Aspiria Rising

by Douglas Barton

  “Thoughts I’ve never had before—that’s not a bad definition for … creativity.”

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Dominy shaded his eyes with his hand as the rays of the late-summer sun poured into his new, larger outer cell, a room assigned to a Third. He sat at his desk in the middle of the room like a conductor on a circular stage as the WAR members sprawled out around book stacks. A few young students walked by the window.

  Nalton shoved aside Dominy’s five, crisp new size-four robes and sat on his cot. “Have you met any of them yet?”

  Dominy raised his palms.

  “The new Firsts, they’re so nervous, they’re cinched up tighter than Garin’s robe belt. They remind me of you when you first arrived and debated Vee.”

  Vernan stood. “Trying to ruin my day?”

  Dominy shook his head. Nervous? I thought I was standing tall. “I remember we were all nervous, until orientation. Until we met Petrece and…”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll meet the Firsts.” Cal rubbed his temples with exuberance. “I predict soon.”

  “What?” Dominy asked. “Out of here, all of you. To the basement. Genna’s waiting. Her meeting with the Puppet master must be over by now. And you’re jabbering.”

  “Okay, we’re going.” Cal stole a glance at his timepiece. No one budged. A bell rang. “And, five, four, three, two, one.” Cal’s voice rose, calling for attention. He unfurled one arm, extending his palm through the doorway.

  “It’s open!” someone screamed. Two young faces plugged the doorway.

  “What in Aspiria’s name?” Dominy palmed his ears.

  “New Firsts, I suspect.” Cal puffed his broad chest, billowing his robe, blocking the view into the alcove. “Watch this.”

  The Firsts’ heads bobbed from side to side, frantic, searching for a line of sight. “There he is. Dominy!” a girl shouted. The other First, a boy, extended his arm under Cal’s armpit, his finger pointing at Dominy. “Pardon me.” The student wriggled under Cal’s arm and squinted into the sun’s rays. The boy ascended with the jerking, exaggerated motion of a new worm.

  “Looks like a slippery one, and by the way…” Nalton laughed and pointed at Dominy. “He’s not a master yet.”

  “Uh, you can’t imagine how much this means to, uh, maybe you can, me, Philiam, meeting the great Dominy, the Dominator.”

  The Alliance members laughed.

  Dominy buried his head in his HTS notes. “New worms and they aren’t studying?”

  Philiam seemed unfazed by the snubbing. “Excuse me, I’ve followed your progression, read about you from your first victory in the Games, and may I spend time with you and ask you some questions on your research, and I’m also very interested in the game theory you implemented and, and…” His head bobbed spastically in a final attempt to draw attention.

  “What!” Dominy yelled. “We don’t have time for this.”

  “Please?”

  Dominy clawed his notepad and squeezed. “Not now!”

  Four Armbands burst through the door and grabbed the two Firsts. Philiam tried to twist out of an Armband’s grip. “We’re just trying to learn from them.”

  Nalton hobbled over. “We don’t mind them, really, isn’t that right, Dominy?”

  The lead Armband laughed and turned to Philiam and the girl. “We’re not protecting them from you. Just the opposite.” The Armband glared at Dominy. “Influencing the youth of Aspiria. Sick.”

  The Armbands escorted the two students away. Nalton grimaced at Dominy. “What was that?”

  “I know, incomprehensible. Probably just like Lucean’s martial rule.”

  “No, we should have expected that. I’m talking about your attitude.”

  “Don’t you understand we must focus on the cause?” Dominy stood and slapped the pages of his research.”

  “I thought you’d changed.” Nalton regarded the deserted entryway. “I understand those greenworms.”

  Dominy’s new quote board flashed Scripture: “Easy for someone with the best tools to succeed, an act of courage and inspiration for someone without them.” Just like the younger Nalton, the Nalton he’d first met upon entering Aspiria. He had changed, and for the better. And me? He released his grip and massaged his neck.

  “And aren’t we, the Alliance, doing all this for their future.” Nalton pointed at the empty doorway.

  Dominy staggered and fell back into his chair. “Yes. Nalton. Yes.”

  Nalton shrugged. “What is it?”

