All My Sins Remembered

Amazon Link Newearth Justine Awakens

I’m offering a free review copy of Newearth: Justine Awakens to my faithful blog followers. So if you’d like a free review copy, please email me at, and I’ll send one to your email address.




“We have definite…” The Luxonian Supreme Judge in a trim human form and dressed in a dark blue robe, stirred in her seat, “…proof that you assassinated well over a hundred and fifty beings on the troop transport called…” She glanced down at a datapad, “…the Generous Sharon.” She fixed her black-eyed gaze on the lone figure standing on the floating dock with narrowed eyes.

Well over fifty delegates had gathered at Bothmal Criminal Court and sat on comfortable chairs, each tailored for a particular species. Every sentient race on the Inter-Alien Alliance Committee, including Ingots, Uanyi, Crestas, Luxonians, Bhuacs, and humans had at least one representative in attendance. No race wanted to be absent from this trial. Hundreds more sat in the court’s upper wings, savoring the spectacle while millions watched the unfolding drama on holoscreens.

The figure standing silently at the center of this hurricane of watchful emotion was a biomechanical hybrid, an android built in female form, in this case, human. Long black hair fell like a cascading waterfall down her back; her blue eyes stared straight ahead, peering into shadows. Massive cuffs, secured with powerful magnets and chains, were locked tightly about her wrists and ankles.

The android moved slightly, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. An expectant hush settled over the assembly. The silvery rattle and clanking of chains broke the quiet.

“Well?” The Supreme Judge leaned forward in her chair, fixing the prisoner with narrowed eyes and lowered brows.

“Yes.” The word was a sigh, not of regret, but of weariness or boredom. “Yes, I killed them.” She glanced up at the massive holoscreen hovering over the assembly. On its curved surface, the security recordings from the Generous Sharon played on a constant loop. “My guilt is…pretty obvious. There’s no point denying it.” A small smile curved at the corners of her lips.

Cerulean shifted to the edge of his seat and coughed lightly into his hand. “If I may ask, why?”

Pondering a moment, the android straightened. “They were in my way.” Her musical, almost bell-like voice would have been lost in the echoing chamber if not for the amplifiers.

“Justine, correct?” Cerulean folded his hands into his long robes, leaning forward.

“That is my name.”

“It was necessary, you say. Did you feel no…revulsion? Pity? Empathy? How could it be necessary to end the lives of over a hundred beings?”

Justine placed her shackled hands on the dock’s rails. “You work in this hall. Did you ask the building permission to occupy it? What its feelings were?”

Two delegates, a Cresta and a human, spoke at once.
“So, you compare yourself to an inanimate object?”
“Are you suggesting that you, as an android, cannot be sentient?” The human representative’s fingers nervously played with a datapad.

Cerulean raised his hand. “Justine, I’ve read the reports, your psychological profile.” He cocked his head. “You’ve made jokes, noted ironies—shown a full range of emotions. Are you suggesting that, like an inanimate object, you can’t feel or rather, that you had no choice?”

Justine looked at the human, turning slightly. “The Inter-Alien Commission declared that it is impossible for a robot to be sentient. That is your belief. I say nothing about my own.” She fastened her cold, blue eyes on the Cresta. “I am the product of fetal tissue and a computer. How much choice do I have?” Her lips curved mockingly.


Novels by A. K. Frailey

Science Fiction

Last of Her Kind

Newearth Justine Awakens

Historical Fiction

OldEarth ARAM Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Ishtar Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Neb Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Georgios Encounter (In production)

Melchior—Vengeance Is Mine

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho

Inspirational Non-Fiction

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings

Not Natural

Excerpt from OldEarth NEB Encounter—coming this summer 2018.

Earth @3000 BC

Only flickering flames of a campfire held back the blanket of black night.  An owl hooted in the distance as the crowd huddled close.

Neb’s gaze rolled from the stiff figure of his grandson to the shuffling clansmen before him. “Listen to me, my people. I am Neb, your leader of long years and the father of Serug and the grandfather of Neb, son of Serug. I declare that all gifts bestowed on me shall be given to my grandson and that when it is his time to serve, you will follow him faithfully. I have seen a new land. You will depart from these woodlands and live on the edge of a mighty river. Your greatness cannot be measured. Your hands will reach out, and you will take for yourselves the power to rule all others.”

