Galactic Storm

by Morgan Blayde

  Everything started to blur in Max’s mind after that. She remembered talking to a police officer about the accident, but she wasn’t sure later exactly what she’d said. She didn’t think she’d mentioned floating aliens.

  The scene was taking on a morbidly festive air. One of the kids pulled a boom box from a backpack. He popped in a hip-hop CD to provide a soundtrack for the event. Anxious parents from nearby houses had descended on the crowd, hunted down their teens. A crowd of the merely curious also gathered. Some of the car-owners were rampaging on their cell phones, calling their insurance companies, or lawyers.

  Max went looking for Jeff. She didn’t see him. She did see her dad. He sat upon the front edge of the hood, on the family station wagon. He studied the crowds and emergency vehicles like a kid at the circus.

  Max walked up to him, wondering whatever happened to the toast she’d been eating.

  “I saw you walking back,” her dad said. “I thought I’d just wait for you here rather than adding to the general mess in the street. So, how in the world did that bus turn over like that?”

  Max walked into her father’s arms, tears gathering suddenly in her eyes. “I…can’t say.” Gawd, it’s my fault again. How do I live with this?

  “It will be all right,” he assured her.

  “Yeah. Sure.” Until next time.

  Rock-solid, her father held her as if he had all the time in eternity just for this. “A freak accident.” He said. “Poop happens, then rolls downhill. You roll with it, sorta.”

  “I guess so.” She pulled back and wiped her eyes.

  “Speaking of freakishness, what’s her problem?”

  “Huh?” Max turning her head. Across the street, standing apart from the crowd, was a dark-haired girl Max’s own age. The student had very white skin, unnaturally white. Standing as still as a statue, the girl stared at Max. The clothing might have been tailored for her, fitting so very perfectly. “Wait, I think I know her…from school. Twila?”

  “Friend of yours?” her dad asked.

  “Not exactly. I’ve tried making friends with her—because she doesn’t have any. It didn’t take. She’s got a way of looking at you, like a collector viewing a bug pinned in a display box. If I didn’t know better I’d think she was from another planet.”

  The skin color made her think it might be possible, but max knew the girl had been in her school long before the aliens showed up.

  Just being paranoid.

  “Wherever she’s from, she’s coming this way,” her dad observed. “Probably just wants to know if you’re alright.”

  “Not likely. I’ve never seen her crack a smile, or show concern about anything.”

  He dad said, “Be nice. You grew up in a loving family. That’s rare these days. You don’t know the forces at home that have shaped who she is.”

  Twila came down the drive and stopped an arm’s length away from Max. The girl attempted a small smile, her violet eyes probing with a thousand yard stare.

  Max leaned back against her dad. “Uh, hi.”

  “Were you on the bus?” Twila asked.

  Max nodded. “After it fell in the ditch. Funny, the way it just … crashed like that.”

  Twila said, “I heard there was a problem with defective tires.”

  Max made no comment, though she knew better.

  Twila filled the silence. “We don’t hang out, but have a few classes together. I don’t remember your hair and eyes being quite so…bright.”

  “Uh, yeah, guess I’ve been crying. Added highlights to my hair, too. Like it?”

  Twila shrugged as if unsure of the best response. “You have first period art class, don’t you?”

  Before Max could answer, her father continued on the subject of hair. Conditioned by years of marriage, he gave Max the only answer possible: “Absolutely wonderful. You get more and more beautiful every day—just like your mother.”

  Heavy footsteps grew near. “Excuse me,” a strong bass voice intruded. Max recognized a familiar policeman with a clipboard. His nameplate said Morrison. His badge was shiny. “I wonder if you could answer a few more questions for me, miss.” His tone of voice implied that this would be a good thing.

  “Uh, sure,” Max squeaked out the words, feeling a tremendous rush of guilt in the officer’s presence. She looked away, and noticed that Twila was gone. Way down deep, some secret part of her relaxed. Max looked back at Officer Morrison being distracted by another officer, who whispered furiously.

