The sole survivor of a colony fleet wakes up in a white, featureless room. His only clue to his surroundings is an ever-changing window.
Is he dead? Is he dreaming? Or is he the subject of some bizarre experiment?
(Excerpt) Fuelled by fear of capture, Quinn fled through the city, still clad in the tight-fitting black suit of the Shanata. A pair of goat-like monstrosities regarded him, whispered in an unknown dialect, and then brayed like mad donkeys. Were they laughing at him?
The sky darkened, and a light rain shower slanted across his path. Lining the thoroughfare were huge projected images, each showing the head and shoulders of a grey, crinkly-eared creature with squinched slits where the eyes should have been. Symbols flowed down the right sides of the screens, and an incomprehensible voice boomed over the whiz and whine of traffic.
He hazarded a glance over his shoulder and saw no sign of his pursuers. The giant who’d saved him was also gone. Quinn’s pace slowed. On the roadway, a green-skinned group with stubby legs and potbellies shot past on motorised carts. There were no discernable lanes and no orderly movement of traffic. So far as he could tell, the city was one massive free-for-all.
A tall biped clumped past—spindly and covered in a kind of moss. It looked like a walking tree. Behind it waddled a collection of quadrupeds with wide, down-turned mouths, bumpy grey skin, and bulbous eyes in raised eye sockets. Quinn’s impulse was to stop and stare at everything and everyone, but he kept his head lowered. There seemed no end to the variety of species. Only a few days ago, he’d accepted the widely held human view that aliens were a myth. The galaxy had been an empty playground for humans to explore. Now, he was rubbing shoulders with more alien creatures than he could count. The universe had suddenly become a crowded, frightening place. How would humanity react when they discovered the truth?
Is he dead? Is he dreaming? Or is he the subject of some bizarre experiment?
(Excerpt) Fuelled by fear of capture, Quinn fled through the city, still clad in the tight-fitting black suit of the Shanata. A pair of goat-like monstrosities regarded him, whispered in an unknown dialect, and then brayed like mad donkeys. Were they laughing at him?
The sky darkened, and a light rain shower slanted across his path. Lining the thoroughfare were huge projected images, each showing the head and shoulders of a grey, crinkly-eared creature with squinched slits where the eyes should have been. Symbols flowed down the right sides of the screens, and an incomprehensible voice boomed over the whiz and whine of traffic.
He hazarded a glance over his shoulder and saw no sign of his pursuers. The giant who’d saved him was also gone. Quinn’s pace slowed. On the roadway, a green-skinned group with stubby legs and potbellies shot past on motorised carts. There were no discernable lanes and no orderly movement of traffic. So far as he could tell, the city was one massive free-for-all.
A tall biped clumped past—spindly and covered in a kind of moss. It looked like a walking tree. Behind it waddled a collection of quadrupeds with wide, down-turned mouths, bumpy grey skin, and bulbous eyes in raised eye sockets. Quinn’s impulse was to stop and stare at everything and everyone, but he kept his head lowered. There seemed no end to the variety of species. Only a few days ago, he’d accepted the widely held human view that aliens were a myth. The galaxy had been an empty playground for humans to explore. Now, he was rubbing shoulders with more alien creatures than he could count. The universe had suddenly become a crowded, frightening place. How would humanity react when they discovered the truth?