Recently discharged from the Aeronautical Expansion Defense and secretly suffering from PTSD, Vio Recarey arrives on the frontier world Obcasio II with nothing but the clothes on his back. All Vio wants is an opportunity to forge a life for himself in the wealthy city of New Luucrum, but with no money and no connections he instead quickly makes acquaintances in LowLuu, the vagabond city formed in the abandoned mining tunnels below New Luucrum.
When Vio saves the lives of an influential philanthropist and his wife, Vio seizes the opportunity he's been looking for, much to the disapproval of his LowLuu friends. This new lifestyle attracts complications, ones which set Vio on a path that anchors him to the planet, thrusting him into situations where his actions, or inactions, could have long lasting and grave circumstances for everyone on Obcasio. Vio begins to realize he's traded one life of loneliness and violence for another, and no matter how hard he tries, he can't outrun his trauma.
Recently discharged from the Aeronautical Expansion Defense and secretly suffering from PTSD, Vio Recarey arrives on the frontier world Obcasio II with nothing but the clothes on his back. All Vio wants is an opportunity to forge a life for himself in the wealthy city of New Luucrum, but with no money and no connections he instead quickly makes acquaintances in LowLuu, the vagabond city formed in the abandoned mining tunnels below New Luucrum.
When Vio saves the lives of an influential philanthropist and his wife, Vio seizes the opportunity he's been looking for, much to the disapproval of his LowLuu friends. This new lifestyle attracts complications, ones which set Vio on a path that anchors him to the planet, thrusting him into situations where his actions, or inactions, could have long lasting and grave circumstances for everyone on Obcasio. Vio begins to realize he's traded one life of loneliness and violence for another, and no matter how hard he tries, he can't outrun his trauma.
Vio opened his eyes, yet part of him remained still in the dream, in that memory, and even as his vision adjusted to the harsh sunlight, he wondered if that memory would truly ever release him.
The sun of Obcasio II bathed the shuttleâs cabin in red light, and while several passengers were marveling at the alien landscape, Vio was instead fixated on the sprawling settlement below. Surrounded on all sides by a coarse environment, the expanding town was no more than a cluster of state-of-the-art luxury high-rises, with the distant roof to roof air traffic buzzing about like flies. Civilian relocation had only been approved for Obcasio ten months prior and yet those that chose Obcasio followed suit with every other RecOp world. With space travel accelerating passengers incrementally into the future, that meant the first group to relocate to Obcasio had already spent years making the settlements look as much like Earth as possible.
Almost defeats the reason for making a life here, Vio thought. Opportunity to live on a new world but still letâs make sure we make it a carbon copy of the shithole we just left.
Not too far from the settlement Vio caught a glimpse of a domed structure, with several protruding pylons propelled into the sky. He recognized the design as a standard atmospheric regulator, one of five needed to maintain the planetâs manufactured environment that human settlers required. The way it had been explained to Vio was if one or two of them go offline then, within thirty years, the air would become unbreathable. So, long before the Obcasio system could be stripped of its resources or used as a potential beachhead for war, civilian scientists with lucrative IM Corp contracts arrived to terraform the surface. If any native lifeforms hid from the recon scanners, they likely didnât survive the metamorphosis of their ecosystem. Vio could relate.
The guy on the bottom never gets a say when the world is flipped upside down.
The shuttle aligned itself with the AED spaceport and began its approach. The passengers began collecting their things, but Vio remained still, lost in thought.
These pricks are going to give me hell, I know it. This whole tripâll be a waste if they decide to detain me. And then itâs straight back to Earth, to rations and the work lottery.
Fuck that.
As the shuttle touched down, Vio noticed two soldiers awaited them out on the tarmac, which was customary on a RecOp world as the passengersâ travel licenses would need scanned. Vio stood up, retrieved his duffel bag and tugged down on his torn jacket sleeve, slouching as he crossed the aisle.
Best not to draw attention. Just carry yourself like a civilian.
