Seiniku

Genji wakes up to find himself alone in a smaller transport cube, one of a few dozen stacked in a gigantic room filled with various alien science equipment. Panicked, he looks over to the cell on his right to see Ren Dintahi, a gray-haired Japanese male meditating in the adjacent cube. To his left, Sofi Ryu, a short-haired Korean female sleeping in the middle of her cube.

“Hey,” Genji screams while banging on the transparent wall between himself and Ren.

“Seh-nee-koo! Seh-nee-koo! Seh-nee-koo!” the other prisoners chant, including his neighbors.

Ignoring Genji, Ren continues meditating.

“Make your peace, comrade,” an amplified female voice replies with a heavy Russian accent.

Genji turns left, looking outside his cell, then up to an elevated platform a few yards away. A bald, middle-aged, pregnant Russian woman without her limbs levitates inside a force field tube. Genji looks down to see a strange electronic device covered in blood, bone fragments, blue hairs, and some sort of gooey substance resting on another platform. He closes his eyes and cries.

Ren opens his eyes and looks over at Genji.

“Sorry for your loss,” Ren says.

Ignoring Ren, Genji continues to sob.

The pregnant Russian looks down at Genji’s top-center cube among the nine stacked in three rows of three across from her. The stacked cubes fit on a two-legged platform a few stories above the ground. However, two glowing, yellow dots draw her attention. They’re the eyes of a large, hairy, blue rat staring up at her. Its ears track the screams from the cubes above it. Sniffing the air, it tries to climb one of the platform legs to get to her. It methodically works its way closer to the pregnant Russian.

“Come and get it,” she calls to it.

More than halfway to her, a vigilant maintenance drone fires a taser at the alien rodent, which shrieks before falls, hitting a lower platform before crashing to the ground.

Genji watches the maintenance drone fatally stabs the rodent, collects the carcass, and hauls it off. He looks up at the pregnant Russian.

“How are you…” he asks.

“Still alive?” she replies. “Perhaps we’ll never know.”

“How long have you been here?”

The pregnant Russian glances down at her swollen belly.

“From the looks of things, maybe a year, give or take. What’s your name, newbie?”

“Genji.”

“Please give Genji a warm and final welcome!” she announces.

“Gen-jee! Gen-jee! Gen-jee!” the caged prisoners chant.

“I’m Tatiana,” the pregnant Russian says. “What’s left of me, anyway.”

“Don’t suppose you’ve figured a way out of here,” Genji says.

The pregnant Russian chuckles.

“Lifetime membership, I’m afraid,” she replies.

The pregnant Russian winces as whatever’s inside her pushes outward against her belly.

“You fucked up,” Ren says.

Genji turns to see Ren doing pushups.

“Excuse me?” Genji asks.

“Yumi? Jino?” Ren answers. “I assume they came with you.”

“You make it sound like we had a choice.”

“You did. You just didn’t have the balls to put them out of their misery.”

“Easy for you to say,” Genji responds.

Ren looks up at the pregnant Russian.

“Hey Tat,” he yells. “I think our friend needs a second opinion.”

“Sounds like he’s too late,” the pregnant Russian replies.

Ren turns to Genji and says, “Sorry, Genji, no lifelines here.”

“And you are?”

“Ren. So, where’d they get you?”

“Matsumoto.”

“The curtain lowers.”

“You?”

“Yamanashi,” Ren replies. “So, what’d you do before shit went south?”

“Computer engineering. And yourself?”

“Let’s just say it’s not the first time I’ve been in this type of situation.”

“Well, this sucks,” Sofi says.

Genji and Ren turn to see a groggy Sofi looking around.

“Could be worse!” the pregnant Russian screams.

Looking up to see fluid leaking from the pregnant Russian in labor, Sofi replies, “Ho-lee-”

“That’s not good,” Genji interjects.

“You think?” Ren and Sofi simultaneously ask.

A large display lights up behind the pregnant Russian as her womb vibrates. Sweating profusely, she takes quick, short breaths. She chants Russian profanities as the prisoners watch.

Straight out of a sci-fi movie, the alien fetus eats its way out of the pregnant Russian’s womb, poking its tiny head through her flesh. Some prisoners look away. Others stare. A few, including Genji, vomit.

An alarm chimes and the room lights brighten. The large room door opens. Deep growls rumble through the prisoners bowels as Nooz passes the stacked cubes. The giant Lorian shoves aside large machinery on its way to the display console. He reads the symbols on the display while the fetus feasts on its maternal meal.

The prisoners stare up at Nooz’s backside when the alien turns to them. The Lorian’s floating drone lowers and faces the prisoners. It lights up and then fires an electrical current through the transparent cells, knocking everyone out.

