by Eric Swanson
“Handle it?” Micah finished the Guardsman’s question, saving him from another moment of mumbles.
Horon nodded once more, this time surer.
“Look around us for a moment, Horon.”
The Guardsman complied and saw nothing much different than before his King approached the dining area. Dozens milled about the suite and all fell into just five categories. Black-clad Guardsmen like Horon, White-clad Carers (mostly women), more brightly colored members of the political elite (close Royal-hangers-on) and Micah, Aquis and Davin.
“What do you see?” Micah asked.
“Waiters, Guardsmen, Carers…” Horon took inventory somewhat slowly. He gestured to his King. “Royals… And some politicians.”
“… And can you think of something these people have in common?” Micah asked another question, sticking to his script word-for-word.
“I..” Horon seemed lost in the thought for a moment, the gears of cognition turning slowly. After a quiet moment, he gave up. “I’m unsure, Highness.”
“That’s ok, Horon.” Micah turned back to the rest of the crowd and noted Garreous, alone on the observation deck. The gifted young man stared at the early second half Antisar action absently, his face hung just a bit, sad. “These people, my Guardsmen friend…” Micah turned back to face Horon. “They work to support me, my family and the daily operation of the Pillar.”
Horon began to nod once more, still quite slowly.
“I handle it, Horon, because they handle it.” Micah let that thought settle for a moment. “Horon, thank you for your service to the Pillar.”
“My King.” Horon bowed deeply once again, more calm.
Micah nodded and walked toward Garreous and the observation deck. As the King moved toward the glass between the suite and the observation deck, the clear enclosure slid open. A fresh roar rose from the crowd as they saw the King approach the edge of the deck and several Guardsmen stepped in behind the Mimic.
Garreous took a surprised step back from the railing after a low whine wobbled about the deck. A just-barely visible bubble screen flowed down from the ceiling of the deck and fell over the railing to the floor’s edge. A few steps into his retreat from the deck’s edge, Garreous’s left shoulder lightly bumped Micah’s right.
A flash of frustration hit Garreous and his face twisted with it as he turned toward his obstacle. Immediately seeing Micah the young genius spun, Garreous’s hands instinctively came up, palms out, the beginnings of a mumbled apology falling over his lips. The crowd roared again as more saw their King. “Your Highness, I had—”
“It’s fine.” Micah mouthed, as he knew the noise from the crowd would wash away any sound he might make. He held a finger up and gestured past Garreous, toward the jubilant gathering below. More action below drew more cheers from the crowd. Asaa finished a scoring play with authority and he almost hopped back down the court to play defense.
As Asaa moved, he waved his arms up and down and screamed to his team’s rabid supporters. In the same beat his eyes fell upon Micah and Garreous on the Royal Deck, the young star stopped in his tracks and saluted his King. The crowd cheered for the show of respect and love for the Crown and again for Micah’s response.
“Garreous…” Micah put a hand on the Ceran’s shoulder and leaned nearer. A pang of oddly mixed fear and regret struck Micah as he realized his error in touching Garreous. The scientist nearly recoiled from his touch in shock. Micah took his hand away and leaned in even closer. “Someone much wiser than I said this long ago… Failure may be our best educator.”
Tension melted from Garreous’s face as Micah’s words truly landed.
“Don’t focus on what hasn’t worked. Focus on the opportunities those failures will reveal.”
Chapter Seven
(The Sixth Day)
0415 Hours
Micah sat at the table in the middle of his apartment, a few tablets strewn on the surface, all softly lit blue by a monochromatic three-dimensional rendering of a planet that floated above the table. Micah stared at the planet, his face lit much like the tablets. It spun at an accelerated pace, an Earth day passing approximately every 5 minutes.
Micah reached out and touched the globe on a landmass in the Western hemisphere and the digital planet zoomed in and a large city appeared. Massive buildings and a weaving network of roads housed millions. Most impressive to Micah was the city stretched out from the center for miles… Ceran cities tended to be more managed in size and rarely stretched outward more than a handful of miles in any direction.
