The Rush

Praise for the
MoonRush
Series
…

“Buckle up! From the depths of the ocean to the
reaches of outer space, this outrageously clever tale, auspiciously set in the
year 2049, has an unlikely band of quirky memorable characters and a plot that
will blow your mind!”

Taylor Lee

Author,
Aces
Wild

"This was a fast-paced adventure with
entertaining characters and an engrossing plot. Reading Moonrush was like watching
a great blockbuster summer movie except that I could enjoy it while on the
beach. Won't disappoint."

BookLover 1960

Amazon Reviewer

"This book played out like an action packed
adventure movie in my head. You know, an action packed adventure movie with a
plot, and characters that you can really relate to, and care about. It's filled
with everything from science fiction to teenage angst, and nerd humor. All of the
elements of a great story are there, and that's what makes it so much
fun."

Dude McMann

Amazon Reviewer

“A great plot with lots of fun twists and turns.
Whether you like sci-fi, adventure, mystery or romance you'll find it in this
book. You will not be disappointed in this fabulously fun read!”

Holly Ritchie

Amazon Reviewer

* * *

THE RUSH

by

Carolyn McCray

Ben Hopkin

Start Reading

About the Authors

Afterword

Other Works
by Carolyn McCray

Read the First
Chapter of
Moonrush

Copyright

Contact
Information

Table of Contents

The silver Mercedes taxi came out of nowhere and almost ran
Mia over, jolting her out of her thoughts. Literally. As she slammed a hand
onto the offending car hood, her hand got zapped. The latest in hover car
technology. They could now protect themselves from “abuse.” Right. Just a new
way for taxis to be even more obnoxious. The driver just smiled as she shook
out the sting. No use in getting upset. By the time she could think of a
comeback, the driver was long gone, merging into the second tier of traffic,
and even if he wasn’t, he was French. Very little chance he would take anything
an American said seriously. Ah, Paris.

Mia was crossing the Quai des Tuileries, coming from the
river Seine on the Pont Royal, headed toward the Musée du Louvre—arguably the
most famous museum in the world. Also one of the few that had not kicked Mia
out and politely asked her never to return.

She tossed a glance behind her, feeling as though eyes were
on her back. It was a stupid instinct, of course. She was just a Ph.D. student,
who the heck would be following her? Well, with what she had in her purse,
fellow scientists might want to; however, most of them were more accustomed to
white lab coats instead of trench coats. Even so, Mia hurried toward the Porte
des Liones entrance situated along the far southwest corner of the museum.

Clasping her jade scorpion necklace to keep it from
bouncing, Mia crossed the remainder of the street with a bit more caution,
dancing between mothers with strollers, clearly on a play date missions, and
the subdermal tattooed beatsters. She hadn’t had a chance to really use her
martial arts training given her hectic schedule, so Mia took time to enjoy the
solo sport of crowd dodging. Funny to think she’d originally fought her parents
tooth and nail on going to the dojo, but they’d insisted; if she wished
to…gasp…live abroad, she needed to know how to protect herself. Now she
couldn’t imagine life without what her sensei called “thoughtful strength.”

At the entrance to the famed museum, Mia waved her pass
across the holographic scanner and was dinged right in. She nodded at the
virtual security guard—Selle, she thought his name was—as he looked down and
frowned at her well-worn loafers. Even the holograms in France were
pretentious. Shaking off his virtual disapproval, Mia walked up the steps to
the first floor. From behind, a group of tourists shoved past her with little
or no regard for her presence. They were like the Visigoths invading Rome, only
without the manners.

The Mona Lisa will still be there, Mia wanted to shout, but
it was the Louvre, after all.

She put her hand inside her purse to check that the device
about to rock the world’s notion of art and man was still inside. The MedScan
4, supposedly a simple device to perform CAT scans out in the field had been
modified to do so much more. The changes she had made to the program were working
fantastically well. Too well. Like revolutionarily well. Through the grad
student grapevine, Mia had heard stories of innovations of this magnitude being
targeted by corporations and even hostile governments. It might be 2049, but
greed was still alive and well.

As she dug around inside her purse, a postcard worked its
way to the surface. A postcard she had meant to send to her family last week.
At this point, it would be easier just to hand it to them. She was going back
to the States to visit for Chinese New Year in four days.

