The voice sounded oddly familiar, but Zander was sure he had never heard of it in his life. Was Aorírdal haunted? “... Hello?” he called back in the voice's direction.
No answer. Zander and Vafri stayed quiet, looking around the observatory and finding no one.
“… Maybe another Melyn is playing in the ducts again?” Vafri whispered.
“Wouldn’t your translator pick it up if a kid was talking?” Zander whispered back. He lifted his eyes to the ceiling, trying to find any nearby aura. “The kid was speaking English, but they… had an accent.”
“So?”
“It was like a kid was learning English. Maybe…”
“Or maybe it was the air,” Vafri stated, her voice raised several notes. “Air in the ducts, and we misheard. I was scared even before I heard it, and maybe we just thought…”
Zander didn’t think so, but the noise prickled goosebumps on his arms. “Hope it isn’t Efrik trying to trick us. Let’s go somewhere else.”
“Yeah.” Vafri turned on her heel as she grabbed Zander’s forearm, dragging him to the lifts.
Zander gladly let her, taking one last look back and seeing only the observatory and space. Shaking himself with a shaky chuckle, he saw a figure at the corner of his eyes. His eyes darted in its direction, and he found nothing. I need to stop scaring myself, he mentally chided as he boarded the lift with Vafri, and as the doors slid shut, hoped that his mind only played tricks on him.
Nineteen
Celes shifted in her seat, resisting the urge to put her datapad on the desk to play video games. The two other kids, a Rovanian and a Guanghial, looked equally bored as their teacher droned on. At least, she thought they did; the Rovanian’s eyes glazed over and the Guanghial slouched over in her chair, her thin lips stretching into a grimace. They were the only recruits that needed remedial education. After doing physical training and delving into regular classes, the other kids got to have the rest of the evening off while she and these two other recruits had two more hours of class.
Mischa had been an orphan on another Rovanian colony, and Ovuni grew up on a poor and mismanaged colony like Celes. They didn’t get to learn much about each other when their teacher, a menacing looking Jareshi named Yakto, took up all their time drilling into their heads everything from galactic history to pre-calculus. Since Celes had been to physical training, psionic training, and XIKs 101 (as she and her teammates called it) for a good eight hours already today, going into the Galactic Alliance history gave her a headache.
“Ovuni,” Yakto said, moving his holo screens away as he finished up the lecture. “Tell me the Three Founding Species. Without the Tristat,” he added when Ovuni reached up to tap the device by her ears.
“The Omni, the...” Ovuni paused. “Uhm, the...”
Celes wanted to interrupt with the answer, but people had bullied her on Endeavor for being a know-it-all, so she kept her mouth shut.
Yakto clicked his mandibles. “You have five seconds before I make you run five laps around the complex.”
“Vhent and the Teal?” Ovuni blurted. Guanghial sounded calm no matter the situation, though Lyati said there were subtle variations in their tone that someone could catch. Celes thought she heard a note of desperation in Ovuni’s voice, but she couldn’t be sure.
“It’s Tial, not Teal, but more or less correct. Only one additional lap tomorrow morning.” Yakto thought that punishment gained better answers, though Celes didn’t know if it worked or not. “Mischa, when and why did the Tial and Vhent leave?”
Celes tried not to shift in her seat again. She knew this one too, though with her luck, Yakto would question her on something she didn’t know.
Mischa pushed away a cord of hair from his face, red eyes focusing on Yakto. “I don’t know. Give me the five laps instead.”
“You are not here to just whack XIKs on the head,” Yakto scowled. “You need to think critically during fights while surviving different cultures. You will be strong and smart, not strong and stupid. Now answer the question and make an effort with that intelligence you like to downplay.”
Mischa turned a glare into what looked like one of shame. “I don’t know; something like the Tial went exploring while the Vhent wanted to do something better like… eighty thousand years ago?”
Yakto clicked his mandibles again. “If you had been listening, it would have been more specific, but that is the gist of it. The Tial went to our sister galaxy, and the Vhent departed the Galactic Accord to focus on more advanced technology and astrophysics. Three laps.” He then shifted his multifaceted eyes to Celes, who stowed the datapad into her pocket. “Name the current alliances and their species.”
