Raystar of Terra: Book 1

by Kurt Johnson

  “Stop those kids!” one guard cried.

  I dodged elbows and shoulders and was about to yell to Nonch about how dumb this was when we spilled through the crowd. Nonch let me go, and I tumbled and landed on my stomach in the dust of the playground.

  “Mother! Father!” Mieant shouted.

  Strong hands lifted me to my feet. They belonged to the Lethian woman kneeling in front of me. Her huge, black eyes took me in, and a small line of worry creased her brow. She looked…the downward smirk that edged most Lethians’ lips didn’t appear on her face. It was as if joy had liberated the corners of her mouth, and the beginning of a grin was just waiting to be released. As I regarded her silver hair and large, pupil-less eyes, she reminded me of a radiant, silvery moon. Hers was a face filled with hope. Trust. A belief that the starting point between two people should be that they wished goodwill upon each other.

  She looked…kind.

  “Are you harmed?” she asked, brushing grass and dirt off my shirt. I was winded, but I couldn’t stop staring. She raised her hand to someone behind me, her palm extended. “We are safe.” The school security guards had reached us and were huffing and puffing at the perimeter of the crowd.

  Mieant ran up to where his mother knelt and I stood. “Raystar,” he said, pointing from me to his mother. “Mo-, uh, this is my mother, Freela Covent Asrigard, Co-Governor of the Solium4 Quadrant. And this is my father, Kaleren Covent Asrigard, Co-Governor of the Solium4 Quadrant. As well.” At this, he gestured to the tall Lethian man striding toward us.

  Freela rose, as graceful as if wind was lifting her up, and took two steps back, timing it perfectly with her husband’s approach. Apparently, the Lethian colors were white and black. Freela wore a white jumpsuit with a high collar. Her overcoat fit her like a dress, coming to an end above her knees in a black band that flared outward. Her knees were colored brown from the schoolyard’s dirt, from when she’d knelt to pick me up. In a mysterious synchronicity, they both stopped, shoulder to shoulder, at exactly the same moment.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Raystar Ceridian, Ascendant. Perhaps for the wrong reasons, we have heard much about you,” Freela said, smiling. I was Ascendant too?

  I knew I should try to close my mouth.

  Kaleren quickly added, “Of course, we are happy to meet you, for all the right reasons.”

  Kaleren was dressed in black. He wore an identical jump suit and overcoat, which ended at exactly the same spot as Freela’s, except the swath of color at the bottom of his was white. Like his wife, he didn’t have the usual Lethian perpetual frown. He smiled, and there was clean humor just underneath his words.

  I liked them.

  “Forgive my stare, young Ceridian,” Freela said. I blinked at how nice they were being. My mouth was still open, and my tongue was drying out. “You must know we are aware of what your coloration means. You are much more vivid than images.”

  “Freela, now is not the time,” Kaleren said, touching her elbow lightly and gesturing to the news vids and throngs of people around us.

  “She is the reason we came to this…,” Freela edited herself, but her reference to the school, to Blue River, and maybe even to Nem’ was unmistakable. “It seems right to at least acknowledge my staring.”

  Mieant frowned at their exchange and coughed politely. They paused, looked at him, then me, and then as one turned to my sister, on my right. “You are Cri.”

  Cri’s eyes had become huge golden plates stuck on either side of her nose. They flashed, and in an unexpected attack of manners, my sister replied, “A pleasure to meet you, Co-Governors.”

  “You have our thanks, Cri Ceridian, Ascendant and Heir, for coming to our child’s aid.”

  “You are welcome,” she managed to get out. “They were pounding him. I grabbed the first kid and…” she made fists with two hands and pantomimed. A shadow fell over Kaleren’s complexion.

  Freela frowned. “Indeed? My son is not without his own skills. I am only happy for his health, and your safety. We will find the creatures responsible for this.”

  “Enough, Freela,” Kaleren whispered.

  “Nonch, of Broodmother Krig,” Freela said. They turned to Nonch and dipped their heads to him. “Extend our congratulations to your matriarch on her broodship’s productivity.” Nonch clacked his armor in response. “We know of her uniqueness and hope she recognizes that the attention we have had to give to our distractions is in no way intended as an insult. We should have contacted her sooner.”

