Song of the Worlds Boxed Set

by Brandon Barr

  The choice was hers. Whether she would embrace it come morning was a question for the daylight. She sensed she would not, but the fire of the present moment was more powerful than thoughts of cost or consequence.

  Mica’s body came atop hers, arms enfolding her.

  No one would know.

  No one would be hurt.

  It would only be a taste.

  She relaxed. Pushed aside the voices, and hungrily invited what was next to come.

  LOAM

  The feed from Loam’s long-range scanners have picked up outside activity in a proximal solar system. Until Loam is chartered, our allotted resources are thin, but I’ve had their signals briefly analyzed, and the results show space travel and inter-solar colonization surrounding that unknown system. As you know, mercenaries and headhunters often exist on the outskirts of upworlds. Be wary, but I see little danger. Loam appears to have been untouched by them, but not so her sister planet, Hearth. The Cultivator there has informed me of space merchant activity on his world. The Praelothian king trades regularly with men from that unknown system.

  Also, let me offer my congratulations to you a week early, Karience! Your first year as Empyrean is almost behind you. Well done.

  -Higelion, Magnus Empyrean,

  (archived transmission to Karience, Empyrean of Loam)

  CHAPTER 7

  WINTER

  “I remember my first flight,” said Rueik staring through the massive curving glass of the pilot window, his young face reflected back at them. “I nearly peed myself it was so amazing.”

  “Please refrain from crass language,” said Arentiss, seated beside Rueik, her voice sharp, as usual. “It’s improper as a Guardian representative.”

  Winter heard Rueik’s voice reply, but the words faded into the background as she stared at Aven’s hand in hers.

  “Is your brain doing what mine is doing?” tapped Winter.

  “Yes…scary.”

  Her head swam with strange information. The VOKK. She felt its presence in her thoughts, as if her inner voice had been accosted by another who spoke through her, and to her.

  She touched the right side of her head where Alael had inserted the device. The change after the procedure had been remarkable. It was as if her mind had come alive. As if before it had been blurry, like an eye bad from birth, but now it saw clearly. Winter knew the names of things without being told. Like the name of the room she and Aven were in now. It was called the bridge. The strange shapes on the panel arrayed before Arentiss and Rueik, they were things you could touch and apply pressure to that would speak to the ship, tell it how to move. She knew this by simply watching what they were doing.

  “We’re like birds,” tapped Winter, then whispered, “I never imagined the land to look like this. Way up high, it looks so different.”

  “There,” said Arentiss, gesturing at the window. “That’s the sea, and, right beside it,” she pointed, “right there, is Anantium, the Royal City.”

  The ship was moving fast, and soon they were flying low over crisp blue water. The sea stretched beyond Winter’s sight, white tipped waves cresting in beautiful patterns against the vast blue.

  She wished they weren’t traveling so fast. Already the city was in sight, and they were coming down quickly upon the sea. The deep blue water was rushing toward them. She had only enough time to squeeze Aven’s hand before the ship slammed into the water.

  Her body felt heavy for a moment as the ship’s gravity sagged. It was strange, this concept of gravity on a ship, but it came clearly to her mind. Examples rushed at her. It was the same force that had held her down upon the ground her entire life, and it was the same force that drew the rain from the clouds.

  “Fish!” tapped Winter fiercely.

  The pilot’s window swarmed with a school of red-finned fish darting away from the glass, their slender bodies flashing silver and gold. Winter could hardly take in what was happening. She had never been to the sea before, but now, she was beneath it, seeing sights that only moments ago would have been impossible for her to ever imagine. The ship was moving down toward the sea floor. The water grew murkier the lower they went, and darker, though she could make out pinpoints of light dotting what looked like large, white bubbles on the ocean floor. Everything felt foreign, and yet words and concepts were forming in her mind. It came to her that the round bubbles were buildings, the pinpoints of light little windows. Portholes.

