RED CHILD

RED CHILD

RED CHILD

Jess Donoho

JessDonoho.com

RED CHILD

Jess Donoho

JessDonoho.com

First Edition (c)

© 2024by Jess Donoho

All Rights Reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission of the author.

ISBN: 979-8-8693-2743-7

Cover photo courtesy of BRANO (unsplash.com)

AUTHORS NOTE

This is a work of fiction. I don’t generally set out to write a specific book. I write about things that fascinate me and one thing leads to another, and soon a story is unfolding. I do not plot out the course of the book with a beginning, middle and ending. I don’t know what will happen until I write it, so I am just as excited about what is happening next as the reader is. My books are never formula. There is rarely a love interest, a villain or a hero. Instead, there are characters that unfold as the story does. I find this to be less predictable, and more fun to experience.

You are very likely to find typographical and grammatical errors in my books. I do not have editors, proofreaders’, agents, or publishers. I love the process of producing the entire story myself. If you want perfection, there are a million authors with master’s degrees writing predictable literature. If you enjoy a good story, I am your storyteller. I hope you find happiness in the RED CHILD. Please let me know what you think at jessdonoho.com.

Dedication

Dedicated to my children who are the source of my happiness, and my mother, who is the strongest woman I know. - Jess

Contents

AUTHORS NOTE

Dedication

CONSUMATION

THE HATCH

THE RED CHILD

EARTH

TOBIAS BURLANDO

TOM MCGILL

ON THE RUN

BLACKROCK

COSO

THE RANCH

THE CHASE

TOURMALINE

THE HELIUM TRAIL

CAPTURE

THE LESSON

PENANCE

MEXICO

SIBERIA

ESCAPE

HOME

THE LAIR

CONSUMATION

The infant was born as all infants are, in the moment of passion and intimacy. When two come together to consummate their pairing deep in the core, below the chromosphere, the tachycline and into the radiative zone. Here, in the planet-melting center of the galaxy, life is being created in a blistering cauldron of gas and fire. As their energies unite, the landscape ripples with heat. These ripples give way to waves, which become tsunamis of lava. Tornados of solar winds form spectacular prominences. As the two reach their apex, fountains of molten iron and gas are spewed miles into the air. Great cyclones of fire and a blinding incandescence increases until entire planets millions of miles away are seared and baked. The entire galaxy of stars and planets is engulfed in this romantic gesture, and then it subsides. The violence will continue on the surface for an eternity, but under the surface, deep in the core lies a cluster of eggs that will incubate until they hatch, giving birth to the Children of the Sun.

During the consummation, the fiery blast completely engulfs Mercury, crystallizing the surface into a glass orb. The exposed surface of Venus is enveloped in fire and its seas dry up and forests and mountains are turned to dust, leaving behind a dead hulk that will require re-seeding and re-growing over millions of years. Earth was hit with a decreasing amount of the Suns fierce energy. Although it suffered greatly on the side facing the fiery star, the portion in the Suns shadow fared better. Life would resume with great variety. The solar storm fanned out across the galaxy. Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, and Neptune all feel decreasing effects the farther from the Sun they spin, forcing all life deep underground for millennia. Tiny Pluto, on the outskirts of the solar system, barely felt a whisper. Wave after wave continued outward into other galaxies as a ripple in space, proclaiming that in this one small corner of the Universe, a spectacular event had occurred.

As is the course of nature in our System, life throughout the galaxy is swept aside, then it is rebirthed again and again. This is a story of the Sun, but also of its third planet, Earth. The two are interconnected, and as our story threads and winds its way through eons, their fates are tied. It is in this cycle of birth and death that a single creature rises from the depths of Earth’s surface, through muck and mire, from fin to scale to wing and foot. Its evolutionary path a drunkard’s stagger through time. A creature whose form is entirely flawed, but whose intelligence allows it to submit all other creatures on this sphere. This is the story of the rise of humankind. A story of cunning, fearlessness and evil that all humans embody, even encourage in their civilizations.

†††

Mer and Zel settled into one another. Their bodies rippling with the heat of post-coital bliss. Their fingers intertwined and their eyes closed to the light. They were nestled in a gaseous stew of hydrogen and helium, but breathed deep of the oxygen, that made up a small portion of its atmosphere. As the procreator’s, they alone created life on this star. Each clutch of eggs produced would slowly build the population of this massive place. Each child of the sun would add lives to a star that made up nearly 99% of the total mass of the solar system. Each consummation of their love would cause massive upheaval and storm throughout the system, forever changing the landscapes and lives of those living there.

