The Sons of Sora

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The Sons of Sora Page 10

by Paul Tassi


  No.

  Go back.

  Get out.

  But his frozen throat wouldn’t form the words.

  The Corsair turned and saw the small shape layered in armor plating. She raised her gun. He extended his hand.

  And then, an explosion.

  Something ripped into the Corsair’s ship above them. The man immediately turned to look, dropping Noah in the process, whose arms sprang back to a proper angle. His left arm hung loosely at his side, however, and the pain in his collar was excruciating. Kyra was knocked off her feet from the force of the blast, her scattergun falling into a deep crack in the freeway. She scrambled toward Noah.

  Another explosion tore into the hull of the hovering round ship. Above it, out of the clouds came two gargantuan SDI dreadnoughts and one smaller interceptor making a beeline directly for them.

  Noah couldn’t find the strength to celebrate their arrival, or even move an inch. He looked on as a troop of Xalan reinforcements surrounded Lucas, dug their claws into his shoulders and hoisted him upright. The group took off with his father back toward the ship, their jetpacks blazing in the pouring rain. The Corsair launched himself from the ground to follow them, but there was no fire coming from his back as he flew into the night sky unaided. A chill cut through Noah right before he lost consciousness. The last thing he saw was Kyra’s face, inverted above him.

  10

  Lucas woke up in the sky. He was flying.

  Another dream.

  He was disappointed. The last one had been so vivid. He’d really believed he had been rescued by his long-lost sons—that he was going to get to see Asha again. The good dreams were more cruel than the nightmares.

  Lucas cringed as pain shot through his back. He rolled his head to the right and saw three Xalan claws firmly embedded in his shoulder. Above him, blue flames licked dangerously close to face.

  Oh god.

  It was no dream. Lucas watched Dubai disappear into gray mist beneath him as the dark ship grew closer. He could hear explosions. He tried to struggle, but was too weak. He couldn’t lift his arms more than a few inches, and his head felt like it had been cracked open.

  I hope they’re alive, was his only thought. He’d completely lost track of the group when the Xalans landed. They were children, not soldiers. They never should have come. He never should have called to them, though he had no recollection of doing so.

  There was something in the clouds up ahead, streaking through the rain toward him. A silver object outlined in orange flame that was getting closer and closer. Lucas heard a surprised grunt from above him.

  The shape slammed into the Xalan holding Lucas. He could see in the new tangle of limbs that it was a person. The three of them tumbled through the air wildly, and Lucas could hear the Xalan screaming as black blood erupted from his body and dissolved into the rain.

  And then, Lucas was falling.

  Above him was the dark ship, now firing its invisible engines. In a split second, it was gone, blinking past Lucas’s field of vision. In its place, Lucas saw three new ships. The cubic architecture of the SDI was obvious.

  The rain was starting to let up now. Lucas rolled his head to his right and saw the Xalan’s claw still embedded in his flesh. It wasn’t attached to anything, having been neatly severed at the wrist. He couldn’t see the ground, but knew it was approaching quickly.

  Save the children, he thought.

  But an orange-and-silver blur caught him.

  The ground was close. Mere seconds later the armored figure lay Lucas down on the muddy sand. Lucas could see the freeway overpass a few hundred yards away. They were in what appeared to be an old park, with broken benches and long-dry fountains now overflowing with water from the freak storm that was starting to subside. The rain had slowed to a drizzle and the clouds were parting.

  The figure rose up above him, staring at him, transfixed. The fiery jetpack was powered down. The visored helmet was removed and tossed aside.

  Long black hair spilled out onto the silver shoulders of her armor. A dark sword crossed her back. Brilliant green eyes brimmed with tears. And that smile.

  That smile.

  “Is it really you?” Asha said, astonished. She dropped to her knees.

  Lucas couldn’t find the words. The pain left him. He pulled himself to his feet and Asha rose with him.

  “I—” he began, but Asha threw her arms around him so tightly he might have very well rebroken a rib or two. But he didn’t care. He held her as close as he could.

