Planet B

Book 1: Architects of the Apocalypse

by Jasper T. Scott, Christian Bentulan, Aaron Sikes

Genres: Alien Contact; Alien Invasion; Genetic Engineering

Synopsis

FROM MILLION-COPY BESTSELLER JASPER T. SCOTT
2069: EARTH IS DYING AND SOCIETY IS ON THE BRINK OF COLLAPSE
We are out of time to save the planet. All that’s left is to watch the world burn, but the apocalypse is about to take an unexpected twist.

Alice Rice has discovered the impossible: a potentially habitable world in close proximity to Earth. The media is calling it Planet B.

PEOPLE ARE DISAPPEARING
Detective Layla Bester was about to marry the love of her life when she learned that he slept with her best friend. Now, she’s alone and starting over in the once great city of New York. But the world has more than enough troubles to make hers feel small, and a new one has just been added: people are vanishing, and no one knows where they’re being taken.

AND A WAR IS BREWING
Meanwhile, Billionaire Preston Baylor is leading the race to reach Planet B, but competing space programs are heating up political tensions and driving superpowers ever closer to war.

Climatologist Bruce Gordon believes an incomprehensibly powerful species sent Planet B to us, but who are our mysterious saviors, why are they hiding, and what do they want? As time goes by, it becomes clear that even if their intentions were good, our own self-destructive natures could be all it takes to wipe us out.

Planet B is an apocalyptic thriller by million-copy bestseller, Jasper T. Scott. If you liked Under the Dome by Stephen King, or Maze Runner by James Dashner, then this book is for you.

 

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Release date: June 7, 2022

Publisher: Anthem Press

Print pages: 310

Sample

PART ONE: INTERVENTION

Scott / PLANET B / 3

Chapter 1

September 22nd, 2069 AD
Alice Rice stood up from her telescope and shifted her
weight for a better stance, listening to the old boards of the
deck creak beneath her feet.
“I wanna see!” her nine-year-old son, Sean, said pressing
in eagerly beside her.
“Patience,” Alice replied. She bent forward again and
made small adjustments to the focus, marveling at the hazy
white band that gave the galaxy its name. A warm breeze
blew, carrying with it the fresh, loamy smells of the forest.
The trilling of frogs and the chirping of crickets filled her
ears. To her, the woods of Maine in the summer were pure
bliss. Going camping there with her husband and son was as
close to paradise as Alice had ever found on Earth—not that
I’ve ever been anywhere else, she amended with a wry smile.
But her imagination was fertile ground for more exotic
paradises to flourish. As an astronomer, she spent most of
her time thinking about what else could be out there. With
the sheer number of stars and exoplanets that orbited them,
the existence of places more idyllic and habitable than Earth
was practically a given. And yet, alien life still hadn’t been
discovered. Or discovered us, she thought.
“Can I see?” Sean asked, bouncing on his toes.

Scott / PLANET B / 4

“Hang on. It’s almost ready.”
“You said that ten minutes ago...”
Alice made a final adjustment and then withdrew from
the eyepiece to regard her son. Nine years old and already
looking like a little man. Where had the time gone? It felt like
she’d blinked and the swaddled bundle nursing in her arms
had become this lanky man-child standing before her. He had
his father’s brown eyes, but her oval face, button nose, and
blond hair. “Go on, take a look,” Alice said.
Sean took a quick step forward.
“Careful,” she chided. “Don’t bump it.”
“I won’t. Wow... what is that?”
“That’s our galaxy, the Milky Way. Stars and dust
thousands of light years away from us.”
“Wow,” Sean said again.
The screen door of the cabin creaked open and her
husband, Liam, stepped out. “Am I too late?” he whispered,
his eyes gleaming darkly in the starlight. He had two wine
glasses in one hand, and an open bottle of Merlot in the
other.
“Right on time,” Alice said, smiling as he eased the door
shut.
Alice looked back to her son, watching with a growing
smile as he marveled at the stars. It reminded her keenly of
her own childhood, growing up in rural Maine with her
friends, and her grandfather, who had introduced her to her
first telescope.
“Here you are,” Liam whispered, handing her a glass.
Alice raised it for a sip. Smooth and red. Not too dry, not too
sweet. Definitely a Merlot. Liam’s arm slid around her waist,
pulling her close, and the two of them stood by the wooden
railing, watching as their son gawked at the staggering beauty
of the universe. Out here, in Baxter State Park, far from the

