He could have scored a few points on her, but for now he held back. Better to let her grow addicted to the confidence and sense of power that came from being in total control of her body and its motions. Harder lessons would come in due time.
Finally he dropped his hands to his knees, bent over and exhaled harshly. “Enough. You’re wearing me out.”
“You are so full of it.”
“No, no. You’ve reminded me of how out of practice I am.” He straightened up and dragged a hand through damp hair grown curly since coming outside this morning. The literal storm that had consumed both Akeso and him during their Namino trial may have passed, but the humidity from days of torrential downpours lingered. He went over to a shady spot and retrieved a water bottle from where he’d left it, turning it up for a gulp before offering it to her.
“Next lesson: transforming those sharp reflexes into a weapon using a perfect and constant awareness of your environment.”
She waited to groan until after she’d emptied the water bottle. “When you say ‘constant,’ you mean constantly during a fight, don’t you?”
“You never know when you’re going to find yourself in a fight. Constant means constant.” He took the empty water bottle from her, crouched and opened up the bag he’d brought outside. He produced a Daemon and tossed it to her, then lugged out a netted bundle of syncrosse balls. They were practice balls, made of a tough rubber instead of metal, but they packed a punch.
She regarded the bundle suspiciously while switching the Daemon from one hand to the other.
“Are you ready?”
“Dare I ask for what?”
He chuckled as he activated his plasma blade and sliced open the mesh restraining the balls. They floated up then shot in every direction, darting around like batted ping-pong balls in the air above them. “Shoot them. As fast as you can.”
Her expression puckered up, and she raised the Daemon with both hands and fired. Ten meters away, shards of rubber went flying into the creek. Instantly she swung the Daemon to the left and fired again.
Pride swelled in his chest, for she was a naturally excellent shot. The Daemon whipped to the right and she fired—
—one of the balls smacked her between the shoulder blades, and the Daemon tumbled from her hands to the grass. “Ow!”
“Hence the lesson: always, always, always be aware of your surroundings. You can’t forget what’s happening around you. Know where your threats are and where they’re going, the location of objects you can conscript as weapons and, most importantly….”
The sound of new movement behind him overrode the discordant symphony of his pulse, and he spun around, both blades raised—and jerked his arms to a stop with the blades less than ten centimeters from each side of Alex’s neck.
He suppressed a shudder. So foolish of him to have forgotten his own lesson. Granted, half of his consciousness, half of his very soul, had been cleaved away and walled up out of his reach, by his own choice. He’d deemed it necessary at the time, but now he was on a mission to ensure he never need do so again. Never. The price was too high.
“Keep track of everything that is moving on the field of play: friend or foe, innocent or antagonist.”
Marlee twisted an arm around and rubbed gingerly at her back where the rubber ball had impacted. “But how am I supposed to keep my focus on my target and on every other moving object?”
“Lots and lot of practice.”
She made a face, looking so like her mother did when challenged. But she retrieved the Daemon from the grass, gripped it in both hands with renewed determination and sighted down on another of the balls still whizzing through the air. It split in half from a point-blank hit. She jerked a nod to herself and quickly chose the next target, then disposed of it.
He followed her body language as she pivoted. She was telegraphing her moves, but not too badly, and they could work on it. His senses prickled the instant she zeroed in on a jittering ball almost thirty meters away and fired. The laser missed by half a centimeter, instead slicing into a tree limb overhanging the creek.
Oh! Shock. Loss. Self shorn away.
Caleb flinched, stunned by the jolt of…not pain, not exactly. An injurious assault. He forced himself to inhale through his nose and let the wave of trauma pass over him and fade away.
“I’m sorry, Akeso!” Marlee’s gaze swung from the broken limb to him, mouth agape in horror. “And you? Did I hurt you, too?”
“It’s okay. I expected this to happen. You’re a good shot, but you’re not that good. Not yet.”
Her chin notched upward. “I will be.”
“I believe you.”
In truth, he’d done more than expected this to happen—he’d intended for it to do so. These lessons weren’t solely for Marlee. Through them, he hoped to teach Akeso as well. About how there was nothing inherently evil in defending oneself, and how it was important to do so, lest people you cared for get hurt due to your inaction. This was about getting Akeso comfortable with action, even with violence, when framed by the proper mindset. If a little nick of the flesh was necessary for Akeso to begin to fully appreciate and internalize the lessons, so be it.
He took the Daemon from Marlee, set it on the ground and grasped both of her hands in his. “Watch this.” He closed his eyes and inhaled, then opened one eye to find her staring at him. “Not me—watch the tree where you shot it.”
“Oh.” She chewed on her bottom lip and shifted her attention to the broken limb overhead.
He closed his eyes once more and breathed in fully. I am the nourishing water pouring out from the creek and swirling through the roots beneath the soil, flowing up the trunk and out into the limb until I reach the point of injury.
Replace. Renew. Replenish.
In his mind, a fresh limb sprouted from the shorn stub, extending and growing. Buds became shoots became unfurling leaves that greedily drew in the sun’s nourishing rays. I am the rays and the stomata in the leaves, the strengthening limb growing hardier as water flows along my ravenous pathways.
