Twain firmed his grip on his weapon, moving it closer to the older boy, "I'm not a kid and I'm not clever. I'm ten and a half and I'm a genius. Tell him Lynk."
Lynk happily confirmed. "Yes, my serdar, Twain is 10 years and 233 days old and he has the mental capacity of a 187 year old."
"Okay, good for you, but I'm in a real hurry here," said Jonas.
"Lynk, confirm his identity!" said Twain, moving the gun closer still to Jonas, causing Jonas to raise his dropping hands higher.
Lynk's belly popped out and slid up, revealing a data-screen that sat behind the metal plate on his stomach. Twain watched with interest as an image of Jonas showed up with a high-alert signal.
Jonas needed to move on. He was becoming impatient. "Look, I don't mean anyone any harm. I just want to get back to Rilk and forget all about this place."
Twain was fascinated, he probed the fugitive for more information. "What did you do to get every Guard on the planet looking for you?"
Jonas was annoyed that he had to explain himself to a ten-year-old holding a drill in his face. "It's possible I'm the king's son but I've done nothing! I didn't even know him until five minutes ago and now all of a sudden he wants to play happy families."
"He's telling the truth serdar," said Lynk, making use of the flawless lie detection system built into his program.
Jonas sounded desperate. "I need to figure out how to get out of here. They're going to send me back to Kroyto!"
Twain lowered his weapon.
"Kroyto?" said Twain, with his interest levels soaring. "Come on, tell me the story on the way. I live in Subterennea—the undercity, not the nice part, but mother won't mind for a night. I've got a ship as well! Well nearly, I need one more part for it. It's an old shipwrecked dekapod, crashed in the forest of Andawan. It's yours for the pendant around your neck. I could do with one of those."
"A ship? That can get me home?" asked Jonas.
"Seems to me that you're already home, but yes, you can go where you like once I've fixed it," said Twain.
Jonas pondered the exchange of a ship for the pendant. This kid was the stupidest genius he'd ever met. Aside from the fact that he was the only genius he'd ever met, the exchange was clearly unfair. Young Twain still had some way to go in understanding the value of supply and demand, but Jonas needed a ship to leave this place more than anything else right now and here was a way out, standing right in front of him. He put a hand around his mother's pendant, knowing that it was all that remained of her now.
*
Torchlight skipped off the surface of a damp tunnel wall as the boys floated along, riding the hoverbike with Lynk clinging to Jonas's back. Twain talked a lot, babbling on about solving the theory involved in capturing the energy of a supernova the second it explodes; he believed it would be the most powerful energy force known to man but he lost Jonas at "neutrino-displacement" and Jonas took his mind back to being in that room with the king. He felt disheartened. His father was nothing like how he'd imagined and it was no medical centre accident after all that had meant he'd spent his life alone. He didn't want to think about it; he just wanted to get as far away from him as he could. Jonas turned his mind to wondering what this undercity where Twain was taking him would look like. Dark and damp he supposed, judging by this tunnel; and probably full of dirt and with the people to match—it reminded him of home.
"Are you sure your mother won’t mind?" Jonas said to Twain, interrupting the boys talk that had moved on to the untapped potential power of the energy inside black holes.
"Of course not, she’ll be pleased of the company!" Twain assured him.
"And it’s safe for you? I don’t want to get you in any trouble," Jonas said, thinking back to when Hok was blasted apart in front of his eyes. Jonas had laid in that prison cell thinking it over in his mind again and again as to whether or not he could have done something different, something to save Hok from dying so young. Why Jonas cared so much he didn't know, neither Hok nor Ell would have given it a second thought if it had been Jonas who was on the receiving end of the Red-Badges' blasters. Nonetheless, Jonas wanted no part in putting Twain in any danger.
Twain smiled to himself in the shadowed light, "The Guard don’t come around my way, even when looking for missing princes, you don't need to worry."
