by S. G. Basu
The other man chuckled as he stepped closer to the lock. He took out the crystal key from the folds of his robe and waved it in front of Dani. “And you, spawn of the Jjord, will watch as I pull the plug on your pretty, little world.”
Maia yearned to console Dani, to say something to stop the tears streaming down Dani’s cheeks as the man pushed the key into the lock. The jeering, misshapen smile of the man’s mask seemed to mock Maia, and her chest hurt from an intense pain that kept churning her insides. She held her breath as the man tried to turn the Chrysocolla key.
A guttural, almost startled groan broke the unbearable silence. The man nudged and pushed and struggled. The key would simply not turn. Maia blinked. The plan had worked! The controller stick had stuck the lock. The disaster had been averted, even if for just a while. The men pulled and poked and argued. They cursed and kicked and yelled. The plug held. Maia closed her eyes and wished for a miracle. She hoped and prayed for Ren to burst into the room with sentries in tow. She wished for her friends to be safe.
The heat erupted from her wrist, the scorching wave that coursed through her veins stunning her momentarily. As she struggled against the chain that bound her, a wall of fire shot up in front of them, forming a blazing ring around the Stabilator, rising from the floor to the ceiling. The two masked men stumbled backward as Maia plummeted into a haze, screaming inside and gasping for breath when the heat finally overtook her. A bright white flash danced in front of her eyes before the cold darkness rushed in, flooding her senses as her legs gave way.
45: Emeritus Master Phocluus
The small white room was not much different from any other room on Xif but for a vase with bright yellow and red flowers that stood on a table next to the bed. It was strange how that spot of color had brought life to the otherwise insipid room, Maia thought as she woke up, her mind still hazy.
“Hello, Maia.” A low voice, unknown yet familiar, made her look away from the blooms and focus on the other side of the room. A lean man in a red-and-gold uniform sat in the corner, smiling. He wore his gray hair neatly parted in the middle; thin, black-rimmed glasses enhanced the sharpness of his rectangular face. As Maia squinted to get a clearer look, he rose and pulled his chair closer to her bed.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, his gentle voice almost trembling with concern.
Maia felt fine. She slowly remembered the moments before she had blacked out, the searing pain and the flashing white light that made her feel like her eyes would be burned out of their sockets.
“I’m all right. But where am I? And who are you?” she blurted, flushing in afterthought at her abruptness.
“I am Phocluus, Emeritus Master of the Xifarian Academy, and the Chairman of the Board of Scientific Defense Services.”
More worrisome thoughts flooded Maia’s mind. She propped herself up on her elbows, and a barrage of questions escaped her suddenly drying mouth.
“Where are my friends? What happened to the key? What happened to those men?”
Phocluus smiled and leaned forward, tapping his chin thoughtfully. He wore at least one jeweled ring on each of his slender fingers, his hand a sparkling rainbow of colors. Maia shot a quick glance at his other hand and noticed it was similarly adorned.
“Let me see if I can answer your questions,” he said. “I arrived at the Sanctuary, summoned by the news of a security breach at the Grotto, where I was met by a young boy and a very agitated curator. The boy, Ren, had the most interesting story to tell, and he led us through the inner courtyard and into the Grotto. We had reached the last flight of stairs, when a vicious stream of energy hit us. It was so strong and powerful that for a long time we simply crouched on the stairs, unable to move. After it subsided, we stepped inside, ready to take on the intruders.
“We were greeted by an unusual sight. The two men that Ren had alerted us about stood in front of the Stabilator pulpit, looking somewhat baffled,” Phocluus chuckled. “In front of them and surrounding the entire Stabilator was a huge wall of flames that nearly touched the ceiling above. We could not see anything behind that shield of energy, but I figured it had kept the Stabilator safe.”
“Did you catch them?”
“Yes, they are in our custody now, and we continue to question them,” Phocluus informed. “Unfortunately, we have not been able to extract any information from them so far.”
