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Authors: Karen Harris Tully

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BOOK: The Faarian Chronicles: Exile
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“That is the reason Afflicted persons are not allowed in the
domed cities, in case they have stopped taking their medication and come
across… a naturalist.” She motioned politely to the host.

“You mean a Brown-Hair,” the host replied with a grin,
running a hand through her own gleaming chestnut locks.

The doctor laughed. “Just so. So, Afflicted people pose no
threat to the general public whatsoever. The vision of the Afflicted running
around attacking people is preposterous.”

I snorted. Yeah right. Preposterous. Except this doctor
seemed really well-liked and respected. Could everyone be right? That they
weren’t really a threat, except to me and non-chlorophyllated people?

The door opened and Micha strolled in. She sat down beside
me on the floor on her haunches and rested her huge head on my lap. I stayed
perfectly still, not knowing what to do. The thought kept running through my
head that she could probably amputate my leg with one bite.

You could hurt me with your
weapons, girl-child, but you won’t.
The thought entered my head along
with a reassuring purr. I tried to refocus on the holo-show in front of me.

“So, you’re saying that they’re no more likely to be
murderers than anyone else out there,” the host continued.

“Precisely. We can’t allow ancient myths and misconceptions
about this disease to split us apart. We’ve only got one world and we all have
to live in it together. The Foundation is doing all it can to find a cure for
the Afflicted, but in the meantime, everyone needs to know the truth.”

I hesitantly put my hand on Micha’s head and began to
timidly finger comb her coarse ruff as I listened. Micha started to purr, and
then her muscles relaxed all at once as she, with a great huff, became a big,
flabby puddle of fur. Geez, her head was freakin’ heavy! She chuckled at me.

“First, the affliction is a rare symbiotic brain imbalance.
It is not contagious from person-to-person contact. You can be close with an
Afflicted person, breathe the same air, eat off the same dishes, kiss, do more
than kiss,” she winked and the audience laughed again, “without worry.
Afflicted people can do everything anyone else does: work, go to school, play
sports, and anything else, all with perfect safety.

“Second, there are effective treatments available. If the
disease is diagnosed early enough, there is no reason for the person to suffer
any of the symptoms commonly associated with the affliction. The facial
scarring, the mismatched eyes, the odd cravings, none of these are necessary.
So, if you or anyone you know starts to exhibit any of the following symptoms
after conversion, go see a doctor immediately: fever, nausea from everyday
foods, aversion to vegetables, cravings for raw or bloody meat, or changes in
eyesight. These are all symptoms that should not be ignored.”

After conversion? What sort of conversion had he done that
had made him go all chompy chompy?

“And third, if you are diagnosed with the affliction, take
your medication as directed. We at The Foundation have worked tirelessly to
make sure that this disease is entirely treatable. No one needs suffer from
it.”

So, I ran into a bad apple who was off his meds and thought
my dyed hair meant I was worth a shot? Well, at least I knew a little more
about what to look out for now. But that didn’t mean I was gonna go find any
vampires and cozy up to them, wink-wink. I’d rather hurl.

“Dr. Souchie, thank you so much for coming. I wish we had
more time,” the host said, wrapping up the interview. “Dr. Nereus Souchie,
everyone. The book is
What’s a Little Blood Among Friends?
Get your copy
on your link today.” The show faded out to applause and theme music.

“Are you tired of your drab, ordinary life?”
The now
familiar “be all that you can be,” fix-your-life-instantly-with-some-medical-procedure,
too-good-to-be-true commercial came on next and I turned it off. I swear, every
time I tried to find info on anything, that same commercial came on. Plastic
surgery for your brain or something.

As soon as I closed BLIN, a couple of emails popped up. The
first was from the Office of Interplanetary Relations, showing my last email to
Dad had been so redacted that it barely made sense with all the black-outs,
with no mention of the vampires at all. Sheesh, this email system was crap.

