Lou was a firefighter before the real fires began. Now he's just an unwanted guest on the first ship of two that left Earth during its time of need.
When the wreckage of their sistership appears long after they were supposed to meet, the Commander puts together a rather misfit crew to investigate; a crew that includes Lou.
Let the adventures begin.
Lou was a firefighter before the real fires began. Now he's just an unwanted guest on the first ship of two that left Earth during its time of need.
When the wreckage of their sistership appears long after they were supposed to meet, the Commander puts together a rather misfit crew to investigate; a crew that includes Lou.
Let the adventures begin.
Welcome to Hell.
Degenerate louse reporting for duty. Need a fire put out? Iâll be smoking in the back. Need rescuing from a burning building? Thatâs not really my departmentâŚAre weighted blankets fireproof? Did anyone check that recently? Because honestly, Iâd love to know. Iâd be fighting fires one blanket at a time. If I was still fighting fires.
Are weighted blankets fireproof?
Okay, itâs written down. Answer coming to you shortly. That is if I can get my hands on the internet. I havenât been there in three years now. Maybe Iâll just ask the Commander.
On second thought, maybe not. I wasnât really supposed to be here. But when the world is bathed in fire, they canât in good conscience release me through the airlock. I mean, not to say they havenât tried. Thereâs been a few debates over my fate, but they all end in a tipped result. It starts as a tie, and then one bridge vote keeps me alive. Every. Single. Time.
Iâll admit Iâm lucky.
âLou!â Didnât I mention Iâm the official âlouâse on board? They just refrain from speaking the word fully.
âHere,â I call out, standing from my desk. My roommateâAceâand I have shared these quarters since we left Earth. He had to become my best friend; I decreed it so. Unfortunately, he doesnât seem to share my sentiment. Rock or otherwise.
âYou didnât show up for your session,â he growls, stepping into our small room.
I give my best smile, sheepish as it is. âI got distracted?â My voice rises several pitches.
He glances at the desk where my journal lies open. Sighing, his gaze returns to mine, floating from my uncombed hair down to my untied boots. I never claimed not to be a mess. I just want to make that clear.
âTie your boots and meet me in the training room.â He rolls his eyes. As subtle as he is about that motion, Iâm tuned to it.
He makes a show of watching the doors shut between us because he canât slam the door in my face. If thatâs not a plus to automatic doors, I donât know what is.
I slump back on my seat and pull one boot up. Iâm not a soldier. No matter how many times he takes me into the training room, Iâm going to be a dramatic failure. Not once have I been able to best him. No one on the ship can, so why should I be able to?
Our Commander doesnât understand that.
With my boots tied, I trudge to the training room. It takes a moment for the doors to open, but when they do, my heart sinks. Iâm not the only one who didnât show. Wrench is here too, in all her filth. I may be useless, but at least I have basic hygiene down to a T. When it comes to having a partner in combat training, itâs preferred they arenât covered in grease. Sheâs a slippery thing as it is.
âGood of you to show,â Ace directs the statement to both of us, glancing from Wrench to me. He then crosses the room, tugging his uniform over his head.
Wrenchâs gaze is lured to his back before she notices me staring at her. One furious finger lifts from inside her sleeve. Apologies, grease slick, itâs the only entertainment I get out of a day.
âDress down, now. Youâre wasting my time. Again.â
âIf I dress down,ââWrench blushes, her rude finger curling around a strand of blackened hairââIâll barely be in anything.â Sheâs not wrong. The mechanic jumpers are a mechanicâs basic clothing. Iâve seen the men disrobe. Itâs nothing but underclothes underâŚtheâŚclothes. Huh.
âTake this, then.â Ace is growing impatient. He practically pitches the tunic at her. Then his furious eyes meet mine.
I undress immediately, tossing my uniform to the corner. Itâs embarrassing to stand half-nude in front of Ace. Iâm a rail. Actually, not true. Iâm probably too thin to even pass for a rail anymore.
Wrench huddles in the corner, changing.
Iâm expecting to continue standing in wait, but Ace rushes me. My ankles practically snap as I scramble to avoid him. But he doesnât stop. He strikes me in the chest with a spinning blow. Tears sting my vision.
