Karakorum by Don McVey blogtour extract

In this gripping sci-fi adventure, Sorcha, a youngster from the outer-edge, discovers a hidden anomaly within the deadly game of Scratch, setting off a chain of events that will test her abilities and challenge her very existence.

Scouted by a stranger from a rival faction, Sorcha finds herself pursued by malevolent forces intent on unravelling the secrets she unwittingly uncovers. To find the truth and avert impending catastrophe, Sorcha must embark on a perilous journey to the heart of Karakorum—an expansive shanty town divided by borders formed from interconnected minds—a remnant of a dark era known as The Wipe.

Within this chaotic world, the inhabitants abide by the dictums of the Modor, the founder of Sapienism; a religion based on the sacrosanct human gene. As Sorcha delves deeper into the labyrinthine society, she uncovers an ancient riddle that holds the key to the past and the future of every connected citizen. However, unbeknownst to her, her actions could inadvertently lead to their ultimate downfall.

Enter the dystopian world of Karakorum and immerse yourself in the richly imagined world, where technology, consciousness, and humanity collide. Join Sorcha as she battles formidable foes, unravels enigmatic puzzles, and grapples with the consequences of her choices

Author Bio

Don McVey has worked for over 20 years in the Film and TV industry.

After winning the H.G. Wells award for his short story ‘Transference’, he decided it was time to get round to writing a novel.

His debut novel Karakorum was released in May 2023.

Extract

Sorcha sat with her back against the base of a decaying railgun that pointed out over the Baltic Sea, watching waves break against the submerged ruins below, of what had once been Tallinn. The gunnery was the only place Sorcha knew where she could find the solitude needed to prepare her mind for a match.
She tried to empty her thoughts into the black sea, but the approaching storm made her uneasy. Perhaps the more likely culprit was the thought of the upcoming game. The rarity of a child playing Scratch, a term taken from the losing player’s scratched state, had not gone unnoticed. A deep-edge recruiter had made the unorthodox journey to the outer to challenge her, an act that was almost unheard of. Many were expected to make the journey to witness the match first hand, elevating a regular Scratch game into an event of monumental importance for Sorcha.
She resigned herself to the fact she’d never feel adequately prepared and stood to leave. Before she turned, the faintest glimmer of light seemed to wink at her from behind one of the rolling waves. She trained her eyes to the spot, her fingers tightening by her sides, nothing. She cast her glance along the brutal death squad that lay patiently in waiting. Rain began to drop on the surface of the hard structures, making the edges glimmer against the dark sky. They terrified her, and she found herself again questioning; how could I have made it?
Nobody knew for sure how Sorcha had arrived at the outer-edge, but it was assumed that whoever brought her had perished in the crossing. If the railguns hadn’t ripped them in half, the currents likely would have. For this reason, Sorcha was seen as a local oddity and had been welcomed into the usually hostile community; a community comprised of the wretched, downtrodden and hopeless that made up the outer. They were her people now.
By her build, most assumed Sorcha was very much a child; although a closer look into her eyes revealed an older soul, brooding and serious, hinting at the hardships they may have seen. Her body was frail, but her mind sharp enough to make a meagre living competing in the main source of entertainment for the estimated fifteen billion souls who lived within the confines of Kara.
Sorcha made her way back towards the gargantuan living mass that seemed to grow organically from the ground. To view Kara as a place with geological boundaries would have required knowing its limits, or understanding its hideous scale; something the very nature of the factions made impossible. Kara was simply the name for everything still in existence, it was effectively the entire world.
From her low vantage, she looked up at the towering wall of chaos hugging the coast in both directions, pockmarked with infinite glowing specks from the endless cube-sized lives it contained. A monstrous shanty-town built layer upon layer, from every known material, engineered by millions of minds over countless generations, its very density the only thing that held it together. From where she stood, she’d heard it continued over seven thousand skyless miles east; a concept Sorcha found impossible to grasp.