Raystar of Terra: Book 1

by Kurt Johnson

  “I had wondered how you produced the streamers for me. They were indeed beautiful.”

  “Ha! That’s nothing compared to what I had! I could have made arm bands for you that would have honored your Broodmother, with colors and patterns never seen before!

  “Nonetheless, I am still grateful for—” Nonch said, but Mieant interrupted him, intent on his thought.

  “My friends, my dreams, even my fabrics, are on Solium4. And I’m here. The glorious ’natch capital of the galaxy. When I met Raystar, I could not see how she could help anything, even herself. I was furious about the waste of my life, and the jeopardy my parents had put themselves in by placing their hopes with her.”

  Armor clacked. I opened an eye. I wasn’t on sand anymore. I focused on the weave of the green bedding I lay on. I wasn’t angry. We were all just creatures, I guess, trying to do our best with the gap between what we’re given and what we want. Fashion, huh. It certainly explained his looks. I’d written it off to his parents being wealthy, but had he actually been making his own clothes?

  And I could see how unfair it would seem to him. His parents, the Quadrant Governors, moved here for some reason to do with me. That they would move here because of me, that in itself was difficult to imagine. “People” wouldn’t even open the door for me.

  And yet, an Ascendant family, as a result of a decision made by the Glean Gathering, had adopted me. There were other parties involved too. I thought sourly that my circumstance was like a Galactic “adopt Raystar” agreement. But the implications were that I was important to something.

  Yet, no miraculous Human tech had manifested itself, with the exception of my new powers. Godwill and his soldiers had neutralized them easily enough. Lightning flashed in the background, and in the darkness of the Storm Wall, it was impossible to tell day or night.

  “Nonch, my parents said we’d only be here for two cycles. Instead, I’m growing up here!”

  “I am growing up here, too,” Nonch replied, a chill in his tone.

  “That is your destiny. Mine is not on this planet. This galaxy is so much bigger than you planet-bounds can imagine. My old life was shredded for this small creature that hides in the protection of her sister.” There was silence, and then he continued. “And I have seen her do things, Crynit. She is not what she seems!”

  I cracked open my other eye.

  My face rested on my hands, and I had pulled my legs toward my chest. Nonch was curled in a wall around me. His armored midnight-blue segments were hard, but warm to the touch.

  Mieant sat cross-legged in front of him. His olive explorer’s outfit was torn and singed. There was a hole where Nurse Pheelios’s tentacle had stabbed him. I winced at the pain in my back, shoulders, and hips. My collar dug into my neck. No stars, no distant planets, no exploration, no nothing was my destiny. Godwill was going to kill me.

  “Lethian-Mieant.” Nonch sighed, after a moment. “Ordinarily, I would say that Broodmother would have found us by now. However, this camp must be somehow shielded from our Hive’s sensors, or Broodmother would have come to get me, at least. I agree with your assessment. We are on our own. Orphans. But consider—your parents, my Broodmother, and Raystar and Cri’s parents. The probability is high that they will all be permanently missing their offspring if we do not take action ourselves.”

  “You want me to trust you.”

  “If we do not trust each other, Lethian....”

  Silence.

  Nonch continued, “I do not think Godwill needed to go through the trouble of bringing us to this dusty camp to eliminate us. He could have done it at any time previously. A much larger thing is happening. We are caught either in its focus or in its wake.” As he spoke, Nonch dipped his sensor stalks alternately at the words “focus” and “wake.”

  “What do you mean?” Mieant’s frown creased his forehead, and the edges of his mouth turned downward in a very Lethian expression.

  “The son of the Quadrant Co-Governors? The Asrigard Heir? The only Human on Nem’? And I, Broodmother Krig’s offspring? Imprisoned together?”

  Four species. Except for me, the kids of the leaders. Yeah.

  Mieant grunted his agreement after a moment. “Nonch, what Raystar did in Nurse Pheelios’s office was…terrifying,” His voice lowered to a whisper. “She is not telling us everything. Can WE trust HER?”

