Chapter 8: Diggin Into One’s Roots

Sometime in June 2350 AD...

Somewhere in the remains and ruins of former San Antonio, Texas, through the haze of the overhead deadly muck dust storms that permeate most of North and Central America, is the presence of several dome cities. A tunneling maze of surface and underground networks connects through the various forgotten buildings. New enclosed factories and homes, mixed with decaying skyscrapers, suburbs, and various homesteads, fill the scenery. It is a sign of revitalized progress.

Long renamed New Houston, the great city of central North America, remains as the bastion of former Texas. One dome is continuously open as various space freighters and shuttles depart or land. Various planetary defense emplacements line the outer districts, some even mounted atop abandoned skyscrapers. A place of death and life entwined together, mankind continues to work. Various vehicles, built to withstand the toxic environment, drive and operate through different sections of the city.

Unlike some of the other abandoned cities in North America, New Houston is far more active, more orderly, and more stable, a beacon of hope in an orange and brown, sandy, and utterly deadly landscape, where the trees are all but gone. If Waterville, DC, did not exist, then most certainly, New Houston would serve as North America’s last surviving capital city.

However, the hint of green hovercraft vehicles could be seen traveling towards the city. Unlike the common wheeled gray and rustic electric vehicles, hovercraft are much faster, more nimble, and capable of reaching speeds that human-powered vehicles cannot. The green craft seemed all but alien, perhaps better than anything humanity had ever seen before.

Upon reaching street level, one of the enclosed dome structures, a vast, more rectangular structure, could be seen: a vast warehouse, with hints of rising smokestacks, and an American flag waving from the top. On the sides of the building, in bold black letters, is the name “Darin Industries: Rebuilding Humanity’s Future.”

Through the mostly unused streets, a series of connecting enclosed tube tunnels would link to nearby domes. Compared to the humans who walked around outside in survival suits and breathing apparatuses, the humans inside the domes and tunnels had little to no reason to worry. The nearby building to Darin Industries is a smaller structure, built over the remains of a former shopping mall.

Inside the area were what appeared to be living quarters, both lavish and luxurious. It was little more than a hotel, a place for the Texas elite to reside and enjoy their riches. While it wasn’t particularly active in terms of population, there was still activity present. A heavy-set human and Yutilian are seen walking together through the hallways, holding hands as they make their way to one of the closed bedrooms. The man appeared to be in his late 60s, but the Itrean seemed completely unfazed, dressed in a golden silk dress, her head feathers long and yellow, ready to enjoy the man regardless of the gray hairs seen across his forehead.

Progressing down the rather elongated, carpeted spiral staircase was an alcove on the lower floor, an area that led to an open bar. Through the carved wooden tables, the occasional couple or group of friends could be seen sharing drinks with one another. While mostly human-based couples were present, the Itrean women could be seen off and on. Each one was different, dressed differently, their eyes glancing for the various lone human beings to be with, most importantly, the wayward men.

Among these men was Darin, the cowboy, who was dressed in similar attire as he had been before. Sitting alone on one of the nice barstools overlooking the low-volume TV displays, Darin would keep his hand hovering over his glass of alcohol, savoring the taste every time he took a sip. The ice cubes would jingle continuously, producing the harmonic sound of ice clinking against glass. The bartender was busy, keeping his distance, serving other patrons while Darin drank in peace.

“Christopher Darin...,” a sultry and somewhat deep female voice could be heard not far from him. “There’s the rapscallion I’ve heard so much about...”

The Spanish accent could be heard in her voice. Darin turned his head to look at a scarlet-like woman, a human woman wearing a lavish red dress that rode her dainty frame, with tan skin, short black hair, and facial features reminiscent of a woman born in Mexico. She was adorned with a golden necklace, diamond and ruby rings on a few fingers, not including an engraved bracelet. The dress would glimmer from the overhead lights as Darin recognized her. Meanwhile, she stood with a glass similar to his, only half empty.

“Ah, Renata the 2nd, I reckon,” Darin commented to her in confidence. “I pondered how much longer before I had a one-on-one conversation with one of my great Mexican supporters.”

