Scout Page 3

  “It’s all about perspective, I guess.”

  Hunter touched on something I’d never dared put into words.

  “The ultimate good on our world is the destruction of others,” I said. “Humans would call that evil.”

  Hunter turned in a pirouette, changing back to the redhead, Raquel. “Not all humans.” He paused, batting green eyes at me. “What do you think? Are we evil, or good?”

  I glanced away. He was definitely trying to manipulate me. “There’s no way to answer that. It’s all relative.”

  “Is it?”

  “Without some kind of outside determination, yes.”

  “What does your heart tell you? After all these years with humanity, what is right, and what is wrong?”

  He had no idea the nights I’d pondered that very question. Never before, on any other world, had I thought what I did for Master could be labeled as wrong or evil.

  I fought against the words that surged inside me—against the desire to finally speak. To confess to the horror I had become—the horror I had always been.

  “What was all that talk about a soul?”

  He smiled. “You’re changing the subject.”

  “Am I?”

  “Don’t you see?” He motioned toward the robot. “You couldn’t transfer my consciousness into your little friend here.”

  “I know. I’ve been having issues.”

  “With humans. But as you can see…” The redhead’s face shifted for a moment to Hunter’s. “I’m not human.”

  He was right, of course. There was nothing substantively different between the makeup of the robot on the table and Hunter. Both consisted of billions of microscopic nano-bots, all working together as a unit. “So you think you’ve somehow acquired a soul while hanging out on this planet?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know what to think. But something has changed. Our whole civilization, back to before we transitioned to these bodies, has been about expansion at any cost. Taking what we need from those who are too weak to keep it. This is our right. There is no purer motivation.”

  “But now you question that very foundation?”

  He nodded. “I think you do too.”

  Before I came to this world, it would have been impossible for me to even contemplate such a thought, but I would deny it no longer. “My heart says we are wholly evil. That the blood we’ve poured out over the vast reaches of the universe brands us as completely irredeemable and devoid of anything good.”

  That was what haunted me. The blessing of immortality was nothing more than a curse. For all eternity, I would be haunted by the intimate knowledge of my own evil.

  Hunter smiled.

  “You find this humorous? What kind of sick game are you playing?”

  “Don’t you see? How could we agree? You and I are pinnacles of evolution—the ultimate survivors. Are we just getting soft in our old age?”

  “We’ve been old for a very long time.”

  Hunter nodded. “So, you and I reach the same conclusion at the same time, after all these lifetimes? No, there’s something about this world...”

  “Something worth saving.” I said the words I’d never dared think. It was treason.

  “Something worth dying for.”

  “I’ve wanted nothing more than to die for millennia.” I spit the words out.

  “As have I, but what nobility can be found in a death without meaning?” He glanced at the robot on the table.

  I closed my eyes, feeling the immense weight of years heaped upon me, crushing the air from my lungs. “But this life... What kind of life is this?”

  He placed his hand on my arm. “You can’t truly live until you find something worth dying for.”

  My breath caught in my chest as I looked into his eyes, Raquel’s eyes. “The only worthy death is one granted after a job well done.” How hollow my words sounded.

  “How much greater would be a life laid down for those who cannot save themselves. How wretched are these humans. How desperately in need of someone to champion their cause.”

  Something built within me that hadn’t existed since Master had first commissioned me as Scout. Something I hadn’t thought I’d ever feel again: a sense of purpose.

  “So, what do we do? Humanity is so weak. It could take ten thousand years to make them strong enough to resist the empire.”

  “Our hope isn’t in strength, but in weakness.”

  Hunter saw the puzzled expression on my face.

  “If we convinced the Muradine of Earth’s insignificance, of how utterly embarrassing it would be to conquer—”

  “Then they would never invade.”

  “Precisely.”

  An excitement surged through me. “I’ll prepare my report.” I spun around, heading for the terminal. “Master—”

  The lights went out, bathing the lab in darkness.

  “Master is displeased with you.”

  It was a voice I’d truly hoped to never hear again.

  A pale green glow filled the far end of the lab, and a form shimmered into being. A terrible black and silver figure glowed with a slick green sheen. “You have been a bad boy, Scout.”

  I dropped to my knees. “No, I—”

  A blur to my left cut me off. Even as Hunter lunged past, his shape changed from the frail redhead to a beast meant for one purpose: killing. Limbs elongated into blades two meters long. Muscles rippled along his back legs as he charged forward, driving his weapons toward the center of the shadowy form. That he would dare attack a member of the royal family—

  The shadow coalesced into a humanoid shape and stepped aside. Hunter crashed into the wall behind. In a flash of green light, Master spun and placed her hand on the back of his head. Light coursed down Master’s arm and Hunter exploded into a cloud of dust. The tiny nanite cells ripped apart and scattered across the floor.

  Master turned to me, her face still in shadow, her body changing every moment, from humanoid, to a creature with several heads and appendages, to a formless blob. I couldn’t focus on her.

