Humanity

By Edward James Bowman

Set on the planet of Manticore in the 50th century, Lord Koris Young and Lord Lysander Jordanis vie for the chairman role in the soon-approaching election while also trying to keep sanity in their personal lives as their worlds fall apart around them.

Koris Young, the youngest chairman candidate in Manticorian history at seventy, must learn to survive in the political game with natural ageism and his conflicting views from the other lords and ladies as he fights for equal rights on a class-based planet. He must learn how to tactfully propose his suggestions to unite the uptowners and downtowners -- an idea frowned upon by other Manticorian politicians -- or watch his only chance of changing Manticore for the better crumble in front of his eyes.

Lysander Jordanis seems like the more logical choice for the people of Manticore. He's over six-hundred years-old and has been in the political game longer than his rival has been alive. Despite this natural advantage, Lord Jordanis' pride is his downfall as he starts to lose everything he loves due to his own fault.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Edward James Bowman
• Release date: Dec 17, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311495242

Edward James Bowman

I love science fiction and fantasy. Mainly space opera or high-tech. I also love Greek tragedies which I try to intertwine with my science fiction stories. My email is [e-mail].

Book preview

1

Manticore Metropolis or Màn tí kǎo Chéngshì: the foremost and only city on the whole of Manticore. In many ways, the planet would resemble Mars from the old Solar System, however it was habitable. The only problem was that conditions were not entirely habitable for humans. Only the natives of the planet could survive the light from the fearsome Jhard. Humans burned in the light of the powerful star, and yet humans became the primary inhabitants of Manticore Metropolis. Desperation can lead to drastic measures.

The old Solar System had become overcrowded as well as polluted and humans yearned for new planets to call ‘home’. One of the arks found Manticore; home of the svellik. The svellik were a peaceful race who took the human refugees into their great city where the light from the Jhard would not harm them. After a thousand years the svellik population had diminished to almost the point of extinction. Humans were the race that bit the hand that fed them. They could not comprehend sharing the planet and so they took it by force. They maintained the high-rise buildings of Metropolis that protected them from the Jhard, but they refurnished the great city to serve human needs.

The city was split. The wealthy politicians, entrepreneurs and aristocrats lived uptown in the upper-halves of the skyscrapers while the poor wordless discards of mankind lived downtown in the lawless ghetto. With such a defined divide in the population, the most any child from downtown could dream for was to become an employee for their uptown masters. That was every downtowner’s dream; escape their lower elements anguish and catch a glimpse of what it meant to live uptown.

* * *

The great star in the sky had just sunk below the orange peaks in the distance. The canyon Manticore Metropolis sat in suddenly became dark, and that was a good thing for the uptowners. The upper-city’s nightlife instantly came alive. Fortunately, the days on Manticore were only nine hours while the nights were eleven. On a planet where humans, no matter their historic ethnicity, were fair skinned it was better to have more night than day.

However, the downtowners would dispute the notion. In the dark was when all the monstrous humans emerged from their hiding places and wreaked havoc. Every night was the same downtown; a non-stop riot. There was no authoritative voice of reason so there was no incentive for the damaged humans to act civilised.

In the rapidly darkening alleyway a doomed youth ran for his life. In the 21st century he would have looked too little to be eight, yet in 50th century Manticore Metropolis stunted growth due to malnourishment was common downtown. The uptown tycoons owned all food and water that went in and out of downtown. Most had decided that there was not enough profit in feeding the poor and cancelled the downtown shipments. When regular food became beyond scarce the downtowners turned on each other. Cannibalism was for survival.

He was exhausted and injured, but the little boy picked up the pace when he heard an aggressive man repeatedly screaming ‘Erik’.

The little child panicked when he felt like the continuingly narrowing alleyway was closing in on him. He went tumbling when his barefoot struck a dislodged piece of the pavement. He whimpered in his own language, wishing that it would all just stop.

Slowly, he hobbled over to the old wreckage of a giant unknown contraption. His blood speckled the ground as both his nose and split toenail bled. Only a little too late did he realize the mistake he had made.

