Sunday, March 6, 2011

A Sample Sunday post from Book 1 of the Infinion Series, Regression

Journal of Doctor Nicholas Weaver
September 21, 98 P. I.                   

It is so incredibly frustrating to know I was born just a little too late. Ten years earlier, even five years sooner, and I could have turned the tide or made someone listen. Because of my birth date, each timeline greets me with only months to spare before living Impact over again. First Adya dies, and with her any chance of Hope. Then, watching the panic, the famine, the pestilence. I do what I can to ease their suffering but I must do more. I must prevent it. This is what drives me, what has sustained me through a thousand years where I have relived the horrors repeatedly. But I grow weary with the effort. 



Sample Sunday - excerpt, fresh off the keyboard, from Revolussion, Book 3 of the Infinion Trilogy

Warning, contains spoilers for the first two books! If you have not read Regression or Evolussion, some of the content here will key you in to concepts from those books. Or, perhaps, will make you interested in reading them!

Excerpt from Revolussion

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 Nicholas Weaver watched the rise and fall of the slender shoulders on the woman sleeping beside him.
Hope.
Eleven lifetimes of searching for her had not prepared him for what he would find. Some echo of her own love for him persisted across time because although she had not known exactly who he was, she had known what he was to her. Lover. Friend. Soul mate. Whatever one called it, their connection had transcended the realities and lifetimes which had separated them. Their reunion had played out in his mind a million different ways before he finally met her, ranging from introducing himself to her as a child to watching in the wings while she approached adulthood, but never had he figured on the plasmid accelerating her growth. That had not happened in the original timeline.
A lot of things had not happened in the original timeline. He found himself uneasy, in spite of the fact that the changes might save the world. Past lifetimes had been predictable. Disastrous, but predictable, and a horror for which one is prepared is more manageable than a horror one does not expect. What would the Effigee do to the plumans? Including Hope. Including their soon to be born child.
Hope rolled onto her back, revealing the curve of her abdomen where only weeks ago she was flat. He slid his hand under the blanket and caressed her midriff. A wave of movement under his palm filled him with wonder. Knowing that whatever happened from here on in was unscripted, uncharted territory was unnerving, but here in his hands was all the motivation he needed to accept the changed reality.
“He’s really pushing on me today. I have to go to the bathroom again.” Hope rolled to the side of the bed and pushed her feet into the slippers he had set out for her the night before. “I can’t imagine how it must feel to have this much pressure for months on end!”
Her pregnancy was advancing at ten times the normal rate, due to the action of the plasmid. All around them, plumans were getting pregnant and giving birth within weeks. Dawn had explained her gestation for the first generation of plumans, Hope’s brothers, had been five months, which was almost half the normal human period of time. The second generation of children, Hope’s nieces and nephews, had the same moderately accelerated growth. But, since the shockwave, everyone was in rapid growth. Dawn said it was because the plasmid was programmed to replicate as many copies as possible, which could only happen through mitosis. Hints of why this was happening had fallen upon his ears, but in the past weeks Dawn had withdrawn from everyone except Stew Singleton. No answers were coming from that direction.
“Tell me again about our wedding. The first one.” Hope crawled back under the covers, tangling her cold legs with his warm ones, setting him to shivering.
“Dirty heat stealer.”
She giggled. “It’s cold in the bathroom. You have to get Darren to flush the pipes; I don’t think the circulation is bringing enough heat into that part of the quarters. Tell me about our wedding.”
He closed his eyes, visualizing for the umpteenth time the day she married him, giving him Hope in a world without hope.

There were not many practicing priests or ministers by that time. The asteroid and comet impact had left Europe devastated physically, but the Americas were dying slow deaths as no children were born to replace the elderly, the sick, or the…suicides. Yet, some people held fast to their beliefs, and in 2041 he found a small parish in Owen Sound, Ontario, which still held services. They did not yet realize she was pregnant, had just thought she had a virus making her vomit. Her sickness was not just in the mornings, and the thought she could be fertile never crossed her mind.
Nicholas approached the doors of the church, pausing to admire the spire rising tall above the trees. So many buildings stood empty but intact. Tales of apocalypse he had read in his youth always described people as becoming rabid bands of marauders, but in reality most had turned either to their faith, or to despondency, as the slow realization came upon them that there would be no further generations of humans. Life had gone on after the first devastating effects of Impact had worn away.  People found comfort in routines and familiarity.
The doors to the chapel were open, and he beckoned Hope out of their truck. Together, they entered the building.
“Hello?”
A voice answered from the dais. “Hello. I’m sorry, you just missed service.”
They smiled at the pastor, and grasped each other’s hands. “We were wondering if you could do a wedding ceremony.”
Regarding their eager faces, the man in the robes of worship slowly broke into a smile. “It has been a long, long time since I’ve had a request for a wedding. Do you practice?”
“Practice?”
“Catholic religion. Are you wanting a Catholic wedding? With so few parishioners, we have become an interdenominational church but if you were Catholic…?”
“Sorry, no. But, you’ll do the wedding anyway?”
Again the priest smiled broadly. “Yes, of course. When?”
“Now?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, but we have to call in a witness and I don’t have anyone handy right now. Could you wait until tomorrow? Then we could place some flowers in the church.”
“Actually, I was hoping we could have the service outside, under the sky.”
“I used to give summer sermons down at the beach. It is a glorious setting. Would you mind if…if I asked others to come? To bear witness?” His eyes pleaded, asking them to give some small gift of diversion to the people in the town.
“Of course. The more the merrier. How do we get to the place? And, is there somewhere we can stay for the night?”
“Why don’t you stay with my sister and her husband? They have rooms to spare and live close to the water.”
Sharing a look, they nodded, and Hope replied, "That would be wonderful; thank you so much."