  Morrison stared into the distance, stricken. “The high school…my Gawd.” Many of the police cars were already tearing out of the area. The cop hurried away, his questions forgotten.

  “I wonder what that was all about,” Max said. “Something about the school…”

  TEN

  Her father lost his usual laid-back, tinged-with-whimsy expression. He said, “Until I know it’s safe, you’re staying home. Too much danger is going around these days.”

  “Max shrugged. “Fine. I’ll bake some cookies or watch TV for a while.”

  Or maybe sneak off and check this out.

  The Voice said: No, Max. The enemy is still trying to drive you into the open. You need to sit tight while the Light Born root them out.

  She plodded back into her house. Her mom was in the living room, zoned out in front of the TV, catching her usual battery of morning talk shows. Max crossed the room, her eyes drawn irresistibly to the set. She noticed a special news bulletin in progress. There was an establishing shot of her high school, half-blocked by fire engines. Teachers were screaming, crying, or standing about in grim stoicism. A male gym teacher seemed to be trembling in anger, his face florid. National guardsmen were a deterring presence on the scene, holding back a seething crowd.

  Thick black smoke rolled upward from the building, parting in places to show wreaths of orange flame. Parts of the school were collapsed, as if bombed. It reminded Max of the televised scenes when the twin towers were attacked by terrorists. She moved closer to the television. Her mom got up and rushed over to her. Max was hugged with conviction, causing her backpack to fall to the floor. “You missed the bus. I was praying you weren’t in that mess down at the school. I will never again scold you for running late.”

  “I’m fine, Mom, really. What ae they saying on TV?” The sound was very low.

  Her mom said, “Some kind of terrorist attack. They’re going on all over the state. It’s incredible. My brother Billy…he works at one of the resorts hotels near west-coast Dizzyland.” She held up the cordless phone still lodged in her hand. “I’ve been trying to call him, see if he’s all right. I can’t get through.” Her mother paused, listening. “What’s all that racket outside?”

  “Bus had an accident. It’s under control.” Max moved to the couch with her mom, who thumbed up the volume. Their full attention became centered on a male reporter giving a shocked recitation of events. He stood well-groomed and packaged before the devastated school. His brow creased as he emoted concern in a hushed, stunned voice, reporting on efforts to contain the blaze.

  The scene changed to a view of emergency vehicles pulling away, headed for the closest hospital. Max was horrified by the images. How can I hide from this? People are being hurt, killed. Can’t I do anything about it? She rocked to her feet, as if to run, but stood rooted, having no place to go to.

  The room seemed to lurch. The colors shifted into a green spectrum. Objects in the room turned hazy. Far-off items lost definition. It was just like the color-shift she’d gone through the previous evening in the upstairs hall, except she wasn’t walking midair.

  Max turned to her mother, and discovered that she was frozen in place on the couch, facing the TV. “Mom?” No answer. Max’s heart pounded. Her hands curled into fists. Her nails bit into her palms as she struggled for calm. She’d have lashed out but there was no target available.

  What am I doing now?

  She sank to her knees and covered her eyes with the heels of her hands. I. Hate. Thi
s.

  Alien thoughts filled Max’s head, steadying her. Control your emotions, or they will control you. Draw strength from the stone, Daughter of Earth. If you stand and face your future with courage, I will fight with you. Your world needs us both.

  Max uncovered her face. A sparkling column of motes faded in before her. The light-play resolved into a golden figure, shadowed with copper-green, wearing an emerald-eyed mask. It was the masked woman from her airport dream. The strange visitor didn’t seem to breathe. Her torso was still. Her Voice came again. You’re in a pocket dimension that adjoins the one you know. It’s a non-temporal space. You can spend forever here without time passing elsewhere.

  The woman drifted closer in her rippling metallic skirts. Max found her eyes locked onto the cold fire of the emeralds in the mask.

  This special place is yours: a sanctuary. You can keep objects here and summon them at need. The crystal will bring you here to me whenever you desire. Guard well your heart. The stone responds to all of your desires, giving the most attention to the strongest.

