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Chapter Five-
Bernie Kosar is scratching at my bedroom door when I wake. I let him outside. He patrols the yard, rushing along with his nose to the ground. Once he's covered all four corners he bolts across the yard and disappears into the woods. I close the door and jump into the shower. I walk out ten minutes later and he's back inside, sitting on the couch. His tail wags when he sees me.
"You let him in?" I ask Henri, who is at the kitchen table with his laptop open and four newspapers stacked in front of him.
"Yes."
After a quick breakfast, we head out. Bernie Kosar rushes ahead of us, then stops and sits looking up at the passenger door of the truck.
"Apparently he's no stranger to car rides. Let him in."
I open the door and he jumps in. He sits in the middle seat with his tongue dangling. When we pull out of the driveway he moves into my lap and paws at the window. I roll it down and he sticks half his body out, mouth still open, the wind flapping his ears. Three miles later Henri pulls into the school. I open the door and Bernie Kosar jumps out ahead of me. I lift him back into the truck but he jumps right back out. I lift him back in again and have to block him from jumping out while I close the truck door. He stands on his hind legs with his front paws on the ledge of the door, the window still down. I pat him on the head.
"Have your gloves?" Henri asks.
"Yep."
"Phone?"
"Yep."
"How do you feel?"
"I feel good," I say.
"Okay. Call me if you have any sort of trouble."
He pulls away and Bernie Kosar watches from the back window until the truck disappears around the turn. I feel a similar nervousness as I did the day before, but for different reasons. Part of me wants to see Sarah right away, though part of me hopes that I don't see her at all. I'm not sure what I'll say to her. What if I can't think of anything at all and stand there looking foolish? What if she's with Mark when I see her? Should I acknowledge her and risk another confrontation, or just walk by and pretend that I don't see either of them? At the very least I'll see them both in second period. There's no getting around that. I head to my locker. My bag is filled with books I was supposed to read the night before but never opened. Too many thoughts and images running through my head. They haven't gone away and it's hard to imagine they ever will. It was all so different from what I expected. Death isn't like what they show you in the movies. The sounds, the looks, the smells. So different. At my locker, I notice immediately that something's off. The metal handle is covered with dirt, or what looks like dirt. I'm not sure if I should open it, but then I take a deep breath and force the handle up. The locker is half-filled with manure and as I swing the door open, much of it comes pouring out onto the floor, I manage to jump back before it ends up covering my shoes. The smell is horrendous. I slam the door shut. Sam Goode was standing behind it and his sudden appearance from out of nowhere startles me. He is looking forlorn, wearing a white NASA T-shirt only slightly different from the one he wore yesterday.
"Hi, Sam," I say.
He looks down at the pile of manure on the floor, then back at me.
"You, too?" I ask. He nods.
"I'm going to the principal's office. Do you want to come?" He shakes his head, then turns and walks away without saying a word.
I walk to Mr. Harris's office, knock on his door, then enter without waiting for his reply. He is sitting behind his desk, wearing a tie that is tiled with the school mascot, no less than twenty tiny pirate heads scattered across the front of it. He smiles proudly at me.
"It's a big day, John," he says.
I don't know what he is talking about.
"The reporters from the Gazette should be here within the hour. Frontpage!"
Then I remember Mark James's big interview with the local paper.
"You must be very proud," I say.
"I'm proud of each and every one of Paradise's students." The smile doesn't leave his face. He leans back in his chair, locks his fingers together, and rests his hands on his stomach. "What can I do for you?"
"I just wanted to let you know that my locker was filled with manure this morning."
"What do you mean 'filled'?"
"I mean the whole thing was full of manure."
"With manure?" he asks confusedly.
"Yes." He laughs.
I'm taken aback by his total lack of regard, and anger surges through me. My face is warm.
"I wanted to let you know so it could be cleaned. Sam Goode's locker is filled with it, too."
He sighs and shakes his head. "I'll send Mr. Hobbs, the janitor, down immediately and we'll make a full investigation."
"We both know who did it, Mr. Harris."
He flashes a patronizing grin at me. "I'll handle the investigation, Mr. Smith."
