by Kurt Johnson
“Purps,” Jenna said, smoothing her hair and pointing at my sandwich with a hand. “It must be hard for your parents. Cooking different foods for you, especially when it’s like that. I don’t know how Cri puts up with it,” she muttered, looking away.
My cheeks flushed hot. I hated being called that. Dad usually packs great lunches. “We…,” I began.
“…Will begin,” said Nonch as he placed his blade arms gently on the table in front of Jenna and me, his razor-sharp blade making a soft tack as it touched the table’s surface. I looked down, trying to get hold of my embarrassment and wounded pride. Nonch continued. “Raystar and I went to the library. It seems the Jurisdictor was correct about your parents’ importance, Mieant Asrigard.”
Mieant’s frown deepened as he played with his water glass.
Jenna looked from Mieant to Nonch. “I don’t understand.”
“It must be hard for your friends to have to constantly explain things,” I blurted, my face warm with anger. Jenna sat up straight, her mouth in an “O.” Her eyebrows came together as she turned hard to me.
“Wait. Wait!” Mieant put his hands up to both of us. His gesture agitated the ’natch stench back into the air and I grimaced, wondering if my parents had been making different food just for me all these years. “It’s no secret. Anyone who cared to search would know that my parents are in the government.” He looked down. “And they run this Quadrant.”
Jenna turned and grabbed him with all four hands. Her beads clinked. “NOVA! Ohhh my Architect! I knew there was something different about you!” Her voice rose as she hugged him. With two hands framing his shoulders and two more around his face, she looked like she was going to pull him in for a kiss.
“I…there is nothing different about me,” he sputtered, plucking her hands off him one by one and tilting his head at an angle away from her lips. “And I didn’t sit with you because we’re friends!”
“Is that Human food I smell?”
We turned to face T’jarl and Fell, the boys who were with Mieant on the first day of school, plus another boy I’d met only once before.
“Darien,” Mieant said to the boy who’d asked the question, rising fluidly. Darien had a huge chin, typical black Lethian eyes, and large ears, giving his head an oversized appearance. “Ease your adrenaline,” Mieant continued.
“You, Mieant? Sitting with my Jenna? And the Human?” Darien looked at Jenna appraisingly and winked, and then he took in the rest of us. Jenna sprang away from Mieant, and Mieant’s scowl, which I’d most likely started by dropping my sandwich, blossomed into full-blown anger. I was grateful he wasn’t directing it at me.
“OK…” I rose and lifted my hands, palms out. My life is a stream of interruptions. The dim hope that dropping my ‘natch sandwich was the worst thing that could happen to me today, poofed away as I registered the premeditation in the boys’ eyes. This was a setup. Behind me, Jenna stood and scooched away from the table. Nonch uncoiled and began swaying slightly as he took us all in.
“Why—you like this creature?” Darien spat at Mieant while pointing at me. He stared at each of my friends in turn before shoving Mieant’s shoulder.
Mieant returned the push, and Darien stumbled. “I was talking with her abou—” He snapped his mouth shut as he reached the same conclusion I had. This was a setup.
“You eat with this beast,” Darien said before turning his scowl to Nonch. He stuck his chin out and jeered, “Crynit. Is a Human the only friend you can find?”
Meanwhile, Fell turned a haughty expression to Jenna, looked her up and down, and laughed, “And you? I thought Darien was your premate?”
I rolled my eyes.
Jenna began edging away from us and toward Darien. “I’m ONLY friends with her sister. Raystar is crushing on Mieant. It’s a disgusting thought.” She turned a speculative gaze at me and sniffed, “He’s so out of your league.”
What?
Nonch tilted his head toward Jenna before refocusing on the Lethians, his arm claws slightly spread. Like Lethians, Crynits don’t have pupils, but they do have a center of focus. With large orange upper eyes, four smaller black eyes, and mandibles as large as my forearms, they had as close to 360-degree vision as you could get. When all that is pointed at you? You felt their attention.
In contrast to my friend, the Lethian boys looked like wispy clones of one another—white hair, giant black eyes, downward-turned smiles, and even the same navy blue jumpsuits. T’jarl took note of Nonch’s pose and took a half step back.
