Rise

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Rise Page 1

by May Sage




  Rise

  a Sci-fi Romance

  May Sage

  Contents

  Rise

  1. Duty

  2. Choices

  3. The end

  4. Kidnapped

  5. Strategies

  6. Cold

  7. Ashforth

  8. Factions

  9. Change

  10. Good night

  11. Contract

  12. Lesson

  13. Luck

  14. Note

  15. The beginning

  Rage

  Preface

  16. Found

  17. Chosen

  18. The Heir

  19. Threat

  20. Family

  21. Ignored

  22. Captive

  23. Enough

  24. Blood

  25. Unexpected

  26. Plead

  27. Compromises

  Epilogue

  Rule

  28. The Fall

  29. Stranded

  30. Mate

  31. Duh

  32. The good twin

  33. Punishment

  34. We rule

  35. Pairings

  36. The End

  More From May

  To Claim a King

  Till Dawn Do Us Part

  Beyond Time

  Part One

  Rise

  One

  Duty

  Calden

  Calden somehow managed to prevent himself from throwing up when he saw the girls. They were little more than children. The agonizing sounds coming from the imperial chamber perfectly illustrated the reason why each and every one of the fourteen females before him was soiled, bruised, and terrified of him.

  He looked just like their abuser.

  “How many has he called?”

  His tone was cold, detached. Such was the way of their race. They never made snap decisions or jumped to conclusions, it went against everything they were taught; Klints measured probable outcomes to every action, using facts, stats and logic.

  Calden was a great believer in this process. He needed to remind himself of that, as his fist itched to collide with something solid; anything would do.

  “All of them,” Jaycn replied with an uncharacteristic scowl. “Every girl of breeding age in the city.”

  The nausea grew worse, yet. This wasn't what their invasion had been about.

  The Klints were far superior to the human race in every possible way, which was the reason why they'd left them alone, when they'd first heard of the sentient Earth inhabitants who looked so similar to them; however the most recent researches and experiments had proven that they needed them now.

  Or at least, they needed their females.

  The Klints had stopped primitively bearing their youth over two millenniums ago; children were engineered, to create the perfect specimens. At the turn of the previous millennium, they'd failed to see the point of developing female reproduction systems – uteruses had become a useless hindrance to women.

  However, the reproduction centers had failed to create sane, healthy children for over two generations; they either died before reaching maturity, or worse yet: they turned rogue, insane – whatever they called it. It wasn't pretty.

  Then, someone had talked about attempting to inseminate a human, and the rest was history.

  Well, not quite; the war following the refusal of the human race to relinquish a hundred breeders a year was too raw in Calden’s mind to be called that, yet.

  “He’s managed to impregnate all those girls?”

  “Not exactly. From what we can tell of those who aren't resisting medical treatment, he isn't… Impregnating them all.”

  Strangely, Calden was relieved, rather than irritated. At least, not all of them would be likely to carry his half-siblings.

  He lifted his left hand and wordlessly, Jaycn thrust his sword into his grasp.

  It hadn't been his plan; he would have preferred to spend a century or two perfecting his knowledge of the world, before taking on the responsibility.

  But it seemed that there was going to be a new Emperor by nightfall.

  Five years later.

  Lena

  Lena wasn't stupid, so when the officials came for her, she did what any smart, sensible girl would have: she ran for it.

  She was quite good at that; while she perhaps lacked practice now, no one raised by Michael Ashford would ever enter a building without considering the potential emergency exits.

  Besides, she’d survived two years at the Imperial Academy. Such a feat wouldn’t have been accomplished without daydreaming about every possible way of breaking out on a daily basis. The professors were that boring. Hot, like most Klints, but then, they opened their mouths.

  When the three officials in their immaculate imperial uniforms entered the classroom and announced they – and their various weapons – wished to speak to her, she went for the window. It was that or the back door, and she suspected the three large Suckers might have more issues dangling down drainage pipes than running through corridors.

  She skillfully glided down and jumped when she reached the first floor; the fall hurt her knees and joints, but as the adrenaline had kicked in, she managed to ignore it and force her limbs to move, fast.

  From there, it was a walk in the park.

  Well, not technically; San Francisco was anything but a park, these days. Lena passed the quiet, clean streets of the privileged A Zone – in other words, the homes of various high-ranking Klints – as quickly as possible, taking every shortcut to get to the busy, messy, foggy market.

  There. She was safe now. There was no way they'd ever find one lone girl in this mess. Well, as long as she managed to blend in.

  The market had taken over what she'd called the city center, in her teens. To say that things had changed was a slight understatement.

  While fashion was still available to those who could afford it, behind the closed, guarded doors of the Imperial Malls, there were no high end boutiques in these streets; things had gone back to the basics for the common populace.

