Awakening on Orbis (10 page)

Read Awakening on Orbis Online

Authors: P. J. Haarsma

“I don’t consider those the finer moments in my life. I’d rather forget them,” I said.

Max smiled, moved toward me, and put her arms around me. “Did you like me back then?”

“Did you like me?” I asked, resting my nose against hers.

When I breathed, Max winced and pinched my lips together with her fingers. “You shouldn’t talk. C’mon, let’s get something to eat. Something that will settle your stomach.”

“What? Does my breath stink? Great!”

“C’mon. I know another place,” she yelled as she ran ahead.

I looked at Murat a little differently after what Max had told me. Instead of seeing trading chambers simply filled with junk, I began to notice exquisite little dolls fashioned from scraps of plastic and thread as well as detailed paintings on discarded scraps of metal or wood, all hung neatly in the chambers and ready for sale. Windows were no longer stacked with discarded electronics but rather parts used by skilled technicians repairing anything their customers could bring them. Despite the obstacles created by the First Families, these new Citizens had carved out an existence for themselves.

Just like you,
I whispered to myself. I sure was going to try.

I saw Max stop under a huge splash of red light outside a tiny chamber. The doorway was so small, I was forced to turn sideways to enter, and once I was inside, the smell of cooking grease violated my senses. To my right, I saw three Bachaks stuffed behind a tall counter lined with mismatched metallic stools. I watched as these brawny-looking aliens with thick forearms jammed pouches of fried foods under tiny light chutes that delivered the food to smaller tables along the wall. Max and I sat at the farthest table from the counter. She was giggling as we sat.

“Golden place, huh?” she said.

“Small,” I remarked.

“This is only part of it.” Then Max knocked on the wall behind her bench. A few moments later, part of the wall slid back.

“Max!” cried the alien who opened the door. I stepped back. It was a Belaran. Her inky black skin and sharp features immediately brought back memories of Madame Lee, who had tried to kill me on Orbis 1.

“Hi, Tic. I brought my friend, the one I told you about. I hope you don’t mind,” Max said.

Tic looked me over and smiled. “Of course not. Come in!” Max squeezed past, and I followed. “Who would refuse the Tonat?” Tic whispered as I passed. I spun around to look at her, but the alien’s back was to me while she locked the little door.

I turned back and followed Max down the narrow hallway and into a much larger, circular room. We stepped over cushions scattered on the floor, and I ducked under one of two metal pots that hung from the center of the ceiling. The pots leaked blue smoke that wove its way through the silks also hanging from the ceiling. Max plopped onto one of the cushions, and I did the same as Tic gathered some drinking glasses. The Belaran appeared much older than Madame Lee and walked with a slight stoop. To me, Tic seemed like a bland version of the warrior I once knew, but I was still nervous. Belarans had a fierce reputation.

“JT wasn’t feeling well, and I didn’t want to go home,” Max said.

“You are always welcome here,” Tic exclaimed. “I have just the thing that will help your friend as well.”

When Tic left the room, I whispered to Max, “What’s a Belaran doing here?”

“We are not all as fortunate as some of our race,” Tic answered for herself, returning to the room with three glasses.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to be rude. I was just surprised to see someone from Zinovia in Murat.”

“Zinovia is an amazing planet, but far too ruthless for my tastes. I like the simplicity of Murat. Don’t you?” she said as she passed me a glass and then another to Max. I noticed that mine was filled with a black liquid while Max’s was yellow. “Drink it. It will help your stomach.”

“How did you know it was my stomach?” I asked.

Tic did not reply. Instead, she took a sip from her own glass and glanced at Max. “I trust you’re feeling fine,” she said.

“Yes, but I do need to use your bathroom.”

“Of course. You know where it is.”

After Max left the room, I sat in awkward silence while Tic just stared at me. I tried to drink the liquid, but the smell only twisted my stomach more.

“Trust me: it will help you. I have more if you need it.”

“Thanks, but this will pass.”

“Will it?” she asked.

I glanced up at Tic. What did she know?

“The Belaran believed that they possessed the Scion at one point, as well you know,” she whispered. “In fact, I believe you met her once.”

