In a couple of weeks, Titan Books is due to publish the latest novel by Stephen Gaskell — a brand new novel tying into the acclaimed Endless franchise: Shadow of the Endless. The novel is pitched as “Perfect for fans of the Endless series as well as readers of space opera and YA science fiction.” Here’s the synopsis:

While her starring people are being hunted by an implacable enemy, a young caver discovers a traitor in their ranks and must undertake a transformative journey across the galaxy to save everything she has ever known.

Persecuted for their worship of the Endless ― an ancient, galactic-spanning race of god-like power, who disappeared long ago ― the Pilgrims escaped the world of Raia almost a century ago, fleeing the despotic rule of the United Empire in a dozen space-faring fleets. The Pilgrims of the Horizon of Light fleet have spent two long years being hunted by an especially determined Empire foe. Now though, it appears they’ve finally caught a break, laying low on a non-descript comet that’s hurtling into deep space.

Young Pilgrim Sewa Eze wants to become a caver―and head into the depths on deserted moons, asteroids, and worlds to secure whatever the fleet needs: precious resources, Endless relics, even Dust. However, a strange device is discovered deep in the ice of the comet they shelter on ― suggesting dark forces are afoot ― and Sewa is instead selected for a leadership role at the Ceremony of Duties and must reassess her life, beginning with finding the traitor in their ranks who threatens her entire fleet’s existence.

The course of Sewa’s life changes forever as she is forced to confront treachery, discover the secrets of the ancient past and travel to the very heart of the tyrannical United Empire.

*

The sirens begin, a long skin-crawling wail that reverberates through the geodesic dome. The crowd disperses — orderly yet purposefully — but I stay rooted to the spot, like I’ve been pitched into darkness.

We’ve had tight scrapes before, but this feels different.

Like the UE knew we’re here.

I know what I should be doing. I should be heading for the Dawn Skies’ main airlock to get to my home vessel — or should I?

As of a few minutes ago, I’m no longer a novice.

I’m a Pilgrim with a given duty. Just like the rest of the new crop who loiter, unsure what they should be doing. We all have masters now. Mine just happens to be the Overseer herself.

Her wish is my command.

I can’t approach her though, even if she stands not ten paces away. A scrum of masters surround her like barking dogs, flanked only by High Counsel Ito who remains tight-lipped. The exchanges are heated, Defensemaster Zaerva in furious argument with Battlemaster Nedi and Shadowmaster Bawa.

They’re making a hard choice.

“What should we do?” Oba asks, uncertain. “Sewa?”

“I don’t know,” I whisper, glancing at him. “I guess we won’t be getting inked tonight.”

The Overseer lets both sides say their peace, then raises a hand, silencing further discussion. Except for the masters and us, the gardens have emptied, and the sirens echo unchallenged across the dry grass and desiccated trees. The Overseer turns and whispers a word to the High Counsel, who nods and departs. Without any fanfare, she quietly addresses the masters.

Afterwards, Bawa shakes her head and Nedi drops his in defeat, while Zaerva, the Defensemaster, touches the Overseer’s forearm in solidarity. Then they all leave.

The Overseer turns and approaches us.

“Pilgrims,” she says, “I wish you every success in your new duties, but we find ourselves in exceptional circumstances, so for now, I ask that you return to your home vessels until this crisis passes.”

I feel my unease deepening. I don’t want to sit on the sidelines while this plays out. Among the others her words have elicited mixed emotions. In some, relief, in others, exasperation.

We start to leave.

“Not you, Sewa.”

I stop dead, turn.

“Overseer?”

Oba and a couple of the others have stopped too, curious, but the Overseer gives them a steely look.

“Stay safe,” Oba says to me, and they head off.

“With me,” the Overseer says, giving me no time to figure out Oba’s feelings.

Before I reach her side, an announcement starts blaring over the noise of the rolling sirens.

“EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY. EVACUATION PLAN AZURE… EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY. EVACUATION PLAN AZURE… EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY. EVACUATION PLAN AZURE…”

Azure. Isn’t that—?

“We’re going to have to move fast,” the Overseer says, turning and striding off. “No time to waste.”

I follow her into Kyrv’s Rest. Across the whole arcology I’ve never seen quarters so lavishly appointed, so spacious. Two high-backed armchairs, upholstered in thick, button-pocked leather are the centerpiece of the room, next to a low oval-shaped table brimming with papers and trinkets. The Overseer grabs something from the table, then disappears into the baroque, gilded library, all the while engaging in terse exchanges over her earpiece. Orders, I surmise, not debate.