There's no point in saying anything further, so I walk out of his office and head to the bathroom to run cold water over my hands and face. I have to calm down. Maybe I should do nothing at all, just let it slide. Will that end it? And besides, what other choice is there? I'm outmatched and my only ally is a hundred-pound sophomore with a penchant for the extraterrestrial. Maybe that isn't the whole truth—maybe I have another ally in Sarah Hart.
I look down. My hands are fine, no glow. I walk out of the bathroom. The janitor is already sweeping the manure from my locker, lifting out books, and placing them in the trash. I walk past him and into the classroom and wait for class to start. Rules of grammar are discussed, the main topic being the difference between a gerund and a verb, and why a gerund is not a verb. I pay closer attention than I did the day before, but as the end of the period nears I start to get nervous about the next class. But not because I might see Mark…because I might see Sarah. Will she smile at me again today? I think it'll be best to arrive before she does so I can find my seat and watch her walk in. That way I can see if she says hello to me first.
When the bell rings, I dash out of class and rush down the hall. I'm the first one to enter astronomy. The classroom fills and Sam sits beside me again. Just before the bell rings Sarah and Mark enter together. She's dressed in a white button-up shirt and black pants. She smiles at me before sitting down. I smile back. Mark doesn't look my way at all. I can still smell the manure on Sam's shoes.
He pulls a pamphlet from his bag with the title They Walk Among Us on the cover. It looks as though it was printed in somebody's basement. Sam flips to an article in the center and starts reading intently.
I look at Sarah a couple feet to my right, I can see the nape of her slender neck. She crosses her legs and sits straight in her chair. I wish I were sitting beside her, that I could reach over and take her hand in mine. I wish it were sixth period already. I wonder if I'll be her partner in home ec again.
Mrs. Burton begins lecturing. She's still on the topic of Saturn. Sam takes out a sheet of paper and begins scribbling wildly, pausing at times to consult an article in the magazine he has opened beside him. I look over his shoulder and read the title: "Entire Montana Town Abducted by Aliens."
Before last night I would have never pondered such a theory. But Henri believes the Mogadorians are plotting to take over Earth, and I must admit, even though the theory in Sam's publication is ludicrous, at its most basic level there might be something there. I know for a fact that the Loric has visited Earth many times over the life of this planet. We watched Earth develop, watched it through the times of growth and abundance when everything moved, and through the times of ice and snow when nothing did. We helped the humans, taught them to make fire, gave them the tools to develop speech and language, which is why our language is so similar to the languages of Earth. And even though we never abducted humans, that doesn't mean it's never been done. I look at Sam. I've never met somebody with a fascination in aliens to the point of reading and taking notes on conspiracy theories.
Just then the door opens and Mr. Harris sticks his smiling face in.
"Sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Burton. I'm going to have to snag Mark from you. The Gazette reporters are here to interview him for the paper," he says loudly enough so everyone in the class can hear.
Mark stands, grabs his bag, and casually strolls out of the room. From the doorway I see Mr. Harris pat him on the back. Then I look back at Sarah, wishing I could sit in the empty seat beside her.
XXXXXXXX
Fourth period is physical education. Sam is in my class. After changing we sit beside each other on the gymnasium floor. He is wearing tennis shoes, shorts, a T-shirt two or three sizes too large. He looks like a stork, all knees and elbows, somewhat lanky even though he's short. The gym teacher, Mr. Wallace, stands firmly in front of us, his feet shoulder-width apart, his hands clenched into fists on his hips.
"All right, guys, listen up. This is probably the last chance we'll get to work outdoors, so make it count. One-mile run, as hard as you can. Your times will be noted and saved for when we run the mile again in the spring. So run hard!"
The outside track is made of synthetic rubber. It circles around the football field, and beyond it are some woods that I imagine might lead to our house, but I'm not sure. The wind is cool and goosebumps traverse the length of Sam's arms. He tries to rub them away.
"Have you run this before?" I ask.
Sam nods. "We ran it the second week of class."
"What was your time?"
"Nine minutes and fifty-four seconds."
I look at him. "I thought skinny kids are supposed to be fast."
"Shut up," he says.
