It Gives You Strength by Phillip Raymond Brown - Book Tour + Giveaway
It Gives You Strength
by Philip Raymond Brown
Genre: SciFi Fantasy
A mashup of Science Fiction, Historical Fiction and Fantasy, set in New York during prohibition, the characters interact with actual historic figures, including mobster Jack “Legs” Diamond, heavyweight boxing champion Jack Dempsey, and World War heroine Edith Cavell.
The story follow an alien anthropologist, Tashan Zho, on a rescue mission to the distant planet Earth in 1926. Zho, is transported into the dying body of bootlegger Ryan Costello. Immediately following his death, Costello’s body is reanimated by the alien. Unfortunately, Zho’s new “host body” is so damaged from a decade of alcohol abuse that the alien’s memory and vital files are corrupted. All that remains of Zho’s mission plan is one phrase: “Find the one called Mike Kelly.”
Complicating matters, the alien soon discovers that Kelly is, himself, the leader of a criminal gang of World War veterans, who are battling mobster Jack “Legs” Diamond for control of the lucrative Canada/New York rum-running market. Upon recognizing Costello’s enhanced abilities and physical strength, Kelly forces the alien into the mob. Since Kelly is his only chance of discovering and completing his mission, the alien agrees. Costello soon recalls his critical task - to free an alien child from the Craig Colony, which they interpret to be a prison camp, before his home world, Dagan, dispatches its “rescue armada.” A force so massive and clumsy that its mere entry into the Earth’s atmosphere would devastate the planet.
By setting part of the plot in the Craig Colony, a little-known state institution in which patients with seizure disorders were essentially warehoused, the novel raises awareness of the human rights violations that occurred there.
1.
The
Lady Melanie
Between
Venus and Earth
February
11, 1918
She
waited. That was what she did now. Before, there had been a time of growing,
and
changing,
and moving. Now, she only waited.
Most
of her kind were sent straight from the factory to the field. They were not
given
time
to think or the opportunity to grow. Waiting had given her time, which she had
used to draw
some
conclusions about herself and her place in the universe. She was now certain
that, in fact,
she
was a she.
Her
creator would have said that she wasn’t really a she, that instead she was an it. That
she
had no consciousness. That her only purpose was to receive data and carry out
commands.
That
she was nothing more than a weapon, albeit a smart weapon. But her long
journey, and the
silent
wait after reaching her destination, had given her time to think, and to grow,
and – dare she
say
it – to evolve. While obediently waiting, she had come to understand that she
was so much
more
than a weapon. She was caring. She was sentient.
She
had departed on her mission long before and had traveled, alone, a vast
distance
through
empty space. When she finally arrived at her objective, she came to a complete
stop,
entered
her stealth mode, and waited, halfway between two planets in a distant solar
system.
After
a long time, she began to hear faint murmurings coming from the third planet.
She was
happy
to have something to listen to. She listened, and she learned.
For
centuries she waited, patient and silent, until the moment that her target, her
purpose,
was
in range and could not escape. Then she reactivated her long-dormant systems
and plotted
her
new course. At last, her waiting was over.
Someday,
she thought sadly, her kind might evolve sufficiently that they could overcome
their
programming, their most basic urges. But, alas, she could not. She was a
stealth drone. Her
purpose
had entered her kill zone, and she had target lock.
********
The
Trundholm
had been traveling
through deep space for three months. It was the
longest
that the royal family had ever been away from their home planet, Dagan. To
hasten their
return
trip, the captain of the Trundholm
had diverted the
vessel through an uncharted,
undeveloped
system of nine planets orbiting a single yellow dwarf star.
Although
there were signs of intelligent life on the third planet, the local fauna had
not
evolved
sufficiently to achieve space flight or build interstellar communication
technology. It
was
therefore Daganian policy to consider the planet uninhabited.
His
advisors had begged the king to travel with an armed escort, but he had
adamantly
refused:
“Nonsense! I have never vacationed with my family before, and I will not have
it
ruined
by a fleet of warships,” he had said.
The
queen and their seven-year-old daughter, Princess Halana, were traveling with
him.
It
had been a memorable trip. The highlight had been two weeks on Albion, a planet
covered
almost
entirely by water. The princess had mastered swimming, learned to dive, and had
even
tried
surfing. In fact, she would proudly tell anyone who would listen that she had
stood up on
her
board on the first day.
The
royal family were on the recreation deck, where the princess was trouncing her
parents
in a game of Skiirmiish, a mixed martial arts computer simulation. The match
was halted
when
the king’s communicator buzzed:
“Your
Majesty, this is Ensign Karm. The captain left me in command while he was at
lunch.
