Tuesday, September 20, 2011
New Release for Decadent Publishing - Kybernatia
Available from Decadent Publishing
Kybernatia by Clare Dargin
Kybernatia was supposed to be humanity’s newest paradise but that dream is all but gone. Ruined in an horrible terra forming accident, the planet was deemed no longer fit for humanity. Gabrielle Burle, project manager for the development of the planet, was forced out of her job as a veil of secrecy suddenly shrouded the planet.
Determined to find out why or how it could happen, Gabrielle goes on a journey of discovery that leads her two one man who she knows has all the answers.
“What do you now? May I ask? Your file didn‟t say,” she asked, walking beside him. Her heels ground into the soil just beneath the soft grass.
“It didn‟t? How much of my file did you read?”
“Most of it,” she smiled.
“What is it again that you wanted?” he asked, eyeing the gear piled at the door. Gathering up an armful, he headed toward the garage.
“I wanted to ask you why you left,” she responded thoughtfully.
“Burle, but you can call me Gabrielle.”
“Ms. Burle, that is an immensely private question and we‟ve only just met. And as you can see, I have much to do. And I have to get it done before my wife comes back. So if you will excuse me?”
“Mr. Mezey, please. I need to speak with you.”
“Call me Gabrielle.”
“Gabrielle, I‟m not telling you. First, as I stated earlier, that‟s an immensely private question. Aside from my wife, I owe no one any explanations. Besides, how do I know you are who you say are?”
“Do you have an Ident-screen?”
“That can be faked. I‟ve seen the latest news.”
“Call them. Call Washington. Call anybody you know.”
“You don‟t seem to understand. I don‟t know anyone in Washington anymore. That‟s what happens when you lose your job. It‟s also what happens when the president loses his job. But that‟s another topic.”
“Call Secretary Tillbury.”
“The head of the Department of Non-Human Relations? Do you think I actually have his number?”
“He has yours. I‟ll have him verify who I am.” She pulled out a signal-link messenger.
“No, that won‟t be necessary. And I‟m still not going to tell you.” Glancing skyward, Gabrielle sighed. “Mr. Mezey, please.”
Stopping in front of the porch next to his patio, James sighed, paused, and shook his head. “Why do you want to know?”
“Because I‟ll be starting your old job soon and I want to know why they forced you out.”
“Why? So it won‟t happen to you?”
She looked away.
“I suppose I ought to be flattered, really, that somebody still cares about what I think.” Pausing for a moment, he glanced at the pile at the boat house and then at Gabrielle. “I didn‟t feel like cleaning out the boathouse anyway. Come on. Let‟s go inside. This is not a conversation for the neighbors.”