PRAISE FOR CHRISTOPHER HINZ
“A fast-paced future thriller that delivers on the promise of its high-concept premise.”
The B&N Sci-Fi & Fantasy Blog
“Appeals to my love of sci-fi, intelligent characters and puns.”
Purple Owl Reviews
“You’ll want to hang in there for the entirety of the ride.”
Strange Alliances
“Thrills and excites in equal measure.”
Morpheus Tales
“Highly engrossing and fascinating.”
Manhattan Book Review
“I’ve come away a fan of the author and the series.”
Looking for a Good Book
“Liege-Killer is a genuine page-turner, beautifully written and exciting from start to finish.”
Locus
“Hinz writes with skill and verve. His world is logical and alive, and he peoples it with credible and compelling characters.”
San Francisco Chronicle
ALSO BY CHRISTOPHER HINZ:
Liege-Killer
The Paratwa
Ash Ock
Binary Storm
Anachronisms
Spartan X
Liege-Killer: The Graphic Novel
Duchamp Versus Einstein (co-written with Etan Ilfeld)
ANGRY ROBOT
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Blue dominion
An Angry Robot paperback original, 2019
Copyright © Christopher Hinz 2019
Cover by Francesca Corsini
Commissioned by Etan Ilfeld
Set in Minion Pro
All rights reserved. Christopher Hinz asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Sales of this book without a front cover may be unauthorized. If this book is coverless, it may have been reported to the publisher as “unsold and destroyed” and neither the author nor the publisher may have received payment for it.
Angry Robot and the Angry Robot icon are registered trademarks of Watkins Media Ltd.
ISBN 978 0 85766 817 2
Ebook ISBN 978 0 85766 818 9
Printed and bound in the United Kingdom by TJ International.
9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
This one is for my cousin, Barry Hawk, who was there at the beginning, offering support to a writer at the outset of the journey.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Let’s jump back a few decades and set the scene: a young writer, a cramped attic workspace, a passion for the exhilarating diversity of science fiction and fantasy. During an era when home computers still struggled through adolescence, the writer flayed the keys of a portable typewriter, blending the logical and the fanciful until he’d forged the novel Anachronisms.
The exotic thriller about an exploratory vessel far from Earth besieged by deadly forces was influenced by luminaries ranging from Frank Herbert and Arthur C. Clarke to Stephen King and A.E. Van Vogt – and with a nod to Ridley Scott’s seminal Alien movie. When the manuscript initially failed to find a publisher, the writer dove into a more ambitious project. The success of Liege-Killer, issued by St. Martin’s Press to critical acclaim, prompted an offer for Anachronisms.
However, this second novel didn’t generate the level of enthusiasm that had greeted Liege-Killer. In retrospect, it probably should have been consigned to a drawer along with other fledgling efforts. Pride – and a most welcome advance – veiled critical perspective.
* * * * *
Long vexed by the novel’s imperfections, I told myself I’d someday rewrite Anachronisms and render it a story I could be proud of. For years, newer projects consumed the workday but finally I made the commitment and plunged ahead with passion and naïveté. The latter quality arose from the misguided belief that a better story was possible by tweaking the text, smoothing over some rough spots and updating the science and technology. It soon became obvious that such minor changes wouldn’t suffice, that nothing less than a total revamp was demanded.
And so Anachronisms was stripped to its foundations and rebuilt from the ground up. Although retaining some iconic tropes – first contact, autocratic AIs – those elements anchor a radically different tale that incorporates a kaleidoscope of fresh ideas.
Yet I desired even more for this novel, a way to bring back that sense of wonder about our amazing cosmos that long ago sprouted in parallel with my passion for the genre. It’s said that the golden age of science fiction is twelve, a time when human beings are primed for physical, emotional and intellectual revelation. It’s also true you can never go back. Still, we’re never entirely cut off from those wonderlands of youth, when we could sprawl across warm summer grass and gaze up at the palpitating stars and snare the dream-spark of imagination from the infinite dark.
In celebration of such feelings, Starship Alchemon is dedicated.
The mad grief of spectral gales
warping a spirit
grave and benign.
Systems betrayed by jagged deceit
and a storm out of time.
Homebound Visions.
The mad grief of spectral gales
bleeding the heart of anachronisms.
