What Tomorrow May Bring

by Tony Bertauski

  My shoulders sagged. “Better? I’m not so sure. What about the jackers in the camp? Do you know what happened to them?”

  “No.” His face turned hard. “I tried to find out more before I quit, but the Fed’s aren’t owning up to the camp. They must be holding the changelings somewhere new. And if they released them, it would be admitting that they held them in the first place.” He took my hands in his. “You did everything you could, Kira, and I’m proud of you.”

  His words brought a queasiness to my stomach. “I didn’t do everything I could, Dad,” I whispered. His hands still held mine, but I had a hard time meeting his questioning look. “When I escaped…” I stopped. Spilling this secret would make him a lot less proud of me. I sucked in a breath. “When I escaped, I could have let them go. All of them. Everyone in the camp. But I didn’t.”

  My dad’s face clouded and water started to pool in my eyes. “So, you see,” I said, “it’s my fault they’re trapped…”

  “Kira.” My dad wrapped his arms around me and I wilted into him. “It’s not your fault. It’s Kestrel’s fault.” He pulled back to look into my eyes. “He put them there, not you. And… and I did too.”

  I blinked. “What? But I thought…”

  “I didn’t have anything to do with sending changelings there,” he said quickly. “But there were some bad guys I helped catch. They were jackers and they were dangerous. There was no other place to send them. So I know there were a lot of monsters in there, Kira. That’s why I was so desperate to get you out.” He dropped his voice. “Sometime, you’re going to have to tell me exactly how you did that.”

  I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding.

  “I’m just glad you finally came home,” he said.

  I swallowed. “Right. Um, about that. I’m not sure I should stay.”

  My dad’s face had the same disbelief as my mom. “Kira, it’s safe now. The agents are gone,” he said, gesturing out the broken window, “and the Feds can’t come after you any more, not when you’re the face of their scandal.”

  How I wished that were true. “It’s not that simple, Dad.”

  His shoulders sagged. He rubbed his chin like he did when he was puzzling something out. Of course, he wouldn’t remember the conversation we had about how I was Kestrel’s genetic link. And he couldn’t know Kestrel woke up with three darts in his chest and me to blame for it. But my dad was right—I was the face of the hidden jackers. Kestrel could make me disappear and have it look like backlash from the hate groups. And if Molloy found me first, well, it probably would be a hate crime.

  “If you’re in some kind of trouble, sis,” Seamus said quietly from his spot next to Xander, “we’ll help you get out of it.”

  I really didn’t want to cry again.

  “What Seamus is saying,” said my dad, “is that family sticks together.”

  I put on a bright smile to ward off the tears and stepped over to put my arm around Xander. “Which is exactly why I brought Xander here. If it’s okay with you, maybe he can stay here a while? He can have my room, if he can tolerate the pink bed.”

  “Xander’s welcome to stay here as long as he wants,” he said. “But this is your home. It’s where you belong.”

  I strode over and threw my arms around him. “I know, Dad.” Then I had to stop because my throat was closing up. I linked my thoughts to him. I’m afraid Kestrel won’t stop looking for me. And there are some other bad guys you should know about.

  “Let me help you, Kira.” I could feel his shoulders tense as he held me tighter. “Bad guys are something I know a little about. And I’m not going to let anyone hurt you anymore.”

  My tears burned my eyes. I wished my dad could help me, more than anything. I ached to stay here, in my house, with my family, and believe that everything would work out okay. That Kestrel would forget about me. That Molloy would stay in prison forever. I didn’t know if staying was a good idea, but in that moment, I couldn’t force myself to leave.

  I took a shaky breath. “Okay.”

  My dad’s smile was almost as strong as the hug he wrapped around me, and I could hardly breathe when Seamus and my mom piled on. Their thoughts rang with happiness.

  I just prayed my family wouldn’t pay the price for my wishful thinking.

  ~*~

  Later that afternoon, Raf came by.

