Bound – Chapter One

Chapter One

Six years, it had taken six years to get to this moment. Kersten tried not to look too smug and accomplished as she extended her arm out in front of the Registrar. The man was tall and emotionless and towered over her like a dark tree as he pressed the cold metal of a RR gun against the inside of her arm. With a little unnecessary pressure, and a click of the trigger, he inserted Kersten’s newly updated registration card at the crook of her elbow and motioned her forward. Except for a slight twitch in her left eye, she didn’t flinch when the rush of fire ran down her arm and into her fingertips, making her hand numb for a good thirty seconds before the feeling returned.

Taking a deep breath, Kersten turned from the Registrar and finally let a grin slip as she shouldered her way from one room to the next, this time to get the wound just created addressed with a teardrop size of ointment and sheet the size of a bandaid composed of healthy cells. In the three minutes it took to get it done, you’d never know she had a disc the size of her pinky nail ripped out and replaced moments before.

“Qualifications updated. Loading…” scrolled across the screen of her eyepiece as she lowered it back over face. The glass was so thin, it was barely noticeable except for a small piece of decorative wire that wrapped behind her ear and dangled like a piece of jewelry.

“Come on, come on …” Kersten murmured under her breath as she weaved through another crowd of bodies, heading toward the exist. The off white heels she wore clicked over transparent tiles in hurried steps, and she cursed the ceremonial uniform of white, tightly knit fabric she was forced to wear. It was both barbaric and out-of-date that women in the TechnoRuins organization were still required to wear a dress to initiative services. She had only been wearing it for three hours, and already she was ready to wiggle into a pair of slacks and put her hair up into a ponytail

She imagined it had to do with the lack of women in the organization. When the first Earth Wash happened, her mother had been just a girl. It was a time of of empowerment for everyone, and a sense of roles within the space community were quickly distinguished. A lot of female leadership seemed to rise among community development and within political factions of the first few planetside space stations constructed. Among the male population, exploration and expansion seemed to be the predominant choice. It always amazed Kersten, that no matter how far a civilization seems to advance, there would always be a majority that fall instantly back into segregated roles.

“Not me,” she thought outloud, finally reaching down and slipping both heels from her aching feet and taking a slow jog toward the elevator lift. Barely making it inside the doors, her back thumped against the wall of the lift just as it started to its ascent to the roof.

“Load complete. Credentials as follows: Kersten Lea Powell. Female, age 19. Registration Level 5 upgrade. Authorization granted for Access Code 413. Archaeological Initiate…”

“Accepted. Upgrades available upon Sun Shift 3:20:12… 11…10… “ the clock continued to count down in one corner before the text across her lense shifted it down with the slightly flick of her azure gaze.

“Seriously?” she said in an annoyed voice as the doors of the lift opened and dumped her out on the top deck of the Manessa complex. It was here that TechnoRuins conducted most of their administrative duties. “Archaeologists of the future” was their motto, and since the moment she had gotten her hands on a history book dating back to the early BC era of Earth, and later the many videos that Techno released of the space exploration in the late 21st century, Kersten made it her goal to be one of the great explorers of space and all its hidden technological secrets.

Sure, she’d be nameless to most. Most of the population would never know she existed, or any of her accomplishments, just like very few knew the great works of Sandleman and Cormax of the Earth United Exploration unit that first established many of the colonies found scattered around the many divisions of space, and first made connection with the Ranean people, a race not far unlike that of Earthling humans in the 11th Division of space.

It was a Ranean she ran into the moment she catapulted off the lift, nearly propelling her back into the elevator when she bounced off their sturdy chest. Stunned, she threw her hands up, still holding her heels,sending them into the face of a surprised Ranean.

“Powell!” came an angered growl as her commanding officer caught her by the shoulders and straightened Kersten from falling backwards before grabbing at his own face and cursing, “Rawd’s Cowl, woman! A little finesse!” he grunted, gingerly touching the wide bridge of his nose with a slitted glare like a snake down at her.

“Forgive me, Commander Kwledger!” she was quick to apologize, sipping back into her shoes and holding herself straight and at attention. The TechnoRuins organization was a complex combination of science, private militia, and historical investigation and documentation work. Because of that, the hierarchy was a little bit more unorthodox than other fields. Even she struggled with knowing who she answered to, sometimes.

