by J. N. Chaney
J. N. Chaney
Copyrighted Material
Resonant Son Copyright © 2019 by Variant Publications
Book design and layout copyright © 2019 by JN Chaney
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living, dead, or undead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from JN Chaney.
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Books in the Renegade Star Universe
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Renegade Atlas
Renegade Moon
Renegade Lost
Renegade Fleet
Renegade Earth
Renegade Dawn
Renegade Children
Renegade Union
Renegade Empire
Renegade Descent
Standalones:
Nameless
The Constable
The Constable Returns
The Warrior Queen
The Orion Colony Series with Jonathan Yanez:
Orion Colony
Orion Uncharted
Orion Awakened
Orion Protected
The Last Reaper Series with Scott Moon:
The Last Reaper
Fear the Reaper
Blade of the Reaper
Wings of the Reaper
Flight of the Reaper (September 2019)
The Fifth Column Series with Molly Lerma:
The Fifth Column
The Solaras Initiative
Resonant Sone Series with Christopher Hopper:
Resonant Son
Resonant Abyss (Sept. 2019)
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Resonant Son
Book 1 in the Resonant Son Series
J.N. Chaney
Christopher Hopper
Book Description
Resonant Son
Resonant Son Series #1
30 floors of nightmare fueled action. An ex-cop with nothing left to lose.
After losing his job and family, Flint Reed finds himself in the middle of a terrorist attack. With nothing but his wits and experience as a former Union police officer, he must do everything he can to stay alive.
As he soon discovers, however, there are also hostages, and no one is coming to save them.
All hope falls to Flint.
But as he fights to navigate the building, the real answers begin to unravel. What are the terrorists really after, and why are they so intent on getting into the vault?
Experience the beginning of the Resonant Son series. If you're a fan of Die Hard, Renegade Star, or the Last Reaper, you'll love this epic scifi thrill ride.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
Renegade Star Universe
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Acknowledgments
About The Authors
For the Renegade Readers. Your support has meant the world(s) to me.
–J.N. Chaney
To my wife, Jenny, for giving me the courage to dive down the elevator shaft. And to Jeff, for extending the offer of friendship and opportunity—I'm forever grateful.
–Christopher
1
“We’re done, Flint,” Heather said over the pre-recorded holo message. Normally, this information would have been private. But thanks to my cheap setup, the audio wouldn’t pair with my ear comm and instead blared out of the speaker on my wrist unit. I tried to lower the volume, but the buttons on my wrist comm were too damn small. Which meant everyone on the commuter train got to hear my bad news too. Fantastic.
“And if you need me to tell you why,” Heather continued, “then you’re as oblivious and stubborn as I thought you were.”
Several people in the seats around me gave me annoyed looks. I struggled to terminate the message, hoping to save it for a more private environment, but it was a small screen and I had a man’s fingers. How was I supposed to know this was going to be her farewell letter? I thought it was just my daily “don’t forget to let Tiny out when you get home” reminder.
Nope. Not today.
This was the big one. The “I don’t want anything to do with you ever again” note. Not to be outdone by “and I’ve expedited divorce proceedings and sent them over this encrypted transmission” kind. But I didn’t blame her. When a cop gets fired for punching his boss in the face, it doesn’t exactly foster pride in your family members—let alone your wife. Nor does the follow-up job as a security guard. To be honest, I was surprised I hadn’t gotten this message sooner. Still, it sucked.
“And in case you’re worried about all your stuff,” Heather said, “don’t be. You can have the damn dog, the mortgage, the overpriced payment on our too small apartment, and everything else in this gods forsaken hell hole. Nothing’s clean enough in here that I’d want anyway.”
I winced, trying not to make eye contact with any of the passengers glaring my way. I’d gotten plenty of this sort of embarrassment back when I was in the academy. But that was a long time ago, and I supposed I was due. Plus, it wasn’t like Heather was making any of this stuff up. I was a slob. And Tiny, our Androsian attack dog—now my Androsian attack dog—had pissed by the front door more times than I could remember. He was a rescue from a raid I had been a part of back on the force. Nobody else in the department wanted him—"Too expensive,” and “Too much to handle,” they said. Which was true. Only elites and high-end criminals owned such rare animals. But I was the only cop he’d let approach when the gun fight was over. Everyone else, he threatened to tear apart with snarls that made your hair stand up. From then on, we were inseparable, piss and all.
