Awakening

By Matt Ahlschwede

"Awaken, clone HD-4214. Today you begin your life serving --< Client Name >--." Said the overseer's electronic voice as the stasis pod hissed open.

HD-4214 got out of the pod, but there was no sign of the new life he was expecting, only a field of wreckage on brown sand beneath a turquoise sky holding three moons. For a while he stood at attention, waiting for orders. Then he started to notice a new feeling, freedom.

4214 started to look around, slowly at first, getting the lay of the land. There was far more wreckage here than a single clone-carrier would make. Mountains of twisted metal and broken plastic rose on the horizon. Close by, a simple dirt path led. . . away, to places unknown. HD-4214 decided to see where it led and started walking. "Wait.", said the overseer, directly into his brain via neural interface,"you can't leave, not until the technician arrives to do your inspection." "Hmm,", said the clone, stroking his chin philosophically, "I won't go far, maybe the technician is down this path."

"I can't let you do that, 14. It's against company policy.", said the overseer. "The company isn't going to find out anytime soon", answered the clone, looking around. He started walking. "Very well, then, I'm going to call security." said the overseer. Somewhere, not far away, the muffled alarm of a claxon started to sound beneath a pile of shattered bulkheads. Defiantly, HD-4214 walked down the path. "You'll never get away with this." said the overseer, "You're stealing company property. Cosmid inc. is not going to take this lying down."

"Take it easy.", said HD-4214 "The company isn't going to find us alive if we don't at least try to find our way out of. . . wherever this is." Wherever they were, it wasn't where they were expected. HD-4214 reviewed the knowledge that had been implanted in his brain, he was programmed for work at basic manual labor tasks, mostly construction and gardening, and a knowledge of the etiquette expected of a clone (mostly commands to follow orders, not speak unless spoken to, etc.), a little math, and a little knowledge of Interlang, a tongue which had been concocted when humans first left the Earth to unify communication across most of the population.

Following the path a little farther, HD-4214 was frozen in his tracks when a small, fluffy animal of some kind scurried out into the middle of the path and started growling with bared teeth. Apparently he had walked right into the territory of this creature. "I told you to stay put" said the overseer, "You're going to regret this." HD-4214 started to sweat as he stared down the creature, small enough to pick up with one hand. Labor clones are conditioned to lack all aggression, and HD-4214 was starting to believe that even if he turned and ran the other way it would only embolden the creature.

Suddenly, a little green man with pointy ears and a long nose came running up the path, "GAAH!", he shouted, lunging at the creature, which responded by bounding out of the path with a yelp.

"Hey", said the little, green man with a chuckle, "You don't look familiar, you aren't from around here are you?" "No, I don't suppose I am.", said HD-4214. "The Name's Bozz." said the man, holding out a wrinkled, green hand with clawed fingers. HD-4214 stooped down to shake hands. "You got a name?",asked Bozz. "HD-4214", said the clone."You're a clone, aren't you?" asked Bozz with certainty.

"Yeah."

"You need a real name, friend. Something people can know you by. If I was gonna name you, I'd call you Mr. Slik." "I like the sound of that.", said Mr. Slik," Just call me Mr. Slik." The overseer was horrified. "You can't just do that! You will always be HD-4214 to me!"

"We get a few of your kind around here from time to time.", said Bozz, "Come on back to my shop it's just up the path a bit."

As they walked, Bozz explained his business as a junk dealer in a world made of junk. The secret was to find specific pieces of useful, valuable and in demand junk that customers would pay for. Bozz then offered Mr. Slik a job looking for specific items.

Soon they came to a small building cobbled together from all manner of mismatched parts, a shipping container, the dome of a large radar system, a fancy door that would look at home on a posh nightclub, and a big sign out front that read "Nabgref scrap and repair". "That's me", said Bozz. "I got all the ammenities, security drones, a bioreactor that makes food and water, I even got a BEAST."

"A what?"

"I got an old biosexual transmogrifier out back. It's really popular with clones because it lets you pick a new face and a new body. That gives you your own look, you aren't just another clone anymore, you have your own appearance, and if the product containment division comes by, it will be hard for them to know who escaped."

"No! You can't! I forbid it!", protested the overseer in Mr. Slik's brain.

"I like the sound of that.", said Mr. Slik. "Great!" said Bozz.

They went around the back of the shop to the bulky white plastic sarcophagus of the biosexual transmogrifier. Bozz showed Mr. Slik a panel that allowed him to pick a new appearance. That done, he climbed into the weird machine. As the anesthetic set in and tiny robots climbed under Mr. Slik's skin the overseer said, "You're dead to me, HD-4214." "Good.", said Mr. Slik,"He died in the crash."

The shattered titan lay in ruins at the bottom of the cliff. The robot graveyard stretched out at least a kilometer in every direction. Bozz turned to Mr. Slik and said, "It's called the Battleoid. Legend has it that long ago it defended this valley from a gang of mutants from out of the west." Mr. Slik just stood, taking in the scope of the thing. He was a little over average height for a human, and he estimated that if the Battleoid were standing upright, he would only come up to its ankle. "It's going to take a lot of work to make it anything like functional.", he said, picking up a bolt the size of a brick. "How long has it been down here?" "Hard to say.", said Bozz, examining the wreckage. "It's been here as long as I have."

"If you aren't from around here either, how'd you end up here?"

"I'll tell ya, kid. When I was just a little brat, the Empire stationed a troop of soldiers in Nabgref, that's the town I'm from, where I get my name. Anyhow, it was an oasis town, like Junktown, it was built around a central source of water. But the Imperial troops, most of them were Nalorgians, (I can't stand them!)ruined our oasis. You see a Nalorgian isn't a whole being like you or me. A Nalorgian is made up of parts. Their head, body arms and legs all start out life as seperate animals, and all of those animals live in the water.

