Alone, stripped of all connections to home, a space captain finds new hope among an ancient alien race—but someone is not happy he is there.
Usually, captains go down with their ship but when his vessel explodes, Captain Yoni Arduus takes an escape pod with a handful of his crew.
After a fatal encounter with inhabitants of an uncharted planet, the captain is the sole survivor and cast adrift far from Earth. He is forced to embrace a new society.
Within the hidden facets of this alien world, Yoni is haunted by a mysterious leader who secretly manipulates events. Under this shadow, the captain stumbles upon a dark secret that threatens everyone’s survival.
He knows he must escape the planet. But abandoning his new friends stirs up old guilt. As a chance to escape develops, Yoni jeopardizes his new citizenship by concealing a fugitive. He must decide how far his loyalties go.
Immerse yourself in a unique alien world that is both otherworldly and strangely familiar—the first installment of ESCAPE FROM DESOLATION is a well-paced science fiction thriller that showcases the enduring quest for one man to find purpose after devastating losses, and defines the essence of personal meaning.
Alone, stripped of all connections to home, a space captain finds new hope among an ancient alien race—but someone is not happy he is there.
Usually, captains go down with their ship but when his vessel explodes, Captain Yoni Arduus takes an escape pod with a handful of his crew.
After a fatal encounter with inhabitants of an uncharted planet, the captain is the sole survivor and cast adrift far from Earth. He is forced to embrace a new society.
Within the hidden facets of this alien world, Yoni is haunted by a mysterious leader who secretly manipulates events. Under this shadow, the captain stumbles upon a dark secret that threatens everyone’s survival.
He knows he must escape the planet. But abandoning his new friends stirs up old guilt. As a chance to escape develops, Yoni jeopardizes his new citizenship by concealing a fugitive. He must decide how far his loyalties go.
Immerse yourself in a unique alien world that is both otherworldly and strangely familiar—the first installment of ESCAPE FROM DESOLATION is a well-paced science fiction thriller that showcases the enduring quest for one man to find purpose after devastating losses, and defines the essence of personal meaning.
Space Mariner Code of the Galactic Realm: Ship’s captain must be the
last person to leave the vessel during an emergency.
“Captain … nearly fixed.” The chief engineer had a husky voice that
crackled over the intercom. As words mixed with static tones and phrases
were reduced to a narrow range of bass, Bill’s speech degraded into a brassy
groan. “Breach sealed … plasma stream ebbing … no … breach open …
must close again.”
Waiting in the only functional evacuation pod, the captain shook
his head as though his engineer was in front of him and not a voice on the
com. “I saw the readouts. It’s hopeless, Chief. The pod must drop off now!
I’m saving who I can.”
“How many … pod?”
“Eight.”
“Still time … get more.” The chief ’s voice faded amid the static.
“No time. I’m taking the eight.”
“You … on the pod? Coward!”
R o b e r t F . G l a h e
4
“I’m sorry, Bill.”
The captain had more history with the chief than the rest of the crew.
They were family. Bill was right. Yoni had an impulse to reopen the doors
and allow more personnel to find their way to his starboard pod the crew had
named Eve. The status of the second escape vessel, the portside pod known
as Adam, remained unknown. His finger rested over the button while he
hesitated. It trembled, and he ached for clarity. A surprise quake from the
Populus thrust him into the console. Large hisses boomed while Eve swayed.
The captain choked on the last words to his engineer when the escape pod
dropped away from the doomed vessel. Life and death in that little pod had
depended on the press of a button, a finger over a piece of sleek plastic. A
human digit, whether by volition or chance, activated the escape sequence.
He had not remembered pressing the release, but something happened. In
any event, it did not matter. Nine survivors had ditched the others.
He retreated into a command chair, one of three, with access to the
consoles in the nose of Eve. The conversation with the chief, uttered only
moments ago, echoed like an unbreakable loop.
The executive officer, Benson, sat at his right, and next to her was
the flight officer, Ridge. They did not speak to him, focusing on the pod’s
flight path away from the Populus, desperately trying to create significant
distance. The additional crew, six others, were secure and spaced sporadically
throughout the two banks of fifteen seats that lined the lateral walls
of the main cabin.
The captain clung to his seat, remained silent, and dwelled on the
chief ’s last words. Before the pod turned, he caught one last glimpse of the
Populus as they jettisoned away.