  “Wisdom, Nalton, I didn’t understand that until now.”

  “Huh, let’s go. Genna, remember? Time to lightout.”

  The Alliance members filed into the corridor. A pack of Firsts headed toward them. “It’s the Neuron 8 team!” a girl out in front cried.

  The teammates smiled. Cal puffed out his chest.

  Leader girl pointed and laughed. “Outsider freaks! It’s the Victim and all the Conduct Violators.”

  “So much for our taste of fame. Uh oh, here they come.” Dominy turned and ran. “To the basement.”

  Cal, huffing, swiveled his head. “Girls—chasing me. I always pictured it differently. Uh oh, they’re gaining.”

  Nalton hobbled, trying to keep up with the others as they boarded the Pow.

  “Split!” Dominy yelled. “Off the Pow, meet at Artemas.”

  Nalton and Cal laughed and they jumped off the Pow in different directions, Nalton shuffle-running, Cal sprinting.

  Those Firsts would have to return to the student compound soon—today was not a holiday.

  Dominy ran and ran. What a strange feeling. He wove through a lecture crowd, but didn’t catch the title because he was moving too fast. He estimated he’d run fifty paces and, as if hitting a wall, he stopped, exhausted. He shuffled the rest of the way to Artemas.

  The Alliance members arrived in the main room within a few minutes of each other in a similar condition, panting, wheezing and gasping for breath. They huddled near the basement door. Dominy flew down the stairs, the others trailing close behind.

  Partway down, at squeaky stair thirteen, Dominy stopped and raised his hands for quiet. Scraping noises, the pattering of sandals and low voices came from the basement. Ah, Genna. He heaved a sigh. Genna, but who else? Surely the new Firsts weren’t ahead of them.

  They tiptoed down the remaining stairs. White light seeped through the space between the door and its frame. Dominy pulled the handle, and the wooden door screeched. He flung the door open wide. “Augh!” The members shielded their eyes from the near-blinding light.

  Dominy’s eyes adjusted. The harsh white light emanated from bulky flood lamps. “No!” The basement had been swept clean—of everything. “Genna!” He heard no response. The Alliance members stormed through the skeletons of bookshelves. “A black-hole nightmare.” Pattering sounds came from the south wall. “Our research!” They sprinted ahead.

  Ten or so Armbands packed and hauled boxes. Dominy ripped open a crate, his rage boiling. “My ancient history research, where is it?” One of the Armbands stepped up and smirked at Dominy. Smirker? He was the nice Second from the cafeteria that showed him how to ascend. Dominy ascended to him.

  Smirker scowled and wrested the crate from him. “What’s research doing down here?” He scanned the basement, knotting up his face.

  Cal stepped forward. “And my interplanetary communications research?”

  “They’ve taken everything.” Nalton rubbed his eyes. “It’s all gone.”

  “Nothing’s gone. Simply sealed.” Smirker laughed. “Temporarily.”

  Dominy wanted to rip off Smirker’s armband with its hideous R. “Where’s Genna?”

  Smirker tilted his head and squinted.

  “You know, a winner in the Aspirian Games.” Dominy’s voice was thick with sarcasm.

  Smirker shrugged.

  “You can’t do this,” Nalton cried.

  “Not only can we, but we must.” Smirker brushed aside his bangs and drew a wicked, thin sm
ile. “It came from the top. The council ordered us to seal everything here.” He pointed at Dominy’s notepad.

  Dominy, his vision narrowing, tapped it, and a purple-bordered proclamation appeared. “‘A temporary halt in the study of non-essential subjects until adequate additional research into tradables is generated—’” Smirker yanked Dominy’s hand. His arm screamed at him, a fire pulsed through his body.

  “Follow me. Sergian wants to see you. Alone.”

  Sergian peered out his open study window. Was Talia’s offer to release Dominy part of a strategy? She was still his likely challenger to the guardianship. In Talia’s submission, she had chosen every word with precision, softening her voice. Please. The sound of that word, coming from her lips, had surprised him. I’m asking you for a compromise. That compromise had to be the hardest decision of her life. I’ll release Dominy—there, problem resolved. She said the words in quick staccato jabs as if that would lessen her pain. I’ve concluded, I’m not the best fit, I believe this action, will set the tone you’re searching for, and stop any more, unnecessary changes.

