by John Coon
“I know much about both you and your husband. My knowledge is not coincidental. We have watched you from a distance since your return to Lathos.”
Calandra pressed a button on her holocaster. The diviner’s image froze on the holoscreen. Her mouth hung slightly open, and her eyelids drooped in equal measure. A lump formed in Calandra’s throat as her eyes traced the still image.
Who were these people spying on her and Xttra? What purpose did their actions serve? Calandra cast her eyes around the room. Perhaps a hidden gadget in her apartment recorded her image and words at this moment. If it did, these hidden spies now realized she had uncovered their crystal.
She pressed the button again and resumed playing back Ominade’s recorded message.
“The survivors of the Earth expedition are now a growing threat to the chief sovereign. Your lives are in grave danger, Calandra. His ruthless cunning and wrath have no limits.”
Calandra stared unblinking at the holocaster. Her life in danger? From their chief sovereign? No. This was a lie. Confederation propaganda.
“What happened to Doni Zell back on Earth sealed your fate and Xttra’s fate,” Ominade continued. “Delcor practices patient vengeance. He is working to isolate and destroy you all one by one. I know this is difficult for a granddaughter of a former first minister to hear, but I speak the truth.”
Calandra fidgeted with an auburn lock that had fallen to her right cheek. Her breaths grew quicker and shallower. What did this woman know concerning Doni’s fate? Every survivor from the expedition to Earth received strict orders while inside the Stellar Guard tribunal chamber to not publicly discuss what Doni did on that alien planet. His treachery embarrassed military and government leaders alike. Their chief sovereign himself disavowed Doni’s actions and apologized for sending him to Earth.
Why would their chief sovereign change his mind a year later and put together a plot to kill them all as Ominade claimed? Such a scenario made no sense to her. And it did not track with what she observed during her interactions with Ra’ahm’s ruler.
“Delcor believes you uncovered his crimes.” Ominade spoke as though she anticipated Calandra’s doubts while recording this message. “Doni played a pivotal role in precipitating those same crimes. He’s become convinced you murdered his long-time friend and ally. Delcor will stop at nothing to exact his version of justice and prevent his crimes from being exposed.”
Calandra pinched her eyes shut and shook her head. Nothing Ominade said seemed real. Their chief sovereign admittedly was a strict and passionate ruler. But he fought alongside his father Bathal in freeing their nation from despotic brutality endured under the Confederation of Northern Tribes. She remembered what her grandfather Janthore told her as a young child about Confederation oppression. All Ra’ahm clans owed an eternal debt to the chief sovereign for winning the Separatist War.
He was a national hero.
“We can save you, Calandra. We can save both you and Xttra. You deserve to learn the same truths your Earthian friend uncovered.”
Her eyes popped open again. Calandra stared hard at the holoscreen.
Kevin.
A suspicious vibe gripped her. If Ominade forged a connection with Kevin, her acquired knowledge started to make more sense. Learning Kevin was at odds with their chief sovereign did not surprise Calandra in the smallest degree. It fit with the course her friend charted on his life path since settling on Lathos. Kevin had no faith in the benevolence of the chief sovereign and never did. His experiences with treacherous Earthian governments poisoned his mind against authority.
“Come to my shop bordering the street markets in Luma Flats,” Ominade said. “Tell no one and bring no one else with you. I have more to share—meant for your eyes and ears alone.”
The diviner extended a hand toward an unseen recording device and her image vanished from the holoscreen a second later. Calandra leaned forward and stared unblinking at the blank holoscreen.
Meet with her alone?
Not a chance.
Calandra knew better than to trust a random stranger. Especially one with intimate knowledge of her. She needed a familiar, trusted face at her side. A friend also skilled with a weapon if anything should go awry. Journeying to Earth taught her to never jump into situations unprepared. Not everyone owned good intentions toward her.
Reaching out to Alayna sprang to mind. Calandra dismissed that thought soon after it appeared. Alayna did not own a weapon as far as she knew. Only one choice made sense in this situation.
