Title: Neodymium Exodus
Age and Genre: YA SF Space Opera
Word Count: 95,000
Query:
Lem’s diseased, and she’s not interested in a cure. They say she’s got a contagious brain infection, or maybe she’s a witch, a portal for an evil energy-being invading our universe–but actually Lem’s a freedom-fighter who’s spent her childhood evading the paramilitary group that hunts her for talking to her invisible friend, Njandejara. Njande’s kind and strange, like that odd sunbeam in the middle of a rainstorm, and he’s only interested in knowing Lem better, not destroying her world.
When the paramilitary group captures Lem, she’s sent to a re-education camp to be “cured”. She resists the treatment. Fed up with her shenanigans, Lem’s captors kidnap her space-lemur adopted brother, Cinta. If Lem bows, Cinta goes free. As Lem’s resolve fails, Cinta warns her there’s more at stake than his life: their connection to Njande might be key to saving the universe from impending thermonuclear collapse. Lem questions his sanity (and her own!) but if he’s telling the truth, she’d better find a third option fast–or she’ll lose someone she loves either way.
First 250 Words:
Lem wasn't a big fan of warnings, but the people who ran her life were, so she gave the meat-market businessman a loud one the moment he made eyes at her little sister.
“She ain't for sale, Skins,” she said, stirring the dregs of her shake with her straw. She said it for everyone in the ice cream parlor to hear.
The businessman's green hair puffed in offense; his slit-eyes gleamed bright as his ruby scales. “Mind yourself, witch,” he sneered.
Witch, huh? Lucky for him he didn't call her crazy.
A loud slurp silenced the whole parlor as Lem finished off her shake.
Four seconds later Lem had chopped down the businessman like an overgrown holly bush. No one interrupted. No one helped, either. The space-lemur policeman in the corner stared at the phone in his paws, ears perked even as he pretended not to see; the Wonderfrog server behind the counter tapped his bulging fingertips on his skull like desserts really worried him.
Lem tightened her grip on the meat-man's wrist, spitting through her teeth as she ground his face harder into the plastic table. “Whatever I am, everyone in here knows you're selling little girls to the greys, and one day I'll prove it and get Officer Scritch there off his duff for a change.” Her voice dropped to a husky whisper. “But the day you talk to my sister again? Officer Scritch won't be lookin' for you. Won't be a you to find.”
Meat-man grunted.