ECHELON'S END©
Book 3:
Persisting On The Edge
By
E. Robert Dunn
To Keith Wilson… your artistic influence still flows!
Prologue:
“Where are we?”
“I have no idea. These stars aren’t on any chart that we have on record.”
A conversation that was nothing more than mere echoes from a time that seemed so far away as if resounding inside a vast catacomb of time that rebounded in his head. Unfamiliar stars of an unfamiliar ternary solar group spread away from him on all sides.
Ah! Life!
The meaning of life has been a philosophical and spiritual question concerning the significance of life or existence in general, thought Commander Capel Perezsire. He knew that it could also be expressed in different forms, such as "Why are we here?", "What is life all about?", and "What is the purpose of existence?" or even "Does life exist at all?"
These same questions came to mind as he looked out the un-shuttered bowport of the podship under his command. The landscape that held the grounded Pioneer 4 seemed to stare mockingly back at him as he pondered in his revere.
Life. It had been the subject of much philosophical, scientific, and theological speculation throughout terran history. There had been a large number of proposed answers to these questions from many different cultural and ideological backgrounds. None of those postulations soothed the commander’s restlessness.
The isolation from all that he had known was getting to him … and, the others. He could tell. Although an established Base Camp had served to center the lost crew on this ancient alien, impoverished world to a common goal – repair and relaunch of their podship – the absence of the United-Ka of their kindred had left an insatiable visceral void.
The combined white light of two middle-aged yellow dwarf stars and a red supergiant fell on the crash site, every so often its rays highlighted patches of the butternut dunes of an anonymous surface concealed by overhead clouds. Even though the panorama appeared as benign, the marooned Aidennians captured here knew from months of surviving it to be an inhospitable world; one where geological sensors had detected a wealth of vital mineral supplies.
The planet taketh away, and also giveth …
Dark-haired, optimistic and usually cheerful, Perezsire leaned forward to study the readings on the complex array of holographic meters projected from the command apse’s main flight engineering boards. He made one or two adjustments to the controls, slowly checking in on the podship’s regeneration programs. Progress was slow, but on schedule.
Cold, unwelcoming Space beckoned the crew of the podship back to their original destination…
A flash of light out the curved, sectional bowport diverted the male’s attention away from the photonic images to the real time of a distance pinnacle belonging to the crater rim that crescent around Base Camp. An antrorse billow of magma-generated smoke funneled, the deckplates shivered.
Suddenly superimposed over the exterior tableau, Capel held the reflection of a lean, feminine figure walking bouncily toward him from the flight deck’s rear quarterdeck. It was Medical Commander Dara Lidasiress, chief medical officer and his spouse. She was waving and smiling broadly at him. She had come to take him to a SitRep meeting.
Perezsire glanced again at the world held like a terrarium before him. The fruits and waters of the planet were edible and refreshing to eat. The Pioneer 4 was intact and sound – its alloys had suffered no fatigue or decay as a result to the podship’s forced landing. There did not seem to be much wisdom in returning to an existence which was even more hostile to their survival than the one they had fallen onto. Back to a journey that seemed condemned having them wander the spaceways forever, to the infinite deep that stretched from the shore of the spiral arms of the galaxy and would surely devour them.
As Perezsire and Dara embraced one another warmly, the commander’s eyes looked around, curiously, testing, to see whether, after all, they could settle on the new world.
“Above Critical”
CHAPTER ONE:
"For a planet capable of such violent mood changes," Lieutenant Retho Capelsire said to the crew’s exec staff, "it is extraordinarily Aidennia-like."
The bodies around the Observatory/Ready Room’s conference table shifted slightly. Commander Capel Perezsire leaned intently on the polished top of the room's desk from behind which he sat. His form trim inside the gold and black colored uniform he wore. His eyes were as dark and unyielding as granite, his gaze, though superficially warm, only barely concealed a cold, distant cast that resembled the stare seen in the eyes of soldiers.
"Explain," he said.
