The hot fetid wind of the outer city whipped across her face. The grit and dirt from the transports over head stung her cheeks. She tucked her chin down into her chest and sank further into the heavy shadows of the abandoned warehouse.
The outer city was a haven for the refuse and rejected of the new age. People who didn’t fit in with the sterilized society or people who had rejected that life gathered in doorways and abandoned buildings of the past to wring out a harsh existence.
Amandi-Ratio could hear the city transport nearing the drop off point. It touched down and the armed doors slid open slowly. The locals surged toward the transport, pushing and shoving, as ration pouches were thrown out the open door. Like desert scavengers fighting over a dead carcass, they pushed and shoved each other. All though the locals were known to carry weapons, no one dared show one with the armed guards present. The guards were trained to shoot first and think later in this part of the city. Amandi watched from the shadows; still, waiting and watching.
The food gone, the locals began to make themselves scarce. En Mass they were safe, but if a guard decided to focus on an individual, no one could stop him. They were outcasts; no code, no chip, no rights. Their mission done, the guards began to cast their eyes about for some fun. Amandi emerged from the dark, cautiously approaching the transport. “Well, Well, what do we have here. You looking for some rations? Perhaps we have a few, but you’d have to work for them codeless trash.” The guard reached down and grabbed his crotch, a lecherous grin across his face. “Gaia this ones a sweet piece of tail.” The guards took to whistling and making crude gestures at her. She advanced, hesitation showing plainly in her body movements. Allowing some of her fear to show, her hands began to shake.
“Please, help me. I don’t belong here.” She held out her right hand where the stolen code had been inserted a week ago. Her advanced genetics enabled her to heal quickly and without a tell-tale scare. Code theft was punishable by death and, for most, impossible to fake. Amandi wasn’t most people. She was unique. Her genetic code, her dna, was stolen from a government laboratory 25 years ago. Her parents had changed the code to produce the only female homopugnandi. The government had begun research to develop the perfect warrior in 2030. By 2230 they had yielded several thousand advanced males, whose sole purpose was to fight the off world war against the Agitarian race. No females were created and the genetics had been designed to prohibit procreation with homosapiens. The government did not want this advanced race controlling humans.
Her parents had felt differently. Leading scientists for the United Gaia Council, they had crafted the perfect baby girl. They had raised her hidden from the world, until the council found their refuge in the wastelands of Old Siberia. Her parents had died defending their home and the council brought her back as a ward of the council. They did not know what she was; believed to be a human child born outside the system and codeless, they had quarantined her the standard 30 days. Amandi had escaped before they could discover she was not sapien but pugnandi.
Amandi had found the dying debutant in an alleyway several weeks ago. It had taken her a month after breaking out of the laboratory to find a person whose identity she could assume. The coded in the outer limits where mostly the old and broken down of today’s society, but they would not suit her needs.. The young here were almost always codeless. She had been lucky to find a coded young female. Amandi would not take the debutants life, this poor woman had done her no wrong, but once she was gone, the removal of the code from her hand had been easy. She had carefully inserted the coded chip into her hand and the waited for it to heal.
Now, approaching the transport, she projected a docile and submissive image towards the guards, ” Please help me. I do not belong here. I was kidnapped and dumped here when the ransomed was not paid. I need help.”
Holding her hand out before her she paused, “There is a reward I’m sure. My father would see me safely returned.”
The guards mind went from raping an outcast to a payday within a blink of the eye. Leary this was a trick, the guards looked about for others. Seeing none, they waved her towards the transport. The scanner band attached to the lead guard showed green when he held it over her hand. Looking up into his eyes she began to cry, “Please take me home, please.” She collapsed in his arms weeping.
The men, anxious to earn a reward hustled her into their transport and lifted off from the outer limits. “Her name is Harmony Van Helton. Looks like she is who she claims. Rich girl reported missing about a month ago. They didn’t say you were kidnapped. You have a bit of a drug history. You telling the truth?” The guards tone lashed out at her as she laid weeping and shaking on the back seat
“I just wanted a bit of fun, they took me. Maybe my parents didn’t report the whole truth because it would cause a scandal. Please just take me home.” Amandi sobbed and curled into a ball of fear and tears. Shrugging the guards turned their back on her and punched in the coordinates for the Van Helton estate up the coast. This was a pay day best collected in person, without corporate interference. It was best if the company never knew about it, they thought.
Amandi waited until all the guards were in the front, save one left to guard her. “Please sir, do you have a cloth for my face. I…I don’t want my parents to see me like this.” The guard shifted his gun to his left hand as he reached for the cloth in his pocket.
Her neroconnectors were already fired up under her weeping position and in the time it took for him to look down at his pocket she moved silently to his side and snapped his neck. Easing his body gently to the ground, she removed his fire arm and a long jagged blade sheathed along his leg and quietly approached the front of the transport. Swiftly she sliced open two of the guards throats and then leveling the gun on the remaining guard she whispered, “Moriendi ratio – you broke your vow to protect homosapiens. You hurt the codeless. You die”. The blaster took his head off at the shoulders.
She pushed him out of the pilot seat and took the controls in her hand. Heading out towards the ocean, she put the transport into a hover. Throwing open the heavy door she pushed the bodies out to the water below. The ocean creatures would dispose of the evidence.
She had just a few hours before the transport would be missed and thus the guards. She had best set it down and get to researching. The Pugnandi were feared. Charismatic, intelligent and vicious, they could rule Sapiens if allowed to mix freely. She knew there were some that had slipped into the world. She needed to find her kind. But that would take access to technology she could not get while codeless and contacts she did not have. This girls stolen code would soon trip to many alarms to be kept,. What she needed was time.
“Vivendi ratio, moriendi ratio, amandi ratio, pugnandi ratio”. (The reason to live, the reason to die, the reason to love, the reason to fight).
The reason = RATIO
to die = MORIENDI
to love = AMANDI
This is written as a tribute to Richard Morgan – a little bit of Fan Fiction. Its set in a world similar to his Novel “Thirteen” and the Woken Furies book.