The Kota

by Sunshine Somerville

  Trok ignored them and knelt before his crying niece. “I’m so sorry, Loree. I know what you’ve been through, and I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop it from happening. I don’t know if you can remember-”

  “You look exactly the same.” She lifted her head to face Trok with tear-filled eyes. “I remember everything. You let me go. Mom pulled me back from the lights. The drones burned our camp and killed Dad and Zada. They slaughtered everybody. Mom carried me away to another part of the forest. She hid us because the Dominion wanted us both dead?”

  Trok nodded.

  She took a breath. “Veda took care of me. She loved me. Then Cruelthor’s drones came and took me away. Cruelthor always told me Mom willingly sent me to the Dominion, and I never questioned it. My lying brother raised me like a prized pet that he didn’t entirely trust. He made me do horrible things, and he knew I’d never know the truth.”

  “I’m so sorry,” said Trok. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t ever change anything. I tried… I’m sorry.”

  Zaak looked at his uncle. It was becoming clearer exactly how much Trok had been burdened with all these years.

  She looked up at Matsuri. “Did you know the truth? About my mother?”

  “No. I swear, Bulls, I would’ve told you if I’d known. I would’ve dragged you out of the Dominion with me if I’d known any of this.”

  To Zaak’s surprise, she spoke gently to him. “You really are my brother, aren’t you?”

  “Half-brother, yeah.”

  Her eyes had ceased streaming, but she didn’t wipe her cheeks. “I don’t deserve anything you’re offering me. My life, the things I’ve done… The rebels would never have me. I’d have nowhere to go.” She hung her head. “I was ready to let Cruelthor factor me.”

  “You’re worth more than you think,” said Trok. “We can help you heal. I know it won’t be easy, but you need to forgive yourself-”

  Her head snapped up.

  “-and move on. We’re offering you a new life. Sometimes the easiest way to forgive ourselves is to see that everything we’ve done and everything we’ve gone through is part of a bigger picture. Your own life looks bleak, but you’re destined for greatness. Trust me.”

  She dropped her face into her hands again and let out a deep sigh.

  “I know what you’ve been through,” Trok continued. “I know you’re afraid to leave the Dominion because you think you have no other purpose. That’s what Cruelthor’s always wanted you to believe. But, ever since you were a kid, you’ve had questions about who you really are. It all started when you began to wonder what that Mark on your arm really means. You thought the Kota prophecies were nonsense, but you feel a stirring inside that you can’t explain, don’t you?”

  Without responding, she stood and walked to the one-way mirror. She reached her hand over her shoulder and touched her Mark, tracing it with a finger. The interest Zaak had seen in her once again surfaced. “Everything about the Kota is coming back to me, now that my memory’s jogged. Dad taught me… I remember people staring at me and discussing the Mark Prophecy. That’s the same prophecy I heard about in the Dominion, isn’t it?”

  Trok nodded.

  “I think Edlyn, my Youth instructor, was trying to tell me about the prophecy before… before she died.” She faced her ex-Dominion friend. “Did you know about this prophecy stuff?”

  Matsuri shook his head. “Edlyn never said a word to me.”

  Desire evident in her expression now, she looked at Trok. “So I’m supposed to lead the Warriors, since you believe I’m the Leader of the prophecy? That’s because I’m the oldest with the Mark?”

  “Yes. I know you’ve always believed you’re meant to lead – that part of your ambition is a pure thing. Zaak has always wanted to hunt for adventure and purpose and duty. Trust me that the Seer sees and the Fighter fights. I’m your Bearer, and I never felt as right as I did when your father handed you and Zaak over to me. Somehow, the prophecies fit, don’t they?”

  Her eyes darted between the three men as she thought this over. She looked compliant now.

  Is this just an act? thought Zaak. She is that good… But, no. Something’s truly changed in her. She looks almost timid now, not arrogant.

  He couldn’t wait any longer. “So are you willing to give this a shot? Leave the Dominion? Join me and help me form the Warrior team? It’ll take a lot of work. But it’ll change everything.”