The first shock wave hit them hard like a sledgehammer in the face.
He, Benson, and Ridge had managed to strap themselves into their seats.
Eve nearly broke apart as the Populus released its power, confirming that the
captain could not have waited a moment longer to break away. The escape
was a hollow victory, as Bill’s condemnation boomed and he imagined the
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E s c a p e F r o m D e s o l a t i o n
sight of the ship dispersing into atoms, drifting in vacuous space forever.
Now, memories of those abandoned would have more form than their
dispersed remains.
What have I done to their souls?
Eve was alone among a peppering of stars against the blackness of
space, outside the boundaries of human expansion, known as the Galactic
Realm. The captain, Yoni, allowed his officers to stabilize their vessel. He
remained silent as he peered out the viewing port. The chief ’s final judgment
played in his mind.
Coward!
Another energy wave struck and thrust Eve into a tumble. Yoni
watched the stars appear to streak past as the ship spun. Benson and Ridge
scrambled to regain control, barking orders at each other while attempting
to coordinate their maneuvers. The captain let it pass as fog.
He wanted to release his restraints and allow Eve’s wild rotation to
batter him to a pulp as a form of contrition. If the stunt did not kill him,
the physical pain might end the voice of the chief in his head. Yet, it was
only an urge, a noble but empty impulse that yielded to self-preservation,
an automatic habit. He remained secure. Life was preferred to death, the
nausea of guilt his penance.
Coward!
He spilled gastric juices over his chest. It was his atonement. The
energy of Eve’s gyrations sprayed the mess onto the console. He could do
nothing about it. Benson glanced over, frowned, but returned to her work.
She activated Eve’s systems to analyze the ship’s condition and scan the
region. She told the captain she was calculating their range based on available
fuel, plotting trajectories to the Realm boundaries or other planetary
systems. Her effort was commendable considering the constant bouncing
of the ship as shock waves battered them. She said she had readouts, but the
ship was shaking too much to read them.
R o b e r t F . G l a h e
6
The news would be grim. Before the accident, the Populus computers
reported their position in a void about six light years across. When the
aftershocks ceased, if they ceased, the survivors would face a long, quiet ride
in empty space beyond the reach of any planetary system. The turbulence
persisted without a sign of abating.
Some shock waves were worse than others. Eve shook so hard that the
consoles became blurs. The head cushions impeded a full view of Benson
or Ridge, while the deafening crackles and sputters of the tumbling pod
quashed conversation. Ridge was partly visible. She was busy trying to use
the thrusters to control the ship, impeded by the security of her seat.
What happened to the inertia dampening? Who forgot to turn it on?
Motion controls, usually set as active by default, could be disabled if a
maintenance check were in progress. Usually, the commanding officer does
a flight check before departing. Even in an emergency, the one in charge
should verify the inertia controls. Benson was effectively captain while preparing
Eve before Yoni arrived. Her lapse could not be reprimanded by the
captain, who was not rightfully on the pod. In any event, the inertia systems
remained inactive, and the crew shook like salt and pepper.
Benson had bravely loosened her restraints to get a better view of the
consoles. Near the peak of the mayhem, she strained and was able to sputter
a brief report from her shaking mouth. “Captain. Eve located … a planet.
We’re … about to land but … going down rough.”
The executive officer’s report, although good news, could not be true.
“Benson, that’s impossible.”
“Say again, Captain.”
The Populus had detected a binary star system on its long-range
scanners, a system too far away to be what Benson reported. A course their
primary ship, with full hyper-drive, would require hours to traverse. But Eve
could never navigate it. A new factor was needed, allowing the extraordinary,
a distortion in space or an extraordinary boost from the shock waves,
allowing them to bridge the impossible distance.
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E s c a p e F r o m D e s o l a t i o n
“Are you sure, Benson?”
“No, Captain.”
“If you’re right … got to level out … burn up in the atmosphere.”
“I’m trying, Captain. Ridge hit … dampeners. We have to
stop spinning.”
“I got it.”
The image of a tan horizon stabilized in front of them, but Eve continued
to rock and shake.
“That can’t be.” Yoni rubbed his eyes to double check the image on
the viewer. The pod was free falling unless the automated systems engaged.
His officers were moving frantically, pushing buttons and checking data
readouts. He braced for a rough landing.
They had a modest measure of control, but the ship descended rapidly.
