But race to where? They were involved in precious few extracurricular activities. This was Brewster Pennsylvania, after all, and there just wasn’t that much to do. Because of this, participation in extracurricular activities was very high. There were so many activities to choose from it was hard to imagine a student not being able to find several they enjoyed. And the alternative around here was most often boredom, since there wasn’t even a movie theater or any other sign of civilization within a hundred miles of the town.
She stepped from her office. “Hello, Ryan,” she said. “Hello, Regan.”
“Hello Principal Lyons,” they both replied cheerfully.
“Running a little late, are we?”
“Sorry. We’ll try to work on that,” promised Regan.
“Forget to set the alarm this morning?”
Ryan eyed his sister mischievously. “I don’t suppose you’d believe that we were meeting with President Quinn because he wanted to thank us personally for everything we’ve done.”
Principal Lyons looked at them crossly. “No, Ryan, I don’t suppose I would.”
Ryan managed not to grin but he couldn’t help wearing an amused look on his face. “I didn’t think so,” he said. “Okay, in that case, we overslept.”
“Overslept,” repeated Principal Lyons knowingly. “Just as I thought. From everything I hear, you two are great kids. I just wish you’d put in some more effort. I really think the two of you are capable of extraordinary achievements if you would just apply yourselves.”
“You really think so?” said Regan.
“I really do,” said the principal. “I know you aren’t involved in many extracurricular activities. What do you find to do with yourselves? This is a pretty isolated part of the world.”
“We keep busy,” said Ryan.
“Well, what did you do this weekend for example? I don’t want to pry, so only tell me what you’re comfortable telling me, but did you do anything productive? Anything exciting? Anything challenging?”
“I’m gonna say, yes,” said Regan.
“Definitely yes,” agreed Ryan.
“Like what?” pressed the principal.
“Uh-oh,” broadcast Ryan. “Any ideas?”
“None,” replied Regan. “Maybe we should just surrender.”
Ryan sighed heavily. “Okay, Principal Lyons, I’m gonna level with you. Regan and I don’t need much excitement. We just like hanging out at our house, spending time with friends, reading a little, doing a little hiking. I know a lot of kids our age need to be doing something exciting all the time, but not us.”
The principal nodded. “And there is nothing wrong with that,” she said. “Nothing at all. I just want to make sure you two live up to your potential. I would love for you to find something you could get excited about. To find something challenging to pursue that really interests you.”
“We appreciate the advice,” said Regan.
“Yeah. We’ll keep our eyes open,” promised Ryan. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll stumble onto something like that, after all.”
“Right,” agreed Regan. “You never know. It could happen.” She glanced at her brother and smiled. “To be honest with you, since we arrived in Brewster,” she continued with a twinkle in her eye, “I’ve begun to believe that just about anything is possible.”
The Adventure Continues …
The Prometheus Project
Book 3
Stranded
Ryan and Regan Resnick are trapped on a treacherous alien planet, surrounded by vicious predators, and in the path of a raging river of lava. And their troubles are only beginning …
When the Resnick kids become stranded on a primitive planet, they are plunged into a nonstop fight for their lives. But surviving on the deadly planet might be the easy part. Because if they can get back to Earth, they will have to face a ruthless adversary who controls a mysterious alien device. A device that is the most powerful, dangerous, and unstoppable weapon the world has ever known …
Bonus Chapter
Why Did Tezoc Zoron First
Set His Sights on Earth?
How Was he Able to Plan For This
Conquest While in Prison?
Turn The Page to Read a Bonus Chapter
That Answers These Questions.
The Alien Prisoner
This chapter was the first ever written for CAPTURED. It was written from Tezoc Zoron’s point of view, and was the beginning chapter of the very first draft of the book (although it didn’t make it into the final version). It takes place seven years before the events chronicled in CAPTURED.
Tezoc Zoron surveyed the prison’s vast grounds and lavish facilities from inside the enormous mansion that served as his private prison cell. He sneered bitterly.
Sheep, he thought in disgust. The people of the planet Morca had become nothing more than pathetic sheep. He was sickened to be a member of the species.
He had committed unspeakable crimes, and how had they chosen to punish him?—by placing him in a prison that was grander than a palace. He shook his head. The Morcans had become so soft that comparing them to sheep was an insult to the sheep.
He walked to his study and sat in a recliner that instantly counterbalanced his weight, even as he shifted, exactly mimicking the effects of total weightlessness.
But as much as he despised his own people, he hated an arrogant alien species called the Qwervy even more. He had just entered prison five years earlier when they had revealed themselves to the Morcans. The Qwervy were the species at the top of the food chain in a galactic collection of civilizations linked together by a vast web of portals. Step through a portal and you were on another world, even if it was trillions of miles away.
Prior to this time the Morcans had been completely unaware of this galactic community. But that didn’t mean the galactic community was unaware of Morca.
Oh no, quite the opposite.
It turned out that the Qwervy had established an underground city from which they had secretly observed the Morcans for hundreds of years. During this time, the Morcans were apparently not advanced enough, not mature enough, to join this galactic community. Until now. How lucky for the Morcans that the Qwervy had finally found them worthy to sit at the grown-up table.