Rarr! a boy screamed as he jumped out from behind the wreckage.

Erik squealed and stumbled backwards before his back hit the asphalt. He heard numerous people laughing and froze.

Three more urchins came out from their metal fortress. Filthy rags covered most of their faces as they tried to hide their boyish appearances. The apparent alpha of the pack wore black goggles to make his face featureless. The metal rim of his goggles was dented while both lenses were severely cracked which suggested that they had possibly fallen from above.

lookin’ like wǒmen havsa dinna t‘night, the leader said maniacally.

It took the little boy a moment to understand what the urchin had said. He was not very fluent with their language. However, he understood their intentions when the alpha pulled a jagged piece of metal from his jacket. Erik screamed ‘no’ in his own language which was not understood by the boys. He scrambled to his feet and tried to run, but one of the other pack members grabbed him under the arms. No matter how much he tried, he could not wriggle free. The leading urchin dragged the shard of metal down Erik’s cheek mockingly. The little boy flinched when the urchin pressed too hard and drew blood.

Ya tryin’ to run? he hissed. Bǎobèi, wǒ’ma hungry.

Erik whimpered when the leader lifted his ragged shirt up to examine his prey. The boy’s intestines were sucked in behind his rib cage which was perfectly defined behind his sickly white skin. Skinny thingie, aren’t cha? Ah well, a meal’s a meal.

Erik made an animalistic grunt when the shard of metal was jabbed into his chest. He heard the urchin holding him smirk before taking a step back and letting him drop. The small child curled up into a foetal position to protect his bloody chest as he wheezed.

We eatin’ the whole thing now? one of the other pack members asked. His stomach had been growling for days.

Nah. The leader shook his head as he knelt down to get a better look at Erik’s suffering as he bled to death. We’ll start with a leg. Gotta lotta meat in the thighs. Bàba can put the rest in the coola for later.

Erik was in a daze and did not hear the conversation going on about him. His vision began to fade just as an animalistic hissing sound echoed through the alleyway. The urchins looked up at the source before instantly retreating back into the shadows.

The boy deliriously croaked ‘help me’ in his own language as a tall figure overshadowed him before he closed his eyes.

It’sss okay, child. Mama’sss herrre, a soothing voice hummed as the little boy drifted into unconsciousness.

The last thing the little boy heard was a man still calling out his name, but now the voice was far away.

2

The Parliament House was a gigantic upside-down pyramid. Of course, human architects had not designed such a strange building. The svellik had built the enormous structure thousands of years before the ark landed on the surface of Manticore. Humans had never truly understood the purpose of the building in the time when their alien counterparts ruled. In the svellik language, Tenue, the strange grey and gold pyramid was called Knelekt. There was no translation for Knelekt in any human language. The closest synonym was ‘explain’ or ‘enlighten’. It had been a religious monument in svellik times; however the humans had made it the home of government as it was the only true distinguishable building from the hundreds of other straight up and down grey buildings surrounding it.

Like all constructions, the lower floors were completely ignored by the uptown civilians as they were too close to the lower city. To move from one building to another without using the filthy streets of downtown, there were light-repellent skyways that linked all the buildings and created the shadow of a spider web above downtown.

The monorail system acted as the primary transportation method for travelling lengthier distances uptown, nonetheless important businesspeople and famous politicians tended to avoid the skyways and monorails as they were too public. Taking a private shuttle was more logical when you lived constantly in fear of being assassinated by a radical.

With a little over one month till the new chairman – or zhǔxí in formal terms – was elected, the three candidates were under a great amount of stress as they tried to scrape in the assured voters. Former Chairwoman Penelope Renard from the House of Dragons led with forty-five per cent of the uptown population in favour of her while the other two candidates shared the other per cent of the population evenly between them.

