I’m a revolutionary whose very existence exposes the lie of the ruling regime.
Upon my birth, hideous as I was, my folks could not bring themselves to destroy me and tried to keep me alive secretly. Because something extreme had happened. Two perfect citizens of the realm – my parents – somehow conceived and delivered a human baby – me.
Miraculously the secret held until I was 13, when my “throwback” nature began making Tricrestian leaders seem like liars.
“That’s a human!” astonished Tricrestians pointed out as we passed, once the hormones started working their magic on me.
Children were taught early on: Tricrestians were “obviously superior” to the apelike humans of the inner worlds in every way, with no crime, no economic corruption, no inferior citizenry and with almost perfect health.
Though we’d interact with the inner planets as much as necessary, Tricrestians cut Triton off from tourism and “alien” visitation two generations ago.
“We are the refined genetic masterpiece of humanoid evolution,” the doctrine of the Emeralds declares. “All flawed subspecies of the distant past have been eradicated from our composure.” Yep. We thought we’d been cleaned up. All the ancient riffraff was gone from our bones.
We genetically modified humans have brilliantly transformed our adopted world and ourselves to a perfect fit.
So much change has occurred and so much distance from the inner planets has isolated us that our identity as a people has radicalized.
At first, earlier generations accepted human ancestry as a fact but claimed improvement.
Decades later reformist Tricrestians convinced younger generations that the old stories of Tricrestian human ancestry were demeaning propaganda spread by the jealous human mongrels of Earth themselves.
Scrutiny upon those leaders started peeling layers of camouflage away from their stagnant tyranny, bringing human reality into theirs.
And I, known on this Earth as Den Hellige, will keep claiming – to the end – that my existence proves all humanoids however composed or in whatever state harness the same range of abilities and are deserving of equal justice.
But for 12 generations the Emerald Tricrestians have thrived upon and within Neptunia’s frozen world Triton. I barely reach manhood among them when the assassin strikes.
Before shooting me in the back, Damon Greonmon, commander of the Emerald Watch, tells me, “I never wanted this, but billions would follow you in your misguided crusade if we allowed it. You’ve instigated mass insanity. And for that –you must be stopped, Den Hellige Meta Messias…”
The deadly beam is interrupted by a blow delivered in a streak of light!
Damon Greonmon is down. The streak materializes into a dynamic woman.
She catches me as I collapse from the shock of the shot in the back.
She lowers me gently to rest just as the clanking weight of massive metal approaches from behind. And my savior turns to face one of the mightiest menaces Tricrestians have invented. One of their special enforcers. The Ayatollah Metallico.
“Tricrestians created me to make their world a happy place,” the metal monstrosity announces as it reaches for her with titanium tentacles. “To make their world a happy place I must have control. To have control I must override humanoids. To make the world a happy place humanoids must be controlled.”
“I don’t want to be happy,” replies my savior, engaging the hateful creation as I escape. “But I’ll smile when I watch you take over your own creators!”
Only much later, in the relative safety of another district, does my mystery benefactor find me and reveal the truth.
“You’re a child of Abraham,” she says. “Do you know what that means?”
“According to my readings you’re kosher.”
So I get “her” to explain what the heck’s going on.
Hologram that she is with simulated consciousness, Golemette was created by the underground Israeli engineers of Yelzira under the direction of General Eliyahu as a way of rescuing Jews from persecution.
Not only is the artificial being used in contemporary situations; in conjunction with their quantum computers Yelzira has devised a means of projecting Golemette through Time to some eras past and future.
As a being composed of super-energetic photons, Golemette can pack a real punch, push a ton, fly, pass through transparent barriers, flash a blinding burst, change into the form of other objects (though not the substance) and speak in an odd crisp vibrato.
With no need to bring the projection back to the present (since the Golemette sent will dissolve after an hour and another Golemette will be created in its place) “She” has been sent to 1929 at the Western Wall in Palestine…
…to 1974 and the Zabdani Mountains to rescue Fara Zeibak, Mazal Zeibak, Eva Saad and Lulu Zeibak…
…to 1944 at Auschwitz to disrupt the Holocaust…
…and even to 2313 to combat the tyranny of Emerald Tricrestians here on Triton.