by C. C. Ekeke
And of course, there was free stuff from the megacorporations. And not useless stuff either. How else would Habraum have gotten the new SR-23 V-wing he currently flew months before its release date?
But after a month, the luminary lifestyle got tiresome. He couldn’t go anywhere in Cercidale, Terra Sollus or any other GUPR memberworld without attracting a crowd. The same went for Jennica, who had to take a special covert transport just to get to and from her teaching job on Terra Sollus. The Union Command had to create fake IDs for him just so he could get on and off GUPR memberworlds discreetly.
Now he sat in the solitude of his SR-23, dreading the moment it broke out of luminal space. He felt more trapped now than he did with the Cybernarr. Habraum shuddered at the thought.
“Trajectory to Terra Sollus completed. Preparing to break from L-Space.”
Habraum jerked forward, the computerized voice jolting him out of his reminiscence. He glanced at his navicomputer’s multicolored array to confirm. “Ah hazik!” Habraum fumed. Had it been two and a half orvs already? The lowered hum of the stellar drive engine kicked in, and he felt the ship vibrate for an instant as it reverted back to normal space. Habraum watched as the shimmering smear of light beyond his viewport broke into separate star lines, and then as those shrank into bright, distant dots. And there, at the midpoint of this starry vista lay his destination: a bluish-green sphere swaddled in feathery white.
It still wowed Habraum at how much it resembled Terra Firma, or Earth. With the exception of the higher land-to-water ratio and the shape of the continents, this planet was virtually identical. The similarities between the two worlds, coupled with Earth’s overcrowding and polluted environment, was why the Terra Firma humans had declared this planet their new homeworld almost 150 years ago. The mass relocation inspired the Terra Firma humans to rename it Terra Sollus.
As the capitalworld for the Galactic Union of Planetary Republics, Terra Sollus was a melting pot of politics, commerce, magnificent landmarks and diversity. The Union Bicameral and the GUPR Chouncilor were situated on this planet, making it the most orbital-defense heavy world in the Union.
Habraum always regarded the planet with cynical ambivalence. Despite all of Terra Sollus’s beauty and opportunity, the Cerc couldn’t get past how Earth humans basically stole the planet from its natives, the Korvenites. That was part of the reason his family chose to live on Cercidale. He only tolerated Terra Sollus due to its importance in the Galactic Union and because Jennica’s family was there.
Terra Sollus now filled up his viewport, its greenish continents looking more defined. He eased his fingers onto the flight console and shot the ship past the countless spacelanes to the planet’s surface. Every lane was back-to-back traffic, a variety of different space vessels in each trying to reach the planet.
“Ha, amateurs,” he laughed, rolling to port and rocketing toward the very edge of Terra Sollus’s nightside. This was a useful military shortcut just over the continent of Onisus that he learned about in the AeroFleet. As he expected, the space lanes over in that area were moving along rather quickly.
“Transmit your GU ID.” Habraum tapped on his comm transceiver, broadcasting the ship’s Galactic Union ID to the traffic controller station floating somewhere above orbit. The response was immediate.
“Thank You. Welcome to Terra Sollus, Wilbur Troubadour.” Habraum gritted his teeth and punched the throttle forward without a word. Wilbur Troubadour, his horrid fake ID name, was a necessary evil so he wouldn’t be stopped and extolled by traffic controllers.
Shooting through the billowy clouds, a myriad of city lights shot past several thousand pentametrids beneath him. Since he had a military-issue jet, normal speed laws were relaxed on him. The inky night bled away into lighter gold pastels of daylight. Habraum smirked, giving the ship an extra kick of speed as he approached Vesspuccia. The SR-23’s flight controls were so responsive it was scary.
Because it was Terra Firma Memorial Week, Habraum volunteered to speak for Jennica’s second-level class at Lincoln Elementary School in Conuropolis, the capital city of Vesspuccia. Because of the potential bulrush of media, Jennica tried to keep it quiet and made sure Habraum only spoke to her class. But she warned him to park in a corona wood forest about one pentametrid from the school and take his hovercycle, another free gift from Mekaal Ship Yards, and ride it the rest of the way.
