by TIME, S. O.
“Can’t or won’t?” he asks.
I scramble for something to explain it. Anything has to be better than this.
“It’s stuck on, sir. An experiment Hana had me undergo backfired and now it’s stuck to me.”
Silence fills the room and the General looks back at his screen.
“Hana? Wait, you’re Eiji, right? Oh, I had the wrong file up. Please, take a seat.” Abruptly, his manner changes. His stern brow softens, and the hard line of his mouth relaxes into a faint smile. It’s hard to believe that moments ago it felt as though he was about to skin me alive.
I move forward cautiously and take a seat.
“Dr. Kurosawa mentioned her kin developing an interest in this program. I’m so glad to have you, Kou, and Hitori!”
He runs his fingers down the side of the table and the hologram dims out.
“I never thought Violet would have a child of her own. How is she? I haven’t seen her since she moved east.”
I wish I’d had more time to study up on Hana’s reclusive half-sister, Violet—my pretend mother while this whole ordeal takes place. If he asks me any personal questions on her, I’m doomed.
“She’s great. She’s going all out with her art projects.”
“Good for her. I still have a piece she made decades ago for my wedding.” He folds his hands and rests them on the table. To his left is a framed picture of a woman. Beside it is a damaged ring with a thread going through it. To his right are two other framed images, facing away from me. In front of those frames are small blue bracelets. They appear burned.
He keeps his gaze on the frames to his right.
“For the safety of our people, I must continue the interview as protocol dictates. I hope you understand that there are no exceptions to this rule. You’re free to interpret every question as you see fit, but you must answer truthfully.”
I nod. “Understood.”
“Why are you here?” he asks.
Unlike before, I don’t scramble for an answer. It comes to me naturally. “To find myself,” I reply. “To become a better, more complete version of myself.”
He taps a few notes onto a screen that I can’t see. His energy is calm and collected. I can’t tell if my answer was good or not.
“What is your primary directive as a Special Condenser Operations Agent?”
The correct answer is to defend and protect, but I assume that’s an answer he’s heard all day. I look to the frames on his table.
“To keep the people I love safe. Whatever the cost.”
General Bartek continues to give no hint as to what he’s really thinking.
“Coming from the Kurosawa family, I’m very curious to know what you think about this next question,” he says as he shifts in his seat. “When is it appropriate to use lethal force?”
“I don’t think it is ever appropriate to use lethal force.”
His energy finally reacts. It spikes and flattens back out for the briefest of moments.
“Is that so?” he asks.
I don’t respond. The general sits in silence. I consider recanting my statement and saying something else, but I don’t.
“Thank you for your honesty.” His energy shivers with disappointment as he leans back in his chair, a faint, derisive twist to his lips. “You’re free to go. Welcome to the program.”
The door behind me opens, and I see Kou. It’s his turn. I stand and bow. “Thank you for your time, General.” I leave the room and Kou gives me a thumbs up. His energy is calm and collected. He must really not think anything of this interview.
#
The building is practically empty by the time Hitori and Kou are finished with their interviews. Both of their energies are cool and steady. Was I the only one that had a hard time in there?
“Finally!” Kou shouts, stretching out his back as we all walk to the entrance. “That took literally centuries,” he says. Hitori sighs.
“Figuratively,” she mutters.
“How’d yours go?” Kou asks.
“After the interview, all he did was ask me questions about father,” Hitori complains. “This is going to be a long four years.”
Kou nods in agreement and opens the door to an unexpected crowd. People stand in silence on both sides of the walkway that leads back to the memorial, many of them holding signs or candles. The signs flicker with a variety of slogans: ‘Higher Defenses, Not Deadly Offenses,’ ‘Peace for Vitannia,’ and ‘We Must Progress Not Regress.’
Though they don’t block our path, their stares seem to press against us, slowing us down as we make our way to our transport pod. They don’t shout or make noise of any kind—in fact, they don’t even speak amongst themselves. The few other students ahead of us fidget as they walk quickly away from the building, lips pursing as their gazes ficker over the signs.
