Rebellion in the Shadows

The first day at the Space Academy wasn’t what I was expecting. Bright and early that morning, I had been yanked from my comfortable bed and shoved onto a passenger drone. That was the day I was reporting to the Flying Force Space Academy. It was supposed to happen at zero-nine, after my coffee, my morning walk, and my shower. They had arrived at my tiny house at zero-five, to the terror of my father and pets. From the start, it was clear this wasn’t going to be another boring day of government training.

Four other Reconists sat on the drone with me, most of them as upset and confused as I was. We were surrounded by intense Privy Masters. Their unblinking silent stares as unsettling as their surprise pick up.

“Is there coffee?” I asked the one closest to me with a yawn.

“No.” He didn’t look at me.

My head jerked back. “And you think that’s safe?” He didn’t answer, so I turned away. Thousands of feet below us, the forest zoomed past. My house was the last stop. I was lucky. The scared girl near the front had to have been picked up hours ago, from clear across the planet. Her thick coat and dark hair were more telling than any of the humorless Privy Masters. She was from Attle at 122 East, a true northerner if I have ever seen one.

There was only one man on board that looked grumpier than me. The plethora of deep scars across his left cheek accentuated his scowl. Fifteen minutes into the flight, he pulled his uniform hat over his eyes and fell asleep. Couldn’t blame him. The constant drum of the two giant blades overhead soothed me as much as the next girl.

In this giant Condor-99, it only took forty-five minutes to fly from where I lived in the mountains of Boulder at 105E, to the World Flying Force Headquarters that would be my home for the next six months. The “choice” of leaving the regular ranks for specialized training was forced on me. They had laid it out: go to the Flying Force Space Academy or quit flying.

I had been piloting drones and cargo planes around the world for years. It was my one passion. Women rarely wanted to fly, but it was in my blood. I belonged in the sky. So here I was, regretting the decision before I even started training. Over the last year, my flight record had gotten me a lot of attention. That didn’t seem to matter at all with the new Privy Masters. Not one person had called me by name, only by rank, and every attempt to speak was stifled.

The person in charge of everything was especially short with me. Everything out of his mouth sounded like a bark. Privy Master Prime Santeeg, with his scruff and wrinkled uniform you would have thought he’d be more relaxed about the rules.

“Reconist, sit!” He pointed to a chair. I recognized the old EvenCut 4040 behind him. The same model from basic training with sharp spinning blades on top that didn’t look particularly inviting.

“Can’t we at least talk about this?” I asked, knowing they wouldn’t listen. Privy Masters never deterred from their orders.

“No talking,” Santeeg said, as I sat down. The Admin Coordinator set the top of the machine over my head. It whirred to life and started to cut inches off my bright blonde hair. My eyes shut when I saw the pile of golden locks in a heap on the floor.

“You could at least make it even,” I mumbled.

“Quiet Reconist!” Another grumpy Privy Master near the front of the dim room was looking over with a glare. When Santeeg walked past a few seconds later, the Coordinator bumped the machine in an effort to stay out of his way. The spinning blades that were cutting my hair jabbed into my ear.

The young Coordinator swore as he lifted the top off my head.

“Are you kidding me?!” I touched at my ear. Fresh blood dotted my fingertips. The harsh light cast a shadow over the Coordinator’s face, making his regret more obvious. My anger turned to pity when I saw his bloodless face. Before I could tell him to relax, my wrist calcumat started to flash red. I silenced the alarm as a Medical Corpsman came forward.

“Your calcumat has alerted me to a level one injury, it will require two minutes to heal,” the tiny man said. He unloaded his bag in front of me and laid out an assortment of supplies on the ground. With expert precision, he selected the correct tools. The medical stench of numbing gel mixed with the smell of cauterizing skin made my stomach turn but it was nothing compared to what the Coordinator was subject to. He stood in front of me, surrounded by livid Privy Masters.

“What the hell is wrong with you? You never clip hair before?” Santeeg was the closest to his face and screamed until he was purple.

The Coordinator stared at the floor. The poor kid’s face was white, and his lips quivered as much as his hands shook.

“Next time you clip a Reconists hair, if they bleed, you bleed!” Santeeg stood aside as another even taller Privy Master added, “You get that?”

