The Sphere of Time

by TIME, S. O.

  “Did you try calling out for help? Even if Isao left, I’m sure he’d send troops back.”

  He shakes his head again. “The only way for us to make contact from these distances is through the relay towers above ground, but they were damaged by the first reappearing portal, and the nymians don’t let us get to them for repairs. No one has ever come back after trying.”

  “We’ll fix them,” Hitori chimes in from beside us.

  Neither I nor Botan noticed her come up. Her eyes are bright and determined.

  “We’ll get you to them, and we’ll fix those relays.”

  Chapter Twenty

  B otan crosses his arms and lowers his eyebrows. “No way, I’m not getting you kids involved in this. I’m not losing you again.”

  Hitori stomps her foot. “Well we’re not getting anywhere by just standing around. We have to get you and the others out of here. It’s not safe.”

  “That’s not going to—”

  “Why are you yelling, papa?”

  We all turn to see the girl sitting up in the pod, rubbing her eyes.

  “Alma, are you feeling okay? Does anything hurt?”

  She shakes her head, “I remember hurting at first, but then a glowing woman made it better.”

  Botan hurries over to her and places his hands on either side of her face. “Alma you can’t be running off like that. I didn’t know where you were.”

  With tears forming in her eyes, she replied. “I wanted to see Mama. I wanted to feel closer to her.”

  “But honey, we have pictures of her that we can show you here. It’s dangerous out there.”

  She shakes her head faster this time and then hugs him. “I want to go outside! I want to play! I want mommy back!” she yells into his shirt as he holds her tightly.

  “I miss mommy, too.” The dejected expression on his face reflects only a fraction of the turmoil I feel within his energy. “I’m sorry.”

  “We can help you,” Hitori says softly. “We’ve been trained. We’re more than capable of keeping ourselves safe. We can’t just sit here while innocent people are at risk.” She turns to me and gives me a look, asking for support.

  “Yes, that’s right.” I quickly respond. Botan looks to the both of us and slowly shakes his head before closing his eyes.

  “If we do this, we do this my way. Got it? With your shield and her healing, we might have a shot at this.” He turns back to Alma and wipes away her tears. “And you, little lady will wait here. We’ll be back before you know it.”

  Alma’s expression brightens. She nods ecstatically and embraces him once more. She wraps herself around him as he gets up and starts walking toward the back of the building. Hitori and I follow.

  “What is this place?” Hitori asks as we walk.

  “It’s an old production factory. They were created underground to preserve the aesthetics of the buildings and art above. They’re scattered about in different locations, but this one is the only one that hasn’t caved in. We use it as a bunker now.” We reach an industrial door at the back that’s big enough to fit two transport pods. It slides open to a large warehouse floor that has been converted into a tent city. Many areas are sectioned off by large blankets or pieces of sheet metal. Only a few people are up and walking about. I pulse out and sense around a hundred people. Too many to try and move all at once without being noticed by nymians.

  “Unfortunately, this is only a factory for processing metals for condensers. There’s not much that we can do with what’s here. At least there’s a fully functioning mess hall.” He taps Alma’s head. She lets go of him and hops off. She turns to us, smiles, then rushes off into one of the tents.

  “Is she going to be okay?” Hitori asks, “I healed her wounds, but we found her unconscious.”

  Botan’s energy spikes, but quickly subsides. “She must have done it again.”

  “Done what?” Hitori asks.

  Botan sighs. “Alma’s a red user. But she’s not like the others. When she gets really upset and loses control of her energy it bursts and she uses most of it up at once. It leaves her unconscious and it usually destroys whatever she’s standing near.”

  The damaged pillar.

  “Hana Kurosawa might be able to help with that when we get you all up north,” I say. “She’s an expert in condenser technology.”

  He nods. “Of course, I remember Hana. And I know Alma’s not the only one who would benefit from her expertise.” He turns to the tent Alma went into. “Hey, Sylva!”