Like the other lords and ladies of the House of Dragons, she had no doubt in her mind that she would win the election and get another ten years in office. She did not see any way that she could lose. The annoying part of the whole electoral system was the one month in which she legally was not chairman. For that single month at the end of every decade there was no chairperson. It was up to the senate to maintain Manticore Metropolis for that single month. Penelope was over seven-hundred years old so she knew very well that the lords and ladies in the senate could not be expected to maintain a function system.

At the end of the first of three debates the candidates stood together for the short press conference that followed. All of them proudly wore their House’s colours. Lady Penelope Renard was in a red and golden robe, Lord Finn Yuan from the House of Oxen was in a dark blue, grey and silver robe while Lady Fae Sonata from the House of Rats was in her brown and dark grey robe. All three candidates wore the same style robe and the same black dress shoes, pants and dress shirts.

Lord Lysander Jordanis stood by in the shadows with the other deputy chairman candidates to observe the brief press conference from the back of the room. He and Penelope had made an excellent team during their term in office. In the eyes of the public Renard had been seen as a stern woman who got things done while Jordanis had been the poster boy who did more work behind the scenes than the public realised. His six-hundredth and fifth birthday was in a few days, however he was still incredibly youthful both physically and spiritually. That was why the people loved him; he looked like a typical youthful man. His fair hair and unusual jade-like irises certainly attracted people. With his looks people thought he was just a brain-dead poster boy. They were quite surprised when the realised how wise he was.

Indubitably? the slender man joked as the former chairwoman walked over to him after the press conference. He was referring to when Renard had stated that she would ‘indubitably’ deal with monorails to make sure they were on time and more efficient. I do not think that word has been used since, oh, I don’t know, the twentieth century on Old Earth?

My choice of words was intentional, she explained. I figured it was a sincere, almost adorable word that would endear me to the public, and also assure them I would get the job done.

Lysander nodded along although he doubted Penelope was telling the truth. She had most likely been lost for a good substitute for the word ‘undoubtedly’ which was a word she had already used too much in that press conference and wanted some variation.

The chief of the House of Dragons security strolled over to the candidates. Neil Van Halogen, he was a six-foot bulky man who did not suit the slim-figured flamboyant lords and ladies of the House of Dragons.

Will you be attending the dinner party tonight? he asked in a deep voice.

Indubitably. Lysander said with a smile. Penelope rolled her eyes – she knew he would never let it go.

The small party for the high-ranking lords and ladies was held on the roof of the Parliament House just after sundown. All candidates were peer pressured into attending as photographers would be there and it would be good publicity for them if they could be seen as casual and friendly.

Lysander never had a problem with the parties with his socialite qualities. He would make his way through the politicians with jokes, gossip and a bit of flirting. There was only one man he could not get his head around: Lord Koris Young. The man was a rookie in the game of politics. At only seventy years-old he was the deputy chairman candidate for the House of Oxen. Although he had had the anti-aging treatment to make himself appear much younger, Koris did not seem to put much effort into his looks. His face was covered in stubble and his short, yet thick black hair was all over the place. Lysander knew the young man was not a typical politician, and he wanted to know why the House of Oxen had thrown him into the ring.

Koris didn’t look happy to see Lysander strolling over to him. They knew each other outside of politics. Everyone knew everyone uptown. These two knew each other because Koris’ daughter, Melody, was dating Lysander’s son, Princeton. Koris had never approved of Prince and not just because of his overconfident name. At eighteen, he was over two years older than Melody and seemed to have a one track mind when it came to their relationship; he wanted sex. He was just like his father in that sense. Both men were always frisky. However, Prince was a little more patient when it came to his desires and respected Melody’s abstinence. When his father craved intimacy he simply threw one of his downtown servants on the bed. Lysander felt no guilt doing that: due to the Servants Union he was required to give any servant he had sex with a small bonus in their pay check. Like most lords and ladies, he presumed that prostitution came with the job of a servant. Koris, on the other hand, despised the servant-master dynamic in Manticore Metropolis. He knew his viewpoint was different from most other politicians which was why he stayed silent.

