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    Population Morpheus: The Seeder Chapters, #1
    Population Morpheus: The Seeder Chapters, #1
    Population Morpheus: The Seeder Chapters, #1
    Ebook112 pages1 hour

    Population Morpheus: The Seeder Chapters, #1

    By S. G. Basu

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    About this ebook

    Earth has an expiry date. Will humanity survive it?

    C. 2566. The signs are clear. The time to evacuate Earth is now. 
    Summons are sent. But not to everyone. Only a handful will be picked to be part of the future colonies.

    -A gifted teen looks for a way to escape her average life. She gets an offer that is hard to refuse. Will she dare to pay the price?

    -The sole survivor of the worst megatron collapse in history doesn't know what to do-celebrate this second chance at life or become a tool of vengeance?

    -A boy raised within a cocoon of segregation faces his biggest challenge-standing up for someone who looks nothing like him.

    Thrust into an unfamiliar world held in place by a harsh set of rules, will humanity make it?

    Strangers meet. Bargains are made. Only one thing is a given-survival depends on forging the right alliances.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDreamweaver Press
    Release dateJun 4, 2015
    ISBN9781536506433
    Population Morpheus: The Seeder Chapters, #1
    Author

    S. G. Basu

    S.G. Basu is an aspiring potentate of a galaxy or two. She plots and plans with wondrous machines, cybernetic robots, time travelers and telekinetic adventurers, some of whom escape into the pages of her books. Books have been an important part of Ms. Basu's life. Even before she had learned to read on her own, she spent hours wandering in the stories her mother read to her. Soon enough, she was weaving a tapestry of magical tales of her own. Once upon a previous life on planet Earth, S.G. Basu trained to be an engineer, and her interest in science and her love of engineering shows up time and again in her books. She shares her home with a large collection of Legos, a patient husband, and resident inspiration and entertainer, her daughter. Find out more about the futuristic worlds she creates at sgbasu.com.

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      Book preview

      Population Morpheus - S. G. Basu

      One

      Hinata

      It was all because of Artemis. One stupid fish was why I lost it. Alone in my Kubiki, light-years away them, I’m finally free. But why can’t I forget?

      I remember that day like it was yesterday. I remember waking up to the smell of fried eggs and Yonshu bacon; I remember how the air swirled with happiness. Mom was making breakfast that morning, and all was good. Then she left for work and it started to rain.

      For hours the clouds poured on us and by midday, I was tired of skimming through the wavelengths. Bouncing the blue flash ball seemed like the only option I had left. I thought up a simple trick—make the ball hit the wall, let it bounce to the roof, to the other wall, and back to my hand again. It was Chiyo’s naptime, but I was just too bored to care. Not even five minutes had passed when Dad offered to take me to the pet store. I had a reward outstanding for acing my math tests last term. I could’ve just run out with him, but no . . . I had to act nice. I had to ask Chiyo to come along with us.

      No one expected me to be nice to her, least of all Dad. He knew I could be nasty when it came to Chiyo, my twin sister. Although he always cast this tired, disappointed look at me whenever I was rude with Chiyo, he never actually said anything to me. Like the time I trashed her color markers because she had written all over my walls. Or the time I hid her audio-streamers for a week, because I couldn’t tolerate her off-key singing anymore. Dad never asked me why when he found her markers in the incinerator or when the streamers fell out of my vest-pack. But every time such a thing happened, he would fuss over Chiyo even more. Chiyo is Daddy’s precious little princess, he would croon. He knew just how to break my heart.

      My mother, the rocket scientist, was smarter. She didn’t even spare a glance. But I figured it out anyway. I didn’t matter as much as my sister did. Chiyo was special; she always needed all the love they could give. And every day they gave her their all.

      The visitors came to our school the week after the pet store fiasco. I was fiddling at the storage bubbles, shoving some reading material in and out without much purpose. My eyes were on the reflector I had fitted inside my bubble, studying the image of mean queen Allyson, my brain whirring in a frenzy to decipher the gossip she was spewing out on the other side of the corridor. They were talking about Ethan, the new exchange student from Territory 42 and I had to find out. I know . . . I was being pretty superficial, but what could I do? Ethan was seriously cute. Not that I would do anything with what I was about to scrape together from Allyson and her gang’s conversation, but reading lips was fun business and, like I said, Ethan was cute.

