Bonds of Resolve (Cadicle #3): An Epic Space Opera Series

by Amy DuBoff

  “It’s a serious problem,” Wil said. The grim expressions on the faces of the village council had his stomach in a knot. Never before had he seen such desperation and defeat.

  “Now that you understand our situation, what do you suggest?” Marlon asked. “We reached out to Makaris for aid, and the TSS responded. We can’t withstand more raids from the other villages.”

  “The villages aren’t the problem. It’s Makaris. You’ve only confirmed what Mila already told me,” Wil replied.

  Marlon frowned. “But Makaris is who sent you.”

  “Then Akka is up to something.” What’s his aim?

  “So what do we do? They give us everything we need to survive.” Marlon and the other leaders had their full attention on Wil.

  “We have to show Makaris you won’t let them push you around any longer.” Under any other circumstances, Wil would have reported the issues to the oversight committee within the Priesthood. But this was his internship; the mission parameters were clear. He was tasked with resolving the conflict, and that was exactly what he was going to do. He needed to equip the people of Orino to take control of their own well-being. Reporting Akka to the Priesthood would be a short-term solution, but Orino as a whole needed to be unified as a people. There was no better way to bring them together than to unite against a common enemy.

  “We have no way to stand up to them,” Olan, the eldest member of the leadership council, said.

  “You have numbers and you have heart,” Wil pointed out. “But, we need to work with the other villages. We can’t do anything alone.”

  Olan scoffed, tossing the white mane of his hair around his shoulders. “They want nothing to do with us. Nor us with them.”

  “And that’s how Akka has gotten away with what he’s done,” Wil continued. “You’re too busy fighting each other to notice what he’s doing.”

  Marlon nodded. “You speak the truth. We’ve been so preoccupied with our day-to-day conflicts we have lost sight of the root of our troubles.”

  “No one from the other villages will trust our intentions,” Olan protested.

  Wil looked the old man in the eye. “They’ll listen to me.”

  “Maybe,” Olan conceded, “but it’ll take months to track down everyone.”

  “What do you mean?” Wil asked.

  “The villages drift. They could be anywhere,” Olan clarified.

  Wil’s brow furrowed. “Can’t you just ask them for a GPS reading on the comm?”

  The elders looked at each other. “We live a simple life here without such technology. If we wish to communicate or trade with another village, we sail on the wind until we find one.”

  When the mission brief said they were primitive, I thought they’d at least have a radio… “There’s really no other way?”

  Marlon shook his head.

  Wil held in a groan. “Then I guess we set sail.”

  “You’ll need guides,” Olan said.

  “Take my son Tiro,” a man named Ricon offered. “He’s a fine sailor and can read the winds.”

  “I will go, as well,” Petre, the youngest man on the council, chimed in. “We will need a representative from our village leadership.” His brown shoulder-length hair was pulled into a ponytail, and amber eyes stood out under a heavy brow.

  Marlon nodded. “Very good. The three of you will be able to man a boat.”

  I guess I’m learning how to sail. “Can we leave in the morning?”

  Olan rose. “Yes, we will gather what provisions we can spare for your journey. You should head north first, to find the Northern Seafarers. If you gain their support, the others will follow.”

  Wil stood and inclined his head to Olan and then to Marlon. “I will do my best.”

  “The winds are best at dawn. We will see you off at sunrise. Get some sleep,” Marlon said, inclining his head to Wil. “Now, find Tiro. We must finalize arrangements.” He turned his attention to the rest of the council.

  “Good night,” Wil said and exited the circle as the leaders began to discuss the supply needs.

  Wil swung open the door to the hall and sighed as he closed it behind him. Sailing aimlessly around the world. This’ll be something.

  Mila was leaning against the rusted metal wall outside the door. She took an eager step forward when she saw Wil. “What did they say?”

  “We’re going after Makaris. Now we just need to get the other villages onboard.”

  She grinned. “When do you leave?”

  “First thing in the morning.”

  “Alone?”

