Genmate Mistaken (Genmate Dilemma Book 1) Page 2

  She’d been cast to the surface to live among the dregs of Xeno citizenry, who in actuality were few, due to routine cleansing of miscreants and defectives. However, a few slums existed to serve as a warning. How would you know good unless you saw bad? She’d gone from dining on delicacies to pawing through trash for edible scraps.

  Still, it was a mystery as to why she hadn’t been executed. She’d been duly sentenced. Each morning, she expected an execution drone to fly into her ramshackle dwelling and put her out of her misery.

  Would today be the day? Was that why she’d been summoned—to be executed?

  Lala swallowed as the thick, heavy band around her neck seemed to tighten. A moral citizen would have committed suicide, but herian help her, she desired life more than honor, which proved her dishonorable nature.

  Why, Chameleon, why? Their family had served on the High Council for generations. Their sire had served, and his sire before him, and his before him. She wasn’t sure how far back their history of service went because after the discovery of Chameleon’s crimes, their history had been expunged from the unibase. Records of her and Chameleon’s existence had been erased. She walked the planet’s surface, she breathed, she cried, she bled, she starved, but she did not exist. Physical death was merely a technicality, now. She was already dead in the eyes of the law.

  How ironic the High Council intended to execute a person who no longer existed.

  Despite their common DNA, she didn’t know her brother well. Close as children, they’d pursued different tracks as adults. But no matter how distant and aloof he’d become, she never would have fathomed he’d become a traitor. If she had anything to be thankful for, it was that her ignorance had saved her from a gut-wrenching dilemma. Down deep, a tiny part of her wondered if she would have done the right thing and turned him in.

  More proof of her genetic guilt.

  Lala reached the opaque-glassed High Council chamber and swayed with sudden vertigo. She had forgotten what it felt like to walk over wispy clouds. The transparent floor made it appear nothing but air existed beneath her feet.

  She fingered the band locked around her neck. It had worn away the scales, leaving a smooth scar. The necklace alerted everyone to her criminal status, and it prevented her from shifting into another life-form, which might have enabled her to flee. She also suspected it contained a tracking device to assist in her apprehension if she did manage to escape.

  There was no escape.

  Lala lifted her chin and entered the sanctum.

  Chapter Three

  “I’m going to miss you so much. I wish you weren’t leaving.” Kevanne Girardi grabbed Mysk in a fierce hug. He didn’t need to be a mind-reading Verital to detect the sadness wafting off her and his assembled friends, like the lavender from the nearby fields.

  “After five decades on Earth, it’s obvious I don’t have a genetic match here. But my leaving isn’t about me. Many others don’t have genmates, either. If I can locate and reunite the other ’Topians evacuated before the bombardment, everyone will have a larger potential pool.” He parroted the excuse he’d come up with for leaving the people and planet that had been so good to him.

  Kevanne’s genmate, Chameleon, had been a member of the Xeno Consortium High Council when he learned of the campaign to destroy ’Topia. Opposing the bombardment, but powerless to stop it, he’d secretly evacuated as many people as he could. When time ran out and the Xenos attacked, Mysk and a few hundred people on the Dauntless, and Chameleon and five others on the Castaway had fled. The Castaway had arrived on Earth in real time, but a jump-space time warp had hurtled the Dauntless back several decades. They landed fifty years before the other ship.

  While waiting for the Castaway to arrive, Mysk had kept busy. Of all the alien races, Veritals resembled humans the most, and it had been a simple matter to tack “Edwin” onto his name, pass himself off as human, and build a technology empire. But memories of what had been lost, what had been taken from him, from them all, never faded. The image of his sister cut down by a laser as she’d been about to board the Dauntless remained horrifically vivid. He could have had another Verital ease his pain by blurring the memory, but he wished to remember. His sister’s death stoked the vengeful fire burning in his belly.

