The Genesis Sequence Books 6-10

by Mackenzie Morris

  "You're serious?"

  "Why wouldn't I be?" Viktor winked at him. "After all, a Cyrino never forgets his family."

  Rav set his empty can down. "What are you talking about? Who are you?"

  "Viktor Cyrino. Nice to finally meet my long-lost nephew and his adorable son."

  Viktor Cyrino? Rav's uncle, then? "You're my father's brother?"

  "The youngest. Also the one who was exiled from Odyssia for . . . various transgressions that we won't go into right now. I wasn't sure it was you until you told me you were from Odyssia. I had suspected from the moment you applied for an apartment at the Housing Center, but I didn't know for sure. I forgot that your last name was changed to Tillman so as to not disgrace the great Cyrino family with an illegitimate child."

  "This is surreal. You're actually a Cyrino? All the way out here, so far away from Odyssia?"

  "Well, so are you, right?" Viktor asked, cocking an eyebrow.

  "I guess you have a point. You have my sincerest gratitude for everything. Thank you for not being cold and hostile like the rest of the Cyrino family. I haven't exactly been welcomed by them in the past."

  "I heard what they did to you. I've been in contact with them off and on, mostly during holidays or whenever they needed something from me. But I'm going to hazard a guess and say that you didn't rape that boy when you were little, did you? The blond one from the Under City who was your age? I just can't see that happening."

  Vance. He meant Vance. "No, I didn't. I would never do something like that. That boy was my friend. I was covering for him to save his life. They were going to kill him, but I made up a story to take the attention off of him and put it onto me."

  "I see. It's just like our family to jump to conclusions."

  Both men looked up as Nemo yelped and fell from the ladder. He came crashing down onto the table, spilling a bucket of green paint over the protective plastic and all over his clothes. Paintbrushes and cups of water rolled across the floor, leaving a messy trail behind them.

  "Nemo!" Rav rushed to the boy and shook him. Panic flared to life in his chest as he held the unconscious boy in his arms. He was motionless and barely breathing. "Nemo! Nemo, wake up. Speak to me. Viktor, help me. Call someone."

  Viktor knelt down beside them then pulled a thick syringe from the pocket of his yellow tuxedo and handed it to Rav. "Try this."

  The purple gelatinous glittering liquid swirled inside. Rav immediately knew what it was. "Plasma coolant?"

  "He is a robot, isn't he?"

  "You know that?" Rav asked. "How?"

  "I'm a Cyrino. I'm not stupid. Nemo is a customized computer with robotic parts in an android body."

  "That's right."

  "Inject that coolant into his neck then carry him down to my hovercar. I'll have my driver bring it around. We will take Nemo to my home and get him some specialized help."

  Rav located the artery on the side of his unconscious son's neck then slowly slid the needle into it, injecting the coolant once it was all the way in. He gritted his teeth. He hated having to do this to Nemo, but he knew he had to.

  Nemo's eyelids fluttered and a long gasp escaped between his pale pink lips.

  "Good. He's responding. Pick him up, Rav." Viktor pulled out his communicator and dialed a number. "Olaf, bring the car around, quickly. It's an emergency."

  * * *

  Tobias paced around the office in the laboratory he had been given by the Elysian government. Forced was a more accurate way to describe it. The guards at the doors, the snipers with their scopes fixed on the windows, and the electronic ankle monitor secured above his right foot proved that much. He was a slave and a prisoner, nothing more.

  He made a cappuccino with the espresso machine on top of the short bookcase and spoke to the computer on his desk. "Computer, search for a human male by the name of Rav Avery Tillman. Scan all the databases of the human colonies."

  The computerized female voice responded to him. "No results found."

  "Search again."

  "No results found."

  Tobias sipped his cappuccino and scowled in anger. "Okay, then. Search for Nemo Tillman."

  "Seven hundred and thirty-nine million results found."

  Tobias choked on his drink, sending steaming cappuccino up his nose. "Over seven hundred million? Sort the results by relevance and date, starting with the most recent ones. I need any involving the Azimandian government at the top as well as any with the following keywords: deceased, experiment, Genesis Sequence, gravity flower, Euro Brightman, Odyssia, and Krisharn X-Azimandia."