As for the monthly payment on our living space? I didn’t expect her to carry it. I’d bought the Paradise Falls unit before we got married, thinking it would be an easy pay-off with my salary. Now, between that and the rest of my mounting debt, I’d be lucky to hang on to the place through the end of the year. No wonder she wanted out. H
ell, I’d want out too.
“Can you turn that down, buddy?” a man asked across the aisle.
“What’s the matter?” I replied, glancing at him. “You afraid you’re next?” I nodded at the wedding ring on his finger. The man tried hiding his hand by shoving it under his armpit and looking away nervously.
“Listen, Flint,” Heather added, her voice pulling me back into the conversation. “I know neither of us wanted it to end this way. That’s what old age and hover seats are for, right? But I’ve got an offer on Psylon Five and…” Her eyes searched for the right words, and somehow, even before they left her lips, I knew exactly what they were going to be. Somehow, I realized, I’d known for some weeks. “And I’ve met somebody.”
“Godsdammit,” I said, louder than I intended to, drawing more attention from the other passengers.
My soon to be ex-wife continued. “Just acknowledge the divorce in the meta field and… it’s done. Judge’s signature and timestamp are preloaded for you.”
I couldn’t blame her for being efficient, though I did wonder, despite myself, if her new man would be able to keep up with her. The poor bastard was probably riding high on those early relationship pheromones and had no idea what heartaches he was about to walk into. Who knows? I thought to myself, allowing myself to smirk. Maybe we’ll be nursing beers in the same bar one day after he realizes the mess he’s gotten himself into. Who was I kidding? Heather was a catch, and me? Well I was just bitter.
“I’m sorry it’s come to this, Flint,” Heather said. “I didn’t want… I mean, it’s just that.” I could see tears coming down her cheeks. My chest tightened at the site. “So long, Flint.” She kissed her fingers, touched the camera lens, and then terminated the recording.
A red holo button appeared in the sidebar next to a stream of italicized fine print. The button read Divorce: Accept and pulsed in a gentle glow. “Eh, what the hell,” I said to no one in particular. “I had it coming.” Then I jabbed the translucent button with my finger and watched as it turned green.
The word Accepted appeared on the display followed by a cheerful, automated female voice, saying, “Divorce acknowledged, Mr. Flint H. Reed. Thank you for using GaliComm to ensure the safe transmission of your divorce today. It has been a pleasure serving you.”
An unremarkable-looking woman in a seat facing mine two rows down was staring at me. “You got a problem, lady?” I asked. She looked back at her data pad. I shook my head, then watched as the transmission on my wrist comm closed out.
I needed a drink. I pulled my flask out of my coat when Tiny’s collar comm buzzed. The small two-way device was lodged somewhere in my pants pocket; getting the damn thing out was always a chore. One of these days they’d learn something about convenience, and have it work directly from my comm, but for now I had to remember the stupid accessory. Heather had insisted we buy the overpriced contraption to keep tabs on our lanky, long-snouted canine, even though the device was marketed for cats. But an animal was an animal, so what did it matter? As far as I was concerned, the tech was just one more example of how extreme cat lovers spent more money on their damned felines than they did on human beings. Then again, I did have a tendency to dote on Tiny, so I didn’t have a lot of room to argue.
When I finally got the collar comm’s receiver out of my pocket, I heard him start barking—the kind he made when he needed to be let out. I envisioned his nub of a tail wiggling back and forth, and his eternally-perked ears eager for me to reply. But before I could give the voice command for the house’s system to open to doggy door, Tiny went silent. I brought the speaker close to my ear, concerned that maybe something had gone wrong. That was when I heard the sound of a small stream of liquid splattering on a hard floor.
“Son of a bitch,” I said, rubbing a hand over my face. I flicked the collar comm off and shoved it back in my pocket.
I sighed, then unscrewed the cap on my flask. I placed the tin on my lips and tipped my head back. The flask’s last drop of scotch hit my tongue. This year could not get any worse.
