Tag Archives: Science fiction

Observer Virtual Book Tour

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Science Fiction

Date Published: 01-10-2023

Publisher: Story Plant

 

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If we can alter the structure of reality, should we?

Caro Soames-Watkins, a talented neurosurgeon whose career has been upended
by controversy, is jobless, broke, and the sole supporter of her sister, a
single mother with a severely disabled child.

When she receives a strange job offer from Nobel Prize-winning scientist
Sam Watkins, a great uncle she barely knows, desperation forces her to take
it in spite of serious suspicions.

Watkins has built a mysterious medical facility in the Caribbean to conduct
research into the nature of consciousness, reality, and life after death.
Helped in his mission by his old friend, eminent physicist George Weigert,
and young tech entrepreneur Julian Dey, Sam has gone far beyond curing the
body to develop a technology that could solve the riddle of mortality.

Two obstacles stand in their way: someone on the inside is leaking intel
and Watkins’ failing body must last long enough for the technology to be
ready.

As danger mounts, Caro finds more than she bargained for, including murder,
love, and a deeper understanding into the nature of reality.

A mind-expanding journey to the very edges of science, Observer will thrill
you, inspire you, and lead you to think about life and the power of the
imagination in startling new ways.

 

Editorial Reviews

“Nancy Kress is one of the greatest living science fiction writers,
and her particular talent for telling stories about people on the cutting
edge of science tipping into something new and marvelous is perfectly suited
to the ideas that have come to Robert Lanza in the course of his
groundbreaking scientific research.  Together they’ve written a
startling, fascinating novel.”

―Kim Stanley Robinson, New York Times bestselling author

“Robert Lanza has taken the gigantic step of incorporating his ideas
into a science fiction novel with Nancy Kress. This brilliant book will take
you deep into quantum physics, where these often-complex concepts are
illuminated through a riveting and moving story.”

―Rhonda Byrne, #1 New York Times bestselling author, The Secret

“Real science and limitless imagination combine in a thrilling story
you won’t soon forget.”

―Robin Cook, #1 New York Times bestselling author

“Nancy Kress is a master storyteller, and her trademark empathy is on
every page. Even as we venture into the heady territory of quantum physics
and the nature of reality that Robert Lanza is known for, we never lose
track of Caro, the brilliant surgeon who’ll do anything to save the people
she loves. Observer is the best of science and fiction—an intellectual
adventure with real heart.”

―Daryl Gregory, award-winning author of Spoonbenders

“Observer is an impressive story! … Lanza and Kress give us
characters with science and spirit”

―David Brin, New York Times bestselling author, The Postman

 

