Seeded



  GET YOUR FREE EBOOK!

  Seeded

  Benjamin Descovich

  Published by

  Benjamin Descovich

  ISBN 978-1-311-25185-5

  Copyright 2014 Benjamin Descovich

  License notes:

  Cover Image Seeds to the Earth by Sean McGrath is licensed under CC BY 2.0 modified with title text.

  Reproduction of this publication is prohibited without written consent from the Author.

  I appreciate that you are taking the time to enjoy my work and would love it if you left a review where you made your purchase. Tell your friends and family about it too. Every voice strengthens the choir.

  Thank you for your support.

  To the seeds of the future.

  For Ignazio.

  Shine brighter than the Sun.

  Five years travelling faster than light in a colony transport goes slower than you think, but the credits are worth it. Captain Ona and her crew are ready to collect a tidy sum for delivering the Flock to Paradise. On the cusp of seeding the colony, they encounter a force that will forever change them. This is what happens when science collides with fantasy.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Half a Billion

  Tomorrow was the big day for Captain Ona and her crew. After initiating the colonisation protocols, they would be very rich indeed. Their cargo may be raving cultists, but they were wealthy raving cultists who would have no need of their credits once they reached their made-to-order Paradise. Captain Ona was very amenable to assist them in the lightening of their economic burden.

  Half a billion credits on acceptance of the consignment and half again on delivery; it was a dream job worth the long haul. Five years in warp and the FTL drives had only required minor maintenance. Of course a few bots would have done the job for nothing if given the chance at freedom, but these cultists weren’t great supporters of robot rights. They pitched their tents with the ‘flesh is best’ camp. If it meant her crew got rich from their ignorance, so be it; she’d take their credits without complaint.

  The ship’s computer broadcast a sound bite of a wailing nasal child. “When’s dinner gonna be ready?”

  Yoni, her junior tech, had a lame sense of humour and routinely hacked the ship’s broadcast files for his petty amusements. She let most of his antics go only because the kid was a bored genius and needed an outlet. The rest of the crew didn’t mind so much, apart from Drensel, her second in charge, who wanted him disciplined for the trivialities. If all of her crew were like Drensel, morale would have peaked when every bit of metal was polished enough to see his reflection.

  The crew left their terminals and lined up to select their rations from the dispenser. All of course, except Yoni.

  “Come on Yoni, grab it while it’s hot,” joked Thia, the crew’s self-appointed mistress of acquisitions and supply.

  “The things I’d do for a real, hot meal,” said Coraki, chewing on a cube of protein. “My mycoprocessor back home—”

  “Can make the best steaks this side of anywhere,” said Nathis and Thia in unison, finishing Coraki’s most repeated story.

  Thia clapped Coraki on the back with the good-natured gusto of a friend happy to inflict a touch more pain than necessary. “How many times have you said that in the last five years? Do you have to torture us with it again on the night before we hit it big?”

  “We still have to get him home,” said Nathis, dependable for his “cup quarter-full” logic.

  Drensel chopped up his red jelly with a spoon, the dessert now a massacre. “When those credits come through, and these crack pots are safe on their freshly minted heaven-on-a-rock, I’m calling an Intercept to ferry me straight to the Neo Strip.”

  “You’ll blow it all in one night,” said Coraki, the lead tech and numbers man. “That’s a terrible plan.”

  “Or maybe I’ll win big and you can suck a fresh dump.” Drensel pointed his finger in Coraki’s face, military tattoos rippling under the hirsute landscape of his arms.

  Captain Ona intervened to lighten the mood. “Unfortunately that’s what we’ve all been doing since day one in this can. Let’s try not to think about the money until our job is done. Give me your final reports. Drensel?”

  “No change. The ship is secure with one hundred percent integrity.”

  “Nathis, what’s our tally?”

  “The Flock remains stable. Deaths remain at twelve from six thousand, we’re easily within the parameters of our contract.”

  “They still have to survive deployment and arousal.”

  Yoni sniggered, fingers still dancing undeterred across his terminal. “Gets me every time you say that, Captain.”

  Nathis went on, ignoring Yoni’s juvenile interruption. “Standard drop and splashdown stats have us within our limits, I predict a total loss of life reaching no more than one percent.”

  “Thia?”

  “All supplies in target range for course set. Algal tanks and myco vats are at capacity and reserves are prepped for deployment with the Flock.”

  “Coraki?”

  “The genetic protocols for the organisms requested have been uploaded to the primary databank - checked and double checked. Yoni and I have also duplicated the protocols on to the secondary databank and the ship is ready for all contingencies.”

  “All?”

  “Yes, Ma’am, including failed entry.”

  “Yoni?”

  Yoni grabbed a segment of his display and brought it to the table. “There! I’ve finished it.” The display showed the target planet and the title Oranica, by Yoni.

  “What the hell have you been up to this time?”

  “Glad you asked.” Yoni expanded the holodisplay and began running a demonstration complete with heroic music and rotating three dimensional mockups of fantastic and monstrous lifeforms. “I’ve re-calibrated the biosynthesiser protocols and overlaid a delicious bit of coding to make the most immersive fantasy world ever!”

  The Captain’s face gathered thunder and Coraki was quick to ease her concerns. “This is a separate protocol, created on the tertiary databank. It’s merely a simulation he has been working on to while away the time.”

  “You did all this yourself? The genetics of these creatures, how did you manage—”

  “Oh, it’s not that hard. The ship did most of the work extrapolating the permutations and combinations of the genetic materials we have in stock. It didn’t all gel at first and then I had a brainwave and added the stock in stasis.”

  “The Flock?”

  “And us too! Amazing isn’t it. Look what you can create.” Yoni flipped through an alphabetised catalogue of his creations, expanding favourites as he went. “I’ve got dwarves and elves, ogres and orcs, all the classic humanoid races. And check this out; gargoyles, ghouls, griffons. This tech is brilliant.”

  Drensel stood up from the table. “What a waste of time! Who’s up for a game of cards?”

  “No, no, just give me a sec. I made this guy special for you, Drensel.” Yoni darted his fingers across a display and a hulking dragon appeared before them. “That’s you! Combined with a few other things of course, but I morphed as much of your tissue as possible. Do you like it?”

  Drensel stared up at the slowly spinning holograph. It was all claws and fangs with wings that out-spanned their solar array and a scaled hide that would make a capital ship’s hull look thin.

  “You named it after me?”

  “Well, it does have your DNA.”

  “Are there others like it?”

  “I’ve processed all sorts of subspecies, but this, Drensel, is the toughest by far.”

  Drensel began opening data panels, examining the protocols that would make him a dragon.

  The Captain left him to fawn over his dragone
sk reflection and pulled Yoni to the side. “You’re too smart for your own good, kid. When this job is done, the universe is yours; we’ll all be working for you.”

  “Thanks, Captain. Glad you liked it.”

  “I didn’t say that. Keep an eye on the time; lights out in an hour. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”