Junction (Fiction Without Frontiers, Band 1) - Hardcover

Bensen, Daniel M.

Hardcover

ISBN 10: 1787580962 ISBN 13: 9781787580961

Verlag: Flame Tree Publishing, 2019

Inhaltsangabe

"The author’s creativity gambols across the planet along with his characters, and the journey is as much about the weird creatures as it is about the human drama. Readers will enjoy taking a trip to Junction and experiencing some of its bizarre wonders." - Publishers Weekly

When Japanese nature show host Daisuke Matsumori finds himself on an alien world, he hopes to rekindle his passion for his work. Traveling through a newly-discovered wormhole in the Papuan highlands, he joins biologist Anne Houlihan on Junction, a patchwork planet of competing alien ecosystems.

When their exploratory party crashes in the alien wilderness, Daisuke and Anne try to lead bickering soldiers and civilians back to civilization alive. As they trek across one unearthly biome after another and members of the party continue to die, however, Daisuke wonders whether human politics might be more deadly than alien biology. One of his companions might be a murderer.

FLAME TREE PRESS is the new fiction imprint of Flame Tree Publishing. Launched in 2018 the list brings together brilliant new authors and the more established; the award winners, and exciting, original voices.

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorinnen und Autoren

Daniel M. Bensen writes alternate history, science fiction, and fantasy – usually with kissing, always with a bibliography. His work includes Junction, the Sidewise Award-winning short story Treasure Fleet, and his novella Petrolea. He is represented by Jennie Goloboy of Donald Maass Literary Agency.

Dan was born in Chicago and has since lived in Maine, California, Montana, Japan, and Boston. He currently lives in Sofia, Bulgaria, where he teaches English and resides with his daughters, wife, and in-laws in the Balkan Tower of Matriarchy.

AWARDS:

Treasure Fleet, Sidewise Awards for Alternate History, Best Short-Form Alternate History, 2016

Daniel M. Bensen writes alternate history, science fiction, and fantasy – usually with kissing, always with a bibliography. His work includes Junction, the Sidewise Award-winning short story Treasure Fleet, and his novella Petrolea. He is represented by Jennie Goloboy of Donald Maass Literary Agency.

Dan was born in Chicago and has since lived in Maine, California, Montana, Japan, and Boston. He currently lives in Sofia, Bulgaria, where he teaches English and resides with his daughters, wife, and in-laws in the Balkan Tower of Matriarchy.

AWARDS:





Treasure Fleet, Sidewise Awards for Alternate History, Best Short-Form Alternate History, 2016

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Junction

By Daniel M. Bensen

Flame Tree Publishing Ltd

Copyright © 2018 Daniel M. Bensen
All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-78758-096-1

CHAPTER 1

On Camera

Daisuke Matsumori faked a smile and held out a dead mouse. The little corpse dangled by its tail, its eyes closed, its toes clenched, observed by the cassowary.

"Ah, he sees it," Daisuke stage-whispered at the camera. "See how he's focusing on it. Look at those forward-pointing eyes. Like a little tyrannosaurus, isn't he? All right. Here he comes."

The cassowary charged. Its beak gaped. The horny casque on its head cut the air like a shark's dorsal fin. Hairlike black feathers streamed behind pumping legs. The claws on its inner toes flashed, each the length of Daisuke's middle finger, ready to disembowel him if he made a wrong move.

Daisuke kept smiling. He even managed to keep his eyes from shutting as the flightless bird dashed past him, snatching the mouse from his hands. The cassowary ran until it got to the other end of the enclosure, then stretched its neck and choked its snack down with a toss of its wrinkly blue head. Its orange wattles jiggled and suddenly the cassowary was ridiculous again. Someone without Daisuke's experience would see only a fluffy puppet, prancing to entertain children.

Which was why Daisuke wasn't surprised when he heard his director say, "Cut! No, it's still not right. Not enough danger."

Daisuke allowed his smile to drop. "It could have killed me."

"Maybe, but it didn't look like it," said Yoshida from behind the camera. "We need to film you fighting something with more horror. A snake, a shark, a crocodile, or something."

"We've done crocodiles," said Daisuke.

"So we'll do crocodiles again. That's what the Iron Man of Survival Does! You throw yourself at dangerous beasts. You eat bugs. You gush about how splendid nature is." Yoshida made chopping gestures with his hands. "So tell the animal handlers to take us to their biggest reptile. And let's lose your shirt, okay? Smear some mud on your chest."

Daisuke suppressed a sigh and turned to the handler standing in the cassowary cage with his animal control pole held ready. "Thank you," Daisuke said in English. "That was very good. Now I must wrestle a crocodile. Okay?"

"Okay!" said the handler, obviously thrilled to be part of a Japanese wilderness survivor show.

