The Exiled Earthborn

by Paul Tassi

  He could see the eyes of those in the front rows, wide with amazement. A few had even fallen to their knees—whether in reverence or terror, he couldn’t be sure.

  “Like you, we were stunned to learn that we had brothers and sisters across the stars. It is unfortunate our two civilizations could not have met during a time of peace, but because of the Xalans, our planet is now mere memory. All that’s left are records and stories, which you will be hearing for days, months, and years to come.”

  All the information compiled on Earth from both their own testimony and Alpha’s records was to be released on what the Sorans simply called the “Stream.” It was a constant feed of information, communication, and entertainment that seemed like all Earth’s media sources rolled into one. After the speech, the archive would go live and every Soran would be able to learn everything there was to tell about the lost planet of Earth.

  “We learned we were one of many worlds full of humans”—

  Oops—“Sorans,” he corrected, “that have been sacrificed to the Xalan war machine. These other planets were ravaged as Earth was, but we were the only world who could fight back.”

  The hologram behind them now displayed the various battle scenes of raids on foreign Soran worlds that Alpha had shown them aboard the Ark. The civilizations ranged in age from mere cavemen to the sorts of Industrial Revolution–era cities that once populated Earth. But none of them had the capacity to fend off the invaders the way Earth did. Its technology had been just advanced enough to ensure the mutual destruction of both itself and its attempted conquerors. There were gasps from the crowd as they watched the devastation unfold, and a few people actually screamed. The scene switched to a battle on Earth where a Xalan mothership was torn apart by a nuke dropped directly on top of it.

  “We fought them off, but our planet was poisoned, dying. We soon learned of the far-off world known as ‘Sora,’ full of beings like us, and knew it was our only salvation.”

  Lucas turned to Asha, her hair blowing faintly in the warm breeze. She nodded and took over the speech as they’d agreed earlier.

  “We escaped our planet on the last working spacecraft with the aid of a friend—an exiled Xalan named Alpha,” she said.

  The holograph changed to a view of Alpha sitting behind them, a stoic expression on his face. Countless pairs of eyes widened in front of them.

  “We learned that not all Xalans are bloodthirsty; there are many who want peace. Because of his refusal to carry out the savage commands of his superiors, Alpha was branded a traitor and personally hunted by High Commander Kurotos across the galaxy.”

  Kurotos was the name Sorans had for Omicron, and he was a formidable figure in their history, infamous for his brutality across centuries of galactic combat.

  “The Shadow killed his family on Xala for treason, a clan of scientists, and wanted to reclaim his considerable mind for the war effort. Alpha refused, and we aided him. After pursuing us all the way from Earth, Commander Kurotos boarded our ship as we reached Soran space. It was the last mistake he ever made.”

  The holograph showed autopsy footage of the blue-eyed, black skinned Xalan lying dead in a Soran holding area. The crowd was too stunned by everything being said to even cheer. The silence of a million people in front of them was unsettling.

  “We were welcomed warmly by your leaders, and a decision was made to tell the public our story. We want you to know that you are not alone in this fight. This war is about more than just the fate of your world, as the Xalans put every system, and every populated planet, known and unknown, at risk.”

  There was much they weren’t allowed to say in the speech. They couldn’t mention they captured Omicron’s ship, which was now buried a few miles underground in a covert laboratory. They were advised to not mention the government’s initial skepticism of their claims, or the fact that the Xalans were fighting a war based on false pretenses that had been uncovered by Alpha’s father. Specific details of the final years of Earth were deemed too gruesome to share, and they were not to mention the eleven other humans Alpha had collected before meeting them that remained in brain-dead stasis after being extracted from the Ark. Such things were not “need to know” for the public, and revealing as much as they had already would be enough for the world to process. Lucas couldn’t imagine if two Sorans had shown up on Earth and delivered a similar message on the steps of the White House.