“Are you sure the Union Intelligence Bureau isn’t your calling?” he had quipped with her last night when they discussed this overly meticulous plan. Presently, Habraum soared over the sprawling cityscape of Conuropolis, heading south to the city’s more suburban Corowood District, where Lincoln Elementary was. Even though Corowood was less metropolitan than the rest of Conuropolis, one could still see a similar congestion of residences spread out below, worming up the bases of the distant hills.
Once he found the corona wood forest, Habraum hit the landing thrusters (the roar was much quieter with the SR-23) and parked in the open patch surrounded by the towering, gold-leaved corona wood trees, which is how Corowood got its name. He popped open the cockpit and hopped out, taking in the vast flora around him. The noonlight sparkled off the blossoming corona wood leaves, so much so that their reflections cascaded down on the surrounding forest soil. He then unloaded his hovercycle from his jet’s underbelly storage section and blasted through the forest toward Lincoln Elementary.
Upon arriving at the school’s rear, he saw Jennica waiting for him. “Hi, you,” she ran forward and gave him a quick firm kiss on the lips. Even though it was supposed to be professional teacher’s attire, Habraum audibly marveled at how sexy she looked in a caramel pant suit with her hair in a classy twist.
“Oh relax, you walking hormone,” Jennica laughed. “My students are watching a holovid that’s about to finish, so let’s hurry.” She took Habraum by the hand, and the duo dashed inside with as much stealth as they could manage. Lincoln Elementary, a spread-out building made of azure and gold-colored ferroment, held pre-level through six-level student classes. After jogging through the empty hallways and then taking a two-flight translifter trip upstairs, they were at the entrance of her class.
“We’re here,” she turned to Habraum, clear concern in her eyes. “You sure you’re ready for this?”
He pulled her close and grinned roguishly. “I was born ready. You more than anyone should know.”
“I’m serious, Braum,” Jennica smacked his chest in frustration. She tried her best not to return his smile, but just a glance into the Cerc’s hazel-gold eyes and all her resolve went out the door. “These are second-level kids. They can be rambunctious when we have guests.”
“Sounds like the egomaniac space jockeys in my flight group,” Habraum shrugged. “So what’s the problem?” Peering through the room door’s viewport, Habraum saw the only light source coming from a large ovular holoscreen in the center of the room. It cast a pale illumination over the sixteen students inside. But what really held Habraum’s attention was the picture on the holoscreen. This imagery had been burned into his memory since he was five years old. “Let me ballpark on what they’re watching?”
“Yep, it’s the Terra Firma Massacre documentary produced by IPNN™,” Jennica said quietly. “The one the school shows every year during this week, with occasional updates.” Both fell silent as they snuck into the classroom. Jennica’s desk was in the back, while the children’s desks circled around the holoscreen in the room’s middle. Habraum moved behind Jennica’s desk, but could not take his eyes off the blue and green image of Earth on the holoscreen. The holodocumentary’s narrator became background noise as memories of that planet came rushing back with a clarity that surprised him.
Habraum had been to Earth twice as a child: once to the USA and another time to his father’s home country Nigeria. Of all the planets he had seen, the Earth visits were among his favorites.
The tragedy happened 19 years and two months ago on Avril 8th, 2375. Earth, the original homeworld of Terran human
s, was already suffocating under its own overpopulation and pollution. Ever since Earth humans had declared Terra Sollus their new homeworld 150 years prior, the telepathic Korvenites—native race to the planet—had been repeatedly kicked off their lands in favor of the expanding human and GUPR citizenry. It got to the point where the near-13 billion GUPR populace totally outnumbered the 700 million Korvenites on the planet.
By the mid-2300s, the Korvenites had had enough. The reasons were simple. Since day one, Korvenites were never given fair representation in the Galactic Union Bicameral, and the planet they once called home was no longer their own. Their acts of insurgence began with small riots on Terra Sollus. But given that this was the capitalworld of the Galactic Union, the UComm and local Regulat forces promptly contained any disorder. And then the Korvenites were given the large island country of Korvanland just so they would be silenced. Yet the land of their ancestors was no longer theirs, no longer even recognizable. Terra Sollus had been altered into the image that the GUPR wanted it to be. Rolling grasslands were now covered by megacorp plants and sprawling city-states that wormed up into the feet of the mountains. The once clear skies were now littered with arriving and departing space vessels, and an endless crawl of crisscrossing hovercar traffic made sure that one could never fully see a Rynn duskset.
