Our multi-generational space habitat, the Starship Cooperation, has been cruising through space for quite some time now. Although we are free of a planet rotating around a sun, we still measure our time the same way as our ancestors, minus the leap years. There are twenty-four hours a day and three-hundred-sixty-five days per year. That makes this year our fourth century in space.

I suppose it's fitting that I take on the role of President of Starship Operations on our quadricentennial year. I am the first gender-fluid president on our ship, after all. We've come a long way since our ancestors in the Earth Cooperation Project first left shore so many generations ago. Back then, there was a lot of fighting. It was hard for our forebearers to blend so many different cultures together on one tiny vessel. People fought over religion, race, gender, and sexual orientation. For a while, it seemed like they might cause their own extinction. But, time really does wonders for one's spirit of teamwork. The thought of the vacuum of space being the only place they could escape probably didn't hurt either. It's much different when you have a planet with thousands of kilometers of open land, as opposed to what is, in comparison, an aluminum can floating in space. I'm sure the ability to generate metals to expand the dimensions of the ship as needed helped as well.

In the past century, the people on the Cooperation have gotten along and had resided and worked among each other in relative peace. There is still the occasional conflict, but differences in appearance and beliefs among the people usually don't come into play in arguments anymore. Of course, I'm an exception. For all of our advances in tolerance and acceptance, it's still hard for people to accept someone who presents as a male on one day, presents as a female on another, and occasionally presents as androgynous with a mixture of both, or completely neutral by presenting as neither. It's even harder for them to accept a person like that in a position of authority. I've heard more than a fair share of derisive terms about people like me, many of which date back to the earliest years of the voyage of our vessel. They're prejudices that most people ignore because they think that such things don't exist in our peaceful modern society. The friction that so many of the crew have given me upon my election to the role of president is living proof that we're not quite as advanced as we think.

Still lost in my thoughts, I look at the head counselor, Maria Corben. She is the woman to whom I am confiding my innermost thoughts. I realize that, if anyone would understand my situation, it is her. She is even more of an exception to the rule of content among the crew than I. She has green scales instead of skin and has yellow eyes with black pupils. Everything else about her appears completely human, from her long copper hair and full red lips, to her button nose and oval face. She also has a figure that I would love to have on my most feminine days. Though her appearance suggests otherwise, her parents were both human, as we have yet to encounter alien life on our journey. She is part of what is known among the people on the ship as a 'splicer baby'.

Thirty years ago, some of our scientists began experimenting with gene-splicing techniques. It was supposed to help with cures for diseases, but some people began using them on themselves recreationally. It was extreme body modification as a means to make them stand out from the crowd. It worked on that front, albeit a little too well. We didn't have animals on the ship, only the genetic blueprints of Earth creatures, but after a heist on the DNA storage center brought the samples out into the public, they were rapidly cloned.

Once the DNA was available to the public, it was near impossible to contain. People were able to splice themselves with the various animal DNA samples, at least those that were stolen. Most chose vicious creatures such as reptiles, much like the mother of our counselor. They also chose lions, bears, and even more extreme modifications such as rhinos. The people on the Cooperation were frightened of their newly remodeled brethren, and tensions rose to levels that our ship hadn't seen since it first departed from Earth four hundred years prior.

Those people who had used gene splicing on themselves were sentenced to prison terms for illegal use of the technology. Our best scientists worked to find a way to reverse it, but their pursuits were fruitless. It seemed to be a one-way process. Gene splicing was eventually completely outlawed, the sources of the cloned DNA samples were found, and the shops that illegally sold modifications were closed and renovated into new businesses with new owners.

After their sentences were served, they were released back into the general populace. It was hard on them, but, as the other people on the Cooperation realized that they were stuck that way, they didn't give them a hard time, at least not physically. However, old fashioned racism was brewing. It was something that our ancestors had worked so hard to overcome, and once we were confronted with people we hadn't seen before, we were starting it right back up. People began referring to their brethren with augmented animal DNA as 'splicers' and viewed them as inhuman. Unfortunately, once the 'splicers' had children, it was discovered that the spliced genes were dominant, and the children would inherit their traits. They also would inherit the racism against their parents. Terms like 'splicer baby' were among the first wave of that.

Like with their parents, adults weren't cruel to them in public. However, when in private, they saw these children as less than human and imparted that belief into their own children. As for those children, the young can be much crueler than their parents. Thus, they did not show courtesy to their peers with spliced genes. The insults were just the tip of the iceberg, as the bullies would beat these children since their parents made them believe that they did not deserve to live. The teachers were at a loss as to what to do, as the ship hadn't had this kind of violence and hatred on-board in over two centuries. They would send these children home for a week or more, much like our ancestors called an out-of-school suspension.

However, their problems weren't resolved, as the parents of these bullies felt their children did nothing wrong. In a number of cases, the parents even went to the administrators of the various schools on the Cooperation to get their children back in classes and expressed their bigoted belief in-person. The school didn't want this kind of atmosphere, so at first, they tried segregated schools, supposedly to keep the children with spliced genes safe from harm.

School segregation hadn't worked on our ancestral planet, and the same was true on our ship centuries later. The bigoted parents, and even those who did not have any children, ascended to positions of power in the smaller neighborhood governments on the ship. Those local governments put paywalls on the material supplied by the ship's computer. These paywalls were above the level of funding made available to schools with splicer children, so the teachers were forced to only use older material that had been backed up from the server back when they did have full access.

Maria was one of the first children to attend these schools. She, along with the other spliced gene children and their parents, was treated badly by both children and adults in public, as the adults felt that the segregation had validated their views. On top of the mistreatment, the material being taught in schools with systemically discriminated children soon became outdated. The parents of the undereducated children protested in large numbers.

The President of Human Relations, my mother, was brought in to try to find a peaceful resolution. It was decided that, although the segregated schools were made with good intentions, they did more harm than good. The schools seemed to once again be integrated, but in reality the local governments had sinister intentions in mind. All of the schools once again had full access to teaching material, but they were distributed from local servers rather than shipwide as they had prior to segregation. This meant that the local governments could control the content of the text, and some predictably left out any accomplishments that were made by those with spliced genes while promoting, exaggerating, and at times downright lying about the accomplishments of those unaffected by gene splicing.

On top of that, the social damage of segregation had already been done. Maria and her peers were still routinely mocked, and she was constantly told that she couldn't amount to anything in her life simply because of who she was. That is the reason why she studied and worked so hard to become a counselor. She wanted to prove that she could be someone important, and she could use her position to spread compassion. Her behavior and willingness to show empathy for even those who looked down on her shows that people who were the product of gene splicing were as worthy of expressing their humanity as anyone else.

That is the main reason why I was so relaxed in my mandated counseling sessions, along with her calm and kind demeanor. We both were routinely mocked for who we were. In cadet training, my peers consistently told me to pick one gender and stick with it or that I was just changing genders for attention. When I was elected to a position of power on the ship, people insinuate that I had gotten my position simply so the President of Human Relations could put up a veneer of inclusivity, because my mother was once the President of Human Relations herself, or a mixture of both. I knew that I had gotten through to voters because of hard work and determination and tried my best to ignore the accusations of others.

Their jeers couldn't change the fact that, after many years of hard work, I was now president and she was the head counselor. We both knew that working in our positions wouldn't be the easiest because of who we were, but we both felt that we could make a difference in our positions. We were both still the same people we had always been and we didn't let our hardships change that. That was what made us both strong people, and that was what was the most important. We knew that we couldn't change the opinions of everyone, but if our demeanor and aptitudes made even one detractor believe that it was possible that we weren't so different from everyone else, that alone would make everything worth it.

It was at this point that I take my mind out of its reminiscence and bring my thoughts back into focus on the matter at hand. I am here to talk with Counselor Corben about the present, as there is no need to delve back into our pasts, and it is certainly not worth it to worry about the mistakes of our parents. We have both accomplished our dreams and are both new in our positions of power. We certainly have a lot to talk about in regards to the present, so talking about the past not only is pointless, but potentially harmful, as it would take away from our limited time allotted as president and counselor to talk about the here and now.

I begin to tell her about my first week as president, and how surprisingly dull it had been, when the ship's alarm goes off. It seems that I have just jinxed myself with my comments, as when I get up and head out into the hallway, I am confronted with a truly disturbing sight. This is something that not even my mother saw on her time on the ship, and was certainly something I thought that I would never see. The entire senior staff wing of the operational section of the ship is now in the process of a full out brawl.

I order them to stop, but it is to no avail. Maybe the staff doesn't respect me in my role as president of operations after all. Maria tries to get them to stop as well, and I think at first that her attempt had succeeded. However, after everyone stops fighting they all eerily turn their attention towards her. They shout that everything was her fault, along with people like her, and at once I understand what had started this brawl. The hatred of splicers had bubbled under the surface for several decades, and I had just witnessed it boiling over.