  “Then,” Max struggled for reason, “it will give me whatever I want?”

  The stone has one limitation—you. It can supply infinite power, but you are the living channel through which such power must flow. If you draw too much, pushing through all pain, you may well destroy yourself. Guard your heart, child, and be very careful what you ask for.

  “I don’t want that kind of power,” Max said, seeing the fallen bus, its injured riders, in her mind’s eye.

  I cannot force you to use the Star. In fact, up until now I have held you back, uncertain if you could stand the burden. I have not wanted to break you. I was wrong. You have the kind of heart that will be broken by doing nothing. Even now, you ask yourself: How much damage does this world have to take, how many people must be hurt and killed, before you get to fight back against the off-world hunters?

  “I can’t stand seeing that kind of suffering.”

  I can. I made the mistake of thinking you needed to be the same way. I should have known that a child of another world must follow another way, becoming your own type of Guardian. Yes, your destiny is fixed and strange. You alone can make a difference as I never could. You can protect all that you love because it is loved and cherished, and this will be your greatest gift. Ultimate power will be yours … when you want it badly enough to pay the cost.

  “Why does anyone have to have this Star? Can’t it just be destroyed somehow?”

  The energies needed for such a job would destroy this galaxy…possible others. And the Star may one day be needed. There are terrible entities in dark nameless places that sometimes cross the dimensional barriers. If such a horror comes to this continuum, only a hero possessing the jewel can stand against it.

  “So, what? I’m a contingency plan against some extra-cosmic menace that may or may not come in my lifetime?”

  Exactly.

  The colors shifted. The living room returned. The newsman vacated the screen. Mrs. Bright gnawed a knuckle, as an announcement was made that her soap opera—Search for the Edge of Tomorrow—would not be shown due to the ongoing press coverage of TERROR FROM THE SKIES! She gave no sign she was aware of Max having slipped away between seconds.

  Max said, “Momma?”

  “Yes, dear,” her mother’s eyes never left the screen. There were scenes there of a fallen over-pass that had crushed a number of cars.

  “An alien necklace fell from space, choosing me as its new owner. Some killer aliens don’t like it so they’re rampaging across the world. People are being hurt, dying. I’ve gotta stop it. There’s no one else. No one.”

  “That’s nice dear. You want to fetch me a cup of coffee?”

  “I don’t want to be a superhero, but I have the power to set things right.”

  “Two teaspoons of creamer and sugar…”

  “No one else can.” Max’s words hung in the air, thick, echoing, as she slid her necklace out of her pocket, and lifted it before her face. The chain went over her head. The Star’s golden light flashed warm and bright. Max thought she could even taste the energy on her tongue, like licking the twin terminals of a nine-volt battery.

  The light grew brighter, washing away the living room. She heard her mom cry out, startled. Max finally had her mother’s full attention. She leaped at Max, rebounding off a translucent wall of golden energy. She fell and climbed back to her feet. She put her hands against the golden barrier that separated them. She screamed, “Maxine!”

  “I’m all right, Momma. Don’t worry.” At the light-storm’s core, Max’s clothing changed. Peeling away, they dissolved into dancing needles of light. The light play swarmed her, solidifying into form-fitting armor of gold. A helmet with a translucent visor covered most of her head, but didn’t distort her features.

  No more hiding. If this is who I am now, let the world see. Let the universe know.

  A strange new instinct guided her to lift a hand. Her fingers curled around the tail of a radiant starburst. The streak of light she touched became a materialized bar of crystallized gold. The light-storm died. Max realized that her mom had been screaming her name for quite a while. Her mom staggered closer, the barrier gone. Her mother’s hair and thoughts seemed equally disarrayed. Her trembling hand came up. Max caught it, held it. She saw herself reflected in her mother’s eyes.

  I’ve crossed a line and left humanity behind.