Lord Finn Yuan did a good debate tonight, Lysander said ‘sincerely’ as he lit up an orange cigarette. Poor Finn had been quite lost for words when it came to a question about the new Olympus United factory opening up within the month. He had had no idea what Olympus United was and Koris had been forced to stand by and bite his lip while Finn rambled about nothing.

Quite. Koris sipped his apple juice nonchalantly. Any type of juice on 50th century Manticore was considered fancy because natural fruits and vegetables could not be grown outside under the scorching light of the Jhard. All fruits were either grown in the artificial biospheres, or frozen and then shipped to Manticore from other planets humans had colonised.

Orange smoke seeped from Lysander’s mouth as he exhaled. He had no clue what strange concoctions had formed the cigarettes he smoked so willingly but did not care providing they did not kill him.

What are Melody, Andromeda and, Lysander looked up in thought as he tried to remember the fourth member of Koris’ household’s name, Flick! He snapped his fingers. What are those three up to tonight?

Koris shrugged and took another small sip of his drink. He did not feel like talking. He especially didn’t feel like talking to Jordanis about his wife because he knew that Andromeda and Lysander had had been intimate with each other before Koris married her many years later. Lysander knew that Koris felt awkward whenever he brought up Andromeda, and yet he took pleasure in making Koris annoyed. It was a new pastime he greatly enjoyed because Young was so uptight about everything.

Lysander opened his mouth to speak when he noticed the pair of dark brown eyes staring at him judgingly from the other side of the party. Nikhita: the deputy chief of security for the House of Oxen. Anyone, even a downtowner, could instantly tell she had not been born on Manticore. Her natural skin was very dark compared to the sickly pale people she was around daily. Two-hundred and seventeen years ago she had been born in the Indian biosphere on Old Earth and a hundred years after that she boarded a transit spaceship and ventured to Manticore with a handful of others. Lysander remembered day well when the dark-skinned woman emerged from her deep sleep chamber. He and a few others had been requested to be the hospitality reps when the transit spaceship landed:

Breath out, the nurse in white said soothingly as a man hacked-up the deep sleep gel he had been pickled in. The nurse patted him on the back like he was a new-born baby to help get the fluid out of his lungs.

The hospitality representatives from each of the houses stood on the other side of the glass as the deep sleep passenger chambers were opened one at time. They had to be out of the contamination zone in case any of the new citizens had unforeseen diseases. Even if they had a disease that was common on Old Earth, the immune systems of the Manticorian people may have never been prepared for the new sickness and the virus would spread through the city like the Black Death.

There were six passengers aboard the shuttle which was the largest number Manticore had ever received in one transit. The amount of money and effort it required to move planet was not worth paying for a new life on Manticore. Lysander figured that these people had moved to a desolate planet so far away from Old Earth because they desperately needed a new life. That, or they knew wanted their share of the rich mineral deposits below the surface of the orange planet.

Finally, the nurses were opening up the sixth passenger chamber. Two of the passengers were from Britain, another was from Norway and the final three were from various parts of Asia. Compared to the people of Manticore, these Old Earth people were considered incredibly tanned… and then the sixth chamber was opened.

Jordanis heard the House of Rats representative gasp as the dark woman emerged from the blue gel. They had all heard stories about the range in skin colour on Old Earth; they had even seen some photos on the internet, but never had they expected to find themselves in the presence of such a dark, beautiful woman.

Her long black hair was stiff due to gel in it as she sat up and started coughing. The nurses did not seem to know what to do with her and just stared at her. They had seen her profile and photo, and yet they still had not been mentally prepared for how different she looked.

Blue gel dribbled from the corner of her mouth as she looked at the three people on the other side of the glass. Their expressions were priceless. She herself was surprised by how pale the people were. They looked like walking corpses. Suddenly she began to fear that she would never feel rays of sunlight hitting her skin again. She sighed: it was a small price to pay for a new life.

Hey, a picture will last longer! she yelled to startle the hospitality representatives. They had all been staring at her wet, naked body.

Surprisingly, the House of Oxen rep did raise her tablet so she could take a photo. Jordanis swatted it back down and gave her a scolding look. "Take a mental picture," he muttered so that Nikhita could not hear him nor read his lips.

