Vacant Vagrant The Things They Abandoned Short Story
Hi everyone. Don’t be surprised if I rank your story / chapter a 3.0 or a 3.5. It just means that it’s a good draft, but with a little work, it could be excellent. I don't give very many 4.5s or 5.0 unless I think the work is almost perfect. Any of my comments or suggestions are just that: comments or suggestions. They are always given with respect and the hopes that they will be helpful. If you don’t agree with them, just ignore them; after all, you know what is best for your story. Keep Writing! 
Title: The Things They Abandoned
Type: Short Story
Author: Vacant Vagrant
Plot: Orlov and his crew are exploring an alien planet. Orlov falls down into a chamber and is separated from his team. He encounters an organism, which after chatting for a while, kills him. His crew has been killed as well. The organism and his peers are now freed from their prison to do mischief.
Style & Voice:
Voice: Part I of the story is in Orlov's pov. The second half slips into Prospero's pov. The slip was natural. Well done.
Style: Take this with a grain of salt, but I have read to be consistent in the dialogue tags with a preference for putting them after. What I mean is:
"John said" and "John asked"
instead of
"said John" and "asked John."
Both forms were used in this story. Whether before or after, be consistent.
Referencing: They are on an alien planet.
Scene/Setting: At one moment, I was confused as to whether the teammates had followed Orlov down or not.
Characters: Well done. I particularly liked Prospero.
Grammar: Please see line by line review.
http://owl.english.purdue.edu/owl/resource/607/02/...
http://www.englishgrammarsecrets.com/questionstags...
http://www.grammar-monster.com/lessons/which_that_...
http://wps.ablongman.com/long_faigley_penguinhb_1/...
What I liked best: The suspense. I didn't know what was coming next.
Just My Personal Opinion: tell them what you liked/didn't like. How did it make you feel and all other misc.!
Hi
This was a most enjoyable short story with unexpected twists. I smiled a few times as I read. Well done!
Thank you for sharing,
Tadpole1
Tadpole1 
Orlov stood up, grimacing at the fresh pain from his ankle. He wiped the dust and grime from his faceshield, leaving streaks of filth. His platoon mates were above, laughing down at his misfortune. This scavenger work was hardly what he had expected.
Good intro. We know the name of the pov character, that the story is sci-fi, and we have a little setting.
“Need a torch down that way, Grace?” Lawton hooted. He was perhaps twenty feet above him. Five of them encircled the gaping maw above, peering down through their opaque helmets. The laughter chugged through the commlinks and Orlov frowned bitterly.
“I’m okay, everyone, thanks,” he replied bitterly. He took a few hesitant steps, feeling only mild discomfort. “Probably not even sprained,” he muttered to himself.
“Jeez Crimony,” said Kwitowski in hushed tones. “What in God’s name is that pit for?”
“For catching food. It’s a glowhead version of a bear
trip.” ?? trap ??
Lawton guffawed. Some of the others joined in the laughter.
“Yuk it up, get it on out of your system,” Orlov retorted. The dense light from the hole he’d inadvertently created offered some illumination, but hardly enough. He touched a few buttons along his left wristplate, and a pair of bright lights burst forth from each side of his helmet.
"dense light" gave me pause.
The room he’d found was spacious, with a number of overturned metal boxes that looked like what might be storage crates. There were glyphs on the walls, and Orlov thought they might be instructional. He couldn’t read them, and Desmond, their linguist, wasn’t anywhere close. There were no means for him to get back with his platoon quickly. Along the far wall was a solitary door, open and inviting.
“Looks like I fell into some kind of storage chamber,” Orlov said. “There’s nothing to help me get out of here. I’m going to the next room.”
“Splitting up isn’t a good idea,” Kwitowski said, voice thick with anxiety. “We’re on an alien planet, for God’s sake.”
I had the feeling that Orlov was down in the hole/chamber by himself, so wouldn't you say that he is already split from the group? Maybe it's fine.
“No life forms are coming up on scanners. I’ll be fine.”
“Try not to make any more of your own doors,” Lawton added, but there was a tone of seriousness in his voice.
“Yes, mother.”
He walked to the door, raising his carbine. He did it from experience, and although his scanners weren’t projecting anything alive within range, there was always something a little spooky about looking around dark rooms with just a flashlight.
He found himself standing before a vast corridor. The walls had a peculiar caterpillar tread running in strips along the side. Even through the faceshield, Orlov could notice that the air held a sour tang, and it stank faintly of diesel and bleach. Interesting.
Fifty yards away from him stood what looked like a ruined suit of battle armor. “I didn’t know the glowheads even knew how to fight,” he said to himself, and he paced forward, trying to find a way back to his platoon.
This is fine, but I would have imagined them dropping a cord down to him.
