Sunstar
Annalise Whelan
Copyright © 2019 Annalise Whelan
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All poetry quotations are in the public domain and given authorship credit.
Cover art by:
darksouls1 via Pixabay
Nikki Zalewski licensed via Adobe Stock
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 1
Amina paced outside his study door. Shadows were creeping up the walls. The tall clock chimed another hour, and anxiety clenched her stomach. Her breath stuttered as fear clawed its way to her throat, but she forced herself to face the door, raise her fist, and knock.
“Come in.” His voice was deep, calm. It probably wouldn’t stay that way. But she had prepared, practiced her pitch, and hope wavered inside her like a small flame. She entered and willed each step closer to him. Her fist unclenched, and she held out the crushed flier.
“Father, I saw this at the post. It would mean a great deal to me if you would allow me to go.” Her voice quavered from her tight throat, and she forced a deep, calming breath. She must sound sure.
“What is it?”
“An invitation. It’s free to anyone who would like to attend. They even reimburse the fare to the destination.”
“To what? Where?” He took the flier from her shaking hand. She knew the moment he saw, the moment he understood. His face flushed crimson; his eyes began to bulge, terrifying in the intensity of his growing anger.
“Please, Father,” she begged. “I’ll be trained. I can help people. Away from here. The neighbors won’t know.”
But now he was shaking. The flier flapped at the end of his grip. His gaze scorched her like a palpable heat. She shrank into herself, away from him. Look anywhere but into his anger.
He roared into her face. “No daughter of mine will ever be one of those abominations! Do you hear me, Amina? Ever!” He shook his finger inches from her cheek. Her hands came up as a shield.
She had tried to prepare herself. She hated this rage, each word hitting her like fists. Each blow chinked away at her defenses. Her lips began to tremble, unable to withstand the pressure of unshed tears. Still, he wasn’t finished.
“Never mention this again. Obey me, or you will be out of this house!”
Mother rushed into the room, her hands wringing a kitchen towel. “What on Old Earth is going on?”
“Bah,” he said with disgust, waving his hand like it were nothing. “Amina wants to go join that GWIPS or whatever it is.” Father settled back into his chair. It was over. “What I would like to know,” he grumbled. “Is whoever put this fool idea into her head and told her about this GWIPS in the first place?”
“Oh, my dear,” Mother said, turning to her with troubled eyes. “You’re sixteen. Why would you want to do that and go so far from home?”
Nausea rolled in her belly. She ran from the room and out the front door. Truth wrenched through her like a physical thing. They would never let her go. They would never understand. It wasn’t possible for their minds or their hearts. Anxiety had weighed on her, and now it heaved out and into the bushes.
“Amina,” called Mother.
Avoiding her mother, she headed down the red clay road for the village and Miss Pringle. She had to escape. It was the only option. She pulled the worn, wrinkled paper from her tunic pocket. Her list was short but necessary. Currency. Sustenance. Clothing. It was going to be a long journey from planet Aldernon to planet Kildren. She barely saw the fields flowing with red grass and golden-weed. She absently skipped over the stones in the stream and paid no heed to the boys working the hayfield. Her ears were deaf to their singing. Her mind was on her future and her dreams.
Thankfully, she didn’t see many of their neighbors in the village. She passed all the local shops with barely a nod to anyone. She didn’t know who might report to her father, and she didn’t need questions. Miss Pringle’s confectionary shop was empty when Amina stepped inside. It smelled of cinna-spice and fresh zest, of comfort. A smile broke over her face when Miss Pringle came to the counter.
“My Amina, how nice to see you so early.”
“I had to see you before I go.” Now Miss Pringle frowned. Amina slipped around the counter and wrapped her in a hug. “Thank you for always being nice to me.” She pulled back to look up into her sweet face. “I’m escaping. It will have to be tonight.”
“What are you going on about?”
“I’m going to join GIPS. Or try to.” She had left the flier behind, or she’d show Miss Pringle. “My parents won’t allow it. I don’t want to get you into trouble, but I must do it in secret. You’re the only person I can trust.”
Miss Pringle pulled away. “You mustn’t! I don’t understand. Your brother, or your mother? Surely they will help you.”
“I’m on my own.” It was simple and true. “You know what I am, what I can do.” Miss Pringle’s face tightened, and Amina hurried on. “I’ve tried to reason with them, to beg, but you don’t know how Father is. And no one can change his mind. Even if they could, GIPS is taking recruits now, so I can’t wait any longer.”
Miss Pringle’s mouth twitched, and her forehead wrinkled. Amina waited. “Ok,” she finally said. “What do you need?”
“Bread for three days travel. It will take me that long to walk to Greenway. There I can catch a shuttle to Kildren.”
“What about currency?”
“I worked extra for three months at Landry’s Farm, ever since I found the flier. I’ve got two spare tunics I stitched up in secret.”
“My,” said Miss Pringle with a lip twitch. “You’ve been preparing.”
She packed the bread tightly and gave Amina a quick kiss on her temple. “I’ll miss you, my girl.”