They were heating up fast, a trajectory setting them up to burn in the
atmosphere, but they made it through with some fancy flying by Benson
and Ridge.
He nodded at Benson amidst the rocking and arrhythmic jolts. The
first contact was hard. His chin slammed into the restraint. He was convinced
he snapped his neck but verified he was all right by moving his
fingers and toes.
“Sorry, Captain.” Benson was always mindful of her commander’s
comfort.
There were moments of weightlessness as the ship hit and bounced
while it skipped along the surface. The noise of scraping outside the ship
drowned out cabin sounds, while Eve shook constantly. Benson had loosened
her restraints again for more control, but it caused her body and arms
to flap about like a doll. She was in trouble but powerless to protect herself.
Each impact was less severe until Eve came to rest. The pod was down.
Amid coughing in the cabin and crackling of electrical shorts, Yoni
checked himself over for injury. He found Benson. She was slumped over
R o b e r t F . G l a h e
8
but moved when the captain placed his hand on her shoulder. Ridge was
checking the consoles. There was movement along the central aisle where
the rest of the crew endured the flight. Hazy air and failing lights obscured
who was moving.
“Is everyone all right?” The captain’s voice cracked with a low baritone.
He cleared his throat. The air was smoky and dry.
Someone in the crew complained louder than the rest, cursing
Benson’s flying, cursing the engineers who allowed the Populus to explode,
cursing his crewman who sat next to him. He cursed at the pod, the smoke,
the heat, and finally the captain. The voice was one of a kind, the edgy shrill
of Fourth Engineer Austin Judge, the sanitation engineer, the only engineer
not with the chief trying to fix the engines before the explosion.
“Okay. That’s enough.” The captain’s voice boomed through the cabin.
Judge shut up.
The rest of the crew were mumbling because no one could find the
breathing equipment. The masks were missing. Circuits threw sparks, and
the cabin reeked of electrical smoke. Coughing and choking impeded conversation.
It was risky to go outside until the atmosphere could be analyzed.
“Ridge, can you clean up the cabin air?”
“Negative, Captain. The environmental console is fried.”
“Benson. What’s the atmosphere out there?”
The executive officer held a bloody rag over her forehead while manipulating
the flickering consoles. “Captain. Yes. Twenty-three percent oxygen.
The rest is mostly nitrogen. It’s a little rich, but we can breathe it. The
temperature looks like 79 degrees Fahrenheit. The gravity resembles Earth.
We have standard one G, plus a fraction. Wait, there’s unusual flux in the
readings. That’s odd. No. It’s two standard Gs. No. Back to one. I’m sorry,
Captain, the equipment is on the fritz.”
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E s c a p e F r o m D e s o l a t i o n
“Is the atmosphere safe, Benson? Let’s worry about that first.” The
cabin air got thicker and burned the nose. The anomalies in gravity had
to wait.
“Roger, Captain. I don’t detect any toxins present in the readouts. I
think we can breathe it.”
“We will die in here if we stay much longer.” He directed Benson and
Ridge to pass him and head to the mid-section of Eve where the main exit
would lead them out. “Okay, people, open the door and get fresh air.”
Benson and Ridge passed him. The door resisted. Two of the crew
helped Ridge force it open. When the fresh air rushed in, smoking consoles
erupted into flames. The fire controls had failed to start automatically.
The captain went to the command consoles. When the pod was evacuated,
he activated the fire retardants that spread through the pod with thick
clouds. Eve may no longer be flight-worthy, but it was worth saving for its
supplies and shelter. He ran ahead of a white wall of inhibitor. He hesitated in
the thick haze, as the retardant approached, giving it a chance to engulf and
possibly kill him. Before he succumbed, he continued to the door, pausing as
light shined in his face and the crew recuperated outside. Ribbons of smoke
passed around him. He stepped off the pod.
At least this time I’m the last one to leave the ship.
Still a coward!
He stepped out from the ship, a metal shell with a skin of white paint
marred by charred streaks and deep gashes across the titanium-composite
hull. He stumbled when he misjudged the distance to the ground. He lunged
forward but managed to land on a knee to prevent flopping on his face. The
ground was soft. Forest litter cushioned his knee. He closed his eyes, like
his crew, due to the bright sunlight. He held his hand to the sky to shade his
face. The crew waited for him.
R o b e r t F . G l a h e
1 0
“Are you all right, Captain?” His executive officer was a solid woman
with brunette hair and chubby cheeks. She offered her hand and pulled
him up.
