A New Divide

Finally, the calm I had been waiting for had arrived. I never thought it would happen. My state of misery and despair had finally come to an end, thanks to the good will of the Remoran Protectorate, and their Good Commander.

Although I had finally attained some piece of mind away from the indescribable horrors of Salaran captivity, I couldn’t help but think about the trouble I would have adjusting to an entirely new life.

I became angry just thinking about it, always so mad at everything. I knew nothing of the world outside my walls. It wasn’t until they burned to ashes that I would see just how ignorant I truly was.

I rubbed my neck as I sat in the bed within the Alexandria’s infirmary wing. The doctor scrolled through his holographic display upon his band and constantly shot glances at me, which annoyed the hell out of me.

“Hey, Doc, I know I’m pretty, but I need to leave.”

The doctor cracked a smiled and continued to scroll through his medical reports.

“Things to do?”

I looked down and sighed. “Time to think.”

“There will be plenty of time for that, Mr. King. We need to discuss something.”

“Okay. What?”

“Aren’t you curious as to how your leg is no longer broken?”

“I figured you guys—”

“No, we ‘doctors’ had nothing to do with that.”

As soon as Mark had won his battle, he ordered his armada to return to Dilo. Dilo was the largest moon of Remora, and home to the humans who guarded the sacred planet of Remora, the headquarters of the Remoran Protectorate, or the Remoran Expeditionary Unit. I fell asleep shortly after my talk with Wright, and when I awoke a day later, my leg had healed, and I found myself talking to this doctor.

“Mr. King, if you have any questions—”

“You have no idea.”

“Ask away.”

I looked to my forearm and saw the tattoo, the tainted skin—the light was faint, but it still moved and swayed in the same pattern. I wanted it gone.

“Get rid of this tattoo on my skin.”

The doctor then sighed and turned off his holoband. He adjusted the eyepiece he wore and positioned his chair towards me.

“We tried.”

“And?”

“It’s not a tattoo. That is your skin; it’s an imprint; we tried to remove it, and when we did it broke a very expensive machine.”

“Well, I don’t feel sorry about that, but how can my skin just . . . change color, instantly?”

“Well, it only stretches from your torso below your neck, above your waist, and before your wrists. This mutation has always been there, but you needed a trigger to see it.”

“Thanks for calling me a freak, Doc.”

“Think, Collin. What did you take? Right before the Crusaders attacked?”

Then I remembered.

“The genome.”

“Precisely. That’s exactly what I thought.”

I slammed my fists on my bed out of frustration. “So what can you do! What can you do to fix me?”

The doctor then laughed and handed me a small vial full of a strange liquid. “You got it all wrong, son; there is nothing wrong with you. Here drink this. It will help you relax; I have a theory as to the nature of your ‘condition.’”

I drank the sweet-tasting liquid as I listened to his tale. It relaxed me to a point where I found it difficult to move from my seat.

“The genome was discovered during humanity’s migration from our depleted motherworld. It was a cure for a virus that had been caused by cosmic radiation. Billions of people died aboard the ships during the plague. They made a discovery, soon after re-engineering the makeup of the strange radiation they generated a cure. And the cure yielded far greater results than a clean bill of health.

“The Alpha Genome, once taken, will cause a human being to live in perfect health for four hundred standard days—never aging, and never succumbing to illness, but still vulnerable to physical contact. Flesh is still flesh, and the genome makes no difference as to how easily it can tear—only how quickly it can be maintained, and repaired.

“After a while, people learned that if the genome is taken once every year, they could grasp a sort of partial immortality. But flesh could still be torn, and reproductive abilities would cease. If your heart or your brain stops functioning, not even the genome can bring you back from death.”

“This is all common knowledge, Doc, can you get to the point?”

“The Alpha Genome is about as understood as the human brain. It’s a re-engineered phenomenon; we clicked it just right for it to do what it does. Now to my point, one out of every one billion people who take the genome will be able to reproduce. I’ve never heard of a child surviving such a birth—except for one. A child born under extraordinary circumstances.”

