Freeland

A series of beeps warn of high carbon monoxide levels inside the lifebox. The force bubble protecting an unconscious Kanzu evaporates into a cool mist. Moments later, the lifebox opens, releasing the cool steam outside. Blinding light from outside floods inside, followed by silhouettes of two elongated hands. They retrieve Kanzu from the box and gently rest her on a foam-like mat placed just outside the lifebox. The salty air stimulates Kanzu’s nostrils. She slowly opens her eyes to see the silhouette looking down at her.

“Gunta…” she exhales.

As the cool mist dissipates, the silhouette morphs into an older hominoid male named Tino, with white hair, orange skin, and halo holes around his head. After a double-take, Kanzu attempts to sit upright with Tino’s help.

“You are safe, young one,” he says.

Kanzu looks around to see other locals helping more new arrivals along the coast. Hominoids wearing uniforms identical to Tino drive around in golf carts.

“Who are you?” she asks.

“They call me Tino. And you?”

She tries to stand. The shorter Tino helps her up.

“Kanzu.”

She turns a hundred and eighty degrees to see three more hominoids standing beside two golf carts parked a few feet away. Kanzu surveys the local hominoids carting off the handful of open lifeboxes littering the beach. She looks up at the orange sun struggling to pierce the hazy sky. Her attention shifts to a large boat filled with passengers sailing north. A faint, buzzing noise then draws her eyes upward to a refurbished, twenty-first century commercial plane flying west over the sea. She finally turns back to Tino.

“What is this place?”

“Most fortunate for you… The Landings.”

“My brother Gunta, have you seen him?”

Tino looks over at the three hominoids, two female and one male, who shake their heads.

“If he reached these shores, we will find him,” Tino answers.

Kanzu spots a few locals on a large motor boat fishing another survivor from the sea. They then tow the survivor’s lifebox back to shore with them. Kanzu runs toward them.

“Gunta? I’m coming, brother!”

Kanzu slows as she realizes the survivor is not her brother. She kneels on the sand and cries. A small, open canteen appears in front of Kanzu and jiggles. Kanzu looks up to see Tino standing over her with the canteen. She grabs the canteen and drinks.

“Easy,” Tino warns.

Water trickles from the side of her mouth. She hands the canteen back to Tino.

“Grats,” Kanzu responds.

Tino extends his free hand.

“If your brother is here, we will find him.”

Kanzu accepts Tino’s hand and stands up. Tino escorts the larger Kanzu back to the hominoids waiting by the two parked golf carts.

“We were on a ship,” Kanzu explains.

“As were we, revs ago.”

One of the waiting hominoids, a scarlet freckled female, intercepts them and takes the canteen.

“They call me Deena,” she says with a smile.

Tino and the scarlet hominoid help Kanzu to a parked golf cart.

“Deena, meet Kanzu.”

They secure her in the front passenger seat. Tino sits in the driver seat while the scarlet hominoid opens a chest sitting in the seat behind Kanzu. She pulls out a long, wriggling worm and feeds it to Kanzu who slurps it up. The scarlet hominoid then refills the small canteen and proceeds to pour some water into Kanzu’s mouth to help wash down the worm.

“Grats, Deena.”

“The life you save may save another,” the scarlet hominoid replies with a smile.

She takes the seat behind Tino, who activates the golf cart and drives.

“Where are we going?”

“We have recorded your master’s markings,” Tino says, glancing over at the ocean. “Let’s hope your brother was as fortunate as you.”

“Where is this Landings?” Kanzu asks.

“One of five islands under the Freeland Protectorate,” Tino answers. “Freeland, for short.”

Kanzu’s eyes light up.

“Free…land?” she asks.

“Can you recall your journey, Kanzu?”

“Something happened to our masters’ ship. Have you seen it?”

“No ship crashed here,” Tino says.

“You were awake?” the scarlet hominoid asks.

“Yes,” Kanzu answers.

“But you wear no halo,” the scarlet hominoid responds.

“Our masters had just removed it for the journey home.

“Shame,” the scarlet hominoid says.

Kanzu turns to face her.

“Why is that such a shame?”

“She means no disrespect, Kanzu. Deena merely laments the missed opportunity to acquire more tech we can repurpose.”

“For what?” Kanzu asks.

“For the community,” Tino answers.

“Apologies,” Kanzu says to the scarlet hominoid before turning back around.

Tino navigates the rocky terrain as they head inland. Kanzu spots locals loading the empty lifeboxes onto a large boat.

