Greetings all! Exile, Book One of The Dark Mirror Trilogy releases in 2 weeks, and today I'd like to share Chapter 1 with you for free!
Don't forget that you can also get Darkness, the prequel short story, for free at BookFunnel.
Enjoy!
Chapter 1
“Kuiper Station,” Addison said.
The words altered the gravity in the room. Her reflection stared back at her from the blackened glass of the office wall: pale, sharp-eyed, and too young to already be tired in ways rest, sleep, and meditation could never fix.
It was six o’clock on a Friday evening, the worst possible time to end a career. Outside the tinted windows of the Space Authority headquarters, Houston glowed in fractured bands of gold and steel. The mid-spring sun hammered against the slitted, built-in blinds, bleeding through in thin, surgical lines of light that cut across the dark-paneled office. Inside, the enhanced climate system exhaled recycled cold air with mechanical indifference, raising gooseflesh on Addison’s arms despite the heat shimmering outside. She sat stiffly in one of the Authority’s ergonomic chairs across from the man who had once convinced her that science still mattered.
Zane Cleabold looked down at his desk, tapping his old college ring against the polished wood. The sound was soft but relentless, a nervous metronome counting down the seconds until this stopped being a conversation and became an executed decision.
“I’m sorry, Addison, but it’s for the best,” he said.
A harsh laugh escaped her before she could stop it. She brushed a strand of silky dark-brown hair out of her face, the motion sharp, almost defensive. “Why does everybody think they know what’s best for me?” Her voice echoed faintly off the walls, dampened by sound-absorbing panels hidden behind the wood. “I can decide for myself, and I don’t see how my research will do any better at Kuiper Station than it will at main headquarters.” She leaned forward. “Unless the executive branch has a special interest in keeping it away from Earth.”
Zane finally looked up. Sunlight framed him from behind, outlining his shoulders in a false halo as he folded his hands on the desk. “You’re interested in spatial distortions, and Kuiper Station is becoming the front line of that research. Out there, you’ll have faster access to raw data, clearer sensor arrays, and none of the signal lag you fight every day from Earth.” His voice was measured, diplomatic. Too rehearsed. “It would allow you to figure out what happened to the object more efficiently than you ever could from an Earth-based observatory,” he continued.
Addison narrowed her blue eyes. “A discovery that vanished in the heliopause, and was publicly discredited within forty-eight hours.”
Zane leaned back in his chair, the leather sighing beneath the weight of his medium frame. “I did all I could, but you broke the news too soon. You should have done more verification before publishing.”
Her chair scraped faintly as she straightened, pulling herself as tall as her five-foot-two frame would allow. “I should have researched it more?” Her voice trembled not with fear, but with something closer to rage. “You were eager enough to put your name on that paper when we discovered the radio wave had linguistic structure.” She jabbed a finger toward the desk. “Now it’s disappeared, and suddenly you want distance.”
“It’s been six months since we detected anything,” Zane said quietly. “You have to face the facts. It’s gone.” He sighed. “Whatever it was isn’t what we thought.”
“Nothing went wrong,” Addison shot back. “Something unexpected happened, and instead of supporting me, everyone turned on me.”
“It’s a failure,” Zane said.
She leaned back, crossing her arms. “Doesn’t fail mean ‘first attempt at learning’?”
Silence stretched between them, thick as a vacuum.
“It’s there,” she continued. “I know it is. Something is happening in the heliopause. You and the rest of the Space Authority are too eager to pretend otherwise.” She leaned forward again. “Are you hiding something, or are you scared?”
“Scared of what?” Zane stood, pacing toward the window. “What we thought was an alien structure turned out to be nothing more than a rogue Kuiper Belt object. A rock. An anomaly.”
“Anomalies don’t just vanish. Some sign or trace is always left.”
“They do when the data is flawed.”
She sank back into her chair, disbelief tightening her chest. “This isn’t like you, Zane. What’s really happening? Are you under pressure from above?”
“No,” he snapped, then softened his tone. “You’re protecting your research. I understand that, but I can’t help you anymore.”
The words landed harder than any accusation. Addison paled. “What happened to ‘our research.’”
Zane ceased his pacing and stared out of the window. “Some theories are right. Some are wrong. This one is wrong. Let it go.” He gestured toward the polluted sky and the dying planet below. “There’s plenty out there—an infinite universe. You aren’t done; you just need to expand your focus. There’s more than just this. Look elsewhere, and I’m sure you’ll find something equally fascinating and groundbreaking.”
“Look elsewhere?” Addison asked quietly. “Casually throw away fifteen years of work, undone by a viral smear campaign? That’s how you mentor me now?”
“You don’t need a mentor anymore, Addison. You can stand on your own.” Zane paused. “Besides, you know that smear campaign was Space Solutions. They undermine our work for profit. Astronomers are easy targets. We’ve seen it so many times that it’s become cliché.”
