by Charlie Wood
“Steve’s looking for you,” Orion said, stopping a few feet from Vincent’s desk. “He’s pretty pissed that you missed practice again.”
Vincent’s eyes never left his book. “Oh, no. I missed out on getting chased by training robots with the brains of second graders. How will I ever succeed at being a better hero?” He turned the page. “Somehow, I think Steve will get over it.”
Orion was intrigued; Vincent never let him into his room, never mind for this long—that must have meant he actually wanted to talk to somebody for once. Standing on his tippy-toes, Orion peered over Vincent’s shoulder to get a better look at the book. He knew he had never seen the book before; it looked poorly made and was filled with strange drawings and blurry, black-and-white photographs. “What are you reading?” Orion asked.
“Just studying for the exam next week.”
“No, you’re not. That’s not even one of our course books. Plus, all you do is brag about how you don’t need to study. What is that?”
Vincent finally turned around, craning his neck toward Orion. He squinted for a moment, thinking.
“Can I tell you something? Something you’ll promise to keep a secret?”
Orion was shocked at Vincent’s tone. He couldn’t remember him ever speaking this way, especially to him. “Yeah, I guess.”
Vincent handed Orion the book. “This is why I’ve been missing practice so much lately.”
Orion looked at the cover of the book. Its title read:
A HISTORY OF THE WORLD, FROM PREHISTORIC TIMES TO TODAY.
But there wasn’t a picture of the world of Capricious on the front cover.
There was a picture of the planet Earth.
Orion’s heart jumped. He brought the book closer to his face, his eyes wide. Underneath the drawing of the planet Earth, there was a sketch of a prehistoric caveman, an etching of a bearded man in a tall hat, and a picture of a crude-looking airplane made of wood.
Orion opened the cover and looked at the first page. Towards the bottom, it read: PUBLISHED IN NEW YORK CITY. 1931.
“This is...this is from the other world,” Orion whispered. “Where’d you get this?” He grew angry. “We aren’t allowed to have stuff from the other world. You know what the Leaders would do to you if they found out you had this?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Vincent replied, unfazed. “Look at page 77.”
“Vince, you aren’t—no one’s supposed to have anything from the other world. Where did you—you can’t have things from Earth.”
“I said, don’t worry about it.” Vincent took the book back from Orion, turned to a page, and then shoved it back to him. “Now look at that.”
Orion held the book away from him. “No, I don’t want to, I don’t want to even see anything from—”
“Just look at it,” Vincent said through clenched teeth, pushing the book back to Orion.
With his hands shaking, Orion looked down at the page.
The book showed a black-and-white photograph of an ancient stonewall, covered in vines. Parts of the wall were painted with blocky images of humans and animals—the humans were shirtless and wearing giant feathered headdresses, while the animals were various species of buffaloes and cows. The artwork was fairly intricate, showing the humans hunting and living in settlements, but the images seemed to be faded, as if they had been created hundreds of years ago. A caption under the photograph read: ANCIENT ARTWORK FROM SOUTH AMERICA.
Orion was confused. “What is this?”
“They are temple drawings,” Vincent explained. “From the walls of an ancient structure on Earth. Made by the Padmains, one of the very first advanced civilizations that lived there. Those drawings were created over 3,000 years ago. According to writings found near the drawings, they depict a time when the Earth was visited by people from another world. The Padmains called them the Sky People.”
Orion looked at the next page. The temple drawings there showed the shirtless men in headdresses standing in front of a circular, six-foot-tall, swirling portal of electricity, hovering above the ground. Strange creatures—men with the heads of snakes, armor-wearing foxes, and wild-eyed, fanged goblins—were coming out of the portal and floating down to Earth. The humans were afraid.
“Notice anything familiar?” Vincent asked.
