Traitors by Carrie Ulyssiah Holzner
Copyright (c) 2002 by C. Holzner. No part of this story may be copied, reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without the written permission of its author. The author holds all rights.
Comments and constructive criticism about this story are welcome and appreciated, please send them to ulyssiah@care2.com. Please note that this account is intended for comments etc only, and hence more or less a kind of "guestbook" collecting the mails received. (It is maintained by me and all received mails will be printed out and passed on to the author. DNC) Before we go on, the "5 commandments" (LOL) of reading on: 1. The following story contains sexually explicit scenes between males, so now that you are aware of that . 2. Please DO NOT read on in case this kind of material is not legal where you live 3. Please DO NOT read on in case this kind of material is not legal to read for someone of YOUR AGE in your jurisdiction (if you are not sure what is the legal age where you live, then www.ageofconsent.com may help you on) 4. Please DO NOT read on in case this kind of material offends you in any way (though I wonder what you're doing at nifty then .) 5. Please note that this story is FICTION, that means it was invented by the author and any resemblance with any person dead or alive is purely coincidental. PREFACE by the author ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ What you are about to read is Science Fiction and does not necessarily go conform with my own views. Though it plays in times of war and extinction this may NOT be understood as pro war or pro discrimination. It's intended - and I hope I managed to show at least a bit of this intention - to be the opposite ANTI-WAR and ANTI-DISCRIMINATION. The setting and system were only chosen to show what blindness for our surroundings can result in. Also this story does not, as it may be taken by some people, promote anything like sexual unions with other than the human - of our definition - mammal, in fact you will find that the person I'm talking about (read on and find out) is much more of a human being than it seems at first - he's just the result of what happens if science experiments with genes. Then, lastly for now, I have to say that this chapter - or prologue, call it whatever you like - does NOT yet contain sexual actions, but is mainly part of the 'genesis'. Sexual actions WILL take place in the further chapters, but they are not the only plot of this story. Before finally stop rambling and you can hopefully enjoy the story, a quick dedication: This is to all my online friends I had to leave when epilepsy hit home, especially Kenny, Haleth and Clement. Carrie Ulyssiah Traitors Ch. 1/Prologue '''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''' I turned away after only a glance and went back inside. I hated the war, the darn, stupid, useless war! Dying people and collapsing buildings everywhere, destroyed without any right by my kind. A kind so ignorant to think they could revive this planet once its inhabitants were dead, a kind that murdered for nothing but greed and blindness. "Iarlath!" I heard my father's voice. "Yes?" "Will you go up to the chamber and stay with the boy? Your grandmother and I have made to bathe him - gently, he seems seriously hurt -, and now, Myol will be in in some minutes and I think he would like you to assist. Also the boy will most likely prefer a male being with him than a lady. That poor one, he's a good lad." "Do you know anything about his people?" "I'm on my way to check on what he told me. He sounds truthful, but according to him his mother and siblings were killed. I will see about that. Myol will have a look at the gen-ups." Slowly I made my way. The 'Law of Civilisation', which were Laws made about the behaviour of my kind towards the opponent in this was, says I should have well let him die or killed him myself. But I am not like that. I did not even recognise him as Beakanidian at first sight, I only saw that he was hurt, helped him up and took him with me for aid. No matter if Beakanidian or 'human', because to me the Beakanids are human, too. They definitely have a better sense of humanity. My grandmother talked in a low voice when I came in. I couldn't say about what, since it was in a strange language. "Ah, Iarlath," she said when I entered. I sat down next to her in front of the bed they had put him in. I couldn't say whether he was awake or not - because Beakanids aren't able to close their eyes -, but he looked peaceful. Beautiful. "Adorable, eh?" she whispered so low only I could hear. "Our Darnna is one fine lad." At the sound of his name he moved slightly. "Sir," he said absolutely without accent. "I wish to express my gratitude." I shook my head. "Leave that for later. And no 'Sir', please." The 'Law' says that a Beakanid has to address a 'human' of either gender with "Sir" in every sentence. Or rather a word that best translates as "Sir" in the common languages of the former earth. "Are you in pain?" "It's that poison," he said. "But much worse are the memories." I nodded quietly. What could I have said? I knew the Beakanidian people was innocent and that my people were the bad ones, but yet I had only seen one side of the coin. He was brave I thought. He did speak with the strongest voice possible and he had ever since I had found him two or so hours ago. He had even reminded me of my breaking the rules by talking to him at all. But I didn't care. Ever since the war had been started by our side