“My lifebox,” Kanzu says.

“Our compensation for services rendered,” Tino answers. “Only personal items you keep.”

The golf carts drive down a dirt road. They pass a village of various hominoids waving at them or simply going about their day.

“Where we you conceived?” Kanzu asks.

“On the other side of the planet,” Tino answers.

“Do you miss it?”

“I miss my master.”

“Your master?” Kanzu chuckles.

Tino smiles.

“He dropped me here.”

Kanzu spots a group of hominoid locals playing futbol. A hominoid boy with zebra-like skin sees Kanzu, smiles and waves. Kanzu returns the favor, prompting the zebra-boy’s friends to playfully tease him.

“And here, there are no masters,” Kanzu says.

“There are masters everywhere,” the scarlet hominoid responds.

Kanzu looks back at the scarlet hominoid smiling at her.

“Deena speaks the truth,” Tino says.

Tino drives into the lot across from Landings Port. He parks the golf cart and they exit. Stretching her limbs, Kanzu observes the bustling port. She spots a queue of hominoids boarding a two-story catamaran fitted with gun turrets and a capital ‘F’ logo emblazoned on its side. Seagulls perched on the catamaran take turns hunting fish.

The second golf cart with the other two hominoids parks beside them.

“Apologies, Kanzu,” the driver says. “No one has seen your brother or his lifebox.”

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The second golf cart’s passenger holds out a wafer-thin electronic pad, or e-pad, that projects a holographic map of their current location and surrounding islands. She points to the Landings, then slides her long, right index finger north over a chain of neighboring islands, including the southern tip of the former Japanese mainland.

“However, spotters tracked a damaged ship heading south,” the hominoid passenger says. “But there’s nothing out there but open sea.”

“No one will take you that far, Kanzu. It’s too dangerous.”

“Then take me north,” Kanzu says.

“I must take you to register,” Tino counters. “It’s our law.”

Kanzu turns to Tino.

“My brother is north.”

“And how will you go north without sea transport?” the scarlet hominoid asks. “Or resources?”

Kanzu pouts.

“It appears negotiations have concluded,” Tino says.

The second golf cart’s passenger reaches in back and grabs Kanzu’s sack. He hands it to the scarlet hominoid, who hands it to Kanzu.

“Trust Tino,” the scarlet hominoid says. “He has extended many lives.”

Kanzu looks at Tino.

“How long is this registration?”

“Long enough to prepare you for what lies north,” Tino replies.

Kanzu sighs and follows Tino to the catamaran while the others stay behind. She and Tino wait in a special boarding line of refugees and their local handlers. A port guard accepts Tino’s genetic credentials. Kanzu looks around, sighs, and reluctantly boards the boat with Tino. To her surprise, she sees uniformed Terrans ushering passengers to their seats. An Indian male usher escorts her and Tino to their seats.

“Follow me, please,” the Indian usher requests.

Kanzu and Tino follow him.

“He’s archaic,” Kanzu whispers.

“You’ll get used to it,” Tino whispers back.

The Indian usher directs them to their seats and then leaves. Tino offers Kanzu the window seat which she gladly accepts. He takes the aisle seat, leaving an empty seat between them. Kanzu places her sack on the middle seat but holds onto the strap.

“How far south?” Kanzu asks.

“Not far,” Tino says before leaning back. “But, we should rest while we have the time.”

Kanzu looks around at all the various types of hominoid refugees, most of which are without implants. She locks eyes with a middle-aged male hominoid smiling at her. Kanzu quickly turns back to the window, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the glass.

Those on the dock wave to the passengers as the catamaran departs. The scarlet hominoid nods at Kanzu who nods back. A few yards behind the scarlet hominoid, an aggressive hominoid refugee attacks his male handler. The scarlet hominoid and her associates join others in beating the aggressive refugee to death while port officers watch. The angry mob disperses, leaving the port officers to carry off the corpse and sanitize the area. Kanzu turns to Tino.

“It’s the law,” Tino replies with his eyes still closed.

“Tino, I have to relieve myself.”

“Relief rooms are to the back. Your personal items are safe here.”

Kanzu heads to the back of the catamaran. She enters the vacant restroom and relieves herself. Leaving the restroom, Kanzu looks in Tino’s direction and spots him resting with his hand on the sack strap. She then turns to a set of stairs and makes her way up to the exposed second level of the catamaran. Kanzu walks over to the railing and soaks up the salty breeze when she spots a nearly empty catamaran heading back toward the Landings.

