The Traveler (The Forevers Book 2), page 1
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
THE FOREVERS: THE TRAVELER
Copyright © 2022 G Michael Smith All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the author, except in the case of brief excerpts in reviews and articles.
Illustrated by G Michael Smith
Cover art © GrandeDuc
Cover design & Interior layout/design by Vanessa Anderson at NightOwlFreelance.com
Paperback ISBN-13: 978-1-949193-18-3
Hardcover ISBN-13: 978-1-949193-20-6
To Cheryl Cameron who always has my best interest at heart.
“Nowhere can man find a quieter or more untroubled retreat than in his own soul.”
– Marcus Aurelius
CHAPTER 1
Biome 3
CHAPTER 2
Roller Venom is Nasty Stuff
CHAPTER 3
Taken
CHAPTER 4
Imprisoned
CHAPTER 5
Getting Prepared
CHAPTER 6
Quite the Piece of Work
CHAPTER 7
A Hairy Situation
CHAPTER 8
A Slave or a Spy – Take Your Pick
CHAPTER 9
Saved by Sergio
CHAPTER 10
A New Prison
CHAPTER 11
Hair and Testing
CHAPTER 12
Contact With Poppy
CHAPTER 13
The Interview
CHAPTER 14
New Friends – Possibly
CHAPTER 15
There are Brain Waves and Then There are Brain Waves
CHAPTER 16
Rocks and Probes
CHAPTER 17
Chatting With Chloe
CHAPTER 18
Not So Polite Discussions
CHAPTER 19
Not So Special After All
CHAPTER 20
Worms
CHAPTER 21
Fatigue and Fear
CHAPTER 22
Running Again
CHAPTER 23
Travel Plans
CHAPTER 24
Still Running
CHAPTER 25
HUB Prison
CHAPTER 26
In and Out of Solitary
CHAPTER 27
Gen Pop
CHAPTER 28
When is a Rose Not a Rose?
CHAPTER 29
The Horticultural Center
CHAPTER 30
Breaking Out – Wu Style
CHAPTER 31
Out and About
CHAPTER 32
In and Out of the Woods
CHAPTER 33
Safe in Space
CHAPTER 34
Goodbye, Poppy
CHAPTER 35
Wu is Now in Charge, Sort Of
CHAPTER 36
The Bloc Hed Den
CHAPTER 37
Spike is Back
CHAPTER 38
Commander Wu
CHAPTER 39
Reconnaissance
CHAPTER 40
Death and Destruction
CHAPTER 41
Rescue and Run
CHAPTER 42
Plans
CHAPTER 43
Recruiting Chloe
CHAPTER 44
Taken
CHAPTER 45
End Game
FURTHER READING
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CHAPTER 1
Biome 3
The Swarm would arrive in 89 years. This was not a lot of time to complete the biome ships and send the best of mankind to the stars.
Technology was accelerating. Much progress had been made. Much more was needed to escape the wall of rocks that was rushing inexorably toward the solar system. Earth would not survive. That was a given. But perhaps, with a lot of work and a lot of luck, the human race might live and grow on other planets in the galaxy.
It was a year ago today that Jayne Wu arrived on Biome 3. A drop of sweat rolled down her forehead and onto her nose. It hung there and swelled to an almost impossible size. She could not wipe it away. She was inside a protective suit that isolated her from the potential nastiness in the jungles of Biome 3. Jayne shook her head and the drop of sweat flew from the end of her nose, splattered on the faceplate of her protective suit, and was unceremoniously sucked away by the suit systems. She sniffed and snapped shut the moss-covered access panel in which she had been working. She heard a sucking sound as the panel door sealed itself against any foreign matter that might harm the inner workings. Jayne’s repairs were simple. Locate the designated access panel, set the repair tent over the panel, enter the tent, open the panel, and complete the required repairs. She had completed the task and was about to remove the sealed tent when she felt a shiver run up her spine. Something was out there watching her.
She breathed slowly and listened. The feeling that flooded her grew stronger and more ominous. The repair tent wouldn’t provide a lot of protection from the dangerous creatures of Biome 3, but it should have alerted her of any potential dangers. The tent’s systems should have also identified any dangerous flora or fauna in the vicinity.
Jayne paused and then shrugged her shoulders and pressed the button next to the tent door. With a zipping sound, the tent retracted into a small package. Jayne looked around for the source of her feelings but could see nothing. She bent down on one knee, glanced quickly down at the tent package, picked it up, and slipped it into her pouch, all the while scanning the path for movement. There was nothing.
Jayne spoke into her suit recorder, “Repair completed. Replaced damaged IC component. Returning to Biome Central.”
She returned the way she had come, along a small path to where she had parked the floater. It was a small transportation unit fitted with an anti-gravity device. It could float about a meter from the ground and travel 10 to 15 km/hr. It was an indispensable fixer tool.