The walk up to EnerTron Corporation’s Oragga Complex never ceased to fascinate me. The plaza’s main building, built and named in the CEO’s honor, was the tallest in all of Sellion City. It towered into the fading night sky, mirroring the city’s surrounding lights against its glossy surface. As impressive as the structure was, the thing that really made it stand out was everything an overseer couldn’t see—at least from this side of the city’s platform.
Unlike the other floating cities across Ti Bier Prime—a gas giant on the outskirts of Union territory—Oragga Complex made Sellion City unique in that the building had an identical tower hanging below the platform too. I’d seen it plenty of times on the holos whenever the media covered EnerTron, but only once with my own eyes during my initial orientation for this gig. It was a sight I’d never forget. Instead of being one building among many, the bottom extension of the Oragga Complex looked as though it stood alone on an inverted plain, complemented by a sea of clouds some ten kilometers below.
Not only was the complex impressive visually, but Mr. Oragga, whoever he was, had more credits than he knew what to do with. Who built a tower beneath a platform when the one above it was impressive enough? A guy with more credits than the gods, that’s who. Oragga was, however, the head of the largest mining and refinery operation in the quadrant, so what did I expect?
I passed beside the main fountain and entered the building through one of the front doors. The vaulted ceiling rose ten stories above me, its cavernous height swallowing the sounds of my footfalls. I’d never been one for heights, so looking up only made me dizzy—ironic that I’d live on a floating city. Instead, I kept my eyes on the security station at the far end of the lobby.
The two guards looked up as I approached. Of all the guards to be on duty for the holiday weekend’s skeleton crew, it was poor Polski and Hoss. Figured. The kids had no lives.
“Forget something, Mr. Reed?” Polski asked.
“I’m just here to clock in, boys,” I said, handing them my keycard.
Polski looked between me and my card with a confused look on his face, unsure what to do. “But, sir… you just got off your morning shift when I clocked in. Unless you’re…”
There was an awkward pause as the two second-shift guards looked at one another and then back to me, a look of realization dawning on their faces.
“Swipe my damn card, Polski,” I said.
“Ye—yes, sir.” He swiped the card and handed it back.
I knew I didn’t owe them an explanation. Hell, I didn’t owe anyone anything… except ongoing living unit payments, the tax and utility bills, and Heather’s back debts. Weren’t those the whole reason I’d taken the second shift?
“Listen, boys,” I said, leaning against the desk. “Sometimes life doesn’t go your way, so you gotta take what you can get. In my case, that’s a second shift to help pay the bills and keep the wife happy.” I cringed inside as I remembered the divorce affidavit I’d just signed. Whatever.
The two younger security guards nodded.
“Say, when’s your shift get over?” I asked.
“Thirty-five minutes, Mr. Reed,” Hoss replied.
I scratched my stubble, considering something. “Let me get showered, and then I’ll be up to relieve you a few minutes early. Hit the bar for me. Sound good?”
“Wow, thank you, Mr. Reed,” Polski said.
Hoss nodded enthusiastically. “That’s real kind of you, sir.”
“Just do it for somebody else one day.”
“Oh, we will!” Hoss said. I thought the kid was going to have a spasm or something.
“Easy, Hoss,” I said, pumping my hand at him. “Don’t make a scene. I’m just trying to be nice. I’ll see you both in about fifteen.”
“Thanks again, Mr. Reed,” Polski said. “See you.”
I walked toward the security entrance and waited for Polski to buzz me through. I gave them both a wink and then closed the door b
ehind me. It felt good to do something nice for those kids. Gods knew they couldn’t make a career out of this job… but maybe that was all they had going for them. Sellion City wasn’t exactly the most accommodating place to try and make a living, unless you were rich.
I walked down the hallway and held my keycard against the mag lock to enter the security corridor. I passed the surveillance room, administration office, and then the lounge. Then I pressed open the men’s locker room door, stripped down in front of my locker, and stashed everything inside.
The shower’s hot water felt good. More scotch in my flask would’ve felt better. But I’d take what I could get. I washed my hair and body, then shaved. When my routine was over, I let the water beat on the back of my neck for just a minute as my thoughts began to wander.
I was going to miss Heather. We’d been in love once, back when everything was normal. But I suppose it’s easy to love when everything is going the way you want it to. Before your husband’s name is dragged through the mud in the news.