by Sulin Young
“Because Pophusia doesn’t have a school for people like you. You knew that already.”
Baneyon had been tutoring her every day since she had uttered her first words in his apartment and, to his surprise, she had proven to be an excellent pupil. She had already memorised every planet in the thirteen sectors as well as their coordinates on the spatial map.
It hadn’t been difficult for her to grasp that different regions in the universe were classified as sectors, and that gates led into and out of them. She was also adapting well enough to the different races and species around her, and she no longer pointed and stared at them with an open mouth, much to his relief.
However, quick as she was, it had taken her longer to understand the concepts of Dartkala and qi. Dartkala, also referred to as the ‘In-Between’ was the space or darkness that existed between all the sectors. Qi, was the energy born from Dartkala and existed everywhere.
“When the qi measurement in your body surpasses fifty quinces, you have reached the level of a weaver. There are three qi classifications; weaver, lacer, and feiyed. You are a weaver, as I am. A lacer is someone who manipulates qi in a different manner than you would do. Only animals are feiyed. If by some misfortune you should encounter a feiyed animal, my only advice is to run; they are dangerous. Never confront a feiyed animal.”
And so it had boiled down to classification. Baneyon was sending her to the planet Pa Gumpina, which had the only school for weavers. Pophusia, where Terrana wished to remain, boasted the largest school for lacers.
“What makes you so sure I’m a weaver?” Terrana was clearly unhappy with her classification.
“You manipulate qi directly with your mind and body. Lacers, on the other hand, rely on a medium that synchronises their qi to manipulate it. The exercises we’ve been doing together prove that you are a weaver.”
“I don’t want to go.” She had that sullen look again. Baneyon sighed, unable to understand why she was so reluctant to attend Minda Yerra, the school in Pa Gumpina.
“Headmistress Marl and Master Drummik are looking forward to seeing you. They’ll take good care of you.”
She didn’t say anything. Instead, she looked as though she was about to cry.
“Hey… come on. It’s not going to be that bad. You’ll make new friends, learn new things and have a good time. I had a great time when I was at school!”
Terrana rewarded his efforts with a miserable look. She couldn’t tell him that he was the reason she didn’t want to leave.
“Oh my, what a beautiful child! Which sector do you come from?” Baneyon and Terrana looked up in surprise and, for different reasons, their eyes nearly popped out of their heads.
A stunning, well dressed Pophusian woman with ample curves stood at their table. Her warm, silver eyes sparkled in the sunlight, her hair cascaded over her shoulders in gentle waves, and, like Baneyon, she was tall with greyish skin. She wore a striped knee length jumpsuit. It had a low neckline, revealing a very attractive cleavage, which was further accessorized with silver sparkles lightly smeared over her chest.
She also wore colourful rings, which Terrana took to immediately. Pretty high heels embellished with coloured crystals completed her look.
“Eliksha Bakshur,” she said, holding out her hand. “Mind if I take a seat?”
Baneyon shook her hand, a stupid grin on his face. “Not at all. Baneyon Ondur, and this is my adopted child, Terrana Ondur.”
A waiter came over immediately, dressed in a white shirt with a black bow tie and a pair of black trousers. He was quite furry, with fox-like ears and big shiny teeth.
“A glass of Daiphus red, please,” said Eliksha. The waiter nodded and disappeared.
“Forgive my rudeness but I’ve not seen a child like you before,” she said, smiling at Terrana. “And with such a beautiful face, it’s a pity to paint it with sadness.”
Terrana smiled. It evoked the same response in Eliksha, and Baneyon suddenly found himself the envy of all the other men in the café. The waiter returned to the table with a tall glass of bubbling, red liquid. Upon closer examination, Terrana realised that it was filled with thousands of little red nodules that looked suspiciously like fish eggs.
“Would you like to try some?” Eliksha asked, noticing her interest. “They are frog eggs, from the very elusive red-spotted rain frog of Daiphus.”
Frog eggs? Terrana wondered whether they tasted anything like fish eggs. “Sure, I’ll try some.”
