Read the excerpts below and follow the link to purchase Red Sky Radio using your credit card
Using a converted
space hotel as their base, Peri Fairchild and the other freelancers dive into
the clouds of Baltuss to mine gases. Their activities are challenged by the
extreme capitalists of Harvest Corporation who view them as pirates. With the
illegal radio station Red Sky Radio providing free entertainment, follow Peri,
her boyfriend Taz and the other miners as the final showdown with Harvest
Corporation leads to irrevocable changes, both for the miners and Harvest.
was the part she liked the best: descending toward the scarlet clouds, all
billowy and inviting like a forever wall of baby’s-bottoms.
Once inside the gas giant’s dense atmosphere, Peri’s view would be
artificial, a conglomeration of sensory impressions assembled by the circuitry
that resided in her utility belt and transmitted to receptors just under her
skin. Her brain was augmented to handle this flood of foreign perceptions,
sorting infrared scans and climatic pressure readings with the same ease as her
brain digested visual, auditory and tactile sensations. The spectacle found in
these clouds was breathtaking, but what Peri saw was an environmental
assessment, not a representational image. It did not exist as a four dimensional
realization, for her complete view involved a multitude of perceptual overlays
ordinarily unfound in routine human senses. She tasted a particle’s quantum
spin as vibrantly as she thrilled to the caress of its chemical composition.
Electromagnetic pulses gave her a stomach ache, while X-rays stimulated her
But before she plunged into that gaseous majesty, expanding her
perceptions into a fractalized analysis, she liked to restrict the view of her
fall to her visual cortex. That image was her favorite.
The forever wall rushed toward Peri as she plummeted into Baltuss’
massive gravity well. The cloudbanks seethed and roiled with turbulence, vast
plateaus of cloying vapor bigger than moons surging and melting back into the
intangible uniformity. There were so many shades of red--more than her heart
could count, and each one tickled her retinal cones a different way.
This was the equivalent of Peri Fairchild’s commute-to-work.
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Last updated on September 9, 2007