The Stargazer vessel was mine. It was all black with dim lavender lights. The Stargazers found it difficult to survive in a bright environment. Our home planet was like a shroud compared to Earth. I told them they would get used to light after some time—I did. They only spoke Stellar to me at first, and I only spoke English to them. After a few days or weeks—no one kept me appraised of the time—everyone aboard the vessel, Calumny, conversed in English. The Stargazers were exceptional at quickly learning a new language. Some favored French; others Spanish, having studied Earth archives. I told them that English was only spoken in Sanctuary, and that it what they will learn. They obeyed me without question. I was their ruler—their Overlord. Some gave me inquisitive looks, but no one dared defied their master. Yes, I was their master, even though technically they weren’t my slaves. I would not allow slavery aboard my ship. All the slaves, immortal and dark-haired like Julius, were free and equals to the Stargazers. I overheard grumbles as to this radical decree, but none dared say anything to my face.
The man I had met when I was first transported aboard the Calumny was the head of my royal guard. His name was really long in Stellar. I shortened it to “Jax.” He didn’t like that, but he got used to it. My Viceroy—or ruler in my absence—was a female I nicknamed “Willa.” She actually liked the name. Her heart, though, was broken, and her mind was filled with vengeance to seek justice for the death of her sister—the royal guard with the Mohawk hair who had died protecting me. Willa had Mohawk hair too. It was a family trait, I learned and not deliberate. I told Willa she would receive her vengeance only on my timetable. She was satisfied that I was at least entertaining the idea of attacking Sanctuary because for the time I had been aboard the Calumny—an apt name for her designs to be sure—I had been resisting my war council’s urge to strike the dome.
“Your father would not have hesitated,” Jax told me after the exhaustive meeting adjourned in the dark war room near the center of the ship.
It took me some time to adjust to all the blackness. They put me in an all black suit, conformed to my body. I accepted it only because they had no other clothes for me to wear. I refused to wear the amethyst crown, though. It was heavy, and I was against any sort of adornment. I even refused to wear the family ring, gold and silver braided, with an amethyst jewel. It was my mother’s, and even though I greatly missed her, the ring was not mine to wear. We were not on our home world of Prominence—as close as a translation I could make to English.
“I am not my father,” I reminded Jax with a stern look, as I sat uneasily on my black throne.
It was hard and cold. The whole ship was cold. I tolerated it for the Stargazers, but when I slept, I had the ship’s computer raise the temperature in my room. The computer, who was nothing like Medusa, was constantly confused as to my requests. It had no human interface or Stargazer features for that matter. It was just a glowing lavender orb that I placed my hands on and we telepathically communicated. It was actually simpler than Medusa, but not satisfying. I thought often of her, and would laugh, sometimes aloud, at her motions, acting mechanical and sometimes human.
“There were many, oh Overlord, who greatly disagreed with your ascension to the throne. They felt you abandoned your home, your family, and your destiny, to run away with a slave.”
Jax never held back with me. He was never disobedient, but he told me truths when others would have lied to my face, thinking they were pleasing me.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I did.”
He adjusted his upper body. The twin swords against his back were heavy and he was the oldest guard member—almost 234 years old. Even though in Prominence years, I was a mere sixteen-year-old, I was technically, well over a thousand.
We lived long, but we weren’t immortal like the once slave race, known crudely as the Dirtwalkers, for they would never ascend so high and mighty as the Stargazers. Upon my release of their bondage, they were no longer called Dirtwalkers, but they weren’t Stargazers either. I called them the “Immortalis.” There was one Immortal, Cory—I named him—who reminded me a lot of Julius, but with shorter black hair. I later discovered they were related, cousins. He wasn’t wild like Julius had been on Prominence, but very shy, and despite being free, still followed me around, desiring to be of service.
I tolerated him because I felt sorry for him. He still wanted to be a slave and didn’t know how to handle being free. When I gave orders it was as the Overlord, not as a master. I never made him do anything that was obscene or dangerous to his health. After awhile, he became more relaxed in my presence, and would often joke with me in Stellar. I laughed, remembering the funny tales back from our home planet—stories that humans of Earth were incapable of understanding. We both mourned for our planet—destroyed not through war, but of a dying star. When would that happen to Earth?
Cory stood by my side now, as Jax uneasily relayed the recent intelligence.
“We were almost through the dome, but it quickly solidified, repairing the damage.”