I run side by side with Sam towards the back of the crowd. Halfway around I begin to pull away from Sam. I wonder how fast I could run a mile if I really tried. Maybe one minute, maybe less?
The exercise feels great, and without paying much attention, I pass the lead runner. Then I slow and feign exhaustion. When I do I see a brown and black blur come dashing out of the bushes by the entrance of the grandstand and head straight towards me. My mind is playing tricks on me, I think. I look away and keep running. I pass the teacher. He is holding a stopwatch. He yells words of encouragement but he is looking behind me, away from the track. I follow his eyes. They are fixated on the brown and white blur. It is still coming straight for me and all at once the images from the day before come rushing back. The Mogadorian beasts. There were small ones too, with teeth that glinted in the light like razor blades, fast creatures intent on killing. It looks a little too big though to be them I start sprinting anyways.
I run halfway around the track in as close to a dead sprint as I'm willing without appearing superhuman before I turn back around. There is nothing behind me. I have outrun it. Twenty seconds have passed. Then I turn back around and the thing is right in front of me. It must have cut across the field. I stop dead in my tracks and my perspective corrects itself.
It's Bernie Kosar! He's sitting in the middle of the track with his tongue dangling, tail wagging.
"Bernie Kosar!" I yell. "You scared the hell out of me!"
I resume running at a slow pace and Bernie Kosar runs alongside me. I hope nobody noticed how fast I ran. Then I stop and bend over as though I have cramps and can't catch my breath. I walk for a bit. Then I jog a little. Just as I finish the second lap two people have passed me.
"Smith! What happened? You were dusting everyone!" Mr. Wallace yells when I run by him.
I breathe heavily, for show. "I—have—asthma," I say.
He shakes his head in disapproval. "And here I thought I had this year's Ohio state track champion in my class."
I shrug and keep going, stopping every so often to walk. Bernie Kosar stays with me, sometimes walking, sometimes trotting. When I'm passing the halfway point on the last lap Sam catches up to me and we run together. His face is bright red.
"So what were you reading in astronomy today?" I ask. "An entire Montana town abducted by aliens?"
He grins at me. "Yeah, that's the theory," he says somewhat shyly, as though embarrassed.
"Why would an entire town be abducted?" Sam shrugs, doesn't answer. "No, really?" I ask.
"Do you really want to know?"
"Of course."
"Well, the theory is that the government has been allowing alien abductions in exchange for technology."
"Really? What kind of technology?" I ask.
"Like chips for supercomputers and formulas for more bombs and green technologies. Stuff like that."
"Green technology for live specimens? Weird. Why do aliens want to abduct humans?"
"So they can study us."
"But why? I mean, what reason could they possibly have?"
"So that when Armageddon comes they'll know our weaknesses and be able to easily defeat us by exposing them."
I'm kind of taken aback by his answer, but only because of the scenes still playing in my head from the night before, remembering the weapons I saw the Mogadorians use, and the massive beasts.
"Wouldn't it be easy for them if they already have bombs and technologies far superior to our own?"
"Well, some people seem to think that they're hoping we'll kill ourselves first."
I look at Sam. He is smiling at me, trying to decide whether I'm taking the conversation seriously.
"Why would they want us to kill ourselves first? What is their incentive?"
"Because they're jealous."
"Jealous of us? Why, because of our rugged good looks?"
Sam laughs. "Something like that."
I nod. We run in silence for a minute and I can tell Sam is having a tough time, breathing heavily.
"How did you get interested in all this?"
He shrugs. "It's just a hobby," he says, though I get the distinct feeling that he's keeping something from me.
We finish the mile myself at 7 min and Sam at eight minutes fifty-nine seconds, better than the last time Sam ran it. Bernie Kosar follows the class back to the school. The others pet him, and when we walk in he tries to come in with us. I don't know how he knew where I was. Could he have memorized the way to the school this morning on the ride in? The thought seems ridiculous. He stays at the door. I walk to the locker room with Sam and the second he catches his breath he rattles off a ton of other conspiracy theories, one right after another, most of which are laughable. I like him and find him amusing, but sometimes I wish he would stop talking.
