Start of a S/F story about a girl wanted by 2 alien races for entirely different reasons. |
D.A.H.G.R.I. (Drex and Human Genome Reality Interface) Prologue “Are you making any progress?” the Drex official asked Seeli, the head researcher at the facility on Dohr-Rhu Six as they paced down a long pale grey corridor with many doors. “I think we have something promising… something for you to take back as proof that your government funds are being well spent.” Seeli paused before a door. The sign indicated Ward III. “Would you like to see?” “By all means.” The official blinked double-lidded, pit-less black eyes and raised a grey toned hand, indicating the door. “You must remember, they are in a seclusion ward, you will only be seeing them through one-way glass.” The Drex official nodded and Seeli opened the door with a keycard. A new hallway opened before them, the walls painted an eggshell white with a red and blue line running down the middle at arms-height. Well, arms-height for a human; the Drex towered over the Faylaxi researcher. At odd intervals down the hallway were observation windows that allowed the researchers to check on their charges unobtrusively. Walking down the hallway, the Drex official peered into several of the rooms as he went, ignoring the fact that Seeli continued ahead. The odd looking children within these closed rooms he had seen before on other visits. Well perhaps not the same children, but ones just like them. He had read the reports. None of these gene-spliced children had ever reached maturity; most died in childhood, the remainder in adolescence. The Drex official glanced down the hall. The head researcher had stopped at the last window and was waiting patiently. Making his way down to the window, he stooped over and looked inside. “You wanted me to see a human child, doctor.” “Oh she’s much more than that, but you’d never know it by looking at her.” “A female… ” The Drex clicked his tongue, making disapproving sounds. “Well yes, we wanted to be able to ensure that we could duplicate her if everything turns out well.” “A female will hold no merit with the chancellors. We want able-bodied males –” “Yes, yes,” Seeli interrupted, “but once we harvest from her, we can produce as many males as you wish.” “Doesn’t that take time, doctor?” inquired the Drex. “Ah… well… yes. She’s only five now, but –” “Time is not something we have on our hands.” Turning away, the Drex official walked down the hallway and out the door while the head researcher rung his hands. *** The attack by the Vartan on the Drex race began not long after the government official visited Dohr-Rhu Six. Soon after, supplies and finally money stopped filtering down from the nearly non-existent Drex government. The Drex home planet was nearly destroyed and the race scattered itself across the galaxies. The Drex had for the last century been a peaceful race. Their goals had been the finding of new species and the spread of their vast knowledge of science and technology. Now they were a race unwanted in the new scheme of things within the universe. The very thought of something being connected to Drex was as lowly as the thought of something being human. When the next Drex spaceship set down on Dohr-Rhu Six some ten years later, the facility had long since shut down and all the inhabitants had left. A lone Drex walked from the abandoned space port to the research facility. After gaining access to the facility, he walled down the silent dust filled corridors until reaching the records room. Once there, he began the search. Days later, he found what he was looking for: the D.A.H.G.R.I. files. They hinted that the experiment had been a success. The child, age eight at the end of the last report, had all interface capabilities of Drex, with none of the race’s frailties. But, it did not tell what had happened to the child. There was a date for the next scheduled report, but none had ever been made. With great feelings of loss, the now defunct official returned to his craft. They had had so much riding on this experiment. If only the Vartan had waited a few decaded, they could have averted so much destruction… Chapter 1: Cubits Dahgri remembered the orphanage; remembered all the times she sat in the VR chair playing silly child’s games. She remembered the ones who ran the orphanage, how they only allowed her ten minutes of information feed a day. She loved the information feed. You could find out anything from almost anywhere within the connected galaxies. “Too much data will burn anyone out,” they always warned. She stared longingly through the doorway of the information café. A young man came up behind her and pushed her aside. His clothes were spotless, hers grubby. He walked over to the desk and handed the older man reading a paper a cubit. Looking up, the older man glanced around at the VR units; most were in use. He spotted one in the corner, near the back exit and pointed it out to the customer. Dahgri leaned farther in the doorway, wanting to catch a glimpse of what the young man was doing. “Get outa here, boy, you don’t belong here!” yelled the older man as he saw her hanging on the doorframe. When she didn’t move immediately he stood, intent on chasing her away, she didn’t wait any longer. She raced down the street and turned the corner. No footfalls followed her and she