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 EXCERPT

By Robert Lanzay and Nancy Kress

No one wanted to tell the old man.
     James, head of household staff, wearing slippers and a flamboyant silk robe, had been among those alerted by the night-duty tech as soon as the police arrived.
     Julian had gone with the police to identify the body.
     Two of Julian’s security techs, sent to inform the old man of what had happened, looked expectantly at James.
     He tightened the belt of his robe and said, “I don’t see why we have to wake him at all. There’s nothing for Dr. Watkins to do. He’s old and very ill. Let him sleep.”
     The techs didn’t answer, but their glances at each other spoke terabytes: only someone not directly involved in the project would think that Dr. Watkins wouldn’t want to know instantly what had happened. But it was James who had the inspiration. “I know! Wake Dr. Weigert!”
     Weigert had not been called already because Julian had left strict instructions that Weigert was never to talk to island police. The two young techs suspected the reason was Weigert’s sometimes indiscreet openness. But now the police had gone. The techs nodded, and James phoned Weigert.
     He, too, arrived in slippers and robe, although his faded terry cloth looked older than all three young men. James explained in great detail what the police had told him. Weigert nodded slowly and knocked on the bedroom door.
     “What the— Oh, it’s you, George. What is it?”
     Weigert discovered that it wasn’t AC he’d heard through the door but a noisy space heater. The room was a sauna. Was that necessary for Sam’s condition? Weigert, a physicist rather than a physician, had no idea.
     “Sam, there’s been an accident.”
     Samuel Louis Watkins, genius Nobel Laureate, switched on the bedside lamp and heaved himself upright in bed. Cheekbones sharp as chisels, bald head shining in the lamplight. “What kind of accident? Are the data and equipment safe?”
     “Yes, they are. It’s a diving accident. David Weeks. He’s dead. Julian just left with the police to identify the body, but apparently there’s no doubt it’s Dr. Weeks.” Weigert, who had known Sam since their university days and who disliked confrontation, braced himself for a tsunami of expletives. Sam had told Weeks to cease diving. Not told: ordered.
     The tsunami didn’t come. Instead, Watkins adopted the intense, focused look that meant his remarkable brain was processing multiple ideas: imagining, synthesizing, evaluating. That brain had gotten them all here, in this remote island compound in the Caribbean, where Weigert, at least, had certainly never expected to be.
     Watkins said, “Damn idiot. I told him not to …”
     “Yes,” Weigert said, because what else was there to say?
     Watkins was silent for a long time. Weigert couldn’t tell from his old friend’s face if Sam was thinking of personal memories of David Weeks, brought into the project a year ago, or of the project itself, now short a crucial member whose loss could jeopardize everything. It had not been easy to find a neurosurgeon willing to perform the unusual operations that the project called for. When the silence stretched on and on, and then on some more, Weigert couldn’t stand it.
     “Sam, should I …”
     “You don’t have to do anything.” And then, “George, I’m running out of time.”
     Weigert, startled by the reference to what everyone knew but no one ever mentioned in Sam’s presence, didn’t know what to say. He settled on honesty. “I know.”
     “Of course you do. I’m sure everybody knows, right down to James’s kitchen help. All right, send for Haggerty.”
     “The lawyer?” Bill Haggerty, another old friend of Watkins, was the only one connected with the compound who lived not only off-site but off-island. All communication with him was through heavily encrypted email.
     “Yes. Tell him to come today.”
     “But today—”
     “Today.” And then, with a grimace on that disease-ravaged face, “Our project is too important to the future not to have thought of all eventualities. I have a Plan B.”

 

 

About the Authors

Robert Lanza, M.D.

Robert Lanza, M.D.

 

Named one of TIME magazine’s “100 Most Influential People,”
Robert Lanza is a renowned scientist and author whose groundbreaking
research spans many fields, from biology to theoretical physics. He has
worked with some of the greatest minds of our time, including Jonas Salk and
B.F. Skinner. A U.S. News and World Report cover story called him “the
living embodiment of the character played by Matt Damon in Good Will
Hunting” and described him as a “genius,” a “renegade
thinker,” and likened him to Einstein. He is the father of Biocentrism,
the basis of Observer, his first novel. He has been pondering the larger
existential questions since he was a young boy, when for play he took
excursions deep into the forests of eastern Massachusetts observing nature
(like Emerson and Thoreau, who grew up just a few miles from him).
This fascination with the nature of life infused his entire career, leading
him to the very frontiers of biology and science.

Nancy Kress

Nancy Kress

Hailed by bestselling author Kim Stanley Robinson as “one of the
greatest science fiction writers working today,” Nancy Kress has won
six Nebula and two Hugo Awards for her fiction. She often writes about
developments in science, particularly genetic engineering, as in her
bestselling novel, Beggars in Spain. Her work has been translated into over
a dozen languages, including Klingon. She teaches writing and was
“Fiction” columnist for Writer’s Digest magazine for sixteen
years. Nancy lives in Seattle with her husband, author Jack
Skillingstead.

 

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The Body Politic Teaser Tuesday

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Book II of The Tribal Wars

Science Fiction

Date Published: 1/8/2022

 

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BookLife Editor’s Pick

 

Brianna Miller returns to Dolvia where tribal women protest the oppressive
rule of Rabbenu Ely by self-torchings in the Cylay Square.  Brianna
re-establishes her tribal schools and takes on assistant Kelly Osborn who is
mixed blood and also a poet.

Kelly visits a neighboring planet Cicero where her aunt Carline Bryant
takes over her education. While returning to Dolvia, Kelly meets the
Australian adventurer Hershel Henry who has signed on for a tour of Dolvia
as a photo-journalist.  Henry takes an opportunity to interview the
khalif on the opposing side of the tribal wars.

