CHAPTER 1
A ngelo Thirteen rolled the stone in his palm, but its smooth, cool surface couldn’t calm his racing heart. He was almost to the planet Iridis, almost free. A sense of giddiness lightened his chest as he studied his precious piece. Silver lines in the stone’s crevasses refracted the spaceship’s artificial light, sending a cascade of brilliant radiance against the ship’s console. With a fevered intensity he clasped his fingers around his lucky rock, the one that helped him escape Earth’s oppressive, tyrannical rule.
A soft, electronic ping returned his attention to his pilot duties. He glanced at the vid-monitor. The screen displayed a red world, swirling dust storms raging its surface. His new home. Angelo Thirteen’s breath caught in his throat, and he kissed the rock before placing his prize on the ship’s console.
“Arriving within Iridis’s orbit in eighteen minutes, thirty seconds.” Mortimer’s deep voice resonated through the cockpit. The ship’s computer was as much a part of the crew as the terraformers in the central bay.
“Setting coordinates for a rendezvous with the base colony now.” Chad Seven, the ship’s co-pilot, swiped his fingers across the screen, his deep blue eyes void of emotion.
Angelo Thirteen’s pulse pounded in his ears. Didn’t his co-pilot have any sense of wonder? No. That was a forbidden emotion.
In 2364, hatred, bitterness, and prejudice started the Last War, culminating in a biological attack that left few survivors on Earth. Out of the aftermath, the remaining leaders joined forces and created The Accord which laid down several laws, including the suppression of all emotions. To replenish the diminished population, the members of The Accord cloned themselves, each identical replica receiving a successive number.
Angelo Thirteen touched the tattoo on his cheek, the one just under his eye. The raised numbers one and three, rough against his skin, forever marked him. He ground his teeth.
At age twenty-eight, he was one in a long line of Angelo clones bearing the same dark brown hair, brown eyes, and consistent five-o’clock-shadow stubble. Like those before him, he was conditioned not to feel, not to express emotions. Although he didn’t know what made him different, he longed to be an individual.
Angelo Thirteen leaned back in his chair. Cold, bitter steel from the chair’s neck rest grazed against his skin. Goosebumps formed along his nape. He wiped his fingers over the lumps and flicked a small switch, opening a ship-wide channel. “Everyone, this is your pilot Angelo Thirteen. We are approaching Iridis’s orbit. Prepare to disembark in thirty minutes.”
As pilot of Wanderer, his responsibility was to transport eight terraformers, water creation equipment, and food and medical supplies to Iridis. Fortunately, Iridis offered Angelo Thirteen an opportunity. Not only had he collected the unusual stone from Chad Seven in a poker match, he’d also won his co-pilot’s lottery ticket, the one for the job of maintenance technician on the base.
Good thing Angelo Thirteen met the requirements—three years in the shipyards and two years in The Bungalow, the electronics academy. But there was a catch. If Angelo Thirteen didn’t perform to standards, he’d be shipped back to Earth with its restrictive, emotionless rules. A chill ran over his arms.
He shut off the link, picked the stone off the console and glanced at his co-pilot.
Chad Seven raised his chin. “I’d like the chance to win back my stone.”
Angelo Thirteen repressed a smile. “I rather like the bauble. Which planet did you say it came from again?”
“Transinia, in the Cassiopeia constellation. I won it in a poker game from a Trolog. He wasn’t happy to lose.”
“I’ll bet. Perhaps you’ll get your chance later, but for now, I’m keeping it.” Angelo Thirteen raised the stone to the light, entranced as the fine flecks of silver shimmered. With a quick move, he pocketed his treasure and pointed at the bags of coffee under Chad Seven’s seat. “Besides, you still owe me from the last game. If I liked coffee, I’d take some of that in payment.”
“Fat chance. This is the best coffee in the galaxy. By the way, I had to relieve my pent-up frustration in one of the copulation clubs because I lost to you.” Chad Seven’s eyes darkened. His lip curled at the corner for a brief moment before his face resumed his stoic pose. “They know me well there.”
Angelo Thirteen swallowed through his tight throat. Everyone was required to attend a copulation club on a regular basis as the government feared without the sexual outlet overwhelming emotions could lead to another war. At least sexually transmitted diseases and pregnancy were no longer an issue due to medical advances and egg harvesting. The copulation clubs were a means to an end, but he longed for something more, something special, intimate, and enduring. He longed to experience love.
Chad Seven coughed. “When was the last time you went to one?”
Angelo Thirteen tensed, the muscles in his shoulders clenching beneath his shirt. He forced a shrug. “A few months ago. I go once in a while.” Only to avoid hitting the government’s radar for non-attendance.
“Come with me next time. I’ll introduce you to some of the regulars.” Chad Seven’s lip twitched ever so slightly.
“Naw, man. I’ll pass.”
“Suit yourself.” Chad Seven gripped his liquid container. The smooth, semi-sheer material expanded, molding to his palm. “Before we transport the passengers and materials to the surface, I need to refill my coffee cup. I’d ask if you want any, but…”
Angelo Thirteen shook his head. “Just be back in time. We enter Iridis’s orbit in ten minutes. I don’t want to do this on my own.”
Wanderer was built as several detachable pods all linked together, each one a separate room. Fortunately, the galley was in the adjacent pod.
Chad Seven stood, placed his hands on the small of his back, and stretched. Joints popped loud in the enclosed space. He gave a quick nod, ran his hand through his short blond hair, and exited through the small hatch. His steps echoed down the hall. As with all the rooms in Wanderer, the imitation gravity field kept them grounded.
Alone for the moment, Angelo Thirteen glanced at Iridis in the vid-monitor. His heart expanded. How he longed to be free, allowed to settle on this new planet, one without Earth’s oppressive rules. Here, the residents had established their own government, The Coalition. Emotions were not only allowed, but welcomed. A sense of giddiness overwhelmed him. He couldn’t wait to land.
Angelo Thirteen tapped his finger against his armrest and peered at the digital display. Five minutes had passed since his co-pilot left to refill his coffee cup.
A sense of unease rippled over his shoulders. “C’mon, Chad Seven, where are you?”
“Entering Iridis’s atmosphere.” Mortimer’s deep voice broke through the silence. “Unidentified object in flight path. Suggest evasive—”
A firm shudder vibrated through Wanderer.
The ship lurched, rolling into a forty-five degree angle.
Angelo Thirteen careened from his chair and skidded across the cold metal floor. His shoulder crashed into the bulkhead. Pain radiated down his arm.
Flashing lights lit up the console.
The shrill peal of an alarm filled the air.
Down the hall, screams echoed from the passengers.