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The Suvival of Cade
The Suvival of Cade
The Suvival of Cade
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The Suvival of Cade

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How many times have you heard, "You've never read a story like this before?" Do you believe it? Would you like to make a wager. Download a sample. Make me prove it.

Cade was a rock rat. He'd been turned loose as a toddle in the tunnels of Sixth Moon. The rats were far more likely to survive their five years of service running the Soor Corp blockade than cubbies, but they'd lowered 'dult again and he gave his hole to an arban with a human toddle. The arban told him he earned luck. A few minutes later, he was caught in the draft sweep. He "talked back" to The Honorable and the young thiss over was delighted. He offered him a job, when he finished his training. He was just who The Honorable and the people of Sixth Moon needed.

The blockade would end and arbans would call him the Luck Maker, but the legacy of it was a vast fleet whose only job and skill was destroy ships and kill.

Sharon Reddy:
"Of all the heroes I've written, Cade is my favorite. He's just so... sensible."

About books by Sharon L Reddy, reviewers said:

recluse:
"The author is a fine wordsmith who possesses a marvelous imagination."

Raven's Reviews:
"...unique, fast-paced style ...allows one to read almost as fast as one can think."
"...romantic brain-candy... If you like almost any kind of men at all, you'll like hers..."

Mistress of the Dark Path:
"...you will also notice your mind is stimulated."
"...designed for a more educated and worldly crowd."

R. Cagle:
"I got hooked immediately."

Marji Holt:
"The characters came out of the books and into my dreams."

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJun 6, 2011
ISBN9781583385081
The Suvival of Cade
Author

Sharon L Reddy

I write science fiction romance, but it's the literary definition of romance. Swashbuckle, Baby, in "white tie and tails." High romantic fantasies, million word mysteries, family sagas, statesmen, gurus and wise immortals. Loving dads, sons and brothers, and of course, the women who understand and appreciate them. High fashion and landscape design. Materials and art, the books are built to be read very fast, specifically for the way women visualize. Research on the soap operas of the fifties, trends in international populist (fan) fiction, technological development, and above all, long-term entertainment value. It has to be good in reruns. The intent is create a body of work that's just fun to read, in spurts or bursts over decades. Ethics, responsibility, nobless oblige, the power of money, the use of prestige. I write good guys win. Period. They're fantasies for women. Men with lots of muscle say, "I love you," a lot.Most of what is currently published was written in the first decade, 1991-1999, before Mother Nature changed my personal definition of "mature audience." I hope you'll remain with me as I and my work mature and enjoy the second decade of my work now being published, as well.I've lived many places and visited far more. My current residence is on a high mesa in New Mexico, in the United States, where I am engaged in a habitat restoration project.Explanation of the Pilots Group:Some of these works have been sitting on my hard drive close to twenty years and they're no fun for anyone just sitting there. They're exactly what they've been titled, pilots, like for a TV series. It is my intent and hope that other writers will choose to continue the adventures of the characters. There are only three restrictions. Don't kill off my heroes, don't make good guys bad guys and give my story credit if you publish. Yes, you may publish and make money on your stories. I loved reading and writing fan fiction, but the limitations on it could be frustrating, so... Have fun with these works that specifically don't have them.

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    The Suvival of Cade - Sharon L Reddy

    Sharon L Reddy

    The Survival of Cade

    © 2004, 2011

    Target Yonder

    Smashwords Edition

    ISBN 978-1-58338-508-1

    Chapter One

    Cade was a rock rat. He knew all the holes. He almost felt sorry for the cubbies. Probably would have if it wasn't likely the draft sweep was going to get him too.

    They'd lowered adult again. That put everybody over ten thiss years out of their cubbies. You had to earn a cubby if you were adult. The fleet needed warm bodies. You could earn a nice cubby on fleet pay, but you had to stay alive five years to earn it. Nobody human volunteered.

    He saw Shades and swore. He'd lost his hole or he wouldn't have his toddle with him. Shades said every rat had a duty to take care of a toddle. Cade admired the principle, but he barely fed himself. Shades was arban. He could usually get enough food in pay for a toddle too. He'd raised one until he could earn a meal. This was his second. She was human and a smart little thing. She'd picked Shades as the rat to follow.

