by Thomas Davis
“It’s just the game…” Louis collapsed on the floor, his words vanished into the dusty air. The pain from his injuries finally made him blackout.
Catherine just sat there and watched him for a few moments. She reached into his jacket, removed his black comb, and meticulously groomed his hair. Without force, she placed the comb back into his breast pocket then stood to her feet. Outside, the sirens were blaring and mingling with cries of help. She wondered how many people would survive this – how many would remember her part in this? Her breathing was deep and full, a stark contrast to her walk to the door. She looked back at Louis passed out beneath his heavy desk. He looked so peaceful. She imagined this was how death was, like sleep. She had always imagined death was a gruesome event that left you kicking and screaming, but seeing Louis in this position somehow passed on courage to her. An awkward smile passed her face briefly as she walked out of the office that had chained her career.
She closed the door to the office and felt the looseness of the broken doorknob in her hand.
Her hand trembled despite her effort to steady it. Calmly, she pulled off her right shoe, then let out a scream that was full of anguish. Without breaking form, she violently smashed the shoe into the doorknob repeatedly while screaming. Her scream didn't stop until the knob broke free from the door and rolled across the floor. She fell back against the door then slowly slid down to the floor.
There was a crashing sound down the hall. Someone had kicked the stairway door open.
“Is anyone up here?” A large man asked as he jogged up the hallway. He stopped in front of Catherine and appraised the situation. His Station Security uniform was torn and burnt in different parts and what he had on was fabric and skin.
“Miss Fisher, are you okay? Can you stand?” When she didn't respond the man carefully picked her up in his arms and carried her down the hall towards the stairs.
“Is there anyone else on this floor? Have you seen anyone?”
“No…” she groaned. “No. It's just me.”
16 Longing
Adeola slowly opened her eyes. Her vision was blurry and everything was a shade of red or purple. There was a voice. Her perception was too foggy to decipher whose it was. “Jake?” Her sight began to clear and her other senses slowly returned. “Nyasi?” Adeola could now vaguely make out her sister’s normally stoic face. But Nyasi’s face betrayed a myriad of emotions. Concern, joy, fear, relief, regret, they all sprung from her visage like a dam bursting. Adeola felt guilty for what she put Nyasi through. She was selfish, childish, and her sister had to suffer for her mistakes. She couldn’t move but she felt Nyasi squeezing her hand tightly and speaking words she was too disoriented to make out.
Adeola was dismayed and cursed herself. She should have felt joy in this moment. Being reunited with her sister, being in a place where she was safe, protected, but she wasn’t happy. Sadness gripped her soul. She was returning to a world where she didn’t fit in. A place she ran from. A world where no one noticed how much pain she was in. To make matters worse the only person who truly knew her, who shared that subtle agony, will be a galaxy away. Adeola mustered all the strength she had and squeezed her sister’s hand back. To let Nyasi know, that she would be okay. Adeola knew she would eventually bump heads with her sister and the rest of her family. She was done with being who everyone around her wanted her to be. She would walk her own path, speak with her own voice, and fight for her own ideals.
Perhaps her little excursion to Lhasa was no accident. Perhaps she was meant to go there. She always felt that something was amiss on her home world. That her people were too stuck in their ways and it was holding them back. There was a cruel bloodlust that infected their culture. If left unchecked it could lead them to their end. Instead of running from what they were, maybe, she could guide them to something better. Now that she had a better understanding of herself, she was eager to help others. Adeola had a mission now, a reason to fight.
***
Jacob was on an escape pod hurtling away from the remains of Lhasa. It was less a pod and more like a small transport vessel, which was capable of housing up to fifty people. It was referred to as a pod because it lacked a cockpit. If the need was great enough even a child could launch a pod from the Station to safety. A simple design, No pilot, no landing gear, just a rocket that could get civilians a safe distance from the station with a communication array and enough supplies to last until help arrived.
Survivors surrounded Jake, but he was still alone. His thoughts were of Adeola. When they met she had threaten to kill him. But now all he was just thinking about was her smile. The thought of it made him smile. That smile eventually faded. He wondered if she was okay, if she was safe, but most of all, if he’d ever see her again. It was like a piece of him was missing. He gazed down at his missing limb. Yesterday a loss like this would have destroyed him but he was stronger now. He could bare this pain because he wasn’t just living for himself anymore. There was a universe that existed outside of his mind that he was eager to explore. He tapped his right index finger three times at where his left wrist would’ve been. He could still feel his left hand, his fingers wiggling, like a phantom limb. Out of habit he had attempted to update. He shook his head.
Due to space limitations, David ended up leaving on a different pod. They agreed to seek each other out once they got their feet back on solid ground. For the first time since he freed Adeola from the egg, Jake was alone again. He used to relish his time alone. Time to solve a puzzle or engage in a hobby but after letting others in, opening up. He realized he spent most of that time alone because he found it too difficult to connect with other people. He tried to hide his awkwardness by keeping his distance. But he finally knew that it was okay to be awkward. Everyone was working through something.
