“Yes, sir.”
Devika didn’t know what any of that meant. She had never seen a super soldier.
When she blinked, Florian was standing in front of the tube, and his brow was wrinkled.
“Why haven't you idiots taken care of her yet?” he shouted.
Two men shot the glass tube that held Devika. She closed her eyes as the polycarbonate glass cracked, crumpled, and fell away.
When she opened her eyes, Florian was standing in front of her.
“You're watching the greatest takeover of all time and you decide to close your eyes?” he asked.
Before Devika could respond, Florian jumped up and struck her in the head with the handle of his knife.
Chapter 30
Devika woke to a steady dripping of water on her forehead.
She was lying in the Specimen Room.
The room was eerily still.
She was on the floor.
Her wrists ached. Her ankles were swollen.
She was free.
The glass tube lay behind her.
She sat up.
Her head was foggy.
She felt wetness on her fingernails.
Blood.
Her fingers were covered in blood.
The knife Florian had used rested atop an instrument panel.
She looked around for Florian and his henchmen.
There was no one.
The dead bodies were gone, too.
She staggered upward, stabilizing herself on a nearby panel.
She crouched low to the ground, looking for any sign of trouble.
She didn't have her handcoil.
She would have to fight. And she would be at a disadvantage.
She started to crawl out of the Specimen Room when she noticed a hand out of the corner of her eye.
Miloschenko.
His body lay on the ground, the pendant between his fingers.
Devika crawled over to him.
His body was still fresh.
The ship listed to one side, and Devika crashed into the window.
The pendant rolled onto her boot and flipped over.
She bent over closer and studied the back of the pendant.
Numbers were carved into it.
She couldn't make them out.
The ship listed again, and she stumbled into a run and dashed out of the Specimen Room onto the Observation Skywalk.
There was a long trail of blood across the carpet.
She followed it, staying close to the ground until she entered the airlock.
The airlock was empty, too.
Except for the corsair that she had stolen. It was there just as she’d left it, with its bay doors down.
She looked around cautiously.
Where was Florian?
Where were the bodies?
How did they get off the ship?
The inside of the corsair was untouched.
But then she saw it.
A note.
In the cockpit, a note was attached to the dashboard.
Merry Christmas, little orphan Devi…
Uh oh…
Better get out of here before the wrecker arrives. He's going to crush, crush, CRUSH without discrimination!
Toodles…
Devika took the note and crumpled it in one hand.
She fired up the corsair and blasted out of Miloschenko’s ship.
As she entered space and went weightless, another ship exited hyperspace.
A red ship with two claws. Designed for pulling things apart.
Devika and the red ship passed each other.
She tried to get a good look at the pilot, but the cockpit windows were tinted.
The claws seized the ship.
Devika grimaced as the claws crushed the sides of the ship. The glass shattered. The metal tore, and if sound could travel in space, the noises would have been deafening.
With Miloschenko’s ship firmly in the red ship’s claws, Devika knew that there would be nothing left of it before long.
She shook her head as she thought about what kind of person would crush a ship without checking for life first.
Devika blasted into hyperspace without looking back.
***
She thought about what to do next.
She had to warn GALPOL about everything she'd seen.
Miloschenko.
His antics.
Florian.
The betrayal.
The Planet Eaters.
But her mind went to the woman’s voice that she had heard on the radio.
Keltie.
The woman whose voice was so fearful yet confident.
Her life was in danger.
Someone would be waiting for her to return home…
Devika banged the instrument panel as she tried to decide what to do.
She heard Mary’s voice inside her head.
“You've got to always do what's right,” Mary said. “Never let fear get to your head, no matter how powerful it is.”
Devika ran her hands through her hair as Mary’s voice continued.
“You didn’t wake up one morning and decide that you wanted to get abducted from your home. You didn’t decide to live in the streets in Coppice—you had to. You didn’t wake up deciding to be kidnapped by Arguses. I admire you so much for your tenacity. You’re such a strong girl. You really are, Devi. And I want to help you. Because every time I see you, I see a little girl who was probably so full of laughter and warmth, but she’s hiding. And scared. I want to meet that little girl. She’s down there, deep inside you, waiting to be let out. And my job is to help her get out.”
Devika looked at her reflection in the windshield.
Her face was bruised.
She had cuts on her cheeks from the foliage in the Coppice Rainforests.
“Deep down inside our hearts, no matter how much pain we've endured, the love light is as bright as a star. Our hearts don't operate in zero magnitude, Devi. You just have to learn to embrace what's inside.”
Devika entered new coordinates into the ship’s navigation system and gripped the joystick tightly.
She pulled on the joystick hard, and in the column of hyperspace, the ship did a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn.
