When Rainbows Cry: The Rainbow Quest Series

By Rae Stoltenkamp

Just because this is the future doesn't mean I don't have to babysit – twin 4 year old brothers to be exact. So I'm in the habit of escaping whenever I can. Who can blame me? But this week I'm about to mess with the future, lose one of my brothers and meet a genetically engineered chimpanzee. Together we will either destroy our existence, or be the saving of it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: RaedeneWrites
• Release date: Nov 24, 2017
• ISBN: 9781540147905

Rae Stoltenkamp

Rae Stoltenkamp was born in South Africa and came to England in 1987 to visit family. She stayed on as an alien and was eventually granted British citizenship because she pledged to teach English to inner city school children. When she’s not writing poetry she writes short stories, novellas and novels. Her dearest hope is to make enough money from her writing so one day she can own a very large dog which takes her for walks, keep a villa in Italy and own more shoes than she can count.

Book preview

FOREWORD

I would like to extend enormous thanks to:

Emma Gosnell – my editor-in-chief

Chantal Walters for her supreme proof reading

Jaya Prime for his assistance with the image for the front cover.

DEDICATION

For all the people who participated in the Carnegie Occupation (April 2016) for their stalwart reminder that whatever the cost of our libraries, the price is cheap compared to that of an ignorant nation.

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Prologue

On 3 August 2102, former Communications Officer Marco Zeppo, returned from a shopping trip to find his marital quarters empty. His most beloved wife Neera had vanished.  Propped up against a crystal figurine Marco had never seen before was a letter in her handwriting, provoking questions rather than providing answers.

Inexplicably, after memorising its contents, Marco incinerated the letter.  The crystal figurine he hid, convinced it would never be discovered.  Then he packed a bag and booked a one-way trip to Mars.

Chapter 1

It was just after 4am on Monday 3 June 2197 after possibly the worst week of Petra Sucher's teenage life. She cycled the empty streets with the pathetic hope that if she generated enough speed she could blink herself into an alternate reality.

She’d had to endure seven long days of a humdrum, every day existence interrupting her desire to be in a place where no-one demanded anything of her. She longed to set foot on the deep mulch mat of the NHM’s[1] permanent Rainforest exhibit.

First there had been that thing with Zoe Xandaphaal.  Petra had tried over and over again to explain to the Proctor how getting her smoothie all over Zoe's gel-tab was an accident.  How was she to know the enzymes of the pineapple in her lunch would eat at the proteins of the thing's screen and make it totally inoperable in a Nano second?  Okay, she did actually know this; but she hadn’t spilt her smoothie over the gel-tab on purpose. She hadn’t picked the most corrosive smoothie from the cooler-cabinet deliberately for the purpose of destroying Zoe’s equipment.

Rising in her saddle, Petra pressed her feet down hard into the pedals and swung the handle bars to negotiate a turn.  She veered, popped over the curb and onto the pavement.  Luckily it was too early for a Violation Warden or she’d have been smacked with a fine for pavement pedalling.

Petra also couldn't help that her flipper feet were always tripping over everything.  Besides, she had a suspicion one of Zoe's friends had deliberately put that bag there.  Yes, of course she was clumsy. But bags in pathways between tables didn't exactly help matters.

Swinging out back onto the road Petra grit her teeth as her knees pumped up and down.

The tripping incident had been followed by the absence of her favourite Sci-tutor.  It was the one syllabus she was good at.  Having a great tutor made all the difference.  But the sub wouldn't believe she was 3 levels ahead of everyone else. He wouldn't even check the test logs. He tried making her redo yellow assignments.

The sub – arms tightly crossed and chin jutting out, put in a complaint to the Proctor who gave Petra her most disappointed look: one raised eyebrow and pursed lips.  Then she called Petra’s mother. 

As usual, her mother wasn't interested in hearing Petra’s side. Petra, how hard is it for you to just do what you're supposed to?  This even as Petra deposited her bag on the shelf and the twins rushed in to hug her.  The harangue was accompanied by her mother’s favoured action – fists on waist. 

