The Star Seed Hunter Book I

 

CHAPTER 1

                                                  RED SKIES

 

 

My eyelids sagged as I peered out the window, my head heavy against the soft pillows piled against the headboard. I fought to keep them open, glancing over at the closet door where a long mirror hung.

When would I learn?

Black crafts shaped like scorpions slipped onto the surface from somewhere else.

Where? I didn’t know. I never did.

My heart thumped when the world below them came into view. The black crafts cast shadows that stretched across a land splitting into violent seams.

I bolted forward. Away from the pillows.

A massive river was tearing through the fracture, swallowing houses, livestock, and those too slow to flee.

Then the sky bled red.

The images on the mirror shifted.

This was a war chamber. Strange weapons hung on the walls. Screens against black walls flickered with aerial feeds—continents cracking, resistance collapsing. An important-looking man stood with his hands clasped behind his back. A less important man, dressed in a military uniform, stood at his side. He watched the screens in silence.

“Too much force.” The important man was dressed in a black robe, its edges embroidered in red. His voice was mild as he twisted a pinky ring on his hand. “General, you overshot—again.”

“Lord Noric, only because they resisted,” the general replied.

Noric turned to him.

The general wilted beneath his gaze.

Peaceful artisans and farmers—how much resistance could they offer?

Noric gestured toward a widening fault line. Beneath it, mineral veins pulsed, alive with pale light.

“That,” he said. “That’s why this world mattered.”

Even after atmospheric collapse, the mineral endured.

Good.

It would amplify his mind far beyond its current reach. Soon, fleets would become unnecessary. Earth was already holding. The rest of humanity would never realize they had surrendered.

The beauty of telepathy.

 

 

BUMPS IN THE NIGHT

 

 

My mind lurched.

The vision was gone, the mirror showing only me on my small bed and, beside it, the window overlooking the street outside.

“Weird,” I murmured, rubbing my sleepy eyes and angry with myself. Fatigue and mirrors were the perfect mix for what I needed to avoid.

I punched my pillow and lay back against it again. I was waiting for Echo to get off work across the street.

I glanced down at my AI wristband. Nine o’clock had come and gone, but the lights inside the corner market were still on.

I pushed whatever that was on the mirror out of my mind. Stranger things had happened to me when I slept. I never told anyone, but there was a part of me—at least I thought it was me—that could do things whenever my eyes closed. Things I was certain weren't dreams.

I remembered visiting the outer rings of the Milky Way once. I'd tried to return ever since but hadn't been successful. I needed more control. Maybe one day, when I figured out how I'd done it in the first place.

Of course, it might have been PM—short for Playmate.

Yeah, there were things about me that made me different. But maybe other people had nightly playmates who could do what PM did. I wasn't sure.

I'd never told anyone about her.

Fluorescent lights spilled from the wide store window. Echo was five minutes late. A month ago, five minutes was nothing. Now, five minutes alone gave me the creeps.

I stared at my AI wristband again, thinking of how to distract myself. I looked up, avoiding the mirror, then down again. My finger hovered over Echo's hologram, then drifted toward the internet button instead.

If I popped in on her now, she'd see my face. I knew it was flushed. My heart was only now beginning to beat regularly.

I wanted to project calm.

The project we were working on with my Langdon Silver screen was already getting weird. Echo had an amazing imagination. But my content came from mirrors and dreams that contained details, histories, and rules too specific to feel like spontaneous imaginings.

I needed to watch myself. Rein in that part of me.

So, no. I wouldn't push the hologram button and give her any more reasons to question her best friend since kindergarten.

I chose the internet and searched for Aramis Langdon. Grandson of the man whose technology created my AI wristband and my Silver Screen. He was the first to win the bidding war to work with a race of scientists from the Andromeda Galaxy.  Everything changed after that. And then his grandson Aramis came of age. Despite the rumors about his strange complexion—unmistakable gold beneath his bronze skin. He was handsome, well photographed and from the interviews I’d seen of him, which included every single one. He was brilliant too.

My face swept up when the streetlights flickered on.

Echo would be here soon, and we’d return to the movie we were making.

While most of our classmates disappeared into glowing screens, endlessly scrolling and consuming whatever was placed in front of them, Echo and I stayed rooted in books, stories, and worlds we could build ourselves. We wrote screenplays hoping to break through the iron sky that kept the classes fixed. All it would take were enough clicks to go viral. And if that happened…

A giggled zipped through me when I saw her and her mom closing up and ran down the stairs. I reached the door before she could knock and caught the detachment on her face before she had a chance to mask it with a grin.

She'd been scrolling on her AI during her breaks. I could always tell. She smiled less and looked through people instead of at them. I planned on having a long talk with her about that, but now that she was working late hours, we barely had enough time together as it was.

We hugged. I breathed in the musk oil she used on her braids and smiled. The world felt right again.

"Let's focus on the big news." She said, her voice soft and husky, her eyes a mixture of joy and burning intensity.

I powered up the Silver Screen, her focus bleeding into me and urging my heart to race. The screen appeared in the air above my bed, shimmering like it was alive. Its translucent screen blinked into existence and the room felt like a strike of lightening flashed through it

Echo dragged it closer, her eyes already laser focused.

"The Langdon's announcing the shuttle to the moon?" That was news. Langdon and Aramis were giving interviews, everyone wanted to speak with them.

"Sort of." She lifted a finger to her lips. "Let's give it a twist."

Last week, we outlined a vague plot. Tonight was about putting bones on it. We needed to create something that could become our ticket to freedom. Ten thousand clicks. That’s all we needed to get free.

