Shadows of the Son

by E L Strife

  Arms locked in his sleeves, Paramor kept his voice low. He checked the hallways. “Scanners show all three are together. They’re coming fast, but we have time. Your plans are in place, Sergeant Bennett. You have done what you can until they arrive.” Paramor’s eyes darted to Bennett’s hands.

  Lifting his palms, Bennett studied the pulsing light like rivers of lava in his veins.

  “What is this other thing you saw?” Paramor asked.

  Bennett leaned back, trying to stretch the growing tension out of his spine. He told him what he’d described to Atana and Azure.

  When Paramor’s stoic face offered no hint of ideas or secrets, Bennett sighed. “Probably a hallucination then. I spend so much time awake in the Ether I’m having trouble focusing when I’m awake. There are so many kiatna, memories, premonitions, and cries for help that my head is swimming. Do you know if there is any way to stop it or at least slow it down? I’m exhausted.”

  Paramor smiled grimly. “You will always have a steady stream of information flowing in and out of your mind. It just takes over when your consciousness is subdued at night. All of the Elites have continual connections.”

  “Everything is so crazy. Visions fly by me in this whirlwind; I can hardly stay on my feet.”

  Paramor’s voice softened. “Just hold on to the pieces. That’s all any of us do.”

  Rubbing the scruff growing in on his face, Bennett closed his eyes. “How do you know so much about Prospectors?”

  “Orionates always follow Prospector’s orders, which come from the universe.” Paramor stood unusually still, his eyes locked on Bennett with uncomfortable focus. “My job was to guard Sahara until you were ready.”

  Guilt stormed through Bennett. She proved the universe wrong again and again, proved she was stronger than it predicted. He needed to take a lesson from her.

  Paramor ambled up to Bennett. “It’s not easy finding out we’re not in as much control as we think. But few are born with hearts strong enough to hold such power in their sparks, like Sahara and you. We must use our skills to help those who are not so fortunate. When you accept your reality, you will find peace.”

  Pressing a hand to his chest, Bennett tried to rub away the notion his heart had swollen, invading his lungs and stealing his breath. Hanging his head back, he wished his father would come, prayed for his father, begged him to shed light in the growing shadows of his mind. The more Bennett learned, the less he felt he knew. Resting his hands on his hips, Bennett drew in a deep breath hoping to settle his nerves.

  “Stop looking to the sky for answers. The light isn’t above you. It’s within you.” Paramor held out a single finger, gently touching Bennett’s sternum. In a flash of cool, white light, Paramor’s body morphed from that of a humble Healer to a blazing soldier with white eyes, white chrome armor, and a pair of luminescent wings arching from his back. The gleaming handle of a Longsword jutted up from between his shoulders.

  Paramor withdrew his finger.

  Bennett felt a tug on his chest and looked down. A fiery orb floated out from his center to rest in the cradle of Paramor’s hand, the scent reminiscent of a struck match.

  The man’s voice resonated with godly depth and power, quaking Bennett’s bones. “Breathe and be assured. I cannot harm you, only help you.”

  White waves of light hummed with every pulse from Paramor’s being. “This is your spark. It is bright, on the outside. But look at its core.”

  Paramor circled his free hand over the orb. The flames outside turned into a clear mirage, exposing the heart of Bennett’s spark.

  Bennett squinted to find the inside black and hollow. He couldn’t understand how he was brighter than his father if his nucleus was so dark. The sight was disappointing. This is why I’m not right for this job.

  “You do not trust your spark, the universe, or the path you have ahead. You see only death, despair, loneliness within, though you have trained yourself to convey the opposite.”

  Paramor clicked his tongue and surveyed further, rolling the sphere telekinetically with a flick of his fingers. “You have distanced yourself inside, protecting and watching out for others, but not yourself.”

  “Don’t have the time,” Bennett said, wondering why they were wasting time on him when they were on the cusp of battle.

  Paramor cocked his head, white eyes pinned on Bennett. “Make it. You know how. I can see it in the ring.”