Why did hers have to be the longest one? “Galactic Accord: The Omni, Mimõk, Iaiedal, Jareshi, Selyn, Krshk, and Humans. The Ascendancy: Rym, Prism, and Kath’laka. The Independent and Unaffiliated Nations: Vhent, Tial, Guanghial, Rovania, Osaŵ, Chilao, and Levan.”
Yakto buzzed in approval while Mischa breathed, “Show off,” and Ovuni turned her head to listen. “Hm. I doubted you were paying attention, but since you are correct and put them in chronological order, perhaps I was mistaken. Well done.
“Now, moving on, we can investigate how the political climate of the past has shaped the Karaxes/Verakas Virus and Raxdrýn’s history. The Xyren were around and humans weren’t, and tensions only made it worse...”
Celes tried hard not to doze off, but Yakto did not create interesting lessons for kids. She enjoyed being treated like an adult, but if adults droned on like this during class, it was a miracle anyone passed. She had wondered why Ayzize wouldn’t teach her until she graduated basic, other than he had to still go out and fight XIKs. He had been gone a week with no contact, and the prospect of him not coming back worried her. She didn’t need Raxdrýn to know XIKs could easily kill someone.
Yakto lectured them about what happened during the Karaxes virus. Each of the alliances blamed each other for it, and attacks against each other increased. The Vhent stayed separate from the rest, though The Omni, the only ones whom the Vhent maintained contact with, stated the Vhent dealt with the Karaxes virus with little success. The Karaxes Virus morphing into the Verakas virus wiped out over ninety percent of Xyren and left their homeworld and colonies toxic wastelands. The virus decimated every species’ economy and with the military-XIK conversion ratio being high and the local populace suffering for it, every species neared decimation. Having a large and independent force such as Raxdrýn, one of many mercenary groups used by different species governments’, contributed to the galaxy regaining its footing and recovering not only the galactic economy, but its population.
“So why do people fear Varôks then?” Mischa interrupted, a deep frown on his pale green face.
Celes cocked her head. She had seen humans look at Ayzize in awe on Endeavor, though he had laughed when she said that they highly respected him. The looks that people gave him here were not friendly, though she had thought they found him strange looking.
Yakto paused, the antennae on his head swishing around. “Depends on the culture... actually, no matter the species and culture, people fear what they do not understand. You will go over this in your other classes, but to survive after the Verakas virus declined, Raxdrýn had to take on some.... unreputable... work. It has only been in the last two centuries that we’ve been able to turn our reputation around.”
“I have a question,” Ovuni called. Celes tried not to wince, remembering Ayzize warning her about asking too many questions.
Yakto, on the other hand, looked pleased. Well, Celes thought he did, since he fixated both eyes on her without saying “five laps around the complex”. “Go ahead.”
“If the XIKs aren’t as bad as they used to be, why are we still around? Can’t the military fix it or something?” Ovuni asked. Even Mischa perked up at the question, looking to Yakto for the answer.
Celes felt an odd nervous energy from Yakto via EmTel, so fleeting she thought she misread it. “An
y military, no matter the science or technology behind it, had difficulties in controlling or killing the XIKs and preventing the spread of the Verakas virus, short of bombing the immediate area. Sometimes even that failed, since some varieties of XIKs, like former Omni, could disperse into spores and come back together.
“Soldiers were at risk, since if someone infected them, then it would cause either a loss of life or an extra powerful XIK. Extra training to prepare soldiers meant more money governments didn’t have at the time. Even the most advanced nano-tech didn’t work against XIKs. The XIKs' biggest advantage is their adaptation to any situation, regardless of biology or technology,” Yakto explained. “Now, with XIKs not being as apparent or as common, it is cheaper and uses less manpower to hire a mercenary group such as Raxdrýn rather than bring out a military unit which may or may not know how to correctly kill and dispose of a XIK.”