“That’s a good girl!” Eliksha handed her a long spoon and slid the glass over while Baneyon looked on, a gleam in his eyes.
The first mouthful tasted extremely sweet. The eggs must have been soaked in syrup. She bit into them, releasing a simultaneous explosion of salty and bitter flavours.
“So, what do you think?” Eliksha was looking at her, curiosity sketched on her face.
“Bitter.” From the way her face scrunched up, it was obvious that Terrana was struggling to keep the eggs down.
“Aah …” said Eliksha awkwardly, unsure of how to help with Terrana’s discomfort.
“Gotta go!” Terrana mumbled through her half-closed mouth as she lunged out of her chair and dashed towards the toilets while dodging surprised waiters. At the same time, she tried not to bite into any more of the eggs, which still clung to her teeth.
Baneyon struggled to suppress his laughter as he watched her sprint away. He had been surprised when she had agreed to try the eggs.
“So, you adopted a child from Sector Thirteen. How unusual is that? Imeldor Baneyon Ondur.”
Damn. He knew she had been too good to be true. She had referred to him by his title, Imeldor. Not many people recognised him as Baneyon Ondur, the youngest person to ever gain the highest rank a weaver could achieve. He sighed. “Okay, who are you and who sent you?”
Her eyes could have melted stone in sunlight. “I am an L-Master. The L-Council sent me. You and the rest of the Imeldors pulled a fast one on us.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
Baneyon thought quickly. Eliksha Bakshur was a lacer and she had achieved the rank of an L-Master, the equivalent of an Imeldor. Even worse, the lacers were poking around Terrana, and that wasn’t good news. To discover that a human child from Sector Thirteen possessed a high level of qi would certainly have disturbed the lacers. Their general reaction to the unknown was to place it under a microscope — in a lab, underground, on an unchartered planet.
“Our sources informed us that a child from Sector Thirteen had been brought to Pophusia, where she was treated for severe injuries and later adopted by none other than Baneyon Ondur himself. The child also has a secondary guardian, someone so high up that he or she cannot be named. There are only a few people in this sector who possess that level of anonymity.”
When Baneyon was not forthcoming, Eliksha continued. “The child is also being sent to Minda Yerra. Why is that?”
Baneyon leaned forwards so that their faces were only centimetres apart. “That much is obvious. She’s a weaver.”
“That cannot be determined until she is tested by the lacers,” Eliksha said forcefully.
“Eliksha, do you really think I would send Terrana to a school for weavers if she possessed a lacer’s abilities? That makes no sense.”
“It does if you are trying to conceal her. How did you even discover a child living on a remote island in Sector Thirteen?”
That was the problem. They hadn’t discovered her. She had discovered them, and it was only after some urgent discussion with Master Drummik and Headmistress Marl that they decided he should travel to Sector Thirteen to fetch her. Since he was the closest to her sector at the time, it had made sense. Baneyon shuddered to think what would have happened if Master Drummik had informed him even a minute later.
While he was still thinking of how to answer Eliksha, Terrana returned to the table looking slightly green, but also relieved. Both adults immediately resumed their relaxed expressions.
The waiter reappear
ed carrying a large bowl carved from ice. He placed it carefully in the middle of the table and Terrana feasted her eyes on the multiple scoops of ice cream surrounded with fruit, none of which she recognised.
“Compliments of the house, sir,” he said. “For the beautiful young ladies you have with you.”
“Th-thank you,” said Baneyon.
“Not at all, sir.” The waiter was already dishing out the ice cream into little bowls also carved from ice. When he left, Terrana could have sworn he winked at her.
It tasted a thousand times better than the red-spotted frog eggs. As she tucked into the dessert happily, Eliksha asked her a question. “Do you recognise the bird carved into the bowl, Terrana?”
Ask a stupid question, Terrana thought. Of course not. Her eyes had been on the ice cream the whole time. She shook her head, her mouth too full to speak.
“It’s the ice-phoenix of Dartkala or, rather, an artist’s guess of what it may look like. No one has actually seen it up close.”