  “I knew it,” she said. “I knew you were alive. They told me—”

  Lucas pulled back and stopped her with a kiss.

  He never wanted this moment, this second, to end.

  One dreadnought stayed behind to search for more nearby Xalan installations on Earth, while the other swallowed up both Asha’s interceptor and Stoller’s Shatterstar into its massive internal hangars. They were heading back to Sora, and Earth was slowly fading into a blue dot out the windows of the observation deck. The Corsair and his ship had vanished, the SDI vessels unable to destroy it before it activated its null core. It had done so just outside Earth’s atmosphere, which was supposed to be gravitationally impossible, but that was an issue for another day.

  The five young members of Lucas’s rescue party had each been found and brought onboard. It was Theta’s beacon that had drawn the SDI and Asha to their location. They had been trailing the Corsair for months, and the most recent data plotted him arriving in Earth’s solar system for reasons then unknown. Only now did they understand that he’d likely been investigating the incident at the lab where Lucas had been held, and tasked with his recapture.

  Noah was still unconscious in the med bay with a plasma wound, a dislocated shoulder, and a broken collarbone. The Auran girl had a concussion, but wouldn’t leave his side. Erik’s hand was a grisly mess, but he was awake and alert. The most dire prognosis was for Finn Stoller, who was in critical condition with a plasma round having eaten through his lung.

  Lucas’s own injuries had been dressed, but he’d escaped the encounter without any grievous wounds, thanks to the fact that the Corsair and his crew had been trying to take him alive. But none of that mattered now. All that mattered was her.

  Asha sat across from him in the observation deck as Earth disappeared and Jupiter came into view. She no longer wore her silver armor and had on a dark green undersuit instead. She was just as beautiful as Lucas remembered, if not more so.

  Lucas had been kept in stasis for the vast majority of his imprisonment, and it was as if he had instantly aged a decade and a half, with salt and pepper dotting his face and bald head. Asha, however, had the benefit of the Soran aging process, one that moved biology at a glacial pace due to their medical advances. She in no way looked her age, and Lucas still saw the fire-eyed huntress who had fought by his side for years, even if a new line or two had found its way into her face. She was still lean and hard and as insane as ever, as he’d learned when she bailed out of her ship to fly through the air and save him from abduction.

  “I couldn’t believe Theta’s distress message,” Asha said. She hadn’t taken her eyes off Lucas since they got on the ship.

  “‘Lucas the Earthborn located, Xalans engaging, request assistance.’ I listened to it a dozen times before we arrived and still couldn’t possibly think it was true.”

  “But you did,” Lucas said with a smile. “You always have. The only one that kept looking, from what I hear.”

  “They almost threw me in prison for it, the assholes,” she said.

  Lucas continued to grin.

  “Yeah, they don’t much care for it when you steal their ships, I imagine.”

  “I could feel that you were alive. I can’t explain it, but I just knew.”

  Lucas’s eyes narrowed.

  “Did I call you here?” he asked.

  “Call me?” Asha asked, confused. “What do you mean?”

  “That’s how the boys got here, they heard
‘Dubai’ in their dreams. They say it ‘pulled’ them here.”

  Asha shook her head.

  “Nothing like that,” she said. “I’ve had my share of dreams about you, but none ever told me to look for you here. I didn’t even know Earth’s climate had reverted to this degree.”

  A Soran officer had brought them a meal, which Lucas devoured hungrily. It was barely more than a few bites of cooked meat, but Lucas had been fed gas nutrients for nearly two decades, so it felt like a five-course dining experience. After quickly clearing the minimal plate, his weakened stomach started to churn angrily. Asha had five times the amount of food in front of her, but wasn’t touching it.

  “I can’t believe they came here,” Asha said. “I knew Erik was notorious for sneaking out of the colony, but to come to Earth? He’s lucky he didn’t get himself killed.”

  “I really only just met him, but I think I know where he got that sort of instinct from,” Lucas said with a sly smile.

  “Do you really want to talk about death wishes?” Asha asked. “The guy who blew himself up and has been dead for sixteen years?”