Mischa glanced over to Celes when Yakto said ‘apparent’, sending over a private mental message. >>Think he’s hiding something?<<
In truth, Celes believed so, but thought Yakto didn’t elaborate so he wouldn’t get off topic. >>I dunno. Ask him?<<
>>And get another three laps? No thanks.<< Mischa slouched in his chair, crossing his arms while Yakto shifted a critical eye at the gesture.
“However, Raxdrýn was formed by soldiers and mercenaries; otherwise we wouldn’t be as successful as we are now,” Yakto continued. “We are one of the few mercenary companies able to survive through the Verakas Crisis, due to not only being effective but innovative with biology and technology, such as gene splicing with alien DNA and creating new weapons and tech. We continued to be profitable by selling this technology and staying relevant with the current political climate, which is why XIK fighting is a subset of our security sector.”
It made sense to Celes, since she and her teammates had to go through a roster of employees. Most were in some form of security, like cybersecurity, military consulting, or actual bodyguards.
Mischa raised his hand, waving it while saying, “I have a question too. We’ll get gene spliced, right?”
Yakto looked at Mischa, and through EmTel Celes could feel his annoyance. “Yes. Again, you’ll go over it in other classes, but a year or two after adolescence, you will choose what other species you will be spliced with—within reason, since none of you can pick the fungal, aquatic, or arthropod DNAs since it wouldn’t work with yours.”
“What about getting spliced with DNA infected with Verakas, or XIK DNA?” Mischa asked, looking at Celes and Ovuni eagerly.
Celes definitely felt something strange from Yakto, and his eyes shifted from all three of the students. “Absolutely not. Besides it being a waste of time, why anyone would think it would be a good idea, no matter how desperate, is beyond me. It sounds useful, being able to adapt to anything and potentially control how you would adapt, which is what I think you’re going for?” Mischa nodded, a little taken aback from Yakto’s harsh tone. “That is a big ‘if’ and controlling mutations that happen at a cellular level isn’t possible; if anything, it would go out of control. So, no, XIK DNA is not available, and I wouldn’t suggest it again.”
Mischa had the grace to mutter an apology, while Ovuni gaped in surprise at Yakto’s severe tone.
A little miffed, Yakto veered the lecture back on topic, and within several minutes the students settled back into their usual bored routine, except for Celes. Staring at Yakto, she frowned, watching him and monitoring his EmTel carefully. She didn’t feel outrage or even indignation from Yakto when Mischa asked the question; instead, it was a panicked, nervous feeling, something deeply ingrained, like the fear she sometimes felt from her father when he would drink. Mischa was right; Yakto was hiding something.
∆∆∆
"Yeah, I think it is weird,” Aloi shrugged as she watched Lyati drape Celes over her hip and toss her over. “I mean, at least I think it is? It’s not like I can read anyone’s mind.”
“I couldn’t do that to Yakto, either.” Celes said as she tucked her head into her chest, her back hitting the mat and slapping the mat with her hand, like the instructor had taught them. Other kids practiced tossing their teammates in the open-air gym, the adult instructors circling the kids with a critical and watchful eye. Lyati backed away, so Celes had room to get to her feet. “He had his barriers up when I tried.”
“Do people know if you’re reading their mind?” Aloi asked as Celes got into a wide squat.
“Depends on the species and how well one is trained,” Lyati said, her turn to watch. Aloi shuffled behind Celes and let Celes hold on to one arm, holding it forward. “Jareshi rarely know when someone reads their mind, but if Yakto is hiding something, then it might be bad...”
“He had a lot of PDTs on him too, I think,” Celes said as an instructor passed, the instructor motioning for Celes to bend her knees more. Aloi weighed at least twenty kilograms more than Celes despite being shorter. Aloi’s arm felt muscular underneath her smooth and scaly skin, so Celes needed to be more mindful of how she threw Aloi versus tossing Lyati, whom Aloi said ‘weighed barely more than a stick’. “So, unless there is some weird new power that bypasses PDTs, I won’t be able to get through it.”
“Is there?” Aloi grunted as Celes reached behind her and wrapped an arm around Aloi’s waist, pivoting and tossing Aloi successfully over her hip.