Then she blasted off into the endless stream of purple, toward another part of the galaxy, toward the fate of someone who she'd never met but who desperately needed her help.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Author's Note
I have completely lost track of how many author’s notes I have written so far in my career. But boy, do I love writing them.
In a way, they help me mark the passage of time. They help me remember what was going on in my life at the time, that thrilling time when I've just finished a new book and everything is right with the world. Because you only finish a book once.
I have a dedicated calendar where I mark the publication anniversaries of my books. I get an email every time there's an anniversary. I have published so many books that on average, I get an anniversary email every two weeks. And I do it not because it makes me feel high and mighty or anything like that, but because it makes me smile.
Because life should be fun.
You should have fun with whatever you do. If it's roofing, if it's writing, if it's management, if it's insurance, if it's xenobiology…
Trust me. I've learned that if you can't see the fun and smile about what you're doing, you're not doing your life's calling.
And for me, writing a book always has to be fun, even if it takes me to dark places.
Let me tell you about something scary that happened to me.
I was kidnapped when I was a kid
My grandfather took me trick-or-treating when I was five or six. I was dressed up as a pumpkin and like any kid that age, I was super-excited.
Somehow, while we were out, my grandfather lost track of me (I was a wild little one) and someone ended up taking me.
And you know what happened
?
They stuffed me in a trashcan.
Not kidding.
My grandfather found me banging around in a metal trashcan, kicking and screaming.
I was so little that honestly I didn't remember it.
But it did leave a mark on me. To this day I am mistrusting of strangers until I know I can trust them. I spent my whole childhood scared of walking home alone from school because I worried that someone would kidnap me.
So you can probably see where the opening of this book came from.
I can't imagine what it is like for kids who get kidnapped for real. It's just scary. Really scary. My story ended well (and so did Devi’s), but for other children, the story is not so rosy.
I guess they say to write what scares you—and yeah, that's really scary stuff.
Human trafficking is real, too
Three days before I wrote this novel, I had no idea what Devika’s past was going to be.
Grayson had a past that you could identify with. He's brave, heroic, and you can relate to him.
Keltie is relatable too (and hopefully likable).
And the hero of Book 4, Eddie, is probably the most relatable of all (trust me, you'll love his story).
I knew Devi needed something different, something darker.
So anyhoo…
I was pumping gas at the gas station and I saw a billboard for the Iowa Human Rights Commission. It was an ad that said (paraphrasing): Human Trafficking Exists in Iowa, Too.
I had always known this.
But then I thought it might be interesting to explore something like this.
That night I also happened to stumble across an article about families in India who lose their children to kidnappers who then turn them over to adoption agencies. So when families from overseas adopt the children, they unwittingly participate in the human trafficking business. This particular news article talked about an Indian woman adopted by white parents who was trying to trace her roots back to India. Apparently, stories like hers are all too common.
That just breaks my heart.
Sure, I didn't go as deep as I could have gone into the subject matter.
But trust that Devika’s past will be an important part of her character arc, and… I possibly just gave you a spoiler (wink-wink).
I Have Rules
There are three subject areas that I WILL NOT write about. Writing this book really brought me against the boundaries of how far I will go.
1.) Rape/sexual assault—I just won't go there. I don't buy the argument that showing how visceral it is makes people understand a thing. Maybe it does. But I respect women too much to ever go there. Come on, let's face it: children get abducted in real life for sex. Not mining asteroids… but I just won't go there.
2.) Gratuitous Violence—It’s the reason I don't write horror. The most gruesome scene I have ever written was the opening for my fantasy series, The Last Dragon Lord. Basically, my dragon super villain rips a guy apart. But even for me, it's not that violent.
3.) Taboo/Cruel Torture—enough said. You're just not going to see “weird” stuff like that from me. Just personal preference.
It’s not because I'm “wholesome” or religious.
As I said before, I believe writing and reading should be fun. Sure, it has to depress you sometimes, and I've written my fair share of depressing stories.
But I prefer my writing to be a reflection of the way I see the world. And I'm very optimistic and sincerely believe that people are inherently good.
You'll see some “damns” and maybe some f-words. And you'll see lots of violence, sometimes against innocent people. But everybody has their boundaries.
Music Reference
The name Devika comes from a song of the same name by Lonnie Liston Smith. I absolutely love this guy’s music. He was a jazz pioneer in the 70s and 80s, and much of what he wrote was what you could call “space jazz.” When people talk about jazz “expanding your mind,” they're referring to guys like Lonnie Liston Smith.
When I was a very young musician, his music shaped the way I saw jazz. It knocked a few screws loose in my brain, and I was never the same after that. I listen to his music a lot when I’m writing.