  “I failed you.” This would be my undoing.

  “This world is not ready?”

  I imagined the joy she would take in punishing me and shook my head. “They may never be an opponent worthy of the Muradine.”

  Her ever-changing form moved toward me.

  Somehow I had to make her leave and never come back. “Do with me what you will. It’s impossible—”

  “Enough.” Her voice rumbled through the room. Slowly she undulated along the floor. “You have been a valuable scout, but I would be weak if I allowed you to continue living.”

  The words I had longed to hear, had yearned for all these millennia, smote me over the head.

  “Your work here has been nothing short of pathetic. You are useless to me, and the end has come.” Towering over me, she slowly snaked a blob of mechanical flesh toward me, the tip coming to rest under my chin.

  “As much as it pains me, stand and receive your reward. I suppose you have served me well on other worlds.” Her appendage slithered around my neck and lifted me to my feet.

  “Goodbye, Scout.” Her tentacle squeezed, and my mind went black.

  * * *

  Intense heat awoke me from darkness. I pushed into my cells, which filled a shallow depression in the ground, and formed myself into the shape I now felt most comfortable in. Standing upon two shaky legs I breathed deep the moist air. I smiled. This should have been her most heinous punishment, promising death at last but instead casting me onto some newly made world to begin my eons-long struggle once more.

  In that, she had misjudged.

  No longer would I be dedicated to building a world she would one day deem worthy of conquest. I had a new purpose—a new master.

  I looked up into a dark, star-filled sky. Somewhere out there was a small blue orb—and on that planet, a people unlike any other in the universe.

  A people worth dying for... Or, even, a people worth never dying for.

&
nbsp; The End

  This story continues in the Enslaved: Exodus Chronicles, Book 1. Available now everywhere books are sold online. Go here for links.

  Also, keep turning the page to read the first two chapters of ENSLAVED.

  Be sure to sign up for my mailing list to find out how to get your hands on all the exciting books in the Exodus Chronicles.

  Note From the Author

  With new planets discovered, on a seemingly daily basis, many in the Goldilocks Zone (not too hot, and not too cold) it doesn’t seem unreasonable to think there are planets besides our own that harbor life. And it’s not a huge step to think there might be creatures on other worlds with intelligence far beyond our own. But if that’s the case, why haven’t they discovered us yet?

  One answer could be, maybe they have. Some have proposed that we as a species haven’t reached a level worthy of notice by advanced beings. If this is the case, what measure is being used to define our worth? What line must we cross before an alien race takes notice of us?

  In the Star Trek universe, this was warp drive capability—humans invent warp drive, and the Vulcans show up. But even with warp drive, humans would still be, well, human. Our potential to process thought, and understand the universe around us, hasn’t really changed since the first humans walked the planet. Sure technology has improved, but our brain capacity hasn’t.

  It is widely speculated that the next step in human evolution will be when we make the jump from organic bodies to the digital realm. When our minds are uploaded to computers that have processing power far beyond our three-pounds of gray matter.

  Is that what the aliens are waiting for? Are they just biding their time until we are creatures they can relate to, communicate with? But, what would happen if they grew impatient? Maybe they’d work to help us out a little?

  That’s what I’m exploring in Scout. It’s a look at one alien, and his work on Earth to help mankind reach the point where we are worthy of notice by the rulers of his home-world. The only problem, for us, is that notice isn’t something we really want.

  Scout is a prequel short story to my sci-fi trilogy: The Exodus Chronicles. The first book, Enslaved, will be out some time next year. I also write sci-fi and fantasy for kids through adults. You can learn more at www.drobertpease.com or subscribe to my newsletter here: www.drobertpeaser.com/mailinglist where you can get free copies of my stories, and learn about new releases.

  About the Author

  Epic adventures filled most of D. Robert Pease’s childhood. Middle Earth, and the planets of Dune were his stomping grounds. It’s not surprising he chose to write stories with worlds just beyond reach but familiar enough for readers to get lost in new lands with epic adventures all their own.

  D. Robert lives in the grey-skied world of Northeast Ohio with his wife, son, daughter, dog, cat, and a back yard pond full of goldfish. When not writing, he loves travelling the country in an RV and riding his bike up and down the hills of Ohio.

  Find out more at www.drobertpease.com Also, sign up to be the first to hear about new releases at www.drobertpease.com/MailingList

  If you liked this story, please take a moment to leave a review on Amazon. Other than telling your friends to buy a copy of their own, reviewing an author’s stories is the best thing you can do for them. Thank you.

  Special Sneak Preview

  ENSLAVED

  Exodus Chronicles - Book 1

  This space opera is available everywhere November 6th, 2017.

  Cosette awoke, like she had a thousand times before, to a voice infused with calm indifference. Most mornings the computer’s calm tone fit the message. This wasn’t one of those mornings.

  “Emergency protocols initiated.”

