by Selina Brown
“Like Gralten?”
She nodded, yawning. “Remember the next day I slept all day?”
“I do. Do you know who it was?”
“No. Can’t I sleep?”
“Yes, but eat first. I’ll bring it to you.”
Ara’s felt her face contort, trying not to look too pleased, but Mum just laughed. “Enjoy it while you can.”
Ara stared at herself in the mirror. “Ugh, hag from hell.” There were deep bags under her eyes and her hair was lank. “Back to bed I think. But shower first.” Ara looked forward to the anticipation of enjoying the hot water run down her body and remembering Trickster’s eyes on her made her hot with embarrassment. But when she stepped in she gasped and squealed each time a new nick, cut or scratch was found. Disgruntled, she turned the shower off. Ara was careful to pat dry her skin, and picked soft summer shorts and a tank top to wear as bedclothes.
After breakfast she headed back to the bedroom. “Great.” The bedsheets were dirty but Mum was one step ahead and came in with a bundle of clean bedding.
Back in bed, Ara tried to fight sleep but sunk quickly.
The next morning, Marc knocked and came in at her “Enter.” He was on holiday. Ara struggled to sit up.
“Still in bed I see.” He started laughing. “You went to bed with wet hair again.”
She grumbled and touched her head. It was a mass of frizz and knots. Pen came in with a glass of something fizzy in a glass, and sighed. “Honestly, Ara.”
Marc waggled his finger at her. “If you can’t already smell it, Mum’s made chocolate cake.”
It took Pen an hour sitting by the fire, listening to the storm outside, to get all the knots out. Her arms came around, pulling her thick bed coat around her, and Pen kissed her on the cheek. “One more rest day, the doctor says, and then back to school, young lady. But I say an extra day because I know you better.”
“Thanks, Mum.”
Marc joined Ara on the thick carpeted floor, slid another slice from his plate to hers, and they enjoyed some stormy entertainment. Marc then told them about work, and how he was now permitted to enter the dimensions used in HaV to begin mapping.
“All three dimensions?”
“One day, but I’m starting in Klados. There’s a shit load of matter there—”
“Marc!”
“Sorry, Mum. But there is.”
Pen went over to the bookshelf on the wall behind Ara.
Marc leaned closer to Ara. “There’s some species, the Eighth Race, who use matter to make—” he glanced at Pen who was distracted “—all kinds of shit.”
“What kinds of—” she looked but Mum was back “—things do they make?”
“They can make new plants, animals, things, whatever.”
“Without Maya things have to be fabricated in the Cardinal Unit don’t they?”
He gave her a strange look. “Not really, not the lower unit matter stuff.”
Mum got up, picked up their empty cups and plates and headed to the kitchen.
“Who are they?” Ara yawned again and put a hand over her mouth.
“Don’t know, they’re pretty secretive.” He patted his lap. “Lie down, the storm is picking up.”
Ara lay on the floor near the fire as Marc stroked her head. They watched the storm build and rain pelt down for hours. Ara resented Trickster’s intrusion in her life. With the few days off she had coming up she wanted to go for rides with Marc because they had grown apart a little over the last five years. He was upset over something but wouldn’t tell her what and that pained her.
“It’s not you,” he said softly.
“Then what or who? Aven?”
“Sort of. Aven is going to be working in closer with your protection detail.” He glanced to see where Mum was. She was still in the kitchen but soon headed to her workroom.
“Isn’t that good for you?”
He didn’t answer her and she stared at him from her position on his lap. “You’re worried about me. Why?”
“Just be on your guard, Ara. I don’t trust Aven.”
‘Oh.” Ara felt his anger now, and his hurt. She didn’t know Aven so how could she be on her guard? Some of what that woman guard said now made a little sense. “Why did you go farther away then?” She hurt over that but quickly said, “I don’t feel you’ve abandoned me, it’s just that I want to help. I have a feeling you thought that being away might be better or you were fighting something.”