“So you don’t know what they wanted?”
“No, but I do have a theory.” His slender face turned grave. “Our Stabilator here—we call it the Mother—is electromagnetically linked to two smaller Stabilators on Tansi called the Progeny, via the locks. These locks not only keep the links tied together, but they also control the flow of immensely concentrated blocks of energy through them. At the Progeny, this energy is distributed to the power grids on Tansi.”
He paused to smile at the wide-eyed Maia who sat devouring his words.
“These people were about to decouple the channel that links the Jjordic Progeny, an act that would have caused widespread outages in some of the undersea settlements. The ones that depend solely on us would be particularly devastated. But not just that—the two Stabilators on Tansi are balanced meticulously between themselves, a balance that is critical to their functioning. Had the Chrysocolla lock been disconnected, both Progeny would have been impaired, and most of the land cities and towns would be affected as well.”
Maia had held her breath as she listened, engrossed in the chairman’s words. Now she closed her eyes and exhaled.
So, in essence, we have prevented a catastrophe of proportions we had not even fathomed. Maia wondered what these people really wanted, what they would have gained by the deaths of thousands of people on their neighboring planet. She imagined how the underwater settlements would have perished, suffocated to death as their air circulators failed. She shuddered as she thought of how the towns in the northern reaches of Tansi would have succumbed to the winter freeze after a few days without heat.
“And who are these people?” she asked, her voice sounding faint.
“They possibly belong to the Order of the Fyrstell, the covert military wing of a political faction that has been trying to send a strong message to the Resistance. They have been pushing to cut off energy supplies to show the power we wield, a method to which our government does not agree. So far, they seemed under control in the Senate, but seeing their attack on the Stabilator, I worry that their roots have grown too deep to be eradicated.”
“But innocent people, who have nothing to do with the Resistance, could be hurt,” Maia exclaimed as she sat up.
“True,” Chairman Phocluus nodded gravely.
“What happened to the key?” Maia asked in a small voice.
“After a while the shield died down and we found all of you behind it in a state of deep unconsciousness. The Stabilator was perfectly safe, and we found the missing key stuck in the lock. We immediately secured the key and brought you and your friends to the Conservatory to rest and recover.”
“How long has it been since then?”
“You have been sleeping all night and well into the afternoon; so have your three friends.” He smiled as Maia gasped in surprise. “Everyone is doing pretty well and they should be up and about anytime now.”
“At least we haven’t missed the Grand Gala. But . . .” Maia remembered something else, “but what was the curtain of fire?”
“I am not sure, Maia, but I believe it was the manifestation of a telepathic wave that was generated in unison from all of you. I noticed you were wearing firestone wristbands. These stones are believed to magnify and transmit telepathic waves between bearers. Of course they have to be of one root or the same mother stone, which yours were.
“You may not have been told that if the bearers sharing a root focus on one thought, the stones sometimes act as a projection portal to the external world. Such a situation had developed when you were confronted with a very dangerous and seemingly irrecoverable situation. All of your thoughts
converged, rising out the same concerns—the need to save the Stabilator, the need for protection from the enemy. That thought was projected as the wall of fire, giving you the safety you wanted so desperately.”
“But, I don’t understand,” Maia interrupted. “None of us have any telepathic abilities, let alone the strength to create that wall of fire.”
“I believe all of us have some telepathic powers that lie dormant through most of our ordinary lives. Still, I do not think that the strength of that projection came from any one or even all of you. It had to be more than that. I believe that the wristbands projected your combined neurological oscillations, but they were magnified a thousand times because you were in that room. The Stabilator is a source of tremendous energy, and the stones drew power from it. A strong unified projection was all it needed to start with and the rest followed.”
The door creaked. A pair of inquisitive eyes and a few spikes of black-and-white hair peeked from behind the partly open panels. Ren. A warm wave of happiness engulfed Maia’s heart and brought a smile to her face.
