Copyright

SCOUT

An Exodus Chronicles Short

Copyright © 2015 D. Robert Pease

Cover Art Copyright © 2015 D. Robert Pease

Published by Walking Stick Books

December, 2015 Edition

First published as The Scout

in The Immortality Chronicles (2015)

Edited by Carol Davis

Part of “The Future Chronicles”,

created by Samuel Peralta

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Disclaimer:

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or the author has used them fictitiously.

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Scout

I’D BEEN KILLED a hundred times, and I wished just once it’d stick. Perhaps tonight was the night.

Across the millennia and thousands of worlds, I’d finally been found. Hunted down and cornered on this godforsaken world at the edge of a godforsaken galaxy far from a home I knew I’d never see again.

“You want another?”

I glanced up to see the bartender standing over me, a bottle tipped toward my glass.

“Probably shouldn’t.”

“Ah, why not? You look like you could use another.”

I shook my head.

“Just as well. You couldn’t handle it anyway.” The chrome-skinned bartender gave me a sly smile.

I chuckled at the robot and sighed. “Go ahead.” Someone had done an amazing job on this guy’s AI. Either that, or I didn’t want to leave and face whatever was out there in the dark alleys of New York.

The robot poured me the drink, then moved on to his next customer. The bar was half-full of guys like me, who most likely didn’t have anyone to go home to—or at least, anyone they cared to go home to. Here we all sat, in a crowd, but all alone. I glanced back at the bartender. Of course, I probably had more in common with the circuits and processors that made up this robot than I did the flesh and blood men who sat around trying to quiet the screams in their heads of the billions of creatures they’d massacred all over the universe... Okay, maybe that last bit was just me.

“I’ve seen you in here before, haven’t I?”

A slender man whose skin hung loose on his bones like his worn suit jacket nodded toward me.

I just nodded back, not in the mood for chitchat.

He slid over a couple of bar stools anyway. “Hard to believe, isn’t it?”

“What’s that?”

He bobbed his head toward the room. “This is what it’s come to.”

I grunted, not enjoying the intrusion into my dark thoughts.

“Humanity pulls itself out of the slime, builds what folks a few hundred years ago would have thought to be a utopian society, and yet here we are, doing the same thing guys have done for centuries.”

“Annoying those who want to be left alone?”

“Exactly.” He cupped his beer with calloused hands, staring into the amber light bouncing through the dirty glass. “Why do we feel so alone?”

I nodded grimly. It never ceased to amaze me how these creatures, whose entire existence was merely a blink of the eye compared to my own, would feel just as keenly the pointlessness of life.

“Do you ever wonder if there’s something more?”

How much had this guy had to drink tonight?

“I mean, my mother used to talk about heaven, like that’s where we truly belong. Maybe...” His gaze drifted off as he whispered, “Maybe she was on to something.”

“Listen.” I set my glass down on the bar. “I’ve seen more than you can imagine. Lived longer than you’d guess, and I can tell you there isn’t anything more. The sooner you deal with that idea, the sooner you can find some kind of meaning in this life.”

His soft smile, which had appeared at the memory of his mother, faded. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” He grew quiet and went back to staring into his beer.

I hated this planet with all its contradictions—all its false hope for a future that would never be. Why were these stupid humans so hopeful and so depressed all at the same time?

In the end, it didn’t matter. I had a job to do. And somewhere, perhaps in this very bar, was a creature whose sole purpose was to see me fail. I sensed a dull resonance that could only be Hunter—like a ping off a wireless transponder—but I couldn’t gauge distance or location. He could be anyone, or anything, and when he found me he would take pleasure in ripping me limb from limb.

It was the same on every planet. Sometimes Hunter found me and killed me in the most unpleasant ways. Sometimes I failed to deliver to Master a world worthy of her conquest, and she did even more unpleasant things to me. But every once in a while, I succeeded. I helped mold some despicable creatures into an army whose might nearly matched that of the Muradine. During those rare occasions I’d given Master the opportunity to achieve the highest acclaim back on our home world. Each time she’d promised me the next success would be my last, and she’d give me my greatest desire: a permanent death.

Earth held more promise than any other world I’d scouted, but first I had to crack the puzzle that was humanity. This crazy race seemed to defy all that was proper and all that should be in a universe that, to the unskilled eye, seemed without order. But within the disorder I’d discovered a pattern—a natural progression all life seemed to follow. Not here. Not on this watery world. No matter how I labored, applying the knowledge I’d gleaned over millennia, men would not be molded into the worthy opponents I knew they were so capable of being.

Something in their flesh resisted.

Understand this: mankind was nearly as accomplished at doling out death as any species I’d discovered. Their minds raged with turmoil. The history of this planet, they called Earth, was filled with war after war. But always they stopped short. Always they held back. I was running out of time to discover why.

My partner in misery didn’t notice when I stood. Any joy he’d hoped to find in this life was draining onto the sticky floor beneath his stool.

I had that affect on people.

One last glance at the patrons in the bar revealed no signs of Hunter. I pulled up my collar and headed for the door.

Outside, the air was cool. A wisp of cloud between the skyscrapers passed over the nearly full moon. How I hated this planet, with its lonely cratered moon—nothing like home. Nothing like the immense sphere that unraveled around me, no matter where I stood on its inner surface, with its star, much warmer than this one, always gleaming in the same place overhead. Never dark. Never cold.

Sometimes I worried I’d lose that memory, but like everything else I’d experienced in my blasted unending life, it was burned into digital storage, never to be erased, never letting me live in peace. I shook my head. It was going to be one of those nights.

Pulling my coat tight around me, I dialed up my light sensors and headed down the street. Not that I’d be able to see Hunter. Not until it was too late, at least.

Even at this late hour the streets teemed with people, both living and robotic. Bright lights flashed, displaying every kind of entertainment possible. In a world where folks hardly needed to work—where robot-kind did all the manufacturing, cooking, cleaning and every other labor that required lifting a finger—mankind had a whole bunch of free time. Instead of figuring out better and more efficient ways to kill each other, they spent their time involved in anything that took their minds off the meaninglessness of it all. This was where I’d failed. This was where she would find me guilty.

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end and I glanced over my shoulder, sure Hunter would be there. I wasn’t certain who’d sent him, only that he’d come. If Master had sent him because she already knew of my failure, then Hunter would wait for a moment that was just right to cause me the most pain. If it were some other member of the Muradine, then a blessed death could follow. Of course, I hoped for the latter, but it was always the former. Master didn’t give her subjects a long leash. She had to know I’d failed.

Picking up my pace, I headed for Central Park. If Hunter tracked me now, there was only one place I’d be safe.

* * *

Like mankind, I had a proclivity for places of solitude—places that resembled the way things had once been. It hadn’t taken much influence on my part to have the land set aside for a park all those hundreds of years ago, a place for me to recharge—literally. Even as I entered the well-lit paths between centuries-old trees, I felt the energy of the cosmos surging through my limbs. The ground all around me hummed, giving me strength.

