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    Volume: Marshab
    Volume: Marshab
    Volume: Marshab
    Ebook94 pages1 hour

    Volume: Marshab

    By L. Probus

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    About this ebook

    Volume is a collection of the first seven episodes of the Marshab Series.

    This series follows Erik, an exobotonist, and his team of colleagues on a third wave academic survey mission to an established Marshab system of biodomes on an abandonned colony.

    The team face challenges both on both techical and political fronts and struggle to manifest rewards of the surprise opportunity to stay on planet, off project.

    Author L. Probus is an American artist who has worked in several media and loves Earth.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherL. Probus
    Release dateJul 14, 2015
    ISBN9781513089461
    Volume: Marshab

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      Book preview

      Volume - L. Probus

      This is a collection of the first seven episodes in the Marshab Series.

      These stories began as a single short story, a stab at the traditional hard science fiction genre, called The First Last Trip. This piece was a hint that short stories were not really my bag, but long stints at the keys are not really on my agenda either, so it sat from the summer of 2005 till late in 2014, when the world had changed enough that it seemed more practical just to put it up on Amazon as an ebook than consider finishing it or shipping it around for advice in publishing.

      I did that. I received high praise and cringed at the leaping typos and glitches that are the core stumbles of independent writers in a digital vacuum.

      Praise often encourages progress, though, and progress I did, through six more installments in this story. I have brought those all here together for you, roughly re-edited, in the Marshab XII Volume.

      If you have read the others as they trickled up into the interwebs, you may decide to pass on this piece, unless you feel the need to comb through and find subtle changes, wish to use the body of work as a reference in your dissertation, or simply want to read about Erik and his peers for longer than 15 minutes at a time. The advantage of a grouping like this is that I can offer it for much less than my its free or you buy me coffee baseline. I would make them all free all the time if I could, but I need coffee. As the story unfolds, episodes will still be released in their 3000 words more or less (probably less) pieces, but I might do this again at the next major junction in the story.

      I want you to enjoy these books. More than that, I want you, my beloved reader, to consider the ideas we are swimming with as you read and ask the next question in your own lives. This is as close to our reality as I am likely to ever write, and I think this alternate future present is worthy of your pondering and that there is something to be addressed in our own technopersonal jibe.

      We are the balance.

      The First Last Trip

      Marshab Series 1.1

      L. Probus

      With many thanks to James Gunn, whose grace and experience inspire me.

      No one comes back the same.

      But here I am.

      You’re different, now.

      I was waiting for the first port when it hit me. The last runner climbed down from the rail and blew me a kiss on his way out. He looked tired, ragged and above all proud. His shoes were not the issue, but I couldn’t look away from them. They had grey stripes and laced. That team had been up for eighteen earth months. I knew he had seen two Martian winters and survived a summer. I looked down at my own shiny black leather boots with invisible buckles and wondered. They were smooth to avoid catching in the long grasses where I thought we were going. 

      He didn’t carry anything. His jacket, too, looked a little odd. It had wide lapels, and seemed dusty. I had two bags with me. One was a smooth leather traveler that held my clothes, my tools and my images of home and the house on the bend. I loved that house. The other was all work. It was made from Heeger solarcloth, and unrolled into a small screen and keypad combination. The lining could be unfurled like a sail or worn as a cape. That runner getting off before me didn’t carry anything, but it was the shoes that tipped me off. I might not be the same on the way back in. 

      Our ride showed. All eight of us rode up to the dock. Amos and Carly sat in the front. I took a spot behind them. Mary and Meia sat behind me. Noah, Dien and Adam climbed in last. Dien crawled up into the spot beside me.

      See it? he grinned.

      I grinned. Dien was graceful and large. He could find his way into any crowd and come out with a friend. He had black spiral locks that were tied back in a knot. He was our visual expert.

      Where do you think they traded boots? I asked.

      I wondered that myself, you know. That was not issue gear they were wearing. See the look in that last guy’s eyes? His shoulders were proud. I wonder what they found out there. Something. he said.

      Definitely something. I said.

      I leaned back and closed my eyes. We had nine hours of ride before the next hop.

      I was on the beach with Mara when the alert sounded. I woke up with my hands over my head and reached for my HS sack just as the car dropped. We were fine. Just a downline. Everyone looked around and Amos started to laugh.

      Whoo. Ok, boys. Catch your breath. We just got here, but this ain’t the end of the road yet. Amos said.

      The downline had pulled us off track. Carly helped Meia pick up the cards. Riders had limited power onboard.  A downline could pull a rider out of the channel that carried us from Earth to Mars. Our channel was programmed before we left, but things change. The cards allowed a reconfiguration of the field to cancel the downline force, and keep us moving to the next relay. The rider whined and gyros kicked back in. We were on our way again.

      Meia and Mary were the only women in our crew. Mary was the engineer. She was about fifty, with grey laugh lines. She didn’t look like an engineer at all. She looked like a baker.

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