  I knew he was coming before he reached the door, before my mom or anyone else in all the quiet levels of the house had any idea. All day, I had been keeping a nervous watch, periodically scanning down the street, and even around the corner, to the limits of my reach. Just checking. Making sure that no one was coming.

  I linked in to Raf’s thoughts before he reached our house. I heard the jumble in his mind as he tried to decide what to say to me. How he was worried about the hate groups and how strange it had been seeing me on the tru-casts, telling the world secrets I had only just told him. How he was a little afraid he wouldn’t have the right words when he saw me.

  He rapped softly on the front door.

  Hi, Mrs. Moore. Is Kira home?

  She’s upstairs, Rafael.

  Raf’s soft footfalls padded up the stairs. Partway up, I pulled out of his head, not wanting him to know I had linked in without asking. I busied myself with rearranging the few items left on my shelves, my hands shaking more than they should just for Raf.

  He appeared in my doorway, a hand on each side of the frame. “Hi.”

  I swallowed. “Hi.”

  Raf gazed past me to the near-bare shelf. “You know,” he said, “I could swear I won more of those for you.”

  I picked up the green monster that he had won for me over the summer, what felt like a zillion years ago. “You did.” I examined the creature for a moment and put it back on the shelf.

  He stared at me from across the room. “Where did they go? Did you not want them anymore?”

  I gaped. I had thrown them away in a fit of fury of wanting to be grown up. Tough. Not pitied by the world. Now I would give anything to have them back. “I, um…”

  He sauntered into the room, flashing his brilliant smile. “Relax, Kira. I’m kidding.”

  “Right.” I tried to regain my composure. “I knew that.”

  He reached out and touched my hair, like Simon used to. My heart squeezed, not wanting that thought right here, right now.

  “Maybe if you do your jacking trick,” Raf said softly, “you’ll know better what I’m thinking.”

  I looked into his dark brown eyes, wanting to know if he was thinking the same thing I was. That I wished I had been honest with him from the beginning. That I hoped he would still want to be with me, now that the entire world knew what I was and what I could do. I linked gently inside, and immediately the scent of his mind filled me. Soft linen and sunshine-warmed air.

  I like the way your hair feels when I touch it, he thought. I swallowed as he leaned closer. I wonder if I try to kiss you if you’ll knock me out again.

  It depends. How good a kisser are you? My heart thudded erratically.

  Maybe you can let me know. He pressed his lips to mine. They were soft like a summer’s breeze, and his kiss reached down to my toes.

  Seamus once told me that when readers touched, they shared feelings as if they were joined into one person. He said it was a very intimate experience. I would never be like the normal readers of the world.

  But, for the first time, I knew exactly what he meant.

  Kira’s journey is just beginning. While she may think she’s safe at home, at last, the consequences of her actions will be nothing short of revolutionary in the mindreading world. You can pick up Closed Hearts next (available in ebook and print) or you can save by getting the entire Mindjack Trilogy at once.

  Closed Hearts (Mindjack #2)

  When you control minds, only your heart can be used against you.

  Eight months ago, Kira Moore revealed to the mindreading world that mindjackers like herself were hidden in their midst. Now sh
e wonders if telling the truth was the right choice after all. As wild rumors spread, a powerful anti-jacker politician capitalizes on mindreaders’ fears and strips jackers of their rights. While some jackers flee to Jackertown—a slum rife with jackworkers who trade mind control favors for cash—Kira and her family hide from the readers who fear her and jackers who hate her. But when a jacker Clan member makes Kira’s boyfriend Raf collapse in her arms, Kira is forced to save the people she loves by facing the thing she fears most: FBI agent Kestrel and his experimental torture chamber for jackers.

  watch the live-action trailer

  Susan writes speculative fiction all up and down the age spectrum (middle grade, adult future-noir, steampunk romance). She’s always dreaming up something new, so subscribe to her mailing list to be the first to know what’s up! (Oh, and new subscribers get a free short story, too!) Find all of Susan’s works here.