The second one was Dad’s response:

 

Sunny, I will do my best to work out a compromise
with your mother, but you cannot run away! I’m not sure what you were trying to
tell me about it not being safe there, but you don’t know the people, the
planet, the environment, the customs, or the laws. You could get into all sorts
of dangerous situations that neither of us can imagine, that you have no way to
prepare for.

I snorted to
myself. Or, you know, be eaten by vampires. Anakharu. Rogue Afflicted.
Whatever.

No matter how mad you are at your mother, it could
be a lot worse. We’ll work something out, but you have to stay there. Please!
Email me back right away and promise before you give your old man a heart
attack!

Dad

 

I sighed and hit ‘reply’, promising Dad that no, I wouldn’t
run away now, and breaking the news about Mom’s arrest. I told him what I knew
and that I’d keep them posted, but didn’t know what else to say. My mother was
arrested for killing someone to protect me (no need to try mentioning vampires
again), and it was all my fault. What else was there to say? I didn’t know if
Dad would try to bring me home now, but even if he did, I couldn’t go.

Why not? I asked myself. Didn’t I want to leave this crazy
place and go home still, now more than ever?

A voice in the back of my head whispered the answer: Your
mother tackled a vampire out of a second-story window for you. Don’t you think
maybe that means she really does care?

I groaned.

Some people aren’t good at expressing their feelings, you
know.

Well, duh. Ya think? I sighed and reviewed what I knew about
my own mother. One: she dragged me here without even bothering to ask or care
what I wanted. Two: in the short time I’d been here, before she got arrested,
all we did was fight. Three: she didn’t even make an effort to get to know me,
and she preferred giving orders to having an actual two-way conversation.

She is a General, after all, and obviously more used to that
than being a mom.

Okay, so her people respected her. Heck most of them
followed whatever she said without question. The only people I saw argue with
her were me and Great-Aunt Nico, and did I really want to lump myself in with
crazy Great-Aunt Nico?

Four: she was paranoid. She didn’t seem to trust anyone
outside the Kindred, not even the news. She got her “news” from an underground,
conspiracy-theorist website for crying out loud!

She’s responsible for the safety of a lot of people.
Wouldn’t that make you paranoid?
my little
voice asked.

Yeah. And she always put
them
first. I scraped my
fingers through my hair and pulled, the slight pain making my throbbing head
feel somehow better.

Was that the real problem?

She sure didn’t put herself first. The woman was always
working, either out in the field or in her office, and barely took time to eat
and sleep. Her apartment showed that she didn’t have a personal life, or even
any real friends, beyond Micha.

What, was I feeling sorry for her now? I snorted quietly at
myself. She was in jail, so yeah. And wouldn’t she just
hate
for anyone
to feel sorry for her? But the point was, she did what needed to be done
without complaint, and she led by example, and all those other things a good
leader does. And when it came right down to it, she dove out a window for me.
Was arrested for me. How much more could I ask?

Gymnastics…. Yeah. Gymnastics. I wasn’t okay with that. But
maybe… maybe I could be okay with her.

I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and came back to
find Micha flopped out on my bed, belly exposed and snoring. I was starting to
like Micha, but not
that
much.

And shoot! I was supposed to ask her about that Anakharu
being alive in the casket. I shook her shoulder, but she only lifted her head
and gave a sleepy snarl, eyes still closed, a clear “don’t bug me, I’m
sleeping” response. She snorted, rolled over, snuffled her face into my pillow,
and resumed snoring. Oh well, I guess it could wait till morning.

I tugged at the quilt I’d brought with me from my old room,
gently at first, a corner of it stuck under Micha’s girth. She didn’t respond.
I pulled hard, and when one last great tug sent me sprawling on the floor with
my prize, I found out why it reminded me of home. A hand-stitched label on the
lower back corner stared up at me.

Stitched with love for my new daughter-in-law,
Vaeda. Love, Ellie Price.

Ellie Price, Dad’s mom, who’d died the year before I was
born. Mom had given me Grandma’s quilt.

I wrapped it around myself and missed home, and my mother,
and everything I still didn’t know or understand about her, all at the same
time.

