I’m not sure what to call this, but here we go!

So, since late December I’ve been working on a new book series which I have yet to name (hence the title of this post). In November I finished my sixth and final Prince of Prophecy book, and I promised myself that I was going to wait a little while to start writing again, but … I cracked. I HAD to start writing this or I would have probably exploded.

I had the idea for this science fiction series in 2009 (about three years before I started writing The Prince of Prophecy). It was originally going to be a Science Fiction/Horror series based off of a dream I had (I get a lot of my inspiration from dreams), but, in the end, I decided to lean more towards adventure than horror (although there will be horror elements). I was considering posting my originals notes, but they’re honestly not written very well…

However, what I do have for you is the prologue (first draft, so be gentle with me) of this new series of mine. If it’s received well, I might post a couple more preliminary chapters so be sure to “like” this post if you liked this post, haha!

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Prologue
Welcome to the Jungle

The sound that roused Noire from a peaceful sleep, he had not heard in a very long time and he shouldn’t have been hearing now—it was the middle of the night for goodness sake! He had painstakingly went to extreme lengths to make sure his base of operations stayed hidden from the authorities along with everyone else.
He sat up in bed, narrowing his yellowish eyes as he slipped his hand beneath his pillow to grasp the cold titanium handle of his plasma gun. Perhaps he’d just dreamt of the sound? That must have been it. There was no way anyone could know where he was—it just wasn’t possible.

Knock, knock, knock, came the infernal noise again. Noire could no long deny that someone was indeed at the entrance hatch of his underground base. He was very much awake and that sound was very much real. He slid from his bed and pressed a button on his bedside stand. Stairs extended from the floating platform upon which his ‘bedroom’ was located and he silently crept down the steps, keeping his finger on the trigger of his gun.

Knock, knock! The noise sounded more insistent this time, as he maneuvered around the mechanisms and equipment that littered the floor of his bunker. The machines whirred and hummed as their clear tubes glowed reds, blues, and greens in the otherwise – space. Although it may have looked like a mess of gadgets and machinery to the untrained eye, Noire had meticulously placed everything just so and nothing was a single nanometer out-of-place. Where others saw chaos, he saw order, and he liked it. That was what he excelled at—looking past the obvious and seeing things that others could not. This extraordinary ability is what his entire career hinged upon.

He prowled towards the entrance hatch his muscles tensing as he neared it. Whoever was at his door was dead, they just didn’t know it yet. There were plenty of ways he could exterminate the pests outside his door without even opening it, but he always got a bit vindictive when he was woken from a pleasant sleep—which was not often. He was going to see with his own eyes the face of the fool who dared encroach upon his solitude in the middle of the night.

Noire typed in a code upon the keypad of the steel reinforced entrance hatch and lifted his plasma gun. He heard the sound of one, two, three large bolts pulling back from their sockets, and a moment later the hatch slid aside to reveal three hooded figures standing just outside. The figure at the head of the group was holding what looked like a small body in his arms. The two men on either side of him already had their plasma guns trained on Noire. He kept his finger on the trigger of his own gun but didn’t shoot just yet.

“That’s it?” Noire asked, his expression as cold and stern as his steely voice. “You only brought two guards with you? You do know who I am, don’t you?”
The figure at the head of the group, carefully hoisted the body up onto his shoulder so he could remove his hood. Noire saw that the older man who stood before him had dark, slicked back hair with streaks of gray. His features were strikingly angular, and his eyes were as dark as the blackest night. Noire had seen this man before, but it had been several years since they last saw each other.

He slowly lowered his gun and the two hooded men did the same. “Mr. Cain. I thought our business had concluded.”

“So did I, Mr. Noire,” Cain replied, his voice low and growling. He had the same rich accent as Noire.

Noire had long suspected that Cain was from the same place as he—the eastern most quadrant of the North Western Empire formerly known as ‘England’. But he had never bothered to asked—given their relationship, Noire felt it was hardly an appropriate question. Now they, along with many others, resided on what centuries old—not to mention banned—texts referred to as the ‘North American Continent’.

“Why are you here?” Noire asked, his tone cooler than he intended it to be.

Cain didn’t seem to mind Noire’s cool demeanor. Instead he motioned to the bundled up figure in his bulky arms. “The package you left with us two years ago is no longer safe in our possession. You must take it back.”

Noire’s eyes fell upon the bundle over Cain’s shoulder. He felt the blood drain from his face in that instant. “No. No, I can’t take it. I’m in no position to care for something like that.”

“Do you think my organization was any more prepared for it than you are now?” Cain asked calmly. “We are a rebel militia group, not a daycare center. As you may know, the Timber Organization has recently come under fire, and the North-Western Empire has found many of our hideouts. For the safety of this child, she must stay where no one else can find her. She must stay with you.”

Noire’s lips pressed into a thin, white line. “You can’t be serious. My lifestyle isn’t suitable for a child—especially not one so young.”

“Then make it suitable,” Cain said, stepping over the threshold and offering what Noire now understood to be a blanket wrapped child to him. “This world is more dangerous than it has ever been before, and she needs to be protected. The emperor is scouring for her—she knows something that could incriminate his empire, I know it. It is my duty and yours to protect her as well as the information she possesses.”