Scott / PLANET B / 5
light pollution of the cities, the sky was crowded with jewels.
Alice admired them wonderingly as she sipped her wine.
Sean withdrew from the telescope. “What else can we
see?”
Before she could answer, a bright flare of light appeared,
dazzling her eyes.
“What was that?” Sean erupted.
Alice recovered with a frown. “Probably just a meteor...”
But the flare was still shining brightly, gradually shrinking
down to an oversized point of light at least as bright as
Venus.
“Is it going to hit us?” Sean asked.
“It’s not burning up, or is it?” Liam asked.
“I don’t...” Alice hurriedly set her glass down on the
railing. She used the finderscope to line up the object before
peering through the eyepiece and bringing it into focus.
“What is it?” Liam whispered breathlessly.
For a long moment, Alice couldn’t speak. She wasn’t
sure what she was looking at, and then when she realized
what it must be, she still couldn’t frame her thoughts into a
coherent sentence, because what she was seeing didn’t make
any sense.
“Alice?” Liam pressed.
“It’s... a planet,” she finally said.
“A planet? Which one?” Liam asked, stepping closer to
the telescope.
“I don’t—I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe it’s Venus?
Or...” But she knew that was wrong. She could clearly see
Venus as she pulled away from the telescope. It was hanging
low in the western sky. This object was a bright, greenish-blue
orb. No planet in the solar system looked like that with an
optical telescope. Nor would any asteroids. She needed to get
a closer look.
“Mom? What’s wrong?” Sean asked.

Scott / PLANET B / 6

“Nothing, sweetheart.”
Whirling away, Alice almost knocked the tripod over in
her hurry to reach for the bag of eyepieces sitting on the
porch beside her. She stooped down and withdrew her
phone, using the light of the screen to rifle through the bag
for the right focal length. She picked the four millimeter one
and a three times Barlow lens to increase the zoom to four
hundred and fifty times. Her hands shook as she hurriedly
changed the eyepieces. Alice glanced up periodically to check
that the object was still there.
It was impossible to miss, even with the naked eye.
Shining with a steady greenish-blue light, it was far bigger and
brighter than Venus.
Bending to look through the telescope once more, Alice
stared at the blurry green-blue orb and played with the focus
wheel to sharpen the image. Her heart thumped hard in her
ears, so loud that it drowned out the chirping of the frogs and
crickets.
Her heart rate spiked sharply as the image cleared. It was
definitely a planet. A planet with the white swirls of clouds,
the freckled blues of lakes, and bright, verdant greens
everywhere else.
“This is impossible,” she breathed.
“What is?” Liam asked, sounding almost annoyed from
the suspense.
Alice stepped back on trembling legs, and gestured
helplessly to the telescope. Liam set his wine glass down
beside hers and looked into the eyepiece. A sharp gasp tore
from his lips. “What on Earth?” he gasped.
“Looks a bit like Earth,” Alice replied. “Greener,
though.”
Sean wrapped his arms around his mother’s waist in a
fierce hug. He might not know how to say it anymore, but he
was scared.

Scott / PLANET B / 7
Alice laid a hand on his head, her fingers stroking
absently through his hair. Liam turned from the view to look
at her with wide, gleaming eyes.
“This must be some kind of mistake. Maybe there’s
something stuck to the lens?”
Alice snorted and gestured to the new star in the sky.
Except that it wasn’t a star at all. “It’s right there. You don’t
need the telescope to see it.”
“Right...” Liam trailed off, quietly gaping at the sight.
“But planets don’t just appear out of nowhere, Alice! There
has to be some explanation. You’re the astronomer. What is
this?”
Alice slowly shook her head. “That flash of light we saw.
Maybe it was a star going nova, and this blue-green orb is the
expanding cloud of gas that it left in its wake?”
Liam hesitated. “You think so?”
But even that explanation fell short. The image was too
sharp. Too clear. A blurry blue-green smudge of gasses could
be explained away like that, but not this: an opaque, sharply
defined sphere with clouds could only be one thing.
Her next best explanation was that this was a dream and
she was fast asleep inside the cabin after staying up too late
and drinking too much wine with Liam.
“I need to get back to New York,” she said.
“I’ll start packing,” Liam added, retrieving their glasses in
one hand and heading for the door.
“Good idea,” Alice replied.
“But we just got here!” Sean complained. The screen
door banged shut after Liam as he stumbled inside.
“Go with your father. Hurry,” she said, prying her son’s
arms away from her waist.
“Are we in danger?” Sean asked, looking back at her as
he went. A light flicked on inside the cabin as Liam started
packing.

