Fragments of Light

by Beth Hodgson

  “Corporate level.”

  “What platform?”

  “The director’s platform.”

  “What number is that?” asked the driver.

  “I don’t know,” Michael barked impatiently.

  “Okay, hold on. Let me search my database,” replied the driver.

  “Yes, you do that.” Michael rolled his eyes. People who drove transports were complete morons. The driver worked for the company, for Pete’s sake; it was his job to know the name of the platforms and where they were located.

  “Found it. Platform 2862.”

  Michael pulled out his communication device, speaking into it. “Dial Director Jonathan.”

  “Unable to connect. The director’s line is busy,” replied the computer voice.

  “Well, then, dial Director Santiago!” he shouted into the device. He watched as the transport took off, hovering over the grand city, the neon lights competing with the morning sun.

  “Accepted. Now dialing…”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Familiar sounds from the camp surrounded Kyle, ones that he hadn’t heard in years. Children playing and chasing each other while their mothers worked their given chores. Some of the women were huddled in groups as they labored, gossiping about the latest rumors. Others sat alone, singing in the wind. There were men’s voices too, but not nearly as many as the women. Surely there had to be more men in the camp. Where the hell were they?

  The morning air was brisk, but it was nothing compared to freezing his balls off last night with the authorities chasing his ass. He felt terrible for Emerald, as she had been like a block of ice when they finally arrived in the wastelands.

  Kyle finished grabbing some supplies from the commune dwelling. Fresh clothes, dried food, water canteens. All he needed was gas for his bike, and they would be set to cross the wastelands. It wasn’t too much farther to Illumina. Once they made it there, Emerald would be safe. Even Kyle knew that the king of Illumina didn’t give a shit about the king of Arcadia. He was a bit of a wild card and a nuisance, definitely Kyle’s kind of king. He decided if they left the camp at nightfall, it would give them more of a chance of not being spotted on their way.

  “Never thought I’d see your sorry ass back here,” a familiar voice called out as he was filling the canteens at the water basin.

  Kyle turned and saw Garrett. His old best friend hadn’t changed much. Same black hair in a faux hawk, same dark eyes, and deep-ebony skin inked with a pattern that mimicked a circuit board on his face.

  “Yeah, well, I missed eating dust for breakfast.”

  “Smart ass.” Garrett crouched next to Kyle as he continued to fill the second canteen. “How’ve you been, man? Besides being on the run from the king himself.” Garrett took a drink from his flask, then held it up to salute him. “That, my man, takes some serious balls.”

  Kyle finished filling the canteen, then snatched the flask from Garrett, taking a swig. The burning liquid felt energizing. “Thanks for asking. I’m doing pretty well, considering all the shit that hit the fan. By the way, thanks for that ID. Came in handy.”

  “It’s no wonder you needed one. Shit. Princess Emerald, huh? Next time you get me involved in one of your schemes, at least tell me who I’m risking my ass for.” Garrett laughed, retrieving his flask and taking a drink. “I heard that you had an encounter with a cyborg.”

  “The crazy ass tried to kill me and kidnap Em.”

  “Em?” Garrett raised an eyebrow.

  “Yeah, Em. You know, Princess Emerald,” Kyle said impatiently.

  Garrett cracked a smile. “Pet name?”

  “Whatever. Forget it.” Kyle snatched the flask out of Garrett’s hand, guzzling it.

  “Well, I have something to show you. It might explain a lot,” Garrett said, getting up.

  “I have to stop and see Victor first. He said he’d talk to me this morning,” Kyle said, lighting a cigarette.

  “Don’t worry. Victor’s already there waiting for us.”

  Kyle followed Garrett, smoking his cigarette. There had been improvements and changes that happened over the years, but there were still hardly any signs of the men.

  “So what’s the story with the camp? Where the hell is everyone?” Kyle asked casually.

  “Gone.”

  Kyle exhaled, continuing to study the camp as they zigzagged their way through the colorful tents. “They got smart too, huh?”

  “I’ll let Victor explain.”

