Starbound (Stealing the Sun Book 5) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Stealing the Sun

  Other Work

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Introduction

  News

  Setting Priorities

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Arms Race

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  News

  The Message

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Starbound

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilog

  End Note

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  STARBOUND

  STEALING THE SUN: BOOK 5

  RON COLLINS

  STARBOUND

  STEALING THE SUN: BOOK 5

  Copyright © 2017 Ron Collins

  All rights reserved

  Cover Image

  © Abidal | Dreamstime.com - Planet Earth with Sunrise in The Space

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All incidents, dialog, and characters are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Skyfox Publishing

  ISBN-10: 1-946176-09-5

  ISBN-13: 978-1-946176-09-7

  STEALING THE SUN

  includes

  STARFLIGHT

  STARBURST

  STARFALL

  STARCLASH

  STARBOUND

  STARBORN

  Other Work by Ron Collins

  The Knight Deception

  A Trevin Knight Thriller

  Saga of the God-Touched Mage

  includes

  Glamour of the God-Touched

  Target of the Orders

  Trail of the Torean

  Gathering of the God-Touched

  Pawn of the Planewalker

  Changing of the Guard

  Lord of the Freeborn

  Lords of Existence

  Picasso’s Cat & Other Stories

  Five Magics

  Six Days in May

  Follow Ron at:

  http://www.typosphere.com

  Twitter: @roncollins13

  For Lisa.

  Thanks!

  The fault is not in our stars, but in ourselves

  William Shakespeare

  INTRODUCTION

  When I was working on my fantasy serial, Saga of the God-Touched Mage, I had envisioned seven books. When I got to the end of book seven, however, I was not happy. It didn’t feel “finished.” But I plodded along in the development and production phase until one day I was taking a walk and realized why the story didn’t feel finished.

  My wife, who is a brilliant copyeditor, and my daughter, who is a brilliant writer, made appropriate fun of my obliviousness, then I proceeded to write the eighth and final volume. When that was finished I knew that yes, the story was done.

  You know where this is going, right?

  Yes, this is a long way of saying that the book you have in your hands was not supposed to exist.

  At least not as a stand-alone book.

  The original plan was for the series to be complete in five volumes. The storyline that fits in right here was going to be the end of Starclash, which, if you’re following along like I know you are, is book four. The fates, however, have a fine sense of humor. The storylines didn’t fit together right if I kept them together. So once again I expanded a series by one book, and, in the end, added what turned out to be about half the material in this book in order to tell the story it wanted to tell.

  When I told Brigid (my daughter) of my need to add a book, she said something wise like “this is getting to be a habit for you, isn’t it?”

  So, yeah.

  Sorry about that.

  This is how my creative process goes, though.

  Some people apparently just sit down, start at the beginning, and write along blissfully until they get to the end. Then they are done. I believe it was Anne Lamott who said we don’t like those people very much, which is not completely true except to the extent that it is true. On the bad days anyway. We are allowed to be just the littlest bit jealous of those people on the bad days, aren’t we?

  I, however, work differently.

  I sit down and I write and I go along path A until path A makes me bored or feels wrong, and then I go down Path B. Unless I plot things out—in which case I follow the plot until it makes me bored or until, more likely, some new shiny idea flutters its eyelashes at me and I’m off running in another direction.

  Or, sometimes I get a cool idea that bubbles into a scene and sits there for three weeks until something else bubbles up later that tells me it’s related to that first idea in ways I would never have guessed.

  Or, I write on something until I can’t stand it and I just toss the whole damned thing away to start something else.

  Yes, I throw away a lot of words. Sometimes thousands at a time. (Aside: I once met a writer who said he kept everything he wrote—every snippet, every idea, every phrase, because he never knew when it might become useful. I believe him, I suppose. But I am not that kind of writer. I am not that organized. If I did that, I would never be able to find these things, anyway.)

  The reason I’m telling you this now is that there was a time when I was afraid to throw away words, or afraid to make changes in midcourse. I figured those words were my investment, and that tossing them was akin to losing that investment. I thought that once I started in a direction, I should plow ahead until I got wherever I was going.

  This isn’t true, of course. In fact, it’s dangerous for a writer like me.

  But it takes a certain level of courage to throw away things that aren’t working, and it takes a sense of humility to go back and change course.

  I think about that a lot right now.

