Summon (42 page)

The first drops of water from the sky might as well
have been bombs from the reaction of the squadron. Rain bounced off their
clothes and ran down their laser rifles.

Zeke and Valiant clamped their lips together. The
panic was acute, not that they let it show.

The atmosphere had been compromised by radioactive
waste. Quadrant6 was safe, but they were standing outside it on the OutRim
border, and were not in a SafeZone.

Their commanding officer barked, the clipped order
to cover their heads music to the ears.

Zeke, Valiant, and the rest of the unit pulled
their hoods, and snapped on their masks, protecting their eyes, nose, and
mouth. Harsh, relieved breathing burst through the mask’s communication unit.
The headgear stifled, but was better than acid rain soaking into the pores.

Valiant tapped Zeke’s arm twice, part of their
secret code and the operatives slyly turned the transmissions unit in their
masks onto a private frequency. The soldiers were arranged in a block
formation, and Valiant and Zeke had been quiet enough to hold a conversation, but
if they spoke without changing the transmission frequency to private, the whole
squad would overhear them. At least with their facial movement obscured by the
headgear they didn’t have to try and speak without moving their lips.

Valiant spoke first, his voice smooth and deep with
a smokiness that harmed him none when it came to picking up women. “Do you
remember what happened to the natives of the invaded territories?”

“Slavery. At the end of the twentieth extermination
was easiest.” Zeke winced. “Remember what happened to the purebloods?” He
shuddered. “The zero tolerance policy on biochemical warfare is the one thing
the Alliance has unquestionably gotten right.”

Weapons that focused on the eradication of living
organisms at a molecular level had been destroyed after what happened in the
aftermath of world war four.

At the end of the twentieth century, there was an
alarming and unexplained increase in racial hate groups. Some speculated
relaxed opinion after an enforced order from government to lighten up on
sentences for racial crimes contributed to simmering racial prejudice, and bred
a generation of repressed and confused. Young men and women with a lack of
identity who clung to the only thing recognisable to the naked eye; skin
colour.

Dirt on the graves of those who died in the last
war had barely settled before political unrest had the people in a mess.

The last of the Amazonian rainforest disappeared
and the world worried about the loss of twenty percent of oxygen-enriched land.
The rest of the world’s rainforests and jungles became a premium to fight for.

The threat of yet another campaign pushed aside
rumours of terrorization happening within civilized borders.

Racial hate groups ran shantytowns and advanced
segregation. A genetic purist insulted the leader of a group of powerful
supremacists, and after that, things got bad. There were denials the anarchy
that followed was caused by this feud, but many accepted the power struggle
between these two groups sparked the beginning of a dramatic shift in world
politics.

The weapon had been designed to destroy people of a
certain genetic composition, but mutated and destroyed all peoples with pure
genetic bloodlines.

It was the most terrifying and destructive
terrorist attack the world had seen. A third of the global population died.
Martial law was enforced, and used to set up Quarantines in infected areas.
Though the disease was targeted to pure bloods, the fear it would continue to
mutate and destroy everyone amounted to hysteria.

Even those with mixed genes who were only carriers
got locked away.

The stubborn starved to death waiting for
salvation. Those unable to handle living in Quarantine were gifted suicide
kits. They had come to realise the government would never risk the disease
mutating and spreading.

They wanted out.

People of all races fell in line after the bodies
were cleaned up, and mass cremations had black smoke burning holes in the sky.

The irony? The purists and supremacists destroyed
themselves, and in one move made mixed blood superior to the weaker pureblood
since it was more susceptible to genetic contamination.

The people left standing, aptly named the Lost
Generation, wanted peace and equality, but had to face yet another world war.
The governments tried to lay blame for the terrorist attack on each other, and
fought for the right to lay claim to the other planets in the solar system
ready for colonization made possible by new technology.

War raged on the planet’s surface and below in the
depths of ocean waters.

In the end, when three of the world’s five super
powers came together, submission was demanded from the others, and a single
government was presented to the people.

This new world order was embraced without question.

The people wanted peace. They needed a chance
rebuild what they had lost. That was exactly what the old governments gave
them.

The Alliance.

It was argued social, and economical casting had
replaced racial segregation, that the CatEyes, StarChildren, Colds, Delphians
and MainLanders were more isolated then ever before, but those people were
conspiracy nut jobs who were silenced if they got too noisy. After all, if a
family had more credit in the bank than another they would naturally be able to
live in better conditions, with quality air and food. Those with low credit
lived in quadrants that were less sterilized and overcrowded.

Zeke was dubious. Was Valiant saying the Alliance
used the people’s fear of the past to set up a fake Quarantine without
questions being asked?

They were causing panic to create a blind eye to
the most the significant event in the history of mankind; first contact with
extra-terrestrial life?

That intergalactic war was imminent?

“You’ve got me uneasy. Happy now?”

Valiant jerked his head to the glowing spaceship
not two hundred yards away. “Those aliens are a hostile force pretending to be
friendly. I overheard the General talking earlier. They have ten ships
strategically scattered across our solar system, and they got them there
without us realising it. Rather than hailing us, they used stealth tactics.
They kidnapped our world leaders who were returned looking as if they’d seen
the gates of hell. These aliens,” Valiant’s dark brows lowered, “the Novae the
General says they call themselves, have nefarious intent towards the people of
the Alliance. If they are the invaders, what does that make us, genius?”

“Natives,” Zeke answered slowly, remembering the
previous answer as to what happened to the natives of invaded lands.

“We ravaged this planet. It’s why we colonized
Mars, Neptune, and Jupiter.”

