\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/action/view/entry_id/983887
Image Protector
Rated: ASR · Book · Sci-fi · #2222221
This is the beginning of a novel set earlier in the timeline of stories than Hellhounds.
<<< Previous · Entry List · Next >>>
#983887 added December 31, 2020 at 4:12am
Restrictions: None
Chapter 1 --- What's News

Annette Peterson was eighteen years old. She had wavy brunette hair and hazel eyes. She was pretty, but not particularly eye-catching. Still, sitting in the glass-walled room of her office, she was on the radar of everyone outside in the operations room. She was the Chief factor, head of the inter-universal problem-solving group called The Factors. She was also chief of Refuge, the new home for the factors she designed and had constructed.

Refuge comprised several caverns, each covering thousands of square miles, which Annette and her team had artificially transformed to look like a planetary surface. Refuge was hundreds of times larger than its predecessor, Sanctuary, with more than twice the population, even if you don’t count the animals and extreme environments for training. Sanctuary had been corridors in rock; Refuge was coastal and rural, even alpine in places, not to mention its cities. Within Refuge, over fifty thousand people, factors, and civilians looked to Annette as their leader.

Annette looked out the window to survey the Eden-like landscape. She tapped a control on her desk to reduce the window tinting, so she could see everything in its correct color. It was a bright shining morning, but you couldn’t tell that from Annette’s mood.

Annette threw up her hands and telekinetically closed the shades in her office. Sealing the door and activating the soundproof shields, she let out a scream. Then she telekinetically threw the piles of pop-pads and paper files into the air forming a pretty maelstrom of them before landing them safely and in the proper order back on the desk. To say she was a little frustrated would not even come close to saying enough. No wonder Angela had abdicated so quickly and quietly when she had the chance.

Being the chief factor couldn’t have been a picnic back in Sanctuary when the population had been less than half as large, mainly because it was no picnic now. People had been swamping her with complaints and minor annoyances since the moment she left the platform back in the arrival field. The factors had soon swarmed on her, begging for new assignments and assessments of their reports. The list of weights being hoisted like flour sacks onto her still-stunned shoulders was reaching through the fog of her mind. She had to have her minor meltdown now, or it would squeeze her out thin like expired toothpaste from a punctured tube under the foot of an elephant.

The glass of her door rattled and Annette smoothed her hair and papers before opening the shades and waving whoever it was in. “Whoever” was Carl, good, faithful, always-there-to-hand-her-just-what-she-needed-when-she-needed-it-Carl.

Carl entered with a smile, “Good morning Chief.”

Annette glared at him. This morning he smelled very much the Briaunti he was. So was she, but she couldn’t smell herself. Careful, she thought, a pairbond lies down that route. Carl would probably think it annoying if she formed a pairbond. Annette reached into her drawer and pulled out the small chap-stick like container of scent suppression cream she had hidden away there. It would suppress her highly honed sense of smell. She dabbed it beneath her nostrils and put it back away.

“Annette, you are forgetting something,” Carl said with a wry grin.

Annette’s glare deepened, “What this time?”

“Morning briefing with primes and department heads,” Carl answered, grabbing the pertinent pop-pad and handing it to her.

Annette grimaced sardonically, “Oh no! How could that have happened.”

Carl laughed back and produced a chocolate-glazed doughnut. He dangled it in front of her nose. Annette reached for it and he backed away, “Nope, go to the meeting there are doughnuts there, fresh ones.”

Annette grunted and headed out the door past him. A view as breathtaking as hers blessed the rest of the office. While the “sunlight” outside was artificial, it seemed natural, with a very sol-like spectrum. Annette headed on beyond the operations center to the solid concrete walls of the briefing room. It was dungeon-like in its lack of view. Annette’s team had designed it to keep peoples’ minds on what was being said. She only had herself to blame for that, not knowing that she would have to go to meetings there every day.

Annette entered the room. Everyone else was already present. Annette glanced around the room at mostly friendly faces, some though held the slightest hint of resentment. She had attained her position at the whim of her predecessor, Angela. Not everyone was glad to have a boss so young.

She sat at the head of the oval-shaped table, everyone’s eyes fastened on her in anticipation. This was only her third briefing. “Okay, who’s first.”

“Chief,” Erica, a prime factor in charge of monitoring lesser factors, spoke up, “Yllera is on her way, we know she’s not an active factor, but she wanted to talk to you.”

