“Ky,” Seits calls again, holding up a gorgeous orchid purple, waffle-textured, sleeveless dress that flares at the bottom. I take it to try it on.
Before a tall silver-edged mirror, I stare at myself, starting at my bare toes and moving up my long, muscular legs. Carrying my gaze from the dress’s ruffled bottom, starting mid-thigh, past the lacy fabric hugging my middle and chest, I skip over my manly arms and rest my eyes on my face. I take in the dress and then my studious expression. I crack a crooked smile, tug the band from my hair, and shake my head. Sandy brown locks waterfall past my shoulders and brush my cheeks, making my look more feminine. My smile grows wider and more comfortable with my appearance. “It’s better like this. Less like a man in a dress.”
“Give yourself more credit, Kylie. You’re beautiful!” Seits surveys me from my left, out of the mirror’s reflecting range.
“So he says,” I mutter under my breath. “It’s amazing,” I say. Flicking my gaze from the dress to Seits’s warm lilac eyes, I conclude, ‘It’ll match Marc’s eyes beautifully.’
“Do you like heels or no?”
“No heels.” I don’t know how to walk in heels. I’ve always worn boots or sneakers. I change out of the dress, walking into Seits when I exit the dressing room. She holds up a pair of black and purple plaid shoes. They match perfectly. “I’ll take them,” I cheer, bouncing on my toes. Darting my gaze away from her, I clear my throat, hating myself for just doing that. “Excuse me.”
“It’s actually beneficial to allow the people in Highrum to see us shopping and laughing,” she whispers. “They may begin looking at us as more than mindless killing machines.”
I scoff, “I guess they’ll see us as happy mindless killing machines.” I take the shoes, and with the dress slung over my arm, I go to the counter. “Hi,” I greet the cashier.
“Hello, is this all for you?” The cashier flips her chestnut colored hair over her shoulder. I nod. “Creation number for the account I can charge your purchase to?”
“Two six seven. Kylie Alexander.”
“Do you have your identifier?”
Obviously. But maybe she asked to be polite. I lift my arm and show her the three embellishment lines circled around my wrist, allowing her to scan it. It beeps twice, and my name shows across her computer screen.
“Thank you, Kylie. You have made an excellent purchase today. You are all set, come again soon.” She smiles. It twitches, likely from discomfort.
“Thank you.” I grab my bag. We’re leaving the boutique, and since Seits has opened herself up, I risk asking, “What size do you think Marc wears?”
She thinks momentarily, strolling at my side. “He’s about five-eleven, maybe six-foot, in height. I know his weight is one hundred ninety-five pounds. If you’re looking to purchase clothing for him, you can provide that information along with his body type to an associate, and they may be able to figure his sizes for you.”
“Thank you.” I test the boutique two stores down. Luckily, I’ve made the right choice. A slim girl, standing about my height, with deep red hair cut like Luke’s greets, “Welcome to News Crews! Can I help you find your next purchase today?”
I describe Marc’s body to a T, slightly embarrassed that I know it so well.
“Okay,” the associate says. “I think I can help, and maybe you can try a couple of sizes just in case.”
“Thank you,” I tell her. She returns with a few different colored shirts and jeans in different sizes. This must be the best way to shop. Tell someone what you’re looking for, and they gather it and bring it to you to take your pick. Stress free, swiping through fabrics. Shopping is not an activity I usually like to partake in. “I’ll take the collared black shirt with dark blue jeans.” I’m falling short on his outfit wish, missing the sneakers, but I don’t know what size shoe he wears. I’m not that well acquainted with his feet to guess at it.
The associate grins. “Okay, I’ll get a few sizes that may work and bring them to the counter.”
“Thank you,” I say, pleased with her speed. She quickly bags my items, and we’re out the door.
Shopping with Seits isn’t as bad as I thought it’d be. She keeps up a pleasant conversation, and I walk beside her, holding my bags. We go back to our rooms, splitting up at the hall where she turns off to head to her own room.
