Tomorrow is the official release of my science fiction novel We Are Death, Come For You. My fifteenth novel on Amazon, initially priced at $3.99, Friday and Saturday (4/19-4/20) the ebook will be offered for $0.99, On Sunday it will return to the regular price. We Are Death, Come For You, is a stand alone novel, no sequels planned here. I happen to think it is a very good story. That’s my opinion as the writer, now I just need to get some readers’ opinions up on Amazon.
We Are Death is an alien invasion story with many of the tropes of such stories removed from the plot. Unlike most such stories they are not here for our resources, our land, or even our organs. No, they are simply here to end all life in our solar system, and in every solar system we occupy, in their campaign to rid the Universe of Life. I was always impressed by the book Footfall, by Larry Niven and Jerry Pournell. In that novel the aliens are more advanced than us, but not to the point where we can’t resist. In fact, in my novel, the human race has been battling in space for centuries, as the governments of Earth, The Belt, and The Moons (of Jupiter) play the age old game of resource and territory acquisition. Until something new enters the mix, an alien species who worships death and sees life as an abomination. Their mission is to rid the Universe of life, including their own when the job is done. Cruising the Galaxy in their massive (16,000 cubic kilometer) sublight mother ships, we are the next civilization they have come upon. We know they are coming, there is no sneaking up on anyone from space. The might of the Solar System is mobilized, but will it be enough?
We Are Death, Come For You is a story of greed and sacrifice, of cowardice turned heroism, of self centeredness turned self sacrifice. A technologically superior foe takes on the supreme warrior race, us, in a battle to the end, with no quarter asked or given.
Be sure to pick up your $.99 copy on Friday or Saturday.
Aliens
All posts tagged Aliens
If you have seen as many movies and TV series as I have you may have asked the question. Why are so many aliens humanoid? Is it because of a lack of imagination on the part of movie and TV producers? Budgetary constraints? Other? I know in the original Star Trek they had constraints of budget, and developed a mythology to explain the preponderance of humanoid species in the Galaxy other than “the studio was too cheap to let us come up with cool nonhumans.” They developed a race of ancients who seeded the Galaxy with humanoids (not sure why), which explained why Vulcans could mate with Humans and produce Spock (thought they used blood with different carrier molecules for Oxygen, so no sure how that worked). Otherwise, no matter the compatibility of sexual equipment, you would have more luck reproducing with a tree slug than an alien, even if they did use DNA (which is also not a given). Now Cheesy old movies used humanoids even if they had scaly skins or claws, because the humanoid actors had to fit into those monster suits. Or if the aliens were very nonhuman they didn’t move much, because that was beyond the effects wizardry of the time. I think one of the hookiest aliens was G-Man from Robot Monster, which was a guy in a Gorilla suit with a single eye stalk coming out of his shoulder area. Of course it wasn’t bad enough to not be retread for Lost in Space later on. Or maybe it was bad enough, which is why it was used. In later series the humanoid form was again used often. The Newcomers from Alien Nation, the invaders from V, even though makeup can be hard, its not as difficult as making a mechanical construct to play a truly alien creature.
Now this isn’t saying that the humanoid form is not a good one, and that convergent evolution won’t happen. I don’t buy the theory that in a million planets developing life every single phylum, class and order will be completely different than anything we have on Earth. I expect to see Reptilians, though with more limbs in some cases. And the humanoid form is a robust form. If I had to go to war I would love for it to be against Posleen like in John Ringo’s novels. They could run, but they couldn’t climb, duck or hide in holes or trenches, all useful tasks in a shooting war. And there were a lot of aliens from Star Wars that looked weird and unusual, but didn’t look like a good choice for a Galaxy winner, which is probably why the Galaxy was dominated by, you guessed it, Humanoids. I don’t expect humanoids to look exactly like us, though that could possibly happen. I really don’t expect for them to have the same genetic structures, internal organs or even number of fingers and toes. Our internal organs and their arrangement are a genetic accident. For example, look at the arrangement of our air pipes and food pipes, which cause so many problems. There was a fish with an opposite arrangement that would have been so much better, but it didn’t win the lottery to become land vertebrates. So we have a bad arrangement of pipes that cause problems.
Books have always had better aliens than movies until recently. A writer could create the truly alien with the stroke of a few keys. They didn’t have to worry about how it would look or move, or how much it would cost to make it do so. Dracocentaurs and other aliens from Poul Anderson, all the forms from Alan Dean Foster, the list is endless. Now, with the improvement in CGI technology the movies can bring forms like these to life on the silver screen, and we are no longer stuck with merely redressed faces on obvious humans. Look at the Tharks in John Carter, or the natives in Avatar. Sure, both were more or less humanoid, but with some big differences that brought them to life. Or the alien in Super Eight, which was powerful, fast, and definitely not humanoid. I look forward to some other creations appearing at a theater near me. Today the only limitation is the imagination of the artist, and the time of the CGI artists, to make anything we dream come to life.
I write mostly military based science fiction and fantasy. It is my preferred niche. I think that the conflict really drives the story. What would a fantasy story be without conflict other than My Little Ponies? Science fiction can have other forms of conflict; man against planet, against space itself. Some people even believe that once we get established in space humankind will give up its warlike ways. I really don’t believe it. We are hard wired to be aggressive and territorial, just like the apes we came from. We’ve taken it to a whole other level of course. Most apes don’t kill within their own species, while that seems to be out preferred method of operation. Now we are carnivores, or at least omnivores. Are herbivores capable of intelligence? And if they are, can they be aggressive? I think anyone who has seen a charging rhino or a snorting bull would agree they definitely can be aggressive. Are all intelligent species aggressive? I guess they really don’t have to be until they run into a truly aggressive species and then it’s either learn war or go under. And can we actually change our natures through nurture. Can humanity become a totally peaceful species through psychology or drugs? And would we really want to make ourselves so helpless?