You are looking… I believe it is somaina. Lysander said smugly before inhaling more of the orange smoke from his cigarette.

I do look beautiful, Nikhita noted while looking down at her not-so-attractive security uniform, and Bodo is not my first language. Nice try.

Lysander exhaled loudly. Rest assured, Miss Kothari, I will figure it out.

Uh huh, she nodded along with a patronising smile.

The pair had a game going: every time they encountered each other Lysander would try and guess Nikhita’s first language. This was all because a few years back she had informed him that she had not originally spoken Mandarin, English or Hindi when she was a child. Jordanis hated not winning so if he knew he was going to come across Nikhita at an event or party, he would memorise a few key words from a particular language in India and then incorporate some of them into their next conversation in hopes that he had found her first language. The two were not exactly friends, however the former deputy chairman enjoyed studying Old Earth in his spare time which meant he and Nikhita had a connection.

It is something like Arabic, isn’t it? he asked with a pitched voice that suggested he was annoyed. It is a language that isn’t native to India.

Yes… my first language is actually Slovak, she joked. Now go away. I’m on duty.

Koris flipped his wrist to check his watch. It was just a few minutes past the eleventh hour mark and this party was most likely going to go till the thirteenth hour. He sighed. Young was not a socialite. He would have much rather been at home or in his office doing something productive.

He considered making up an excuse so he could slip out, but that would not look good in the news. The reporters were stalking the party scene and would notice his departure. He was stuck here at least until the chairman candidate from the House of Oxen left. Sadly, Lord Finn Yuan seemed to be enjoying the festivity very much and would most likely be the last person to leave.

He avoided making conversation for most of the night unless conversation was forced upon him by the more assertive lords and ladies. Koris was not antisocial; he simply despised all other senators even though he was one himself. The truth of the matter was that Young worked so hard in politics because he wanted to change government and ‘bring back democracy’. Here all the uptowners were acting like royalty and having nameless servants bring them drinks, but Koris was very aware of the world that was down below them. Most uptowners found it easier to be ignorant to the on-goings of downtown. Koris couldn’t bring himself to do that. Unlike most other lords and ladies, he was still a young politician who had not closed his mind off yet.

A lady from the House of Rats had just sparked up a conversation with Koris before everyone’s eyes darted to the sky. There was an eerie sound as an object whizzed through the air. It looked like a star in the night’s sky as it first shot directly up and then started downwards… toward the rooftop of the Parliament House.

The reaction was split for the lords and ladies. Some screamed and panicked while others stood still like deer in the headlights. None of them could truly comprehend what was about to happen. Precautions had been taken to keep them safe during the dinner party – how could nobody in security have seen this coming?

Nikhita cursed repeatedly as she made a dash for the House of Oxen lord closest to her: Koris Young. She grabbed his wrist roughly and hauled him toward the stairwell. Unlike everyone else, she was never surprised to see bombs, missiles, drones or anything of that sort. She came from a hard planet where those things were common in the constant wars for the dwindling resources of Old Earth.

Most of the security guards had quickly gone into action. However, some ran off without even thinking about the lords and ladies they had sworn to guard. The House of Oxen Chief of Security, Renaldo Davys, was one of these cowards who panicked and dashed to the stairwell as quickly as he could without even taking one look at Lord Finn Yuan: the man he was supposed to primarily protect.

It’s a missile, Koris stated bewilderedly as Nikhita pushed him through the door to the stairwell.

Yes, I know! she hissed. Nikhita did not like it when Koris was this dazed as he was usually so calm and rational.

Looking back over her shoulder, she saw that Finn was still standing there staring up at the sky. With Renaldo not coming to his aid, Nikhita would have to act fast if she was going to save the man. The warhead would reach its target within seconds. She was not sure how big the detonation would be, she could never tell with missiles. She had seen huge ones leave barely a scratch, and small ones destroy city blocks.