Calandra rose from the couch and walked into the bedroom again. Bella stirred in her nest for a moment when she entered the room, then settled back into a deep morning nap. Calandra snatched her arca vox off an end table by the bed and activated the communicator.
This time she hoped it would connect with Bo’un.
A holoscreen popped up. Bo’un’s image followed only a few seconds later. Seeing his scarred face lifted a huge weight off her. If the weapons officer had not answered, Calandra would have exhausted her limited options for finding meaningful help. Bo’un cracked a friendly smile once he saw her on the other end of the arca vox.
“You have impeccable timing,” he said. “I just returned to Lathos. Landed at the shipyard after dawn.”
“I need your help.”
“Of course. Name it.”
“Can you get away from the Stellar Guard for a couple of hours today?”
“That shouldn’t be a problem. What’s happening?”
Calandra’s eyes darted to the storage crystal still inserted in her holocaster and back over to her arca vox holoscreen.
“I think I uncovered evidence that can lead us to Xttra. I need to meet with someone near the street market in the Luma Flats district.”
Bo’un’s eyes lit up when she spoke these words. His smile broadened and he answered Calandra with an approving nod.
“What time do you want me to swing by and pick you up in my aerorover?”
With Bo’un on hand as a temporary bodyguard, Calandra did not want to waste another second. Tracking down Ominade and learning exactly what information she possessed concerning Xttra’s whereabouts became her top priority.
“Come to my place within the hour if you can arrange it,” she said. “The sooner we can shed some light on what is happening, the faster we can find my husband.”
16
An energetic crowd of patrons swarmed the street markets when Calandra and Bo’un arrived at their destination in the Luma Flats district. She felt unsure if this portended a good or bad omen. Large crowds made it easier for spies to move around the premises unnoticed while watching her and Bo’un. Yet, those same people would be less inclined to do anything sinister with so many eyes and ears around.
Pleasant music greeted her ears when Calandra stepped out of the parked aerorover. Two street musicians danced on a street corner directly ahead of the vehicle. Both musicians played a syri’nai—a musical instrument featuring nine hollowed out, polished senosa sticks bound together with ebutoka leather straps. Each stick forming the syri’nai increased in length from the one preceding it, supplying a variety of pitches to the performer. Younger Ra’ahm musicians preferred the ancient sound, look, and feel of authentic senosa syri’nai over modern synthetic versions. A call back to their ancestors who first crafted these instruments.
Several street market patrons gathered around the musicians to watch and listen to their performance. Bo’un and Calandra circled behind this small cluster of patrons and rounded the corner. A narrow street paved with smooth interlocking polished stones lay ahead. Covered stone booths lined each side of the street. Each booth featured three walls and a built-in counter facing the street. Merchants displayed their goods on wooden shelves lining the walls, in hanging baskets, or inside rotating circular cages suspended on long thin chains attached to the booth’s ceiling.
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��Are these street markets usually this crowded in the morning?” Bo’un asked. “This is more hectic than a typical market on Fengar.”
Calandra shrugged.
“Never been much of a street market patron,” she said. “When I have free time, I’d rather not waste it on purchasing whatever trinkets or gadgets a local merchant is peddling that particular day.”
She cast a sideways glance at a booth displaying shiny moldable spheres. Several spheres hung on a rope suspended from a canopy supplying shade to the booth. A blue sphere on the middle of the rope drew her eyes. It resembled one her mother and father gave to as a gift when she was still a child. Calandra stopped and gazed at the spheres. She smiled, recalling her excitement at receiving such a wonderful gift. Calandra devoted countless hours molding her sphere into whatever image entered her mind. Animals. Faces. Planets. All found temporary life on the sphere. It opened a door to a lifelong love of art.
“I think I found it.”