  She took a deep breath. This must’ve been a difficult decision, and even Zaak gave her time. Finally, she returned to her uncle and reached uncertainly for Trok’s outstretched hand.

  “I can’t promise to be perfect, but thank you for rescuing me from my life.” She made a strange grin at Trok. “You’re my substitute priest.”

  Zaak didn’t know what that last part meant, but he got the gist. He let out a puff of air he’d been holding and looked to see that Matsuri stood grinning.

  “I’m your Bearer, Loree,” said Trok as he held her hand, “but much more than that I’m your uncle. I know this’ll be a hard adjustment to make, but I’m here. Always. I promise you that.”

  Apparently not knowing what else to do, she gave him a quick, “Thanks.”

  Trok released her hand and smiled, then walked to the door. In a louder voice, he said, “Come, Matsuri. I’ll take you back to Solarus 5. Loree and Zaak need time to themselves.”

  Matsuri looked at his old friend, who smiled and told him they’d talk later. Then, Matsuri followed Trok out, leaving Zaak alone with his sister.

  When the door shut, Zaak shuffled on his feet while Loree returned to her chair. He stood silent, watching her while she appeared to take no notice of him. It was fresh on his mind that a short time ago she’d spit at him, and he had no idea how she’d behave now.

  Just when Zaak thought he’d crack from the silence, she sighed and rose from the chair. “I’m not very good at civility. How do we do this?”

  “Do what?”

  “Talk. Get along. I can’t do much of either unless I’m undercover.” She rolled her eyes. “Sorry I’ve been a nightmare. I’ll try to be better. You have no idea what a flushed mess I am.”

  “My people skills aren’t great either. We’ll both have to learn.” He smiled, hoping to put her at ease. “How are you doing with all this? I don’t really know how to decipher how you’re taking things in.”

  “Don’t feel bad – few people know how to decipher how I take things in.” She stared into middle distance in thought. “I guess it’s time I started learning honesty, so I’ll tell you. Over the past few days, I’ve worried about Cruelthor factoring me if he finds me. All I’m focusing on now is that you’re offering me a new life. At the moment, I’m not thinking about this prophetic mission to save the world. I’m doing this to save myself. But Trok’s right about how this seems so right. I’ve felt for a long time that I was supposed to be doing something I wasn’t, you know? I’ll try to snap out of self-preservation mode and learn about our mission, but it might take time.”

  He nodded. “I’ll help however I can.”

  She smirked and made an obvious change in topic. “You’re a tad bigger and louder than I remember. You were a fat baby. Strange how it’s all coming back to me now that I’ve seen Trok. Maybe this is my shot to have a real relationship with blood relatives. The others haven’t gone so well.”

  “What about Beathabane? I know he was exiled before you were brought to the Dominion, but did you ever meet him? I hear he’s a really good man. Nothing like his twin, of course.”

  She shook her head. “No, I’ve never met Beathabane.”

  Zaak scratched his chin in thought. “In truth, it might be hard even for me to find Beathabane. His Hood rebels are based on the Mainland, but they’re pros at staying under the radar. Still, it was Beathabane who helped Matsuri escape the Dominion, right? Matsuri might be able to get you in contact with him.”

  She sighed. “I’m not ready to meet Beathabane. I’ve had enough reunions for now.”

>   Zaak smiled, again to put her at ease. “I can understand that. But, hey, maybe we’ll get to work with him someday. The Hood could always use our help. Cruelthor doesn’t care much about the Underground because he always defeats them, but he hates the Hood. From what I’ve heard, Cruelthor is set on making a fool of Beathabane. He’s obsessed.”

  “He’s possessed.”

  “Tomato; tomahto.”

  “What?”

  Zaak remembered he’d only heard the expression from Trok. This was a problem he’d dealt with repeatedly since moving to Earth. “Oh, sorry. Tomatoes were a vegetable centuries ago. They’re extinct now. You’ve never heard that saying?”

  “The Dominion educational system is thorough, but it doesn’t cover idioms about extinct vegetables.”

