by Selina Brown
“You create your own castle walls and turrets?”
“Good analogy. And mostly we’ll climb the turrets to see over the walls but often not.”
Ara glanced at him and then asked, “Marc, will I cause the release of antimatter, killing billions?”
Shocked, Marc turned her so forcefully he saw he had frightened her at first. He gripped her shoulders. “No, no. Shit, Ara. You heard that from somewhere?”
“Ah, yeah.”
Marc couldn’t break through her barriers when he sensed she hedged. He was so distraught that Ara seemed to believe him. “You are connected somehow to the Cardinal Unit, and there is some purpose, but you are not and will never be responsible for killing people. That decision is not yours to make. How long have you worried about that?”
“Just a little bit.”
He hugged her tight. “Come on. Let’s go home.” He felt a strange buzz at the words “go home” and saw Ara’s eyes widen. “What was that?” he asked.
“Ah, I don’t know.”
Marc studied her for a moment before resuming their walk. Ara cheered up a little after their talk, and rode behind him on the way home with her head resting on his back. Marc missed Aven, his real sister, but they had been angry with each other for a long time. Mostly it was to do with Ara, but in Marc’s mind Aven’s hatred went deeper than their division over his charge. There was something else about Ara that Aven detested. He knew he should mention that to Jamie as well but Aven wouldn’t hurt Ara. Would she? Besides, Aven was working with them. Her programming was brilliant and she managed to keep Maya from seeing certain parts inside the Cardinal Unit. Jamie had benefited from Aven’s programming over the years too.
Marc saw the homestead ahead, and dropped Ara off. As he watched her climb the steps along the side of their home, he turned Whack around and rode to visit Jamie. He decided to tell Jamie, not about what happened between him and Aven, but that Aven hated Ara. What Jamie did with that was his business. But inside, Marc felt he was betraying Aven somehow. He gritted his teeth and nudged Whack into a trot.
Ara brushed her teeth as she thought of Marc and their talk. He seemed sad but she couldn’t get past his public mind. She wanted him to be able to talk to her like she could with him. Her mind and heart were a little easier now but it still disturbed her that somehow she was linked to genocide. Sleep came easily and she dreamed of Trickster that same night.
Aryan Dream – Le Planae
She was in a hot, sticky, wet jungle. Around her insects hummed and clicked. There was a buzzing all around her close to the ground. Trickster popped out from a dense population of tall palms sweat dripping down his smooth brown chest.
“Where are we?”
“A jungle habitat.” His feet were bare and he wore a cloth, covering his penis, attached to a leather thong tied around his waist.
Did he think she was stupid? “Why are you dressed like that—” she squealed as a large insect landed on her arm with razor sharp pinchers ready to dig into her flesh. She wildly shook her arm and jumped around.
He calmly brushed the green critter off and looked down at his clothes. “I’m Tuan, from the Hurun Clan.”
“What’s that?” she asked, trying to recover some dignity, and pointed to his axe, not really caring about his clan. He never seemed to mind her blunt and rude ways.
Trickster lifted it. “A tomahawk. I made it.” He straightened his arm and offered it to her.
Ara took it and was surprised it wasn’t heavy; she studied the dark metal and bindings. Sweat dripped down her back and the bindings were feeling sticky from the heat. She stared at the green insect heading for Trickster’s foot thinking to chop off its head.
“Come.” He turned and strode away.
“Wait!” She ran after him as he moved quickly and quietly through some bushy trees with trunks covered with moss. She had to climb over strange, thick, bright green vines that intertwined and looked like a weird snake. There were crawly things too that had made a home in the gaps in the vines. Everything smelled damp and water droplets fell from the leaves to land on her head. Ara complained loudly and stopped to pull a long caterpillar thing out of her hair.
“Come.” His voice was quiet but commanding as he disappeared into a thick mass of tangled trees, vines, and undergrowth.
She stamped her foot, squishing some bugs with her bare feet. The crunching noise and hot liquid moving through her toes made her squeal again. “Oooh! Trickster!”
