Verwandte Artikel zu Daughters of Forgotten Light

Daughters of Forgotten Light - Softcover

Grigsby, Sean

 
9780857667953: Daughters of Forgotten Light
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0857667955 ISBN 13: 9780857667953
Verlag: Angry Robot, 2018

Inhaltsangabe

A floating prison is home to Earth's unwanted people, where they are forgotten... but not yet dead, in this wild science fiction adventure

Deep space penal colony Oubliette, population: scum. Lena "Horror" Horowitz leads the Daughters of Forgotten Light, one of three vicious gangs fighting for survival on Oubliette. Their fragile truce is shaken when a new shipment arrives from Earth carrying a fresh batch of prisoners and supplies to squabble over. But the delivery includes two new surprises: a drone, and a baby. Earth Senator Linda Dolfuse wants evidence of the bloodthirsty gangs to justify the government finally eradicating the wasters dumped on Oubliette. There's only one problem: the baby in the drone's video may be hers.

File Under:Science Fiction [ Banged Up |Out of Mind |Girls Gone Bad | Moppet in Space ]

Die Inhaltsangabe kann sich auf eine andere Ausgabe dieses Titels beziehen.

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

SEAN GRIGSBY is a professional firefighter in central Arkansas, where he writes about lasers, aliens, and guitar battles with the Devil when he’s not fighting dragons. He grew up on Goosebumps books in Memphis, Tennessee, and hosts the Cosmic Dragon podcast.

