Chapter 4
Sarah Sinclair
It felt right being alone.
The further she traveled from the Academy grounds, the saner she became.
It was like she was claiming back her self-respect, her dignity, her frigging sanity.
Though she fleetingly thought about traveling into space, she simply didn't have the funds.
Her only option was to head to a cheap city, find a job, and....
Sarah huddled in the corner of the superfast train. She was seated on the last seat in the carriage, and fortunately no one had bothered sitting next to her.
A few other humans and aliens were dotted through the carriage, plugged into their personal communication devices or watching the holographic news panel in the far corner of the carriage.
A few times her gaze flicked up to it. It cycled through galactic news. None of it pretty.
Soon, a speculative news report started. It managed to get her attention... and she didn't know why.
Suddenly a race of nerves sank hard into her gut, spreading through her chest and charging up her neck.
She was glad she was sitting alone. That terrifying sensation saw her shift forward and press a hand flat over her chest, a hiss pressing through her suddenly bloodless lips.
As soon as the brunt of the feeling passed, her gaze was drawn back to the holographic news feed, her attention riveted on it, her eyes so wide they could have toppled into her lap.
She was aware of the fact she was barely breathing.
She couldn't hear the news report – just a faint echo.
Immediately she jerked one hand onto the panel beside her seat, switching on the audio and grabbing the jawbone device. It was a circular thin sheet of metal that adhered to her jaw as she slapped it on. Instantly it used sophisticated vibrations to play the audio stream right into her inner ear.
“... There's some speculation the Academy is on the verge of acquiring true-intelligence holograms,” the news continued.
It showed a sweeping view of Academy grounds.
Sarah couldn't move. Not an inch.
It felt like someone had soldered her to the spot, driving foot-long rivets through her legs and anchoring her to the floor and seat with all the force of an atomic bond.
“Inside sources claim Academy officials have already met with Corthanx Traders – the only known group to currently possess this technology outside of the Ornax.”
The Ornax...? Sarah had to search her memory, but it eventually came to her. She didn't make a habit of watching these speculative news programs – they were usually implausible stories concocted from misrepresented facts.
The Ornax, apparently, were a growing new threat in Coalition space. Some new irrepressible enemy. Ever since the rebuilder incident, the media had changed. They kept looking under every rock for new enemies, new sources of drama. As if they just didn't know how to report on peace anymore.
Though Sarah knew all this, she couldn't turn away. Nor could she unlock the tensed hand from her chest. With every second it pushed harder and harder against her plain top, crinkling it and leaving sweaty track marks over the fabric.
“Approaching next stop: Hunan Province, New China.”
Sarah jolted, the train's audio cutting through the news piece.
It took her a second to realize this was her stop.
She wanted to stay and watch the rest of the broadcast. No – needed to. It had stolen her attention away, focused her like a laser.
A second later, however, it ended, and the holographic footage smoothly moved on to another segment.
Suddenly the panel beside her beeped. “Passenger Sinclair, Sarah – this is your stop.”
She jolted to her feet, her movements so twitchy it felt like someone had passed an electric shock through her nervous system.
Though she wanted to stay on the train in the hope the news feed would repeat itself, she couldn't.
She'd only paid for a ticket this far.
She reluctantly grabbed her bags from a storage compartment at her feet, hauled them over her shoulder, pulled the jawbone attachment off her face, and walked out of the train.
It had taken her all of 30 minutes to get from the Academy, halfway across the world, to New China.
There were quicker ways to travel. She couldn't afford them. As it was, she'd have to start looking for work immediately.
... Maybe that should have daunted Sarah, but as soon as she walked out onto the platform and saw the stunning tree-covered peaks pulling up to the horizon, she instantly calmed.
Even the terror of that broadcast couldn't change one fact – she no longer felt as if someone was walking over her grave.
All it had taken was getting some distance from the Academy.
She drew in a breath, reveling in the mountain air.
She'd arrived in Old Zhangjiajie. Despite being a modern galactic city, it had retained a great deal of its old-world charm. Pristine new glass and metal structures were flanked by dense forests, dotted through with streams, and forever chirping with the sounds of insects.
As she walked along the platform, she saw the train shift off behind her. It disappeared back into the streamlined white-blue sealed-tunnel, a shield flickering into place behind it. As soon as the shield covered the tunnel mouth, she saw a mini explosion within that propelled the train forward at insane speed.
In an instant, it was out of sight.
The superfast train tunnels crisscrossed through the landscape, forming a backbone to the city.
She walked along the platform, smiling when she saw some moss growing in a damp patch at the corner of a ramp.
Nature out here was irrepressible. She even saw a butterfly waft past, flying close to her face before fluttering off into the city.
Hooking her hair behind her ears, she let a natural smile play across her face. It helped chase away the remnants of her terrifying reaction to that broadcast....
She muscled her bags further up her shoulder and walked quickly over the platform, finding the ramp that led down into the city.
Though she desperately wanted to be distracted by the view, she had to focus.
First things first, she had to find a job. Then Sarah Sinclair would start a new life.
Away from the Academy and her problems.
Fractured Mind Episode One (A Galactic Coalition Academy Series) Page 4
