Origins of Hope

by Anastasia Drapievsky

  “I’m all packed up!” Celes had called from her room, slinging both the straps of her duffle bag onto her shoulders and waddling up to Ayzize, who promptly took one of them off her hands. “So, we going for the train station?”

  “In a moment,” Ayzize had said, looking to the door. “You should say goodbye first.”

  Celes had opened her mouth in protest, but then shut it when he had narrowed his eyes at her. “Ok...” she had said.

  Zivan had looked to Ayzize, and he didn’t even have to ask for Ayzize to respond gruffly, “I’ll be outside,” before turning and heading out the door.

  Once on the balcony, the polluted sky and air had made Ayzize cough, but he would have rather been out here for the moment than back inside. He had gripped the railing, careful to keep the barriers up while he had pondered what Zivan had said. The fact that Zivan and Akira had walked around with this information...

  He would have to report this to Raxdrýn, and who knew what they would do with Zivan. Memory erasure most likely, but the possibility of assassination was there. Then again, Zivan had been walking around with this knowledge the entire time and nothing had happened. Because the alcohol clouded his mind, Ayzize had realized.

  Ayzize had exhaled sharply. Only more questions popped up, and the only person who could answer them was dead. He had thought he made the right decision before all of this, but Akira potentially foreseeing this made an already complicated situation worse. Her last words to him connected to Zivan’s recollections, but why? Was she indeed a clairvoyant, and would it have killed her to be straightforward? Er, bad choice of words.

  The door had opened, and Ayzize turned to Celes shutting the door, her face downcast and looking sad. When she noticed that Ayzize watched her, she had brightened, saying, “Let’s get this show on the road!” and skipped to the stairs.

  She had maintained her demeanor all the way to the Valen station, and from the thoughts that jumped out from her mind, she felt sadder than she had expected. Despite this, her giddiness and excitement of a new life superseded it quickly. It made Ayzize remember his days before Raxdrýn, which he pushed away the memories impatiently.

  “Oh, ok, I did bring it,” she said in the present, pulling out a particular shirt that looked too big for her. “When’s our train again?” she asked, looking at her datapad that held her ticket.

  Ayzize tapped his wrist, a holo appearing above it with ticket information. Celes tried not to stare at the tech embedded in his wrist. “Another ten minutes, but we should probably head for the platform.”

  “OK.” She hopped off the bench and pulled a duffle bag on one shoulder while he grabbed the other. Grinning up at him, she said, “Thank you.”

  “It’s not heavy.”

  “Oh, not that. I mean, thank you for that too, but thank you for getting me off this planet,” she said. “I thought I would be trapped here for a long time. You’re getting me out of here.” She looked down at her scuffed and peeling shoes. “I won’t forget it.”

  She wouldn’t thank him if she knew the extent of what Doth might throw her into, but Ayzize would try to keep her in security. That was the original agreement, and even if things had worsened, having one less kid in the XIK combat training wouldn’t be detrimental. He hoped. “Don’t thank me yet; we’re not off the planet,” he said, swaying the duffle bag behind him with his fist at his shoulder. “And remember: we’ll be at the orbital station for at least twenty-four hours, so be happy for solid ground for the next two hours.”

  “Screw that. Race you to space!” She took off for the train platform lifts. Ayzize couldn’t help but smile as he followed her, with the apprehension at the back of his mind of Akira’s prediction of taking her daughter, and knowing about Nea’arch and Telos.

  ∆∆∆

  The next twenty-eight hours flew by. They took the train to Meib, and from there transferred to the shuttle terminal. Ayzize worried about issues with Celes’ temporary passport, but they were cleared through the terminal and onto the landing pad with the shuttle. It was not the prettiest shuttle, with metal-coated exteriors and a bottom engine. A quick and discrete scan of the engine showed signs of excellent maintenance, so he let Celes jump in and buckle herself up.

  It only seated twenty people, but Ayzize got the window seat which he traded with Celes, who plastered herself to the window.

  “We’re not taking off for another fifteen minutes,” he muttered as she glued her eyes to the window, her face pressed against it so closely that her breath fogged the glass.