"For example, this area we are in is arid, hot and dry; the terrain surrounding Base Camp resembles one of Aidennia's desert expanses." Retho moved away from the desk and over to a CommWall display's holo-set. "Computer, present reconnoiter Space scan 4409-11."
The dark interface chimed and then illuminated with a three-dimensional planetary representation. It was a pale world, veiled in a swirling, changing tracery of clouds. There were isolated clumps of greenery that revealed the sparse vegetation outcrops that girdled the orb. Patches of blue telltaled the location of water reserves; however, two-thirds of the surface was covered by land. Its topography resembled that of a moon with some sections of cindery, dusty plains extending in all directions, their surfaces marred by deep cracks and broken ridges. Thousands of craters, some caused by meteors, some by ancient volcanoes, covered the majority of the planet's surface. Besides the craters and plains, the planet had mountain ranges with peaks three, four, and five kiloretems high. The sphere was veiled because the replicated enveloping atmosphere was in constant motion, simulating the interaction between land and water.
The crew’s Syntheform, BeeTee, stepped away from Lieutenant Commander Moela Darasiress and over to be beside Retho, saying as it approached the displayed hologram, "As you can see, Commander, the scan shows that this planet is typical of others. It has continents consisting of mountain ranges of several different ages found in linear belts around the margins of the continents. They are intensely folded and faulted and contain a variety of sedimentary, igneous, and metamorphic rocks."
"This planet has an estimated 1,500 volcanoes," Moela mentioned from where she leaned against the view-portal wall. The afternoon sunslight silhouetted her shapely form picturesquely as it streamed through the bank of floor to mid-ceiling viewports. “They are concentrated in narrow belts in a 'ring of fire' around the western hemisphere's primary ocean. Of these, 10 are supervolcanoes.”
"What other planetary data have you been able to collect and analyze?" Capel asked, readjusting his position in his chair as he propped his elbows on the desktop for support. His face was set and eyes were piercing as he looked expectantly at the away team.
BeeTee, Retho, and Moela had just returned from a two-week survey on analyzing the environment. The future of the crew depended on whether or not the planet had become hostile or hospitable since the planetary shield collapse. This report would set boundaries and priorities in the Pioneer's repair forecast.
"The inland seas are both fresh and salt water, Commander," BeeTee replied.
Tabbing a contact point on the CommWall's interface with one of its metallic fingers changed the global hologram to one that magnified the main features of the planet's surface. A cross-section of a near-by ocean floor was in the foreground.
"This is from a pre-crash orbital scan,” the AI-automaton went on reporting. “As you can see, the mid-ocean ridge forms a global network of submarine mountain chains, twenty-five thousand mets long and some reaching above the ocean’s surface to the total height of eighteen thousand mets. Rift valleys, transform faults, shallow-focus earthquakes, and volcanoes mark the crest of this mid-ocean ridge."
"The markings of the inland sea floors are very similar to those in this valley," Perezsire remarked
"Exactly," Retho said, pointing to various features located above the ocean surface on the dry land. "These here are the same in form and composition as these," he pointed at their twins on the ocean floor. "Island arcs, seamounts, transform faults, and guyots. In addition, we've unearthed several different alien fossils that resemble simple aquatic life forms from these areas."
"This desert plain we have crashed onto is nothing more than a dried-up ocean bed and the crash-site a meteor crater inside a super volcanic caldera,” Moela said, leaving the comfort of the windowsill to lean on the desktop into her sire's eyes.
“A super volcano?” asked Major Nicraan Matasire. The male was tall and broad-shouldered. Someone who had one love in life other than his spouse-apparent, Retho, and who reveled in any chance he could get to exercise it. A natural-born flyer, he had spent nodes at the simulators when in flight training, more nodes painstakingly constructing models of ancient flying machines. A hobby with a purpose, if and when they ever left this smote of rock and found a habitable world those old machines could pay dividends in proving an affordable means of basic aerial transport.
