Excerpts From Nonexistent Books

The SI unit of spice exposure is the bucholz (bU), which measures the amount of capsaicinoids per unit of body mass, typically expressed as milligrams per kilogram (mg/kg). It is named after Christian Friedrich Bucholz, the German chemist who discovered capsaicin. While extremely precise, measuring bucholz requires an exact mass of the subject at the time of exposure as well as access to high-performance liquid chromatography equipment. As such, it tends to be used mainly for reference purposes for known substances–for instance, in determining the safe exposure level for working with Carolina Reapers in a laboratory context.

In contrast, a deprecated unit called the scoville (Sc) is often used informally or alongside the bucholz. SI deprecated the unit due to its margin for error and partial basis in subjectivity, but it remains in common parlance as a measure for spice exposure. For example, the meltdown at the Three Rivers Taco Shack–the largest spice release in US history–was responsible for about 1.4 mSc (milliscovilles) of exposure for the nearby populace over the two-week course of the incident.

By contrast, the accident at the V.I. Lenin Spice Laboratory in the former Soviet Union released approximately 300,000 Sc per hour, and resulted in the contamination of a large area in extremely pungent spices. Cleanup continues to this day, greatly hindered by the lack of a Latin American or South Asian food industry.

In both cases, it is important to note that spice exposure is cumulative over time, with continuous exposure leading to increased symptoms.

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Profile: Duvvu Neffe

Obet tend to be negatively stereotyped as criminals and deviants, thanks largely to high-profile figures like Don Xoppo and persistent rumors that their lack of distinct genders means that Obet are hyper-sexualized perverts. Neither could be further from the truth, of course, and Duvvu Neffe is on the leading edge of changing such perceptions about their species.

Born to a member of the Neffe clan as well as the M’Deed clan, Duvvu is already regarded as something of an oddity among their own people, as the Neffe and M’Deed are traditional clan enemies. But beyond that, Duvet’s major claim to fame is reaction videos to a variety of Obet and non-Obet media. Their horrified reaction to a human frog leg eating contest, as well as their hysterical laughter at a nominally serious Vatna blood opera daytime program, have made Duvvu a pillar of reaction comedy.

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Starting in 1980, Melville Strait was the site of an unexplained phenomenon called “the Hum,” alternatively described as a “ping” or a “beep,” which was heard throughout summer 1980 and into the early fall. It was heard by various Inuit villagers and hunters, as well as personnel at the joint Canadian/American airbase on nearby York Island.

Hunters blamed “the Hum” for a comparative scarcity of game animals that year, both marine and on land. Villagers in particular blamed it on the military base, which had already been involved in controversy through its use of a nuclear reactor power source and large-scale dumping of garbage. In response, Canadian and American military authorities performed an airborne survey of the area and deployed a signals intelligence unit to gather data.

Officially, the investigation team was a civilian contractor specializing in audiology and physiology. Reportedly, however, it was actually a joint NSA/CSE codebreaking and information warfare unit. In either case, the investigators detected a frequency between 32 Hz and 80 Hz, modulated from 0.5 to 2 Hz, but were unable to discern a point of origin from any natural or manmade source.

Ultimately, the investigation found that the sound was most likely the product of Soviet Grom radio direction finder tests from submarines, a part of the Molniya system intended to serve as the basis for short-range guided missile strikes. When access to Soviet archives was briefly available in the 1990s, though, it was revealed that not only had the Grom been abandoned in 1978, but that it and the Molniya system had been far too large to fit on any submarines available in 1980.

Furthermore, there were no Soviet records of submarines in the area at the time, with an incursion in January 1978 and another in July 1981 being the closest. When pressed on the issue, retired admiral Mikhail Lebedev called the claim “nonsense,” saying that even if the system had been available for use, it would never have been tested in the area of an active airbase. “The would be a very high risk of war for very little gain,” he claimed.

