The Nosferatu Chronicles
Book 1
ORIGINS
Copyright © 2015 Susan Hamilton
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Line edited by Allister Thompson
Cover Art Copyright © Dimitri Elevit
selfpubbookcovers.com/dimitrielevit
DEDICATION
To my husband, Dean Hamilton,
My daughter, Alana Riley,
And in loving memory of Alan Riley.
Contents
TREASON
DEPARTURE
TRIBUTE
ARRIVAL
FREEDOM
SAVAGES
VISITATION
BALANCE
ADDICTION
ADVENTURE
DECISION
JOY
UNREQUITED
DECEPTION
PASSING
SAFETY
WARNING
TRANSITION
PERJURY
DEFERMENT
SANCTUARY
CONFESSION
AWAKENING
PLOTS
CHOICES
LOYALTIES
HARVEST
RECOVERY
CRUSADE
GESTATION
SEAL
FRIENDSHIP
FLIGHT
PRECAUTIONS
DAMNATION
SERMON
REBIRTH
SUNKEN
BLOODLINES
SUCCESSION
DISSOLUTION
GROWTH
PARTING
FUGITIVES
REUNION
INFERNO
EXCURSION
REMISSION
ANGUISH
ATONEMENT
RETRIBUTION
FAMILY
TREASON
Planet Vambiri
The preparations were concluded: ten prisoners had been stripped, gagged, and lashed to metal posts by Enforcers in radiation suits. Safe inside the solar shield, the Primus read out the execution warrant precisely ten minutes before sunrise.
“These citizens of Vambiri were arraigned on the crime of treason and found guilty by a jury of their peers. The sentence of death has been passed upon them and will now be carried out in accordance with the law.”
Vidcom monitors in the underground city of Lun displayed the live feed of the macabre event. As dawn transitioned into sunrise, the condemned struggled against their restraints. The sounds of their muzzled screams rose in volume as their flesh began to roast. Delirious with pain, one of them bit through his gag and screamed a final, agonized accusation.
“The Passenger Lottery is a lie!”
Seconds later, the solar rays reduced him and his companions to ashes.
DEPARTURE
Kevak cleared his thoughts in order to remain inconspicuous. Born into Highcaste privilege, there had never been a reason to fear for himself or his family, until now. His mere presence in the Lowcaste Sector of Lun was a violation of martial law, and if the starving masses he walked among grew suspicious, they would not hesitate to attack him. Even though the Lowcaste clothing and boots he wore concealed the packets taped to his legs, he was keenly aware that the slightest change in his demeanor could attract unwanted attention.
Don’t run. Don’t make eye contact. Don’t show emotion.
He noticed a female walking briskly with her arms crossed tightly around her chest. Head stooped and eyes downcast, she quickened her pace.
She’s carrying…and now they all know.
A large male stepped in front of her, punching her hard in the chest. A bright, crimson stain spread across her tunic. The sight of it had an immediate effect on the crowd: those nearest ripped open her tunic and clawed at the tape that held the packets in place, and the few who were able to grab one of the intact nectar tubes ravenously bit into them and sucked out the contents. The rest, on their hands and knees, clamored to lick up the remnants that leaked out during the frenzied struggle.
The female’s misfortune provided an opportunity for Kevak to slip away into the maze of air vents that had led him to the Lowcaste Sector. Weak from malnutrition, he needed to stop to catch his breath several times. Eventually, he located the small scratch he had made above the vent to the unit he shared with his spouse, Vrin, and their infant son, J’Vor. Tapping three times, he waited for Vrin to unlatch the cover. Squeezing through the tiny opening, he dropped to the floor and breathlessly told her to quickly close it.
“It’s been two days!” she exclaimed. “I was so worried! Why didn’t you take your palmcom so we could keep in touch?”
“It was too risky,” he said as Vrin helped him disrobe. “The Council is monitoring all communications for any hints of rebellion. I managed to get enough to last a week, maybe ten days.”
He removed the taped packets from his legs and placed them on the table. Vrin could not believe her eyes as she counted the contents. “Twenty-three wafers and four nectar tubes!”
“Give J’Vor some nectar, and we’ll share a wafer,” said Kevak.
Vrin stood above J’Vor’s crib and carefully spooned a small amount of hemo-nectar into the baby’s mouth. When she was finished, Kevak broke one of the crimson hemo-wafers in half and handed her a piece. Resisting the urge to consume them quickly, they waited patiently as the pieces slowly dissolved in their mouths. Within minutes, the nourishing effects could be felt.
“Come,” said Kevak. “Let’s lie down. We must conserve our strength.”
Kevak immediately fell into a deep sleep. The climb back through the vent system had tested his physical limits. When he awoke, Vrin was lying next to him, still awake.
“Won’t you tell me how you got them?” she pleaded.
“No,” insisted Kevak. “I won’t risk you being implicated.”
“What did you have to trade for hemo-rations?” she asked.
“I’ve never lied to you, Vrin,” he said. “I didn’t steal the rations. Let’s leave it at that.”
