Maia and the Xifarian Conspiracy (The Lightbound Saga Book 1)

by S. G. Basu

  “Ready?” Master Kehorkjin asked.

  “Yes,” Maia replied, feeling confident after everything had worked as expected.

  “All right then, we will now commence with the terrain switch.”

  Terrain switch? For a moment Maia forgot to breathe. Around her, the land shook and wobbled. The grass wilted and dissolved into the ground that transformed from the lush green to a dull brown, to a dead-of-the-winter gray, and finally into a lifeless swath of crumbly white. As Maia looked around, all she could see was an endless sea of ice. In the distance, sharp peaks rose to touch the swirling gray clouds above. Every now and then, violent gusts of wind swayed her sideways. They have simulated the environment on Ti.

  A few confounded moments later, Maia laughed at herself. How could she have not thought about this? This was a challenge for a reason. If they were to be tested simply on a green hill with delicate slopes, how would it be a challenge any more? And then, these crafts were to be made into prototypes, for real people. Obviously, they had to be tested in a real-enough situation.

  But how did the scene change so quickly? Maia gulped as the answer flashed. Terraforming, of course. A Tierremorphe must have switched the terrain.

  Maia’s throat felt dry, fingers numb as she realized what she was up against. Not only could the landscape change into any conceivable form, but she would also have to adapt fast, since it would change as rapidly as a mere idea sweeping through the Tierremorphe’s mind.

  “Your challenge, set to start in a moment, is to reach the crimson flag. Do not forget to keep an eye on the time tracker,” Master Kehorkjin’s voice drifted in from far, far away. “Good luck.”

  In that moment of heart-stopping anticipation, Maia could almost feel every taut nerve in her body. She sat there, frozen, staring into the whiteness ahead. Then she noticed the flag in the southwestern corner, a speck of brightness in the barren wasteland.

  Glug!

  Maia saw the pack of ice in front of her rise a little.

  Glug! Glug!

  Maia felt emptiness at the pit of her stomach. The ice ahead rose some more.

  Piro is sinking in an ice floe!

  Maia knew she had to stop the descent. And she could—Piro has features to combat the ice floes.

  Water, thick and icy, rushed up over Maia’s eyes, jolting her. She took a deep breath, she had to think, and fast. If she was seeing water, Maia deduced, it only meant one thing: Piro’s headlamps were now beneath the surface of the floe. A sharp beep pierced her ears, and a message flashed across the screen: “Water seepage. Rear hull.”

  A few more moments of inaction and we will be beyond saving.

  Maia sat up, trying to remember the sequence of key strokes to employ the air cushions for flotation, and to engage and start the propellers.

  Glug! Glug!

  Maia remembered—one tap of the right thumb, two taps of the left index, and two twirls of the little fingers.

  A happy flash of green followed by a low, tiny whir soothed Maia’s strung out senses—the propellers had started. She felt the surge upward, the water over her eyes receding almost immediately.

  Need more power! Thrusters to maximum! Tap and tap, tap.

  Maia lurched forward through stubborn chunks of ice. She was just about to relax a little when the shrill beep pierced the air once more. “Water seepage. Rear hull.” Maia blinked rapidly, trying to focus. The thrusters had obviously not done enough, and they were moving too slowly. Piro had to get out of the floe, as fast as possible, before the water seeped into the rear power distributor. Maia knew there was an option, a risky one, but the only one she had left—using the front launchers to deploy the two tug anchors at the head of the craft. It would work perfectly if the anchors found a ground solid enough to hook into, but if not, she would have wasted precious moments. She decided to go for it, fingers dancing in an intricate rhythm, unlocking the launchers, aiming them toward the far left of the floe where the white looked the densest. Then, with a prayer on her lips, she fired.

  The twin anchors flew through the air, up and up and up they went. And then they fell. Maia waited a moment and reeled them in, hoping they would stick. Her stomach sank as the left anchor rushed back toward her, registering no resistance. It had failed to find a perch; the ice must have been too hard to penetrate, or this ice floe was endless with no solid ground. With very little hope left, she tugged the one on the right, her heart skipping a few beats as the ice around her parted.

