Authors: Penelope Fletcher
He turned to pierce Kali with sea blue eyes, a
genetic trait of the Loklears, and ran an appraising look at her thick pyjamas,
fighting a smile when he figured out the pattern emblazoned on the fabric was
fluffy bunnies on fire. “Kali, my dove, what happened to that lovely sleepwear
we bought you last weekend?”
She cringed. “Max spilled sauce on it. It stained.”
She grabbed his hand and pulled. “Come on, Papa wants to go. He has a meeting,
and he’s got the, “I’m stressed and going to get more crows feet,” look on his
face. You know how cranky he gets when you make him late.” She looked at the
ComUni. “Computer, hibernate.”
The VirtuaPad folded until it was a symbol floating
in front of the blank ComUni screen.
Kali pulled again, and Rikard lifted out the
high-backed chair. His eyes twinkled when she tugged on his hand.
Rikard was a gentle giant whom loved Creighton and
Kali, and would do anything for them. Raised in the upper echelons of HiCaste
society, as the second born son in the Loklear clan it was expected he lead a
privileged and blessed life. His peers cringed at what he had; thinking him
better than what he “settled” for, but to Rikard, life was bliss.
He was in love with a man who was handsome and
intelligent, tempered severity with kindness, and who loved Kali as much as he
did.
He had married that man, and given him his last
name, something that was not done in modern society, but something Rikard had
to do. It was insurance. If anything ever happened to him, Creighton and Kali
were lawfully able to demand the sanctuary his family name provided.
His daughter was precious, rare, and every day he
thanked the stars she had been given to him.
Kali was part of the reason he worked hard.
Creating a better world had driven him as a youth, but the need to create one
for his child drove him as a man.
Society was a mess.
Genetic tampering had changed mankind into
something other than Human. Technological advances had seen more than two
thirds of the world living in a post apocalyptic squalor. It wasn’t even
contained to the quadrants that had come late to the treaty.
The Continents off Home World were an abomination.
His family had a house, a garden, and real food
rather than cubicle rooms, and nutrient liquids. They knew what it was to sit
in the sun and breathe fresh oxygen rather than dying under toxic smog and
manufactured air. His child laughed and relaxed rather than trained in weaponry
to learn how to defend herself in the harsh OutRim.
The LoEco quadrants sickened him. They gave him
night terrors he woke from drenched in sweat.
Treaty10 hadn’t been as successful as the ignorant
reckoned it to be. There were sectors on the continent that were fully
computerized. Cold, impersonal, barren areas of metal that supported the basics
of life but hindered its growth. The people were weak, breeding into
emotionless voids and genetic misfits.
The very thing the treaty had been created to
avoid.
He was ashamed to say his family, his ancestors,
were one of the direct causes of this horror, but Rikard was determined to
become part of the solution.
“Princess, next time, don’t read what is on my
screen. That habit must stop. It’s dangerous for you to know the things I work
on. Not again, do you understand?”
Kali’s grip on him tightened in fear at the warning
in his voice. She knew her father was a powerful man from an even greater
family – one she was not welcome in. He dealt with sensitive, top-secret
information, most of which never saw more than a few pairs of eyes. Ever. It
was not safe for her to know it. That it was so classified worried her. He
screamed at night. She knew there were things he sometimes did that sickened
him to the core. He wanted her away from that. These unwholesome things he did
aside from his humanitarian work were because of the deal he had made years ago
to ensure her safety.
“Sorry,” she muttered, concern shadowing her eyes
and causing a downward tilt to her lips.
She shrugged it off and beamed at him, tugging
again.
Love is why Rikard let Kali take him from his
crucial work and prod him towards the kitchen. The sooner he got to his other
desk the sooner he’d carry on.
“Let’s take off,” she rushed, and released him to
clap her hands three times.