  “I don’t care. I’m not missing anything!” She didn’t even glance to Ayzize’s reflection when she addressed him. He smirked and sat back in his seat.

  During lift off she continued to press herself up against the window, since the shuttle merely hovered off the ground to the runway, but when the shuttle accelerated and then rose to a rapid incline, she suddenly withdrew from the window as the shuttle shook. Her eyes widened with terror, but she listened when Ayzize explained the shaking was normal and to take deep breaths.

  She plastered her face back to the window once they were high above the clouds; the shuttle flew quickly through the stratosphere and mesosphere as she rambled, “Look how high we are! Are we above the ozone? The clouds look so far away! The sky is so blue! Oh, man, I hope we don’t drop, I don’t want to die until I see space!”

  Once they hit the ionosphere, the blue sky darkening to a deep purple then fading into black, Celes quieted. Rising high enough to see the sapphire ring curving around the planet, brown continents merging with the deep blue water, she muttered in awe, tracing the curve with her finger. She fell silent once the shuttle had reached outside the immediate orbit of Endeavor, the abyss glittering with countless stars and the Scutum Centraus armband stretching across space behind the planet. Ayzize watched her move a hand to her face and wipe under her eyes, and he innocently looked towards the cockpit when she looked back at him to see if he saw her crying.

  They weren’t able to view the orbital station, but once they docked they could see metal beams stretching overhead from the window. They deboarded and promptly headed to the medical wing, with Ayzize dragging Celes away from every small circular window they came across.

  At the medical wing, the staff gave Celes nearly every vaccine she lacked. While she had all the human varieties, she needed specific ones before coming into contact with other species, and Raxdrýn had a member of each species in their company. She would receive Galactic Accord specific combination vaccines here, before she would be quarantined on Tezěkír and administered the rest. The poor girl’s arms looked like a quilt of micro-patches, but she chatted merrily with the nurse who administered the vaccines. They waited for the next sixteen hours in a room with a window for the vaccines to settle in her system, and while she and Ayzize talked or napped, she kept her eyes on the window.

  Once cleared, they boarded a jumper shuttle to head several systems over. With no windows, Celes tried not to scowl, and she settled for Ayzize showing her vids of what the system would look like upon entering once they got close to the comm buoys.

  At the next orbital station, Ayzize felt he had to put magnetic locks linking Celes to him, since she darted off everywhere. Bigger than the one at Endeavor, this orbital station served as a hub for a Mimõkian colony and Liet gate passengers. Multiple Galactic Accord species bustled around the station, rushing for terminals and shops, or getting in line for food stands. Ayzize’s translator couldn’t keep up with all the languages bouncing around the station. Celes’ head swiveled around with a perpetual gape on her face, staring at holo screens flashing loud advertisements, scores of small bots and full-sized robots serving many species, and the giant crowd packed full of aliens.

  “I didn’t know they were so tall!” she gasped when two Iaiedal walked past, craning her neck at their two-and-a-quarter meter stature. “Ooooh, is that a Jareshi? Whoa, they look so cool! Oh wow, an Aphin Selyn! They look so spiky! Holy crap, Krshk!” She immediately
dove through the crowd and flattened herself against the Krshk tanks that lined the walls. Three passing Krshk swooshed backward and changed from their normal orange to a startled blue when a human child slammed against their tanks. “Hi!”

  Ayzize, who had been grunting apologies left and right, quickly flew to the tank, told the Krshk, “I’m sorry, she’s new; never been to space,” seized her arm and dragged her away. Celes waved goodbye while the Krshk hesitantly waved their tentacles back. Several people who had watched chuckled good-naturedly—in their species equivalent—waving her off.

  “All right, we have to establish some ground rules,” Ayzize said breathlessly as he held onto Celes’ arm as they headed for their terminal, unbelieving at the workout he got chasing after an excitable child.

  “Huh?” She tore her eyes from an Iaiedal-Lyre Selyn family, with one adolescent Iaiedal and two small Lyre Selyn running around while their parents tried to wrangle them together. “OK, what?”