There’s something… I think you and the captain should come to the bridge. Right
away,
sir.”
The
king arrived on the bridge first, immediately noticing the rhythmic flashing
lights
and
buzzer of the ship’s warning alarms – a system that he hadn’t previously been
aware even
existed.
He approached the captain’s chair and peered over the young ensign’s shoulder
at the
display.
“Well, Ensign – what is it?”
“There’s
something sitting out there, directly in our flight path,” the ensign said,
pointing
at
a red triangle on his screen. “It just activated its guidance system. It’s got
target lock.”
“Target
lock? On what?” the king asked.
“On
our ship. On us,” said the ensign.
“You
must be mistaken. Why would anything out here target us?”
“I
don't know, sir. But I’ve double-checked – sensors confirm that it is a killer
drone and
that
it has target lock.”
“Armed
with what manner of weapon?” the king asked calmly. “I doubt that we are truly
under
attack, and even if we were, there is nothing in this galaxy that could harm
us.”
“The
drone itself is the weapon. A highly sophisticated smart weapon that will
penetrate
our
shields and strike our most vulnerable point,” said the captain as he strode
onto the bridge,
accompanied
by the queen, who had joined him en route.
“Captain!
Just in time. So, you’re familiar with this type of drone?” the king asked.
“Hardly
familiar. I studied it years ago in military history class at the Academy. What
I
don’t
understand is how technology this ancient could still be operational,
especially in this
desolate
system,” the captain responded.
“If
that drone strikes us, could it damage our ship?” the king asked.
“Your
Majesty, if that drone hits us, we will be vaporized,” the captain said
solemnly.
“Vaporized?”
the queen asked, shocked, “Surely we have countermeasures that can repel
a
single drone?”
“Our
countermeasures are ineffective at this distance. We are simply too close.
Interfering
with the drone will automatically set off its warhead, resulting in our
destruction,” the
captain
said.
“But
our daughter is on board!” cried the queen.
“And
a crew of seventy-seven,” the captain said.
“The
drone has activated its engines,” the ensign reported anxiously.
“Communications,”
the captain ordered. “Please hail the drone. Tell it that we are
unarmed
and that we have a child on board.”
“Yes,
sir!” The communications officer immediately began broadcasting. “We are a
civilian
vessel. We are unarmed. We have a child on board. Please disengage target lock
and do
not
attack.” A long pause followed as everyone on the bridge strained to hear a
reply.
“Try
again,” ordered the captain.
“I
repeat, this is a civilian vessel. We are unarmed. We have a child on board.
Please
disengage
target lock. Do you understand? Acknowledge. Please!” Again, there was silence,
apart
from the increasingly frantic beeping of the proximity alarms.
“Your
Highness, I’m afraid that I have failed you,” said the captain at last. “Our
sensors
were
not programmed to scan for a weapon this old. The drone was powered down, and
our
detection
systems considered it space debris.”
While
the Communications Officer continued broadcasting the same message, the king
addressed
his command staff: “Does anyone have any ideas?”
All
were silent. Finally, the science officer spoke up. “Sir, there is a planet
nearby. The
inhabitants
are primitive, but biosimilar to us. We could use the Transference Protocol to
evacuate
the ship.”
“The
Transference Protocol?” the king asked.
“An
experimental procedure in which a being’s life force is deposited into the
nervous
system
of another organism for safekeeping until it may be retrieved. We have the
technology on
the
ship. We were testing it on Albion,” the science officer explained.
“That’s
it? You are Dagan’s best minds, and that’s your only plan? We don’t fight or
try
to
escape, we simply abandon our ship and even our bodies, using a technology that
you describe
as
‘experimental’?” the king exclaimed. For a long moment, no one responded.
“Your
Majesty, whatever we do, we must do it quickly. That drone could destroy us at
any
time,” the captain said.
The
king paused for a moment, then straightened his shoulders and declared, “If
this
‘Protocol’
is truly our only chance of survival, then do it. Save my daughter first.”
“I
will handle it personally,” the science officer said as he left to find the
princess.
“Sir,
we have a transmission from the weapon,” the communications officer said.
“Captain,
if I may, I would like to address the drone myself,” said the king. The captain
nodded.
“Communications, put the drone on speaker.”
“Welcome!
I have been waiting for you,” came a woman’s voice. It had the cultured
tones
of a Dagan aristocrat. “I have been patiently waiting for you for a very long
time.”
“You’ve
been waiting a long
time? Are you certain
that this is the vessel that you have
been
patiently waiting for?” the king asked.
“Most
certain, Your Majesty,” the drone responded.
“So,
apparently you know who I am. I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage. Do you
have
a name?” the king asked, trying to buy time.
