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Book online «Out of Time - Ryan Matthew Harker (short books to read TXT) 📗». Author Ryan Matthew Harker



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FOOTBOUND BEINGS COULD MUSTER, WISDOM PASSED AMONG THE CLANS. AS CONSISTENT OBSERVATIONS MULTIPLIED, THE PEOPLE GATHERED, AND SPREAD THESE FINDINGS ACROSS THE PLAINS LIKE A HOT SUMMER'S PRARIE FIRE. FROM ONE TO DONE, EVERY ORION WHO RETURNED FROM ABDUCTION SUCCUMBED IN LIKE FASHION; ALL STILL ONLY OUR WOMEN AND YOUNG.

IT WAS HERE THE TERRIBLE PLAGUE'S UNPREDICTABILITY ONCE MORE REARED HIGH AND UGLY, OBSCURING OUR VISION OF ALL ELSE, AS THE UNNATURAL AND OFTIMES ERRATIC BEHAVIOUR SO NEWLY EXHIBITED BY OUR WOMEN AND YOUNG BEGAN TO WORSEN FROM A SOCIAL DISTEMPER ON TO EVER VIOLENT ANTI-SOCIAL ACTIONS. AT TIMES THIS TRANSITION HAPPENED QUICKLY WITH MERELY THE PASSAGE OF HOURS BEFORE LUNACY'S TENACIOUS HOLD WAS FIRMLY LATCHED UPON THEIR MINDS, THOUGH FOR OTHERS IT WAS MUCH, MUCH SLOWER. WHAT LITTLE RECORD WAS RETAINED INDICATE SOME AFFLICTED'S TURNING MAY EASILY HAVE SPANNED MANY PASSING SEASONS, AND THEREBY THESE CAN BE SUPPOSED AS FAR THE MORE AGONIZINGLY ENDURED BY THOSE OF US LEFT UNTOUCHED, A LARGELY ADULT MALE POPULATION WHOSE ONLY RECOURSE WAS TO DO NOTHING WHILE THE INSANITY OF THEIR MATES AND OFFSPRING TORE APART A SOCIAL ORDER WHOSE BEGINNINGS WERE BEYOND ANY CLAN'S REMBERANCE.

THERE IS NONE OF MODERN TIME WHO CAN SAY ONE WAY FOR SURE IN ANY INSTANCE.

ANGERED BEYOND ALL REASON BY OUR HELPLESSNESS, WE THE PEOPLE REMEBERED OUR ORIGINAL UNIFIED VOW TO DESTROY THIS ALIEN BLIGHT FROM THE SANCTITY OF OUR WORLD'S DELICATELY BALANCED ECOLOGY. A REMEMBERING SALVAGED FROM A ONCE SEDATE AND UNCHALLENGED CIVILIZATION'S BECOMING EVER DEEPLY WOUNDED BY AN UNCOMPREHENSIBLE AFFRONT, WE NEEDED TO ERRADICATE THIS THREAT BEFORE FURTHER DAMAGE WAS WROUGHT. SO WE UNITED TO RISE UP AGAINST THE PERPETRATORS OF OUR RACIAL DIVISION, THOUGH WE COULD HAVE NO WAY OF KNOWING WAS ALREADY UNSTOPPABLE.

ORGANIZED AND DETERMINED WE HUNTED DOWN ANY OF OUR ANTAGONISTS WHO FOOLISHLY, FEARLESSLY TREKKED ACROSS OUR LANDS. WE RAIDED AND DESTROYED ANY SETTLEMENT OR CAMP THAT, THOUGHTLESS IN THEIR ARROGANT SUPREMACY, OUR ENEMIES ESTABLISHED IN ANY OF OUR PLANET'S FOUR CORNERS. FOR A TIME WE SHELVED THE EVER DEVELOPING RIFT OF CONCIOUSNESS RAVAGING THE MEMBERS OF OUR OWN SPECIES, AND SO TOTALLY WERE WE ENGROSSED IN OUR MISPERCEIVED PROGRESS AGAINST THE RED SHELLED WOULD BE GODS THAT WE DARED NURTURE HOPE OF OUR STRUGGLE'S VICTORY.

