Chains of Fate (MxM Sci-fi Omegaverse)

II

Early in the never ending night even before the waking hours, when the silence of the penthouse was interrupted only by the distant hum of the off port pulse generator, I began my preparations to leave my off port penthouse. Throwing on loose fit dark blue silk trousers and a matching shirt the likes of which cost enough to cover a lesser genders living expenses for several months.

My thick, blonde curly hair, the texture of which I did not inherit from my Namesake Mother but from the nameless pedigree alpha she had purchased and then put down, was wild from sleep. It lacked its usual impeccably styled, gelled-back look, with a few shorter, more rebellious locks framing my forehead—a detail my keepers never seemed pleased about.

My eyes were the Jude standard shade of blue, pale to the point they almost looked white, but to me they were nothing particularly extraordinary and nowhere near as icy cold as Hera Deus Jude's. Yet, as they locked with the matching pair in the mirror before me, an unsettling sensation stirred in my gut. Memories of a sleepless night during my youth flooded my mind, the echoes of a terrifying space storm rattling the very core of my off-planet penthouse. A gift from Alba on my second namesake day, my personal prison even now twenty-three years later. The sound of the radiation storm had been the only thing that could drown out the tumult within—years and years of a revolving door of keepers, teachers, and wet nurses I had grown to hate because they were free to leave when I was not. The long, lonely, never-ending nights, so quiet my breath felt loud.

I gripped the cold metal sink as the barely-contained, potentially lethal intensity emanating from that unsatisfied gaze in the mirror evoked memories from deep in my past I had no interest in revisiting. It put a bad taste in my mouth, and I couldn't help the slight downward turn of my fake smile. I fixed it fast; one must always smile. My initial handler's icy claws clutched on tightly even now.

My PortScud was only made for skimming across short distances to and from my penthouse and anywhere else within the boundaries of Port Gelu I was allowed to go, which was not very many places as all my education and everything I could need or want was done for me from within my penthouse, but I knew if I wanted to get to Port Ira, I was going to have to snag something a bit bigger.

Off-Port Skiffs or OPS weren't impossible for Omega's to acquire normally, but my every move was always monitored as a Cardinal, and it seemed unlikely anyone would believe I just felt like going to Ira when I had never shown any desire to go to the dirty space port before. I would need a convincing cover story and the right timing to pull off this escape. Hera's watchful eyes were everywhere, and any misstep would result in severe consequences.

The corridor from my quarters to the grav lift at the entrance of my penthouse was lined with shimmering, translucent walls that allowed glimpses of the bustling port far below my gilded cage. My PortScud was designed for short, controlled trips within the boundaries of Port Gelu, and the path it traveled was always predictable and monitored. To evade detection, I needed to leave at an unusual hour, under the cover of the early morning shift change when my Elder Keeper's vigilance was at its lowest. I waited until I heard the tinkering sounds of a Keeper clearing the seating place adjacent to the grav lift in preparation for their relief.

There was usually about a thirty to forty-five minute window, in the early hours of never ending night, before the Keeper assigned to me during my waking hours would show up. And if I adhered to my typical schedule I wouldn't be up and about in my penthouse until late into the waking hours. So it wouldn't seem weird if all was quiet for a few more hours. At the sound of the grav lift doors I knew it was my time, but despite my anxieties, I waited a good ten to fifteen minutes, before I let myself open my door into the penthouse hallway.

My throat was tight as I glided through my now silent, Keeperless penthouse, and into the grav lift that would take me down to the airdoc where my PortScud was kept. I felt as if any moment I would be stopped as I strapped in and placed my handprint along the metal exterior of the Scud, successfully syncing it to the data chip surgically placed just behind my left eye. The quiet hum of the machine barely masked the nervous rhythm of my heartbeat as I took off down toward Port Gelu.