  “Almost blew himself up,” Lucas corrected.

  “I can’t believe the Desecrator actually ended up saving you,” she said, shaking her head.

  “It wasn’t his choice, believe me. And it cost me most of my skin.”

  The room fell silent. Uncomfortably so. Lucas knew where the conversation had to turn to now.

  “Alpha will fix this,” he said, tracing the black veins on his arm with his fingers. He’d been trying to avoid direct eye contact with Asha, not wanting to unnerve her with his shockingly blue irises. She was acting like she didn’t notice, but he could see a dim flicker of fear in her eyes now that he broached the subject.

  “I know,” she said with uncertain confidence. “Do you … feel any different?”

  Lucas shook his head.

  “No. I’m not a Shadow. I never finished the transformation, but I didn’t die either. But if they hadn’t found me, I would have. No one has survived the new process. They’ve killed hundreds of Soran prisoners trying to create new Shadows.”

  “Why?” Asha asked. “Why Sorans? Why you?”

  Lucas stared past her.

  “Theta’s trying to crack their research data. What she’s found so far is that, for some reason, the Xalans believe that human or Soran Shadows have the potential to be more powerful than Xalan ones. That they could be controlled and used as weapons.”

  “Reminds me of Alpha’s Desecrator bedtime story,” Asha said, “where they said that the Sorans created the monster in the Xalans’ own image to hunt them down and slaughter them. Only this time it’s the opposite.”

  “Kill me if it comes to that,” Lucas said with a forced smile. But inside he was genuinely concerned. In sixteen years, who knew what the Xalans had done to his mind? He heard voices of the dead at the lab. He’d lured his own sons to their almost certain demise through some sort of intergalactic psychic projection. What else was he capable of?

  Asha looked exhausted. Lucas felt the same way. He was still in pain, but also completely emotionally drained. He could hardly believe the events of the day, being reunited with his family after so many years. In certain moments it still didn’t feel real, and he was having periodic pangs of panic that he’d wake up back in the tank if he shut his eyes for more than a few seconds.

  Lucas pushed himself off his seat with a grimace and replanted himself across the table next to Asha. He swung his arm around her shoulder and she lay against his chest. She smelled of sweat and damp hair and blood, but it was all roses to Lucas. He had her back, and he’d never lose her again.

  Xalans didn’t smile. Their biology didn’t allow it. They could grimace, snarl, frown, sneer, but they’d never evolved the facial muscles for anything resembling a smile.

  But Lucas saw Alpha’s gold-ringed eyes light up all the same on the viewscreen in the comms bay, and the tone in his metallic voice indicated he was overjoyed and overcome with emotion to see his old friend again. But Xalans couldn’t cry either.

  “Lucas,” he said. “It cannot be.”

  Lucas, meanwhile, was beaming into the floating screen.

  “Hello, old friend,” he said, his voice wavering.

  In the monitor, Alpha backed up a few steps and sat down in a tall chair in his lab.

  “You were lost,” he said. “I had no reason to believe you lived. I should have listen to Asha. I should have—”

  Lucas cut him off.

  “You did plenty, Alpha. You built the null cores that reached Earth and reunited my family. You ensured the boys were well cared for, and grew into men strong enough to save me. And now I need you to do one more thing.”

  Alpha nodded slowly.

  “The Shadow conversion process, I have been briefed.”

  Alpha peered into the monitor for a closer look at Lucas’s vasculature and electric eyes.

  “The abominable practices of the Enclave continue, even after the death of the Council. I cannot fathom who would commission such a project, nor who would possess the knowledge to execute it. Xala has lost its brightest minds. This is the work of a madman or genius, I cannot be sure which.”

  Lucas sipped a drink laced with proteins that were supposed to normalize his digestion. It tasted like stale chalk.

  “Can you reverse it?” he asked.

  Alpha looked uncertain.

  “This is a field I know little about, as my father forbid us to study it. And Shadow conversion of Sorans is something I did not know existed until moments ago. With that said, I will pore over the data my disobedient daughter extracted from the laboratory in which you were found. And I give you my word that I will not rest until you are whole again.”