The moonlight glinted off the reservoir in the middle of the park, highlighting the surface as it began to vibrate. Droplets of water separated from the lake and streamed toward me. I basked while the liquid power poured over and through me. The few people nearby slowed for a moment, then went on as if they hadn’t seen anything unusual. Thus was the strength of my glamour—or the weakness of their minds.

Time stilled until it was just the deep, cool water and me. The lake churned and was thrown back as I stepped into its depths. Geysers thundered twenty feet into the air. I walked until the surface of the lake was over my head. The churning cauldron above collapsed, smothering me in its cold embrace. Time continued on—with those outside unaware that a creature from another world had passed by. A thin line of blazing light appeared before me, and I strode forward through the water, allowing the glow to bathe me just as the water did. The line widened while I pushed into the light. The water stayed behind.

I was home. At least as much of a home as a gypsy who endlessly wandered the stars could hope for.

Home was my respite from the world outside. I’d moved it from place to place around the Earth as the need arose, but it had been in Central Park for a few hundred years now. I suspected I wouldn’t be moving again and hoped that perhaps, one day soon, it would become my tomb.

Of course that would never happen, because she wouldn’t allow it.

It was meant to be a simple task. Master, who was on the cusp of being empress, had created me to be the perfect scout and sent me across the universe in search of worlds that had the makings of greatness. This little blue planet was to be my highest achievement, the world that would propel her to ultimate power.

For millennia I was on track. I helped mold humanity into creatures who constantly warred with one another. I laughed when they called World War I the war to end all wars—for there would be many, many more.

The main difficulty was, their skill in battle had more to do with the weakness of their flesh than their prowess at killing. That was the standard course on the worlds I’d developed in the past. The next step was always an enhancement of the flesh and the mind—a putting aside of weak tissue for something much stronger, something worthy of Master’s interest.

Here, my failure becomes apparent. At every turn, humanity resisted an upgrade.

* * *

Lights flared to life as I walked down a long silver hallway. The power of the universe still coursed through me. I thought back to before I’d built my lab—before I had begun to use its framework to focus the cosmic rays pouring through the planet from the deep reaches of space. My constant weakness was almost unbearable at times. That Master had left me in that state—that she somehow gained pleasure from dropping me off on some half-formed world so far from home—

I stopped, pressing my hands against the orbs these humans called eyes. No, I wouldn’t allow the fury to overtake me again. I’d put that aside eons ago.

The door to my lab opened and I strode in. My gaze immediately fell on the robot lying on the table. It was perfect in every way—indiscernible from a natural-born human. Under intense scrutiny, even dissection, it would be seen as human. Only if its cells were viewed under an electron microscope would the truth be known. Billions of tiny nano-bots made up its biological structure, designed to allow infinite variation in its form at will... if it had a will, that was. I could program it to talk like a human, interact like a human, but in the end it would be a facsimile. It would still be an imposter. I shook my head. I’d done this on hundreds of planets. Nudging the technology along. But something was different here.

I turned to the small cage in the corner. A grubby woman huddled there, her face hidden beneath a mound of matted hair. She used to cringe when I opened her door. Now she gazed at me dully.

Pushing aside her hair, I saw the sensor band was still in place. Those first months, she had torn it off at every chance, but now she was truly broken. I felt a twinge of sadness for this despicable being. Why did these humans move me at times? They were so weak. So unworthy of pity, and yet…

I grimaced. The years were finally taking their toll on me.

“Perhaps today will be the day you’ll be free.”

She made no response.

I closed the cage and moved over to the computer terminal next to the robot. A stream of numbers rolled up the screen. Patterns that showed some semblance of the consciousness locked inside the woman in the cage, even if she displayed no outside appearance of being aware.

What nightmares she endured.

This technology should be sufficient. Humanity had already mapped the brain down to the smallest level. They knew what memory looked like. They had delved deep into the subconscious and learned the secrets of how a human life came to be self-aware. But some barrier stood in the way of mapping that to an artificial life form. I’d worked for centuries to help them along. I’d done it on other worlds with much less effort. So why couldn’t I bring humanity to the next stage, one that would make them a truly formidable opponent?

“Computer, initiate transfer.”

A slight crackle from the paper sheet under the robot and a soft moan from the cage told me it was working. The display on the screen lit up. I’d done this long enough to see patterns, to know the difference between pain and pleasure. The test subject was definitely not enjoying the process. A second monitor presented the robot’s brain activity. A simple stream of zeros scrolled up the screen. Then some numbers changed. More and more, until patterns began to emerge. Patterns that started to match the ones on the other display. Within moments both monitors showed the same scrolling code. The robot was now synced with the woman.

I let it run for a few more minutes, let the transfer bake into the hardware. “Computer, sever the connection.”

Glancing back and forth between the two monitors, I watched as the patterns diverged. The human’s thought waves softened. Her pain diminished. The robot’s pattern continued to show the same pain and fear—but something else, too. Something I hadn’t seen before. Was it independent thought? The minutes ticked by, and I began to hope. Perhaps I’d done it. Perhaps this time—

The numbers on the screen went haywire. A massive spike of agony rolled through the code. The robot on the table bucked once, twice, and grew still.

Rows of zeros on the monitor mocked me, shouting out my failure.

Master wouldn’t like this at all.

* * *

Back out in the streets of New York, I searched for my next test subject. The rational side of me said I’d done this a hundred times before, without success. But perhaps this one would be different.

The screaming still haunted me. Though it was only a pattern of numbers on a screen, I felt the horrendous agony of the life I’d attempted to transfer into the robot. Something had fought against the process. It was almost as if—

I stopped short. A man walking behind me yelped as he swerved around.

All of my human test subjects, every single one, had been part of the experiment unwillingly. Yes, most of them came for the promise of a warm meal, after spending long, cold nights out in the brutal New York winter, but once they saw what I wanted from them, every man and woman had rebelled—even the children. Perhaps willingness was the key. Maybe something within the human psyche fought so intensely against being used in such a way that their consciousness refused to be transferred.

I turned on my heel and headed back down the street. A few blocks east of Central Park sat a dive bar frequented by students from the nearby liberal arts college. As I ducked through an alley, I adjusted my appearance. A blue T-shirt with jeans and a blazer complemented my now early-thirties face, one that bore the dangerous smile and scruffy whiskers co-eds got all dreamy over.

It was a Thursday night; still, the bar had a nice crowd. After a quick scan of the room, I headed for the bar. Once again, I was getting drinks from a bar-bot. No apologies here; I’m an alien with a taste for alcohol, and these Earthlings seemed to have mastered its manufacture better than the natives of any other planet I’d scouted—enough to make this hellish world worthwhile... almost.

Running my gaze over the room, I scanned for the telltale signs. There would be some, especially in a crowd of kids like this—early twenties, ready, willing, and even excited about the latest fad.

It only took a few moments to find a couple of girls seated at a table near the back wall. A petite blonde with signature blue and red lights flashing just under the skin of her cheek and forehead was in deep conversation with her redheaded girlfriend. Her skin was so pale as to be almost translucent—another effect of the flashing lights running through the circuitry implanted in her face. As I watched, the girls swapped faces. Their hair didn’t change, but the smaller nose of the blonde elongated slightly and her lips filled out while the redhead’s face did the opposite. They squealed in delight at the transformation.