  Only then did Bennett notice a thin golden hoop swiveling around his empty pit. As he studied his deficient core, a tendril of citrine mist effervesced from his chest, like a solar flare, stealing his attention. An ochroid ghost, similar to Paramor’s white one, minus the feathered extensions, wove a thin tapestry of light around him, hinting at shapes of armor.

  “After you Coalesce, completing your seventh transformation, you will earn wings like your father.” Waving his hand in a circle over Bennett’s spark again, the flames flickered to life. “Any Orionate can inspect a Prospector’s spark. We are your soldiers. Our duty is to protect and serve you. But only an Elemental, like myself, can hold and heal the Prospector’s spark.”

  Guiding Bennett’s flaming spirit back into his chest, Paramor touched his sternum with the same finger as if there were a button to the magic drawer. “I cannot make it whole, but I can return it to its natural state. You must fix the darkness on your own.”

  Their light went out in the hallway, and Bennett found himself drowning in the blood-stained walls of Agutra’s imperial ring again.

  “You must learn to see the good and the bad, simultaneously. It is not only death. It is also defiance, and for a precious few, freedom. Understand and accept equilibrium.” Paramor slipped his silvery hands back in dusty sleeves.

  Bennett watched him go back to the polite, unassuming Healer Paramor was: splotchy brown robes, wrinkles on a hollow face, tarnished silver skin. He was the only Healer Bennett noticed who didn’t wear the stole of different colors over his shoulders. Teek had explained the strip was made of cloth offerings from the workers to the Saema or Healer who had saved their life.

  Looking into Paramor’s eyes now, Bennett could see the man’s conviction shimmer like stars.

  “They need you.” Paramor led Bennett’s attention back to the conference room. He waited for Bennett to nod his acceptance before turning and ushering him in first.

  Chapter 40

  EVERY VOICE SILENCED when Bennett stepped up to the control screen he’d been working at. Some members looked wary, others frustrated. He snuck a glance at Atana, wondering if she’d said anything to the others.

  She gave him a subtle shake of her head.

  Miskaht didn’t waste time. “What did you see?”

  Paramor placed his hands over Bennett’s shoulders.

  The touch relieved tremors Bennett wasn’t aware of until that moment. He looked back at Paramor, wanting to ask whether or not he should mention the last stained ship.

  “One thing at a time,” the man replied.

  “Are we changing the plan?” Atana touched his arm with a startling jolt of static. She bared her teeth in an apology but didn’t let go.

  “No.”

  Azure snaked an arm around Atana’s waist as he leaned in to whisper something in her ear. A surge of breath-stealing energy shot through Bennett’s heart. He watched Azure’s lips move. They need you outside Plasma Engineering. I would like to see you alone before you leave.

  Paramor jerked his hands off of Bennett’s shoulders. The three of them turned to inspect the Healer.

  Atana’s grip on Bennett fell away. “What is it?”

  “I do not know.” Paramor looked down at his fingers, his silver brows knitting in confusion.

  Atana shifted up next to Bennett until he could feel her breath against his cheek. The look in her eyes said this would be the last time they met in person before parting for their battle positions. Her voice was quiet and strained, the words drawn out like she didn’t want to say them. “I must go.”
r />   He inspected her, trying to memorize the shape of her face and the placement of every scar. “I wish I knew what you were up to.”

  A corner of her mouth quirked, suggesting she understood his doubts.

  “But I trust you.” Bennett watched her eyes brighten and squint. He picked up her hands, holding them between their bodies. “And these.” He rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles as Azure grumbled behind her. “If you need us, I’ll do what I can to help. Play well, my wildcard. And give them a good taste of what Blue Bomb can do.” With a wink, he, reluctantly, let her warm fingers slip from his. Don’t let this be the last time I see you.

  Atana smiled briefly. “Kios taught me something.” Taking two fingers, she touched them to her forehead, closing her eyes for a breath. Then she transferred them to the place between Bennett’s brows. A spark popped as their skin connected. Relaxing heat flooded out from her contact through his mind and into every corner of his body. “Lakat ahna viia cohas du niviia.” Let your light fill the shadows.

