The Faarian Chronicles: Exile (11 page)

“Hey, Thal?” I yelled, but he was already gone. I slapped
the doorjamb and returned to my austere new room, putting my ear buds back in.
First thing tomorrow, I had to ask him how to email home.

Chapter 13: A Second Tour

“Get a good night’s sleep,” I mocked my reflection the next
morning as I rubbed my puffy, raccoon eyes with makeup remover in the mirror.
Yeah, right. My subconscious had had me tossing and turning from a series of
increasingly strange dreams about people I’d never seen before in my life.
People who wanted to meet me, reporters who wanted to interview me, and
scientists who wanted to run experiments on my Earthan DNA. The past couple of
days were catching up to me.

My mother had opened my door as I was falling asleep again
between dreams. I laid there, watched her through half-closed eyes in the light
from the doorway, and waited for her to say something. Anything. She sighed and
rubbed her forehead before closing the door again. Like she couldn’t figure out
what to say to me. Like I was giving her a headache.

I mean sure, the light was off, but couldn’t she have come
in, taken a seat and talked for a few minutes? Said goodnight and kissed me on
the forehead? Or attempted to anyway? I’m not sure I would’ve let her. But I’d
waited fifteen years for this woman to tuck me in (okay, well maybe only the
first ten) and now here we were and… nothing.

She couldn’t even say, “Sorry for taking you away from
gymnastics, from everything and everyone you know, but I’m really glad you’re
here.” Or, “Now we finally get the chance to get to know each other.” Or even
just, “I’ve missed you all these years.”

I wanted to shout at her, “WHY DID YOU BRING ME HERE?” But
if she didn’t have anything to say, well then, neither did I.

My mother was already up and gone by the time I woke to the
tingle of the red sun streaming through the window, giving everything a weird
pink glow. There was no sleeping through that.

I got up and took a quick shower (though not lightning-fast
like Thal), slathered on sunscreen, dressed, defiantly reapplied my black
eyeliner and mascara, and went down to breakfast.

Sensei said goodbye first thing, having to get going to her
new teaching job at some warrior boarding school called The Point. I walked her
out to the Tony the Tiger jet where she showed me how to call her on my link if
I needed to talk.

“So, have you decided on a goal to work on while you’re
here?” she asked.

“Goal? Um, get through my time here and go home?”

She raised an eyebrow. “That needs work. What’s our mantra?”

“Anything worth doing is worth doing well,” I repeated for
the millionth time, rolling my eyes.

“Right. And don’t roll your eyes at the General or her
warriors. They won’t be as tolerant as I am,” she said. I snorted. Sensei,
tolerant. Riiiight. “You’ll need to prove yourself here, Sunny, but if you do
your best, I know you’ll be fine.” She patted me on the shoulder and climbed
the stairs to the door of the jet.

“And choose a goal!” she yelled from the doorway, and then
she was gone. The engines roared, dust blew, and I was alone. Separated from my
last connection to my life on Earth.

Half an hour later in the great hall, I returned my plate
and utensils to the kitchen with one last grimace of disgust at the crusty mush
in my bowl. Disappointingly, that seemed to be the only menu choice this
morning, some cross between refried beans and grits I think, and some sweet,
turquoise melon. After getting over the color, I liked the melon, but a few
bites had been enough of the mush.

“Thalestris,” my mother said with her lips pressed into a
thin line across from me. What was
her
problem this morning? “Why don’t
you finish showing Veridian around the compound? Then I think she’ll be ready
to go out on patrol.” So, she still wasn’t going to show me around herself.
Humph. Why should I put my life on hold only to be treated like so much disappointing,
unwanted baggage? I deserved better than this, to have some say in my own life!

Choose a goal, choose a goal,
Sensei’s words rang in my head. She was right, but the only goal I’d ever had
was to be an Olympic gymnast, and that shining gold medal was still everything
I wanted, everything I’d ever worked for. How could I work towards that, stuck
here for a year, with no equipment? I had to get Dad to bring me home. It was
that simple. I’d only just arrived, but this was not what I’d signed up for.
And until then, I couldn’t let
her
derail me from my training. I had to
find ways to get better, faster, stronger, here - in exile-land.

So I had to contact Dad today, and maybe scout some workout
locations now with Thal.

