by Paul Tassi
But he owed Talis. She had faith in him when a dozen military officials were likely calling for his execution back when he was locked up, and had treated him with nothing but kindness ever since. If she wanted the murderer of her daughter to face justice alive, then so be it.
The lift doors opened and Lucas found himself on a level of the palace he’d never been to before. He double checked the virtual map on his wrist and found he was indeed in the right location, thankfully no longer deep under the planet’s surface. There were people bustling around everywhere, and Lucas was relieved to spot a familiar face. What was his name again?
“Keeper Auran!” he called, motioning to the old man. The man smiled, adding a host of new wrinkles to his complexion, and he sauntered over to Lucas. His long robes were a rich green today with gold cords weaving in and out of the fabric.
“It is good to see you well,” he said warmly. “After I left the Throne Room I feared the worst when I heard the explosion.”
“Glad to see you weren’t around either,” Lucas said.
“Indeed. I’ve heard the lady is recovering from her recent brush with the Fourth Order?”
“She is,” Lucas said as the pair of them walked down the hall.
“I must apologize on behalf of my planet that you would receive such a welcome after making the perilous journey you have.”
Lucas waved him off.
“Trust me, if you came to Earth you would have seen wars and depravity a lot worse than your rebellion.”
Auran sighed.
“We’ve had plenty of conflicts worse than this most recent flare-up. It seems there is no escaping them for Sorans, here or elsewhere.”
“Can I ask you something?” Lucas said as he caught two older women staring at him as he passed. He could hear them whisper between themselves once his back was to them.
“Certainly,” Auran said, his gait slow and methodical.
“Why does the Fourth Order hate the Vales so much? Or is it the government in general?”
“Ah,” Auran said, nodding. “Someone needs to sit you down and give you a Soran history lesson someday.”
“Haven’t had much time for that yet,” Lucas said.
“I suppose that would be true; you’ve been too busy making it.”
“Making what?”
“History, of course.”
Lucas chuckled. He sometimes forgot the weight of his appearance on Sora. Why people were staring at him left and right as he walked down the hall. His face was plastered across the Stream in every home. The stranger. The alien. The Earthborn.
“As for your question, it warrants an answer, but it’s not one I can provide you with here.”
Lucas was confused.
“What? Why not?”
“Though Talis Vale is a more friendly Chancellor than we’ve had in decades, she does have her sticking points. Speaking about that day within the palace is strictly forbidden.”
“What day?”
“I cannot speak further, lest my voiceprint be tagged and transmitted to security. Even as Keeper of the Palace, I would be subject to punishment.”
This seemed much too draconian for the Talis Vale Lucas knew.
“Alright, sorry, I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.”
Auran shook his head.
“It is of no consequence. I can hardly blame her. It is, after all, the day she lost her father.”
Lucas walked on in silence as he thought that through. If her father was High Chancellor before her, this unspoken day must have been when she assumed power. But how did that relate to the fury of the Fourth Order?
“In any event, we have reached your destination, Lucas.”
Lucas liked that Auran referred to him by name; he was growing tired of being called “Earthborn” all the time. The pair of them stopped near a large opaque door.
“How did you know where I was going?”
Auran smiled.
“Why else would you be on this floor?”
The doors opened and they were greeted by chaos. Children ran everywhere, being chased by teenaged Sorans trying to corral them. The room was full of toys, both holographic and physical, and the walls were painted brightly with landscapes of blue mountains and red trees. Auran entered with him and he had to avoid tripping over a stuffed animal, species unknown. Looking around the room, Lucas found what he was searching for.
“Hah!” Auran exclaimed. “I see your son has already met my granddaughter. Hello, Kyra and Noah!”
At the sound of his name, Noah turned his head. He was kneeling on the ground next to a young girl, and was dressed in a light blue one-piece covered with seven-pointed stars. When he saw Lucas, he shoved himself to his feet and ran over to give his leg a bearhug.
“Oo-cas!” he squealed.
“Hey, little man,” Lucas said, hoisting him up into his arms. “Having fun?”
Noah nodded vigorously.
The little girl he was playing with had wispy blond hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a pair of deep dimples. Auran reached for her hand as she toddled toward them.
“This is my granddaughter, Kyra,” he said.
“Hello,” Lucas said and smiled at her. She grinned mischievously, but quickly hid behind Auran’s robes.
“Her mother works in the consular office a few floors up.”
The palace nursery was for the children of those serving in the Vale administration and working in the building on a daily basis. Lucas had been told Noah was brought here in order to socialize him with other children. At over a year old, he hadn’t had any contact with anyone close to his age in months, and when he had, it was in a cannibal orphanage in god knows what conditions. From the looks of things now, however, he seemed to be adjusting just fine. Lucas eyed the burns creeping down past the sleeves of his tiny outfit. The kid sure was resilient.
“How old is she?” Lucas asked.
“About little Noah’s age here, though I’m sorry I can’t recall the proper Earth year translation. Arithmetic was never my strong suit.”
