The Fiercest Craving

by Max Jager

  "Did your father end up impregnating your mother?"

  "Yes, that," said Jaren.

  "Brek made that very clear to me when he recounted his true project."

  "But how in hell could he have known this?" Jaren retorted.

  "It seems that Brek knew both your father and your mother very well," Erand explained.

  "But how could that make any sense?" Jaren interjected. "With Brek being a third year college student, only a few years older than my mother, there's no way he could have known my father."

  "Very perceptive of you, Jaren," Erand agreed. "I must say he didn't know your father personally, but rather through an extensive case file maintained by Ventare's Anthropology Department. Thirsty for knowledge, the University sent the finest in its field to Iltenaan for an extensive ten-year study that culminated with the Raid."

  "I can attest to this," Hathren added. "They indeed showed much interest in my school when it was first established and visited it weekly to record observations. Hoping to learn about the aptitude of our kind in general for learning, they quickly became disappointed and gave up the project altogether."

  "But indeed," continued Erand, "that was not the real reason they came to Iltenaan. As anthropologists, they believed that any species with an intellect even remotely close to that of a human being has the capability of constructing a society that follows a certain order.

  "Needless to say, they were not disappointed. They found an establishment akin to today's Intergalactic Imperial Sovereignty."

  Jaren's eyes widened. "You mean, a dictatorship?"

  "Precisely," said Erand. "And the man, or rather Orc, at the top was none other than your father."

  Book 4: Prologue

  Book IV – Perfection

  Prologue – Nano Era, Year 4 – Serann Dynasty

  1:50 p.m.

  Before Erand could react to the word "die", Brek already had the barrel of a civilian-issue laser gun pointed at his forehead.

  Brek smirked. "Yes, my true project. Something no-one other than I and the man who proposed the project could know about."

  Erand didn't flinch at the gun. "The man who proposed the project?"

  The question incited a hideous cackle from Brek. "Come on Erand, seriously? You need me to spoon feed you all the answers? Here's a little hint, the DNA of said Orc is indeed contained on the database of this lab."

  "Eldrick…" stuttered Erand, mentioning the name of Royale District's Chief of Forensics with whom he had just gotten off the phone with hours earlier. "He lied to me."

  "Bingo! It should go without saying that you finding out about this whole project would not be very convenient for him either as the proposer of this project. Thus, he withheld search results from you as we had agreed."

  "So, anyways, what is this project, how did Eldrick catch on to it, and how did you become involved?" Erand pressed, showing no signs of fluster.

  "Allow me to show you," said Brek, as he pulled a thin, corked test tube out of his shirt pocket. The tube contained a milky-white substance and immediately affirmed Erand's suspicions.

  "I presume that's how you impregnated Cerina."

  "Well you're half right there," jested Brek, reaching again to his shirt pocket and this time clicking a pen. A large refrigeration device behind Erand suddenly began to hiss as pure Carbon Dioxide vaporized out of holes on either side. Its one massive tray retracted outward, and Erand peered inside.

  The front half of the tray housed racks upon racks of test tubes similar to the one Brek held, containing either the same white substance or a clear liquid. Erand surmised the racks contained as many as a thousand tubes. The back half was indeed a gruesome sight to behold. Brown, shriveled embryos at various growth stages occupied sealed glass containers of a variety of sizes.

  Brek answered the look of alarm on Erand's face. "Ah, yes, those are the failures. You see, we thought at first we could do this harmlessly by incubating a fertilized egg and letting it grow on its own with nutrients we provide, but alas that was fruitless."

  "I presume these belonged to Cerina?" Erand spat in a disgusted tone, gesturing to the clear test tubes, within which one could faintly discern a small white dot suspended in the center.

  "Indeed, but you need not worry," Brek assured. "We harvested them quite harmlessly. As for the failures, we started by attempting to feed the embryo a prescribed meal containing a good balance of vitamins and minerals that would promote the healthy growth of a human baby. When that alone proved futile—" Brek pointed to the smallest of the shriveled embryos—"we did some analysis and found that the embryo consumed iron ten times quicker than a normal human embryo."

  Erand subconsciously recalled the autopsy report, which stated that the baby had siphoned blood from Cerina throughout her pregnancy.

  "We assumed right away that it needed blood," Brek continued. "We tried all kinds – rat blood, pig blood, dog blood, even monkey blood. When those didn't work out—" Brek's hand now hovered over slightly larger embryos—"we resorted to human blood of the same type as Cerina's, but alas, none of these came to fruition. As a last resort, we took a sample of Cerina's blood and synthesized a large amount of blood of the exact same genetic makeup."

  Brek motioned in the general direction of the largest specimen – a fetus. By its size, it looked big enough to be born a healthy baby.

  "SIDS took that one from us," he explained. "We had lost our patience. We knew we had no other choice than to use Cerina herself as the host."