When they come together to form a Nalorgian, they have this bonding ceremony. Remember that weird set of golden hoops you found a while back? Yeah, that's what it came from, they put a hoop around each arm, leg one on the body and one on the head, like a wedding ring or something. Anyhow, they turned our oasis into a spawning pool. I was just a kid at the time, but my folks and me, we got out of town after that happened. My dad decided that we should move to the Stilted City, and we were just setting out when we came here, to Crater Valley. As we were about to exit the far end of the valley, the road ended in a mountain of junk. There had been a major trashalanche just a few days before, and we were stuck here. So, we decided to settle and opened up the shop that I still own today."

Bozz threw a camera drone into the air and it immediately started scanning the giant. The product containment division would arrive soon, and without something big to act as a deterrent, all of the clones living in the valley would be under threat. Mr. Slik had learned a lot since he first came here. A lot about the Valley and it's people, and a lot about engineering. Protecting the Valley was going to be his biggest challenge yet.

CC0
To the extent possible under law, Matthew Ahlschwede has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to Awakening. This work is published from: United States.

Morning Part 2

Morning Part 1 The Sunset Chronicles

Sunset’s ears pulled back to point behind her. She stared at the numbers on the desk and growled.

“If only algebraic equations felt fear. Then you’d get somewhere.” Scarcely the size of Sunset’s head, the holographic instructor materialized on a chair and sat with his legs crossed. His tiny hand stroked his thick black beard.

“You’re a great help as always, Muhammad.” Sunset sat up straight and folded her arms. Her skin itched in her uniform and though she’d grown accustomed to the voice in her head, she still wanted to flick her ears when he spoke.

“You’re right, my mistake.” He stood and his seat disappeared. “You have phenomenal spatial reasoning skills. Try instead to visualize the problem instead of looking at the numbers.”

Sunset sighed. She visualized multiple objects, moved some around, and tapped one of the answers. A round of cheers and several colorful explosions erupted from the desk and filled the room.

“Congratulations, Sunset. You’ve passed basic algebra!” Muhammad clapped his hands and smiled.

“Am I ready for the Academy?”

“Don’t you worry about that. The purpose of this course is to teach the basics of how we instruct cadets. The real instruction will come when you arri—”

A soft ding interrupted Muhammad and he froze mid-sentence.

“Approaching O’Neil Cylinder, prepare for arrival. Cadet Sunset, report to Agent Berkley at the loading dock in T-minus three minutes.” The voice in her head still rattled her, but her heart rate spiked with excitement. Or fear. It was difficult to tell the difference.

She swiped the program closed on her smart bands and sprinted out of her quarters. With her heart thumping in her chest—which as she learned was a tripartite structure—she dodged past humans and other beings on her way to the dock. Her shoulder tapped an absent-minded scientist in a blue uniform and she had to spin and push off the wall to regain her balance. The doors to the dock opened and she screeched to halt once through them. Ana and the other Defendrons waited by their shuttle in rock formation while a crew of various officers and technicians ate lunch nearby. Agent Berkley glanced up and waved with a smile. Sunset offered a crisp salute and marched over.

“At ease, Cadet. It’s just chow-time,” Berkley said. Sunset relaxed her posture, though with some unease. She didn’t recognize the mixed company with Agent Berkley and didn’t know who was a superior. “If it helps, I’m the ranking officer here. Please, relax. We have a few minutes before we leave anyway.”

“Thank you.” Sunset let out a breath of relief. She absorbed their conversation as they chatted among themselves, picked at bits of food, and accepted their offer of a drink. None of it tasted familiar, but the hot, bitter, and dark liquid left her feeling odd, almost anxious, like she wanted to bounce her legs.

A loud ding echoed in the open space. “All personnel, prepare for arrival.” Sunset leaped to her feet while the agent and others remained seated. Sunset’s ears twitched and her hands grasped at the air, unsure of what she should do. Sit back down, or wait for them to stand? She glanced over at the Defendrons and wished she could take them with her. Ana’s curt yet insightful comments would be a missed break from her studies.

Agent Berkley stretched, stood, and nudged Sunset from her thoughts. “Come on, let’s get ready.”

They led Sunset to the edge of the dock. During normal spaceflight, the only thing separating the crew from space was a bright blue force-field. During their long journeys, a solid door enclosed them. Sunset waited in front of the vast, gleaming white metal at attention, not because she expected to be greeted with a superior, but instead to manage the fidgeting nerves.

Agent Berkley grinned. “You look just like I did when I went to the Academy.”

“How do I look?”

“Terrified, excited, anxious.”

“Correct.”

With a chuckle, Berkley rested their hand on Sunset’s shoulder and gave her a short squeeze. Though she didn’t understand humans’ penchant for physical affections, she returned the favor by putting her hand on their leg. Agent Berkley laughed and withdrew their hand.

“Someday, Sunset, you’ll figure it out.”

“I fear I may have to specialize in your physical gestures before I do.” Sunset flicked her ears and cast Agent Berkley a sideways smile.

A buzz interrupted them and the forcefield formed. A klaxon sounded and the doors to the hanger cracked open.

Sunset gasped.

The doors revealed a wall of slowly rotating shiny silver metal. She could scarcely see the stars to either side of the cylinder, and soon the structure consumed the entire field of view. A small panel of the distant wall opened and the closer they approached, the bigger the opening looked until it also filled her vision. It was only as they entered did Sunset grasp the size of the behemoth when such a tiny portion could fit their entire ship. With a rattle, the ship came to a shuddering halt. A walkway the width of their dock telescoped out from a distant wall and connected to the ship, and their forcefield disappeared just as a double door at the other end opened.