“And I just became another cliché to the Space Authority,” she muttered. “It may seem trite to you, but it’s a betrayal to me. I didn’t realize that I was disposable.”
He turned back to her. “The best minds don’t stay Earthside anymore. The infrastructure is collapsing. Up there—on the stations and the colonies—it’s stable.”
“Because robots run it,” she said.
“Because AI is building the future instead of trying to save a dead world.”
She almost smiled. Almost. “When were you planning to tell me you’re moving headquarters to Europa?”
Zane froze.
She pulled her phone from her pocket, the screen casting cold light across the room as a synthetic anchor recited the headlines in a polished metallic voice.
“Dr. Zane Cleabold, newly appointed Head of Interstellar Astronomy, announced yesterday thatthe Space Authority's main headquarters are moving to Europa with the full support of the World Government, in six weeks. This is the latest in a string of relocations due to the government mandate to move interstellar research off Earth to more appropriate interstellar facilities so planetary resources can be directed to the ‘New Eden’ project that will restore the Earth to its intended integrity.”
Zane looked away, carefully taking a seat at his desk.
“It broke an hour ago,” Addison said. “You probably should have fired me this morning.”
“It’s not a termination, it’s a contract transfer,” he insisted.
She stood so fast her chair toppled backward. Her phone slipped from her fingers, striking the plush carpet with a dull thud as she slammed her palms against the desk. “Space Solutions bought an engineering firm that they plan to farm out across the solar system, with the head engineer being transferred to Kuiper Station this morning,” she said. “And now I’m reassigned to a station where very place that discredited me is establishing a major interest. Why would they do that? Why would they target me specifically, and then swipe up my contract as soon as they invest in research on Kuiper Station?”
Zane looked up at her. “You don’t understand. There are bigger forces—”
“You leaked the data,” she said. “You buried the truth. You sacrificed me.”
The room felt smaller now, the walls closing in.
“You were my mentor,” she said, her voice breaking. “Now you’re nothing more than a technocratic politician.”
Zane sagged back into his chair. “Earth is done with us,” he said quietly. “They don’t want saving.”
Addison crossed her arms. “Congratulations, Zane. You made it to the top of the Space Authority, and you’ve sacrificed everything to do it. I hope it’s worth it.”
She turned, each step echoing down the hall beyond the sealed door.
The future waited beyond Earth’s gravity well, and she would reach it alone.
Don't forget that you can also get Darkness, the prequel short story, for free at BookFunnel.
Enjoy!
Chapter 1
“Kuiper Station,” Addison said.
The words altered the gravity in the room. Her reflection stared back at her from the blackened glass of the office wall: pale, sharp-eyed, and too young to already be tired in ways rest, sleep, and meditation could never fix.
It was six o’clock on a Friday evening, the worst possible time to end a career. Outside the tinted windows of the Space Authority headquarters, Houston glowed in fractured bands of gold and steel. The mid-spring sun hammered against the slitted, built-in blinds, bleeding through in thin, surgical lines of light that cut across the dark-paneled office. Inside, the enhanced climate system exhaled recycled cold air with mechanical indifference, raising gooseflesh on Addison’s arms despite the heat shimmering outside. She sat stiffly in one of the Authority’s ergonomic chairs across from the man who had once convinced her that science still mattered.
Zane Cleabold looked down at his desk, tapping his old college ring against the polished wood. The sound was soft but relentless, a nervous metronome counting down the seconds until this stopped being a conversation and became an executed decision.
“I’m sorry, Addison, but it’s for the best,” he said.
A harsh laugh escaped her before she could stop it. She brushed a strand of silky dark-brown hair out of her face, the motion sharp, almost defensive. “Why does everybody think they know what’s best for me?” Her voice echoed faintly off the walls, dampened by sound-absorbing panels hidden behind the wood. “I can decide for myself, and I don’t see how my research will do any better at Kuiper Station than it will at main headquarters.” She leaned forward. “Unless the executive branch has a special interest in keeping it away from Earth.”
Zane finally looked up. Sunlight framed him from behind, outlining his shoulders in a false halo as he folded his hands on the desk. “You’re interested in spatial distortions, and Kuiper Station is becoming the front line of that research. Out there, you’ll have faster access to raw data, clearer sensor arrays, and none of the signal lag you fight every day from Earth.” His voice was measured, diplomatic. Too rehearsed. “It would allow you to figure out what happened to the object more efficiently than you ever could from an Earth-based observatory,” he continued.
Addison narrowed her blue eyes. “A discovery that vanished in the heliopause, and was publicly discredited within forty-eight hours.”
Zane leaned back in his chair, the leather sighing beneath the weight of his medium frame. “I did all I could, but you broke the news too soon. You should have done more verification before publishing.”
