Maia and the Xifarian Conspiracy (The Lightbound Saga Book 1) (11 page)

19: Beginnings

The crowd was humming at a feverish pitch, nervous and excited after the warden’s introductions, when a woman ascended the podium. Everything about her reminded Maia of flowing water—the serenity exuding from her persona, the effortless gait, and the silvery gown, an intricate construction of thin, long pleats flowing from the beaded clasp at the base of her throat and transforming into a cascade of frothy ruffles around her feet. The elegance of her dress was mirrored in the sophistication of her elaborate hairstyle—dark red hair woven into neat braids and swept into an impressive knotted bun.

“I hope you are having a pleasant time,” her soft voice spread in graceful ripples across the room. “I am Lady Dae, here to share with you stories of our past. I can assure you that my sessions will be very informal, not the usual rigorous XDA drill.” She smiled sweetly as the assembly let out sighs of relief. “However, remember what we learn here will be critical for many of the exercises you undertake. So please pay attention.”

Lady Dae, certainly a gifted storyteller, started with the tale of the twin planets of Xif and Ara, and Maia was soon engrossed by her sweet, melodious voice and its song of the distant past.

“The planets where we began as a people were a part of a sprawling system with two stars, the Alei and Groh, at the south-central edge of the R’armimon Empire. Xif and Ara were called the twins because of their proximity to each other and their comparable size, but that was where the similarity ended. While Ara was a resplendent planet teeming with life, abundant in its natural resources, its neighbor, Xif, was a volcanic wilderness, its atmosphere too thin to support life. Xif was pronounced uninhabitable and ignored for centuries until an obscure truth came to light. Its soil contained Calbion, a highly desirable rare metal of legendary strength, an invaluable resource in the construction of spaceships. The discovery of the Calbion deposits created a mad rush to stake claim on the hitherto neglected planet.

“After the initial dash to quarry the deposits in the unforgiving surroundings, mining companies found it increasingly hard to recruit workers for their operations. Responding to their petitions, the government of Ara passed legislation to send all its deadwastes to the mining colonies on Xif.”

“Deadwaste? What’s that?” Someone asked from behind Maia.

“That’s what they called people who were set to be terminated. They were the ones sentenced to death or life exile by the penal code. These were the social outcasts, including political detainees, refugees as well as hardened criminals.

“The mining corporations made huge profits selling Calbion, but they hardly invested in improving the living conditions on Xif, and diseases due to malnutrition were rampant. The government of Ara, while aware of the exploitation, did not care to get involved. The revenue from the mining corporations was too high to tinker with, while the labor was expendable and cheap. The first wave of forced labor sent to Xif perished within a short time; the hazards of the environment and the hard work in the mines took its toll within a few months.”

Lady Dae paused and gazed over her subjects. A bushy-haired boy in the front row hesitantly raised his hand.

“Yes?” Lady Dae asked with a smile.

“I’m Kenan.” The boy flashed a shy grin. “Why didn’t the mining companies send mechanized drones instead of people?”

“That is because of the way Calbion is found in the soil—in thin, flaky layers that need to be extracted with the precision and care of a jeweler. Drones were still a possibility, but it would have required very expensive drones,” Lady Dae explained. “And labor was cheap, and the loss of life was . . . acceptable to raise the bottom lines of the mining corporations.”

“That’s dreadful,” someone exclaimed, and Maia had to agree.

“It was indeed an unfortunate state of affairs,” Lady Dae continued. “Things changed a bit with the arrival of the Ruler of the Geliien Highlands, His Highness Arka. Arka, the nephew of the monarch of Ara, His Majesty King Arihan, had been deported with his family to Xif, following a rumored assassination attempt on the king. His arrival on Xif tied the impoverished miners into a unified group of rebels who secretly plotted to overthrow the mining companies and establish sovereignty under their newfound king.

“With or without their king or the rebellion, the second group of laborers would have perished if it were not for the geologist Veiles. Stumbling in and out of the darkened caverns and tunnels while studying the geology of his new habitat, Veiles made a miraculous discovery that forever changed the course of our history. He unearthed the Xiomera, or the Cavern of Illumination, and the celestial glow of the L’miere crystals.”

“L’miere crystals?” a curly-haired girl sitting in the first row almost shrieked.