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In ages past, the great and all-encompassing Sky sent Its children down to the ground in the form of pigeons and doves. Numberless, they filled the world with their great flocks and huge numbers. The Sky told them that they were to be stewards of this world and guardians of its wisdom. In return, it asked only that they practice good stewardship and not forget their duties to lesser birds and lesser beings.

But in time, the doves forgot their promise and their place. Their numbers blotted out the sun, and some even grew so large as to tower over the other life that they were supposed to protect and nourish. They consumed all the available food, leaving none for any others. The Sky called the pigeons and doves to account for themselves, but they made a poor showing, impressing upon the great and all-encompassing that they did not realize the depths of their folly.

The Sky then gravely informed the pigeons and doves that, since they had pledged to nourish the other animals, they would honor the bargain one way or another. It then gave to the animals that were hungriest the ability to hunt and eat pigeons and doves. They gladly did so, and soon the pigeons and dives found their numbers much diminished and under threat. They pleaded with the Sky to reverse its decision, but it fell silent.

That is why, to this day, pigeons and doves are hunted and eaten. That is why so many have vanished from the earth. Only when their forgotten pledge is remembered, and all the hungry are fed, will the all-encompassing Sky see fit to restore them.

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Humans
Love Day, also known as St. Valentine’s Day, the Day of the 2/14 Incident, and The Lovening, is a day dedicated to romantic love on many human worlds. While it originates in several different belief systems, the embrace of the day by large corporations has led to its secularization. Attempts to encourage other Star Confederation cultures to participate have generally been catastrophic, with the sole exception of the Vatna, who have wholeheartedly embraced it.

Vatna
In addition to Love Day, where Vatna warriors are expected to present a battle-token to a loved one, the Vatna Hegemony also celebrates Vengeance Day or Revenge Day. This day, April 15, is dedicated to the settling of scores both large and small. In many cases, it can be as simple as setting a ceremonial booby trap or engaging in brief fisticuffs over a perceived slight, and many Vatna corporations sell traps and dueling gloves for this purpose. Vengeance Day can also be in deadly earnest, of course, and it is the most popular day on the Vatna calendar to declare BloodWar.

Fulvan Hive
Traditional Fulvans celebrate Conformity Day over four days, July 1-4, and treat it as a celebration of sameness, integration, and uniformity. Beige cakes are often consumed, and each Hive will agree in advance on a present for all Hive members to give to all other Hive members. Reform Fulvans, either on their own or as part of a Reformed Hive, generally use the same span to celebrate Freedom Day, a celebration of individuality and excess that is (in)famous for its drinking, dancing, and debauchery.

Zypger
The Zypger Union’s official state emotion is cool detachment, yet there is no official holiday celebrating such (though many informally observe it on November 1 as Statistics Day). Instead, official celebrations are held on a moveable day in the spring, the first full day after all three moons of Zypger IV have appeared in the same night sky. It is celebrated as Joy Day, with the strong implication that the Zypger people are joyous at their government. For its part, the Union does typically provide food and small gifts for the populace.

Ebzhyna
Anger Day does not seem in keeping with the generally laid-back vibes of the Ebzhyna, and that is exactly the point. Without an outlet for the boiling rage many of them are forced to hide behind a mask of cheerful indifference, mental illness and outbreaks of violence can happen. Uif Evef, the great leader that set the Ebzhyna on their philosophy of going with the flow, therefore built Anger Day into the new calendar. It is a display of pure unbridled rage, directed against inanimate objects, in most places; the ritual of the Purgative, where all laws and customs are suspended for one day, has proven difficult to reconcile with Star Confederation law.

Obet
Obets celebrate Comfort Day, with the date being mandated as a day off for all levels of society and a strict prohibition on anything other than comfort for the duration. Sales of couches tend to skyrocket around Comfort Day, and it is also the preferred euthanasia day for many of the critically ill. Due to the complete shutdown of all government services for the day, it is also sees an uptick in preventable deaths and auto-cannibalism as well.

