Yesterday we met author Nadine Ducca. Today read about her novel, my review, and an excerpt. If you like what you read, please comment and buy the book.
Blurb:
Life and death have been
industrialized. The Forge, the birthplace of every soul, is a rumbling factory
owned by the goddess Time, managed by Lucifer, and powered by the labor of
demons and imps. In this dystopian world, a renegade interplanetary pilot
running from his past doesn't stand a chance.
Handling Neptunian meth and dodging security
cannons are all in a day’s work for Tristan Cross—not that he's one to
complain. Working for the smuggling company StarCorp is an improvement over
what he used to do for a living.
However, when StarCorp gives Tristan a one-way
ticket into the brainwashed—and disturbingly suicidal—Loyal League, he decides
to run from the company and start a new life in the only safe haven he knows:
Earth. With the help of his brother, Tristan embarks on the most hazardous
journey of his life, one that will place him at Time’s mercy. Little does he
know the demons running the universe are craving a feast, and his own soul is
the next item on the menu.
Review:
I’ve read a lot of books, so it isn’t often I come across
one that is truly innovative. The quirky Serving
Time, however, is something different. It seamlessly weaves together the
science-fiction and fantasy elements of the story to create an outstanding read
that isn’t a rehash of other stories. The fantasy elements dealing with reincarnation
and True Selves are an interesting innovation, and the science fiction elements
are believable without overbearing the characters and plot. All the main
characters are fascinating and keep you cheering for their success. I
especially liked the imperious goddess, Time, and Tristan, the former assassin,
drug-running hero. Even the minor characters are well-developed and curiously believable
despite the outrageous nature of the plot. The book kept me up late and never
drags. I give it an enthusiastic five stars and high recommend it to fans of
science fiction or fantasy or anyone who likes a quirky, out-of-the-mainstream
tale.
Excerpt:
In the beginning, the Logos created the
universe. It was a lonely place, empty and quiet, so the Logos brought forth
three goddesses: the Past, the Present, and the Future. With them came
nostalgia, audacity, and uncertainty. The three child goddesses gazed at their
creator with expectation, for now that Time existed, so could life.
Robert stood in the
center of the astral circle etched on the hardwood floor of his living room.
His brow creased as he studied the ring of symbols. His fingertips tingled. The
portal was ready, and no matter how much a small—yet insistent—part of him
wished to put it off, he knew the time had come to open it. He closed his eyes
and recited the first two verses.
As the words tumbled
from the edge of his lips, a blast of air whirled around him. The wind’s
fingers plucked at his clothes and buffeted his face, so he crouched and
lowered his head. Just one more verse to go. He yelled the final words, raising
his voice over the increasing howling of the wind.
The living room
dissolved into gray and blue smudges. With a sickening lurch, Robert felt his
body somersault through the air. His concentration vanished into the wind, and
he rolled over himself, his stomach wadding into a knot.
“Abaddon,” he
whispered, “my Keeper. Protect me.”
Only the gale
answered.
Something was wrong.
Why was it taking so long? Why hadn’t he practiced the chant one last time
before rushing to open the portal? If he had made a mistake—even the tiniest of
mistakes—in the runes or the chant, he was as good as dead.
He cupped a hand over
his breast pocket and felt the capsule within.
Cyanide.
He ground his teeth
together. That isn’t the answer. He
wasn’t ready to quit—not yet—and he refused to entertain that idea any further.
He hadn’t worked for twenty years to end up swallowing a pill. My calculations are correct, he reminded
himself as he weathered the storm. But the shrieks of the wind begged to
differ.
Just when it seemed
that his mission—and his life—had come to an end, the gale swept past him and vanished.
Nonspace retreated, and Robert once more felt solid ground beneath him. He
trembled from head to toe and waited for his stomach to stop shuddering before
daring to open his eyes. Although he was gaining skill in the art of astral
jumps—like learning to land on his feet—he hadn’t traveled to other planes
often enough to suppress the wave of nausea that overwhelmed him after each
trip.
He hesitantly opened
one eye, and when he realized his calculations had been, in fact, correct, his
heart skipped a beat. He was crouching on a barren white plane under a blazing
white sky. He couldn’t distinguish a horizon, for there was none to see, only a
tenuous mist a million miles away.