  When Atana stepped back and turned for the door, Miskaht caught her arm. “This whole thing feels disorganized and irresponsible, sergeant. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  You’re one to talk. Atana’s nostrils flared on her darkening face. Pulling herself free, she stalked out of the room.

  Hearing Azure snort, Bennett looked back to find the man leaning a hip against the console, glowering down at him.

  Resting his elbows on the computer station, Bennett braced his head and ignored the warrior’s behavior. “How much time do we have left, Amianna?”

  The young woman tapped away on the screen behind Azure. “Six hours.”

  Bennett straightened. “All right, let’s get everyone to their designated battle positions. I want all ships and soldiers in place within three.”

  Amianna circled the far edge of the console ring to speak with Libesh. Command and Agutra members disbursed in small, chatting clusters, leaving Bennett and Azure standing alone.

  Bennett could still feel Azure’s gaze burning into him. “Say whatever it is you need to get off your mind, Azure,”

  “Why do you have to keep touching my mate?”

  The emotion Bennett read in the depths of Azure’s sapphire eyes was being crushed back and tucked away, hiding behind anger, and a mask of strength Azure perpetually wore. “She’s a shepherd, first. And second, I get that you’re frightened by the thought of losing her again.”

  “I never said that.”

  “Cut the shit, Azure. We both let her go off like this on her mission during the mutiny, and she almost died.” Bennett slung a hand at the melted corpse of the abaddon deck visible through the window. “You saved her then. So you’re scared since you’re stuck on Agutra for this, that you physically cannot defend her if something in her secret plan goes wrong.”

  Azure’s eyes glimmered with tears. His body stayed locked and firm.

  “You can’t deny it. I feel the same way. But sometimes, when we love kiatna, we have to learn to let them go so they can find fulfillment for their hearts.” Bennett rolled his shoulders and stepped back toward the door, pointing firmly at the floor. “Your responsibility is to these kiatna, here. I will do whatever I can to keep her safe from Hope.”

  “And if you don’t?” Azure challenged.

  Bennett paused, imagining the scenario. A sharp pang cut through his insides. Losing Atana was losing half of the remaining La’kian, their fearless leader, and their hope. “Then I won’t be fit to be a Prospector, and you have permission to darken my spark. But I might spare you the trouble.”

  Shock parted Azure’s lips. Amianna gasped and looked over at him. Libesh made no sound, but her eyes held disappointment.

  Not wanting to discuss the matter further, Bennett spun on his heel and followed Miskaht and Glato’s path to the collector heading for Station Hope on the moon.

  Bennett knew he couldn’t tolerate failure on his part of protecting Atana. Two La’kian were left. They were his purpose. Like millions of others.

  Atana and Kios were the last substantial barriers preventing the Suanoa from ruling to the end of time. Unfortunately, the safest place for them in this war was far away from Bennett. Hope, Agutra, and Home Station were big targets.

  Trust is an essential component of love, Bennett reminded himself. He had to accept his vulnerability and learn to trust Atana, Rio, the shadows, and the universe tonight.

  Chapter 41

  PATTING TANNER’S SHOULDER felt like a pathetic attempt at goodbye to Bennett. They stood in the main hangar of Space Station Hope on the moon, a collector warming its engines beside them. He drew the young man into a hug. “Take care of yourself up there.”

  Tanner returned the affection with more force than Bennett anticipated.

  “You come back in one piece.” Bennett pulled their foreheads together, wishing they’d had more time together. “You’ve always felt like a brother to me.”

  A single jump of the young shepherd’s shoulders and Bennett knew; Tanner strained against his emotions hard. He’d never had trouble before.

  “Hey, it’s all right,” Bennett said low, gripping the back of Tanner’s neck. “And if your DNA sprinkles decide to come out, just roll with it. Don’t fight it, okay?”

  Lifting his head, Tanner nodded fervently. He sniffled hard and rubbed the water from his eyes.

  “Krett will join you in a few minutes. Corin’s onboard. Cutter’s on his way down from Level Four. Just get the ship ready and then take a deep breath. You will do great.”