  “Why do you got to be all cryptic and shit?”

  “Just hold your ass a little bit longer.”

  Garrett led Kyle to one of the larger trailers in the camp. Kyle smiled, shaking his head at the contraption.

  Good old cyber-drifters. They can’t get enough of that techy shit.

  Wires were strung out of the tinfoil-covered windows, all connecting to a satellite resting on top of the roof. As Kyle stepped inside, he saw the floor and walls were covered in wires that ran through multiple computers, screens, and keyboards, creating one giant machine. The room itself was in sheer blackness except for the bright colors flashing from the monitors and keyboards. In between all the wires and monitors were stacks of papers, trash, food wrappers, and empty soda cans.

  Kyle noticed Victor seated in front of one of the monitors, his chair turned toward Kyle.

  “What’s with all of this? Why bring me here?” Kyle motioned around with his chin, looking around. Computers bored him to tears. Give him an engine over a computer any day. “Does this have to do with that cyborg?” Kyle turned to face Victor. “I’m sure you heard about it if Garrett already knew.”

  “That is why I brought you here to talk.” Victor motioned for Kyle to have a seat. Kyle obliged, lighting up another cigarette.

  “There’s no smoking in here,” Garrett said.

  Annoyed, Kyle exhaled, then rubbed it into the floor, tossed the butt out the door, and seated himself again.

  “Victor, what the hell is going on?” Kyle demanded. “Where is everyone? Ryan freaked the hell out last night about Em entering camp, and Garrett just told me that some of the men are gone.”

  “Kyle, much has changed since you left.”

  “So everyone keeps telling me,” Kyle muttered.

  “Most of the men have been arrested.”

  Kyle shot up. “What? Why? Under whose jurisdiction?”

  “Arcadia’s,” Victor answered calmly. Garrett’s eyes darted in his direction, then he turned away to type on the computer.

  “On what charge?”

  “Violation of Arcadia’s Ordinance 1-969.”

  Rage pumped through Kyle’s chest. “And what the hell is that?”

  Garrett was still typing on his computer. “A new law that went into effect sometime after you left. It allows the authorities to arrest anyone found in Arcadia’s desert territories.”

  “The fuck is that shit?” Kyle snarled, slamming his hand on the table where the keyboards rested. Garret eyed him, warning him to be careful.

  “It happened infrequently during our usual supply runs,” Victor said. “Then it started happening more often. At first we thought the men had just decided to abandon the camp. After several runs, we learned the truth.”

  Kyle’s gaze looked at the floor, staring blankly. “If the men went missing, then how did you find out?”

  “Because Zayan made it back unseen several years back.”

  Kyle turned back to face Victor. “Several years? You mean to tell me that you’ve been sitting here for years, letting this shit happen and not doing a damn thing about it?”

  “Would you calm the fuck down and listen to Victor before running your mouth?” Garrett barked. “What do you think we’ve been doing this whole time?” Garrett typed at the computer, and two of the screens overhead changed.

  “What’s this? What am I looking at?” Kyle asked. The monitors streamed unfamiliar code, like a foreign language. “Does this have to do with the missing men?”

 
“It has everything to do with our missing men. And that cyborg that you encountered,” Victor stated, urging Garrett to continue. Garrett began to type again, more screens pulling up different pictures. Some of the faces Kyle recognized. Faces of men he knew growing up. Most of them his age.

  “Weeks ago, I finally cracked the code and was able to hack into Arcadia’s authorities’ mainframe. I was able to look at the case files of our camp’s men,” Garrett said. “One by one, I discovered that the men were being transferred to a place called Lab 34 immediately after being incarcerated.”

  “What is Lab 34?” Kyle asked. He hovered over Garrett’s shoulder, staring at the computer, as if staring would help him understand what the hell was going on. It was all gibberish to him, and it was pissing him off. “And what the hell is all this?”

  “These are the hacked files of Lab 34.” Garrett stopped typing, looking over to Victor.

  Victor sighed, his weary eyes looking tired. “Our men are being experimented on. The King’s corporation is turning them into cyborgs. He’s creating an army.”

