Species Traitor: A Science Fiction Dystopian Novel by Kate Mary (books to read to get smarter txt) 📕

half-humans.” I looked toward the door like I’d be able to see through it to wherever Finn was right now. “He had to have been born shortly after Landing Day.”

“He’s younger than he looks, only twenty. You know how Veilorians are. It’s tough to really tell their age,” Ione said, shrugging. “He’s kind of a jerk, and he definitely doesn’t like me. Although I guess I can’t really blame him.”

“Why?”

She lifted her gaze from the bag, her long curls falling across her face and shading one of her hazel eyes. “He’s half-human.”

“I kind of figured that part out,” I said, trying not to roll my eyes and failing miserably. “That makes him dislike you?”

“He isn’t really a fan of humans,” she said, “and he definitely doesn’t like that Rye married one.”

“Why?” I asked again, annoyance coating the word.

Ione loved dragging out a story.

“I don’t know all the details, Rye doesn’t either, just that Finn has never met his father.”

“Was his mom…” I began but then had to pause to swallow as bile rose in my throat, “I mean, was she—”

I couldn’t finish the question.

Thankfully, Ione knew what I was asking and shrugged. “I don’t know for sure. The family doesn’t talk about it. In Finn’s eyes, he’s Veilorian. Nothing else.”

“That must make it difficult for you,” I said. “I mean, his family can’t exactly have a good opinion of humans.”

My cousin shook her head. “It hasn’t been a big deal, honestly. Rye’s parents like me, and even his aunt, Finn’s mom, has been welcoming. Most Veilorians don’t hate humans, not the way we hate them, anyway. There’s definitely some bitterness, but that’s really it. As long as you treat them with the respect they deserve, they’ll treat you well. It’s their custom.”

“Too bad we haven’t learned something from them,” I muttered. “They’ve been here for over twenty years, and we haven’t even tried.”

“Tell me about it,” Ione said.

She’d gone back to digging through her bag, pulling clothes out and studying them like she’d never seen them until this moment, so wrapped up in what she was doing that it seemed like she’d forgotten I was here. Again.

Surrounded by the silence, my mind wandered to Finn. It made sense why he didn’t like humans. Even if his biological father hadn’t forced himself on his mother, he hadn’t been around to watch his son grow up. Still, his hostility toward me made him seem as closedminded as people like my mom. People who refused to give the visitors a chance to prove themselves. People who hated anyone different.

It was something I refused to do.

My gaze moved to the viewing screen mounted on the wall. An image of a fiftyish man with only a few wisps of white hair clinging to his shiny scalp was frozen on the screen, his mouth open as if in mid-sentence.

“What were you watching?” I asked, nodding to the screen.

Ione lifted her gaze from her belongings, which she was in the process of folding, unruly hair falling over her face.

“Trying to keep up on my lectures so I can finish my degree,” she said, once again focusing on her bag. “Rye doesn’t want me to leave the District to attend class. He says things are a little too uncertain right now. You know, with the election and the twenty-second anniversary of Landing Day coming up.”

I couldn’t help thinking Ione was wasting her time. It wasn’t like she was going to have a career now that she and Rye were married—it would have been nearly impossible to find anyone in the human part of the city willing to hire a species traitor—but I decided to keep my thoughts to myself. Her father, who had to be one of the few middle-class citizens left, had paid for her schooling already, and it wasn’t like they could get the money back, so when you looked at it that way, she wasn’t losing anything.

Instead of telling her what I thought, I picked up the remote and hit play, and the image flicked to life.

“We know Polis wasn’t alone in surviving the cataclysm. Records indicate there were areas like ours all over the world, and while they were each different, they were all equipped with the same energy field to help protect them from the natural disasters and subsequent nuclear fallout.” The man pointed behind him to an image of our city—a very old one—surrounded by a translucent blue dome. “We also know that not all these cities raised their energy fields in time the way we did. Several followed our examples and raised them early on, living for decades inside the dome. Others, however, put their energy shields up too late, thinking they wouldn’t be as affected by the natural disasters as they were. These cities were able save the people living inside, but more often than not, the land was poisoned. As a result, they suffered from food and water shortages. There’s even some evidence that the water they did have access to was polluted, making growing food impossible and even causing disease and deformities in later generations.

“Despite all those setbacks, many areas managed to survive for a time and even remained in contact with those living in Polis, but during the years following nuclear fallout, communication slowly dropped off. It’s been centuries since we’ve had contact with anyone living outside our city, bringing us to believe that whoever did manage to survive those early years died long ago. Meaning the people living in Polis are now the sole remaining humans on the planet.”

I paused the lecture and turned to face my cousin. “How can they even be sure about that?”

“For the exact reason the professor listed.” Ione reached back so she could twist her hair into a messy bun on top of her head. “It’s been centuries, and the only sign of life we’ve ever seen are the Veilorians.”

“I know,” I said. “I just think it’s possible there are other people somewhere. Either on the other side of the country