  Talia did have one request in releasing her student. I cannot, emotionally, allow him to go to you—my potential challenger.

  A grand irony, Talia, emotional! They agreed to have the council appoint Garin—non-confrontational, non-competitive Garin—as Dominy’s new master. A vote of the council overrode the master selection algorithm.

  Sergian spied a shadow crossing his window. He hated that strut and that head held righteously high. Should I have forced him out a long time ago? Too late for that now. Forcing him out meant he would leave as a legend and a martyr to some, only to be replaced by another. It didn’t matter anyway. The Commonwealth demanded a solution to high-temperature superconductivity now, their fusion reactors were held hostage to the technology. And fairness demanded that Sergian himself provide the research to the Commonwealth.

  Dominy shut the door hard behind him, stared at Sergian and ascended with a crisp flick. “Master, you called for me?”

  Sergian pulled out an aluminum box. “Yes, sit. Talia says you are close to solving the HTS problem.”

  Dominy touched his chest. “Master, I’m working hard.” The young man eyed the box.

  “It’s beautiful isn’t it?” It gleamed like a cube of blue ice in the sun. “It’s a gift for you.” Sergian rubbed its precision-cut sides.

  Dominy arched his back. “Master, you’re not suggesting an exchange of material goods for my research?”

  Sergian snatched a pear. “No, no, it’s purely a gift. Your research, like all research at Aspiria, is to be shared with everyone.”

  “Why me? I mean what about other scientists?”

  Sergian sniffed the ripe fruit. “Oh, they’ve tried. For five years. For some reason they’ve lost motivation.” He waved at the picture window. The door cracked open, and two large eyes peered in. “Enter.” The door swung open. “I believe you two know each other.”

  “Genna?” Dominy ran to her with outstretched arms.

  Sergian stepped in front of him. A glint came from the opening in the agitator’s robe. “Trying to be different, standing above the crowd? Or are you trying to ridicule this new Aspirian way of life, to ridicule me?” Sergian grabbed the metal icon hanging from Dominy’s neck and yanked, snapping its chain. “Think of it as my lesson to you, a lesson in humility.” He twirled the chain in circles and turned to Genna, her face a mask of terror. “Now, let me explain this in a way you both can understand. Sometimes there’s not a good fit between an academy and a student.”

  Genna’s silver eyes glistened. “Master?”

  Sergian chomped into the pear. “Of course, the academy cannot leave.” He squinted at Genna. “Surprisingly, the Commonwealth is searching for a multi-talented artist.” He turned back to Dominy. “Get me the solution to HTS in thirty days or I’ll have no choice but to fulfill their request.”

  Sergian escorted Dominy to the door. He tapped his forehead. “Oh, I almost forgot your gift. Come.” Sergian lumbered to his desk, grabbed the prized aluminum box and handed it to the student.

  Dominy ran his hands over the smooth top. He pulled his head back as if expecting a chemical explosion and slowly pried off the lid. Sergian stood over Dominy’s shoulder, inhaling the sweet, fresh scent emanating from the gift box. Dominy haltingly pulled out a neatly folded robe, identical in style to the one all students wore, with one exception—the color. He raised the luminous yellow robe to eye level.

  A child-like giddiness overwhelmed Sergian. “I had planned to disperse them to everyone—student and master alike—but since you’re intent on standing out, I have decided you alone will wear the color.”

  “Only me?” Dominy’s face turned crimson. He threw it down as if it was contaminated. “It’s hideous. I’m not wearing that!”

  Sergian scooped it up with two hands as if was an injured yellow-breasted robin. He buried his nose in the freshly laundered garment, shook his head and set the robe aside. He dangled the necklace in front of Dominy’s face. “You had no problem sporting this, so of course you will wear the robe.” He put his arm around Genna’s shoulder. “Thirty days.” She twisted as if trying to break away from a gravitational force field.

  Dominy winced and picked up the gift.

  “You’ll find a fresh stack of them in your cell—your whites have already been removed.

  Dominy turned to leave.

  “Hold on.”