Fell fixated his strange, pupil-less glare on me. I could only imagine the legends created by early encounters between my ancestors and Lethians. While they weren’t as big as a Glean, they stood taller. They weren’t skinny, precisely. More like sinewy and lanky.
Our increasingly loud conversation was attracting the attention of our bored fellow lunchmates. A few had risen and were eating their meals standing up while watching us.
Darien looked at Jenna, laughed, and turned back to Mieant. “So you want to play with these others?” He waved vaguely at Nonch and me. “Is that why your family’s not on Solium4?”
“Do not ever talk about my family, Darien.” Mieant’s scowl transformed from a thunderstorm to something much more menacing. His long, grey fingers curled into fists. “You know nothing.”
I picked up my soggy ’natch sandwich. It felt more like a bag of lumpy pasta than a nutritious meal. Right now, at least, lunch was the most important meal of the day. I took a bite.
“OK. C’mon, guys, let’s move,” I said to Nonch and Mieant, spitting flecks of green with my consonants. I nodded as ’natch juice plopped to the floor by Darien’s feet. “Just want to finish my lunch....”
Oh. I might have added, “…Away from you jerks.”
Darien narrowed his eyes as he moved to block me. He leaned his big head in and croaked, “What did you say?”
I looked up at him. His obsidian eyes glared at me from a half a meter above my head, which goes to show either how short I am or how tall he is. I was looking up at his chin. His navy blue jumpsuit ended at his collarbones, and in the moment, I could see a vein pulse under his grey skin. As he turned his head down, I smelled the sweet caramel breath of a predator. I frowned, contemplating which smelled worse—predators, or people who’d just eaten ’natch. But he didn’t know I was weighing different types of bad breath, and I wasn’t about to tell him.
The kids around us gasped and ooohed. Tiny Human versus big Lethian. I bet they were placing bets with their desserts.
“Oh,” I said as I gently placed my palm on his chest and shoved. I’d been beaten up before and school security had responded within a minute. I could take a minute of it. Besides, I was pretty sure this fight had been set up well in advance. The choice was to play his game or figure out how to turn something, anything, to my advantage. “You mean the part about lunch? Or the part where I said you and your friends are ignorant, unintelligent—” Nonch caught my gaze and made a “get on with it” motion, “—jerks?”
“Human,” Darien moved against me, pushing me back, “you were simply adopted for, what? Money? You are an unwanted—”
Well said. I pivoted on one leg and twisted my body, whipping my arm upward. And released a ’natch-a-pult at his head.
My wet, green comet left a trail of stink as it flew at Darien and smacked into his mouth. I grabbed a lunch tray from a gawking student and launched myself after my stinky green projectile. Darien furiously scraped ’natch from his face and opened his eyes just as the lunch tray connected.
Several things happened at once. The tray broke. Darien shrieked. His feet slid out from under him on the slippery ’natch, and he fell onto his butt. Students screamed in delight, some shouting “Raystar!” while others shouted, “Food fight!”
In a blink, the air was crowded with arms, tentacles, and grabbers winging edible missiles at random targets.
Lunchageddon was upon us!
Nonch flowed toward me, sl
apping vomit-colored noodle soup out of the air with one claw and deflecting a dessert with a tray held in his other. There was a splat behind him. He twisted and peered curiously at a student who’d lost balance and face planted on his armored back.
Mieant vaulted over a chair that skidded his way and grabbed Fell by the shirt. With a heave, he threw him into T’jarl, and they dominoed into a cluster of other students busy hurling their lunches by the fistful.
We had an opening. I slapped Nonch’s carapace and jerked Mieant’s shirt. Remarkably, we coalesced into a team, and my friends followed my charge out of the cafeteria. The doors hissed shut behind us, cutting off the screams of joy and the chant, “Raystar! Raystar! Raystar!”
Nonch held a blade arm up to me and made a fist. I punched it with my own.
“That was nova,” Mieant said.
21
“There they are!” As one, we turned toward Jenna’s voice as her traitorous timbre seeped through to us.
