A World Too Far (Terran Trilogy Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  The Ship

  Copyright

  Discover Other Books

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Meet the Author and her books

  A World Too Far

  The Terran Trilogy: Book 1

  By

  Sheron Wood McCartha

  Digital Imagination Publishing

  Beaverton, Oregon

  USA

  The Ship

  

  Copyright ©2016 by Sheron Wood McCartha

  A World Too Far

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, digital, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, re-cording, or otherwise, or conveyed via the internet or a Web site without prior permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotes embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, or events in this novel are inventions of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  Cover art by Toni Boudreault

  ISBN 978-0-9978274-0-8

  Published by Digital Imagination Publishing

  Beaverton, Oregon

  Discover other books by Sheron McCartha

  in the

  THE ALYSIAN UNIVERSE SERIES

  Caught in Time

  A Dangerous Talent for Time

  Cosmic Entanglement

  Past the Event Horizon

  Space Song

  Touching Crystal

  Someone's Clone

  Time's Equation

  Chapter 1

  A Cold Bed

  Life slapped her to consciousness. Hands grabbed at her, pulling her up. Cold, moist air blasted around her as she opened blurry eyes, and a face swam across her vision.

  Gaunt of cheek, eyes filled with anxiety, rimmed by dark circles caused by sleepless nights, the unfamiliar face did not present a comforting sight.

  She forced herself to a sitting position, muscles screaming in pain from long disuse.

  “Captain Fujeint.” The man lightly touched her arm and offered her a small thermos of hot liquid. A young woman hovered in the background with a towel.

  His words triggered a flood of memories. The National Aeronautics and Space Administration’s extensive program for astronauts, selection to the crew, appointment as final ship’s captain, a cold bed.

  “Are we approaching the target planet?”

  A troubled look flitted across his face as he placed a robe on the edge of her cryo unit and gestured for her to finish the drink. She noticed the captain’s tags on his shoulders as he searched for words to explain.

  “Our original target has become uninhabitable.” He heaved a sigh. “An unstable magnetosphere let the atmosphere dissipate after we first measured it from Earth.” He twitched or shrugged; she wasn't sure which. “Several ships landed, anyway, but it proved disastrous. Few survived the harsh radiation. They tried to tunnel underground, but that turned out to be a bad solution. The first landing force lost more than half their colonists within a month. Those remaining in orbit decided to continue the search. But then, disagreements arose as to which direction to take.”

  Pausing, he peered off into a distant past and then turned bleak eyes on her. “People on the ship became violent over the selections, and some encounters ended badly.” His voice shaky, he added, “Protests spread across the whole fleet.”

  “The whole fleet?”

  “Yes, onboard, those that disagreed with the Commander’s choice rioted. The New Found Hope lost many in the aftermath, captain and helm included.”

  “Now how was that smart?” She slumped back down, feeling the cold seep onto her back and around her shoulders. She swallowed the rest of the drink. Its warmth offered her scant energy. In seconds, the cold from the unit started her shivering. “So, who's in charge?” She eyed the robe but didn't yet have the stamina to stand up and dress.

  A tone of apology crept into his voice. “There's a debate about that, too.”

  “A debate?” She rubbed her face. “You’re the captain…”

  “I wasn’t trained for this position. It’s been difficult for me.” His shoulders slumped. “That’s why we’re pulling you out now. To take over.”

  Handing him the thermos, she eyed the robe and imagined its warmth. “Any current arguments?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.” He delicately placed the thermos on a ledge. “I need to get you out. You’re shivering.” He offered his hand.

  She gestured him back. With a heave, she pulled herself forward and shakily stood up as the girl leaped to her side with the thick towel. Grabbing the towel from the girl, she vigorously wiped down her chilled, naked body and dried her short auburn hair, ignoring the captain’s uncomfortable stare.

  After she stepped out, he flung the robe around her shoulders and flushed the unit.

  “Who's on the bridge now?” she asked.

  “Me and four others.” He hugged his arms across his chest. “I'm just an administrator, not a trained pilot. These captain tags are temporary. The former captain and helm are dead, but the worst is...”

  “Worst?” She put on the robe, jerked around and yanked on the sash; her body, still weak, protested. Canting her head, she frowned at him. “There's more?”

  He stepped back from her anger. “To get away from the fight, to save the ship from damage, we activated the FTL jump ... only the bridge didn't know how to operate it properly or where to head.”

  “And?” She didn’t want to hear the rest, but she’d learn it sooner or later. She always found that sooner was better, no matter how dire the news.

  He put up his hands in apology. “Thirty-nine ships went through jump with us. But we’re lost, most likely in the Milky Way, but we’re not sure.”

