by Sulin Young
“That’s awful. Why would they do that?” Terrana shuddered.
“Who knows?” said another voice. Terrana looked up and saw Lorn standing next to her. His hair was damp and he had changed his shirt, compliments of the cabin. He settled into his pod.
“The inhabitants of Olden Kartath are said to be one of the earliest sentient beings to exist,” he said, picking up from Bindal. “Their world was probably the first to be born.”
He paused for effect. “But then, something catastrophic happened, nearly destroying their entire world in the process. People have theories as to what might have caused it but, to this day, no one has been able to prove it.”
“And the hallucinations?” asked Terrana. “What do people see?”
“They see pain, death, a world burning to ashes. They feel grief, and its burden is so great that those who are deeply touched by these hallucinations die from them. The only way to avoid them is to have a dreamless sleep.”
“But I always dream when I sleep!” blurted Terrana, panicking. “What if I wake up or can’t sleep?”
“You won’t,” said Mikin. “This ship was created by weavers to especially protect us from the hallucinations of Olden Kartath. We won’t have a choice — as soon as we reach the gate, we will sleep.”
“Oh.” But Terrana still didn’t understand completely. If Olden Kartath was so dangerous, why were they passing through it?
Lorn must have read her mind because he said, “We’re in the world between worlds right now, Terrana. We’re in the In-Between. To reach a different sector, we have to travel through the In-Between. But sectors are extremely far apart and it would take years, or a lifetime even, to reach them if we didn’t have gates. Gates shorten our journeys considerably.”
He raised his hand and Terrana watched in amazement as he created a piece of paper out of thin air. He plucked it from its suspended state and folded a portion of it, then turned it over and folded it again. He repeated this process until it resembled a paper fan. Then, using his index finger, he burned a tiny hole at the top and another at the bottom.
“Imagine that this piece of paper is the In-Between, and also the only road we have. If we were to travel from up here to down there,” he pointed to each of the holes, “we’d have to follow the fold of the paper to get there, right?”
Terrana nodded. That made sense.
“Right, so now ask yourself, what if we could travel through the paper instead of along it?”
“Like burning more holes in it?”
Lorn nodded. “Exactly.” He held his finger over different points along the paper and tiny holes appeared. “These holes are what we call gates in the In-Between, and they exist in many places. By going through these holes or gates, we can reach our destinations faster, in some cases, days instead of years.”
“Oh, I get it now. So you’re saying that in order for us to reach Pa Gumpina quickly, we need to go through the gate at Olden Kartath?”
“Yes. Unfortunately, there aren’t many gates between Pophusia and Pa Gumpina, and Olden Kartath is the only world which has gates that can connect us. Otherwise, it would take us a month to arrive at Minda Yerra!”
Terrana mulled it over. “Does everyone travel to Pa Gumpina and other sectors like this?”
Bagruth volunteered to answer. “Well, yes and no. Some worlds are fairly close together so they only need standard starships to travel. No gates required.”
“Okay.” Everything was still so new and strange to her. Some things she had seen in her dreams — but to truly experience and understand them? She could never have imagined them a few months back. Her thoughts were interrupted when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She stood up suddenly, surprising everyone.
“What is it, Terrana?” asked Lorn. She didn’t answer. Instead, she walked to the bar quickly and stopped next to a pod stool that had been facing her. Something was hiding in it. The lining of the pod was dark so she didn’t see it straightaway, but when she did, she gasped. A pair of mismatched eyes stared back at her.
“It’s a … kitten.” Lorn stood behind her. He sounded just as surprised as she felt. The others rushed over. Sporting one orange and one blue eye, a silver white kitten with dark stripes stared back at them. Little tufts of fur stuck out from the points of its ears, a bushy tail curled around it, and unusual feathery whiskers twitched uncertainly.
It meowed and Terrana’s heart melted. “Come here,” she said gently, reaching out to it. It sniffed her cupped hands suspiciously, decided she was safe, and stepped into them. Terrana was suddenly overcome by a strong urge to protect it as she cuddled the tiny feline to her chest.
