The sundering, p.1
The Sundering, page 1
THE SUNDERING
THE SUNDERING SERIES
BOOK 1
D RAE PRICE
CONTENTS
Books in this series
Notes on Science and Religion
900 years in the future
1. Escape
2. Alarm
3. The Sundering
4. Mystery Cargo
5. First Crossing
6. Messages
7. Takeover
8. Passing in the Night
9. The Long Run In
10. Danger Zone
11. Fast Approaching
12. Breakdown
13. Picking up the Pieces
14. Starting Over
15. Journeying Together
16. The Last Ship In
17. Second Station
18. State of Emergency
19. Star and Sky
20. Appearances
21. The One Tree
22. Branching Out
23. Off the Map
24. Wandering
25. Lander’s Moon
26. Perfect Match
27. Nocturne
28. Shockwave
29. The Ocean of Space
30. Shuttle Diplomacy
31. The Two Seas
32. Alien Fever
33. To Save Canyon
34. A Little Ship
35. The Race to Seven
36. Desperate Decisions
37. Battling Gravity Balls
38. Code Jumping
39. Bolt from the Blue
40. Destiny at Daydream
41. Homeward
42. Paths to the Future
Excerpt from The Sundering Series, Book 2: The Unbounded
Acknowledgments
Also by D Rae Price
About the Author
Notes
Copyright © 2022 by Donna Rae Price. All rights reserved.
Maps and diagrams © 2022 by Donna Rae Price. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Book Cover Design &
Illustration © Tom Edwards
TomEdwardsDesign.com
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Library of Congress Control Number: 2022910595
ISBN 979-8-9852043-3-9 (paperback)
ISBN 979-8-9852043-4-6 (e-book)
First Edition August 2022
Published by: DRaePriceBooks, Concord CA, USA
Contact: DRaePriceBooks@gmail.com
Created with Vellum
The Sundering Series
Book 1: The Sundering
By D Rae Price
Published by DRaePriceBooks
* * *
Coming soon:
Book 2: The Unbounded
Book 3: The Harbingers
Book 4: The Convocation
Dedicated to my family
NOTES ON SCIENCE AND RELIGION
LAGRANGE POINTS
Not to scale
In space, for a planet orbiting its central star, there will be five places, called Lagrange Points, where gravity balances. A small object, such as a space station or asteroid, could be placed in those spots and stay there. This also works for some planet and moon systems. These points were discovered in the late-1700s by the mathematician Joseph-Louis Lagrange.
Three of these points, L1, L2, and L3, are “metastable.” It’s similar to a ball balancing on top of a hill. A small push will send it down the hill.
However, the L4 and L5 points are stable, as if the ball were inside a bowl. A little push will make the ball roll around in the bowl, but it won’t get out. In fact, there are asteroids that ended up in the L4 and L5 points of many planetary orbits, especially the bigger planets like Jupiter. These asteroids are called Trojans.
* * *
To see maps and diagrams, go to:
https://www.draepricebooks.com/maps-diagrams
* * *
The Bahá’í Faith
The Bahá’í Faith is a real religion, founded by Bahá’u’lláh in the mid-1800s. The quotes used are real quotes from the Bahá’í Faith. For more information: https://www.bahai.us/.
The Badí‘ Calendar
The Badí‘ calendar, used by members of the Bahá’í Faith, is also a real calendar. New Year’s Day is set on the spring equinox on Earth. It has 19 months of 19 days and 4-5 intercalary days, known as Ayyám-i-Há, so the calendar will match the solar year. The day begins and ends at sunset.
* * *
Names of the Months
(On Earth, dates vary slightly with the equinox, but these “set” dates are used in the sectors.)
Splendor: Mar 21 - Apr 8
Glory: Apr 9 - Apr 27
Beauty: Apr 28 - May 16
Grandeur: May 17 - June 4
Light: June 5 - June 23
Mercy: June 24 - July 12
Words: July 13 - July 31
Perfection: Aug 1 - Aug 19
Names: Aug 20 - Sept 7
Might: Sept 8 - Sept 26
Will: Sept 27 - Oct 15
Knowledge: Oct 16 - Nov 3
Power: Nov 4 - Nov 22
Speech: Nov 23 - Dec 11
Questions: Dec 12 - Dec 30
Honor: Dec 31 - Jan 18
Sovereignty: Jan 19 - Feb 6
Dominion: Feb 7 - Feb 25
Ayyám-i-Há: Feb 26 - Mar 1
Loftiness: Mar 2 - Mar 20
Nine hundred years in the future,
a peaceful humanity reaches out from Earth,
looking for planets, looking for people,
looking for their place in the galaxy.
They find more than they bargained for.
The date 16-Speech-1082 BE
would be in December, 2925 CE.