When I’d awaken aboard the vessel, after thinking I’d fallen to my death from Quadrant Delta, the Calumny had been able to penetrate the dome, enough to transport me aboard, before Medusa quickly put a halt to their plans of attack.
They had been trying to break through the dome again, but not to attack. I’d specifically forbidden any assault until I could get a coded message to Loren, hoping his rebel tech could decipher it—if he was even still alive…
I worried about John and Henrietta. I also worried about the many of innocent citizens, the billons of people, who were under Julius’s thrall. They didn’t deserve to die. As we orbited in space above Earth, I looked down upon the dome as often as I could from a large clear screen that was the floor of my chambers. In the event of a mutiny or some sort of malfunction of the ship, my room ejected as an escape pod and landed on the nearest habitable planet. I was tempted many times to tell the computer to eject me, so that I could come back to the dome and see my friends again. It was a stupid, foolish idea, but I didn’t think logically like a Stargazer. I had too many human characteristics embedded in my soul.
I thought always of Julius, even in my dreams. At times he was angry with me, cursing at me; and at other times, he was smiling at me, kissing me, and holding me under the twin moons of Prominence. Even when he yelled at me, I still loved him. I loved John and Loren too, but Julius was a part of me from across the universe. We had been bound across space and time and that was a feeling that couldn’t be easily undone, despite how horrible he had become.
When I told Jax and Willa of Julius and what sort of brutal empire he had created, Jax, being antagonistic towards the Immortalis didn’t seem surprised. Willa was angry, but I believed this was more directed in the execution of her sister, which Julius was responsible for, even if he didn’t pull the trigger.
“Those slaves were always trouble,” Jax had said, despite Cory being with me.
Cory paid no attention to Jax. He viewed the elder royal guard as a man with one foot in the grave, who babbled about history as if it were currently happening, and forgetting simple events such as recent conversations about supplies or atmospheric conditions of the ship.
“It’s who the man becomes, not who he was born to be,” I had reminded him.
Jax had merely bowed. “Yes, my Overlord.”
Willa never said much, but she was lethal with swords and had superior strength and speed. She was anxious to show me her abilities, lobbying to be head of the royal guard, replacing Jax. It was suggested to me by Cory that Jax should be Viceroy instead. He would govern the ship while I, Cory, and Willa, transported to the planet.
I had been thinking about rallying the Resistance to our cause, and using their technology, as well as our own, to break down the dome once and for all. But I didn’t want an all out war upon Sanctuary. I just wanted a way in, so I could get Julius to step down—peacefully—and then with me, an interim ruler, I could dismantle his cruel city and free everyone from his mental persuasion. I knew I would encounter resistance—most notably from the Red Woman—if she was still alive. Julius had threatened her before, but I was sure the Madam Secretary begged and pleaded and probably did more to show her loyalty to him.
I found myself jealous at the thought of any woman seducing Julius. I felt like he was still mine—my immortal love. When we’d first landed on Earth, I told him of my concerns: that I would die before him. What would he do then? He assured me that if I were to die, he would as well through a spiritual process known as “Deliverance,” when his soul, through his will, is released and delivered up into that starry realm above the layers of black space, where he would be forever intertwined with me. It was sort of like Heaven. We had no Hell. No one was tortured because of their sins. They just merely died, placed in the ground, and never entered that starry realm.
If Julius were to freely give up his immortality, I wondered if he would go to that heavenly place, so high above us all. Or would he rot away in the ground, punished for his multitude of sins, as worms ate at him? I shuddered at the thought. He was still my Julius. I hated that I loved him. I wondered if he felt that same way now that I was elevated above his encased kingdom, threatening his power.
In the last day, white cannons had been seen turned towards the sky, targeting the Calumny. We had no intelligence as to their design or effectiveness. The projectiles could fall flat or destroy us. We didn’t know if the dome was needed to open for the weapon’s transit, or if it could merely pass through like John and Loren and Henrietta could pass through the wall of my former cell.
That was why I had to get inside the dome. I had to reach Loren. He was in league with the rebel spies. And I had to form an alliance with the Resistance, scattered along the waters and woods. My only encounter with a real rebel had been with Thaddeus Ridge. I’d broken the bones in his hand. I doubt he would be much on an ally. Rainn and Sunny—the two siblings—would probably help me, but could they convince the other imprisoned rebels, and rebel spies within the Corporation, and in Sanctuary, to follow me—an alien, a Stargazer—who had a massive ship positioned over their home?
