The Sons of Sora

by Paul Tassi

  It had been a few days since Alpha had stopped by to treat and test Lucas. At least Lucas thought that was how long it had been. Often, to avoid the uncomfortable stares of the soldiers, he didn’t even leave the sublevels of his chambers. Days and nights passed by with him none the wiser. Lucas probably hadn’t even slept in at least two days, though he felt no worse for it. Another Shadow side effect? It seemed there were too many to keep track of. But still, whatever Alpha had been treating him with, he felt himself growing weaker by the day. A few of his black veins had reverted to soft red and blue. His eyes had dulled a bit in color.

  Lucas was surprised when the outer doors to his quarters opened and a new face entered. A grandmotherly looking woman in a long silver coat shuffled through the entryway with a smile stretched across her face. Lucas approached her cautiously.

  “Hello, Lucas!” she said, beaming. If she was put off by his appearance, it didn’t show.

  “Um, hello,” Lucas replied, eyeing her coat, which was so long it dragged behind her like a train. She had fine white hair threaded into a single thick braid that wrapped around her head. Her moss-green eyes twinkled and deep lines branched out from the corners when she smiled. She looked old, which was a rarity on Sora, meaning she had to be at least 160 or 170.

  “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” she said, giving Lucas a short bow. “I’ve been looking forward to this day for a while now.”

  Lucas returned the quaint bow, still unsure of what was happening.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “Where are my manners? I am Jahane Stellen Tarla. I used to work with Malorious Auran before he gave up his genetics lab to become Palace Keeper. More recently, we built Colony One together, and I was on the Earthborn project for oh, about a decade I’d say. I’ve also worked with your friend Alpha from time to time these past few years.”

  “Interesting,” Lucas said. “And where is Alpha?”

  “Ah,” she replied. “This is the reason for my presence. Alpha has been called away to fix an urgent problem with null core production. It’s more crucial than ever we fit the last of our warships to chase down the remaining Xalan fleets, and it is a matter that required his most urgent attention. I am here in his stead, tasked with following his treatment regimen to the letter to make sure you’re in fighting shape for when you’re needed to help us win the war!”

  She was bursting with energy for someone so seemingly ancient. Lucas cocked his head. “You’re following his exact regimen?”

  “To the letter,” she repeated, and produced a white case from inside her coat. She opened it to display a familiar row of syringes. Clear liquid was bound inside the glass: the cocktail that had been slowly curing Lucas over time. If she really was following Alpha’s orders, she’d continue to cure him without even knowing it. But still, Lucas was wary.

  “Why didn’t Alpha let me know about the switch?” Lucas asked. “Not that I resent your presence, of course,” he added politely.

  “The issue really was quite pressing. But oh yes! I’d almost forgotten. He did record this to pass along to you when I arrived.”

  The woman pulled out a small chip and a hologram sprang out. Alpha’s face rose up in between them.

  “Greetings Lucas,” he said. The hologram flickered with some sort of interference. “I apologize that I have been called away to deal with this pressing problem. I have hand-selected Geneticist Tarla to continue my regimen to ensure your continued progress. She has assured me that, though Shadow science is past her level of understanding, as is true of all Sorans, she will follow my instructions exactly during my absence. I cannot say how long this problem will continue to draw my attention, so forgive my absence until I am able to return.”

  Alpha looked briefly off screen then back again, his eyes fixed forward.

  “Farewell, brother.”

  The hologram cut out.

  Lucas believed he understood now. Alpha had picked the most amiable geneticist available who wouldn’t understand that Lucas was being cured instead of having his abilities amplified, but who was still skilled enough to administer the treatment without botching any of the steps. The forged results would continue to present themselves as fact and the Stoller administration would be none the wiser. Lucas would be cured, and by then hopefully the war would be won and Stoller wouldn’t even care about the “failed” experiment. Alpha really was ten times smarter than Stoller would ever be.