  Nonch froze, and after a millisecond, his sensor stalk twitched. He spread his arm claws low and scuttled back from them. I smelled citrus and was sure it was coming from him. There was so much to Crynits—they had a language that was physical and olfactory—that I didn’t know. I’d never seen my friend behave that way.

  Kaleren’s gaze landed on each of us as he said, “I will make an invitation to your parents. However, since we have you here, let your parents know that we wish all of us to converge at our residence within the week. There is much to discuss.”

  “Us too?” Cri asked, tentatively. I looked at my sister, trying to understand why she felt so left behind in terms of attention. Mom and Dad loved her like oxygen.

  “Of course, young Ceridian. I won’t trouble you with the specifics, but if your parents ask, let them know that we consider it of great importance that you all attend.”

  “Governors,” one golden-armored solider, a Crynit, interrupted, “You are at risk of falling behind this afternoon’s schedule. We must return to Ever this evening.”

  Freela nodded to the soldier and looked meaningfully at Kaleren. She said, “I don’t know why the Heir decided to come here from Ever. This shortens our time here today.” Kaleren looked from Cri, to me, and finally to his wife, pausing on her for a long moment. Like that meant something.

  “Indeed,” Kaleren replied, turning his thoughtful gaze to me once more.

  Everyone talking in code was hurting my head. Or maybe it was from being tossed to the ground not ten minutes ago.

  I looked around. We were midway through the playground. A forest of play structures rose around us, and the imposing upside-down pyramid of Blue River Educational Facility scowled from its heights. Blue River’s giant doors hung open like a cavernous maw with a throat leading into darkness. Oblivious, kids hung, sat, and swung on the playground’s structures like the Terran monkeys AI had told me I reminded him of. The ones not on the equipment had formed a large U shape. The school doors sat at the open end of the U, and we were about halfway between the doors and the curve of the U.

  Principal Entarch strode from the blackness of the school’s interior toward a podium just outside the doors. There, apparently, she had initially planned to meet the Asrigards for the greeting ceremony. Nyla and her GNN crew had taken up the best position for shots, and a swarm of video drones hovered above the reporter.

  Roughly three hundred security guards had formed in fifty-by-fifty blocks behind the Principal. She needed them all, I guess, to keep order.

  To minimize food fights, perhaps?

  I gulped as our luck became obvious. If we had stumbled through the crowd closer to the doors, we’d have wound up amidst the guards. Everything would have been different. Chance and luck, once again, had determined our destiny.

  Mieant’s parents had assembled thirty Solarian4 Quadrant guard escorts. The Lethians, Crynits, and Gleans who made up their security detail wore golden armor, complete with scratches and dents—the symbols of their victories. Weapons clusters poked up from their backpacks like stubby wings. Shield generators bulged like rectangular muscles along their arms and legs, and each wore clear force shields around their faces. The fact that the faceshields were active left no doubt that these soldiers were battle ready. Under Banefire’s glare, their golden armor took on a reddish tint.

  I sighed. We were supposed to go to class, have a normal day at school, be picked up, and then leave. The day wasn’t going in that direction. I ached fo
r normal normality, instead of this abnormal normality. I watched as the school’s doors closed, ponderous and final as a glacier. The Quadrant Guards reformed in a diamond shape around the Co-Governors, as they’d adjusted their formation slightly when we’d spilled out of the crowd. Their formation was precise, and their training was amazing, given the chaos of kids around them.

  Seeing her honored guests mingling with a pack of kids, Principal Entarch descended from her pedestal and strode toward us. She wore the billowing white ceremonial gown I’d seen her in on the first day of school. Its dramatic effect was reduced as she pulled it tight around her body, as if chilled.

  Every step radiated control and confidence. If she was upset by our interruption, she didn’t show it. Nyla’s news team followed in her wake, and the swarm of experians scattered to the air above, positioning for the best views.