He stroked her head. “The first idea. I thought by being away your security detail would forget something. But it’s all sorted now.”
Ara relaxed again, but jumped a little when a crack of thunder made the homestead vibrate. She grinned and looked at Marc seeing him grinning as well.
Mountain Installation
Jamie wasn’t happy.
He was in his small, plain office after hearing from Trickster. Ara was drained. Both Trickster and Marc reported similar responses in different scenarios. She was willing to forgo safety and comply without asking too many questions. Emergencies shut her down rather than woke her up. She was more concerned with others in normal life, but in Marc’s case, when he went and stayed away, she had been too afraid to find out why he had gone. Marc had forced his way back, telling Jamie to give it up. Ara was who she was, and they had to work with what they had. Jesran had agreed and now become his last hope in helping Ara shift her perspective. He hated not being in control.
He almost threw down an EBrain still displaying a message from Simon. Jamie had asked about Ara refusing to be a part of whatever game was afoot but Simon told him the Maya had instructions Ara was to do as instructed. Unable to constrain himself, he called Simon.
“And who told you about the instructions? Aven?”
‘She found them, yes. Bringing in Aven was your idea, Jamie.”
“Well, I want her out.”
Simon was silent. “It’s your choice but there is another way. Bring her closer.”
Jamie considered this and then muttered darkly, “I hate when my counterarguments come back to haunt me.”
Simon chuckled. “You weren’t wrong. To truly protect Ara, you will need to know all the players and know the game plan. You will need to make the cheats. Are you still in?”
“Why ask me that when you already know the answer? I’m still in and will protect her.”
“Just remember, war games come in all shapes and sizes. Have a think about your own weakness.”
For some reason that always angered him but Simon was right. “Psychological.” Damn the military. He had never told them about Leanne’s use of the implants against him. But they knew. “Why aren’t I in the regular military?”
“Because of where you come from.”
Jamie’s eyes narrowed at that sly comment. After he said goodbye to Simon, he strode up the narrow passages to his cabin. After sealing the hatch in the storeroom and checking the door was concealed, he took up a low calorie beer and drank while pacing around his rooms. The storm was just passing over Ara’s homestead and heading for Saratoga City. He stared at the beaded bottle and put it down; he returned to the cooler, picking out a normal beer. Marc laughed at him when on the “heavy” stuff. He was sure Simon wasn’t referring to his deep cover, just his experience with Leanne. Jamie had held so tightly to his true origins of being “Solaris” he almost felt like an Aryan Avatara. And he was an Avatara, just not an Aryan one. It seemed odd to him at first thinking of how there were so many species in the worlds but that they were repeated in different systems. Aryans, Vakar, Kavakar, Three Empires and Grands that consisted of the Energy, Dark, and Antimatter Beings, and they all made groups of three. Now, in their Triad systems it made sense. What didn’t make sense were the Chaos Beings they knew little about and Marc struggled to find any data on them. But Jamie could see they were all converging on one person, Ara. And he was right there next to her. Good thing he had all that training with powerful females.
“She must be the most im
portant person in the world.”
“No, Jamie. She is not.”
Jamie spun around, not having heard Trickster approach. He peered at the male dressed in Tuan clothing, and not much of it. Trickster barely looked at him as he walked over to join him staring out of the window towards Ara’s home.
“Nyx is the most important person in the world. She is the only one holding back the Chaos Empire from destroying trillions of lives. But Ara is the Vanguard.”
Jamie considered this but before he could form any additional questions or thoughts, Trickster carried on.
“Even if Nyx succeeds in her mission and continues to support Monad’s Old Technological Regime it will all be for naught if Ara can’t get us all home.”
“I don’t understand what that means.”
“You will, and soon. Have patience, my friend. Keep my secret for some time and I will keep yours.”
Jamie grumbled his agreement. “Doesn’t it still make Ara the most important person?”
“No.” Trickster lifted Jamie’s low calorie bottle to his lips and sipped it with pleasure. “If Nyx discontinues her support of Monad, and supports the Chaos Empire, it won’t matter if Ara fulfills her role.”
