Chapter 1: Reflections in Glass

Stepping into the room felt akin to entering a hall of mirrors. Everywhere he looked, there were reminders of the propaganda he had endorsed. Yet something was amiss. From banners to posters to holograms featuring his visage, the message was loud and clear: This is your path! It was a mantra he had been pushing onto others for some time. However, as he neared the spacejet, he felt no rush of excitement—only an overwhelming heaviness.

“Be cautious, Sutton. We’re about to traverse an outdoor walkway. Activate your Second Skin.”

Sutton pressed a concealed button on his hip, and a translucent suit began to envelop him. Glancing at his mother, he noticed the fatigue etched on her face as she carried his younger sister Izzy in a pack on her back. It had indeed been a grueling few weeks. Evelyn Bain, his mother, was the Monarch of the Convaliem, often referred to as the Queen of the Convalites. This term denoted the global culture that emerged from the victors of World War XII, named after the Rahine Valley, where their General led them to triumph. As the Heir Apparent, Sutton was destined to inherit the Convaliem throne upon his mother’s passing.

“Queen Evelyn Bain, esteemed leader of the Convalites, may I assist you in boarding the spacejet?” The pilot extended a gloved hand, a permanent fixture on his body.

Ah, a Perma-Voider, Sutton mused. This was the term for those unable to afford immune system transplants and Second Skins, who resorted to extreme measures to shield themselves from germs. Some would sew gloves onto their hands or don specially designed hazmat suits that allowed for basic human functions without removal. Sutton had even seen individuals who installed protective shields over their faces. Initially, he viewed this lifestyle as extreme, but with maturity came understanding—if he lacked the means for a Second Skin or a transplant, he could have easily found himself in their shoes. After all, succumbing to a life of complacency was a sure path to doom.

As part of the Royal Family and the Royal Institution, Sutton belonged to the Béni class, which, along with the Perma-Voiders, formed the Aristoneux. This elite social class encompassed those with wealth and privilege, standing above the do-nothings, who were relegated to an untouchable status in society. Historically, the Aristoneux and the do-nothings were the only inhabitants of Bleu Gaia.

The planet earned its name after humans first communicated with an alter-species via satellite. In attempts to describe their home, they referred to it as the third planet from the Sun in the Milky Way, but this failed to resonate. Legend has it that someone exclaimed, “The blue planet! We live on the blue planet!” This struck a chord with the alter-species, who then referred to it as Gaia. Over time, as interplanetary relations developed and communication with the alter-species became routine, humans fully embraced the name Bleu Gaia.

Once aboard the spacious spacejet, Sutton, the Queen, and Izzy settled in for their lengthy and uncertain voyage. Their destination was Cayasah, a neighboring planet where a contingent of Perma-Voiders and Béni had gone ahead to completely sterilize the environment using iri-juice. This iridescent substance, developed by scientist Mary Lennon, could eradicate germs from surfaces with one-hundred percent efficacy in mere milliseconds. As humanity's immune systems deteriorated, iri-juice became a coveted resource, though its production was resource-intensive and increasingly scarce. The Royal Institution decided to transport the dwindling supply of iri-juice to Cayasah to ensure a germ-free habitat for human habitation. This would mean living without the need for Second Skins or the cumbersome apparatuses of Perma-Voiders—no more fear of contamination with every interaction. In theory, it was the promise of a utopia just a Solar Cycle away, far more desirable than Riault, the initial target due to its rich resources and favorable conditions for germ reduction. However, Riault lay twenty-two Solar Cycles away, making it impractical for the Aristoneux, who deemed the journey too risky for their survival.

Upon boarding, two nurses greeted the Royal Family, clad in their Second Skins after completing the spacejet's sanitization. The journey to Cayasah demanded meticulous planning. The jet and its passengers underwent thorough sanitation before takeoff. Upon reaching the edge of Bleu Gaia’s atmosphere, a specially engineered capsule on the aircraft would ignite, cleansing the exterior to prevent any germs from accompanying them. The voyage would span twelve Moon Cycles, with internal sanitization occurring at the start of each cycle. Physicians were also required to administer immune system transplants every three Moon Cycles. While advancements had improved the transplant process, medical oversight remained crucial to prevent bodily rejection. For the privileged, like the Royal Family, these procedures had become routine. Every three Moon Cycles, they would be connected to a machine that infused synthetic antibodies, offering temporary protection. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. Sutton had never known life with a functioning immune system; this was simply the norm. Yet, the prospect of Cayasah excited him. A life free from transplants and Second Skins seemed idyllic—he could touch everything with his unprotected skin.

“Good Evening, my Royal Family. I’m Tish, and this is Lacy. We’ll be your nurses for the next twelve Moon Cycles, ensuring your care and sanitation. We’ll initiate the first sanitization process in about twenty minutes, so please relax and let us know if you require anything.”

Perky, Sutton thought. Annoying.

“Sutton, you’ll be the first to undergo sanitization. We need you to begin reviewing the Institution's plans. They’re located in the den’s filing cabinet,” Queen Evelyn instructed.

“Yes, mother.” While Sutton eagerly anticipated Cayasah, he harbored reservations. There was no guarantee that the sanitization would be flawless. What if a tiny germ slipped through? He also worried about resource availability—was there truly enough iri-juice? Did they possess the funds to relocate the entire population of Bleu Gaia? His instincts suggested the Royal Institution had no intention of returning for the do-nothings in the final stages of the planetary transfer. Sutton hoped his mother would oppose such a plan, but her greatest flaw was her unwavering belief in the goodness of all people.

Chapter 2: The Path Ahead