“JT was telling me how my little concoction was making him feel much better.”
“Golden!” Max exclaimed. “I knew it was a good idea to come here.”
“You must take some home with you,” Tic insisted. “In case you feel a relapse.”
“Thanks,” I replied.
We sat and talked with Tic for some time. She was so much different from Madame Lee, although I sometimes caught glimpses of a ferocious warrior hidden in her chiseled bone structure and jet-black skin. Tic told us she had lived on Orbis since before the Citizens’ uprising on Orbis 3. That’s when she moved to Murat and began living like a knudnik. I was interested, but my thoughts began to drift away from the conversation. I was thinking about what to do with Max. Would she find out on her own? She wouldn’t let me live like this, even if I explained to her that it wasn’t that bad. Theylor told me that the symptoms would get worse the farther I traveled from Ketheria, but I figured I could live with throwing up every once in a while. Besides, I could always get more of Tic’s magic drink.
The truth was, all I wanted was to be with Max. The fact that my genetic structure had been altered to help protect Ketheria was not going to get in the way. Whoever did this to me had no right to do so. I would protect my sister, but I would have my own life as well. I had always protected her in the past, and I didn’t see why I couldn’t continue to do so. Ketheria had enough Space Jumpers around her, anyway. One more wasn’t going to help. I would keep this a secret from Max and have my own life. At least that was my plan.
By the time Hach had returned from his business dealings, my plan seemed to be working. I had programmed the chow synth to create more of Tic’s drink, and I drank it in private at the start of every cycle. I also tested Theylor’s distance theory and began going out with the other kids to distribute taps around Murat. The only new symptom was a sharp headache stabbing at my temples as I ventured farther from home. It was still plenty of distance to lead my own life, despite what the Keepers had warned.
The guilt, however, was something I couldn’t escape. Ketheria must have known that I had no intention of becoming the Tonat. She was a telepath. But if she was disappointed in me, she never let it show. In fact, it seemed to me that Ketheria did her best to accept my decision; she was always assuring me that she was well protected. I made her promise to inform me if anything seemed out of the ordinary or dangerous. The thing was, Ketheria seemed so loved by everyone around her that I didn’t understand why there was so much worry about her safety, anyway. Still, to demonstrate my ability to protect her, I made alliances with the knudniks who served her, cleaned her room, and worked in the building. I asked them to report anything suspicious. They eagerly agreed to help, but only reported that Ketheria spent every cycle with the Nagools. When I questioned her, she said that she was learning about the Universe and preparing for the Cycle of Witnessing. She never left the building, and the Space Jumpers always guarded her door. It seemed like a boring existence to me, but Ketheria looked happy and she was safe. That’s all that mattered.
“There are some in the universe who are appalled by your sister’s very existence,” Hach told me when I asked about her security a few cycles later. He was dining in his room and had asked me to join him. “Her existence is an affront to their own beliefs, and they refuse to see the truth.”
“So you believe in it too?” I asked.
“There’s nothing to believe. OIO does not ask you to have faith in anything or follow anyone; it simply is. They say OIO is a seamless part of your own existence.”
“I still don’t get it.”
“You don’t have to. Listen to me. It is believed that the Ancients made the first softwires.”
“Made?”
Hach stuffed a piece of meat in his mouth and shook his head. “I don’t know folklore. Don’t drill me on it, but it’s common knowledge that the Ancients gave them the technology for their belts, and we know the Ancients picked the first Trust — that council of Jumpers who now govern and train all Space Jumpers. You see, the Ancients knew that there would be many individuals in this universe, even believers, who would see any Scion as a threat. They have been right in the past. I’m afraid you can’t fight this.”
“I’ve heard that,” I mumbled. “So you’re not upset with all these Space Jumpers hanging around here?”
“I’m not, but I do worry for the Keepers. They are running a huge risking by parading them in the open like this. I can’t help but feel they are taunting the Trading Council. The Keepers cannot afford a war. We’ve made certain of that.”
“Then why do you allow the Space Jumpers to remain here?”
