My Kingdom Come book 1: The Saints We See
Chapter 23: Choices Made

664 standard years after the signing of the Alliance treaty

Mikhail was scrubbing his hair with the blue coloring shampoo. He could feel Galor touching his blood. It was a very strange sensation. A few planetside stops ago Galor had come to Mikhail with a syringe and told him he needed some of his blood. He wouldn’t explain why.

Mikhail had had to figure out how to let Galor take his blood. His body kept sealing off the vessels where the needle’s tip probed into his flesh. When he finally succeeded in letting his blood flow into the glass tube it was very peculiar. He’d never had any of his blood leave his body before. His mental connection to each blood cell didn’t break. He could feel it cooling in Galor’s pocket for several hours before Galor took it to wherever he had taken it. Mikhail assumed it was to some sort of metal worker because his blood had been mixed with hot metal and stamped into a shape that Galor now carried in his pocket.

Mikhail didn’t tell him that it had hurt when he had felt his blood boiling in the hot metal, or that he could feet the gentle brush of Galor’s thumb every time he touched the object Mikhail’s blood had been turned into. Sometimes Mihail would wake up in the middle of the night feeling intense sadness, and realize he was feeling Galor’s emotions, because Galor was holding the object in his hand.

Mikhail turned the shower off, dried himself with a clean towel, and put in his blue contacts. He looked himself over in the mirror, scooped his clothes off the bathroom floor and walked back to his room. He could hear Galor praying quietly as he passed his room.

“Gods, I don’t ask for an easy death, I only ask that you watch over Miha, give him a good life. Let him find his life’s work fulfilling and give him a lasting love that will help him bear his mother’s absence a little easier.”

Mikhail shut his bedroom door softly. He’d heard Galor praying similar words every morning and every evening since he was a little boy.

Mikhail took a set of clothes out of his drawer and began to pull them on. His hands were shaking. They would be planet side in an hour or two. He would finally see the sun again after three months.

Since that one day in the meadow when his body had rooted into the soil, his need to be in the sun had increased, and every time he went planetside he had to spend a day in the sun, drinking from the earth. Galor said it was because Mikhail had finally hit puberty. Mikhail hadn’t been sure Galor was right about that at first, but then he started noticing little changes. Not so much on the outside, but internally. His awareness of the individual cells in his body was growing, what their functions were, and how they performed them. His ability to control the natural processes of his body was growing as well. He had always been a fast healer, but he could heal even faster now. Cells knitting back together, or being replaced as soon as they were torn, which made the pain of healing and the pain of being wounded blend together into one, more painful process. He found he was becoming more sensitive to things too, changes in temperature, pain, pleasure. He had been able to tell his blood was mixed with a metal alloy because of this newfound sensitivity.

Mikhail’s eyes ran across his book shelf. Galor had filled it with books on history, politics, biographies of people/sentients who had suffered and triumphed, instructional books on mind and body disciplines and all sorts of other odd and interesting things. Their time in space was filled with physically putting every bit of mental and physical discipline that Galor know into practice. It was exhausting and demanding, but Mikhail could tell that it was aiding his mind body connection tremendously. The long stretches when he didn’t see a sun for weeks or months were easier to bear because he had the discipline to deal with his body’s hunger.

Mikhail opened his door and walked up to the cockpit. Galor was already there, filing the paperwork. He was nervous. He was always nervous when they went planetside now.

Mikhail took his seat in the copilot’s chair and checked for the flight path that was sent to them. “I’m going to drop us into orbit, okay?”

Galor grunted an affirmative. “Did you find a place to sunbathe? He asked.

“Yes.” Mikhail checked the orbital lane for traffic before merging in. The planets they landed on these days were rarely busy, but Galor had made sure to drill proper procedure into Mikhail. No matter what you expected, you had to check to see what was actually there. “There’s a place about forty-five minutes from town. It looks like there’s not much traffic out that way.” They had needed to get a lot more picky about the places they went for Mikhail to get sun, since he needed undisturbed time to root into the soil and his body stain was always ruined within the first twenty minutes that they were there.

“Good.” Galor muttered. “I’m going to see if we can catch a short haul from here to the next planet in the system. Give you more time in the sun.”