  “Never leave my side,” he snapped, and she looked down in shame. “You are from a small place and here you can very easily get lost. Moreover, if we were training, and you darted off without my permission, you could potentially die. Do I make myself clear?” The second he said it he reminded himself of Doth, and he hated it.

  She nodded, and her original pulling grip slackened in his hand. “Yes, sir,” she added, her head still down.

  He groaned inwardly. He supposed it was his fault since he didn’t think to have any rules set up, but he had never seen her this excited before. “I don’t want you to get lost, and even though you took care of yourself back on Endeavor, this isn’t Endeavor anymore and you are untrained in… a lot of things. How about we make this your first exercise?” When she looked up at him with hopeful eyes, he felt a little better. “I will let you go and you can wander around within my eyesight and must be able to hear me when I call for you vocally. Do not make me shout. Also, it is rude to run up to the other species like they’re part of a zoo. They all have their own behaviors and cultures like humans do.”

  Celes quickly nodded, and he tentatively dropped her arm, but she unexpectedly did not dart for the nearest alien to gawk at them. “I didn’t know I was being rude…” she mumbled, looking back to the Krshk tanks, where the group of Krshks she had run into still trailed behind the two humans. “How can I tell them that I’m sorry?”

  Ayzize wouldn’t have bothered, but she looked so embarrassed that he shrugged. “They might understand you if they have a universal translator. Otherwise, you could do this.” He made a specific motion with his arms, rolling his shoulders back twice. “That means ‘apologies’ in Krshk, that the bipedal—er, two-legged walking—species can do.”

  “Oh, OK. I’m going to apologize to them,” she said, this time waiting for a group of Jareshi tourists and a Mimõkian guide to rush past for their terminal.

  The Krshk paused in their tank when they saw Celes approaching, the smallest one turning blue again, but at least they didn’t turn black in anger. Holding up her arms and rolling back her shoulders twice, she said aloud, “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to be rude. You’re the first Krshk I met, and I got really excited. I’m sorry.”

  The Krshk collectively turned into a shade of light tangerine after a few seconds, swimming closer, the youngest one morphing into yellow and pressing a tentacle up against the glass. Ayzize heard, >>Of course not. You startled us, but Grxk hasn’t met a human either. Thank you for your apology.<<

  “Whoa!” Celes said, putting her fingers against her temple. “I’ve never heard your language before! It sounds awesome!... but I don’t know what you said…”

  Ayzize quickly told her, since his translator worked both with audio and telepathy, and she beamed. “Should I…” she looked to Grxk’s tentacle, the two older Krshk, and Ayzize.

  “It’s like a handshake,” Ayzize said, and with Celes looking excited, she pressed a hand against the glass.

  “Nice to meet you, Grxk! My name is Celes!”

  The other two Krshk put two tentacles on Grxk, and when she looked to Ayzize in confusion, he said, “Krshk communicate mainly through color changes, body language, and touch. They use telepathy to talk to other species. They’re telling Grxk what you said; I think he is too young for a translator.”

  Grxk stayed still while the two other Krshk massaged his head, before he waved his five other tentacles in the water, turning a brighter yellow. When his parents relayed the message over, even Ayzize couldn’t help but smile. “He says that he is happy to meet you and hopes that other humans are just as happy to see him as you were.”

  “You’re too cool for humans not to be!” she grinned back, and after a moment’s pause Grxk looked like he bounced in the water.

  After a few more minutes of talking back and forth, both Grxk’s parents and Ayzize had to politely drag their kids away from each other, Grxk darting around in his tank in a happy goodbye while Celes waved to him.

  “Does Raxdrýn have Krshk?” she asked Ayzize as they headed for their terminal, moving past a growing crowd. This time, she tried to subtly look instead of outright staring at passing Omni in environmental suits.

  “Quite a few, yes. Most are in our science department, but we have a few in business, and some are Varôks.”

  “Can I meet them?”

  “Your training will involve some time in all of those departments, so more than likely yes. Most Krshk are serious and all business though, and not as young as Grxk.”

