As Daven rambled on, Tiera watched the city give way to its suburbs, made up of scattered crystalline homes that sparkled in the morning sunlight, and the homes were divided more and more by woods the farther out they drove. Tiera even saw a deer at one point, but they were moving so fast it was hard for her to tell how similar it was to the kind she saw in Utah. But just when Tiera was starting to get used to all of the greenery, it stopped as abruptly as an old movie when its reel runs out of film—and everything around their car went just as white as one of those blank and glowing screens.
“Oh my gosh,” Tiera breathed, and even Daven stopped talking long enough to take it all in. Flat sheets of crystal stretched for the horizon, interrupted only by the occasional rocky cluster jutting toward the stainless steel sky. Tiera had learned that Faroa’s crystalline surface made it hard to terraform, but she had never seen it in person. Until now, that is.
The road their car followed, distinguished from its surroundings only by its faint red warning light, began to dip, and soon enough their car passed over the lip of an enormous crater. Tiera could now see a few other almond-shaped cars ahead of their own—though one looked more like a Brazil nut. Is that a truck? They all spiraled down and toward the center of the crater, where a massive stadium of a building stood, its graphite coloring in sharp contrast with its white surroundings. The wormhole generator station.
“That’s the WG station,” Daven said, noting Tiera’s awestruck face with a smile. “Nearly every major city on Faroa has one, but they’re kept outside of city limits for safety reasons.”
“Safety reasons?” Tiera asked, tearing her eyes away from the bulwarks of the round building to look at Daven.
“There hasn’t been an incident in hundreds of thousands of years,” Xana said. “But if a wormhole became unstable it could cause a lot of damage to its surroundings. Like that box thing you told me about on Earth—but bigger.” Tiera figured Xana was talking about the postal box that Kert and Daven’s wormhole had torn apart back in Salt Lake City.
“So why is there a wormhole generator in the Technological University? Isn’t that a safety hazard?” Tiera asked.
“Yes and no,” Daven said. “It could cause some minimal damage if it weren’t maintained properly, but it’s just one person-sized wormhole. WG stations, though, have dozens of travel wormholes, as well as larger wormholes for transporting cargo. If just one of these goes haywire—which doesn’t happen, since everyone’s so careful—then the chain reaction between all of them could be catastrophic.”
“About how often does one ‘go haywire’?” Tiera wasn’t feeling very reassured about the safety of these things.
“Like I said,” Xana cut in, “the last incident was hundreds of thousands of years ago. They’re very safe.”
That sounds like pretty good odds. Tiera tried to convince herself to trust their expertise.
After passing a loading dock where some of those large, truck-like vehicles were hovering, Tiera and Xana were dropped off at the WG station’s main entrance.
“I’ll see you tomorrow! Have fun!” Daven looked so happy for them that Tiera couldn’t help but grin. He’s acting like my mom on my first day of school.
“See ya,” Tiera said, then motioned for the car door to shut itself. The car lifted higher off the ground, then sped away with Daven still waving inside.
“So?” Xana whispered, shooting furtive glances at the other travelers at the car port. “What are you planning?”
“Nothing.” Tiera strode purposefully toward the open gate of the WG station entrance, pulling out her smart glass for the clearance scanner.
“That’s BS,” Xana said, falling in by Tiera’s side. “You can tell me—I won’t stop you.” Xana pulled out her own smart glass and they both passed them over the scanners, which lit up to tell them they could continue. “I—” Xana looked around. “I could even help you,” she hissed.
“Where’s the wormhole to Nov Nasim?” Tiera asked. Just drop it. I don’t want you to get involved.
“Tell me your plan first,” Xana asserted.
“Never mind, I found the sign.” Tiera pointed to the wall, where the words “Nov Nasim” were set over a blue square. On the wall, blue arrows pulsated from the square and down the hallway on their right. Tiera started walking, taking long strides to pass all of the shorter and therefore slower people ahead of her. Xana had to jog to keep up.