One of my favorite Larry Niven stories came from the known space series. Mankind has become the peaceful we don’t study war no more species that many flower children wished it to be. Anyone who used a fist on another person was brought in for treatment and reprogrammed. History classes were even censored, and only certain qualified people were taught about past wars, lest the delicate sensibilities of the rest of the race be disturbed (and maybe someone get ideas about conquest of fellow humans). So some of these peaceable humans, who happen to include one of those who took the forbidden history courses, are in a feeble sublight Bussard ramjet on its way to one of the human colonies, pulling a tenth of a gravity acceleration. Up comes a big hawking sphere decelerating at two hundred gravities, which means the aliens either have much superior tech to the humans, are much tougher, or both. Their tech is really superior in some respects, and the humans believe that any species that advanced must be peaceful. Switch view into the alien spaceship, which is manned by three meter tall, one thousand pound catlike creatures called the Kzinti. Kzinti are not peaceful. Their whole rationale for living is to hunt and to conquer. They prefer their foe to give them a good fight for the sake of honor. But they’ll take their subject races as they find them, and this looks like a perfect subject race. Too feeble to win a war, but with enough acumen to become good slaves in a high tech society. The humans win by a fluke. They use their com laser to cut the alien ship in half before the Kzinti realize it is a weapon, and the humans send a signal back telling the home world that the good times are over.
I do believe there will be conflict in space, whether it is between humans or between humans and aliens. Despite all of the talk of morality by the world’s religions, the morality of many people is simply to get what they can by whatever means possible, including force if they can get away with it. I am sure that many alien species will have representatives of the same kind of moral code. There was a saying that was popular back in the sixties and seventies that it took two to make war. Actually it takes two to make peace. It only takes one to make uncontested conquest, with armies rolling over the borders to take life, property and freedom. If the invasion is contested then it takes two or more, and the name of the activity is then called a war. I don’t think many people or groups will allow themselves to just be steamrolled without a fight. And from that determination will come armed conflict, now and in the future.
Exodus: Empires at War: Book 1 was the surprise novel of my writing Universe. I had originally planned for a book promotion at the end of November for the novel, after a promotion of The Shadows of the Multiverse that was to propel that book to the same sales level as The Deep Dark Well. It didn’t work that way. Exodus Book 1 just seemed to take off as soon as it was released, selling over a thousand copies in its first six weeks. This week it has hit over 1,400 sales, and I fully expect it to go over two thousand by the end of the month. What surprised me was that Shadows had a bunch of five star reviews prior to its promotion, while Exodus started selling with no reviews and no likes. Now it has two 5 star and four 4 star, as well as a 3 and a lowly 1 that really didn’t make any sense. Oh, and still only one like, which leads me to question whether likes mean anything at all.
Tomorrow I will release Book 2 of the series, which in all respects is a continuation of the storyline told in Book 1. This will not always be the case with this series (and I am planning between 12 and 15 books in the series). There will be some spin offs that will feed into the overall tale but involve different characters, with only Cameo appearances by the main cast. Hopefully the 1,400 readers who have already bought the first book liked it enough to pick up the second. For those unfamiliar with the storyline, Exodus III is the name of the one refugee ship known to have escaped from the Ca’cadasan Empire, a large expansionist race whose goal is to exterminate humanity for a breach of honor during their conflict. A human killed the son of the Emperor during a landing after the humans in that system had surrendered. The human race sent a number of ships containing fifty thousand refugees each and the sum total knowledge of the humanity. One is known to have escaped, and fled ten thousand light years on a thousand year voyage to another arm of the Galaxy, where they have reestablished themselves. A thousand years later and the New Terran Empire boasts thousands of inhabited worlds and a population of about a trillion. They are the preeminent military power of their region of space. And the Ca’cadasans have found them, setting up a clash of mighty Empires that will ravage hundreds of worlds and kill hundreds of billions.
It is also the story of a young man, an Imperial Prince, who is a serving officer on an Imperial Battleship. Sean Ogden Lee Romanov is a very junior officer aboard the vessel, a Lieutenant SG, third in line for the throne. The posting is one intended to give him some experience while not putting his life in danger. Reality soon overtakes this illusion, and Sean finds himself first in danger of his life, then in a position he had hoped to never occupy.
Exodus is a story with a lot of characters covering an enormous expanse of territory. I did not feel that the tale could be told in any other manner. It can be confusing to some readers. Think Harry Turtledove if you want an idea of the style. It also contains a lot of technical data, some real, some made up. Think David Weber without long info dumps. It is the kind of tale I always wanted to write, while being told that first novels can’t be too long or have too many characters. This is not my first novel, and as a self published author now I make the rules. And so far sales seem to have shown that I made the right choice. And now for an excerpt:
Gabriel Len Lenkowski had enjoyed his job as Chief of Naval Operations. Of working with the Fleet, and in particular with this Emperor. But the Emperor was gone, and he knew little about the son who was now first in line for succession. If he was still alive, that is.
The Admiral looked out over the city as he walked along the roof of the Hexagon, the military headquarters for the Empire. The huge office building stood almost a kilometer in height, dwarfed by the many megascrapers of the city. It outdid any of them in girth, more like an Arcology than an office building. And it extended under the earth for several more kilometers, ending in the bunker like shelters that were proof against all but heavy kinetic rounds or warheads in the gigaton range.