  "Sorting results according to your specifications. Estimated time of completion: ten minutes."

  "Ten minutes? That should take you twenty seconds at the most. Remind me to check your processes and internet connection after this. Piece of junk scrap metal. Unbelievable. They expect me to work in these conditions?" He lifted the cover from a plate of cheese and sliced red apples. "Cheddar and parmesan? Hardly a decent cheese platter. Uncultured imbeciles. And a 2802 Elysian chardonnay is hardly a decent vintage. Who pairs white wine with chocolate mousse and beef wellington? Call me a traditionalist, but certain things are things for reasons. Morons. Even Euro would not have accepted these squalid conditions."

  Jonathan's mocking voice came over the intercom speaker in the ceiling. "Shut up in there. Your incessant complaining is giving all of Congress a headache. We can hear everything you're saying."

  "Then now you know about these unacceptable conditions you expect me to work in."

  "You are a prisoner, not a king. We have already made numerous allowances for you that any other slave of Elysia would never even dream of receiving. We gave you an espresso machine, a cheese plate, a foot massager, a bottle of wine with crystal goblets because glass was too common for you, a leather office chair which was replaced once you decided it was fake leather, the exact sent of vanilla candles you like, and we tinted the windows in your office to the specified degree of darkness that you desired. We even exchanged all the light bulbs for ones of lower wattage because you claimed they aggravated your sensitive eyes. We have done far too much for you already. Now get to work or I will personally come down there with my shock stick and make you work like the mangy dog you are."

  "Brutality and name-calling?" Tobias scoffed, tossing his blond bangs out of his eyes. "I am no animal, Jonathan."

  "Not yet, but you will be once you are reduced to a sniveling, groveling mess at my feet."

  "And why in space would I ever do that? I am not afraid of you. There is nothing in this entire universe that would ever make me bow before the likes of you, you petulant swine."

  Jonathan snorted. "Oh? And here I thought you were a man of intellect. So soon you forget the things you claim to love."

  "Shut up. I'm not working on your pointless research. Go ahead and come torture me. At least then I will not be stuck in here playing your maid. You could do this research on your own. It is insulting to my pride that you put the grunt work on me to do. So come down here yourself, you bastard."

  "No need. I can put you in your place from right here. Escort squadron, this is President Jonathan Brightman. You are hereby ordered to eliminate Antoinette Desruisseaux's ship immediately."

  He wouldn't dare. "You're bluffing, Jonathan. You won't actually do it. You are too much of a coward."

  "Go to your computer. I have a surprise for you."

  Tobias strutted over to his desk to see the footage playing on the screen. It was from a camera on a ship where a young girl in pigtails was busy listening to music and writing in a journal in the cockpit. His heart skipped a beat. Antoinette. An alarm sounded in the ship as the lights flashed red. Tobias squinted to read the warning message on the ship's screens. Missile incoming.

  "No!" Tobias shouted up at the speaker. "Okay. I get it. You're not joking. Jonathan, this is not funny. I will do your research. I will not ask for anything else. Call off the attack. Just call it off!"

  "I'm afraid I can't do tha
t, Toby. Sometimes slaves have to be knocked down a few pegs and reminded that they are not the ones in control. Control is for the masters who hold the whips and the lives of others at their fingertips."

  "I'll submit!" He screamed at the ceiling. "I will do anything you want. Redirect the missile! Please!"

  "Get one last look at your daughter."

  Tobias covered his mouth with a trembling hand as an explosion sent fire and debris through the ship. Then the footage went dead. He fell to his knees while the realization of his daughter's violent death set in.