“And I still wondered how much longer before I end up hearing your real voice again,” she replied to him, shaking her glass in a hint of aggravation. “Where’s your Native American friend of yours?”

“Natch is still busy handling the arrangements for the hotel visit today. I suspect tomfoolery from the local workers. They ain’t used to the influx of North America’s greatest elite all comin’ to one place. Plus, he had other business arrangements he needed to handle.”

“And they aren’t used to you, either, gringo...”

“ ... Oh, Renata...” Darin lightly shook his head before putting his glass on the table. “How much you’ve stayed the same all those years ago.”

“I’ve always been true, Darin ... not like you. It seems to me that you’ve really changed these last several months ... ever since ‘they’ started showing up.” She gestured to one of the Yutilian women who was getting close to a rich bachelor on the other side of the room.

“Darn tootin’,” he said to her. “Things change, Renata ... We all enjoy the dome roofs over our heads ... at least until the Itreans came in and humanity decided to hand it all over to them.”

“ ... They aren’t going to touch your company ... you know that...”

“That’s what my opponents always say, but I strongly doubt that ... give them something, and they’ll take it all. Trust me, if you work in these forms of businesses long enough, you can see it a mile away. Sure, it won’t happen right now, but in a couple of years, it’ll be there before you know it.”

She paused and took a quick drink. “So how goes the meetings?” she asked.

“About as predictable as bringing a cattle herd into a lightning storm. Some people offer their support, others not so much. You do your best, but I reckon the Itreans are already moving ahead, making claims on any of the millionaires and billionaires they can sweep away to their cause. The first target is the politicians ... and once you have the politicians, you have the governments under your control.”

“And they don’t even have to do much either...,” Renata sneered at it. “The putas sicken me...”

“I wonder exactly so?” Darin remarked. “I’ve always heard you voice your opinion at times. Sometimes I think you don’t exactly like what’s going on with Project Frankenstein, like you’re ready to give up, but then you jump ahead and tell everyone to get on with it and dump every piece of currency in my lap.”

“I’m just realistic ... and looking out for an amigo like you. I remember what you were like ... when we dated, when we were teenagers, at least before you met that stuck-up puta that you called a wife.”

“That was before the Itreans, ... and as I recall, we didn’t exactly leave on good terms, yet you keep jumpin behind my bandwagon.”

“I just keep going back and forth ... you were such a spoiled rich kid.”

“Heh ... Look who’s talkin now? You always like the pesos, Renata. The more the merrier. You couldn’t exactly kick away that spendin habit of yours, unless that’s changed these last several months.”

“ ... I did...,” she confessed, taking a hard chug of her drink. “It...” she sneered again in frustration. “It’s all their fault ... for coming to our planet.”

Darin took a drink from his glass, seeing that it was near empty. “Well, I can tell you that Project Frankstein is proceeding as scheduled ... The Rampage is undergoing its nice little renovation as we speak.”

“You really think that a single little warship is going to stop their entire fleet?”

“There’s that doubt again ... Don’t you worry, now, ... I got plenty more being planned.”

“And when are the Itreans going to stop it from being built? ... Just clear your bank account, instead.”

He shook his head and briefly waved his pointer finger. “They don’t hold that power yet. The Rampage is specifically being launched before that happens. By then, it’ll already be too late.”

“ ... Hmm...,” she took another sip of her drink.

“And ... there’s a place for you too. Natch isn’t the only one comin’ with me, Renata. I can sense that you’re ready to jump the planet too.”

“You’re wrong on that. I very much prefer to stay here.”

One of the Itrean women, a T’rintar Shal’rein woman, stepped up close to face Darin. She wore a lavish purple-and-green dress, her gray-scale skin, fin ears, and bountiful breasts poked against her clothing. She placed one of her four-digit fingers to her hips and gave a defiant look to Darin and Renata, being taller than both of them. Her fin tail swung a bit.

“Good mating,” the Shal’rein said in her dilapidated English. “Offer many children ... Part Gersin ... make many milk for babies. Guaranteed to make happy male ... make hink happy.” She gave a mean look to Renata. “Strong, no damage easy ... Not like her. Willing to become mate ... while male has many mates...”

