Wave Mandate

by Schneider, A. C.

  Kelerin smiled. “Good to see you again, Captain.”

  “Love what you’ve done with the place,” commented Gowdy, a typical tactless reaction by the hauler surveying the scene of destruction.

  Kelerin had to laugh. There was something comforting about Gowdy’s complete social ineptitude. “And you, Gowdy.” Lastly, he nodded a greeting at the large man, “Wollo,” who returned the favor. Kelerin didn’t see Analel anywhere. Nervous, he asked, “Were you not able to get her?”

  “Why do you say that?” Urmston stepped aside and Kelerin saw that concealed inside the triangle formation of the mining crew was a cloaked Prophet Child. The Prophet removed her hood and Kelerin caught his breath:

  Analel didn’t have the stunning, sophisticated beauty of her mother. Hers’ was something less tangible, more a living function of her total existence than an appreciative description of various physical attributes. It was hard to put a finger on it. Life itself seemed to be enveloping her. She exuded an aura of vitality, bursting forth with every micro movement of her being. Her rich brown eyes, the color of tilled earth, and Kelerin wouldn’t have been surprised to find out that the waves of her hair, much like the waves of the Telorn Sea, were influenced by the waxing and waning of the four moons.

  “Hey, genius, you still with me?” Urmston was leaning over into Kelerin’s field of vision, an inquiring look on his face.

  “Yes, sorry. Thanks for bringing her.”

  “Don’t thank me. Debt’s paid up in full and we’ll leave it at that.”

  “No can do.”

  “Are you out of your mind? You wanted the girl, I got you the girl. Debt paid. Period.”

  Kelerin flashed Urmston a cheeky grin. “Friends are never out of debt with each other, Captain.” He held out a hand to shake.

  Urmston frowned. “Humph,” was the only verbal answer he would give before eventually accepting the hand and shaking it. “You need us to stick around?” he offered after some consideration.

  “Thanks, but this is kind of an Academic thing. You know, for us geniuses. You people wouldn’t understand.”

  “Ha!” Urmston laughed, heartily. “Wasn’t gonna stick around, anyway. Dumped the beginnings of an Ipsidian haul back at our claim before leaving on your little errand. Should pick that up’for someone else does and Gowdy mounts a one man mutiny.”

  Kelerin laughed. “Probably a good idea.”

  “Well, you know where to find me if you ever need me.” With that, Captain Urmston turned and walked back to his ship. Gowdy cocked his head over at Wollo to signal that he should follow him, but before leaving he said to Kelerin, rather uncharacteristically, “You take care o’that girl.”

  “I intend to.” And not that he needed any more convincing, but the fact that Analel managed to make enough of an impression on so coarse a hauler in so short a time that he too was looking out for her wellbeing, only further confirmed his suspicions that Analel was a very special kind of girl. A final departing word to his new friends, “Fly safe, Captain.”

  “Never,” Urmston called back from the precipice of the gangplank as it retracted into the hull.

  Kelerin and Analel watched the Miner take off and depart from the island sky. When they each looked back down they were facing each other, standing a meter apart.

  “So,” began Kelerin.

  “So…”

  Pause.

  “It’s strange, not hearing you inside my head.”

  “It’s strange not being inside your head.”

  Another awkward pause, then Kelerin asked, “Any ideas yet why we’re connected like this?”

  “Not a one.”

  Kelerin’s staring at Analel, unabashedly, gave her the impression that he thought if he could just look hard enough, close enough, he might actually be able to see the source of their unique bond lying dormant somewhere, deep inside her. His gaze was too intense for her. She turned away to survey the crater. “It’s terrible,” she remarked, “just awful.” An attempt at redirecting his attention away from her, but it was also true, a sincere offer of condolence.

  He followed her gaze. “Yeah.” A simple acknowledgment of a sad reality.

  “They’re going to come after us. Aren’t they?”

  “I hope they do. I need you to show the others what we saw.”

  Analel turned to face him. “That won’t be as simple as you’re making it out to be.”

  He kept his eyes where they were. “Why not?”

