Here is a sneak peek from work in progress, the first volume of a science fiction trilogy entitled Seven Planets (Brightstar Trilogy, Book 1).
If you are interested in how a novel progresses through drafts, see the links below the excerpt for other drafts of this scene.
Excerpt: scene 1, chapter 1, book 1
Elias swore as he hit his knuckles on a metal strut as he slid out from under the console station. Rolling over and standing up, he dropped his tools on the desktop and rubbed his arms against the cold.
“Echo-9,” he said, “power the display and run a diagnostic.”
“Yes, Dr. Vorn.”
The screen came alive. Data streams and graphs appeared, displaying information from the sensors pointed at Neptune. Temperatures, radiation, weather patterns, surface scans, magnetic fields, chemical and biologic scans, and so on.
A job where nothing happens and no one cares, Elias thought to himself. Except for the never ending repairs.
A team to assess, repair, and update the station was supposed to arrive a year and a half ago. Apparently, the Military Science Division did not consider this orbiting observatory important.
“Primary sensor display is operating within nominal parameters, Dr. Vorn,” the station AI reported.
“Begin running the complete surface and atmosphere scans, and let me know when the results are ready.”
He left the lab and made his way to the galley, down the curved corridor with its frosted walls glittering like shattered glass. Mugs of lukewarm synthetic coffee had become routine, though it did little to warm him. He’d requested parts for the station’s heating system five months ago.
At least the upgrades for Echo-9 had arrived last week. He needed to install those soon. The AI had become frustratingly glitchy at times.
He sat down at a table, took a sip, and sighed. I’m the system’s foremost expert on trans-Jovian astronomy and exoplanetology. Doctorate from the prestigious Solar Concord Academy, specializing in interstellar signals and cosmic phenomena. Groundbreaking papers on pulsar frequencies and yet—
He stopped his thoughts. It did no good to rehearse the past, but it was hard to shut off the chattering monkeys in his mind. The shame of his failure replayed in his head too often. Solitude didn’t help.
“Scans complete, Dr. Vorn.” He dropped the half-empty mug into the washing unit and went back to the lab.
As he waited for the summary of the scans to be compiled, he glanced over at a holopicture of Lila and felt a familiar pang in his gut. His daughter hadn’t spoken to him since the trial and judgement. The last he knew, she was living on the old Orion Station orbiting Earth. Elias had sent her a message on each of her last two birthdays, but received no response.
It wasn’t just her. None of his friends and colleagues had contacted him. Not even Mara, his second on Project Helios. The only messages he ever received were official communications from Station Prime a round Earth or the mining outpost orbiting Neptune on Triton.
The display requested his attention. The surface of the planet was -210 degrees, as it had been every single day of his exile.
It wasn’t technically exile, but the isolation and busy work made it feel like it. Other than a discharge from the Science Directorate, this was the most severe punishment for a military scientist.
Perhaps he should be grateful to have been found reckless instead of fraudulent.
Graphs and lines of information scrolled by as he made notes on his datapad. When finished, he would compile the weekly report and transmit it to the Science Division with readings, anomalies, and his interpretive comments.
“Damn it, Echo-9! That low frequency signal is still there! Didn’t you fix that?”
“My apologies. The initial assessment was incorrect. It is not a flaw in any of the station’s equipment. It appears to be part of background cosmic noise. It does not affect the readings or analysis.
He snorted with irony. That’s what he’d said to his team on Project Helios before the catastrophe.
In this case, though, Echo-9 was probably correct. First, because AI’s didn’t become so emotionally desirous of success that they ignored important data. Second, all other reading were the same as usual. Day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year.
He suspected no one read his reports. The Solar Concord had more pressing concerns. Like a possible revolt by the Mars colony, or the shortage of resources for Earth and its orbiting cities.
He glanced up as the lights in the lab flickered for a few seconds, then steadied. Every display screen went blank, then came back on.
“What was that?”
There was a long pause. “Station power dropped below nominal levels. Cause unknown.”
“That’s helpful,” Elias said as he returned to his work. “Keep me informed.”
Probably another decaying equipment failure. If enough of them occurred, perhaps there would be a catastrophic failure, and he could die here. An ignoble but fitting end.
NOO-7, Neptune Orbital Observatory 7, was built decades ago as part of a broader initiative by the Solar Concord to expand scientific exploration beyond the inner planets. At that time, it was a cutting-edge research station, commissioned to study deep-space radiation patterns, cosmic radiation, and the dynamics of the Kuiper Belt. It was staffed by a rotating crew of astronomers and physicists. But over time, the Solar Concord grew into an ossified bureaucracy, more interested in the status quo and power politics than exploring the solar system and beyond. NOO-7 became decrepit, relegated to monitoring Neptune and its satellites. For the last sixty-five years, NOO-7 was staffed by only one military scientist at a time. Elias was beginning his third year.
He sighed and turned to the data from the Triton Relay Station, an unmanned orbiting station for quantum communications back to the seven colonies. He was also responsible for checking in with the mining station on Triton. It had originally been intended as staging base for exploring the Kuiper Belt, but was turned over to a private space mining company. It was mostly run by bots, with about fifteen employees.
The relay station’s systems were operating normally as usual—wait. He leaned into the display. A fluctuation had occurred on the Triton Relay Station’s power grid.
He frowned. “Echo-9? Review our power fluctuation and compare with the recent one at the Triton Relay Station.
It took longer than it should have. He really needed to install that upgrade.
“Analysis completed, Dr. Vorn. The power fluctuations occurred at the same time with same duration.”
“Check with the Triton mining outpost.”
He waited.
“Triton mining outpost also experienced a power fluctuation at the same time and same duration.”
It was likely caused by a magnetic anomaly from Neptune. These occurred on occasion, although they had never affected the power grids.
He felt a tug of scientific discovery, buried for these past two years. Maybe he’d discover something new about Neptune. Something that could lead to his status being—
Ha, he thought to himself. Don’t go there. False hope is no hope.
*
All drafts for comparison
Draft 4