“Ah, Ren is here. I guess the others are still a little sleepy,” Phocluus said as he rose to leave.
“Thank you for visiting, sir,” Maia said. She had taken a liking to the kind and friendly man.
Chairman Phocluus was almost near the door when he hesitated, turned around, and came back toward Maia, who by now had scampered out of the bed. “Tell me something, Maia. Does the name Sophia mean anything to you?”
Maia’s heart skipped a couple of beats. She was not used to hearing strangers say that name, the name of her mother, the mother she was never fated to know.
“My mother . . . her name was Sophia,” she stammered.
“I felt it the moment I spoke to you. You have a strong imprint of her spirit, as if her essence is living within you. Most unusual, I have to say, this juxtaposition of spirits,” he said thoughtfully.
“You knew her?” Maia asked.
“Of course I did. She was a student at the academy when I was the principal there, the most brilliant pupil I ever had.” His eyes glazed with memories as he paused. “It has been long since I last saw her, about fourteen years. But it is as if I can still see her standing here.”
For moments that seemed to last forever, Maia stood rooted to the spot, trying to grasp the chairman’s words. An unfamiliar wave of yearning rose through her, and left her heart aching. She rushed to his side as he walked to the door.
“Chairman Phocluus, I have never known her,” Maia blurted. “How was she?”
“A wonderful person,” he replied. He looked away for a moment, then turned back and held Maia’s gaze. “You would have been proud to have known her, and from what I have seen last night, she would be proud of you too. I wish I had more time to talk, to tell you more about Sophie, but unfortunately it will have to wait. We will be in touch, Maia.”
Maia watched him turn and leave through the door. She did not quite understand why she felt so spent and so carefree at the same time. She had found someone who had known her mother, who thought highly of her. But what difference does that make? It does not absolve Sophie of any of her crimes, and yet . . . Maia walked back absentmindedly to the bed and sat quietly on its edge, trying to fathom it all.
“We did well, Maia.” Ren had sat down next to her. “We stopped them.”
“Yes, so I was told,” Maia replied, flashing a weak smile.
“And Miir is so mad at us, he practically swore at me.”
“How did he find us?”
“I don’t know.” Ren shrugged. “He showed up right after the chairman’s guards secured the place and has been here since. He was talking to the warden when I slipped out of the waiting room and came here.”
“And where’s Yoome?”
“I didn’t see her. Maybe Miir asked her to wait at the Resthouse?”
“That’s possible. He wouldn’t want another one of his charges to get involved in this mess.”
“I also heard that the chancellor will be visiting soon. He wants to have a first-hand briefing of the situation.”
“He might make us guests of honor at the Gala tonight,” Maia speculated.
“Wouldn’t that be perfect?” Ren grinned, indulging in the small dream.
Sounds of footfalls in the corridor made them look up at the door. Maia hoped it to be one of their friends and not their furious mentor. The door swung open, Yoome stepped in, and swiftly shut the door behind her.
46: A Visit from the Chancellor
Yoome looked cold, more distant than she usually appeared. Her inky black eyes darted around the room, scanning it intently before she threw a careless glance at Maia and Ren.
“How did you find us?” Ren asked, smiling.
“The chancellor will be here soon.” Yoome spoke in her detached, toneless voice, ignoring Ren’s question. “We need to do this fast, and I need you to cooperate.”
“Do what?” Ren asked sharply as he stepped toward the girl. “Who told you about the chancellor’s visit?”
Yoome turned toward him and raised her right arm. Ren’s body jerked backward and he stopped immediately, as if he had hit an unseen wall. She was using her TEK powers.
“You first.” Yoome took a long vial from the pocket of her jacket and turned toward Maia, stepping quickly to bridge the distance between them. For a few moments Maia stood frozen to the ground, then stepped frantically backward along the side of the bed.
“What are you doing?” Ren had recovered quickly from the invisible shove.
“Do not come any closer,” Yoome hissed at Ren, raising her hand again, making Ren skid back a dozen steps toward the corner of the room. “I will deal with you later.”
