It began in the year 2235.
Following an uneasy truce in the Earth/Mars conflict, other colonies began demanding their own independence. With attacks on military ships increasing and fearing an all out war, The Unified Earth Government issued a series of mandatory draft laws to increase their army and run herd on the Solar System.
The first draft was based on income, essentially eliminating the problems of homelessness and unemployment and earning the support of upper class citizens. Recruits were sorted into the various branches. Some were offered advanced training while others were basically bullet sponges.
The second draft required the conscription of all second born children between the ages of sixteen and forty. Desperate parents tried to hide their children or change their identities. When the parents were caught the children, along with thousands of others fled the Draft Police and were labeled Dodgers.
Now those who were caught were typically sent to labor camps to work on ships and weapon manufacturing. But some, like Drake Gallagher, who were particularly clever and possessed very keen abilities were offered a second chance and a clean slate if they accepted their “civic” duty.
Drake's real purpose lay in a planet, five thousand light years from Earth. An agricultural colony called Epsilon, which also maintained it's independence in exchange for becoming a sort of interstellar Botany Bay. When the planet's relatively small population became overrun with criminals, psychotics and other undesirables it needed a hero. Drake was that hero.
Upon his arrival a magical sword was bestowed upon him by the spirits of the planet. And in his first week he rescued the daughter of Dr. Noel and defeated one of the most notorious villains City 5 has ever seen.March 23, 2354/Seed Year
City 5 Public School“Mr. Carving, could you come to my desk please.”
Raymond looked up from his desk, confused. Miss Mbondo sounded upset, or something very similar. She was almost never upset with him. What had he done wrong? As he got up and walked down the aisle he felt the eyes of his classmates as they whispered amongst themselves, snickering.
“If you all need something to do I'm sure I can find something for you,” Ms. Mbondo said, sternly.
The class went silent as students pretended to read or work on their class assignments. Raymond knew from experience that a few of them were sending messages to friends in other classes via their Mobile G-nets, no doubt reporting the apparent danger to his title of teacher's pet.
Miss Mbondo gestured for Raymond to come around the desk. She was looking at a reader, using a stylus to scroll and make notes. Like much of the other materials in the classroom it was terribly outdated and kept working by skilled technicians and hope.
“Is there something wrong, miss?” He asked, keeping his voice low.
“Would you read what I've marked here, please?” Miss Mbondo held the reader out to him. It was his history report and she highlighted the last three paragraphs.
Raymond swallowed.
“Out loud?”
“Of course not. To yourself.”
He did but he was still confused. He was sure the grammar was right and there was nothing misspelled. This wasn't plagiarized, although everyone knew the story of how he and Drake came to Epsilon and how Drake found the sword. Two years had gone by and Drake was virtually a legend throughout City 5. Raymond looked at Miss Mbondo, thinking that perhaps she was being ironic-pretending to be upset when he had written it very well.
Her face was soft and though she wasn't furious her scrutinizing gaze made him guess he was wrong.
“Is there something wrong with it?” He asked.
Miss Mbondo seemed uncertain of whether or not to laugh or shake her head in annoyance. She chose a slight nod over either gesture and took back the reader.
“This was supposed to be a history report,” she explained. “And you had the right idea up until these paragraphs. Or more specifically, until you began glorifying Mr. Gallagher as a mythical hero right out of the comic books you had the right idea.”
Raymond blanched as he heard someone laugh. Miss Mbondo looked right at the boy as he tried to catch himself, too late. Raymond watched in horror as she pushed a few buttons on the computer attached to her desk.”
“Mister Qwan, I've sent you chapters one through six of an American history text book.” She announced. “You will become an expert on them by tomorrow's class.” As an afterthought she looked to the rest of the class, “And if there is any more outbursts you will all be given an extra reading assignment.”
With a last warning glare daring another student to test her Miss Mbondo turned back to Raymond. Her look softened again though Raymond felt anything but comforted by it. Qwan had about as many friends as he did, but this little altercation with Miss Mbondo was sure to gain him some supporters, while insuring that Raymond never had a social life for as long as he went to school.
“I'll rewrite it,” he said quickly.
Miss Mbondo nodded.
“Just keep it to the facts and save the embellishment for Creative Writing.”
