Chapter 1

 Year of 2060- Planet Earth

10 years after Teril Occupation.

Country: New Colonial Territory

City of Saratoga

The streets are in chaos again. The Terils had dropped the weekly food and necessity shipment for the city of 50,000 people. Yes, it is one large crate for a large mass of hungry and dirty people. Saratoga residents claw and climb over each other as the Teril aliens back away, cattle prods at the ready. It hardly seemed to matter since my neighbors acted like rabid animals, screaming and fighting for every last morsel. Some even took more than they needed. The Teril guards hardly cared if anyone got fed; if a human dies in Saratoga, it is one less person for them to worry about or feed. Gods, I hated the residents in my neighborhood. There were selfish and uncaring. Even now, I saw one of my coworkers kick an old woman out of the way to get to the last can of SPAM. I scoff in disgust but don't intervene. That is how it is here. Intervene, and you get hurt or worse.

Hi, my name is Lara Doe. Yes, my last name is Doe. It is common to give a generic last name to human babies who are procured in a lab. I was born in a white room with several people in lab coats surrounding me. When I was five, the doctors tested me to see if I had the gene necessary to complete the android transition. Lucky me, I did not, so I was thrown out on the cold streets, left to fend for myself like my fellow humans. I have witnessed callous behavior from a young age and even fought against adults for a piece of bread for several years. This kill or be killed mentality, ironically, drove us into Teril occupation. 20 years ago, Planet Earth was ravaged by plagues, drastic climate change, violent natural disasters, and depletion of resources-all because of human greed and consumption. A distant alien race known as the Terils, had kept watch over us for thousands of years, intervening in extreme cases. They intervened in human affairs one final time in the year 2030 when the countries of United States and Russia were about to detonate nukes at each other. In addition, countries in Asia and Europe were facing food shortages and plagues that killed millions of humans. 

The Terils insisted on helping before the human race was driven into extinction. This help would come at a steep price-their control over Planet Earth. Humans couldn't be trusted and needed overseers. Contents and countries were split into new regions, an allotment of citizens sorted in each region. Money was equally split among us-a universal pay for all humans, except for one group-The Androids. It seems The Terils didn't want to eradicate every aspect of the Old World. Politicians and the Elite had been eliminated with the occupation. Still, in their place, a new group emerged- one made of superhumans. Remember how I mentioned earlier I didn't have an android gene on my fifth birthday? Yea, that is how humans are made into androids- The Terils decide who among us has "superior genes" to go through the enhancement surgery. Androids were created after The Teril occupation as a marketing incentive to other alien races. Beautiful models and celebrities were chosen to undergo the enhancement procedure so visitors would be lured by the otherworldly beauty only found on The Planet Earth. This unique marketing plan drove alien visitors to Earth in droves, and the overseers could fix destroyed habitats. The Terils lavished the new androids in riches for an excellent job. As the years progressed, the android program morphed from a beauty pageant to a superior human race. There are bored android humans who live in the fanciest neighborhoods and create syndicates to battle for city streets and bragging rights. Personally, it's just a dick-measuring contest among the elite android men.

I sigh as I maneuver around the shipment container. I don't need my allotted rations. I am one of the few humans in Saratoga that can buy food and necessities with my earnings in gold bars. How I get my gold bars( the currency's name in our Teril-occupied world) is not wholesome. I am a professional thief, and I am quite good. How did I become a thief? It was happenstance. I was age 13 when I was wandering the dark and dirty streets of Saratoga at night, stumbling on a robbery. Two men were pulling a bag off a woman's arms when they spotted me and snarled, dropping the woman on the street before pouncing on me. I stood my ground, unafraid of them. I was tired of running, and no one would notice my death; I was a nobody. My swift end never came, and when I opened my eyes, the snarling man's face had softened."Who are you, child?" 