  Kyle stared at the screens, dumbfounded. He wanted to punch somebody or something. His people were being experimented on? And to think he saw them first hand down in the lower levels during the riots, gunning people down.

  The fuck is wrong with the king of Arcadia? Did Em know of these experiments? Is that why she ran away?

  Thinking of Emerald suddenly made his gut twist. He hoped that she knew nothing of this, otherwise he wouldn’t know what to think of her.

  Kyle stood up and flexed in anger, clenching his jaw. He fumed, fighting a violent urge to punch the computer. Garret noticed his reaction, saying, “Please don’t hurt my equipment. I just replaced it recently.”

  Getting into Victor’s face, Kyle snarled, “So what are you planning to do about this, Victor?”

  Victor remained calm and collected, ignoring Kyle’s demeanor. “I am sure that you have noticed that these things are more powerful than your average robots,” he answered.

  “Kyle, all of the cyborgs have been infused with special blood,” Garrett added. “Some kind of magical blood.”

  Kyle’s gut twisted, spiraling into a bottomless pit. He felt sick. Really sick. If it was the King’s corporation experimenting on the wasteland wanderers, then it had to mean that the magical blood had come directly from Emerald. That was why she was being chased. She was at the center of the experimentation.

  Then Kyle remembered when Emerald had drawn that picture of herself in the band’s warehouse. Her, at the center of the wires, connected to machinery.

  She knew. She had to.

  Garrett pulled up another picture. It was the face of a man in his late forties, shaved head and glasses. It was the cyborg that chased them through Arcadia.

  “I recognize him,” Kyle said angrily. “Who is he?”

  “His name is Andrew Napoli. At least, that was his name before he was resurrected as a cyborg. Goes by Drew now. Apparently he was the only cyborg to develop his own magical properties from the blood sample.”

  His gut continued to churn while his blood boiled. “Garrett, does it say who the blood donor was?”

  Garret shook his head. “No, I can’t find anything on it.”

  “Dammit!” Kyle cursed, running his hands through his hair. His head was spinning, filled with animosity for the king of Arcadia. And now Emerald was involved with this shit too.

  Victor raised an eyebrow, cautiously choosing his words before he spoke. Everyone in the camp that knew him understood how much of a hothead he was. “Kyle, you understand that you cannot stay here in the camp longer than another night, right? Everyone is shaken that the princess is in the camp. With the King out searching for his daughter, and our people being experimented on, we can’t let you stay here. Not with her, as much as we would love to aid her escape from Damaris. The King is a dangerous man.”

  Kyle slammed his hand down on the table. “Well, no shit!” He calmed himself somewhat. “Don’t worry about it. I was planning to leave at nightfall.”

  Victor rose, his face serious. “Why was the princess running away from Damaris, exactly? Did she say?”

  Kyle suddenly thought of Emerald’s magic, but he knew better than to tell Victor. Even though he was pissed to the high heavens that Emerald was the cause of the experimentation, he shut his mouth. Kyle narrowed his eyes, then shrugged. “All she said was that she never left the palace and wanted out.”

  “I see.” Victor remained silent for a few moments, then continued. “Kyle, be careful. There is no way that we can figure out how to stop these things. This technology is greater than many have ever seen, including us. That magical blood gives them what appears to be a significant cell regeneration structure. They are hard to overcome. And if all of Arcadia is looking for the princess, it is only a matter of time before they do find her.”

  Kyle scowled, irritated at the thought. “I just wish there was a damn thing we could do for our people.” Kyle opened the door and left, lighting a cigarette. He had to think.

  “Don’t blame the princess,” Victor called out. “She is an innocent bystander in all of this. I am sure Damaris kept these plans secret to everyone except his Inner Council.”

  Bullshit. Em knew. She was the damn donor.

  “Whatever,” Kyle said, walking away, leaving it all behind him. His mind felt messed up all over again. What the fuck was he going to do?

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Ayera felt the airship jerk as it made contact with the docking platform. From the deck, she watched the crews secure a plank between her ship to the High Court citadel’s platform.

