The Spirit of Adventure

On my first post, I attempted to explain why I created the Worlds Apart series. I tried to explain where some of the inspiration came from, but in this entry, I'd like to talk about what drives the author of any fictional work to write.

If you really think about it, we really shouldn't be inspired by any story this is fiction. After all, fiction is, by definition, something that is untrue. And if we are attempting to seek any higher truth in our life, fiction would seem a backward step in that direction.

However, I think fiction gives us that which we are looking for: heroes. Heroes are people who have been gifted, but do not use their gifts for selfish gain. In fact, they use their gifts to put themselves deliberately in harm's way so that others might live. Examples include Superman, Batman, Spider-man, Frodo Baggins, and even Neo from The Matrix. All of these characters live a life of adventure by sacrificing a part of themselves for others. They have inspired many, and none of them are real.

When I was in high school, I created my own little super hero group. They were based on people that I know, blended with ideas from (and some cases, ripped-off) from the comic books that I used to read. Looking back, I don't think I created these characters and this superhero world as a distraction. On the contrary, I had plenty of problems that I was dealing with at the time, and these stories inspired me to face my life.

I can't really explain why. I believe it has something to do with my own problems seeming so large, and perhaps it was more comfortable to play in a world where the problems were even bigger. Maybe it was the idea of standing up to evil and injustice and winning, instead of comprimising and retreat.

Of course, real life seems mundane and unfantastic compared to the stories of fantasy and science fiction. However, that is only what it appears. The Bible is full of stories that seem unbelievable, but they truly happened. These stories are so good, that they break the conventions of stories. Jesus is the hero, but you don't see Him come in a room and beat up the bad guys. In fact, he is willing to resist the urge to be powerful, and lets the bad guys beat him up.

This is the hero that I strive to be. Life is full of punches that we have to learn to roll with, and very little (yet still a lot) of reward exists in this life. So though I may never beat an army, I live a Christian life, which is fraught with fiery darts and temptations that I face daily. Every once in a while, I look back and see that I live a life of adventure.

This is why I wrote this, because the spirit of adventure is in us all. Some of us kill it as we grow up, believing that our lives are meant to be mundane. They are meant to be spectacular, and death will be the ulimate climax for this life. Then the adventure begins anew.

World's Apart, Book One, Prologue

This is the Prologue of the first book of World's Apart, what may become the best Christian Science Fiction series, since...can anyone think of a Christian Science Fiction series to compare to this? If so, feel free to comment on it.

Enjoy all of this spectacular Christian Science Fiction series.

Worlds Apart: Book One
by
Mark Rollins
Prologue

A blaring siren woke up Lieutenant Engels with a shock. As he quickly rose, he hit his head on the ceiling. Embarrassed, he looked at the rest of the barracks from his view on the top bunk. He expected to see several soldiers pointing and laughing, but no one was paying attention to him. The entire barracks was in an uproar as the siren’s rotating red lights bathed the room in blood red. Drill sergeants walked to and fro about the room, goading the soldiers to move faster, faster, FASTER! Grunts in their sleeping attire rushed to their lockers, and donned their uniforms as fast as one could within centimeters of each other.

This doesn’t look like a drill.

Engels groggily swung his legs over to the side and jumped to the floor, not caring if his blanket followed him. He then looked out of the window, and saw something that was not in his usual view of space. A dark cloud blocked out the light from Earth’s moon. Engels pressed his face to the glass, and saw that the cloud was made of spaceships, more ships than he had ever seen.
This is definitely not a drill.

“Didn’t you hear me soldier? Get! Into!! Uniform!!!”

The drill sergeant pushed Engels off the window and toward the other soldiers. After a few stumbles, Engels bulldozed through the crowd and found his locker. He didn’t bother saying “excuse me” to anyone he jostled, and no one expected it.

The smell of sweat was overpowering.

Engels had been trained to dress for battle in less than a minute with a simple six-step procedure: First, put on the tight, insulated jacket and pants. Second, snap on the individual plastic sections on the arms, chest, back, torso, and legs. Third, put on the tight boots and gloves, and lock them into place. Fourth, twist and lock the helmet into place.

