As Ayzize had prepared to reveal Akira's last request, he remembered Celes at the town hall, how she had stared at him with devastated eyes before he proclaimed her as his apprentice. If Ayzize told Doth about the last request, Doth would throw Celes out on an Alien world, and Ayzize wasn’t confident that she would stay in the complex. He could picture her trying to weasel her way into the gate, making a break for it before the laser turrets targeted her—
“No. Nothing else,” Ayzize had said, clearing his throat.
Doth had stared at him in doubt, but he seemed to believe him, since his shoulders relaxed. “At least there’s that. Now, as for the father...” he had rubbed his chin. “He’ll probably have to be executed. He walked around with that information floating in his head for who knows how long...”
“We have memory altering technology; let’s use it,” Ayzize had frowned. “If the father dies just after I took his daughter—”
“It would be ruled as a suicide.” Doth had waved a hand dismissively as he looked out the window of his office, the sky darkening. “Endeavor’s police record in that area is abysmal and lazy.”
While Ayzize wasn’t exactly fond of Zivan, neither did Ayzize think Zivan needed to die. He doubted even Celes would want her father dead. “He merely parroted information, and the memory wouldn’t be deep or erase anything else in his life that we would have to fabricate; it is easier to erase that specific information than plan and execute a killing. It’s a waste of resources.”
Doth had looked at Ayzize over his shoulder, lights from the compound outlining his face. “It was better when you weren’t attached to anything other than killing XIKs, Nelowie,” he had said, a small smirk on his face before he looked back to the window. “Fine. I’ll consider that option. Dismissed.”
It had taken every ounce of Ayzize’s self-control to not punch his boss in the face for the comment. In the present, Ayzize settled on glaring at Doth as he gave his conference on the newest Dormant.
“We have several thousand Dormants, though that number is suspected in the millions,” Doth continued, the air in the room thick with frustration and anger. “The Directors are planning and have unanimously made the newest recruits hybrids of both security and Varôk.”
At least two dozen yells of protest sounded from the room, and Ayzize’s heart sank. Doth had speculated to him that Raxdrýn would go that route, but that didn’t stop the knot of anxiety in Ayzize’s stomach. He had definitely chosen the wrong time to take an apprentice.
Doth silently glared at the protesters to quiet down, with a Levan named Meiri being the last to stop yelling obscenities. Doth grimaced, “We do not have the budget to have a clean break any longer—”
“Then take it out of R&D!” Meiri shrieked. “I did not recruit my apprentice for this bullshit!”
Several shouts of agreement went through the room, while the holo screens around the room lit up with scientists yelling back at the Varôk for suggesting that their budget be altered.
A high-pitched ringing tore through the air, and several species winced while others put their hands over their ears. The Omni dropped slightly and the Krshk flinched. Even Doth winced, despite being the one to sound the signal to get everyone to quiet. “I know that people will have issues with this announcement, but we will discuss this civilly,” he hissed. “We will not devolve into bickering and yelling like a primitive political debate.”
>>At least they get a say in their politics,<< the Aphin Selyn next to Ayzize projected, the non-Levan around him nodding in agreement with snorts of derision.
“The budget allotment stands, as every single department here is needed. R&D provides the weapons, armor, and security that the Varôk and Security Personnel needs, while they fight on our behalf,” Doth glowered at the audience. “Every single person here prefers Varôk and security roles separate, including I. However, going forward, this hybrid track will not be as dire as most of you are thinking.” He paused. “The new recruits will not be going out on their own fighting XIKs unless they decide to after training. We will use them when the Active Dormants become True Actives, and they will work in teams.”
A collective sigh of relief went through a good number of people, though Ayzize still kept his eyes narrowed on Doth. Active Dormants weren’t as dangerous as XIKs—that they knew of, but True Actives were. Doth had always been good at placating people when he had to, and while he never lied, he left out critical information if deemed necessary. Ayzize felt Doth might have left information out and made a mental note to visit Zivan next time Ayzize returned to Endeavor.