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Book I of The Tribal Wars is AVAILABLE NOW!

Fantasy

Date Published: 10-08-2022

 

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BookLife Editor’s Pick

On Dolvia, Lt. Mike Shaw demands Dr. Greensboro’s doctoring skills at
the hospital, forcing the closure of her bush clinic. She witnesses forced
labor, forced migration, and the threat of an epidemic from bad water. She
sees how tribal women–often wearing burkas–find solutions for
saving the children in a conflict zone, and she commits to the their cause
for Home Rule.

Brianna Miller is an isolated girl–a mixed-blood orphan–among
the Dolviet tribes. With the lessons from Dr. Greensboro, the abuse from
soldiers, the sisterhood among victims, Brianna prepares for a future she
will choose for herself. But first she must travel offworld.

FREE FOR A LIMITED TIME – 12/27 – 1/16

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Excerpt from The Body Politic

We entered China through Xinjiang province and traversed the high Takli
Makan Desert overnight. In the morning, the train stood for several hours in
Dunhuang, changing personnel from Russian to Chinese and taking on supplies.
I watched from the window while porters in tunics and baggy pants loaded
goods from a cart. They stopped suddenly, and the noise subsided, so I
craned my neck to glimpse the source of the interruption. Some Blackshirts
were hustling a group of peasant families, tied together with ropes and
shuffling in obvious fear, across the tracks and down the causeway toward a
holding area. Laborers returned to their work with measured gestures,
careful not to attract unwanted attention, and the way closed behind the new
arrivals.

I told myself that this repression was not my problem; I was just passing
through.

Presently, a detachment of Russian soldiers wearing blue uniforms with red
tooling took up positions outside our VIP car at the end of the train. The
officer entered with authority and tucked his hat under one arm. Rufus stood
squarely in the aisle with his knees bent and a hand on his knife hilt. The
officer stopped.

After a moment, he looked past Rufus’s shoulder to me. “You are
Brianna Miller of Arim?” he asked in English. “We are
assigned.”

“I have security already, as you can see.”

“These, uh, warriors are included in our detail. The train now enters
a province with some, uh, social unrest. Daniel Chin is concerned that your
group experiences no, uh, in-con-ven-nience.” His hesitant words and
rounded accent made me think his English was newly learned, perhaps his
third language.

“Nu delaya,” I said, and Rufus relaxed his posture. Kyros
placed a big hand on the officer’s shoulder from behind and led him to
a seat several paces from me.

“What do you propose?” I asked.

“We will take the adjacent car and establish a presence around your
group.”

“The adjacent car is for the students.”

“They may have to move forward.”

“How many in your squad?”

“Twelve.”

“I cannot provide for twelve. Six only.”

“We brought provisions, and you will be glad for twelve before we
reach Beijing. I am Captain Chandliss, and you may direct any questions to
me.”

“Captain Chandliss, I assume you are Lithuanian by birth, and your
real name has two ‘z’s and three ‘k’s.”

He only smirked.

“Are the soldiers from your same province?” I asked.

“Most of them.”

“Why not provide a Han Chinese detachment to manage our
security?”

“My orders were brief,” he said as he twisted to see where
Kyros had stationed himself. “I gathered that your Dolviet escort
would resent Blackshirts as security.”

I grinned. At least he had the sense to acknowledge what anyone could see.
“And what else did Daniel Chin say in conversation?”

The captain didn’t react to the mention of Daniel Chin’s name.
“Orders from Paris didn’t mention a bevy of students. You do
have accommodations for them on the shuttle and the Company
yacht?”

“My arrangements are made,” I said tolerantly. “Thank you
for your interest. The students will remain where they are, and you will
take the next car. Since you have twelve men and provisions, I expect that
the students will remain as safe as I am safe.”

Captain Chandliss watched me for a moment. “Well. The train leaves in
twenty minutes, so I’ll excuse myself to put all in good order.”
He stood and nodded, unable to break military training. “Ah, how may I
address these warriors?”

“Rufus, the son of Cyrus the ketiwhelp killer,” I said with a
hand gesture. “And behind you is Kyros rabbe Sudl of Southeast
Arrivi.”

He nodded to each warrior. “Ma’am,” he said and
left.

