Terosan Tales

By Edward Thomson

Four short stories set in the same universe which are the beginnings of a larger tapestry of interwoven stories.

Terosan Prime is a planet-spanning city that sits at the heart of the Terosan Galactic Republic. A democratic power that spans numerous star systems with majority control of their galaxy. Their power is only rivaled by the large consortium of corporate planest who are collectively known as Kyopix. The latter were once wealthy Terosan merchants but broke away to form their own “civilization” with a set of rules that's less restrictive. Trade between the two is prosperous and the hostility is mostly confined to heated negotiations.

The gaps between these two powers is full of independent star systems; they are the unconquered, the resistive, the destroyed, or the unknown. Living free but sandwiched between two super-powers does not make for easy living.

This is a universe of empires, computer hackers, gamblers, merchants, nomads, killers and faster-than-light travel.

Stories in this volume: "Deck 20", "Fallen Gods of Cheam", "The Pirate Queen", "Gnir's Raid".

• Language: English
• Publisher: Edward Thomson
• Release date: May 17, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310821660

Edward Thomson

Graduated with a PhD in Astrophysics. Interested in technology, electric vehicles, MMOs.Writing (fiction): science fiction, fantasy.Writing (discursive): philosophy, science, maths, technology etcReading: as above.

Book preview

Terosan Tales

Copyright 2014 Edward A Thomson

Published by Edward A Thomson at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

Story One

Story Two

Story Three

Story Four

About Edward Thomson

Acknowledgements

Thanks to everyone that helped me along the way. Particularly to R. James Stevens (twitter.com/RJamesStevens) for his frequent encouragement to get past the last hurdle of self-publishing: to finish writing the book.

Story One – Deck 20

Qevon, breakfast.

A dull hum filled the otherwise silent household. Thick walls killed the concerto of myriad extractor fans. No house, not even the poorest houses, were without computerised utilities. The city was a sprawling networked hive of freezers, vacuum cleaners and light switches. Waste heat was sucked from the circuit boards and pumped around the tower block to be reused where needed.

A criss-cross of wires hid beneath the skin of the walls; carrying power and communication between the nodes, the human conveniences, that covered an entire planet of metal towers and walkways.

Footsteps thumped erratically down the hallway. That wasn’t Qevon. Crannor lay down his cutlery and peered out into the hallway. The door of the master bedroom swung shut and bounced against its frame. He shouted to his son again.

The toast popped up. A golden brown hue to the bread indicating it was perfectly ready to receive the butter. Crannor poured the coffee and grabbed the butter. He shouted out again to Qevon. The reply was the noise of aeroplane engines that children make.

NEE-AM! Qevon grasped a plastic spaceship that flashed with red and blue lights. The plastic toy bleeped as it landed next to a cereal bowl.

Starship Belar 3 reporting for breakfast, Qevon announced.

Lucky Asteroids or Honey Planets? Crannor asked.

Can I have both?

Eh… Crannor puffed, sure. He lifted the box of Asteroids and began to pour.

Let me do it, let me do it. I can do it, watch, said Qevon as he grabbed the cereal box from his father.

Where’s mum? Crannor asked his son.

Don’t know, Qevon replied. Shower, it was more of a statement than a question although Crannor guessed his son didn’t know. Crannor stammered for something to say but he didn’t know either. He suspected she had just come home. A whiff of gin lingered in the hallway.

Qevon poured from the Honey Planets box while holding his starship in the other hand. He purred with engine noises.

Come on, stop. Just pour it normally. Did you not hear mum leave the bathroom? Crannor said all at once.

I’m getting changed, a barely audible voice shouted through from the bedroom.

Your toast is getting cold, he shouted back.

I’ll make some more.

Can’t you just eat it now? We can’t afford to keep wasting food, I chucked half of the leftovers this morning. The vegetables were black.

No response came.

Daddy… Qevon spoke in the way he did when he wanted to ask a difficult question.

Yes, Qevon?

How many stars are there? Hundreds?

There are many, many stars. Too many to count.

More than a hundred thousand hundred hundred?

I’m sure of it.

Hasn’t someone tried to count them all?

Yes, some have tried but you can never quite get them all. We do know that there are more stars in the sky than there are people on this planet.

Daddy, do you have to work today the words were chewed with the breakfast cereal.

Qevon, don’t speak with your mouth full. Yes, daddy has to go to work today. There have been a lot of malfunctions with the machines in our district and it’s daddy’s job to find out why.

What sort of machines, daddy? And why can’t they fix themselves so you can stay at home.

Sometimes they can, Qevon, but it isn’t always possible. The machines are government owned machines. They monitor the districts; cleaning up and sometimes carrying out repair work. But they aren’t sophisticated enough to fix all problems, especially not their own internal problems. The machines can perform a self-diagnostic apply patches from the government’s central node but sometimes that just isn’t enough. When that happens my team is called in to solve the problems.

Qevon spooned another mouthful of cereal and mumbled something about going out to play with Keth on the lower decks.

I don’t want you anywhere near deck 20, tell Keth he has to comes up if he wants to play. It isn’t safe down there. Make sure you stay within the tower, Qevon, there are plenty of places to play inside. Are you listening to me? Qevon? The lower levels are dangerous, I don’t want you down there.

Qevon scratched at his arm. Angry red patches of skin covered both forearms and the inside of each elbow. The summer months were the worst for irritation. Crannor noticed the scratch marks around the bump Qev’s ID chip was hidden.

Do I have to keep it, dad?

It’s for the best, son. Remember when grandad was ill and his chip alerted us to his condition? The chip’s sensors tripped the alarm, and let us knew he was in trouble. It saved his life.

Qevon scratched his chip with renewed vigour, but finally relented. He conceded that his dad was correct. Everyone had to have a chip. Why does it have to be so itchy?

Crannor eyed the clock on the fridge again, I need to leave. Remember, no lower than level 21 and don’t go further than the next tower, and stay away from Red areas. The Reds don’t look after their neighbourhoods, and they don’t look after their children. He kissed Qevon on the head then grabbed his jacket. "Love you honey, love you Qevon. We’ll hang out when I’m