by C. C. Ekeke
Jhori looked at her sharply, surprised and disapproving. What stopped you?
“I have a family,” the teenager answered, looking up. Thinking of Sam, Jeremy, Habraum, and Lethe, her blended family, warmed Tharydane’s heart. “And AS IF Samantha would let me.”
Hushed laughter shook Jhori’s wiry frame. And their community remains secret for obvious reasons.
Tharyn folded her arms and nodded in agreement. “I’ve lived somewhere shut off from the rest of the universe. I’m not interested in that again.” She looked back at Thaenys holding court among the Korvenite younglings. Her heart cracked open wider. Sweet Korvan, she had missed connecting with her own species, especially knowing that every Korvenite in this facility could access Korvan’s gifts.
For the first time in months, Tharyn felt whole again. “If I’m ever part of a community where Korvenites live with non-Korvenites, I won’t hide.”
Jhori scratched the back of his buzzed hair, looking doubtful. From what I hear, that’s still a far-off goal.
Tharyn scowled. “I know.” She needed no reminder of how Bogosian’s proposal for a Korvenite-inhabited planet recently failed. “But some day, I hope that goal becomes a reality.”
The classroom entrance slid open, and Sam strolled in wearing a megawatt smile. She’d switched from her field uniform to army-green cargos and a grey long-sleeve tee, messy waves of beachy blonde spilling down her shoulders. “Hey, you.” She winked at Tharyn and pinched her sides, then turned to the youngsters, arms spread wide. “Hey kids!”
The children turned, and to Tharyn’s surprise shrieked excitedly. Their joy at a human’s presence thundered through the room audibly and telepathically, to where Tharyn had to withdraw her openness to their emotions. The entire class got up, swarming Sam with hugs and greetings.
Five macroms later, the beleaguered Kudoban teacher finally settled her students down. With that, Sam, Tharyn, and Jhori took their leave.
The rolling plains in this parcel of the Calliste living station were empty, as the residents were either in school or at their assigned jobs.
“Those children love you,” Tharyn acknowledged, still shocked as they strolled outside, bathed in sunlight through the artificial atmosphere.
“See this face?” Sam pointed at her face with that distinctive lopsided grin. “Totally loveable.”
Tharyn laughed, and then gave her adoptive mother a closer look. “You okay?”
Sam’s frown barely dimmed her grin. “Yeah. Why?”
“Don’t know,” Tharyn replied. Sam appeared flushed, and a bit…breathless. “You seem…exerted.”
“I’m nine out of ten, kid.” She pulled the Korvenite into an affectionate side hug. “We got two stops on Terra Sollus before heading home.”
Home. Knowing she had one filled Tharyn with joy.
Sam gave Jhori a meaningful look. “Thanks for everything. I’ll be in touch.” He nodded. Whatever his telepathic reply was remained between him and Sam.
As mother and daughter headed for a nearby exit, Sam began speaking boisterously about something. Tharyn nodded and smiled, her mind elsewhere. The Korvenite mostly felt relief to go home to Hollus and see little Jeremy again!
Still, Tharyn could not shake a nagging suspicion burrowed in her skull. Hey, she spoke telepathically to Jhori. What do Sam and Bogosian meet about?
She felt Jhori’s stark surprise before he replied. She advises him on his initiative to help us Korvenites attaining a new homeworld.
Tharyn made a face. She already knew that. Maybe the teen was being paranoid. Better to let this dumb suspicion go. As she entered a translifter with Sam, Jhori called out again. Don’t let this be the last time you visit.
Tharyn smiled as the translifter doors shut. It won’t.
Chapter 53
Morning slowly roused Kyoshiro city-state in Terra Sollus’s Honshu nation. Warm, golden rays bathed the megapolis’s crisscrossing veins of hovercar traffic and the bizarrely shaped starscrapers poking into the heavens. Many of these structures displayed equally dwarfing holo advertisements. Some ads covered at least one partial or full-length side of these buildings; others moved and danced in amusing ways totally separate from the structure.
Sam found him at a tiny Astro-gastro pub tucked away in northern Kyoshiro. The establishment was nearly empty. He sat alone at the bar, hunched over while nursing his drink.