Nikhita took a step in the direction Finn was before she was pulled back. At some point within the last few seconds Koris had snapped out of his disordered state and realised the danger they were in. He had pulled the deputy chief of security back because he knew it was too late.

Lady Penelope Renard had fallen to the ground when a panicked lord pushed past her. She looked up just in time to see the missile in the final moments before it exploded. It had been coming for her. The missile had intentionally found her on the rooftop. That was the problem with being the leading candidate: there were many that loved her and many that resented her for being loved.

Nikhita was winded when the shockwave from the blast blew her and Koris to the ground. The stairwell protected them from most of the blast, but it still left her ears ringing. One of the ladies was hit so hard by the shockwave that she flew over the rail and right down through the never-ending spiral staircase. Nikhita didn’t notice that. Time slowed as she lay helplessly on the floor and watched the fiery explosion consume the poor lords and ladies who had not made it out of the blast range in time. Finn was one of them. He had nearly been at the heart of the explosion. Though her ears were temporarily deaf to all sound save the annoying ringing, she swore she heard Koris scream ‘no’.

Medics arrived quickly on the scene. Usually a squad of the quantity needed to help so many people would take a while to assemble, but with politicians’ lives on the line they arrived within half an hour. Stepping over the slowly dying servants they rushed to the fallen lords and ladies with medical kits at the ready.

The damage done by the missile was without a doubt going to affect the upcoming election. The real question was how many lords and ladies had died… and how many of them had been candidates. The election had never been postponed in Manticore Metropolis and not even the death of every politician in the senate would delay it.

Only the precise impact point of the missile was charred black. The Parliament House was made out of incredibly strong metal that was virtually indestructible to any manmade weapons. Next to the small black circle lay the disintegrated remains of Lady Penelope Renard. Jordanis stared down at them expressionless with his arm raised so that a medic could seal the large gash across his elbow. It was less than an hour after the chaos and Lysander was already smoking again. He usually found that the long orange cigarettes helped relieve stress, though right then the ‘magic sticks’ were not working.

Death lies on her like an untimely frost upon the sweetest flower of all the field, he murmured before inhaling more orange smoke.

Hmm? The medic looked up from her duty questioningly.

Lysander looked back: "Romeo and Juliet? No? Her blank stare made him sigh. Honestly, what are they teaching kids in schools these days?"

The medic blushed. She was young, but Shakespearian plays were not taught in the mainstream courses at Manticore Academy. Shakespeare was only taught in the Old Earth fine literature classes. The metaphors used in most of the plays were too hard for a student to comprehend as no Manticorians had ever seen frost blanketing a field. Their planet was a desert wasteland where frost would never form and flowers would never grow under the burning light of the Jhard.

The only living chairperson candidate was Lady Fae Sonata from the House of Rats. While staring down at Penelope, Lysander thought about how the House of Dragons was most likely going to choose him to be the new chairperson candidate. In that case; who would the deputy chairperson be? Strange things to think about in the aftermath, but there would be time to mourn the lost when he was in office.

Koris Young chose not to hang around the impact zone. He was stories down getting into his shuttle. Nikhita had advised him to go home and remain safe. There was always the chance that there were more missiles to come. Of course, she remained to help with the investigation as she was the chief of security for House of Oxen now that Renaldo Davys was deceased.

Based on what the security cameras had picked-up, the trajectory of the missile suggested that it had been a remote-controlled missile fired from downtown. The thought of any downtowner having that sort of weapon made Koris sick out of fear. He wanted to see the downtowners as equal to the uptowners, but he could not deny the state of anarchy the city below was in. If a madman had a stash of remote-controlled missiles in his possession then no one was safe. In times like these all the security personnel from all of the houses worked alongside the police to track down the culprit of such a crime. The police force was small as they were only needed for dealing with issues uptown and therefore they would certainly benefit from the extra assistance.

Sssirrr, A voice hissed behind him as he opened the door to his shuttle.

Koris spun around instantly before relaxing when he realised it was Ghoad: the new deputy chief of security for the House of the Oxen.

Ghoad was one of the