  “Yes, sir.” Tanner adjusted the shoulder of his tech harness beneath his gray jumpsuit and hiked up the ramp.

  Stepping back, Bennett gazed up at the sharp flashes of lights along the ceiling of the seven-level depot warning of ship departures. A collector lifted from a landing pad on the left side of the third level, its thrusters booming throughout the metal cavern. It was odd, in his mind, seeing such an angry orange glow peacefully drifting out to the opalescent shield of Hope’s main gate. Two weeks ago, Bennett would have pulled his SI and fired at it, expecting the Linoans inside to snatch up the people below with their electric green ropes, sucking them into the rows of life-slots now packed with munitions.

  Balie’s Alpha Squad and those guarding Hope were waiting until the last minute to get in position. They would wait in the shadows where collectors couldn’t charge.

  Forty-five ships he’d played with on a screen—some collectors, others fighters and bombers of UP—rallied inside Hope. Engines slowly kicked on: a pop of ignition trailed by gentle whirs that progressed into droning hums. The air in the hangar rippled with heat as the fierce red thrusters of collectors joined the precise blue of UP’s armada.

  Tanner paused at the top of the ramp and turned back. “Thanks, B, for believing in me. I wouldn’t have made it this far as a shepherd without you.”

  A corner of Bennett’s mouth twitched in an urge to smile, but the realization most of the ships around him would not return made the weight in his heart too heavy. “It doesn’t take any effort, Remmi. Burn some fuel, kid.”

  “Yes, sir!” Tanner disappeared in the faint red light of the collector’s top deck.

  Walking back to Hope’s personnel entrance, Bennett took one last look at the shepherds and doku prepping the ships and performed last-minute inspections. Humans and non-humans worked alongside one another as they readied themselves to fight a common enemy. In all of history, there was no record of an event this united.

  Josie’s petite frame circled a space-mod FS-201 fighter, her Razor—a matte-black 501 with their most advanced tech and weaponry onboard—warming beside it. Catching his eyes on her, she let out a whistle that screeched through the entire hangar, slicing through the rumbling engines. Chatter quieted. She thrust a fist in the air. “Freedom for all!”

  A doku approached her side, holding a fist to his chest. “Avituvey dakan é!”

  The shepherds and doku alike shouted it in a chorus that vibrated
the floor with its power. Bennett watched as they stepped to the railings and peered out from their ships, taking to her chant.

  They were willing to fight and make the ultimate sacrifice for freedom.

  They were here because of his plan.

  Bennett let the thunder of their voices absorb into him, comforting the bones that ached from carrying the burden of their lives. He closed his eyes and listened, committing the combined sound of hundreds of unified voices. “I will not forget this,” he said under his breath. “I will remember every single one of you.”

  “Freedom for all!” Someone shouted behind him. “Hooah!”

  Bennett turned to see Cutter standing in the entrance to the main hangar.

  The pilots and crew responded with a collective hooah sending a final quiver through the floor. It echoed around the cavern as the crews finished loading, and ships lined up through the gate to take up battle positions in the void beyond.

  Cutter took Bennett’s hand and pulled him into a hug, a gesture Bennett had never known the man to be comfortable with. Releasing him, Bennett aimed to ask what was on Cutter’s mind, but the man turned away and hustled up the collector ramp. Bennett watched him with curiosity, a sense of dread filling his heart.

  With the doors closed behind him, the booming of revving engines and thrusters pounding the walls, Bennett marched down the central hall. The dark and empty Astrotech classrooms to either side made him feel like he marched in a one-man funeral procession to the elevator.

  Ten floors passed in a blink.

  His stomach burning from lack of food and utter mortification of the hours ahead, Bennett exited and wove through the milky glass corridors to Hope’s main conference room. Nearing the door, Bennett heard shouting. He stopped and listened.

  “You don’t understand. Earth is a fucking mess. People are rioting. We’re still having trouble getting our shepherds geared up and staged at H.Co. facilities because of the fighting and protesting. Several of the primary routes have been cut off!” The female voice was one Bennett wasn’t as familiar with.