“I’m having
a balls There's no problem, but I'm unfamiliar with this phrasing. Perhaps, it is original? Or a cool, new phrase?
of a time getting the comp to give me a layout of this place,” ejaculated Kwitowski, followed by an unsettling static burst.
“If our comps can even make a readout of this sort of architecture,” responded Lawton, and his voice was muffled beneath static as well.
I'm a bit confused. Did they all come down?
“Fellas, I’m getting some interference down here,” Orlov said shakily. A seed of fear had already been planted in this dark place, and
totally communication total communication
loss from his comrades was the last thing Orlov wanted.
“Roger, Orlov,” replied Kwitowski, his words garbled.
“Fantastic,” breathed Orlov, stalking forward. His footfalls brought forth desolate echoes in yawning darkness. Nice imagery.
He saw no doors, only the strange tread and the battle armor. As he neared it, he found himself perplexed. The former residents of this planet were tall, thin beings, ranging up to nine feet in height. This armor looked better suited for a person of the average human height, though the helmet was far too narrow for any head he could imagine.
He tapped the helmet with the nose of the carbine. “What sort of person would wear you?” Orlov wondered aloud.
From within the suit came a ratcheting set of clicks, followed by a mechanical klaxon that nearly took Orlov
of of off of
his feet. His commlink burst with staticky life; the others had no doubt heard the alarm and were scrambling to
find Is "find" really the word you want?
him. It took him a moment to realize he’d been screaming with terror.
A low, red glow began pulsing from the middle of the helmet, starting slow but increasing its flashes rapidly. The suit whirred, and the legs pistoned away from the wall. The arms pinwheeled forward, and the metallic hands flexed and relaxed. The helmet pivoted and the pulsing light flashed, from blood red to a faint lavender.
Cool.
I like the imagery. I believe you turned the word "piston" into a verb. Great idea. I don't know which would be correct, but I would be inclined to put two ns "pistonned."
Whenever possible, I try to avoid the words "began" and "starting."
Suggestion: A low, red glow began pulsing from the middle of the helmet, flashing faster and faster. Does this seem stronger?
Computerized language like gibberish echoed from within the machine, before slowing and evening out, and in no time Orlov realized its language was changing rapidly. “…system Prospero uploaded. Greetings uncategorized organism. Identify please.”
Orlov swallowed. The lavender flash
turned into Maybe something more original? …flash slid into a faint… ??
a faint golden coloring. He wanted nothing more than to be away from whatever this thing was.
“Heightened levels of anxiety detected. Countermeasures are being applied.”
The voice still bore a distinctly tinny and technological echo, but it had also taken on what sounded like a British accent. The thin helmet hissed, and a track of nodules rose forth from what was the faceplate, in an oval pattern. The nodules popped with an electrical flash, and then a glow spread within the nodules, and the faceplate became a face.
Super cool.
Repetition: nodules x 3
Thanks for the new vocab word: tinny.
It was a human face, though its features were exaggerated. Large eyes blinked owlishly above a sharp nose. The mouth had full lips that spread a bit too wide into a grin. “Countermeasures achieved. Greetings uncategorized organism. I am Prospero.”
Orlov opened his mouth hesitantly. “Um, hello. I am Darren Orlov.” He coughed nervously.
“Darren Orlov,” Prospero repeated, mimicking his voice expertly,
excepting I don't like this word here, and I am not sure that the form is correct. How about: except for?
the computerized echo. “You are an uncategorized organism. Please advise your species and place of origin.”
It’s a stinking robot, Orlov thought, embarrassed and amused. “Human. From Earth.”
The digitized face brightened with joy. “A human!” It cried, with emotion that defied machinery. “How wonderful! I have longed to meet you. The denizens of this planet have spoken very highly of humankind. They shared much of your societies and history, before placing us in the lower wings.” Cool.
How ironic that the glowheads loved us before we tore their planet to shreds. “Us? Are there others like you, Prospero?”
“I am the only Prospero.” It replied mystically, and fell silent.
Just a note here: Although I think a few are fine, you'll hear that a lot of people frown on the "ly" adverbs, suggesting that using them is an easy way out instead of hunting for a more precise phrase or vocabulary word.
Orlov touched his commlink. “Kwitowski? Lawton? I’ve found something. Over?” But all that he heard was droning static. He glanced at Prospero. “Any reason our coms wouldn’t work down here?”
“The terminology ‘coms’ does not register. Based upon inference in your actions, I deduce you are inquiring as to why your communication device is not functioning properly. It is probable that technological devices embedded in the lower wings are radiating varying signals that are disturbing the links between your communication devices.” The face smiled placidly. “Would you like me to store the term ‘coms’ into my database for future references?”
Orlov laughed. “Sure. Knock yourself out.”
The face flickered briefly, and there was a soft, whirring noise from within. Then the face blipped clearly. “Greetings, Darren Orlov, human from Earth. I am Prospero. May I assist you?”