I stood, drink in hand, and strode toward the table. “Why would girls with obviously perfect skin have DermaYoung implants?” The young ladies looked up, their smiles frozen on their faces. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s a noble quest.”

The redhead with the blonde’s face pinched her eyebrows together. “Noble quest?”

“The fountain of youth. Immortality.”

The blonde chimed in. “We’re having a bit of fun, but who wouldn’t want to live forever?” Her words were slurred together. She’d been hitting it a bit too hard tonight.

I, for one.

Blondie nodded when I gestured toward an extra seat. “Where do you girls go to school?”

“Over at Lancaster,” the redhead said.

“A fine institution.” I paused for a moment, glancing at the blonde, who batted eyelashes over glassy, bloodshot eyes. I’d picked the right face to wear tonight. Both girls’ faces returned back to their own.

“I’m sorry, where are my manners? I’m Dr. Hunt from Hardy Scientific.”

“I’m Raquel,” the redhead said, reaching for my hand.

“And I’m Suzanne.” The blonde grappled for my hands before her friend could claim them. “What d’you teach?”

I gave her hands a squeeze and released them. Raquel smiled slightly at that. “I’m in research, mostly. Although I do have several grad students working under me.”

“Under you, huh?” Raquel laughed. “What are you researching?”

“Well, I guess you might say immortality.”

Suzanne’s flushed face lit up. “So, you’re in cosmetics?”

“Not exactly. I work in consciousness transference.”

She registered nothing. In fact, she looked like she was about to pass out.

“Taking the you out of you and putting it into something more... robust.”

The blonde’s eyes glazed over and she laid her head on the table. “I don’t get it,” she mumbled.

“Well, it’s—”

Suzanne closed her eyes and immediately began to snore.

I winked at Raquel. “Seems your friend has had a bit too much to drink.”

She laughed. “I guess some girls can’t handle their liquor.”

“And you?”

“I guess you’ll have to find out.”

I took the hint and motioned for the bar-bot.

“So, consciousness transference, huh? As a psychology major, I find the whole subject fascinating. I actually went to a lecture not too long ago by a Dr. Winslow. Have you heard of him?”

I nodded. In fact, I’d been feeding Dr. Winslow anonymous information for years, attempting to influence his research in the right direction. But he was struggling to put it all together.

The bar-bot arrived and I nodded toward Raquel.

“A White Russian, please.”

I laughed. “My favorite drink. Make it two.”

The bot nodded and turned away.

“So, your lecture?”

“He talked all about consciousness transference. How the only way we’ll ever move forward as a species is if we get rid of these bodies. But—” She frowned, trying to remember. “He had come to a dead end, and began to research purely biological transference—deciding it would be impossible to transfer our minds into robots. He thought that perhaps we could grow new bodies in a lab and upload ourselves into them when our own bodies wear out.”

I shook my head at that. “So shortsighted.”

“That’s what I thought.” Raquel’s face lit up. “These organic shells we live in can still be killed. If our minds can only be stored in a flesh-and-blood body—”

“We are all one global pandemic away from being wiped out.” This girl definitely knew her stuff.

She rested her hand on mine. “So, how about you? Are you any closer to figuring it out?”

“Actually, I am.”

“So you’re going to show this Dr. Winslow he’s got it all wrong?”

“That’s the plan.” I squeezed her hand. “Do you want to see what I’m working on?”

“Right now?”

“Sure. My lab’s not too far away.”

She glanced at her friend, who had a nice puddle of drool forming on the table beneath her face. “Why not? It’s not every day I get to see the work of a real genius.”

I laughed. “I don’t know about that, but I think you’ll find it at least slightly interesting. I’m only working on the next evolutionary step for the whole human race.”

“Such modesty.” She stood, still holding my hand. “Let’s go, Doctor.”

We headed for the door, passing the bar-bot moving toward the table with our drinks. I grabbed the glass and downed its contents.

* * *

If I continued for any length of time with this new strategy in my experiments, namely using willing subjects, I’d need to figure out a better way to get them to my lab without having to resort to post-hypnotic suggestion. Raquel stood in the gleaming room, wide-eyed, with no idea how she’d gotten there. I made sure not to frighten her—at least not at first.

She spun around, taking it all in. I smirked when her gaze drifted past the cage in the corner, oblivious of my last test subject still inside. The human mind was so malleable. Weak bodies and weak minds... exactly the opposite of what Master had sent me to this planet to find—or cultivate.

“Your lab is amazing! We have something like this on campus, but I’ve—” Raquel shrieked when she noticed the robot on the table. “Is she dead?”

“It’s quite alright.” I moved toward the table. “She’s not dead. She’s simply not alive.”

“Not alive?” Raquel’s eyes grew wide as she glanced around.

“What I mean to say is, she’s a robot.”

Raquel stopped seeking a possible escape and reached a hand toward the robot. “But it’s... it’s so real.”

“I am very good at what I do.”

“She’s beautiful.”

I smiled. “The way I see it, if you’re going to live forever, you might as well do it in style.”

She touched the skin on the robot’s exposed arm, which was draped over its stomach. “So, consciousness transference is copying the mind—including memories, emotions, everything—and uploading them to this robot, a body that won’t wear out?”

“That’s what I’m after.”

Raquel continued to caress the robot’s arm in reverence. “Would you still be... human? I mean, what about the soul?”

There was that word. It was actually something I’d put a great deal of thought into. The people on nearly every world I’d visited had had some form of religion. Worshipping the stars around them. The land. Mountains. Oceans. Many had myths of immortality of some kind or another, often growing out of the influence of my work on their planet, but none of them spoke of having a part of them that lived on outside their bodies after death. Only on Earth was this the case; here, many religions talked of an afterlife based on this thing called the soul.

“Your soul, of course, is only a manifestation of your mind, your will and emotions. It’s who you are up here.” I pointed to my forehead. “Precisely what we’re talking about.”

She stood transfixed by the robot. “So you could transfer my soul into this...”

“Yes.” I paused. “Well, in theory.”

“I’m not sure I could do it.” Raquel stepped away from the table. “I mean, it’s kind of creepy.”

“How old are you, Raquel?”

“Twenty.”

“How long until the cosmetics no longer work?”

“I...”

“You are beautiful, but in reality, how long do you have until your beauty fades?”

“Thirty, forty years, maybe.”

More like twenty, I thought. “So, thirty or forty years and your body starts to wear out. You wake in the morning with ever-increasing bags under your eyes. Parts of you sag, while other parts bulge outward. Sure, you can fight it off. You can spend hours a day at the gym. Eat salads at every meal. Try all the latest creams and gadgets.” I gestured toward her DermaYoung implant. “This body of yours is fragile under the best of circumstances.”

I turned toward the robot. “That’s where she comes into play. You said she was beautiful. When you are hunched with age, and your skin is so spotted and wrinkled you hardly recognize yourself in the mirror, she will appear exactly as you see her now.”

A gleam appeared in Raquel’s eyes.

