Against the Fallen

by Devin Lee Carlson

  “None yet. You happy?”

  My gaze sank to my sneakers. “Not really.” Maybe I should rinse some of the salt away. “You raised her well. Ariane will be so proud.”

  “Zoeree will be three tomorrow and will stop aging to become immortal. Not until then will she discover her gift.”

  “Sorry, my bad. I forgot they had to reach adulthood first.” On this particular birthday, the Malakhim performed a ritual to transfer the mother or father’s memories, experiences, and wisdom, spanning generations, to their offspring. For the transference to succeed, the ritual was practiced within the portal realms. Like birth, the exchange hinged on both parents and child adopting their nonphysical form.

  “None of the Fallen have ever performed the ritual while banished on Earth. No need with all of us barren. Or so I thought.” Sabree rolled his shoulders and glanced at the ceiling. “None ever bore a child until you and Ariane. The good old A-factor. Zoeree did retain some of her mother’s memories transferred at birth.”

  “How are the party plans coming?” Always the party and event planner, Sabree took over the caterers, decorations, and prizes to be distributed. Refused my help.

  “Everything’s in order.” Sabree relaxed somewhat, his gaze distant. “As you’ve heard many times over, because of my stealth problem, I cannot bond with my daughter. That honor must wait until Ariane returns home. She can take Zoeree into the portal to perform the ceremony.”

  “So, Zoe finally agreed to let you off the hook?” My son and I had undergone the same rite a few months prior. We entered the portal to perform the brief transference. Sabree coached me on what to do, I, myself, unfamiliar with Malakhim traditions. Azrian handled the coming-of-age ritual with ease. The A-factor, donated from Athorsis and Turian, potent in my DNA, also presented itself in Azrian. But what about Zoeree? How much did she inherit from my sister? How much did my sister inherit herself?

  “She’s not happy about it, and after all the plans I made, she doesn’t want a party until her mother comes home. So, that’s it. No party tomorrow.” He leaned into my ear and tapped my mind. Our conversation switched to telepathy. “Which brings me back to Ariane. What are you going to do about her?”

  The telepathic quest kept the kids from eaves dropping on us. “According to Athorsis’s last update, Ariane has made progress, the callous insect behavior almost eradicated.”

  “That was the old message sent six months ago. Do better, Brian.”

  “I’m on it. Going to call on the badass archangel myself. And if he knows what’s good for him, he’d better answer.”

  “What makes you think he will answer to you?”

  My finger traced a huge letter A in the space between us. My superhero A-factor pedigree. I cocked my head and smirked. “Good enough answer?”

  A twisted smile formed. Not quite the Cheshire cat grin that made me feel good, but a smile just the same. “Then use it.” Sabree glanced at the kids when Azrian whooped how he beat her again. “He’s so like you. It’s uncanny.”

  “Aye, poor lad.” Azrian’s features confirmed Sabree’s opinion. Had it not been for the exotic eyes that his human mother, Azumi, passed on to our son, Azrian could be my twin. The chandelier overhead cast a luster to his cobalt-black, silky hair. Long, thick eyelashes framed eyes the color of a sunset. A heartbreaker, my son could win the hearts of any woman he desired. The way Zoeree stared at him left me wondering if she wished the two shared more than friendship. To my relief, Azrian considered himself her protector, a big brother.

  My lips puffed in the usual pout. “So, no party tomorrow.” I gave in and shrugged when Sabree shook his head again. “Guess, it’s best. At least Ariane won’t miss her daughter’s coming of age party. Good man, Sabree.” In a hurry to chase down Athorsis, I left before anything else was exchanged between us. According to Sabree’s glare, I was in enough trouble. A fixer upper of nothing these days.

  40

  SAM I AM THEN

  A riane privately observed her tenth anniversary on Harmonyville, the name she dubbed planet unknown, dimension unknown, and galaxy unknown. Not that it mattered, no one else celebrated birthdays or anniversaries. Not here anyways. Every year forward filled her with more worry. Just a little bit.

  The Teachers told her she’d be done with her lessons in a few months. The problem? What if Athorsis purposely messed up her return date. She dreaded the thought of missing her daughter’s childhood—only three short years. The longer she stayed, the more she worried the archangel would screw up.