“I’m fine.” Yoni stood up easily with the boost and rubbed the smoke
from his eyes and grit from his hair. He was slender, a year before forty, and
an inch under six feet tall (designated one point eight meters in military
metric). The others formed a semicircle waiting for reassuring words from
their commander.
Benson handed him a handkerchief. She nodded toward his soiled
chest. He glanced down and wiped at it a few times but downplayed his
actions. The group stared elsewhere and avoided eye contact, except Judge
who shook his head.
A forest surrounded them, stands of trees resembling conifers, like
spruce and firs that covered the Pacific Northwest. The trunks were solid but
no thicker than a person’s body. The trees were evenly spaced as if cultivated
and not naturally grown. Thick clusters of narrow and long blue-green needles
interrupted the russet brown of the ascending trunks. Branches arched
outward like spokes of umbrellas, which diminished the light that reached
the forest floor except where the pod had destroyed them, creating spots
of full light. The edge of undisturbed forest was about ten meters from the
ship. Getting lost in that foliage was more appealing than facing the crew.
His crew waited, still like gravestones, the faces of stunned lambs,
happy to be alive and standing on firm ground, gratified they escaped
becoming cinders like their comrades who did not make it. The crew initially
let time pass without a word from their captain but fidgeted as he
remained quiet.
Benson, who was on duty when the disaster struck, wore her fulldress
emerald-green uniform with jacket zipped. She maintained an officer’s
stature and performed as though it was business as usual. Spots of blood
on her shoulder insignias revealed the trouble they had all endured. She
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E s c a p e F r o m D e s o l a t i o n
ignored her wounds and fidgeted with a handheld meter, scanning the area
and reviewing readings on the planet’s features.
The flight officer, Amanda Ridge, who was not on duty, wore a dark,
sleeveless cotton shirt and lighter shorts dyed in military khaki, a hue
that highlighted her delicate tan. She opened a medical pack and dressed
Benson’s wound. As the others moved around the ship, Yoni requested
Benson’s assessment.
“What’s your impression, Terri?”
“Earth-like, sir. The atmospheric layers are thinner than home. Higher
radiation levels, but not dangerous. We will survive in this environment
provided we find food and water.” Benson moved about, engrossed in her
measurement taking while Ridge shadowed her, attempting to apply a
better bandage.
Ridge finally had enough. “Stand still for a second!”
“All right.” Benson fiddled with her equipment while Ridge dressed
the wound.
Hal Jones, one of the biologists, was close to the backend of Eve,
shaking his head.
“What is it, Jones?”
“We did an enormous amount of damage coming down, Captain. It’s
a shame.”
“How long is the crash line?”
“A few kilometers at least. Do you mind if I survey the damage?”
“Not yet.”
Erwin Johnson, the metallurgist on the science team and born on one
of the Galactic Realm colonies, wore dark pants and a beige turtleneck. He
squatted down, scooped a handful of soil, and let it drift through his fingers.
After scooping up a second handful, he waved his hand over it and sniffed
the air. The scent puzzled him.
R o b e r t F . G l a h e
1 2
Dodge, a cartographer, Mendel, the communications officer, and
Ensign Scott plodded about aimlessly, as though they were waiting for
instructions. Scott meandered over to Johnson and crouched down to see
the soil. The mission was the ensign’s first deep-space assignment.
Bad luck.
Seven of the crew were in view. Judge was out of sight. He had been
the first to break the circle and wander around the ship. When he returned,
sweat drenched his black shirt. It was not hot, but Judge either had no tolerance
for warm temperatures or had been exerting himself by exploring.
His act was defiant because the captain had not instructed anyone to leave
the group. Judge removed his shirt to wipe his face, a stunt to show off his
perfect physique. Glistening skin accented Judge’s overdeveloped muscles
and olive tone. He wore a ponytail down the middle of his back that controlled
a mop of thick black hair.
Yoni hesitated to issue orders. Why did I get on the pod?
The crew grew restless. Action could no longer be avoided.
“Listen up.” The captain wiped sweat from his face.
Ensign Scott jumped in response. The lad was stiff with eager attention,
wearing an unnatural and overexaggerated grin that would become
permanent if he did not loosen up.
It was time for the captain to focus the crew. “Okay, people. We need
a plan while we have light.” The group gathered around him. “Benson, do
we have a fix on this planet?”
