Following the worn trail of scuffed metal flooring, Daith made her way to what seemed to be an ordering counter. Green walls brought color into an otherwise gray-metallic room, but the harsh lighting gave everyone’s skin a yellowish-green hue.
When she came up to the edge of the counter, a small creature, about a meter high, came over. The little being with three legs, was bright blue and covered with white bumps. Two long, flexible arms protruded from where the legs met. It had no apparent head; only a flattened top where all its legs met, like a three-legged stool. Many of these creatures flitted around in the background carrying large trays of food on their flattened heads.
It squeaked at her and handed her a datapad with a listing of food options, a larger variety than what she could order from her food chute in her quarters.
“I’ll have the broiled kapari root soup, please.”
The small being squeaked and rapped the datapad with its three stubby fingers.
“Oh, sorry.” Daith tapped the soup she wanted and handed the datapad back. The creature chirped and scurried toward the kitchen. Daith waited for a few standard minutes and the creature returned, the soup balanced comfortably on its head.
“Thanks.” She took the soup and searched for a place to sit. One table sat four young men, who appeared to be about her age. They laughed while one of them told a story. The long, metal table could seat many more, so Daith approached with caution, nervous to ask to join them. A desperate feeling surged through her—loneliness. With no one to talk to and too much time on her own, Daith felt a need to reach out to someone.
And perhaps they’d be willing to help her gain access to the ship’s computers.
She came up to the open end of the table and cleared her throat.
“Morning!” she said, her voice higher than usual.
The individual telling the story blinked his wide, blue eye in surprise. His large stinger swished behind him briefly before it settled back onto the floor. The other members of the group stared—one man briefly choked on his food, another paused mid-bite, juices from his sandwich dribbling down his chinless face.
“Mind if I join you?” she asked.
Each of them eyed the other, waiting for the other to take the lead.
“Of course, Miss Tocc,” the storyteller finally said. “Although we were finishing up. Got to get back to work, you know.”
“Yes,” chimed in the one who’d choked, his voice wheezy. “I’m full.”
The others nodded in agreement, standing quickly and clearing their dishes.
“Have a pleasant day,” the storyteller said.
Daith remained standing, alone. She hadn’t failed to notice most of their meals were only half-eaten.
A little put off, Daith wondered if perhaps they felt embarrassed by the story they were telling and didn’t want her to join. Or maybe they really hadn’t realized how much time had passed and didn’t want to be late.
Still determined to meet someone, Daith set her sights on a young woman with bronze skin and short, reddish hair who sat eating alone, a datapad in her hand.
“Good morning,” Daith said as she approached. The woman’s amber eyes widened considerably when she noticed Daith.
“Miss Tocc,” she stammered. She dropped her datapad into her vegetable mash, coating the back with purple clumps.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“No, no, it’s fine.” The woman picked up the datapad from her food and wiped the mess off with a cloth. “I didn’t expect—I mean you’re here—I mean it’s fine you’re here….”
“I wanted to ask if I could join you,” Daith said, trying to salvage the situation. “Miss…?”
“Ikar. Cadet Ishia Ikar.”
Daith put her soup down on the table. “Pleasure to meet you, Cadet Ikar.”
Cadet Ikar’s stared at the soup. “Oh, um, the thing is, Miss Tocc, I’m really busy with this report and, not to be rude, but I would rather eat alone.”
Daith watched Cadet Ikar cringe at the end of her statement.
“No problem. I understand,” Daith said, picking up her soup. She heard the cadet let out a breath. “Perhaps another time?”
Cadet Ikar swallowed hard and a hesitant grin touched her lips. “Of course,” she said.
With quick steps, Daith moved away, troubled. That encounter also seemed unusual. But perhaps Cadet Ikar worried about offending her. And she had seemed busy.
Deciding not to push her bad luck a third time, Daith sat away from any other crewmembers and ate her soup alone. If her answers lay inside the ship’s computer and she needed an access code to get to them, a connection with someone on board would be necessary. But even though everyone seemed to know her, no one would talk to her.
When she’d finished, she brought her bowl to the front and turned to leave. As she did, she spotted two other individuals congregated around Cadet Ikar, speaking softly. One of them glimpsed over at Daith and quickly averted her gaze.
A blush crept into her cheeks and Daith left the mess hall quickly and returned to her quarters. She felt herself wishing Dru was around. She didn’t know him well, but he’d been the only one so far who hadn’t treated her with…what, exactly? Fear?
Daith let out a sharp breath. What was everyone’s problem? She’d been attacked, right? Why did everyone act like she was some sort of disease to avoid?
Anger swelled inside Daith’s chest. A slow warmth, like a flaming ember, burned in the pit of her stomach. I just want to find out who I am and get off this stupid space station and go home. Why bother wishing? There wasn’t even a home for her to go back to.
Daith left her quarters. She didn’t want to be there, alone, again. But no one wanted to be around her. She wouldn’t see Dru until the next morning and she knew Trey was extremely busy. Wandering brought her back to the simulation rooms. Simulation room 3 appeared empty. She took a seat on the white floor.
“Please select a program.”
