Sunday Snippet: An Answer to Fate

We've had the most insane weather this week. Three days in the high sixties and low seventies then a thirty degree drop on Friday with rain, rain, rain, followed by another dip in temperature and snow in an area not far from where I live. I predict a lot of people will end up with upper respiratory issues in the near future.

Had a very busy week with work projects. The two I've been working on are both wrapping up and we're down to the final tweaks and polishing. I've thoroughly enjoyed both and I'm looking forward to a small break to get some additional things accomplished around the house.

I didn't watch much of anything this week, mainly because I needed the quiet focus again. I did get most of the way through Resisting Roots and I started Enola Holmes 2. I have so much love for this movie!

I also got an episode of Star Trek: Discovery in. I'm thrilled everyone is back together and I love the changing dynamic of the characters. Looking forward to seeing more of this season.

I'll hopefully be back to a partially normal viewing schedule in the next week. I also found a streaming service that has a classic television network I've been missing for the past three or so years. I'll be giving that a whirl soon.

That's pretty much it for the life update this week. Tonight's post is from An Answer to Fate, a novella that starts a three-book series.

Here's the mini-blurb:

Quillan Jaymes and Jeb Paladino finally get their act together and declare themselves a couple. Too bad that's when everything goes wrong.

And a sneaky peek…

Quillan Jaymes sat in Isolation, an IV drip in her arm hydrating her system and replenishing essential nutrients. It had been four days since she’d had sustenance and two weeks of half rations prior to that. But she’d made it out, worse for the experience, but out.

"Six months with the cyborgs and those creepy cybots."

Four months of that being poked, prodded, stroked, stimulated, tormented and tortured by six different cyborg models.

And for what?

"A stupid special destiny foretold in some ancient texts?"

They’d been smart and saved Luther for last. By the time she'd been taken by cybot escort to him, she’d figured out enough to know that docile was the game of the day. Luther, not letting Quillan leave his side, spent days in the chamber with the cympath—a human with telepathic ability hooked up to machines. So Quillan played along, sitting with him and listening to the cympath drone on and on in the abstract way it had of doing.

Luther put his hands on Quillan's shoulders. "I want you to listen to the words, hear them, feel them." He'd squeeze gently then ease away.

Eventually Quillan tuned out the various ramblings that were related to the mundane running of the base and started picking up the musings of destiny-related details. She got to a point where she almost knew what the cympath would say before it uttered the words.

She shook her head at the weird connection she'd had with the being. It had been somewhat intuitive, and oddly, Quillan didn’t question it.

And it gave her the discovery of what the cyborgs were after.

They were after her … literally.

"I'm the key."

The bridge … between life and death, cyborg and human, destiny, fate, creators, creations, and the one who could not be named. The cympath laid everything out in front of Quillan and the pieces clicked into place. She held the fate of two races in her hands and neither of them knew it.

The event that brought her to the attention of the cyborgs, the swirling cluster of stars she’d entered then hurtled through, had been a piece of the puzzle … one she’d been certain would mean her death. Because she'd had an out-of-body experience.

Her guide, the cympath presenting itself as Luther—which she didn't know at the time—had told her to let it happen. "It's a new beginning and there is nothing to fear."

Well she didn’t fear anything.

Not anymore.

"It is a new beginning; all my sins wiped away … a clean slate." She held the knowledge close to her soul.

After several weeks of nonstop interaction, Luther finally assumed she couldn’t yet understand the cympath. "It's okay. We'll take some time, get reacquainted, and you'll come to know your heart." He paused a long moment. "And you'll realize I belong there."

 Quillan played along. She talked to Luther, told him her secrets, her fears, her insecurities, gaining his trust. For an entire month they did nothing but converse on every topic Luther could think of … philosophy had been a favorite, but he discussed poetry as well … as a concession to her.

During that month, Quillan had been free to explore the base, with an escort, and she wandered the ever-changing landscape carefully taking it all in.

 The next month saw an alteration in demeanor for her relationship with Luther. The others were impatient with the progress forcing Luther to revise his plans. The change had been subtle at first with a touch here, a caress there. By the end of the week, Quillan's suspicious nature screamed warnings, but she continued to play along.

 Another week passed before she realized the food had been drugged and she only figured it out because she lost patches of time. Luther also became more aggressive in his pursuit. Quillan needed time to make a plan.

For the next two weeks, she only ate half her food and suffered through Luther’s special brand of love, pretending a responsiveness that made her skin crawl. But the pretense allowed her to move about the base freely now, without the escort. Having to endure the long, slow, numbing kisses had her heaving what little she ate afterward.

In the guise of quiet wandering, she mapped out a route to the docking bay. The trick to the ever-changing landscape had been to ignore it and focus on what she knew. She counted steps and turns and twists for three different routes during the last week she'd been on the asteroid.

Then she stopped eating the food.

A little longer than I usually put up for a preview but I like the way this scene is going and wanted to share most of it.

 

That's it for this week. Catch everyone on the flipside.

ML Skye