  “No one has any idea where we are?”

  “Charles Dance, the captain of the Explorer, says he might, but he's fresh out of cryo and doesn’t have a handle on the situation yet.” His voice trailed off. He pushed a button, closing the unit, and pointed to a stack of clothes folded on a shelf above her.

  She shut her eyes to block out this reality, a futile act that changed nothing. She opened them. “So what's the overall situation across the fleet?”

  His tone turned rough. “People are mad about the situation. They’d hoped to colonize, and now, they might never step foot on a planet again.”

  “I don’t blame t
hem. I'm furious, and I don't even know the idiots that did this.”

  “Some of them were power hungry asses.” He looked away. “Some of them just asses.”

  “So where are they now?” She nodded to the clothes, watching as the girl carefully picked out a navy shirt with gold trim at its collar and cuffs, and handed it to her—a captain’s uniform.

  “We beheaded the dissenters, and spaced them.”

  She almost dropped the top as she imagined the bloodbath. Swallowing hard, she gaped at him.

  With a shrug, he said, “We were angry at the loss. Just spacing them felt too clean. We wanted to make a clear statement to discourage future acts.”

  Her mouth moved, but she couldn’t think of what to say, she was so horrified.

  “Mandy will help you get dressed while you think things over. Louise will bring you a hot meal, give you time to recover, and then...” He edged toward the door. “I'll take you to the bridge.”

  Swinging around, she glared at Mandy who raised up dainty underwear in self-defense. She grabbed them from the girl’s trembling hands.

  Nothing was what she’d expected.

  Chapter 2

  A Meet and Greet

  “Captain on the bridge.”

  She wanted to be the captain who led her ship to a new world, to find her people a planet lush with promise, and offer humans an alternative home. Instead of newfound hope, like her ship’s name, she woke to fear and despair.

  A bridge packed full of bright, blinking lights made her head swim and contrasted sharply against the cool, dark silence she’d come from. She stumbled briefly due to the intense sensory input and struggled to regain equilibrium. Next to her, an escort reached out a steadying hand, which she waved away, and instead yanked down on the navy blue top with gold collar and cuffs. She needed to act like a captain, or she would be lost before she’d even begun. Taking a deep breath, she made a quick study of faces, knowing mere seconds remained in which to catch initial expressions and analyze them before they realized who had entered the bridge.

  Three bodies swung around in surprise at the announcement. The fourth punched a button on his board and turned sedately about as if expecting her.

  How young they looked!

  After a quick scan, she started on her left at the helm’s station, noting the short, muscular body, and dark hair. A bit of Asian heritage displayed in the slanted eyes. His surprised expression indicated that he had not expected her. The tight set of his mouth and narrowing of his eyes warned her of possible trouble. Some people didn’t like change. Some didn’t like authority. She wondered what his story was.

  Next to him at navigation, stood a slender, blond-haired male. She recognized a Nordic background in the pale skin, narrow forehead and square jaw. His ice blue eyes, wide at first, narrowed in contemplation as he eyed her gold cuffs and collar.

  A slim female stood at the communications station to his right. Astonishing curly red hair framed a face with spring green eyes that flashed as they evaluated her. A female on the bridge at the critical comm station was certainly a plus in this screwed-up situation. It made a statement about gender attitudes on board the ship, hopefully a willingness to follow a female captain. The girl wrinkled her freckle-dusted nose, puzzled at her presence.

  The last crew member smiled a lopsided, but friendly, smile of welcome. She concluded that he was not surprised at her resuscitation and, in fact, welcomed it. His brown hair was pulled tightly back into a shoulder length ponytail. Dusky skin and wide cheek bones suggested an African ancestry somewhere. His relaxed body language and neutral expression indicated possible foreknowledge of her revival.

  As each member of the bridge noticed the gold collar and cuffs, they stiffened. The unsurprised fellow saluted, setting the example for the others who followed a beat later.

  She returned a nod and mustered her best captain’s smile. “I'm Elise Fujeint, recently revived from cryo and soon captain of this ship. My first order of business is to learn your names and positions. I’ll start with you.”

  She turned to her gaunt escort who startled at her words. Awareness of his lapse spread across his pale face. He ran a hand through lank hair, which thinned at top. His first words stuttered out, but he recovered his poise soon enough. “I'm, I’m T… Tom Lipford, temporary captain of The New Found Hope. I apologize for not introducing myself earlier.”

  “It’s nice to have a name with the face.” She raised an eyebrow and turned to the glowering helm.

  With a pronounced frown, he responded, “Chay T’Sang. I sit helm.” The clipped words and aggressive tone sounded borderline belligerent. He glanced at the next in line as he wiped sweat-dampened palms down dark blue slacks.

