Description
BIOPUNK 2
Mickle has never seen the real Martian sky. Born inside the Hewmen biodome, he grows up in a world where ancient traditions are guarded as fiercely as the air they breathe. His mother, Ari, is the village’s quiet miracle — a telepath whose mind can brush against his own, binding them in a bond deeper than words. But her gift is also a danger, one that draws the attention of those who would exploit it.
As Mickle comes of age, the fragile balance of his community begins to crack. Environmental collapse threatens their dome, forbidden technology stirs fear among the elders, and Mickle’s own identity becomes a battleground between heritage and change. When the Ren — a brutal tribe of invaders — storm the village in search of resources and Ari’s psychic power, Mickle is thrust into a fight for survival he never wanted.
To save his mother and his people, he must confront the truth about his origins, the cost of progress, and the future of a culture on the brink. In a world where every breath is borrowed, Mickle must decide what is worth saving — and what must be sacrificed.
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EXCERPT:
This is one of my earliest memories: I’m alone in the forest, really young, about four years old and I’ve lost my mother. I’m scared, afraid I’ll never find her again. The forest is colorful, full of yummy fruit-trees. Mango, papaya, redfruit, yellowfruit, any type of fruit you can think of. My mom planted most of these trees a few years ago. She created this forest so that our tribe would always have enough food.
“Mom?” I whisper.
My mom’s name is Ari, and she’s the most beautiful and brilliant creature in the world. Without her by my side, the colors of the forest fade, and the trees turn into gnarly monsters. Even though the sun is warm, I feel cold. I feel the kind of coldness that comes with abandonment, the kind of freeze that kills orphans. I shiver, not from a physical chill but an emotional one.
“Mommy!” I yell.
I’m naked, painted green. In my tribe, everyone wears body paint to communicate things about their gender. Men are usually blue, and women pink, but there are many variations to this. Some people might choose to wear both blue and pink to show gender complexity, while others might prefer yellow, or green like me. Green body paint is a weird choice for a four-year-old boy to make, but neither pink nor blue feel right to me.
“Where are you?”
I twirl around and around, but I don’t see her. My mom has absolutely disappeared. Mom is always painted pink, so I look for pink amongst the undergrowth… and I see some. I think the splash of color is her, but when I approach, it turns out to be just a pinkfruit hanging low off a rainbowtree. Rainbowtrees have blue trunks. The fruit that grow from them come in every color and taste. Yellowfruit are sour, redfruit are sweet, greenfruit are spicy.
“Mommy!” I squeak. “Where are you?”
A breeze twirls up some fallen leaves, and I hear a familiar voice on the wind. “Concentrate… shut your eyes and focus on my words.” I do what the wind tells me to do. I close my eyes and listen. “You’re not lost,” the voice says. “I’m hiding nearby. I just want to test if you can hear me.”
“I can hear you.” I nod.
“Good,” the voice says. “Do you know who I am?”
“You’re Mommy,” I reply. “You’re Ari.”
“Very good my baby,” the wind whispers. “Do you understand what’s going on?”
I nod again. “You’re thinking to me.”
“That’s right. I’m talking to you with my mind.”
This is normal. This has happened many times before. At the age of four, I don’t know yet that telepathy is something special. The fact that Mom sometimes talks to me with her mind is as familiar to me as eggs for breakfast or playing with my wooden dolls. If you ask me, I might tell you that every mom is able to communicate telepathically. That’s not true, of course. In my whole tribe, it’s just Ari who can do that. She’s special in many ways… she was also born a man.
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