By David C. Daoust
Genetic Alteration and ‘Upgrades’ had been around since before the Ark Age. The people of the Ark Age however, those barricaded within someone else’s reality, forced to march to the same drum, day in, day out, with very little to look forward to beyond petitioning to start a family, which was often times denied, found more and more ways to assert their individuality. Genetic Alteration was one such practice; the fact that it could leave them sterile was of little consequence to those that had already been denied their natural right.
The Alterations started simple enough: scales instead of normal skin, pointed ears rather than rounded, forked tongues, each individual finding unique ways to express themselves. They were coined ‘Geners’ at first, then ‘Gene-Os’. Eventually that morphed into ‘Genies’, like the old tales of wishes and lamps, which evolved, and finally settled, to ‘Jinn’, which was embraced by the community; all previous were considered derogatory.
There was only a small portion of the population that saw this practice as acceptable. Many more viewed it as a ‘desecration of the body’, which, if ever there was such a thing, these alterations might fit that bill. So in the beginning, Alterations were simply frowned upon. Yet when this small portion started replacing fingernails with talons, teeth with fangs… among an interesting array of horns protruding from skulls, or razor sharp spines running the length of the body… it became an issue for the lawmakers.
Lawmakers felt these new alterations were dangerous to the public. In fact, any changes deemed a weapon, were made illegal. Though that was not enough apparently, they continued to push against the practice entirely. They wanted ALL Genetic Alterations to be banned outright.
Jinn did not lie down and die though. These proposed laws would force them to convert back, which many argued would leave them deformed anyway. It became one of those never ending issues that always seemed to stay at the forefront of the political mainstream.
Jinn became the outcasts; Outcasts that were sitting directly next to you on the train, walking with you through the halls, living in the next door apartment. Any news regarding Jinn was pushed to the front, especially if it involved bodily harm.
As the years passed, they became the ‘accepted’ unacceptable outcast. If you felt as though you did not belong in society, this is where you wound up. People would joke that such an odd-ball person would show up with a beak any day now. Many began to proclaim they were born to be Jinn. Many more would claim they knew all along when their friends and family members altered themselves.
It was not until the ‘Troubadours’ showed up, that these outcasts suddenly felt proud of being an outcast. Troubadours’ alterations allowed their vocal cords to make sounds unlike any other ever witnessed from a normal human. Thus they were accepted by all society, if only through an appreciation for the music they created.
Jinn rallied to this new pillar of their culture, strengthened them to live how they wanted to, without feeling that need to make excuses. Rather than need to proclaim ‘this is who I am meant to be’, they just started to be. Thanks to the Troubadours, the arguments against Jinn, and their lifestyle, fell out of favor.
As the Assembly fractured at the end of the Ark Age, Jinn culture survived the new found freedom. The lifted restrictions of child rearing made no difference to those that truly identified with the culture. Many heteros would take the risk as a rite of passage, or some backwards test to tell them whether they were meant to breed or not. Thus was the culture.
Jinn acceptance became an issue the Royal Alliance embraced, one that put them in a good light. Jinn never trusted the Vanguard, or their ‘Solid Foundation’ plan. When the Vanguard fell, heralding the emergence of the Consortium at center stage… well, the Consortium were mostly Mottled- Mottled and Jinn were like oil and vinegar.
Throughout the Ark Age, the Mottled saw the Jinn as a possible snare that could affect their own acceptance as ‘normal’ in society. The Mottled were actually born that way, where Jinn chose to change themselves for reasons the Mottled felt could only confuse others about their own situation. It was important to them that the Mottled were a natural occurrence, due to the environment- which meant they declared Jinn ‘unnatural’ whenever they got the chance.
Jinn stood with the Royal Alliance.
Hugo Lions stood with the Royal Alliance, at least in his youth, long before the Viceroys took over. Back when he was the hottest Troubadour to tour the City-Stations. Upon retirement he found himself flounder through obscurity, intolerable really. Until he found Farrah Blue and her wonderful back alley playhouse to be right up his alley.(Both figuratively and literally.) They became fast friends. Joining the troupe allowed him to be among fans, maybe not his per se, but ‘fans’ none the less. It also surrounded him with the talented youth that appeared in such shows. Kept him in the public eye, at least a bit. He even used his original material when he could. Or when Farrah needed him to fill.