I enter, seeing Luke lie across the bed, face down. He snores, seeming dead to the world.
Idiot got drunk. I told this silly boy not to do that!
“Luke,” I call loudly after I’ve packed the new clothes in my bag. “Luke,” I call again. He doesn’t flinch—out cold. We have another hour before we must go, and he is not going to be ready.
“Luke!” I smack his shoulder.
“What is it, Ky?” he grunts. “Shut up.”
“You need to start getting ready. It’s almost two.”
“I don’t feel like it, Kylie.”
“Come on, Luke, don’t be a baby.” I pull his leg. “Get in the shower so you can sober up. I’ll put it on for you.”
Chapter Thirty-One
In a large, oval-shaped room in the center of the Guidance headquarters, the Premier and primary Guidance leaders of the America sit, gazing at the podium, awaiting its speaker. Richard strides in through a door on the opposite end of the room. A black robe drapes his shoulders, and his stoic expression makes him unreadable.
He approaches the podium and says, “As most of you know, there has been a threat put forth against Earth from the Vojin. We have discovered there are implants amongst Creations that are slowly being weeded out. Because of how difficult it is to crack a Creation, you may imagine the challenge our Creation leaders are encountering. There have been tests extended to suspected Creations. These tests have revealed several Creations who were implanted by the Vojin. However, what we are trying to figure out is how they were implanted by them. Creations are created by our scientists,” he shouts, slamming his hand on the glass structure. “This must mean they are being implanted after birth, and our suspicions should start with the Breeder!”
“Start with the Breeder?” A young man with a pointy chin and small, pecan-shaped eyes folds his hands on top of the black twenty-foot table.
All the Guidance leaders wear black robes, and before them, on the table, sits a black tablet with images of a Creation boy next to one of the Vojin.
Richard says, “Breeders may be welcoming the invaders and offering Creation infants to the Vojin as willing implants. Possibly like the Non-Creations offer their children to Separation. It’s possible they, too, may be implants.”
The same young man lifts his hand as he asks, “What will they gain by offering their children to the invaders to be implanted in Separation?” I try to catch a glimpse of his name tag, but with his current angle, it’s impossible.
“That is a question we would also like answered.” Richard takes a sip from a glass filled to the rim with water, and he carefully sets it back down without spilling a drop. A large screen behind him that stretches from one side of the wall to the other reads, We are the BETTER. And they honestly believe this. “We designed Creations for their longevity, to live without fear of death or uncertain outcomes, to achieve what someone like you and me would consider impossible. We fight today to keep our creation of the specimen a secret from the other countries who try to get their hands on the Creation blueprint. There are a number of reasons why others would want to use Creations. Why would you, Mr. Conroy?” he asks the young man. “And please introduce yourself to the room.”
Mr. Conroy stands with a soft smile that makes him appear friendly, arms resting at his sides. “Good afternoon,” he greets, looking from one end of the table to the other. We are lucky enough to stand. We must stand the entire time as proud Creations while they discuss us as if we are things and not people. “I am Peter Conroy, Breeder Guidance Leader, first in the America. I would think the Vojin would want the Creations because of their strength and because they manage the citizens o
f the America. If you are a leader, people will follow you, may this be by trust or fear. Creations are looked upon as leaders, either respected or feared. Either way, people do what they say, and that is what matters. That must be why they want Creations.”
“I agree with you, Peter Conroy,” Richard says with a nod in his direction, and Peter sits. “This assumption would also scare us into destroying the Creations. If they are a threat to us and possibly a gold mine for our enemies, we would need to eliminate them.” Luke, Jord, Seits, and I stand, unfazed by the conversation, although they must be thinking the same thing I am. You stupid Normals, we’re right here, stop being assholes!