“Besides an omniscient telepath or telekinetic, it’s supposed to be impossible, even for Iaiedal and Rym,” Lyati said as Aloi rolled on the mat and bounced back up. “Perhaps in the guilds or Aorírdal there might be someone like that, but not here.”
“I’m not sure if Yakto hiding something would be that much of a big deal, though,” Celes added, looking down for a moment. She had told her team her brother had been taken to a guild, but hadn’t mentioned it was Aorírdal. If she did, then people would think her abilities were supposed to be more than what she found they were: average. That, and she still missed Zander.
“Nah, it is,” Aloi said, getting into her own squat, readying to toss Lyati, who begrudgingly stood behind her. “I asked Meiri about it last night after you messaged me. Know what she said?”
“What?”
“Nothing.” Aloi expertly tossed Lyati over her hip, Lyati nearly slamming into the mat from the force before she telekinetically slowed her body to merely bounce on the mat. “Do you know—oh, oops, sorry, Lyati—how weird that is? She usually is chatty and yesterday she didn’t say a peep.”
“Yes, strange to experience silence from a chatty person,” Lyati murmured, shifting to her side and pushing herself up. Her blossoms had shrunk closer into her scalp, looking like flower buds.
“Point is,” Aloi continued, ignoring Lyati’s sarcastic remark, “the adults are hiding something.”
Celes glanced to the instructors, who had moved to the other side of the room to watch several other kids toss each other, before looking back to Aloi. “Adults always hide things.”
“Well yeah, but this seems… different.” Aloi put her hands on her narrow hips as Celes moved behind Lyati so Lyati could throw her. “I’m not the only one who thinks this is strange, right?”
Celes smelled a musky scent from Lyati as she took hold of Celes’ forearm. As Celes had learned, all Selyn gave off a pheromone that could communicate their feelings, and it took a lot of practice to control it. Celes didn’t know Lyati well enough to know which smell meant what, but none of the pheromones smelled bad at least.
“Question for Celes,” Lyati said, pivoting as Celes’ stomach moved over Lyati’s hip and she gracefully flipped Celes onto the mat. Celes hit the mat with her hand again, mitigating the impact from her back as she looked up to Lyati. “Have you… felt as though you were being watched?”
Celes frowned as Aloi cocked her head at the question. “Uhm… what do you mean?” she asked, accepting Aloi’s hand to help her up.
“Around the R&D building.”
There were cameras all over that place, but Celes suspected
that wasn’t what Lyati meant. “I haven’t been around the R&D building other than seeing it from the outside, but come to think of it, I felt… well, that’s stupid.”
“What?”
Celes shrugged. “When I first got through the gate into the complex, there was this time after the first round of decon where I felt weird.”
“Was it like…” Lyati closed her eyes, and Celes felt an odd creeping sensation, pressing around her all at the same time. The sensation brought back memories of Celes’ experience at the gate.
Aloi watched the two of them, an eye-plate raised as she waited for them to finish. “Well?”
“Yeah, kinda felt like that,” Celes said, and the sensation went away. “It was like someone is lightly pressing their hands on your skin and a feeling at the back of your head that you’re being watched,” she told Aloi.
“Hm.” Aloi’s thin lips drew thinner, looking between the two of them. “I thought it could be the cameras but… I don’t know now.”
The three girls stayed silent for a moment before one instructor circled closer, and they hastily resumed throwing each other, giving each other apprehensive looks.
They couldn’t talk for the rest of the day in private. While Lyati and Celes could mentally talk to each other in class, they weren’t able to with Aloi. The last time they tried sending private messages to each other via their Tristats they got caught; the tech in the classrooms put a block on private messaging, something Aloi was not happy with. Celes then had to go to remedial lessons while Aloi and Lyati went off for a break and planned on ambushing their mentors that night during dinner.
While Yakto droned on about galactic history and how the three founding nations discovered each other (The Omni had surveillance tech and overheard the others’ transmissions; the Tial studied astrophysics and pinpointed signs of civilization; and the Vhent were the most technologically gifted even then and bridged a way to meet), Celes kept looking out the window of the residence hall, subtly checking her Tristat AR overlays for the time.
Origins of Hope Page 31
