Maxon paused for dramatic effect. The auditorium was quiet. Everyone knew this was the moment.
“Do you accept?” Maxon asked.
Darracott focused on the front row and found Karl Gideon’s smiling face. He had told her that whatever she did, wherever she went, he would be by her side until the end. As the entire starhold waited for her answer, Gideon smiled and made a subtle fist-pumping gesture of support. Gods, I love that man…
But it was all bigger than Karl Gideon and their love for each other. This was about the destinies of millions of people. Channa Maxon wanted a war to unite humanity behind Sarissa, and it will all be done in her name—in the name of Empress Renata. How many years would it take? How many lives would be lost? She couldn’t just fade into the background and wallow in self-pity. From her position, she could be a voice of reason. Her starhold really was calling her, and she had to answer…
“I accept.”
The hall erupted, the crowd rising to its feet in applause and cheers. From outside, there was a roar from the thousands gathered in front of the Home Ministry building, watching the spectacle on large viewscreens and holo-projectors set up for the occasion. Karl Gideon had abandoned the subtle fist-pump and stood with both arms raised in the air. Even Bennett Boyer let a small smile break across his face.
Channa Maxon once again asked the crowd for silence. Turning to Darracott, she held out a ring, holding it high for all to see. “This ring was worn by the first governor of our beloved homeworld, the Honorable Sarah Koenig. It is called the Sarissan Sun, as it holds our starhold’s insignia within its design. This ring has been designated as a symbol of sovereignty, and I now place it upon your hand.”
Maxon knelt before her as Darracott extended her left hand. After sliding the ring on her finger, the Fleet Admiral rose and kissed the Empress on the cheek. “Wear this ring in health and happiness,” Maxon said quietly, for Darracott’s ears only. “And always remember who gave it to you.”
As she withdrew with a crooked smile on her face, Channa Maxon turned to the assembled throng and shouted, “All Hail Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Renata—Defender of the Realm, Keeper of the Sun, Archon of the Empire!”
As she waved to the crowd, two words repeated in Darracott’s mind.
I accept… I… accept. I accept that I shape my own destiny. I accept responsibility for my people. And most of all, I accept that whatever the cost, Channa Maxon must be stopped…
Epilouge
Thirteen months later
Year 2571
Zevkov City
Planet Beta Corvi 3
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Thomas Hoyt in an incensed voice. “How many this time?”
“Twenty-three.”
“Twenty-three idiots, blundering around out there in the wilderness. Gods, they’ll all be dead within a week.”
Dion Garreau looked at his boss and shrugged. “Hey, look on the bright side—”
“There is NO bright side!” bellowed Hoyt. He knew exactly what Garreau was going to say, that there would be more food left for the rest of them.
“Maybe we could risk sending up another shuttle,” ventured Garreau in a hopeful voice.
“To do what?” asked the leader of the settlement. “Disappear like the rest of them? And who is going to pilot?”
“Hell, I will,” grumbled Garreau. “Whatever’s happening up there, it can’t be much worse than being down here.”
Welcome to Beta Corvi 3. It was supposed to be a paradise but it turned out to be a death trap. Disease, extreme weather, aggressive wildlife—hell, even the plants seemed hostile. It was as if everything on this world had been put here for one purpose and one purpose only—to kill human beings. How could a planetary survey have gone so wrong? Tom Hoyt had gone over it in his mind again and again but he would probably never know the answer.
From the moment the ships of Project Arrow arrived in the Beta Corvi system, it was a slowly unfolding disaster. On the arkship Daedalus, nearly half of the hypersleep chambers had malfunctioned. Two thousand excited, hopeful people had gone to sleep six months earlier never to awaken. Among the deaths were key people: scientists, engineers, agricultural experts, and Roman Zevkov himself. The man with a dream of creating a new world would never set eyes on that planet, nor would he ever see the human catastrophe his colonization efforts would produce.
The hypersleep tragedy was just the beginning. There was a malfunction of the navigation computers on one of the principal supply vessels. When it translated from hyperspace, the ship materialized inside Beta Corvi—not the system, the star itself. Supplies arrived from other ships in the colony fleet but many had no value on Beta Corvi 3. Helicraft had trouble flying in the planet’s odd gravity fields. Many electronic components were found to be incompatible with each other. Disease swept through the camps because certain medicines had been left behind. Most disastrous of all, the plants and seeds the colonists had brought with them would not grow in this world’s peculiar soil.
As the main settlement struggled, dissention grew. Groups of people began leaving Zevkov City, striking out on their own, marching into the wilderness to establish their own towns only to be swallowed up by this hostile world and never heard from again. After just four months, only nine hundred of the original eight thousand colonists remained, and every day a few more died or tried to go it on their own, like the twenty-three who left the settlement last night.
With Zevkov dead, Thomas Hoyt had taken charge of the expedition. As Hoyt spoke with his assistant just outside the administration quarters, he looked around at the settlement and silently cursed the Many Gods—for not helping his people, for Roman Zevkov’s death, for creating this accursed world.
