parents made a stunning breakthrough. Our engineer, Hephaestus, led a team that took up their small steps and made the extraordinary device you see before you."
Callis lightly drew her finger across the screen as she thought. "A coil assembly …"
"Yes," Hephaestus said. "It is, we believe, the first faster-than-light propulsion system ever built."
The room went quiet and the tech chiefs stared at the Psilons. Fen spoke first, "Are you certain?"
Hephaestus placed two large stacks of paper on the table. "We have documented many energy tests with the unit and observed distortions and anamolies only explicable by the … bending of space-time."
"It requires great precision and special materials," Zeus said, "but we firmly believe this can be built on a more massive scale."
"Large enough for a spacecraft?" Fihr asked.
"Yes," Zeus answered. "Early tests on larger coils have been promising."
The people looked at the image and scrolled through some of the data. Fihr spoke again, "The energy requirements seem quite large."
"They are. For now," Hephaestus answered. "Hopefully, with the aid of your nations, we can conduct further testing."
"Toward what end?" Fen asked.
Zeus glanced toward Hephaestus and said, "Exploration. Travel. Anything. We could more efficiently mine asteroids in our system. We could find other resource-rich worlds nearby."
"Do you have some sort of plan?" Callis asked.
"We do," Atlas said. He pressed a button and everyone's screens changed again. Larsa itself was shown with orbiting stations and satellites. "If we can expand the two stations in orbit now, we can make them the launch point for a series of deep space probes. Not only would these probes be exploring stars in our celestial neighborhood, but they would also be conducting unmanned tests of the FTL drive."
Fen and Fihr nodded as they looked at their panels. Callis stared at Zeus and then smiled wrily. Hephaestus saw her and looked from her to Zeus and then back again. "What do you want?" she asked.
Zeus smiled and said, "What do you mean?"
Callis shook her head and said, "The Olympus Institute has done a lot of good, of course, but I've worked with you before. What are you working toward?" Now Atlas and Fihr were noticing the connection between the pair.
Zeus tilted his head to the side and said, "I think it's a minor request. Not one that has to be met immediately."
"Go on," Fen said.
Zeus leaned forward and interlocked his fingers on the tabletop. "We would like to aid in the design and data collection process for the probes. We would like access to the orbital stations." He paused and licked his teeth. "We'd also like a couple of spaceships." Callis laughed and Zeus finished, saying, "In case we'd like to do some exploring on our own."
Fen nodded and thought. After he flipped through a few screens on his panel, he said, "Mr. Zeus, if this device works out, you'll get whatever you want."
LXXI
THE MESSENGERS
11 Years Before the End
"Where am I?"
"Grandma?" Thon said. "Grandma, you're awake!" The teen stood and hovered over the old woman. He put his hand on her shoulder and asked, "How are you feeling?"
She squinted and looked around the room. "Am I home?"
Thon nodded. "Yes. We're on the farm in Gargamus."
She smiled. "I haven't been here in so long. My mother talked about it all the time." She put her cold hand on Thon's as his parents entered the room.
"Ma?" the man asked. He took a quick couple of steps and knelt by the bed. "We weren't sure you would wake up."
She nodded and smiled. Thon knew that meant she didn't really hear him. "So happy to be home."
"She's been home for a month now," Thon's mother said from the door. His father shot her a look and then he stood up. "She can't hear me."
"Doesn't matter."
Thon leaned over a bit and asked, "Is there something I can get you?"
She squeezed his hand and said, "No. I'm fine. My children are here. That's what I need."
Thon stood once her eyes slowly closed. He looked toward his parents and saw that they were nervous again. His mother was biting her nails. His father was looking at his wristband. "Are they still outside?"
His mother said, "Yes. They say they can't wait much more."
"I have to leave for the factory in an hour," his father said.
Thon felt the anger boil inside him again. "It's your mother."
His father shrugged and said, "She'd understand. She worked at Siler River for almost seventy years in one job or another. They don't let you take off because someone's sick." Thon's mother turned and wandered out of the room.