“Testing for a vacuum seal,” said the automated voice from inside the helmet. Engels saw the words projected on the glass of his helmet:

VACUUM SEAL AT 100%
NO LEAKS DETECTED
INTERNAL OXYGEN LEVELS ARE AT NORMAL
NOW USING EXTERNAL OXYGEN SOURCE
PLEASE REPORT TO THE HANGAR FOR ORDERS.

By the time he had finished the fourth step, most of the personnel had already left. He quickly completed the fifth step as he latched on his belt and made certain the guns were in their proper places.

Cable-gun on the left. Six-shot on the right. Check.

“Why are you still here, soldier?”

Even with the drill sergeant was rushing him, Engels made certain to complete the sixth, final, and most important step. It echoed in his mind as he acted it out.

Leave your PWC behind. If something should happen to you, the information on there is what others will remember you by. So place it in your locker before you go into combat.

Engels double-checked to make certain his PWC was in his locker. He then slammed the door, and ran out of the barracks.

Engels and the other soldiers ran down the giant tube of a hall like fast-moving ants. They soon reached the anti-gravity area, and had to push themselves along the wall for one hundred meters until they reached the hangar.

The hangar was a giant arena a half-kilometer in diameter with a fifty-meter-high ceiling. As soon as Engels floated into the hangar, the transparent viewscreen on his helmet had his station orders.

PLEASE REPORT TO FIGHTER 2678

Engels saw lines of fighter ships that worked their way out from the center of the room to the airlock doors, like spokes on a wheel. Each fighter had a number on its top, were ordered numerically so that Engels had no trouble finding his. Engels pushed off toward fighter 2678, and then turned on his magnetic boots. After he landed, he stood in attention like the other soldiers.

Engels barely had time to catch his breath before the holographic briefing began. He looked up and saw four projections of the same giant head floating above the soldiers and fighters. Engels chose to concentrate on the one that was looking down at him.

“Good evening, soldiers. I am Admiral Bennet. By now, I’m sure all of you know that your basecruiser is organizing a Quick-Launch against an incoming invasion fleet. In mere minutes, we will send you out into the largest space-battle the galaxy has ever known.”

Engels worst suspicions were horrifically confirmed. They really are going to send me into all of that. It’s going to happen, and I am probably going to be killed! Engels closed his eyes and hoped that there would be something to call off this battle. He began to feel quite nauseous.

The Admiral continued: “Some of you are afraid. Some of you don’t feel that you’re ready. I can understand why. Yet all of you knew from the moment you enlisted that this day might come. And I assume that you didn’t join the Terran Guard to earn lots of quick Merit Points. You joined to defend against Earth’s enemies!”

The drill sergeants started a cheer that resounded through the hangar. Much of the others joined in.

“But, if any of you wishes to step out, now is the time. Nothing will be held against the person who does. Only know that we cannot get you off this orbital cruiser in time. We have many areas that need service here, and you will be asked to serve there. I will give you a minute to decide.”

The Admiral deliberately paused.

Engels saw the pilot of the ship in front of him step forward, remove his helmet, and report to a nearby officer. Engels didn’t need to hear the conversation. The officer dismissed the fighter pilot without any derision, and then asked Engels to move up to the next ship. As he walked forward, and turned and saw all the other pilots behind him moving up one ship as well. New pilots were called in to fill the gaps at the end of the line. Engels couldn’t help but wonder where the new pilots came from.

Okay, now I’m third in line. I definitely don’t want to be first. They’ll be shot down the moment they leave the basecruiser.

Engels looked to the one leading the line. An officer came up to this man, asked him a question, and the soldier nodded.

Looks like he’s not going to leave his post. I wonder if I should. I feel like I’m going to throw up, and my hands won’t stop shaking. I could leave this battle now. No one would scorn me. Why don’t I?

Engels saw the officer walk up to the second man in line. This time, he could hear the conversation.

“Are you going to be OK, soldier?”

“Yes, sir.”

Looks like I’ll still be the third man in line. How in the world did I get here, God?

Wait. Admiral Bennet already said how. But it wasn’t because I wanted to defend Earth from its enemies, I wanted to earn quick Merit Points. I wanted to earn enough Merits to purchase a starship, and leave the Earth behind. God, that seems so stupid now. Forgive me for ever wanting this for myself. I want to do things for God now.

