For those who enjoyed the Convergent
Space series, here's a little bit extra - the prologue I wrote for the first
book but never used.
‘Do
you know who you are?' he asked, staring down at the brightly glowing orb where
it sat on the temporary podium he had fashioned out of the ice.
The
coloured filaments within the orb blinked and flashed. ‘We know who we are – Do you know who you
are?'
He
blew out a breath in frustration and it hung in the cold, still air. ‘Tell me
what you remember.'
‘What,
everything? How long have you got? - Don't be a smart-ass – Shut up! - No, you
shut up! - Who wants to talk about the past anyway?'
‘One
at a time, please.'
'Listen
to him - Who does he think he is? - If you'd shut up for a moment we'd find
out.'
'What's
wrong with you?' he asked.
‘What
wrong with us? – What's wrong with you?' The orb flashed brightly. 'Something
is broken inside - There's no cohesion – Nothing to hold us together.'
Up
in the pale, grey sky the huge burn ship waited, dominating everything,
dwarfing everything. It was almost fully loaded now. The last of the private
ships owned by the rich fraternities and covens were being swallowed up through
an opening in its obese, grey-brown hull. Its 120 engines, each powerful enough
to drive any normal ship, were sparking into life.
It
was an ugly ship. Different sections of the hull had been fashioned at
different times from different materials and it looked old and worn-out. In
fact this was its maiden flight. It was also its final flight. The burn ship
would make only one journey, one very long journey with one very clear purpose.
Then it would be scuttled.
‘I
need to ask you some important questions,' he tried again, resting a hand upon
the orb. 'Questions only you can answer.'
‘What
questions? – What answers? – We'll try – No we won't – Who are you anyway?'
‘I
told you, I'm Tihn Forlihn. A Phlegar, like you.'
‘Forlihn,
that rings a bell – Of course it does – But why? – Who knows! - It's our name
isn't it? – Is it? – Of course it is! – Oh for heaven's sake!'
Tihn
shook his head. Had he really risked his life for this? He looked up at the
burn ship.
‘I
suppose we'd better go.'
‘Where?'
‘We're
leaving.'
‘What?
Now?'
‘Yes,
now.'
Tihn
had arrived the previous evening, ditching the treacherous skiteship in the
cold waters of the partially frozen lake. It was essentially a flying coffin
(in size, shape and reliability) so he'd been dreading the landing. He was
convinced the skiteship would malfunction and burn him to a crisp on entry to
the moon's atmosphere. It didn't and he swam ashore through the freezing waters
to join the crowds of passengers waiting to board.
Now
the ice-sheet was empty apart from a few stragglers like himself, some taking
the opportunity to sift through the debris left behind on the ice – packing
cases, bags, upturned food containers and other rubbish - looking for anything
useful, valuable or edible. People who weren't travelling with their
fraternities or covens would find resources very hard to come by on the flight.
And was a long, long journey.
He
had signed up for this trip as a last resort. He'd made a mess of his life thus
far and booking a passage on a burn ship was a way of making a new start. It
meant everything he'd done up until now would be wiped clean and forgotten.
Forever.
He
began packing things up, deflating the blow-up chair and putting it into his
rucksack then folding up the bed and slinging it over one shoulder. Finally he
lifted the annoying orb from its perch and slipped it into his rucksack.
Then
he set off across the ice, making for the skyferry that would take him up into
the bowels of the waiting burn ship where his new life would begin.