  Wil shook his head. “Petre and Ricon’s son are coming with me.”

  Mila’s eyes widened. “Tiro is going?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  Mila motioned for Wil to follow her, and she took off down the grated walkway. She yanked open a door to a storage room and stepped inside.

  Not again. Wil reluctantly followed her inside. “What are we doing in here?”

  Mila closed the door. It was complete darkness. Wil pulled out his handled to light the three meter square room.

  “I’m going with you.”

  Wil crossed his arms. “You’re not really in a position to make that kind of demand. This is an official diplomatic engagement.”

  “It’s my only chance to be with Tiro.”

  Wil thought for a moment. “Is he the guy you mentioned?”

  “Yes, and the council has plans to pair him with Celine,” Mila said with a scowl. “But if we got married in another village, my father couldn’t stop it.”

  “Mila, I don’t want to get in the middle of your customs. If your father doesn’t want you with Tiro, it’s not my place to help you cross him.”

  “Then I promise we won’t get married. Just let me spend some time with him,” she pleaded. “Maybe if Petre sees us together, he can convince the council that we’re a good match.”

  “If you can convince your father to let you go, then you can come along,” Wil yielded.

  Mila nodded. “I’ll be a good soldier for you.”

  “Hopefully it won’t come to a fight. We just want to get Orino back from Akka’s control.”

  “And all I want is justice,” Mila said, the fire Wil had glimpsed earlier returning to her eyes. “I’ll go talk to my father.”

  Wil opened the door to outside. “Good luck.”

  Mila smiled. “I don’t need it.”

  I have no doubt she can get her way. It was going to be a long trip.

  * * *

  Saera barely heard a word Agent Katz had said during the lecture. Wil was somewhere on the other side of the galaxy. She could feel the bond between them and knew he was okay, but it felt like part of herself was missing. What’s he doing? Who’s he with?

  “What’s your opinion, Saera?” Agent Katz asked.

  Saera froze. Shit! What were we talking about? She looked around the class; all eyes were on her. “I think…”

  A voice came into her head. “As long as those with telekinetic abilities are treated like outcasts, Tararia and the colony worlds will remain divided.” Maybe someone was giving her a hint?

  “There’s always going to be a divide between the different Taran worlds if those with telekinetic abilities and everyone else can’t get along,” Saera stated aloud.

  Katz nodded. “Leila, you’re from the inner colonies. What do you think?”

  “I was going to say the same thing,” Leila said, glaring at Saera.

  The help definitely wasn’t from her. Saera slouched in her chair.

  “It makes you wonder,” Katz said. “Someone from Earth—outside of the Taran governance—and someone from the inner colonies saying the same thing. Could the Taran worlds be on the verge of a perspective change?”

  “It’s already changing,” Caryn chimed in. “By the time I was leaving to join the TSS, I was seeing active recruitment ads. As a little kid on Aeris, no one even wanted to mention the TSS in public.”

  “So what’s different now?�
�� asked Katz.

  They’re gearing up for something—whatever it is they want Wil to command, Saera realized. She kept her head down.

  “We can do things that others can’t,” Leila stated. “Everyone can’t continue to deny the benefits of our gifts.”

  “Now, that notion of ‘gifts’ is interesting,” Katz said, pacing at the front of the room. “It’s a ubiquitous term, but telekinesis is outlawed. ‘Gift’ hardly seems like the right term for something that’s so feared.” Katz checked the time. “But, that will have to be a topic for future discussion. Have a good evening, ladies.”

  Saera grabbed her tablet and exited the classroom. The end of the day was always the loneliest time, since it was historically her twice-weekly training time with Wil.

  As she walked down the hall with her classmates, Saera thought she heard the echo of voices. When she looked around, no one was speaking aloud. I need to get some quality sleep tonight. I’m losing it.

  They reached their quarters and filed into the main living room. It was quiet; the Sacon girls weren’t back yet.

  The echo of voices filled Saera’s head again, accompanied by an oppressive buzz. “Do you hear—?” She pressed her hand to her temple.