I jumped out of the chair. “Lay off, would you? It was an accident. The gods alive, you would think none of you had ever been a Coordinator before,” I said. The Privy Masters turned their attention to me. My words had made them forget all about the abused Coordinator. Santeeg stepped forward his arms crossed and his head tilted.

“Am I a Coordinator now? No, I am your Privy Master. One more outburst like that and you will get extra PT for a month. Now shut your mouth, sit down, and finish your haircut.” He towered over me like he expected something.

“Yeah, I got it,” I said. When he frowned at me, I added, “Privy Master,” with a half sarcastic salute. His mouth widened into a smile, victory written in his smug expression.

What I wouldn’t give to wipe that look off his face, but he was above me. That meant buttoning my lip and keeping all insults to myself.

After the thrill of an unwanted haircut, I stood at attention for hours while they assigned me my new uniforms, quarters, and gave me my training schedule. All before zero-nine. At zero-nine-fifteen, my exhausted butt plopped into the desk at my first class. It was only a few minutes before I was as irritated with it as I had been all morning.

“What is the angle of exit when launching from latitude 32? Reconist?” The instructor looked at me.

“Erm, was this in the reading, I haven’t had-”

“You just thought you had better things to do than prepare for your first day?”

“No, I didn’t receive the material, Privy Master.” I looked around the room but no one was eager to help me out.

“It was delivered to your calcumat via digicomm three weeks ago.”

Shit.

“Oh, that reading material. I will make sure to-”

“Since our little celebrity doesn’t know, anyone else want to answer?” Several hands shot up and I slumped deeper into my small desk. Celebrity? That embarrassed me more than being ripped from my bed in my underwear at zero-five by six strangers.

Someone grabbed my arm as I walked out from my disastrous first class.

“Talaya you are required by the Master Guardian,” he said.

“The Master Guardian? Why?” I asked him. When I didn’t move, he yelled out, “NOW, Reconist,”

Meeting the leader of the planet on the first day was not a good sign. My calcumat gave me directions, a green arrow projected down onto the white tile to show the way.

The lack of decoration in the halls was upsetting. No plants, no chairs, not even decorative table with Flying Force paraphernalia. Only a terrifying portrait of our fearless leader around every curve.

Nothing about his picture itself was scary. His hair was shaved on both sides with bun on top and he wore the normal boring brown uniform. That wasn’t the issue, his eyes were the problem. They were always open just a little too wide in every photo I had ever seen of him. It was enough to make me want to avoid him at all costs.

Yet, here I was, on my way for a little chat with Mr. Crazy-Eyes himself on the very first day.

“You lost Reconist?” A man had popped up beside me snaking on a bag full of dried fruit. He had caught me off guard, so I picked up the pace. He matched my gait and we continued down the hall together.

“No, just trying not to get sick over this smell,” I said. My eyes darted to his nametape. No surprise there, another Privy Master, this one named Arwago. He ignored my clumsy salute.

“What smell is that? Can’t be anything bad, they flush these floors nightly,” he said.

“It smells like a hospital.”

“You will get used to it. Trust me, you’ll get used to everything here,” he said.

“Will I even have time to care? This schedule is intense, and I have to fill every dull moment with saluting Privy Masters.” He laughed, an eerie sound that bounced off the empty walls all around us.

A Privy Master walking the opposite way we were stopped next to us.

“Enough laughing and chit chat! Shouldn’t you be at training?” he asked.

“Relax buddy, it’s authorized chit chat,” Arwago told him. I looked at the man that was being so sociable. His olive skin perfectly complimented his brown hair and eyes. He offered me a slice of fruit. When I declined, he tossed it into his mouth.

“Why is everyone so uptight?” I asked. He shrugged.

“Can’t help you there. Better get a move on though. Master Guardian doesn’t like to wait.” He left me alone in the hall to wonder who the hell he was and how in the world he knew where I was going.

The directions pointed to a blank wall, no name display or code panel at all. I spun in a slow circle, looking for anyone to help me out. When I turned back around, the white wall dipped forward an inch, then slid into itself on the left side to expose a chamber. I turned off my directions, tried to smooth my annoying new haircut, and walked in.