As the occupants began deboarding, an attendant outfitted with a white vest awaited everyone as they reached the hatch. Taking each passengerâs hand and placing them on a medwand, the attendant administered a quick inoculation. The small girl ahead of Vio yelled âouch.â
âWhat was that for?â she cried.
With little enthusiasm, the attendant muttered back to the child. âJust a routine cerebrospinal inoculation to prevent hydrocephalus, maâam.â
A puzzled look upon her face, the girl rubbed her finger and followed her mom outside.
Iâm with you, kid. I donât want to be hassled either.
Vio winced as he exited the shuttle, raising his hand to shield his eyes from the overhead sun. The three soldiers processing the passengers each wore a modified helmet to reduce exposure to the red sunlight, allowing them to scan licenses with no impairment. Vio squinted, trying to make sure he didnât bump into the girl and her mother in front of him as the line moved up.
âMom, why is it in the picture Trevor sent us he kind of looks like dad?â
Oh, I have to hear how she does this.
âItâs hard to explain, sweetheart,â The mother bit her lip. âItâs called time dilation. Basically, when you take a spaceship ride, the ship goes so fast itâs like youâre flying into the future.â
Probably the simplest way of explaining it.
The soldiers asked for their licenses while the mother juggled her bags. âAnd ever since your stepbrother got his new job and left to come here, weâve visited your grandparents, and then your aunt-â
âAnd we jumped into the future too many times and now Trevorâs old?â
âSomething like that.â
âCool.â Â
Once the soldiers cleared them both, the mother took her daughter by the arm and moved on.
Shit. My turn.
Vio could now see their ranking pips, or lack of in oneâs case. That meant that one was a private PVT, and the other a PV2, private second class. The closest soldier, the PV2, held out his hand. âLicense.â
Vio slid the small glass sleeve out of his standard, âno frillsâ ICO wristband, and offered it to the soldier.
The soldier scanned it with a slim instrument, then read the match on his tactical gauntlet. âVio Recarey?â
âYes, sir.â
âDuration of stay?â
âIndefinitely, sir.â
âReason for relocation?â
âNew opportunities, sir.â
The soldier eyed Vio up. âQuite decorous for a civilian, arenât you?â
Force of habit. Shit.
The PV2 pinched Vioâs jacket sleeve and raised it enough to expose a tattoo on his wrist. Upon seeing the body ink, the soldier keyed in a command on his gauntlet.
 And now heâs going to run the background check and-
âVio Recarey, Airman First Class.â
âHe outranks you, Kilmer,â The second soldier looked at Kilmerâs gauntlet display. âSorry, sir, but whatâs an A1C doing on a civilian shuttle?â
âYou donât have to address him as an officer, Hayden. Recarey here resigned his commission the day after the war ended.â Kilmer handed Vio back his sleeve. âCouldnât be bothered with the clean-up, shirker?â
âIâm not a shirker. I did my duty,â An image of a debris-blanketed deck appeared briefly in Vioâs mindâs eye, again trapped in that memory of his feet resting beside a severed hand. âAnd some things canât be cleaned up.â
Kilmer had no reply.
Hayden tried to lower his voice. âIf heâs former AED, shouldnât we buzz the sergeant?â
Kilmer sighed. âNo, because if this guy wants to throw his life away on this dust ball, let him. Rather that than waste Earth rations on him.â Kilmer stood back, pointing to the other passengers. âFollow them, shirker.â
Vio refrained from responding. He simply adjusted his bagâs shoulder strap and moved on. Throwing my life away? Huh. Never thought that to start living Iâd have to throw my life away, but whatever. No big loss.
Vio caught up with the group of fellow civilians as they eventually reached the spaceport gate. On the other side, a kiosk built into the spaceportâs perimeter wall was broadcasting an AED recruitment ad on repeat.