  “Co-Governors,” Entarch said, bowing her head as she stopped in front of them. Her voice rang across the field, amplified by the sound drones that whirred over the crowd. The kids’ chatter dropped to a low murmur. It was incredible that this many children could be this quiet. The Quadrant guards parted as she stepped inside their perimeter. “I welcome you to our school!” she exclaimed, gesturing expansively. “I invite you to see beyond this formality and experience Blue River Educational Facility as a perpetuator of open discourse!”

  It was strange that she only used one hand. Her other was buried in her gown.

  Freela returned her gaze with a hint of disdain as Entarch continued. “And yet, formality can be the combination lock of friendship. With the right protocols, everything is open.”

  Entarch blinked, glancing between Freela, Kaleren, and me. “Ah,” she sighed, “I see you have met our Human. And her friends.” She turned back to the Asrigards. “I assure you, your son’s socialization goes well beyond this group of”—Entarch struggled for the words—“special students.”

  A relative silence froze time under Blue River Educational Facility’s oppressive shadow. GNN experians rose from their charging stations and hummed quietly as they zigged and hovered around each other to get the best angles. Somewhere, a bug made a small crick Sound, but aside from the drones, and maybe the background sound of thousands of kids breathing, the silence was oppressive.

  “Nonetheless,” Entarch continued, looking at the vid drones. “While I had planned time for you to see your son in his classroom environment, I am so happy you have had a chance to meet in advance of our discussions.”

  Unconsciously, Cri, Nonch, Mieant, and I stepped closer to each other.

  “Thank you for the kind words, Principal. My son and Cri Ceridian,” Freela said, glancing at Mieant, then Cri, and then slowly back to Entarch, “are the catalyst for our meeting today. But not the sole reason.”

  “Of course, Co-Governor Freela. I am relieved we were able to solve the mystery of the incident concerning your son. Violence at the Blue River Educational Facility is not tolerated. Our report, which we sent your staff yesterday, is on our agenda for discussion. But we do not have to stick to protocol. Shall we proceed indoors?” At the word “indoors,” Principal Entarch looked at me again. I returned her gaze with no small amount of fear and anger. This wasn’t just awkward. Something else was happening here.

  Kaleren gestured in my direction. “Actually, Raystar Ceridian is the second reason we are here.” A thousand faces turned toward me. My eyes got huge. Unconsciously, I smoothed my purple bangs out of my eyes and tucked my hair behind my ears while simultaneously trying to make myself invisible.

  Nyla’s news drones whirred in a renewed frenzy as they focused on Kaleren and then on me. One brave student yelled, “Food fight!” I shrank into my friends, feeling Mieant and Cri’s warmth and the sureness of Nonch’s hard shell at my back.

  Principal Entarch opened and shut her mouth. Uncomfortable, she moved to adjust her robe, and something glinted underneath. “I look forward to hearing your purpose, then, Co-Governor.”

  Kaleren smiled and turned to Nyla and her GNN team. He spoke. “We have treated Humans poorly. Our war with them was nearly two thousand years ago. Their technology haunts us. It is far past the time we take an inclusive approach with this notable Convergence species.” He turned back to Principal Entarch, who had taken a step closer to where Kaleren and Freela stood. The Quadrant guards faced the crowd, a golden wall of armor and weapons.

  “Principal, I apologize for hijacking your Greeting Ceremony, but I will be brief. Today, I have signed into Quadrant Four law the Human Inclusion Bill, designed to pave the way for full integration of Humanity into the Convergence!”

  I had no idea what that meant, but it sounded good. No one cheered. Why should they? I was the only Human on Nem’. But that a law had been passed gave me a flash of hope that there were large enough populations of Humans in Quadrant Four, at least.

  Kaleren had turned directly to the GNN drones, and Freela motioned for Nyla to approach. Entarch grimaced and moved, curiously, behind Freela and Kaleren, both hands in the folds of her robes.

  “Nonch.” I patted his armor. “We have to go. Now.”

  Mieant turned to me, frowned, and pointed at his parents’ thirty giant-sized, golden honor guards. Like I hadn’t seen them.

  “You getting your paranoid on?” Cri said, taking Mieant’s hand. She turned to him. “Let her go, if she wants. I’ll stay with you.”

  My bug eyes must have made her laugh. And what’s with her holding hands with Mieant? Going to school was a bad idea. My paranoia was unstoppable. I looked back at the cruiser I had thought was tracking me earlier.