I jumped out of my seat when a nurse darted into the room and rushed towards us. “Doctor!”

“What is it, Nurse?”

“Alberts is flatlining!”

The doctor then shot out of his chair and rushed out of the door with the nurse. “Did you give him a genome injection!”

“Yes, sir! It did nothing!”

“All right, give me 50 cc’s of—”

Before my curiosity had resided, they were gone. Once again I was all alone in a strange and unfamiliar place. So I did what anyone would have done after facing such a dilemma: I decided to leave. I couldn’t be in the company of those who rescued me, knowing I would have no way to repay them.

At the time I did not believe in fate or destiny, so I decided to ignore my mutation and continue living my life as I always have: moving forward without thinking about the consequences of negligence.

I had formulated a plan in my mind. I would follow these Remorans back to their home world, and after that, I would jump ship on the GDR capital of Arcadia and begin a new gravball career.

I pondered my future as I sat on the medical table of the infirmary aboard the carrier. It was there that I would very soon learn that fate most certainly does exist, and I would come to realize this in ways I could never have comprehended.

{>-Legate Ivan Lennin-<}

-The Salaran Citadel-

Ivan scratched his eyelids as he walked out into the hangar to greet his king. The Suns had just risen, and they shone down upon the smoldering carcass of the Hammer. It was a cold winter morning in Salaras.

The bitter cold only further expressed the damage the Hammer had accumulated. The freezing temperature highlighted the heat coming off its crumbling skeleton. When Arcoh had decided to power down the Hammer’s shields to break through Minerva’s atmosphere, the Hammer suffered significant damage. The smoke from the hull alone was so thick it could be seen for hundreds of kilometers, pouring out of the mountain base’s custom-built exhaust ports.

Arcoh left the Hammer and looked on at the thousands of men and women who were working diligently to repair the flagship. Metal welding sparks flew across the catwalk as Arcoh made his way over to Ivan, who was observing the newly visible metal and iron skeleton of the bulky Hammer.

“How are things in Salaras, my legate?”

“They tell me that the Hammer had suffered significant damage in the evacuation attempt.”

“Maybe you don’t remember. The pain distracted you. They were waiting for us. They had a plan, Ivan.”

“I don’t remember. We had a plan too, sir.”

Arcoh responded with a grim look on his face, feeling still in shock of the events that had transpired. “We stood no chance; their entire fleet had converged at the edge of Rayden. We were not prepared to deal with a full-scale invasion. What took us almost a month to complete our mission became ruined in a matter of hours.”

“Well, lucky you brought the Hammer back, sire, and managed to save some six million of our soldiers. How many ships were there?”

“There were roughly thirty carriers and some three hundred warships.”

Ivan turned towards Arcoh and broke his collected composure, which he was already trying very hard to maintain.

“Three hundred? How do three hundred ships end the lives of tens of millions of soldiers!”

“Enough of your insubordination, Ivan. They had a weapon.”

Arcoh and Ivan continued to walk down the busy catwalk full of scurrying workers. Ivan was beginning to cease his outrage. He was furious at the fact the greatest army in all of Eden had suffered its first significant defeat since Arcoh first took the throne twenty-five years ago. A failure the people of Salaras would not forget.

“A weapon?”

“Yes, Ivan, we have to obtain it.”

“How do you plan on doing that?”

Arcoh smiled and kept the plan he had to himself as an officer ran up behind him tapping him on the shoulder. “Your Eminence! General Green and the council request your presence immediately, sir! If you will be so kind as to follow.”

Ivan spoke out before they headed towards the edge of the hangar.

“What is the meaning of this summons, Lieutenant?”

“I was only told to bring the both of you to the consulate.”

Arcoh smiled and gestured to the young officer. “Lead the way.”

Arcoh and Ivan followed the messenger through the elegant hallways of the Salaran citadel. Gigantic thirty-meter-tall hallways built of gold and white iron paved the limestone passageways of the vast army’s headquarters. Lined with statues of previous emperors that rose almost to the circular ceiling, covered by artwork taken from cathedrals of old Earth. If one were to stand at the edge of these passageways, the vast plains of Salaras open up to a beautiful landscape.

