The Complete Pendomus Chronicles Trilogy: Books 1-3 of the Pendomus Chronicles Dystopian Scifi Boxed Set Series

by Carissa Andrews

  “It’s called inbreeding ... or incest,” Fenton chimes in, “Tha’ genetic code of a human gets all garbled up an’ we ge’ walkin’ monstrosities.”

  “Well, that seems ridiculous. Why would humans choose to do something like that? Wouldn’t they know better?”

  “Not really,” Trae’s face remains guarded as he shakes his head, “Anyway, the Geneticists were appointed to run through the genetic strains and choose the best genetic matchup for each person to avoid any of these monstrosities.”

  “And they’ve been doing it ever since,” Kani says.

  “But a hundred thousand people or more live across the whole Helix. How many people do you need to avoid this? Why are they still—” I begin.

  “Precisely,” Kani says, raising both arms in agreement, “If they can control the code—or at least, the way the code gets exchanged—they can control the masses. They tell you what they want you to hear. And because people can’t think for themselves, they all go along with it.”

  Trae leans into me and says, “Kani doesn’t do well with not being the one in control.”

  His close proximity, his earthy scent, spin up my senses. Unfortunately, he frowns and takes a step back. I hug Rowan tight, trying to shield myself from further disappointment.

  “I heard you, Traeton. Maybe you’d like to explain to her how things are supposed to be done?” she says, crossing her arms across her body, “The whole mating thing, perhaps?”

  Trae flinches. Is he blushing?

  I reluctantly turn to Kani, “What do you mean, supposed to?”

  Her eyes twinkle. “Let’s just say boys and girls can connect in more ways than one.”

  For some reason, Trae’s boots are suddenly very interesting to him.

  “Well, ah … trust me,” Fenton chuckles, “once ya’ve go’ experience, life itself will never be tha same.”

  “Ugh,” Trae walks away from us.

  “Is this about the kissing thing?” Heat creeps up my neck and flushes my face, “Kani’s already explained that to me.”

  “Oh, she did, did she? How did I miss tha’ exciting talk?” Fenton says.

  “She was gawking. What was I supposed to do?” Kani points toward me defensively.

  “Yeeaah,” Fenton rumbles, “Tha’s my girl! Didya ’ear tha’, Trae? Runa here’s been a kissin’ detective.”

  “Would you three hurry up? We have more important issues to be dealing with here.” Trae says, “I’m sure Runa will agree.”

  Rowan flaps again, probably reminding me to be gentle. I loosen my grip on him.

  After nearly an hour’s trek, we finally exit the tunnel system. I bask in the sun’s rays and take slow, deep inhalations of the crisp outdoor air. My veins open and my head clears. I’ve missed these beautiful trees and the sun’s constant presence. The halo around the sun is cut deeply into the sky and in the distance, the Helix arches through the sparse trees far in the distance. Rowan flutters about, but settles into my arms, not wanting to be released yet.

  After scanning the area for potential hazards, Trae stands off to the side, taking a moment to himself. His eyes are lit up like the sky and he has the slightest smile teasing his lips.

  Kani and Fenton scuffle off to my right, throwing snow back and forth. A fluffy chunk splatters on Fenton’s yellow band and Kani laughs as she dives behind a tree.

  “Oh, ya think so, eh?” Fenton bends down, gathering more snow and packing it into a ball.

  Squealing, Kani runs a few trees down.

  Traeton shifts, kicking the snow and frowns, “Guys, let’s get things moving along.”

  Rowan squeaks, flapping in my hands and I almost drop him. When I open them, he immediately takes flight—but only to the nearest tree branch. He cocks his head to the side, watching us.

  “Go home, Rowan. You’re safe now.” I shoo my hands at him.

  He sits and chirps.

  “Did he jus’ laugh at ya?” Fenton chuckles.

  “We don’t have all day,” Traeton calls from fifty meters away, his face dark and impatient. “Come on.”

  “Uh-oh. Better appease Mr. Grumpy-Pants.” Fenton pulls down his mouth into a mock frown. The absurdity makes me giggle.

