Infall Ch. 01

Hey everyone. Here's a new novel called Infall. As usual, it's complete. It starts out sci-fi-ish, but I swear that doesn't last for more than a few pages because I cut the hell out of it and then we're on the ground. Sorry for the length of the note.

This is a noncon story in a strange way, since although Indya is often in danger of that, she comes from a culture that can't really conceive of sexual violence, and I push that limit all the way to the end. The novel is told from her point of view. For Infall, I chose the myth of Atlantis and created an ideal, albeit troubling, society on a space station.

I can get carried away by a theme--see Achen Enforcer--and early readers of Infall noted its excessive length (totally justified). In addition, people had varied reactions to Indya's viewpoints as a person from Atlantis. It doesn't really matter, I think, if I agree or disagree. A character is a character. I'm sure you'll let me know what you think.

If you've read other stuff I've written, you know I like to make up words. Because Indya has to learn a new language, I have a list of Odien vocabulary at the end of the book, and one reader was annoyed that he didn't get it earlier, which was really helpful information (Hey, EGRI. Thank you again for your generous reading and great feedback. I made a lot of changes based on your input, and I'm grateful). To fix that, I thought I would post the vocabulary at the end of each chapter. I hope that doesn't piss people off. The list is kind of long, but I'm not quite sure how else to do it. If you have any suggestions, let me know. The first foreign words spoken in the text are not Odien.

There is a surprise coming. A bunch of people made the request, so I did that.

Paraskevi, this one's for you, and thank you again for reading. I can say your name here. Nobody knows who you are. I don't know who you are and I like you so much anyway.

For Bellie444 and Hadaly, always. Check out Bellie444's writing. She's got new stuff and it's turn-on-the-fan hawt, plus she's got a great sense of humor.

I update my profile when something new happens. Feel free to email me through my profile.

I guess I also want to say--please remember that this is for fun. I'm playing with a fantasy.

I hope you enjoy it.

Harp Strathe (semiosis50)

INFALL

Chapter One

On Atlantis Station, a man was sitting at his console when the world went dark.

Not the huge space station he was on. The one below, the planet the space station orbited. The lights turned off on the surface of the planet like someone had flipped a massive switch.

A three-dimensional simulation appeared. Atlantis Station was a ring with five spokes connected to another larger ring, which was spinning. In the simulation, the tiny station shielded behind the planet, sheer luck, as the fire of a bright yellow sun reached out to the planet and then withdrew.

Doctor Ferina spoke. "There has been a massive solar flare, producing an electromagnetic pulse," she concluded. "A flare that size will be catastrophic. It will shut down the power grids and all computer systems. Fail safe and cooling systems on nuclear power reactors. The planet runs on a smart-grid. Power will go on a global level. Hospitals, government agencies, water, power, heat, communications, trade, transportation, all of it. Whole economies will collapse in a matter of hours, causing mass panic."

* * *

Nobody was arguing in the huge room, an oval of chairs, and that itself said how bad it was. A panel lit. "How many on the space station right now, chief?"

"Two thousand six hundred and thirty-four," a man standing in the center of the room answered.

Another panel lit. "What are our choices?"

"We can initiate infall of the station and join them on the surface or we can stay here."

A panel lit, addressing the woman in the center of the room. "For how long could we stay?"

"We're designed to be self-sufficient," Doctor Ferina answered. "We have all we require. We are only reliant on the sun. We could stay until our orbit degrades."

"How many generations will it take for our orbit to degrade?"

"It's difficult to estimate. Twenty, maybe. We're going to have to find a way for our descendants to remember that infall is even possible."

* * *

A panel lit, the chairs populated again, the lights dim. "You're saying we imbed the information for our descendants to read in music?"

"Twenty generations is a long time for us. It's an easy way to transmit it and keep it stable. Someone will find it," Dr. Uste answered. "We will call ourselves Generation One."

* * *

400 years later

* * *

"Come here, Indya," Jae said.

Indya looked at the book and shook her head. "Why does that old music even interest you?"

"Why do planetary horses interest you?" he replied. "I found a message in the music, a code. Once I discovered it, it was everywhere. It's a message from Generation One."

"Generation One! They lived over four hundred years ago. What does it say?"