Chapter 28: Dreams and Nightmares

Attempting to sleep in the chair sucked. I slept even worse
than the night before, waking over and over from several bad dreams. The first
was of
him
as if he was getting in the last word on his own death. The
creepiest part was that I seemed to be seeing the story through his eyes, in
the blurred-around-the-edges night vision of a dead vampire.

I saw her first,
he
thought petulantly as he scaled the wall to the Brown-Hair’s room - my room.
His fingertips suctioned to and released the brick without even having to think
about it, making climbing easy. For a moment he marveled to himself over his
new-found abilities as a Rogue, wondering why he hadn’t gone off his meds
earlier, before returning to his immediate goal.

I just want a little taste. I
never get any of the good stuff back in that place, only cloned or animal blood
– Yech! Research hospital, hah! More like research prison. The fact that more
of us haven’t tried to escape is ridiculous. Afflicted have rights too, you
know! At least that’s what the law says. In reality, it’s all crap. Don’t do
this, you can’t do that. And don’t even
think
about trying to enter Glass City. Ha! We’ll see about
that.

He reached my open window without being spotted, and looked
in to see me sleeping fitfully. He yanked the screen off and tossed it over his
shoulder, climbing inside. And then I saw the whole fight through his eyes.
When my mother appeared, his vision of her was frightening. The mutant General
Telal-ursu herself, her orange, cat-like eyes glowing in the dark room as she
tackled him right out the window.

That was completely
unnecessary!
he thought.
I hadn’t even
done anything to the girl – yet – and it wasn’t like I was planning on killing
her! I was just going to help myself to a little of her sweet smelling blood,
knock her out, and deliver her to Glass City. I had it all figured out. She’d
be a good little girl and play my “escort” along the way, and I’d promise to
let her go when we got there. I wouldn’t have, but I wasn’t going to kill her.
Probably. That wasn’t part of the plan, anyway. And now General Freak had to
come along and ruin it all.

She landed on top of him, crushing his skull into a rock -
which hurt worse than conversion had – hard enough that he immediately entered
stasis. She got up, proceeded to prod his limp, broken body with the toe of her
boot, and cursed.

The next thing he knew he was in a white marble coffin,
reserved for martyrs that the Afflicted rights people wanted to show off.

Wait a minute here, I’m not
dead yet!
he screamed internally.
Give me
a few days and I’ll be up and around again, good as new. Open the box!
He tried to rouse his resting body long enough to move and let someone know he
was still alive, but couldn’t even do that much.

What the…? I should be able
to wake up if I have to. Someone immobilized me. I probably looked fully dead,
he realized with growing horror.
Her. I never
should have trusted her. She’s going to kill me.
He heard loud growling
outside and felt the coffin jump and shudder.
Oh
no. If that thing doesn’t get to me first.
Ahatu were so touchy, and
this one was really mad. She could tell he wasn’t dead yet and wanted to kill
him herself.

No, don’t open the box!
As the coffin lid opened, he expected to feel large teeth wrapping around his
throat and tearing it out. That’s a difficult one to recover from. But instead,
he only felt a tiny needle prick to his neck and then… nothing.

I woke up with a jerk and frantically checked that I could
move and was
me
again. Just a dream, just a dream, I thought. A whacked
out nightmare for sure, but just a dream.

It took me a while, but I finally dropped back off to sleep.
The next dream featured not one, but two vampires – women this time, thanks no
doubt to Lyta and Otrere telling me that a male Anakharu was rare – planning to
kidnap me and use me for research. I struggled against the dream’s fear
paralysis as I heard their clinically cold thoughts getting closer and closer.
Soon, they said. It would be soon.

Micha left at dawn. I could have gone back to my bed, but
despite still being tired, I decided there was no point in trying to sleep any
longer. Teague and Sarosh woke to find me curled grumpily in an uncomfortable
chair in the living room, wrapped in my grandmother’s quilt.

“Couldn’t sleep, huh?” Sarosh asked.