  It was still there, tracking away. If anything, it was closer.

  Nova this. I was out of here.

  31

  “CITIZENS, REMAIN CALM. AND DO NOT MOVE!”

  The collective throng of kids, reporters, Co-Governors, security, and Quadrant Troops gasped, and turned as one in the direction of the amplified voice.

  Jurisdictor Godwill emerged from the school gates opposite the giant doors. In full NPD battle armor, followed by a squad of a hundred combat-ready, NPD-uniformed soldiers, he marched toward us. His troops stepped in time behind him, and the thundering crunch of their boots echoed though the assembly. Godwill carried his helmet under his right arm, like he’d done it a million times before, and his combat armor was turtlenecked around his jaw. His half-grimace, too-big eyes and protruding cheekbones exaggerated his skeletal visage.

  The sea of kids parted like terrified waves off of a ship’s bow. His soldiers included Lethians and Crynits, with the Crynits making up the flanks. One Crynit in particular stood out. Over six meters long, it bristled with weapons along its back and stood off to the side and slightly behind Godwill, waving its five claw arms as it breathed and loomed over the other soldiers. The Crynit’s segmented armor was midnight-blue, and there was a familiar starburst on each segment along its body. The yellow star shapes were abraded, as if someone had made a half-hearted effort to scrape the images from the armor.

  “It cannot be,” Nonch whispered.

  “What?” I returned, my gaze riveted on the giant Crynit.

  “We are in grave danger, Raystar.” A note of panic cracked my friend’s voice.

  “Pffft. Look around us, Shells.” I waggled my hand at the cruisers, the school security guards, the Ceridians’ elite guard, Godwill’s small flipping army, the auto cannons on the force fence.

  “You do not understand!” he hissed. “That is Sarla,” Nonch whispered, gawking at the giant Crynit by Godwill’s side. He turned to me. “We run into the crowd, then into the school. We must not be here a moment longer!”

  Godwill’s soldiers wore scarred and dented armor, proof that they’d seen and—more worrisome—survived lots of combat. Combat armor was made of a nearly indestructible metal. Inside, the armor provided insulation that absorbed electricity, diffused heat, and repelled the cold. It was layered with shield generators that could deflect, at least for a time, most anything that came at t
he person inside the armor.

  The dents meant that these troopers had faced combat even AFTER their shield generators had given way. And that giant Crynit—that one had the most-worn, battle-scarred armor of all.

  I looked at the golden Quadrant Guards and then back to Godwill’s small army. I’m sure the Ceridian elite guard had better ammo, fresher energy packs, and the most modern weapons, but the numbers were against them.

  “Explain yourself!” Kaleren exclaimed, stepping toward Godwill. Freela stepped with him. Their troops, in unison, armed their weapons and activated their suit shields. A shimmering orange glow interlocked with each additional suit, forming a wall around their squad, the Co-Governors, and Entarch.

  “We are so up the gravity well,” Cri whispered, pointing. The school’s force fences were active. Auto turrets pivoted inward and tracked back and forth across the crowd.

  Augh! Hadn’t I been pointing that out since we arrived? I scowled at my sister.

  “WHAT CAN HAPPEN?” I exclaimed and punched Cri’s shoulder, referencing her glib comment. “You NEVER ask that!” I braced for her return punch, but she flashed me a worried glance and nodded in agreement.

  “Shut up!” Mieant coughed. “Be ready to run.”

  “I am Jurisdictor Godwill,” he asserted as he marched up to where Kaleren, Freela, and the principal stood. He stopped at the guards’ perimeter, his own soldiers fanning out and around the Quadrant troops. He glanced at us, not five meters away, and then back to the Asrigards.

  “Move, now,” I whispered. As one, we took a step toward the crowd. Then another. There wasn’t much further to go before we could be hidden in a mass of wide-eyed, multicolored kids.

  “There is no Jurisdictor Godwill,” Freela said, frowning slightly. Principal Entarch had moved directly behind the Asrigards. The principal looked terrified. I would have believed her shocked look if I hadn’t witnessed her and Godwill teaming up against me in her office yesterday.