Kyros looked at Rufus and mouthed “ma’am” with humor.
Rufus covered his mouth with one hand to hide his response.

 

# # #

 

Later, I was called into the student car, I assumed due to the presence of
soldiers. But the issue was trivial; something about a stolen item and whom
to punish. The boys waited in a silent row, cynical and without gestures.
The oldest girl Bernice was in tears, as were two eight-year-olds. I sighed,
regretting my decision to include them in my travel plans.

Leah approached with submissive gestures. “These ones need daily
lessons to keep their minds off homesickness. They need a common
goal.”

I immediately thought of an old method Hakulupe Le had used in the Somule
schools to bind students as a group, a method she had learned in prison, in
fact. I spoke to the group. “Not all of you will board the shuttle to
engage in space travel. I have accommodations for only seven, including the
boys, so I must choose who is most worthy. To make this choice, we will
devise a test. You will each share your history with the others, and at
track’s end in three days’ time, you will each write the
biographies of all the others, including the boys. After reading those
papers, I will decide who remains with the clutch and who will return to
their province. That is all.”

Leah quickly spoke. “May we have writing paper?”

“I will ask Captain Chandliss.”

“May we take our meals in the dining car?”

“What difference does that make?”

“Please.”

“Captain Chandliss manages your safety now. I’ll ask
him.”

“Thank you, Rularim. Thanks again.” Leah knew when to
flatter.

“I am not Rularim. I’m Brianna Miller.”

“We all thank you.”

“Yes, well. No more complaining and no crying.” I left before
she could make another request.

Less than an hour later, Captain Chandliss came into my car. Kyros stopped
him at the door but let him pass after a tense moment. “The students
want their meals in the dining car. I have no authority for
this.”

“Negotiate with the porters,” I instructed, “so the group
can take a meal after the other diners have left, twice a day. Ask for a set
menu with bland dishes because they have to board the shuttle soon. No
sweets from the dessert tray but maybe rice pudding for each.”

His posture emphasized his disbelief. “Do you understand the
expense?”

“Rufus will pay from the treasure of Kyle Rula.”

The disbelieving look on the captain’s face wandered to the warrior
who was seated at a laptop with his back to us. Rufus turned slowly to fix
me with a level stare. He opened the pouch at his belt and extracted a
single uncut emerald as big as my thumb knuckle and placed it next to me.
The gem was opaque with a sandpaper texture. Without glancing at the
captain, Rufus turned back to the computer screen.

I saw the eyes of Captain Chandliss grow large at the sight of the gem.
“Have it assayed at the next stop,” I said. “Then pay the
porters for their trouble and distribute the remainder among your
soldiers.”

The captain stood tall and looked at each of us, perhaps taking a moment to
assess the opportunity. “My detachment will bear the current expense.
I will have the gem appraised in Beijing where its value is far greater. I
will subtract a commission for our service with the students and return the
remainder to Rufus before your party boards the shuttle. We will take eight
percent.”

“Four percent,” I said.

“Six percent.”

“Four point five percent, and no gratuity.”

“Done.” The captain scooped up the gem and turned on his heel.
He left hurriedly, passing through the door that Kyros was holding open,
just as though he needed to escape before I changed my mind.

Kyros said, “Much is learned about a man when he resists
temptation.”

 

About the Author

Stella Atrium

Stella Atrium is an award-winning writer who presents otherworld stories
about female protagonists of diverse ethnicity who encounter obstacles
relatable to our lives today. How do women in a war zone gain voice in the
marketplace using the few tools available to women?

Stella Atrium teaches at university in addition to online writing courses.
She lives in Chicago, Illinois.

 

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Twitter: @SAtriumWrites

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The Children of Time Blitz

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The Children of Time Trilogy, Book One

Science fiction

 Published: July 18, 2014

 

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Trilogy story inspired by the verse of the holy bible (REVELATION 22:13):
“I am the Alpha and the Omega. There is no one before me, neither shall
there be after…”

 

Book 1 – The Children of Time

Book 2 – The Origin of Life

Book 3 – The Battle of Gods

LOGLINE: An insecure young man, in love with a mysterious classmate, who
reveals herself to be an alien willing to do anything to save her universe,
finds himself involved in a risky journey where he is the only one capable
of saving an alien princess from a mortal enemy.

