Children of the Void: Book One of the Aionian Saga (34 page)

A scent tickled Gideon’s nose. Though the smell was unlike any he’d ever experienced, Gideon knew it had to be food. Cautiously at first, he walked out from behind the rock and looked at the package. Tendrils of steam danced out of a small hole at the top, filling his nostrils with the promise of hot food.

The puck had expanded into a bowl with crimped corners in a star pattern. Gently, Gideon gripped two opposing corners and pulled them apart. The hole expanded easily. The bowl was full of a substance that looked like oatmeal and smelled heavenly. He put his hand over the bowl, feeling the steam coming off the food. It was hot, but not so hot that he had to pull his hand away. He dipped two dirty fingers into the mush and blew on the substance. His hunger overcame his fear, and he stuffed his fingers into his mouth.
 

The food tasted even better than it smelled. He attacked it with both hands, shoveling the hot mush into his mouth. Soon, he was scrapping out the corners of the little container with his fingers and sucking on them.

He sat for a moment, content with the feeling of being full for the first time in days. The sudden binge made his stomach ache, but the pleasure of eating a hot meal after days of cold goop was worth it. He looked down at his father and wondered if he’d be able to feed him. The admiral didn’t seem to be wasting away, so obviously Tloltan had found a way to keep him nourished. Gideon picked up another food package and unzipped it. It shook and expanded like the first one, but this time it had a different smell. The contents were some sort of chunky stew, but it still smelled delicious, and after sampling it, he found it to be as palatable as the first.

After a quick search through Tloltan’s supplies, he found a utensil that looked like a spoon and sat next to his father. As he tried to prop him up, Admiral Killdeer let out a moan. “Dad,” said Gideon, gripping him by the shoulders. His father’s eyes fluttered. “Dad, it’s me, Gideon. I’m here to take you home.”
 

He thought about how preposterous that statement was since the Maodoni had blown up the only home Gideon had ever known.
 

“Dad, please,” he continued. “Say something.”
 

His father’s eyes flickered open and rolled around for a moment before they finally focused. “Gid?” he croaked. “You...” His eyes closed once more, and for a moment, Gideon was worried he would pass out again.

“Dad, stay with me, stay awake for a second.” His father’s eyelids slowly rolled back up. “Do you think you can eat something?” The admiral didn’t speak, but managed a slow nod. Gideon stood and lifted his father up against a rock, then scooped up a spoonful of stew.

It took a bit of work, but eventually he got his father to eat. He spoon-fed him until half the bowl was gone and his father held up his hand for Gideon to stop. The admiral cleared his throat, speaking clearly enough to raise Gideon’s hopes. “That’s good... for now, Gid. I need... water.”

Gideon stood to look through the gear again, and soon found an opaque bag filled with some sort of liquid. One end had a loop for a handle, and the other end had a valve. Gideon squeezed the valve and upended the bag, releasing a clear liquid. He poured some into his hand and sniffed it. To be sure it wasn’t some sort of propellant, he shook some out onto the fire, causing the flames to hiss and sputter. Gideon held up the bag and put the valve to his lips, allowing a few drops to wet his tongue.
 

Convinced it was regular H2O, he took a full gulp. Had he been alone, he would have drained the entire thing right there, but his father needed it more, so he hurried back to his side. To Gideon’s relief, the admiral still sat with his eyes open. Gideon placed the valve to his father’s lips and let a little trickle into his mouth.
 

The admiral choked and coughed. “Easy, Dad,” said Gideon, putting the valve to his father’s lips again once the coughing subsided. Admiral Killdeer drank a full liter before he was satisfied, then laid his head back against the rock and breathed deeply.

Gideon pulled the parachute material back over him. “How do you feel?”

The admiral let out a small laugh. “Like I just burned up in the atmosphere and slammed into the ground like a meteor, but other than that, I’m fine.” He looked up at Gideon. “How are you, son?”

Gideon smiled. “Well, since I can walk, I guess I’m doing better than you.”

His father gave him a steady look. “How are the others?”