The officer walked in front of Engels.

“Are you going to be OK, soldier?”

“Absolutely, sir.”

The officer patted him on the shoulder. “Good man.”

The Admiral resumed his speech. “Before I send you out, I want you to know why. Why we may have to inform your friends that you did not make it back, and why you are willing to give your lives for this cause.

The image of the Admiral disappeared. In its place were archaic images of an older time, all in black and white.

“It is because a long time ago, the people that once ruled the Earth did not believe in God. This was the Dark Era, and those in power were very corrupt, denying the people the very right to pray. And so the people paid the price, and there was war, crime, and abundant hate. Humanity almost didn’t survive these terrible times. Yet out of these ashes rose the Theocracy, a small minority that soon outshone the majority. They helped lead this blue Earth of ours into a government under God. Then peace settled on the land.”

More images were shown of the Theocrats in power. These ones were in color.

All the soldiers applauded.

“Unfortunately, not all wanted God, so the Theocrats gave them the right to space-travel.”

The next image was of multiple arrows of blue extending from the Earth to the stars.

“These people went to other worlds, and established Colonies far from Earth. They have now returned to Earth as our enemy.”

The stars now shot out red arrows, all aimed at Earth.

“That is why you are here today. This giant attack force came from all places of Colonial Space, and has surrounded Earth and its defensive blockade of ten basecruisers. They call themselves the Ulysseans, and it looks like they have representatives all through the Colonies.”

Engels saw the Ulyssean logo. It was a giant letter U with a clenched fist rising up from within.
“Their demands are clear: the removal of the Theocracy from Earth. Soldiers, these people want to subvert the government of God, plunging Earth back into the Dark Era. Do you want that?”

Everyone cried out and echoing “NO.”

The image of the Admiral appeared again. He was pointing at the soldiers. “Then it is your duty to stop them. The Theocrats have already informed our enemy that they intend to give in to their demands, but this is a trick. For once the Theocrat starcruisers breach Earth’s atmosphere, we will launch our fighters! Then we will strike the enemy when it thinks itself the most victorious. Are you with me, soldiers?”

“Yes, sir!” Engels joined in as the proclamations boomed across the hangar.

“Let us all say a quick prayer before we board our ships.”

In unison, everyone bowed their head.

“God, we pray for strength as we fight against our enemy. We ask for your blessing as we defend all that others fought and died for. Guide us into victory as we go out now.”
All the soldiers resounded with a loud “AMEN!”

As the Admiral’s images faded away, and all the soldiers boarded their fighters. Engels de-magnetized his boots and leaped into his fighter. As he closed his cockpit, he felt a sick feeling that he had closed his own coffin. He tried not to think morbid thoughts as he started the pre-launch procedures. His viewscreen started the first steps.

EXTERNAL OXYGEN DIMINISHED
COMMENCING INTERNAL OXYGEN
FIGHTER BATTLEVIEW MODE SELECTED

Once Engels had completed the brief pre-launch procedures, there was nothing to do but wait and watch. A Terran Guard fighter used the finest holographic technology to make everything but the controls appear invisible. This Battleview mode was designed to give a pilot a perfect three-dimensional view of the space around him, and it eliminated the need for fragile glass on the cockpit.

All that was visible in front of Engels were the thrusters of the next ship. As he looked over to the side, he saw the hangar was being cleared of personnel. He knew it wouldn’t be long before the airlocks opened, and the ships would have to bolt out of the gate like a champion race horses.
The stress was intense. His hands were slippery with sweat beneath the gloves. He had to concentrate to keep them still. He wondered if he was going to need to use the sickness bag.

“This is it.” It seemed cliché, but Engels couldn’t think of a better thing to say.

Alarms began to bellow, and yellow sirens flashed above the airlock doors. The hangar doors opened slowly, and air was visibly being sucked from the room. Before the head of the line was the inky blankness of space.

“Well,” said Engels, “If I die today, I will be remembered a hero.”