  If not for the lessons placed inside her mind to study at her pace, Ariane might have gone mad from loneliness. Non-corporeal, the Teachers used telepathy. The students communicated with a designated universal language interpreter that automatically made all words understandable. Other corporeal beings like herself made an acquaintance, but nothing came of it—no friendships. The deep aloneness shrouded her. She longed for Sabree even though their relationship hit a rocky road. She missed Brian. “Where are you?” she asked him telepathically. “Is this anonymous world too far from your reach?” For the past decade, she tried once a day to communicate with him. She never gave up.

  The bleak, simply furnished room amplified her sorrow. The Teachers frowned upon and confiscated all personal effects on arrival day much like a penitentiary. Some beings had them, some didn’t, so the Teachers took everything to keep students equal, only to be returned on departure day. She couldn’t recall what they had taken from her except for her star locket and the clothes she wore on the day Athorsis whisked her away from the garden maze.

  The colorful gardens on Harmonyville easily surpassed the maze. She glanced outside and decided to enjoy a private celebration in her favorite spot. The entire planet was one huge garden, complete with mountains, forests, and lakes. No cities except for this teaching community constructed for corporeal beings.

  Outside, Ariane squinted until her eyes adjusted to the bright day. A glance skyward showed no evidence of an actual sun. Where the light shone from remained a mystery. The Teachers never spoke about the sun and this world, and the sparse lessons divulged little information. This unique world harbored millions upon billions of diverse creatures, plants, and strange light anomalies too many to explain in one lesson. Perhaps the Teachers concentrated more on healing her mind rather than filling it to appease her curiosities.

  A gentle breeze carrying a multitude of sweet flora embraced her. Fragrances of honeysuckle and apple pie breezed by. She breathed deep. All around, the blossoms, some as large as a basketball, flaunted an array of colors. Blues, pinks, and lavender dotted the garden. Yellow highlights sparkled like glittering diamonds. Green of every hue sprouted overall. Oddly enough, after all these years, she still couldn’t get over the absence of red. No red flowers, birds, or insects.

  Even with the color red amiss, Ariane had never witnessed any place on Earth this vibrantly colorful. A whimsy garden came to mind. Insects of every species imaginable including fairies swarmed the plant life. Their buzzing, musical to the ears, jingled in the garden like wind chimes. Birds, too many to count, flew on and off the branches. Their songs added to the humming symphony. The fantastical backdrop offered the perfect decor for any party.

  The make-believe memory the Teachers offered her to celebrate, eat cake, and open a present or two waited for her to initiate. As with the lessons, they inserted the memory bubble into her mind. Ariane tapped her head. Similar to virtual reality minus the wireless electronics, all she had to do was concentrate and the party would begin. Her usual bench was empty, so she sat down.

  “Ouch!”

  Something lumpy wiggled underneath her backside. Ariane sprang to her feet. “What the—” She leaned over to examine the pad. Her eyes grew wide when the floral design rippled. She stumbled back, this time squealing in surprise. “Who’s there? This is my bench.” She took a few tentative steps forward and reached out to touch the spot. Nothing there, perfectly flat. Then the pattern fluctuated on the opposit
e end of the bench.

  “No my on this planet. I sit here. I please.”

  “Oh my, a talking bench. What are you?” A fond memory from long ago sparked to the day she first met Sabree inside the maze. He pretended to be a ghost by haunting Brian and her. She missed seeing him mist onto the bench and inadvertently sat in his lap. Her flesh tingled. My God, I miss him.

  “Not a bench, human.” A teal spider covered in bright dots the color of candy-apple materialized. The creature measured a foot in body length and another foot in appendages, all six of them scrunched under its body. Glowing amber eyes matched her own.

  “Beautiful!” Ariane gasped. “It’s been ten years since I’ve seen anything red. Your spots are mesmerizing.” Her fingers hovered over it, wishing to touch each one. “Well, if you insist on sharing my bench, do you have a name? I’m Ariane.”

  The spider buzzed as if thinking. “Samminosous.”