Registration

“Rise and live, Kanzu,” Tino says.

Kanzu wakes to see the catamaran docking at a bustling port.

“Freeland?” Kanzu asks.

“Freeland,” Tino responds.

Tino leads Kanzu to the dock, where uniformed hominoids happily greet them and the other disembarking refugees. Kanzu looks around at all of the laser fortifications along the coast. Patrol boats manned by hominoids sweep the bay. A number of Terrans working as administrative liaisons assist refugees as they file into a large building a few yards inland. Kanzu looks over at the opposite end of the dock to see another group of hominoids boarding another catamaran. However, strange sapiens among the refugees and personnel grabs her attention.

“What clan are they?” Kanzu asks.

“Hybreeds,” Tino answers. “The byproduct of our kind mating an archaic.”

“How could this happen?”

“Were you not taught procreation?” a smiling Tino asks.

“We were taught not to trust archaics,” she replies.

To Kanzu, the hominoid and Terran workers appear to take pride in preserving the surrounding building facades, maintaining their pre-invasion condition. She and Tino continue toward a tall building. Kanzu looks up at the giant letters sitting on a hillside:

K E E L U N G

Kanzu spots a ten-lane ticketing stand filled with hominoids planning to board various departing vessels. She continues walking until Tino stops a few feet from the tall building’s entrance, where two armed Freeland guards stand post. Tino extends his hand.

“Good luck, Kanzu.”

“You’re not coming?”

“Others need my assistance.”

Kanzu shakes Tino’s hand. His eyes widen.

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“Strong, yeah?” Kanzu asks.

Tino pats her shoulder.

“Agreed. But, you’ll need more than strength to find your brother.”

He points to her head and smiles.

“How long do I have to stay?”

“That depends on you, Kanzu. You’re free now.”

A teary Kanzu nods. Tino wipes away her tears and nudges her toward the building. He then turns and heads back to the dock. Kanzu enters the building.

Inside, Kanzu waits in line behind Brazin, an adolescent male hominoid with yellow dots on purplish skin. Brazin sniffs into the air and turns around.

“Sorry,” he says. “Your scent…”

“You have an issue with my scent?” Kanzu replies with crossed arms.

“No, no disrespect. I’ve spent some time in your colony a few revs past.”

Kanzu grabs Brazin as their line advances a step forward.

“What do they call you?”

“Brazin.”

“Have you come across a similar scent recently?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

Brazin winces and replies, “I’m sure your grip is strong.”

Kanzu releases him.

“Apologies,” she says. “They call me Kanzu.”

“Kaan-Zoo,” Brazin repeats with a smile.

“My brother and I were separated. I must find him.”

They move closer to the front.

“Most unfortunate. What happened?"

“We were thrown from our masters’ ship.”

“You’re not alone.”

“Next!” the hominoid clerk barks.

Brazin turns and walks up to the counter, where a pink female hominoid clerk awaits. A display screen embedded in the counter shows Brazin’s reflection, thanks to the tiny camera above the display.

“Name?” the hominoid clerk asks.

“Brazin-”

Kanzu slips in front of him

“And Kanzu,” she interjects. “His…mate.”

The hominoid clerk turns to a blushing Brazin and takes a few sniffs in their direction.

“Congratulations, we rarely register couples. One usually expires before getting here.”

“We are most fortunate,” Kanzu says as she turns to Brazin.

“Agreed,” Brazin says. “It has been a tiring and emotional journey.”

Brazin smiles at Kanzu, who smiles back.

“Apologies, but you’ll be assigned different rooms,” the hominoid clerk says.

“We cannot share?” Brazin responds.

“Most unfortunate,” Kanzu mocks.

“Due to limited space, genders are separated into wings until the registration process is complete.”

“Most unfortunate indeed,” Brazin says while looking down.

“I can, however, assign mates to the same floor.”

“Grats,” Kanzu responds. “We shall respect the process.”

The hominoid clerk types into her tablet; an outline of two hands appears on the display.

“Brazin, hands, then eyes.”

Brazin presses both hands against the display until it turns green. An outline of a face and eyes appears on the display. Brazin positions his face to fit within the outline and stares into the display until it lights up green. He then takes side profiles of his face for the display to capture. The scanner also gleans info from the implant in Brazin’s neck. When finished, he steps aside as the hominoid clerk types into the tablet again.

“Now you,” she says to Kanzu.

Kanzu proceeds to have her hands, face, implant, and eyes scanned into the system. The hominoid clerk types into the table once more, then turns to Kanzu.

“Follow the prompts to Room 1324. Welcome to Freeland,” the hominoid clerk barks. “Next!”

