by Jasmine Walt
“Well, I don’t really know.” Yudi pauses, lighting up his first cigarette of the evening. “But you could say that it is in homage to Spider-Man.”
“Spider-Man?”
He nods. “A Spider-Man who spins his web between the tallest towers of Arkana and the highest mountain on the moon.”
“Ah! Arkana! That is the dream destination of most half lives, isn’t it?” Then, noticing the cigarette, Athira reaches out to fling it away. “When did you pick this awful habit?”
“Uh! I kind of like it…helps me think…create.”
“What is it with this artist stuff, Yudi? I thought you wanted to become a master of swords.”
“I am. Holding a paintbrush is very similar to holding a sword.” Noticing Athira’s disbelief, he offers over the brush. “Here, you try.”
“Me? No way.”
Yudi laughs at his father’s horrified expression. A canvas hides at the back of the room, and Athira walks toward it and pulls it out. It is a painting of a beautiful girl with haunted brown eyes in a delicate, heart shaped face framed by golden brown hair.
“Tiina—you still remember her.”
“This is how she would look as a teenager.” Yudi hesitates, not wanting to talk about her. “Father, why are we called half lives, anyway?”
“What a strange question. This is what happens when you get into this artistic stuff…” His finger raps the edge of the painting before Athira sets it down once more. “It’s because we are only half human, I guess.”
“You mean half mortal, half not? And if I am indeed Shaitan’s son, does that make me half god, half demon?”
“We can go on and on! Any which way you look at it, we are only half human.”
“But the other half, the more exciting one, the physically beautiful, therein reside the possibilities. No?”
“All it is, is that the other half is from some other planet, really.”
“The part of me that beats most.”
“How long will you continue denying your human existence?”
“Half human,” Yudi corrects him.
“Half life.” The conversation tires Athira.
“You are losing your temper often these days, Father.”
Then, his father strides across the room and nabs his ear. Yudi lets out a howl of pain as Athira twists it.
“And you are becoming more of a smartass every day. Just because you are taller than me doesn’t mean you can get away with your clever comments, young man.”
“Ow! Let go, Dad! You’re hurting me.”
Athira relents and Yudi rubs his ear, which turns red.
“Let that be a lesson.”
“Okay, okay! Just because you are my father doesn’t mean you have to be so boring, though.”
“You think I’m boring? In my day…,” his voice tapers off, and as if reminded of something, he turns and walks into the next room.
Before Yudi has time to wonder where his father went, Athira returns holding something.
“Here, take it!”
Yudi puts down his paintbrush, and after wiping his hand on the painting smock, he examines the rectangular object. “It’s beautiful! Where did you get it from?”
“It’s one of the few things I managed to save when we escaped from Ka Surya. There aren’t very many of these left in the galaxy, I imagine.” Athira’s voice cracks a little. After clearing his throat, he continues. “I don’t suppose you could keep it as a token from me?”
“It must be very valuable.” Yudi clutches the antique Ronson lighter. “I don’t get it. First you scold me for smoking, then you hand me a priceless lighter.”
“I am surprised myself, but I figure you are old enough, and I don’t know how many days we have left together.”
“Enough. Enough talk about dying.” In a rare gesture of affection, Yudi hugs him. “Thanks, Dad!”
Mind already on the excited reactions this latest gift will elicit from his friends, he plans how to show it off. It will appeal to the girls, too, no doubt.
Athira, however, closes his eyes tight as tears run down his cheeks.
That is one of the last memories Yudi has of Athira. A few weeks later, all that remains is the charred skeleton of the building where they had spent the last seven years of their life. It was gone just like that, with everything of the life he had built on Pluto.
As he gazes moodily at the lighter, he wonders if he might get over losing his father. The rest of his life spreads out before him as he stands on the terrace, and the enormity of the before and the after slice through him.
I may never sleep again. The dawn breaks.
