PMF 6 PROLOGUE! (Patreon)

PMF 6: NO MAN'S LAND is with my editor!

Your first question, of course is "When will it be out?" and the answer is still "when it's ready." We need weeks for a couple rounds of editing, but the bulk of the writing is done and the cover illustration is in hand. I'll pitch this to Audible, of course, but not until we're through the first round of edits, at least; I need firm info to send in my pitch.

Again, though, the book is written, just down to the fussy bits now... which means I can share things like the full prologue. (This will probably go up on the website when I'm closer to launch, too, but you wonderful folks get it here & now!)

Monthly short story is in the works!

“People once believed we might set aside hate for our fellow humans once confronted with alien species—especially a hostile species. Perhaps they cynically hoped millennia of intractable war and bigotry would end once we had someone else to make into the “other.”

“Obviously, that didn’t work out. We fought the Nyuyinaro and Krokinthians in the Expansion Wars, but our internal wars continue. The recent appearance of the Minoans cost over a million human lives, and still we bicker and feud. The most likely foe any human soldier will ever face is still another human.”

—Luis Hernandez Garcia: The New, New, New Normal

March, 2281

“It’s free tuition. It’s free tuition. It’s free tuition,” Alicia murmured.

“Keep telling yourself that,” whispered Jessica beside her.

“Eyes front, Cadet! Your shirt is out of line, yours is bloused, and you have threads coming off your seams.” Cadet-Major Matthew Hartmann stalked up and down the hall, watching every second-year cadet standing at attention outside their dorm room doors for any twitch or flaw. The latter was entirely arbitrary, given the hour and the dress code. Bedtime sweats and slippers didn’t exactly have strict uniform standards. Hartmann found flaws, anyway.

“And you: did you press that shirt on a rock?”

Alicia rolled her eyes. Some of Hartmann’s lines were stale before the invention of computers.

Few second-year cadets were stressed out by the boot camp routine, but this nonsense was supposed to end after year one. Still, as the ranking upperclassman, Hartmann technically had the right to this sort of tirade across the cadet corps. If he wanted to posture or power-trip, everyone had to play along—even the prior-enlisted veterans among the cadets corps.

Hartmann stopped directly in front of her and stared. “Cadet Wong.” The short, asymmetric sweep of her hair with one side shaved kept her out of any grooming complaints. He glanced at the seams of her sweatpants: navy blue with the same red bloodstripe on the outer seams that marked all of her other clothes. “Formerly Sergeant Wong, right?”

“Sir, yes, sir,” she answered.

“You wanted to become more, right?”

“I don’t know what you mean, sir.”

“More than a sergeant? Higher rank? You want to be an officer. That’s why you’re here, right? That’s why we’re all here.”

Oh God, this is a power trip, thought Alicia. Newly-elevated to Cadet-Major, Hartmann needed to assert dominance over the whole cadet corps, including—perhaps especially—all the people who had already been out there doing the job. Prior service brought respect, but rank had to rule over all.

It’s free tuition, she reminded herself. Room and board covered. Even a stipend. You get your degree and they pay you for it.

“I wanted to explore a different role, sir.”

“What’s your course schedule?”

“Physics, Calculus, Mandarin, Ethics, Astrogation, and Security Affairs, sir.”

“Security Affairs?” Hartmann looked her over with clear skepticism, like evaluating a car he didn’t want to buy. “Name five current flashpoints around the Union.”

“Holdouts in the Hashem Civil War. Endeavor versus Independence in the Sapphire System. Anti-NorthStar insurgency in Calico. Izumoto’s Star against everyone, all the time. Threats from Minos, closest to Qin Kai, sir.”

“Are we ready for a war with the aliens, Cadet?”

“I thought we did pretty well when I was there, sir.” Alicia smiled only with her eyes. It was enough to make Hartmann blink. His skeptical frown cracked with a flash of embarrassment.

“What’s your sport?” he pressed on.

“Boxing, sir.”

“Small for boxing, aren’t you?”

“Is that an invitation, sir?”

“Nah, I just heard you were a gymnast.”

“Other people should have a chance at those trophies, sir.”

Faces cracked all along the hallway. Alicia’s held steady. Hartmann turned to confront the rest. “Officers are supposed to be our best. Our elite. None of you look all that elite to me.”

Doors at the end of the hall swept open, pulling everyone’s interest; second-years knew how to get away with sideways glances while standing at attention. Two uniforms and a civilian in business casual appeared at the end of the hall. The Archangel Navy officer was part of the faculty at the Academy. The Union Fleet lieutenant and the civilian were on-hand for a specific, ongoing situation. “Cadet Wong, front and center. Right now,” said the faculty officer.

“By your leave, ‘sir,’” Alicia said as customary, but she didn’t wait for Hartmann’s leave. She walked past him in answer to the summons.

“Do you have your holocom?” Thin, thirtysomething, and with slicked-back hair, Norman Hill wasn’t the only civilian involved in the detail, but he had the swing shift. He was also Alicia’s least favorite. She was batting a thousand on that score tonight.

Wordlessly, Alicia held up her left wrist. The Academy-approved black wristwatch-style holocom was bigger and less fashionable than the personal holocoms most people wore mounted into jewelry, but it was durable. It was also built with the strongest physical security and encryption available. No one spoke again until the stairway door shut. Alicia looked to the faculty officer. “Rooftop again, sir?”

“Rooftop again,” he confirmed.

“Any odd experiences in the past week? Unusual contacts? Anything out of the ordinary?” Lieutenant Singh was with Fleet Intelligence. Her questions were serious, but without Hill’s intensity. She didn’t overrate the routine.

“No, ma’am. Ordinary academy life,” said Alicia.

“You went to Fort Melendez on a weekend pass?”

“Seeing my boyfriend, ma’am.”