  “He barely seemed younger than me…” she said, looking back to the tank.

  “Krshk only live up to five decades; more than likely he was less than three years old. It’s unusual for Krshk to stay with their parents past four years of age.”

  “What??” She stared back at the tanks that grew smaller in the distance. “But he was…” she stretched her arms wide, her meter arm span close to Grxk’s size.

  “They get pretty large,” Ayzize told her.

  “Oh. Huh,” she said, still looking back to the tanks as they headed for their terminal.

  This time, instead of a jumper ship, they headed for a much bigger and reinforced ship. While this terminal had few windows, each displayed the same thing: the size of their gate ship. Gate ships were a fifth the size of hub stations due to their massive engines. Several thousand passengers could easily fit on these ships, and each had to accommodate all species. When they boarded, the passengers filed into multiple compartments, sitting in seats bolted into the walls with belts looping around them with metal bars, and metal blocks around their heads.

  “What are those for?” Celes asked after Ayzize buckled her in, taking as much time as he needed to make sure she was strapped in tight.

  “Life Support and force-fields,” he said, getting into his own seat next to her and buckling himself in.

  “Uh, why?” she asked, staring up at them with growing suspicion. Several Mimõkians across from them stared openly at them; they were probably new to Gate Ships as well or hadn’t seen humans before. Or both.

  “Sometimes the ship’s engine will have to kick into overdrive in the wormhole, and the life support comes on under emergency power. Only happens half the time.” It also functioned to keep their compartment full of oxygen for a certain amount of time if their compartment was wrenched from the rest of the ship, but he had the sense not to say that part.

  The Mimõkian squawked in horror, while Celes made a similar sounding noise. “ ‘Half the time’?” she repeated, looking down at her seatbelts as if she wanted to tear them off and make a run for the nearest exit.

  Since Ayzize had been traveling the galaxy nearly all his life, he hadn’t thought that it might freak a kid out. “It sounds scary, but it is standard procedure. How’s this: if something seemingly bad happens and I don’t freak out, then it’s OK and nothing to be worried about.”

  “You fight XIKs; nothing scares you,” she muttered, and he chuckled, finishing on buckling himself in. “Why’re there no windows? I
wanted to see what a gate looked like up close.” She looked around in disapproval.

  “Having windows would be bad for the integrity of the ship. This ship has a lot of shields that have to be activated, and the hull has to be very sturdy besides all of that.” He decided not to add that if the hull was not sturdy and reinforced enough, the wormhole would crush them.

  “Why does it need a lot of shields?” she asked, and the Mimõkians across from them looked from her to Ayzize, still following their conversation.

  If Ayzize had known he would have been hosting a lecture on ships, he would have charged for it. “Just a super quick overview; the Liet gates are on opposite ends of the wormhole, right?” he said, and she nodded, the Mimõkians squawking a ‘yes’. “The wormhole, while partially stabilized by the gates, needs some help in the ‘middle’, so to speak.” Tapping his wrist, a holo cylinder popped up horizontally, with an inward dip in the middle. “All gate ships have an engine that uses antimatter to push the wormhole ‘walls’ away from it in the middle,” he said, making a tiny ship appear in the funnel with the walls retracting away from it as it flew from one end of the cylinder to the next.

  Celes frowned as the holo disappeared. “What happens if the wall isn’t pushed back?”

  This kid is way too damn curious. “Depends. Can have a few system malfunctions, or… well, the last time anything bad happened was several centuries ago before humans even reached space.”

  At Celes’ frown of ‘I’m not stupid’ and the Mimõkians staring at each other, he added in exasperation, “It is in everyone’s best interest that it does not happen. Galactic Trade depends on these gates, and if public fear after an incident made the galaxy scared of using the gates, then the economy would be wrecked. Not just the Galactic Accord’s, not just the Ascendancy’s, not just the Independent Nations’, but everyone’s. The engineering has been solid for millennia, and every crew member knows what they are doing and takes their job seriously.” He wanted to add ‘any questions?’ in sarcasm, but Celes would take him literally.