This is the beginning of a novel I started over three years ago and have since started other projects that I want to finish first. What do you think?
Live to love, love to die
The rain crashes against the metal roof of the abandoned shack in which two young lovers lie. The year is 2368 on planet Octillia on the darkest of nights; both literally and metaphorically. The young woman lays asleep in her lover’s arms as he lies awake and alert on the mattress with no pillows and no sheets; obviously hiding from something. Olivia is barely an adult in both body and mind with long, blonde hair, three blue eyes. Ernie, her lover, has blonde hair just long enough to cover his third eye in the center of his forehead and light brown eyes. He looks as if he is waiting for something to happen…something bad to happen. He looks at Olivia and cracks a tiny smile and begins to gently nudge her shoulders to awaken her.
“Liv, gotta get up,” he whispered quietly.
Olivia’s two bottom eyes slowly shutter open while the top remained shut.
“How long have I been asleep?” she asked as she turned to him and placed her hand on his cheek.
“Ernie?” she said knowing he would listen carefully to what she had to say.
“Ernie, why did they do that?”
“Guess we struck a chord,” Ernie sighed, regretting the past events he had put his lover through, “Who would have thought a little resistance faction like us would have caused all of this? But, why kill us? It doesn’t make any sense at all.”
“So much blood,” Olivia muttered to herself as she shook from the cold of the room and the remembrance of the massacre of their friends by their so-called government.
“All I want to do is change that stupid law.”
“Benny, Carrie,” she whispered to herself in a trance of reflection.
“Love is an emotion. How the hell can they make that against the rules?” said Ernie as if he were speaking to a group of people.
“Emma, Bernie. Oh…what have I done?” cried Olivia, blaming herself for the deaths of her friends.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” said Ernie in a quiet, but stern voice as he pulled Olivia’s head up to his eye level, “All we want to do is love. Scholanians and Roarlians get to love, why can’t we? Hell, even the damned Earthlings get to love one another…the Earthlings Olivia!”
“Love,” whispered Olivia as she looked into Ernie’s eyes as her third eye finally opened seeing as she was now fully awake, “Why does the need for love bring so much hate?”
“It shouldn’t,” said Ernie just before leaning in to kiss Olivia.
Suddenly, Ernie and Olivia’s kiss was interrupted by a loud crashing sound coming from the entrance. Ernie squinted to see a dent protruding from the metal door; it was being kicked in. The next kick did not fail and the door flew completely open as a police-looking man rushed into the room.
Two seconds later both windows of the domicile shattered from two other men bursting through the windows. All three men’s heads glow green from the night vision goggles they are wearing over their two horizontal eyes while the top eye is exposed.
“Move and your fucking dead!” screamed the man that broke down the door to their temporary hideout as he pointed his large rifle-type gun at them.
The gun had a canister of liquid screwed to the back of the gun (liquid pulse rounds had replaced tradition ammunition back in the 2150’s).
The two men that jumped through the windows rushed towards the two lovers, one grabbing Ernie and the other grabbing Olivia and pulling them away from one another. Olivia’s restrainer was not gentle towards the young girl, twisting her arm into a pretzel and holding her throat much too tight. The other man restrains Ernie’s hand behind his back so he can’t fight to get away.
“Ernie,” rasped Olivia, who was struggling to breathe correctly as she reached for Ernie with her free hand.
Olivia’s captor was annoyed with her resistance, so he flung her to the wall as hard as he could. She hit the wall with her side and heard a loud click in her shoulder; it took a few seconds before she could feel it, but when she did it was an excruciating pain.
Ernie was so outraged at the violence towards his lover he whipped his head back into the cop’s face breaking his nose so intensively that Ernie could feel the wet blood in his hair. Ernie ran towards Olivia to help her, but was met with her captor’s boot planted into his chest for his effort. Ernie flew back from the impact where the man with the broken nose was waiting. The bloody faced police man punched Ernie in the throat and tripped him to the floor.
