Wave Mandate

by Schneider, A. C.

  “Suit yourself, First Clan. You keep your honor, I’ll keep your ration.”

  And in that moment Dunner realized something about Mainlanders, Egra’s reaction serving as a light chasing away all shadowy obfuscation as to a clear demarcating line between the honor Mainlanders cherished and the amoral lives they led:

  Mainlanders, it occurred to him, on the whole, were nothing more than thieves, but thieves with the best of tastes. Simple money and power were not, in and of themselves, what attracted them. Mainlanders were honor thieves, seeking out the highest praise of a life well lived. And like all good thieves, they were willing to risk everything, even their own lives, to secure the object of their obsession.

  But also, like all good thieves, they weren’t willing to pay for it. They refused to invest what it took to earn honor; honesty, humility and the stalwart determination to live by these axioms, day-in/day-out, even if at times such conviction to principle might bring about temporary dishonor - like when having to admit to wrongdoing, for example. These things were anathema to Mainlanders and to anyone who failed to see that the deepest value in life lay in actions themselves, not in their rewards.

  This sudden realization explained everything. Raiders were after the immediate gratification of what he, Dunner, his Academic colleagues, and all good people earn, though never primarily, or at least exclusively, aim for.

  Egra walked back to the bridge and sat down next to the pilot. He tore open the water ration and guzzled away.

  It was so simple, Dunner had to laugh. He fought to keep quiet but the urge for this release from all his pent up anger and stress continued to build, sounds escaping his clamped jaw in squeals easily misconstrued as pain, his curled up body convulsing with each chortle looking like the writhing of the wounded, one thought dancing around in his mind all the while, stoking his subdued outburst like a poker to flame:

  Thieves.

  Chapter 29: Rescue

  The Prophecy, Caras 1

  “What do you mean, attacked?”

  Quinn and Lyza walked side by side at a hurried pace, making their way over to the Tower and speaking in tones that had their conversation developing its own gravitational field, dragging down their voices to a decibel level especially suited to whisperings full of anxious speculation.

  “Where’ve you been, Quinn?”

  “You know exactly where I’ve been, Lyza, wallowing alone in my room. Think - you might remember picking me up from there about thirty seconds ago.”

  “Wow, someone’s in a mood.”

  Quinn sighed. “This place is insufferable without Annie.”

  “Oh, that’s right. How is Annie, by the way?”

  “Fine, far as I know.”

  “Is she now?” Lyza’s eyes twinkled with their usual mischievous curiosity. “What’s the real reason she’s being kept in quarantine, anyway?”

  Quinn ignored the implication of conspiracy and responded with the same rehearsed answer she’d been repeating time and time again to dozens of her fellow Sisters since Analel was rushed to the infirmary. “She succumbed to an offensive Wave Thought and was out of commission for several days. They’re just keeping an eye on her now, making sure everything’s OK.”

  “That’s what bedrest is for, Quinn, not quarantine.”

  It was these kinds of questions, and the tediousness of keeping up appearances, that had made Quinn such a recluse of late. However, try as she might, she couldn’t seem to find any realistic way of avoiding it all, for after all, here she was answering more of them. A friend’s duty is never done with, she thought heavily to herself, and keeping her gaze fixed straight ahead, spoke in a way that was clearly stonewalling. “You know as much as I do at this point.”

  “Uh huh, sure.”

  “Look, forget about Annie for a minute. What’s the deal with this attack?”

  Lyza grudgingly dropped the Analel issue, becoming serious again. “Supposedly all of Academy Island is scorched earth.”

  “No!”

  “The Academy’s gone. Everything. Raiders somehow managed to level it all. We don’t know how many survived. There are reports that most of the Students managed to get out but nothing’s confirmed. Overall, it looks bad, Quinn.”

  “I don’t believe it!

  “I know what you mean. It is unbelievable. Every available Mother’s conducting emergency Search & Rescue sessions but time is critical so they’re bringing in the oldest and most experienced Children to help out, especially with the Student searches.”

  “So we’re going to the Tower, then?”

  “You’re the last one the Mothers requested.”

  “They should have requested Annie.”

  “Exactly!” exclaimed Lyza, and then quickly she turned around, checking to see if anyone were walking behind them who might have caught her sudden outburst. To her relief they were alone. With noticeable effort she lowered her voice again. “Which is why I thought it was odd they were still keeping her in quarantine, even at a time like this.”

  Quinn wasn’t about to revisit that conversation. “But how could this have happened?” she asked, steering matters back to their former focus.

  “No one knows.”

  “The Academy is supposed to be a fortress: Who? Who would do this? Who could do this?”

  “Would? I can think of an entire continent that would. Could? I have no idea. Unlike present company, I mean it when I say that right now, you know about as much as I do.”

  “That’s a disturbing thought.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  The two Child Prophets concluded their conversation just as they entered the massive Tower foyer. Mother Elaina was waiting for them by the elevators. “What a surprise to see you again, Quinn. And a relief at that, I should add; one less missing person to have to worry about.”