  "And how on earth did you manage to convince her to undertake this fatal pregnancy?" Erand demanded.

  Brek chuckled sinisterly. "That, sir, is a longer story."

  B4 Chapter 1

  I

  4:35 p.m.

  Cerina Serann stepped out of the luxury class transport into the humid atmosphere and the paved courtyard of Ventare University. After nodding appreciatively to the chauffeur, she joined the flock of students heading toward the main assembly hall, aptly named Serann Hall, in the center of the campus. Many other students, she noticed, appeared to exit from similar vehicles and hence probably came from well-off families. She barely had a moment to herself before people began to realize her identity. Among the forefront of those rushing to her position was a girl with light brown hair and a similar colored cardigan. Her outfit was completed with a dark brown knee-length skirt and a tie of the same shade of brown on her white dress shirt.

  "So, you're the Emp's daughter, eh?"

  Cerina couldn't help but scoff at the casualness of her tone and the way the girl referred to father, but she kept a civil tongue. "Yes, what of it?"

  "Thought you could waltz in here and get a free ride because your daddy is King of the Universe or something?"

  "No, of course not," Cerina replied curtly.

  "Good, because you actually need brains to get in here now, not just a father with a big wallet."

  "I'm quite aware of my father's legislations and don't need you to remind me of them," Cerina said coldly before turning around and continuing toward the assembly hall. She felt a hand grab her shoulder and forcefully turn her in the other direction again.

  "You want to know what I think of you?" the cardigan girl hissed.

  "Do I ever!" Cerina chirped airily. "Your opinion means the world to me."

  The girl ignored the dry sarcasm. "I think you're nobody without your father, a good-for-nothing brat who gets all the attention because you're a princess. A princess for crying out lou—"

  "That's enough!" boomed a masculine voice.

  Cerina glanced to her left to see a young man wearing a blue blazer emblazoned with the Ventare coat of arms and matching color trousers. He wore a white dress shirt accentuated with a bright red tie.

  "Verbal abuse is not taken lightly here," he said, glaring at the cardigan girl. "You ought to know that by simply filling out a sheet of paper and turning it in to the student judiciary committee, I could have your application to Ventare or any Imperial League school revoked
. So, if you don't want your chances completely nullified before you even take the entrance exams, it would be wise to watch your tongue!"

  The girl responded with a scowl and "hmph" and moved on with the other students toward the hall.

  "At the very least, I can recommend they don't review her application on the grounds of poor social conduct," he added once she was out of earshot. "I'm sorry your first experience here on campus had to be an antagonizing one, Miss Serann."

  "That's alright," said Cerina.

  "I'm Brek Huffington, by the way, soon to be second year Genetics major."

  "Ooh, that's my area of interest!" Cerina said delightedly. "Nice to meet you, Brek."

  "You too. Well, I best be off. I have other Admission Orientation matters to attend to. See you on campus sometime."

  "Given my admission... here," Cerina trailed off, seeing that Brek had already entered a nearby building.

  Cerina continued onward toward Serann Hall only to be halted by students who couldn't conceal their jubilation of walking alongside the daughter of the hall's namesake. A large group of students, evidently all future Political Science majors or Pre-Law, couldn't cease asking what she thought of her father's legislation or what it was like to live under the same roof with the most powerful man in the known universe. She answered their questions as tersely as possible, which satisfied them nonetheless, and the lot of them sat together in Serann Hall, awaiting the address to future applicants from Cain Smith, Ventare's Dean of Admissions. Only a few minutes later, a fairly portly man in a tan-colored suit beseeched the audience's attention.

  "Thank you," Cain started. "Thank you all for expressing your interest in Ventare by choosing our campus for your pre-application orientation and administrator of the Higher Education Aptitude Test."

  Many students, Cerina among them, groaned at what they affectionately referred to as "the heat."

  "Unfortunately," he continued. "only a small percentage of those in this room will be offered a coveted position at our Institute, but please don't let that statement discourage you. I'm confident that every student in this auditorium will turn out to be a grand success in life and give back tremendously to society. Just by giving yourself the goal of attending Ventare or any other school in the Imperial League, you're all deserving of an excellent higher education.

  "Now before you continue with the orientation and take your tests, let me leave you with one last word of advice. When it comes to college, what matters most is what you accomplished during your time there, not the prestige of the school you attended. Now, without further ado, I'll turn it over to Diane, one of our counselors, who'll explain the application process and requirements for Imperial League universities."

  The audience clapped cordially as the Dean of Admissions made his exit from the stage.

  "Well, this is great. I get to spend the next hour having the information I already know reiterated," Cerina sighed, to which the students around her nodded in fervent agreement.

