Eleuthera

By Ralph Ewig

5 Stars *****
Don't Fear the Reaper

I highly recommend this book. I couldn't put it down!

On one level, this is pure space opera. It's an exciting adventure with a flawed hero who is so very human that I couldn't help but root for him, a heroine I could really identify with, and a truly villainous villain who would surely have been twirling his mustache if he had one. A couple of times at the beginning of the book, I actually found myself hoping the hero would be even more of an arrogant jerk pilot than he already was, just to get the villain's goat. Before long, with the help of his super cool mutant sidekick, our hero is foiling villainous plots.

On another level, it's hard science fiction, and a lot of serious thought has been put into making the world a believable extension of the real world, and the real world's science and social development. The descriptions of how the starship's jump drive works were epiphanous. Many science fiction books present FTL stardrive as requiring a human mind to make it work, usually shown with cyborg implants, but this novel actually presents a theory of how a human mind is necessary to the process, a theory that makes perfect, elegant sense and at the same time is presented in the form of incredible fight scenes on alien worlds that are sure to get your blood pumping. The mutant and biomech cultures both evolved in a way that will please fans of hard sf who might not normally read space opera. This society's political and legal systems were original, well-thought-out, workable, and logical extensions of how democracy might develop in the future. This book is in the hard sf tradition of science fiction written by scientists, the author being an engineer in the space industry.

This book can stand alone as a story, but it's clearly the beginning of a series, in the "ends at a beginning" sort of way. I can't wait to read the next installments of this adventure, and see how this delicious cast of characters gets on.

By Erin Lale - Editor of Time Yarns
_________________________________________________

4 stars ****
Eleuthera is Science Fiction brimming with fascinating ideas and an exciting story

I wasn't sure what to expect from this novel as I dove into the opening Prologue. Clearly there were big ideas at work here.

And then you turn the page and the story immediately grabs you. Many stories try to immerse you in a distant future Earth and universe, while getting bogged down in the process. I can tell you Ralph Ewig's Eleuthera creates and immerses you in this new future universe very effectively. However, this new world building doesn't detract or slow down the character development, intimate personal relationships, or the exciting science fiction tale that he wants to tell. In no time at all you are following the new pilot named Rascor Griffin as he begins piloting the liner SANSSOUCI. Before you can catch your breath the world of "jSpace" becomes a central focal point of the novel as we begin to learn how it allows humans to travel nearly instantly around the universe.

This is the kind of hard science fiction story that successfully makes you care about its characters and protagonists in a way that fans of Clarke, Vinge, Asimov, Heinlen and other classic science fiction writers should really enjoy.

Rascor gets himself caught up in a complex and deadly plot involving jSpace and the potential for a form of life after death. Intricately woven together, these futuristic and seemingly fantastical plot elements are made quite believable and realistic, allowing the story to move toward its very exciting finale.

Eleuthera is a novel I can unreservedly recommend to readers who enjoy their science fiction loaded with cool, believable, futuristic concepts and an exciting and fun story to read. I highly recommend this novel.

By Brad Blake - Author: Blue Third - Citlalli and the Destroyer

• Language: English
• Publisher: One Hand Publishing
• Release date: Apr 18, 2011
• ISBN: 9780983282167

Ralph Ewig

Born and raised in Western Europe, Ralph Ewig immigrated to the US in 1992 at the age of twenty. He has lived in both the Seattle and Los Angeles metropolitan areas, and holds three degrees in the field of aeronautics and astronautics from the University of Washington. To date, he has worked as a musician, a roadie, a lumberjack, a vineyard apprentice, and with many government and commercial space organizations.

Book preview

Praise for Eleuthera

Eleuthera is a novel of ideas ... you won't regret buying a ticket.

- Matt Bille, The First Space Race

Eleuthera is science fiction loaded with cool, believable, futuristic concepts ... highly recommended!

- Brad Blake, "Blue Third"

An exciting adventure with a flawed hero who is so very human … I couldn't put it down!

- Erin Lale, Editor of "Time Yarns"

Eleuthera is a great read; nicely done!

- Eric Bobinsky, Terasphere

ELEUTHERA

by Ralph Ewig

Published by One Hand Publishing at Smashwords.

Printing History:

1st Edition (ebook), February 2011

Copyright 2011 by Ralph Ewig

Cover Art by Ralph Ewig

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 recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

One Hand Publishing

http://www.onehandpublishing.com/

ISBN: 978-0-9832821-6-7

Library of Congress Number: 2011901409

One Hand Publishing Index: 05-3-01-052011

For all the people I’ve met

who showed me another piece of the puzzle

that is myself.