  If he had been fortunate enough to meet the one woman with whom he shared a genetic bond—she would have given his life meaning, and he might have relinquished his quest for revenge. But decades passed, and his match never materialized. Many found human genmates, but some died without ever mating. Jealous of the former, he despaired of the latter because he foresaw his own destiny. While still in his prime by ’Topian standards, he had lived well past the age when Veritals typically mated.

  The lack of available genmates revealed the threat hadn’t ended when the survivors had found refuge. If their people didn’t mate and reproduce, a once-promising civilization would end.

  As despair deepened, so had hatred and the desire for revenge. The Xenos had to pay for the atrocity they had committed—and Mysk intended to collect the payment.

  He’d hoped to leave Earth sooner, but it had taken nearly five decades to develop a technology capable of defeating the Xenos. Although he had the knowledge and capabilities, he hadn’t had all the necessary equipment, and, until recently, humans hadn’t advanced enough to provide the raw materials. So he’d nurtured their fledgling technology until it had become something he could use.

  Finally, he could leave.

  Although he’d miss his surrogate family and adopted world, the sweet satisfaction of a purpose about to be fulfilled tempered the sadness of leaving. He had a new ship, the Intrepid, a small crew, and the outline of a plan, the details of which would be solidified when he gained more accurate information on what they would be facing.

  “I will miss all of you so much, but I must to do this,” Mysk said.

  “You’re like family,” Kevanne said. “We love you.”

  “I love you all, too,” he said truthfully, but being in a familial group in which everyone else had coupled up emphasized his solitary state.

  “You’ll send regular updates, won’t you?” asked Psy, a Verital like Mysk.

  “I promise I’ll contact you when it’s safe to do so.”

  “Don’t take any chances,” Chameleon warned. “Transmissions could be intercepted.” His blue face twisted with guilt and remorse. “I should be going instead of you, or at least with you—”

  “No, don’t think that way, my friend. You’ve done more than enough by providing the locations of the other haven planets. Without coordinates, there would be no chance of finding them.” Mysk clapped his shoulder. His hatred did not extend to Chameleon, the sole decent Xeno, the exception proving the rule. If not for this Xeno’s willingness to risk his life, every single ’Topian would have perished.

  Besides evacuating thousands, Chameleon had covered his tracks, erasing records of their existence from the consortium’s unibase and preventing them being tracked. He’d done such a good job, even he didn’t remember where he’d sent the refugees. However, he’d retained information in his subconscious, and, with his permission, Mysk had extracted the locations.

  “Besides, you and Kevanne are genmates. You can’t be separated, and you can’t jeopardize her safety by bringing her along,” he added and glanced at the spaceship in the field. His crew waited for him. Four unmated ’Topians had agreed to accompany him—three men and one woman. They had volunteered knowing they would most likely never set foot on Earth again.

  “No, I would never leave Kevanne, but my people destroyed ’Topia, and I feel responsible. I wish I had acted sooner to save more people.”

  “You did everything you could,” Shadow interjected. The Vaporian had been Chameleon’s secret contact on ’Topia and had helped with evacuation. “Because of you, we have a chance to rebuild our civilization.”

  “You risked your life to save all of us,” Wingman said.

  “You’re not like the other Xenos,” Tigre said.

  The Saberian spoke the truth. Chameleon had developed something no other Xeno had—a conscience. There had been a defect in his genetics. If the High Council had had a clue one of their own had gone soft, they would have euthanized him a long time ago.

  Chameleon was the only Xeno Mysk didn’t hate, but he had proven himself, thereby promoting himself to an honorary ’Topian. And he and Mysk shared something in common—they’d both lost sisters.

  In tapping into his friend’s mind, Mysk had learned of the likely death of Chameleon’s sister. Xenos held to the law of genetic guilt. A crime committed by an individual was a crime committed by the entire family line. As soon as it had been discovered Chameleon had assisted the ’Topians, his sister would have been charged with treason and executed.

  He never spoke of his sibling, but Mysk knew he lived with the torment that his effort to save many had led to the death of his sister. It came as little solace that had she learned of his “crime,” she would have turned him in without a qualm. She was a loyal Xeno to the core.