“Mmph no,” I grunted groggily and made my way to the
bathroom, hoping a shower would wake me up. I returned to the living room in
slightly better spirits, but opened the door to find Teague and Sarosh deep in
conversation about my mother.

“But, without her giving memory evidence,” Sarosh was saying
with a worried look, and stopped talking the minute I entered the room. She
immediately went back to reading something on her link.

“Oh, come on!” I exclaimed in exasperation. “Look, why don’t
you just tell me what’s going on? Then you won’t have to stop talking every
time I walk in the room.” They only stared at me, pretending they didn’t know
what I was talking about. “I know my mother’s been arrested for accidentally
killing that vampire – Anakharu, Afflicted, whatever. And that she should have
been back yesterday. They’re still just questioning her, right? I mean, how
long can they hold her?”

Teague snorted darkly. “What do you know about it?”

She was right. I was using my basic knowledge of the
American legal system. I had no idea how it worked here.

“So explain it to me! She was arrested for trying to help
me, because she thought I was too weak to do it myself! And so it’s my fault
that she’s being questioned for murder!”

“Tried,” Sarosh corrected quietly. “She’s being tried for
murder.”

“Sarosh!” Teague chastised, but I was reeling from the news
that she was actually on trial.

“What? The girl deserves to know the truth. This whole mess
is because everyone was trying so hard not to say the wrong thing that no one
explained reality to her.”

“No one knew she would attract them,” Teague argued.

“No, but we know now, and keeping her in the dark isn’t
going to help anything.”

“Hey!” I interrupted their arguing, “I’m standing right
here. Talk to
me.

Teague sighed, then motioned at Sarosh to go ahead.

"Okay Sunny, let’s start with you telling us what you
know,” she said.

“I know that a vampire chased me, then later climbed in my
window while I was asleep and attacked me. I almost had him, but my mother
tackled him out the window where he hit his head on a rock and died.” Should I
mention that in my dream he was only in stasis? “And really, the guy was about
to kill me, so are we supposed to feel sorry for him? I don’t think so.” They
didn’t comment.

“Anyway, then she was arrested. Oh, and after they went out
the window, the whole thing was caught on video and Alten sent in the footage
to prove Mom’s innocence. She said she would be back yesterday evening, but…
she’s not.”

“I think she thought they’d question her and that would be
it,” Sarosh said.

“But instead they’re going to try her for murder,” I said.
She nodded. “How long till her trial? Can I go testify for her? Would it help?”

If possible, Teague frowned even more and Sarosh gave a
little shudder. “No, you can’t testify, at least not in the one way that could
help. Your mother would never allow it. Besides,” Sarosh’s expression turned to
pity for me, “her trial is taking place soon, today.”

“Today? What do you mean she’s on trial
today?
” I
demanded. “How could it happen so fast?” I’d been worried she would be in jail
awaiting trial for months, but this – this was way worse. “How can they
possibly have all the evidence already? And why aren’t we there for her? I’m
her daughter. I should be there!”

“Not when the General ordered you to stay here with us,”
Teague growled.

Sarosh looked at me with sympathy. “Alten said you’d insist
on being there, so she told us not to tell you until it was too late to get
there.” She looked away, as if there were something else she wanted to say, but
decided not to. “Anyway, Alten and some of the others are there in the
audience, but there’s not much anyone can do,” Sarosh said. “She did send the
security video ahead to the justices, but only one type of evidence matters to
their kind.”

“Their kind? Wait, so she’s in
vampire
court?
Anakharu court?” I asked.

“No, the court’s for everyone, but it’s run by Molinidae
now.”

Teague’s gaze hardened. “The Molinidae have been taking over
for years, Sunny. Slowly. Sneakily.”

I knew that people here weren’t fond of the Molinidae, but
the anger in her voice surprised me. Surely John and his family weren’t
included in that.

“A lot of Faarians don’t want to believe that anything is
wrong, that we’re not still equals in running the planet and the justice
system. The Mols make incremental changes and no one notices, but if you look
at it as a whole, you can see the power grab. They also make up the vast
majority of scientists and tech experts, and they’re at the forefront of the
Afflicted rights movement.”

