Disrupted Reality. (prequell Dominion Series)

PROLOGUE

From your perspective: I’m an alien. Not human. A creature from another world.

More accurately, `You could say I’m a humanoid from another dimension.

I know, hard to get your mind around, but there it is.

The universe is much, much larger than your scientists think. Your perception is misguided. You gaze at the sky and think everything is out there somewhere. Other worlds, maybe even other civilisations, all in the stars.

You should have been looking closer to home.

The universe is not there, it’s right here around you, just in other dimensions.

You lack the comprehension of quantum physics to be able to understand how and why multiple dimensions exit.

Oh, sure, allusions have been made in fantasy stories. Those of you unrestricted by logic or rules have touched on the truth by accident. But you can’t think it through. You give up before you get to the really juicy parts. The Multiverse is not a fantasy dream, it’s reality.

In a way.

In your childish version of multiple dimensions, you imagine them all to be variations of your own. How’s that for a superiority complex.

The truth is harsh.

You are technically way behind all other civilisations, and it shows.

They are not copies of Earth. They are better, and other dimensions do not even see you as their equal.

Not even close.

To my kind, you are insignificant, without value. To me you are a financial opportunity.

Because we wanted to use Earth as our hunting grounds.

You see, the other dimensions need cheap labour. And what is cheaper than slaves. Not much really. It’s a one-time investment, with long term results. Your kind did it, so do other civilisations. Slavery is a truly multi-verse concept. And a lucrative one.

And that is where my family comes in.

We’re slavers.

…Or, rather, they are. I’m not anymore.

How did I get to this point?

That’s a long story. One I am happy to tell you.

But first…you need more background and some context.

Here it comes.

Buckle up. It’s not pretty.

CHAPTER ONE

There was blood everywhere.

Bright red mostly, but here and there a splash of purple.

This raid was not going well.

The humans were much more resilient than they had expected. The initial surprise attack in the middle of the night had given the Taxorians an advantage, but the humans quickly rallied behind their leader and regrouped much earlier than Cal-Tan had envisioned.

His sword found human flesh and he pushed the blade home, cringing at yet another asset loss.

They were in the Twelfth dimension to gather slaves; every dead human was a pointless cost. One product less to sell back home.

Cal-Tan pulled his sword out of the body and wiped his brow with the sleeve of his tunic. There was a short lull in the fighting, and he observed the status of the raid.

Not good.

He counted at least seven dead humans, all men, all in perfect condition before the fight. Shit, prime products. Two of his own kind lay bleeding on the ground, one motionless, the other screaming as his companion tried to pull a spear from his shoulder.

Cal-Tan expanded his view to see Arand locked in battle with two humans. He could see his partner--and friend--was attempting to subdue the humans without damaging them too much. It wasn’t working. He had to increase his prowess and the humans quickly lay bleeding on the hard ground, damaged beyond repair.

Cal-Tan locked eyes with Arand and recognised the same sentiment, Bad raid.

A scream broke their unspoken contact and their heads swivelled to where their third companion lay on the dusty ground, his arm raised up in defence. A large human stood over him, his spear poised to pierce Jainik’s chest where the human thought his heart would be.

Cal-Tan and Arand sprung into motion and fought their way through a ring of defenders surrounding the large human. A piercing scream alerted them they were too late. The human had plunged his spear down, pinning their friend to the floor. He then twisted the big weapon. Its wicked barbs shredded Jainik’s skin and muscle.

The human was thrown backwards as Arand’s sword punctured his sternum. The force of the throw was filled with anger at his friend’s life-threatening wounds.

With the death of their leader, the other humans retreated and tried to escape from their primitive village into the neighbouring corn fields. A fierce wall of fire stopped them, the smoke of the burning crops assailing their eyes and throats.

Cal-Tan screamed his war cry and ran into the fleeing melee, his sword cutting down humans indiscriminately. He didn’t care about the product anymore; this had become personal.

Moments later Arand called to him, finally breaking through the all-encompassing blood lust. Cal-Tan turned to see Arand on his knees beside Jainik. His anger dissipated and he rushed to their side, calling to his soldiers to round up the surviving humans, without hurting them more than necessary.

