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Sunday, July 21, 2019

Enjoy Random Chance & the Paradise that is Earth!


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Notes: My intent with this story is to present it in ten-chapter segments (or so), something like a television mini-series. I wrote the first ten chapters, which appear in the volume above, got started on the next ten, and promptly hit a wall. I'm currently working on chapter three of Book Two. 

It's science fiction, but told from less of a techno-wiz-bang perspective and more from a soulful, spiritual one. That right there subverts the science in science fiction, which is what I wanted to do. I very strongly oppose the materialist, atheistic mindset that has swept over the world like a noxious infection. It is my belief, held very strongly, that humanity, if it is to survive even to the next century, will have to return to its spiritual roots and embrace them. The 35th century, where Random Chance lives, will be a much more soulful one than this one is--by necessity.

That said, don't mistake me as a religionist or fundamentalist. I'm not. In fact, I'm very much not. Both in the end are outgrowths of materialism itself, and must as well be seen for what they are--toxic.

Enjoy!

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>>Table of Contents<<

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When you crack the sky, ‘scrapers fill the air.
Will you keep on building higher
till there's no more room up there?
Will you make us laugh, will you make us cry?
Will you tell us when to live, will you tell us when to die?
--Cat Stevens
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Prologue
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Year: 3467 AD
Aboard the UOT Adelson, a day out from Mars

“Report."
The captain of the Adelson didn't look up from his palm-pad.
"Sir," said the officer. "I think we've found him."
"Found who, sailor?"
It wasn't that the information on his palm-pad was too important to look up from. It was, after all, nothing more than real estate listings on Rhea.
"Well?"
"We believe it's The Pompatus … er, The Pompatus of … of, er, Love, er, sir—"
One didn't speak such nonsense to the captain. And that included such words like "Pompatus" or "love." It was enough to release him from the technology in his grip, which he tossed on the table. He brought his glare to the sailor.
"Love?"
"Pompatus, yes, sir—"
"And this concerns me why?" demanded the captain of the UOT Adelson.
"It's his ship, sir," said the sailor quickly. "The traitor’s son’s ship. Random Chance's—"
The captain squinted. "You believe it's his?"
"Yes, sir."
"You're wasting my time, Lieutenant! I'm not interested in belief; I want certainty, do you hear me? Certainty!"
"Y-Yes, sir.”
"Make sure it's him. If it is, pursue and overtake. Now get out!"

Chapter One

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