Olivia was on the other side of the room holding her shoulder which was more than likely dislocating; she could actually feel the bones rubbing each other the way they should not. She looked over at Ernie and the world seemed to slow down, she knew what was going to happen to him but could not look away. The man with the broken nose placed his boot on Ernie’s face and pulled out his pistol which had a digital read on the side that read “50”; once again a canister attached to the gun. The bloody man pointed his gun down and shot five pulse rounds into Olivia’s lover’s chest. The shots lit up the room; the bright yellow liquid pulse rounds are concentrated energy and it takes very little to kill an Octillian. It took Ernie a mere three seconds to die while Olivia watched on.
“Punk,” scoffed the shooter.
The man that broke down the door swung his gun around so it was strapped on his shoulder and resting on his back, then proceeded to go tend to Olivia. He flipped her on her stomach and shoved her head to the floor while he yanked her arms behind her back to tether them together.
“Ahhhhh,” screamed Olivia in intense pain from the strain being put on her injured shoulder.
The man restraining her slowly leaned down to her ear.
“Shut the fuck up you whore!” he yelled in her ear so hard that they both rang.
He pulled up on her handcuffs with both hands in an effort to bring her to her feet. Olivia could feel the throbbing pain in her shoulder as the officer roughly walked her to the door of the shack. As she was walked to the door she couldn’t help but to glance over at her dead lover; the only man she ever loved, the man she completely changed her future for. All for nothing.
Olivia was walked out the door of the shack by her restrainer and was followed by the other two officers who had smug grins upon their faces, like they had somehow accomplished something important on this night. The captured young girl was not yet crying over the death of her love; the shock of the events over the past few minutes had frozen her spirit.
She felt drunk; she was watching the floor as she walked through the door. Her fear was intense that she felt as if she was going to trip over her own two feet. Falling to the floor may result in her murder by this savage trio of individuals.
After they walked through the frame of the broken door Olivia felt safe enough to look up, what she saw was a dark scary rude awakening. A large van-like armored vehicle sat on the street with its rear double doors facing her; she knew now what was going to happen to her. Everyone, especially the young, feared the “banish carriage,” it more often than not meant that the person going inside of this vessel would not return to their home.
The two men not escorting Olivia sprinted to the “banish carriage” and pulled open the two rear doors to reveal several other prisoners who were very unlikely to return to their homes or maybe their planet. The driver jumped out of the left side of the front of the vehicle and started walking towards the rear of the vehicle.
“Only one?” the driver asked.
“Yes. Well, one left. Call the clean-up crew; there’s one piece of trash inside. And tell them this one needs medical when you get there,” said Olivia’s captor as he yanked her injured arm.
“Owww!” screamed Olivia.
“See?” smirked the officer just before lunging her into the truck.
Inside the truck were five other Octillians: two women and three men, all three men had visible bruises on their faces and arms. There is a small white light affixed to the ceiling of the holding area. The officers slammed the two doors one after another, that shut off the light. The only light now was that of the moons which shined through the barred window of the truck and showed stripes on the faces of the two girls across from her. Olivia dropped her head and the realization finally registered in her brain and she began to sob.
On the trip to the sentencing facility no one made a sound. The feeling of shallow nerves was thick in the rear of the truck. There were no windows on the truck and they could hear the sounds of the city of Frandice in the country of Mortar. However, the only sounds on this painful night were that of the night birds known to the Octillians as Quirts.
Quirts are about the size of an Earthling Falcon with two sets of wings; two on either side, one above the other. Unlike the humanoids of the planet, the quirts had only two eyes, but one on the front and one on the back of the head. This would be a problem if not for their rotating neck like that of an owl’. During the day a Quirts had a colorful feather pattern closely resembling a toucan on planet Earth, but at night their coloration would dim to a darker version of their bright counterparts.
Olivia could hear the faint siren-like whistles of the Quirts as the truck steadily drove from the outer slums of Frandice towards its center where the sentencing facility and prison transporters were housed. She found it somewhat ironic that there were half a dozen people on their way to their imprisonment or worse and there were two men in the front of the truck laughing and chatting about trifle things.
It took almost an hour to reach the center of Frandice from the outer slums, but it felt like days with the factor of nerves and fear. The prisoners felt a sharp left turn, then a squeaky stop, followed by the sense of going backwards, then a squeaky stop.
The six Octillians looked around the dark, cold room as if to hope to hear with their eyes. The ones closest to the barred windows stretched up their necks in an effort to see out. Olivia stared over at the man two people down from her as if to try and catch his eye. He saw her asking with her face and just shook his head as if to say ‘I see nothing.’