First, “Tiina,” he says her name aloud, testing it. He wonders if she is still alive. And then there’s Athira. Numb at the thought of living without the two people dearest to him, his life is surreal, devoid of meaning. What should I live for, anyway?
Everything around him has grown distant. Perhaps this is all a bad dream and I will wake up to find myself back on Ka Surya; back with Tiina, with Athira, my life as a young boy with my favourite playmate, the lion cub, and my horse in the stables.
Broken hearted, he buries his face in his hands. The tears he had not allowed himself to cry earlier, both while leaving Ka Surya and at Athira’s funeral, run down his cheeks. He is all alone on Pluto.
The sun has climbed higher and its rays reflect off his parched lips as he lets the last drops of emotion run down his hands, his legs, and drip onto his feet. Of late, he finds he can calm the sadness for a few seconds on occasion, only for it to return stronger.
He wonders how long he can continue to stay sane in the aftermath of that terrible night when it all came undone. The raging fire tore a path through Pluto, burning everything, including his life.
“The irony,” he mutters. “Leaving Ka Surya to escape Shaitan, building a new life on another planet, only for nature to get us.”
Fires from lightning storms are common on Pluto. He had just never thought it would consume his father, and with him, his heart.
With a deep breath, he attempts to clear his head. Thunder grumbles in the distance, and lightning flashes somewhere else. It echoes the turmoil in his heart. Perhaps it is that simple? Just make sure it is my turn next…but how do I do that when lightning never strikes twice in the same place?
Too far gone in his own misery to think about death, he closes his eyes, opens his heart, and asks the universe if someone is out there who can help. He doesn’t want to be this alone ever again.
Yudi looks up when a shadow falls across him. A figure shines before him, suspended in midair, his white robes fluttering in the light breeze, a long beard as white as starlight hanging to the man’s sandal-covered toes.
“You took your time. I thought you’d never ask.” Mimir opens his arms.
Yudi walks into his embrace.
“Welcome to Arkana.” Mimir smiles, his eyes crinkling around the edges.
11
Tiina’s Journey: Java, 3016
Tiina’s space taxi groans as, with great effort, she zooms away from the normal lane used by smaller space-pods and into the upper highways; then higher into the night skies above them.
Silence greets her and the unusually bright stars in the distance are her only company for a few seconds. Then the stars lose their form, blending into one, and she goes higher, this time breaking the light barrier and moves into a different dimension. She is there only for a few minutes, but that is enough to take her off the radar of the air patrol cops giving chase.
Still high on adrenaline, Tiina heaves a relieved sigh. She relaxes enough to switch the space taxi back to the current dimension, making a huge boomerang-like arc through the night sky, retracing her steps through the stars, then to the upper airways reserved for the heavy-duty space vehicles, and finally back to the lower set of airways meant for lighter air transport.
All the airways have four lanes with traffic flowing in two lanes in each direction. She thanks her lucky stars that she has la
nded in the same direction as the traffic flow. As she struggles to keep the space-pod upright, she notices the hologram on the moving billboard space-pod, which is gliding slowly alongside the rest of the traffic.
“Mimir wants you,” it blares, making her wince at its decibels as she passes.
Her eyes are drawn to the hologram of the wizened old man, who looks like a wizard in his silvery robes and with his long white beard. He gazes right at her, a twinkle in his eyes as the hologram version of him points a finger at her.
A shiver runs through her as the speaking billboard continues. “Find yourself; enrol in the Academy of Half Lives and learn the ancient arts of destroying evil.”
Yeah! Right. One has to be really desperate to believe this load of nonsense!
After pushing it out of her mind, she sets the nose of the space-pod toward her favourite bar, the Wanch, intent on reaching it before the end of happy hour. Before she can lock in her destination, her space-pod groans once more and continues its downward descent. Embracing gravity, it passes by the crumbling shells of the high-rises of the city of Java, and drops through screaming vehicles, which brake and honk in protest. The pod falls at a terrifying speed, and she shuts her eyes as the ground races toward her.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry I pushed you into the next dimension. I know you are not equipped for it. Please, please, keep me safe, and I promise I’ll never do it again.”