"Lara," I reply. The man squats at eye level. "Well, Lara. How about you come home with me? I run a school of sorts for children like you. Let's call in a thief boarding school. I can sense the potential-you have the makings of a great thief. My name is Aller." Aller, her mentor. The man that guided me through my younger years to graduate to a high-class thief. Now at age 27, I was trained to steal from the wealthy, from the Androids. It's not like they noticed any missing valuable gems or metals, they had too much to care, and well, a girl's gotta eat.

Today my assignment was no different; I was contracted by a crime syndicate to steal an important art piece from their rivals: The Weston Syndicate. At least, that is what Aller told me this morning when I asked who the client was. He was very dodgy with his answers. I had some concerns, but I pushed them aside when he assured me I would get a handsome pay. Yes, I am quite a selfish bitch, sue me. I hardly cared if I stole from the Terils or a Syndicate; a mark was a mark to me. Syndicates have evolved in the last 200 years. When they first were born, they were called mobs or mafias. Now the members prefer the term "syndicate" to reflect their "growing class." I snort at the thought. They are still greedy pigs. Now that I have briefed you on my world and situation, I can begin recounting my assignment of the day.

I had planned to use the weekly shipment as a distraction. With the Trail Enforcers busy with keeping the rowdy populace at bay, I could easily sneak into Daria Gardens, the rich neighborhood of Saratoga, aka Android Ville. I round the corner and come face to face with the gates to Daria Gardens. Just as I expected, the gates are unguarded. Guess the guards were watching the free entertainment of humans fighting for scraps. Such arrogant fools. They thought themselves invisible, having upgrades that made them superior to us, and yet their cockiness never improved. I stop at the gate, carefully looking around for any drones or cameras. I find one lone camera hugging the corner next to the iron gate.

I move swiftly into the camera's blind spot, pulling out my portable communication device and hacking into the security's mainframe. Yes, I knew how to hack systems. Androids were surprisingly unsecured online. Trail's system, however...oh vey, that is a story that nearly ended in my death. My hacking program worked within seconds, and I fisted my hand in the air. My screen reveals the gate security feed. I drop a virus into the security camera systems- rendering them useless for five minutes. There. That should give me enough time to slip in. The guards would think nothing of the system going offline, blaming it on the faulty wireless network. I tuck my medium strawberry blonde hair underneath my black baseball cap. Looking over my shoulder once more, I slip in between the large iron gaps.

Once I am clear of the gates, I run straight up a grassy hill. Shit! There was nothing to shelter me from prying eyes while I ran, and if I didn't find a hiding spot soon, I would be caught and thrown in jail, if I'm lucky. I fly over the top of the hill, running to the nearest mansion. I hoist myself up the stucco wall, jumping down into a large backyard outfitted with a pool and lounge. Okay, now to find my way to Weston's place. 

Once more, I confirm the location via my device before opening the backyard gate, running into the residential street. Once I cleared the house, I began looking for mansion number 489. I run down the road and spot number 487 on the corner. That means..ah-ha! There was mansion 489, sitting at the end of a cul-de-sac. It looked like a castle shining in the midday sun! The white exterior screams pretentious, and the Spanish-style architecture boasted to the world of its riches. Spanish style architecture was reserved for the Elite of the Androids, aka Noe Weston, and other syndicate bosses. I shake the thoughts away before they distract me. According to Aller's notes, the art piece needed should be in a showroom in the back, near a pool and jacuzzi. I pull on the brown gate to the backyard, looking both ways, surprised to find it unlocked. I hug the wall and slowly creep around the house until I face a large, obvious pool. I see the showroom in the distance, the paint piece in the window luring me like a siren. I am lost in my mission that I barely react to the voices approaching. Hissing, I look for a place to hide, but there is nothing except the pool. Shit! I hate swimming, but it's either that or be caught. I plug my nose and step in. Despite my best efforts in being quiet, the pool makes a large splash against the metal door on the jacuzzi. When I resurface, a young, gorgeous man is crouched down, an angry glare on his face. "Who the hell are you?" He demands.