  This entire set of books is really about humanity and how it looks at itself—how it struggles to deal with conflict within itself and how that conflict makes it easy to miss the wonders of life that are happening all around us.

  The characters are (I hope) striving to figure out who they are amid a backdrop of people who exert disproportionate influence on people’s lives merely because they find themselves able to make decisions from behind the cover of a government or a company or…whatever.

  Their world is strange.

  They feel pulled.

  They feel defenseless, or powerful.

  If I’ve done my job well, you’ll think they are all working hard to achieve their own goals, goals they all think of as worthy.

  And yet, sometimes things go all to hell.

  Sound familiar?

  Maybe this is why I’m thinking about restarts.

  Thinking about resets.

  Thinking about throwing away words that aren’t working and going back to a certain waypoint to start all over again.

  Ron Collins

  February 2017

  NEWS

  SOURCE: INFOWAVE — NEWS for the 23rd century

  TRANSMITTED: August 20, 2215, Earth Standard

  HEADLINE: Star Drive Program Termed “Military Priority”

  Less than a week after Universe Three’s surprise attack on Venus Station,
Press Secretary Ophelia Nichols met with reporters to outline steps United Government Interstellar Command will take to gather control of the Star Drive program.

  She announced that two Excelsior class spacecraft originally intended to support missions with tourist and commercial appeal will be diverted to military applications. In addition, Magellan, a ship expected to send scientists to remote star systems in order to better understand the origin of life, among other questions, will be delayed by as much as six standard months.

  “We take this action, fully understanding it will set back our efforts in scientific research,” Nichols said. “But the United Government is always going to err on the side of protecting its people.”

  SOURCE: INFOWAVE — NEWS for the 23rd century

  TRANSMITTED: September 1, 2215, Earth Standard

  HEADLINE: Students Killed in Freak Accident

  Four Solar Academy students were killed when the lunar skimmer they modified failed. Friends of the students said they were secretly working on a micro Star Drive spacecraft to win the Academy’s annual Engineers Day competition. Authorities are not releasing information on the cause of the accident, but sources close to the students have said their covert link to Alpha Centauri A’s flow of fusion material apparently worked, but that the multidimensional deflection shield that Star Drive crafts deploy when racing at speeds greater than light failed during a test run.

  The names of the four victims are being withheld pending notification of their families.

  SETTING PRIORITIES

  CHAPTER 1

  Europa Station: Jovian Science Center

  Local Date: September 3, 2215

  Local Time: 1420

  Watching technical people debate, while sometimes entertaining, was never particularly fun.

  It could have been worse, Torrance Black thought as he wiped his clammy palms down his pants legs while the scientists argued. They could have cancelled Magellan completely.

  Twenty-two years of service had given him plenty of practice dealing with tension that came from powerful people. Admirals, after all, were about the line of stars that ran across their collars, and subordinates followed a captain because, competent or not, a captain on the warpath had free rein to screw up your day. Add to this the fact that Torrance’s current job in the UG’s ambassadorial office—officially, the United Government Science Ambassador to Europa Station—reported into the murky hierarchy of the Office of Coordination (UGOC) and meant his command chain wove an awkward path through the leadership structures of every space station and ground-based province in the Solar System. As such, Torrance was learning the joys of dealing with a freewheeling network of egomaniacs, all of whom understood how to shovel more than their share of discomfort.

  This situation was different, however.

  Today he was sitting in a large conference center of brilliant scientists, ultracompetent mission planners, and several other professionals whose minds ran like they were stuck on faster-than-light. The chatter of the translation bug he had in his ear was filled with conversation, and the sense of anticipation he got from sitting with some of the biggest names known to research academia gave everything a sharp sense of being that was hard to duplicate.

  Supreme President Laney Mubadid’s directive meant UGIS Magellan, the first Excelsior class Star Drive spacecraft that was intended for the scientific exploration of the galaxy, would still roll off the production line in less than a year. The idea that such a ship was being built in the middle of what had every appearance of a long-running war with Universe Three stood testament to Ambassador Alberto Reyes’s political connections. Reyes was Torrance’s mentor, and the main reason he had a front-row ticket to the event. The opportunity to be a part of this kind of science made Torrance feel like a kid discovering Santa Claus was real.

  They were going to the stars for science.

  Actually planning missions that would bring hands-on data about the galaxy they lived in back to the Solar System, which was the conclave’s purpose—develop a priority list for what to do and when to do it.

