Alpha Dawn: Book one of the Teragene Chronicles

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Alpha Dawn: Book one of the Teragene Chronicles Page 13

by Morgan R. R. Haze


  “Any kind of Hybrid is nothing more than property to a Norm… so they do what they like with us.” Damian said in an upset tone.

  There was a short and solemn pause in the conversation, as though all three of them were recalling events from their past.

  Then Natasha continued with her explanation saying, “The majority of Pale Hybrids were created later on for their ‘beauty’ as their designers called it, being taller and more slender than the average human. I think we were intended as domestic slaves, viewed as aesthetic possessions rather than as utility property. Pale Hybrids have more aquatic characteristics, mainly in coloration rather than distinct traits or features. Fortunately for most of us, we do not look like fish.” Natasha slightly laughed, then continued, “But there are only small minorities of Pale Hybrids who ended up with distinctive traits allowing them to breath underwater or handle deep sea diving compression."

  “Yes, your understanding is very accurate Natasha. Though, I understand there may be more variations of Pale Hybrids out there, which have abilities which are far different than their water breathing counterparts.” Kendric replied.

  "Well, I wanted a different life than what was planned for me. I doubt I could have even dreamed this up." I stated in surprise.

  Neil Allister Journal Entry Three: Entry Date: 3226 A.T.D.

  What I was about to do would be morally grey and a major gamble. Yet, I reminded myself that while gambling was a low-born activity, it was never truly gambling for me, as I always won.

  I realized that the Count's health was slowly but surely failing. I feared for what would happen to all the servants and Mondragon Industries if he passed. I reviewed all of Count Mondragon's holdings, drafted a document, and then asked to meet with the Count to review important business documents.

  The Count’s eyesight had deteriorated to the point where he could no longer read for himself. After reading off reports from warehouses, trade with other planets, and overall financial holdings, I presented Count Mondragon with a stack of papers to sign. About half way through the stack he reached a document that was much longer than the rest. Asking what it was, I assured him it was simply to insure that Mondragon holdings were properly secured for the future and he had nothing to worry about. He then put his hand on my shoulder and said, "You know I'm fond of you Neil, I trust you." He signed the document and I quickly reclaimed it, rolled it up, and sealed it with the Mondragon family crest. I looked into the old man's eyes and for a moment felt regret, and maybe even a bit of care for who my father could have, or should have been.

  However, I quickly remembered the world that I was born into, the planet of Fell. I reminded myself that I was only the Count's property and everything I had done and accomplished only served to enrich my captor. I couldn't trust him to do the right thing and think about others beneath his station in life, or to reward a deserving servant in the end. So I simply said "I am aware my lord, now please rest, as we can finish reviewing the rest of the papers tomorrow."

  Several weeks after Count Mondragon signed the document, Taylor Everett was to serve the Count tea, which was a common ritual. Everett was a constant among those who never took a liking to me. His resentment only grew as I became highly esteemed by the Count in just a short period of time. Though Everett was one of the highest servants within the estate, Count Mondragon insisted that when it came to his tea only Everett knew how to make and serve it properly. The Count enjoyed a black tea with a spoon of honey, and several drops of vanilla. Before Everett prepared the tea, I observed Philip sneaking out of the kitchen that morning. I was surprised to see Philip and told him that he and my father were supposed to have left the estate.

  Everett mixed the beverage, put it on the Count’s favorite silver tray, and began his usual procession to the Count’s sitting room. Tea for the Count was no simple matter as it included several servants, various dishes, and often visitors. Today was a particularly prestigious day for Count Mondragon as he was taking tea with several high ranking officials of Port Arthur, including the Commander of the City Watch.

  The Commander of the City Watch was in the middle of explaining in detail about the various hot iron branding applications that are used on criminals in the district, with several officials making jokes at the Deviant’s expense.

  Suddenly the Count started to choke. At first it was assumed he had just swallowed the tea incorrectly, but soon it became evident that something was really wrong. Within half a minute the room of high society was sent from poised and elegant, to chaotic and in absolute shock. The Count was lying dead on the floor.

  Immediately the gathered officials called up additional guards from the Watch to the room. The various food and tea items were inspected or tested for poison. There was quite the panic among some of the guests. Had they been poisoned too? I tried to keep my composure, but then I could not help but drop to my knees and hold the Count in my arms. He was the closest thing to an honorable paternal figure I had ever known.

  Then the Commander of the City Watch picked up the departed Count's teacup, sniffed its contents, and realized exactly why the Count died. He shot a glance across the room to one of his Lieutenants, "Search everywhere. Find who did this!" He also instructed two of his nearby guards to seize Everett for questioning, since he had served the tea.

  To my horror, Philip was discovered and brought into the room along with a report that there was a corpse behind a locked door in the south wing. The Commander realizing Philip looked like a poor vagrant hoped to resolve the issue by accusing Philip of the crime of poisoning the Count. Of course Philip denied it. This left the Commander with no choice but to take both Everett and Philip to Gallworth Prison for interrogation.