“Yes.” Lady Dae suppressed a smile. “That is the same type of crystal that now shines above us. When Veiles walked into the Cavern of Illumination, he was surprised to find that the usually lifeless underground was a veritable paradise, thriving with lush foliage and small fauna. He soon deduced that the crystals were the key—not just providing light, but creating the life force itself. He took the word of this miracle to the elders, who in turn informed His Highness. Arka emerged as a fervent advocate for researching the new discovery. In a swift strategic move, Arka pulled together a cabinet of ministers and appointed Veiles as the chair of the Scientific Defense Services, which later became the most powerful position in the government, second only to the crowned monarch.”

“When did the monarchy go away?” Maia leaned over to ask Ren.

“Much later, not until our First Passage,” Ren whispered back.

“Months passed,” Lady Dae continued. “The cave became a refuge to the growing band of miners who worked relentlessly during the nights, building shelters, harvesting coarse food grains, stockpiling arms and ammunition, and reinforcing the walls of the cavern with smuggled Calbion. It was only a matter of time until the rebellion took the offensive, and within a few short days of vicious war, they incapacitated the mining companies, claimed all their machinery, and declared sovereignty of Xif.”

“Didn’t the mining companies or Ara strike back?” asked a lanky boy.

“No,” Lady Dae replied. “They thought that the success of the rebellion was just a stroke of luck and the miners would perish if left on their own. But they had no knowledge of the miracle that grew underneath the wasted soil of the dusty planet. Cutting off the food supply killed no one; it only gave the new nation time to strategize and invent new tools to solidify their independence.

“Soon, after a series of futile assaults, the rulers of Ara realized that the hope of subjugating their twin planet was nothing but a delusion. So, they decided to ally with their neighbors instead, who were poised to become the new economic powerhouse of the galaxy. Thus, the nation of Xif was born and it flourished, prospering wildly from trading its enormous Calbion deposits. As the mines extended deeper into the core of the planet, so did the settlements. Gradually, the scientists devised ways to reinforce the interior of the planet with Calbion, and Xif as we know it now slowly grew. The Sedara, a cluster of L’miere crystals tied in a fine mesh of Calbion, was eventually hung overhead, directly above the capital of Armezai.”

The lady paused and looked around, as if expecting questions.

“Is it true that the sunlight from the surface is fed into the Sedara?” someone piped up after a long and spellbound hush.

Lady Dae nodded. “The Sedara channels the energy of the star of the system we are in, mimicking its pattern of day and nightfall based on our orbital position. This ensures that wherever we are, the days and nights are calibrated to the external star. We also regulate temperature patterns to simulate what you call ‘seasons’ on your planet. That brings a sense of normalcy to our unusual habitat.”

“This entire inside of the planet, I mean . . . all this space was . . . carved out by hand?” Kenan asked.

“Oh no, it was mostly carved by the Tierremorphes. They are mystical beings who are born with the power to shape land at their will; it is a power unique to this planet. Unfortunately, they are almost relics now, as their population has dwindled to only a handful.” Lady Dae stopped, her face sullen.

“Lady Dae?” Maia said. She wanted to bring up a few questions that had persistently nagged her for years. “What makes this planet fly across galaxies? And how is Xif able to attach to our system like—”

“The answers to those questions are much too complicated to be explained here, I am afraid,” the lady cut her off, her abruptness startling Maia a little.

“That will be all for today.” Lady Dae looked around before rising to her feet gracefully. “When we meet again, we will start studying the political structure of Ara, which forms the basis for our own. Meanwhile, I suggest that you all do a little bit of research on the subject.”

“I have a question,” a voice called out from the other end of the room. It was a girl with long, black hair framing her pale face. Maia noticed that she sat next to Nafi’s cousin, Loriine.

“Yes,” Lady Dae said.

“What about the R’armimon? Are we going to talk about them soon?”

The woman froze as if something forbidden had been mentioned. After a long, expectant pause, she finally shook her head. “No, we shall not,” she said, then glided out of the room.

The session had been informative and enlightening. Maia emerged from the room immersed in deep thought. She could not stop from wondering how a nation that started as a rebel colony had gradually turned into the very monster it had fought against.

“What was that all about?” Nafi asked as they shuffled forward to their next session. “About the R’armimon, I mean.”

“Yes, the lady didn’t seem to like that question at all,” Dani added.

“The system of the Alei and Groh was part of the R’armimon Empire, like the lady mentioned,” Ren said, scratching his head meditatively. “Oh, and our last queen, Ataii, was an R’armimon princess. But that’s all I have ever heard.”

The engrossing first session was balanced perfectly by an absolutely boring and painfully slow introduction to Stellar Geography. Their instructor was Master Buzzot, a shriveled old man who spoke in a tiny and distorted voice. It was extremely hard to follow anything he said; the saving grace was that he did not have anything interesting to say at all. A mountainous pile of books lay on his desk, and he simply read out paragraphs of definitions from one book before switching to another for the next cycle of definitions.