ââŚensure the future of your children and neighbors by joining us in Astronautical Expansion Defense! Be the first to see mankindâs future colonies side by side with the brilliant minds who prepare them! And with your courage and dedication we can safeguard civilizationâs interests from raiders and malefactors! Guaranteed work for life! Join today!â
As long as your interests align with theirs, that is.
 Vio and the passengers filed out into the settlement. The streets were composed of a cheap alloy, giving off a shine from the reflected daylight, but the constant and powerful crosswinds littered sand everywhere. The granules were colored navy blue and charcoal, a result of unique oxidation caused by the atmospheric regulators. As Vio trekked deeper into the town, the crunching of sand between his feet and the streets lessened, the central buildings tall enough to block most of the wind. He looked up at the neon and digital displays affixed to almost every inch of usable surface.
Yep. Just as obnoxious as back home.
As he navigated the streets, Vio noticed that most people sported headgear similar to what the soldiers wore, however some were more practical than others. The helmets women wore were designed to be more stylish, usually matching their entire ensemble. It wasnât just the women sporting the fancier pieces, though. Men as well were dressed in a fashion that spoke a certain truth to Vio.
This a very wealthy settlement.
Across the street Vio identified what seemed to be a bar or club and he decided fifteen minutes on the ground was more than enough time sober. He crossed the street and waltzed inside, the doorway scanners verifying he was unarmed.
Those are AED issue, Vio thought. What are they doing outside of the spaceport?
Vio felt all eyes on him as he creeped inside. The patrons, even the bartender, all were clothed in garments that carried a significant price tag, his own jacket likely costing a mere fraction of their garb.
At least I know theyâll have good booze.
Vio reached the bar and set his duffel bag down on the closest bar stool. âBourbon. Breegâs if you got it.â
The bartender snorted. âID?â
Vio hiked up his sleeve, slid his ICO band around and extended his arm for the bartender to scan his code.
â25? Bullshit. You donât look a day over 14, if that.â
â14! Are you crazy? Iâm about a foot taller than you, Iâve almost got a full beard going,â He pointed to his tattoo. âAnd I served two tours, pal.â
âI think this gentleman is new to Obcasio, Earl.â A young man, about Vioâs age, stood up from the table in the corner and joined Vio at the bar. Unlike the other patrons, the young man was dressed plainly, his outfit a mix of two different uniforms. He pointed at Vio. âProbably doesnât know about the planetâs axis yet.â
âWhat about it?â
âWell, Obcasioâs smaller than Earth, similar seasons, but due to the axial tilt, the years here are longer, so the calendarâs longer, and, wellâŚâ
âBy the time youâre a teenager youâre already a full-grown man?â
âBasically. Like dog years I guess. Short of it is people here follow the Obcasio calendar, not the Prime calendar.â The young man finished off his drink, then offered Vio his hand. âGary Manx, but everyone just calls me Router.â
âVio Recarey.â
The bartender put his scanner away. âWell, Mr. Recarey, until you have a New Luucrum issued ID, thereâs no bourbon for you here, Breegâs or otherwise.â
Vio locked eyes with the bartender.
The shit Iâve seen⌠the shit Iâve done⌠all for these assholes to sit here and judge me, and I canât even get a fucking drink. Iâm inclined to just-
âLetâs go, Vio.â Router slapped Vio on the shoulder. âBetter places to be.â
Vio took a deep breath, reached for his duffel bag, and followed Router out into the street, taking note of all the smug patrons enjoying his departure.
