Season two of Space: 1889 and beyond is just about here, and Untred Reads is offering another season pass. More about that soon. But in the mean time here is the press release from Untreed Reads followed by a preview of Conspiracy of Silence, co-authored by Andy Frankham-Allen and myself.
Coming mid-August 2012
The second exciting series of steampunk adventures!
Everything Arthur Conan Doyle thought of,
but never published – because it was too fantastic!
Following on from the success of the first series, Untreed Reads Publishing is proud to present the second series of six books based on the world-renowned Role Playing Game, fully licensed from creator, Frank Chadwick, and headed by best-selling author Andy Frankham-Allen.
The series begins mid-August, and will be released bi-monthly, thus running for a whole year. Once again we’ve brought together some of the best names in fantasy fiction as well as some relatively new names to bring you a series that will continue to re-shape the popular steampunk universe first created almost twenty years ago.
This series our heroes, “Professor” Nathanial Stone and Annabelle Somerset are joined by two others on their journey through the aether. Captain Jacob Folkard, the commander of HMAS Sovereign, and another familiar face. There is much turbulence and change ahead, as secrets are unveiled, mysteries revealed, with the fate of the British Empire hanging in the balance. Think you’ve seen it all? Think again. Join Nathanial, Annabelle, Folkard and guest as they travel from one corner of the Space: 1889 universe to another, from the conspiracies that eat away at the heart of the British Empire to the underworld of Ceres, watch them as they encounter pterodactyls in the clouds above Venus, join them on their longest journey between worlds where it seems their darkest fears follow them all the way to Phobos and the mysteries contained inside that moon… Where will their journey end? Nothing is certain, except that by the end of series two the 1889-verse will be shaken to its very core!
Previously On…
At the end of the last series, Nathanial and Annabelle found themselves in something of a tight spot. Annabelle lost one of her legs due to the machinations of the manipulative French man, Le Boeuf, on an experimental heliograph station, and Nathanial found himself placed under arrest for the destruction of said station. It seemed things were looking up for them after they helped rescue Annabelle’s increasingly mad uncle, inventor Cyrus Grant, and foiled a Russian plan to secure the moon and the alien Heart at its centre. But as series one closed, Annabelle was disheartened by her uncle’s deterioration, despite the support of Lieutenant George Bedford, first officer of the Royal Navy’s flagship HMAS Sovereign, and Nathanial was left to ponder his own future. He hopes that his actions on Luna will give his innocence some credence, but is concerned about the reception awaiting him on Earth… No one but he and Annabelle survived the destruction of Peregrine station, so who is behind the charges levied against him?
Series two begins mere hours from where series one left off,
with the series creator, Frank Chadwick, joining forces with series editor,
Andy Frankham-Allen, to bring you a tour-de-force in Space: 1889
adventure!
The Stories
1. Conspiracy
of Silence by Andy Frankham-Allen & Frank Chadwick2. To Ceres by Steam by Paul Ebbs
3. Leviathans of the Clouds by Steven Savile & David Parish-Whittaker
4. The Forever Journey by Oli Smith
5. A Fistful of Dust by Sharon Bidwell
6. Horizons of Deceit by Jonathan Cooper
The Team
Paul Ebbs
(left, author To Ceres by Steam) has written various Doctor Who
related things for the BBC, Big Finish Productions and BBV, and as a TV writer
he’s written for such notable shows as EastEnders, Casualty, The Bill and
Dead Ringers.
Exclusive: Conspiracy
of Silence (prologue)
1.
“AETHER PROPELLOR
SECURED and ventral mast shipped, sir.”
“Very good, Mister
Barry.” Lieutenant George Bedford, acting captain of HMAS Sovereign, the
most modern aether battleship in the Royal Navy, took a quick scan of the
bridge instruments and engine room repeaters before turning back to the young
sub-lieutenant. “At what would you estimate our drop, Mister Barry?”
Barry had only worn
the single thick stripe of a sub-lieutenant for eight months and Bedford hadn’t known him
as a midshipman. The youngster had a good level head on his shoulders, Bedford
had learned that much about him several weeks earlier when the two of them had
dropped half a dozen Saltators—giant lunar red ants—with revolver fire when the
monsters had boiled unexpectedly out of the hatch of a cutter on the docking
bay. His technical skills were another matter, but they were coming along.
Barry squinted
through the lens of the horizontal inclinometer, aimed out the bridge’s
starboard observation blister, consulted his pocket watch, waited ten seconds
and took a second reading through the lens. He paused, doing the calculation in
his head.
“I make the drop
fifty-five fathoms per second, sir.”
