“Please, Mike,” Kari pleaded once more.
Mike shook his head gently, tears streaming unashamedly down his own face. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he murmured, holding her close to him. “I can't go, and you have to. I need you to take care of Jenni. You promised me.”
Anger filled Kari's eyes for a moment as she looked over Mike's shoulder to her father. She blamed him for that one, and rightly so. Kasoniak knew her anger would cool, in time. The important thing was she was getting on the ship.
Mike turned to go. Hershey obediently left Kari's side, trotting toward his boy.
“No, Hershey,” Mike reprimanded, knowing this time he meant it. “Stay.”
The dog ignored the command and walked briskly over to Mike, sitting at his feet.
Mike knelt down, grabbing Hershey by the ruff and hugging him tightly. “You stay, boy. You're a good dog, you stay, Hershey,” he instructed, his voice breaking. He pushed Hershey toward Kari, who disregarded the dog. Kasoniak bent, holding Hershey by his collar, as Mike walked toward the jeep.
Hershey struggled in confusion, whining as Mike got into the vehicle without him. As the jeep drove away, Hershey's frantic barking could be heard clear across the compound.
Planetoid L732 ... working designation, Genesis ... was as lovely and pristine as Scientist-Farmer promised it would be. Col. Dick Kasoniak stood with an arm around his daughter, looking down at a valley that made his heart ache with the serenity it portended. A small community of houses sat clustered around the shore of an enormous lake and he swore he could see docks and fishing boats even from this distance. The grass was Kentucky bluegrass green, the wildflowers were stunningly beautiful and aromatic, and the clouds above were billowy white perfection.
Kari leaned against him and sighed, a sound of both joy and terrible pain.
“I’m sorry he couldn’t see this, sweetheart,” Kasoniak murmured sympathetically. “Maybe it would have changed his mind.”
Kari shrugged noncommittally and reached down to pat Butterball on the head. The cream-colored dog was almost half-grown now, and she showed signs of being an avid hunting companion.
They had spent the four months of the journey in a state of sedated sleep ... for their own “protection.” Honestly, none of them knew if they would wake up at all, much less to everything they were promised ... and more. The Invincible had been landing shuttles for more than six hours, and Kasoniak and Kari finally received their destination fobs as well as the small, gravitationally controlled porter carts for their possessions. Kari nodded to the cart filled with the sundry personal items she’d been allowed to bring and smiled at her father.
“Mike would be all over this thing,” she said with a laugh. “He would be tearing it apart to see how it - hey! There’s Paul and Soldier Girl! And Jennifer!”
The two girls ran toward each other, hugging eagerly and chatting happily while Col. Kasoniak and the young ROTC private glanced at each other with respectively tolerant and awestruck smiles. Butterball and Soldier Girl barked and danced around in excitement, and then a deeper, louder bark filled the air.
Hershey came loping forward, his tongue lolling out as he raced toward the humans he loved and the silly little yippyfaced dog. He sniffed butts with Soldier Girl, not remembering her, and then jumped up on Kari and licked her face. He knew it was definitely not a good dog thing to do, but he was just so happy to see her! Kari hugged him, happy tears running down her face. She looked behind him and froze.
Mike walked toward them, his pace unhurried, his eyes taking everything in with wonder. Kari cried out and ran up to Mike with a sob, throwing herself into his arms and kissing him repeatedly. “You came!” she wept, then swatted at him when he laughed at her. “You changed your mind!”
Mike grinned. “Yeah, I guess I did,” he said wryly. “I think I just got curious and I had to see the place, you know? I couldn’t let it go.”
Kari hugged him again, and Col. Kasoniak came up and clapped him on the shoulder while Jenn tackled him at waist level. Paul gave him a shy smile, and Hershey, Butterball, and Soldier Girl ran and jumped around, barking joyously to add to the pandemonium.
In the distance, on a hillside overlooking the hundreds and hundreds of people disembarking from the shuttles, a pink, blue, and green aura glowed brightly in the sunshine.
“You brought him,” Researcher-Xenohistorian accused.
“Yes,” Scientist-Farmer agreed.
“Even though he didn’t want to come?”
“Yes.”
“You adjusted his thought patterns?”
“Slightly, yes.”
“Because you couldn’t leave him.” It wasn’t a question, and when Scientist-Farmer didn’t comment, Researcher-Xenohistorian sighed. “You know that was so unethical,” she said, her voice disapproving.
Scientist-Farmer nodded. “Yes, but you are exactly right. I couldn’t leave him. Not after we’d come so far.”
Determinative characteristics of Classification Eight sapience.
Each characteristic must be observed before Classification Eight sapience is determined.