“No, Captain.” Benson’s head was bandaged. She was sweaty and
opened her uniform jacket.
“Are we in the Realm?”
“Unknown, Captain. Not likely. It’s not plausible that we were flung
back to our space.”
Yoni responded. “We got somewhere fast. We were not close to any
planetary systems before the accident.”
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E s c a p e F r o m D e s o l a t i o n
“That’s correct. I’m at a loss. I’ll check my data again.” Benson poked
at her device.
Yoni nodded and faced Mendel. “Communications?”
Mendel perked up and wiped sweat from his face. “We have the shortrange
handsets, but Eve is dead and silent. Captain. All her arrays were
stripped clean in the crash.”
Yoni nodded. “Have you picked up anything that sounds like a civilization
on your scanner?”
“Not exactly.” He brought out his device, reviewing the data
he collected.
“What the hell does that mean, Mendel?” Judge grabbed the device
from the communications officer and darted away to prevent Mendel from
reappropriating his device. Mendel’s arms flopped about as he groped toward
the engineer, but Judge was too quick.
“Judge, give it back to him!” Yoni barked out the order.
Ridge glided behind Judge and plucked the unit out his hand as he
waved it over his head.
“Hey, Ridge!”
The flight officer planted it firmly on Mendel’s chest. She smiled at
the captain.
“That’s enough, people. Mendel, do you think you picked up signs of
intelligence or not?”
“I get mostly static, Captain. Nothing noteworthy, except I did get a
few bleeps. I wouldn’t call it language.”
“Then what do you surmise it was?”
“Yes, Captain, it was artificial. A ping that responded to my scanning.”
“Hell, Mendel. Now, they know we are here. Nice job!” Judge
was annoyed.
R o b e r t F . G l a h e
1 4
Ridge defended the communications officer. “It doesn’t matter if
they’re friendly.”
“It does matter if they’re hostile,” Judge snapped back, one of his
unpleasant habits.
“That’s enough. Judge, if you want to offer something, tell us about
the pod. Can we fly it again?”
“Captain?” He acted stunned and clearly thought the question
was stupid.
Yoni rephrased his question with a hardened tone. “I noticed your
inspection. What is your assessment of Eve?”
Judge stood with an arched back and cocked head. He rubbed his right
forearm as if he had all the time in the world, having center stage.
“So, what is it?” The captain grew impatient.
“We’re stuck here. The port engine is smashed and nearly ripped out
of its carriage. The starboard is burned out. The hull has a half-dozen serious
fractures. Even if we made repairs and launched, she would break apart. But,
if by a miracle we did not break up, we couldn’t maintain cabin pressure.
There are holes all over this thing and more hidden fractures than visible
ones. She’s grounded.” He directed his attention past Yoni and through the
doorway. Smoke no longer poured out of the interior. He pointed at the pod.
“The retardant system put out the internal fires. Hooray, we have shelter
and supplies.”
The assessment was not a surprise, but it had to be reported. The crew
needed to hear the hard facts and open the way to accepting the situation.
Yoni paced, rubbed his head, massaged his eyes, and stared at the ground.
Benson approached him with a wobbly stride, but she tried to hide it.
“Captain, I’ve been analyzing the environment. It’s breathable here on
the surface, but the overall atmospheric region is thin, no more than three
kilometers high. The solar radiation is twice Earth standard and rising as
the two suns move overhead. We should find cover.”
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E s c a p e F r o m D e s o l a t i o n
Scott stared at the sky after listening to Benson’s report. Gawking, like
he encountered his first Ferris wheel, he fixated on the two suns, one like
Earth’s sun in size and yellow brightness, the other about the size of Earth’s
moon and a dim pink.
Judge grabbed that youngest crew member by the collar and pulled
him to the ground. “You idiot, do you want to go blind?”
Ridge shoved Judge away and helped the cadet off the ground.
Yoni issued his orders. “All right everyone, retrieve the sun gear. Grab
water. I want to survey the immediate area around the crash site before we
set up camp.”
While the group collected what they needed, the captain approached
Benson. “Terri, I want you to stay with the ship. Take care of that head.”
“No, sir. I want to go. I’m fine.” She straightened her posture as
though to prove her fitness. Arguing with her was pointless, because like
the last months on the Populus, she stuck to her position until he conceded.
