The Augenspire (Origins of Elaria Book 1)

by V. St. Clair

  “You mind telling me what a full-spectrum D-R is doing in Physman, other than starting fights with our resident members?” one of the guards asked pointedly, sizing Carl up as though trying to decide whether he could take him in a fight.

  “I was just coming to see Risa before afternoon classes—which we are now late for, by the way—and saw those two sacks of idiocy trying to assault her in her own room. Since it didn’t seem like dorm security could be counted on to protect its residents—what do they pay you for, by the way?—I decided to intervene.”

  One of the guards looked like he was ready to punch Carl for getting mouthy, but it seemed they weren’t willing to casually start a fight with a full-spectrum Gifted after all.

  “Is that true?” the other guard asked Risa with a raised eyebrow, ignoring Carl’s insult entirely.

  “Yes. You both know Harry and Paul have been giving me a hard time all year; I’ve filed several complaints against them, if you’d care to check their files. I couldn’t fight both of them off by myself, and if Carl hadn’t helped me I don’t know what horrible thing they would have done to me by now.”

  “Harry broke a leg from the fall to the floor below, and has several broken fingers which he says you caused, by stomping on them,” the guard leveled an accusing stare at her, as though this was a completely unnecessary act of violence she had committed against Harry.

  “Like I said, I was minding my own business—in a private space, no less—when they came into my room, uninvited, and decided to pick a fight with me,” Risa insisted stubbornly, balling her hands into fists and resisting the urge to shout at them.

  The two men glanced at each other briefly at this breach in common courtesy. Everyone knew what a big no-no it was to enter someone else’s room without permission, and even enemies usually afforded each other some basic respect.

  “Paul has several obvious broken bones in his face,” the guard continued, without commenting on her self-defense. “The full extent of his damage has yet to be assessed.”

  Carl shrugged as though to say, “What do you want me to do about it?”

  The guards frowned and said, “A report will be added to both of your files and the Provo-Minor will be notified. I suggest you two stay out of trouble for the remainder of the day.”

  Risa scowled at them both as they left. The last thing any of them needed right now was to draw the attention of the Provo.

  “Well, that could have gone better,” Carl said lamely, getting to his feet and running his fingers through his blond hair before grimacing at the dried blood on them. “I’ll step out of the room and wash this blood off of me while you change clothes, then we’d better get to class. We’re late enough as is.”

  Risa nodded mutely and waited for the door to close behind him before springing to her feet and pulling on the first clothes she could find, a mismatched pair of green pants and an orange shirt. Ignoring the general mess in the room and wondering what her roommate would think about it, she grabbed her book bag and hurried out to meet Carl again.

  They didn’t talk much as they walked down the hall, riding down the elevator in silence and then parting in front of the dormitory to go their separate ways. Carl looked as distracted as she felt, staring off into space and deep in thought. There were still flecks of blood on his shirt from the fight with Paul, but he didn’t seem worried about it. Risa wanted to ask what he was seeing in his mind’s eye, but didn’t have the nerve to. It wasn’t until he was walking away from her that she called out to him.

  “Carl!”

  He stopped and looked back at her, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

  “I just wanted to say…thanks for your help back there, and sorry you got into trouble for it.”

  He pursed his lips as though annoyed by her gratitude but said, “No problem.”

  “Are you—” she almost asked if he was going to be at Hera’s meeting tonight. “Will I see you tonight?” she asked instead, not knowing if there were hidden video or audio feeds in the area. One could never be sure if they were being watched in the Academy or not, though they usually felt safer outdoors.

  Carl frowned and said, “No, I don’t think it would be a good idea after what happened today. We should both probably cancel our plans for the time being.”

  And with that he walked off.

  Risa turned the opposite direction and jogged towards the main Physman building in a miserable mood. She knew Carl was right to suggest they not attend any of Hera’s meetings in the near future, until they were sure they had dropped off the Provo’s radar. She hated the thought of being stagnant while the movement went on without her.

  This wouldn’t have happened if we were allowed to lock our damn doors, she thought moodily, entering the school building and heading directly to class. She passed two Provo-Minor in the hallway—they looked particularly sinister with their sweeping black robes over their grey suits—who watched her with keen interest as she passed them. Fortunately they didn’t speak to her, and she was able to enter her Mathematics of Space class without incident.

  Risa was woefully unfocused during her lessons that afternoon, doodling idly in the margins of her notebook instead of taking notes and wondering whether they were going to be in any real trouble for the skirmish that afternoon. It didn’t seem fair for them to be punished for defending themselves in a fight they hadn’t even started, but then, when was life for the Gifted ever fair?

  She personally didn’t think the Provo-Minor cared one bit whether all the Gifted annihilated each other within the Academy or not, but perhaps they worried about a brawl with Gifts getting out of control and causing major damage to the city. Not an unreasonable fear, with some of the Gifts people around here had.