She took another step toward Maia, raising the vial like a knife in her hand.
“Get away from her, Maia . . . she’s crazy,” Ren screamed.
“Be quiet,” Yoome yelled, flicking her hand once more in his direction. Maia saw the space collapse, and Ren groaned as he slammed hard against the corner.
Maia realized it was now or never; she had to escape and get help—that was the only way that Yoome could be stopped. She grabbed the flower vase and hurled it at the girl before making a mad dash to the door. Barely a few steps from the threshold she was violently flung sideways—something crashed into her back, making her stumble and drop to the floor on her knees. The pain came just moments later. The huge clay pitcher that had stood in the corner of the room now lay broken, its pieces strewn on the floor.
“The more you fight me, the more I will have to hurt you. And you know that I do not hesitate.” Yoome strode past the bed and bent down to look into Maia’s eyes.
Maia could scarcely breathe. Tears had pooled in her eyes and she could barely see. It was all so senseless. Why? Is this revenge for their trouncing during the final challenge?
“Don’t you touch her.” Ren flung himself at Yoome.
“I warned you,” Yoome spun around, a vicious scowl twisting her face. The venom in her voice made Maia shiver.
Yoome raised her arm and flayed it in the motion of a whip. And again. And again. A white wave lashed from her hand, and Ren’s face contorted as it hit him across the face, a welt forming on his cheek instantaneously. Yoome took a few more steps toward Ren, and as her hands moved, waves curled and weaved. Every movement hurled Ren forcefully back. A few paces away from the corner, a huge bend in the space lifted his body up and threw him against the wall. Ren writhed in pain before his eyes closed and he collapsed in a heap on the floor.
“Ren! Nooooooo . . . stop!” Maia screamed. She had not moved during the time Yoome had stepped away. As she sat on the floor, almost paralyzed from the crippling pain that streamed through her spine, her eyes unseeing, she knew that Ren was injured, probably severely. And that thought hurt much more than the ache in her back.
Yoome was by her side in an instant. Kneeling, she placed the vial on Maia’s left temple. “Just a pinch and it will be over,” she whispered as sh
e caught Maia’s wrists tightly behind her back in a steely grip. Maia braced herself for the pointed end to pierce her head when the door flew open.
There was a moment of stillness, of hesitation, and then the vial flew out of Yoome’s hand, sliding across the floor to the other side of the room. The grip on Maia’s wrists loosened as Yoome stood up to face the person at the door. Maia fell back, her senses still reeling from the shock and the hurt.
“Get out of my way,” Yoome hissed, “or I will destroy you.”
“Try it.” The indistinct whisper sounded familiar.
As Yoome raised her arms, Maia felt a rush of fear and futility sweep through her. She stood up with all the strength she could muster, leaning against the wall. Ren had been injured, and she had no idea how badly. This girl was dangerous, and whatever it was she wanted, she would fight until the end for it. Maia did not want anyone else to intervene and suffer.
“Go away . . . while you still can,” she pleaded to the blurry figure of a person who had confronted Yoome.
Yoome’s harsh, callous laughter chilled Maia’s heart. It was the first time she had ever heard Yoome laugh.
“Too late for that,” Yoome said as she stretched her fingers, ready to unleash another wave of assault.
Yoome staggered across the room much the same way as Ren had, but Maia did not see the wave that hit her, it was so swift. The girl stumbled and balanced herself, her face livid at the realization that she had underestimated her opponent.
The dark figure at the door stepped closer to Maia. Yoome’s lips curled viciously, and when she raised her right hand again, the space in front of her folded into a sharp spear. Maia felt a hand grab her tightly by the arm, while an enormous shield-like wave thwarted the spear and flung Yoome backward. The girl skidded across the bed, hitting the headboard, then rolled forward and fell with a crashing thud on the floor.
“Check on him,” the dark figure said, pushing Maia to the ground next to Ren.