It was an outrage! The Morcans had been spied upon and treated like children. Who were the Qwervy to sit in judgment of them? Who were the Qwervy to snub Morca as they had for hundreds of years? Yes, the Qwervy had superior technology, but only because they were the oldest species in the galaxy, not because they were superior.
And just like sheep, the Morcan’s couldn’t wait to flock to this galactic society, to abandon their old way of life to cavort with aliens—aliens who must surely be laughing in secret at the pathetic newcomers to their galactic club.
Well Tezoc wasn’t a sheep. Fire and pride still burned in his veins. He was unique—and everyone knew it. He was widely regarded as the most brilliant and most dangerous Morcan on the planet.
And the greatest insult of all—the Qwervy had contacted him in prison and offered to cure him of what they called his mental illness, eliminating his ruthless and unstable behavior. Cure him? It was the rest of his people that needed curing, not him. Would a powerful, cunning, perfectly adapted carnivore agree to be turned into a tame, spineless grass-eater? No, of course not. And neither would Tezoc.
He directed a thought at the wall and a glass emerged, instantly filled with his favorite drink. Invisible tractor beams of energy shuttled it quickly to his hand.
But as weak and pathetic as his fellow Morcans were, they had—finally—managed to capture him, and if he escaped they would do so yet again. They had recorded his brain wave patterns, something impossible for him to disguise, and had technology that would allow them to track him down, wherever he went. At least wherever he went on the planet Morca.
But because of the Qwervy he could now leave Morca altogether. As much as he loathed them, they had done him an enormous favor. He could u
se their portals to travel to another planet to amass immense power, right under their noses. And while this would be exceptionally difficult, he was as patient as he was brilliant—and he had all the time in the world to plan. He might be a prisoner, but he still had access to Morca’s extraordinarily advanced central computer.
“Computer,” he said after having accessed it, “I want to ask you some questions. Will this conversation be absolutely private?”
“Yes. Even though you are a criminal and a prisoner, you have the right to privacy … with one exception.”
“Which is?”
“I am not authorized to provide you with any information on prison security or any technology being used to keep you a prisoner here. If you ask me for any information that might help you escape, I will not answer and I will be forced to alert the authorities. Otherwise, our conversation will be private and I will provide you with any assistance I can.”
Tezoc nodded thoughtfully. “How about when we’re finished. Can I order you to erase all evidence our conversation ever took place?”
“No. You cannot. Our discussion will be recorded permanently and cannot be deleted. I can, however, seal the conversation so that only you can access it.”
Tezoc took a long sip of his drink and let go of his glass. The tractor beams caught it instantly and it hovered before him as he continued. “Suppose you sealed our conversation and—speaking totally hypothetically, of course—I were to escape,” he said calmly. “Would this be grounds for the authorities to break the seal?”
“No one has ever escaped from a modern Morcan prison,” pointed out the computer.
The corners of Tezoc’s mouth turned upward in a slight smile. “Of course, of course. Since escape is impossible and I have no interest in escaping in any event, I only ask out of idle curiosity.”
“The conversation would be sealed no matter what, even if you were to escape and even if you were to commit further criminal acts. No one but you could ever retrieve it.”
Tezoc nodded, satisfied. It was very thoughtful of the sheep to protect the privacy rights of the carnivores. “Then do so. Seal this conversation and all other conversations and interactions between us until I tell you otherwise.”
“Acknowledged.”
“Okay, let us begin. How many planets are connected together by portals?”
“This number is growing so rapidly that by the time I communicate the precise number to you it will have changed.”
“Approximately how many?” snapped Tezoc impatiently.
“Nine million.”
Tezoc whistled. The Qwervy and their community of alien species had been busy.
“How many of these planets are members of the galactic community?”
“As of today, 397.”
“Just 397? Out of nine million? What about the rest of them?”
“Other than these 397, almost all of the rest are primitive, devoid of intelligent life or civilizations. These can be accessed freely by all members of the galactic community.”
“You said almost all of the rest are primitive. Which means there must be yet another category.”
“Yes. This category is comprised of worlds containing civilizations that have not advanced enough for membership in the galactic community. Each of these is under periodic observation by the Qwervy or other member species. These worlds are restricted. Only a few authorized observers are allowed to visit.”
Tezoc nodded. “How many, exactly, are in this category?”
“As of today, 268.”
Tezoc paused in thought. “And how many of these have achieved a technology advanced enough to harness nuclear power and to have simple computers?”
“One hundred and forty-seven.”
“Of these, on how many could a Morcan disguise himself as a member of the dominant, intelligent species without major surgery? Don’t worry about differences in internal organs and the like, just outward appearance.”
“Working … thirty-eight. In some of these cases, the disguise would only require a few changes that could be done with simple makeup. In others, the disguise would require sophisticated masks of the type produced by special effects experts who work on actors.”
This had been a difficult question. It had taken the computer almost a second to answer.
