The Survivors (Book 12): New Discovery

by Hystad, Nathan

  “Not that I recall.”

  “When Jules was born,” she said.

  “You expect me to remember a conversation from fifteen years ago?” I asked, ignoring the laughter from Magnus.

  “We said that maybe one day we’d implement them,” Mary said.

  “I don’t know… there’s something to be said for living out your days, and when it’s your time, it’s your time,” Magnus said, but Nat shook her head.

  “I disagree. We need to stay vital and healthy for our children. Don’t you want to see Dean’s kids grow up? To see Patty’s wedding?” Natalia asked her husband.

  “Maybe you’re right, but I say we all do it. The four of us. If we’re going to be experimental, we may as well have a support group,” Magnus said.

  “We’ll consider it,” I told them, not sure if I wanted to use the extenders or not. But looking down at Carey, I grinned, thinking about the dog. He would have died years ago without them, and instead, he’d been able to enjoy a happy and fulfilling life here with my friends on Horizon, after years on New Spero. One day, my coat was going to go dull too; my hips would ache, and my eyesight would start to deteriorate. Perhaps easing the timeline on that wasn’t such a bad idea.

  Mary stood, and Maggie darted to her feet at the movement. Carey didn’t budge. “Time for bed. Thanks for the evening. You want to tell the kids they’re coming with us?”

  Nat nodded. “We will tomorrow. Have a good night.”

  “See you at the graduation?” I asked Magnus as he walked us to the door.

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  Three

  Things couldn’t have been better. Jules was about to graduate, and in a few short weeks, they were starting their new mission aboard Light. The ship was next-level, and the other students were all jealous she was going on the brand-new Alliance exploration vessel instead of them.

  “You’re only going because of your father,” Wentle buzzed.

  “Who cares? Dean Parker is awesome, and Jules deserves it. She’s worked harder than any of you Volartien slugs,” Kira said, making Jules laugh. The Molariun girl had grown since their first mission to Menocury L05, but she was still tiny compared to the rest of them.

  “You’re only trying to get a job one day, aren’t you?” Canni asked, laughing with a booming voice. He was larger than life in his white uniform, wearing the full Gatekeeper-issued clothing. They all were, and Jules loved every moment of it.

  Jules wore a pin in her hair, which was half up in a braid. She loved chatting with her mother as she braided her dark curly hair. It was a time to relax in a hectic world. She touched the pin, a gift from Bazarn, and smiled at the memory of her ninth birthday.

  Their graduating class had forty students, the highest enrollment yet. Each year, the Alliance expanded, and more and more members sent their best and brightest to be taught at the already legendary Academy. There were children from races around the universe that she’d hardly even heard of, and Jules found it all fascinating.

  “Where’s Dean?” Canni asked, and as if he’d been waiting for his name to be said, he pressed through the doors to the back of the stage, where they were gathered.

  Dean’s hair was shorter, no longer falling in his eyes, but he wore the same lopsided grin that made Jules laugh and feel queasy at the same time. “What’s up, fellow Gatekeepers? Are we ready to show the universe what we’re all about?”

  No one spoke until Kira raised her hand. “Was that rhetorical, because, no, I’m not…”

  “You guys are no fun. Where’s your sense of adventure? Don’t you want to feel the wind of an alien world on your faces? Don’t you long for the shuttle trip through uneasy atmospheres, and to experience the thrill of a rescue? That’s what being a Gatekeeper is all about!” Dean was clearly excited, but Jules had to correct him on something.

  “You’re missing the point, though. We’re meant to record and report, and help people when it’s deemed safe and the only option,” she said, repeating the instructions Suma had engrained in them over the years.

  Dean waved in a dismissive gesture. “You don’t believe that, and neither does Suma. Slate definitely doesn’t.”

  “Doesn’t what?” Slate’s voice asked as he stepped around the corner from the stage beyond the darkened energy field separating them from the gathering crowd.