Her chair scraped faintly as she straightened, pulling herself as tall as her five-foot-two frame would allow. “I should have researched it more?” Her voice trembled not with fear, but with something closer to rage. “You were eager enough to put your name on that paper when we discovered the radio wave had linguistic structure.” She jabbed a finger toward the desk. “Now it’s disappeared, and suddenly you want distance.”
“It’s been six months since we detected anything,” Zane said quietly. “You have to face the facts. It’s gone.” He sighed. “Whatever it was isn’t what we thought.”
“Nothing went wrong,” Addison shot back. “Something unexpected happened, and instead of supporting me, everyone turned on me.”
“It’s a failure,” Zane said.
She leaned back, crossing her arms. “Doesn’t fail mean ‘first attempt at learning’?”
Silence stretched between them, thick as a vacuum.
“It’s there,” she continued. “I know it is. Something is happening in the heliopause. You and the rest of the Space Authority are too eager to pretend otherwise.” She leaned forward again. “Are you hiding something, or are you scared?”
“Scared of what?” Zane stood, pacing toward the window. “What we thought was an alien structure turned out to be nothing more than a rogue Kuiper Belt object. A rock. An anomaly.”
“Anomalies don’t just vanish. Some sign or trace is always left.”
“They do when the data is flawed.”
She sank back into her chair, disbelief tightening her chest. “This isn’t like you, Zane. What’s really happening? Are you under pressure from above?”
“No,” he snapped, then softened his tone. “You’re protecting your research. I understand that, but I can’t help you anymore.”
The words landed harder than any accusation. Addison paled. “What happened to ‘our research.’”
Zane ceased his pacing and stared out of the window. “Some theories are right. Some are wrong. This one is wrong. Let it go.” He gestured toward the polluted sky and the dying planet below. “There’s plenty out there—an infinite universe. You aren’t done; you just need to expand your focus. There’s more than just this. Look elsewhere, and I’m sure you’ll find something equally fascinating and groundbreaking.”
“Look elsewhere?” Addison asked quietly. “Casually throw away fifteen years of work, undone by a viral smear campaign? That’s how you mentor me now?”
“You don’t need a mentor anymore, Addison. You can stand on your own.” Zane paused. “Besides, you know that smear campaign was Space Solutions. They undermine our work for profit. Astronomers are easy targets. We’ve seen it so many times that it’s become cliché.”
“And I just became another cliché to the Space Authority,” she muttered. “It may seem trite to you, but it’s a betrayal to me. I didn’t realize that I was disposable.”
He turned back to her. “The best minds don’t stay Earthside anymore. The infrastructure is collapsing. Up there—on the stations and the colonies—it’s stable.”
“Because robots run it,” she said.
“Because AI is building the future instead of trying to save a dead world.”
She almost smiled. Almost. “When were you planning to tell me you’re moving headquarters to Europa?”
Zane froze.
She pulled her phone from her pocket, the screen casting cold light across the room as a synthetic anchor recited the headlines in a polished metallic voice.
“Dr. Zane Cleabold, newly appointed Head of Interstellar Astronomy, announced yesterday thatthe Space Authority's main headquarters are moving to Europa with the full support of the World Government, in six weeks. This is the latest in a string of relocations due to the government mandate to move interstellar research off Earth to more appropriate interstellar facilities so planetary resources can be directed to the ‘New Eden’ project that will restore the Earth to its intended integrity.”
Zane looked away, carefully taking a seat at his desk.
“It broke an hour ago,” Addison said. “You probably should have fired me this morning.”
“It’s not a termination, it’s a contract transfer,” he insisted.
She stood so fast her chair toppled backward. Her phone slipped from her fingers, striking the plush carpet with a dull thud as she slammed her palms against the desk. “Space Solutions bought an engineering firm that they plan to farm out across the solar system, with the head engineer being transferred to Kuiper Station this morning,” she said. “And now I’m reassigned to a station where very place that discredited me is establishing a major interest. Why would they do that? Why would they target me specifically, and then swipe up my contract as soon as they invest in research on Kuiper Station?”
Zane looked up at her. “You don’t understand. There are bigger forces—”
“You leaked the data,” she said. “You buried the truth. You sacrificed me.”
The room felt smaller now, the walls closing in.
“You were my mentor,” she said, her voice breaking. “Now you’re nothing more than a technocratic politician.”
Zane sagged back into his chair. “Earth is done with us,” he said quietly. “They don’t want saving.”
Addison crossed her arms. “Congratulations, Zane. You made it to the top of the Space Authority, and you’ve sacrificed everything to do it. I hope it’s worth it.”
She turned, each step echoing down the hall beyond the sealed door.
The future waited beyond Earth’s gravity well, and she would reach it alone.
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