“You ready to launch?” he asked the crew chief as soon as he entered the shuttle that was waiting on the landing platform.
“As soon as you strap in, sir,” said the senior CPO who chiefed the Admiral’s personal craft. “You of course want your usual position?”
“Of course, chief,” said the Admiral, walking past the crewman to the cockpit hatch, which opened at his approach. Len slid into the chair next to the pilot and strapped himself in.
“Welcome aboard sir,” said the pilot, a young Lt. Commander. “Wish the circumstances were better.”
“Me too, Sally,” said the Admiral, trying to force a smile on his face that would not come. “Me too. Just get me up to the Valkyrie pronto, and we can get this business over with.
The pilot nodded, checked a few indicators, and took the ship up on grabbers. The Admiral looked to the side at the huge city that just the other day was in the middle of a millennial celebration. Supposed to last a whole year, thought the Admiral. There had been events planned out for the entire T-year, to culminate in the Imperial Athletic Games that would have brought maybe a billion people to the planet. Instead we have a yearlong period of mourning for an assassinated Emperor.
The shuttle passed over Peal Island, the nine hundred square kilometer land mass at the mouth of the bay. Down there was the primary academy for training officers of the fleet. Len was scheduled to make a commencement speech for this year’s graduating class, those who had spent their four years of classroom studies and were preparing to go on field studies. He wondered how the war the Emperor knew was coming would affect that graduation. The fleet would need more officers, and soon, and many of those young men and women might have to get on the job field training, in a shooting war.
The island and the surface of the ocean dropped behind and below as the ship moved into space, pulling the gravities needed to go directly to geosynch and the ship waiting for the Admiral. He trusted the Captain of that ship, as he trusted the Admiral of its task force. He could not force them to take the risk that he knew he must. A risk to both free an innocent woman, and get military necessary production back on schedule.
The forward port hanger of Valkyrie was ready for him, with a full Marine honor guard and gathered ship’s officers to pipe him aboard.
“At ease,” he barked as he stepped from the shuttle onto the deck of the hanger. “Thank you for the welcoming committee, Captain Mathers,” he said to the blond commander of the vessel. She tilted her head, then led him to the flag bridge he would occupy for this short mission. The bridge was occupied by a full complement of officers, even though there would only be two battleships involved in this day’s events.
“I’ll be on the bridge,” said the Captain to the Chief of Naval Operations who had been commandant when she had graduated from Peal Island five decades before. “We are ready to do whatever you feel is necessary sir.”
“With no hesitation, Connie?”
“None at all, sir,” said the small trim officer. “If you want that damned wanderer destroyed we will be obliged to do it.”
“I hope it doesn’t come to that,” said the CNO with a smile. “I appreciate this, Connie. Now get her under way.”
“Aye aye, sir,” said the Captain, snapping to attention and giving a salute, then spinning on her heel and walking from the flag bridge.
“We are under way, sir” said one of the officers sitting a station on the lower level.
“Odin is also under way,” called out another officer.
“Thank you,” said the Admiral, plopping back in the elevated chair that allowed him a total view of the large bridge. He couldn’t even feel the twenty million ton superbattleship moving, which was not surprising, given her well-tuned compensators. He looked over at a wall repeater which showed the fifteen million ton battleship that was Valkyrie’s consort on this impromptu mission.
“Ten hours to hyper limit,” called out an officer.
“Incoming message for the Admiral,” said the com tech from her position on his level.
“I’ll take it in my day cabin,” said the Admiral, getting up from the chair and heading for the exit that led to the Admiral’s cabin on all capital ship flag bridges. One of the advantages of standardization, he thought as he headed into his cabin.
As soon as he took a seat at the desk in the cabin he activated the com with his link, and was unsurprised to see the image of Ekaterina Sergiov, the head of the IIA, appear.
“So,” said the woman with a slight accent of her home world, St. Peiter, coming through her educated overlay. “You are in space.”
“I don’t see that I have any other choice,” said the Admiral, the slight touch of fear in his chest. He was doing this on his own, and the consequences could be grave. “I failed my Emperor and my friend. I can’t allow the search for a scapegoat to hurt the Empire. And what are your findings.”
“She is innocent,” said the head of Imperial Intelligence, her face troubled. “I have told that to my counterpart in IIB, and he will do nothing about it. He will not say it, but I think you are correct, Len, my friend. He needs a scapegoat, and is not willing to admit that he was caught with his pants down.”
“Hell, we were all caught with our pants down, Kate,” he said to the woman he had once been married to, in what seemed a lifetime before. Before their careers had pulled them apart. “I feel like I have betrayed Augustine myself, as if I launched that missile that tossed him and the Imperial family into that damned star eater.”
“We all failed the Emperor,” said the chief spy of the Empire. “At least we have admitted it on behalf of our two agencies. That damned McGregor would not admit to any failings. His Bureau must maintain a perfect record, even if we both know it doesn’t have one.”
“Did you try him again?” said the Admiral, knowing what the answer would be, but hopeful nonetheless.
“Yes,” said the woman, her angry eyes glaring into the screen. “He said it was a criminal investigation, and so in his jurisdiction. And warned me to keep my agency out of it. When I asked him about what proof he had, he said he didn’t have to have any. He could hold her indefinitely.”
“And sabotage the efforts of the Donut Project to get the Fleet what they need,” said the Admiral in a growl.
“How far are you willing to go?” she asked, her eyes showing her concern for an old friend and lover.
“As far as I have to,” he replied, slamming a hand down on his desk. “We’ll be eight light hours from com link to the capital, so they won’t be able to contact McGregor. I really don’t expect much resistance. But whatever they give I will push back, and harder.”
