A Keen Betrayal

By Linda Deenen

Sometimes, where you fight to belong is not where you belong at all.

"A Keen Betrayal" is the story of Meandre, a hybrid teenager, serving humans in the Monroe Collective, one of the last human enclaves standing, after the war. She is a Keener, hybrids with special anatomy that allows them to run on all fours, making them faster and less visible to their violent enemies. Her job is to patrol the outlands, looking for impending Shadowbeast attacks.

Responding to a call for help leads her to Dustin, a boy who had been tasked with testing a new machine intended to deter hostiles. Instead of knocking them out, it disintegrates a small Shadowbeast, sending the others to their knees, wailing. Shocked, because this isn't an emotion they're supposed to possess, Dustin is consumed by guilt and wonders how much of what they've been told about Shadowbeasts is a lie – and whether he should pursue this hidden truth by seeking out his enemy's home and finding out for himself.

Meandre, meanwhile, finds herself drawn to Dustin, even though centuries of years ago, their DNA was stripped of the ability to feel romantic love. She is pleasantly confused and when Dustin asks her to accompany him to look for the Shadowbeasts base, she must decide whether to go and be close to him or stay behind and put her duty first.

This is a sci-fi YA novel that delves into the questions of love, duty, guilt, and evolution. Meandre, accompanied by Dustin, is thrust on an exciting, twisting adventure of shocking revelations, leaving them both wondering who the real monsters are.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Mar 7, 2022
• ISBN: 9781667827018

Book preview

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A Keen Betrayal

© 2022, Linda Deenen.

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Print ISBN: 978-1-66782-7-001

eBook ISBN: 978-1-66782-7-018

Contents

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

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Chapter Forty-Five

For our Grandchildren

Tori; all poetry, music, insight and love

Sam; all chaos, curiosity, joy and love

Both much more than we could have hoped for

Chapter One

As she pushed the miles behind her, Meandre savored the heat vibrating through her muscles. Pale amber eyes, designed to see things many would miss, focused on the plateaus as she sped by.

Her step faltered. Was that movement? In her throat, a high-pitched sound—keening—threatened to call out. Springing up to have a better look, excitement sparked through her veins.

Yes, yes, let there be something, her brain begged and then…there it was, darting across the outcrop to her left. She drove hard into the earth beneath her feet, fluidly transitioning down to a run.

Even though the smallish creature couldn’t be a Shadowbeast, adrenaline spiked her muscles and the chase was on. Racing to the back of the ridge, her mind ran through possibilities; a Skitter, maybe a Fluke or even…a Creppid Human?

She hoped it wasn’t a Skitter. She was pretty sure she could out run a bulky, low-slung Fluke, even a hungry one, and Creppid Humans had sharp claws, but were bent and waddled. Skitters were a whole other thing. Mutated from pre-war lizards, they had two sticky, poisonous tongues and six legs, making them every bit as fast as Meandre.

Nearing the plateau, she eased her pace to avoid startling the prey and cautiously crept forward. Most of the milky coloured rockface had been blasted smooth by relentless winds over the decades, but the base had some ledges that she used to boost her face above the shelf. Triangular imprints, in the dirt, headed to a clump of sagebrush, one of the few plants able to eke out an existence here. The crunch of dry twigs ignited her. One swift movement flipped her onto the shelf, landing in a crouch. Excitedly leaning forward to check the trail, wet, clicking sounds came from inside the bush and her heart fell.

A Porpit. A stupid, annoying, smelly Porpit. She slapped the ground, pluming sand into the air. As if on cue, a roundish, pale blue, furry creature with large, imploring eyes shuffled out of the clump and clicked at her, drool spilling from its beak.

Shaking her head, Meandre propelled herself backward off the shelf and landed neatly on all fours. Well, that was a waste of time, she admonished herself.

Drained and disappointed, she eased back into her routine.

At 15, she was one of the Monroe Collective’s youngest scouts and her job was to search for threats outside the city, warn the Guards and, ideally, not get killed doing it.

She’d no problem with any of that, even the getting killed part. Her frustration was never finding anything. How would she impress her superiors if nothing ever happened? Gritting her teeth, she flipped her long, dark braid onto her back and dropped to the dirt, breaking into a run.

She’s a Keener, born and bred for this work. At first glance, a normal teenager, but like all Helpers, her DNA was altered before birth, by humans seeking to maximize her abilities. Thick, leathery palms pounded flat on the ground as she ran, elbows bent, body inches above the surface. Her powerful legs sloped forward from hip to knee, but the bone between knee and ankle had an extra joint angling her leg forward again, allowing her feet to plant fully on the earth. This quadriped-tracking position, along with a grey body suit, helped keep her invisible to the Shadowbeasts, who were enormous and ran upright.