The usual habit of talking to her vehicle and closing her eyes takes over, and she prays for an easy death. The taxi hits ground level almost leisurely, bouncing once, twice, screeching to a halt in front of a massive construction site.
She has no idea which part of the city she has landed in, but at least she is still alive. Not trusting herself enough to open her eyes, Tiina expels the air she has been holding in a rush and leans forward to rest her forehead on the wheel. She wonders when she will learn to keep within the air-speed limits enforced by the new government of Java. Somehow, once up in the air, she always seemed to lose track of time and speed—everything but the thrill of flying.
If she keeps this up, she risks being grounded, and that isn’t exactly conducive to her current job as a space taxi driver. Of course, it is a simple matter to bribe her way through it. And spend what little I earn on that.
She sighs. As if in response, a last jolt shudders through her bones as the space-pod settles. The various rattles and moans from the vehicle fade and her ears pick up the massive drills digging outside.
About ten years ago, it was Java’s turn to be plundered by Shaitan. At least he left the planet intact, she thinks as memories of her destroyed home run through her mind.
She escaped Ka Surya to land in a different place. As usual, Shaitan carried out a thorough job of destroying the planet, leaving the survivors with barely enough to live on.
It had been a few years before the Javanese had managed to organise some kind of governing body. With the zeal of the newly converted, however, they had put in place some stringent laws, including the speed limits she chafed at.
Java is a planet-city and is the smallest planet in the solar system—small enough for the government to rule it like a city and control everything much more efficiently than other planets, she supposes. It means things work on the planet, and for that she is grateful. Still, she hates some of the restrictions.
It was only as recently as five years ago that the government of Java got its act to together enough to rebuild homes for its survivors. The air traffic had, however, grown exponentially. Many who had no permanent homes had opted to live in their space transport vehicles. It gave them interplanetary mobility while allowing for easy escape in case of another attack by Shaitan.
Tiina gathers herself and steps out of the space-pod, still recovering from the sudden drop. Bulldozers are hard at work clearing the debris from skyscrapers destroyed by Shaitan.
Is there hope?
They tear down and clear away the empty skin of yet another destroyed building.
As always, she is fascinated by the sight of these giant machines at work. She rises to the tips of her feet and, putting her arms up in the air, stretches to her full height, sighing as some of the tension from her neck drains away. In a smooth movement, she bends down to touch her toes, extending the muscles in her hamstrings and calves. Her standard black neoprene jumpsuit stretches, clinging to her every curve, ending in her one concession to female vanity—thigh-high red boots with high padded heels that give her height a much needed boost while being comfortable to run in.
A gust of air blows through the area, whipping her thick hair around her shoulders. It is short in front, where she has cut off the strands in an attempt to style it by herself, and she pushes it away from her eyes.
As she surveys the site, she spots a patch of red that fades in and out. It is just ahead of her, not far from one of the massive machines. Curious, she walks toward it, coughing from the dust from the site. While fanning her hand in front of her face, she tries to create a pocket of fresh air to breathe from, then coughs again and tears run from her eyes, stinging from the fine particles. As the dust settles, she blinks the grains out of her eyes and stares through the haze, making out what looks like the shape of a small girl running among the broken pillars.
For a minute, her heart lifts at the thought of the little girl being Maya. Yet she knows it cannot be. Too many years have passed since her escape from Ka Surya, and Maya, like herself, would be a grown woman now, almost sixteen. Still, finding her twin in the worst possible condition is something she lives in fear of.
Pushing the thought from her mind, she runs into the demolition site. Part of her registers that in doing so, she is breaking another rule. As if echoing her, a robotic voice blares, “Citizen of Java, for your own safety, step away from the demolition site.”