Reluctantly, Terrana put her spoon down and swallowed the rest of the ice cream. She eyed the bird carved into the bowl dubiously. It looked like a horrendous mutation of a chicken and a pineapple.
“Ice-phoenix? As in, the feiyed bird that lives in the In-Between?”
“Yes, you know of it?”
“Only from what Baneyon told me. It breathes ice, freezing anything in its path instantly. When the ice is exposed to the In-Between for more than a minute, it turns into the hardest mineral ever known — velassium.”
Surprise clearly showed on Eliksha’s face. “Well, someone’s been educating you I see.” She avoided looking at Baneyon as she said it, which was just as well. He had the look of a hero returning triumphantly to his hometown after winning an inter-galactic battle.
“How can I tell a feiyed animal from the normal ones?”
“Their eyes!” said Baneyon and Eliksha simultaneously. Terrana flashed them confused looks.
“By their eyes, Terrana,” Eliksha said, cutting Baneyon off quickly. “When they are provoked, they draw on their qi, and it shows in their eyes.”
“Oh.” Terrana gave it some thought. “Does the same happen with weavers and lacers?”
“It depends on the level of qi they possess. Only weavers and lacers with the highest amount of qi show it in their eyes.”
“Are there any other feiyed animals besides the ice-phoenixes?”
“Yes, there are,” Baneyon answered quickly. “The winged faars of Swiva which belong to the queen of Sector Six. No one except for the queen’s people is allowed near them, not that others haven’t tried.”
“The queen?”
“Baneyon can tell you about her,” said Eliksha. Somehow, she didn’t look too happy at the mention of the queen. “I must be on my way now … I have an appointment to keep. But it was very nice meeting you, Terrana.”
“Likewise,” Terrana replied, flashing a big smile. Eliksha bent down and kissed her on the forehead.
“I’m sure we’ll meet again. Ta ta.”
Baneyon and Terrana watched her slink away, their eyes glued to every bump and curve in that soft, silky jumpsuit. They weren’t the only ones either; every male in the near vicinity had suddenly grown a pair of binoculars on their faces.
“Can I get a jumpsuit like hers?”
Baneyon almost spat out his iced, hejeuwa berry tea. “Over my dead body!”
“Why not? Eliksha’s wearing one.”
“Well, for one thing, Eliksha’s a grownup, capable of making her own decisions. Secondly, you don’t have bo—, br—, besides, haven’t I spent enough on you?”
“No,” replied Terrana flatly, conveniently forgetting the previous week’s shopping excursion when she had basked in the glory of clothes, clothes, and more clothes! Baneyon had taken her of course, and he had waited patiently while she had been fussed over by the shop attendants who dressed her in outrageous, funky costumes that were all the rage among teenagers. Terrana had loved it. She loved being spoiled, seeing herself in other-worldly outfits, blending in with the other races on Pophusia. In the end, she had walked away with a mountain of bags. Baneyon, on the other hand, had been stuck with a hefty bill that had him moaning for two days.
“Well, you are not getting a jumpsuit,” said Baneyon, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest. “That’s my final answer.” There came that look again. Oh how the little brat had perfected it!
“You’re sending me away to a completely alien planet, to an alien school where there is no uniform policy. I repeat, no uniform policy. I am going to be teased, bullied even. At least allow me to be teased with a little respect. Buy me cool clothes.”
Baneyon gave her a long look, hoping to discover a little guilt or remorse in her eyes for uttering such sinful words. There was none. If she didn’t leave soon, his bank balance would implode. “I’m putting you on the first ship to Pa Gumpina!”
Terrana scowled. “I sense no love from you. No love at all.” Her expression changed as she recalled something. “Who was this queen that Eliksha was talking about?”
“Ah …” Baneyon straightened. “She’s the ruler of Sector Six.”
“I thought all the sectors were governed by the UWIB Federation? How can there be a queen?”
“The UWIB Federation is responsible for many things in the ten sectors, but each sector has its own separate natural governance. The cultural differences between races across Dartkala is just too vast and too many for UWIB to effectively govern, hence each sector has its own appointed government. In the case of Sector Six, the royal family is paramount.”