Moela nodded, saying, “A super volcano is the most destructive force on a planet. When they erupt they do so with a force tens of thousands of times greater than other eruptions. They lie dormant for hundreds of thousands of cycles as a vast reservoir of magma builds up inside them before finally they unleash their apocalyptic force, capable of obliterating continents. They threaten the survival of all corporeal life.”
“When was the last time one erupted?” Dara tilted her head.
“Rough calculations estimate that the last eruption of a super volcano on this planet was 75,000 cycles,” Moela consulted her notepad’s screen.
“What causes a super volcano?”
Moela shifted her weight before answering, saying slowly, “Super volcanoes differ from normal volcanoes in many ways. The stereotypical volcano is a towering cone, but super volcanoes form in depressions in the ground called calderas.”
She moved to adjust the hologram’s presentation at its control panel. The three-dimensional display flickered to carry out her narrations as she went on, “When a normal volcano erupts, lava has gradually built up in the mountain before releasing it. In super volcanoes when magma nears the surface it does not reach it, instead it begins to fill massive underground reservoirs.”
The hologram resembled floating bulbs of blown crimson glass beneath a grid shelf. “The magma is so viscous that volcanic gasses that normally trigger an eruption cannot pass, so a massive amount of pressure begins to build up. This continues for hundreds of thousands of cycles until an eruption occurs, which blasts away a huge amount of ground, forming a new caldera.”
As the holographic diorama played out the narrated drama, BeeTee stepped forward to offer its piece of information, “We have crash-landed in such a depression. Our caldera caps one massive reservoir of magma. The idyll landscape could soon explode with devastating consequences.”
“When will it next erupt?” Dara looked toward the automaton concerned.
“I have discovered that the ground is 74cr higher than in was eighty-five cycles ago,” it replied. “This indicates a massive swelling underneath the crater. The reservoir is filling with magma at an alarming rate. The volcano erupts with a near-clockwork recurrence of every 600,000 cycles. The last eruption was more than 640,000 cycles ago - we are overdue for annihilation.”
“Anything else about the surrounding topography?” Capel inquired.
"This valley floor is made up of volcanic and sedimentary rocks, all of relatively young age," BeeTee reported.
"In contrast," Moela said, "to the ancient rocks of the surrounding mountain ranges, which are some three point six billion cycles old. Some of the oldest rocks we analyzed on the valley floor are only one hundred and seventy-five million cycles old."
“In addition, the volcanic mountain range that fronts the inland sea to our immediate east is stratovolcanoes, and the largest of the eastern region. It stretches 21,320 retems above the surrounding ocean floor. The oldest volcanic rocks are about 3-4 million cycles of age,” BeeTee explained.
Moela picked up the narrative gauntlet, saying, “The main rock of these volcanoes is porous rock that traps rainfall and act as giant sponges. This water-saturated rock weakens the overall integrating of the stratovolcano. One earthquake at just the right magnitude and the entire face of any one or all volcanoes collapses, releasing superheated steam and magma of extraordinary violence. And, we’re in the Blast Zone.”
"The inland seas that still exist on this planet cover the abyssal plains of a once mighty and vast ocean," BeeTee said. "I suspect that whoever built the pylon station Major Nicraan stimulated into destruction were either aquatic or amphibian."
"Anything else to brighten my day?" Perezsire huffed.
Retho stepped closer and nodded. "Just one," he said, and then touched a control on the desk's interface.
Tabbing several points on the control interface again caused a new image to present itself. This time it was the fossilized remains of a log. "This was discovered near the grotto to the northeast of Base Camp," he explained. In the center of the table, a holo-display glowed to life with an unrecognizable, blackened fragment.
"What is it?" Perezsire asked, studying it carefully.
"Vegetation," Retho said. “I found this frozen solid in the ground.”
"Charred and then frozen? What did this?"
Retho nodded, then shrugged.
“That doesn’t make sense,” Dara said.