 

Three hours flew by and Echo was gone. I played with my AI determined to stay present. I wasn’t even looking at the mirror, but that didn’t stop it from playing the sound of people screaming. My heart told me this was just a continuation of what had happened earlier. Noric. He was the first alien that had entered the playlist of my typically fun, otherworldly adventures. I didn’t like the turn of events. And I certainly didn’t like the mirror acting on its own.

Then I remembered what he said about Earth and froze.

“No…” I whispered laying back down. I feel asleep soon after that, still wearing my T-shirt and jeans, the bedspread still perfectly made, apart from the folds and wrinkles from me laying on it.

 

 

CHAPTER 4

A GODDESS’ IMAGE

 

Nothing happened. Thank God, and the plot unfolded effortlessly. This was why Echo and I got along so well. I stayed quiet, my imagination stirring in the center of my skull. While images dancing at the edges of my being stayed put like the door to another world remained closed because something or something other than me had decided now wasn’t the right time. 

The thought made my lips quiver. I folded them inward, pressing hard enough for it to hurt as I watched Echo setting up the programs we needed.

I forced myself to behave normally. I set my AI alarm to go off in an hour. Echo grinned at me, confidence inside her dark steely eyes. And I smiled back, a soft convincing curve of my lip.

The pressure was on; four hours was all the time we had before she had to leave.

The sharp staccato of our fingers flying over the keyboards filled the room, broken only by the occasional giggle or gasp as our imaginations produced another thrilling scene. Images churned at the edge of my awareness. Faces. Places I'd only ever seen at night. They spun faster and faster until I braced myself, certain something was on the verge of coming undone.

“Shall I count down by minutes, seconds, or… ”

My AI alarm chimed. The voice was human, a woman with a crisp British accent I'd named Diana. Somehow, hearing her steadied me. The pressure that had been building eased just enough that I almost mumbled a thank you.

Echo responded to Diana with a snappy, “no”. “Just tell us when we have two minutes left.”

Diana only recognizing me asked, “Do you concur?”

“Yes… I concur. Yes.” I answered.

 

Once the two minutes were up, we proceeded to the next step: Echo would use online photographs to create the image of Aramis Langdon and another character. For my task there were photographs. I had to make up what I thought Aramis’s love interest would look like.

My imagination felt like it jumped for joy and the sensation of a motor revved fast like a jet about to take off. I kept flexing my fingers to slow down whatever it was that wanted to burst through and take over.

Beyond where Echo and I were creating the characters' physical features, something hummed through my bones and teeth.

I swallowed. This hadn't happened before. Not like this. Not with the other side slipping through while my eyes were open. I forced my fingers to still above the keys. I blinked. I thought of calling out to PM for help, but it was too late.

When my eyes parted, I was no longer looking at my bedroom.

A stone wall replaced the darkening sky behind the window, cool and worn smooth by centuries of passage. I was standing, pressed against the wall like some part of me knew to hide. Farther away I could see a long courtyard.

My heart quietly raced. The sunlight falling between vines that wrapped around the pergola, looked real. Even made me squint. I knew this place. I’d been here before.

How did I get here—to the Realm of Divinity?

The scent of morning-blooming flowers wafted by. The pollen in the air tickled my nose. I almost sneezed.

Stay hidden, a voice said in my head. Oh right—the last time I was  here with PM, we were warned never to return. This was the realm of the gods. Their punishments were nothing to joke with.

I needed to leave! I thought, my eyes darting around for a way out.

Then I heard voices traveling from the other side of the wall.

Gods and goddesses. More than one this time. The air tightened. As terrified as I was, curiosity tugged harder. I found myself edging a toe into the crack between the stones, tempted to peek around the wall.

“Julion!”

Echo’s voice cut through time and space. The world lurched, pulling me backward. Light flashed as it fractured at a mercurial speed.

My stomach dropped just as my awareness slammed back into my body.

 

“Who… who is that?” Echo’s voice was full of wonder. “Is that Aramis’s love interest?”

My chest lifted with air as I followed her gaze to the image on my template. How did I finish creating the character? Then: Oh my, she's way too alive.

The woman on the screen pulsed with life. The tips of my fingers tingled, each heartbeat sending another wave through them.

Raven hair spilled down her back in heavy waves, catching light that hadn't existed a second before. Her white gown blew in a wind that wasn't programmed into the scene.

Her eyes opened. They were big, dark and endless. Power flooded the room. The screen suspended in the air flickered, the luminous frame distorting under the strain. The air crackled, sharp and electric, raising the fine hairs along my arms, my blood roared in my ears like the ocean.

I remembered that face. She was the one who’d warned me not to visit the Realm of Divinity. Had she followed me back?

I bit my lip, worried that something bad might happen.

“Oh my God,” Echo laughed nervously. “I love the ears. They’re kind of elfin.” She leaned closer.

“No,” I whispered, too late.

Echo jerked back with a yelp, clutching her nose. A thin line of blood streaked across her fingers.

“I, Julion, did you see that?” she said, her eyes wide and unfocused, staring at the blood on her fingers. “The screen. Something flashed from it… Light… but how…?”

Yes, I'd seen it. I'd anticipated it. But Echo was right. How?

The goddess’s eyes landed on mine. She angled her head, but not with curiosity. In recognition.

The room shuddered, her gaze piercing mine through the screen, through layers of realities that had always stayed in their place during the day.

I pressed the off switch.

“Opps!” I said, as though it had been a mistake.

Echo didn’t notice. She was still gazing at the blood on her fingers.

Something was wrong. That wasn’t a computer image. That was another world breaching this one.