  It worked!

  Piro rushed through the treacherous lumps of ice, clambering on to icy ground after a seemingly endless trek. Once the anchor was secured, Maia turned to locate the flag once more. It was not too far away, so she programmed its estimated coordinates on Piro’s guidance system. After a quick check of the rear hull, which to her immense relief showed no significant damage, Maia headed toward the flag. The ice was slippery, and she was glad she had invested in the spiked attachments for Piro’s wheels. They worked like a charm, pulling Piro in a confident hike across the bed of ice.

  Maia stole a quick glance at the time tracker on her screen, smiling as she saw it at the halfway mark. She had ample time, the flag being in plain sight and the ground, although not without challenges, was definitely not treacherous like the floe. She had thought a moment too soon.

  A spike of ice shot up from the ground, barely missing Piro’s front end. Maia’s thumb made a panicked jab; she was flung violently as Piro screeched to a halt. She peered to look; it was more a huge column than just a spike, piercing the sky, blocking their path to the flag. Maia went backward a little, and tried to veer around the column when the second one shot up in front of her. And when as she tried to swerve around a third time, up came another.

  This is not just a random event; they are building a barrier.

  Maia slumped back, weighing her options. These columns were too tall, so climbing over them was not a possibility. They were quite sturdy as well, so even if Maia tried using the pyrogenic defroster to make a hole through the ice, she would run out of time. There was a third option, outrunning the spikes. But that meant running fast, which was nearly impossible with spiked wheels.

  So, reducing the wheel cleats to a third of what it was set at earlier, Maia let Piro sprint forward. Along her left, the ground erupted in a menacing series of icy buttresses, baring its fangs like a gigantic prehistoric animal. It was hard to keep pace with the wall that raced her, let alone outrun it. And with every turn of the wheel, she was going further away from her destination. With the time tracker blinking at the quarter mark, Maia knew it was now or never. She put the thrusters at maximum, removed the wheel cleats altogether, and let Piro slide.

  They went flying across the white, slipping past the exploding ground. Maia knew that steering a skidding craft was not an option because it would result in a tailspin, but there was one other thing she could do. When Piro’s nose surged ahead of the wall, she activated the front-left anchor. It shot out just before the next fang emerged, the hook burying itself on the other side of the icy barricade. Maia stopped unreeling. The next spike shot up, hoisting the chain of the anchor as it rose, and Piro flew in an arc above the wall, tugged by the tether. As soon as they cleared the spike, Maia launched the front anchors as well, securing additional tethers to the ground. Maia could see the flag, drawing closer and closer as Piro zoomed in like a meteorite. With a quick calculation of a trajectory, Maia started the lower thrusters and engaged the air cushions. She knew all that did not guarantee a safe landing, but with any luck, it would dampen the fall a little.

  Maia felt the resistance of solid ground as Piro made contact with the icy surface. A surge of relief had barely raised its happy head when a violent lurch threw Maia forward, leaving her breathless and unprepared for the gut-wrenching screech of metal twisting and tearing, and the blaring malfunction alarm that followed.

  All is lost.

  Maia shut her eyes and waited for the movement to cease.

  “Congratula
tions,” Master Kehorkjin’s voice thundered in her ears. “You have managed to break your front axle.”

  Maia opened her eyes slowly. She was not upside down, but her viewing angle was funny. Piro sat with its nose touching the icy ground, the pole with the crimson flag a small distance to its left. The front of the Interfacer fell open, and the master peeped in.

  “You came quite close,” he said as Maia scampered down, her heart still pounding in wild frenzy, her clothes drenched in sweat.

  Maia glanced at the grounds again. She had come close indeed.

  If only we had a few more moments, Piro and I would have been home.

  The master pointed at a door at the end of the room opposite to where she had entered. “You will exit through that door and wait until everyone in the first group completes their tests. After that, you can leave the building.”

  The wait for Dani felt almost too long to endure. When Dani finally emerged, the smile on her face said it all.

  “Master Kehorkjin said my timing was outstanding,” she whispered. “Can’t believe they let a Tierremorphe loose on us though.”

