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   The two of them, dressed in the bright yellow and rich brown uniform reserved for members of Finder Flight, turned into a passage marked “OBS DK & OFF LOUNGE.” A yellow bar below the sign warned, “High radiation levels inside lounge shield—tags are available at the bar.”

   Working asteroid Medevac required the nerve to stare death in the infinite depth of its eyes coupled to an unflinching will to survive—and a dedication tough to find anywhere in the SESC. Although she didn't look it, Dr. Marta Lavan had all that and much more. She served out there among the Belt mines for five years before signing up for the Finder mission and earned the Distinguished Service Stripe to prove it.

   Anyone seeing those bars of bright red stroked across her shoulderboards knew immediately that she was no virgin to the rigors of space, yet she had one weakness she couldn't shake. She responded to scenes like the one displayed in the huge ports lining the planet side of the lounge with a severe reaction that demanded the entire contents of her stomach be expelled instantly and violently without regard to where she was, or in whose company.

   Lead Officer Alexandra Guzman-Pax was well aware of the doctor's vertigo and took no offense when her junior officer charged in ahead of her. Lavan kept her eyes on the neutral gray carpet like a fastidious housemaid looking for lint, wobbling a little as she went, and secured a chair with its back to half a Jupiter slowly turning in three directions at once—four if you counted the imperceptible polar drift of the station.

   JS9 was set in a polar orbit that revolved axially once in the Jovian year, the polar drift, to keep the station out of the shadow of the planet. That motion was so slow it was not noticeable, but the axis of the station was pointed directly at the planet's center and the rotation of JS9 caused the planet to tumble in slow motion combined with the natural movement of Jupiter and the orbital swing of the station.

   Pax enjoyed it. There were times when she would sit in the lounge for hours, transfixed, fascinated with the beauty of it all. She slid out a chair and turned it so she could sit looking straight at the panorama and mused for a moment on how, from the station, Jupiter was always half planet, half ghost. The side in shadow glowed dully from its own energy, flashes of lightening giving it the look of deeply dark brown velvet with tiny diamonds sparkling on it. At JS9's tremendous distance from the planet the entire thing and most of its moons were visible, particularly the larger ones, which added greatly to Lavan’s problem. Lavan, on the other side of the table, kept her eyes fixed firmly on the non-reflective surfaces of the bar.

   The lighting in the lounge was diffused and cast almost no shadows on Lavan's girlish features. Pax could not help noticing that Lavan's turned up nose was still not quite a nose, like a small child’s it appeared to be developing into one but wasn’t quite there. Her deeply dimpled cheeks were lightly dusted with soft freckles and her eyes were large, watery blue, and dotted loosely with purple flecks. A silver strand here and there peeked from beneath her short-cropped golden red hair, doing little to lessen the little-girl effect.

   “Well, Marta, tomorrow we do it,” Pax said, motioning to a waiter who expertly ignored their entrance.

   “Huh? Oh...right...tomorrow,” Lavan responded while tracing little looping patterns with an unpainted fingernail on the glossy black table top.

   She never uses cosmetics...adds to that just-out-of-puberty look. One of these days I'm going to have to talk to her about that. How does she ever get anyone to take her seriously—or to bed, for heaven's sake?

   “Okay, what's troubling you, Marta?”

   “Nothing...and everything. I'm thinking about what we're getting ready to do. How wonderfully exciting it all is...and how dreadfully permanent. You know, just sorting through things one last time...before you pull the trigger.”

   That's novel. Like I’m holding a gun to all our heads...and I'm the one who has the pleasure of deciding when to pull the trigger. Great, Marta.

   “Mm-hmm, I know.” Sorting through things one more time. Permanent. “I'm going over a couple of hours early. You're welcome to accompany me, if you'd like. That way you can keep your eyes closed during the transfer. Where is that waiter?”

   “He ducked into the kitchen a minute ago. He'll be back. Why?”

   “Because I'm hungry, Marta.”

   “No, that's not what I meant. Why go over early?”

   “Oh, that.” Were her jitters as obvious as Lavan's? Pax tacked a note to her mental bulletin board to be a little more guarded in the future. “I need to check the Rammix set-up again, and I found some anomalous readings on the hydrogen injector section of the guide tube field generator yesterday. I also want to make a pre-launch rock...and I think it's going to be a long one.”

   “Where's the sense in that, Alex? The pre-launch crystal, I mean. We're not coming back...and no one is going to come get us. That’s what I was trying to tell you. This is a one-way trip, Alex.”

   Pax fixed her iron gray eyes on Lavan and deep furrows traveled across her forehead. She felt the hint of a tic coming, looked back to the half a Jupiter hanging in the ports and ran the heel of her right hand across her right eye.

   Lavan had a point and it struck at Pax's solar plexus like her mother's fist. There was no coming back for any of them...ever. Even the shorter Finder Flights were strictly a one-way proposition. Dreadfully permanent. And if anything went wrong? No rescue, no return. Why do you have to talk about these things, Marta?

   “I thought I'd make one for them,” she said and waved her hand in what she thought was the general direction of their destination. “Just in case.” Just in case we all die in stasis and the Rammix takes us in on automatic like it was programmed to do.

   “Uh-huh. That’s a truly noble gesture, Alex, and I’m sure they’ll appreciate it. That is, if anyone is home. Have you thought much about that? What if no one is there?”

