Zero Recall

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Authors: Sara King

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The
Legend of

ZERO:

Zero
Recall

by

Sara King

 

 

 

Copyright © 2013 Sara
King

All Rights Reserved

 

 

No part of this work
may be photocopied, scanned, or otherwise reproduced without express written
consent (begging) of the author.  For permissions and other requests, email
Sara King at [email protected]

(Don’t worry, she’s
really cool.)

 

Published by

Parasite Publications

 

Cover Photography by

NASA and STSci

and the

Hubble Telescope

 

 

 

Disclaimer

 

(a.k.a. If You Don’t
Realize This Is A Work Of Fiction, Please Go Find Something Else To Do)

 

So you’re about to
read about alien war, life on other planets, and intergalactic politics.  In
case you’re still confused, yes, this book is a complete work of fiction. 
Nobody contained within these pages actually exists.  If there are any
similarities between the people or places of
The Legend of ZERO
and the
people or places of Good Ol’ Planet Earth, you’ve just gotta trust me.  It’s
not real, people.  Really.  Yet.

 

 

Books in The Legend of ZERO Series:

 

Listed in
Chronological Order

(because nothing
else really makes sense):

 

Forging Zero

Zero Recall

Zero’s Return

Zero’s Legacy

Forgotten

 

Author’s Note

Zero Recall is different.  If you read it right the first time, it should
blow your mind.  If you read it right the second time, it should blow your mind
again.  It should still be perfectly entertaining the third time through.  It
was an experiment in layers.  Like a cake.  (Or an onion.)

 

 

 

The Parasite Publications Glossary

(Because Somebody’s Gotta Tell You This Stuff!)

Character
author
– That rare beast who lets his or her characters tell the story. 
(And often run completely wild.)

Character
fiction
– Stories that center around the characters; their thoughts, their
emotions, their actions, and their goals.

Character
sci-fi
– Stories about the future that focus on the characters, rather than
explaining every new theory and technology with the (silly) assumption that we,
as present-day 21
st
centurians, know enough to analyze and predict
the far future with any accuracy whatsoever.  I.e. character sci-fi is fun and
entertaining, not your next college Physics textbook.

Parasite
– The Everyday Joe (or Jane) who enjoys crawling inside a character’s head
while reading a book;  i.e. someone who enjoys character fiction.

Furg
– Anyone who believes the best fiction makes your eyes glaze over…unless
the glazing happens because you stayed up all night reading it and you can't
keep your eyes open the next day.  ;)

 

 

 

 

Table of Contents

 

Dedication

Chapter
1
– Forgotten

Chapter
2
– Zero Recall

Chapter
3
– Daviin ga Vora

Chapter
4
– Jer’ait Ze’laa

Chapter 5
– The Hungry Kitten

Chapter
6
– Joe’s Second

Chapter
7
– Joe, Meet Daviin

Chapter
8
– Daviin, Meet Joe

Chapter
9
– Of Bagans and Booze

Chapter
10
– A Stubborn Piji Shell

Chapter
11
– Daviin Learns to Lie

Chapter
12
– To Chip or Not to Chip

Chapter
13
– Syuri

Chapter
14
- Neskfaat

Chapter
15
– The First Prince

Chapter
16
– The Best Laid Plans…

Chapter
17
– The Jreet-Doctor

Chapter
18
– The Trouble with One’s Peers

Chapter
19
– More Important Than a Planet

Chapter
20
– Violent Alien Copulation Techniques

Chapter
21
– The Sentinel and the Assassin

Chapter
22
– Flea Kicks Ass

Chapter
23
– Can’t Take the Heat

Chapter
24
– Ask

Chapter
25
– A Lifetime of Loneliness

Chapter
26
– Piecing it Together

Chapter
27
– Headcom Wars

Chapter
28
– The Lieutenant

Chapter
29
– Mission Over

Chapter
30
– Claustrophobia

Chapter
31
– Wrapping up the Plan

Chapter
32
– Going Straight

Chapter
33
– Sam

Chapter
34
– Billions

Chapter
35
– Ka-par

Chapter
36
– With Great Power…

Chapter
37
– Maggie’s Secret

About the Author

Afterword

Meet Stuey

Sara Recommends

Other Parasite Novels

Glossary

Glossary –
Baga Terms

Glossary –
Dhasha Terms

Glossary –
Huouyt Terms

Glossary –
Jahul Terms

Glossary –
Jreet Terms

Glossary –
Ooreiki Terms

Glossary –
Universal Terms

Glossary –
Species

Glossary –
Measurements

Glossary –
Ranks

 

 

Dedication

For Stuey.

My Muse, my inspiration, my hope.

For Sarah.

She edits
gud
(Editor’s Note:  good…or more correctly, ‘well’. 
Furg.)
.

For Buchanan.

Motivator through the hard times.

And for Chancey.

Who, in the space of a single afternoon, said, “You’re going to write a
book, and it’s going to go like this…”

 

 

CHAPTER 1:  Forgotten

 

Approximately three and a
half billion thoughts raced through Forgotten’s mind at the moment the
Congressional ships surrounded him, but foremost among them was that if things did
not go exactly as planned, he was finally going to join the rest of his species
in prison.