A moment later Yllera Vllett came bustling through the door, “Sorry, chief.” Yllera took a seat by Erica, while Annette checked through her memory and her pop-pad for as much information as she could recall on Yllera.

Annette remembered the incident a few years back when Yllera used her Agurian shape-shifting abilities to transform a simple marine creature into an Agurian like her. That transformed creature, Kavir, had then used its natural coalescent abilities to infiltrate Sanctuary and kidnap Yllera. A captivity Yllera had only recently returned from. The pop-pad brought up Yllera’s history as the first factor to make amicable contact with the Agurians of Jelaria.

Annette looked to Yllera, “How about convincing some of your Agurian friends to take up residence in our desert, they can even design their own warrens, and we’ll build them to order.”

Yllera nodded, “I could do that, but I wanted to talk about something else that I am concerned about. I’m worried about Riiad.”

Penelope Harvey, an elder Briaunti factor, who looked anything but old, stopped her knitting, “Don’t be silly, dear. I took care of that decades ago.”

“The possibility of a Riiad collective is something other than the dark, which should concern us. The first one was almost as devastating to the universe as the Interdimensional Empire which preceded it,” Yllera argued vehemently.

“We destroyed Riiad. We wiped all of its elements from existence. It isn’t possible for it to recur!” Sinclair Chavez, head of research and development, growled. Annette sided with Yllera just based on his opposition to her words. Annette had a less than happy past with Chavez; he had opposed Annette even becoming a factor.

Yllera negated the need for support, she just started again, “No, I’m using the term Riiad for any of an entire class, of consumptive collective organisms that absorb other intelligent species. They are something different, more of a coalescent organism. They may have cybernetic elements, but their strengths are in their diverse biological elements. The elements of a Riiad collective can vary but must include elements from each of seven basic groups, descriptively designated as R-groups. The order of combination can numerically designate different collectives in which the parts combined, or descriptively by listing component organisms.”

Sinclair frowned, “That sounds like a lot of pretty made up crud. What did you do to practice your creative writing skills?”

Yllera glared at Chavez for a moment before speaking, “No, I was quoting from the public files of the chief of medical services, or at least summarizing. He says that a Riiad could form spontaneously or as the result of a conscious plan. Typically, they are insatiable in their drive to absorb other intelligent species, with a malicious tendency towards evil. The combination of elements from the first and seventh R groups is the is starting event. It usually happens only after the seventh element has absorbed elements from the other five groups. So, clearly, at the time of the destruction of the last Riiad it concerned him enough to record the possibility.”

Annette held up her hands to forestall any more out of Chavez, “Yllera, will it satisfy you if Tina looks at your research?”

Yllera nodded, “I also wanted to confirm that there is no way that Kavir can get in here. What he did to me... I love Ariel, but still...”

Annette frowned and looked to Chavez, “Sinclair, the shields?”

Chavez seemed to puff up at her direct inquiry, “They are as good if not better than Sanctuary’s. I’d guess he couldn’t but I can’t honestly say for sure. Though I doubt, he could do it the same way as last time. The fantastic news is that the dark is having one heck of a time trying to destroy us, with no success. Our new time-space bubble is shaking off crunch bombs like water off the duck’s back.”

“So there’s nothing you can do to protect my wife?” A young Briaunti man sitting behind Erica blurted.

“Max, calm down. Kavir didn’t sound like he would try for me again, I was just checking Mazepulm,” Yllera said reaching out to rest a hand on his arm.

Annette smiled, it was nice to see a devoted pair. Annette rubbed her finger across the dabs of scent suppression cream, then self-consciously glanced down at her pop-pad. “Tina, are you okay with looking over Yllera’s research?”

Tina looked up from her pop-pad, startled, “Yes, what?”

Annette grinned wryly, “Are you okay with looking over Yllera’s research?”

Tina nodded and looked to Yllera, “Yes, just mail it to me, okay?”

“Good,” Annette said, “Now what’s next?”
- - - - - - - - - - - -

Carl Miller stared at the concrete bunker where the morning meeting was going on. Annette was still in there. The meeting had run over its usual hour and a half. Carl was jonesing for another minute with her. It was because of his biggest secret. Carl had formed a pairbond with Annette, while he was still recovering right after his metamorphosis. She had wandered into the metamorphic isolation ward and he had fallen for her completely.