Four days. 96 hours. 5,760 minutes. It was like an
old-fashioned time bomb ticking down in her head. Now the tightness in her
chest and feelings of absolute doom made sense. It wasn’t some nebulous
international conspiracy to steal her scanner. It was plain ole family phobia.

Now if she were married, pregnant, and could present her
Ph.D. degree to her parents, kind of like her two sisters, then Mia would be in
the clear. However, there was no gold ring on her finger, and last time she
checked her belly was unoccupied, and well, her doctoral thesis had hit a
sticky patch.

“Excusez-moi, mademoiselle,” a kindly voice murmured as the
woman tried to move past Mia.

“Ce n’est pas un problème,” Mia replied, grateful for her
undergraduate minor in French. She scooted to the side, the brief encounter
bringing her back to her purpose here. Yes, her thesis had basically been blown
out of the water, but that was before the modifications to the scanner. Now?
She could smell the job offers once she published the results.

Time to get some baseline scans. Mia felt the familiar rush
of adrenaline as she pulled the device out of her purse and passed it across
the head of a man trailing along at the back of the pack. She made the pass
quickly, pulling the scanner down by her side as soon as she could.

Mia peered down at the reading. Impatience. Irritation.
Exhaustion. Probably dragged along to the museum by his wife. He certainly was
no art lover. Mia scanned another, this one an older woman. Excitement.
Anticipation. Exhaustion. Well, they certainly had one thing in common. Perhaps
it was the tour guide. The buttoned-down young lady at the front of the group
did seem to be…determined.

As Mia studied her device, the group slowed and she almost
bumped into her subjects. She stowed her scanner with some trepidation,
glancing around to make sure no one had seen. She really didn’t want to get
kicked out of the Louvre, too.

She circumvented the group, giving the tour guide a
surreptitious scan as she passed. Aggression. Wait. Could that be right? Mia
checked the scanner again. Definitely aggression, with little or nothing else.
Mia stared at the guide, taking her in more fully. Tallish, blonde hair that
was almost platinum, ice blue eyes, and a lean profile. What an odd thing. But
so far the scanner had been precise in not just picking up brain waves, but
quantifying them. Giving Mia an insight into not exactly what people were
thinking, but how they were feeling. Sometimes a much more valuable measure of
a person.

Leaving the group and its odd readings behind, Mia took the
next set of stairs at a brisk pace. The morning would soon be over and she
wanted to have at least a little bit of research to show for it.

As she exited the stairwell, she barely missed running into
a large man in an army green coat. So much for her martial art skills keeping
her out of trouble. Mia really needed to pay better attention. She turned to
apologize to the man, but found his jaw clenched and his fists balled. She took
a step back, then as quickly as the fury had risen, it faded away, leaving a
look of apparent bewilderment.

“I to apologize, miss. I was not to know I standing in way.”
The man’s heavy accent sounded French, with a hint of something else. Belgian,
perhaps? His smile was strained, but at least he was trying to be polite. More
evidence that he was Belgian.

“It was completely my fault,” Mia said, inching away. “I
wasn’t watching where I was going.” As soon as she passed the man, she swiped
her scanner past his head, then kept moving.

Not until Mia rounded a corner and headed down the long
walkway, passing by the Spanish paintings, did she stop to read the scan.
Anger. Worry. Determination. Each one of those results was completely contrary
to his words. But she was so new at this. Maybe that’s just how one acted in
polite society. You were pissed off on the inside but kind on the outside?

Shrugging off the inconsistencies and deciding to scan only
art patrons from now on—she did not want to explain these anomalous readings to
her Ph.D. advisor—Mia continued down the long passageway filled with the
Italian paintings, working her way from most recent to oldest. Rounding the
next corner, Mia found herself in front of Véronèse’s The Wedding Feast at
Cana. As luck would have it, there was a couple standing there holding hands,
their backs to her.

Perfect. These were her kind of subjects.

Mia glanced around, making sure no one else there could see
what she was doing, then pulled out her scanner and approached the happy
couple. To get a full read, she had to get close enough for the scanner to pick
up the brainwaves, but stay far enough away that she wasn't setting off
anyone’s creep alert.

One advantage was Mia’s years of martial arts training.
Moving quietly maybe wasn’t something that was taught to the white belts in
most dojos, but if you spent enough time working with masters, you picked up a
few skills along the way.