âTrust me, man, itâs not worth it,â Router said as they passed through the scanners. âLast year I saw a guy in there refuse to switch tables when one of those pompous couples came in.â They both reached the sidewalk. âNext day he was found stuffed into that disposal bin.â Router pointed down the alley where a large metal container sat next to a loading skiff. âSurface living carries a hefty fucking price, you know what I mean?â
âSurface living?â
Router wrinkled his brow. âDid you even bother to research this place before getting on that shuttle?â
âI spent the last two years flying troops into the mouths of hell and back. Didnât matter where I wound up, as long as it wasnât a battlefield or Earth.â
âYeah, but you were enlisted,â Router threw up a hood to cover his eyes from the sunlight as they passed through an intersection. âEarth would feed you, right? Set you up someplace with a stable life?â
âLiving on Earth is life support but itâs not a life. Rather take my chances here.â
âFair enough. Well, Vio Recarey, you can take your chances, as you say, mingling with the sanctimonious surface society, or, you can tag along with me back underground, live like a rebel.â
âDepends. Do I need a New Luucrum ID to get a drink?â
âNope.â
âWell, then lead the way.â
Router led them to where he had parked his cobbled together hover skiff, which was barely big enough to transport one person, let alone two. âMay be a bit cramped but it beats walking.â
Vio crouched down into the back, resting his bag in his lap. âWhy? How far is it?â
âWell, the formal entrance to the mines is about 75 kilometers out,â Router reached under the seat and retrieved his helmet, a minerâs hat modified with an extended brim and goggles. âThe New Luucrum passenger ramp isnât far, but I think a more scenic approach is called for. I mean, they donât call me Router for nothing.â Router sat down and powered up the skiff. âBattlefields, huh? Then this should be nothing.â
The skiff rocketed forward, propelling them both across the surface at a speed of 150 kph. New Luucrum quickly became a distant image as the transport zoomed over the sand dunes, the setting sun not as grating on Vioâs eyes but still radiant enough to illuminate the passing landscape.
âAre there any other settlements?â Vio shouted.
âA few, like Daable and Elliobrutt, but Daableâs only for the super-rich and Elliobruttâs pretty much a ghost town. And thereâs sporadic science outposts and whatnot but most of them are abandoned.â Router was bringing them closer to the atmospheric regulator Vio saw during his landing. âBut thatâs just the surface. Obcasioâs real populationâs down here.â
They were almost at the domed building. âRouter?â
âHang on.â
Just as Vio prepared for a fatal collision, the skiff descended into a narrow cave, its mouth located underneath the eastern edge of the regulator dome. Router threaded the transport through the passageway until it opened up into a vast cavern, the diameter close to five kilometers wide.
âWelcome to Lower Luucrum!â Router eased up on the throttle so Vio could soak it all in. âThis planet was a honeypot for cabidium, but once the bonanza dried up most of the miners and their corporate masters dusted off. Didnât bother to finish the hyperloop they had planned.â
Vio looked down at a commerce market, with people in mismatching uniforms or oversized garments swarming booth to booth. He could see high priced data devices and footwear exchanging hands. âWhere you finding this stuff?â
âISRU. In situ resource utilization? Youâre former army.â
âNavy, and I know ISRU. Make best of everything thatâs been shipped here, I get that. The mining equipment, making the helmets your own. IM Corp. has a whole reference packet weâre told to memorize. What I mean is if youâre all about recycling then whereâs that luxury junk coming from?â
âOh, well, people have their ways. Skyâs the limit down here in LowLuu, and unless youâre a total creep, people tend to live and let live. Better than the alternatives up top, trust me.â
Router descended the skiff to ground level and continued on down the streets of Lower Luucrum, all the while Vio took note of its inhabitants. Mothers playing with their children on fabricated balconies, teenagers hanging out on top of an abandoned distending drill, even older gentlemen having drinks while watching an old sparring match projected onto the tunnel wall. The population was just as crammed and destitute as on Earth.
The difference was they all looked happy.
âAlright, here we are.â Router decelerated, parking his skiff behind an old rusted foremanâs tower. âHome sweet home.â
Vio climbed out, sighing with relief as his legs were no longer cramped.
