The Fireborn Chronicles

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The Fireborn Chronicles Page 2

by Mary Andrews


  “No ma'am,” Lythia replied softly. “In the past, our systems were able to identify his presence by his lack of ID. Whenever a system was entered without a source or sign-on, and he was known to be active, it was him. Our security system, basically, tracked him after the fact. So, that's all we've got and only within this station's systems."

  “It's mind boggling, isn't it?” Marion said as she checked the time on the wall screen. “He should be here soon. You told him it would activate at 0800, right?"

  Lythia nodded. “We've requested it stay open until manually released this time, in case there are any problems."

  They both started as the door whooshed open unannounced. Rael entered, full of confidence and joined his mother and instructor at the desk across the room from The Hive station.

  “Rael Pointe, reporting for duty, ma'am.” He imitated the praetorian salute of the Services and smiled at his mother's response. “What? You don't want me in the family business?"

  Marion Mahata shook her head. “Again with the antics. At least tell me that you've thought this through and considered all of the ramifications of this experiment."

  “Oh, come on, Mom,” he leaned down and kissed her forehead, “you're the only person in the universe who cares for me, and I do appreciate that. But this is what I was born to do. It's only a matter of who I work for, isn't it?” Uncharacteristically, he winked at her. “Don't worry, I'll do you proud ... even if it's only as a world class filing clerk."

  Lythia resisted the urge to reach out and slap him on the head.

  Mahata only frowned. She'd never seen him look so anxious or excited about anything before. She took in his ruggedly handsome appearance. He was dressed all in black again, his favorite color, since he liked how it provided a striking contrast to his always tousled silver hair. Nineteen years worth of memories swarmed her consciousness. Had it really been so unhappy for him? she wondered. “What do you plan to do when you access that thing?"

  Rael's attention snapped to the corner, as the SYSTEMS ON light announced the workstation's activation.

  “You really can feel it,” Lythia marveled.

  “Like the draw of a magnet,” Rael replied as he dragged a desk chair toward it. “I was thinking that at first I would like to just watch what it's doing.” He braced the chair against the wall next to the unit. “You know, follow our little temp while it does its job. Then, if I can, I want to take control of its action. I'll be able to report or signal my successes if that works.” Fishing in his pocket, he procured a tiny data disc. “This is a sorting assignment for the temp.” He inserted it into the work unit. “You need to open up your portal now and watch for me,” he told Lythia over his shoulder, and noting that she had done so, he dropped into the chair, shuffling ever-so-slightly to get comfortable. “I'm going to attempt to initiate access points through all The Hive terminals on this station—especially the ones that haven't been activated.” He leaned his head against the wall. “I don't know how easy or hard this will be, but eventually I want to backtrack to The Hive itself."

  Mahata shot up from her seat. “No. I forbid it."

  Rael smiled. “Too late, Mom.” His temples flickered, and his eyes glazed over.

  Marion Mahata slammed her hand on the desk.

  Lythia scrambled to call up the assignment from Rael's disc onto her portal. She found each file already reorganized and placed in consecutive order. Nothing stood out. Then with a flicker, the file order reversed, and a message appeared across the screen: HI MOM, I AM FINE. HOW ARE YOU?

  Lythia's laugh brought Momma M to her side.

  “Oh, thank God,” Marion said as she dropped into a desk side seat. “If I threaten him, he may not come back,” she murmured, then squinted at the screen. “So, how long do you think he can stay in there?"

  Lythia looked back to the screen. Posts from all over the station began to stack up before her. Plowing her way through them, she pieced together Rael's one-word-at-a-time message: THIS ... IS ... WORKING ... JUST ... THE ... WAY ... I ... THOUGHT ... IT ... WOULD.... SEE ... IF ... YOU CAN ... DETECT ... MY ... PRESENCE ... ANYWHERE.

  Marion reached over and picked up her com unit. “Security, scan all systems for anomalies and give me an intruder report."

