The thirst was going to kill them all. 49,235 beings from over 7,000 species, all waiting in a godforsaken planet for the moment their body would stop circulating blood from lack of water.

 

They were mostly criminals and all roadkill. Some had been experimenting with chemicals and got themselves undesirable diseases. Others had been experimented with by secret government operations gone wrong. There were those who knew too much for their own good and those who knew so little as to go pissing off the masters.

 

Entire families, loners and irrational creatures walked desperately up and down the place, those with working brains cursing gravity and the lack of ray guns to hurry their excruciating end. And still she remained calm, holding her baby and whispering made-up stories of spaceships that would come and take them back home.

 

Barely did the little one know he was the reason for their being there. He was a bastard, born from the forbidden love between the royal general of his district and the daughter of a humble magician, Myrid, who now caressed and rocked him in her arms, hoping he would go peacefully in his sleep, for her milk had dried and she could not bear watching her son die of thirst.

 

Her only consolation was that her father had not suffered. When they tracked him down for using his magic to charm the boy and hide his antenna, they could not risk sending a powerful sorcerer to the waste camp, so they killed him on the spot. They told her those were orders from the general himself, but she knew better. That lie would not increase her pain.

 

The soil absorbed the dead bodies. Their blood could not lighten the thirst. There was talk around the galaxy of that planet having been specially built to be a waste camp, but the idea of designers reaching such a position of power as to be able to create planets was hardly true.

 

A speaking being approached her. The boy’s antenna had caught its attention.

 

“Is he royalty?”

 

“Half,” she answered, allowing herself the right to finally speak the truth, now that all hope was gone and death was not a threat, but a certainty.

 

“And what are you?”

 

“Magician line, but never showed any signs.”

 

The being shuddered a little at that revelation, but hid it fast. It introduced itself as Penna, but Myrid did not care to ask its lineage. And so they were silent.

 

When it grew dark for the first time, a general disturbance was felt in the waste camp. Nobody knew for sure how much time had passed or how long darkness lasted in that planet, so fear prompted some to act impulsively and they started to fight. Myrid tightened her grip on the baby, holding his body to hers with unexpected strength, weak as she was from the thirst and the hunger. At some point, a huge disfigured creature was launched towards them, threatening to hurt the baby despite his mother’s desperate attempts to protect him. Penna was about to throw Myrid and her child to the side and take the blow for them when the most extraordinary event happened. The creature bumped against some sort of invisible glass and fell to the ground a few feet from mother and son.

 

That was all the confirmation Penna needed. She grabbed Myrid by the arm and took her away from there.

 

“You’re lucky it happened in the night-time,” she said, dropping Myrid’s arm and walking around the place to make sure they were alone. Seeing as the mother looked genuinely confused, she went on. “The boy is a vox. He carries both royal and magician active genes.”

 

“What does it mean?” asked Myrid in shock, watching her innocent baby looking scarily around him in the darkness.

 

“It means we’ll get the hell out of here. Unless there isn’t any royal who would come and rescue you if they knew your whereabouts.”

 

There was not much time for explanations. The boy was gifted with uncanny perception due to his mixed heritage and the antenna would help carry a message to his father. It was still dark when the ship approached the planet, turning what was left of the 49,235 creatures mad. Once again, an invisible shield was created to get them on board as they tried to ignore the deafening screaming of the living dead.

 

They were safe for one more night. They were safe.