Noah waved to be set down and he ran toward the little girl. He took her by the sleeve and the two of them wobbled off toward a brightly lit console projecting animated versions of nearby planets. Noah was a little too eager to get there and fell flat onto his butt, which made Kyra giggle.
“Born a trillion miles apart and already getting along famously,” Auran said with a wink.
“I’m glad he’s found a friend,” Lucas said as he watched the two babble at each other. “Lord knows he could use one.”
A few hours later, Lucas had seen Noah off to bed in a lavish nursery room near the top of the palace. The child had every toy and comfort in the world up there, but he still fell asleep each night clutching the holoball Alpha had made him aboard the Ark.
Now, Lucas sat in the darkened hospital wing, a few feet from Asha’s bed where she lay sleeping. She’d had several microsurgeries throughout the course of the day, repairing torn muscles and hairline fractures, and now had been out for a few hours.
Lucas could not sleep.
His dreams had been strange lately, unsettling. Drifting off would likely yield some terrifying new vision, and so he staved off exhaustion for as long as he could. He found himself looking through a scroll, a small, thin, metal cylinder that projected a virtual piece of paper from its side. You could write and read on it, but its primary purpose was viewing the Stream. He sifted through the various news stories of the day, the majority of which were about him, Asha, Alpha, and Tulwar’s attack on the palace. Lucas had the volume tuned into a frequency set that only he could hear it, so as not to disturb Asha. A newswoman dressed in what looked like a shirt made out of silver scales was showing footage from the early morning raid. Lucas saw the familiar sight of Tulwar side by side with his Xalan scientist after their capture. The video feed cut off before Maston showed up and started beating him into the dust.
Lucas flipped around some more until he discovered the search function. It was
for the Palace Archives, a place Auran had told him might have the answers he sought about the Fourth Order and the Vales.
He was met with nothing. No results other than a simple page detailing the various atrocities committed by the Order over the years. And there were many. It seemed the palace assault wasn’t their first bombing, and they’d targeted dozens of other government buildings on a variety of continents. Mysteriously absent, however, was any explanation of how the Order came into existence, or even what their stated goals were. The Soran term for “anarchists” came up frequently.
Lucas had another idea. He looked up when Talis Vale came into power. Records showed that it was on the eighth of Torsis in 24,440 CT. He didn’t know what “CT” meant as a year indicator, but he knew Torsis was one of Sora’s fifteen months. He entered the date into the search modifier. A singular result sprang up in front of him.
“The Fall of Vitalla.”
He tried to enter the information page, but was met with a flashing red error message across the scroll.
RESTRICTED ACCESS: VIOLATION LOGGED
Violation? It was true then, Talis didn’t want anyone speaking about what happened that day, or apparently even reading about it. He wondered if someone was about to come arrest him, but a few minutes passed and the ward was silent. His scroll had returned to normal.
He tried to press his luck, attempting to enter a variety of links to “related stories” about Vitalla. He earned a new violation each time when he was met with the same foreboding message.
Midway through the list of terms, he came across one called “Send-off.” He pressed it absentmindedly, assuming he’d get another violation, but was surprised when a video actually started playing. He was further stunned when he saw who was speaking in it.
It was Corinthia Vale, as gorgeous as when he’d seen her at the party, if not more so. She was standing on a stage that almost looked like it was made out of crystal. A line of dignitaries stood behind her including Talis, Tannon, and … Hex Tulwar? It couldn’t be. But behind them all was a familiar sight; the sheer red cliffs of Rhylos were unmistakable. A fleet of seemingly enormous ships hung in the sky behind them. Lucas’s face was illuminated by the warm glow of the scroll as she began to speak.
“Greetings citizens of Rhylos, and the billions of Sorans watching on this momentous day.”
The strong winds did their best to tear her blond hair from their braids, but they remained in place while the ends of her long dress danced about.
“I have been privileged and honored to have worked on the Vitalla project for the past decade, an idea sparked many years before I was even born. It represents the single greatest advancement in our history, and one that can help benefit the least fortunate among us.”
She spoke articulately and with obvious confidence. A born leader. Or, from the way she had described herself, a bred leader.
“Rhylos has been ravaged by disasters both natural and unnatural throughout history. Many here live in poverty, struggling with the challenges of day-to-day survival, things most of us take for granted. We knew when the Vitalla project was created that it should benefit those who need it the most. It has been an enlightening experience working with Grand Cleric Tulwar, a man who wants nothing more than to see his homeland rise again.”
Tulwar smiled. He clasped his hands together and made a small bow in her direction. His hair was shorter, his face absent of insanity.
“The land may be beyond saving, but the people are not. Vitalla will be their salvation, and the Rhylosi will earn a reward they’ve long deserved.”
She motioned behind her. Lucas could see an enormous metal structure sitting on the cliff behind them.
“In a few hours, the largest convoy fleet ever launched from our world will make its way to Vitalla, a world outside our solar system we’ve spent the better part of a hundred years terraforming. One hidden from the Xalans and now filled with every resource and comfort a Soran could want. Cities stand erected, waiting to be filled. Millions of homes have been manufactured and will offer the people of Rhylos a long-awaited respite from their troubles on Sora. There will be plenty of opportunities available for all. Some may attend schools and be taught by some of the greatest minds our world has to offer. Others will find plentiful work farming and mining.”