  It was so much to take in. She felt a rush from all the strange concepts and astonishing sights.

  A hand squeezed lightly on her shoulder. “How beautiful.”

  Winter spun at the familiar voice, as did her brother.

  Pike stood there, eyes locked on the sights outside the pilot’s window, eyes red, as if he’d been crying.

  Winter swung around in front of Aven, shielding him, standing face to face with Pike. She narrowed her eyes at him, balancing herself for a fight, as if he were a wolf in her forest.

  “What?” said Pike, finally. “You look like you want to hurt me.”

  “Just stay away from us,” she said.

  Pike looked horrified. “What did I do?”

  She tried to find a trace of mockery in the shadows of his eyes.

  “Don’t ridicule us,” said Aven.

  Pike put his hands up and took a step back. “What’s happened? I don’t know why you’re—” His voice cut out, as if snatched from his throat. He stared at them, his lips moving but nothing coming out.

  He brought his hands up to his head, “It’s not right,” he finally managed. “I have this horrible—” He broke off and looked just over Winter’s shoulder, at Aven. Then he began to cry. A sharp, naked cry, like a child’s.

  Rueik whispered from behind them in the pilot seat, “Didn’t Karience tell you?”

  Aven didn’t know whether Rueik was speaking to him and Winter, or to Pike.

  “He’s mocking us,” said Winter in a raised voice. “You saw what he did to my brother this morning.”

  Winter shouted over Pike’s sobbing, “Stop it, Pike!” Anger coursed through her as he continued to cry. She swung her right fist into the side of Pike’s face.

  “Hold it!” commanded Rueik.

  Arentiss sprang out of her chair. She grabbed Pike by the arm and led him out of the room. Winter could hear Pike’s muted wailing even after the egg shaped door had shut.

  “You didn’t know about his brain wipe?” said Rueik.

  Winter turned and stared at Rueik. Brain wipe? The words took form in her mind, churning into a definition. It was some kind of procedure. Invasive. This new word began to take on shape. Pike’s mind had been intruded upon. Things had been changed, tampered with. Winter slowly began to grasp this.

  “She was in the room with you long enough—I can’t believe she didn’t tell you.” Rueik gave a harsh laugh, which turned into a grin. “The poor guy. I’ve never seen a brain wipe. Thought he was still on the breast, the way you two made him cry.”

  Winter couldn’t remove the pathetic face of Pike from her mind’s eye. “What did you change in him?”

  “Don’t ask me,” said Rueik. “Ask the Empyrean.” His eyes moved to the door. Winter turned to look.

  Karience’s dark features were grim; she stood by the circular opening. “Brain wipe is the slang term,” she said. “Officially, it’s called an MCD. A Mind Control Device. Brain wipe is better, more fitting…it was the only way he could be here. I’ve never seen it used before…until now.”

  Rueik chortled. “I’d say it’s defective.”

  “It’s incomplete. Pike’s memory is still being cleaned. He wasn’t supposed to be out yet. That’s my fault.”

  “What’s happening to him?” asked Aven.

  Karience appeared uneasy with the question. Or maybe just uncertain.

  “According to Alael, the MCD will remove the problem memories. Winter and Aven, you have been factored into the process. Supposedly, when the cleaning process is through, he’ll b
e as docile as a child. All the choices he made that moved him toward the person you knew will be replaced with new memories. Alael says they will be simple, filler memories.”

  Winter looked at Aven. A deep crease ran the length of his brow and his eyes were distant. She wondered what he was feeling.

  _____

  AVEN

  A knot sat in his gut as Karience’s words sunk in. The VOKK in his head expanded on the Empyrean’s words. The brain wipe. They were capable of changing a person’s memories. Changing who a person was and remaking them. Aven questioned the discomfort he felt. The Guardians had power so far greater than the Baron, it was frightening.

