Pokeking
Senior Member
Every one of us has a story to tell. There are as many stories out there as there are stars. Some live privileged lives and other lives are full of struggle. Some are celebrated and others face scorn. Some lives are exciting while others are more monotonous.
Life at the Cervantes Institute might seem exciting to outsiders because it was one of Mars's preeminent research facilities. To those who lived there, there was nothing overly special. It was simply a community where everyone knew each other and worked with each other in either school or in the office. Many fit the Cervantes mold: normal. The Marconi family who lived at the corner house was anything but normal. Angelo Marconi sang opera while working on his machines in either his garage or while attending to any of the Institute’s many systems with his staff. Mirabella Marconi had picture frames full of stamps from long ago. Mention them and she will not let you leave her office for hours as she tells you all about how she collected them. The apex of Marconi eccentricity was their son Shane.
Shane was born on July 11th in the year 2439. His existence represented a child’s fascination and the need to have another set of hands around the house to help with chores. As a girl, Mirabella saw a family of gorillas in a zoo. It was the only place where they could be found because after years of poaching and habitat destruction, they had vanished from the wild long ago.
The two created what they called the Natal Ark and the two piled their dreams and hopes inside. Within, a new life form developed. He will have a human’s body structure, sentience, and biochemistry. However, he will have the appearance of a gorilla. Why? Because of a dream that she wanted realized. At first, the lifeform was called Durango to pay homage to the town where Angelo and Mirabella first met. They tried to enroll him at the school when he was old enough and after much discussion, he was admitted. The teachers found him to be an eager student, but his peers shied away from him as if he was a monster. Why? I’m a kid like them. I just look different.
As he grew, his situation did not change much. Teachers and staff encouraged him. His peers tolerated him at best. Life at home was changing. He had always been known as Durango. He yeaned to call Angelo and Mirabella Marconi Dad and Mom, but they had always been emotionally distant. One day, when he turned 15, he was made to wear nice clothes and they took him to a fancy restaurant for the first time in his life. The gift they had for him was simple, an envelope. He opened it and pulled out a piece of thick paper. It was a birth certificate bearing the name of Shane Durango Marconi.
After graduating high school, he began to work alongside his father. The pay was nonexistent because he wasn’t officially employed since there were only so many positions available, but he found the work engaging. One day, on a Martian summer evening, his mother came into the room of 25 year old Shane and spoke of a fantastic opportunity. A communication had come in from a colleague named Byron Trent who was stationed at the Marfa Colony on Garene as one of the colony’s doctors. He readily jumped at the chance. His parents bought a decommissioned shuttle called the Tycho which was an interplanetary craft. At top speed, it could travel from Mercury to Pluto in about six hours. An 18 meter long craft, most of its military grade components had been swapped out for civilian counterparts.
Three months had gone by on the journey from Earth to Garene. There were plenty of activities to keep the mind and the body occupied, but Shane rarely ventured outside of the quarters he had been assigned. The only times he headed out was for mealtime, for gym time, or mostly to visit the Tycho. Diagnostics were run daily. There might be those that would balk. Who runs daily diagnostics? Someone with loads of time and one who hadn’t really formed meaningful connections with anyone yet.
Shane was asleep on the mattress, the bedsheets around him arranged into something resembling a nest. The bed shook slightly and shook again a couple minutes later. This time, the shake was stronger. Err! Err! Err! “This is not a drill. All hands abandon ship. This is not a drill. All hands abandon ship.” Shane was startled awake. There was a shake again and this was more brutal, and he felt on the floor. No time to dally. He reached for the closest clothes he had with him, overalls. He must make it to the Tycho and get out before the ship explodes.
As soon as he secures his glove-like shoes, Shane runs out the room and enters bedlam.
Life at the Cervantes Institute might seem exciting to outsiders because it was one of Mars's preeminent research facilities. To those who lived there, there was nothing overly special. It was simply a community where everyone knew each other and worked with each other in either school or in the office. Many fit the Cervantes mold: normal. The Marconi family who lived at the corner house was anything but normal. Angelo Marconi sang opera while working on his machines in either his garage or while attending to any of the Institute’s many systems with his staff. Mirabella Marconi had picture frames full of stamps from long ago. Mention them and she will not let you leave her office for hours as she tells you all about how she collected them. The apex of Marconi eccentricity was their son Shane.
Shane was born on July 11th in the year 2439. His existence represented a child’s fascination and the need to have another set of hands around the house to help with chores. As a girl, Mirabella saw a family of gorillas in a zoo. It was the only place where they could be found because after years of poaching and habitat destruction, they had vanished from the wild long ago.
The two created what they called the Natal Ark and the two piled their dreams and hopes inside. Within, a new life form developed. He will have a human’s body structure, sentience, and biochemistry. However, he will have the appearance of a gorilla. Why? Because of a dream that she wanted realized. At first, the lifeform was called Durango to pay homage to the town where Angelo and Mirabella first met. They tried to enroll him at the school when he was old enough and after much discussion, he was admitted. The teachers found him to be an eager student, but his peers shied away from him as if he was a monster. Why? I’m a kid like them. I just look different.
As he grew, his situation did not change much. Teachers and staff encouraged him. His peers tolerated him at best. Life at home was changing. He had always been known as Durango. He yeaned to call Angelo and Mirabella Marconi Dad and Mom, but they had always been emotionally distant. One day, when he turned 15, he was made to wear nice clothes and they took him to a fancy restaurant for the first time in his life. The gift they had for him was simple, an envelope. He opened it and pulled out a piece of thick paper. It was a birth certificate bearing the name of Shane Durango Marconi.
After graduating high school, he began to work alongside his father. The pay was nonexistent because he wasn’t officially employed since there were only so many positions available, but he found the work engaging. One day, on a Martian summer evening, his mother came into the room of 25 year old Shane and spoke of a fantastic opportunity. A communication had come in from a colleague named Byron Trent who was stationed at the Marfa Colony on Garene as one of the colony’s doctors. He readily jumped at the chance. His parents bought a decommissioned shuttle called the Tycho which was an interplanetary craft. At top speed, it could travel from Mercury to Pluto in about six hours. An 18 meter long craft, most of its military grade components had been swapped out for civilian counterparts.
Three months had gone by on the journey from Earth to Garene. There were plenty of activities to keep the mind and the body occupied, but Shane rarely ventured outside of the quarters he had been assigned. The only times he headed out was for mealtime, for gym time, or mostly to visit the Tycho. Diagnostics were run daily. There might be those that would balk. Who runs daily diagnostics? Someone with loads of time and one who hadn’t really formed meaningful connections with anyone yet.
Shane was asleep on the mattress, the bedsheets around him arranged into something resembling a nest. The bed shook slightly and shook again a couple minutes later. This time, the shake was stronger. Err! Err! Err! “This is not a drill. All hands abandon ship. This is not a drill. All hands abandon ship.” Shane was startled awake. There was a shake again and this was more brutal, and he felt on the floor. No time to dally. He reached for the closest clothes he had with him, overalls. He must make it to the Tycho and get out before the ship explodes.
As soon as he secures his glove-like shoes, Shane runs out the room and enters bedlam.
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