His face appeared through the mass of green and he parted the bushes for her. Ara walked over to him, trying to drag her foot over the grassy ground to wipe off the gooey remains of the bug. She shoved herself through the foliage and past him into a clearing. There was a woven mat and blanket, a jug of water, tools near a fire pit, and two cups. Next to those was a long box of deep reds, with markings.
“Do you live here?” Her eyes locked on to the box.
“No.”
“What are you doing here then?” Ara knew her questions could get annoying and Trickster didn’t seem to like to talk, but he didn’t get annoyed either. She wanted to ask about the box but thought that might be rude.
“Hunting.”
“I don’t like hunting.” One of the kings on Saratoga was always hunting and Caleb liked to talk about it. She looked again at the weapon. The tomahawk blade was a dark red metal, the feather brown. Ara ran her fingers along the feather. “Is this from your wings?”
“Yes.”
She handed back his tomahawk and, even though she liked the roping texture around the handle, the feather, and the dark metal, she didn’t want to say that. She hoped Trickster didn’t mention the green insect she had considered beheading.
He laid it on the blanket and sat cross-legged near the water; he poured some water into a dark earthen cup and offered it to her.
Ara took it and drank, the cool, sweet taste pleasing. “I like this!”
“It’s water from the stream, and a fruit called ‘Ogola’.”
She nodded wisely and sat in front of him. They sat quietly listening as the birds began to call to each other again, and rustles in the dense foliage told her beasts were roving around once more.
She looked at the box. “What’s in there?”
“Quadrazaads.” His eyes suddenly locked on to hers and they became very alert. “They are Chaos Seeds. Would you like to see them?
“Yes, please.” She was proud of her politeness.
He knelt before the box, and she joined him. As he opened it, Ara saw four large, egg like sacs evenly placed in the box. Each lay on a nest of something brown … feathers! Trickster waved his hand over them and they all pulsed different colors. One reacted more.
“That one likes you.” She giggled at his expression.
“It is “Sulture” and is older. The magma inside the little chamber can be released and flow as lava to form whatever I want.”
“Can you show me?”
“Not yet. They are too small.” He eased back slightly. “Your turn, Ara. Wave your hand over them.”
Excitement filled her and she tried not to jump around. One, because she was nine now, and two, she might spill water-juice over them. Trickster took her cup and moved to the side so she could kneel. As she moved her hand over them, only one pulsed and she was disappointed, secretly hoping they would all pulse to show Trickster she was very important being a Pure-Gen. But she wasn’t important here it seemed. Ara sucked in her lips and looked at Trickster to see if he was disappointed too.
But he met her eyes and nodded. “That’s the “Strike”.”
“The Strike?” she looked back. “Is it more important than the”—it would be rude to say “Sulture” so she said— “others?”
“They are all important. All four.”
Neither his tone nor the expression on his face was chastising her so Ara nodded. “Oh.” She raised her hand to touch it and quickly snatched her hand away.
“You may touch it.”
&
nbsp; Ara leaned over and carefully touched the sac, which felt leathery but soft, it was warm. Inside she could see sparks and flickers of energy. “Energy?”
“Pure energy.” He pointed to the first one. “That is Strike. The next—”
“Sulture.”
He nodded. “The next is “Stagger”, and then there is the “Sturm”.”
Ara studied them all, pointing as she went. “If that’s magma, and mine … I mean that one is energy, what’s Stagger and Sturm?”
“Stagger is fire and ice, and Sturm is wind, thunder, lightning and rain.”
“Hmmmm.” Ara blinked, trying to fight sleep now.
“Lay down and sleep now, Ara Katron.”
He placed the long, wooden lid over the Quadrazaads.
“I like the box too.” She tried to stifle a yawn.
“I made it.” Trickster sat up and pointed to the blanket.