“Oh my, it’s soooo cute!” Bindal gushed. “How did it get here?”
“Good question,” muttered Lorn, staring at it suspiciously. “It wasn’t here earlier. Terrana, don’t hold it so close. It’s probably got germs.”
But Terrana could no longer hear him as she cuddled and cooed at the kitten. Two young ones in the void. The ice-phoenix’s words returned to her and she frowned. What on earth had that meant? The kitten distracted her, meowing and pawing gently at the black, tear-shaped pearl that still hung around her neck on the leather thong. The pearl and the thong, like her, had somehow survived the fire.
“Awww, are you hungry? Let’s find you some milk, shall we?”
13
The prince of Swiva
Terrana stood by the edge of the junk’s deck and stared thousands of metres below, through the wispy clouds to the great lake and mountains that surrounded Minda Yerra. She held onto the kitten, which she had christened Kazu after the ship’s computer, and looked at the others. Mikin, Lorn, Bindal, and Bagruth watched her with what she thought was amusement.
“You’re all mad if you think I’m going to jump!” she barked.
They had finally arrived in Pa Gumpina after passing through Olden Kartath without any mishap, and the ship had reverted to a junk. Despite having activated some sort of energy shield around itself to protect it from the blistering winds of the planet’s atmosphere, the sails flapped wildly.
They were drifting above Minda Yerra and were descending slowly, which was fine until Terrana learned that the students were required to jump from the junk at this point because it could not land on the planet’s surface.
“Here, I’ll take Kazu,” said the big, hairy Bagruth. “He needs to be in his drop-box so he can be lowered with all the other little animals.”
Terrana handed the kitten over reluctantly. As she watched him leave with Kazu, she decided she couldn’t bear staying behind.
“Wait!” she called out. “Put me in the box too!”
She tried to run after him but Lorn stood in her way.
“Don’t be a wuss. Look around, everyone’s loving it!”
That was the problem. Everywhere she looked, students were pushing past each other to climb onto the planks that had been extended from the sides of the junk. One moment she could see their faces, and the next they had dropped away, hurtling towards the hard ground below.
“Here, put this on. You need to protect your eyes.” Lorn fitted a pair of light goggles around her head.
“I know you’re lying to me! There’s another way down and you’re not telling me!”
“Nope. The only way down is to jump, but you have nothing to worry about. Once you reach a thousand metres, the school’s flight-packs will latch onto you and deliver you to the ground safely.”
Deliver? He made her sound like a postcard! Some students passed by and Terrana overheard one say to the other, “Did you hear what happened to Ikaron? His flight-pack malfunctioned and failed to latch onto him. They say he went splat right in front of everyone …”
Her legs began to wobble. “I can’t do it! I don’t care what you say, I’m not jumping! You’re not even using parachutes!”
“What are parachutes?” asked Bindal. She was stretching on the deck, bending her body into impossible positions as she prepared to leap off
the junk. Mikin was right next to her, fiddling around with his goggles, which contained a camera of some sort. Apparently, Bindal had managed to coerce him into taking pictures of her while she freefell, so that she could enter them into the school’s photography competition.
“Parachutes are big pieces of canvas that open up and slow your descent!” replied Terrana. “You attach them to your bodies.”
Bindal laughed, her face crinkling prettily. “Drop-chutes you mean? We don’t use them anymore. They’re archaic and unreliable. Mikin, you ready?”
“All set!” Mikin couldn’t have looked more enthusiastic. He turned to Terrana, a big smile on his face. “Don’t worry, Terrana. Nothing will go wrong. Lorn will take care of you!”
Terrana groaned inwardly. The expression, ‘Famous last words’ came to mind. She held her breath as she watched them walk the plank, balancing precariously in the strong wind. The thought of standing on a narrow board thousands of metres above ground was enough to make her dizzy. Her stomach churned.
