by D. W. Vogel
˙
Books and Series Featuring D. W. Vogel
Horizon Arc
Horizon Alpha: Predators of Eden
Horizon Alpha: Transport Seventeen
Horizon Alpha: Homecoming
Horizon Alpha: High Wire
A Short Story
Super Dungeon Series
The King’s Summons
by Adam Glendon Sidwell and Zachary James
The Forgotten King
by D. W. Vogel
The Glauerdoom Moor
by David J. West
The Dungeons of Arcadia
by Dan Allen
The Midnight Queen
by Christopher Keene
Horizon Beta
Future House Publishing
Cover image copyright: Shutterstock.com. Used under license.
Text © 2020 Wendy Vogel
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the written permission of Future House Publishing at [email protected].
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN: 978-1-950020-01-0 (paperback)
Developmental editing by Abbie Robinson
Substantive editing by Emma Hoggan
Copy editing by Stephanie Cullen
Interior design by Amanda LaFrance
This book is for Andrew, who has saved my life twice now.
Contents
Captain’s Personal Journal
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Captain’s Personal Journal
Voyage year 158
I think we’re going to make it.
The Horizon Beta has been trouble since the day she launched. The drive system has failed nineteen times in this journey, and we’ve scavenged every millimeter, stealing from every non-life support system we can to keep her running. Omicron Eridani was a pipe dream. We never would have made it. Everyone on board this ship owes their lives to Captain Crowder’s decision to change course. Epsilon Eridani was light-years closer. Fifty years later, I would have made the same call. We’re nearly there, but even at our current range, we aren’t sure there’s an atmosphere to support us. She may have aimed us at a dead hunk of rock.
But it’s our only chance.
And I think we’ll get there mostly in one piece.
Measuring in Earth years, we are currently about three years away from the planet. Three years until we find out if the five hundred souls entrusted to my care will have a chance at a new life on a new planet, or are doomed to die on a generational colony ship, forever orbiting a lifeless world.
***
Voyage year 161
The stars have guided us to safety.
This will be my last entry as captain of the Horizon Beta. In just a few hours, we will leave what remains of our ship for good. Epsilon Eridani will be the new home of the remnant of humanity that made this journey, generation after generation hoping to one day reach a planet like this.
We entered low orbit this morning and launched the probes. The atmosphere is higher in oxygen than we’re used to, but we will adapt soon enough. There are saltwater oceans, and freshwater streams coming down off rocky mountains. Our away team returned with samples, and our scanners tell us we are biocompatible with much of the plant life, which means there will be food for us to forage safely while we set up our colony and plant our own seeds, brought from the vaults of our lost home world. Our sensors show plenty of insects to pollinate them. We’ll also take down some of the huge vats of algae that have sustained us through this endless journey. Personally, if I never have to eat another meal of blue-green algae, it will be soon enough.
Surely this is a new Eden, a paradise where humanity can thrive.
We have launched all the satellites safely. So as long as our technology survives, we will have access to all the data stored on the Beta’s systems. Everything we need will be at our fingertips, and by the time the equipment we take from the Beta wears out, we should be well on our way to our own industrial society.
Everything has gone according to plan. My ship will be the last to leave. Once everything we need has been ferried down to the planet’s surface, I’ll be the final soul on the Horizon Beta, engaging the autopilot. When I depart, she’ll be empty forever. There will be no reason to return.
She may not last long in orbit, and I worry for our satellites. We had to fly through a thick debris field to get here. The asteroid band is very close to the planet, and without a living pilot to guide her, there’s a good chance that the Beta and our satellites might be destroyed sooner than we like. But we’ll survive without them.
The first of our transports has departed. The first of our people are about to do what no human has done for a hundred and sixty-one years: stand on the living soil of a real planet.
I’ve done it. I’ve brought our people to safety.
Along with all the captains before me, the Horizon Beta has brought us to sanctuary among the stars.
Chapter 1
Noah
I lined up with the other boys, heart pounding in excitement.
Today’s the day!
Eight of us boys were ready for the Ranking. Over the next three days, our fates would be sealed.
The Master directed us in the elegant, clicking language they used to speak to us. Among ourselves we spoke the Lowform, but I was particularly adept at making the clicking noises. That had to count for something. Surely my ability to converse with them would be a leg up in the Ranks.
I could tell them apart, though they had no need for names. The Masters were all one mind, one great “We.” They shared each other’s thoughts, and if one fell, another rose into its place. We Lowforms had no such power. We were individuals, alone in the world. We had names given to us by our mothers, that group of females living deep in the tunnels, surrounded by crying babies and screaming toddlers. I hadn’t been back to the Mothers’ Hall since the Masters came for me over ten years ago. Since then I’d lived in the boys’ area, where we learned the skills we would need once we were Ranked.
