Book IV of the Inversion Chronicles is free today and tomorrow.
As you have just learnt, it is entitled 'It is only suffering', a line borrowed from a philosophical quote by Miguel de Unamuno that in its entirety goes something like, 'It is only suffering that makes us persons', a relevant though not necessarily accurate observation when set against the book's backdrop:
'This is my story. Moon's story. And the story of another...'
The Aria, a Resistance ship escaping the Executive purge of 1249, is tracked to Satellite252 of Inversion 6, a gas giant in the Inversion system. Moon, a survivor of the ensuing battle, is left alone, stranded on this spherical frozen hell. Caverns discovered deep below the surface offer her shelter, food and warmth where she can recover, take stock, and write her journal in memory of her lost friends and colleagues.
Her determination to survive, to lead some sort of meaningful existence, drives her to create a companion of sorts, a relatively crude machine to sate her most base needs. However, with its primary purpose firmly in place and when left with the tools and materials to improve itself, the machine quickly develops beyond anything she could have possibly imagined.
The Aria, a Resistance ship escaping the Executive purge of 1249, is tracked to Satellite252 of Inversion 6, a gas giant in the Inversion system. Moon, a survivor of the ensuing battle, is left alone, stranded on this spherical frozen hell. Caverns discovered deep below the surface offer her shelter, food and warmth where she can recover, take stock, and write her journal in memory of her lost friends and colleagues.
Her determination to survive, to lead some sort of meaningful existence, drives her to create a companion of sorts, a relatively crude machine to sate her most base needs. However, with its primary purpose firmly in place and when left with the tools and materials to improve itself, the machine quickly develops beyond anything she could have possibly imagined.
It is love story and is virtually stand-alone, so can be enjoyed without having first read the previous tomes. Dive in! Immerse yourself in this distant future universe! And if you enjoy it then simply go back to Book I and enjoy yourself some more!
Love and best wishes till next time,
Alexandra xxxx
A brief extract from 'It is only suffering':
Rotation 452: 1251
The suit saved me. The suit I modified. They'd rejected my suggestions. Said how could a young girl improve what the greatest Inversion minds had created. But I had. It hid me, shielded my vital signs from their instruments. I moved among them and killed at will, shifting silently, picking them off. My customised laserknife cut through their suits, boiled a crevasse through their soft flesh. They fell instantly, their remains sinking into the methane mist that filled every hollow and swirled about my knees.
I dispatched seventeen. On my own. A mere girl. As I did so, my helmet told me the battle's horror story, displayed the casualties. What a fucking bitch of a place to fight. What a fucking awful place to die.
They destroyed the Aria first, took away all hope of escape. They weren't afraid that we now had nothing to lose, that we would now fight to our last breath - they easily outnumbered and outgunned us. Thomas3559 was guarding the ship. He would have been totally oblivious, probably sleeping. He slept a lot, did Thomas. He was eighteen, the youngest among us. Lots of fun to be around. Not the most diligent, it has to be said, but he was still only a boy.
After landing on our satellite's light side, they crossed the terminator and attacked us in darkness. Silently, commando-style. The ground-shaking explosion and accompanying ball of flame as the Aria went up were our first warnings. We suited-up, tooled-up and headed for the surface. It was always the plan to fight there. We'd probably last longer underground, but would succumb eventually - dying like lizards in a sewer. The surface gave us room to move and an outside if unlikely chance. Unlikely, yes. But it worked for me.
Zak's voice crackled in my ear.
'There are too many. We should have stayed hidden. Oh, God. Here they come again. Good luck, everyone. Good luck, Moon. Hold position. Hold... Arghhh...'
Explosions thudded painfully; the dense atmosphere carried the pressure waves quickly and efficiently. The black sky lit up like daylight, casting grotesque shadows of the dead and dying onto the jagged rocks. Black clouds were mushrooms with roots of orange flame. The fighting was vicious, both sides knowing there would be no prisoners taken.
It couldn't go well. We were bound to be overwhelmed. It was just a matter of time. I resolved to take as many of the bastards with me as I could before the inevitable.
To my right, flying quickly and stealthily through the serrated peaks, a solo fighter sped into the fray. Lit only by strobing ground fire, it dropped its payload then banked sharply to the east. Its right wing suddenly shattered in a starburst of crimson and electric blue and it spiralled crazily downwards. I watched, hypnotised by the inevitability of its pilot's impending death. The glare faded, its roaring engine died and it disappeared into the darkness. I waited for the wreath of flame that would signal its impact with the arid plain below, but there was no fire, no explosion. I imagine it plunged into one of the many methane lakes that are splashed across this spherical hell. Ernest gave a victory whoop.
'Yeeha! Got the bastard! I got the...'
The soldier had his back to me, had been firing large calibre shells into our positions. He'd stopped only to watch the fighter's demise. It was the last thing he saw. Now his dying body sank into the misty hollow, the gash at his throat erupting with steaming blood that froze before it hit the ground. The suits have a single Achilles heel and it's there, where the helmet joins the body. Close combat finds it out, but few have the skills or cloaking to get so close. I do. I sheathed my knife and scanned for more life forms.
A seismic blast shook the earth as the fighter's deadly gift erupted. Despite my suit, the shockwave knocked me over, sent me spinning through the air. Showers of sparks fizzed across my visor then it was dark again. Silent and dark. The battle had been painfully loud, but the silence screamed even louder. Voices in my helmet were instantly muted; I knew their bodies were snuffed out.
My silent killing spree was over. I simply lay still, hidden among the rocks as falling debris buried me further from view. I waited an age, heard them picking through the rubble. An occasional blast signalled they had found someone clinging to life.
The ground shook again as a heavy craft - undoubtedly their command ship - hovered just feet above me, the vibrations compacting the rubble around me. Then they left. As the massive ship soared into the sky, the throbbing of the engines rattled my teeth, almost shattered my visor. I didn't move till I was certain it had joined the dots of the constellations.
I slowly fought my way to the surface where the heat of the blast still bled from the glowing rocks. My suit was bloodied, blackened and scuffed but otherwise unscathed. I found the dead cast into a single pile. Both theirs and ours. Charred remains. Torn fragments of suit. Tangles of twisted tubes and wires. Melted helmets, warped metal and frozen limbs - all that was left of their frontline troops and our close but disparate band.
*****