As the group descends towards the counselor, I practically run into the hallway. I leap into action and stand defiantly in front of her. My declaration of “get back to your stations immediately” is met with comments about how I am just as bad as "her kind” for taking the side of the “splicer-babies”. The situation is much worse than I had first thought, and at the rate that it was escalating, I am sure it will quickly get completely out of hand. Thinking fast, I loudly tell the counselor to follow me to the operations section. They are so stunned about my announcement that they begin to argue amongst themselves as to why I would even consider taking “one of those things” up to operations. I let out a momentary sigh of relief as my plan of distraction had worked, giving us enough time to get away.

As soon as the counselor and I get into the lift, I tell the artificial intelligence of the ship computer there is an emergency and give a command to close the door and proceed to the operations section. In a swift motion, we are now safe from our would-be attackers. It’s disturbing that these people were my colleagues and, I thought, my friends. As we arrive at operations, I am in for another unpleasant surprise. As we walk towards the front of the deck, it becomes clear that the entire operations section was completely empty. No one is here to monitor the ship, as everyone had left their post to join in the riot downstairs. It is clear that this is no longer merely a situation of disrespect for my position. Their desertion is tantamount to downright mutiny.

I quickly order the main computer to set the operation station systems to high alert and to lock all doors on the senior operations staff wing of the upper deck. Then I call down to the President of Security. The president acts quickly, calling down to the holding cells. Luckily, I am kept in the loop as the rioters are operations staff that worked for me. “All security personnel report to the senior operations staff wing. All of the senior operations staff are to be taken to the holding cells for inciting a brawl.” I momentarily become upset about the lack of mention about the rioters committing desertion, but I soon calm down. That kind of irrational anger will serve no purpose except to potentially make the situation worse.

As the counselor and I reach the central operations section on the bridge, I call down to the rear of the upper deck. I know that it is necessary to contact the junior operations staff, as we still have an operation section that needs to be properly staffed. I order the highest-ranking among the junior operation staff to report to the operations section and then order half of the remaining junior operation staff to report to the senior operations wing. They will likely remain there for a while. I'm glad that the engineers who designed the ship made it so that the lower area can be sufficiently operated with a small crew in times of emergency. The exact length will have to be determined once things calm down, and I have to make time to properly assess the situation.

I look over at the counselor, who looks like she had been hit by the vehicle which was called a bus back on Earth. “How are you doing, Maria?”, I ask. “I'll call down to the medical wing to let them know you are not going to report back to work. Head back to your quarters. Doctor Coleman is on staff now so I'm sure she will be able to take over for you.” Maria looks at me and seems to calm down a bit. “I could say the same for you. You’ve been through the same thing, and you look just as stressed as I’m sure I look right now.”

I sigh and shrug my shoulders. “I really wish I could, but that’s not an option right now. My authority has been challenged, and I really have to let the rest of the operations staff know that everything is alright and to continue as usual.” At that, she looks me straight in the eye. “There’s nothing usual about this. It’s been over a century since this kind of behavior has occurred on this ship or, at least, since violence has occurred on this level. No one on the ship today has ever had to deal with this kind of behavior.”

“I know, and that’s exactly why I have to continue to assert my authority. Things could easily escalate from here, and that’s the last thing that anyone needs. It’s hard enough living in the same cramped conditions for your entire life. I have to try to calm the situation down. It’s not like we can do as our ancestors did and go to port for a holiday.”

“I know, and that’s why I should stay on duty too. If we want to show that it’s business as usual, we have to conduct our business as usual. I can handle it.” I look her in the eyes, which were now burning with a conviction that I haven’t seen since she was going through the process to get her doctorate. “I know you can, Counselor. There was never any doubt about that.” I sigh, involuntarily, and continue, “all right, we both need to report to our positions, then. If anything happens, be sure to contact me immediately.”

“I will, President. Thank you.” Those words alone gave me confidence, as the words of respect for my position from someone who knows what I am going through makes me feel like I can handle things. And with that, she heads back down to the medical wing, and I head down to the senior operation staff wing. I want to make sure that everything has been handled and that the junior operation staff are settling in alright in their new positions. I also hope tensions aren’t rising. After I deal with that, I know I have to head down to the cells and confront the senior staff. I can't say I look forward to that meeting at all. So much for the uneventful start to my presidency.

As I am walking down to the senior operation staff wing, Tiffany Accado, the principal for the secondary school in the Sicilian neighborhood, confronts me. She is an elderly woman with piercing blue eyes. Her skin is pale and unusually smooth for her age. However, it's quite apparent that she’s been quite worried lately, as she has more visible wrinkles than usual, especially under her eyes. I, myself, begin to worry about what she could be concerned about. Troublingly, my worst fears are soon realized.

“Is it true that all of the operations staff are now imprisoned?” I am more than a little surprised that news has already spread outside of operations. It is my job to make sure that all people on the ship who have been affected by the actions of my staff stay safe and content. However, as of today, it appears I haven’t done a great job accomplishing that. I now owe it to her to try to calm her worries. “Only the senior operation staff have been sent to the holding cells. A fight broke out on the deck of the senior operations staff wing, and the junior staff operation staff are now handling things. There’s nothing to worry about. Once they have a chance to cool down, things will go back to business as usual.” She looks unsure and flashes me an uneasy smile. “That’s good. Everyone is worried that ship operations are falling apart.”

Her smile doesn't reassure me at all as I, too, am now worried. I can't help but wonder how much of the three hundred thousand-plus passengers on the ship were included in her assessment of “everyone”, but I don’t relay my worries. “It’s really nothing to be concerned about. There are always tensions during the transition of power on this ship. I’ve seen my fair share of it when I was simply part of senior operation staff, and my mother told me stories of tensions rising during her time as President of Public Relations. Things always calm down after everyone gets used to the new order of things.” Ms. Accado visibly relaxes. “That is certainly good to hear. I’ll let everyone know that there’s nothing to worry about.”

I don’t like the idea of gossip, but since it already started and would no doubt get out of hand if not dealt with, I decide that I can use her help. “Thanks, Ms. Accado, I appreciate it.” She looks me in the eyes and gives me one of those kinds of smiles that only kind elderly women can properly deliver. “No problem, President. You’ve been doing a great job so far. Your mother would be so proud of you.”

I smile back, doing my best to return her smile, although I still have several decades before I have enough life experience to do the smile justice. “Thanks, I greatly appreciate it.” I really do. She had been my fourth form instructor when I was young and had always been one of my favorite teachers. Her opinion still means a lot to me. I just hope that I can instill that level of confidence in the operations staff. It is true that every past appointment of a president led to some level of anxiety. However, nothing has ever reached the level of dissent that had occurred this afternoon. At least, my mother never mentioned anything like that while I was living at home, and certainly nothing of the sort happened during her presidency.

Ms. Accado and I part ways, just as I reach the lift that leads to the senior operations staff wing. After our conversation, I can't help but think about the wisdom my mother imparted onto me when she learned I had hopes to one day ascend to the position of president myself. Although, while she was alive, I worked as a junior operations officer whereas she had been a communications director prior to her election to President of Public Relations, I use her wisdom every day in all of my decisions. However, I cannot connect that wisdom to current events. It's a completely new, dangerous, unprecedented situation. I wish more than anything that my mother was here.

Riding down the lift, I really hope that I can get through to the senior staff. Most of all, I hope that this situation really will be just a temporary one. The last thing I want to do is to see the extension of the lockup period of these people, many of whom I had worked with for several years. That train of thought has to be temporarily derailed, however, as I have to deal with the junior staff right now. The senior staff will have to wait.

I summon up all of the courage I have and make sure that I put on an aura of authority. I try my best to portray the image of a person in power without appearing too stand-offish. It is a feat that I have always attempted, but it’s a tight-rope act that’s hard to pull off. I thought I was doing a good job at it, but it appears that the senior staff had seen through my act. I push my doubts aside and remind myself that it had been years of hard work and dedication that had resulted in my election to this position. Thinking that I was just acting, rather than being, in charge won't help anyone. I am in charge and I earned this position. I deserve my new position, and it is high time I made sure that not only the operations staff understand that, but that I do as well.

Any lingering doubts have to be pushed to the back of my mind, as it is now time to gauge the level of confidence the rest of the operations staff have in my leadership firsthand. I walk through the doors leading to the senior operations staff wing, hoping that the junior operation staff aren't as hostile as the seniors.

I fear for Counselor Corben, but I am sure she will be alright. She is amazingly strong, so I'm sure she can handle things. It shouldn't be as bad for her in the medical wing as it was up here. On top of that, I'm positive that Doctor Coleman will help her as well if she gets too stressed. They are both such compassionate and resilient women. As the lift reaches it's destination, I only hope that I can convey those traits as well.

The junior staff members are discussing the situation as I walk in. Aaliyah Rahman, a bronze-skinned, raven haired woman who I considered one of my closest friends, is currently speaking to the others. “But this hallway was completely empty. There’s no way everyone was locked up.” It looks like I arrived here just in time, as Alliyah's comment is exactly what I was hoping to hear. I am glad that the situation didn’t get a chance to escalate among the junior staff, so I have an opportunity to set matters straight without resistance.