Jae turned to his notes. "'We are Generation One,' and then something like, 'We are not magical beings. You are our...descendants. A solar flare destroy technology on planet Metas. We stay in station. Station orbit degrade in twenty generations," Jae said, looking up at her.

Indya was staring at him, frowning lightly. She and Jae were seventeenth generation.

"There's more," Jae said, swiping through what looked like a technical manual.

"What's that?"

"Instructions for taking Atlantis into infall before we burn up in the atmosphere of the planet."

* * *

Her earpiece gave a soft chime.

"Hello, Indya," the man said, smiling.

Indya turned, seeing him. She smiled back. "Hello, Pavel."

"Are you ready?" Pavel said, a man with wavy brown hair, serene features. He was twenty-three. She was nineteen. They were the same height.

Indya was wearing a one-piece luminous dark blue garment that matched the color of her eyes. It was made of material so thin it was almost transparent, formed over her full breasts, her nipples jutting, the material cut away to show her belly and the outside curves of her hips. The garment had pants as tight, hugging her butt and thighs down to her ankles, and then slipper shoes. It was all she was wearing. Her long hair, inky black, was in two tails behind her, brushing her butt. "Do you like it?" she said, turning around in front of him, her hair following her.

"We usually go to the arboretum after the viewing deck," Pavel said. "Won't you be cold?"

"No," she sighed.

They went to the viewing deck, which had private alcoves, the vastness of space as a view. They lay back. Indya turned toward him, her hand going to Pavel's chest. She hadn't brought it up the last three times they'd come here. She'd been waiting. When he turned and looked at her, she leaned in, touching her lips to his and pulling back, their faces close. She did it again, her mouth opening, and he kissed her back, their tongues tangling, a wave going through her belly. Her hand ran over his chest and downward.

He broke their kiss and stopped her hand with his. "Can't we just enjoy ourselves, Indya?"

He'd never let her touch his sex. Not his nipples, not even his bare chest. They'd been seeing each other for almost a year. She was flushed, breathing heavier, between her legs sensitive. "Just for a little while, Pavel," she said, taking his hand. "You liked touching my breast before."

"It was all right," he said, but he pulled his hand away when she brought it closer. "No, Indya."

Indya flopped onto her back, staring up at the stars. Her heart was pounding, between her legs sensitive. She wanted to touch him. She wanted Pavel to touch her. Well, she wanted someone to touch her. "Don't you like me?"

"You know I like you."

"Then why don't you want to?"

"Sex is all you think about," he said, sitting up. "Is that all you want me for, Indya?"

A little, but she wasn't going to tell him that. And she did like him. Well, enough to have sex with him. He was handsome. "Of course not, Pavel. Forgive me?"

He turned and smiled at her, nodding. "Let's go watch the paleas getting trimmed."

She drew in her breath, releasing it. He would want to hold her hand. It was romantic. It made Indya want to scream, it was so boring.

He touched her arm and she looked at him. "It's not that I don't want to, Indya. We will."

"Then do it now just because I want it," she said, and then looked away. "Never mind." She would go home to her chamber and masturbate.

"I don't want it to be just about sex. I want it to be special for both of us, because we're in love."

* * *

"What's down there? What do the scans say?" Savin said, hovering over the sensor board.

"Not much," the chief answered across from him, leaning back to rub his eyes with his fingers. "Seventeen generations wasn't long enough for the people on the planet to redevelop advanced technology. There are the ruins of our old civilization. Mostly agricultural societies and some primitive cities with aqueducts, so fresh water, sewage systems. War is common, as is trade."

" War?" Savin exclaimed. "Meta, could we even talk to these people?"

"Our earpieces have translators, an old program from when we spoke different languages on Atlantis. The earpieces would need about two hours exposed to the target language to begin to form a lexicon. But the idea of understanding them, or of them understanding us, goes a great deal deeper than vocabulary, Savin."

"What are they like?"

"Without the hypothalamic suppression we give to our men, I'm afraid their cultures would tend to be primitive, male-dominated societies, superstitious and violent. Ignorant. Men down there will have a higher sex drive than the men of Atlantis, as high as our women. Their men would tend to be potentially physically aggressive."