my family had told me how wrong it was, regardless of what the official opinion was. And by myself I knew that we had no right to invade the planet. Mankind had already destroyed the earth with their greed for vengeance and goods in the Nuclear War. Millions and millions died, a few thousands of the 'better' ones escaped on ships into space. After 20 years of cruising aimlessly or effortlessly the word 'Beakanid' was defined for the first time, then as an unknown species of being that was dependant of oxygen. That was when the war actually started, if you see it that way that the remains of mankind longed for a second earth. Soon plans for finding their place and sphere of living and the extinction of that species were made. My parents say they remember that Beakanids were often considered or imagined as some kind of animal then and that some people spoke of keeping a domesticated Beakanid just like they would have kept a dog or cat on earth. However, they were disappointed when - after another 7 years and three dimensions of searching - the Beakanids turned out to be a dissection of mankind. They look the same and have similar ways of living, but they have a different organism and are unable to perform some movements by lack of nerves. They cannot close their eyes or move their toes, while their thumbs are numb. The different human organs, all of them, are substituted by one large one which is constantly in motion. Unlike the clones, created by ourselves, this species was not accepted as equal by the leading humans. I remember the clarification the day the war began "We have been searching for years after our planet was destroyed by forces, THIS is our territory and we will fight for it". The next day my grandfather was arrested for treason, because he went to the Government of the Section and called them fascists (which they are). My grandmother rearranged the covers. "The doctor will be here soon," she murmured. "Why does it have to be Myol?" I asked. "Because Isai doesn't know how to treat Beakanidian organisms. Myol has done that a few times. It's important to get that poison out of him. Look at his eyes, that's not a good colour, Iarlath." The Irises were brown. Usually, as with humans, they are black. "I can't feel my hands," Darnna remarked quietly. I thought I saw a faint smile appear on his lips. "Your name is Iarlath? That was the Patron Saint of Tuam." "Was it?" I had no idea what my name meant or was about, all I knew was that it was of Irish descent, because people have to give their children names referring to their earthly origin and my ancestors were Irish. Probably that explained my redhead. Irishmen were redheaded they say. "The very first of your kind I met was a man called Fiachra, a good- hearted soul he was, which was the name of 8 Irish Saints." "You are a wise boy, Darnna" my grandmother said. Why everyone called him a boy was beyond my knowledge, he was at least my age, after all. He began a recital of some old Irish verse. I didn't understand a word, but I knew it was Irish. "Ah, a Malckq!" someone interrupted us. Myol was standing in the doorframe, his bag with him. "A Malckq?" I asked slightly dumb folded. Myol nodded. "Beakanidian anthropology divides in scientic classes: there are some especially good in science, others in calculation, others in logic, here we seem to have a polyglot." He immediately started to question Darnna in at least 6 different languages. Darnna responded fluently in each of them. "Indeed a Malckq, that's what we're called in your language, all my ancestors have been so." I was quiet while Myol examined him and only did as I was told. The two of them seemed to decide that Polish were their favourite language, since that is what they told me they had finally communicated in. "Look closely how to set this injection, Iarlath," Myol eventually said. "For the next three hours we'll have to repeat them in a 30 minute rhythm. He was lucky, given an hour more in that air and he wouldn't be alive now, but now he'll get through. Will be sick for a couple of days, but then he should be okay." He turned to Darnna. "You're safe here, once you're up and about again you'll stay, hm? You've gotten bad cards till now, but life's not all bad. and we aren't either. Try to sleep for an hour or two, when you had all the injections, you can try a bit of food." Darnna murmured something. Myol helped him to adjust his position and left. "You are generous people, you know that, Iarlath? Everyone's been kind to me." "You've been kind to everyone, too, Darnna." His name was of that own intern language they have on the planet and I was still troubled with the pronunciation since the 'rnn' was somewhat like 'rh' with a very slight 'n' somewhere in between. "Give as you receive." Once again there was this faint smile. "Would you, would you mind if perhaps I would really lie-down for a while, I know that's what I'm already doing, but you know what I mean? It's all been a bit much and I am knackered." "It's okay, you need the rest. Just one thing, is there any way I notice whether you're awake or asleep?" He was puzzled for a moment. Then he got it. "Oh, I don't know, you know, I've never been. perhaps you should just talk to me." "Oh, okay." Somehow his being timid made me nervous. It felt weird, because to my mind, it was me who should be uneasy. Who of us was having a seraph under his guard, after all? That was all he seemed like as he lay there, that was the way I imagined angels. I had never seen them pictured anywhere, since when Mankind was heading for a future of steel and metal nobody took any picture archives with them. But what they told was kept alive to reach even my generation. According to what I had learned angels were winged creatures of divine beauty real only in the imagination. 