Humans watching the crowd might see only a quiet and calm protest, but the entire walk I feel deafened by the overwhelming rumble of their scared and anxious energy.
Chapter Thirteen
O n the ride back, neither Kou nor Hitori mention the protesters, and I don’t ask. As we pass through the iron gates of the university, the light from the setting sun hits the buildings of Maluii with a vibrant auburn glow. Interacting with the dimming light, the art pieces and murals change colors. Some shift forms altogether, simulating the transition from day to night. My favorite piece is a red holographic dragon that’s sitting at attention in front of a large building. Once the light from the sun leaves it, the dragon stretches, curling upward and around the building like a serpent and switching from a crimson red to a violet blue.
The glass streets shine brighter as the night darkens, illuminating the layout for pedestrians and transport vehicles.
On our ride back up the mountain, I receive a message on my holo.
@kouvert_operator: hey man pleeeeeease do me a solid and go home without me.
I look over at Kou, vaguely confused about his request, until I notice him holding Hitori’s hand through the seats. I haven’t given them any time to be alone.
When we arrive at the Kurosawa mansion, the pod stops and Kou finally turns to me with a hopeful expression on his face. I nod and get out of the pod. Kou moves to the front next to Hitori, and the pod silently whisks them away. I can sense a hint of relief in both of their energies as they make their leave.
The mansion itself has few exterior lights, but the interior garden is alight with biofluorescent plants and shimmering butterflies in every hue. A pleasant chirping from other hidden insects accompanies the meditative melody of flowing water. Surrounded by such peaceful beauty, I feel some of the tension leave my body as I stroll slowly to the main entrance.
Once inside, a group of children runs past me.
“Hurry, I’m starving!” one of them shouts.
“Slow down, we’re still too early!” another yells back, tailing the group.
Other people are making their way down the spiral staircase. Employees are welcome to live in the mansion with their families, so it’s common to see people I’m not familiar with roaming around. There’s always something going on here.
As I make my way to my room, I look at the different frames that line the walls of the Kurosawa home. They’re all filled with pictures or short videos of employees with their families. Hana and Kou are in a number of them, and even Hitori shows up in a few. I pause by one of the frames to watch a clip of Kou and Hitori in the front garden. Kou is playing with a couple of small children, carrying one on his shoulders, while Hitori draws on her tablet in the background, her face lit by a soft smile. For a moment, I can almost smell the flowers and hear the children laughing. A few feet down, I see another frame titled ‘A Few Months In’ with Hana holding her pregnant stomach. After a few seconds, a man walks into the view and wraps his arms around her from behind, placing his hands on her stomach. I instantly feel myself drawn to the image. The man looks just like Kou, except he has a beard. He’s wearing a suit like the one Hana gave K
ou; it might even be the same one. He appears very gentle with the way he holds her. I stare at them longingly until I notice my face is cold and itches. I rub my cheek with my hands to wipe tears away.
#
In the initial phase of the Incursion, it was generally assumed that the nymains were the bioengineered vanguard of an invading force. It was a reasonable hypothesis based solely on the creatures’ biology. They possess natural armor of unprecedented durability and three distinct weapons: six-taloned claws on each of their six legs, crushing incisors paired with a double set of extended canines, and a metasoma (the upward-curved “tail”) that ends in a sharp, hollow bone spur capable of delivering upwards of 50 grams of bioacid per strike. Additionally, the method of their arrival on our world—the teleportals—seemed clear evidence of an advanced technological race capable of manipulating spacetime on a level we are not even close to reaching.