A European usher approaches her with a box of dried insect bars.

“Protein?” the European usher offers.

“Grats,” Kanzu says.

The European usher hands her an insect bar and continues on. Kanzu enjoys her insect bar while watching the seagulls congregating on the beams above. A cloud of smoke drifts past her face.

“Greetings,” a male hominoid says.

Clenching her fists, Kanzu turns to see a baby-faced, male hominoid with yellow leopard print on red skin, tiny holes around his head, smiling at her. The slender, baby-faced hominoid takes another puff from his vape pen before putting it in his pocket.

“What do you want?” Kanzu asks.

“They call me, Finik. And you?”

“Exhausted.”

The baby-faced hominoid sniffs the air around Kanzu.

“You smell…pure,” he says.

Kanzu sniffs the air around him and frowns.

“You don’t,” she replies. “Excuse me.”

Kanzu attempts to walk away, but the baby-faced hominoid grabs her.

“Strong,” he says. “We can have stronger offspring.”

Kanzu forcefully releases his grip and squeezes his hand. The baby-faced hominoid winces, unable to conceal the pain.

“Your genes would only weaken them,” she responds.

Kanzu brushes past the baby-faced hominoid, who records her scent with his nostrils while tending to his sore hand. He watches her walks down the stairs.

“Sir?” the European usher interrupts.

The baby-faced hominoid turns to see the European usher holding out the last dried insect bar. He takes the insect bar from the European usher and eats it.

Down below, Kanzu passes over a sleeping Tino and sits by the window.

“Any trouble?” Tino asks with closed eyes.

“No,” Kanzu replies, staring out at sea until the catamaran rocks her to sleep.

The New Batch

Packed with human cattle, a Lorian cargo shuttle glides down an alien thoroughfare that cuts through the ruins of a Japanese wasteland. Nearly two Terran city blocks in length, the floating transport contains a series of three-inch air holes for its Terran livestock to breathe the thick air outside. The air holes offer a minor respite from the putrid combination of feces, urine, vomit, and bodily odors wafting throughout the cargo shuttle. Unfazed, the sole Lorian in the cockpit routinely monitors both the console and cargo to ensure a smooth delivery as she pilots the shuttle east.

Inside the shuttle’s cargo bay, Genji and his family huddle together. Like the other helpless passengers, the trio is cramped, hungry, and anxious. Under dim red lighting, the captives cry, scream, pray, and cough while sitting or lying in foul conditions.

Staring through an air hole, Jino studies the decayed ruins of a once great Terran metropolis. He ignores the familiar gray skies, instead focusing on the steel, concrete, and collagen that once touched the clouds before the Xenos brought them all down to earth.

At a fork in the thoroughfare, the cargo shuttle takes the southern path. Man’s once magnificent structures shrink until only rubble remains.

Yumi holds her son close. She peeks through another air hole to see the Lorians expanding the former international airport for their own transport hub. An enormous alien ship idles on the entire runway while patrol drones augment the few security personnel guarding the perimeter. Yumi spots a group of Lorians of various sizes boarding the massive vessel as it preps for takeoff. From a distance, the brutal, four-armed creatures appear almost human.

“I’m hungry,” Jino whispers as his stomach growls.

“I know, baby,” Yumi answers. “But we have to be strong right now, okay?”

Jino nods. Yumi’s eyes drift through the crowd, stopping at another woman staring back at her. She then spots a sickly man lying on the floor as others reluctantly cover him with human waste. The sickly man remains frozen, too weak to extricate himself from the degrading experience. Yumi turns to Genji.

Genji,” she pleads.

“I know,” he replies.

Genji looks through another air hole to see a large Lorian hoverboat speeding from the bay while another returns from the sea. The triangle-shaped water crafts glide across the water, leaving very little wake. They circumnavigate the partial, rusted hull of a battleship. Atop the hull, a tattered Japanese flag waves defiantly, suspended in both water and time.

Before the Lorians made their grand entrance, this magnificent view was obstructed by tall, bright skyscrapers. Now? This once bustling metropolis, now reduced to a nearly flat carpet of rock, metal and bone, offers a clear view of the land mass across the bay.

A hovershuttle pulls up beside the cargo shuttle, slowly passing them. Genji briefly makes eye contact with an adolescent Lorian passenger ogling back through his window. The hovershuttle speeds ahead, allowing Genji to catch a glimpse of the returning Lorian boat entering the bay. The fishing boat drags a large catch of various fish and other strange sea creatures trapped in some sort of glowing net.