Steeling herself for a hostile reception, Sam exhaled and sauntered up to his barstool. “Day drinking?” she snarked. “Where’s my invite?”
D’Sake jolted in shock, then leaned forward. The blue eyes on both sides of the Monaskoan’s head went overly wide to confirm it was her. His body’s constant shivers told Sam that he’d downed a few.
“You…” D’Sake seethed, sipping his drink. “Have some daring appearing…how did you locate me?”
“Why so furious?” Sam cocked her head to one side, feigning ignorance. “Trouble at work?”
“Trouble?” The Monaskoan clutched his drink so intensely, Sam thought he might break it. “As in getting interrogated over ten orvs for illegally slicing a UniPol server I’d never heard of. Then yes, work has been exasperating the last two days.”
“Ooph.” Sam pursed her lips, sliding into the barstool beside him. “Sounds unpleasant.”
“Even though they finally proved I didn’t access that server,” D’Sake stared ahead with wide, furious eyes. His shoulders heaved up and slowly down, up and slowly down. “They demoted me to archiving twenty-second-century databanks along a two-month probation for being so sloppy with my security.”
He glared at Sam, disbelieving and angry. “You used me.”
“Yeah, I did,” Sam admitted with a shameless shrug, trying not to laugh. His anger was adorable.
D’Sake turned away again. “Clearly that Children of Earth facility raid and the arrested UniPol official was you. Hope you and the ISA got everything you wanted, Sierra. You and I are done—”
Sam snatched the drink from his hand, placing it on the countertop. She’d let D’Sake vent. Time for some truth. “Before you say anything regrettable in your drunken state, here’s what’s gonna happen.” Sam leaned in with a husky whisper. “In the next orv, you’ll receive a glowing call from your superiors. By week’s end, maybe sooner, you’ll get a huge promotion with even higher security clearance.”
The Monaskoan gaped as if never seeing a human before. “And how will that happen?”
Sam grinned impishly. “A big data package in your private WIBA account, the first of many you’ll receive. Your boss also received a copy not five macroms ago from you.” Actually, Addison sent the package as D’Sake, but details weren’t pertinent. She patted him stiffly on the cheek. “Read it somewhere secure before you hear from him.”
These ongoing data drops from Europa Hanson, per Jhori’s telepathic command, included all kinds of juicy info on CoE operations.
Sam rose from her barstool as the Monaskoan gaped. “Congratulations, D’Sake. I’m about to make you a superstar.” She snatched up his glass, drained it in two gulps, and nearly gagged. The thick liquor worked down her throat like cold, slimy worms. A Monaskoan drink, obviously.
“Christ,” she grimaced, slamming down the empty glass. “No wonder you’re in a shitty mood.” Sam flashed him a parting smile before sauntering her way out of the Astro-gastro pub.
***
When Sam returned to her Shadowlancer, Tharydane had changed into a fresh green scoop-neck yellow collared and short-sleeved with dark denims. The teen also wore her favorite long coat which Sam had brought along, deep azure wool with an explosively frilly white collar.
“Was that the last errand?” Tharydane asked, tossing aside long and lazy violet curls that reached near her waist.
“Yep!” Sam exclaimed, sliding into the pilot’s seat beside the Korvenite. She slipped on a black bubble down vest. Their destination would be quite cold, even for her. “Now, we’re off to today’s last stop.”
&nb
sp; “Thank Korvan.” Tharyn smiled but looked exhausted. Sam ignored the flinch of worry over the teen’s reaction to her surprise. She would enjoy this.
Most of the flight from Kyoshiro was silent. Sam didn’t want to push too much. Tharyn could still be in shock. Further pressure could be too much.
After twenty macroms, the dazzling Carolinian peninsula on the coast of Navarre appeared. Tharyn was enthralled by the round white beaches against vibrant blue oceans. After a few moments, she frowned. “Wait.” The Korvenite turned to her adoptive mother, visibly confused and upset. “Why did we come back?” Her reaction was reasonable, given their disastrous lunch in Santurce a few days ago.
“Because,” Sam replied calmly, “what I wanted to show you after that lunch is several miles that way.” She gestured past the coast. Tharyn followed her gaze and jolted in her seat. “Sweet Yvyria!”