  Ariane giggled. The spider must’ve used the universal language interpretation of his or her name. “That’s a mouthful. May I shorten it to Sam?”

  Sam wiggled as its legs danced in place. His red spots fluoresced. “I like Sam. Sam I am then.” He quickly settled until they dimmed. “This world not like red. Color of my spots. Never saw the same. Not anywhere. Have you?”

  “No. Is the color forbidden?” The quick short sentences made her smile. Sweet and short because of his language or because of the interpretation?

  “No Teacher complained. Make me wonder. Not like trouble. Behavior forbidden. On my world.” Sam leaned a little closer to her and glanced around. “We alone. May ask a question?”

  Ariane bent closer. “Ask away if it’s not too personal.”

  “Teachers? Do you like?” Sam’s beady eyes bobbled in place. “Nonphysical form is bothersome. Yes? No? Bother me some.” He giggled in his own way, a fast-repeating hiccup sound. “Teachers not sit on Sam.”

  Returning the contagious giggle, Ariane shrugged. The Teachers intrigued her the first week, after which, she thought nothing of their non-corporeal form. The ameba-like beings reminded her of giant floating lava lamp bubbles, except instead of splitting into oily globs, the Teachers consisted of flickering light; their radiance oscillated from bright to dim. When a small bubble of light broke off, it meant lesson time. “Definitely superior beings. But I’m more interested in you. Does your species have genders? If so, are you male or female? I’m female.”

  “Male.” Sam concentrated before he answered, “Sam represent my species. Learn to understand all creatures. Ones on our world. Ones on other worlds. Want to be sure. We only intelligent species.”

  Her hand covered her mouth to suppress a gasp. “I’m here for the same exact reason, well almost. We have insects on our planet smaller than you. I can change into any kind I wish, but I could not comprehend their minds, their intellect.”

  “Change into a Sam?”

  “Yes,” Ariane said as she glanced around, “but I don’t know if I’m allowed to yet. The Teachers never forbade me from transforming while here; yet, I sense they may have reservations.” Ariane wiggled a finger near his front leg. She jumped when he poked her hand.

  “You eager to touch. Me. Stroke my back. Body coated in fine hair. Camouflage me. Even to you.” The leg he poked her with touched her again and mirrored the color of her skin.

  “Amazing. We have geckos on Earth that disguise themselves in the same way. They don’t have fine hair though. You’re so soft.”

  The spider purred a thrumming low-pitch sound much like a light snore. “Your touch soothing.” He continued to snore until she stopped. “We be friends?”

  “I’d like that.” She closed her eyes and smiled. Friendship. The best gift ever. No need for the anniversary bubble now. When her eyes blinked open, Sam floated—no flew—in front of her. His entire body glowed the same amber color of her eyes. She sat straight. Two wings attached to his back twittered like leaves flapping in the wind. They vibrated like hummingbird wings but much slower. “Wow! You can fly.” A drone came to mind.

  He flitted around her head and landed in her lap. “We sit for time?”

  “Of course.” Although a friendly oversized spider, her brother would still freak. She continued to stroke his fur and let his thrumming soothe her into a restful meditation. The teachers had insisted all who stayed here, learn the skill. Ariane imagined herself morphing into a female version of Sam. Maybe soon.

  3 3 3

  Weeks had flown by. Every moment away from lessons and sleep, Ariane spent with her new companion. He seemed like a brother, reminded her of Brian in ways she could not figure out. Maybe because both were stubborn and curious. Sam asked too many questions. Then again, so did she. Today, her lessons shortened, she decided to morph into a female version of Sam. The excitement too much to bear, she ate a quick meal of processed vegetable protein and donned her simple opalescent robe. On Harmonyville, she no longer required blood, Colton tabs, or sweets. Cravings for canned frosting still popped up once in a while.

  Ariane meandered through the garden, dressed and her appetite somewhat appeased. No one hurried or displayed excitement in the learning community. Only calmness and harmony prevailed here. Ariane and Sam always met in the garden at their favorite bench. The area rarely attracted other students. The garden empty, Ariane hoped to fly like Sam. Together they could explore the gardens beyond the pathway.

