Species Traitor: A Science Fiction Dystopian Novel Read online

  Species Traitor

  Book One

  Kate L. Mary

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Kate L. Mary

  About the Author

  Prologue

  I was young when they arrived, only three years old, but the events of that day have been forever tattooed on my mind. I could still feel the surge of the crowd, hear the murmur of voices, remember the rush of excitement as the moment drew near. It had seemed as if everyone in the city was gathered on the street, and I was cuddled between my parents, desperately trying to keep warm as the sky above us slowly darkened and the stars began to twinkle. They were bright and cheerful looking compared to the blackness surrounding us, and the way they popped up one by one, turning the night sky into a canvas of beauty, had made it seem like I was watching hope manifest right in front of my eyes. Or at least that was how I’d remember feeling years later when I looked back on it all.

  We weren’t waiting for them—at least we hadn’t known we were—but the excitement swelling through the crowd when it started seemed almost electric. The way it had hummed, the way it had risen with the chatter before tapering off as people stopped to stare, awed by the sight.

  It started as a single streak of light cutting across the distant sky but was quickly followed by another only a few seconds later. Around me, people pointed as sounds of wonder rose, and my father lifted me onto his shoulders while my mother clung to his arm, her smile as bright as the stars above.

  Before long, the lights began coming faster, dragging tails behind them as they shot across the blackness, headed for some distant piece of Earth. One after the other, they plummeted as a hush fell over the crowd. I was as quiet as everyone else, my chubby face turned toward the sky. My dark hair had escaped the braid my mother carefully crafted earlier in the day, and it tickled my face as a cool breeze blew. I could remember the way the night air chilled my nose until the tip felt like an ice cube, and how my ears began to ache. I could also remember not caring even a little, but instead focusing on the bursts of light as they grew bigger and closer together, illuminating the sky in a way I’d never seen before.

  It happened at the peak of the meteor shower. A ball of light bigger and brighter than all the others streaked across the sky, drawing everyone’s attention. It seemed to grow in size as it did, and I watched in awe, imagining it was headed my way and that if I just held my hand out, I’d be able to catch it and take it home.

  It got larger—much too big to catch—and brighter. People began to shift, my mother and father included. A hum moved through the crowd, the tone different than the one from before. My father reached for me, pulling me from his shoulders as people began to move. Slowly at first, but then faster as the light grew closer and closer. My three-year-old mind registered what was happening, and I knew the crowd had begun to move, but I wasn’t paying attention to what they were doing. I was too focused on the light as it grew with each passing second.

  It was coming our way.

  Shouts erupted, and people began to run. I heard my mother scream, and my father’s grip tightened as he pressed me against his chest while panic surged around us like a swarm of desert bugs. Someone was crying, and there was shouting. People were pushing and shoving, but my father hadn’t moved. Not even when my mother yelled for him to go. Like me, he was transfixed, and in that moment, it felt as if we were the only two people in the city who truly understood that everything was about to change.

  Then, with no warning at all, the light stopped.

  It was close, just outside the city, and it was blinding now, bright with pulsing lights and energy that made the hairs on my arms stand on end. The crowd had begun to settle as they realized they weren’t about to be pounded into oblivion by a meteor, because this thing, this ball of light hanging over us, was no meteor at all. It was something else.

  It began a slow descent, the glow it emitted dimming as it did until its shape finally came into view. It was oval and silver, smooth but with grooves that even my young brain could register were openings.

  “Spaceship,” I said, pointing to the object as it hovered over the ground.

  “Yes,” my dad replied, his voice full of awe.

  The thing touched down, and beneath my father’s feet, the ground shuddered from the impact. Gasps of shock and panic rolled through the crowd, my mother’s cries joining them, but my father didn’t react. He held me, his arms around my small body and our cheeks nearly touching as we focused on the sight.

  “Watch, Ava,” he whispered, just loud enough for me to hear. “What you’re seeing is a miracle. It’s going to change everything about your life, I promise. One day you’ll remember this moment and know this was the day your life started for real.”

  I turned to look at him, taking in his expression of wonderment, a look that years later I’d treasure as the only time I truly got to see who my father was.

  “What about you, Daddy?” I asked.

  He tore his gaze from the spacecraft and focused on me. “Yes, baby. Yes. This moment is going to change everything.”

  He had no idea how right he was.

  Chapter One

  Almost twenty-two years later…

  “A bird and a fish can fall in love, but where will they live?”

  My mother had spat those ridiculous words at me so many times over the years they’d lost all meaning. Assuming they’d ever had any real meaning to begin with, something I’d never been totally convinced of.