A woman with dark, straight hair chuckles at the statement. “We couldn’t eliminate the Creations. Number one, that would leave us defenseless. Secondly, there are reasons behind why they were created. Their influence on the America and the citizens is extraordinary,” she says. She sits at the head of the table, facing away from us. Because we are standing at Richard’s feet, I can’t see her face. Her shiny black hair is slicked back and almost camouflaged by her black robe. “The problem is not the Creations,” she continues. “The issue is the threat. We have no need to fix what is not broken. We need to fix what poses as our destruction and holds a threat to us and the Creations. Should their intent be to make Creations our enemies in hopes we would eliminate them, their greater motive may be for us to eliminate our defense. So let’s stop talking about Breeders and Creations and begin finding out how to fix the problem.”
“How do you suppose we do that?” Peter asks.
The woman nods. “They have come here often. Should we go there?”
Peter scoffs, and a few around the table match the dismissive sound. “We couldn’t go there. We have no idea where they live or how they are equipped.”
“What we should be focusing on, besides the Creations being implanted by the Vojin or figuring out how we are even going to get there,” Arletta begins, “is why they have put forth this threat and what it is they think they possess that’s better than what we have already implemented.” She takes a deep breath and carries on. “Everything we have done is by the book. When they came before, they mentioned something about our way of living and mindset. With them posing a threat to the world by turning humans into the undead, they are worse than us in every way. We’ve followed their rules in taking care of our land; we’ve done right by their requests, but we will not stand by while some alien forces their way on us. We never agreed to this, and this is invasive. They are turning into the beings they swore they’d protect us from.”
I agree with her. The Vojin do not have the right to suggest what should be destroyed or kept intact. I would also like more information about their plan of reconstruction. They said something about needing four. I know they will need humans, and Luke and I were considered two of the four. If they destroyed the world, the Earth’s population would be destroyed. Which means they would try to reestablish it, to rebuild the land and maybe the population. Luke and I along with two others would be responsible for doing that? Why? Why choose us? I would prefer to go down in the destruction.
Chatter grows into ruckus as everyone tries to talk over one another. Richard has joined in, shouting from his podium to someone on the far end of the table, whose idea is to deploy missiles into the sky and hope they hit the Vojin. People stand up at the table, shoving their fingers at one another, getting rowdy. I can’t understand any of them at this point.
“Hey,” I shout. A hush falls over the room, and all their gazes pin on me. “Sit down! Only one person can talk at once!”
“Thank you, Kylie Alexander,” Richard says, looking down from the podium. He gives me a nod. I’m grateful he approved, and I’m not reprimanded for speaking out of turn. They were getting out of hand. “We all have questions that do not yet have answers. We can’t―” He gasps. Others follow as we all take notice of the green and blue lines of particles quickly blowing into the room through the doors and windows. My hand flies to my gun, like the others. We retrieve our weapons as the thick dust-like particles circle near the ceiling before diving to the floor, separating into five pits.
The Vojin rise and solidify. One says, “When we are the topic of discussion, we would like to be present.” The five Vojin, all male, look toward the podium, three feet away from Richard.
They are lined up, side by side, and the third Vojin from the left speaks. “It is courtesy,” he states.
Richard says, “If you were giving answers to questions and not threatening humanity as a whole, you may have been offered the proposition. Please excuse yourselves so we may continue our discussion.” Unlike many faces around the table, Richard stands at his podium, fearless as he speaks to the Vojin. A stern tone makes his voice hard and assertive, and the stoic expression is a clear indication he’s been trained well.
“When have any of your beings tried to contact us?” The Vojin asks. “No one has tried to make contact with us. We’ve waited.”
Richard nods. The Vojin must be right. “Answer a few questions today then.”
“We are willing to answer any and all questions you may have.” Just because the Vojin agree to answer their questions, this doesn’t mean the questions will be answered truthfully.
Arletta walks onto the stage and stands at the podium next to Richard. Her petite frame straightens as she draws her shoulders back. She licks her red painted lips and says, “Why have you all threatened humanity?”
