About Tomorrow's Gambit
Written by Anah Crow
63 pages / 25500 words
ISBN: 1-934-70-7, 978-1-934166-70-3
Available file types - html, lit, pdf, prc
Somewhere in the not so distant future, soldier Carson and his second in command Luka are leading dangerous missions to wipe out threats to a
peaceful society. It's always been the two of them against the world, but as they start on their ultimate mission, things begin to unravel.
Uncovering a plot to keep their fellow soliders in line by any unhealthy means necessary, Carson and Luka have to make hard decisions about their platoon, their jobs, and their relationship. Can they survive in their hostile and dangerous world?
Review
CB Potts, author of the Rockhouds series, writes
I find myself in an unusual position here, considering Tomorrow’s Gambit by Anah Crow. This tale, this dark, haunting, bleak futuristic tale, replete with descriptions that put you in the moment and a ribbon of suspense and deceit that hangs heavy at the core, should be depressing.
But there’s an element there, manifested in Luka’s devotion to Carson -- a devotion that plays out in wholly unexpected ways -- that is doggedly hopeful. Shining optimism in the face of all reality is a particular favorite of mine, and Crow delivers in spades.
This is not light and fluffy reading. If you’re looking for mindless boinking or even good old boy loving, go somewhere else. But if you want an intense, passionate read, one that echoes some of the best speculative fiction I’ve read in a long time, pick this up. I’ve got to admit I’m not familiar with Crow’s work up until this point, but I’ll put this out here: If there’s going to be a breakout speculative fiction mass market m/m novel, it will come from their pen.
Sample
They camped in the empty shell of the old garbage incinerators above
the lake. The moon and stars shining in the broken skylights and the
glow of the fires they built on the concrete floor lit the space
enough to turn the dead machinery around them into the skeletons of
monsters. Outside, the trucks loaded with the bodies of the dead
waited for the rumbling furnaces to reach full heat.
Carson couldn't sleep. He wandered their tiny encampment to find it
all silent in the small hours of the morning, seven tents dark and
quiet, even the medical tent, where Mehrdad usually sat up late
reading. The tent he shared with Luka was dark. The two of them got
a tent to themselves instead of a four-man tent like the rest. It was
one of the perks of rank, only having to listen to one other guy snore
in your ear. Carson hadn't checked, but Luka was probably sound
asleep, sprawled on his belly and taking up more room than Carson and
both their kits together.
Having nowhere better to go, Carson climbed a long flight of rusting
stairs, and then another, to walk the catwalks high above the floor.
He found a small door at the far end of the building and let himself
out, pushing at it until the rusted hinges yielded and let him out
onto a wide landing. A fire escape, he realized. From here, he could
see the lake glittering under the moon; so vast that if he hadn't seen
a map before he might have thought it was the sea. The night was cool
and clear, the wind felt good on his aching head.
He sat down under the moon and stars and fished in his pocket for his
cigarettes, then lit one successfully after a few tries with the wind
tugging at him. Absently, he scratched at his shoulder where he'd had
his regular shot of serum. Out here, moving among the buildings of
the last world, there could still be viral agents from the pandemics,
or bacteria they'd never encountered. The shots kept them safe, kept
them going. They'd started burning a little lately, same time that
the headaches started. Carson exhaled smoke at the sky. It was just
as well that they were almost done; he was breaking down, getting old.
"Hey."
The gentle greeting nearly sent Carson down the stairs as he leapt to
his feet, whirled about, and stepped back into space. Luka grabbed
him by one flailing hand and pulled him back up onto the landing
before he could fall.