Doth dismissed the meeting. The Varôk muttered or chatted darkly about the newest development as they all filed out. Most didn’t know what was worse: that one the highest military leaders in the Ascendancy was a sleeper viral agent, or Raxdrýn would pit the newest kids against them after eight years of training. It continued to leave a sick feeling in Ayzize’s stomach. The possibility of Celes meeting the same bloody fate as her mother, or even of his—
No, he thought, his nails digging into his biceps. The memory of the blood blossoming on Akira’s white coat, and the torn flesh and ripped out organs of the bodies he identified seven years earlier, remained in his mind. I will not allow it to happen to Celes.
∆∆∆
Ayzize would have liked a week alone to process the information, especially before he broke the news to Celes, but he barely got an hour. The past week reminded him of why he preferred to be out in the field: he got to be alone. After being at HQ, surrounded by scores of people all the time in meeting after meeting, repairing armor, medical examinations, regular testing of his abilities, and with a child constantly questioning everything, all he wanted to do was crawl under a rock and stay there undisturbed. Poor Celes had dealt with his irritability, and despite her frequent demands for answers, he intended to apologize. Most other kids would have been scared of all the new species and information thrown at them, but she thrived with it. Now, he hoped she would take this information to heart and maybe one day forgive him for recruiting her to a profession that pitted her against XIKs rather than drunk guests at a politician’s party.
Ayzize found Celes in the Residence Hall, in the basement that had been converted into a large recreation room. Several of the younger recruits played games with each other or their mentors. He watched a Rym mentor showing her recruit how to play an AR game, guiding the Rym child through the tech, while the recruit eagerly followed her directions. Ayzize looked away, mentally swatting away the memories that pulled at him of his own mother.
In the back corner, he spotted Celes in the middle of a VR game with a small but stout Levan. A familiar Lyre Selyn child sat against the wall reading holo screens, though her orange eyes watched Celes and the Levan. Ayzize sighed in relief; her teammates weren’t beating her up. He had acted indifferently when he had tossed her to them a few days ago since he knew hovering over her would get her bullied, but he still had been worried. He approached Celes, who noticed him as the band of teal light swooped across her face and disappeared into her Tristat on her temple.
“Hey,” she smiled, both the Levan and Lyre Selyn looking up at him. “What’s up? Oh, this is Aloi and Lyati,” she said, motioning to her companions. Lyati stared at him, though Aloi’s face split into a wide grin. “Guys, this is—”
“The famous Ayzize Nelowie.” Aloi stepped towards Ayzize with her forearm held up horizontally before Celes ran up and snatched the Levan’s arm. “Hey, what—”
“No, remember, hand out,” Celes whispered. Ayzize kept still; Meiri was Aloi’s mentor. Who knew what that gossip told Aloi?
Scowling, Aloi held out her hand, and Ayzize shook it. “Nice to meet you, Aloi and Lyati,” he said gruffly, nodding to Lyati, who just stared at him. “If you don’t mind, I need to speak to Celes for a bit.”
Concern knotted Celes’ face, but Aloi nor Lyati seemed to notice anything wrong. “Sure,” Aloi said, dropping her hand and walking over to Lyati. “Hey, p
lay with me.”
“No, I don’t really want to.”
“Come on, it’ll be fun.” When Lyati didn’t move, Aloi said, “I’ll bug you until you do.”
“Ugh, fine,” Lyati muttered, the holo screens disappearing as she got to her feet. Motioning for Celes to follow him, Ayzize led them out of the basement and away from the noise.
“Is everything OK?” Celes asked as they ascended the ramps to the next floor, her voice sounding hesitant. “You don’t look well.”
He couldn’t explain the things that upset him. Knowledge of Dormants remained a secret to recruits until they completed basic training; training that they needed to guard that secret, and graduation would be a long way off for Celes. Revealing Dormants would mean explaining their origin, an even greater secret, and the only one that gave them an edge against Telos.
