Night of the Broken Moon (The Slave Planet) Read online

  Night Of The Broken Moon

  Seven Steps

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  NIGHT OF THE BROKEN MOON

  First edition. August 1, 2016.

  Copyright © 2016 Seven Steps.

  Written by Seven Steps.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Also By Seven Steps

  Night Of The Broken Moon

  The Squid and The Whale

  Further Reading: The Slave Planet

  Also By Seven Steps

  About the Author

  Night Of The Broken Moon

  New York City

  November 3, 2056

  It was to be the greatest feat in human history.

  Chattering spectators crammed into Times Square, filling it to the brim. The wind reached chilly fingers through hats, scarves and gloves. Feet stomped against the frosty autumn weather, splashing slush on jeans and skirts. A two-day-old film of snow lined the ground, made brown by tires, shoes and the general grime that seemed native to the New York City streets.

  Ten minutes left.

  Sixteen-year-old Samantha Patterson stuffed her hands deep into her wool lined coat pockets, her fingers anxious for the small bit of warmth there. A chilling breeze blew her brown, straight hair around her face and across her frozen nose. She smoothed the strand back behind her ear and yanked down her fur hat. Not even the punishing weather could compare with the pictures that danced across the brightly lit screen of the Jumbotron.

  China, Russia, the United Kingdom, and America had banded together, along with the privately owned Sensei Technologies, to build Colony 1, the first lunar habit. Tonight, at exactly twelve o’clock, thousands of explosives would detonate beneath the moon’s surface. Each explosion would create a series of underground tunnels that would serve as the foundation for Colony 1.

  The Jumbotron flashed pictures of a beautiful, blonde, middle-aged woman in a short, pink dress suit. She stood in front of a miniature version of Colony 1. Although her lips moved, no sound came from the screen. The woman gestured to a series of pipes. Below her, the words Water Filtration System glided across the screen.

  Samantha stared at the display in awe.

  Nine minutes.

  The engineers at Sensei Technologies claimed that Colony 1 would become a stepping-stone to inhabiting new planets and their satellites. They said it would change the course of humankind. They said it would even bring world peace.

  And what better way to experience this new beginning than alone and freezing in Times Square, Samantha thought wryly.

  Eight minutes.

  A snowflake fell onto her thickly mascaraed lashes. She blinked it away and stomped her feet again, warding off the cold numbness that had taken up residence in her cheap snow boots.

  Today marked Samantha’s first solo trip out of the Brooklyn suburbs and into the city. She lied to her parents, telling them she was going to the library. After that, she had turned off her cell phone and hopped onto the subway. That was nine hours ago. She wondered if they had bothered to call.

  Probably not, she thought. They’re too busy watching TV to notice that I’m not around.

  Seven minutes.

  The bright video screens around her turned night into day. She blew onto her frozen fingers and watched people hustle back and forth in the late hour.

  Six minutes.

  Directly above the Jumbotron was a billboard advertising a camera that recorded videos in 3D. Every few minutes, the camera would flash, and an image of a happy family chasing one another in circles would appear in the sky like some strange specters.

  Five minutes.

  To her left, she could make out hydrogen-fueled yellow cabs whizzing by in both directions. The two-way traffic, separated only by a small cement island, was crowded with people. They looked impatiently at the traffic. Every so often, the crowd would jerk forward, then backwards, as if they had jointly decided to hurl themselves in front of the speeding cars but had lost their nerves at the last second.

  A man with big, white headphones covering his ears broke away from the indecisive crowd. He stepped off the island and proceeded to jaywalk across the street, never picking his eyes from the ground.

  The cabs did not slow or stop, yet somehow the man crossed the street without being run over.

  New York ESP, Samantha thought.

  New Yorkers didn’t see the world around them. They sensed it. Years of avoiding eye contact had honed their peripheral vision to uncanny levels. Like an old Native American tracker, New Yorkers could tell through vibrations in the ground, the warmth of the air, the smell of the streets, the glint of the sun off a building, and the positioning of the food carts the exact date, time, weather forecast, and even if the Yankees would win the World Series or not.

  Four minutes.

  A man in front of her turned around, his gaze wandering over her face. When she caught his eye, he pretended to look at the Jumbotron again.

  Three minutes.

  When he turned around moments later, she gave him a smile.

  The tall, dark-haired man smiled back. His grin was wide and toothy.

  Her breath caught.

  Handsome.

  He pushed his way toward her.

