Escape From Desolation (eBook)
428 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
979-8-3178-0685-9 (ISBN)
Rob is a former food scientist, corporate lawyer and systems manager who had a passion for art and writing throughout his professional life. Writing was the best way to pass the time on long train commutes, where he penned a full-length novel. He became a stay-at-home Dad and his artwork intensified, leading to active participation in local art shows, where he exhibited his sculptures, featuring an abundance of penguins. Over time writing gained more ground. Escape From Desolation was inspired by a picture displayed in Omni Magazine in the 1980s. The image stuck in his head until it became Book One and Two. His daughter said the story could not end there, and there must be a Book Three. https://escapefromdesolation.com
Alone, stripped of all connections to home, a space captain finds new hope among an ancient alien race-but someone is not happy he is there. Usually, captains go down with their ship but when his vessel explodes, Captain Yoni Arduus is on an escape pod with a handful of his crew. After a fatal encounter with inhabitants of an uncharted planet, the captain is the sole survivor and cast adrift far from Earth. He is forced to embrace a new society while grappling with its harsh stagnation. Within the hidden facets of this alien world, Yoni is haunted by a mysterious leader who secretly manipulates events. Under this shadow, the captain stumbles upon a dark secret that threatens everyone's survival. He knows he must escape the planet. But abandoning his new friends stirs up old guilt. As a chance to escape draws near, Yoni faces an ugly personal truth that defines his future and everyone he cares about. Immerse yourself in a unique alien world that is both otherworldly and strangely familiar the third installment of ESCAPE FROM DESOLATION is a well-paced science fiction thriller that showcases the enduring quest for one man to find purpose amid a confusing landscape of alternative realities, and defines the essence of personal choice.
Chapter One
Mobius Strip
John opened his eyes. He was lying on his back, conscious but not cognitive, forming no thought about where he was or when he was. His mind was blank, completely malleable to the first instance of stimulus. Familiar sounds initiated an expectation about the layout of his surroundings. There was a conflict.
Noises came from the kitchen, which he expected. The clang of dishes, the aroma of frying food, and the quiet humming of a female voice were familiar. Instinct, or a latent memory, led him to expect the sounds from his right, through a passage a meter away. Instead, the noises originated from a doorway on the opposite side of the room, leading to the interior of a house. Once, that doorway had been a window or a portal with a view of a city with one central tower.
He was not in a cot, rather a queen-size bed. The furnishings were made of wood, not composite creations formed and manipulated by a computer. A small window with a wooden sill was near his right side. Outside, a bird had been chirping on the ledge, a chatty common house sparrow. Sirens blared in the street as a vehicle rushed by. Third-cycle rock, the latest revival of original rock and roll, boomed until it was silenced by someone demanding quiet.
He rubbed his face and shook his head, beckoning clarity. The familiar sounds did not fit his last memories.
“Honey?” The voice came from the hall. “Honey, are you awake? I have something for you.” Maddy appeared in the doorway with a tray of food. “Good, you’re awake! I did something last minute, a special surprise . . . breakfast in bed.”
His shock must have been obvious.
“What’s the matter? I’ve done this before.”
He edged himself upright, adjusting pillows to support his back. When he was comfortable, he went stiff like a stone. Maddy smiled with love in her eyes.
She cocked her head back. “Johnny, are you okay? You act like you have seen a ghost.”
The nickname, Johnny, had a familiar ring to it; it rhymed with Yoni, a childhood name he briefly adopted to be different, but he grew out it, a kid’s fancy almost forgotten.
He nodded to reassure her, but her affection was unexpected. She presented herself as a happy life partner, beaming like the first day they were married. Her cheery demeanor was surprising, as though their early blissful days had never died. An ache of memories haunted the room, a phantom contradiction promising that a darker world was a blink away. But Maddy stood there with her tray. If there was another world looming, it faded in the moment. He came to life.
“I’m fine. More than fine. Breakfast in bed! Wow! What’s the occasion?”
An impression that breakfast in bed had not happened in years was replaced with a memory, that she did it a week ago. Another impression that spontaneous gestures of love were extinct was replaced with a realization that they never expired. He woke up believing he was alone, but Maddy proved he was not.
His throat tightened. His eyes watered. His mind went blank. He faced Maddy, melted in the presence of her accepting eyes and affectionate smile, absent of judgment and the baggage of a soured marriage. Reality contradicted latent echoes. A memory nagged at him from a different life, which cautioned him to keep his guard up.
The current moment had its own life and drowned out those latent fears of a darker possibility.
Maddy reached the bed.
“Scoot up. Make room for the tray.”
He moved but not too much. She placed the meal next to him and sat on the bed, watching and waiting for his reaction. She curled one leg under herself and let the other hang over the side. She wore a thin nightgown, one that revealed every detail of her breasts. She smiled because he ignored his meal and stared at her, in a boyish ogling way.