ELEUTHERA

Prologue

Being endless, the concept of space loses its meaning. Being limitless, time itself knows no time. An endless number of worlds revolving around an endless number of stars, a billion beings coming into existence and vanishing again in the blink of an eye: the place we call the universe. Trying to grasp an understanding of the impossible to hold, we give it a name, symbols, laws. We create models to simplify the complex, turning the beautifully simple into something much more complicated. Life evolves parallel to awareness, and once in a while a sentient mind spreads its wings to engage in the pursuit of knowledge. Imagination is born, creating art that enhances imagination in turn.

The body is limited in its ability to move, but the mind is free to roam uncountable places. Then, considering its beauty, the sentient might start to love the universe, but never will the universe love the sentient in return. And so the being struggles to make the world acknowledge its existence, to break that cruel indifference towards life or death. Although this struggle is doomed to failure, once in millennia there might be a small deed setting off a chain of events that shatters the known state of things. However, even then nature shows nothing but indifference, even towards its own destruction. The person standing on a hill at night shaking his fists and cursing the stars is cursing something that cannot hear, and his efforts are in vain.

From nowhere it had come, to nowhere it was going; traversing the tesseract of space-time, searching with infinite patience. It had crossed galaxies at the threshold of being born and stars at the verge of destruction. It was more ancient than any star in the universe and still younger than any star yet to be born. And sometimes it had encountered the most complex shape of nature: sentient life. Then it had abandoned its passive state to deliver what it carried – for better or for worse.

Chapter ONE

The clanking noise as the cabin door slammed shut had something menacing and final about it, it seemed to Rascor as he tried to get more comfortable in his seat. All the way from the check in terminal to the gate he had felt the chills of apprehension going down his back. It wasn’t that he was afraid of what was to come, it just seemed that the time of play was finally over and he felt his shoulders dragged down by the weight of the responsibility he was about to accept. More then ten years he had trained and prepared for this; they had taught him about the technology he was to handle, the procedures involved, and also had given him a chance to glimpse part of the beauty of the jump experience, but none of that helped him now to get over the haunting sense of apprehension holding him in such a thorough grip. Also, nobody had explained the basic dos and don’ts while being aboard a commercial shuttle trip. All around him everybody was busily getting comfortable, adjusting seats, fluffing cushions; it seemed everybody else felt okay. He just wished he could be as worry free and relaxed as they were.

Would you care for a snack, sir? the friendly attendant interrupted his thoughts, while shoving a tray full of plasticized pseudo-food under his nose.

Uhm, neg – not right now, thanks.

First time around, isn’t it? Her voice was showing sympathy at his nervous appearance.

Is it that obvious?

Pretty much, she smiled at him, do you want something for the zero g part? You know, they stopped using barf bags about two years ago.

No thanks, really, Rascor replied with some indignation at this insult to his professional pride.

‘Why did that stupid chick have to embarrass him in front of everybody?’ he thought annoyed.

Here are some wafers; you don’t have to take them if you don’t feel like it, but hang on to them anyway just in case – you might feel like it later. After handing him two little plastic bags in which the wafers were sealed, she walked on carrying her professional smile with her, as well as a nicely shaped bumper.

‘How come all flight attendants are pretty and stupid?’ it worked in Rascor’s mind. A harmonious chime sounded over the public address system, loud enough to even cut through his brooding thoughts.

Welcome to Trenton Star Lines! We are happy to serve you today and will assist you with any need you might have. Feel free to talk to any of our friendly staff members if something is not to your liking. We will start the lift in approximately five minutes. Lifting time is going to be thirty minutes, once we are on our way. In this brief time we will cover over 40,000 kilometers. A warning will sound three minutes as well as right before zero-g time. We expect a smooth ride with minimal turbulence along the way. Please pay attention now to the cabin displays, which will show a brief summary of the safety features onboard. We wish you a nice lift and an enjoyable journey on your connecting flight. Thank you, as always we want you to know that at TSL we appreciate your business.

Appreciate my butt, Rascor mumbled under his breath, while taking a careful bite of the wafer. Why did they have to ‘improve’ the taste of these things by stuffing them with artificial flavoring? The little wonder piece of chemical engineering tasted like a teenager looked in puberty, it couldn’t quite yet decide on what to be. Watching the small display before him, his sense of worries came back worse than before, while pinhead sized nonpersons were following the prepared escape route, herded on by a computerized lighting path system like a bunch of scared cattle. Somehow he had the feeling that his life wouldn’t be the same anymore. It was hard to put a finger on it. Of course he knew that today was going to be a big turning point for him, but somehow it seemed to him that the coming days held a lot more for him in store than just his first flight as a piloting crew member. Fortunately for him, he only suspected; he didn’t know.