His gaze returned to his grandson. “I bestow the mighty bear spirit on my grandson, young Neb. And you will worship the god of horns, which Athaliah has made known to you. If you obey—you shall prosper. If you do not, a curse will fall upon you and future generations down to—”

A crash broke through Neb’s cavernous tones. Crackling, a great tree limb broke free and began its weighty decent from the upper regions. It fell through lower boughs crashing and tumbling. A message from the black sky landed in front of the startled crowd.

Neb stood glowering in silence.

Serug stared wide-eyed—nothing of this nature had ever happened before. Always, nature assisted his father. Though he had to admit, the flying locusts of old had dismayed them both. He brushed that thought away as he stood frozen—his mouth hanging open.

Young Neb had no such qualms. The youth strode up to the massive limb and tugged it while the crowd watched, mesmerized. As the smaller Neb hauled the branch to the fire, everyone at once understood. They reached out and began tugging it, thrusting it into the flickering flames. The ancient limb caught quickly, and the fire grew in fierce exuberance.

Old Neb smiled. He had forgotten what it was he was going to say, but it didn’t matter now. The incident only made his point that much clearer.

In a gesture not unlike the one he had used to the People of Seth on the night of their defeat, he motioned for his people to commence the meal. There were no more ceremonies. The future was set. Neb could leave the Earth, and his spirit would live on in the grandson who bore his name. He would never die.

Serug watched his clan set to the feast. His father had undoubtedly prophesied correctly, and he would lead his people to a Great River. But how long before his son felt the need to rule? Old Neb had thrust his father aside when he felt the urge. As he stood staring into the flames, Serug wondered just how much like his grandfather his son would be.


*Ingoti, from the planet Ingilium are large beings, ranging from six to seven feet tall. They are never seen outside of their bulky techno-organic armor and breather helms, leading some to believe that they are in-fact cyborgs and that the “armor” is built directly into their bodies. 

Ledgerut tugged on Kinrus’ arm, a glowering gleam in his eyes. The two Ingoti scouts slipped away from the primitive scene and made their way back to their hidden vessel.

“Blast that idiotic Gerrog. If he hadn’t played up the whole ‘They’re a threat to planetary security’ thing, we’d never have missed the Collective Symposium. I was looking forward to reconnecting with some old friends.”

Kinrus shrugged good-naturedly. “I’ve got to admit, I can’t see what the Magisterium was worried about. Babes—that’s what these beings are. Babes in the wild.”

The two tromped through the dense woodland in silence until they came to a cliff edge. Tapping a metal plate on the back of his hand, Ledgerut signaled their ship. Soon, a small spacecraft rose from the depths and hovered in space before them.

Kinrus frowned. “Bring it in a little closer. I’m not jumping that distance.”

Ledgerut tapped the plate again and watched the shuttle door slide open about three meters from land. He straightened his shoulders and glanced at his companion. “You’re worse than a Cresta hatchling—so timid!” He stepped to the edge of the cliff and settled into a leaping position. “You know the rules—no footprints leading to the spacecraft—ever.”

“You could bring it in a little closer—higher—and I’ll jump up.”

A tromping, crunching sound thrashed through the foliage and froze the two in their tracks. A tusked wild hog broke through the underbrush, snorting in fury.

With a graceful bound, Ledgerut leaped the distance and landed just inside the doorway. He extended his hand. “Hurry up or you’ll—”

The wild boar charged.

Kinrus skittered forward and tripped.

Before Ledgerut could reach his companion, the bore had ripped into Kinrus’ exposed neck and clamped on, snarling and snorting.

Whipping a Dustbuster from his arm pocket, Ledgerut jumped down and ended the brief struggle.

Kinrus’ arms flailed as Ledgerut shot a stabilizer into his arm and wrapped a thin strip of auto-healing fiber around his neck.

With calm, systemic motions, Ledgerut drew the ship closer and heaved his mate on board. When they were both settled in comfortable seats, Kinrus’ half closed eyes rolled over to his companion.

“Maybe I was a little hasty.”

Ledgerut scanned the directional console on the chair. “How’s that?”

“Perhaps they aren’t such babes after all.”

Ledgerut grunted. “So they deal with fierce animals. So what? No species survive without a few natural trials.”

