The Kip Keene Box Set
Books 1, 2 & 3
Nicholas Erik
Watchfire Press
Copyright © 2015 Nicholas Erik. All rights reserved.
Published by Watchfire Press.
This book is a work of fiction. Similarities to actual events, places, persons or other entities are coincidental.
Watchfire Press
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Morristown, NJ 07963
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The Kip Keene Box Set: Books 1, 2 & 3/Nicholas Erik. – 1st ed.
Novels By Nicholas Erik
The Rapture
The Last Dreamer
Vanishing Midnight
Island Daze: The Complete Series
The Singularity Conspiracy Trilogy
Shadow Memories (Book 1)
Shadow Space (Book 2)
Shadow Sunset (Book 3)
The Singularity Conspiracy Omnibus (Books 1, 2 & 3)
KIP KEENE ADVENTURES
The Emerald Elephant (Book 1)
The Ruby Rattlesnake (Book 2)
The Silver Songbird (Book 3)
The Diamond Dragon (Book 4)
The Jade Jaguar (Book 5)
The Golden Gazelle (Book 6)
The Kip Keene Box Set: Books 1, 2 & 3
The Kip Keene Box Set: Books 4, 5 & 6
Remnants of the Fall
Ashes (Book 1)
Ruins (Book 2)
Remnants (Book 3)
Remnants of the Fall Omnibus: The Complete Trilogy
For updates & discounts on upcoming titles, please sign-up for the free newsletter at nicholaserik.com/news.
Table of Contents
The Kip Keene Box Set
Book 1 - The Emerald Elephant
1 | Deep Freeze
2 | A Chance Encounter
3 | Strike
4 | Maps
5 | Thieves
6 | Wake Up
7 | Seven Days
8 | It’s Where the Heart Is
9 | Old Friends
10 | Fate
11 | Franz’s Tale
12 | A Trip Up the Mountain
13 | Johnny
14 | Source Code
15 | One Day or Another
16 | Impatience
17 | A Different View
18 | City on the Hill
19 | Echoes of the Past
20 | Guardian Angel
21 | Prison
22 | Gauntlet
23 | Burned
24 | Escape
25 | No Way Home
Book 2 - The Ruby Rattlesnake
1 | Ruby Rattlesnakes
2 | Seeing Red
3 | Blood Trail
4 | Subject 8
5 | Visitors
6 | In Case of Emergency
7 | Escape
8 | Incentives
9 | Two Hours
10 | Crossroads
11 | Hacked
12 | Leading Questions
13 | Leverage
14 | A New Plan
15 | Under the Sea
16 | Knock
17 | Barcelona
18 | Last Stand
19 | Precinct 21B
20 | Watery Grave
21 | Problems and Solutions
22 | Yachts
23 | Atlantis Rising
24 | Preparations
25 | The Machine
26 | Old Friends
27 | All Good Things
28 | Never Enough
29 | Power Down
30 | Strike Back
31 | Venom
32 | Return
33 | Home
34 | Cure
Book 3 - The Silver Songbird
1 | Interruption
2 | Hiatus
3 | Bail Out
4 | The Coast
5 | The Wheels of Fate
6 | Timekeeper
7 | The Timekeeper’s Log
8 | The Chase
9 | In the Machine
10 | High Seas
11 | Run Aground
12 | Strangers in a Strange Land
13 | Regroup
14 | The Art of War
15 | Awaken
16 | Guangzhou
17 | Den of Thieves
18 | Interruption
19 | Prison
20 | Barroom Brawl
21 | Left Out
22 | Ching Shih
23 | Walk the Plank
24 | Underwater
25 | Blood
26 | No Place to Go
27 | Everywhere
28 | Going Home
29 | Ching Shih’s Mansion
30 | Ghost Ships
31 | A Strange Voyage
32 | Hasty Escape
33 | Final Showdown
34 | Rising Tide
35 | The Chronological Council
36 | The Use of Water
37 | Home
Bonus Novella - The Amber Alligator
1 | The Safe
2 | A Favor
3 | Down the Rabbit Hole
4 | Florida
5 | The Docks
6 | Truth
7 | Replenish
8 | Insubordination
Book 1 - The Emerald Elephant
1 | Deep Freeze
“Everything that has been will be again, Mr. Keene.”
The message, uttered by a mysterious female voice, played over and over, corrupted by skips and static. Its final seconds devolved into an unintelligible burst of white noise.
Kip Keene’s eyes flickered open, crystals of ice falling from his lashes. As his surroundings came into focus, his gaze fell upon the high impact glass in front of him. Before he could make sense of the strange message repeating over the capsule’s speakers, he was overwhelmed by a violent shiver that racked his entire body.
Keene coughed, blinking tears from his eyes as his vision blurred. He scraped his fingers against the dirty glass, revealing a sliver of a white trail outside his craft. Keene couldn’t recall what the hell he was doing out here in the mountains, but that concern was soon replaced by the blare of the capsule’s warning siren.
