A funny question came to me one day while I was watching the science channel. Some astrophysicist was talking about a theory that everything we know is actually layers of dimensions. He listed a bunch of other theories and how each was thought to be crazy until it debunked the previous theory.
And a thought came to me...what if we knew nothing about what the universe actually is? What if we are merely byproducts of living organisms overlapping?
And what would happen if one of those layers (electromagnetism) woke up and fell in love with a human?
That's how my book, SHE, was born. It's 3/4 complete as of today and shelved until I finish book 3 of my billionaire's series. Still, I thought you might like to see a sample of a different type of writing from me. Of course, it's a bit over the top -- but would you expect anything different from me?
And without further explanation....here is chapter one of SHE:
This document has been sent to your planet because
the humans in your solar system were deemed to have evolved enough to receive
the answers to the questions that plague most evolving species.
To
understand where you came from and why you are here, you must first let go of
the misconceptions of your scientists.
The
“Big Bang” did, indeed, consist of four forces of nature: electromagnetism, a weak force, a strong
force and gravity. However, unlike what
you may have learned in your universities, they were living beings.
These large
membranes -- or dimensions, as some of your scientists call them, floated on an
ocean of Dark Energy - conscious, but without the ability to communicate with
each other. All matter existed where
they overlapped, a place called “the area of interaction.”
This document is
your only warning.
The universe
sleeps no more and your survival depends on theirs.
Prophesy 23 of the banished Guardian
On the heels of a sun storm,
One of four will awaken to her mate.
The end will begin with spreading night
And beget a war of dark and light.
Chapter One
Magnetic waves of a solar flare
propelled a small cargo ship off course and opened a connection between one
dimension and the area of interaction. Electromagnetism's
consciousness burst through and easily mingled with the gamma rays being
emitted by the sun.
My mate
has come! The newly freed entity
thought.
Her initial joy was quickly
squashed by the realization that he was in danger. The heat was too much for his ship's shields. In a few
seconds, they would fail and the metal would melt away.
She modified her frequency and
entwined her energy with that of his vehicle, easily deflecting the radiation
of the flare. His minute craft drifted
for a moment, then under a power source of its own, began to move away.
No!
She took hold of the ship at a nuclear level and brought it to an abrupt stop,
sending her promised one flying across the interior.
“That’s gonna hurt,” the creature
said just before he impacted with the metal casing of the control panels and
slipped into unconsciousness.
She reached out to him, into him
and immediately wished the Guardians had spoken more of organic life forms. For
although she had felt his birth and known that he would come for her, she had
never been able to connect with him. Like most life forms, he had been
imperceptible in any detail until this moment.
Hydrogen, carbon, oxygen and
nitrogen bonded together to create this mostly water-based creature. Here was a delicate combination of molecules;
each following carefully designed encoded strands. Beautiful.
She moved on to study the network
of his internal system, searching for a way to communicate with him. Incased in a protective bone, she found an
organ with synapses that produced electro-chemical bursts of energy she could
understand. Pictures. Smells.
Languages.
Memories from all stages of his
life swirled before her like a kaleidoscope, as vivid and tangible as the day
he’d experienced them. She tasted the
warm sweetness of a sugared fruit pie, shared his excitement as he battled to
reel in a trillin half the size of himself, and reveled in the tingling
sensations of his first kiss. Nothing in
her solitary existence had prepared her for the beauty and complexity of this
creature.
An involuntary cry of pain from him
halted her exploration. His fragility
was unexpected. She’d assumed that her
intended one would share her physical state. He should have been a membrane of
energy spanning and affecting every corner of the cosmos. Instead, he was a multi-cellular organism of
negligible size who required a metal can to travel through space.
She continued her search, lessening
her contact with him and discovered that the beacon she had sent out since his
birth, hoping he would follow it to her, had been interpreted by his mind into
a much different message. His memories were replete with sexual dreams
involving one fictional female, close to his height, with long, flowing brown
hair. Dark green eyes. Soft curves.
Me
in human form.
She, who had always simply been,
decided to become. Creation was a new
experience for her. She was the
maintainer, the energy that powered all matter, not the artist who shaped
it.