“Get the fuck out of here, shark!” Renata almost screamed at her. “Puta madre...” Her bottled rage could be seen in full force as the T’rintar Shal’rein only sneered, baring her teeth at her. It was enough to briefly disrupt everyone’s talking in the bar, before they continued on as if nothing had happened.

Darin waved her hand at the Shal’rein, dismissing her. The shark-like woman listened to the cowboy before she walked off, almost lifting her tail in an act of defiance, a form of flicking them both off.

For a little while, Renata said nothing as she practically slammed her glass to the table, gesturing to the bartender to fill her glass again.

“I’m not talkin about leaving Earth for good, Renata,” Darin told her. “The Rampage isn’t going to be built for that ... not a lick and a promise, ya hear?”

“I know exactly what you mean,” she replied. “And the answer is still no.”

“No, I imagine not,” he lightly glanced at her. “But I know why you always feel inclined to be one of my supporters, even if you still don’t like me.”

“Ehh ... I don’t hate you. You’re ... better now, assuming you keep this up.”

Darin lightly shook his head. “You don’t have to hold back, Renata. We took each other’s virginity ... for that, I always appreciate it, but I know I haven’t always been your type, not having the same amount of money as your husband, that is. But I know the reason why you support the cause ... why Earth matters...”

“ ... And what is it?”

“Because they’re movin in, Renata. You’re becoming yesterday’s news ... and your husband is startin to look at them more and more...”

“Ergh...,” she remarked in frustration. “I knew what was coming the moment I started drinking with you.”

“You don’t have to deny it, of course,” Darin took a sip of his drink. “ ... But you would have to be blind not to see it. Many of the women on Earth ditched it the moment Gabatrix did his whole experiment and all ... wanted to find the greener pastures. Before you know it, the men on Earth start lookin at all the women here and look at them as valuable as gold ... willing to bend over backwards for everything they want just to keep them.”

“Don’t talk like you’re virtuous, Darin. I know what you and your previous did to one another ... the screaming matches you made across the internet were enough to wake the dead.”

“I won’t deny ... but you aren’t exactly perfect either. Your husband certainly opened his wallet as wide as he could so you wouldn’t run off to find some other buck. I reckon that many of your own supporters see a grave robber in ya, but then ... something new comes at our doorstep ... somebody that claims that Earth belongs to them...”

“Money makes the world go round, Darin...,” Renata told him. “Of course, I want money. We all want money ... even you.”

“Some ... more than others. In some ways, I liked that about you, Renata. At least you speak the truth about what you are. You want the lavish life ... the space yacht, every servant at your beck and call, the husband who’ll lick your feet clean. Some may call you greedy, but I see no harm in it, especially when those around you feel the same way. But then again...,” he looked at one of the Itreans in the distance. “You got a new problem on your hands...”

“It’s all our problems...,” she tried to deny it, taking another sip of her drink.

“Problems that are different for each person, but all related to the same thing. You hate them for not taking Earth, but because they’re competition. Every single one ... all women from different sizes and shapes ... all tryin to find a man and dig into their trousers ... includin your husband.”

“My husband would never take one of them.”

“I beg to differ. Some of them are rich ... some of them are poorer than poor, but in the end, they got the human women in the bag.” He leaned back on his barstool chair. “They can walk outside buck naked without worrying about a damn thing with the muck, while we have to get dressed like we were getting ready for nuclear winter. They’re willing to become our servants ... willing to bring their money, their troops, willing to overrule us by sheer numbers. Before you know it, Renata, your husband doesn’t have to do anything at all. One or a thousand, they’ll be crawling up that man’s legs, and he won’t have to open his wallet for them ... he’ll begin to like them ... more than you...”

The disdain could be seen on her face. She seemed ready to deny it further, her hands clutched to her drink, almost as if she could crush the glass with her bare hands. However, she took only another swig of her drink, her scowl clearly visible.

“What’s your point, Darin?” she asked him.

“Nothin ... not a damn thing,” he replied. “A part of me does wonder at times if the Itreans, the T’rintar, ... if they probably already won before we ever got started ... if not already having a headstart that’s miles ahead of everyone ... It was too easy for them to take Earth.”