Kinrus groaned as he turned his head to stare straight at Ledgerut, his eyes red and haunted. “But they’re not natural. That creature’s eyes glowed with evil—like the human.”

“You mean the old man—the one called Neb?”

“No, the child—the one who’ll take his place.”

Ledgerut’s hand hovered over the panel. He shivered.

Kinrus nodded. “Yeah. Me too.”


Novels by A. K. Frailey

Science Fiction

Last of Her Kind

Historical Fiction

Melchior—Vengeance Is Mine

Coming in 2018…

OldEarth ARAM Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Ishtar Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Neb Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Georgios Encounter (In production)

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho

Inspirational Non-Fiction

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings

Newearth—Justine Awakens

Coming in March 2018

Newearth: Justine Awakes is a follow-up to Last of Her Kind, an original novel and film screenplay, which describes humanity’s near destruction and eventual resettlement on Lux with Luxonian light beings. Newearth: Justine Awakens occurs three generations after the first human refugees return from their exile. Several alien races have settled on Newearth, competing for primacy in the government, culture, and allotment of resources.

History: An investigation committee was sent to Oldearth shortly after the last human perished. Human refugees and Luxonian representatives established the first Newearth colonies 40 years later. These original colonies thrived for approximately ten years unmolested by alien races. They established a republican system of government while they worked to build up rural farming communities. Luxonians assisted the early settlers but soon found themselves under attack when Crestas began to arrive in year 13 N.E. Of all the exploratory races, Crestas were the most aggressive and insisted that since they could make the best use of the nearly uninhabited planet, they had the natural right of supremacy. The Luxonian Supreme Council decided that humans should fight their own battles and withdrew to Lux. Only a few scattered Luxonians remain to this day.

Calendar: The current calendar is based on the original settlers reckoning of time on Newearth founded on day one, year one. At the opening of Newearth Justine Awakens, the date stands at 53 N.E.

Main Characters:

Justine: – Justine is a sentient robotic-human being who has been the receiver of stored human memories and history. But after an intergalactic war, the Pan Security Alliance tries her for mass murder, she is found guilty and shut down. Seventy years later, when this story opens, her memories and skills are found invaluable, and a Cresta named Taug reawakens her to accomplish a secret mission.

Cerulean, 53 in Newearth years, (1788 Luxonian years) with a muscular build, brown hair, blue eyes, 6 foot 2 inches, 185 pounds has settled on Newearth as a citizen of the Wisconsin Territories. He has unofficially accepted the title of “Protector” as the alien races (especially the Crestas) have a habit of bullying humans and taking advantage of them at every possible turn. After recent battles, he has returned to Newearth emotionally exhausted.

Taug – An up-and-coming Cresta scientist, younger and less powerful than his boss, Mitholie, Taug has been ordered to eliminate his father’s creation—a mixed-race human-Cresta named Derik, who grew up as an adopted son in a human family. Taug’s father, Taugron, sincerely believed that the only way for the races to ever achieve harmony was to allow them to interbreed, if not naturally, then scientifically. Unfortunately, his beliefs led him to illegal experiments, which cost him his life.

Derik, 35, is 6 foot 6 inches with short curly brown hair, dark eyes, a jutting chin, massive chest, and large hands. He is the result of Taugron’s secret, mixed-race experiments and has been hidden in plain sight for over thirty years. He hires Clare to help him discover his true identity unaware that Taug has been ordered to eliminate his father’s indelicate mistake. Derik is terrified that he really is a monster and will become evil as his alien personality asserts itself. He needs to discover what defines him—his biology, his humanity—or both.

Clare, 28, with brown hair, brown eyes, 5 foot 7 inches with Scotts-Irish DNA has made a name for herself as an effective, get-things-done detective in the Human Relations Bureau. She outwardly teases her partner, Bala, and his family, while privately envying their intimate family culture. Bala’s wife Kendra is Clare’s sounding board, brimming with common sense wisdom, which Clare desperately needs as she battles interior as well as exterior demons.

Bala, 30, with black hair and dark brown eyes, 5 foot 10 inches, 155 pounds and of Indian heritage. He was educated off-world in a Catholic settlement, which accepted applicants from all races. He works with Clare as a detective for Human Relations and is married to Kendra, the great-grandniece of Dr. Mitchel’s wife. (From Last of Her Kind.) He is funny, quirky, devoted to his family and loves to read Oldearth thrillers and cookbooks.