However, my hope is short lived as Robert Jackson, a brown-haired whisp of a man, replies with the statement that I had feared most. “My brother said he was going to teach that splicer baby a lesson. I’m sure the president locked everyone up. He’s always sticking up for that unqualified freak.” Today is a feminine day for me, but I'm not going to correct the pronoun usage. Besides, none of the junior staff have seen me today. However, I definitely have to do something before things get out of hand with the junior staff as well. Luckily, I got here before another brawl broke out. “There will be no talk like that, Mister Jackson. She’s part of this community, and she deserves your respect. As to the last statement, she earned her position just like everyone here.”

Bob's pale skin seemed to immediately turn two shades of red and his blue-green eyes appeared to have lost their fire somewhat. It’s clear that he had no idea that I had entered the room. “I’m sorry ma’am. We were just getting nervous since all of the senior staff are gone. It was a slip of the tongue due to anxiety. It won’t happen again.” It is clear that his words went deeper than mere anxiety, but now is not the time to press the matter. I have a situation to try to get under control, and although Mr. Jackson's comment was a part of it, I had already made it clear that derogatory remarks would not be permissible.

Having difficulty controlling my nervous thoughts, I find myself once again thinking about Counselor Corben and wondering what can be done about the situation. It is sad that so much of the staff seems to be against her for something that she did not ask for and can’t control. I had at first thought that we were kindred spirits in that regard, and maybe we would have been centuries ago. However, the pure vitriol lobbed at her was something that I have only seen in historical recordings. I have suffered verbal scorn, but a good portion of the operations staff were ready to impart physical harm on her and had fought their own peers in trying to do so. I just hope that she has more supporters on this ship than detractors. As I look at the waiting operations staff members, I realize that I had lost myself in thought and regain my composure.

I then address the junior staff on the senior staff wing. “Ms. Rahman is correct that the senior operations staff is currently in the brig. And, other than the beliefs he expressed, Mr. Jackson was correct in his statement as well. The senior staff members were engaged in a brawl when I arrived, and it did indeed stem from negativity towards Counselor Corben. I haven’t yet assessed the situation fully, but for now, I ask that you all be prepared to serve as senior officers until further notice. Because I’m asking you all to do so with no advance notice, if anyone can’t do so, I’ll make concessions, within reason. But, please understand the circumstances that led to this decision. It was done to protect the safety of this ship, and won’t remain permanent. You will all receive the benefits of the senior staff during this period and will be up for consideration for promotion once this is over, pending your performance. I thank you all during this tough time for your understanding and for your service.”

I am about to head up to the operations center, when I decide that it is best to make it clear to the entire staff that discrimination will not be tolerated. “It goes without saying, but I must make it clear. There will be absolutely no tolerance for discrimination of any kind. You are all here to maintain the ship, instilling confidence in all onboard this ship, colleagues and non-staff alike. I expect that you all will remember that in your actions, as well as in your words.”

Mr. Jackson and Ms. Rahman both immediately reply, “Yes, President”, followed by the rest of the junior staff. Satisfied that the situation here is under control, I walk into the lift and give the command to bring me up to the operations center. This is the most important part of my attempt to normalize the situation. I know that the most senior among the junior staff that I had assigned to the operations center can handle running the ship, but the abruptness of the situation has complicated things. I have to make sure that the operations center is secure, and I need to bring the staff up to speed on the situation as well.

The lift reaches the top of the ship, and I step onto the main deck of the operations center. The junior staff here were rigid, nervous, and full of heightened senses. The most senior among them, Mario Rodriguez, spoke up as soon as I entered, “Greetings, President”. Everyone looks at me with anxious eyes. I decide to get through the official briefing first and then I’ will do my best to try to ease tensions a bit.

“Hello everyone. You were all brought up here because there was a brawl on the senior staff wing, and all senior operations staff have been temporarily detained in the brig until the situation can be properly assessed. It has come to my attention that some of the staff feel strongly about Counselor Corden’s new position. As I said to the other members of the junior operations staff, discrimination will not be tolerated at all. You all are now staff on the deck of the operations center and are the people that are looked up to the most to keep this ship in order. I expect your decorum to meet those expected standards.”

I look around, noticing that the staff still seem troubled, and continue my off-the-cuff speech “That said, I know that your promotions were sudden. You will be expected to keep these positions for some time until the situation can be properly assessed and dealt with. Due to the fact that there was no advance notice, I will not be against anyone who has a reasonable objection towards working on their new post. However, as I said in the announcement, know that your assistance at this time will be most appreciated, and you will receive all the benefits of the senior operations staff during this period. You will also be first in line for promotions, pending your performance.”

I ease a bit, and continue, “I know this is a tough time for everyone.” I then process the thought that will send a signal to my integrated artificial intelligence, the Artificial Neural Network Intelligence Entity, to turn off the sound recorder. “Off the record, how is everyone doing?” Mr. Rodriguez, still in a nervous, rigid stance stated, “We’re fine, ma’am.” I smiled at him and continued. “Relax, Mr. Rodriguez. I know that my position as president is new, and this situation is hard. But you don’t have to be so tense around me.” He visibly relaxed, and his dark brown eyes seem to sparkle a bit. “Thanks, ma’am. I don’t speak for everyone, but I know that you’ll handle things well. I just hope that this situation won’t last long.” I give him a half-smile, with a little involuntary nervousness apparent on my face as well. “I hope the same thing, Mr. Rodriguez”.

I know that I have to head down to the holding cells. However, even though I want to find out the particulars of the situation, the thought of doing so emotionally drains me. I try my best not to repeat my display of anxiety and address the staff of the command center one final time before I head to the bottom of the ship. “You all seem to be handling everything well up here. If there are no questions, I have to be heading to the detention cells.” I actually hope that there would be some questions, to delay the inevitable. However, just as I had expected, the junior operations staff were quite capable of running things in the stead of their senior brethren.

I once again process the thought to ANNIE that will turn the data recorder back on and straighten myself up. “OK everyone, I now leave the operations center in your capable hands. If there are any further problems, don’t hesitate to contact me.” At that point, I somewhat reluctantly enter the lift. Fighting off my anxiety, I command the lift's artificial intelligence to take me down to the detention cells. I have to face the inevitable, as even though I want to see how Counselor Corben is doing, I know that I have to face the senior staff first. I am now about to find out exactly what happened during that brawl.

I can't fathom hurting someone over something they can't control, but that kind of thought had amplified way beyond what I have ever imagined. I just hope that the violence doesn't go beyond the senior operations staff. Most of all, I can't help but worry about the fact that the operations center was left abandoned, as that is a situation that I couldn’t fathom occurring before this week. That makes me fear that this goes beyond bigotry towards Maria Corben. I think of all of the people with spliced genes on the ship, old and young. They make up a minority on this ship, but they are still our peers. I hope they are not in danger as well.

Just as the lift is approaching the holding cells, my aural sensor goes off. I mentally tell ANNIE to initiate the video link. It seems that my trip will be postponed after all, but not in the way I had hoped, as Tiffany Accado is on the line. “President, I'm sorry to call you directly, but I didn't know what else to do. They need help at Caperstone’s Bakery. It’s an emergency! A fight was started by the mother of one of your staff. Emily Caperstone is being attacked." I respond without hesitation, “I’m at level one now. Help will be there as soon as possible. Don’t intervene. Keep yourself safe until they arrive.”

“Cancel the lift to the holding cells.” I call down to security and relay all the information I have about the situation. The President of Security immediately ordered, “Security personnel to level 4, Main Street. There is a fight in progress at Caperstone’s Bakery". I then order the lift to proceed to level 4 as well. Ugh, I can't believe there has been two fights in one night. Once more, I can't help but wish that my mother was here, so I can seek her advice. Although, I’m not sure how much help she could give me, as this is beyond even what she had to deal with.

It seems that the problem goes beyond the operations staff. I just hope that it didn’t seep too far into the population. I silently curse the people who had instituted the segregation. Whatever their intentions, it just made the hatred part of the system. If history has taught us anything, systemic prejudice is a lot harder to fight.

"Ms. Corben... Maria. It's true that we have only officially worked together for a short time. However, if you factor in the fact that we attended University at the same time, we've actually known each other for years. I feel I've gotten to know you pretty well during that time, so I'm sure that you're going to want to go right back to work after you leave here. As your counselor, I'd advise against that. You've been through a traumatic experience and you need time to relax and relieve the stress you've suffered from this ordeal. As your friend, you don't have to face this alone. I can fill in for you for as long as you need to take. You have deserved to take a holiday long before this, so seize this as an opportunity to take care of yourself for a change."

At first, I felt myself getting upset at Doctor Coleman when she told me that I should take a break. I need to be strong. I need to continue on despite the harassment against me. But, as I look at my hands, I realize I have not stopped shaking since it happened. I can't get the image of so many people coming towards me, wanting to do me harm. It boggles my mind that so many people would hurt me simply for being a child of a splicer. I simply adopted a genetic trait that I had no control over. Begrudgingly, I have to admit that I am in no condition to help anyone if I can't attend to myself first. Elizabeth Coleman is more than capable of dealing with the mental health of the people on this part of the ship. After all, she managed to convince me to help myself.