“I’ll back you up,” said Ekaterina with a nod. “You know that.”
“I know,” said the Admiral, feeling his eyes moisten. “And I’m sorry I failed you in the past.”
“No need,” said the spy master with a smile, her own eyes glistening withheld tears. “We both got what we wanted out of life. And we parted as friends. What more could we ask?”
“True,” said the Admiral, holding back his own tears. They both sat there in silence for a moment. “You watch your back,” he finally said to the chief spy.
“My back is watched,” said Ekaterina. “You do the same. There will be people after your hide.”
“This is my office for the duration,” said the Admiral with a chuckle. “If they want to try for me they’re going to have to come through the Fleet to get me.”
“I just hope it doesn’t result in civil war,” said the woman, her eyes narrowing. “That’s something we surely can’t afford, especially now.”
“We have the Fleet and the Army on our side,” said the Admiral, the image of a civil war also in mind. “I think it would be very short, if it came to that. Not that I want that to happen. But I also cannot let things proceed the way they are. McGregor is in the Lords’ pocket. No doubt. And I cannot let him proceed with what he is doing. That project is just too important to the safety of the Empire.”
Well, be careful,” said the chief spy. “Remember, we all felt that the Emperor was safe in the hands of the Fleet. It only takes one assassin in the right place to make all the security in the world useless.”
Ekaterina broke the link at that, and the Admiral thought of what she had to say for a moment. The sense of guilt came back to haunt him. The Fleet had failed to protect their Emperor. Even worse, a trusted member of the Fleet had killed the Emperor and most of his family, as well as fellow officers and spacemen. It was a blot on the honor of the Fleet, and to his personal sense of honor. But I’ll be damned if I let it lead to even more dishonorable actions.
The Admiral lay down on the bed that was provided with the cabin, ordering it through the link to set itself to his personal comfort level. His brain was in turmoil, but his link projected the deep delta waves that placed him into an immediate slumber. The link woke him up at the same time the slight nausea of hyper translation would have done the same.
“We’re in hyper I Admiral,” came the voice of Captain Connie Mathers. “Mission proceeding according to plan.
“Thank you, Connie,” replied the Admiral, getting up from the bed, smoothing his uniform, the wrinkles falling away. “I’ll be on the flag bridge.”
The officers and ratings all jumped to attention as the Admiral walked onto the second level of the flag bridge, his eyes tracking onto the large holo tank in the center of the room. He waved a hand, sending everyone back to their ease, wondering again who had come up with the silly custom of men and women stopping their important work to stroke the ego of some bastard just because he entered their line of sight.
The holo displayed the whole of the supersytem, from the black hole in the center to the seventh star out in its lonely orbit. All of the planets were indicated with vector arrows and numbers that signified speed of orbit and distance from the flagship. He thought through his link and his personal view of the holo changed, zooming in on the flagship and her consort. Their vector arrows appeared, and the line of the hyper I limit showed behind them, the line of hyper II ahead. The mission profile was to jump each hyper as soon as they got to it, staying below point two light relative velocity, until they jumped to hyper VI. Then it was a least time accel/decel profile to the target, popping out of hyper VI directly into normal space. Of course the target would know they were coming, and would also know they were Imperial Fleet vessels. With luck they would not think anything of it.
The Admiral went to his seat and sat, brooding on his thoughts and waiting for time to pass. The ship in time jumped up to hyper II, then III, then along the line up to VI. At this point the vessels went into an acceleration profile, two hundred and fifty gravities just a little under half way there, then two fifty decel the rest of the way. All this time the Admiral thought about what he was doing, having doubts, thinking through possible consequences, knowing that if the Emperor were still alive he would not have this problem thrust upon him. Augustine would have handled the situation with a word. Even Sean would have handled the situation. Of that the Admiral was sure. Because Sean was his father’s son, above all else.
But Sean is not here, thought the Admiral. Someone had already made an attempt on the Prince. And they might have made further attempts on his life since the news had come from Sector Four. Of course Sean was now protected by the Fleet. But the Fleet had failed his father, mother and brothers. The only family member in direct line was a child who would be too easily manipulated. So that left the problem square in his lap.
High Grand Admiral Len Lenkowski, Chief of Naval Operations, had sworn an oath when he entered Imperial Service, to defend the Empire against all enemies, foreign and domestic. Intentional or not, the act of Director McGregor of the IIB was hurting the efforts of the military to prepare for a war they were sure was coming. Parliament might not agree with that assumption, but the Emperor the Admiral had sworn to serve was sure of it, and that was good enough for him.
“Translating back to normal space,” came a call from the nav officer on the ship’s bridge.
Damn, thought the Admiral as the nausea struck. What happened to the time?
The ship slipped through the iris that was filled with normal space, away from the strange space of hyper. They were slowly coasting, moving at a mere six hundred kilometers per second.
“Range to target four hundred twelve thousand kilometers,” came the voice of the navigator again.
Almost a perfect translation, thought the Admiral. Eleven minutes at current speed, though the ship was now piling on deceleration so she could come to a stop just short of the small planet.
“Imperial warship Valkyrie,” came the voice over the com. “This is Purgatory control. What are your intentions?”
“Don’t answer that,” said the Admiral to the staff. “Let them sweat for a moment. Tactical. Target all laser and particle beam systems of the task force on their defensive weapons. Distribute targets between Valkyrie and Odin. All Marines to assault shuttles.”
The confirmations came back quickly, the plan being set into motion by an experienced team.
“We are getting inquiries from the defense force,” called the com officer.
“Who are they?” asked the Admiral, focusing on the holo tank which had reconfigured to show the local area.