Jino points out at the bay and asks, “What’s that?”

“That was the Aqua Line,” Yumi answers. “The Metro.”

Drained of tears, Yumi studies the remnants of an underwater highway that once linked both sides of the bay. She then catches a final glimpse of the defiant Japanese flag on the battleship before a large series of alien structures obstruct her view. The cargo shuttle decreases speed as it approaches a gigantic industrial complex.

Fighting back tears to project what little resolve remains, Genji turns and makes eye contact with fellow passengers. Packed like sardines, they subliminally share the same thought:

End of the line.

End of the Line

The cargo shuttle stops. After a series of indescribable sounds bellowing outside, the interior lighting switches from a dim red to a bright green. Seconds later, the cargo door slides open and a ramp extends into a brightly lit open room. A blinding light shines down on the human cattle, limiting their vision to within a few feet. Although a number of passengers exit the cargo shuttle to stretch and breathe, the rest hesitate to disembark.

Still inside, Genji peeks through the air holes as he approaches the exit. First of the trio to reach the exit, Jino spots a man sprinting away in the distance, only to slam into an invisible wall. The impact knocks the man on his back with a bloody nose. A few prisoners tend to him. Genji, Yumi, and Jino huddle a few feet from the cargo shuttle when rabid growls echo around them, followed by a series of horns.

Inside the cargo shuttle, prisoners sitting, praying, or crying rise quickly and exaggerate their tiptoes toward the exit. They push their way forward, shoving those ahead off the shuttle. Those caught barefoot are the first to falter, burning their hands upon touching the ground. Those too weak to move can only scream in helpless horror as their flesh sizzles on the soiled floor, releasing an unimaginable stench.

“They’re cooking us!” a poor soul trapped inside screams.

Genji grabs Jino and Yumi as they watch the stampede unfold. Those stronger, faster, smarter, or just plain luckier escape the searing shuttle. They witness the weak and unfortunate cook to death on the superheated floor until there’s nothing but ash.

The floor cools, the ramp retracts, and the cargo shuttle door slides shut. Another invisible wall slides down in front of the cargo shuttle door, boxing in the survivors.

The Lorian pilot reactivates the cargo shuttle and speeds off.

“Stay close,” Genji orders.

Genji, Yumi, and Jino huddle tight as the ground trembles. Everyone screams as the blinding light limits their vision to eye level. The rumbles increase as two large, scaly Lorian feet appear outside one of the walls. Yellow goo drips between its feet.

“Papa,” Jino says.

He points to two more alien feet that appear outside another wall, creating more panic inside the invisible cage. Yumi turns to Genji just as the blinding light dims, increasing their range of sight. The two giant aliens growl while their captives squeeze toward the center of their prison. Genji looks up to see the Lorian Nooz staring down at him and his family.

“Only one exit, Terrans,” Nooz growls incoherently.

The aliens low pitched sounds cause more than a few prisoners to lose bowel control. The other giant growls and motions as if savoring the moment. Nooz remotely lowers a metallic ceiling onto the top of the invisible walls. The metallic ceiling releases orange gas their large prison. Panic intensifies, then subsides as the Terran cattle pass out again.

“Do it, Genji,” Yumi cries. “Do it now.”

“Do what, Mama?” Jino asks.

“Yumi…” Genji says.

“Papa…” Jino says before passing out.

Genji and Yumi kneel down beside their only child.

“Kill us,” Yumi pleads.

Tears stream down Genji’s face.

“I…I can’t,” Genji says.

“You…prom…” Yumi responds before passing out.

Covering his mouth and nose, Genji frantically looks around as others fall unconscious. Holding his breath, he stands as defiant as that Japanese flag in the bay and looks directly up at Nooz.

“Fuck you!” he incoherently roars at Nooz before succumbing to the gas.

All of Nooz’s six oculars stare at Genji as he blankets himself over his wife and son.

“Initiate quarantine,” the other Lorian growls at Nooz.

Nooz and his Lorian comrade activate their drones which detach from their respective backs and scan each prisoner, wirelessly transferring the data to an alien computer somewhere in the facility. The other Lorian appears as if salivating over their prisoners.

“Illegal consumption of government property will result in termination,” Nooz barks.

“Most unfortunate,” the Lorian colleague responds.

The alien computer processes the drone scans and instructs the two Lorians to sort their human cattle into various categories. Nooz reviews the alien computer’s analysis when his oculars review Genji, Yumi, and Jino’s genetic coding. He then assigns the family to shared confinement.