She concentrated on his design and
gathered matter from space to create his ideal woman. Her new human shell demanded oxygen to survive. She rematerialized herself onto his ship.
As her bare feet touched the cold
metal of the craft’s floor, she lost a battle to maintain her balance, landed
with a thud on her backside and laughed with joy at the unexpected sensation.
Since the initial separation, she'd
been part of all that was -- pulsing through the expanding cosmos. But, until this moment, she hadn’t realized
how absolute her isolation had been.
This body she had created filtered all but the immediate stimuli. Her organic mind simplified the input,
narrowed her vision and made sense of the chaos. For the first time, she could see and feel.
She enthusiastically inhaled the
recycled, stale oxygen.
I
am alive! Free!
Can
the Guardians stop me?
The second thought was sobering.
They would soon return to feed on her again.
What would they do when they discovered her disappearance? What could they do?
Unlike her, the Guardians absorbed
energy, rather than producing it. They
were able to traverse the layers of dimensions, but only where they
overlapped. From conversations she had
overheard while they fed, she knew that their greatest concern was
survival.
She also knew that their understanding
of her was limited. They regarded her
much as her mate perceived the stars, as a source of energy, but devoid of
consciousness. The Guardians did not see
the truth, that their universe was the beautiful product of living energy
mingling.
There had been a time, long ago,
when she’d tried to communicate with the Guardians. They’d confused her energy spikes with danger
and hadn’t returned until her attempts had ceased.
It was upon their return that she’d
learned of him, the one who lay before her. One guardian had spoken of a great
storm that would rouse her and bring her mate to her, commencing a chain of
events that would forever change the cosmos and end the reign of the
Guardians. They had banished the
prophetic guardian to the Milky Way, but had discussed him many times over the
following millennium. Some thought his
prophecies were dark and improbable.
Some vowed to insure it did not happen.
They would not be pleased.
Would they follow her? Could they force her to go back? She was not certain of her ability to fight
them if they did. She cleansed space of all energy trails that could lead them
to her and the action left her somewhat drained -- an entirely new experience
for her. The one constant in her
existence to this point had been endless, regenerating power. Perhaps choosing to become organic had
changed that. What that meant to her and
to the stability of the cosmos, she didn't know and didn't care to put much
speculation into. She just needed to stay in this form long enough to bond with
her mate, the universe would take care of the rest. She had faith in the
greater plan.
The creature before her moaned,
drawing her attention. She stood slowly
and stepped toward her mate. His hair was much shorter than hers, but a similar
dark color. His form was longer, wider
and hidden from view by some sort of costume.
She ran her fingertips down the brown material covering on one of his
legs and shivered at the pleasure of its coarseness.
He wore two layers of material on
the upper part of his body. She explored
both. The thick outer material was similar in feel to his leg coverings. The
cloth he wore beneath it was smoother, softer and as she rested her hand on it,
she marveled at the warmth of his body and the steady beat of an organ within.
She peeked beneath the cloth near his neck and
noted the dark hair that covered his chest. A quick glance down confirmed that
their forms were quite different. She poked first at his upper arm and then
hers. His muscles stood rock hard,
resistant to pressure, unlike the soft flesh of hers. Palm to palm, she compared their hands. His were rougher, darker and nearly a third
larger than her own.
Wake
up! She kicked him lightly in the side.
When he did not stir, she kicked again, harder.
Daniel groaned at the sharp pain.
Gods, he ached all over.
With one hand rubbing at his
pounding forehead, he used the other to push himself into a sitting
position. The solar flare must have
knocked out the engines. Hopefully it was something he knew how to fix. “We’ve been through worse, Betty.” He patted
the floor of the cargo ship sympathetically. “I’ll get you back online as soon
as the room stops spinning.”
Two perfectly shaped bare feet came
into view as he lowered his hand. He leapt to his feet, instantly wishing he
hadn’t when he almost succumbed to nausea as pain shot through his body.
His hand instinctively flew to his
side and grasped at emptiness. Oh, Gods,
he didn’t remember taking his belt off.
That meant his pulser could be anywhere. He’d never expected to need it
while so deep in space.
