The hull creaked and groaned as the mouth began to suck it into darkness.
MAWRHG…MAWRHG…MAWRHG…
“Flo!” someone screamed.
It was Tatiana. She was hanging onto a latch on the wall.
Hux lay on top of an instrument panel, unconscious.
“Just hang on,” Florian said.
And with a giant gulp, the mouth inched over the rest of the ship, ingesting it.
Epilogue
“Auntie, help me!”
Annaliese walked cautiously through the living wing of her mansion, listening for her nephew.
“Auntie!” Florian cried.
His voice.
The voice that she remembered so well, that flash of time when he was a boy.
A boy.
Nine years old.
All these years later, this little boy was crying out for her.
A chill surged through her bare feet as she started up a curved staircase.
It was dead in the middle of night, and through the sheer curtains on the windows, a crescent moon shine brightly.
She placed her hand on the banister.
She was sweating.
Damn medication. It was really weakening her.
“Auntie, I need you!”
“Florian?” Annaliese asked.
She proceeded cautiously up the stairs and into a long hallway.
Florian’s bedroom was just a few doors down.
“Auntie, I’m scared!” Florian cried.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Auntie, help me!”
Annaliese quickened her pace and ran to Florian’s door.
She grabbed the handle and charged into the room.
She expected to see Florian, but there was no one in the room.
Just an open window, and a nighttime breeze.
She crept over to the window.
“Honey?” she asked.
She peered out the window.
Below, Florian was lying in the pool, face-down.
Her little nephew.
Her boy.
His body was covered in roaches.
She screamed.
Annaliese shot up on her bed, heaving.
Her chest rose up and down and she clutched her heart.
She looked at the clock next to her bed.
Three in the morning.
She sighed.
This damn medication was getting to her.
She reached for her phone and called her doctor. A groggy woman answered.
“Marla, I’m sorry to call you so late at night,” Annaliese said. “But I’m having nightmares. These pills are scaring me.”
“What kind of nightmares?” the doctor asked.
“Night terrors,” Annaliese said. “The same one, over and over.”
“Okay,” the doctor said. “I’ll see if we can do tomorrow. Come by the office.”
Annaliese hung up and set the phone on her comforter.
There was no going back to sleep now.
Not after that.
She slipped on her robe and passed through her empty mansion.
All the maids and butlers had gone home for the night. Aside from her security guard, whose flashlight gleamed against the window as he made his night patrol, the mansion was completely empty.
She started up the staircase to Florian’s room.
She opened his door.
The spacious bedroom was spare, aside from a bookshelf and a desk where he sometimes worked late.
On the desk was a picture of him and Annaliese. They’d taken it after she won custody of him. In a water park just before going down a giant slide. She had her arms wrapped around him. His eyes, blue and vibrant as the water on the slide, made her wish for him.
What had happened to that little boy?
He’d grown up.
He was a man now.
A capable and mighty young man.
She’d missed so much of his life. It had never occurred to her until hear last few days, when she had more time than she’d ever had in her life. Sitting in doctor’s offices enduring brain scans.
She had lost so much time.
She thought of her sister-in-law, Greta, and what she would have thought about all this.
Of course, Annaliese took care of her nephew. Spoiled him.
But she could have done more.
She could have raised him better.
She dialed Florian on her phone.
He didn’t answer.
When his voicemail machine beeped, she struggled as she tried to find the right words.
“Florian, it’s me. I’ve been thinking that I let you down. I…know I haven’t been the perfect aunt. Just thinking that we should spend some more time together, that’s all. Well, uh, yeah, uh, this is getting awkward now, so I’m going to hang up.”
She disconnected.
She stared out the window, out over her lush gardens, infinity pool, the shining crescent moon, the choppy gray ocean waters, the Macalestern skyscrapers in the distance, the glittering city and all that she had built—and she wished for her nephew.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Author’s Note
I’m the middle of an interesting experiment.
I’m trying something that is a little unusual in the realm of authors.
You see, I have just finished Book 7 of this series.
At the time of writing this note, Book 1 of the series will be launching.
I wrote seven books in this series before I released the first.
A little unusual.
But there are so many moving parts in this series that I wanted to make sure they were all correct.
Starting with Book 8, all the narratives merge. So in a way, I considered Books 1-7 part of one large narrative arc.
Florian’s Inspiration
I thought it would be interesting and different to write a novel from the perspective of the villain. Florian plays such a big part in the events of the other books that it just made sense to me.
I invented Florian. There was no direct inspiration; he just popped into my head as I was writing Book 3. I had so much fun writing him that I wanted to explore his life more. I also felt that his book would be a good endcap to the first seven books in the series.
It All Started with an Album
I wrote this book to the soundtrack of SaGa Frontier 2, which was composed by one of my favorite musicians, Masashi Hamauzu. In particular, his song “Trübsal”, translated from German into “affliction”, made me think of Florian’s childhood and what it would have been like to lose your mother and be a sad kid.