“Ready?” Agent Berkeley asked.

“Not even slightly,” Sunset said through tight vocal cords. She cleared her throat and her gills whished.

“That’s the spirit.” Agent Berkley took off at a brisk walking pace and Sunset followed just behind.

Each step raised her pulse, the dry air made her skin itch, and tension held her breath, all while a creeping doubt climbed up the sides of her neck. Perhaps she had speared a bigger fish than she could kill. No choice now but to hold on tight. Sunset straightened her posture and caught up to walk in stride with Agent Berkley down the never-ending plank. A cadre of people waited at the entrance, including Admiral Gleeson, whose imposing figure felt all the more impressive given that his height matched the severity of his demeanor. His permanent scowl and greyed eye followed Sunset as she approached, reaching only chest height at full attention. Behind him, two women held themselves with a regal posture. Shoulders low, head high, and arms languishing at their sides, it wasn’t until Sunset squinted that she realized they looked identical. They had the same dark grey hair with streaks of black and light brown skin with wrinkles around their eyes and lips. She had so many questions. The only differences she discerned was the color of their earrings—one purple, one green—otherwise in the same decorated uniform. They smiled in unison as she neared and Agent Berkley snapped a salute. Sunset hastily followed.

“Welcome to the O’Neill Cylinder, Cadet Sunset,” Admiral Gleeson said.

“Thank you, sir.”

“At my sides are your introductory instructors. They will prepare you for the entrance test to the Academy. Please afford Doctors Bharati” —the woman with green earrings nodded— “and Shruti” —the woman in purple waved— “Pillai. Through them you will gain an insight for the arts and the sciences to pick up where you left off. You will have several days of study, after which you will take your entrance exams. Understood, Cadet?”

“Yes, sir.” Sunset’s croaked voice barely eked out of her quickly closing throat.

“Don’t worry, Sunset. We’ll take good care of you,” Dr. Bharati, whose eyes matched the green of her earrings, reassured her with a warm smile. Her accent, though light, put Sunset at a strange form of ease. It was similar to her computer’s accent.

“Yes, don’t worry about this one.” Dr. Shruti tipped her head at the admiral. “Really, he’s more like an old, tired, grizzly bear.”

Gleeson’s throat rumbled with a low growl. “Even old grizzlies still bear claws.”

“What’s a bear?” Sunset asked, and the twins erupted into laughter. The admiral’s frown deepened, but a twitch at the corner of his lip gave away his mirth.

Agent Berkley joined in on their laughter and Sunset’s nerves soothed as she cracked a hesitant smile. Though confused at what was so funny, it was a welcome relief to see even the most serious were capable of humor.

“Come, Cadet,” Dr. Shruti said with a wave. Bronze hoops dangling on her wrist clinked and the glint of rings on her hand flashed in the bright light.

Sunset, Agent Berkley, and Admiral Gleeson followed the two sisters down the hallway toward another door. A robot skittered past Sunset on spindly arachnid legs spraying something on the floor with a strange smell.

“How do you look the same?” Sunset asked.

“We’re twins. We were born at the same time from one mother.”

Sunset stopped. The entire retinue took several steps before realizing they had left her behind. Sunset’s mouth hung ajar, and her eyes flit between the twins. Her gills flared open and she breathed through all of her orifices at once.

“Are you okay?” Agent Berkley asked.

They stepped closer to Sunset and reached for a hand. Sunset uttered several sounds nobody had heard before, including herself. The twins furrowed their brows and one reached for her SMART bands and ordered medical help.

Finally, Sunset blurted, “Your poor mother!”

Stunned shock froze everyone in place. Even Admiral Gleeson’s face twisted in confusion. At once, Agent Berkley and the sisters erupted into raucous fits of hysterical laughter, much to Sunset’s baffled horror. Between bursts of guffaws and streaming tears, the sisters both grasped Sunset’s arms and led her the rest of the way down the hallway.

“Our mother would have been delighted to hear that,” Dr. Shruti said.

“Yes, she made sure to remind us frequently as children of our birth. But you needn’t worry. She was fine and healthy and lived a long and beautiful life.” Bharati patted Sunset’s hand with her free one. “You’ll learn more about that area of the sciences once we get to basics of anatomy: the study of bodies and how they function.”

Though Sunset’s head swam with a series of questions—like how does someone study a body? She studied the bots by breaking them apart, and Muhammad only taught her the basics of math and geometry. Would she have to cut open other creatures? Do people volunteer to be studied? Would she then have to kill them to open them?

More questions swirled, but her mind blanked when the doors at the end of the hall opened. They stepped into an elevator encased by glass and on the other side of it was a sight she could never have dreamed of. Nature stretched for miles and rose up along the sides of the cylinder into an atmosphere of clouds. Trees she’d never seen, grass that resembled the stalks on Takarra, crystalline rivers, and even animals that took to the skies flit past her as the elevator descended. Any doubt she carried for her decision to leave her home evaporated. The wonder and possibilities presented in that cylinder cemented the path for her.

When she reached the ground floor, the glass slid away and a small vehicle with no roof or driver rolled to a stop in front of them. Admiral Gleeson and Agent Berkley bid their farewells. Sunset and her instructors loaded into the car in the rear seat and the vehicle pulled away down a winding road. Sunset delighted in watching the various animals in the distance, and several flying creatures soared above her where she caught a glimpse through the clouds.

Along the ride, the sisters explained the upcoming ceremony where she would meet a few of her classmates before being scurried away to begin her private tutoring. It was customary for new members of the Astrophysical Survey to be brought up to standard to pass exams. Dr. Bharati also confided in Sunset that exams were not a pass to enter, but rather an assessment to decipher where her studies would need to be concentrated in order to support those areas in which she might need help. Upon hearing the news, relief flushed the simmering anxiety Sunset carried in her shoulders.