“Yeah,” Zeke said, relieved. Thinking of Neptune,
his birth planet, a pang of homesickness twisted his gut. He reminded himself
why he was proud to do his job. He kept his loved ones safe. “There’s nothing
left on Earth for them to take. They must be friendly.”

Valiant sighed. “Stars. Crack shot with a rifle,
but dumb as a brick. There is something left.”

“What?”

“Us.”

2.

Scratching
her side boob, Kali Loklear yawned and stumbled into the brightly lit kitchen.
She squinted at the morning sunlight, and her nostrils prickled at the sharp
tang of percolating coffee.

At least it was warm. Not that her toes would have
been cold, she was wearing her favourite socks, and the HeatMe was up full
blast.

She shuffled past her father pausing to kiss his
temple. Dark hair peppered with silver tickled her nose. He patted her hip
affectionately, eyes glued to his TalkMe, and the news feed scrolling across
the screen.

Kali’s voice was rough with sleep when she croaked,
“Sunshine, Papa.”

Coffee cup to his lips, Creighton’s olive eyes
flicked up. The cut of his strong jaw softened. The laughter lines carved into
his cheeks, and the charming wrinkles creasing the corners of his eyes relaxed
as he gifted his daughter with the gentlest of looks. A familial caress tinged
with wonder that showed he thought his child a miracle.

“Sunshine, princess. What mischief are you plotting
to give me gray hairs with today?”

Hopping onto the stool, Kali laid her
diamond-shaped face on the cool surface. She tucked her fisted hands into her
stomach. “Mischief? Me?” She snorted. “I have no idea what you’re talking
about. I’ll be watching HoloVids and eating leftover dumplings.”

Creighton allowed his gaze to lift to his
daughter’s face again. “Do you want me to call your father in here?”

“No,” she muttered and slouched into herself, concaving
her stomach and arching her back. Kali sat up. Smiling brightly, she attempted
to look motivated when what she wanted to do was curl up on the island and use
her father’s arm as a pillow. “Today is going to be spent trolling the
IntraWave, applying for employment and eating the bountiful tray of fruit you
see before you.”

“Stellar girl.” Creighton took a sip of the liquid
sloshing in his transparent mug. Sucking a breath through his teeth at the
bitterness, he flicked the tip of his finger across the screen of his TalkMe.
He frowned at what he read, muttering about inflation or some such.

Kali grabbed an open box of cereal and grimaced as
she shook it. As soon as she touched the box, it turned her favourite shade of
green, and an advertisement for the latest MiniComUni design flashed up.

Creighton caught the advert. “You need a new
ComUni?”

“I was browsing the other day with Max. He wanted
my opinion, my unit is standard.”

“I created breakfast for you. Check the FeedMe.”

She wiggled happily in her seat. “Yum.” Sliding off
her stool, she padded around to give him a goodly smacking kiss on the cheek.

Kali all but danced to the machine to find a trio
of golden dumplings on a pristine ceramic plate.

Her father spoiled her. She threw an adoring look
over her shoulder.

From the CoolIt, she grabbed a jar of chocolate
spread and a jug of juice already created in the MakeIt, which was great. She
hated fiddling with the settings; she never got ingredients amalgamated in the
MakeIt tasting good.

Creighton managed a veritable art form when he
created meals.

She picked up the knife thoughtfully left on the
side for her. Dipping the dumplings straight into the jar would have been her
next move, but her father would blow bosons if she did that in front of him.

She used her hip to close the CoolIt door, and her
foot to flip the FeedMe closed.

Apprehension tingled. She set the stuff down to
open the doors twice more. Hugging the food to her chest, she returned to the
island in the middle of the room. Dumping it all, she brought the juice jug to
her lips.

“Glass,” Creighton ordered without raising his eyes
from his screen.

She ignored him and puckered to swig and swallow.

“
Kali
.”

She peeked over the rim of the jug. The disapproval
was clear to see. “Howl,” she called. “Please can....”

“Stars above, do not use that FetchMe.”

She gave Creighton an exasperated look. “His name’s
Howl, Papa.”

“I’m used to calling him that. His ears are damn
sensitive. The moment you even whisper his name, even if you don’t actually
want to summon him, he comes running. I hate that.”

On cue, the Loklear’s FetchMe came scuttling around
the corner on energised mechanical legs, eager for attention. He skidded to a
stop at the threshold of the kitchen, sleek head swinging between Creighton and
Kali.

His tail whipped side to side in excitement.

The latest design in biogenetic robotics, the
FetchMe was designed with the characteristics and physical attributes of a
living organism. Having the cognitive ability of a young adult, Howl was cloned
and grown within a biomechanical womb from stockpiled animal DNA.

The companions were I considered indispensable to
HiCaste families, and recognised as honorary members.

Kali’s first FetchMe was a gift from her parents
when she was a baby, an adorable wolfhound called Fluffy who died of old age.
Left to choose the breed of the FetchMe this time, Kali had been tempted to get
a felid breed like her best friend Max, but in memory of Fluffy, she got an
Arctic wolf instead.

Howl was loyal to the family and programmed to
protect them from danger. His intelligence was considerably higher than most FetchMe
borgs because Kali didn’t see the point of creating such a beautifully
intelligent creature to dumb it down to just look pretty. Wolves were naturally
intellectual creatures, and by adding lines of genetic coding, the FetchMe had
become a friend, confidant, guardian, and genuine member of the Loklear family.

Most importantly to Kali, he had the ability to
control certain household functions.