  “Yes, Mother.” Under normal circumstances Quinn wouldn’t have allowed such a reprimand to go by without coloring it up a bit with her penchant for sarcasm, but these weren’t normal circumstances and Quinn didn’t feel much like her normal self. Mother Elaina, for her part, was expecting a bit more spunk from the most outspoken Child at the Prophecy. When she saw it was a deflated Quinn standing before her instead of the feisty girl she’d known and grown to tolerate, she softened her tone, just a little.

  “Never mind that now, Child. We have lots of work to do. Come along.”

  Elaina entered the elevator closest to her, Lyza and Quinn following in the wake of her cloak. Like all Mothers, no indication of the intense concentration required to project Wave Thoughts could be detected in Elaina’s demeanor as she sent the elevator car rising through the Tower’s shaft toward CentCon.

  “Are we going to level 126?” asked Lyza.

  “Yes.”

  “How many?” asked Quinn.

  “Excuse me?”

  “How many have we confirmed… already… that were… lost?”

  Elaina tilted her head toward Quinn, her eyes conveying an untold measure of repressed sadness. “Too many, Child.”

  Quinn looked away as she voiced her next sentiment. “They should be letting Analel out. She can help.”

  Elaina was particularly close with Erin so the whole affair involving Analel had unsettled her more than most of the other Mothers. With circumstances being what they were it was hard to argue with Quinn, and the Grand Mother’s decision had become that much more difficult for her to pallet. She returned to facing the elevator doors, not trusting her eyes to keep from giving away the extent of her true feelings on the subject. “I’m sure the Grand Mother has her reasons, even if to some they may seem a bit… harsh, perhaps even… impractical, at the moment.”

  Both Quinn and Lyza looked up at Mother Elaina in shock. This was the most scathing criticism either one of them had ever heard levied against the Grand Mother by a member of the Motherhood. However, shortly thereafter the elevator doors opened to a frenzy of activity and they forgot all about that most rare case of partial candor ever expresse
d by a Prophet to someone their junior regarding someone their senior.

  All PropS on level 126 were currently active and the teams appeared to be gearing up for many hours of extended Prophesying. Mother and Child alike were moving from one station to another, coordinating efforts. The Central Mist Tube was flashing bright, far more so than Quinn had ever remembered it doing so in the past, its contents of consciousness-given-form changing shapes and colors inside its crystalline glass enclosure at a frenetic pace. The entire scene was overwhelming and Quinn had to fight off a sudden urge to sit down.

  “Let’s go, Children. PropS 12. Every second saved, saves lives.” The trio hustled out of the elevator and wove their way throughout the room, the same urgency infecting the entire level now beginning to rub off on them, as well. Quinn spied a number of Child Prophets at various PropS scattered throughout the level. Curiously, she did not see those known to be the most talented of her Sisters numbered among them, Arah being the most obvious example coming to mind. She had to assume it was because the most accomplished Children were working from inside the Box. Coincidentally, Elaina’s first question upon reaching PropS 12 happened to be on that very subject.

  “Which one of you is going in?”

  Turning to Lyza, Quinn said, “I didn’t bring my Reader so-.”

  “Oh, I’ve got it right here, stopped off at the Library before I came to get you.” Quinn regarded Lyza quizzically. Lyza answered Quinn’s unspoken question in a tone that cut through all pretense. “You’re the big meditator and I’m the natural liaison. It makes sense.”

  “You’re just as good-.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “I can liaise-.”

  “No, Quinn, you can’t.”

  Quinn was about to say something else, stopped herself, turned to Elaina and said, “She’s right.”

  Satisfied, Elaina exhorted the girls, “Let’s get going then. Time is not our friend today.”

  Quinn rubbed her hands together. “OK, whose Card am I reading first?”

  Mother Elaina pointed to a tall stack of Student Wave Cards sitting atop PropS 12’s console. “Start with those. I’ll be back soon with more.”

  Quinn and Elaina stared at the daunting pile. As Child Prophets they were used to one Card per session. This was going to be an entirely different kind of animal, both physically and mentally exhausting in ways neither of them had ever experienced before. “Should’ve packed a lunch,” noted Quinn, dryly.

  Elaina allowed herself a smile despite the circumstances. Quinn was returning to form, spunk and all.

  Good.

  With her marathon session just beginning, she was going to need every ounce of it.

  Chapter 30: Debt

  Mid orbit, on route to Caras 3

  “Did you feel that?”

  Analel didn’t, but she hadn’t been reaching out with any kind of intent to pick up on subtle Wave ripples - being too distracted by her conversation with Kelerin and thereby inadvertently proving the wisdom of the Prophecy’s policy for not becoming overly familiar with one’s Academic, much to her chagrin - so her not having felt anything, didn’t necessarily mean anything. She expanded her consciousness to check out the rest of the ship.

  “I don’t see anything out of the ordinary.”

  “It felt like we hit something.” Kelerin was already sitting up in his cot, ears trained to the wall.

  Analel continued to expand outside the vessel. “It wasn’t us hitting something. There’s another ship out here, and it’s docking.”

  “What kind of ship?”

  “Looks like a Life Pod… Wait… Kelerin, it looks exactly like those ships that attacked the Academy!”