Was I ever that happy to be doing this work? Daisuke tried and failed to summon up some pre-divorce enthusiasm. At least this guy's salary won't all go to a bunch of lawyers. Even the cassowary gets a mouse out of the deal.

"Stop frowning!" said Yoshida. "While the camera is running, that expression on your face is hard to look at.".

Yes, I am close to burning out. Thank you for your concern.

But Yoshida was right, damn him. Searching for control, Daisuke rubbed the groove on the finger where he'd once worn his wedding ring. The ring was no longer there, but the skin where it had been still bore a subtle groove. He could feel it, even if he could no longer feel Eriko's cool fingertips on his lips or hear her voice before he left for a shoot. "Switch on that smile," she'd told him, and he had. Daisuke had flashed his teeth like magnesium flares and ridden the dazzling expression to his spot as the star of the most popular nature show on Japanese television.

The cassowary growled at him, a basso rasp evocative of wild boars and hungry dinosaurs. Careful not to turn his back on the murderous bird, Daisuke let himself out of the cage.

Yoshida scratched the back of his bald head. "It's just one more series, right? A month in the jungle and then vacation! What are you going to do with all that free time?"

Brooding, mostly. But what Daisuke said was, "Let's find those crocodiles."

"And take off your shirt," said Yoshida. "I was serious about that."

Of course he was. Well, at least I'll be cooler when I'm shirtless and smeared with mud.

The Port Moresby Nature Park was insulated from the noisy chaos of the rest of the capital of Papua New Guinea, but it was still too hot, and far too humid. The air still felt like it would be more efficient to breathe through gills. Why couldn't NHK have put my farewell performance in Kamchatka? Daisuke yearned for rustling larch forests and crystalline streams, but his most highly rated series of survivor shows had taken place in a jungle. Therefore, according to the merciless logic of funding, so would this last expedition.

On their way to the crocodile pool, Daisuke, Yoshida, and the cameraman passed under the malevolent gaze of the giant praying mantis statue at the center of the park. They were supposed to be establishing the scene before Daisuke was whisked away into the leech-filled marshes of the New Guinea lowlands. There, he would spend the next few weeks grinning into the camera as the elements punished his body, then back to eating microwaved rice in his empty apartment while despair shriveled his soul.

Suffering is the core of my career, thought Daisuke. What an asshole I must have been in my previous life to deserve this.

The satellite phone on Yoshida's belt rang.

"Hello?" The director's sweaty forehead folded with sudden confusion. "Who may I —? Ah, yes, sir! Of course, sir." He thrust the phone at Daisuke. "It's Mr. Takeda."

"Yes?" Daisuke took the phone and pressed his producer's chilly growl to his ear.

"You can speak English, right?"

"To some extent," Daisuke said, sharing a wary look with Yoshida. "Ah, you might not have been aware of this, sir, but we are in the middle of a shoot --"

"It's over!" barked the producer. "Pack up. Prepare for departure."

"Departure, sir?"

"Huh?" Yoshida snatched his phone back with nothing more than a perfunctory nod and a, "Thanks, Matsumori."

He wouldn't have done that last year. When his job was my favor to him and not his to me, my director would have let me hold that phone for as long as I damn well pleased.

Stop, Daisuke ordered himself. There might still be a camera trained on him. This might all be some bizarre stunt by NHK to insert drama into Daisuke's final performance.

That meant he couldn't let the bitterness he felt show on his face. Daisuke was as much a trapped performer as that flightless bird in its cage, forced to turn somersaults for food.

Daisuke rubbed his empty ring finger, pretending he could forget that he was standing under the glare of his future audience. Now, what could he do with his hands? How about wipe off some of the sweat piling up over his eyebrows? Yes, that would look natural.

The phone conversation had gone on too long. If there was still a camera on him, there was no way they were going to use this footage. And even if they were, the audience would certainly expect some curiosity on the part of the Iron Man of Survival. "What's going on?" Daisuke asked his director. "What's happening? What's wrong?"

His director waved him away. "Sir, I'm afraid that that is impossible," he said into the phone. "The money is already — Canceled?"

Daisuke allowed his face to show surprise, but none of the relief or fear he felt. He didn't have to drag himself through the New Guinea swamps. He could just drag himself back to Tokyo. Think of all the extra rice I'll be able to microwave.

Yoshida wiped his own brow, his face red. "So, are you saying we should just go home?"

The director pulled the phone away from his ear as if it had bitten him. That allowed Daisuke to hear that his...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Flame Tree Publishing
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2019
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 1787580962
• ISBN 13: 9781787580961
• Einband: Gebundene Ausgabe
• Anzahl der Seiten: 240
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: Nicht verfügbar