  Once we catch up, we don’t have far to walk before we’re all standing around a heap of snow.

  “What’s going on?” I search their faces, trying to figure out why we’ve stopped.

  Fenton kicks at the snow, and reveals a circular stone door with a large loop handle.

  Together, Trae and Fenton grab hold of the loop and pry the door open. It squeals loudly, landing hard on the ground. The opening is just wide enough for a single body at a time. Peering down below, a series of large metallic handles are embedded into the wall leading into the darkness.

  Fenton nods to Trae, who slips into the opening and swiftly descends. When he reaches the bottom, lights begin to illuminate the man-made tunnel below.

  “Clear,” Trae calls up, “Take up the rear, Fenton.”

  “Ya wish,” Fenton replies.

  Trae rolls his eyes and walks out of line of sight.

  Kani laughs and points at me, “I think you should go next.”

  Swinging my legs over the way I’d seen Trae, I catch the first handle and start to lower myself down. The sharp coldness of the metallic bars seep through my NanoTech gloves, making my palms sting. As I reach the bottom, Trae steps up, grabbing my waist and lowering me gently to the ground. I suck in a breath, surprised by his sudden contact. His hands are strong and powerful in the brief moment they wrap around me.

  “I— thanks,” I smile, my eyelashes fluttering.

  We stand face to face and my heart starts skipping beats.

  “Yeah, uh … there’s a big gap at the bottom,” he says, running a hand along his neck.

  Trae repels from me and leans against the wall of the tunnel. With one foot propped up, he folds his arms tightly across his chest and stares at them. Beyond him, the tunnel is illuminated its entire length to another door on the opposite end.

  “Trae, what’s going on with you?”

  I stand in front of him, giving him nowhere to run. His downcast eyes don’t move and I reach out, making him look at me. He flinches, but glances up anyway.

  “What do you mean?” His eyes widen, softening his face slightly.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you, or upset you,” my shoulders sag, but I continue, “Last night— I thought I was helping. Please don’t be mad.”

  He opens his mouth, but immediately shuts it again. Conflict brews in his eyes and I can’t figure out what I need do to fix this. Kani comes bounding off the ladder and Trae’s head snaps back down, his eyes locked on his arms.

  “Oh, please. Would you two get on with it already?” Kani chides, walking by without a second glance.

  Fenton hits the floor just behind her and the heavy door above him slams shut.

  “Get on wit wha’?”

  “They know!” Kani says, her voice reverberates off the enclosed space.

  “Yeah. Get on wit it, already.” Fenton’s grin is bright as he pats Traeton on the shoulder.

  Trae huffs, dropping his arms and rearing on Fenton. “You’re such juveniles. Runa’s brother just died yesterday, for phug’s sake. Have a little respect. Can you two honestly think of nothing else?”

  Instinctively, I take a step back. Traeton’s hands are clenched at his side and this sudden outburst of anger is unexpected.

  To my surprise, Fenton laughs him off, “Evidently you can’t.”

  16

  Runa

  AFTER A FEW MOMENTS, I will my feet to move, forcing myself to catch up with the others.

  The twinkling lights on the floor go out as I pass them, sensing I’m the last person in the tunnel. I peer into the darkness behind me with a pang of regret. Something in our dynamic has changed overnight and it’s not for the better.

  Ornate pictures are carved along the stone walls and they remind me of Kani�
��s paintings in a way. Though, they’ve clearly been here a long time, their simplistic quality draws me in. I follow their deep grooves, touching the etchings with my fingertips. The cold, gritty texture snags at my gloves, so I relieve my right hand of its sheath and try again.

  How old is this tunnel? Who created it?

  I pull my hand back from the wall, and replace my glove as I continue on.

  The others stop bickering as I approach. Fenton appears greatly amused, but Kani and Trae are ready to have an altercation.

  “Idiot,” Kani curses, staring hard at Traeton.

  “Okay, guys. Let’s cease tha ’ostilities, shall we?” Fenton cuts his hands between the two of them.

  Trae continues glaring at Kani, and refuses to acknowledge I’ve caught up.

