Stricken

By K.C. Ariel

The world as we know it died nearly a thousand years ago. From the ashes of civilization rose the city of Darkota. Those who live within Darkota's safe walls greatly value physical perfection. With affordable cosmetic surgery and genetic enhancement, only the Stricken, the poorest Darkotians, cannot afford to look flawless. Vyka Calcair's father was assassinated when she was very young. He was a politician that fought for human rights, especially the Stricken. This is her story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Black Rose Writing
• Release date: Jul 17, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386529118

Book preview

Stricken

K.C. Ariel

© Copyright K.C. Ariel 2019

Black Rose Writing | Texas

© 2019 by K.C. Ariel

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publishers, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine or journal.

The final approval for this literary material is granted by the author.

First digital version

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Print ISBN: 978-1-68433-303-5

PUBLISHED BY BLACK ROSE WRITING

www.blackrosewriting.com

Print edition produced in the United States of America

The photographs were taken by JPVision Studio

The model in the photos is Lotus Black

Thank you so much for checking out one of our Sci-Fi novels.

If you enjoy our book, please check out our recommended title for your next great read!

Culture-Z by Karl Andrew Marszalowicz

In the year 2190, mankind has made great strides forward in the worlds of technology, science, and greed. However, when all three get together one last time, this oblivious generation may not exist much longer.

This book is dedicated to my mother and my sister, Kerstin.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Recommended Reading

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Note From The Author

About The Author

BRW Info

Chapter One

A seven-year-old little girl with long, white hair and silver eyes sat on the stylish marble floor of an elegant kitchen, pretending to make her stuffed animals eat out of small porcelain bowls. Her mother was sitting at the kitchen table. The telecaster, a small spherical electronic device mounted to the wall, projected the nighttime news broadcast, as it did every night.

Suddenly, the floor shook, and in the distance, a massive explosion could be heard. Immediately following, the shrill blaring of an alarm sounded throughout the entire manor. The telecaster blazed with a bright red glow and sounded the same shrill alarm. Before she knew what was happening, the little girl was swept off the ground by a giant man in a black suit that she’d only seen when she and her mother went to the store. The man that usually drove them around the city took her mother’s arm and led the household staff to the basement staircase. He flipped on the lights, climbed down the stairs, and lifted a thatch rug from the floorboards of the basement, uncovering a hidden trap door in the floor. He passed the little girl over to her mother and opened the trap door, revealing a ladder that led down into darkness. The frightened little girl clung to her mother as they made their way down the ladder, and the staff followed shortly after.

The giant man closed and locked the trap door overhead as he followed them into the darkness. As soon as he clicked the button that locked the trap door, their hideaway lit up. It was a small room, but it was large enough to fit the three staff members, the mother, her daughter, and their giant protector. A small panel hung on the wall behind the ladder, which the giant man opened and activated the security protocols of the house. The sounds of metal on metal could be heard from the bunker as bars slid into place over every window and door of the manor.

Her mother sunk to the floor, still holding her tight. The little girl heard piercing screams coming from outside. She buried her face in her mother’s shoulder and covered her ears.

Calcair Residence

June 21st, 128 AC

Tuesday Morning

Vyka Calcair woke up from the nightmare to her pet, Neeko, licking the tears from her face. Her clothes were soaked in cold sweat, and she was freezing. Upon seeing that she was awake, the small winged creature jumped down from her bed. She turned to look at the time. Her clock read 07:12, which meant that she didn’t have to be out of bed for another thirty minutes. She groaned in disappointment at the lost sleep and climbed out of bed. With groggy steps, she made her way to her private bathroom.

Vyka turned on the shower and stepped in. The warm water felt good on her skin. She applied a cream to her face and then let the water fall over it. The skin on her face tingled with a cooling sensation from the face wash. She pushed a button on the wall, and the showerhead began to dispense a mixture of soap and warm water. When she was finished scrubbing, she hit the button again, and it returned to pouring solely warm water. She rinsed off and stepped out of the shower. As she stepped out, warm air swirled all around her, coming from vents all over the room. The floor absorbed the water dripping off of her skin. She wrapped her hair up in a towel and brushed her teeth.

She opened her walk-in closet doors and stepped inside. From her extensive wardrobe, she picked out a black and silver suit and matching heels and took them to her vanity, placing the suit on a hook beside the mirror and setting the shoes gently on the floor. When she sat down at the vanity, she verbally commanded its operating system. Deidra, she called its name, recalling it from sleep mode.

Good morning Vyka.

I need to blow dry my hair and paint my nails, said Vyka as she removed the towel from her long, white hair.

A small, square portion of the vanity’s surface slid away, and a box-shaped white machine rose from the interior of the vanity. It had an open face, where Vyka inserted her right hand, resting her palm on the base of the machine.

What color would you like? Deidra asked.

Black Grade-A Gloss, please, responded Vyka.