Word must have gotten out that he
was after the red crystal. Did this
woman think he’d be so bowled over by her naked body that he would let her stop
him? Or worse, let her steal it out from
under him once he got his hands on it?
She had quite a let down coming.
“Who in all the blue moons are
you?” He enjoyed the flinch his bellow elicited, but couldn't help wondering at
the same time why she looked familiar.
Her answer came within his
thoughts. Your destiny.
His fists clenched. “Destiny, my
ass. And did I mention that I hate
telepaths?” He checked the short range scanner, but the screen was black. Damn.
Where the hell had she beamed from? He smacked a hand on the dead
controls. There could have been a huge
ship sitting right beside him and unless he went to check a portal, he wasn’t
going to know.
Do
not be frightened. I am alone.
“I’m not the one who should be
afraid in this situation.” There was a
time when he wouldn’t have questioned such a cosmic gift. Even after his enslavement, there had often
been women who’d been turned on by his notoriety. Didn’t seem to matter to them
that he’d failed his people. They
wanted, if only for a night, to be part of something that had been recorded by
the historians of every race of beings in the Cluster.
For a while, he’d found comfort in
their misplaced obsession with him. But remembering was too high a price to
pay, even for sex. Better to wait and
stipulate silence as part of a purchase.
Which brought him back to the bold
woman in front of him. Who the hell
beams naked onto a slave ship?
This
body was unclothed in your mind. She answered within his thoughts again.
Oh, shit, a bio-morphing telepath? Did those
even exist? Somehow this alien had taken
the form of the woman he’d imagined in every lustful daydream since puberty.
Could she be Thobian? They were the only known race of telepaths.
If she was, she was no groupie. His
grandmother had initiated the Inter-galactic council’s mandate to rid the
Cluster of them. They’d been exiled
since his early childhood.
No, the only reason a Thobian would
come to him would be if there was something in it for her people. Were they now silent allies with the Agadyrn Empire? It would make sense. Sweet revenge.
Time to stop gaping at her like a
schoolboy lusting after his first female simulator program and figure out what
she was really after. “Put some
clothes on. You're wasting your
time. I haven't been alone in space that long."
She took a step closer to him and
he felt an involuntary response to her nearness. The age-old method of using a man’s bodily
functions against him was obviously still effective. He was rock hard almost instantly. Shit.
If
you are uncomfortable with my lack of covering, why is this form always exposed
in your thoughts?
Using his favorite method of
defense against telepaths, he filled his mind with pictures of comic simulated
characters and took a step toward the back room.
Where
are you going? she asked within his
thoughts.
He took another sideways step, but
kept his eyes on her. Normally he would
assume that she wasn’t armed because, Gods knew, she had nowhere on her to hide
the weapon, but she looked far too confident not to have some hidden defense.
Just a few more feet and he could
scan the back room. Hopefully he’d left
the pulser somewhere easy to reach. His
last one had somehow ended up in the clothing freshener. That could happen to
anyone, he reassured himself, and forced his attention back on the present
issue.
He would definitely have to invest
in an anti-beaming shield for his next mission.
That is, if there was a next mission. He couldn’t let her stop him.
Without the crystal, he wouldn’t be able to buy his freedom from Dyrgrimr.
She was in his mind, sorting
through the random images he was projecting.
“Don’t Thobians follow some sacred code of
etiquette about using their powers on the unwilling? Wasn’t that the argument
your elders touted before getting banned from the galaxy?"
Thobians?
I don’t know that word, she answered
“Oh, for Gods sake, if you're
actually some slimy, scaly creature, I’ll boot your ass, if you have an ass,
out the cargo hatch so fast your tentacles will spin.”
She moved to block his advance
toward his weapon, which he could now see sitting in clear view on a pile of
dirty clothing just a few feet inside the back room. Bad habits die hard. This whole farce would
end quickly if he could get his hands on his weapon. All he had to do was reach
out and push her aside. Gods only knew
what she would feel like. Despite years of interacting with creatures from
around the Virgo Super Cluster, alien skin still made him squeamish.
Even as he contemplated her
possible texture, his body responded to the image she’d crafted for him. Blood
rushed to heat the back of his neck and other, much lower, areas.
