Cassidy
Page 1
Contents
The Color of Water and Sky
Copyright Information
Cassidy
Forward
Prologue
Awakening
Discovery
Agro-Platform
Golden
Hurricane
Behemoth
Disturbances
Prisoner
Split
Evolved-One
Allora
Rescue
Bombardment
Mourning
Reunion
Kholvari
Ruors
Alive
Epilogue
Preview Content
Veznek
Note from the Author
About the Author
The following novel is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this story have been invented by the author’s imagination and are not intended to represent anything in the real world.
First proof copy published for America by Createspace in 2017. Printed in America by Createspace, a DBA of On-Demand Publishing LLC, part of the Amazon group of companies.
First edition.
The Color of Water and Sky: Cassidy
Copyright © 2017 by Andrew Gates
Written by Andrew Gates
Cover Art by Sarah Anderson
Featuring Art by Laercio Messias
All rights reserved
ISBN-13: 978-1976205286
ISBN-10: 197620528X
I am not typically the type of writer who includes a forward with my books, but I felt like making an exception here. The story you are about to read is unique in many ways. Not only is it the first spinoff novel based on my series, The Color of Water and Sky, but I have gone about writing this book in an entirely different manner. I thought, given these circumstances, including a forward simply made sense.
For those readers familiar with my series, The Color of Water and Sky, you are likely wondering how this story will fit in with the other books. In short, Cassidy takes place parallel to the events in the first three books of the main series. That means the plot elapses about 10 months’ time in just a few, short pages. Readers familiar with the series will likely recognize the prologues from the first two books, which have been republished here as regular chapters.
For those readers unfamiliar with the series, you are likely wondering if this book is a good choice for you. Worry not! Though Cassidy takes place in the same world as my other books, this is meant to be read on its own. So whether this is your first foray into the world, or if you already know every character inside and out, you will be able to enjoy this story all the same.
The idea for this spinoff novel came to me as I was working on the second book in the series. I had this story in my mind from the start, but I didn't feel like including it as a subplot in the other books. With so much going on in the main series already, I didn't want to clutter an already busy story. That's when I decided to write it as a separate piece. But alas, with a regular job and other writing projects to tackle, where would I find the time to fit this in? That's when I hatched a brilliant plan...
Writing this book has been an experiment in more ways than one. The story you are about to read, and even this forward, has been written entirely during my commutes (excluding the two chapters which have been reused from other novels). Even now, I type these words on a local bus, traveling home after a busy day.
The entire story is written on a Motorola Xoom tablet, which, even for the time this book is written, is an outdated piece of technology. Trust me; I get a lot of looks. The writing process is admittedly slow, but through numerous rides on trains, busses and even airplanes, eventually a finished novel has come out of it all. These writing sessions have provided me with an abundance of entertainment along my commutes. I hope this book does the same for you along your own commute, or wherever you decide to take this book.
Cassidy is a story about surviving: surviving the elements, surviving illness, even surviving one's self. Everyone goes through moments in their life when they may find it difficult to push through and carry on. It is my hope that you can draw inspiration from the journeys of these characters.
Most of all, I just hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Is that cliché enough? Alas, I think that's about all I need for a forward. Without further ado, here is Cassidy.
CARTER OPENED HIS EYES AND looked himself in the mirror. The suit fit him well. He was not accustomed to seeing himself so dressed up. He made sure his tie was straight, then ran his fingers through his hair.
He took a deep breath. This was it. This was the moment he had been waiting for.
Carter grabbed the holographic projector from the sink top and held it firmly in his sweaty hands.
“Here we go,” he said aloud.
The 32-year-old engineer turned and walked out of the men’s room. The black hall outside was bustling with well-dressed men and women, quickly making their way through the office complex. Carter tried not to get caught up in the excitement of it all. He held his projector firmly in hand and proceeded to the committee room. It did not take long to get there. He pressed on the thick door and hastily proceeded through.
Some of the elected officials, or EOs, were already present. Their chairs faced him as he entered the room. A massive crimson flag hung above their heads, adding a bit of color to this otherwise dark interior.
A young Navy guard in a white suit approached him.
“Name, sir?” the man asked. He looked about 20, not much older than Carter was when he first enlisted.
“Dr. Carter Brown,” he answered. He pulled out his ID. “I am here for the hearing.”
“My apologies, Dr. Brown. I did not know it was you. I expected someone...”
“Older?”
The Navy man was silent. He simply motioned to an empty chair behind a desk facing the EOs.
“Please,” he said.
Carter followed the guard’s order and took a seat behind the desk. A glass of water was already waiting for him. He instinctively took a sip as a few more EOs arrived and took their seats. It was not long before Deborah Otto, Chairwoman of the Oceanic Committee, arrived. Her bright white suit stood out in the world of black.
She took a seat and moved the microphone to her mouth.
