by Paris Singer
THE SKY DRIFTER
PARIS SINGER
Booktrope Editions
Seattle, WA 2015
COPYRIGHT 2015 DAVID PARIS SINGER-CARTER
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Cover Design by Yosbe Design
Edited by Marisa Chenery
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.
PRINT ISBN 978-1-5137-0085-4
EPUB ISBN 978-1-5137-0106-6
Contents
COVER
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
QUOTE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CONTACT INFORMATION
MORE GREAT READS
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
It is with deepest gratitude I thank everyone who so arduously worked on this novel to make it what it is today.
“There was a door to which I found no key;
There was the veil through which I could not see…”
~Omar Khayyam
CHAPTER ONE
SHE GRABBED SEVEN’S hand and pulled him hard in her direction. “This way!” she exclaimed to both of them as the persistent shrill of the alarm sounded about the dark steel corridors.
Seven’s mind was still spinning. He disbelievingly looked back at his double to make sure he was still there. How far away the academy now seemed.
The mysterious bright yellow-skinned girl who held his hand had opened his eyes to a world that seemed too cruel to be real. Yet there he was, and there she was, her long, dark green hair swaying behind her. Part of him still clung to the hope it was all nothing more than a dream. That any second now he would awake to the sound of Pi or Iris banging on the door to his dormitory room, urging him to wake up lest they be late for class. Yet, the feel of her warm hand, the clanging of his boots on the cold metal underfoot, the stifling thin air he breathed, the sting of the cuts on his body and face, all felt real. A reality the likes of which he had never tasted before. This was the reality he had always been denied. A reality they had kept from him. A reality that wanted him dead.
The urgency of the situation still eluded him, for he had yet to see any attackers, and had only her word to cling to. The fact was, this new existence began and ended with her words, convincing as they were. His other self really was running behind him, and the mysterious girl’s desperation to escape seemed genuine. He trusted her, or wanted to. She could just as easily have left him there at the academy, and he would have been none the wiser, but she hadn’t. She had freed him. The truth had to be better than the perpetual lie he had inhabited.
They ran, weaving through flickering corridors, snaking past oily archways and doors. All of a sudden, any doubts he had vanished in a cry that sounded behind him. He turned as they stopped running to see his other self jerking violently, electric blue forks of light enveloping him. The horror of what Seven witnessed rocked him to his very core.
“We have to keep going!” shouted the mysterious girl, pulling at his arm once more. “Come on!”
Breath catching in his throat, Seven locked gazes with his duplicate, whose eyes shone as tears rolled down his cheeks, just before his body crashed limply to the ground beneath.
“Come on!” Like a rising echo, the mysterious girl’s voice shattered the veil that fogged his devastated mind, and he ran with her faster than he had before.
Seven now ran slightly ahead of the girl as she directed him toward a large doorway ahead. Upon crossing its threshold, he stopped, awed by the enormity of what was before him. He found himself standing on a long, narrow metallic bridge. Surrounding him was a tremendous, cylindrical area that extended up and down into pitch darkness as far as the eye could see. At the other end stood another doorway.
As he made to dash toward it, the bridge retracted into the dusty stone wall on the other side. Seven turned with haste, to make certain the mysterious, green-haired girl was behind him, ready to jump. Emerging from the depths beyond the doorway, she dragged herself to its threshold, clinging to her deeply slashed leg, dark blue blood gushing as she held it.
Panic coursed through Seven’s body. She looked at him, defeat and regret saturating her eyes. He was not going to lose her. She had released him from his prison. She had been his guide and saviour. She was his world.
“Jump!” he shouted, stretching out his hand, imploring her to take it.
He looked into her eyes, his mind ablaze with words he wanted to tell her. The girl whose name he didn’t even know had saved his life, had revealed the reasons and secrets behind his very existence, and he knew nothing about her. And now time was running out. With every beat of his heart, the bridge retracted a little more, and it would soon be too late for her to reach him.
“Jump!” he repeated so loudly his throat burned. Seven reached out as far as he could, tears streaming from his eyes, as the mysterious girl remained where she lay, gazing silently at him.
CHAPTER TWO
BANG. BANG. “SEVEN! Get up! You’re going to make us late!” Bang. Bang.
I stirred, grumbling to myself, as Iris continued to bang on the door. With her around, I didn’t need an alarm clock to wake me up. I wish the tune were nicer, though.
“Seven!” Bang.
“I’m up, I’m up!” I replied in a raised voice as I dragged myself from under the thick covers and onto the edge of the bed where I drowsily scratched my head.