Twain switched off the hoverbike's front lights and Jonas saw a soft glowing of multi-coloured light mixing with the darkness at the end of the tunnel. The colours refracted through the air as if it was some magical doorway to a land beyond the living. The tunnel ended as they reached the other world. Twain stopped the bike on top of a ledge where the ground fell away beneath them. Jonas stood up, his eyes were hypnotized by the luciferase ceiling of a gigantic cave. The sky was alive with vibrant sparkles of yellows, reds, blues, purples and greens. Algae and worms that lived in the roots of the trees above the ground lit up the world below. The underground city of Subterennea was blessed with an eternal night, a night filled with stars more beautiful even than the real night sky. Beneath the sky, towering buildings glittering with lights spired up from the ground to the cave top and great glass lifts rose and fell to and from the world above. Transporters went about their business, floating between the buildings and the look that was held on Jonas's face told Twain that he never would have imagined a city such as this existing. His jaw was ajar, as he took in the awe of the life beneath the ground.
The city was split into several settlements. To the left was the main district, packed with tall buildings and bright lights that perched up high on a mighty ledge. At the bottom of the cliff below was a village which sat beside a dark flowing river. A dozen separate hamlets stretched out along the river towards the back of the cave before it disappeared into darkness. And then down to the right, carved into the rock sides lay a scattered town of sweet and modest houses, finished with dried-grass roofs and fires that flickered a warming light through their windows.
"Come on, just down here," Twain said, kicking the bike into life with Lynk now clinging on to his back.
Jonas moved his head from side to side one last time, taking in the view beneath him before he jumped back onto the bike. Twain hovered off towards the town cut into the base of the rock.
They pulled up outside a small shack, wooden-framed doors and windows dressed the un-rendered clay and pebble walls that backed onto a solid cliff. Twain opened the door for Jonas to enter. He could feel the warmth of the place as he walked beneath the mantel. Not just the warmth of a crackling fire but a feeling of love that oozed from every corner of the spotless floors and warm rugs and cosy chairs. Everywhere Jonas looked he imagined the laughter and closeness of Twain's family. It was everything he'd never had.
Twain introduced Jonas to his mother, Lora. She was very welcoming of Twain's new friend even after Twain explained everything to her with Jonas filling in the gaps at the parts that Twain didn't yet know. Lora suggested that running away might not be the best thing to do under the circumstances but Jonas must do what he felt was right for him. Jonas had never had a mothers point of view before but he felt that returning home to what he knew best was the only thing he could do.
Twain took Jonas into his workshop. He sat down on a stool, picked up a small metal part, pulled a magnifying glass towards himself and began to inspect it, "This minim is all that stands between you and returning to Rilk," said Twain.
Jonas peered down at the insignificant looking piece of metal in Twain's hand. And with a determined look of escape on his face, he reached around to the back of his neck and removed his pendant.
"Twain, thank you, no-one has ever really helped me before," Jonas said, handing his pendant over. "My pendant, as we agreed. It belonged to my mother, I hope it will mean as much to someone else one day as it has to me."
Twain looked at Jonas. He put down the minim and picked the pendant out of Jonas's hand to have a closer look, "No one's ever helped you?" he said, inspecting the item.
"Not for as long as I can remember."<
br />
"Well… you keep it!" Twain told him, running his fingers over the patterns on the stone's outer casing.
"Don't you want it?" said Jonas.
"Helping doesn't mean getting something in return." Twain said, sliding the pendant across the table to Jonas. Jonas smiled and took it back. This kid wasn't a stupid genius, thought Jonas. He was the kindest person he had ever met and for the very first time in his life, he felt true admiration for another person. His smile didn't fade as he realised it was even more than admiration. Jonas had made a friend.
Lora walked into the room to check on the boys. "Jonas, I’ve made you a bed next to Twain’s. Now do you two need any more food for the night?" she said, mothering them the only way she knew how.
"No thanks, Ma," said Twain, returning the minim under the magnifying glass.
"I can't thank you enough, Lora," said Jonas.
