Noah and Hannah, a couple burdened by immortality, must flee the dying Earth to save their mortal family. Helped by friends, entangled with Noah and Hannah by lust and rivalry, they elbow other refugees aside and secure a spaceship to run for the stars. But every entrenched civilization, human, humanoids, and aliens, turns them away at the local equivalent of gunpoint. The fuel is dwindling. The AI captain goes mad. Only one planet, Paradise, a symbiotic society where every organism can read everyone else’s thoughts and desires, offers the refugees a frightful choice. Surrender your privacy in exchange for a blissful life, or perish in space.
Excerpt:
Chapter 1. Noah.
The Eye Snatchers come for us on the eve of my birthday, uninvited, while Hannah, Lada, and I are drinking warm Moët in our ruined bedroom. The Web is down, the air is toxic, and the power generator has a near-death experience.
Only Hannah and I are drinking. Lada can’t, even if she wanted to, and she doesn’t. We all know what she wants.
“I hate to diminish your enjoyment,” she says from the door, in the voice of a society lady that, for some reason, gradually slides to sound like a bouncer’s. “Nevertheless, I must remind you, gentlefolks, that if you miss the launch of Jake’s ship, your family and you are stuck on this Earth. Worse yet, I’ll be stuck, too. Forever. So, you guys, better plan how to get aboard on time and quit drinking this warm and expensive piss or you’d puke all over. Know what I mean?”
She can’t puke, but what she says still hurts. That would hurt coming from anyone. As if Hannah and I didn’t spend over a year trying to get our family off the dying planet. That has become the bane and boon of our existence. And we are about to succeed. And she knows that our fridge can’t work without electricity.
“No need to be gloomy on a day like today, Lada,” I say as evenly as I can. “We’ve done what we can. We can’t do anything else before they come here. Just relax and enjoy our company.”
“As you wish, boss,” Lada says.
“What should I give you for your birthday, Noah?” Hannah asks. “A uranite ring? I’d be able to find you in the dark.”
Hannah and I sit thigh-to-thigh on the couch, butt naked because it’s hotter than ever, and the AC can’t work without the power juice. Hannah’s short chestnut hair looks black in the dim light of the bedroom. She is four years younger than me, but looks half her age.
“Uranite is ugly and radioactive,” Lada says. “Even I wouldn’t wear it. It would hurt my sensitive insides.”
“Lada, please!” Hannah looks annoyed. “Don’t critique my jokes! Mercy!”
“Okay, ladies,” I say. “No arguments, please. Let’s celebrate. But let’s keep our weapons close and loaded.”