"The men are aggressive? It's difficult to imagine. What other major differences?"

"The people of Atlantis have been manipulating morphologic genetics for generations, with a heavy bias toward the golden ratio and symmetry, so people on the planet would find us quite extraordinarily beautiful. And our eyes would be strange to them, the colors."

"We can't risk coming in contact with these people. They're ignorant savages," Savin said.

"We have the technology to infall and submerge into the ocean, if we want to isolate ourselves. With some adaptations, Atlantis could function on the deep seafloor," the chief said.

"Then I'll propose we land here, in the ocean," Savin said, pointing to coordinates far away from any land. "We'll submerge and come out of the sea when our cousins are more civilized."

* * *

Indya was in her family's section. Her capsule was at the end of a long exposed arm of other capsules, more arms like it all around, long rows. Inside the capsule, they were each suspended in gel that would shield them from the turbulence of infall. She was lying down, dressed in black stretchy material that covered everything but her face, which was behind a mask. The suits were thin, like a second skin. She couldn't see her family, her face mask showing a view of the stars.

Infall. The word itself made her anxious. Falling into the planet and then into the ocean, sinking to the bottom. Once they were on the seafloor, they would stay there, long permalines to the surface to capture light and convert it into energy, cultivating and harvesting kelp.

A shield came up for the bright light, her capsule beginning to shake, a violent battering. Indya heard it, muffled, but she barely felt it, the gel vibrating. All was as it should be. They were falling into a gravity well, forces from which the capsules would shield them. Four hundred years, and the people of Atlantis were coming home. Into the ocean of their old home, at least.

The battering got worse, everything blurred with motion, and then it stopped, becoming smooth and Indya had the sensation of floating. Breathing in the mask, her shoulders relaxed. They would be there soon. The next would be splashdown and then she would be looking at water and then a blackness as deep as the space they'd just left as they descended into the ocean.

There was a thump and another louder thump. Her body tensed. That wasn't right, a sound like something tearing, a metal bar flying and just missing her capsule, massive, and suddenly light, bright light. There wasn't supposed to be daylight, and a view that was not water, something coming at her or she was coming at it and she didn't remember anything else, falling.

* * *

Indya woke, the mask on her face. She was still in the capsule, a transparent tube, looking up at something. Green, a color so intense she almost couldn't look at it. There was sunlight, far too bright. She winced away, her arm coming up slowly, moving through the gel to shield her eyes.

"Hello?" she said, her earpiece still in her ear, the sounds she made muffled behind her mask. "Hello, can anyone hear me?"

Something came back, faint, a voice. "All alive...can't wait...longer...submerging--"

"No!" she yelled. They couldn't go without her. "Father! Please, don't leave me!" Her hands were reaching for the roof of her capsule, pushing against it, the gel prevented her from pounding, all her motions dragging.

After a time, she stopped. She was only using oxygen. Indya floated, moving her arms and legs to feel them, the gel soft, trying to think. Her heart was pounding. They were gone. They were gone and she couldn't get to them. They couldn't get to her. That was done. She would never see them again, and she was on the surface of the planet with the savages and trapped in her capsule.

Crying, Indya began to shake in the gel. After a time, there was nothing to do but stop. She sniffed over and over, licking under her nose and tasting salt, no way to touch her face to wipe it away, sniffing again. If she couldn't open the device, she would suffocate when her oxygen ran out. Getting her legs up, she pressed on the roof of the capsule. There was no way that she could move it. It was designed to withstand forces in space.

Indya put her legs down, breathing fast, trying not to panic. She was lying on the ground on the surface of the planet, looking up through the green leaves of a tree into a blue sky. Everything was moving. It was wind. She put her hand up, slow, and touched the transparent roof of the capsule. The view outside was full of life.

A face appeared over her and she yelled. Hair on his face. A man. Her heart began to pound. The people of Atlantis hadn't had facial hair. He looked huge. His face disappeared.

His face reappeared at another angle, and then another face across from him, and another. Three of them. The dark-haired man touched the surface of the capsule, jerking his hand back. They had to let her out. Staring at her, they began talking to one another. She motioned to them. There was a button on the side. Their faces disappeared.