“And all Anakharu are Molinidae,” I said, remembering what
John had said.

“Yes,” Sarosh nodded. “Anyway, we’ll be watching the trial
from here.”

Watch from here? They just wanted to watch my mother’s
trial on TV?

Sarosh set her link next to the wall across the room and
explained the basics of the Molinidae justice system.

“They have a method of extracting memory testimony from the
people involved in any incident. Then they show it as a hologram in the
courtroom and the justices – there are three - make a ruling. They say there’s
no way to fake a memory, and it makes the court process much faster.”

“But, it’s invasive and painful to Faarians,” Teague added.

“Not like they care,” Sarosh said. “They’re demanding her
memory.”

Oh God, I envisioned them sucking her blood and spitting it
into some machine that then projected her memory.

“The General has been arguing that it’s not necessary if
they’ll only watch the video, but they’re so dependent on their “fool-proof”
memory testimony that they’re claiming that her refusal is proof of her guilt.
I’m not sure if your mother has the clout to get them to watch the video.
They’ll insist on seeing her memory of the event.”

“And she’ll refuse,” Teague injected.

“Well, what’s the evidence against her?” I asked. “I mean,
the dead guy can’t exactly testify.”

“He already has, Sunny.”

“What? How?”

“Their kind are able to project their thoughts to
communicate telepathically with each other. Before he died, he apparently sent
his version of events to someone and that memory was submitted to the court. Without
your mother’s testimony in the same way, they’re unlikely to believe her.”

“You don’t think she stands a chance, do you?” I accused
them.

They exchanged a look. “I don’t know, Sunny. I just don’t
know,” Sarosh answered.

“Then she’ll have to testify their way,” I said.

“You don’t know your mother very well, do you?” Teague
asked. “The General is a very stubborn woman.”

“Usually it’s a good trait.” Sarosh smiled wryly.

“The real problem is that your mother’s not known for her
sympathy toward the Anakharu - er, the Afflicted,” Teague corrected herself.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“They think she’s prejudiced,” Teague answered.

“Uh, they’re
vampires.
Who wouldn’t be?”

Sarosh shook her head. “You can’t talk like that, Sunny. Not
with this Afflicted equality movement that’s going on. People feel sorry for
them, like they have a disease, and as long as they stay on their meds, and out
of Glass City, they can control themselves. Look at what’s happening to your
mother. Talk like that will get you in trouble, especially since you’re
apparently going to have to protect yourself from them. No one else around here
has to worry about that.

“Live coverage of the Vaeda Katje trial,” Sarosh ordered her
link, “half size.” A holographic image of a large room sprang up against the
wall with an annoyingly perky reporter in front. Rich, Glass City protestors
held signs that proclaimed, Vaeda Katje: Afflicted Killer.

“It’s only an hour until the start of the trial of General
Vaeda Katje for the murder of the Afflicted man known as Drazen. In a bizarre
turn of events,” the reporter said gleefully, “General Katje is reportedly
refusing to give memory testimony in her own defense. We can only speculate
what that will mean for her case, but-”

“Remove reporter,” Teague ordered. The reporter vanished,
leaving us to watch the courtroom without commentary. I spotted Micha at the
back of the room, sitting quietly with a large swath of empty space around her
that the growing crowd seemed loath to enter. So that was where she’d disappeared
to this morning. The other Kindred members, including Alten with her big belly,
Great-Aunt Nico, Ethem, and Penthe, were a patch of beige in the sea of bright,
sparkly colors making up the Glass City audience. With them, looking grim, was
Sensei. I cringed. She must be so disappointed in me. Mom was nowhere to be
seen yet.

I had to get out of here. I had to think.

“I’m going to go work out for a while before they start,
clear my head,” I said.

“No going off alone, Sunny. You can do your exercises in the
hallway, but no farther without coming to get one of us,” Teague said.

“Fine,” I huffed, though I wanted to go down to the train
station to be alone. Sarosh planted herself in the doorway to watch me.

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