“Fifteen percent
buoyancy, aye, sir,” the petty officer answered and went to work on his forest
of levers, each controlling the angle of one of the liftwood louvers which
covered much of Sovereign’s lower hull.
“Mister Barry, my
compliments to Lieutenant Boswell and he may light the coal boilers at his
discretion.”
“Sir.”
They wouldn’t have
enough atmospheric oxygen for the boilers for another ten minutes or so, but
Boswell, the chief engineer, knew that well enough. The sun was still visible
above the curvature of the Earth and would remain so all the way down through
cloud-free skies. Although it was not yet day in Southern
England , the eastern sky would already be pink and the sun would
rise full up in the hour their descent from orbit would take, racing as they
were toward the dawn. The solar boilers would do until Boswell put the black
gang to work, would probably suffice until the last ten minutes of the flight,
when they would penetrate the near-permanent cloud and smoke cover over Greater
London. No solar boiler yet made would work down under that grey-brown shroud.
More than that, she
held memories. Were it not for his assignment to HMAS Sovereign, he
would never have met and befriended Nathanial Stone, and would not now be
delivering him to the police for trial as a traitor and saboteur. He would
never have met Cyrus Grant, one of the greatest scientific minds of the age,
now reduced to confusion and madness by their experiences on Luna. Most
importantly, he would never have met Grant’s niece, Annabelle Somerset.
Annabelle…
2.
NATHANIAL WATCHED AS
the line of Russian former captives was led to the steam omnibus waiting at
dockside. The irony of their situation and his washed over him like a cold
wave. Former enemies of Britain ,
they, along with British personnel, had been captured by the alien Drobates on
Luna, and all had been rescued by Bedford ’s
daring raid, leading fewer than a dozen Royal marines and naval ratings. Now
the Russians would be released, amidst much public fanfare, to the custody of
the Russian ambassador, who would in turn express the heartfelt gratitude of
the Tsar.
In the subsequent
fighting which had nearly cost all of them their lives, the Russians had done
nothing to help while Nathanial, with a captured Drobate electric rifle, had
held a long, dim tunnel against an alien horde, and had done so nearly alone and
with little expectation he would escape with his life. Now British soldiers
helped the Russians into the steam omnibus, showed them every courtesy, while a
quartet of hard-eyed constables marched purposely toward Nathanial, obviously
intent on taking custody of him from the two Royal Marines who guarded him.
Nathanial had at
least expected to be met by some sort of government official, have the charges
explained. Instead a black police four-wheeler loomed behind the constables.
Were they really simply going to pack him up and cart him off to prison with no
further ado?
Nathanial looked for
any sign of his friends. Captain Folkard, who had relieved himself of command
of Sovereign after the disastrous events on Luna had played themselves
out, was nowhere to be seen on the dock, but Nathanial spied Annabelle making
her way to him on the arm of Lieutenant Bedford, both of them limping. Bedford had suffered a
nasty sprain of his ankle on Luna and Annabelle… Months earlier Annabelle had
lost her right leg above the knee and now wore a mechanical limb designed by
Nathanial and built using Drobate technology over the course of the last few
weeks. It seemed to serve her well, the only bright spot in this uniformly
bleak scene.
“Is this Stone?” the
leading constable asked.
“Of course it is,”
Private Jones answered, bristling slightly. “And what of it, then?”
“It’s all right,
Private,” Nathanial said. “It is clear enough they are here for me. If you
gentlemen would be so good as to give me a moment to take my leave of my
friends, I would appreciate it.” He addressed this last to the leading
constable.
Instead the man
gestured to his assistants. “Seize him and put him in the van.”
“No! Just a moment,
please!” Nathanial entreated but to no avail.
Two constables pinned
his arms to his side and pulled him toward the black carriage. A few yards away
Annabelle cried out and broke free of Bedford ,
reached out to him. The leading constable made as if to stop her but Jones’s
rifle was suddenly in his hands at high port.
“Touch the lady,
friend, and you’ll be chokin’ on your teeth,” Jones growled and the constable
took a step back.
“Nathanial,”
Annabelle said and thrust something round, flat, and metallic into his hand,
“take this and remember—never lose hope.”
The constables pulled
him away and he saw George Bedford comforting Annabelle as the doors on the
back of the van closed and plunged him into darkness. He looked at his hand and
saw a small gold watch, gleaming dully in the faint light which entered through
the overhead ventilator. He recognised it as the pocket watch her father had
given her—which contained on its inside a daguerreotype of her deceased
parents; the only thing she retained from that former life.
Never lose hope.
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