The Global Fellowship: Prelude to The Infinitus Saga

7 - Ashes of the Past

I walk into Southside Brothel feeling like a trillion GRIDcoin. I've got braces for my back, knees, ankles, and wrists. The physical therapy is really starting to help, the medicine is keeping my pain down, and my headache disappeared a couple of days ago.

My new apartment is absolutely perfect with Manuela there to help. I'm wearing clean clothes, and it's awesome to have a haircut and clean shave. I can take a shower every day!

I went ahead and breezed through the assessments the she told me about. With some GC finally in my account, I decided it's time to see Joe. One of the working women touches me casually as I walk past.—God, it's embarrassing to blush so easy.

Joe is standing behind the front counter arguing with an angry chick who's dressed like a tech dealer. Whoa ... Gina would kill for a pair of pants like that! They've got at least a dozen pockets on each side for stashing tech—probably shielded too. Her weirdly-long legs provide a lot of room for pockets. Even Gina's aren't that long. The chick's a little out of proportion, but somehow it makes her exotically pretty.

Because of Gina I know, besides his official gig managing the brothel, Joe coordinates the black market in this sector. Some deal must be going sideways. His bright blue eyes are intense, and the right one is twitching like it always does when he's upset. When I reach them, I nod to get his attention but he's too focused on the angry chick.

"Look, I'm sorry," Joe is saying, "but I don't make the rules. You know better than anyone. I have to do what they—"

"That's bullshit!" the woman shouts, slamming her palm down on the counter. "I deserve the same service as everyone else!"

Are those feathers in her blond hair? I would swear they are. I lean in, trying to see. There are only a few of them, but they're long and so shaggy-looking that they blend in with the hair strands.

Wait a minute ... What are they arguing about?

"I know you do, Selena," Joe pleads, "and I feel like shit, but I can't risk—"

Without warning, Selena reaches over the counter, grabs Joe by the front of his shirt, and lifts him clear off the ground. Whoa! Joe is like six-foot-two. He's not quite as tall as me, but he's heavier.

Bringing back her other fist to punch him in the face, she shouts, "Don't mess with me, you lousy sack of—"

"Hey, wait!" I put a hand on her shoulder.

In a split second, her head pivots around completely backward and she's hissing in my face. Holy shit! She's a freakin' chimera!

I stumble back and land on my ass. Somehow, I keep the box in my hands from spilling. She drops Joe back behind the counter and now my brain finally kicks in with how the hell she's so strong. I've heard of chimeras all my life, but I've never seen one before.

Chimeras are genetic leftovers from the Old World super-soldier programs in the early part of this millennium. Much of the world was in either a hot or cold war, and it was the dawn of the genetic age. Scientists knew just enough to be incredibly dangerous, and naturally, most governments started experimenting with lacing animal DNA into the human genome to produce desired traits—enhanced senses, strength, speed, agility, and natural weaponry.

Most of the chimeras were so malformed they didn't survive, but there were significant successes. Once the public found out, the experiments were banned but they didn't really stop for decades. Now sometimes, those genetics pop back up. Pandora's box was not just open, but actively breeding with the human population.

A shudder of fear runs down my spine, but my brain is still trying to work out the puzzle—which is stupid. Chimeras don't have the traits of only one order or class of animals.