by C. C. Ekeke
The two Brigadiers glared at each other in a stinging silence, which wasn’t really noiseless given the loud hovercar and sentient traffic around them. This wasn’t the first time they had debated this matter, but in public was hardly the forum to continue.
“Whatever,” Sam waved a dismissive hand. “I’m going to be late for my thing.” She turned and strode down the pathway without another word. Honaa stared after her as she disappeared into the crowd.
Honaa pushed the whole Korvenite debacle from his thoughts, focusing only on Star Brigade and Habraum Nwosu’s potential return. The Rothorid sissed with laughter at the irony; the Brigade’s future now in the hands of his former protégé who’d quit a year ago. “You better sssucceed, Sssam,” he hissed quietly, tearing his gaze from where his fellow Brigadier was standing. With that, Honaa turned left onto the pathway and headed toward the UComm shuttle bay.
2.
Five whole macroms had passed. The two hadn’t so much as flinched or blinked—totally focused on their uninterrupted staring contest. The much larger of the two was a yosk, which stood stock-still on the grassy turf that was its home. Many nature enthusiasts believed the yosk was related to the bison and the water buffalo of Old Earth, mainly for its broad head and high-humped shoulders. Others thought it was closer to an elephant because of its scything grey tusks and tree trunk-like feet. Children just got a kick out of the creature’s unusually squashed face; it looked like it had run face-first into a wall.
Regardless, it was a staple of Terra Sollus—particularly the Oklorada Basin in the country of Vesspuccia. Somewhat hidden in the yosk’ black shag of hair was a pair of cavernous blue eyes. Through its forcefield, the yosk glared at its equally determined adversary. A seven-year-old named Jeremy Nwosu.
At first glance Jeremy looked like a young version of his father, mainly the way his deep-set hazel-grey eyes drank in the universe around him. After careful scrutiny, the differences between father and son were more evident. The boy’s curly shock of black hair for starters, the lighter complexion in his brown skin. Some of these differences, like the slight almond-shape of his eyes and the flatter nose came from Jeremy’s late mother, an earthborn woman of Sino-Xibetanese descent.
Currently, Jeremy and the gigantic yosk male were faced off in an intense staring contest. The young boy was standing on the tip of his heels, while the yosk stood on all four of its hoofed feet and still towered the boy by over a metrid and a half. Despite the dryness burning at his eyes, the boy still did not blink. The deep, crystal blue of the yosk’ eyes filled his entire world and was his entire focus.
“Outstaring the yosk” was an age-old dare that children had played since Habraum Nwosu was a youngster on Cercidale, and had taught his own son. As he stood a metrid away leaning his shoulder against a column break in the forcefield, Habraum watched proudly as Jeremy turned teachings into deed.
The six-foot-five Cercidalean sported a bald head and trim goatee along with a single white-jeweled stud in each ear. He donned a blue vintage t-shirt and grey loose-fitting denims, the casual style of someone well acquainted with public attention and trying to avoid it. His clothes were easily filled out by an athletic physique balanced between rangy and powerfully-built. Habraum fingered one of his earrings, amused at his son’s tenacity. But that was all he could do, as Jeremy requested silence.
This was the third time in two weeks that Habraum had taken Jeremy to the Corowood Interplanetary Zoo, the second largest zoo on the planet, right in the heart of Conuropolis’ more suburban Corowood District. No zoo in the Mynar System could match the diversity of this one, more than two million species of animals, all in an identical reproduction of each creature’s natural environment. Habraum was a bit worried to be overindulging the lad with so many zoo trips. At the same time, Jeremy had earned this reward of late for his consistently top marks in school and good behavior.
The Oxophas Valley, Jeremy’s favorite part, was a copper-hued dome building near the eastern edge of the zoo and held acres of rolling grasslands, similar to the yosk’s native Oklorada Basin. A force field lined the corridors, surrounding and cutting through the fields for visitors to view the oxophae safely.
Habraum stayed in the moment for his son, proud at how easy it came for him now. But in the back of his mind, another small triumph gave him even greater pause.
