Tyre - A Space Opera Colonization Adventure (Aeon 14: Building New Canaan Book 2) Read online

  TYRE

  BUILDING NEW CANAAN – BOOK 2

  BY J.J. GREEN & M. D. COOPER

  Just in Time (JIT) & Beta Readers

  Jim Dean

  Gene Bryan

  Timothy van Oosterwyk Bruyn

  Marti Panikkar

  Steven Blevins

  Scott Reid

  Copyright © 2018 J.J. Green & M. D. Cooper

  Aeon 14 is Copyright © 2018 M. D. Cooper

  Version 1.0.0

  Cover Art by Andrew Dobell

  Editing by Jen McDonnell, Bird’s Eye Books

  Aeon 14 & M. D. Cooper are registered trademarks of Michael Cooper

  All rights reserved

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  FOREWORD

  WHAT HAS COME BEFORE…

  MAPS

  A FLIGHT AT THE OPERA

  SUPPER ON THE SAND

  FALLOUT

  REPORTING IN

  ATHENS BOUND

  REVISITING

  A JOB IN PARADISE

  AN END

  A NEW HAND

  HEAT

  GETTING COMFORTABLE

  SOARING

  DISCERNMENT

  A TRIP

  WHISTLING WINDS

  ARRIVALS

  SWELTER

  OVERWATCH

  CRYSTALS

  SPELUNKING

  TRANSUDATION

  FACE TO FACE

  LOST

  DESPERATION

  RECOVERY

  AFTER ACTION

  PICNIC ON THE SAND

  AFTERWORD

  THE BOOKS OF AEON 14

  OTHER BOOKS BY J.J. GREEN

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  FOREWORD

  If there’s one thing I love doing in Aeon 14, it’s coming back to New Canaan.

  It’s a real joy to write stories in this special period in the colony’s history. Though the colonists knew there were trials ahead, they were determined to make the most of their new worlds and build a lasting future for themselves.

  Even so, there are always those who want to spoil everyone else’s fun. People who are only happy if they can make everyone else miserable…or do things their way…or both.

  We find several such types in Tyre; people who have been given much, but don’t seem interested in using their gifts for good.

  Luckily, given what the people of New Canaan have coming their way, these events help them grow and prepare for what is coming next.

  As always, it’s a true pleasure to write stories with Jenny. Her feel for the characters and what makes them unique is enlightening and makes them a lot of fun to get to know.

  We’re proud to bring you this second installment in the Building New Canaan books, and are gleefully scheming about what is to come in the next two!

  M. D. Cooper

  Danvers, 2018

  WHAT HAS COME BEFORE…

  The books of the Building New Canaan series follow the events surrounding the construction of the colony within the New Canaan System.

  All of these books take place during the timespan encompassed by New Canaan in The Orion War series. Despite the intermingling of events and storylines, Jenny and I strove to write Carthage, and now Tyre, in such a fashion that you can begin your journey in Aeon 14 right here.

  However, if you would like to later read the backstory of how the Intrepid’s colony mission ended up in the New Canaan System, the books you should read are: Outsystem, A Path in the Darkness, Building Victoria, Destiny Lost, and New Canaan.

  Barring that, here is a brief synopsis of how the colonists came to settle New Canaan.

  The GSS Intrepid—one of the largest colony ships ever built—set out from the Sol System in 4124, destined for ‘New Eden’ (82 Eridani), where the FGT (Future Generation Terraformers) had prepared two worlds for them.

  The Intrepid’s journey was not an easy one. Along the way, the ship suffered damage at the hands of both anti-colonial extremists, and a sinister individual named Myrrdan who wished to steal the ship’s most precious cargo: functional, reliable picotech.

  Shifted off course, the Intrepid stopped at the uninhabited system of Kapteyn’s Star, where they encountered a ship of refugees from the Sirius System.

  The people of Sirius were subject to a strict caste system that is broken into two main groups. The Lumins are the upper class, and the Noctus are the lower. For all intents and purposes, the Noctus are little more than slaves, and this particular group, led by a man named Markus, fled Sirius hoping to make a new home in the Kapteyn System.

  In an unexpected turn of events, the Noctus’s Lumin overlords chased after them, braving the fifty-year journey just to prove a point.

  Tanis Richards, Lieutenant Governor of the Intrepid’s colony mission, wasn’t going to let the Noctus’s cry for help go unanswered, and she saved the refugees and defeated their oppressors.

  Over the next seventy years, the Intrepid’s colonists helped the Noctus terraform both a world and a moon in the Kapteyn System, establishing for them a prosperous colony, while also repairing the damage done to their own colony ship by the saboteurs and Myrrdan—who they believed to have been defeated while at Kapteyn’s Star.

  During this time, the two groups intermingled, and some colonists remained behind when the Intrepid finally left, while many of the Noctus joined the great ship’s colony mission.

  And then things went awry.

  As the colony ship journeyed across the interstellar darkness, the Intrepid was caught in a gravitational lens created by a supermassive stream of dark matter.