As promised they arrived at the top lifting station only thirty minutes later. He was glad he had chosen rather tight fitting clothes. Zero-g could help you to some interesting insights if people were not appropriately dressed for it. He had another forty-five minutes until he had to report in on the SANSSOUCI. Thinking about how to kill some time, he realized the relative lightness of his body. Here at the station they kept a comfortable standard 1g – just a little less than on his home world.

Then an idea came to his mind what to do with his remaining time: he would try to see the stars with his own eyes! Making his way between rushing business men and crying children, he headed to the observation lounge. The lifting station was on the night-side of Halcyon right now, making it a good time to enjoy the view. Around him the heavy carpeting and luxurious colors gave an impression of almost decadent style. If everything had been going as planned he would have come up with the rest of the crew and been on board the ship a long time ago, but since he had been a last minute substitute for Ferguson, he had been notified with little notice, rushed out of the academy grounds and stuffed into the first ground lift available. It had been his luck that this had been a first class ride. Still, the surrounding luxury made him feel self-conscious and uncomfortable. At times he felt the urge to walk up to these people, grab them by the throat and shake them so they would wake up and truly see the world around them – actually see what they lived like. Maybe that was just due to him being used to more sober surroundings though.

It took him only five minutes to find the observation deck, besides countless snack machines also the location of the ‘Star Club’, an endless circular counter going all around the lifting station, where rather sour faced bartenders tried to work on their tips in an almost heroic effort to take from the rich and give to the poor – namely themselves. The lustrous shine of the polished mahogany counter, the sparkling of polished crystal glasses, small groups of people sitting and talking over their drinks at the hexagonal alabaster tables placed generously throughout the room, all that caught Rascor’s eye when he entered through the automatically opening door, but none of it held his attention. All of it paled against the beauty of the nighttime sky visible along the outer wall of the room. Entranced, he walked towards the incredible view. The whole wall of the outer section was made of a perfectly polished, clear material. Even the floor sections, which extended to the outside every hundred meters or so, were made of the same substance; stepping out on the invisible platform gave the illusion of stepping into space itself. Nothing appeared to be underneath him, other than the luminous planet below, its atmosphere gently transformed into a glowing crescent by the red light of Gliese – its parent star – shining on the day sight currently opposite to his view. It floated free in space like the precious jewel that it was, while the connection through the silver shining navel chord of the lifting tunnel gave him a reference point to truly appreciate its scale; it was glorious. It was also deeply disturbing; a light surge of nausea caught Rascor, in spite of the wafers that he had eaten, and he quickly glanced back into the room, making sure the bar was still there, with all the people, the room and the lifting station still attached to it.

A beautiful sight, isn’t it?

He turned around and an angel appeared out of the emptiness of the universe. Tall, with the silver blonde mane of a lion falling lightly on her shoulders, she looked dazzling, surrounded by the corona of the glowing planet illuminating her face.

It sure is, he replied, not sure what in particular he was referring to.

Some people are afraid to step out here, she continued, it makes them realize their own importance in nature: none. She was looking at the stars alongside him, a dreamy smile upon her full lips. It’s people who give importance to people. Nature doesn’t care for its occupants. It’s indifferent and being so, it is ultimately just.

Rascor didn’t know what or how to answer to this, so he simply looked out at the stars with her, contemplating the beauty of both.

Where are you heading? You don’t look like the usual crowd around here, she asked him.

The SANSSOUCI – I’m part of the crew. he replied, finding the nerve to look straight at her for the first time. Kris Chandra, she said holding her hand out, palm towards him as was the custom on Halcyon.

Rascor Griffin, my pleasure. Her hand felt cool and hot at the same time as he pressed his palm slightly against hers, returning the gesture of friendship.

What is your reason for being up here?

I … a chime originating from a golden wristband made of fine metallic threads woven in an intricate pattern made her pause. Oops sorry, but I need to go! She embraced him in a warm hug. It was nice to meet you. An instant later she disappeared through the screen, mingling with the crowd.

Rascor was thoroughly startled; he could still feel her light touch on him, still smell the faint scent of perfume in the air. Why had she done that? He was starting to have a weird feeling again. That feeling turned into burning anger, when he realized that his money was no longer where it was supposed to be.

***

A short time later, a still fuming Rascor Griffin presented his ID at the gate. He hadn’t even attempted to notify officials. It was hopeless anyway, and he despised the thought of a bunch of bureaucrats laughing at him for being another stupid nubie.

Rascor Griffin, I’m the substitute pilot for the SANSSOUCI.

