“No.” She shook her head, and Zander sighed with obvious relief, and his action mirrored her own. “Alright, let’s make sure that everything is—”
A soft knock against the door startled both of them, and the steel creaked as it opened. Their father gazed in, merely looking numb rather than sad or anxious. Celes bristled at her father's apathetic reaction.
“Is he ready?” Their father jerked his head to Zander, who shrunk against his bed.
“Yeah,” she said tersely, and her father shuffled away, opening the door wide open. Great, now I can’t even say goodbye to Zander privately. Thanks, Dad. In the living room, the Rym and Kath’laka had gotten up from their seats and chatted by the front door, while her father headed for the kitchen.
After making a final round in the room, she carried two bags over to the front door while her brother carried his small toy bag, touching the locket underneath his shirt as if to make sure it was still there. The Rym and Kath’laka turned to Zander, their eyes watching him while Celes tried not to stare at them, lest she seemed rude.
Zander, on the other hand, stared openly at the Kath’laka. “Why are you covered in fur and have four arms?”
“Zander!” she hissed, but the Kath’laka just laughed, a deep vibrato in his voice. The Rym looked like she smiled too.
“It is the way I was made, dear one,” the Kath’laka said, his lips moving wider to indicate a smile without showing his fanged teeth. He spoke English with a heavy accent, but his pronunciation was clear enough to understand. He crouched down to Zander’s height, and held out one of his hands, a padded palm with curved nails. “I am Mato, and this is Hekla.” He motioned to the cerulean skinned Rym behind him, who gave Zander a short wave.
“I’m Zander!” Zander grabbed Mato’s hand and shook it. “Wow, it’s just like a dog’s!”
“I’m really sorry,” Celes muttered, her face burning in embarrassment. “He’s never met a non-human, er, I mean someone that’s not like a human…” Great, her first meeting with aliens had her sounding like an idiot.
“No need to apologize, Miss Celeste,” Mato said in a gentle voice, patting Zander on the shoulder, who exclaimed that Mato felt ‘really soft!’. She couldn’t read Mato’s dark gold eyes well, but she felt like he regarded her with some pity for a brief moment. “So, ready to go, Zander?”
“Yep!” Zander immediately picked up his bag. “I heard Ahroh-reer-dahl is a space station!”
“It is. A great big one with lots of kids and toys,” Mato smiled, straightening up. “Have you said your goodbyes?” His eyes swept the kitchen, and to Celes’ great displeasure, her father sat at the small kitchen table nursing some beer.
Gritting her teeth, she looked to Mato, and knowing that he and Hekla could hear her, mentally projected out, >>Please get my brother out of here.<<
Hekla’s eyes narrowed, looking between Celes and their father, and she looked up at Mato, clearly communicating in private with him. Mato merely gave her a glance, and Hekla bared her fanged teeth at him, turning away to open the door and walk out onto the walkway. A wave of humans arguing and heavy industrial noise washed over them, the rays of a hot golden sun flowing into the dark apartment.
Heaving a great sigh, Mato picked up Zander’s belongings as though they weighed nothing, offering one of his hands to Celes.
“Thank you,” she said aloud, putting all her relief and gratitude in the statement as she shook his hand. It felt soft, and truth be told, indeed a bit like shaking a dog’s paw. “Please, keep him safe.”
“What, you’re not coming?” Zander’s eyes darted between her and Mato in a panic, and he threw his arms around Celes. “No, you have to come with me! Mom made you promise to keep me safe! Please don’t leave me!” His voice went higher into a cry, thickening with tears.
She bit her lip, blinking rapidly before putting her hands on his shoulders and gently pulling him away from her. “Hey, it’s OK,” she said, putting on a wide and fake smile. “There’s not enough room for me on the ship right now; I’ll be coming later.”
His face already stained with tears and his chest heaved as he sniffed, but he looked up at her with slight hope. “Y-you will?” he asked, his nose runny.
