T. C. Archer. Well, this writing duo consists of myself, yep! And the very talented Evan Trevane. We write various forms of romance, with romantic sci-fi being a specialty, as Evan is a PhD. How funny is that? A male PhD writing romance. I slowly inched him over to the dark side. On his own, Evan writes hard sci-fi, and is amazingly good at it.
In honor of Christmas, we’re starting off with a short sci-fi Evan wrote, My First Christmas on Mars.
He’s a note from him.
This is the kind of story that just happened. I started out not writing a Christmas story and besides, who needs another holiday story when there are so many great ones out there. I got to the rocket's red glare and got stuck. A week later, the ending came to me and I thought it was good. You be the judge.
My First Christmas on Mars
I found myself wandering along Mars Station Alpha’s outer interconnects on Christmas Eve, 2062. It was my first Christmas away from home, and I missed my family, my friends. I stopped, leaned against the railing, and gazed at the main complex, the rim of my helmet resting on the transparent arc of the tube. Outside, a bleak Martian courtyard separated the tube I patrolled and the officer’s quarters. Nearly all the officers had decorated their cube with miniature plastic Christmas Trees, twinkling lights, or welcome candles. And me, a PFC bachelor consigned to the dormitory, didn’t have enough room for a spittoon, let alone lights or a tree. “Join the Rangers, see the System,” I recited. Yeah, four walls, 25 cubic feet of oxygen, and three squares a day.
Part of me was glad I volunteered to take Christmas duty, but the other part was disappointed I hadn’t planned anything enjoyable to take my mind off being away from home during the holidays. And so I strolled, making my rounds through the outermost connecting tubes that spanned the colony like the threads of a spider web.
The overhead lights flickered for a heartbeat then snapped to dim Martian red. Klaxons sounded. “General Quarters. General Quarters. DefCon Yoke,” blared over my radio.
Christmas lights, all lights, extinguished around the colony — Blackout Conditions. Hell, they wouldn’t have a drill on Christmas Eve. Not tonight. That would be cruel.
“Battle stations Gamma. This is not a drill.”
A knot gripped my gut as I flipped on my heads-up display.
A ghostly tactical map, scrolling ops-printout, and battle stats floated before my eyes. Thumbing the integrate control on my weapon, I cycled through battle plans on the display until I came to Gamma, and swore. My battle station was almost a kilometer away, through a maze of interconnects, junction modules, and cubes. To make matters worse, the gamma plan meant a space-borne threat and I was in a Plexiglas tube on the outskirts. All airtight doors designated X and Y would be closed and sealed by now.
Glancing left, then right at the junctions, I had no clear plan. One direction looked just as good as the other. I transmitted a command to plot the fastest route to my battle station. A warning light flashed. The connection to central command was down. Damnit, blackout meant no wireless too. Fear gelled in my gut. I didn’t have time for this.
I selected DefCon Yoke–Gamma on my portable, which gave me a canned route assuming the X-Ray and Yoke doors sealed in a gamma battle-plan scenario. A map flashed on the screen in front of my eyes. A green line traced my route and I broke out in a cold sweat. I had a serpentine path along the outside of the colony, almost entirely through interconnects–-exposed and vulnerable.
Shit. I un-slung my M-41 and ran, crouching, toward the east junction. Once there, I spun to survey the status lights on each door—three reds, one green. As the computer had predicted, the paths leading deeper into the colony were already locked down. Their status lights glowed red.
I hit the next two hundred meter long interconnect at a full run, no crouching this time. Since the threat was from space and the upper half of the tube was transparent, I was observable anyway.
The next junction was a sixer: six doors. I spun around. All but two were sealed, the one I had just come through and one leading further around the outside of the colony. Alarm Klaxons sounded again. Second alarm meant all doors would close. I lunged for the east tube, just clearing the hatch as it slammed shut. The clang of locks engaged. The status on both ends of the connecting tube switched to red. Trapped, my heart leapt into my throat. They only locked all the doors when the threat was immanent. I energized my M-41 and waited.
I searched the night sky. A point of light moved against the field of stars. Moving at great speed, the intruder brightened and blazed red. The ass end of a ship, rockets firing, breaking in a hard decent, seemed to point directly at me. No wonder the threat had developed so fast.
Hands slippery on my weapon, my heart hammered hard as I watched the craft make an arc across the sky, growing brighter by the second. I checked my armament load: 20 explosive rounds and 200 .30 cals.
I’m screwed.
My weaponry would do nothing against the Naug’s smallest shuttle. But if they exit their vehicles, I could take a few of those slugs with me.
I switched the M-41 over to grenade launcher and waited, praying they wouldn’t notice me there all alone. As the red glow brightened, the rest of the object shimmered burgundy in the reflected light. The object was a complex, articulating thing and didn’t match any Naug ship I had ever seen. I flipped down my binocular lenses and my heart stopped. All I could think about was the story by Clement Clarke Moore and how I was the one who threw up the sash.
