New World Read online

  Contents

  Title

  Copyright

  Books By Nathan Hystad

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  THE ANCIENTS - THE SURVIVORS BOOK FOUR

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  BY

  NATHAN HYSTAD

  Copyright © 2018 Nathan Hystad

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Cover art: Tom Edwards Design

  Edited by: Scarlett R Algee

  Proofed and Formatted by: BZ Hercules

  Books By Nathan Hystad

  The Survivors Series

  The Event

  New Threat

  New World

  The Ancients

  Red Creek

  Follow Nathan’s Newsletter here for book release information and special giveaways

  ONE

  The familiar hum of the FTL drive stopped as Mary pulled us out of hyperdrive. I was mentally prepared, but after traveling across our system toward Proxima for the last two months, the smallest noise difference caught me off-guard.

  “Scan the area,” I said, and Slate went to work on his console, looking for anything that would show up on our sensors. We’d elected to pull up short of the colony planet, in case there were any surprises waiting for us. If the Bhlat were there, or some other complication cropped up, we wanted to be aware of it before we were detected. “Stay cloaked.”

  We were at least six hours away, at our in-system speed: a stroll into our new home to get our bearings of the area.

  “Slate, you’re telling us that all the press about Proxima b being inhabitable was a lie?” Clare asked once again.

  The big man nodded. “General Heart said it was a backup plan. We had probes sent to all the corners of space we could.”

  “Where’d they get that technology?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Beats me. I don’t think the general NASA employees knew about them.”

  A shiver ran down my spine. Government conspiracies about space were nothing new, but FTL satellite probes being sent to the far reaches of the universe? That sounded suspiciously like alien technology to me.

  “The stories about the atmosphere being too weak to sustain human life?” Clare prompted.

  “I don’t know much; I’m just a soldier. Heart said it was a bunch of bull set up between the leaders of the science community and the governments. They had top-secret meetings about all sorts of things: Mars colonies, liveable stations, Proxima, and countless others,” Slate said, still scanning the area, this time casting his net wider as he zoomed out on his console’s map.

  “They’ve made elaborate space stations, but not without help from our Kraski databases. I wonder how they expected to do them prior to the Event?” Clare asked, ever curious about anything to do with engineering.

  I sank back into my chair, seeing the back of Mary’s head at the helm as she guided us through the system. The viewscreen showed us nothing but space. Proxima’s star hung in the distance, a red-hot omen. A star can mean life or death. It depends how you use it. The old words from my father came to mind. Where he’d gotten that saying was beyond me, but he’d used the reference to tell me that not everything was black and white.

  “The video we saw of New Spero looked like paradise,” Nick said, walking onto the bridge, holding a cup of coffee. We were running low on a few supplies, but coffee was still prevalent. One of life’s small miracles.

  “For all we know, that’s also a lie Earth’s telling. Maybe they didn’t even make it there.” I said the words but didn’t believe them. If Magnus, Natalia, and Carey hadn’t made it there, I had no idea what we would do. They were the goal at the end of the journey, and I hoped they were still there with open arms. It had only been a few months for us, but I missed them fiercely, especially my little furry buddy. Seven years for them. A lot could change in seven years.

  “Then it’s a good thing we’re sneaking in,” Slate said. His vote had been for stealth, and I had to agree. To fly straight into a potential trap would be foolish.

  “Maybe we should have tried to contact them,” Mary said.

  “We discussed this. If New Spero is there, General Chen and President Naidoo would have told them of our arrival. And I suspect it wasn’t a message to greet us with medals.” I stood up and started to pace around the bridge. It felt good to get some blood flowing through my body. I could almost feel the hybrid plasma still inside me. Mae’s blood… no. Janine’s blood. The urge to hit the onboard gym coursed through me, but instead, I strode back and forth like a caged animal at the zoo.

  “Boss, sensors are picking up something,” Slate said as the lights started to flash red, a warning klaxon echoing in time with each flash.

  I crossed the room to stand behind Slate, seeing a blip appear on the screen, then another, and another. Soon there were six of them surrounding us, each a few hundred kilometers away.

  “Looks like we weren’t as sneaky as we thought. Any way to tell if they’re ours?” I asked, proud my voice didn’t convey the nerves I was really feeling.

  Clare went to work on her console, and in less than ten seconds, she had an answer for me. “They’re not doing anything to hide their IDs. They aren’t in our database, but they’re using the same number format as our ship, and the ones from Earth’s base. They’re ours.”

  “Can we contact them?” I asked.

  “Message arriving. In audio,” Clare said.

  “Uncloak the ship, deactivate your weapons, and follow along. Do not attempt to contact us. There is no negotiating this.” The message ended. Clare played it again.

  “Do we know that voice?” I asked, trying to put a finger on it. It was a man’s voice, but the message was so monotone, the Deltras’ lack of inflection came to mind.