Real or not, she was gorgeous.
Lush, brown hair ended just above the two full breasts of his dreams. He
inhaled and forgot to continue the breathing process as his eyes slid down the
curve of her waist, across her softly rounded stomach, to the dark curls
between her pale thighs.
He could’ve resisted one of the
emaciated women that passed for beautiful on so many planets, but the mixture
of healthy muscles and full curves muddled his thoughts.
Exactly as she’d planned, he
reminded himself harshly and lifted a jacket off the back of a supply container
and threw it at her. “For moon’s sake,
cover up.”
Her arms closed around the clothing
he’d thrown at her. She studied the
material for a moment before slipping an arm into each sleeve.
Wide-eyed, she stood before him and
he began to curse. The unfastened front
of the jacket hinted at the curves he could still see far too clearly in his
mind.
With the layer of cloth between
them, he gave her a push out of the way. “Button yourself up.” He’d hoped to sound indifferent, but his
voice came out as almost a croak.
Turning away from her lent him some mental clarity. The pulser. Focus.
He closed the distance to the pile
of clothing in a few strides. “You may
regret stowing away on this ship. I’m
not entirely sure I can get her running again.
That last storm knocked out her engines.”
Their eyes met and held as he
reattached his weapon belt. She studied him with open curiosity of a child
debating the safety of touching a small, fluffy leporidae.
He settled his pulser against his
thigh and watched her slowly fasten the front of the long jacket. Her delicate fingers took their time with
each button; her eyes never wavering from his.
He gulped in a breath of air. If only she were human...
What
would you do if I were? she asked.
Damn, he'd been schooled on how to
close his mind to telepaths, but she waltzed through his defenses with
ease. Luckily his grandmother wasn't
there to witness how little all those hours of tutelage on mental strengthening
was proving worth. That simple thought
brought renewed anger at his invader. He
hadn’t thought about his grandmother in years.
This woman was good. By opening
old wounds, she could keep him off balance and unable to close his mind to
her.
As he battled for control, a pain
began to throb behind his temples. “You
are the worst telepath I’ve ever met,” he bit out in frustration. “You’re about
as gentle as an Eldrin bull.”
She pulled
back, lessening the pressure, but still answering within his mind. I’m
sorry. I have never focused on anything so small before.
A sarcastic, bio-morphing
telepath. The universe sure did love to
twist the knife. “What’s your name?”
She tilted her head to one side as
if the question puzzled her. Name?
“So, now you’ve lost your memory?”
He let out a disgusted grunt. This woman
was as transparent as they came. He’d
bet his cargo ship and what little his life was presently worth that her
helpless act would drop the instant he had the red crystal in his hands.
My
memories are intact. It is my vocabulary
that is limited.
“You're full of shit.”
Her focus switched from
communication to exploration. Words and
phrases came to his mind as if he were recalling them. His hand tightened instinctively on the
pulser, but he didn’t draw it. Let her look. Better to know your enemy. Her
search would reveal her intention.
Everyone
has a name? Then I will have a
name. I am here. I am Ibi.
“While you’re searching my mind in
a language I no longer speak, maybe you should look up the Besarn translation
for I-don’t-really-care-what-your-name-is-as-long-as-you-get-hell-off-my-ship.”
She went deeper. As she explored,
he stood powerless, reliving each memory with her in the vividness of
reality. Scenes from his childhood on
Trilodon came flooding back to him. He
inhaled deeply. Oh, yes. If he closed his eyes, he could easily have
been back in his grandmother’s kitchen begging the cook for just one before
mealtime. The smell of freshly baked
grillo cookies filed the room.
Who
is Sarras? Ibi asked as she studied a memory of his grandmother
performing a ceremonial blessing of a young child.
He didn't answer. Couldn't answer. A new, rapid-fire burst of memories held him
immobile.
She dragged him briskly through
random scenes from a lifetime he had worked hard to forget until she stumbled
onto the one day he denied even to himself.
As real as the day it had happened, Daniel was back
inside the turbo fighter on his way to Lunas.
