by Drew Bell
Chapter 9
Miles sat next to a holo-foil; he noted the rippling effect as he sat. Garth pulled a nutrition bar from a desk drawer and split it with his new friend.
“So, really? That is how it all happened?” he asked,
“Yes. I remember this crow attacking me and then white light. I think I might have caused it.” Miles admitted.
Garth reclined and nearly toppled over, then paused:
“The Convoy had to redirect its route when they noted an unusual supernova. That might have been you, then, I guess.”
Miles considered the possibility. It made sense, sort of. He approached the sophisticated workspace that belonged to Doctor Lalia Tarrus; in the past several hours Miles had digested a lot of information. Miles was intelligent; he had always done well in school, had the topic been relevant or interesting to him. In the short span of a few hours Miles knew the Callos people better than knew his grandparents; his ability to read Callos script made the chore easier. Garth was a good teacher, he tried his best to explain the day-to-day life in the Convoy, and when he was unable to put something in words he pulled an image up on to the console screen. On Doctor Tarrus’s desk were foils detailing her bizarre dreams;
“I was gliding over an ocean. The planet’s curvature visible beneath my wingspan.”
Another note read:
“The mote of light simultaneously blinded my eyes and warmed my spirit. I was at peace and the screaming within my head ceased.”
Miles could see the obvious parallels to his experience and Doctor Tarrus’s dreams. Doctor Tarrus had known to travel to Earth against the Convoy’s protocols in order to find the source of these visions; Miles himself. Miles didn’t have the faintest idea as to why he and this Callos scientist shared dreams, but he was certain that she was the key to unraveling the mystery.
Garth called Miles’ attention to a box underneath several books;
“This thing was hidden. There has to be something good in here.” Garth assumed.
Garth took the lid of the box off and tossed it on to the desk, his eyes widened and he reached into the box pulling out dozens of holo-foils. Miles jumped out of his seat:
“Are these discoveries? I thought you kept track of all of her research.” Miles asked.
“No. I have never seen these before…” Garth’s voice droned off in curiosity.
Garth held a sketch up for Miles to see, the scrawled image on the holo-foil obviously resembled a human wearing a tee shirt and pants.
“This a human.” Garth concluded. He laid out sketch after sketch on the table; each one a human boy in various mundane human situations. Garth read them out like a test:
“These are pants. This is a tee-shirt.” He read.
“Yeah.” Miles said absentmindedly. These images proved that Doctor Tarrus knew exactly what she was looking for: Miles. He closed his eyes and tried his best to remember whether Doctor Tarrus or the Convoy had ever been in his dreams.
“Not really.” He thought, “I might have drawn E.T. and some Pokemon. But I didn’t draw anything like this.”
He reopened his eyes and ran his hand along the sketch of him sitting at a desk, from a bird’s eye perspective; he pulled his hand up to his face and noted the graphite smear on his fingers: Doctor Tarrus had drawn in pencil. Miles held the image closer,
“A bird’s eye perspective…no, that isn’t possible…” He thought.
“Miles!” Garth shouted.
Miles flinched and held his arms over his head, a beaker shattered loudly.
Miles scrambled away from the source of the noise towards Garth, but Garth’s gaze didn’t leave Miles. Miles checked his arms to verify that he was not again becoming a crystal, but his hands and most of his arms were seemingly coated in swirling light.
“The light. It isn’t coming from me, it is surrounding me.” Miles said with curiosity, his voice trailing off at the end.
Garth’s eyes widened;
“I saw the beaker next to you rattle. When I called out to you light exploded off of your arms and broke the beaker.”
Miles flapped his arms around and brushed at his skin in an attempt to wipe off the light. Garth led Miles to a sink, running hot water and soap over his arms, the light glowed fainter, but didn’t ebb completely. The sink began to creak and showed creases, Miles pulled his arms from the sink and with them at a distance from him he ran to the far side of the room while Garth followed behind to turn off the sink. Miles reached for a fire blanket but was unable to smother the light.
“Miles, I don’t have any other ideas!” Garth exclaimed.
Miles started to yell loudly:
“Stop. Stop! Make it stop!” as he yelled he flung his arms and a mote of light shattered several beakers.
“Miles! Your arms aren’t as bright. They are dimmer! Flick off the light!” Garth shouted with hope.