“This body is self-repairing, impervious to everything but the most severe trauma, nearly indestructible.”

She laughed nervously. “Where do I sign up?”

I smiled. “Slow down. I said I was almost ready. There are still some tests to run. Of course...” I eyed Raquel. “I could use some help to speed up the process.”

She studied the robot again, her eyes drifting up and down the figure, taking in the firm shape of its body, the flawless perfection of its face.

“I... I guess if it’s for science, how could I say no?”

* * *

Raquel sat on a stool at the foot of the robot. She smiled nervously, but there was definitely a gleam of anticipation in her eyes.

“This may be a little uncomfortable.” I placed the metal sensor array on her head. “Sorry if I mess up your hair.”

Raquel smiled weakly. “Will it hurt?”

“No. Only a slight tingling of electricity at the node locations, but nothing painful, I assure you.”

She took a deep breath and nodded.

“The process is actually quite straightforward. Sensors shoot tiny magnetic currents through your head, imaging a physical map of the brain and the neural activity down to the individual neuron level. The real breakthrough couldn’t happen until processors had reached a point when the computer could map all the electrical activity at the speed the human brain creates it.”

I’d been waiting a very long time for computers to reach this capability... Well, waiting might not be the best word for it, but we can’t let that little secret get out.

“Okay, here we go.”

Raquel closed her eyes as I initiated the transfer. Her eyelids fluttered when the magnetic field coursed through her cranium, but she took several deep breaths and remained calm.

As before, both screens lit up with rows of letters and numbers scrolling upwards. Almost immediately I noticed a difference. The two monitors synced up much more quickly than I’d ever seen before. After only a few moments the screens displayed an identical pattern. And that pattern showed no pain. Some fear, but excitement as well.

The robot shifted slightly. I severed the connection with Raquel and shut down her sensor array. Her monitor went dark, but the robot continued to show a comfortable pattern.

Raquel opened her eyes and glanced down at her hands, turning them over. “Did it—?”

I waved to quiet her. The screen displayed a change in pattern from the copy of Raquel, indicating unique thought. A finger twitched on the robot.

“I thought I was going to be in the robot.” Raquel’s face showed disappointment as she stared at the robot on the table.

“Right now I’m working on making a copy.”

“So a copy of me is in that—?”

“That is yet to be—”

“Her face!” Raquel pointed.

Sure enough, the features on the robot’s face were changing. Bit by bit, they molded themselves into an exact representation of Raquel. More than that, the robot’s once brown hair turned a deep red. Its skin grew pale, and I swear it lost a few inches in height. The robot sat up, opened its eyes, and stared straight at Raquel... then screamed. It grabbed its head with both hands and fell back against the table with a thud.

A quick glance at the screen showed rolling zeros.

I slammed my fists on the desk. “Why is this so hard? I’m running out of time!”

“Out of time?” Raquel raised an eyebrow at me. “Investors?”

“Something like that.” Master expected a report from me soon. All her plans relied on me producing a world to elevate her standing in the Muradine. If she invaded before humanity was a worthy opponent, then she would suffer great shame. That, of course, would manifest itself in never-ending suffering on my part.

Then there was Hunter. He was still out there. If I didn’t get this done before he killed me, she would be furious, and, again, I would regret it for all of eternity. There was a very low possibility for success on my part. I used to relish those odds. Not anymore.

Raquel had a peculiar expression on her face.

“Why are you smiling?” I asked.

“It didn’t work, because I have a soul.”

I shook my head. “I think it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“Why?”

“Because there’s no such thing as a soul. Only the weak dream of a life after this one.” I looked her straight in the eyes, but she continued to smile. “This is all there is.” And that’s more than enough for me.

“You think I’m weak because I believe in something that can’t be seen, some world beyond our ability to measure?” She sat up straighter on the stool. “You think humans are slow-witted to have faith in a soul that will go on living, even when this body wears out?”

Some floodgate inside her had opened, like she’d been bottling up her feelings on the matter for far too long. “Like you, I once believed in a science that studied only what can be discovered with our five senses. I say I’m strong because I believe in the invisible.”

Her voice deepened, and echoed off the sterile walls of my lab. “I have a confidence that says we cannot possibly know all that’s out there. It takes so much more to stand in front of you and say, ‘Yes, I don’t know if there is a life after this one, but I choose to believe there is.’”

Her skin began to shimmer. Darker grays and silver bubbled to the surface. “I choose the harder path, belief in something beyond science. Something above the rational.” Her voice lowered to a growl. “That does not make me weak. Oh, quite the opposite. I am stronger than you could ever imagine.”

Red hair changed to black. Her delicate face squared off, sprouting stubble.

“You!” I staggered back, catching my balance on the desk.

“After all these millennia, I finally caught up to you.”

Hunter stood before me—a creature of pure destruction, built for one purpose—death. There would be no escape tonight.

I smiled. “What took you so long?”

* * *

“You are a most intriguing prey.” Hunter, who hardly resembled a human, let alone the beautiful redhead he’d been moments earlier, circled the robot. “I’ve been admiring your handiwork since the dawn of civilization on this watery world.”

“You’ve been here, all this time?”

“What is time for us immortals, eh?” Something resembling a smile split his face—a face with six black eyes blinking back at me. “I’ve never encountered a scout so dedicated to its master. The lengths you will go to—”

“I only observe.” Even as the words left my mouth I knew he wouldn’t buy it—couldn’t buy it based on the mere existence of the lab we stood within.

“Do not misunderstand me. I admire your dedication—to the point of restraining my hand, even when the evidence was sufficient to warrant your destruction. Even when the complete downfall of your master was assured.”

A glimmer of hope filled me. If Master was brought down... then she couldn’t resurrect me. Death would finally be mine.

“Only now, I’m not so sure.” Hunter had circled around until he stood only a few feet away from me. A smooth tentacle uncoiled from his body and touched my cheek. “Something strange has happened to me over all these millennia. Watching you. Experiencing these beings who are so different than any other found in the universe.”

I stepped back from Hunter’s touch. “They’re not that different.” But he was right. There was something about humanity I’d never discovered before.

“My master also desires worlds worthy of his attention—civilizations to be destroyed that will assure his place above all others. But this world, these humans—”

“Are pathetic.” I spit the words out. “I’ve never failed so miserably at molding a race into beings fit to be conquered.” No sense attempting to hide my true purpose here.

“Not for lack of trying.” Hunter smiled as he caressed the robot with the tip of his tentacle. “Their bodies are so weak—their weapons useless. Earth is in a constant state of near ecological disaster. You said it yourself: the right virus would destroy them. In a matter of weeks, you or I could wipe every living thing off the face of the planet.”

I nodded my head. Thus was the shame of my endeavors. “If I only had more time—”

“Don’t you see? Nowhere else in the universe are there beings of such contradiction. One man rises to power and attempts to conquer the world. Another spends months on his back painting the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. One tries to destroy an entire race in an act of terrible genocide, while another labors in the most wretched conditions her entire life to save orphaned children. There are those who would kill millions without a thought, but others who would die to save only one. Their music, their art, their idealistic belief is in something better—their quest is for a world where good triumphs over evil. Even those who would be called monsters have goodness inside of them. I’ve seen a cold-blooded killer who would give anything for his pet dog. Where does this come from?”