“Yes,” she lied, pulling a tissue from her pocket and wiping his nose, taking his hand to let him blow into the tissue. She glanced at Mato, wondering if he disapproved of her lie, but he only looked bewildered. Strange alien customs, or maybe she misread him? “It may take a little bit, but I’ll be in Aorírdal before you know it. Now, until then, be good to Mr. Mato and Ms. Hekla, OK?” She felt the ends of her smile falter before she tugged them back up. At his shaky nod, she pulled him into a hug. He felt so tiny, so little, and it took a lot of restraint to not cry; if she did, then he would know that she had lied. “I love you very much.”
“I love you too,” he said happily if not a bit thickly, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll check up on you, OK?” He wiped his nose again, sniffing.
No idea how he is going to manage that since we can't even net-mail each other, she thought in anger. She released him, moving him closer to Mato. The Prior offered his hand to Zander, who took it with his own tissue-less one.
>>He’ll find happiness, love, and acceptance,<< the Prior privately told her telepathically, with no trace of an accent. >>He will be protected by many, most of all from the one whom he trusts the most.<<
She looked up at him, her smile about to dissolve into tears. At this point, all she could do was nod. >>Thank you.<<
“Ready, Zander?” Mato asked aloud again as he looked down with a warm smile, and Zander grinned, nodding.
“Yes, Mr. Mato!” Zander said, allowing himself to be led out the door before Mato hesitated, then turned to her.
“Goodbye, Ms. Celeste,” Mato told her, and put one hand to rest gently on the top of her head. “Safe journey through the river of stars.”
“See you soon, Celes!” Zander said eagerly as Celes stared up at Mato, who removed his hand from her head at her nod.
“See you soon,” she echoed back to Zander, waving back to her brother as they headed down the walkway, with Zander turning and waving to his sister. She left the door open, watching the walkway even when he disappeared around the distant bend with Mato; even when her father skulked back into his bedroom; even when the rays of light thinned to slivers illuminating her silent tears, and the noise of the complex grew to a deafening shriek.
One
At first, nothing happened. The space in front of him remained empty, the small padded room absorbing all sound. Keeping his palm facing upward and ignoring the thoughts of those that passed outside the room, he remembered how water felt. ‘Felt’ perhaps was the wrong word; rather, how water reacted to its environment. Cool, clammy, relief, drowning, overwhelming. Slowly, six droplets of liquid formed in midair, gathering into a small globe of water. More dew drops appeared, drifting inward towards the globe. His hand shaking, Xenith exhaled sharply, and the rotating ball of water dropped and splashed onto his open palm.
“Dang it,” he muttered as he shook off his hand. Behind him his best friend chittered, stepping next to Xenith.
“It barely lasted shorter than Qi’s in exams,” Nentok said plainly. The Jareshi stood taller than Xenith’s two-meter frame, with thin spindly limbs underneath his tight clothing. His triangular face and two round black eyes looked similar to a praying mantis’ face, and Nentok focused both eyes on Xenith. “Certainly longer than mine.”
“Point isn’t to be better than anyone,” Xenith sighed, wiping his hand against his pants. “Besides, you can analyze bio-sensory data better than all of us.”
“Oh, I know,” Nentok replied, clicking smugly as Xenith threw him a smile. “However, that was hydrokinesis, and nearly perfectly done.”
“I need it to be perfect, not nearly perfect.”
“Who cares if it is or isn’t? The Master rank will soon be ours.” Nentok silently flicked a narrow three-fingered hand throug
h the air and the dim lights brightened. “Why are you so focused on hydrokinesis anyway? I thought you wanted the Hsa-Bane rank, not Medpsy or Caretaking.”
“Yeah, about that.” Xenith leaned against the padded wall. “I talked to Neni about her position. You know what the most exciting thing that security has seen in the last century?” Nentok swiveled his head to the left, meaning no. “A handful of pirate attacks, several cult uprisings, and a riot in the cafeteria.”
Nentok snickered, letting out five quick huffs to signal the expression. “I can see it now! Fireballs everywhere! Desserts splatting against people's faces! False projections of XIKs hunting the students as they run screaming! Hmm, gives me an idea when we get bored next.”
“That is my point!” Xenith threw up his hands. “We’re bored and we waste our talents here! We just sit here in this station, not doing a single thing other than ‘study’ or ‘watching from afar’. Why do that if we’re not doing anything outside of Aorírdal? Do you know how much we could help people?”