This led to that one fateful morning when a dozen Korvenites sabotaged Earth’s planetary shields, accidentally filling the planet’s CO2-rich atmosphere with thaelarite in its gas state. CO2 and thaelarite gas created a toxic combustion that scorched the atmosphere and sent a poisonous inferno raining onto the surface. Over half of Earth’s populace died, the highest non-war death toll in Galactic Union history.
Because of the massacre, Earth was rendered uninhabitable. What remained of its atmosphere was now comprised of lethal toxins. Despite his young age at the time of this tragedy, Habraum never forgot what it did to his father. The relatives, the birthplace, the culture lost to him were blows that Samuel Nwosu never fully recovered from. No one found the actual Korvenites responsible, but that didn’t matter. The entire Galactic Union demanded vengeance for Earth. Within a few months, the whole Korvenite race became public enemy number one, hunted down with extreme prejudice.
Any Korvenite captured alive was whisked away to an unknown conjunction of internment camps. Habraum remembered the Union Chouncilor at the time saying, “The containment of the Korvenites is for the greater good of the Union. If just twelve can murder so many, imagine what this entire race can do.”
“Hey, are you awake there, Habraum?” A soft hand rubbed against his forearm, jolting Habraum out of his recollections. He blinked in the darkness and turned to see Jennica staring at him.
“Just thinking, Jen,” he turned away hastily. Jennica, still skeptical, thankfully didn’t push the issue.
“Lights,” she stood up as she spoke. The room lights came back on and the holoscreen completely vanished. The sixteen students in the room painted a diverse picture of what the Union represented. A pair of marooned-scaled reptoid twins that had to be Rothorids sat in the middle of the circle. Closest to Jennica’s desk was a Nnaxan girl with two writhing craniowhisks branching out of her forehead. Next to her sat a snowy-white Kintarian kitten-male scratching his arm out of boredom.
Murmurs and whispers rippled among the students. They all pointed curious glances and fingers at Habraum. “Now class, attention please,” Jennica raised her voice, adding some firmness to its tone. “I have a special guest today to speak with you about Earth Memorial Week. Say hello to Lieutenant Commander Habraum Nwosu from the Union Command AeroFleet.”
Habraum rose to his feet and strode into the circle of desks. “Hullo,” the Cerc glanced around and waved modestly at the class. The classroom went dead silent. All the students just sat there and stared.
“Class,” Jennica prodded. “Say hello to Mr. Nwosu, please.”
The students continued to sit there and stare at him. Just as Habraum looked to Jennica for some help, his eardrums practically exploded. The room erupted in joyous shrieks as the children leaped out of their desks and literally threw themselves at Habraum. He was almost knocked off his feet at the throng of children trying to embrace him, tugging at his hooded sweatshirt.
“Now, class!” Jennica darted forward, already prying some of the more enthusiastic students off her boyfriend. “Back to your seats! That’s it, keep going.” She dragged the young Kintarian kitten-male away before his flailing, prepubescent claws scratched anyone. She blew a stray lock of hair from her face while stuffing the furry boy back into his seat. When she turned to Habraum, her expression said, “I’m sorry, they’re usually better than this.” But Jennica’s surprise was clear upon seeing Habraum’s reaction.
Amid the swelling sea of children tugging at him, yelling with joy, the more undersized kids hugging his ankles since the horde of their peers prevented a hug around the waist, Habraum felt genuinely happy. It wasn’t an ambush of narrow-minded holojournalists or random bystanders invading his privacy. These were just children showing gratitude as best as they knew how. And it totally warmed Habraum’s heart.
After five or more macroms of cajoling from Jennica, her pupils finally settled back into their seats. But their animated energy still buzzed throughout the classroom. Habraum sat in front of Jennica’s desk so he could see the entire class and began the tale of how he became an AeroFleet pilot.