Daith thought for a moment before she answered the computer. “The planet Sintaur, please.” She felt like sitting beside the huge waterfall Trey had shown her, letting the spray wash away some of her thoughts.
“Program will take three point four standard minutes to load.”
Daith closed her eyes and breathed deeply, trying to regain some sense of calm. Frustration bubbled inside her. She wanted to remember something—anything—about her life, her home, her family.
“Program complete.”
Daith opened her eyes and brought her hand to her mouth in horror.
“Computer?” she whispered. “Is this the planet Sintaur?”
“Correct. This is the most recent image capture of the capital city, Wolina.”
Daith peered over the same cliff edge she’d been with Trey. The waterfall still lay to her right, water cascading into the valley beneath. But everything appeared horribly different.
The water itself, now brown and dingy, pooled below at half the volume of before. The golden-leafed trees at the base were gone, replaced by rotten stumps which stuck up from the ground. The remaining grass in the valley was charred, but most had been paved over with large slabs of gray concrete, creating a crude road. Birds didn’t fly. Insects remained out of sight. The whole place was quiet, except for the sound of rushing water and loud bangs in the distance. Daith peered into the horizon. A multitude of buildings silhouetted, shrouded in a low, gray cloud of smog.
Daith lowered her hand from her face and pushed herself up. How terrible for Trey to know the change to his homeworld. No wonder he’d created the other program, holding on to the memory of what things were like before Sintaur’s civil war.
“Computer, end program.”
The scene vanished before her, enveloping her once again in whiteness and silence.
She left the simulation room, heading back to her quarters. Could this be why Trey had withheld information about Daith’s own home? To prevent her from feeling the pain when she witnessed her hou
se in ruins?
Along the way, another crewmember approached, this one again close to her age, but with dark skin and ripples of long, yellow twisted hair hanging behind his head. His three eyes widened at the sight of her, and he moved himself closer to the opposite wall, scuttling past on pincer-shaped legs.
Daith entered her room, scowling, and kicked the wall beneath the console. What was going on here? Everyone seemed terrified of her. How would she ever learn about herself if she couldn’t find out on her own—or ask someone else for help?
She couldn’t access the ship’s computer without a password. She couldn’t get a password out of anyone because no one would come near her.
Her pale arm streaked through the air as she pummeled the bed’s pillow.
The only one she got any real information from was Dru. At least he didn’t cringe at her mere presence.
Daith plopped on the bed, her legs tucked underneath her body, and wrapped the gray sheet around her slim shoulders. If she wanted to find anything, she needed to start with Dru.
Chapter 11
Breathe. Just breathe.
Dru repeated these words while he paced. He’d finished setting up the final parameters for his program a standard hour ago and had been waiting outside simulation room 1 for Daith to arrive. He didn’t want to get too excited, but if she really was Jaxx’s daughter...
Breathe. Just breathe. Breathe. Just—
Daith came around the corner and flashed him a smile. His nerves jolted and melted at the same time.
Dru motioned toward the door. “Shall we?” The two of them stepped into the empty white room.
“Computer,” Dru said, “activate program X-Dru-one.” The walls seemed to pull away from them and left black, empty space behind. Pinpoints of light poked through the blackness. Dru heard Daith gasp. The floor beneath them melted into the gaseous ring of a planet. Swirls of lavender and silver from the planet’s surface flickered across their faces.
“Sometimes I forget how realistic these simulations can be. And how beautiful,” Dru said. Daith’s dark green eyes absorbed her surroundings, hand held lightly against her chest, the colors dancing across her skin.
A flush crept throughout his body and Dru cleared his throat, surprised by his strong reaction to her beauty. He hadn’t felt such a physical response to someone since Riel. Physically they didn’t resemble each other at all, although they both had strong energy. Dru pushed the thoughts of his recent loss away, knowing he had to stay professional, and that pain would only distract him. “Ready to begin?”
Daith wrung her hands. “I suppose so.”
“This program is designed to interpret your brain-wave patterns. The computer will record those patterns through these,” he said, holding up two, small white pads. He secured them to her temples, brushing her hair off her forehead so the pads’ adhesive wouldn’t catch any stray strands. His skin tingled at the contact—the energy from her already strong and at the surface.
“Once we start,” Dru continued, “the computer will monitor and record your mental energy output. I will then ask you to do a series of five tasks. The simulation will change based on your responses.”
“I’m going to pretend I know what that means,” Daith said.
Dru patted her shoulder reassuringly. “Lie down and relax. If you ever feel uncomfortable, let me know and we’ll stop.”
Daith lay on the spongy surface. She let out a deep breath and stared up into the millions of simulated stars above her.
“I want you to clear your mind and focus on the stars. Let your thoughts float away into the blackness of space.” He waited a few moments. “Now, find one star and concentrate on it. Focus all your attention on this single star and make all of the rest of the stars fade away.”
Dru stared upward and watched the stars begin to vanish. As the program progressed, the computer would read more sensitive brain waves, calculating the strength of the individual. This would give Dru an idea of Daith’s mental capabilities and would show if she had a strong enough energy level to have psionic abilities.
A single star shone above them. Daith passed stage one.