  So all evening she waited for a knock on the door, signaling the arrival of the Provo-Minor coming to take her away for an interview. She cleaned her room while her roommate sighed loudly at the prospect of having more unwanted visitors that night. Then she went to take a long, hot shower, all the while wondering if the report had been filed yet, if someone had read it yet, and—more importantly—whether that “someone” cared enough to come bother her.

  By the time she went to bed she was more high-strung than ever. She wanted to believe no one would come to interrogate her in the middle of the night, but one could never be sure of anything where the Provo were concerned. They might come for her at night just to unsettle her and make her more likely to give them the answers they wanted; maybe they’d chemically interrogate her until she gave up what she knew about Hera, and they’d send her to the Augenspire to never be seen or heard from again…

  Stop being paranoid. You aren’t that important, she told herself.

  It was probably true. Her Gift was relatively benign in the grand scheme of things, and as much as the Provo were determined to keep order in the Academy, even they could surely understand a woman defending herself when under attack by two men. Nothing about her story would interest them.

  She snapped awake to see sunlight streaming in through an opening between the curtains. She couldn’t even remember falling asleep, but she’d somehow passed the entire night away without incident.

  Well, I was right. No one has come to get me yet…

  Risa exhaled in relief. It was much easier to be logical about the entire thing by daylight. She got up and dressed for classes, pinning her curly hair away from her face and hurrying to get breakfast from the main lobby before going to lessons.

  The line to the cafeteria on the ground floor of Building-3 was absurdly long, and she had no desire to wait for fifteen minutes just to get a measly bagel. Instead, she left the dormitory and jogged over to the small courtyard across the roadway as a bus passed by, where the line was considerably shorter.

  She had just purchased a fruit-filled pastry and turned to walk away when someone tapped her on the shoulder.

  She nearly jumped out of her skin, letting out a small shriek and whirling around, expecting an attack. Here it was, the thing
she was dreading since yesterday: the Provo were coming to take her away.

  “Sorry!” Jonathan held up his hands apologetically. “I didn’t mean to scare you, but you didn’t answer when I called your name so I was trying to get your attention.”

  Risa was so relieved it wasn’t the Provo, she actually laughed out loud, which made nearby bystanders look concerned for her wellbeing.

  “You scared the living daylights out of me,” she touched her free hand to her chest. “I thought you were someone—”

  “I wanted to ask if you’ve seen Carl yet today—or if he’s called you—or…anything,” Jonathan cut her off mid-sentence, looking worried.

  Jonathan was Carl’s close friend in Deco-Reco, though as far as Risa knew he wasn’t affiliated with Hera’s group in any way.

  “What? No, I haven’t—but it’s first thing in the morning. I usually don’t talk to him until lunch time at the earliest. Why?”

  Jonathan frowned and said, “Well, he said he was with you yesterday afternoon, and that you two got into a spot of trouble,” he explained nervously, darting glances all around them. “He didn’t say much about it, but late last night I woke up because there were people in the hall, and I saw the Provo-Minor come to talk to him. They weren’t there long before they took him away. He hasn’t been back to his room ever since, so I wasn’t sure if he had called you or anything…”

  Risa’s eyes widened in horror and she felt like her heart had stopped beating in her chest.

  No…not Carl…

  All this time she had been worried about herself, when she really should have been thinking of Carl. Of course the Provo would be more interested in his abilities than in hers, especially if they thought he might be persuaded to use them for the good of the government.

  “I’m sorry to upset you; you obviously don’t know any more than I do,” Jonathan said awkwardly. “I’ve got to get to class now, but I’ll keep looking for him during breaks. I’m sure he’ll turn up soon and everything will be fine.”

  He drifted away while saying this, but Risa didn’t care. She was standing at the edge of a very long tunnel, gazing into the blackness, screaming and screaming inside her own head. She had already lost one boy she cared about to the Provo; was she doomed to lose another?

  If so, she would never rest until she had murdered every member of the Viceroy’s family and every Provo she could find, or until they finally killed her.

  4

  Topher Augen

  ~

  Sometimes it feels like I’m floating,

  Out of my body and into a void of nothingness.

  At those times I count myself fortunate.

  Mostly all I can feel is the pain.

  And I pray for death.

  ~

  Topher scanned the biochip on the inside of his wrist to activate the downward elevator, one of only four able to come to the top levels of the Augenspire. Everyone on the planet Elaria had a similar biochip in their wrist—it was mandatory at birth; a person’s entire identity and all credentials were loaded into the chip, but only a few hundred people on the entire planet had sufficient clearance to reach the top forty floors of the Augenspire.

  He stepped into the elevator and palmed the button for the two-hundredth floor, where he would be forced to switch over to another elevator that would take him to the lower levels. The elevator sealed and pressurized slightly before moving, to prevent any unpleasant lightheadedness or nosebleeds as a result of its rapid descent. The elevator moved so quickly it almost felt like freefall, and indeed, there were handles all around the interior wall of the elevator for those who felt the need to hold on.

  Topher did not, simply closing his eyes and counting to five, bending his knees slightly as the elevator abruptly braked and the resistance increased. He stepped onto the two-hundredth level and palmed the button for the next elevator downward, still replaying the conversation he’d just had with the Viceroy in his head.