Midway into the agony, Ren was sound asleep. Maia and Kusha were close to dozing off as well. Nafi was struggling to stay awake, although she did her best to pretend that she was enjoying every bit of the lesson. Only Dani stayed alert as ever, brows furrowed as she tried to follow the explanation of various spectrums, zeniths, tilts, and orbits. Next to her, Ren snored blissfully, and even Dani’s insistent pokes and nudges failed to wake him.

“You shouldn’t doze off like that,” Dani told Ren while they sat down for dinner that evening. “You’re here to learn—make use of the time you have been given.”

“Neither should you doodle and draw; that was not an illustration practice,” Nafi voiced her support for Dani, waving a chiding finger at Ren.

Ren simply concentrated on his food as the two girls stared at him in hopeless disappointment.

As they walked toward their room that evening, Nafi and Dani discussed study plans for the evening. Ren scooted up to Maia, barely able to suppress his chuckles.

“Hear that? ‘Miss Win’ and ‘Miss Learn’ will drive us crazy. Kusha won’t dare disobey them, which leaves the two of us. Maybe you and I should just run away together, huh?”

A smile flooded Maia’s face at his words. It was true; barely a day into a regimen, and she had indeed yearned to run away. An early escape from Xif was beginning to look like an impossible dream, and she wondered if the only diversion from this drudgery would come in the form of this willful Xifarian boy.
But then . . .
Maia’s heart almost screeched to a halt.
He is a Xifarian.
She had to remember what had happened to Sophie. Maybe she too made Xifarian friends, met someone like Ren, and followed him into a world of darkness. Maia quickened her pace, deliberately striding a few steps ahead of Ren. She could not repeat the mistakes of her mother; she had to be cautious.

20: Fallout

After the rather overwhelming first day, Maia reluctantly dragged herself around the next morning. A pleasant young man with unruly, brown hair was their instructor for Cartography. Master Dibisch, or Master D as he liked to be called, was a good teacher, quite capable of involving his students in an interactive learning drill. Each group was assigned a cartographic table, inlaid with huge screens that could be manipulated by touch. The session started with the study of symbology in topographical maps of Xif.

“My sessions will tie back to the Stellar Geography lessons you started yesterday,” Master D announced. “As you learn about the various planets with Master Buzzot, you will be expected to complete the cartographical study with me in parallel. The idea is to give you a cohesive and complete knowledge of the known universe.”

“Ughhh . . . now I have to stay awake in Old Sleepy’s sessions,” Ren grumbled.

“Told you to pay attention,” Nafi said, her voice soaring in triumph.

After a long half day of poring over the vast quadrants of Xif and studying the volcanic landscape, it was time for lunch. Kinetics session was next, and since that was going to be the basis for the challenges, the excitement was palpable.

“We will build machines, space crafts, robots . . . all out of tiny parts, and you will love it,” Ren said dreamily as he led the group to the classroom.

The spring to their steps died as soon as they reached the assigned studio. Gracing the lectern, with his glorious frown, was the man who had spoken to them from the screen a day before—the Resident Master Kehorkjin.

“Core 21,” he said as Maia and her group took slow, tentative steps up to him. “Congratulations, you have the last row up there in the corner,” he said, pointing to the upper right end of the triangular room with stadium seats.

“While we discuss important things down here, you will be able to hide and talk and giggle,” he said with a generous dollop of sarcasm. “Or try. For if you are caught, may the stars help you.”

Someone tittered behind them, quite loudly. Maia turned to find the source of the laughter; her eyes were drawn to the front row on the right. Maia immediately spotted Loriine sitting there smirking, obviously enjoying the master’s mockery. To her right was the girl who had asked the question about the R’armimon, her pale face standing out against the long, black hair, her dark eyes expressionless. A boy who was laughing sat on the other side of Loriine; his curly, reddish-brown hair spilled onto his forehead, and his gray-blue eyes sparkled with humor. A scruffy-looking girl with a ponytail and a pasty-faced boy with freckles filled the remainder of their row. All of them wore the dark blue colors for students of the XDA.

“Karhann,” the master addressed the boy who had laughed. “I would appreciate it if you kept your joy a little more private.”