Her strides lengthened as her muscles relaxed, but frustration took her mind to the argument she’d had last night with Zomes, her supervisor, and she felt her ears getting hot.

For the fifth time, she’d asked him for a more active zone. She’d been running this one for two years and never encountered anything.

Zomes, I’ve proved I’m capable of handling myself out there. I cover my territory faster than anyone else. You know that.

The husky Keener went to pat her shoulder, but she pulled away.

There’s no denying you’re fast, Meandre, but you are also impulsive and foolhardy. Last week in training, instead of skirting the chasm looking for a safe place to cross, you ran straight ahead and made the jump. It was just luck you didn’t hurt yourself. A few inches more and you wouldn’t have made it. Meandre’s cheeks flushed as she replayed the argument.

But I did make it and would have been the first one to the fight if that drill had been real.

Zomes had let out a long sigh.

Keener, try to remember it really is a miracle our scientists have the tools to create us. We have to value that and prove ourselves worthy.

I know all that. What does any of it have to do with me and what I’m asking for? Meandre insisted.

Zomes had gone quiet for a moment, then looked at her long and hard. If they can’t figure out why the birth pods are failing, it’ll be bad for all of us. Last month we lost two Keeners and can’t afford to lose any more. Until you prove you can obey the rules and keep yourself in check, you’ll stay where you are.

Meandre huffed as she ran, trying to shake off her anger and get back to the business at hand, but it wasn’t easy.

Drifts of dust kicked up behind her and danced in the breeze. Usually, she could see Warman, one of her housemates, patrolling his sector just beyond hers. But not today.

Where are you, little Warman? Meandre thought as she neared her border’s edge. How did you get such a head start on me today? She stood to give her legs a stretch and checked the horizon.

The sunbaked miles ahead were both craggy and cracked. After torrential rain, those deep cracks became streams, which accounted for the occasional trees in her view. The sky had a pink tinge, even at noon, but her step-mother had said that a hundred years ago, dense, brick-colored clouds swirled overhead, so full of toxic residue that streams ran red when the rains came.

A mountain range towered to the far right, but from here it looked as devoid of life as the land in front of her. She’d often wondered what those rocky, grey giants would look like up close. Sighing, she thought, Give it up girl, they’ll never let you go there.

All familiar sweet city smells of grass, grain, and freshly baked goods were replaced with a bitter, caustic odor and a permeating dryness that crept down her throat. Subconsciously, she swallowed hard and pulled the neckpiece of her uniform up over her nose.

Slitting her eyes, she searched for Warman’s lean, short frame, but no luck. Where could he be? If she ever did get a new territory, he would be so disappointed. Even though they were roughly the same age, she felt like his big sister. He was the last one to catch on to any new protocol and always took longer to get his moves down in training, so she tried to stay close and help him through the rough spots.

Oh well, let’s do what we’re out here for, Meandre. Moving silently over the uneven landscape, she fell into an easy rhythm and covered the familiar route without incident

Chapter Two

The dining hall had a familiar hum of indistinct conversations and the delicious smell of fish cooking on the grill, that stirred Dustin’s salivary glands, making his mouth water. He’d have to come back to that; right now he was here to find someone and, sure enough, third table from the front, far left, there he was, with two plates of food in front of him, the first one half gone.

Making his way to the table, Dustin remained silent and standing until Zomes acknowledged him. Dustin.

Zomes. Sorry to bother you at dinner, and it may be nothing, but I didn’t want to wait till morning to report. Dustin scraped the chair out from the table and sat, leaning forward conspiratorily while Zomes continued attacking his meal.

About an hour before my shift ended, I was at the far edge of my territory and I spotted two beasts. At first I didn’t think they’d seen me because they just kept walking in my direction, so I hugged the ground and waited.

Zomes paused mid-chew and looked at Dustin, eyebrows raised.

Well, if they’d crossed into my sector, I was ready to keen for the Guards, but the strangest thing happened. They just stopped, looked at each other, turned around and went back along the same path. Dustin leaned back.

They must have seen you, Zomes offered.

Even if they did, why would that stop them?

Zomes shrugged. Maybe they weren’t hungry and you seemed like too much trouble.

Maybe. Dustin pushed his chair back, preparing to stand. I got the feeling they were checking our borders.

Don’t be ridiculous; that’s tactical thinking and they aren’t capable of that. You still did the right thing reporting the sighting; the Monroes are going to want to know. Zomes set down his fork and brushed his hands together. By the way, I’ve received a message from the Council, saying you are to meet with them tomorrow morning in their chambers.

The Monroes? Dustin stammered. Of course. Um, do you know why?

Before your shift, you and Semda report to Council chambers. That’s all I know. With that, Zomes resumed his eating.

