Click on image to enlarge.
|
Transmigration [MultiFormat]
eBook by Ross Richdale
| |
Regular |
|
 |
|
Club |
| You Pay: |
$8.95 |
|
|
|
$7.61 |
eBook Category: Science Fiction
eBook Description: Four humans find themselves in a small village of Betaham without knowledge of where they come from or who they are. It is a pleasant little town but disturbing memories of a brutal war and a different life flash spasmodically into their minds. Their dreams seem so real but are quite unrelated to their present lives ... that is until they meet a strange farmer and a violent sandstorm arrives at Betaham. They find the farmer isn't even human. Furthermore, they may not even be human themselves. A bombed out city is on the other side of the hills and can be reached though a railway tunnel. The trouble is that the city was destroyed a millennium before and is an archaelogical site visited by the farmer's race who arrived from another planet. Only then do the four learn the truth about themselves...
eBook Publisher: Eloka Systems, Published: malaysia, 2005
Fictionwise Release Date: June 2005
Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [1.3 MB], eReader (PDB) [229 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [213 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [191 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [189 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [225 KB], hiebook (KML) [563 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [296 KB], iSilo (PDB) [174 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [221 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [265 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [280 KB]
Words: 64798
Reading time: 185-259 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
ISBN: 9833227058
 
PrologueIt was a cold spring morning but the skies were clear and the reason for all flights being cancelled at Halvestrata International Airport infuriated the thousands of awaiting passengers. Every airplane from the massive eight hundred passenger sub-orbital Zarona that could reach anywhere on the planet in ninety minutes to the eight passenger vertical float helishuttles were grounded from 0600 hours and all incoming traffic diverted to Jarmoro International, fifty kilometers away. Military police had closed the five incoming superways at 0530 hours but the outward-bound lanes remained open so citizens could leave the airport. Indeed every personal transceiver channel of every person in the eight terminal buildings received an audio and text message telling them that Priority Purple alert was in force and commercial flights would not commence until 1100 hours. Citizens waiting for incoming flights were urged to take an underground light train across to Jarmoro as all through-air taxis were also grounded. At 0620, the high security Terminal U was sealed off with electronic force fields. Nothing, not even the domestic cats that keep the place clear of rodents could get through. Any citizens who did not obey the warning to leave the area slipped to the ground in a deep sleep as theta frequency waves triggered the sleep condition in their minds. Civil employees, guards, police and military personnel, of course had the correct implants in the base of their necks so were unaffected by this minor disruption. The higher their ranking the more sophisticated their blocking electron was. The frequency had already been turned up to put everyone below the rank of Commander or Civilian Personnel Category 8 to sleep. After the emergency, the theta waves would be turned off and everyone asleep would awaken with little more than a pounding headache and an hour or two missing from their daily schedule. At 0630 exactly, a gigantic white Zarona with a blue octagon painted on its tail flew out of the predawn light and landed. Citizens in the ordinary terminals who could see from observation decks or other vantage points either gasped in surprise or gaped in silence. This was Federation Eight that only carried Federation Marshal Kilmorton, the most powerful man in the Northern Alliance since this part of the planet had formed a political federation between eight independent democracies two decades earlier. The gigantic aircraft taxied in beside Terminal U and two boarding air-bridges linked with the side doors. This was different from the usual four air-bridges for ordinary Zarona liners but still unusual for a government airplane that for security reasons, usually only used one air-bridge. One bridge linked to the VIP reception lounge while the other connected to the floor below, one used for incoming freight. The person who walked into the VIP lounge flanked by military and civilian personnel was not the elderly man the local politicians expected but an attractive woman in her early fifties. Gray strands showed beneath the blonde hair but her petite figure was not hidden beneath the navy-blue suit. Her face looked weary but determined lips and raised chin showed that the surrounding bureaucrats did not intimate her. One man dressed in ceremonial robes in vogue a thousand years before, unrolled an ancient scroll and spoke in a soft voice that was carried throughout the terminal in twelve languages. "Federal Marshal Angus Kilmorton is no more. We welcome Federal Marshal Cassandra McDermon, the eighth leader of The Northern Alliance since our country's grand birth, to the Province