Gideon swallowed hard. How could he possibly start to explain everything? How could he tell him about all the people who had died? “It’s... pretty rough. Maybe you should rest a while before I tell you everything.”

“I’m fine,” said the admiral, his voice coming through stronger this time. “I’m feeling a lot better now. What’s the situation, Gideon?” It wasn’t his father asking the question right now, it was Admiral Ethan Killdeer. One and a half centuries of unquestioned authority added a certain weight to a person’s words.

It took a minute for Gideon to organize his thoughts. Once he did, he was able to give his father his version of events. The admiral listened, sometimes asking a clarifying question, occasionally going wide eyed, but for the most part, he listened in silence. He clenched his jaw when Gideon told him of Morgan Devereux’s betrayal, and only lost his composure when Gideon explained the execution of Alexia Uritumbo. Gideon had never seen his father look so livid, or curse so vehemently. In fact, Gideon had never seen either of those things at all.

When Gideon had finished, the admiral sat for some time, staring into the fire. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply for several minutes. Gideon would have assumed his father had fallen asleep were it not for tears finding their way out from the corners of his eyes and down his cheeks. Gideon wanted to say something, but didn’t trust himself to speak. He was unused to seeing his father show emotion.

Admiral Killdeer opened his eyes and pulled himself up, wiping tears from his cheeks. He cleared his throat and pulled the yellow globules off his skin. “We better get going,” he said, shaking one of the yellow blobs off his fingers. “Who knows what else Devereux is capable of. You and I have got to stop him.”

“Hold on,” said Gideon, standing up. “You’re in no shape to travel, and Devereux has a dozen henchmen in Sentinel Armor to back him up. What are the two of us going to do against them?”

“I told you,” said the admiral, grunting as he tried to stand up, “we’re going to stop them. Now help me up, would you?”

Gideon hesitated, then took his father’s hand and hoisted him to his feet. Gideon supported him while he regained his balance, and after a moment, his father walked around on unsteady feet. “There, you see? I’m fine. I just needed some rest, that’s all.”

“Dad, you can barely walk. The camp is over a hundred kilometers from here, through some pretty rough country. You need to rest and build up your strength before we can even think about making that trek.”

“You forget,” said the admiral with a half grin, “I’ve still got my Sentinel Armor, and you’ve got your fancy... kokamoka armor, or whatever you call it.”

“Koramoa Armor,” said Gideon. “But it won’t do me any good. I don’t know how to use it. Might as well be a fancy bracelet.”

Admiral Killdeer tilted his head and eyed the gold bracer on Gideon’s wrist. “I have a pretty good idea about how it works.” He bent over and picked up a small stone. Before Gideon could think, his father hurled the stone at him, hitting him squarely in the chest.

“Hey!” said Gideon. “That hurt.”

Before Gideon could protest further, the admiral picked up a much larger stone and threw it at him. Gideon closed his eyes and threw up his arms, anticipating a painful blow any moment. Instead, he heard a loud metallic gong. He opened his eyes to see a golden disc blocking his father from view. When he moved his arm, he realized the golden disc was attached to his wrist. The disc folded back in on itself until it was just a bracer around his wrist once again.

Gideon looked up to see his father smirking at him.
 

“What just happened?” Gideon asked.

“The armor reacted to your need, your... instinct,” said the admiral. “You don’t control it with conscious thought or action, any more than you consciously controlled your hands moving up to protect your face. It’s a part of you now.”

Gideon looked at the gold band around his wrist. “How did you know that would work?”

Admiral Killdeer shrugged. “I didn’t. Just a hunch, that’s all. Thought it was worth a try.”

“You didn’t know?” said Gideon, glaring at his father. “What if it hadn’t worked?”

Another shrug. “Then you’d have a really big goose egg right now.”

“Well, next time you have a bright idea, try conducting the experiment on yourself.”

“I did,” said the admiral, raising one eyebrow, “that’s how I ended up here.” Gideon stood speechless, then his father walked over to him and clapped him on the shoulder. “But now we know two things. I can do a halo jump from low orbit in Sentinel Armor, and you can control your Krakatoa Armor with your mind. See how much you learn when you’re willing to take a little risk?”