“Imperial cruiser River Platte and two destroyers,” called back one of the tactical officers. “Along with four IP frigates belonging to the Imperial Bureau of Prisons.”
“Inform the Fleet ships that they are no longer under local control, but are to stand down and prepare to aid us,” ordered the Admiral, looking at the holo and focusing on one of the civilian ships. “Send my authentication codes.”
“And the Bureau ships?” asked the second com tech, looking over her shoulder at the Admiral. “They’re lighting my board, Admiral, sending multiple inquiries.”
“Tell them to also stand down,” said Len, glaring at the frigate he had brought into zoom focus. “Under pain of being fired upon.”
There, he thought, switching his view to another frigate. I’ve stuck it in for good now.
“We’re still getting inquiries from the planet,” yelled out the chief com officer.
The Admiral checked the status of the ship, noting that they were only thirty-four seconds from a complete stop. “Put them on the line.”
“Prison planet Purgatory,” came the voice over the com. “Valkyrie, what are your intentions. Repeat, you are approaching restricted space and are warned away. This is Central Control of Prison Planet Purgatory.”
“This is High Grand Admiral Lenkowski,” said the Admiral in his most forceful voice. “Chief of Naval Operations for the New Terran Empire Navy. We are here on official Fleet business. You are holding a prisoner illegally, and we will take her with us.”
“Launch,” said the Admiral, leaning over and looking at the Marine liaison officer.
“Launching,” said that officer. Moments later the holo was filled with the green arrows of assault shuttles, moving away from the battleships and toward the planet.
“You are not authorized to take prisoners from this installation,” came the voice of Central Control. “You must have permission of the Imperial Bureau of Prisons, or a court order to take a prisoner.”
“Nonetheless, we have come for a prisoner that you will release to my custody,” said the Admiral. “Prepare to be boarded by my Marines.”
“Their weapons are fully powered,” said one of the tactical officers.
“Any attempt to take anyone off this station will be met with deadly force,” said the Central Controller. “This is an illegal action, and will subject all participants to prosecution and arrest.”
“Please,” said one of the techs with a laugh.
“Do not fire on our shuttles,” said the Admiral, hoping the damned fools would see reason.
“They’ve fired a shot,” said the tactical commander. “No hit. Looks like a warning shot.”
“Take out all of their weapons installations, except for the fort,” ordered the Admiral in a cold voice. The tactical officer looked back at the Admiral with wide eyes. “Now, Commander.”
“Aye aye, sir,” said the Commander, turning back to his board.
There were eighty-five weapons installations on the planet’s surface, lasers and missile batteries, and three dozen platforms in space. The battleships opened up with all laser batteries and particle beams. In moments the installations, not made to stand up to capital ship bombardment, were silenced.
“The fort is sending capitulation signals,” said the com officer. “The naval personnel aboard have taken over.”
“I kind of thought they would,” said the Admiral with a smile. “Now I can only the hope the one on the other side of the planet does the same.” He looked over at the Marine officer. “Keep me apprised of the assault.” The officer nodded and kept at his board, talking into the com link.
“One of the frigates is firing missiles,” called out the Commander in charge of tactical.
“Take them out,” ordered the Admiral, knowing he didn’t have to give defensive commands. The captains in charge would see to that. The ship vibrated slightly at that thought, the battleship cycling counter missiles. There really was no chance that a frigate would shoot its way through the defenses of two capital ships.
The holo showed the reward that came the way of the frigate, as it exploded in space under the assault of hundreds of pentawatts of laser power.
“If any of those others are stupid enough to fire, blast them,” said the Admiral, his attention drawn to a high mounted side screen where the assault shuttles were blasting the doors of the hanger bays, then flying in.
The Admiral fretted for a couple of minutes, worrying about what might be happening during the Marine assault. Something he couldn’t do anything about, which made it so much more worrisome.
“We are meeting some resistance,” said the Marine Liaison Officer. “Nothing really unexpected, sir. And nothing our boys and girls can’t handle.”
Pray God we just keep the casualties light on both sides, thought the Admiral. He knew that none of those fighting was responsible for this mess. For the most part the prison security force were good men doing a job. And some of them were going to die for it because they were standing in the way of what should be done.
More time passed. The Admiral restrained himself from watching through the cameras of the Marines. There would be too much temptation to step in and micromanage. Something the Corps didn’t condone, much less the Navy.
“We have her, sir,” said the Marine Liaison Officer. “She’s in good shape. And the Colonel is also reporting some surprising prisoners we thought long gone.”
Len looked at the dozen names that scrolled across his link, whistling at some of them. Men who had disappeared, presumed dead. Held in captivity in that hell hole for how long? “Make sure they get aboard as well.”
Within another half hour it was over, and a signal sent to the IIB HQ on Jewel would still be seven hours in transit to reach anyone who could do anything.
“Everyone is aboard, Admiral,” said the liaison officer.
“How many casualties?”
“The Marines have three permanent dead,” said the officer, the smile leaving his face. “Another fifty-four that should all return to duty.”
“Thank you Lord,” whispered the Admiral under his breath. He didn’t ask the casualty figures for the defenders. He didn’t want to know. “Bring the prisoner to the flag bridge, if you please, Major,” he said to the Marine Liaison. That man nodded.
“Central Control,” said the Admiral, switching on the link back to the outgoing com. “We will be leaving now. Thank you for your cooperation.”
“You will regret this, Admiral,” said the voice of the controller.
I already do, thought the Admiral, again thinking about those who had died this day. He got up from his seat and headed back to the day cabin, staggering just a step as the ship jumped back into hyper VI.
A few minutes later the door buzzer sounded. “Come in,” he said, watching the door as it opened. An officer stood at the door.