âI still wonder why you came here,â he hisses, fists clenching. Heâs in a really bad mood today, and itâs too late for me to notice that. Iâm in for a torture sessionâtraining be damned. Stepping around me, he bounces. He was once a professional martial artist. Rumor has it, he ran his own dojo before the world erupted.
His fist flies forward. I dodge, but his knee catches my ribs. And then he slams into me, driving me to the ground.
âMy sister died. But you, you feckless waste of space, are still alive. They wouldnât let her on the ship.â His fist meets my cheek. Then again.
I gag as blood surfaces over my lip.
Every year, like clockwork. It must be the anniversary of his sisterâs death.
âA-ace.â
I wouldnât intervene if I were you, Wrench. I gaze over at her, trying to warn her off. But does anyone listen to the louse? Of course not.
âAce, stop it!â
He strikes me again.
Iâm convinced my teeth rattled on that one. Iâd lost one the last time he got in this mood. Honestly, whatâs one more?
âAce, please!â
âYou want to trade places?â He roars, turning on her.
âNo, Iââ Her hands lift in defense.
The love of her life is such a cruel man. Poor thing. The love of my life was a four-legged beauty. I lost her to this man. I learned one very painful thing about heartache: it doesnât leave, even if you convince yourself it doesnât matter anymore.
âHey.â I roll to stand but canât. Damn, he really rang my bell. I sway, dizzy. This louse demands the knowledge to put Ace on his ass. Anyone? Oh right, Hell already burned through Earth. Thereâs no one listening. But on the off-chanceâŚone last bid. Anyone at all?
Ace angles back to me, seething. Heâs one punch away from ruining my mind for good when Commander bursts into the room.
âGet clothed,â Commander demands. He analyzes the situation, fights the smile that forms, and then clears his throat. âThereâs a blip on the radar.â With his announcement made, he retreats down the hallway.
I made a good choice not to bring up my question to him. But weighted blankets be damned, we may have found alien life.
âWeâll finish this later,â Ace snarls, wiping saliva from his chin.
Iâm not sure what Wrench sees in him. Or what I do. In all my life, Iâve never made a worse decision than trying to force this man to be my friend.
He snatches his uniform from the floor but doesnât bother donning it. In fact, he exits into the hallway still shirtless. Tough guy.
âI hope itâs a malfunction,â Wrench whispers. She glances over at me, probably considering helping me, but she doesnât. âI better get down there. If it is a malfunction, theyâll need another pair of hands.â She hurries to the corner to grab her jumper, gives me one last glance over her shoulder, and then joins the others in the hallway. Theyâre gathering in a horde.
Is it excitement or worry? It might be both.
Pushing myself up from the floor, I groan. This oneâll bruise. At least I survived with the rest of my teeth. Iâm not in a rush the way the others are. Sure, I have curiosity. Everyone has curiosity. Iâm fairly convinced itâs bad news though. Stooping forward, I grab my uniform.
âLou?â
Whyâs she back? I turn to see Wrench. âWhat?â I tug my uniform back over my head, even though Iâd rather stay naked. When evening strikes, undressing will be a pipe dream.
âI brought you some water,â she announces, stepping forward with the packet in her hand.
Itâs about the nicest gesture sheâs ever made at me, not that I mind her other crude motions. They usually make me laugh. âThanks.â I give her a smile, accepting the pouch.
âCome onââshe turns to the door againââthis might be the event of the year.â
âIf itâs nothing, crewâs gonna be real embarrassed,â I joke, following her. Maybe thereâs one friend for this louse yet.
We stalk down the hallway, shoving our way through to the bridge.
Ace is already there, at the right hand of our Commander. And surprise, heâs still shirtless.
The room is silent. The Commanderâs gaze is laser-focused on the beeping screen, but everyone elseâs gaze is focused on him. Theyâre waiting for him to make a move, a command, something.
âDo you think itâs our sister?â Ace suddenly wonders aloud.
The Commander is quick to shake his head. âLetâs not get our hopes up,â he mutters. âHow close are we?â
â100k and closing, sir,â one of the men seated on the deck announces.
âDo we have visuals?â the Commander continues.