“Cosmic. Let me grab my things–”
Holding up a hand to still him, Kali whizzed around
the room. She grabbed his rucksack, his MiniComUni, his coffee flask with the
funny coder joke, his OmniLock, his TalkMe, and his security pass she clipped
onto her collar.
When they reached the kitchen, Creighton was
pulling on his trench. He grabbed his OmniLock, and shot a panicked look at the
digital clock mounted on the wall that was programmed to look like distressed
bricks.
When his vexed eyes landed on Rikard, his face
relaxed, and genuine pleasure showed in the subtle twist of his lips.
There were few things more enjoyable to Kali than
watching her parents see each other after a separation, even a short one. There
was always boundless open affection, and they never hesitated to draw her into
that warm bubble of happiness.
Whatever her DNA said, she was the daughter of
Creighton and Rikard Loklear. They had named her, and raised her since she was
a couple of days old.
Creighton gave Rikard a kiss. “Welcome back to the
world of the living. Third night in a row you’ve abandoned our bed.”
“Sorry. I’m being pushed hard at work. They’re ...
something big has happened, and they’ve sent me strange bits of code to
re-work.” He plucked the flask out of Kali’s outstretched hand and refilled it
from the built-in coffee machine. “I’ll make it up to you.” He winked.
“Promise.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.” Creighton grinned.
He had a lovely smile, bright, even if his bottom
teeth were crooked.
Kali slouched on the stool and smeared a thick
sweep of chocolate spread on a dumpling, humming to herself.
“Now princess,” Rikard began, pausing to take a sip
of coffee. “What are you doing today?”
Kali took a large bite of dumpling and closed her
eyes to let sweet, chocolaty heaven make everything better. “I’ve already had
this conversation with the alternative parental unit,” she answered around a
second mouthful. She counted off sticky fingers. “Find employment, find
employment, and, um,” she snapped her fingers, “find employment.” She snapped
those fingers twice more.
“Don’t fool around with
Maximilian
all day. If we find another stain on the furniture….” Creighton trailed off
because the threat in his tone was enough.
“Showdowns at high noon get messy,” she defended.
“What in the name of science do you mean?”
“Max found a cool site on the IntraWave that has
loads of old video games adapted for HoloSphere tech. Otherwise, I’d have to
find an antiquates dealer to find me the actual consoles they used to play, and
buy a power conversion unit since they run off electricity.” She made a face. “
Electricity
, can you believe it?”
Creighton was amused. “Your grandmother was raised
in an electric power household. BlueAtom8 was discovered after her birth. I’ve
watched HoloVids of her as a young woman on the VidSee using electrical items
until the family saved enough money to get the house converted to use Blue
Matter.” He opened his arms for a hug she eagerly accepted. “Don’t play this
game whilst you have food dangling from your mouth.” He squeezed her tight and
popped a kiss on her nose. “Be good. We’ll message you later if we’re going to
be late.”
Rikard stood on the other side of her and rubbed
her back. “Thank science we don’t have a RecRom.”
Kali shuddered. The idea that she would spend time
in a RecRom with Max or any man was downright insulting. She’d gotten her rec
license when she turned sixteen like everyone else, but she’d held onto her
virginity for months until an unwise tryst with Max. The sexual log of her
profile was clean apart from that encounter.
Rikard pressed a kiss to her forehead. “We love
you,” he murmured.
She pressed her cheek into his chest and hugged his
middle. “Love you guys too.”
They left through the front door in a bustle, and a
low murmur of conversation.
She didn’t know how she would ever survive without
them, and thanked her stars she wouldn’t have to for years to come. Recent
medical advancements extended Human life significantly if you had enough credit
to afford the treatments. Kali looked forward to keeping her parents around in
prime health until they pushed a century and a half at least.
Itching her collarbone she frowned when plastic
crackled. Cursing, she plucked the security pass off the collar of her pyjama
top.
Dashing to the front door, Howl dogging her heels,
she reached for the handle and stopped. Annoyed she yanked the door open. “Oi.”
