Extra Galaxia: Science Agent Jules Santros has two problems: he has to save the universe and avoid falling in love with beautiful secret operative ‘Manda Mooney at the same time!

Extra Galaxia: Sci/Fi

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BLURB: Extra Galaxia

Science Agent Jules Santros has two problems: he has to save the universe and avoid falling for beautiful ‘Manda Mooney, sometime secretary for the Terran Consortium’s Exterior Ministry but actually a secret operative with orders to keep him under surveillance. On assignment from Military Intelligence, Science Division, Jules is on the trail of a group of renegade scientists that plan on using dangerous black hole technology to tip the balance in Earth’s war against the Outer Arm Coalition. Only thing is, use of such banned tech will set off an interstellar chain reaction that could consume the entire galaxy! Now, follow Jules and ‘Manda as they team up and travel beyond known space to catch the conspirators and prevent Terran defeat in its war with the Coalition!

EXCERPT: Extra Galaxia

Jules was wakened from a nap by the dull tones of the ship’s anunciator, signaling a message from the pilot’s cabin.

“Attention, passengers. We are now entering the orbit of Jupiter. Please return to your seats and engage gravitic harnesses. As you know, Callisto is the outermost of Jupiter’s four moons and as such does not experience the mean motion resonance that the inner moons do with the mother planet. However, the Jovian system’s celestial mechanics being as complex as they are, approaching Callisto is always a little tricky. Our approximate arrival at Artemas Colony will be in about four hours. Thank you for your cooperation.”

There was the usual excited mutter among the passengers at such news, something that proved contagious.

“Almost there,” said Mooney, with a smile in her voice. “Wait till you see Artemas Colony. The name doesn’t do it justice.”

“It’s just another vacation spot,” insisted Jules, knowing that his cavalier attitude would only encourage the woman’s enthusiasm. “You’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. Food, swimming, gaming, and more food.”

“Of course, but this is Callisto. It’s not just any old resort getaway. The pools are fed from an underground ocean and warmed by the light of Jupiter itself. You can swim from one pool to another over a hundred square miles of domed protection. Ever hear of the jungle pool complex? For the right price, you can spend a week in there without ever meeting another human being. Just swimming and lounging under the foliage with that big colorful planet hanging over you like a huge balloon.”

“For at least a couple weeks at a time,” reminded Jules. Like most moons, Callisto showed only one face to Jupiter at all times. He had to admit, that jungle complex sounded interesting…with the right company of course. Looking at Mooney, there was no doubt she would be that kind of company. It was with difficulty Jules reminded himself that he had someone he was crazy about waiting for him back on Mars, and in protective custody at that.

Mooney waved her hand in dismissal.

“So, you plan to use the jungle complex when Jupiter is overhead,” she said. “There’s still something to be said about the jungle at night, when Callisto passes behind the planet. Picture it when Callisto comes out of its shadow and the sun comes up again. Beautiful.”

“Okay, I’ll admit it sounds nice.”

“There’s the nightclubs, the restaurants, casinos, tours of the inner moons, the fast ‘cars and slow dancing at the famous Lounge,” continued Mooney. “I won’t even mention the fully equipped honeymoon suites where I’m told some couples stay and don’t come out for weeks.”

“You sure you don’t work PR for the resort in your spare time?” asked Jules, not liking where Mooney was taking her travelogue. He was saved further discomfort by another announcement from the pilot.

“As we prepare to fire retro-thrusters, passengers are encouraged to watch their seat monitors for a good view of our final approach to Callisto.”

Jules waved his monitor on, hoping his action would prevent Mooney from continuing her hard sell.

Instantly, an image of Callisto’s brownish face filled the screen as the moon, almost the size of Mercury, grew larger quickly with the action of the liner’s thrusters. In no time, Jules was able to make out its craggy surface, one of the most battered in the solar system, where it was not obscured in wisps of carbon dioxide of which its thin atmosphere was composed.

That was all right because Artemis Colony, as cities were on Mars, was protected by a dome. In this case, the largest free-standing dome anywhere in the Consortium. One that covered almost one hundred square miles of the Callistan surface beneath which were the resorts, famous or notorious, depending on your point of view, throughout a dozen star systems.

“There it is,” pointed out Mooney as the dome gleamed in the reflected light of Jupiter that hung in the background like some huge, unreal beach ball.

It was an impressive sight, Jules had to admit. Made of the strongest polymers in the plas-glass family, it offered a completely unrestricted view of Jupiter and its other moons in the sky overhead. And as they drew closer, he could make out structures that here and there dotted the thick canopies of landscaping and white ribbons of smartways that swooped among the different regions of the resort. Constructed within a chain of ancient impact craters, the dome was anchored by a series of steep ridges thrown up by meteors that must have struck as group millions of years before.

Now Jules caught the glitter of open water dotting a jungle of plant life taken from every corner of the Consortium and fed by pumps that brought up water from the moon’s buried oceans. Suddenly, the sound of the thrusters changed pitch and passenger seating began to realign as the liner assumed its vertical landing position. On the monitor, Jules saw the forest of gantries that marked the colony’s rocket port grow quickly as the liner came in for a landing. Everywhere, rockets of all types sat upright in takeoff position or lay in cradles for servicing. Tiny vehicles darted among them while enclosed passenger debarkation slidewalks moved thousands of eager vacationers efficiently through terminals with a minimum of delay.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” asked Mooney.

“We’re just passing through,” Jules reminded her.

“We have eight hours before our connecting flight. Time to look around a bit.”

That’s what I’m afraid of, thought Jules as a cradle just below them disappeared from the monitor and the final rumble of landing told him they had reached the surface. Immediately, as with passengers anywhere in the Consortium, everyone stood up at once trying to get their carry-on bags and hurry to the exits.

