Tyche's Grace: Tyche Origins, #5

By Richard Parry

Grace Gushiken is a prisoner at fourteen.

Grace is confined to her father Kazuo's grounds. She, like him, is an esper: a reader of minds. Kazuo has arranged extensive training for her. Stealth. Infiltration. And combat.

When a simple trip to the ancient city of Ise brings disaster, Grace tries to run. Her stunted esper abilities betray her. Kazuo turns Grace's friends against her. No one can stand against the power of his will.

When her father is called away to meet the Emperor, Grace has one shot at freedom. She must brave the plague city of Osaka, steal a starship, and find a haven. If she can survive the nanobot swarms of a dead city, she might find hope among the stars. If not, she'll live as a mindless thrall to Kazuo's will.

Tyche's Grace is the fifth story in Richard Parry's gripping Tyche Origins hexalogy. If you like page-turning space opera with great dialogue and heart-pumping action, grab your copy. Also in the Tyche Origins collection.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mondegreen
• Release date: Dec 3, 2018
• ISBN: 9780995109049

Book preview

Tyche’s Grace

Tyche’s Grace

A Space Opera Adventure Story

Richard Parry

Mondegreen

Contents

Get On The List

A War of the Mind

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

About the Author

Also by Richard Parry

Glossary

Acknowledgments

EXCERPT: TYCHE'S GRAVEDIGGER

Shout at the Void

TYCHE’S GRACE copyright © 2018 Richard Parry.

Cover design copyright © 2018 Mondegreen.

---

All rights reserved.

ISBN-13: 978-0-9951090-4-9

---

First edition.

Future Forfeit Reading Order

No parts of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any form without permission. Piracy, much as it sounds like a cool thing done at sea with a lot of, Me hearties! commentary, is a dick move. It gives nothing back to the people who made this book, so don’t do it. Support original works: purchase only authorized editions.

---

While we’re here, what you’re holding is a work of fiction created by a professional liar. It is not done in an edgy documentary style with recovered footage. Pretty much everything in here was made up by the author so you could enjoy a story about the world being saved through action scenes and clever dialog. No people were used as templates, serial numbers filed off for anonymity: let’s be honest, October Kohl couldn’t be based on anyone real. Any resemblance to humans you know (alive) or have known (dead) is coincidental.

Published by Mondegreen, New Zealand.

Get On The List

Want updates from Richard Parry? Sign-up and get a welcome bundle at https://www.mondegreen.co/get-on-the-list/.

Welcome Bundle Titles Banner

Find out more about Richard Parry at mondegreen.co

For Julia, and her steady hand on life’s tiller.

A War of the Mind

Grace knew she was a prisoner at fourteen.

They’d taken an air car to Ise. In the air car, the interior patterned with pictures of trees and dragons, soft leather against her skin, Grace had pressed her face to the windows, looking down at the fields scudding by below. She’d tried to ignore the rigid posture of Megumi, because under her silence was regret/fear/duty/protect, a mantra repeated louder than the full force of taiko drums. Grace had tried to ignore the sweet-sour smell of Iwao, last night’s alcohol hanging closer than the suit he wore. She didn’t mind he drank to stop the shaking in his hands. It left his mind quiet, a relief next to the rolling thunder of Megumi’s feelings.

When the air car sat down, steam hissing underneath as gull wings opened into the humid air, Grace had wanted to run ahead. She knew better than to try, but it didn’t stop her thirsting for it. Iwao had stepped out first, eyes hidden behind sunglasses that Grace knew described the world in higher detail. An overlay, telling him about the people around him. Which ones would do them harm. Which ones carried weapons. Iwao needed the glasses because he wasn’t like Grace, and he wasn’t like her father. He was ordinary, as ordinary as anyone who’d survived the plague city of Osaka could be.

Megumi stepped out in his wake, one hand straying near the opening of her suit jacket, which hid a sidearm. She radiated concern/bad idea/fear/duty, the beat of taiko ever vigilant. Megumi also wore dark glasses, but Grace expected they were as much for extra world detail as they were to hide her too-Western eyes. There they were, the three of them against the might of Ise. The fearsome ice cream sellers that tried to sell cool, crisp flavor, as if that would tear the world to the ground.

Concern/concern/concern/bad idea, the drums louder, until they quietened, Megumi’s hand falling away from her jacket. It’s safe, she said, not looking at Grace. Shame/fear/duty.

Grace put a hand on the sill of the gull wing doors, stepping into the quiet of Ise. The ground was paved, the seams nearly perfect between the stones. There were very few people, the streets almost empty here except for a few early risers. A man peddled away from them on a bicycle, the circular motion of his feet at odds with the bright holo that lit across the handlebars. A woman with a broom swept the front of her store, preparing the way for the coming day. Across from her, an older man too bent by time was lifting the rattling shutters from a set of machines that would husk rice for a few Empire credits.

Quaint. Still. Grace closed her eyes, breathing in the silence. There was a slight breeze, Iwao’s sweet-sour downwind from her for a moment. Aside from Megumi and Iwao, there was little here to draw her mind’s eye. The woman with the broom radiated curiosity/opportunity. The old man with the rice husking machines was tired/new day/tired, like his body wasn’t ready for another day on this quiet earth. The bicyclist was already gone, a faint chime of a bell the only memory of his passing.

The walk to the ice cream vendor was pleasant. Grace played a game with herself, where she imagined that Iwao and Megumi were good friends, and the three of them on their way to get ice cream together. It didn’t matter it was before breakfast. It didn’t matter that Iwao and Megumi weren’t her friends. It didn’t matter they’d been ordered to chaperone Grace by Kazuo Gushiken. He’d said she needs a new lesson today, and Grace hadn’t thought about that because they were leaving the grounds on an adventure. It didn’t matter that the adventure was ice cream with Iwao and Megumi. Not even the sad eyes of her mother Aya made her curious as she boarded the air car, because her mother was always sad, but always silent with it.

The ice cream vendor was a small woman with a lined face, her eyes still bright despite her age. She seemed to know exactly what Grace wanted, a cone with a single piece of paper wrapped around it held out in greeting. Grace looked at Iwao, who ignored her, so she looked at Megumi, who nodded. Grace took the cone. Thank you. She didn’t pay. Grace never paid. Credits chimed nonetheless, Iwao dropping two chits to shine on the vendor’s counter.

The cone was close to Grace’s mouth when her eyes saw something unusual. A girl, a little younger than her, was being pulled along by a woman, presumably her mother. Grace smiled in delight. The only other girls Grace had met were at the other end of a holo during her studies. They had names