She removed the tent and a few tools from her pouch and placed them in the floater tool compartment. She touched her helmet, and the faceplate retracted. The sterile air of the suit was replaced by the humid jungle air. She breathed deep. She climbed aboard, initiated propulsion, and headed down the path. Her feelings of imminent danger dissipated as she zipped along. She looked ahead through breaks in the jungle foliage. She was twenty meters from where the path widened and joined a larger and busier tract. She pressed the accelerator on the floater. It jumped forward. At the same moment, a crackling sound and the smell of ozone filled the air.
A shimmering ball of yellow and orange static electricity spontaneously appeared, hovering over the floater’s rear-drive compartment. The whirr of air that usually accompanied a skimming floater abruptly stopped.
Suddenly powerless, the floater dropped nose-first in front of a rotting log that lay across the path. Jayne was tossed, head over heels, off the floater. She landed flat on her back, her legs draped over the log. The faceplate automatically snapped closed with the jar of the landing.
As Jayne mentally scanned herself for injury, dread filled her. She realized that this was not a log but one of the most dangerous creatures of Biome 3. It was a roller.
In an instant, the creature rolled, backing over her legs, pinning them to the ground. Almost immediately, she felt the pressure. The roller began to flatten out, pressing her lower legs firmly to the ground as a million root-like tendrils sought an entrance into her suit. As it flattened, the roller slowly slithered up past her knees, locking her legs in place.
A roller resembled a dead log across a path. It waited for its prey to step on it. The roller was so named because it would roll away from its prey and then quickly roll back over and press whatever creature it had captured into the ground. A roller’s needle-like tendrils are tipped with a tranquilizer and a digestive acid. Once drugged, its prey typically would calmly wait for the beast to suck out their juices until all that was left were bones and hair. But Jayne was not typical.
Jayne looked around the small clearing. She could not believe she had been trapped by a roller. During her training, she was taught how to set a roller off by jumping onto it and then jumping quickly to the side. A roller took a long time to reset. It would flatten itself to the ground while its needle-like suckers searched for the prey it hoped it had caught.
She scanned the edge of the jungle. She could see nothing, but she could feel a presence. She heard a rustle of foliage behind her. She twisted her head, trying to see who it was.
“Help me, please!” called Jayne. There was another rustle and then nothing. She was not sure anyone had been there. She knew the fixer suit would protect her, but only for a short time. The roller crept up her legs, and Jayne instinctively put her unprotected hands on the moving edge. The pain was searing, and she pulled her hands away. The tips of her fingers and part of her palms oozed blood from a thousand stings. The pain quickly faded as the tranquilizing venom took effect.
The roller, sensing a source of food after it tasted blood, flattened faster and moved up Jayne’s t
highs. She touched the communicator on the jaw of her helmet, leaving a smear of blood behind. It was a mayday signal that would set off an alarm in Biome Central and would alert them of her peril.
She spoke calmly, “I am pinned by a roller. I figure I have about eight minutes. My hands have been…” she paused, looking for the right word. “Compromised. Once it reaches my chest, it may press all the air out of my lungs or, failing that, crush the faceplate of my helmet. Please hurry.” The roller venom was making her head swim.
Jayne held her arms straight up from her body. As she felt the blood on her hands trickle down her wrists, she reflected on her training. She had gotten sloppy. Gloves were to be worn at all times. The problem with the gloves was the size. Even the smallest was too big for her hands. She could not work with them on, and she had forgotten to replace them after completing the repair. She tried to move her hips, but the movement was sensed by the roller, and it clamped even harder on her legs and oozed inexorably upward.
Biome Central crackled in her helmet. “It will take us 12 minutes to get to you. If you wiggle, the roller will move faster. I know this is hard advice to accept in your situation, but please relax and be as still as you can. We are on our way.”
Jayne slowly filled her lungs and slowly exhaled through her nose. She had not felt this afraid for a very long time. The fear was opening old memories of imminent death. Jayne remembered what she felt when the old woman, Dr. Winter Bancroft, had tried to take over Jayne’s mind and rewrite Jayne’s thoughts and memories with her own. She remembered ‘the push’ that would slow time so she could search the eternal list of possibilities and find the answer. Once found, she would push the chosen potential action until it reached the probability of one, until it was real.
Jayne searched now, but the swirl of possibilities was filled with mist and smoke. The venom the roller had injected into her hands had muddled her brain. She started to smile and fade as the roller pressed down on her ribs. She filled her lungs and tried to hold the air inside. Her head was spinning.
She threw her hands back over her head as far as she could. Her ribcage slipped from the roller’s grip and she sucked in air. At the same time, she felt her feet come free of the roller’s grip. It had reached the maximum spread, releasing her feet to move up over her ribs. Jayne instinctively wiggled her feet; a little at first, and then harder and faster. She felt the roller’s grip on her chest ease, and it moved back to her feet and locked them in place once again. Jayne breathed and held her feet as still as possible. Once again, the roller released her feet and moved over her chest, restricting her breathing. Once again, Jayne wiggled and twisted her feet as violently as she could. The cycle continued as the roller oozed down and locked her feet in place while Jayne filled her lungs with air.