The Calumny had advanced weapons. If the dome were to fail, we could pulverize the city. Of course, I had my own internal weapon. My anger set it off. When I had exploded in Quadrant Delta, I only ruined his digital program. If the android hadn’t intervened, and I was drawn back to where I was, and who I was, I would have destroyed not only the quadrant, but perhaps all of Sanctuary as well.
I had a rare ability. As far as I knew, it was an unknown possession to those on Prominence. The Stargazers and the Dirtwalkers had never seen anything like me. But I was trouble, despite being the Overlord’s daughter—the princess. I was to be adored, but I was also feared. Everyone took pains to keep me calm. No one tried to upset me. My parents doted over me—perhaps a little too much. I’d felt like I could do anything. I was spoiled, actually, so when I wanted my way, I wanted my way! When I wanted Julius, despite him being a slave, I was furious at being denied my wish. I was so furious I erupted in uncontrolled rage and shattered the glass of the throne room. Despite the damage I caused, I was still denied my wish to marry Julius. Yes, we were going to get married. We were in love. My father, the Overlord, said it was unthinkable for a slave to marry a princess. We were from two different worlds—two different bloods—two different races. Our children would be half breeds, who were considered even lower than a Dirtwalker.
I was ashamed to be a Stargazer, ashamed at my father’s allowance of such a philosophy. I wanted to be far away from Prominence, from its hypocrisy of freedom for all, but not the dark-haired ones, who weren’t given a chance at opportunity or to prove their value to society other than serving. They were a smart and industrious people—greatly relied on by the Stargazers. I found that we Stargazers were the weak ones, whereas the Immortalis were actually, the stronger ones.
Julius and I ran away because being apart was more terrifying than even death. We stole a small, transport ship—one of my royal barges that I used to travel the planet at my leisure. Julius knew how to work the controls. He had always been my navigator. We sailed away, out of the atmosphere of Prominence, and among the stars, among the planets, so varied and wild and beautiful across the universe, finding a planet, of green and blue, as our new home. We landed in a thick forest and hid the vessel from sight. We noticed how different our clothes were from the Earthlings, and so we snuck up on a family, camping, and stole some clothes. I felt bad for doing that, but we had no choice. We had to blend in.
Julius with his black hair was easily accepted. As we traveled, people did stare at my lavender hair and eyes, but when I told them I was born that way, they were more fascinated than afraid. I even saw other girls with my same hair color, but it was dyed, of course. We were greeted with warmth and love by the people of Earth. We were happy, until that dark night, a thousand years ago, when, out enjoying a walk, holding hands, we were obstructed by a Stargazer—a scout and guard—sent to find us, possibly leaving the planet right after us, in pursuit. I didn’t recognize the man wielding a sword in his hand, threatening us. Of course, I didn’t pay attention to a lot of the members of my father’s court. I was too obsessed with Julius.
The guard went for me first, but Julius tackled him to the ground—yelling at me to run. So, I did. I ran and ran until I couldn’t run anymore, my breath giving out. I was in the middle of the forest; it was dark and cold. I was scared. I called out Julius’s name, but he didn’t respond. I circled back, trying to find him, hoping he was trying to find me, but before I could make it back, I was struck from behind and when I woke up, it was in the confines of the Corporation with no idea of who I was or how I had gotten there.
That day in Quadrant Delta, Julius filled me in, telling me that I was taken aboard the guard’s ship and that it malfunctioned in the nearest galaxy—Andromeda. How I survived, I didn’t know, but instead of continuing my journey—adrift, asleep, cold, naked—I sailed back to Earth, and back to Julius.
Why didn’t he help me the day I was brought in? Why didn’t he show any kind of love towards me as he did a thousand years ago? He said he thought I was a clone—a spy—sent to lure him out. Stargazers had the technology to clone, but it was never really successful; maybe Julius was hoping it never would be. But how could he treat me so harshly? How could he allow Victor and Dr. Keller to poison me, knowing full well who I could possibly be? Why did he sign Victor’s death warrant? What possessed him to take care of Loren and John, as if they were the two sons he never had? And why did he only make Henrietta read him poetry, when she would’ve done so much more?
I presented these questions to Cory, one night, after we had eaten. He stayed with me in my quarters, sleeping on a narrow cot beside my large bed. He loved me, more than a subject should love a ruler, but I couldn’t return his love. I had loved so much and lost so much. I couldn’t do that anymore.