Like the hallways, there was nothing on the curved walls inside. The darkness in the chamber was exaggerated by the lack of windows. The only light came from outside the open door behind me casting long shadows along both sides of the doorway. The air smelled stale, like an old dusty attic on a hot summer’s day. It didn’t seem like a place for the leader of the planet. There wasn’t even any tile or carpet on the floor, just rough concrete.

A single unoccupied chair caught my attention before I saw him. Master Guardian stood silent on the far side of the room, next to a simple metal desk. I tried to push aside the jolt of panic that sent my arm buzzing. The calcumat was warning me that my heart rate was too high.

“Master Guardian, someone told me to meet you here,” I said, giving him a dramatic salute.

Eye contact is forbidden with Master Guardian, so I stared at the ground. He was looking right at me. I could feel it. Like two lasers burning into the top of my head.

“Talaya, sit.” He stood as still as a statue in the darkness.

“Yes, Master Guardian.” I moved to the chair. Master Guardian moved too. His footsteps were the only sound in the room. I shivered and goosebumps covered my arms.

When I sat, the door closed, blocking what little light had been in the room. As my eyes tried to adjust, I realized I couldn’t move. Fear dropped into my stomach like a crashing drone.

“Um, Master Guardian? Is this… normal?” I asked. It wouldn’t be good if I panicked in front of someone so important. Whenever I did, it tended to involve a lot of swearing.

“Relax,” he said.

It felt as though a million pieces of string stretched over me from head to toe, each unseen strand moving over me like a silent wave, cementing me in place. Lights as bright as Tau Ceti clicked on overhead. I couldn’t see anything at all, it was like being on stage under a million-watt spotlight. Something was scanning me.

“Is everything OK?” I asked. This didn’t seem normal at all. My heart pounded. The room and everything about it had my nerves on end.

“Do you know why you are here Talaya?” he asked. The way his tongue snapped over my name made my skin crawl.

“No, Master Guardian.”

“Please. Talaya, call me by my name” he said.

“Yes, Sidarc.” It sounded wrong, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.

“Can you try to guess why you are here?”

“I assume to be punished; I must have done something wrong,” I said.

Sidarc sighed, a heavy sound in the empty space. I knew he was beyond irritated. Problem was, I still didn’t have any idea why. His footsteps echoed through the circular room, getting louder until he stood right next to me. I stole the briefest of glances up at his face.

His arm shot out like lightning, his fingers tightened around my face. My cheeks throbbed against his powerful grip. I closed my eyes. He leaned over until I could feel his hot breath on my forehead.

“Open your eyes.” Each word hissed through his clenched teeth.

Even though I didn’t want to, I opened one. Commands from Master Guardian didn’t get ignored, no matter his intentions. His dark brown eyes stared at me through slits.

“Don’t move, don’t speak, don’t even think.” His face shook inches away from mine. Spit flew from his mouth, sprinkling my face with microscopic drops of coffee-smelling saliva. He let his words sink in before he released my face. One deep breath later, he stood up straight. A small smile played on his lips. He was enjoying the display of power and my fear.

“Talaya, we have advanced beyond any one person’s understanding. Our people came from a single star system millions of miles away, thousands of years ago. That planet was destroyed by the people that ran it while ours has flourished beyond any hopes we had. This sense of security is necessary for the world to maintain peace. Do you understand this?”

Afraid to speak, I nodded. Sidarc was trying to scare me. Deep down it was working, but on the surface, I tried not to let it show.

“Do you know how we choose Reconists?” he asked.

“They have told me it is through observation and school tests,” I answered.

“Yes, of course,” He was waving his hand. “But what are the qualities we look for?” The answer he wanted didn’t come to mind.

I ended up blurting out, “Bravery?”

He stopped walking. With another sigh, he drew his arms across his chest.

“No Talaya, it isn’t ‘bravery.’ It is something that cannot be taught, it is something that you are born with. A unique quality we have been searching a long time for,” he said.

“So, its magic then?” I said. As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew they were a mistake. In one quick move, he was beside me, my face back in his grasp. My cheeks were almost touching inside my mouth. I lowered my eyes and stuck out my chin. If he wanted to hurt me for a little joke, so be it.