Even from here, I can see his fists clench. Everyone here is a lot more anxious over this than I am. Sure, we were meant to meet our sister ship a year ago, but we have long since passed our specified location after they didnât show. Thatâs when I accepted their death. I guess Iâm better at expunging my hopes than the others. Perks of a louse. How far down the list should that perk be though? Second? Fifth? Fifth sounds good. There are a few other perks that sit higher. For instanceâ
âWe have visuals!â a voice shouts. The crowd floods forward, trying to catch a glimpse of the screen. Even Wrench pushes her way to the front, peeking at the pixelated image forming.
To me, it looks like nothing more than wreckage.
âClose-in,â the Commander orders our pilots. They maneuver, directing our path more succinctly onto the wreckage. âI want all frequencies scanned. We pull back if we catch anything. Anything.â
âSir,â resounding consent. I donât feel their anticipation. This whole venture is almostâŚboring.
Back on Earth, I really was a firefighter. That one is a surprise, I know. But I wonât claim to be the best or even one of the good ones. Sure, I saved a couple of lives, and I had the body for it. I certainly used to have some muscle. Thatâs something I regret losing.
That, and my thrill.
As a firefighter, I lived for the danger of helping others. My need for adrenaline wasâŚsomething I avoid now, but itâs left me almost immune to excitement. I get my thrills from random, mundane questions. My therapist used to tell me my journal would keep me sane.
But it doesnât seem to be working, does it?
The day Hell overcame us, I was the worst firefighter of them all. Early on that summer morning, the temperatures spiked. Experts were amazed, certainly, but not one of those idiots thought anything of it. Every year the summers had gotten hotter, and every year weâd survived it. But then the earthquakes began. And with the earthquakes came fires. They started small at first, beginning in the city. But the smoke brought dry storms, and lightning rode the tails.
Oh, and then there were the riots between the rebels and the antis.
It was all too much; we couldnât keep up. I didnât even try.
As the Earth was engulfed, two sister ships were revealed: the TedRyan and the Howser.
Yes, those are the names of the original engineers. Yes, they were brothers. No, I donât know why they named the ships with both their first names and then their last name. Yes, it could have been the Ted and the Ryan. But not for their original selves, apparently. At least, thatâs what the kids back on Earth told me.
All the conspirators were justifiedâme included. But instead of staying to help the other crazy survivors, I snuck aboard the first ship: the TedRyan. I was not going to perish on the fire and brimstone weâd caused ourselves.
Thatâs my theory anyway: we caused it ourselves.
âLou, if thatâs really our sister out there. I-if sheâs dead, what will come of us?â Wrench murmurs, turning to face me. Her features are overdrawn with fear.
This isnât our last journey, I promise. I rest my hand on her shoulder and return my gaze to the screen. Even if it is our last journey, it wasnât half bad. We survived three years out here.
Crackle.
The whole room goes silent at the sudden sound. Are we picking up static or something more? I canât help my interest now. I wouldnât mind if theyâre alive out there.
KsssshâŚsustained a great amount of damage. If anyoneâs out thereâŚkssssshâŚHelp! Oh godâŚkssssh.
I like to take my SOS calls with a grain of salt. Whateverâs on the other end of that call could just be dramatics. In my hometown, the calls were often just dramatics. Theyâd panic you for nothing.
KsssshâŚksssh.
A scream passes over. Then growling. Itâs followed by another scream, and then the transmission seems to repeat. The hissed message gets to the scream again, but our Commander shuts it down before the scream can end.
Okay, Iâll admit thatâs got my heart pounding. We might die after all.
âHow shall we proceed, sir?â Aceâs voice is powerful in the silence.
Our Commander leans back, takes a step down to the main floor, and then laughs. Itâs humorless.
It reminds me more of a cough. At least the manâs relatable. Any of us would react the same if we were him. Right now, Iâm very glad Iâm not.
âWe have no way of knowing when that message was sent, do we?â Ace continues to lead, as though heâs suddenly in command. He is second in command, but thatâs hardly relevant. He always needs to be in control. Though the crew seems uncomfortable answering questions from a shirtless man.
âSheâs our sister.â The Commander finally meets our anxious stares. âWeâre going in.â
âI canât recommend that,â Ace immediately dismisses the Commanderâs words.