  “We have arrived safely now, but we did not come alone. We brought with us the last son of Earth, Noah …”

  The hologram showed a beaming Noah playing with his beloved holoball. He tottered around the room onscreen ungracefully. His blond locks had grown longer and wavy.

  “… and soon, we will welcome our first son of Sora.”

  The image changed to the tank where the now six-month-old child grew. Lucas saw more than a few smiles on the faces closest to him. He began to speak again in place of Asha.

  “We thank you for welcoming us into your world. As safe as we are here, and as hard as our journey has been, we will not be content to rest while the Xalan menace remains. As such, Asha and I will be enlisting in the Soran Defense Initiative, where we hope to contribute to the final resolution of this war. With one of the top Xalan minds now on our side, and your unwavering support, we will end this conflict forever. Thank you for accepting us into your home.”

  There was silence as Lucas and Asha stood uncomfortably at the podium. In front of them, humming generators provided nearly invisible forcefields that would screen them from the mob should things turn ugly. Lucas scanned the faces in front of them, searching for an answer as to what was about to happen.

  Someone yelled. Then another, and another. Like a wave, people began to raise their right fists into the air, cheering as they did so. It was a sign of respect in Soran culture, and soon there were more than a million arms raised in front of them as the roar of the crowd became deafening. Lucas beamed as Asha bit her lip and gave a reluctant but dazzling smile.

  Had they found a new home? In that moment, it certainly felt like it.

  2

  The speech earned Lucas many warm smiles and congratulations from the sorts of nobles and officers who had been peering at him from behind mirrored glass for the past six months. The Stream showed scenes of jubilation in many of the major cities across the planet, though there were already a few claiming the entire event was pure wartime propaganda. A political group called the Fourth Order said the newcomers were not from any such foreign planet but were just genetically altered Soran constructs meant to drum up support for the war. Further still, there were those who deemed the revelation a Xalan conspiracy led by the double agent Alpha, with genetic abominations Lucas and Asha set to usher in the end of Sora as they brought the government down from the inside. The team escorting Lucas tried to usher him away from the screens when such accusations cropped up.

  But Lucas was still riding high on the thunderous cheers of millions of Sorans and nothing would derail his mood. He and Asha were separated and taken to yet another series of groomers who would prepare them for their next big event: the Earth Gala.

  It was a gathering that had been announced weeks earlier, but the focus had been kept a secret. The now-revealed objective was that the party would personally introduce them to Sora’s elite, from captains of industry to powerful politicians and military figures. Talis assured them they would be thoroughly annoyed by most of the people they met, but she’d never hear the end of it if they were kept secluded from her allies around the world after the news had been made public. Dignitaries had planned for the event for weeks, despite its secrecy, and had flown in from not only all over Sora but also from a few of the colonies planted on sparsely populated nearby worlds within the system.

  The stylists mercifully left Lucas’s hair the way it was, but they put him in a new suit that was a style meant for ultra-formal occasions such as this. It was similar to his old one, dark and high collared, but there were inlaid patterns of cobalt-colored f
abric, supposed indicators of a high-class garment.

  “You should be honored,” a stylist said. She was an older woman with her hair done up like a tornado and colored varying shades of red. “This was hand sewn specifically for you by Jolo Houzan himself. His designs run upwards of a hundred thousand marks, even when they’re not custom made.”

  Lucas knew neither who Jolo Houzan was nor if a hundred thousand marks was a large amount. He simply smiled and nodded and wondered how many marks were being invested into Asha’s appearance next door.

  After being kept in seclusion for so long, it was strange for Lucas to find himself being treated like a king over the course of the day. As he was being fitted, an attractive young girl with short auburn hair and sea green eyes came to take his pre-party food order. Sorans usually ate five meals a day. The only thing he knew how to describe was a slab of orange-ish meat he had been fed earlier; the rest of the holographic menu floating in front of him made no sense at all. Learning the language did not mean he knew much of anything about the specifics of life on Sora. But he did know that orange meat was delicious, which was proven true yet again when it arrived in front of him a short time later, hand-delivered with a lingering smile from the girl. “Seared Charo,” the dish was called. He wondered what the animal it came from might look like. Though humans looked identical to Sorans, their wildlife was drastically different.