Alien Races:

Luxonians are light beings from the planet Lux who can transform into any form they wish and through Cerulean have a special bond with humanity.

Ingots from the planet Ingilium are large, ranging from six to seven feet tall. They are heavy due to their extensive weight and girth but are very fast and extremely powerful. They are never seen outside of their bulky techno-organic armor and breather helms, though their faces are visible and clearly human-like, leading some to believe that they are, in fact, cyborgs and that the armor is built directly into their bodies.

Uanyi from the planet Sectine are slim creatures, standing between four to five feet tall. They are insectine with soft, rubbery exoskeletons as well as internal bones. Uanyi most prominent features are their enormous eyes, some almost a foot in diameter, which is endearing to some but nightmare fuel to others.

Bhuaci from the planet Helm are a gelatinous race that can mold themselves into the likeness of a variety of beings, both sentient and not. Bhuaci are often called the perfect race as they mold themselves to the physical ideal of any race they encounter. They especially enjoy Oldearth Fairy-Tales. They are known for their incredible, malty tone and competitive singing and their love for puzzles and games. Bhuaci are omnivorous but prefer being vegetarian.

Crestas from the planet Crestar have no bones. As naturally aquatic creatures, they need a mechanical exoskeleton when out of their native element. Crestas have rounded soft bodies and tentacles. Thier eyes are large and watery, and they have a “brain sack” hidden behind a spiral shell on the back of their head. It has long been suspected that Cresta use unwilling members of less developed races in bioengineering and flesh crafting experiments, which the Cresta vigorously deny.


OldEurope has the largest human establishments. Crestas have taken over the vast majority of OldAfrica, the MiddleEast, and the islands off the coast of OldAsia. Ingots have settled in sections of SouthAmerica and CentralAmerica while Ugani have made definite inroads into OldIndia and OldAustralia. Since the Bhuacs alter their appearance to fit with their environment, they have made establishments on almost every major continent on Newearth. Humans mostly inhabit the NorthAmerican continent, OldEurope, coastal areas of OldAsia, and made only light incursions into other territories. Those who try to intermix with various alien races tend to find themselves so disenfranchised by race-centric laws that they quickly retreat back to “pure” communities.

Short Stories 

Many of the short stories in my blog series dig deeper into the lives of the main characters in Last of Her Kind and Newearth: Justine Awakens. Enjoy!

Neweartha world where deception rules but truth prevails.

Anne Smith faces the end of one human era and the beginning of an alien alliance—united but unique in Last of Her Kind. A new future unfolds as Oldearth passes into obscurity, but the seeds of Newearth are planted. The human family faces a new horizon…Newearth

Outlast the Ages

Ancient Egypt

Atet stood by the small open grave, staring upon the face of her son. Ma’nakhtuf’s body lay crushed and broken, though his face remained unscathed by the falling stone. Only the frozen grimace of final anguish told the full tale. A sculptor by trade, but a dutiful son by heart, he had the gift of beauty in both body and soul.

Turning away, Atet faced the setting sun. The Pyramid’s glory shown more distinctly as the golden rays of the gods caressed its edges. For this, her son had lived, and for this, he had died.

The slender figure of her sister, Khumit, wrapped in a long dress, swayed across the cooling evening sands and approached with hands outstretched. No words needed, they embraced, and Khumit clung with devotion born of mutual suffering.

Pulling back, Khumit plumbed the depths of Atet’s despairing eyes. “They will come and set him to rest. His spirit—”

Atet jerked away; her eyes barren of dreams, her soul dead to hope. “The gods live on; the pharaohs live on; the glorious and the wealthy live on, but my son is dead to this world and to the next.”

With a swift wave, Khumit encompassed the mighty structure. “His work lives in the pyramid, the home of the gods. All who served faithfully will outlast the ages.”

A procession of men, women, and children wound serpentine fashion across the sands toward the gravesite. Clouds of incense floated before them, rising like an evening oblation.

Khumit gripped her sister’s arm and drew her back to the graveside. “It is time to say goodbye; allow your son to find a new abode.”

Atet stared at the grimaced face of her dead child, and like the incense floating aloft, she offered a prayer. What I see with my eyes destroys all joy, but what I hope with my heart offers my only strength. May you live on, my son, and take your beauty with you.”