Being must be self-aware; it must understand that it is sapient.
Being must be sentient.
Being must have multiple brains or a single size-proportionate brain which allows for complex thought processes of Classification Seven or above.
Being must react to perceived stimuli as well as observed or sensed stimuli.
Being must be able to form complex ideas and communicate them to others.
Being must be able to understand abstract metaphorical concepts.
Being must be able to experience and understand its emotions.
Being must be able to separate its emotions from actions necessary to the greater good.
Being must possess empathy.
Being must be able to demonstrate mercy, even toward those who mean it harm.
Being must act in harmony with nature and its environment.
Being must acknowledge and protect the rights of other sentient beings.
Being must exist within a clearly defined social structure, either hierarchical, linear or commingled.
Being must have a non-aggressive, non-violent disposition; it may respond to threats of force in kind but should not initiate conflict.
Being must create complex and meaningful art.
Being must utilize color (or texture, if unsighted) in aesthetically pleasing patterns
Being must create complex and meaningful music.
Being must create complex and meaningful literature.
Being must understand Classification Eight mathematics and sciences.
Being must have a clear understanding of species history.
Being must have a sense of personal history.
Being must create and use Classification Eight complex tools.
Being must alter its environment to suit its needs.
Being must question its own creation and existence.
Being must actively seek enlightenment and new experiences.
Being must have free will.
Being must have the capability of self-sacrifice.
Being must have the ability to hope.
Being must have the ability to regret.
Being must have the ability to grieve.
Being must have the ability to feel joy, irrelative to any external stimuli.
Being must have an understanding of right and wrong.
Being must have moral guidelines by which it lives and by which it judges others of its kind.
Being must establish and strive for goals that encourage growth and prosperity for all.
Being must have Classification Eight synaptic activity (a “soul”) irrespective of whether it is a corporeal entity.
Being must have tenacity of spirit, a will to live, that exceeds the tenacity of Classification Seven sub-sapients.
Acknowledgements
Every writer always says no novel is written alone, blah-blah-blah.
This is my first published novel, and I’m here to tell you this: they are absolutely right! Bottom line is the book you picked up to read would not have happened if not for the amazing skills of my editor/cover artist/expert hand-holder Heather Anne Osborne. She is simply a GODDESS of EDITORIAL GOODNESS, and if you’re considering writing and are lucky enough to grab some of her (rapidly diminishing) time, you should do so. I promise, any errors you find in this novel are solely my own, because I tend to be thickheaded sometimes!
Beta readers. Seriously. Do not leave home without them! My beta readers caught so many mistakes that would have made me look stoopider than stoopid!! Thank you, LaDonna Eddie Pigg, Kevin Scott, C.J. Rutherford, Kayla Smith, Taylor Kennedy, Pete Dutton, Andy Ramsey and Michael Scott! LaDonna, I have your review FRAMED, hon, and no matter how many novels I ever write, your review will always have pride of place! I'll never forget how I felt the moment I read your words!
Friends ... where do I start? I have friends who have put up not only with my undependability for the past year, but also with the jags of crying, depression, manic glee, and total preoccupation with people who really DO exist (in my mind). Each of the following people have, whether they've known it or not, immeasurably helped this book come to fruition: Taylor from Florida, Lynette from Lexington, Sarah and Eric from Louisville, Trish from next door, and last, but certainly not least, the boys from Down Under, Peter Dutton (the kindest and smartest man I know, and also the self-proclaimed “crazy one!!”) and Andrew Ramsey (the “Maverick Biker”). Thank you, to all of you, more than I can say!
My adopted family from Lexington, Ma and Poppa, Bonni, Lyn and Sean ... I don’t get to see you guys nearly as much as I want to or as I should, but please know I love you all!
And lastly, I’d like to thank you, the reader whom I have imagined in my mind. (You guys are the real fictitious characters, not Mike, Kari, Hershey, et. al.!) I’ve dreamed of writing something fun and entertaining, something other people would enjoy reading, for as long as I can remember. If I’ve succeeded for you, and if you feel up to it, drop me a line at [email protected] or check out my Facebook page under the same name! I’d love to hear from some of my real imaginary friends!
About the Author
Patricia Rose was born a bookworm, and has never outgrown it. Her love of stories started with The Bobbsey Twins when she was five and continues today with the best offerings of science fiction, urban fantasy, and paranormal romance. An avid animal lover, she shares her home with her husband, her spiritual wife, two dogs, four cats, a snake, and a tarantula. Her husband, Kevin, has strongly advised her to put down her hammer, chisels, and stone tablets and come into the digital age! Iron Mike is her first publication.
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