BooksBarbecue
Back Adrift Save as PDF

Adrift

W. Michael Gear
Chapters (102)
  1. Cover
  2. DAW BOOKS PROUDLY PRESENTS THE SCIENCE FICTION NOVELS OF W. MICHAEL GEAR:
  3. Dedication
  4. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. 61
  66. 62
  67. 63
  68. 64
  69. 65
  70. 66
  71. 67
  72. 68
  73. 69
  74. 70
  75. 71
  76. 72
  77. 73
  78. 74
  79. 75
  80. 76
  81. 77
  82. 78
  83. 79
  84. 80
  85. 81
  86. 82
  87. 83
  88. 84
  89. 85
  90. 86
  91. 87
  92. 88
  93. 89
  94. 90
  95. 91
  96. 92
  97. 93
  98. 94
  99. 95
  100. 96
  101. EPILOGUE
  102. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Cover

Cover for Adrift

DAW BOOKS PROUDLY PRESENTS THE SCIENCE FICTION NOVELS OF W. MICHAEL GEAR:

The Donovan Series

Outpost

Abandoned

Pariah

Unreconciled

The Team Psi Series

The Alpha Enigma

Implacable Alpha*

The Spider Trilogy

The Warriors of Spider

The Way of Spider

The Web of Spider

The Forbidden Borders Trilogy

Requiem for the Conqueror

Relic of Empire

Countermeasures

Starstrike

The Artifact

*Coming soon from DAW

Dedication

TO BRIAN AND LEXIE YARRINGTON

FOR ALL THE YEARS OF BEER, FOOD, AND FELLOWSHIP.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Special appreciation goes to my old and dear friend, Sheila Gilbert, for standing by me through the insanity of a changing literary world. By the time this is published, we can only hope that political censors are a thing of the past and authors can write from their hearts without fear of reprisal. To better days and a return to freedom of speech. Thanks, Sheila, for helping to weather the storm and for your continued faith in the Donovan books.

As always, my beloved Kathleen—center of my heart and the axis of my universe—has supported, been critical of, and kept the creative blood flowing through the Donovan universe. All that I am is because of her. You wouldn’t be reading this if Kathleen hadn’t been willing to seize the dream all those years ago when we were eating pizza on our first date. I owe her so much.

1

The long ocean swells might have been on Earth. Physics are physics after all. The same on Donovan as in the Pacific, Atlantic, or Indian Oceans; though the water here was a deeper blue—a sort of royal turquoise. These waves were running about a meter and a half, occasionally cresting into whitecaps as the foam was wicked off in streamers.

The warm wind, too, could have been on Earth; it carried odors of salt and spray. It blew in from the northeast, gusting against the curved walls of the Maritime Research Unit’s Pod. The Pod was essentially a two-story sialon tube set north-south on pilings. With a small landing pad on the roof, a deck that could be raised or lowered to sea level on the northeast, and the Underwater Bay, a submerged submarine hanger and ocean access, the wind-blown tube now functioned as humanity’s lonely base for the exploration of Donovan’s oceans.

If Scientific Director Michaela Hailwood was any judge of the weathervane atop the station’s high mast, it was blowing from about forty degrees and pushing close to ten knots. Overhead, low puffy bits of cloud rode the zephyr. Torn and twisted by turbulence, they seemed to dance against a background of higher cirrus in Donovan’s deeper-blue sky.