“Computer,” Ken said. “Lights.” The darkened condo was illuminated with lights in the hallway, kitchen, and living room.
“I hope your journey was a pleasant one, sir,” said the computer. It had an Australian accent much like Ken’s—a little taste of home while he was away.
“Too short, but enjoyable,” he said as he walked toward the kitchen. His hand interacted with a holographic window in front of the refrigerator to display the contents of the fridge. “Computer, are there any new messages for me?” he asked.
“Please stand by,” it replied. “You have no new messages at this time, sir.”
“Thank you,” he said, stepping into the living room to sit down with a holo pad in hand.
“Shall I contact ‘overlord’ and inform them you have arrived?” the computer asked.
“Negative,” he said. “Do it…tomorrow morning. I need to rest.”
And by “rest,” Ken meant shagging two smoking-hot escorts for the night.
His holo pad loaded a directory of all the local and expensive girls in the area. They were expensive for a good reason. Radiance frowned upon the idea of sex work and had been pulling strings within the UNE to deal with it. Ken found this amusing, as brothels existed within the Radiance Union, highly illegal and rare, but they existed. If he didn’t know any better, it was almost as if Radiance were trying to mold the human race into the sixth member of the Radiance Union.
Holographic pictures of half-naked women appeared before him while he swiped his hands from right to left, causing the projection to scroll and load additional ladies. The hardest part of dealing with these lovely ladies was ensuring that the ones you wanted were available.
He felt fabulous about doing this with next to no guilt in his chest. He knew damn well Yvonne would be sleeping with the grounds keeper of their home the moment she got the chance. One of the perks of being in the EISS was that it was easy to spy on your wife when you were out of town. The moment she stopped sucking his cock, was the moment he’d stop dealing with these ladies; fair is fair.
SURREY, EARTH, SOL SYSTEM
I’m never going to get this, Lyir thought as he sat on his bed, holo pad in hand with his homework from school displayed. Being a Hashmedai boy going to school in a human world put him at a disadvantage, especially when your English literature teacher lost his family during the invasion. Lyir had pale, cream-colored skin and light-blue hair, much like his mother Pernoy, whom he lived with in this Surrey community. His mother and father had helped rebuild the community, yet here he was, on the verge of failing, quite possibly because he wasn’t born a human, or so his friends claimed.
“Lyir,” his mother called out to him in the Hashmedai language. “Come down for dinner.”
“I’ve still got to finish my homework.”
“You won’t finish it correctly on an empty belly,” she retorted. “Come down and eat your damn food.”
His teenage body took a seat at the dinner table with his mother, Pernoy. Rare steak was the meal for the night. Pernoy had extremely long blue hair with traces of white in it. Her eyes were orange, while Lyir’s eyes were a deep red. Off in the distance, an old-world TV was on, broadcasting the evening news. As the two ate, Lyir gazed at the damaged TV screen; the headline caught his attention: “Heroes of Earth Returned At Last.”
His half-sister, Eupiar, sat on the couch next to the TV. The contents didn’t seem to interest her, just the holographic display screen of her laptop. Unlike Lyir, Eupiar was half-human; their mother, Pernoy, was a noncombatant severing aboard a Hashmedai ship during the invasion only to crash-land. The US Marine aggressors held her and the surviving crew captive.
One of the soldiers started to develop a certain affection for her and remorse; after all, Pernoy was here because she was ordered to come. Night after night of secret playtime during their “interrogation secessions” resulted in Eupiar’s existence. Sadly, her father never got the chance to see her grow up; he was killed trying to help Pernoy and Eupiar escape to into Canada.
“Hmm, they’re back,” said Lyir, turning away from the news headline. “What do you think, Mother?”
“Not much—they were bound to return to Earth sooner or later,” she said before taking another bite of her juicy meal.
“But those are the people who blew up the command ship, causing you and all the other Hashmedai to be stranded here.” Lyir returned to his meal, while he curiously awaited his mother’s reply.
“I don’t hate them, if that’s what you’re trying to get at,” she said. “They did what they had to do. It was war, and we were destroying their world.”
“But don’t you want to be off this world? Isn’t that the reason you never cut your hair? Because then ends of it existed back when you were still in the empire?” A loaded question, but his young inquiring mind was hungry for knowledge that didn’t have to do with schoolwork.
“If those folks never destroyed the command ship, or if there had been a way for me to get home, I would have never met your father, or Eupiar’s.”
“There must have been a way for you two to meet had things been different; you were both in the military, after all.” Lyir often fantasized about the idea of parallel universes where things were different. The thought of him never having to experience the depressing life he was living thus far always tantalized his mind.
“Not really,” his mother said. “I’m from the deep space colonies. The frigate I served on joined up with the fleet because they were short one.”
He thought for a moment, slowly putting the facts together. “And Father was from Paryo.”
“Exactly, we would have never crossed paths regardless. And don’t forget about your sister. Neither I nor her father would have met.” Conclusion: in order for him, them, to exist, the last twenty-two years had to have played out the way they did. Life is not fair at all.
There was semisilence once again at the dinner table as the two ate, while the TV continued to play the news. Eupiar tied her half-human hair into a ponytail, it was dyed in a mixture of colors, a galaxy style, they called it. An ombré of colors, it started from silver at the top of her head, transitioned to light blue and dark blue, and ended with black at the tips. Her heavily tattooed arms stretched forward, and she resumed whatever the hell had her so fascinated with her laptop. A headline on the TV stated, “Four Men Found Dead at East Hastings Early This Afternoon.” The doorbell rang and ripped Lyir’s attention away from the TV and his sister. Took him long enough, he thought as he looked at the third dinner plate on the table, untouched and getting cold.
“I’ll get it,” Lyir offered, and then he shut his eyes to focus. The door unlocked and swung open…with the aid of telekinesis from Lyir’s psionic mind.
His uncle Dollon stood behind the door. Rainwater dripped off him as if he showered with his clothes on. Dollon’s hair was much like Lyir’s father’s, cut short and white. His skin was a darker-cream color, and he wore a black suit and pants that covered his psionic cybernetics, which would probably explain why he didn’t just teleport in as usual.
He stepped inside as Lyir’s mind shut and locked the door behind Dollon. Then he walked toward the fridge, rather than the dinner that Lyir was expecting. “Sorry I’m late,” Dollon said, removing a bottle of vodka from the fridge. “Had some things to take care of.”