If Ayzize gave any sign there was something Celes couldn’t know yet, she’d try to ferret it out. She usually stopped when he became irritated, but she eventually won't care about his irritation. He’d rather tell her about the hybrid track in private and let Kyr and Meiri explain the situation to their own apprentices.
“We’ll talk about that in the conference room,” he answered, and she blessedly didn’t inquire why. He exhaled slowly. Perhaps she had learned some restraint after all.
The first floor contained smaller rooms meant for small teams of people to strategize their next moves for their assignments. Pressing a palm against the wall of an unoccupied room, the door hissed open, and he ushered Celes inside. Sleek tables that could sync with Tristats for visual presentations and drawers full of writing instruments for each species to use adorned the room.
“Huh, Aloi wasn’t able to break—I mean, get into these rooms before,” Celes said, looking around the smooth walls and metal table and chairs. “Doesn’t look all that special—whoa!” The room lit up with golden holo screens, the room syncing up with Ayzize’s implant. He had last used one of these rooms when he had hunted down the XIK several systems over from Endeavor over two weeks ago. The holo screens showcased statistics about the planet, inhabitants, and the XIK type. “Holy crap, is that...?” she had spotted the holo of the XIK, a 3-D concept of it rotating in the middle of the room above the table.
“A Levan-type XIK, yes.” He waved a hand, the holo screens disappearing.
She still stared at the spot where the L-XIK holo had disappeared. “Why’s it’s head...” she held her hands above her head in fists, moving them away from each other to simulate a cracked skull.
Ayzize sighed, though he shouldn’t have. Most recruits, even with previous exposure to XIKs, wouldn’t know why species looked a certain way with the Verakas Virus. “You already know Levan can’t use psionic abilities mostly because of the organic composition of their bones and tissue—or, because of what their bones and tissue are made of,” he restated when Celes stared at him as though he spoke gibberish. “Their brain chemistry doesn’t help either, but if the bones and tissue are peeled away, L-XIKs can do a little telekinesis.”
“And the Verakas virus does that to them?” Celes asked, her eyes darkening with pity.
“Yes.” And you have to fight them now, he thought, the knot of anxiety growing in his stomach again. Any more and it would nauseate him.
She continued to look at the space, as if she could still see the holo. “That’s horrible. And no one knows why the virus forces them to do that?” She waved a hand towards the exit, and he knew she referred to Raxdrýn and the galaxy’s ignorance on how Verakas evolved.
“Viruses often adapt to survive, and some can do bizarre and horrible things to their host. Verakas is… the most extreme version of that adaptability.”
She nodded, a worried frown on her face. “Can I ask you a few questions?”
Ayzize almost blurted out, ‘When have you not?’, but he restrained himself. “Sure.”
“Is Raxdrýn winning, or…?” she scratched her chin. Ayzize took a shallow delve into her mind and found she didn’t feel worried or concerned; merely curious.
“In terms of numbers, yes we are.” He withdrew back into himself. He wondered how much he could reveal without Celes getting suspicious. “A millennium ago, there were a lot more XIKs, and no one had the vaccines we have now. While Raxdrýn and several other merc companies did well enough to fight back, every species suffered enough to focus most their resources to treat and prevent the Verakas virus. Now that the virus and number of XIKs have declined for five centuries, all alliances believe the virus isn’t as effective as it used to be—to be fair, that is true. The amount of XIKs are low enough for only one company to deal with it, and we need to sell things like security and tech to get more money.”
“Oh, so that’s what R&D is for? Making and selling tech?”
“Yes.” Partly.
“Hm,” Celes nodded, processing the information. “And that’s where I’m going? Security?”
He hesitated, not at all liking what he had to say and worried how Celes would react. “I got the word earlier today that the newest recruits—including you and your team—will be on something called the ‘hybrid’ track, where you have to do both security and Varôk work.”
He had expected shock, fear, outrage, or even numbness, but not an impassive shrug. “Oh, OK, cool,” she said.
Perhaps she doesn’t think she will have to actually face XIKs. “No, not ‘cool’. You will have to kill XIKs, and it is dangerous. You know this.”