“I suppose some things are worth the risk. At least the Keepers feel that way,” he said, stabbing another piece of meat with his fork and winking at me. It was nice to have Hach back.
A knudnik entered the room. “Your guests have arrived,” he announced.
Hach swallowed and said, “Good. Have them wait. I’m not finished with the Tonat just yet.”
The thin alien nodded before leaving. Hach put down his fork and knife and said, “I know you’re not happy with this arrangement, but as I’m sure you are well aware, you are in no position to deny me.”
“I’ve been in Murat. I’ve passed out the taps. I’ve done everything that has been asked of me.”
Hach nodded. “The Scion’s first public appearance is a few cycles away. The Cycle of Witnessing. I certainly can’t have a bunch of Space Jumpers lining the stage, now, can I? Your presence will be required.”
“Why? These people worship her. No one is going to hurt her,” I complained.
Hach leaned on his elbows. “On the planet of Sorlinda, maybe ninety million light-years from here, a very advanced society discovered that a Scion was among their ranks. They rejoiced. They celebrated. As far as they were concerned, they were the chosen ones, but as they waited for the Scion to fully awaken, others on the planet decided that they, too, were worthy of this title. If the Universe had chosen one Sorlindian, why shouldn’t it choose them all?”
Hach grabbed another hunk of meat from the tray in front of him and plopped it onto his plate. He sliced it as he spoke. “Come the Cycle of Witnessing, a powerful arm of its government seized the Scion and ceremonially sliced her up, serving her flesh for consumption to anyone in attendance at the Witnessing. They passed around pieces of her on plates, just as you might do at a banquet.” Hach shoved a piece of meat into his mouth for emphasis. My stomach rolled over once, but it had nothing to do with my illness.
“Where was the Tonat?” I asked.
“They had tricked the Tonat and drugged him. He was unconscious during the entire event. When he awoke, he was so enraged that he slaughtered every single person who had attended the Witnessing, and there were many. He piled the dead bodies in a pyramid on the exact spot where the Scion had died. Then he stole their precious metals and entombed the bodies in a silver shrine so no one would ever forget what they had done to the Scion. It was quite ghastly. In fact, the Tonat is now considered a monster in Sorlindian folklore.”
“The Keepers never spoke of this,” I said.
“I can see why. Even your own people have destroyed their share of Scions. One fable talks of a Scion who was nailed to a piece of wood while he was still alive; those who worshipped him stood around and watched him suffer. He died eventually, of course.” Hach sipped from a goblet. “Shall I go on?”
I shook my head. “You’re just trying to scare me,” I said.
“I know you want to live your own life, but believe me when I tell you that your sister needs you. I do not trust the Council. Do it for your sister, Ketheria, not for the Scion.”
That was a dirty trick. “Fine,” I said. “But since I’m not trained as a Space Jumper, I don’t know what I’ll do if anything happens at the Witnessing.”
“Presentation will be our best defense.” Hach said, and stood up, pushing his chair back. “People fear the Tonat,” he called out as he l
eft the room. “Use that.”
The Cycle of Witnessing was sort of like Ketheria’s coming-out party. Anyone who had heard rumors about the Scion was now allowed to see her firsthand (if they paid the fee, of course). I stood back and watched as the corridors of Hach’s newly created temple buzzed with gossip and the workers scrambled about under Queykay’s precise, military-like instruction. He oversaw every detail, including the new robes he ordered us to wear. It was clear that the Trading Council wanted everyone to know that they were in charge of the Scion.
The new cream-colored robes were detailed with a broad, deep red collar marked with the OIO symbol. My outfit was different, though. Instead of a robe, I was given bloodred pants that matched the collars on everyone’s robe. My pants flared behind my legs, leaving a short train of fabric as I walked. I wore a belt marked with the OIO symbol and a long, double-breasted jacket lined with gold buttons, each one sporting the Orbis emblem.
“I think you look . . . great!” Max exclaimed, tugging at the jacket as I got dressed in my room.
“I look ridiculous,” I complained.
