by J. N. Chaney
Ludo poured a bowl of soup and handed it to Ysa, Terry, Talo, and finally himself. The order of delivery had been this way since the week following Terry’s arrival. At first, the food had been given to Terry, because at the time he’d been a guest. Since he was now considered a member of the family, according to Ludo, he ate second. Talo was next, because he was the youngest, and finally Ludo, because he was the one preparing the food. Talo usually cooked the meals, but Ludo occasionally stepped into the role of homemaker. He seemed to enjoy taking care of people. Such a ritual was a far cry from the cafeteria line of the academy but not completely dissimilar. People still waited their turns, depending on their positions within the society. The idea of respect, it seemed, was not unique to Earth.
After dinner while Talo cleaned, Terry helped Ludo put together some supplies for the upcoming hunt in a few weeks. This would be the eighth such hunt for Terry, so he was fairly accustomed to the routine.
As Ludo prepared one of the many traps they would be using, Terry stuffed a bag with several small knives and some rope. “Will you join us tonight for meditation?” asked Ludo when he finished wrapping the trap. He often asked this question, never deterred by Terry’s repeated declination.
In truth, Terry had been meaning to try the practice out for a while now, but the prospect of getting involved with another culture’s religion felt unsettling. He didn’t want to offend his friend by doing something wrong or expressing his lack of faith. But he also didn’t want to keep declining him. “I don’t know, Ludo,” said Terry at last. “I’ve never done it before. I wouldn’t know how.”
Ludo smiled. “It‘s okay! I will show you. It’s easy to start.”
Terry considered this. It wouldn’t kill him to give it a shot, he supposed. And after everything Ludo and his family had done, he owed it to them. “Alright, I’ll try.”
Ludo’s smile grew wider, and he beat his chest three times. “Wonderful!” he exclaimed. “You will learn to fly very soon, my friend. Wait and see!”
******
Terry, Ludo, and Talo sat together, preparing for the meditation.
Ysa had gone to a separate room per usual to carry out her own version of whatever was about to take place.
Terry never had the opportunity to watch them do this, mostly because he didn’t want to risk insulting anyone by staring and not participating. He’d seen the practice once before back in the woods when the redheaded man had closed his eyes and stopped breathing. Looked like he was dead.
No way I can do that, he thought.
Terry waited as Ludo lit a small fire in the center of the room. It burned with a blue flame, a result of the type of leaves. The three of them sat close, facing each other, their legs crossed. “The fire is our guide,” said Ludo. “Let it lift you. Let the heat carry your wings.”
Terry didn’t have wings, but he nodded anyway.
“Next we must close our eyes and focus our breaths. Look at how Talo does it. See the way he is calm and still? His breathing is steady; his mind is at peace.”
“What’s the goal here?” asked Terry. “What are we trying to do?”
“The goal is that there is no goal,” explained Ludo, smiling. “When the mind is quieted, we are free of worry, free of anger and fear. Only through peace can we experience true happiness. This is how we fly.”
Terry was pretty sure the term flying didn’t mean what Ludo thought it did. Oh, well. Chalk it up to translation problems.
Terry followed Talo’s lead in the exercises, trying to copy the way he breathed. Occasionally, they would perform soft chants, repeating certain sounds which carried no real meaning.
According to Ludo, the purpose was to clear one’s mind of all thought, concern, worry, stress, and emotion. “Be like the tree,” said Ludo, his eyes closed. “The tree does not worry, nor does it weep, nor is it quick to anger. Instead, it simply is, and nothing more.” He took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. “Let your skin become your bark so that it might shield you.”
Terry spent the rest of the hour copying what he saw, but he found it difficult to remain still. His mind was all over the place, and he wasn’t used to sitting in such an awkward position. Whenever he shut his eyes, his thoughts wandered. He pictured his friends and imagined what they might be doing. Whether they were safe. He thought about the men from the woods. The redheaded man and the one with the purple eyes. He thought about the abandoned city under the mountain and the machines still there. He thought about his sister and how old she must be.
In trying not to, he thought about everything.
******
Ludo’s Farm, Kant
November 29, 2350
Terry sat with Ludo and Talo, taking breaths and trying his best to focus on the meditation practices. He’d been at this for a while but hadn’t made much progress.
Ludo spent the hour teaching him a new mantra, which he then recited many times while focusing on his breathing exercises. Terry wondered if he would ever move beyond breathing and chanting. Ludo and Talo could each do the same as the redheaded man, slowing their heartbeats to an almost dead state.
When Terry asked about this, Ludo told him to wait and see. “Soon you will go with us,” he told him. “We will build a palace for you, too.”
Again, Terry was at a loss. A palace? What was this? They lived on a farm in the middle of a valley. “Wait and see,” he told him again. “Soon.”
So Terry breathed and chanted, waiting until he saw whatever Ludo saw, waiting for his chance to learn about the palace.
Until today, when he sat there in the meditation room, chanting a phrase for the thousandth time. This was when it happened. The entire world went dark.
An empty sea of thoughtlessness.
In a fraction of a moment, Terry entered the state in which he drew his strength, where time slowed, and his senses were magnified. In each of the other instances where he had done this, he’d felt a thrill of exhilaration, a power so intense it drove him to take action, to nearly want to scream.