“She’s losing it, man. You’d better hurry.” Pi was my other best friend. I could see his wide grinning face in my mind as he spoke those words, hoping Iris really would lose it for his own entertainment.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming.”
I pulled on the first combats and jumper I saw as I scoured the piles of clothes, pizza boxes, books, and random objects scattered around my room for my boots. Once I finally found them, I quickly packed my black satchel bag with the textbooks I’d need that day, threw it around myself so it hung by my hip, grabbed a Dagon fruit from the table in the corner, and opened the door to my dormitory.
“Hi,” I casually said and then took a bite out of the round pink fruit.
“Next time I’m coming in there to get you!” seethed Iris, walking up to me, pointing her index finger in my face. “If I’m late again, I’ll get detention, which means I’ll have to
help clean the school after hours. And if that happens,” she threatened, leaning in closer so we were face-to-face, “I’ll show you the true meaning of pain.”
Iris was as beautiful as she was fiery. She was an Arcus, a race who looked very akin to mine, but for their shimmering skins, which consisted of micro scales that shone every color of the rainbow. Despite her evident anger, looking into her large violet, almond-shaped eyes never failed to bring a smile to my face, which often annoyed her.
“Stop smiling,” she griped, her own lips curling into a reluctant smile as she tapped my shaggy hair-covered forehead with her palm, “This is serious.” As short tempered as she was, Iris couldn’t stay angry with me when I smiled at her, which also annoyed her.
“Could you guys carry on flirting as we walk? Because we really are about to be late,” noted Pi through a yawn, stretching his long, hairy arms as he ambled up the path.
Pi was an Acedian. A very placid, content race who, despite their rotund appearances, were tremendously strong, but too lazy to do anything about it. It was seldom that anyone attacked or viciously teased an Acedian, for not only did they possess enormous strength, they had relatively long claws at the end of their fingertips. Having said that, Pi would tell you that any one of his kind would choose lazing around eating over fighting any day. As I’d already mentioned, the Acedians were a naturally rotund, portly race, something they didn’t give a second thought to. Not Pi, though. Despite his perpetual lazy, laid-back attitude, he had a slight complex about his weight, wishing instead to be trimmer. As such, he despised the nickname “Pi.”
I should probably mention at this point that Pi and Iris were nicknames. At the academy, every student was assigned a number, not a name, for the purposes of “efficiency.” So, Iris’ “name” was really 11, Pi’s was 314. Mine was 7. Iris and Pi agreed it suited me, so I remained Seven.
“Shut up, Pi!” Despite turning away from me suddenly to scold him, I knew her multi-colored cheeks had turned a bright shade of red.
They went on ahead. I briefly looked up at the clear blue sky above. What I was actually looking at was the ship’s dome. They changed every morning and then again at night when the blue faded away to expose the kaleidoscopic vastness of space through which we sailed.
The academy was the Sky Drifter, an enormous white space cruiser aboard which we lived our lives as it wandered through galaxies in search of knowledge, stopping every once in a while when it reached a planet that was part of the syllabus. When that happened, trips were organized by the various professors, whose lessons had been focused on that particular place. More dangerous planets were reserved for the older years, leaving the safer, boring ones to the first and second years. Iris, Pi, and me being the latter meant that the most exciting things we’d seen so far had been the Pupans, who were tiny, doll-like beings, whose planet resembled a patchwork quilt, and the spitting Bufos, whose spit temporarily changed your appearance into just about anything you could imagine (I was turned into a smelly sock, a cup of tea, and a hairy orange eye).
I could still hear Iris scolding Pi as I caught up with them, and we ran together toward the academy, which was in the very center of the town. Its tall, white clock tower rose high above the houses and shops, which surrounded it, and could be seen from anywhere on the expansive platform.
We entered the winding maze of streets, trying not to knock into any of the residents who ambled along, which proved an almost impossible task for Pi given his bulk, and headed to the academy.
The inhabitants of the Sky Drifter consisted mainly of professors, students, merchants and crew, with students residing in rooms outside the town, itself being occupied by the adults. A wide variety of species from countless different galaxies lived, studied, and worked aboard, making the Sky Drifter the only known place where inter-racial co-habitation existed.
We finally reached the large wrought-iron academy gates just as the clock above us began to chime, signalling the start of our classes.
Running just ahead, Iris looked back at me, and said, “If you’ve made me late, I will kill you, Seven!” We dashed through the main doors, and she disappeared around a corner on her way to her Space Theory class.
“I think she means it this time, dude.” Pi smirked while we continued up the stairs to the first floor where we had our first class.
“Yeah, yeah. That’s what she said last time,” I replied, wondering whether she really was serious this time.