  A woman in worn clothes walks up to us. She smiles, then turns to Botan and places her hands on her hips. “Would you look at that, the prodigal son returns. With friends.”

  She sizes him up, looking at his ripped-up clothes and tired demeanor. “Any good news this time?”

  “My latest attempt was…a bit less than successful,” he says, as Sylva shakes her head. “But—there’s a but—I think I’ve found our solution.” He points at the two of us when he finishes speaking.

  Sylva crosses her arms. “Is that a joke? You’re dragging children into this, now? And look at this one.” She turns to me, “What’s with the mask? Are you hideously disfigured or something? Why don’t you get it fixed?”

  “Sylva!” Botan snaps.

  Sylva raises her hands as if claiming she’s not at fault for anything.

  “No, no, no, you have this all wrong. They come from up north—they’re trained to use their condensers. These are no ordinary children.” He stands behind Hitori to direct Sylva’s attention. The woman looks puzzled for a moment and then I can feel her energy jump.

  “No way! Is that—” She stops short of finishing her question and squints her eyes as if trying to better analyze what she’s seeing. “Could you be Kaori’s daughter?”

  Hitori nods shyly.

  “I knew your mother,” Sylva says. “We weren’t very close, but I admired her art. How on Vitannia did you get here?”

  “We fell through a portal,” I reply.

  “They’re opening up there, too? They must have worked their way up from here.” She shakes her head and turns to Botan. “Is it happening again?” The fear that runs through her energy jabs into me like a needle. Botan shrugs, his expression grim. Sylva nods, her fear shifting to determination.

  “Okay. What are you going to need?” she asks.

  “Give us rations for a week. A few blankets, and rope,” he responds.

  She shakes her head, “Another one of our harvest beds failed—we have to trim back again. I can get you three days’ worth, at best.”

  Botan exhales uncomfortably. “That’s going to have to do. Are you sure you’re up for this?” he asks us.

  Hitori looks around at the people and makeshift tents before turning back to Botan.

  “We’re sure,” she says as I nod.

  “We’re really doing this, then,” he says. His smile is cautious, but hope lights his tired eyes.

  We head farther inside while Botan checks his holo. Groups of people walk together toward a clear area on the far side of the tent city. Servers stand behind a long table, ladling a watery stew into tin bowls and passing each person a block of bread. A few people sit on small tables and stools, but most gather in circles on the floor, sitting on pillows. Many people eye us curiously, and some even smile at us as we join the meal line. The children stare openly at my mask. Most of the stares, however, are aimed at Hitori. Despite the looks, no one really makes contact with us while we walk or get our soup. We find seats at a table where Sylva is leaning her head on the shoulder of a woman with beaded braids.

  “I’ve arranged for you two to have your own tents for tonight. It’s not much, but they’re enough to sleep in,” Sylva says, lifting her head.

  Both Hitori and I nod. “Thank you,” I say.

  Sylva shakes her head. “It’s the least we can do. Thanks for your help.”

  The woman with the braids whispers something to Sylva and gives her a quick kiss before leaving the table as Botan jo
ins us.

  “Your father must be worried sick. Does he know you fell through a portal?” he asks Hitori.

  Hitori tenses up a bit and plays with the food in front of her.

  “I doubt that. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was glad I disappeared.”

  Both of their energies become unsettled. Botan rests his spoon in his bowl and lowers his bread.

  “Hitori, there’s no way that’s true. Did something happen?”

  “Did something happen?” Hitori scoffs. “He’s probably out celebrating that he’s finally rid of me.”

  “Hitori, your father isn’t like that, he would never—”

  “He’d never what, neglect me? Try to tear me away from anyone who makes me happy? When was the last time you even saw him? He’s not the man you used to know,” Hitori interrupts.

  “Hitori, I—”

  Hitori abruptly gets up and looks at Sylva, “Which tent is mine?”