“She’s here, Admiral,” said the man, gesturing the tall blond woman with slightly slanted eyes into the compartment. The Admiral nodded his thanks and gestured the woman to a chair.
“I’m sure you’re wondering what this is about,” said the Admiral, leaning forward across the desk.
“Not as much as I’m thankful to get out of that place,” said Dr. Lucille Yu, a smile creeping across her face.
“We’ll make sure you don’t return,” said the Admiral, noting the intelligent eyes of the woman. “You shouldn’t have been there in the first place.”
“So,” said the scientist in a soft voice. “What happens to me now?”
“You go back to work,” said the Admiral. “Getting the Fleet what it needs from the Donut Project.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that,” agreed the Admiral, holding his hands open to her.
“And what’s to stop them from putting me back in that place?”
“We’re to stop them,” said the Admiral. “We’ll get you back on the station and keep you secure. It will mean having to give up some privacy.”
“But I’ll be able to work,” said the woman, tears coming to her eyes. “That’s all I want to do. Do my work, and help my society.”
And Len Lenkowski knew he had made the right decision this day. Now he just had to live with the consequences.
The Shadows of the Multiverse is Officially live today as a Free Ebook on Amazon through KDP select. The promotion worked very well for The Deep Dark Well, not as well for The Hunger, but as this is a science fiction novel I am hopeful it will do as well as TDDW and will get out into the hands of many readers, who will generously go back to the Amazon page and write a review (hint, hint). The promotion will run through Tuesday, 10/30/2012, after which the book will be offered for the ridiculously low price of $2.99. So far I have gotten three reviews of this novel, all five star, with another promised from someone who told me it was better than TDDW. Don’t know about that, but I think it is a very good novel, one which fans of both hard science fiction and science fantasy should enjoy.
Set nine hundred years in the future, when the solar system is the home of several governments and almost a trillion citizens, many of them in the mass of space habitations in the Dyson Swarm around the sun, the human race has spread to other stars by use of the many faceted gates that orbit a half dozen planets in each of the Galaxies throughout our Cosmos. There are lots of ruins across this space, both eroded on planetary surfaces and in pristine condition in the vacuum of space, showing that a lot of sentient races have appeared and disappeared throughout the last ten billion years. The real mystery is that many seem to have fallen at the same time, in cycles, and that there are no signs of a great war or natural catastrophe to explain where they went. And then we meet the catastrophe come to life, in the form of creatures from another dimension that fear our quantum minds. The mystery is solved, but unlike some mysteries finding out the truth does not in any way lessen the threat posed by the nightmare personified that is the Weavers (so called because they can weave reality into the form they want).
Three unlikely heroes are called to fight the Weavers, who are pretty much immune to the weapons deployed by the space faring races. Lucille Yamamoto is the captain of a Terran Federation battle cruiser. Known as Lucky Lucille throughout her career for her uncanny streak of fortunate circumstances, Lucille is a more than competent captain who is hated for her luck by many over her. Howard Turner was once a physicist who gave up his research into weapons of mass destruction based on the Zero Point Energy of Space. Known as Howard the Luck in scientific circles, Howard is also an extremely fortunate man for whom the ball always seems to bounce in his direction. Siobahn Hunsicker is the child of missionaries, and the third member of the trio who are the only hope of the Universe. The three must learn to use their abilities to fight creatures of equal ability, and must do so before it is too late. I hope my readers will find this one as imaginative and enjoyable as The Deep Dark Well. Get it now while it is free, and remember, reviews are much appreciated. And now for an excerpt.
“What in the name of the ten hells are they doing?” exclaimed Admiral G’Narjanasan.
“It would seem to serve no purpose,” agreed the tactical officer.
“How far are they from us?” asked the admiral through his com link, wishing he were not so constrained by his acceleration tube.
“Over seven light minutes,” said the tactical officer.
“Over six hours travel time at their current velocity,” said the nav officer.
“Their ship would reach us before those projectiles,” said the tactical officer.
“So the projectiles serve no offensive purpose,” said the admiral, his eyestalks straining to see the view of the enemy ship. Purely a reflex action as the image was actually projected directly into his visual cortex. “Do they serve a defensive purpose? Or a diversion?”
“I assume they were intended for one of those purposes,” said the tactical officer. “Which one I am unsure of. And what good it will do them I am also unsure.”
“They must feel it serves a useful purpose,” said the nav officer.
“We will just have to wait and see,” said the admiral. “But they are of no immediate concern to us. What of the convoy?”
“They are heading away from us at maximum acceleration,” stated the nav officer. “But they can at best make twelve gees with their slower freighters. We should be within effective main weapon’s range in approximately ten hours.”
“And the battle-cruiser will be within range of our weapons,” said the tactical officer, “and we within range of hers in about seven hours.”
“One capital ship against our entire force,” said the admiral. “What can they do without any support?”
What do they expect to do, thought the admiral. It depended on the ship’s commander. Was he a fool or a genius? Or would chance decide the fate of the human ship? Only time would tell. Seven hours’ time.
The admiral turned his attention to other matters. Like the disposition of the enemy ships they were vectoring toward. The escorts were falling back from the merchant vessels even farther, obviously hoping to sacrifice themselves that their charges might escape. A false hope, thought G’Narjanasan. The escorts would cause minimal damage to his own ships while he destroyed them utterly. And then went on to sweep up the defenseless cargo vessels.
“Detonation,” called one of the bridge officers, catching the attention of the admiral who brought up the view toward the battle-cruiser. One of the warheads had flared, causing sensory nodes to switch to heavy filter mode to dampen the deluge of radiation. Seconds later another of the warheads flared, followed by yet another and then a fourth. Seconds passed as the other forty-six warheads continued to fall toward the fleet.