Out in the sky flew a sleigh and eight tiny reindeer, with a ninth in front, his nose brilliant red. And to my astonishment, there was a tiny man riding in the open sleigh, dressed in a red spacesuit with bags of gifts piled high behind him. At that moment, my prayers changed. I wanted him to see me there, waving and grinning. I wanted to be the first one to welcome Old St. Nick to Mars Station 12.
Back to Evan—
On other news, we've just released For His Eyes Only, a romantic thriller that we hope will keep you guessing until the end, then leave you with the belief that there is love in the world.
A gunshot silenced jungle-chatter for a heart stopping instant. The bullet ripped nearby foliage as Jesse vaulted over the decaying trunk of a fallen corozo palm. She landed on the soft, sloping Columbian jungle floor and bolted to the right deeper into the foliage—and away from where her informant Martinez had been gunned down. She choked back anguish. He shouldn’t have run when mercenaries burst upon their meeting place. He had a young wife and child who would now have to go into hiding in order to avoid being tortured and killed by the Columbian drug lords in payment for his having aided an American spy.
She scrambled down the slope into a patch of dense undergrowth, pushed through vines and spider webs, and finally emerged on the bank of a slow moving stream. Sunlight streamed through a wide break in the canopy. Blue sky arched overhead in backdrop to dark green foliage. A satellite signal might be possible through the gap in the trees.
Jesse slowed to a crawl and concentrated past the red howler monkey screeches and parrot caws for footfalls or leaves rustling to indicate Martinez’s killers slinked through the foliage in search of her. Nothing.
She dropped to her knees, yanked open a pocket of her camouflage fatigues, and pulled out the secure satellite phone. She flipped it open, punched out home base’s ten-digit number, then pressed the receiver to her ear and held her breath until the first elongated ring began. By the third ring, her heart pounded so hard, the thud echoed in her ears.
“Come on. Pick up.” She tried to ignore the dribble of sweat trickling down the valley between her breasts as the fourth ring began.
What was wrong? HQ verified the source of incoming calls on the first ring and picked up on the second. She jerked the phone from her ear and squinted at the display. Five black bars along the left indicated a strong signal. She pressed the phone against her ear and shoved aside a lock of hair which had worked free of the brain numbingly tight ponytail. Why weren’t they—
“Designation, please,” came the operator’s voice.
“Control, this is Blue Delta Four.”
“Designation code?”
“Zebra, four, eight, two, seven, golf,” Jesse replied in a low voice.
“Confirmed, Delta Four. What is your status?”
“I am not at target. Must speak with Blue Leader.”
“Blue Leader is out of communication range.”
“Code blue,” Jesse hissed. “Get me Blue Leader Five.”
A click sounded on the line, a quick ring, then a male voice answered, “Delta Four, this is Green Leader. What’s happened?”
Jesse froze. Green Leader? Why had Robert Lanton intercepted her call? “Where is Blue Leader?” she demanded.
“Out of communication range. What’s happened?”
She hesitated.
“What is your status?” he asked.
She silently cursed, but gave in. “We have a leak. The Columbians knew about the meeting.”
Silence, then, “That’s impossible.”
“Negative, Green Leader. Repeat, they were waiting. Abort Operation Hangman.”
“What is your source?” he asked.
Her heart thumped harder with memory of Martinez lunging for the trees when the mercenaries rushed them. “M-2,” she replied with effort.
“How did M-2 obtain his information?”
She wondered the same thing. “I don’t know. Before he could confirm his source, the Columbians shot him. But he was scared, really scared. The leak has to be high up.” Anger, hot and hard, shot through her. Martinez’s life had been forfeit—and for nothing. “If that little girl dies because someone at HQ leaked the mission, I’ll kill—”
“Verify your designation code,” Green Leader cut in.
What? She’d never been asked to verify her identity a second time. The control operator had already verified her code. “Zebra, four, eight, two, seven, golf,” Jesse counted off.
An almost imperceptible pause followed, then, “That code is outdated, Delta Four. Give me your current verification.”
Outdated? Her mind whirled. “What the hell is this?”
“Current verification, Delta Four.”
“Get Blue Leader on the line right now, and put me through voice recognition,” Jesse ordered.
“Negative,” he replied. “Not without current verification.”
“Get the director on the line—now! Don’t send in Green Team until you’ve verified with him. The Columbians were waiting for us—they murdered M-2. They knew about our meeting. That confirms what he told me. The Columbians have intel on Operation Hangman. Our men will be slaughtered.”
The line went dead.
“Wha—”
Jesse yanked the phone from her ear and looked at the screen. Five bars of signal strength held strong. She punched the direct emergency number to Blue Leader. A fast busy signal resonated through the connection. She pressed the phone’s display button. The display blinked unavailable. The network—satellites, ground stations, handsets—had never, ever been unavailable. It was designed and built by the best to be always available. HQ had scrambled the access code.
Her heart went stone cold. Green Team was headed straight into the arms of the Columbian mercenaries.
Only two hours ago, she gave the go ahead to move in and rescue Maria Hamilton, Senator Hamilton’s daughter. Jesse hadn’t spotted any guerrillas hidden among the villagers, but she now knew they were there, just as they’d been there when she met with Martinez.
