Daughter of Destiny
Read Daughter of Destiny Online
Authors: HC Playa
Tags: #pulp fiction, #female protagonist, #pulp heroes, #new pulp
DAUGHTER OF DESTINY
BY HC PLAYA
Copyright © 2014 HC Playa
Published by Pro Se Press at
Smashwords
The stories in this publication are
fictional. All of the characters in this publication are fictitious
and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely
coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced or
transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or
mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any
information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in
writing of the publisher.
I would like to thank the many
people who have helped me along my journey of discovery in the
world of writing. From that first "what if" conversation with
Brigitte that spawned not only a series, but unearthed a passion,
through years of editing and re-writes and critiques from fellow
writers, I appreciate all of the assistance. I became a better
writer through your help. I especially want to thank Denise for
reading this untold numbers of times and culling those pesky typos.
Last, I would like to thank Anne for both her invaluable opinions
and insight, but most importantly for being the best friend I've
always wanted.
CONTENTS
Blinding sunlight reflected
off the surface of the pewter urn. Rows and rows of newly turned
earth baked in the Texas heat. Beside Katarina, Naia shook with
loud heart rending sobs. The crowd of mourners which attended her
mother's funeral a week ago made no appearance today. No one but
close relatives bothered to attend any more. People were dying too
fast.
She and Naia watched as a
weather worn man shoveled desiccated soil until her father's grave
became one more patch of disturbed clay. At least twenty workers
carried out similar duties within sight. Katarina stared at the
rows and counted the plots of new graves, counting the number of
victims. She stopped when she reached a hundred and fifty and
realized the plots went farther than she could see.
The most deadly virus in
human history struck with the stealth of the common cold, but
inserted deadly oncogenes. Those cancerous time bombs sent cells
into mitotic frenzy, which then spit out more copies of the virus.
Katarina closed her eyes as data ran through her head.
Reaper.
It has a ninety-five percent morbidity rate, average virus
replication rate of ten hours, and incubation period is three days.
Nothing to date kills it.
Naia released her grief and
despair in an ocean of tears, but Katarina's eyes remained dry.
Anger burned hot in her gut. No one listened. She warned them. She
showed them the data, the lists, the genetic analysis, but they
brushed her off. Without the reputation acquired through degrees
and age, her voice fell on deaf ears. Like the ancient Greek oracle
Cassandra, she prophesied and no one believed.
Reaper s
tole any
hope of reconciliation with her parents. It stole the answers she
needed to understand the strange abilities she possessed. It
granted her the curse of being its discoverer. If left unchecked,
Reaper w
ould sweep across the planet and rob humanity of the
advances forged from the sacrifices of generations before
her.
Katarina put her arm around
Naia's shoulder and urged her to stand. "I found
Reaper.
I'll stop it. You have my word."
Naia sniffed and a hiccup
shook her whole body. She gazed up at Katarina with puffy, red
rimmed eyes, but a fire burned in them. "How can I
help?"
Memphis, Tennessee,
Thirteen years later
The fume hood in the lab
provided background white noise as she poured over the clinical
trial results. Across three separate computer screens she cross
referenced dosages and genetic variances, but still the solution
eluded her. The engineered retro virus still lacked something
critical. Sure, patients scrambled to benefit from the fifty
percent survival rather than the mere five percent of a non-treated
patient, but it felt like playing Russian roulette with their
lives.
"Eo tere mio
fa."
Katarina jerked upright in
her chair as a telepathic voice slammed into her mind. "What
the—"
"Eo tere mio
fa."
She shook her head at her
foolish mistake. Alone in the building, she relaxed her guard and
paid less attention to her mental walls. She closed her eyes and
reinforced her barriers, as her mother taught her when she was a
small child.
"Eo tere mio fa."
"Seriously?"
She raised a hand and rubbed
at the exhaustion headache which drilled into her temples. Whoever
was thinking so damn loud didn't seem to be speaking to her, but to
get through her walls implied more than mere thoughts.
Another
telepath?
The idea snagged her attention, but she dismissed it
as wishful thinking. No doubt she just underestimated her
exhaustion level.
"Eo tere mio
fa."
Katarina saved her files
shut down her computer. No one thought the same darn thing that
many times unless they were meditating. She sighed. Was it too much
to ask that she get a few hours without people's thoughts pressing
against her mental walls?
Katarina glanced at her
watch as she stretched her legs out in front of her. "Four o'clock?
Jeeze. Lights off," she said. The fluorescent lights blinked out.
Not even the pale green glow of instrument panels penetrated the
blackness. She closed her eyes to snatch some sleep before morning
dawned.
"Eo tere mio
fa."
"Oh, for heaven's sake!"