“Good. Now bring the star closer to you.” He waited while the image of the star got larger and closer. She had passed stage two.
“Stop the star right there,” Dru told her. The star stopped moving. “Now, I need you to take one particle of the star and bring it toward you.” Dru’s breath quickened. He’d never worked with a patient who had ever gotten past the third stage. This would be the first indication she might indeed be Jacin Jaxx’s daughter.
*
Daith’s head vibrated with tension. Her whole body felt warm, feverish, as she concentrated on keeping a single star above her. Now she needed to remove a single particle from a gaseous pulsating ball of light?
Daith stared at the star, conflicted about what to do next. Droplets of sweat trickled down the sides of her face, tempting her to break her concentration and wipe them away. But she ignored the sensation.
I don’t know what a star is made of. Maybe if I could see it up close….
Daith’s perception split as her mind’s focus ripped in two. In one part she held onto the star, in the other, she felt detached, and a part of her consciousness pulled away from her toward the star. Startled by the ruptured reality, her mind clicked back together.
Curious, she tried again. This time she allowed the detached part of her to continue to float away. She felt her mind penetrate the star—tiny pinpoints of light suspended in empty space. Locking onto one of the particles, she pulled. The glowing spot floated toward her, slowly. She brought it back to her body.
“Pull the particle into your hand,” Dru’s voice told her.
Daith, barely able to hang on to the tiny piece, felt her mental concentration slip. The particle slid back toward the star, but she managed to reestablish her link. She concentrated her energy behind it to push, rather than pull. The particle came closer again. She focused and gave a huge push. It flew at her with incredible speed. She reached out and snatched at the air. The tiny dot glistened in her palm, like a grain of sand glinting in the sun. She sighed with relief. Sweat drenched her whole body. Pinprick goose bumps rose on her skin as the perspiration evaporated.
“For your final task,” he continued, sounding far away, “you must throw the particle back at the star. This will cause the star to explode.”
Daith studied the spot of light in her hand, small and powerless. It would never be able to destroy the star.
“No.”
“What?”
“No. I can’t do it.”
“Very well. I see you’re not strong enough to save us.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“That star is on a collision path with us. If we don’t destroy it, it will crash into our planet, killing millions. You were our last hope.”
Moisture beaded her face once more. Her insides quivered. “I’m holding the star in place,” she said, her voice trembling with uncertainty. “It won’t crash.”
“You can’t hold it there forever. Eventually, you will weaken and the star will continue toward us. The only way to save us is to extinguish the threat.”
Daith didn’t know what to do. Her body vibrated with the effort. She didn’t want to die, but throwing the particle at the star would resolve nothing. There must be another solution. Daith focused on her energy that held the star. If I can hold the star, then maybe I can destroy it. The energy grew. She felt warmth percolate inside her. Its heat overtook her, filling her insides, like her body was made of flame. Energy collected, growing stronger and hotter, searing her from within. The power burst forth from her. She propelled the built-up ball of energy into the star.
Her body arced into the air, contorted, all the energy rushing from her. Once drained, she slammed back onto the ground, and fell into darkness.
*
Dru ran to the motionless girl and felt for her pulse. A heartbeat, but faint. He rushe
d to the communications panel and called for a medical officer. He didn’t understand what had happened. The program should have shut down if Daith over-exerted herself.
The medical officer arrived. Her diamond-shaped eyes blinked in awe at the complex program before she placed Daith on a gravity-controlled stretcher and transported her to the medical wing. Dru followed on the medical officer’s heels, his face pale and sweaty, when the computer beeped to remind him his program still ran.
“Oh yes,” he muttered to himself. “I’ll be right there!” he called out to the officer. “Computer, end—” The star exploded.
His heart thumped loudly in his chest. Somehow, she had succeeded. But she’d still had the particle in her hand.
How could that be possible?
Dru let out a low whistle and flipped his hair from his face. His mind raced with the promise of what this could mean. Riel would have been amazed by these results. She would have known exactly what they meant, especially since she’d designed the program. But Dru needed the results compiled.
“Computer, end program and send data to my quarters,” he finished. Consumed with the implications of what he’d witnessed and thoughts of Riel, Dru left the simulation room and hurried to his office.
*
Dr. Ludd glanced up as the medical officer rushed in with Daith in tow.
“Cadet Milastow? What happened?” he demanded. He searched for Dru. “Where is Doctor Xiven?”
“I don’t know,” Milastow said. She peered behind him through the doors. “I thought he was following me.”
“No matter.” Dr. Ludd swung his bulbous belly around his desk, taking a moment to adjust his gravlift. “We need to get her stabilized.”
“She is stable, Doctor. Merely unconscious.”
“What?” Dr. Ludd checked her vitals. Everything seemed normal, except a high body temperature and that fact that she wouldn’t wake. “This doesn’t make sense. What did Doctor Xiven tell you happened?”
“He didn’t say. They were in the middle of a simulation. I don’t really know what they were doing. I assumed he’d fill you in when we got here.” Milastow’s head twisted and turned, expecting Dru to come marching into the room.
Eomix Galaxy Books: Illusion Page 7