She did not know how many times she had teased the roller to allow her to breathe. She knew she would be rescued if she could just keep the cycle going.
Her feet came free once again, but the venom injected into her hands had done its work. She forgot the importance of kicking her feet. She forgot she needed to breathe.
Her mind drifted to thoughts of GravBall and the HUB. She mumbled, “Pass me the ball. Pass me the ball,” and raised her hands over her head.
CHAPTER 2
Roller Venom is Nasty Stuff
The flora and fauna of the biomes were developed to mimic what might be encountered on the planets the biome ships were destined to colonize. The developers embraced a highly contentious philosophy. This philosophy created very dangerous creatures in the biomes. The developers considered the probable destination planet habitat and the gravity in the development of these plants and animals. They wished to prepare the biome inhabitants for the scope and degree of dangers they would surely encounter. The omies would need to have a highly developed sense of caution.
At the moment she lost consciousness, Jayne was vaguely aware of somebody or something grabbing her wrists. Jayne woke. She opened her eyes, but she could see nothing in the complete darkness. She felt something over her face and instinctively reached up to touch it, but her hands felt like boxing gloves. The right one touched her face before she expected it to, and pain pounded in her hand. She wiggled her fingers and quickly realized that was a bad idea as the pain swelled from her hand, up her arm, and crashed in waves across her torso. She moaned and froze with her hand held perfectly still above her body. She was afraid to move any part of her body in case the pain came again.
She breathed slowly. As the pain in her hand faded, the rapid pounding in her head increased in intensity. She heard footsteps and her heart rate jumped until it was beating in unison with the throbbing in her head.
She slurred the question, “Who’s there?” Her lips would not move, so her words were annunciated with her tongue in a parched mouth.
“Don’t talk and please don’t try to move,” spoke a soft and consoling voice. “You are at the medical center of Biome Central. We are preparing you for transport. You received a massive dose of roller poison. The antidote has made your eyes extremely light sensitive, hence the light mask. Your hands received quite a dose of digestive acid from the roller. We have fitted you with leach gloves to stimulate the regeneration of your fingertips. Here, sip this.”
Jayne felt a tube in the corner of her mouth and instinctively sipped water. She held it in her mouth and let it slowly trickle down her throat. She sipped more, and as the liquid slipped down her throat, it seemed to carry away some of the throbbing pain in her head.
She tentatively filled her lungs with air and as she exhaled, the words followed, “Where are you taking me?”
“Oh, you are heading planet side. It seems you are more important than you look. You are headed for…” the voice paused, “…some specialized medical center on the west coast. I’ve never heard of it. But we omies of Biome 3 are seldom privy to much that happens on the planet.”
Jayne moved her hand and moaned.
“The medication I just gave you will help with the pain. I am going to remove the light mask. Most of the sensitivity will have dissipated by now. Keep your eyes closed.”
Jayne felt the mask being removed from her face. The air cooled her moist cheeks. Her eyelids were being swabbed. “Can I open them now?” she asked.
“Yes. But slowly. If you feel any sharp pain, just close them again and it will fade. Let the light in a little at a time,” the voice ordered. “I see from your chart that you are a tetrachromat. You may see more than the rest of us, but the downside is that you are also more sensitive to light, and after a dose of roller poison, I imagine the pain would be excruciating.”
Jayne slowly opened her eyes to blurs of color. The pain was sharp, but she pushed it aside and blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision.
A smiling face slowly coalesced to a sharp focus. It was a face typical of the omies of Biome 3. This biome had been designed to expedite human evolution and enhance survival on the destination planet. One of the genetic modifications was intended to improve the immune system. Alligator genes were used to take advantage of one of the most powerful immune systems on planet Earth. Some unforeseen side effects of these gene splices resulted in changes in the dermis of the natives of Biome 3. Their skin was smooth and translucent. There were scale-like formations visible under the epidermis. These were clustered mostly around the eyes, nose, and mouth. When a Biome 3 omie smiled, these scale-like formations took on a phosphorescent quality and glowed with a light of their own. Jayne stared at the shifting pinks and greens around this omie’s eyes. It was startlingly beautiful.
“May I have my VID (Visual Identity Designator)?” asked Jayne. “I think it was in my pouch.”
“Everything had to go through sterilization. I will see if your VID survived, but there is no way you can use it,” said the omie pointing at Jayne’s hands. She turned and exited the room.
Jayne’s vision was improved, and she scanned the small room. It was a typical emergency medical service room equipped with a single bed and some electronic monitoring equipment. Jayne’s eyes rested on her hands. It looked like she was wearing gauze boxing gloves. They throbbed. She did not move her arms or fingers, fearing a new wave of pain. She was wearing a hospital gown and was covered with a white sheet tucked tightly under the mattress. She tried to move her legs, but the sheets seemed to hold them firmly in place. She tried to wiggle her toes as she stared down at the sheet that covered them. Nothing moved.
