Walter Robinson has a new queer sci-fi book out (gay, lesbian), SVF book one: The Northern Route.
In the distant star cluster Messier 4, the vast and stagnant civilization of the Apeilous sits on the verge of its next great expansion. Several massive corporations have merged to start the Endeavor, the most far-reaching economic and humanitarian effort in history.
Vesta Amore leads a small team of private security specializing in the protection of whistleblowers and corporate defectors. She has no interest in the Endeavor until she is swept off her feet by the suave leader of the Fortuna Corp, an equal partner in the Endeavor. Balancing her altruism with the realities of power, Vesta joins the Fortuna as they work to establish a supply route along the contested northern border.
Cal Sunn is a career detective looking forward to retirement. When the Maressellya Corp backs out of joining the Endeavor, they hear rumors of a defector in their ranks and put Cal on the case. What starts as a simple assignment becomes a fight for survival as he works to untangle a shadowy conspiracy that threatens the Apeilous. With the Fortuna’s backing, he and his crew rush to uncover the plot.
Warnings: Combat violence, “off-screen” sexual assault, large scale loss of life
About the Series:
In the distant star cluster M4, the vast civilization of the Apeilous barrels through a geopolitically tumultuous era. The independent northern state of Tressel is upset by territory grabs orchestrated by the largest corporations of the Apeilous through a humanitarian operation known as the Endeavor.
Vesta Fortuna, once a lowly private security contractor, rose to power to lead the largest and most controversial state of the Apeilous: The State of Vesta Fortuna. The SVF series explores the rise and fall of Vesta as a state-maker, a wife, a mother, and ultimately an authoritarian leader. Shorter companion novels detail the origins of the people who rise to support or oppose Vesta:
Aelia, a refugee turned warrior turned politician who will stop at nothing to bring down SVF.
Kiton, a bright young detective keen to support SVF by rooting out corruption in its ranks.
Valentia, Vesta’s daughter and heir to the Fortuna family.
Augustus, Vesta’s son and the unlikely heart and soul of SVF.
Get It At Amazon
Excerpt
Main character Vesta and her best friend Jak spend Act 3 forging ties between the Fortuna Corporation and the leadership of the independent planet Atayuma. Keen to make connections outside of the autocratic government, Vesta and Jak engage in a bit of old-fashioned diplomacy with group of mid-level army and navy personnel at the most popular bar in town. By this point in the story, Vesta and Jak have already made friends of several revolution-sympathizers in the armed forces.
Fun fact, the song in this excerpt was adapted with permission from the artist, Jason Webley!
Excerpt from Chapter 29, God Save the King:
Rau’s Taphouse
Capital City, Atayuma (ISY-AT)
Three musicians sat in the corner of the room belting out drinking songs on a tuba, a drum set, and an accordion. The accordionist sang loudly, yet his voice barely rose over the short beats of the instruments and the din of the bar.
Vesta and Jak sat at a table for six, joined by three captains from the Royal Navy. The sixth member of their gathering was Captain Ernesto of the army division Aline had selected for the coming monsoon. While Vesta had spent the fore of the evening chatting and getting to know them, her efforts were stymied by a raucous sing-along song about storms and angels. Then the music struck a somber tone.
The singer had his bandmates restart the intro, seemingly to get the crowd’s full attention. He sang the first verse softly.
“To the old, cracked screen,
Of my mother’s voice,
I still cry when I hear her sing.
The clock struck twelve,
The voice I love so well,
Was eaten up by the machine,
It was eaten up by the machine!”
Vesta wondered what exactly he meant by the machine. Maybe he’s talking about the mines. Every voice in the bar joined in the second verse.
“When the glass is full,
Drink up! Drink up!
This maybe the last time
We see this cup.
If angels wanted us sober,
They’d knock the glass over,
So while it is full, we drink up!”
Just as Vesta started to tap her toes to the beat, the drum and tuba quieted, and the individual taps on the accordion’s keyboard became clear. The singer glanced at her with a kind smile and sang softly, twisting the next verse into something unknown to the crowd.
“A toast to our guests,
A girl from the stars,
I hear the king courts her,
But all of this cheer,
And maybe the beer,
Has brought her back here,
So let’s help her drink the place dry,
Yes, let’s drink the damn place dry!”