Nestled in Navarre’s interior were The Winehorns, a dark-red mountain range stretching on for twenty-three square miles. Many of its impregnable summits jutted through blankets of cotton-candy clouds. Under the right angle of light at sunset, these peaks turned a deep burgundy not unlike red wine.
Tharyn kept looking from Sam to the looming mountains and back. “What’s up there?”
Sam answered with a lopsided grin. “You’ll see.”
“Oh c’mon!” Tharyn complained.
“Trust me, kid.” Sam winked. “You’ll love this.” Before long, the mountains dominated their entire viewscreen. Tharyn was entranced, as expected. She hasn’t even seen the best part. Sam grinned, secretly pleased. After weaving through the mountain range and its bizarrely weathered cliff faces, Sam took them through a patch of fluffy mists and climbed up. Breaking through the clouds, there it was.
Tharydane squealed. A sprawling ancient city, packed tightly between three close-set mountains. The metropolis was walled and circular at the foundation, adobe crimson and grey in colors, married perfectly into the mountains. The spires of the larger buildings held meticulous craftsmanship despite age and neglect. In the city’s epicenter, its principal and most finely crafted construction loomed like a small peak over every other structure. From when she first visited a year ago, Sam knew this circular fortress was a religious temple despite its finely crafted spires and weapons turrets. The rising sun burned away the mist obscuring a crystal-clear lake far below, encircling the base of these peaks.
Sam took them down toward the main bridge connecting the city to another massive mountain—the Bridge of Thieges, it was called. Each side of the bridge was flanked by four giant humanoid sculptures, partially hooded and kneeling. Beyond the gated entrance to the city, one more colossal humanoid stood atop the temple. Its hood thrown back, the sculpture raised both arms in praise to amber-stained heavens. Sam kept glancing at Tharyn, anxious for her reaction.
“Those…” the teenager barely got the words out. “Those Korvenite sculptures are the nine thieges, the highest llyriacs anointed by Korvan himself.” She turned to Sam, astounded. “What is this place?”
Sam beamed while landing the Shadowlancer at the foot of the bridge. “I’m assuming you’ve heard the stories about the nine Korvenite Holy Cities scattered across Terra Sollus?”
“The Nine Yvenei?” Tharyn stared at her sideways, as teens did when asked an obvious question. “Of course. But they were all destroyed centuries ago.”
“Not this one.” Sam shook her head, tousling her wavy blonde locks. “It was rediscovered years ago. And despite what’s occurred with Korvenites, an executive order by a past Chouncilor turned this into an interplanetary monument.” The main temple was dwarfed only by the mountains surrounding it, yet Sam felt more intimidated by that than the peaks.
Tharyn whipped her head toward the Korvenite sculptures and the gate ahead. “Which city is this?”
“Yven Threya,” Sam answered, soaking in every moment of Tharyn’s enjoyment. “Wanna look around?”
The Korvenite answered with an empathic “yes.”
The duo hopped out of their shuttle to explore Yven Threya’s honeycomb of tunnels, secret entrances, passageways, and sprawling plazas. Tharyn was like a little kid, wide-eyed with breathless excitement as they found another chamber covered in ancient Korcei lettering or gazed upon apartments embedded into red cliff faces.
A few orvs later, Sam and Tharyn sat with their feet dangling over the top of the temple. Behind them were the feet of the gargantuan Korvenite praising the heavens. Rhyne beamed from the sky’s zenith, signaling late morning. Neither spoke, content on listening to the mountain air whistling through jagged red pinnacles. Sam watched Tharyn digest another piece of her culture so ecstatically, the human almost didn’t want to interrupt.
But Sam knew tours of living stations and ancient cities weren’t enough to heal their relationship.
“Soooo.” She leaned forward, pushing butter-blonde curtains from her face. “What do you want to know?”
“About Yven Threya?” Tharydane asked, her eyes glued on the city below.
Sam’s instincts told her to say yes. She ignored them. “About me.”
The Korvenite turned her head so slowly, Sam thought it might creak. The teen’s mouth was a hard line of distrust. “You’re serious?”
“Like a major coronary.” Sam nodded and straightened in her seat.
