Wesley Britton's Blog - Posts Tagged "genetic-manipulation"
Breaking and Entering with Enhanced Mutants
Wanting to give some love to A Throne for an Alien, the fourth book of the Beta-Earth Chronicles, I thought I’d share an action scene from the book with you. A rather edited passage as the full scene is too long for a simple blog post.
For a quick set-up: For nearly 20 years, The Collective, an international cabal of ruthless scientists, has been Tribe Renbourn’s most consistent threat. Among their many experiments to battle the Plague-With-No-Name was the creation of enhanced mutants like Sasperia Thorwaif Renbourn who has incredible physical ability and an often overheated mental metabolism.
Another such mutant is the elderly Kiem Holenris, the current head of the Collective. After calling a truce with the Renbourns, Holendris was delighted when she learned the children of Sasperia Renbourn, with their combined mutant DNA merged with Malcolm Renbourn’s Alphan genetics, carried the cure to the ancient curse of Beta-Earth.
Problem: Due to extraordinary circumstances, the files with the cure are only on one electronic pad. And that pad was stolen by agents of Gant Thanq, an evil member of the royal household of Hitilec.
Holenris knows the only way to save the world is to steal the pad back in a night invasion of Thanq’s headquarters. It will take two enhanced mutants to pull it off, even two old adversaries who both rely on the same special medicines to stay alive.
So here’s how Sasperia describes the adventure, with some sections cut for length. I probably should define a number of terms, but that would add to the length I’m trying to control. Hopefully, nothing will be too incomprehensible to throw off your enjoyment of this little battle:
I confidently turned and walked to the bedroom, where I knew Kiem Holenris was working on the disguise that would hide her features from anyone or anything that might see us even in dark night shadows. When I saw her pulling on tight boots over her feet and calves, I first suspected her gifts in deceit were as marvelous as any Shadow-Kin. I saw her body that bore muscles as broad and limber as Alnenia's. In fact, she seemed built like a man used to carrying heavy materials. As she moved, her limbs stretched and pulled as if those of a young woman. When she looked up at me, I full startled. Her face not yet covered with the black mask, she looked younger than myself. Her short hair was dark and shiny. There was nothing of the crone in her beautiful, uncracked face. Kiem Holenris looked as fresh as the cool, white surface of dawn-bowl cream. For a fleeting moment, I thought, Were the two of us to battle, even I might well lose.
Then, the truth struck me. "Oh Sojoa!" I cried, stepping forward, "You've taken an overdose of our formula! Kiem, this cannot —"
She raised both her arms and flexed her fingers to both interrupt me and test her new strength. "I estimate," she told me with calm, strong tones, "I have perhaps six hours as you see me. Then, yes Sasperia, my body will cruelly incinerate." She smiled with deep happiness. "Little kitty, I need but six hours to complete my life's work. As I said, the need for the Collective will soon pass." She rose, and planted her hands firm on widened hips. "I am prepared to be sacrifice. Let us go."
My mind spinning in a flurry of thoughts, I quickly pulled on my own invasion suit of a close fitting tunic, leggings, gloves, and laced boots. I pulled on the rubber headgear that covered my hair and exposed only my ears, eyes, mouth, and nostrils. I pulled on the belt that had deep pockets with the gas-filters, small explosive materials, and the safe-breaking device. As I dressed, I observed Kiem Holenris examining herself in the mirror, smiling as she stretched her arms, jogged in place, and rotated her torso and head. The backs of her legs rippled in the tightness of her muscles. The energy in her entire frame seemed to crackle in her aura. She looked more and more youthful by the moment.
. . . In a private elevator, we two quickly descended to the basement floor and raced behind rows of trans’s and columns. At and end door, we paused as Kiem looked around. Finally, she nodded, and we darted to a metal cover in the street. Opening the hole, we moved in quick time down the pipe to the tunnels of waste below and made our way to another such opening in an alleyway behind a building next to the Lorilian headquarters.
Following Kiem, I crawled up the side of this unfinished eight level structure. It was a new addition to Monte Carlo waiting for merchants to design what would fill the now empty halls. Like many such skeletons in the area, only vats of paint, spackle, and piles of molding laid behind the uncharged Sojoa sheets we climbed past with ease. using the crevices between stones for finger and toe holds, I felt the almost soft smoothness of the yet unweathered masonry. How strange, I thought, for a Ducal of the Alman Mentela to be creeping up buildings like a Shadow-Kin from Rigil. Instead of participating in loud debates behind long tables, I thought of the Collective agents on the streets below creating small diversions and blocking access to this alley. No one saw our ascent. It felt like I was participating in a battle, now being the warrior I'd not been during the war in Alma.
When Holenris and I reached the roof, we crept to the other side and looked down. Yes, there was the outside ledge across the street called First Draw Way. The level we were targeting was six levels above ground. Behind the inviting porch, we knew the offices of Kuf Oy's Eniq were secure from all directions. How could anyone get to that ledge unless, of course, they could leap across a wide four-laned street? Even then, how could magnificent leapers gain access unseen by electronic eyes and ears?
Together, Kiem Holenris and I laid at the roof edge waiting for the answer to the second question. Over and over in my mind, I measured the length of our jump, how I'd land on the cold ledge, how I'd quickly need to move, and what I'd need to do on entering the room behind the closed arches of thick Sojoa-sheets. As we waited for inky dark to fill the skies over the colorful lights beckoning in the signs below us, I wondered how my companion measured time. Inside her, I thought, each moment must be a lifetime, a memory, a new scheme, new discovery, new disappointment.