  I search the space around us, trying to figure out our next move. There’s no door in sight.

  Fenton grins at me, answering my unspoken question, “As they used ta say on Earth, Abra-DUHcabra!”

  He pulls a metallic disc from the pocket of his jacket, and spins around.

  I take a step back, just in case.

  Fenton waves the disc in front of himself in a wide, sweeping motion. The wall directly in front shifts aside and vanishes completely within another section of the wall. We all wait for the debris tickling the air in swirling clouds to subside before entering the Archives.

  The sight on the other side of the wall is breathtaking. Stepping inside the Archives is like stepping into another world. Dark burgundy beams crisscross the light golden walls as they arc from the floor to the insanely high ceiling. At the apex, the beams create a repeating geometric pattern surrounding the windows—a five petaled flower.

  The wall closes behind us and we’re left standing in a room so vast there isn’t an end in sight. Somehow, natural light cascades in sheets from ornate windows embedded in the ceiling.

  Everyone is staring at me when I take a moment from absorbing the Archives. My cheeks burn under their scrutiny.

  “This place … is beautiful,” I say.

  “Yeah … beautiful,” barely audible, Trae agrees. He shifts his gaze to Kani, then to the floor.

  Kani rolls her eyes in response, as we move forward as a group into the large open space. For as far as my eye can see, decorative shelving units adorn the space. They’re arranged in half circle arches with a large open passageway through the center. Each one is covered in foreign objects. Some seem positively ancient, others—slightly newer. There are heaps on the floor, on tables, everywhere. It’s so overwhelming, yet somehow—familiar.

  Fenton walks to the circular table in the center of the nearest section and takes a seat in front of an older holographic screen—perhaps one of the first ever made, it looks so old. The rest of us follow him into the section. Trae sits next to Fenton, while Kani sits at the opposite end and props her arms up on the table behind her.

  “Might wanna sit down. We have now entered Fenton’s dream world. We’ll be here a while,” she says.

  I do as she says and take a seat beside her.

  “How did you every find this place?” I ask, “How old is it?”

  “We go’ no records ‘bout this place, or when it was built. Pure ’appenstance we found tha darn thing, if ya ask me. When Landry and I were out explorin’ as kids, he stubbed his toe on tha door up top. Talk about ‘stumblin’ into it.”

  “Wow,” I say.

  “I know, righ’?” Fenton says as he starts sifting through the holographic data, “Leave it ta Landry to trip over summin’ awesome.”

  “Once you get this system up and running, I think the first thing we should search for is the name Videus, again. I’d like to get a better idea of what might be going on here,” Trae says, bending in.

  “Tha’ was tha plan,” Fenton says, “I’ll probably try to crack into the Helix and do some more pokin’ ’round, too. I doub’ this system will ’ave anything tha’ isn’t completely dated.”

  Too anxious to sit still and wait, I stand up and peruse the items filling the shelves. Maybe I’ll be able to find something on Videus … or this Tree of Burden. If nothing else, the distraction helps.

  Everything has a distinct odor of something in a slow case of decomposition. I run my hand along the shelf as I peer into their depths. Each unit is packed and I wonder if these three even know what most of the items are for. Somehow I doubt it. The most prevalent thing I can make out are the mounds of antiquated electronic devices littering the shelves. I could spend my whole life down here and probably never understand what they all do.

  Why would the colonizers bring all of these things with them? If they were fleeing Earth, wouldn’t they want to take only the necessities?

  Kani is suddenly at my side, tipping her head to where my hand hovers, she asks, “Have you seen books before?”

  “No,” I admit, “Is that what these are?”

  I pull a rectangular item off the shelf and she takes it from me, “Yep.”

  She flips the object open, paper flutters about with scribbling. In some sections, even images. I lean closer, trying to make out the words.

  “We come here a lot. Took some time to understand them, but books prove to be invaluable. They allow you to witness the world from different perspectives. Did you know, some of these books were written for fun?”

  I look up at her, “Why?”

