First Gear: Mecha Origin, #4

By Eve Langlais

When an intrepid explorer finds a lost temple, what's inside will change the course of history.

The planet is dying, and yet Jool is convinced there's a way to save its people. The answer lies in a deadly mountain range that no one dares explore, but he doesn't have a choice. The voice in his head proves insistent.

With nothing to lose and everything to gain, Jool sets out to find the truth—and almost dies on his journey.

When he stumbles upon a hidden temple, he won't just find salvation and a cure for his wife, he'll becomes the first prophet to serve the Mecha Gods.

Are you ready for the story of the first gear?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Eve Langlais
• Release date: Jan 7, 2020
• ISBN: 9781773840956

Eve Langlais

New York Times and USA Today bestseller, Eve Langlais, is a Canadian romance author who is known for stories that combine quirky storylines, humor and passion.

Book preview

Prologue

Standing at the apex of the mountain, the first prophet, the voice of the Mecha Gods, creator of their bible, lifted his face—that of a man in his prime despite the generations he’d outlasted—into the cool, clean breeze blowing past his cheeks. His eyes closed, and he basked in the warm sunlight. Something the entire world could now appreciate again.

Because he’d done it.

Saved his planet.

Kept his people from dying out.

With the help of the Mecha Gods, they’d been gifted a second chance, and he’d made the most of it.

And now, as his gears began to finally slow, Jool Ius’verrn couldn’t help but remember how it used to be. How close they’d come to extinction.

One wild decision changed history because Jool found salvation and went on to establish a religion that would keep his people safe.

1

You need to send an expedition into the mountains. No need to name the impassable cluster that jutted from the ground in jagged spines and covered more a third of the planet. It remained largely unexplored due to the danger and the lack of interest, but they might provide the only chance to survive.

The bureaucrat sitting behind a desk made of hammered metal, its surface pockmarked, leaned back in his seat, which uttered an ominous groan. The man sighed as he tucked his hands over a belly still round. He didn’t yet have the gaunt appearance the rest of the populace sported. Those working for the machine of government received perks—and bribes—that no one else enjoyed.

Not this again, Jool. We already talked about your plan to send an expedition. The answer was, and still is, no.

You need to re-evaluate.

Geoff, a man Jool had come to know by name he visited him so often, sighed. No, I don’t. There’s nothing there. Those mountains are incapable of sustaining life.

Not true. There are creatures that live in them. I’ve seen firsthand accounts.

Perhaps there was a time that was true, but the world has changed.

And not for the better.

Industrialization brought so many wonderful innovations. Machines that could power them along at high speeds, making travel and trade manageable. However, it came at a price. Waste multiplied a hundredfold, despoiling the land, the waterways. There was an acknowledgement and yet, at the same time, an apathy. There was no clear answer on how to stop it. This was life now. Soon it would lead to death. A fact that kept playing over and over in his head with ominous music.

Giving in wasn’t something Jool wanted to do. We need to be sure. Send someone to the mountains. A soldier, a scientist.

Why don’t you go?

The very idea. Jool sputtered. I’m a historian, not an explorer.

I don’t know what you expect from me, Jool. We can spare no one, not with the discontent brewing.

The populace grumbled as food became scarce and hope faded.

What if there is something in the mountains that can save us?

Don’t you think we’d know if there existed a solution? Don’t you think we’ve been looking?

Jool almost said something snarky, like only if it was right in front of him, but he held his tongue. For the past year, he’d been trying to get someone to take him seriously, yet whenever he mentioned the mountains, a strange stubbornness emerged. An unwillingness to explore every option.

If he were a man to believe in magic, he’d think there was a curse forcing people to ignore the one place they’d not sought an answer.

We have to do something, Jool insisted.

There is something you can do. Geoff leaned forward. Leave the city and don’t look back. You didn’t hear this from me, but there’s little time left.

But the news reports—

Have been lying. The smog is covering over ninety percent of the planet. The sickness pervading the land itself, poisoning everything, is spreading.

Sickness? he scoffed. It’s a result of the pollution we failed to rein in.

Geoff shrugged. Call it what you want. It’s done. Best estimates give us a year before the surface is completely uninhabitable. A few months at worst.

Months?

The news deflated him. He’d run out of time.