  Mysk squeezed his shoulder and then grabbed him in a bear hug.

  One by one, he bid goodbye to the rest of his surrogate family: Wingman and Delia, Psy and Meadow, Shadow and Mandy, Inferno and Geneva, and Tigre and Kat.

  “Don’t worry about Mysk Industries,” Tigre said. “I’ll run it the way you would have wanted.”

  “It’s yours to run as you wish,” he said. The tech company he’d founded was headquartered in Seattle but also had a secret defense factory in the Nevada desert, where the Intrepid had been built. Disguised as a scientific vessel, his new ship came loaded with advanced military tech and weaponry. The Intrepid didn’t have the firepower to decimate all of Xeno, but it could obliterate Capitol Cit
y and take out several major urban areas on the surface with ammo to spare.

  Tigre grabbed him in a hug and said in a low voice, “I have my handheld. I’ll keep watch for alerts.”

  “Don’t expect any soon,” he whispered and thumped Tigre’s back. News would either be very good or very bad.

  “I hope on your journey you meet your genmate.” Geneva hugged him.

  “We all want that for you,” Meadow said. “I’ll never forget how you helped me find my birth parents. I can’t thank you enough.”

  Next, Shadow’s genmate Mandy stepped up to him, her silk shawl fluttering in the breeze. Her bright, sharp eyes sought his gaze, but then her expression went blank. “Hate is easy. Love takes courage,” she deadpanned before shaking her head. “I don’t know what that means. Do you?” She looked at him for confirmation.

  “The message is meant for me?” he asked, although he didn’t doubt her clairvoyance.

  “Yes.” She nodded. She’d helped Inferno and Geneva meet. However, her visions weren’t always easy to interpret. She’d once advised Tigre to adopt a pet cat. He later met Kat Kelley.

  Hate is easy. Love takes courage?

  Of love, Mysk knew little and expected less. Hate, an ever present companion, he knew all too well. Inasmuch as it motivated him, it was a stain on his soul he preferred to keep to himself.

  “I’ll take it under advisement.” He feigned lightness. After a final round of hugs, he marched across the field and boarded the Intrepid.

  Chapter Four

  Seven council members peered down from their circular riser. Perched higher than the others sat Commandant Chroma, his bland cyan countenance betraying nothing. The oldest and single most powerful Xeno in the consortium, he’d been commandant when Lala’s grandsire had served. He’d known her and Chameleon when they were neonates delivered from the laboratory incubator to their parents. On a couple of occasions, he’d given them sweet treats imported from an alien world.

  She saw no affection or even recognition now.

  The others made no effort to conceal their loathing. Bright-blue hatred mottled Councilwoman Xendra’s face.

  They are going to kill me. Was the necklace she wore an execution device also? Would it tighten and choke her to death? Defensive reflex almost had her grab for it, but she checked the impulse.

  Show no fear. Terror kicked like a living, breathing creature, but she refused to cave to it. She would die with her head held high and proud. More evidence of her guilt. She had nothing to be proud of.

  “By a vote of four to three, the High Council has chosen to commute your sentence,” Chroma intoned.

  She blinked and went weak at the knees. Had she heard him right? For treason, there was no other sentence but death. Could there be something worse than death? She curled her tail tighter around herself in a protective gesture. “Commute it to what?”

  “You do not have permission to speak to the council!” Xendra snapped.

  Lala started to apologize, but Chroma shot an unexpected rebuking scowl at the councilwoman.

  “You have been granted a reprieve to enable you to mitigate the crime you and your brother committed.” Chroma paused. “We have evidence to suggest Chameleon evacuated insurgents to other planets. If they regain strength and numbers, they will regroup and mobilize against us.”

  From the questions shot at her during the interrogations, she had deduced some ’Topians had gotten away, but this was the first time anyone in authority had admitted it. Xenos did not concede if they’d been bested by an opponent.

  “Your sentence is to locate the surviving ’Topians.”

