A Fistful of Monopoles

By Raymund Eich

A billion-year-old alien ship.

A great treasure.

A great danger.

 

With a last surge of the main drive, Barnet matched our bearing and speed with the alien derelict.

 

Twisted lines of tubing and conduit curled around the hull. After a billion years, micrometeor collisions had sandblasted the ship to a dull finish.

 

But behind that battered surface might lurk exotic materials beyond the manufacturing capability of any human world. Magnetic monopoles, dyons, condensed matter. Even a tiny amount delivered to Earth or a major world could set up a crew for life.

 

Risks? Yes. I'd seen men die horrible deaths from alien nano. But the rewards could be worth it.

 

And I had nothing to worry about.

 

I knew Barnet had my back.

 

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Want to learn more about science fiction author Raymund Eich? Here's a Q&A to tell you more about this distinctive voice in new science fiction.

 

First off: Raymund Eich. Am I spelling it correctly? And how do you pronounce it?

 

That's the correct spelling. My immigrant parents split the difference between the Anglo-French Raymond and the German Raimund.

 

My last name is pronounced with a long-i vowel sound, like both syllables in Einstein. The preferred consonant sound is a sh. Overall, one syllable, eye-sh.

 

Tough to pronounce, and also tough to spell. I've seen Elch, Einch, Etch, Eitch, Iech, and Erich. The misspellings used to bother me, but I've grown philosophical about them.

 

What are some of your publishing credits?

 

I've had short stories published in Analog science fiction and fact magazine and the sci fi anthology Surviving Tomorrow. And over a dozen novels and six short story collections are available as ebooks and paperback books, and some also as audiobooks.

 

Final question. Science fiction, sci fi, SF, speculative fiction, or spec fic?

 

Is it an adventure on future Earth, an exploration of a distant planet, a discovery beyond the limits of human knowledge, or a journey across deep space? Then I'll read it. The genre fiction label doesn't matter.

• Language: English
• Publisher: CV-2 Books
• Release date: May 4, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201119331

Raymund Eich

Raymund Eich files patent applications, earned a Ph.D., won a national quiz bowl championship, writes science fiction and fantasy, and affirms Robert Heinlein's dictum that specialization is for insects.In a typical day, he may talk with university biology and science communication faculty, silicon chip designers, patent attorneys, epileptologists, and rocket scientists. Hundreds of papers cite his graduate research on the reactions of nitric oxide with heme proteins.He lives in Houston with his wife, son, and daughter.

Book preview

A Fistful of Monopoles

A FISTFUL OF MONOPOLES

A SPACE ADVENTURE SHORT STORY

RAYMUND EICH

CV-2 Books

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A FISTFUL OF MONOPOLES

With a last surge of Winona from Pomona ’s main drive, Barnet matched our bearing and speed with the alien derelict.

He shut down the engine and the dregs of thrust-gravity ebbed away. My feet drifted off the floor of our cramped command station. I grabbed a strap. Two meters away, Barnet did the same, showing off the sweat stain in his armpits.

I sniffed, though I didn’t smell much better. For a two-man crew in deep space, it’s easier to noseblind yourself through your neuronal interface than to bathe regularly. Then I forgot about our lack of hygiene as my neuronal interface projected a 3d image of the derelict onto my optic nerves.

Constructed by our ship’s computers from reflections in the EM spectrum and active detection using the neutrino radar, the alien vessel seemed to float in the air between Barnet and me. 1:200 scale. Despite the dim light here, 4000 AU from Margolin’s Star, there could be no doubt of what we saw. No human ship had lines that looked once alive.

Twisted lines of tubing and conduit curled around the hull like a nest of flash-frozen snakes. Most of the outer skin had flaked off, leaving great scabrous patches dangling in vacuum. After a billion years of ultraviolet light, the remaining skin bore a yellow-brown tinge. Micrometeor collisions had