It was years before they dared set foot on the familiar ground where he had lived as a child. He had lost his virginity in that house and when he’d seen what they’d done to it, he had wept bitterly. His family, his friends – they weren’t terrorists. There was no need to make it a monument to justice, a warning to other Mutos.
Later, when Angel Free Town was his, he had the placards and gaudy “remembrance-stones” removed. He had made all of Highland Park a recreational park that families could enjoy and had named it after his step-father, the man who’d brought so much happiness to his mother. The man, he hadn’t the time to tell that he loved him. Everything had gone so fast. It was only land on the first level of the megalith that wasn’t devoted to feeding the masses. It was set aside, forever sacred, because the blood of the Keeper of the Peace had flowed there. Many might not remember why Enrique Ernando Regional Park had been constructed and, later, preserved for all time. It didn’t matter, he knew, Johan knew, Flavia knew – and that’s what was important.
I miss you mama. And, you too, Pop.
Before his writing consul, his Neuro-Nanoswarm chiming periodically for instruction, he bent down his head and wept again. It had been a long time since he had mourned the loss of his family. It had been centuries since he had dared to dredge up those terrible memories. He had forgotten what it had felt like to lose something he’d loved so much, something so fundamental to the foundation that made him. He ached to hold them, one last time, on his terms. He wished he could hold his mother’s delicate hand and see the paper-thin skin on the back of it. He longed to crush his step-father in an embrace, hold him as tight as he could. Of all things, it was their idiotic half-hug, half-wrestling squeeze he wanted the most.
The tears came hard and his sobs strong, from the middle of himself.
Lucia…
…Martín…
…He would give his entire fortune to bring them back. If it were possible, he’d give it all away…
…To smell the baby scent on the top of her head…to see his beautiful smile…
…And not see their heads explode.
It was happening again. Once more, someone – or something - had taken a member of his family. Once more, an outsider thought it fine to hurt what he loved, what he cherished. What gave them the right?!?
He stood, enraged, the marble at his feet creaking with the sudden shift of his considerable weight.
Three weeks ago, the commanding officer of what remained of Jacob’s fleet had told them of the ambush they’d flown into, of the thousands of drones that had attacked them from every quarter. He told them of the brutal, relentless assault that followed. His eyes had brimmed with tears, his shoulders hunched with shame. He had gaze up at the Keeper of the Peace and begged for forgiveness.
Estefan had reached for him, laid a comforting hand upon one of those drooping shoulders and told him, it wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t the one to blame.
The officer had shuddered under his touch. He let the Keeper finished reassuring him before he said: “That is not the whole of it, m’Lord. There was something more, something terrifying.”
When Estefan had asked, the man replied, “Something came aboard the Command Ship, horribly misshapen and rank. It was well over nine feet tall and wielded a Mutation unlike any I have ever seen.” He had whimpered, like a child! A grown man with decade’s worth of military and paramilitary training, cowered like a babe! Estefan had been shocked. “He tore people apart without even touching them. He just looked at them and they were ripped to shreds, and… and... and they kept tearing even after he had walked passed them. There was nothing left of thin strips of flesh and bone, and so much blood, everywhere.
“He would’ve slain us all if it hadn’t been for Lord Jacob. He stood before the creature and shouted for it to stop what it was doing. The creature gazed hard at him and I thought Lord Jacob was going to be torn apart like the others, but he wasn’t. He became indistinct, almost like he wasn’t there – like… like some scary apparition. He was sweating profusely, trembling too, as if he were under an incredible strain.
“The beast roared at him. It seemed frustrated, but I couldn’t tell you for sure, but that’s beside the point, because Lord Jacob began to speak. His voice wasn’t his own. It was resonant, no, that’s wrong, but was rich like the loam of good earth, like the fresh smell of the air after a solid rain. He was so compelling even the creature held fast, considering him, and the strain on my lord appeared to ease. It’s’ eyes became slitted, its’ mouth drawn in a straight line. It half-turned from us. It was obvious to me; it didn’t want to look at Lord Jacob any longer and was trying to break free of his gaze.
“My Lord took a step forward, his foot sinking into the deck of the ship a few inches before he found purchase and stepped again. The beast retreated, its’ eyes widening, barking commands it a strange ghastly tongue that sounded more like a bear growling than an actual language. From all parts of the ship, the drones had come for Lord Jacob. They were unaffected by his speech, his Mutation ineffective. They pummeled him to the ground, smashing into him with their insect-like bodies, until he faltered, his ghost-like characteristic failing him. As he became more substantial, their blows did more damage until he was bludgeoned to the floor and moved to no more. The beast came forth then barking and snarling, and the drones took my lord away. I did not see him again.
“How the creature left the ship, I cannot say. We didn’t have the time to ponder the question, for the larger drones attacked once more, en masse, and we were forced to abandon the Command Ship. We saw it explode as we jettisoned away, watching as the tremendous weapons of this newfound enemy ripped through the Diatainium alloy hull like it was paper. We saw what was left of the fleet Grav-jump to safety. Thankfully the enemy drones didn’t follow, they zipped away toward the inner Solar System, so fast we could barely understand what we were watching. We floated in space, in our lifeboats, for two days before the remnants of the fleet came back and began to round us up.” He continued to cry when he had finished.
Estefan ordered him taken to sick bay for monitoring. He was so distraught; the Keeper feared he might do something to himself.
When he’d been carted off, his wives had surrounded him. Before a single question was asked, he had spoken: “We go to Luna Prime.”