  “It could be Heart,” Mary said. “Dean, are we going to obey?”

  What choice did we have? Something felt off about the whole thing, but if we tried to run, where would we go – if they didn’t blow us to smithereens on the way out? “Do what they ask.”

  She nodded and soon we were visible to the outside world, weapons off, and flying toward Proxima b, or as our people were calling it, New Spero. I only hoped our new world was a friendly one.

  It was a nerve-racking hour later that they sent another message. We tried to stay calm and keep the speculation to a minimum, since we couldn’t control what was going to happen to us. The planet had come into view some time ago, and with every minute, it grew larger on our viewscreen. The message alert came as we spotted the station hovering in space
over the planet. It was much smaller than the one near Earth, but along the same design.

  “Play the message, please,” I said to Clare, who tapped the console, and we heard the same clipped-speech voice over the speakers.

  “Follow the lead ship to dock. We’ve reached our destination.”

  “I don’t like this,” Slate said. “If they led us planetside, I’d feel better about it. Up here, they can do anything to us, and no one down there” – he pointed to the floor – “would ever know.”

  He made a good point. We didn’t have many options. Either we complied or we made a run for it, leaving the system or heading for the surface. Any of those options could get us killed. Mary looked at me, eyes hard, and there was only one real answer. “We follow them in. We haven’t done anything, and if this is the colony, like we think it is, they’ll know us and listen to our story.”

  Slate’s eyes still burned, but he didn’t push his opinion any further.

  “Going in.” Mary eased the ship behind them, and five minutes later, she was entering a docking station on the far bottom of the station.

  Slate was heading for the storage room already. I knew what he was doing and wasn’t sure if I should stop him. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. What was the answer? I saw Mae fall, her wound instantly fatal, and Slate’s massive form there. Target down. I went after him.

  “Slate, we can’t go in guns blazing,” I said, catching him strapping a pulse pistol to his calf.

  “No, but we can be prepared for anything. Being prepared keeps us alive.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. The rest of the crew made their way to the bay. Mary stood there, arms crossed and a frown creasing her forehead. “I’m with Slate. Let’s at least have something to give us a chance.”

  I nodded solemnly. Even though they looked to me to lead them for some reason, I wasn’t a dictator, and they were probably right. “Small weapons. They’ll most likely take them from us anyway, but it can’t hurt to be cautious.” Everyone concealed some sort of weapon: me a knife, and even Nick, who used to be scared of handling a gun, pocketed a pistol with confidence. Two months on a small ship, and we were all trained and more fit than we’d ever been, thanks to time and Slate’s willingness to teach us.

  “They’re waiting, I imagine,” Clare said, standing near the ramp. We hadn’t lowered it yet.

  “Let’s make them wait another minute,” I said, suddenly feeling like we should have made a break for the planet. If they knew who we were, Dalhousie would have sent a greeting party instead of the curt messages and show of power.

  It must have been five minutes before I nodded to Clare to hit the icon, lowering the ramp. She looked relieved as it sank to the floor of the hangar.

  “I’ll go first,” I said, Mary holding my hand and walking up front with me. Slate stuck close behind, always on alert. We walked down the ramp, our boots clanging on the metal. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected, but it wasn’t what we found. At least twenty guards in black uniforms greeted us, and instead of handshakes and hugs, we had pulse rifles in our faces.

  “Stand down,” I whispered to my crew through clenched teeth. I raised my hands in the air, and the rest of the team followed suit. “Who’s in charge here?” I asked the soldiers.

  “I am,” a voice echoed from the far end of the room, but we couldn’t make out a face past all of the guns still pointed at us. Footsteps clinked on the floor, and in a minute, the guards were stepping out of the way, making a path for their leader. When he arrived, I was surprised to see I didn’t recognize the man. Seven years was long enough for a shift in power.

  He stood there, not speaking as he silently assessed us. The man was wearing a suit, tie included, a fashion I didn’t expect us to hold on to on a colony planet. His black hair was slicked, and his dark pupils judged us through a squint. I instantly didn’t like him.

  “Come with me,” he said, turning his back on us. No questions, no patting down, just an order; not that we had a choice, with twenty weapons pointed at us.

  “What do you think?” I asked Slate behind me.

  “We do what he says,” Slate replied softly, “for now.”

  I stepped forward, and we followed the man, twenty feet behind him, until we were out of the hangar. From there, only three guards continued on the trip with us, the rest presumably staying behind to watch our ship. I had the urge to go back and raise our ship’s ramp, but I knew if they wanted in, they would get in.

  The halls we were in were built to be corridors only; they were just metal studs and support beams, visible wiring running through them. Nick must have been dragging behind, because we heard a grunt from him, and I turned to see the rear guard shoving him with a gloved hand. This wasn’t what I’d expected our arrival at Earth’s first colony to look like.