The live audience cheered, and Corinthia couldn’t contain a dazzling smile.
“As this is the largest colony we’ve ever constructed, and the first outside our own solar system, there will of course be challenges. The journey to Vitalla, which begins today, will take just over a year. A hundred million citizens of Rhylos will load into thousands of our largest ships, which will take them there. The convoy will be personally escorted by my grandfather, High Chancellor Vale, and he will bring the might of the Soran military to ensure the path is safe, and the destination secure.”
A gruff-looking man behind her gave a curt nod. He was Talis’s father, the original High Chancellor Vale. Varrus, was it? He looked like an older model of Tannon and wore a perfectly pressed suit adorned with an incredible number of distinctions. Both Tannon and Talis eyed the taller man reverently, and the crowd cheered at the mention of his name.
“My mother will be acting Chancellor while my grandfather is away. Our homeworld is more secure than it’s ever been. With Xala defeated soundly at the Battle of Golgath, they have been forced to retreat and regroup, and we have little to fear from them for some time. The Soran Defense Initiative remains in place guarding our borders while at the same time deploying troops to safeguard the passage to Vitalla.”
The winds were picking up now, and Corinthia had to shield her face from stinging sand.
“I now invite Grand Cleric Tulwar to say a few words on the behalf of his people.”
Another short bow from Tulwar and he strode up to the podium where he greeted Corinthia with a friendly embrace. He looked like no religious figure Lucas had ever seen, dressed in a short red coat with knee high boots and golden chestplate.
“Zurana bless us!” he said as he reached the podium, his voice booming around the canyon.
“Kyneth save us!” came the monolithic reply from the audience.
Lucas was jolted out of the scroll by an alarm sounding in the hall. He frantically looked to Asha, who hadn’t stirred, and then watched as a number of silvercoats sprinted past their door and bustled into the next room. The alarm was silenced and Asha’s head rolled to her left. Lucas bent across her bed and threaded her hair from her face back over her ear. When he turned back to his scroll to continue playing the video, he was met with a familiar message:
RESTRICTED ACCESS: VIOLATION LOGGED
Repeated tries only yielded the same result, and finally his scroll shut down completely and refused to turn back on. Perhaps he’d violated one protocol too many. He tossed the device to the foot of Asha’s bed and rubbed his eyes as he leaned back in his chair.
What had happened at Vitalla? The feed he’d just watched showed the Vales and Tulwar as allies, even friends. What sort of betrayal would spark an entire resistance movement pushing the planet to the brink of civil war? And how was Maston mixed up in all this? The thoughts plagued him as he eventually drifted off to sleep in the darkness of the medical wing.
7
Lucas awoke from a booted kick. He jumped and saw Asha standing over him, dressed in a fresh set of tight-fitting Soran clothes made out of an unidentifiable green-and-black material.
“Up and at ’em, soldier.”
Lucas looked around groggily. She had a white bandage around her tan forearm and was favoring her right leg.
“They’re letting you out?”
“I’m letting myself out. I didn’t even need to be in here in the first place.”
Lucas rolled his eyes.
“You were caught in an explosion, kidnapped, and tortured, all within the last day.”
Asha scoffed as she began rifling through her pack.
“And I hear you fought off a robot the siz
e of a semi-truck, and I didn’t see anyone forcing you in here.”
Lucas rubbed his sides, which still ached.
“You know, few cracked ribs, the usual.”
“Whatever, I’m getting out of here.” She kept digging through her pack. Her burns and bruises did look noticeably better. “Where the hell is my Magnum? And my sword?”
“Natalie’s watching over them in the armory, don’t worry.”
She shook her head.
“You and that gun, I swear. It’s like your daughter.”
“Says the girl frantically trying to find her own weapons. Though I suppose that revolver is a priceless artifact here.”
Asha stopped cold, a look of horror creeping across her face.
“Oh shit.”
“What?”
“Speaking of priceless artifacts, I’m pretty sure I lost that ancient necklace full of fist-size diamonds I was wearing the other night.”
Lucas laughed.
“Hah, maybe the Fourth Order will have their ransom after all.”
“Not likely,” said a voice from the doorway. It was Talis Vale, clad in a long purple gown that flowed over her feet. “It was a fake.”
Asha didn’t miss a beat with the sudden appearance of the High Chancellor. Box-shaped palace guards loomed behind her.
“What, you didn’t trust me with the real one?” Asha asked.
Talis walked into the room while the guards stayed behind.
“No, no, that isn’t it, my dear. The original was stolen from the palace vault a century ago, but we don’t like to tell people that,” she said with a wry smile.
The guards were eyeing Lucas, and he wondered if those were just the usual stares he got as the Earthborn, or if they were about to take him into custody for his apparently illegal inquiries into Vitalla last night. They made no moves toward him.