I was planning to go back to my living quarters to relax, but at the last second, I decide to head down to Main Street instead. It's been a long time since I've allowed myself some time to just window shop. This area was designed to be a replication of the main streets that were once common in the smaller towns on Earth. It was originally designed to give the original crew a comfortable sense of feeling like they were at home. Now, centuries later, it serves as a living memorial to the planet that we left behind. But, most importantly, it's just fun to go down there and browse. There are so many little shops that offer pretty much anything you could imagine.

When I get there I am greeted by the fresh smells coming from the hydroponic garden. I'll definitely have to pick up some fruits and vegetables while I'm down here. There is so much you can do with fresh tomatoes. I love trying out recipes from the archives. The Earth was such a large place, with so many different cultures. It would take forever to try every recipe we had stored in the ship computer's storage system. However, it's definitely fun trying to do it.

Many of the recipes call for meat, though. No animals were brought on-board when the ship left the Earth's orbit, as our ancestors felt that they would make the ship unsustainable. They were almost certainly correct, but I can't help but wonder what actual meat was like. We have substitutes, which are quite tasty. Of course, with no reference to go by, I have no way of knowing how close they are to the real thing. Earth was so abundant in meat that they served it quickly in places called "fast-food restaurants". I wondered just how fast these restaurants really were, and what a beef burger with cheese would actually taste like. We have substitutes made from seasoned vegetables and fungi, but I can't imagine that plants actually taste much like animal meat, no matter how they are seasoned.

I laugh inwardly as I catch myself drifting off into some odd thoughts. I always do that when I come down here. Elizabeth was right. I needed a break. This is the best way to get my mind off of things. I walk into the grocer and grab some tomatoes, oregano, onions, garlic, salt, flour, and yeast. I also go into the cooler and grab some cheese, or at least our approximation of it. I have always wanted to try a pizza, and I had been pleased to find a recipe that was relatively easy to follow on the computer in the library during my last journey into the Earth archives. I pay the clerk with my work earnings, and he bags my purchases. It always amuses me that we keep up this tradition of traveling to the town center to shop when our orders could just as easily be ordered from the town computer and then printed out or they could be purchased from one of these stores and sent up to our homes. However, I know that tradition was important to help keep us grounded.

I walk down the sidewalk and see many shops with handmade items. The people who don't work under our presidents usually work down here on Main Street, and they often make such wonderful things. I really admire the craftsmanship that goes into the items that are for sale here. That's one of the reasons why I went into training as a mental health officer. Well, actually, the main reason was that I genuinely liked to help people. The second reason was that I'm not good at crafting anything. In school, my clay pots always came out looking like the pictures in the database of the ashtrays that were once common on Earth. I would not make any money-making things like that. Since the original crew didn't include any plants that could be rolled up and smoked, an ashtray would be completely useless to anyone aboard this ship.

I continue to walk down Main Street until I see the shop that sold electronics. I walk inside to see what kind of augmented reality programs are available that I can use to relax later tonight. I then notice a table that displays many different breeds of robot dogs and cats. My mind starts to drift off towards Earth again, wondering what it would be like to have an actual animal as a pet and companion. I spent a lot of time in my youth reading the newspapers from the Earth archives and I remember reading an article that claimed that having a pet to cuddle greatly reduced your stress levels. I could definitely use a cuddly pet right about now.

I begin to think that there might be something to that study since I was feeling more relaxed just thinking about it. I turn to the racks of robot animals and spot two small pets I haven't seen before. They are called a rabbit and a guinea pig. The rabbit looks super cuddly, while the guinea pig looks like a small loaf of bread with fur. I find myself laughing at the absurdity of the latter, and I can't help but want to pick it up. When I do so, I'm surprised at how nice its little plump body and spiky brown and white fur feel. It is both cuddly and adorable.

Petting the little robot animal definitely makes me feel better. I now have a smile on my face for the first time since this morning, so I begin to think that the day might just turn itself around. However, my thoughts soon came crashing down to reality. A spine-chilling scream comes from the end of Main Street, near the fountain in the middle of Market Square.

I know I should just let security handle it since I was here to relax. However, I can't do it, as it is just not in my nature to leave the helping of people to others. If someone is in need of assistance, I am always the first one there to help as best I can. Once I get there, though, I'm sure the attacker wishes that I had ignored my instincts. The mother of one of the men who tried to attack me, Carla Jackson, is kneeling on top of my own mother, pounding her so hard that mom's blood is dripping from her fists.

One security officer is trying to pull Carla off my mother, while two others are just standing there watching. At this point, I think Carla says something, but I am not sure, since it feels as if the blood in my body has risen straight up into my head. Before I know it, all sense of reality flows out the window, and I jump at Carla. I am now on top of her, doing exactly what she had done to my mother, only trying my hardest to do it twice as hard.

I feel like I have just began to beat her when I feel two arms circle around me. I struggle at first, then look up, to see a security officer and Pim Anong, the President of Operations herself. The president gives me one of her patented smiles, crooked and awkward, but obviously full of sincere intent. "Don't worry Maria, the medical team is here. Your mother will be OK. I will personally make sure she gets the best care possible."

At that, Carla just laughs, and I become enraged, even more than before. Luckily, the security personnel had both of us in restraints at that point. "That abomination got what she deserved. The real question is: what about me? Did you see what that freak did to me? Did you hear that inhuman hiss it let out when it pounced at me? We're not safe with freaks like that on board."

I can't listen to any more of the acid coming out of her mouth. "What about my mother? She didn't do anything to you, but you beat her anyway. You're conscious and talking. My mother isn't so lucky."

The witch just laughed again. "All of you freaks should be put down. It's only a matter of time before your animal instincts kick in and you reveal yourselves to be the monsters you really are."

I stare coldly at her, completely surprised at not just her lack of compassion, but at her complete lack of reality. "The only monster I see here is you."

The president put her arm around my shoulder and addressed the security officer. "I'll take her down to the holding cell myself." The guard looked surprised, but answered "Yes, President."

When we got to the elevator, the president turned toward me with a sad look on her face. "I'm sorry that I have to detain you at all, as I know without a doubt that I would have done exactly what you did in your position. You'll only be there overnight, but I'm afraid we're going to have to ask that you be placed off duty for a while. Not because of your actions today, but for all of the stress you've been under because of this nonsense. Doctor Coleman will take over your duties, and I'm afraid you'll be under her care for a while."

I just nod. All of my energy has been completely drained from my body. I look over at the president and sigh. "Did I really hiss at her?" The president looks surprised at the question, then frowns. "I'm afraid you did."

I furrow my brows in thought. "Maybe we really are part animal. No one knows the full side effects of gene splicing. Maybe we can't be trusted to keep our emotions in check when we're in the middle of a dangerous situation."

The president surprised me and actually pulled me into a hug. "You have more human compassion than most of the people on this ship. You just did what anyone would do to protect their mother, myself included."

I actually smile, in spite of everything that has just happened. In all the time I have known her, I have never seen the president allow herself to show her human side while she was on duty.

My name is Kevin Jackson. I am the third man in my family to carry that name. It used to mean something on this ship, but it doesn't hold much weight anymore. My grandfather was the President of Security, my father had a doctorate in human physiology and was the Vice President of Operations. I, on the other hand, simply work the cash register at Main Street Electronics.

As I stare up at the clock, I can't help but think about what time it would be right now if we didn't use a system based on the rotations of a planet that is who knows how many light-years away. All this adherence to a foreign culture that none of us know about first-hand really annoys me at times. Our experiences should be our own, not that of some people on a swamp-covered ball in a galaxy named after cow juice that no one here has ever set foot upon, let alone visited.

If I didn't need the money, I would gladly quit my job. I am really sick of having to deal with people complaining about the most mind-numbingly inane things, such as the lack of colors available on our line of robot puppies. The people on this ship are so obsessed with emulating everything from the planet our ancestors left behind, but they still end up asking for replications of pets in crazy colors that never existed. When we had to study Earth history in upper form, I don't remember seeing anything about phlox poodles, but I get dozens of requests for pets in insane shades like that every day.

"Ugh, finally", I think to myself. Oh-seventeen-hundred hours on the tick. It will be a relief to leave this madhouse and get home to my wife and sons. I can not express just how glad I am that my son Jonathan put in the request to authorize my use of the operations staff corridors. I'm even more pleased that our last President of Operations approved it. It's so much quicker to go through the staff corridor just outside of Main Street than it is to walk to the housing district directly. In my case, it's not merely a matter of favoritism over the fact that my sons are part of the operations staff on this ship. An accident at my old job left me as half of the man I once was, literally.

I used to work as a digital component programmer in a simulated sawmill that was located in the ship's artificial re-creation of the Scottish Highlands back on Earth. It was a great job until the electronics on the saw arm malfunctioned and I lost my lower limbs in an excruciating minute that felt like an eternity. The audit of the accident showed that the machine's processor was faulty. As it was a hardware issue rather than a software one, the Treasurer of the Scottish Highlands, Angus Loughty, authorized complete payment for my hospital stay and rehabilitation, as well as for the robotic appendages I would come to possess.