  Nick and I made eye contact, and I moved my head a bit to the side, to tell him to hurry and let it go. I’m not sure if it translated, but his gaze went to the ground and his feet sped up.

  The lead guard stopped as their leader entered a sliding door to the right. I followed him in and found myself in a large open space, with tables and chairs like my university accounting classroom. It felt out of place here.

  The man sat down at a table near the front of the room. It had stools all the way around it: one for each of us, and an extra. They hadn’t known how many of us there were. That might have been a good sign.

  We each took a seat, with me closest to the man in the suit. It felt like five minutes before he spoke but was probably only thirty seconds. “Why did you come here?”

  It was a simple question, but one that felt loaded in many different ways. “We came to see our friends.” The answer was short, but the truth.

  He nodded to that. “And just who are your friends? We have a lot of people here on New Spero.”

  “General Heart. President Dalhousie.” I almost smiled when I saw his eyes go wide at my reply, but I kept my composure. I was going to be a better poker player than him.

  “Interesting choice of friends. Here’s what I do know. We received a message from World President Naidoo a while ago. Apparently, you threatened her and were in possession of a genocidal weapon. When confronted, you escaped and ran here.”

  “Then did she tell you who we are?” Mary asked, obviously getting tired of this charade. I didn’t blame her.

  He nodded once again, more slowly this time. “She did tell us who you claimed to be, but it’s impossible. Those Heroes of Earth are long dead. The Bhlat sent Naidoo video evidence. They attempted to attack an outpost of the Bhlat and were expunged from space for their efforts. That leaves me with some questions. Where did you get this ship? Did you steal it from the old base in America? Why take the most famous,” he paused, “or infamous people on Earth to imitate?”

  I was getting tired of it too. “Listen here” – I motioned for him to say his name, but he didn’t – “fella. I don’t know what the Bhlat showed Naidoo, but it wasn’t us dying, and frankly, I don’t give a crap about your power trip, or whatever this is. Let me speak with General Heart or President Dalhousie, and let me speak to them now.” I tried to keep the anger out of my voice, but it was impossible to conceal.

  “You keep saying those names, but I’m sorry to say, neither of them can help you now.”

  “Then I want to talk to Magnus Svenson.” I said the name slowly.

  He didn’t hesitate. “I’m afraid that’s not possible either.”

  “Why? Why is that not possible?” Mary asked. “If you claim we aren’t the Heroes of Earth, then let’s bring the other two up here, and let them identify us.”

  He shook his head. “I’m under orders to hold you for your crimes on Earth. Possession of alien weapons and conspiracy to murder the World President.”

  I stood up, fists against the wooden tabletop. “Wait a minute! We did nothing of the sort. We went to talk, and she was ready to kill us for that alien weapon you talk about. She’s already in bed with the Bhlat, wh
o’ll come and destroy every last person on Earth.”

  “That’s what anyone would say to save their own skin.” His words were firm, but fear escaped his eyes. Hearing that she was working with the Bhlat probably sent some alarm bells ringing, especially after already knowing she had video from them. What was their arrangement? The man stood, and Slate moved between him and the doorway. The rest of the crew looked ready to spring into action, but I couldn’t let that happen yet. We were at a disadvantage.

  “Let him go, Slate,” I said, the fury leaving me with each breath.

  Slate stood firm, and the man had to go around him. I loved the power move by my large friend, but we weren’t in a position to intimidate either.

  The door slid open, and I spotted a few guards out in the hall with weapons in hand. We were being quartered here for the time being.

  “What the hell do we do now? Has this whole colony gone to shit?” I asked.

  “Maybe there’s been a regime change, or,” Mary stood, “the station is run by that slimy man, and he’s in Naidoo’s pocket. That would allow them to control who arrives, or who leaves the colony, with the surface never knowing.”

  It made sense. “I think you’re right. We need to get back to our ship and down to the planet.”

  “How do we do that with all of these guards around?” Clare asked.

  Slate had a twinkle in his eye as he came back to the table. “Do you all have your pins on?”

  We each felt our collars, where the small metal pins sat that would lift us to the ship if needed. “It looks like we do,” Mary said.

  “You know what that means, right?” Slate asked, and it clicked.

  “But how will we have enough time? They have ships at the ready,” Mary said.

  “Then we distract them. We have to get to the surface, and then we can straighten it all out,” I said, not fully believing my own words one hundred percent, but giving them a good chance. I looked around the space for signs of cameras or listening devices. They were undoubtedly watching us. I raised a finger to my lips in a “be quiet” gesture. We moved to the corner of the room that was most inhospitable. If any part of the room wasn’t bugged, it was that dark unfurnished corner.