Bo’un’s voice snapped Calandra’s thoughts back to the task at hand. He stopped several steps ahead of her and stared at a cylindrical shop topped with a pyramid shaped roof. The shop occupied a spot near the corner at the end of the narrow street. A small square sign hung from a horizontal metal pole extending out above the shop door. Slender shiny chains connected sign to pole at each upper corner. Calandra studied the sign. It displayed a common diviner’s symbol, painted in silver and white lettering, and set against a black background. Such contrast in coloring made the symbol pop out. It gave an impression of being backlit by an unseen light source embedded within the sign.
“This definitely resembles a diviner’s shop from the outside,” Calandra said. “Let’s see if Ominade is inside.”
A metallic whoosh greeted her ears as the front door slid open. Chimes rang out signaling their arrival inside the shop. Two patrons on the left side of the room stood before a rotating cylindrical pole dotted with hooks. Pendants and rings made from black volcanic glass dangled from each hook. Both patrons briefly looked over at Calandra and Bo’un before turning their backs again to examining a specific pendant.
Wood squeaked. Footsteps followed. Calandra cast her eyes toward stairs ascending into the room from a spot on the opposite wall. Ominade soon appeared in the open doorway and brushed back her long white hair hanging loosely above her shoulders. A smile burst forth on her lips when she laid eyes on Calandra and Bo’un.
“Welcome travelers! Are you prepared to learn secrets the eternal world seeks to share with you?”
Bo’un turned and rolled his eyes at Calandra. Her feelings matched what she saw in him. Listening to typical diviner nonsense did not serve her true purpose for coming to this place.
“You know exactly why we’re here.”
Calandra dug the storage crystal out of her pocket. Ominade raised her eyebrows when her eyes fell upon the crystal. She signaled to an assistant standing near a medium-high shelf displaying assorted vials and beckoned him forward.
“See to our patrons’ needs. I must meet with our new visitors alone.”
Her assistant nodded and walked over to the pendants and rings. Ominade started toward the doorway she came through earlier.
“Follow me to my divining chamber.”
Calandra and Bo’un exchanged incredulous looks. He sighed and followed the diviner. She did the same. Calandra’s brief time in the shop had done nothing to erase her skepticism. Diviners were all cut from the same cloth. They peddled impossible answers, wishful dreams, and useless gadgets to desperate people without enough sense to know better.
Once Calandra stepped through the doorway, a distinct whoosh followed behind her. She snapped her head toward the sound. A metal door now blocked the path behind her. Overhead lights and smaller lights embedded on the wall above each stair automatically activated. Calandra now noticed the stairs led down into a narrow tunnel when she faced forward again.
“The magnetic locks will keep unwanted guests from bothering us,” Ominade said, glancing over her shoulder.
“Magnetic locks? Unwanted guests?”
Calandra stiffened and froze on the stairs. Did this diviner intend to make them her prisoners? Similar thoughts must have crossed Bo’un’s mind. His hand dropped down to a concealed eliminator on his belt.
“Relax, Bo’un. No need to shoot anyone. You’re in no danger down here.”
His eyes grew as wide as small plates.
“How do you know me?”
Ominade flashed a knowing smile.
“I’ve made it my business to become familiar with all survivors from the secret expedition to that alien planet called Earth.”
Calandra eyeballed her suspiciously.
“Why are you spying on us?”
Ominade turned away without answering and marched down the rest of the stairs. Bo’un gazed at the magnetically sealed door for a moment. He finally shrugged and started walking forward. Calandra stayed a step behind Bo’un. Letting him be a buffer between her and Ominade seemed like a wise idea. Calandra did not trust the diviner, and, unlike Bo’un, she neglected to bring along a weapon for self-defense.
“I told you to come here alone.” A distinct sharpness tinged Ominade’s voice. “Extra eyes and ears divulge sights and sounds not meant to be shared.”
“That saying isn’t relevant here,” Calandra said. “I’m not trusting my safety to a stranger.”
Ominade shot a scolding look over her shoulder at her. She let out a sigh.