XXXXXXXX
When home ec begins Sarah isn't in class. Mrs. Benshoff gives instruction for the first ten minutes and then we head to the kitchen. I enter the station alone, resigned to the fact that I'll be cooking alone today, and as soon as that thought occurs to me, Sarah walks in.
"Did I miss anything good?" she asks.
"About ten minutes of quality time with me," I say with a smile.
She laughs. "I heard about your locker this morning. I'm sorry."
"You put the manure there?" I ask.
She laughs again. "No, of course not. But I know they're picking on you because of me."
"They're just lucky I didn't use my superpowers and throw them into the next county."
She playfully grabs my biceps but pauses in shock before squeezing them again. "Oh wow, I was expecting some muscles but you're actually decently buff under all these baggy clothes. Boy, they are lucky."
I can see the surprise on her face when she does grab my arm. I have years of honing my skills and trying to be the strongest I can possibly be.
Our project for the day is to make blueberry cupcakes. As we start mixing the batter, Sarah begins telling me about her history with Mark. They dated for two years, but the longer they were together, the more she drifted from her parents and her friends. She was Mark's girlfriend, nothing else. She knew she had started to change, to adopt some of his attitudes towards people: being mean and judgmental, thinking she was better than them. She also started drinking and her grades slipped. At the end of the last school year, her parents sent her to live with her aunt in Colorado for the summer. When she got there, she started taking long hikes in the mountains, taking pictures of the scenery with her aunt's camera. She fell in love with photography and had the best summer ever, realizing there was far more to life than being a cheerleader and dating the quarterback of the football team. When she got home she broke up with Mark and quit cheerleading, and made a vow that she was going to be good, and kind, to everyone. Mark hasn't gotten over it. She says he still considers her his girlfriend and believes she's going to come back to him. She says the only thing she misses about him are his dogs, which she hung out with whenever she was at his house. I then tell her about Bernie Kosar, and how he showed up at our doorstep unexpectedly.
We work as we talk. As we're frosting the cupcakes, she asks if I left many friends. I tell her that I lost my old phone with all of my contacts, she asks if I left a girlfriend behind when we moved. I say no, and she smiles, which just about ruins me. Before class ends, she tells me about the upcoming Halloween festival in town and says she hopes to see me there, that maybe we can hang out. I say yeah, that would be great and pretend to be cool, even though I'm flying inside.
XXXXXXXX
Getting home that night after school Henri and I start to really buckle down on training up my lumen, he isn't sure what all it can do but he is sure that it is more than just heat immunity. We manage to get my arms fully accustomed before moving into my legs. After enough of that, I catch Henri up on what has been happening at school with Sarah, Mark, and especially with what I have learned about Sam.
"So you say Sam is a fanatic about aliens?" Henri asks when I tell him about Sam's theories.
"Yeah, I'm not sure if it's just a hobby or if it's because of his father disappearing but I'm sure that I'll be able to get more information from him soon."
We move on to my Telekinesis, we have managed to get my strength with it up to par with my physical strength which is resting at about 2 tons bench weight or roughly Henri's pickup. We are struggling a bit with my dexterity, I can manage catching things and moving them around well enough but I am struggling with wielding weapons and moving multiple small items at a time. Henri assures me that with practice I will continue to grow stronger and get better.
Images come to me, at random times, usually when I least expect them. Sometimes they are small and fleeting—my grandmother holding a glass of water and opening her mouth to say something—but I never know the words because the image vanishes as quickly as it came. Sometimes they are longer, more lifelike: my grandfather pushing me on a swing. I can feel the strength in his arms as he pushes me up, the butterflies in the pit of my stomach as I race down. My laughter carries on the wind. Then the image is gone. Sometimes I explicitly remember the images from my past, remember being a part of them. But sometimes they are as new to me as though they never happened before.