“Julius,” he began, used to the name of his cousin, “always talked of rising above his status. He didn’t accept servitude as some of the others. He always argued with me. I accepted my place. I was glad to serve the Stargazers. I wasn’t beaten or starved or without a home. I lived in the royal palace! It was a great honor. Julius couldn’t see that. He wanted to marry you and be Overlord. That was his ambition—his dream.”
I scanned Cory’s face. He had the similar hair and eyes, all black, but he was tan, not pale like Julius. He was younger and smiled more. He seemed innocent. Julius never was innocent. He never talked of being Overlord, but I knew he wanted to be someone, someday. He wanted to be above everyone. He wanted to be the one giving orders, not accepting them. I found no fault with him and his views on Prominence. I adored him, in every way imaginable. On Earth, he didn’t speak of his ambitions. I didn’t know if they were still there, just repressed, but while we were traveling the forests, swimming the oceans, and talking with humans as if we were them, Julius was happy and content. He let me make the decisions. He followed my lead. I was always in charge. I always got what I want, just like back at home.
I was never angry or upset. I never exploded with destruction because I had no cause to. Julius was my serenity. And as long as I was happy, he was happy, and had no need for subjugating others. He accepted the humans, but he didn’t entirely love them—not like me. I found their language and habits fascinating. I wore blue jeans and sneakers with delight instead of a need to be covered, considering nudity wasn’t entirely accepted when one walked about the planet.
Despite Julius giving me anything I wanted, I learned from the humans what real love was like, and compassion, and forgiveness. I saw hypocrisy and hatred and jealousy as on my own planet, but I also saw the capacity to search one’s soul, and remedy their faults. Humans were always trying to be better, to advance, and overcome. It took awhile, and maybe they didn’t get there, or it wasn’t exactly what they wanted, but they tried, and that was what endeared that weak race of beings to my alien heart.
Julius loved only me with all his heart. He was nothing without me. But forced apart, him living alone for 500 years, and then taking over the world in the next 500, imposing rules and customs on a people, forcing them to love him, to worship him, or else it was death for them, was a future I didn’t envision for my Julius. Never, in a million years, would I have believed he would turn out to be such a monster.
“If we had been together,” I told Cory, “if we were never separated, I believe Julius would’ve never done the things he’s done.”
Cory shifted on his bed, propping his head up on his hand, staring at me. He always stared at me.
“I think he would have. He kept many things from you. He loved you too much to let you see how dark his heart truly was.”
I had been on my side too, looking at him, but then I lay on my back and stared up at the black ceiling of my quarters.
“Can I comfort you?” he asked.
“How would you do that?”
I knew the answer before he said it.
“I’ll make love to you.”
I sighed. “Cory, you’re no longer a slave.”
“I wouldn’t be doing it as a slave. I’d be doing it because I love you.”
“And if I wasn’t your Overlord? If I was another woman, sad and lonely, would you try to comfort her too?”
“No, I only want to comfort you.”
I rolled over and looked at his young and handsome face. “I’m sorry, Cory, but that can never be.
He face fell. “Don’t you love me?”
“I love you but not in that way.”
“Do you love Julius in that way?”
“I’ll always love Julius in that way. I can’t be rid of him. It’s like I can feel him now, here, next to me.”
“Does he comfort you?”
“No, he makes me uneasy…afraid.”
“Then will him away.”
“That’s the problem. I can’t. Despite the fear he instills in me, I don’t want to let him go. I see now what John and Loren and Henrietta, and all the others who love him, why they act the way they do. Many see his dark heart, but they cling to him, like he’s their lifeboat. Like me, they wouldn’t know what to do without him.”
“Sometimes it’s best to float away. Only then, can you find where you’re meant to be.”
I smiled. “Or I could drown and die.”
He smiled back. “But there will always be someone there, ready to save you.”
“What if I’m the only one left in the world?”
“We’re never alone. We just think we are.”
I reached my hand out for Cory. “Just hold my hand—that’s all I want from you tonight.”
He clasped my hand and held me tight. We remained like that, holding onto one another, comforting each other innocently, as we drifted off to sleep. When I woke late, I found Cory still holding my hand, but he had crawled into my bed, and had lain beside me.
His eyes were open. “Don’t punish me,” he begged. “I just wanted to be near you.”
I gently slid my hand from his and got out of bed. “You won’t be punished, but don’t do it again, and don’t make me forbid you from my quarters or my council. I still like talking to you and you’re a very good friend.”
He smiled. “Thank you, Overlord.”