Conciliation had become habitual.
“All right, but don’t push yourself.”
“I’m okay. Don’t worry, sir.”
Benson was the brave one. The captain should not have been there.
Coward!
When they reconvened, the crew had packs, water, portable short-range
communicators, head cover, and UV glasses. Breathing gear was never
located. Ridge suspected that those supplies were never on board, a screw-up
when the Populus was fitted for the mission. The omission should have been
detected. When people were involved, however, even the best pre-flight
preparations had flaws. That was Ridge’s assessment.
R o b e r t F . G l a h e
1 6
“Fortunately, we don’t need the breathers.” Ridge tossed her hands up,
a gesture to dismiss the oversight.
Ridge would not put blame for the lapse on the captain. In fact, she
minimized the problem to protect him. It had become a habit.
The officers wore regulation dark-green service caps, except Judge,
who fashioned a poorly constructed turban-like lump from his black
shirt. Yoni had no headgear. The scientists found khaki safari hats with
drooping brims and thin, extra-long chinstraps that draped down to their
belly buttons.
“Listen up.” The captain’s voice was hoarse as the heat beat down.
“Captain, you need a hat.” Ridge gave him her extra one, which she
conveniently brought with her.
He hesitated until he relented and placed it on his head. “I want to
survey the immediate area around Eve before we set up camp for the night.
Mendel thinks there may be intelligent life on this planet. He’s been getting
more readings.” He verified the report with his communications officer,
who nodded. “If there is somebody here, we don’t know if they’re friendly or
hostile. Let’s figure out how much breathing space we have out here before
we form a plan to find the natives.”
“I think that’s a wise course, Captain.” Benson loosened her cap to fit
over the bandaging.
Yoni continued, “We’ll form three teams and sweep out five kilometers.
If we encounter no one, then we have this forest to ourselves. Then, set
up camp and discuss a plan to get a distress call out, assuming we figure out
where we are.” Everyone had wrist communicators and synchronized their
time readings. When the captain set his device, he finished his briefing. “We
should be able to complete the recon in a few hours, allowing us enough
daylight to set up a camp. Benson has calculated that the first sun will set in
about seven hours and the second about ninety minutes after that. Correct?”
Benson nodded.
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E s c a p e F r o m D e s o l a t i o n
“Captain.” Johnson stepped closer to Yoni. “Mr. Jones and I have been
discussing this planet with Officer Ridge.”
“Go on.” The captain widened his eyes. His flight officer tipped her
cap, acknowledging the conversation.
“Our engine problems started when the Populus’s long-scan detected
a planet. If this place is that planet, we may assuredly be on a hostile one. We
should set up camp now, post guards, then proceed more cautiously. That’s
our recommendation.”
Judge shook his head and snickered under his breath. “These geeks
don’t have a stomach for adventure.”
“Cut it, Judge.” Yoni glared at Benson and Ridge. They should have
approached him first. Benson scowled at Ridge, signaling she held the
captain’s view.
“When were you going to discuss this with me?” Disappointed, Yoni
faced Ridge. Her move weakened his command.
“Captain, they approached me while we were gathering the gear. It
hasn’t been that long. I listened, but offered no opinion. I told them to talk
to you,” Ridge assured the captain. She respected his authority.
Benson huffed a bit, asserting her own status and right to control how
issues were handled.
Ridge assured the executive officer that she knew her place. “They
overstated my role in the conversation, but the fact remains that the only
planet we discovered in this region coincides with the initiation of our crisis.”
The captain faced his senior officers. “Benson, that detection was on
the edge of our scanners. We must have been over six light years from that
planet. Our pod would never make the distance. This place cannot be where
that beam originated. What’s your explanation?”
Benson hunched her shoulders. “I don’t know, sir. This place has a
binary star system. I don’t recall detecting that feature. It’s something I should
have remembered, but I can’t. I’m sorry, sir. It must be my head injury.”
R o b e r t F . G l a h e
1 8
Ensign Scott gazed at the suns again but jerked his head down when
Judge slapped him on the shoulder. “Hey!”
Jones interrupted, “If I may interject …” He had nodded every
time Johnson spoke. “It’s not unusual for one star to obscure the presence
of another.”
“What about the distance? Eve can’t do that kind of distance.” The
captain waited for Benson to corroborate. She nodded with a short pop.