“You know I’m going to keep asking you about it. You might as well tell me now—before we’re forced to hang out with your police escort all day.”
Tiera stopped and considered Xana for a moment. She’s right . . . but what do I say? She looked around to make sure nobody was listening, just like Xana had before. “Remember when I told you about what that uninvited guest told me in our apartment that night?” Tiera wasn’t sure how good the surveillance was here, so she figured vague was a good way to go.
Xana got a conspiratorial look on her face, clearly pleased that Tiera was finally talking. “I remember bits and pieces, yeah.”
“Remember what he said about our little vacation? That people would be waiting for the smallest reason to . . . send me somewhere?”
It only took a few seconds before Xana’s eyes lit up with understanding—then fear. “You want that?”
Instead of answering, Tiera just asked another question. “I’m excited to see Parliament live today. About how many people watch the third Tuesday meeting from home, would you say?” She started following the blue arrows toward the Nov Nasim WG again.
“Billions,” Xana said as she walked at Tiera’s side, her wide eyes studying the floor.
Just before they reached their terminal, Tiera thought of one last thing to say while they still had relative privacy. “You know, all this vagueness reminds me that you never explained how you know about the plans to clean up where I’m from.” She hoped Xana would realize she was talking about the government’s plans to wipe out her entire galaxy with black holes, but she figured vagueness was still a smart idea.
“I might never get to explain if you get what you want today,” Xana said as they entered the line to Nov Nasim.
“If I really get what I want today, you can tell me all about it when I take you out to lunch in Salt Lake City.” Tiera turned and gave Xana a sad smile. She wasn’t feeling very optimistic, but what other choice did she have? Please let this work.
It’s not lost yet.
According to the infographic displayed on the wall of the pressurization chamber they had just entered, Tiera and Xana were about to travel over six light years to get to Origin. But as Tiera stepped through the familiar, fluctuating sphere of nothing that was the wormhole, she sure didn’t feel like it. She laughed as soon as Xana appeared behind her.
“What?”
“For a couple seconds we weren’t even in the same solar system. It’s just weird for me to think about,” Tiera explained.
“You get used to it after a while,” Xana said wryly.
By the time they got through another round of clearance scanners and to the exit, Tiera’s police escort showed up: two male officers in purple uniforms with stoic expressions on their faces. Two guys and two girls, huh? If Natalie were here she’d accuse me of being on a double date.
After brief introductions, the officers didn’t seem to want to talk much—in fact, they didn’t seem to want to be there either. Tiera wasn’t sure if it was Earth prejudice or if it was because escort duty was boring, but she tried to think of them as forgivingly as possible as they followed her around for the rest of the day.
According to Parliament’s smart glass interface, the “concerns of the authorized public” would be addressed until 16, and it was already 10:30 when Tiera and her posse left the Nov Nasim WG station. Tiera hadn't decided how much dawdling she wanted to do before heading to the Grand Hall—and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to decide either.
Driving around the capital city was enough to keep her mind off things, however. Fr
om the road, Nov Nasim looked like a giant, super-future version of a wealthy area in southern California—the weather was nice, there were palm trees and other tropical plants everywhere, there was a bay, and its citizens seemed to have more money than they knew what to do with.
Tiera watched from the car as the extravagantly dressed citizens of Origin passed in and out of shops and buildings made of lengthy slabs of polished rock. It’s like contemporary and neo gothic architecture had a fabulous and independent baby. As their car passed the bay, she watched the beach-goers play in the water, though some just lounged around in their strange, airy cloaks. And once they were downtown, Tiera watched businesspeople climbing in and out of colorful cars, going to work in their bronze and glass skyscrapers.
Using all of this sightseeing as an excuse, Tiera procrastinated deciding when to visit Parliament as much as she could. She procrastinated so well, in fact, that she was surprised to see she had successfully wasted three hours as she sat down with Xana at the Burming Circle Café for lunch. (Tiera figured that if she ever did see Daven again, she had better follow at least a few of his suggestions or she’d never hear the end of it.)