“Ah.” Singh asked no more.

“We think it best if you not mention the boyfriend unless specifically asked,” said Hill.

“Why not?”

“We don’t want anything to get in the way of establishing a rapport. Any perceived rival might make him less open and forthcoming.”

Alicia made a face. “They’re not gonna get jealous.”

“You don’t know that, Cadet,” said Hill. “In more than a hundred years, this is the first social, individual relationship we’ve seen established by one of the aliens. Every conversation you have gets analyzed by four different teams. Literally anything you tell him could be critical to humanity’s relationship with the neighbors. We know what we’re doing, Cadet.”

“Them.”

“What?”

“They don’t have genders,” said Alicia. “There’s no ‘him’ or ‘her.’ Don’t worry, I goofed that my first time, too. Just correct and move on, it’s fine.”

Hill fumed, but pressed on. “You’ve been briefed on your priority topics. Don’t push, don’t put the connection at risk, but we want to hear anything they have to say about the neighbors, about the Minoans, any of that situation. Anything they have to say on the other alien species is good, too. Maybe a little less about humanity and yourself this time.”

“They asked. I was told not to steer things,” said Alicia.

“Nudge,” said Hill. “Let’s go.”

The party climbed both flights of stairs to the rooftop door. Everyone else stopped short. They all had holocom screens going when Alicia turned to look at them. “You realize they know you’re watching, right?”

“Don’t keep them waiting,” said Hill.

The rooftop of Luke Hall wasn’t exactly dark despite the late hour. Light spread from a figure standing in the center of the concrete deck, decorating the surface in broad, oil-slick whorls of green, blue, and yellow, and above all: “Magenta?”

The Nyuyinaro stood a little over two meters tall, with their broad, leathery wings low and curled in a relaxed posture. Light shined from all over their body: wings, thin torso and shoulders, twin tails, and legs that had drawn closer together as evolution brought their aerial species into the stars—unprotected in the void. Magenta’s clawed feet rarely saw use except for these visits.

Only the Nyuyinaro’s head bore any resemblance to human shapes and anatomy. Their mouth, also rarely used, looked like little more than a thin line. They had no nose, no ears, and twice as many eyes. The lower, darker pair were close enough to human to create some connection. Larger, bulbous eyes near the top of the head enabled even greater projection of light than the rest of the Nyuyinaro body.

“Alicia, hello,” said an artificially mild and even voice from her holocom. Magenta learned English with breathtaking speed, but the Nyuyinaro lacked vocal organs. Their ability to generate all manner of signals more than made up for it. “I hope I have come at a good time.”

“You can come anytime you want.” Alicia’s minders had made that more than a permission; it was a condition on her entire life now. She didn’t hold it against Magenta. “I’m always happy to see you.”

“Did I arrive during your resting cycle? Sleep?”

“Nah. Not yet. You gave me an excuse to get out of something. It was good timing.”

“What did I excuse?” Magenta’s head twitched in curiosity. By now, they had separated from every bird association people attached to the Nyuyinaro except that one gesture.

“The highest-ranking student was, um, testing the rest of us,” Alicia said carefully. She didn’t want to get bogged down in explaining academy life and leadership dynamics, especially poor leadership dynamics.

“This concept of rank is still strange. We have nothing like it.”

“That sounds nice.”

“You are here to advance your rank, correct? Do you not want this?” asked Magenta.

“I can see how life might be better without the whole thing, but we have it, so yes. I’m here to advance my rank.”

“Why?”

Alicia bit her lip. “Lots of reasons. Some are financial—money stuff. Let’s not talk about that again. Mostly I’m here for the challenge. I told you I used to compete as an athlete. It’s a little like that.”

“Yes. You said you left such competition because it did not feel ‘real.’ Is this more real?”

“Hah. Um.” Alicia set aside Hartmann’s posturing downstairs. “This prepares for the real thing. It’s teaching and training.”

“Yes. We have discussed this. You train to do more of what you have already done. That was real, correct? It felt real?”

“It was,” said Alicia. “It’s… athletics was real, too, but I felt like it only mattered in its little bubble. Within a narrow interest,” she corrected. Magenta was still learning idioms. “I don’t mean to put it down. I got to a point where I wanted to do more for other people. I wanted to help others. And I’m competitive, and want to achieve…” Alicia shrugged. “There are lots of ways to help people. The military is my way. I can protect people. I can stop bad things.”

“You protected your people in your Debtor’s War,” said Magenta. “You protected humans on Minos. You saved Scar.”

“Yes.” Alicia flashed a smile, and also blinked back a sudden tear. The first Nyuyinaro she’d ever met still weighed heavily, even if it was a happy weight. “Not everyone can do those things. I can, so I like doing it. There are downsides. I don’t like hurting people, I don’t like losing people, but… I like protecting, and I like being good at this. Does that make sense?”

The yellow hues in Magenta’s radiance faded, replaced by deeper greens and blues. The magenta turned red. “I was born after our war with the People of Dust. With Minos. I know it from the songs of others. I know it from those who survived.

“My people are afraid.”

“I’m supposed to ask about that,” Alicia ventured. “About your people, and the Krokinthians, and what you’re doing about the Minoans.”

“The People of Dust are ready for us. We cannot approach their world without great risk. The Krokinthians have lost several vessels in the attempt. We do not know what to do. Alicia, they are a threat to humanity, too.”

“I know,” she answered. “I believe that. But so far, they have only wanted their own world back from us. We didn’t know they were there. I think if things had gone differently, we’d have fought over it… but now that we have left Minos, the Union hopes the fight ends there. They have their space. We have ours. The Union doesn’t want another war with aliens, for a lot of reasons. As long as they stay there, we don’t have to fight.”

“Alicia, what if they are already here?”