  “Actually,” Zaak mused, “Tomatoes might’ve been a fruit. Whatever they were, they were wiped out when the original Dominion tyrant came to power and took over the greenhouses. He didn’t like tomatoes, so he got rid of them.”

  “Like I really care what a tomato was.” She smiled. “You are odd. You’re suave and diplomatic one minute, overly zealous and out of touch the next.”

  He crossed his arms and jabbed right back without thinking. “And you’re a manic nut job.”

  “Oh,” she laughed in admiration, “and you’re perceptive!”

  Zaak then realized she considered his oddity to be a positive trait.

  Huh, he thought. Maybe she’s just trying to reach out. Is it possible she’s even worse with people than I am?

  She continued smirking at him. “So, we’re supposed to save humanity, huh?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, whenever you’re ready.”

  “Hmm. A brainwashed, ex-Dominion assassin and a socially impaired crusader. Humanity is flushed.”

  Zaak laughed again. Getting the hang of this, he was starting to enjoy her now. “Trok says the other two Warriors are relatively normal and will bring balance to the team. He’s been watching after them for a long time, but he hasn’t told me much.”

  Or anything, he thought.

  She looked around the cell. “So what is this place?”

  Zaak glanced at the gene-repressor she still wore and figured he’d be safe to give a tour. So, he turned to lead her out of the holding cell to the passageway. When they were out, the Kandoya siblings walked down the hall in the direction of the training facilities. She kept pace with his steady gait easily. Walking along, Zaak watched to see how she liked the place. Her face betrayed nothing, but she looked through each doorway they passed.

  “You’ll have to explain all this several times, I think,” she told Zaak as they turned a corner. “I remember what Dad taught me about the Kota, but I also remember wondering why everyone treasured me. I thought being spoiled and bratty started in the Dominion, but seeds might’ve been planted earlier.” She made a face. “There are other things I don’t understand either. For starters, I’d like to know how Uncle Trok knows everything about my life. Also, why does he look exactly the same as he did when I was six?”

  “Explaining Trok could take a while.” Zack chuckled. Then he thought of something. “So you remember our father?”

  “Yeah.” She looked at him with an expression close to tenderness. “I remember Zada, your mom, too.”

  Zaak nodded and watched his footsteps as they walked down the hall. He felt a swell of emotions he hadn’t expected. Then he shook it off and focused on his sister.

  She’s the one who needs attention right now, he thought.

  “Well,” he said, “I’ll tell you about Trok and what he and I’ve done together. We’ve had some crazy adventures, but most of it was for the sake of preparing me to find you and the other Warriors. Now that it’s my turn to play teacher, I’ll tell you all about our Kota mission. I know you think I hero-worship Trok – and I probably do – but everything he’s taught me about life and our faith is important. You need to accept the cause of our mission before you even think about ordering me around, okay? This prophetic mission is something I’ve learned to take very seriously. This is all part of something bigger than you or me. You need to accept why we’re fighting before I turn over command to you.”

  “Deal. I’ll try not to slay you if you get on my nerves.”

  Zaak snapped his head to look at her, but again she was unreadable. Was she joking? He thought not.

  “Yeah,” he said. “That’s what we’ll work on first.”

  They arrived at the training facilities and walked into the front gym. This was a well-lit, mat-covered room with training weapons along one wall. Zaak watched her reaction as she strolled along the wall inquisitively. She looked comfortable now, as if inside the gym she was in her element.

  I know she’s well-trained, thought Zaak. This might be a helpful point of connection between us. She’s in excellent shape… Almost makes me wish I’d had Dominion training.

  “You said Trok trained you?”

  “It’s complicated. He took me to different parts of time, and I learned different forms of combat. I know a blend of techniques, but no one set style. I can use any weapon I get my hands on, though.”

  She looked at him over her Marked shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “Did you say ‘different parts of time,’ Zaak?”

  “It’s a long story. I’ll explain later.”