A dozen school security guards in light body armor jogged past us and into the lunchroom chaos.
“Raystar! Raystar! Raystar!” sounded as the doors to the cafeteria swished open. Lunchageddon was still calling my name. “I didn’t do it” was not going to be an option.
Principal Entarch marched up behind four more security guards. Straight backed, she stopped a meter behind her Lethian entourage with her chin up and hands clasped behind her back. Her black eyes considered us impassively. Only her flaring nostrils gave any indication of her rage.
Jenna walked a little behind her, to her right. Her beads jingled with each step as she struggled to match the principal’s strides.
“Raystar! Rays….” The doors finally swooshed closed behind the guards and silence fell. I tried to gulp. There was no moisture in my mouth.
“Raystar,” Entarch said, halting in front of us. I shifted my gaze away from the Principal and glared at Jenna. She was supposed to be Cri’s friend! Jenna smirked back.
“I would expect nothing less of you,” Entarch burned her words into me. “But you, Broodmother Krig’s spawn? My, my, my. And the Asrigard.” She leaned down, laid a finger on Mieant’s chest, and pushed. “You four”—her eyes turned to Jenna—“are quite the catch.”
Jenna’s eyes flashed golden and then grew huge. “I, but…I brought you here!”
“No one likes a traitor, Jenna.” Entarch poked Mieant’s head with each word. “Not me. And, I would expect, not your friends, either.” She marched past us in the direction of her office. We were expected to follow.
We did.
22
I imagined the bridge of a starship looking like this. Dark. Vid-screens with various control images. Symbols lighting up the blackness and the crew’s faces with a red glow. The crew communicating silently with each other except for the occasional “shields at 70 percent and failing fast!” that needed to be screamed to the captain.
We were seated against the wall and faced the multi-level amphitheater of the Blue River Educational Facility’s control room. From here, we could observe the administrators as they watched the school’s environmental readouts and monitored student activities. I hadn’t realized how many cameras there were.
I glanced at Nonch. In this light, his immature, violet carapace looked black. The reflection of muted green and red lights shone against his armor. Jenna’s head was in her hands, and the glow of her eyes lit up her legs and feet with each alternating thought. I hoped she was revisiting how turning us in was EVER a good plan. She, I didn’t care about.
“Shells. You OK?”
Nonch reached out a sensor stalk and bopped me gently on the head.
Right. He was either furious or terrified. I suspected that Broodmothers became grumpy when their kids didn’t listen to directives. Uh, like, “Don’t be around Raystar.” Or maybe, “Don’t tell Raystar our secrets.” Or how about, “Don’t start a food fight with Raystar.” I sighed. Had I done anything good for the people around me?
“A synth from the library is missing,” I heard one Glean tech announce. Gloom was momentarily replaced by panic. I craned my neck to spot the owner of the voice. The Lethian staffer she was talking to swiped across her vid-screen; she didn’t look like a shining example of alertness. After acknowledging that a library synth was missing, and dutifully shouting it into the air, the Lethian yawned and called up her own attendant to check a personal message. Yawning again, she shifted her attention unenthusiastically toward the approaching supervisor. “It’s on the school grounds,” she said.
With stilt legs, a belly bulging over his belt, and long lanky arms, the Lethian supervisor glanced at her screen, swiped several information globes from her vid to his, and shrugged. “No matter. It’s a low-quality unit. I’ll have the cleaning and maintenance crew hunt for it in this evening cycle.” He turned to go and said, over his shoulder, “Good work.”
The tech yawned, made sure her supervisor was gone, and then switched to a different view.
I reached into my pocket and felt for the synth I’d pilfered. I needed it now more than ever. It was great news that the monitors couldn’t track it very well, and even better news that the school security staff just didn’t care.
Light glared from across the room, and Principal Entarch flowed imperiously from her office toward us. Her robes swished as she moved; her hands were behind her back and her chin angled upward. Mieant followed her like a wilted ’natch stalk. I made the decision right then and there that my starship would not include a Principal.
Mieant slumped into the chair on my other side with a thud.