  Jonathan's voice filled the room again. "Now all your distractions are gone. It was your own pride and stubbornness that killed your daughter, not me. I warned you time and time again to watch your mouth and your attitude around me. At this point, I don't care if you do the research or not. All I need from you is the decoding and translation of Euro's research journal once we find it. Listen to me well, Tobias Desruisseaux. You belong to me. You are a slave. From this moment on, if you refuse to cooperate fully with my orders, you will be tortured in the most inhumane, degrading, humiliating, human rights-violating ways I can imagine until I break you. Nothing is off limits. And I mean nothing. When I get my hands on you, the devil himself will try to censor what he sees. I will break you. Until we find Euro's journal, take some time to let your punishment truly sink in. And don't try to kill yourself. We're always watching and we will intervene. You do not want us to intervene. It will not be pleasant for you. Goodnight, Mr. Desruisseaux. Enjoy your wine."

  Tobias cried out as he collapsed onto the carpeted floor, tearing at his hair in his anguish. "Fuck you, Jonathan. Fuck all of Elysia! I will kill you all with my bare hands to avenge her. Do you hear me, Jonathan? Your life is mine! Come get me, you coward. Come torture me. I dare you!"

  * * *

  Rav raced inside the polished titanium and neon-decorated entryway of Viktor's four-story mansion in the middle of Darkshot's upper class residential district. Blue and green plasma bubbled in the tubes that ran around the banisters and the stairways, emitting a dull glow over the obsidian tables and marble pedestals where priceless sculptures of stone and blown glass were displayed. Crystal bird cages hovered on disks around the main room, filled with sweetly-singing pink birds that were native to the marshes of Coal.

  "This way, Rav. Take the elevator to the third floor. That's where the plasma deionizer tube is."

  "You have one in your home?"

  Viktor pushed Rav into the glass elevator then pressed the button on the orange hologram for the third floor. "Of course. Who doesn't? All of my birds are robotic with biological bodies. Sometimes they need to be cleansed so they don't develop a sickness from all the toxins and ions in the air. Don't tell me you haven't been doing this with Nemo."

  "I . . ."

  "You were a computer engineer for CyrinoTech, but you didn't know about these ions that the plasma-cooled computers produce?"

  Rav looked down at the raspy-breathing boy in his arms. "I did, but I didn't make the connection. Do you think that's really what's happening here?"

  "Maybe. Or it could have been EMF or signal interference. That apartment building has been having some weird issues with appliances and the servers we have in the basement. Maybe some electromagnetic waves or something got to him. We'll put him in the deionizer and run a full cleanse on his body and a diagnostic scan for any viruses in his system. We'll flush the toxins and radiation from his body if we have to."

  "It can do that?"

  "It can do everything." Once the glass door slid open to the third floor, Viktor led Rav down the wood-walled hallway to the secured door at the end that was covered in multiple electronic locks and security systems. After a retinal scan, a pinprick to Viktor's finger for DNA verification, three numerical codes, and a voice identification test, the thick lead and rubber-lined door slid up into the ceiling. "This way. Excuse the mess. I was busy building a robot for a robot fighting league I've joined. I can't let my opponents get their hands on my secret weapons."

  Rav stepped around piles of gears, bundles of wires, and bottles of oil as he followed Viktor past two hovering tables that were stacked high with saws and microscopes. They stopped against the back wall where a horizontal tube filled with purple plasma was surrounded with blankets and empty coffee mugs. "Is this it?"

  "Again, excuse the mess." Viktor cleared away the mugs and the blankets, tossing them across the floor. "Sometimes I sleep in this thing when I'm deep in my work back here." He stepped up to the console on the wall next to the tube where he typed into the program. The top of the glass tube slid open and the plasma began slowly moving. "Go ahead and remove his clothes then place him in there, face up."

  Rav kissed Nemo's feverish red cheek. "I love you, buddy. Get better." He then undressed the boy and laid him into the plasma deionizer. He stepped back as the glass slid into place, creating a secured environment inside the tube.

  "I will set this to purify the toxins from his body and his computer components."

  Rav watched in slight horror as the plasma fully filled the tube, leaving no air inside the pressurized compartment. "Can he breathe in there?"

  "He's fine. This is perfectly harmless for him. Even his body is numbed. The plasma is a specialized variety that will transmit oxygen to his bloodstream through contact and absorption by his cells. He can live for days like this, but I don't think it will take that long to fix his problem."