  Lucas couldn’t help but smile at his friend’s boundless dedication.

  “And I suppose congratulations are in order,” Lucas said, “though they’re about a decade late. You finally started that family you always wanted. She’s quite a girl.”

  Alpha nodded appreciatively.

  “She has her mother’s looks and propensity for troublemaking,” he said.

  “Mhm,” Lucas said with a masked smile. “I’m sure none of that is from your side at all.”

  “Recently resurrected and already making attempts at humor. I am glad to see they did not conquer your spirit.”

  “My spirit is intact,” Lucas said. “It’s my body and soul I’m worried about.”

  It wasn’t a joke, and they both knew it. Alpha’s tone grew more somber.

  “I will help you, Lucas, as you have helped me so many times before.”

  11

  Noah woke disoriented. Slowly remembering his injuries, he knew he should be in pain, but every bit of his body felt like it was being bathed in warm water. Opening his eyes, he saw the same sight he’d witnessed just before he’d gone under. Kyra blinked long lashes, and her lips parted into a smile.

  “He’s awake!” she said loudly, and Noah heard footsteps rush to his bedside. She turned back to him, words spilling out of her mouth too quickly to process. “Everyone made it out, don’t worry. Asha is here, Lucas is safe. So are your brother, Theta, and Finn.”

  Noah let out a sigh of relief and allowed the painkillers to continue their relaxation of his body and mind. A female medical officer fiddled with some tubes attached to his immobile left arm. He felt an internal itch near his collar and instinctively scratched.

  “Nanobots,” Kyra said. “I remember the first time they mended one of your bones back together.”

  “You mean the creek?” Noah asked with a lazy smile.

  “Of course I mean the creek.”

  Noah pulled himself a bit more upright on the bed with his remaining good arm. Kyra had a bandage wrapped around her head and some bruising near her neck, but was clearly in better shape than he was. Her hair fell down over one eye, leaving only one sphere of blue staring at him.

  “I made the jump, didn’t I? I said I would.�
��

  “Ah, the boasts of a seven-year-old,” Kyra laughed. “And all it cost you was your tibia.”

  “It was worth proving you wrong,” Noah shot back. He was trying not to slur, but his lips felt numb.

  The attendant left them, and Kyra sat back down on her chair, picking up a scroll she’d placed there. Noah looked around the room and saw a bed a few rows down from him where Finn Stoller lay unconscious. Thankfully he’d lived through what had appeared to be a mortal wound. The kid was braver than he seemed.

  Did Kyra say Asha was there? Noah’s head was swimming from the drugs. He turned to less immediate matters.

  “What are you reading?” he asked Kyra, motioning to the scroll. She opened it and holographic text sprung from the page. Noah couldn’t recognize the language.

  “A Ba’siri novel, Shi Lor’ssa u Sho Ann’istarak,” she said in a tongue Noah didn’t know. “The Princess and the Anrok,” she translated. “Thirty thousand years old.”

  “You speak Ba’siri?” he asked. She nodded. “And your English is perfect. How many languages do you know?”

  Kyra blushed briefly.

  “Twelve,” she said, which made Noah’s eyes widen. “The Anointed insisted,” she continued. “My grandfather made sure my education at the spire was historical, mathematical, scientific, and linguistic, not just spiritual. Though I do not know what I would do with such knowledge were I to live out my days within those stone walls. He said it wouldn’t be forever, but at times it was hard to believe him.”

  Noah scratched his chest again. The top half of his undersuit had been stripped away completely. He found himself a bit embarrassed of the large burn covering most of his now defunct left arm, even though the entire world had been well aware of it since his arrival on Sora. He wasn’t sure why he always rejected the offers for advanced skin grafts that could make him whole again. Perhaps because it felt like his last connection to his former homeworld. But now that he’d visited the place himself, maybe that thought was a bit silly. And judging from his injuries, he had a new set of souvenirs from the planet. A large bandage covered a plasma burn near his abdomen.

 

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