by J. N. Chaney
Epilogue
I stood inside a small room with Octavia. She had a needle in one hand, a pistol in the other.
If the man on the bed moved more than a few centimeters, she’d blow a hole straight through his brain. If he played nice, maybe I’d keep him alive.
After all, Alphonse had saved a little girl, not too long ago. He deserved to have the option of living.
The Constable cracked his eyes as he woke, a dazed look on his face. He noticed Octavia’s weapon first, then his eyes drifted to me. He was quick to assess his present situation, as I assumed he would be, so he didn’t bother to ask what we were doing there with a gun pointed at him. Instead, he simply asked, “Where am I?”
I stood at the end of his bed, near his feet. “A lot of crazy shit has happened while you’ve been asleep.”
He started to sit up, only for Octavia to raise her pistol. She gave him a look that suggested if he tried anything, things would get messy. He eyed the barrel, giving her a slow nod, then slid so he could look me in the eye.
“We’ll get to all that later,” I continued. “For now, it’s time for the adults to have a conversation, just the three of us. Think you can handle it?”
He stared at me for what felt like a long time, his chest breathing steadily. I couldn’t tell if he was scared or nervous. “What kind of conversation?” he finally asked.
“The kind where you tell me things,” I answered. “The kind where I ask you questions, and if you say the right things, maybe you get to live.”
Alphonse blinked his green eyes, taking a long moment to process my request. With a long, quiet breath, he let out a gentle sigh. “Alright,” he said at long last. “What do you want to know?”
Author Notes
A lot of crazy stuff happened while I was working on this book. First, I got sick and had to go see a doctor for the first time in three years. While I was recovering, Hurricane Irma struck Florida, devastating half the state with power outages, property damage, and flooding. It was a chaotic few months, to say the least.
Not that I let any of that stop me. I was in the middle of a book, after all, and I had to keep writing. The night of the hurricane, I charged my laptop and made sure I had a power adapter for my car, just in case. It was a good thing I did, too, because we lost electricity for about a week, and that initial laptop charge only lasted for five hours. Suffice it to say, I spent a decent amount of time in the backseat of my car, trying my best to get this book done on time. It was an interesting experience.
Still, I was one of the lucky ones. After the storm hit, my friend and I drove around town, looking at all the damage. Not only were several homes destroyed, but the flooding had wiped entire roads off the map, as rivers and lakes overflowed over the cement, collapsing it like paper, taking the neighboring homes with them. Even the bowling alley took a hit, burning to the ground seemingly overnight. If you want to see some pictures I took, check out my Instagram. I’d never seen anything so destructive, despite living in Florida for most of my life.
That aside, I loved writing this book. The exploration elements of science fiction have always been a fascination of mine, and I wanted to bring that curiosity into this series. As Jace and the gang continue their search for Earth, they’ll keep discovering cool and interesting things like the launch loop, which they used to reach the moon (click here to learn more about the launch loop theory).
So, what’s next for our crew of misfits? Well, you can probably guess, based on the title of the third book, Renegade Moon. Our team will learn more about the mysteries of their new base of operations, its original inhabitants, and all the other questions that have been raised before now. We’ve already learned a great deal about this universe, but there is still so much more to discover. Lex’s origins, for one, as well as the truth about how humanity lost contact with Earth. It’s all going to be revealed soon enough.
Until then, keep flying, Renegades,
J.N. Chaney
PS. Amazon won’t tell you when the next Renegade book will come out, but there are several ways you can stay informed.
1) Fly on over to the Facebook group, JN Chaney’s Renegade Readers, and say hello. It’s a great place to hang with other sarcastic sci-fi readers who don’t mind a good laugh.
2) Follow me directly on Amazon. To do this, head to the store page for this book (or my Amazon author profile) and click the Follow button beneath my picture. That will prompt Amazon to notify you when I release a new book. You’ll just need to check your emails.
3) You can join my mailing list by clicking here. This will allow me to stay in touch with you directly, and you’ll also receive a free copy of The Amber Project.
Doing one of these or all three (for best results) will ensure you know every time a new entry in the Renegade Star series is published. Please take a moment to do one of these so you’ll be able to join Jace, Abigail, and Lex on their next galaxy-spanning adventure.
Preview: The Amber Project
Documents of Historical, Scientific, and Cultural Significance
Play Audio Transmission File 021
Recorded April 19, 2157
CARTWRIGHT: This is Lieutenant Colonel Felix Cartwright. It’s been a week since my last transmission and two months since the day we found the city…the day the world fell apart. If anyone can hear this, please respond.
If you’re out there, no doubt you know about the gas. You might think you’re all that’s left. But if you’re receiving this, let me assure you, you are not alone. There are people here. Hundreds, in fact, and for now, we’re safe. If you can make it here, you will be, too.
The city’s a few miles underground, not far from El Rico Air Force Base. That’s where my people came from. As always, the coordinates are attached. If anyone gets this, please respond. Let us know you’re there…that you’re still alive.