Songs like “Floating Through Space,” “Summer Nights,” “Rejuvenation” and “Renaissance” are some of my favorite songs from him. Check him out.
Who is the next Galaxy Maverick?
Let me introduce you to Eddie Puente, an interplanetary garbage man whose life is turned upside down when he discovers Tavin Miloschenko’s ship while on his weekly garbage route. Suddenly he finds himself on the run and has to protect his family from bad, bad guys. Turn the page to read a preview from Book 4, Garbage Star. It’s available for sale now. Enjoy!
Preview of Book 4, Garbage Star
CHAPTER 1
A gentle beeping in the garbage ship cockpit woke Eduardo Puente.
He blinked rapidly and then startled up.
He had dozed off.
Wiping his mouth, Eddie Puente sat up and yawned. The ship's autopilot shut off, and his control joystick inched forward and vibrated until he grabbed it.
The ship's computer spoke. “Massive radiation levels detected. Please turn back.”
Eddie checked the radiation levels. Several yellow bars rose toward the top of a computer screen on his panel.
“Please say ‘accept’ to restore autopilot and set course for the most recent location,” the computer said.
He checked his star map, a three-dimensional holographic map that hovered just over the instrument panel. His ship—a blinking blue dot—traveled quickly across a grid and appeared dangerously close to a star.
“I decline,” Eddie said.
“By declining, you accept and understand the risks of high radiation.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, checking his instrument panel.
No concerns. The ship’s radiation ring was operational. The red ring rotated around the garbage ship like a coin twirling in the fingers of a magician.
A two-foot thick lead shell covered the habitable quarters of the spaceship, separated by a one-foot vacuum. He had the most radiation protection anyone could ask for.
The computer spoke again. “Dangerous methane levels detected.”
“Okay, gracias!” Eddie shouted.
He really wished that tampering with the ship’s warning systems didn't void the warranty.
Methane levels outside the ship were deadly high, and wisps of bluish red gas flowed around the cockpit glass. The vents switched on and funneled a mix of oxygen and a scent that reminded him of fresh laundry.
The oxygen in his suit kicked on as well.
Something rocked the ship, and he held onto the joystick.
Several bits of metal and unknown debris floated in the distance.
A television. Countless plastic wrappers. Jagged glass. Remnants of rotten food.
The trash irritated him.
“Rafi,” he said, smacking his helmet.
He activated a control box on the bottom of the ship and steered toward the garbage. He captured the debris in the box. With a masterful move of a metal arm, he dumped it into the compactor on the top of the ship and pulled the activation lever. The walls rumbled as the machinery crunched the debris.
He sighed with relief. Spillover was inevitable, but it should have been captured.
He would have to talk to his cousin Rafi about this. Sometimes Rafi wasn't as thorough as he should have been. He made simple mistakes.
The galaxy fined Eddie’s company for every cubic foot of trash outside a specified radius of the star. After all, his job was to dispose of garbage.
He just saved at least ten thousand dollars. That money would go a long way in paying his planet's debt.
Rafi shouldn't have been so sloppy, not when the whole family was depending on him.
Angry at Rafi, he wanted to reach for the radio, but forgot that it didn't work. Not in the presence of massive radiation. Even though he'd made
this journey a thousand times to the Garbage Star, he sometimes forgot about the limitations.
He calmed down.
“Mi familia,” he said.
He turned on the ship's thrusters and increased his speed.
Outside, far, far in the distance, an orange star raged in space. He had never seen it up close, but remembered the videos taken by a nanocraft. Fire danced across its surface like a roiling ocean. Scraps of trash flowed away from the star like celestial dust.
The Garbage Star.
Or, as his family called it, La estrella de la vida. The Star of Life.
A disk-shaped column glittered ahead—his destination.
He set course for the Upper Arm Transfer Station.
***
He checked the rearview cameras. One hundred cubes of compacted trash followed behind the giant garbage ship connected by metal trays, like a long train. The cubes were as big as houses.
All the cargo was present and accounted for. Sometimes it disconnected during flight, and that made for a very unpleasant stop. He'd have to climb into his corsair—a smaller spaceship stored in the airlock—and manually pick up the trash. It was a one-man job that wasn't difficult—just tedious. And it delayed him many hours.
He did a quick scan of the cargo and compared it to the bill of lading screen on his instrument panel.
Provenance—50 cubes
Macalestern—100 cubes
Brazasia (Colony)—10 cubes
Brazasia (Planet)—50 cubes
Refugio—50 cubes
The list went on.
His regular route.
He yawned. Already he'd been gone for two days, stopping at every planet in the western quadrant and collecting their trash cubes on his weekly journey to the Garbage Star.
Zero Magnitude (Galaxy Mavericks Book 3) Page 11