“Why not risk another shuttle?” insisted Garreau. “They’re not doing us any good on the ground.” If things planetside weren’t desperate enough, something was wrong in space as well. Only nine shuttles remained of the dozens the settlers had brought with them. Each time a shuttle went skyward, it failed to return. Communications had fallen silent with the expedition ships and satellites above the planet. Here they were a hundred light-years farther than any humans had ever journeyed, and not only were they stranded on this deadly world but deaf and blind to boot.
“Dion, we’ve been over this.” They were about to have the same discussion he and Garreau had had yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that.
“Mr. Hoyt! Mr. Hoyt!” A middle-aged woman ran up to him, two young boys in tow.
The administrator turned to her, his frustrations mounting. “Really, Ms. Simmons, this is not the time. I told you yesterday someone would be round to fix your roof, and—”
“It’s not my roof,” said the gasping woman, fighting to catch her breath. “It’s the boys. They were outside the perimeter.”
Hoyt rolled his eyes and turned to the youngsters. “Guys, why would you do that? It’s dangerous out there!”
“But, Mr. Hoyt,” started one of the boys.
“I don’t want to hear any excuses.”
“But, Mr. Hoyt! We saw a ship!”
The adults looked at each other. Hoyt opened his mouth to say something, but Ms. Simmons cut him off. “I admit, the boys are rambunctious and given to breaking the rules, but one thing they are not, Mr. Hoyt—they are not liars. If Marc and Joey say they saw a ship, there was a ship. That’s why I brought them to you.”
“Was it in the air?” asked Garreau.
“It was but it landed,” said little Joey.
Hoyt knelt to be eye to eye with the boys. “Where? Where did this ship land?”
Joey started to speak up but older brother Marc cut him off. “I’ll tell them,” he snapped at his brother, putting him in his place. “We were playing over by Steeple Rocks.”
“Over near the stibnite crystals,” said Garreau. “Boys, that’s a very dangerous place.”
“We weren’t on the rocks, just next to them,” said Marc defensively. “When we went up on the
hill, we saw this ship in the valley below.”
“Marc, can you take us there?” asked Hoyt.
“Sure,” the boy said, his younger brother already registering a protest in anticipation of being left behind.
Hoyt turned to Garreau. “Grab a constable and let’s go have a look.”
* * * *
Young Marc and his three adult escorts concealed themselves behind a group of large rocks as they peered into the valley below. The unknown craft rested about eight-hundred meters in front of them. It looked like an oversized reddish seashell, with concentric ridges running over the top surface of the vehicle.
“Must be a shuttlecraft,” Hoyt said.
Garreau was skeptical. “A little too big for that. Besides, it doesn’t look like any shuttle I’ve ever seen.”
“I’ll bet it’s a Jangsu scout,” put it the constable. “They’re probably here scouting out the planet.”
“They can have it,” said Garreau.
“The question is, do we try to make contact,” said Hoyt. “It’s odd that these guys can breeze right in and land, when everything we’ve sent up for the last month has disappeared.”
“Maybe our ships are disappearing because of these bastards,” said the constable. Garreau looked annoyed and bobbed his head toward ten-year-old Marc. “I guarantee he’s heard worse,” the constable grunted. “I know his mom.”
Thomas Hoyt stood up.
“Tom, what the hell are you doing—they’ll see you,” said Garreau.
“It doesn’t matter. Let’s see what these people have to say. Face it men, we’re in trouble and it can’t get much worse.”
“It can always get worse,” moaned Garreau as he stood too. “Constable, make sure the boy gets back to the settlement.”
Hoyt and Garreau started to walk toward the mysterious ship, getting about ten meters before they froze in their steps. A hatchway on the vessel opened and a ramp extended toward the ground. Two forms disembarked from the ship and made their way down the ramp.
They were tall, unusual figures… alien figures.
Coming Fall, 2016
Keeper of the Sun
Book Three of the Starhold series
For more information
go to www.jalanfield.net
For Your Consideration
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About the Author
J. Alan Field grew up in the 1960s, immersing himself in classic television shows such as the original Star Trek, The Wild, Wild West, The Avengers, and The Man from UNCLE, he developed a lifelong passion for imaginative story telling. Among his favorite authors and books are Dan Simmons and his Hyperion Cantos, David Brin’s Uplift Series, Melanie Rawn’s Dragon Prince/Star novels, David Weber, and George R.R. Martin. In the late-1990s, Field was introduced to the exceptional world of anime and became an enthusiastic “otaku.” Some of his favorite works include Ghost in the Shell, Shojo Kakumei Utena, and the Macross universe.
Science fiction has always held a special fascination for Field, as it is a window onto not only the future but also the present. In examining the possibilities of what we can be, we must first and foremost examine ourselves. Before writing, Field spent thirty-four years as a history teacher, mostly at Morgantown High School in the city of Morgantown, West Virginia, where he still resides. He is very grateful to all of his friends who have supported his writing and hopes to make them proud.
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