  “For one, I’ll have to be close, real close. I don’t have a connection with them the way I do with you, and I don’t have their Wave Cards to study their patterns in advance, which brings me to the other thing, it’ll take time. I’m not a Prophet Mother. I can’t just pop into people’s heads on command. I need sensory deprivation, Mist emersion, it’s a process.”

  “I thought the Mist was only for distance?”

  “It is, in theory. Being up close mitigates the need for it, but not the need to concentrate. It’ll take time.”

  “Time I can give you,” he assured her.

  “How?”

  “I’ve got a plan.”

  “There’s one more thing,” Kelerin faced her, letting her know he was paying full attention, “I’m assuming these Academics already have Prophets assigned to them?”

  “They do.”

  “Then to reach them will entail an offensive Wave Thought, like the one that knocked me out of your consciousness during the duel.” He waited expectantly for what he already knew was coming next. “… I’ve never pulled one off before,” she confessed.

  He returned to looking out over the crater, stating matter-of-factly, “First time for everything, Prophet.” They drifted into a silent vigil over the destruction, digesting the view and the reality they were coming face to face with. After a short while, Kelerin spoke up again. “Are you scared?”

  “Should I be?”

  “Mmm, yeah. I’d say so.”

  “Comforting.” He shrugged. “Still,” she said after another moment to consider, “I trust you.”

  “It’s my baby face.”

  She laughed, the first time he’d heard her laugh. The sound was a ray of light peeking through the ash clouds, a breath of fresh air among the sediment, and it didn’t belong there. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought her, he thought, doubting the wisdom of risking her life now that he was becoming more acquainted with its value.

  “What?” she asked at last, seeing him staring at her again.

  “Nothing.”

  He turned away, and that’s when he heard the second set of engines.

  *****

  Orisius/Kelerin

  Despite being a fair distance away, the distinctive, stubby shape of the Island Guard Monitor was impossible to miss. Its unique form factor, the byproduct of a single contractor servicing eight separate clients representing the richest and most influential Islands on Osmos, each with its own specific set of ideas as to what should be included in the mission-adaptable, collaboratively designed craft.

  The stubby frame allowed for lift, surprisingly, but it also allowed for buoyancy and the craft doubled as a submersible. Stubbiness also meant more cabin room so Monitors could carry extra supplies on extended space voyages, could be outfitted for triage and serve as a first responder rescue option, or could be cleared out with space maximized for troop transport, and of course it could fight.

  In the end, the ship was able to do many things well but nothing great, similar to the committee that spawned it.

  Kelerin weighed his options as the ship conducted a reconnaissance pass over the island. He wasn’t worried about their being fired upon from the air. Clearly it was the cruiser the headmaster was after and he wouldn’t risk damaging it. So long as Kelerin and Analel stood close enough to the ship they would be safe from any air assault.

  The Monitor began its descent on a section of the crater rim adjacent to the cruiser. He kept his eyes on the Monitor’s progress while scanning the bottom fuselage o
f the cruiser and looking for the two leverage points of his plan. Following the piping beneath the ship he believed he had a pretty good idea of where they were. Committing the target to muscle memory, understanding the exact force and angling, he then made sure to stand just clear of the cruiser, straddling his legs and squaring his shoulders. He said to Analel, “Stand here, next to me, and cover your mouth and eyes.” She complied, taking up position just behind him and to his right. He drew his Whip, activated the Disruption setting, and waited.

  The Monitor touched down and the two of them were caught up in another mini storm of ash and debris that continued well after the ship’s engines had already quieted down. A moment later the Monitor’s hatch opened and the team of Academics he was formerly a part of filed out one by one. They all had the same disbelieving reaction when they first exited the ship, looking around at what had once been the center of Osmos for culture, knowledge and the pursuit of academic excellence - and for a split second, this group of pursuers forgot all about Kelerin and the cruiser in the face of their surroundings and the stark reality it brought to bear.

  Good, he thought, phase one of the plan accomplished.