  For the next week, Lucas took his treatments from Geneticist Tarla, who insisted she be called “Jahane” at all times. She rarely stopped talking, filling the silences between injections, body scans, and DNA samples with stories about her expansive family, which included a hundred great-great-grandchildren. Each and every one had their own list of accomplishments, and Lucas couldn’t help but grow fond of the proud grandmother. She rarely asked him any questions outside of those required for the procedures, which was also a welcome switch. Lucas was tired of being prodded about Earth, the war, his imprisonment, his family, all of it. It was nice to simply exist and let someone else spill their life story for a change.

  “You’re making fantastic progress!” Jahane said one day after Lucas squeezed a can of allium into rubble. The data produced massive spikes on the readout, but Lucas could see he’d done less damage to the allium than he had in previous weeks when he’d been stronger. Or had he? The twisted metal was hard to gauge, actually. Whatever the case, if the tests were showing power spikes, Alpha’s forged data was continuing to get the job done. Lucas almost felt bad for lying to the sweet Jahane, however. He hoped she wouldn’t get in trouble when the truth eventually did come to light.

  “Any word on when I can get in touch with Alpha? Or Asha?” he asked.

  Jahane’s smile was forever at full wattage. “They should be wrapping up shortly, but Alpha is performing his work at the Thylium orbital hangar. Asha has been sent to guard him in this critical stage of the process. Unfortunately the solar storm persists and they’re unable to be reached.”

  “What about Colony One?” Lucas asked, suddenly thinking of the boys.

  Jahane lit up. “Oh, that can absolutely be arranged! Why didn’t you ask earlier?”

  Lucas couldn’t think of an answer. In truth, he wasn’t even sure why. Perhaps it was because the last time he could remember his children, they were barely able to talk. Still, it was reassuring that he was able to reach out to at least some of his family. He was growing a bit concerned with Alpha and Asha’s silence, but felt more at ease knowing Colony One was still accessible. Everything was fine, right? Though if he couldn’t get ahold of Noah or Erik, that would set off some alarm bells.

  Jahane was already dialing the colony on her scroll. Lucas felt himself relax when Erik’s face appeared in front of them.

  “Yeah?” Erik said irritably.

  He was fine. Everything was fine.

  “Hey, uh, Erik,” Lucas said awkwardly. He still didn’t feel like it was appropriate to say “son.” He’d have been more comfortable doing so with Noah; even though Erik was his flesh and blood, he felt far more distant from his biological offspring.

  “What’s new, father?”

  Lucas’s heart momentarily leaped at being addressed as “father,” but he quickly realized it was probably sarcasm.

  “Nothing,” Lucas said. “I’m just undergoing treatment while Alpha and your mother are away.”

  Jahane was slowly backing out of the room to give him some privacy. Though it was obvious the government would be monitoring anything and everything said.

  “They’re gone?” Erik asked, rubbing his hand through his hair. “News to me. But hey, that’s always how it is with Asha.”

  Lucas didn’t much care for his tone.

  “She saved all of us back on Earth,” Lucas said. “If I recall, she extracted you from a mess of your own making.”

  Erik rolled his eyes.

  “And if I recall, if I hadn’t gotten us into that mess, you’d still be locked in a tank being
probed by the Archon.”

  Lucas nodded.

  “And I am forever in your debt.”

  Erik didn’t know what to make of genuine appreciation. He turned to the side. It revealed a large scrape near his ear.

  “What happened?” Lucas said.

  Erik swung his scroll projection around a bit, and Lucas caught a view of … was that a lightscreen?

  “Are you in prison?” Lucas asked.

  “Well, that makes two of us,” Erik replied smartly.

  “I’m not in prison. I’m under observation,” Lucas said gruffly. “And don’t change the subject. What the hell happened?”

  “Oh hey, look, Noah’s here. Talk to him,” Erik said, ignoring Lucas completely. He held the scroll up to the lightscreen and Lucas could see a tall blond shape.

  “Is that Lucas?” he heard.