She looked behind her to avoid the tomahawk and lay down looking up through the thick canopy of green. The skies were greenish blue and it was so hot! As she dozed Ara heard a pleasant voice singing her to sleep.
Homestead
The next morning Mum complained.
“Ara Katron, where have you been?” Pen was moving around her room picking up the quilt that she’d shoved off her hot skin in the night.
“Jungle.” She said sleepily, rubbing the grit out of her eyes and sitting up, staring down at her dirty feet. She bent her leg up seeing the remains of the bug on the ball and heel of her foot. “Sorry, Mum. I’ll clean it up.”
“Yes you will, young lady. I don’t want you running around the farm at night. Honestly!”
The quilt was dumped on her bed and Mum thumped out to start yelling at Marc next.
“You are older, Marc! I shouldn’t have to be waking you too…”
Ara fell back onto her pillow and smiled.
Marc sighed hearing Mum yell. Jamie hadn’t detected him follow Ara but he was sure Trickster had. They had agreed not to change their behavior in regards to Ara’s dreams so as not to worry her. Marc thought Mum and Dad found it too easy to act the maggoty parents. He wanted to ask Aven why he could follow Ara’s dreams but he didn’t want to start up another argument. There really wasn’t anyone else to ask either that he trusted. And those Quadrazaads! Amazing. Over the years, he’d been linking with Ara’s mind, but there was more than that. He always knew, no, he always felt when Ara connected to Maya. Why would he feel that connection? But when the Strike had reacted to her, Marc felt a surge of energy through him too. Was it because he was an Aether Being? But Trickster called them Chaos Seeds. Was Chaos like Aether energy and matter? He didn’t think so and decided to try to do some research on Chaos.
Sub-Log XII
A couple of years later, Marc went upstairs from the garage and poked his head inside Mum and Dad’s tidy office. They weren’t there but he entered, closed the door, walked over to the comms, and tapped Jamie’s private number. It took a moment and then a voice behind him said, “Well, shit. She knows.”
Marc grinned and ended the call. Ara had come back from a visit to Caleb’s knowing that her guard and Marc were spying on her mind and dreams. “What was the trigger?”
“Don’t you know?” Jamie walked over to the closest chair and sat down. He raised a leg and rested his ankle on his knee.
Marc tried to look at something other than Jamie. The long bench with stacks of contracts, tablets, and family pictures along the wall behind Jamie was a good start. “Comments made from family members, things she and Caleb talked about.”
Jamie rubbed his head. “She’s too smart for her own good.”
Marc sat down in the chair opposite the one Jamie was in and mimicked his body language. “What do we do?”
“Nothing. You might ask Aven why Maya is sending Ara logs about the matter levels but I see by your expression you don’t like that idea.”
It was bad enough that Ara felt pressure about being a Pure-Gen Mobile Unit, especially when she’d been fabricated over nine hundred years after the last Pure-Gen, and now her link to matter levels rising in Iota? Poor kid. Marc squashed the suspicion that Aven might be nasty enough to send those logs so that Ara did fret. “She’ll be watching for us in her mind now.”
“Us?”
“Damn!” Marc was too embarrassed to meet Jamie’s amused look. He tapped at the desk on his right, pretending to flick something off. “You know?”
“Believe it or not, technology seems to work better when monitoring and tracking Ara.”
“That’s odd.” Marc recovered a little. “Feel like sharing?”
It was Jamie’s turn to turn red. “I only seem to mess up with you.”
They both fell silent now.
Marc turned his mind back to the real worry. “She’s connected somehow to the genocide cycle.”
Jamie gave a slight nod. “Either someone is forcing matter levels to rise to trigger genocide or they are doing it for other reasons and matter rising is a side effect that they accept and will deal with later. Welcome to the mission, by the way.”
Marc’s jaw dropped with the realization that his role was about to expand and then he was disappointed. “You didn’t fuck up then?”
Jamie leaned forward with a thoughtful expression on his rugged face. The dark eyes locked on to his. “I didn’t. But I wasn’t supposed to inform you until next week.”