  Much to her displeasure, the mundane description of the application process and requirements for attending Imperial League schools took nearly an hour and a half. Finally, the Student Events Committee took the podium to explain the schedule for the rest of the orientation.

  After the presentation would be dinner and a networking party for students to mingle with other students and faculty in identical or similar areas of study. The exam would commence at eight o' clock the following morning and last approximately four hours. Afterward, prospective students would have the opportunity to interact more as well as partake in a grand ball to be held after dinnertime that day. The orientation would end after breakfast the following day. All the while, students would live in the dormitories at the university and could take advantage of all the facilities available.

  Cerina examined a miniature brown envelope in her orientation packet labeled "Sylpher 448; Roommate: Greta K." Inside, she found a plastic card, which she presumed would grant access to her room.

  "Oh, my gosh, did I seriously get the Cerina Serann? This has to be the best day of my life!" echoed a shrill voice from across the hall.

  Great, another fanatic, Cerina thought as she darted from Serann Hall before her roommate could identify her.

  6:43 p.m.

  Like the vast majority of other students, Cerina enjoyed her sumptuous dinner while reading from a book entitled Stay Cool While Taking the HEAT.

  "For the Calculus portion of the exam, you'll be expected to know that the following expression: 'the limit as h goes to 0 of (f(x + h) - f(x))/h' entails the derivative of the function f(x). If f(x) is just a simple polynomial or trigonometric equation, you'll be able to get the answer right away rather than trying to evaluate the tedious limit."

  Cerina shut the book, deposited her dishes in the dish collection area, and entered the conference room adjoining the cafeteria.

  "Hmm, let's see," she thought aloud. "Modern Bio—ah! There it is."

  She approached a table marked with a sign that read "Modern Biology and Genetics Department" in the back right portion of the gargantuan hall.

  "Brek!" she exclaimed upon seeing the familiar young man in a blue suit and red tie.

  "I'm flattered," Brek replied. "that you remembered my name."

  "Well it is a pretty unusual one," stated Cerina.

  "So how'd you get interested in genetics?" Brek asked casually.

  "I don't really know," Cerina admitted. "I guess a fascination with how humanoids came to be such intelligent organisms, evolving from the most basic micro-organisms."

  "I have to say it was inevitable given that Aezar has proven hospitable to life for billions of years now," Brek offered. "Still, a lot of luck was involved with Aezar's formation as a planet where life in such diversity could thrive for such a long time. The colossal and nearby inhospitable planet Epherion has been crucial to preventing meteors from striking Aezar by distorting their path with its immense gravitational field. But now I'm beginning to stray from my field."

  Cerina glanced at her watch, which now read half past seven.

  "Hey, I appreciate the enlightenment, but I need to settle into my room and continue cramming for the HEAT," she groaned.

  Brek appeared slightly disheartened but smiled nonetheless. He extended his arm slowly toward Cerina's shoulder, in a fashion that clearly illustrated his intent but gave her plenty of opportunity to recoil. She allowed him to make the contact.

  "Don't let me down," he whispered. "Ace that exam and gain acceptance to Ventare."

  Cerina grinned. "With all that public scrutiny, how could I possibly go anywhere else?"

  12:06 p.m.

  Cerina exited from the Chemistry lecture hall where the exam was administered mentally winded. The test, it seemed, had been designed to weed out those who had trouble thinking critically, people who got by on grinding knowledge into their brains through hard work.

  It's almost as if the government is telling us that those kinds of people won't succeed in a demanding profession and are better fit for things like working at factories. The monotony of the job surely wouldn't bore them like it would someone with the intellect to score well on the HEAT, she thought scornfully.

  "Hey," called a shy voice from behind Cerina. She turned around to spot a fairly handsome red-headed male.

  "I, err, had the gall to wonder whether you had a date to the Grand Ball this evening."

  Cerina smirked. Handsome and debonair.

  "I don—" Brek crossed her mind and she stuttered. "err, I mean I do... probably."

  "Probably?" the boy laughed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "I haven't asked him yet."

  The red-head now seemed on the verge of hysterics. "Let me get this straight. You haven't asked him yet?"

  "Yeah, so?" Cerina snapped, not seeing the humor in all this.

  "If a gentleman has any sense of pride, they'll ask a lady to the ball. Not to mention you're probably the most sought-after girl on this campus."

 
; Before she could answer, a familiar voice called her name from the opposite direction. Brek appeared out of breath by the time he had reached her, as he needed to bend over and grab his knees to breathe properly.

  "Cerina," he panted. "Has someone already asked you to the ball?"

  "Yes, sir," she affirmed, to the pleasant surprise of the red-head.

  "Oh," Brek stammered. "I see."

  "But I said no."

  The stricken look of panic on Brek's face faded away with relief.

  "Nice meeting you both," said the red-head, who turned tail and crossed his arms behind his head in hopes of looking cool to other ladies.