“Thanks.” Amina gave her another squeeze and breathed in the smell of her. Cinna-spice, willow-rum, cocoa. “I’m going to miss you, too.”
“Listen to me,” she suddenly said in a rushed, hushed voice. “I believe you have a gift. A special talent. And you’ve got a good heart. I know it’s not the same as if I were your parents, but I give you my blessing.”
It was easy to talk about escaping. It was another thing entirely to pull it off. She couldn’t go straight home to face Mother’s questions and concerns and never-ending coddling. She slipped onto the side path to the barn where she might find Derick. Meg whinnied a greeting, and she ran her hands over Meg’s plump sides.
“How’re you today, ya’ old horse?”
“She’s eating us out of oats.”
Amina turned to see her brother approaching with Meg’s harness. He was handsome, like Father, and made strong the way only farm labor can. She would miss his warmth and gentleness. He smiled. Oh, she would miss that. He was always happy to see her, even when she had been a little girl all bony legs and
arms following along behind him. During the lean times, he would slip her a little extra bread under the table. What would she do without him to look after her? How long before she saw him again? He would probably marry soon. Grief swept her. She shook it away.
“Something worrying you, Green Eyes?” he asked, stopping at her side and studying her face.
She tried a wobbly grin. “Just saying hello. I’ve got to clean up my nook.”
“If you say so,” he replied easily.
In her nook of the barn, she kept her escape stash. While Derick was busy with Meg, she pulled out the satchel she had made by stitching together old rags. She stuffed it with her leather gloves, a small sheaved knife, her saved currency, her few extra tunics, and the bundle of bread. Last, she slipped in her holo-vid. Derick had saved for months to gift her with the only piece of technology she’d ever owned. Probably the only one in the entire village. Derick didn’t understand her thirst for the outside star system, but he loved her enough to know she had the thirst. He knew about her ability, and years ago he had told her about GIPS. He told her she wasn’t alone, and she could have a purpose. He might regret planting that seed, but it had given her hope that somewhere she might not be an abomination. It became her dream: one day, when she grew up, she would be peaceling the Gwana Star System, keeping the peace as a peace officer in the Gwana Interplanetary Peace Squad. She would fly in star shuttles and see every planet in the system.
“Amina,” he called interrupting her thoughts. “Can you get that box just out of my reach?”
She sighed and hid her satchel in the shadow of a stall door. He certainly took advantage of her ability when it served. High above Derick’s head, an old box sat on a shelf. Amina shot her brother a grin. Facing the box, she planted her feet firmly, focused on the box, and “lifted” with her mind. How she did it, she didn’t know. It just worked. She could lift anything she could focus on if it didn’t weigh too much. It landed with a little hop, and Derick clapped. She laughed and curtsied while he watched with that proud big-brother smile.
“I wasn’t going to bring it up, but I know about Father’s temper earlier, and his refusal to let you go.”
“It’s what I expected. I don’t want it to worry you.” She chewed her bottom lip. “Besides, what if I did go, and they didn’t want me? What if I’m not good enough to be a Peacekeeper?” This buried fear had been creeping around in her head like a monster waiting for an opportunity to pounce. All of this she’s risking, what if it were for nothing?
“You listen, Green Eyes,” Derick said. “You are amazing. This talent or ability or gift, whatever it is, you have it. You. And it’s worth something. You may not see how wonderful you are, but the rest of us do. Fear is motivating our parents. Mother fears the star system will find out how wonderful you are and never let you return. Father fears what he doesn’t understand, and he fears you’ll be mistreated. In his own way, he’s trying to protect you. You know he’s a Naturalist.”
“You really think I’m good enough?”
“Absolutely.”
How she wished to tell him about her escape. She threw her arms around his waist. “I love you, Brother,” she mumbled into his shirt.
“Woe,” he chuckled, patting her shoulder. “What’s this about?”
“Just needed to say it.” She sucked up a sob. Mustn’t cry. Laying her plans on Derick would be unfair. He’s Father’s heir, and running the farm is what he wants most in the world. She refused to jeopardize his relationship with Father. No doubt he’d lie to protect her, but she wouldn’t ever ask him to. “Now get to work, Farm Boy,” she said.
Derick shook his head at her and grinned. “I’ll be Man of the Farm one day. You watch out.”
“Yes. You will.”
Amina watched him grab his box and move out of the barn. She collected her satchel and slipped a note into his barn nook. He’d find it well after she was gone.
Swiftly making her way to the front gate, Amina pulled a loose stone from the gate pillar and stuffed the satchel into the empty space. Now, if she could get through her afternoon chores and avoid her parents until the evening meal, she might be able to breathe. But probably not.
Entering the kitchen and sitting at the table, she trembled with anxiety. Terror sat heavily in her belly. What if she said something and gave it all away? Would they see her trembling if she held a fork? Father’s temper would be unimaginable.
Mother sniffed at her when she sat but said nothing. Her sisters were gently squabbling among themselves, oblivious to her. Derick gave her a studying glance but didn’t question her. Father wasn’t there.