Standing, Dutin said, I’ll be there. Thanks.

Working his way back to the kitchen to get some dinner for himself, Dustin saw Semda waving in his direction. Dustin nodded, but pointed to the food and loaded up his plate before heading over.

Well? Semda’s smiling face greeted him. What do you think it’s about, this meeting?

I’m not so sure it’s something to smile about. Dustin took the chair beside Semda, so he could see the center of the room.

Why not? Have you gotten yourself into trouble? Semda chuckled. Like that would ever happen.

No, but the last time the Council summoned me, it was to babysit a group of Keeners just brought in from the city. Half of them were crying and the other half were fighting with each other. Dustin stabbed a piece of fish. I don’t want to do that again.

Well, no matter what the assignment, it’s pretty exciting we’re the ones the Monroes called for, don’t you think? Semda asked.

True, but I’ll still wait and see what it’s about before I smile. Dustin grinned broadly at Semda and laughed.

The Council chambers were in the back of Glendon Monroe’s manor. There was as grand an entrance at the back as there was in the front. Square white pillars framed the double wood doors, highlighting the stained glass Monroe insignia above them.

There was no equal to this house anywhere in the Collective.

Semda and Dustin arrived promptly at sunbreak, and waited patiently to be invited in. Eventually, Pailler, messenger for the Council, opened the doors and escorted them through the granite foyer into the chamber room. Around the heavy, rough hewn table were five chairs, the center one, containing Glendon Monroe, was larger than the rest. Three of the remaining four chairs were occupied, but Dustin had no illusions the empty seat was for him or Semda.

Glendon’s smile pulled at the scar near the left corner of his mouth, drawing it down instead of up. The shiny, smooth red skin, caused by a brush fire in his youth, always made him look angry.

Good morning, Keeners. You have important work to do today, so we’ll get right to it.

Monroe flicked his fingers toward the occupant of the chair beside him. Nikon, first Council Member, straightened his back and cleared his throat.

Ah yes, well, we have some very exciting news for all residents of the Monroe Collective. Our engineers have devised a machine that, if successful…

One of Monroe’s hands thumped on the table.

Which, of course, we know it will be, Nikon added quickly. It’s called…The Gyrowave. Within seconds of powering up, it can produce an ultrasonic shockwave of enormous force, felt up to a quarter mile away. Of course, the closer to the machine, the stronger the effect. Nikon was attempting to demonstrate the action by gesturing with his thin arms.

Dustin shifted his weight to his other foot, wondering where this was going.

If Shadowbeasts are spotted in the field, instead of drawing the creatures back to the city for the Guard to take care of, the Keeners can activate this weapon and get rid of them out there. Isn’t that wonderful? The Councillor was standing now, leaning forward expectantly, practically clapping in his enthusiasm.

Dustin and Semda looked at each other quizzically, then at Monroe, who sighed deeply and said.

What Master Nikon is trying to say is that you two are to take this weapon with you today and give it a try.

Give it a try? Dustin queried. "How, sir?

The word try should be self-explanatory. You are to go as far as you need to, find a Shadowbeast and shoot it with this machine, Monroe answered simply.

Even if it isn’t coming toward the city? Semda asked. Dustin discreetly brushed his arm to quiet him.

I don’t care if it’s headed in the other direction, son, I’ve wasted enough time and assets dealing with these things. They are too stupid to realize we are the superior force and this should finally convince them to either stay away or suffer the consequences. Monroe’s voice was more like a snarl now.

I understand, sir, and when this shockwave hits the beast, they’ll be knocked out?

Nikon jumped up again. Well, that’s the thing, given the size of a Shadowbeast and depending on the distance. the weapon should be able to shove it off its feet. His shoulders shrugged. If it’s a little closer, or farther, who knows. That’s why we need preliminary tests, but our engineers are fairly certain the wave will even be strong enough to knock them out. Nikon flopped back into his chair out of breath.

Glendon Monroe’s chair scraped back loudly as he got up. Clasping hands behind him, he rolled his head back and hissed an exasperated sigh. Slowly, he ambled his way around the long table, stopping in front of the Keeners. Dustin was startled by the power wafting off the man and involuntarily took a step back. He has been alive for generations, ever since he discovered the life-sustaining Elixir and ran his collective with a fair, but iron hand.

It’s heartwarming for me to know my Keeners are fulfilling their duties so well and willingly. You are two of my best and I chose you because you are quick. If something unexpected should go wrong, you should be able to get back here unharmed. But I’m certain things will be fine and I’ll be waiting anxiously for a full report. Monroe made a shooing motion. Pailler will take you to the weapon and get you set up.

Dustin and Semda dipped their heads, then followed Pailler out of the room.

Chapter Three

Meandre’d planned on talking to Zomes the