  Her hands clasped in front, Ariane approached the bench and bowed slightly in respect when a Teacher floated by, leading several first-time students on a tour. The new students gawked at everything. She recalled doing the same and still did to this day, enchanted by the world’s diverse splendor.

  The bench was unoccupied. To double-check, Ariane brushed the fabric before she sat, unwilling to squash her friend. She patted the entire bench seat next. Sam had not arrived yet, so she sat on the left side as always. A few students smiled at her as they passed by, but she pretended to be deep in her studies. Empty minutes ago, the garden seemed busier than usual. Just her luck, and only because she longed to morph. Something she hadn’t done in ages—a frown marred her features. “Sam?”

  “Sam I Am. You excitable. Upset?”

  Excited indeed as if she relived the little girl in a toy shop. “Where have you been?” Ariane leapt up to greet him as he flitted around her head. “I feared you weren’t coming.” She gently squeezed his version of spider cheeks. “Today’s the day I morph into a creature like you. Hey, you never told me what your kind is called.”

  His eyes buzzed from side to side. “Too long word to speak. So say JoJo.” Sam flew around until he landed on the bench. “Sam wait here.”

  “It will only take me a second to turn into a JoJo.” Ariane giggled, unable to imagine the real word. She glanced around and tensed when she spied a student entering the dorm. No one else in sight, Ariane squeezed her eyes shut and focused on the creature she imagined in her mind—a female JoJo with spots. An insect-type creature with a sense of humor and human-like knowledge. Quite the combination. So much like Brian.

  “Wow!” Sam jumped up and down on the bench, his body translucent like a neon sign, his red spots pulsating. “Beautiful!”

  “Sam approves, does he?” Ariane-JoJo skittered to the nearest garden pool and glanced at her reflection. She emulated what she often took as Sam’s version of a smile. One he so often expressed. Never before, could she speak a complex language while morphed into an insect. “This is so cool!” Ariane danced around on all six legs. Again, she looked into the pool and this time noticed her red spots. “Sam, get down here and show me how to fly. We may not have much time.”

  “Teachers know all. Watching us now. Yes?” Sam sprang off the bench, landed next to her, and skittered in place. “Long time I see a JoJo. A cute one.”

  Not good. Ariane hoped the morph would not cause a hormonal spike in her platonic friend. “How long?”

  “Twenty-five years.” His tentacles sagged.

  Sadness? Ariane patted h
is cheek with her front leg. “Will they send you back to your own time? They promised me that they would.” Athorsis vowed the same, but why go there?

  “Yes. I miss family. My mate and,” Sam paused to think, “two-hundred offspring. Last count anyway. JoJos one mate for lifespan. Like Earth’s swans.”

  “So, you’ve been studying the planet I’m from?”

  All six legs began to vibrate as Sam performed his usual nervous dance. “Yes.”

  Ariane imitated the dance. “I don’t mind. I’m flattered, but it’s not really my world per se. My mother’s, yes, but not my father’s.” But which father? She imagined her back opening up to release her wings. Nothing happened. She looked to Sam for help. His version of a spidery frown told her what she already knew. “I can’t fly?”

  “Males fly only.” He tilted his head. “To protect families. Homes from invaders. Not exist now. We rid aggressive emotions.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed without learning about your world. Do you mind if I learn more?”

  “Please.” Sam skittered over to her discarded robe. “Jump inside here. Sam carry you across garden.”

  “You’re a genius, Sam!” Ariane jumped into the robe. She thrummed with excitement while he gathered the edges to make an inverted parachute. Her thrums squealed when he lifted her off the ground with ease. “Weeee!”

  3 3 3

  The last six weeks of her lessons were completed. The Teachers told her the time had come to prepare for her departure. She thought of only one preparation and asked Sam to meet her in the garden tomorrow one last time. Her throat squeezed. Excited beyond reason to go home, she dreaded saying good-bye to Sam. Her good friend had taught her so much in so little time. A godsend, he taught her to understand the insect world in his own whimsy way. From the beginning, from her first morph, she had taken the insect mindset too seriously. Out thought it short of a breakdown.