Now, it was different. Now, he felt nothing. All of it was gone, replaced by empty stillness, a void of his own making. There were no sounds blaring in the distance, no need to drown them out or pull himself back. He was simply there, quiet and indifferent, trapped inside a sea of nothing, floating gently, and waiting…
Floating…
Floating…
Floating…
Brother…
His eyes snapped open, a surge of energy filled him, and he gasped, falling backward and hitting the wall.
Ludo ran to him, grabbing his shoulders and holding him. “Are you alright?” he asked.
Beads of sweat poured down Terry’s face, filling his eyes with a sharp burn. His chest was heaving. His heart felt like it was going to explode. “What the hell was that?” he said quickly.
“What did you see?” asked Ludo.
Terry licked his lips. He was suddenly so thirsty. “It was so quiet. Everything was so…it was like I was empty…”
Ludo nodded. “This is very good!” he exclaimed.
“What?” asked Terry.
“You have cleared your mind. This is the first step to finding chakka. The first step to flying. This is a great moment for you, my friend!” He let out a roar of laughter. “It takes others years, but you have done it so quickly. This is a great day!”
Once Terry was relaxed, Ludo helped him to his feet, and together they went to the main foyer. There, they feasted in celebration of Terry’s accomplishment. Ludo and Talo recounted the experience to Ysa, who smiled and nodded, a rare sign of approval.
But while the night was good and filled with joy, Terry’s thoughts circled the few seconds he’d spent in the dark. There had been a moment, right before he woke. He’d heard something, a voice, but he couldn’t remember. He couldn’t—
A cold chill ran through him, and his stomach turned into a knot. Why did he feel this way? What was he missing?
/>
It’s nothing, he told himself, repeating the words like his own personal mantra.
It’s nothing.
It’s nothing.
It’s...
Chapter 12
Ortego Outpost File Logs
Play Audio File 373
Recorded: January 05, 2351
CURIE: I’m sorry, Doctor Prescott, but what you’re proposing simply isn’t possible.
PRESCOTT: Of course it is, Curie. Have your mechanic package one of the Framling Coils and send it home to Central. We’ve given you plenty of time, and the board is tired of waiting.
CURIE: In case you haven’t noticed, we’re dealing with a containment issue at the moment. My entire team is working nonstop to get this taken care of. We don’t have time to—
PRESCOTT: You’ll have to make time. I’m not giving you an option here. This is an order straight from the board, including Doctor Tremaine.
CURIE: I’m telling you it’s not possible. Didn’t you read the reports? We’re building coils as fast as we can, but we need every single one to keep the radiation in check. If you really want us to work faster, I suggest you send me a few more engineers to assist Bartholomew. Otherwise, you’ll just have to wait.
PRESCOTT: What was that? Are you getting an attitude with me, Curie? Don’t forget I’m your superior, and I can—
CURIE: Go tell the board. Yeah, I know. Go ahead. Play them this tape. I don’t care. I’ve got more to worry about right now than you getting pissed at me. Or haven’t you been paying attention?
PRESCOTT: Now, you listen to me, you little—
CURIE: I don’t have time for this.
PRESCOTT: Curie! Don’t you hang up on—
End Audio File
Ortego Reconstruction Outpost
January 05, 2351
Mei and her team sat in the conference tent getting ready to have their evening meeting. Zoe, Bart, Sophie, and John, who had fully recovered by now from his radiation exposure, were all in attendance. Dr. Tabata, as usual, had opted to study the domesticated kitobora instead.
Mei brought up a map of the Ortego site and the surrounding radiation zone. Several dots littered the grid to indicate where each of the Framling Coils had been placed. As of today, they’d managed to construct and install sixteen of them with increasing ease and success. “Before we get into it, can I get a status check on coil three?” she asked.
Sophie nodded. “Up and running, ma’am. We resolved the problem a few hours ago.”
“Great. Any updates on your end, Bart?”
“I should be done with coil seventeen tomorrow afternoon,” he said. “I’ll start the next immediately.”
“No hiccups on this one?”
“So far, none, but we’re running low on parts. I put in a request to Komodo today for more. Walters told me he’d have what I needed in three days.”
“Just in time for Zoe to make her supply run. Perfect.”
“Yay,” said Zoe, rolling her eyes.
“What about the flippies?” asked Mei.
“They’re good. They installed the last coil in under an hour. Can’t get much better than that,” said Zoe.
John stretched out his arms. “Better not let those little guys break. They’re all we got.”
“Relax,” said Zoe, waving her hand at him. “I check them every night.”
Mei was thrilled to have the flippies back. After John successfully installed the first coil, Zoe was able to get close enough to remotely activate a few of the robots and call them home. Unfortunately, not all of them made the trip.
Since the radiation hit Mei and Travis without warning, they didn’t get a chance to power any the flippies down. The batteries eventually died, leaving them in their various places, including the underground ruins. Even if Zoe’s signal could somehow reach them, the robots couldn’t power on, making them little more than fancy hunks of metal until someone could retrieve them.
