The Arkhe Principle (Book Book 1)

by Maxwell Rudolf

  He laughed. "You are already drunk."

  She smiled and took another swallow. The brand was a cheap rip-off of a more expensive malt she had tried a few times. The horrible chalky-coal aftertaste clung to the inside of her throat, and she stared in the glass wanting to spit it out. She put her drink down and pushed the button. The waitress image reappeared.

  "How may I assist you?"

  "Yes, I would like a Lime Oliver Twist. Oh, and a double shot of Firey's Cinnamon Whiskey. Two double shots." She turned to Reginald. "You like Firey's?" He nodded. "Yeah, two. Oh, and remove this crappy drink out of my face. This is bloody awful."

  "Thank you, ma'am. We apologize for the inconvenience. Your drinks will be ready for you in 90 seconds. Will there be anything else?"

  "No, that is all."

  The image disappeared, and Rosie pushed her drink aside. "Taste that and tell me if you think it tastes like chalk."

  "I believe you. I did not want to gush over how you look, but you are stunning this evening. You always are, but I have never seen you like this." He drank some from his Marshmallow, and she gently pulled it from him and took a sip.

  "Not bad. What's in it?"

  "Filtered honey gin, expresso, and marshmellow synth sugar. I think our drinks are ready. Be right back."

  He brought back their tray and stood the glasses in on the table.

  "Here is to you, Rosie," he said. She was sure he was going to say something corny before the night had ended but hoped he would wait until she was obliterated so she could maybe appreciate it.

  She giggled at him and downed a shot.

  "Not bad," he looked into the glass as if he hadn't done a shot before.

  Rosie took another shot. "You ever think of what you want to do when you are older?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Are you the dating type, Reg?" She laughed and he looked down at his shoe.

  "No." Come on Reg. Don't say no. Act like a man.

  "Okay, so what? Me either. I have not been with a guy in years, not since my ex. This is me starting over, too."

  "Do you mean you would like to be in a relationship?"

  "Yes... Damn... Something is going to have to be done about you and your conversation skills. Of course, I meant you. I am stealing you though. I know the girls are going to be all over you at your new work."

  He edged over and gently put one hand on her face and looked into her eyes. She could sense his pain and saw decades of loneliness in his eyes. His body was trembling. He turned away, moving his face from her so she couldn't get a clear look.

  "I am so happy now, I do not know what to say..." Long tears rolled down his cheeks and Rosie smiled. Her heart tore open like an unopened love letter, and she brought him in close and started crying too, for no reason whatsoever.

  She stopped and pulled away.

  "What's wrong?"

  This time it was her tears running down her face. She wiped the black streaks away and got up from the table. She turned to see Reg at the edge of the seat, still deciding on whether or not to chase after her or not. She went into the toilet and locked the door.

  Toilet paper had been balled up wet in the corner, and the room's smell made her gag. She breathed through her mouth, looked, and flushed the toilet. It was clogged, and water started flowing out of the toilet and on the floor.

  She wasn't able to escape in time and some of the fecal bits and piss water splashed up against her new high-heeled shoes. She let out some hate speech as she backed away to the door. Rosie decided to make her escape.

  Reginald was outside, and when she opened the door, the smell gassed out.

  She stormed past him towards the table.

  "What is it?" She wanted to tell him but now was not the time or place. And he might not even understand anyway.

  "Take me home," she ordered.

  Back inside his Ovr, she cranked the music loud and glared out the window. She didn't want to talk now, and this whole date was a fail from the start.

  "What did I do wrong? Tell me."

  The more he asked and begged, the more pathetic he became. Oh, why couldn't he be tough? She was tired of always being in control and wanted to be taken care of for once. She had only a general idea of what she was going to say when she got out of his Ovr. Rosie didn't want to hurt his feelings, nor did she want to burn this bridge permanently. But the date was an unmitigated disaster.

  Once he pulled up in front of her house, she opened the door and exited. "You should go find someone normal at your new work. I will make it simple for you."