What mysteries are hidden beyond the stars?

While most of the youngsters are concerned with faculty, friendships and
even girlfriends, Nicholas spends his hours with his head out of orbit;
literally. Making the course of Astronomy, he feels better among gaseous
bodies, supernova stars and black holes, dreaming in one day to unravel the
great enigmas of the Universe. Until a mysterious girl enters the classroom

And Nicholas discovers, excited, that he finds his own star.

Zara is her name, the one whose hair looks like rays of sun, the only one
capable of wringing the air – and the voice – of the young protagonist of
this story. And, against all possibilities, something arises between then.
But do not think that this is a teenage romance like so many that you have
read, because Zara, contrary to what Nícolas thinks, is not what it
seems. Coming from an unknown galaxy, she has a mission: To attract Nicholas
and take him to her planet, alive.

At any cost.

The success of her mission depends not only on her future, but on
everything she believes in … including the future of humanity. When the
truth appears, Nicholas is wrapped in a web of lies and intrigue that goes
beyond everything he dreamed of. Between telekinetic powers, time gaps, and
scientific data, space folds, revealing that the aliens we know are closer –
and more like us – than we imagine.

 

The Children of Time Series

The Children of Time Series

Book 1 – The Children of Time

Book 2 – The Origin of Life

Book 3 – The Battle of Gods

Available on Amazon

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 About the Author

Chaiene Santos

Original sci-fi, fantasy and horror writer with over Two Million Readings
on Wattpad. Chaiene Santos is a dental surgeon, Master in Dentistry, who
lives in the mountainous region of the State of Rio de Janeiro, where he
enjoys the nature, which also inspires him to create his stories.

The author has three passions in his life: writing, profession and family.
On this literary journey, he takes off from Brazil for international trade
with translated stories to English and Spanish on Wattpad and Amazon.
Chaiene’s goal is to write great adventure stories for a global
audience.

With more than 200 thousand followers on social networks, he also studies
scripts.

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Seven Beyond Blitz

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Science Fiction, Fantasy

Date Published: August 1, 2022

Publisher: Stella Atrium Writes

 

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Resident aliens have escaped a lost homeworld on a quest to find the New
Restingplace of the Dead. A blood feud follows them to a colony on Earth.
Can they avoid assassination and reach their destination before time runs
out

In this plot-driven journey story perfect for lovers of science fiction
fantasy, diverse companions protect Longists Dr. Meenins and Linda Deemer
from curious close encounter seekers while they manage a shared dreamscape
to bolster his memories of galactic travel. Will Dr. Meenins reconcile with
his nemesis David Shanklen? Can the Longists hide in plain sight on
Earth?

Seven Beyond tablet

 About the Author

Stella Atrium

Stella Atrium is an award-winning writer who presents otherworld stories
about female protagonists of diverse ethnicity who encounter obstacles
relatable to our lives today. How do women in a war zone gain voice in the
marketplace using the few tools available to women?

Stella Atrium teaches at university in addition to online writing courses.
She lives in Chicago, Illinois.

 

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Glitched Virtual Book Tour

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Science Fiction

Date Published: April 14, 2022

 

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Kashmira lived an ordinary life until an army of invaders sacked her city
and left her for dead. When she awakens, she discovers she is a glitch in a
virtual reality video game – destined only for deletion by the bots
that hunt her.
 

Dugan is a bitterly disgruntled engineer who played a pivotal role in the
creation of virtual reality games and the NPCs who inhabit them. Fired from
the company he helped found, he seeks only revenge.

In a chance encounter, Dugan sees in Kashmira a tool to sabotage the games
and avenge himself, and through him, Kashmira finds the help she desperately
needs. As they traverse the worlds of virtual reality and their friendship
deepens, it will take everything they have not only for her to win her
freedom and survive, but also to answer the fundamental question of what
“life” is.

 

Glitched tablet

EXCERPT

Chapter 3

A damp coolness brushed across her brow, and Kashmira murmured in comfort, slipping back into the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness.

Next thing she knew, pain stabbed her side and she was once again in the burning building. She woke up gasping, but a pair of hands, gentle but firm, pressed her down against the woven mat.