  “Nothing.” Dean’s voice turned sheepish.

  “That’s what I thought. Everyone ready?” Slate asked, and they all nodded. He was wearing a tie, but Jules grinned to see it was loose around his neck. He hated the things. Wentle was shifting nervously on his feet, and Jules was having a hard time picturing the Padlog youth being a hero. Her papa had told her not everyone showed their full colors on their sleeve, and maybe some of her classmates needed more experience before they really shined. She liked the optimism her father always exuded, and strived to be more like him.

  The rest of the graduation class formed up behind them, and everyone, including Dean, waited, motioning for Jules to take the lead. “Why me?” she asked.

  “You’re our mascot,” Canni said, getting an elbow to the gut for his trouble.

  “Because you stand for what our class is all about. You mentored us and led us through the last few years. Without you, we wouldn’t be here,” Kira told her, and Jules glanced at them all, tears threatening to form in her glowing eyes.

  “Thank you,” Jules said, and she turned to face the energy barrier. One second it was there, the next it was gone, and she couldn’t believe how many people were in the auditorium. It was stuffed to the gills with people from all around the universe. She took a tentative step, hearing their parents’ cries and cheers as their graduating class stepped onto the dais.

  Her blood thrummed in her ears, blocking the noise, and Jules felt for a moment that something was seriously wrong. She scanned the entrances, seeking trouble, then behind her, but nothing seemed out of place. Slowly, the sensation passed, and the noise of her surroundings broke through again, putting her at ease.

  She stood on the stage while each of them accepted a pin from Sarlun, her father on the platform beside the great Shimmali man, as well as Suma and Slate. Loweck and Karo were with the other instructors at the front of the seating, and Jules caught sight of Hugo and her mother. Her brother pumped a fist in the air and smiled when she waved back.

  The whole endeavor took over an hour, and when it was done, her nerves were fried and her feet ached. The group of students broke apart, and Jules walked to her father, turning to face the other kids. “This is the last time we’ll all be together. No more classes,” she whispered, and Papa must have heard her gentle musings.

  “That’s fine. Nothing in life is static,” he told her.

  “Except death,” she mumbled, wondering what the strange feeling had been about. There were still a lot of mysterious things that came with holding her powers, and she was determined to deal with them as they came.

  Her dad must not have noticed her ill-chosen words, because he turned to Dean and shook the young man’s hand before chatting with Canni. Dean stopped at the edge of the stage and was talking with the only other human graduate, a pretty girl named Charlotte.

  One minute after graduation, and Jules was ready to leave the Academy for good and start her time on Papa’s new starship, Light.

  ____________

  Jules was grateful the last couple of weeks had flown by. With the preparation for their move to Light, her parents had been consistently absent, leaving her alone with Hugo for several days, and it was her job to bring him to the Academy, where he would stay with Karo for the duration of the school year.

  “I don’t want to go,” Hugo said, sounding like such a ten-year-old. Had she ever been so young?

  “You have to, Hugo.” She carried one of his bags, and he dragged the other across the pavement, toward the robot-driven transport her mother claimed would be waiting for them.

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”r />
  “Why do I have to?” he asked.

  “Because you’re the only one in the family that isn’t a Gatekeeper. If you don’t do this, we’ll have to kick you out of the Parkers. You won’t have a last name anymore, and you’ll be forced to work some menial job counting snowflakes for a living.” Jules held back the smile she felt creeping in.

  “I don’t want to count snow. That doesn’t even sound like a job, and why would Mom and Dad kick me out?”

  “They don’t make the rules, but they love to abide by them,” she told him. This was too easy.

  “What’s abide mean?” Hugo asked, his rolling luggage catching on a rock. He tugged it free and kept walking.

  “It means they obey and accept the rules.”

  “Oh.”

  “You are going to love the Academy, Hugo,” she told him as they neared the shuttle. The door opened, and they entered the empty transport. Jules slid his bags under the bench, and they settled into their seats.