Three men heaved and then upended her, the capsule rolling once, Indya rolling with it, although it didn't hurt. She got herself turned belly-up again, balancing herself and spinning slowly.

They watched her and did it again, upending it. She did her slow twirl in gel again and her eyes got wide as the man with brown hair brought something down on the capsule right at her face. She stared at him and then laughed. Indya knew it was rude, but of all things, for him to think he could break open a capsule that had withstood infall by hitting it with a rock.

The man saw her expression through the mask and dropped the rock, backing away. Indya shook her head, making slow motions at him to come back. He didn't seem reassured, his eyes wide.

The dark-haired man arrived over her, trying the same thing, bashing at the capsule, his face disturbing, his teeth pulled back. He hit something, because there was a minor decompression, a hissing. The button. He'd hit it. Finally.

The top of the capsule blew open. The dark-haired man yelled and pushed the whole thing over onto its side, Indya spilling out, covered in gel. She dragged the mask off her face and was coughing, turning onto her side and curling up, and then she gagged. Indya went still, panting. She'd done the planetary simulations. But it was so much, the air moving over her skin, all the light and space. Empty space all around her, like she was still falling.

She struggled to sit up, dizzy. Feet came into her view, and then thighs, and then a face when she looked up. The dark-haired man was squatting in front of her, looking at her eyes. He was large, the largest person she'd ever seen, his features obscured by hair. She drew back.

"Camen. Camen kowintov," he said to her, meaningless, his tone loud, disruptive.

Her eyes roamed his face and then his body. He was covered in hair and dressed in crude cloth, frayed. Men in Atlantis didn't have hair on their faces or below their necks any more than she did. He reached for her and she met his hand, guiding it aside, shaking her head. His hand returned, his face unfriendly, and he grabbed her shoulder, Indya slippery in the gel. He pushed her onto her back. His hands went to the neck of her suit and he began pulling at it, mangling it.

He struggled as she watched him, the suit stretching with his efforts. Indya made a face. She'd known the planetary people were savages, but he seemed disordered, almost comical, jerking and tugging at her. He said something in his language, and stopped, reaching down. It was shiny in his hand. Indya realized it was a knife. She'd never seen a weapon before.

She began to breathe fast, nothing funny about that.

With the weapon, he cut all the way down her suit and was grabbing at the material, tugging again. It pulled off of her shoulders, then her head, her hair spilling out and he was peeling it off of her. She had no idea why he felt compelled to undress her.

He looked at her body, going still, his eyes going back to her face, Indya hearing him breathing. There were two other men there, standing over her. Her eyebrows went up. They did seem barbaric. They were certainly dirty. The dark-haired one brought his body over hers. He stank. She wrinkled her nose, trying to get out from under him, but he held her there and then reached and tried to touch her breast.

"No," Indya said, sitting up and pushing his hand away. Was he insane?

He looked unsure, and then Indya watched his hand draw back, still wondering what he was doing, and it flew at her and hit her in her face, Indya head whipping to the side. She cried out. Her hand went to her cheek. She stared at him, unable to move, her eyes wide. He pushed her shoulders down and climbed on top of her, kneeing her legs open.

"Assa," one of the other men said. "Assa!"

The man over her looked somewhere to Indya's left, straightening onto his knees. Indya made a face, disgusted, and backed out from under him as he got to his feet and ran, holding his pants, the men scattering. She came up, watching them go, wiping gel from her hands onto the grass.

"Tares, tolena amfal nuvita," a voice said.

Indya's hand, shaking, went to her cheek. She was sure it was red, looking at who had spoken. More large hairy savage planetary men. Then she froze.

Horses. Real live horses, not a simulation. Indya got to her feet, staring at them. There had been anatomical pictures, of course, but the animals were so much larger than their scientists had imagined. And planetary people did ride them, probably had ridden them, just like in the stories. She'd always thought they had. There'd been so many theories. She'd wanted to believe it.

The man who had spoken was riding one. Riding one. She approached the animal slowly, her hand coming out, touching the horse's shoulder, running her hand on the texture of it, rough and almost sharp it was so straight. It was another creature like her, but it wasn't like her at all, Indya staring into its liquid brown eye, its body big and heavy, and it had eyelashes. She grinned.