  At last the flurry of servants and stylists left him, and he was able to sit in peace and enjoy the last bites of his meal. He stared into the mirror in front of him, barely recognizing the man looking back. He’d come a long way from the gaunt survivalist who had roamed around a desolate Earth, or the blood-spattered soldier who had killed too many aliens and humans to count in the past year alone. Before him was a regal-looking fellow with windswept hair, piercing gray eyes, and a healthy glow. And in a hundred-thousand-mark suit to boot. But he knew once he made good on his promise to join the Defense Initiative, this man would disappear.

  It took weeks to convince Talis to let them enlist in the military. Finally she was swayed by her brother, Tannon, to let them sign on and become a public face for the war. The bravery of these newcomers, to have gone through so much and still be willing to fight, would inspire all of Sora, he said. And, judging by the public’s reaction so far, he was right.

  Lucas and Asha had discussed the matter between them. They decided they wouldn’t be able to live with themselves if they let the war rage around them and did nothing. The creatures had taken away everything they loved, their entire world, and who was to say they wouldn’t find another planet full of innocents and do the same to them? Even if they couldn’t win the war outright, the Earthborn had to do their part to help. “Earthborn” was an identifier that had stuck, and as Lucas could see from the Stream on the opposite wall, the term was being used in headlines across the globe.

  He glanced out the window that made up the wall to his left and watched the large sun dip down behind the reflective buildings of Elyria a few miles away. He was on one of the highest floors of the Grand Palace, and peering down he could barely make out the gardens below. Extending in front of him was the promenade where he’d addressed the world, and the giant stone guardians stood on each side, silently watching over the path to the glittering city.

  The sky turned orange, then red, then a dusky purple as the sun finally disappeared completely. Above where it fell hung three round moons of differing sizes. Two more surely lurked behind him somewhere. Stars began to show through the darkness, despite the city lights below them. Sora’s solar system was far closer to the center of the galaxy than Earth, and the Milky Way was at least three times brighter as the string of lights danced diagonally across the blackness. They called it the “Shining River” here, which seemed like a more appropriate nickname. Lucas realized that his sun was out there somewhere, a dead Earth orbiting it, filled with the ruins of his old civilization.

  The door slid open behind him and there was a knock on the metallic frame. Lucas spun around in his chair and saw Asha standing before him.

  The sight of her sent chills tumbling down his spine. She was now clad in a long cherry-red dress made out of a shimmering material that seemed to scatter the light around it. It was tied up around her shoulders, with makeup and a necklace of enormous jewels covering up the battle scars across her collarbone. As she strode toward him, a slit revealed her leg up to her thigh, and her neckline was equally daring. Her hair was down now and flowed over her shoulders in waves. Her lips parted into a smile when their eyes met. This was a far softer creature than the one he’d been traveling with for the last year.

  “I’ve barely even recognized you today,” she said, eyeing his new wardrobe.

  “I know the feeling.”

  It was a relaxing to speak in English after being forced to converse in nonstop Soran for most of the past few months. He was even starting to think in the foreign language.

  “They’re nicer than my stylists back home, but I’m not so sure about their taste.” She looked down at her dress and let the material slide through her fingers like water. Lucas forgot that Asha once lived in relative luxury herself as an actress, but it likely hadn’t compared to this.

  “You look …” Lucas started, at a loss for words, either English or Soran, to describe her radiance.

  “That bad, huh?”

  “No … I …”

  There was no adjective. She fingered one of the large sparkling gems on her necklace.

  “They told me that this belonged to some ancient queen. That no one’s worn it in thousands of years.”

  “Are those diamonds?” Lucas asked.

  “If they are, they’re the biggest I’ve ever seen. Wars would have been fought over a treasure like this back on Earth.”

  “That’s quite a gesture then. All I got was this designer suit from Jolo something.”