  The video feed changed from Erik’s scroll to Noah’s.

  “Hey,” Noah said. His hair had been cut shorter than when Lucas saw him last. His eyes were tired. It was understandable; he’d been through a lot the past few months. More than anyone his age should.

  “Just seeing if you two were alright,” Lucas said. “But I can see I’ve missed some things.”

  He could see Noah was walking, and shortly a door slid shut behind him. The new room was darker, quieter.

  “I’m tempted to say it’s just Erik being Erik, but I’m worried about him. He went too far this time. Really hurt some people.”

  “What happened?” Lucas asked.

  “Long story,” Noah said, shaking his head. “Suffice it to say, what happened on the ship really shook him up.”

  Asha had told Lucas about Madric Stoller’s attempted assassination of Kyra Auran, and the revelation that she was some relation to the deceased Corinthia Vale, if not an exact copy of her. Lucas now knew why the girl had unsettled him when they first met. He had heard every tall tale about clones. But none of this was her fault, and it was hard not to feel for the poor girl. “Has Erik always been like this?” Lucas asked.

  Noah shifted his head back and forth.

  “To some extent. It was bad when you were gone, but honestly it might be even worse now that you’re back.”

  “Because I’m some sort of monster now?”

  “You’re just not who he thought you were.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Yes, he hated that you died and left him alone. But there was a time before he felt that way. When he was little, he adored you. He read every scroll written about you, and was constantly bragging to all his friends in the colony about his father the dauntless warrior, savior of Sora. You were his hero, until your absence finally overshadowed your myth and he got cynical as he grew older. Now? You’re back, and you’re … something else.”

  Lucas’s heart was caught in his throat. His stomach felt frozen.

  “And what about you?” he said quietly.

  Noah stared straight into the scroll.

  “I believe you can be that man again, if you don’t die in the attempt. That said, I’d take a live father over a dead hero, even if it’s a selfish thought.”

  With no ability to contact Asha, Lucas found himself sifting through archived Stream feeds of her in the late, dim hours of the night. He found one clip of a parade celeberating the anniversary of when Asha and the others had returned from their mission to Xala. There were open-air hovercrafts stretching down the recently rebuilt Tatoni Square in downtown Elyria, each carrying scores of soldiers and officers who were said to have performed some feat of bravery during the massive aerial battle with the Xalan fleet near the gas planet Altoria. Eventually, the final hovercraft—a massive, pearl-colored, dozen-engined transport—carried Asha, Alpha, Zeta, and Kiati, the remnants of the Xala infiltration team. Alpha and Zeta waved awkwardly at the millions in the crowd; the gesture wasn’t common in Xalan culture.

  And then there was Asha.

  She was born for moments like this, and had trained for them as a model and rising television star on Earth before the apocalypse cut her career short. Her voluminous dark hair floated in the breeze and she dazzled the streetside audience with her smile. She wore a crimson dress laden with gold jewelry. The crowd’s cries of adulation drowned out the musical fanfare being played as the hovercraft drifted lazily down the street. The Soran public really did worship her, and even with Asha being out of the spotlight in recent years, polling showed the planet remained united in their love for the beautiful, courageous woman from Earth. No telling what the same polls might show if Lucas publicly returned from the dead in his current grotesque state.

  Lucas froze the video and expanded his hands to zoom in. Asha’s smile was frozen. Peering closer, he knew her well enough to decipher that it was merely a mask. He’d seen her real smile. Her true smile. That smile. And this wasn’t it. This was an act, and the resolution of the video allowed him to catch a glimpse of small tears in the corner of her eyes.

  Closing the feed, Lucas saw another file on the main page of the scroll. Alpha’s message. He poked it idly and Alpha’s head rose out of the scroll once more.

  “I apologize that I have been called away to deal with this pressing problem. I have hand-selected Geneticist Tarla to continue my regimen to ensure your continued progress.”

  Lucas watched it once. Then watched it again.