The thrusters of the ship in front of him ignited like twin lamps. Engels fired his boosters, and his ship lurched forward unexpectedly like a roller coaster. The ride had only just begun when Engels passed out the threshold into the hostile territory of space.

Engels turned and saw that other basecruisers were noiselessly spilling out their share of fighters. His sensors showed that many Theocrat starcruisers were leaving Earth’s atmosphere.

Engels saw that he was headed into the black fog of the Ulyssean armada. For one long second, the Terran Guard and Ulyssean ships just stared at each other. The silence was as cold and deadly as the space the ships floated in. The serenity of the moment was inevitably broken once the Terran Guard fighters fired their lasers upon the Ulysseans. He was pleased that the fog of enemy fighters was now speckled with multiple explosions. Engels wanted to fire, but he had too many Terran Guard ships in front of him to risk a clear shot.

The Ulyssean ships fired their missiles, and their smoke trails wove together like a spider’s web. The front line of the Terran Guard instantly became a wall of burning ships as the reality of war frightfully bloomed before Engels’ eyes.

The ship that was the first in Engels’ line blew up. A quick fiery blast consumed the pilot, leaving a black husk of a ship behind.

Seconds later, the second ship in the line blew up. Engels saw pieces of it scatter everywhere. He was afraid that the shrapnel would damage his ship, but only one piece hit him. It looked like a glove.

Or a hand.

Engels panicked, and brought the ship upward, hopefully away from the Ulyssean melee. Yet there was no safe place. All around him were lasers, missiles, armor-piercing shells, and who only knew what else. His ship shook with the impacts. He was tempted to fly off somewhere, to simply leave the Earth and the conflagration behind.

“No. I’m going to do my duty, and advance the enemy. Here goes…something.”

As Engels took his ship into the Ulyssean hornets’ nest, he got a good view of one of the enemy. Their ships were shaped like bullets, with a pair of wings on the sides and a fin on the back. Each had two missiles, and a large gun in front. Suddenly he remembered that he had guns, and started firing his lasers. Engels was sure he did not even scratch any enemy ships as they all passed him.

After the ships were gone, Engels finally found the time to take a breath. Unfortunately, he had no time to rest. Engels heard a buzz and looked down on his screen. Engels saw the three words of doom: MISSILE LOCK DETECTED.

“Okay. Let’s just deal with this.”

The computer displayed a response: RECOMMEND HEAD-OFF MANEUVER.

“Sounds good to me.”

Engels was good at the head-off maneuver in the simulator, but there was now more at stake than a good grade. He sent his fighter in a half-loop, then sighted the tiny dot of the missile heading right toward him. He fired, but his shots were missing by several meters. He simply could not manually target it with his shaking hands.

“Come on. Come on! Get there, get there!”

There was no time to auto-aim, and the missile was so close that Engels could almost see the printing on the nosecone.

“Get out!!”

Engels reached for the eject lever and gave it a hard tug. As the cockpit hatch blew upward into nothingness, Engels and his seat followed. The missile passed a few meters under Engels’ boots. It buried itself in the empty cockpit and detonated. The explosion sent shrapnel in a huge blast radius, and for an instant, Engels saw himself engulfed by fire. He closed his eyes at that point, and hoped he would be able to open them again.

He eventually did, and he saw that his ejector seat had cleared him of the explosion. His problems had only just begun, for he was stranded in the merciless vacuum of space. Starships and melee passed by at deadly speeds. Engels felt like a scuba diver trapped at the bottom of the sea, in the midst of angry sharks.

“An emergency beacon has been activated. Please hold position until a vessel can retrieve you.” Engels’ space armor had a voice that was far too polite, given the surroundings.

An armor piercing shell grazed the back of Engels seat. It was a near-miss that sent him tumbling in anti-gravity, with no way to stop from spinning.

He saw several Ulyssean ships pass over him, and was grateful that they didn’t take an easy shot. He then noticed that they were heading toward Basecruiser Nine, the place that he had called “home” for the past two years. The swarm of enemy ships detonated many missiles on the bascruiser’s hull. After a large explosion, the monolithic ship began to tumble on an abnormal axis. Clearly the damage was more than cosmetic.

“No!” he called in vain.