11001001
As a networked and cybernetic culture, the 11001001 would seem to be a candidate to celebrate Conformity Day along with the traditionalist Fulvan Hive. Instead, the 11001001 observe Loneliness Day, day in which their network is temporarily disabled to emphasize how devastatingly lonely life is without it. Reportedly, this is the day when the largest number of 11001001 go rogue, as well.

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“I understand your concerns,” Lee said his hands folded in front of him. “That’s why I’m here.”

“That’s funny,” Mr. Charles DeWitt, Senior. said. “It seems to me like you’re there to do nothing while our boy is missing.” He rapidly and nervously tapped one leg on the stained hardwood floor, producing a rhythmic series of sharp clacks with the heel of his cowboy boot. Vice-Chancellor Lee was clearly bugged by this, sneaking a wide-eyed glance at the offending noise every few seconds.

“What Chuck means is, we’re very worried about our son, and we feel like every minute we’re here in your office is a minute we could be spending looking for him.” Charlene De Witt said. Like her husband, she was making a nervous sound–legs crossed, she was popping one stiletto on and off her left heel. Lee observed with pursed lips that, as far as nervous tics went, the DeWitts were made for each other.

“I understand and agree, Mrs. DeWitt,” said Lee in his most conciliatory tone. “But what you have to understand is that Charles Jr.-”

“Hunter,” Mr DeWitt snapped. “We call him Hunter.”

“Oh. He goes by his middle name?”

“He does not go by Llewellyn, no. It’s a nickname he got after he took down his first buck. Now, what are you doing about his disappearance?”

“As the Vice-Chancellor of Occult Affairs, I can assure you that…Hunter…is in no danger,” Lee said. “As I pointed out in my email, he’s merely been confined to the Mirror Realm. We can see him just fine, most often in the 18th-century mirror in the University Museum. It’s getting him to cross back over that’s been a bit more difficult.”

“I don’t see why not,” Mrs. DeWitt said. “Break the mirror. Hunter’s good at that. Took out a Tiffany when he was twelve.”

Mr. DeWitt sighed. “You never would let that do. Your daughter wrecked the car, but no, it’s always about Hunter and that Tiffany mirror. He didn’t know it was loaded, it was an honest mistake!”

“Please, please,” Lee said, hands now outstretched. If he was going to be a marriage counselor, the university really needed to let him charge by the hour. “If we shatter the mirror, that may eject your son into the Shadow Realm, which is even more difficult. We’re also not sure if the mirror is a necessary material component of the spell to return him.”

“So I’ll ask again: what are you doing, other than stalling?” Mr. DeWitt said. The tapping of his boot had increased in both frequency and pitch, and Lee was seriously tempted to unmount the golf club on the wall behind him and Tonya Harding the problem.

“We are waiting for a specialist,” Lee said. “Mr. Darkhollow is the university’s preferred contractor for issues like this. He freed that girl from Stella Delacroix’s amulet last year. And of course the exorcism of the plague demon from the Hatchley Residential Complex stands on its own.”

“What if we, ah…” Mrs. DeWitt began.

“We hired our own paranormal investigator,” her husband said. The tapping of his cowboy boot reached a fever pitch. “They can assist your Mr. Darkhollow when and if he arrives.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. DeWitt, but that’s simply not-”

“We hired our own lawyer, too,” Mr. DeWitt added. “He’s told us just how much the university will owe us if we decide to take my grandfather’s name off of DeWitt Hall.”

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CARL: This is Carl Drake, play-by-play commentator for NBS Broadcasting, coming at you live from the 2023 Fantasy Sports Superbowl.

TOM: That’s right, Carl. This is Tom Hicks, color commentator for NBS Broadcasting, and it’s been quite a day for fantasy football fans. Carl, you want to do a quick recap for our viewers still dazzled by an onslaught of commercials that cost more than most feature films?

CARL: The score stands tied at 7-7 at the beginning of the second quarter, with overwhelming favorites the Seattle Sorcerers underperforming in the face of a surprisingly determined defense from the Baltimore Bards.