Just a moment please, the clerk replied, verifying his identification. You are cleared to board at any time, Pilot. The next shuffle leaves in ten minutes, Terminal B. Have a good trip.

Rascor just snorted and took off in the indicated direction, leaving behind a confused looking clerk who wondered what he had done to offend his customer.

Chapter TWO

The shuttle trip took only a few minutes and Rascor hardly noticed anything on the way. He was still too upset about his own stupidity – what a messed up world!

As soon as the shuffle had completed docking and the artificial gravity kicked back in, he rose from his seat and left the small spacecraft to step out, once again, into the dazzling sight of luxury that didn’t care how much it cost as long as it would fit the interior design palette. The SANSSOUCI was the flagship of the entire fleet Trenton Star Lines ran their impressive business on. It was actually quite a small ship, considering the fact that it was capable of reaching almost any place sat foot on by humans so far, but it served only a very elite group of customers, who were able to afford its luxurious service and the price that went along with that. Aside from this exclusive group of customers, so people said, as well as the commercial slogan, even Alexander Trenton himself used it as the most convenient way of travel available.

Rascor was inclined to believe it, seeing the interior now. It had become a habit for wealthy people to permanently live aboard ships such as the SANSSOUCI and to conduct their various affairs from there. Also teenagers changing into their twenties usually were sent on their ‘Wanderjahr’. This was an old custom revived in the age of commercial space transport: by traveling across the galaxy and seeing different people and their customs on various worlds, they were to gather experience and insight into their own nature and values; although only very few parents were able to financially support the Wanderjahr of their kids on a vessel such as the SANSSOUCI. Also, it had to be said that most of the spoiled brats thought of their time aboard more like a never-ending party and that usually was what it turned out to be. Only a few of them really took the trouble to leave the ship once in a while and visit a world in person. Why should they, if life on board was so much more entertaining? There were hundreds of different people on the ship from all kinds of cultural backgrounds, providing opportunity to a hundred possible combinations of pastimes such as sports, arts, social life, or simple sexual conquest. Life was very fresh and wild still when you were in your teens with a playground such as this. Some people said that this was the real reason why aging businessmen liked to make camp onboard a starliner as well.

‘This is going to be my home for the next couple of years,’ Rascor thought, ‘and actually I think I picked it rather well.’ Sure, here too was the almost stifling beauty of heavy carpets and elaborate wall paneling right next to the constant smell of wealth and power, but Rascor was confident he would find the crew quarters less overdressed than the passenger area. Besides, his job was a rather well paid one, so he might as well get used to a little upper lifestyle. Walking with the assured step of a person who knows he is in his own territory, he set forward to the check in desk in the foyer, only to collide rather heftily with an ill looking person in his late forties rushing around the corner in what was a visibly agitated state of mind.

You damned idiot! Cant you watch where you’re walking with your clumsy feet? he barked at Rascor.

Rascor, upset enough already from the events that had taken place earlier, wasn’t exactly in the mood for a polite apology. Besides, it hadn’t been him who was rushing around corners.

I don’t know who you are sir, but I think you better pay attention where you’re walking yourself, he said with hardly concealed anger in his voice.

Or else what, you little punk? Get your stupid butt out of my way and pay attention the next time!

People started turning their heads, a dark-haired girl dressed in the official TSL uniform, who had been working at the concierge desk, was rushing in their direction.

"Oh, excuse me, Rascor growled and then rammed his almost two hundred pound body into the wiry frame of the man, bullying him out of the way. Who the hell did the guy think he was, Member Trenton himself? The gaunt man had the breath knocked out of him and stumbled back a few paces, his face turning red in anger but unable to utter a sound for the lack of air in his lungs. Having witnessed the scene, the petite concierge covered her mouth with her hands looking like the end of the world had just come upon her. With purposefully casual movements Rascor walked to the polished counter, laid his ID on the top and said: I’m Pilot Griffin, checking in. Do you have somebody to show me to my quarters? And maybe you happen to know who that jerk behind me is, he didn’t introduce himself by name."

Ahm, that jerk as you named him, the concierge answered in a low voice that made sure nobody else could hear her, happens to be Counselor David Jadro, Member Trenton’s private secretary. Then, handing his ID back to him, she added with a nervous smile: welcome aboard Pilot.

‘Why do things like that always happen to me?’ Rascor thought while he felt the hot, angered stare of the second highest ranking company official between his shoulder blades.