A circular design pulled away from the back of her chair, concaving to form a bowl shape as it did so. The bowl was attached to a metal arm, which extended, moving the bowl so that it came to rest just above Vyka’s head. It heated up and began blow-drying her hair.

Meanwhile, the machine where her hand rested activated, scanning her hand. It then sprayed her hand with a liquid that fused to her skin, but not to her nails, and turned into a substance similar to a facial peel. Then it painted her nails and dried them. The entire process took less than three minutes.

Left hand, please, requested Deidra, and Vyka removed her right hand and inserted her left. Deidra repeated the method with her left hand and then announced that the process was complete.

Vyka peeled off the protective material, which had moisturized her hands. She stretched her hand out before her, inspecting the job. It was perfect. There was not a speck of black polish on her tan skin.

Her hair was dry, straight, and silky. She opened the top drawer of her vanity and pulled out two silver clips, pinning her hair back away from her face. She applied a little makeup to draw attention to her narrow silver eyes but didn’t do anything to the rest of her face. She didn’t need to; her skin was flawless.

She finished getting dressed and inspected her work in the mirror. Should she curl her hair a bit? She was deciding when she heard her mother’s voice calling from the hallway.

You look beautiful. Now stop messing with your hair, you’re going to be late!

Vyka checked her watch. She had fifty minutes to get to the interview. She was applying to Garnet University, and the interview was just as important as the written portion of the application. Garnet, like every other institution in Darkota City, placed a high level of importance on the appearances of its staff and students.

Nervously, she adjusted her tie and checked her polished nails. No chips. Good, she needed to keep it that way.

Neeko came up to her, pushing his nose against her black pants. The maid must have let him outside after feeding him because there were leaves stuck in his fur. Neeko was an ailay: a unique animal that resembled a canine with wings. Ailays were genetically engineered before The Catastrophe, the event that nearly annihilated the human race many years before. It was the first genetically engineered cross-breed capable of reproduction. They were purely domestic animals, incapable of surviving in the wild.

Vyka pulled a few leaves from his fur and scratched him behind his ears. He pulled his wings tighter against his back and shut his eyes in enjoyment. Never in history had there been a more adored creature, and Vyka made sure he knew it.

She grabbed her purse and a lint roller as she exited her bedroom. As much as she loved the little ailay, he had a tendency to get fur all over, so a lint roller was a constant accessory for her.

You won’t get far without your keys! her mother hollered from the kitchen as Vyka approached the front door. Vyka turned mid-step and backtracked to the key hook on the wall. Her heels clicked on the teal marble floor and echoed off the cathedral ceiling. She looked in the mirror beside the hook and noticed what appeared to be a smudge on her cheek from her eyeliner. Her breath caught in her chest and she rushed to take a closer look. No, no, no – no mistakes today. But upon closer inspection, the smudge was on the mirror, not on her face. She allowed herself to breathe again.

Vyka pushed a button on her key ring and walked to the front of the house again, patting Neeko on the head as she departed. The button’s partner was a small pager inside her driver’s vehicle, which notified him that she needed to be picked up, or in this case, ready to go to a scheduled appointment.

As her eyesight adjusted to the brightness of the day outside, her driver pulled up to the curb. She approached the black full-size luxury car as her driver opened his own door and made his way to the passenger side. Michael was once a beautiful man, with porcelain skin and a huge frame that stood over 6ft tall. The silver-rimmed sunglasses that he wore daily hid his damaged right eye but did not fully cover his scar. It extended across his face from his right eyebrow to the bridge of his nose. Vyka knew very little about Michael, as he preferred not to speak much, but she could tell by his mannerisms and attire that he had come from an upper-class family. She sometimes pitied him for his scar and wondered what he might have become had he not been burdened with the imperfection. They didn’t have the surgeries in his day that were available now.

Michael was what was known in Darkota as Stricken. The Stricken were a class of people that were looked down upon by most of society due to physical imperfections; such as visible scars, missing limbs, crooked teeth, and acne. The Stricken could not afford cosmetic surgeries like most Darkotians could, and they definitely couldn’t afford the genetic modifications that the Elite utilized.

Vyka had inherited her mother’s slim figure and her father’s silver eyes and white hair, but her parents had been genetically endowed with these traits using technology developed before The Catastrophe. Although Vyka had not been genetically modified, her parents had known exactly what she would look like before she was born.

Her father had been born with narrow, brown eyes, and had changed their color, but not their shape. When Vyka saw pictures of him as a child, she had asked him why he didn’t want his eyes to look like the people’s on the telecastor. He had just smiled and told her that he would explain it to her when she got older. But he never got the chance.

Young Calcair, Michael addressed her properly as he held open the passenger rear door for her. She stopped before stepping into the sleek black car and used the lint roller to remove the excess fur on her pants from Neeko. She ripped off the paper that held the fur and crumpled it into a ball. As she got in the vehicle, she handed it to Michael.