He narrowed his eyes
and looked up at the goddess before him. She stood a few feet to the right, her
slender, bare back turned to him. Her gleaming silver dress streamed from her
shoulders to the spotless, featureless ground, where the fabric dissolved into
ripples that flowed all the way to Robert’s feet. Her golden, waist-length curls
spilled over her shoulder, and she twirled a lock between her fingers as she
stared into the empty distance.
Robert pulled himself
upright. He couldn’t bring himself to take that first step or utter that first
word which would break the beautiful silence between them. He had so much to
offer her…so much to gain from her.
The cream! His hand shot to his pocket. Nothing.
His heart jumped in his throat. He patted his clothes and searched through his
overcoat. Had he forgotten to take the cream along at the last moment? But that
was impossible; he would never forget something so important.
Did they—?
He ran trembling hands
over his entire body. Sweat dampened his armpits and clung in beads over his
lip. He had read sufficient literature on nonspace to understand the dangers of
traveling outside the boundaries of time and matter. Something supernatural
inhabited those corners, and that something had sticky fingers.
But those creatures wouldn’t open my
pockets—would they? He wiped
the sweat from his face. Of course they
would.
The wind had been
prying at his clothes like an impatient child searching for candy, but Robert
had hidden the tube of cream in his pocket and had zipped it closed. But now
the cream was gone. Mugged in nonspace. A
zipper. What was I thinking? Robert could flay himself for his stupidity.
He glanced at the goddess, who stood in silence, either unaware of his arrival
or uninterested. Just then, his hands came across something in one of the open
pockets of his overcoat. He pulled out the white tube of cream and his jaw
dropped open. Those tricksters. But
now was not the time for revenge. He needed to concentrate on his mission.
As if sensing his
rekindled determination, the goddess spoke. “What do you want?” Her lazy words
wove their way across the emptiness toward him and wrapped themselves around
him.
Robert cleared his
throat. “Greetings, my Goddess. It is an honor to be in your presence.” His
voice faltered and he swallowed. “My name is Robert Westbrook.” He bowed his
head. A second flitted by. Another. He cautiously glanced up.
The woman standing
before him had not stirred. The ripples in her dress gently swelled and
receded.
Robert licked his
lips. A pearl of sweat tickled as it ran down his temple. “I have dedicated my
life to finding you. I am your humble servant.” He dropped to one knee.
“How interesting.” The
woman’s sweet voice coiled tighter around him.
She turned, and Robert
gasped for breath. Her eyes were two unsettling black pits speckled with
stars—the cradle of the universe itself.
“Oh, my… I must say…”
Finding words became more and more difficult. “Your beauty has no rival, my
Goddess.”
The woman’s brow
furrowed, and the corners of her mouth sank into an unflattering scowl.
“Yes…beauty.” She lifted her chin. “That is why your kind represent me as an
old man. With a beard and a scythe—and an hourglass. You call me Father?” She pointed at herself. “Look
closely at me. Observe my brilliance! Now imagine me in a black cloak, lugging a useless hourglass and a scythe from one place to another!”
Without uttering a
word, Robert settled his gaze on the ground. It was best not to infuriate her.
“Black is not my color!” she continued. “Have the
Grim Reaper wear black if he so wishes. Not me! I am Time, overseer of the universe!”
Robert waited for her
to finish with a bowed head, his lips pressed together.
“How did you arrive at
my plane?” Time demanded. “For what reason do you dare interrupt my passage?”
Robert took a deep
breath, cleared his throat, and in a smooth, unwavering voice, said, “I have
dedicated my life to the summoning of Devourers and the travel from one astral
plane to another. Years ago, the Devourer Abaddon, my Keeper, suggested I study
your magnificence. Since then, I have spent my life honoring you and
investigating how to contact you. Today, I have achieved my lifelong ambition.
I am finally here, with you.” He smiled. Time did not look impressed. He
swallowed and said softly, “Abaddon informed me of the state of the universe.”
Time awarded him a
withering look. “So you know. Those beasts cannot hold their tongues.”
“We are living in
interesting times.”
“And your prattle is
boring me.” Time turned.
“No! Wait! My Goddess,
I’m here to make a deal, if you would listen to what I have to offer.” Robert
swallowed and his ears clicked. “I wish to buy a bit of time.”
Time gasped, and a
cold breeze swept across Robert.
