{"id":67,"date":"2016-10-03T11:50:10","date_gmt":"2016-10-03T11:50:10","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.neiljameshudson.net\/?page_id=67"},"modified":"2026-06-03T12:12:20","modified_gmt":"2026-06-03T12:12:20","slug":"news","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"http:\/\/www.neiljameshudson.net\/index.php\/news\/","title":{"rendered":"News"},"content":{"rendered":"

“The Helmet Game” has now been published in James Gunn’s Ad Astra<\/a>, and should ring a bell with anyone who took part in daft dare games when they were students.<\/p>\n

If Earth people had to breathe Martian air, I think they\u2019d make more effort to look after their own. For one thing there isn\u2019t much of it. You\u2019d have trouble getting it into your lungs in the first place. And once there, it wouldn\u2019t do any good. There\u2019s plenty of oxygen, but it\u2019s all bound with carbon, which isn\u2019t going to let it go to keep humans alive. You could last a few minutes, and few more if you had time to prepare, but you\u2019ll suffocate soon enough.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cWould you like to see the body, Ms. Connors?\u201d asked Commander Walberg.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cAmanda,\u201d I said. I was one of the few people here without an academic or military title. Only the students matched me in this. I felt as if my name were paraded naked as a mark of shame. \u201cAnd I know what a dead body looks like.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Max Weill suffocated two metres away from his helmet. His gloved hand was outstretched, as if he were trying to pull the ground towards him. He asphyxiated before he froze.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cHis footprints were found between the helmet and his body,\u201d Walberg said. \u201cAs far as we can tell, he took it off himself, then walked away from it.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

And “The New Air” has been published in Penumbric<\/a>:<\/p>\n

\u201cYou were working with Ellia on new air.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cSupposedly.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t believe in the concept?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Gravia put her hand to her helmet. It was the gesture of someone who did not live in a suit full time; she had expected to straighten her hair or scratch an itch, and had not expected to find the face-plate in the way. \u201cAll our research suggests it\u2019s impossible. The respiration systems of Resenbergians and Balarians depend on two different gases. Simply mixing the two together can keep a subject alive for about half an hour, but after that the impurities in the air, necessary for the survival of one race, become a fatal toxin to the other. This was thought of as insurmountable, until Ellia discovered the secondary respiration system.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

And my story “War Food” should soon be appearing in parABnormal<\/a> Magazine.<\/p>\n

Recent publications<\/strong><\/p>\n

“Into the Drear Oblivion” is still available on the Headland<\/a> site:<\/p>\n

I unlocked the door\u2014I didn\u2019t take risks anymore\u2014and checked on Elisabeth. She lay in bed as if she just couldn\u2019t face the weather. She wasn\u2019t breathing but she wasn\u2019t pale enough to be dead. It was her eyes that made her seem so\u2014no matter how long I watched, they were still. There was no rapid movement and therefore, no dreaming. I remembered no dreams from my own hibernation. As far as I could tell she had fallen into oblivion. I wished that I could join her.<\/em><\/p>\n

I went downstairs and put on the battery heater. She would wake up, I told myself. In the spring. She would return. They all would. In the meantime, I could keep busy. I wasn\u2019t completely alone.<\/em><\/p>\n

Randolph had saved my life, as far as I knew. Either that or he\u2019d tried to kill me.<\/em><\/p>\n

“Our Foul Ancestors” can still be read in the Third Flatiron<\/a> “Offshoots” anthology. The story wonders what future Martian colonists will think of the custodians of the wrecked planet they left behind.<\/p>\n

I was fiercely proud that I was no Earthling. It was hard to feel sorry for them, knowing that the death of their world was deliberate; or if not quite deliberate, they had known what they were doing. The world to which my parents had returned was wildly overheating, flooding, choking. New diseases took to the wing, filling the lungs of those who could scarcely breathe anyway. In the meantime war reigned happily, every bomb or missile an act of mercy. The population had halved, dying off at an ever-increasing rate, while politicians continued to insist that the ecosystem would stabilise when there were only seven billion, six billion, five billion. Entire countries had offered their services as cemeteries, the land no longer needed for food.<\/em><\/p>\n

And they had known what they were doing. No, I was not one of them, and they would not get the chance to do the same to Mars.<\/em><\/p>\n

Don’t forget<\/strong><\/p>\n

You can buy my novel On Wings of Pity<\/a> from Amazon<\/a>, and my collection The End of the World: A User\u2019s Guide<\/a> for only \u00a37.99.<\/p>\n

[Last update 3 June 2026]<\/p>\n

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“The Helmet Game” has now been published in James Gunn’s Ad Astra, and should ring a bell with anyone who took part in daft dare…<\/p>\n

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