In the living room, with Henri running the Loric crystal up each of my arms and legs, I stand in a large metal tub, I see the following: I am young—three, maybe four—running through our front yard of newly clipped grass. Beside me is an animal with a body like a dog, but with a coat like a tiger. His head is round, his body barrel-chested atop short legs. Unlike any animal, I have ever seen. He crouches, poised to leap at me. I can't stop laughing. Then he jumps and I try to catch him but I'm too small and both of us fall to the grass. We wrestle. He is stronger than I am. Then he jumps in the air, and instead of falling back to the ground as I expect, he turns himself into a bird and flies up and around me, hovering just beyond my reach. He circles then comes down, shoots between my legs, lands twenty feet away. He changes into an animal that looks like a monkey without a tail. He crouches low to lunge at me.
Just then a man comes up the walk. He is young, dressed in a silver and blue rubber suit that is tight on his body, the kind of suit I've seen divers wear. He speaks to me in a language that I don't understand. He says the name "Hadley" and nods to the animal. Hadley runs over to him, his shape-changing from a monkey to something larger, something bearlike with a lion's mane. Their heads are level, and the man scratches Hadley beneath the chin. Then my grandfather comes out of the house. He looks young, but I know that he must be at least fifty.
He shakes hands with the man. They speak but I don't understand what they are saying. Then the man looks at me, smiles lifts his hand out, and all of a sudden I'm off the ground and flying through the air. Hadley follows, as a bird again. I'm in full control of my body, but the man controls where I go, moving his hand to the left or to the right. Hadley and I play in midair, him tickling me with his beak, me trying to get a grip on him. And then my eyes snap open and the image is gone.
"Your grandfather could make himself invisible at will," I hear Henri say, and I close my eyes again.
The crystal continues up my waist, spreading the fire repellent to the rest of my body. "One of the rarest Legacies there is, developing only in one percent of our people, and he was one of them. He could make himself and whatever he was touching completely disappear.
"There was one time he wanted to play a joke on me before I knew what his Legacies were. You were three years old and I had just started working with your family. I came to your house for the first time the day before, and as I came up the hill for my second day the house wasn't there. There was a driveway, and a car, and the tree, but no house. I thought I was losing my mind. I continued past it. Then when I knew I had gone too far I turned back and there, some distance away, was the house that I swore wasn't there before. So I started walking back, but when I came close enough the house again vanished. I just stood there looking at the spot where I knew it must be, but seeing only the trees beyond it. So I walked on. Only on my third time by did your grandfather make the house reappear for good. He couldn't stop laughing. We laughed about that day for the next year and a half, all the way till the very end."
When I open my eyes I am back on the battlefield. More explosions, fire, death.
"Your grandfather was a good man," Henri says. "He loved to make people laugh, loved to tell jokes. I don't think there was ever a time that I left your house without having a stomachache from laughing so hard."
The sky has turned red. A tree rips through the air, thrown by the man in silver and blue, the one I saw at the house. It takes out two of the Mogadorians and I want to cheer in victory. But what use is there in celebrating? No matter how many Mogadorians I see killed, the outcome of that day will not change. The Loric will still be defeated, every last one of them killed. I will still be sent to Earth.
"I never once saw the man get angry. When everyone else lost their temper, when stress encompassed them, your grandfather stayed calm. It was usually then that he would bring out his best jokes, and just like that everyone would be laughing again."
The small beasts target the children. They are defenseless, holding sparklers in their hands from the celebration. That is how we are losing—only a few of the Loric are fighting the beasts, and the rest are trying to save the children.
"Your grandmother was different. She was quiet and reserved, very intelligent. Your elders complemented each other that way, your grandfather the carefree one, your grandmother working behind the scenes so that everything went off as planned."
High in the sky, I can still see the trail of blue smoke from the airship carrying us to Earth, carrying us Nine and our Cêpan's. Its presence unnerves the Mogadorians.
"And then there was Julianne, my wife."
Far off in the distance, there is an explosion, this one like the kind that comes from the liftoff of Earth's rockets. Another ship rises in the air, a trail of fire behind it. Slowly at first, then building speed. I'm confused. Our ships didn't use fire for liftoff; they didn't use oil or gasoline. They emitted a small blue trail of smoke that came from the crystals used to power them, never fire like this one. The second ship is slow and clumsy compared to the first, but it makes it, rising through the air, gaining speed. Henri never mentioned a second ship. Who is on it? Where is it going? The Mogadorians shout and point at it. Again, it causes them anxiety, and for a brief moment the Loric surge.
