Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    The Symphony of Sol: I Shall Not Rest in Peace
    The Symphony of Sol: I Shall Not Rest in Peace
    The Symphony of Sol: I Shall Not Rest in Peace
    Ebook136 pages2 hours

    The Symphony of Sol: I Shall Not Rest in Peace

    By B. L. White

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    Haru has inherited a Solar System on the brink of war. He aims to repair it, planet by bleeding planet. Mars is his first stop. A beautiful clone, christened as Leena-58, is to be sacrificed for peace. Haru has come to save her and others of her kind. She must choose though, to live and fight for true peace or be murdered for a false one.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherB. L. White
    Release dateSep 10, 2011
    The Symphony of Sol: I Shall Not Rest in Peace
    Author

    B. L. White

    Brian lives in the heartlands of the United States, working as a music and piano teacher by day and avid nap-taker and sleeper by night... with a little writing in-between. He has been writing for several years with multiple unfinished ideas. Perhaps he can neglect his students long enough to finish a few of them. When not terribly busy (usually in Summer Break) he enjoys satiating his Minecraft addiction, watching Game of Thrones, reading some Louis L'amour, composing zany tunes, and playing hop scotch with the cat. Long walks on the beach are out of the question (river's too muddy).

    Related to The Symphony of Sol

    Related ebooks

    Science Fiction For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      The Island (catullus 64)

      Mar 1, 2022

      Back then the evergreens tumbled downriverfrom the glaze-white runoff to the boot-stirred puddlesof amber young men who fulfilled our destiny,who clambered into ships, on horses, and in wagonspainting the newfound landscapes ours.Our calling was nobl

      9 min read

    • Article

      Spell

      Apr 25, 2018

      Spell
      4 min read

    • Article

      In The Spotlight:your Writing Dark Side

      Dec 7, 2023

      Spooky season evidently offered creative inspiration aplenty for the WM writers, who responded to the call for writing in November’s crime-themed issue on the theme of ‘Dark Side’ with our fullest mailbox yet. The poetry and prose sent in demonstrate

      4 min read

    • Article

      Ursula K. Le Guin

      Jun 15, 2018

      He was thinking of Lookfar, abandoned long ago, beached on the sands of Selidor. Little of her would be left by now, a plank or two down in the sand maybe, a bit of driftwood on the western sea. As he drifted near sleep he began to remember sailing t

      15 min read

    • Article

      Stop Hating on Adjectives!

      Jun 12, 2019

      A common admonition in creative writing pedagogy is, “Cut as many adjectives as possible.” I propose that this rule springs from mere prejudice. The post Stop Hating on Adjectives! appeared first on The Millions.

      7 min read

    • Article

      The Call Of The Wild

      Nov 30, 2020

      The Call Of The Wild
      2 min read

    • Article

      Five Poems

      May 1, 2019

      “My arm is so brown and so beautiful,” is a thought I haveas I’m about to turn off the lamp and go to sleep.I look at it a moment in the soft glow, and see it, briefly,as though it belonged to someone else. A reddishkind of brown, like a toasted almo

      7 min read

    • Article

      Until The Sea Closed Over Us And The Light Was Gone

      Jul 1, 2020

      —Dante, Canto XXVI But if the truth is dreamed of toward the morning—El Paso Although it was really last summer’s song,all this summer Despacito played on as slower then I turned myself to gazeupon Juarez. The summer everything hurts my eyes, a dozen

      6 min read

    • Article

      Four Poems

      May 1, 2022

      —after Gerrit van Honthorst’s “Samson and Delilah,” c. 1621 They’ve made a monster of me, marring my namefor eternity. I’m not Delilah,but Laila. I loved him. Each night, in bed, after our bodies became one body, he would succumb to sleep, resting hi

      3 min read

    • Article

      Commonplace Book

      Jun 4, 2018

      I like long walks, especially when they are taken by people who annoy me. —Fred Allen I have always wondered, in reading travels, at the childish joy travellers felt at meeting people they knew, and their sense of loneliness when they did not, in

      4 min read

    • Article

      The Siren Song

      Nov 18, 2019

      The Siren Song
      5 min read

    • Article

      In The Palace Of Forgetting

      Jan 1, 2023

      In the spring of 2019, poet Matthew Kelsey suffered the loss of his mother. Less than a year later, he would lose his father to COVID-19. The following is a poem-interview between Keith Leonard (questions) and Matthew Kelsey (answers) that began in J

      12 min read

    • Article

      To See ‘Such Color’

      Jan 4, 2022

      To See ‘Such Color’
      8 min read

    • Article

      ‘Cantoras’: Featured Fiction from Carolina De Robertis

      Sep 3, 2019

      The first time—which would become legend among them—they entered in darkness. Night enfolded the sand dunes. Stars clamored around a meager slice of moon. The post ‘Cantoras’: Featured Fiction from Carolina De Robertis appeared first on The Millions.

