Revenants of the Past- Book Two of Selective Breeding

Part One

Deon stood in the crisp, chilled morning air out on a balcony on one of the floors of the twisted tower he had now spent two years in. In his hands, he tightly gripped the hot mug of liquid chocolate brought down in one of the cargo ships that had been off and on the planet the past year.

This was Deon's routine. He was standing in the early morning light, watching the sunrise while he drank the hot drink; he could feel something. His eyes scanned the scenery. It had changed since he first arrived. Everything has changed since then.

After the attack on the compound over a year ago, the security got tighter; the guards almost tripled in size, and procedures were more substantial. Deon could see a tall green alien walking with one of his pets in the morning light. That was another addition. Vassenhilo went into a permanent contract with Bvelpio.

"There you are,"

"Morning, Rat," Deon turned to see Ratok in the doorway. He was tired-looking and had been for a while, as he still moved slightly limp. Though it was still slowly going away day after day, being shot in the leg wasn't something to recover from overnight.

Deon watched Ratok move up and sit at the small table near where he stood. "I figured I'd find you here."

Deon turned away and shrugged, "Not any other place I would be," he said, sipping more of his drink.

"You could be with Ruma," Ratok added, "You know she's still-"

"In the water jug, yeah, I'm aware." Deon hissed.

"It's been eight months since you last went down there,"

Deon placed his cup on the table, dropping into a chair, "I don't want to talk about this; what do you want?"

Ratok lifted a hand, showing he wasn't there to cause a fight. "Honestly, just here to check in on you... It's been a week since we last were in the same area. I come back to Ruma's room, and you're already up and about in the morning,"

Deon shrugged, "Well, Vassenhilo has you hauling overnights; that's not my problem." his finger swirled around the rim of the cup. As he stared into the murky reflection. "Have you gone and seen you know who?" Deon tried not to sound bitter.

"Beskra- er, I should say Tyklyn? No, I haven't really gone and talked to him. Though I know he has been pleading with the guards to get one of us down there to speak with him." Ratok leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest and looking into the rising sun. "I know you fought with the big guys to get Ruma's son, who was in one of the Quad, transferred to the cells to be with him. Why'd you do that?"

Deon pulled his fingers into a fist, then shrugged, "I don't know. I know that being alone isn't good."

"Had nothing to do with Ruma?" he lifted his brow.

Deon shook his head, "She's not here, and not everything is about her. Especially since it's been a year, she's still a floating corpse in a tank."

Ratok didn't take offence to Deon's outburst, which was lucky for Deon, as he had been having nearly daily bursts for the past year, and they were in cycles of being worse and better; today was one of the calm ones.

The two sat silently before Ratok yawned; he stood and stretched, "I am going to sleep. I'll come see you before my shift tonight." Ratok stood and patted Deon's should; he stopped just long enough to give him an 'it'll be okay' squeeze he got accustomed to over the year.

Deon watched the large bear man disappear into the building, then stood himself. He walked over to the wall and tapped a button so a cleaning robot would come out and grab his cup as he walked away.

Making his way to the elevator, he went down and headed out into the compound, where he had full reign. The places he once feared and the people that terrified him couldn't touch him now. They were instead told to watch for if he needed something, as his label as Ruma's brude male still sat on his head like a crown.

Funny, he often thought, he had now spent just as much time with her as with her and received the recognition as her brude longer than he had accepted it and was with her.

When he looked up to where his feet had taken him, he was in front of the extensive lab that held the cryo tank Ruma was floating in. He came to this spot often but couldn't bring himself inside. Though he'd stand here every day and attempt to move inside, like he was doing now. Eventually, he gave up cause he couldn't and turned away.

Today, however, he didn't; he mustered enough to step into the door.

As he opened the door, the light flicked on down the halls leading to his left and right. He noticed several guards and found it strange that they were motionless enough for the light to pop off.

They acknowledged him but didn't say anything.

The dingy white paint in here looked like it was slowly being updated to a brighter blue- he figured this was on behalf of Bvelpio putting in the footwork. For a man who looked like a bad case of gang green, he was the front runner of elegance and how things should look.

Deon found himself stuck in the front door, looking down the right hall towards where she was. He took some long, deep, slow calming breaths, then turned and went down the left hallway away from her.

He approached a stairwell and quickly descended it with little thought of what he was doing or where he was going. He didn't realise where he went until his feet hit the cold stone slab at the bottom of the stairs, two stories below the ground floor.

One long cell spanning a L-shape around the back and right wall.

In the far back, he saw two males, one with a bright blond, shaggy look to him and the other a deep red covered in freckles.

"Tyklyn, Kaylo," Deon spoke, waking them both up; he walked up to the bar and put his arms through just enough to use one of the horizontal bars as a resting spot.

Kaylo was the first to respond; the blond shook his hair and stared at Deon. They had met only twice over the year, so he barely realised who it was. The blond signed as apparently selectively mute but relied heavily on his mother language.

"Deon? Good morning." he did his best to be polite; it seemed he remembered something Ruma had taught him years ago when he was just a child.

Tyklyn, on the other hand, was silent; he kept his head down, not addressing Deon. "You finally came down here?" he asked more out of confusion than anything else.

"I tried to go see your mother, but I couldn't stand seeing her float in that blue vat. So, I'll come to talk to her double agent son instead."

Tyklyn flinched at Deon's words but didn't object.

Deon looked over the two of them; they seemed smaller than the last time he had seen them. He sighed. He didn't want to take pity on the redhead, but he couldn't stand the idea of what Ruma would have done if she saw her sons starving.

"When is the last time either of you ate?" he signed so that if anyone was listening in, they wouldn't know what he was asking. Deon was being told very little about these two, even though he had pulled Kaylo in so the half-brothers could be together.

Kaylo quickly answered, "It's been several days, and we ran out of water yesterday; you're the first person to be down here since they last fed us."

Deon slowly tapped his forehead against the metal pole before his face. He groaned at knowing what he was about to do, but he couldn't help himself. But first, he had to get these two some food and water.

"I'll be back," he said and headed back up the stairs he came.