The Orphans of New Lur

by Blake Vanier

  Korbin tries to shove past. “I just want to see it.”

  “Yeah. I believe that.” Ryder pushes him back. “Leave Nero be.”

  “Really? I can have it?” Nero asks.

  Ryder shrugs. “I’m not sure any of this is a good idea… I give up. Do what you want.”

  “But Ryder―” Korbin protests.

  “Just leave it, Korbin. You already got one.”

  Thea jumps and claps. “Yay, Nero. Open it!”

  Nero twists the locking mechanism and a very faint grey mist flows out. As it coheres, Nero’s breath creates eddies in what looks like a distortion of the light; like ripples in water. Nero reaches out and it makes only the slightest movement away. As soon as he touches the mist, his vision goes dark.

  A lone floating orb, burning with soft white light hangs in front of him. As he reaches for it, he can feel something odd… something familiar… What is that? He resists the temptation of taking the awesome power that the orb promises. Its warmth brings with it a sense of completeness; filling a void Nero only now recognizes he has. Beyond this, he senses fear.

  But why? This will help me fit in with the others. I need this! For the first time in his life, he realizes he is not afraid. But if it isn’t me… then… is it the mist? No way. That’s crazy. Just take it! He tries to shake his mind clear of the feeling but every time he reaches for the power he is frozen by an overwhelming fear, an all too familiar wall. But why is it afraid? It’s just a stupid cloud of mist… Am I about to kill it? Can it even be killed? Stop this, Nero! Just take it! You need it to fit in and be strong… He makes one last push for the warmth but finally gives up and relaxes. Is it worth it? I can’t kill it… Suddenly he is overwhelmed by a gut-wrenching flood of memories, good and bad from throughout his life. It is as if they are being ripped from him. His skin crawls as the darkness around him closes in, confining him into a smaller and smaller space. He tries to stop the memories, but they keep coming. Panic grips his chest and throat, making it hard to breathe. A hot lance of pain travels through his body and out his limbs. The burning orb brightens just before it disappears from his vision with a flash of violet. Suddenly, he feels like he is falling.

  A faint voice echoes through Nero’s semi-conscious mind. “Nero! Wake up!”

  Nero opens his eyes to sees everyone huddled around him. The concern is apparent on their faces. The pain that had gripped him so entirely just a moment ago, fades.

  Ryder sees Nero’s eyes and lightly punches his arm. “That’s for scaring us!”

  Nero sits up, shoving Ryder away. “Don’t hit me.” A wave of hostility drives Nero to pounce on Ryder but Ryder’s shocked face causes him to hesitate. Why am I so upset? He looks at the other children, who are equally surprised, and takes a breath. His blood cools. “I’m sorry, Ryder, I didn’t mean it. What happened?”

  “You touched it, just like everyone else,” Korbin says, “but nothing happened for a second. Then you started to shake and passed out. It was weird. The mist kinda just disappeared, but you didn’t absorb it. I guess you’re just too weak,” Korbin says.

  Ryder helps Nero up. “Okay, everyone, give him a break and a little space to breathe.”

  “I knew this was a bad idea.” Iona walks over to the window shaking her head. “Woo!” She points outside. “Uh, hey, there are a lot of trucks coming down the road,” she says.

  Thea presses her face to the dirty window to see a group of dark vehicles speeding toward town. “Are those Minis?”

  “Yeah they definitely are. Probably military by their size,” Iona says.

  Korbin hurries to the window. “You think it has to do with the canisters?”

  Ryder steps back from the glass. “We need to get out of here and get back to Fae. She’ll know what to do.”

  The children grab their things and quickly follow Ryder down the stairs and outside. Ryder, Korbin, Thea, and Iona tear through the crumbling streets as fast as they can go. Nero struggles to keep up, but they slowly gain distance. His burning lungs and legs protest. He cannot even find the breath to yell for them to wait. By the time he makes it through the storm drain and back up the creek, the other children are far away.