Bindal raised her hands, closing her eyes as she prepared to dive. She squatted several times to warm up. Mikin copied her and, despite her anxiety, Terrana thought he looked quite comical— a little elephant on a diving board.
Bindal began counting. “Three …, two …, one.”
Terrana was unable to tear her eyes away. Bindal and Mikin were there one moment, and then gone the next— as if the sky had swallowed them.
“We’re up,” said Lorn, trying to guide her to the plank.
“My buta we are!” yelped Terrana, reverting to Fijian slang. She made a valiant effort to bolt towards the upper deck and succeeded in covering at least twenty metres before a hand grabbed her by the collar of her jacket.
“Let me go!” she shouted, her feet sliding across the wooden deck as Lorn dragged her towards the plank. “You can’t force me to jump!”
“You’re overreacting. It’ll be over quickly.” They had reached the steps and Terrana dug her feet into them, straining against Lorn with every particle of her strength.
“YOU MEAN MY LIFE WILL BE OVER! I WANNA LIVE, YOU HEAR ME? LIVE!”
“Stop being so melodramatic.”
“Me? Melodr—”
Lorn plucked her off the steps, tucking her under his right arm like a barrel of beer. Then he climbed onto the plank, noticing how still she had become. He released her and watched in amazement as she dropped to her knees and wrapped all four limbs around the plank.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the plank was your boyfriend.”
“Take me back,” she said hoarsely, clinging on for a dear life. Her stomach had shrunk to the size of a walnut as she eyed the dizzying heights below her, and for the first time in her life, she regarded vacuity as something to avoid whenever and wherever possible.
“Hey, aren’t you jumping off already? We’re waiting here!”
Terrana raised her head to see who had spoken. Unfortunately for her, it turned out to be one person speaking for several students who were waiting impatiently on the far end of the plank.
“C’mon, we haven’t got all day!” they called out.
“Wai-wait,” she stuttered. “I’m coming back!”
They looked at her as if she had lost her mind.
“Nah,” said a short, turtle-faced boy. “You’re getting off now!” He grinned. “Everyone?”
To Terrana’s horror, they all jumped onto the plank and under their combined weights, it began to dip.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” She could feel herself sliding backwards. “Lorn! Lorn. Help!”
Hands reached out, grabbed her by the shoulders and helped her to her feet. Lorn’s green eyes pierced her own.
“Close your eyes.”
“Ta-take me back!” she ordered. The plank dipped further as the other students inched closer towards them. Lorn sighed.
“If that’s what you want.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. Then he stepped off the plank, taking Terrana with him.
“MNNNNNNNNN GAIIIIIIIIIIII …”
Her screaming baffled the other students.
“What did she say?” asked the turtle-faced boy.
“Dunno, my language detector couldn’t translate it,” said a yellow blob.
“I have it,” said someone else. He looked a little more human, with green skin and big bug eyes. “It’s Fijian for …” His face pinched a little.
“Well?” asked the turtle-faced boy.
“Put it this way, she wasn’t thanking us.”
Silence.
Then the green kid spoke. “Well, if she didn’t want to jump she should have taken the landing shuttle.”
Terrana couldn’t hear herself screaming against the rush of the wind. Lorn had been a right bastard— he had disentangled himself from her by wedging his knee between them and pushing off. She could see him freefalling about thirty metres to her right, grinning and waving at her. He gestured with his hands, trying to tell her something. Spread out. She was so spread out that she looked like the broken spokes of an umbrella.
Her initial terror gave way to exhilaration as the wind rushed by and the ground loomed closer. Unlike her dreams, exhaling did not slow her descent. A gust caught her, sending her tumbling. Her world spun crazily, and that was the end of her freefall fun. All around, students were shouting and spinning, enjoying the thrill of the fall. Terrana hated them all.
She could clearly distinguish the lake and buildings below and, in particular, the dragon emerging from the mountain. She gulped nervously and looked around for Lorn. He was nowhere to be seen.