  They sat and watched contestants trickle out, some happy, some close to tears. Loriine looked miserable; reportedly, her craft buried its nose in the ice and by the time she had dug it out, she had run out of time. One girl came out sobbing; her vehicle had rolled over while trying to negotiate a sharp climb along a hill, and in the process broke all its axles. The ice floe had claimed Kenan’s craft; before he could pull it out, the water had flooded the propulsion systems. On hearing such accounts, Maia felt relieved that she had made it as far as she did. After all fifteen in the first group had been evaluated, Master Kehorkjin set them free. Dani wasted no time and marched toward the visitors’ station, with Maia in tow.

  26: The Moon Harvest

  The visitors’ station was in a small building next to the main entrance. As soon as the gatekeeping personnel informed her that her guest had arrived, Dani pranced ahead. The siblings were busy talking when Maia entered the lounge, a little hesitant and embarrassed to interrupt. Hans turned around and smiled as she walked in. Maia blinked, realizing immediately that Dani’s brother was nothing like she had imagined. She could not help but notice how his left cheek dimpled faintly every time he smiled, how his sharp yet friendly eyes twinkled when he spoke, and how a wisp of curly hair seemed to love hovering on his forehead.

  “This lovely young lady must be Maia,” Hans said as he shook Maia’s hand.

  “Hello.” Maia was surprised at how demure her own voice sounded.

  “It’s a great pleasure to meet you,” Hans smiled, radiating warmth.

  They sat discussing the trials and the upcoming challenges while waiting for the rest of the team to arrive. It was not long before Ren and Nafi walked into the room together, arguing loudly about some stunt Ren had pulled, one that clearly did not make it past Nafi’s moral standards. On seeing the puzzled onlookers, Ren waved an apology.

  “Sorry. Hello, Hans.” He shook hands quickly and started to explain. “I had a parachute so my buggy wouldn’t accidentally dive off a cliff and crash. I call that insurance. Nafi calls it cheating.”

  “Not exactly cheating, but treading where the lines are blurred. You’re not supposed to have built-in safety systems,” Nafi countered impatiently. “Why do you always have to be like that? What if you were disqualified? Do you realize what that would do to the team standings? Don’t you remember that your name is in his Black Book already?”

  “You should have seen the look on Kehorkjin’s face when I let the parachute open just for the effect,” Ren grinned. “It looked so fantastic, Nafi, it even said ‘Go Sliver’ on it.”

  Nafi plopped down next to Maia, shaking her head in frustration. “And here come the tales.”

  “I just wanted to share my adventure with you guys. Or would you want me to hide stuff from you all the time just to make you like me better?” Ren asked as Nafi slumped some more.

  “That would be treading blurred lines as well, so you don’t want to do that,” Hans said.

  As Ren chuckled at Hans’s words, Nafi shook her head again. “But Hans, what if the team was penalized because of him?” she asked.

  “That’s certainly a risk,” Hans said. “You should discuss such plans with your teammates, Ren. If not all of them, at least with your team leader.”

  Nafi scoffed, throwing an accusing look at Maia, and drawing Hans’s prompt attention.

  “I can imagine how hard it must be for you, Maia, to juggle so many tasks, but you have to keep trying for the sake of your team,” he said.

  Embarrassed to the core, Maia could not even find the strength to nod. She felt a little annoyed at Nafi for calling her out in front of their visitor. But then, she had to concede her lack of enthusiasm as a leader.

  “He can’t disqualify Sliver,” Ren’s solemn voice made Maia look up. “Not as long as I meet the weight requirements. And how can you buy into that ‘no safety systems’ mandate? How can a craft with a living person in it be without any safety systems? Don’t you see, guys, this is the only chance those poor miners on Ti have, and the only way they get a safer buggy to ride in is if we try to build them one.”

  Nafi stared at Ren, and for the briefest moment her eyes shone with what surprisingly looked like admiration.

  “I’m guessing your tests went well, Miss Nafi,” Hans said.

