The Prosperine Trilogy: A Hickory Lace Adventure by P.J. McDermott (#0.5-2)
Requirements: ePUB Reader | 979 KB
Overview: P.J. McDermott lived in Scotland until he was twenty-five, working in factories, and on building sites, and earning pocket money as a performer on the folk club circuit and pub scene. As a mature-age student, he graduated with a Science degree from the University of Glasgow, met his future wife, and immigrated to Australia. He has two daughters and two seriously cheeky grandchildren.
Genre: Sci-Fi/Fantasy
The Second Coming (#0.5): In 2095, an ancient tomb is discovered. It contains a message for humanity that changes everything.
Avanaux (#1): 2149 AD, the planet Prosperine, Eridanus Constellation, twenty light years from Earth. Hickory Lace, recently reinstated to the rank of Commander in the Alien Corps, is assigned to investigate the Prosperine mystic known as The Teacher. The Corps has spent decades hoping to find evidence of the Son of God on remote planets, and The Teacher could be the proof they’ve been looking for. Hickory’s estranged father is an admiral in the Intragalctic Agency, a federation of planets with common trading interests. He has been negotiating with the Prosperine government for the sale of crynidium—a vital and rare ingredient of FTL travel. As part of the deal, the Prosperine leadership has asked the IA to help them contend with an upsurge of violence and the threat of revolution in the capital city of Ezekan. On their part, the IA have requested the assistance of Hickory, as they believe her unique empathic abilities might prove pivotal. Hickory and her team become embroiled in the local politics and discover that the rebel Pharlaxian faction have teamed up with a battalion of alien Bikashi soldiers supplied by the non-aligned planets who are intent on seizing the crynidium for themselves. The fate of the Earth and its allies is at risk. Hickory must find a way to prevent the revolution from being successful and at the same time determine where the Teacher stands in all this.
Rise of the Erlachi (#2): The sounds of war were muted and ghostly. The wails of the dying mingled with the triumphant shouts of the defenders and the Whump! Whump! of massive war catapults firing their deadly projectiles at the rebel forces. A screech penetrated the temple walls, unnerving Thurle crouched inside the secret room. He had witnessed the savagery of the initial Charakai attack and was relieved when his leader had ordered a retreat. The battle was lost, Sequana had told his soldiers, but the war would continue. Sequana himself had ordered Thurle to infiltrate the enemy lines and bring him the Sword. It was an honour he thoroughly deserved. After all, wasn’t it he who had revealed the secrets of the city defences that had almost led to their victory—would have led to their victory if it hadn’t been for the Earthling female? Before he had defected to the rebels, Thurle had memorised the underground pathways leading through the mountain and into the Temple of Balor. Now, he pushed gently at the wall in front of him and peered through the crack. Seeing no one, he pressed more firmly and slipped inside. He had been here many times, and normally there were supplicants and priests aplenty, but not today. No doubt, the priests would have gone to the walls to encourage the city militia to greater efforts, distributing amulets and giving blessings and absolution to the troops. A fire pit flickered in front of the altar, sending shadows to dance across the four faces of Balor, sculpted from the mountainside that formed one of the temple’s walls. Thurle’s heart rate slowed to normal. Quickly, he padded over to the grotto where the legendary heroine Connat-sèra-Haagar was immortalized, wielding a double-edged sword aloft while the dead and dying enemy lay before her in various postures of terror. He studied the statue. The figure was carved from stone, but the weapon glittered in the fire pit’s red light. He took a dagger from his belt and tried to prise it from the statue’s hand but to no avail. Drawing his sword, he slashed at the fingers. His sword ricocheted sending spasms of pain along his arm. Thurle was horrified. Sequana had assured him that stealing the sword was a command from Balor, but this felt like desecration. He mumbled a prayer, forgive me Balor, and brought his sword down with all his might. The statue’s arm shattered and the heroine’s sword fell in a shower of dust. He spread his cloak on the floor and wrapped the relic tightly, making sure not to touch the blade. Lifting it reverently, he bowed to the mutilated statue, then hurriedly retraced his steps and left the temple.
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