Retho pointed toward the several indentations on the fossil's corrugated end. "What you are seeing is a fossilized piece of a tree half a million cycles ago. You can tell the climate of the environment this log matured in by its rings," he narrated. "To simplify it, small bands appear in a fast growing season like a spring or summer. Large dark bands are the result of an autumn; a slow growing season."
"This specimen has primarily small bands," Capel noted.
Retho nodded again, and said, "Precisely, Commander. This tends me to hypothesize that at one time this area was of a temperate state."
It was clear that Retho was on a roll, and he tabbed the interface again. This time the representation of a fossilized bone coalesced from the holographic matrix stream.
He went on, "This fragment was found near the red bluffs just northeast of the ship. I think it's important to report my findings because the growth rate of animals also can help piece the puzzle together, Sire. I'm using bone histology on a microscopic level to determine the bone tissue structure of this artifact."
"What did you find?" Moela asked, suddenly very interested in her sibling's findings.
“Well, the vascular canals determine the growth rate and animal type," Dara explained.
“Yes, Siress,” Retho smiled. Touching another point on the desk panel caused a section of the bone to magnify, revealing a numerous series of little tubules running through the surface of the cross-section. "Few vascular canals are indicative of cold-blooded animals and slow growth rates. On the other hand, as seen by this specimen, many vascular canals are found in warm-blooded creatures and fast growth rates and living in a multi-climate zone.”
“This suggests that the animal this bone came from had to adjust to changing temperatures rather quickly,” Dara surmised.
“Since the log fossil suggests that this zone was temperate,” Retho concluded, “then it appears that the animal this bone once belonged to migrated here."
"Just how quickly that animal had to adapt to changing climate is the frightening question," Moela commented. "Any clues to answering it?"
Retho shook his head, saying, "All my findings are still new, and I need more time and more research before I want to give any definite predictions. However, I think it is safe to assume that at one time, not too long ago, this planet had normal global season dispersal with mighty oceans. Then something happened to change the planet’s orbit to a flat ellipse. We can expect extreme freezing and heating temperatures as a ‘norm’."
“So, in summary of our research,” Moela smiled. “Besides atypical weather, we’re sitting on the biggest bomb Nature has ever created. If ever we needed motivation to repair and launch…”
"Keep up with your research," Perezsire announced. "All of you keep me informed of any enlightenments you may come up with. Meeting adjourned."
* * *
Simple things still gave great pleasure. A warm breeze ruffling hair.
Dara with Retho had set up a makeshift patio scene in the afternoon sunslight. Capel and Nicraan found them lying about on cushions designed to be chaises taken from the fitness lab’s solarium niche, under an improvised awning. Lunon and Moela had a badminton game under way; she in an attractive halter and pleated skirt combination while him in a sleeveless shirt and knit skinny short pants. There was a festive air about. Each dressed for their respective activity.
“Nothing wrong with a little holiday break in the routine,” Dara said.
“If that’s what the doctor ordered,” Perezsire chuckled, understanding the medicinal necessity as well as familial need in the impromptu holiday scene.
The Commander and the Major shucked off their tunics and stripped down to get maximum UV-A exposure. Nude as needles. Set free from fabric boundaries. One of the many joys of coming from an uninhibited Utopian society. Retho and Dara shimmed across their cushions to accommodate their respective mates.
In spite of the normality outside, the bursts of laughter and Lunon calling the score to Moela, the commander could not be at ease. This planet was on some kind of count down and that unnerved him. Yet, a crew could only take so much routine before someone was likely to break. Capel moved closer to Dara, moved by the smell of sun on her hair, spoke close to her ear, saying, “Just the right prescription. The doctor does know best.”
“I usually do,” she cooed.
“Did you remember to bring the picinic basket?”
Dara gestured toward a covered hamper laid ontop of a spread out checkered blanket.
“You thought of everything,” Capel chuckled, amused.
“I usually do.”