  "What now? What do we do now?"

  "We wait and come back in an hour to see what the program has found. In the meantime, may I suggest that we head down to the parlor and have my butler bring us some refreshments? I had some candied Valmoron eels shipped in from Satra 71 this morning and a wheel of aged nilfu cheese that the Biromians love. If you haven't tried the cheese from those six-legged horse creatures, you have been missing out. Though, I suppose someone of your limited financial status would not have access to such luxuries. Come with me, Rav. Nemo will be safe here."

  "Are you sure?" Rav asked.

  "Absolutely. You have my word. No one can get through all the security in place around this room."

  With one last glance at the thin boy suspended in the tube of purple plasma, Rav went with Viktor into the elaborately-decorated hallway. Despite his worrying, this was the best thing for Nemo. It would only be an hour, after all. "Lead on, Viktor. We should probably let Nemo rest."

  "That's my man. It's not a crime to have some adult time. Do you smoke? I have some wonderful sweet cigars from Outer Elysia that are to die for. I'll even break out the expensive vodka. It's not everyday that I get the opportunity to entertain friends. Actually, it has been quite a while since I've had anyone over. It's lonely work here with no family. Now, let us enjoy the afternoon."

  Chapter 6

  Vance was deep in sleep when the banging and scraping of metal and concrete shook him forcefully out of his momentary respite and into the freezing reality that burned on his bare skin. The icy air stung in his lugs. The more concerning development that was new from before he fell asleep was the complete lack of feeling in his fingers. Well, that was something he had to look into. Before Vance could do anything for his impending frostbite, hissing voices called down from the top of the pit.

  "Prince Aveni, your father has summoned you to his throne room on Star-World Zero Alpha. This Star-World has docked already, so we need to get moving. We are lowering a rope ladder for you to climb out. Hurry up now, My Prince."

  He looked around at this suffering friends, especially Lucas. The boy had not been fully awake and lucid in two days. He had slipped into some kind of nightmarish psychotic dream state, filled with constant whimpering and the occasional screaming. Lucas needed help, serious mental help. Everyone had been trying whatever they could think of to comfort him and bring him out of the hell he was trapped in, but Lucas only sank deeper.

  He could not leave them. "If I get out of here, they come with me."

  Dallis reached over to grab Vance's arm.
"No, Vance. You're not doing well either, you know? If you can get out of here, there's a chance you can reason with your father and get us out as well."

  "But Lucas . . ."

  "I'll take care of him. He will be safe with me. Now go!"

  Vance weakly stood then grabbed onto the rope ladder. When he attempted to climb up, his knees buckled and he slid back down into the pit after only going up a couple of feet. There was no way he could make it up over ten feet on that ladder. Without food, exercise, or clean water for more than two weeks, Vance's body was shutting down. Still wracked with shivering from the frigid air, Vance looked up at the Azimandian soldiers peering down at him. "I can't climb. I'm too weak."

  "Wrap it around your arms and hold on so we can pull you up. Warlord Tirlmayn will not be pleased if you can't walk."

  Vance did as he was told. If it gave him even the slightest chance to get the others some help, he would do anything those bastards demanded of him. Whatever tortures awaited him at the hands of his own father, Vance swore that he would not give up. He had to stay strong for the Red Sand Rebels and for the universe.

  * * *

  Rav and Viktor laughed and joked on their way back up to the third floor. Alcohol and sweet cigar smoke clung to their clothes and on their breaths. Neither of them had the chance to enjoy companionship like that in quite some time. While the two men were vastly different in beliefs, economic stability, and social status, once they started drinking and discussing the newest models of computers being released in Darkshot, they became fast friends. Even though they were not directly related through blood, Rav felt that they had been family all along. What made him even happier was how much of his adoptive father he could see in Viktor, but not the father he had known. It was a considerate, empathetic and fun form of his father.

  Viktor stopped at the door at the end of the hall and began the process of going through all the security measures. "And then the bartender laughed so hard that she spilled my martini all over her blouse."