. . . I also thought of the wizened face of the woman beside me, seemingly the last head of that Collective that had shaped my fate long before the arrival of Malcolm Renbourn on this world. I thought of my bronze skin tanned under the Bilan sun and how my children, my children alone of all my sisters, had borne the fruit yearned for since history began. What had shaped all civilizations was now answered in genetic ladders that were half alien, half genetic mutations. All these streams had come together in one little pad of electronic data hidden in the offices across from where two women waited. And waited.
. . . In a power station located beams from this place, a mysterious overload suddenly cut all power to this part of the city. All of the colorful tribute to Alpha quickly became as black as what my Husband saw each minute. As if sharing one mind, Kiem and I rose, and ran back halfway across the unseen roof of a quiet building. As if four legs of the same body, we ran forward, building momentum. In the same moment, we launched ourselves high over the street, trusting we'd correctly measured the arc to our landing. As I hit a cold floor and slammed into a stone wall, I knew I had done well. A quick glance to my left told me my partner was safe as well. I felt small breaks in my ankle bones and knew for one brief moment my feet, my hands, my breasts were bruised like a normal woman. As ever, I felt the healing energies quickly repair any damage. Equally as quick, we two flattened our backs beside the Sojoa-doors knowing at least one guard would have heard the thuds and come running. One breath. Two breaths. I heard the lock clicking and then sensed a body moving forward. With one motion, I grabbed an extended arm and twisted it, loosening the chroner from one surprised Secops grip. I pulled the body toward me and slammed a mutant fist under an open mouthed jaw. As this body slumped, I saw Kiem pull the small nose filters from her belt and insert them into her nostrils. I did the same as Kiem tossed several thin vials into the room. We heard coughing, choking noises, and then quiet. Then we heard alarms and quickly ran into the room.
In the dark, I knew Kiem was rushing to a V-AV where she could first turn off the alarms, send a signal through the building's networks that would shut down the backup generators, and mechanically lock the doors to the room from inside. With all the confusion happening within the building, and the planned confusion now erupting in the streets below, with luck we had the time I needed. As Kiem did her labors, I sprang to the wall to the right of the main desk and began ripping off wall coverings, not trying to discover just how to covertly get to the safe we knew was imbedded in the wall. My fingers pulled at thick sheets of laminated wood, but I was strong enough to pull and pry and finally snap off the protective layers. There it was, the sophisticated round door with the triangle of three locks. I reached into my belt pocket and pulled out the small machine I'd had no time to master. All I could do, or was expected to do, was place the circular box between the locks and secure it with the suction cups on the back.
I pulled out three smaller boxes with dangling wires which I secured on each of the locks. Each wire I inserted into the proper holes on the center box, and I pressed a button.
While I waited for the device to do its work, I turned and watched Kiem inserting pads into the computers on the desks. It would be long not before every record, every file within this building or connected to it would find itself scrambled, destroyed, or unusable. Then I heard clicks on the wall beside me.
"Now!" I called.
Kiem ran to my side, as I easily pulled the safe door open. I stood back as Kiem's fingers reached inside and explored all she could grasp. Small piles of objects and pads fell to the floor I bothered not to look down at. Finally, I heard her sigh, "Ah!"
I studied her gloved hands as she held the precious, small green square between her fingers. All across it were tiny raised dots I understood not. For one moment, I watched her eyes mist as she clenched the final solution to the mystery of the ages. I wondered if this was the longest moment of her life.
She looked over at me and nearly thrust the pad into my hands. Wordlessly, I tucked it into my now empty belt pocket while she pulled out other pads and handed them to me. I accepted them all. She stood back and I heard her dropping tiny fire-grenades. As pops and green smoke began to sprout by my feet, we rushed back to the ledge and studied the streets outside.
I had to smile. For some unknown reason, at least unknown to the Net officers and the Secops who'd poured out of this very building, panicked people had pulled their trans's into the wrong lanes and blocked traffic from all directions. Women and men stood in the streets yelling and jumping out of their vehicles. It would have taken only two or three planned agents to start this chaos, and then the turmoil would have cascaded on its own. I turned to smile at Kiem but my thoughts quickly turned on themselves. She was looking down like me, but I could tell her body had begun to quake and quiver. Was it illusion or was her tight-suit becoming too big for the body within?
She looked at me and croaked, "My hair turns white again. Blessed be, little kitty." "Then we must hurry," I cried.
She nodded. We ran back into the room, paused, looked at each other, and then ran. And leaped. I pulled my body to its full length to ensure I at least was able to grab the edge of the empty building's roof. I needn't have worried. I landed flat on my face and belly and felt unaccustomed pain. Even such as I have their limits. And my eyes were beginning to water. As we'd begun our leap, I knew something was wrong. From the corner of my eye, I'd noticed Kiem Holenris's jump was aimed not across the way for this roof. She'd leaped almost straight up, as if jumping to the sky. In that moment, I remembered Malcolm's story of Icarus the Fool who'd flown too close to the Alphan sun with wings of feathers and wax.