  A few seconds later, a security message appeared on the screen: NO INTRUDER DETECTED ON SECURITY CHANNELS ... WE HAVE HAD A SUSPICIOUS RASH OF MINOR MALFUNCTION REPORTS ON CLERICAL LEVELS ... AND PSI SCANNERS SENSE ACTIVITY BUT CANNOT LOCATE IT.... (SO HOW AM I DOING MOM?)

  Marion sighed and spoke into the com again. “Report these findings to me again—verbally this time."

  The confused security guard repeated the message verbatim without her son's input.

  “That's what I thought. Thank you, officer. That will be all.” She disconnected the line. “Can you locate him within the system at all?” she asked her aide.

  Lythia shook her head. “Not at all. Ma'am, I think the only reason we know he's there is because he's telling us."

  Marion Mahata dropped her head into her hands and frowned. “Oh my God, we've created a monster."

  “But I'm your monster, mother.” Rael sat smiling at them from across the room. “And no one will ever command me but you.” He stood up from the chair and stretched, popping the stiffness from his neck.

  “Yeah, right,” his mother mumbled. “That didn't seem to matter when I told you not to go to the source, did it?"

  Rael feigned a wounded look. “But I didn't, Mom.” He savored her surprise and then grew serious, “Because I hadn't had a chance to discuss it with you."

  * * * *

  “It's been thirteen days, Lythia! What are we waiting for?” Rael dropped onto one of the park's pedestrian rest benches. “We're just dancing around what needs to be done next. What do I have to do to get her to let me deep-dive The Hive?"

  Lythia sat next to him and tapped a message onto her hand-held notebook.

  “Yes, I can pick that up too,” Rael responded without looking at her. “I thought we already established I can open link with damned near anything I get close to—"

  Lythia's slender fingers flew across the tiny board again.

  Rael turned to face her. “I thought I wasn't allowed on the upper levels."

  Lythia snapped the notebook closed and batted her pretty eyes at him. “There's a restaurant up there that I think you will like."

  “Hmmm.” Rael nodded. “You're the boss.” He rose and offered his arm. “We might want to hurry, or we'll catch the lunch rush."

  Lythia took his arm and guided him further through the park, away from the interior business district, toward the outermost elevators.

  “I'll never get used to seeing parks on each level here,” Rael said. “It's almost like being outside every time I leave a building ... or office.” He frowned.

  “It's part of the illusion cast by the designers. Keeps everyone a little saner in a contained environment. Just like the sky blue ceilings on each level's ‘outdoor’ ceiling."

  “Yeah, I understand the principle, but it's interesting to actually feel the effects. Mom and I have always lived on planet-bound bases. This is kind of nice."

  Lythia thought she caught a glimpse of a flicker across his temple plates.

  “Do you know the grass here is genetically designed to never grow more than three inches tall? It doesn't need but three inches of soil to grow because it spreads by using underground runners. What a clever idea."

  Lythia glanced at his innocent expression and tried to imagine what it would be like to so easily access the answer to any question. “Yes, the universe is filled with amazing things.” They traversed the rest of the long walkway surrounded by bright green grass and sporadic beds of colorful flowers without talking. But by the time they reached the elevators Rael could not keep quiet.

  “What level are we going to?” he asked as they entered the elevator.

  “Two."

  “Dark Ops Central, Intelligence Central, and diplomatic and VIP hous
ing. Where's this restaurant?"

  “You get a wider variety of food at the VIP eateries."

  “Not really,” Rael stated flatly. “The Level 3 food court offers more."

  “Where did you get that from?” Lythia asked. “There are no terminals on the elevator."

  Rael nodded toward the tiny notebook in her hand.

  She stared at the subtle glow of the activity indicator. “But it's not ... Never mind."

  The door whooshed open, and another expanse of lush green grass and blue flowers lined the walk leading through the Dark Ops sector. “Hmm, color coded plants.” He motioned toward the blue line that ran all along the escape units that made up the entire wall of this section.

  “Colors make for easy deck identification,” Lythia said. “Didn't I tell you that during your orientation?"

  “I was practicing small talk.” Rael started down the pathway. “Mom says I need to."