Vrin’s question went to the heart of the matter. Four months ago, a series of violent quakes had reverberated through the depths of Lun. When it was deemed safe for Lowcaste agricultural workers to begin their night shift on the surface of Vambiri to collect the planet’s only source of food, the hemoplant, they were greeted by the sight of withered crops. Within hours, the workers had become violently ill from massive radiation exposure.
Vambiri had been devastated by a gamma ray burst. Although the Vambir had never been successful in growing the hemoplant underground, they desperately tried again. As had happened during every previous attempt, the seedlings would sprout and thrive for a few weeks in artificial light, then inexplicably wither and die.
Martial law was declared. All hemoplant supplies were strictly rationed, and plans were made to evacuate the planet. Even though the ten ships of the Vambir fleet were each capable of accommodating thousands of passengers, this still meant only a small fraction of the population had a chance of survival. Those lucky enough to be passengers faced even steeper odds: after nearly a millennium of space exploration, the Vambir had yet to discover any habitable planets.
Rumors were rife in the Lowcaste community that not only were Highcastes hoarding hemo-rations, but they were also conspiring to exclude Lowcastes from the passenger manifest. Seeking to quell unrest, the Primus had announced there
would be a Passenger Lottery on Departure Day, which was yet to be determined. Every Vambir’s identification code would be entered once into the lottery. In addition, hemo-wafers and nectar tubes could be exchanged for extra entries: one per wafer and five per nectar tube. This resulted in the Vambir reducing themselves to starvation rations in a desperate attempt for better odds of selection. As the wait for Departure Day grew from weeks into months, further rumors persisted that it was being deliberately delayed until all Lowcastes were dead from malnutrition.
At first, Kevak did not believe the accusations. His own meager rations were dangerously low, and not only was he Highcaste, but his importance as Navigator of the Isla meant he would have been among the first to receive special treatment.
Many felt it was unfair for the Council to have given passenger assignments to the immediate families of all Crewmen and Enforcers, but there was no alternative. Time was of the essence, and no Crewman or Enforcer could be expected to cooperate with the evacuation efforts if the survival of their loved ones was not guaranteed.
Despite Kevak being a Navigator, he had been given no information about Departure Day, and that was why he had risked so much to obtain the rations. Ironically, government bureaucracy had provided him with something to trade: Vrin and J’Vor had been assigned separate stasis pods. Since babies younger than six months could safely travel in the same pod as an adult, the extra assignment code was more valuable than the combined wealth of the Highcaste.
Fearful of approaching his fellow Highcaste with a possibly treasonous proposal, Kevak had spent the last two days wandering through the Lowcaste Sector until he was able to locate a black market dealer. What he had seen had greatly disturbed him. Lowcastes were far worse off than Highcastes. They had had fewer hemoplant supplies to begin with, and nearly all of them had been traded for extra lottery entries in the belief that Departure Day was imminent.
He had looked on in disgust as the bodies of those who had died from starvation were unceremoniously dumped into garbage elevators and transported to the surface for daylight incineration. One might be forgiven for thinking that the skeletal corpses were better off than the ambling, hollow-eyed masses that had been reduced to relying on primitive instincts in order to survive.
His memories of the Lowcaste Sector were interrupted when the vidcom loudly powered up and showed the footage of the latest executions. The clip of the condemned male screaming “The Passenger Lottery is a lie!” played on a loop.
What are they doing? That’s not an official announcement.
The execution images stopped, and a Lowcaste female appeared on the screen. “Our murdered comrades bravely gave their lives to obtain the truth about the Passenger Lottery. We have the manifest. The Passenger Lottery is a lie!”
The vidcom then displayed ten lists, all with identification codes containing the familiar “111” Highcaste prefix.
“The list was taken from the Primus,” she said. “Here is our proof!”
The camera panned to the broken body of the Primus.
“It is the Primus!” cried Vrin. “Who’s leading The Council now?”
The Lowcaste woman continued with her accusations. “Not only did The Council conspire to exclude us from the Passenger Lottery, they also contrived to confiscate what few hemo-rations we had left by using false hope for extra lottery entries. Rise up, Lowcastes! Rise up! Resistant fighters are—”
The broadcast abruptly ended. Moments later, a high-pitched hum followed by loud explosions could be heard.
Laser strikes!
Kevak’s palmcom buzzed with an incoming message. Vrin saw his hands shake as he read it.
“They’re evacuating now,” he whispered.
Vrin’s eyes widened. “No Passenger Lottery?”
Kevak slowly shook his head.
As the blaring evacuation siren began to wail, Kevak scrolled through the palmcom until he found Vrin’s stasis pod access code.
“Give me your hand,” he said as he picked up a laspen and removed its cap, exposing the hair-thin needle on the tip. He used the pen to infuse the code onto her hand and did the same to his.
“But I thought there were two—” she began, before suddenly realizing how he had obtained the extra rations.
Kevak put the rations back into the packets and grabbed a roll of tape.
“There’s not much time,” he said to Vrin. “Lift up your tunic.”
After taping the packets to Vrin’s waist, he hurriedly put on his uniform. Picking J’Vor up from his crib, he kissed the baby then firmly secured him to Vrin in his sling.