  “Are you listening to me, Ava?” Mom’s words snapped across the room and wrapped around me like a lasso, forcing me to pay attention.

  She stood on the other side of our small, dark kitchen, giving me a sharp and punishing look. It was an expression I was used to, and one that had grown increasingly severe over the years as bitterness took over and she came to accept that this was her lot in life. This small, shabby house where she lived off whatever scraps the government could afford to throw her way. Two daughters and no money—not to mention no husband—and no hope of ever attaining the dreams she’d once had.

  I vaguely remembered a time when she’d smiled and tickled me, when I’d been surrounded by laughter, but it was so long ago now that the memories were like an echo on the verge of fading away. Faint and fleeting, and almost unreal. As if I’d imagined it all.

  She was a hard woman now, and not just on the inside. Her frown lines, deeper than I’d ever seen them, seemed permanently etched on her face, making her look like she was scowling even on the rare occasions when she wasn’t. Her body, too, was hard. Thin and frail, her collarbones appeared to be on the verge of ripping through her skin, and whenever she stood the way she was now—hands resting on her hips—her elbows appeared to be straining to break free. The stance also made her arms look like bony little win
gs, as if she was the bird in the silly little proverb she loved to throw in my face.

  “I’m not talking for my health,” she said when I didn’t respond to her ridiculous question. “This is for you. So you understand how serious the situation is.”

  “I’m listening,” I mumbled, turning my gaze to the slimy bowl of breakfast grains sitting in front of me.

  It had cooled and congealed into a sticky lump even more unappetizing than it had been when I first sat down, and even though my stomach had been growling before, Mom’s lecture had turned my insides into an intricate web of knots that made eating impossible. The food was now about as appealing as a bowl of glue.

  Sitting across from me at the small table, Lena rolled her eyes as she bit back a laugh. It would have been nice to be able to smile about the situation, but to me it was no laughing matter. How my younger sister could muster a grin was beyond me. Even after a lifetime of being surrounded by it, I couldn’t get used to the hate. It didn’t make sense, not when there was no reason for it. At least none I could wrap my brain around.

  “What your cousin did to her family.”

  My mother had turned back to the counter and was now scrubbing it like she was trying to wear a hole in the surface, her narrow, bony hips wiggling from the forcefulness of the gesture. If she wasn’t careful, she might be successful. Then where would we be? It wasn’t like we had the money to fix the kitchen.

  “Shameful,” she continued to mutter under her breath.

  Getting into this debate again was pointless, and I knew it, but I couldn’t stop myself. Not when I felt the injustice of the whole thing deep in my bones. Not when, for the first time, it was so personal.

  “She fell in love,” I said just loud enough that my mother could hear me.

  She whipped around, her stringy salt and pepper hair falling over her face. When she shoved it out of her eyes, I cringed at the violence of the gesture but did my best to keep my back straight and meet her gaze instead of shrinking away from the outrage radiating off her.

  “Fell in love?” She hissed the last word like the very utterance would get her arrested, and based on the way it made her face scrunch up, I got the impression it left a bitter taste in her mouth. “Ava Marie Mendoza, did I hear you correctly? Did you just spout that insanity in my house?”

  Lena sank lower in her chair as if trying to hide, and I couldn’t help feeling a little satisfied that the smile had been wiped off her face. For once.

  I sat up straighter, lifting my chin so Mom would know I wasn’t ashamed of how I felt or afraid of her fury. My trembling legs contradicted me, but since the table hid them from view, I was the only one privy to that little tidbit.

  “I did. Ione didn’t do anything wrong. She met a guy and fell in love. It’s the natural order of the world, Mom. What’s the big deal?”

  “What’s the big deal?” There she went again, over pronouncing her words as if it would help me understand. It wouldn’t. Nothing would. “She fell in love with one of them. With a Veilorian. Do you have any idea what this has done to your aunt and uncle? They can’t even hold their heads up! Ione has ruined them!” Mom waved the dishcloth in my direction, and little beads of water pinged against the table in front of me. “And you’re to have nothing more to do with her, do you hear me? She is no longer part of this family.”

  Lena sat up straight, her big, brown eyes widening, but she said nothing. She never did when it came to our mother, choosing instead to stay quiet and keep the peace. It was why she was the favorite while I was pretty sure my mother couldn’t stand me.

  “I’m not going to cut her off,” I said. “She’s my cousin!”

  Mom took a step toward me, and Lena pressed her lips together, giving me a look I recognized. She was telling me to stay quiet. To let it go. She had to know I wouldn’t, because I never did. It wasn’t in me to keep my mouth shut when I felt strongly about something.