End Audio File
April 14, 2339
Maternity District
MILES BELOW THE SURFACE OF THE EARTH, deep within the walls of the last human city, a little boy named Terry played quietly with his sister in a small two-bedroom apartment.
Today was his very first birthday. He was turning seven.
“What’s a birthday?” his sister Janice asked, tugging at his shirt. She was only four years old and had recently taken to following her big brother everywhere he went. “What does it mean?”
Terry smiled, eager to explain. “Mom says when you turn seven, you get a birthday. It means you grow up and get to start school. It’s a pretty big deal.”
“When will I get a birthday?”
“You’re only four, so you have to wait.”
“I wish I was seven,” she said softly, her thin black hair hanging over her eyes. “I want to go with you.”
He got to his feet and began putting the toy blocks away. They had built a castle together on the floor, but Mother would yell if they left a mess. “I’ll tell you all about it when I get home. I promise, okay?”
“Okay!” she said cheerily and proceeded to help.
Right at that moment, the speaker next to the door let out a soft chime, followed by their mother’s voice. “Downstairs, children,” she said. “Hurry up now.”
Terry took his sister’s hand. “Come on, Jan,” he said.
She frowned, squeezing his fingers. “Okay.”
They arrived downstairs, their mother nowhere to be found.
“She’s in the kitchen,” Janice said, pointing at the farthest wall. “See the light-box?”
Terry looked at the locator board, although his sister’s name for it worked just as well. It was a map of the entire apartment, with small lights going on and off in different colors depending on which person was in which room. There’s us, he thought, green for me and blue for Janice, and there’s Mother in red. Terry never understood why they needed something like that because of how small the apartment was, but every family got one, or so Mother had said.
As he entered the kitchen, his mother st
ood at the far counter sorting through some data on her pad. “What’s that?” he asked.
“Something for work,” she said. She tapped the front of the pad and placed it in her bag. “Come on, Terrance, we’ve got to get you ready and out the door. Today’s your first day, after all, and we have to make a good impression.”
“When will he be back?” asked Janice.
“Hurry up. Let’s go, Terrance,” she said, ignoring the question. She grabbed his hand and pulled him along. “We have about twenty minutes to get all the way to the education district. Hardly enough time at all.” Her voice was sour. He had noticed it more and more lately, as the weeks went on, ever since a few months ago when that man from the school came to visit. His name was Mr. Huxley, one of the few men who Terry ever had the chance to talk to, and from the way Mother acted—she was so agitated—he must have been important.
“Terrance,” his mother’s voice pulled him back. “Stop moping and let’s go.”
Janice ran and hugged him, wrapping her little arms as far around him as she could. “Love you,” she said.
“Love you, too.”
“Bye,” she said, shyly.
He kissed her forehead and walked to the door where his mother stood talking with the babysitter, Ms. Cartwright. “I’ll only be a few hours,” Mother said. “If it takes any longer, I’ll message you.”
“Don’t worry about a thing, Mara,” Ms. Cartwright assured her. “You take all the time you need.”
Mother turned to him. “There you are,” she said, taking his hand. “Come on, or we’ll be late.”
As they left the apartment, Mother’s hand tugging him along, Terry tried to imagine what might happen at school today. Would it be like his home lessons? Would he be behind the other children, or was everything new? He enjoyed learning, but there was still a chance the school might be too hard for him. What would he do? Mother had taught him some things, like algebra and English, but who knew how far along the other kids were by now?
Terry walked quietly down the overcrowded corridors with an empty, troubled head. He hated this part of the district. So many people on the move, brushing against him, like clothes in an overstuffed closet.
He raised his head, nearly running into a woman and her baby. She had wrapped the child in a green and brown cloth, securing it against her chest. “Excuse me,” he said, but the lady ignored him.
His mother paused and looked around. “Terrance, what are you doing? I’m over here,” she said, spotting him.
“Sorry.”
They waited together for the train, which was running a few minutes behind today.
“I wish they’d hurry up,” said a nearby lady. She was young, about fifteen years old. “Do you think it’s because of the outbreak?”
“Of course,” said a much older woman. “Some of the trains are busy carrying contractors to the slums to patch the walls. It slows the others down because now they have to make more stops.”
“I heard fourteen workers died. Is it true?”
“You know how the gas is,” she said. “It’s very quick. Thank God for the quarantine barriers.”
Suddenly, there was a loud smashing sound, followed by three long beeps. It echoed through the platform for a moment, vibrating along the walls until it was gone. Terry flinched, squeezing his mother’s hand.
“Ouch,” she said. “Terrance, relax.”
“But the sound,” he said.