The clicks of the Master brought me to attention. I looked up past its huge pincers and into the expressionless, hard brown face.
“Running. White Rock. Return. Run fast.”
I stood next to my best friend Chen, sweating in the morning humidity.
“Man, Noah. I wish we had diving today,” he muttered. “Too hot to run.”
I laughed. It was always too hot to run. But that’s what the Masters wanted.
“This is the Ranking. Just do it,” I said.
He would do his best. We all would. The prize for the chosen few demanded it.
I squinted across the low field. Anything could be hiding in those grasses. But the Masters were there to protect us. Without their great, stinging tails, we Lowforms were at risk from all the other insects that buzzed, hopped, crawled, and flew over the dry, cracked land to the soft sand where the ocean rolled in crashing waves. None of us felt entirely safe outside the thick mud walls our Masters built, the huge, towering Hive that sheltered us all. But the wind in my hair lifted my thoughts away from the dangers that lurked outside the Hive. It was time to run.
With two sharp clicks, we were off. My feet pounded on the hard ground, heels driving into the clay. White Rock was an outcropping in the distance, far across the grassy plain that separated our towering Hive from the green mountains beyond the plain. Between the rock and the mountains lay the Forbidden Zone, but we would turn back before we reached it. The first few steps I ran in the welcome shadow of the Hive, but soon it was left behind and the morning sun beat against my bare back. The cloth I wore around my waist flapped in the wind of my speed.
My mind raced as I ran. I didn’t want to win the race, but I thought coming in second or third might be best. The winner was certain to get Ranked as a Runner, one of the Lowforms that accompanied the Master Soldiers on their patrols, bringing back messages to the Hive or scouting around. Runners didn’t live long. The few I saw in my training always looked haggard, thin and ropey, eyes darting around all the time. I admired their service to the Hive, but I didn’t want to be one. Too dangerous out there.
I was in front of the pack, cruising through the grassland, bare feet swishing along. My eyes scanned the high grass around me, alert for danger. Workers kept this path cut short, but anything could hide in the tall field around me.
A sharp elbow knocked me off my stride and I stumbled, crashing off the path and into the tall stalks. Gil shot past me, laughing.
“Did you fall? So sorry!” He skittered away down the corridor while I picked myself up off the ground. A couple of leaf-eaters had hopped onto my legs and I brushed them away before they could bite me, stumbling out into the short grass as the rest of the boys pounded past. Chen was at the back of the pack and I loped along next to him. He was breathing hard, sweat pouring off his face.
“I . . . saw . . . it,” he panted. “He . . . pushed . . . you.”
“He did,” I answered. “It’s okay. Don’t wanna be Runner.”
But I didn’t want to lose any of the events in the Ranking. I was a great swimmer. Everybody said I was a shoo-in for Diver, whether in the dark, clear water that flowed in rivers under the Hive or in the sea where the waves beat the shore. Diver would be a great life for me. I’d be happy as a Diver.
Even if I came in last on this footrace, I could still be a Diver. But if I came in second or maybe third, the door would still be open. The shining door that led to the highest honor the Masters could bestow. I had dreamed about it for years. Only the very best were granted the title, and I wanted it so bad I could taste it.
Queen’s Servant.
Every Ranking, the very best boys were taken into the depths of the Hive, to the secret, forbidden tunnels that led to the Queen herself. No other Lowforms ever got to see her. I couldn’t imagine the glory of it. The Queen of the whole Hive. If I became her Servant, I’d get to see her. I’d be sent on some mission with her blessing, or remain in her chambers as her trusted protector, or . . . I didn’t know, really. I’d never seen a Queen’s Servant after they were chosen. They were far too exalted to return to the rest of us Lowforms. But maybe, just maybe, if I did well enough, I could join those ranks.
I grinned at Chen and poured on the speed.
Chapter 2
Noah
I paused at the White Rock, panting. Beyond lay the Forbidden Zone, where only the Masters patrolled. It was a long, low, tree-lined valley dotted with huge shapes, long and unnatural. Parts of the huge shapes glinted in the afternoon sun, but most of them were brown and green, overgrown with creeping tendrils that waved in the hot breeze. A few Masters scuttled over the enormous growths, and I caught my breath for a moment, until a few of the other boys caught up with me. Then I was off again, sprinting back toward the Hive, lungs burning as my legs pumped.
Gil won the race. I came in third, behind the boy we all called Red because his skin turned scarlet every time he was out in the sun. He was bright red now, huffing and panting, but standing tall before the Masters.
“Race stop,” the Master clicked. “This one fastest.”
Gil beamed at the Master, and shot a wicked smile my way.