I quickly rose on my hands and knees and crept to the edge of the roof. Yes, I saw it below, the terrible crush of someone's trans roof. I saw a black form draped from one end of the bent metal. But the dark night hid the details. Sojoa, Sojoa, I prayed, make her end quick and but one flash of pain. Let her not feel the flames of a body now rebelling against chemicals it can withstand not. She had died with double purpose. To end her existence with minimal pain. And to leave her body as a means to draw Lorilian ire at the Collective. And my family not. Blessed be.
Follow Wes Britton here at Goodreads!
Remember, the 99 cent sale of The Blind Alien is still going on! A Throne for an Alien is still only $4.95!
For a quick set-up: For nearly 20 years, The Collective, an international cabal of ruthless scientists, has been Tribe Renbourn’s most consistent threat. Among their many experiments to battle the Plague-With-No-Name was the creation of enhanced mutants like Sasperia Thorwaif Renbourn who has incredible physical ability and an often overheated mental metabolism.
Another such mutant is the elderly Kiem Holenris, the current head of the Collective. After calling a truce with the Renbourns, Holendris was delighted when she learned the children of Sasperia Renbourn, with their combined mutant DNA merged with Malcolm Renbourn’s Alphan genetics, carried the cure to the ancient curse of Beta-Earth.
Problem: Due to extraordinary circumstances, the files with the cure are only on one electronic pad. And that pad was stolen by agents of Gant Thanq, an evil member of the royal household of Hitilec.
Holenris knows the only way to save the world is to steal the pad back in a night invasion of Thanq’s headquarters. It will take two enhanced mutants to pull it off, even two old adversaries who both rely on the same special medicines to stay alive.
So here’s how Sasperia describes the adventure, with some sections cut for length. I probably should define a number of terms, but that would add to the length I’m trying to control. Hopefully, nothing will be too incomprehensible to throw off your enjoyment of this little battle:
I confidently turned and walked to the bedroom, where I knew Kiem Holenris was working on the disguise that would hide her features from anyone or anything that might see us even in dark night shadows. When I saw her pulling on tight boots over her feet and calves, I first suspected her gifts in deceit were as marvelous as any Shadow-Kin. I saw her body that bore muscles as broad and limber as Alnenia's. In fact, she seemed built like a man used to carrying heavy materials. As she moved, her limbs stretched and pulled as if those of a young woman. When she looked up at me, I full startled. Her face not yet covered with the black mask, she looked younger than myself. Her short hair was dark and shiny. There was nothing of the crone in her beautiful, uncracked face. Kiem Holenris looked as fresh as the cool, white surface of dawn-bowl cream. For a fleeting moment, I thought, Were the two of us to battle, even I might well lose.
Then, the truth struck me. "Oh Sojoa!" I cried, stepping forward, "You've taken an overdose of our formula! Kiem, this cannot —"
She raised both her arms and flexed her fingers to both interrupt me and test her new strength. "I estimate," she told me with calm, strong tones, "I have perhaps six hours as you see me. Then, yes Sasperia, my body will cruelly incinerate." She smiled with deep happiness. "Little kitty, I need but six hours to complete my life's work. As I said, the need for the Collective will soon pass." She rose, and planted her hands firm on widened hips. "I am prepared to be sacrifice. Let us go."
My mind spinning in a flurry of thoughts, I quickly pulled on my own invasion suit of a close fitting tunic, leggings, gloves, and laced boots. I pulled on the rubber headgear that covered my hair and exposed only my ears, eyes, mouth, and nostrils. I pulled on the belt that had deep pockets with the gas-filters, small explosive materials, and the safe-breaking device. As I dressed, I observed Kiem Holenris examining herself in the mirror, smiling as she stretched her arms, jogged in place, and rotated her torso and head. The backs of her legs rippled in the tightness of her muscles. The energy in her entire frame seemed to crackle in her aura. She looked more and more youthful by the moment.
. . . In a private elevator, we two quickly descended to the basement floor and raced behind rows of trans’s and columns. At and end door, we paused as Kiem looked around. Finally, she nodded, and we darted to a metal cover in the street. Opening the hole, we moved in quick time down the pipe to the tunnels of waste below and made our way to another such opening in an alleyway behind a building next to the Lorilian headquarters.
Following Kiem, I crawled up the side of this unfinished eight level structure. It was a new addition to Monte Carlo waiting for merchants to design what would fill the now empty halls. Like many such skeletons in the area, only vats of paint, spackle, and piles of molding laid behind the uncharged Sojoa sheets we climbed past with ease. using the crevices between stones for finger and toe holds, I felt the almost soft smoothness of the yet unweathered masonry. How strange, I thought, for a Ducal of the Alman Mentela to be creeping up buildings like a Shadow-Kin from Rigil. Instead of participating in loud debates behind long tables, I thought of the Collective agents on the streets below creating small diversions and blocking access to this alley. No one saw our ascent. It felt like I was participating in a battle, now being the warrior I'd not been during the war in Alma.
When Holenris and I reached the roof, we crept to the other side and looked down. Yes, there was the outside ledge across the street called First Draw Way. The level we were targeting was six levels above ground. Behind the inviting porch, we knew the offices of Kuf Oy's Eniq were secure from all directions. How could anyone get to that ledge unless, of course, they could leap across a wide four-laned street? Even then, how could magnificent leapers gain access unseen by electronic eyes and ears?