    We're out, Cade. They found the hole early. Barely got Pookie out.

    Take my hole. Not much, but they won't find it to fill it. Shades, you were right. Takin' care of a toddle is good luck. Wish me some.

    Cade, you got integrity.

    Yeah, and I'm not real bright. Take care of the toddles, Shades, even after you earn a cubby. Wish me luck?

    Don't need to. You earn it. Move, Cade. They aren't far behind.

    Cade watched his furry mate amble down the corridor. The grubby little girl waved bye-bye to him, then ran after the dark gray arban. Cade wished them luck, just in case Shades was wrong, but he'd done what he could.

    Shades was almost fully grown. An adult gray could always earn a cubby on Sixth Moon Station. They had the thickest fur and biggest eyes. They were the only ones who didn't need thermal suits and lights in the burrows. They were making the station bigger. It wasn't really safe, but it was better than a fleet berth. A barrage had to really shake Sixth Moon for there to be falls in the corridors of the settlement burrowed into the hard rock.

    Cade got moving. It was his best chance. They really wanted cruits. He believed they had to beat Soor, but he also knew only one cruit in a couple thousand lived out his five-year. Three-fourths died before they got off a blockade runner and on a patroller. The best way to survive was get as fast, smart and old as possible before you were cruited. Having an infant between two of you could keep you out. A toddle didn't. An infant earned a pair a gov cubby. A toddle didn't. Every toddle he knew of had survived to be a rat. The gov didn't tell people how many babies they could have. It looked like it was going to be a long war, had been a long one. Soor Corp had gotten it extended.

    Cade had been a sub-structure toddle. A bense had taken care of him. He still missed Bendy at times, but he'd been on his own a long time. Bendy had been cruited when adult age had been dropped to thirteen. Cade thought it had been longer than five years, but he hadn't expected the willowy bense to make it back. Humans and thiss had the best chance. Bense and arban had the least. Humans and thiss were faster. If they were sharp enough, they'd go straight to fighter pilot. One out of seven hundred fighter pilots made it five years. It would have been real unfair, but bense and arbans were more likely to earn one of the few cubbies too necessary to cruit from than humans.

    Cade found a hole and scrambled in. His best chance was to get through them and into the area they'd already swept. Of course, every other rat who could find a hole into a systems conduit was trying to do the same. He knew he wasn't going to make it when he heard the hole he'd used being sealed. There would be somebody at both ends coming toward him. He sat down to wait.

    The cruiting office was gorge, too much nice to digest all at once. The light hurt Cade's eyes. He would have liked the shades the cruiters were handing out to the arbans. He looked at the thiss in line and wondered. They all lived up-level. They didn't cruit in the upper levels. They were volunteers. He'd never met a thiss. A cruiter looked the bunch he was with over and Cade looked her over back, working on getting the same expression of non-interested interest in her eyes.

    You, you, you, in there.

    Gonna' take a thiss too, or just us sub rats.

    Thiss don't need showers so the med bots can check them, Rat. You three are good size. You're going to get to be in the holos.

    Look, cits, the ten years are big, strong, dults. It's not too young for thiss and it's not too young for bense, arbs or humes. Cuts. Your call, mate?

    Cade. I think you got it, Cuts. She looked 'barrassed. Hole, the light's bright.

    We're just used to sub, Cade. This is dim for both our spees. Level sixty?

    Sixty-eight through seventy-two. I move a lot.

    Level forty-six for me. Had a nice hole.

    I had a safe hole. Gave it to an arb mate with a human toddle. We aren't as easy as bense and arbs.

    You have earned luck. I'm Soot.

    That's what my mate Shades said, Soot. I got caught about two after.

    It will come in an unexpected way when it can do most good. You've earned life luck. The luck will come if your will to use it is strong.

    My will is to survive. Water!

    I have never felt water on my fronds. No one I know has. I will be filled.

    Yeah, wait'll it starts rinse, Cuts. I can smell cleaner in it. You don't want a bunch of cleaner in your fibers. I'll yell when it's clear.