“No. It’s not magic, you sarcastic little pain in the ass,” he whispered. His eyes searched me, as if he could find that special thing on my face.

He let go. Some of his hair had fallen out of the tie on the back of his head. He wiped it back into place and straightened his bun. The slow movements steadied his breathing before he started talking again.

“Each person has a select quality that we see and require. You have just shown yours. However, the Privy Masters have told me that this quality is absent in your training, which is not good for you and not good for me. You can’t get through the Space Academy on raw talent or skill. No, this isn’t going to be like basic training or Reconist school. You will learn respect,” he said with a smile. “More than that, you will be held to a higher standard.”

“Why? Is it because of that thing with the Condor-99? Look, I told them when it happened, it was luck more than anything else.”

“It wasn’t luck. It was instinct and skill.” He wasn’t looking at me anymore. His fingers were typing away on the virtual keyboard hovering above his metal desk.

My wrist beeped. A file had been sent to me.

“Open it,” he ordered. I threw the file onto the nearest wall. It was my dossier. Sidarc walked to the display. He scrolled through the many pages of my career.

“The qualities we desire are rare. Yours stand alone among our entire race. They make you valuable. More so than I would like to admit. Our computers are advanced enough to predict the best outcome using algorithms that even I can’t understand. Equations and variables of personality, genetics and history determined the best person for the job.” Sidarc zoomed into a single line then highlighted it. “So, I have complete confidence in this determination. It may be in five years, it may be in fifty, but you will become the next Master Guardian.”

I sat there, gaping at the highlighted line

Selected for Master Guardian.

There was no need for the electric current anymore. The gods themselves couldn’t have moved me from that spot. I looked from the wall to Master Guardian again and again. Sidarc’s face was stuck in a grin that was more upsetting than his scowl. His lips stretched over perfect teeth. Up this close it was obvious they were fake.

He stepped back over to his desk and said, “The Command Central Computer is almost clairvoyant, and it has told us some disturbing things about the future. The development of the space exploration program has become necessary for the well-being of our planet. Our people aren’t ready, except maybe you.”

“I don’t want that job! Is it even possible?! I mean, how am I supposed to become Master Guardian, I am dozens of ranks from even being close, I have never-”

“That’s enough! I have things to do and I’m not interested in babysitting my successor. Someone else will help with the details. Give it your best or end up back here. You are excused.” The lights went off and the door to the chamber appeared. My wrist beeped that I was late for Orbital Training. I walked out of the room certain there had been a mistake.

A Privy Master was waiting for me just outside the door. Black hair bobbed just below her tiny shoulders. She pounced at me as I left.

“Talaya Hatawti?” she asked.

“What?” The news had stunned me. Nothing made sense, not even my own name on a strangers lips.

“So, you are Talaya? Excellent! I am Notawa and I have been assigned to you.” Her voice was so high, it sounded like the twitter of one of the tiny gross tasting bitter-birds.

“I’m sorry, assigned? For what exactly?”

“As your mentor! I’m supposed to show you the ropes, so to speak,” she said.

“Aren’t you a Privy Master? Isn’t this all a little below your paygrade?”

“Not at all! They promoted you to Prime Reconist, didn’t you get the alert a minute ago?”

“No, what alert? What was your name again?”

“It’s Notawa. Wasn’t that what your meeting with Master Guardian was? To get promoted?” she asked.

“No.” She was a few steps behind me when I turned around. That was inevitable with her short legs. An Administration rate by the looks of her, someone that pushed papers rather than flew planes or drones.

My picture was above her wrist hologram. It was the one from my dossier, but it was covered in her notes. She swiped it away when she spotted me looking at it. Before I got the chance to ask about it, my wrist rang with an All-Hands comm. Notawa and several others in the hall all opened the same message.

“Orbital training session is canceled, please report to Physical Conditioning.” The message rang out around me, ending at different times.

I looked over at my mentor. Her cheeks perked up into a smile. “Better head that way, don’t want to upset anyone on the first day.”

My fingers touched the tender skin where he had grabbed my face. No, I didn’t want to meet with him again anytime soon. Notawa jogged along behind me like a lost burla, adding another layer of absurdity to an already insane day. The whole thing seemed like a cruel prank, and it was only midmorning.