Aino looked at him with a serious expression.
‘My father’s life’s work became mine, and I hope someday you will carry the torch. What we do now can make a big difference to how people live in the future. Your school is among the best in the galaxy,’ he said, pointing towards it. ‘What you learn there will be important in Avalon even if it may seem distant now.’
She nodded again.
‘Even so, I want us to return soon.’ He hugged her, and whispered, ‘I will rebuild Avalon, no matter what, and we will go back. We will go back home.’
Ready to go, Henning stepped into the mission briefing room just above the spaceship dock, with a wide window overlooking the bay. The ship he was about to take to Avalon, a GP-3 group transport ship they called Groupie, sat on the docking bay floor with robot technicians buzzing around it, making their final maintenance checks. In the room was Belinda Killock, the head of Project Renascence, Admiral Atamian, to whom she reported, and two young scientists—a plump human woman and a thin Jindalar man—who probably worked for her.
The presence of the admiral was unexpected, and as Henning entered, he saluted.
The admiral nodded. ‘At ease.’
‘Right on time,’ Killock said. ‘Let us synchronise before you go.’
The admiral stepped forth. ‘First of all, let me say you have done great work in FIST integration. The inhabitants of Spit City won’t notice a thing in their daily lives. Now, let us turn our focus back to Project Renascence. We thought we had covered everything under Avalon, but if there are further secrets—’
Henning chuckled. ‘It’ll propel the Starcrasher system to the next level in no time … I’m sorry, I’m just quite excited about this.’
There was no secret down in Avalon. Henning had taken all his research with him, and still hadn’t disclosed it with the navy, nor would he be doing, because he couldn’t trust Belinda Killock. But he needed an excuse to visit and had told a story about a hidden data pack. If all else failed, he could disclose some of his research.
The admiral coughed. ‘As I was saying, Project Renascence remains a priority. Even as the threat of Remola is pushed back, just like we defeated the ODD and the Gornaren before them, we cannot become complacent. The universe never ceases to surprise us—just look at the black disks that have been popping up.’
This was nothing new; the navy was always looking for new technologies to kill more effectively, and it made Henning wonder why the admiral had even joined the mundane briefing.
‘There’s been a change in plans,’ Killock said.
Henning’s pulse quickened, but he retained a calm exterior. ‘A change?’
‘The original home of the project—Avalon and its surroundings—host a number of the affected. In addition to looking for the data pack, I would like to study some of the people more closely.’
Don’t say you’ll tag along…
‘Unfortunately, I am presently unable to leave Dawn Central.’
Henning let out a sigh of relief.
‘So,’ she said, gesturing at the young scientists who had been standing quietly at the side, ‘Junior Research Scientists Sofia Kvantström and Pike Shen from my team will assist you on your trip.’
Henning needed no assistance, but he said nothing.
‘Ms Kvantström will accompany you down—’
The plump woman smiled from behind her heavy-rimmed glasses.
‘While Mr Shen will provide remote lab support.’
The thin young man nodded with a serious expression.
‘Ms Kvantström, Mr Shen.’ Henning nodded to both.
Meeting his eyes, the young woman blushed.
‘You’ll mostly work with Ms Kvantström, who will conduct research on the site,’ Killock said, ‘and provide you with any assistance you’ll need down on Eura.’
Where Belinda Killock was perhaps overly fussy about every detail of her appearance, Kvantström seemed the opposite. In a world of polished appearances, with her wonky glasses and turned-around shirt collar, she appeared human, and her reserved smile seemed sincere.
‘What kind of research are we talking about?’
‘Ethnography,’ Killock said. ‘Interviews, observation, and taking some samples of the gifted ones.’
‘Samples?’
Killock flicked out a small device. ‘Just some saliva on the indicator here.’
‘If you’re looking for genetic information, there are easier ways.’
‘Who said I’m looking for genetic information? Anyway, you won’t notice her doing the work, but if you need assistance, she’ll be there for you.’
Kvantström smiled. Mr Shen stood rigid.
Henning wondered about the real purpose of their joining him. If they needed samples, there were plenty of operatives already on the ground at Avalon who could have administered a simple test, and they had done a lot of tests. She was sure to have a hidden agenda, but she would never tell him; the only way to find it out was to speak with Kvantström once they were on their way.
‘I believe we are done here,’ Admiral Atamian said, on his way out of the room.
Henning and Kvantström grabbed their suitcases, and, together with Belinda Killock they went down to the docking bay floor. The ship’s pilot, Federney, a messy-haired Andron fellow, greeted them on arrival. ‘A short jump to Eura? If it’s just the two of you, you’ve plenty of space on the Groupie.’
‘That’s great, because I don’t travel that often,’ Kvantström said, and bit her lip. ‘And I hate cramped capsules.’
‘No worry about that on the Groupie,’ Federney said, eyeing them with a chuckle.
‘What is it?’ Henning asked.
‘If I hadn’t read the flight plans, I’d say you’re a couple going on a holiday.’
‘This is no holiday, and we’re no couple.’
‘My apologies, sir. Let me get your bags and we’ll get going.’