“It’s the contractors over there.” She pointed to the other side of the tracks, far away from them. It took a moment for Terry to spot them, but once he did, it felt obvious. Four of them stood together. Their clothes were orange, with no clear distinction between their shirts and their pants, and on each of their heads was a solid red plastic hat. Three of them were holding tools, huddled against a distant wall. They were reaching inside of it, exchanging tools every once in a while, until eventually the fourth one called them to back away. As they made some room, steam rose from the hole, with a puddle of dark liquid forming at the base. The fourth contractor handled a machine several feet from the others, which had three legs and rose to his chest. He waved the other four to stand near him and pressed the pad on the machine. Together, the contractors watched as the device flashed a series of small bright lights. It only lasted a few seconds. Once it was over, they gathered close to the wall again and resumed their work.
“What are they doing?” Terry asked.
His mother looked down at him. “What? Oh, they’re fixing the wall, that’s all.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Probably because there was a shift last night. Remember when the ground shook?”
Yeah, I remember, he thought. It woke me up. “So they’re fixing it?”
“Yes, right.” She sighed and looked around. “Where is that damned train?”
Terry tugged on her hand. “That lady over there said it’s late because of the gas.”
His mother looked at him. “What did you say?”
“The lady…the one right there.” He pointed to the younger girl a few feet away. “She said the gas came, so that’s why the trains are slow. It’s because of the slums.” He paused a minute. “No, wait. It’s because they’re going to the slums.”
His mother stared at the girl, turning back to the tracks and saying nothing.
“Mother?” he said.
“Be quiet for a moment, Terrance.”
Terry wanted to ask her what was wrong, or if he had done anything to upset her, but he knew when to stay silent. So he left it alone like she wanted. Just like a good little boy.
The sound of the arriving train filled the platform with such horrific noise that it made Terry’s ears hurt. The train, still vibrating as he stepped onboard, felt like it was alive.
After a short moment, the doors closed. The train was moving.
Terry didn’t know if the shaking was normal or not. Mother had taken him up to the medical wards on this train once when he was younger, but never again after that. He didn’t remember much about it, except that he liked it. The medical wards were pretty close to where he lived, a few stops before the labs, and several stops before the education district. After that, the train ran through Pepper Plaza, then the food farms and Housing Districts 04 through 07 and finally the outer ring factories and the farms. As Terry stared at the route map on the side of the train wall, memorizing what he could of it, he tried to imagine all the places he could go and the things he might see. What kind of shops did the shopping plaza have, for example, and what was it like to work on the farms? Maybe one day he could go and find out for himself—ride the train all day to see everything there was to see. Boy, wouldn’t that be something?
“Departure call: 22-10, education district,” erupted the com in its monotone voice. It took only a moment before the train began to slow.
“That’s us. Come on,” said Mother. She grasped his hand, pulling him through the doors before they were fully opened.
Almost to the school, Terry thought. He felt warm suddenly. Was he getting nervous? And why now? He’d known about this forever, and it was only hitting him now?
He kept taking shorter breaths. He wanted to pull away and return home, but Mother’s grasp was tight and firm, and the closer they got to the only major building in the area, the tighter and firmer it became.
Now that he was there, now that the time had finally come, a dozen questions ran through Terry’s mind. Would the other kids like him? What if he wasn’t as smart as everyone else? Would they make fun of him? He had no idea what to expect.
Terry swallowed, the lump in his throat nearly choking him.
An older man stood at the gate of the school’s entrance. He dressed in an outfit that didn’t resemble any of the clothes in Terry’s district or even on the trains. A gray uniform—the color of the pavement, the walls, and the streets—matched his silver hair to the point where it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began. “Ah,” he said. “Mara, I see you’ve bro
ught another student. I was wondering when we’d meet the next one. Glad to see you’re still producing. It’s been, what? Five or six years? Something like that, I think.”
“Yes, thank you, this is Terrance,” said Mother quickly. “I was told there would be an escort.” She paused, glancing over the man and through the windows. “Where’s Bishop? He assured me he’d be here for this.”
“The colonel,” he corrected, “is in his office, and the boy is to be taken directly to him as soon as I have registered his arrival.”
She let out a frustrated sigh. “He was supposed to meet me at the gate for this, himself. I wanted to talk to him about a few things.”
“What’s wrong?” Terry asked.
She looked down at him. “Oh, it’s nothing, don’t worry. You have to go inside now, that’s all.”
“You’re not coming in?”
“I’m afraid not,” said the man. “She’s not permitted.”
“It’s alright,” Mother said, cupping her hand over his cheek. “They’ll take care of you in there.”
But it’s just school, Terry thought. “I’ll see you tonight, though, right?”
She bent down and embraced him tightly, more than she had in a long time. He couldn’t help but relax. “I’m sorry, Terrance. Please be careful up there. I know you don’t understand it now, but you will eventually. Everything will be fine.” She rose, releasing his hand for the first time since they left the train. “So that’s it?” Mother said to the man.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” She turned and walked away, pausing a moment as she reached the corner and continued until she was out of sight.
The man pulled out a board with a piece of paper on it. “When you go through here, head straight to the back of the hall. A guard there will take you to see Colonel Bishop. Just do what they say and answer everything with either ‘Yes, sir’ or ‘No, sir,’ and you’ll be fine. Understand?”
Terry didn’t understand, but he nodded anyway.