"She had the greenest eyes I'd ever seen, bright green like emeralds, plus a heart as big as the planet itself. Always helping others, constantly bringing in animals and keeping them as pets. I'll never know what it was she saw in me."
The large beast has returned, the one with the red eyes and enormous horns. Drool mixed with blood falls from razor-sharp teeth so large they can't be contained within its mouth. The man in silver and blue is standing directly in front of it. He tries to lift the beast with his powers, and he gets it a few feet off the ground but then struggles and lifts no farther. The beast roars shakes and falls back to the ground. It forces ahead against the man's powers, but it can't break them. The man lifts it again. Sweat and blood glisten in the moonlight on his face. Then he doubles his hands over and the beast crashes to its side. The ground shakes. Thunder and lightning fill the sky but there's no rain to go with them.
"She was a late sleeper, and I always woke before she did. I would sit in the den and read the paper, make breakfast, go for a walk. Some mornings I would come back and she would still be sleeping. I was impatient, couldn't wait to start the day together. She made me feel good just to be around her. I would go in and try to rouse her. She would pull the covers over her head and growl at me. Almost every morning, always the same thing."
The beast flails but the man is still in control. Other Garde have joined in, every one of them using a power on the mammoth beast, fire and lightning raining down upon it, streaks of lasers coming from all directions. Some Garde are doing damage unseen, standing away from it, and holding their hands out in concentration. And then high up a collective storm brews, one major cloud growing and glowing in an otherwise cloudless sky, some sort of energy collecting within it. All Garde are in on it, all of them helping to create this cataclysmic haze. And then a final, massive bolt of lightning drops down and hits the beast where it lies. And there it dies.
"What could I do? What could anyone do? In total there were nineteen of us on that ship. You nine children and us nine Cêpan, chosen by no means other than where we happened to be that night, and the pilot who brought us here. We Cêpan couldn't fight, and what difference would it have made if we could? The Cêpan are bureaucrats, meant to keep the planet running, meant to teach, meant to train new Garde how to understand and manipulate their powers. We were never meant to be fighters. We would have been ineffective. We would have died like the rest. All we could do was leave. Leave with you to live and to one day restore to glory the most beautiful planet in all of the universe."
I close my eyes and when I reopen them the fight has ended. Smoke rises from the ground among the dead and the dying. Trees broken, the forests burned, nothing standing save the few Mogadorians that have lived to tell the tale. The sun rising to the south and a pale glow growing on the barren land bathed in red. Mounds of bodies, not all of them intact, not all of them whole. On top of one mound is the man in silver and blue, dead like the rest. There are no discernible marks on his body, but he is dead all the same.
My eyes snap open. I can't breathe, and my mouth is dry, parched.
"Here," Henri says. He helps me off the coffee table, guides me into the kitchen, and pulls out a chair for me. Tears are coming to my eyes though I try to blink them back. Henri brings me a glass of water and I drink every bit of it without stopping. I give him the glass and he refills it. I drop my head, still struggling to breathe. I drink the second glass, then look at Henri.
"Why didn't you ever tell me about a second ship?" I ask.
"What are you talking about?"
"There was a second ship," I say. "On Lorien, the day we left. A second ship that took off after ours."
"Impossible," he says.
"Why is it impossible?"
"Because the other ships were destroyed. I saw it with my own eyes. When the Mogadorians landed they took out our ports first. We traveled in the only ship that survived their offensive. It was a miracle that we made it off."
"I saw a second ship. I'm telling you. It wasn't like the others, though. It ran on fuel, a ball of fire following behind it."
Henri watches me closely. He is thinking hard, his brows crinkled.
"Are you sure, John?"
"Yes."
He leans back in his chair, looks out the window. Bernie Kosar is on the ground, staring up at us both.
"It made it off Lorien," I say. "I watched it the whole way until it disappeared."
"That makes no sense," Henri says. "I don't see how it could be possible. There was nothing left."
We sit in the living room, a fire in the hearth, Bernie Kosar in my lap. An occasional pop from the logs breaks the silence.