My blood pumped hot and I wanted to slug him, but Chen grabbed my arm. “Not worth it. Let him go be a Runner. Good riddance.”
I smiled a little at that. Chen was right. It would be great to be rid of Gil.
“Hey, Noah,” Gil said as he sauntered past. “You okay? Saw that fall. Right into the leaf-eaters. Tough luck.”
My hands balled into fists, but once again, ˙ was there.
“You sure are fast, Gil,” he said. “Bet you’ll be the fastest Runner ever.”
Gil puffed up at that, glancing back to make sure the Masters had heard Chen’s words.
They didn’t deign to respond, of course. Such Low chatter was beneath them.
The Masters were magnificent in the late morning sun. It glinted off their armored backs, on the long, segmented tail with its stinger. Their six hind legs effortlessly ate the distance, and when they reared back to gesture at us with their huge pincers, we all shrank back. Next to them, we were nothing. Soft skin with no armor. Hideous hair growing from our heads. The fact that they allowed us to live in their Hive, to dive for their food and clean up their waste and maybe, just maybe, serve their Queen was unfathomable to me.
We plodded on our pathetic two legs down to the beach, surrounded by Master Soldiers. Past the towering brown Hive, we clambered down the rocky shore to where the ocean rolled in from so far away I couldn’t see the end. The sun was high now, glittering off the distant waves. Rocks gave way to brown sand, soft and shifting under our ungainly feet. The Masters skittered right over it. Hot wind brought a salty, fishy smell. This cove was bordered on each side by rock formations that jutted straight into the sea, blocking the heaviest waves. With each passing wave, I glanced up and down the long, smooth beach, watching for the little bubbles that indicated a shellfish had burrowed into the sand.
The Masters loved shellfish.
But the Masters didn’t swim. Far out beyond the breakers were vast fields of shellfish, lined up along hard coral ridges. They were deep underwater, and had to be pried loose with a tool, but I had mastered the technique. I was a great diver. This was my chance to shine.
“Dive,” one clicked. “Here. Most food best.”
One of the Masters had used a front limb to carve deep grooves into the sand, making large round circles, one for each of us. We would have a set amount of time until they called an end to collect as many shellfish as we could and place them in our circle. I grabbed a woven bag and tied it around my waist, handing another bag to Chen. Some of the boys weren’t good swimmers. Chen wasn’t. Instead of diving, he’d likely comb the sandy beach, watching for those bubbles and digging up the smaller shells as he could. He was pretty fast at it and would probably do fairly well. Gil wasn’t a great ocean swimmer, either, so Chen would have to watch his back. A pile of the strong metal rods we used to harvest the shells sat next to the circles, and I tucked one into the rope holding the bag around my waist.
The Master clicked
the signal, and off we went. I bolted for the ocean, loping with huge strides into the oncoming waves. I dived under the largest ones, keeping my forward motion as the sea tried to shove me back toward land. As soon as I was out far enough, I submerged and swam, kicking with strong strokes away from the breaker line, out to the depth. The sea was alive with fish, darting among huge rock formations on which scuttled a hundred different kinds of sea-insects, brightly colored and shimmering under the weak sunlight.
The shellfish that the Masters loved were anchored to the rocks on the beach side of the cove. Shoals of them ran in long lines parallel to the sea’s edge, opening their shells to suck in seawater and closing them when a shadow passed overhead.
I scouted a likely area, dove down to grab a large rock, and kicked to the surface.
Breathe out, one, two, three. The breath whooshed out of me as I squeezed my chest.
One huge breath in, and down we go. The rock I had taken helped pull me down when the air in my lungs tried to stop my descent. Head down, I pinched my nose and pumped air into my head so my ears didn’t burn.
Once on the bottom I set to work. Pulling the pry rod from my waist, I braced myself against the sharp rocks. My hands were long since toughened to leather, and the edges didn’t cut me like they had when I was first learning to dive almost ten years ago. My rhythm took over. Dig the rod in. Lever out the shell. Peel it off the rocks. Stuff it in the bag. Repeat.
I harvested until my chest screamed for air. Grabbing another rock, I kicked for the surface. When my head broke, I sucked in a huge gasp of air, holding my face clear of the rolling waves. A quick glance at the shore showed distant figures rushing along the waterline, grabbing at shells in the surf. I couldn’t tell who was who, or how well they were doing.
Back down we go. Breathe out, one, two, three.
After three trips down to the shell field, my bag bulged. Time to head in and dump. I had no idea when the Masters might call a halt to the test. The older Divers I trained with had varying accounts of their own Ranking. Some only had time to get a single trip, while others were diving all afternoon, until their heads and ears were pounding from the pressure. The Masters were clever and would always bring out our best.
