“That’s gonna be a hard habit to break, I think,” Awen said to him.
Magnus smiled. “Anyway, yours is right here in the center.” He led them toward a blue tent in the middle of the cluster and pulled back the main flap. Piper peered inside to see a very spacious interior complete with two beds, ceiling lights, a storage pod, and a utility pod.
“And what’s that pod?”
“Your own bathroom. It holds a shower and a toilet.”
“That way you don’t have to share with any of the smelly troopers,” Awen added, thumbing in Magnus’s direction.
Piper giggled. “They’re not so bad. As long as they don’t fart.” That comment made everyone laugh. Piper liked when adults laughed.
“Would you like to get settled?” Magnus asked, looking from Piper to Valerie.
“Nope,” Piper said. “We want to see everything.”
“Piper…” her mother scolded. “Maybe it’s best that we—”
“Please, Mama? I really want to see everything.”
“Very well.” Valerie looked at Magnus. “Let’s see everything.”
Magnus winked at Piper and led the way out of the sleeping tents and toward the open areas. “Over here, we have two sparring arenas,” he said, gesturing to large pens made of metal stations and wire. Piper noticed large panels that looked like holo-projectors on top of tall poles. “These are mostly for the troopers, but you might be in here once in a while, too, Piper.”
“What’s sparting?”
“Sparring,” Valerie corrected. “It’s a way of practicing fighting people without actually hurting anyone.”
“Oh. So I’m going to learn how to fight people?”
The adults got quiet. No one seemed to want to answer her. It was weird, like they were confused by her question. But Piper didn’t think her question was confusing at all.
“Yes,” Awen said at last. “You’re going to learn how to fight bad guys.”
“Cool.”
“But not at first.”
“That’s okay. Just as long as I don’t have to wait too long.”
“And over here,” Magnus said, shifting directions and indicating each large tent with the flat of his hand, “we have the mess hall, the shower facility for the rest of us, the armory, and the enclosed combat-simulation environment, or ECSE.”
“What is an ECSE?” Piper asked.
“It’s an acronym for what Magnus just said.” Awen explained what an acronym was. “And one thing you’ll learn about troopers is that they’ll never miss an opportunity to make an acronym out of something.”
“Okay,” Piper said then turned to Magnus. “TYMLMS.”
Magnus glanced at Awen and Valerie then back at Piper. “What’d you say?”
“I said, TYMLMS.”
“I think she made you an acronym,” Awen whispered. Piper nodded.
“And what’s it stand for?” Magnus asked.
“Thank you, Mr. Lieutenant Magnus, sir.”
All the adults laughed again, but Magnus seemed to like it the most. “Nice one, Piper.”
“Thank you.”
“I think she has you figured out there, Magnus,” Awen said.
“Seems she does,” he replied.
“If you don’t mind,” Valerie said, stepping close to Magnus, “the Novia Minoosh… they didn’t have Repub tech for all this, right? I mean, there’s no way they called that big tent an ECSE, did they?”
“No. I gave specs, and then they supplied us with what tech they had on board. As it turned out, they had plenty of ideas on how to improve my designs too. The results are pretty cool”—he winked at Piper— “if you ask me.”
“Can we see? Can we?”
“Of course, Piper. This way.”
Magnus led the group to the last of the large tents, which someone had marked with a temporary sign that read ECSE. He placed his hand on a scanner built into the tent’s sturdy exterior wall, and the gray metal doors slid apart.
“After you,” he said, ushering Piper and Valerie toward the opening.
Piper stepped inside to find herself swallowed by a dark room. Even with the light from outside, the space felt ominous and black. It got even worse, however, when everyone had finished filing in and the doors closed. She let out a small yelp as the blackness enveloped her.
“Computer,” Magnus said, “begin simulation alpha zero one.”
“Acknowledged,” a quiet feminine voice said.