THE LYTIC’S LAMENT
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Acknowledgments
About the Author
MAJOR AI SYSTEMS OF THE STARSHIP ALCHEMON
LEVEL 0
SEN – Sentinel
LEVEL 1
SCO – Spatiotemporal Coagulators
PAQ – Primary Quantizer
POP – Primary Operating Power
NEL – Nucleonic Engines
NAV – Navigation
LEVEL 2
EHO – Ecospheric Homeostasis
SOP – Secondary Operating Power
SAQ – Secondary Quantizer
EAC – External Airseal Control
CON – Containment System
MED – Medi
cal System
LEVEL 3
EPS – Elementary Probability Scanning
GEL – General Library
PYG – Primary Genesis Complex
FWP – Food/Waste Processing
GEN – Geonic Stability
HYP – Hydroponics
LEVEL 4
RAP – Robotics and Probes
IBD – Internal Bio Detection
LIS – Lander Interface System
ICO – Internal Communications
SPI – Storage Pod Interface
LEVEL 5
CYB – Cyberlink Network
HOD – Holographic Display
SYG – Secondary Genesis Complex
IAC – Internal Airseal Control
ICS – Internal Corrector System
LEVEL 6
ETI – External Telemetry Interface
NUB – Nutriment Bath
LUM – Luminosity System
TEM – Thermometry Regulation
LSN – Luxury System – Natatorium
LSD – Luxury System – Dreamlounge
CHAPTER 1
The assignor had a hunch the meeting would be unpleasant. He wondered if the young woman entering his office already knew the outcome.
LeaMarsa de Host wore a black skirt and sweater that looked woven from rags, clothing surely lacking even basic hygiene nanos. Whether she was making some sort of anti-Corporeal statement or whether she always dressed like a drug-addled misfit from the Helio Age was not apparent from her file.
The assignor smiled and rose to shake her hand. She ignored the courtesy. He sat and motioned her to the chair across from his desk.
“Welcome to Pannis Corp, LeaMarsa.”
“Thrilled to be here.”
Her words bled sarcasm. No surprise. She registered highly alienated on the Ogden Tripartite Thought Ordination. Most members of the bizarre minority to which she belonged were outliers on the OTTO scale.
“Would you like something to drink?” he asked, motioning to his Starbucks 880, a conglomeration of tubes and spouts. The dispenser was vintage twenty-first-century, a gift from the assignor’s wife for his thirtieth birthday. “Five hundred and one varieties, hot or cold.”
“I’ll have a juggernaut cocktail with Europa cryospice. Hold the cinnamon.”
“I’m sorry, that one’s not in the menu.”
She grimaced with disappointment, which of course was the whole point of requesting such a ridiculously exotic drink.
He unflexed his wafer to max screen size and toggled through her file. An analysis of her test results appeared.
“The Pannis researchers at Jamal Labs were most impressed with your talents. You are indeed a gifted psionic.”
She flopped into the chair and leaned back. An erratic thumping reverberated through the office. It took the assignor a moment to realize she was kicking the underside of his desk with the toe of her flats.
He contained his annoyance. Someday, he hoped to have enough seniority to avoid working with her type. And this young woman in particular…
She was thin, with long dark hair hanging to her shoulders, grossly uncouth. His preadolescent daughter still wore her hair that long, but who beyond the teen years allowed such draping strands, and LeaMarsa de Host was twenty-three. Her skin was as pale as the froth of a milkshake and her eyes hard blue gems, constantly probing. She smelled of natural body scents. He didn’t care for the odor.
“Let’s cut to the chase,” she said. “Do I get a starship?”
“At this time, Pannis Corp feels that such an assignment would not be in the best interests of all involved.”
“What’s the matter? Afraid?”
He’d been trained to ignore such a response. “Pannis has concluded that your particular range of abilities would not be conducive to the self-contained existence of stellar voyaging.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It boils down to a matter of cooperation.”
“Haven’t I cooperated with your tests? I took two months out of my life. I practically lived in those hideous Jamal Labs of yours.”
“And we’re certainly pleased by your sacrifice. But when I’m speaking of cooperation, I’m referring to factors of which you may not even be conscious. Psionic abilities exist primarily in strata beneath the level of daily awareness.”
“Really? Never would have guessed.”
He paved over the snark. “You may wish to behave cooperatively but find your subconscious acting in contrary ways. And trust me, a year or more in a starship is a far cry from what you underwent in our labs.”
“You’re speaking from experience?”
“Actually, no. I’ve never been farther out than Luna.”
“Then you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She stared at him so intently that he worried she was trying to read his mind. The fear was irrational. Still, like most of the population, he was categorized as a psionic receptor, susceptible to psychic forces, albeit mildly.
He forced his attention back to the wafer.
“Pannis is willing to offer you a choice of more than a dozen positions, all with good salary ranges. And the benefits of working for a mega are remarkable.”