Miles whipped his wrist and light whipped with a cracking sound like lightening, a small burn was left on the wall. Frightened Miles flicked his fingers to remove the light surrounding them, the beaker at the far end of the lab shattered as a mote of light broke through. Miles shrieked in surprise as Garth jumped behind a desk for cover.
“I don’t understand, what is going on?” Miles asked as his voice cracked.
“It is something alright.” Garth said cautiously, walking the long way around a desk to keep a distance from Miles.
“Can you turn it off?” Garth asked.
Miles shrugged and waved his arms, one small console’s screen shattered nearby as he did so, but ultimately the light emanating around his arms petered out.
“That is amazing.” Garth said wowed. “That must have been the source of that…oh, you were the supernova.”
Miles thought blankly about it, but the drop in his gaze assured Garth that this hypothesis was probably right.
“But this is a good thing, right? Think of the uses.” Miles asked seeking reassurance.
“Other than for destroying stuff. Or planets, I don’t see much utility coming from blowing things up with your arms.” Garth explained bluntly.
Miles’ brow furrowed. Garth tried to comfort him:
“Listen. I’m sorry. That came out wrong and mean. It wasn’t your fault.”
“No. I don’t think it was my fault. It didn’t make sense. This doesn’t make sense.” Miles admitted with a laugh.
Garth approached Miles calmly:
“You realize we can’t tell anyone but Lalia about this. Otherwise the Convoy and the Admiral would have you killed immediately.”
“Lalia?” Miles sought for clarification.
“Right, Doctor Tarrus is the only one we can tell about any of this. Even then, you will probably need to remain hidden for another month or so. Until after Phlasia, I told you how important Phlasia is to the Convoy. With harvesting and the slipstream portal, we would have to wait until after things calm down to show you around.” Garth explained.
Miles opened his mouth to interrupt, but was unable to provide a counterargument; Phlasia was too important to the Callos for him to be introduced; it would throw off their whole system. Not to mention, after the harvest the Callos and the Admiral might be a little gentler to a foreigner.
“You understand what I am saying right? Do you agree?” Garth asked.
“Yes, I get it. I need to remain hidden. But where is the Doctor, or I mean, Lalia?” Miles responded.
Garth hopped into a seat and wheeled himself past the broken console to an operating one; he began typing and muttered something under his breath.
“Well. It isn’t good news. She was transported to CLERGY 5.” He read.
“That’s great news! Should we unlock the doors?” Miles asked.
“No, it isn’t. She was sent to the psychiatric ward. This is a medical vessel, remember? She is being detained, the report says that she was taken hostage by her lab assistant Galio Forrt who tried to escape past the supernova.” Garth finished.
“Right.
Past me.” Miles beamed, his arms glowing again as he practiced another shot of light at a far off console, this time missing greatly and shattering a portrait on a desk.
“Yes, but Miles she was sent to the psychiatric ward. I don’t think she is about to be discharged anytime soon. The reports say that she had a mental breakdown during her hostage situation.” Garth read with squinted eyes.
“Really, though? She was a hostage?” Miles said idly.
“No. These sketches we have prove that she knew exactly what she was getting into. She left the Convoy to find you.” Garth thought out-loud.
Garth continued:
“She certainly wasn’t hostage. I know that Galio didn’t take her, but I can’t figure out why the bulletin would be incorrect; where are they getting their information?”
“Before a trial too.” Miles added.
Garth glanced at a portrait of Lalia and her lab team; she and six other Callos worked in this large facility. The short male Callos was Galio Forrt, usually he was never named in any of the Convoy periodicals, but Garth knew Lalia Tarrus’s reputation well enough to know that most of her discoveries had Galio Forrt by her side. It didn’t add up, he thought. Then the horrible thought crept in:
“Miles. I think that the Admiral knows about you. I think he is trying to cover up what happened on Earth. I don’t know why, but I have that feeling…” he was interrupted. A console began to beep signaling an incoming holo-foil message.
Miles grabbed the printed holo-foil from the console and read out loud the message Lalia Tarrus had Doctor Terr Belar relay for her. Confirming Garth’s suspicions.
“Miles, I don’t know what to make of your powers, but we don’t have options.” He began.
“Right.” Miles agreed tenativly, he knew what was coming.
“Will you help me free Lalia?” He asked with determination in his eyes.
“We don’t have any other options.” Miles pointed out.
“Things are about to get exciting.” Garth explained. He unlocked the doors from the lab outward, in the direction of CLERGY 5’s psychiatric ward.