His best friend, Kaz, was flanking him in an experimental, military
issued tryonic boost fighter; he claimed he'd borrowed with permission. Trilodon’s Minister of Cultural Affairs
trailed behind in a larger, much less useful cargo ship that had been outfitted
with all the luxuries the minister had deemed necessary for a deep space, three
day trip.
“Kaz, I shouldn’t be flying this
thing. I don’t even know what half the
buttons do.” Daniel’s words echoed in
the small cockpit of the turbo fighter.
Kaz’s booming laughter was the
giant’s first response. “If you see anything dangerous, just press the orange
button. Other than that, the autopilot
will get you there.”
“I didn’t need a fighter craft,
Kaz. We’re cloaked." Sarras would not be happy when she heard his
method of transportation. As future
leader of Trilodon, he was held to a higher standard of morality.
“That’s the problem with
Besarns. You believe your prophecies
more than you trust the reports. As a
member of the Council, Trilodon was already an Agadyrn target. But now that your grandmother has announced
that you are going to stop the Empire with a red crystal, none of your people
are safe. Not one. You think your grandmother's vision means
you’re untouchable? You should have brought a fleet of fighters for protection
today. If there is the slightest chance
that your grandmother could be right, the Agadyrs aren’t going to let you
complete your mission.”
“I’m surprised your father didn’t
send an escort.”
“He won’t move against Sarras and
this is a peaceful mission, remember. Father
says there is too much dissent already in the Council without showing a
weakening of our alliance. When the
Empire does come, we need to be on the same side.”
“How does he feel about you stealing
two fighters for the trip?”
“It doesn’t matter how he
feels. If we succeed, forgiveness will
come easy. If we fail and the war
begins…”
“It won’t come to that, Kaz.”
An aged throat cleared, reminding
Daniel that their conversation was not a private one. The Minister added, "You must have
faith, young ones. Sarras has never been
wrong. So she says, so we believe."
Kaz spoke over the minister's final
sentence. “What exactly is the purpose of that guy?”
Daniel groaned. “He is here to
record the fulfillment of the prophecy.”
The giant’s laughter boomed again.
“I love that your people have such faith in you. Do they know that I used to have to bait your
trillin hook?”
“Shut up, Kaz. We can’t all be twelve feet of death and
demolition.” His grandmother had never understood his friendship with Kaz. The two had met as young children during a
Council session. It hadn’t mattered to
either of them that Kaz’s father commanded the Intergalactic Fleet and
advocated peace through domination while Sarras mediated treaties and kept her
position on the council by speaking for the Cluster’s gods.
No, that day he and Kaz had simply
been two boys, both tired of being kept quiet in a dusty library room by guards
who didn’t understand the lure of the sunlit garden just outside the door. Their escape had taken Tannian strength and
Besarn cunning and had been worth every moment of the punishment that had
followed their garden adventure.
Sarras would not be happy that
Daniel had included Kaz on this mission.
The giant’s
voice interrupted his thoughts. “I have a softer side.”
Daniel
said, “It’s called Ceri and what she sees in you, no one is really sure
of.” He checked the sensors. All clear.
Kaz was worried about nothing.
“What she sees is something bigger than you’ll
ever have.” He moved his much larger
fighter ahead of Daniel’s to accentuate his point.
“You do realize that the Minister
is recording all of this? Is that really
how you want history to remember you -- as a man obsessed with size?”
“Do you think he would? Imagine the sketches he’d need. Should I
flash him, you know, for accuracy’s sake?”
The minister coughed, reminding
them that he was not only recording, but also listening.
“Sarras is
going to kill me, even if we do save everyone,” Daniel said with a groan.
“Relax, you
haven’t broken any moral code. Yet,” Kaz replied.
Daniel saw the moon come up on the
fighter’s short-range sensors.
Ibi had gone too far this time.
Rage filled him. He would not relive the
rest of that mission, no matter how powerful she was. Once had been bad enough.
Pulling back from the scene
dominating his mind, he imagined picking Ibi up like a child, turning her over
his lap and smacking her sweet ass with all of the anger building within
him. He hoped his thoughts were as real
for her as they were for him.
The reverie came to an abrupt
end. Eyes wide, Ibi jumped back a step
and placed a hand protectively behind herself as if she’d felt the reprimand.
