The Loneliest Whale

| February 1, 2017


Joy Ramonnes’s life has been odd enough already, what with passersby freezing under her balcony and never recovering, and her best friend, Julius Artin, being the epitome of social awkwardness. (The latter can be excused, of course, considering that when Julius looks at people, he sees their source codes, combinations of letters and numbers, instead of their faces.) But this particular day is decisively over the top: it’s one thing to miss her ship to India, and another entirely to almost kill a stranger who calls himself Whale and claims to be a member of an ancient and superior human subspecies who for centuries have been recruiting millions of ordinary people and altering their genes in order to ensure humankind’s survival through every possible cataclysm.

Now, thanks to her clumsiness, Whale is cut off from his kind’s collective mind–an event unprecedented and, for that, eerie–and she has to help him find a way to reunite with his family, and quickly, for there is a new mysterious danger hovering in the air. Joy, however, is a little distracted by the fact that there seems to be something wrong with her eyes. Something strange, alien is staring at her out of her own pupils, and Joy’s about to find out that all of these crazy things are little pieces that together comprise one big, craziest picture.

This is a family-friendly, fairly heartwarming, and occasionally witty (but oftentimes silly) sci-fi novella of 25,000 words that will make you want to look yourself in the eye. Or not.


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