Slouching, Jool emerged from the government building, hands in his pockets. He was immediately hit by the thick smog filling the busy street that played host to a steady stream of vehicles belching smoke.

So many wonders invented in the last two centuries, but progress brought pollution. It tightened the lungs and tainted the breath of just about everyone on the planet. It led to lower birth rates and decimated their senior population. Yet that was only the beginning of their problems. The smoke from their combustion machines filled the air, reducing the amount of sunlight the crops received, tainting the rain that fell from the sky. Which, in turn, ruined their lakes and rivers.

The fish died. The vegetation wilted. Animals became sickly and died en masse on the farms. Those left in the wild, of which there were few places, disappeared.

That, in turn, affected the food supply chain, a vicious cycle that they only took note of too late. The day of reckoning had arrived, and it judged them harshly.

Rather than add to the problem by hailing a cab, he chose to walk. A tall man in his early thirties, a professor of history, forced to beg for funds since he’d already spent all of his grant researching a way out of this mess. Not being a scientist, he didn’t know how to fix the toxicity in the soil or how to reduce emissions. But he did know the mountains were the one place untouched by civilization. Their rocky barrier may be providing a filter to the pollution. Could there still be animal life capable of providing meat amongst its peaks?

No one seemed to know. No one seemed to care.

The airships always swung a wide berth around them, claiming treacherous wind currents. As for explorers, none appeared willing to brave the dangers, not with the stories of monsters and people not returning once they trekked into them.

As he walked, hands tucked in his pockets, Jool couldn’t help but recall Geoff’s recommendation to leave the city, to enjoy what little time was left. Would the air by the mountains, far from industrialization, be any better? Or would it just delay the inevitable?

The people on the street paid him no mind, busy going along with whatever made them rush. Too many people for a planet already strained.

The newspapers piled in the boxes he passed still pretended their world wasn’t in dire straits. They didn’t tell the truth, didn’t mention the people dying from hunger, the suicides caused by despair, the unrest as the population wailed at the government to fix it.

His world was dying, and yet no one seemed ready to do anything about it. Then again, what could they do?

Even if all the machines were to stop belching tomorrow, that wouldn’t create food or un-poison the soil. Wouldn’t cure the illnesses plaguing more than half the population.

No one wanted to hear the truth. Just like no one wanted to abandon their precious commodities.

Perhaps they deserved annihilation for not taking better care of their world.

The university where he taught took up an entire city block, towering higher almost than Parliament. It was said that the very top floors actually peeked above the layer of smog and enjoyed sunlight. He didn’t know for sure. A professor of history was relegated belowground with the books people had forgotten. A past that they claimed had no bearing on the future.

A good point in a sense. After all, how could the stone age of his people help them? His ancestors had never taken more than the land could handle.

A loud horn startled, and he glanced to the side to see the racing vehicle of an enforcer fleeing by, belching smoke and flashing lights. There were more of them around these days, doing their best to maintain a fragile peace.

It wouldn’t take much to explode the populace. Hungry bellies and aching lungs tended to make a person grouchy. As if to remind him, he barely managed to bring a cloth to his mouth before he coughed, a hard hack that hurt his chest. But no blood yet. He knew once that sign appeared, the countdown to death started.

The front doors to the university were made of solid metal, some kind of malleable bronze that in his youth used to shine in the sun. The grime coating them turned the surface a dark gray. Kind of like the sun, which appeared as a diffused lighter spot in the smog overhead.

Apparently, outside the city you could still see it at times depending on which way the wind blew. He wouldn’t mind seeing it one last time. Leaving wouldn’t pose much of a problem. It wasn’t as if he had any students left. At times he was fairly sure the university forgot he existed. He doubted they’d notice if he suddenly stopped showing up for work or even emptied the library and took it with him.

As he stepped inside the building, the noise outside faded, and he uttered a sigh. He’d not yet caught on to the habit of putting plugs in his ears.

He wiped his feet on a carpet that probably didn’t make much of a difference and looked around the vast lobby.

It held only a few people, some students already in class. Many more had dropped out. Why bother? Most had started to realize they’d never make it to old age. Why spend what time they had studying?

Such a depressing place.

Jool moved quickly across the tiled floor,