“Is Father joining us, Mother?”
“The lady from the confectionary sent a message right before the evening meal. Something about an order that arrived late. She was very apologetic over the inconvenience, but could it not wait until tomorrow? I expect your father will eat later.”
Amina practically melted with relief. Dear, sweet Miss Pringle.
The lullaby of the moon swallow rose eerily in the darkness and silver light from the third moon lit the room. She needed to get up, to move, but fear had her frozen. She lay next to her three young sisters and listened to their breathing of deep sleep. She couldn’t help but spend a few minutes gazing at each of her sisters, not knowing when she’d see them again and missing their sweetness and round baby cheeks already. Enough. She could do this.
Amina rose from the bed careful not to make it squeak and eased over the rough wooden floorboards. As she was sneaking past her parents’ sleeping room, she heard a grunt and plastered herself against the hall wall. Her parents’ voices, indistinct but definite, filtered from the room. Unbelievable. It’s the middle of the night! She could see the front door from here, so close. She had to take the chance. Dashing as soundlessly as possible, she flew down the dark stairs toward the front door. Her momentum knocked her against the tall clock, and it tipped. No! She grabbed for it but missed. Wood and glass shattered against the stone floor. She shot a hasty glance up the stairs. A light flicked below her parents’ door, and panic shot through her blood. Her hands shook, useless, as she tried turning the bolt lock. Calm down! She felt the bolt give, heard her parents’ door squeak, the front door swung open. Cool night air rushed over her. Fueled by fear and adrenaline, she ran.
A fire burned in her chest as she fled down the long drive. When the gate finally appeared, sobs of relief racked her. Panting, chest heaving, she collapsed against the gate post. Breathe! Pulling herself up, she took a long look at her home. It was beautiful. Graceful though simple. The rolling pastures in the background, too dark to see now, but she could recall every detail. Her heart longed for her family as if she’d already been gone for ages. This was the only way she would be free. She dug her satchel out of its hiding spot, turned her back, and headed for her dreams.
Chapter 2
The planet Kildren orbited closest to the system’s star-sun, and she stood in its bright, hot light staring at the Gwana Interplanetary Peace Squad main headquarters. The path of small pebbles and colored stones sparkled in the sun, a remarkable treasure of the planet Kildren. It was welcoming and lovely and made her heart dance in excitement. Yet she did not feel ‘grown-up’ or have the instant self-esteem she had hoped for.
“I hope I make it,” she whispered aloud to herself. Straightening her tunic, she started up the jeweled path. She stepped lightly in her sandals, crossing the path quickly with the help of her long legs. Her hand closed around the silver bar on the door, and she breathed deep. Her eyes flashed a long, worried glance of green backward. A twinge of disappointment, or maybe it was fated rejection, came over her. Even before the door was open, she could hear many voices. She set her jaw and opened the door wide with a mighty swing. The room was seething with bodies. The voices she heard outside were a dull roar inside. There were four lines of people ahead of her facing a counter labeled Register. She subconsciously reversed a step pressing her back against the door. She hadn’t been
in a room with this many people at once, ever. She realized she was wringing her hands. Relax. No one’s paying attention to you. Get in a line.
“It’s a little overwhelming, right?” asked a voice in Amina’s head.
She swung around, startled. “Who was that?” Several people turned and gave her funny looks. The voice had been so strange.
Clear, yet hollow, the voice echoed in her mind. Shifting her gaze around the room, she didn’t see anyone who seemed to stand out.
‘By the way, I’m not your imagination!’
Amina’s eyes grew round. Her forehead began to perspire. This was unlike anything she’d ever experienced, and she was on the verge of freaking out.
‘I apologize,’ called the voice again. ‘I didn’t realize you weren’t telepathic.’
She took deep, calming breaths.
‘Please don’t hyperventilate before I can explain!’
People gathered around, chatting. The ones in line were facing the receptionists. It was clear only Amina heard the voice.
‘You aren’t crazy,’ the voice rang out, sounding apologetic.
A black-haired girl watched her from across the room. She smiled and waved a little and shrugged. She appeared amused by her show or whatever that had been. “I’m Gem. Gemima, but I beg you not to call me that. Sorry for that little mind-speak. I can transmit messages mentally, even implant messages on more open-minded people. I can also hear thoughts; although, I strive to mind my own. You were broadcasting loud and clear. I thought you might be telepathic too.”
Amina felt her head swim.
‘Come on! Relax! Are you always this nervous?’
Amina admitted that standing there with her mouth hanging open made her look ridiculous. She tried to relax. “I’m Amina. I’ve never heard of telepathy,” she said aloud.
The woman in front of Amina turned. “Pardon. Did you say something to me?”
“No, sorry.”
Simultaneously, Gem spoke. “You don’t have to speak. Just think your thoughts to me, and I can hear them. You’ll look less nutty that way. I guess you don’t know some people possess special Abilities? Unfortunately, not all of them are well understood. Telepathy research is in its infancy.”
Sunstar: Amina's story a YA scifi romance (Peacekeepers Book 1) Page 1