Dominion Rising: 23 Brand New Science Fiction and Fantasy Novels

by White, Gwynn

  The woman screamed and moaned in agony. Despite the best efforts of the medical team, the baby continued to turn completely around until it was obvious that this was going to be a breach birth.

  The obstetrician gave sharp orders for everyone to prepare for C-section. Natalie was put under anesthesia, her stomach cut open and the baby delivered.

  I teared up. I hadn’t expected to feel so emotional.

  I was witnessing the birth of one of the very first babies of our kind anywhere in the universe. This was the beginning of a new era.

  The infant was tiny: only four pounds six ounces. He was pale green and covered in mucus and blood. The paleness is true of all newborns, as the pigment comes in later. No one knows exactly how green a child’s skin will be until later in its first year of life. The eventual shade has absolutely no connection to the strength of the photosynthetic process.

  After the delivery, Waylon and I were to go to the baby nursery and peer through the window at the newborns.

  It was a bit overwhelming, standing there observing the first generation of photosynthetic children. They were absolutely beautiful with their soft green skin and baby blue eyes.

  All the mothers had been told their babies died in childbirth. Natalie had been told that her son died when the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck and strangled him. The baby had been whisked away before she woke from anesthesia.

  I wasn’t there for that part.

  It seemed unusually cruel. Prejudice based on skin color was so extreme back then, scientists believed the only way to protect the first generation of green children was to raise them in total isolation on a secret island far from the rest of civilization. No one outside the scientific community, not even their birth mothers, were to know that they existed.

  12

  Our first mission had been designed to show us the beginning of our kind. It was meant to show us what we were time traveling for: to protect the entire future of the human race from extinction.

  The next mission was meant to make an indelible impression on us, to teach us that we needed to be extremely careful. We were TTA time travelers. We’d be time traveling until we were too old to continue. However, in every instance where we journeyed backward to eras before our kind came into existence, we were going to be viewed as aberrations. There was no limit of aggression in people’s genes back then. Anyone perceived as too different, as strange, became a threat that unleashed dangerous levels of aggression, often leading to violence and murder. This happened even in circumstances where an unusual person was believed to have extraordinary powers. In the case of the albinos of East Africa, for example, people wanted to own parts of them for magical potions. Their skin was pure white. Personally, I could barely tell the difference between the albinos and people with pale skin. Many of the pale people were featured in fashion magazines of the time, and yet albinos were considered freaks. The message was drummed into our heads: If albinos were freaks, anyone with green skin would be considered subhuman at best, non-human at worst. Once you were deemed non-human, anything could be done to you. If we were caught by the wrong people, we’d most certainly be tortured, mutilated and killed.

  The location of the mission to which Waylon and I would be assigned was the landmass that had been named the United States of America, also referred to as the U.S.A. or U.S., shortly after their Civil War of 1861 to 1865. Other teams would be going to East Africa and other parts of the world where they’d learn the same lesson as us.

  Waylon and I would be traveling back in time to the state of Mississippi in the southern U.S. We were to show up a few days before the hanging of several people with dark brown skin. We were to see up close the kind of thing that could happen to us if we weren’t careful. We were also supposed to use our empathy to figure out if we could reveal ourselves to anyone in this particular moment of time and, if so, to do it. On future trips, we’d be interacting with people in medical procedures designed to get their DNA. None of this was to be done by force. We’d need to make them our allies working toward a common cause. We’d need their cooperation.

  This second trip back in time was as difficult as the first. Once again, we traveled through many locations where our ship folded space-time to make coordinates from one era touch those from another era, so that our pod could hop across. Nausea was so bad this time, I feared I’d throw up. So many sights and sounds and languages flooded my mind, I could barely stay oriented as to where I was and what I was supposed to do. I made myself concentrate on the letters TTA—to remind myself that I was on a mission from there, that that’s the place where I had a deep, ongoing connection. I was just passing through the other points in space-time.

  Finally, we landed. The instruments and outside cameras showed that we had ended up exactly where we had planned: in an isolated forest next to a lake. Back then, it was much easier to find uninhabited areas right next to settled ones. There was a lot of wild land where people weren’t as likely to show up and discover our pod. We turned on the camouflage cover, so that no one would see it from a distance.

  We spent two days recovering, same as we’d done on our first extended mission. Then we ventured out. We dressed as ourselves. This time, we were supposed to hide and observe, so we didn’t need any kind of disguise. We were green. We’d be wearing our form-fitting green suits. Our instructions were to try to blend in with trees, plants, anything green if we were in danger of being caught.

  Waylon and I walked around the lake. It was a beautiful place. The sky was bright blue and filled with enormous white clouds. The water sparkled with the light of the sun. Every once in a while, a fish broke through the lake surface, then splashed back down into the watery depths. The world was filled with sound: birds singing and calling to each other, insects buzzing.

  Waylon walked to the edge of the lake, dipped his hand into the water and splashed it around. He said, “You should try this. It’s refreshing.”

  I did what he suggested and found the water to be cool. It made me feel alive, helped further my recovery from the trip.