  She snapped her eyelids open and struggled to take in her surroundings. A dark space, barely the size of a closet, surrounded her. Something soft and furry was wedged between her and the wall of her enclosure. Faint blue light filtered through a small round window in front of her. It was too frosted over to see through. A red light flashed somewhere inside the enclosure with her, casting bizarre shadows all around. The sharp smell of antiseptic burned her nostrils. Tubes curled around her arms and legs like the cold tentacles of some deep-sea creature straining to drag her into the depths. Cosette’s heart raced, but she forced herself calm. Think. Where am I?

  A voice, deep in the recesses of her mind, screamed in panic, and a primal urge to be free drowned out any rational thought. Her body seemed to act on its own accord, clawing at the tubes protruding from her arms. Warm liquid spurted over her, and the smell—a mixture of alcohol and the coppery scent of blood—grew stronger.

  “Emergency protocols initiated. Please prepare to exit your chamber and move to your predesignated rendezvous point.”

  She struggled to shake the confusion that enveloped her mind. She almost felt intoxicated, but she hadn’t had too much to drink since college. Well, except for that one time with Dr. Bransford…. She shied away from the thought, keeping the memory forgotten.

  How had she ended up here? She couldn’t recall. She was pregnant. The Orion Project neared completion. But no memory came to her of how she came to be in a dark box, all alone. She didn’t need complete understanding of the situation, however, to know something was wrong. Every nerve in her body screamed it.

  A sudden terror at being alone filled her, and a scream again built within her, but this time it escaped, a high-pitched wail trembling against the walls of the small space. Her body shook and tears poured from her eyes. She needed to feel her mother’s embrace. To hear her say everything would be okay. Why had she abandoned her?

  No, that’s not right. Her mother had never abandoned her, and even now Cosette carried a piece of her inside her mind. Through her mother’s memories, Cosette had always felt the immense love her mother had for her. The same love Cosette had for her own daughter, Elena, and her—

  “Emergency protocols initiated. Your chamber will open in thirty seconds.”

  Cosette took a breath to clear her mind of the fear that threatened to cripple her. She lifted her hand to wipe the frost from the window. Her hand appeared swollen against the light—stubby fingers brushed clumsily against the glass.

  “Chamber door opening now. Please gently remove any life support systems and move immediately to your predesignated rendezvous point.”

  Gas hissed and the window swung away. Cool air enveloped her as straps around her legs and torso released and she tumbled forward. Cosette landed in a snaking pile of tubes. The furry object that had been wedged next to her—a rather large teddy bear—fell with her.

  Disentangling herself, she pushed to her feet. Her body felt awkward—out of proportion—and she almost lost her balance, but steadied herself. One tube still stuck from her arm, and though she’d never been afraid of needles before, she heard a shriek of pain in her head as she yanked it out. She clenched her teeth, keeping control.

  A faint blue line ran off in either direction on the floor, providing the only illumination. Giant steel pods lined a long hallway. They reminded her of the renderings she’d seen of the stasis pods aboard Humanity’s Hope. That didn’t make any sense, though. She had no memory of boarding the ship, and Humanity’s Hope wasn’t scheduled to launch for months.

  She staggered over to the pod next to her own. A round window hung two meters above her head. She couldn’t see inside. Were there other people, tucked away in these metal pods? But why did the engineers put the windows so high? More importantly, why was she the only one awake?

  “Please proceed to your predesignated rendezvous point. If you are experiencing disorientation, remain where you are. Someone will assist you shortly.”

  Cosette did indeed feel disoriented. She tried desperately to remember what had happened. It was as if she’d awakened from a dream, and the details skittered away like cockroaches when a light turned on.

  One thing she knew for certain, she couldn’t remain there in the dark. Almost in answer, the hallway
brightened with a warm light. Cosette turned to find it spilling out from beneath a door at the end of the hall. She glanced at the teddy bear at her feet. Reaching down, she picked it up and held it to her chest. Something about the bear comforted her, and even though she was an adult, she could use a bit of comforting at the moment. She staggered toward the door, fighting her uncooperative legs.

  The door was much larger than she had expected. The activation plate on the wall was far out of reach, but when she stood before the door, it opened upward with a whoosh. Light blazed forth, blinding her for a moment.

  After blinking away the spots in her eyes, she shuffled into a room filled with tables and chairs. A ball of fire blazed through a great curved window that took up most of one wall. It looked like the sun, but maybe smaller and against a black sky. She moved toward the window, keeping within the glow of the sun’s light as it slid—too fast—along the floor.

  The burning orb moved out of view, and the room around her darkened in the pallid light of distant stars. She pressed her face against the cold glass, the wonder of her surroundings pushing her anxiety aside for a moment.

  A memory came to her of a trip with her parents, in her early teens, to a small island in the South Pacific. She’d lain on the beach through the whole night, unwilling to sleep because of the immense sky above her. She had felt so small under that great expanse, but at the same time part of something bigger.