After ordering their food, Xana led Tiera and her police escort to a couple of small tables in the back, and Tiera distracted herself by looking around. This is too much. Half of the café they were sitting in was made up of white marble, for goodness’ sake. But even as Tiera rolled her eyes, she still marveled at the beauty and character of the place. Anything was great if it helped Tiera keep her mind off of things.
As she and Xana dug into their salads and tried to ignore the two officers sitting at the marble table adjacent to their own, Tiera noticed a woman with the exact same acorn haircut as Dr. Chis. I guess it’s in style after all, she thought with a mental shrug. The people here seemed to favor longer hairstyles with entire portions buzzed off, so Tiera and Xana’s haircuts had received several judgmental frowns already.
“Tiera?” Xana’s voice jolted Tiera from her thoughts.
“Hm?” was all she managed to say in response, since her mouth was full of salad.
“Do you or don’t you want to see Parliament? We’ve driven around a quarter of the city already, and you only have about two more hours before they stop listening to public concerns.”
“I do! I just—” Tiera tried to look at the officers to their left as nonchalantly as possible, then she messed with her hair so that it blocked her face from their view. “I just don’t want to rush it,” she mumbled, looking down at her salad. And I’m afraid that as soon as I walk into the Grand Hall I’ll have a panic attack and it’ll all be for nothing.
When Xana didn’t respond, Tiera looked up. Xana had the saddest look on her face, and Tiera knew if she wasn’t careful, they’d both be crying in a matter of seconds. “I’ll be fine. I know exactly what I want to do, and with all of those cameras—I mean, it’s a democracy, isn’t it? People are bound to respond.”
“I mean it’s technically a democracy, or a democratic republic, but—” Xana looked at Tiera’s police escort instead of finishing.
“We’ll go after this,” Tiera said.
And, after Tiera poked around her salad for long enough to realize she wasn’t hungry anymore, they finally did. The four of them climbed into a bright red car and sped toward the Grand Hall of the Parliament of Origin faster than Tiera was comfortable with, and not just because she wanted to procrastinate more. This area of the city felt so claustrophobic—the reflective black streets were barely wider than their car, so they hardly squeezed between the towering buildings of the galaxy’s capital. Tiera was just happy the magnet cars drove themselves, otherwise she was sure these streets wouldn’t be nearly as safe.
“Tiera?” Xana gently interrupted Tiera’s thoughts yet again, and Tiera turned from the window to look at her.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t you think it’ll be a little crowded at the Grand Hall?” Xana pointed with her eyes toward the officers in the seats behind them. The one on the right was looking out the window, and the one on the left was staring straight ahead.
Is she worried that these two might stop me? Or is she wondering if I know there will be more cops at the Grand Hall? Tiera faked a casual smile. “I’m sure we can fight our way through and get some good seats.”
“Fighting is illegal, miss,” one of the officers piped in from behind them.
“It’s a figure of speech—isn’t it?” Tiera wasn’t actually sure.
“Not in Nov Nasim it isn’t,” he said flatly.
“Oh. Sorry.” Tiera turned back to Xana, who somehow had managed to look even more worried than before. She shot Xana a cartoonish smile and thankfully Xana caught on, masking her worry with her characteristic look of indifference.
Tiera was about to ask how much farther until they reached the Grand Hall when suddenly she didn’t need to anymore. The buildings around her were abruptly replaced with the undulating water of the bay, and their black ribbon of a road was now a bridge about three or four stories above sea level. This and several other bridges converged on a large, rocky island, standing alone in an inlet that was surrounded by so much land that it looked more like the island had a moat. Most impressive of all, though, was the building that stood on the island.
The Grand Hall of the Parliament of Origin was a gigantic building carved from the same rusty red stone that made up the island it sat on. At its center was a massive, yellow dome of what Xana confirmed was gold, and spreading out in a rectangle were stone walls with such intricate carvings that the closer their car got, the more Tiera could make out: the spirals of galaxies, the points of stars, and the visages of long dead historical figures. Each corner of the rectangular building had a slender, lighthouse-like tower from which gleamed a bright white light—just looking at it Tiera could tell it was made of the same stuff as that red flare she and Natalie had seen that night in Salt Lake.
