Dominant
Species Volume One – Natural Selection
by
David Coy
About
The Author:
I’ve
had a lifetime love of science fiction and horror. I suspect it
started in puberty since most obsessions do. My passion for it was so
strong as a penniless youth, I resorted to boosting copies of my
favorite authors’ works off the shelves of the book section of the
local Federal’s department store. My friends and I soon had a
collection of great sci-fi at discounted prices to read and read
again. But I’m not wholly without conscience about those shifty
activities as a scrawny youth. I’ll shake my head from side to side
and mumble “Crap, that was stupid” once ever decade or so. But
that’s about it.
I
consider myself a sci-fi film Nazi. I’m sure I’ve seen every
sci-fi movie ever made – certainly the vast majority of them. I
can’t pass up even the worst of it. All those god-awful, black and
white B flicks of the 40’s onward, with their outrageous and
ham-handed themes of science vs. ignorance and good vs. evil, wrapped
in whatever pseudo-scientific covering was popular that year,
transfixed me, entertained me, and like the works pinched then
stashed in my friend’s basement, made me think. When pivotal films
like “Alien” and John Carpenter’s “The Thing” elevated
sci-fi film up out of the gutter with all those glorious and
expensive production values, I was im himmel.
I attended Wayne
State University in Detroit, Michigan. Like so many of my peers at
the time, I left Wayne State with an utterly useless BA with a major
in psychology. I’ve cleaned tractor cranes for money and worked as
a steel mill laborer when the last one of those plants in Michigan
still existed. I’ve worked as a night janitor. I moved to southern
California when I was 30 years old and sold cars for a while. Shortly
thereafter I worked for what used to be called the Hughes Aircraft
Company as an in-house photographer. For the last 10 years of my
work-a-day life I worked as a senior project manager for Computer
Sciences Corporation. I now live in Oregon where I started and
recently sold a fitness gym. I relate this choppy history to drive
home my favorite maxim relating to life and the living of it: you
never know where in the fuck you’ll end up. You’ll find my books
laced through with that persistent theme. I hope you find the journey
of reading them, should you attempt it, if not straight and linear,
at least interesting.
Book Genre
Science Fiction /
Sci-Fi Horror
Publisher
David Coy
Publication Date
Digital editions –
June 2012
Purchase
At Amazon:
Book
Description:
Imagine an alien
science where tissue, bone, nerves, and muscle are used like we use
iron, wood, rubber and wire. Now imagine yourself held captive with
hundreds of others by beings who wield this grisly technology as
easily as we do hammer and saw; beings whose lineage can be traced
through the morally hollow, parasitic branches of nature's
evolutionary tree. What would you do to survive? Would you re-draw
the boundaries of your own morality to stay alive? What would you
compromise? How might you escape? This is the context of
NaturalSelection, the first of three volumes of the Dominant Species
series of books. What distinguishes Dominant Species from other
stories in its genre is its visceral imagery and more importantly,
its rich subtext. The story can appeal to those fascinated and drawn
to horror and strong drama, and at the same time will fascinate those
who can tune into its broader message about our relationship to the
natural world. Taken as a whole, the series is a puzzle linked
together with genetic threads that unravel like a double helix.
Viewers intrigued by mystery and dramatic puzzles will find a
fascinating playground for guesswork, thought and discussion.
The first volume
sets the stage for the ongoing conflict between Homo sapiens and a
visiting alien race. Like all successful serial drama, the story
poses many questions to be answered, each one carefully laced into a
central theme about human survival, the action driven by antagonists
both alien and human.
The story is
character driven, each character fully developed and rich, providing
the colorful characterization required by serial drama. Central to
the first volume is teacher Phil Lynch.
The story starts as
a peaceful visit to his weekend getaway in the Sierra foothills.
Hours later he finds himself living an unthinkable nightmare.
Paralyzed and taken prisoner, his body is used as an unwilling host
in a bizarre and grisly series of parasitic infections. On board the
alien vessel within which he is imprisoned are more than a hundred
other humans – and like Phil – just as confused and terrified –
their bodies subject to unfathomable violence for a dark and
malevolent purpose. As the terrible truth about the alien visitation
unfolds, a small group of captives must first understand – and then
fight for escape from the terror that holds them captive. That
struggle will stretch razor-thin the limits of the human will to
survive.
There is strong
language in the story because humans under stress often use such
language. There are no puppy love or adolescent motifs of intimacy in
the story. Instead there are very many mature, psychosexual themes
that run through all three books. Some are represented symbolically,
others described explicitly. There is violence. The story is not
PG-13.
The story is a human
drama that will be appreciated by most adult demographics. It is
strong, unflinching theater played through characters who repulse us,
fascinate us, and often, appeal to our better natures; ones who
continually remind us of our human strengths—and weaknesses.
Excerpt
Mary
listened to the droning sound that came to her through the wet air
and thought of her mother’s soft humming. She wanted her mother to
be there now, to hold her and hum softly to her, to soothe her. She
drifted toward her mother’s round arms and warm smile on the
ghostly crest of that ugly sound.
Then
the dread came. It crashed over her like a cold, brown wave and the
memories of her mother’s soft touch were washed away. She was in
the big chamber. The big chamber was where the droning sound was. The
droning was the collective sound from others just like her, others
not asleep yet not awake; others unable to move their limbs.
She
could turn and lift her head and see and hear and smell. She could
not talk, but she could make a deep sound, a groan, if she tried.
When the pain came, the groan would be its outlet. The groan would be
the dull steam her violated body would vent in its outrage.
She
prayed for a miracle. She prayed that when she opened her eyes she
would see big, blue sky and bright light. She pressed her eyes closed
and prayed hard but when she looked, only the chamber’s ceiling
filled her vision. Its black, bubbly surface gave substance to the
dread and when the cutting began, the ceiling’s gloom would stamp
its dark print on her soul once more.
Mary
turned her head slowly and saw the naked body of a young woman. Then
she breathed the warm scent of perfume. The woman was new and a
splash of luscious scent had been captured with her. The woman looked
at Mary, her face slack with paralysis. Mary could not speak, but if
she could have spo#ken the result would have been the same. There was
nothing to say to this newcomer, no consolation to be offered. There
was no comfort where none could exist.
Then
her surgeon witch was there, its long head hovering, twisting and
looking. Its thin, quick hands moved like rats over her body, feeling
here and there with spiderlike squeezes. For the moment, her body was
numb to the creature’s touch and she was thankful for it.
There
was a motion under her skin, in her neck, deep in the muscles. It was
a roiling little pressure she’d grown to know quite well. A grub
was moving, and from the feel of it she thought it was moving
upwards. As the larvae fed on her tissues, it caused a single sharp
note of pain that grew in volume second by unmerciful second. She
heard the high-pitched hiss of the witch’s cutter and was relieved
that the cutting was starting.
Mary
began her retreat from the sound and the growing bite of the cutter
and of the pain of the worm and joined her voice with the others.