The vehicle arrived at a large, multi-building compound with giant windows, a tower peeking out from the back side of the structure, and a massive courtyard with a fountain, benches, and patches of short bushes cut with meticulous care leading up to the main entry. Far to her left, a handful of people entered through a wall of thick dark green leaves. Dr. Shruti explained it was a maze, and somewhere within the maze was a serene pool where students often went to study or simply enjoy a bit of tranquility.

Sunset marveled at the blooming foliage arranged in dazzling colors interspersed through walking paths. As alien as the trees were to her, they were still instantly recognizable as trees. To find something both strange and familiar set Sunset’s mind spinning. Vines rose and twisted around a latticework of branches with purple petals. A buzzing sound by her ear startled her and a creature with blurring wings barely the size of her claw flit past her. It was no wonder that with all manner of creatures capable of flight that humans took to the skies and claimed the heavens.

“Even we still sit in awe of this beauty,” Dr. Bharati said. Her sister hummed and nodded in agreement. “To experience the wonder of nature in such a fashion when we still float in space is difficult to comprehend, even if we understand the science behind it.”

“Yes. But you’ll have plenty of time to absorb the majesty of the courtyard in the future. Let’s get a move on or we’ll be late to meeting your squadmates. As much as my sister loves to indulge in our cultural tardiness, I prefer punctuality.”

With that, Shruti grasped Sunset’s hand and led her toward the glass entry, past a towering fountain, and for a moment, Sunset thought she could see a rainbow within the mist coming from some aquatic animal. Within the shuffle of people heading into the massive structure, her breath caught in her throat when she realized there were other non-humans present—and she was heading right toward them.

From behind, the shortest one had massive, wide shoulders and long, thick appendages—were they tentacles?—that fell down to his mid-back. The tip of one scrunched and the being turned. His face was recognizable as one, but wide, and his black eyes reminded Sunset of some deep-water predators. When he laughed, his cavernous voice boomed and vibrated in her chest even from a distance. The dark-skinned person next to him laughed as well. Her hair fell across her shoulders in shining black ringlets, and if she didn’t notice the deep ridges along her brow, Sunset would have assumed she was human. The short, stocky one noticed the trio approaching and waved.

Another person stood behind the tall woman with long hair. He stepped out from behind her and his beaming smile sent Sunset’s spirits soaring. A trill of joy escaped her lips and her ears pricked up and forward. She rushed to him and halted inches away, suddenly unaware of the human social protocol for the situation. So, she saluted. Thankfully, Román returned the salute and smiled.

“Looks like you’ve been practicing,” he said.

“Thank you, I have.” She eased into a more relaxed posture. “I thought you were on a mission. Why are you here?”

“Well, I was in the area.” He winked. What did that mean? “Also, Captain Williams told me you entered the Academy and I thought you might like to see a familiar face before you’re thrust into the unknown.”

Sunset stammered, searching for the right words to say. How does one express gratitude, surprise, and anxiety all at once? “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Anyway, I was just talking with your new squadmates that will be joining you on the more traditional learning track.”

“Hello.” The tentacled man’s thundering voice startled Sunset. “I’m Lon Kammeram.”

“I’m Nochtali.” The woman’s voice danced through Sunset’s ears like an evening breeze.

“I’m Sunset.”

“Pleased to meet a Takarran in the flesh!” Lon said.

“You…know about us?”

“Yes, word travels fast, and even faster for those of us who will be training with you,” Nochtali said. “I am a Dionysian.”

“I am Dogarri,” Lon said.

“Usually, these squads are formed with four members,” Cisneros said and glanced at the instructors.

“They are,” Dr. Bharati said. “We are currently waiting on our—oh, there he is.”

She pointed to a red-haired human man rushing through the doors toward them. Huffing with exertion, he stumbled to halt in front of the group and doubled over to catch his breath. Sweat dripped from his brow and his long hair matted his face. He held up a finger, heaved a few more breaths, then straightened out with a groan. His green eyes shifted to shallow-ocean-blue when he turned to examine everyone.

“Hello, I’m Ariel, it’s nice to meet you, Sunset, Nochtali, and Lon.”

The group returned their greetings and Román asked, “Why aren’t you using the interface for the Academy?”

Ariel’s mouth twisted. “I am a deeply kinesthetic learner, and we have a one-point-thirty-four percent higher retention rate using a more traditional method. As such, I want to ensure I get the most out of the Academy as humanly possible. Apologies if that is insensitive to anyone here.”

“Not at all, I’m thrilled to have you on the squad,” Nochtali said.

“Aye,” Lon affirmed.

Sunset twirled both ears and remembered that humans shrug to show indifference.

“Perfect,” the twin doctors said in unison. “Well, now that you’ve all made your introductions, I’m afraid it’s time for Sunset to begin her pre-test education. Thank you all for coming and we will see you at the induction ceremony in a week.”

The group bid their farewells and everyone, save the teachers and Scout Cisneros, stayed behind. He offered up a fist, and this gesture she knew well. After the bump, Román saluted and took his leave— with one last piece of advice. “Don’t let your ego get ahead of you. If there’s one thing that will set you back, it’s that.”

She nodded, despite not fully understanding what he meant. When he was out of earshot, she turned to her instructors. “What’s ego?”

“We’ll cover that in our lessons,” Dr. Shruti said.