Bad idea. Though, Iâve always liked how outspoken Ace is. Heâs not a follower; he doesnât do the chain of command.
The Commander grabs Ace by the throat, tightening his fingers into his flesh. âDid I ask your opinion?â He spits into Aceâs stern face. âThis is my ship, and I will send a team to investigate. In fact, you seem awfully eager. A generous sacrifice, Team Lead.â The Commander keeps his hold on Ace as he spins to inspect the rest of us.
To my horror, Wrench raises her hand.
âIf he goes, so do I,â she stammers.
Brave and stupid. Poor thing.
âGood girl.â Our Commander beckons her towards him, finally releasing Ace.
Ace stumbles back a few steps only to glare at Wrench. He may not always treat her well, but she has a certain charm even he canât resistâgrease slick and all.
âWhere are our last two? The team is almost balanced. A leader, an engineerâŚa pilot?â
I doubt anyone will raise their hands. Hell, I know I wonât.
But someone forces her way past me.
At my resistance to move, she turns a rigid glare on me. If Iâm honest, Iâve never bothered to learn the name of every person on this ship. There are nearly ten thousand of us and learning ten names is hard for me.
But she seems to know me. Her fist clamps around my wrist, and she raises it along with hers.
Excuse me?!
I struggle against her grip, praying the Commander hasnât seen us yet, but it seems my luck has finally sputtered out. His eyes dart towards us as she opens her wide mouth.
âWeâre all you need, sir,â she announces.
âA perfect balance indeed. A leader, an engineer, a pilot, and a louse.â Our Commander points us to join the others.
âHeâll be great bait,â she retorts, snorting.
This is not how I saw my death playing out. I was planning to go out with a bang. Maybe Iâd hijack a bomb in the middle of an alien shootout and sacrifice myself to take out their ship. Instead, I might run screaming from an alien monster and die as bait.
Hooked. Lined. Sunk. Is that how fishing metaphors work? I wouldnât know, fishing wasnât my sport. I glance at Wrench, whoâs staring up at Ace, and then realize his gaze is on mine. His brow is furrowed, low enough to darken his glare. I guess I wonât die running from a monster; I guess heâll kill me first.
âDonât die on me,â he mutters. âIâm not done with you yet.â
âWouldnât dream of it,â I retort, twisting towards the pixelated screen again.
If there really is anyone left on our sister ship, I hope theyâre fairing better than those we left on Earth.
This novel does not follow the usual patterns. It is technically a Space Opera, but while conforming to one of the usual plot lines, it has a mood and a style all its own.
This is not your average space mission. The ship is a rambling wreck called ÂÂÂTedRyan, and the crew and passengers are a conglomeration of misfits lucky enough to escape the global conflagration that is destroying Earth. The hero is a stowaway: a skinny former firefighter called Lou, Thatâs short for âLouse.â Everybody hates him for sneaking on the ship while their own relatives were left to die. The problem is, Lou believes them, which sets up his inner conflict.Â
Nobody is completely sane, and paranoia is the survival skill of the day. With this kind of setup, donât expect a clear-cut conflict. The physical action occurs the way battles probably seem to most soldiers: brief flashes of action and wide-ranging emotion, details missing or forgotten, with sudden changes of fortune, often unexplained.Â
It is the same with the Sci-Fi setting. The worldbuilding is wide in scope but vague in detail at some points, crystal clear in others. The prerequisite hi-tech stuff is there, but very much in the background most of the time. The artificial intelligences seem as mixed up as the humans, so they count more as characters than tech. Coincidence drives the plot much more than science.Â
In this story, the emotional subtext is whatâs going on. Your clues to the eventual outcome of the tale come from the feelings of the characters rather than how the battle is progressing. The story arc is concerned with the development of the attitudes of the secondary characters towards Lou, and how he reacts to the changing atmosphere as he takes on the role of reluctant hero to this band of weirdos.Â
It is a tale of redemption and forgiving, especially forgiving yourself. Despite all the mayhem, destruction and failure, a gleam of humanity wriggles through.
Recommended for Sci-Fi fans who like interesting characters and relationships and arenât upset if the science doesnât tick all the boxes.Â