Mikhail was surprised. They rarely resisted a solar system again. “Is that wise?”

Galor shrugged. “I’m thinking we should leave this quadrant for a haul to the next quadrant. That’s a lot of extra time in space. Thought you should probably get some extra time planetside before we do that.”

Mikhail swallowed. He hated moving quadrants, too much time in the dark, but it was a good move for safety reasons. “That sounds good. Thank you. You ready to land?”

“Yeah. The client wont be there for another three hours, but we might as well get you in the sun as soon as we can.”

Mikhail took a deep breath and tried to still the trembling in his hands. It was hard to control his hunger when he was this close to having that need quenched. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“You doing alright over there?” Galor asked turning to look at Mikhail.

“Sorry, I’m just hungry for the sun.”

Galor let out a soft sigh. “It’s all right Miha, you don’t have to apologize to me. Do you need me to do the landing?”

“No, I’m alright.”

Galor nodded and went back to what he had been working on.

Mikhail landed the ship smoothly, then he and Galor moved through the landing duties checklist. Mikhail found it hard to focus, knowing the sun was right outside the door. Galor came over when Mikhail had tested the same section of fire alarms for the third time in a row.

“Miha, go on out and get some sun. I’ll finish up here and join you.”

Mikhail shook his head in frustration. “No, I’ll finish my work first.” Mikhail pressed a few buttons on the screen a little more aggressively than he usually did.

Galor laid his hand on top of Mikhail’s and chuckled. “Please, give mercy to an old man’s ears. Go on out, Miha.”

“You’re not old.” Mikhail looked up at Galor and realized that the blue fur on the top of his head was showing streaks of grey.

“Mm, you think flattery is going to get you anywhere? Go on.” Galor smiled at Mikhail, his blue eyes sparkling.

Mikhail swallowed. “Okay. Thank you.” He pulled his black coveralls off. “I put the coordinates of the field in the ship system.” He hung his coveralls on the hook next to the hatch.

“Yeah, I got them.” Galor said.

Mikhail looked back at Galor. “Are you sure you don’t want me to wait for you?”

Galor looked up, grinned and waved his hand in a shooing gesture. “Go. Enjoy yourself Miha.”

Mikhail opened the hatch and stepped onto the docks, into the sun. He paused as the rays touched his skin and sank into his body. His eyes closed, his breathing paused. He shuddered and let out a breath. His body began to ache to root into the soil. He walked through the docks into the usual market outside the docks.

Mikhail’s body relaxed into the buzz of life teeming around him. He soaked up the emotions, sounds and aromas around him, the energy of the marketplace buzzing through his body. He made his way to the wheel temple. Something pulled at his attention on the way inside, a scent that seemed familiar. He focused all his attention on his sense of smell. It was gone. He kept his unease off his face. What had smelled familiar?

The ritual service was just beginning. Mikhail took his place on the rim of the wheel. Sentients filled the empty spaces till they were evenly spaced around the rim. Everyone joined hands. Mikhail drew in a soft breath as the ring closed feeling the life forces around the wheel connecting in unity.

“Brothers, sisters, and siblings,” the female wheel priest intoned. “Welcome to the Wheel, where all are welcomed, all are vital, all are equal.”

“All are welcome, all are vital, all are equal.” Mikhail responded along with the rest of the congregants.

“May we remember that just as we stand connected in this circle for a moment today, our lives are always connected in the great wheel of life. We each carry our own load so that the wagon of life can move forward, distributing vitality and goodness to all. At times we are at the bottom of the wheel, crushed by the weight of everything above us, at times we are at the top, being carried on the backs of our bothers, sisters and siblings. The gods gave us each other so that no one has to carry the entire load alone.

“Let us give gratitude to the gods for our burdens, for the opportunities we have received to serve the needs of others.”

“I give you gratitude, gods, for my burdens, for the opportunities you have given me to serve the needs of others.” Mikhail murmured.

“Let us give the gods gratitude for our blessings, for our brothers, sisters and siblings who serve our needs.” The priest continued.

“I give you gratitude, gods, for my blessings, for my brothers, sisters and siblings who serve my needs.” Mikhail thought of Galor back on the ship, finishing the docking duties so that Mikhail could get to the sun sooner.