  Under extreme duress in the confession chambers of Gallworth, Philip pleaded guilty to two counts of murder of the Count and the old man in the south wing. He was branded as Deviant and executed promptly, his body being displayed, rotting… hanging in a cage outside the prison as a deterrent to all would be criminals.

  Everett was never heard from again. It was assumed that he was acquitted of the charges, but out of shame from the ordeal never returned to the estate.

  I was relieved that no DNA samples were taken from staff to connect the corpse or Philip to anyone working in the Estate. In fact, it was highly uncommon for the judiciary of Fell to use such technology in criminal cases as the old, or in some people’s opinions, feudal ways were best.

  Upon a further searching of the house, a last will and testament was also discovered in Count Mondragon's study. It named one "Neil Allister, to be effective immediately, the sole heir to all of Count Mondragon holdings, along with title, and power..." I felt such regret at first, yet I knew that the old Count never would have signed it without my sleight of hand. It was one of the only dishonorable things I had ever done, but it was for an honorable purpose. I knew the alternative would have been complete chaos for the servants and Mondragon Industries and I was the only one qualified to responsibly oversee his vast holdings.

  While the inherited wealth of the Mondragon estate and Trade Company were recognized by Lord Imperator Thorn's Regime, the title of Count was not bestowed upon me. The reason being, I came into Fell a low-born and I would leave a low-born.

  I chose to liquidate some holdings but kept Mondragon Industries under my control…

  Mondragon Industries Head Office on Fell -3226 A.T.D. Day 347- Neil Allister

  When I heard a knock on the door and I put down my paper journal, and answered, “Come in." It was one of my managers, "Mr. Allister, there's something I need to report to you. You know the supplies we were tracking due to the recent thefts?"

  "Yes" I replied.

  "Well, we have surveillance footage you will want to see. It may not be what we thought.” He said.

  After reviewing the footage I turned to the manager. "Inform the warehouse director that I must depart. Prepare a medium class cruiser and fully arm it. From my experience, one can never be too careful when trackin
g thieves."

  "Understood" responded the manager.

  The Latitude in Route to the Coalition -Day 354- Kendric

  After so much time with Patrice and her husband being among the few Normals we interacted with, it was strange having Bree with us. Almost all of the escapees were Hybrids. Patrice usually dealt with those who weren't. She wanted to be sure of those who she gave sanctuary to. The Coalition was still in its infancy. A wrong decision could undo all our progress. But the Teragene purchase was to be made with Normals and she was sure one of these two was a Hybrid.

  Natasha was what we expected. Bree was different. It was obvious that she had run out of desperation, but in many ways she was still innocent. She had been shocked to realize the commodities traded in Port Arthur were people. Yet she accepted that we were just people who were different. I sensed no judgments or fear, only curiosity. That was a rarity. Even some Hybrids distrust other Hybrids of different variations.

  Another thing that made Bree different was that her thoughts were unshielded. Usually I could sense general moods and get a feel for people. But several times I could see what she was thinking. I found that I had to focus on not reading her to give her privacy. I kept seeing the image she had of herself, the magpie among the flamingos. She saw herself as little and brown, brown of hair, skin, and eyes. It wasn't a true representation. Her hair had an Auburn hue. Her eyes had a dark, almost black outline and a few green and gold flecks sprinkled about.

  Damian was the only other person I could read so clearly. He was still uncomfortable having a Normal in such close quarters. He had received the worst treatment of the two of us while we were slaves. Even though Patrice was the one who freed us, it took Damian years to fully trust her.

  As teens, we had been sold to a Teragene mine. If we failed to meet quota, we were beaten and the remainder added to the next day's quota. Damian covered my shortfalls whenever he could, usually by receiving the punishment for me. It was a dark time, literally and figuratively. We didn't even see the sun for over a year. Then one day, an inspection was declared. All workers were sent up to the surface, so inspection crews would have the mine to themselves. All the slaves were sent to one building, little more than a Teragene cargo hauler. Once we were inside, the whole building shook and there was the sound of metal against metal. After what felt like years, the doors opened and Patrice told us we were free. She had scheduled her action to coincide with the inspection. The owners were required to be present during the inspection. The Coalition had managed to steal the cargo hauler with all the slaves inside. Damian and I decided to stay and help the Coalition with more rescues. Several others did the same, but most simply wanted a safe place to hide.

  I understood Damian's distrust, and knew he wouldn't understand my growing fascination with a Normal. I knew Fell’s capital was an industrialized city. Yet when Bree dreamt, it was of the forest on Wyatt, or of an obviously imagined beach. It was clear she had limited experience in life and was starved for knowledge of the universe. Yet instead of being withdrawn and terrified, she was curious and excited about new things. I found myself looking forward to seeing her enjoy each new experience. It was almost as though I was experiencing things for the first time.

  New Ireland -Day 355- Ell Singer

  Time on New Ireland seemed to run differently than the other places I had been. Not in the literal sense but in the sense of perception. One minute could fit so much into it as if time had slowed. The next minute, everything was flying forward again as though to make up for the pause. This planet emanated a feeling of old world magic, as if it was conjured by the tales that its people refused to let die along with Old Earth. With their fairy palace and their hillside dwellings with round shaped doors they kept their legends alive.