  Waylon said, “Wouldn’t it be wonderful to live near something like this back home? We’re totally cut off from the rest of the world at the TTA.”

  I commented, “The rest of the world is dying, though. We’d never find anything like this. It no longer exists.”

  Waylon said, “We should enjoy it while we’re here. We should go swimming tonight.”

  I agreed. That would be wonderful. I looked around. We were totally isolated, other than the birds and fish and insects.

  At that moment, a deer stepped out of the woods. I’d only ever seen this beast in pictures. In our time period, they were extinct. This was a buck—tall with a majestic set of antlers. He pointed his snout in our direction, no doubt sniffing our body odor on the wind. We must have smelled different than all the other humans he’d ever come across. Did he wonder what we were? He looked directly at us, taking us in. We stared back. Then he turned and leapt over some branches, disappearing into the woods.

  Waylon laughed. “That was incredible! We’re going to be able to see so many things from the past, things that no longer exist. I wonder how far back we can go. Wouldn’t it be amazing to go back to the point in time when Earth first came into existence?”

  I said, “I wonder if there’s a beginning to time and an instance before that. What would that be like—to go back to the very moment before time came into existence?”

  Waylon thought about that for a second, then said, “I’d bet it would be dangerous crossing over into that realm. I’m guessing we’d be leaving the entire fabric of space-time. There’d be the risk of disappearing into nothingness. Although chances are our current ships wouldn’t even be able to go there because there wouldn’t be any space-time coordinates to fold together in the period before time.”

  I said, “If we’re thinking about this, so is the TTA. You know they’ll try to send a team there eventually.”

  Waylon said, “I’d volunteer
to go. That would be the ultimate learning experience.”

  I joked, “Well, it might be your last learning experience before you turned into the time traveler who never existed.”

  Waylon laughed. “No. If that happens, I want to be called The Time Traveler Who Stepped Out of Time, not the one that never existed.”

  I said, “I’ll make sure that goes on your plaque in the TTA Memorial Building.”

  We decided we’d better get going. We brought maps up on our contact lenses, showing us the way to the place we were supposed to observe.

  A civil war had just ended in the United States. I had wanted to go back and study that, but the TTA felt they weren’t ready to handle the difficulties of sending travelers into a war zone and bringing them back safely. We’d have to wait until more missions were run and experience accumulated.

  Our maps led us through the woods and past a flowing stream. It was clear as glass. It made a singing sound as it navigated its way over rocks and around obstacles. We crossed over it at one point, using a thick fallen tree trunk as a bridge. I marveled at the constant chatter of insects and birds. I swatted away tiny gnats and flies. They were incredibly annoying. I finally understood why previous generations had devised all kinds of methods for eliminating them.

  Eventually, we came to the edge of the woods. Looking around, making sure no one was around, we stepped onto private property. According to our maps, this was our destination.

  We heard an animal make a whinnying sound in the distance. A horse! I knew that from my studies. I’d heard it before on temporary ear chips, the ones that hook over your earlobes and send the information directly to your brain.

  Waylon and I looked at each other and smiled. In a quiet voice, he said, “Do you hear that? We should go find it. I’d love to see a horse. There’s nothing else for us to observe right now.”

  He was right. The hanging would eventually take place at the tree in the middle of the yard between us and the house. Nobody was there now.

  Sticking to the edge of the forest that surrounded the property, we walked until we spotted a barn. Then we moved stealthily forward, trying not to make any quick movements that might attract the attention of someone looking out a window of the large plantation house.

  Finally reaching the barn, we slipped in through an open door and moved into the shadows. There were men of dark brown color working in there. They were grooming horses and cleaning out the stalls.

  The horses were magnificent. A man patted the muscular side of one. It whinnied and shook its long slender neck. These horses were especially beautiful: healthy-looking with shiny coats of hair.

  We crept into a corner behind machinery and listened. We’d seen the horses. We continued to watch the interaction between men and beasts.

  A tan-skinned man entered the barn and shouted, “Is she ready?”

  One of the men who had been placing a saddle on the back of a horse said, “Yes, suh,” and trotted out the animal. The man who had made the request climbed onto the horse’s back. He grabbed the reins, squeezed the sides of the animal with his legs and leaned forward. The animal started walking. When they were out of the barn, it picked up speed. I decided that if it were ever safe for me to do it without getting caught, I’d love to try riding a horse.

  The dark-skinned man walked over to another. He said, “How bad she hurt dis time?”

  I thought they were referring to the horse. I knew people weren’t supposed to ride horses when they’d been injured. Horses sometimes had to be killed in order to put them out of their misery. If they were talking about the horse that just left the barn, however, it looked fine.

  I soon realized they were talking about a person. We listened to their conversation.

  “We can’ leave now.”

  “We gotta leave tuhnigh’. Dey comin’ tuhnigh’. She be bettuh off leavin’ when she hurt dan not leavin’ at all. I don’t know when we get a chance like dis again. You know massuh never gonna set us free, don’t matter tuh him what da gov’ment says.”