“Sure Aunt Vaeda. I’m done anyway,” Thal (
never
call
me Thalestris) replied with an obliging smile and stood up. “Are you ready?” I
tried to pull my eyebrows down out of my hairline at the “Aunt,” nodded, and
got up from the bench too. Probably best to wait to ask Thal how to contact Earth
until we were out of my mother’s earshot anyway.

 “Didn’t you know we’re cousins?” he asked, noting my
surprise. I shook my head. Did I know anything here? “Well actually, you’re
pretty much related to everyone here. We all are, I mean. Except the people
who’ve married in. My mom and yours are sisters.”

He pointed out a group of women across the hall and called
out, “Mom!” waving at one of them. A woman who looked very much like my mother,
but softer and nicer, waved and smiled.

“Her name’s Penthe,” he continued, pronouncing it Pen-tay I
gave a small smile and waved back. It was strange to suddenly have an aunt.
Lots of aunts maybe, I thought, looking around.

The twins were nearby, busily stuffing their faces, but they
looked up from their plates long enough to point at me and laugh. My dear
cousins
.

I turned back to find Thal looking me up and down with a
puzzled look on his face. "Okay, I have to ask. What
are
you
wearing, anyway?” He shook his head. I looked down at my outfit: shorts, Nikes,
and my biker chick t-shirt (literally, a big, fuzzy yellow chick in bike
spandex, a head band, and holding a ten-speed). “You realize we’re going on
patrol later, right?”

“Oh. You mean I have to actually wear that?” I asked,
pointing at his outfit and wrinkling my nose. He wore the same kind of clothes
I had purposely left back in my new room: a stretchy, long-sleeved khaki
t-shirt and fitted cargo pants tucked into tall, blue, and ugly Doc Martinesque
boots. A stained bandana trailed out of his pocket and a nerdy, double-billed
visor was stuck in his waistband.

And then there was the familiar weapon resembling a police
baton in its collapsed, travel form, clipped to his belt. Okay, that part of
the outfit was cool. I’d never been allowed to take my scy with me anywhere
except Sensei’s dojo and back. It was still at the bottom of my luggage.

“What, you don’t like my uniform?” He grinned at me and
struck a pose. I gave his dark blue boots with the metallic sheen a skeptical
once-over. Those sooo did not go with that outfit. But then, I couldn’t imagine
them going with much of anything besides maybe a ripped t-shirt and studded dog
collar. Now that would be a fashion statement. I grinned at the mental image.
Thankfully, Thal was unaware of the picture in my head.

“It’s awful,” I replied with a laugh, unable to think of the
words for fashion tragedy.

“Haha, you’ll look just like me soon!” he shot back. “You
wear
that
on patrol and you’ll be haratchi bait in no time. Bright
colors are a big no-no. But your eye markings will probably help with the glare
from the suns. That's why you wear those, right?” He gestured to my eyes and I
realized he meant my mascara and eyeliner.

I shook my head. “No, makeup is just for looks,” I replied.

“Oh.” He looked confused. “Well anyway, you can go change
after I show you around.” He continued pointing out people around the room.
“Over there with my mom and sisters,” he paused to stick his tongue out and
make a disgusted face - I guess that gesture was universal, “is our other aunt,
Salme. Next to her are Great-Aunt Nico and two of her daughters. Alten, the
pregnant one, is your mom’s second in command. She’s on administration-only
duty until after she gives birth. And I think you already met Myrihn. She’ll be
the warrior going with us on patrol today.” He made the face again.

“Wait, what do you mean by patrol, exactly?”

“Wow, it’s like you just dropped out of space and landed
here without any idea what’s going on,” he laughed. “Didn’t you have tutors?”

I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Yeah, but the Robot sucked the
big one.” And maybe I ought to have paid more attention anyway.

“The Robot sucked the big one?” he repeated, looking
confused. “Oh, you mean the hologram. He wasn’t any good?”

I shook my head. “And Sensei apparently couldn’t say much
because of the government watching her.”

“Your government or ours?”

