There was once a planet populated by genetically perfect people. They lived in peace until an accidental discovery, on a distant moon, unearthed an alien weapon that threatened to destroy them all. We are telling their stories.

Thursday, May 16, 2013

Deviations and Divinations


Deviations and Divinations

     While watching Elias' image on the Unabox, Sanchez realized what his recently acquired gut feeling had been telling him. Onscreen, Elias’ likeness said, “Sorry, Emilio.  There's one thing I realized in this whole mess:  You and I are not the same.  You are weak and you focus too much on what is now going through your brain.  I, on the other hand, don't have time to think about this and that.  I want to get off this rock, go home, and screw something.  I don't even care what it is but I'm not going to be like Artemis and take my urges out on a Noman.  I'm better than that.  So, as I was saying, I've alerted Captain Raemus to your situation and while he is correcting you - and your blubbering - I will be on the fast track home.  I would send you a message while  I'm relaxing in the Recreational Grid...but you won't be here to receive it.  Thanks for everything, Emilio.”
      The Unabox blipped to a white line running the diameter of the black screen. Elias had betrayed him! Sanchez’s stomach twisted and heaved. He was alone in the quiet of this sector. The cold stilerium halls reverberated with Elias’s last words and the whirring sound of the Unabox as it ended its transmission. He sat there and stared into space, listening to the echoes bounce off of him. They bounced through the hallways, the heavily barred Arches, and all the way around the octagonal sector back to Sanchez. He suddenly, and violently, jerked out of his daze. That son of a bitch.
    “That SON OF A BITCH!” cried Sanchez. He jumped up and looked around frantically. Sanchez was losing control. He didn’t think that Elias would betray him. To make matters worse, Elias’s image had seemed...different. It was if he had somehow become twisted in the brain. Since when did he care about going home?  What the hell was home, anyway?"  Sanchez stared into space for a few moments and became lost in his thoughts.
      Sanchez had been staring into space a lot during the past few weeks. Thinking was something that tantalized him. He had a weird feeling in his gut that said something had happened here at Dome Calimbus. He was beginning to second-guess himself - and that was a host of problems weaving in and around each other.
      “Well, my last gut feeling was right,” he said to himself, casually.
“How the hell do I even know what it’s called?? He pulled at his short hair in frustration.  "This is definitely not good. That much I know…besides the name of this feeling!! What the hell is happening to me?!” he shouted. The shiny halls spoke back to him in his own voice. They weren’t helping.
       Sanchez digested this summary of events and felt a wave of prickly goosebumps awaken across his shoulders and arms. He knew Raemus would definitely hunt him down, haul him off to Genetia to face the Council, and then he would be corrected.
       Emilio Sanchez’s brain snapped back to his current situation. He looked both ways down the slick, silvery halls and wondered what he was going to do. If someone was going to come, they’d have to be an Elite Officer or Driver. Only the Officers and Drivers had access to Driver sectors.  The Genetian Elite Officers, or simply Elites, were created to coordinate operations on Driver Outposts, as well as ensure no genetic deviations went unchecked.  The Drivers, however, ensured the health and maintenance of the Nomans - which were the Council's property.  Everything was the Council's property.
      Sanchez felt his utility belt for his Driver Key. He plucked it from the cinch-latch and looked at it closely.  This key was similar to Optikeys, only the security level was lower.  Optikeys had been invented by the Council hundreds of years ago. There were three Genetian Officers for each Noman Driver Outpost and each owned an Elite Optikey that, when separated from the body’s electrical field, ceased to operate. When it shut down, it also deactivated every other Optikey on the Outpost, including the other two Officer keys. This acted as an alert system of sorts. Optikeys were swung rapidly in circles shortly before use, unlike typical keys. The centripetal force of the swinging generated power for the energy cells inside.
      Sanchez ran to the sector Arch, using it without whirling it, and passed it under the scan device.
“Two seconds, Red.”
“Three seconds, Blue.”
“One second, Green.”
“Click-Clack. Open Sesame,” whispered Sanchez.
      Sanchez had started humming this to himself over the last two weeks but he didn’t know why. He was doing a lot of things now that he had never done  before. He rubbed his temples, trying to massage away the migraine that he knew was coming. They’d been happening a lot lately, and for some reason, he was afraid to do anything about them. One thing he would do something about was getting off of Dome Calimbus before Raemus came for him.