  What they were doing to Pike felt both wrong and right. He was relieved that he and Winter were being protected, but then…Pike was being freed from the guilt and shame of his past. Was it fair for his mind to be relieved of the weight of what he had done—that he could walk around with a clear conscience, as if he’d lived a different life? The scars and the ugliness of his deeds would be gone, while the scars he’d left on others remained unhealed.

  Pike had been absolved of his crimes without paying the price of shame…without going to those he’d hurt and begging for their forgiveness.

  It was unjust, and yet, he and Winter were now safe.

  “Can he be changed back?” Aven asked.

  “Yes, if he ever returns to his old life, he’ll be changed back, and the new memories he formed will be replaced with fake ones that better reflect his true identity. Although I’m told we can soften him, so that if he returns, he’ll be slightly less the monster he was before.”

  A sudden shudder ran through the ship. Aven turned toward the pilot’s window. Outside was a huge round building. The pinpoint lights he’d seen from far away glowed brightly through large windows.

  “We’ve docked,” said Rueik.

  Karience ran her hands down her white cloak and straightened herself. “You’ll soon be meeting the other Guardians. They’re anxious to greet you. Come.” She waved for them to follow.

  Winter’s fingers tapped on his as they left the bridge, “You don’t feel bad for him… do you?”

  “I don’t know how to feel.”

  “I’m happy,” she tapped. “The past is erased.”

  Erased. The back of Aven’s neck tingled at the thought. Winter squeezed his hand. He put his arm around her as they followed Karience. Where was he going? Where was Winter taking him?

  CHAPTER 8

  WINTER

  Light poured from the hallway inside the large bubble structure. It was as if pieces of the sun had been captured and placed in strips that ran along the walls.

  Winter soaked it in. The lights. The strange edgeless architecture of circles and soft corners and rounded seams. Beautiful. Simple. For a girl who had lived in a hovel underground, it was exotic, and, as with the architecture, she found herself wondering what the forests and wildlands of these master builders looked like. She’d seen the ocean for the first time from the window on the bridge of The Relic. The breathtaking color of the vast water, the shore lined with cliffs. She experienced a yearning to put her feet down upon that shore and see it as humans were created to, eyes not so far from the ground. The view from the starship was grand, but it robbed one from hearing the sounds and smelling the aromas that were woven into the beauty of that space.

  She sighed at the recollection of the many places she’d spotted from up high that she would have loved to explore! Even here, underwater, there was so much to take in.

  As Karience led them, Winter noticed just how exquisite her shining grey hair was, twisted around almost as if it were a queen’s crown. She looked about fifty years, but her graceful movements were that of a younger woman, so full of life and purpose.

  “This is our undersea home, if we should ever need to live here again. It was built when we first arrived, before we moved into Anantium, your Royal City.

  A series of large portholes came into view as they continued down the hallway. Illumined outside, in the bluish green of the murky water, were long silver fish hovering above a rock outcropping. The rocks were covered by orange and red reedy plants. Kelp. A few smaller fish darted in and out of the underwater plants, which swayed slightly, as if there could be such a thing as wind under the water. But something moved the patch of kelp. It swayed in unison, touched by a…current beneath the water. And this overwhelming beauty was just outside the hall, surrounding them.

  Winter wanted to stop and stay here all day, and just look outside at the mysterious sights of the sea.

  “We keep the starship down here,” continued Karience. “That’s a standard on the primworlds. Can’t have the scientifically inclined getting a good long look at the mechanics.”

  Scientifically. Mechanics.

  The words became clear to her. Scientifically was a word describing how one studied the behavior of nature to find patterns and predictability, and use what was found to explain consistently why and how things work as they do. Mechanics was simply a word for how things worked. The knowledge thrilled her. How it seeped into her thoughts so effortlessly. Karience had described the care the Guardians took not to advance the primitive worlds, and Winter sensed the VOKK aiding her in understanding why that should be. It could kill their dignity, make them feel as if they were inferior, make them resentful. It would steal the joy of discovery and leave them with a sense that they would always be standing on the shoulders of another, and never on their own two feet.