You
hurt me, she accused.
“Good,” he replied without a lick
of remorse. “You need to learn to stay the fuck out of people’s minds.”
Her forehead wrinkled in
frustration. I am trying to know you,
Daniel.
“If only that were true and I had
the time to let you.” Even angry with
her, his spanking-inspired erection would not subside. He folded his arms
across his chest and shifted uncomfortably. Gods, she was beautiful. “This whole act is pathetic. Who sent you?”
You
came to me. She moved to sit on one of the storage bins with a sigh. This body tires easily.
“This body? You have others?” Whether it was mind control or bio-morphing
didn't really matter. Either way, none
of this was real. “And use your damn voice.
My head is killing me.”
Her rebuttal was an act of sheer
torture. She ran a hand down one calf,
stealing the breath out of him as he caught a glimpse of the area above. “Is this better?” Her voice was husky and
hesitant as if she were trying it on for the first time. She crossed one leg over the other and smiled
at him.
She knew exactly what she was doing
to him. Damn her. Only, he wasn't going to let her win. He looked away and adjusted his weapon
belt.
“Entertaining as you are, I’ve got
a ship to fix.” He walked back to the control room. She’s not real. None of
this is real.
His gut clenched at the sound of
her bare feet hitting the metal floor as she followed him. “I don’t suppose telepaths know much about
fixing cryon engines?” he asked.
“The engine is what makes this
craft move?” she asked with a serious tone.
He decided to ignore the
question. The woman was taking her role
far beyond credibility. Maybe she’d drop the act if he stopped responding to
it.
The lights on the console flashed
as the engines reengaged. “Betty, I knew you wouldn’t let me down!” He closed the distance to the command chair
at the front of the ship.
“Who is Betty?”
He ran a hand lovingly over the
nameplate on the wall. "Betty’s the ship.”
“Does she speak?”
He sat at the control seat and
smiled as the engines started without hesitation. “I could’ve added that option, but I’m old
fashioned. I like to make my own decisions.”
He reset the coordinates to Byrack
and wondered if Ibi had a weapon hidden somewhere on the ship. The short-range
scanners were back online and clear, but there could be a vessel trailing just
beyond its scope. Eventually, Ibi would
tire of the mind games and change her tactics.
He had to be ready for her.
First things first, though. Betty
was up and running. No time to sit
around and figure out why. He'd run a
full diagnostic in flight.
If the Agadyrn scouts found his
contact at the Farbegn market before he could get there, he’d have lost his
only buyer. Dyrgrimr wasn’t going to free him unless he came back with a
bargaining chip. The crystal alone was too hot for Dyrgrimr to accept as
payment. Daniel had to ensure there was
no way to link him to the theft and sale of it because even his blockage
running slave owner wouldn't want to draw the attention of the Agadryn forces.
And Ibi? He turned his seat to
study her resting figure. She’d curled herself into a scooped chair and lifted
a blanket off the floor to snuggle beneath.
Her eyelashes lay peacefully against her cheeks as she rested.
What the hell was he going to do
with her? He couldn’t leave her on a
planet and risk her warning the outpost. And afterwards, what was to stop her
from telling anyone who was interested that he’d stolen the crystal?
Another man would have killed her
to ensure her silence. But another man
would have killed back when it actually mattered, when millions of lives had
depended on him to press that one orange button.
He turned back to the control panel
and initiated the self-scan mode. ETA,
two hours to Byrack, an old Agadryn outpost. With the Agadyrn forces on the
offense in so many directions, the crystal would have the least guards
necessary to man the outdated station.
No one would expect someone to steal from the very regime that was bent
on complete genocide of every race in the Virgo Super Cluster. It was either a suicide mission or sheer
genius.
Either way, Daniel was done living
under Dyrgrimr’s control.
(End of Chapter One)
I'd love to hear what you think. I've considered publishing it under another pen name because it's so different than my billionaires, but it's also fast paced and Ibi and Daniel were a fun couple. Maybe my current readers would enjoy watching them grow. Ibi's journey is to become human and to help Daniel discover the hero he was always meant to be.