  Sylva sighs and points to a tent off to our left, by the outer wall. Hitori bows. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be heading off to bed. I’m really tired.”

  Hitori stands and strides away. Botan starts to get up as well, but I instinctively raise my hand and shake my head. “I’ll go.”

  My chest aches terribly seeing Hitori in pain. I head after her, not really knowing what to say or do, but compelled to go. Her tent is beside a row of five lined up against this wall. Most people are out having dinner, so it’s especially quiet as I pause outside her tent. I stand there, unable to move or speak. What am I doing here? I sigh and begin to head back when I faintly hear sobbing. I can’t feel others’ pain as profoundly as I could as Death, but her crying burns me inside. I immediately turn back and kneel outside the front opening of her tent.

  “Hitori are you okay?”

  “Go away!” she replies shakily.

  “It’s me, Eiji.”

  She doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t tell me to leave again, either.

  “Look, I know we don’t exactly get along, but I’m here if you need anything. We’ll make it back to Kou. We’ll get these people out.”

  Silence. Unsure of anything else to do, I stand and move to head back.

  “Eiji?”

  I stop in place.

  “Yes?”

  “Thanks,” she says, her voice a tired murmur. I sit back quietly and wait, not sure what else to say. Since she doesn’t make some cutting comment or tell me to go away, I decide that being there is all I need to do. Slowly her anger and grief melt into the blankness of weariness and sleep.

  By the time I get back to the table Botan sits alone, quietly staring at his empty plate.

  “Is she alright? Am I missing something?” he asks as I take a seat.

  “It’s a long story that’s not mine to tell. I’m sure she’ll explain it herself when she’s ready.”

  Botan’s head droops, his brow furrowed. “I’m going to have a very long conversation with Isao when I get back.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  C hildren’s drawings line the walls in the tent I was given. They portray family outings, playgrounds, pets, and toys—hopeful, happy scenes depicted in a variety of makeshift mediums. Despite the conditions, I still hear people walking around, chatting, laughing. Despite the frustration and worry lurking behind their eyes, they still hold on to hope.

  “Eiji, are you up?” I hear Botan ask from outside. “It’s almost time to head out.”

  “I’m up, I’m mostly packed,” I reply.

  I feel a slight dip in his energy. “Could you get Hitori? I still need to get a few more things ready.”

  “Yes, I’ll get her.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be at the entrance.”

  His light footsteps recede into the early morning activity of the people in the tent city. I gather my designated rucksack and slip on my loaner clothes—sweats and a T-shirt taken from the room labelled “designer dresswear” in the main hall, which is no more than a random office filled with scavenged clothes from the surrounding shops. I take one last look at the wall of hopeful artwork and make my way to Hitori’s tent. I glance at my holo out of habit, but there is still only an ‘x’ in the connectivity section. We’re really on our own until we get that communication tower running.

  I reach Hitori’s tent, but it’s open and emptied out. Her rucksack sits beside the tent, completely packed and ready. Confused, I pulse out for her energy and sense her and a few other souls behind an old work station. As I head toward them, I hear a faint strumming sound. As I get closer, the music gets louder and the melodies from the instrument's strings bounce off of the walls so softly yet with such purpose that I feel my whole body shiver slightly at its touch. I briefly close my eyes and picture the sun setting, washing the horizon in auburn light. I can almost feel the blades of grass under my feet and smell the tree blossoms as they sway back and forth in the breeze. A strong sense of longing pulls at me, but I can’t tell where it wants me to go.

  I open my eyes and head toward Hitori. Perched on a piece of broken machinery, she’s surrounded by children who sit on the ground as she plays on the strings of the instrument—a lyrica, I remember, recognizing the instrument I had seen on my first day in Maluii. Hitori’s eyes are closed, her faint smile belying the mix of emotions running through her energy as her fingers glide across the strings. When she’s done playing her piece, she opens her eyes and smiles in my direction. To my surprise, she actually seems pleased to see me. Something about her smile twists painfully in my chest even as it lightens my steps.