Petra saw this pose a great deal.  She and her mother had several ‘discussions’ per week.  With the weight of one brother on each leg, making Petra walk like the legendary Schwarzenegger terminator, she responded over her shoulder as she headed for the living area.  Well, mum, why couldn't you have enrolled me in a virtual school instead of this crappy hands-on stuff?  At least computers are not so stupid they don't know when a person has completed a science module already.

Petra knew the colour in her mother’s face had heightened when she heard the pitch of her voice.  Don't you take that tone with me young lady! Your father and I work hard to earn the credits to send you to that establishment.  You're lucky they accepted you at all.

Petra spun, difficult with two toddlers using her as a climbing frame.  Lucky!  Are you kidding me?  Trust me mother, at this point I'm not feeling the luck at all.

Another lively ‘discussion’ with her mother.  They were definitely escalating in number and ferocity.  Petra wanted to be the perfect daughter, to make her parents' lives easier.  But a tiny rebellious kernel made Petra question whether her mother and father merely sent her to The Academy because it was what all their friends and neighbours did.

In the main, she had to admit, it suited her personality.  The majority of tutorials were 1-2-1 with the odd small group session.  But three days a week meals were considered a compulsory social event.  Social!  What a joke.  Luckily you got to choose which three days you wanted to spend socialising with all your mid-upper level socio-economic companions.  Petra attended all the sessions in the first two weeks and established by process of careful analysis that Monday, Thursday and Friday were the best days for her.

Monday – The social elite were too tired and sometimes wired from their weekend of partying to bother anyone and downed a shot of the most recent superfood trend then huddled together for the after party analysis.

Thursday – The Nerdos took over the food hall as it was a Science, Maths and Engineering subject heavy day.

Friday – The social elite were too busy buffing their bodies for the upcoming must-attend weekend parties to notice anyone.  In fact, they usually skipped lunch entirely so they could be better prepared for the Saturday evening party binge.

If only The Academy was not so keen to foster amicable relations between their students.  No one seemed to understand Petra didn't have the slightest inclination to get up close and personal with the shallows around her. 

She would have loved to join the geekier elements of the school but, didn't have time to socialise.  Wasn't she the one and only child-minder her parents could afford?  Her life outside The Academy was all about sticky Lego pieces, messy finger painting and squabbling twins.

Thankfully the physical exertion of the 15 minute journey from the cycle docking station near her house to the one on Exhibition Road helped to ease some of the teeth gritting tension she was feeling.  The short time and distance would not be reflected in her family's monthly travel statement.  It was a method of transport, along with walking, Petra used with alacrity whenever she wanted to avoid questions of her whereabouts with her parents.  And there would be tons of questions if her 4am jaunts were ever discovered.

As Petra darted in and out of the shadows like a cat burglar to avoid the sensor lights around Exhibition Road, she pushed the last week’s unpleasant memories from her mind. She needed to concentrate. Her regulation respirator pouch bumped against her hip. She adjusted the angle of it then headed towards Museum Lane. 

Due to funding cuts Museum Lane had no security sensor lighting so the building’s terracotta brick and tile exterior was only a bulky shape to Petra.  She nonetheless fancied she felt the warmth of yesterday’s sun-baked exterior being released all around her.  Ever since she was very little Petra had always looked on the building as a friend because it housed so many things dear to her heart and interests.

The narrow pavement level ventilation windows that lined the basement were too small for a large person to access, but Petra’s slim physique was no problem at all.  Heading to the 5th window along, she expertly tapped the edges of the frame with the side of her fist.  Petra had inadvertently discovered this breach in security when she’d been playing hide and seek with the twins on a visit to the museum a year ago. An exploratory visit later that night started the first of many subsequent visits.

Bum on the concrete slab, legs dangling through the window, her fingers gripping the window frame, she back arched Limbo style through the opening.  Her pointed toes searched for the top stack of metal storage containers she always used as stairs. Once inside, feet a little apart for easier balance, Petra turned and shut the window then hopped down the box stairway towards her idea of heaven.

The staff access door at the end of the corridor led to the Rainforest exhibit.  Petra wiggled her shoulders and took a few deep breathes.  Just being in the bowels of the NHM with its muted floor level lighting at regular intervals was already exerting calm.  There were no patrols this side of the door and no need for an entry code.  As she pushed at the door Petra felt the resistance created by the different atmospheres of