  “Cri approaches,” Nonch said a moment before I heard her footsteps. “We will discuss this at another time.”

  “OK. Bad news,” Cri announced as she approached. Her black hair swished behind her shoulders, and her expression, so much like Mom’s, lit up when she saw Mieant. Something clanked in her hands, and her eyes glowed with excitement. “I found us food canisters.”

  “Why’s that bad?” Mieant asked.

  “The Twig can’t eat it,” she said, pointing to me and raising an eyebrow. “It’s synthetic. She’s allergic.”

  I winced at my nickname, but my stomach pinched and grumbled at the mention of food. Amidst my OTHER pain, I hadn’t realized how hungry I was. Most Galactic food was created from chemicals. I couldn’t digest it. Usually, only the newer races in the Convergence, those without hundreds of years to adjust to the additives, had that problem. Humans had been in the Convergence for 1,800 years. But maybe with my nanotech, I could consume it?

  Right. Along with everyone else. It was a terrifying thought.

  I didn’t even know how to, uh, activate me.

  “I got water, though,” she said brightly, holding up several grey metal cylinders hanging on a chain.

  I opened my eyes. Being helpless was no longer an option. Everyone here was here because of me. Groaning, I pushed myself up into a cross-legged position. My friends and sister turned my direction.

  “Mieant,” I said, scooting stiffly to sit facing him, “I tried to save your parents. They’re alive. Or at least they were before we were captured,” I said, looking directly into his eyes.

  He dropped his gaze and swallowed.

  “Here,” Cri said, handing a canister of water to Mieant and Nonch, and then to me. And then she did a double take. “You got blood.” My hand shot to my nose, and I felt a crusty line tracing around my lip and down my cheek. I rubbed dried blood from my face with my dirt-crusted sleeve. We sipped in silence, no one really looking at anyone else.

  “Principal Entarch used Dad’s swords,” I said, still staring at nothing.

  “Architect!” She gaped. “Do you think he’s OK? How did they get them?” She began hyperventilating. I watched as Mieant rose and wrapped his arms around her. “If they have Dad, then we can’t be rescued! And…and…Mom must be in terrible danger! and…OH NO,” Cri was devolving into sobs that jerked her shoulders and made her matted hair fall around her face.

  “We know nothing conclusively, Cri, Sister-of-Raystar,” Nonch said calmly. She peered up at him in between strands of black hair. Her eyes didn’t glow. “As Mieant and I had discussed, we believe there is no coincidence that the four of us, given who our parents are, are imprisoned together. While we do not know their status, it is reasonable to assume that they do not know ours. That we are alone and must depend on ourselves in what time we have left. That is our only truth and perhaps, our only hope.”

  Mieant nodded his assent, pulled Cri close, and whispered something to her.

  “Where are we?” I croaked after a long moment. To my surprise, Cri sucked in a breath and disengaged from Mieant. She pushed her hair back behind her ears and straightened her ripped clothes—gestures that reminded me of Mom. Thinking of her, my head began to ache and I thought I tasted blood in my mouth. I willed both sensations into my subconscious. I had to lock them away to have any chance of functioning.

  “The camp is rectangular. There’s a large building that way, two smaller buildings like this one in a row in front, and on the other side of these is a cruiser landing pad.” She sniffed, took in another breath, and began to assemble a map on the concrete using ’natch leaves as building marke
rs. The camp was laid out like a lowercase “t”, with the three buildings making the cross, the larger building the base, and the landing pad the top. “I think the other buildings may have prisoners. One’s a bathroom.” She paused. “The Storm Wall makes it impossible to tell the time, but I think I can see Blue River’s lights against the clouds in the distance. Which means it’s probably early evening. And there are at least thirty guards—Glean, Lethian and Crynit.”

  “Wow.” I blinked at my sister. “That was, uh, amazingly thorough, Cri.” She frowned at my compliment.

  “Crynits working with Jurisdictor Godwill!” Nonch hissed.

  Mieant laughed bitterly. He waved upward. “Out there, everyone has a side. Even sides have sides, and there are few reasons to be friendly, even to your own species.”