They drove away from the house, making their way through the electric gates. Her home, like the rest of the city of Darkota, was surrounded by an 84 ft. wall. Each manor had its own individual walls and gate. These enclosed manors were collectively referred to as an Elite Neighborhood, and they were connected to one another by a single walled-in road that declined into an underground tunnel.

Vyka started to get nervous. Did she look good enough for Garnet? She had the highest test scores of her graduating class, and she came from a reputable family. But was that enough? Light faded as they entered the tunnel that connected her neighborhood to the city.

They rode into the city in silence. Vyka gazed out the window at the graffiti that covered the tunnel. Her mother hated it and called it vandalism, but she thought it was interesting. Most of the graffiti was just teenagers scrawling their names as quickly as they could, but every once in a while, she saw a unique design that intrigued her. The best were often high up on the wall of the tunnel, and a myriad of questions flooded her mind when she saw them. How had the artist gotten up so high? When had they painted the graffiti? At night? If so, how could they see what they were doing? How had nobody noticed them?

City workers usually painted over the street art within a few days of its appearance. About halfway through the tunnel, they drove past a tag being painted over that read, ‘STRICKEN BLOOD BUILT YOUR WALLS!’

The city appeared a few minutes later, in a burst of light, as the tunnel ended. Before them, a spiral highway twisted up skyward, through the center of the four towering buildings of the South Village. They were required to drive very slowly until they reached that spiral highway. People in plain clothes worked along the roads on the ground, selling fruits and vegetables.

The entire base of the city was a perfect pattern of square layered farms. Each farmer’s home was lifted two stories into the sky upon hardy stilts, with a staircase between each story. Thick slabs of fertile dirt planted with fruits and vegetables made up the floors of the first and second stories. From the ceilings hung sprinklers and lamps that radiated artificial sunlight at the exact rate that the crops needed to grow. The sprinklers drew water from the wells deep below the city. Dirt roads, like the one Vyka rode down now, divided the farms.

Farmers didn’t pay taxes with money like the rest of the city – they paid with food. Each farm was expected to pay a certain percentage of their crops, usually around 25%. They could choose to sell the rest of their crop to the government or to other Darkotians, they could trade it for other goods, they could consume it, or they could choose any combination of these. The city and the farm families relied on one another for survival, because nobody could safely leave the city. In fact, leaving the city at night meant almost certain death for most citizens of Darkota.

The walls that surrounded the city were topped by a circuit that, when triggered, would shock its target with 30 amperes of electrical current, instantly killing anything that might touch it.

A river flowed beside Darkota, dipping into the city on the east end, where the fast current was only arrested slightly by crossed bars that dug into the edges of the river, preventing anything larger than a fish from coming through. The bars, and the wall itself were anchored 50 feet below ground.

The buildings within the walls were arranged into groups called Villages, with a spiral highway between every four buildings, connecting to those buildings every ten stories into the sky. The highway before Vyka was referred to as the South Spiral. Although each building was constructed identically; the spirals were not. Every Village served a purpose, and every Spiral served its Village. In addition to the highway for vehicles, the South Spiral had a walkway along the exterior of the spiral.

Every building reached seventy stories into the sky and was anchored twenty stories into the ground. There were many stairwells throughout every building, at least eight on every floor (four inside and four outside). The exterior of the buildings was lined with walkways. Every tenth story held a parking garage and a bridge between the four buildings of the Village.

There were five Villages within the city’s walls, and there were four tunnels that led to the neighborhoods where the Elite built their homes. Darkota was a sight to behold; with its twenty giant buildings where people safely lived, worked and raised families, it was the largest, most populated city in the world. Her population was made up of over 70,000 citizens.

Vyka and Michael reached the end of the horizontal road, and suave black car rapidly started to climb. As the car drove along the spiral road, it passed through the Base School District, where year-long classes were already in session. There were quite a few people, mostly parents on their way to work, hurrying along the walkway of the South Spiral. The entire city was a system of walkways and roads spiraling around and through the five Villages.

Most Base Schools were free, but the most prestigious schools were rather expensive. The higher they climbed, the nicer the schools looked. Windows became tinted first, then tinted in different hues and covered in elaborate designs. The last Base School they passed was her own. Above the Base Schools were the Trade Schools.

All citizens of Darkota were expected to attend some sort of training after they graduated from their Base Schools. The only exceptions to this were farm-family members, because they generally kept their farms in the family, passing them down from generation to generation. To encourage citizens to gain skills and educate themselves, Trade Schools and Single-Year Educational Facilities (SEFs) were free to attend for Darkotians under 20-years-old. These institutions were mostly government funded.

There were only three universities in Darkota, and they were required by the Darkotian government to guarantee that students would have a job related to their major once they graduated. Garnet University had the broadest range of majors and only admitted 150 students each year. It was,