The crowd cheered, and many raised their glasses toward Vesta before downing them. Jak slapped her on the shoulder with a little too much force, and the singer repeated the verse. A few people joined in. Then the rest shouted along for the last three lines. The standard verses followed, and the discordant singing continued. Vesta could only sit and sway to the beat. Jak had other ideas, rising to his feet to join a line of people dancing forward and backward with their arms on the shoulders of those next to them. Ernesto joined too, shouting with the dance line that now snaked clear across the length of the bar.
The music crescendoed upward, and the singing grew louder for the last verse.
“…knock the glass over.”
“So while it is full drink up!” the crowd screamed. People clapped, some tossed coins and banknotes at the band members, and others spilled their drinks as they tried to toast with their neighbors at the bar. The joyous frenetic atmosphere remained past the end of the music, but there was a clear shift in tone and a color shift for Vesta’s deeper vision. A calm contentment filled the minds of the patrons closing out their tabs and shuffling out the front door. Many said goodbye to their friends for the night, clasping each other’s hands in front of their chests with a tense shake. Eager to return to the palace, Vesta cut off Jak’s animated conversation with one of the navy captains, handed the bartender enough money to cover the table, and started toward the door.
A crowd of eager-eyed Atayumans stood outside Rau’s. They all bubbled with joy as Vesta stepped onto the street. She took Jak’s hand, smiled, and moved through them, trying not to flinch as every person attempted to touch her shoulders. Countless glowing Atayuman eyes met hers before they reached the edge of the gathering.
A raindrop landed on her hand. She reached up and felt that the top of her headscarf was damp. She pulled her hood up and activated her wrist computer, nearly blinding herself with its white light. Navigating to the archaic weather app that the Atayumans operated, she looked at the radar map of the incoming weather formation. It was predicted to be light and move past the city shortly after sunrise.
“God damn, I love diplomacy,” Jak said, words soft despite their volume. “If only the [Vesta’s ethnicity] weren’t so uptight, we could’ve been doing this on [Vesta’s home planet]!”
“Jak, please,” she said sharply. With a bit of tugging and pushing, she guided him up the sweeping main road toward the palace gates. Some distance from the royal guards, Vesta tensed her jaw and held her breath to redden her face.
“Are you doing that thing?” Jak asked, taking a series of tiny steps to steady himself.
“Yes,” she huffed, shooting him a sideways look.
“Why don’t you just think about those photos you had me take—”
“Jak!” she said loudly, playfully pushing him, then grabbing his shirt to keep him from falling over.
“You know, the ones for Piata—”
“Yes, I know!” she said, feeling her cheeks burn. Embarrassed, she channeled her shy charisma and played a nervous flirty drunk. The four guards at the gate seemed none-the-wiser and cleared the way for them.
Author Bio
Walter Robinson is a speculative fiction author based in Western PA.
A classically trained engineer with experience in product development and advanced materials manufacturing, he has a passion for telling the human stories that are fundamental to the built world. When he isn’t writing or drawing, Walter spends his time designing and fabricating.
Author Website: https://svf-state.com
Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/walter.robinson.12
Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/thestateofvestafortuna
Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/163169298-walter-robinson
Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Walter-Robinson/author/B0C9R78T9C
Exclusive Excerpt – The Pool Party Trope
Context:
Our characters currently live at the Fortuna Enclave, a classically styled mansion located on the beach of a lake on the contested planet Corben Six. The Enclave is a sort of temporary corporate embassy, used by the Fortuna Corporation and its leader, Piata, to forge business dealings in the region. After a month of entertaining foreign dignitaries to further Piata’s goals, main character Vesta is burnt out. Her best friend Jak has taken it upon himself to organize a beach party.
Excerpt from Chapter 20 “The Sightless”:
The Corbenite sun burned in the sky above the city, just an hour and a half from the horizon. Long shadows made dark the sandstone wall and the side of the gazebo that Vesta approached. She expected only a small gathering, but the pavilion was full of lounging guards, attendants, and activity, the loudest of which was the head chef and Jak standing over the open grill.
“…you will want a pinch of the—”
Jak held up his hand to call for silence. “I’ve got this.”
“But sir, this will bring out the zest of the—”
“Is it so hard to let a man grill in peace?” Jak asked.
“With you, sir, excruciating.”
…
One by one, the pleasant human sounds died until only the crash of the cycling waves remained. Vesta opened her eyes and saw that the guards in the water were slowly returning to shore. She turned around to find that those on the lawn had stopped moving. Some stood at attention, and others clasped their hands.