“Who?”

“Madame Lee believed that she was the Scion, or at least she wanted to be. Such a taste for power, that one.”

“Really?”

“She was livid after the Keepers had proven her unworthy. She even had a Tonat.”

“Where is he?”

“Why do you assume it was a male?”

“I’m sorry. Where is
she
?”

“Dead. The genetic alterations killed her, as often happens when individuals try to force what should be a natural process.”

“You know about that?”

“It’s written all over you.”

“Don’t tell Max. Please!”

“Don’t tell her what? That the boy she loves has been genetically altered by the Trust to protect his sibling? That her partner will forever feel the tug of the Scion even to the point of physical ailment?”

“Max loves me?”

“You miss the point. As the Tonat, your cell structure has been coded to respond to the needs of the Scion. Even if you do not want to be the Tonat, you cannot escape its effects.”

“I know. The Keepers told me already. Theylor explained to me that even if I choose
not
to be the Tonat, my genetic structure will fight me every step of the way.” I stood up. “I can’t believe they did this to me.”

“Understand that the Trust, those five patriarchic Space Jumpers, are wired to do one thing: create the Space Jumper that protects the Scion. That’s all they care about. The Trust knows what they are doing. They’ve been getting ready for this just as long as the Nagools. Maybe longer. The Scion needs a Tonat.”

“But this is supposed to be
my
life. How can I have my own life and choose what I want to do when a bunch of aliens have already rewired me to protect another?”

“Do you think it’s fair not to tell Max? Do you think that’s fair to either of you?”

“Nothing seems fair on the Rings of Orbis.”

“Then you should feel welcome here.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Max asked as she returned.

I looked at Tic. I wasn’t ready to tell Max.
Please don’t,
I thought.

“JT was telling me how my little concoction was making him feel much better.”

“Golden!” Max exclaimed. “I knew it was a good idea to come here.”

“You must take some home with you,” Tic insisted. “In case you feel a relapse.”

“Thanks,” I replied.

We sat and talked with Tic for some time. She was so much different from Madame Lee, although I sometimes caught glimpses of a ferocious warrior hidden in her chiseled bone structure and jet-black skin. Tic told us she had lived on Orbis since before the Citizens’ uprising on Orbis 3. That’s when she moved to Murat and began living like a knudnik. I was interested, but my thoughts began to drift away from the conversation. I was thinking about what to do with Max. Would she find out on her own? She wouldn’t let me live like this, even if I explained to her that it wasn’t that bad. Theylor told me that the symptoms would get worse the farther I traveled from Ketheria, but I figured I could live with throwing up every once in a while. Besides, I could always get more of Tic’s magic drink.

The truth was, all
I
wanted was to be with Max. The fact that my genetic structure had been altered to help protect Ketheria was not going to get in the way. Whoever did this to me had no right to do so. I would protect my sister, but I would have my own life as well. I had always protected her in the past, and I didn’t see why I couldn’t continue to do so. Ketheria had enough Space Jumpers around her, anyway. One more wasn’t going to help. I would keep this a secret from Max and have my own life. At least that was my plan.

By the time Hach had returned from his business dealings, my plan seemed to be working. I had programmed the chow synth to create more of Tic’s drink, and I drank it in private at the start of every cycle. I also tested Theylor’s distance theory and began going out with the other kids to distribute taps around Murat. The only new symptom was a sharp headache stabbing at my temples as I ventured farther from home. It was still plenty of distance to lead my own life, despite what the Keepers had warned.

The guilt, however, was something I couldn’t escape. Ketheria must have known that I had no intention of becoming the Tonat. She
was
a telepath. But if she was disappointed in me, she never let it show. In fact, it seemed to me that Ketheria did her best to accept my decision; she was always assuring me that she was well protected. I made her promise to inform me if anything seemed out of the ordinary or dangerous. The thing was, Ketheria seemed so loved by everyone around her that I didn’t understand why there was so much worry about her safety, anyway. Still, to demonstrate my ability to protect her, I made alliances with the knudniks who served her, cleaned her room, and worked in the building. I asked them to report anything suspicious. They eagerly agreed to help, but only reported that Ketheria spent every cycle with the Nagools. When I questioned her, she said that she was learning about the Universe and preparing for the Cycle of Witnessing. She never left the building, and the Space Jumpers always guarded her door. It seemed like a boring existence to me, but Ketheria looked happy and she was safe. That’s all that mattered.