“SAMI, what is the current population of this city?” Micah asked, zooming in on a densely populated shoreline.
SAMI beeped softly once in acknowledgement then replied. “The Earth city of Chicago held eight million people at last update via the explorers Pollai and Kaymar.”
“Amazing.” Micah whispered. “Look how near their oceans, lakes and rivers Earthlings live, SAMI…”
“Indeed, Micah. The presence of Earth’s Lunar body heavily influences their tides. The predictability of the ebbs and flows of water allow for settlement nearly in the water.” SAMI said. Another soft beep. “Would you like to know more about Earth’s tides or their moon?”
“No, SAMI. Thank you.” Micah tuned away from the blue orb and the image zoomed out to a low orbit-like view. He picked up a tablet and flipped through a few passages. The history of several large-scale military conflicts among the humans enthralled the Hybrid for a few silent minutes. “SAMI… Nearly their entire planet was involved in the same war on four occasions…”
“That is correct, Micah.” SAMI beeped once more and continued. “In the century and a half before The Gathering, humans loyal to political movements, called countries, allied with other countries and warred en masse against one another. The cause for each of these conflicts varied with each World War, as the humans called them, but the results of each were largely the same: millions dead, entire cities destroyed… horrifying weapons deployed to devastating effect.”
“What would cause that many people to want that…” Micah wondered aloud.
“In most cases, the desire for war was driven by the goals of a small handful of humans intent upon the consolidation of political and economic power for themselves.”
“So… money and more of their colors on a map?”
“Essentially, Micah, yes.”
Throughout Ceran history, internal conflict had arisen but rarely took the form of military action. Thousands of years of world peace were secured by wise and kind stewardship from the Royal Families of Ceres. Elected officials subject to term limits and occasional direct democracy referendums seldom gathered enough individual power to abuse and their society simply rolled on. The Filan Exodus thousands of years before the Gathering was the last true armed conflict before the Filan Wars ended that strife in the most traumatic manner possible: genocide.
While war wasn’t foreign to the people of Ceres nor the Hybrids living among them, most fighting occurred due to a clear threat to the Ceran way of life rather than a catalyst like territory or power itself. Sadly, wars started over clear and present danger to a society result in (often) more bloodshed than truly required.
“How different is our history?” Micah asked, quietly. The question began as a loud thought and Micah spoke it only to rid himself of the question.
“Are you referring to the destruction of the Filan home world, Micah?” SAMI asked after a beep.
“It was more of a rhetorical muttering than a question, SAMI…” Micah replied and warm nervousness flushed his face. Most Hybrids wondered just how much of their conversations, inquiries and musings were recorded and reported (somewhere, to someone) by their SAMI units… Questioning the wisdom of a Royal, especially King Trey, father of Artax the Just… Could be dangerous.
A beat later, a blend of wonder and fresh fear swept Micah.
In his four decades (plus) of life he lived so near the Royals, he’d never feared them. Some nervousness in new s
ituations, sure, but never fear of the people themselves. They needed him, Micah was an important part of the King’s well-being.
“SAMI, can you connect to Wes, please?”
“Of course, Micah.” A short series of soft beeps later, SAMI returned “Micah, I have Wes Ventra for you.” The screen on the far wall remained black, but an audio channel opened and some of the ambient noise from Wes’s apartment came through the speakers all over Micah’s apartment. Long ago, Micah learned the hard way that Wes often slept nude and quite frequently had company in bed with him. After a single instance with his screen on during an early morning communique, Micah instructed SAMI to limit their site-to-site communications to audio only.
“Hey Mike…” Sleep shaded Wes’s voice to a husky subdued whisper. “Are you ok?”
“I’m fine.” Micah stood and paced around for a moment. “Do you have anyone with you?”
A short laugh from Wes was followed by the rustling of sheets. “No, Mike. Not for lack of trying, believe me.” A more serious tone followed Wes’s self-deprecating crack after he realized the intensity of Micah’s manner. “But, no. Just me.”
“Can we meet?” Micah asked without really thinking.
“Sure, I’ll be right there.”