He knelt beside his wounded friend and observed the damage. It was bad. Jainik’s face was unnaturally pale, the result of the sickly expanding purple pool of blood he lay in. Cal-Tan took his hand, it felt cold, dead. He looked up at Arand who slowly shook his head.

The spear had cleaved one of Jainik’s hearts and the barbs subsequently annihilated any organs in the close vicinity. Even with his second heart intact and undamaged, the measure of his wounds was too extensive for him to have a chance of surviving. His life seeped out of him as he continued to bleed out of the many wounds.

There was no medic in the team. The raiding party hadn’t anticipated this level of resistance. Their egos refused to let them contemplate defeat, or even defiance from such a backward species as humans. The Taxorian superiority was thought to be absolute. Minor wounds incurred in the Twelfth dimension always healed quickly and medical assistance had never been needed before. But now, Jainik’s existence was quickly fading away because of their arrogance.

‘Get him out of here,’ Arand shouted.

‘Inform the hub we are coming,’ Cal-Tan replied as he pulled Jainik up off the ground and simultaneously turned the dial on an elaborate amulet he wore around his neck. The air blurred and the contours of the two Taxorians disappeared, leaving no more than a hazy mist behind on a blood-soaked field.

‘Get the stretcher here! NOW!’ Cal-Tan shouted as soon as his form solidified.

The transportation hub was a hive of activity with technicians, security and medical personnel. Doctors pushed a hovering stretcher towards the bright portal circle and the two people who had materialised inside the pulsating air bubble.

Blood dripped in a steady stream from Jainik’s still form onto the polished floor, the bright purple indicated it was arterial blood. The worst. He was bleeding out.

Two blue clad medical technicians took Jainik from Cal-Tan’s blood-soaked arms and laid him carefully on the stark white stretcher.

They hastily left the hub closely followed by Cal-Tan.

Jainik was as close to a friend as Cal-Tan had. They had known each other since they were small children. They’d fought off bullies together and developed their own status within the competitive world of pirates, side-by-side. Cal-Tan could always count on Jainik, even more than with Arand, who had joined their small collective much later. Together they had been invincible, or so they thought.

Cal-Tan pushed his way into the operating theatre and stood with his back to the wall watching the doctors do their best to help Jainik. The machines were hooked up and even his medically uneducated mind could see the readings were bad. Bad and worsening. A sharp whine indicated there were no heart beats. Jainik’s second heart had given up. There was no blood left in his body to keep it going.

Cal-Tan observed the doctors try to resuscitate his best friend. It was impossible. The damage of the wounds was irreversible. This was a dead end.

Cal-Tan turned from his perch against the wall and pushed his way out of the room in disgust. What would come now would be a challenge.

Next step for Jainik: Reincarnation.

And that was a bitch.

Reincarnation was the procedure used on the terminally ill in Taxore to transfer their life essence to a new body.

Initially the bodies had been simple standard designs, created as the vessel for the essence. But in time the scientists discovered that tailoring a body to fit the essence had a much better chance of being adopted.

Using the subject’s original DNA to force-grow a new body was the most preferable scenario. But it had its drawbacks, the essence would have to be stored for the duration of the growth. That could easily be months, depending on whether a pre-growth had already been commissioned.

Most of the warriors and the wealthy had pre-grown bodies on ice. These had been built to their DNA specifications--minus any defects--and lay in waiting until they were needed.

It was expensive, but especially in the case of warriors, it was a good insurance.

There was a catch: an essence in limbo deteriorated. How much and in which areas would only become clear once the whole reincarnation process was completed.

Another danger for warriors was an incomplete essence. If it had not been harvested at the exact moment of death, the essence could split into multiple components. Collecting them all and rebuilding the complete essence to its previous self was near enough impossible.

That was where the amulets came in. Not only were they functionally the portal for transportation, but they also registered the body’s vitals. An alarm was triggered as soon as death was imminent. This alerted the transportation hub that initiated the disaster process catching the essence as it left the body.