Together, Kiem Holenris and I laid at the roof edge waiting for the answer to the second question. Over and over in my mind, I measured the length of our jump, how I'd land on the cold ledge, how I'd quickly need to move, and what I'd need to do on entering the room behind the closed arches of thick Sojoa-sheets. As we waited for inky dark to fill the skies over the colorful lights beckoning in the signs below us, I wondered how my companion measured time. Inside her, I thought, each moment must be a lifetime, a memory, a new scheme, new discovery, new disappointment.
. . . I also thought of the wizened face of the woman beside me, seemingly the last head of that Collective that had shaped my fate long before the arrival of Malcolm Renbourn on this world. I thought of my bronze skin tanned under the Bilan sun and how my children, my children alone of all my sisters, had borne the fruit yearned for since history began. What had shaped all civilizations was now answered in genetic ladders that were half alien, half genetic mutations. All these streams had come together in one little pad of electronic data hidden in the offices across from where two women waited. And waited.
. . . In a power station located beams from this place, a mysterious overload suddenly cut all power to this part of the city. All of the colorful tribute to Alpha quickly became as black as what my Husband saw each minute. As if sharing one mind, Kiem and I rose, and ran back halfway across the unseen roof of a quiet building. As if four legs of the same body, we ran forward, building momentum. In the same moment, we launched ourselves high over the street, trusting we'd correctly measured the arc to our landing. As I hit a cold floor and slammed into a stone wall, I knew I had done well. A quick glance to my left told me my partner was safe as well. I felt small breaks in my ankle bones and knew for one brief moment my feet, my hands, my breasts were bruised like a normal woman. As ever, I felt the healing energies quickly repair any damage. Equally as quick, we two flattened our backs beside the Sojoa-doors knowing at least one guard would have heard the thuds and come running. One breath. Two breaths. I heard the lock clicking and then sensed a body moving forward. With one motion, I grabbed an extended arm and twisted it, loosening the chroner from one surprised Secops grip. I pulled the body toward me and slammed a mutant fist under an open mouthed jaw. As this body slumped, I saw Kiem pull the small nose filters from her belt and insert them into her nostrils. I did the same as Kiem tossed several thin vials into the room. We heard coughing, choking noises, and then quiet. Then we heard alarms and quickly ran into the room.
In the dark, I knew Kiem was rushing to a V-AV where she could first turn off the alarms, send a signal through the building's networks that would shut down the backup generators, and mechanically lock the doors to the room from inside. With all the confusion happening within the building, and the planned confusion now erupting in the streets below, with luck we had the time I needed. As Kiem did her labors, I sprang to the wall to the right of the main desk and began ripping off wall coverings, not trying to discover just how to covertly get to the safe we knew was imbedded in the wall. My fingers pulled at thick sheets of laminated wood, but I was strong enough to pull and pry and finally snap off the protective layers. There it was, the sophisticated round door with the triangle of three locks. I reached into my belt pocket and pulled out the small machine I'd had no time to master. All I could do, or was expected to do, was place the circular box between the locks and secure it with the suction cups on the back.
I pulled out three smaller boxes with dangling wires which I secured on each of the locks. Each wire I inserted into the proper holes on the center box, and I pressed a button.
While I waited for the device to do its work, I turned and watched Kiem inserting pads into the computers on the desks. It would be long not before every record, every file within this building or connected to it would find itself scrambled, destroyed, or unusable. Then I heard clicks on the wall beside me.
"Now!" I called.
Kiem ran to my side, as I easily pulled the safe door open. I stood back as Kiem's fingers reached inside and explored all she could grasp. Small piles of objects and pads fell to the floor I bothered not to look down at. Finally, I heard her sigh, "Ah!"
I studied her gloved hands as she held the precious, small green square between her fingers. All across it were tiny raised dots I understood not. For one moment, I watched her eyes mist as she clenched the final solution to the mystery of the ages. I wondered if this was the longest moment of her life.
She looked over at me and nearly thrust the pad into my hands. Wordlessly, I tucked it into my now empty belt pocket while she pulled out other pads and handed them to me. I accepted them all. She stood back and I heard her dropping tiny fire-grenades. As pops and green smoke began to sprout by my feet, we rushed back to the ledge and studied the streets outside.
I had to smile. For some unknown reason, at least unknown to the Net officers and the Secops who'd poured out of this very building, panicked people had pulled their trans's into the wrong lanes and blocked traffic from all directions. Women and men stood in the streets yelling and jumping out of their vehicles. It would have taken only two or three planned agents to start this chaos, and then the turmoil would have cascaded on its own. I turned to smile at Kiem but my thoughts quickly turned on themselves. She was looking down like me, but I could tell her body had begun to quake and quiver. Was it illusion or was her tight-suit becoming too big for the body within?
She looked at me and croaked, "My hair turns white again. Blessed be, little kitty." "Then we must hurry," I cried.
She nodded. We ran back into the room, paused, looked at each other, and then ran. And leaped. I pulled my body to its full length to ensure I at least was able to grab the edge of the empty building's roof. I needn't have worried. I landed flat on my face and belly and felt unaccustomed pain. Even such as I have their limits. And my eyes were beginning to water. As we'd begun our leap, I knew something was wrong. From the corner of my eye, I'd noticed Kiem Holenris's jump was aimed not across the way for this roof. She'd leaped almost straight up, as if jumping to the sky. In that moment, I remembered Malcolm's story of Icarus the Fool who'd flown too close to the Alphan sun with wings of feathers and wax.
