Serpents' Teeth

By Rob Shelsky

An excerpt:

The noise was horrendous. The clamor of officers’ cries to keep fighting, the anguished screams of the bleeding dismembered, the shouted pleas of those drowning, the endless cacophony of the British cannons, and the resulting bursts of explosions—all combined to overwhelm Jacques. He clamped calloused palms over his ears. He closed his eyes. Jacques tried to shut out all the horror, strived to will away the awful sounds.

Mon mort! It was his time to die, was his sudden realization, his unbidden, most unwanted revelation. Jacques tried to be resolute in the face of this ultimate confrontation—his own personal ending. Still, he just couldn’t summon up the necessary strength. Jacques couldn’t halt the visceral fear flooding into his gut, or stop it from turning his insides to ice water.
Eh bien, he thought. So there was no palliative for this final malady of life, no cure for his terror of death, but death itself.

Jacques finally opened unwilling eyes upon the still-dreadful panorama. He let his hands drop to his sides in a silent gesture of abject surrender. The tumult assaulted him once more. Trying to ignore it all, with knees trembling, Jacques prepared to spring, to vault the railing and fling himself overboard into the consuming ocean.

It would be to his own probable death he knew, for he couldn’t swim, not a blessèd stroke.
Then, an eerie light manifested in the sea, deep beneath him. He stared down through murky waters at the expanding boil of green radiance. A submerged glow ascended there, a viridian bubble of lurid effervescence, one that grew in size and sickly brightness even as it rose, neared the sea’s turbulent surface.

“Pour l’amour de Dieu!” he cried. Making the sign of the cross, Jacques took a fearful step back. Yet, still he stared down into the rising mystery.

Now he could make out the form of an occupant in the bubble, the ephemeral shape of a beautiful, but exotic-looking woman. She floated in the center of that emerald sphere. She turned her head, looked up at him with wine-dark eyes. They sparkled with the promise of all sorts of exciting things. The woman smiled. Pallid pink lips parted to reveal whitest teeth, razor-sharp...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rob Shelsky
• Release date: Oct 6, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301390151

Rob Shelsky

Rob Shelsky is an avid and eclectic writer, and averages about 4,000 words a day. He has several novels to his credit and two anthologies, with two romances out now, a Regency romance, Verity, along with the sequel, Faith, and soon to come, a time-travel romance.Rob has written science fiction articles for such magazines as The Internet Review of Science Fiction, numerous articles for AlienSkin Magazine, Neometropolis, Midnight Street (UK), Doorways, and other publications. Rob has had short stories published with Jim Baen’s Universe, Aberrant Dreams, AlienSkin, Gateway SF, Fifth Dimension, Continuum SF, Sonar4, Uncial Press, Planetary Stories, Pulp Spirit Magazine, Sex & Murder, and many more. He has a novella coming out in early 2010 with Aberrant Dreams Magazine’s first hardcover edition anthology, The Awakening. Rob’s novella, Avenger Of The People, will appear there alongside the works of such sci-fi greats as Alastair Reynolds, Ian Watson, Jana Oliver, Robert Madle, and just so many others. There is even an introduction by Jack McDevitt.Rob has a short story, Green Waters, now out with Sonar4’s Phase Shift anthology, and a paranormal story, Light On The Moor, coming out with Smashwords and Amazon.com.Now, Rob Shelsky is not only a writer, but a contributing editor for Currate.com travel articles, as well as being a reviewer for Novelspot. He is also a resident science fiction columnist for AlienSkin Magazine.Although widely traveled and continuing to travel, Rob now lives in North Carolina. He enjoys contemplating ideas for new stories while watching the sunsets over the mountains and sipping a glass of red wine, preferably a decent Merlot.Oh and check out this site for my Smashword books:Ebookswelove.com

Book preview

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SERPENTS’ TEETH

By

Rob Shelsky

SMASHWORDS EDITION

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PUBLISHED BY:

GKRS on Smashwords

SERPENTS’ TEETH

Copyright © 2011 by Rob Shelsky

Cover Illustration Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

Public Domain

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Smashwords Edition License Notes:

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

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DEDICATION

There is one person I’d especially like to thank. I owe him so much.

George Kempland

I wish to acknowledge you for your loyalty, dedication, mountains of help, and always just being there for me. Again, thank you, so very much.

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Serpents’ Teeth

By

Rob Shelsky

"Yes, sir, the Avenger! A good name!" muttered Captain Nemo, crossing his arms.

—Jules Verne

Like some treacherous flower blooming, a flash of yellow light blossomed from the enemy ship. The dull boom of yet another explosion echoed out over heaving waves. There was the inevitable shrill whistling. Then came the sound of shredding, the harsh rending of coarse fabric, as an iron ball shot through the canvas mainsail.

Jacques Saint-Pierre couldn’t begin to guess what state the sail was now in, because roiling clouds of smoke from the Vengeur du Pueple’s own guns had lifted into a ponderous white-gray fog, an obscuring layer. Most of the cannons from which the smoke had belched were now silent. They were below the new waterline, drowned, along with many of their unfortunate gunners. Still, those obstinate vapors lingered. They clung to the ship in a smoky shroud, as if loath to depart from the tragic scene.

The desperate duel with the British man-o’-war, the HMS Brunswick, had gone on for a gut wrenching, four hours. Still, the English ship fired steadily, many of its 74 guns trained upon the stricken Vengeur Du Peuple. Jacques felt his ship had put up a good fight, a brave, even heroic one…perhaps.

Despite this, the seas now crumbled over the Vengeur’s decks in frothing waves of icy green, invading combers fringed with greedy talons of spreading white foam. These raced everywhere, clutched at everything. The French craft wallowed, helpless, and crippled, as the dark waters of the chill Atlantic washed over her with a mounting impunity.

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