Kanzu and Brazin exit the room and weave their way through the crowded halls. They follow the digital signs to Room 1324 and enter to find it filled with seated hominoid refugees chatting amongst each other.

A tall female hominoid with yellow skin and green, zebra-like stripes stands at the front of the room. Beside the female instructor stands a forty-something Pakistani male assistant. Kanzu and Brazin take two of the last empty seats in back. The hominoid instructor taps the front wall screen, and a digital map of what was once known as Southeast Asia appears. The Pakistani assistant shuts the room door. The lights flicker, the room turns silent, and the refugees look straight at the hominoid instructor.

“Attention! They call me Mopey. My Terran assistant here is Pahj. You are in this room because someone believes you possess a value we can exploit for the greater good. Most of you do not recall or understand how you got here. However, you have all defied incredible odds to be sitting in this very room. A vast majority of your discarded brethren are not as fortunate.”

The Pakistani assistant picks up a portable scanner. He and the instructor pace the room.

“Once upon a time,” the Pakistani assistant begins while scanning each refugee he passes. “This place was once known as Tie-waan. It was invaded and occupied by its larger rival to the west known as Chi-nah. However, China’s victory was short-lived, as an even larger invader from the stars conquered the entire planet. You called these invaders ‘Master’. But today, they are your master no more!”

The refugees cheer. The hominoid instructor uses the distraction to glance at her smiling assistant’s ass as he continues scanning refugees. She motions the refugees to silence.

“Most of you were discarded like trash,” she says. “A few of you escaped, searching for a higher purpose. But to the archaics, you’re known as what, Pahj?”

“Strays,” the Pakistani assistant answers. “Vermin. Scavengers.”

“If you accept and follow our laws, you will have a home. And more importantly, a clan.”

The Pakistani assistant completes his scans and transmits the data to the instructor’s wristlet display.

“The sooner you accept your new reality, the more content and productive you shall become,” the Pakistani assistant adds. “At Freeland, you will be free.”

Three-quarters of the refugees, including Brazin, applaud. Kanzu gently claps when either the hominoid instructor or Pakistani assistant looks in her direction.

“And based on our assessments, you will be pleased to know that those in this room qualify for a more favorable registration process.”

More applause. Kanzu prepares to raise her hand.

“Name?” the hominoid instructor asks.

Every head turns to Raym, a thick female hominoid with her hands in the air. Her bronze skin includes a faint shine to it.

“Raym,” she answers.

“What is your question, Raym?”

“If we are truly free, are we free to leave now?”

“Excellent question, Raym.”

Smiling, the hominoid instructor turns to her Pakistani assistant, who remotely transforms the two-dimensional map of Southeast Asia into a three-dimensional rendering that floats above the front of the room. The virtual map zooms in on the former island nation of Taiwan, now known as Freeland. The map visually expresses everything the instructor and assistant explain to the refugees.

“You all will have an opportunity to leave,” the Pakistani assistant says. “However, freedom is not free. The cost for our services and education essential to surviving this new world is one revolution to complete registration, and two revolutions of service in the Freeland Corps.”

“Three revolutions?” Raym asks.

“A small price to pay for extending your lives,” the hominoid instructor answers. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Kanzu turns to Brazin and whispers, “Three revolutions?”

“However, should you not complete the registration process, or fail your citizenship exam, you will be granted lower-tier visa status,” the Pakistani assistant adds.

“Please take a wristlet as you exit. They will provide instructions throughout registration and help you acclimate,” the instructor says. “One revolution from today, you will return here for your final exam and assessment. Good luck.”

The room door slides open. The refugees stand and line up in a single file.

“I suggest you relieve yourselves before boarding the autotram,” the assistant implores.

As they exit the room, the instructor slyly sniffs each refugee as they take a wristlet from a box held by the Pakistani assistant standing near the door. Every sniff causes the instructor to notate in her wrist display an interesting trait of the respective refugee.

Last in line, Kanzu and Brazin approach the Pakistani assistant, when the instructor catches their scents.

“Good luck,” the instructor says.

Kanzu and Brazin smile, nod, take their wrist bands, and exit. Their wristlets direct them to a luxurious, autonomous train called an autotram. They join the line of waiting refugees, board the autotram, and sit beside each other in the last two seats on the right side. The automated train shuts its door and propels forward.

All of the windows and small display screens behind each seat transform from Freeland commercials and propaganda ads to the same animated face of a male hominoid guide.

“Welcome to Freeland. They call me Trayne,” the autotram guide commences. “For the next few minutes, I’ll introduce you to your new home we call Freeland.”

Four three-dimensional, holographic clones of the hominoid guide appear in equidistant spots along the aisle like synchronized flight attendants. Facing the autotram’s rear, the holograms simultaneously point to their left toward the mountains; the passengers look out the left windows. The window displays deactivate, allowing everyone to see outside as Terrans enter and exit guard-gated tunnels leading inside the mountains.