  She’d become a creature of crystal-gold and fire. Max forced down a sense of desolation, and smiled. “Please, don’t worry. I’ve gotta go now. People need me to set everything right. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Wait a minute. What’s happened to you? I don’t understand…”

  “We’ll go through it all again when I get back, Momma. Just trust me. I’m still your daughter.”

  I don’t like leaving Mom in mid-freak, but lives are on the line. A globe of citrine light enclosed Max. It lifted her into the air, and phased her harmlessly through the structure of the house, out into the open sky. She flashed over her father’s head, leaving him behind.

  The ground fell swiftly away. The neighborhood became a collection of dollhouses with toy vehicles parked around them. The people were tiny, unreal. Off in the distance, plumes of black and gray smoke provided a landmark to the burning school. Max concentrated on her desire to go there, and the sphere responded with greater speed. It hurled itself to the location Max wanted, sending her sliding in circles within the sphere. Max settled, hands and knees on the bottom of the sphere, staring down at fire trucks, police cars, and curious spectators. A large Hispanic woman on an ambulance cart, wearing an oxygen mask, went wide-eyed and began to cross herself fervently.

  This is so cool. I could enjoy myself if wasn’t for Mom having blown a head-gasket. Man, when I get back, I’ll probably be grounded for life.

  Max willed her bubble to descend at an angle. It deposited her at the entrance of the school, within the police barriers, and faded out. Someone yelled something vaguely official at her. She ignored it, entering the building. The air was thick with smoke. Max just stopped breathing. Her energy-flooded cells were operating in a way nature had never intended. Finding her way wasn’t difficult either; like stone gray pythons, the hose lines underfoot were her guides.

  Soon, she entered the worst part of the blaze. It was strange, seeing the flames riding the heavy smoke but not being able to feel the heat. Voices filtered through the roar of the fire as she reached a pocket-full of firefighters. They were hosing down the walls, and attacking the base of the fires around them. They had several unconscious students with them that they were about to haul away, victims of smoke inhalation.

  Max looked up as burning chunks of ceiling fell around her. It looked like the firemen had run out of time; the roof was coming down. Max looked at her sword, frowning. A shield is what I really need—big one.

  Responding to her thoughts, the sword collapsed to its mid-point, becoming a golden star hovering in place. It generate
d expanding half-shells that rose upward, forming a golden barrier near the ceiling.

  Gotta do something about this fire.

  Max felt a build-up of energy within her as if some unseen mechanism were revving at maximum, needing only direction. Go! She gave the mental order and a shock wave went out from her. It bowled over the firemen, carrying the smoke away. The flames were snuffed out and prevented from re-igniting by the gold energy that soaked into the building, slowing molecular movement drastically. A white film of frost formed on interior surfaces.

  She willed another bubble into existence. The firefighters and civilians were englobed, and lifted into the air above the abandoned hoses. Max envisioned herself, flying beside the globe, and her feet left the ground.

  I better get these guys outside.

  Phasing like ghosts through solid walls, they reached the front of the school in no time. Those in her bubble drifted gently earthward. The sphere burst and faded, touching down by an ambulance. Max arced upward, keeping her distance from everyone.

  Several of those in the on-looking crowd buzzed with excitement, pointing at Max. She didn’t have time or interest in stopping; the sound of a distant explosion reached her from the industrial park region, miles away.

  She concentrated. A golden wind seized her. She went hurtling in the direction of the new disturbance.

  I knew it couldn’t be this easy, she thought. Hey! Who are these guys?

  A dozen, glowing figures surrounded her. Most were bipedal but scarcely human. The one closest to her was a mountainoid, built like a gorilla on steroids. His skin was the pink of early sunburn, set off by a clinging suit of midnight-blue leather. The lead alien also wore round, blue-tinted shades.

  He offered her a friendly smile.

  Don’t be deceived, Max warned herself, her heart beating faster. These are probably the evil aliens. Yet, their very presence seemed to steady her, providing an unexpected comfort she couldn’t explain. Maybe I should give them the benefit of the doubt. After all, I’m right here and no one’s trying to kill me—yet.