Marlee gasped in delight, and he peered upward to see the limb fully regrown and in bloom with a sprinkling of tiny white flowers.
“Amazing! I’ve never seen the planet grow something so fast. I didn’t know you could do that.”
“It’s mostly Akeso. I’m just an…active spectator.” It wasn’t quite true, or not quite true any longer. Before Namino, he’d not been able to take such an active hand in guiding Akeso’s cycle of life. Of renewal. But things were different now, for both of them. While he was teaching Akeso to make peace with the necessity of violence in defense of the living, Akeso was teaching him how to strengthen the force and power of life itself. Maybe? He hoped they were both learning the right lessons.
He lingered in the moment as a tingling sensation spread through his chest and out to his extremities. It felt as if he’d been reborn, as surely as the tree’s wound had healed itself in a surge of élan vital. Akeso’s feedback loop, whether it coursed with the pain of loss or the joy of replenishment, really was something to behold. Even more so to experience.
But the real world waited on him, so he shook off the spell. He smiled, picked up the Daemon and returned it to her, then gestured toward the sky. “There are still seven balls in the air.”
2
* * *
AKESO
David Solovy removed the last batch of blueberry pancakes from the stovetop skillet and piled them high atop an overflowing platter. He stepped back and studied the stack critically, then nodded in satisfaction. “Skazochnaya!”
Alex appeared in the kitchen to nudge her father playfully in the side. “I think we’ll be the judge of that.” She stole the platter from him and whisked it away to the dining table, where she set it next to a bowl of yet more fresh blueberries and sliced bananas.
David gestured toward the open front door as he joined Miriam at the table. “Should we tell them breakfast is ready?”
Alex grabbed a glas
s of mango juice from the counter before taking her seat at the table opposite her father. “Marlee’s been looking forward to this training session ever since we got back from Namino. Honestly, so has Caleb. We won’t be able to get them inside anytime soon. I’ll save some leftovers for them.”
“What if there aren’t any leftovers?”
“Dad, this has got to be a kilo’s worth of pancakes, and only three of us are eating. There had better be leftovers.”
Her mother huffed a breath. “I thought you understood your father’s relationship with blueberries.”
“And with pancakes, apparently.” Alex rolled her eyes in amusement as she motioned to Valkyrie, who was wandering amorphously along the front windows, and patted the chair next to her. “I know you’re not here to eat, but you can sit and relax with us.”
“Oh, certainly!” Valkyrie maneuvered the chair out from the table and arranged her virtual avatar into a sitting position. “It smells delightful. I am regretting not bringing my doll for the occasion—an error I will not repeat next time.”
Valkyrie’s physical body didn’t actually digest food or use it as fuel, but the state-of-the-art model included simulated taste buds and a receptacle to store ingested food, among other features. The better to not be utterly bored at the dinner parties she was always being invited to attend.
Alex gathered a chunk of moist, steaming pancake high on her fork and bit into it, then moaned in delight. Her father had been crafting the most scrumptious pancakes ever since she was old enough to eat them, and his culinary skills remained as sharp as ever. “Delicious as always, Dad.”
“Skazochnaya, even?”
“Skazochnaya.” It came out sounding like ‘scho-zho-cthunah’ on account of her mouth being full.
“Thank you, thank you, milaya. So, what is the latest word from the Dominion?”
She washed the gooey pancakes and blueberries down with her juice. “The Kats are getting ready to deliver a Rift Bubble for the final Axis World, Ebisu, after which I think everyone there will let out a huge sigh of relief. No new sightings of the Rasu so far. I assume they’re regrouping and trying to devise a new strategy before resuming harassing the Asterions at every turn.”
“At which point we’ll devise a clever new strategy to counter them again. What about Namino?”
Hearing the name spoken aloud sent a shiver through her bones. Though it had ended in victory and happy reunions, most of her short time there had been an ugly, dark trial. Except for the one rapturous interlude, of course. “Cleaned out of Rasu, but it’s devastated. I don’t know what the Asterions are going to do as far as rebuilding it. I’m not sure they know yet, either.”
Miriam shook her head and paused her fork halfway to her mouth. “If they have any sense, which they seem to, right now they need to be pouring all their funds and efforts into strengthening their military and planetary defenses with weapons and tools that aren’t gimmicks.”
Alex frowned. “The Rift Bubble isn’t a gimmick. It saved the lives of thousands of people on Namino, including three people currently here on Akeso.”
“I realize that. Believe me, I appreciate the power of the technology, and I’m glad the Kats have finally stepped up to pull their weight in this conflict. But the Asterions need to develop and implement a contingency plan for when a Rift Bubble fails. We all do.”
“I understand how the devices work. Remember, I built the Dimensional Rifter out of the Kat code. They won’t fail.”
“Then the Rasu will find another way through. It’s what they do.” A dark shadow swept through her mother’s eyes…she blinked and set her fork down. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to dampen the mood. It’s a beautiful morning, and we’re having a wonderful, hand-crafted meal around the table. Most of all, our family is alive, in good health and home safely.”