of Halvestrata." "What happened?" one official whispered to a general beside him. "Kilmorton and two thirds of the government has gone, Governor Caverstron. Doctor McDermon was voted in unanimously by the Grand Coalition in last night's emergency sitting." "Why wasn't I informed, General Berselmore?" Caverstron attempted to look statesman-like but his white face and quivering chin showed through the facade. "You just have," the general snapped. "But why has she come to Halvestra? We are but a minor center in the Northern Alliance." The general glanced down through shaggy eyebrows and pursed his lips with impatience. "You should know that Halvestra became the main western defense district when the war began." "Began? There was no declaration." The general glowered. "A mere formality, Governor Caverstron. The enemy has knocked out our entire electronic surveillance and communication defense systems. Our first and second defense lines have been breached..." His voice continued in a monotone to describe the annihilation of the Northern Alliance's defense system by an unknown weapon the Southern Confederate had impregnated the airwaves with. Ninety-five percent of the Northern Alliance's nuclear arsenal had been rendered unusable with their own fail-safe protection systems shutting them down. "And the remaining five percent?" Caverstron muttered. General Berselmore stared at the governor. "What happens next is for our new leader to decide," he whispered and wiped a hand across his face. "For once, I'm glad the decision is not mine to make." * * * *Doctor Cassandra McDermon was a scientist who was more familiar with the intricacies of her chosen profession than the various grays of running a government of five hundred million citizens that covered forty percent of the world's land mass. Perhaps that was why the Grand Coalition selected her above the ordinary politicians. When asked to accept the position she assimilated the facts, glanced around the bunker room, realized there was nobody else and nodded her acceptance to the House of Representatives speaker. Now she was in another bunker in another part of the city, her city, the place where she grew up and graduated. At the far end of the room a row of monitors were gray and silent. The enemy's weapon had performed well. "The alternatives?" McDermon said in a whisper. "We attempted to bring the five percent of operational nuclear weapons under manual control but may run out of time. The other alternative is your project Doctor ... I mean Federal Marshal McDermon," General Berselmore replied. McDermon's blue eyes were like steel as she gazed at the officials seated around the table. "In theory when my needle enters the atmosphere it will create a force field to contain the entire incoming nuclear arsenal and send the resulting explosions into deep space. However the defense shield has not been tested." "And if it doesn't work?" an official across the table asked. General Berselmore replied. "Armageddon. The resulting explosions are enhanced and dissipated throughout the upper atmosphere. The whole planet dies". "And the odds?" the same official asked. "Fifty-fifty," Cassandra McDermon replied A military officer standing behind the table slipped a piece of paper in front of the general and stepped back. The general dropped his eyes onto the document. "We have twenty minutes before our innermost shields are breached. The enemy's missiles will arrive four minutes later." Cassandra McDermon nodded and spoke almost to herself. "So we have the choice of being annihilated and letting our world be ruled by fanatics or retaliating and possibly wiping out all animal and most of the plant life on this planet" "Everyone voted to go by your decision." "And the so called needle can be activated?" the persistent official cut in again. "Yes. We will use a secret infra-pulse communication that is unaffected by the enemy blackout." Berselmore retorted with no attempt to hide his anger. "That is also another unproven theory General Berselmore. As a scientist, I don't like the situation. The variables are too great," McDermon said. "You have a little over fifteen minutes before the incoming missiles will detonate over us. The protocols are already programmed in. Just look into the eye scanner before you and blink three times. This activates the system. Press the red pressure pad on the left to attempt to launch our retaliatory nuclear arsenal if they come on line in time. Press the blue pressure pad on your right to activate your needle." The general stood and in unison, everyone else in the room also rose to their feet. "We shall leave you to make your decision." He raised one finger and everyone except the federation marshal and himself walked out of the room. The general followed but stopped and turned when he reached the door. "If your needle does not work, only divine intervention can ever bring freedom back to this world, Cassandra." The general used her forename for first time in his life. He stepped out and shut the door behind him. Cassandra gazed at the closed door for two full minutes before she spoke. "Yes General Berselmore but if it wasn't for your kind over the last century we may have had a beautiful planet by now." She reached forward to the instrument on the table, brought it up to her eyes, blinked three times and, without hesitation, reached for the blue pressure pad.
|
){kind=spacer}