Within a year of the first arrivals however, this hypothesis was widely dismissed. The random nature of the incursions suggested the vagaries of chance rather than a directed deployment. Furthermore, the creatures were clearly not optimized for our world’s environment. Though they are able to mate and lay eggs, so far none of the eggs have been able to hatch in the wild. Areas of extreme heat, such as the Hivaldi Desert, prove fatal to the nymians within mere days of residence. These observations combined with extensive research of their DNA suggests that they likely originated in an extremely cold climate with a thin, nitrogen-rich atmosphere.
As for the teleportals, they are still a mystery. Our inability to predict, capture, maintain, or produce one of our own has been a significant limiter to proactive research….
My holo chimes, alerting me to the time. I close the educational program and hold back a groan of weariness as I rub my dry eyes. Each day brings new assignments from our professors at the SCO. Combined with my need to learn so many of the basics about this world itself, I find little time for socializing. Each night I spend a couple of hours on the DietrichNet, scanning through articles on the history, government, and culture of Vitannia. The way the war is covered through the lessons paints just how tragic it really was. The damage was so bad that they couldn’t even rebuild—they had to evacuate the southern hemisphere, and the area is all but quarantined off from the rest of the world. There’s no way to get there except by flying. Aside from that, the reading is often very dry. However, since the alternative is enduring Hitori's biting comments at my ignorance, I push through. And now, a week has passed, and the moment I’ve been dreading has come—the moment I must open a Tear for Hana.
I take a deep breath and force myself off my sleeping pod. My holo goes off as soon as I enter the elevator, and a message from Aldrea appears.
@Aldrea_Rose: come down, quick!
Without warning the doors shut and the elevator begins to descend, moving so rapidly I almost fall. My holo sends me a push notification warning me that it senses a dramatic increase in my heart rate.
The elevator stops suddenly enough to make my stomach flip. I have a few seconds to steady myself as I go through the sterilization chamber, and then the doors open to the garden. Inside, Aldrea waits alongside Hana, both smiling. I still haven’t gotten used to Aldrea’s lack of energy. It’s not until I search inside the facility that I sense it—hope and nerves. I take a deep breath. I must open that Tear.
“Thanks for coming!” Aldrea shouts. Her excitement reminds me of Kou. We wave at each other and I walk to them.
“I hope your recovery has progressed. You look like you’re able to move about more naturally,” Hana says.
Aldrea’s nervous energy grows. “I’m sure he’s feeling better now.” She holds her hands behind her waist and rocks anxiously between her feet. “Right?”
I nod. “I think I’m fine now.”
“Great.” Hana smiles. From her pocket, she pulls out what appears to be a plain, silver bracelet and attaches it to the back of her condenser. She hands a second one to me. “Put that on,” she says. It’s cold and heavier than I expected for its size. I turn to Hana.
“It clips on,” she says. “Like a magnet.”
I place it near my condenser and sure enough, it flies out of my fingers and connects. It’s not intrusive, but the added weight on my neck makes it noticeably present.
“With my device, I can directly control the sensors, cameras, and projectors in the room to accurately log what you do. Your device allows me to monitor your physiology and energy usage in real-time,” Hana explains, holding up a flat tablet that is already blinking with lines and numbers representing various vitals.
“Good luck,” Aldrea says, eyes alight.
Hana takes a few steps back. “Whenever you’re ready.”
I inhale slowly and close my eyes. I picture a bench beside a fountain a few dozen meters away. I raise my arm in front of me, channeling whatever energy I can muster to a single point ahead. The energy doesn’t come readily; instead of dipping into a deep well, I feel as if I’m trying to scrape up dew from grass. It takes a few moments of concentration, but finally the gentle breeze pulls toward me. I open my eyes and see the light begin to bend around a tiny transparent sphere—the beginning phase of a Tear.
“Yes! Keep going!” Hana yells. I can sense the hope in Aldrea’s energy building. I can do this.
I focus on expanding the Tear, but I start to feel nauseous.
“Just a little more!” Hana shouts.
I continue, but the Tear wavers. The nausea returns, joined by a blinding pain in my head. I lose concentration and the Tear bursts, releasing a wave of force. I stumble back, unable to stay on my feet even as the pain recedes.
