The Lost Voice

by V. St. Clair

  “Yes. Is there a problem?” The Minor didn’t really look like he cared whether it was a problem or not.

  “No, I was just hoping I could get a shower first—”

  “You may not. Your appointment is scheduled for nine o’clock and the Vicereine’s time is valuable.”

  Jessamine was summoning him for an interview?

  Guess she didn’t forget about me after all…

  “Oh, right. Let me just grab my shoes.” Carl ducked back into the room and tugged his shoes on without stopping to untie them first, nearly tripping at the threshold as he adjusted their position on his feet. The Minor seemed all too glad to be leaving this place, and they walked briskly down the hall and to the foyer where the elevators were located. The partiers fell abruptly silent as they stepped into view and summoned the elevator, watching Carl closely until the doors closed behind them.

  “Why is the Vicereine summoning me?” he pressed for information, wondering how much the Minor would tell him in advance. The more prepared he could be going into this meeting, the better.

  “Ask her yourself,” the Minor replied flatly.

  Carl raised his eyebrows and said, “You don’t know why she’s summoned me, do you?”

  Judging by the look on the man’s face, he had guessed correctly.

  “It is not my job to know, only to do as ordered.” They passed through the main lobby of Building-6 and stepped outside, where an aerial speeder waited.

  Since Carl hadn’t been in a speeder in years, this was something of a treat for him, though he was careful not to show his enthusiasm in case it made him look provincial. There was a driver already waiting inside of it—not the one he had become familiar with during previous trips to the Augenspire—and the Minor climbed into the backseat beside Carl.

  The back of the speeder was set up like a booth at a restaurant, with two rows of seats facing each other, though there was no table between them. The Minor took the rear-facing seat and said, “Take us to eight,” to the driver, who nodded and immediately took off into the air.

  The ride was much smoother than a ground-car, and Carl couldn’t resist the urge to look out the window as they pulled sharply upwards and over the tallest buildings in the Academy within the span of a few seconds, flying low in one of the government aerial lanes in direct line to the Augenspire.

  “Upon arrival you will be processed through a security checkpoint and searched,” the Minor began speaking, recapturing Carl’s attention. “If you are carrying weapons of any kind, you will need to declare them and surrender them prior to the inspection or there will be consequences. Once you are cleared, you will be directed to your meeting.”

  “Security?” Carl asked in surprise. He hadn’t had to go through security procedures during his previous visits to the Augenspire, but he supposed he should have expected it before being permitted to meet the Vicereine.

  “You have a concern with being screened for weapons?” the Minor asked in a slightly mocking voice.

  “No.”

  “Good. We’re here.” He opened the door and climbed out first, with Carl following shortly after. They were back at the main entrance of the Augenspire, which was starting to feel less intimidating with repeated exposure. Carl wondered if he would ever come to feel comfortable in this building.

  They passed through the front doors in silence, Carl keeping pace behind the Minor so he could follow without looking like he had no idea where they were going. The main lobby was enormous and had three different administrative assistants working the front doors, each at their own large desk with a wall of overhead monitors showing various aspects of the front entrance and parking lot. The first woman was on the phone, so they approached the man at the second desk, who stopped typing on his computer to acknowledge them.

  “Scan in,” he informed them, though Carl was the only one who had to place his wrist on the reader at the edge of the desk.

  His picture and profile popped up on the computer, and the receptionist scanned through the data briefly, glancing at Carl’s face a few times to confirm the accuracy of his photo before clearing them to proceed.

  The Minor led him past the bank of elevators at the back wall and into one of several hallways to the right. They stopped as soon as they cleared the threshold, where a standard body-scanner blocked their path.

  A yawning security attendant came alert when she saw them, motioning them over to her desk to the left and having Carl scan his biochip again.

  “You are Carl Vucanis, age nineteen, Gifted residing in the Deconstruction-Reconstruction school of the Academy, secondary focus in Physical Manipulations, with full-spectrum, classic D-R aptitudes?” she rattled off, looking faintly impressed at the last part.

  “I am,” he replied calmly.

  “What is your business here tonight?”

  “He has been summoned by the Vicereine,” the Minor responded smoothly.

  This elicited another raised eyebrow from the security staffer.

  “Are you carrying any weapons, including but not limited to: knives, swords, axes, explosives, steel or wooden bats, solid rods greater than one-inch in thickness and six-inches in length, razors, cutters, spike-launchers, sonic grenades, projectile launchers, or any other metal, wood, or plastic implement that could reasonably be considered a weapon?” She listed all of this very quickly.

  “Uh, no,” Carl responded, wondering at some of the truly alarming things they must have seen here to make their list so inclusive.

  “Any laser-powered devices, spectral glasses, thermal imaging technology, or other heat-or-light-generating implements?” the woman continued without hesitation.

  “No, nothing like that,” he assured her.

  “Any solid, liquid, or gaseous chemicals on your person that—either independently or when mixed—can create respiratory, dermal, ocular, or nervous damage to humans, animals, or aquatic lifeforms?”