Router tossed his helmet onto the skiff seat and skipped up the towerâs metal staircase. He slid the data sleeve out of his dented ICO band and swiped it across the door sensor, Router passing inside as the hatch slid open. âExcuse the mess, the cleaning array is non-existent.â
Maps and schematics hung from the walls, deactivated scout drones sat lifeless in the corner, and empty containers of standard rations littered the floor, but the first thing Vio actually noticed as he walked inside Routerâs abode was the still form of a nude female laying on Routerâs makeshift bed. âUmmâŚâ
Router looked over and stammered. âOh, shit, yeah, well, I uh⌠yep, thatâs Monica. Sheâs my⌠well, live and let live, right? Sheâs my âlove assistant.ââ He stepped across the room and pulled a sheet over Monicaâs artificial skin. âFound her on a transport dock up above two months back. She was marked defective.â
âDefective?â
âYeah, sheâs supposed to have seven personality options but only nurturing mode works. I guess a sexbot only capable of love wasnât really sought after in New Luucrum.â Router shrugged. âI know I should be ashamed, right, but⌠I donât know. I like to hear a caring voice before I go to sleep. Itâs⌠soothing.â He cleared his throat. âIs that so wrong?â
âNo, I guess not,â Vio dropped his duffel bag onto the couch. âWe all cope one way or another.â
Or fail trying.
âExactly. Well, I promise to keep her deactivated while youâre crashing here. In the mean time, do you want me to show you around more? Thereâs a little place not too far away where the ladies arenât quite as artificial. And, your penchant for bourbon? I know a place where-â
âActually, Iâm a bit worn out. Tried sleeping on the shuttle butâŚâ
âNo, I get it. Yeah, man, snooze away. Iâm going to track down a buddy of mine who has a lead on fresh trail boots, because mine?â Router lifted his left foot, showing a hole in the sole. âTheyâre done. So Iâll leave you be.â
âThanks, Router.â Vio offered his hand.
âYouâre welcome, Recarey.â Router shook his hand then made for the door.
âWhy?â Vio said. âWhy help me? How do you know Iâm not a psychotic?â
âI donât know, maybe you are. But my brother served. 14th battalion. A tour on Rebta Prime. I promised he could stay with me when he was done, butâŚâ Router sighed. âGuess Iâm trying to make good on that promise.â
Vio nodded.
Once Router had left, Vio slumped onto the couch. He laid his head down, staring at the covered form on Routerâs bed.
âI like to hear a caring voice before I go to bed, Itâs soothing.â
I wouldnât know. Vio closed his eyes. Maybe one day. For now, all I can do is roll the dice and hope I donât wake up screaming again.
I read this story all the way through without stopping. No notes, no pauses for reflection. I just enjoyed the tale and the characters.
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I must admit, there were times when I was reading that I said, âWait a minute. Thatâs not right. You canât do that!â And you canât do that in a Space Opera. But this isnât just a Space Opera. Itâs a three-part novel. Each part could be an opera in itself. But put together, they are so much more.Â
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Oh, there is enough Space Opera material to satisfy the ardent fan. A galaxy of plundered planets with deteriorating societies, abandoned by rapacious interstellar corporations. Wild-West type settings with all the cobbled-together hi-tech gadgets you can scrounge. Slums and abandoned machinery and bordellos and bars with all their denizens. And, of course, a smattering of the ultra-rich feeding off the suffering of all. Lots of conflict, lots of action, and more than enough death and destruction. Life is cheap on the Outer Planets.
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This situation just cries for someone like Vio, a romantic former military pilot â with all the ensuing mental baggage â who is a tragedy waiting for a place to happen. But he is the opposite of a tragic hero. They turn their backs on society, go their own paths, and fail in the end. He goes his own way, but he always tries to do his best for society. It takes him three stories and twenty years or more to get there, but finally he makes it in the same manner he has lived his life: sort of, after a fashion and always on his own terms.Â
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But along the way the author has time to show us some up-close portraits of people trying to do their best in an unfair world. Vio himself is an in-depth study of PTSD. Most of the secondary characters are rounded and sympathetic. Even the less-than savoury ones. Who, come to think of it, constitute most of the cast.Â
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This novel is mainstream Sci-Fi masquerading as Space Opera and giving us all the advantages of both. Highly recommended.