I quickly rose on my hands and knees and crept to the edge of the roof. Yes, I saw it below, the terrible crush of someone's trans roof. I saw a black form draped from one end of the bent metal. But the dark night hid the details. Sojoa, Sojoa, I prayed, make her end quick and but one flash of pain. Let her not feel the flames of a body now rebelling against chemicals it can withstand not. She had died with double purpose. To end her existence with minimal pain. And to leave her body as a means to draw Lorilian ire at the Collective. And my family not. Blessed be.
Follow Wes Britton here at Goodreads!
Remember, the 99 cent sale of The Blind Alien is still going on! A Throne for an Alien is still only $4.95!
Guest Post: Barbara Barnett unleashes The Apothecary’s Curse
Note: I admit being very surprised learning Barbara Barnett was publishing a sci fi novel, The Apothecary's Curse, coming Oct. 11. I knew her as one of the main motors who were at the helm of BlogCritics.org when I used to write for them. I not only reviewed her non-fiction history of TV’s House, M.D., I interviewed her about the book on online radio’s “Dave White Presents.”
While I haven’t read The Apothecary’s Curse yet myself, here’s what I’ve learned about it:
"Anne Rice meets Michael Crichton" in this genre-bending historical fantasy-thriller mixes alchemy and genetics as a doctor and an apothecary try to prevent a pharmaceutical company from exploiting the book that made them immortal centuries ago.
In Victorian London, the fates of physician Simon Bell and apothecary Gaelan Erceldoune entwine when Simon gives his wife an elixir created by Gaelan from an ancient manuscript. Meant to cure her cancer, it kills her. Suicidal, Simon swallows the remainder--only to find he cannot die.
Five years later, hearing rumors of a Bedlam inmate with regenerative powers like his own, Simon is shocked to discover it's Gaelan. The two men conceal their immortality, but the only hope of reversing their condition rests with Gaelan's missing manuscript.
When modern-day pharmaceutical company Transdiff Genomics unearths diaries describing the torture of Bedlam inmates, the company's scientists suspect a link between Gaelan and an unnamed inmate. Gaelan and Genomics geneticist Anne Shawe are powerfully drawn to each other, and her family connection to his manuscript leads to a stunning revelation. Will it bring ruin or redemption?
“Anne Rice meets Michael Crichton in this fever dream of a fantasy. . .will keep readers up well past their bedtime. Highly recommended!” —Jay Bonansinga, New York Times–bestselling author of The Walking Dead: Search and Destroy
“An irresistible blend of fairy folklore, science, and suspense that’s sure to keep you reading late into the night.” —Shanna Swendson, author of Enchanted, Inc.
“A new narrative world lovingly created with an Old World touch. . .” Jane Espenson, Writer/Producer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Battlestar Galactica, Once Upon a Time
“Myth, medicine, and immortality, braided together like the border of an illuminated manuscript.” —Doris Egan, screenwriter, novelist, and writer and co-executive producer of House
Pre-order from Amazon.com
Visit BarbaraBarnett.com
While I haven’t read The Apothecary’s Curse yet myself, here’s what I’ve learned about it:
"Anne Rice meets Michael Crichton" in this genre-bending historical fantasy-thriller mixes alchemy and genetics as a doctor and an apothecary try to prevent a pharmaceutical company from exploiting the book that made them immortal centuries ago.
In Victorian London, the fates of physician Simon Bell and apothecary Gaelan Erceldoune entwine when Simon gives his wife an elixir created by Gaelan from an ancient manuscript. Meant to cure her cancer, it kills her. Suicidal, Simon swallows the remainder--only to find he cannot die.
Five years later, hearing rumors of a Bedlam inmate with regenerative powers like his own, Simon is shocked to discover it's Gaelan. The two men conceal their immortality, but the only hope of reversing their condition rests with Gaelan's missing manuscript.
When modern-day pharmaceutical company Transdiff Genomics unearths diaries describing the torture of Bedlam inmates, the company's scientists suspect a link between Gaelan and an unnamed inmate. Gaelan and Genomics geneticist Anne Shawe are powerfully drawn to each other, and her family connection to his manuscript leads to a stunning revelation. Will it bring ruin or redemption?
“Anne Rice meets Michael Crichton in this fever dream of a fantasy. . .will keep readers up well past their bedtime. Highly recommended!” —Jay Bonansinga, New York Times–bestselling author of The Walking Dead: Search and Destroy
“An irresistible blend of fairy folklore, science, and suspense that’s sure to keep you reading late into the night.” —Shanna Swendson, author of Enchanted, Inc.
“A new narrative world lovingly created with an Old World touch. . .” Jane Espenson, Writer/Producer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Battlestar Galactica, Once Upon a Time
“Myth, medicine, and immortality, braided together like the border of an illuminated manuscript.” —Doris Egan, screenwriter, novelist, and writer and co-executive producer of House
Pre-order from Amazon.com
Visit BarbaraBarnett.com
Book Review: Peter Cole's The Ego Cluster: They Discovered the Genes that Define Us All
The Ego Cluster is a novel that easily falls into the “hard science” fiction category, meaning believable science and not fanciful spaceships or exotic aliens is what the story is all about.