“Let us thank our siblings for giving of their life so that our lives might thrive a little more today.”

Mikhail turned his eyes on his fellow congregants. “Thank you brothers, sisters and siblings for giving of your life so that my life might thrive a little more today.”

The priest sang the simple doxology of praise to the gods then said, “good day brothers, sisters, and siblings. May you find satisfaction in your place today.”

Hands around the circle were released. Mikhail turned to the sentient on his right. “May you find satisfaction in your place today, brother.” He said with a little bow.

“May you find satisfaction in your place as well, brother.” The Wen replied.

Mikhail turned to his other side and gave a little bow to the Hosaik.

“May you find satisfaction in your place today, brother.” The Hosaik said in their soft voice, a delicate lavender blush lighting up their powder blue cheeks.

Mikhail smiled. “May you find satisfaction in your place as well, sibling.”

Mikhail smiled all the way to the back wall where he prayed for Galor. He made a contribution to the temple and stepped back into the delicious sunlight.

Mikhail was haggling with a vendor over the rental price of a vehicle when a shudder ripped down his spine. Someone had touched the piece of his blood that Galor carried, and they were full of malice.

“Well?” The vehicle vendor asked loudly.

“I…I’m sorry. I’ll come back later.” Mikhail turned and hurried towards the docks. Would Galor want me to come? It didn’t matter. Galor was his family. They had always faced trouble together, they would continue to face trouble together for as long as they could.

The vial that hung from the silver chain around Mikhail’s neck bounced against his chest. Is today the day? He wondered as he had a thousand times before. It wouldn’t really matter when the day came. Mikhail had made his choice years ago.

When Mikhail got into the lane where their ship was docked he froze. Their cargo was scattered all over their docking space. Boxes were smashed, sacks slit open, the contents spilling out on the ground.

A man was standing at the hatch of the ship. He was Jurverian. His frame was much slighter than Galor’s, his fur thicker. His eyes were a solid black. The fur at the top of his head was white streaked with black instead of blue. He was leaning casually against the frame of the open hatchway looking at Mikhail.

Mikhail stared at him for a long moment, his breathing shallow. Then he felt that malevolent touch on his blood again and fear clenched his body tight. Galor would want me to run. Mikhail squeezed his eyes shut. No. I’ve already made my choice. He reminded himself. He forced his breathing to slow and deepen. He walked up to the Jurverian at the hatch.

The Jurverian followed Mikhail with his eyes.

“I’m Mikhail Galorson.” Mikhail said.

“I know.” The Jurverian said.

Mikhail heard a scream echo somewhere deep inside the ship. His heart began to pound harder. “Where’s Galor?”

The Jurverian stared at him a moment longer. Then he turned and stepped inside the hatch. “Come with me.”

Mikhail followed him. The ship had always been a quiet and calm space. The feeling had completely changed. There was the scent of pain and anger along with the feeling of rage and terror. Every control panel on the ship that Mikhail passed was smashed. There were more crates of cargo smashed and scattered through the corridors. There was paint and blood splashed on the walls and floors. Mikhail tried to calm himself. He heard another scream. “Where is Galor? What are you doing to him?”

The Jurverian didn’t answer. He led Mikhail to the cargo hold. The door was shut. The Jurverian pounded on the thick metal door with his fist. “The boy is here.”

Mikhail heard a quiet whimpering plead on the other side of the door, too soft for Mikhail to understand.

“Please! Tell them to stop. I’m here. You can take me.” Mikhail held his hands out to the Jurverian. They were shaking. He swallowed hard.

The Jurverian looked down at Mikhail’s hands then back up at his face without emotion. “Galor is paying for his own sins, not yours.”

Mikhail’s hands clenched into fists. “What do you mean?”

“He hid you from us.”

Mikhail’s mouth opened but no sound came out.

The Jurverian smiled. “Don’t worry, boy. He knew what he was doing. He understood the cost.”

Someone touched Mikhail’s blood again. This time the touch was angry, but not malevolent. Mikhail swallowed.

The door opened partially and Mikhail tried to go inside, but another Jurverian filled the open space. He put his hand on Mikhail’s chest and pushed him back into the corridor.

“He doesn’t want you in there.” The new Jurverian said, keeping his hand on Mikhail’s chest. Another Jurverian came out into the corridor and shut the door behind him.