“Ah.” Marc leaned forward while his heart pounded. “Thank you for telling me.”
When Jamie leaned back, he sighed loudly. “We can’t do this, Marc.” He spread out his strong fingers. “I can’t do this for the very reason you thought I’d fucked up. And then there’s your legal Aryan age. Because, if I let myself have feelings for you, I will have to leave the mission.”
Marc nodded and said quietly, “Ara needs you more than I do. I’m glad the air is clear between us.”
“Me too.” Jamie stood. “Now, pack your bags. We have to go to Perza Space Station and fill you in.”
Excitement filled Marc. Once he had settled on Saratoga, he’d been worried he’d be forgotten, especially since he couldn’t do much with the Three Empires and Grands issue. He was an operative but had been shunted to family care rather than the protective detail. He had tried not to let it get to him, but Jamie had picked up on his discontent.
Jamie smiled. “You are welcome. You need to work on guarding your thoughts more.”
“I’m out of practice.”
They both knew the real reason why but Marc knew Jamie had made the right choice in regards to a relationship between them. They had a mission to run and it was easier to focus without getting involved.
“So, what’s the first order of business?”
“Getting bags packed.”
Marc opened the door. “Right.”
***
Upon Marc’s return from being sworn in, he attended Tricia’s Virgo. The ritual was kept in the traditional style held by Pure-Gens. Tricia thought it might help Ara understand more of her heritage. It distressed him more than he could bear. It made him realize how much he loved her. And then Ara’s reaction to the whole ritual and witty comments had eased his heart and mind. But then Tricia’s Virgo partner, Ike, made horrific statements to Ara that crushed her gentle heart at the reception and, as if that wasn’t bad enough, Ike had followed Ara and Ersen into town to sexually assault her.
Ersen had taken care of the Avatara male and all Ara could seem to talk about was how brave Ersen was, and not about how bad Ike had been. She had also been more worried about Tricia than herself and said, “It’s okay, Marc. I wasn’t in any real danger.” She was too blasé about her safety and knowledge that her guards would save her. And that left him and Jamie to discuss measures to try to raise her self-awareness.
As he headed to his room, he heard Ara yelling at someone downstairs. Then he heard Dad yell back. Soon, he saw Ashley, Henry and Ara stomp up the stairs. Dad was behind them, shooing them up.
“Ara?” M
arc asked.
“Huh?” She had a dazed look to her face. Marc’s light connection to her implant shocked him. She received a CU log.
CARDINAL Unit 9 (CU) Cycle and Logs
Reporting on MONITOR Mobile Unit
1117317627853872
MONITOR returning to date 0.99% feasible data
COLLATE data
COMPARE data
End check
And now Maya was fogging her brain. That was odd and again he worried that it was Aven. How many times had the fogging happened? Ara, at times, seemed younger than her eleven years of age while at other times she seemed much older. He had to tell Jamie.
“…clothes shopping, you three need new—”
“Do I have to?” They all whined at the same time, breaking into giggles while looking at each other.
But Terance’s dark eyes narrowed. “Yes. You’ve got five minutes, now go.”
“What about fish, chip, and movie night?” Henry asked.
“We’re still having our special family night when we get home. Four minutes.”
Ten-year-old Ashley, nine-year-old Henry, and Ara stomped to their rooms. Ara flashed Marc a large smile before disappearing into her room. Ashley and Henry ran past him and whispered to each other about how they might be able to go to the beach too. Dad rolled his eyes and headed back down the stairs.
Ashley bolted back to Ara’s room. “Wear your bathers.” He ran past Marc again.
Marc stepped quickly up to Ara’s door. “Are you okay?”
Her arms were bruised badly. “I’m okay. Good trip?”
“It was okay.”
“Good.”
It was one of those “Ara” conversations where if she didn’t want to talk, most gave up, while other times you couldn’t shut her up. Since Ara dug through her drawers and grumbled about something, he left her to it.