I had urged him to call me “Ava,” but Jax had stomped his foot against the ship’s floor, telling me that it was “absolutely disrespectful” for Cory or anyone, including him, to call me by my informal name. I decided that it wasn’t worth injuring Jax over, so I told Cory to only call me “Overlord,” as did everyone else.
“Overlord,” began Willa as she bowed before me while I ate my breakfast, “there is activity near the dome—humans.”
“Is it rebels?”
“They all look the same to me.”
I smiled. “And we all look the same to them.”
She lifted her head. “How can they be so blind? We look nothing alike.”
I appraised her wild, purple Mohawk style of hair. “I agree. We don’t look a thing alike, but they don’t distinguish so carefully, noticing our similar hair and eyes, and then grouping us as equal in appearance. Don’t fault them on that. Or they’d fault us on appraising them in a similar manner.”
“But-but they do look alike.”
I laughed. “You haven’t spent much time around them. Trust me, there are differences.”
“How so?” she asked, standing up.
“Well, in the dome, for instance, there is a very handsome man named John with the loveliest blue eyes you’ve ever seen, and then there’s Loren, also handsome, with green eyes that leave you mesmerized.”
She furrowed her brow at me. “Humans can leave you…mesmerized?”
“That they can, Willa.”
She bowed again. “It is as you say, esteemed Overlord.”
“You will get to find out soon. I want you, me, and Cory to transport to the planet and talk with these…mesmerizing humans.”
She gasped and then seemed to remember her place. “It is as you wish esteemed Overlord, but…Jax”—she said his name strangely—“is the head of your guard.”
“Not anymore. He is my Viceroy. You are the head of my royal guard. Are two swords enough or would you want more?”
She smiled. It was unusual. Willa wasn’t one to smile, and not since learning of her sister’s death. I was glad to see her happy about something, but I wish it wasn’t something as lethal as knives. Of course, who was I to talk? I was basically a walking nuclear bomb.
“Two swords are sufficient, but…I will see how many more will suit me.”
“Good girl,” I said with a nod and a smile.
“Good girl?” she repeated, confused.
“It’s a complement Willa. Now, when you’re done accessorizing, will you ready my transport?”
She bowed low. “I would be honored.”
She left the room and I sighed, sitting back against my chair. The food on the ship wasn’t as good as Earth food and I was more anxious to see what the Rebels had to eat, than trying to convince them to help me break through the dome.
I wasn’t sure if they would help. No, I was definitely sure they wouldn’t help. Why should they? They blame the Stargazers for the brutality of Julius and his Sanctuary. Without us, they assume, Pallas would never have built the dome and terrorized the people. I would have to argue that their logic was flawed. Even without the Stargazers, any man or woman could have engineered a dictatorship. If they knew their human history, it would be a reasonable argument. But I wasn’t sure what they knew or how many there were. Scattered, taking shots here and there at the dome—they were mostly ineffective when it came to a complete overthrow of Julius. But I wouldn’t exclude them. My father taught me that everyone had a purpose. He was mainly referring to the slaves, but I meant the rebels. They weren’t slaves, but they weren’t free either—not really, being hunted down by Retrieval Squads, being imprisoned, executed for wanting a different life than what Julius was offering.
I didn’t see the rebels as a threat to me or any Stargazer. We could crush their faces with a mere slap of our hand. But I didn’t want to threaten them into following me. I wanted them to want to follow me.
How was I supposed to do that? How was I supposed to get a bunch of disgruntled, ragtag wilderness hermits, with explosives, to concede to my leadership? If they were still a ragtag group—we had no intelligence on them. We didn’t even know the names of the commanders. I wanted to communicate with Sunny and Rainn, hoping they would give me something before I wandered in the wilderness of unknown, but Medusa’s defensives were on hyper alert, stronger than ever, keeping us out.
Jax didn’t like me going down to the planet, but since I was Overlord, there wasn’t much he could do about it. Cory drove the small transport vessel as Willa and I sat in two large black chairs behind him. The ship rocketed to the planet faster than a speeding bullet, as lavender lights blinked from the machines all around me. There were no seatbelts. We were attached to the seats by a force field that acted like glue. I wondered if this was where Julius got the idea for how to restrain subjects to tables.
But what I didn’t understand is how the humans bonded. Victor said it was in their DNA—they were born that way. How? Humans back in 2013 didn’t bond like that. Was it evolution? Or did Julius lie and tell them that when he really injected them all with some sort of adhesive chemical—a bond to keep his subjects in line, and together? Was only Sanctuary affected or did the rebels have the same ability? I was about to find out. If I got close enough to a rebel…