  “How do you know I’ll like it?” Hugo said miserably.

  “Because I went there for years, and I adored it.”

  “But what if I don’t? What if no one likes me, and if I fail my classes, and if the teachers think I’m stupid?” He said all this with the frustration only a child could exude.

  “You aren’t stupid, and everyone likes you, and Papa will have the teachers fired if they’re mean to you.” She winked at Hugo, and he laughed.

  “Really?”

  “No, he wouldn’t go to that extent, but you catch my drift,” she said.

  “Thanks, Jules. I wish you were staying with me.”

  She reached over and took his hand. It was warm and soft, and she squeezed it in her grasp. “We’ll have the portal, so we can check in all the time, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Jules saw the school through the viewscreen, and for a moment, emotions threatened to burst from her. The Academy had been such a big part of her life, and it was hard to imagine that it was over, that she was the youngest graduate in the program, and that her little brother was starting his first year.

  All she’d ever wanted was to be like her parents, and Hugo was far different than her. He might really struggle with things, but like her dad said, maybe it would just take him a little longer to find his calling in life.

  “Why are you crying?” Hugo asked her as the shuttle landed near the statue at the front of the school. She’d been through so much there, and each time she saw the statue, it reminded her of the Kold attack on their soil, and how she and the other students had fought them off, fending for themselves. It was a proud memory, one with a lot of trauma stitched into it.

  “I’m happy, that’s all.”

  “Weird way of showing it,” Hugo said, shaking his head.

  They headed for the residences, and Karo met them down the street, grabbing hold of the bags and easily carrying them by himself. “Hugo, we’re so glad you can stay with us.”

  Jules really liked Karo. She remembered visiting him when she was just a little girl, wanting to help so badly, but unsure how. It turned out she’d needed to fix the damaged portals, setting the Theos free from their traps.

  Karo hadn’t aged a day since then, his posture commanding, his hair long and white. He was an ancient being, and Ableen emerged from their home, resplendent as always. If there was a more graceful couple in the universe, Jules hadn’t met them. Jules noted how Ableen looked at Karo, and how he returned her loving gaze. It was the same way her parents were with one another, and it gave her hope.

  “Jules, are you all set to travel to Shimmal?” Ableen asked.

  “I think so. We’re leaving tomorrow, and then it’s a few weeks before we can start the final trip to bring Brik home,” she said.

  “I wish I was coming,” Karo said wistfully, and Ableen frowned at him.

  “No you don’t.”

  “No… I guess I don’t. Tell your father I’ll be sure to visit,” Karo said, moving inside with the bags.

  Ableen glanced at Hugo, and then to Jules. “I’ll give you a minute.” She left them alone, and Hugo glanced up at her glowing eyes, his lip threatening to tremble.

  “Stop it. You’re going to love it here. And you have the Theos kids to get you into all sorts of trouble,” she told him.

  “That’s true. I do like them a lot.”

  Jules hugged her little brother tightly and kissed him on the forehead. He usually complained when she did that and told her she was gross, but he didn’t this time.

  “See you soon, kid,” she told him, but Hugo had already turned, heading inside his hosts’ home.

  Jules walked down the pathway and took the long way around the school. The day wasn’t overly warm, and she was glad to have chosen short sleeves. The school was quiet in the off season, and she found the library entrance without seeing another person.

  She took the elevator below and felt a slight tingle of a thrill as she stepped into the main library concourse. Thousands of physical texts sat on shelves, and Jules had inherited her father’s love for the written word. Even though most of their schoolwork had been done with digital references, she still appreciated the books that Regnig collected over the centuries, and she ran a hand along a stack of Padlog recipe books.

  Little one. I was not expecting you. Regnig’s thoughts entered her mind, and she spun to find the tiny bird man facing her. His claw held a steaming cup of tea, and he motioned for her to follow him with the other. Come. I have more tea in the kitchen.