  “Are you okay?” Elise asked.

  The buzz crescendoed, blocking out the swirling voices. It burned her ears. Saera collapsed to the floor, gripping her head. Pressure crushed the back of her eyes. She felt a warm trickle down her lip and tasted iron. The buzz and voices overwhelmed her. There was no escape. The blackness closed in.

  *

  Faint light filtered through Saera’s eyelids. She was laying on something soft, propped upright. Cautiously, she opened her eyes.

  Medical monitoring equipment surrounded her. She was alone in a small room with light gray walls. Voices were coming from the hall, indistinct.

  “She’s awake,” someone said.

  An older woman with strawberry-blonde hair and tinted glasses entered the room. She was wearing a white uniform and walked with authority. “How are you feeling?”

  “What happened?” Saera asked, sitting up straighter in the bed.

  “You just experienced a sudden Awakening,” the doctor explained. “Only ten percent of people have their abilities activate in rapid succession like that. If you’re not physically ready for it, it can be pretty traumatic.”

  So my abilities have finally emerged? Of course, right after Wil goes and can’t work with me. Saera thought for the moment. “I don’t hear the voices anymore.”

  The doctor nodded. “We have a telepathic bubble set up around you right now. It will diminish gradually so you have time to acclimate.”

  Saera let out a slow breath. “How long will that take?”

  “We like to give it two days in these cases,” the doctor replied. “The field encompasses the entire room, so feel free to get up and move around.”

  “Okay.” I’m stuck here for two days? What will everyone think?

  “Are visitors allowed, Irina?” Cris Sights stood in the doorway.

  Startled, the doctor turned around. “What are you doing here?”

  Cris smiled. “A new Trainee has just Awakened. That’s worth a visit.”

  The doctor looked over at Saera. “Fine, but keep it quick. The net is fragile.” She left them alone.

  Saera tensed as Cris entered. “Sir, you didn’t need to come see me.”

  “I’m not here in an official capacity,” Cris said as he sat down in the guest chair next to her bed.

  “Then why?”

  “Because I promised Wil I’d look after you while he’s away.”

  Saera looked down.

  “And I’m very happy to welcome you into the family,” Cris continued. “I apologize in advance for the crazy drama.”

  Saera relaxed. “Your family can’t be any crazier than mine.”

  “You might be surprised.”

  Saera smiled. “Well, I guess we’ll see.”

  Without warning, she felt the pressure in her head again. She pressed her temples with her hands and the pressure receded.

  Cris noticed her pain and stood. “I won’t keep you. I know you’re acclimating.”

  Saera looked up at him. “Did this happen because of my bond with Wil?”

  “Possibly. Everything with him is uncharted territory.”

  Saera’s throat tightened. “I wish he were here.”

  Cris placed a reassuring hand on her back. “The time will fly by.” He took a step toward the door. “Rest up. You’ll have to make up for the missed class when you’re better.”

  Saera frowned. That’s not fair.

  “I’m kidding! Enjoy the break,” Cris said with a playful smile.

  Saera smiled back. “Thanks.”

  * * *

  Haersen stepped off the transport to the surface of Grolen. It was a plain world, flat and lacking any interesting focal points. The transport station was at the outskirts of what residents of the outer colonies would consider a city, but it was a pathetic collection of buildings from Haersen’s perspective.

  He looked around with disgust. Such a miserable existence.

  Yet, the refugees from Aleda smiled as they saw the new world. They looked upon the open fields and saw land for cultivation. To them, the city offered a connection with the other colonies—a chance to get their favorite fruit as a rare treat. Their life was simple, but they could live it the way they wanted.

  Haersen trudged toward the city, ignoring the others from the transport. He could never share in their joy over such a planet.

  Fortunately, he wouldn’t have to. The planet was just a stopover, a suitable sacrifice toward what he really wanted. All he had to do was disable the planetary shield. Then the Bakzen would come for him.