The character-driven plot centers on idealistic scientists Ethan Hendersen who seemingly discovers a gene cluster that controls much of self-interested human decision making. By altering those genes, Hendersen believes he can diminish sociopathic tendencies, change humankind to be more empathetic, logical, gain mental clarity, and be less narrow-minded.
Working for a company dominated by just such a sociopathic bureaucrat, Hendersen teams with fellow scientist Amelia Holt. The two form a romantic and professional relationship as they conduct experiments not sanctioned by the company. Things begin to spiral out of control when they are forced to resign from their employer before they take their experiments to a secretive laboratory where they learn their goals are far from those of their apparent new boss, Stefano Croce.
Battle lines are drawn when their ostensible supervisor, Dr. Doug Ashton, learns how they are all being duped by a dangerous cartel who wants to use any new drugs to destroy politicians wanting to empower the people at the expense of rich corporations. At the same time, governments and those greedy corporations don’t want to address the growing threats from global warming, and environmentalist Professor Caleb Fuller becomes part of the small group of Henderson, Holt, and Ashton, who are the only ones who can save humanity from near genocide.
In terms of action and increasingly fatal encounters across Australia, The Ego Cluster is a slow burner. The first part of the book takes place mostly in or near laboratories where Cole establishes his characters, sets personality conflicts in motion, and deftly demonstrates how all the science is plausible. On one hand, the possibilities of Hendersen’s research show promise and hope for the future. On the other, just what are the consequences of untested drugs in the general populace? Who has the right to determine what direction humanity should take?
In short, The Ego Cluster is both readable and cerebral, a book for those who like engaging characters who get swept up into ever-increasing webs of intrigue and danger. The philosophical points Cole is making are delivered with subtlety, although the villains are very dark indeed and the heroes are obviously admirable from their first appearances. Well, most of them. Cole has many surprises as the circles of deception come into clearer and clearer focus.
You could consider The Ego Cluster as much a mystery as science fiction, and that’s not a bad hybrid. When you finally set the book down, you might find yourself wondering just how feasible it all is. When the chips come down the way they do, what choices would you make if it was you?
This review was first published at BookPleasures.com:
goo.gl/vyNqtf
Order the Ego Cluster at:
https://www.amazon.com/Ego-Cluster-di...
The character-driven plot centers on idealistic scientists Ethan Hendersen who seemingly discovers a gene cluster that controls much of self-interested human decision making. By altering those genes, Hendersen believes he can diminish sociopathic tendencies, change humankind to be more empathetic, logical, gain mental clarity, and be less narrow-minded.
Working for a company dominated by just such a sociopathic bureaucrat, Hendersen teams with fellow scientist Amelia Holt. The two form a romantic and professional relationship as they conduct experiments not sanctioned by the company. Things begin to spiral out of control when they are forced to resign from their employer before they take their experiments to a secretive laboratory where they learn their goals are far from those of their apparent new boss, Stefano Croce.
Battle lines are drawn when their ostensible supervisor, Dr. Doug Ashton, learns how they are all being duped by a dangerous cartel who wants to use any new drugs to destroy politicians wanting to empower the people at the expense of rich corporations. At the same time, governments and those greedy corporations don’t want to address the growing threats from global warming, and environmentalist Professor Caleb Fuller becomes part of the small group of Henderson, Holt, and Ashton, who are the only ones who can save humanity from near genocide.
In terms of action and increasingly fatal encounters across Australia, The Ego Cluster is a slow burner. The first part of the book takes place mostly in or near laboratories where Cole establishes his characters, sets personality conflicts in motion, and deftly demonstrates how all the science is plausible. On one hand, the possibilities of Hendersen’s research show promise and hope for the future. On the other, just what are the consequences of untested drugs in the general populace? Who has the right to determine what direction humanity should take?
In short, The Ego Cluster is both readable and cerebral, a book for those who like engaging characters who get swept up into ever-increasing webs of intrigue and danger. The philosophical points Cole is making are delivered with subtlety, although the villains are very dark indeed and the heroes are obviously admirable from their first appearances. Well, most of them. Cole has many surprises as the circles of deception come into clearer and clearer focus.
You could consider The Ego Cluster as much a mystery as science fiction, and that’s not a bad hybrid. When you finally set the book down, you might find yourself wondering just how feasible it all is. When the chips come down the way they do, what choices would you make if it was you?
This review was first published at BookPleasures.com:
goo.gl/vyNqtf
Order the Ego Cluster at:
https://www.amazon.com/Ego-Cluster-di...
Book Review: Janus Quadrifrons by Spark D' Ark
Janus Quadrifrons
Spark D' Ark
Publication Date: September 22, 2016
Sold by: Amazon Digital Services LLC
“Forget what you know about a storyline that has a starting point, something interesting after that and finally an epilogue.
[This book is] a mind game, an adventure to perception . . . Once you are certain of something, I will take that “something” away.
Remember. It’s a game and you are playing along with the characters.”
The opening to the “Prologue” to Janus Quadrifrons is a good set-up for the kaleidoscopic roller-coaster ride to follow. You might suspect, after reading that opening, trying to draft a synopsis of the trip to come would be near impossible and also rather unfair to new readers.
