1 Reject

REJECT

M. Blayde

© Copyright, 2019

PROLOGUE

The ass-end of nowhere.

The wrap-around, silver band circled the bridge, part of the bulkhead. Top-and-bottom, it was defined by seams of blue light. The band threw the captain's image back at him as he sat at the central command station. He wore his black hair long but didn't allow it to fall into eyes of silver that almost made him appear blind. Like all those on the bridge, his face looked too young for the uniform he wore.

He touched a green jewel chip on the arm of his chair. The silver crown crystalized to become transparent. Now, a ring of open space seemed to circle the bridge, chopping off the ceiling.

Leaving the ship, were metallic tears, life-pods falling into unknown space. The captain watched their retreat.

"Poor kids. I suppose this is the best we can offer them."

"Sir?" A woman approached him. She had the same silver eyes, but her hair was dark garnet. She, too, wore high rank on the ship's uniform. "You act like there's a place for them in our society. The Rejects ought to be grateful not to have been disposed of at birth. They were mercifully allowed a childhood. And now our compassion is giving them a chance at life—somewhere else. You can't say we haven't acted with honor."

Sending them into uncharted space, hoping they find what will likely be a primitive world; is that a true blessing?

The captain had lived for hundreds of years and seen many Rejects sent off this way, none of them to ever return. If not for his race's devotion to genetic perfection, their civilization could not have reached such glorious advancement or sustained such stability over the ages.

Sacrifices are required. Evolved beings do not get angry over such necessities.

Tamping down his anger, the captain turned his chair to face the executive officer. "XO, were all the pods up to service requirements?"

"Yes sir, and—as ordered—number five pod was left uninspected."

Yes, we can't have records showing a child received an advantage that others weren't given. That would be unfair.

"We'll not bother to add that fact to the official records," he said.

"No, sir." She agreed without arguing. Arguing might have hurt her career. The request for special handling had come from much higher up, from the parents of the boy in pod number five. The XO spoke softly. "So, that was him, the one immune to gel-tech modification?"

"Yes, the first such mutation we've seen, but that was only one of the reasons for his Rejection. His psych profile is alarming: wild, unconventional, a mind dismissive of rules, dominating the upper reaches of intelligence with no cap in sight."

She nodded sagely. "A clear danger to us all."