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LoveIndianaJonesbut wish it were set in space?
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Well, Amie Kaufman and Meagan SpoonersUnearthedhas you covered.
Unfortunately, Kaufman and Spooners book doesnt touch down in bookstores until early nextyear.
But dont worry, EW has you covered.
Disney-Hyperion
Unearthedhits bookstores on Jan. 9, 2018.
You canpreorder it here.
One of them is taller, bulky in the shoulders.
Hes around thirty or thirty-five, and easily twice my size.
No one will ever even see me down there.
Because if I were home, if I were scavenging a city on Earth, that would be true.
There arent even any plants on this lifeless world, no shrubs for cover or trees to hide in.
The scans scientists took from orbit didnt show so much as a microbe.
Theres just open desert on either side of the canyon, and Im screwed.
Like they dont get how lucky they are that theres wateronthis planet in the first place.
Its still the closest thing weve ever found to a habitable planet, besides Earth and Centauri.
And one of those is rapidly dying, the other far beyond the reach of our technology.
We only found Gaia because we followed the instructions left by ancient creatures long dead.
Ironic that the aliens called themselves that in the very broadcast describing the way they wiped themselves out.
I hold my breath, hoping that the scavengers dont look around while crouching to replenish their water.
I put it down because I wanted to see what was over this ridge.
The atmosphere heres got just a little more nitrogen than Earths.
And my breathermy lifelineis in the bag a meter or two from a pair of raiders.
If I dont get my stuff back, Im dead.
My mind scrambles for a solution.
Shes not going to bother getting me back through to Earth unless I can pay.
Ihaveto get that pack.
Tengo que hacer pis, says the man, making his partner groan and walk off a few steps.
Oh,forthe love ofvery nice, asshole.
Like youre the only ones on this planetwho mightve wanted to use that spring.
Ugh, protests the woman, echoing my sentiments exactly.
En serio, Hugo?
I never had to fight over turf.
I never had to run anyone off.
I never had to hold off two experienced and probably armed raiders while I retrieved my gear.
Esto pertenece al grupo?
A boot connects with fabric, and something hard beneath it.
Theyre kicking at my pack.
But thats not what makes my heart sink.
Because while I dont understand what theyre saying, I do know one of those words.
Some of the gangs in Chicago spoke Spanish.Grupomeans group.
These two arent here alone.
The woman jerks backward, half-stumbling in her surprise.
she blurts, hand going to her waist, where something in a holster glints in the light.
I just want my stuff, I say, deepening my voice until it makes my throat ache.
Maybe if they think Im just a short man, theyll think Im less of a target.
I point at the pack.
My stuff, I repeat, more loudly, glancing between them.
Who the hell are you?
Though he speaks with an accent, he tosses the English at me easily.Well, at least thatssomething.
Amelio, I shoot back.
Not exactly true, but close enough.
And Im here same reason you are.
Just give me my stuff and Ill be on my way.
The woman is recovering from her shock, and straightening as she comes to stand beside her cohort.
Shes in her mid-forties, Id guess, with a sun-weathered face.
The layer of dust coating her features lightens her skin by a few shadesthe dust splits as she grins.
Maybe we take your stuff, enjoy the extra O2, and you run back to Mama, kid.
I suck in a lungful of air, waiting until Im sure that frustration wont make my voice rise.
My mama isnt back for weeks, just like yours.
Give me my stuff.
Trespassings bad enough, you really want to add murder?
Youre not gonna shoot me.
Im one of Minks raiders.
Cross her and youll wake up dead once you get back to the station.
The man, whos easily a head and a half taller than I am, rubs at his chin.
Theres a few days worth of stubble there, and the movement rasps audibly through the dry air.
Nobody gonna find you here, he replies.
No body, no crime, eh?
Hugo, the woman breaks in, squinting at me.
No es nino, es nina.
Shit.I know enough Spanish to understand that.
So much for trying to look less like an easy mark.
Take off your helmet, the man orders.
My heart, slamming in my rib cage, takes over from my brain.
The guy takes a step forward, hand still lingering at his waist by his gun.
Take off your helmet or take off your shirt, your pick.
Instinct tries to make me reach for my knife, but I know itd be a death sentence.
Im outnumbered and outgunned.
They wont care that theyd be killing a minor.
I swallow hard, gritting my teeth.
And then a new voice breaks into the conversation.
Oh, thank goodness, I thought everyone might have left!
Academic, my mind sneers.
The IAdoesntevenhavethe surface open for research crews yet.
Hence us bad guys takingadvantageofthe empty space while weve got it.
He glances between the three of us, brow furrowing.
Where are the others?
he asks, the vowels elongated and theRs softened English or something, like someone on TV.
When he gets no reply, he tries again.
Wo sind alle?No?
He jumps from one language to another without skipping a beat.
Silence sweeps in to follow him, his smile dimming a few degrees in confusion.
It hangs in the air, thickening and thickening until finally the woman snaps.
Jules Thomas, he says, inclining his torso a little.
Hes bowing.Hesactuallybowing,whatthe hell?Its a pleasure to meet you all.
Jules stops short, smile fading and hand lowering.
And whatever he sees written on my facefear, exhaustion, general what-the-actual-hell-is-going- on panicmakes his smile vanish.
Oh, he says.