Children of the Sun would be born as innocents, having neither instinct nor past life memory to guide them. They would learn as they lived and be shaped by their environment and the society of others that populated the sun. As a gaseous star, the sun lacks the topography and geography of solid planets, but aside from that, societies form and tear like societies throughout the universe. Alliances are made as are enemies. Rather than war, there is simply submission, with the highest intelligence and intensity always winning out over brute force. In this way, it is far more civilized than the solid planets, whose inhabitants fight for superiority and eventually succumb to extinction, only to be replaced by another species that climbs the evolutionary ladder to dominance. The cycle is never ending and plays out over millions of years as the universe watches the theater unfold.

Within the sun’s society, the Creator’s had a unique place, for they were the sole source of procreation. As communities and factions of the sun sought to dominate others, all respected and bowed before the Creator’s. To eliminate them would be to doom all. Beyond that, the Creator’s did not participate in the politic and play of the Children. They did not have opinions or subject others to their authority. They simply represented undying love and the example of what true love and happiness was. No matter the conflict within the communities, all aspired to their example. Leading by example is the Universal foundation of all learning.

Mer and Zel floated in the gaseous photosphere, the coolest layer of the Sun. As they drifted, they surveyed their Children, encouraging them and offering gifts of carbon and cobalt, which were coveted as both prize and power in this place. The Sun has little to offer in elemental reward. Cobalt, carbon, and iron are elements that are prized above all others. They are a solid feature in a gaseous world. To own these elements is to adorn yourself with them and show it off. To have mined it from the star itself is legendary, but to have it bestowed upon you by the Creator’s themselves is a rare honor.

On a Star the size of the Sun, it takes many thousands of years for the Creator’s to completely traverse the diameter of the globe and millions of solar years to cover its entire surface. In the history of the sun, only a handful of Children of the Sun have received more than one gift of carbon or iron. These are known as the Legion. They are the wisest and most compassionate of Children of the Sun. They are icons and examples of what all Children should be. They serve to guide and lead. Their gifts are draped over their head in a net-like covering whose black or red fibers contrast with the iridescent glow of their bodies.

There are even fewer Children who have received two gifts in their lifetimes. These are called the Holy, and they mediate and deescalate disagreements and conflict. Their net-like gifts form a cowl over their head and drape over their shoulders, forming a short cape of black and brown.

There has only been one Child who has been completely gilded with gifts. His cowl is a solid sheet of carbon and iron, completely covering his head and draping down his body in layers. Elemental neon is woven into the garment, which sparks and glows in the intense solar heat. It ripples with the solar winds. This is the Lord. The judge, jury, and executioner of justice. The Lord is not an example of peace and happiness. He is a terrifying reminder of consequence. To be visited by the Lord is not a gift, it is a penalty, which is carried out in ways that are unspeakable and unthinkable. Every society needs a reminder of true consequence for your words and actions. The Lord embodies this to his very soul. To the credit of the sun’s society, his judgement was only necessary every few centuries.

The Lord is a curiosity, for while the reader might equate his task to be an aggressor or heavy handed, he was neither. The Lords’ nature was not embodied in what the planet-dwellers would call evil. He was an aberration, made by the Creator’s specifically for this task. No matter how perfect your children are, there will always be those few that are broken. Those that would seize rather than earn. Who would cheat rather than build. Those who did not learn by example or looked only for the lines between goodness that would benefit them. These needed a consequence and the Lord exemplified consequence in a most horrific way.

The Lord lived in the sun’s core, in the most inhospitable place on an inhospitable star. He simmered in a pool of heat and energy. He did not wear his gifts like a crown, but like shackles. He despised his gifts. He resented them, but he wore them of obligation. Such was his embodiment of sympathy, empathy, and care, that only he could wield the gifts of the Lord. If he were of less spirit, the gifts would consume him entirely. He wore the full weight of these gifts, wrapped around his body. He executed the will of the gifts as was required, fighting every cell of his bodily conciseness to maintain his role. His gift was a curse, and this knowledge insured that all Children of the Sun honored and respected the Lord, even as they feared him. Such great sacrifice in service to the star. Loved by all, feared by all.

The greatest punishment any Child of the Sun could endure was not death, but to be sentenced as the servant of the Lord. These children were named the Damned and were forever bound to the Lord. They were the hunters of those who would violate law. Each Damned is a witness to the Lord’s judgement and execution. The occurrence of judgments was rare in this fiery world, but each was far more painful to witness than to endure, for the punishment was less a reminder to the offender and more a lesson to all of consequence. Eventually, the wounds of punishment would heal, but the memory of the execution would remain in the hearts and minds of all who witnessed it forever.