  She didn’t have to say anymore. Launching himself out of bed completely, Kelerin pounded on the door’s access mechanism. It slid open and he ran through, cutting a sharp left and skirting between the galley and the communal table, heading straight for the double doors of the bridge. Again he pounded on the access mechanism. The doors opened up and he barged through, not waiting for permission from the Captain who was standing in his usual position, leaning over his chair and watching the monitor on his console. The pilot sat silently at the Captain’s side, engrossed in the tiny adjustments so critical to ensuring a smooth hull capture for mid-flight docking.

  Without looking up from his screen, the Captain addressed Kelerin. “Back yourself straight off my bridge-”

  “Cancel the dock, Captain!”

  “-and request permission to enter like everybody else on this ship.”

  “CANCEL THE DOCK!”

  It was the perceived impudence in Kelerin’s outburst, more than the urgency, that finally succeeded in winning enough of the esteem of the Captain, even if negatively so, as to be deserving eye contact.

  “What are you yelling about?”

  “You can’t let that ship dock.”

  “Cardinal rule of rock hauling, genius. You always drop everything for a fellow ship in distress. Today it’s them, tomorrow it’s you.”

  “You don’t understand-.”

  “No, you don’t understand!” exploded the Captain, pounding a meaty fist on his console. “You’re so obsessed with your own issues, you don’t realize other people might actually have crises all their own. What? You think you’re the only one to ever find themselves on the wrong side of Life’s sense of humor? I got news for you, genius-”

  “LISTEN TO ME! Those aren’t victims, you stubborn, uneducated hauler. Those are raiders!”

  “Excuse me?”

  “That Life Pod. It’s the same as the ones that attacked the Academy. Those aren’t refugees, Captain. They’re raiders - Cancel the dock!”

  The Captain hesitated, staring at Kelerin with nervous skepticism. “C’mon, kid, that’s crazy talk,” he said, voicing the words but not backing them up with any kind of confidence, the passion of his outburst only moments ago, all but gone. A sound of the final locking mechanism clicking into place reverberated throughout the hull and the Captain turned to the view screen on his console. Kelerin came up behind him, peering over his shoulder.

  The feed came from multiple strategic angles covering every section of ship. With the Captain’s attention clearly directed to a specific feed segment, the monitor auto-zoomed in and brought up that area of interest, in this case, the access corridor. There wasn’t any audio coming through yet but the picture was clear enough and it showed Gowdy working with Wollo to open the hull capture hatch. The big man yanked down on the safety lever, Gowdy standing front and center pounded on the depressor.

  From that point onward, everything sped up.

  A boot was visible for a fraction of a second, kicking through the hull capture entranceway and catching Gowdy square in the chest. The stocky crewman backpedaled, crashing into the opposite side of the narrow corridor before slumping down along the wall onto his rear. That kick would have put most men out of commission, but Gowdy hung in there, struggling back to his feet. The big man’s face contorted into something scary and he made like he was about to charge whoever it was on the other side of that entranceway, but something he saw or heard made him back off with his hands held high, pause, and then back up a few more steps to the left. Gowdy did the same.

  A Pulser muzzle peaked its way into view shortly thereafter, followed a second later by the raider carrying it. The raider emerged cautiously, shimmying around the corner of the hatchway to the right and keeping a tactical degree of operational space between himself and the two crewmen. A second raider followed the first. He was shouting something at the haulers, driving them backward toward the communal section while the first raider, now behind, turned and walked backwards, matching his partner’s pace and covering their rear.

  It was obvious these men were not your typical raiders. More like soldiers, professional and highly trained. The Captain said, “Ket Ket, bring up Audio.” The feed’s audio kicked in and they heard the raiders shouting, “WHERE’S THE CAPTAIN? WHERE’S THE CAPTAIN?”


  Kelerin turned to his host who was still staring at the monitor in disbelief. He figured now was his chance. “Captain, give me back my Wave Whip.” The Captain didn’t respond at first so Kelerin persisted. “Let me take care of this before we completely lose control of the situation.”

  A look of stoic responsibility set the Captain’s features. “Tell me, Academic. How have we not completely lost control of the situation already?” He turned to the pilot. “Hail the Island Guard on the emergency channel.”

  “Way ahead of you, Cap, but we’re far out. No response yet and it could be a while.”

  “I know. Keep trying. In the meantime, hold my baby steady and don’t do anything stupid till I get back.”

  With that, the Captain shouldered passed Kelerin and walked out of the bridge. It took Kelerin a full second to realize what the Captain was going to do, crazy as it was, at which point he quickly chased after him. “Give me back my Whip and we’ll turn the tables on them. We’ll take back the element of surprise.”

  The Captain didn’t slow down or change course. “I told you. No Whips, Pulsers or energy weapons of any kind in space flight.”

  “A little late for that, Captain, don’tchya think?”

  “All the more reason not to add to the problem. One stray lash or Pulse on this ship and we’re all dead. We’ll be doing the job for them.” The Captain had already cleared half of the communal room heading straight for the access corridor. Kelerin quit his pursuit and called after him. “So what, you’re just going to march out there? Unarmed?”

  “I’m the Captain. My ship, my responsibility.”

  “And what’s that gonna accomplish?”