Elementis 1: The Heir to the Stone

by Jonathan Wedge

  Hok had already disappeared somewhere inside the warehouse to start searching. The lad didn't want to give his brother another excuse for being his usual argumentative self.

  Jonas let his eyes adjust to the darkness before turning his torchlight to the labels on the boxes in front of him. He moved his torchlight from one package to the next. The freighters were used to spider break-ins from time to time, going to some lengths to disguise their cargo with coded labels but always left to wonder how the ship-spiders managed to figure out the constantly changing codes. Every man has his price, from a ships captain to the warehouse boys. It wasn't all that hard to get the codes for precious cargo with the resources the spiders had under their control. A little threat here and a little threat there from one of the more persuasive of the crew and someone would always cave.

  Jonas called out, "Any luck over there?" he said, loud enough for Hok to hear and quiet enough not to attract any unwanted attention. He waited for a response—none came. "Hok?" he called again. The air was silent.

  Jonas flicked off his torch and crept to the end of the row he was searching. Peering around the corner into the darkness of the storage room he couldn't see Hok's torchlight. He saw only a small red light, hovering in mid air. Then another and another, and twenty or so more red lights turned on. Jonas shone his torch towards them, and catching the sight of white armoured legs he swiftly pulled his torch down, stepping back to hide.

  "Oh shit," he said quietly to himself, taking a deep breath and freezing where he stood.

  He heard Hok begging. Jonas peered back round. Hok's faintly lit frame was standing in front of a squadron of Red-Badge organoids. Each one of the law keepers now aimed their guns at Hok with white laser sights spreading all over the boys body, lighting him up like a garden statue in the night.

  "Wait! Please!" Hok urged, his voice trembling with innocence as he tried to calm the gunmen in the darkness.

  Jonas watched on through the dim light in the hope that the Red-Badges would arrest Hok, then maybe he and Ell could at least rescue the boy from the prison hold and forget all about this job. It wasn't worth getting killed over.

  Jonas activated his communication sleeve, keeping his eyes fixed on Hok. "Ell, get down here. RBs have your brother," he whispered into his arm.

  As soon as Hok finished pleading with the RB officers, their un-emotive programming unleashed a show of rapid lasers as Hok's body spasmed in the flashing lights of more than twenty firing guns. He fell to the ground, the laser sights followed him down. His face was bloodied, lying still against the metal floor, a stiff look of pain etched across his rough wooden face.

  Back onboard the cruiser, Ell had heard the panic in Jonas's voice followed by the shots of the firing squad. "Sounds like it's time to leave!" Ell said back to Jonas. "Good luck humanoid!" he taunted with a cackle, wasting no time in activating the vacuum chamber controls from the cockpit to seal both ships and get out of there.

  Jonas looked up to the ceiling. His escape hole resealed with a clunk. The lights of the warehouse roof flashed on. Jonas drew his blaster, closed his eyes, took a deep breath and burst into the open, spraying laser fire into the semi-organic skin of the Red-Badges. Some fell to the ground, others returned fire missing their moving target. Jonas ploughed into the middle of the RBs, pulling two at a time up into the air and smashing them into the ground. He twisted and ripped off metal limbs, fracturing their helmets with vicious punches before the RBs could react to the attack. More and more officers ran to the aid of the squadron as Jonas knocked them away with swinging fists and back hand lashes. Two energy-straps wrapped around Jonas's arms, he felt the buzz of the glowing energy warm against his skin. Two more straps restrained the boys legs. He struggled on until he realised he couldn't break free from the energy or the hold of the five RBs at each end of the straps. He struggled down to a calm acceptance that he had been captured.

  The Red-Badge captain walked onto the deck to see the mess of officers strewn across the floor. He came up close to Jonas. "Take him to Kroyto!" he said with rigid lip movements that matched the robotic edges of his face. "He won't enjoy it—one little bit!" he said.

  Jonas held his gaze into the fabricated sheen of the captains eyes. He had heard about the inmates of the prisons on planet Kroyto, and from the stories captured spiders had told him, the captain was right; he wouldn't enjoy it, not one little bit.