Scott / PLANET B / 8
“No. I don’t think so. But this is an emergency.” And
that was really something for an astronomer to say.
“Okay.” Sean hurried inside, and Alice spun back around
to look at the glowing light in the sky. Still shining steadily.
She’d half-expected it to have vanished just as mysteriously as
it had appeared.
She had to get back to her lab in NYU. But first, she had
to find out more about what was going on. Alice thumbed
her phone to life and said, “Call Julio Acosta.”
“Calling Dr. Julio Acosta,” a pleasant robotic voice
replied.
By now thousands of people in the western hemisphere
had already seen the same thing, and with countless
observatories and high-powered telescopes on this side of the
globe, surely someone already knew more about this than she
did.
Her mind was bursting with questions as the phone rang.
How far away was that planet? Where had it come from? Was
it in a stable orbit around the sun, or just passing through?
What was that flash of light that had preceded it, and why
was it green?

Scott / PLANET B / 9

Chapter 2

6:00 AM, September 25th
An incessant buzzing noise pierced Layla Bester’s
awareness, like a jackhammer. She swatted at the air, then felt
her smart watch vibrating against her wrist.
“Alarm off!”
The lights swelled gradually until they reached half their
normal brightness. “Good morning, Layla,” a pleasant female
voice said. “It is six AM. Your coffee is waiting for you
downstairs in the kitchen.”
“Thank you, Alexa.”
Layla didn’t get up right away. She lay there, staring at
the ceiling barely four feet above her head. That reminded her
of times gone by, of sleeping in her parents’ RV when they’d
gone camping in Vermont. At first she’d thought it would be
cozy and nostalgic. Now she wasn’t so sure. It was one thing
not having a lot of space when you had the great outdoors
right outside. Then again, she supposed that New York City
was a certain kind of outdoors.
And rentals in Brooklyn Heights weren’t cheap. She’d
jumped at the chance to lease a brand-new ten by ten smart
loft in the Acropolis, one of the city’s newest and most secure
apartment buildings. But tiny living was a big adjustment,
even now that she was on her own again. Neil and Jess had

Scott / PLANET B / 10
seen to that. Damn them both. A knot rose in Layla’s throat,
and her eyes burned, but she refused to cry another tear over
it.
She should have been on her honeymoon right now,
sitting on a beach in the Caribbean, sipping cocktails. Instead,
she was going back to work two weeks early.
It never ceased to amaze Layla how many U-turns life
took. Seven years ago she’d met Neil in jail—she, the
arresting officer, he, the perp’s lawyer—and now she was
right back where she’d started: a single cop working the
streets of New York. They’d had so many other plans. She
was going to resign. Take a year off, then settle down and
start a family.
Thank God she hadn’t resigned.
Smelling the pot of coffee downstairs, Layla crawled out
of bed—literally crawled—and made her way down the
ladder to the first floor. She poured a cup of the dark brew,
and walked two steps from the kitchen to sit in the mini
loveseat by the apartment’s only window. The glass was
currently dark and opaque, set to its tinted privacy mode.
“Window clear,” Layla said, and watched a dizzying
urban sprawl fade into focus as she sipped from her mug.
The coffee was black and bitter, and it burned her tongue,
but it poked a welcome hole in her fog of sleep and navel-
gazing, so she took another sip.
Her AR glasses were on the table, right where she’d left
them the night before. Layla slipped them on, and said,
“Alexa, play the news.”
“Playing NYCN.”
The glasses overlaid a feed of a pretty blonde-haired
news anchor sitting behind a desk in the top right of her field
of view.
“Nassau county protests continued late into the night
with residents chanting—” The scene cut to protesters

Scott / PLANET B / 11
thrusting both physical and virtual signs in the air like
pitchforks and shouting, “—Build Nassau a wall! Build
Nassau a wall!”
The feed cut back to the news anchor. “Mayor Lacy
Durham had this to say in a statement to the press—”
Mayor Durham appeared behind a lectern, bombarded
by flashing lights. “Rising sea levels are a concern for
everyone, but sea walls are not a magic bullet, and they are
prone to catastrophic failures. Our current relocation policies
and incentives to move residents away from the coastal areas
are both cheaper and—”
“Pause,” Layla said. The mayor’s face froze in a
contorted expression, dragging a crooked smile from Layla’s
lips. “Minimize.” The window disappeared from her glasses.
Layla settled deeper into her seat, pulling her feet up to sit
sideways and watch out the window as air and ground traffic
crowded a dreary canyon of skyscrapers: crimson ribbons on
one side, white the other. The sun was just coming up,
casting all of it in a rosy light and illuminating the solid gray
wall at the end which kept the rising sea levels from
swallowing Brooklyn Bridge Park. Growing bored with the
view, Layla said, “Alexa, read me national headlines about the
climate crisis.”
“Okay...
“California Experiencing Worst Fire Season in State’s
History.
“Worsening Drought Pushes Bread and Produce Prices
To Record Highs.
“Cattle Dying From Texas to Montana as Heat Wave
Continues.
“Red Tide Thickens.
“Hurricane Hanson Promoted to Category Five.
“Hanson to Make Landfall in Less Than 48 Hours.
“Lousiana Evacuations Slowed by End Times Protesters.

