Monday, 9 November 2015

Algorithm by Arthur M. Doweyko

Arthur has authored 100+ scientific publications, invented novel 3D drug design software, and shares the 2008 Thomas Alva Edison Patent Award for the discovery of Sprycel, a new anti-cancer drug. He writes hard science fiction, fantasy and horror.

His novel, Algorithm, which is a story about DNA and the purpose of humanity, garnered a 2010 Royal Palm Literary Award (RPLA) and was published by E-Lit Books in October, 2014. Many of his short stories have garnered honors including finalists in the 2011-2013 RPLA competitions, Honorable Mentions in the L. Ron Hubbard Writers of the Future Contests, and best short fiction in the 2012-2013 Preditors and Editors Readers Polls. He has completed Angela's Apple (Winner of RPLA 1st Place, Best Sci-Fi of 2014) , a story of guardian angels that are not angels, forbidden love, and the secret fate of humankind. His current project is Henry The Last, a story about the last creature with a human brain, and what it means to be human in a post-apocalyptic world where nothing is what it seems to be.

He lives in Florida with his wife Lidia, teaches college chemistry and happily wanders the beaches when not jousting with aliens.

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About the Book

Algorithm is a fast-paced, science fiction mystery/thriller. The novel is an epic tale consisting of two parts: The Medallion and The Makers. Using real science and real events, we are drawn through a rapidly unfolding series of discoveries and adventures, which ultimately lead to a surprising view of mankind’s purpose on Earth.

A gold medallion is discovered in a lump of coal over a hundred million years old. It contains a code describing human DNA at a time when there were no humans. How could this be? Adam Dove wants to know, but when he starts to investigate, his laboratory is destroyed and a close friend is murdered. Joined by a brilliant biochemist, Linda Garcia, the two are hunted by a Nazi underground bent on retrieving the disk and a mysterious alien presence, which may be more interested in destroying it. Adam and Linda face the most difficult decision of their lives-to leave all they know behind for the chance to discover mankind's origin and purpose.

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Excerpt from Algorithm

When he reached the bottom, he peered down the length of the basement toward the front of the house. The darkness felt grim and the cold air licked at the back of his neck. The light from the stairs faded as Adam crept forward, groping for a switch or a dangling chain. Bumping into musty carton boxes and storage crates, he crept farther into the gloom. He paused when he heard footsteps above, muffled conversation, or the sound of water gurgling through pipes. When his outstretched hands touched a metal post, he craned his head to the side and focused on the dim outline of the broken window. Hazy light streamed in from above and outlined a darkly smeared coal bin. As he neared the coal bin and he needed to look no further. The ball sat atop a mound of dusty anthracite.

He scaled the blackened wooden planks and landed softly at the base of the coal pile. He clambered up, slipping and kicking up sulfurous dust, blackening hands and knees as he scrambled to the top. He lunged for the ball, grasped it with one hand, and glided down the rocky heap in deep satisfaction. Dust settled around and on him, fading in and out of the light. Adam found his other hand clutching a few nuggets. He was about to toss them back into the heap when a sparkle of reflected light caught his eye. He opened his fingers, releasing one lump at a time, until all that remained was a fist-sized chunk. Even in the muted light he saw the oddly-shaped golden glimmer. He rotated his upturned palm, bringing it closer. There was something metallic in the coal.

The sound of footfalls on the staircase broke his reverie. There he was, reclining in a dusty coal bin at the far end of an unlit, unfamiliar and cavernous cellar—ball in one hand and a mystery lump of coal in the other. The shadowy figure reaching the foot of the stairs was about to discover an intruder. Tucking away the coal in his dungarees pocket, he rolled off the brimstone mound, careful to avoid dislodging a 'here-I-am' mini-avalanche. He slipped over the side of the bin and felt for some potential cover. The lights came on just as he squeezed between a stack of cartons and the cellar damp wall. Shuffling feet with loose slippers slapped their way toward him. Adam fought down a strong urge to jump up and run.

I bet my ass is hanging out for all to see.

The shuffling and slapping drew to a stop.

That's it, he's got me.

"What's this?"

I'm dead.

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