World Divided

By Alexandra A. Cheshire

The world as Qamra knows it is divided between those who dedicate their lives to science and advancing technology and those live under strict traditional laws and rituals based on celestial forces. Then she discovers a middle ground and the secrets in her unremembered past. And it's in those secrets she finds the power to aid in ending the invasion which indiscriminately wipes out both sides of a divided society unable to stand against outside attack.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Howling Wolf Books
• Release date: Aug 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9781987822236

Alexandra A. Cheshire

Alexandra. A. 'Lexa' Cheshire lives in northern British Columbia, Canada. She is a mother who enjoys to read and write fantasy and science fiction.

Book preview

World Divided

Three Drops of Raoy 1

Alexandra A. Cheshire

Published by Howling Wolf Books at Smashwords

Copyright 2016 Alexandra A. Cheshire

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All characters, events and places in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual people or places past or present is strictly coincidental.

Table of Contents

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Epilogue

About Alexandra A. Cheshire

Other Works by Alexandra A. Cheshire

For all those who have aided me on my journey thus far

One

They're back again today. Or at least most of them. They're gathered in a clump down the hall from where I'm standing around, waiting to be let into today's languages lecture. Even in the bland, school issued white tunics, loose grey pants, and soft black shoes we're all required to wear, there's no mistaking them. Almost all of them have long hair, which, although discouraged, isn't against the rules. But several of them dye their hair, either all of it or single locks, and wear all kinds of beads, feathers, and ornamental pins in it. Those are definitely against the rules. We're supposed to keep our hair clean, either short or tied back, and free of distracting and unnecessary ornaments. We're also expected to keep our skin clean and free of all ornamentation. Pierced ears are barely tolerated, so long as the earrings are very small. The colourful and whimsical juice stain designs they wear on any exposed skin are strictly forbidden. Which would be why they keep getting sent home for days at a time.

The maximum time the school is allowed to send them home for is three days. After that they have to be allowed to return. Education is too important to be completely denied. Still, there are whispers the educator's council would like the power to send them away permanently. Seems like no matter how many days they miss, they always return with hair full of colour and ornaments and juice stain designs on their skin.

I envy them. Not so much the way they get to miss school for three days at a time. It seems to me like a slow way to get an education. But for what the ornaments and designs mean. And especially for the way they don't seem to care what anyone thinks of what they look like or do. They seem almost proud of the way they don't fit in here.

I have to keep my blonde hair short and clean. I have to keep my skin perfectly clean. I have to keep my school clothes neat. I can't miss any lectures or labs and all my assignments have to be turned in on time. If I were ever sent home for any length of time for any reason, I would pay for it dearly in extra chores and studying. There's no flexibility in the rules governing my life. And no point attempting to argue with my mother, the enforcer of said rules.

The door slides open and I join the other students filing into the languages lecture.

As I take my usual seat near the middle, I spot one of the girls from the group I'd seen in the hall, a dark eyed brunette with feathers in her hair and dark designs on her skin, moving towards a front corner. My eyes follow her as she sits and produces the school issued handheld electronic pad known as a notes recorder. Then the lecturer takes his place in front of us and I have to hurry to get out my own recorder and start it up. I try to turn my attention to what is said, but my eyes keep drifting back to the girl at the front. She never looks away from her notes so I hope she hasn't noticed me.

After languages comes social science, which means leaving one lecture for another. I don't see the girl from languages again, but, as I take my usual seat for social science, I spot two more from the same group, another girl and a young man. As with the other girl, they're seated near the front but off to one side. And again, my attention keeps going back to them throughout the lecture. Except this time the girl catches me. She just goes back to recording her lecture notes, but I can't help flushing in embarrassment. I don't mean to be rude. After that, I force my attention to stay on the lecturer until the session is over.

At the end of the lecture, I do my best to blend in with the other students filing out of the room. Since this was the last session of the day, I join the everyone else streaming out of the sleek grey box of a school building. Many head for the waiting line of hover transports, but I set off in a different direction. My mother and I live close enough to the school for me to walk back and forth.

My mother isn't home when I arrive at our ground floor apartment in a building of the same style as the school, but she never is. It's the rare day when she gets home in time to say good night before I go to bed. Seems like the only time I see her is first thing in the morning, for the few minutes between the time I get up and the time she leaves for work.

The message light on the communications panel in the wall opposite the sliding door is blinking. I cross the common room of our apartment to see what it is. As soon as I touch the playback command, the screen fills with text. The message is from my mother, listing off the chores she needs me to do and telling me my supper is in the stasis unit. There's nothing I didn't already know, so I delete the message and start into my usual after school chores. Supper turns out to be yet another of my mother's casseroles. Supposedly they're loaded with good nutritious wholesome foods. Maybe they are. Honestly, they taste like something most people would flush. I dispose of the casserole and quickly fix my own supper. I'm starting to think I'm a better cook even now than my mother ever was.

Once everything is cleaned up, I spend a little bit of time reviewing my lecture notes from today before going to bed.

I wake up right before my alarm and shut it off. Getting up, I dress in clean school clothes, run a comb through my hair, and go out to get some breakfast. My mother is out in the kitchen corner of the common room, preparing a lunch to take to work.

Good morning, Cami.

Good morning, Mother. I go about my morning routine. She does the same.

On her way out the door, she calls, Have a good day, Cami. Then she's gone.

I finish cleaning up from breakfast, make sure I have my lab day kit, and leave for school.

My first lab of the day is life skills. Inside the laboratory, I sit at my usual table. However, there's no sign of my partner. She's never missed a lab so I can't help wondering what happened.