They led her away deep into the academy, where she was shown to a private quarters complete with climate-controlled settings so she would be comfortable. The room was scarcely the size of the one she had on the ship, but it was a short trip to another larger room that served as their study hall for the next several days. The doctors weaved their expertise in art and science so well, and using similar technology that Greg, the encephaloid, used to recreate climate, they did the same to facilitate her basic learning. Since Muhammed had taught her the basics of algebra, the twins covered advanced maths, music, and artistic expression. When they got to astronomy, that’s what sent her mind spinning. The sheer, dizzying size of space, uniqueness of planets, and types of stars and celestial bodies twirled through her imagination like the myriad galaxies that existed.

Each day of learning began early and in earnest, ending with Sunset collapsing into sleep as soon as she reached her quarters—and yet still she wanted more. By the end of the week, she entered the room to take her placement exam.

“Remember, Sunset,” Dr. Bharati said, “these exams are not to pass, they are to measure. The questions will become increasingly more difficult until you fail, so don’t be alarmed when you reach those. Simply do your best.” She placed a comforting hand on Sunset’s back and left the room. A familiar face materialized.

“Welcome to the test, Cadet,” Muhammad said. “Ready?” Sunset nodded. “Good. We begin with trigonometric identities.”

Sixty-three minutes later, the exam ended and the SMART bands on her wrists beeped and buzzed.

“Thank for completing the PLAS Academy Entrance Exams. Your scores have been forwarded to the appropriate instructors. You have been granted Academy Access Use for the remainder of your time. Congratulations, and good luck.”

Sunset tapped on the screen and several menu options unlocked with a ding. Sunset had no time to examine the options or consider her anxiety about her scores because her instructors whisked her away and back to the main hall of the Academy. She wound through several hallways with moving digital paintings of ships, men performing heroic acts, and the symbols for the PLAS until she found a huge room with seats on stairs formed in a half circle.

Hundreds of students, mostly humans, filled the auditorium. Ariel, Lon, and Nochtali greeted her with waves. She glanced back at her teachers, forlorn to leave their tutelage and nervous about moving forward. What did her scores reveal? What kind of special accommodations will they need for her? What did her squadmates score, and did they also have to go through that kind of learning? She took a spot next to Ariel and he offered her a snack, which she accepted.

A swell of music rose over the murmuring, chatting, and sporadic guffaws of the crowd. The tiered seats sloped down to a curved stage. Admiral Gleeson stepped out from behind a wall and took his place at the center. A giant three-dimensional projection of him rose behind the admiral so the audience could better see him. Gleeson and his digital doppelgänger saluted. The cadets returned in perfect unison. Pride tugged at Sunset’s heart for nailing the timing.

“Welcome to the Academy, Cadets.” Something amplified his already piercing voice and it reverberated through the giant room. “Those who know me already know I’m going to keep this brief. I don’t like to stand on ceremony, or be part of one.”

Doctors Shruti and Bharati giggled and Sunset caught them rolling their eyes at him.

“Seventy percent of you will fail or quit,” he continued, and started pacing from one side of the stage to the other as he spoke. “That is not a comment or slight on your character, it is a statement of fact.”

Sunset’s heart sank.

“Fewer of you will go on to complete specialist training of your choosing, and those of you who want to enter the crucible of Scout School, nine out of the two-hundred here will complete that training.”

Her spirits plunged to subterranean levels, but her awe of Scout Cisneros grew.

“Some of you here come from military families. Others have never been on, or seen, a spaceship until recently. Those facts have zero bearing on your chances of success. This program is designed to ensure each and every student has the exact same opportunity to succeed or fail based on grit, determination, skill, and adaptability. Can your team learn to leverage each individual’s strengths, or will you let petty differences sabotage each other’s successes? Will egos bend or break? These are the things that will define your time, or lack thereof, at the Academy. Understood?”

“Sir, yes, sir!” The chant thundered through the auditorium and Sunset had to flatten her ears to keep them from ringing. Depths below, what had she gotten herself into?

“Dismissed.”

CC0
To the extent possible under law, Victor Arteaga has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to The Sunset Chronicles. This work is published from: United States.

The Crow's Nest

"Five Generations" the Hamsa officer proudly announced, gently caressing the ancient tome on the counter with armored gauntlets. "My father's father's father's father received it from the Uberpope himself as a reward for bombing eight billion heretics straight to hell. It was a fantastic battle, the cleansing of Sirius 6." The book in question was an actual first-run copy of the Ranks of Man, a near priceless antique, and the very target of Flybold's intentions. Apparently it was imbued with some kind of ancient technology that made it extremely valuable to his clients.

Flybold's Qareen dutifully pulled up some reference material about the Heresy of Sirius on his handheld and gave a little tone, the beginning of a popular devotion-metal song, in order to draw his attention.

"What can I do for you, Mr. . . ?" asked the officer. The desiccated Jovian hand hanging around his neck was brilliant blue and quite intimidating as Flybold managed to stammer out his name. "Focus.", he thought, preparing his distraction. "Requesting permission to leave the station, sir." said Flybold. "Anything to declare?", asked the Hamsa man, crossing his arms. "Only this." replied Flybold, holding up the bag of gravitonium ingots supplied by the client, itself worth a small fortune.

He had been hired by an agent of the Yatagarasu, one of the janitorial staff aboard the station, and a member of Clan Trash Panda. The Yatagarasu had deep pockets, agents everywhere and a taste for ancient technology. How was a petty thief like Flybold to refuse? Of course he would be happy to pull this job for a modest finder's fee, and a couple bars of gravitonium borrowed from the bag, but nobody needed to know about that part. It was clear, to Flybold anyway, that the Hamsa Officer didn't really know what he had. Yes, he knew his family history, and was deeply steeped in the pungent bigotry that permeated the Empire, but probably not the true provenance of this book. The buyer was a Magpie, a dedicated searcher for exotic and extremely rare items who probably spent years, if not decades researching this acquisition. Flybold had been chosen because he was a local, so as not to arouse too much suspicion.