Micah nodded while his nervous walk around his empty apartment continued. Mid-stride, he stopped and held up a hand. “Actually, can we meet somewhere else?”
“Of course.” Wes said, more noise and movement coming from his side. “Did you already call Rooman and Reeman?”
“I…” Micah began. He stuttered for a moment. “No, this won’t take long, I just… Need to ask you something.”
“Sure, Mike, no problem. Just me and you.” Micah heard more rustling that sounded like Wes dressing. “Call the ball.”
“By the statue… Ten minutes?”
“I’m there.”
Micah and Wes at The Statue
0510 Hours
Micah flipped his hood into place as his apartment door slammed shut with a metallic creak and thud. The magnetic lock set into place as Micah walked away. Within moments, he stood in full view of the statue of King Artax. The copper-colored Artax was tall enough to look over the Hybrid stacks and glimpse the Pillar in the distance, rough-hewn, nearly shining.
The cool night air rushed around him, half night breeze mixed with the forced air from the central Hybrid block system. The air from the block air-flow system had a slightly stale scent to it and Micah was thankful for the ambient air that combined with it to limit the smell.
“Wes?” Micah spoke to an otherwise empty landing. The steel beneath him webbed out from the concrete path in five equidistant places. The massive statue of King Artax rose up through the gap in the steel and stretched toward the night sky. The copper-colored giant picked up a good deal of light in the day and reflected that sunshine onto the path in a beige hue. Dull flickers of mirrored light played across Micah’s face as he rounded the steel path. “You here?”
Micah’s voice echoed for a beat or two against the statue and bounced away toward the dark early morning sky. The hood over his face tossed around after Micah’s gaze locked onto a shadow on the opposite side of the circular walkway. “Wes?”
The shadow left the floor.
Micah froze.
I definitely should have called the Twins, Micah’s fear-addled inner voice offered. Eyes wide, Micah surveyed the walkway once more…
A small wheeze of breath left him and Micah moved toward the shadow’s prior location. Wes would kill me if he knew how nervous I was right n—
“Hey!” A voice called, a deep timbre reverbing about the area. A Hybrid who nearly rivalled Aquis in size stepped onto the steel and his footfalls sounded like tinny thunderclaps. Dull gray eyes locked onto Micah and the new arrival pointed in his direction lazily. “You’re the Hood, aren’t you?”
The impossibly large Hybrid walked toward Micah, who retreated in equal steps (though shorter due to the size delta between them).
“I don’t want any trouble, brother.” Micah’s hands came up, palms out.
“Brother?” The Hybrid’s head cocked to the right a bit. “You’re a Hybrid?” A dark chuckle accompanied his growing smile. He stared at the steel beneath him for a moment then lifted his gaze. “I’m Brin.” He approached Micah more quickly, a hand held out. “What’s your name, brother?” The last word took a twist this time, a bit of mocking cruelty to it.
Micah stepped backward a few times. For a moment, the bright light of a hung lamp fell upon his hood and Micah continued his retreat further to escape the shine.
“There’s something I think you should know, brother.” Brin said. This time, the last word of his sentence was almost soaked in that same cool, mocking tone. Brin took two long strides toward Micah and when Micah tried to meet his movement, his back struck a slab concrete wall. The low thud of Micah hitting the wall brought a bigger smile to Brin’s face. “You should know that there’s a bounty on your head…” Brin paused until he was sure the full weight of those words caused new fear to bloom in Micah. The hood still obscured the Mimic’s face along with shadows, so Brin guessed and pressed on. “… in a manner of speaking. You see, everyone’s pretty curious about you, brother.” More derision this time. “You’re in the hip pocket of the King, in Court all the time… You might even live in the Pillar with them…”
“I don’t, I—” Micah stammered for a moment then almost pointed back down the dimly lit concrete path toward his apartment. Fear and a flash of awareness kept Micah’s hands down. Instinct to keep his face secret dropped Micah’s head a bit and the hood fell further and nearly brushed his nose.