“Who doesn’t want me in there?” Mikhail asked.

“Galor.”

“Why? What are you doing to him?” Mikhail swallowed again.

The Jurverian who had his hand on Mikhail’s chest looked at the first Jurverian that had led Mikhail back to the cargo bay.

He shrugged.

The Jurverian looked back at Mikhail. “We should go to another part of the ship.” He took ahold of Mikhail’s upper arm and lead him back through the corridors towards the crew quarters. The other two Jurverian followed behind.

Everywhere Mikhail looked something on the ship was wrecked. The kitchen was destroyed. Dishes were smashed on the counters and floor. Food was spilt everywhere. The built in table was ripped out from the wall and broken in two.

Mikhail was steered into his own room. Nothing was touched inside. The Jurverian pushed him towards the bed. Mikhail sat on it. The other two Jurverian entered and shut the door behind them. They stood on either side of the door like bored sentries and watched Mikhail.

“Galor has claimed your life.” The Jurverian standing in front of Mikhail said

Mikhail blinked. “What does that mean?” Another muffled scream echoed through the ship. Mikhail clenched his hands into fists.

“Every Jurverian is allowed to claim one life from the family business. If a bounty is put on someone’s life, a Jurverian can claim it as their own and decide whether that individual get’s to keep their life or not. That claimed life is counted as a Jurverian. Bounties cannot be placed on a Jurverian. Galor has claimed your life, even though there isn’t a bounty on your life. It changes nothing, we still need to return you to your master, but if you are killed, you will be avenged by the family.

“You also have a choice.” The Jurverian lifted the silver chain he wore around his neck drawing a vial out from the neck of his tunic like the one Mikhail wore. He lifted the chain over his head and held the vial out to Mikhail. “You can choose to take this rather than be taken back to your master.”

Mikhail lifted his own vial out of the neck of his shirt by the chain. “I’ve already chosen. If I’m counted as a Jurverian, can I claim Galor’s life?.”

A brief flicker of surprise flashed across the Jurverian’s face. “Galor gave that to you?”

“Yes. Can I claim his life?”

The Jurverian shook his head. “He betrayed the family. He’s already dead. He’s just making the payment now.”

Mikhail quickly lifted the chain over his neck. His hands were shaking. A distant sobbing floated down the corridor. “Then can I at least give this back to him?”

The Jurverian studied Mikhail’s face for a moment, he shook his head. “I already offered him mine. He refused. He’s taken a vow not to end his own life.” He shrugged.

Mikhail closed a fist around the vial as another scream cut through the room, through his heart. His body tensed.

The Jurverian put his hand back on Mikhail’s chest. “Don’t. If you fight us over this, we’ll have to kill you in front of him. He knew the cost when he first took you on his ship. Don’t make him watch you die, it would break his heart.”

Mikhail’s hand’s dropped to his lap. The tears that he’d been swallowing down filled his eyes. “Please!” He whispered. “I’ll do anything. Anything at all. Just let him go.”

The Jurverian sat on the bed next to Mikhail. “I’m sorry. Galor made his choice years ago, his life ended in that moment. Now it’s time for you to focus on your life. You have a choice to make. Either you drink your vial, or we return you to your master. I suggest you drink it. I’ve seen the things that are done to your people.” He shook his head. “The life we will be sending you to is not living.”

Mikhail’s fist tightened on the vial Galor had given him. He squeezed his eyes shut. Another long muffled scream found its way into the room. “I’ve already made my choice.” He turned to face the Jurverian next to him and held the vial out to him. “Please. Bring this to Galor. Even if he doesn’t use it. I want him to know.”

The Jurverian’s dark eyes searched Mikhail’s face. He gave Mikhail a nod. He took the vial and pocketed it. “We need to mark you as ours, so that sentients know not to kill you. Usually we mark with a brand, but that wouldn’t stay on you. Galor had a marking made of Durweh alloy.” He held up what looked like a small sliver coin. “We’ll put it under your skin. It will show through. If you die by anything other than your master’s hand, you will be avenged by the family.”

Mikhail swallowed. He didn’t really want anything to do with ‘the family’ but this was Galor’s family, this was what Galor had wanted. He nodded.

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