They nuzzled affectionately together, basking in familiarity and the joy of looking upon what they had created. In the distance, Retho and Nicraan were walking hand in hand towards the low range of desertrock that marked the perimeter. A few short rotates had brought a normality that looked fixed for all time. The two echelon lovers rounded the convoluted twist which screened them from the rank and file.
Stretched out on a smooth slab, they looked across the familiar desert. Retho sighed, “No monitors, no sensors, and no computers. We deserve this break.”
“This isn’t exactly a hiatus from home.”
“Anything to be off the clock.”
“Well, it does put our situation in a new light.”
“That it does. Although, it is more than that,” Retho said, softly. “We are not machinery. We have to start to build a new life away from all the technology that surrounds us. One where we never forget to live like before, on Aidennia.”
Matasire nodded, somberly. “Yes. But, we have to accept that we may never see Aidennia again. Or any part of The System. Ever again.”
Retho was watching him. He giggled when the pilot picked out a loose rock and pitched it at a dusty tump. It was a basic primal gesture, but touched his heart. His eyes were wide, gently affirming. Both of their skins was suns-warmed, smooth as polished wood, mouths a perfect ‘O’, soft and dissolving with passionate pressure. Their hands began to roam over intimate contours.
A long, expansive shadow passed overhead. Suddenly the sky was heavily clouded. The air ripe with humidity. An eye-searing streak of light zig-zagged out from the roiling ceiling. Thunder quickly cracked. A repeat had everyone sitting up staring skyward. Another fork of lightning ran along the underside of the clouds. There came a patter of large drops of rain, warm as blood. A scattered pattern marred the smooth sand. Then the rain flurry became a deluge. The sunbathers were capering like crazy children in the first rain they had seen in a long time.
Overhead, the boiling mass of iron-colored clouds revealed their burning hearts of lightning once more. Nicraan Matasire was holding Retho Capelsire in the downpour, their hair flattened in a skullcap, water running from ear, nose, and chin points, falling over shoulders like two cherubs in a fountain. They ran hand and hand through the rain to join the crowd on the forecourt.
Capel shouted to them, “On the ‘morrow, we can build a swimming pond.”
* * *
The scene within the Pioneer 4 was unprecedented. The usual snappy and precise routine was gone. The neatness of uniform dress that was quite simple to maintain, thanks to the functional simplicity of ‘smart fabric’ suit design, was gone. Synthetic in construction yet organically synched with the wearer’s body.
Without such uniforms, the Aidennians could not survive the asylum planet’s hazardous environment; their refit mission would be over before it began. A military issued suit that could protect as well as giving special abilities like doubling as an emergency EVA suit; flexible, durable and comfortable enough to wear for 10-12 nodes a shift. Footwear an extension of the suit; boots appropriate for all terrains. A commentary on Systemite society advancement.
In its natural state, the Spacecorps uniform maintained its dark grey and charcoal under-layer. While the wearer was under duress, it shaded cream to white. In the present climate condition both within and without, the podship looked as if it was attended to by specters.
The team leaned tiredly over their equipment, eyes drooping and listless. A trip from one side of the ship to another seemed like a hike across the desert. The males had discarded their tunics and, however possible, garments that had to be kept on were unfastened, hanging loosely and sodden with perspiration.
Capel Perezsire, despite the heavy, unrelenting heat that seemed to have suddenly overcome the flatlands, felt a deep sense of urgency. The onset of the high temperature was a mystery, beginning and quickly escalating without any prior warning. The lower utility deck of the ship was still relatively cool, but the upper was suffering worst.
Capel looked around as Moela tiredly read out the latest statistical check to him. "Surface temperature now reading plus one hundred and twenty noches Heit and rising rapidly."
"Have we got any further in pinpointing a source?" he asked.
Moela shook her head. "It's definitely external of the planet's atmosphere. There is no reported change in the orbit of this planet; however, if you'll remember this planet's sun, I am detecting increased solar prominence and sunspot activity. Solar radiation seems to be causing increased magnetic disturbances within this planet's atmosphere; yet, the data is inconclusive. Computer reports..."