“I’m not the Prior, so no, I don’t know.” Nentok turned his head again. “Ask Mato. And you becoming Krian or even a Prior isn’t going to fix it, either.”
Xenith crossed his arms, choosing to glare at the adjacent wall instead of his best friend. “I already asked Mato about going out into the galaxy, and he just keeps saying ‘it isn’t time yet’.”
“He is a clairvoyant.”
“And not a good one, as he says,” Xenith huffed, though he only half believed Mato. “I just want to do something, you know? Have an actual purpose rather than just... existing.”
Nentok mimicked a nod. “Hm; does human adolescence dictate impatience?”
Xenith frowned. “I’m more than several years past adolescence, remember? And you are just as impatient as I am!”
“Haha, no I’m not,” Nentok huffed again.
“You so too are. ‘Why hasn’t Askat gotten back to me about a third date even though it has only been an hour since our last one, I want to see him again, oooohhh’—”
>>The deep sea, those two are probably bickering in there, again.<< An annoyed yet familiar thought drifted beyond the door. With a prompt knock on the door, the mental voice continued, >>Xen, I know you two are in there; you’ve overused the room by five minutes. Out.<<
“Qi’s here,” Xenith said as Nentok waved a hand in front of Xenith's face since he had fallen silent. “Did you know we had this room overtime?”
“No. Think if we stayed—”
The room rattled violently, and Nentok huffed while Xenith sighed. “I take that as a ‘no’.”
Nentok flicked his hand to the smooth doors behind them, which hissed open to reveal the red-tinted Chilao named Qianii. With very large green eyes, skin reminiscent of iridescent scales and white bioluminescent patterns weaving across her face and fins, Qianii stood tall and lean.
“Here’s the room, go nuts,” Nentok told her. “You didn’t have to be mean.”
“What was mean was you knowing I needed the room to practice for my last exam, and you guys not leaving.” Qianii's ethereal voice was punctured with irritation, and she pushed past them both. She shot them a softened look when Xenith and Nentok quickly apologized and wished her luck.
The two of them stared as the door hissed closed, a small burst of sound in the room making them wince. “Why was she so testy?” Xenith asked as he felt Qianii’s frustration morph into anxiety. “She’s going to be valedictorian, anyway. If you think I’m a perfectionist…”
“Telei’s been aiming for it too, since it’s her ‘rightful place’ as an Iaiedal and all,” Nentok said, one bulged eye remaining on the door and the other swiveling to Xenith. “And you know Qi; if someone’s going to be the best, she wants it to be her.” He paused, and Xenith heard a whisper in Nentok’s mind. “I think Hekla’s recovered from their trip and just said I can come speak with her,” Nentok stated, confirming Xenith’s inkling that Nentok had received a private mental message. “Want to come? Mato’s with her.”
Despite Xenith not being much in a good mood himself, he wanted to know how Mato’s latest visit went. Nodding, he motioned for Nentok to lead the way.
Passing from the training rooms and into the atrium, they chatted along the way, walking past other students of various species and several caretakers having picnics on the grass. Some students lay on the ground with holo screens around their eyes, while others played with a Riali ball, the Iaiedal-Selyn hybrid sport that used both physical prowess and telekinesis. The cheery mood of the high apprentices celebrating the end of the school year fit the sunny disposition of the atrium gardens, though the theme had to be a joke. Modeled after plant life of the second Levan homeworld of Nevar, the lead caretaker had to be cackling that they chose plants from the only species in the galaxy unable to use psychic abilities. Well, true, I’ve never seen cacti this huge, Xenith thought, staring at a white and gold cactus that nearly reached the glass ceiling thirty meters above their heads, showcasing the Tyli nebula, but we have similar plants on Yuri.
Multiple wings and elevators connected to the atrium and allowed access to the lower decks for the docking bays and power resources, and upper decks led to the cafeteria and administration floors. Following Nentok’s lead, Xenith followed him to an elevator to take them to the upper decks.