  * * * *

  “So what do you want me to do now that we're here?” Rael asked while perusing the menu terminal at their table.

  “I thought we would experiment with proximity to PSI personnel."

  “There are some here?” Rael looked around the food hall.

  “Several that I can see right off. They have to wear gloves, even if they are not contact activated. It makes everyone feel more secure."

  “So what do I need to do now?"

  Lythia opened her little notepad and typed, “How many PSI agents are sitting at the table in the back corner? Respond through this unit.” She noted Rael's hesitance. “Do it,” she said.

  “Mom said it hurts them,” Rael began.

  “That's what we're here to prove, or disprove.” Lythia typed. “Do it now!"

  FIVE appeared on the tiny screen.

  From around the room several heads snapped up and began to look around.

  “What are they doing now?” she asked and motioned to the machine.

  THEY ARE LOOKING AROUND ... NO. THEY ARE ALL LOOKING AT ME.

  An unfamiliar woman's voice registered in Lythia's mind, Stop what you are doing.

  Lythia turned in her seat to face the corner table as if to address the telepath who had contacted her. But from behind, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Swiveling around to face them, she found herself looking up at three very big, very armed, male PSI sector security guards.

  “Agent Lyconza, you will come with us, please,” the nearest one said.

  Lythia rose slowly and motioned for Rael to follow suit. “Good idea. I think I'm ready to involve PSI Sector control now. Take me to your leader."

  Rael followed suit in silence, but a backward glance made him even more uncomfortable. Too many cold eyes stared at him from behind, and he realized he would never have friends on Level One.

  * * * *

  Commander Ezra Mu had fine dark hair he wore very short. As head of PSI Sector, he had learned the value of not letting anyone take him, or his people, for granted. He had agreed to allow the cafeteria test only with the understanding that he would be permitted to follow up with tests of his own.

  He had sent many levels of skilled PSI agents to eat there without any explanation, and now he skimmed through the reports of their ‘encounter.’ Incredible, he thought to the man outside of Rael's containment cell. I will have to know more. Push him over the edge.

  Officer First Class Larr Arina braced himself before he threw open the door to the containment cell and bore down on the youth without warning. “Against the wall!” He jerked the young man from where he had been seated and slammed his back into the wall.

  Totally caught off guard, Rael gave no defense against the blow to his midsection. He crumpled to the floor, barely able to breathe. Scarcely able to lift his head, he caught a glimpse of his attacker's hands. Gloves. He's PSIonic. Rael reached out wildly. The room's lights snapped off; the surveillance cameras zoomed in and out, and the intercom clicked off and on.

  Officer Arina stumbled away with his hands to his head.

  Rael stumbled up and headed through the still open door, slamming it shut behind him. The lock activated with a click. He felt the presence of a control terminal nearby. He staggered in that direction until he found it in one of the smaller rooms. He locked the door and dropped onto a chair, then dove into the terminal long enough to figure out his location and message his mother for help.

  Rael sat still and silent for a moment before taking in the sights. Finding the security cameras proved too easy. Scanning the activity on Deck One, he realized what he had done. The entire quadrant had been evacuated. The communication unit buzzed. Rael dropped his head in his hands. “Yes?” he answered.

  Momma M's voice sounded over the unit. “Open the door, Rael; I've come to take you home."

  Rael pushed the door release and watched it whoosh open. The look on his mother's face told him that he looked as bad as he felt. “I don't know what happened, Mom,” he began.

  “Shhhh!” She helped him out of the chair and toward the elevators.

  * * * *

  Marion Mahata fought against overwhelming odds to keep him safe. The PSI Sector insisted he was a threat to station security. Intel Sector saw great potential as a weapon. They wanted him trained. But it was Lythia who came up with a viable plan that satisfied them all.

  * * * *

  Rael did not leave his quarters after that, and no amount of enticement could move him. He requisitioned all food and needs from there, refused visitors and sat alone, except for the computer.