      He’s synching with the Parkers, Allyson’s perfectly bowed and frosted lips informed. Rosa has a thing, tonight at—

      Attention, students, the loudspeakers bellowed.

      The visitors marched in right after. They wore spiffy suits—all of them. They looked really sore, as if they had just been served a dose of the bitterest Qualihydrone. They didn’t seem very interested in anything, but they sure read the proclamation out loud. Very loud.

      And just like that, my recess’s short-lived peace was gone.

      It was still recess hours when Mr. Rappaport, our principal, marched us, about thirty students in all, into the sports hall and directed us to a section of benches. I was scrunched between a red-faced boy with large round eyeglasses who wrung his hands non-stop and a girl who scribbled and scrawled furiously in a blue journal even through all the commotion.

      What does this mean? the boy with oversized eyeglasses whispered at me. He had the ruddiest cheeks I had ever seen. Why did they round us up?

      I shrugged, slightly irritated. How would I know? Who did he think I was?

      He fixed a beady, worried stare at me. What do they want from us? Who are they anyway?

      I took a deep breath. This was getting really annoying. Some luck I had to get a seat next to this specimen of chattering blob.

      I think we should ask Mr. Rappaport, Chubby Cheeks suggested brightly.

      What a stupid, stupid idea. Like Mr. Rappaport, our principal, would know. Rappy was surrounded by the men in suits, and he looked nervous. Why?

      Hey. Chubby Cheeks nudged me with his chubby arm.

      The nerve! I turned, lips pursed and brows pulled together. My face burned; I must have been flushing brighter than a beetroot.

      Don’t touch me, all right? I hissed.

      I was showering a long, merciless glare on Chubby Cheeks when our principal shouted. Everyone! Attention, please!

      Rappy paused for effect.

      We have some visitors today. They are recruiters from the . . .

      Decima. A good-looking man broke away from the huddle of suits and strutted closer to us.

      "The Decima? Chubby Cheeks said between gulps and grunts. You mean . . . but . . ."

      Even though I didn’t react as ridiculously as the specimen of stupidity sitting next to me, I was stunned just the same. The Decima was part of a super-secret government program. It was a school that recruited the genetic best across the territories and trained them for the Surrogate Project. Only the most perfect would do, nothing less. My school, on the other hand, was genetically average—it sat right in the middle of the curves. Not that I was average by any standards. I could’ve easily gotten into the top schools, but this district had the best care for Chiyo, so obviously Mom and Dad needed to be here. Along with them, I was stuck in this dump of ordinariness.

      "Yes, the Decima." The man walked over to the front row of benches. He had faded blue eyes that reminded me of Chiyo’s. Mine were dark and inky, blessed by Dad’s genes. Chiyo’s were sort of like Mom’s. Chiyo and I were twins, but the girl was nothing like me. We looked different and talked different. They loved us different.

      You’re here to recruit? a boy in a maroon head-wrap asked. "Recruit us?"

      It puzzled the heck out of me too. If what I heard about the Decima was right, then these recruiters had no reason to be at our school. Why bother with a place that had little chance of offering quality products?

      Someone snickered.

      "Like they’re so desperate to take you," someone commented.

      Oh no, not . . . desperate. There’s no particular rush, the recruiter replied, halting a little over the words. We are simply widening our search. You’ve heard the daily proclamations, I’m sure. Our time on Earth is running out fast. We have to find surrogates soon. We have to settle those new worlds quickly. You can imagine, it’s a lot of work. So, we’re looking for volunteers for our program. We’re visiting every school, talking to advanced-level students, hoping they will join the cause.

      What’s in it for us?

      Fame, a chance to set foot where no human has ever been, a chance to challenge your very capable brains. Not too shabby, is it?

      And never see our families again?

      What? Really? I turned to look at who was questioning Mr. Recruiter. It was Ethan—the cute boy from 42.

      Don’t worry. We’ll try our best to make arrangements for your family, Mr. Recruiter tried to reassure. "And think about this: you’ll be doing this for them. Not just them, but for the entire human race. We can’t get everyone off this planet all at once. There’s not enough resource. So, how else can we save the human race?

      "One way is to do it in waves. Right now, we are getting ready to send the first wave of colonizers to the surrogate planets. These people will have a lot on their shoulders. They have to get to the Earth surrogates, colonize them, and create new worlds in the image of our

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