With his breath caught in his chest and his fingers barely able to hold onto the book, Orion scanned the temple paintings. The creatures emerging from the electrified portals were getting scarier and larger, with each one being more vicious than the next: a rhinoceros-like man, spearing one of the humans with its tusk; a faceless, hooded demon, clawing at a man’s chest; a figure in a space suit, firing a long rifle at the fleeing humans.
Finally, at the bottom of the page, Orion stopped. He stared at the last temple drawing, in shock.
The ancient drawing showed a striped, tiger-like beast, walking on its hind legs like a man and carrying an axe. The beast had long fangs growing from its mouth and black hair running down its neck.
“That...” Orion gasped, feeling his knees weaken. “That...”
“Looks like me,” Vincent replied calmly. “Though they really didn’t do a very good job on my nose, don’t you think?”
Orion studied the photo, confused and scared, his eyes darting around the page. But it couldn’t be, he thought, as he looked at the paintings more closely. It made no sense. As much as Vincent liked to pretend he wasn’t, he was still just a confused, 20-year-old kid.
“How could this be, Vince, from thousands of years ago?” Orion asked. “How could this be you? This could just be an ancient story—a myth—or it could just be a drawing of something else.”
Vincent ran his finger along the words underneath the photo. “The text reads that the beast had fur the color of the leaves, and stripes the color of the night sky without stars. And that he could change into a regular man at will.”
Orion flipped to the next page. The drawings there showed the tiger-beast attacking the human warriors. Eventually, after many of the human warriors fell in battle, one of the last temple paintings showed the humans surrendering and bowing before the tiger-beast.
Orion stared at the axe-wielding, striped creature in the book, triumphant over the humans. “This is—this doesn’t make sense.”
Vincent looked out the window at the unending treetops and distant mountain ranges.
“Orion, I’ve been saying it all along: there are things out there—things about us—that no one is telling us about. I’m starting to realize there’s a lot of things that don’t make any sense.”
Orion turned the page. There was one more photograph of a temple drawing.
This drawing showed a final entity coming through the mirrored portal in the sky. It was a man dressed in shining, sleek armor, with his face covered by a helmet. The man’s armor had spikes running along its arms, and his helmet had lifeless, insect-like eyes and a rectangular grid of identical teeth.
Every person in the painting—even the tiger beast—was kneeling in front of the armored man in the helmet.
“Who’s this?” Orion asked, pointing at the image.
“That is the being that everyone walked in awe of. They all answered to him, once the tiger-beast had finished readying the Earth for him. It says in the temple writings that he was the most powerful of all the Sky People, and that he came to Earth to recreate it for the betterment of the rest of the universe.”
“What was his name?” Orion asked.
Vincent looked at the drawing, in deep thought.
“They called him The Daybreaker.”
CHAPTER TWO
THE PRESENT
It had been two months since the Dark Nebula fell from the sky and surrounded Boston, Massachusetts. But Boston, Massachusetts was no longer Boston, Massachusetts.
It was now the city of Harrison, the first and capitol city of New Capricious.
Behind the walls of the Dark Nebula, where no one from the outside world could see them, harm the
m, or interfere with them, the people of Harrison lived in wonderful peace and happiness. The streets were filled with gorgeous, silent, sleek cars and trucks that appeared to be classic models from the 1940’s or 1950’s, except that they gave off no emissions and no pollution. Blimps and airships glided magnificently through the sky, bringing the thousands of citizens of the city wherever they wanted, free of cost and within minutes. Every day was sunny, every sky was blue, and every moment was perfect.