Maia felt a giggle surge up her throat as Karhann flushed and grew solemn, but she pushed it back down. This session was no place for fun, particularly since they had been assigned the last row, which ensured a certain hawk-eyed teacher would pay special attention to them. Maia was sure that Master Kehorkjin would not hesitate to throw her out of the competition if she gave him a good enough reason. An idea came to her at that moment.
Could that be the way out of Xif? What if I broke one of the eight golden rules?

“These seats are awesome,” Ren’s bright voice disrupted Maia’s thoughts. They had filed up to their perch, and Maia had to agree that the view was engrossing. The entire arena lay open before them; it was hard to not take note of the little dramas that kept spurting continuously in various pockets.

Maia was just about to take a closer look at the tiny machine parts that filled a trough stretching along the length of their bench when the cacophony erupted. The noise came from the other side of the classroom—someone shrieked and someone else howled. People rushed and pushed and fell. Maia saw Jiri jump over a desk and sprint across the dais to the other side. Midway through, the boy remembered the master and noticed his frown. It was too late to stop, but Jiri still tried. And he did stop, but only after he bumped into the lectern, knocked it over, and fell in a jumbled heap on the floor.

“Yikes, that’s going to be messy,” Ren commented loudly, and Maia diverted her attention away from Jiri’s continuing misfortunes to look in the direction Ren was pointing. Something bizarre was happening across the three middle rows on the left side of the classroom. It took Maia a few moments to realize what it was. The ground was swaying in a strange, dizzying motion, in a series of swift waves that kept on coming. Everyone had shrunk away, everyone but one boy who sat at the center with his mouth agape, his bulging eyes as big as saucers, his chubby cheeks flushed with color.

“A maladjusted Tierremorphe, no better than the others we’ve had for years now,” Ren said, shaking his head. “See, he has some sort of influence over the elements, but no real control. He must have tried to test his powers and now he’s stuck in a loop.”

“Will they be able to fix this?” Dani asked.

“Sure, happens all the time. Anyone with the slightest terraforming ability will try their luck, no matter how many times they are warned not to. Just like this guy, everyone wishes to be the one to break the curse,” Ren replied. “Look, the healers are here to take him away.”

A group of stern-faced people dressed in white marched into the classroom. They nodded at the master and unfurled a thick, padded blanket that Ren called a Morphereistor. The hapless boy had started sobbing piteously on seeing the healers approach, and Maia held her breath, expecting a fierce struggle. But the healers were fast; in the blink of an eye, the Morphereistor was flung around the boy and its ends secured. As soon as the blanket-like contraption covered him from shoulder to knees like a cocoon, the disturbance ceased. Soon the healers walked him away and the Kinetics Master busily directed the shaken crowd back to their places.

“He should be disqualified,” Nafi said. She had perfected a look of revulsion on her face. “He sure deserves it. This is totally irresponsible behavior.”

Maia decided to investigate the trough once more. A variety of mechanical parts and tools filled it—wheels, wings, propellers, motors, drivers, wrenches, and more. She pulled out a few pieces and was busy inspecting the miniature components when the master rapped loudly on his desk.

“All right, everyone. Now that we have managed to settle down for the day, we shall begin with the tiresome but necessary task of learning.

“Today, in this basics session, we shall study the principles of kinetics supported by hands-on work with miniature models. Following this will be the design sessions where you will apply the concepts learned here to create bigger objects. That will eventually lead us to the first elimination challenge. We shall now start with a propulsion craft.”

The master went on to describe the theories of propulsion, simple engine structures, and weight distribution rules. Soon it was time to dig into the parts’ trough and assemble their first crafts. Maia realized that even with the somewhat harsh instructor, this session could be enjoyable; assembling and creating miniature, motorized vehicles was quite exciting.

“Ren,” Nafi whispered in an agitated tone, “how do these engines work? Where do they get their power from?”

“They have the tiniest bit of L’miere crystals in them,” Dani replied even before Ren could open his mouth. “The crystals are sources of perpetual energy. All vehicles in Xif are powered by these crystals, but their sizes are considerably larger than the ones in our models, of course.”

“Of course.” Nafi smiled.

Ren leaned toward Maia and rolled his eyes. “She probably spent all night researching that.”

Kusha was the first of the five to design a four-wheeled vehicle, which teetered unsteadily along the worktable. Just as Master Kehorkjin came by, inspecting the progress on their bench, Kusha’s wobbly craft decided to collapse on all fours.

“Too much weight on those puny spokes. Try some redistribution. If you cannot carry a load all by yourself, you have to learn to either let it go or share it with someone,” he commented as Kusha glowered at the incapacitated pieces of metal.