“No, you don’t. In fact, you look impressive.”
Max put her arms around me and kissed me.
“What’s that for?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she said, blushing. “Just because.”
“Well, your robe looks very nice, too. You wear it . . . well,” I said, searching for the proper word.
“You think?” Max said, rubbing her hands over the material. It was so hard for me to compliment her without sounding like a malf. Did I tell her how much I liked the way the material stretched over her legs as she walked? Or the way it clung to her waist? It sounded stupid in my head. I couldn’t imagine saying it out loud. I was staring at her and she saw me. Max kissed me again. “Thanks,” she whispered in my ear.
Theodore charged into my room. “Have you seen all the people out there?” he exclaimed. “The place is already full, and it doesn’t start until the next spoke. No wonder the Trading Council wants to charge for this.” He turned to Max. “Queykay also wants us to hand these out among the crowds.”
Theodore held up four huge sacks filled with more taps. The bags were three times as big as anything we had ever handed out in Murat.
“Wow!” Max remarked. “Where is he, anyway?”
“Not a clue. These were left outside my door with a note.”
“We better get going. It will take all the time we have to hand them out,” Theodore said.
“Queykay left me a note with my clothes. He asked me to stay with Ketheria,” I told them.
Max frowned. “Aw, come with us. Please. I was getting used to you in your new clothes.”
“Yeah, that’s way more golden than what we have to wear,” Theodore added.
I looked at Max and Theodore, with those huge bags of taps. “What can it hurt?” I said. I’d get to the stage in time. No one was going to carve up Ketheria and feed her to the Citizens. I would much rather be with Max than stand around like some stupid trophy. My stomach reacted to my thoughts, turning over once before settling. “Let me grab something, and then we’ll drop by Ketheria’s room before I help you with the taps.”
I made sure not to let Max see me chug Tic’s drink from the chow synth. The liquid’s effect on my stomach was instant, and I was thankful for my encounter with the Belaran even though her warning about Max crept back into my head. I will resist their genetic tampering, I said to myself. I don’t care what they’re trying to do. I will live my own life, and right now I want to be with Max.
Theodore handed off two of the sacks, one to Grace and one to Dante (I think that’s what he was calling himself at the moment). Then we stepped outside with the remaining bags. I stopped when I saw the crowd outside waiting to see Ketheria. I think every alien from all four rings was standing in the open courtyard. I looked out and saw more aliens pouring over the concrete walls and stuffing themselves into the walkway leading to the building. Over the farthest points of the audience, huge O-dats floated in the sky as everyone was straining to see the platform extending from the roof and over the crowd.
“How many people do you think are here?” Max wondered aloud.
“More than I ever imagined,” I mumbled.
I walked next to Theodore while he handed out the taps to aliens thrusting their hands toward him. No one pushed or grabbed at Theodore, but you could tell they were anxious to get any information they could. As I walked through the crowd, people whispered and moved out of my way. Max stayed at my side, scooping taps from her sack and handing them to anyone who wanted them. Theodore then fell in behind.
“We’re going to need more than this,” Theodore declared.
“Can’t they share?” I asked.
“I don’t think they want to. They keep these taps like souvenirs.”
I tried to read the faces. Some immediately averted their eyes when I looked at them, and I even caught the odd daring sneer. What did they think I was going to do? Chop them all up and eat them? I imagined parents threatening their unruly offspring with horrible stories about the Tonat. Would I ever live up to those fears? Impossible, I thought. I mean, look at the outfit I was wearing. Who would be afraid of me?
A Choi stepped in front of me and grabbed my hand with her scaly paw. The familiar knobby stumps poking out from her shoulder blades reminded me of Weegin, our first Guarantor. The alien rubbed my hand along her face, mumbling something I couldn’t understand, an odd display of affection by a Citizen over a knudnik. Did they realize I was still a knudnik? I stopped and looked at Max. What do I do now? my eyes pleaded, but Max only shrugged. With my other hand, I stroked the top of the Choi’s bumpy head. Others, seeing my reaction, poured in around us as if by invitation. They pawed at my shoulders, my hair, and even my legs. A sea of hands engulfed Max and me, reaching out to touch any part they could reach. There was no way to move.
