Reviews:
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"...My personal favorites were Stephen Moss' - Personal Growth, Stephen Palmer's - A Second Infection, Josh Hayes' - The Lost Colony and Jacob Cooper's - Anathema..."
- C. Dixon, Amazon UK reviewer |
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"...There are also four particularly shiny gems in the mix. Josh Hayes’s The Lost Colony, about what’s inside a wormhole, channels plenty of Firefly fun with a dash of Babylon 5 galaxy-spanning importance and a strong finale..."
- Dave Barsby, Amazon UK reviewer |
The Lost Colony by Josh Hayes
CHAPTER ONE
“What do you think?” Ears asked.
Captain James Hale glanced over his shoulder, turning away from the twirling, blue/white mass that was Wormhole 352. The chattermonkey sat on his personalized crash-couch; over-sized, purple ears stood erect, flicking atop his head. The undulating blue and white light cascading into the cockpit gave the animal’s silver and purple fur an odd tint.
“About?”
Ears scoffed, pointing out at the massive distortion of space-time. “About that.”
Hale looked past the dim, orange glow of the holoplot, past the twinkling lights of system traffic, to the large, spinning mass of the wormhole. With the exception of the occasional asteroid, he’d been looking at the same scene for almost three days and was growing weary of the view.
He inspected his now-empty insulmug, then locked it into a slot on the side of his chair. “I think I’m going to need another pot of coffee.”
“That’s two pots already.”
“What, are you my mother now?”
“Hey, fine, you want to kill your kidneys, go right ahead,” the chattermonkey told him. “But don’t say I didn’t tell you so. I still say you should get some sleep, but if you insist on staying up, stims are much better for you.”
Hale grunted. “Can’t stand those things, they have a horrible aftertaste. Like chewing on metal.”
“Maybe, but at least they don’t eat away at your insides.”
“I’d rather you not worry about my insides, Ears.”
The chattermonkey snorted.
Hale stood and pressed a hand into the small of his back. He grunted as several pops echoed in the quiet space. The industrial gray sealant that coated the bulkheads and ductwork around the ceiling was beginning to crack. He reached up and ran a finger along one of the eight-inch conduits.
“Prescott’s going to get an earful the next time we’re at Maekoo. I should’ve known he’d pawn off some cheap sealant. Cheap bastard.”
“I tried to tell you,” Ears said. “So did Kenzie.”
“Holy shit, Ears,” Hale said, reaching up to one of the smaller three-inchers that ran along the ceiling. “Enough already. Don’t you have something to do?"
The chattermonkey shook his head, wide pointy ears flapping. “Actually, no. No, I don’t.”
A shadow played across the interior of the cabin. Hale turned in time to catch a glimpse of a large asteroid just before it disappeared. The orange light of the holodisplays around Hale flickered. While the heavy alloys of the surrounding rocks made the belt an ideal place to hide, it was beginning to play havoc with the Franny’s systems.
“Another close one,” Ears said, echoing Hale’s own thoughts.
“Mmmhmmm,” Hale murmured. “I can’t wait for this run to be over.”
“So,” Ears said, running two tiny hands through his belly fur. “You can level with me, I swear I won’t tell the others.”
Hale arched an eyebrow at the chattermonkey, waiting for him to continue.
“Do you really think we can take on four?”
He’d known what the animal was going to ask, but even so, he felt irritation burn within him. “Oh, come on, not you, too? I just went through this with Lincoln.”
“I know, I know you did, it’s just...”
“It’s not going to be a problem,” Hale blurted out, cutting him off. He bit back the urge to curse, and took a deep breath. He needed sleep.
An alarm chimed. On the holoplot, one of the red STA triangles flashed white, indicating a status change in the vessel. Vector lines appeared in the plot, angling starward, away from the wormhole, toward the shipping lanes.
Ears hopped onto Hale’s shoulder, one soft, furry arm wrapping around his neck. “You think it’s...?”
A secondary alert toned as the usually organized mass of the wormhole’s shipping lanes began to spread apart.
The chattermonkey answered his own question. “Yep.”
Captain James Hale glanced over his shoulder, turning away from the twirling, blue/white mass that was Wormhole 352. The chattermonkey sat on his personalized crash-couch; over-sized, purple ears stood erect, flicking atop his head. The undulating blue and white light cascading into the cockpit gave the animal’s silver and purple fur an odd tint.
“About?”
Ears scoffed, pointing out at the massive distortion of space-time. “About that.”
Hale looked past the dim, orange glow of the holoplot, past the twinkling lights of system traffic, to the large, spinning mass of the wormhole. With the exception of the occasional asteroid, he’d been looking at the same scene for almost three days and was growing weary of the view.
He inspected his now-empty insulmug, then locked it into a slot on the side of his chair. “I think I’m going to need another pot of coffee.”
“That’s two pots already.”
“What, are you my mother now?”
“Hey, fine, you want to kill your kidneys, go right ahead,” the chattermonkey told him. “But don’t say I didn’t tell you so. I still say you should get some sleep, but if you insist on staying up, stims are much better for you.”
Hale grunted. “Can’t stand those things, they have a horrible aftertaste. Like chewing on metal.”
“Maybe, but at least they don’t eat away at your insides.”
“I’d rather you not worry about my insides, Ears.”
The chattermonkey snorted.
Hale stood and pressed a hand into the small of his back. He grunted as several pops echoed in the quiet space. The industrial gray sealant that coated the bulkheads and ductwork around the ceiling was beginning to crack. He reached up and ran a finger along one of the eight-inch conduits.
“Prescott’s going to get an earful the next time we’re at Maekoo. I should’ve known he’d pawn off some cheap sealant. Cheap bastard.”
“I tried to tell you,” Ears said. “So did Kenzie.”
“Holy shit, Ears,” Hale said, reaching up to one of the smaller three-inchers that ran along the ceiling. “Enough already. Don’t you have something to do?"
The chattermonkey shook his head, wide pointy ears flapping. “Actually, no. No, I don’t.”
A shadow played across the interior of the cabin. Hale turned in time to catch a glimpse of a large asteroid just before it disappeared. The orange light of the holodisplays around Hale flickered. While the heavy alloys of the surrounding rocks made the belt an ideal place to hide, it was beginning to play havoc with the Franny’s systems.
“Another close one,” Ears said, echoing Hale’s own thoughts.
“Mmmhmmm,” Hale murmured. “I can’t wait for this run to be over.”
“So,” Ears said, running two tiny hands through his belly fur. “You can level with me, I swear I won’t tell the others.”
Hale arched an eyebrow at the chattermonkey, waiting for him to continue.
“Do you really think we can take on four?”
He’d known what the animal was going to ask, but even so, he felt irritation burn within him. “Oh, come on, not you, too? I just went through this with Lincoln.”
“I know, I know you did, it’s just...”
“It’s not going to be a problem,” Hale blurted out, cutting him off. He bit back the urge to curse, and took a deep breath. He needed sleep.
An alarm chimed. On the holoplot, one of the red STA triangles flashed white, indicating a status change in the vessel. Vector lines appeared in the plot, angling starward, away from the wormhole, toward the shipping lanes.
Ears hopped onto Hale’s shoulder, one soft, furry arm wrapping around his neck. “You think it’s...?”
A secondary alert toned as the usually organized mass of the wormhole’s shipping lanes began to spread apart.
The chattermonkey answered his own question. “Yep.”
Continue reading in Explorations: Through the Wormhole now available on Amazon!
