I’ve been working on a science fiction book set in Toronto somewhere in the future. I decided today to post up part of a draft of chapter one. You can find it below or over at wattpad: http://www.wattpad.com/13832914-sakara-part-of-chapter-one
Sakara – (part of Chapter One draft)
A tall bearded man stood across the street from the Parkdale home. He read the park sign down the road for the twelfth time in as many minutes, and completely unsurprised that it had not changed, he continued his silent wait.
He periodically paced back and forth stopping to examine the home now and again, then marching along the same worn path he had spent the last two hours making. He awaited the rising of the privacy shutters. He would not act without seeing the faces for himself, without having them tucked away for the night and sure that their day had come to an end. He had tried earlier to penetrate their security system with his own equipment, but would gave up. Their home’s computer would track down the signal faster than any other residential, or even commercial system. He realized soon enough that the house had been equipped with military hardware. It didn’t matter in the end anyway. The system would be gutted and removed before th night would finish. The serial number of the crystallines would be traced then. The equipment itself was nothing compared to the tenants inside that house.
A sound from the left brought his attention to a shadow standing ten metres away, leaning against a tree. The form was almost invisible, dressed in black from head to foot. Familiar, since he was wearing the same thing, a clothing which made one invisible to almost any kind of scanning equipment, and to the human eye would pass like a flicker in the darkness. The bearded man was rather fond of this invention, the “boom suit” as it was recently dubbed.
He knew that these suits were unlike the ones licensed to civil law enforcement. All boom suits had layers of superconductive fibres sown into them that made them impervious to most weapons, from a knife to nearly all projectile guns. The notable exception was a rail-gun, which only government issued suits could protect against. Civil enforcement suits could not withstand the force of a bullet travelling twenty kilometres per second. Military ones coult by backwashing the acceleration barrel of the gun with a oppositely charged plasma burst before the projectile would leave the staging area, and since it took one tenth of a second for the weapon to charge for each shot, it could be detected and shorted out in about three quarters of the cases where the backwash function is necessary. Not as thought this was usually the case. The military did its preparation work before an incursion very thoroughly, and incidents were rare.
The shadow by the tree came toward the bearded man. He knew that the person behind the darkness was staring right at him, through the shielding. The shadow drew nearer to him, ghostly steps moving gracefully across the grass, legs too thin to be real, the body serpentine, twisting as it swallowed whole any light that touched upon it. He admired the shadow’s slow flowing steps until it stumbled on a rock and exclaimed in a whisper, “Well shit.”
The bearded man just stared he knew well the limitations of a boom suit, his was on stand by. However, the shadow was so close now that the light of the moon had made the face of the shadow discernable. The shadow was a younger man with short brown hair cut in the classic military style that spoke more of functionality than fashion. His face was younger and his stature just as tough as the bearded man’s.
“So are we going to just stand here all night, or do we charge the place?” the younger man asked eagerly, “They probably went to sleep already.”
“We’ll give them another half hour, then steal inside. I don’t want to risk them warning their friends about this. And don’t waste your power pack sitting here brooding,” the bearded man replied. He did not have time for rookies. He had spent too long finding people to make a sweep in the first place and HQ sent in this boy to help him scout. He didn’t need help. They were keeping tabs on him and his operation.
The bearded man looked up at the sky and saw the clouds moving lazily above them. It looked serene, he mused. He was one of the few that were aware of the hundreds of rockets flying towards Mars in the stealth of the night. They had no idea the attack was coming, no warnings, no threats, and no way to detect them until it was too late.