The Complete Clockwork Chimera Saga Read online

  The Clockwork Chimera Series

  Books 1 – 5

  Scott Baron

  Contents

  Daisy’s Run: The Clockwork Chimera Book 1

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Epilogue

  Pushing Daisy: The Clockwork Chimera Book 2

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Daisy’s Gambit: The Clockwork Chimera Book 3

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chasing Daisy: The Clockwork Chimera Book 4

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Daisy’s War: The Clockwork Chimera Book 5

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  The Dragon Mage Series

  Freebies

  Thank You!

  Also by Scott Baron

  About the Author

  Daisy’s Run: The Clockwork Chimera Book 1

  Copyright © 2018 by Scott Baron

  ISBN 978-1-945996-18-4 (Print Edition)

  All rights reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Life would be tragic if it weren’t funny.

  - Stephen Hawking

  Chapter One

  “Should we wake them? I mean, the ship is on fire, after all.”

  Barry didn’t seem stressed. In fact, his voice rarely showed any extremes of emotion at all, though that was to be expected of a cyborg.

  “It is a bit early, but yes, given the problems I am experiencing with my internal sensors and fire suppression systems, I think that would be prudent,” the disembodied voice of Malorie, the ship’s artificial intelligence system, replied. “Though I would like you on hand, just in case there are any issues cycling the crew out of cryo-sleep so early, and on such short notice.”

  “Of course, Mal. Understood.”

  The handsome flesh-and-metal man with sandy-blond hair rose from his seat in the control room and stepped into the double airlock leading to the central passageway network. Starboard Peripheral Corridor One would have been the faster route, but after the impact, with the possibility of undetected depressurization in any of the damaged and offline pod sections or one of the unmonitored inter-compartmental conduit routing spaces, he’d just have to take the long way. The inconvenience, he reasoned, was certainly preferable to being unceremoniously blasted into space.

  The Váli was a sturdy ship, and she had only been nudged slightly off course by the collision. There was time to set things right, but sooner was far better than later. At the speed and distance they were tr
aveling, “slightly” could easily become “a lot” quickly.

  Normally Mal would simply right the course herself, diverting a fraction of her attention toward adjusting the maneuvering thrusters to gently ease them back on target. In the event of a fire of any significance, however, protocol required her to wake the crew of the Váli.

  The ship’s unusual name had been taken from old Norse mythology, given to it by a cybernetically-enhanced engineer with a fondness for ancient texts. Váli, the son of Odin, brother of Thor. A god prophesied to survive Ragnarok, the end of times.

  She was a fast ship, no doubt, and extremely nimble, when not laden with additional research, living, and lab pods locked to her support frame for such a long voyage. That bulk-saving performance, however, came at a price. The multiple layers of outer shielding found on larger, sturdier vessels—the kind that would have prevented such a minor impact from damaging them in the first place—were sorely lacking, and so it passed that the ship had succumbed quite spectacularly to what would have been an otherwise minor incident.

  Barry reached midship quickly, his flesh-covered mechanical legs pistoning rapidly as he rushed down the corridor. It would have made sense in almost any other situation to have Mal simply deactivate the artificial gravity and propel himself down the passageway between airlocks, but with a potential fire inside a ship, well, you didn’t want something like that floating into unexpected places once gravity was gone. It was one of the only things keeping it reasonably contained.

  “Mal, I am in the central passageway halfway to the cryo pods. However, I detect a pressure variance coming from the lower passageway. Are you reading damage?”

  “No, but with the impact, it is possible my readings are off.”

  “I shall divert my route down a level to assess what I can while en route to cryo.”

  “Understood. My sensors are experiencing faults in that sector, but are picking up some variances that seem to correspond to your observations. Until all systems are brought back online I cannot be certain. I am concerned that one of the pods down there may be breached. If there is severe damage, we may have to disconnect and jettison it. Do be careful.”

  “Affirmative. Heading to cryo via the lower passageway instead.”

  Barry stepped onto the ladder leading down the long shaft to the lower deck. Again, he thought how much simpler it would be without the gravity engaged.

  We must work with the situation we are presented, he always reasoned. This was no different.