  Nero forces himself to continue. Oh no, oh no, oh no. I’m going to get caught by the Minis! What am I going to do? What are they going to do to me? He continually glances behind, spurred by a sinking feeling he is not alone. It’s just my imagination, calm down… There is no way they’re already looking for me.

  When he finally makes it to town, there are no Humans in sight. Instead, Erohsian light infantry are everywhere. Their dark grey body suits are hashed with silver lines. Black visors come down from their grey helmets, only exposing the pale skin around their mouth. The Erohsians are moving around the town in groups of three, looking only slightly bigger than teenagers. One soldier in each group has a large metal backpack attached to a device they are carrying in hand.

  Nero hides from view, his thoughts racing. I just need to get home. It’ll be safe there. If I can just make a run for it… Desperation tramples caution and Nero jumps out of his hiding spot, turning toward home.

  Just as he rounds the corner, he slams into an unusually tall Erohsian officer. He falls to the ground. The officer’s light grey military uniform matches the hat sitting atop her hair. Once she regains her balance, her pale blue eyes take a moment to register Nero, and when they do, they turn ice cold. Nero scrambles to his feet but is roughly grabbed by one of the three soldiers with her. Nero barely takes notice of the pain shooting through his arm. His mind is ensnared by the glare of the officer.

  The officer asks him what he’s doing. Oh no, does she know? Nero barely squeezes out a response when she asks a second time. Did I just say something about breakfast? Oh great, I’m doomed! She talks with one of the soldiers. So many thoughts race through Nero’s head, all he hears is gibberish. One of the soldiers with the large backpacks walks up to Nero and points a deadly weapon at him. Nero closes his eyes, shrinking away. The iron grip on his arm holds him in place. All the muscles in his body start to twitch and he holds his breath. Oh please, no…

  Nero hears the button on the weapon click several times. He waits for pain that does not come. He opens his eyes, patting himself, frantically looking for wounds. I’m not dead?

  The soldier with the device shakes his head. “No Aether, Ma’am. I’m not even getting a reading.”

  The officer looks down at Nero. Two evil eyes burn into him. “Alright Human, get out of my sight!”

  To Nero’s relief and amazement, the soldier tosses him in the most comfortable pile of rocky rubble he has ever fallen into. The Erohsians storm off without looking back.

  3

  Isis B.

  Isis

  A young Erohsian lieutenant in the standard light grey uniform stands stiffly in front of an officer’s desk in an immaculately clean office. Light scintillates off small beads of sweat on his forehead. The only sound is the officer’s fingers pitter-pattering over her glass keyboard. The lieutenant shifts awkwardly and looks out at the immensity of the capital. They are ninety floors up and in the center of the largest military complex in Sunta. In the distance, at the heart of the city, glass and cement skyscrapers of incredible height reach up toward the sky like slender stalks of prairie grass.

  “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” The ranking officer’s voice stabs through the silence. Her eyes remain focused on her paper-thin computer screen.

  The young man winces, but quickly regains a modicum of composure. “Yes ma’am!” He squawks with a shocking amount of vigor. His face reddens.

  Isis finishes a thought, looking up at him with an unexpected fire in her pale blue eyes. “Then shouldn’t you start, already?”

  The man stares back at her, eyes wide, jaw slack, and knees on the verge of buckling. “Oh… yes, right away!”

  Isis shakes her head, typing once more. Pathetic. And command wonders why we have problems.

  The man looks ove
r a holographic display emanating from the band on his wrist. “I have details from the latest report which you requested on the newborn ailment,” he announces. Isis looks up at him with daggers shooting from her eyes, and the man hurriedly continues. She goes back to typing. “In the heart of Sunta, newborn numbers this month have reduced even further, which puts us down eight percent from the average five years ago. The ailment is now measurable in some of the smaller sections of Sunta as well.”

  Isis presses her fingers hard into her keyboard. Her fingertips turn white. “Lieutenant, do you happen to have any useful information? Even the Human cattle could have predicted that,” she says without looking up.

  “Yes ma’am, I was getting to the interesting part.”

