String Theory_ Fusion (Book 2) - Kirsten Beyer [145]
Bright multicolored lights flashed in rhythmic patterns on the ceiling. Rising, he found the source of the illumination. A large window on the room’s far side exposed a dark sky filled with signs resting atop dozens of large, ornate buildings. The signs flashed and burned in vivid hues, many of which included the words “Casino” and “All You Can Eat Buffet.”
The only furnishings in the dingy room were two beds, the one where he had been and a second, where Harry lay snoring softly. They were separated by a small wooden table, atop which sat a truly ugly lamp in the shape of a smiling circus clown riding a bucking elephant.
A low dresser sat opposite the beds with a strange box adorned with push buttons and a crude handset.
Is that a telephone? he wondered in dismay. It was an ancient communications device, one which had long ago gone the way of the combustion engine and fossil fuels.
Where are we?
The last thing he remembered was the shuttle. He and Harry, doing the first test flight of the tetryon transporter.
Whatever this place was, it had to be a simulation of some kind. It looked and felt like a motel room, one he might have found appealing in his younger, wilder days. But where was the shuttle? And how could Harry sleep at a time like this?
“Harry,” he called, crossing to the ensign and shaking him roughly. “Wake up.”
“Huh… what?” Harry jumped, startled.
“We have a problem,” Tom said.
Shaking the sleep from his eyes, Harry sat up and glanced curiously around the room.
“Where are we?” he asked.
“That’s the problem,” Tom replied.
There was a loud knocking at the door.
Both of them jumped, but were reluctant to answer immediately.
The knock was repeated… louder.
Nodding to Harry, Tom crossed to the door and as casually as he could asked, “Who is it?”
“Room service,” a male voice replied, with the oddest combination of condescension and glee it was possible to project in two words and three syllables.
Tom couldn’t place the voice immediately, but casting a questioning glance at Harry, could see in his alarmed eyes that Harry recognized it.
“Oh, no,” Harry said.
“What?” Tom asked.
“Don’t open it,” Harry replied.
CONTINUED IN
STRING THEORY, BOOK 3:
EVOLUTION
Glossary of Monorhan Terms ati-harat: artisan in service to the rih-hara-tan hara: group or pack harat: male leader of a hara haras: female leader of a hara haran: male or female member of a hara kuntafed: wild Monorhan animal linuh-harat: seer/prophet, advisor to the rih-hara-tan
Protin: Monorha’s primary star rih-hara-tan: leader of an entire Monorhan tribe who can establish the same psionic link with all tribe members that a harat or haras can with his/her hara shalla: head of a secular committee of Monorhans, established by the Interim Emergency Council
Shi-harat: personal bodyguard to the rih-hara-tan
The Blue Eye: Monorha’s second star wantain: snow
Acknowledgments
Who’s to blame?
Well, it’s usually safe to start with the parents. Mine were horribly supportive and encouraging of everything I wanted to do, particularly my artistic endeavors, so I’m sure a lot of this is their fault. My father, Fred, was the first to consciously and thoughtfully critique my work, which always made me feel like he took it seriously. Since his death, everything I’ve done, including retaining his name for professional purposes, is a tribute to his love and fierce spirit. My mother, Patricia, has always been my biggest fan and assures me to this day she’s not the least bit biased.
My older brother introduced me to Star Trek, so he had a hand in it. Since TOS was the only show we could agree on to watch on a regular basis, those nights in front of the TV gave me my earliest appreciation of storytelling on an epic scale. Thanks, Matt.
My younger brother, Paul, teaches me more than I can say about dedication and discipline. Our father lives on in him, which is