They hear a door slam followed another door slamming coming from the front of the truck. I then hear some muffled chatter coming from the rear of the vehicle. Then, the sound of a metal bar sliding against steel as the rear doors began to unlock. Then, more muffled chatter getting louder and louder as the doors slowly crept open.
“Six,” finished the voice of the driver that had transported them to the facility.
“Any banishments or executions?” asked a deep female voice.
“One and one,” answered the driver, which prompted the six prisoners to look at one another, each trying to figure out who was the one that was going to die and never see the sunrise again.
“You, let’s go,” ordered the female officer as she flicked her index finger as if she were trying to lure a dog to food.
The male prisoner struggled to his feet then turned toward the doorway and dropped down from the floor of the truck to the concrete floor of the property they would soon be entering. When he landed his left leg almost gave way; Olivia could only conclude that his leg was injured during his capture.
The driver caught his underarms and lifted him up straight as the female officer got closer and handed all but one of the rubber devices to Ernie’s murderer. She straightened the rubber tubes of the device and placed the middle cylinder that looked like the breathing apparatus of a gas mask over his face and fastened the cords around his head; a beep sounded when the buckle clipped and Olivia could see a red light shine against the female officer’s face.
The device was known as an “auditory restraint device” or ARD. Olivia’s focus was now on the name tag of the female officer, ‘Serg. M. Kranj.’ After Kranj had finished with the male prisoner, she shifted her eyes over to Olivia and held out her hand to Ernie’s killer for another apparatus for Olivia. The male officer placed on in Kranj’s hand and she pushed the muzzled prisoner towards the building where two more officers emerged to retrieve him.
“Your next honey,” said Kranj waving Olivia off the vehicle.
Kranj repeated the previous procedure on Olivia, except a little more gently. But this time Olivia could hear the beep of the locking mechanism even louder since it was directly behind her ears. As she breathed it was now more audible to her and a little more difficult.
“Oh right,” said the driver realizing something, “she apparently needs her arm to be looked at.”
“Shoulder,” chimed in the murderer.
“Medical!” yelled Kranj as she began gently pushing Olivia towards the door where the two men waited.
Inside the entrance of the building was only a small room with a door at the other end. Olivia looked around the room and saw only an armored officer in each of the four corners and a person in the center of the room in a beige lab coat with a large object about the size of a marble tile.
“Okay…and…stop there,” said the man in the lab coat as he held up the device at eye level and centered on his target, “close your eyes if you want them.”
Olivia and the officer simultaneously closed their eyes. A blue flash filled the room and even with her eyes closed, Olivia could see the blue light through her eyelids.
“Open…your all clear. Proceed to your sentencing,” said the man pointing to the door nonchalantly without removing his eyes from the screen of his device.
Olivia was escorted through the door and into another room where there was the male prisoner that was escorted ahead of her, several more armed officers, and a large glass bubble protruding through the wall at the other end with a woman of authority inside of it. The woman wore a black skull cap upon her head and a red gown covered by a black sash across her chest.
As Olivia looked around the room she saw five doors; one for those to be released from captivity, which never happened, and four doors for prisons corresponding to the accused crimes. To Olivia’s dismay, the male prisoner she traveled with was still wearing his ARD which made it clear to her that the sentencer did not care what the accused has to say. In this culture, there are no witnesses, no evidence, and no reasonable doubt. The officers that arrest the accused are deemed in the right at all times and cannot make mistakes.
“Corvius,” said the person in the bubble pointing to the door to the left of the ‘criminal,' “As do all repeat offenders. Young man, you have committed over a dozen crimes. Though they are minuscule and undamaging to our society on Mortar, it is obvious to me that probationary employment and surveillance is not helping you to learn to change your ways. On Corvius you will be taught to coexist in a society not unlike ours but with more strict consequences; stealing on Corvius will be your demise. Good luck Mr. Rufflo. All!”
At the word ‘all’ there is no more to be said by a person of such high authority as an Octillian judge also known as a sentencer. An officer sprinted over as he heard ‘all’ and began walking the convicted Mr. Rufflo to his door, once he walked through the door the judge faced Olivia who was at the far end of the large cathedral type of a room.