  “Do you feel my time is unimportant?” She looks up at him. He shakes his head rapidly. “Well, then, maybe you should consider that the next time you speak. Stop wasting my time and leave me to decide what’s important. Now please―what is this ‘interesting’ information?”

  The man swallows quickly. “The Nesivians are showing the greatest reduction, followed by the Borukins in Kiats, with the Thumarians in Calahzan not far behind. The Humans, on the other hand, continue to show the most resistance. The ailment seems to be tightly connected with the population density and the natural Aether abilities of the race.”

  “And they’re just figuring this out? Perhaps you have some ideas on what is causing it?”

  The man averts his eyes. “No…”

  Useless… “What else? Anything new on the Havityn?”

  “The latest Havityn model confirms that Havityn Isidore won’t hit the city and there’s only a twenty percent chance of manifesting itself further. Currently it is at twelve percent localization. We are taking the proper precautions, just in case.” Isis continues to type on her computer. The young man stands, silent and awkward.

  Finally, Isis looks up. “Is that all?”

  “Uh, no, sorry ma’am.” The man looks at the holographic display and feathers several different views with a flick of his trembling fingers. “Oh, yes! The high royalty of the Borukins, King Ramas, has confirmed his visit in nine months!”

  “That’s good news.” Isis pauses for a moment before she types a new note. “Okay, if that is all, I would like you to inform the office of the Secretary of Foreign Affairs that I need a copy of the preliminary itinerary for their visit for security review as soon as possible.”

  “Yes ma’am, right away,” he says with a quick salute while he scurries out of her office.

  Isis shakes her head and continues with her work. Before she can finish a sentence a small window on her monitor with red letters flashes.

  INCOMING CALL: Lt. Co. Phillips

  Isis taps the accept button on the screen and an Erohsian officer appears.

  “Colonel, there is a situation that requires your attention. We got a hit on the DNA and retinal scanners two days ago in the outer districts of Sunta that match a class-two Human named Kabel Reikyn. He has known activity with the terrorist group Catalyst,” Phillips says.

  “Then standard triple S procedure applies, Lieutenant Colonel. Take two squads, scan, search, and secure the area. Why do you need me?” Are you helpless as well?

  “Because, Ma’am, I don’t have the authority to make sure we catch him.”

  “I’m not going to release more resources for a single class-two Human.” Isis says. “If we arrest one, there’ll be ten more in his place. As far as I know he’s not a high priority.”

  “Normally, I’d fully agree, Ma’am. However, this Human has given us a significant amount of trouble. My squads tracked him to New Lur but lost him again this morning. In the process, they made several Aether scans that suggest he was in possession of multiple essences.”

  “Really? And out in the open like this?” Isis runs her thumb along the edge of her right ear, pensively. “Did they get a reading on their strength and cast?”

  “There was an unusual amount of noise in the signal so there was no way to tell cast. Our extrapolation algorithm estimated the essences to be around a one on the Boltz scale. The stranger thing is, it was sporadically estimating values of four and higher…”

  “Four! How did that slip by? Have the terrorists found a way to hide the signature?” Isis shakes her head. “Regardless, a class-four essence would cause a lot of trouble if one of the terrorist members absorbed it…”

  “I agree, Ma’am. That’s the last thing we need.”

  Were these the ones stolen from research? I don’t remember any level-four entities being held there. Isis continues to play with her ear. “They must be transporting them. This may be our last chance to retrieve them before they’re put to use. If we can locate him before night, we still may have a chance. Take four platoons of light infantry, fully geared. Split them into fire-teams of three. One Aether detector for each team. Search the area in and around New Lur. Have a levitraft ready with an equipped team of soldiers for me outside. I’ll see you within the hour at New Lur.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Isis salutes and ends the call. She finishes writing a couple of messages, then grabs a white ruler-shaped object resting in a charging slot. With a little pressure the object snaps around her wrist and a large holographic display pops up in front of her.

  Good morning Colonel Belshiv.