It doesn’t take many pages to realize that “Janus,” the narrator of the yarn, is never sure what is reality and what isn’t. Does he or she really have the power to get into other people’s minds and look through their eyes? Is she insane, her, or his, mental faculties distorted by brain cancer? Or is he the subject of mind-altering experiments using drugs and strange devices? Are the people Janus interacts with really there or pieces of his/her imagination, are they living or dead? Are their identities being manipulated in some unknown way? Is time being bent or reversed with blackouts robbing Janus of his memories? What is truth, is there such a thing, and what is illusion? Who are the hunters, who are the killers, and who is killed and who is hunted and why? How many times can one person die and return?
Author Spark D' Ark is all about posing questions with questionable answers and posing riddles with illusory solutions page after page. As her surreal stew comes to a boil, Spark stirs in the Prometheus virus which connects with mega-genes that open the memories of ancestors in the genetic code and clones pregnant with clones and the protagonists apparently trapped in time loops that return them to events decades ago when everything began. Or is it all a recurring dream?
The author dedicates her book to readers who don’t finish the book, apparently anticipating a readership who opt not to keep up with the game. I can sympathize with such an audience. Janus Quadrifrons isn’t going to be everyone’s cup of tea as it isn’t designed to meet most literary expectations, just as Spark signaled in her “Prologue.” On the other hand, other readers are likely to enjoy the psychological journey, especially those accustomed to the tricks of post-modern literature. In particular, no one should feel cheated by the “variant” endings in the payoffs in the final two chapters. Of course, there’s no shortage of sci fi yarns featuring characters dealing with shifting identities or manipulated consciousnesses.
For the record, Janus Quadrifrons seems crafted to be a stand-alone story, not the launch of a new series. As it happens, English is not the author’s first language—Greek is. Some of the character names have Greek roots and are used as archetypes for their symbolism. However, there are very few indications this book was written by someone using English as a second language. It’s not a long book, so come on in, bring no preconceptions with you, and go where no one has traveled before.
Order Janus Quadrifrons at:
https://www.amazon.com/Janus-Quadrifr...
This review was first published at BookPleasures.com at:
goo.gl/M4iP2R
Spark D' Ark
Publication Date: September 22, 2016
Sold by: Amazon Digital Services LLC
“Forget what you know about a storyline that has a starting point, something interesting after that and finally an epilogue.
[This book is] a mind game, an adventure to perception . . . Once you are certain of something, I will take that “something” away.
Remember. It’s a game and you are playing along with the characters.”
The opening to the “Prologue” to Janus Quadrifrons is a good set-up for the kaleidoscopic roller-coaster ride to follow. You might suspect, after reading that opening, trying to draft a synopsis of the trip to come would be near impossible and also rather unfair to new readers.
It doesn’t take many pages to realize that “Janus,” the narrator of the yarn, is never sure what is reality and what isn’t. Does he or she really have the power to get into other people’s minds and look through their eyes? Is she insane, her, or his, mental faculties distorted by brain cancer? Or is he the subject of mind-altering experiments using drugs and strange devices? Are the people Janus interacts with really there or pieces of his/her imagination, are they living or dead? Are their identities being manipulated in some unknown way? Is time being bent or reversed with blackouts robbing Janus of his memories? What is truth, is there such a thing, and what is illusion? Who are the hunters, who are the killers, and who is killed and who is hunted and why? How many times can one person die and return?
Author Spark D' Ark is all about posing questions with questionable answers and posing riddles with illusory solutions page after page. As her surreal stew comes to a boil, Spark stirs in the Prometheus virus which connects with mega-genes that open the memories of ancestors in the genetic code and clones pregnant with clones and the protagonists apparently trapped in time loops that return them to events decades ago when everything began. Or is it all a recurring dream?
The author dedicates her book to readers who don’t finish the book, apparently anticipating a readership who opt not to keep up with the game. I can sympathize with such an audience. Janus Quadrifrons isn’t going to be everyone’s cup of tea as it isn’t designed to meet most literary expectations, just as Spark signaled in her “Prologue.” On the other hand, other readers are likely to enjoy the psychological journey, especially those accustomed to the tricks of post-modern literature. In particular, no one should feel cheated by the “variant” endings in the payoffs in the final two chapters. Of course, there’s no shortage of sci fi yarns featuring characters dealing with shifting identities or manipulated consciousnesses.
For the record, Janus Quadrifrons seems crafted to be a stand-alone story, not the launch of a new series. As it happens, English is not the author’s first language—Greek is. Some of the character names have Greek roots and are used as archetypes for their symbolism. However, there are very few indications this book was written by someone using English as a second language. It’s not a long book, so come on in, bring no preconceptions with you, and go where no one has traveled before.
Order Janus Quadrifrons at:
https://www.amazon.com/Janus-Quadrifr...
This review was first published at BookPleasures.com at:
goo.gl/M4iP2R
Book Review: The Gemini Effect by Chuck Grossart
The Gemini Effect
Chuck Grossart
•
• https://www.amazon.com/Gemini-Effect-...
The opening pages of The Gemini Effect signal that this is a story full of horror, the sort of horror you will find when relentless mutant monsters are set loose on a mostly defenseless American mid-West. The hordes of first vampire/zombie rats, then affected humans, and finally killer birds create a terror that simply never relents in an extremely fast-paced thriller.
