The look on Raul’s face made ‘Uncle Gilberto’ laugh.
“Don’t be so shocked,” said the alien impersonator.
“You said you wanted me to stop the Associated Fleet from ever starting the war,” said Raul, “by going back in Time. I was gonna ask you how but … if you know how, why do you need me?”CONTINUE READING
By now, Raul’s reconnaissance vessel had taken him light years from the Slingharen’s asteroid observatory. That would have made him feel safe, were it not for one nagging doubt. The same cortical implants that had twice helped him escape, most likely emitted trackable signals.CONTINUE READING
Though Raul was grateful to have found a safe haven, he wasn’t sure that arriving at a Resistance enclave qualified as “escape.”CONTINUE READING
In his haste to reach the Kuiper habitats, Raul had made a crucial miscalculation. Because his tiny escape pad was intended to be no more than a high-tech lifeboat, it had limited speed and maneuverability and was useful for short distances only.CONTINUE READING
Though Raul pretended he didn’t know who’d threatened him at gunpoint, his cover was blown. He was ordered off Kuiper habitat Seven A and whisked away by lander to the military transport he’d arrived on.
A few hours later, Section Leader Ian Hazelton called Raul in for interrogation.CONTINUE READING
Raul peered out at Roxanne and marveled at how much Time had changed both of them. Here he was, an agent of the Associated Fleet’s Intel Corps and she, with little doubt, was a member of the cyber terror cadre his superiors had labeled “The Enemy.” CONTINUE READING
All through mission training, which was carried out onboard a military cruiser disguised as a standard commercial vessel, Raul wore himself out, trying to devise an escape plan. Trouble was, everyone else on the seven-member drop team was as intellectually gifted as he was - and would notice any hint of subterfuge. CONTINUE READING
Raul’s eyes fluttered open from a tortured sleep for the fifth morning in a row. The nightmares, he’d been told, should have ceased by now. But just as before, his tired mind had been bombarded by a tidal wave of data from every angle. Once again, he was forced to wonder if the GenMod team had pushed his mental development too far. CONTINUE READING
The lander that took Raul from the detention center on Kaligir 3 to a military transport about ten AU away wasn’t what he’d expected. Considering that Fiona Marsh had represented herself as a human rights attorney, he’d expected the ship to be a commercial or private vessel. Instead, it was unabashedly military, down to the insignia hovering over every bulkhead entrance. CONTINUE READING
One hot summer night on a remote island on Kaligir 3, Raul Wexler was awakened by a terrible row. A twenty-three-year-old hotel steward, Raul couldn’t imagine what had made him the target of so much shouting. A recent arrival, he’d enjoyed a peaceful life so far: a steady paycheck, modest quarters and a chance to watch the idle rich play at a major resort.
But here was this violent commotion, complete with the chilling phrase “Sector Enforcement.” CONTINUE READING
“It is not as you imagine,” said the Serlatian in Bleenor’s mind. “We cannot carry out our offensive without revealing our position and risking millions of lives. You two, however, are already known to the Alornoz and have less to lose.” CONTINUE READING
Bleenor scrambled to say something, before the telepathic symbiote detected his thoughts about the pulsating orange globe. CONTINUE READING
The trip to the metaversal parallel of Serlat 3 was easily the most tense time in the two insectouds’ lives. Instead of indulging in wise-cracking banter, they were forced into sullen silence. There was no escaping the thought that this flight was merely a detour on their way to mental oblivion. CONTINUE READING
The waylaid cargo vessel, Shiny Nova, sped along the arbitrary trajectory its navigator had set in a moment of panic. Alone in his quarters, Bleenor wondered what to do about the ship’s unwanted passenger, CONTINUE READING
Zevdra felt as if her head were exploding. She couldn’t decide what was worse: The truth about Bleenor’s crush on her — or the fact that she’d learned about it from a servicebot. CONTINUE READING
“How could a human know ancient Veratrese?” asked Zevdra. “I ... well, I don’t even know it.”
“Different universe, Captain,” said Bleenor. “We’re lucky there are at least a few parallels. Otherwise, we’d have no way to get oriented.” CONTINUE READING
The startled silence that filled the bridge was broken by a staticky comlink transmission.
“Unidentified vessel,” said a weary voice, “Mayday, mayday. Life support failing.” CONTINUE READING
As usual, by the time Zevdra settled into the Captain’s chair, the launch codes still weren’t loaded into the nav console. But the real problem was Company Policy. Though Zevdra knew those codes by heart, only the Navigator was authorized to enter them.CONTINUE READING
(A Sci-fi/Noir Novella)