That had been three weeks ago.
He gazed out the observation window at the vast expanse of Luna Prime. He wiped his face and ran a hand over his smooth scalp, carrying away the perspiration that had coated it. Why can’t they just leave us alone? It was a miserable thought. It should’ve never entered his mind. He should’ve never expressed it. He was the Keeper after all. He was the Overlord of the Aegis Synod, god dammit!
The override alarm sounded at the entrance to his private chambers, and Flavia strode in through a throng of Aegis Marines she had left sprawling in her wake.
“Estefan, what’s wrong!?!” she demanded, her chest heaving as if she’d run the entire way.
He peered over at her wearily, through eyelids shot-through with lead.
She realized he’d been crying and froze in her tracks so quickly; she stood on her toes, the pads of her feet skidding a few inches across the marble flooring. She wore the same black colored, bio-spandex jumpsuit, covering her lithe form from neck to ankle to wrist. All of his wives were wearing the same outfit now, anticipating his next announcement.
If he said what they were anticipating he’s say, then they’d be ready.
“I finished,” He said miserably.
Flavia recovered and came to him as agile as a cat.
The marines at the portal of his bed chamber, seeing all was well, left, closing the stout doors behind them.
She hugged him briefly, and then broke free to read the last portion of what he’d written. She stood motionless; her eyes tracked each line, the Neuro-Nanoswarm’s, following the movement of her pupils, scrolled the pages for her. She didn’t have to move.
Ramona and Mena
came into the room, dressed exactly like Flavia. Leda was quick upon their heels.
Flavia continued to read, tears beginning to form at the corners of her eyes.
Tirza strode in next.
Her first tear fell to the floor. Flavia’s eyes flew across the pages Estefan had written.
Katie walked in, then Ruby.
Flavia’s hand came to her mouth. She gasped with shock. “Oh god, I had forgotten…,” she murmured to herself.
Sandy was the last, her ‘Swarm active, a cloud of intelligent processing units floating about her head. “The Fleet waits -,” she began, but stopped when she realize the whole of the Synod was present. Hastily, she waved away her Nano-comp.
Flavia turned from Estefan’s autobiography, her face streaming with tears. “It still hurts,” she muttered through a mouth overflowing with saliva, her words distorted, almost slurred.
He walked into her arms and together they wept for the murdered.
A short while later, Katie nodded to herself, then walked toward them, embracing the both of them. She rested her head on Estefan’s shoulder. Then Tirza came forth and did the same. Her actions were like a spark that awoke the rest of them. Soon, they were one great huddle of hugging bodies, swaying slightly right, and then left – right, and then left, again and again.
From somewhere in the outer ring of the human mass, Sandy asked, “The Fleet is assembled, Effy. They are awaiting your orders. What are we going to do?”
Three hundred sixty-four years prior, Katie had asked him something very similar. It had been three years after they had fled from Estefan’s childhood home, his neighborhood in flames, his parents and young siblings slain before his eyes. They had been deep underground then, all of their plans and schemes had worked. They’d become fabulously wealthy. So rich, in fact, they had procured enough firepower to take on the multi-national military forces of the Northern Intercontinental Alliance. His cousin had asked, what were they going to do, and he answered precisely, as he would many years later, on the surface of the Moon.
“The Aegis Synod will go to war.”
Back then, it had signaled the beginning of the Mutant War for Los Angeles.
Now, it was something entirely different. They were going to make war upon the Destro-Mancer. Whoever, or whatever, he was, they were coming for him. The Keeper of the Peace had gathered a force capable of destroying planets. He was done playing games. He was finished being afraid of his past. He could no longer abide anyone fucking with his family.
After all…
…What gave them the right?
~~~~~~~~~~~~♦~~~~~~~~~~~~
THE END
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HERE ENDS
BOOK ONE
OF
THE SHADOW SEED SERIES
THE MISBEGOTTEN
THE STORY OF THE AEGIS SYNOD
CONTINUES IN
BOOK TWO
ESTEFAN’S DEATH
~~~~~~~~~~~~♦~~~~~~~~~~~~
Richard Heredia was born in 1969 in the Canal Zone of Panama City, Panama. Having spent the first year of his life there, he has since moved to Los Angeles, California where he lives with his wife and children. Wanting to be a writer at a very young age, he began learning his craft through avid reading, after his mentor suggested he read as much as possible in order to learn from the best. Since that summer day in 1984, he has never stopped.
After a long hiatus, four years ago, he finally decided to sit down and commit himself to his lifelong dream of writing novels. He is the author of the first two volumes of the Saga of the Twelve’s – The Unwanted Winter and Winter’s Fury.
Aside from reading and writing, he enjoys listening to music, dancing with his babies, camping, fishing and playing the odd video game with his son.
Keep an eye out for the third volume of the Saga of the Twelve’s – The Shroud of the Lesser - due out in Summer 2014.
Richard has slated Estefan’s Death, Book Two of the Shadow Seed Series, for publication sometime in 2015.
~~~~~~~~~~~~♦~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hopefully, you been joyed The Misbegotten as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please visit the following link on Amazon and let me know what you think about Estefan and his sordid life.
http://www.amazon.com/Misbegotten-Shadow-Seed-Series-ebook/dp/B00DDTN4ZS/ref=pd_rhf_ee_p_t_1_0P4H
Thank you so much, precious reader,
Richard M. Heredia
June 2013
Shadow Seed 1: The Misbegotten Page 78