Summary:

Deep within the coldly-glowing Curtain Nebula, drifts the Space Control Corps’ greatest installation, “Fortress Unicorn.” Part port-of-call, part battle station, the “Unicorn” was once home to thousands but has seen its personnel reduced to no more than a skeleton crew since the development of abrain technology—a type of cranial implant that allows a single individual to wield the knowledge of an entire civilization. Surviving the cutbacks and still toiling within Unicorn’s cavernous docks are two abrain-equipped contraband dispersal specialists, a quirky, bohemian Rolf Guten and his stoic partner, Virg Markham, whose duties include identifying and sending to auction materials seized by SCC enforcer ships. Yet, as they appraise their greatest find ever—a stolen shipment of priceless sculptures—they are unaware that their very minds have been invaded by a vicious Trojan program. One that will impel them to assist in the most audacious criminal heist in galactic history and set into motion a chain of events that will threaten to rock the Republic to its core.

Excerpt:

Serviceman Cal Zeroez never heard the quick, uneven footsteps crossing the deck behind him.

He’d been deep inside one of the server farms on SCC station NetCent Two, guiding a load of replacement spintronic memory cores down long aisles of liquid-cooled computational machinery, his cart drifting smoothly on frictionless bearings. The only sounds impinging on his awareness were the soft huff and wheeze of the ventilation systems, the slight hum of the coolant pumps, and the intermittent buzz of a defective lighttube three aisles over—just enough noise to mask the intruders’ approach.

At the end of the row, Cal had stopped briefly to peer out through one of a series of viewports that lined the end of the slowly rotating cylindrical station. He watched the Trader’s Star creep over the rim of the gas giant Iris far below, painting the water-ice cloud tops pink, and the methane regions below a roiling blue-green. Although he’d seen the sight countless times before, Cal still found it breathtaking. The cloud bands shifted subtly with the long Iris seasons. No two dawns were ever exactly alike.

Cal had sighed, thinking of his Leona. How she’d be amazed by this. Photos or stims simply didn’t do it justice.

It was then that they’d come.

Cal’s subconscious had registered a tremor in the rubberized plate beneath his feet. A prickly wave of sensed-presence stood up the hair on the back of his neck. A split-second later he was assaulted by vapors of booze and the kind of stink that only comes from months spent living on a space vessel without working showers.

Strong hands gripped him. Cal felt the soft flesh of his neck pushed inward by something sharp—just gently enough not to draw blood. He looked down and saw a be-runed and baroquely etched bayonet attached to the business end of a magnetic blaster. The fat barrel of the weapon sparkled with carefully glued pink and silver sequins.

Another man, similarly armed, emerged from the end of the next aisle and kicked the cart. It drifted as silently and inexorably as a supercargo in freefall, crossing the floor to crash against the wall between two of the viewports.

“‘ello, Cal,” the man who reeked of gin said, his voice a high tenor which seemed out of place in his large, flabby body. With his underworld accent, he didn’t speak the language, he chopped at it. “Y’know what this is?”

“Y-yes,” he replied.

Picking up his partner’s cue, the other man leered through the grime and stubble. He even had some of his teeth left. “Know what it does?”

The blaster was the shortened version of a magnetic blunderbuss. Its type was unmistakable, even through the bizarre decorations. Cal saw the breach where the pellet cans went in and the inertial compensator that would absorb the magarm’s terrific recoil.

“They do train us you know,” he said.

The intruders laughed raucously. “Yeahs, ‘magine they do. Butchy lotta good it does.”

[end excerpt]
 

Reviews:

"'The Fourth Casket' is a choice and highly recommended pick that shouldn't be overlooked for sci-fi fans!" -- John Burroughs, Midwest Book Review

"This is an excellent book...I greatly enjoyed. The characterizations are rich and well-done... No one is entirely two-dimensional. The pace is brisk but not headlong, and the small quiet pauses where we and the heroes contemplate how the technology works are both informative and refreshing. While there’s violence, it’s not the main point. Instead, it explores identity, fame, and life, and ends satisfactorily while still leaving room for a sequel. I’d love to see more work set in this universe, and look forward to the author’s future works." -- R. S. Riley, RiseReviews.com

"This creative, enthralling novel by D.T. Mears is certainly an unforgettable piece of work that will try the minds of science-fiction readers, and non-science fiction readers, alike. Detailed descriptions, exciting characters, and a mysterious setting add to this spectacular page-turner. 'The Fourth Casket' is certainly an addicting novel that will entrap the attention of readers, and ensure they will be asking for more after the very last word is read." -- Allison Griffith, AllBookReviews.com

About the Author

D. T. Mears grew up on the shores of Hood Canal. After an adolescence filled with computer games and Dungeons and Dragons campaigns, Mears graduated from the University of Washington then went on to complete an internship with IBM. Later, Mears spent nearly a decade writing numerical modeling software and living and working for a time in the People’s Republic of China, where he experienced the SARS epidemic firsthand. An avid reader of fantasy, horror, and science fiction, his interests gradually grew to encompass history, theoretical physics and cosmology, philosophy, and the development of mythology and religions. D. T. Mears currently resides in Western Washington. “The Fourth Casket” is his first novel. http://www.dtmears.com