Commander Rumson of Crestar, Reporting on the Third Planet—District 48.788.

There have been few significant changes since my last report, though I have seen Luxonian activity in the area. I also passed an Ingoti trader in close proximity. We’re not the only ones keeping an eye on this planet.

One point of interest—a new pyramid structure is now set in a vast desert. I came in for a better view and have attached the measurements and significant data. This is a surprising achievement considering their lack of tools. Circling above, I could detect no discernable purpose for the structure. Interested, I ventured closer for a more intimate view and discovered a funeral procession in progress. As I observed superstitious traditions typical of this species and of no particular value to us, I ended my tour.

My current analysis for the Crestonian Science Department—as a race obsessed with structures, humans make exceptional use of tools. Devotion to their dead, though motivational to some, remains useless to us. Perhaps, given time, they will join passion with purpose and develop something we can value. Until then, I recommend we maintain regular observation but take no further action. After all, their pyramids may last longer than they do.


Novels by A. K. Frailey

Science Fiction

Last of Her Kind

Historical Fiction


Ishtar’s Redemption

Neb the Great

Georgios I—Hidden Heritage

Georgios II—A Chosen People

Melchior—Vengeance Is Mine

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho

Inspirational Non-Fiction

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings 

2018 Short Stories

I don’t have a complete list yet of my 2018 short stories, but here’s a peek into what’s coming each Friday from January to May. 

My newest science fiction novel Newearth—Justine Awakens is slated for publication in early 2018. Many of the characters from my short stories really “come alive” in the Newearth books.


January 5th

Winter Irony

January 12th

Now I See

January 19th

A Beggar’s Choice

January 26th

Intercept Course

February 2nd

Live Again

February 9th

Outlast the Ages

February 16th

Ol’ Diablo

February 23rd

Edge of Life

March 2nd

You Don’t Look Dead To Me

March 9th

Not Natural

March 16th

Don’t Miss a Day

March 23rd

The Great Wall

March 30th

My Love Is Strong

April 6th


April 13th

So Blind

April 20th

Wait and See

April 27th

Alternate Universe

May 4th


Riko’s Uncle Clem

*Uanyi are smaller, slim creatures, standing about four to five feet tall. They are insectine with soft, rubbery exoskeletons as well as internal bones. Uanyi most prominent features are their enormous eyes, some almost a foot in diameter, which is endearing to some, but nightmare fuel to others. Their bright colorations are also striking as are their long necks. Uanyi do not breath the same air mixture as humans, and so they wear breathing masks that cover their mouths. Many humans find their crab-like mandibles rather frightening. Although they speak with synthesized voices, they have a terrific grasp of various languages.

 *Ingoti are large, ranging from six to seven feet tall. They are heavy due to their extensive weight and girth but are fast and extremely powerful. They are never seen outside of their bulky techno-organic armor and breather helms, leading some to believe that they are in fact cyborgs and that the “armor” is built directly into their bodies. They are scientists at heart, but their moral reasoning tends to be very black and white, almost child-like.

Riko stared at the larger-than-life screen and felt his Uanyi physique tremble beneath his immaculate white shirt and pressed, dark blue pants. He swallowed and tried not to blink too rapidly.

Uncle Clem beamed a radiant grin across the universe, his excitement apparent in his waving hands and nearly epileptic shaking. “It’ll be like ol’ times, Riko! You and me—against all opposing forces. We can—”

Riko raised a thick-fingered hand. “Uncle Clem, stop! Listen. It’s not like that here. I own an establishment, a nice place. Beings come from all over Newearth just to enjoy my varied cuisine and Oldearth-style comforts. There are no opposing forces.”

With a shake of his head, Uncle Clem dispelled that foolish naiveté. “If you think that just because things are calm at the moment means it’ll always be so, then you’re not thinking like a Uanyi. We know our history. Worlds change. Cultures change. Clashes are inevitable.”

A clattering of dishes falling into the auto-wash forced Riko to glance away and yell at the new waiter. “Hey, careful there! Dents ruin reputations. You’re not paid to kill my business.”

Apologetic murmurs and a softer rattling allowed Riko to return to his uncle. “Listen, you’re welcome to come and stay as long as you like. I just don’t want you to think that you need to fix anything. Nothing is broken. Life is good here.”