  Orisius exited last and paused longer than the rest, surveying the destruction around him. Knowing what he did, Kelerin picked up on subtle tells the Headmaster gave off that spoke to a more complex, visceral reaction than those who exited first. However, deeper as his reaction may have been, he also recovered faster. Gathering together his entourage, they all walked toward Kelerin and the cruiser, shoulder to shoulder, Jonas and Halbard on the left, Dunner and Valix on the right, the Headmaster in the middle. They approached cautiously but confidently, only Valix having his Wave Whip drawn, its subatomic tail snaking along the ground and leaving behind an ominous trail of displaced ash in its wake. Kelerin noticed Dunner shadowing Valix, keeping a close eye on him the entire time, clearly not trusting his classmate with an active Whip under the circumstances. Thank the Creator for loyal friends, he thought, because Valix looked like he was itching for a fight.

  By contrast, Jonas wore a pained and worried kind of expression. Seeing his mentor hurting like that, and knowing it was because of him and his perceived fall from grace, was not something Kelerin had prepared for. For an imperceptible measure of time, an imperceptible measure of his resolve wavered, but he looked over at Ananlel who was looking right back at him, seeking his assurance, and he tightened the grip on his Whip. Speaking quietly so that only she could here, he said, “Let me know when they’re close enough for you to attempt an offensive Wave Thought.”

  “I can only work on one of them at a time, and I doubt there’ll be time for more than that.”

  “Fine. Focus on Jonas. You know which one that is?”

  “I think so.”

  “The one on the far left.”

  “Got it. I’ll need-.”

  “Time, I know. Let me deal with it.”

  “They’re in range now.”

  Addressing the advancing line, Kelerin said, “That’s far enough.” The phalanx had come within five meters of the cruiser when the Headmaster, responding to Kelerin’s call, held up both his hands, the line halting in unison. “I came back to the Island because I knew you’d follow me, Headmaster. How do you like your handiwork?”

  Jonas spoke with real pain in his voice. “Kelerin, what have you done?”

  “Me?” he exclaimed, indignant, “Him!” he pointed an accusing finger at Orisius.

  The Headmaster alone took one step closer to Kelerin, breaking ranks with the rest of the group. “Come back to us, Kelerin,” he beckoned. “Whatever happened, whatever mistakes have been made-”

  “Stop! Just stop talking,” Kelerin demanded.

  “What’re you gonna to do, Kel?” goaded Valix. “You’re outmatched, outnumbered,” his next warning spoken with halting inflection, “put-the-Whip-down.” Valix took a step forward and Kelerin gave a sharp flick of his wrist. Valix quickly dropped to a knee, deploying his Rippler to fend off the incoming attack, but the lash never came anywhere near him.

  “NO!” cried Orisius, just before a small explosion went off toward the cruiser’s aft. The whole body of the ship shuddered and dropped a degree lower from where it sat perched above the ground on its landing gear. Every Academic in the line instinctively jumped back a step at the explosion’s report. Only the Headmaster held his ground, reaching out feebly with a hand in a reflex gesture to try and stop the inevitable from happening after the fact. When he saw that the cruiser was still intact, he relaxed somewhat.

  “That was a warning,” cautioned Kelerin. “All I did was take out the propulsion engines. She’s grounded for now, but she lives. Directly above me, inside the ship, are the power generators. I hit those and this crater gets a whole lot bigger than it already is.”

  “You’re bluffing,” challenged Valix. “The blast will incinerate you and your traitor girlfriend. Suicide’s not your style, Kel. It’s not Academic. Neither is incidental homicide, incidentally.”

  “Incidentally, Val,” retorted Kelerin, throwing Valix’s patronizing tone right back at him, “I got a Rippler, just like you.”

  “It won’t be enough protection.”

  “It was plenty enough when this entire island blew up after you abandoned me here. Given the size of that blast, I think it can handle a lone cruiser.”

  “Why don’t we test out your theory, then,” suggested Valix, sporting the same infuriating smirk Kelerin remembered from their duel.

  “Enough!” Orisius held out two placating hands, letting Kelerin know no one under his charge was going to do anything to provoke him. It also suggested all Orisius wished to do was talk, which was fine with Kelerin. All he wanted to do was talk, for as long as possible.