"Oh, any time young Jonas. Since Twain’s father has been away on service, he’s not had much company."
Jonas looked over to Twain. "Your father is in the Guard?"
Twain twisted around on his stool to join in the conversation. "Everyone’s father is in the Guard! He’s based on trade moon 4, and even I start training on Obitrum as soon as I hit eleven - I just can't wait!" he beamed.
Jonas looked deep in thought, "You'll train for the Guard, at eleven?" he asked, thinking that perhaps this spotless society of theirs wasn't so perfect after all.
"Everyone does Jonas. We’re at war. We need good soldiers! It’ll be great. Maybe I’ll serve with my father one day and we’ll fight off the fantoms side by side," Twain said, smiling wildly as he grabbed a piece of metal, holding it like a blaster, spinning around the room with laser noises shooting from his mouth.
"I don’t know why you’re so excited about leaving your poor old mother," said Lora.
"You’ll be all right, Ma. Lynk will be here with you."
Twain ran over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, bringing a warm smile to her face. She bent down and kissed the top of her sons messy-haired head.
"Yes, I'll be all right," she said.
Lora's pocket flashed with a white light, and vibrations tickled her stomach catching her by surprise. "Looks like your father wants to say good night," she said, pulling a round disk from her pocket.
"Put him on the table!" Twain said, full of excitement.
Lora moved over to Twain's work desk. "Hello Ando dear," she said, talking into the contraption. "I'm just setting you down."
A small figure of a man popped out of the holoporter, grinning from ear to ear. "Haven't got long, wanted to speak with the boy, Lora, see what he's been up to every time I port down and he's busy!"
Twain leant in close. The holoporter scanned down his face with a ray of light. "Hello, Father. Just been working on a few things that's all!"
"Well don't forget about me will you!"
"When are you coming home next?" said Twain.
"Not for a while yet son! But… how would you like a trip up soon to see your old man?"
"Really?" Twain said. "Can, Ma come too?"
Ando laughed. "Yes really!" he said. "And I wouldn't have it any other way!"
Someone called across to Ando at the other end. He turned away for a second.
"Sorry, son, big shipment of oxygen heading over to planet Atar. The airq need it pronto. I'll port you again soon—we'll sort everything out!"
"Can't wait! See you soon, Father!"
"Stay happy!" Ando said, disappearing into air.
Jonas smiled at the look on Twain's face as the chattering between him and Lora tingled with happiness at the idea of visiting the trade moon. Jonas's smile was firmly pasted on his face. He would never have thought that this was how the day would turn out. He started thinking back over the most improbable day that he was ever likely to have. After an entire life of knowing mostly the hardships of looking after himself, today he'd been told that he was in fact a prince, that he was needed to defend against a dark army that he knew little of and that if he did not agree to protect the Elementis he would be sent back to rot on Kroyto forever. What was so important about stopping this Zohr? His mind questioned. But did he really need to know? How could he ever conceive of helping the father who'd sent him away. As much as having a father in his life was what he had always wanted, he just couldn't forgive right now. He would return home and that would be the end of it.
Chapter VI
Thoughts
A black night sky glistened with stars above Calyx. The vibrant light of three of the trade moons lit up the field of treetops that bristled in the wind beneath his balcony. The bright, horizon-lights of his city in the distance shone up to the sky like a flamed warning beacon, an ever-present reminder to Calyx that he was so close to home and yet so far away. He stared up to the moons with a silver gaze; a part of his soul was missing from the blue eyes that had once given his face such kindness. He felt colder inside too. The Zohr had filled his veins with physical strength but something else had been replaced when Calyx was dydrified. The boy felt lost within himself and the longer it went that his father did not come to rescue him, the colder he grew.
A soft draft blew around his skin as someone slid open the balcony door from his quarters to join him under the nights sky. He ignored their presence, keeping his eyes fixed up to the stars. Princess Willow ran a delicate hand across his shoulder blades as she walked past. A woman's touch was a rare thing in Calyx's freedom-less world. A woman's sensual touch was even rarer. Calyx did not move. Had his heart contained his own blood it may well have inflamed with a lust for a loving touch, but as it was now, his heart was made of only metal.