The Groupie was accelerating away from Dawn Central, ready to pinch in a matter of minutes. Henning sat with Kvantström in the spacious passenger cabin that could have hosted ten people for a VIP gathering. Outside the window beyond the immediate vacuum of space shone needlepoint stars and the faint glow of the Poorelline Nebula.
Henning spoke little. His mind was already in Avalon. Soon he would return to the sacred place he thought he had lost forever. He wanted to rebuild the community but feared what he might find, because ever since he had joined the navy, there had always been a reason preventing him from travelling to Avalon. It seemed as if they had deliberately kept him out. But he shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. On leaving, he had left Skyla Almer in charge. He should talk to her first.
He raised his head and regarded Kvantström. She had been mostly quiet, looking at her handheld terminal. It was obvious why she was there. Belinda Killock didn’t trust him and had sent one of her own to keep an eye on him. The best option was to play along, letting her in on selected ‘secrets’ so that she had something to report back, and everyone, including the high-ranking officers, would be content.
‘So,’ he said, to break the silence, ‘Ms Kvantström—’
‘Sir, if you don’t mind, call me Sofia.’
He chuckled. ‘Good. And you call me Henning.’
She nodded with an awkward smile.
‘So, Sofia, what’s your story?’
She glanced up at him and closed the terminal. ‘My story?’
She seemed shy, and Henning tried to smile in a way that would make her feel comfortable. ‘I mean, how did you end up going to Avalon with me?’
‘Yeah, research people don’t often go in the field,’ she said, still smiling shyly. ‘Since graduating from the Dawn Science Academy almost two years ago, I’ve been working with Dr Render on machine-controlled telekinesis. And I’m excited to work with you because you see things differently.’
‘Oh, do I?’
‘Yep. Render’s all about technology, and as far as I know, you’re looking at what’s na
tural.’
‘Well done. So, you graduated just two years ago …’ Henning took a deep breath. He could’ve been her grandfather. ‘How old do you think I am?’
‘Sixty-five,’ she said, without blinking.
Henning raised a brow. ‘Correct. She told you?’
‘I read your file. But I have to say you don’t look older than forty.’
‘Thanks.’ He pinched some hair between his fingers. ‘See, it’s all grey.’
She shrugged. ‘But you don’t look that old.’
‘If you’ve read my file, you must also know about E?’
Her eyes lit up. ‘Yes, but not as much as I’d like to. You can heal yourself. Is that why you look younger than you are?’
‘Short answer, yes. Long answer, it’s complicated.’
‘But if Project Renascence started about thirty years ago, how can you have E?’
Henning smiled.
‘Because the chemical affected only kids, the ones below the age of five. The oldest are now in their thirties.’
‘If you know this, you should also know that the navy has never been able to replicate the Eura-experiment.’
‘Yes!’ she said, her eyes beaming, only to look down with a frown. ‘The chemicals don’t work, they never worked. The ability to use E must be from another origin.’
‘Smart deduction.’ Henning was genuinely impressed, since Project Renascence was still following the hypothesis that the chemical developed by his father, Jilius Dal, had been the cause of their powers. It was a catalyst, a way to scale the exposure, but it wasn’t the source. E was the power of the Shades coursing through human bodies to this universe.
She perked up, her cheeks glowing. ‘How did you get it? Tell me!’
‘It’s a long story. Besides, the story has holes I’ve never been able to fill.’ This was true—he had been a child then, and had to rely on the scant knowledge his father had passed on.
‘I’ve got time.’
‘Let’s see what we can find on Eura.’
She sat back, looking disappointed but hopeful, wondering how she’d get him to talk. The lights in the cabin darkened, and she gasped.
‘It’s just the pinch,’ he said.
She responded with a hesitant smile as the ship rumbled and the pinch pulled them in.
Chapter Three
The evening light coloured the world in a hazy calm as Jill Faith danced across the veranda, and onto the sun deck. The waves sighed up to the shore as she moved and spun in graceful motions. She finished in a pose towards the sea—her audience—and wiped sweat from her brow.
In just a week, she would perform in her first show as a dancer.
She popped the earbuds out and took a long, deep breath of fresh sea air. After all the vitamineralised air of the spaceships, the sea breeze was raw, but it carried the invigoration she needed. It also washed away the pang of anxiety that the news of black disks had brought about, rightfully so—fighting things like that wasn’t her life anymore.
After the Dawn Alliance Navy had given her and Tredd their freedom back, they had quickly picked a blue planet, Nanira, and rented a beach terrace from a small community on the outskirts of Lemonland, one of the most prominent galactic show business hubs. They had both lost their superhuman abilities, but freedom was dearer. What a relief it had been: gone were the dark corridors of intergalactic conspiracy and the ever-present preparation for war. Now she could take care of herself and focus on expression through dance.
She had hooked up with a dance club cheekily named Famous in the Bedroom, after the show which, a few years back, had made them known across the globe and beyond. The show began with four beds, the dancers rising from under the covers in baggy pyjamas, moving on to challenging acrobatic moves in glittering skin-tight outfits, and ending in an explosion of feather pillows.