“Good morning, everyone,” she said. Her voice echoed throughout the room. “Thank you all for coming. I know it is never easy to come back to work after the New Year celebration.”
This had been the first day back to work for most of the city following the bicentennial, but not for Carter. He had worked tirelessly over the last few days, making sure everything was right for his presentation.
“I would like to especially welcome our guest today, Dr. Carter Brown,” Otto continued.
Carter was not sure how to respond to this introduction. He simply waved back. He felt the EOs glare back at him. He must have been doing it wrong.
“The purpose of this hearing today is to evaluate Dr. Brown’s proposal to grant funding for the testing of his new exploratory ocean vessel. We will hear testimony firsthand from Dr. Brown himself and open the floor to questioning from members of this committee.”
Otto paused and looked to her colleagues, as if waiting for confirmation to proceed.
“Are we all ready?” she asked.
There were nods all around.
“Very well,” Otto said, turning back to face the room again. “I see no reason to delay. Dr. Brown, I look forward to hearing what you have to say. The floor is yours.”
Here it goes.
Carter placed the holographic projector on the table and stood up from his chair. He felt nervous, but he had rehearsed this a thousand times. As long as he recited it
as he had practiced, everything was going to work.
“Year 200, Atlantic Federation calendar,” he began. It was the perfect opening line; snappy, relevant and attention grabbing.
Carter cleared his throat. His line worked. All eyes were on him.
“I can hardly believe what year it is. It seemed like just yesterday, we were celebrating 190. Time never seems to progress the way I expect. To think that two full centuries have passed since the bombing of the surface,” he continued. With every word, he felt himself grow more and more confident. “The Atlantic Station is our home now, this extraordinary result of years of brilliant engineering. For us, this is the only world we have ever known, and for good reason. Don’t get me wrong, I am glad we live here. Humanity is free to live without exposure to the planet’s toxic surface. This place, all corniness aside, is the future.”
There were a few chuckles here and there. He wondered how many times they had heard the phrase “this is the future”.
“But still,” he continued, “at times I’m sure we have all wondered what secrets the surface still holds. Something has to be up there.”
Carter instinctively pointed to the ceiling. He had not rehearsed that, but it just felt right.
“Many of you know that I used to be a Navy engineer. Years ago, while searching through old Navy archives, I came across the ramblings of a mad scientist who claimed that the surface was populated by a race of intelligent crab people.”
More chuckles came from the EOs.
“Of course, this was nonsense, but that’s not the point. These ramblings, as crazy as they may be, got me thinking: what if something intelligent had survived the bombing?”
The chuckles stopped. The room was quiet. It seemed his question had done the trick.
“This question haunted my mind like a sickness. I could hardly sleep for weeks. My imagination was full of theories, some just as wild as the mad scientist’s. And so,” Carter continued, “I decided to do something about it.”
He turned to the holographic projector on the table and activated it. Instantly, a 3D image of a submarine concept filled the room. It spun ever so slightly to give viewers a look at all sides of the craft.
“I present to the Oceanic Committee, the first submarine since the Descent capable of shallow water exploration. Finally, we will have the proper tools to answer that great question of the surface. More durable than a simple probe, smaller than the Nautilus E10 and cheaper to produce than even the Ray 4T-80,” he explained. “Ladies and gentlemen of the committee, if you agree to fund this project, you are investing in answers to world’s greatest mysteries. Thank you.”
Carter sat down and powered off the hologram. He felt a smile form on his face. His short pitch had gone just as well as he’d hoped.
The room was quiet now. The EOs simply sat in silence, as if they were each waiting for another to speak. Otto adjusted in her chair, cleared her throat and eventually broke the awkward quietness.
“Thank you, Dr. Brown. As you can imagine, I have a few questions about your project. Firstly, if we were to fund such a project, what kind of timeline are we looking at?”
Carter leaned forward and spoke clearly into the mic.
“Assuming it all goes to plan, we can have a prototype developed by the end of summer. We can begin testing shortly thereafter.”
“And how long will the testing phase take?”
Carter sighed.
“That is harder to answer,” he explained. “It is difficult to predict an accurate testing period for projects like these. Sometimes it takes a few months, sometimes a few years.”
“I see,” the Chairwoman said. She adjusted in her seat again. “And how many crewmen would be needed to operate this craft?”
“Two, ma’am. One pilot and one co-pilot.”
Otto leaned back in her chair and let out an exhale.
“I must say, Dr. Brown, what you’re selling here seems quite impressive. If you can actually deliver something like you’re describing, that would be a remarkable achievement.”
Carter smiled. Those words were like music to his ears.
“I am glad to hear it,” he replied, hardly able to contain his excitement. “Trust me, I can deliver.”
“I’m sure my esteemed colleagues have many questions of their own. We shall move onto them in a moment, but before we do, I have just one final question for you, Dr. Brown. If your project gets funded and you actually build this thing... what would you call it?”