 When at last she came to, she was lying on her back as if glued there, hushed voices speaking over her, a dull ache at her side. It was an awakening different from the ones before, less foggy, and she had more distinct sensations of her body. And truth be told, it hurt.

“Ahhh,” Kashmira moaned weakly, opening her eyes bit by bit and biting her lower lip in agony. She moved her fingers to lightly touch the side of her lower belly and pulled away in pain. Her body was wrapped in linen, and she rolled her arm back to her side.

Eyes open, she stared at what appeared to be a ceiling made of dirt. Off in a corner, she detected a square of light partially illuminating the room she was in. A wooden ladder was propped against the wall, leading up through the square opening. Bundles of cloth lay in shadowy piles around her on the floor next to clay pots and bowls.

As Kashmira lay there, Baba’s face was the first to appear as she shuffled through her most recent memories. Tears poured out of her eyes and dribbled into her ears. A knot clenched in her chest as she sobbed.

Kashmira’s thoughts were interrupted when the sound of approaching footsteps grew louder and descended the ladder. She shut her eyes hurriedly and pretended to sleep. Who is this person?

A rhythmic thump, thump, thump followed by the clattering of bowls reached her ears. Shuffling feet edged closer to her, and she heard the swishing of cloth. Soon, the same hands patted her forehead and tugged at the bandages.

Kashmira winced.

“Cha. The troubled dreamer awakes,” croaked a voice, warm and husky like the rustling of dry leaves.

“Uhhh,” Kashmira groaned.

“Lie still. I’m only changing your bandages. The linen is soaked clean through,” the voice clucked. Kashmira’s lids fluttered open and she stared into the face of an older woman. 

The woman’s wrinkles etched themselves across her skin and her eyes, which were deep and honey brown. Her lips curved in the shape of a small smile, and her hands carried a bowl of strange-smelling paste.

Tossing aside the bloody bandages, the woman applied the paste with her bare hands, talking as she did so. “You were out for a while. We had a hard time getting you down here. You were losing so much blood, I worried you would not make it. Only days before, you were running a high fever and crying out in your sleep. But your cut was not deep. This poultice keeps the infection at bay.”

“Who is we?”

“Oh. Just me and Zahmud. He’s a clever boy, you know. It isn’t easy to steal or find the ingredients for the poultice, but somehow, he was able to get them. He was up and down the streets this past week.”

Past week? How long have I been out? Streets? What streets?

“What?! Where am I?” Kashmira asked as the woman wrapped fresh bandages around her.

“Underground. In Al Shebbat.”

“Al Shebbat?! Are we hiding?! The soldiers! They could still be here. They might be looking for us.” Kashmira gulped air in panic and tried to sit up.

“Quiet! Please, calm yourself.” The woman pushed her down, her eyebrows knit in guilt and worry. “I’m so sorry for upsetting you. Maybe you should take another draft of powdered poppy to help you sleep.”

“NO!” cried Kashmira, suddenly fearful of falling back into the wakeful slumber. “You’ve been drugging me?”

“I’m so sorry. So sorry,” the woman repeated, shaking her head in genuine sorrow. “I had to sedate you. Your pain would have been unbearable.”

Kashmira’s mind buzzed with questions, but she decided to ask the most pressing one. 

“Who are you?” she croaked.

“I am Aasfa,” the woman said. “And it looks like Zahmud has brought dinner.”

Kashmira craned her neck in the direction of the creaking ladder where a young man descended while clutching something wrapped in parchment. Skipping the last few rungs, he jumped to the bottom and handed the package to Aasfa. As he did so, his eyes caught sight of Kashmira. He blinked in surprise before narrowing them at her with suspicion.

“She wakes,” he said.

Aasfa unfolded the parchment and tossed the fish onto the frying pan, apologizing all the while. “Please forgive him. He is a little suspicious of everyone.”

Kashmira surveyed Zahmud in silence, guessing him to be about her age. His nose jutted out as if it had been broken before, and his sour mouth was carved into a frown.

While Aasfa seasoned and fried the fish, Zahmud busied himself by washing the used pots in a basin by the far wall with his back to her. But she sensed him watching her out of the corner of his eye. 

Aasfa diced the meat to serve along with cold flatbread. She handed a plate to Zahmud and carried another one over to Kashmira. Propping herself onto one elbow, Kashmira tried to take the plate with her other hand.

“No need. I feed you.” Aasfa spooned bits of the fish and bread into Kashmira’s mouth.

At first, her queasy stomach recoiled, but after a moment, Kashmira swallowed as fast as she could chew.

“Easy, don’t choke,” chuckled Aasfa lightly.

After she cleaned the entire plate, Kashmira was struck by a wave of fatigue. She supposed sitting up, talking, and thinking was hard work. But as she lay back down to digest, the pain from her wounds faded bit by bit and she grew sleepier by the minute.

The poppy seeds! She cursed as the drug numbed her senses. Where am I? Her thoughts echoed and sleep washed over her once more.

Through the days that followed, Kashmira slept and woke up only to eat and use the chamber pot. She lay awake a few minutes at a time, listening to what went on around her. Both her new companions came and went through the opening she figured led to the outside world, for it was bright or dark depending on the time of day or night. Her curiosity gnawed at her. What was beyond that tantalizing little square of light?

One day, Kashmira opened her groggy eyes and wiggled her fingertips, expecting to return to her slumber. But sleep did not come. She gingerly sat up and glanced around. The whole chamber was bathed in a soft yellow glow. Feeling her side, she found her wound closing nicely and the pain was low and dull.

“Aasfa probably lightened my dose,” she mused.

Mustering all her strength, she stumbled to her feet, placing one hand on the wall for balance. She paced around the small space to stretch her legs. After countless laps to prove to herself she would not keel over anytime soon, she hobbled slowly up the ladder. When she poked her head above the entrance, the heady odor of soil and greenery filled her nostrils. Grabbing the root of a tree for support, she hauled herself up onto the dirt and looked around. She gasped as she recognized where she was.

Above her were vines and flowers, gently fluttering in the breeze the same way they did on the day of the invasion. She sat there for a moment listening to the fountain’s song. Kashmira frowned. Was that the noise of market chatter? Standing up, she wandered to the archway, gazed out, and covered her mouth in shock. Her movements strained her wound, but her pain was completely forgotten in her confusion.

“But how?!” Kashmira’s heart thumped as she peered out. The market was exactly the way it was before with the same bustling pace. Peddlers spread their wares on rugs. Wealthier merchants set up awnings over tables of glimmering copper pans and silver teapots. Chickens clucked in cages beneath tents while men haggled and women hunted for groceries.

She blinked and blinked, but the scene before her did not disappear. The spires and minarets of Al Shebbat pierced the clear skies above her head. She left the archway behind and emerged into the street. Sure enough, the city was still there. 

“It’s probably just another dream.” Kashmira walked the streets, past bathhouses exhaling steam and mosques with their gold-leafed doors, until she stood before the familiar space she called home.

She was unsure what she expected to see. Blackened ruins?

But no. Kashmira’s lungs tightened at the sight of a raven-haired girl with olive skin pouring coffee from a silver teapot. As if sensing Kashmira’s eyes on her, the girl straightened and stared back. For a moment, both froze. Then, pointing a bewildered finger at her, the girl called with a slight quiver in her voice, “Baba, come here. Please.”

“Kashmira, what is it?” The gruff voice nearly made her knees buckle. A mustached man came out of his kitchen and paused.

Baba did a double take and rubbed his eyes.

“She…” said the girl, “looks…like me.”

By then, the other guests of the coffeehouse had stopped to see what all the fuss was about. Murmurs and whispers spread through the room. Even the neighbors heard the commotion and craned their necks to see.

“I didn’t know your wife had twins, Mussef.”

“Who is that girl?! She looks just like your Kashmira!”

“Coincidence?”

“The daughter of a long-lost cousin of your wife? But it can’t be. You don’t have other relatives here, do you?”

Kashmira turned and ran.

 

About the Author

Tiffany writes science fiction to explore the ways technology shapes our
view of ourselves. Born and raised in Houston, Texas, she bumped shoulders
with diverse folks from all walks of life who inspire her characters. She
incorporates her experience working in the aerospace and tech industry into
her storytelling. She is now based in Austin, Texas.

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