“Stay close to me,” he said. “If we get separated, you can get through the departure barrier using the access code. The Isla is on Platform 10. It’ll be the one farthest away from the barrier.”
As he opened the door of their unit, the corridor was full of panicked Highcastes running in different directions. Kevak held Vrin’s hand tightly as they made their way through the thickening crowd to the departure barrier. Seeing an Enforcer, Kevak flagged her down.
“I’m Navigator Kevak with the Isla!” he shouted. “My family and I have been ordered to report immediately.”
Noting Kevak’s insignia, the Enforcer saluted him. “I’ll do my best, sir, but the crowd is getting ugly.”
She used her palmcom to inform her fellow Enforcers she was en route with a Navigator.
Seeing Kevak’s uniform, the desperate crowd pushed toward him.
“Navigator!” yelled one of them. “Tell the Enforcers to let us through! If there’s no lottery, then the pods should be given to those first in line!”
Kevak said nothing and averted his eyes as he pulled Vrin along through the pressing crowd.
“Grab him!” shouted someone else. “We can use him to get in!”
Upon hearing this, the Enforcer fired her weapon into the crowd. Twelve stunned Vambir immediately fell unconscious to the ground.
“Stay back!” yelled the Enforcer. “Once all Crewmen are on board, then Citizens will be allowed through!”
“You lie!” yelled another. “Look at all those Enforcers allowing their favorites to cut in line!”
The crowd surged forward, and the Enforcer fired off another round, but this time it had no effect as the Vambir wildly trampled over those who had been stunned. Other Enforcers opened fire and provided enough cover for Kevak and Vrin to pass through the barrier.
Kevak stopped to thank the Enforcer who had escorted him.
“When you get to Isla, sir,” she said, “tell Commander Ma…”
Her words came to an instant halt as she was vaporized by a laser strike.
“Resistance fighters!” yelled an Enforcer. “Set lasguns to kill!”
Kevak and Vrin sprinted toward the Isla, their fear overriding their weakness from malnutrition. Upon seeing Kevak’s uniform, those guarding the hatch waved them through.
“Commander Mazja wants all crewman on the bridge immediately, sir!”
Pausing a few seconds to kiss Vrin and J’Vor goodbye, he headed for the bridge and arrived to find Mazja in deep discussion with Helmsman Chaluxi.
“What’s happening outside, Navigator?” she asked.
“Resistance fighters are at the barrier, Commander,” he said. “They’re firing lasguns.”
“Ignorant, Lowcaste scum!” she hissed. “If they strike just one of the rockets, it will set off a chain reaction.”
“Commander,” said Chaluxi, “they’re lowering the solar shield in preparation for immediate departure. All Enforcers have been ordered to board the nearest ship.”
“Everyone left outside will be exposed to radiation,” said Kevak.
“Radiation levels rising, Commander,” reported Chaluxi. “Shall I close the hatch?”
“No,” answered Mazja. “It closes automatically once the levels get too high. It’s the best we can do for those still outside. Power up engines in preparation for lift-off.”
A deafening explosion reverberated in their ear
s.
“Report!” ordered Mazja.
“The ship on Platform 1 has taken a direct hit, Commander,” said Chaluxi. “I’m reading a buildup…”
He was cut off when a second, larger explosion caused the Isla to list.
“Get us out of here!” shouted Mazja.
The Isla and three other ships lifted off their respective platforms as more violent explosions could be felt.
“Chain reaction!” reported Kevak.
Chaluxi set the thrusters to maximum, and the Isla accelerated away from the carnage. In his peripheral vision, Kevak detected large balls of fire rising from the surface. As more explosions sounded, a blinding light lit up the night sky.
“Brace for shockwave!” shouted Mazja.
As the shockwave hit the four escaping ships, the two closest to the surface broke apart.
“I can’t get any more acceleration, Commander,” said Chaluxi. “Once the wave reaches maximum spread, it will collapse and pull us back down.”
“Maintain your course, Helmsman,” ordered Mazja. “We’re nearly in orbit.”
Just as Chaluxi predicted, the crew could feel the collapsing shockwave pulling the Isla back to the surface. Kevak looked at his panel and saw that the engines were overheating.
“Commander, we must shut down engines immediately,” said Kevak. “They’re going to blow.”
“That’s suicide!” cried Chaluxi.
Another large explosion could be felt directly beneath them.
“It was the ship that took off behind us,” said Kevak. “Their engines overloaded. We must power down!”
“Engines to full stop!” ordered Mazja.
The force of gravity quickly took over as the Isla plunged back toward the surface.
“Steer into it,” said Kevak to Chaluxi.
“It’s working,” said Chaluxi. “The cold air outside is passing through the engines. They’re cooling down! I’m going to power up.”
“No, wait!” insisted Kevak. “They’re still too hot!”
“Do as Kevak says,” ordered Mazja.
Once it was safe, Chaluxi restarted the engines and manoeuvred the Isla out of its controlled dive. After a few minutes that seemed like an eternity, the crew collectively breathed a sigh of relief as the Isla reached a safe orbit above Vambiri.
The Nosferatu Chronicles: Origins Page 1