She closed the door. When she opened it again, Rikard waited, one foot in their
trusty FloVe, a four-seater hovercraft that was already floating off the
ground. “Here.” She jiggled the security pass between her slender fingers,
making the video image of him on the thin surface ripple monochromatic before
she chucked it to him. Kali closed the door and opened it again, feeling the
tension release. She’d have to close it another two times now she’d opened it
after the third close, but at least she had gotten Rikard his security pass in
time.
Rikard caught the pass and lifted it high in
victory. Grinning, making a ‘what would I do without you’ gesture, he blew her
a smacking kiss.
Creighton waved through the windscreen then
stilled. He cringed and retracted the hand.
Too late, her arm already returned the wave, but
she didn’t mind. Her parents drove away, and she waved until they turned the
corner. Kali kept on waving, counting to thirty.
Across the neat HiEco suburban street, a tall,
well-built blonde-haired male waved at her from his front door.
A tiger – Bengal breed with white fur and
bold black stripes – stood at his side. Howl barked a cheerful greeting
to the fellow FetchMe. The Bengal turned its head with bitchy regale.
Kali laughed as Max bounced on the spot trying to
keep warm in the chill morning air. “I’m not waving at you,” she called, her
hand still flying from side to side. “And you still haven’t programmed Baby to
accept Howl.”
“Sure you are,” he shouted, still waving with both
arms. Kali laughed as he panted. She stopped waving when her mental count was
done. Max stopped waving too, grinning fondly. “And don’t worry about Baby,
she’s been in a foul mood all week because I did tell her to accept him. She
didn’t roar, or attack him like usual, did she? Let me wash and throw clothes
on.”
“Hurry and I’ll save you a dumpling for breakfast.
The door’s unlocked.” She rubbed Howl’s crown. “Leave Baby behind if she’s
acting funny. The last time she scratched Howl I had to send him for healing.
If she hurts my FetchMe again, she’ll have me to deal with.”
Kali closed the door, opened, and closed it her
additional two times.
She went back into the kitchen to finish breakfast
after pouring a bowl of electric pink LiquiNu for Howl to lap at to bolster his
nutrient levels. The thick liquid was packed with antioxidants, vitamins, and
minerals, as well as other stuff the body needed. It was possible to survive
solely on LiquiNu, and the poorer citizens of the OutRim did.
She shuddered to think of it.
Kali asked Howl to go grab her forgotten TalkMe
from her room, and read popular news feeds as she ate, easing into a
comfortable silence.
Sunlight filtered through the glass panes of the
ceiling to floor doors that led into the garden. Past the patio, was a
wonderland glistening under the early morning sun, and a pink dawn highlighted
fluffy clouds.
Done with the news, Kali slid her fingers over the
TalkMe touch screen. She brought up the remote application to turn on music.
After a brief pause, the gentle twinkling of a harp mixed with a rocky baseline
blasted through the house. The programme was popular, analyzing the requester’s
brainwaves and heart rate to determine what genre of music the listener would
be receptive to and stringing the notes together in real time. Each piece was a
unique symphony.
Kali enjoyed hearing how she felt. It was oddly
soothing.
She finished the second dumpling, and sipped the
tart orange juice, raising an eyebrow as she read yet another story on how
agitated people were becoming due to a rumoured Quarantine that had come into
effect, the first in a decade.
Max, wet hair slicked back, strode into the
kitchen, and pulled up a stool. Dropping onto the padded seat, he snatched the
last dumpling from her hand. “Mine,” he crowed. He devoured it in one chomp.
“Hmm. Sweet.” He licked chocolaty fingers and waggled his eyebrows.
Kali used a finger to slide him her glass of juice.
She forced a smile. She’d offered the dumpling after all. The fact he’d made it
in time to make good on the offer was standard. She’d had two dumplings,
instead of three. It didn’t matter.