Uncle Clem nodded, his shoulders straighter and his eyes darker. “You do know about Cosmos, the planet-eater, right?”

Riko swallowed, his hands clasped behind his back. “I’ve heard rumors—but they’re only rumors. I’ve got friends, and they’re looking into things. The Interalien Alliance is working with the Luxonian Supreme Council, and even the Ingoti Magisterium is—”

A weary hand stopped Riko’s assurances. “And the humans? What about the Newearth Governor? She’s gonna to let alien races decide Newearth’s fate?”

A huge Ingot strode forward in her bulky techno-organic armor and hissed through her breathing helm in Riko’s ear.

Riko scrunched his shoulders reflexively. He listened and then glanced back at the screen. “Listen, I got to get back to work. One of my customers just drank himself under the table, and no one wants to admit that he’s got a problem. A regular…you know.” Riko heaved his shoulders and shook off his concerns. “I’m glad you’re coming, Uncle Clem, really. Just don’t expect too much. We live a pretty boring existence here—and I don’t want to change that. You understand?”

Uncle Clem held up his laced, tented fingers in Uanyi I-promise-or-hope-to-die fashion. “Trust me. I want what you want. I’m just coming to see you and bask in your success.”

Riko nodded. “Stupendous. See you in the next moon cycle then.”

The screen blinked to black, and Riko stood silent.

The Ingot returned and tapped him on the shoulder.

Riko looked up, his huge bulbous eyes fixed on his hostess. “Yeah? What now?”

The ingot shrugged sheepishly. “Taking a bit of risk—aren’t you?”

Riko glared and poked the Ingot in the chest. “What’s the risk? He’ll come, and everything’ll be fine.”

“Maybe. Or he’ll come and find nothing but space debris.” The Ingot paced away. “Course, he could get in the way and become space debris.”

Riko froze.


Novels by A. K. Frailey

Science Fiction

Last of Her Kind

Historical Fiction


Ishtar’s Redemption

Neb the Great

Georgios I—Hidden Heritage

Georgios II—A Chosen People

Melchior—Vengeance Is Mine

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho

Inspirational Non-Fiction

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings

Jeremy Quinn

Jeremy Quinn shoved his dinner tray aside and leaned back on a metal chair, a petulant scowl pressing his eyebrows into a v-formation. He glowered at the steel-gray mess hall of Bothmal Prison. Rotating his jaw, he swallowed his last distasteful bite of dinner.

A man about his age, but taller and thinner, wearing the same standard blue guard uniform, ambled up and pulled out a chair opposite Quinn while balancing a dinner tray.

Quinn cleared his throat.

The thin man glanced up. “You mind?”

Quinn nudged the chair out with the toe of his steel-tipped boot, his jaw still working in a circular motion. “Not much.”

Thrusting his hand out and accompanied by a stiff smile, the man leaned forward. “Name’s Scott. Nice to meet you. Just started yesterday.”

Quinn’s eyes traveled over the angular, dark-haired man. His nose wrinkled. He could smell fear a kilometer away. “It’ll feel like you’ve been here an eon by the end of the week.”

Undeterred, Scott sat and laid out his dinner—fork on the left, knife on the right, a cup of steaming coffee upper right, salad upper left, a plate of synth-meat and vegetables front and center, fruit cup lower left, napkin unfolded neatly in his lap.

Quinn’s jaw dropped as his eyes followed every precise movement of his tablemate. “By the Divide, you dining with the Luxonian Supreme Council or something?”

With a self-deprecating shrug, Scott dug into his meal with relish. He chewed slowly, carefully, his gaze surveying the room with the hint of a smile. Swallowing, he positioned himself for another foray; his gaze merely glanced off Quinn. “Pigs eat at a trough; humans should reflect their higher status.”

Quinn rolled his eyes.

Two guards dropped their trays in a recycle bin that sucked everything down a shoot with a swish. They placed their hands against the print identifier, and when the door slid open, they shuffled over the threshold.

Quinn leaned forward, his elbows braced on the table. “The only difference between us and the animals locked in cages around here is the color of our uniform—and the fact that we haven’t been caught yet.”

Scott methodically chewed another bite, swallowed, and pointed his fork at Quinn. “Speak for yourself.”

Running his fingers through his short hair, Quinn tilted his head. “You’re from Lux, right?”