A slight breeze wafted past, cooling the sweat soaked shirt that clung to her back and sending a chill down her spine. She was Blue Team—recon—working solo. She should have smelled the trap. Yet she’d sent her team in to be murdered—unless…
Jesse drew a deep breath to slow her heart rate while visualizing the map of coastal Columbia. The village sat three kilometers to the south over a small but treacherous pass jungle pass. Forty people lived in the village, farmers—or so she’d thought. How many were mercenaries employed by Amadeo Perez, the most powerful drug lord in Columbia, and the man responsible for kidnapping Senator Hamilton's daughter?
Probably every last one of them.
NOW ON SALE FOR .99
We have two erotic romances to be released, as well as a paranormal/alternate history romance. Our sci-fi adventure will be publishing with Loose Id and will fit alongside Sasha's Calling on the bookshelf.
We're preparing to self-publish Sin Incarnate a story of a one-night-stand and 1000-year curse where beauty is timeless and fleeting.
Look for Chain Reaction, the first in our superhero stories set during WWII to be publsihed by Silver Publishing in February.
For love of country and a woman, Jordan Pierce must sacrifice his humanity.
Have you ever wondered how America kept the most crucial secret of World War II?
CP1 was the secret lab where scientists observed the first nuclear chain reaction. And where the Nazis sent their most dangerous spy.
For our giveaway, we're giving away two copies of For His Eyes Only. Post away! (What did you folks think of Evan's My First Christmas on Mars? I love sci-fi.)
0 COMMENTS
Fedora
13 years agoThat was fabulous, Evan! I love scifi, too, and you did a great job with some heart-pounding suspense as well! Looking forward to all your upcoming releases–I can see I'm going to be keeping my TBR piled high! 🙂
f dot chen at comcast dot net
Tarah Scott
13 years ago AUTHORHe’s a superb writer, isn’t he, Fedora?
Missy
13 years agoThat was very creative! Rudolph must have had his brights on to set off the alarm!
Great excerpt from For Your Eyes Only! Definitely makes me want to read on further! What an awesome price for the book, decent length also. Yep, going to have to get this one for sure.
Tarah Scott
13 years ago AUTHORGlad you enjoyed the short story and the excerpt, Missy.
Elaine Breault
13 years agoI forgot my email again
laineslite@gmail dot com
Tarah Scott
13 years ago AUTHORNP. We got you!
Evan Trevane
13 years agoThanks Fedora. I'm so glad you were caught up in it.
Missy, Rudolf was coming in hot. Santa has to be all over Earth and make to Mars in one night.
Michelle
13 years agoCute story!
Joder
13 years agoI'm a huge sci-fi fan and totally intrigued by the sound of this story. Thanks for the giveaway!
joderjo402 AT gmail DOT com
Evan Trevane
13 years agoThanks Michelle.
Needless to say, I'm a huge SciFi fan too, Joder.
Zee
13 years agoThanks for convincing Evan to come to the dark side. I love your work!
Tarah Scott
13 years ago AUTHORHeh heh. He swore he wouldn’t do it, Zee.
June M.
13 years agoI had no idea you were half of TC Archer, lol. I just realized this year that I like sci fi so I have been reading a few different authors who write in that genre. The more people that you can drag to the darkside, the happier I will be.
manning_j2004 at yahoo dot com
Tarah Scott
13 years ago AUTHORIsn’t the dark side great?
Evan Trevane
13 years ago(sound of heavy breathing)
Theresa Newbury
13 years agoHi, Evan. Nice story!
Lindsey E
13 years agoWell quite a way to welcome Christmas. Looking forward. To reading these stories.
Colleen C.
13 years agoI enjoyed the short sci-fi story… thank you for sharing it with us today… I have your book For His Eyes Only on my list of books I want to get my hands on…
Tarah Scott
13 years ago AUTHORGlad you enjoyed My First Christmas in Mars.
Denise Z
13 years agoI am so relieved that Santa made it to Mars Station 12. I am relieved. I was concerned he might have run into trouble in the nebula. Now we have to get Jesse cleared, so she can kick some traiter but! Happy Christmas, thanks for keeping me posted on Santa's progress 🙂
dz59001[at]gmail[dot]com
Tarah Scott
13 years ago AUTHORROFL. Right on, Denise!
Teresa Kleeman
13 years agoOh I so liked the Christmas on Mars. I so loved the surprise at the end with Santa. Had me really going on that. For His Eyes Only really sounds great. Merry Christmas.
Teresa K.
tcwgrlup41(at)yahoodotcom
Nikki
13 years agoThis books sounds fabulous!! LOL…I'm happy he made it to Mars too!! TOOO funny!!
viajeradelmar@aol.com
Shadow
13 years agoFor his eyes only sounds awesome! I love the excerpt! Its quite the teaser. 😉 And you have some great covers. Thanks for sharing! Merry Christmas!
shadowluvs2read(at)gmail(dot)com