“It’s all about perspective, I guess.”

Hunter touched on something I’d never dared put into words.

“The ultimate good on our world is the destruction of others,” I said. “Humans would call that evil.”

Hunter turned in a pirouette, changing back to the redhead, Raquel. “Not all humans.” He paused, batting green eyes at me. “What do you think? Are we evil, or good?”

I glanced away. He was definitely trying to manipulate me. “There’s no way to answer that. It’s all relative.”

“Is it?”

“Without some kind of outside determination, yes.”

“What does your heart tell you? After all these years with humanity, what is right, and what is wrong?”

He had no idea the nights I’d pondered that very question. Never before, on any other world, had I thought what I did for Master could be labeled as wrong or evil.

I fought against the words that surged inside me—against the desire to finally speak. To confess to the horror I had become—the horror I had always been.

“What was all that talk about a soul?”

He smiled. “You’re changing the subject.”

“Am I?”

“Don’t you see?” He motioned toward the robot. “You couldn’t transfer my consciousness into your little friend here.”

“I know. I’ve been having issues.”

“With humans. But as you can see…” The redhead’s face shifted for a moment to Hunter’s. “I’m not human.”

He was right, of course. There was nothing substantively different between the makeup of the robot on the table and Hunter. Both consisted of billions of microscopic nano-bots, all working together as a unit. “So you think you’ve somehow acquired a soul while hanging out on this planet?”

“Honestly, I don’t know what to think. But something has changed. Our whole civilization, back to before we transitioned to these bodies, has been about expansion at any cost. Taking what we need from those who are too weak to keep it. This is our right. There is no purer motivation.”

“But now you question that very foundation?”

He nodded. “I think you do too.”

Before I came to this world, it would have been impossible for me to even contemplate such a thought, but I would deny it no longer. “My heart says we are wholly evil. That the blood we’ve poured out over the vast reaches of the universe brands us as completely irredeemable and devoid of anything good.”

That was what haunted me. The blessing of immortality was nothing more than a curse. For all eternity, I would be haunted by the intimate knowledge of my own evil.

Hunter smiled.

“You find this humorous? What kind of sick game are you playing?”

“Don’t you see? How could we agree? You and I are pinnacles of evolution—the ultimate survivors. Are we just getting soft in our old age?”

“We’ve been old for a very long time.”

Hunter nodded. “So, you and I reach the same conclusion at the same time, after all these lifetimes? No, there’s something about this world...”

“Something worth saving.” I said the words I’d never dared think. It was treason.

“Something worth dying for.”

“I’ve wanted nothing more than to die for millennia.” I spit the words out.

“As have I, but what nobility can be found in a death without meaning?” He glanced at the robot on the table.

I closed my eyes, feeling the immense weight of years heaped upon me, crushing the air from my lungs. “But this life... What kind of life is this?”

He placed his hand on my arm. “You can’t truly live until you find something worth dying for.”

My breath caught in my chest as I looked into his eyes, Raquel’s eyes. “The only worthy death is one granted after a job well done.” How hollow my words sounded.

“How much greater would be a life laid down for those who cannot save themselves. How wretched are these humans. How desperately in need of someone to champion their cause.”

Something built within me that hadn’t existed since Master had first commissioned me as Scout. Something I hadn’t thought I’d ever feel again: a sense of purpose.

“So, what do we do? Humanity is so weak. It could take ten thousand years to make them strong enough to resist the empire.”

“Our hope isn’t in strength, but in weakness.”

Hunter saw the puzzled expression on my face.

“If we convinced the Muradine of Earth’s insignificance, of how utterly embarrassing it would be to conquer—”

“Then they would never invade.”

“Precisely.”

An excitement surged through me. “I’ll prepare my report.” I spun around, heading for the terminal. “Master—”

The lights went out, bathing the lab in darkness.

“Master is displeased with you.”

It was a voice I’d truly hoped to never hear again.

A pale green glow filled the far end of the lab, and a form shimmered into being. A terrible black and silver figure glowed with a slick green sheen. “You have been a bad boy, Scout.”

I dropped to my knees. “No, I—”

A blur to my left cut me off. Even as Hunter lunged past, his shape changed from the frail redhead to a beast meant for one purpose: killing. Limbs elongated into blades two meters long. Muscles rippled along his back legs as he charged forward, driving his weapons toward the center of the shadowy form. That he would dare attack a member of the royal family—

The shadow coalesced into a humanoid shape and stepped aside. Hunter crashed into the wall behind. In a flash of green light, Master spun and placed her hand on the back of his head. Light coursed down Master’s arm and Hunter exploded into a cloud of dust. The tiny nanite cells ripped apart and scattered across the floor.

Master turned to me, her face still in shadow, her body changing every moment, from humanoid, to a creature with several heads and appendages, to a formless blob. I couldn’t focus on her.

“I failed you.” This would be my undoing.

“This world is not ready?”

I imagined the joy she would take in punishing me and shook my head. “They may never be an opponent worthy of the Muradine.”

Her ever-changing form moved toward me.

Somehow I had to make her leave and never come back. “Do with me what you will. It’s impossible—”

“Enough.” Her voice rumbled through the room. Slowly she undulated along the floor. “You have been a valuable scout, but I would be weak if I allowed you to continue living.”

The words I had longed to hear, had yearned for all these millennia, smote me over the head.

“Your work here has been nothing short of pathetic. You are useless to me, and the end has come.” Towering over me, she slowly snaked a blob of mechanical flesh toward me, the tip coming to rest under my chin.

“As much as it pains me, stand and receive your reward. I suppose you have served me well on other worlds.” Her appendage slithered around my neck and lifted me to my feet.

“Goodbye, Scout.” Her tentacle squeezed, and my mind went black.

* * *

Intense heat awoke me from darkness. I pushed into my cells, which filled a shallow depression in the ground, and formed myself into the shape I now felt most comfortable in. Standing upon two shaky legs I breathed deep the moist air. I smiled. This should have been her most heinous punishment, promising death at last but instead casting me onto some newly made world to begin my eons-long struggle once more.

In that, she had misjudged.

No longer would I be dedicated to building a world she would one day deem worthy of conquest. I had a new purpose—a new master.

I looked up into a dark, star-filled sky. Somewhere out there was a small blue orb—and on that planet, a people unlike any other in the universe.

A people worth dying for... Or, even, a people worth never dying for.

The End

This story will be continued in the Exodus Chronicles. Be sure to sign up for my mailing list to hear when the first book, Enslaved, is published.

Note From the Author

With new planets discovered, on a seemingly daily basis, many in the Goldilocks Zone (not too hot, and not too cold) it doesn’t seem unreasonable to think there are planets besides our own that harbor life. And it’s not a huge step to think there might be creatures on other worlds with intelligence far beyond our own. But if that’s the case, why haven’t they discovered us yet?