“Ah. I see.” Sort of. “What is the Safeguard?”
“I cannot say yet. If Tartarus changes sides then nothing changes. Chaos will try to reign still. Nyx needs the Vanguard prepared for anything.”
“The Function Tests?”
Trickster nodded. “I can’t track the Natal or find their base of operations. It has to be in Iota though.”
Jamie nodded. He had learned on Perza Space Station, from the Snakes, that Ara would be subjected to nine Function Tests. Being a Vanguard for Nyx—supposedly the most important person—explained why Ara was going to be tested. The Vanguard wasn’t about making decisions, it was about being ready and getting everyone home, just in case. Poor Ara. “Wait, are you saying you want me to search?”
Trickster shrugged. “The Function Tests will expose Ara to more danger and that is why you were chosen for the role as Sentinel. I ensured the Aryan Military did not detect the damage to your neural implant when you were a child. I needed you.”
“Huh?” Jamie’s mind refused to work. Trickster seemed to be saying he had prevented the most secret organization in Aryan Space from finding out what Leanne had done to his neural pathways. Jamie had thought he’d dealt with that!
“I chose you, Jamie. I programmed the Cardinal Unit and chose you to become the Sentinel while still in Lekas Milo.”
“But why? I was … um—”
“I know.” The brown eyes were sympathetic. “Your Sawol, Jamie. Your Sawol is a match to Ara’s.”
He cursed. “That makes it more dangerous, a weakness.”
“Only from your perspective.”
Damn it. Trickster was trying to nudge Jamie’s perspective even while Jamie was trying to nudge Ara’s. He had to take his own medicine to help her. “Alright, what’s the first step?”
“You already took it.”
Jamie nodded. It was the step Ara needed to make, recognize and be willing to open her mind. “Why didn’t you fix my implant?”
“That is not within my mission parameters.”
Great.
Sub-Log XVI
At sixty years old, Ara was well into her skills training.
She noticed Kavela more over the years—Caleb called him “the old fogey”—as her interest in engineering grew. Caleb had introduced her because Kavela was interested in Caleb’s abilities with design and spatial anomalies. Kavela was always so polite to her, and she had to admit to a little flushing at his attention. He was rather dashing even though he had a bald head. His tattoos were very interesting but he only tolerated her as one might tolerate the very young, or a gnat.
Over the years, Ara made several new friends, another Sarington, two princes, a princess, a farmer type named Jesran who was an Avatara Modernus, another programmer, and an artist named Marlin. At first, she had been worried Jesran might be like Ike, but time revealed he wasn’t anything like him. Ara was aware that she was prejudiced and struggled to learn to forgive. Over another fifty years, they grew into each other forging true friendships. They learnt to protect each other, look after each other, and tease with love.
They celebrated with her when she completed a zoology degree. She had finished the course in twenty years, part time with a robotics major. She had two high awards, and could teach now if she wanted to. They took her out to celebrate.
Beachside City
The sun was hot, waves were high, and laughter reached his office window. Cobra stood leaning out, staring at the blue ocean before him. The sands were white, dotted with those making the most of the warm day. He had studied Ara’s family very carefully over the years. He had even walked amongst the guests for her one hundredth birthday. Meg, Ara’s little sister, had seen him and ran up, pleased he’d come.
He spent some time here and some time on Sparta Prime. On the Spartan planet, he picked up information regarding psychological warfare. No doubt, Tarus would hate that approach. It was ironic that the very Lacuna he was against actually helped their cause in such a practical way; it was their main source of material and inspiration.
Over the years, he discovered which members of Ara’s family could be manipulated. Frustrations built as only one was fragile enough to tip, but he grew bored with Caleb’s life. The First-Gen had been surprisingly resistant to manipulation and he was sure Trickster had not been helping the prince. Young love and passions wouldn’t follow the rules; Caleb was the only one Ara was genuinely interested in, and he was often away.
