The Kings of the New World – OUT NOW on Amazon

PROLOGUE: BROTHERS APART

Two women bearing children in their final trimester lived worlds apart. Both were experiencing contractions and coming to the realisation that their child was ready to enter the world. Neither knew of the other’s condition, nor in fact that they even existed. Nearly everything about them was of stark contrast. One was surrounded by family and in the best possible care known to modern day science. The other was alone, scared and without any form of pain relief. The first lived in luxury amongst the highest echelons of society. The second lived in poverty within the slums of a forgotten people. One flourished in the new world, while the other fought to survive in the old. There was one thing they had in common, one person that connected them across the thousands of miles that lay between them. They shared the father of their unborn child.

Alisa was full term. She was under the care of the top medical specialists around with state of the art technology to hand. All aspects of her unborn child’s life had been monitored from the point of conception. Any defects or unwanted hereditary conditions had been delicately removed and several genetic enhancements had already been carried out. This child would be born perfect and had less than zero point zero one per cent chance of suffering any traumatic or physical damage from the process of its entrance into the world.

She was a princess from a blood line stemming back long before the Fall of Man. She had been wed into the royal family of Gregor and subsequently the empires of New Atlantica. Her marriage continued an alliance that ran back centuries. Initially forged during a time where savage wars ran between old continents and family bonds could mean survival and dominance.

Alisa had always been beautiful, despite the continuous surgery she had put her body through. Her thick and long blonde hair was completely natural. It was a gift from her ancestors that proved an aggressive gene passed down through generations. As were her blue eyes and great facial bone structure. She was admired and adored across the new world, the people hung on her every word and followed her fashion religiously. She often joked with her husband that she held more influence than him and in some circles she certainly did. Her attendance at official events across the Free Cities was in high demand and she took every chance to extend her popularity.

Albert Gregor, husband to the pregnant princess, stood by her side. He was considered one of the most powerful men in the world, both in strength and influence. His name was of historic note. It was tied to the creation of mankind’s second chance and this was honoured through several lands, cities, statues and streets taking the name Gregor. For a king he was classed as middle aged at ninety six. His skin regeneration was strong and gave him a youthful appearance, thanks to years of cell enhancement. He let his hair and beard grow long and white as a sign of his experience and wisdom. The royal line had access to many enhancements that the kingdom did not, and the kingdom had many that the rest of the world was unaware of. Kings, however, could not live forever. Even with science as advanced as it was, he would expect to become less capable towards the end of his second century and that meant he needed children to continue his royal line. This child was to be their fourth child together, and their third boy.

Alisa lay on the medical bed, draped in pristine white robes. Slow rotating rings surrounded her, one above and one below her swollen belly. The rings were made of a translucent polymer that emitted a yellow glow that spilled across the room. They completed a full rotation once every natural contraction, but they could also help slow down or speed up her cycles too. The rings performed a number of medical operations throughout the birthing process. They could administer several forms of pain relief for both mother and child. They controlled muscle movement, held the position of the unborn child and projected detailed information through a holographic display for the accompanying specialists. The rings currently held the baby in position, poised to be delivered in the safest way possible. Alisa was calm and her thoughts were collected. She felt no pain or discomfort. Her body was regulated by an implant that sat deep in her parietal lobe; this implant’s purpose was to mask pain and manage the body’s sensations from temperature to tranquillity.

The Parietal Core was one enhancement that all New Atlanticans were allowed. It was a microchip processor, implanted deep into the host’s parietal lobe, in their brain. It allowed the user to override their body’s chemical reactions through a series of trained thoughts and memories. The trick was to associate the commands with mental images that were personal to you and unlikely to exist in reality. Incorrectly coloured fruit was a popular approach. Need a burst of adrenaline during that game of sport? Just call up that image of the purple banana. Feeling tired after a long day and need a boost? Just think of those blue grapes.

The user could customise their mental attachments by seeing their family doctor, a simple procedure would allow them to re-assign new memories. Generally you kept your own visual references to yourself, otherwise you were at risk of someone being able to force you into triggering a reaction at an inappropriate time. Imagine a tough business meeting where you need to be sharp and fight your corner, but your adversary has discovered your mental associations. Just at the right moment he pulls out a genetically modified blue apple and takes a bite into it. Although not a common sight, the rest of the room thinks nothing more of it, but your body has injected a large amount of compassion into your system and you end up making a bad decision. Skilled conmen had been known to pull these tactics off with the art of word, making the trick even less obvious to those around them. Now imagine the same trick being pulled in the midst of battle. Keeping your commands private could mean life or death.

Composure was deemed an important persona across the Free Cities. It was considered poor manners to lose one’s temper, become a nervous wreck during public engagements or become overly upset when receiving bad news. Of course, what you did behind closed doors was to each their own. Some turned their Parietal Cores off so they could experience their natural emotions from time to time. To some this was too risky, leaving them feeling out of control and exposed. Others would purposely dial up certain emotions during sport to increase their drive to win. This was one of the most common enhancements found across the new world and one of the few that was not limited to just the royal line.

Danika sat on the dark mud floor, several thousand miles away from the father of her child. A dim, slow burning candle barely lit the walls of her dank underground dwelling. She was alone, scared and in pain. Her child was not due for at least four weeks, but her body was aggressively telling her different. She had been well instructed for a situation like this by the town’s midwifery. She knew there was nothing that could be done for the pain, but it was imperative that she alert someone to get help in case the baby needed to be delivered.

Danika was of Eastern decent, her blood line had been watered down over the years, but she had retained several visible traits of her heritage. Her slim frail build was offset by her enormous pregnant belly, her jet black hair had been cut short to remove the need to maintain it and her pale complexion was even more enhanced from her body’s state of shock.
She only had her younger sister to help her. The rest of their family had been lost to various illnesses and wars over the years. They lived out in the desert together, known as The Scratch, in the subterranean levels of Dryton. The Scratch was a barren and dry land. Endless desert ran for thousands of miles with communities mostly hidden underground. The majority of the land was unable to bear life in its poisoned ground. This led to food, water and radiation medication being precious commodities and highly sought after.

Condensed water pills were the easiest to come by, the new world had flooded the market with the tiny silver balls ever since they worked out how to purify and compress sea water. Then came the various types of medication, this was often expensive and watered down by dealers in order to expand their profits. Poorer societies were often familiar to radiation burns and bad health. The hardest to find was good food, many unsavoury substitutes were available and often aided the abundance of sickness. Real meat was rare and considered a delicacy to most Scratch dwellers.

Dryton was a typical Scratch dwelling; poverty was rife and illness a common sight. Like most surviving communities in this land, Dryton was situated on a small wealth of resource. Once upon a time the area sported a river and although now dry, diamonds had been embedded in its banks. Diamonds were still of good value in certain parts of the world. This had led to the town being fought over and run by numerous tyrants over the years. The inhabitants never capitalised on the resource themselves, but it meant work and a chance of survival.

Her sister, Nanika, had rushed off that morning due to some commotion in the town square above ground and had not returned since. It was drawing close to midday and the sun was starting to warm the underground chambers unbearably. Sweat poured from every part of Danika’s body, she was dehydrated, her throat was so dry it hurt to swallow. Every time she tried to sit up her head spun, leaving her nauseous, so she lay on her back trying to pace her breathing, trying to count in her head to calm her uncontrollable shaking.