      4 min read

    • Article

      Siren Song

      Aug 27, 2021

      Siren Song
      10 min read

    • Article

      Voyager

      Nov 27, 2023

      Voyager
      7 min read

    • Article

      Two Poems

      Jul 1, 2020

      I look to the tree line & already the leavesare ripping themselves away from their mothers. It is only August but I am already rising earlyfor a crisp moon, smoking in the rare chill of a shaded patio. My breasts have begun pickling,the fat rounds pr

      2 min read

    • Article

      Part 1 WHEN FISH FLY: The Revolt on the Slave Ship Creole

      Jan 1, 2022

      Part 1 WHEN FISH FLY: The Revolt on the Slave Ship Creole
      6 min read

    • Article

      An Open Palm

      Apr 14, 2022

      An Open Palm
      10 min read

    • Article

      As the World Collapses

      Jul 27, 2017

      As the World Collapses
      7 min read

    • Article

      Five Poems

      Jan 1, 2022

      The painting is of a door, its wood so warpedwith moisture it cannot close. It stays ajar leaving a sliver of light—enough to suggestsomething sweet and almost unreachable behind the door—and you sit in yourroom working on the bills or those comforti

      4 min read

    • Article

      Four Poems

      Jan 1, 2021

      I learned the world through the bottoms of my feet, barein the creeks of summer, stepping on pebbles, the squidgeof moss between my toes. On hot asphalt, the hop and skipover cracks, feet already toughened by bramble, dirt, the pricklyground of pine

      4 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for The Symphony of Sol

    0 ratings

    0 ratings0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      The Symphony of Sol - B. L. White

      The Symphony of Sol

      I Shall Not Rest in Peace

      B.L. White

      The Symphony of Sol: I Shall Not Rest in Peace

      By B. L. White

      Published by Brian White at Smashwords

      Copyright 2011B. L. White

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      ~to my Father

      whose knowledge of science and fiction

      compelled me to write of it ~

      Special Thanks

      Many valiant souls have followed my lead down this windy path: plagued with belated drafts, otherworldly changes, personal problems with word processors, and pesky little due dates. Written here are but a few survivors:

      I give a special thanks to my Mom, Dad, and to my brothers—Dave and Mark—for putting up with an overactive imagination; to my editor, Erin, for her knowledge of commas and graciousness at any last-minute changes; to my cover artist, Danya, for her passion, skill, and strong work ethic.

      A wonderful thanks to my, as of yet, nameless but very effective writer’s group: Jason Craft and Amanda White (related only in Christ), for your expertise and skill of the written word.

      A heart-felt thanks to my demo-readers: Markus (the half knight), Father (third thanks is a charm), and Fontaine.

      A warm thanks to my other friends—as numerous as the stars in the sky—for your many helpful diversions and joy in this life!

      And of course, an abounding thanks to Christ Jesus, his grace has seen me through it all!

      Table of Contents

      Prelude

      I The Waking Dream

      II The Peaceful Worlds Carnival

      III Crimson Gate

      IV Sol Specter

      V Decent

      VI Ascension

      VII Freedom and Peace

      Finale

      Prelude

      The dark-haired spacer opened his mind to the musical instrument. Black and white patterns came alive at his bidding, dancing off the dark gray jumpsuit and forming a long, thin piano-board. Two pedals unwrapped around his legs and hovered near his feet. Long fingers expertly touched the bendable keys. A melody of haunting loss entered the small cabin of the large space vessel. Rian opened his mouth and sang a song to match.

      The star was distant, colored red

      Up close, it’s rusted sands instead.

      The lands were desert, cold as ice,

      But in the canyons, warm and nice.

      It’s said that those first few who came,

      They never had the will to tame

      That brutal warrior god of ours.

      No man has conquered brooding Mars.

      The swirling sandstorms covered all,

      An angry god’s abrasive brawl,

      Turning scientific men,

      To wide-eyed corpses buried in.

      But then came Earth-born companies,

      Backed with stock-exchanging fees;

      They built their mining ore machines,

      That dug beneath those warm ravines.

      They planted gene-spliced aqua trees,

      To terraform the gritty breeze.

      They built grand cityscapes and trains,

      That brightened nights with flashing lights,

      Glimmering across those rocky plains.

      The star was distant, colored red

      Up close it’s magnet roads instead.

      The terra air was cool and nice,

      Within the ground was ore’s sweet vice.

      It’s said that many spacers came

      To test their wills and stake their claim.

      Across the Martian rocky scars;

      Humanity once conquered Mars!

      The mighty sandstorms lessened then.

      As generations lived and died,

      The weaker gravity affected them,

      Growing them so tall and wide.

      A different storm came,

      The soul was weighed.

      To trade or to fight over ore,

      What’s right was soon ignored.

      Those giant Martian Men,

      In their overgrown bodies of sin.

      How their science fell, to the gods of the old.

      Thus, ending tyranny’s hold.

      The star was distant, colored red

      Up close, it’s broken lands instead.

      The Martian ways were hardly nice,

      Trapped in hearts of hardened ice.

      It seems that far too many came,

      Daring as they must to tame.

      That brutal warrior god of ours.

      Will man ever conquer Mars?