  Winter understood this caution, but tasted none of the resentment. The VOKK was exhilarating!

  Karience ushered them in to a small room with a low metal bar running the length.

  “Hold tight,” said Rueik.

  “And prepare for some of your internal organs to shift about,” said Arentiss. “Some people are not agitated by the sensation, but if your biological make-up is similar to mine, you may experience the acute need to vomit.”

  Biological. Acute. Winter soaked the words in.

  Rueik snorted and looked at Winter, then her brother. “You’ll be fine. Arentiss feels like puking when she runs too fast.”

  “That’s not true,” said Arentiss. “He is contriving a joke without basis in reality. A habit of the intellectually lazy. I have never vomited while running. And having observed your lack of an exercise routine, I’d hypothesize that I could utterly defeat you in a foot race.”

  Rueik reached up and grabbed the metal bar with an air of exasperation. “Utterly? Truly?”

  Winter grabbed the bar with both hands.

  “If this makes you uncomfortable,” said Karience, “count to thirty as fast as you can and it will be over. Ready? Transport.”

  A hum blared in Winter’s ears and it immediately felt as if she were starting to fall. She gripped the bar like it was the edge of a cliff, her feet feeling as if they might lift off the floor. Arentiss was right, her insides were shifting about. It was a discomforting sensation, and with it came another noise. The housing that enclosed them began to shudder until the sound intensified into a raucous hammering matched only by the pounding of her heart pulsing in her throat.

  She looked up and saw Arentiss staring at the floor, face as white as cow’s milk. Behind her Rueik was watching, relaxed, a glint of humor again in his eyes.

  And then, abruptly, the noise and shaking stopped.

  Still gripping the bar, Winter felt her innards settle back into place.

  Aven took her hand and they followed Karience out of the moving room.

  “You alright?” tapped Aven.

  “My eyes touched the back of my head,” tapped Winter.

  Aven smiled, then tapped, “If I had left my mouth open, my heart would have shot out.”

  “Me too. Yuck.”

  Winter smiled, relieved to see Aven in such good humor. “How are you feeling about…today? Everything?”

  Aven tapped, “I don’t like this.”

  Winter hesitated. “I’m not forcing you to follow me.”
/>
  She waited a moment, but felt the tension in his fingers and added, “I want you to be happy, but I can’t be the sister you want me to be. I’m on a different road than you would choose.”

  “I know that,” tapped Aven. “I’m not talking about that.”

  “What then?”

  “The Guardians. We need to be cautious.”

  “Why?”

  “They have so much power. What they did to Pike. What they know about us. The thing they put in our brains—the VOKK. It’s too much control. It reminds me of the Baron and the Watch.”

  Winter winced. Her brother’s concerns were real, but she didn’t like the conclusion. Power was dangerous, but if in the right hands, it didn’t have to be. Wasn’t that what the Guardians were—a display of…power used for good? To bring peace to chaotic worlds?

  “This power feels different,” she tapped.

  “Maybe that’s because it’s craftier? Smarter? Hidden behind a mask.”

  She knew she shouldn’t be annoyed by her brother’s persistence, but she was. He didn’t trust the Makers, and she couldn’t expect him to. He didn’t have the peace she had. She was chosen, she was in the middle of the Makers’ plan, so she was free to follow without fear.

  “I’m willing to withhold judgment,” tapped Winter, “and I promise to be cautious.”

  Aven seemed like he wouldn’t respond, his fingers stiff in hers. Finally he tapped, “Alright.”

  It was good enough for Winter. She knew he wasn’t alright, but maybe time would change that.

  Karience stopped at an enormous metal door and voiced a command. The door opened in four pieces that slid back, like teeth disappearing into the gums of the wall.

  “The transporter has taken us from the sea port up to the top of the Guardian Tower,” said Karience. “It’s time for you to meet our Guardian Missionaries here on Loam.”