  “You will cut her off, do you understand? She made her choice when she decided to elope with a Veilorian. She chose an alien, an unwanted visitor on this planet, over her own family. She knew the consequences, and yet she chose him anyway.” Mom turned back to the counter and started scrubbing again, harder than before, and her whole body shook, either from her anger or the force of her scrubbing. “I can’t believe it. Can’t understand how she could do this to her family. How could anyone?”

  She was talking to herself now, mumbling as she wiped at the counter and no longer looking at me. I took the opportunity to stand, grabbing the two book bags off the floor at my feet as I did. Even when the legs of my chair scraped against the cracked vinyl floor, Mom didn’t look my way. She was too busy talking to herself. If I made my escape now, she wouldn’t even notice.

  As if the same thought was going through her head, Lena followed my lead and jumped up, and together we hurried from the room.

  I stepped outside and sucked in a deep breath the second the door was shut, inhaling a mouthful of blistering air in hopes of calming my pounding heart. Even thick with the smells of the city—burning fuel, garbage, and pollution—it felt refreshing compared to the stifling kitchen I’d just fled. Hate had a smell, I decided. It was bitter and toxic, and it didn’t just invade your senses, it soaked into your pores and poisoned all of you. Your brain, your blood, your heart. My mom had allowed it to destroy her years ago, but I wouldn’t, couldn’t, let it claim me.

  “Are you going to cut Ione out of your life?” Lena asked.

  “Of course not,” I snapped as I pulled the book bag straps higher on my shoulder, their heaviness digging into my skin, and let out a deep sigh. Taking my frustrations out on Lena wasn’t going to help anything. Plus, she didn’t deserve it. “Sorry. I’m just irritated by the whole situation.”

  My sister only nodded in response.

  It was late morning, and the road in front of us was busy with activity as people headed to work or downtown to enjoy their Sunday. Autos and motobikes hovered a foot above the crowded street, bumper to bumper and barely making progress on their daily commutes. Every few seconds, a horn blared, the beeps bouncing off the closely packed buildings lining the street until the noise felt never-ending. Like the road, the sidewalks were bursting with activity.

  The whole city was crowded, and even the dwindling birthrates and drop in life expectancy couldn’t fix that—not when most of the planet was now uninhabitable—but my family just so happened to live in the most congested area. Most of the population was on government aid these days, but we were at the bottom of the barrel, and in this part of the city the utilities were cheap, the housing free, and the buildings smashed against one another to take advantage of every inch of useable space, making it seem like everything was closing in on you.

  It hadn’t always been like this. There was a time, so long ago I barely remembered it, when things had been better. Before my dad left and we still had the money from his job. But he’d gone, taking his income with him, and we’d been forced to move here. It almost made me understand Mom’s bitterness. Almost.

  Lena, who was short for sixteen, looked up at me with wide eyes. With the exception of the height difference, she was nearly a carbon copy of me even though we had different fathers. We had the same long, dark hair, light brown skin, and big, hazel eyes. We’d also both inherited our mother’s pouty lips, which made my sister appear extra young and me more feminine. All it did for Mom was make her look like she was constantly on the verge of spitting.

  “I don’t know why you push her buttons like that,” my sister said. “Just nod your head and do what you want.”

  “Because it makes me mad, that’s why.” I let out a deep breath, trying once again to push away my frustrations and failing miserably. “The Veilorians aren’t human, but they’re still people. Mom has never even met one, but she hates them anyway.”

  My sister’s eyes grew larger as the meaning of my words sank in. “Have you met one?”

  “Of course.” I straightened my shoulders, holdin
g my head high to let my sister know I wasn’t ashamed. “I’ve met Ione’s boyfriend—husband. His name is Rye. He’s nice.”

  Lena looked around like she was making sure no one was listening, and when she was once again focused on me asked, “What’s he like?”

  “He’s not that different from you and me.” I shrugged as if the difference between our two species was as unimportant as having different color eyes, which to me it was. “I mean, he wasn’t born on Earth, but he hasn’t been to space since he was little. I doubt he even remembers it.”

  “None of the Veilorians have gone back into space since they got here,” Lena pointed out.

  “Exactly.” I punctuated the word, shaking my head to let my sister know how stupid I thought it all was.

  Once again, I adjusted the straps of my backpacks when they shifted, digging into my shoulder, and the weight served as a reminder that I had something I needed to do. Not that I wanted my sister to know about it. The less she got involved in all this, the better. Just in case.

  “You have somewhere to go?” I asked Lena, gesturing to her own book bag slung over her shoulder.

  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.”