The lab supervisor gives us our instructions for the session and tells everyone to start. Then he comes over to me.

Cami, we've had word Lana's family was recalled to Evantech headquarters. My understanding is they won't be returning.

I nod.

He takes a deep breath, I hate to do this to you, but the only one available to be your partner right now is Sidra. He indicates the girl I had seen in my languages lecture yesterday. She's standing near the door, looking uncertain.

I nod again.

The lab supervisor turns to beckon her over. She looks increasingly uncertain as she approaches.

Sidra, this is Cami, He makes a quick introduction, Cami, Sidra.

I nod politely. She returns the gesture, although still looking uncertain.

You should get to work. He leaves us to do so.

Sidra sets her lab kit on the table and I can't help noticing it looks brand new.

Cami... She sounds as uncertain as she looks.

I groan, turning to face her, Only instructors and my mother call me that. It's properly Qamra.

Sidra's uncertainty changes to surprise, That's...

I shrug it off, I don't know how I ended up with the name, just that I did. Anyway, let's get this started.

Sidra nods quickly and we get to work on the lab assignment of the day. Neither of us speaks more than is necessary for the work we're doing. Our final lab reports are filed in silence just before the session ends.

My next lab is mathematics and my usual partner is already seated at our table when I claim my stool. The rest of the day is like that and I only glimpse someone who might be one of Sidra's friends later in the day. Then the school day is over and I walk home as usual.

Again, I wake just before my alarm and shut it off. But today isn't a school day. Instead there's a creativity workshop my mother wants me to attend. She's off to work as usual. I just go through my morning routine and head over to the school since it's where the workshops are held. As I approach the building, I can see lots of others also headed for the various workshops offered on the days we don't have lectures or labs.

Qamra!

I frown as I turn, wondering who would be calling me by my given name. Almost immediately I spot Sidra standing just off the grounds with several others like her. She's beckoning me over. Curious, I go to join them.

As I approach, I'm well aware of being studied. I guess it isn't a surprise. My given name is very much at odds with my appearance. Hence my more common sounding nickname.

Sidra takes a deep breath as I get close enough to speak normally. Qamra, this is Tariq. He wanted to meet you.

My eyes go to the young man beside her. He looks almost old enough to be finished school. He has blond hair streaked green and blue and bright green eyes. His gaze is critical, if a little unnerving, as he continues to study me.

Most people wouldn't work with one of us.

I shrug, She did her share of the work and I did mine. Beat having to do it all myself.

My words clearly surprise him, Most others don't think like that.

My mother always told me origin doesn't matter so long as the work is good.

Tariq frowns as he continues to study me, She named you?

I shrug again, I don't know. Neither of us remember the first few years of my life.

His frown deepens, At all?

Nothing before coming to live here. Well, except our names and that my father is dead.

There's no other family?

I shrug, Mother doesn't remember if there was or not, I take a deep breath and glance at the building, I need to get to my workshop.

Tariq nods, Go ahead.

I head for the school building and manage to slip into the room where the workshop is being held just before it starts.

At the end of the day, I leave the room to find Tariq in the hall outside. I can't help frowning, especially when he falls into step with me as I walk away.

I'm sorry about this morning, He looks apologetic, I only wanted to meet you.

It's okay, I shrug lightly, I'm just kinda used to it.

He frowns, You get that a lot?

Less now, I admit, But it used to be all the time... back when I first started attending here.

His frown deepens, Do you have any idea why you even live here?

We live here... my mother and me... because she was able to get work here. And obviously she's good enough at her job to keep it, I shake my head, But that's pretty much the end of it.

Tariq looks surprised, You don't like it here?

Another year or two and they'll shunt me into some level of service work.

He frowns, Service work?

Why not? Perfect attendance, perfect work habits, average evaluation results, and no noteworthy achievements.

His frown deepens, I've never heard of anyone managing perfect attendance.

I've never had a reason to miss. I never get sick or anything.

Everyone gets sick sometimes.

I shake my head, At least I don't remember ever being sick.

Tariq raises an eyebrow, After we saw you this morning... He takes a deep breath, I think you might actually be like us. And some of the others agree.

Even if I am? I turn my head and look up so my eyes meet his, What good does it do me?

What do you really have to lose? Tariq studies me expectantly, You don't seem to think you have much of a future here.

I look away from him, my mind going over a long list of possibilities. My mother would kill me if I start hanging out with Tariq and his friends. On the other hand, the best I have to look forward to as things are is a life long career in some kind of service. And so long as I'm home before she is every day, I doubt she'd ever know.

Qamra?

I shake my head in an attempt to clear it before looking at him again, I'd like to get to know you better.

He nods, chuckling softly, And your mother?

She can't find out, I make a face, She's already super strict with the rules. But she also works late every night.

I was just thinking we could hang out nearby anyway.

Tariq and I leave the school building to find Sidra waiting on the edge of the grounds. She beckons us over and we go. I have no reason to rush home and I'm curious about what she wants.

She glances over Tariq with an expression which suggests she's less than impressed, but once we're close enough to speak normally, she addresses me.

If there were a way to recover your memory, would you want to?

It'd be nice to know what happened, I swallow at the thought, Would it take long?

Probably not so long you wouldn't be home before your mother. Tariq doesn't give Sidra a chance to respond. But when I glance at her, she nods.

You'd have to come with me. Is all she does say.

I just nod and the three of us start walking away from the school.

I rarely venture farther from home than the school or the nearest consumables vendor. I've lived almost my entire life within a very small area. But now Sidra and Tariq lead me well away from anything I'm familiar with.

The cold, clean, sleek apartment blocks and other buildings give way to less heavily fabricated