  Susan Kaye Quinn is the author of the bestselling Mindjack Trilogy, which is young adult science fiction. Her latest release is a steampunk romance Third Daughter (The Dharian Affairs #1) which is her excuse to dress up in corsets and fight with swords. She also has a dark-and-gritty SF serial called The Debt Collector and a middle grade fantasy called Faery Swap. It’s possible she’s easily distracted. Her business card says, “Author and Rocket Scientist,” and she always has more speculative fiction fun in the works. You can find out what she’s up to by subscribing to her newsletter (hint: new subscribers get a free short story!) or by stopping by her blog (www.susankayequinn.com).

  Acknowledgements

  Many people, besides the author, are needed to create a novel, and Open Minds is no exception.

  The gorgeous cover, which makes me giddy every time I look at it, is due to the artistry of D. Robert Pease. Multiple thanks go to Anne of Victory Editing for catching my typos, fixing my slang, and correcting my hideous comma abuse. Any mistakes that remain are due to things I messed up after she fixed it.

  Many talented writers critiqued Open Minds and lent their considerable skills to making the story better. Much appreciation goes to my SCBWI writer’s group for their enthusiastic support, which is an essential nutrient for any writer’s soul. Thanks go to Andi Phillips, Bethany Kaczmarek, Erynn Newman, and Charity Tinnin, for reading chapter after chapter and steering me where I (and the manuscript) needed to go. Thank you to Sherrie Petersen, for feedback on kisses, technology, and endings. And for reading it again. And especially for loving it. Thank you to Stina Lindenblatt for liking Raf even more than Kira does and for being honest about what needed to be changed. Double thanks are due to Rebecca Carlson, fellow science fiction traveler, for reading two completely separate drafts and for the amazing, detailed feedback that always shines up my words. A breezy aye to Adam Heine for slang tutorials and pointing out just where I cheated. A huge thank-you to Terry Lynn Johnson for reading it, loving it, and that other part, even though it didn’t work out. A bucket of gratitude to Michelle Davidson Argyle for her enthusiasm and honesty, the two things I like about her most. And extra special thanks go to Kate Monson and Brandi Pease for being my teen beta readers.

  And finally, apologies to my husband and three boys for all the time I spent on the computer, when you probably wished you had socks that matched and something other than macaroni and cheese for dinner. Especially since I’m going to do it again for the next book. Thanks for putting up with me!

  About the Author

  Susan Kaye Quinn grew up in California, where she wrote snippets of stories and passed them to her friends during class. Her teachers pretended not to notice and only confiscated her notes a couple times. She pursued a bunch of engineering degrees (Aerospace, Mechanical, and Environmental) and worked a lot of geeky jobs, including turns at GE Aircraft Engines, NASA, and NCAR. Now that she writes novels, her business card says “Author and Rocket Scientist” and she doesn’t have to sneak her notes anymore.

  Which is too bad.

  All that engineering comes in handy when dreaming up paranormal powers in future worlds or mixing science with fantasy to conjure slightly plausible inventions. For her stories, of course. Just ignore that stuff in her basement.

  Susan writes from the Chicago suburbs with her three boys, two cats, and one husband. Which, it turns out, is exactly as much as she can handle.

  I love to hear from readers! Like my Facebook Page, follow me on Twitter, or visit my author blog. Subscribe to my newsletter to be the first to hear about giveaways and new releases.

  * * *

  THE MOON DWELLERS, David Estes

  Dystopia, by David Estes

  I love dystopian novels. And I don’t just mean The Hunger Games, although I love that one, too. I’ve read dozens of dystopian novels and I never seem to get tired of them. For me, dystopian novels capture so much of what makes reading awesome. They explore real social issues and imaginative futures that may be only decades, or even years, from coming to pass. They are dark and suspenseful and funny and interesting, and, most of the time, scary.

  But what I love the most is that they almost always contain an element of hope. The characters, who are many times thrust into terrible situations, endure and persevere and usually accomplish what they set out to do, against challenging odds. Hope.