  Chapter III

  Wild Minds

  Morning arose and Prince Calyx stood alone on top of a palace tower, gazing out across the city of Enterra. The palace was a grand building topped with spires, towers and small dome roofs, but the tower on which Calyx stood was always his chosen spot to watch the city awake in the morning.

  The outer stone walls of the palace were decorated with panes of impressive stained-glass windows. The gentle gush of a freshwater river ran beneath the lower foundations of the palace, flowing right through the centre of Enterra and on to the unseeable ocean's edge, way beyond the city's walls. Floating courtyards bridged across the river-banks, connecting the palace to the streets and sky high buildings in the city beyond.

  Calyx stood peacefully, watching speeding transporters taking Cytherean Guard to their daily posts as the morning watch took over from the night guards. He ran his fingers across the slight protrusion of his blue birthmark upon his jaw. Somehow it gave him comfort with the thought that this is what his mother had given him before she had died. The blue scar was as clear as the day of his birth and apart from his fine woven clothes, his silver head-band and the golden crescents of the energy-star that he wore on his left wrist; Calyx looked just like his twin brother.

  Being alone with his thoughts in the mornings gave Calyx the only time he ever had to himself. The only time he ever had to think about just himself and nothing else. His life was far from easy, being constantly pushed to his mental and physical limits without too much thought from anyone about his own needs and well-being. The king was to hand down the Elementis to him in just three years time, when he reached his eighteenth year and inherited all of the power of his father. Until then, every single day was dedicated to prepare him for only that moment. He trained in solitude each day with Witakker and each time that he reached a level of theory advanced enough to progress he was trained in a new area of combat with the kings four protectors; Hawk, Wingrise, Spirit and Tempo. Calyx, of course had his own four protectors. The bond the five of them had built grew with every meeting, but Calyx rarely got to see them. The protectors trained as hard as the prince himself, and were often flown off to Obitrum for military exercise months at a time. And although he enjoyed the company of the kings protectors, Calyx had begged his father to let him join the Junior Guard and his own protectors at the Guard Academy on Obitrum too many times to remember. The king would never allow it. Calyx was far too precious to leave the palace, let alone to leave the planet. The pressure that came with his training left no time for any of life's luxuries or enjoyments and so a moment of self-reflection in the morning was as good as it got for the prince. Reflection helped him focus on his own importance. He knew that the people depended on him to protect them once his father stood down from his duties. The thought of ruling them was the only thing that got him through each day. He knew how much they needed him.

  The first born prince closed his eyes in the serenity of the morning warmth as Valo edged up above the horizon illuminating a dying nights sky, and warming Calyx's face. Shades of pink and orange faded up into a blue and black twilight. The rising heat of Valo filled the air of the city with particles which danced in the light of a shifting breeze as if a storm of dust blew between the shadows of the buildings. Four moons of differing phased crescents hung in the sky like stepping-stones leading up to the heavens. Calyx opened his eyes back to the world. He thought to himself that no matter how many planets he would visit in his lifetime, the rising of Valo on their home planet of Aquilla would surely never have a rival.

  His morning peace was disturbed by fo
otsteps. Only one person would come to break his morning thoughts. King Uly walked out onto the tower roof. Calyx did not look around nor greet his father. At times the very presence of him made his heart sink to his stomach. Calyx knew that Uly had only come to give him a lecture, or to put him down in some unsubtle way which he thought would serve only to make his son stronger and somehow more impervious to war. Uly took a place by his son's side, enjoying the view unfold before him.

  "It's a beautiful world we live in," the king said, giving a glance across to his sons light-absorbed face.

  "Sometimes I think so," said Calyx, locking his eyes on the morning mist.

  "You don't think it's worth fighting for?" Uly asked.

  "I am told what to think. You know that Father," Calyx said.

  The king was calm and unmoved by the sharpness of his sons response. Uly opened his mouth to give Calyx a few home truths. He held back. Instead he took in a breath of air and kept his thoughts inside.