  Her face suggested she’d like to hear more now, but she distracted herself by looking at the weapons. She slid a finger over a ten-inch knife with a hand guard and handle that ran perpendicular to the blade. “What’s this? I’ve never seen one, and I’m betting I’ve had just as much weapons training as you.”

  “That’s one of my katars. They’re my babies. You should’ve seen the imperial bodyguard I fought to get them. Trok let me take the katars on one of our final history lessons.”

  That sounds absurd, he thought. Sand, how odd am I?

  A tad critically, she checked his physique. “Do you know ninjutsu? You have the body for it. Ninjutsu is my specialty. That and kickboxing. I never really got into much else.”

  “That’s a shame.”

  She smirked. “I mean, I never needed to.”

  Zaak smiled and looked over at the sparring mats. “If you don’t mind, I’d love to see how well-trained you really are. I can’t take the gene-repressor off just yet. I hope you can accept that. I don’t fully trust you and need to give myself an advantage if you turn on me. Will you spar with me, though?”

  “Fine by me. My mutate-genes are mostly used so I don’t have to fight hand-to-hand. Sniper work, and all that.” She pointed her fingers like guns and clicked her tongue. “Combat fighting is something I do mostly without MOB skills.”

  That reminded him. “What do your mutate-genes enhance, anyway? Trok only told me they’re powerful and that you get the same tingling, burning sensation I do when I use mine.”

  “You feel that too?”

  “Yeah, whenever I really focus my enhanced senses. Trok says the sensation has something to do with how we’re chosen Warriors. We have a connection to the space dimension that no one else has. The power pulsing there makes us stronger – it’s the power Cruelthor knew you had. It’s a gift we’ve been given. Trok says there are signs throughout history that others have had the gift, but no one before the discovery of the space dimension knew how it worked scientifically. Now, Trok says knowing about the space dimension doesn’t make the gift any less incredible.”

  “Hmm. I always thought the sensation was from the radiation in mutate-genes.” She raised an eyebrow. “If it has something to do with being a Warrior, that’s probably why Cruelthor hid my med files all those years ago.” She glared at nothing in particular. “I’ll bet he knew about my birthmark, too. Lying bastard.”

  Zaak nodded supportively. “What do your mutate-genes enhance?”

  “Well, ever since I was a little girl, I’ve had perfect hand-eye coordination. We’re similar in that way, if you say you have enhanced senses. MOB families usually have similar mutat
e-genes.”

  Zaak thought of a few MOB brothers he’d met and realized this was true.

  “When I entered the Dominion, I started dematerializing my body. Actually, I don’t think that ability comes from mutate-genes because I always feel the tingling sensation outside my body when I dematerialize. If the sensation is from a power in the space dimension…” She tapped the gene-repressor around her neck. “These things work by controlling the radiation in mutate-genes, so I thought it would stop me. I didn’t even try. But, if dematerializing uses the space dimension’s power and not mutate-gene radiation…”

  Zaak jumped as she flickered in reddish light and then was gone. Simply gone. The gene-repressor dropped to the floor.

  Sand! he thought in a panic.

  But she materialized again where she’d stood. “Interesting.” She knelt, picked up the gene-repressor, and handed it to him. “Here. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “How’d you do that?”

  “It slipped off while I wasn’t altogether.” She smiled and rolled her eyes. “Somehow, I can slip into the space dimension so I’m not visible or tangible in ordinary dimensions. And, when my matter fills the space around things, I can move solid objects by pushing against them – it looks and kind of feels like reverse polarity. Anyway, when I return to visible form, I’m always the same physically as I was before I dematerialized. It’s not like I can get shot, dematerialize, and then come back uninjured. I honestly can’t explain it very well.”

  Zaak was a little jealous. “Strange.”

  “Yep, but I’ve had other things to worry about.”

  Zaak nodded. He tossed the gene-repressor aside, rubbed his hands together, and led her to the sparring mats. “Shall we?”

  “Ready when you are.”

  Zaak watched her every move, studying her the way Trok had taught him. How strong was she? How quick? Could he beat her?

  14

  “More than hiding”

  Outside time

  Understatement: I was relieved Loree and Zaak were joined.