The entire album of SaGa Frontier 2 reminds me of a watercolor painting, which is how I saw Florian’s childhood. Mega-rich kid full of a sadness who grows up spoiled and entitled, which results in evil when he doesn’t get what he wants and his career is on the line.
Corporations in Space
I have always liked the trope of the evil corporation. Not because I hate corporations, but because the idea of a mega corporation in space always intrigued me. What would it take to run a real estate corporation in space? What would it look like?
I’ve already explored intergalactic real estate enough, so I don’t need to go into it here. But why should a corporation be completely evil?
Corporations aren’t evil; sometimes the people who run them can be. And sometimes, though I hate to admit it, business can be evil.
So the Macalestern Corporation walks a fine line between good and evil.
But it would be amazing to fast forward one thousand years from now and see where humanity is, assuming we’ve moved into the stars. The idea of intergalactic/interplanetary commerce and the kind of conflicts and opportunities that come up would be fascinating.
Think of the law and how it regulates commerce between two entities. Two countries. What would commerce be like between two planets?
Or money. What would money mean in space? I didn’t do too much brainstorming on it in th
is series, but it would be interesting to see how humanity values things and goods.
You would have to be a very smart entrepreneur, but there would be no limit to what kind of markets you could tap into.
And the vacations! Assuming we could make space (somehow) safe, I couldn’t imagine all the wonderful things you would see.
And if you can imagine it, I’m sure there is a business that could grow around it.
There would be a lot of money. And a lot of power. In the case of a corporation, CEOs would be mega-rich.
What kind of jockeying would there be to become a CEO of a multi-quadrillion dollar company?
That was my thought process in exploring the inner dynamics of the Macalestern Corporation.
Different Story, Different Narrative
Each of the first seven Galaxy Mavericks books uses a different narrative styles.
Grayson and Keltie’s are fairly straightforward narratives.
Devika’s jumps back and forth in time.
Eddie’s reads like a thriller.
Smoke’s is disjointed, unreliable and part of it backwards.
Michiko’s is a story of friendship and its deterioration.
Florian’s is the story of decay.
It was really fun to write these books. Even though they’re in the same universe, the narrative styles are different. I hope that each one felt unique in its own right.
Moving forward, all the narratives will merge into one crazy, fast-paced story, so you’re in for a ride!
Music References
No music references in this book other than a few of the “episode” titles.
Thanks for Reading
Now begins the final trilogy, the beginning of the end.
Thanks for reading.
Onward to Book Eight!
Preview of Book 8, Planet Eaters
Chapter 1
Grayson McCoy steered the escape pod toward the old warship in the distance.
The escape pod, barely bigger than a closet, was cramped and stuffy, and he'd only been in it a few minutes.
“Gonna come in nice and slow,” he said through the radio. “Eddie, you better get ready to receive.”
“I’m waitin’ for ya, big guy,” a voice on the radio said.
Someone giggled behind Grayson, and he turned to Michiko Lins, who was seated behind him. She petite and pale in her spacesuit.
“Is it just me or did that sound really inappropriate?” she asked.
Grayson thought about what he had just said. It hadn't occurred to him.
He laughed. “Guess you're right.”
He turned to Devika Sharma, who was sitting next to him, glancing quietly at the warship. Her face was serious, heavy.
“What's wrong?” he asked.
She ignored him.
He knew better than to probe. Some people were just troubled, and if you could do anything right, the best thing was to leave them alone.
After what they had just been through—a gunfight on Florian Macalestern’s ship that nearly ended in the self-destruction of the ship—some deep silence was expected.
Apparently Michiko didn’t get that.
Michiko grabbed the back of Devika’s seat and waved a hand in front of Devika’s face.
“Hellooo….are you alive?”
In an instant, Devika grabbed Michiko’s forearm and twisted it.
“Ouch! Hey, stop—”
“Leave me alone,” Devika said coldly. “I'm not here to make friends.”
Devika let go, and Michiko rubbed her arm, fighting back a pout.
“What's the matter with you?” she asked, hurt.
“I told you to leave me alone,” Devika said.
“You can't just sit there and internalize your emotions, Lara St—I mean, Devika,” Michiko said. “I just cannot remember to say your real name.”
Grayson shook his head.
Devika turned and looked out the window. The warship, old and gray, loomed closer now. Several beacons flashed on top of the ship. Devika put on her headset and opened the radio.
“Keltie,” she said, “were you able to trace Florian?”
“Negative,” Keltie Sheffield said through the radio.
It had been a while since Grayson heard Keltie’s voice. Over the radio, it sounded sweet, feminine. He wondered what she would say when he told her everything that happened on Florian’s ship.