  Though considered awkward by most, with her pear-shaped body, long neck, and large nose, Samantha possessed a confidence around men that came from a mix of delusion and too many romance novels. She envisioned herself as a beautiful damsel, always looking for salvation in the arms of some handsome prince. With this confidence wrapped tightly around her, she brazenly encouraged male attention, no matter small. She considered every glance, every touch, every wink and every smile as her due.

  Two minutes.

  The man arrived at her side, and together they watched in amazement as history unfolded before them.

  When she stomped her feet against the chill, he took her hand, wrapped it in his, and placed it inside his warm pocket.

  She smiled. That small act was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her.

  “Trevor,” he said.

  “Samantha,” she replied.

  “You’re pretty.”

  “So are you.”

  He grinned at her again, released her hand, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into the warmth of his chest.

  She molded herself to him, feeling closer to this mystery man than to anyone she had ever met. A lifetime of friendless loneliness had left her heart yearning for the smallest of touches, the briefest of embraces. The fact that this embrace came from a mysterious stranger on a mysterious night made her heart skip a beat.

  Some people say that this mission is a gift from God, she thought. Maybe this man is too. Who knows? Stranger things have happen on stranger nights.

  One minute.

  “Can I ask you something?” he asked.

  “Sure.”

  “What would you do if it was the end of the world? Today, right now.”

  Samantha didn’t hesitate.

  “I’d spend it with you,” she whispered.

  Trevor’s eyes widened.

  She looked back at him, her heart on her sleeve.

  The corner of his mouth tilted skyward. He didn’t take his eyes from hers.

  Only ten seconds remained. She briefly wondered if he would kiss her when the clock struck zero.

  “Ten!” the crowd counted. “Nine!”

  Trevor grabbed the back of her neck, jerked her toward him, and kissed her hard.

  She stood her ground, pushing her lips into his with equa
l ferocity. She felt him smile.

  “Three! Two! One!”

  The crowd silenced.

  Samantha pulled away from Trevor’s warm mouth and looked to the moon.

  At first, nothing happened.

  Then, suddenly, a long crack moved across the moon’s surface, splitting it in two.

  The crowd gasped.

  “It’s breaking apart!” someone screamed. “The moon is breaking apart!”

  A second crack branched upward. Several smaller pieces broke off and floated toward Earth.

  More screams.

  One thought cemented itself into Samantha’s mind. I’m going to die!

  A stampede of bodies raced from the square.

  Doom filled Samantha’s belly. She gripped Trevor’s hand.

  “I’ve got you!” Trevor cried over the crowd’s screams. “Don’t let go!”

  The crowd pushed and prodded them further down forty-second street.

  She kept a tight clasp on Trevor’s hand as they let the crowd carry them away. Panic rushed into her chest, tightening it, speeding her heartbeat, quickening the inhale and exhale of her lungs.

  “I’m not leaving you!” Trevor screamed. “Don’t let go of my hand!”

  The crowd bucked forward.

  Trevor’s hand slipped from her tired, frozen fingers.

  “Trevor!” Samantha screamed.

  The crowd parted, dragging Samantha left toward the subway, while Trevor was rushed to the right towards the waterfront.

  She tried to turn around to see where he had gone, but the crowd sprinted forward, desperately trying to escape their impending doom.

  With no other recourse, and completely alone, she allowed her fear to overtake her.

  She ran.

  The Squid and The Whale

  Earth 5075

  Folk’s knife squished as he stabbed into the dirt colored carcass.

  He smiled, knowing that it meant more plenty for his family. He mentally calculated what the pieces of this beast would fetch him. New pots for his young, beautiful wife. New skins for him to wear, and perhaps even a canoe. He ripped out one of the beast’s teeth and threw it into the pile building next to him.

  The day was hot, hotter then most. Folk wiped his brow and stood to stretch his legs. The white sand of the beach nearly burned his feet, but he pressed on, stooping back down to finish stripping the carcass.

  His wife, Yaya, was heavy with their first child. There was much to do. He’d already built a bigger, sturdier bed in their hut from the beast’s bones and covered it with the softest skins and blankets he could barter for. He still needed to reinforce the roof before the rainy season began. Perhaps he could even barter with someone to expand his hut for him.

  The notion made his head spin. Only weeks before he had been a simple fisherman. Now, he could barter to have someone else expand his home while he sat in the shade and watched.

  The repetitive work and the pounding of the ocean against the sandy shore put his mind at ease. This strange beast had truly changed his life.

  When the first creature appeared - brown, deflated and washed up on the beach - Folk had assumed it was a dead whale. It had taken Folk only a moment to discover that this was no whale, at least no whale he had ever seen. A whale could grow the length of ten men. This creature was only as long as three. Its body looked more like a fat worm than a whale. It had tentacles like a squid at its top, and skinny, hard legs like a crab at its bottom.