“Foolish little man!
Buy a bit of me? How dare you insult me!” A purple mist rose from the ground,
making Time’s dress flutter in bubbling waves and locks of her hair dance like
serpents. She swelled into a fifteen-foot colossus, her silhouette
overshadowing the white plane beneath her.
Robert clambered to
his feet and braced himself.
“Many have tried to
beguile me,” Time’s voice thundered from above. “Many have come to me speaking
promises of glory or revenge, but none have succeeded. Why should you be any
different?”
Robert sensibly
stepped back and clasped his hands together. “Please forgive me, my Goddess. It
was not my wish to offend you. I only wish for some time for myself…to enjoy
the expanse of the universe around me. Surely you understand this modest man’s
yearning? If only you had a little time to spare for me, for my purposes, for
my—”
“A little time to spare? Your people only understand divisions of
me—you are too closed-minded to fully grasp my brilliance.” Time brushed her
waving hair away from her face, her voice now breathy and low. “So be it.”
She placed a finger
against her temple and closed her eyes. “Eight hundred and fifty-five billion,
nine hundred seventy-five million, eighty-three thousand, seven hundred, and
eleven years, two months, twenty-six days, four hours, thirty-seven minutes and
nineteen…eighteen…seventeen seconds
is what remains of me, if this helps your organic brain to understand my magnificence.”
She crossed her arms, still scowling, still towering over him.
Despite himself,
Robert smirked and muttered, “Ah, so now I know when you come to an end. Lucky
I won’t be there to see it.” He raised his voice. “All I request is a little
bit of you for myself. Not much, you see. Perhaps something as simple as one
hair from the top of your head. May I ask how much time it would be?”
“Pluck a hair from my
head? Preposterous!” Her voice echoed until it was lost, blended into the mist.
Robert’s lips curled
into the beginning of a smirk. “I have an offer that might interest you, my
Goddess.”
Those words made Time
stop short. The winds receded.
“Just one hair,”
Robert pressed. “In exchange for what I have to offer.”
Time gently pulled at
her locks. “One of these…?” Slowly, her rage ebbed away and she shrank. “Well,”
she murmured as she caressed her hair, “this one is quite long… I would say
this one would be about nine hundred forty-seven thousand, six hundred and
eighty-two years.” Her eyes locked onto Robert’s. “Does your eminence consider
that an adequate amount?”
Robert’s stomach
turned into a simmering lump of coal, and when he spoke, his voice came out
dazed, hardly his own. “Oh, yes, it would be more than enough.”
“And what are you
planning on giving me in return for my generosity? A heartfelt thank you? A
dedication in your memoirs? I have been offered all that before, and have
turned down whoever was foolish enough to believe I could be interested in
honor. Surprise me, please. I would appreciate it if you were more original
than the fools before you.”
Robert gave her a shy
smile, although excitement pulsed through his veins. Now was his moment to
shine. His hand disappeared into his pocket and came back out holding the
unlabeled tube of cream. He held it on his open palm. “I bring this.” His voice
rang out across the empty plane. “Especially made for you.”
Time leaned forward.
“What is it?”
“Please understand I
do not wish to insult you, my Goddess, my Time…but there is something I must
tell you.”
“Tell me what?” She
lifted an eyebrow.
“I have discovered an
imperfection in your otherwise flawless complexion.”
Time’s starry eyes
narrowed. She stared at him, her mouth now no more than a thin crimson line.
Robert nodded to himself. She suspects
something… Now he could chance being more direct.
He lowered his voice
to a murmur. “You wouldn’t want people to begin traveling through them, now would you?”
Time gasped and her
hands flew to her face. Robert’s chest swelled with pride, for he had
discovered her secret, her shameful, embarrassing secret. He knew she
had…wrinkles.
Her fingertips
caressed the tiny web of crow’s feet at the corner of each eye. Robert waited
in silence, still holding out the tube of cream.
Time straightened her
shoulders and said in a huff, “You dare come here and distract me with your
ridiculous request? And now you call me a wrinkly old hag! Presumptuous little
man!” The constellations in her eyes shifted, and, for a speeding second,
Robert thought he saw Sagittarius place an arrow in his bow.
He collected his
thoughts. “Believe me when I say I would never call you anything other than
beautiful. Your beauty is what inspired me to fabricate this cream, to protect
you from harmful cosmic agents. Please take it.