Today was the first Corowood Zoo visit without the lie. That one lie he’d been telling himself for months, to not feel guilty over enjoying Jeremy’s company.
In this lie, Habraum’s late wife Jennica was merely feeling too ill for the zoo trip that had been the family’s monthly ritual. And she would be waiting for them at home on the other side of the globe. Also part of this little white lie, Habraum wasn’t on indefinite sabbatical from Star Brigade, just on shore leave visiting his family. But today he forced himself to own the hole in his heart—the gaping, searing hole left by the loving wife he saw too little of, and the organization he’d dedicated too much of himself to. And despite how jarring the reality of his emptiness, Habraum Nwosu was still standing.
The Cercidalean’s attention was jerked back to the present by the unblinking yosk’s sudden, baying whoop. Jeremy jumped back in surprise, blinking, and quickly realized his mistake.
“NO!” Jeremy cried, beside himself with boyish fury. “The yosk cheated!” he declared with his diluted Cercidalean brogue. He pointed angrily at the guilty party, who was busy licking at the forcefield.
“Sorry sprout.” Habraum playfully mussed up Jeremy’s curly hair. His face literally hurt from holding back laughter over this ‘dilemma.’ “I warned you that yosk distract while they stare, lad.”
“You have blasting powers, aren’t you gonna do something?”
“Ya think I’m getting into a throwdown with that?” Habraum guffawed, jabbing a thumb at the massive beast. “Come on, then. You can outstare him next time.” He turned on his heel to leave. But Jeremy, stubborn like a bull, dashed straight for the yosk, which now scratched itself.
“I want a rematch with him. He cheat—Aah!”
Catching him by the scruff of his shirt, Habraum effortlessly hoisted Jeremy up in the air with one arm. “No rematch, we’re leaving, sprout.”
Jeremy thrashed and flailed his limbs, but it was useless. “Not fair! Why do we have to leave?”
“My stomach said so,” Habraum said matter-of-factly. The boy still threw some nasty fits when denied something he wanted. But months of experience had made Habraum an expert on how to tame such episodes. He set his son down so that he could look him in the eyes. “Besides, is out-staring a yosk worth keeping your Auntie Sammie waiting?”
The mere mention of ‘Aunt Sammie’ caused Jeremy to nearly burst at the seams with joy. “Auntie Sammie! Yay!!” Habraum, feeling the same way, felt his own smile stretch from ear to ear. It had been far too long since he had last seen his former colleague, and she’d given the Cerc two and a half indignant earfuls about how long it had been when they set time to meet today. Taking Jeremy by the hand, father and son moved through the maze of corridors in Oxophas Valley until they reached the exit.
This scene would have been a fairytale vision just over a year ago. After leaving the Brigade…and losing Jenn, bad days were all we both knew. Habraum had made the impulsive decision of fleeing Union borders with Jeremy to the exotic menagerie of non-Union worlds in the Libratta System. At the time, Habraum couldn’t see the willing support system of family and friends he was leaving behind. A towering, insurmountable grief had infected every part of his being, down to his very marrow. All he had wanted was an escape from any reminders.
Jeremy had been a terror those first few months; the adamant refusals to follow instruction, the explosive tantrums, the tearful incapability to grasp why his mother or his new baby sister were never returning. And Habraum, out of his depth as a parent and out of his mind with grief, at times had secretly wished he had left the boy with his grandparents on red rocky Cercidale. Habraum still recoil
ed from that former desire like one would a healing scab.
Things began to turn around after a few months, particularly when they returned to the familiar settings of Union Space. The good days slowly began to outnumber the bad. Before long, Habraum began to discover what a wonderful child he had as they learned to be father and son.
It had been a long string of good days over the last couple of months; they now had a routine. Jeremy readily recognized Habraum as the primary parent, present for all the milestones, not the cool dad with an infrequent existence in his life when off-duty. And Habraum had gotten the swing of being a single father—despite never wanting to get the swing of walking this journey alone.