1 ESCAPE
Date: 16-Speech-1082 BE
Hamada Station, Sector 8
* * *
Head down, hood up, Jarvie was hurrying toward the shuttle dock when he saw two of the biggest junkees from his class. No! No one can see me! He ducked into a shop to dodge them. If they put his picture on the junk news today, his carefully-planned escape would be ruined. That he was the tallest and most recognizable person on Hamada Station made the task nearly impossible. But today was his only chance. He had to make it.
Jarvie had waited two years for this opportunity. Another classmate was taking a few select friends to Redrock for vacation during the teen training break. Of course Jarvie wasn’t invited, but easy enough to lie to his caretaker, as Yan would never check. He had a full eight days before he would be missed.
Jump ships were leaving soon for the five-day trip to the a-rings. And then, once they jumped, he would be free. All he had to do was get a shuttle to the docking ring before the teen training drill, and get on a departing ship.
Jarvie checked the time on his p’link. Sixteen minutes. Sarcee was hissing inside her podpup carrier. He peeked in. “Sarcee!” Then he realized he was in the bot repair shop. No podpup would tolerate that. I have to get out of here.
Hefting his backpack and Sarcee, he slumped out of the repair shop, hunching over and shuffling along.
It’s so crowded. There was not supposed to be a crowd. Not today! A calm public announcement broke through his panicked thoughts. “Departures: Clear security at the green gate. Arrivals: Meet regular arrivals at the red gate.”
Jarvie veered toward the two long lines at the green gate choosing the shorter line on the right. He checked Sarcee again. She glared at him.
“Sarcee,” he whispered. “It’s our only chance.”
“Bad Zharvee!”
He cringed. I have to get away from this miserable life.
The boarding school would have sent him home by now anyway, he was doing so badly. But he had no home. His distant cousin Yan had been appointed as his caretaker. But Jarvie couldn’t stand it. He was ship-raised, not a station kid. And the other students constantly stared or took his picture for the junk news. He couldn’t take their pity—or the notoriety.
“I need to be in space,” Jarvie had told the counselor.
“We’re all in space,” he’d replied.
Obviously, the counselor had never lived on a ship. My ship. My people. My last person, Lanezi, stalling at Harbor Station, risking his piloting job waiting for me.
Jarvie despaired at the length of the lines. 30 people each. Families. He’d heard that people were finding excuses to leave the outer sectors, but maybe things were worse than he thought. The ship he needed, the Drumheller, always left dock at 20:00. Drumheller’s Captain was boringly predictable. Plenty of time once he cleared the gate. 11 minutes until the drill. He timed the line and calculated. He wasn’t going to make it.
Frantically, he checked the other line. Just three people up was a long jump pilot. Serene, she was gazing out the observation window. The people behind her were on their p’links or chatting. Her line started to shuffle. With his long legs, Jarvie scuttled to the left and forward, sliding in front of her before she could even move. She barely noticed. He stared at the deck. Don’t meet their eyes. One thing he’d learned about having to wear the red armband; people didn t expect good behavior.
Jarvie had a pang of guilt for his cousin, Yan. Young and preoccupied, he hadn’t been much of a caretaker. To compensate, he’d taught Jarvie the ins and outs of station and ship security, even though Jarvie didn’t have the clearance. Yan thought he was helping, inspiring Jarvie to a career, and making up for his lack of interest in school. And thanks to Yan, Jarvie had cleared himself through shuttle security. But come next week, Yan was going to be in serious trouble.
The red gate to their right parted and people from the arriving shuttle walked unsteadily down the ramp. Just seeing them in their crew jackets and ship uniforms with their podpups made Jarvie’s heart ache with longing. How many times had he come down a ramp like that with his family, full of excitement to be in station? Even if he got away today, there would be no going back to that life. “You can’t escape what happened,” the counselor had told him. I can try.
10 minutes. Still not fast enough. Another long jumper, in Jarvie’s original line, was four or five people ahead. Jarvie would be noticed for sure if he moved again. But with a few quick steps and good timing, he was in front of the pilot. He heard a few people clear their throats this time. He could not risk cutting again. He made a show of checking Sarcee. People were very patient about the podpups. Maybe they would think something was wrong. He settled into the line and the crowd let it go.
To avoid looking at the people around him, he studied the arriving crews and ship families only a few meters away. One man in a pilot’s jacket caught his eye. He wasn’t exactly short or stocky, more like compact. Young 40s. Straight black hair flopping over a red headband. Ragged clothes, except for the tan pilot’s jacket. Drumheller patch. Oh no! Could it be? Jarvie turned to watch him. The clincher—one lonely ship pin on his jacket. Meaning he’d been on only one ship in all his years. It was. Captain Beezan.
