The Inhumanoids Bk. 1: The First Dark Rebel

Prologue:

Maire Flyt was fiddled with her bracelet while repeatedly looking out of the window, hoping to see a glimpse of the Roan Supreme Justice Building. R.S.J.B, for short. 'It couldn't be that far away' Maire thought. 'We've been on this dang cart for 3 hours.'

They were going fast, probably 143 joules per Midas on an elevated track.

"Maire, will you stop worrying?" her friend tried to sound laid back and calm, but his left ear twitched. He was obviously as uncomfortable as she was, because he was taller than her and had to sit in a completely different position than her so he didn't hit the ceiling. He tried to get comfortable, but his legs were too long and his shoulders were too muscular to fit into the position he was trying to sit in; so he pulled up his knees, hugged them and laid his head on them instead.

"Honestly, Lars. You of all people should not talk to me about worrying. Especially on your first day of Army training." She snapped. It was only a couple of weeks ago Lars had received a letter saying he had to report for his first day of Army Training in two weeks, or he would be arrested for treason and failure to defend Roan. Both punishable of Death by Kaleidosen.

"I know. But what is worrying going to do?" he asked.

"Besides giving me something to do?"

"Yes."

She sighed and squirmed in her seat, the ripped covers scraping her legs. "Nothing."

"Exactly."

There was an abrupt stop and the cart jerked around frantically until finally, Maire could see one Lars rather than two. A shower of old paint chippings rained on them, covering them with the old yellow paint and dust.

Maire shook it off and open her mouth to ask Lars a question, when the Man in Charge hollered out:

"Roan City is approaching. At this time, please prepare your person and your items. We'll be landing in 5 kelds!"

Lars and Maire gave each other a look and both stood up, stretching for the first time in 3 hours. Lars bent down, opened the wooden luggage chamber and took out their bags. She took hers and slung it across her back, careful not to rip the old strings.

Because they were raised in Yellow, they knew to wait for everyone else and get off last, because it was polite and the right thing to do.

"Maire, I'll see you later, okay? Good luck." Lars whispered in her ear. She nodded absent-mindedly and then he left, brushing her thin shoulders as he did so.

She looked one last time at the empty cart lounge number 234, with its dim lights, creaky luggage chambers and seats more worn out than an old teddy bear. But it was all she and Lars could afford, even with both of their paychecks. She didn't know how she was to get home, but she didn't think she was going to go home. Not for a very long time.

Finally, she looked out her window and there it was, right in the middle of Roan city.

"The Supreme Building..."

Now all she had to do was get to it, appear in front of the Court, and everything would be just fine.

She sighed, loving the view, but dreading having to leave to go to a Hearing, she pulled herself together and she walked away silently, not looking back.

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The R.S.J.B was closer and bigger than she thought. As the heavily armed and bearded guard led her to the Hearing Room, she couldn't help but notice the tall ceilings and white pristine pillars and even majestic portraits of former and current court Judges. People with fancy clothing walked briskly past with their heads held high and jaws set. One even scrunched her nose when she saw Maire.

Comparing their clothing made it easy to estimate the difference of their social statuses. She had on a sophisticated looking robe on top of her crisp suit, that radiated the fresh smell of something out of the wash, while Maire had on her best clothes; a slightly disheveled black skirt, a plain white shirt, a jacket that was slightly too small (but still useful) and torn sandals.

She kept her head down and slumped past.

The tall guard led her through a series of hallways, some long and some short and some were surprisingly empty.

After a minute or two of walking, they reached the double door that said "Hearing Room". Maire couldn't help but stare in awe. The door was very tall, extremely beautiful and they were symmetrical. Etched carvings decorated the doors like an artist who had no boundaries. There were swirls and turns, dark lines and light ones, all different sizes and colors, but all magically melting into one.

But the door knobs were even more beautiful. They had the Roan crest etched in the handles, tiny and seemingly accurate, the shield sprouting wings and on top of it, was a hovering 3 horned crown. The detail on it was immense and you could see every single last feather in the wing. Not to mention they were made of gold.Maire couldn't believe her eyes.

She looked around and saw the portraits. They weren't as appealing to the eye as the doors, but they came in a close second.

On the right was a portrait of the head Councilwoman Millicent Brodnax and on the left was Head Councilman Ambrose Winkle. She had never seen a real portrait of someone before, for all they had back in yellow was the terribly expensive ID cards, nor has she met them before. She shrugged, figuring that she would find out very soon whether they looked like that or not.

The guard opened the doors and stepped aside to let her pass

"Whoa."

The room was vast, its ceilings so high the lighting was a bit off and dim in some places, giving the room an eerie feeling. There were thirteen seats, each occupied by tough, unbiased looking people. She recognized two immediately, as their portraits where hanging right outside. Councilwoman Brodnax had the same white hair that sat tightly in a bun, the knowing half smile on her face that didn't seem to change at all, and her shocking grey eyes were still filled with wisdom.

Councilman Winkle, on the other hand had an aura about him that seemed to keep people at bay. His eyes looked permanently squinted as he watched your every move and sat there, calculating.

She decided right then that they looked like their portraits.

Maire quickly evaded Councilman Winkle's gaze and looked around the room of faces. There were some blondes and some brunettes but they all had one thing in common; they were all old. Some more than others, but all in all, they were old.

"Presenting Maire Flyt of Red Cove." Said the guard in a booming voice. Then, with an abrupt turn, he left.

There was an awkward silence as Maire struggled for words.

So instead she started at the beginning.

"My husband died a tragic death that was marked as an accident..."

All the council men and women listened intently as she spoke. No one making a sound as she finished.

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*A/N*: Terms and their definitions:

Cart: a crappy futuristic train for the not-so-rich.

Jouels: Miles

Midas: An hour. Still 60 minutes

Kelds: our version of minutes. Kelds also last 60 seconds.