"On!" I say and snap my fingers. My right hand illuminates, brighter than I've seen it before. In the short amount of time since Henri started coaching me I've learned to control the glow. I can concentrate it, making it wide, like a bonfire at night, or narrow and focused, like a flashlight. My ability to manipulate it is coming more quickly than I expected. I snap my fingers and say "on" just to show off, but I don't need to do either to control the light or to have it come on. It just happens from within, as effortlessly as twitching a finger or blinking an eye.
"When do you think the other Legacies will develop?" I ask.
Henri looks up from the paper. "Soon," he says. "The next one should start within the month, whatever it is. You just have to keep a close watch. Not all the powers will be obvious like your hands."
"How long will it take for them all to come?"
He shrugs. "Sometimes all is complete within two months, sometimes it takes up to a year. It varies from Garde to Garde. But however long it takes, your major Legacy will be the last to develop."
I close my eyes and lean back against the couch. I think about my major Legacy, the one that will allow me to fight. I'm not sure what I want it to be. Lasers? Mind control? The ability to manipulate the weather as I had seen the man in silver and blue do? Or do I want something darker, more sinister, like the ability to kill without touching? I run my hand down Bernie Kosar's back. I look over at Henri. He's wearing a nightcap and a pair of spectacles on the tip of his nose like a storybook rat.
"Why were we at the airfield that day?" I ask.
"We didn't leave Lorien because of where we happened to be that day. Our being at the airfield, it wasn't sheer happenstance. We were there because when the attack began, the Garde rallied together to get you there. Many sacrificed their lives in the process. There were supposed to be ten of you, though as you know only nine made it off."
"Well, how was it decided that we would leave?" I ask. "I mean, surely a plan like that would've needed more time than a few minutes' notice, right?"
"We didn't take off until three hours after the invasion started. Do you not remember any of it?"
"Very little."
"We met your grandfather at the statue of Pittacus. He gave you to me and told me to get you to the airfield, that that was our only chance. There was an underground compound beneath the airfield. He said there had always been a contingency plan in case something of the sort occurred, but it was never taken seriously because the threat of an attack seemed ludicrous. Just like it would be here, on Earth. If you were to tell any human now that there is a threat of an attack by aliens, well, they would laugh at you. It was no different on Lorien. I asked him how he knew about the plan and he didn't answer, just smiled, and said good-bye. It makes sense that no one would really know about the plan, or only a few would," He pauses to take a breath and orient himself before pressing on. "One of the planet's Elders met us at the airfield. He's the one who cast the Loric charm that branded your ankles and tied you all together, and gave you each an amulet, he told us that when the ten of you were born, Lorien recognized your strong hearts, your wills, your compassion, and in turn she bestowed the ten of you with the roles you're all meant to assume: the roles of the original ten Elders. What this means is that, in time, those of you left will grow to be far stronger than anything Lorien has ever seen before, far stronger even than the original ten Elders from whom you've received your Inheritances. The Mogadorians know this, which is why they're hunting you so feverishly now. They've grown desperate and have flooded this planet with spies. I never told you the truth before because I feared it might drive you to arrogance and that you might be led astray, and there's far too much danger out there looking for you to risk that."
I take some time to allow all of that to sink in, the knowledge of why us nine were chosen, and why all of this effort was put into keeping us alive. In a way, it's a bit freeing to know that I wasn't just a random kid thrust into this situation by happenstance but that I was born to do this. I was born to win.
"But when the third scar arrived I knew that we needed to start looking for the others, and beyond trying to find them and get to them before the Mogs we had little hope but to try and find Malcolm Goode. The dark stars must have fallen because the man was already gone. This man who met us that first day, who gave us a cultural guide to follow and who set us up in our first homes is our only present hope."
A.N. Thank you to those that have been reading. I am trying to put out a chapter or two a day if I don't think I can get them out the next day. To those that care, here soon there should start to be some divergence from the main story and I plan on making some bigger changes past just conversations. Thanks again and Happy Halloween!
A.N. Sorry I am just going through and fixing some errors on my part! If you see anything that should be fixed please let me know, I got so much going on in my head that sometimes I forget to re-read and make sure that I don't have any major issues.