Like a sunrise growing in the morning sky, the air above Piper’s head began to glow. It was subtle at first, almost indiscernible. But within a few moments, soft purple light filled the sky overhead. As it did, Piper could make out the ruined buildings around the hexagon as well as the other tents in the camp. Within a few more seconds, the base camp was as clear as it had been a minute before when they were outside.
“I don’t understand,” Piper said, turning to see Magnus and Awen standing with the rest of the Marines and Marauders. She looked at her mother, who seemed completely enamored with their surroundings. “Where’d the tent go?”
“It feels like it disappeared, doesn’t it?” Magnus said.
Piper nodded.
“But it didn’t. We’re still inside it.”
“I am?”
“Watch.” Magnus pulled a pistol from his hip, one she’d never seen before. It looked very unusual—sleek and white, like something Azelon would use. Magnus pointed it at one of the stone buildings on the edge of the hexagon and pulled the trigger. A dazzling blast of blue light leaped from the gun and struck the building with so much force that it exploded into a shower of stones and fire.
Piper covered her ears and winced. She felt the heat of the explosion wash over her face. Magnus suddenly turned in the opposite direction and fired at the closest large tent—the armory. He squeezed the trigger again, and another blaster bolt tore a hole right through the canopy, leaving a singed orange outline and a trail of smoke.
“Mr. Lieutenant Magnus, sir,” Piper yelled with her ears still covered. “I don’t think you’re treating everything respectfully. Someone’s going to get mad.”
“Normally, you’d be right.” Magnus holstered the gun and helped pull Piper’s hands away from her ears. “But watch this. Computer, reset simulation alpha zero one.”
“Acknowledged.”
To Piper’s utter amazement, the hole in the tent rematerialized as if it had never been there. She turned around to see stones and fire moving backward, like a holo-movie playing in reverse. The fire was sucked into the rocks just as the stones reorganized themselves in their moss-covered form.
“Whoa…”
“Yeah, whoa is right,” Magnus replied.
“Can I try? I want to blow something up!”
Magnus laughed. “Soon enough. But first, Awen has something for you.”
“Like a present?”
“Like a present, yes,” Awen answered. “Come on.”
“Computer,” Magnus said, “end simulation.”
“Acknowledged.”
The light in the sky faded away, as did the rest of base camp, until all that remained was a single pinprick of light that spread across the tent’s entrance.
Awen walked back through the group and headed for the door. She placed her hand on the scanner, and the sections slid apart, revealing base camp just as Piper had seen it moments before.
“Can this project other places too?” Piper asked Magnus as they followed Awen.
“Anything you can imagine.”
“Anything?”
“If you can imagine it, this place can create it.”
“That’s incredible,” Valerie said.
Magnus nodded. “Agreed. It’s the best visual-replication tech I’ve ever seen. Blows anything we have out of the water. And then some.”
“I’d say,” Valerie said. “And… that pistol…”
Piper looked up and saw Magnus give a really big smile. “Yeah… wait until you see the other toys the Novia made.
”
Piper’s mom looked happy. Really happy. “I can’t wait,” Valerie said.
21
Once everyone was out of the ESCE, Awen took Piper’s hand and led her to the hexagon’s northern edge. She felt Piper turn and look behind them. Following Awen’s quick instructions, only Valerie came with them—everyone else was disappearing back into the camp.
“Where are we going?” Piper asked.
“To my favorite place on the island,” Awen replied.
“Is it up there? On that hill?”
“It is.”
“And you said there’s a present for me?” Piper hugged the stuffed corgachirp so hard Awen thought the head was going to pop off.
“Yup,” Awen said, squeezing Piper’s hand gently. “It’s pretty special.” She could tell the little girl was excited by how big her eyes were. “Just a little farther.”
Awen led Piper and Valerie down a grass-covered street bordered by several old buildings. The structures loomed overhead like sleeping giants beneath green blankets. The three of them passed empty windows and dilapidated door frames as the street began to slope upward. Awen felt the muscles in her legs strain as the path rose. Piper padded along beside her without any signs of stress, while Valerie’s labored breathing matched Awen’s.
“Are we there yet?” Piper asked.