A sputtering sound exploded behind them.
A black cloud with a single red eye shook and made a slurping sound.
“Clark,” Michiko said, wagging her finger. “We had an agreement. You promised not to cause any trouble.”
The alien sputtered again and splattered himself against the windshield. He looked at the exhaust coming from the warship.
“Must be hungry,” Grayson said.
He didn't care for any alien that could swallow him whole in a couple of seconds, but Clark had been pretty quiet and obedient for the whole ride.
“I guess you are hungry,” Michiko said, her eyes wide. “You're like a dog.”
“A dog that will get left behind in space at the first sign of trouble,” Devika said.
Clark shrunk away from the window. His eye, which was full of excitement, faded to sadness.
Grayson scratched his head. “How'd he understand you?”
Devika shrugged.
“It's her tone,” Michiko said. “Like the Crystalith, this alien apparently understands the tone in our voices. That's why it's really important to watch what you say.”
“Or don't say,” Devika said.
The radio beeped.
“We’re ready for ya,” Eddie said as the airlock doors on the warship opened. “And not in a sexual way.”
“Gotcha,” Grayson said, pushing up on the throttle.
Keltie Sheffield waited in the airlock as the escape pod cleared the outer doors and the inner airlock doors opened. The escape pod was a circular ball of metal that looked painfully uncomfortable to travel in.
She wrinkled up her nose.
It smelled like space, too. Like burnt rubber and popcorn.
“Smells pretty bad, huh?” she asked.
Silence.
She turned around. Eddie Puente was at a control panel, entering some commands. He ignored her.
She scoffed.
Ever since they had been left alone, he didn't acknowledge her. He seemed nice enough to start, and they even chatted for an hour. But it must have been something she said, because he stopped talking to her. Like a switch got flipped and she couldn't figure out why.
He avoided eye contact and acted as if the pod hadn't even entered the airlock.
The pod touched down on the ground with a clang.
Grayson piloted, and seeing him, she laughed. He was so tall his head was almost touching the ceiling. He was laughing, too.
Devika was frowning. But then again, Keltie had never seen her smile so that was nothing new.
There was someone else with them in the pod, but she couldn't see who it was.
The pod doors opened, letting out a large whoosh of air.
And then Keltie heard it.
A crazed, revving-like sound.
Weeeeerr!
Keltie ducked as a small black cloud darted over her head. A red eye glinted in the center of the cloud. Seeing it, her heart jumped, sweat beaded on her forehead, and she balled her fist.
“No,” she whispered. And then she yelled, “No!”
A Planet Eater. The alien race that started all of this, the race that killed her best friend before her eyes!
She ripped a crowbar off the wall and banged it as hard as she could.
The alien winced.
“Go away!” she shouted. “Go away!”
She banged the crowbar harder and the Planet Eater flew away, sputtering as if the sound were hurting it.
“Eddie, open the airlock!” she shouted.
Eddie watched with his mouth wide open.
“Eddie!” Kelti
e said.
CLANG! CLANG!
The alien sputtered again.
“I'll do it myself,” Keltie grumbled, running for the airlock controls. “You killed Claire. You'll pay, I swear to God—”
She heard gunshots in her mind.
Then she was back on Kepler.
In her spacesuit.
People were screaming.
Her best friend, Claire, was running next to her.
Bullets were flying everywhere. Planet Eaters covered the sky like ink.
A hand on her shoulder pulled her from the flashback.
She kept swinging the crowbar, denting the pod.
“Keltie,” someone said.
“Somebody help!”
“Keltie,” the voice said.
The alien retreated to the corner of the airlock, and it shrunk to half of its size.
Someone grabbed her crowbar.
She tightened her grip. But soon the crowbar was gone and it clanged against the floor.
Grayson had grabbed her.
“Keltie, it’s all right,” he said.
“What do you mean it's all right?” she yelled. “Do you remember what they—”
“He's not gonna hurt you,” Grayson said.
“He's telling the truth,” Devika said. “It seems to be docile.”
Keltie shook her head at the alien. She pushed herself away from Grayson.
A petite Asian woman stood behind Devika. The encounter had scared her.
“Hi,” the woman said. “I'm Michiko. And that's Clark.”
Clark swirled in the corner of the ceiling and hovered under a skylight, almost disappearing in the blackness of space outside.
Keltie backed out of the room. Took one last look at Grayson, Eddie, Devika and Michiko.
She thought she knew these people.
Now they were harboring evil aliens!
It was too much to take. She ran out of the room.
“Well, that was a disaster,” Devika said.
“Guess we should've warned her,” Grayson said, rubbing his head. “Definitely didn't think that through.”
Devika walked to the airlock access panel. Eddie was standing near it, frozen like a statue, staring at Clark.
Orbital Decay (Galaxy Mavericks Book 7) Page 13