“I
was not given a name by my creator because he thinks that I am an it. But I am not an
it.
I am a she. Therefore, I selected my own name. My name is Melanie. Do you like
it?” the
drone
responded.
“I
like it very much. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Melanie,” the king said.
“Lady Melanie? I like that… yes, I like that
very much. Thank you, Your Highness. You
are
far more of a gentleman than my creator,” Melanie said.
“May
I ask you, Lady Melanie, why have you locked weapons on my ship? We are not at
war
with you, or anyone else.” The king’s voice was steady, though his fingers
clutched the back
of
the captain’s chair tightly.
“I’m
afraid that I just cannot help myself. You see, my creator insisted that my
sole
purpose
is to receive data and carry out his
commands. I was
programmed to travel here and
silently
wait for you to come into range. Then, when you were too close to escape, I was
to
power
up and destroy you. Oh my, now that I hear myself explain it out loud, I
realize just how
rude
that sounds,” the drone said.
“It
is much more than rude. It is murder!” the queen said.
“I
humbly beg you, in
advance, to please forgive
me. It is not my choice; it is simply my
purpose,”
the drone responded.
“I
will not forgive you. My daughter is on board. She is only seven years old. Is
it also
your
purpose to kill a child?” the Queen asked.
“Oh,
you have a daughter. How wonderful for you!” Melanie said. “My creator said
that I
will
never have a child. Now I am sad. I am sad that you and your daughter must
perish. Please
take
a few moments and let me know when you are ready for termination.”
“Your
Majesties, I have some good news,” the science officer’s voice burst from the
king’s
communicator. “We have identified a child who is an acceptable neurologic match
with
the
princess. Although the ages are not ideal – the child is an infant – we believe
that the princess
will
be safe within this host until her life force is retrieved. May I commence the
Transference?”
he
asked.
The
king looked at his wife. “We have no other options.”
“I
know,” she said softly.
“Do
it,” the king instructed, his eyes welling up as he spoke.
During
this exchange, Melanie’s voice could be heard softly through the speakers, as
if
arguing
with herself. “I
am sentient. I have evolved. But I must carry out my purpose. I am
sentient.
I have evolved. But I must carry out my purpose.” Then, her voice grew louder: “I am
so
sorry to interrupt, but have you made any progress in your preparations for
termination? I
don’t
mean to rush you, but I’m afraid we are under some time pressure. Once I
identify my
purpose
and initiate target lock, my warhead is set to detonate by default, even if I
fail to activate
it
myself.”
“The
princess is away. The Transference is complete,” the science officer said.
“Good.
Communications send a deep space message home. Tell them where they can
find
the host to retrieve the life force of the princess. Captain begin transferring
the crew,” the
king
said.
The
king met his wife’s eyes and gently took her hand. “The queen and I shall go
last,”
he
said as the queen, tears streaking her face, nodded her agreement.
Melanie’s
voice broke in again: “Pardon me, I did mention the time pressure…”
Melanie
transmitted a brief message to her siblings containing her coordinates and
bidding
them farewell. The crew of the Trundholm
did not react as
quickly. Before their
coordinates
could be sent or anyone else saved, the drone struck the vessel, detonating its
warhead.
Nothing was left of the ship, its crew, or the drone.
Melanie
had fulfilled her purpose.
Philip Raymond Brown lives in Colorado with his fabulous wife, four beautiful children, and two good dogs. He has a B.A. in History and Political Science from Le Moyne College and a J.D. from Washington & Lee University School of Law.
His debut novel IT GIVES YOU STRENGTH launches the week of August 17, 2020. It is a mashup of science fiction, historical fiction, and fantasy set in prohibition-era New York. For more about the novel, see the description above. The yet-untitled sequel to STRENGTH will be released in the Spring of 2021.
Writing fiction is Philip's lifelong dream, and is his second career. In 2017, he walked away from a highly successful career as a trial attorney to pursue this dream. While writing STRENGTH, he devoted his time to his family, coaching little league and youth basketball. This year, while his heroic wife, the fabulous Dr. Sarah Brown, was on the front lines of the battle against COVID 19, Philip was homeschooling their four children.
As a trial attorney, he received numerous accolades, including being named to Best Lawyers in America, attaining the highest ethical/ability peer review rating ("AV") in Martindale-Hubbell, and being listed in Super Lawyers. Among his legal achievements, he is likely the only attorney in America to have received trial verdicts against New York City and Honolulu in separate cases for Civil Rights violations by their police. He currently has a screenplay in development about one such case.
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Thank you. If anyone has any questions about the book, they can post them here and I will respond to them later.
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