I want you to report to my suite in exactly ten minutes, Pilot! The ‘Pilot’ sounded more like an insult than the honorific it was usually meant to be. Without another word Jadro rushed off in the direction where he had been heading. A collective sigh of held breath came from all TSL personnel that had witnessed the scene. The concierge said, still in a confidential tone of voice:

You did by accident what just about everybody else on our staff has been fantasizing about since this guy showed up. Unfortunately I doubt that you will be around for long,

It wasn’t an accident, Rascor replied and starting walking towards the foyer exit leading from the passenger module to the SANSOUCI itself. The concierge stepped around her desk and hurried to walk along with him. After walking in silence for a while they came to a door marked ‘Staff Only’ and the girl pressed the thumb of her delicate right hand against a reader set into the door.

I will program the system with your imprints first thing when I’m back at the desk, she said in a shy voice. The door vanished without a sound into the wall.

Thanks, Rascor grunted under his breath. Walking next to such a shy being made him feel even more like the foolish elephant in the porcelain shop.

As he had expected, the part of the ship they now entered proved more functional in design and less opulent than the foyer of the passenger module through which he had first come aboard. The SANSOUCI consisted of the main ship itself, and two modules: one for cargo, the other for passenger accommodations. Each module had pressurized ‘shirt-sleeve’ junctions to the SANSOUCI itself, as well as several maintenance connections.

The corridor was covered in grayish felt from floor to ceiling and only single lights spaced every meter or so on alternating sides produced a splash of warmth and color. The sound of their steps was muffled and he could hear the flow of air regenerators together with the hum of other machinery at work. Underneath all that, he more felt than heard the deep vibrations of powerful engines. The budget for soundproof insulation had obviously been lower in the crew occupied SANSOUCI than in the passenger module where the customers dwelt, After they had walked through the silent corridors for a while and passed several cross sections, the girl stopped in front of one of the many identical doors. There was a small sign on it reading: ‘Smith Ferguson, Pilot’.

I’ll have that changed as soon as possible too, the girl said, a little more assured of herself now, because of Rascor’s docile behavior.

Sure, there’s no rush with that. Just do it whenever’s convenient.

Check, and hey, what I said earlier was for real. Nobody likes Jadro, so don’t worry about the crew.

Thanks I guess. Rascor replied without much enthusiasm, he’d rather forget about the whole thing instead of becoming some kind of shoe-in Robin Hood for the crew.

Welcome aboard again, Pilot. She said, this time her smile more genuine than professional.

I’ll see you around.

She opened the door for him and went her way.

***

The inside of his cabin was dominated by the same kind of sober functionality as the outside corridor had been. Nonetheless, or maybe because of it, he liked it immediately. To his surprise, his personal belongings had already been delivered and were waiting for him, piled up in the middle of the room. The whole of the small space was covered in thick black carpet; the walls were decorated with an intriguing play of light and shadow, slowly phasing through all colors of the visible spectrum. Amazed, he realized that he wasn’t able to find another door besides the one through which he had just entered. Where was he supposed to sleep? The furniture in the room consisted of a comfortable looking black suede sofa, two armchairs and a table. No desk, no bed, not even a shower!

What the …? he exclaimed.

Welcome home Pilot. I hope you like the arrangements I have chosen.

Rascor quickly glanced over his shoulders, but there was nobody else in the room. The voice was coming out of nowhere – and then he understood and he started laughing about his own slow wittedness.

Did I say something amusing? the voice sounded again.

Neg, he replied smiling, just a private joke. What’s your name babe?

Any one you would like to choose, answered the voice, now with a softer and definitely female timbre.

Well, in this case your name is Kris, because you remind me of a person I met recently – and be honored, she was very pretty. Although I hope I never catch you with your fingers in the cookie jar. He laughed again, the tension of the last events finally easing.

I’m afraid I didn’t understand that joke either, but your compliment is most flattering. If you described the person you named me after, I could create a holographic image as part of my personality module? she offered.

Neg, that’s check. It wouldn’t do justice to the picture I have in mind, so let’s just leave it at that.

As you wish.

Now do your trick and let some racks appear so I can unpack, and please show me where the bathroom is.

Instantly the room around him started changing, a clothes rack with hangers appeared in the wall to his right, while the seating group vanished and the left side of his room changed into a small but well furnished bathroom.

Wow, you’re amazing! he meant it; while the Artificial Personality interface to the ships computer wasn’t all that unusual, reconfigurable accommodations where a pretty high-end way of saving space. He had heard about AP controlled environments before, but never had he expected to find his own room animated with this hellishly expensive feature.

If you give me your uniforms, I will get them cleaned for you, Pilot. Just place them on the rack to your left. Kris said.

Hey, Rascor will do fine, at least as long as you’re watching me taking a pee, he joked while relieving himself.

Okay Rascor.

The program was really good. He thought he had heard just the right little bit of embarrassment in that