  When the ship finally managed to re-enter normal space-time, they found themselves over five thousand years in the future. In the intervening time, FTL (faster than light travel) had been discovered, but many other advanced technologies had been lost. The Intrepid and what it carried had become even more valuable.

  Through a daring series of events, Tanis Richards managed to secure the friendship of Sera Tomlinson, scion of the Future Generation Terraformers (a group now known as the Transcend).

  Sera aided the Intrepid’s colonists in securing a colony system in exchange for much of their advanced technology, but not their picotech. Tanis also secured for the colonists several new technologies—namely, anti-gravity systems and FTL.

  Upon arrival in the New Canaan System, Tanis knew that the Transcend would watch the colonists build, and wait for the right time to demand they surrender their picotech, despite her friendship with Sera.

  And if not them, then one of the other empires who hungered after the treasures the Intrepid carried.

  Knowing this, Tanis—now governor—reached out to one of her most trusted engineers, Erin, and tapped her to begin the construction of hidden shipyards, nestled deep within the moons of New Canaan’s outer planets.

  Erin has been hard at work excavating these moons and building the hidden shipyards, as well as aiding in keeping other construction projects on schedule—such as the Carthaginian infrastructure, which she worked on in the prior book.

  During the events of the book Carthage, she also had to utilize the advanced picotech without it falling into the hands of malcontents who wished to steal it. Additionally, Erin met a woman named Isa and a man named Martin—ultimately falling for both.

  Expecting that her dual attraction meant she could have neither, Erin was prepared to call off both relationships, only to find that they had no issue with a group dynamic.

  And that is where we find Erin now: getting some much-deserved time of
f with her new family.

  MAPS

  Get full-size maps at www.aeon14.com/maps.

  A FLIGHT AT THE OPERA

  STELLAR DATE: 03.07.8937 (Adjusted Years)

  LOCATION: Ore Handler K8-22, Cyprus Asteroid Group

  REGION: Macedon, New Canaan System

  Jacob Cimorelli’s thick fingers adjusted the delicate controls of his ore handler, as a soprano’s aria rang through his headset.

  The music helped the massive man to concentrate. Maneuvering a two-hundred-thousand-ton chunk of ore through space wasn’t easy, and the uraninite had to be kept separate from the rest of the extracted minerals in the mining operation on the Irridia asteroid. If he lost control of the ore before it was safely stowed in the Euphemia’s ore nets, Jacob would never hear the end of it from his supervisor.

  Max was the meanest bastard Jacob had ever worked for. Constantly finding fault, never satisfied, always skirting the line between overseeing and bullying. Jacob couldn’t wait for the day the man finally went too far and was demoted—or better still, transferred to another project, preferably on the system’s outer rim where operations lasted months with no time off. Then he might learn some manners and respect.

  That far out, away from the gaze of the central government at Carthage, ore handler pilots had their own ways of getting their pound of flesh out of a vindictive boss.

  Jacob took a calming breath and dismissed the irritating supervisor from his thoughts. Allowing the music to soothe his ruffled mind, he focused his attention on the readouts from his ship’s four pincers as they gripped the immense chunk of rock.

  Given that the load consisted of uranium-238 ore—mixed with the various other radioactive isotopes the fissile material decayed into—Jacob had been given one of the older ships with which to move it. To his mind, one of the newer haulers with the graviton emitting manipulator arms would be better, since they wouldn’t actually have to touch the ore and get radioactive dust everywhere.

  But Max had made the call, so the older ships were the ones moving the uraninite. As a result, the front of Jacob’s ship was half-covered in enough radium that it glowed faintly.

  He was safe enough in the pilot’s pod, but the beta and gamma rays wreaked havoc on his sensors, and he had to pay careful attention to what he was doing and what was going on around the ship.

  Managing the rock was tricky as well. It was over fifty meters across, and highly irregular. Normally they’d use nets to help secure loads this large, and then the pincer arms would hold the net, but no one wanted to deal with repacking radioactive nets, and so they did their best with the pincers alone.

  He double-checked his readings, making sure that the load was stable under thrust. Too much pressure, and the rock would split, perhaps into several pieces, each on their own trajectory. Too little force, and the rock would slip away.

  Should that happen, it would create a navigational hazard, and Jacob would have to fly the sluggish ore handler to chase after them—something that could take hours.

  The data on his console assured him that the rock was secure. If he carried on slowly and steadily as he was, then he shouldn’t have any problems.

  Under his breath, Jacob began to hum along to the opera, which was one of his old favorites: a story of misplaced loyalty and unrequited love. As he listened, the singer’s voice rose to an almost inhuman pitch, while remaining delicate and light as a butterfly’s wing. A tear welled up in Jacob’s eye, burst over his lashes, and ran down his cheek before dripping from his muscled jaw.

  He found himself wishing he instead reported directly to Pippa and Anwen, the twins who were the lead engineers on the project.

  From the limited personal interactions he’d had with them, they seemed a bit fresh and inexperienced to be put in charge of the operation, but he didn’t think that mattered too much.