Scott / PLANET B / 12
“A New Planet, a New Hope? Astronomers Cry Wolf.”
“Stop,” Layla said. “Read article from last headline.”
“Okay... Doctors Alice Rice and Julio Acosta of NYU
claim to have discovered, and confirmed, the existence of
what some are calling Planet B. A newly discovered exoplanet
that’s a near analog of Earth and seemingly even closer to us
than Mars. Yet Doctor Rice cautions, Planets don’t suddenly
appear out of nowhere, adding that the data has yet to be peer-
reviewed, and that we shouldn’t jump to any conclusions until
we know more. Just three days ago, I was stargazing with my son in
Maine when I saw it appear with a flash of light, Alice recalls.
Countless observers from around the country all saw the
same thing. With theories for the planet’s inexplicable
appearance ranging from the apocalyptic to the divine.”
“Stop.” Layla frowned, wondering if she could trust any
of what she’d just heard. Maybe Alexa had lost her mind
again, and this article had been pulled from a gag feed. It had
to be a joke. “What’s the source of that article?”
“The source is NYU News.”
Layla blinked and slowly shook her head. They must
have gotten the numbers wrong. Bad math. A rounding error.
Something.
Her watch and glasses vibrated, and a caller ID appeared
on both, along with an attractive head shot of the caller; thick
black hair, a strong chin, a black suit, and a checked blue tie
to match his eyes. Neil Forester.
Layla scowled, and debated rejecting the call.
“Answer.”
A vid-feed of Neil appeared on her glasses, faithfully
reconstructed as a digital avatar of himself that was nearly
indistinguishable from the original. Sensors and cameras in
his AR glasses and watch tracked his movements and facial
expressions.

Scott / PLANET B / 13
“You look like you just woke up,” Neil said, leaning back
and sipping a fancy cappuccino from Kelly’s behind his big
cherry-wood desk, his back turned to an impressive view of
Manhattan.
“And you look like you haven’t gone to sleep,” Layla
countered, noting his bloodshot eyes and the wrinkles in his
suit and tie.
“The Marino case had me pulling an all-nighter. Listen,
Jess, I—”
Layla’s blood pressure spiked, and her pulse thundered
in her ears.
“Shit. Sorry.” He set his cappuccino down and rubbed
his eyes. “I meant to say Layla. I’ve been thinking about that
whole love triangle of ours. Jess must have been on my
mind.”
Layla smiled tightly. “What’s this about, Neil?”
“I hate how things ended,” he said.
A muscle jerked in Layla’s cheek. “You slept with my
best friend. How the fuck did you think it was going to end?”
“It was a long time ago,” Neil argued. “We’d just started
dating, and we’d never really said if were exclusive.”
“We’d been dating for five months! Exclusivity was
implied. And Jess said you tried to hook up with her again
after that. She was the one who turned you down.”
“Look. I know I messed up. But I can do better, Layla.
Just don’t do this. We had so many plans! New Jersey. Three
kids. Hell, we even had names picked out for our dogs!”
“If it makes you feel better, even if Jess hadn’t told me, it
would have ended the same way when you found some other
slut to sleep with.”
“Layla, seriously? She’s your best friend.”
“Not anymore.”
“You weren’t even friends with her when we slept
together. You met Jess through me!”

Scott / PLANET B / 14
“Just think about how fucked up that is, Neil. You
introduced me to your lover.”
“One time. It was one time. One stupid, drunken night.”
“With intent to repeat. You’re not marriage material,
Neil. Face it.”
He scowled at her. “If that’s how you feel, then you
should at least give the ring back.”
Layla’s mind spun. “Is that why you’re calling?”
“It was thirty-five thousand credits! If you want to talk
things over and think about it some more, I’ve got no
problem with you keeping it. But if you’ve already made up
your mind, then that ring doesn’t belong on your finger.”
“Fuck you, Neil.” Layla made a swiping gesture, ending
the call. She got up and crossed to her closet to get dressed.
Thanks to him, she was about to arrive late to the precinct.
Not the best precedent to set for her first day back on the
job.