He only grunted in response, and pointed her across the doom covered terrace to receive her first assignment. Even the typical Ranean lack of warmth, or an accidental assault on a commander couldn’t take away the sheer elation she was feeling as she headed toward her future.

The atmosphere outside of the transparent dome was a cloudy pink color, and swirled against the panes of protected glass with a lover’s caress. The sun was rising on Manessa, a moon of Planet System Edyth (P.S.E.) 4, and a crowd of TechnoRuin initiates were already gathered on the synthetic yard, standing in rows depending on the color of their uniforms. Blues for scientific track, reds for militarian, purple for administrative, green for leadership, and white for historical explorational tracks. In a crowd of almost sixty new and upgraded employees, only eight stood in white. Nine, when she crossed the short distance to stand beside them.

“Our little kitten decided to join us,” came an under the breath comment from her fellow initiative in white, beside her.

“Shut it, River,” was all she said in verbal response, but every muscle in her tensed as she fought the urge to reach over and give him a fist to the gut. There were many River Stevens. The kind that didn’t think she was a good fit for TechnoRuins, that were seriously taking bets when she would fail, how many missions she’d get under her belt before it became too much for her or she never made it back. They didn’t bother to stifle their laughs or their thoughts, but she was glad for it. It fed a fire within her that they were oblivious that they fed, and it had ceased to bother her years ago. That didn’t mean she didn’t regularly get the urge to disconnect their exploration suites, sometimes, and let them float away in space.

For the good of civilizations, and all that.

She heard him scoff beside her, and could almost feel him rolling his eyes, but she only grinned as a new block of text took up the screen of her left eye’s lense. It listed teams of three and four as initiates were paired together across specialization and rank. Depending on the details of a mission or division’s deployment, teams could have a specialist of each department, a two man team, or a team of their own. She was relieved to see River ordered into a team of three other militarians, but started to worry when the crowd was quickly dispersing and thinning out, and she was left standing with a handful of others. By the time she was the only white uniform remaining, all the smug attitude she could barely contain an hour ago was no where to be found. She wanted to slouch her shoulders and look defeated, but instead she continued to stand where she was as she flicked back through the posted orders.  

Seventeen teams had been dispersed. Fifty-nine different individuals of varying levels of skill, clearance, training, and speciality. She must had scanned it fifty times looking for her name and her placement when she finally glanced around to find herself alone. How long she had been standing there with a frustrated, far away look on her face, she wasn’t sure, but when the realization hit her that she hadn’t been chosen for assignment, it was like a weight had dropped from her head to her stomach that threatened to break her legs. It made no sense, and she completely passed any sort of phase of sadness, and went straight to rage.

Ripping her eyepiece from behind her ear, she cursed loud enough for it to carry across the empty lawn. She barely caught herself from flinging the damned thing against the glass panes near her head.

“SON OF A F…” she started, only to get interrupted with boom of a voice somewhere overhead.

“POWELL! Language! Nice job failing your first test. Now head to HQ and meet your new partner. God save his soul,” came a familiar tenor that gave her pause.

“Wha…” she glanced around her quizzically, before a chortle of a laugh interrupted her again.

“Now, Powell. Thirty minutes. No need to fail another test,” was all that was said, before the communication was broken.

She stood there for a few moments, trying to process everything that had just happened. By the time she slipped her eyepiece back on, five minutes had already passed. Knowing it’d take at least ten minutes to get to ground level from where she was, she stopped wasting time and kicked off her shoes, leaving them where she had stood moments before, the only momento that she was ever there.

While she was still a little unsure of what was happening, she knew enough not to question the orders she had just received. One did not simply ignore a request by E.L.O.S., the mainframe computer of the entire TechnoRuins operations.

As if reading her mind, “:)” popped up on the corner of her screen, blinking a few times before disappearing. How the hell did he break into her system again! The hacker. Though, she grinned as she hiked up her skirt to the middle of her thighs and hightailed it to ground level.

Hacked or not. It was time to get her assignment. Failed first test be damned.

 

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