Raymond suffered in silence for the rest of class as he tried to rewrite the history of colonization. When he first wrote it he had forgotten that most people thought the story was rubbish.
Two Years Earlier“As of now, you do not exist!” The sergeant bellowed.
Raymond stomach churned as the gravity and heat of the planet assaulted him all at once. His ears were ringing and he could barely turn his head. But in the corner of his eye he saw the older boy. Tall, with long curly hair and wearing an old dirty red sweater with black pants, the boy glared defiantly at the sergeant. Earlier when the sergeant was yelling at him it had been this boy who stuck up for him.
Or was he sticking up for him? Was he just trying to get the sergeant's goat? Raymond didn't know. All he could do at the moment was grab his stomach and lean forward as everything he had eaten in the last twenty-four hours came up. He dropped to his knees and clutched his stomach as he heaved. The older boy walked away, disgusted probably.
I don't blame you, he thought.
He flashed back to his last moments on Earth. The day was warm, but like most days in England it was very cloudy with a chance of rain. Raymond was in Maths working out algebra problems when he received a notice to go to the headmaster's office.
His father had a rare day off from work and he and his mother had gone out to do some grocery shopping. They had a car crash and were fatally wounded.
As he reeled from the discovery, Raymond tried to remember if he had any living relatives, any at all who could take him in. But there was no one. Mrs. Gunther, the headmaster, called a representative of the Unified Earth Government to see if there was any way they could “help” Raymond.
That “help” was very limited. He was the only child of a relatively well off family and so he didn't qualify to become a ward of the nation until he was old enough to draft. So like any other child who was no longer in the care of their families, Raymond was sent to Epsilon so he could have a “chance” of living a full life without taxing the hardworking people of Europe and the world.
For three days Raymond was handled roughly by the military personnel who booked him and placed him on the transport ship. And for three days it was only him, this boy, and a handful of men and women who were in no mood to play babysitter to a handful of exiles.
The food was awful and space travel was exhausting and mentally draining. Raymond was at once sick, frightened and happy to be on solid ground, away from the sounds of boots against cold metal, the shouting, and the constant feeling of fear and uncertainties.
Now grief finally caught up to him,
Gingerly he raised a sleeve to wipe his nose and tears on his sleeve. Never again would he hear his mother telling him to use a tissue, or chastising him for getting his school uniform dirty. As he looked around at the alien grass and plants he could see images of his father kicking a soccer ball to him on the field outside their house.
No more trips to the news agent for Cadburry Creams, no more movies...everything was gone now. All because he was an orphan.
“Kid! Kid!”
Raymond looked up to see the boy pointing. He followed his gaze to see an old man shaking wildly and raising a knife as he drew near.
“Come here!”
Paralyzed with fear, Raymond didn't move as the psycho drew closer. In series of moments too fast for him to remember, the boy suddenly stood between him and the older man holding a sword and swinging. The man's blood spilled and he crumpled to the ground.
Raymond cried out as the boy turned to him.
“Lets get out of here!” He said, holding out his hand.
Raymond was hesitant at first. He looked at the sword that was now covered in blood, terrified that the boy might do the same to him.
“Look, take this,” the boy took the knife out of the man's hand and held it out to Raymond. “If anyone comes for you strike fast and run. But I'm not staying here to get killed so you'd better come with me.”
Raymond took the knife and the boy helped him to his feet.
“My name's Raymond,” His voice was scratchy from the vomit.
“I'm Drake.”
* * *
An old fashioned bell system rang in the halls, alerting the end of the school day. Raymond gathered his things and tried to exit hastily before Miss Mbondo stopped him.
“I'd like to see you in my office please.” She said with a tone that invited no discussion.
The interaction didn't go unnoticed and Raymond had no doubt he'd hear about it later on.
For this day to end, he mentally pleaded with whatever pantheon of gods looked over the planet as he sat outside Miss Mbondo's office.
Post Merged: January 16, 2011, 04:23:48 PM
Town Center
Medical Wing
[/i]
“She said she understood my 'hero worship', but that I shouldn't allow the trauma of that day to constantly effect my work. Can you believe it?”
“That sucks,” Simon agreed, capturing Raymond's last pawn.
Raymond sighed and laid down his king.
“Do you want another game?” Simon asked.
“No thank you. My mind's just not here right now.”