The meeting room door cracked open and people streamed out. Annette was last. Her arms were full of file folders and the prototypes of new factor-devices which needed her approval. Carl leaped up and went to relieve her of her burdens. He would do anything for her but tell her he loved her. She had made it clear she didn’t share his bond. The idea she might form such a bond seemed to aggravate her. He didn’t miss her regular application of scent suppression cream. It hurt, but he tried not to act as hurt as he was.

“Carl, I need you to do a deep archival search about the spread of the Riiad collective. I want personal journals from public storage, news stories. Assign people to interview people involved with combating the collective. If you can, get me details on exactly how we stopped it,” Annette instructed as she marched towards her office.

She palmed open the door and held it for Carl to carry in her papers. Carl placed them carefully in her inbox. “Got it, research Riiad. Can I ask why?”

Annette frowned, “Yllera Vllett has a gut feeling. I don’t know if it is contagious or not, but my gut is curious about it now.”

“Do you want me to contact Angela? She was chief during the advance of the collective,” Carl asked.

Annette shook her head. Her mahogany hair danced around her head like a chocolate halo. Carl had trouble following her words. “No, find what you can without her for now. She’s well and thoroughly retired, but she hasn’t gotten to enjoy that state very long. I’ll contact her if you don’t find what I need.”

“May I draft help or is this under a security protocol?”

Annette closed her brown eyes, to consider it. Carl felt deprived of their depth. “Go ahead call in help. What is Net up to?”

“She is still studying. She and the rest of the gang got bumped up to the fifth year, but they are still officially trainees. I would be too, but I just couldn’t let you have all the fun...”

Annette blinked at him. “I forget that not everyone got promoted. Thanks for being here for me, Carl. You know you could finish training too. I mean, then you could look forward to the field and stuff.”

Carl blanched at that idea. He didn’t think he could live if he weren’t practically at Annette’s side every day. “Nah, I enjoy being in the middle of stuff too much!”

Annette laughed, “Just stay out of trouble, okay? Don’t aggravate people while you look for what I need...”

“No problem Chief,” Carl left her office and went to his desk to transfer his schedule and connections to a pop-pad he could take down to the archives. She wanted information. He would arm her with as much as he could get.
- - - - - - - - - - - -

Tina took a breath. She didn’t have time to take a breath. Latoya, Tina’s receptionist knocked on Tina’s office door, “Your ten o’clock is here, Dr. Harvey. Your ten-thirty is too.”

Tina pulled her thoughts together and went to the exam room for the first appointment. It was a young human mother and her five-year-old son. It took Tina one sniff to diagnose the problem. The kid had the measles. Something that was disturbingly common in the last several months.


The shields around Refuge were even better at keeping out pathogens than the ones around their former home, Sanctuary. There shouldn’t be a measles epidemic. Unfortunately, in the haste to settle Refuge, they hadn’t followed some basic health protocols and some sick people had made it into Refuge. Right now the most prominent infection she was dealing with was the measles epidemic on the floors of emergency housing, known as crash pads, in which human refugees had preferentially settled. People informally called those levels, “Human Town.” Tina would like to have a few choice words with those responsible for the outbreak. She had to sigh. It could be worse. It could have been polio or smallpox.

Tina glanced at her pop-pad, “Mrs. Gordon, your son, Flash… seriously, ‘Flash Gordon?' “Tina shook her head, “Sorry, your son Flash has the measles. I don’t know why you didn’t have him vaccinated against them… but I will administer all the other recommended vaccines and an antiviral effective for keeping measles complications at a minimum. He will need boosters in six months for some of them.”

Tina ordered an omnijector filled with the vaccines and medication and turned back to the boy.

“Are you sure your medicines are safe? I have heard they can cause autism...” Mrs. Gordon objected.

Tina sighed and held the omnijector up in her right hand, “Even if the vaccines on your world had anything to do with autism, which most of my research says isn’t the case, this is not the same as any of that. Galactic society has been using these medications for thousands of years. The side The side-effects are minimal and include an occasional itchy rash at the point of administration. That is about as bad as they get.”

“Oh, okay...”

Tina took that as permission and quickly injected the boy. Tina tapped her pad and scheduled the second vaccination appointment in six months. She sent a reminder to the woman’s personal data organization program. “Don’t forget the follow-up...”

The nervous mother nodded. Tina ushered her out and went to the next waiting room. Her nose told her it was more of the same. She had taken care of half a grade-school worth of cases in the last month. Tina’s ten-thirty was waiting with the right guess.

“Measles?”