“Stop!” I shouted.
The aliens pulled back as if I had used some sort of invisible battering ram. The Choi in front of me started crying. Dirty yellow tears puddled at my feet, and I moved around her to get away. I had no idea what to do.
“This is creepy,” Max whispered.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said.
“What about Theodore?”
“He’ll understand.” I turned to him and called out, “Theodore, we’ll be back in a bit. We’ll meet near the right side of the platform when Ketheria comes out.”
“Hey!” Theodore tried to protest, but the aliens reaching for their taps closed in and smothered him. Max and I slipped into the crowd.
“I feel bad leaving him like that,” Max said.
“He’ll be fine,” I assured her, straining to locate a private spot among the throng of aliens. I grabbed Max’s hand and pulled her along as the crowd parted for us.
“Where are we going to go?” she asked.
“Anywhere,” I replied.
Beneath one of the huge O-dats floating over the crowd, I found a tower holding speakers and smaller O-dats; it was draped in some sort of black material. I poked my head under the cloth. Nothing but the metal frame. Perfect, I thought. I lifted the cloth and motioned Max to get under. She laughed and looked over her shoulder. It felt good to be doing something I wanted to do.
Inside, the light barely penetrated the thick material. “I can hardly see you,” I whispered, but Max only chuckled in response.
“Use your hands then,” she said, and placed mine on her face. I ran my fingers around the edges of her face, across her cheeks, and along her lips. We were silent as I explored her face, but I swear I could have started a fire in the space between my fingers and her soft skin. Her warm breath seemed to quicken against the palm of my hand and then I cupped the back of her neck.
“Kiss me,” she said, and I obliged.
We remained tangled in each other’s arms, invisible to the pageantry that surrounded us. I felt happy, truly happy. This was all I wanted — to be alone wi
th Max. We could have been hidden under those drapes for a parsec or an entire light-year. I had no idea. Time was not relevant at that moment; I just wanted more of it.
Without warning I felt like a Neewalker had dug his claws into me and ripped out my stomach. I pushed away from Max and doubled over in the dark.
“What’s wrong?” Max cried.
“I don’t know,” I croaked. I could hardly breathe.
“JT! Are you sick again?”
Clawing at the fabric, I dug my way into fresh air. The light slammed into my eyes with a searing bolt of pain to my brain, and I screamed. Or maybe Max did — I couldn’t tell. I stared into the crowd and a found a Neewalker, directly in front of me, setting up a long-range plasma rifle. I cried out, lunging toward the creature, but found myself with my hands wrapped around the throat of a terrified knudnik, scrambling to get away from me. I spun around, but the Neewalker was gone. What’s happening to me?
“JT! What are you doing?” Max cried.
The pain seized my brain again and squeezed mercilessly. Another flash, as if someone pointed the sun directly into my eyes, but this time I saw Queykay running along the rooftop.
“Queykay!” I screamed, and pushed through the crowd, stumbling toward him.
Max was at my side. “JT, Queykay’s not here. Talk to me. What’s happening?”
I looked at the roof. She was right. Queykay was gone. Then another flash. More pain.
“JT! Talk to me. Please!”
I turned to Max and saw a wormhole pirate standing behind her. Max saw me staring and spun around. Then I saw another and another. The pirates revealed weapons cloaked at their hip.
“Max, something’s wrong!” I yelled.
“I see that.” She grabbed me by the shoulders. “Look at me, JT. Tell me what’s happening to you.”
“I’m seeing things. It has something to do with Ketheria — I’m certain of it.”
And as I spoke her name, my sister stepped out onto the rooftop platform.
“I have to get to her, Max!”
I lunged forward as the crowd around me broke free like a solar flare. The sound was deafening. A wave of people pushed toward the platform, and Max was swallowed up in the rush.
The Softwire: Awakening on Orbis 4 Page 8