stopped running. Taking a deep breath, she leaned her head against the building. Her pulse finally slowed. She continued down the street, then turned onto the next, circling around to the back of her intended target. Dahgri reached the back door of the information café and peered through the glass. The clerk had his back to her, intent on his paper again. A woman stepped back from one of the many units. Walking to the back of the café, she pulled the door open and exited. Dahgri watched her go and then glanced at the unit the woman had left. It was counting down to disconnect. Already it was at twelve. Dahgri eyed the clerk, the station was across from him and he’d surely see her take the post. She saw the unit shutdown but had already lost interest in it. Leaning against the wall, she bided her time, looking occasionally in to see if the young man was still there. As was normal for most working people with V-jobs, the young man stayed at his station for several hours. Others entered and exited the café but still Dahgri waited. Her stomach grumbled and she chewed on a fingernail. No cubits meant no food. Two more people exited, bumping into her. They didn’t spare her a second glance. Her grubby street clothes put her beyond their notice. Without papers she had no way to get anything except the most mundane, abysmal paying, slag jobs available. Usually these consisted of hard hand-labor or degrading jobs that more worthy citizens of the different nations wanted nothing to do with. But she had no papers, no identity within the real universe. She was just one of the unknowns, and they weren’t worth anything. To get anywhere, one needed an id. With an id, and either the right marks from schooling or some cubits, one could get a UI, an uplink implant. With a UI, someone could get a job practically anywhere in the universe, doing just about anything for good honest pay. She stared at her image in the glass. Blue-green eyes showed her a thin child-like figure that hid the fact she was nearly sixteen. Short black hair with blue streaks belayed the fact that she was female. She dreaded the day that anyone discovered she was not male. Female nobodies were often abused, and their complaints would always go unattended by officals. Beeps awoke her from her daydream. The door pushed open and the young man exited, oblivious to her presence. She counted to five and slipping inside the door before it closed. Her eyes went to the clerk. He was eating now, and still reading his paper. She looked at the unit. Seven, Six, Five, Four… She stepped onto the id plate and placed her hand on the UC, uplink connector. The countdown stopped. The screen before her returning to its original data feed: a news editorial. The young man had been a data collector for some agency. Keying up the cubits listing, she changed it from account pay to direct pay and waited. The system acknowledged the change and brought up the next list of items for data collection. With a smile, she started to scan the data waves in search of the information. Any time she found something that matched, she captured it and fed it into the news editorial. It was a menial task and her fingers punched keys on the hand pads endlessly. “Hey, you! What do you think you’re doing!” She hit the cubits key and stepped off the unit. The system began to countdown as the cubit dispenser spit out a handful of cubits into the tray. She grabbed the cubits and raced for the exit only four steps beyond her. A hand descended on her shoulder and she shook it off as she slid to the ground. Some of the cubits scattered as she scampered crab-like out the door. Ignoring them, she took off down the street as the man continued to yell obscenities at her in several different languages. “They’re all over the place, Dag. What the hell were you doin’, man?” Coco asked, a Farren unknown who sometimes shared the deserted second floor of the Ictra Building. The entire building was condemned and this floor in particular was extremely dangerous and had been walled off, so it was a common place for unknowns to hide when someone was after them. “Just getting us dinner.” She opened her hand, and displayed the cubits. She smiled as she saw the Farren change colors, his skin tone matching his mood. He went from brick red to lavender blue. “Why, did they stop you on the street?” “Yeah, three times! The id from Dament bit the dust on the last pass.” Dament was a smuggler they knew. He trafficked in anything he could get his hands on, and for the right price, he could make ids. But they usually didn’t last very long seeing as how the coding on them seemed to always be degrading. Dag cursed. She had been planning on using it along with some of the cubits to get them a place for a day or two and some of the luxuries that came with it. Shoving the cubits into a pocket, she looked out the window at the troopers patrolling the streets. They must have realized she hadn’t left the quadrant. “Looks like we’ll be sitting this one out, Coco,” she murmured. “That’s okay, Dag. All I want is a full stomach anyways,” Coco said, running a webbed hand over his smooth hairless head. “Me too. We’ll wait for shift change, then go down to the Kwanin district. Food’s cheap there.” With plans set, Coco pulled a holo-die from his pocket and tossed it in the air. “Care for a wager?” |