Ellie Quin Book 01: The Legend of Ellie Quin Read Online Free Page B
Author: Alex Scarrow
all…that would lead anyone to that child.
He smiled.
L-239-HR-2457709. She would be approaching twenty years of age by now. Emotions would be stirring within her, the desire to spread her wings and fly overpowering. He wondered what she looked like, what her parents had named her. Above all else, Mason wished he knew that – what her name was. He had the surname of course – Quin. And the citizen ID numbers for L-239’s parents - enough information to locate the family easily enough. He had those two crucial little items of information written by hand in his personal note book. That was the beauty of his old fountain pen and paper, there was no digital trail left behind them.
He closed down the data terminal and the holo-screen vanished.
It was time to go find her and watch over her; to look out for her. She was more precious than anything else in the universe, so incredibly precious. Mason allowed himself to think of L-239 as his child. In a way she was as much his. Twenty years ago he had selected one particular paternity request out of the millions. The gene-stock was good, the family well away out of harm’s way, anonymous and healthy folk, perfect. And with great care he had authored this creature to be the very beginning of the end…of the way things are.
If the Administration knew she was out there, if they knew something this dangerous to them, to all they held dear, was somewhere out there, they would destroy entire star systems to get their hands on her.
To kill her.
Mason patted his jacket and felt the subtle form of his notebook nestling snugly in his inside pocket. He looked once more around his desk and his cluttered study. If there was anything at all incriminating left behind, something that he had somehow overlooked then at worst he’d be leaving behind evidence on non-approved genetic work. The only possible information that could lead them to her…was what was written by hand and sitting in his pocket.
Good. Then it was time for Dr Edward Mason to go and ‘die’.
CHAPTER 5
The central dome of the Quin farm was roughly half a square acre of rubbertex-covered ground. It was filled with a scruffy looking arrangement of several habi-cubes; the prefabricated alloy cabins that were an ever present eye-sore on any hard-scrabble colony world. They arranged in an approximate circle around an open middle, a space the family liked to call the courtyard . It was an apt name for this patch of ground beneath the apex of the central dome, with a matt of plastic brush that was meant to be ‘grass’ and a selection of large potted plants, some of which were actually real. It had the vague feel of a cloistered garden. Or that was the point anyway.
The courtyard had, by default, become the ‘flop out’ zone for the Quins, and was littered with deck chairs, Ted’s lazily discarded toys, a number of Dad’s Jacob’s half-finished furniture repair jobs and a family sized hammock strung between two dome support rods painted and tricked-out to look a bit like palm trees trunks.
On the toob they were watching a documentary on the ecological disaster that happened on Celestion a few years ago. Today, in fact, was the seventh anniversary of that horrific event. It was a program on the toob that Dad particularly wanted to see, announcing that fact this morning over breakfast. Ted had predictably whined when the set had been turned from the toon channel, but he’d given up pretty quickly. There was an unspoken protocol within the home that if Dad wanted to watch something on the toob, then Dad got to watch it. From the first mewling cry of frustration Ted had known the exercise was futile. He’d stormed off to his habi-cube stamping his feet heavily.
The rest of them sat in the comfort of the courtyard. Mum had brought out dinner, set it down on several unfolding plastic tables and dimmed the lights; the only illumination being the flickering glow of the holo-toob itself.
Ellie remembered watching the
He smiled.
L-239-HR-2457709. She would be approaching twenty years of age by now. Emotions would be stirring within her, the desire to spread her wings and fly overpowering. He wondered what she looked like, what her parents had named her. Above all else, Mason wished he knew that – what her name was. He had the surname of course – Quin. And the citizen ID numbers for L-239’s parents - enough information to locate the family easily enough. He had those two crucial little items of information written by hand in his personal note book. That was the beauty of his old fountain pen and paper, there was no digital trail left behind them.
He closed down the data terminal and the holo-screen vanished.
It was time to go find her and watch over her; to look out for her. She was more precious than anything else in the universe, so incredibly precious. Mason allowed himself to think of L-239 as his child. In a way she was as much his. Twenty years ago he had selected one particular paternity request out of the millions. The gene-stock was good, the family well away out of harm’s way, anonymous and healthy folk, perfect. And with great care he had authored this creature to be the very beginning of the end…of the way things are.
If the Administration knew she was out there, if they knew something this dangerous to them, to all they held dear, was somewhere out there, they would destroy entire star systems to get their hands on her.
To kill her.
Mason patted his jacket and felt the subtle form of his notebook nestling snugly in his inside pocket. He looked once more around his desk and his cluttered study. If there was anything at all incriminating left behind, something that he had somehow overlooked then at worst he’d be leaving behind evidence on non-approved genetic work. The only possible information that could lead them to her…was what was written by hand and sitting in his pocket.
Good. Then it was time for Dr Edward Mason to go and ‘die’.
CHAPTER 5
The central dome of the Quin farm was roughly half a square acre of rubbertex-covered ground. It was filled with a scruffy looking arrangement of several habi-cubes; the prefabricated alloy cabins that were an ever present eye-sore on any hard-scrabble colony world. They arranged in an approximate circle around an open middle, a space the family liked to call the courtyard . It was an apt name for this patch of ground beneath the apex of the central dome, with a matt of plastic brush that was meant to be ‘grass’ and a selection of large potted plants, some of which were actually real. It had the vague feel of a cloistered garden. Or that was the point anyway.
The courtyard had, by default, become the ‘flop out’ zone for the Quins, and was littered with deck chairs, Ted’s lazily discarded toys, a number of Dad’s Jacob’s half-finished furniture repair jobs and a family sized hammock strung between two dome support rods painted and tricked-out to look a bit like palm trees trunks.
On the toob they were watching a documentary on the ecological disaster that happened on Celestion a few years ago. Today, in fact, was the seventh anniversary of that horrific event. It was a program on the toob that Dad particularly wanted to see, announcing that fact this morning over breakfast. Ted had predictably whined when the set had been turned from the toon channel, but he’d given up pretty quickly. There was an unspoken protocol within the home that if Dad wanted to watch something on the toob, then Dad got to watch it. From the first mewling cry of frustration Ted had known the exercise was futile. He’d stormed off to his habi-cube stamping his feet heavily.
The rest of them sat in the comfort of the courtyard. Mum had brought out dinner, set it down on several unfolding plastic tables and dimmed the lights; the only illumination being the flickering glow of the holo-toob itself.
Ellie remembered watching the
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