BUT OUR EFFORTS WERE INEXTORABLEY DOOMED BEFORE THEY HAD EVEN BEGUN. JUST AS WE WOULD BEGIN TO MAKE NOTICABLE HEADWAY IT WAS AS IF THE UNIVERSE CONSPIRED AGAINST THE ORION CAUSE, REWORKING REALITY UNTIL EVENTS WERE ONCE AGAIN IN FAVOR OF OUR HUMAN ENEMIES. TIME WAS THEIR MASTER, REALITY TIME'S SERVANT, AND THEIR EVERY LOSS WOULD BECOME OURS, OUR EVERY VICTORY WOULD BECOME THEIRS. IT WAS A HARD, COLD TRUTH WE FORCEABLY CAME TO SWALLOW, OUR QUEST TO UPHOLD THE OLD WAY WAS ULTIMATELY INADVERTABLE.

FORCED TO WITHDRAW BEFORE OUR EFFORT'S TOTAL ANHILIATION BY THE TIDAL POWER OF THESE GOD'S UNSPEAKABLEY DARK AND UNSTOPPABLE MAGIC, THERE WAS AT FIRST CONFUSION, FOLLOWED BY THE SHADOW OF DESPAIR. FOR YES, WE REALIZED ALL TOO LATE, THE HUMANS REALLY ARE GODS, AND NOT JUST ANY GODS, BUT FROM THEN ON THEY WERE TO BE OUR GODS. OUR GODS WHO WALLOWED CONTENTEDLY THROUGH THE ASHES OF OUR DEFEAT, OUR NEWLY RECOGNIZED GODS WHO, UNSHAKEN, CONTINUED THEIR SELFISH REWEAVING OF OUR CULTURE INTO A CLOTH OF WHICH OUR FARTHEST REACHING PONDERANCES COULD NEVER HAVE IMAGINED. OUR GODS WHO CONTINUED JUST AS THEY HAD BEFORE. IT WAS AS IF OUR PETTY ATTEMPT AT REVOLUTION HAD NEVER BEEN ATTEMPTED AT ALL.

SO IT WAS THAT MORE AND COUNTING OF OUR WOMEN AND YOUNG WERE TAKEN. THOUGH NOW THAT WE HAD BEEN PROPERLY ENSLAVED OUR ENSLAVERS DIVULGED OUR ABDUCTED LOVED ONES DESTINATION. AFTER BEING SNATCHED FROM THE COMFORT OF OUR LAND'S FIRM BOSSOM THEY ROSE THROUGH THE AIR TO WHERE THE HUMAN'S SACRED PALACE FLOATED IN THE HEAVENS, FAR ABOVE OUR LAND, FAR BEYOND OUR REACH. AS BEFORE, NOT ALL WHO RAPTURED INTO THE UNKNOWN HEAVENS WERE RETURNED. AS BEFORE, THE ONES WHO DID WERE TRANSFORMED INTO ORIONS SAME OF FORM BUT POSSESSED OF NEWLY DEVELOPING DESIRES AND AN UNREASONABLE DISLIKE FOR ANY OF US NOT AS THEY. IN THIS WAY OUR UNCARING NEW GODS HARVESTED THEIR FRUIT GROWN OF SEEDS SO DILIGENTLY SOWN IN THE FIELDS OF OUR PEOPLE'S DECIMATION.

THE VERY ESSENCE OF THIS FRUIT, THE FIRST AND LAST ORION CIVIL WAR BECAME INEVITABLE. WITH A RESIGNATION STEEPED IN A SADNESS DISTILLED FROM THE LAST OF OUR FLEETING HOPE'S SHALLOW GASP FOR LIFE WE FOUGHT TO PRESERVE THE HERITAGE OF OUR ANCESTORS. ALL THE WHILE, FORGOTTEN BUT NOT FORGETFUL, OUR CRUEL HUMAN GODS WATCHFULLY AWAITED THE FALLING OF THE FINAL CURTAIN TO SHROUD THE CORPSE OF OUR FATALLY GENOCIDED CIVILIZATION.