  “Master?”

  “Strip.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  The sun’s rays flooded Dominy’s cell, but he stayed in bed. He tapped his chest, instinctively searching for the medallion. Genna was trapped with Sergian, and threatened—they both were. His options dwindled. Finding a solution to HTS was mandatory. He put his hand over his eyes, dragged himself out of bed and reluctantly headed off to meet his master.

  He took the Pow southbound and arrived outside the masters’ quarters. It was time for a confrontation. He walked to Garin’s garden. His master stared at his yellow robe. Dominy wished he was neck-deep in Falling River right now. “Master, please don’t ask.”

  Garin shrugged and they walked along a hedge of brambles. He stopped near the end of the wall. An opening revealed a narrow trail.

  “Master, I never knew this existed.”

  “Not many do. If one doesn’t know what they’re searching for, the path’s difficult to find.” Garin gazed southeast, up the trail toward the base of Starry Mountain. “Yes, there are many paths, but there’s a best path, so why not try to find it?”

  Just beyond the boundary of Garin’s garden, a figure approached them, weaving back and forth.

  “Genna!” He ran and hugged her. “What’re you doing out here, alone?”

  “I have my own garden.” She pointed at several boulders surrounded by tufts of weed-grass. “A secret garden.” She winked at Garin. “I hope you don’t mind, Master. I took this.” She pointed to a daffodil drooping from her hair.

  Garin laughed. “The garden is for all to share.”

  Dominy leaned against one of the boulders. “But I don’t understand.”

  “It’s my quadtime, but I had to get away, to think.” She pulled the flower out of her hair and inhaled. “Before I do something crazy.”

  Dominy caught Garin smiling at Genna’s strange words. “Oh, Master, can Genna join us? Uh, for our walk.”

  “Of course. If you have no other commitments. We’re heading up Starry Mountain.”

  “Thank you!” He interlaced fingers with Genna and they swung arms. These walks aren’t so bad after all!

  Dominy and Genna turned to each other. Time to act. Time to test Garin’s allegiance. “Master, what I think Genna means by doing something crazy, well, it’s our research, it’s been confiscated, and…” Dominy searched Garin’s eyes for a reaction.

  Garin rubbed his bony forehead. “Impossible.” He shrugged. “But perhaps there’s a deeper problem. Perhaps your research hasn’t be
come a part of you.”

  Dominy’s jaw dropped.

  Genna brushed a rebellious lock from her eyes. “Master, Dominy and I’ve been searching for the truth about—”

  “Search for the truth inside yourself.”

  Dominy turned to Genna and mouthed the word, delusional.

  She gripped his hand and they fell behind Garin. She whispered, “Maybe he’s trying to…” She looked at the top of Starry Mountain and thrust her arms out. “Get rid of us.”

  The transition out of the garden was abrupt. The path leading to the base of Starry Mountain turned pitted and dusty. Heading up the steep trail, the two students stopped often to regain their breath or rest their searing calf muscles. At the top, Dominy and Genna doubled over, panting for air, while Garin’s breathing labored no more than if he’d been lying down, reading a book.

  “Master, Genna and I are confused by what’s happening to Aspiria and—”

  “Once, there was an Aspirian student.”

  Once. “Another parable, Master?”

  “Typical in every respect except she was a multiple Games winner.” Garin smiled at Genna. “One day, she spotted an eagle. In the middle of Aspiria. She’d never seen one before, only pictures. The big bird flapped its wings and set off in rising flight before perching on this mountainside. The girl decided to follow the eagle.”

  Dominy laughed. “How do you follow an eagle?”

  “As I said, she’d never seen one before. In fact, she’d never left the area outside the perimeter of buildings. But that day, she decided to climb the mountain to examine the eagle up close. You can imagine how she felt, alone in a mysterious place, scared by unfamiliar sights and sounds. She climbed and climbed but detected no signs of the bird. She forced herself to continue on, struggling higher as the slope steepened. Darkness crept in, and exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her, but she refused to quit. She crawled on trembling hands and knees out to that rock over there.” Garin pointed to an outcropping. “Exhausted, she slung her head around and peered down. There it appeared in its glory.”