    Strip, Rat, and get in. You'll get a nice clean coverall when you're clean enough to put in it. Vermin?

    Never had a chance to catch one. Used lube in my hole so didn't get the other.

    Scan says no bugs. You keep your hair.

    Cade stepped under the falling water and smiled. His lube trick on his hole had worked. There wouldn't be many human rats without bugs. His hole would be a good place for the toddle. Shades would find her someone else if he earned a cubby and they wouldn't have bugs either. The comment on lube had gone right by the cruiter. Up-level fool didn't even ask a rat how he got lube. He sighed. The water was incredible and more than amazing. He picked up the brush from the shelf and slowly began helping get off the grime that had built up since last time he'd run an errand and earned a sonic. Water, the bense was intended to fill his fibers so he'd look good for the holos. He and the arban got too so it wasn't obvious.

    It was going to feel strange not to have a thin coat of lube that convinced the robo sensors he was a maintenance bot in the systems conduits. He was glad he'd taught some littles the trick. If the robos were convinced you were a bot, you could make yourself a good hole. He'd discovered it when he'd lubed his. He'd gotten coated and the robos had ignored him. They'd pitch his covers and never know they were soaked in precious lube. He'd feel a little better about blockade knowing some of the lube brought in was going to help littles survive.

    RINSE!

    He hoped his shout was loud enough Cuts heard it. The bense might never get another chance to fill all his fibers. Even if it was a trick, it was luck and any arb would say grab it. He looked at his skin and sighed. Without his coat of lube, he was pasty white. Most humans had some color. He didn't. Even his eyes were almost colorless. He'd never met anyone else with white hair and pale gray-blue eyes. They told him he wasn't an alb. Shades said he was a throwback. Cade thought it was nice, but he knew mute when he saw one's reflection. He followed the commed instructions and went through a hatch.

    The four in the room he entered were all male, three human and a large-headed thiss. Bare wouldn't have bothered him even if they weren't all male. The thiss interested him. He knew there were young overs whose heads weren't so big they were immobile, but he'd never expected to see one. This one would be the Honorable. He was surprised he liked the sound of his voice, deep, nice, and it told him what the wing arms and hands were expressing with inflection and tone.

    Ah, the human. He's interestingly colored. Your name, Cruit?

    Cade.

    Just one name?

    Does the honorable thiss have more than one?

    I have four.

    Does the honorable thiss use all of them?

    On occasion.

    Does the Honorable think I look like I'd have any occasions? Just Cade.

    He's charming! Absolutely delightful! Cade, what do you wish for your life?

    A long one and a holing good reason of my own if it isn't.

    Could you survive a staff position? Think carefully.

    Cade thought fast. Staff wasn't blockade, but it wasn't easy or survive wouldn't have been the word chosen by the thiss. The human at the desk looked doubtful. Cade figured out what kind of staff position the thiss was talking about by the cruiter officer's face.

    Honorable, you don't want... He has to understand the position and be capable of performing it.

    Do you know what a staff position is, Cade? Thiss are very different. The overs are hundreds of years old and their great minds are why Sixth Moon is not part of the Soor corporate entity. All males have potential to become overs, but most die. Our species has both males and females, but the terms mean something very different than for humans, arbans or even bense. Ninety-nine of a hundred males provide what is needed for one to become an over. They provide the male hormone that triggers the growth of the brain and allows its full use. Only one in ten thousand or more becomes an over. Most live out their natural span. If one survives his five year term of service, he is given an egg to fertilize. Overs do not sire all offspring. You know our females are immobile and mindless. One of about every seventy unfertilized eggs becomes a female. A female lays one egg every year, our year, which is what this station uses. Staff positions are the way to become officers, managers, trustees, then overs, if one survives. I did. I do not like many of those with whom we must deal to survive. But as long as they are needed, they are guests. They are entitled to live as we do and to observe our customs. Those unpleasant guests must also be considered in your decision. Others than thiss are entitled to try for staff positions. You would be the only human on my staff, though many of the officers with whom I work are human. I am a young over. I do not have the staff size of the ancient overs. The cruiter's question is pertinent. You have body hair. Are you capable of a staff position?