“Not yet, little one,” Awen replied.
“How much farther?”
“Another hundred meters or so.”
“Okay.”
As the street began to level out, the view opened ahead to the small clearing that Awen and Magnus had discovered a few days before. Awen led Piper under the old gate that separated this space from the rest of the town. As they stepped beneath it, a soothing sensation flooded Awen’s senses. She’d noticed it when they first arrived but had been too overwhelmed from the journey to think much about it…
Who am I kidding? Really, she’d been too preoccupied with being alone with Magnus to think much about anything else. Awen had decided the sensation had just been her emotions playing with her. Only when she returned to the clearing later by herself did she realize there was something strange about the temple’s atomic composition. Something had been done to it in the Unity. When she stepped into her second sight, she saw it—a bed of vibrant orange energy underlying every stone, step, and structure. It held this space like a giant hand palming a collection of gems.
She didn’t know the full purpose of the energy, but one aspect of its presence was that she could slip in and out of the Unity with the mere whisper of a fleeting thought. So effortless was her first attempt to see with her second sight that she startled herself. The idea had barely entered her mind and—just like that—she’d crossed over.
This knoll was a thin place where the veil between the natural realm and the Unity was more like a clear silk curtain than heavy fabric. Instead of trying to shove the barrier aside like a heavy suitcase, Awen simply sighed, and she was over the threshold. Whatever this place had been, the Novia had made sure that those fluent in the Unity would have the easiest time accessing it. That made it sacred, safe, and the best place to train Piper. Awen was beginning to wonder if Azelon had known precisely what she was doing by recommending this planet and not Ithnor Ithelia.
“Look,” Piper yelled.
Before the women could protest, Piper let go of Awen’s finger and bolted toward the center of the clearing. A single short tree stood at an odd angle over two large boulders. The tree’s full branches shadowed the moss-covered rocks, creating a patchwork of purple-hued sunlight against the greenery. Surrounding the tree and the rocks were a shallow bowl and a knee-high stone wall. Awen felt sure this had been a fountain of some kind. The remains of an arch lay in the bowl, as if it had once been a bridge between the clearing and the pedestal where the tree and boulders rested.
Piper climbed over the half wall, raced down and up the bowl, and clambered up the nearest boulder. The poor kid had been cooped up inside starships and hideouts for so long—it probably felt terrific to stretch her legs and play. This was the closest thing to a playground she’d probably seen in weeks—maybe longer.
“Mama! Look at me!” Piper said, dropping Talisman and grabbing hold of a low-lying tree limb. The old bow didn’t so much as shudder under the girl’s small weight.
“Piper!” Valerie yelled, brushing past Awen and racing toward the little girl.
But Piper was oblivious, kicking her legs and giggling. Valerie jumped over the half wall and ran down the smooth basin. And then Awen noticed that Valerie wasn’t running toward Piper so much as she was running toward Talisman, the stuffed corgachirp.
As Valerie neared, the animal tumbled off the boulder, falling farther away from Piper. It landed among some rubble below the boulders and rolled down the far side of the basin. Meanwhile, Piper was pulling herself higher into the tree, legs wrapped around a second branch.
“Piper!” Valerie yelled again, reaching for the corgachirp, though the girl was lost in play, giggling to herself as she climbed. “Piper… Talisman! You dropped him!”
Awen’s heart stopped as Piper’s hand slipped off a branch. The girl realized the mistake a moment too late, unable to recover from the fatal error. A small peal of terror broke the otherwise gentle mood of the clearing as Awen dashed forward. But neither she nor Valerie would be able to save Piper from her fall.
Awen’s heart sank as if she were watching the event in slow motion. She actually thought of entering the Unity and catching the little girl. She could probably do it under different circumstances. But Piper’s small body was careening toward the basin at least five meters below. There wasn’t time.
Valerie screamed, outstretched hand grasping for her daughter, who was too far away.
Mystics, save her!