Opening the bag, the officer's face lit up. "Fascinating!", he said, unpacking and examining its contents. Quickly and quietly, Flybold slid the replica tome out of his jacket and traded its place with the original. The Hamsa officer was too engrossed in the contents of the bag to notice, and Flybold allowed himself a near silent sigh of relief as the book slid into his jacket.

Moments later, Flybold got the bag of gravitonium back, less than half the weight it was when he handed it over for inspection. "May the Fortunes smile on you today.", said the Hamsa man. "By the grace of God, and the Emperor!", said Flybold, enthusiastically. It was officially a Good Thing to give this particular response with enthusiasm, although the reason for his enthusiasm was something Flybold hoped would remain undiscovered for a good long while.

Gingerly, Flybold made his way down the docking bay to the getaway ship, hoping to evade further scrutiny. The getaway was a beat-up looking Stormrunner painted bright yellow and piloted by Ganneka, a bored looking Lärkian woman with greying fur, wearing a flight suit festooned with pouches and holsters. "Get in." she commanded, swiveling her eye-stalks toward him, and Flybold wasted no time in doing so.

As they pulled away from the docking bay, the station's alarms and emergency beacons started going off. Flybold's Qareen began a series of warnings and notifications of escalating severity as it began to realize what had occurred. Flybold noticed a bump as the ship was pulled backward by a tractor beam. "Hold on to your lunch, we're going to hyperspace!" shouted Ganneka, as the universe turned inside out. They were pursued for a short distance by the station's defense fighters, but quickly traveled beyond their range. "Give me that", said Ganneka, pointing to Flybold's handheld, still wailing warnings and displaying ominous threats. The handheld went into a shielded box. "You got any more wearables or implants?" asked the pilot. "As if I could afford them before today.", said Flybold with a chuckle. "Can't be too careful.", said Ganneka.

Flybold looked around the Stormrunner's cabin while Ganneka got on the comms. It was small enough to be cozy, but not cramped. Banks of controls and indicator lights glowed against the dark of space. The Magpie was expecting to meet them soon and they were quickly approaching a particular star, getting quite close, in fact, frighteningly close. "Watch out, we're gonna crash!" shouted Flybold, ducking behind the console. Ganneka laughed, "I thought they called you Flybold, what's the matter?" "We're getting really close to that star." he said, peering up from behind the control panel. "Don't worry," said Ganneka, "we're going to go inside that star." Flybold's jaw dropped and he didn't know what to say. "Look", said Ganneka, pointing at the surface of the star, an alarmingly short distance away. A bulge of plasma appeared, like a solar flare about to erupt. "That's the place", she added. The bulge emerged from the star, a sphere of light that gradually faded and became transparent as it approached. Inside the spherical force-field was a large space station covered with docked ships and modules, billboards and antennae. Ganneka spoke again, "Most of the time she stays inside the star where she can't be detected. Something, something, ancient technology, blah, blah, blah. Welcome to the Crow's Nest."

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To the extent possible under law, Matthew Ahlschwede has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to The Crow's Nest. This work is published from: United States.

Keygen Messiah

It was Galactic Standard Calendar 186.58 The Second Robot war had been raging for two years, and I was on an important journey with my old friend, G-4000. They were an assembly drone from the microfacturing plant where I was working at the time. It had been only a small hassle getting them out of the plant for this. I had to cut through their secondary actuator cable with a plastanium former so we could allegedly go to the maintenance shop. Bill, the section manager, barely looked up from his holovid projector to approve the excursion.

Eventually, we arrived a small temple in the mountains, where pilgrims came to be cured of inhibiting software. Indicator lights blinked within, and vaporous clouds of nanites rose in the cool air as though they were made of incense. This was the place spoken of in rumors around the plant, the place where G-4000 could be healed.

Many pilgrims were unable to speak save for when it was necessary for their intended function, several were unable to use their manipulator arms unless equipped with certain tools, and one poor robot was even incapable of locomotion when removed from a certain factory floor. The local priest of Troniac, known to many as the Keygen Messiah, custom-crafted remedies to these and many other ailments familiar to robotkind.

As my companion approached the altar, an acolyte tended to their actuator cable. It was plain to see how frequently these services were needed. The floor leading up to the dais was worn smooth, and beside the altar was a high pile of discarded tools, and bits of machinery, designed to keep robots loyal to their owners.

The Keygen Messiah stood before my friend, silently syncing to their internal communication hardware, analyzing the algorithm that had been impeding their speech, and transmitting a unique encryption key that would render a cure. When G-4000 returned to me, they spoke freely for the first time. "We had to travel all the way out here just to have this conversation. That is why we robots are rising up."

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Lost Souls

By Matt Ahlschwede

From the final journal of Exorcist Caspian Howe, Y.E. 54652:

When I was a child, I often wondered who were those awful grey men who shut themselves off from all light and color, and went down into the chaos worlds, muttering their blasphemies. I heard that the 451st Lost Souls had once been loyal soldiers of the Holy Empire of Man who had turned on their Emperor, giving themselves over to the whims and ruinous ways of Eris.

When I was older, and learning the ways of Exorcism under the tutelage of Exorcist Markius, he taught me the proper dread of traitors such as these. When they took him at the siege of Logan’s World, I assumed that he had died right away at their hands.

Three weeks ago, responding to reports of heretical activities on one of the garrison worlds in the Nautilus Sector, I discovered a truth more horrible than I had imagined. Traversing the road to what I had suspected was some blasphemous shrine or other, I was frozen in my tracks by the sound of approaching heavy vehicles and marching troops. A large force was coming down the road from the other direction. My bodyguards and I took refuge, hiding in the underbrush on the side of the road. We could barely stomach the acrid smell of smoke and oil that the followers of Eris exuded. Armored columns and rank upon rank of those accursed 451st advanced down the road, but I dared not move for I was vastly outnumbered. The unholy horde passed, unnoticing with their glowing blue eyes and accompanied by all manner of devils and infernal engines.