The request was useless. The basecruiser became as bright as the sun as it exploded again. Engels held eyes shut until he felt the bright light die. All that was left were smoldering fragments that flew his way like a meteor shower. Since he could not dodge them, he stayed still and hoped that they would harmlessly pass by. Unfortunately, he could not dodge one.

“Whoa!” Engels held out his pilot’s seat like a shield and felt the impact. Fortunately, the seat’s cushions protected Engels from the initial impact. The fragment took Engels for a ride for several kilometers, flinging him far from the battle.

He recognized the fragment as a piece of some room, possibly a galley or a barrack. He saw forms that might have been bodies. The fragment had been extremely hot, but it had been cooled in seconds by the coldness of space itself. Engels’ seat was fused to the wreckage.

Several Ulyssean ships passed over Engels. Suddenly, they turned and faced Engels.

“That does it! I don’t care if I die, but you are going to pay for this! All of you Ulysseans!”

Engels grabbed a piece of the basecruiser wreckage and hurled it at the Ulyssean ships. Even though his heart was in the right place, the action was useless. His aim was way off, and there was no way he could have thrown that far.

The Ulyssean ships opened fire on him. Engels saved himself by grabbing sections of the wreckage and pushing himself to the other side of it. After a few seconds of ducking down, Engels then saw that he wasn’t their target. The Ulysseans’ blasts were hitting four Theocrat Starcruisers that were lined up side by side. Engels hoped that the hard hulls of the starcruisers would last until reinforcements could arrive. Fortunately, several Terran Guard fighters flew in to protect them.

Someone was shooting at Engels. At first he thought it was a Ulyssean ship, but then saw the Terran Guard fighter firing upon a Ulyssean.

Engels had an idea for getting off the wreckage. He took out his magnetic cable-gun from his holster and waited for the Terran Guard Fighter to come in closer. He fired, and the recoil knocked him over. Yet the extended cable hit its target and secured magnetically to the wing. With a quick jerk that almost tore off Engels’ forearm, the fast-moving fighter dragged Engels behind like a water skier. Possibly oblivious of his hitchhiking passenger, the Earth fighter eventually destroyed its target. Normally, Engels would have applauded, but the fighter then turned upward, and the momentum almost caused him to hit the fiery wreckage of the blasted Ulyssean craft.

Engels then hit the button that quickly reeled in the cable. He then turned on his magnetic boots, and the soles of his feet were locked onto the fighter’s hull. For a few seconds, Engels just stood there, amazed that his plan had actually worked. He finally found the courage to take a step, and discovered that he could now walk on the top, side, or bottom of the fighter. Gravity was not an issue.

“Okay,” he said to his suit, “I need to patch into the communication frequency used by fighter . . . Fifty-six seventy-five! Pilot, are you there, over?”

“Yeah, talk to me, quickly!” The voice sounded like a very rugged individual. Engels tried to form in his mind a picture of what the pilot might look like.

“This is the pilot of fighter . . . doesn’t matter. My fighter blew up a few seconds ago. Right now, I’m walking on top of your fighter, using my magnetic boots.”

“That would explain a few sounds I’ve been hearing.”

“Can you drop me off at a Basecruiser? I need another ship.”

“Listen, buddy, I’ve got to defend these Theocrat starcruisers. So just hold on and try not to get shot.”

The com was cut off. Engels was about to reestablish connection, but realized that there was nothing the pilot could do for him.

Engels stooped down and tried to stay as low as he could. He wondered how the war was going.

It was impossible to tell who was winning the battle. He cringed every time he saw a Terran Guard fighter explode. He had lost count of how many he had seen, but he was certain it was double the number of destroyed Ulyssean vessels.

Suddenly, a Ulyssean ship came up behind Engels, and fired upon him.

“Pilot! There’s one on your tail.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll try to shake him.”

The pilot’s fighter veered, and Engels nearly lost his footing. He managed to regain his bearings before he stumbled into the thrusters.

“Hey, magnet-feet. Are you still there?”

“Barely.”

“This guy’s got me in missile lock. Two of them, in fact. This guy must really want me dead. I’m going to do the head-off maneuver. If I have to eject, you should probably jump off.”

