The Methuselah Effect
Book two in the MASAT Trilogy
by
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They were idiots, Hartwell conceded. That explained it. The display in front of them clearly showed the pulse sweeping from the satellites throughout the solar system. Still, they ran around the navigation center like chickens without heads, movement just for the sake of movement. He laughed silently into the delicious pain that dwelt inside his head.
“I can’t move it,” Hartwell heard Geoffrey say. “I can move the other ship in the display, but when I let go, it snaps right to where it was.”
“Murlan’s ship controls this one,” Hartwell heard Martha say.
“We’ve got to turn off the autopilot,” Geoffrey said.
“What?” Martha said.
“The cruise control,” Geoffrey said.
“Oh. I see . . .” Martha said.
Hartwell watched Geoffrey leave his place at the display and run to where Martha stood near the buttons and lights of the central console. “The problem is,” Geoffrey said, “that we don’t know where the switch is.”
“The problem is,” Hartwell said as an echo, “that you’re both idiots. First you want to open the cargo bay and now you want to move the ship. Can’t you see the pulse?” He pointed to the display of the solar system, to the circle of red that spread throughout the system, that faded into nothingness and then pulsed again.
“Look at his face, his eyes,” Martha said.
“He’s bleeding . . . his skin . . .” Geoffrey said.
Hartwell swept his hand across his face. What the hell are they blabbering about, he wondered and then looked at his hand. He saw that it was covered in blood and . . . tissue. I’m dissolving—like the witch in the “Wizard of Oz.” This is wonderful! I’m melting. He brought his hands back up to his head to cradle the pain.
“Quentin,” Martha said gently, “here, let me help you.”
“Leave me alone, you bitch. My Father will help me.” Are they crazy, too? Besides just being idiots? Hartwell wondered. Couldn’t they see the simple truth of it? Didn’t they know that this was a test? The last test before my exaltation? It’s so obvious. He glanced at the display and saw their ship arrive behind Jupiter and Murlan’s ship continue onward.
“There’s no time now,” Hartwell heard Geoffrey tell Martha. “We’ve got to kill the autopilot.”
Hartwell saw Martha hesitate for a moment and then he saw her nod her head in agreement. He’s right. It didn’t matter now, he knew. She couldn’t have helped him even if she had really wanted to. Actually, there really wasn’t any need to help him anyway. It was all a test and he knew that he was passing it with flying colors. Murlan would contact him soon. . . .
Suddenly, the room flashed with a bright green light that rapidly began to solidify into a red shell over the control area. Hartwell noticed a spot next to the solar system display, between where he and Geoffrey and Martha stood, blink to life—like a television screen that powered on—and a person began to form.
“Murlan,” Martha gasped.
Hartwell saw Murlan, now fully formed in the hologram, turn in Martha’s direction.
“Oh,” Murlan said, “you surprised me. I’m sorry to see you made it. I wasn’t sure when they reported to me that the shuttle had sped up.” Murlan paused and looked at Geoffrey and then said, “I see your friend is there, too.
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About the Book
Book Two in the Masat Trilogy: Oh, god, Paul Chandler thought as he cradled his head between his hands and stared at the display. It depicted a halogram view of the Earth below. So peaceful, so tiny, so easy to deal with from up here. He began to rub his temples as he remembered how uncomplicated life used to be, just a few short days ago. All that he had wanted to do then was to make that stupid car payment. Just a stupid car payment! Now, they expected him to Travel—to transport from one place to the other, without moving. Well, he reflected, his world had certainly changed in these last few days. In fact, it had expanded beyond just his world, he told himself. It now included the entire galaxy—or . . . not—if there was any way he could prevent it.
They were the descendants of the Emperor whose madness was allowed to foment. They were the result of appetites and passions that were allowed free rein, of psychosis that was encouraged to percolate, to bubble and develop. They were the hidden rulers over the generations. They called themselves the Shapers and they watched, studied and controlled those whose lifetimes had been genetically reduced by a factor of ten and now they were ready to start.
Thousands of years had passed since the Emperor founded this planet, but in all those years, the plan had remained the same. The experiment had been completed generations ago, but the thrill of the design, of the shape of the outcome, and ultimately of the bet, prolonged its implementation. Now, the satellites were in place, the nations were set to hair-trigger and the globe-ships would soon arrive . . . and, they would put it off no longer.
About the Author
D. Ross Yates was educated at
He lives at the east end of the Columbia Gorge, in a small town overlooking the
This is his first novel, “The Methuselah Effect,” and the second in his Masat Trilogy. He is currently working on the third novel of the series, entitled, “The First.” Don’t fret; it will all make sense when you buy the complete set.