The people of the city were filled with life and joy and a friendly energy. All of the citizens—be they green-skinned, white-skinned, or dark-skinned—considered each other family. They knew they were all in this together—this wonderful, amazing, courageous journey—and they knew they were all a part of something that was going to reconstruct the universe into what they knew it should be. As they walked to work, to home, or to meet their date at one of the diners along the waterfront, they always looked their best—with the men in their dark hats and freshly pressed suits, and the women in their pastel sundresses with their bows and ribbons in their hair. After all, this new world was so clean and crisp and shiny, the people—who had once considered themselves Rytonians but now considered themselves New Capriciouns—knew they had to match the perfection of their new home. And, of course, the children were always dressed in their best, too, with clean faces and washed, trim hair and socks that matched their shirts—except, that is, when they were playing hide-and-seek in the school playground or starting pick-up games of kermball in the luscious parks dotted throughout the city. At those times, the kids of Harrison were allowed to get a little dirty; after all, having fun and enjoying the outdoors was the best part of every Rytonians’ childhood, back home, years ago, when things were good.
Across the new city, there were various sights that made the people of Harrison feel safe, calm, and at home. Flags emblazoned with a green-and-black, tiger-like beast adorned nearly every window in the city, as a reminder of where they had come from. The freshly constructed billboards in the center of downtown—showing a cheerful, green-skinned man holding up a glass bottle of soda—always made everyone smile, especially when they read its headline: FIZZY COLA: THE TASTE OF THE NEW WORLD. From the very first day the people of Rytonia had been allowed to move to Harrison, a popular, brightly colored poster had seemed to be everywhere: it showed a New Capricioun family sitting down for dinner, with the wonderful city skyline of Harrison outside their window. The red cursive text on the bottom of the poster read:
NEW HOME! NEW WORLD! FINALLY! A PLACE FOR US!
Another poster in Harrison was even more prominent, as this poster was mandated to be hung in every home, place of business, school, and public place in the city. It showed an image of a handsome, young, seventeen-year-old boy with dark hair and dark eyes. He looked very dashing in the photo, dressed in his white suit jacket, white pants, and white tie, and as he looked over the city as a perfect sunrise gleamed on the horizon, he stood with his hands on his hips. This was the city’s leader, a young man named the Daybreaker, and the text underneath his picture displayed the thoughts of every person in Harrison; it read: A PROMISE FULFILLED. This poster in particular always made people feel safe and happy.
In downtown Harrison, near Rytonia Park, teens shared milkshakes in soda shops and danced the night away at the dancehall playing all of the latest hits. In the suburbs on the outskirts of town, mailmen pleasantly delivered letters (and smiles) to waiting housewives (with the mailmen always making sure to step lightly around the pet dogs and one-eyed octopuses, of course.) Everywhere in the city, kids rode their bikes on the sidewalks, men bought the morning newspaper on their way to work, and women cooked hearty, full-course meals for their families. The only reminder of the scary outside world could be seen sporadically on telephone poles throughout the city, but the people knew this reminder was necessary. The poster on the telephone poles was split into four sections, and each section showed a different person’s face: one face was of a dark-skinned elderly man in glasses, one was of a robotic boy, one was of a blue-furred dog in a cowboy hat, and one was of a dead-eyed, scary teenage boy with a mask over the lower part of his face. The text on the poster above the faces read BE VIGILANT!, while the text under the faces read: IF YOU SEE ANY OF THESE INDIVIDUALS, CONTACT THE AUTHORITIES IMMEDIATELY! OUR NEW WORLD DEPENDS ON IT! Sometimes, these posters could lead to frightening thoughts, but luckily, no one had ever seen the faces in the city, and everybody knew they probably never would. The Daybreaker wouldn’t allow dangerous people like that into the city.
In the western section of Harrison, a building once known as the Boston Museum of Fine Arts was now known as the “Vincent Harris Remembrance Center,” and it was here where the people of the city could spend a day viewing artifacts, memorabilia, and even the personal items of the man who had first started the process of their new world. In the schools around the city, the children were taught by teachers who were trained at the Vincent Harris Remembrance Center, and these teachers were experts at bringing the fascinating, important stories of history to life. A popular lesson was always “Vincent’s Valiant Last Stand,” in which the students learned about the green-furred, tiger-like hero known as Vincent Harris, and how he gave his life against the evil, twisted villain known as Strike. Vincent had been lost in battle only a few months ago when he was first trying to create New Capricious, as the red-eyed Strike—with his fangs dripping with blood and his claws gripping his electrified bo-staff—had struck him down to stop him from saving the people of Rytonia. It was sad that Vincent was gone, but everyone knew his memory and lessons would always live on, thanks to Rigel, Nova, and the Daybreaker.