“We need to get out of the car now, Tiera,” Xana said, nudging Tiera’s arm.
Embarrassed, Tiera followed Xana out. She couldn’t remember how many times Xana had tried to get her to pay attention today. I guess I’d rather think of anything else than what I’m doing today. With Xana leading the way and the two officers following behind her, Tiera climbed the steps and entered the golden doors of the Grand Hall. Anything but this.
As they found their way to the Grand Hall’s audience chamber, It’s not lost yet, echoed through Tiera’s mind and she clung to that thought as hard as she could. It’s up to me. This will work.
Though the audience chamber of the Grand Hall looked like it could seat at least 10,000 people, it wasn’t even half full. Tiera couldn’t help but feel a little disheartened at that—she had been planning on a full house. This isn’t bad though. Besides, they’re broadcasting it throughout the entire galaxy, and that’s the best audience I could hope for. She and Xana passed a purple-clad officer guarding the door and stepped over a silver crest that had been set into the entrance’s stone floor: a large, seven-pointed star with a globe at its center. Tiera knew she had seen it somewhere before, but she wasn’t sure where.
“Where should we sit?” Xana asked, bringing Tiera’s spacey thoughts back to Origin.
“How about by the reserved seating?” Tiera suggested, pointing to the seats she knew were used by the people waiting their turn to address Parliament. Those seats were divided from the others by a thick railing of red marble, and that railing opened directly to a podium, centered so that all of Parliament could see the addressee. The 100 members of Parliament were seated in comfortable-looking armchairs on a wide, 5-high semicircle of risers that faced the audience, and square panels of smart glass were set up on tripods throughout the room, no doubt to provide audio and visual of as much of Parliament as possible. Tiera noted that one was placed directly in front of the speaker at the podium as well, its outline glowing. She guessed it was glowing either to indicate that it was transmitting or to illuminate the speaker. Or both.
As soon as they were seated, Tiera ignored what the current speaker—a dark-haired woman who looked like she might be from Osya—was saying and began to search the chamber for signs of security. They had passed two officers at the entrance to the audience chamber, and she saw that the other entrances had officers posted as well. It was hard to see, since the audience seats were dimly lit, but their dark purple uniforms stood out against the golden yellow walls easily enough.
“So,” Xana whispered from beside her, “when do you want to . . . leave?”
Tiera looked over at the Osyan woman, who was saying something about pirates attacking cargo ships, and at the four people waiting to speak in the sectioned-off box behind her. “Maybe when there are one or two people left to speak?” Tiera tried to breathe as normally as possible, but her pounding heart was making it hard. She was glad she hadn’t finished her salad earlier—otherwise she knew she would have thrown up already.
“Can I help?” Xana spoke so quietly that Tiera almost couldn’t make it out.
No, Tiera thought as hard as she could, but she knew saying it would only hurt Xana’s feelings, and she was too touched anyway. She just didn’t want her friend to get in trouble for her sake, so she reached over and squeezed Xana’s hand instead. “I need to be alone for this part. But maybe you could ask your dad to—uh—give me a ride home later?”
Xana gave Tiera a resolute nod, then squeezed back. Tiera held onto Xana’s hand as she counted six more police officers: one at the far end of the speakers’ box, two each on the sides of Parliament’s semicircle, and one guarding the back exit to the left of the risers. Still holding Xana’s hand, Tiera psyched herself up when she realized the Osyan woman was finishing her address, but decided to wait until after the next speaker at the last minute. Her stomach was doing somersaults as she did this two more times. Now she only had one chance—she had to jump in before the last speaker.
As soon as the second-to-last speaker had said his closing “thank you,” Tiera stood up, adrenaline pulsing through her veins, and ran past the few people that separated her from the end of her row of seats.
Tiera's Earth (Andromeda 9 Book 1) Page 18