“Scrite! Oliviana Scrite!” yelled the judge loudly.
Olivia’s muzzled head turned to the officer in question. The officer pointed to the center of the room and Olivia looked and saw a narrow gray path painted on the floor leading to a circle at the center of the room directly in front of the sentencer. Olivia began walking slowly towards the center of the room as thoughts banged around the inside of her skull.
She thought of Ernie, whom she would never see again and his stories of one of the moon bound prison, Morciul. Those convicted of fraternizing or reproducing was sent to one of two prisons; the other two prisons are for all other crimes.
Ernie’s brother somehow found a way to get messages to Ernie and told him of Morciul; a dark loveless place where prisoners were treated like farm animals; mass bathing, electrically prodded into going where the guards wanted them to go, and segregation from free speech. According to Ernie’s deceased brother, Samson, talking was not allowed at Morciul and was punished severely.
Each prisoner had their own cell that was no much bigger than a bed. It was for these reasons that Ernie started a resistance group to try and push the government into changing the law, but did not even get close to what he wanted to accomplish.
Olivia’s mind was going light years faster than she could even visualize when she reached the circle where she would receive her sentence from the goddess in the bubble who now seemed to be miles above her now that she was closer.
“You are accused of law 251: intent to reproduce without the authorized confirmation of the Mortarial breeding association. I find you guilty.”
The sentencer now proceeded to press and drag her fingers against a panel that lay at her waist.
“Let’s see here…Morciul or Farseth?”
“Farseth! One to three years,” said the sentencer while glaring at Olivia, “depending on demand of area and your personal evaluation over the next year.”
Olivia let out a sigh of relief that she felt in her ears within the ARD.
“Let me just say,” began the sentencer going into a preachy life lesson, “I hope that you can learn from your mistake and figure out a way to suppress your instinctual feeling of love and the need to find a mate. We all have jobs in this universe and it is my hope that the next planet or the like that you inhabit, if you are indeed released from Morciul, that you can lay focus to what your career of choice intends to be and you are a successful being. Goodbye, Octillian.”
Next, Olivia was escorted to the door to her right and it mechanically opened for her. She walks into the room and sees nothing but another person in a beige lab coat; this time a female, and a small airship about twice the size of the truck that brought her to the sentencing facility.
The small ship was the shape of a straightened banana and a dark metallic gray color covered the ship. The officer walked Olivia over to the woman in the lab coat and the woman reached into the large oversized pocket and pulled out a long glass cylinder with metal framing. She pressed a digital button on the side of the device and a two inch needle came out.
“Hold her steady,” said the woman, “I’m only taking a little,” she said to Olivia trying to reassure her.
She inserted the needle into Olivia’s arm and pressed another digital button and the device began sucking blood out of Olivia very slowly until the tube was half full. When completed, the woman looked at Olivia’s face and saw pain; not the obvious emotional pain but actual physical pain; more pain than a blood extractor would cause.
The woman knew it was in the shoulder area, so she placed her hand on Olivia’s shoulder and squeezed causing Olivia to grunt in pain. The woman pressed the first digital button the device and the needle retracted, then she placed it inside her pocket and put both hands on Olivia’s shoulder and began feeling around for injuries. The woman could feel the problem, a dislocated shoulder, and shook her head angrily at the officer.
“Whoops,” snickered the officer sarcastically, “knew there was something.”
“Damn street enforcers,” said the woman taking custody of Olivia and escorting her to the transportation vessel.
The officer left through the door that he entered as the woman walked Olivia inside the ship and gently sat her down in the row of seats which was empty.
“Don’t worry,” said the woman as she reached above Olivia to pull down the duel shoulder straps to secure her in her seat then pulled on them checking to make sure they were secure.
The woman walked a short distance to the front of the small ship to speak with the pilot. Olivia could hear faint whispering about something along the lines of medical attention followed by a ‘thanks Bart’ indicating to her that they were friends of some sort and that Olivia would actually be attended to this time. The woman gave one final smile to Olivia and exited the vessel and closed the door behind her. When the door shut Olivia saw a circular handle turn 180 degrees around locking the door tight.
“One way to Morciul,” said the pilot as the ship began to rise above the surface of Octillia and head towards the moon prison of Morciul.