  Mining the Cyprus asteroids was a straightforward job…. Or at least, it had been until they’d gotten down to the core of one of the thousand-kilometer rocks—affectionately named Irradia—and hit the uraninite there.

  Other than letting Max make the call on using the older haulers, the twins had handled that development well enough, adjusting the schedule to gather a full load of the fissile ore for processing at the Roma enrichment facility.

  Max, however, had chafed at the delays the specialized load had created, and took it out on whoever was close…or handy on comms.

  Jacob’s sensors picked up another ship nearby—later than they should have, due to the radiation—and he adjusted his vector, still gritting his teeth as he brooded over his less than pleasant supervisor, fighting the urge to spit in disgust, which wouldn’t be wise while under thrust.

  Suddenly, an alarm flashed on his screen, and Jacob scanned the readouts. His maneuver had shifted his load, and one of the pincers had slipped. It was slowly dragging across the surface, and if it went much further, the rock would slip free.

  He eased off the thrust while slowly adding pressure to the pincer, careful to avoid any sudden jolts that would put undue strain on the other arms.

  The pincer kept sliding, and he knew that he’d either need to kill all thrust and re-grapple the chunk of ore, or use a net. If it were entirely up to him, he’d stop and get a new hold on the uraninite, but that would send Max up his ass in a heartbeat.

  Without further consideration, he triggered a load-securing net to deploy from the sliding pincer. A web of carbon cables launched out from the pincer arm, pitons hitting the ore and driving into it, finally arresting the movement and holding the load secure.

  The load safe, Jacob relaxed, noting that he was over halfway to the Euphemia now, and one of the most beautiful and tragic parts of the opera was coming up. The forsaken lover would soon finally comprehend what every other character and the audience knew: that she had been cruelly, heartlessly abandoned, and her three years of waiting had been entirely in vain.

  Suddenly the music cut out as a message came in.

  Max’s complaint scythed through Jacob’s calm. he replied, his words passing mentally through his newly gritted teeth.

 

 

 

  Max was gone, and the opera continued from where it had been interrupted.

  Jacob cursed aloud, his deep voice rumbling around the cockpit. He directed Max to take part in several unnatural and impossible acts with himself and various relations.

  What does that dumbass expect me to do? he wondered. Fly from Irridia to the Euphemia at full thrust?

  He ruminated that it wasn’t his fault he’d been assigned the final haul of the rotation. The job would take as long as it took; he would be stupid to rush it. All it would take would be a single mistake and everyone would be on their way back to Carthage a lot later, or maybe not at all.

  Jacob turned up the music and double-checked his ETA. If he maintained his current velocity for five more minutes, and then began braking to match v, he would reach the ship in twenty-eight minutes. It was plenty fast enough. Max could go eat basalt.

  Rolling his powerful shoulders, Jacob considered whether or not he cared to hear from Max again, cursed aloud, and switched off all but emergency comms.

  He wouldn’t have to listen to Max again until he was face to face with him aboard the Euphemia. The boor was going to chew him out either way, so there was no point in getting it on comms as well.

  If the asshole threatened to fire him in person, it would get back to the twins, and he was certain they’d have his back. He was a good worker, and they were too sma
rt to let him go. If push came to shove, he was certain that Pippa and Anwen would overrule Max.

  Jacob smiled at the thought of those two laying into his boss. He kinda wanted Max to try to get rid of him; he would love to see the look on the man’s face when they shut him down.

  At the prescribed time, he killed the ship’s thrust and carefully repositioned the engines—which were held on long arms—to begin the braking burn. That was one thing he liked about this model of ship: no need to rotate the entire cargo load just to slow down…. And should the load slip, there was a much lower risk of it hitting the ship itself.

  Once the burn had begun, and he was confident the ore wasn’t going to shift, Jacob settled in for the last twenty minutes of his journey, thinking about the shore leave he’d take on Carthage. Max’s allusion to his girlfriend’s anatomy had been rude, but it nevertheless sparked some pleasant memories and anticipation of renewing his acquaintance.

  The opera was about to reach its climax. The weight of the heroine’s terrible betrayal was crushing all hope of happiness in her, and she was resolving to take her only remaining course of action. Jacob listened intently, his stubby fingertips deft as he made minute adjustments to his controls.

  At the edge of the holodisplay, the silver orbs of the ore handlers on the next rotation edged slowly closer on their trip to the asteroid he’d just left, their articulated arms trailing behind. Beyond the cluster of ships, a thick rod hung at a thirty-degree angle to his horizon, a motionless reference frame in the black: the Euphemia.

  The soprano neared the final lines of the libretto, mourning the loss of her love, lamenting his unfaithfulness, and weeping for their innocent child. She was facing her inevitable end. Jacob’s lip trembled. This part always got to him, yet he loved it.

  Many other pilots aspired to attain Max’s position, sitting in the air-conditioned comfort and roomy interior of vessels like the Euphemia, but not Jacob. He was more than happy alone in his cabin. Just him, the rocks, and his music.