“Caution,” the voice said, “please exit craft. Critical system failures detected.”
Keene tried to lift his feet up to punch out the capsule’s glass, but found they were strapped to the floor.
Someone had bolted him in before they launched the emergency cryopod.
He yanked the metal clasps off and slipped his feet out from their shackles. Banging them against the glass, however, proved to be less than fruitful. Upon his third kick, Keene was greeted with an electric shock that sent him crashing back into the other side of the tight capsule.
It would have sent him to the floor, if there’d been enough space for him to even sit down. In his current confines, however, the shock had just rocketed him against the wall, leaving his ribs howling in pain.
“Organic impact detected,” the craft’s voice said, “emergency defense systems engaged.”
“That’s me, you son of a bitch,” Keene said, but his protests went unnoticed. Everything in the pod was pre
programmed to optimize his probabilities of survival in the event of an ejection from The Blue Maybelle. Dense clear nano-carbonite for the capsule’s windshield that was almost impenetrable. Multiple layers of intruder defense mechanisms, should the craft land on a hostile planet and meet with unruly natives. Auto-vaccinators to deal with exotic local bacteria and viruses.
But now those well-calibrated systems seemed to be working against him. The antivirals spritzed down from the ceiling in a misty haze, sending Keene into a coughing fit. Keene brought his bare arm to his mouth and hacked, his body convulsing. The taste of smoke, black and acrid, hung on his dry tongue.
The tight confines were making him aware of a certain claustrophobia that, to this point, he had never known was a concern. Keene banged his elbows against the back wall of the capsule, careful to avoid the windshield, lest he be shocked once more.
“Shit,” he said, to no one at all. He shut his eyes and tried to remember how he came to be stranded in his vessel’s emergency capsule. Instead, all he could focus on was the splish-splash of sweat dripping from his long black hair, across his forehead, down to the floor.
Each drop sounded like he was standing next to a nano-fusion engine at take-off.
Drip, drop, drip, drop.
“Please activate the emergency lever located above your person,” the voice said.
He reached an ash-stained hand towards the capsule’s emergency lever, but the red handle was mangled, rendered inoperable by the small craft’s impact.
Keene yanked his hand back and yelled, shaking his fingers, which had blistered from the handle’s heat.
The sound of dripping sweat faded from Keene’s ears, but he couldn’t consider that a good thing. It was replaced by the distinct crackle of advancing flame—no doubt the reason the craft was so eager for him to exit. Nasty plumes of smoke swirled within the tight space. Soon the capsule would be filled, and Keene would die out here, alone, without answers.
He bit into his lip so deep that it drew blood, reaching for the emergency lever again. It rocked, but refused to move more than a few inches. His efforts were enough to crack the hatch above just a hair, buying him a few more precious seconds.
The smoke hissed as it rushed to escape its confines. The pain too much to handle, Keene released his grip, leaving a thin layer of skin behind on the scalding steel. Beneath his feet, the fire was beginning to pick up intensity.
He was going to be burned either way.
Keene hacked, his eyes bleary with tears, and tried the handle one last time, leaping from the ground so that all his weight hung from the ruined lever. It shook and heaved, fighting against him, but then the handle gave way, sending Keene crashing off the charged glass, feeling another shock course through his spine as a splash of frosty sunlight rained in from the hatch above.
Keene peeled himself from the back wall and vaulted out of the open hatch. He scrambled away from the ruined capsule on all fours, falling over himself in the powder. The mountain shook for a moment as the capsule’s fusion core—no greater than the size of a grain of rice—ignited, sending a plume of orange flame into the sky.
Keene collapsed into the powder face first and shivered, clutching his burned hand tight against his bare chest. His hot breath melted the white substance into little streams. Keene reached his tongue out to grab a taste.
Snow.
When the liquid touched his tongue, he suddenly became aware that his mouth was dry, his lips chapped. He lapped at the snow until his mouth was frozen and he could no longer feel his face. Then he rolled over and collapsed into the frozen turf, trying to remember what happened.
Which was when he became aware of another strange fact, away from the burning heat of the capsule: he was naked, out here in the snowy wilds. He dug his hands through the chilly powder beneath his head, feeling for a bump or gash. His head was smooth, other than the clumps of frost clinging to his hair.
A herd of animals clomped in the distance, causing Keene to leap to his feet. The strange tan animals bayed at his presence, then continued out along the trail. Behind them, a small boy held a staff, pushing them forward.
He gave Keene a smile before disappearing over the ridge.
Keene stumbled forward to follow, knowing nothing else to do. On the top of the ridge, he paused to look back at his charred transport. A single-use cryopod, its exterior scarred by the elements and recent explosion. The distant horizon stretched seamlessly into a green, heavily forested valley far below.