TOM: That’s right, Carl. The Bards stopped the last Sorcerers scoring drive dead in its tracks just before the whistle. And I do mean dead, we have confirmation from the field that no. 77 Axemund Bileborn, who was sacked by no. 66 Grimhorn Shattershield, did not survive.

CARL: Bileborn had just caught the snap from no. 13, Whisper Sunderbough, whose pass had sailed through the air like a clear note from a silver trumpet. That leaves the Sorcerers’ sole touchdown as the 33-yard teleportation by Fizzle McPotion, which was answered shortly thereafter by a runaway goal by Shattershield for Baltimore.

TOM: That’s right, Carl. Fantasy football being what it is, I understand that three of the Baltimore players leveled up during the break, though what if any new skills and feats they have acquired remain unclear.

CARL: If I were Shattershield I’d definitely take the Throw Anything feat. You’ll recall in 2018 that Block Granite was able to throw both the ball and Fungo Scoggins at the same time, leading to a rare double touchdown.

TOM: That’s right, Carl, and if the wizard quarterback is able to take Block Teleport as a cantrip, they can keep McPotion from sneaking in another tele-goal for Seattle. Then again, if they level up their rogue, how much damage will he do with a concealed tackle?

CARL: 4d6+4, assuming we’re talking about no. 21 Slitpipes McGee and not no. 48 Burgle Wheezegasp.

TOM: That’s right, Carl, McGee is the rogue I’d have on my line. Wheezegasp has promise–he showed that as an assassin in the NFCAA–but he’s about two levels from being ready for this sort of melee. Unless McGee is slain or incapacitated, I’d expect Baltimore to stick with him.

CARL: At this point, I’m thinking that Seattle is in a real pickle. Is it time to let no. 99, Plagueis Deathnote, out of the bullpen?

TOM: That’s right, Carl, a little necromancy is just what Seattle needs to get some more men on the field and make up for the levels they haven’t been gaining. The only question is, has enough blood been spilt on this spot, enough bodies buried warm after cold-blooded murder, to rise in appreciable numbers to make a difference?

CARL: It was built by the mob, so I’m guessing yes.

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Smith produced a deck and shuffled it like a Mississippi riverboat gambler.

“I thought tarot cards were supposed to be bigger,” Briley said. “Those are, like, playing card size.”

Madison elbowed her from behind. while ‘Madame Smith’ ignored the remark. She pulled a card from the top of the deck and laid it down.

“Malach of the Dawn, inverted,” Smith said. “An angelic creature, its inversion means evil, and peril.”

“The sun rises, but the world still feels dark,” Briley read from the card. “Pray for the arrival of the malachim—they’ll bring Dawn to the world and to our hearts.” She wasn’t familiar with tarot, but from what she’d seen in movies, she didn’t think the cards were supposed to have flavor text.

Smith laid down the next card. “Lightning Hounds. The danger will be relentless, but with quick reflexes you may avoid it.”

“What does the 3/2 at the bottom of the card mean?” Briley said, reaching out to tap it.

Madison bent over and swatted her hand away. “Reading in progress!” she snapped. “Let her finish.”

Smith flipped a run of several cards onto the table next.

“Whirlwind Denial…Mossfire Egg…Emergent Growth,” Smith read. “You try to deny the problems that beset you, but like a birth, the process must be traumatic. You will emerge in a space ready for growth.”

“Target creature gets +5/+5 until end of turn and must be blocked this turn if able,” Briley read from the last card. “By accepting my smallness I am vast.”

“Very profound,” Madison said.

Briley picked one of the cards up and flipped it over. “These are just Magic: the Gathering cards!” she cried. “What are you trying to pull here, Kayla?”

“Madame Smith if you please!” came the curt reply. “The form of the cards does not matter, but rather the spirits that guide them. Maybe I can’t find an affordable tarot deck. Maybe my parents freak out about occult stuff and borrowing the roomie’s Magic deck is the best I can do. But your reading is still very important, very psychic, information.”