Once again she attempted to block him out, but it was as if having
lowered her walls enough to allow the voice in, her brain tuned
refused to change channels. She let her telepathic powers surge and
sent out the mental equivalent of a shout.
"WILL YOU SHUT
UP!?"
Silence answered her. Her
lips curved in a small triumphant smile.
***
"Kat!" Naia’s voice pierced
the fog of slumber with its sharp tone. Katarina’s eyes snapped
open and focused on a precariously piled stack of plasti. She
stared at it for a moment. The low hum of the fume hood and the
distant sounds of voices and buzzing comms finally clued her brain
into the fact that she wasn't at home in bed.
"This has to stop, Kat. It
isn't healthy. Since I moved out, you all but live in the lab. When
was the last time you went home?"
Katarina sat up, letting
her muscles un-kink. She frowned down at her wrinkled blouse and
slacks. "I'm fine Naia. Stop worrying."
"Someone has to." She held
a hand up as Katarina opened her mouth to rebut Naia's comment.
"You push yourself too hard."
Katarina ignored the hand,
stood up, and shoved her desk chair aside. "Trust me, Naia. Sitting
on my butt at home is more likely to kill me than being useful
here."
Naia pushed aside the
mountain of plasti sheets, sending several tumbling across the desk
and a couple clattered to the floor. She perched on the corner of
the desk. "Bullshit. Besides, who appointed you savior of the
world?"
Katarina retrieved the
sheets of plasti and tossed them on her desk. She wadded up her lab
coat and dumped it in her chair. "Better I save a few lives than
destroy them."
"Huh?"
"Are you blind, Naia? I
have t
o push myself."
"Maybe if you actually
talked to me like you used to, I would know what you're talking
about. I have no clue what goes on in your head
anymore."
"It's not my head that's
the problem."
Katarina glanced around the
room and spotted an empty box set by the door for the janitor to
collect. She flung her palm out and blue-white light hit the box.
It used to take days to build up enough energy to do that, but now
a few hours of sleep sufficed. The box burned so fast it seemed
solid one second and a pile of ash the next.
"That's why I work for two
or three days straight until my brain screams for REM sleep. That's
why I spend at least two hours a day running through katas until my
muscles shake with fatigue, but damn it; it isn't enough anymore.
My brain was so mushy last night some guy got through my blocks.
Worse, I violated my own damn rules and told him to shut up, and
not verbally either."
Katarina didn't want to
stick around to hear Naia's reply. Everyone else had deemed her a
freak and turned their back maybe Naia would finally do so too. A
part of her hoped she would. If she did, Katarina no longer had to
fear losing control one day and hurting her best friend.
"I’m going to freshen up in
the ladies’ room." She left without meeting Naia’s gaze.
In the restroom, Katarina
splashed her face with lukewarm water that smelled of chlorine and
rust. She wished the antiquated sink provided hot water, but water
heaters cost money and the university only turned them on when code
enforcement officers came snooping. She stared at her damp image in
the mirror.
"You’re a freak," she told
her reflection. Katarina shook her head in disgust and then dug
into her black hole of a purse to find a hairbrush. She considered
it a small miracle when at last her fingers closed around the
handle. When she faced the mirror again to tame her tangled locks,
her vision dimmed. Instead of her own face looking back at her, a
striking male visage with deep brown eyes, set in a chiseled golden
face, and surrounded by a curtain of raven black hair stared back
at her.
"Qi esa?"
Before she could even blink, the image
dissolved as did the brief telepathic connection.
Katarina stumbled backward.
Her hand clenched around her hairbrush. "Damn it! How did I let
that happen?"
"Let what
happen?"
Katarina startled at the
sound of Naia’s voice echoing in the small bathroom. Katarina took
a couple of deep breaths before speaking.
"What?"
"I’m not an idiot, Kat."
Naia folded her arms under her breasts and struck a very familiar
pose with her hip cocked and one booted foot tapping the
floor.
"I don’t want to discuss
it."
Katarina finished cleaning
up as best she could. Her hands trembled and she clutched her purse
to hide the evidence of her fractured calm. The memories that
fought to surface eroded her now tenuous control.
Naia marched over and poked
Katarina in the arm. "You won't frighten me off, Kat. I love you,
and that's that. Ever since Mom and Dad died you've pulled inside
yourself. You even stopped using your telepathy. Did it ever occur
to you that maybe instead of trying to bottle your talents you
should use them?"
A twinge of guilt pricked
her conscious for allowing Naia to assume that grief guided her
actions. Katarina moved her shoulders and feigned a shrug. "I don’t
see why I should accept so called gifts that cause me pain more
than anything."
Naia placed a hand on her
arm. "Kat, you need to stop acting as if you are only half alive.
Your telepathy, these powers, they are part of you. Use them.
Finding out more about the vision you just had sounds like an
excellent place to start."