The boy put his bronze hand on his grandmother's shoulder and leaned down to speak. As he got closer, he saw how still she was. "Grandma?" He gently jostled her arm. Then he put his hand on her cheek. Her skin was normally cold. This was different. "Grandma?"
Thon's father shook his head and sighed. "She's gone." He put his hand on her arm and patted it a couple of times before he left the room.
Thon remained. He laid his head on her shoulder and looked up to her chin. The position felt familiar since she had raised him, essentially. He was closer to her than anyone else in the family. He spent time with her in the city by the factories and she helped him find easier work in the plants when he came of age. She was all I had.
He lifted his head and felt the wetness of his cheek pull the sleeve of her gown with him. Thon moved it away and then wiped his eyes. He looked out the window toward the mountains and took in a deep breath. It's not fair.
He stood and left the bedroom. In the sitting area, his mother was going through a small box amid mountains of packed belongings. His father was on his commset. "She just died. What do you need me to do? Well, I have to go to work in an hour. I don't think they'll wait. Really? I appreciate that."
Am I the only one who feels? The only one who cares? He stormed out of the house and let the spring pull the thin wooden door back hard. Before the loud clatter had decayed, he caught sight of the workers and their equipment hovering like vultures in the yard and driveway.
Thon looked across the street and saw the metal scaffolding in place where a farm was just months before. He turned left and looked over the stream toward the mountain side. The sun glinted brightly off the panels already in place there. When he heard one of the workers laugh, he stomped off the porch and across the dirt.
The foreman saw him coming. He took a few steps toward him and got ready to speak when the teen's fist connected with the man's jaw. The bigger man fell and two workers rushed to scoop him up and restrain Thon.
"There you go."
"Get him back."
The Messenger whispered into Thon's ear, "Relax."
The foreman dusted off his pants while keeping eye contact with the boy. He straightened up and adjusted his helmet. "Mr. Ahljaela," he paused and stretched his mouth, "did she pass?"
Thon struggled again and, again, the invisible being spoke into the teen's ear, "Relax."
The boy nodded and slumped in the men's grasp. The foreman said, "Let him go." After exchanging a look, the workers released him and stepped back. Thon stood where he was and stared at the gravel. The foreman took a step closer and said, "I'm sorry for your loss."
Thon didn't answer. He looked toward the machines and the waiting workers before he said with a cracking voice, "Do you have to be sitting here? Waiting for her to die?"
The foreman nodded and said softly, "I understand, really, I do. But it's the Caesar's orders. They need this land for power stations and distribution."
Thon became choked up again and shook his head. "Giving the fat patties what they want … doesn't matter what happens to the plebs."
The foreman nodded. "I hear you. But we've got families to feed. You'll understand one day."
"Walk away," the Messenger
said. Thon turned and moved toward the house. A few moments later, he was inside and holding his jacket. His eyes found a picture of him when he was younger, sitting on his grandmother's lap. "Time to go," the tender said.
Thon looked at his parents. His mother was still rooting through boxes. His father was looking at his wristband and shaking his head. "They need to hurry up and get the body," he said.
The teen scoffed with digust and walked out the door. He ignored the workers and went to the road. He stopped and looked in both directions. The Messenger whispered, "Go left," and Thon did.
The female tender kept a watchful eye over the young girl. Corol Gaber played with her blocks. She smiled and seemed oblivious to all that happened around her. Outside, in the street, two vagrants were arguing. On the floor above them in the ramshackle apartment building, a married couple just home from work fought over the household's finances. In Corol's mother's room, behind a closed door, a man paid the young woman for sexual favors.
Desperation is a powerful motivator, the Messenger thought. She observed the woman as she prayed and worshipped God. She watched as she struggled to find work. She felt the pit in her stomach when the mother finally decided that prostitution was better than starvation.
The being cast herself behind the locked door and into the bedroom. Corol's mother was on her knees and propping herself up on her elbows. A man thrust himself into her repeatedly while he grunted and sweat. The Messenger looked at this man closely. He was an elite of Tyria; one of the most wealthy men in this city. He was approaching sixty years old, which explained the
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