Simon nodded. Raymond helped put the pieces away, inserting each piece into it's individual holder before folding the chess board. He placed the board on the shelf next to Simon's other board games.
Monopoly: The Solar System edition, Backgammon, Checkers,
Jenga and a few other classics lined the top shelf, which was always in Simon's reach. The lower shelves held toys from his childhood, photos of friends (There was a new one of Raymond, Simon, Drake, Sherry and the rest of the hospital staff at Simon's last birthday) and a collection of books printed on paper that came from genetically engineered plant fibers.
Raymond turned around to see Simon terribly uncomfortable and scratching the the back of his neck where several wires were connected.
“Is the parasite bothering you?” He asked, concerned.
“Yeah.”
When Simon was a small boy he became infected with a parasite that latched onto his neck and began sapping his body's natural electrical impulses, paralyzing him. The only way they could keep the parasite from killing him was by feeding it intravenously through wires connected to a power generator.
The parasite acted as a filter, keeping the power from electrocuting Simon and giving him the use of his body so long as they were connected to it. The downside was that Simon was literally helpless without the generator and couldn't leave the confines of the sealed room. Anyone who came into the room to take care of him or, like Raymond, hang out, had to wear special protection to keep the parasite from dislodging and attacking them.
It was a fact that made a lot of people wary of Simon. He and Raymond hit it off from day one when they discovered that they were both orphans in the technical sense. Even though Simon claimed his father was still alive and working off world he was now considered a ward of City 5 and a permanent resident of the Town Center Medical Wing.
Over the years the parasite was starting to agitate him even more.
“Do you want me to get Erika?” Raymond asked.
“No,” Simon said. He stopped scratching but Raymond could tell it was still bothering him. “There's nothing she can do except take me off the generator. I don't like being helpless. I like this-” Simon stood up for emphasis, “-so much more.”
Simon walked around the room stretching as he moved. He'd start to scratch his neck but looked at Raymond and stopped.
“You can scratch it if you need to,” Raymond said. He smiled to show he wasn't bothered. “There's no girls around to impress.”
Simon tried to chuckle, but it was strained.
“It's just...” He stopped moving and looked around the room. “Doctor Bourne had me examined this month. They've been trying to find more of these parasites in the wild to see if they can learn more about this one. But they're so good at hiding. Plus you really couldn't do much back when Ely controlled the woods past the Cheron bridge, you know.”
Raymond grimaced. He still remembered Ely and how he and his gang of thugs tried to over run the city just a few nights after he and Drake arrived.
“He says it's acting up,” Simon continued. “They don't know if it's dying or...breeding.”
A look of horror came over Raymond's face as the implication struck him. “If it dies...or multiplies...”
“I could die.” Simon said, simply. He looked over at the glass wall that separated him from the little office where the doctors and nurses sat to do their paperwork and keep tabs on him. He sighed and turned to Raymond. “I can't even have a window in here because a bird just might land on the window and the parasite could dislodge and attack it. If I want to see what outside looks like I have to be lucky enough to catch a glance of the hall when the door slides open, or I have to watch TV.”
Simon wrapped his arms around himself, looking as sad as Raymond was beginning to feel.
“I'm sorry,” He said. “I didn't mean to dump all this on you.”
“It's all right.” Raymond placed a gloved hand on Simon's shoulder. Knowing that his only friend could die at any moment made him think of his own parents and how suddenly they had been taken from him. Raymond tried to hold back the tears that threatened to fall.
Apparently sensing his sadness Simon put his own arm around Raymond's shoulder.
“Come on,” Simon said. “Want to watch a Bond movie?”
Raymond left the Town Center feeling even worse than he did at school. It never grew cold on Epsilon but as he looked up at Eros and Psyche, the two moons, he felt a shiver. He hated not being able to help Simon and he hated how the one person he wanted to go to was the one person his teacher said he needed to stop being dependent on.
On his way to the station to catch the monorail home, Raymond stopped at the corner of Townsend and Bigsley. Drake's flat was on the third floor of a building just three blocks away.
When Drake finished his education and received his high school diploma it seemed as though he couldn't get away from the Noel's house fast enough. Raymond knew it was because Drake fancied Sherry Noel and he thought of it as awkward, living in the same house as a woman you liked when her parents were essentially looking after you.