Willow stood beside Calyx, joining him to observe the night. "Are you comfortable enough?" she asked.
"Princess Willow," he said, in a way that let her know he had been told all about her. "My burns have healed well."
"We heal remarkably," the princess told Calyx.
"I will never be one of you," Calyx said, looking over to her pale, moonlit face.
Willow made no eye contact. She turned and walked a few paces away from Calyx staring out to the night. "A metal heart. A cytherean soul. Perhaps you are the one I've been waiting for."
"The one for what?" Calyx barked, not appreciating any riddles she may try to implant into his thoughts.
"My grandfather will have too much power when he wins the Elementis. There are those amongst us who have stronger minds. We do not want such stringent ruling."
Calyx kept his gaze tight on Willow's bare-backed dress, caught between thoughts of anger and thoughts of passion about the shapely girl who visited him after dark. He stared at the long shining braids of Willow's hair which waved down with perfection upon the cold skin of her open spine.
The anger won his thoughts. "The Zohr will never hold it. He cannot!" Calyx assured her.
"He will sweet prince," she argued. "Which is why we must work together!"
Calyx suspected the princess had been sent to him with a purpose. Sent to soften him up, to test how firmly his loyalties lay with the cythereans. His eyes raged into the back of Willow's head. He calmed himself. He would not give her the satisfaction of rising to her games.
"For what purpose would you and I work together?" he asked.
Willow turned. Her green eyes as sincere as a lover telling a man she would be his forever, she looked deep into Calyx's single-toned grey eyes. "For peace," she said.
Calyx laughed at the princess. Willow was good at these games that was certain. The very word, peace had not been uttered by a single soul in over a thousand years on planet Aquilla, unless discussing the lack of it.
"The dydrid and us, live in peace?" he mused, shaking his head. "Princess that’s a dream that not even my mind would awaken," he said, as he laughed to her face.
Princess Willow stood still. A hardened look fell across her beautiful face. Her lips made no movement as she spoke through her eyes to the prince. "Your mind must be opened."
/> Calyx heard her voice in his inner ear as clearly as if she had spoken aloud. His smile disappeared, his lips tightened and his eyes squeezed. "My mind does what I want it to!"
"Then you must see what is to come," Willow proclaimed with her thoughts.
Calyx closed his eyes. He processed all of the dangers that he knew of the dydrid— how much hate they felt for the cythereans and the lengths at which they would go to take the Elementis from his father. His eyes shot open.
"I see darkness," Calyx said, looking deep into her mind.
Willow returned no thoughts. She bowed her head. "Sleep well my prince," she said, disappearing through the weightless curtains flailing in the breeze.
Calyx resumed his gaze to the skies. How much longer would his father make him wait? Evil was stirring in the minds of the dydrid and Calyx could do nothing to stop it.
*
The moonlight trembled in Uly's eyes. Had he not forced himself to be such a strong man he may well have shed a tear with all of the emotion that coursed through his heart and mind at this moment. He stood outside on a hold above the palace walls, facing towards Mercron. He could not see the fortress in all of its darkness but he knew exactly where it was to stare straight at it.
Witakker walked up to the king, placing a friendly hand upon his shoulder. "You have a lot on your mind," he observed.
"Even more on my conscience," the king replied.
"You have always done what you considered to be the right thing," Witakker told him.
Uly's feelings thrust anguish to the forefront of his mind. "All I have done is push my failures onto my sons—they deserve better."
"Hawk will find Jonas and Calyx will survive—do not torture your thoughts," Witakker advised.
"What can I do, Witakker? I should have listened to you when Jonas was born."
Witakker had never heard the king talking like this, he was always so afraid to show any weakness, yet Witakker knew that ever since the day of the princes' births that somewhere deep inside, the king cared greatly for his family.
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