Dani had also completed her vehicle—a small three-wheeled craft that glided along perfectly with the grace and elegance of a swan. The master smiled and nodded in appreciation at a beaming Dani before walking back to his podium. Maia had almost worked out a solution to prevent her vehicle from toppling over when Nafi hissed.

“Ren, what are you doing?”

A small round craft with two tiny wheels and crowned with a pair of oversized rotating blades hovered in the air, basking in Ren’s affectionate gaze.

“Bring it down,” Nafi snapped. “You will get us disqualified.”

“Be quiet, Nafi, or
your
screaming might get us disqualified,” Ren teased.

The craft rose higher in the air.

“Get it back, Ren.” Kusha’s tone was grave.

Ren sighed loudly, shook his head, and stretched his arm halfheartedly to catch the little bug, which kept soaring. Just as he reached out, the craft slid through his fingers and dove forward across the rows. As a disaster involving the peculiar flying machine seemed unavoidable, Maia sat frozen and simply stared.

The contraption sunk lower in front of the third row, and a boy looked up at it. He turned around on hearing Ren whisper urgently for help, and Maia gasped as she recognized the handsome face
. . . it was Lex, the irate boy from their Arpasgula episode.
Recognition dawned on Lex’s face as well, his lips twisting into a nasty smile. He turned around and smacked the hovering craft, sending it flopping and flying toward the podium.

It careened through bobbing heads and moving bodies, crashing with a tinkle on the first row, startling Karhann, the red-haired boy who had laughed. Then, in a final surge of strength, it wobbled up in the air, spun around unsteadily, and slumped upside down at Master Kehorkjin’s feet. A lengthy bout of oppressive silence followed as the tiny craft took its last breath.

“Impressive,” the master’s voice bristled with anger. “But such bravado has no place in my classroom. Karhann, you will please rise and leave.”

The master thought that it was Karhann’s.

“But Master Kehorkjin—” Karhann protested.

“As I said, you will leave the room.”

“But, it’s not mine.”

“For the lack of better evidence, I will trust what I have seen,” the master said menacingly as he picked up the offending piece of metal, “unless, of course, someone else claims responsibility for this.”

Ren’s shoulders slumped and his head drooped; Maia and the rest of the team were too confused by the sudden turn of events to say anything.

Master Kehorkjin’s voice boomed. “Since you seem so reluctant to leave, young man, let us see what else we can add to your punishment. How would you like it if your whole team joined you outside?”

“No, sir. I will leave.” Karhann got hastily to his feet.

“Too late now,” the master said in mock lament. “This kind of sloppiness is intolerable, particularly from a student of this academy. You shall all leave. Right now.”

After the occupants of the first row trudged out, everyone worked at a furious pace in absolute silence. The Core 21 was no exception; they hung their heads and desperately avoided looking at each other. Thankfully, a mid-session break was announced, and they slinked out of the room, shoulders sagging with guilt. Maia was surprised by the overwhelming regret that made her head feel leaden. She was not supposed to care—that was what she had told herself repeatedly over the past few days. And this could have been the opportunity she was hoping for, to be disqualified and sent back to Tansi.
But . . . how could I have let an innocent boy be blamed?
Nafi was right, whether she liked it or not, she was the team leader after all. She was responsible.

“Told you,” Nafi grumbled, shaking her head at Ren. “But you wouldn’t listen. Now what a mess you’ve made.”

“Guys,” Ren spoke in a small voice as they approached the door. “I’ll go to Master Kehorkjin and own up.”

“Let’s go outside and talk to Karhann before we approach the master,” Dani suggested.

They did not get a chance to talk to anyone. A smirking Lex stood at the door, the same four boys that were in Arpasgula were flanked his sides.

“There you are, thought you’d never leave the room. Don’t have the guts to own up, do you?” Lex spat out the next word, “Cowards.”

“We’re just—” Ren started.

“Hey, Karhann,” Lex waved at Karhann and his team who were talking to other groups, doubtlessly trying to piece together what had happened. “I know who did it.”

“You don’t have to tell,” Nafi shouted, as Karhann walked over to join the small gathering. “We were going to talk to him about it anyway.”

“Talk about it when?” Karhann spoke calmly, but his eyes flashed with anger. “After we had been sent off from the academy? Maybe it doesn’t matter to a bunch of visitors like you, but our lives are tied to this place. Perhaps you should try to keep that in mind.”

“It was an accident,” Maia tried to explain.

“It was actually him.” Nafi glared at Lex who stood gloating. “He sent it flying in your direction.”