Terrana mulled over Baneyon’s explanation. “Earlier, you called her the queen of Swiva and not the queen of Sector Six. Why?”
“Swiva is her home planet so people tend to refer to her in that manner. However, make no mistake, the queen rules all of Sector Six.”
9
Unfurl the sails!
The day finally arrived. Terrana stared up at the fleet of junks floating in the sky, excitement coursing through her veins. Each junk was its own character — proud, dignified, carefree, and brave. They were colourful, their sails hanging at half-mast while excited passengers walked up planks onto spacious decks.
Some junks were in the process of unfurling their sails, which resembled magnificent wings as their battens splayed out, lending shape and strength.
“Ready to board?” said Baneyon, looking at Terrana. Their eyes met.
“You promise you’ll come visit me?”
Baneyon nodded. “I have some business in Pa Gumpina, so I’ll be sure to stop by on the way.”
“Well, guess I’m ready as can be then.” She took a deep breath. “I’m not saying goodbye.”
Baneyon nodded and watched her walk towards the boarding gate. He had to stop himself from calling out to her. Let her go. She has to do this on her own. She paused at the gate where the conductor verified her ticket. He nodded, allowing her to pass. And then she was gone.
Baneyon spun on his heels, trying to ignore the strange feeling of loss inside him. As he walked away from the departure dock, he suddenly remembered he had forgotten to tell her something. He cringed and hoped that she’d be able to figure out which junk to board.
Terrana was not able to figure it out and she cursed Baneyon while stumbling through the mass of people rushing to board their flights. She stopped a Mizoran, a large, gelatinous creature which had a suitcase embedded in its body, to ask for directions.
“Excuse me,” she said politely, “do you know which junk goes to Pa Gumpina, stop Minda Yerra?”
“Ooo yesss I thoo. Feftenf plathfom gathe three. Baaiii.”
Fifteenth platform, gate three. Great. She was on platform two, with ten minutes left to board. She wanted to scream at Baneyon.
“Hey, are you a student at Minda Yerra?” Terrana looked around, thinking someone had spoken to her. Everyone seemed to be rushing by.
“I’m down here.”
Terrana looked down. Her mouth fell open. Unable to control herself, she stuttered. “You are a b-baby elephant.”
In front of her, standing upright on its back legs, was the cutest baby elephant dressed in a pair of blue overalls. It was no more than waist high and had the biggest, bluest eyes she had ever seen. Judging from its demeanour, the gaming pad in its hand, and the slightly raspy tone of its voice, she guessed it was male. She looked around to see if anyone else had spotted him. No, they hadn’t. Good — she could throw her coat over him and run off. Her very own pet elephant!
“I’m from Nipponia,” he said. “This will be my first year at Minda Yerra.”
“Oh!” said Terrana, disappointment washing over her face as she realised that she couldn’t carry out her dastardly plan.
“Are you going to Minda Yerra?” asked the elephant.
Terrana looked at him dejectedly before nodding. She noticed he had fingers on his hands instead of big elephant toes, and … he wore sandals.
“I’m going too. I can take you to the platform if you like, but we have to run.”
In the end, pragmatism overrode her disappointment and she smiled. “I’d appreciate it.”
It was dash and dodge as they raced between people and luggage vans, trying to reach the elevator chutes before the crowds rushed in and smothered them. Finally, after much huffing and puffing, they reached the fifteenth platform and the elephant grabbed her hand, pulling her towards a giant black junk with silver sails.
“That’s it! Dartkala’s Arrow!” the elephant shouted above the noise. “That’s our junk!”
She was magnificent. Sails billowed out like a king’s cloak as crewmen scurried up and down her masts, readying her for departure. She wasn’t as large as some of the other junks, but she was much more streamlined. Just by looking at her, Terrana knew she was a fast ship. A junk in the skies, a ship in the void.
Terrana and the elephant leapt onto a bright, orange disk at the edge of the platform and began to rise, leaving behind the madness of boarding time. They were met on the deck by a bald, Cubeyon lady wearing glasses.