The admiral noticed it just as the tactical officer brought it to his attention.
“The battle-cruiser is gone.”
Yes, the capital ship had seemed to disappear from his sensors, shielded by the flood of radiation that interposed their view of the human ship.
“The human captain set that spread of warheads on a path that would cloud their approach,” said the admiral. “Keep a close watch in case we catch some hint of movement out there. But they obviously intend to detonate those other warheads at points that will maximize their ability to hide the ship.”
“Or make us think that they maximize it,” said the navigation officer. “If I was the captain I would make sure the pattern of detonations gave us multiple possibilities to think of.”
“Contact the other captains,” ordered the admiral. “Calculate all possible paths that the enemy ship might take and keep running the calculations to update probabilities. Assign a ship to sweep the path of each possibility with a portion of their sensory systems.”
“Aye sir,” replied the flag captain, as communications officers worked diligently to send the messages on secured tight beams to the other ships of the fleet.
That devil might cause more damage than I find acceptable, thought the admiral. But they would not stop the fleet from reaching its target. Nor would they escape destruction themselves. The admiral relaxed, sure in his decisions and confident in the ability of his squadron to handle anything the inferior enemy force could throw at him.
Find it here. The Shadows of the Mutliverse
As stated in my last blog entry, I will be offering my sort of hard science fiction novel The Shadows of the Multiverse for free on Kindle from Friday, 10/26/2012 through Tuesday, 10/30/2012. I say sort of hard scifi because, while the underpinnings of the setting are based on real world physics, there are definitely some fantastic elements involving the quantum mind. Like, is Schrödinger’s Cat just a thought experiment, or, if there is no sentient mind to see it fall, does a tree really fall in the woods? And by logical extension, is a really powerful quantum mind able to change reality to suit its purposes. Still, in the reread just before setting up the promotion I was again fascinated by the possibility of humans become Gods for all practical purposes.
The other dimensional creatures who all have this power are the antagonists of the story. While not really intelligent as we would judge such, they possess powerful quantum minds that are able to warp and change reality in our Universe. And they fear the power of other quantum minds that might develop among the intelligences of our Universe. So they resort to the solution that so many humans have resorted to in the past. They exterminate intelligences in our Universe so they will not grow to threaten their hegemony over the dimensions. So intelligent species grow in our Universe, spread out through space, develop the rudiments of the quantum mind in some of their members, and then the monsters appear and wipe the Universe clean of intelligent life, until the next cycle.
I originally sent this novel out to publishers under the title Weavers of Reality, the Weavers being the transdimensional creatures who are the enemy. That name was change from Quantum Reality. The problem was I really did not like either name, and this after coming up with the title The Deep Dark Well for the book before. Sometimes titles are easy, other times they are very difficult. The creatures are still called the Weavers. I had thought of calling them the Shadows, but as a fan of Babylon Five I thought that name was already taken. But Shadows still came out in the title.
The idea for the gates of course came from many sources. Fredrick Pohl, Stargate SG-1 among others. The gates are a little bit different though. Each is a large globe with three million facets, each leading to another gate somewhere across the Universe. And every gate in the Universe also has three million openings, not all leading to the same places as other gates, linking hundreds of billions of star systems into a network. The bottom line is that though the nearest stars are still years of travel time away, a habitable system three billion light years distant is just a jump through the gate. Civilizations exist in bubbles of space linked by the gates, while the Universe at large is still a mystery. It has a great effect on strategy, as the only way to attack an enemy system is through the gates, and fortifications are built around them to prevent a successful assault. Also, reinforcements are only a jump away. So wars are normally a series of overwhelming assaults until both sides get tired of being whipped by forces that outnumber them at some points, while they outnumber the enemy at other places, and the ebb and flow really favors no one.
The Shadows of the Multiverse will probably be a stand alone novel. There is not a lot more to do with the characters (and you will have to read the book to see why). I may, someday, write in this Universe again, or maybe not. Still, I hope my readers will enjoy it, and it will make them want to try another one of my books. And now for an excerpt.
“Goddamitt,” said Lt. Marishana Mangana. Lucille looked up from the acceleration tank she was crawling into to see what the assistant tac officer was looking at. The image of a battleship appeared on the main viewer, leaving the gate far to their rear.
“Shit,” added the captain to the cussing going through the bridge. Flashes appeared at the front of the long cylinder as a dozen missiles left their acceleration tubes and headed for their targets. Matter/antimatter warheads exploded into one of the covering destroyers, while the invisible beams of lasers ate through the hull of another.
“We aren’t at war with the Tripods,” exclaimed Lt. Ngyen. “What the hell are they doing?”
Taking advantage of surprise, thought Lucille. The poor bastards at the gate picket hesitated for a moment and paid for it with their lives. A single warhead impacted on the alien battleship, blasting a small hole in the forward hull. Within a second the counterattacking destroyer was spiraling away from the gate, a lifeless wreck. Another cylinder rushed from the gate, a second battleship. Followed by a third.
The lone remaining destroyer maneuvered as fast as her crew could handle, moving along the side of the gate sphere as if trying to escape. Two of the Tripod battleships flared thrusters as they turned to follow, trying to lock their stationary particle beams on the target that was dodging and weaving away from their laser turrets. A missile left a tube, followed by another. But the destroyer’s crew was on the ball and a dozen interceptors left its stern mere microseconds after the missiles. Interceptor missiles struck, antimatter warheads erupted, and the space between hunter and hunted was filled with hellish radiation.
