The Queen's Will

Story by eliseolisbos

Author's Notes: This had been written for the Story Contest, but I hadn't realized that a specific time for submission had been established. I presumed that as long it was the 5th where I am, I could submit it, but not so; my fault for not following the thread. Since it's not a part of the contest, I'll just post it for the few who might enjoy it. I had asked Spacefender for a story idea, since I couldn't finish the first four I had started, and he gave me this. Well, something like this; I left out most of your idea, Space, like the flooding and the wall and so on, but this is really for you, because you're so inspiring.

Tags: futa/f, futa/f/m; post-apocalyptic themes, sci-fi

Words: ~4600

Summary: We depend on their perceived notion of charity...Everyone in the Secondary has their role to play to ensure our collective survival...

The Queen's Will

Atumepolis: self-sufficient and self-contained, it was home to a steadily maintained population of eight million, located some miles below the destroyed surface of the planet. This quantity was probably the last remnants of the human race. No one was quite sure...there was no news of other megacities after the wars, neither above-ground or below.

Nevertheless, Atumepolis was beautiful, not just in terms of the impressive strength of its structures which held back the many strata of earth, the gleaming arcs of the domes and supporting network of columns, or the dependable wonder of its power and recycling systems. The population were also genetically proper, all DNA accounted for and in the right place. After all, they might be the last of the human race. It was logical to have everyone was as perfectly normal as possible.

The wars, however, had not only affected the above-world. Years of intense contamination was still blamed for anomalies which surfaced with annoying regularity, blighting the Atumeun record of perfection. These anomalies were culled from the rest of the population as quickly as possible.

They were all sent to the Secondary, a far smaller city which had actually been constructed before Atumepolis, long ago when an actual atmosphere had struggled to exist and humans had fought a losing battle on the surface. The Secondary had none of Atumepolis' sturdy refinement; it was located nearer to the ravaged surface, held away from the warm bosom of the planet.

Some Atumeans called it Deviant City, with a sort of derisive pity. Three hundred thousand former Atumeans called it home.

They also called one woman 'Queen'.

ii.

The Queen of the Secondary called herself Hyperion; at first glance, she appeared quite normal, someone who should not have been sent out of Atumepolis. This is what her seven Atumean guests thought to themselves as they sat in the small and well-appointed meeting room. The tunnels which connected Atumepolis to the Secondary were well-guarded, though quite long and damp. The Atumean guests had been surprised to find good food and wine in the house of Hyperion.

"There is trade between our cities," Hyperion had said with a small smile playing on her lovely lips as she reclined in a wide, long lounge-chair. Her wide green eyes gave her an air of innocence, and her auburn hair coiled down her back in a shiny sheaf. "The Secondary is a source of...unique pleasures."

The Atumeans had glanced at each other with a mixture of unease and excitement. There was one glaring problem with genetic perfection, of course: at times it was, quite simply, boring. One never knew what might be found in a city of Deviants, and that was a very stimulating thought.

Of course, one was subject to discreet DNA scrub-scans upon return to Atumepolis, but the debauchery was usually worth it.

"Hyperion," a broad Atumean politician said as he finished his meal and leaned back in his seat. Hyperion made no comment on the lack of her title."You know we will not allow any Secondary dweller into Atumepolis for greater access to comestible units--"

"Of course not." Hyperion gave him her most dazzling smile. "However, the Secondary will now require twenty-five comestible units for each 'visitor'."

The Atumeans, predictably, sputtered in indignation, for the current exchange was only five units. Food was grown by hydroponic technology in Atumepolis in vast amounts. Hyperion remembered visiting the massive farms as a child, before her true nature emerged at puberty, and she was escorted out of the city. There was far more to survival than food, and the Secondary had access to water and an ancient power supply that lurched fitfully as it sought to provide heat and light to the city, but there were no hydroponic units for the Deviants.

Hyperion's smile did not diminish in size or strength as the Atumeans grumbled.

"We need to eat," was all she said in a delicate

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