Do not let anything alter your
perfection.”
Time glared at him,
her lower lip trembling. Her shoulders sagged. “My perfection is
gone—adulterated! Millions are using my cursed wrinkles as interstellar
highways.” She sighed and let her head drop in defeat. “They come and go. With
each voyage, they make the furrows run deeper. I do not know what to do.”
Robert caught his
breath. “W—what?” His hand trembled. “No, no! Time, who’s using them? I never
heard of anybody traveling through your wrinkles! They’re so insignificant that
physicists haven’t discovered them yet, much less developed the technology to
send spaceships through them! This cream is for you to erase the lines from
your lovely face before anyone recognizes your flaws and tries to exploit
them.”
Time cocked her head,
locks of hair falling over her face. “What species are you, again?”
“Human.”
The stars in her eyes
dimmed and she waved him away. “I was referring to the Vermeen. They have been
using my misfortune to their advantage for so long.”
“Oh.” Robert lowered
his hand and the tube disappeared into his closed fist. He bit his cheek. So
somebody with the correct technology had
discovered Time’s wrinkles. But wait—that shouldn’t be a problem. If all went
well, an alien race he’d never heard of would lose a priceless method of
transportation. With Time almost ready to do business with him, he couldn’t
care less for the Vermeen and their interstellar highways.
He splashed on a
renewed smile and once more offered the cream. “It looks like you should teach
those Vermeen some respect.”
Time gazed at him,
surprise crossing her face. Robert couldn’t blame her for her distrust, for he
had studied the occult journals of others who had traveled to this astral plane
before him. Seekers of the past had feared the goddess and treated her as
nothing more than a heartless, supernatural creature. Yet for some reason, one
after another had insisted she owed them favors and chastised her with their
petitions. Robert knew better, especially now that God had left the universe.
A thin smile formed on
Time’s lips. “Let me see.” She snatched the tube from his upturned palm. She
uncapped it, squeezed it, and sniffed the pink cream.
“Now, I must inform
you that this is only a trial,” Robert said. “It took me months of
investigation, over a dozen active ingredients, and more than one failure. I
completely trust its safety, but I cannot be sure of its potency until you try
it. If it works and you accept my request, I will make you more.”
“Yes, yes,” Time
answered without looking at him. She dabbed the rich, pearly cream onto her
finger, sniffed it again, and patted it across her face. “Here,” she said as
she handed back the tube.
With both hands, she
massaged the cream onto her forehead and the corners of her eyes while Robert
waited and held his breath. All of a sudden, the untrusting, scowling avatar of
Time vanished, and Robert found himself gazing upon a radiant woman made up of
everything he could ever desire.
“This feels
wonderful!” she said. “I am fed up with all those Vermeen taking advantage of
my flaws. As if it is not embarrassing enough to look at myself and have my
crow’s feet greet me, having mortals use them to travel is simply humiliating.”
Robert gave her a
lopsided grin but kept silent. He was too busy praying for his concoction to
work.
Once Time had finished
spreading the cream across her face and neck, she let out a quick sigh.
He watched her for a
few anxious moments, then leaned forward. “Do you feel it working?”
“Not yet. Wait.” The
stars shivered excitedly in her eyes. She tilted back her head.
Robert’s heart drummed
against his chest while he screwed the lid back on the tube. Then the
inevitable happened. The hem of Time’s dress trembled. Her hands shot to her
face.
“I felt it!”
Robert jumped. “Are
you sure?”
“Yes! A wrinkle closed
while a Vermeen vessel was in mid-trip! That ought to teach them!”
She locked her gaze
onto him. The constellations inside her eyes sparkled brighter than ever. “It
works. Make me more.”
Robert grinned and
bowed. “I will be honored to, but only in exchange for you-know-what.”
Once he had selected
the precious hair he wanted for his own, Time yanked it out and handed it to
him. Robert’s eyes softened as he held the golden thread in his open palms.
Then, without further hesitation, he rolled it up into a ball, popped it into
his mouth, and swallowed it.
He had achieved his
goal, and now time stretched out ahead of him, as endless as all of creation.
He would observe humanity’s plight for the better part of a million years. He
would watch it rise and expand, and he would watch it fall if he had to.
Oh, he expected to
enjoy every moment of it.