Piata stepped from the shade of the house into the sunlight, looking like an explosion of embers as her curly golden hair danced freely in the wind. She strode forward, dark legs breaking through the high slits of a billowing white dress that seemed to float in the air behind her despite the irregular strength of the lake air. Piata’s cloudy eyes snapped straight to Vesta and looked nowhere else as she walked down the lawn like the rest of the world did not exist.
…
“Speaking of dinner,” Jak said loudly, “first ones are for the ladies of the house.” He walked up to the couch with two plates in hand: a pair of kebabs and a few pieces of flatbread on each. The smell of the dark grilled fish and vegetables was better than that of anything Jak had ever cooked. Vesta took in the aromas before the wind scattered them, then she accepted the plate from Jak. Piata pulled herself upright and turned to sit straight. She received her plate and set it on her thighs, holding each side as if she did not know what to do.
The Fortuna chef managed to shoulder his way around Jak. “I am so sorry, ma’am, this is a Corbenite variety of freshwater—”
Piata held up her hand and dismissed the chef with a nod. “I will be fine, thank you.”
…
Sitting shoulder-to-shoulder at the end of the dock, Vesta and Piata talked first about the lake. Piata kept her eyes closed; the light glinting off the water was too bright for her damaged irises, so Vesta described all the details for her. Then she quickly changed the topic. Just as she had practiced in her mind, Vesta made a case for her contingency planning, as she called it. Piata just sat and listened, gently breathing out every time the warm water enveloped her feet and ankles.
Piata said, “I am glad you and Cal get along now.”
“Umm, not quite. But I know enough about him to respect his findings. I think that maybe, just maybe, he is starting to believe in the cause.”
“That cause?”
“The Endeavor. And he’s frank about the instability that this whole deal with Paris poses,” Vesta said.
“He is ever so helpful. I take your point, dear. We will plan for the worst.” Piata shifted and leaned back. She cracked her eyes and looked at Vesta with a sly smile. The front-most strip of her dress blew up to reveal a narrow white swimsuit. In a sultry tone of voice, she asked, “Do you remember back on the Miren Star, when you found me in the pool?”
“I do.”
“I enjoyed watching you climb out in those tight little shorts.”
Vesta felt her cheeks warm. She turned to look back down the dock to ensure none of the guards or attendants were close enough to hear them. Everyone was still either on the porch or in the pavilion. “Well,” Vesta said slowly, leaning close to speak quietly into Piata’s ear, “why don’t we swim back? You can watch me walk up the beach in something much smaller.”
Piata shook her head. “I did not realize Jak invited all the house staff. This”—she tugged on the white fabric of her swimsuit, nearly flashing Vesta— “is see-through when wet.”
Vesta bit her lip and her cheeks grew hot even as she turned her head away from the setting sun. She lifted herself to her feet. With a deep breath, she pulled off her dress, handed it to Piata, and dove into the lake, piercing the face of an approaching swell with her hands pointed over her head. The force of the water against the lake bottom brought her up to the surface fast, and she emerged with enough speed that she fell over. Embracing the motion, she swam to the side to clear the dock, then started toward shore with lazy sidestrokes that took advantage of every wave. Piata walked back on the dock, keeping pace and beaming down at Vesta. Just as the waves started to break, Vesta found the sandy ground and stood up, bobbing closer to shore before getting a solid footing.
Water poured out of her tangled hair and ran down her arms and hips as she walked through the shallower and shallower water. A single sweep of her hand cleared the pale hairs from her face, and she scanned the grounds ahead of her.
“Hot angels! Whew!” Jak whistled.
Vesta felt a thousand stares and tried to wear a casual smile, but she knew her face was cherry red. She narrowed her eyes in Jak’s direction.
“Looking good, Vesta,” Phoebe called, raising her glass.
Someone swore quietly, and everyone turned back to their conversations, or at least they were polite enough to try to. Piata had no trouble staring daggers into the gathering under the pavilion. Vesta hooked her arm and walked her up the lawn and into the open ground level of the private wing.
“Did you like the show?” Vesta asked, mounting the stairs and feeling the swimsuit ride up a little. She ignored it as she twisted to look down at Piata, who grinned up at her.
“Even half-blind, I still enjoy your beauty.”
“And when you go fully blind?”
“Then I will just have to enjoy you by feel,” she whispered, planting her hands on Vesta’s butt and pushing her up the stairs.
[End Chapter]