  Nonch responded with silence and a stillness that revealed nothing of his thoughts. Maybe not for long. Based on what he’d hinted at, change was coming to the Crynits.

  “OK,” I said, taking a sip. The water tasted like metal and lemon, and something soft dislodged from inside the container and touched my tongue as I drank. I sputtered it out, shuddering, and rubbed my lips against my sleeve. “We need a plan.”

  “Yes. We need to understand the purpose of the buildings, the ways in and out of the camp,” Mieant added.

  “Patterns,” Cri said, “the guard patterns, shifts, things like that?”

  “Glad we have all watched action vids,” Mieant snarked. “Cameras. We need to find all of the cameras.”

  I placed a hand on Nonch’s banded, armored back and heaved myself up. Ow. Stretching, I surveyed our enclosure. We were on a concrete slab. Four pillars supported a flat roof. Our rough green bedrolls spread over various parts of the floor. It was too dark to see any cameras, but it was a sure bet we were being monitored. I had seen enough action vids to know that.

  I turned to Cri. “So they just let us walk around?”

  “I did,” she shrugged. “I walked over there.” She pointed to the large shadow across an expanse of the camp’s yard. “Pretty sure these collars let them know where we are, and given that they can turn them on and off whenever, I don’t think they worry about us trying to run.”

  The collars would need to be removed. But we were sorely lacking information. Right. First figure out what we were up against, then figure out the collars. I breathed in and lifted my gaze. Through the darkness, I could make out vague, squat shapes. From one building, taller than the others, light seeped through blind-covered windows.

  Something was vaguely familiar about the location of the camp.

  ’Natch! I inhaled its richness. I’d lived my whole life around it, in it, with it. Knowing it was nearby was oddly comforting. I took another deep breath and took in my companions.

  Nonch, who’d proven loyal in entrusting me with his life-threatening secret, stood silhouetted against the low light. He was a beacon of stability and common sense. His midnight blue-banded plates dully reflected back the camp lights, and his top two orange primary eyes were iridescent in the darkness. Mieant, my bully-turned-reluctant-ally, was talking softly to my sister, his head against her forehead. I had saved his parents! Maybe now he believed me. His more rigid posture suggested a willingness to at least hope his parents were still alive. I sighed. I knew him better now, knew how intertwined our fates actually were.

  Cri. Big Sis’. Dimly, I remembered a time when she could do no wrong, and now? I shook my head. Now? I could do no right. I watched her, nodding occasionally to whatever Mieant was saying. She had her lower arms around his waist. Their intimacy wasn’t hidden, and there was no way to mask what was growing between them. The four of us were prisoners together.

  Relationships are like clouds. But instead of being created by wind and heat, we’re shaped by time and circumstance. Only two days ago, we were different people with different views about each other. The people we collect in our lives may not be the ones we thought we’d have, or even wanted. We can treat them well, or discard them. Show them love, or hate them.

  But they’re all OURS. In the hardest of times, what do we owe them? What would we do to see them safe?

  My eyes burned. I rubbed doubt and uncertainty away.

  I’d do anything for my friends.

  It was time to explore and see what we had to work with.

  37

  The shadow that rose out of the morning darkness blocked our first exploratory steps into the compound and towered four meters above us. Five black-chitin, blade-sharp arms sprung around us like a ribcage. Cri was to my left and Mieant was to my right, and its claw arms could touch them both on their outside shoulders.

  “Aiiieee!” We jumped back; the terror was shared between the three of us. Nonch opened his arms into a spiky net, keeping us from tumbling to the ground in a jumble of panicked legs and arms.

  The creature’s head dwarfed my upper body, with mandibles perhaps as long as me; death weaved slowly, back and forth, in front of us. The massive Crynit hissed and clacked. She was easily twice Nonch’s size.

  Sarla.

  Her head lowered toward me, and she my brushed my face tentatively with her sensor stalks.

  “You do not look like a destroyer of worlds, little one,” the giant Galactic near-whispered as she clacked her arm claws together slowly, like fingers drummed on a table in contemplation. Her voice, rich, feminine, cool, and bemused, vibrated through me. My heart stopped. I tried to restart it by hyperventilating.