---

     Gellar Elias chuckled to himself as he turned off the Unabox. Gellar’s laugh was distinct. It was a disarmingly high-pitched chuckle, more like a giggle. He looked at his reflection in the stilerium walls that formed his floor of the sector. He leaned back in his chesk, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply.
      It was too bad about Sanchez. They had worked well together until they found that ancient cave on Titan. It sparked something inside them - deep inside them. Soon after Emilio would stop talking about his "feelings".  Elias soon realized that feelings weren’t supposed to happen. They were a deviation in genetic programming and were meant to be corrected. But despite behavioral protocol, he had had such a pleasant sensation from watching a another person experience fear for the first time. It pleased him that he knew a secret. He felt that this made him different and it emboldened him. He remembered his initial reaction when Sanchez started to talk about how he felt like he was changing. Elias was changing too, but wasn’t about to jeopardize his life over it. He had decided that the only thing to do was to convince Sanchez that he needed to be corrected. Sanchez had disagreed and tried to hide it from Raemus and the other Officers, but he was unable to keep it together. It was a good thing, though. Emilio Sanchez' emotional awakening had not only assured Elias a perfect diversion but it would give him the chance to get to Genetia unscathed. He would be the first Driver to deviate from genetic programming and escape his servitude.  He liked that. It gave him a sense of individuality. Until recently, Elias had never even thought about individuality.
     Gellar Elias was an excellent specimen of the Genetian race. He was tall, stout, intelligent, and good looking - just like the rest of the Genetians. His hair was gray and closely cropped.  His eyes were parallelograms of gray and his face was sharp and angular. His shoulders were wide and solid, which matched his other anatomically perfect proportions. The only part of Elias that one might consider odd was his skin.  During his gestation period, his skin had been created using multiple concentrations of melanin, so the pigmentation of his skin was many different shades of flesh. It was as if he was spotted with different colors of fleshtone acryl paint. However, when compared to the average Driver, Elias was quite normal looking. This skin mottling was the same in every Genetian and performed well as a means if visual identification.
      He reclined and planned his ride home on a Windsol Airship.  There was no need for a disguise since no one on the ship would notice who he was.  It couldn't be any easier!  Elias remembered Raemus commenting on the air chairs on the Windsol - that the seats would conform to one's body, even the wrinkles in the clothing.  It was said to be like reclining on air.  Though Drivers normally didn't ride on Windsols, none of the crew would be paying attention to him.  They wouldn't be paying attention to anything but what they were supposed to.  “I am one lucky bastard,” Elias sighed to himself. “I’ve managed to fool Kadrin, Anderson, Captain Raemus, and I’ll slip by the Council on Genetia.” He grinned and thought about how significant he would be in the annals of Genetian history.  Unlike Emilio Sanchez - the weakling deviation.  For decades, The Council of Genetia had required any deviation from genetic mapping to be reported so that the defect could be corrected. Though this was a protocol not meant for Drivers, Elias assumed that his initiative would grant him an absolution from his recent genetic defect.  Gellar chuckled his squeak-laugh again.  Raemus would be notified through an elaborate alert system that Elias had programmed and that would buy him some time.  He thought that Sanchez was probably either panicking or lost in thought, like a fool.   Now, Elias' mind was focused on preparing for the future. First, he would have to get take a shuttle to Septin, then board the next transport for Genetia - no - a Windsol.  Either way, Gellar had to get off this slave outpost.
      Captain Raemus watched his Unabox intently. Eavesdropping on Driver channels was a daily duty of the Elite Officers in charge. Each Captain had to  ensure that his crew never mutated.  Mutations happened every once in a while and, since the DNA deliquescing 1200 years earlier, all Elites were ordered to monitor intranet transmissions. Raemus still had a few OneGen Drivers on his Outpost, so he knew that a breakdown was coming - it was only a matter of time. His theory and opinion were shared by many of his brothers and, most especially, his superiors.
      Captain Anthony Raemus instructed the Unabox to mute with a subtle hand gesture, like a twitch. He slumped back in his chesk and trembled slightly. Fortunately, there were no cameras to observe his inner conflict. He bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut. He swallowed and regained his composure. Then he straightened in his chesk, his muscles became rigid. This was a bad week for Raemus. He would have to correct two Drivers and then he has would have to report to The Council to accept responsibility.  And punishment.
     “I don't need this shit.” He cursed.  "There should be some kind of safety protocol in place that will allow us to just terminate them chemically.  Why go through all this trouble when we could inactivate them and render them for fuel on the outpost?!” he ranted. He sat in his chesk with his head in his hands and struggled to figure out how to fix this mess.

© Christopher Robert Dawson 2000-2013

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