The citadel of Salaras lies within the lonely mountain range that overlooks the marshlands leading to the golden city of Caldor: named after the first king of the old-world nation. It was a beautiful city built of golden steel and skyscrapers that commanded the horizon. There was no doubt in the fact that the Salaran Kingdom boasted a very elegant feel to their many occupied worlds. With that elegance came sign

ificant cost in the equality among the kingdom’s people.

95 percent was the working class, and

4.99 percent was the government

and military.

Arcoh was the last in his bloodline, and he made sure of it by murdering all but a few of the remaining royal family members. He needed that to push himself beyond his limits, beyond morality. He needed to create a name for himself, a legacy. He told his world that he was necessary for their survival. He convinced himself that he was a necessary evil.

Arcoh and Ivan had arrived at the giant double doors of the consulate. Arcoh stopped the lieutenant from opening the double wooden doors, and his legate sensed his hesitation.

“Are you nervous, Your Grace?”

“What a ridiculous question, Ivan. I refuse to dignify a response to that.”

“The denizens of Salaras have heard of your failure, and talk of revolution may soon be at hand. Kings have been overturned before, sir.” Arcoh stopped and stared at Ivan expressing the anger he felt within his heart. “Will you be the one, Ivan! Do you have what it takes to rule the largest nation in Eden?”

Ivan backed away from Arcoh and looked down at his feet. The commander was afraid of his king.

“Your Grace, I will always remain loyal to you.”

They entered the commissary filled with Salaran generals who all looked very concerned. The thirty of them sat around a circular table. The generals wore white and red suits, and most of the men wore four-star emblems on their shoulders. General Hayden Green sat in Arcoh’s throne, as he was the acting emperor in Arcoh and Ivan’s absence.

When he noticed their arrival, he stood upright and placed both his hands firmly on the table.

“Glad to see you alive and well, Your Eminence.”

“How were things in my absence?”

“Quite unchanged, Your Grace. The cabinet has called you here to discuss how the events of your campaign had transpired. Why don’t you take a seat?”

“I don’t plan on staying long, General.”

“How many soldiers are dead, sir?”

Arcoh folded his arms and became slightly nervous, which was very abnormal for him. If anything the generals should’ve been worried. The words of his military commander weighed heavily on his conscience. He may have thought for a moment that he was right, but it only lasted a moment.

“Twenty-seven million men were stationed in the fringe sector after the purge of the Raydenites. We managed to evacuate about a quarter of those forces.”

General Harland, a seasoned commander who sat in the seat in front of Arcoh, spoke out against the generals who murmured to each other at Arcoh’s statement.

“Twenty million men and women? What again was your pointless goal of traveling to the fringe sector? I cannot believe we just lost TWENTY million soldiers! That’s almost 5 percent of our entire fighting force. Now, why again did we begin this campaign? To send a message? How is that working for you, my liege?”

Ivan defended Arcoh and glared down at General Harlan.

“Watch your tongue, worm. You will not speak ill of royalty.”

Arcoh stepped forward to the edge of the table and announced his resolve.

“Gentlemen, please. The purge will go down as the most successful military campaign in history. Fourteen billion are dead; only 5 percent of their population remains. We have completed our first step into creating a new Eden, our first step in dividing the choices that halt our evolution as a species.”

General Green tapped his hands on the table and took the seat back on the throne.

“No one denies the success of your campaign, sir. You were correct in anticipating the GDR’s stance, but what of these Remorans?”

Arcoh stood in silence for a moment pondering a response he could use to persuade the cabinet members. “We would have destroyed them had it not been for their weapon.”

“Elaborate for the cabinet if you would, sir.”

Arcoh cleared his throat and adjusted his stance.

“Hard to describe, never seen anything like it. They blocked out the skies by manipulating the atmosphere and completely disabling our off-planet communications.” Arcoh stepped forward and slammed his fists on the table. “Gentlemen, ladies, we must obtain this power! Without it, we cannot move forward with our final resolution.”