  She turned to Nonch. The two Crynits froze, quieter than we who lay breathless in Nonch’s net of arms.

  “Sarla the Betrayer!” Nonch hissed, but he lowered his sensor stalks in a sign of submission. A direct conflict between Sarla and Nonch would be eye-blink quick. And we’d be less one companion.

  Fresh earth and sugar wafted through the air.

  “Child,” the Crynit said, gently, tapping him once softly between his two orange eyes with a blade claw, “you know nothing.” Sarla turned back to me and pointed with the same spear-sized appendage. “This tragic creature is your undoing. This Human should never have been saved. Tend to the Brood, young Nonch of Krig, instead of throwing your talent and our hope into the grindstone of WAR.” Her husky voice cracked with emotion at the last word, and her long shape shook.

  “You abandon us, and tell me to tend to the Brood?”

  Sarla hissed, arching above us and flaring her arm claws for a deadly downward strike. “Broodmother is blind, and her path is madness. She will bring Crynit deaths on a scale seen not for two thousand years!” Sarla paused and dropped a razor-sharp claw hand within centimeters of my face. With barely contained rage, she hissed, “Because of these Humans!”

  My eyes were, I’m sure, crossed as I stared at Sarla’s death-dealing fingertip hovering a blade’s width from my nose. “I’m just a kid,” I breathed out, my fear making breathing difficult. Looking up at Sarla, I mumbled, “I didn’t ask for any of this.”

  Sarla turned her enormous head to me, her hot breath blowing strands of hair from my face. Slowly, she withdrew her claw hand. Two snaps of her mandibles later, she turned and thrummed away into the darkness.

  Seconds, minutes, hours passed. I don’t think any of us knew how long we’d stood there hyperventilating, each of us trying to get our own version of a heart back into its right spot in our chests.

  Mieant was the first to rise out of Nonch’s arm claws. “Architect. He’s big,” he breathed.

  The sound of his voice startled us all into movement.

  “She,” Nonch said as he lifted us up. “Sarla is a she. The largest of us are female.”

  “She smells good, like…sweetness and earth,” Cri said.

  Nonch spun Cri to face him, with two arm claws poking her gently in the chest. His iridescent orange primary eyes eerily focused on her. “That is the smell of death, Cri Ceridian. If you smell that around my kind, beware.”

  Cri gulped.

  “Nonch,” I placed my hand on his arm claw, pulling him aw
ay from Cri. “What did Sarla mean? About Broodmother and her madness?”

  He hesitated, glancing furtively at Cri and Mieant, and then straightened. “She believes Crynits need to be on a different side. That we chose the wrong side 1,800 years ago. The other Broodmothers do not agree.”

  “But there’s no, uh, war, right now….” Cri’s voice tapered off at the last word. She looked at each of us in turn, her eyes big with worry as she moved more tightly against Mieant.

  “Cri, Sister-of-Raystar, two Convergence Battlegroups are in transit to Nem’. We”—Nonch waved to the complex in general with his six arm claws—“are in prison.”

  He had a point.

  Mieant coughed and changed the subject. “Maybe we should wait until the sun’s fully risen. You know. To explore.”

  A pair of Lethian guards walked by. They heard Mieant and chuckled.

  We looked at each other and straightened up. I’d learned at school that you don’t show fear to bullies. This could be a bit different—I mean, these bullies had actually kidnapped us. And they had plasma rifles. I let out the loud breath I’d been holding and smiled after them. One guard frowned. I could do a brave face.

  Because after Sarla, they were not even remotely close to scary.

  And we needed to see what this camp was all about.

  “So, what? You use smells for emotion?” Mieant asked as I started us off toward the closest of the four buildings. We’d walk around them and be able to see the camp perimeter, check out our captors, and assess the uses of each of the buildings.

  “It is much more than that. Pheromones. Highly coded chemical messages. In the hive, it is much more efficient than assembling lines of words.”