  “Is it time?” she asks as I walk up.

  “It is,” I reply, offering a hand to help her to her feet.

  Hitori takes it without complaint and I pull her up. She looks to the children. “Alright I have to go. I hope you liked the song.”

  A few of the kids let out whines of protest and have to be shooed away. One little girl goes up and hugs Hitori before running off. Once all the children leave, she sighs and we start walking to her tent.

  “That was really beautiful,” I say as we walk.

  “You only say that because you don’t know anything about it,” Hitori says, but there’s no vitriol behind the words. She looks down at the instrument in her hands. “The staff at home once told me that my mom used to play the lyrica. They snuck one in for me when I was younger for one of my birthdays. I tried to learn how to play, but just when I was starting to get good, my father found out and took it away.”

  “You seem to have remembered a lot. I’m sorry he took that from you,” I reply, but she just shakes her head.

  “Father said I should be focusing more on training, but I know it’s because it reminded him of my mom. Though he’d never admit it.”

  “Hitori I…”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ve since picked up painting and drawing and I’ve been paying more attention to engineering. I want to design beautiful architecture.” She smiles and runs a loose bang behind her ear. “I’ll be fine, really. Besides, the man I borrowed this from said I could keep it if I got them out of here. I plan to.”

  When we reach Hitori’s tent, she places the lyrica gently in a battered case and then gets her rucksack. We walk to the entrance where we see Sylva, Alma, and Botan. His rucksack appears to be identical to ours except that his also has rope and a few more bottles of water strapped on. They spot us and wave.

  “Ready to go?” Botan asks.

  Hitori and I both nod. Alma, who’s been clinging onto his arm, lets go and stands beside Sylva.

  “I’ll only be away for a few days. Okay?” Botan tells Alma, kneeling to speak with her face-to-face. She nods hesitantly and doesn’t reply. Botan looks at Sylva and she nods at him while resting her hands on Alma’s shoulders.

  “We’ll be fine right here, right?” she directs at Alma.

  Alma nods again, but I feel an immense uneasiness in her energy. I can’t blame her. She’s already lost her mother, and now she has to watch her father leave yet again. Most of the others here
are in the same place—dealing with past loss while the threat of losing even more looms with each new dawn. These people deserve a better life.

  We wave our goodbyes as we head through the double doors. I feel a cool rush of air flow down through the slide we entered from. It hits us with a cold reminder of the unknown that awaits us outside.

  “The communication towers are about two days north of here. Depending on how slowly we have to move, maybe longer. No unnecessary risks. Got it?”

  Hitori and I glance at each other before nodding. He taps his condenser, which contains a green crystal.

  “Thanks to some training in primaries, I can camouflage us for a short time, but I was never that powerful an illusionist.” He turns to me, “Eiji, should my illusions fail, you’re going to have to shield us.”

  I nod. Finally, he turns to Hitori and I sense a sourness in his energy that makes me a bit uncomfortable.

  “Should worse come to worst, Hitori you’re going to have to focus on healing.”

  Hitori makes a worried expression, but Botan taps her arm and attempts a smile.

  “Don’t worry, though, it won’t come to that.” He turns around and starts climbing up the tunnel.

  #

  Once outside, Botan quickly moves forward in the direction Hitori and I originally came from. I pulse out for nymians but don’t sense any. What I do feel are the remainders of souls again. I still don’t understand why I can sense these echoes of lives lost. In Vale, souls were either present or gone—none of this confusing in-between state.

  We move slowly enough to keep from making too much sound, staying low to the ground while weaving between the buildings. Hitori and Botan’s energies steadily increase in anxiety as we get farther from the bunker, but neither shows it. Everything is so quiet. We soon leave the path Hitori and I followed, heading northwest and away from the center of the city. We communicate only through hand gestures and holo messages. Even without the comm towers or active DeitrichNet servers, local communication still works via microfrequency.