A dark cloud on her left caught her attention. Even as she watched, it came closer, humming and whirring … growing louder. Realising it was a flock of flight-packs, she wanted to shout in relief, but her throat had dried up from her earlier efforts.
The flight-packs resembled gigantic prehistoric dragonflies as they approached the freefalling students. One by one they flew over to each student and latched onto their backs before carrying them off, their brilliant wings whirring and gliding on the air currents.
Where was hers? She looked around in panic. Students above her were already being secured and there weren’t any others remaining below. Had they forgotten her? She prepared herself for an almighty scream.
She jerked suddenly as something clamped around her hips and shoulders, and she was no longer falling. Relief flooded her— her flight-pack had finally arrived! It carried her smoothly through the air, gliding towards the ground and, for the first time, Terrana lost her fear.
She actually took the time to appreciate the view, and as she got closer to the ground she paid close attention to the other students as they landed, detached their flight-packs and walked off. She was no higher than twenty metres when her flight-pack spluttered and coughed. Alarm bells went off in her head.
“This is so not good,” she muttered.
As her flight-pack continued to choke, the students on the ground noticed her plight and began pointing.
It happened without warning. Her flight-pack flipped over and shot towards a copse of trees located between the school and lake. It flew really low, dragging her across the ground resulting in bruised and scraped legs.
“HELP ME SOMEONE PLEASE! HEEEEEEEEELP!”
She broke through the trees and the flight-pack accelerated towards the lake. It dragged an absolutely terrified Terrana through the water. At one point she was completely submerged, staying under for at least a minute before shooting vertically into the air. She must have climbed at least four hundred metres when the flight-pack suddenly cracked down the middle. The bands around her shoulders and hips snapped off and in that one, split-second moment, Terrana found herself suspended in the air, free of the flight-pack. And then she fell.
She could no longer scream or move. Her mind barely registered her predicament as she stared into the cold face of the lake. She wondered whether she would feel the stinging pain of the world’s largest belly flop or whet
her it would be more of a bone-breaking sensation.
Someone— she sensed it was a male— grabbed her and threw her face down over a sort of saddle behind him. Then he twisted around to sit astride the creature that was carrying them, and that was all Terrana could make of the rider. The sound of powerful wings beating filled her ears, but she was too weak to lift her head enough to see what manner of creature it was. They were gliding, returning to the school. As a token of her appreciation, Terrana threw up, spilling most of her waste on the creature and some on the mystery rider’s pants. The rest splashed back into her face and hair.
She heard cussing from the rider, and even the creature growled. Tears slowly crept down her face as the humiliation of her first-day-at-school-appearance sunk in; she was soaked to the bone, her legs were bruised and bleeding, and her face was covered in vomit. No matter what, she did not wish to land in front of all the other students like this. Her rescuer may have shared the same thoughts because they swerved away from the school towards a small clearing in the nearby forest. The creature took a few running steps as it landed, and then came to a complete stop.
She knew she had to dismount, thank her rescuer, and walk away, but doing that required raising her head to face him, and shame prevented her from doing so. Instead, she kept her head lowered while trying to wipe the tears and vomit away.
The rider laid a coat over her shoulders, wrapping her tightly before pulling her into his strong arms. She felt herself being carried from the animal, and then she was laid gently upon the ground. She listened to his footsteps as he walked away.
“Terrana!”
Lorn burst into the clearing, looking frantic. He spotted her and rushed to her side.
“Terrana.” He attempted to raise her from her lying position but she resisted, clutching the coat tightly.
“Are you hurt? Can you walk?”
Terrana didn’t answer— her stomach had decided to play havoc again and she threw up.
“Terrana—”
“GET AWAY FROM ME!” She pushed him violently, still hiding under the coat. Lorn went very still. It hurt him to hear her anger, but he didn’t blame her. He felt he deserved it after everything that had happened. He retreated a few steps, unsure of what to do, when he noticed the boy for the first time.
