My name is Eden, and I’m genetically engineered to survive. But I swear I'm not a monster, despite what the pure-bloods may say. I didn't choose this anymore than I chose to have my mother abandon me when I was just a baby.

I only have one picture of my mom. I keep it around so I know who to punch if we ever accidentally meet. Not that I hold a grudge. She only left a newborn human to be raised by a couple of elderly hunds in the middle of nowhere. No big deal.

I'm twenty years old, and taller than average at 180 centimeters, with a wiry quality to my muscles I'm not quite sure I like. I wish I was softer with a bit more up top. But due to my mother's genetics, I'm nearly as flat chested as a katzen. Just one more thing for me to thank her for.

If this was Earth, and it was a different time, they would call me ethnically ambiguous because of my olive tone skin and slightly almond shaped hazel eyes. But there aren't many humans on Homeworld, so I'm practically unique.

When I was very young, I went south to live with my aunt Nemeria and her friends. Nemeria is my mother's sister, or so everyone says. Apparently they lost contact decades ago.

Grandfather Braverhund, the hund who first took me in, used his old police contacts to track Nemeria down before he died. Unfortunately, Nemeria wasn't the maternal type and dumped me on her friend Simon.

Simon looks a lot like Grandfather, which makes sense because they're both originally from Döbi. His fur is short and black with tan patches on his arms and legs in the typical Döbian pattern.

He doesn't talk about his past much. I know he's enhanced so I think he used to be a soldier. That would certainly explain the cropped ears.

After Nemeria left, I started calling him dad, the same way I call the elderly hunds who took me in grandmother and grandfather.

He knows what I am. In fact, he is the one who explained it all to me. He's augmented too, so he doesn't care if I'm not a pure-blood human. He thinks the whole human versus demi-human debate is bullshit anyway.

Thanks to his augmentations, Simon still looks to be a young hund in his prime, even though he's old enough to remember the last continental war.

Aunt Genevieve doesn't seem to age either. She's a hairless katzen with yellow eyes and a pattern of dark spots on her skin like falling leaves. Nemeria said once that Genevieve Geneva, or GG as most people call her, had strong wine aunt energy.

I was too young to understand at the time but as an adult I get it. GG is a free spirit with very bright flowing colorful clothes and an even louder personality. She comes and goes as she pleases, never settling down. GG's clothing store in Coven is world famous and may be designated as a site of cultural significance soon.

Simon laughed when he heard that but got strangely quiet afterward. I could tell from how he was looking off into the distance with his jaw firmly set that he was thinking about his past and it wasn't a happy memory. "It's amazing how far the world has come since I was young." He finally said. "We truly are living in a golden age."

GG explained it to me later over tea in the garden. The house Simon built for us had a few acres of garden with high walls for privacy.

"Simon is bitter because in Döbi it used to be illegal to be gay. They rounded them up and put them in the camps with the other undesirables like me.” She paused and looked at me as if she was trying to reach a decision.

“Tell me my dear, have you ever seen a survivor's tattoos?" She asked, her voice going soft and quiet.

When I shook my head no she took a moist towelette from inside her purse and wiped away her makeup revealing faded grayish blue tattoos on the skin underneath her eyes. "I used to wear them openly to show what I had been through, to show I wasn't afraid or ashamed. To remind people that it happened and there were still living witnesses. But now it would just show my age and we can't have that, now can we?"

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At school they had taught us about the genocide of the katzen in Döbi. Millions of the felines were murdered in the space of just a few years. Everyone the Döbians didn't like had been rounded up and worked to death in concentration camps. Or worse yet, taken by that monster Gershwin for his experiments.

The thought of what he had done to those poor prisoners made my skin crawl. It was a good thing they had hanged the bastard after the war. They said he had gone to the noose with a smile on his face.

I had always been fascinated and disgusted by Gershwin. After all, he shared a surname with my grandfather. They were both Braverhunds. Both Döbian. They might have even been distant relatives.

"You're chasing clouds again." GG said as she noticed me staring off into the distance.

"I was thinking about Gershwin." I replied, realizing that we had never spoken about the katzen genocide. "My grandfather was named Kerner Braverhund. I was wondering if he was related to Gershwin."

"Braverhund is a very common last name." GG reassured me. "Don't worry, that was a long time ago and things are much better now. Do you know they say we're living in a new golden age?"

People kept saying that. The phrase seemed to have entered the public consciousness about a year ago and everyone was repeating it. The idea that this was a new era of peace and prosperity apparently appealed to people's sense of vanity.

They liked thinking that they were enlightened creatures, more evolved than the previous generation. But I had read my history and knew what usually came after the golden age lost its shine.

GG took my hand and squeezed it. "Have you considered coming to work for me or maybe joining Simon's company? We would both be incredibly lucky to have you. Human clothing is the next big thing in fashion and aerospace is literally taking off. You could make an incredible amount of money."

"I don't want money." I replied. "I want to help people."

The hairless katzen snorted. "You don't care about money because you've always had it."

No. That wasn't it at all. I didn't care about money because it wasn't important. It was just an electronic number in an account, a way to keep score. It was meaningless.

I knew that Simon's company had pretty much cornered early space exploration when Haven fell. I also understood that being related to a titan of industry had afforded me a certain level of comfort and protection not enjoyed by other humans. But that was the whole point.

"You know I can't read your mind." GG snapped her fingers to call me back to reality. "You have to talk to me if you want to have a conversation."

"I report for duty tomorrow. What's done is done. I'll start out as a basic patrol officer here in Porto City PD and work my way up from there like Sacher did."

"Old Iron Hand?" GG shook her head. "You want to put my mind at ease about you joining the police force and you bring up Wolfgang Sacher?"

I frowned, not understanding why GG had suddenly gotten so irritated. Wolfgang Sacher was one of the most famous human police officers of all time. "Why wouldn't I want to be like him?"

"Let's just say that he wasn't the kind man you think he is. You aren't the only one with a good memory and mine goes back considerably further than yours." GG finished her tea and set the cup down. "Will they at least be providing you with a firearm?"

"No. Most cops don't carry guns these days. It's just a vest, cuffs, stunner and a baton. That should be more than enough. It's not like I'm on the hostage rescue team."

"And yet it makes me feel even less happy about you joining. I'll have Simon ask the lawyers to get you a weapon's permit so you can at least have something at home." GG pulled out her phone and made a show of texting my dad.

Like everything else she owned it was ostentatiously over the top. The five centimeter by ten centimeter phone was designed to look like a piece of gold bullion and had her company logo stamped on the back. The stylized letters RKC gleamed in the light. In a world of wetware to wetware direct messaging GG still preferred to use the phone for some unknown reason.

"He just texted back saying that he has time now if you want to join him at the company shooting range." She grabbed her purse. "Come on, I'll have my driver take us."

I was about to tell her that I didn't think Simon even knew how to shoot. Then I remembered his cropped ears. "Why does King Aerospace have a shooting range?" I asked as I slung my bag over my shoulder.

"Because, golden age or not, there are still bad people out there in the world." GG replied cryptically as she opened the gate that led from the garden to the front courtyard. Her "driver" was waiting in a sleek black helicopter.