“There are some in the universe who are appalled by your sister’s very existence,” Hach told me when I asked about her security a few cycles later. He was dining in his room and had asked me to join him. “Her existence is an affront to their own beliefs, and they refuse to see the truth.”

“So you believe in it too?” I asked.

“There’s nothing to believe. OIO does not ask you to have faith in anything or follow anyone; it simply is. They say OIO is a seamless part of your own existence.”

“I still don’t get it.”

“You don’t have to. Listen to me. It is believed that the Ancients
made
the first softwires.”

“Made?”

Hach stuffed a piece of meat in his mouth and shook his head. “I don’t know folklore. Don’t drill me on it, but it’s common knowledge that the Ancients gave them the technology for their belts, and we know the Ancients picked the first Trust — that council of Jumpers who now govern and train all Space Jumpers. You see, the Ancients knew that there would be many individuals in this universe, even believers, who would see any Scion as a threat. They have been right in the past. I’m afraid you can’t fight this.”

“I’ve heard that,” I mumbled. “So you’re not upset with all these Space Jumpers hanging around here?”

“I’m not, but I do worry for the Keepers. They are running a huge risking by parading them in the open like this. I can’t help but feel they are taunting the Trading Council. The Keepers cannot afford a war. We’ve made certain of that.”

“Then why do you allow the Space Jumpers to remain here?”

“I suppose some things are worth the risk. At least the Keepers feel that way,” he said, stabbing another piece of meat with his fork and winking at me. It was nice to have Hach back.

A knudnik entered the room. “Your guests have arrived,” he announced.

Hach swallowed and said, “Good. Have them wait. I’m not finished with the Tonat just yet.”

The thin alien nodded before leaving. Hach put down his fork and knife and said, “I know you’re not happy with this arrangement, but as I’m sure you are well aware, you are in no position to deny me.”

“I’ve been in Murat. I’ve passed out the taps. I’ve done everything that has been asked of me.”

Hach nodded. “The Scion’s first public appearance is a few cycles away. The Cycle of Witnessing. I certainly can’t have a bunch of Space Jumpers lining the stage, now, can I? Your presence will be required.”

“Why? These people worship her. No one is going to hurt her,” I complained.

Hach leaned on his elbows. “On the planet of Sorlinda, maybe ninety million light-years from here, a very advanced society discovered that a Scion was among their ranks. They rejoiced. They celebrated. As far as they were concerned,
they
were the chosen ones, but as they waited for the Scion to fully awaken, others on the planet decided that they, too, were worthy of this title. If the Universe had chosen one Sorlindian, why shouldn’t it choose them all?”

Hach grabbed another hunk of meat from the tray in front of him and plopped it onto his plate. He sliced it as he spoke. “Come the Cycle of Witnessing, a powerful arm of its government seized the Scion and ceremonially sliced her up, serving her flesh for consumption to anyone in attendance at the Witnessing. They passed around pieces of her on plates, just as you might do at a banquet.” Hach shoved a piece of meat into his mouth for emphasis. My stomach rolled over once, but it had nothing to do with my illness.

“Where was the Tonat?” I asked.

“They had tricked the Tonat and drugged him. He was unconscious during the entire event. When he awoke, he was so enraged that he slaughtered every single person who had attended the Witnessing, and there were many. He piled the dead bodies in a pyramid on the exact spot where the Scion had died. Then he stole their precious metals and entombed the bodies in a silver shrine so no one would ever forget what they had done to the Scion. It was quite ghastly. In fact, the Tonat is now considered a monster in Sorlindian folklore.”

“The Keepers never spoke of this,” I said.

“I can see why. Even your own people have destroyed their share of Scions. One fable talks of a Scion who was nailed to a piece of wood while he was still alive; those who worshipped him stood around and watched him suffer. He died eventually, of course.” Hach sipped from a goblet. “Shall I go on?”

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