Chuck Grossart is very descriptive of the rather implausible events (how could thousands of killer creatures be created in such a short time period?), of the military equipment and personnel, and of the scientists seeking a solution to the expanding apocalypse.
He’s less successful when he interjects a second plotline, of third-generation Soviet sleeper agents with the power to immobilize the president of the United States. It’s as if two books were squeezed together which works on some levels, but the White House storyline is even more implausible than the hordes of seemingly unstoppable monsters transforming and replicating underground.
The author deserves major kudos for his storytelling style which makes this novel a page-turner that engages the reader for much of the novel. I admit, I never understood why the creature’s quickly established weakness of being unable to endure light was never developed into useable weapons and the nation’s leaders resort to other devastating options to kill the mutants. The final chapters are even more difficult to accept as the entire globe erupts into various wars completely unrelated to the American scourge. It would be unfair to describe the ending other than to say much of what happens doesn’t make much sense, considering the biological agent that accidently started it all shouldn’t have the clout to do what it does.
Still, I recommend The Gemini Effect for readers who like their reads fast and furious with little in the way of character development. For the record, the book is apparently a substantial revision of an earlier edition titled The Mengele Effect, a title that actually makes more logical sense. While the book seems to be a stand-alone effort, there are threads left dangling for at least one possible sequel.
This review was first published at BookPleasures.com at:
http://www.bookpleasures.com/websitep...
Chuck Grossart
•
• https://www.amazon.com/Gemini-Effect-...
The opening pages of The Gemini Effect signal that this is a story full of horror, the sort of horror you will find when relentless mutant monsters are set loose on a mostly defenseless American mid-West. The hordes of first vampire/zombie rats, then affected humans, and finally killer birds create a terror that simply never relents in an extremely fast-paced thriller.
Chuck Grossart is very descriptive of the rather implausible events (how could thousands of killer creatures be created in such a short time period?), of the military equipment and personnel, and of the scientists seeking a solution to the expanding apocalypse.
He’s less successful when he interjects a second plotline, of third-generation Soviet sleeper agents with the power to immobilize the president of the United States. It’s as if two books were squeezed together which works on some levels, but the White House storyline is even more implausible than the hordes of seemingly unstoppable monsters transforming and replicating underground.
The author deserves major kudos for his storytelling style which makes this novel a page-turner that engages the reader for much of the novel. I admit, I never understood why the creature’s quickly established weakness of being unable to endure light was never developed into useable weapons and the nation’s leaders resort to other devastating options to kill the mutants. The final chapters are even more difficult to accept as the entire globe erupts into various wars completely unrelated to the American scourge. It would be unfair to describe the ending other than to say much of what happens doesn’t make much sense, considering the biological agent that accidently started it all shouldn’t have the clout to do what it does.
Still, I recommend The Gemini Effect for readers who like their reads fast and furious with little in the way of character development. For the record, the book is apparently a substantial revision of an earlier edition titled The Mengele Effect, a title that actually makes more logical sense. While the book seems to be a stand-alone effort, there are threads left dangling for at least one possible sequel.
This review was first published at BookPleasures.com at:
http://www.bookpleasures.com/websitep...
Rob Williams and a Sci-Fi Crossroads
“Rob Williams’ Sins of Variance poses one of science fiction’s crossroads in a difficult future of dark choices for the human race.”
Sins of Variance takes place 500 years into the future in Gloucestershire County, United Kingdom (near Wales). Mankind has changed through genetic engineering, almost to the point of being unrecognizable from what we know today. Advanced genetics has brought about a complete “optimal” set of genomes preferred by the society. Though variation has been bred out of most humans, there are rare individuals with unique inner characteristics who have been deemed unacceptable by the society. They struggle because of these personal differences, and some find their world is not really what they have been led to believe.
The author would rate the book on the high side of PG-13 due to violence.
Author’s Website
https://www.robwilliamsnovels.com/
Paperback:
https://www.amazon.com/Sins-Variance-...
Kindle:
https://www.amazon.com/Sins-Variance-...
Published by
The Ardent Writer Press
http://www.ardentwriterpress.com/
Author Page on Ardent Writer Press
https://ardentwriterpress.com/alabama...
Sins of Variance takes place 500 years into the future in Gloucestershire County, United Kingdom (near Wales). Mankind has changed through genetic engineering, almost to the point of being unrecognizable from what we know today. Advanced genetics has brought about a complete “optimal” set of genomes preferred by the society. Though variation has been bred out of most humans, there are rare individuals with unique inner characteristics who have been deemed unacceptable by the society. They struggle because of these personal differences, and some find their world is not really what they have been led to believe.
The author would rate the book on the high side of PG-13 due to violence.
Author’s Website
https://www.robwilliamsnovels.com/
Paperback:
https://www.amazon.com/Sins-Variance-...
Kindle:
https://www.amazon.com/Sins-Variance-...
Published by
The Ardent Writer Press
http://www.ardentwriterpress.com/
Author Page on Ardent Writer Press
https://ardentwriterpress.com/alabama...
Wesley Britton's Blog
This just came in. My favorite two sentences of all time!
“The Blind Alien is a story with a highly original concept, fascinating characters, and not-too-subtle but truthful allegories. Don’t let the ...more
“The Blind Alien is a story with a highly original concept, fascinating characters, and not-too-subtle but truthful allegories. Don’t let the ...more
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