Excerpt from The Culling Dark by Bettyann Craddock, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Felipé? That might work. He might be grateful and volunteer. He'd live in the barracks now and…His wife wouldn't be an obstacle…

The thought struck him as a thunderbolt, She was free to do it! He nearly danced he was so pleased with himself.

Julia! She'd make the perfect assistant, motherly, attentive to his needs. Women were much better assistants than men. He remembered the gleam of her hair, the pale translucence of her skin. His genitals twitched, and this surprised him as he barely ever felt interest in women. He thought about her more closely. Then nearly booted himself for not realizing.

Her hair was red! Red for Alpha! It was perfect. With Rogers gone, he would elevate her to his assistant, and when she needed comforting because Perez had grown cold, he would offer. The future panned out before him, full of contentment.

It felt as if puzzle pieces were falling into place, snapping down rightly. The lonely part of him sat up from long lying destitute upon a bed of hopelessness. A mate for him had never been found among all his lovers, male or female.

Perhaps…this woman would be what I need, he thought, Does she excite me? He thought about her, about her boyish body, her whiskey voice, the way she sauntered when she walked, a pirate in a feminine body.

Yes, he decided. She excites me. The opportunity never presented itself to get near until now. He had watched the way Felipé was with her. He could do that. Envy was what he felt when he'd seen it.

He thought, I'm in love! Have been in love, and didn't notice.

Perez didn't know what he had. Well, he would reveal his wealth to her. That would comfort her.

Dear God, will these blessings stop pouring from Your lap? I can take no more. He relaxed where he stood, humble peace deepening. The scene outside his quarters was idyllic. Everything so still, each heart hopeful of the day TERRA returned to take them all home. He could imagine dancing then, and glee, he over them all, a benevolent father, keeper of discipline and rewarder of good deeds, and afterwards, looked upon by history as the stable force in what could have been a disaster. Thinking about that, about how it could have been were he less the man he was, brought a tear to his eye.




On and on through the dark of a spangled Krusean night nine Gamma refugees stumbled in a thinned out line behind Felipé.

Once when they stopped to eat and rest Julia asked, "where are you taking us, Felipé?"

He smiled and kissed her forehead, white teeth flashing brilliant by star light, "To Oz," he said.

Directly north he led them, and it occurred to the others that they were headed for the very pinnacle of the planet. Felipé didn't tell them where they were going. He had only said, "TERRA is not coming. You know this. Will you live free?" they had followed him immediately.

Only Mr. Bellamy knew a little. Felipé had told him that he knew a place where they could live well, and be free, with never a fear and every comfort supplied, a place he had found during his three days absence. Where it was, or what it was, Felipé was mum about.

Felipé was right about TERRA. Mr. Bellamy had let that blighted hope ruin his will. Anything would be better than living under the command of a madman. Deep down he knew the truth. Those aliens blew Omni out of the sky, they obliterated Surface, and the way they moved in for the kill, it was obvious on reflection that they knew about their transmission habits.

He shivered to think of it, but with streams of data flowing out of Omni back to Sol it would not be difficult for a sophisticated technology to trace the destination. They would intercept the next wave in the void and obliterate them en route. It was likely that whatever they were, they would never allow another ship from Sol into this system. When he heard Felipé say the words, ‘TERRA is not coming,' he had known them to be the truest he had heard in two years. As he waited outside Stessel's office for Felipé's interview to end, he had face the dilemma squarely.

Copyright Bettyann Craddock 2000. All rights reserved.