While she rummages, I marvel. An antique globe from the age of sail depicts Raia’s continents and oceans in sepia tones, while fleshy-hued, portentous paintings illustrate the original exodus. The only clue this place might not be a private study in a large manse on some venerable world is the holographic star-chart that slowly gyrates above the grand desk.

“—Sewa?”

“Sorry, Overseer?”

“Come on, this way.”

We leave the study, hasten through another part of her quarters, before we’re back in the Dawn Skies’ maze-like passages, gradually ascending through the hub orbital’s structure as the siren’s wail.

“I brought you with me,” the Overseer shouts over her shoulder, “because the next few hours—the next few days—will give you great insight into the demands and challenges of leadership. Just by observing you will learn a great deal—provided we come out of this attack alive.”

My stomach tightens; another stab of fear.

“You think they’re aiming to destroy us?”

“I do. The Empire despises the fact we’re an aspect of itself that sought escape.” She glances back, gripping a lower rung of a ladder we’re about to climb. “Erasing the Pilgrims from the galaxy isn’t enough for Zelevas, though. He wants to erase us from history too. We can’t let that happen.”

No, we can’t.

“Not everyone wants to fight though,” I say, thinking of the tension between the Overseer and the High Counsel.

“Sometimes that’s the only way.” Liandra begins climbing.

“You think I can be a leader?” I ask a moment later, shouting up the ladder shaft. “I’ve never thought of myself as one.”

“I wouldn’t have chosen you otherwise,” she replies, voice echoing down the shaft. “Listen, Sewa. Our culture is dying. The Horizon — all the Pilgrim arcologies — are slowly losing their hunger, their survival instinct. Despite what Artak says, the search for the Endless is not enough. Every civilization needs to have a purpose, otherwise it dies.” She catches her breath, the steady rhythm of our foot- and hand-falls on the rungs creating a discordant chorus. “The United Empire give us a cause to fight, but they are only a distraction. We need a new generation with new ideas.”

I wonder if she’s got the right person. Most of my ideas focus on first keeping Rina and Mother safe and fed. And then caving, a distant second. The Horizon’s enduring raison d’être doesn’t even cross my mind.

“And that’s me?”

“I’ve had my eye on you a while, Sewa,” she says, as she reaches the top of the ladder. “You’re not in awe of the Endless like many of the other novices. From your earliest years, even before your father left, you’ve been skeptical of their elevation, recoiled against many of the teachings. I’ve seen that.”

She’s right, but I don’t say anything.

I clamber up the last rung, breathing hard.

“Eventually,” she continues, “many Pilgrims get to the same place, but they’re usually too old or too comfortable or too afraid to agitate for change. I’m one of them. And so the cycle carries on, the culture slowly asphyxiating itself. But you’re young. You know these thoughts you harbor are deemed heretical by the orthodoxy, so you don’t give them voice; you ignore them or bury them, and you seek a life free from confrontation.”

She lifts my chin, locks eyes. “Isn’t that the real reason you’ve always sought the solitary life of the caver? To avoid conflict — to avoid the judgment and the shame that would follow.”

Is she right? I don’t know.

A message comes in over her earpiece, and she turns away, presses a finger to her ear.

“Understood,” she says, then turns back to me. “Mutiny brewing on the bridge. Let’s step it up. And Sewa,” she adds, before she’s off again, “under my wing you don’t need to be afraid. I can protect you.”

When we reach the bridge, Commander Ldeko, Battlemaster Nedi, and High Counsel Ito stand around the tactical hologrid, while several lower-ranking crew occupy the consoles positioned around the oval periphery.

High in the uppermost reaches of the Dawn Skies, we’re a good distance above the cometary surface now, and the curved screen gives a panoramic vantage over the decamping fleet. Most of the arcology is still on the ground, but several vessels have already escaped into holding patterns above the regolith, vaporized ice trails glittering in the starlight.

The room is tense.

A look of disgust crosses Nedi’s face as he notices me hanging back. Guess I wasn’t his first choice for the duty of leadership. Well, screw you. I stride out of the shadows and join the Overseer on one side of the hologrid.

Ldeko glances between myself and the Overseer. He leans forward, hands gripping the edge of the hologrid. “Overseer,” he says, unable to hold his tongue any longer, “this plan is a mistake.”

*

Stephen Gaskell’s Shadow of the Endless is due to be published by Titan Books on October 15th, in North America and in the UK.

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