  I knew that when we left, we would have to face the reality that was waiting for us. I shake the feeling that this would be the calm before the storm. The data kept pointing to the Void. The further I dug, the more convoluted the data became. This had been time away to forget, mend, and recharge, if for only a brief moment of time. This reprieve had been what we all needed.

  I had dreamt about coming here after Jason's first visit. He had shared so much about this place with me that it was the first time I truly wished I was with him; a feeling that had only grown as time went on. Over four years ago, he had read to me about the hand fasting ceremony. I had girlishly gushed about the beauty of its meaning, which was why he must have chosen it as the symbol of the love we found in each other; that made it all the more special.

  But time catches up with everyone eventually. The buyers arrived exactly a week to the day of our landing. Jason had cleared the transfer of sealed cargo from one ship to the other with the space dock master, so we were able to make our transfer relatively unobserved. Most of our crew was aboard the Waylay preparing to leave.

  Jason, Mark, Aria and I were working the transfer. Jason and I were to handle the face to face interactions, while the dock bots moved the cargo and Mark and Aria covered security.

  Jason ascended the loading ramp of the Coalition’s ship. I stayed by his side. The two bots each were carrying a reinforced crate in single file behind us. There was a man and woman waiting for us at the top of the ramp. The woman stepped forward and introduced herself, "I'm Captain Patrice Monroe. Welcome. I hope you don't mind us testing your cargo. Especially since your crates lack the usual Teragene warning symbol." She said very politely, but you could tell that she had steel in her core.

  "I wouldn't expect anything less." Jason told her honestly. "We only ask that you do it in a safe manner."

  We moved to the side to allow the first bot to pass. As we did a golden skinned, tawny haired, muscular, female Hybrid stepped out from behind the mountain of a man who stood next to the Captain. I had the bots freeze on the spot, as Jason spat out, "We don't deal with slavers!" It felt as if our fears of the Teragene falling into the hands of unscrupulous people had come true. Jason felt that slavers had no better morals than the rapists and murderers who he hunted. If they sell people to the highest bidder, they wouldn’t hesitate to sell Teragene to anyone for the right price.

  "Is that because of your dislike for the slavers or for those that they enslave?" The female Hybrid hissed out past her sharp feline like teeth.

  I knew that most slaves were not allowed to speak without first being given permission, and never in their own tongue where their masters could hear. So I asked, "If you are not a slave why are you wearing the collar?” in her own language.

  Her eyes widened almost comically large. "How do you come to speak Gull?" She asked me.

  "My comm is tied into the ship's translator program." I lied. "You are here willingly?" I asked for all to understand.

  She responded by reaching to unclasp her collar. "I wear this so no Moun Fou thinks that I am free game." She replied, turning the heavy metal collar over in her hands to show us that the deadly circuitry had been removed. "I am Surry, one of the founding members of the Coalition. Our true purpose is to help as many slaves as possible flee all thirteen sectors. With the Teragene to form safe worlds we will be able to live in harmony with like-minded humans."

  "It's a noble cause you have started." I said, and then glanced over to Jason questioningly. He met my eyes and nodded his head.

  "The crates are yours. Safe journey." Jason said, turning and leaving the ship.

  "Your money is not needed here. It is better used elsewhere, the Teragene is yours." I told them and then followed after Jason. I knew that Surry must have been one of the Hybrids able to sense the presence of Teragene. The bots proceeded with the off-loading of the crates.

  "So what was the take for the sale of those mysterious crates?" Aria asked as we came aboard the Waylay.

  "Whatever Ell decides to put into the ship's account," Jason said. I knew he didn't want to take their money, but that he needed to pay the crew a fair wage for the jobs that they did. He knew that I could access funds from anywhere if I wished; I had to b
e careful doing the transfers, so as not to draw Fenix’ attention while doing it. After all, Fenix aggressively monitors the transactions of their patrons and I have my own rules about where I get my money from.

  "There will be a nice bonus coming everyone's way." I told her. There was a criminal organization I had found a short time ago that would be funding some good deeds very shortly.

  Jason headed directly for our quarters. I knew that he was upset, not because of the loss of money or the Coalition’s plans but because of the instant, overwhelming anger he had felt when he thought that the Coalition were slavers. It had been unfounded but that kind of anger once summoned needed an outlet.

  Once in our quarters he opened up a panel to his personal gym. A punching bag hung up in the middle of the little used room. He attacked it with all of his pent up emotions. His form was sloppy and he was going to do more damage to himself than the bag if he kept at it the way he was going.

  I turned on some of his favorite music, which had a strong beat he used to jump rope with. I stretched out my hand into his field of vision holding a jump rope. I knew if he accidentally hurt me his anger would truly turn in on himself.

  After a few more hits he wordlessly relented and took the rope. I left him to it but stayed within earshot in our bedroom, he had already torn up his hands, I didn't want him to do any more damage to himself than he already had. I started working on setting the Coalition up with more funding and arranging the payment for the Waylay.

 

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