  “It was fine. Thank you.” She smiled grudgingly before flashing a wide grin. “I was planning on not liking you for siding with Mister Blurry Lines here. But who am I kidding? You are too sweet to stay mad at for long. No wonder your sister can’t stop her ‘Hans this’ and ‘Hans that.’ She drives me crazy with it though.”

  Dani made a face at Nafi, Hans burst out laughing, and soon Ren’s antics were happily forgotten as they talked about their life at the XDA. It was much later that a weary Kusha trudged in, his face pale and his eyes sunken. He managed a feeble smile at Hans, and after a quick shake of hands, collapsed on a couch.

  “Sorry about being such a mess. He gave us such a hard time, and for no good reason. That Kehorkjin simply enjoys torturing people,” Kusha groaned, and his audience sighed in sympathy. “Jiri was in tears after his test was cancelled midway because his buggy flipped over twice. Aldor was not even allowed to perform because she talked while awaiting her turn. I’m glad he just kept to his usual taunting remarks with me.”

  “That’s so terrible. I had a similar instructor in school. Dani, do you remember Miss Aerika?” Hans reminisced, and Dani nodded all too eagerly. “I used to come home and rant about her for hours. But enough of that¬, you need to forget about the day for now,” he added, looking at the weary faces. “Let’s go and eat and have some fun. What do you think?”

  The thought of food made everyone smile, and the group was ready to invade the restaurant district. Maia strode happily forward with the rest of her teammates, filing out of the visitors’ station in brisk, buoyant steps, eager to see what lay outside the XDA.

  They boarded a transporter shuttle, a bright green capsule-like vehicle that scuttled along like a busy ant, zigzagging across the roads and between the gigantic high-rises that lined the streets. It came to a stop in front of a square dwarf of a building that was wider than it was tall, squatting unflappably among giants. Not only was it unimpressive, its plain and unsophisticated look was quite a letdown.

  But as soon as she set foot inside, Maia gawked. A whole cityscape had been built to perfection inside the building. The group walked through the entrance and emerged at a crossroads in what seemed like a bustling metropolis. Wide streets, brilliantly illuminated with dazzling signs and lights of various colors, shapes, and sizes, stretched out in different directions. Brightly decorated shops and buildings lined the streets, and cheerful people thronged the roads, peeping into shop windows, talking and chatting among themselves. A whiff of a most appetizing aroma wafted through the air.

  “Now, this is truly ah-ma-zing,” Nafi s
aid slowly, her eyes growing wider as she took in the spectacular surroundings.

  “We’ll go this way.” Hans led them along the widest street that cut across the center of the sprawling complex.

  Maia walked in a daze, finding it hard to peel her eyes off the goods that the shops had on display. Miniature crafts, antique weaponry, gowns and dresses, jewelry, candy—the vibrant wares beckoned her color-starved eyes with charm and allure. She was not the only one; everybody had slowed down, mesmerized by the bright and lively atmosphere. Hans had to turn around and prod them a few times until they reached The Moon Harvest, clearly one of the biggest and most popular eateries in the area. It stood next to an open-air dance studio playing the loudest music on the street. Before anyone could succumb to the temptation of joining in a dance, Hans herded them into the restaurant.

  A young girl with short reddish-brown hair and bright, smiling eyes soon seated them in a cozy corner. The subsequent ordering process stretched a little too long, with all the questioning and the explanations that went back and forth. After that ordeal was over, the waitress highlighted the various attractions in the restaurant.

  “Over in that far corner are the game rooms.” She pointed toward the back. “To the right are the theme rooms where you can relive moments from the current theme. Tonight we have brought to life some moments from the town of Damaluus, of the planet Kien.”

  “Hmm, the theme rooms sound intriguing,” Kusha said, casting a longing glance in their direction.

  “Maybe we should check them out before our food arrives,” Dani suggested.

  “It’s not as interesting as you think,” Ren said helpfully, but Kusha and Dani had decided to take a look at it anyway.

  When the duo stepped away from the table, Ren turned his attention toward Hans who sat stirring a large goblet of Luusien, a bluish-green drink made from bush-berries native to Damaluus, Kien.