seangrigsby.com
twitter.com/seangrigsby

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Chapter 1
 
That’s one thing they never told Lena Horror about space – how damn dark it is. Her gang sped down the glowing glass streets of Oubliette, but it was only a tease of light, false and too dim for comfort.
Their cyclone motorcycles didn’t exactly have wheels, even though Grindy had always called them that. They were round like wheels, they spun like wheels, but the bikes hovered on swirling circles of blazing light. Pretty as Christmas in Hell and three times as hot.
No wind blew on Oubliette, but Lena wasn’t about to let that stop her. If she just went fast enough the illusion of wind could be created. She adored feeling her hair thwap against the back of her shoulders and tickle her ears, the flapping brown strands a lot louder than the low hum of two-wheeled death between her legs. But most of all, she liked how the cyclones lit up the city, piercing the shadows and letting everyone know, when they saw blue light bouncing off the buildings, the Daughters of Forgotten Light were coming.
Always traveling in a V formation, they rode five strong now. Only a month before it had been six. Even missing a rider, their bikes took up the street’s width and anyone in their path had better move or get run down. Riding like that, each Daughter was at another’s side. If another gang shot at them from behind, they had more chance of seeing it coming, or at least one of the sheilas in the back could scream an alert before the rest of the Daughters got blasted.
There was a truce on, wasn’t there? Truce or no, Lena wasn’t about to drop her guard. Lena told herself a leader shouldn’t question her own decisions, just like those under her shouldn’t challenge them. Did they think paranoia had her all fucked up? This was still Oubliette, and trust had long gone extinct.
“The shipment just came through the Hole,” Hurley Girly shouted from Lena’s right. Her blond pigtails bounced as she whipped her head up, looking to where the box hurtled toward them like a meteor.
Shit. Lena could have spit if she didn’t think one of her gang would have caught it in the face.
Beyond Oubliette’s towering buildings, outside the city’s green, fabricated atmosphere – the Veil – the quarterly shipment jetted from the space gate. The Veil made Oubliette a sprawling roach motel. Whatever came in never went out, and that included all the stale air, and all the sorry sheilas confined to the city.
Lena had watched every shipment entry over the last ten years. That made her – she always had to take a minute to remember – twenty-seven. The other Daughters were only a few years younger, except for Hurley Girly, who’d turned twenty the last quarter.
The shipment was the same metal box it always was, coming from Earth with the same fanfare. Emptiness and starlight filled the circle made by an oversized, ivory gate – the Hole – and then snap, a new shipment came through with a couple thrusters to guide it. A million miles cut out of the trip, so the shipment could reach its eternity quicker. At least, that’s how hyper drive was explained to them before they left Earth.
Faster, damn it!
Lena leaned into her cyclone, but she had her bike at full speed and all tapped out of patience. She just had to ride. The street curved round into a ramp that rose between the upper floors of two adjacent buildings then dipped into a steep drop. The downward slope helped, but the shipment neared and, fuck it all, they were late. It was the only disadvantage of claiming territory across the Sludge River and far away from the main thoroughfares, where trouble always waited.
Above the Daughters, the shipment broke through the Veil and green static sizzled around the descending metal, waves rippling outward toward the horizon like digital gelatin until the expanse settled again.
Two klicks still separated them from the receiving stage.
“They’re not taking this from us,” Lena shouted. “We’ve got first pick this time.”
Someone was waiting for them at the bottom of the ramp, a dark shape against a dark canvas, save the minuscule lights scattered throughout the dwellers’ buildings. Their unexpected guest had been leaning against her cyclone when the Daughters rounded the curve, but now she jumped onto her bike.
For a millisecond, a quiver in time, Lena considered slowing the gang behind her. But that would mean more seconds lost and the first choice of the delivery going to another gang. Worse, it would show weakness. Lena ground her teeth and let the false wind push her hair back. The bitch at the bottom of the ramp would have to make way or get flat.
The mystery woman lit up her cyclone – orange wheels. Amazon colors.
Those cheeky….
It wasn’t enough that just a few quarters ago – before the truce – the Amazons had been hunting down dwellers under the Daughters’ protection, butchering them in alleys and leaving behind the parts they didn’t have a taste for. Now, they’d left one of their own behind to fuck with Lena and her gang.
This Amazon was the scrawny one, the one with the busted teeth Ava gave her for making cracks about her Down syndrome. Even in the low glow of the glass street, Lena could tell it was her. The Amazon didn’t try to run. By the looks of it, she controlled her speed to stay at Lena’s right side.
Lena gripped her cyclone’s handles and smiled, wide and crazy. The rushing air dried the inside of her mouth. Try it. I want you to. Raise your arm and give me a reason. Please.
The rang gun on Lena’s forearm pulsed to the same beat as her blood, begging to be discharged. When had she shot it last? Long ago enough to have flashing delusions she’d never fired it at all, like how aging hookers-turned-nuns could convince themselves they’d always been virgins.
Lena raised her left hand above her head, shaping it as straight as a shark fin, keeping her eyes bobbing from the street ahead, to the Amazon at her right, then back. The Daughters’ wheels sparked and hummed in a slightly different octave. She didn’t have to look. Her sheilas changed formation, gathering in a line behind her.
The Amazon’s hair stood straight in a long mohawk. The streaks of purple and red staining the strands looked like a chemical fire in the glow of her cyclone’s wheels. The colorful sludge the Amazons put in their hair was just one of the specialty items commissioned from Grindy – one of the reasons the Amazons didn’t try to kill everyone and take over Oubliette. Lena thought the mohawk would make an excellent trophy when she cut it off at the scalp, brought it back to the ganghouse, and glued it to a wall.
But that damned truce. It ruined Lena’s fantasies as quickly as they came. She knew it was for the best in the end. A means to create some form of order in the chaotic city. Still.
Do it, you twat.
The Amazon made no motion to raise her weaponed arm; only scrunched her face in a disdainful frown. A burn scar ran from her left cheek, down her neck, and then farther into the dark of her jacket. She was trying hard to keep her mouth squeezed shut, hiding the fucked-up grill.
Ahead, maybe a klick or less, the lights for the shipment receiving stage blasted on. The shipment, that big box of metal, hovered above the stage as if it had met the resistance of an invisible pillow. Slowly, it came down.
As much as Lena couldn’t stand the mohawked Amazon’s ugly mug, it became worse when she tilted her head and smirked. It was the eyes, twitching with secrets. I know something you don’t. Lena’s own grin faltered and she had...

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Verlag
Angry Robot
Erscheinungsdatum
2018
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0857667955
ISBN 13 
9780857667953
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
352
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Angry Robot
https://www.angryrobotbooks.com

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