Scott / PLANET B / 15

Chapter 3

9:00 AM

“Make a line! Hands where I can see them!”
Tom Smith stood behind the other inmates from C
Block, waiting to get out into the yard.
We’re like dogs to them, Tom thought. He eyed the fat,
curly-haired prison guard, Murphy, as he strolled by, wagging
his finger at each of them as he made a head count. They feed
us, walk us, tell us when to sit, when to lie down...
He caught a backward glance from one of the other
prisoners—Fango Morales, or Solo, as he was nicknamed
thanks to his obsession with Star Wars. Tom smiled thinly at
him and lifted his chin, as if he had something special
planned for their yard time. He didn’t. But that didn’t mean
he couldn’t front like he did. Can’t show weakness in prison,
and this one was maximum security, so head cases like Fango
were everywhere. You don’t get into Sing Sing for white collar shit.
Fango smiled back, flashing a golden tooth. Fango had it
out for him ever since he’d arrived. Tom remembered getting
cornered by Fango and a pair of his buddies, because, as
they’d put it: they were going to make him their black bitch.
Tom had beaten them all within an inch of their lives in thirty
seconds flat, with nothing but a few bruises for his
trouble—but he’d also received six days in the hole. When he

Scott / PLANET B / 16
got out, he’d received three months free membership with
the Bruthas. Of course, Fango had never forgiven him for
that humiliation.
“All accounted for,” Tom heard Murphy report to Chief
Hanes.
“Let’s go, people!” Hanes bellowed. “Sixty minutes,
starting now.”
Everyone filed out into the sunny blue-sky morning.
Tom took a deep breath of summer and listened to the sweet
melody of birds chirping. His eyes drifted shut and he sighed.
Freedom. That’s what it felt like. A fleeting taste that elicited
faded memories of lying in the summer sun on a creaky
wooden dock, of trees rustling, and swimming in the lake at
his grandfather’s farm. That was before his old man got
locked up for dealing. Before his momma had to take two
jobs in the city just to put food on the table.
Years later, he’d done the same to put himself through
school, eventually getting his masters in paleontology. And
that was where he’d met his late wife, Tamara. Tom winced
as her smiling face flickered through his mind: sparkling
brown eyes and smooth ebony skin wrapped in sheets and
beams of sunlight.
It almost didn’t matter anymore that she’d been
unfaithful. Could he even blame her after he’d spent six
months away on a dig in Australia? The other side of the
world, and thanks to the time zones they’d barely even had
time to call or chat. What he wouldn’t have given just to see
her happy. But life had darker plans for her. For both of
them.
Tom’s eyes cracked open to see everyone splitting off
into their usual groups. Gangs by any other name. And they
were defined exclusively by the color of the inmates’ skins.
Does that mean we’re all just as racist as Fango? Tom
wondered as he followed the rest of the African-American

Scott / PLANET B / 17
inmates to their side of the yard where they promptly began
spinning laps.
Most walked in silence, while a few quietly traded intel
and stories about other inmates and the guards. Tom drifted
to the back of the group, wanting some alone time. When
you’re caged in close quarters with a thousand plus smelly,
noisy, disagreeable assholes, you begin to appreciate whatever
solitude you get. Tom threw his head back as he walked,
taking in the vast blue wonder of open sky.
Walls, walls—everywhere but up. God, why didn’t you give me
wings?
Tom’s gaze came back down to see that he was catching
shade from Fango and the rest of La Familia, or the Fammies
as the Bruthas liked to call them. Maybe Tom didn’t have
anything planned, but Fango and his buddies looked like they
did.
Ordinarily, Fammies knew better than to pick a fight
with him. The Bruthas were the biggest, meanest gang in Sing
Sing. But as it happened, Tom was overdue on his
membership fees. Some prisoners got money regularly
deposited to their accounts by family or friends on the
outside. Tom was one of those lucky few, still financed by his
momma after ten years. She might just be the only one left in
the world who still believed he was innocent.
But getting money was a double-edged sword. Those
who had it were obliged to share, or else they were on their
own. Tom was supposed to keep half of anything he got for
the Brutha’s leader, Roach, to administer. But he’d secretly
been saving up, holding out how much money he really had,
and last month he’d made the mistake of splurging to buy
himself a new pair of kicks from the commissary.
Feeling suddenly vulnerable, Tom picked up his pace,
getting closer to the Bruthas walking ahead of him. As he
spun his second lap, he noticed that the Fammies were right