'Real' these days meant the same as 'existent'. Some political bastard had made to manipulate the language long ago to turn even common words into propaganda. Propaganda said the Beakanids were nonexistent to Mankind. I watched him quietly for some time. The large dark brown eyes were peaceful and their intensity was gentle. His nose was small but even, his skin almost creamy in colour and his mouth rounded the picture. He had soft but strong features and his hair, somewhere between auburn and brown, fell in his face as he lay. Sinead would adore these curls. I could well imagine that we would both be unstoppable from admiring him once he was better. Towards evening, when all the injections were given and Darnna had had a couple of hours of sleep, my grandmother returned. She brought a tray with her, there was a plate and a small bowl. The bowl contained some kind of blancmange. "It's for Darnna," she said after I took the plate, which was obviously mine. "Can you eat with these hands, dear? Or do we need to try feeding you?" He didn't seem to be keen on this thought. "Let me try, the numbness is still there, but I can move and control them, please. What kind of food is this?" The Beakanids are vegetarians living from what grows on their farms. "It's called blancmange, dear. Chocolate flavour." The moment he heard 'chocolate' something happened to his eyes. It was as if they would brighten without brightening. We took that as a good sign. He managed eating by himself quite fine. You could see it caused him problems and that he was still in pain, but he ate neatly and in small portions, never filling the spoon completely. While he ate my grandmother told me that the info he'd given us matched with the gen-ups. That meant he was really who he said he was. Unfortunately, he had been also right about his family. My father had learned that his father had died long ago from 'human' hands and that the rest of his family had died in the house set on fire by soldiers. Darnna had been lucky being not there. We also learnt that he came from a long line of Malckqs, a kind known to be caring and intelligent. They said they were the most peaceful of all Beakanidian kinds and had a natural detest for violence of any kind. I smiled at that thought. My angel was a faithful believer in peace. But while I thought the MY I kind of recoiled from myself, how could I say he was 'mine'? Could I have fallen within just a few hours into someone I hardly knew? Actually it wouldn't be that bad, in the circles we moved my sexuality was accepted just as much as anyone elses, but what about Darnna? I didn't know anything about Beakanidian ways and uses concerning coupling and love. And I didn't know a thing about his personal preference. Poor baby that he was he had probably much more important and significant things on his mind. Later that evening - he had asked me to go on with my usual business for a while, because he needed to think - I found him crying. It was a heart wrenching scene to see him, his beautiful face tear strained, wiping the wetness away with the sleeve of his arm and his eyes reflecting such misery. This lad had seen the horrible side of war, he had experienced everything I had only heard about. "Is there anything I can do?" I asked softly. If it had been me I had scooped him up in my arms and rocked him like a newborn. He shook his head. "If I can, just let me know, okay?" He nodded slightly. Instinctively I brushed my hand over his cheek and wiped a few tears away with my thumb. ~~~~~~~~~~ The abruptness with that he addressed me kind of surprised me. Though I had remained awake with the severe intention to be there at his very word I was positively shocked to hear his voice. "Yes?" I answered. "Can I ask you something? I mean a meaningful thing, it would mean a lot to me, please." I got up and sat down at the edge of his bed, taking one of his hands in mine. "Anything," I said. Even if I didn't mean it, judging from the way he'd asked permission I expected him to ask something I couldn't answer for a lack of knowledge. His eyes pierced me. The gentleness in them was contagious, I'd probably run around gazing at people in exactly that way for the next couple of days. "Why did you save my life? You know it is a crime and you can be punished for that." "I did it for the part that is truly human in me. The laws and the war, the genocide are NOT human. There is no humanity, right or goodwill in what people do. The justification of being unwelcome by your populace is a lie, everybody knows we were welcome as much as everybody knows we had no right to intrude and lastly invade. We have no right to say because the earth was destroyed it is our duty to cause the extinction of anyone who lives under similar conditions to the earthly ones. My grandfather was arrested and later killed for standing up against the war, WE, my family, are actually defectors without defection, in a way. To me it is a natural thing that I have to save a life if I can." "This doctor - what's his name?