General Harland could no longer hold his tongue and gave his King a piece of his mind. “You have exterminated an entire race of people in this plan to bend all of Eden to your will. You are a psychotic monster and will stop at nothing to get what you want. Even after you have reached your objective, after you control everything, you will still crave for more! I’ve seen the hunger before. You have a sickness. Your cowardice is the only thing that had saved your life. You should’ve died holding onto that world! A captain should always go down with his ship.”

Arcoh slowly looked over to Harland feeling furious and weak at his true statement. Arcoh knew his words to be true, but he refused to accept them. “With great victory comes great sacrifice, Mr. Harland. And you would do well to know your place.”

“I know my place. It is right here. Between you and the great people of this nation. I am not afraid to speak my mind anymore! I would rather die than see you as the emperor of Eden. DON’T YOU ALL SEE WHAT WE ARE BECOMING!”

No one in the room acknowledged Harland as they feared to defy royalty. For what would happen next is the result of defiance.

“My legate will oblige you then.”

Ivan stepped up behind General Harland and picked him up by his throat. Ivan raised his other hand as Harland squirmed. Ivan sighed and even felt a little hesitation as he twisted his hands and broke Harland’s neck. Ivan wore a distressed look as he threw Harland’s body onto the round table.

“An example of what will happen to all who defy their true king.”

The cabinet remained silent at Arcoh’s gesture and stared at him as he stepped back from the table and straightened out his cape.

“Now. I have a mole inside of the Remoran Expeditionary Unit it would seem. They made contact with me a fortnight ago and provided me with some valuable information on the location of this alien weapon. Success is close at hand, my friends. We will destroy these Remorans. We will remove them from history, and then we will conquer Eden, and salvage what is left of the human race. This meeting is concluded—oh and someone please dispose of my subordinate here.”

Arcoh flung his cape as he exited the room through the giant double doors and Ivan followed behind him. Ivan began to wonder what Arcoh’s intentions were, and how detrimental they would be to his soldiers in the months that lied ahead. His soldiers being his number one priority.

In the still of the night, I lied “asleep” in my bed. My head was swirling around, trying to make sense of this new world that had presented itself before me. I cracked open my eyelids and noticed that Virgil had just entered the room with the ship’s doctor. I laid silent and listened to their conversation.

“How long has he been asleep for?”

“He finally laid down about a couple of hours ago.”

“Thank Eden for that. Poor damn kid. If only I had been there.”

Virgil sat down in a chair opposite me. Earlier I had separated the curtains of my room to look out of the porthole, which gave me a good line of sight into their dimly lit conversation.

“All right then, Captain. How long has it been since your last injection?”

“Hmm. Been ’bout, 130 standard days.”

The doctor seemed puzzled by his answer.

“How old are you? How long ago did you receive your first injection?”

Virgil shook his head and lit up a cigarette.

“Hey, what is that, Captain? You can’t do, whatever it is, you can’t smoke in here.”

“Yeah, Doc, I’ve heard it before, partna. Old-world habits are a bitch to kill. This is called a cigarette, and I’m smoking it when you inject me. Feel free to try and stop me.”

I smiled as the doctor shook his head and took a genome capsule out of his front pocket.

“Answer the question, please.”

“Oh, my age? Heh, I honestly don’t know. I remember Mother Earth.”

“You’re telling me you are over 1,500 years old?”

“Something like that. I start to feel withdrawals, the warnings, about every hundred days. I need four of ’em a year, or I will buy that farm, brother. That’s what the doctors tell me at least.”

The doctor looked surprised receiving this information. Most people who accept the Alpha Genome would stop taking their injections after an average of 250 years.

The people created the population explosion by conceiving as many children as they possibly could before taking the injection. I always thought it was strange that Virgil had never had children, and had no remaining family. I had this sense whenever I asked him about his past—I knew he was guarding secrets.