“I’m sorry, you what? You don’t what, brother?” Brin leaned much closer to Micah and bent low. His breath fell upon Micah’s hood and it shuddered with the warm wind. “Are you unsure where you live, Hood?” Crippled with fear, Micah could scarcely move as he felt Brin grab his hood. “I can’t continue this conversation calling you ‘Hood’. Let’s find out who’s under this—”
Micah’s eyes squeezed shut and he completely froze for a moment. No breath came or left him. Micah’s heartbeat thumped as he waited for the night air to touch his revealed face. Before the air touched anything, Micah heard a dry crunch and a deep groaned scream.
Micah’s eyes opened to see Brin tipping backward, his previously sure gaze twisted by pain and surprise. Once Brin hit the steel path, Micah saw Wes rise from a crouch behind him. Frustration splashed across Wes’s face for a beat before a smile and wink came toward Micah.
“I can’t take you anywhere, can I?” With another smile, Wes turned his attention to Brin, who was still prone. “What do I do with you, friend?”
Brin grabbed at the knee that Wes shoulder-blocked to drop the massive Hybrid. In too much pain to permit bravado or threats, Brin tried to cough out an apology. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to know… Everyone…”
“Everyone isn’t here—” Wes paused and glanced up at Micah and gave him quick shrug.
“Brin.” Micah filled in the blank.
“Brin.” Wes nodded. “Everyone isn’t here. It’s just you threatening my friend here in the middle of the night.” Eyes locked on Brin, Wes pointed toward Micah. “What can we do about this, Brin? What would you do in my shoes?”
“I…” Brin coughed again and it seemed to clear his mind for a moment. Those steely gray eyes locked onto Wes’s face. “Would kill me.”
“Well,” Wes began as he took hold of Brin’s right foot. “Good thing I’m not you. Instead—” Wes drove his knee into Brin’s shin and more dry crackles came before another scream. A few small bone fragments poked into Brin’s pantleg and tented it just a bit. “We’ll just make sure you can’t sneak up on anyone for a while, yeah?”
Wes threw Brin’s foot down to the steel walkway and the near-giant screamed once more.
“Shall we?” Wes gestured toward the third exit from the statue circle. Micah trotted to Wes’s side and nervously avoided th
e screaming Hybrid on the ground. The pair walked side-by-side down the path in silence for a few moments. Once they could no longer hear Brin’s cries, Wes stopped. “No, Wes, we don’t need the guys, it’ll be fine.” Wes mocked Micah with a small grin. “You just made me break that guy’s leg, Mike.” Wes pointed back down the path toward Brin and Artax’s statue.
“I—” Micah’s head hung. “Rooman and Reeman would have killed him.” Micah whispered, his hood still tipped over his face. “Thank you for… not…”
“Yeah, I was asleep twenty minutes ago. Typically, you know, too early, not a situation that leads to a body count, Mike.” Wes eyed Micah as they walked the steel path. Their echoing footfalls were almost the only sound between sentences. The path snaked through the Hybrid Blocks, from Block A (where Micah lived) in sequence back to Block Y. Each block housed a few thousand Hybrids in homogenous apartment buildings. While the blocks flowed away from the Pillar (Block Y sat nearly ten miles from the home of the crown), each building was oriented to provide residents a view of the shining tower, some clearer than others.
“So, I call in the middle of the night, ask you to meet and you stopped to make yourself a drink before coming out?” Micah asked, a teasing flash in his eye. “Did I almost die for coffee, Wes?”
The pair laughed together so heartily that neither could catch their breath for a moment. Wes leaned on Micah as his laughter faded a bit, an arm over his closest friend’s shoulders.
Micah nearly buckled under the weight of the larger Hybrid for a beat before Wes drew back. “So, Mike…” The pair locked eyes and Wes’s jovial tone left him. “Why am I out here?”
“I need to ask you something, Wes. Something…” Micah paused and stepped away from Wes. He rested his hands on the railing near them and gazed off in the distance at the Pillar. “It’s insane, what I’m going to ask you.”
“Hey, Wes, can you break a guy’s arm for me later today?” Wes mocked lightly as he stepped closer to Micah and the edge of the steel path.