“Looks to me like these people can’t wait to start their fun,” observed Mooney.

Amid the tumult, the pilot’s voice was saying something over the annunciator, but no one heard him. Waiting until the rush had passed, Jules allowed Mooney to lead the way from the cabin and onto the enclosed passenger catwalk to a down capsule in a nearby gantry. The ride to the bottom was swift and a slidewalk moved them efficiently into one of the busy port’s six terminals. Inside, they were ringed by shops and restaurants while overhead, suites were available for business people or travelers making connecting flights. For everyone else, a grand concourse led directly beneath the main dome.

“You know, I just got an idea,” said Mooney, heading for the information desk where dozens of uniformed hostesses were answering questions and pointing out the various attractions of Artemas Colony to eager visitors. “It might be that Heintzle had no intention of going on to Alpha Centauri. Maybe that was just a ruse and his real destination was right here on Callisto.”

Wary that Mooney’s intention was a ploy to get him inside the resort, Jules had to admit the idea made just enough sense to make it worth checking out.

A station at the counter opened up, and Mooney was quick to move in.

“We’re looking for some friends who were supposed to be here before us,” she told the young hostess. “Could you look them up and tell us what suite they’ve taken?”

“Certainly,” said the hostess. “Who are you looking for?”

“Manda Sandoz.”

The hostess repeated the name to her computer.

“Yes. A person by that name is registered.”

“Bingo,” said Mooney, winking at Jules.

“The party is registered to Suite 2041, building sixteen. We call it the Red Spot resort. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“No, thank you.”

“He’s here,” said Mooney as she and Jules walked away from the information desk and headed for the line of aircars awaiting passengers outside the terminal.

“It appears so, but don’t you think it’s all a little too obvious? Even signing himself in again as Manda Sandoz? I smell another trap like the one back at Aeroflotilla.”

Mooney’s enthusiasm cooled somewhat. “You’re right. It is too pat. But can we afford to ignore it?”

“Unfortunately, no,” said Jules holding the door to the aircar open for her. “Let’s check it out fast, because I think we’ll still have a rocket to catch when we’re done.”

Mooney gave the aircar the building number and all they could do at that point was enjoy the scenery which was quite appealing with its variety of buildings done up all in clear-plas and gleaming white foamacrete and swathed in lush landscaping filled with every kind of colorful flower.

If you had to spend a couple weeks honeymooning,thought Jules, this would be the place.Of course, he had found a mapping expedition to the Rigel system just as pleasant when he and Joan had combined business with pleasure during their own honeymoon.

Those pleasant memories were cut off as the aircar halted before a towering foamacrete building whose twenty floors were studded by balconies festooned with creepers and crawling ivy dotted with blue flowers.

“Manda must be the romantic type,” said Mooney, craning her neck. “He took the penthouse floor.”

Stepping across the busy lobby, they entered an up capsule that swiftly took them to the twentieth floor. There, the spacious corridor was empty of foot traffic and tastefully appointed with mood generating stereopticals.

“Fancy,” remarked Mooney, scanning the numbers on the doors. “Here it is. Number 2041.”

“Hold it,” warned Jules. “Let’s take it slow.”

He motioned for Mooney to stand off to the side, out of the way of the door opening. As she did so, a small hand laser appeared in her hand. Where did she get that?Jules wondered.

“Hello, we’d like to see Manda Sandoz,” Jules told the suite comp. He felt ridiculous asking for the pseudonym when it was Georg he expected to find inside. Maybe the suite comp hadn’t been programmed to recognize any other name. In any case, it made no reply.

“Is Georg Heintzle in residence?” Jules tried again when the suite comp failed to answer to Manda Sandoz.

Still nothing.

“What now?” asked Mooney from where she stood, back to the wall.

“We override the suite comp,” said Jules, pulling out his trusty telcomm. He contacted the resort’s mainframe and punched in his MI passcode. With barely a discernable delay, he was recognized and number 2041’s suite comp overridden.

“Open the door,” Jules told the ‘comp.

Immediately, the door slid aside, but Jules did not enter. A cool draft of air wafted from the room beyond. Warily, he leaned forward for a better look, but the view did not improve. The suite was completely empty of any kind of appliance or article of furniture. The clear-plas windows on the far side of the salon showed the huge bulk of Jupiter outside, its famous red spot nearly filling the entire view. Even the floor was bare of any kind of carpeting or isotexture.

“Anything wrong?” Mooney wanted to know.

“Not sure,” said a cautious Jules. “Pretty frigid in there though. Like the climate controls have been shut down.”

“Well, we can’t stay out here. We have to investigate. I’ll back you up.”

“Okay. Keep your eyes open. Something’s not right here.”

Tentatively, Jules stepped into the room, shivering slightly as his body adjusted itself to the change in temperature. Must be about forty-five degrees in here, he thought. Sensing Mooney’s presence at his back, he moved farther in. Still nothing. Doorways gave access to other rooms on the right and on the left, a short corridor likely led to bedrooms.

“I’ll check the kitchen and lavatory areas, you check the bedrooms,” said Jules without turning.

“Right, I—”

Mooney had no time to finish what she was saying because suddenly there was a shudder beneath their feet and an instant later, Jules could have sworn he saw the floor around the edges of the salon shift and wave. Then he was positive when all at once, the floor turned to a kind of liquid and began flowing toward the center of the room, toward them.

“Get out,” shouted Jules, turning to shove Mooney toward the door.

Unfortunately, he was too late. The liquid covering the floor contracted toward them, swooped up and over and in seconds they found themselves in darkness, enclosed in a giant metallic ball.

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