   No, she hadn't thought about it. At least, she hadn't thought about it very much at the conscious level. It was presented as one of the possible mission worst case scenarios, and Whitaker went over all the various reasons it might be so in excruciatingly morbid detail...more than once. It just didn’t find a very high position on her list of concerns. Lavan had, with a simple statement, bounced it into the number one slot. That is, if anyone is home.

Review of SEEDS OF MEMORY by Margaret Marr: Nights and Weekends.com

On Nurusha—an island in the Great Southern Sea on the planet of Paz—Niki Kaznov’s village, Sochi, sank into the sea after huge earthquakes caused by Perigamia—a period when the planet Paz passes close to its star (Gamma One Volantis—the third brightest star in the constellation of Volans), Gamawun. The only one left alive, Niki ends up in New London, where he begins to have strange dreams about things that seem familiar. It's his time of Enlightenment. The ancient Fathers have a plan for him to take thousands and leave the planet Paz and establish life elsewhere. He just has to figure out what that plan might be.

With the help of a nosy reporter named Albo Shan, a love interest named Pasha Valdar, and the leader of a group called Twelve Points of Light, Niki gains access to a shuttle which has lain dormant for over two hundred years. This shuttle plus others are their ticket off Paz if they can outrun other groups, like the Paz Cadre and the Twelfth Generation, who are looking for the only direct-line Delta alive—which just happens to be Niki. In a time when children are planned through genetics and not allowed birth unless the right seed parents are mixed, Niki is considered the strongest and most precious specimen. Naturally, everyone wants him for their own purposes.

* * *

Elsewhere in the galaxy, a ship is on its way through space to find life out there somewhere and establish contact with them. Their journey has a direct bearing on the Enlightenment. It’s a mission with a purpose, though there are those who have doubts about it.

If you’re a sci-fi lover and you’re used to navigating your way through strange names for planets and objects, you’ll enjoy reading Seeds of Memory. Mr. Jacobs has certainly created a whole new world—one you can visualize, all the way down to its weather patterns—and a misguided villain who wants to be the supreme ruler of the planet.

I found, however, that there were too many characters to really get a feel for any of them. The most dynamic character, to me, was the reporter, Albo Shan. He wasn’t as mechanical as the others, and he seemed to have a bit of a personality all his own. I also liked Alexandra Guzman-Pax, another character who added color to the story.

Characters aside, though, Seeds of Memory is a well-written read. It’s worth checking out if you’re into science fiction that has a bit of a cold, clinical edge to it.

DIFFERENT UNUSUAL STRANGE POWERFUL WONDERFUL

SEEDS OF MEMORY is a book that catapults you into some of the wildest of worlds in the "what-if" zone that stretch the boundaries of imagination to the extreme limits and presents a picture of a future that is -- out of this world.

This is a multiple story involving several groups of people with different histories who are linked to one another through genetic engineering and manipulation, in divergent situations of tragic circumstance, social upheaval, triumph, survival, hate, love and science - all set on a sharp, polished cutting edge. Emotion-filled with all the things that drive us and our pernicious prejudices in a distant place where humanity, in all its guises, converges on a surprising climax that is, more than anything, the beginning of new worlds and a new "human variant".

Lead Officer Alexandra Guzman-Pax and Dr. Marta Lavan head up a mission to make contact with those who were sent out to colonize a planet a hundred thirty light-years away. Their mission is fraught with difficulties from the start and a frightening potential for failure always clouds the horizon. It is a one-way ticket from which there is no escape once the velocity point of no return is exceeded.

When they arrive at their target planet, they are faced with a mystery that defies any simple answers and is filled with surprises that try preconceived notions to the utter limit. When explanations do come, they are but a few steps away from a war inevitable and a long jump to another colonization in a different part of the galaxy.

This is hard science fiction told in a way that all who read it should be able to understand and enjoy. Fast-paced and complex, it is also a challenging read that will leave your imagination reeling and soaring at the same time. There will be sequels and a prequel to this book we are told, but it can't be said when that may be. It all depends on the author's surviving long enough to complete them.

Some comments from the author about this unforgettable book, SEEDS OF MEMORY.

My books tend to be...complex. But, then, life tends to be complex, doesn't it? How many life stories in the real world can be told with only two characters or a single plot line? Yours? Mine? No way. To cover as much scope as was required to tell this story was...challenging. There are many characters, plus several plot lines weaving in, out and throughout. You will encounter time lines that change from thirty thousand years in Earth's past to several thousand years into the future and several different stories that converge on a single point one hundred thirty light years from home. Making this trip was not simple, nor was it done frivolously. This is serious science fiction based on sound principles.

So, I give you fair warning. If your memory lasts just two seconds or less, or you have a tough time dealing with many names, time frames that move back and forth like rippling water in a disturbed pond, and multiple plot lines weaving in and out of one another like snakes in a pit, I suggest you forego trying to read SEEDS OF MEMORY. Now, before you go accusing me of having an 'attitude', let me be the first to say, 'Indeed, I do have an attitude, and part of that attitude is, if you can't swim, stay away from the deep end of the pool.'

Am I risking losing readers by telling you this? I suppose that could be, but I would rather like to think that I'm trying to avoid having a bunch of disgruntled readers sending me nasty notes and negative responses because they are unable to keep track of more than one thing at a time.