I thought, personally, that he could no longer remember the life he had before he took the genome. The doctor proceeded to question Virgil. He slipped the injector out of the capsulate, and into his forearm.

“What is keeping you here, in this life? Why go through all the pain of injections?”

Virgil chuckled lightly and took another hit of his cigarette.

“I have been alive so long; I have become lost in the pursuit of defining my purpose.”

“Then why?”

Virgil raised his voice and pointed towards my bed.

“I’ve come close—see that kid right there? The kid that went through hell to be brought here, to us. He is my purpose, long before Mark’s great expedition. I made a promise to someone crucial to me, someone I loved very much. That kid right there is the creation of that darling little girl. He is the reason I go through the pain.”

The doctor removed the injector, and Virgil quickly stood up, he was always so jittery, never able to sit still. Maybe it was all the chemical alterations after so many years of injections. He always had to be doing something, very much like me.

“You care a great deal for him I see.”

“Very much so, partna. I was the one who convinced the Good Commander to liberate the Raydenites—all because of him. Mark owed me one favor, and now I’ve cashed it in.”

“So what now, trying to be a father figure to him?”

Virgil smirked and stood up, slowly making his way towards my bed.

“Well now I need a drink, I am a creature of habit. But no, the kid doesn’t need a father right now. He needs a friend. I would follow him to the end of time if he needed me to.”

I knew at that moment Virgil discovered I was not asleep at all. I suppose when you’ve known someone at the beginning of your life, even if you’ve spent years apart, they always know when you are listening. It’s presence, a sixth sense, the personal sense.

“There are always things to live for, Doctor; purpose be damned.”

Virgil winked at me through the crack in the curtain as the doctor signaled over to him.

“Commander Wyman sent in for a specialist for Mr. King. He thinks she will help him better understand his condition.”

“That’s my calling then. Come on, Doc, a few drinks won’t kill ya.”

“No, they won’t. Lead the way, Captain. So? How much do you remember of Mother Earth?”

“Now that intel’s gonna cost you at least six drinks.”

Their conversation dissipated as they stepped out into the hallway. Virgil had warmed my heart a little. I’m sure he knew how desperate I was to seek answers in this place where only questions seemed to be found.

I needed fresh air. I bolted out of my bed and searched for something to wear. I could’ve taken the other patients’ clothing, but I am a very fashion-conscious person—all of their tastes were awful. It wasn’t until then that something caught my eye, right there on the door.

There was a storage capsulate sitting on the table directly next to the exit. I walked up to it and saw my name inscribed in bright, glowing letters.

I popped open that palm-sized capsule, and put on the dark cargo pants and brown utility jacket that came out of it.

I wandered around the halls of the Alexandria aimlessly for what was probably a few hours. I felt like I was losing my grip on reality—making myself crazy with these new emotions churning in my stomach. All of these new feelings and surroundings were about to make me burst. At least the halls were desolate—the still of the night had taken hold of the ship.

I wound up in front of a giant porthole through which I saw the dark side of the ocean planet. The light created by the civilizations living on the planet’s revolving moons bathed the hallway in subtle light.

My brain was tired, sure I wanted to scream, wanted to release, but even the Iceman has his limits.

I felt in my pocket of my jacket and found something. It may have been the only thing left that reminded me of my past. It was a pendant that I thought I lost years ago. It belonged to my mother, who died during my birth. Virgil came through for me, somehow he found these clothes of mine and saved them before the purge.

I clutched the pendant very tight until my hands started to shake.

I dropped to my knees and began to sob. Once again I had been reminded of how much I had lost. I was starting to realize how that simple notion would never leave me—I will always see reminders of my past, no matter how far away I run.

Just then I felt a touch; I knew immediately it was Virgil. He had that old-man smell to him—so damned old—plus he always reeked of alcohol and cigarettes, which didn’t help his already rugged appearance.

“Collin? Something wrong, man?”

“No, no. I’m all right.”

“You’ve been crying.”

“I am not crying! I was er . . . tying my shoe.”

“Ha! Sure, kid. Whatever you say.”