My recovery was not enjoyable, not that you could ever call staying in a hospital after losing limbs fun. The recovery was slow and painful. On top of that, hospital food is always bland and somehow even seems just as sterile as its rooms. The only thing that kept my mind sane during the month I was forced to live in the Highlands Hospital was the regular visits by my family. I highly doubt I would have made it through the ordeal without them. My mind was not in a good place, which I suppose is to be expected when you lose half of what makes you you.

There is but a single bright side to that ordeal. My pension will still grow as long as I work, even if it is not at the sawmill. That was music to my ears, as I got as far away from that God-forsaken piece of artificial land as soon as I could. I moved with my wife and infant sons from a simulated Earth location to another location that is original to our vessel. We left our residence in the artificial Scottish Highlands to reside in the residential living quarters in Adventuressia. The only part of this place that is a simulated location is its Main Street, which is based on those that used to be found in the Earth's United States of America, centuries before our ancestors took off into space onboard the Cooperation.

My sons are now grown men, but my entire family still lives off Main Street. However, we're now in a much more convenient location. It is nice here, since, due to the fact that my sons are officers on this ship, we're allowed to live in the living quarters inside the area reserved for senior operations staff members. Plus, now with my access to the staff corridors, I can leave work and go straight home.

Our sons have their own living quarters, separate from my wife and me, but our family is still together. The three spacious living quarters, each with their own toilet area and shower, are combined with a kitchen and a living room in a structure that has the facade of a domicile designed following Victorian-era architectural norms back on Earth. It bothers me a bit, but I certainly can't fault it for its location.

Even as a juvenile, I was a genius when it comes to programming. So, as you can imagine, living on a ship sailing through space meant that I had my pick of careers. By the time I reached adulthood, I didn't want my life to be determined by the career path of my father and grandfather, so I went against their wishes and took a job outside of operations or politics. That was the biggest mistake of my life.

I chose the Scottish Highlands simulation because I thought it was so beautiful and lush with vegetation. After the accident, all that I can do is look at it and see nothing but its simulated components, and I can't help but see that even its existence is artificial. It attempts to mimic something so precisely that no one on this ship has ever actually seen. Everyone on board this ship only has an inkling of what Earth really looked like due to the digital archives created centuries ago by our ancestors.

To be honest, I can't help but see every part of the ship that way now, as I feel that we can be so much more if we forge our own path in architecture and design instead of using designs created by people who died ages ago. The Main Street location allows me to remain close to my sons, who are now both officers on this ship, so I don't let anyone else know about my inner thoughts. I grin and bear it, as my family is more important to me than anything else.

When I finally leave work, on the way to the elevator, I walk past the pathetic attempt to recreate the stone, gravel, and sand that made up the faux-asphalt in our simulated, sanitized, 20th-century America-inspired downtown facade. Our ship's depiction of Main Street is so far off from the virtual augmented reality simulations that we viewed in school.

The real downtown districts from that time period had real character, style, and a sense of being that we sorely lack. The real, unfiltered, storefronts of Earth sold similar items to our stores, but the owners weren't afraid to show the dirt, grime, and decay that naturally occurred on the planet over the decades. They were actually proud of it, as our dictionary notes that they coined words for the natural aging of buildings. They took to calling them "weathered", which was seen as a positive trait. They also had phrases that emphasized their approval of natural progression, stating that "things only got better with age".

We have a clean oxygen supply throughout the ship, but Earth's atmosphere is an amazing cocktail, containing many disparate components such as nitrogen, oxygen, carbon dioxide, hydrogen, and water vapor. That's not even going into the chemical byproducts of pollution that gathers within the perimeter between the Earth's atmosphere and the cold vacuum of space. The Cooperation is always floating aimlessly through the latter, but we do our best to pretend it's not. I can't even imagine what it would be like to breathe that wonderful mix of elements into my lungs, but I'm sure it tastes a lot sweeter than the cold, sterilized oxygen that we are forced to breathe.

When I was a young boy, my parents took me to a theme park simulation in the ship's Augmented Reality Entertainment Network Archway, and even its make-believe Main Street seemed much more realistic than ours. The builders on Earth made these romanticized attractions to escape from reality, but our sterile attempts at mimicry are not an escape, they are our reality.

I can't speak from experience, of course. Maybe our downtown really is accurate. Maybe the dirty, gritty, virtual AR simulations that I experienced in school were just a fluke. It's possible Earth's downtown locations really did resemble the ARENA records of a Main Street in the theme parks back on Earth. But, if that is the case, at least the saccharine structures in those parks were real. There was a designer who wanted to bring back the joy of the Main Street storefront that he or she remembered. Our attempts to rebuild the theme park version of long-ago America are hollow. None of us ever experienced the real thing, nor did our parents, grandparents, or any other relative who was alive in our lifetime.

At least Adventuressia proper is free of ancient design from a planet none of us had ever stepped foot upon, minus the ridiculous architecture of the exterior of our domicile and that of those nearby. I have put in a request to allow re-construction of our home to something more fitting the present, but I have yet to receive a response one way or another. At least I can take comfort in the fact that the inside of our home is full of recent Adventuressian interior design practices and knick-knacks that actually mean something to our family.

As I enter the staff corridor, I am abruptly brought out of my thoughts by a blaring alarm. I curse inwardly due to the fact that I was interrupted just as my thoughts were actually turning pleasant. I quickly bring myself to attention, as alarms of any kind are incredibly rare in operations. Normally, it is smooth sailing due to the fact that our vessal largely can operate itself.

Fearing that my sons might be in danger, I hook into the computer terminal. I breathe a sigh of relief as I see it is just a brawl on main street. Not that I'm discrediting the fact that brawls in Adventuressia are in themselves alarming, because they are so rare here. My chief concern, however, is my family, and I know they are safe at work or at home. Besides, I definitely don't want to go back to Main Street right after I just got out of work. I couldn't do much to help anyway with my broken, nearly half robotic body.

As I approach the senior operations staff housing area, I continue to ignore the alarm. Thankfully, I don't have to do so for too long because as I exit the corridor, I can no longer hear its incessant blaring. I breathe a sigh of relief for the silence. I am also calmed by the fact that I can see our home and everything here seems peaceful. Assured that the alarm only applies to Adventuressia's hideous Main Street, I head towards home with a sense of peace for the first time today. I have shaken off my internal nihilism, so now is the time to kick back, relax, and enjoy some downtime with the people I love.

Chapter Six

I was about to open the door expecting a well-needed rest, but the atmosphere in my household was anything but relaxed. I was surprised to see that my son, Junior Operations Engineer Stephen Jackson, had arrived home before I did. He has been waiting for me to arrive home from my shift at the electronics shop. I can tell by the angry look on my son’s face that something bad had happened at work. The fact that my son is standing here means that he likely hadn’t been involved in the brawl, thank God. However, the look on his face made me apprehensive. What on virtual Earth had made my son so angry?

Stephen tells me that he rushed here as soon as he could because he was adamant to get to our home before any of the other operations or security staff did. I was worried by the fact that people working under the operations and security presidents would have come here if my son hadn't done so first. I couldn't help become fearful for the rest of my family. I don't have to wait long to discover that the nervousness I feel is warranted, as my son is not the harbinger of good news He tells me that he only has a few minutes of break to talk to me before he has to return to his new position as a member of the senior operations staff, but he was adamant to his supervisor that he needed to leave then and there. He is nervous, but attentive, as he seems to be aiming to make the most out of the small amount of time he has. I became dismayed when I was told about what happened to my wife and oldest son. However, I am so proud that my youngest cares about his family at least as much as I do.

I sit in anticipation as he explains the situation to me. “That freak of a so-called president locked up mom and Jonathan. Jon was explaining that the splicer baby that calls itself a counselor isn't worthy of its position. One of his sleazy co-workers then punched him for no reason at all. The entire senior staff got into a fight over that thing, and Jon was stuck in the middle of it. While that was happening, mom was shopping downtown when she was attacked out of nowhere by that freak. Once the self-titled counselor found out, she beat mom senseless. You'll never believe what happened next. The President of Operations had the nerve to lock them both up! The splicer spawn only got a day in the brig, while mom and Jon are being held with no set release date.”

I am sure I now have a look of anger on my face that would make the splicer baby look like the Dalai Lama in comparison. I certainly feel that way as I let out a scream in response. “He did what?!”

My son doesn't say a word, but instead reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, metallic, silver device approximately the size of a quarter of his pinkie nail. Realizing that it is a storage unit, I wonder what he intends to show me. He holds it in the palm of his hand, then speaks. “Play file. Timestamp one-five-point-three-six-point-oh-seven.”

The room becomes filled with colored light as the augmented reality surveillance unit turns my family living room into Main Street. As soon as it starts, I feel faint, and there's no doubt my face turns white as I watch a monster beat my wife senseless. That thing had actually come into the shop today. I wish that I hadn’t ignored her. If I’d have beat the living tar out of her, as her kind deserves, I could have spared my beloved Carla from any pain.