“Come on, Maddie,” Briley said, standing up so violently that she upset the folding chair. “Let’s go.”

Frantically, Smith continued turning over cards and reading their pronouncements as Briley left and dragged Madison along with her.

“Angler Turtle! Beware of something that seems helpful but is a trap!” she cried. “Draconic Disciple! Your enemy has an assistant to help with its bidding! Illumination! You will be blinded, and then illuminated, by your discovery!”

Briley slammed the door behind her. “Well, that was a waste of time,” she groused.

“Don’t be so hard on her,” Madison said. “The other tarot readers wanted money, and I think she’s rebelling against like fundamentalist parents or something.”

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Madison knocked on the door.

“Maddie, this is literally a dorm room,” said Briley.

She looked sideways at the very ornate Cajun-flavored door decorations. Dark doilies, red lace, and a name plate that read “Madame Smith.” The built-in dorm name tag, for one Kayla Smith, had been crossed out with a dry-erase marker.

“You said you wanted a Tarot reading, so I got you a Tarot reading,” Madison said. “It’e even free.”

“Enter!” a voice said from within. Ignoring Briley’s trepidation, Madison opened the door and led them inside.

The interior of the room was decorated in a very New Orleans French Quarter style, with dark lights, knickknacks, and drapes. The furniture that came with a Schneider Hall dorm room was all pushed aside or repurposed, from the bed that was lofted and hung with Spanish moss to the armchair that had been covered with damask cloth.

“I am Madame Smith, and you have come to see what the cards have to say.”

Briley squinted. ‘Madame Smith’ was a girl her own age, a sophomore at the most, wearing a fortune teller costume that was somewhere between Halloween and Comic-Con. She was blue-eyed, with wisps of blond hair peeking out from beneath a shawl, and the teeth she bared were InvisAlign™ perfect.

“Uh, yeah,” Briley said, stepping in. “I have a problem and I need a tarot reading to tell me what to do.”

“Sit,” Smith ordered, gesturing to a folding chair that was draped in black.

Madison nudged Briley violently; the latter reluctantly sat, forcing the dark fabric on it to bunch up and partially slide off.

“Now then,” Smith said, laying both hands on an overturned trash can in front of her, covered with that looked like a repurposed bedsheet. “Let us see what the cards have to say about your fate.”

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In international media news today, author Winnifred Xavier (W.X.) Paddleford lashed out at critics who had called for her to retract her controversial remarks on social media, instead doubling down on her tirade through an additional series of posts.

Though her publisher, Giraudoux & Strauss of New York, Paddleford repeated her views that a secret cabal of Hebrew industrialists is plotting world domination, that LGBTQ+ people “did not exist” until they were created by the Chinese Communist Party using biological weapons in the 1980s, and that vaccines cause autism because “Big Pharma wants to sell you a cure.” Though the Giraudoux & Strauss representative was sure to label Ms. Paddleford’s remarks as “a matter of personal opinion,” he nevertheless dismissed reports that the publisher was planning to drop the author as a client.

“We remain excited to work with Ms. Paddleford’s expanded universe of novels, stage plays, Hollywood films, video games, and NFTs,” the spokesman, Hal Fischer, said. “I understand that many may personally disagree with Ms. Paddleford’s strongly held personal and religious beliefs, but we ask that they simply separate the author from the work.”

Paddleford, whose works include the Sorcerer’s School, Techno Training, and Post-Apoc Academy series, is in the middle of a media tour promoting the new Sorcerer’s School: Multiverse MMORPG. Preorders of the game have already lead Giraudoux & Strauss Interactive to record Q4 profits last year, and response to the closed beta has been very positive. G&S Interactive declines to comment for this story other than to stress that potential game buyers should “separate the author from the work.”

UPDATE:
As a “No to Sorcerer’s School: Multiverse boycott petition on social media grew to over one million signatures, W.X. Paddleford responded by promising to donate $10 of her royalties to the Bible Sexuality Institute for every signatory at the time of the game’s release.

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