  Two months later, while Rael was eating breakfast, his console activated of its own accord, and a thin man with a dark complexion and a big smile appeared upon it. “My name is Rassa Re. I am an engineer of sorts, and I have a surprise for you. Meet me at the shuttle door closest to your quarters. Say hi to Marion for me too."

  The small shuttle ship awaited them beyond the dock door near the same elevator that had led to the upper decks. As one door closed off the station behind them, the other clicked and unlocked the door before them, allowing them to gain access to the docking bay shuttle.

  Rael pressed past the seats lining the walls to stand before the huge viewing screen for a better look. Before them, a vast array of private and station defense ships could be seen docked within the Base's spherical wall. The shuttle pulled away from the door-dock and glided effortlessly forward beyond the private and defense ship bays. The huge blast shield drew back to allow them passage from the star base and into the inky black of space.

  Rassa pointed toward a barely visible, dark ship hanging in the distance. “Behold, the next phase of your training, young man.” He clicked on the transponder, and a sleek ship with graceful lines lit up. “She's a state of the art, star-chaser class cruiser, fully modified to meet your needs. On her upper deck she has a bridge, a sick bay, a large common room, six private quarters. Below she has a cargo bay and loading dock, and there's an area that would make a nice hydroponics bay if you like. I've set everything up for you to learn how to run her by yourself. And you can fine tune your compu-link skills to your heart's content."

  Rael shot him a sideways glance. “What do I have to do?"

  Rassa smiled a disarming smile. “In exchange for the ship, proper preparation and training, the Universal Government would like to enlist your services as a Dark Ops field agent. If all goes well, Marion Mahata has proposed the formation of a special team, and you will have final say of each member, but that's in the future. For now it will be just you, me and the Nemesis.

  * * *

  PART TWO

  THE WALL MASTER

  * * *

  Rising and falling, the ocean rolled, breath-like, onto the empty shore where Ira and his sister stood. The horizon loomed before them, totally unobstructed. Its golden halo filtering ever-so-slowly outwards to disperse the last of the night's darkness. Ira stood at the water's edge, allowing the chilly waves to lap at his feet and the salt-laced breeze to swirl around him in a will-o-the-wisp fashion. He savored the clean smell
of morning as he lifted the towel from his shoulders and ran it over his glistening black hair.

  “I love the sea,” he called back to his sister. “It's so peaceful."

  Alandra scanned the miles of empty beach behind them. Her brother's lack of caution scared her. An impending danger danced across her senses, but she couldn't decide if it was premonition or just nerves. She fidgeted with her towel in an attempt to shake the sand out of it. “It's getting late. The perimeter guard could turn up at any time now. We should go."

  “A few more minutes won't hurt anything,” Ira insisted.

  Alandra tossed him his shirt. “You know the law. Let's go."

  Ira jerked the sleeves on and fumbled with the buttons. “I hate this,” he muttered. “I'm sick to death of cowering and hiding what I can do. We help people. If we didn't they'd drive us crazy! How hard is that for them to understand?” He snatched up a shell from the sand and hurled it in the direction of The Wall, even though they were well out of sight from both the edifice and its government run perimeters.

  Alandra shook sand from her shift and pulled on her sweater before starting away. “Be grateful for what you have, Ira. What we do at The Wall is important, and perhaps, someday, we'll earn transfers."

  Ira glared at her. “To where? To some alien planet where green-eyed, tendrilled buglets romp about and make clicking noises? Come, sister.” He grabbed her arm and whirled her around to face him. “I'll rid them of their problems. I'll tranquilize them with my sheer presence. I'll force them to be happy, whether they want to be or not, and you can teach them to be honest. Like a good little telepath should.” Although barely sixteen years old, he stood a foot taller than her, and in the early morning light, his clear blue, gem-like eyes glittered. It had an unsettling effect on people, and he had enjoyed mastering its use over the years.

  “Let go of me, Ira."

  He tightened his grip and continued in his soft voice that could, somehow, always be heard. “What a sensation we'll be. Or don't you think we'll scare them as much as we do our own kind? We're living, breathing, feeling people too, Alandra! Why don't our needs matter?"

 

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