“If I may, Captain,” Johnson spoke up, “when star-drives such as
those on the Populus rupture, no one fully understands what distortions
can occur in normal space and time. We surely could have breached the
distance in minutes.”
Judge said, “Hey, Johnson, aren’t you a metallurgist?”
“Sure, but I have broad scientific training.”
The ponytailed engineer shot back, “Uh-um. Captain, the pod could
never tolerate those distortions.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Judge.” Jones was obviously annoyed when Judge
challenged the credibility of his colleague and came to Johnson’s defense.
“Aren’t you the sanitation specialist among us?”
“Shut up!” Judge raised a fist toward Jones. “I’m still an engineer,
moss boy.”
“Enough.” The captain let his annoyance show.
Mendel stepped in to hold Judge back from a timid Jones, who backed
away to avoid a blow.
“Sir, if there is intelligence here, they must be advanced xenophobes
and have cloaked their system.” Scott introduced a conjecture out of
nowhere. No one had thought of it. The other officers searched for simpler
explanations.
Judge had settled down, and Mendel released him.
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E s c a p e F r o m D e s o l a t i o n
The engineer burst out, humored by the Ensign’s idea. “Nice try, kid,
but we’re not discussing comic book theories here.” He pulled Scott’s cap
down and brushed past him.
“Hey, I’m still a bridge officer. Show me some respect.”
“Whatever.” Judge maintained his pace.
“Everybody, quiet down.” Asserting command authority was uncomfortable
but necessary. “It doesn’t matter. We are on a planet. We will survey
the area as I have laid it out. Benson, take Scott and Jones. Head twenty
degrees portside off Eve’s nose.” He pointed toward the forest. “Mendel, take
Judge and Dodge. Follow the debris line behind the pod. I will head out at a
right angle from Mendel’s team toward the other side of the clearing. Ridge,
you and Johnson are with me. Check your gear. Go out five kilometers, no
more. Then head back. If you run into any signs of intelligence, make no
contact. Report to the rest of us but stay hidden. If you run into bad terrain
or thick brush, don’t try to make the full distance. Everyone, be back here
in three hours.”
The group acknowledged his orders. Ridge appeared agitated, something
most would not notice, but Benson and Mendel did. Ridge was third
in command, not Mendel. She should have led a team.
The captain expressed one final thought. “Check in at least every
twenty minutes. If one of us doesn’t report, we’ll know there’s trouble.
Any questions?”
No one responded. They assembled themselves, preparing to head out.
“Okay, let’s go.” The captain released a long breath.
Robert F. Glabe’s Escape from Desolation: Book One – Inclusion is a science fiction novel that blends elements of adaptation in a foreign world, relating to elements regarding social structure, environment, and differences between humans and otherworldly species.
The story follows Captain Yoni Arduus, a survivor of a spaceship crash on the planet DeSolus. As Yoni navigates the harsh realities of this new world, he has to confront his own guilt, the loss of his crew, and the strange, often hostile society of the DeSolans. The novel explores themes of isolation, cultural assimilation, and ethics in the context of a unique environment.
Glabe’s writing style is immersive. His strength is in his descriptions of the planet DeSolus, as well as the technological aspects of the society. The world-building is one of the book’s best features, highlighting barren landscapes, sterile cities, and the carefully cared-for forest that is of utmost importance to the society. The society is fascinating as it seems to be very streamlined and focused, there is cohesion, practicality, efficiency, and no monetary system that we are made aware of. This is likely linked to how much it has diminished its resources in the past and now is in survival/restoration mode. It's an interesting contrast to planet Earth.
The pacing of the novel is a bit uneven. While the initial crash and Yoni’s struggle for survival are gripping, the middle section of the book slows down as it delves into the bureaucratic and legal intricacies of DeSolan society, which might appeal to some, but a broader audience could feel bogged down. Additionally, some of the dialogue feels overly stilted, which can make it difficult to connect with the characters on an emotional level. The Captain's sarcasm can feel somewhat irritating at times. The character Ahri is quite interesting, however, especially as she changes while being around a human. There are also some questions that arise, such as why wouldn't they want to study the spaceship, or study Yoni, as an unfamiliar species? Perhaps they are so hyper-focused on the conservation of their planet that it is not important at the time.
The plot is intriguing, however, the resolution of some conflicts feels rushed, particularly in the latter part of the book. The ending leaves several questions unanswered, setting up the next installment in the series.