The IX
Warriors from the past, present, and future
fight to save us all.
Arden, home to a culture that has existed for thousands of years and which spans dozens of worlds. Regardless, their sophistication cannot prevent calamity at the hands of an unstoppable nemesis. Known only as the Horde, this enemy has proven relentless. They have not only stripped the outer colonies bare but now threaten the existence of the entire Ardenese way of life.
Realizing there is nothing they can do to prevent the inevitable march toward extinction, the Ardenese governing body comes to a drastic decision. They gather together at their capital city, Rhomane, and place their remaining genetic heritage in a vast underground ark, in the care of an advanced AI construct called the Architect.
Its mission? To use Rhomane’s dwindling reserves and safeguard their race by reaching out across time and space toward those who might be in a position to help reseed a devastated world at some time in the future.
Soldiers from varying eras and vastly different backgrounds are snatched away from Earth at the moment of their passing and transported to the far side of the galaxy. Thinking they have been granted a reprieve, their relief turns to horror when they discover they face a stark ultimatum:
Fight or die.
Despite overwhelming odds, this group of misfits manages to turn the tide against a relentless foe, only to discover the true cost of victory might exact a price they are unwilling to pay.
If you like your science fiction to include fast paced, gritty, realistic action and dark humor in the face of overwhelming odds, then The IX is definitely an adventure for you.
“The author deftly weaves the horrors of the Horde stealing human life-essences, with the beauty of his prose and imagery. I was right there, on Arden, while reading. Action-packed through every chapter, the story unfolds as former enemies are forced to learn how to trust each other, to trust the visions and experiences of those who walk the spirit-world, and to share information. I highly recommend this book to fans of SF, horror, and fantasy.”
— Ann Stolinsky,
Amazing Stories
AmazingStoriesMag.com
“Weston's mix of history, metaphysics and real science ventures into territory not often explored in science fiction. What happened to the IX Legion of ancient Rome? Find out here, where Past, Present and Future are masterfully blended in an epic novel that takes classic elements to new heights. Weston has a true gift for superb storytelling and memorable characters. This one is not to be missed.”
— Joe Bonadonna, author of
Mad Shadows:
The Weird Tales of Dorgo the Dowser, Three Against The Stars
Perseid Press
P. O. Box 584, Centerville, MA 02632
The IX
Copyright © Andrew P. Weston
First Perseid Press Edition, 2015
First Perseid Pres Kindle Edition, 2015
First Perseid Press ePub Edition, 2015
The Perseid Press
P.O. Box 584, Centerville, MA 02632
A Perseid Press Original
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual events or person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Cover art: Roy Mauritsen
Map image: Andrew P. Weston, Roy Mauritsen
Cover image © Perseid Press 2015
Cover design: Roy Mauritsen
Book design: Sarah Hulcy
eBook design: Mikey Brooks
Trade Paperback edition: ISBN 13-978-0-9864140-0-8, ISBN 10-098641400X
Kindle Digital edition: ISBN 13-978-0-9864140-1-5, ISBN 10-0986414018
ePub Digital edition: ISBN 13-978-0-9864140-2-2, ISBN 10-0986414026
DEDICATION
“I only regret that I have but one life to give for my country.”
— Captain Nathan Hale
(June 6, 1755 - September 22, 1776)
Dedicated to our veterans who faced the ultimate choice.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
To the team at Perseid Press, who embraced a simple idea,
and turned it into something awesome.
PROLOGUE
For as far as his eye could see, the endless tide of rabid hunger continued to advance. They came pouring into the valley from all sides, and the entire basin was soon filled with seething, shrieking monstrosities of every conceivable shape and form. Not one of them stood under two decans in height.
Nearing their goal, the leading entities of the Horde howled with malice and leaped forward. Dashing their bodies against the augmented might of the battlements seemed pointless to Sariff, for the attackers achieved nothing but to spend their vitality in a blaze of explosive fury. Yet the utter futility resulting from their lack of imagination did nothing to lessen their frenzy. Despite their comrades’ fate, wave after wave of them continued throwing themselves to their deaths in wanton abandon. So great did the overwhelming press of shadow and flame become that the repeated detonations of each attacker’s self immolation grew into one prolonged cacophony of light and heat. Despite its density, the entire breadth of the wall thrummed under the weight of the assault.
And still they come.
Sariff blanched in the face of the onslaught, witnessed here on Arden for the first time. As First Magister of Rhomane City, he seized the opportunity to study the enemy closely, for his would be the deciding vote in a decision that would seal the fate of their people.
He shook his head in disbelief, for he could see no respite from the relentless storm threatening to engulf them.
Thirty planets overrun in the space of just fifteen months. More than fifty billion souls lost. A history and a culture spanning more than twelve thousand years brought to this.
It’s a bitter pill to swallow.
And we risk it all on an idea . . .
What choice do we have?
Everywhere he looked, Sariff saw only the inevitability of death. Unless, by some miracle, Calen’s gamble paid off. That thought reminded him.
I’d better get a move on.
So mesmerized was he by the display of savagery below, he almost collided with the duty commander, Sol Beren. Sariff hadn’t heard the soldier’s silent approach, but that was understandable. The veteran warrior was a skilled tracker, renowned for keeping his men on their toes by his sudden, wraithlike appearances at different stations along the wall. Everyone marveled how he could be seen taking the lead at one post only to be spotted minutes later on the other side of the city entirely, without having used the transport pads.
His face a mask of determination, Beren studied the conflict before him. A cold and empty gaze reflected the bitter frustrations of a man who had seen too many men die worthless deaths. Sariff wished there was something he could say to ease the commander’s burden. Instead, all he could ask was: “Will it hold?”