He started simply enough with his life as a youth on Cercidale, briefly speaking on the various planets he visited and the influences of his parents; his mother Vara, a Cercidalean kurokoos breeder and his father Samuel, a Nigerian freighter merchant. Habraum’s deep, Cercidalean lilt was captivating to the children’s ears, causing a small titter among the female younglings.
Then Habraum touched key parts of his teenage years, like the moment when he knew he wanted to make his dream of joining the AeroFleet a reality, and by then the younglings were hooked. Several students gasped in wonder and others whispered “super galactic” as Habraum described his first space dogfight in detail. By the time Habraum got to the abridged version of the Ferronos Sector War and his capture, he glanced around and was pleasantly surprised at the wide-eyed interest on the children’s faces. When he leaned back in his seat and left the story hanging, quite a few disgruntled cries rang out.
“You all want to know what happens next?” Habraum glanced around the room. The answer was unanimous and loud. The children fell silent again as he finished off the story in earnest. Habraum added an urgency to his voice as he breezed through meeting Marguliese (only calling her “a Cybernarr”) to returning to Cercidale and seeing Jennica again. Every student erupted with applause after he finished.
By the beaming look on Jennica’s face, Habraum could see why she loved teaching so much. He returned her smile eagerly and calmness spread through his heart. Jennica’s smile quickly faded when she glanced up at the elliptical chronometer on the other side of the room. “Wow, time flew. Okay class,” she rounded her desk and went to Habraum’s side. “There are only fifteen macroms left in class (loud groans from the students). So you can ask Lt. Commander Nwosu any questions you want.”
All hands shot up in unison. Most questions were the girls asking when he and Ms. Hoang were getting married, while the boys asked about flying or if his AeroFleet shoulder tattoo hurt when he got it. Habraum answered all the questions as best as he could manage, but laughed at the marriage question. He only said that they hadn’t set a date yet. Jennica, despite her professionalism, turned bright pink when the kids yelled out teasingly, “Oooh!” But the last two questions stood out in Habraum’s mind the most.
“Lieutenant Commander,” hissed Vogohnor, one of the Rothorid twins. “Sssince you have achieved ssso much in the AeroFleet, are you going to ssstay or begin another profession?”
That inquiry from one so young caught him totally off guard. “Good question, Vogohnor,” Habraum replied, nervously fingering one of his small hoop earrings. “At this poi
nt I’m weighing my options.” The truth was Habraum, despite loving AeroFleet, did want to try something new. Shooting a glance at Jennica, the Cerc knew it was something he had to consider for their future together.
“Mr. Nwosu,” it was now the Nnaxan girl. “On the news streams, I’ve seen humans get angry and say bad things about the Korvenites each year during Earth Memorial week. Do you do the same thing?”
“Not at all,” Habraum shook his head. “I’d rather remember Earth’s wonders, not its tragedies.”
“Don’t you hate the Korvenites for what they did?” asked a human boy, a frown on his pudgy face.
“Of course not,” Habraum said quietly. “It’s exhausting. My father hated the Korvenites for years.”
Habraum leaned forward and looked each student in the eye. “I blame those individuals responsible for Earth’s demise. Do any of you think it was right to imprison an entire race for the crimes of a few?”
There were several headshakes and murmurs of, “No.” Only a few, mainly the humans, nodded.
An electronic klaxon signaled the end of the school day, jolting many to their feet in a discordant shuffle of shoes. “That’s all for the day, class. Say, ‘thank you’ to Mr. Nwosu for visiting us.” The classroom rippled with an enthusiastic, “Thank you!” as they began to scamper out the door. Some came up to Habraum and shook his massive hands with as much adult-like gravity as they could muster. “Don’t forget the writing assignments about an ethnicity from Earth, due tomorrow,” Jennica called after them.
She turned to face Habraum after the last student left. “You were amazing!” Jennica squeaked in joy as she bounded up and wrapped her arms around his waist. “That went better than I could have hoped.”
“Hey, I had fun,” he shrugged, stroking her hair. “Got me thinking about having our own sprouts.”