One answer could be, maybe they have. Some have proposed that we as a species haven’t reached a level worthy of notice by advanced beings. If this is the case, what measure is being used to define our worth? What line must we cross before an alien race takes notice of us?

In the Star Trek universe, this was warp drive capability—humans invent warp drive, and the Vulcans show up. But even with warp drive, humans would still be, well, human. Our potential to process thought, and understand the universe around us, hasn’t really changed since the first humans walked the planet. Sure technology has improved, but our brain capacity hasn’t.

It is widely speculated that the next step in human evolution will be when we make the jump from organic bodies to the digital realm. When our minds are uploaded to computers that have processing power far beyond our three-pounds of gray matter.

Is that what the aliens are waiting for? Are they just biding their time until we are creatures they can relate to, communicate with? But, what would happen if they grew impatient? Maybe they’d work to help us out a little?

That’s what I’m exploring in Scout. It’s a look at one alien, and his work on Earth to help mankind reach the point where we are worthy of notice by the rulers of his home-world. The only problem, for us, is that notice isn’t something we really want.

Scout is a prequel short story to my sci-fi trilogy: The Exodus Chronicles. The first book, Enslaved, will be out some time next year. I also write sci-fi and fantasy for kids through adults. You can learn more at www.drobertpease.com or subscribe to my newsletter here: www.drobertpeaser.com/mailinglist where you can get free copies of my stories, and learn about new releases.

Get your FREE copy of the Noah Zarc prequel

and find out what really happened outside of

Roswell New Mexico in 1947.

Get started here:

www.drobertpease.com/MailingList

About the Author

Epic adventures filled most of D. Robert Pease’s childhood. Middle Earth, and the planets of Dune were his stomping grounds. It’s not surprising he chose to write stories with worlds just beyond reach but familiar enough for readers to get lost in new lands with epic adventures all their own.

D. Robert lives in the grey-skied world of Northeast Ohio with his wife, son, daughter, dog, cat, and a back yard pond full of goldfish. When not writing, he loves travelling the country in an RV and riding his bike up and down the hills of Ohio.

Find out more at www.drobertpease.com Also, sign up to be the first to hear about new releases at www.drobertpease.com/MailingList

If you liked this story, please take a moment to leave a review on Amazon. Other than telling your friends to buy a copy of their own, reviewing an author’s stories is the best thing you can do for them. Thank you.

Special Sneak Preview

DREAM WARRIORS

A Joey Cola Novel - Book 1

This young adult urban fantasy, featuring magic in a modern setting, is now available.

CHAPTER ONE

It was a strange sensation, the feeling of fear and pity, hatred and apathy wrestling against each other like brothers are wont to do.

I was running through the streets of New York City—one moment in a panic because I was sure I’d be caught, the next dumbfounded by the illogical situation. One of the youngest students ever accepted into MIT should be on top of the world, a leader among men. Instead, I ran from a couple of hoodlums who, to make matters worse, just happened to be my brothers—well, two of them anyway.

I glanced past the violin case on my shoulder, over to the alley entrance. Maybe I’d lost them. It wasn’t like they were hard to put off the scent. All it’d take is some distraction. Heck, even the sound of the ice cream truck would probably be enough to make them forget today was “beat on Joseph day.”

No such luck.

A shadow streaked across the narrow band of blue sky above and in front of me. Maybe my brothers would break their weasely little necks with their parkour nonsense.

I took a quick right into another alley. Brightly colored shirts and underwear hung on ropes between the windows, fluttering in a warm summer breeze that somehow made its way down among the towering apartment buildings that filled this part of the Bronx. I almost laughed at a flowery bra that danced above me as I ran past. Some people had no problem airing even their most private laundry out for the whole world to see. That was not my family at all. We Colafranceschis would rather die than look anything less than perfect.

Of course, my twin brothers did everything they could to disrupt that family code. Today was Exhibit A.

“You can run, but you can’t hide,” Sergio yelled from behind me.

I spun around to see my brother swing down from a fire escape. He hit the ground twenty feet below the ladder and rolled once before leaping to his feet. The twins practiced parkour nonstop, recording each other doing crazy leaps from rooftop to rooftop, or climbing up the sides of buildings all in one fluid motion. They wanted to be stuntmen in Hollywood.

If they weren’t so darned stupid, they actually could make it. They were pretty incredible to watch, when I wasn’t running in fear.

“If I wanted to hide, there’d be no way you’d find me. You couldn’t find your own shadow if it was right behind you,” I yelled back.

This stopped him in his tracks for a second. He turned around almost as if he expected to find his shadow gone.

I took advantage as his body worked to catch up with his brain. “See you at home, you dumb oaf.” Diving between his legs, I wondered where the twin doofus might be lurking.

Igor didn’t make me wonder for long. I ran back into the alley I’d just left, only to see him leaping back and forth across the open space between the buildings—zigzagging down from window ledge to window ledge until he reached the pavement. He looked like someone straight out of a video game.

Both brothers were wiry masses of sinew and bone. They lived in muscle shirts, showing off their hard-earned biceps. Igor sported a sorry excuse for a goatee, the mustache and hair on his chin missing their connection with each other by quite a bit. He of course thought it gave him an “advantage with the ladies.”

I just thought it made an already dull face even more idiotic. If they did ever make it in the movies, it’d have to be for long camera shots—no close-ups on that face, please.

“Why don’t you just take your beating like a man?” Igor wiped his hands on his shirt and started toward me. “Oh, I forgot, it’s because you’re nothing but a widdle biddy crybaby.”

Sergio closed in behind me. “Yeah, widdle Joey crybaby is gonna need his mommy to make his boo-boos feel all better.”

I fired back. “You know, you only do this because of a lack of respect for yourself. You realize how worthless you really are, and you project that feeling on me. Freud said, ‘Emotions or excitations which the ego tries to ward off are spit out and then felt as being outside the ego, perceived in another person.’ You feel worthless so you see me as worthless. When you beat on me, you are actually beating on yourself.”

My brothers looked at me with an expression of complete incomprehension. “Well, if Fraud told me to kick your butt, who am I to argue with him?” Igor said.

There would be no getting away today. I held out my hands. “Let me put down the Strad.”

The twins stopped their advance for a moment as I unslung my backpack from one shoulder, my violin case off the other. The “Strad” in question was the Berliano Stradivari of 1707, a violin worth in excess of $2 million, a gift from the Italian government for the years of service my father had dedicated to U.S.-Italian relations. My brothers had no idea of its worth, only that Father would quite literally put them in the hospital for a very long time if any harm came to it.

Of course, if Father knew I was carrying it back and forth to school, I’d be in major trouble too, but I just couldn’t play anything else. It produced a sound unlike anything I’d ever heard.

I’d been playing the violin since the age of six, after learning that Einstein had been quite the accomplished violinist. It was a means to clear my head. When I had a most pressing problem that required an unusual solution, the violin brought clarity that nothing else could. Too bad my brothers wouldn’t be interested in a little concert in the alleyway. This was definitely a problem begging for a solution.

The rational side of me, the side that could come up with a nearly infinite list of reasons these two weren’t worth the brainpower to debate with, somehow took a backseat when they started moving toward me again.