He still visited on holidays and Raymond spent a few weekends at his apartment, playing video games and watching movies. But much of the time Drake was busy working with City 5 Security to keep order in the limits. And when he wasn't in the city he was out beyond the River Styx, helping to bring newcomers to the City in safety.
Drake was a hero. Even if some people thought the story about the sword was just a legend, ever since Drake and Raymond arrived on Epsilon good things began to happen. Ely was captured and without his gang running the Wild, people who were surviving on their own, or were very near to death, could receive food, medical attention and services at the Coral Forest Rehab center.
I know you went through a lot before you came here, Miss Mbondo's voice echoed in his head. Drake is a strong person who took care of you when you were young and impressionable, so it's understandable that you see him as kind of a hero figure.She was right. Raymond hated it.
He climbed the stairs to the platform and stared at the tracks until the headlamp of the monorail lit up the night sky. When he got home Jonathan, Sherry's father was home and cooking supper. Sherry had a place of her own now too and Dr. Noel had a late night at the council's office and it was just the “boys” tonight.
Sherry was gone. Drake was gone. Raymond tried to call them both once but he wound up having to leave a message.
After receiving another lecture about his apparent infatuation with Drake (Man, what Raymond would give to have been born in long before news could travel at the blink of an eye across a city district) Raymond went to bed wondering just what it was the gods had taken from him in exchange for the day finally ending.
* * *
Sherry Noel was not a heavy sleeper. She was up before the first sun every single morning and she couldn't get to sleep until the second sun was completely out of sight. And in the hours that made up her sleeping pattern the sound of an insect buzzing just outside her window could awaken her. She was always fully alert and ready for anything.
Long ago, Sherry decided that if she could ever bottle whatever it was that let her operate on less than five hours of sleep she would become the richest woman in the universe. Until then her fall back plan was to keep the people of her city safe and to not let recent decisions get in the way of what had to be done.
His scent remained with the impression he had left on her pillow and the bed. His uniform, the sky blue jacket and matching pants lay in a crumpled heap on the floor beside his boots. Annoyed, she picked up the jacket and the light gray undershirt he wore last night and placed them on a hanger form the closet. After folding the pants and placing them on top of the dresser she went to the window.
As she suspected, there was Drake, on the beach wearing nothing but a pair of tight black boxers, going through his morning workout. The mandatory training required by all City 5 security personnel had toned his body and transformed him from the lank, stick thin boy she met two years ago. His hair, once long like a warrior out of ancient times was cut short as required by regulations, but he had a neatly trimmed goatee that only barely covered what remained of the boyish features that greeted her the evening they had first made eye contact.
The sunlight glistened against his body as droplets of water fell from his hair and frame. Apparently he decided to work a brisk morning swim into his routine, which was understandable given how grueling the training exercises could be. With Drake's apartment in the city it was likely he never got any closer to the ocean than a view from the Town Center, if he was lucky.
Sherry pulled herself away from the window to take a shower. With the events of last night washed from her body and her mind and spirit mostly refreshed she went to the kitchen to fix them a protein drink for breakfast.
Like most native Epsilonians, Sherry never drank anything warm. Whereas some of the newcomers preferred a warm cup of coffee or tea in the morning, Sherry was happiest with a mixture of cold fruit juice, weigh protein and berries. Since Drake had been so busy these past few months it had quickly become what he referred to as his “Breakfast of Champions”.
While processor blended the ingredients Sherry checked her messages. Raymond had called last night. Apparently there had been some problem with one of his class assignments and he wanted to talk to someone. Drake of course wasn't at his apartment because he was well...
Here, Sherry thought. She couldn't help feeling a little guilty. Even though it was agreed that Raymond needed to stand on his own two feet, herself, her parents and Drake were very much the only family he had.
She closed the message window and opened her calender. The mission was just a day away and Drake still disagreed with her idea to come along. As a representative of the City 5's council, Sherry felt she had a diplomatic obligation to try to help the people of Hades and take the next step to reclaiming Epsilon and making it the viable, independent world it once was. But as his girlfriend Drake couldn't stand the thought of losing her.
Like it was any easier knowing that dolt would run headfirst into a crowded area, sword flailing like an ancient Spartan soldier attacking a heavily armed contingent of Romans. Sherry shook her head as an image of Drake running anywhere in the traditional garb of the Spartans took her mind in a direction it didn't need to go to.