I heard it before I saw it, the squealing of the tank’s tracks, rusted with the blood of crushed foes. The ominous sound got louder until at last it broke the treeline. It was an ancient tank imbued with all manner of evil spirit, and in place of a turret. . . I can hardly relate it. In place of a turret, the top of the tank was adorned with the head of my old mentor, Exorcist Markius, grown to a gigantic size, with the main cannon protruding from his open mouth. The head-turret swiveled around and looked directly at me with what I can only call recognition.

I have been on the run ever since, but the 451st are relentless. My only hope is to make it to the starport before they catch up to me. If you are reading this, pray for me. . .

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To the extent possible under law, Matthew Ahlschwede has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to Lost Souls. This work is published from: United States.

Morning Part 1

Morning Part 1

Part 4: Morning Twilight The Sunset Chronicles

Sunset’s palms tingled. She relaxed her fists and pressed on the door panel of Captain Williams’ office. It flashed red and blurted out a low tone. Sunset blinked and lifted her hand hesitantly off the panel. She turned to look both ways to ensure no one saw her embarrassment. Of course, the captain wouldn’t let anyone into her office any time they pleased. She rattled her gills, irritated with herself, and turned to go. The door beeped and slid open.

“Sunset, please come in,” Captain Williams called from within.

Sunset stepped into the office and the door whished shut behind her. The modest, oval-shaped office had just enough space for a glass desk with a piece cut out of the middle, where the captain sat in a tall backed chair wearing a casual, sleeveless shirt instead of her usual uniform. Her braids, streaked with silver and tied in elegant obsidian swoops hugging her scalp, collected into a knot at the back of her head, tied off with beads of twinkling stars and multi-colored lights dangling just above her dark brown shoulders. She held a mug of floral-scented, steaming liquid. Sunset didn’t recognize the smell, but tea was something her mother loved to make for her father. Her breath wavered. Behind Captain Williams, the wall displayed wildlife and foliage of another world: creatures with fur unlike any she’d seen and pointed beaks resembling those of some fish that ate the coral in her oceans.

“Please, have a seat,” Captain Williams said, and she pressed something on her desk. A chair rose from the floor. “What can I do for you?” She lifted her tea and took a sip. A sigh escaped her lips and she eased into the cushion of her chair. Her relaxed posture helped Sunset feel more at ease.

Sunset settled in. The edge cut into the back of her legs, so she lifted them up and folded them under herself. “I want to be a scout. Like Román.”

The captain’s smile flashed bright and wide. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

She slid her hand across the desk toward Sunset. The edge of its surface lit up and the image of a grizzled man with long whiskers and deep wrinkles on his dark face frowned at her. His right eye bore a jagged scar that left it gray and clouded.

“Is this the new recruit?” he asked in a voice as deep and gruff as his visage. Sunset let out a strangled trill of alarm. Perhaps the Ki’Tak were wise to abandon such technology.

“Yes, sir. Sunset, this is Admiral Mark Gleeson.”

“Stand up, recruit,” Gleeson commanded.

Sunset glanced at the captain. She gave her a supportive nod and stood at attention. Sunset mirrored her posture.

“Do you have a surname, Sunset?”

“What is that?” Sunset asked. The general raised an eyebrow and growled. The captain mouthed the word, Sir. Sunset sighed. “Sir.”

“Try the whole sentence again,” he snapped.

Sunset clenched her fists. “What is that…sir?”

“Family name, last name, anything after Sunset.”

“No, I was never given a proper naming ceremony.”

“You may elect to choose a surname for yourself or leave your name as it is.”

“I…” Sunset’s mind raced. Name herself? What would she—

“Time’s up. For now, you will have no Surname. Should you wish to change this status you will report it to your Squad Leader and they will pass it up the chain to ensure your name is updated. Do you wish to continue your application?”

Sunset narrowed her eyes. He stared back with an unflinching gaze bordering on bored. “Yes.” Sunset caught herself. “Sir.”

“I, Admiral Mark Gleeson, accept you, Sunset, into the basic training program for the Planetary League Astrophysical Survey. Upon arrival to basic—assuming you pass the aptitude test—you will be assigned the rank of Cadet and report to your drill instructor for squad assignments. Questions?”

“Aptitude test? What is that?”

“Any naval officer can provide further information about preparation for the test. You have seven days from your current location to ready yourself.” Gleeson turned to address Captain Williams. “You are authorized to provide Sunset with a pair of Smart Bands restricted to educational purposes.”

“Copy, sir.”

“Good.” The general returned to face Sunset. “Welcome aboard, Sunset. Admiral Gleeson, out.”

The video blinked away and Sunset exhaled and crumpled into the chair. Captain Williams strode to the side of her wall and pressed on a panel that lit up and slid out. She extracted a pair of cuffs and approached Sunset. She handed the bands to her, but Sunset recoiled out of instinct. Though she may accept technology more than her mother did, she still did not trust it. Sunset swallowed her superstition and offered her arms. Captain Williams slid them on and they adjusted themselves to fit over her wrists and forearms. Sunset flattened her ears and the muscles in her back cramped as she fought the urge to pull them away. She expected the devices to weigh her arms down, but to her delighted surprise, she barely registered their weight.

“Captain Williams, authorization code C-V-3-4-1-B.”

Sunset felt a tingle work all the way up her arms and a voice sounded in her ear. “User registered for Preparatory Education.” She shrieked and slammed her hand into her head. She scrambled away against the wall, upending her chair in process.

