Species Traitor: A Science Fiction Dystopian Novel by Kate Mary (universal ebook reader .TXT) 📗

My sister nodded, her gaze moving left. Toward downtown. “I was going to meet a few friends.”

“You should get going,” I said. “You don’t want to keep them waiting.”

Lena took a step backward, her eyes back on me. “If you see Ione, tell her I said hi.”

She’d never be enough of a rebel to go into the District herself, but that didn’t mean Lena didn’t care, so I gave her a smile and nodded. “I’ll tell her.”

Her head bobbed once, making her dark curls bounce. When she turned and scampered off, I couldn’t help remembering how she’d looked when she was little, skipping down the sidewalk like she didn’t notice the poverty surrounding us. Not anymore. These days, Lena always noticed.

I stayed where I was, watching until she was swallowed up by the mass of bodies on the sidewalk. It was a long walk to downtown from our house—not that it mattered to me since I rarely traveled farther than a five-mile radius encircling my neighborhood and place of employment—but she was used to it by now. Lena was a frequent visitor of the nicer, richer neighborhoods in the city, and if I had anything to say about it, one day she’d live there.

I headed in the opposite direction as soon as she’d disappeared, using my elbows to push through the dense crowd. When I reached the end of the block, I paused. Here I had to cross the street, which was no easy task. People zigzagged between autos and motobikes, weaving their way through traffic so they could reach the other side, and I did the same, holding my heavy bags tight against my body as I squeezed between a couple vehicles, both of which blared their horns. I ignored them and darted behind a motobike whose driver was screaming at the auto in front of him to get out of the way—as if it could go anywhere.

It was one of the reasons I didn’t mind being too poor to own an auto or motobike. Thanks to severe overcrowding, trying to get through the city on anything but foot was pointless—which was another reason people hated the Veilorians. The District, although on the edge of the city, took up five square miles of land that could have been used for humans, but was instead wasted on the aliens most people still referred to as visitors even though they’d been here for almost twenty-two years. Personally, I couldn’t imagine five extra miles would do us much good, not with the city as crowded as it was, but you couldn’t reason with some people. A fact I was more than aware of.

Once I was safely across the street, I loosened my grip on the bags. One was mine, which I usually carried when I left the house, but the heavy one was Ione’s. My cousin, who had been planning this elopement for months, had stashed as many personal items as she could in my room, knowing her parents would never let her back in the house once they learned what she’d done. Helping my cousin had been a no-brainer, but I’d still tried to talk her out of marrying Rye—as much as I hated to admit it. Not because I thought the Veilorians were animals the way a lot of humans did, but because I knew it would rip her out of my life. She’d been adamant, though, refusing to even discuss it. I couldn’t imagine how much she must love Rye if she was willing to give up everything to be with him.

The fence surrounding the District came into view, stretching twenty feet into the air and towering over me, and unlike everyone else crowded on the sidewalk, I slowed. All around me, people sped past like they were in a race. Some even walked faster, acting like they risked catching some incurable disease by being this close to the District. Unlike the people who were averting their eyes as if trying to pretend the fence didn’t exist, I craned my neck as I walked, struggling to see through the occasional gaps.

Originally, the fence had been made of chain link, but over the years the Veilorians had reinforced it as the prejudice and hatred toward them grew. Now the inside was lined with old signs, wood planks, and sheets of rusty metal, which made seeing into their little part of this city nearly impossible. Not that it stopped me from trying. Here and there a gap existed, rewarding my effort with a glimpse of the District. Even so, not a whole lot was visible, and the little bit I could see gave away almost nothing about the people living inside. Not that it mattered. I’d been into the District too many times to count, and in just a few minutes, I’d be there again.

I stopped when I reached the gate, earning glares and curious glances from other humans. One woman even pursed her lips like she was considering spitting—it had happened before—but I refused to allow anyone to intimidate me and met her glare with one of my own. She averted her gaze, shaking her head in obvious disgust as she hurried away. Humans who fraternized with the Veilorians were considered species traitors, a fact I was well aware of thanks to my mom’s frequent rants.

Two soldiers stood sentry at the gate, and the one on the right gave me a cold look when I stopped in front of him and lifted his pulse rifle.

“No loitering.”

He was young, probably only twenty, and good-looking with dark hair that was barely visible beneath his helmet and pale, green eyes. He must have been newly assigned to the District, because not only had I never seen him before, but the stiff way he held himself told me he was anticipating trouble. Most likely from the Veilorians. The guards who’d been here for a while knew better. The visitors kept to themselves. They didn’t want any trouble, and as