  Do I think any of the themes in dystopian novels will actually come to pass? Absolutely. Hopefully not in my lifetime, or my children’s lifetimes, but bad things will happen and new heroes will have to rise to the forefront and meet the challenges of their day.

  But for now, I’ll imagine my own futures and the heroes that live them, and do my best to entertain my readers with stories of hope. Starting with my first dystopian novel, The Moon Dwellers. For this series, I’ve created two different societies, one living underground (three books: The Moon Dwellers, The Star Dwellers, The Sun Dwellers), one living aboveground (three books: Fire Country, Ice Country, Water & Storm Country), which then come together in a final epic 7th book, The Earth Dwellers, where the characters and plot lines smash into one story. I hope you enjoy the dystopian world I’ve created!

  THE MOON DWELLERS

  David Estes

  Book One of

  The Dwellers Saga

  Copyright 2012 David Estes

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  For Adele. Just for being you.

  Prologue

  Adele

  7 months ago

  Hands grope, men shout, boots slap the rock floor.

  Clay dishes and pots are smashed to bits as the Enforcers sweep recklessly through our house. There are more bodies in the tiny stone box that I call home than ever before. The walls seem to be closing in.

  My mother’s face is stricken with anger, her lips twisted, her eyebrows dark. I’ve never seen her fight like this. I’ve never seen her fight at all.

  It takes three bulging Enforcers to subdue her kicking legs, her thrashing arms. For just a moment I am scared of her and not the men. I hate myself for it.

  I realize my sister is by my side, watching, like me. I can’t let her see this—can’t let this be her last memory of the ones who raised us. I usher her back into the small room that we share with my parents, and close the door, shutting her inside alone.

  When I turn back to the room, my mother is already gone, taken. Undigested beans from our measly supper rise in my throat.

  My father is next.

  The Enforcers jeer at him, taunt him, spit on him. As he backs his shoulders against the cold, stark, stone wall, five men corner him. Smart. They don’t underestimate him.

  He makes eye contact with me; his emerald-gr
een eyes are hard with concentration. Despite the inherent tension in the room, his face is relaxed, calm, the exact opposite of his eyes. Run, he mouths.

  My feet are frozen to the floor. My knees lock, stiffen, disobey me and my father. I am ashamed. After all that my father has done for me, when it counts the most, I fail him.

  One of the men lifts an arm and a gun. I hold my breath when I hear the shot, a dull thwap! that doesn’t sound like a normal gun. The man moves backwards slightly from the force, but his legs are planted firmly and he maintains his balance.

  Father slumps to the floor. I feel my lips trembling, and my hand moves unbidden to my mouth. My frozen feet melt and I try to run to him, but a big body bars my way. I kick him hard, like my father taught me. My heel catches the Enforcer under his chin and his head snaps back. Like most people, he underestimates me.

  The next Enforcer doesn’t.

  The Taser rips into my neck and tentacles of electricity slam my jaw shut. My teeth nearly snap off my tongue, which is flailing around in my mouth. They don’t take it easy on me just because I’m a kid, or a girl—not after what I did to the first guy. Still stunned by the Taser, I barely feel the thump of their hard boots as they kick me repeatedly in the ribs. My eyes are wet, and through my blurred vision I see the arcing nightstick.

  Strangely, it feels like destiny, like it was always going to happen.

  I hear my sister’s screams just before I black out.

  Tristan

  A brief history of the Tri-Realms

  They say the meteor was enormous. Any life left on the surface of the earth when it hit was wiped out by either the shockwave caused by the collision, or the resulting tsunamis unleashed across the world’s oceans. Humans were forced to move underground. Or so the story goes.

  Secretly, government scientists expected it for years, using covert teams of miners to dig the world’s largest caverns in preparation for the inevitable. But still: There wasn’t room for everyone. It would’ve been terrible: the Lottery. Families ripped apart; friends lost; blossoming relationships cut off at the knees. Of course, key individuals, like politicians, doctors, scientists, and farmers received a free pass, but all others just got a number. The number gave them a one in a hundred chance of getting selected to move into the underground facilities.