    I get somewhere when I decide to go. Have for awhile.

    Rat, you don't know what you're really getting into. The position is available to you, but it's not running errands and you have to be an asset in ways I doubt you can understand.

    Cruiter, I understand my cream has what he needs to outthink Soor Corp stratos and get what we need from space slime who want me for dessert after dinner conversation. Honorable, I get the same contract as a thiss, but I get to designate a toddle as my spring and he gets the birth rights I earn. I get school. I get to learn the same as thiss. Don't want privileges or excuses because I'm human. Want every benefit that goes with the job. I think I've got a better chance of survivin' than on blockade or fighter, Cruiter. On staff rations, I could get real healthy. I'll give my share of some of them to someone else. I don't need cream to think fast.

    Wonderful! 'Cream,' as you call it, is not part of rations, Cade, but you obviously do understand the position. Cruiter, he is acceptable for my staff.

    I'll note it, Honorable. You just might make it, Rat. Through there. Picture then basic. You get through and the Honorable still wants you, you'll be assigned staff. You might just live through it.

    Cade grinned and went to get pictures. He didn't know how many thiss lived through five on the Honorable's staff, but some did and he expected it was more than one in seven hundred. Since almost half lived through basic, he figured he'd just upped his odds of making his five considerably. His arb mates would say he'd recognized luck, if he survived.

    Chapter Two

    Move you coffin! Roll! Roll! Holes, that was close! Don't count 'em, Cuts. It's our last training mission. From now on we won't be sittin' in tubs with slingshots. I'm about sorry I won't be goin' out. They do a pretty good sell on 'glory' and making real mates. Soot, I did a rec on you. You're too good a nav to waste on blockade. Cuts, you're a comm wizard.

    We wouldn't be if you hadn't helped. Luck is earned. I hope the luck you earned is always recognized.

    Soot, you arbs got it both ways. Luck is always around if you earned it. If it isn't, it's 'cause you didn't recognize it.

    Earning luck to recognize luck is very hard. One must earn it by recognizing it.

    Make the most of any chance that comes along. Cuts, you're gettin' skinny and tall.

    I've nearly used all the moisture I stored in growth, Cade. I recognized the luck. I'm now large enough to bud. If I get a chance, I'll do it. You aren't skinny and nearly as tall as me.

    I was always tall. Nice not to be skinny. Landing port. Docking system engaged. Clank and we got the old tub home again. Hope the next bunch who get her do as well. Comm to control. Mission eight-five-two-six-eight completed.

    Corridor established. Congrats, you passed.

    Yeah, we're alive.

    That's graduation, cruit. Assignments on the board. Look me up if you make five. You didn't get blockade slots. Cade, you got a chance as a fighter pilot.

    Squige, I said yes to my posting when they got me. I want a staff contract.

    You're crazy, but Coots says you earn luck. You go to trans, Cade. Cuts and Soot, you're posted. Squige out.

    Mates, in five years, less sixty, I'll be at Cuperson's. I'll buy you four big pitchers of water, Cuts. Soot, earn luck and recognize it.

    I know I can. I recognized you. Earn luck and recognize it, Cade.

    Cade grinned at his two friends and turned left. They'd proceed to second stage training. He was headed for the trans office. The rest of his training would be on the job. He wasn't looking forward to it.

    The trans officer looked him over, then pointed to a drop capsule. Cade climbed in, sighed when he was reminded cruit covers didn't go to his new assignment, and tossed them out. The capsule dropped a bit, moved forward and began to rise. He was going up-level. He didn't expect it to be pleasant, but he was sure it would be interesting.

    The Honorable was pleased. The oddly-colored human male had grown and thickened. He had obviously worked his body to gain health. He might survive. Humans were very sturdy. The Honorable called all his staff, introduced Cade and put them to work. He needed to prepare for the group coming that evening. Cade pleased him again. He took a deep breath and stepped into his stimulant cluster.

    Cade was wobbling, but so was everyone else. The thiss had two more legs and they were wobbling. He began

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