Oh well, she had made up her mind long ago. Drake didn't decide for her before they met and he sure as hell didn't decide for her now. If he had a problem with that then this was going to be a very awkward couple of months.
Armed with the knowledge that Drake could either deal with her presence on the mission or go to hell, Sherry poured two glasses of protein and brought it out to the beach.
Drake was working on his sword play now-a Kata as the Japanese called it. A seemingly endless dance of swipes and thrusts, kicks, twirls and movements as sea brushed his bare legs. He spun around and swiped at the air, stopping as she drew near. He greeted her with a smile and his bright green eyes seemed to have an extra gleam that had very little to do with the sunlight.
“Thanks babe,” He said, accepting the glass she held out. He placed his sword in the sand and pulled her close for a morning kiss before taking a sip of the drink. “Hmmm, delicious. The drink isn't bad either.”
“Well I am pretty good in the kitchen,” she said. “But that doesn't mean I'm staying there.”
The argument was over before it started and Drake knew it, but persistence always had a ninety-percent success rate with him. Unfortunately that ten percent was what got him in the end and it was this particular ten percent that had him cornered.
“I guess there's no point in trying to talk you out of it.”
“Damn straight, buster.”
Drake finished his drink as a devilish grin crossed his face. “Well, I could use one more girlfriend on this trip. Oh, I hope you don't mind, but I got a ton of e-mails this week and I invited all of my other girlfriends along-”
Sherry splashed him with salt water before he could finish. Drake splashed back, ignoring the fact that she was dressed for the day.
“You ass!” She shouted more out of surprise than anger.
“Turn about is fair play,” he said.
“Oh, yeah?” Sherry dropped her glass and rushed him.
The training she put herself through everyday made her body as toned and formidable as his was and she brought Drake down with little resistance. They rolled around in the wet sand, half-playing, half-making out as the morning rolled on. When they both had enough Drake gathered up his sword and they went back into the house for another shower, this time to get Drake cleaned and to get the sand out of Sherry's hair.
“I don't think I've ever been this awake.” Drake said when they were fully dressed.
Sherry was brushing her hair once more. “Two years and you still aren't used to Epsilon time?”
“Oh, I'm used to the time. The security job kind of forces me to be, but two years isn't enough to convince my body it isn't on Earth anymore.” Drake came to her side and caressed her cheek, locking eyes with her reflection in the mirror.
He took the brush from her hand and examined it thoughtfully before gently running it through her golden strands. It was an heirloom passed down from her ancestors who were among Epsilon's early colonists.
“The last three months though...” he paused. “You're like an angel in a place I'm not meant to go to, but your being with me somehow makes it right.”
Sherry gently popped him on the shoulder. “Don't talk about yourself like that. If you're not meant to go there then I don't belong there either. Besides, earthbound angels can be some of the surliest, most uptight and self absorbed people I've ever met until they're at their worse.”
“Was I really uptight when we met?”
“No but you had a high opinion of yourself. Erika told me about the little pass you made at her while you were down to your boxers.”
Drake tried to hide the blush, knowing Sherry was only ribbing at him. Erika was the head nurse at the Town Center Medical Wing and one of the first women Drake and Raymond met on their arrival. She handled a lot of the preliminary examinations of newcomers and while she could be very sweet and warm one minute, those who overstepped their bounds became very familiar with her cutting nature.
Sherry glanced at her watch.
“And I don't think I've ever gotten off to a slower start in the morning,” she remarked, grabbing the brush from Drake and picking up the needles. Once her hair was in a simple chignon she took a final look in the mirror to make sure everything was in order before turning it off.
Drake waited patiently in the foyer as she said good-bye to her house. He hated this. He tried to think of every possible scenario for getting her to stay, going so far as to quietly sneak out, disable her cruiser and rush to catch the monorail before she knew he had left. Or having Jude and the other security guys put her on house arrest for some trivial thing until they were halfway to Hades. Unfortunately none of those scenarios ended with Sherry happily saying yes to any of the elaborately planned marriage proposals he had worked out for when he returned. Mostly they ended in her racking him and making it impossible to ever have children.
She locked the door behind them and they got into her cruiser.
“We need to get you a cruiser when you get back,” she said, thoughtfully. “Have you looked at the auto-exchange to see if anyone's giving up their cruiser yet?”