“Born and bred. Second generation. Though my parents have a huge Oldearth sanctuary on—”

Quinn knocked his empty cup aside. “My family was run off Lux with barely the clothes on their backs during the Crestonian Crisis. Said we were a threat to planetary security.” Taking a more relaxed pose, Quinn laced his fingers behind his head. “They feared us. Humans were getting too numerous, so—”

Scott laid his fork aside and took a sip of his coffee. “Our family was large, my Uncle George has thirteen kids. In fact, they encouraged—”

“Who’d he work for?”

Scott dug into the fruit salad. “Bio-engineering Dep—”

“Oh, sure, yeah! Bio-engineers can do anything!” Quinn lowered his voice and leaned in further. “Listen, newbie, Bothmal doesn’t give a—”

A red light flashed over the door accompanied by a repeated buzzing sound.

Quinn frowned and rose to his feet. “Bothmal belongs to the strongest—not the smartest.” His gaze swiveled around the empty room. “You’re not on Lux. Remember that.”

The door slid open and a Crestonian wearing prisoner’s garb hustled in. He leaned against the door, huffing, and eyed Quinn and Scott. Rotating a long metal object in two tentacles, he straightened up.

Quinn stepped to Scott’s side and nudged him shoulder-to-shoulder, speaking out of the side of his mouth. “Crestonians are ingenious at fashioning weapons outta garbage. Ironic, eh?”

Scott held up his hands. “Maybe I can talk him down. He’s gonna get killed if he tries anything.”

Quinn’s eyes gleamed. “Oh, he’s dead alright. No question about that.” He shoved Scott ahead. “You talk to him. I’ll be right back.”

Scott glared at Quinn’s retreating back, then turned and faced the prisoner, one hand sliding to his sidearm. “Listen, I’m new here, but I know every rule on record, and I want us both to get out of this room alive, okay? If you just hand over the weapon, I promise—”

The door opened, Quinn charged through, and tackled the Crestionian from behind, knocking him down. They rolled across the floor with Scott pulling out his Dustbuster, edging up and backing away, as the two opponents grappled across the room and into the airy, institutional kitchen. A wall hole labeled “Recycle Your Refuse” glowed in neon letters on the wall. Jabbing his Dustbuster under the Crestoniona’s chin, Quinn dragged the prisoner to the opening.

The Crestonian struggled frantically, trying to get his skewer against Quinn’s midsection.

Scott dashed in and held his Dustbuster against the Crestonian’s head and shouted at Quinn. “Enough! We got him.”

Quinn braced himself, and with a mighty shove, he leaned the Crestonian against the hole and fired. What was left of the body was instantly suctioned into the hole.

Scott fell against the wall and stared open-mouthed at Quinn. “What the—?” He waved his Dustbuster in the air. “We had him. He knew it! We could’ve ended this without—”

Quinn, gulping deep breaths of air, grinned like a child winning a game. “Look at the sign, idiot.”

Scott pushed off the wall, his eyes wide with fury. “He was a prisoner. He wasn’t sentenced to death by the court! What gives you the right—?”

Quinn shook his head as he straightened up and swaggered back to the mess hall.

Four guards rushed in with Dustbusters at the ready. The lead man stared at Quinn. “We thought you were dead! Somehow that freak managed to cut the monitors.” His eyes roved the room. “Where—?”

Quinn chuckled. “He’s being recycled. More useful this way.” He tucked his Dustbuster away as the other guards relaxed with relieved smiles spreading across their faces.

Scott stood with his Dustbuster dangling at his side, glaring at Quinn.

With a shrug, Quinn turned and met Scott in the middle of the room. He leaned in and whispered. “Never let an opportunity slip by.” Putting an arm around Scott’s shoulder, he walked him back to their table. “Since I saved your midsection, you can clean up.” Her patted Scott on the shoulder and then started toward the door. “Oh, and not a word. Remember, the only difference between them and us is the color of our uniform.”

The door slid shut. Scott plopped down on his chair and shoved his dinner tray away.


Novels by A. K. Frailey

Science Fiction

Last of Her Kind

Historical Fiction


Ishtar’s Redemption

Neb the Great

Georgios I—Hidden Heritage

Georgios II—A Chosen People

Melchior—Vengeance Is Mine

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho

Inspirational Non-Fiction

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings