Authors: Jeremy Robinson
BENEATH - A Novel (46 page)
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Three months later, Connelly woke. A nightmare of constriction held her in place. Recalling the events that brought her to this point was difficult…almost impossible. She remembered Europa and the Europhids. She remembered their near death escape. Worst of all, she remembered her body being controlled by an outside force, while all she could do was watch.
But the darkness that consumed her was all enveloping, physically pressing on her on all sides. It reminded her of the time she spent within the wall of blue Europhids, how they had swallowed her whole and entered her mind. A pang of concern swept through her as she thought she might still be in the wall, that the last events she remembered were all an illusion created by the Europhids.
The pressure loosened around her. She had room to move, and instinctively pushed forward. A thickness slid off her body and she pulled herself from the viscous womb. The outer skin popped and Connelly slid out, falling on to a cold, hard surface. She opened her eyes, of her own volition, and took in her surroundings.
She was in her quarters still on board Surveyor. The last minutes of her time spent in orbit around Jupiter returned, fresh in her mind. The Europhids had erased all physical evidence that they or any life existed on Europa, and they'd used the crew to do it.
Rather than focus on past events, Connelly turned her thoughts to the future. A pulse of hope beat harder and harder inside her chest as she realized how desperately she missed Earth—the blue oceans, the golden deserts, the abundant life that only occasionally posed a threat to people.
Connelly climbed to her feet, shivering and dripping gel. Her body cried out for a warm shower, but she had to make sure her high hopes were justified. She found the remote control and pushed the single button that rendered the out wall clear. The skin of the wall turned milky white and slowly, steadily became as transparent as water. Glowing brightly below was Earth, hanging in space like a dazzling oasis.
They were home.
Connelly placed her hands on the clear wall. It shimmered under her touch. Tears filled her eyes for just a moment…until she realized she was standing stark naked in front of a very large window on a spacecraft that every space enthusiast with a telescope was probably watching like a horde of hawks. She covered herself and ducked back away from the window. Rather than return the wall to its opaque state, she headed into the bathroom and ran the shower.
Twenty minutes later Connelly was free of gel. She quickly toweled off and dressed in a blue jumpsuit. Somehow, being so close to Earth made the fabric feel softer and warm. She smiled at the comfort.
A familiar knock at the door drew her attention from the bathroom. "Come on in, Robert."
The door whooshed open and Robert stepped in, dressed in a tan jumpsuit. His hair was neat and his beard newly trimmed. He'd spent some extra time in the bathroom.
Probably trying to impress me
, Connelly thought with a smile.
"How'd you know it was me?" Robert asked.
"You knocked on my door just like that before dinner back at Europa."
"I, ahh, I did?" Robert scratched his neat head of hair, messing it up. "I don't even remember dinner…. Must be a side effect of the impact chairs."
Connelly expected Robert to greet her with a hug, or a kiss if he was still feeling bold, but he strolled right past her and admired the view. She followed him to the window, feeling much more secure now that she was fully clothed. "Didn't happen on the way out," she said.
"Maybe they were effected by the solar storms," Robert said. "God, it's beautiful from up here."
"What did you say?"
Robert looked at her. "The Earth…it's beautiful."
"Not that."
"What? The solar storms?
We're lucky they didn't strand us on that lifeless ice ball."
Connelly just stared into Robert's eyes. In that instant she knew that the rewrite of history the Europhids had performed on the collected data and logs had been duplicated in the crew's memories as well. The fact that her memories remained intact must be the gift—or curse—mentioned by the blue Europhids. It was an expression of trust that Connelly would never share the story with humanity.
"You okay?" Robert asked. "You look...stunned."
Connelly shook her head. "Just still shaking off the fog of sleeping for so long." She turned her eyes back to the bright blue orb spinning slowly in front of them. A sudden sadness struck her. Robert remembered
nothing
of their trip. He had no recollection of what they had survived together and the feelings they had unearthed. In fact, he hadn't commented on her now blue eyes, meaning the Europhids had altered his memory going back years.
Her new, blue eyes were old hat. The emotional dread dissipated slightly when she came to the conclusion that the events they had experienced merely brought their feelings for each other out. It wasn't the impetus of their affection, just the release.
"Robert?" Connelly said, turning towards him.
"Yup?" Robert's voice was relaxed and jovial. He adjusted his glasses and looked into her eyes.
She kissed him hard on the lips.
After being released, Robert physically stammered backward. "What…ahh, what?"
"I've wanted to do that since our time on Orca One." Connelly took his hands.
"But…how…" Robert's breath escaped him and his shoulders fell slack. A smile crept onto his face. "I…me too."
It was Connelly's turn to smile. "I knew you did."
"But—"
"Robert," Connelly pulled him close so that their bodies were flush against each other and hugged him tight.
Wrapping her arms around Robert made her trip home complete. The crew had escaped with no permanent damage. No one remembered what had happened or what they had discovered. The human race would have no idea the Europhids existed and both species would be better off because of it.
As Connelly felt her muscles loosen within Robert's embrace, she thought about how she had grown, how her opinions had been so radically challenged and changed by their voyage. In all her years exploring for new life forms—in Earth's oceans, in
want
to be found. They had lifted the proverbial stone concealing the angry snake and it was only the mercy of the blue Europhids that saved them. But now she knew better…and would teach humanity to know better. After all, how would humans have reacted if the tides were turned, if it was the Europhids who came to Earth?
Robert broke from their embrace and said, "Have I ever told you how beautiful your blue eyes are?"
Connelly smiled. "Not once."
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
JEREMY ROBINSON is the author of six previous thrillers including
Pulse
and
Instinct
, the first two books in his exciting Chess Team series. His novels have been translated into eight languages. He lives in
Connect with Robinson online:
Twitter:
www.twitter.com/jrobinsonauthor
Myspace:
www.myspace.com/sciencethriller
Facebook:
www.facebook.com/sciencethriller
Website:
www.jeremyrobinsononline.com
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Dear reader,
Thank you so much for taking the time to read this special release of my only unpublished novel, BENEATH. If you're wondering why the book hasn't been published, the answer is simple. It's science fiction. Unfortunately, sci-fi doesn't sell as much as thrillers and my publisher feared that a sci-fi book would hurt sales figures and prompt booksellers to order less of my future books. The silver lining is that I now get to bring BENEATH to you on my own, for a very low price!
If you enjoyed BENEATH, please check out my new books from Thomas Dunne Books/St. Martin's Press. They are my newest, best and most exciting books to date. Exclusive samples are available on the following pages. Keep in mind that these samples are uncorrected proofs, so please forgive any typos.
Thanks for reading!
-- Jeremy Robinson
Don't miss this exclusive,
uncorrected
, sample of PULSE, the first book in Robinson's Chess Team series:
Prologue
Nazca
Hundreds of feet pounded the dry soil, filling the air with the ominous sound of soldiers on the march. But these were not soldiers. They were followers, worshipers of the man whose strange ship had landed on the lush Peruvian shore only a week before, the man who now led them on a trek away from their fertile homeland and across the arid, lifeless Nazca plains.
He marched without cease, without pause for food, water or rest. With each merciless day their numbers dwindled. The women and children turned back first as hunger and responsibility to their kin overruled their desire to worship the visiting deity. The men who continued following the silent stranger fought against their parched throats and scorched feet, determined to see where the giant would lead. One by one, the weakest men fell to the hard packed, roiling hot sand and died slowly under the blistering gaze of the sun.
When the man finally stopped in the shade of a tall hill he turned and cast a cool gaze at the remaining twenty three men—all that remained of the one hundred thirty-seven who'd begun the journey alongside them. They were the strongest and bravest of the tribe, surely worthy of whatever honors the man-god would bestow.
Without a word the giant man removed the lion skin that covered his head and back, pulling the intact beast's head up and away from his own. His sweat dampened, curly black hair clung to his forehead, but the man paid it no heed. Nor did he wipe away the beads of sweat rolling into his dark brown eyes and into the heavily scabbed gashes running across his chest, back and legs.
When the giant first arrived on the sandy shore of their village, his resistance to the deep wounds coupled with his tall, 6'5" height—towering more than a foot above the tallest man in the tribe—had convinced the native Nazcans of his god-hood. The mysterious lion skin that covered his head and back told them he had journeyed from the land of the gods. The club he carried, stained dark with old blood showed him to be a warrior worthy of respect and awe. But the blood soaked, woven sack he carried, which wriggled and twisted in his hands and filled the air with a strong copper flavor, revealed he guarded the remains of some ancient evil. At first glance, the size of the object held within the sack made many think he had killed a large boar, but the copious amount of blood constantly dripping from the still moving body within convinced them otherwise. Nothing mortal could survive so much blood loss.
The giant man knelt and plunged a finger into the hard earth. The small stones and sand that made up the surface of the plains slid away as he outlined a pattern with his finger. After finishing, the man stood again, met the eyes of the men still standing and waved his hands out over the flat plain at the base of the hill. He then pointed to the central aspect of his drawing, then to a large stone, fifty feet away. The side facing away from the hill looked flat and stood more than ten feet tall and just as wide, but the back side curved out like a boulder. It stood on its edge where the flat side met the rounded, balanced precariously. To the men it looked like a gnarled, giant melon that had been halved and discarded eons ago by some ancient god.
The men understood. The strange stone would be the central head of the unearthly creature the man-god had drawn. As the sun set, the men worked in the cooling air. As night came, they labored under torch and moonlight and fought against the frigid, desert air, desperate for food and water, but craving to please the man-god. By morning the oversized reproduction of the giant's drawing was complete. From top to bottom it measured five hundred feet; from side to side, three hundred feet. The light brown lines of the drawing stood in stark contrast to the dark pebbly skin of the plains, making the massive illustration truly magnificent.
The men staggered under the fresh blazing sun as it sapped the rest of their strength and sucked the remaining moisture from their bodies. With each drop of blood from their raw hands, their lives ebbed further away. Each man knew his life would end in the desert, but they fought the urge to flee, believing that the man-god would reward them for their faithful service. They staggered as a group, dazed and bewildered, towards the head of their drawing where the giant waited.