"I don't need computer reports to tell me it's hot and getting hotter!" Perezsire suddenly exploded, bolting from the pilot's chair to his feet. Silence ran throughout the deck. "I need specifics! I need to know why and where this heat is coming from!"
Calmly, Moela replied, "When the facts fail us, we must go with theory."
"Then get new facts!" Perezsire turned to face his second‑in‑command. "Nicraan, can you squeeze any more power out of the climate control system?"
Matasire shook his head curtly. "It's already on overload... Practically combustible."
"Then what do you recommend?"
Matasire smiled and gave an impish sidelong look at Moela. "Well, I'd say...let's relax uniform regulations completely. We should get as comfortable as we can."
Capel couldn't help smiling at the impertinence of the suggestion, but at last noted that it had its practical side.
Dara and Retho stood in the middle of the lush and verdant hydroponics garden. Each planter stand had lines of free‑growing plants bearing experimental fruits, vegetables, and soy‑hybrid sprouts growing on their fiberglass mats immersed in a nutrient liquid medium; each getting their ration of ultra violet light from overhead encased lights. Now their tireless efforts would soon be in vain if they did not attempt to save the vegetation from the harmful levels of heat that were suddenly overwhelming the planet.
"We'll have to move them into the Hydroponic Unit on the lower deck," Retho told his siress, taking the last of the transparent lids and fastening it to a planter's side clips. "Let's start with the smaller plants, first. Then, we'll take the more mature ones in last."
Dara nodded, moving towards the planter closest to her. "This one all right?" she asked.
With a side look, Retho grinned, "I guess this one will do for a start."
Helping her lift the planter from its stand and onto an anti-grav dolly, Retho guided the sled and led Dara away from the garden tent and into the Pioneer 4.
As they passed through the upper deck on their way to the lift, they overheard Capel asking Moela for the latest information on the heat increase.
"Any new facts, new readings...new anything, Moela?"
The science officer had discarded her science department-denoting purple regulation uniform top, preferring the revealing tank top‑styled undershirt to ward off the heat; her tanned exposed skin was still moist with perspiration. She moved away from the computer wall and toward her commander. "Nothing. The temperature just keeps rising; however, I've instructed the computer to keep a watch on the planet's atmospheric reaction to the solar flare radiation. I still feel there's a link between it and the heat."
Exiting the elevator platform as it came to a halt on the lower utility deck, Retho hit the trigger button and the cage bar slid aside. As one, Dara and Retho made their way with the anti-grav sled and its cargo toward the already opened Hydroponics Unit to their immediate right.
Lieutenant Lunon Capelsire had been busy; clearing out the cubicle he had made enough space for all eight of the planters. Like the rest of the male members of the crew, he had abandoned his uniform's tunic and stood bare-chested, slick with perspiration. His boyish physique damp as a result of the humid atmospheric conditions, glistened in the diffused wall-paneled lighting.
"I'll arrange this one," the young engineer said, setting the planter on one of the main cargo shelves. His smile indicated genuine appreciation for the opportunity to assist in this task.
Nodding, Dara and Retho headed topside with the dolly to retrieve another stand.
As they left, Lunon headed into the galley. He had left Saa there to eat and drink while he helped out with the transporting of the hydroponics garden equipment. The canine crouched a few paces from the now empty feeding containers just below the food synthesizer terminals. Lunon paused a moment and took note that the little pup was no longer looking so little anymore: more and more it resembled an adult wild canine, slender, with its muzzle long and ears pointed. Its tawny fur had been bleached the color of frost, milky white by the blaze of the tri-suns. When Lunon took a step forward it rose, then threw back its head and cried.
Not the barking nor howling Lunon had so often heard, but a mournful yodeling that had the varied cadence and intonation of speech. The pup cried out as if calling to the very elements. At that sound the hairs on Lunon's arms and neck stood up.