In the club, Jill was part of a casual group with newbies like her and some who had come back to dancing after a break, and others who had no particular ambition outside exercise. Jill had empathy for them, but she aimed higher. Of course, she could never be the top of the world—she was already in her late thirties—but she had the drive, and the physique from the regular fitness regime in the navy. She cherished the idea of being a dancer.
Looking off to the horizon, the soft wind cooled her body.
Tredd had fallen asleep on the sunbed, a half-finished drink on the table by his side. He seemed to enjoy doing nothing—at least it seemed so, but Jill couldn’t find it in her to just be. Something had changed.
She nudged at him. ‘Hey, won’t you join me in bed?’
He came to. ‘You’re sweating all over. What time is it?’
‘Got carried away by the music. I’ll take a shower.’
‘All right,’ Tredd said, picking up his drink. ‘I’ll see you soon.’
Jill went inside and upstairs. She dropped a ball of bath salts in the tub in the en-suite, opened the hot water tap, and went back to the bedroom where she untied her halter-top and stepped out of her skirt and panties. She took a quick shower while the tub filled.
While the cool water trickled through her hair, she rehearsed the choreography for the upcoming show by running through the sequences in her head. Her role was demanding for someone of little experience, but she was determined to make it happen. Besides, she had all the time in the world to practice, and optimising for a goal wasn’t anything new to her. Dancing was enjoyable—just as she had expected.
She turned off the shower and the tap and dipped into the hot water.
Something made her think about Belinda Killock. The woman had made an approach on her aboard the Angel. It had come from left field, and she had turned her down. But sometimes, when she felt lonely, she wondered, What if…?
No. She shook her head, contemplating what had brought on the silly thought. Perhaps it was the sensual bath salts; perhaps she had been practicing too much. Belinda was a remnant of a different world, a world that for Jill no longer existed. Besides, she wasn’t lonely; she was with her childhood sweetheart, Tredd, and now that her electric powers were disabled, she wasn’t a monster anymore. Tredd was normal, too. They were as normal as anybody.
Just then the door opened, and he peeked in. ‘Hey, baby.’
‘Hey, you,’ she replied, resting her ankles on the side of the tub. ‘Give me a rub, will you?’
‘Just a sec,’ he said, and disappeared, only to appear a moment later in the nude. He walked behind her and lay his hands on her shoulders.
She let herself relax.
He was good with his hands. As he worked her upper back, he said, ‘You’re tense.’
‘It’s the training.’
‘Perhaps you shouldn’t train so hard.’
She turned to glare at him. ‘You know what it means to me.’
‘I do, but unless you take time to recover, you’ll risk an injury.’
‘This is recovery.’
‘True.’ He continued massaging her shoulders.
She let out a sigh and sank down into the warm water.
‘Just wondering if this dancing thing will continue for long at the same intensity.’
She adjusted her position. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You know what I mean,’ he said, stopping for a moment. ‘Raising a family—we’re not getting any younger.’
They’d had this discussion before. He wanted to have children now, but she wasn’t ready yet. Now that she was free from the navy, she didn’t want to get tied down with screaming babies. Perhaps someday, but if she did it now, she’d have to quit dancing—at least for some time.
‘We’re not that old, either. Women give birth well into their sixties, or seventies.’
‘But what’s a better time than this?’ he said, leaning against the side of the tub. ‘We’ve had our adventures and got out alive. Nanira is a perfect place to raise a family.’
‘You know I’d have to quit dancing—and I’m just getting started. Besides, you’ve got your mov
ie thing.’
He chuckled. ‘It’s more of a fun pastime. Doubt it will become anything big.’
The executive producer at Hurma-studio, upon learning about Tredd’s background as a navy captain and a Spit City bounty hunter, had invited him to join the production of Rocket Parables, a long-running action series with a moral undercurrent, as an expert advisor.
‘You’re into movies, aren’t you?’
‘Yeah, I guess I am.’
‘Or would you rather teach at a kindergarten?’
He grinned. ‘That would be a scene. Why?’
‘You know, if we had children, you’d quickly find yourself needing something else in your life. I know you’re not a kindergarten teacher. You should have something else, your own thing.’
He nodded slowly and played with the water with his fingers. In Spit City with FIST he always had an intense gaze, as if he was driven, but now he was more relaxed. It was good. It was what they wanted. Just as she had found dancing, he would find his way, whether it was in the movies or somewhere else.
‘We’ll get there, baby—this is Lemonland, a place where dreams come true,’ she said, putting her arms around his neck. ‘Why don’t you take a shower, and join me in practicing how to make babies?’
His face centimetres from hers, the intensity in his gaze was back.
Chapter Four
Berossus Dengo stood in the midst of the crowd in Gemma Central space station’s shopping district, fiddling with the universal tool he used at work. It could do some fancy tricks, from turning a screw to analyzing material composition, but it had been relegated to a stress toy.
Standing a head taller than the rest, he spotted her approaching from afar. She held two shopping bags under her arms, her cheeks glowing red. When she spotted him, her eyes lit up and her stride quickened. Berossus chucked the tool into his pocket.
Panting, she said, ‘I’m sorry I’m late, had to…’
‘You’re good. We’ve still five minutes until our appointment.’
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