  “I cannot say how long this problem will continue to draw my attention, so forgive my absence until I am able to return.”

  Lucas picked up a tone he’d missed the first time, which was easy to do with Alpha’s translator collar. Alpha sounded … hollow, almost. He watched it again.

  “Farewell, brother.”

  Alpha wasn’t that sentimental. The last time he’d said those exact words, he was leaving Lucas behind to die at the hands of the Desecrator.

  Something was wrong.

  19

  Noah woke from another nightmare. In this one, he had been lost in the flaming Dubai hotel, choking on smoke, ears filled with the screams of the dead. Back in his room, he looked around for Sakai, but she wasn’t there. She was in Kyra’s quarters, where she had been since he’d returned from Earth. The bed seemed vast without her. Colder. Noah still hadn’t gotten used to it.

  Checking the time, Noah groaned upon realizing dawn was still hours away. He considered climbing the iced stairs to the White Spire to clear his mind, but he had yet to return to the site of the massacre. Word had it the church was going to condemn the ancient temple as unholy ground because of the horrors that had taken place there. Finally, after thousands of years as a spiritual landmark, the spire would slip into ruin with no one to tend to it.

  Half an hour later, Noah’s eyes finally started to drift shut again when he was woken by a blaring tone from his communicator. He fumbled in the dark for the device and when his thumb finally found it, an image of Sakai shone out of the display in the darkness.

  “Noah,” she said, visibly on edge. “Get over here, now.”

  Noah fled from his room without even stopping to grab his thermal coat. He sprinted through the snow to Kyra’s quarters, and a trio of guards clad in ice-blasted armor waved him inside.

  Noah’s adrenaline kept him warm internally, though his skin was tinted blue even from his brief time outside. Sakai reached him and instantly recoiled at his temperature, but her mind was too preoccupied to comment on his ill-conceived wardrobe.

  “What’s wrong?” Noah said through chattering teeth. “Is Kyra okay? Are you?”

  “We’re fine,” she said. The inactive guards outside had indicated as much. “But you need to see this.”

  Noah rounded a corner and saw Kyra sitting on the edge of her bed with Erik beside her. He’d gotten out of lockup yesterday afternoon when Tannon gave up the idea that any punishment he could render would actually affect his brother’s behavior. Theta, meanwhile, had fled the colony for some unspecified “errand,” assuredly devastated by Erik’s inexcusable cruelty toward her. Noah was a little annoyed they had c
alled him, but the tears in Kyra’s eyes quickly made him forget anything else.

  “What is it?” he asked. She looked up at him and wordlessly floated a video feed from her scroll so that it expanded and hovered in the center of the room.

  The video was choppy, and entire sections of it were glitching or blacked out. The audio was distorted and alternated between mute and a high-pitched tone Noah could barely hear. But despite the quality, it was clear who was speaking. Malorious Auran. His bone-white hair had grown out and was wildly disheveled. He looked dirty, or bloody, but it was hard to tell which with the hue of the video constantly shifting.

  “Kyra, I am so sorry [static],” he began. “I tried to [static] but they [static] blocking all communications since the [static]. I know what you [static] be thinking if you have [static] truth by now. But there is more than [static] know. This is not [static] secure, and you should not try [static] find me.”

  Noah and Erik shared a worried look.

  “Do not try to find me. I [static] wanted to say good-bye, though I do not [static] when this message will reach you, or if it will. They will find me soon, but I will never let them use me to [static] to you. I will—”

  Keeper Auran looked to the side, eyes wide with fear. The feed went white.

  “Keep going,” Noah said, pointing at the floating blank space in the middle of the room.

  “That’s all there is,” Erik said. “It cuts out there.”

  “Where did it come from?” Noah said, his mind racing.

  “It’s encrypted. It almost destroyed the message to even get it to play, and there’s definitely no way to trace it to its point of origin,” Sakai said.

  “Get Theta to—” but Noah stopped mid sentence, remembering she was gods knew where right now, thanks to Erik’s crassness.