“You can. I need to find my platoon. How do I get to the upper levels?”
“The upper levels are restricted to me.” Prospero’s face smiled but his voice didn’t sound pleased. In fact, there was even a hint of frustration in its words. “There were elevators along
the western wall. A current diagnostic suggests those have been incapacitated due to structural damage and power loss. There is also a stairwell, though it is unlikely that it is structurally sound due to aforementioned damage.”
“Take me, Prospero,” Orlov said.
“I can take you to the door, but we are forbidden to leave the lower wing,” Prospero said, and his smiling face defied his exasperated voice. “I must repeat the warning of structural instability. I do not wish to send Darren Orlov to his death.”
“You said ‘we’ again,” Orlov noted. “Are there others like you?”
“There is only one Prospero.”
“Other machines, I mean. Robots. Androids.”
Prospero’s face twisted bitterly. “I am not a machine, robot, or android. I am an organism. I am of the Omni, a powerful race.” The voice crackled with real anger, and Orlov took a step back. He held a hand up, placating. Tension is building.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I didn’t know.”
“Speech pattern dictates honesty regarding your ignorance, Darren Orlov.” The face returned to a smile, but now Orlov sensed something calculating in Prospero’s digitized features.
He rephrased his question. “Are there other Omni here?”
“Yes. I came to this planet accompanied by my brethren. The indigenous race here, known as Celestials before they abandoned, gave us names, borrowed from a beloved human known as Shake Spear. I am Prospero. My brethren are Othello, Iago, and Caliban. They are confined to the lower wing also.”
“Confined?” Orlov asked. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stir. “You mean imprisoned?”
“Yes.” Prospero said, playful smile widening. Tension building.
The commlink burst to life, and amidst the roar of static was a shout of dismay, and in the distance, there was a
staccato cough Nice.
of gunfire.
“Readings indicate more humans have reached the lower wing. They also indicate that they have encountered my compatriot Caliban.” Prospero clicked, a remarkably human sound of recognizing unfortunate luck. “Pity. Iago and Othello might have dispatched of them more peacefully. Caliban rather delights in dismembering those that find him.” Ouch!
Orlov staggered back, face white. His heart was hammering in his chest. The commlink
belched static Another cool phrase.
again, and mingled within were shrieks. Whether it was Kwitowski or Lawton he didn’t know.
“I offer gratitude to you, Darren Orlov,” Prospero remarked. “By destroying this planet and scattering our captors, you have nullified previous restrictions upon us. Our freedom is assured.”
“No!” Orlov spat, and he raised his carbine and fired.
The roar of gunfire was harsh and deafening in the tight space. The flash from the muzzle was blinding in the darkness.
Telling. This is very good, but is there a way to rewrite these two sentences without the words "was"?
Prospero’s digitized face blinked out, and it spoke a garbled computerized word,
and a sphere of paleness surrounded it. I would make this a sentence on its own.
A sphere of paleness surrounded it. Or maybe:
Prospero's digitized face blinked out, and as soon as it spoke a garbled computerized word, a sphere of paleness surrounded its head.
The bullets whined, caroming off of the sphere and into the walls.
Were there sparks when the bullets bounced off?
“Threat detected. Countermeasures
applied.” boomed Prospero, Comma. …applied," boomed
and from its hands
came forth Perhaps: sprung a blinding
blinding energy. It shattered Orlov’s faceshield. He briefly felt the sting of the shards of reinforced plastic gouging his cheeks, and smelled the bitter tang in the air before the energy coursed into him, numbing his senses and obliterating his insides.
Suggestion: Shards of reinforced plastic gouged his cheeks. He gasped the air with its bitter tang. The energy impulse blasted into him, numbing his senses and obliterating his insides.
Does this feel more active? I deleted the "ly" word. Also, I took out "He felt" because it is from his point of view already. As well, I made the sentences shorter, which increases tension.
Prospero ceased his countermeasures, and the rigid corpse of Orlov went suddenly limp, no comma and collapsed to the floor in a tangled heap.
We have just changed pov character from Orlov to Propero.
His digitized voice garbled. “Brothers Omni. To Prospero.”
In time, Too vague.
two figures stalked from the corridor,
one only slightly shorter than the others. This part of the sentence implies more than two figures.
They were followed by a huge, hulking shape that padded forward on all fours. Blood
dropped dripped?
from its massive, metallic fists.
“The humans from Earth have freed us. Let us go forth, no comma and show them our thanks.”
There was another klaxon sound, and the others – Iago, Othello, and monstrous Caliban – mimicked the sound repetitively.
It sounded like laughter.
Thank you for giving me the opportunity to read your work. Please take any suggestions you like and disregard the rest because only you know what is right for your writing.
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http://owl.english.purdue.edu/owl/resource/607/02/...
http://www.englishgrammarsecrets.com/questionstags...
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