  Regardless of what went through Calyx's mind, Uly did not set out to upset his son with every word he said. He cared deeply for him, even if he did find difficulty in displaying his affections. The task ahead required a tough exterior, something Uly had spent the last fifteen years explaining to his boy.

  Calyx glanced down at some children, laughing and chasing each other in the royal courtyard below. His face became soulless as he watched on. He needed a friend to talk to; he only had his father.

  "I had a dream last night," he said, without moving anything but his lips and still not wanting to look at his father. "A friend that I have never even met was killed by a squadron of white and red uniformed soldiers. I watched helplessly as they shot him to the floor in the dark."

  The king closed his eyes in disappointment, this was exactly the nonsense he wished to beat out of his son.

  "You would do well to live in your own world, Calyx. Controlling the Elementis takes a strong enough mind, but you know we need more from you. If you are not capable of what is expected you must tell me."

  "I am capable, Father!"

  "When you can control the minds of the dydrid, then you will be capable."

  "I need time. I'm trying, Father. It's just…" Calyx lowered his head, there was so much he wished to say but Uly would not want to hear it.

  The king set his strong blue eyes firmly onto Calyx. "It is just what?" he asked, perhaps too sharply.

  The boy looked up to his father. "It's just, I've never had any fun or any friends. Not really. And I've never had a mother… I wouldn't mind that!" he said, daring to be truthful. "Just for a day!"

  "The Zohr grows stronger with every darkening moment—you must always learn and never play," Uly reminded him.

  Calyx wrapped his hand around the energy-star on his wrist and stared at its golden clasps that fed deep beneath his skin. He turned, storming away with an angered look on his face that tightened his lips and tensed his eyes. The prince didn't want to be anywhere near his father. He didn't understand. He didn't want to understand.

  "Calyx!" the king growled, with a fatherly tone.

  Calyx halted on the spot, with a breath of defeatism for not carrying on to leave. He exhaled as calmly as possible, turned back to his father and looked him straight in the eye. "I am always learning and never playing," he said. "But it's never enough, Father, not for you!"

  Calyx turned and ran.

  Making haste through the long hallways of the palace, he snuck past doorways and security points, careful not to be seen. He'd decided enough was enough, he needed to escape this place, it had all become too much to bear. He hurried, boiling up inside. He leapt out into the palace gardens breathing heavily with a covering of water building in his eyes. He ran along side the base of a high metal and stone wall for some time until he came to the very furthest part of the garden. He stopped at a dead end and with a touch of his hand, a concealed door slid open leading out to the forests of Andawan. He fell through the door, giving his knees to the ground, clutching his head in his hands. The door slid closed behind him and now that there was no one to see his weakness he let the tears stream from his hurt-filled eyes, lifting back his head and straining his jaw wide open to scream into the sky. His breathing calmed but his anger remained deep inside of him. Taking a solid rock firmly in his hand, he got to his feet and threw it against the closed metal door behind him. The rock exploded on impact. Calyx looked at the domes and towers beyond the palace wall with a loathing in his eyes. His stare filled with doubt at thoughts of leaving the palace boundaries. But as his upset subsided with a few steadying breaths his mind became as clear as he had ever known. Calyx turned his back on his home and walked into the forbidden darkness of the forest.

  *

  Surrounded by piles of junk metal and unfinished gadgets springing with wires, a young boy lay flat on his back firing away with a welding tool at the seal of a hoverbike propped up with metal blocks. Sparks of loose flame fell down from the welding torch adding to the charcoaled dirtiness that painted his adorable face. Twain tried his best to hide his handsomeness beneath the black marks and a pair of goggles which covered almost his entire face and clung delicately to the end of his button nose. His goggle-straps were fully tightened around his head but did nothing except lend a tiny bit of control to his wild hair which he hadn't brushed since it was last cut. As young and small as he was, Twain handled the welding flame with the accuracy of a veteran ship-joiner, his hand holding its course as steadily as an artist stroking oils onto a canvas. Twain's homemade droid, Lynk stood beside a table across the room, picking up and fiddling with bits of metal.