      A swirling virus covered all,

      From Ares’ tribe whose children fall,

      Burning scientific men

      To wide-eyed corpses, in the sand.

      And, oh, the day the giants fled

      Old Mars wasn’t much the same.

      The followers of gods they came

      Killing all of Ares’ children,

      Judgment for their greatest shame.

      The star is distant, colored red.

      Up close, it’s holy lands instead.

      The new, red men have blinded eyes,

      Within a heart of hardened lies.

      The swirling sandstorms cover all

      An angry god’s abrasive brawl

      Neglect has changed this land of ours,

      Humanity is conquered,

      By the holy gods, of brooding, angry Mars.

      Rian struck the final synthetic key. Focused thoughts transformed the frequency of the sound waves. Gently, his left foot tapped the floating volume pedal, sinking toes into it until the sorrowful chord melted away. Only distant harmonics were heard; distant harmonics and Rian’s voice that died with it.

      Silence as still as the void of space.

      The musician exhaled. His audience of two clapped with energetic hands. The 11-year-old girl was loudest of all. A plastic cat floated on her shoulders in the zero gravity of the ship, doing its best to mimic her with robotic paws.

      The other patron, a stocky, copper-haired spacer, spoke with a wide grin, Wonderfully played, Rian!

      I can always count on Patrik for flattery, Rian replied while fitting his feet into the handles of the wall. He gave a haphazard bow, releasing tiny droplets of perspiration in the weightless air. A swoosh of dark hair followed his head back up, exaggerating the movement. He focused brown eyes on Patrik’s oldest daughter.

      And what did you think?

      Talora wrinkled the tip of her freckle-crested nose and said, Your voice cracks too much.

      Rian laughed at this, instructing the thin piano pedals with his mind. They dutifully folded onto his pant legs. I fear your daughter is more honest, Patrik. I can write and play a song; I just can’t sing it.

      Patrik pushed off the wall and flew towards the floating piano-board, touching one of its keys. His face held a mischievous glint, My daughter’s a bit stuffy. You sing it fine.

      Talora lunged at her dad then, lavender hair trailing behind in wavy strands like Halley’s comet. He caught her in mid-flight, moving backwards from the momentum, hitting the piano keys in an off-chord embrace.

      Rian escaped to the far wall and watched in mild amusement. Patrik lost the wrestling match and was stuck in zero G, at the mercy of his daughter. She wedged herself against the wall and gave her dad a shove. The copper-haired spacer flew into Rian, and all three fell into a fit of laughter.

      Rian had met Patrik’s family at one of Jupiter’s Lagrange point stations. He had traveled far in their ship since then, working as an art and music tutor for Talora and her sisters Saran and Ferna. Little boy Jun was still too young to learn anything other than how to use a simple computer.

      Talora had grown much since then. She would soon be reaching her Jupiter Year of 11.8 Earth years old. This meant that she would become a woman. Her long, lavender strands of hair would have to be cut. It will be a shame, thought Rian. Though the length was impractical for space travel, it reminded him of Old Earth.

      She did not notice his scrutiny of her hair. Her eyes were already closed to the outside world. She had turned on the iNode attached to her hair braid, losing herself to a lucid dream.

      ~//~

      Her iNode reformed thoughts into images dictated by the touchie. Inner eyes saw a white glare surrounded by blue ones. The glares focused into a small island amidst ocean waves. Her toes felt the grainy texture of the white sands. She looked up and saw a clear Earth-like sky, as blue as sapphire. She wondered where the sun was. Bright yellow Sol appeared immediately in response to her thoughts. Its glare was a bit too much until she thought up an atmosphere. People of various kinds began to populate the island. They were changing people, sequencing through multiple races, ages, genders, and sizes. The touchie program was shifting through her memories. She didn’t like her own race of Caucasians to dominate the scene. The scent of Indian spice entered her nostrils. She smiled at this. The program responded with an immediate population of Indians. She toned it down a bit, peppering the scene with Africans and Asians… and a few whites for good measure.

      A tall dark man walked up to her, abnormally high and ungainly. This scene is on Earth, she thought with a frown. She felt a tug upon her skin. Immediately the tall man began to wobble and fall under the strong Earth-like gravity. But I accept it all before me. The wobbly man regained his composure and walked up to her. A slender hand extended out of a dark red robe. She touched his long fingers, feeling the grooves of his rough skin.

      How was the moon? She asked politely.

      The tall man bowed down to her, whispering something into her ear, I’m from Old Mars.

      A stray thought entered the touchie then, Rian’s recently recorded song came alive, playing inside Talora’s head. With the blink of her inner-eye, she sped up to the lines of the song that mattered.

      …generations lived and died,

      The weaker gravity affected them,

      Growing them up more tall and wide.

      She tried to use the outernet to access RED and search for the meaning of these words. Instead she opened a mental menu of video games and other touchies. When she returned out of the menu, her own touchie had deconstructed. With a sigh she closed it down and opened her eyes. Father was saying something to Rian. She only caught the last part of it.

      "—going to need more than just words

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1