Thankfully, two rarely used flippies remained in hibernation mode inside the work tent. After activating them and getting the pair back to camp, Zoe repurposed them to carry and install all of the coils. Since the robots took no damage from the radiation, it made the job much easier and far less dangerous. However, these particular flippies were early alpha models and largely incomplete. Unlike Mortimer and Jefferson, Travis had never retrofitted them with FlexCrete, nor had he completed their programming. Zoe spent much of her time working on them, but she wasn’t Travis. She ran into problems constantly. Maybe this was why Zoe had chosen to call them Dee and Dum after the famously stupid twins from Alice in Wonderland.
Mei turned to her assistant. “Sophie, anything to add?”
Sophie nodded slightly and went to the large map, resting with her hands behind her back. “As you can see, the coils have actively halted the spread of radiation. With the installation of every new device, we reduce the ambient radiation significantly. However, the levels near and inside the Ortego site remain unchanged. I had hoped the flow would slow or stop by now, but it seems the problem only persists. It is entirely possible that the radiation will increase to the point where the coils are no longer adequate enough to stop the flow.” She glanced at Mei. “I strongly suggest we begin looking for new solutions, ma’am.”
“And I agree,” said Mei. She looked around the table. “Any suggestions?”
Zoe scratched her neck. “If we can get access to the site again, we can reactivate Mortimer and retrieve the rest of those Ortego Disks from the basement. We might find something there.”
“How long before we can go there again?” asked Bart.
Sophie checked her pad. “We’ll need several more coils. I’d suggest eight. Ten to be safe. We’ll probably have to keep erecting new ones as the radiation levels continue to rise.”
Mei nodded. “Bart, can you fill the order?”
He took a moment. “It’s doable, but I’ll need another week.”
“Fine,” said Mei. “Keep me posted.” Mei tapped her pad, and the large screen turned off. “We don’t have a lot of time, just so you all know.”
“Why?” asked Zoe. “Is the radiation spreading faster than—”
Mei waved her hand. “Nothing like that.”
“Then what?”
“I pissed Prescott off pretty bad this morning. There’s a good chance he’s going to report me. I don’t know what will happen, but I thought I should tell you.”
“Are you saying you could get kicked off the project?” asked Zoe.
“It’s one possibility. I don’t know.”
“Screw that guy,” said Bart. “We’ll go above his head if he tries anything.”
“I’m already planning on it,” said Mei. “I promise. They’ll have to drag me kicking and screaming before I abandon this mission.”
******
Ortego Reconstruction Outpost
January 06, 2351
Mei stood with Zoe a quarter kilometer from the Ortego site. They set up a transmitter on the bed of the dirt cab in order to stay in contact with Dee and Dum as the two robots installed another coil. Given their close proximity to the radiation zone, Sophie had insisted they wear rad suits. Neither of them complained.
“Dee’s planting the coil now,” said Zoe, hovering over her computer.
“Good,” said Mei. She leaned against the side of the cab and stared in the direction of the excavation site. It wouldn’t be long before she had access to the ruins again, but the radiation would still be there. As Sophie had pointed out at the meeting, the coils were only a temporary fix. Since then, she’d spent fruitless hours trying to think of a solution, all without success. The gamma rays seemed to come from nowhere with no clear defining source. If she didn’t solve the puzzle soon—
“Done,” said Zoe.
“Good work,” said Mei.
“Calling the twins back now.”
“Hopefully, Bart can have another one ready in a day or two,” s
aid Mei.
“With me helping him, he’ll get it done,” she said, closing the computer case.
An incoming call lit up Mei’s visor. “Doctor Curie,” erupted a voice in her ear. It sounded like Sophie.
“Yes?” she answered. “We’re about to leave. Can this wait?”
“I don’t think so, ma’am. There’s a call for you from Central.”
“Who is it?”
A pause. “It has Prescott’s ID attached, but I can’t open the channel. Looks like it’s restricted to you.”
Mei silently cursed. Not Prescott again. She wagered this couldn’t be good. “Fine. Put him through.”
The line went dead for a few seconds as the call connected. A nervous tickle ran through Mei’s stomach as she anticipated the different scenarios she was about to witness. After several seconds, she heard a soft click followed by a swarm of background noise. At its forefront, heavy breathing.
“Hello?” said Mei. “Doctor Prescott?”
The person on the other end smacked their lips together. “Not quite, honey dear.” It was a woman. Her voice was scratchy, almost tired.
“Who is this? Where’s Doctor Prescott?”
“He’s occupied,” said the woman. “This is Doctor Abigale Tremaine.”
Mei froze in place at the sound of the name. Abigale Tremaine, head of the Science Division. She replaced Doctor Byrne a year ago, but Mei never had the opportunity to meet or talk with her. The woman ran a third of the government, sat at the head of the board, and rarely made public appearances. What on Earth could she possibly want with Mei?
“Young lady, are you there?”
“Yes,” said Mei, forcing the word. She suddenly felt like a child preparing for a parental lecture. “I’m sorry. I…I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Don’t worry about it, dear,” she said. “You’ll pardon me for calling you under Prescott’s ID. I’d rather your subordinates not know about this. You don’t mind, do you?”