Without answers, and the thin mountain air whipping against his bare skin, Keene hurried to catch up with the boy.
Keene kept a safe distance behind the child, unsure whether this planet was friendly to outlaws such as himself. Many folks were supportive of his antics, but there were more than a few Coalition strongholds in the black expanses of space that would string him up and torture him for his many sins.
The boy didn’t let on that he was being followed, never turning around, but his cool demeanor suggested that he understood someone was behind him. That the boy didn’t run off to raise an alarm, or let loose a shrill whistle, was a small comfort to Keene, and he continued his pursuit for the better part of the morning, all the way down and up the mountain.
Whereas the animals and the child traversed the undulating, rocky terrain with agile ease, Keene found himself out of breath, spurred onwards only by the desperation of a man terrified to be left alone in the wild. The climate, while frigid, was more hospitable than any of the snow-covered planets Keene had ever had the misfortune of visiting, and the pace ensured that he had little time to think of his nakedness. The thickness of the icy frost covering the ground varied, sometimes thick and crunchy, other times so thin that Keene could feel pebbles and frozen blades of grass beneath his toes.
Eventually, at some time after noon, the boy turned around and smiled once more at Keene. Then the child brought up his staff and beckoned for Keene to come closer.
Some minutes later, after wobbling across the quarter mile or so of trail that separated them, Keene collapsed on one knee in front of the boy and the animals.
“Lost?” The boy cocked his head to the side to look up at the strange man.
Whatever the word was, Keene didn’t understand.
“Where am I?” He replied in his own strange language, pointing across the horizon to convey his question. “What is this place?”
No light of recognition came to the boy’s eyes. The two would not be doing much talking. That was fine by Keene, as he was too exhausted to do much more of anything.
The boy reached into a small leather satchel dangling from his chest, the strap so long that the pouch hung almost at his knees. He handed Keene a crust of hard bread, and a skin filled with water. Keene bit down with his front teeth, immediately regretting his boldness. The bread, frozen by the elements and perhaps time, threatened to break his teeth in two.
A quick swig of water, however, found the bread melting within his mouth, unleashing an explosion of flavor and exquisite sensations he had never experienced before. His gaze shot back to the boy, who flashed a knowing smile.
Then the child walked over to one of the cargo animals and removed a large coat, knitted from thick fur. He held it out for Keene to take, which the visitor did without question. Upon putting it on, Keene realized just how damn cold he’d been. The boy also handed him a pair of boots, which were snug and comfortable enough that it felt almost as if they had been fitted to his own feet.
“I have nothing to give you,” Keene said, but the boy just smiled and nodded.
Keene took in short, halting breaths, staring at his new companion. A dark, rich complexion, eyes dark as obsidian shining with tremendous curiosity and spirit. And these bizarre animals, looking as though they were made almost completely of fur and hair.
The boy took Keene’s hand in his own and brought it to the brow of one of the cr
eatures. Keene’s fingers snaked through the tufts and burrs, beneath which was a sturdy softness that he now understood made for a great coat or pair of boots.
The animal coughed and snorted, spit flying from its upturned lips, and Keene’s hand flew away. The boy smiled and pointed on the horizon to indicate this was the direction he was heading. Yet, after the small finger dropped back to his side, the boy continued down the well-beaten trail that he had been following for much of the day, away from where he had gestured to go.
Keene began to follow, but some strange notion told him that whatever he sought lay in the direction in which the child had pointed. The boy and the animals disappeared from view as Keene travelled across rocks and snow drifts, where no trail existed at all.
From a vantage point where he could see much of the trail, Keene scanned the area for some sign of the shepherd. Perhaps it was the altitude and distance, but he couldn’t even make out a semblance of tracks in the crisp, untouched snow other than his own.
2 | A Chance Encounter
High in the Andes Mountains, Franz Chibuco trod over the cool dirt as he approached the snow-capped peaks at dusk.
A great problem of time and space was bothering him, and a trek up the mountain always proved to be a tonic for his deepest philosophical and scientific questions. Today, however, an answer was not forthcoming, and so Franz walked further and further up the slope, towards the shimmering white terrain. Hints of frost were present in the red dirt that crunched beneath his heavy boots. But the ice was still far enough away to be almost a dream, a mirage.
The dichotomy always played tricks on his mind—how suddenly this strange section of Earth segued from jungle into snow-dappled volcano.
Despite his advancing age and silver hair, Franz was unfazed by the thin mountain air that often felled men half his age. Indeed, he had reached the summit of Cotopaxi quite a few times in his younger days, when he had first arrived in Ecuador in his thirties. His current studies and experiments afforded him certain luxuries of time he had only enjoyed in his youth.
Perhaps five hundred yards ahead, Franz caught sight of a foreign glimmer, too bright to be of nature’s making. It was now summer, and despite the still biting wind and frigid nights, the usually foot-thick frost at this altitude had receded due to an exceptionally mild winter.
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