As I recall the blood-curdling high pitched shout that I heard this afternoon while I was in the repair room at the back of the shop, my blood boils as I begin to wonder if that was my wife who screamed out in agony. With my temper now at its peak, I turn to my son and ask for the surveillance unit. “Give me that surveillance unit, son, and head back to duty before you get into trouble too. I’ll make sure everyone on this ship knows just what kind of demon spawn these splicer babies really are.”

With that, Stephen hands over the surveillance unit. He doesn’t need to say a word to me, as I have just made him aware that I am going to handle this. I'm just not sure he will be happy when he finds out what I am going to do to get revenge.

My son and I walk out of the house, silently, and enter the crew corridors. Stephen heads for the operation center, while I walk towards the maintenance tunnels. Just as I had suspected, I do not have proper clearance to enter the maintenance area. Putting my programming skills to the ultimate test, I download the detection code to my memory banks and quickly set to work decompiling and reverse engineering it. Since I need a hasty solution, I simply alter it to skip the bio-scan completely, and hardcode the system to always register as a specific individual. I might not be able to go wherever I want on this ship, but that shouldn’t be a problem for Junior Operations Head Rodriguez.

Once inside, I quickly make my way to the emergency alert system. I need to be extremely fast, as my quick-and-dirty hack means that it would be extremely easy to detect. If any crew member entered the maintenance corridors now, they would definitely be suspicious if the bio scan tells them that they are Mario Rodriguez.

I quickly set up wireless communication between the two devices and copy the relevant portion of the video straight to my storage unit. Now that the video is in place, I set an emergency timer to begin in half an hour. That should give me more than enough time to remove any traces of my code as well as my presence from the maintenance systems. I give myself enough leeway to do what needs to be done while still setting up my little presentation to start in a relatively short amount of time. I don’t wish to delay the retribution of the race of creatures that had attacked my wife. Soon the entire ship would see these things as the bloodthirsty monsters they are.

Satisfied that I have finished erasing all traces of my unauthorized entry into the ship’s systems, I decide head back home. This will surely be a sight to see. I'll have to make sure that I head out to the streets to see everyone's reaction. I'll do so nonchalantly, of course, as I don't want to bring any unwanted attention toward myself. I just want to see first hand justice being served for what that thing did to my wife. i am not disappointed as Main Street is brimming with anger and hostility. I want to stop and see the retribution come down upon the splicer scum, but I know it is best for my safety to head back home as quickly as I can.

However, once I get home, I regret that I have to sit here and wait. I try to relax, but there was no way that was going to happen. I think about how I am now kept from the joy of holding my loving wife in my arms. I want to rush down to the holding cells to see her, but I know that I will bring suspicion upon myself if I am there before my son is supposed to come home. I know my son, and I'm sure that he somehow set things up so that he would look like he was working the whole time so he wouldn't be a suspect in whatever I had planned to do. I surely don't want to bring any unwanted heat upon him.

The chaos brings some surprising news that I hadn't expected. I'm only waiting home alone for an hour or so when Stephen walks through the door. I am surprised to see him back here so soon. He tells me that he rushed down to see his brother in the brig as soon as he saw the video, then came to see me afterward, job be damned. He then calms me a bit when he reveals that he had convinced a like-minded colleague to swear to any and all authorities that he had been at work the whole day. While I am not pleased with his latest job desertion, I can't help but wonder what the two brothers had discussed.

He tells me that the President of Operations spoke with the demon spawn that attacked my wife. I groan at the thought of those two conspiring against us regular folk. I can't help but think that our last President of Operations would have handled the situation much better, and I never would have had to send that message to everyone aboard the ship in the first place. Being President of Operations is tough, and I'm sure Pim is now worrying that he is bringing shame to the Anong family name.

Stephen tells me that, because he was in the holding cell right next to the splicer demon, Kevin was able to clearly hear the conversation between the president and the splicer baby counselor as they were talking in the brig. Moving myself toward the edge of my seat, I wait with baited breath as Stephen tells me all about the chaos that ensued after the video dropped.

The president could be heard sighing loudly in frustration. “I’ll do everything I can to try to calm tensions down. Sadly, there’s bound to be increased anger after today, but luckily it was just one small part of the ship that witnessed everything. I’ll make sure that the people of Main Street know the whole story. Hopefully, once they know everything, those people will be able to quell the gossip on the other areas of this ship. It may not seem like it now, but most of the people on this ship are caring people.”

He continued on. “Don’t worry, we’ll nip this thing in the bud. Your safety and the safety of everyone else on the ship is my primary concern. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure that it doesn’t get out of hand.”

Kevin told Stephen that right after they were done talking, it seemed that the universe had conspired to play a cosmic joke on the president and the demon. I have not yet told my son about my exact role in what I know is to come next in the story, but I decide to sit in silence for the moment as I'm eager to hear about the fallout.

All of the emergency screens on every part of the ship turned red with the dreaded emergency alert text. Both the counselor and the president could be heard inhaling a huge amount of air as they no doubt braced for the worst. The video that followed was, I'm sure, far worse than anything that they could have imagined.

I'm sure it's chaos out there. The entire ship has now seen video footage which shows the splicer spawn counselor Maria Corben savagely beating Carla Jackson, the mother of two of the ship’s operations staff. There is nothing before or after the broadcast, just the video of the freak beating a helpless wife and mother. I was more sure than ever that showing everyone the footage that Stephen had shown me, as the people on the ship deserve to know what the splicer babies really are like. I grew in rage once again at the fact that the monster pounded and slashed my beloved wife.

At that, I tell Stephen all about my role in showing the video on all of the ship monitors. I hold in my breath as I prepare for the expected storm. Outside of today's understandable leaves of his position on the operations deck, my son is nothing if not zealous in his work in operations and he is not shy about expressing disapproval of those who stand in the way. Surprisingly, even though he disapproved of my hacking into the system, he said that he was glad to see the result.

I think about what must be the mob of thousands of people that are sure to confront the snake that beat my wife and the president who protected her. I feel a rush of adrenaline as those two have now entered what is surely their absolute worst-case scenario. Neither of them will have any idea as to how they could possibly get things back to normal. If they tried, they would surely face serious repercussions.

As I am second-guessing my ability to manage operations as president after today, I am given more reason to doubt. The alarm begins to blare out, and the ship’s computer spoke two of the scariest words known to humankind: “Emergency: Code White”.

I bring myself back out of my thoughts with an uncharacteristic outburst. “Heilige kak!” I curse myself inwardly for my unprofessional demeanor, however, outwardly my body more than matches my panicked tone. The color in my face must have lightened at least six shades, as I turn pure white as the emergency code continued blaring through the ship’s speakers. I feel like I am drowning in my inadequacies and unable to perform my duties among all of this chaos, and I am afraid that I am going to go under and bring the whole ship down with me.

My worst fears have just come true. The highest alert has just been sent out, and I haven’t had enough experience as a president to handle this. Sure, I had dealt with alerts before during my tenure as Vice President of Operations, but they were nothing more than mere scuffles among the operations staff or among the staff and the people downtown. I had trained for code white emergencies, of course, when I was in training. But that doesn’t prepare you for the real thing, especially when my usual operations center crew is in the holding cells.

After what felt like days, Mario Rodriguez calls in. “President, this is an emergency. That video caused panic all over the ship. There’s violence going on everywhere, with fear and panic like I’ve never seen. As is the protocol, the off-duty security team went in to try to help their colleagues with the situation, but it’s not enough. I sent the entire operations center staff down to help. I’m the only one up here! Please, send help.”

Completely numb, and acting on nothing but pure adrenaline and instinct, I begin to try to control the situation. My words seem to come out automatically, as I feel like I am standing outside of my body watching someone else handle the situation. “Release everyone from the holding cells. We need to be at full staff.”

As the doors open, I look at my shamed crew, hoping that simply being in the holding cells would be enough to keep them from re-enacting their irrational actions from this morning. If that’s not enough, hopefully, my speech will do the trick. I don’t consider myself a wordsmith by any standard, but I’ve always been able to inspire the crew to rise above and beyond. I hope I can still do that today. “All of the highest ranking of the senior operations staff are to return to the operations center. Remember, you are all operations staff for this ship. Put all of your anger aside, and do your duty to make this ship run as safely as it can. You are the face of this vessel, as all others on this ship look up to you. Everyone here earned their position, and I have faith in you all to overcome your demons and be the best that you can be.”

As the senior operations staff all began to leave the room, I look over at Carla Jackson and Maria Corben. The physicians are amazing. They both have no outward scars from the fight, and that fact led me to think of a plan. It was a risky plan, but I am optimistic that it will work.

Both women are looking at me curiously, obviously wondering if they will be free to leave as well. I muster up all the courage I have and hope I can muster up a speech to help them rise above their hate as well. This will be the real test of my leadership, as the hate between these two is so raw, and my plan won’t work without them both.