“Child, I intend no harm on you. Quite the opposite. I want to save you from the designs of the chief sovereign.”
Doubt flashed through Bo’un’s eyes as they narrowed. He shook his head at the old woman, treating her words as outlandishly false.
“Designs? What designs?”
“All will be revealed in time. Follow me.”
The diviner turned away and walked down an arched hall. A single row of pale yellow-white lights lit each wall. Multiple ancient Aracian letters painted in black ran parallel above the lights. Colorful glyphs imbued with symbolic meaning among diviners were interspersed among the letters. Calandra paid only scant attention to the diviner artwork. Ominade’s continued insistence on being cryptic rather than giving straight answers tested her patience. Still, she needed to see this through and find out what the diviner knew or claimed to know.
Calandra and Bo’un followed Ominade down the hall at a deliberate pace. It eventually opened into a square chamber. A backlit curtain hung suspended over the back wall. Calandra peered at the edges of the purple curtain, trying to discern the source for the light peeking out from behind the edges. A small round table and chairs—all made from painted senosa wood—sat a few steps away from the curtained wall. Little rectangular metal blocks lay scattered across the table’s surface. Each block had an Aracian letter carved into its face.
“You’re not actually a diviner, are you?”
Calandra shot Bo’un a puzzled look. He motioned to the right side of the chamber. Her eyes drifted to where he pointed, and she stared in disbelief.
Crystal screens lined the wall along with input terminals. A workstation and chair sat below the screen. Two active holoscreens hovered above parts of the workstation. Calandra’s eyes darted from screen to screen. Each one showed multiple locations in Luma. On one screen, she recognized the apartment building where she and Xttra dwelt.
“You are a spy. Are you a Confederation agent?”
Ominade wheeled around as soon as Calandra unloaded her accusation. She laughed like a parent hearing a child make an outlandish statement. Calandra despised that sort of laugh.
“I’m certainly no diviner. Nor am I aligned with the Confederation.”
“Then who are you?” A cold sharpness infused Calandra’s question. She did not relish being made a fool. “Why this charade? Why go to the trouble to make me think you’re a diviner?”<
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Ominade brushed back her white hair. She directed Calandra and Bo’un to the small table.
“For your protection and mine.” Ominade pulled on a long cord woven with ebutoka hair and drew back the curtain behind the table. “An aging Animo Islands rebel masquerading as a diviner does not draw attention from eyes and ears loyal to the chief sovereign and his agents.”
“A rebel?”
“Indeed I am.”
“From the final days of the Separatist War?”
“That’s when my cause took root.”
Calandra’s heart started to race again. This was not real. What Ominade said could not be real.
Whispered rumors going back to her childhood told of an underground rebellion against their chief sovereign. A remnant band of freedom fighters who felt betrayed by one they painted as an authoritarian ruler. These rebels were fleeting shadows skulking in hidden places. Striking out like tenacious ictus bugs and retreating again.
Assassinations. Robberies. Sabotage.
Their illicit criminal activities only swayed hearts and minds of regular Ra’ahm citizens to oppose their cause.
“The Animo Islands do not exist,” Bo’un said, pulling Calandra from her thoughts. “Only the ignorant and ancient call them by that name. Everyone knows those islands are called Delcor’s Islands.”
Ominade glared at him.
“In your lifetime, yes.” Her tone grew annoyed. “Yet, your chief sovereign seized my homeland after he seized power. Delcor imposed his name on our islands to erase our identity while his troops simultaneously crushed all who opposed him.”
Tangible pain dripped from those words. Fear gnawed at Calandra deep within her bones. Surely, their chief sovereign could never be capable of such brutal actions.
She cast her eyes toward the drawn curtain. The wall directly behind the curtain retracted to reveal a half-cylinder chamber wide enough to admit a single adult human. A circular platform rested on the bottom end of the chamber. Narrow vertical lights, matching Calandra’s forearm in both width and length, lined the chamber walls from floor to ceiling.