  He cranked his door open and slammed the door. "That's a damn lie. You're lying right now. Quit it. You got scared. Scared that I would hurt you like your ex did, and you ran away. From me. The only man who has ever had any real feelings for you."

  "Get the hell out of here." She slammed her fist on his Ovr and made a shoo motion with her hands.

  But he walked toward her front door.

  "On second thought," she faced him. "You have to go. I am not ready for any of this. I will call you. Forget what I said. It is not you, it is me."

  "Are you sure?" He rooted himself.

  "No, I am okay. Go." She wasn't at all sure what she wanted anymore, but standing outside in the cold wasn't part of it.

  "I just wanted to say that I really value us. I have wanted to say something to you..."

  "And that is exactly what I don't want you to say, damn it." She turned toward her door and he followed. "Take another step and see what happens..." she growled.

  "Rosie..." He was a few steps from her.

  The sky above them thundered and right on cue, it started to hail off in the background. She winced. Really?

  "What is it Reg? GET OFF MY PROPERTY!"

  The hail started coming down on them, slamming heavy chunks of ice on his Ovr and her Lionheart. "Get inside, stinkpot," she decided. "But no funny stuff, and you are sleeping in my son's bed."

  It was a decision she never regretted, and she broke every rule she made.

  29 The Land of the Nothing

  Land of the Nothing

  Year 318 St. George Calendar

  Day 249 St. George Calendar

  Year: ? C.E.

  Day:

  Continent:

  Capital:

  Arkhe Unit Version: >>Unknown

  System Error

  Structural functioning malfunction code 2.4-9++7.8.3.

  Centralizing. Installing tergum ratio. Error CCCXC.

  Restarting in E-Network speak. Consciousness Gate Function

  VICTORIA TESLA: Select one of these symbols representing (heads and/or faces) to indicate what genome group you are: {*| {^| {+| {=| {$| {x| {| {0| {@| {Ö| {Ô|

  She cracked her eyes open from the sleep crush, breathing in rose-scented air, bringing her out of her dream. Something remained but when she blinked open her eyes, seeing the Oracle White walls, whatever she dreamed about disappeared. She ran her hand over the baby blue covers and pulled the quilt of relaxed Plasstien off. A ceiling fan shushed overhead and large glow orbs inlaid into the wall provided soft, ambient lighting.

  Purple and orange flowers bloomed outside the window, and a small black bird with a needle beak sucked from one of the flowers. A stalk of green, blending in with the rest of the flowers, exploded out, forming its tip into a ball of spikes, and swung, catching the bird on its body. Down it went.

  She reached up, feeling her hair. Feeling the short coif cut, she frowned. Who would dare cut a girl's hair like this without even asking? She wore a bathrobe and at the bottom of her bed, a pair of slippers awaited her feet. Victoria sat up and slipped the bunny shoes on. Nice and comfy. Someone knocked.

  "Who is it?" She asked in American.

  "Dr. Yessei Al-Hussein. May I come in?" His accent rang strange, like hearing a malfunctioning piece of tech, but his reply in Demonic Tradespeak Fast-Food American was better than her own.

  "Come in."

  Dr. Al-Hussein wore American-style je
ans and a baggy, silver, button-down, long sleeve shirt. His dark skin and eyes of gold with silver insets reminded her of the villains in the vids, and she eyed the bio-locked door he came in. Wedging inside the crook of his arm, he held a modern E-Reader. He considered her and punched in something.

  "Victoria Tesla. Welcome to Site 66 in The Unified Empire of Europa. I hope you've slept well. We found this on you," his fingers held the pass one of her fathers had given her.

  "Yes, thanks. Are my parents here?" She wanted it back, but as she was thinking of a way to ask him to hand it over, he slipped the Plasstien babble in his front pocket.

  "One of your alpha fathers are here. Would you like to speak to him?"

  "Yes, please!"

  "Wait here."

  When he left, the door click locked. She shot up off the bed and bolted to the window, checking if it too was locked. Victoria's hand reached over, making sure to watch for insects, and grabbed the lever atop the window.