He looked up and smiled at the pale-blue sky overhead, unspoiled by any clouds. In its center, the star Rhyne shined like a radiant ball of bullion, quickly warming Habraum’s dark brown skin once he and Jeremy stepped outside. Habraum walked briskly through the greyish ferroment walkways with Jeremy in tow. Many sentient beings were milling about today and observing the variety of animals in their natural environments. A Kintarian, with short grey fur and pointy ears stood at a petting kiosk, hungrily eyed a frightened little rhomerax curled up in a furry red ball. A family of stalk-eyed Galdorians ambled past them, heading toward the Garden Sector of the zoo.
Aside from being able to spend time with his son, the sights and sounds of the Corowood Zoo wowed Habraum, at least on a superficial level. Jeremy would point, exclaim and shake Habraum’s arm at everything he saw. The design for this zoo’s spires and dome-shaped structures was breathtaking. Most were smooth and rounded, yet unorthodox due to the mix of architectures from the many species within the Union. This type of design was largely seen at the multi-leveled Aerie where many sub-species of Terra Sollan myryposes and other avian creatures inhabited.
The Aerie was a semi-transparent globe; silvery and unflawed in appearance on a thick cylindrical base at least 20 stories high, a gift from the Thulicans at the end of the Ferronos Sector War. One could see the graceful gliding of the myryposes through the silvery globe, as they astounded the zoo’s visitors with their aerial superiority. Despite all this grandeur, Habraum realized with a sad smile, that it was never enough to fill the emptiness. Not the sight of his son’s smile or their improving relationship, not even removing himself from almost anything connected to Star Brigade.
There was no escaping this ever consuming black hole in his heart.
A year and some weeks had passed since his wife…and unborn daughter’s death.
A year and some weeks since his combat team and various other Brigadiers had been slaughtered.
Habraum had visited the graves of his family numerous times, struggling to live with their loss, dulled a large sum of the pain. But not nearly enough.
When it came to his Star Brigade family, Habraum’s wound was still as raw as that devastating day on Beridaas. His failure to save all but one taunted him still, a barbed nettle repeatedly puncturing a hole through his chest, making the thought of visiting their gravestones still too agonizing.
He suddenly wanted to talk to Jennica—right now. A few days had passed since his last letter. Yes, Habraum had promised to start weaning off what started as a grieving method during his darkest times. But his pride regarding his progress with Jeremy was overwhelming. He wanted to tell Jenn about the father he had become for Jeremy…the father he should have been when she was alive.
Would she have approved of him leaving the career he loved to focus on Jeremy?
Might she have seconded his choice to stay on Terra Sollus, so Jeremy would be close to her family—despite how they felt about Habraum? He wanted to blurt out these prideful musings, before his own overthinking ruined it all. This cycle had become a pattern when the bad days began to be less frequent, wondering if the decisions he made regarding his current life had been out of fatherly duty to Jeremy or out of remorse. Remorse from missing so much of Jeremy’s life beforehand?
“You’re thinking of Mommy again, aren’t you?”
Habraum stiffened. He looked down and saw the worry on his son’s face. “How did you know?”
“When you stare off into space,” Jeremy blinked, squeezing his hand. “But you do it less now.”
Habraum smiled at this. He knelt beside his son, cupping Jeremy’s face in his hands. Just looking into his son’s large eyes, he saw the sincerity there. “What can I say, Jer? I miss your mum very much.”
Jeremy frowned, “If it makes you feel better, I miss her, too.”
“I know,” Habraum kissed him softly on the forehead, his heart swelling with love for his son. “But it makes me happy that you help remind me of all the good things about her.”
Jeremy blushed and grinned, bashfully shuffling his feet. But Habraum had thought enough about his late wife. It hurt more than helped his broken, empty heart.
“So, I got a permission slip from your teachers,” Habraum said, as he stood up and continued to walk. The walkways had finally thinned out, making it easier to get around. “It’s about going to the Manoff Museum on Calliste, six weeks from now.”
Jeremy smiled brightly. “My class gets to see the Earth museum during Earth Memorial Week.”
Habraum snorted contemptuously. Even after 26 years, earthborn and Terranborn humans still milked the Earth Holocaust like it was a cow with inexhaustible udders. He stopped as he saw Jeremy look down sadly at the ground. “Some of my friends don’t think I should go.”