She shrugs, adding this to her long list of crimes. Almost as an aside, she pulls out her sword from its sheath on her back and puts on a burst of speed, hoping to be in and out of the site before any patrols arrive.
As she gets closer, she spots the girl’s tiny tail swishing from side-to-side and realises she is not a half life, but a catun, a cross between cats and humans normally found on another planet just outside the solar system. The female catun are the best of both worlds. Beautiful human facial features, big eyes, lustrous hair, a graceful gait, and characteristic long, slim, feline bodies. Not surprisingly, they are much sought after by flesh traders.
Tiina slows and walks with care to the catun-girl, but the catun shies away, her body shivering with fright. Tiina comes around a fallen pillar where the catun girl is hiding. After sliding the sword back into its sheath, she stretches both arms toward the terrified girl. In a flash, the little one reacts, spitting in fury and digging her claws into the fabric covering Tiina’s arms.
“Ouch!” Tiina swears as pinpricks of pain shoot through her, but persists in speaking in a soft voice, trying to calm the catun down. “Come on, sweetie; we’ve got to get you out of here. You really don’t want to be in the path of the bulldozers, and I promise, you don’t want the flesh-traders to catch you.”
The tone of her voice seems to work, for the spitting subsides, and the catun clings to her with all the strength of an alley cat. Her eyes look into Tiina’s, and her small lips scrunch into a plea as a mewl escapes her.
Emboldened, Tiina ignores the pain from the girl’s death-grip and hoists the catun girl from the ground. Surprisingly, she is as light as a feather. Once back at the small space-pod taxi, Tiina straps first the girl in, then herself.
As she takes off, the ever-vigilant air patrol spots her and gives chase with flashing lights and screaming sirens. Tiina zooms off with extra strong propulsion. In her hurry to give her pursuers the slip, she turns onto the wrong lane of the airway and into oncoming traffic. While dodging oncoming crafts, she curses her luck. It’s like she has made a career out of engaging the police.
This time she manages to direct her space taxi to her destination, and
brings the craft to rest in front of the Wanch without any of the police pursuing her. There is utter silence followed by a loud pop as one of the door panels next to her comes undone and falls off with a crash. The entire craft collapses a few more inches. Grimacing, she opens the door on her side, which also crashes to the ground. A hysterical giggle bursts through her lips as she looks at the fallen door. She closes her eyes, lets out a deep breath, and calms her heart, which is fluttering as if she just downed a few cans of her favourite high-adrenaline asteroid nectar.
Not surprising, as this is by far the longest high-impact journey I have experienced, since, well…since I escaped from Ka Surya.
She pushes the thoughts of her charred mother planet away and squeezes out from below the dilapidated driver’s section. Then, carefully replacing the fallen spacecraft door panel, she limps to the other side, pushes open the door, and the catun-girl leaps into her arms, resuming her earlier position of a wrap-around koala.
Cuddling her, Tiina asks, “What’s your name?”
There is no reply.
She gestures to herself. “I am Tiina. What’s your name?” She taps the girl on her chest.
The girl blinks, long and slow, like a lazy kitten. “Mini.”
“Mini?” A half smile breaks out on her lips. The name is so apt and fitting for the tiny bundle of fur.
Tiina cuddles her and walks into the Wanch, where she plops onto a barstool. After catching the eye of the bartender, she orders a shot of whiskey and some milk for Mini. Before placing the milk on the counter, she manages to untangle the little girl’s hands from around her waist and plunks her down on the nearest seat.
Just as she’s about to order, she stops and gawks down at little Mini, amazed that the glass has already been licked dry. “Hey, you finished all your milk really fast.”
She is met with an unblinking stare.
“Are you still hungry?”
Mini does not reply.
Tiina beckons the bartender. “Can I get some cookies, please?”
The bartender gapes at her, a spotted glass in one hand and the tap of some micro-brew in the other.