She glanced to the side with a look of confusion on her face. “Uh, yeah, you just said I would have to be a Varôk part time or something.”
Ayzize delved again in her mind and felt only irritation and determination. “So, you’re OK with this?” he asked, a note of disbelief in his voice.
Celes stared at him with an equal level of indignation. “I’m confused. Am I supposed to cry or something? I thought you would be happy without me asking a bazillion questions or throwing a tantrum.”
He frowned, folding his arms against his chest. XIKs had brutally murdered her mother. Shouldn’t she, a ten-year-old, feel at least a little scared? “This isn’t a VR game that you can come back from, Celes, and there is a good chance that you could die. This needs to be taken seriously.”
Celes frowned at him, and he felt a spike of anger from her. “I know, I am not stupid, and I’m not some little kid. I know exactly what they can do; they killed my mom. If I can stop XIKs from killing someone else’s family, then I’ll do anything.”
He blinked, his mind returning to when he said nearly the exact phrase seven years ago when he pleaded with Chairman Gulan at the gates. “While I’m glad you are not panicking, you will not go about it eagerly and obsessively.”
“What? Who cares how I go through with it?” she demanded. “Isn’t that what you did?”
He ground his teeth, remembering how Aloi had called him, ‘The Famous Ayzize’; if that loudmouth Meiri told Aloi, then she had probably told Celes. “What have you been told?”
“I dunno; you showed up at the gate wanting to join like seven years ago, Raxdrýn said no, and you came back with two XIKs that you killed, right?” She asked. When he said nothing, she repeated, “Right?”
He stayed silent for a few moments, wrestling with anger and indignation. That was more or less the gist of how he joined, but it sounded like she didn’t know why. Surely it wasn’t that big of a deal to tell her, and she would definitely—no, that would just encourage her. Moreover, he was twice her age when he had joined; far older and wiser to make such a decision. “Yes. And that is all we will speak about it.” He glared at her to stop, a lump rising in his throat.
She glared back at him. “What? Why?”
“Because I said so—”
“You get mad at me because I want to fight XIKs because they killed my mom, but it was OK for you to want to do it because what, you want to be famous or something?!” she exploded at him. “That isn’t fair!”
Ayzize ground his teeth. “Life isn�
�t fair—”
“No shit, I’m not stupid! But I thought you were fair, Ayzize, and stop treating me like I’m some little kid—”
“Celes, you will not swear or interrupt me again.” He let go of his arms from their fold, trying to keep his voice calm, breathing through his nose. “And you are a little kid.”
“No, I’m—”
“Drop it.”
“Why won’t you listen to—”
“Celes, I'm not telling you again,” he interrupted with a glare. “If you are this disobedient and pestering during training and field work, you will die. Is that what you want? Running around unbidden because you think you know better or you can’t control your curiosity and then get torn apart by a XIK? Because if it is, you are well on your way towards that path!”
Looking away, he took a deep breath to still his pulse, before he continued, “You will start listening to me without question from now on. Do I make myself clear?”
He looked at her and blinked in surprise. She had tears in her eyes, and her lips frowned deeply. A quick scan of her mind showed rushed memories of her father snapping at her. Wait, what? Frowning himself, he said tentatively, “Celes—”
“Whatever. Good luck on your job,” she snapped, before she jumped out of the chair and stomped for the exit, wrenching it open with a command of her Tristat, running out before the door slid shut.
Ayzize stared at the door for a few seconds. Ok, that could have gone… better. He sighed and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and burying his hands into his hair. If she hadn't been so intent on prying, perhaps he could have explained that he only said that to keep her safe? Handling a kid, a nosy one at that, was incredibly exhausting and brought up memories he did not want to face...
He lifted his head. Maybe he wasn’t cut out for this mentor thing. I didn’t think it would be this hard or intense. Was I like this with my parents? He frowned, picturing a man with a brilliant smile exchanging a warm look with a woman, whose long twists reached her shoulders, waving Ayzize off as he left them for the final time—
Origins of Hope Page 25