“What’s the most exciting position?”
“Exciting? Why, I don’t know.” He tapped the wafer, scanned pages. “Ah yes, here’s one that sounds quite exciting. Archeological assistant, digging up nineteenth century frontier cultures in the American southwest in search of lost caches of gold and silver.”
“Blizzards?”
He looked up from the wafer. “Pardon?”
“Do you have anything with blizzards? I like storms.”
Storms? Dear god, these people were a trial, and more trouble than they were worth. Still, he understood the economics behind the current frenzy among Pannis and the other megas to employ them.
Only last week the latest discovery attributed to one of LeaMarsa’s kind had been announced, a metallic compound found in the swamps of the dwarf planet Buick Skylark. The mega funding that expedition, Koch-Fox, was touting the compound as key ingredient for a new construction material impervious to the effects of sunlight.
He scanned more pages on the wafer. “Yes, here’s a position where storms factor in. The south polar regions, an industrial classification. You would utilize your abilities to locate ultra-deep mineral deposits.”
“While freezing my butt off? No thanks. Anyway, no need to read further. I’ve made my decision.”
“Excellent.”
“I choose a starship.”
The assignor couldn’t hide his disappointment. “Again, you must understand that a starship is not in the best interests of…”
He trailed off as the door slid open. An immaculately dressed man with dark hair and a weightlifter’s build strolled in. He wore a gray business suit with matching headband. A pewter-colored vest rose to his chin and a dwarf lion perched on his shoulder, a male judging by its thick mane. The cat couldn’t have weighed more than two pounds. A genejob that small cost more than the assignor earned in a year.
The man was a high-ranking Pannis official, the InterGlobal Security VP, a rank rarely seen on this floor of the Manhattan office complex. His name was Renfro Zoobondi and he was hardcore, an up-and-comer known and feared throughout the corporation. The fact that Zoobondi was here filled the assignor with dread.
A black mark, he thought bitterly. I’m not handling this situation correctly and my file will soon reflect that.
Zoobondi must have been monitoring their conversation, which suggested that LeaMarsa was even more important than her dazzling psionic ratings indicated. The VP was here to rectify the assignor’s failure.
He won’t come right out and criticize me. That’s not the Pannis way. He’ll say I’ve done a fair job under difficult circumstances and then see to it I’m given a black mark.
Zoobondi sat on the edge of the assignor’s desk and faced LeaMarsa. The diminutive lio
n emitted a tinny growl.
“You are being uncooperative, Mizz de Host.” The VP’s voice was deep and commanding.
She shrugged. He regarded her for a long moment then turned to the assignor.
“Access vessel departures. Look for a minor mission, something leaving within the next few weeks.”
The assignor did as asked while cloaking surprise. Is he actually considering such an unstable individual for a starship?
Zoobondi wagged a finger at LeaMarsa. “Understand me, young lady, you will not be given a major assignment. But Pannis is prepared to gratify.”
The assignor called up the file. He scanned the lengthy list, narrowed down the possibilities.
“The Bolero Grand, two-year science project, galactic archaeology research. Crew of sixty-eight, including two lytics–”
“Perhaps something smaller,” Zoobondi suggested, favoring her with a smile. “We want Mizz de Host to enjoy the special bonding that can develop aboard vessels with a minimal number of shipmates.”
“Yes, of course. How about the Regis, crew of six? Fourteen-month mission to Pepsi One in the HD 40307 system. They’re laying the groundwork for new colonies and request a psionic to help select the best geographic locations on the semi-liquid surface.”
“Perfect. Does that work for you, LeaMarsa?”
“No. Sounds boring.”
“It does, doesn’t it,” Zoobondi said with a smile. “I’d certainly get bored traipsing across a world of bubbling swamps looking for seismic stability.”
The assignor was confused. Something was going on here that he didn’t understand. If Zoobondi wanted her to accept the Regis mission, he would have made it sound more attractive.
“Any other possibilities?” the VP asked.
“Yes. Starship Alchemon, eighteen-month mission to the Lalande 21185 system. Investigation of an anomalous biosignature discovered by an unmanned probe. Crew of eight, including a lytic.”
Zoobondi shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not?” LeaMarsa demanded.
He hesitated, as if working on a rebuttal. The assignor understood.
He wants her to accept this mission. He’s leading her along. The assignor had been with Pannis long enough to recognize applied reverse psychology, which meant that this meeting with LeaMarsa was part of a high-level setup.
It was possible he wouldn’t get a black mark after all.