  Shrugging, she closes the book and sets it back on the shelf, then says, “To enjoy. To expand their minds. Over there, see those things on the floor? They’re sculptures. I use paint as my creative outlet, but other people used to create with clay, wood, or even stone,” She points to a large animal resembling a seated cat, “That one’s made from melted gold—a chemical element we haven’t even found on Pendomus yet. Then some sculptures further down are even made of bone.”

  My eyes widen at all the potential humanity has to create. My life has been so sheltered. I’ve never tried to tap into some kind of creative potential. I wouldn’t know where to start.

  Following Kani, we reach a section filled with items so unusual they stand out amongst everything else. One piece in particular calls to me and I pick it up, setting the object in my palm to examine a small metallic eye. It reminds me of my own, in the way a scar pulls down from the bottom. A series of circular items, some with jagged edges, and spirals scatter across the eye in differing metallic colors.

  “You think this place is old, the thing in your hand is beyond ancient,” Kani’s words make me jump and I nearly drop the eye. Smirking at me, she continues, “Anyway … This section is one of my favorites.”

  Her face is open and gentle for once.

  “See these?” Kani points at a series of statues with people who are stiff and posed. Some have animal heads and I lean in trying to figure out their purpose. Did people look like this?

  “These are Egyptian. Back on Earth, they were a revered society. Sorta revolved around a leader called a Pharaoh, but they had lots of myths about gods and goddesses. Very fascinating stuff. Anyway, they may appear a bit different, but humans haven’t evolved much in the past four thousand years. Not on the inside, anyway,” she sighs and points to my hand, “This thing is called an Eye of Horus. Or at least, I think that’s what they called it. The old records don’t show all of those gears on it, though,” she points at the circular items scattered across the eye.

  “Why does this one, then?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” she says, shrugging, “Here, I can show you what it’s supposed to be like.”

  She moves to a series of heavy books that could fall apart just by thinking about them. Plucking one off the shelf, she brings it to the table in a cloud of dust. I wave my hand in front, trying to clear the air. She flips through the book quickly, as if it’s not an integral part of humanity’s history, and stops on a picture of the eye. She’s right, the eye does look different.

  “I’m not sure who added the gears to it, or why. Might just be another artist’s rendition, though.”<
br />
  “A what?”

  “You know, made the design their own. Throughout history, people take something they like and manipulate it. Then the object evolves.”

  “I like it,” The metal of the eye glitters in the light, making me smile, “This sort of reminds me of my own eye.”

  “I get that. Scarred, but still kinda strong,” she says, a mischievous glint in her eye, “Your eye is looking even better than it was yesterday, by the way. It’s not even red anymore. Pretty soon, there will just be scars.”

  Without another word, she takes the eye from me and returns it to the shelf. I wish I could inhale the knowledge through my fingertips, as I flip through the pages of the ancient tome. Perhaps this feeling is why we evolved into using the eLink. There’s so much I’d like to understand, but it would take lifetimes to learn in this manner.

  Fenton continues to stare intensely at the mainframe while Trae paces back and forth behind him. His arms are crossed as he rubs at his lower lip with his thumb, deep in thought.

  I frown and flip the page.

  “Check this out,” Kani sits down next to me with a tiny, black device. The object holds nothing distinguishable until she swipes her fingers across the surface. With a few flicks, lights flicker and moves through a command sequence. Kani smirks, rolling her hand in the air impatiently, “Gotta give it a second. This thing’s a little old.”

  All at once, a tiny dot at the top lights up and she places her face inside a small scanner signal. A moment later, sounds flood from her hand, reminding me instantly of the night I woke up listening to Trae sing. From the corner of my eye, Trae stops moving and stares our direction.

  “We never got introduced to music inside the Helix, and now I’m obsessed,” Kani grins, “Music can be made from just about anything. A person using their voice, the tapping of your fingers, on an instrument—even a device like this,” she tilts the screen to me. Tiny little pictures illuminate the surface. “Of all the devices here in the Archives, I like this one the a lot. It recognizes the user and plays back songs you’ve been most interested in before. Then it will mix and match similar songs. Of course, you can bypass this feature—which I do sometimes. I have a better one at the Haven. The music selection is based off chemical composition instead.”