“I would name it something bold, something catchy, something that evokes the feeling of adventure,” Carter responded. “I would call it Cassidy.”
Darkness.
Darkness was all that ever shone through the thick layer of glass separating the pressurized hull of the submarine and the great deep ocean beyond its walls. Darkness was all that the captain of this small two man crew had ever known.
Sara leaned her face closer to the glass, hoping to see anything. But there was nothing to see, nothing but darkness.
“I don’t understand. What’s the point of this glass if there’s nothing to see?” asked Damien, Sara’s co-pilot. She heard him adjust himself in his cramped foam seat and straighten out his thick warm Navy jacket.
“Supposedly there is more to see up top once we get closer to the light,” Sara responded, still searching through the glass barrier for some evidence to support her words.
“Nothing our sensors couldn’t detect,” Damien retorted.
Sara knew he was right. They had been using the sub’s motion sensors and sonar this entire time. It was easy to navigate the entire way without the window. If anything, the window was a safety hazard. If something were to collide with the sub, the window would be the first to crack and depressurize the entire cabin. But Sara did not feel like challenging the wisdom of the sub’s designers so she kept quiet.
“Just do your job,” she said, trying to change the subject.
Damien grunted and adjusted in his seat again.
For a moment there was nothing but utter silence as the two sat in the cramped cabin. Sara knew that Damien was not enjoying himself. That was plain enough to tell even when he sat behind her, out of her line of sight. The sub was barely large enough for two. Its dull unpainted metallic inside was nothing pleasing to the eye and the heat was like nothing they were used to. But Sara did not want to display her own negative opinion of the vessel. She was in charge. It was best to hide her discomfort in front of her co-pilot.
A captain must appear in control, she thought to herself.
Sweat dripped down from her hands onto the black yoke of the sub. It was beginning to get slippery. Sara reached down into the pocket of her clean white Navy jacket and took out her pleather gloves. Although they would only make her hands warmer, she hoped they would help with the sweat.
A captain needs a firm grip, she reminded herself as she slipped them on.
Damien watched with confused eyes.
“Damn Sara, it’s got to be a million degrees in here. Hands cold?”
“No, not cold,” she replied. “Just wet.” Her eyes quickly glanced to the altimeter above the yoke. “Watch our ascent. Let’s make sure we’re not rising too quickly.”
“We’re fine, Sara. We’d feel it if we weren’t,” he responded.
Sara knew he was right but she felt uneasy anyway. Although she had gone out on patrol runs dozens of times, this was a new sub with a new co-pilot and a new mission. It would not hurt to be a bit overly cautious; especially since this was the highest anyone from the Atlantic had traveled since the Descent. Soon they would be entering new territory, a new height unvisited for years.
“How close are we to the line, Damien?” she asked. “I can’t remember the depth.”
“Previously the line was set at 300 meters.”
Sara glanced at the altimeter. The analog indicator bounced around 341 meters. They were almost there.
“Hard to believe how fast we got here,” Damien said. “You’d thin
k people would go up here more often.”
“It’s not safe,” Sara responded. “The change in pressure makes it difficult for most vehicles to travel this high. It’s hard to make a machine that can travel in deep ocean, medium ocean and shallow ocean all at once.”
“Pssh,” Damien said as he shrugged. He adjusted in his seat once again. “They all used to do it once. How do you think we got down here?”
Damien was starting to get sassy. Sara was not fond of this kind of attitude but she was relieved to know that they were almost done. She knew she could not take his brashness for long. At least he’s been good until now.
“We had more resources in those days. Plus we were desperate. It’s amazing what people can engineer when necessity calls.”
Sara glanced towards the window once again, hoping to see a glimmer of light. But she still saw only darkness. If it weren’t for the dim lighting of the hull, she knew she would see nothing more than her own reflection.
The captain imagined how she must have looked. She was covered in sweat and stuffed into a warm white jacket, a size too small for her already small body. Clothing sizes ran small for everybody in the Navy. She assumed they did that on purpose to promote fitness. If you gain any weight, you won’t even fit in your clothes. That must’ve been the Navy’s thinking, she thought.
“It’s getting warmer,” Damien said.
Sara knew he was right. She could feel it too.
“Do you mind if I unzip this damn jacket?” he asked.
Sara turned in her chair and looked back at her co-pilot, studying him to make sure he was not bluffing. He was a young man, probably about four or five years younger than her, though she could not be sure. He had already removed his cap and placed it on the foam armrest of the chair. His tightly trimmed blond hair was dripping with sweat and his cool eyes stood out in contrast to his bright pink face.
“Permission granted,” she said, trying to maintain her professionalism. She turned forward again, facing the wall of darkness before her. “Your face is flushed. You’re getting hot.”