  “Well, you look good. And I don’t think diamonds would help that outfit at all,” she said with a smirk as she got up and walked toward the window.

  “Quite a view,” he said, rising from his chair to stand next to her. He watched her eyes dart from moon to moon. “It’s a shame we’re the only ones who get to see it.”

  “Yeah,” Asha said. “But we’re the ones who earned it.”

  “Still,” he said, “I wouldn’t say we’re exactly the most noble representatives of Earth. If they all knew the things we’d done to be here …”

  “Most of them would have done the same if they were in our shoes, and those that hadn’t would be dead.” She turned to him. “Why, who would you have picked to represent the human race?”

  Perhaps she hadn’t become gentler after all. Lucas leaned against the window.

  “Someone more impressive than me.”

  “You were great today. Haven’t you seen the Stream?” She motioned toward the holographic feed on the opposite wall.

  Lucas laughed.

  “Yeah, people think we’re liars or spies.”

  “Not most of them.”

  She walked over to the screen and began sifting through the navigation system until she found the story she was looking for. Reading Soran had become as second nature as speaking it over the past six months, and the geometric symbols easily rearranged themselves into words in his mind. Asha pointed to the screen, which showed a crying baby accompanying the text.

  “49,054 children born today were named Lucas. 18,324 were named Noah.”

  He smiled.

  “What about Asha?”

  “… 85,941.”

  “Guess you’re a crowd favorite.”

  “Well, I am the only Earth girl that made it here.”

  Lucas examined the story. “Hah, even Alpha got 3,200 little Sorans named after him.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”

  There was another knock at the open doorway. It was an old man, at least by Earth standards. On Sora, he had to be around 150 or 160. Unnaturally extended life was commonplace on the planet, particula
rly among the affluent. He wore purple robes that hid his hands and feet completely. His white hair was cropped close to his head, and he was clean shaven. As he smiled, his blue eyes crinkled with a thousand lines.

  “Pardon my interruption, but the event is about to begin,” he said in a gravelly voice. “High Chancellor Vale has requested your presence in the Throne Room.”

  “The Throne Room?” Lucas asked. “She has a throne?”

  “The room is a holdover from when the palace housed the royal family. But these walls have not seen a king in them for close to five thousand years now.”

  “So the High Chancellor is elected?” inquired Asha.

  “Yes, and five years past, Madam Chancellor commanded 83 percent of the vote to secure her next term.”

  “Doesn’t sound like much of a contest,” she said.

  “The Vales are a highly respected family on Sora. Her father, High Chancellor Varrus, was one of the most influential leaders in our planet’s history.”

  “And what happened to him?” Asha asked.

  An indicator light flashed on a piece of his robe, which was apparently laced with circuitry.

  “I’m sorry, but we really must be going. I will be happy to elaborate on these matters at another time. I have been assigned as your personal ward during your time at the palace.”

  “Our personal ward? What’s your name?” Lucas asked as he and Asha walked out the door.

  “Apologies, my name is Malorious Auran. I’ve been Keeper of the Grand Palace for many, many years now. I’ve served both Vales and thirteen High Chancellors before them.”

  “I suppose you’re the one to talk to about anything then. We’re still learning our history here,” Lucas said. “I’m Lucas, and this is Asha.”

  “I’m well aware,” the old man said with a smile, shuffling ahead of them in long purple robes. “As of today, I have a newborn great-grandchild named Lucas.”

  Asha elbowed Lucas as she walked behind him. He grinned.

  Lucas had only seen a few areas of the gigantic palace so far, but the Throne Room was by far the most impressive enclosed space he’d ever been in, on this world or his own. It was a mix of ancient art, advanced technology, and otherworldly architecture. Great stone columns held up a ceiling that was swirling with a floating replica of the entire galaxy, which spanned the length of the room. The walls were lined with a mixture of large oil paintings that were assuredly thousands of years old and holographic art pieces that were painstakingly detailed and popped out of their frames. A few even appeared to be moving.