“Computer, I have saved a file on my compu-pad entitled, desired mental frequencies. Please upload this file.”
“Working … uploaded and read.”
“Good. How many of these thirty-eight species have brain architecture that fits the profile listed in this file?”
“Three.”
“Do the Qwervy consider all three of these species to be equally promising?”
“No. Surprisingly enough, one of the three is considered to be more promising than any of the other 268 known pre-galactic species. So promising, in fact, they are even thought to have the potential to surpass all of the advanced species in the galactic community someday, including the Qwervy. They are a very young species in galactic terms, but they are advancing at a rate never before seen. Unfortunately, they are also thought to have the potential to become one of the most dangerous species ever known.”
Tezoc smiled for the first time. Perfect. They were just like him—brilliant but dangerous. Who wanted to rule a race of sheep, after all.
“And the location of the planet on which this species lives?”
“Like Morca, it is in the Milky Way galaxy. It is 26,000 light-years from the center of the galaxy, on the edge of one of its four spiral arms, and 8,000 light-years away from Morca.”
Tezoc nodded. This was an incomprehensible distance, but it meant nothing now. Thanks to the almighty Qwervy, the planet was just a portal step away.
“And the name of this planet?”
“The inhabitants call it simply, Earth.”
Tezoc repeated the word slowly, letting it roll off his tongue. “Eeearttth.” His eyes brightened as his hatred of the Qwervy was momentarily forgotten. “Okay, download all information you have on the planet Earth into my compu-pad.”
“Working … download completed.”
“Project a hologram of the planet,” ordered Tezoc.
“Acknowledged,” replied the computer as a blue-green globe suddenly appeared in front of Tezoc and his floating drink. The globe began slowly revolving.
“Good. I want to remind you that I’m asking nothing about escaping from this prison, nor will I ever.” He paused. “With that understood, please download all information you have regarding the workings of the portals into my compu-pad.”
“The file is enormous and will leave you with almost no memory in your compu-pad.”
“Understood. Do it anyway.”
“Working … download completed.”
“Good. Do you know the security measures that prevent unauthorized persons from traveling to these restricted planets?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know how to bypass this security?”
“No.”
Tezoc nodded, not at all surprised. “Okay, here is what you and I are going to do. Together, we’re going to figure out a way that a man could bypass Qwervy portal security—again, not prison security, but portal security—and travel to this planet Earth. We are then going to find a way that this same man could erase all evidence of this trip and close the portal down behind him, ensuring that no one knows where he is or can follow him.”
“For what purpose?”
“Since it doesn’t involve escape from this prison,” replied Tezoc smoothly, “this is none of your concern. However, since we’re going to be partners for many years, I will tell you. I need to work on something that will stimulate my mind while I’m in prison. I’ve chosen this problem because it’s interesting and challenging, and for no other reason.”
“You are certain this is a good idea? It is not clear that this problem can be solved. Even if it can be, finding a solution will almost certainly take many years of constant effort.”
&n
bsp; Tezoc smiled and spread his arms to take in the spacious prison surrounding him. “I’m not going anywhere for a long, long time. This is the perfect challenge.”
The computer wasn’t entirely satisfied. “My second concern is for your mental health. Even if we find a way to defeat portal security to travel to Earth, if you believe you will somehow be able to escape this prison to carry out this plan, you will be very disappointed. You cannot escape from this prison.”
“Of course not,” replied Tezoc, an amused tone in his voice. “Escape is impossible. Everyone knows that.”
“Good,” replied the computer. “I would not want you to suffer such great disappointment.”
Tezoc smiled without humor. “Don’t you worry about me,” he said coolly as a fierce gleam came to his eye. “The last thing I plan to be is disappointed.”
Tezoc paused for a long moment deep in thought. “One last thing,” he said finally. “I have an idea for an invention. For a device I can use to amplify and enhance certain of my mental capabilities. Will you provide me with the parts and supplies I need to build it?”
“Provided these parts cannot be used in an attempted escape,” replied the computer predictably, “and provided I analyze and approve the plans. As long as the invention cannot be used to harm anyone on Morca, I will approve it.”
“Good,” said Tezoc coolly. “Very good.” His eyes locked firmly on the blue-green globe floating before him. “Then there is nothing to worry about. As you will soon see, my invention cannot be used to harm anyone.” He watched the small globe complete yet another of its slow revolutions and the corners of his mouth turned up in a cruel, satisfied smile.
“At least not anyone on Morca,” he finished icily.
About The Author
DOUGLAS E. RICHARDS is a former biotechnology executive who has written extensively for the award-winning magazine, National Geographic KIDS, and also for American Fencing Magazine. He currently lives in San Diego, California with his wife, Kelly, his children, Ryan and Regan (for whom the main characters in his Prometheus Project series are named), and his dog Dash. After graduating with a BS in microbiology from the Ohio State University, he earned a master’s degree in molecular biology from the University of Wisconsin and a master’s in business administration from the University of Chicago. To learn more about Douglas and his work, please visit www.douglaserichards.com.
Captured (The Prometheus Project Book 2) Page 16