John B. Rosenman, Inspector of the Cross
The Turtan Trilogy
Publisher: MuseItUp Publishing
Date: November 3, 2015
Vendor: Amazon Digital Services LLC
File Size: 10008 KB
After 3500 years, Turtan finally discovers a weapon that can save humanity from vicious aliens, only to be betrayed by a beautiful woman.
Turtan, after passing through a black hole with the alien enemy Turois, tries to land their spaceship on Zontena without getting killed or killing anyone.
Their descent slowed and flattened, holding at an angle of five degrees.
“Airspeed’s down to three hundred fifty KPH... We’re going to make it!” Turois sang.
Turtan ignored the other’s jubilance, concentrating on the lush terrain a scant five hundred meters below. His eyes picked out multicolored fields of blooms, Zontena’s towering trees, and on the approaching grasslands below...
His hands went cold. They were heading for the city! Struggling, he tried to throw the control to one side and then the other.
It was jammed.
“Get in your seat,” he shouted, killing the engines. “We can’t do any more here.”
They lurched to their seats, strapped themselves in. In the Central Display Screen he could see the glassy towers and sweeping bridges of the city approach, even figures turning to stare. Nearby, another indicator plotted a simulacrum of their descent along with a projection.
“We’re not going to make it,” Turois said.
“Don’t give up yet,” he said, eyes locked on the city. “It’s only a projection.”
With the engines off, they simply glided in. To both sides towering buildings passed above them. They cleared an archway by scant meters. Figures scurried for cover, broke into confused flight. He caught a glimpse of wings flapping frantically in the sun.
“We’re close to one hundred fifty KPH,” Turois said. “If we can only clear the structure ahead, we can land beyond the city with a fair chance of survival.”
Turtan saw it: a glistening pillar, heading zero-zero-nine and thirty meters below them on vid. They were still a hundred and fifty meters away. Helpless, he watched as they descended. Seventy meters away and sixteen meters below...
“Going to be close,” Turois said. “It could go either way.”
Turtan gripped the chair’s arms, wanting to scream at Turois’ calm as the pillar loomed. He saw startled avian faces frozen in windows and felt a current of air buffet them from below. Yes! A little wind was all it would take to slow their descent and clear the pillar. An unpredictable factor.
Half a meter from the top of the pillar, they hit it. He felt a slight jar as fragments of debris raked their sides and the angle of their descent increased from five to eleven degrees. A mosque-shaped structure neared.
“It might be wise to pray to your god,” Turois said.
Copyright © 2016 by John B. Rosenman