Unfortunately, that old playhouse didn’t last. Their home became too dangerous. When Farrah planned to leave the city-stations behind, she invited him to come along, to Twin Crown. The desert fit the coldblooded Jinn like a glove. When the Gradians showed up to open their shops, while others grumbled about the changes, it gave their small troupe of actors a new audience. A new playhouse was right around the corner.
Grady was a tightly nit community, which meant gossip gossip gossip. The only thing Hugo loved more, was the idea someone might think he cared about what was being said about him! If, indeed, something was being said… he was sure it was!
Twin Crown was the best thing that could ever happen to him. Truly, he was thankful. Had Farrah not moved them out of there, he would have been left to be hounded by random thugs and gangsters. He was too old for that nonsense! Hugo was pretty much alone in the Onion. Except his fans, though those seemed to become fewer and fewer as the musical styles changed. The rumbling roar of Hugo Lions was fading into forgotten ‘oldies’, to be replaced by a high pitched screech he never understood.
‘Maybe I should look into altering my ears…’ Hugo laughed to himself at the thought.
Suddenly a knock came at the door. He was tempted to grumble, his massive scaly body was getting harder and harder to move around these days, but he remembered it was mid-day… and loneliness was something that he was experiencing more and more.
He cleared his throat as he stood; the sound reverberated throughout his home, shaking shelves and wall hangings alike. He tried to get situated on his old legs, put on a demeanor of friendliness, something that took him a minute. Glancing in the mirror at his heavy ridge of an eyebrow and bulbous lizard like eyes, he dismissed that idea, and ‘hurried’ to the door.
“Harper!” he rumbled a greeting, pleased to find the young teen standing outside his apartment door aboard the parked crawler.
“Hi, Mr. Lions!” Harper Blue greeted with that beautiful Blue smile he’d become so accustomed to from the all-girl family. The husband having vanished from the moon, not so long ago. A bit of drama that, but none of Hugo’s business, the actor felt he could make it big on New Runnymede… he’d be back- Hugo was sure, whether Farrah let him stay was the mystery.
“What can I do for you, my sweet?” Hugo asked as he noticed the mottled boy behind her, and greeted him as well.
He recognized him to be one of the Haul boys, Ratchet. Hugo had always liked the Hauls, Raymond among them. Jinn/Mottled prejudice was, after all, a Consortium thing, so he found the Haul family a welcome example of how the worlds should work. At least, before he heard what he heard, he supposed they weren’t such a great example anymore.
“Oh, well, I thought you could use a visit…” Harper began with a friendly smile, clearly buttering him up with pleasantries.
The rumbling laugh that emanated from the old Jinn shook the whole crawler.
“As sweet as that sounds, girl,” he called her on it. “Your smile is pleasantries enough, if you’d like to cut to the gist.”
The girl blushed a bit, and Hugo thought maybe his jaded attitude, towards visitors, was showing. He sunk a little into himself. Loneliness changes the mind.
“Well,” the girl got over it and plunged right in, “I seem to remember you were looking to sell off some old bot… a while back…”
“Sure, sure… Left over from an old roadie that ran with us for a while… he’d abandoned it when he got a new form, and joined a different band. I held on to it for all these years, just in case he came looking… I mean, we parted on good terms, but it just sat there collecting dust for so long,” Hugo rambled on. “Once your mother wanted to get the playhouse up and running here on Twin Crown, I started selling it off piece by piece…”
“Oh, so it is gone?” Harper looked a bit crestfallen.
“Most of it,” Hugo answered. “Just a chassis and the port itself… you’re welcome to it, if you want it.”
“Well, without limbs,” Harper thought out loud, “I’m worried she won’t like it…”
“’Quality port’s the most important part. I can build something from what he’s got,” Ratchet volunteered.“We might have to dig through some old junk for the rest…”
Hugo believed the boy could build it. Royal Alliance crews tended to be handy mechanics. Came from wanting to build their own everything; better than giving coin back for Viceroy versions.
“How much?” Harper asked the Jinn, her face a bit more serious, reminded Hugo of her mother in business mode, which just made him want to point out he’d already given it to her for nothing, but something occurred to him.
“For you,” Hugo thought for a moment, “Just do me one favor…”
“That’d be?” she asked.
“When you’re digging up parts…” Hugo prefaced. “Try not to take anything from the rubble… all we need is First Wavers accused of looting, too.”
“Deal,” Harper said aloud and stuck her hand out to shake.
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