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Category: Science Fiction
Description: Sixteen years have passed since Promise Tide and Chrissy DuPries successfully forged the many factions of resistance forces into a cohesive unit, capable of facing--perhaps one day defeating--The Unbreathable, a force of evil attempting to control Earth's societies through the ubiquitous, all-powerful NATech conglomerate. Things have not gone well. Though the couple's love for each other has increased, as well as their personal wealth and their influence in the Resistance, The Unbreathable has grown even stronger and has deeply penetrated the Resistance, and now threatens to destroy all that's been accomplished. The Resistance leadership has decided upon a bold and dangerous plan to save mankind's society. Promise Tide must come out of hiding and discover the location of the Groundfather's soul--the man who created the Pisces race over 300 years prior--and use his knowledge to discover a weakness within The Unbreathable and force it to ruin and destruction. With this final mission of Promise Tide, the ghosts of the Pisces race will see the conclusion of their people's purpose. And it is left to Promise Tide, the last of her kind, to bring victory that will ultimately free Earth's people, or suffer a failure that will cost Promise her life, her love, and ensure the enslavement of a planet's society for all time.
eBook Publisher: Double Dragon Publishing/Double Dragon eBooks, 2007 Double Dragon Publishing Inc.
eBookwise Release Date: July 2007

9 Reader Ratings:

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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [238 KB]
Words: 52136
Reading time: 148-208 min.

Earth Date: May 12, 2432

"Three Twenty-Six to Deerkin Spaceway Control." Thomas Stewart patiently waited for a reply. "Deerkin Spaceway Control, please reply."

I hung over him, weightless, watching. My ship, the Three Twenty-Six , had been traveling at 2000FTL for a week and a half now, and the Deerkin system would be on us in three hours. Only we needed the System Pilot to give clearance and guidance.

"Any luck?" I asked.

"Uh-huh. All bad." He reached over his head and fiddled with the companel. "SM is online and diags out perfectly. We're sending all right. They're just not rec--"

"Three Twenty-Six ," came the crackle. It reminded me of our trip to the moon aboard the DL White so many years ago. How many? Sixteen! Hard to believe.

"This is Deerkin Spaceway Control. What can we do for you, Three Twenty-Six ?"

Thomas -- we never called him Tom -- nodded his head approvingly and slid into the pilot's seat and powered in. The ship's controls glimmered and beeped to life. I pushed off gently and took the copilot's seat beside him.

"Yes, Deerkin. This is the Three Twenty-Six , private yacht from Earth, requesting permission to enter Deerkin space with the aid of your System Pilot."

"We have you on holo, Three Twenty-Six . Did you say Earth ? What brings you all the way out here?"

Thomas glanced at me.

"Deerkin, this is Promise Tide, owner of the Three Twenty-Six . We are traveling to Deerkin for personal business and a ship refit."

"Roger, Three Twenty-Six ," came the crisp reply. "Please dock at Customs on Pluto. You'll rendezvous with the System Pilot there. Deerkin Spaceway Control out." Every inhabited system named their furthermost planet Pluto, and used it as a combination customs,border patrol, and visitor center. It saved confusion during intersystem travel, though ironically, the original Pluto, orbiting Sol, was demoted to planetoid several times over the centuries, only to be restored to planet status.

"Okay.... Got it!" Thomas pulled up the holo of the Deerkin system and projected it onto the forward port. A three-dimensional display projected onto a transparent two-dimensional surface sounded confusing, but it was ideal for space travel. The holo projected both inside and outside the ship, making for a very believable image.

"Rats. Pluto's on the opposite side."

"Don't worry, Thomas." I ruffled his hair as I got out of the seat. "We're underneath the system, so it's an easy course in. Besides, it's not like we're on a schedule." I glanced at the companel, but couldn't see the readouts. "Is Chrissy off-line?"

Thomas glanced up at the panel.

"Nope."

"She's been on for two hours now." I tugged my lower lip. "Oh well, she's probably ready for an excuse to get off."

"Promise!" he scolded, grinning. "My delicate ears!"

"Jerk!" I playfully smacked him in the back of the head. "I meant get off the comm!" I huffed my indignation. "Men!"

Copyright © 2007 Peter Prellwitz.