“Maria, Carla, I need you two the most. I know that you are both furious at each other right now, but please overcome your hate for now, for the safety of this ship. Maria, as the ship’s counselor, I’m sure you want to do everything you can to ease the situation. Carla, as the mother of two of the ship’s operations staff, I’m sure that you care about that the ship remains safe as well, especially regarding the safety of your sons. I’m going to address everyone aboard the ship, and I need both of you to help. Please, help me convince everyone to settle down. The presence of you both together should be enough to get things back to normal.”

Maria Corben agrees without hesitation, but Carla Jackson doesn't share her enthusiasm. “I don’t want to be near that… her. If people are beating the splicers, good. That doesn’t affect me or my family. Splicers shouldn’t be able to mingle with the rest of us anyway. I’m not participating in your ridiculous ploy. This riot doesn’t affect me, and it won’t affect my sons. None of us were insane enough to change our genes and lose our humanity.”

I display the security footage of the Adventuressia Main Street, and grit my teeth, hoping that I can make my point without losing my cool. “That is the electronics store where your husband works.” The scene showed multiple people, non-splicers, breaking the windows, smashing the products that were on display outside the store, and stealing everything they could inside. “Don’t tell me this doesn’t involve your family. It’s bedlam out there and anyone could get hurt in this. Please, please, help me stop this.”

Carla’s eyes widened as she saw the scene, hoping that her husband was alright. His livelihood, and more importantly, his life, might be in grave danger. Begrudgingly, Carla admits that the situation has gotten out of hand, and agrees to try to help calm the situation. I began to address the people on the ship, with both women at my side.

“Please stop this violence Both of the women shown involved in the fight this afternoon are fine, and neither wants this kind of violence to continue. Remember, we may all be different, but we all came from the same planet. We are all on this ship together. We’re not just neighbors and colleagues, we’re family.” At that moment, Carla, surprising both Maria and myself, takes the initiative and speaks up: “Don’t destroy our community over me.” After that, for the first time not sure of what she should say, Maria simply states: “Please stop.”

The gamble seems to pay off as reports of fights begin to lessen. The violence doesn’t stop completely, of course, but it tapers off enough that the security crew are able to manage things. I thank Maria and Carla for their help, and in return, I convince the security staff to let them return to their homes. I am exhausted and tempted to go home as well. However, I can't stop yet. The ship’s alert system has been reduced to yellow, or medium alert. There are still pockets of violence, but it isn't near the ship-wide panic that we previously confronted.

However, the continuing violence isn't the part of this situation that troubled me the most. The computer system had obviously been hacked. Someone took the surveillance video, edited it to remove the beating of Maria’s mother, and then streamed the edited video through the emergency broadcasting system. This meant that the person, or people, involved in this had extensive technical skills. Even more worrying, the computer system is only accessible in corridors that are restricted to operations staff members. All evidence so far seems to point towards that as the most likely scenario. However, I shudder to think that a member of the operations staff would sabotage the alert system in order to promote violence against people on this ship.

I just finished talking to the junior and senior crew. I told the junior crew I'd give them full compensation for senior benefits for the day, even though the senior staff members were in position. I warned the senior staff that the next brawl would result in anyone involved losing their commission. That should hopefully set them straight, and keep them from doing anything foolish.

Tensions are still high, but the ship is under control and fully staffed again. And I'm off the clock. On alert, but officially off the clock.

I went down to the ship's arboretum and found my favorite spot. Letting my thoughts drift for a bit, I thought back to the events of twenty years ago.

I took off my mag-shoes and let myself float above it all. I looked out into the market square as I floated up to my favorite spot up on the highest maple tree on the ship. I grabbed onto the branch and peered out. I looked at the magnificently carved dragons, especially the yellow one with the scales and fins. That one was my favorite. I pulled out my drawing pad and flipped to my picture of the dragon.

Last week while eating at the Ming restaurant, I asked Mr. Ming what the yellow dragon's name was. He told me it was named Huánglóng, and represented the Chinese Emperor and the center of the four directions. That's why it was my favorite. I'd climb up onto the tree and draw Huánglóng so I could get myself centered after a bad day.

"I knew I'd find you up here Angel. Had a tough day again, huh?"

I looked over at my mother's face and saw the telltale bags under her eyes that let me know that she had a tough day too. I didn't want to ruin her day more with my problems.

"No, I just wanted to draw a little."

"It's OK sweetheart, I know something's bothering you. You know you can always talk to me."

I looked down at the mismatched socks on my feet. I put quickly put on a red one and a pink one this morning because I was so excited to be going to school since I felt like a girl again after so long feeling like a boy. I frowned at that thought and continued to stare at my feet. "The kids made fun of me again when I came into school as a boy, after being a girl for almost a week. Maybe they're right, I should just pick a gender and stick with it. It would be so much easier."

My mom took off her mag-shoes and floated up towards me. After she gripped onto the branch by mine, she lifted my head towards hers. "Honey, don't even think of going against who you are. You need to do what feels right to you. I know that it's hard, but you need to be true to you. You're lucky that you know who you are at age 10. I didn't know who I was until much later." She smiled that big bright smile that I loved so much and kissed me on my forehead. "You're special, and I know you're going to do great things."

With my mind back in the present, I wiped my tears and hoped that my mom's faith in me was well-founded.

"I knew I'd find you up here Angel."

What?

I looked down from my perch on the tree to see the tired face of the retired Captain Martin looking up at me.

I pushed myself off of the tree, as I had many times before, with enough force to push me back down to terra firma. I quickly put my mag-shoes back on and met my mentor and friend.

"I am so glad to see you, Captain."

"You know there's no need for that formality now. I'm retired, you're Captain, and I'm just Rob."

Heaven knows how much I needed this man's advice right now. I grinned broadly and hugged him as tightly as I could.

"Let's go grab a bite to eat while we talk. I'm sure your usual table at the Ming is still there waiting for us."

Walking past the dragon sculptures at the entrance to the Ming that I loved in my youth seemed to melt my troubles away, at least a little. And, wouldn't you know it, the table under the large sculpture of Huánglóng actually was available.

Míng Zhāngwěi, the son of the Mr. Ming that I knew in my youth, and the eleventh generation Ming to own the restaurant, came up to our table.

"Hello, Captains. It's great to see you two together again."

Zhāngwěi was also one of the children I went to school with. He actually turned down an opportunity to become a cadet in order to continue his family's business. My mother and Captain, well at the time, Commander Martin, tried to convince him otherwise, but he was steadfast in his resolve. I think that's why we got along so well, since we were both deadset in following the family business, even if opportunities tried to pull us elsewhere.

I wish I could remember what else he had said, but despite my insistence that my worries had somewhat dissipated, I'm afraid that they hadn't. All I can be sure of is that I ordered the kǒushuǐ jī, or mouthwatering chicken, as that's what I always ordered when I was here. I must have been out of it for a while, since, no longer than I thought this, our meals appeared at our table.

I picked up the chopsticks and poked at my food. "OK, might as well just jump into things, I thought".

"I assume you heard the announcement."

Captain, er, Rob Martin, nodded. "You did a great job mitigating what could have been a terrible disaster. Things are back to relative peace. I know your mother would be proud of you. Heck, I'm proud of you. I'm not even sure I would have done as good of a job had I been in command."

"Don't say that sir, I know that if you had been in command..."

"Let me stop you there. First, you don't have to call me sir. I'm not your commanding officer, I'm your friend. Second, I honestly don't know how I would have reacted. Nothing like what happed this afternoon has happened on this ship in centuries. You did more than an excellent job, getting all parties to come together. Releasing that shipwide video message with the fighting parties calling for unity was a masterstroke."

"It's not my message that bothers me. It's the one that came before it: the one that showed the counselor beating the mother of two of my crewmen. It only showed part of the situation, and worse still, it was unauthorized. I'm going to have to investigate the crew for sabotage."

I actually took a bite of my food, the first since I had come into the restaurant. "It's this kind of stuff that I dreaded when I became Captain of this ship."

Rob Martin rubbed the dark skin at his temples and furrowed his brow, deep in thought. "Yeah, you and me both."

I looked at my friend of many years and smiled. "Let's forget about the issues on the ship for a bit, and just enjoy the meal."

Captain Martin returned my smile. "Sounds good to me. When we're done though. I really have something I need to show you."

I enjoyed the chicken and the company. It was great catching up. It's only been a week since I've been captain, but with everything going on, it has felt like a year.

At the end of the meal, although the food at the Ming was just as delicious as usual, I bid farewell to Zhāngwěi and took the rest of my food in a takeaway bag for later. I had much more on my mind right now, and Captain Martin wanted to show me something.

He led me to a passage behind the Ming before stopping. "I was hoping to wait a bit before showing you this, but fate had a different idea. Step through the looking-glass Alice, because your world is about to get turned upside-down."