  "Cease your activity! The Outside is forbidden until accompanied by a parent or supervisor," said a tiny hole in the wall.

  She yanked her hand back and sprinted towards the bed. All this for Dr. Bells. Something moved inside her again, and she remembered him panting over her, asking vulgar questions and being disgusting. If there was one thing her parents could help her with, it would be in killing him. Slowly. Because that's what vermin like him deserve. And if they weren't going to help with that, she'd find a way to murder him by herself. Her promise to the American land wights of Liberty and Justice would be fulfilled. If St. George was right, an eternity in hell would be worth the cost.

  The door buzzed and a closely shaven man walked in, almost hitting his head on the door jam. His American urban camo informed her of who he was, and she jumped up and threw her arms around him. She interlaced her hands across his back, not wanting to ever let go for any reason, and he hugged her back in the same way. Dr. Al-Hussein came back in and cleared his throat.

  "Would you mind leaving the room so I can talk to my father?"

  He sneered and locked the door behind him. "He took the pass."

  Her father rubbed her hair, and grinned. "The important thing is that you made it. We've been waiting for you for years. You don't need a pass anymore. Follow me. Let me take you to a wonderful place."

  Brown walls set with plate-sized digi-screens displayed The Outside, and as they walked down the hall, several techs, dressed in smocks, moved aside. Soldiers stared on, and everyone stopped talking. The end terminated in a glass door, and he opened the door for her. Outside, they had planted trees in endless rows with bright-colored fruits dangling from their overextended limbs. Victoria sprinted to a tree, pulling a large bright, glowing red crescents from one. She snatched a few more and looked behind her.

  "What are these?"

  "That's a neo-banana. Here." He took one and showed her how to peel from the side. She bit, tasting the sugar, mashing down too hard with her teeth. It didn't take long, and she was on her next. When she went to eat another, he grabbed her hand and pulled the fruit away. "You shouldn't eat more than two a day at your age and in your condition. Usually, these are reserved for adults. You might feel a little strange in a few minutes, but you'll be fine. As we walk around, I'll explain where we are."

  Victoria tried to take everything in: the new plants, the birds, the people. This place exceeded what her parents had told her. A place like this could hold hundreds, if not thousands of people with all this food. Why hasn't this place been attacked yet? How were these trees growing out here in the Wasteland?

  Her father gestured around. "What do you think? We told you it would be different."

  "It's beyond gorgeous! I've never seen flowers like this before." Her head was like a balloon and she gave her dad another hug almost falling down.

  "The Unified Empire of Europa dates back well into the Pre-Times. This whole area was around when the Brown Glass Desert was green and the Dead Water Zone was named The American Silicon Telecaster Federal Corporation Lake."

  She spun, hearing a man run toward them, and entered a combat stance. It was Dr. Al-Hussein carrying a folded vermilion piece of paper in his hand, and he handed it to Victoria's father.

  He read, biting his lip. "Follow me."

  "She can't be presented like this." Al-Hussein implored.

  "I'll decide how my own daughter is presented."

  "She is more than just your daughter now, citizen," he hissed. "You have been summoned." Al-Hussein led them to the other side of the building where stone seats and fire braziers surrounded a circular stone tiled centerpiece depicting a green landmass. Worn and chipped, most of the mosaic lay in pieces. The doctor grabbed her arm and pulled her away from her father, hurrying her to the center. When she turned to see if her father was still there, she found herself alone.

  But only a moment later, people ushered in and started filling up the amphitheater-style seating, all dressed in white, crisp uniforms without rank, a name badge, or any medals. Soon every seat was filled and the low chatter of people filled the air like a concert.

  A woman lumbered over to the front of the assembly, wearing an olive-colored American uniform. "Welcome to Site 66 on behalf of what is left of Europa. My name is President Edwards," she extended her arms, encompassing the entire region. "Around this place extending for hundreds and even thousands of kilometers nothing but the wasteland exists. It's a miracle you found us. You are truly gifted."