  Power Cell: 100% charged

  Isis swipes the hologram away. She grabs her hat and coat, turning down the light grey hallway with an evenly illuminated ceiling. After a couple of elevators, she arrives at a large main floor lobby where a series of guards and scanners monitor a stream of people coming and going. She easily picks her way through the crowd, her eyes looking over the other Erohsians. A set of automatic doors opens at the exit.

  Among the cars waiting for passengers, she is quick to spot the sleek lines of the levitraft supported by three landing feet. The dark, windowless vehicle shimmers in the light, showing off a surface that has a deceptive depth. Small, adjustable ducts for thrust and control line the bottom. Larger ducts are situated in the rear. An armed soldier stands on either side of the entry to the bright white interior.

  Isis takes a slightly cramped seat next to the driver, nodding to him. The driver waits for his companions to sit down in the rear seats before sealing the hatch. The door closes like a set of jaws, accompanied by a whirring of gears.

  The turbine engine ignites with a gentle, intensifying hum and virtual windows appear, revealing the surroundings. “Activating the Yerantol cage when you’re ready, Ma’am,” the driver says.

  Isis closes her eyes and nods. The driver touches a button and Isis squeezes her armrests as she is thrust into a sudden gut-wrenching free-fall. The sensation lasts a few seconds before it subsides into uneasy weightlessness. The three landing feet retract, and the craft rises a meter off the ground. With a kick of the thrusters, they gracefully zip through the base.

  On their way out, they pass rows of heavy infantry in their metal combat armor and an assortment of war vehicles. Off in the distance, a few light bipedal mech units are performing agility drills through a course of large cement obstacles.

  Once outside the base, they follow a wide road lined with pristine, monotonous grey commercial buildings. The road eventually leads them to an imposing wall, one hundred meters tall, that forms the edge of the city. They go through the large gate and accelerate on the open road, passing a long line of traffic waiting to enter the city.

  “Take us as high as you can without risking the Skimmers. I’d like to have a look around,” Isis says.

  The driver tips back the control stick and the levitraft shoots to the sky, revealing the landscape around for hundreds of kilometers. Off to the side, the Carn River runs from under the walls of Sunta and is swallowed by a thick forest. Glimpses of a silvery thread of the river shine through the forest as it extends all the way to the coast. A dark haze steams from the trees and blurs the blue of the ocean behind. A chill runs up Isis’s spine as she rec
alls macabre reports of people lost to the forest. If evil exists… It would be there.

  Halfway to their destination, they begin to glide down toward the ruined Human city of Lur. Eventually, they lose enough altitude to join the road once again. The road takes them through a ragged wall made of a patchwork of materials and ultimately to New Lur, a pathetic town that was reestablished to give the Humans some ownership. To think we used to respect the Humans… now they’re nothing but marginally useful cattle.

  The levitraft settles alongside several large transport trucks in the middle of town. Teams of light infantry are scattered about, banging hard on doors and interrogating the frightened Humans. The Erohsians have an air of supremacy despite their small size.

  “Disengaging the Yerantol cage,” the driver says.

  Isis grabs her armrest as she suddenly feels like she is rocketing toward the sky. Her body clenches until she adjusts to normal gravity. Lieutenant Colonel Phillips approaches her as soon as she steps from the levitraft.

  Phillips snaps her a crisp salute at the top of his helmet. “Ma’am, we have teams of three scanning and searching the town as requested. The other platoons are searching the surrounding fields and abandoned structures.”

  Isis taps her wrist computer, popping up a holographic screen. She pulls up a map of the area that shows soldiers as little red dots swarming around. “I can see that… Have you found anything yet?”

  “No ma’am, just… cattle,” he says with a bit of disgust. “And non-bonded, at that.”

  “Keep me informed and make sure that you do a thorough search of the old industrial buildings. If you haven’t found him by dusk, triple the patrolling groups east of the town to catch him on the run to the mountains. He’ll want to put as much distance as he can between himself and Sunta. He’ll probably look for sanctuary among Borukin sympathizers. We can’t let him get that far. Notify me immediately if anything comes up.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Phillips gives her another salute.