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    Crysalis: Beginnings
    Crysalis: Beginnings
    Crysalis: Beginnings
    Ebook75 pages1 hour

    Crysalis: Beginnings

    By J. Kirsch, J. A. Johnson and K.G. McAbee

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    About this ebook

    In the distant future, the last remnants of humanity huddle in fragmented societies deep below ground, struggling to stay alive while threatened with inconceivable dangers. Three strong women from three different cultures are on intersecting paths, heading towards a fateful meeting which may well be mankind's only hope for survival...

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJ. Kirsch
    Release dateMay 17, 2014
    ISBN9781310998621
    Crysalis: Beginnings
    Author

    J. Kirsch

    I'm an avid writer, traveler, and dog lover. I grew up in Chicago, IL raised by two librarians with a sincere love for storytelling, and the rest has been one long and mostly memorable adventure. I have published 3 novels, 7 novellas and more than 65 short stories. My stories have been featured on The Book Cave, received praise from award-winning authors, and become bestsellers on Amazon and Smashwords. I currently live in Spartanburg, SC, where I have the privilege of working with amazing people who love books and storytelling as much as I do.

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      Book preview

      Crysalis - J. Kirsch

      Crysalis Beginnings

      Meade's Tale segment copyright K.G. McAbee 2014
      Iionii's Tale segment copyright J.A. Johnson 2014
      Vira's Tale segment copyright J. Kirsch 2014

      All content copyright © J.A. Johnson, J. Kirsch and K.G. McAbee 2014

      Cover art copyright © J.A. Johnson 2014

      Smashwords Edition

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      Thank you for downloading this ebook. Although this is an electronic book, it remains the property of the authors, and may not be reproduced, copied, and/or distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to obtain their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by the authors. Thank you for your support.

      A note from the authors:

      Thank you for reading the stories of our upcoming science fiction series, Crysalis. We'd appreciate it if you'd take a moment to write a review at Smashwords and share your thoughts on our work. Feedback is always great, and we love hearing from our readers. Thanks!

      Crysalis (formerly chrysalis or chrysalides; spelling reformed New System Dictionary, 25th Edition, 2327: Burroughs Ltd. New New York and Selene). The pupa of certain kinds of insects, especially of moths and butterflies, that is inactive and enclosed in a firm case or cocoon from with the adult will eventually emerge.

      Crysalis: Meade's Tale

      K.G. McAbee

      Part One: Quicker than the Eye

      The crowd, their scrawny bodies dressed in simple kilts and tunics of homespun and fish leather, gathered around me, murmuring, their bulging eyes wary but interested. This break in their usual daily monotony of same, same and more of the same had brought what must be the whole village down to the square to see the newcomer give a final performance before leaving.

      The whole village, in this particular one at least, consisted of about thirty, with a hard-to-count wandering herd of bony kids thrown into the total. Their homes were tumble-down piles of rock or wattle-and-daub, plus some shallow caves laboriously scraped from the living stone of Haven. We all were aware of—or at least I was; maybe they were used to it—the constant drip drop drip drop of water falling perpetually from the top of the cavern.

      In some of the larger villages and towns, those close to Loop stations for example, such condensation problems were taken care of by intricate series of blowers and baffles or even, in the techie enclaves near the surface, by electric dehydrators.

      Little Middle was about as far as you could get from a large village, and I doubted if many visitors made their way here at the best of times. The nearest Loop station was five day's hard journey, and with all the recent disruptions and excitements, no one would be likely to come here now or for the foreseeable future. Especially since the fierce ammonia reek of the village's surrounding cesspools made a barrier as strong as a wall for the more fastidious. The inhabitants didn't seem to notice the stink, lucky them, but I'd been breathing through my mouth ever since we'd gotten within sniffing distance of the place.

      Still, since the boys and I had done our job as well as we usually do—that's not conceit, by the way—we wouldn't have to stay longer. Thus, my final, going-away performance.

      I've spent time in even less savory places, difficult as that may be to believe. It's what I do, after all. The forgotten peoples of Haven can be hotbeds of infection and disease, so the Brainery sends me out to do two things: investigate and inoculate. With the help of the boys, I'd done both in Little Middle. We'd taken blood samples. We'd vaccinated against everything we could vaccinate against.

      I wasn't sure it would do much good in the long run, though. Too many strange diseases were floating around; that made getting back to the Brainery with our samples even more important than trying to keep the people around me alive.

      I looked around the circle of my audience and caught their eyes.

      Magic, I said in a portentous tone and was rewarded with a soft Ahh… of wonderment.

      Or perhaps it was just gas. Turnips are the major crop of Little Middle, with the occasional wild indulgence in a cabbage or two, to augment the usual fish-and-fungus of such off-grid places. I've survived on the same diet myself, plenty of times. Survived is the operative word. These folks were scrawny and I could see plenty of the deficiency diseases in their bowed legs and scabrous skin. Still, I wasn't there to save them. I gave up on saving a long time ago. Now I'm happy just to do my job, as long as the result is to keep the ones I care about alive.

      Magic, I said, louder, magic of the ancients, those mighty miracle workers of distant times and far off places, when the sky above, I gestured towards the invisible cavern ceiling above us and hid a smile as all the heads before me looked up as if worked by wires, was littered with scores and hundreds of blazing lights and bright glowing spheres.

      I looked around. Confused looks were my only reward.

      Ah, of course.

      Balls. Roundy rounds. Shiny, sparkly roundy balls. I described with gestures.

      Several nodded, but

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