†††

The only blessing of the gift was that the Lord was also the keeper of the clutch. The eggs that would one day be the new residents of this star. As the Lord walked the halls that were encrusted with eggs, he spoke to them. He read poetry; he spoke of good and evil and of justice and community. As they incubated, their inner light radiated outward, bathing the corridors in an ethereal blue light. Not all eggs were the same size or shape. Each was unique, as was the precious life inside them. Whether smoothly round or sharply angular, they all burned blue with the warmth of the love of the Creator’s. All except for one. In the many clutches of eggs that the Lord had nurtured to birth, this was the anomaly. It did not burn blue and clear, but was a milky red. The gasses inside the egg did not gently swirl as with the others, the gasses were a tumultuous storm that never relented. As the Lord walked past the egg daily, he often thought of destroying it before it could hatch. It reeked of negative energy. It smelled like death itself.

As the year of hatch approached, the Lord summoned his Damned and sent them ahead to announce his coming. He left his home in the core and glided through the layers of the Star to the surface. As he came into the thermocline, where most of the Children resided, they gathered in large crowds to witness his coming. Many had never seen the Lord, only heard the tales of his existence. There was no mistaking the Lord from the others. His cloak was a bright neon sign proclaiming his coming. With the hood obscuring his face, there was no emotion conveyed, which was frightening to a people who rely greatly on facial emotion to communicate. Still, there was a cheer and salute as the Lord passed their way. They stared in terrified awe, hoping he was not coming for them. As he passed, their relief was palpable. They had seen the Lord, and they were safe. This would be the topic of discussion for years to come, ‘the day the Lord passed by.’

Mer and Zel were prepared for the Lord as he came into the photosphere. Gifts of oxygen and neon were given. The neon setting over the form of the Lord as he breathed in the precious oxygen. So rare was oxygen that it was a most terrific enhancer of physical being. An immediate sense of alertness and confidence hit you as you inhaled its fragrance. It was a gift the Lord welcomed and appreciated. The Lord then bowed low to the Creator’s, and they all reclined on a thermal updraft of solar wind.

Zel was first to speak with a formal welcome to the Lord. She called him Lord Ras, as this was both title and his Child name. He closed his eyes and nodded deeply in thanks for the welcome. Mer then asked the reason for this untimely visit.

There is an unnatural occurrence in the egg clutch, said the Lord. He went on to explain the phenomenon of the red egg and his concerns.

In all the eons of time, this was truly an irregularity and it greatly concerned the Creator’s. Questions were asked about shape and size. Of placement and location in the clutch. Nothing more than the color and physical attributes was out of the ordinary. The Lord offered his opinion that it might be wise to destroy the egg now rather than allow it to hatch. Both Mer and Zel were stunned by this opinion. Never had an innocent been judged and executed without the opportunity to prove itself. In fact, perhaps this egg was special in a positive and healthy way, offered Zel. Shouldn’t we wait to see what it will become before we doom it too death?

The Lord did not answer, he had offered his opinions and now it was his task to execute the will of the Creator’s. He sat quietly while they debated the practical and the emotional consequences of actions taken or not. In the end, as it is throughout the Universe, the feminine won out and Zel turned to the Lord and said, if it hatches, it shall be borne to the Damned. You yourself shall raise it as your own. If it is an offense to us, you shall judge and execute at your discretion.

This was not at all pleasing to the Lord. He was shackled to these Gifts and now shackled to a hatchling. Moreover, he would likely be the death of this Child. The Lord thought for a long moment, then bowed low, turned, and drifted downward.

With his Damned announcing his coming, the throngs of Children in an entirely different part of the spinning star gathered to witness the descent of the Lord. Although they could see no emotion on his masked face, the foul disposition of the Lord was evident. There was no cheer, no salute, only a terrified, shrinking back of the crowd, who quickly dispersed into the ether lest they attract his attention. When one of such power was in a foul mood, you do not stick around to gawk at his presence. The Lord descended further into the depth and layers of the star until he reached the core. He walked directly to the bloodied egg, which he removed from the clutch and tucked into the folds of his cloak. There is a universal saying to keep your friends close and your enemies closer. the Lord was not taking any chances.

THE HATCH

The hatching was the most cheerful day in the Lords otherwise grim existence. It begins as a tapping sound. With the first tap, the Lord is on his feet scrambling up and down the corridors looking for the first hatchling. When he finds it, there is already a crack appearing in the shell. Soon, a flame darts from the thin space in the smooth oval. Others are beginning to tap and move, but the first holds his attention. Fingers reach through the crack, grasp at shell, and violently begin to pull and claw it apart. It is as if the occupant is desperately trying to escape. The sharp edges of the shell cut at the skin of the fingers and hand, leaving bloody blue streaks across the translucent surface