Jon Saboe The Days of Peleg

ISBN 13: 9781598008098

The Days of Peleg

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9781598008098: The Days of Peleg

Why is humanity dying?
   It is now one hundred years since the Great Awakening, and the human race is finally colonizing the world with new settlements and centers of commerce. Reu-Nathor, High Minister of the Citadel, announces an expedition to explore their new world, and Peleg is commissioned as Chief Cartographer aboard the Urbat.
   Peleg's core beliefs are challenged and his sense of reality is undermined by the new cultures and tremendous tragedies he encounters during his twelve-year voyage. But he has also been given a secret mission to discover the answer to the one question that no one dares to ask aloud: Why is the human race dying?
   What he discovers forces Peleg to re-evaluate all he has ever known--and also provides him with staggering revelations that will determine the eternal destiny of the entire human race!

About The Days of Peleg  
   The Days of Peleg is an action-filled, yet thought provoking epic which combines the enigmas and mythologies of ancient civilizations with the intrigue of hard science fiction. Issues as diverse as origins, linguistics, and phenomenology are concealed within an exciting narrative that boasts diverse characters embarked on an unimaginable journey. You will never think of ancient man in the same way again.
   The Days of Peleg provides an exhilarating yet entertaining look at who we once were--and who we may one day become.

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About the Author:

Jon Saboe resides in Baltimore, Maryland, with his lovely wife, Valory, where he works as a Network Administrator.
He received his Masters Degree from Johns Hopkins University, and currently guest lectures in area schools on Information Theory and Intelligent Design.
He is also a concert pianist, an avid chess enthusiast, and a practitioner of jiu-jitsu.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.:

He had one magnesium button left. The ship's chemist, Mentor Thaxad, claimed he had calcined it from dolomite, along with some other strange words. It was not something Peleg had been trained in, but he knew these buttons were used for signaling and starting fires. Thaxad's "secret mix" was coated in some kind of oxide, and sealed in a waterproof ceramic shell with casein. A small, second chamber was on top of the button, and Peleg began to generate as much saliva as he could muster while his pursuers closed in on him.
Once he had a mouthful, he filled the reservoir with spit and tore a small piece of cloth from his shirt with his teeth. They were almost to the table now, and he could sense them crouching down. He plugged the chamber with the cloth, and rushed out from under the table, ramming into their knees. He plowed through them, their hands reaching for him as they turned from the table. He raised the button and flung it as hard as he could against the wall, burying his face inside of his other elbow.
A sideways jet of white-hot flame erupted from the wall as the container crashed and the contents of the two chambers mingled. The pursuers screamed in agony and threw their arms over their faces as the wall which they had been looking at became incandescent. Peleg uncovered his eyes, and in the afterglow he saw the long staircase from which the second group had descended. Glancing around the room he saw books, maps and even some charts. He even thought he recognized some Aenochian script! If only he had time.
His pursuers were in pain, but temporary blindness was not going to stop them. Peleg took one last look around, and bolted for the long staircase on the far side of the room. He looked up, and in the last dying light, he noted the top of the staircase and ran, taking them two steps at a time.
Upon reaching the top, the pitch-black had returned, and he resumed his mission: Keep moving upward. Some kind of alarm-siren sequence began to sound, and he didn't need to be a linguist to know what it was announcing:
The escaped prisoner is in this corridor!
He sought frantically for the best way upward. He would not allow himself to be captured again!
The primary objective of these people seemed to be preventing any knowledge of their existence from entering the outside world. And, of course, his mission was to report it. He must also be on the lookout for the possibility that these underground dwellers might be a link to the Race of Semyaz, from before the Great Calamity! From what he had seen earlier, they might even provide the hereditary resources needed to reverse the degeneration that was threatening the rest of humanity.
But that was his other mission.
A blast of warm air hit him on the left side of his face, and he turned towards an air duct. Feeling his way to the other side of the corridor, he followed the breeze until he located the opening. He reached inside and found a grate which he grabbed onto. He tried to pull it out, but it wouldn't budge. The warm air roared around him as he kept struggling. Finally, in desperation, he gave it a huge push, and the grate snapped out of place and fell tumbling down the shaft. He couldn't hear when it hit bottom, but he immediately grabbed the upper lip and lifted his legs to push them through the opening. The inside of the shaft should be rough stone, and he had certainly done his share of mountain climbing. The speed of the air rushing past him convinced him that this shaft would go all the way to the surface. He was on his way.
Strong arms grabbed him from behind. He hadn't heard their approach because of the wind. As they hauled him out onto the floor, he instinctively crossed his arms, protecting the documents, maps, and instruments which were secured away in his chest pack. He wiggled his shoulders, trying to get back up, but he was pinned. Someone began tying his feet together. Then there was a hand in his face. A sharp Snap! and a foul odor from a broken capsule filled his nostrils. His one last fading thought:
Who Are You?

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