  The lower corridor he touched down in looked identical to the one above, as did the topmost level. The Váli was quite symmetrical in design, with a core framework of passageways, central, starboard, and port, running in parallel from stem to stern. Three identical passageways on three levels. If the ship jettisoned the myriad pods of various length and purpose that formed its living and work spaces, all of them interlocked and connected by airlocks, it would still remain a fully-functioning vessel, though a rather cramped and uncomfortable one for any organic passengers.

  The mission-critical pods were located between the central and peripheral passageways and housed crew quarters, the galley, engineering, and, of course, the cryo-pod chamber. Those pods only connected to the central passageway and the port or starboard one, depending on which side of center they lay.

  While every pod locked into the framework of the ship could be moved and rearranged depending on mission parameters, the basic configuration was typically the same. Some pods were longer than others, but the height and width never varied, allowing for a seemingly fixed size and unibody ship that was actually highly customizable to fit mission requirements.

  The outer pods were designed for greater accessibility and had three connections instead of two. The airlock leading to the common passageway was located in the middle of each pod, regardless of length, while the airlocks connecting each external pod to the adjacent one were all mounted off-center, only a meter from the central wall.

  While the outer wall had slightly thicker shielding protecting it from the harsh environment of space, should the unlikely event of an exterior layer breach occur, the off-center placement of the airlocks at each end was determined to provide a far greater likelihood of helping connected units survive intact.

  Tedious as it would be cycling through each set of double airlock doors, if one truly wanted to, they could pass the entire length of the ship from pod to pod, avoiding the corridors entirely.

  “I have located the problem,” Barry said matter-of-factly. “Debris has torn through Port Storage Pod Twelve.” He looked at the monitor flush in the wall beside the double airlock doors. “Extensive damage, but not catastrophic. The outer wall, however, is breached. Recommend Level One Isolation.”

  “As I feared. My scans are still non-functional in that section. Is nothing salvageable?” Mal asked.

  “I cannot say for certain, but it would seem unlikely, at least not until we reach Dark Side base for parts. It does appear, however, that the pod itself can be salvaged.”

  “Very well. Lower Port Twelve, isolating.”

  No sound was heard through the thick doors as the airlock space between them was instantly flooded with flash foam. In under a second the pod was sealed off from the rest of the ship. Mal could have jettisoned it, blowing the external bolts holding it to the ship’s framework, but not now. Not if it could be salvaged at some point, and certainly not with the crew still in cryo.

  “Proceeding to cryo pods,” the cyborg said as he made his way down the passageway to the next ladder and quickly ascended back up to the central corridor.

  “Do hurry, Barry. On top of possible damage to an unknown number of pods and part of my sensor array, it seems the short-range navigation system is also damaged. I’m flying a bit impaired at the moment. Additionally, one or two stubborn little fires appear to be off sensors and evading the automatic suppression system.”

  “Understood. I will make haste.”

  Barry knew all the way to his base code that, while not too big a deal in planetary atmosphere, out in the vacuum of space, a fire on board a ship could pose a huge problem, and quickly at that.

  “I’m here,” he said as he entered the cryo pod chamber. “Beginning cryogenic stasis awakening protocols. Spooling down neural stimulators.” He glanced at the readouts over the crew’s pods. “Mal, several are still in a deep neuro-stim cycle.”

  “There’s little we can do. They must be woken.”

  “Proceeding.” Barry’s hands flew over the control panels as the pods began cycling up. “Physio-stim systems increasing to eighty-five percent,” he noted as the crew’s muscles were gently triggered in a steady rhythm as they slowly emerged from cryogenic stasis.

  The pulsing action not only maintained muscle tone while asleep, but helped keep their bodies ready for situations such as these. Just enough stimulation as they slept to keep them fit and stave off atrophy.

  In a few experimental cases, the system had been used to build increased muscle mass in transit, but there were potential drawbacks, such as delayed-onset muscle soreness of epic proportions, often greatly hindering efficient performance of duties upon awakening. As such, the practice was largely avoided.

  “Calorics have increased to eighty-five percent.” He stepped back and looked at the crew of nine as the systems slowly shifted states, rousing them from their long sleep as the pods unsealed with a soft hiss.

  Daisy Swarthmore, the lean, twenty-five-year-old redheaded communications and electronics expert, was the first to wake, snapping to consciousness with a start.