ONE MURDEROUSLY ARDUOUS FIGHT AFTER ANOTHER OUR CIVIL WAR WAS NO SHORT AFFAIR. FOR NEARLY THREE DECADES ANIMALISTIC ORION PROGENITORS FOUGHT THE NEVER SHRINKING, ALWAYS GROWING NUMBERS OF THEIR BIOEVOLVED KINDRED. WHILE THE ORIGINAL CLAN MEMBERSWHO SURVIVED WERE FORCED TO ASSIMILATE INTO FEWER, SMALLER CLANS AS THEIR NUMBERS SHRIVELED AS CONSEQUENCE OF THE CONFLICT, THE POPULATION OF THE HUMAN MODIFIED SUBSPECIES GREW STEADILY AND EXPONENTIALLY. NOT ONLY WERE THEIR NUMBERS REGULARLY SUPPLEMENTED BY NEWLY MODIFIED ADDITIONS CONTINUOUSLY HARVESTED BY THE GODS, BUT EARLY ON THEIR NUMBERS HAD GROWN SO LARGE, SO RAPIDLY THE SUBSPECIES INSTICTUALLY BEGUN DIVIDING INTO CLANS OF THEIR OWN. ALSO, NOT ONLY AS THE YOUNG SUBSPECIES MALES AND FEMALES CAME INTO YOUNG ADULTHOOD AND BEGAN CHOOSING MATES AMOUNG THEMSELVES, THE MALES ALSO BEGAN KIDNAPPING UNMODIFIED FEMALES FROM RECENTLY CONQUERED CLANS. ALREADY THE SUBSPECIES WAS DEVELOPING A CULTURE OF THEIR OWN, A POPULAR PART OF WHICH WAS TO BUILD HAREMS FROM CAPTURED UNMODIFIED WOMEN. EASILY ESTABLISHABLE AS A SIGN OF WEALTH, IT WAS QUICKLY ADOPTED BY THE MORE VISCIOUS LEADERS TO SHOW THEIR STATUS AS CONQUERING CHIEFS OF THEIR CLANS, AND THEIR HAREMS BECAME THE LARGEST AND MOST COVETED OF ANY.

IT WAS FROM THESE UNIONS THAT THE TRUE ORION RACE WAS BORN. NO LONGER A PRIMITIVE, NOMADIC SPECIES WE CAME INTO OUR OWN AS THE PROUD, INTELLIGENT PEOPLE OF THE PRESENT.

AFTER A TIME, PERHAPS BORED WITH OUR EVOLUTIONARY WAR, OUR GODS LEFT US TO OUR FATE. THE WAR LASTED ONE HUNDRED YEARS UN TIL, NOT ABLE TO WHITHSTAND MORE, WHAT WAS LEFT OF THE ORIGINAL CLANS RETREATED INTO THE DESOLATE PLACES NONE WISHED TO GO. MOST BELIEVE THEIR REMENANTS DIED OUT LONG AGO.

FINALLY FREE OF THE BURDEN OF OPPRESSING OUR ANCESTORS, THE NEW AND SUPERIOR ORION RACE WAS ABLE TO CONCENTRATE EXPANDING OUR DOMINION OVER OUR REALITY, STRENGTHENING OUR HOLD ON PLANET, ALL FOR THE MOST IMPORTANT TASK OF BUILDING OUR EMPIRE. FOR THOUSANDS OF YEARS ORIONS TRIVED, OUR PEOPLE MULTIPLYING, LEARNING, EVER EVOLVING.

WE BECAME AN INCREASINGLY RUTHLESS RACE; ONLY THE STRONG SURVIVED. SELECTIVE BREEDING PROGRAMS PRODUCED SMARTER, MORE CUNNING CITIZENS. THOUGH THE ORION PEOPLE DEVELOPED AND ADOPTED TRADITIONAL, VOCAL FORMS OF COMMUNICATION, THE BREEDING PROGRAMS ALSO PRODUCED AN ELITE CLASS, A RULING CLASS WHOSE MORE INTUITIVE COMMUNICATION TALENTS WERE CULTIVATED INTO POWERFUL FORMS OF TRUE TELEPATHY. THESE ELITE, THE KEEPERS, RULE WITH AN IRON FIST.

AS MILLENNIA PAST, HAVING FADED INTO MYTH AND LEGEND, THE GODS WERE ALL BUT FORGOTTEN. WITH ALL WE HAD LEARNED WE LOST THESE, GREAT TRUTHS: WE HAD ONCE BEEN LESS THAN WE NOW ARE, WE OWE ALL WE HAVE TO OTHERS, AND WE ARE SLAVES.

BUT AFTER ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND YEARS THE GODS RETURNED TO REMIND US.