-, mentioned your dogma. Does it-" I shook my head. "Taking you with me has to do with my very own conviction and my very own opinion of good and bad. This 'dogma' as you called it, would you be surprised if I told you I don't believe a word of it?" In this kind of society everybody has a part assigned to them, or rather, every family has. My family is in quite a high position of responsibility for the spiritual upbringing of people. Nobody is urged to believe something here and if they decide to do they are free to choose a religion, whatever they understand under the word, now if any of these people have the need for care or confession it is my duty to listen to them. That is what I was trained for for the past ten years. Despite all the knowledge I had about both, former earthly and recently invented, religions I wasn't a believer. I didn't have credos or views like that. "No? You know, we were always told that your people would operate only dogmatically, that it all depended, everything you did, on religion." I tried to give him a smile. "The religion they mean is blindness, emotionally, you see. The God they speak of is greed." "You're wise, Iarlath. Among us there never was religion, they said we weren't in need of it because we were peaceful people." "Peaceful people don't need to invent an almighty God to take the responsibility for their cruelty. Why we are supposed to be dogmatic is because this is the picture the Government draws to excuse our behaviour. But we have no right, absolutely none." He smiled weakly. "Stop underlining that, PLEASE. I know very well that your people are not better than us. In no way, because it was THEM who invented the creator that always turns away from what he has begun." I didn't see the meaning then. "You're not pondering my words, Iarlath?" "No." "What are you considering then, you seem so thought-lost?" 'Thought- lost', as I should learn later, was a rough translation of a Beakanidian word describing deep contemplation. "You're attentive, Darnna." Those beautiful dark brown eyes glanced at me expectantly. I began to rub his hand with my thumb. "You know, I'm wondering about your future. You are safe here and everyone in my family will defend that safety. Nothing's going to harm you, but I worry about you fitting in." "True," he said. "Your Government describes us like savages, but we are not eating on the floor, we do sleep at night and we spend our lives learning, Iarlath, you know it's not like that." "I didn't mean it that way." "No?" "What I meant is, that over time you'll feel lonely, singled out, or something, and I am wondering what we can do then. You know, we want you to feel among friends here." "You have no clue," he whispered and I could see that he was close to crying again. "You don't know what it's like to KNOW that you can never go home, that you can never again go back to your roots, not only your family. My friends, they died away slowly over the years, my dear, beloved father was killed by a shot, and now. I'm grateful to be here, but you have no clue." I so much wanted to take him in my arms and never let go again to keep him safe. But I did not, I just kept holding his hand while he cried once more. ~~~~~~~~~~ When Myol checked his state in the morning the detoxication had been almost successful. Yet, aside from that, he seemed worried, for Darnna had a slight fever, which for the Beakanidian organism is worse than for the human one. But Darnna was brave, he even seemed amused when my mother and grandmother began to try getting the temperature down with old 'earthly methods'. Though I must admit, I didn't see the use of wet towels around the calves either. "You've such a good family," Darnna said after both of them had left us to ourselves again. Since this chamber belonged to my rooms it belonged to my responsibilities to stay with him (not that I did mind). I smiled. "You should stop praising them. Wait till you're up and about again and you'll see how GOOD" I stretched that word "they really are." I had a wonderful family, if I say so myself. "Perhaps," he sighed. "You know while you slept I was contemplating something: you said you worried about my future here. I do too, I fear I am not of much use to you alive. I mean, what can I do to serve this nation? I know like 48 different languages, but that's about it." "48?" He nodded. Absolutely without the proud I thought someone of that genius should have. "Very few, for a Malckq. I know someone, pardon I knew someone, who was fluent in 507. My father spoke 128." My eyes widened. "WOW!" "Maybe, but what use does it have at a place with one universal one, and it's not even Esperanto. You know at home people. only used one language, too, yes, but we were cultural people, very studied in the culture of the earth." "Why exactly the earth?" I didn't know they had anything to do with us before the war. He looked at me for a long time without saying a word. So I guess he assumed I knew. We were mute for a while. "What's that sound?" he asked. "You make sounds even though you're silent." "Do I?" The only thing I heard was my breathing. Then it got to me. "Oh, um, that's.here." I held my wrist up to his ear, so he could hear my pulse. "That's loud!" He recoiled. From experience sleeping with my head on my arm I knew he was right, especially for someone who had never heard it before. His organism just moved and perhaps grumbled (this only when he was sick). "And it doesn't come from your arm," he said. "No, but it's about the same thing, what your heard was my breath and as long as there is heartbeat there is pulse." He looked at me quizzically. "Can I hear that other thing? Please!" ~~~~~~~~ To be continued. Race to Save the Primates - every click provides food! http://www.care2.com/go/z/primates