Jake’s thoughts drifted to the sword. Sadly, he had to ditch the exotic weapon in a storage locker outside of the evacuation facility. David convinced him that it would be impossible to bring it along. He finally admitted to himself that it was the right move but still it ate at him to leave it behind. He decided he would go back for it one day. Why was he so fascinated by the weapon? Why did he need it so badly? He felt like he had earned the blade. It was his Excalibur. He took action and won the sword from its former wielder. He looked at his wound. That weapon saved his life in the end. Being brave in that moment in the alley lead to his survival. He was more capable than he knew but he had to keep pushing himself. If he wasn’t brave enough, he may never see her again.
***
Catherine sat near the front of the pod. She would occasionally steal a glance at Jacob. She looked at his missing hand and a part of her was so overcome with guilt, she was tempted to go over to him and confess. I’ve scarred that poor boy for life, she thought. The impulse to unburden her conscience came and went. She wasn’t built for the kind of punishment that awaited someone who had trespassed as she had. Her survival instinct kept her guilt in check. I can make it right some other way, she thought. “Rotting away on a prison moon isn’t going to replace what he’s lost. I promise, I’ll make this right somehow, kid. Once I make it I won’t forget your sacrifice.”
Her thoughts drifted to Louis Johnston. “There was no way to save him,” she convinced herself. “You didn’t kill him. That’s not on you. People would’ve died trying to remove that fool from beneath that ridiculous desk. He was a victim of his own hubris.” She leaned forward in her seat and placed her face into her palms. “I couldn’t help him, he was too far gone to save. There was nothing I could do to help.” These internal conversations were exhausting. “I did the right thing. I locked that door to save others from a pointless rescue attempt.” As hard as she tried, she couldn’t convince herself of the righteousness of her actions outside of Louis Johnston’s office.
Catherine felt uncomfortable being packed into such a small space with so many people. People always made her feel uneasy. She treasured her time away from others. She had been trying to recede away into h
er bubble as she often did behind her locked office door. But every now and then, a rescue worker would provide her with an unasked for update pertaining to the current situation. These updates were frequent. Were they reporting to her? She pulled out her data pad and went through the known survivors list. After a few moments of research the answer became all too clear.
The municipal plaza was on a section of the station that took direct fire from the Arez canons. Everyone above Catherine had died in the attack. She was in charge right now. An anxiety came over her. She had been technically leading the Station Security Department behind the scenes for over a year. But to officially be the leader, was new for her. This was the recognition she was searching for but now that she had it, it was terrifying. Her knee began to tremble. She quickly clutched it with her hand before anyone else noticed. She was slowly gaining the attention of the other passengers. The keen eyed among the citizenry had noticed the station personnel reporting to her and word was spreading.
Catherine knew what needed to be done but she didn’t know if she was capable of pulling it off. She had to speak to these people, to wear the mask of the leader they wanted. She’d always been an introvert, always an invisible face in the crowd. In this moment, her future hinged upon her ability to be anyone else. She thought of trying to imitate Governor Manning but that wouldn’t work. Manning’s speech delivery was too confident and seasoned. It took time to develop that level of competency. It wasn’t something that could be aped.
She considered Louis Johnston’s style of oration. It was a golden smile delivering feel good catch phrases. He could also captivate an audience but it was with charisma alone. He wasn’t a man of substance or talent. Just a man gifted with a magnetism that drew people to him. He had aura that lured people into trusting him. Another dead end, she thought. Catherine had spent her short lifetime repelling others because behind all of her defenses was an exposed nerve. She was far more sensitive than she let on. Constant fear of being hurt by others had molded her into an island. This speech had to be in her voice but that would leave her vulnerable, laid bare in front of everyone. The only way this was going to work would be for her to lower defenses and dive in headfirst.
“I need an open line to all of the pods.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
Catherine waited as the worker made preparations.
“It’s ready Ma’am.”
She took a deep breath then turned to face the citizens in the pod. “People…. People of,” her voice cracked. She accepted that small defeat and pushed forward. “I’m Director of Station Security. Catherine Fisher,” she struggled to get the words out as she corrected her posture. The crowd looked unimpressed.
“People of Lhasa… my fellow Terrans…. Today our Liberty, our very way of life came under attack. Thousands of our fellow citizen’s lives were cut short by an uncompromising evil. The Arez hate us because our existence, our culture, is a shining example of everything they can never achieve. This was a cowardly attempt to destroy us, but they’ve failed. The only thing our enemy accomplished on this day was to steel our resolve. We will not be intimidated. We will not be made afraid. They can take our home, they can take our lives, but they can never defeat us. Mark my words my fellow Lhasans, there will be justice for the human blood that was shed today. Together we will exact that justice. Together we will march forward into a future free of fear and tyranny.”
There was silence. She had opened herself up for the ultimate rejection and this was it. The words were there but the delivery of the speech was just as awkward as Catherine was. Her heart sank as she braced herself for jeers and ridicule. An old woman, in her late 70s, slowly stood up from her seat. She starred at Catherine for a moment then began to clap her hands. A man in the back corner of the pod stood up and followed suit, then another denizen, and another. Soon everyone aboard the pod was on their feet and applauding in support of Catherine’s speech. The same was happening on the other pods.