“They really foxed them,” said Ngyen, admiration in his voice.
Yes, thought Lucille. The radiation will interfere with target acquisition as well as helping to diffuse the power of laser and particle beams.
The destroyer rotated swiftly in a maneuver guaranteed to cause casualties if the crew wasn’t in the tanks. A message carrier streaked from a bow tube at thousands of gees acceleration, heading into a specific facet of the gate and disappearing before anyone could do anything about it.
Then the destroyer pulled another high gee turn, lining her own bow up on one of the pursuers and unleashing a volley of missiles. It was to be her last volley. Incoming fire tore through the radiation cloud. Some of the enemy missiles lost target lock and sailed past the smaller ship. Others smashed into her nose, warheads powerful enough to cripple a battle-cruiser like Navarin exploding into the thinly armored hull. The fire of explosion ran instantly down the length of the ship, engulfing her in a maelstrom of flame while pieces of hull and fragments of internal machinery spun into the cold of space, as if trying to escape the inferno. When the flame had attenuated enough to see the destroyer was gone as if it hadn’t existed. Gone too were the three hundred crewmen and women aboard.
Counter missiles from a tripod battleship took out two of the destroyer’s last volley. Laser fire from the target ship took out two more, leaving one to slam into the bow of the battlewagon. The battleship was most heavily armored at the bow, while the destroyer’s torpedo was not nearly as powerful as the ones that had been launched by the tripod battleships. But the fury of its explosion still caused damage to the battleship’s forward missile tubes and its particle beam projectors, as well as closing off its main KE cannon tube. It also took most of the ship’s forward momentum away in an instant, which couldn’t have been healthy for the crew.
The bridge crew of the Navarin cheered as the fury of the explosion stopped the enemy ship in its tracks. While not a deathblow, or even enough damage to keep the battleship out of action, it was still a weakening of enemy power.
The cheer died to a hush as another Tripod battleship popped from the gate, followed by another. Then in single file a mass of cruisers and destroyers. Within minutes the ships had clustered into task forces and all were boosting for destinations throughout the system. Lucille only had eyes for one of the groups though. On the tactical was displayed an arrow with figures showing two battleships, a heavy cruiser and five destroyers. Their heading was toward the convoy she was tasked to protect. The convoy she was nowhere near.
“Sharks are on the way,” she muttered to herself. “Already fifteen minutes on the way toward my minnows.”
“Into the tanks, everyone,” she shouted across the bridge. “Maximum accel in one minute.”
Crew scrambled into their tanks, completing the last second safety checks that would ensure that they survived the killing acceleration that was to come. All over the ship people did the same, disciplined to think of no other task than to seek safety. Because when full boost came in an emergency situation there would be no time to make sure everyone was safe.
In an earlier post we looked at the possible alien sense of sight and possibilities other than sight to produce a picture of the world. Things such as sonar and radar were also discussed. Now on our world some animals have much better hearing than vision, and it seems to serve them well. Dogs and cats have a much higher range of hearing, and dogs can hear rodents running through the ground across a field. In fact dogs can hear four tones for every one we hear, which means that perfectly tuned guitar might sound horribly out of tune to them. Now hearing is best in animals which live in environments where sight might be limited. Sight hounds like Afghans and Greyhounds do not have quite the hearing of their cousins, though it is still very good. But their eyes are much better, since they hunt across open plains. Our hearing is adequate for our purposes, though our eyes are superior in most respects to any other animal. We don’t allocate as much brain area to hearing as we do to sight. Our visual cortex takes up an entire lobe, about a quarter of our brain mass. Hearing a small section of one. But we hear well enough to communicate, and that seems to be enough for a well sighted like us. Speaking about communication, research shows that deaf people are on the whole more depressed than blind people. Seems that the sound of another human communicating to us is important to our psychological well being. But I still always thought I could do better deaf than blind. Then again, as a writer I can work without having to hear anything, while being without vision would be a pure bitch. So what would the hearing be like for another intelligent species? And could it be the dominant sense?
In Star Trek Spock had superior hearing because the atmosphere of Vulcan was thinner than Earth’s. It would make sense for organisms that developed in a thinner atmosphere to have superior hearing to a similar Earth animal for the simple reason that less dense atmospheres conduct sound at a slower and less robust rate. Also, the more stealthy predators there are the better the hearing should be. Now in space hearing is a sense that could be done without. Not that it isn’t useful, but sound doesn’t transmit in a vacuum, and visual displays could handle all communication. So there could be space faring races that are completely deaf, though not having the utility of hearing on a planet’s surface is still a detriment. Having something sneak up on you that isn’t really stealthy, because you can’t hear, would be an embarrassing way to die. Of course another sense like 360 radar sense or vision might compensate, but if the creature has to sleep hearing is a good sense for picking up the approach of an intruder and waking one up.
So what about for communication? Visual signals or scents might do the job, but good old talking, yelling whatever covers a good distance and goes around corners. Hearing seems like to useful a sense to leave out of the package for most creatures. So will there be intelligent creatures that are deaf, or at least don’t possess hearing organs, depending on picking up vibrations in other ways? Probably, but I would still put my money on most of them having hearing organs of some type, and picking up sounds for communications and survival purposes. They might have hearing organs like we do, and two seem to do a good job at giving us a directional sense of hearing, but hearing vibrations through the skin might do the job. Hearing in the lower ranges might do as well as hearing across all ranges, but there is a reason that animals with sensitive hearing have such a good range, much higher than our own. And of course we would expect intelligent creatures to not have as good a sense of hearing as lower animals on their world, or would we. There are all kinds of possibilities, and I don’t think we can rule any out just based on our own world examples.