  The ruler of their entire planet had stood calmly before him and asked Topher if he was trying to murder him.

  “Why would I want you dead?” Topher had asked incredulously, stung by the accusation.

  “Well,” the Viceroy began ticking the reasons off of his fingers. “Those who get power always tend to want more of it, and I have given you quite a lot of power for someone so young. Some of my other advisors argue that your low connections compel you to strike out at those born above you. Most of my other Majors are fairly easy for me to read, but I am never certain I know what you’re truly thinking, which makes you somewhat unpredictable. Then there’s the negotiations to marry off Jessamine to Darius Hamish’s son, which must displease you.”

  Topher could easily deny all of the allegations except for the last, which did indeed strike home for him. He winced minutely at the fact that the Viceroy had picked up on his feelings for Jessamine, which he had been doing his best to hide for several years now.

  Weighing his words carefully, because the man before him could sentence him to death without even a trial, Topher said, “I think you have been badly advised, Excellency. I have never lusted for power, only to serve as my father before me, and I feel nothing but loyalty for the man who has given me the opportunity to do so. And his family, of course,” he added. “As to my opacity…I do certainly have my own private thoughts, but they rarely concern matters of government, and I have always been very straightforward with you; too much so, according to my peers.”

  The Viceroy watched him carefully while he spoke, though he didn’t look surprised by anything he was hearing.

  “And the last?” he prompted.

  “It is a wise political move, and the resulting alliance will consolidate more financial power to your family. The Hamishes control the majority of the world’s shipping routes. It will give you an enormous amount of control over half the world’s waterways, and therefore, the economy,” Topher answered neutrally.

  The Viceroy’s lips twitched briefly into a smile as he said, “I’m not asking you to explain my own decisions to me, nor to validate them. I’m asking for your personal feelings regarding the situation.”

  Topher grimaced and said, “And I am asking you for permission to not answer that question, Excellency.”

  The Viceroy didn’t look surprised by this either, though he did frown thoughtfully.

  “Topher,” he sighed regretfully. “I hope you know my decision was based purely on the political and economic advantages you have just enumerated for me, and not on any personal agenda. I would also point out that I would never marry off my daughter against her wishes, so she too has seen and agreed to the value of the match for her—come to think of it, it was her suggestion in the first place. Truthfully, I would rather have you as a son than that—than Hamish, but those who bear the name of Elaria are not free to make such whimsical choices.”

  The ruling family had adopted the surname ‘Elaria’ as soon as they colonized the planet, and had kept it ever since. It was intended to demonstrate that they had a right to rule, so intertwined with the fate of Elaria they even bore its name.

  To Topher, the name was nothing but a fancy anchor around Jessamine’s neck, preventing him from ever telling her how he felt and hoping to win her love in return. The only surprising thing about this entire depressing conversation was the Viceroy admitting to preferring him as a prospective son-in-law, aside from his low family connections. It was the first time in Topher’s life he ever wished he had been born as wealthy and entitled as his colleagues.

  “Thank you for your candor, Excellency,” he responded carefully.

  The Viceroy narrowed his features and said, “I need to know if this will become a problem. Are you still able to defend my family—Hamishes included—or would you rather be assigned elsewhere for a while?”

  Topher could think of nothing he wanted less than to be removed from the capital, or from Jessamine’s side. It would be agony to see her with a man so undeserving of her, but he couldn’t imagine lea
ving her safety to another while he went off to mope about it at some remote outpost.

  And as the Viceroy said, she did help arrange the union, so she isn’t being forced. Maybe she even likes him…

  “There is no problem, Excellency,” he answered immediately. “It is my duty and my honor to serve and defend the members of your household, even if they include Hamishes.”

  The Viceroy tilted his head fractionally to the side and said, “Others will call me a fool, but I believe you. Please do not make me regret my trust.”

  Topher bowed and removed himself from the room, ostensibly to go see the Provo-Minor about beginning surveillance on the southwest end of the financial district. Mostly he just wanted to escape before he managed to put his foot in his mouth too badly with the Viceroy.

  Snapping back to the present, Topher found himself standing in the east office wing on the twenty-second floor of the Augenspire without remembering how he got there. It only now occurred to him the Viceroy had never properly discussed the fact that he thought someone in his own government was trying to murder him. Since it was Topher’s job to prevent such a thing, it was really something he should follow up on with the man later…

  “Sir?” one of the Provo-Minor asked him tentatively from his desk, where he had four television monitors displaying different video footage of classrooms in the Academy, all of which were currently paused. The office itself was large enough to be a small warehouse, with an open floorplan full of desks facing each other in neat little L-shapes. Most of them had a bank of monitors like the ones in front of him, though they displayed a wide variety of different things to go with each of the Provo-Minors’ different tasks. Everything from supply lists to Academy rosters to financial spreadsheets for the accounting of their standing army, and anything in between was worked on in here. The Provo-Minor offices were massive, consuming the entirety of the twentieth to the twenty-third floor of the Augenspire.