  Good lord, how many different kinds of weapons are we going to go through? Carl wondered in amazement.

  “No.”

  “Any live cultures, including animals, plant-life, other organic matter, disease or cell cultures?”

  “I am literally only carrying the clothes on my person, and my emblem,” Carl insisted, in the hopes of speeding up this process.

  “Standard questions,” the security officer grinned at him before saying, “Please sign your name on this form, certifying you have been given the opportunity to declare any and all weapons, and are aware of the consequences for noncompliance with the Augenspire’s strict no-weapons policy for non-government employees without clearance.”

  She handed him a lengthy piece of paper that seemed to have everything she said—and then some—typed in fine print on it. He scanned it rapidly, paying particular attention to the paragraph explaining the painful and fatal consequences of noncompliance, and then signed at the bottom.

  “Great. You’re all clear to go to Advanced Screening,” the woman waved them on cheerfully, but Carl raised a concerned eyebrow and said, “Advanced Screening?”

  “You don’t really think we’re going to place you within striking distance of the Vicereine on your word alone?” The Minor looked at him like he was an absolute idiot, steering him down the hall and into a room no larger than a standard office.

  “Then why did I have to answer all those questions ahead of time, if you were just going to have me searched anyway?”

  A new voice answered his question this time.

  “To give you the opportunity to declare any weapons you were—incidentally and unintentionally—carrying on your person, to be returned at your departure. Since you have sworn you are unarmed, anything we find on your person will be considered an attempt to plot violence against a member of this government and you will be dealt with accordingly.”

  The man pulled on nitrile gloves as he spoke, keying up something on his computer and having Carl scan his biochip yet again.

  “Good to know,” Carl grimaced, mentally ma
king sure he wasn’t carrying anything on his person that could be even remotely considered a weapon.

  Other than my emblem, I should be okay…

  “Remove your clothing and place them into the receptacle by the door. There is a robe you may don if you would like to, as well as a pair of blackout lenses. Minor Finch and I will return momentarily.”

  “I—” before Carl could get a coherent thought out, the two men stepped out of the room—one through the front door and the other through a back one—and he was all alone.

  Well, this is a new experience…

  He could only pray the physical search wouldn’t be too invasive or painful, removing his clothing and placing it into a lined metal canister that opened up from the wall when he pulled on the handle. It made a faint hissing noise upon closing, and Carl shivered slightly as he unfolded the white robe he had been left to cover himself. At least it was plush and comfortable.

  The two men reentered the room without knocking, and it was back to business.

  “Please remove your emblem and place it into this secure lockbox,” the officer held out a metal box that somehow opened and closed without obvious hinges, about the size of a standard jewelry box.

  “You want me to remove my emblem?” Carl looked uncertainly to the Minor. It was against the law for a member of the Gifted to remove their emblem, and he wanted to make sure this wasn’t some sort of trap.

  “It qualifies as a weapon and cannot be worn in the Vicereine’s presence,” the Minor explained without inflection. “It will be returned to you upon your departure. Please hurry; we are short on time.”

  Carl removed the necklace with the crumbling cube on the end of it and placed it into the box, which was secured with his biochip.

  “Only your unique credentials will be able to open this box, so it is quite secure,” the security officer assured him, before placing it to the side. “Don your blackout glasses. The Minor and I will be in the back room during your examination, which will occur under ultra-bright lights.”

  Oh, good. They must not be doing a physical examination if they need ultra-brights.

  Carl donned the glasses and adjusted them to make sure no light got through them. Once in complete darkness he was left alone in the room, which was a little eerie. He could hear the buzz of the ultra-bright lights as they flickered on, and closed his eyes despite the blackout glasses out of reflex. Not that he doubted the glasses; they were meant to prevent even the most powerful light sources from penetrating them. But still, better safe than blind.

  He could hear other intermittent clicks and hums around the room now— probably other electronic scanning sensors which could only properly function under extremely bright-white light sources. He stood as still as possible, trusting it was safe to breathe because no one had told him not to. They could hardly afford to routinely kill visitors during their security searches.

  It was over in about two minutes, and then the room fell silent.

  “You may get dressed,” a voice said from within the room, and Carl removed the blackout lenses to find himself alone with the Minor. “Hurry up, we are nearly late.”

  Carl was tempted to point out that none of their tardiness was his fault and maybe they should plan their schedules with a little more flexibility in them, but he kept his mouth shut and recovered his clothes from the testing bin, pulling them on and noting the sterilized smell wafting off of them.

  “Hold out your wrists,” the Minor commanded.

  Though tempted to ask why, Carl did as he was told, flinching when the Minor slapped a thin metal bracelet around each one.

  “What are these for?” he asked, indignant.

  “A safety measure. You didn’t think you would be permitted in the Vicereine’s presence without any, did you?” The Minor curled his lip at him.

  “What do they do?” Carl touched them gently. They weren’t terribly tight or uncomfortable–mostly just cold. This did nothing to relax him.

  “If you become a problem, this will allow you to be quickly stopped.”