“For most of you, this will be your first encounter with an archaic. However, you shall refer to them as Terrans. Like all citizens, they serve willingly in exchange for shelter and protection. All Freeland Terrans receive implants so we can monitor and communicate.”

Brazin turns to Kanzu and whispers, “Have you ever met a Terran?”

“No,” Kanzu whispers back while her eyes remain on the closest hologram. “But my procreators journeyed to this planet with one.”

“What are they like?” Brazin asks.

“Angry. Disrespectful. Deceitful. And their words have many meanings.”

“If he journeyed here, then how is he a Terran?” Brazin asks.

“O’Brien’s master was an advance scout many revolutions before the Resettlements. He claimed a young O’Brien and took him to the stars,” Kanzu answers. “O’Brien returned an old man to a home he no longer recognized.”

“Do my words bore you?” the autotram guide closest to them condescendingly asks.

“Apologies, Trayne,” Kanzu sheepishly answers.

“Gratitudes,” the autotram guide says with a smile. “Now, where were we?”

Kanzu glances over at Brazin, who eagerly turns his attention to the hologram.

The Not-So-Great Escape: Part 1

Shivering, Genji wakes up from yet another involuntary slumber. Only this time, he finds himself in the middle of a wooded area. Genji looks down to see a small canteen and metal box beside him. He picks up the metal box and opens it to find five small, dried insect bars and two pieces of blue rat jerky. He takes a bite from a rat jerky and washes it down with a sip of water from the canteen. Genji stands and spots three of his fellow prisoners, including Sofi, yards apart from each other, waking up. Keeping his arms extended to avoid bumping into an invisible wall, he cautiously walks toward Sofi when he hears someone behind him. Genji turns to see Ren chewing while holding a canteen and metal box.

“Perhaps I was wrong about that lifeline,” Ren says.

“Or perhaps we’re in a bigger cage,” Genji responds.

“Damnit,” Ren says. “Didn’t think of that.”

They look around.

“Any idea where we are?” Genji asks.

“Smells like freedom to me,” Sofi says.

They both turn to see Sofi enjoying her dried insect bar and a sip of water. The two men run over to her.

“Genji, meet Sofi.”

“Nice to meet you, Sofi.”

“Don’t be so sure, Mr. Computer Engineer,” Sofi says.

“Maybe we should stick together,” Genji says.

“Nine heads better than one,” Sofi replies. “That it?”

“I just like the odds.”

“So, you are dear leader now?” she asks.

“I just want to find my family.”

“Good luck with that,” Sofi responds.

“He’s got a point, Soaf,” Sofi says.

“Sofi.”

“We could really use your help,” Genji pleads.

“We?” Ren responds.

“You’re more than welcome to go back there,” Sofi says. “But I’m getting outta here before the Hunger Games begin.”

Sofi grabs her items and walks off. Genji looks around to see the other prisoners conversing in small groups. Ren places a hand in Genji’s shoulder.

“She’s got a point,” Ren says.

“Ren?” another male voice interjects.

Genji and Ren turn to see a young Israeli male.

“Jakob?” Ren answers.

“In the flesh.”

Ren and the Israeli embrace.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” Ren jokes.

Genji looks around to see the others grabbing their items and gathering around Sofi.

“Yes, nice to finally put a voice to a face,” the Israeli says before turning to Genji. “Jakob.”

“Genji.”

“The new guy,” the Israeli says. “Lucky us, huh?”

“Hate to interrupt this bromance, but maybe we should formulate a plan?” Ren asks.

Genji spots Sofi and the others preparing to leave.

“We should start moving,” Genji says.

The three men grab their items and run after the others in Sofi’s direction.

“What if they’re hunting us?” the Israeli asks.

“Better a moving target than a sitting duck,” Ren answers.

They catch up to the others. The Israeli walks up to Sofi.

“Jakob,” he introduces.

“Forgive me if I don’t remember,” she replies.

“You Korean?” he asks.

“You Jewish?” she replies.

“Israeli.”

“Long way from home, Jake.”

“I was studying at U Tokyo before the invasion. You?”

“My parents fled during the Unification War and rewarded themselves by conceiving me.”

Jakob smiles.

“What a lovely prize,” he says.

Sofi blushes.

Walking with Genji, Ren spies Sofi and the Israeli walking together.

“What do you think?” Ren asks.

“About our chances?” Genji replies.

“No, mine.”

“What?” Genji asks.

“Sofi.”

Genji looks over at Ren.

“Are you serious?” he asks.

“What?” Ren asks with a shrug.

Genji shakes his head as they continue walking.