Drake shook his head. Ever since Epsilon became a prison colony for the unwanted citizens of the Unified Earth Government, all of the major manufacturers of land cruisers and other vehicles pulled the factories and ceased doing business with the native Epsilonians. As a result the land cruisers were much like the private properties, either passed down over the generations or sold and traded when the previous owner no longer needed them or was too old and tired to maintain it. According to the last census there were now only three thousand working cars in City 5, six of which were owned by City 5 Security and the rest circulated among the population.
Drake remembered running from the Draft Police on Earth and having to beg for food and clothes on his way to Canada. When he finally became a citizen of City 5 he swore he would never have to accept anything second hand again. And his first car was definitely going to be his. And if things went as planned a lot of people would be buying their very first new cars
“Do you know Peter? Peter Muntz?”
“Isn't he the guy that runs the Slice of Home Diner?” Sherry asked.
Slice of Home was the most popular restaurant in City 5. The owner, Peter, specialized in dishes from various cultures on Earth making it a hit with newcomers.
“Well, Peter's brother, Bramowitz is the guy who supplies him with all of the Earth grown ingredients he uses in his livestock. His is the only civilian supply ship that comes here and on his last trip here I convinced him to set up a used car franchise right here in Acheron.”
Sherry couldn't have been more shocked if he told her he'd stolen Mr. Patterson's tractor.
“I would love to have been the fly on the wall for that conversation,” she said, taking a full look at Drake when she stopped at an intersection. “That's going to be a really big deal for this city, you know.”
Drake nodded.
“Opens up a few new career prospects, helps us expand our borders, stimulates our economy. Yeah, I thought it'd be a good idea.” She saw his patented **** eating grin in the rear view mirror. “And he's giving me my choice of the cars he brings in when the lot finally opens.”
“So, you've talked with the planning board and the council about this, I take it?”
“Oh yeah. This all happened before you and I got serious. In fact that's two I owe your mother because she backed me up both on that idea...and on you staying here and applying for Judge Gellar's position on the council. Unfortunately our plan had a tiny flaw.”
Sherry rolled her eyes.
“I'm a bit big for my mother to be telling me what to do,” she reminded him. “And if you want a girl who stays at home while you risk your life on another continent then go back to Earth and find yourself a Stepford wife, it'll be a lot easier than pissing me off.”
Drake threw up his hands in surrender. “Duly noted.”
“Besides, since you're the one with all of the brilliant moves, why don't you join the council?” Sherry asked. “You have all of these brilliant ideas, you have a lot of influence over the council-”
“I'm a superhero with a sword.” Drake finished for her. He looked out at scenery as the open plains and woodlands melted into houses and other buildings. “Anyone could have found that sword, Sherry. The only reason half the people out there listen to me is because of that.”
Sherry was about to argue the matter when she remembered something.
“Raymond!” She blurted out.
Drake was confused by the change of subject but only for a second.
“Ah, frick.” He mentally kicked himself. “I didn't tell Raymond about the mission.”
“What?” Sherry gaped at him disbelievingly. “Drake, Raymond got into trouble at school.”
That got Drake's attention. When did Raymond ever get in trouble? “What do you mean?”
Sherry half shrugged as she turned a corner.
“Something about an assignment for history class,” she explained. “He was supposed to write a report but he wound up writing about you and your sword and how you were a hero to Epsilon.”
“Or a hero to him,” Drake realized. As if he didn't feel bad enough. “Son of a...”
“Don't. Don't start beating yourself up. You've got a lot on your plate right now. We all do.”
“That doesn't make it right.”
“No, it doesn't.” Sherry conceited. “I haven't been keeping in touch with Dad, either. Mom is filling him in on the bits and pieces but she respects that we have to keep this under wraps.”
Drake nodded. He checked his watch and sighed. In less than fifteen hours himself, Sherry, and just a handful of people would be leaving City 5 to try and acquire an old cruise boat, of all things. And if they survived the trip to get a hold of the boat there was the matter of getting that boat seaworthy and taking all the way to-what his best friend Spade referred to as the hottest environment in the universe next to the sun of your choice.
The irony in all of this was that Drake was now even more afraid of what would happen when he told Raymond, a kid who idolized him and considered him his brother, that he was about to leave and that he couldn't find five minutes in the last three months to tell him.