  Taking his cue, the next in line said, “Welcome to the bridge. I'm Jensen Dane, the astrogator.” A blond head nodded at her as his hair flopped forward toward a narrow nose that dominated his face. Then he stared straight ahead, having given his name.

  With pursed lips, the young girl standing next to him answered, “I'm Jazz Espirito, the communications officer.” As she pushed a lock of fiery red hair off her brow, she revealed a butterfly tattoo at her wrist. Finished, she turned to the crewmember on her left.

  His posture straightened. “Last, but I hope not least, I'm Tango Jones, flight engineer.” A wide grin accompanied the introduction. He brushed at escaping strands of hair, causing her to notice delicate fingers.

  She let a pause settle in, as she looked them all over. After a beat, she said, “I need to get up to speed on the current situation.” She eyed the uneasy Captain Lipford, who chewed an inside cheek and gazed off into the distance.

  “I want each of you to prepare a summary of your position and your skills. Add comments on what you consider the ship’s problems and offer solutions but keep it brief. I’ll meet with you individually in my quarters across the next two shifts.” She offered a brief nod and was gratified to see each one acknowledge her. She whirled around, grew dizzy with the effort, but steadied herself on the doorframe, and strode away.

  Captain Lipford struggled after her.

  She slowed as she reached a corridor intersection. Turning, she said, “That went well.”

  He flapped a hand. “A good beginning.”

  “Are you certain that you want to step down?”

  “Yes.” He fingered the gold captain tags on his shoulder and started to undo them.

  “Wait on that.” She tapped his arm. I need to find my quarters and get settled first.”

  “I want Dr. Luttrell to check you out and make sure you’ve suffered no ill effects from cryo. You’ll need post cryo meds and shots. Sometimes…”

  “John Luttrell is out of cryo!” She whirled on him.

  Surprised, he nodded. “We pulled him out prematurely after the riots began. We needed someone to organize the infirmary.” He adjusted his collar and offered an apologetic grin. “The current medical staff became overwhelmed.”

  So, John was awake and in charge of the medical side of things. Her heart beat faster as she picked up the pace. Why did her life keep getting more and more complicated?

  Chapter 3

  Dr. John Luttrell

  “Elise. Elise, it’s John. Let me in.”

  In her quarters, Elise put down the report she’d been reading and sighed. She clicked on her outside monitor and saw John Luttrell as he paced back and forth outside her office entrance. He combed a hand through hair the color of toasted almonds, paused to look around, and then tapped his fingers on her door panel. Peering at the small camera mounted outside, his sapphire blue eyes blinked at her. He stepped back and tugged at his collar. “Captain Fujeint, we need to talk.”

  A small smile quirked the corners of her mouth. Captain, indeed. She pushed a button and the panel slid open.

  John staggered forward, practically falling into her office. “He got you out! Thank the stars. I didn’t think that excuse of a captain had the spine for it.”

  Yes, here was John. He hadn’t
changed in more than a hundred years. All her memories of them training together at NASA poured through her head. They’d endured grueling days of preparation, but the passionate nights more than made up for it. She motioned him to a chair in front of her desk, but he kept pacing back and forth, waving his arms about and ranting.

  No, he hadn’t changed a bit.

  “John, sit down!” She pushed all the authority she could manage into the command and held her breath, so she wouldn’t burst out laughing for the pure joy of seeing him full of life before her.

  “What? Oh, okay.” He slid his long, lanky form into the chair and leaned forward hands on his chin. He studied her, his eyes devouring her face. “As beautiful as ever.”

  She raised both eyebrows.

  “You have the most amazing violet eyes and dark, thick lashes. I could stare at your exquisite perfect face for ages.”

  “Well, don’t. You make me nervous.”

  He returned his famous boyish grin, winner of all hearts female, hers no exception. The expression fell apart as worry resurfaced. Rubbing his face, he sat back. “I know. We can’t waste time. The ship’s in trouble.”

  She grimaced. “So I’ve been informed. They picked a hell of a time to bring me out of cryo. I hope this isn’t your doing.” She leaned back, her eyes flicked over the stack of reports her bridge crew had submitted. Those had led to requests for reports from other sections and more personal interviews. So far, it hadn’t added up to a pretty picture.

  “Tell me what I should do to save the ship.” She fingered the edge of a report she’d just finished.

  His eyes widened. “You think I have the answers?”

  “You have never lacked for opinions, John Luttrell…and now you’re in my office after pounding on my door. I suspect you have something you want to say. Tell me I’m wrong.”

  He sat up, gathering himself. “Elise...”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped the gold cuffs that denoted her new status.