  “Go see her. Talk tuh her. Do it fas’, bafuh massuh come back or his wife go check on her.”

  “Missus ain’t gonna check on her. Mary his property, not hers. And you know she want Mary dead. She jus’ as soon leave her tuh bleed tuh death. She gots tuh be sick o’ him sneakin’ off ev’ry night tuh go find Mary, comin’ back smellin’ o’ her. And now wid duh baby on duh way…”

  “Aw right. I go talk tuh her…”

  We snuck through the shadows to a side door and let ourselves out. Then we watched to see where the man was going.

  He walked down a hill and into a small building made from logs. After he came back out and returned to the barn, we made our way down to the log cabin. On this mission, we were to figure out who we could trust to reveal ourselves to. We thought it sounded like a slave had been hurt. It also sounded like her owner had been having sex with her and she was pregnant. This was right after the Civil War when slaves had technically been made free people by the U.S. government. Not all slaves had a way to leave the plantations, however, or a job to go to. And many owners made it difficult for them to leave.

  We figured this woman might be willing to talk with us. And if she reported us to the plantation owner, he’d never believe her. He’d think she was crazy.

  Waylon peeked through a small dusty window in the back of the cabin. He said, “There’s definitely a woman in there.”

  I asked, “Do you see anyone else?”

  He said, “No. What should we do? Just go inside?”

  I said, “Yes. I sense that she needs help, but won’t open the door herself.”

  Without another word, Waylon tried the doorknob. It turned easily. He pushed the door open and we both stepped inside. Quietly, he closed it behind us and placed a chair against it to keep people out until we were done.

  The woman didn’t notice us. She was lying in bed, facing away from us. She was moaning loudly and crying.

  She had dark brown skin, the color of the slaves in that space-time. We’d guessed that correctly.

  The room smelled of blood and sex and something else I couldn’t identify.

  I approached the bed. The woman was wearing a white nightgown soiled with blood. It had soaked through from her back. There was so much blood, I’d wondered if she’d been shot. From what I knew of the time period, however, I assumed she’d been whipped. The cloth appeared stuck to her skin.

  I looked at Waylon. There was concern in his eyes. He nodded at me. I interpreted that as agreement that I should address the woman.

  In as soft and gentle a voice as I could manage, I said, “Mary?”

  The woman rolled over, pushing against all the pain that sudden motion must have caused her. Her knee caught in her gown and pulled against the cloth on her back. It must have ripped away skin as she did that. There was complete terror in her eyes.

  I felt badly that we had frightened her.

  It soon became apparent, however, that she wasn’t afraid of us. She must have expected another woman. Perhaps the wife of the plantation owner. I wondered if this woman had at different times been whipped by both of them.

  In a hoarse voice, she said, “Mah prayers been answered. I prayed fuh you tuh come.”

  I asked, “Who did you pray for, Mary?”

  “Fuh mah guardian angel. God sent two angels. I prayed and prayed and prayed.”

  I wondered how she saw us. Their pictures of guardian angels looked nothing like us. They had light tan skin. Ours was green. They had regular eyes. With our contact lenses in, we looked like beings with enormous black eyes. Angels were depicted with beautiful white wings. We had no wings and were unable to fly. Angels usually had golden hair. We were bald with green scalps. And we certainly didn’t have a golden glow surrounding us.

  Unless Mary was suffering from fever or delirious from pain. I wanted to ask how she perceived us, but then was not the time. It seemed best to go along with her interpretation and pretend to be angels.
No one would go looking around for angels, even if people did believe they had appeared to her.

  I said, “Mary, you’re hurt…”

  She said, “Help me. Please. I wid child. It prob’ly massuh’s child. I had two by him bafouh and dey was ripped from mah arms soon as dey weaned, and sold as slaves. I want dis baby tuh have a bettuh fate.”

  I asked, “How are you hurt? What’s wrong exactly?”

  Mary said, “I’m sick tuh mah stomach an’ throwin’ up from bein’ pregnant. But I been whipped, too, and I think it’s infected. I’m hot, den cold. I had a fever since yestuhday.”

  I said, “May I see your back?”

  She said, “Yes.”

  I nodded to Waylon to give us some privacy. He walked behind a wardrobe and busied himself with something. I heard him moving objects around, probably studying them.

  Mary tried to lift her nightgown up, but started crying. She said, “I cain’t do it mahself. Da pain’s too much.”

  I said, “I can help you. Just tell me if I need to stop.”

  Mary lifted the nightgown above her knees and knelt on the bed. She said, “Go on den.”

  I took the bottom edge of her nightgown in my hands. Slowly, I lifted it up to her shoulders. She winced a number of times, but let me do it.

  Her back was the most gruesome thing I’d ever seen. It was covered with blood and pus and clear fluid from areas that looked like burst blisters. Deep red lines ran like rivers across her back. They ran in all directions, crisscrossing each other like nature had gone mad and lost its way. Pus oozed out from some of those lines. There were patches where skin had been torn off her back and places where threads from her gown had adhered.

  I knew that I could heal her wounds if we could get her to our ship.