The moment Jainik had been mortally wounded had been recorded and signals had been sent to the home dimension implementing the protocol. If Jainik had a pre-growth, it would already have been tagged for resuscitation before he reformed in the transportation hub. The process of activating the new body was well under way, shortening the time the essence would be in limbo. The whole process could be handled in a matter of days if things went well.

If—that is—Jainik had a pre-growth.

If not, then it would take a lot longer with potentially more extensive and lasting impact.

‘How is he?’ Arand asked as he walked through the door into the office.

Cal-Tan looked up.

‘Gone,’ he answered coldly.

‘Shit.’

Arand pulled up a chair and joined Cal-Tan at the table desk. He accepted the glass of green liquid Cal-Tan pushed his way.

‘Did he have a pre-growth?’

Cal-Tan shrugged. ‘Sort of. But it’s not outgrown yet. He only commissioned it three months ago.’

‘When we discovered the Twelfth?’

‘Yes. I guess he didn’t have the finances before then.’

Arand nodded, deep in thought as he sipped the fermented nastna juice.

‘What’s the harvest?’ Cal-Tan finally broke the silence.

Arand pushed a flute towards him. ‘It’s all on there.’

The flute was slotted into the computer and a hologram appeared between the two men. Cal-Tan scanned the documents and let out a big sigh as he sat back against his seat.

‘Yeah,’ Arand agreed, his brow creased in worry.

‘Seven assets. Two of ours wounded, one deceased.’ Cal-Tan summarised.

‘And even those seven are not good quality.’ Arand added. ‘I don’t expect them all to survive transportation.’

‘When are they scheduled?’

‘As we speak.’

The raid had been catastrophic. Cal-Tan was not looking forward to reporting to his father.

The old man had clearly stated his doubts at his eldest son’s endeavour. The Twelfth was a newly discovered dimension. It was still unknown. Any potential was too early to seriously contemplate for Cal-Tan’s pirate father. These results would only play into his reservations. It had been an uphill battle as it was to get the old man to back this raid. Any future with the Twelfth was now on very thin ice.

But still, Cal-Tan was certain of its potential. There was an endless supply of labour in the Twelfth. Millions of humans over the globe just waiting to be harvested.

Of course, there were challenges.

Transportation wreaked havoc on the fragile human physique. Forty percent didn’t survive the move and those that did were impacted and needed time to recuperate. All that was expensive.

As yet, the Twelfth was not a viable business option. But with the right attention it could be the gold mine they desperately needed.

There had never been a larger demand for slaves than now. Cal-Tan’s family seriously needed a new supply, or they would lose their leading position in the supply chain.

The pressure on his shoulders as leader of the family, sent his father into an even greater state of stress. The man was obnoxious to start with. Now he was downright dangerous.

Even to his family.

No. Especially to his family.

Cal-Tan’s father was a psychopath. A killer in the depths of every cell in his body, anything as inconsequential as family ties would not stop him from handing out quick and ruthless punishment.

Not for the first time, Cal-Tan contemplated his father’s premature death.

It had merit, but also challenges. He would have to make sure there were no pre-growths and that his father’s essence was not captured.

And he would have to be very careful. Despite his violent nature—or maybe because of that—there were few who would oppose Cal-Tan’s father. At least not openly. Cal-Tan could not expect anyone to assist him in this venture.

Arand observed his friend closely, noticing the red blush of rage that slowly crept up Cal-Tan’s face. He too had a temper. One he usually kept in check, but occasionally—like in the raid—it broke out of control and unleashed a violence that rivalled his father’s.

‘Calm your anger,’ he urged Cal-Tan. The latter locked eyes with him so fiercely, he almost forced Arand backwards. But he kept his ground, staring back.

’Impromptu actions will not benefit you in the long run.’ He added calmly.

Slowly the rage subsided and Arand saw his friend return to sanity.

He sighed. ‘You’re right.’

‘We need to plan,’ Cal-Tan stated resolutely.

‘You still believe in the Twelfth?’

‘I do. Though my father doesn’t. So, I will have to find a way to convince him.’

‘The odds are not favourable as a business case.’

‘No, which means we will have to think of a way to improve them.’