“Yes, we are.” David reached out and squeezed Miriam’s hand. “But we also all want to stay this way, so your point is well made.”
While she ate, Alex surreptitiously studied her mother’s outward demeanor, searching for clues as to her state of mind. The rousing success against the Rasu at Namino the second time around had done her mother a lot of good. But there were still moments when a flash of panic crossed her features, as if fear was reaching out from the shadowy, unconscious depths to try to drag her away into the maw. Moments when she looked lost, struggling to produce a word or a memory, as if she unexpectedly found herself situated outside of this place and time, trapped in the limbo between life and death.
Regenesis was a genuine miracle, but it was also a complicated one.
The silence around the table lingered a beat too long, and Alex directed her attention to Valkyrie. “What did the Ruda say when you went to visit them?” In reality she could reach out with her mind and simply know all the details, but she knew it made Valkyrie feel more real to converse aloud, especially when she had an audience.
Tiny points of honeyed light rippled over Valkyrie’s projected skin. “Unfortunately, nothing worthwhile. In fairness, we ought not to have expected anything else. They’ve claimed every centimeter of their planet and maintain a precariously balanced division of power based on the equality of their geography. Should one of them start morphing and changing shape and moving, it would provoke a planet-wide societal crisis. Nevertheless, they were most curious about the reason for my inquiry and expressed great interest in assisting us with whatever endeavor we were pursuing.”
“Oh, I just bet they did.”
“As an ally of Concord, the Ruda do not exist in isolation. It is reasonable to assume that they will hear of the Rasu sooner or later. Perhaps it would be better if we guide the narrative by providing the information to them on our terms.”
Alex grumbled under her breath. “Mom, what do you think?”
“I think Valkyrie is probably correct. The Ruda are not a Protected Species, thus we have no obligation to attempt to protect them. From a military attack, yes, but not from information or current events.”
“And what if we’re protecting ourselves? Remember, the first thing the Ruda tried to do when we met them—or the second or third thing anyway—was kill Caleb and me.” She waved off Valkyrie’s burgeoning protest. “Yes, yes, it was a misunderstanding, whatever. I was the one with a blade at my throat, and I’m merely saying we need to be careful—”
A heartbeat not her own jolted in surprise and sudden anguish, and Alex jerked involuntarily. The next instant she leapt up and hurried to the front door and out onto the porch.
Near the creek, Caleb approached Marlee with his arms extended, taking a Daemon from her and setting it on the ground. When he stood once more, he grasped Marlee’s hands in his. As he did, his heartbeat gradually eased back into its normal rhythm, and the faint sensation of anguish faded into a controlled calmness.
Her own distress took an additional second or two to fade away. With the passing of Akeso’s storm, so too had the more visceral aspects of her connection to Caleb quieted. But though it had now been almost two weeks since she’d sought Akeso’s help in reaching him on Namino, the fundamental link created between her and Caleb, with Akeso as the bridge, hadn’t vanished. In the silence, she could still hear his heartbeat. And when it spiked like it had a minute ago, she could hear it even through the noise.
A permanent gift from Akeso? It was too soon to put her weight down and rely upon it, but she deeply hoped so, for it was already precious to her.
“Alex?”
Her mother’s questioning voice broke through her reverie. After a last check of the goings-on across the meadow to confirm the crisis had passed, she returned to the table and refilled her plate from the rapidly dwindling stack of pancakes. There really might not be any leftovers. “Everything’s fine. I just thought I heard something.”
Miriam cast a too-knowing glance at the open front door. “How is he doing?”
“He insists that his and Akeso’s evolving relationship is very much a work in progress, but he’s…bette
r. A lot better.” And he truly was, but the details were not appropriate breakfast table conversation, so she changed the subject. “Oh, by the way, I invited Richard and Will to come over for breakfast as well, but Richard said they had a prior engagement.”
Her parents exchanged a weighty gaze, and her father followed it up with a dramatic sigh. “It might technically be true, but I’m afraid Richard isn’t interested in spending any time in the same room with me at present.”
Her jaw practically hit the table. Richard had been her father’s best friend since before she was born—since before her parents met—and upon her father’s return, after a few minor stumbles, they’d picked right back up where they’d left off. “What? Did you two have a fight? Has that ever happened before?”
“Yes, it has, though I can’t recall one that was so troubling and lingered so long as this one. Truthfully, it was less of a fight and more me blundering into infuriating him. Also violating several of his most basic moral precepts and insulting his official authority.”
“Damn. Is this your opinion of what happened, or his?”
“It obviously wasn’t what I intended, but in retrospect I find I can’t argue much with his position.”
She glanced at her mother, who offered only a tiny shrug in response. She must be stuck playing mediator. “I can’t even conceive of what such a fight would have looked like.”
“It wasn’t pretty.” Her father appeared genuinely chagrined, bordering on crestfallen. “Before you ask, I have apologized, explained myself, conveyed my deepest and most heartfelt raskayaniye, and apologized again.”
“And none of that worked? He hasn’t forgiven you?”
“Not yet.”
3
* * *
SENECA
Senecan Federation
Milky Way Galaxy
Echo Rift Page 3