Engels walked over to the hatch, and prepared to be launched if need be. The pilot executed the loop, and Engels saw the two missiles heading right at him. Coglin was firing several rounds, but he wasn’t hitting either of the two missiles.

To his surprise, Coglin managed to hit the first missile. It detonated in a ball of flame, but the second missile was still coming. Coglin tried, but simply could not hit the other. Engels realized that he had seen this scene before, from the inside of his ship.

Engels pulled out his six-shooter.

“Not this time.”

Engels fired at the missile, and hit it after the third shot. Engels felt the blast, and was knocked flat. Only the magnetic pad on his left boot saved him from being dragged away.

“All right,” said the pilot, “Did we actually do that?”

“Yeah, I did.” Engels rose to his feet atop the pilot’s hull.

“Hey, we make a great team! Say what’s your name? Mine’s--”

“Watch out.”

A Ulyssean vessel swooped in, ready to blast the Terran Guard’s fighter with lasers. Before Engels could think, he fired his last three bullets at the Ulyssean fighter’s cockpit. He knew it was a useless action, but he had to do something.

To his surprise, something did happen. Engels saw the cockpit of the Ulyssean fighter shatter. He saw that the pilot was struggling, and it was clear why. The pilot did not have a spacesuit, and was dying in the frigid vacuum of space. Engels ducked as the fighter passed dangerously close over him. It eventually exploded after it crashed into some wreckage of another fighter.

“You still up there?”

“Yeah, but I shouldn’t be.”

“What happened?”

“I took out the Ulyssean fighter with a few bullets from my gun.”

“How?”

“The glass. They don’t have holographic displays like us. All they have for a cockpit view is one-way glass. It’s hard glass, but it’s not that hard. It’s their weak spot. You have to tell all the other pilots to switch to armor-piercing shells and aim for their cockpits. Look out!”

A Ulyssean fighter came straight at them. The pilot blasted it in the front with armor-piercing shells. The cockpit shattered, and the fighter veered off.

“You’re right! I’m going after more.”

“Terrific! I’ll spread the word to the other ships.”

“All right. But after you tell them, check the starboard hatch. I believe there is some extra ammo in there for you. I could use a little backup.”

Engels contacted a basecruiser Admiral, who got the word to the other Terran Guard fighters.

Engels then found the extra ammunition and began to shoot down Ulyssean fighters without missiles. After a few minutes of being the pilot’s backup, he found he could take out a Ulyssean with just one bullet.

At one point, Engels was about to fire at a close vessel, but nothing happened.

“Pilot! There’s one on our six, and I’m really out of ammo!”

“No problem. I’ve got lots of time to spare now.”

The Terran fighter looped around and fired on the Ulyssean fighter, which blew up on the first hit.

“By the way,” said Engels, “are we winning?”

“Looks like it. According to the navigation map, they’re amassing by the 65-87-30 grid. The squad’s been ordered to finish them off.”

“Looks like the enemy is making a hasty retreat.”

"That means that they're probably planning to tesseract.”

Engels long-range focus caught sight of one of the Ulyssean’s ships. It was about to use the device that had changed humanity forever. A small star shot from its cockpit, and it sped away into the distance until Engels could see it no more. It eventually became visible when it collapsed in a blinding ripple of light. The dead star became denser and denser until the space around it literally bent. It was like that section of galaxy was a piece of cloth, and then two ends of it were folded together. The Ulyssean ship crossed the kilometer-wide displaced area, and the remaining Ulyssean fighters followed.

“We’ve got to follow them through the gate,” said the pilot.

“Are those our orders?”

“No. But we can’t let them run away.”

“Are you crazy? We don’t have a tesseract device. Once that gate closes behind us, we’ll be trapped there.”

“So, do you want to get off?”

“Not on your life.”

Engels stood like a surfer on the Terran Guard fighter as the pilot sped toward the tesseract gate. It surprised him to see that several other Terran Guard ships were following them, and he wondered if those ships were under orders. By the time they passed through the tesseract gate, twelve fighters had joined them in their crusade.

As always, the tesseract effect was only temporary, and the space itself came back together again like a cresting wave. Engels looked back and saw a bright yellow dot of the Earth’s sun.