THOUGH OUR RACE HAD GROWN WISE WITH THE WONDERS OF THE UNIVERSE, THOUGH OUR SCIENCE WAS PROUD AND OUR TECHNOLOGIES INCREDIBLE, WE STILL COULD NOT MATCH THE POWER OF OUR CREATORS. NO, NOT AGAINST OUR FORMER AND FOREVER MASTERS, THE RED SHELLED GODS WHO CAN KILL WITHOUT CONTACT. OUR GODS WHO OBEY THE ULTIMATE POWER, THE ONE TRUE GOD, HE WHO IS CREATOR OF ALL, SUPERNATURAL, THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN EYES...

 

“Darnit!” I slam my empty glass down. I wish I were drunker so this horrible and sad tale doesn't make sense. If I curse being such a lush.

“What are you yelling about?” Sammi looks disheveled and in about the same condition I'd been in upon waking.

An eye on my empty glass I stand and say, “Come on, I'll make you some breakfast and tell you all about it.”

Eagerly wolfing down a breakfast sandwich Sammi declines a whiskey of her own. However I get a refill and proceed telling her what I've just learned of ORion history.

“It's so hard to believe.” She licks grease from here fingers.

“Yeah, I didn't read anything else to confirm it, but it can't be coincidence.” Yep. Sip. Savor. Swallow. Swallow. Swallow. Screw responsible drinking.

“It's hard to believe,” Sammi repeats. “Ras is the one who made the Wolfmen who are after you. They're trying to stop you because if they don't you'll stop their whole race from existing.” She licks her fingers again. “Wow.”

“Hrumph, I'm tearing up just thinking about it.” I can't really drum up any sympathy for a bunch of space dogs who tried to lobotomize me. I pound the remainder of my whiskey and order up another. “I'm gonna go finish my history lesson. We have to be sure about this before we act.”

“10-4.” Sammi eyes my glass. “You've been up longer than me I'll make you some lunch and bring it to you.”

Yeppie, she's a sly minx, but at least she doesn't nag me. I raise my glass in assent and mosey back to the bridge.

 

It's official, Ras used his Zenociders to subdue the ORions, he genetically modified their DNA, then he set himself up as God- Their One and Only.

Wolman always gave me a bad feeling, but Jesus, the doucher was lying and trying to manipulate me the whole time. How dare he lay that trip on me, trying to pin the destruction of humanity squarely on my shoulders. What a Richard.

Roast beef piled high with baby spinach, tomato, red onions, and Swiss on dark rye toast. A side of homemade potato salad and a tall glass of ice cold milk. I polish off the lunch Sammii brings me before disappearing back into the galley. I drain the last drop of milk, look from that empty glass to my empty whiskey glass. I believe I've had enough alcohol for the time being but could definitely go for another glass of milk. I buss my dishes back to the galley.

“It's official,” I announce, dumping my dishes in the dishwasher. “Ras is God and the ORions his disciples.

I refill my milk glass and Sammi nods her approval. “So what are we going to do?”

Leaning back on the counter I chug my dairy, refill the glass again , and take a swallow. “I'm thinking, unless otherwise hindered by the bastards, we can pretty much ignore the ORions for now and concentrate on Ras. We take him out and, by proxy, we take them out.”

“You make it sound easy.”

“Patty cake, patty cake, babe.” I drink some more milk.

Sammi looks at me sideways. “What are you talking about?”

Milk gone, glass in washer. “Never mind. There's another idea I have to check on. Dinner smells great!” I give her a kiss and back to the bridge I go.

 

An hour on the bridge and tension's are running high.

“No!” DOM bellows. “I refuse to share my circuitry with your bastardization of ORion technology!”

“actually, from what I've read, SEAID technology was given to the ORions by Ras; a human who, as my understanding has it, ursurped it from his robot administrators, and God only knows where they got it from,” I counter the AI's tantrum, trying to remain calm. “So really, Khronos is practically family. He's like your step brother.”

You're just trying to use him to hack my neuro-net!” DOM wails.

“I would never do that,” Khronos defends himself.

“You would if Davey told you to,” DOM protests. “For all I know he already did.”

“No, I did not, DOM.”

“He did not,” Khronos agrees.

“Look, DOM, this isn't going to work if you don't agree to it. How about I give you some time to think about it? I'll even leave Khronos here on the bridge. You guys can talk, get to know each other a bit. Whadda ya say?”

A brief

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