“I have no idea what that means, but I’m guessing you are serious.” Tharydane’s expression brightened after some contemplation. “What is your middle name?”
Sam made a wincing face. Such a simple question didn’t have a simple answer. “It’s complicated…”
Tharyn rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Really?”
Sam’s upraised hand stayed Tharyn’s frustration. “Hold on.” She chewed on how to reply without being too vague or detailed, then just shot straight. “My first name isn’t really Samantha. It’s Domenica.”
Tharyn studied her with doubtful eyes. “Why did you change it?”
“Professional reasons,” Sam offered, which was true. The rest of that iceberg wasn’t somewhere she needed to revisit yet.
“Domenica’s alright,” Tharyn confessed. “But you look more like a Samantha.”
Sam’s laugh echoed across Yven Threya’s empty streets. “Totally agree.”
After that, the floodgates opened, with Tharyn unleashing a tsunami of questions, wanting to know everything. Did Sam had siblings? “Two.”
What university did she attend and why? “Wellington University. It was near home.”
How many worlds had she visited? “Between fifteen and twenty.”
Why did she own so many kurthon hoodies? “They’re übercomfy.”
Tharyn’s questions, while pretty basic, still sent nervous energy buzzing through Sam’s veins. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d opened up like this. Except with Habraum….
Thinking of him scorched through Sam. She blinked and shook it off, maintain her beaming mask.
“Are you earthborn human?” Tharyn inquired, eyes locked on Sam. “You don’t use many of the swear words or phrases Terra Sollans do.”
Sam stared, tucking fluttering locks behind her ears. This girl was very observant. “Yeah, I’m from Earth.”
“Did you actually live on Earth?”
“Until I was eight,” Sam replied, crisscrossing her dangling feet. She didn’t think much about Old Earth, a mostly polluted dump long before becoming a scorched wasteland. But when Sam did, she recalled her early childhood growing up in Italy’s lush Tuscany region. Or those humid yet heavenly summers bouncing between both sides of her late mother’s family in Argentina and Ecuador. That life was light-years in her past. Yet still Sam sometimes got misty-eyed for those simple, naïve times. But no need to crack that open yet. “Six months before the Earth Holocaust, my parents moved us to a Terra Sollan city-state named Quinchester. That’s when I started losing my accent.”
Tharyn gasped and scooted closer to her adopted mother. “You used to have an accent??” She looked rea
dy to press further, then changed her mind. “OOH. I have another good one,” she spoke in an excited rush, much to Sam’s amusement. “Why are you so pro-Korvenite?”
Sam answered this without hesitation. “Until university, I was kinda anti-Korvenite,” she stated, watching Tharyn closely. “Like many earthborn.”
“Oh.” Tharyn’s voice softened. Her expression was not upset or shocked. Just...closed. “What changed?”
Sam smiled. A fair question. Her mind wandered back almost two decades to when she first heard the vibrato strumming of a halaika string instrument. “The summer after my first year of university, I took a trip to the Libratta systems for a few weeks. I met a Korvenite couple, the female was a thaoque dancer like you. Her husband played the halaika music. First time I’d seen Korvenites as anything besides the monsters all the news streams had painted them as.”
Sam stared off at nothing, overcome by reverie. “I was so drawn to them, their passionate life they’d carved out for themselves. I ended up staying with them for two months.” Her cheeks warmed admitting that. “Almost didn’t leave.”
That experience had changed every aspect of what she believed and how she viewed the universe, just like her mother’s death.
Sam took Tharyn by the chin. “You aren’t some publicity stunt. Lethe and I adopted you because we wanted you in our lives.” She kissed the Korvenite’s forehead.
Tharyn glanced away and smiled. “What did you do before Star Brigade?”
“I worked in intelligence,” Sam answered without further details. Anything more would lead to what those six years had cost. She stared at her hands, watched them glow with intense heat. A parting gift from that past life. She cooled them down with a thought, clenching and unclenching her fingers.
Tharydane’s next question interrupted the pause in conversation. “Is that how you got your powers?”
Sam turned and stared. Damn, this kid’s observant. She nodded faintly, willing herself not to recall that past existence. Tharyn looked ready to inquire further.