With holographic projections on the walls of a calm and serene sky, the office wing looked very plain compared to other Priors’ chosen decor. Prior Vei, the previous Prior, had too much pride in his Iaiedal heritage and decorated everything he could manage: woven tapestries, patterns etched in the carpet, and holo projections showing Ia scenery. While praised for its elegance, the Rym expressed indignation and fury. Outside of neutral Aorírdal, the Rym and Iaiedal had been on the brink of war with each other for millennia. As Xenith explained to Nentok as they walked down the halls, the cafeteria fight—while sounding hilarious—had resulted in tensions between the two species and resulted in one casualty. With Mato’s ascendancy to Prior and his request to have simple decoration with the atrium reflecting a different culture on rotation, it only made critics bored rather than infuriated. No one would start a riot over that.
As Xenith and Nentok drew closer to Hekla’s office, sounds of Hekla’s melodic voice hummed over the stillness of the hall. “She’s angry,” Nentok whispered to Xenith.
“I can tell by the tone of her voice,” he replied, nodding in agreement. He didn’t need to be an Empath to recognize her annoyance. Curiosity got the better of him and he strained his ears to listen.
“Her sister showed great promise; why did we not recruit her as well?”
“Vafri alone met the requirements.” Mato’s voice sounded soft. “She will find a companion with Zander—”
“Who would’ve had a companion already if we took his sister!” Hekla’s voice almost reached a shout. “Did you not read the parents’ minds and learn how the children felt about them? Saldis is one thing since her sister is an adult, but Dušánek? His father’s mind is unfit and broken, and we just left that girl there with him. Is it any wonder why Dušánek and Saldis have yet to make friends despite Dušánek being here for almost six months?”
Exchanging a glance, both Xenith and Nentok stopped by the door, unsure if they should enter. The conversation abruptly stopped, and the metal doors hissed open, revealing a room with several unrolled scrolls of myriad calligraphy hanging from the ceiling, and plush couches arranged in a circle around a crimson rug adorned with Rym symbols. Hekla paced upon the carpet as Mato lounged on one couch, both of them looking to the two men at the door.
“We’re not interrupting, are we, Krian?” Nentok asked, one eye pointed towards Mato with the other on Hekla.
“No,” Hekla said stiffly, shooting a glare at Mato. “I needed to speak with you regarding your test results, anyway.” She motioned for him to enter and Nentok obeyed.
“Xenith, why don’t you escort me to my office?” Mato stood up, and his legs creaked loudly. “
Apologies, didn’t think my legs would protest this much. Hekla,” he looked at her, and she met his gaze with a defiant stare, “I would like to hear your concerns after you have finished with Nentok. I value your input.”
Hekla only frowned at him, her white eyes glancing away from his gold ones. “You will be sure to hear them.”
“I know,” Mato smiled, and gestured for Xenith to walk out of the office with him, the door closing behind them.
Broad Kath’laka and lanky human walked down the corridor side by side, albeit Mato had a little trouble. “I’m sorry you had to hear that,” Mato told Xenith, with a touch of regret in his voice.
“It’s fine,” Xenith said, not entirely sure if he told the truth or not. He certainly felt awkward. “So, I guess the trip to Ascendant was bad?”
“Not entirely, no.” Mato, being a third meter taller than Xenith, had to look down at him. “The Ascendancy stepped up security protocols since the latest Galactic Accord skirmish, so we had to stay at a local guild by the sea until The Ascendancy cleared our identities. I think the sea air did Hekla some good, and it reminded me of my homeworld.” Mato made a sound similar to a purr. “The business of accepting children into Aorírdal can be a blessing to some, and a curse to others, and Hekla’s first forays into recruitment are proving to be difficult for her. I cannot blame her.” Through his EmTel, Xenith felt a heavy weight in Mato’s psyche for a moment before it dissipated.
Xenith hesitated. He himself had the same outlook on his own recruitment; he had doting parents and a good home on the second human homeworld of Yuri, but bullies harassed him in school. His memories of being taken away were… confusing and painful. “Was this last one... a blessing and a curse?”
“Every one of them is complicated,” Mato sounded grim. “Even with the foresight that I have into the potential futures of these children, with almost every outlook being positive of them coming here, it rarely is... black and white, as humans say. And yes; the two last ones were more complicated than usual, but Hekla needs to face the reality of what needs to be done if she wants to move into the Council of Leliches.”
Origins of Hope Page 2