  Carl asked for more details about exactly what “stopping” him entailed, but the Minor didn’t speak to him again, leading him out through the main door and further down the security hallway, where they encountered a pair of elevators.

  Carl stepped into the spacious elevator and the Minor stepped in after him and hit the button for the two-hundredth floor.

  Carl had no idea what was supposed to happen when they got to the two-hundredth floor—he didn’t even know how many floors the Augenspire had, since he would be forced to change elevators after two-hundred anyway. He gripped the side-rail as the elevator shot upwards, bending his knees to absorb the force until he was able to straighten himself back up.

  Does it really need to go this fast? He wondered mulishly. It felt like he was about to launch into space.

  He couldn’t help but be impressed with how quickly he reached the two-hundredth level, despite his discomfort in the elevator itself. The Minor remained in the elevator when Carl stepped onto a landing to discover a Provo-Major in light armor awaiting his arrival.

  “Uh, hi, I’m supposed to have an audience with the Vicereine,” Carl said uncertainly, unable to entirely suppress his natural panic at the sight of a Provo-Major in their light armor.

  This one looked young, probably not much older than Carl himself, but with black hair and intense blue eyes that reminded him of someone.

  Oh shit, this is Hera’s son.

  Carl wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to acknowledge this out loud or not—probably not—or whether Major Topher had been briefed on where the Vicereine had met him.

  “This way,” the Major said, all business, scanning his own biochip on a separate elevator. The door popped open immediately. He glanced briefly at the bracelets on Carl’s wrists before motioning Carl in ahead of him.

  Not much of a conversationalist.

  This was the man Risa had been in love with, the one she had been depressed and angry about for years now? This was the man who had caused his own mother to take up the fight against him after he had her friends murdered?

  There was something strangely unanimated about his face, something missing that Carl couldn’t quite put his finger on. He wondered if the Major was always this bland, or if he was only showing his contempt for the Gifted right now.

  They were speeding upwards to the two-hundred-and-ninety-second floor, only eight floors down from the top of the building.

  Well, now I can say I truly know how tall the Augenspire is.

  They exited the elevator into a foyer that would’ve been at home in a high-rent office building. Bold red sofas were grouped around glass tables throughout the room, but they walked through the foyer and down a much plainer hallway before Carl could appreciate the decor.

  “What is this floor used for?” he asked curiously, wondering how much the Major would tell him.

  “Whatever the Vicereine wants,” Topher answered without elaboration, escorting him into a small conference room that was already occupied.

  Carl spotted Jessamine right away. She was sitting at the head of the table in her armor, her wavy red hair pulled back in its signature bun. She looked tired but resolved.

  The other woman in the room was identifiable only because she was wearing the rare, four-pointed Star of Excellence pinned to her slate-grey military uniform. Since there was only one person on the planet right now who had earned one of those stars, Carl knew this was Ground-Leader Andrea Skye, the head of the military’s ground forces.

  Seated beside her was a man in a similar uniform, except his tunic only had two white stripes on the upper arm to her three, and no Star of Excellence was on his breast.

  A Commander, then, Carl reasoned out quickly.

  Also in the room were two Majors, though they were standing in the corners of the room rather than sitting at the table, like menacing brackets around the Vicereine. Security, obviously.

  “Carl Vucanis,” Major Topher
introduced him to the room at large, and Carl looked at the Vicereine for some sort of visual cue as to whether or not he was supposed to act like he had already met her. Judging from her expression, he guessed not.

  “Thank you, Major. You may stay if you wish,” Jessamine offered, but Topher said, “I have other business to attend to. Please excuse me,” and left as soon as she nodded agreement.

  One of his peers at the back of the room—a short woman who looked like she could kick Carl’s ass in a fight—pursed her lips in apparent displeasure at Topher’s departure. Carl didn’t know why she wanted him here. He may be pretty, but he didn’t exactly have a winning personality.

  Jessamine somehow looked even more tired than she had a moment ago, but she gestured him to a chair across the table and said, “Welcome, Carl. Please, have a seat.”

  Carl sat, feeling distinctly awkward in this setting. When he met her at Hera’s house it was easy to forget she was the ruler of a planet, with billions of people at her beck and call. In the heart of the most impressive building on Elaria, it felt like sitting at a table with God.

  “I apologize for your abrupt dislocation from the Academy, but my schedule is quite unpredictable these days and I was not able to plan this meeting further in advance,” Jessamine addressed him.

  “I understand. It’s no problem,” Carl assured her, crossing his feet at the ankles and trying to appear relaxed.

  “Would you like something to drink?”

  “No, thank you, Excellency.”

  Ground-Leader Skye spoke now.

  “Do you know why you are here?”

  Carl raised an eyebrow and said, “Not exactly, though I assume it has something to do with my application to join the military. I hope this summons is an indication that I am still being considered for the position.”

  The Ground-Leader ignored this quiet plea for information and said, “Have you always wanted to be a Ground-Captain?”

  Carl was woefully unprepared to be interviewed by the most important, militarily-savvy people on the planet, and knew one misstep or careless word could be the end of his hopes and dreams.