“There’s plenty of time for that later. Now, eat your breakfast while it’s warm.”
He chuckled. “Can you blame me for being distracted by pure beauty?”
“You’re cute and not so bad yourself. Now, eat!”
“Okay. Okay.” The tray was full of his favorites. “What . . . blueberry pancakes?”
“Yup. You deserve something special.”
“Sausage patties!”
“Of course, but I was bad. I got real ones for a change—a guilty pleasure.”
“I’m surprised you found any.”
“I was lucky, but don’t get used to it. Back to vegan for lunch, buddy.” She giggled.
“With what I’ve been eating lately, anything you make is great.”
She scrunched her face, confused. “What do you mean? We’ve been eating the same things.”
He peered down, retreating into his mind, searching his memories and attempting to discern why he made the comment. The past was blurry, with lingering expectations that conflicted with current events, like the chaos of dreams. Contradicting impressions were a fog in his brain. It was a conflict that faded upon tasting the best pancakes he had ever eaten. The dough was spongy, but not too much, also fluffy and airy. There was a hint of vanilla. He bit into a blueberry, which was tart and sweet. He gobbled another bite before he finished chewing the first. He cut off a piece of sausage and stuffed it into his mouth. It was savory and spicy. Beads of water collected on the outside of a large glass of orange liquid.
“Orange juice?” His voice was muffled by an overstuffed mouth.
“Fresh squeezed.” She nudged his knee. “Hey, slow down.”
John reached for the glass with a snap. He almost tipped it over. He guzzled half the juice to wash down his food.
Maddy gawked at his voracious display. “Easy, we have all morning. My goodness, either these are the best pancakes I have ever made or you haven’t eaten in months.”
She grabbed a napkin to wipe bits of food from his lips.
He sighed then chuckled. “It’s wonderful. I’m eating like a pig.”
“Oink!” She nodded in agreement.
“Oink. Oink.” It was a joy joking around with Maddy. It was like the old days. He continued to eat, but more politely.
“Where’s yours?”
“Don’t worry about me. I ate in the kitchen. Enjoy yourself. Try your coffee.”
“Yeah, I forgot.” He grabbed the mug with the word “His” printed on it. He gagged after a large gulp because it was too hot.
Maddy’s eyes widened. “Careful.”
He sipped again, cautiously. “Wow! That’s the best coffee ever.”
She smirked. “I hope I can repeat it.”
He leaned back after he finished the meal. He peered into his wife’s responsive eyes, ones that said, “Hello, I see you.” Ones deep with affection. His throat tightened, a response caused from too much emotion, an overwhelming eruption of delight formed upon the realization that their joy survived.
She had pulled her knee up and wrapped her arms around it. “This is nice.” Her voice was soft.
“Definitely.” He beamed.
Maddy took the tray and placed it on the floor. She returned to bed and crawled on top of him. They kissed, tender cautious connections of lips, little pecks interrupted by caressing tongues. She migrated one hand between his legs. Heat erupted on his face. His heart pounded. His hands followed her contours. They embraced without hesitation, celebrants of physical intimacy and patrons of their union. Two souls became one, a singularity erasing time.
She stirred next to him, pressing his side with a comforting warmth, a tangible reminder he was not alone, a reassurance that completed him. He turned and faced her bare back. It was smooth and delicate. He watched her body expand as she breathed deeply with a rhythm like waves on a calm beach. He kissed Maddy on her shoulder. She murmured.
There was no better place on Earth or any better moment, but a faint impression lingered that it had to be a dream. He moved to the edge of the bed and peered over, discovering the tray that Maddy had placed there. He was relieved to discover that what they exchanged was real. When their intimacy began, he held back, a familiar thing, but only for a moment. He lost control to an unconditional embrace between partners, an indestructible bond, perfect, destined and forever. A conflict nagged at him that another place or time existed, where desolation reigned and Maddy was lost.
After washing up and getting dressed, they settled at the kitchen table, the brightest room in the house as the late-morning sun radiated through the windows. One of the windows was cracked open. A breeze disturbed the light curtains. The chirping of sparrows filtered in. Street sounds were muffled because the backside, the kitchen side, was adjacent to the alley and protected from traffic. Muffled conversations of neighbors intermingled with the birdsong.
“I forgot to pick up a paper. I’m not used to you taking the day off.” She poured him the...
| Erscheint lt. Verlag | 30.6.2025 |
|---|---|
| Sprache | englisch |
| Themenwelt | Literatur ► Fantasy / Science Fiction ► Science Fiction |
| ISBN-13 | 979-8-3178-0685-9 / 9798317806859 |
| Informationen gemäß Produktsicherheitsverordnung (GPSR) | |
| Haben Sie eine Frage zum Produkt? |
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