I wiped the sad expression away from my face and looked away from Virgil. Virgil searched around his shirt pocket, pulled out his pack of smokes, and presented one to me after he lit his.

“Smoke? You look like you could use it.”

“No. I’m fine.”

“No. You ain’t fine. Talk to me, man.”

I leaned over the railing and continued my stare at the glory of the Remoran civilization. I had been waiting to say something to Virgil. He lived on Minerva for a very long time, so I know he could relate. I needed to bond with somebody I knew that, beyond a doubt, I could rely on. There was no better candidate than him, but first, we needed to clear the air.

“Virgil?”

“Tell me already.”

“I saw so many of our people. Die. My people, Virgil. Fourteen billion people are gone. I can’t get over this feeling; I want to forget. And I tear between another feeling. I’m going to kill Arcoh to justify what he did to everyone I love. I don’t know where to go; I don’t know what to do. You gotta—”

“Kid?”

Virgil let out a goofy smile as we stared at each other; I laughed slightly as he did this.

“Something funny? Old man?”

“Oh yeah, kid.”

“I can’t believe you just cracked that smartass smile at me just now! I should punch you! I’m pouring my heart out here—and you just laugh?”

Virgil sighed then shook his head staring back out at the porthole.

“You can’t go back; you think you no longer have a home, like me.”

“Because of that bastard Arcoh I’m doomed to drift forever like you.”

Virgil sat in silence for a moment and began to play with the rag that hung around his neck. “Collin, for people like us, home is not where you were born, or grew up. Home is a place where you spread your influence. They are places, communities; you give life to these places—they become your home. Minerva may be gone, but it is not the only home you have left.”

“You mean all of Eden is my home?”

“I imagine with your reputation in the gravball league, especially after surviving the purge, that it would not be hard to find others to accept you willingly. People take pity when they hear ’bout those sorts of things, even more so when they stumble across a survivor like yourself. They just don’t understand why we are destined to wander.”

“So we are wanderers now?”

“You can be if you choose to, kid. I wander because of my history; maybe you will too after you realize all you leave behind in the pursuit of greatness. Maybe if you follow us, you will understand what it will take to change the world, because I know that is what you want beyond anything.”

I felt like all of the emotions began to surface at that moment; I even began to tear up slightly as I turned towards Virgil. I needed to vent, and I furiously tried to hide the tears that kept longing to roll down my cheeks.

“So this Remoran army you serve for, this is your new home? What does that say for me? I’m supposed to be an idol, a shining star, how could I with the awful things I have done to people? I treated even you, Virgil, like complete dirt and forced you away. I can’t believe you came back.”

Virgil laughed and placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Kid, you worry far too much. I understand you must have a lot of repressed feelings. I was never far away, Collin; I left because you no longer needed me. You know—your father used to tell me something.”

I turned towards him, intrigued. mention my father for some time.

“He used to say: don’t fear the fall when the leap will set you free.”

I smiled as warm memories of my father came subtly back to me.

“I don’t know if I can ever forgive him, maybe I forced him away.”

“No, kid, your dad left for personal reasons.”

“Is he alive do you think?”

“Don’t know; haven’t seen him in fifteen years.”

We sat in silence for a moment. Then Virgil shot up and cracked his back. He grinned widely and slapped my back as he began to stretch, shortly after finishing his cigarette.

“Well, . . . We, meaning you and me, partner, gotta big day tomorrow. Get some sleep, ya dumb kid.”

“Make sure you wash that liquor out of your beard.”

Virgil left the room and after the sounds of his footsteps had ceased I was all alone, in the silence of that incredible ship.

Of course, I didn’t sleep; I was too excited. The Remorans seriously thought that putting me in a more confined area than my cell was a logical thing to do. I couldn’t wait to be back on the ground; I was never too fond of space—way too dangerous and compact.

Plus I had spent the past three weeks with maybe a total of five hours of sleep, what was a few more without it. It made gravball basic training look like a cakewalk, or so I thought, and I greatly underestimated the circumstances that would unfold once we had achieved planetfall.