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    Wavefall
    Wavefall
    Wavefall
    Ebook65 pages50 minutes

    Wavefall

    By Rebecca A. Demarest

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Canaries keep us alive; but only when they die.

    He ran to the edge of the universe to  escape his notoriety; she wasn't given a choice in assignment. Now, they are the only two people who can save their universe from the wave of death washing across the vast emptiness.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRebecca A. Demarest
    Release dateNov 14, 2019
    ISBN9781386805663
    Wavefall
    Author

    Rebecca A. Demarest

    Rebecca A. Demarest is an author, award-winning book designer, and technical illustrator living in Seattle, WA with her husband, Jason, their dog-like cat named Cat, and their Portie puppy named Teal'c. When she isn’t writing or making books and flowcharts pretty, Rebecca can be found crafting, working on her indoor forest, climbing, hiking, and generally loving being back in her native Pacific Northwest. Rebecca graduated from Willamette University Cum Laude in 2009 with a B.A. in Psychology and English, and from Emerson College in 2011 with an M.F.A. in Creative Writing and Publishing. She has worked on a variety of journals, and is currently the Senior Technical Illustrator at O’Reilly Media and the house designer for the Seattle Play Series.

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      Book preview

      Wavefall - Rebecca A. Demarest

      Wavefall

      The docking klaxon sounded and Brad stopped pretending to read. After a moment, the new shift of miners disembarked; mostly rough and strung out as usual, in jumpsuits showing too much wear and with the lanky stretched appearance that comes from excessive time off-world. You didn’t end up on Serinus unless you were at the end of your options—or you’d pissed off Corporate something fierce.

      The Serinus Mining Colony was ancient, barely maintained, and so far out that it was hardly a line-item on Corporate’s balance sheet, a rounding error totalling one asteroid. That’s why Brad had requested this posting. Here, his past could stay in the past; it was easier to pretend he was just another down-on-his-luck miner. It also helped that the station was small enough that it only rated one Canary, which meant that they were easier to avoid, easier to keep from thinking about his mother every time they crossed paths. The Canary for the last deployment had been an older man by the name of Davies, but he was approaching retirement, and the new Canary was due to dock in the next hour. It was this impending arrival that had Brad loitering by the docking bays during his free time, instead of gaming with his shift in the dining hall. If he knew what the new Canary looked like, it made it that much easier to stay out of their way.

      The last few people through the hatch were laughing, jockeying for a spot around someone much shorter. One of them stopped and offered a hand to his shorter companion to help them over the bulkhead, and Brad got a good look at the new Canary.

      Slapping the man playfully on the shoulder, she brushed past him, acting miffed at his chivalry. He gasped at the playful hit, acting like it was a mortal wound before catching back up. She had the telltale implant and heterochromia—one tawny brown eye, the other jade green—and thick dark-blonde hair wound up into a regulation bun to keep it out of the way of station instruments. Linking arms with a couple of the men, the new Canary demanded a drink.

      Brad blinked a couple of times and then shook his head at their exuberance before he headed back to his quarters. This Canary was not what he had been expecting, and he wondered what exactly she had done to piss off Corporate so bad that they sent her all the way out here, because people as attractive and charismatic as that never ran out of options.

      ◈◈◈

      Andrea left her shipmates at the bar, turning down the offers of more drinks by pleading a desire to get a good night’s sleep before reporting for duty. As if her antici-palpitations would let her sleep. For the first time since she was discovered hiding in plain sight, lives depended on her, on her premature coma and/or death. The nightmares about lying paralyzed while people died around her anyway would not go away, no matter how many drugs or therapies the orientation counselors had tried. She thought she had hated having to hide her whole life, always remember her contacts, but the reality of being a Canary and of having other human lives dependent on her was so much worse.

      There was nothing she could do about that now, however. Her only way to make sure her nightmares didn’t become reality was to make enough friends that they’d pause long enough to think to pick her up when she went down. And in the meantime, she’d recruit enough bed partners that when she woke up, sweating and heart pounding, there was a warm body beside her to anchor her to the here and now.

      When she finally made it to her cabin, it was the size of her closet at home, but she was lucky enough to have it all to herself. There was some theory that this reduced cortical stress levels and made the implant more effective, but she hadn’t been able to follow the science. She was just grateful for the end result.

      Before slumping into bed, Andrea leaned toward the mirror, trying to get a good look at the quantum implantable microtubule monitor in her

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