  The fundamental engineering it took to run a spacecraft’s system commands was embarrassingly basic relative to this kind of problem, and being with this crowd meant Torrance felt clumsy, so far out of his league that he could barely function. So, while the heightened awareness that prickled his neck today matched the pressure that came with a CO’s scrutiny, this anxiety was both deeper and more personal.

  It didn’t help that Torrance had a personal stake in the matter, and that he knew he was fighting for a cause that went against the grain. Life would be so much simpler if the people in charge of things would just do what he wanted them to do.

  However…

  His thumb pressed against the memory crystal he kept in his pocket. Data from Eden, of course. The edge of the block was solid against his skin. Even if he wasn’t actively digging through it anymore, having the cube with him gave him comfort, and he needed every bit of support he could get today. As he pressed against the crystal, Torrance felt desire as strong as anything he had ever felt. He wanted to put a return trip to the Alpha Centauri system onto the slate. He wanted to study the planets around Alpha Centauri A—specifically Eden. It was all he had been able to think about since the day Reyes had informed him of the session.

  Torrance’s call beacon flared.

  “You have been quiet, Ambassador Black.” It was Tia Lark, executive director of the lab’s astrobiology center, and a woman who had been given control of the exploratory council—her first assignment with such prestige. “Do you have recommendations or guidance from the UGOC?”

  Torrance cleared his throat and recited a practiced line.

  “The Office of Coordination understands that our first priority will always be the war effort,” Torrance replied.

  “As is ours,” Lark replied as her role demanded.

  “After gathering requests and feedback from all constituencies, we do, however, consider two items to be of the greatest value to our society’s growth in the future.”

  “Two?”

  The expression on Lark’s face told him she understood that the second was his own agenda, but her voice remained steady and professional. It was not beyond most politicians to bring their own voices to such data, and Torrance had to admit that his role now made him a politician like the rest of them.

  “Yes,” he replied. “Two.”

  “And those would be?”

  “Pi Mensae is known to have three planets in habitable regions, as well as a far-orbit planet of pure ice. The Office of Coordination considers it to be a prime area for early human expansion.”

  “Yes,” Lark replied. “Pi M is a potential target. The star itself is larger than Sol, and appears to be heavy. But as you’ve seen, it scores lower on decision metrics due to uncertainty that the planets in the habitable zones will carry enough water.”

  “It’s the heaviness that has the OC most interested,” Torrance admitted. “And the ice planets local to the system could easily be harvested if necessary.”

  This time, Lark was less successful in masking the distaste on her expression.

  Heavy was a term that meant the star was comprised of more metals than others. Light, of course, meant the opposite—a star with limited metallicity. Heavy systems meant more materials for building would be found among the system’s planets. It also meant more materials for mining, more materials for trade. Or, to be exact, a heavy system meant more money. In Pi Mensae’s case, the UG’s interest in the system was all about iron—every industrialist in the Solar System wanted a piece of the action.

  “The argument for Pi Mensae is already understood,” Lark said. “And those arguments will be debated over the next several days. But I note the UGOC’s interest in the project and will include its recommendation into the record.” She paused for the recorder to make its annotation. “What is the Office of Coordination’s second consideration?”

  Torrance swallowed his anxiety.

&nbs
p; “An element of our office suggests a return to the Alpha Centauri system to study the effects of our use of the source wormhole gate on the ecosystem of planets that lie within.”

  “That’s absurd,” Fredric Parson said.

  Conversation came to an awkward halt.

  Dr. Parson was an old man by most measures, having famously been in the initial groups of people who underwent telomere therapy to extend his years, but he still carried a huge reputation. He had been a leading figure in the development of the earliest wormhole models, and it was well known that Kransky, of the famous Kransky-Watt duo who eventually published the physics of wormhole technology, wouldn’t have gotten as far as he had if Parson hadn’t first solved the riddle of negative mass. In this way, Fredric Parson was, perhaps, the true father of the wormhole.

  “Why is that,” Lark replied.

  Parson rose with an awkward lurch.

  “The wormhole gate will have no effect on the Alpha Centauri system because the Alpha Centauri system is already dead. Far better to spend our resources understanding places that matter.”

  “With all due respect,” Torrance replied. “Even if the Alpha Centauri planets are dead—a fact that we don’t actually know for certain—there is still valuable science to run regarding the impact we are creating by burning up a star. To properly study this, we should plan multiple trips to the system, spaced years apart.”