Piper’s body hit the grass-covered stone bowl with a loud crack. The sound wasn’t what shocked Awen—it was the blast of energy that knocked her off her feet, sent her backward, and slammed her into the ground some six meters toward the gate.
Awen’s head throbbed. She already felt a lump forming on the back of her skull. She opened her eyes to see the purple-blue sky of a new day stretching above her, seabirds riding the ocean winds.
Awen blinked several times and tried to prop herself up, gasping for breath. The fall had knocked the wind out of her. Then she looked across at the tree and the boulders. Some of the moss and grass around Piper’s point of impact had been raked back, as if someone with a garden tool had ripped away weeds. Clods of dirt and chunks of rock lay in all directions for a dozen meters. Awen couldn’t see Piper, but she could see Valerie. Like Awen, the woman was struggling to raise herself on her elbows and blinking toward the basin.
“Piper?” Valerie asked, weakly at first. She repeated her daughter’s name as she got to her knees.
Awen was finally able to stand and started walking and then jogging toward Piper. She feared the worst. Whatever had just happened was the result of her carelessness. She shouldn’t have let Piper climb the tree or allowed the girl to move so far away from her stuffed animal. Mystics, this is all my fault!
“Piper!” Valerie’s voice broke as she scrambled over the stones.
“I’m right here, Mama,” a soft voice said. “I’m okay.”
Relief washed over Awen, so much so that she nearly collapsed. She couldn’t see the little girl, but her voice sounded cheerful. As Awen and Valerie converged on the ancient fountain, Awen noticed a deep recess in the basin. It looked like an impact crater from a meteor strike. Reaching up from inside and clutching at the crumbling edge was a tiny hand.
“Hold on, baby!” Valerie yelled. Blood trickled from the woman’s temple. Valerie looked up at Awen then back at the crater.
The two women lay on their bellies with the arms extended down into the crater. The stone debris dug painfully into Awen’s ribs as she and Valerie reached for Piper, who—strangely enough—looked as if nothing had happened to her. Destruction surrounded her, but
Piper was completely unharmed.
“Are you okay?” Valerie asked, grabbing Piper’s right hand while Awen grabbed her left.
“Of course, Mama. I already told you so.”
“I know… it’s just that—”
“I’m okay. Promise.”
Awen helped pull Piper to the surface and fell on her rear end.
“Are you okay, Miss Awen?” Piper asked. “You look like you’re bleeding. You too, Mama.”
Valerie reached up and touched her temple then looked at the blood on her fingertips. “It’s nothing, baby.”
“I hurt you, didn’t I?”
“No, no, no!” From on her knees, Valerie clutched Piper around the waist and held the little girl’s head against her shoulder. “I just hit my head, that’s all. It wasn’t you.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Awen said.
Valerie’s eyes snapped open. She glared at Awen with a look of rage and fear. But Piper’s expression concerned Awen the most. The little girl seemed confused… yet hopeful.
“Awen, please don’t speak,” Valerie said.
“No, Mama. I want to hear her.”
“Baby, no. She doesn’t—”
“What do you mean, Miss Awen?”
“I mean, you did do this.” Awen pointed to the crater. “You did push your mother and me back. You didn’t mean to—we know that. But the powers you have… they’re strong enough to hurt people.”
“Like my daddy.”
“No!” Valerie held a hand at Awen. “Stop! No more of this!”
“Yes, Piper. Like your father.”
“No! It’s too much!” Valerie’s voice shook in fury as hot tears streamed down her cheeks. “Don’t listen to her, baby. She doesn’t know. She wasn’t there.”
“She does know, Mama. And so do I.”
Valerie froze then held Piper away from her to look her in the eye. “What?”
“I know I killed Daddy.”
The sound of a child saying such words was perhaps the worst thing Awen had ever heard. She had no experience to compare it to and hoped to all the mystics she’d never have to listen to it again. The worst part was knowing that the pain tearing through her heart was a fraction of that in Valerie’s. And Piper’s.
Ruins of the Galaxy Box Set: Books 1-6 Page 85