He opened the door, and it led into a back-alley that I never even knew existed. There were a lot of people with spliced genes here, none of whom I had met before. There were other people here as well, some who weren't spliced, and others of whom I wasn't sure. There was a heavy-set woman with pale skin, dark black hair, brown eyes, standing at approximately 182 centimeters tall, with missing teeth. She was talking with a green-skinned man, standing at about the same height, with jet black eyes and spiky green hair. I wasn't sure if his appearance was the result of spliced genes, or if he simply dyed his hair, dyed his skin, and changed his eye color. It could be either, really, since there wasn't any lack of people here with all kinds of body parts in all sorts of unusual colours.

All these different sorts of people were inter-mingling and just getting on with their daily lives. These people spent their time in a way I had never even known existed until today, living in an area was dirtier than the rest of the ship. No, not dirtier. That doesn't describe it at all. It wasn't unsanitary, or unsavory, or anything that word would conjure up in the mind. It was lived-in... and less... sterile than the rest of the ship.

And, the smells here were positively heavenly. As I walked with Rob further down the rabbit hole, I could see why things smelled so good. There was actually a butcher here, with what appeared to be real meat!

I stopped and turned to Rob. "That's a real butcher. Those are real animals. It's supposed to be illegal to grow animals on this ship. Not to mention, the DNA to do so was supposed to be destroyed."

My eyes widened as I realized the truth. "You knew about this. How did you let this go on while you were the captain?"

Rob looked at me with heavy eyes, although I'm not sure whether that was due to weariness, guilt, or both. "There are hundreds of thousands of people living aboard this vessel. It's just not feasible, or even possible, to enforce every single penal code with that many people, with that many differing mindsets."

He continued, "Back on Earth, our ancestors had countries and cities and villages, each with their own police force. We have one ship, with many different areas modeled after Earth, but with one captain and one crew. We were supposed to be a ship of a couple of thousand people sailing through space for a century. Instead, we've been sailing for four times that. We've built up and out to accommodate the rising birthrates. Yet we keep the same system, at least in public. Splicertown here was a way to keep things going like clockwork."

"The less 'desirable'"... he actually made air-quotes with his fingers when he said it, if you'd believe it... "stuff happened back here while the rest of the ship ran smoothly under the pretense of following the same set of rules our ancestors did. It seemed to work well."

I glared at him, my eyes piercing his like daggers. "Until today."

He shook his head, wracked his neck back and forth, and then dropped his head with a sullen look. "Actually, the situation has been bubbling up much longer than that."

I gave this man I thought was my friend and mentor a cold stare, unbelieving that he hadn't told me any of this until now. "How long exactly has all of this been going on?"

He looked crestfallen at that, unable to even look me in the eye. "It all started about 10 years after the splicer children were integrated back into the school system."

At that statement, I must have looked a sight like one of those animated videos from the old Earth archives, with my mouth gaping wide open. That would be about twenty years ago. That's when my mother was captain of this ship. That was back in a time when I was only ten years old. It was back in the time when I thought things were happy on the ship. It was Back in the time that I drift to in my mind when things get rough so that I can pull myself back together.

I guess Rob wasn't kidding when he said that stepping through that door would turn my world upside-down. If my mother was involved, I don't think I'd be able to process any of it. She was my role model. No, she was more than that. She was my rock. She was my everything. She couldn't have, wouldn't have, knowingly let this go on. But I knew I had to ask. I built up my courage and decided to just rip the proverbial adhesive bandage off to get it over with quickly. "Did my mother know about any of this?"

His eyes started tearing up. Oh, no. This is not going to be good.

"Not at first. But when your mother found out about this, her eyes were burning with the same anger that I see in your eyes now. She was positively livid. She vowed to shut everything down and did everything in her power to shut it down."

I relaxed a bit. At least my mother acted as the same principled woman I knew her to be. "Why's everything here still going then? Why didn't my mom put an end to this? What happened?"

He gave me a fearful stare, his lip trembling like I never saw in his eyes before. No, his eyes gave off an expression, unlike anything I've ever seen before. "She tried hard to shut it down. Even went against her better judgment and hired a detective from Splicertown to get to the bottom of things. And he was good, but they were better. The people who started this hid their tracks well. Too well."

I probably had the same scared look on my face that Rob did, as I dreaded his response to my next question. "What do you mean 'too well'? What happened?"

"Your mother was murdered."

Positively fuming, I did something that I thought I'd never do. It was something that was so unlike me but felt so right in the moment. I slapped Rob Martin directly on the right side of his face... hard.

He rubbed his cheek, and started saying "OK, I deserved..."

I fumed at him. "You deserved way more than that. My mother was murdered, and I'm only hearing about it now?!"

He hung his head. "I'm sorry..."

Still fuming, and before he could say anything else, I continued. "And, what was with that "Through the Looking Glass" jäte? Is this a joke to you?!"

He shook his head, which was bowed down about as far as a neck can go. "I'm sorry about that. I was hoping to lighten the mood when you saw the illegal business here, but I know I blew it. I'm really sorry."

I just glared at him, and he continued while we walked towards the end of Splicer Town. "There's someone I want you to meet. She's the one that brought me up to speed on these things. I didn't know about your mother's murder until I was told two days ago.

I stared at him incredulously. "You don't expect me to believe that."

He took a deep breath. "I know it's hard to believe after learning all of this... mulgeon so suddenly. But I swear it's true. I knew about Splicer Town while I was captain of this ship, and I apologize profusely for not telling you about it sooner. But I believed your mother died from a brain embolism, just like everybody else."

We stopped in front of a small, unmarked building. "We're here. I know it doesn't look like much, but the woman inside is a genius at detective work. She's a modern-day Hercule Poirot, Adrian Monk, or Jessica Fletcher".

Not knowing much about mystery fiction written on Earth, I just assumed the people he named were famous detectives, kept my mouth shut, and walked through the small door into the door of the woman that was apparently the Epoch's greatest detective. Well, at least that's how Rob sold her to me. I hope she lives up to the hype.

The office was dark and empty. I was surprised to see that that the only thing in this completely grey room was a twenty-first century-style coffee maker atop a simple wooden table, no bigger than the coffee maker itself, and a simple wooden desk with a simple wooden chair. The desk only contained a single sheet of paper. The whole scene matched the nondescript entrance to the office. It was all a bit eerie, actually.

Rob spoke up and introduced me to the detective. "Angel Siharath, meet Juliana Frederick".

If I was superstitious I would probably have walked out as soon as the detective came into full view. She was definitely the child of a splicer, a black cat to be precise. She reached out her paw to shake my hand. I looked at it for longer than is polite, chided myself internally for my rudeness, shook her hand, and greeted her. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

She looked at me, and her cat-like mouth turned up into a smile. "Your statement is a bit overstated, but I understand. I know this whole situation is a bit overwhelming, and I'm sure the fact that I'm a splicer baby doesn't help matters."

Continuing, she stated, "Plus, there's also the matter of the mostly empty room. I've been told it's more than a bit creepy". She took a quick glance at Rob, before returning to her statement. "However, I prefer to work with as little clutter as possible. It helps me focus on the case at hand."

She furrowed her brow at that remark. "And, this case is certainly a perplexing one. Most of my work involves theft or blackmail. This is the first murder case I've ever had to investigate."

After saying this, her cat-like eyes opened wide as if she had shocked herself with her own statement, then quickly filled with sadness. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be so blunt. I'm treating this as just another case, but this one has caused real hurt. I'm sure this is hard for you. I promise I'll catch the person or people responsible."

Still extremely annoyed with Rob, I shot him daggers with my eyes as I stated "This has all been thrust upon me so suddenly, so I haven't even had a chance to cope with this yet." I then looked at the detective and tried to muster a smile, which I'm sure wasn't very convincing. "But I appreciate your kindness and your willingness to help get justice for my mother."

Detective Frederick then shot her own look at Rob that put my own to shame. Without a word, she had managed to turn his face beet red in shame, as he tilted his head down towards the ground. "I'm sorry if Mr. Martin was less than discrete. He's been helping out here for the last few days and can be of great assistance to me, but he can be a little... less than sociable at times."

At that, I grinned inwardly, despite myself. The great Captain Martin has actually found his match, and not only that, this detective seems to treat him as his mere assistant. It reminds me of a reverse Sherlock Holmes situation, with the great detective keeping her assistant in touch with his humanity in this case. OK, I don't know a lot about Earth fiction, but I do know about Sherlock Holmes. You'd have to be daft to have not.

The detective then looked back at me. "I'm sure Mr. Martin told you that I believe your mother's case is connected to the recent unrest between the people on this ship." I just nodded my head in agreement, and she continued, "I think that they were meant to be a distraction for something big. I'm not sure yet what that could actually be, but I bet your quick thinking with diffusing the situation had thrown a spanner in the works, so to speak."

"They likely thought that they could use the fact that you are new to your role as ship's captain to their advantage, but they didn't expect that you'd be every bit as good of a captain as your mother." I actually beamed at that. My initial thoughts of creepiness about her had proven to be unfounded. I just met her, but think I already like this lady.

The detective went on to say, "they're likely to try again and that puts the advantage in our court. We might not know what they are up to, but they definitely don't know that we're on to them. That means that we might be able to actually catch them in the act next time."