  Never one to refuse a gift from the sea gods, Folk said a prayer of thanks and dove in. He thanked the gods again when he discovered the many uses for the creature’s carcass. Its fat burned well. Its legs were hard but pliable, good for fishing rods and spears. The teeth in the mouth, hidden by the tentacles, were excellent for weapons. Even the hard bones could be used in hut building.

  These creatures were miraculous, and Folk was grateful.

  He threw the last tooth on the pile, stood again to stretch his sore, sunburned back, and looked over what he’d done so far. The carcass was completely stripped of teeth, legs, fat, and bones. He wiped away the sweat that ran down into his eyes. It had taken him half the morning to strip this one, and there were two more carcasses on the beach. It would be well after nightfall before he could head home and prepare for the next day when he’d haul his wares to the village to sell.

  Perhaps I will finally tell the villagers where I get these things from, he thought. After all, I am only one man and I have all I need for myself and my family. Why let these treasures go to waste?

  He bundled the teeth in a cloth and placed them on top of his sled. He put a rope around his waist and began to pull the sled home when something caught his eye.

  Coming up from the ocean was another creature. At first, he thought it was another corpse, but there was something different about this one. It stood straight up. The tentacles on the top of its head moved and wiggled with life.

  The creature stepped one crab-like foot on shore. It was large, the height of three men. Its body was brown and ridged, resembling a large worm. One tentacle hung down the front of it, as if it was sniffing the ground. The creature walked up to the corpse and placed its hanging tentacle on it. It caressed the empty corpse. Then it turned its attention to Folk.

  Terror gripped Folk’s heart, immobilizing him.

  The creature stepped one leg toward Folk tentatively, as though it was uncertain of what Folk was.

  The movement shook Folk to action.

  He turned to run, but the weight of the sled prevented him from moving any faster than a snail’s pace.

  Heart pumping, lungs tight, fear racing through his veins, Folk undid the knot of the rope and set his feet to run when wetness slapped the back of Folk’s head. Numbness raced from his head down to his neck, eliminating his ability to swallow. It moved down his shoulders to his arms, torso, and legs. He collapsed.

  With his mind racing but with his body unable to respond, Folk was helpless to do anything but watch as the giant creature approached him.

  God help me! God, please help me!

  Tentacles, covered in spines Folk hadn’t seen before, drove into his body.

  Though Folk couldn’t speak, his mind screamed in pain.

  The muscles in the tentacles flexed, pulling Folk along the ground.

  God, please!

  The tentacles hoisted him above the beast’s open mouth.

  Folk faced the sky, the sun warming his screaming flesh, the broken moon setting on the horizon.

  God, please protect my wife and my child. Don’t let it get my wife and child!

  He felt the hooks in him retract, and he was weightless. With a splash, his body was on fire.

  His mind went blank with pain as he sank into the beast’s stomach.

  He saw the giant mouth with rows and rows of teeth close over him.

  He saw the sun one last time.

  And then he saw nothing at all.

  Looking for more?

  For the complete stories, check out THE SLAVE PLANET, exclusively on Amazon.com

  Did you love Night of the Broken Moon? Then you should read The Slave Planet by Seven Steps!

  Love is the ultimate crime.

  On a planet where women are born to rule, Empress Nadira's secret affair with her slave threatens to rip her family apart. When she joins the highest council in the land, her secret is revealed. Will Nadira go against everything she believes in to protect her family, or will she choose her heart and doom everyone she loves to death?

  Empress Eva thinks she has it all: wealth, power and a mother who adores her. That is, until she meets Lex, a handsome alien imprisoned in a slave market. His red hair and crimson eyes intrigue her. His touch sets her on fire. When the beautiful alien captures her heart, Eva is forced to make a life changing decision: pursue the career of her dreams, or give it all up for the love of a slave?

  The Slave Planet is a clean, science fiction, interracial romance. It is a thrilling journey into an alterna
te future where women rule the world.

  Read more at Seven Steps’s site.

  Also by Seven Steps

  The Slave Planet

  Night of the Broken Moon

  Standalone

  Before I Wake

  Watch for more at Seven Steps’s site.

  About the Author

  “Let me be that I am and seek not to alter me.” William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing.

  Seven Steps is a working wife and mother who has been imagining and writing stories since the first grade. She enjoys reading, writing, and travel.

  Read more at Seven Steps’s site.

 

 

  Seven Steps, Night of the Broken Moon (The Slave Planet)

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