  When the plank was set, Ayera quickly crossed the suspended makeshift bridge, trying not to look down at the steel gray clouds below her. A storm was brewing, probably a snow storm, as in this region, this was the time of year that the earth below would be covered in it. But the stormy clouds beneath the bridge did not affect the vivid blue sky and white glowing sun above the atmosphere.

  Ayera had only visited the High Court citadel a handful of times, but each time was no less grand. The courtyard held a magnificent white sculpture of the God of Light, holding in his hand a prismatic orb to symbolize the Spectrum of Magic. There were white-marbled stairs lined with massive pillars that led directly into the floating ivory citadel. Clouds floated by in peaceful wisps. This is what Ayera imagined the God of Light’s domain would be like. A pure paradise in the heavens.

  Worry fluttered through her insides with each passing moment. Of all people, her sister was about to destroy the entire world. Her own sister.

  It deeply troubled Ayera, knowing that Ikaria had stolen the gifteds’ power and murdered three of them. Especially Lord Kohren. Ayera had been attached to him. He was always so attentive to her, and so kind. The only one who ever gave her any attention the last few years besides her sister.

  Ayera choked back tears just thinking about Lord Kohren, gone forever in this life. How could Ikaria do such a terrible thing?

  If only Ayera hadn’t been named heir to the throne, Ikaria wouldn’t be consumed with jealousy, craving the crown on her head and the man she loved. She’d be ruling World Sector Six with her cleverness and outsmarting the other sectors. Ayera might have been married off to another lord of the court, one with much more integrity and honor than Cyrus. Ikaria had always been the brighter one between them, completely studious in her younger years, preparing to rule when the time came. Ayera hated studying and never was good at it. She much preferred the art of dance and theatre and had no love to govern. But what she wanted didn’t matter, Ayera had to do what her father ordered her to do: be the Empress of World Sector Six and marry Ikaria’s fiancé.

  The only time Ayera had ever fought her father was when he’d told her to marry Cyrus. Emperor Ojin had been adamant—she must marry him. Ayera knew that the High Court had already approved of the match and pushed her father to not break the pact with World Sector Three. It had been signed by all partie
s; Cyrus was to marry his daughter. At the time the pact was signed, a vision came to High Priest Auron of Ayera’s ascent to the throne, confirmed by High Justice Tyllos of the Yellow. It had put the pact into question, since Cyrus was to marry Ikaria.

  But the High Court stepped in, giving judgment in the case. Cyrus was contracted to marry into the family, but no name was specified, and the Emperor Ojin could adhere to the pact by marrying Ayera off instead.

  And Ayera had absolutely no say. She had to obey. Otherwise Ikaria would be sent to World Sector Three to be under the close supervision of the high justices. And that was the one thing the Emperor Ojin did not want, as he’d whispered in secret to Ayera. Ikaria was to stay within World Sector Six’s court. Ayera’s father made her promise that she would do anything and everything to please the High Court and not provoke them. Ikaria would be of great use one day, her father was sure of it, and he didn’t want her power handed over to another sector.

  Ayera knew that Cyrus and Ikaria had already had each other sexually. It made it even more awful, since Ayera was still a virgin when they wed, knowing that Cyrus had already been active with her sister. Not only that, she was not attracted to Cyrus in the least. Ayera much preferred a man like Lord Kohren, quiet and humble, instead of an angry drunken flirt like Cyrus. He and Ikaria would have made the perfect couple. Ikaria was always angry on the inside, Cyrus was always angry on the outside. Both loved to sample the earthly desires of the flesh.

  Not her. Ayera wanted to keep herself pure and do as little of her wifely duties as possible, especially with her lecherous husband. In a way, it would stave off her having an heir, and in return, her sister could have her legitimacy reinstated to the throne, since she was next in line. It was Ayera’s silent way of purging the guilt from her body for her assuming the throne and marrying Cyrus, her way of apologizing without words. But now since finding out the truth about her sister’s plans, there was no need for silent apologies. Everything had changed.