Iris was part of a race of extremely gifted hunters, renowned for their short tempers and beauty. Aside from their bewitching eyes and lightly shimmering multi-colored skins, their light blue, wavy hair made them irresistible to most species, and therefore deadly if you happened to be their prey. At that moment, I felt right in the middle of Iris’ cross-hairs.
Nearly out of breath, I reached the first floor with Pi still halfway down the stairs. I turned the corner, relieved that I’d arrive to class just in time, when I suddenly crashed into something large, which caused me to fall hard to the floor. I raised my hand to my nose to check it for blood while looking up to see what I’d collided against. The unmistakably wide, stony frame of a Morex stood leaning on the wall in front of me. Green and brown moss covered various parts of their hard, gray bodies, and they were known more for their physical prowess than for their academic ingenuity. From the other side of the Morex came a voice I recognized all too well.
“Watch where you’re going, Simian,” came the snide, cold voice of One as his faceless head peered round the Morex.
Satisfied no blood gushed out of my nose, I simply replied, “Shut up, Imago,” so used to his sneers and insults.
He especially loved referring to me by my species, despite knowing what my name was. So I replied in kind. His was a very mysterious race whose hidden faces were always covered by smooth, plain masks that wrapped around their heads. The only clue that they even had eyes was the single spherical hole on the upper left side of their masks. I didn’t need to see his face to know he was a jerk, though.
“You never learn, do you, Simian? Don’t you know you’re supposed to respect your superiors?” he quipped, walking out from behind the Morex.
All Imago wore the same attire, which consisted of a black full-length, tight-fitting coat fastened in the middle by red buttons from the waist all the way up to the neck. Their hands were always covered by long, dark red gloves, which concealed only their thumbs and index fingers, revealing the ghostly white skin of their others. Their trousers were always tight and black and they wore thick black boots with a red buckle on the side.
“You keep telling yourself that, No Face.”
At my words, One’s Morex friend turned to look at me through his deep-set, yellow eyes, no doubt ready to throw me through a window or smash me into a wall, as he, One and the other Morex I hadn’t seen rounded up on me. Luckily, however, it was at that moment Pi appeared, huffing and wheezing behind me. That day, he wore his usual khaki shorts and flip-flops, and a three-times-too-big bright pink Hawaiian shirt with green and brown palm trees on it, which he believed made him look slimmer, but, in fact, exaggerated his already massive frame. After having watched a presentation on ancient Simian cultures, Pi had become obsessed with the “surfing lifestyle” from my planet, and often proudly wore clothing that reflected his passion.
At the sight of him, they stopped in their tracks. Despite their greater number, both Morex and One knew their combined strengths were no match for Pi’s.
“What’s going on?” he asked casually, his patchy, dark brown-eyed gaze slowly shifting from me to them.
Moving away from me, One said, “This isn’t over, Simian. See you in second class.” He and his sizeable friends walked down the hall.
“You okay?” asked Pi as I grabbed one of his claws to stand back up.
“I’m fine. I just ran into the back of one of them.”
“Ouch.” Pi winced.
“No big deal,” I replied, dusting myself off and smiling.
CHAPTER THREE
I RAN DOWN THE HALL to the second door on the right with Pi still wheezing behind me. I stopped right in front of the smooth, white door to the classroom, paused and took a deep breath. Once I thought I’d gathered myself as much as I could, I pressed the small blue square pad to my left and the door swished from right to left in one swift motion. Feeling slightly more confident with him behind me, I stepped forward and into the classroom.
“…an intrinsic form of angular momentum carried by—” Mr Clarus turned to face us, and with his nasally voice remarked, “Good of you to join us, gentlemen. Perhaps you’d be good enough to sit so I may continue teaching, hmm?”
I liked Mr. Clarus, our Quantum Mechanics teacher. Despite his cold level-headedness, he had a good heart. Something his anatomy re-enforced since his entire body was made of a clear type of glass, exposing the shadows of his brain, its stem, his heart and the jittery electricity that coursed throughout him.
As Pi and I sat at our desks and then turned on our screens, Mr. Clarus called out, “File three hundred and eighteen, gentlemen, if you please.” He spoke with a slightly jovial voice, pushing his ever-slipping glasses back up his nose.
While I waited for the four-dimensional display above my desk to prompt me for my password, I looked around the class. The desks were three levels high and formed a semi-circle, facing the much larger display at the front inside which Mr. Clarus stood. As with most of the academy, the walls, floor and ceiling were all a shiny white with each corner molded into the next, forming a smooth cube. The windows had been dimmed so we could better see the displays around us.
Mr. Clarus continued teaching while he walked around the various formulae that surrounded him.
