A Nod to John Wyndham

I read avidly as a child for we had no TV back then, only radio. John Wyndham soon became a favourite and I’ve read all of his work numerous times. These included Day of the Triffids, The Kraken Awakes, The Midwich Cuckoos (on which the films Village of the Damned and Children of the Damned are based), and of course my absolute favourite The Chrysalids.

The latter tells of mankind’s survival after a nuclear war, and how children with special talents have to hide their abilities in a society heavily influenced by a resurgent religion. The latter was a brilliant idea and, in my humble opinion, something that could quite easily happen in such an existence. After all, when threatened many people resort to praying – something they might not have done for years; and as years pass by and mutants start appearing courtesy of the radiation, you can see how the bible and God’s creation of man is used to guide the community.

Animals with deformities are destroyed and likewise all children must adhere to the ‘norm’. This, of course, doesn’t take into account that we as a race are evolving and in such a devastated world you can see how radiation could also affect us.

The punishment for ‘being different’ is being forcibly sterilized, if you’re lucky. How a society that has lost most – if not all – of our technology, does that is enough to make anyone cringe. But what if there was an outpost of humans who held onto their knowledge and have, themselves evolved.

Just how much thought and knowledge Wyndham put into his work is amazing and, indeed, inspiring. Yes, these works have influence me greatly. The ‘what if’ factor bestowed upon me from these books is a great gift. To me it also proves a point, that to be a writer we must read avidly. So, to John Wyndham, thank you.

Forward

A gateway and a changeling on a colony world, prompt a return to Earth to confront the aliens. When children on the

colony of Semillion go missing they return changed, the parents even claim they are not their offspring.

Sherrif Andrews soon finds himself investigating the bizarre situation. What he discovers leads to him being recalled by the military and sent back to Earth, a place now quarantined and where colonial humans are forbidden to venture.

The intention is to recruit ex-commando Seethan Bodell, who’s living with the survivors of The Sundering and the mythological creatures that now inhabit the world. Earth is still ruled with an iron fist by the alien Spooks, but there is something else going on behind the scenes, a new and deadly threat. To succeed, Andrews and Bodell need to call on that grand tapestry of inhabitants: the shapeshifters, elves, the ravening pack of werewolves that Seethan now belongs to, and even the dead; in the hope that it will be enough to prevent an escalating situation that could so easily lead to war.

Excerpt

Realising that his thoughts were wandering Seethan refocused. There was a dry, fetid smell to the room, one that he

recognised. Hairs all over his body rose and a shudder ran through him. He held his breath, listening carefully. Nothing.

Creak.

He quickly reached over to beside his bed, unfastened and then pulled at the string that secured the blinds of the windows. This caused them to raise, revealing glass that displayed the dark surrounding glade and the half-full moon rising over the trees. Moonlight flooded in and illuminated the room, including a shadowy figure in the rocking chair, that

was moving gently back and forth.

Creak.

He jumped, unable to control himself. Breathing out slowly, he said, “Mrs M? Is it really you, or are you one of the Spooks?”

“That’s for you to decide, Seethan,” she rasped in a low dry voice.

She swung her head towards him, those curls of white hair bringing back so many memories. “They are coming, Seethan. They’re coming back, so you’d better prepare.”

“Who’s coming back? What do you mean?”

“The colonials.” The words were spoken like a hiss. “Where’s that silver freak of yours? Left you, has she?”

“She’s dead,” Seethan said coldly, knowing that she meant Rose - his android lover. “Like you are, or should be.”

“I only came here to warn you.”

“And to have another dig about Rose, you never liked her. Your message has been received, thanks. You can go now.”

Seethan awoke with a start, his heart hammering. Had he been dreaming? Or could it be that Mrs M, the woman who’d brought him up, had actually been here. No, it couldn’t be. The dead were a fickle lot, and they only returned when the need was dire, although they spoke to him when they did.

Creak.

Seethan jumped. The blinds were still up. Moonlight shone like a beam of light illuminating a theatre, as they revealed one of the stars of their show. Only this time it illuminated the chair, still gently rocking back and forth.

Creak.

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