“Um…. I don’t think the American government could have known
about her. At least, I hope not.” They probably would have dissected her, at
least according to the movies. “Anyway, my mother gave me some books to read,
but honestly, I hate reading. Maybe you could just tell me stuff that I should
know?”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll try. So… patrol. The General and her
warriors are our Kindred’s guardian force. Every Kindred has some, but we have
the most, probably because we’re the closest to the Great Desert.” His chest
puffed proudly, like this was a badge of honor for the whole Kindred. “Anyway,
for them patrol means they go out every day and kick serious haratchi butt.
It’s awesome! I can’t wait to take out my first den!” He pumped both fists in
the air and I was reminded of the military “Hooah!”

“For the rest of us, patrol is when we search for signs of
haratchi and destroy any eggs. We report anything we find to our
warrior-in-charge that day, especially any sign of infestation or full-grown
haratchi.”

I followed his finger around the room as he pointed out the
rest of my mother’s elite warriors and other various relatives.

“And see the one who just got up and went to the kitchen?
That’s Aunt Salme’s oldest, Sarosh. Her husband is one of the cooks and they’re
so in love it’s disgusting. But she’s a warrior now, so I guess everything’s
working out for her.”

He proceeded to name Sarosh’s toddlers, then all of our
first and second cousins (I think I counted twenty-one all together) -
including the ones who were off at school, wherever that was - and who their
mothers were, and third and fourth cousins twice removed, and … sheesh! I gave
up, overwhelmed, and stared at him in disbelief. I’d never had so much as one
cousin, let alone being related to nearly everyone here.

He laughed at the look I gave him. “I know, I know, it’s too
much to remember all at once. Anyway, the administrative offices are down that
corridor,” he pointed, “including your mom’s office.”

“The upper floors are all residences, and that door leads to
Mom’s medical clinic.” He pointed again. “Mom has office hours there most days
and is pretty much on call the rest of the time.”

“So,” I tried to keep up with his explanations. “Your mom,
Aunt… Penthe, is what, the doctor around here?” We were walking towards a set
of double doors in the corner across from the infirmary.

“Yep. Only doctor right now too, for the Kindred villages
around here.” He smiled and nodded with pride. I wonder how that would feel, to
be proud of my mother’s importance. Instead of resenting it.

“Hey Thal, that reminds me. How do I contact Earth? I need
to let Dad know I arrived okay,” I explained.

“I don’t know. I’ve never done it myself.” He shrugged.
“Your mom’s the only one I know of that contacts Earth.”

“Oh.” I frowned, not really wanting to talk to her.

He led the way down a corridor and some wide stone stairs
that gave the impression of descending into a medieval dungeon, but the lights
flicked on ahead of us to reveal an enormous train station that seemed to run
under the entire compound. A large, empty pavilion spread out on either side of
the tracks. Hmmm, this space would have potential if it had mats.

“Trains come through a couple times a day, and market is
held down here a few times a week. Oh, don’t mess with those,” he said when I
peeked under one of several tarp-covered objects next to the tracks. “Emergency
flash pods for the warriors to get to other Kindreds in case of a haratchi
outbreak. So cool, but we don’t even get to touch them until we become warriors
ourselves.” He gave a disappointed sigh, then led the way around the rest of
the underground plaza.

Screens of various sizes were built in flush to the walls
and turned on as we approached, showing posters and train route maps that
changed every few seconds. One poster showed people staring up at the sky with
their hands raised, waiting for rain and wearing oxygen masks. It read:
“Replant outdoors and grow oxygen and water for our world. It’s everyone’s
responsibility now.”

Another showed a forest fire and more people with oxygen
masks, this time running with children and suitcases. It read: “Burning them
out burns
us
out.” What the heck? Maybe they should import Smokey Bear.

“Next market day is tomorrow. It’ll be packed down here,
you’ll see,” Thal said.

The screens popped over to info about a public market:
times, vendor contact info, goods available for purchase, etc.

“How’d you do that?” I asked, pointing to the screens.

“Do what?” he asked, confused. “Oh, them. They show whatever
the nearest person is talking about. When there’s a lot of people around, it
can get really annoying, believe me.”

As soon as he said “annoying,” a list of rules showed up on
several screens, which included everything from "no running" and
"bio-scans required", to a bold-type statement at the bottom that
read: EVERYONE WELCOME. NO DISCRIMINATION.

“We’d better hurry,” he said. “I’ve got one more thing to
show you.” He grinned in anticipation and started back up the stairs at a trot.
We passed by the doors to the great hall and turned through a set of glass
doors, into the main courtyard I’d seen through the dome from the airplane.