  On her left, there were the butchers, milkmen and fishermen, the artisans were on her right and the produce, higher up the street, closer to the Mall – they'd been allowed that place of choice because while they displayed their goods in front of their doors like anyone else, fruit and veggies didn't stink as much as raw meat, and weren't as noisy as shoemakers; the Suckers wouldn't want their sensitive senses to be accosted by such unpleasantness when they came down to restock their wardrobes, after all. Assholes.

  Lena was on a tight budget, but she headed straight to her right, towards Donny’s.

  The shop mostly sold second hand and handmade items, but amongst the many cast-offs, she'd spotted something a while back. It was in the sparse “new” section, and still had tags which revealed it used to be seventy-five dollars – practically twice her monthly food allowance. Now, it was fifteen dollars.

  “I'm taking that.”

  Lena pressed her finger against the digital cash register, which flashed blue, indicating that the credit had been approved.

  She couldn't afford it, but she needed to change, she was too recognizable right now. As a purchase had to be made, she didn't see the point in going for a cheaper outfit she would have no use for after today. In for a penny, in for a pound, as the Brits said.

  “I need to get changed. Is the back free?”

  The old shop-owner took her in, and she must have read her accurately, because she looked out the window, towards the street.

  She took a step back, mouth open. No need to ask what she'd seen.

  The old woman silently pointed towards a door, before thrusting a bundle of fabric in Lena’s hand, squeezing her fingers in show of support.

  Lena
didn’t waste an instant, shedding her beige student uniform, replacing it by a pair of skintight exercise trousers and a running jacket.

  It was the good stuff, no doubt about that. Despite the cool air, she felt perfectly comfortable – not warm, nor cold.

  The bundle of cloth turned out to be a hat. Good call. She gathered her red hair and stuffed it under the black wool, before leaving through the staff entrance behind the shop.

  Twenty minutes later, she was five miles away from the place where her financial transaction could be recorded; she might have been quicker, if she could have afforded some running shoes, but in her flat ballerinas, it was as far as she could go without giving herself blisters.

  Lena winced. Scratch that. More blisters. She already had a couple, at least.

  She knew she couldn't hide forever; she had exams in two weeks, and she couldn't miss them. Not after everything she'd given up to get an education.

  But surrendering now, while being on low ground, unaware of what the Klints were after, wasn't in her nature; she'd figure out what they wanted with her before deciding on the best course of action.

  Lena knew she wasn't really in trouble; whatever it was, anyway, she hadn't done it. Her life was that uneventful, these days.

  But they could have wanted her because of her father.

  After considering her options, she headed towards the closest Dissenter outpost she knew of, and sent a simple message to their leadership.

  Help.

  Two

  Choices

  Jaycn

  “She what?”

  Jaycn was shocked.

  Lena Smith could not have outrun three Klints. It was just impossible.

  The term impossible came to his mind too often for his liking, in conjuncture with the female’s name.

  Eleven earthen days ago, a report had been sent straight to the ruling authority and had thus disrupted the running of the entire Empire.

  Jaycn hadn't believed a word of it; like the bio-technicians, the analysts, and everyone high up enough to have been made aware of the situation, he'd dismissed it as an error, a bug; a trap, at worst.

  It wasn't in the realm of possibilities.

  Right?

  Everyone had emphatically nodded whenever the ridiculousness of the results displayed in front of their eyes had been highlighted. Everyone but Calden.

  Because Calden, their newly crowned Emperor, still hadn't said a word on the matter.

  He'd spoken, since. He'd said “prepare my vessel.” He'd given appropriate orders and answered queries with monosyllabic acknowledgements when he'd been required to. He'd even nodded here and there.

  But that was it.

  Right now, the Emperor was standing up in front of a window overlooking the city; the view was remarkable, from one of the highest buildings in San Francisco.

  Magneo, their home, had no such edifice; they liked vast, impressive statements, just like humans, but rather than focusing on stature, Klints built immense halls and humongous rooms with high ceiling. The imperial palace probably extended further than their entire city; but there was only one floor.

  To anyone else, it might have seemed that the emperor had just been looking down towards the streets, appreciating the unique perspective like any curious Klint, but as his cousin and oldest acquaintance alive, Jaycn knew him better than that.

  Everything betrayed uneasiness, his silence, his eyes, the hands firmly held behind his back.

  The Emperor hadn't been at peace since they'd heard the female’s name.

  Lena Smith.

  “She escaped,” the commander repeated. “I will take full responsibility for this failure, sir. However, may I say, after going over my team’s records, I do not believe that any sort of oversight on their part might have caused it. The female is… talented.”

  Jaycn snorted. Talented. There was no creature alive on this planet who'd ever been given the skill set and the training their children got in their first year of self-defense.