"What is it?" Lunon's voice crackled.
The animal remained poised, its muzzle pointed uptop. Lunon looked up to see what it watched there. Nothing but ceiling plates. Lunon sighed, turned in frustration to go; with a low growl Saa warned him. Tentatively, the engineer glanced back at the galley.
That's when he not only felt, but also saw the effects of an earth tremor.
Dara and Retho were going up the stony ramp with another garden stand on the anti-grav dolly and into the ship when suddenly they were thrown to the ground by the invisible hands of a shock wave. The area rocked slightly; toppling the stand they were transporting and spilling its contents onto the ground. The water storage unit in the food preparations area waved back and forth, with a force that was equal to the vibration of the planet.
But, then the rocking stopped. It ceased as suddenly as it had come.
The planet became still.
Setting the toppled planter upright, Retho and Dara overheard Matasire reporting to Capel inside on the flight deck.
"Seismographic readings show quake originating from northern fault in sector G-L Three K."
"Cause?" Perezsire asked.
Matasire looked at the holo‑set on the control console intently, then replied, looking back at this commander, "Unknown."
Dara and Retho entered the flight deck, dolly and planter in hand slightly ruffled, and headed for the lift.
Perezsire looked over his shoulder and saw Nicraan step away from the computer wall. "Any more suggestions?" he asked.
"Me? Hmmm... Well, I don't see how we can find an answer without going and looking for it. Since the shuttle is inoperative, then I suggest a land reconnaissance to check levels within our range. But then, I think like a pilot."
"Maybe that's not a bad way to think," Perezsire said with a smile. His bitterness over Nicraan's and Retho's pledge waning. He always liked the pilot, whether he would be Moela's or Retho's mate seemed less significant at this urgent moment. "Since the shuttle's still out of commission; you, BeeTee, and myself will take a ride in the 'Rover."
***
Dara stood amongst the disassembled components of Base Camp and watched her mate, the major, and the syntheform drive off and over the northern horizon in the Landrover. She turned her gaze and went about storing the utility compacts; Moela approached her.
"Do you actually think they'll find anything out there? In the desert? The source of this heat is from Space. The shuttlecraft should be used, not a land‑base vehicle."
"Well, since the shuttle is completely useless, and the 'Rover is the only means for investigation...I don't know, Moela. I honestly don't know," Dara huffed exasperated in reply. Her tone etched with fear.
Born in the Midwest, raised in the Northeast, writer/author/play and screenwriter, E. Robert Dunn began writing at the age of 14 and continued through his higher education in the Southeast where he currently resides. In addition to penning the science fiction series “Echelon’s End”, E. Robert has also written two off-Broadway plays, “LipSync” and “A Dragged Out Haunting”, and solo-penned the short-play entitled “VOiCES”. Additional works include, “The World We Live In”, “The Life Of Another”, and “Are You Happy?”.
E. Robert was a contributing writer to the online STAR TREK: Odyssey’s Season One Finale webisode [featured in STARLOG Magazine, January 2008, “Beyond Hidden Frontiers”, p.89]. E. Robert has become a regular at SuperCon events on panels and participating in book signings/readings.
Besides being a produced playwright and published author, E. Robert has had articles printed in local newspapers as well as medical newsletters. He has also graced many a stage by his given name: Eston Dunn. He is the founder of the nonprofit organization artsUnited, Inc. A recent project is founding another non-profit online webcasting charity to educate while entertain through programs that unite those that are separated by the walls of stereotyping, prejudice, and bigotry (www.watchoutweb.org).
Book cover concept and design by William Green. A creative and analytical fact based artistic professional with strong leadership skills and over ten years experience in high level retail branding and marketing roles. Born in Ohio, making his way through Texas to eventually setting in Southeastern Florida. His insightfulness has reimagned the “Echelon’s End” series taking it from dusty shelves to science fiction conventions and now mainstream with its eye-catching book covers and merchandise (available on www.cafepress.com/echelonsend).