“Raystar,” Entarch motioned to me, turned, and strode back to her office.
Nonch’s sensor stalks and a blade arm nudged me as I walked by.
“You have done nothing wrong,” he said, so quietly it was almost inaudible. “We are friends.” His blade arm extended to its fullest and touched my shoulder until I walked out of his reach. I glanced back at him, attempting a smile.
“You probably think your lunch incident was simply children’s immaturity,” the principal said over her shoulder as I followed her. I didn’t think that at all. I was sure we had been set up by Jenna and Darien. I just couldn’t understand why.
“A food fight,” she continued, “Easily enough dealt with. But had you not been there, it would NOT have happened. Time and again, you Humans bring out the worst in Galactics. Now, we finally approach a time when your species’ disruption will be no more.”
That didn’t sound like a reprimand.
Going from the dark control center to her bright, white office made me squint and shield my eyes momentarily. Blue seams outlined the white alloy plates that made up the floor, ceiling, and walls. Multiple white, curved chairs sat in front of a giant crescent-shaped desk. She sat behind her desk. I sat in front of her desk.
On the wall behind her, images of me lying on my back in the lev-sled flickered to life. The fire from the Ruins was on one screen. Closeups of Dad and me shoveling steel-blue goop into the containment appeared on another. My farm compound flickered on yet another. These were vid-sat images. There were no pictures of the food fight.
A thin smile slid across Entarch’s face as she watched me in silence.
Oh, no.
The pure black column standing to the right of her desk—somehow, I’d completely missed it—suddenly shimmered and took form. Jurisdictor Godwill uncrossed his arms. How had I not seen him? Principal Entarch leaned back in her chair, nodded to Godwill, motioned to me with a hand, and smiled. “I believe you know each other.”
I jumped up. He approached, raking over me with his black gaze. His eyes were too big for his skeletal head. He shot me a malicious, crooked smile that revealed his bone-crunching teeth.
“Raystar of Terra.”
“That’s not my name, Jurisdictor, sir.” I was sweating. “I am Raystar Ceridian.”
He stood in front of me, took my face in his hand, and made me look at him. Only Mom was allowed to give me fish lips
. My face got hot. “You are no Ceridian, little Human.”
I put my hands to his and eased my contorted face out of his grip. He chortled merrily. “Raystar of Terra, do you understand that I can do whatever I want? Get whatever I want?”
He met my glare with a smile.
“What?” he asked, mock care on his face. “Your parents will save you? Your mother? In line for the Ascendancy? They should be worrying about their real daughter,” he chuckled.
Godwill pulled me close, and I smelled bittersweet caramel on his breath—the smell of predator, of meat. His skull face morphed as his downward frown stretched his lips into a mound. He puckered and kissed my forehead.
I nearly vomited. My heart pounded and my stomach crawled into my throat. Godwill put a hand on my head and moved it down over my hair to my neck. He grabbed my hair at the base of my neck and jerked my head back so I could only look up at him.
“I want this!” He slid his other hand around my face, to the back of my head. His grip tightened, and he pulled. I screamed as hair was pulled from my scalp. I grabbed at the stinging flesh where it had been and simultaneously twisted out of his grip with all the strength I had.
“Now, as to the matter of the lunch incident?” Principal Entarch said, glancing at Godwill to see if he wanted to be part of the next conversation. He jerked his head at me, and then pointed to the door with his chin. He carefully dropped my red-tinged purple strands into a specimen bag and then turned to me, his face now expressionless.
“We will discuss your future later, Raystar. Tell Broodmother Krig's offspring to come in,” Principal Entarch said, waving to the exit. I glared at her. At Godwill. I wiped my nose, hoping for the energy to destroy them. My sleeve came away dry. I had cursed my nosebleeds and sparks at the least useful times. To have them now would have been nice.
“Raystar of Terra,” Godwill shook the bag holding the clump of my hair. “Leave us. Or are you volunteering more samples?”
I sprinted out of Principal Entarch’s office, my hand to the back of my head, and boiled on the inside at the absence of my stupid sparks.