Scott / PLANET B / 18
behind them, with Fango in the lead. The man flashed
another golden-toothed smile. Tom frowned and looked back
to the fore. Big Boy and Hazer glanced back at him, the latter
looking apologetic—and then, as if it had all been
choreographed ahead of time, the Bruthas peeled off, heading
for the shade of the trees at the far end of the yard. A group
of Fammies went jogging past Tom, forcing him to stop and
back up against the fence to avoid being blindsided by one of
them. They encircled him in such a casual way that it looked
almost as though they’d adopted him as one of their own.
Fango melted out of their ranks, grinning darkly at him
and cracking his knuckles. He was big for a Fammy. Bald and
six-foot-nothing with more tats than skin. He was built thick
across the chest and shoulders, with just enough fat on him
that he could throw his weight around. By contrast, Tom was
lean and ripped, and probably a good twenty pounds lighter
despite being two or three inches taller. “Looks like it’s just
you and me now, Romeo,” Fango said.
That was Tom’s nickname. He’d earned it when people
found out that he’d been locked up for supposedly killing his
wife and her lover.
Tom glanced behind him, checking for the nearest guard
tower. The Fammies were standing too close, so it wouldn’t
be easy to pick him out from that tower. By the time they
realized something was up, it would be too late.
But there was one silver lining: only Fango was coming
at him. The others were just standing around, blocking sight
lines from the guards.
Tom rolled his head and shoulders, then put up his fists.
“Let’s see what you got, Fammy.”
Fango’s grin vanished, and he produced a metal shank
from his sleeve.
Where the hell did he get that? Tom wondered. It looked like
a piece of scrap metal.

Scott / PLANET B / 19
Fango closed the gap between them in two quick strides.
Tom saw an opening, and took a swing. Fango ducked and
jabbed with the shank. But Tom caught his arm and deflected
the attack. He made a play for the weapon, but Fango danced
back out of reach, withdrawing sharply and slicing Tom’s
palm open before he could get a good grip.
Tom hissed between his teeth, feeling that side of his
hand growing hot and numb. He checked the injury briefly.
Deep enough that he’d need stitches.
“You’re gonna pay for that,” Tom gritted out, dripping
blood into the scrappy grass and dirt.
Fango said nothing. He came in slashing in broad strokes
with the shank. Tom evaded each swipe of the blade, ducking
and backpedaling—until he ran into some of the other
Fammies—getting kicked in the ass and the small of his back.
He went down hard, landing hard on his hands and
knees and stirring up a cloud of dust. He saw the shank
gleaming in the sun, and the hateful sneer on Fango’s face as
the blade swept toward his throat. He threw up his hands, but
it was too late.
Tom cried out in terror, realizing that this was it. He felt
someone pushing or pulling him back, and Fango stopped
suddenly, blinking in confusion as the blade flew out of his
hand.
Then a flash of light erupted between them, dazzling
Tom’s eyes.

* * *

--:-- AM/PM, September --
Tom blinked his eyes open to find himself staring up at
the sky. Bright and blue and filled with scudding clouds. What

Scott / PLANET B / 20
the... had the guards used some kind of new crowd control
weapon on them?
Tom sat up quickly, ready to fend off a fresh attack in
case Fango had already recovered.
Fango was sitting up across from him. They were lying in
a field of tall, bright green grass, with no sign of walls, fences,
guards, or any other inmates.
Tom’s jaw dropped.
Fango’s did, too.
They weren’t in Sing Sing anymore.
Their eyes met across a gap of maybe ten feet.
“Que chingada?” Fango muttered.
Tom didn’t know exactly what that meant, but it he
could guess. “What the fuck, is right...”
Fango jumped to his feet, aiming his shank like an
extension of his finger. “What did you do?”
“Me?” Tom roared, indignant.
“Am I dead? Did you kill me, you little bitch?”
“You’re the one holding the knife,” Tom pointed out.
“Maybe you killed me.” That was a disturbing thought. Was
this heaven? Wonder and hope swirled together, filling Tom’s
chest with a breath of the sweetest air he’d ever tasted,
fragrant with a woody, citrus smell—like oak and lemongrass.
Fango’s eyes darted away, bugging out of his head as he
gawked at their surroundings. The field was surrounded by
tall trees on all sides, but sprawled down to a sparkling blue
lake to Tom’s left. The far side of the lake swept up into
towering, snow-capped mountains.
The air felt colder than it had a moment ago. Not too
cold, but definitely colder. Birds were still chirping, but they
didn’t sound familiar, with whooping cries and trilling calls
that echoed in fading swells. An animal that sounded like it
had swallowed a pipe organ—deep and rumbling—roared
from the trees. Tom found his gaze glued to that forest,

Scott / PLANET B / 21
listening to the groaning bellows of the creature. A bear? The
trees began to shiver and shake in time to thudding footsteps.
“What is that?” Fango whispered.
“What makes you think I know?” Tom countered.
The jury was out on whether or not he’d woken up in
heaven, but this definitely wasn’t New York.
And those trees looked strange. But what was it about
them? Too tall? Too green? Almost like a jungle, except there
weren’t any jungles in America. At least, not on the mainland.
The thunder of those heavy footfalls grew progressively
closer. Whatever was in there, it was headed their way.
“We’d better get out of here,” Tom muttered.
Fango led the charge, running in the opposite direction
from the trees, up a grassy hill. Tom hesitated briefly before
tearing after him. They might have been enemies in prison,
but out here, with God-knows-what chasing after them, they
stood a better chance together than alone. If nothing else, that
bear will have someone else to eat while I get away, Tom thought
grimly.