  Phase two accomplished, he thought.

  “It doesn’t have to be this way, Kelerin. This might all be just a big misunderstanding on both our parts. Things aren’t always what they seem-”

  “Ha!” Kelerin laughed, bitterly.

  Orisius pressed on, ignoring his Student’s dismissive behavior. “Put the Whip down, we’ll put our Whips down, and we’ll speak as educated men.”

  Clever, thought Kelerin. The Headmaster was trying to give him a way out. Show him there was a window he could still squeeze back through to the side of blind faith and willful naivety. He didn’t have to lose the life he had known up until now and he didn’t have to lose his sense of innocence and moral clarity in the process. He could have it all. He just had to give in to the tempting suggestion that maybe he’d heard wrong. Maybe it was all just a big misunderstanding, as the Headmaster had put it?

  Kelerin wasn’t buying it. He knew exactly what he’d heard back at the Habitat, knew exactly what he’d seen. Addressing the rest of his Academic colleagues and mentors, he presented his case. “None of you are going to believe me but there’s something you should all know about our beloved Headmaster.”

  “Is that so?” asked Orisius, a patronizing tone as he pivoted with the flow of this verbal joust. “What exactly should they know about me, Kelerin, do tell?” He was trying to rile him up, Kelerin knew, get him to act all emotional. An emotional man making accusations doesn’t come off as very credible to an unbiased audience. He knew all this, was aware of the strategy. Unfortunately, his awareness did little to stop it from working.

  “Our Headmaster’s a fraud! A traitor! He was collaborating with the Aberrations.”

  “You’re not making this easier on yourself, young Student.”

  “I’m a Teacher now, Headmaster,” he hissed, acerbically, “or don’t you remember?” Then, continuing to address the rest of the entourage, “Did you ever wonder how the Aberrations were able to avoid our air defenses. Not a single shot was fired, why? I’ll tell you why; the Headmaster gave the Aberrations the access codes, that’s why, isn’t that right, Headmaster?”

  Jonas appraised his mentor more carefully and Kelerin saw the first ray of hope penetrating the cloud of doom hanging over him
since Caras 4, or was that Analel making progress with her Prophecy?

  “I didn’t want to have to do this, Kelerin, but I saw you,” countered the Headmaster, as cool and collected as ever, “I saw you talking to the Second Son.”

  “That’s a lie!”

  “You told him destroying the Academy wasn’t the deal. You told him you would have gotten him the cruiser like he asked, if only he would have waited.”

  “That was you, not me!” The words rang hollow, even to Kelerin’s own ears, following as they did, Orisius’ version.

  “I know you didn’t mean for it to go this far. I know you never expected the destruction of the Academy to be the result of your infidelity. I know, not in your wildest dreams, did you foresee all the deaths of our Academic colleagues who paid for your betrayal-”

  “LIAR!”

  “We can still work this out, Kelerin,” The Headmaster continued. “It’s never too late.”

  “It was him, not me!” Kelerin pleaded to the other Academics standing around like judges at his trial, but he could see in their eyes he was losing the battle for their belief, their trust. Even Dunner looked conflicted. Analel was still lost in her trance. Was she making progress? He couldn’t tell. Clearly no one was leaping to his aid so he had to assume the answer was no. He’d fought, fought valiantly, but he’d lost. However, that didn’t mean the Headmaster would win, not if he could help it.

  Raising his Whip for the decisive lash, he heard Orisius’ desperate cry, “STOP HIM!” and felt a twinge of vindictive pleasure, but his final act of vengeance was not to be. Before he could bring his Whip down to strike the power generators, it was cut in two. Whirling around he found Valix, who’d somehow managed to sneak up behind him, gaining position from the rear. The Headmaster was playing him this entire time, distracting him, setting him up to be taken by surprise. Analel’s eyes were still closed, seemingly oblivious to the danger they were in.

  So much for phase three, he thought.

  “I’ll say it again, Kel,” Valix, clearly enjoying himself now, “Drop the Whip. Oh wait, you already did.”