And it was in the northern section of the city where the Daybreaker lived, in a wonderful, green, open park once known as the Boston Public Garden. Now, it was known as Trident Gardens, as the three-pointed skyscraper known as the Trident rested here. The young man in charge of the entire city—the young man protecting the capital of New Capricious—resided on the top floor of this magnificent building, where he could stand at his massive, ceiling-high, room-wide window and watch over the city. His name had once been Tobin Lloyd, but that was a long time ago, and he did not like to remember that life anymore, for it all had been taken away from him. He had a new life now, and he knew it was the one he had always been meant to have, even when he did not know it. Two months ago, Rigel and Nova had come to him and told him of his true identity: he was the Daybreaker, a powerful being from another world called Capricious, and it was his destiny to reshape the planet Earth into a new version of Capricious, where there would be wonderful creatures and brave superheroes and no wars and no suffering. The Daybreaker found this truth shocking and unsettling at first, but when Rigel and Nova showed him his new powers, and showed him the evil villains like Orion and Keplar Costello who would hurt those he loved, the Daybreaker had quickly learned it was his fate to protect the people of both Earth and Capricious from evil people like them. He could not let Orion hurt anyone else; he had to make sure that Orion could never do again what he had done to the people the Daybreaker loved. Orion and his allies had taken away everything from the Daybreaker, and the Daybreaker would never let anyone feel that kind of pain ever again. It was his destiny to eradicate that kind of pain, from everyone, everywhere, forever.
It was a strange life for the Daybreaker sometimes—to wear his white suit everyday, to work with Rigel and Nova on the new plans for the city, and to train with Rigel on the use of his powers—but it was a life the Daybreaker was getting used to. Sometimes he would think of his old life, with his old friends and family, and he would look through his photo albums of his old pictures, but he would never let that feeling last. Even though he was only seventeen years old, he had so much work to do. So many people to protect. So much power to use for good. He had to remind himself that his old life as a regular human on Earth and his old life living in Bridgton was a kind of poison, and a lie. If he had kept living that life, unaware of his destiny, it would have o
nly have led to the destruction of the universe. Two months ago, he had learned the most important lesson of his life: Bridgton, Boston, and the rest of Earth were not the wonderful places he once thought they were.
After all, people felt pain in those places. In Harrison, nobody ever felt any pain.
CHAPTER THREE
On a rainy, sunless August day, Chad Fernandes sat with his friend Jennifer Robins and watched the evening news in the living room of Chad’s family’s house. As had been the case pretty much every day for the past two months, the news was not good, and nobody spoke while it was on.
“It has been over two months,” the reporter on TV said, as she stood a safe distance from the purple-and-black, swirling dome of gas that had surrounded Boston since the beginning of June, “and yet still there has been no progress made in either figuring out what the dome is or how to get through it.” Behind the reporter, Chad and Jennifer could see the streets lined with tourists, with their cameras and cell phones, trying to get a closer look at the dome. Policemen were trying to keep the crowd in check, and they were especially making sure that nobody went past the barricade that marked the area that the U.S. government and Boston police had decided was a safe distance for them to stand. Past the barricade, endless vehicles of the United States military could be seen—armored vans and green trucks and tanks—along with hundreds of soldiers, policemen, and construction workers, who were building the elevated, steel working stations set up around the dome. Most importantly, scientists from NASA and other space research agencies from around the world could be seen testing the walls of the dome, taking readings and trying—desperately trying—to find a way to cut through the poisonous gas and smog that seemed to be miles thick and in some places as hard as diamond.