To my utter shame, I lowered myself to their level. “Don’t forget what Mom said. If I come home with a single bruise, she’ll break every bone in both your miserable bodies.”

“Oh, your mommy is gonna break all our bones?” Igor advanced toward me. “I’ve got something for yo’ mamma if she ever tries it.” He grabbed himself in the crotch.

“I’ll kill you if you ever touch my mom!” I lunged forward, but Sergio grabbed me from behind.

Igor plowed forward and drove his fist into my stomach. “I’d love to see you try.”

Sergio drove his knee into my back and knocked me to the ground.

I closed my eyes and curled up in a ball. I wouldn’t cry this time. No matter what.

* * *

I stood in front of the steps to our house. Growing up, I thought we lived in a castle—four stories of glorious, red brick. It even had a turret running from the street level all the way up past the top floor. My bedroom was at the very top of the turret.

My older brothers said this old brownstone, on the corner of East 138th and Charles, was nothing compared to where they lived in Italy, when Father had served as the US Ambassador.

But I couldn’t imagine anyplace better. Who’d want to live in Italy anyway? Actually, I did regret where we lived at times. So many of the great minds of the past had been Italians—Da Vinci being one of the many I idolized—the original Renaissance man, an artist and engineer, a man so consumed by the world around him that he left no area of study untouched.

I climbed the stairs and opened the front door.

The twins were usually pretty careful not to hit me anywhere my mom would see. My ribs felt like pulverized bone and my hair was a mess, but other than that she’d have no idea unless I told her, and I could never do that. I had to find a way on my own, some way to show them I wouldn’t break under their bullying. If I just went “crying to mommy” after every beating, Sergio and Igor would keep coming after me, and each time would be worse than the last.

Mom hollered from the kitchen as I closed the front door. “Is that you, Joseph?”

“Yes, Mom.” I clenched my teeth, trying not to let the pain sound in my voice.

“Supper will be ready in an hour,” she said from the other room. “Your father wishes to speak with you. He’s in the library.”

“All right.” I headed for the stairs.

“And Joseph?”

“Yes, Mom?” I turned to see her standing in the archway to the dining room, a towel in her hands.

“Get yourself out of those clothes and make yourself decent. You look like you’ve been wrestling with a couple of pigs.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I hobbled up the stairs.

She knew. She always knew.

“Mom?”

She turned back from the kitchen door. “Yes?”

“Let me deal with the twins, please?”

She studied me for a moment, and I could almost see the battle she waged within her mind.

“I’m not a kid anymore.”

“I know, it’s just—” She cut herself off, and nodded.

“Thank you, Mom.”

As I climbed up to my bedroom on the third floor, I forgot all about Sergio, Igor, and Mom’s sixth sense. Why did Father want to talk to me? He never wanted to talk to me unless I was in trouble, and that hadn’t happened for a couple of years. I wrapped my arm around my chest, holding my ribs together. What could he want? Did it have anything to do with me heading off to college in a couple months? I’d heard him bragging to his friends last night at his weekly poker game.

* * *

“My son is attending MIT.”

“Which son?” Tony Carruso had said. “You’ve got so many.”

“What do you mean, which son? Joseph, the smart one. Only fifteen years old and he’s graduating at the top of his high school class. He’ll be one of the youngest kids ever to go to MIT.”

Tony whistled. “Maybe he’ll even learn something. He’s probably not even into girls yet.”

They all had laughed at that.

More like girls aren’t into me, I thought.

“Imagine how much better I coulda done in college if I didn’t have the dames hanging all over me.”

Mom had chosen that moment to sneak up behind me and pull me away from the door by my ear. “It is not polite to eavesdrop.” She smiled. “Even if the subject of the conversation is yourself.”

* * *

I entered my room and closed the door. That must be why Father wants to talk. Probably feels it’s time for some father-to-son wisdom.

I threw my backpack on the bed and turned to a mirror perched on top of my six-drawer dresser. My tongue immediately went to the corner of my mouth, where a trickle of blood was already drying. I reached up to my left eye and winced. I’d have a shiner, too. I guess one of my idiot brother’s elbows had, in fact, left a mark or two on my face.

One day they’d regret using me as their personal punching bag. I could bide my time until then, and would add this beating to the long list I kept of my brothers’ transgressions.

End of Preview

Learn more about Dream Warriors, the first book in the Joey Cola urban fantasy series by award-winning author, D. Robert Pease:

Joseph Colafranceschi is a fifteen-year-old, self-described geek, living in the Bronx. The second youngest of twelve sons of the former U.S. ambassador to Italy, Joey discovers that a small Egyptian statuette, given to him by his father, endows him with power to control his dreams.

After his brothers throw him down a manhole, Joey is drawn into a hidden society of warriors who have been battling a reincarnated Egyptian Pharaoh for over 3,000 years. In the dream world, everyone is not what they appear to be, and it’s impossible to tell who to trust. As Joey slips deeper into a world of gladiator battles and clandestine missions within other people’s dreams, he catches the eye of a beautiful Egyptian princess.

The only thing that keeps him grounded in reality is his best friend Alex, but even she may not be who he thought she was.

Praise for Dream Warriors:

“I loved Noah Zarc, Mr. Pease’s MG trilogy. And I enjoyed his recent grown up fantasy, Shadow Swarm. But this is his best book yet. Just as Noah was a loose parody of the Bible story, so Joey has similarities to the biblical story of Joseph. If you’re familiar with those old favorites, I’ll let you pick out the parallels--there’s a bunch. But Joey soon takes a dive into the fantasy world that’s full of originality, fun, danger, romance, and suspense. There are some great twists and turns in here that I never saw coming! This one is appropriately billed as YA. There is some violence, but it’s mostly, well, dreamlike. Dream warriors have some great gladiator scenes, but they can’t die. Mortal blows simply send them back to wakefulness. But they can be killed if they’re followed back to their physical bodies. Also, romance is sweet. There’s some very mild sensuality. Nothing I’d censor for my kids (and I’m pretty conservative), but it might be enough to gross out fourth or fifth graders. Language is 100% clean. I highly, highly recommend this one for anyone eighth grade or older.”— Michelle Isenhoff

“Must say I was very impressed with this book. Very enjoyable. It even had me jumping off my bed in anxious excitement at one point. A mix of fantasy, action, mythology and our very own dreams. There is a bit of romance, some fun fight scenes, lots of ‘familiar’ faces, magic and a hint of mythology. A wonderful blend that I quickly latched onto and held on to the end. As soon as I finished this book, I jumped online to learn more about the next book. I am so impatient to read it!”— J. Rivera

“Yes, this is a book intended for young adults, but I enjoyed it so much that I immediately turned around to read it a second time. I wanted to make sure I had not missed any subtle clues Mr. Pease may have given. I didn’t miss anything that might have warned me of the ending to come, but was surprised at the detail that went into building the dream world and how it works. The characters are the type that stay with you long after you turn the page and close the book. I am admitting that as a woman well into middle age I am eagerly awaiting book two in this series to be released in March of 2015. I will definitely have a note on my calendar to be on the lookout for the next gem. If you do not want to wait for March after you finish Dream Warriors, you may want check D. Robert Pease’s Noah Zarc Trilogy.”— Del Anne

“What nerdy, geeky kid wouldn’t want to fall asleep and wake up in a dream world where he morphed into a cross between King Leonidas and the Incredible Hulk? This element of the story alone is enough to draw readers to Dream Warriors. The story rates five stars, it was a fun read and I’d recommend it to readers age 13 and up.”— Kevin Gerard

Find out how to read the rest of Dream Warriors by visiting www.drobertpease.com.