Beezan would not be at the Drumheller when Jarvie got there. He’d broken his schedule. And a Captain like Beezan would only do that if he were forced to. How long would he be gone? Hours certainly. Days? How long could Jarvie hide on the freezing docking ring? Even worse, the hesitant, haunted look on Beezan’s face made Jarvie rethink his plan. Maybe Counseling was right, and the Solo Journey pilots really were going crazy being out there alone.
The line shuffled and Jarvie went with them. But now he hesitated. He’d be trapped on a ship with a stranger, probably a very troubled loner. His heart pounded. Go or stay?
“New caretakers to the white gate.”
Jarvie’s head whipped to the right. Dock workers were pulling a privacy screen across the ramp area so people couldn’t see what was happening. But Jarvie didn’t have to see. He knew what was happening on the other side. He’d been there, reeling down that ramp in a grief-stricken daze with a counselor gripping his arm.
A bunch of caretakers moved to meet the new orphans—so many today. No wonder it’s crowded. Jarvie looked away. But in his mind, he saw Yan’s gasp of astonishment at the height of Jarvie, his new orphan. Followed by a frown. A frown that was still there two years later.
His turn at the green gate. Jarvie took one last newly determined step. Crazy pilot or not, he wasn’t going back to station life. He pressed his p’link on the sensor. Green and a beep. With long strides, he followed the painted lines to the shuttle departures ramp.
He would have breathed a prayer of thanks, but he had long ago given up anything but his nightly prayer for forgiveness. He’d crossed the gate. He was a runaway now.
2 ALARM
Beezan zipped up his tan pilot jacket and grabbed the rail at the top of the ramp, steadying himself in gravity. Emotions collided around him as thrilled families greeted each other at the bottom of the ramp, and one gate over, the recently orphaned were delivered to their new lives.
Thank God I’ve never orphaned anyone—the only “good” thing he could say about the losses on his ship. Then he unzipped his jacket again to cool a flush of shame.
A man brushed his elbow trying to get around him, then seeing his pilot jacket, jerked away. “Please excuse me, honor.” Beezan shook his head quickly and glanced away. That innocent brush of humanity set off a bout of longing. He’d been in the Solo Journey program for eight years now. Only two years to go. It seemed like an eternity. But which was worse, the loneliness or the loss?
A long jump pilot started down the ramp with her crew protectively surrounding her. Beezan slipped in behind, staying in their wake. The crew was obviously excited to be in station. He used to have crews like that. And before, he’d had a family like that. Coming here alone was a reminder of everything he’d lost. As much as this sort of “enrichment” was recommended, he never would have come on his own.
But here he was anyway, after surviving a trip on that broken-down excuse for a shuttle. Counseling had summoned him. Why? He’d done his med and psych evals on the docking ring. He was carefully compliant. He wasn’t due for implants for years.
They couldn’t possibly know about the noises. He’d never even looked it up. He searched his grandfather’s library of real books until he found “auditory hallucinations.” Normal. There was nothing wrong with him. Turning up the music was all the cure he needed.
It better not be an inspirational talk. He was busy. He had cargo to load, an upgrade to install, and a schedule to keep. On his previous visit to Counseling, they had advised him to take on a crew. So they could all die like last time? He shuddered. It wasn’t my fault. I was cleared. What if they changed their minds? What if they’re going to pull my license?
Beezan stopped at the bottom of the ramp and stepped aside, taking a deep breath. He looked up at a big sector map, trying to start a new line of thought. Hamada Station was in Sector 8, the collapsing frontier of humanity’s expansion, but it bustled with teens in colored armbands attending the big teen training boarding school. There was a massive education effort to train teens in the skills needed in the outer sectors, skills like holding old shuttles together with tape and glue.
* * *
The map had been permanently painted on the wall. Sector 8, the last Sector, was opened 200 years ago, so Beezan guessed they didn’t expect the map to change much. Eight Sectors, like eight giant wagon wheels, overlapped in a chain across the frontier of space. At the top, in Sector 1, there was a tiny yellow dot, representing the Solar System. If there had been a blue dot for Earth, it had long ago faded away.
The planetary system names were so . . . happy. So pretty. So promising. Indigo, Malachite. Athabasca was in Sector 4, where the Drumheller was built, back when there was still expansion going on, people still coming out, when there was still the adventure of new systems to be found, and the dream of another Earth. Their fantasy had died a long hard death, leaving future generations the legacy of broken-down stations with heartbreaking names orbiting barren worlds, and a supply line hanging by a thread. Not a thread, by worn out solo pilots.
Hamada standard gravity was a little less than Earth’s, by which all g-forces were measured. Not that Beezan would know personally. He’d never even been to Sector 1, and probably never would. Like many people in the outer sectors, he would live his whole life without ever seeing the home planet. Out here, Earth had faded away from both maps and minds.