  “I am regaining my military command?”

  “You are stupid as well as traitorous,” Xendra snapped.

  “No,” Chroma said. “But you will have a ship equipped with an AI. When you locate them, you will relay the coordinates, and we will dispatch the appropriate military vessel.”

  She was being sent to help kill the people her brother had given his all to save. “How am I supposed to find them?”

  “You share your brother’s genetics. You better than anyone can figure out what he might have done, where he might have sent them.”

  “There must be thousands of habitable planets and moons in this arm of the galaxy alone. And beyond? It’s infinite.” Finding anyone without coordinates would be like trying to isolate a speck of stardust.

  “Are you saying you are not up to the assignment?” Councilman Kamris spoke. “You would prefer your sentence not be commuted?”

  “No, I am grateful for the opportunity for redemption.”

  “This is mitigation only. There is no redemption for what you and your brother have done,” Xendra said.

  “I misspoke. I apologize, Councilwoman.” How would she ever achieve this? It was an impossible task! She had no idea what Chameleon might have done. They don’t expect me to succeed. They don’t want me to succeed. They’re setting me up to fail. Elites often drew amusement from the struggles of their imperiled creations. Suffering no hardship themselves, they grew bored. Not cruel…well, yes, they could be. She schooled her features to avoid betraying her seditious thoughts.

  But it offered a reprieve. Instead of wallowing in the slums waiting for the execution drone, she’d be out in space again. And maybe she would find the rogue ’Topians. With a good AI, she might be able to narrow down the possibilities to a few hundred. She could eliminate all the obvious choices. Chameleon would never have picked those.

  “If—when I succeed, what happens then?”

  “You will return to live out your life on the planet’s surface,” Chroma said, his expression impassive.

  “When do I leave?”

  “Tomorrow. Report to the space dock in the morning.” He pressed the console button, and the band fell off her neck.

  Lala’s hand flew to her throat. Three years of wearing the tight necklace had eroded the scales, etching a smooth groove. She suspected the scar would be permanent. Even without the necklace, everyone who saw her would recognize her criminal status.

  Chroma met her surprised gaze. “The band would have detonated when your ship breached the atmosphere.” His explanation chilled but did not surprise her. She’d suspected as much.

  He flicked his wrist. “You’re dismissed.”

  She fled. Outside, she massaged her burning nape. I get to live! The mission seemed near-impossible, but she wasn’t going to die today. Or tomorrow. Or next week. She couldn’t count on anything much beyond that, but she’d been granted a reprieve. For the first time in three years, she could go to sleep without fear of imminent execution. She practically floated to the transportation tube that would shoot her to the planet’s surface.

  * * * *

  Along with his fellow council members, Chroma watched the screen as Lala hurried to the trans-tube. Their expressions soured. They’d been shocked—some angered—by the vote results, having assumed the consensus had been to execute. However, it did not serve Chroma’s purpose for Lala to die today.

  Individual votes remained secret. Only the final tally was revealed to the members. One could guess how a colleague had voted from opinions aired, but public position didn’t always coincide with private predilections. To wit: former Councilman Chameleon. He’d hidden his treasonous sympathies well.

  “It is a mistake to let her go!” Xendra said.

  “And what is your plan for bringing the insurrectionists to justice?” Chroma asked.

  She glowered but said nothing.

  “We must give her a chance. She might actually succeed. But that will merely be a bonus if she does. Chameleon is my quarry, and she’s the bait for capturing him. I’m quite certain either he will find her—or she will go in search of him.”

  “We don’t know for sure he’s alive,” Pelouse said. “Isn’t it better to execute the criminal we have than let both escape?”

  “Agreed,” Kamris said. “We are letting the guilty go free.”

  “Temporarily,” Chroma said. “Because it serves our greater purpose.”

  His purpose. Interrogations had convinced him Lala had had no idea what her brother had been doing, and she believed council propaganda that ’Topia had been the aggressor. However, Chroma was less sure of the solidness of her allegiance.