“Really?” Habraum frowned in surprise. “Why not?”
“Remember the picture I drew of old Korvenite ancient stuff for my art class history project?”
Habraum’s golden eyes narrowed as he recalled. “Yeah, I do.”
“After I showed it to my class, some of my friends called me a race-traitor and a blekdritt lover—.”
“What!?” Habraum froze in his tracks, not believing his seven-year-old had just said that word. “They called you that?” His disbelief gave way to anger. “Sprouts these days,” he shook his head in outrage.
“Daddy, what does blek—?”
“Jeremy,” Habraum moved Jeremy off the walkway and knelt down, taking his son by the shoulders. “It’s a bad insult to Korvenites. Never say it or think it again. Got me?”
The younger Nwosu nodded obediently and a bit fearfully, his hazel-grey eyes wide.
Realizing how harsh he sounded, the Cerc stopped himself. Jennica had always been better at chiding, rarely raising her voice with the boy. Before Jenn’s death, Habraum had been a little too piss and vinegar, taking after his earthborn Nigerian father in discipline. How would Jenn handle this? he’d been telling himself for months now, continuing more softly. “You still want to go on this trip?”
Jeremy nodded so eagerly that Habraum feared his head would fall off.
“Then go.” Habraum declared conclusively. “No matter what other people think. Oh, and find some new friends. Those klonks aren’t even worth your breathing space.”
The boy looked down with such shame that Habraum felt his heart break a little. Children were so impressionable at this age—and cruel. “Have you ever been to Earth before the Holocaust, Daddy?” Jeremy asked as he looked up again.
The question surprised Habraum. His face soured immediately at the memory. “A few times, when I was a tad of a lad, younger than you. It was a grubby, overpopulated dump,” he stated, causing his son to laugh. “You know this planet used to be the Korvenites’, yea?”
Jeremy nodded. “They said in school that Earth humans discovered it before the Union was created.”
“That’s right,” the Cerc smiled at his son’s knowledge and mussed up the boy’s fro of hair. “The earthborn colonized this world because it was so close to other Union memberworlds. Back then, the Korvenites only lived on a fraction of the planet so they had no issue with humans using what they weren’t.” Earth history came to Habraum as easily as breathing. It had become a hobby for many children on Cercidale after the Earth Holocaust.
&nbs
p; “By the mid-2200s,” he continued, taking a captivated Jeremy by the hand and walking slowly down the footpath. Visitors strolling down the same path had picked up significantly. “Humans from Earth, Mars, Cor Leonis and other earthborn colonies were immigrating here in droves. The Korvenites were the minority on their own planet. Even the lands that they occupied were now being taken if they didn’t meet some population quota.”
“They said that in school, too.” Jeremy frowned in confusion. “What’s a quota?”
Habraum looked down at his son for an awkward moment. The boy was so bright that sometimes the Cerc forgot he was just seven. “The lowest number needed to qualify for something.”
“Oh,” Jeremy digested the answer then looked back up at his dad again. “Why didn’t the Korvenites try to keep their world?”
“The Korvenites did try, ya know. They protested, rioted and everything,” Habraum stated, recalling the Korvenites’ plight with a saddened tone. “But it was just too late. The earthborn had officially made this world their homeworld. It didn’t help that the Korvenites hadn’t thought to appoint an official representative for Terra Sollus’ or the Union’s government until the mid-2300s.”
Jeremy frowned as his father’s words sunk in. “So the Union took advantage of them?”
“Yeah, lad,” Habraum stopped on the side of the walkway. “The Union kinda did.”
“That’s mean,” Jeremy put the most indignant frown he could manage on his adorable face, making Habraum choke back laughter. “Is it why they attacked Earth?”
“It was never an attack, Jer,” Habraum said after he composed himself. “Which was why such a tragedy happened to a planet as heavily fortified as Earth. It was just a dozen Korvenites trying to make a peaceful statement about their plight and emblazon it on Earth’s atmosphere. But then…there was an accident.”