  “Now now, Jaycn,” a syrupy sweet voice interrupted. “She may not be a Klint, however, we are in their world, remember,” Celma purred from the larger seat in the room, quite obviously reserved for the Emperor.

  Celma frequently took such liberty, and no one said anything against it.

  No one could.

  “The girl would know the city better than our soldiers.”

  That female had a way of always picking the winning side, which meant that she believed Jaycn unjustified in his snap judgment.

  Well, there was one way to clear that up.

  Jaycn tapped the microchip fitted on his temple, activating it.

  Hologram, he ordered.

  Some needed to give their directives out loud, but Jaycn’s thoughts were steady and unwavering. An instant after he'd formulated the instruction, his computer was displaying every function he could access in front of him; he swiped through until he'd reached the surveillance records.

  Not every city was as heavily guarded as San Francisco, but as Calden had decided to make it his residence while on Earth, every inch was crowding with cameras.

  He found it soon enough.

  The record focused on his men when they arrived to the classroom, but then, as soon as the leader had said her name, the girl flew into action, leaping towards the window.

  Damn, she was quick. And agile.

  Follow her.

  The camera trailed her through the streets as she ran, jumped bridges, climbed. Someone had to go and tell her she was supposed to be human.

  She entered a shop and that’s where their men lost every hope of finding her.

  She'd been striking, with her long red tress, and that distinct outfit, but she came out at the back a completely different specimen.

  When he looked up, Jaycn saw Calden had turned around, and like everyone in the room, was scrutinizing the female.

  Most people frowned, trying to decide what to make of the human, but there was something in the emperor’s eyes; it shifted swiftly, too quickly for Jaycn to put his finger on what it had been.

  Jaycn paused the record, freezing her in place.

  The hologram was life size, which meant that she was really that tall, almost reaching his shoulders; for a human, it was an achievement. She was also slim and muscular. With her hair out of the way, and in a get up similar to most spaceship uniforms, she could have passed for a Klint.

  Or was he only thinking that because her actions made her feel like one?

  “What now? We can't exactly pull a warrant, the human authorities would have a field day if they hear that we’re hunting her down without a valid reason.”

  It wasn't shocking to hear this from Celma, who was against the very notion of testing out the anomaly recorded by the compatibility program.

  Of course she was.

  Celma was one of Calden’s females; as one of the only fertile Klints alive, she'd been given to the imperial family as a breeder since puberty. When Calden became Emperor, she settled as head of his household.

  She liked it that way.

  “Now,” Jaycn replied, “we wait. The girl is bound to resurface. She was alarmed, so we will send a friendlier, less intimidating delegation, and request another blood sample. That's all.”

  They hadn't gotten much, just a few drops, when she'd been tested for diseases by her surgery, and most of those who'd seen the results had concluded that the sample had been tampered with, as some sort of a joke, purposeful or by error; it didn't matter.

  It just had to be a mistake.

  “You could send me,” Celma offered. “As I am a fellow female, she might find me less intimidating.”

  Yes, brilliant idea; if they wanted the girl to come to them in a box.

  “Kind of you to offer, but I would like to volunteer.”

  Jaycn didn't know what he expected, but the house wasn't it. She lived in a vast, luxurious mansion in what had been the most exclusive area of the city; now it was part of the Zone C – certainly
not the slums, but their electricity shut between ten and six, their tax on petrol was extremely high – to render private transportations unaffordable.

  The Empire couldn't allow the humans to destroy their planet. Their stock of breeders was of the utmost importance to them, so they’d had to implement rules. Most humans despised them for it.

  Jaycn took his time, appraising his surroundings. The furniture was hidden under white cloth, there were no light bulbs in most of the chandeliers, but the floor had been recently swept, and someone used the kitchen. The pantry, while not full, had some food – sensible, long lasting things, like pasta and rice.

  “I keep the chocolate in my room, if that's what you're after.”

  He’d heard her breathe as soon as he'd walked in, but avoiding the door where it had come from had been the goal; he needed her at ease.

  Jaycn turned to see the girl he'd first caught a glimpse of through a hologram.

  She was still in her sleek black clothing, and while she was sitting on the kitchen island, her whole stance meant she was ready to run for it if needed. She'd changed her footwear; it was uglier, but obviously more suitable for a long chase.

  Clever girl.

  “I must say, I haven't had chocolate as yet.”

  He'd tried foie gras and caviar; that had told him everything he wished to know about earthen delicacies.

  “Damn. Sucks to be you.”

  Jaycn felt the strangest thing; the corner of his lip curled up.

  Laughing wasn't frowned upon, but it didn't happen a lot to him, yet her smirk made him want to smile down.

  She was dangerous.

  “Lena Smith,” she introduced herself, holding her hand up.

  He looked down at it and frowned.

 

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