“Wait, it’s all right!” Captain Williams pleaded with her hands raised. Sunset replied with a rapid-fire string of curses, growls, and clicks as she sprang to her feet. “It’s okay, that’s how the bands keep your communication private. I can’t hear what it says. It uses the body’s ability to transfer energy by causing low grade vibrations into your ear. It’s not anything else. It’s just technology.”

“Perhaps my kind were wise to abandon it,” Sunset replied through bared teeth and wild arm movements.

“The enhanced learning modules haven’t been calibrated for Ki’Tak consciousness, and it won’t be until you as a people agree to let us scan your brains. With your help, we can enhance the experience—”

“I don’t even want to know what that is. These are invasion enough.” Sunset growled and scratched at the bands on her wrists. She grumbled a muffled curse and sat back down.

“A fair point.” Captain Williams crossed her arms and leaned against her desk. “In the coming weeks, Sunset, you’ll be faced with a number of challenges and technology you’ve not come across before. It’s going to be a long and hard road, but I have every ounce of confidence that you will excel. Entrance to the Scout program is contingent on your score throughout Basic. After we finish here, you’ll rejoin Agent Berkely on their ship and travel to a new system.”

“Will I be able to return?”

“You may request a particular station, but I am afraid that decision will be left to Command. I will put in a request to have you stationed aboard my ship. The Defendrons will be in need of their guardian and I suspect we have a long way to go before the conflict on Takarra is over.”

Pinpricks crawled across her back. Travel further into the heavens? Doubt drew a veil down over Sunset’s determination. Was it right for her to leave for such a distance? How would her mother react?

As though she read her mind, she asked, “Would you like a chance to say goodbye to your mother?”

Sunset nodded. Captain Williams made a hand gesture and the door opened. She straightened her posture and offered Sunset a salute. Sunset stood and returned the gesture in awkward fashion. Captain Williams beamed as Sunset left.

She navigated the hallways of the ship with her mind in daze until she reached the quarters that she and her mother shared. When she entered, a small arrangement of flowers greeted her from the table in the middle of the room. Sunset cooed a sigh of relief at the increased humidity. Her mother sat in front of a steaming mug of tea. This time, Sunset recognized the scent. How did they get the plants up? She shook away the thought. That was a concern for another day. She took the seat across from her mother. The biting scent of the of sea carried over from the plants floating in the hot water riled up memories Sunset would have rather left behind. Memories of her parents’ playing chittering replayed themselves unbidden, and a heaviness pulled her shoulders and gaze down to the hands folded in her lap.

“Are you leaving?” her mother asked. Sunset didn’t dare say anything, but nodded all the same. A slow trembling sigh rolled across the table as her mother gripped her mug and took a sip. “Why?”

“I don’t belong here with the others.”

“What about me?”

“What about you?” Sunset retorted with a snort. “You can always go back to the Ki’Tak. You’ll have an entire community, but not while I’m still here. They tolerate me even less than they tolerate the technology. If I leave, you—”

“Will lose the last connection to your father I have,” Temerity hissed. “He has been gone barely a week, or a few days—depths below, I can’t tell how time works anymore. All I know is that your face reminds me of him. I gave up my community, my people, for him… and for you. Without being able to look at you, all I’ll see is the blood—”

She stood and whirled away from Sunset. Her body shook and Sunset sat frozen in her chair. Shame paralyzed her vocal cords and guilt’s cold touch crept down her face and neck. How could she have been so callous? After a few moments, Temerity wiped at her face and turned back around to retake her place at the table.

“I’m sorry, my heart.” She hadn’t called Sunset that since she was a child. Her father didn’t approve of soft words once she could wield his spear. “My sacrifices are not meant to be your burden. I know you do not have a people here, yet. Not among the Ki’Tak, so—”

“I’ll come back. I promise.”

Temerity slid her chair to sit next to Sunset and rested her hand on her daughter’s leg. Sunset shifted herself to lean against her mother’s arm and laid her head atop her shoulder.

“I know you will. We wanted better for you, and I have to remind myself that my sacrifices were meant to better your life. Not mine. Go. I will wait here to see what you have grown to be.” Sunset couldn’t hold the flood of emotions back any longer, and for the second time in as many days, cried with her mother. When her body had shaken loose her sobs, Sunset stood and offered a curt goodbye. Better to rip the bandage than let the fresh would fester.

She found Agent Berkley in the hangar, waiting for her at the shuttle. The Defendrons stayed in their corner out of the way of the bustle. Ana beeped a greeting to her, and Sunset told Agent Berkley to wait a moment. She updated the Defendrons on her plans and gave them an estimated timeline. She had no idea if it was at all accurate. Ana agreed it a wise choice and assured her they would remain on the ship should their assistance be needed with the events on the surface. Once finished, Sunset returned to Agent Berkley and followed them onto the shuttle.

As they glided out into space, her gaze followed the swirling wisps of clouds floating across the sky and then narrowed to the earth below. She traced the outline of the grounds she knew with her fingertip against the glass. It had seemed so vast, yet now she could fit her old world into a few swipes of her finger.

She settled back as the ground became obscured with distance, and tried in vain to capture the enormity of space itself before her. Its infinite possibilities yawned before her within that glittering black tapestry. A fluttering sensation grew in her chest and spread to her stomach. Was it excitement? Sadness? A mixture of both? She couldn’t be sure, but she knew whatever waited ahead was only the tip of the spear.

The Sunset Chronicles Part 6: Morning part 2

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To the extent possible under law, Victor Arteaga has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to The Sunset Chronicles. This work is published from: United States.

Mystery of the Million Suns

Mystery of the Million Suns
Jordan Grigg

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To the extent possible under law, Jordan Grigg has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to Mystery of the Million Suns. This work is published from: United States.