Hana runs to me. “Are you okay?” She helps me to my feet. “What happened?”
“I'm not really sure,” I say. “I had it—but then there was this pain—and the Tear fell apart.”
Hana’s enthusiasm deflates and, though it's clear from her energy that she's becoming upset, she still tries to smile.
“How about one more go?” she asks. “Now that you’ve had a chance to warm up.”
I nod and return to my position. Once more, I channel my energy to a single point before me, but I’m instantly hit by nausea again. I fight it off. If I can open just one Tear long enough for Hana to study it, I can save Aldrea. Again, the air merges into the point where I want to open the Tear. This time, however, the transparent sphere doesn’t show up.
“C’mon,” I hear Hana mutter. Not directly at me, but loud enough for me to hear. I push harder but nothing happens. I feel the echo of the pain from before, but like the sphere, it doesn’t fully materialize. The air that was converging onto that one location dissipates, and I collapse once more to the ground, my legs and arms weak. This time, Hana doesn’t rush to my side.
“What happened? That was even less than before!” Hana snaps. Her energy is heated and sharp—nothing I’ve ever sensed from her before.
“I—I’m sorry I—” The world spins when I try to stand, and I drop back to my knees.
“The nurses confirmed your injuries were healed and that your vitals were operating at normal levels now. What is the problem?” Hana demands.
“I’m not sure I—I know I opened that portal before. But every time I try now, it’s as if the energy isn’t there. Like I’m trying to wring water from a stone.” I can tell my words are slurred, but it’s all I can do not to blackout as another wave of dizziness and nausea rolls through me.
“Mom, he needs help!” Aldrea urges, holding up her holographic hands as if to remind Hana that she can’t help me herself.
Hana clenches her jaw, but she looks at her monitoring device and then walks over to me. She takes a small metal tube from a pocket and puts it to my neck, injecting me with something that washes away the worst of the pain and nausea. After giving the medicine a few seconds to work, she pulls me to my feet with an impersonal yank on my left arm. She waits for me to stop swaying and then let’s go.
“Well. We’ll try again tom
orrow,” she says, reaching behind my neck and removing the heavy ring monitor. “And if energy is an issue, we’ll find a way to transfer more into you,” she continues. I can tell from the smile she’s trying to force onto her face that she means to be reassuring, but it comes out sounding more like a threat.
“Mom!” Aldrea protests, clearly receiving the same impression. Hana turns away and strides out of the room, her energy in turmoil. Anger, guilt, and desperation fight for dominance within her, and I’m shaken by the strength of her emotions.
Aldrea takes a hesitant step toward me, her hologram clearly fighting to hold back tears. “I am so sorry about that—she’s not usually—she’s just—”
“She’s just trying to save her daughter,” I say. Hana’s outburst was frightening—and still is, considering the power she has over me—but I can’t help but empathize with her situation. All the success and technology her world can give her, and her daughter is still dying.
Aldrea sighs, “and more.”
“There's more?”
She nods. “Mom lived through the war—she lost so much. I know you didn’t grow up here, but I assume you’ve learned about the nymian invasion.”
“Yeah. Kind of hard not to.”
“That war killed so many and destroyed so much of the planet. We lost my father to it. And we still don’t know what started it—or ended it, for that matter. Our people have built incredible defenses since then—orbital shields, satellite monitoring stations, crisis shelters… But we don’t know if those portals—Tears, whatever—will stay closed. And we don’t know what else could come through. The nymians are hardly the most horrifying thing out there in the universe.
“My mother wants to create portals, not just to get research materials for my condition—but to ensure we have a way out. To ensure our people have somewhere to go, if the northern half of Vitannia ends up like the southern half. She wants to be ready to save us from extinction. She has ships she’s been developing that could take us into space and connect with our space stations as a means of emergency shelter, but at best it can only harbor a few hundred people. She wants to save as many as she can.”