Noire shook his head and backed away as if the child was an unstable chemical substance. “And just how do you suggest that I do that?”

“Make her forget. That’s the only way,” Cain said, his voice softening as he stroked the little girl’s back. “She hasn’t said why they might be after her, but she possess the information the Empire seeks—the information they want to keep secret from the rest of the world. It’s somewhere in that fascinating mind of hers… So you must extract it and keep it hidden well.”

Noire ran a hand through his short, black hair, glancing back into his chaotic bunker. “Extracting memories is tricky. My machine is a hundred years old at least—the best I can do is wipe her entire memory clean.”

“Then so be it. She’s only five—she has her entire life to create new memories. Pleasant memories,” Cain said. He shut his eyes for a moment, before going on. “Do you have a safe place to store the momentos you extract?”

“Of course. Unfortunately I have no way to view the momentos after I’ve extracted them,” Noire said, placing hand on his slender hip. “Last I checked, you wolves don’t have a way to do it either. Once I wipe her memory, that information the Empire wants her for might as well be destroyed. You really want to risk that?”

Cain exhaled through his nose and nodded once. “Perhaps one day the Timber Organization will be able to acquire a memory reader—that’s the best we can hope for, I suppose. But the most important thing is that she remains out of harm’s way. She’s more than just a way to help us bring down this Empire for good—she’s a living, breathing person, and she deserves the chance to experience life just like anyone else. She’ll have her best chance with you, Mr. Noire.”

Noire pressed his hands to his face and dragged them down until his fingers were steepled beneath his chin. “That’s why I brought her to you, Cain. I thought you would be able to give her her best chance. You’ve got a whole organization at your fingertips. I can’t raise a child! I’m not equipped. Besides, my business is one no impressionable youths should be subjected to.”

“I’m well aware of your ‘business’, Mr. Noire—or should I say Panther?”

Noire raised a brow. “So you know.”

“Of course, I know,” Cain said. “There is no one else on earth that possesses the skill to steal such precious artifacts from right underneath the Emperor’s nose. But, worry not, I’ve told no one that you and the elusive ‘Panther’ are one in the same.”

Noire’s yellow eyes flicker to Cain’s two companions. “Are those AIB’s?”

“Yes,” Cain replied. “The newest models.”

Noire raised his gun and shot both of Cain’s companions in the head. They sparked, shuddered violently, and fell to the ground. He then stuck his plasma gun in the waist band of his pajama pants. “Sorry. Can’t be too careful with bots—they’re really easy to extract information from.”

Cain glanced back over his shoulder at the broken Artificial Intelligence Beings, sighing to himself. “It’s alright. I would’ve had to do it when I returned to headquarters anyway. Although, I wouldn’t have been so brash with my execution…”

Noire shrugged. “To each his own.”

Cain hoisted the girl from his shoulder and handed her to Noire. He held out his arms, not wanting the sleeping child to fall to the ground. “Now then,” Cain said in his usual growling voice. “Take good care of her, Mr. Noire. Raise her well.”

“I’ll do the best that I can, but I doubt she’ll ever be what the Empire considers a ‘model citizen’. I’m a thief, not a nanny.”

Cain chuckled lowly as he turned to leave. “I would expect no less. You can keep the AIBs. They’re of no use to me now.”

“Wait!” Noire called hurrying after him. “She’s not chipped, is she?”

“Of course not,” Cain said, scowling back at him. “I’d never allow her to be sullied with Empire technology.”

Noire relaxed upon hearing this and held the girl closer to him. “Good.”

Cain continued on his way, waving his hand without even turning around. “Goodbye, Mr. Noire. If all goes well, we shouldn’t be seeing each other again any time soon.”

Noire watched Cain disappear into the darkness of the underground pipeline in which he’d made his home. He shut and locked the hatch once more before gazing down at the little girl in his arms. A gentle smile spread across his usually stern face as he touched the sleeping girl’s cheek with the back of his hand. “It’s good to see you again, Kira. You and I have a lot of work to do, don’t we?”

***************

I’m still working on the names of the technology I’m using in the book since this takes place 1000 years in the future (it’s going to be a challenge that will demand weeks of research). But if you guys have any ideas about futuristic technology and names of said technology, please leave them in the comments and if I like them I’ll include them in the series! Remember, if you enjoyed this, please like this post and I’ll post more chapters here. 🙂

 

For more fairy tale, Prince of Prophecy, and Writer’s Corner updates every Wednesday and Saturday, follow this blog!

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6 thoughts on “I’m not sure what to call this, but here we go!

  1. Pingback: Remember that thing I didn’t have a name for? Well, here’s chapter 1! | The Prince of Prophecy

  2. Pingback: Here’s chapter 2 of that book I haven’t named yet! | The Prince of Prophecy

  3. Pingback: Chapter 3 of the novel I haven’t named! Hurray!!! | The Prince of Prophecy

  4. Pingback: Here is chapter 4 of that sci-fi novel I haven’t named yet! | The Prince of Prophecy

  5. Pingback: Here’s chapter 5 of that sci-fi novel! This one’s gonna be rough… | The Prince of Prophecy

  6. Pingback: Chapter 6 of my new sci-fi novel! | The Prince of Prophecy

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