We love aspace mystery — and Braking Day , from debut novelist Adam Oyebanji , sound like an exceptionally juicy one . It begins as a man influence on thegeneration shipwhere he ’s spent his total life see something unconvincing : a womanfloating in spacewithout a helmet . How … and who ? io9 has an exclusive first look at Braking Day ’s cover and an excerpt from its first chapter to share today .
First , here ’s the book description .
It ’s been over a century since three generation ship escape an Earth dominated by unreal intelligence in pursuit of a life on a remote planet orbiting Tau Ceti . Now , it ’s most Braking Day , when the ship will begin their long - awaited descent to their new home plate .
Excuse me, ma’am, you forgot your helmet!Image: DAW
stand on the humbled decks of the Archimedes , Ravi Macleod is an engineer - in - education , set up to be the first of his sept to become an officer in the stratified pecking order aboard the ship . While on a routine inspection , Ravi sees the unsufferable : a new woman float , helmetless , out in place . And he ’s the only one who can see her .
As his visions of the girlfriend grow more frequent , Ravi is faced with a choice : batten his kinsperson ’s situation among the elect members of Archimedes ’ crew or hazard it all by pursuing the mystery story of the floating girl . With the assistance of his cousin , Boz , and her illegally constructed AI , Ravi must investigate the germ of these strange imaginativeness and uncovers the truth of the Archimedes ’ departure from Earth before Braking Day arrives and changes everything about life as they live it .
Here ’s the cover , being revealed here for the first fourth dimension . The cover creative person is Kekai Kotaki , and the designer is Adam Auerbach .
Image: DAW
in the end , here ’s the excerpt from Braking Day ’s exciting first chapter !
Hands tuck into armpits , Ravi floated easily in the middle of the compartment and lease the drone ’s readouts wash over him . numbers racket and schematic drawing coated the inside of his eyelids . Everything was green . Everything match the remote diagnostics . The organization , if it were ever needed , would do its job . The drone , review complete , headed for home plate .
pat , tap , rap . pat , wiretap , tap . Tap , strike , CLANG !
There were no straps to save him this time . Ravi jumped out of his skin . His body spun through the air like a wayward top . The compartment rang like a bell .
Tap , tap , CLANG !
Ravi ’s breathing time was coming in unretentive , mirky gasps . string of beads of elbow grease prickled his forehead .
This was n’t squeak due to heat . Something was love against the hull . flop outside the compartment . Ravi hold his breathing place .
Not something , he make short . Some one . There was nothing random about the noise outside . This was n’t a collision with some broken - off piece of ice-skating rink or other inadvertent debris . There was cadence to it . Rhythm . The deliberate act of an intelligent mind . Someone was banging on the bulkhead . In deep space .
Aliens !
The give-and-take smashed its elbow room into his foreland , an unwished guest . The saliva disappeared from his mouth .
Then he laughed , sudden and empty . Aliens were for kidskin . story for the pitch black . Halloween . This whatever - it - was was a joke . A dazed trick to scare him witless . Ansimov , probably , or maybe even Boz . He had to admire the trouble they ’d taken . And the nerve . Fifteen kilometers – on the outside . They must have buck a ride on the elevator running paraphernalia .
wiretap , tap , tappity - tap , tap .
The phone was be adrift away now , toward the next compartment . In which , so enounce the schematics , there was an air lock .
Ravi ’s lips twitch , animated by vindictive roguishness . He was mean to think that aliens were jazz on the air lock door . Maybe even sound the alarum and make a all over mug of himself . And then Ansimov or whoever it was would burst in and live diffuse his stupidity all over the ship .
But not if the airlock was actually , like , locked .
Ravi ’s smile grew wider . With the elevator going nowhere and stock tanks , there was no way Ansimov had enough air to freestyle 15 klicks to safe . He ’d have to tap Ravi to allow him in . And when Ravi spread his hands and say the ignition lock was jammed , Ansimov would be the one panicking . Punker punk’d .
There was a little tightening in Ravi ’s right eye as he turned on the video camera . Technically , he was maltreat the privacy Pentateuch . Only medics and engineers had a recording function , and it was for piece of work use only . But Ansimov was similarly fit out , so … .
Racing to perplex Ansimov to the air lock , Ravi reach the hatch to the next compartment and flitted through . The compartment itself was little more than an anteroom . It was small and cramped , with starlight as the only illumination . The blue light of the Milky Way shone through the porthole in the air lock ’s intimate room access , make believe silhouette of the ice - rim emergency suits that line the bulwark like an honor sentry duty .
Ravi just discover . He rushed to reach the inner room access before Ansimov reached the outer one , and succeed . The outer doorway deadlocked with a satisfying thunk , and Ravi impart himself a metaphorical pat on the back . So long as the inner door was open , the outer one would remain unopen . That was how air lock work . There was nothing Ansimov could do about it .
Tappity - rap , pat .
Ansimov and whatever he was dragging across the hull were getting closer . Ravi floated through the airlock to the outer room access and compact his face against the embrasure . He did n’t want the photographic camera to miss a thing .
The view , it had to be said , was striking . The porthole looked “ up ” toward the prow of the ship . He could see the gantry that work the ship ’s kilometer - long spine stretching away from him , its crisscross swagger coat with layer of icy , pink dust . And then , in the vacuum - light distance , the home ground wheels , rotating about the spine in tiresome stateliness , each one prompt face-to-face to its neighbour , their wall dotted with brightness level . And beyond even the wheel , more than 20 kilometers from where he was floating , sat the vast disk of the ship ’s forward shield , a shade off area of black against the white brilliance of Tau Ceti , the Destination Star .
There was a cheek at the embrasure .
It was n’t Ansimov , or even Boz . It was a young woman – a girl , really – no older than he was . blond . Blue - eyed . A friendly smiling revealed slimly crooked tooth . Ravi stare at her in skeptical horror .
She was n’t wearing a spacesuit .
Excerpt from Braking Day by Adam Oyebanji reprinted by permit . right of first publication DAW .
Braking Day by Adam Oyebanji is out April 5 , and you may pre - order a copyhere .
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