Pen and Terance had already made their own problems, though, by pretending to be Inferors to raise Ara, interfering with Nyx’s own greater plans. He could threaten to report them but he guessed that the Aryan Government already knew. The media was another idea.
He couldn’t give himself away too much in this early stage, but subtle comments and dreams could act on a weak mind. Kavela was almost in play; Viper was doing a good job there. He almost laughed when he heard Ara had a crush on the Pure-Gen. Not that Kavela was a really a Pure-Gen, just another pawn in their game. He had a Pure-Gen biosuit, memories wiped, and while Ara grew, Kavela was being groomed for a much larger game.
Soon, the fruits of his work would start to be felt. At times he may have regretted planning against Nyx and her Vanguard, but he had no regrets about severing himself from Monad’s Old Regime. It was corrupt and it had to go. He closed the window, annoyed now because he was supposed to be on a break, and headed out, grabbing his surfboard along the way.
Homestead
Ara tossed and turned, unable to sleep after the one hundredth birthday day. When any Aryan turned one hundred they were given a pendant with the Triad symbol, the Superlunary, Nexus, and Sawol. Every Aryan had those three things locked in their bodies, making them one. But when Ara had tried to get technical about it, and download data, the Cardinal Unit blocked her. She called Korbet.
“I’m not your personal lawyer, honeybee.”
“I know that,” she said with asperity. “But you could point me in the right direction. Pllllleeeeassseeeee.”
He laughed over the Voice. “Alright, and you did call me on your new Voice rather than use ArT. But I already know that the Cardinal Unit forbids anyone access to those records.”
“See, I did call the right person. I even have you programmed into my new Voice.” Her voice was smug. Caleb had sent her an oblong Voice that had the colors and markings of a strawberry. He had one that looked like chocolate. Most people thought they were immature, but strawberries and chocolate meant something to them both from their childhood, their first kiss.
“Well, I don’t know the ‘why’.”
“But surely someone has been able to test how much of those three things are in us?”
“That is not the Planet of Law’s area but we might have registered patents on those tests; however, they
are secured.”
She chewed her finger. “Okay, thanks.”
“Congratulations on your one hundredth.”
“Thanks.”
“Why do you care about the Triads so much?”
She shrugged and quickly said, “I don’t really.”
There was silence then a sigh. “Ara, had you said you wanted to find out about the most sacred part of our culture and discover the wonders of history as to why we almost worship the three Artifacts, I would have been happy to look into it more for you.”
Oops. She should have said that. “I know, but it was nice to hear your voice again.”
“Any time … with consideration.” He added the last quickly.
After that, she laid her Voice on her chest, kicking down the covers, feeling hot and annoyed. It had been a wonderful time of picnic, party, climbing events, horse riding, family, and friends to talk with. For some reason, during the day she kept worrying about why she had been fabricated as a Pure-Gen. Matter levels were rising still and the logs were becoming more frequent. Fear grew in her seeing that antimatter might be released if matter wasn’t controlled. Ara’s eyes widened. Was that why Marc was really gone, mapping HaV dimensions? Was he on a secret mission to determine why and how matter was being transferred to normal space? Her imagination ran away with her, envisaging Marc on dangerous missions. That’s why he couldn’t tell her; one, he was on a mission, and two, he knew she was a Mobile Unit. She would have to make sure she didn’t accidently walk in on him when he visited. But a secret agent would be careful, surely. On some of the shows she watched the operatives were a bit careless but that was because the writers were too lazy to write a really clever antagonist. Ara turned and spread out on her belly, her face squished in the pillow.
Drifting off to sleep, a strange feeling swept over her. She felt something tugging at her mind so she left her bed, dressed in comfortable clothes, headed out of her bedroom, down the passage to the backdoor and opened it. Hovering by the railing was a long container. What a strange dream. She reached out and touched the dark red metal. A panel slid open and—she took the time to analyze the data she received along with the medium—nanites transferred a message to her. “Enter and find out why you were fabricated.”