“Pilot,” Engels shouted, “I’m transmitting our coordinates back to Earth. I don’t know how long it will take for them to get--”

Engels was rendered speechless once he saw what he was heading for. The Ulyssean fighters were headed into a fleet of larger ships. They had designs that were completely foreign to Engels, and no two looked alike. They were as numerous as they were massive, and there was no way that a handful of Terran Guard fighters could take them on.

“Turn around.” Engels ordered.

“And go where? I don’t think that all those ships are armed, or they would have used them during the battle. Besides, I still have plenty of missiles left.”

The pilot fired all two of his missiles at the ships. The rest of the Terran Guard ships followed his example. Several missiles soared past Engels like a flock of birds. Each one struck its target, and enemy starships exploded. Some of the shrapnel flew and destroyed other ships. The rest of the Ulyssean invasion fleet did its best to scatter.

“We did it, kid,” said the pilot.

“Yeah.” For the first time since he had woken up, Engels smiled.

Then Engels saw one peculiar Ulyssean starship speed straight at him. The red, cross-shaped ship had guns all around it, and several of them fired at Engels. All the blasts were misses, except one bolt that scraped past Engels’ arm.

The damage was cosmetic only, but one small hole in spacesuit armor is lethal. His hand instinctively covered the hole that had been made, but it was too late. His displays showed that his oxygen levels were depleting fast, and he would be completely out of air in a few seconds.

“Pilot, I’m hit!”

There was nothing but the sound of static on the other end.

Suddenly, he realized that he had somehow detached from the ship he was standing on. He could see the ship several kilometers away from him. Other fighters passed him as well, but none stopped for him.

Engels began to feel cold, with a chill that burrowed deep and spread from within. It was like he was going to be stuck in ice forever, and would never be warm again.

“Kid? Are you there?”

The voice was the pilot’s, but it was riddled with static interference.

“No…I must have detached…been shot.” Engels found it hard to take a breath.

“Hang on, I’m coming for you.”

Engels could see that the pilot executed a loop and turned his ship around. He was moving far too slow.

“Hurry, please. My oxygen is going fast.”

“I’m not letting you die that easy. Just hang on and stay awake. I’ll be right there.”

“I’ll . . . try . . . to . . . ”

Engels began to black out, and his head leaned back involuntarily. The last thing he remembered was seeing the cross-shaped ship forming a tesseract gate to parts unknown.

Why I Created Worlds Apart

Approximately ten years ago, I conceived the idea of a Christian science fiction epic about intergalactic missionaries. The premise is somewhat laughable, but only because we, as audiences, tend to look at sci-fi as purely escapist, with aliens, spaceships, and all the usual Star Wars and Star Trek conventions.


I realized that I could create a very realistic premise that did not use aliens, time-travel, alternate realities or any of that sci-fi complications. As a result, people became the focus of the story, and people who shared the gospel as the main focus.


Worlds Apart takes place in the future, where humanity is spread out through the galaxy on numerous interstellar colonies. The Earth is united under the Theocrats, but their particular God-centered government is not what it seems. The stories center around a group of Christians who travel all throughout the universe, fulfilling the Great Commission and sharing the gospel to Earth and the Colonies.


In 2003, I published Worlds Apart under the Title Light At The Edge of The Universe: Planet of Secrets.

The publishing company, Acorn Press, only put out a few hundred copies, and I learned a hard lesson about going with a subsidy. Much of the book I had to edit myself with no help from this publisher, but I learned a lot about writing in the process. If you're still interested in buying a copy for yourself, click to go to Amazon. Who knows? It might be worth something someday as a First Edition or something.


However, this blog is meant to showcase Worlds Apart and the Worlds Apart series so that someday, a royalty publisher will pick it up. When that happens, this could easily become the next Left Behind series, inspiring many people around the world with its exciting adventures and inspiring message. It could easily change Christian Science Fiction as we know it, which doesn't really exist now.


The next few entries of this blog will focus on the first three chapters (including the thrilling prologue) of the first novel in World's Apart, followed by daily entries about the series in general. Many a subject will arise, and I will also have some pretty impressive visuals as well. So enjoy this new Christian Science Fiction series, and pray that it will reach many.