Scott / PLANET B / 22

Chapter 4

12:32 PM, September 25th
Preston Baylor sat in his penthouse overlooking Central
Park, sipping a cappuccino and watching the news on his AR
glasses. Every feed ran the same story, which lent credence to
an otherwise impossible tale.
A new planet had been found, and it lay even closer to
Earth than Mars.
There was simply no way that could be true. He of all
people would know. As CEO and founder of the Space
Development Group (SDG), he knew more about the solar
system than practically anyone else. Local space had been
mapped thousands of times by hundreds of different
telescopes, and he’d personally sent missions to half a dozen
planets and moons, along with a few mining and prospecting
runs to the belt. SDG had been instrumental in establishing
the Mars Colony, and they’d been sending annual resupply
missions ever since.
With all of that activity and attention on their cosmic
backyard, the thought that an entire planet could have been
hiding in plain sight was simply impossible.
But that didn’t preclude other possibilities. What he
needed was a look at the data coming back from the
telescopes now aimed at this so-called Planet B.

Scott / PLANET B / 23

“Alexa, call Alice Rice from NYU.”
“You do not have an Alice Rice in your contact list.
Would you like me to add her number for you?”
Preston grimaced. “Yes. Search NYU Faculty
Directory.”
“Searching... Found, one Dr. Alice Rice, professor of
Astronomy at New York University. Comm number not
listed. Would you like me to try something else?”
“Call New York University.”
“Calling...”
Preston waited while the call rang through the speakers
in the frames of his glasses. An attractive young woman
appeared on the lenses, smiling brightly at him.
“Hello, Mr. Baylor! It’s an honor to speak with you, sir.
I’m a huge fan of you and your family’s work!”
Preston waved away her praise. “I’d like to speak with
Dr. Alice Rice.”
“Of course... one moment, let me see if she’s available.”
The woman tapped away on a keyboard beyond his field
of view, and imagery flickered brightly across her glasses.
“It looks like she’s in a work conference at the moment.
If you like, I could take a message for you, or ask her to call
you back when she’s—”
“Is she on campus?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good, then I’ll go see her directly. Thank you for your
time.”
“But—”
Preston ended the call. He stood up suddenly from his
living room couch and spun around to find Terry, his butler
bot, gliding in with his lunch—lobster mac and cheese with a
green smoothie. The bot was the latest model from
Andromax: gleaming silver and black, with two legs, a
rubbery white face and two disturbingly life-like blue eyes.

Scott / PLANET B / 24
“Here you are, Mr. Baylor,” Terry said, smiling as he set
the tray down on Preston’s backlit onyx dining table.
“Sorry, Terrance. Something came up. Give it to Buck.”
“The dog has already eaten, sir.”
“Then save it for my dinner!” Preston called back.
“Yes, sir,” Terry replied.
Preston barely heard the bot. He was already halfway to
the front door. Just before he reached the entrance of his
penthouse, he had another thought, and turned back the
other way, heading for the floating staircase in the living
room. Fighting his way through traffic to reach the university
would take a while. His air car would be much faster.

* * *
12:48 PM

Layla stood in the yard of Sing Sing Correctional, taking
a statement from one of the guards, Murphy Carson.
“I noticed the commotion over there, by the fence.”
Murphy pointed. “I was just about to sound the alarm when I
saw this flash of light. And then they were gone. A bunch of
the guys started shouting, screaming about the end of the
world...” Murphy trailed off shaking his head. He looked like
he was about to be sick. “I don’t know how they did it, but by
the time I got there, they were gone. We did a roll call.
Counted everyone twice. And both times they came up
missing.”
“By they, you mean Tom Smith and Fango Morales?”
Layla asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Murphy said. His head bobbed, making
the fat rolls bunch beneath his chin.