He was very close to
sixty-three percent sure he didn’t want to join the rest of his species in
prison, though that percentage had been on the decline for the last thirty
nanoseconds.  The loneliness had grown difficult for him to bear.  The extreme
solitude was depressing.  The lack of conversation—however inane—was painful. 
He didn’t want to contemplate what would happen when his desire to maintain his
freedom finally dipped beneath fifty percent. 

Thus, watching the ships
converge on him, Forgotten was actually looking forward to the company, vile as
it would be.

The vessels sliding out
of the void around him had been modified to appear old and partially decrepit,
but the uniform perfection of their dilapidation gave their true natures away. 
Even poor merchants took pride in their ships.  If they couldn’t afford a new
heat shield or decent com equipment, they found other ways to pamper their
ships—a lovingly-painted mascot, the addition of teeth, a flourished name, an
unknown logo.

Instead, the ships
pulling up from the blackness around him were perfect in their poverty.  They
had no shiny features, no new paint, no teeth.

Once Forgotten identified
them for what they were, it was simple enough to peer through the disguises and
analyze the armada Congress had sent against him.  And it was certainly an
armada.  Manned by Huouyt and Ueshi, if their reaction times upon noticing his
ship were any indication.  He was somewhat impressed he had ranked so high on
their list of Dangerous Criminals, considering how painstakingly quiet he had
been all these turns.  He did everything he could not to attract attention. 
Not to create waves.

Yet, Forgotten was
lonely.  And, he’d decided, it was time.

Therefore, he held course
as sixteen battleships, five carriers, thirty-five cruisers, and a command
flagship slipped into place around him.  They were static metal and polymers
instead of the sleek black, spherical Geuji-conceived nanotechnology favored by
the Space Force.  His enemies were hoping to catch him unawares, though their
choice to abandon Congressional technology for the rougher, less versatile
static materials greatly increased his chances of eluding them, should he try
to escape.

Instead, Forgotten left
his systems at idle and waited for them to surround him.  He could have evaded
them with only an infinitesimal chance of getting caught by stray fire in the
chase that would follow, but, as time went on and his body grew, he was bored. 
And the Huouyt, psychopathic creatures that they were, were interesting.

As the strange ships slid
into place around him, Forgotten idly calculated his chances of being sent to
Levren to be with his people increasing with each passing nanosecond.  The
chance that his pursuers would simply kill him, out here in the cold of the
Void, surrounded by Congressional Space Force, was increasing as well.  If they
did, he found a certain poetry in the fact that it would be as it always
was—the Geuji were used and forgotten, their deeds taken for granted, then lost
to history.  Stuffed inside some cold, dark cell in silence for eternity as the
world passed around them.

Still, he let them come. 
While Forgotten was by no means brave, he had reached the point he would do anything
to break the solitude.

“Silence,
this is the
Jahul trading caravan
Green Fist.
  What is your purpose on this trade
route?

The dispatch came from
the flagship, though Forgotten doubted the true power lay on board the
frontrunner.  It, like everything else about the armada’s appearance, was a
decoy.

He scanned the other
ships as he listened, finally locating the likeliest command center at the left
rear of the group, a fighter that would have been inconspicuous had it not been
for the single additional lump on its belly.  The shape and size of the lump
suggested a coded, long-distance communications node, the brand of which was
only used by the power-players of Koliinaat, which meant Representative Rri’jan
was along for the ride.  As expected.

Forgotten stretched
himself, enjoying as much stimuli as he could, in case the encounter took an
unforeseen turn and they wrenched him from his ship and imprisoned him with the
rest of the Geuji.  If he failed, it would be the last time he would see, hear,
or feel anything…possibly for the rest of his existence.

Because, as Forgotten had
learned long ago, one and a half million turns after Congress had betrayed and
imprisoned the Geuji, their existence was a myth.  A breath of wind that
brushed scattered minds here and there throughout the eons, only to disappear
again.

Forgotten.  His people
were forgotten.

Only one creature in the
universe still cared about the Geuji, and Forgotten had spent enough time
thinking about them for the rest of the galaxy combined.

A Huouyt’s musical voice hailed
him.  “
This is the Jahul merchant caravan
Green Fist
out of Whuo. 
Identify yourself.
” 

Forgotten cleared his
mind of everything but the task at hand.  He could go back to worrying about
his people later, once he had dealt with the Huouyt.  He didn’t like the
Huouyt.  They, aside from the Geuji, were the smartest creatures in Congress.

They were also
psychopathic killers who did not play well with others, and Forgotten’s desire
to live had not quite dipped below the fifty percent mark just yet.


This caravan is
armed,
Silence,” the Huouyt replied, when Forgotten took an extra moment to
reply.  “
Please identify yourself.
”  The pitch and crispness of the
Huouyt’s voice indicated a seventy-eight turn old Northern Gha’Salaoian from
Sh’ai.  It took only a moment to recognize which one.  Da’najo, one of the sixty-eight
billion Huouyt in his memory.  This particular Huouyt had thoroughly failed his
tests as captain and had paid off one of the administrators to switch his results
with the stellar marks of a poor, common-blooded classmate.  Evading Da’najo
would be easy.  It was the lower-class Ueshi pilots that made up the rest of
the armada that would be challenging, should the upcoming meeting go
unexpectedly wrong.

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