  * * *

  Wil felt stiff and sore after a night on the thin mattress of his cot. Even so, it was a night in civilization compared to what was coming.

  He grabbed his bag and headed toward the main dock where he’d arrived. The sun was just peaking over the horizon, and the pink-tinted sky was dotted with wispy clouds.

  A twelve-meter-long boat was moored to the foot of the dock, and Petre was loading on supplies with another man. At the center of the boat, a six-meter-tall mast supported a main square sail and two stabilizing secondary triangular sails to either side.

  The two men looked up as Wil approached.

  “Good morning!” Petre called out. “Are you ready to set sail?”

  “Can’t wait,” Wil replied with a somewhat forced smile. Where’s Mila?

  “This is Tiro, Ricon’s son,” Petre said, pointing to the other man.

  Tiro gave a single nod to Wil. He looked to be a couple of years older than Wil, and his skin was well tanned from a life of labor outdoors. The bottom portion of his hair was shaved, and the chin-length upper portion was pulled into a ponytail.

  Wil hopped over the chain railing around the dock onto the deck of the sailboat. The craft hardly seemed seaworthy—its deck plates pitted with rusted holes. But, Wil knew his perspective was skewed after a life surrounded by high technology. There would be no polished chrome or touchscreens in any villages.

  “What can I do to help?” Wil asked.

  “We’ve got a handle on the supplies,” Petre said. “Get yourself settled in below deck. You get first pick of the hammocks.”

  “Thanks.” Wil took his bag and headed for the hatch into the heart of the boat. There were no lights inside, so he could only see a short ladder descending to a metal grated floor two meters below.

  He climbed down the ladder and gave his eyes a minute to adjust. There were shelves along the side walls, stacked with crates like those Petre and Tiro were piling on the main deck. At the aft of the boat, five hammocks were strung between support beams. Wil frowned at the tattered cloth when he saw it, but then, upon further reflection, realized that the hammock would likely be more comfortable than his cot from the previous night. People live with a lot worse. I can cope.
He set down his bag next to the hammock at the back left.

  Shouts sounded outside. Startled, Wil dashed up the ladder. He popped his head out of the hatch. On the deck of the boat, Tiro’s and Petre’s mouths were hanging open while Mila yelled at her father on the dock.

  “You gave me away, so I’m leaving!” Mila shouted.

  I didn’t think she’d make a scene! Wil ducked back into the hatch, staying just high enough so he could watch the altercation.

  “Mila, there’s no place for you on their voyage. Quiet down,” Marlon hissed.

  “No! I’m his. He needs me.” Mila spotted the top of Wil’s head and beckoned to him. “Tell him!”

  Shite! I don’t want to be in the middle of this. Wil wished he’d just stayed hidden so they could work it out on their own. But, since Mila had seen him, he couldn’t leave her hanging. Wil finished his climb up the ladder. “She’s free to do as she likes. If she wants to come, she may.”

  Tiro flashed Wil a glare of seething jealousy, but was quick to hide it.

  “See?” Mila said to Marlon.

  Marlon scowled and looked Wil over. “I never intended for either of you to leave the village.”

  “It’s what the mission calls for,” Wil replied. “Without a radio, this is the only way.”

  Marlon sighed. “I wish your mother were here to talk you out of it,” he said to his daughter.

  Mila stared her father in the eye. “It’s because she’s not that I need to do this. I need to make things right.”

  After ten seconds of quiet contemplation, Marlon nodded. “Look after her,” he said, looking first to Petre and then to Wil.

  “Are you sure about this?” Petre asked to no one in particular.

  “I’m coming,” Mila insisted and tossed a small travel bundle onto the deck of the ship. She hopped over the railing.

  Tiro stood tense as Mila strode past him without so much as a glance. He shot Wil another glare of more concealed jealousy.

  Petre swallowed hard and grabbed the last crate off the dock. “When we return, everything will be right again,” he said to Marlon.

  Marlon bowed his head. “May the winds be always at your back.”

  “Ready the main sail!” Petre instructed Tiro.