  They moved to his private chambers, on the hidden side of the library, and Jules felt more at home as they crossed over to the dimly lit section. It always smelled better there, like old books, leather, and wood.

  What brings you here? Regnig asked.

  “I was dropping Hugo off and wanted to see if you were home.” Jules blew on her tea before taking a bitter sip.

  I can’t say I’m unhappy to see you.

  “I asked Papa to persuade you to come with us on Light, but he said you declined the invitation,” she said.

  I didn’t do it to be callous, dear. I need my reference material. I’ve found more out about O’ri, and I’ve noticed a quotation about glowing eyes in three other texts. Bear in mind, these are old books, and the languages are difficult to translate.

  Her pulse quickened. “You think they were like me?”

  I doubt anyone was ever like you, Jules, but yes, I think they perhaps were of the same race.

  Race. She wondered at that. They hadn’t been able to determine if it was an affliction rather than a genetic origin, but there was one person who might have the answer.

  Regnig always knew what she was thinking. Are you prepared to speak with him?

  She shook her head. “Not if there’s a chance he’s this O’ri you told me about. He did awful things to his people, and I can’t risk it.”

  Your father told me you were bringing him with Light. Are we sure this is a wise course of action? Regnig asked.

  “No, but I wanted him close by. What if someone else learned of his existence and stole his pod, or freed him?” Jules didn’t want to think what someone with her powers could accomplish if they used it for evil doings. She thought about her own actions, tearing that ship apart a couple of weeks ago, and blinked away the bad feelings related to that incident.

  I understand the reasoning; just be cautious.

  “I always am,” she assured the little man. “Do you want another blood test?”

  He nodded, his beak opening enough for his little tongue to protrude from it. Yes. Great idea. Can you describe how you’ve been feeling?

  They sat there, and she told him everything, holding nothing back. He was the one person she felt able to share her inner dialogue with, and he always had her best interests at heart. If someone was going to crack the code on what she was, it was Regnig, and that meant revealing the truth about it all.

  She explained what had transpired at their final exam, how she went into a rage and nea
rly tore her father in half along with the spacecraft, and about the graduation night, when her blood had pumped so hard, she couldn’t hear. Regnig made notes like an old-world psychologist. Her mom liked mystery books, and Jules had read a few where the doctor made the patient lie down as they discussed what came to mind. Jules was sitting up, but this felt much the same, with the bird man asking the odd question, never judging, just investigating for the sake of an experiment.

  Is there anything else? His beak opened slowly, his single eyelid closing halfway as if assessing her.

  “No. That’s it,” she told him.

  Okay. I’ll see if there are any references to any of this new information, but it’s not going to be simple. Let’s take a vial of blood, and I’ll compare it with the previous samples. Regnig stood, leading her to the same room she’d seen in her vision when touching the stone on Menocury L05.

  The entire setup was a little archaic to her senses, with bubbling potions like something from a fairy tale, but Regnig claimed the results were notably more accurate this way. Who was she to argue with the old man? He hobbled as he walked, even more than normal, and she saw the small wooden cane leaning against the door.

  “You should be using the cane,” she told him plainly. The nice thing about their relationship was this kind of communication.

  And you should mind your elders, Regnig said, but his slight smile gave him away. He motioned for her to have a seat as the door closed, and he flipped a light on. It was still dark inside the room, with the colorful assortment of tubes and concoctions moving through glass tubes, a vent lifting any fumes from muddling the space.

  The floors were a dark wood, and she stared at them as he pulled the blood from her arm to distract herself. “Where’s your assistant?” Jules asked.

  Regnig held up the vial of blood, gaping through the glass as if he’d be able to spot a secret inside. Yojer has returned home for a while. Judging by his lack of further explanation, he wasn’t pleased by this. Regnig placed a small tool over the puncture on her vein and it closed, appearing like new.