Twins Cassidy and Torr must save Earth from a ruthless enemy at a time when the only force more powerful than alien technology is magic…

 

By Palmer Pickering

Chapter 2 – Miramar

San Diego California,
Western Free States, planet Earth

July 9, 2090                                                                                                                             

Something was not right with the air. There was a crackling
that Torr could only sense when he stopped breathing. An intermittent wave of
whispering, skin-tingling static. He lay on the platform inside the shadows of
the cement bunker and stared through his rifle scope at the Shaman’s Shield.
For three years the cloud barrier had stood between the Western Free States and
the Tegs. Torr had joined the Gaia United rebels at the southern border two
years ago, facing the massive wall every day. It soared up into the sky as
though it were a towering marble cliff or a plunging waterfall, five miles
high, stretching east to west far as the eye could see, shimmering like water
but solid as stone. As far as anyone could tell, it was a cumulonimbus cloud
made of ash from the volcanic mountains, held together by an unknown shamanic
magic. The scientists called it an electromagnetic force field, of a sort no
one had ever seen before. At its peak, the wall curved overhead, sealing them
in from above in a thick cloud cover. But today the southern wall had receded
from its normal position, exposing flat desert scrubland and skeletal bushes
coated in ash. Since dawn, dark, vertical shadows had appeared at the base of
the wall, as though some giant creature had attacked it overnight with long, jagged
claws.

Torr crawled forward and poked his head out through the open
front of the bunker half-buried in the hillside, and peered up at the sky. The
cloud barrier overhead still appeared intact; the sky was gray and gloomy as
ever, though it smelled like a storm was brewing. He pulled himself back inside
and settled down behind his gun, tightening its bipod and adjusting the sand
bag under the butt of the rifle. He inhaled deeply, held in his breath for
three seconds, then exhaled and held it out for three seconds, hoping the
breathing exercise would stop his cheek from twitching. It hadn’t bothered him
in months—now his left cheek was spasming non-stop. He could not shoot with it
jittering like that.

Inhale one two three.
Exhale one two three.

He glanced over his right shoulder at Reina, propped up on
her elbows on the plywood platform between him and the cement wall. She was
staring through her spotting scope. Her TAFT stood on its bipod next to her,
loaded and ready to mow down Tegs should they come streaming across the plain. Torr
wanted to die before she did; he didn’t think he could bear to watch her
suffer, or see her dead eyes staring up at him. It was a selfish thing to wish,
but he wished it anyway. Bobby, on the other hand, lying on the platform to his
left—two hundred pounds of solid muscle—he wouldn’t mind dying before Bobby.
Torr would lean into him as he died, and Bobby would tell him everything was
going to be all right, even though they both knew it wasn’t.

 

 

 

 

AUTHOR INTERVIEW – Palmer Pickering

Tell us what you enjoy most about writing science-fantasy?

Palmer: I most enjoy the world building. Science-fantasy is a crossover genre and has its challenges, but I have always loved stories that take us to another world, whether another planet or an imaginary kingdom. They are very similar if you think about it. Both are based on Earth terrain and civilizations, but at the same time can be very different. My brand of science-fiction is space or extraterrestrial science-fiction (versus other subgenres such as pandemics, mutants, cyber-hacking, techno-hybrid creatures, or what have you), so space opera is really just another flavor of world-building.

What have you found to be most challenging about writing science-fantasy?

Palmer: Not pissing off the hard science-fiction fans who sometimes dislike mixing science-fiction with fantasy, where you have to suspend belief and basically switch sides of the brain. It can be hard for scientists to be squishy about facts. But then again, lots of science starts with imagining possibilities and entertaining way-out theories. It’s been a fun challenge to tread that line between facts, possibilities, and outright magic. Even then, many of my magic systems are based in shamanic traditions, which some cultures swear are real. Who is to say?

Have you been able to incorporate your previous experience in jobs or education in your writing?

Palmer: Both in the science-fiction and fantasy aspects. My day job is an innovation manager in high-tech. I have spent years scouting start-ups and learning all about the latest technologies in various fields, then bringing some to market. On the fantasy side of things, I draw from a lot of mythologies, history, and spiritual traditions. I have studied some of the New Age and traditional shamanic practices, including energy healing (such as Reiki), remote viewing, herbal lore, etc. I also am certified in Acupressure, which is a hands-on healing technique in the same discipline as Acupuncture, with some differences.

Describe the Star Children Saga series in 10 words or less for people who are just learning about it.

Palmer: We are descended from an alien race from a lost planet across the galaxy. Was that ten? :-/

To date, what is your favorite (or most difficult) chapter you have ever written?

Palmer: In “Light Fighters,” there is a section that is particularly brutal and explicit, related to human trafficking and war crimes. I found it hard to write because I really did not want to dwell in such a traumatic space. However I thought it was important to write about something that is very prevalent and is a sickness in human society, historically as well as in present times.

What is your take on book boyfriends? Do they actually exist? Or do they set the bar for “real life men” impossibly high?

Palmer: Good one. This is the first time I have been asked this question. Hmmm. I think it’s actually the opposite. A good solid partner who is supportive and fun and caring and emotionally present, etc., probably does not make for a very dramatic or tension-filled story. So I prefer the boyfriend character in a book to be a bit more of a challenge than I would like in real life. I prefer that the book boyfriend almost break my heart (perhaps through no fault of his own but more from circumstances), and the real boyfriend to not almost break my heart. That said, the book boyfriend in a romance novel probably doesn’t need to deal much with paying bills or taking out the garbage or what have you. And he is no doubt always in phenomenal physical shape and remains the perfect age forever. So there’s that …

 

 

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