Scott / PLANET B / 25
Warden Joseph Snyder pushed his AR glasses higher up
on his nose. The images flickering across the lenses made it
look like he was watching the news. She could imagine why.
The entire city—no, the world—was busy losing its head over
this Planet B thing. It was big news. Maybe the biggest ever,
but as far as Layla was concerned, it didn’t matter how near
or far that planet actually was. She lived here, and dealt with
crime here. Not in outer space, on some alien planet that was
probably millions or trillions of miles away.
Layla frowned and glanced at her partner, José Cortez.
He was short, but fit, with a well-trimmed beard and thick
black hair to match. Jose shrugged. “Let’s go take a look over
by the fence,” he suggested.
“Sure thing,” Officer Murphy said, leading the way
across the clumpy field. He stopped beside the fence and
pointed to a spot where the footprints in the sandy track
around the fence were smudged beyond all recognition.
“They were right here when they vanished.”
Layla went over to the fence and grabbed it in both
hands. She rattled the chainlink, checking for signs of
sabotage. It hadn’t been cut. She walked down the length of it
in both directions, shaking the fence and checking the posts
to make sure they were all still firmly planted in the concrete.
Everything seemed to be in order. After that, Layla walked
around the area, stomping her foot.
José sidled up to her after about a minute of that. “What
are you doing?” he whispered.
The warden was looking at her like she’d lost her mind.
“I’m checking for tunnel entrances,” she said, loud
enough for the warden to hear. He did.
“You really think they could dig a tunnel here, in plain
sight of all the guards?”
Layla walked right up to him. Joseph Snyder straightened
his back. He was a tall, thin man with pinching brown eyes

Scott / PLANET B / 26
and thinning gray hair swept back from his forehead. She
crossed her arms and regarded him with a wry smile.
“All right. Then how do you think they got out of here?”
“Three days ago, a planet appeared in the sky where
there was nothing but empty space before. One of the
astronomers who claims to have discovered it says that she
saw a flash of light before it appeared. Now, two days later,
another burst of light blinds a dozen of my guards and more
than a hundred prisoners, taking with it two hardened
criminals. You don’t see the connection?”
“So... your theory is that a planet abducted them?” Layla
said.
“Don’t be ridiculous. My theory is that the two
phenomena are connected. That is all.” With that, the warden
cast his eyes skyward.
Layla frowned and joined him in looking up. All she saw
was a pale blue sky, cotton ball clouds, and the sun glaring
down. To all appearances, it was a day like any other, and
nothing was amiss. But the warden’s words chased up a
confusing collection of memories, muted and faded with
time.
It was the eleventh grade. She was fifteen years old and
living in Middleton, New York. The school took a field trip
to the Sterling Hill Mining Museum. She spent the day with
her classmates, pretending to be interested in the fluorescent
mineral displays, while actually using the cover of darkness to
make out with her boyfriend, Axel Harper.
Then, when it came time for lunch, she went to the
bathroom, while he went ahead to grab a plate of food for
her. When she came back, Axel Harper was missing. The
teachers went crazy, running around, asking everyone who’d
seem him last, but no one knew where he was. Pretty soon
the mine was swarming with police. They questioned her
thoroughly, but she was barely coherent through her sobs.

Scott / PLANET B / 27
Their parents were called, and then the busses took them
home early.
To this day, Axel’s disappearance was an unsolved
mystery in Middleton. And in part, the trauma and horror of
that day had contributed to Layla’s decision to become a
detective.
“If an entire planet can suddenly appear in an empty
vacuum, why can’t a pair of inmates vanish into thin air?”
Snyder asked. “Everything we thought we knew about the
universe has been called into question.”
Layla brought her gaze back down to Earth with a scowl.
“I want all of your security footage from the yard from the
last two days up until the moment those prisoners
disappeared.”
“Of course,” Snyder said. “Anything else?”
“Yes. I want to speak with the prisoners who were
closest to them when they disappeared.”
“That will be La Familia.”
“La who?”
“The Latino gang. They had Tom and Fango surrounded
to keep the guards from seeing them fight.”
“The prisoners were fighting each other when they
disappeared?” Layla asked, her brow furrowing. Up till now,
she’d assumed that they’d been working together to escape.
“Yes. Didn’t Officer Murphy tell you?”
Layla glared at the curly-haired guard. He drew himself
up, pulling some of his prodigious belly into his chest. “I
didn’t think it was relevant,” Murphy said.
“Everything is relevant!” Layla snapped at him. Looking
back to the Warden she added, “Let’s go see La Familia.”
“Of course. This way.” Snyder began cutting back across
the yard to the cell blocks.
“Who pissed in your coffee this morning?” José
whispered to her as they followed the warden.

Scott / PLANET B / 28
Layla flicked a scowl at her partner, and he held up his
hands in surrender.
“Easy tiger. Rawr.” A grin lit his face, and his brown eyes
sparkled mischievously.
“Fuck off, Cortez.” ...