More from D. Robert Pease

The Noah Zarc Trilogy:

Book One

Noah Zarc: Mammoth Trouble

Noah lives for piloting spaceships through time, dodging killer robots and saving Earth’s animals from extinction. Life couldn’t be better. But the twelve-year-old time traveler learns it could be a whole lot worse. His mom is kidnapped and taken to Mars; his dad is stranded in the Ice Age; and Noah is attacked at every turn by a foe bent on destroying Earth… for the second time.

Book Two

Noah Zarc: Cataclysm

Thirteen-year-old Noah Zarc rockets to Venus in a quest to learn more about his past. He refuses to believe his father is really the monster everyone says he is. Could there be valid reasons for everything he’s done, including abandoning Noah at birth?

While searching for answers to secrets no one wants to talk about, even those that have remained hidden for over a thousand years, Noah becomes embroiled in a mission that could cause the greatest cataclysm in the history of the solar system. Will his name, Noah Zarc, be forever linked to the most devastating crime in humanity’s existence, all because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time?

Book Three

Noah Zarc: Declaration

As battles rage across the solar system, Noah must work to join together a rag-tag bunch of miners, farmers, and scientists who would rather just live in peace. With only a time-traveling ship full of animals and a general from the history books, the Zarc family has to stand against the full might of the Poligarchy.

Will the truth about what really happened a thousand years in the past be enough to stop total war, or will Noah and his friends need to find another way to bring down a dictator?

Praise for the Noah Zarc Trilogy:

“Pease’s strength as a storyteller lies in his ability to connect multiple time periods imaginatively, as well as Noah’s excited, fast-paced narration.”

— Publishers Weekly

“I enjoyed reading every page of Noah Zarc: Mammoth Trouble—it’s an exciting, fun, stay-up-all-night-reading kind of book.”

— Twelve-year-old Amazon Reviewer

“I was absolutely blown away by how well this book is written…. The setting is nothing short of brilliant in its conception. I love, love, love the way Pease used the Biblical story of Noah’s Ark as a very loose skeleton for this story. That said, there is nothing religious about this book, and it could and should certainly grace the bookshelves of every school library!”

— Tina Chen, blogger at www.desperatehomeschoolers.com

“LOVE LOVE LOVE… I don't know if there is enough room to express how much I enjoyed this book… the story line is original and interesting, the descriptions and locations lively and the action is nonstop… and my favorite part… this is a smart book. The adventure and characters will surely capture our attention, but the philosophies and deeper subjects will capture your mind and have you thinking well past the last page.”

— Kirstin Pulioff, Author and Blogger at www.kirstinpulioff.com

“This is a fabulous dystopian world! Mr. Pease makes it sound so real and believable. I wouldn’t be surprised if this actually happened in the future (hmm… maybe Mr. Pease is the time traveler?).”

— Erik, twelve-year-old Author and Blogger at www.thiskidreviewsbooks.com

A Very Special Edition:

Noah Zarc: Omnibus

Special 3-books-in-1 Edition with Exclusive Illustrations

This special edition Middle Grade Science Fiction adventure is now available as an eBook or as a hardcover.

In a future where Earth has been wiped clean of all life, and humanity has moved on to other worlds, twelve-year-old Noah Zarc and his family have embarked on a quest, in a time-traveling spaceship called the ARC, to retrieve two of every animal and repopulate a dead world.

Praise for Noah Zarc: Omnibus:

“There’s really not enough science fiction for kids that has awesome straight-up science—not just the humorous space fantasies that most SciFi for kids seems to dish out—but Noah Zarc has the goods! This trilogy is exactly the kind of SF I wish I had as a kid—lots of adventures, great (male and female!) heroes, and fun time-travel tech that’s out of this world. And it’s the kind my own kids love now. The great interior illustrations make the Omnibus the way to go! Hand this trilogy to your kids and don’t expect to hear back from them for a while.”

— Susan Quinn (Amazon)

“Why the Omnibus edition? Well if you don’t own any in the series yet, you get all three for a discounted price when buying this edition. Already own all three? Still worth it. The illustrations are great and only available in the omnibus. Many times as I found myself thinking ‘I would love to see what he looks like’ or ‘what would that look like,’, and there it was. There are not so many pictures that make you feel like you are just reading a child’s book. There are just enough to give it that extra special touch. The stories of Noah Zarc are fantastic and it was great for me to keep right on reading through as if the book never stopped instead of reading each book individually, which are ALL fantastic. Pease writes with such detail it is impossible to not be able to picture exactly what is going on and feeling a part of the adventures. I felt like I was watching the book at times instead of reading it, and I love when I feel that from a book.”

— Tracy Haidle (Amazon)

A *FREE* Prequel:

Noah Zarc: Roswell Incident — A Short Story

This special prequel to the Noah Zarc Trilogy, a Middle Grade Science Fiction adventure, is now available as a FREE eBook. Click here to find out how to get your copy.

What really happened on July 14, 1947 outside of Roswell, New Mexico? Did an alien spaceship crash, only to be confiscated by the U.S. government? There’s one kid who knows the whole story, and even though he might get in a heap of trouble for telling it, he just can’t keep quiet any longer.

An Epic Fantasy

Shadow Swarm

An Epic Fantasy spanning millennia, set in a world full of magic and dark forces where creatures of legend come alive. (Great for readers 15 and up.)

Born to Rule. Lived to Heal. Died to Save. Born Again.

Aberthol Nauile doesn’t know that he beheld the creation of the world, ravaged by a war of the gods, and began anew; or that he led legions in a war that had raged since the dawn of time; or that he once rode on a dragon with his father. All he knows is that he awoke in a coffin deep within a tomb, hearing voices in his head, and now the whole world thinks he is their savior.

Praise for Shadow Swarm:

“Shadow Swarm sucked me in….”

— Michelle Isenhoff, Amazon reviewer

“Great action adventure!”

— AllisonBurres, Amazon reviewer

“Bravo, well done….”

— usafe7ret, Amazon reviewer

“It’s extremely poetic and something I haven’t seen done in any other book that I’ve read.” — Tara Lee, Amazon reviewer

“D. has a way of spinning a story that engrosses you from the moment you begin reading.” — LizzieBeth, Amazon reviewer

“Shadow Swarm is a new novel that goes beyond touching the surface of fantasy and takes the reader into a whole new level of fiction.”

— Lois Ann, reviewer

Table of Contents

Copyright

Other Books by D. Robert Pease

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Note From the Author

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About the Author

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