Tina nodded and filled another omnijector with the same cocktail and scheduled another follow-up. Tina retreated to her office and was sitting at her desk again by ten-fifteen. She looked over her schedule. Her next appointment was with half a dozen incoming medical professionals who wanted to become certified members of Refuge’s medical team.

These nurses from “Human Town,” all had at least ten years of experience as registered nurses on their earths. They had been studying since they arrived to familiarize themselves with the advanced technologies of Refuge. They had also had to learn the basics of dozens of humanoid species new to them.

Of the thirty-five thousand new refugees that had joined their population since the move from Sanctuary, a large number had medical training. Gene, the head of medical services, had left Tina to integrate them into the medical services system. She had to do it as efficiently as possible so they had allotments established to gain permanent housing for themselves and their families.

Tina reviewed this group’s test scores and the personal experience they claimed. With humans, she could confirm the claims telepathically. Doing so was less trusting than Tina liked to be, but she would not risk people’s health. Tina could probably get most of these men and women assigned to supervised rounds this week.

Tina flipped to the next thing on her schedule and on past it. She didn’t even have time to eat until sometime around dinner. That could get preempted by a medical emergency. Out of curiosity, she used the passcodes she had memorized for Gene’s files, in the likely case that he forgot them. According to his schedule, he was on his way to a celebratory brunch with Sinclair Chavez and some other members of Factor Tech R&D. They had just refined an improved system of remote field kits, that would make it almost like factors had the best medical minds of Refuge at their fingertips. He then had a scheduled nap.

A heavy sigh escaped Tina’s lips. Gene was getting old. She worried that his schedule today might be too strenuous for him. It would be funny if he didn’t worry her. Only his frail pride kept Tina from talking to Annette about relieving him of duty. The fact was that medical services in Refuge were pretty much Tina’s ball of wax.
- - - - - - - - - - - -

Illeria greeted the sun from her outrigger sea canoe. The golden rays set her blonde hair shining as though lit from within. She smiled into the warmth of the first rays of morning. This was a good day. She shielded her sea-green eyes from the glare and tried to see the horizon in front of her. On the sea was the place she felt free to be herself.

Formality was the norm in Illeria’s life. She was heir to the house of Kavry. They named Illeria after Yllera the revered mother of all Kaviri. Kavry was the eldest born of the original nine Kaviri children. Kavir, the father of them all, had raised them from birth and taught all of his children concepts that he was slow to learn. Honor, formal interactions, and order were the prime values of the race he had spawned. According to the current patriarch of house Kavry, Illeria’s father, the racial memories she would receive as an element of her ascension would illuminate the origins of their race.

Illeria was first in line for the honor of becoming the matriarch, but only by five minutes. Her slightly younger twin, Kadin, had almost as much of a chance. First though, they must prove themselves worthy. A ritual sea-hunt would provide the food for the feast of her ascension. Her biggest fear was that she could not find enough sea-beasts large enough to feed the people invited to the feast.

That fear was why her brother snuck out to see hours before her hunt. Kadin was more than aware of her anxiety through their intimate telepathic connection, which was all the stronger for having shared a womb. She didn’t ask him to begin the hunt early. He didn’t tell her. Still ten minutes into her hunt, they met at sea in their canoes and he began filling hers with hundreds of pounds of sea-beasts. Illeria didn’t want to cheat the ceremony, but her fear was overwhelming. Kadin had just finished loading her canoe when their father’s canoe came over the waves. Father had caught them. Kadin had clearly done her hunting.

“Illeria! You have shamed yourself and our line. Begone, do not return. Kadin, you will not be Kavry either. Go, hide yourselves in shame!” their father hung his head and reversed his canoe.

Illeria paddled after him, calling his name. He did not hear her. Worse, he would not hear her. Now he had no children. Illeria collapsed forward into her canoe. She got the blood of sea-beast all over her chest and hair. She had no home, no resources, nothing.

“Illeria, we could leave Wegonga. We can make our place out there among the stars!” Kadin seemed almost enthused about their exile. Illeria wondered if he had somehow engineered this exile, at the same time she knew he had not.

“Where should we begin?” Illeria sighed.

“Let’s teleport back to the hut and gather our things before our father can burn them." He had a plan… they followed through.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
© Copyright 2020 Ugly Christmas Sox (UN: rinsoxy at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Ugly Christmas Sox has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
<<< Previous · Entry List · Next >>>
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/action/view/entry_id/983887