  "What is this one my serdar Twain?" Lynk queried, eyeing up a cubed object that he held awkwardly between his semi-dextrous digits.

  Lynk had taken a liking to calling his master "serdar". Twain wasn't sure where the word had come from. He had programmed politeness into the droid but not self-thinking. The last thing Twain wanted was for his droid to be left to make his own decisions and go wandering off like a lost child every time he wasn't looking. No, Twain figured Lynk must have picked the term up from some ancient scroll installed in one of his language programs or somewhere similar. All that Lynk was able to relay from his circuitry was that it meant Twain was his master and Twain was more than fine with being a master at just ten years old.

  Twain didn't look up to see which part Lynk was questioning in his hands, he was too busy with his welding. He supposed he'd give Lynk the most appropriate answer. "Put it down, Lynk before you vaporize your wiring again!" he said.

  "I wish to learn as much as you, if that's possible my serdar?" Lynk said, with a slight squeak in his voice.

  "Well, it's not. I haven't made your neural system complex enough. I only need an info-droid; my brain works more than fine for the both of us!" Twain told him.

  As Twain stopped speaking a light powered up on the underneath of the hoverbike, and jumped a few inches into the air. The makeshift prop of metal blocks fell away to the floor and the bike buzzed, gently bobbing up and down unaided in mid-air.

  "You might be on to something though," Twain realised as he got to his feet. "I would get a lot more done if there were two of me!"

  A flash of light zapped from the metal object in Lynk's hands, striking his forehead. Twain removed his charred goggles and watched the smoke pouring out of a black burn mark on Lynk's fried metal head. His eyes had dropped along with his limbs, he began to slump and he fell to a heap on the floor. Twain looked over at the glorified mess of recycled spanners in despair, shaking his head at him.

  "Maybe you could use just a few more neurons!" Twain conceded.

  Twain's mother carried a tray of sugared drink, vegetables and sliced meats into the den as Twain hurried across to clear a space on the table for her to set the tray down. Lora was a born mother, always caring for Twain's best interests and with a heart so warm that she instantly cared for almost everyone she ever met. Somehow she always managed to see the good in people and hardly an ounce of negativity ev
er left her tender lips.

  "Will you be working into the night again, dear?" she asked, catching a sight of Lynk collapsed on the floor.

  "Looks like it, Ma."

  Lora ruffled Twain's messy hair. He pushed his head up enjoying the scratching against his skull like an animal who could never reach that part of his head to relieve an itch. Most mothers would have told their sons to get a haircut, but she just smiled at how adorable he looked. She wasn't concerned with such trivial things, what did a haircut matter in the whole scheme of life. She just felt lucky to have Twain with her at home, she knew that he wouldn't be around for that much longer.

  "Don't forget to come and give me a kiss good night, I hardly ever see you these days you're working so hard!" Lora said, with a proud smile as she watched her son lifting Lynk beneath his pits onto the work bench and beginning to unscrew the plating from the back of his head. She began to walk away, leaving him to work.

  "Okay, Ma," Twain answered with a delayed response, not really paying attention to what his mother had said.

  Lora turned back. "Oh, your father holoported, he sends his love."

  Twain noshed away on a vegetable as he attended to Lynk's wiring. He stopped, looked up at his mother with a smile. "I know, he always does!" he mumbled with a mouthful. Lora smiled back and left him to work.

  *

  A whisper from the eyes of the forest travelled through the darkness, telling of a lost soul who wandered alone. The eyes of the forest saw many things and those eyes were not on the same side as Calyx.

  The ancient forests of Andawan, in which Calyx freely roamed, were all that stood between good and evil; they were the separating barrier between the cytherean city of Enterra and the dydrid fortress of Mercron. The forests were not a place you would wish to find yourself alone and Calyx was well aware of the dangers that lurked within them, but with the mood that had struck the prince that morning, he just didn't care.