The words, and sentiment were enough. The people just wanted to be reassured in their hour of need. They wanted a story that put them at the center and made them feel good about themselves. That let them lament what was lost while focusing them against a common evil. Everything worked out better than Catherine could have possibly imagined. A wave of relief washed over her. She stole another glance at Jake. He was silently sitting alone cradling his left forearm. He was the only person still seated. He looked up at her and she quickly adverted her eyes. The guilt of her earlier deeds came rushing back into her mind. The citizens aboard the pod began to crowd around her. The crowd eventually blocked Jake from Catherine’s view. She was finally free to enjoy her small victory free from the weight of his presence.
***
The pod shook as if it hit turbulence. The disturbance originated from the Lhasa colony. The emergency energy shields surrounding Lhasa had finally died. The atmosphere within the colony was violently expelling into space taking small structures and objects with it. Vehicles, bodies, household items, and other debris spewed from the gaping holes in the station’s exterior. This chaos within the station lasted for minutes until there was complete silence. A stillness, the total absence of life and the environmental requirements to sustain it. Lhasa’s interior had become one with the vast emptiness of space. This place that was once home to so many was now a lifeless husk drifting through the cosmos. Lhasa was now a part of the past.
Epilog
Jake waited in a large group with his fellow refugees at Trinity Outpost. Trinity Outpost was located on the moon of Encel, which orbited planet Selaphiel. Jake and the other refugees were picked up by rescue vessels close to a week ago floating in the space near Lhasa. The journey to Trinity was a trying one and it was a relief to be on solid ground again. Lhasa and Jophiel were dangerously close to neutral space but no Arez force would dare trespass as far as Selaphiel and Encel. The previous war didn’t even reach this far into Terran space.
Jake was clenching then relaxing his new prosthetic left hand. He underwent the painful surgery to have it installed just hours before. It felt tight, which was odd, like it wasn’t a part of him yet. The nurses told him that it would take time to adjust to the new appendage. It looked similar to a Frame’s hand with the occasional exposed section of gears and shifting mechanisms. These exposed areas were nessesary for the hand to have as full of a range of motion as his original. He had a phantom sensation. It felt like he had two left hands on one arm. Slightly out of sync with one another.
Jake was wearing a new Navi device on his left wrist, which was given to him by the Outpost personnel. He came close to updating several times but stopped. He’d been triple tapping his left wrist all week but now that he had a Navi, he was hesitant. Maybe he was waiting until after he saw them. Even though he was still missing a new pair of specs, he touched the bridge of his nose out of habit, as he often did when feeling anxious or perplexed. A woman in a military uniform approached the group, “Takeda…Jacob Takeda?” Jake stood up and stepped forward. “We’re ready for you. Please follow me.” She escorted Jake down a long hallway. They came to a door and she held out her wrist underneath a scanner on an adjacent panel. The door slid open and she gestured for Jake to enter alone. Once inside she tapped the panel to close the door behind him.
There was a chair at the center of the small room dark room with a data pad mounted onto the left arm of it. As he sat down he observed the welcome graphic for the Shangri-La Ghost server displayed on the pad. There were five circles overlay on top of the graphic, a fingerprint scanner. Jake took a deep breath before pressing his left hand to the pad. There was no response. He made another attempt. Annoyed he looked at his new robotic hand. “Obviously the geniuses responsible for this interface didn’t factor in amputees,” he quipped. He spent the next few moments contorting his right hand to work the sinister fingerprint scanner. He was on the verge of frustration before he noticed an unlabeled icon in the corner of the screen. With a tap of the icon the screen flipped to a rig
ht-handed scan. “Okay, my apologies to the geniuses.”
With that inconvenience behind him, Jake took another breath then touched his fingerprints to the data pad. He wasn’t sure of what awaited him or how this was going to play out but he was also looking forward to seeing them again. Two round projectors on the floor began to spin and sprung to life with rainbow-like patterns of light. As two holographic humanoid forms began to take shape, Jake adjusted his clothing and made sure to sit up straight. The projector on the left conked out and went dark.
The woman’s voice spoke to him over an intercom, “Sorry about that. These things have been running all day. Just give it a minute, okay.”
A holographic image of Travis Takeda had already taken shape above the right projector, “Son?”
“Pop?”
“Son…. Delete the holo-vids on my private data pad. Don’t look at them, just delete them.”
“Sigh… It’s good to see you, Pop.”
“It’s good to see you too son,” Travis smiled.
“So Shangri-La…. What’s it like there?”
“I can’t put it into to words but… it’s paradise.”
Jake smiled, he was relived that the suffering his parents endured in the attack at least resulted in them moving on to a higher plain of existence. They were happy there.
“Was this my fault?”
“What?”
“The thing I brought into the colony. Was it a bomb, some kind of weapon? Is that what happened to Lhasa?”
Jake was surprised to hear his father assume blame for the tragedy. Jake was putting all of that responsibility on himself. He didn’t want his father to carry that burden. He began constructing a tale in his head, to absolve his old man, but he needed more information. “What do you remember, Pop?”