  The eyes of the assembly trained on her, and the people seemed to be holding their breath for her next word. She paced back and forth, sizing her up, and smiling. "But we are safe from the outside. Our glories cannot be denied."

  Victoria crossed her arms. "Where's my dad?"

  "He wasn't invited." The President stepped forward placing her hand low, "We understand you have mated with Dr. Bells. How far are you in your pregnancy?"

  "Three months." Victoria recoiled at her hand trying to touch her abdomen.

  "I see. The time is now. You have saved us from certain extinction by your own existence. Your intelligence and humility are a testament to your bearing, courage, and honor. You represent the pinnacle of selfless sacrifice in the face of the enemy, and we here, salute you." The crowd roared and cheered her name like she had done something other than be raped by an animal. And her stomach ached and she wanted to be with her father now and be left alone by these people. None of this made sense, and she felt alone again. Like always, and probably forever.

  The next morning, several attendants walked in and bathed her, scrubbing her nails down and popping her blisters. They combed her newly cut hair and applied black hair dye. They painted her finger and toenails silver and dressed her in a dress meant for a Pre-Times countess with arrays of one karat diamonds circling her neck and wrists. She was given matching jewelry and off she went.

  She was led into a black room with a single chair. There was a screen in front on her, and as she looked up, she saw the tell-tale circle of a projector. The machine started up and a perfectly androgynous person pixilated into the air. His hair was cut at the shoulders, framing an oval face layered in spiraling make-up.

  "I am here to instruct you about Site 66. My name is Kris. We are attempting to solve The Great Arkhe here." He made a series of military hand gestures.

  "I want nothing to do with this. I was told my presence here would be enough."

  "You have been instructed not to use the word aloud, and we have devised several elaborate paragraphs you will memorize in order to speak about this experience. You will also be advanced as part of your reward for finding us."

  "Wait a second..."

  Time slowed down and sliced like a penny about to fall over but refusing to obey.

  The voices—mechanical and unnatural, hundreds of mechanical voices... spoke but none sounded...human. "Victoria Telsa. I am Arkhe. You are being adapted to fulfill an obligation. Your sacred deoxyribonucleic acid stands at the core of fundamental principles. When necessary, I will
intervene on a quantum level, as I have done in the past when you have called upon this unit." The voice made a grinding sound like an autocraft crashing into a Plassticrete wall. "...routes to Section A-0 are juxtaposing. Access denied to Service Module 00101001. Rerouting procedurrrrr... Komodo Class Trade Ships."

  Her heart nearly stopped, and she moved her head from side to side hoping someone else had heard the same thing and could explain. "Huh? What's that?"

  The voice paused. "Information classified."

  Glitching out, a figure in Oracle White appeared beneath his image. "Sorry. Technical error. Everything may possess Plasstien, including food. Unfortunately, this will render all non-neo animals as inedible. Extinction plans are still in process and are predicted to end in 25 years. Violence is progression towards UNIFICATION ERROR." It sputtered.

  "DNA Number:235-ATGC-21912$>_Alpha_Original, your disruptive genetic entanglement is forming drastic unfortunate side effects..." The form turned to static.

  "Wait!" She nearly teleported herself to the wall telecaster and punched in the routine number for tech support, hoping the numbers would be the same as they were in St. George.

  "Technical support. How may we assist you?" Her voice sounded like she had been replying to a 5-year old asking questions and was ready to quit her job.

  "Something happened in here! I was contacted by something!"

  "State the paragraph."

  "What?! I just got here literally a few hours ago."

  The line zeroed and when she called back, the operator hung up on her before she could get a word in. The door slammed open and medics swarmed her, held her down, and injected her with something.

  Her belly ached. She propped herself up and found herself in Medical. A narrow synth skin scar bisected her lower abdomen. She reached over to a food tray and slurped down some jellied foods.

  A nurse walked in, smiled, and checked the medical machines mounted on the wall. "How are you feeling?"

  "Was it a boy or girl?"

  "A boy."