“You all have threatened your own humanity. You murder your own kind, destroy your life source, and treat the ground you walk upon like the trash you burn. The atmosphere of your Earth is crumbling, and there is no care for it. Your people run about murdering, stealing, and enduring the evil of your land. Why not have it destroyed so we can bring forth a better living?”
“What gives you the right to take out an entire planet?” Arletta asks.
“We have received acceptance of our proposal from the Maker. He provided permission to enforce our change.”
“No one speaks to the Maker!” Richard shouts angrily.
“We speak to the Maker,” The Vojin on the far right states. Unlike the other Vojin we’ve encountered, they don’t introduce themselves and they don’t sound familiar.
Arletta whispers in Richard’s ear. He nods. “What will you do after your change?” he asks calmly, making air quotes as he utters the word.
“We will reconstruct it. Teach the new occupants a better way to live.”
They will rule the world and have the humans be their slaves as they’re taking over another planet. That’s what I believe.
“What are you gaining from this?” Arletta asks dryly, a bored expression causing her once furrowed brows to relax. It seems she doesn’t believe them either.
“We have been protecting Earth for years. You all need a change. We are gaining nothing but the title of being the reason why the Earth will be better than what it is today.”
“Why have you implanted Creations with your misty residue?” Arletta asks.
The Vojin look at each other, heads turning as their bodies remain still. “They will help convince the humans to side with us when we implement our plan. You all have created an amazing type of human that we happen to need at our disposal. However, they will not be needed in the future of the Earth’s reconstruction.”
“I see,” Richard says with a nod. “Is there any way we can get you to change your mind about the destruction? Anything we can offer you?”
The Vojin doing most of the talking steps out of their line. “Remember my name. Soval. I am leader of the Vojin race. Here this from my mouth.” He pauses and turns around, looking at everyone in the room. Each Guidance leader he makes eye contact with jumps, except Arletta and Richard, who remain unfazed by his intimidation. To Richard he says, “We want to enforce a new set of laws. To enforce a better order that does not involve the loss of life lessening the already lowered population. We will institute a better way to resolve issues
that does not involve wars and loss of lives. If we cannot have order over the humans, there is nothing you can offer us, and nothing to discuss.”
Richard and Arletta whisper back and forth to each other for a few minutes, then they turn back to Soval saying, “Then it is settled. You all can leave.”
The Vojin sink into their pits of fusing particles and blow out of the room the same way they blew in.
“Protectors of Earth,” a man blurts out. “That is preposterous!”
“We can’t stand for this,” another man says louder.
Everyone’s yelling again, expressing their disapproval for the Vojin.
Richard raises his hands and slowly lowers them as though to decrease the volume of the angry Guidance leaders. “We will not stand for this. We will fight back as we have fought back anything and anyone who has posed a threat toward us.”
“How?” a woman shouts. “How will we fight back?”
Personally, I doubt any of the people in this room will be fighting anything. The loosely used we is upsetting. They should be asking how they―the Creations―will fight back. Because it will be us who will be fighting the Vojin. The humans, they are too afraid to fight. They fear what they don’t know and what they cannot understand. They fear what they don’t believe they can defeat. For us, even if we cannot defeat all of them, we will defeat most of them. That is why I’m going. I don’t need to murder them all, but enough to compensate for the death of my parents.
“We will get back to you about that. For now, peace amongst each other for peace within our citizens. Enjoy your evening, and we will see you tomorrow evening for the Premier’s birthday celebration.” Slowly, everyone stands and leaves. We wait around for them to exit the room and be dismissed by Richard.
Richard and Arletta walk to us. “Would you all like to accompany us to dinner?”
We nod, and Jord responds, “We would.”
“Great,” Richard says with a smile. “We will have someone bring your clothing to your rooms. Give you a break from your suits.” He pats Luke’s shoulder.
Salient Invaders: A Young Adult Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Series (The Separation Trilogy Book 2) Page 24