By Sarah A. Hoyt
Interesting area experience by means of a brand new megastar of technological know-how Fiction and myth.
First Time in Mass marketplace Paperback.
Athena Hera Sinistra by no means desired to visit house. by no means sought after see the eerie glow of the Powerpods. by no means desired to stopover at Circum Terra. by no means had any curiosity to find out the reality in regards to the DarkShips. you usually get what you don’t ask for. Which should have been why she awakened at midnight of shipnight, in the higher evening of area in her father’s area cruiser, figuring out that there has been a stranger in her room. very quickly, after removing the stranger—who grew to become out to be one in every of her father’s bodyguards as much as no sturdy, she used to be hurtling clear of the send in a lifeboat to get support. yet what she obtained in its place will be the experience of a lifetime—if she controlled to outlive. . . .
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Extra info for Darkship Thieves (Baen Science Fiction)
And it used to be so plentiful and inexhaustible. Even the harvesters had no suggestion how the timber grew in vaccuum. All they knew was once find out how to decide the pods on the candy spot among ripeness and instability. Too little ripe, and they might have too little strength, slightly valuable transporting to Circum. an excessive amount of and they might blow up and take the harvester with them ahead of ever attending to Circum's extruding chamber. Oh, one other factor they knew—or acknowledged they knew—and that was once that darkship thieves, the descendants of some escaped bio-lords, lived someplace past the celebs and stole ripe pods. Or so they might advised me. I wasn't yes it was once a real legend, or the an identical of news to frighten a baby. i might given them no proposal at all—not till i discovered myself flying into the tangle of powertrees. The joystick used to be sweaty in my hand, and it was once not easy to maneuver—even this small a ship—between trunk and powerpod, conscientiously, rigorously. Harvesters had precision controls and computer-aided guidance. I had a joystick and an unwieldy lifepod that reacted slightly too slowly. Down over a department, I dodged above the following simply in time to prevent smashing into it, after which there has been an important powerpod in entrance of me, the fissures within the epidermis indicating it used to be overripe and approximately to blow. I twisted sideways and infrequently skidded clear of it. and located myself threading a needle gap, slightly big enough for the pod to dive via. I was hoping. I swallowed difficult, as I went into it. i would have prayed if i thought in gods. after which, out of nowhere I hit whatever. now not tough. And no matter what I hit used to be no longer as lethal reliable because the diamond-hard trunks and definitely no powerpod. For one, it did not blow up. Even after hitting it, i could not see what it used to be. It was once . . . darkish. Straining, i'll make out a rounded define, yet slightly distinguishable from the encircling gloom. My throat closed. It was once a darkship. It used to be a darkship piloted through the descendant of the biorulers. The biorulers were inhumanely clever, transformed to be that means. they would additionally been not able to reproduce—leading to their being known as Mules—to make sure that the human race survived. but when this was once a descendant, they need to were capable of reproduce. Or was once this one of many unique biorulers? How lengthy did they reside? And what did they need with us? Their rule of Earth were completely ruthless. they might moved and eradicated populations with out regard. What might they do with me? In a panic, I appeared at the back of, regarded round for a harvester. yet there has been not anyone in sight. i attempted to maneuver clear of the send, yet I appeared to have stuck by some means. All I controlled used to be an extended, painful scrape. And all of the sudden my com button driven itself down and a voice came around it. A deep, male voice, with a wierd accessory. "Blazing Light," it stated. "Why are you scraping my sensors? " I iced over. This factor wasn't a boat. It used to be a creature. a gloomy, large and robust creature. And i would injured it. 4 "Sensors? " I acknowledged, within the common path of the com, sounding some distance much less guaranteed than general. there has been a pause.