“Koramoa.”

“What?”

Gideon rolled his eyes. “It’s called Koramoa Armor.”

“Right. Sorry. Koramoa Armor. I think those yellow globs put some drugs in me. Just feeling a little odd.” Admiral Killdeer turned and walked over to his Sentinel Armor. He already seemed a lot steadier on his feet. Gideon made a mental note not to underestimate his father’s tenacity, or his throwing arm. The admiral held up the suit and inspected it.

“It’s pretty beat up,” he said, “but I think it’ll work. Help me get this on.”

Gideon shook his head as he walked over to his father. “I still think you need some rest,” he mumbled, but helped his father into the suit anyway. Once it was on, it activated without any problem, sealing itself and running a diagnostic. The admiral walked around the cave to test it out. It wasn’t operating at one hundred percent, but both Gideon and his father were happily surprised at how well it was performing after so much abuse.

“These suits never fail to amaze me.” The admiral picked through the supplies for anything useful, pausing a moment to look at Tloltan’s burial mound before continuing his search. They found that one of the bags was actually an ingenious backpack. They loaded it up, and the admiral muscled it onto his back. It would have been much too heavy to carry without Sentinel Armor. Admiral Killdeer adjusted the pack and turned to look at Gideon.

“Well,” he said, “suit up.”

Gideon threw his hands in the air. “I told you, I don’t know how.”

“Yes, you do,” said the admiral. “Do I need to throw a bigger rock?”

“It’s not that easy,” said Gideon. “I don’t know how I blocked that stone.”

Admiral Killdeer sighed impatiently. “Close your eyes.”

“I tried that, Dad. Nothing happened.”

“Humor me, son.”

Gideon rolled his eyes, but did as he was told.

“Now,” his father said, “don’t try to command the armor, just think about what you want it to do. Concentrate on the end result.”

In his mind’s eye, Gideon tried to picture himself wearing the armor. He wasn’t sure if it was working or not, but he thought his wrist tingled a little. A moment later, the tingling spread across his whole body. He blinked and looked at his father. The admiral was smiling back at him.

“You look quite impressive, Koramoa.”

Gideon looked at his arms, and as he did, he saw a flash of gold. He did a double take. Both his arms and hands were completely clad in the intricate runes of the golden armor. A quick look at his legs told him they were covered the same way. His chest was also covered, although in a more elaborate and stylized pattern.

He gently put his hands to his head and face. Somehow, he could feel through the armor, as if it were his own skin. The armor went right over his face and eyes, yet his vision was completely unobstructed. “This is so weird,” he said, then caught his breath at the sound of the deep, hollow tone of his own voice coming through the armor.

Admiral Killdeer walked up to Gideon and removed one of his gloves. He reached out and touched the armor at Gideon’s shoulders, which jutted out in mean-looking spikes. Gideon flinched as his father’s hand moved over his face. There was a strange sensation as his fingers poked the eyes of the mask, but no pain or discomfort at all.

“Impressive armor,” the admiral whispered. “You look... terrifying.”

Gideon stepped back, disoriented by the lack of extra weight he would have expected from the armor. “You have no idea how strange this is. I can’t even feel it.”

“Incredible,” said the admiral. “I can’t even fathom the technology that makes this possible. You ought to see yourself.”

Gideon turned and walked to the stacks of supplies, rummaging through them until he found what he had been looking for. It was a metal box, reflective enough to act as a makeshift mirror. It wasn’t a perfect reflection, but he could see the mask covering his face was the same demonic expression that Tloltan had worn.

As his father walked up to stand beside him, Gideon thought he could make out a faint pink aura emanating from him. On top of that, he noticed his peripheral vision was wider, and in general, everything seemed a little bit sharper.

“How do you feel?” the admiral asked.

“It’s hard to describe. I don’t feel the armor at all, but I think my sight and hearing are more sensitive.” He sniffed the air. “And my sense of smell is stronger.”

“Fascinating,” said the admiral, looking Gideon up and down. “Do you feel stronger? Physically, I mean?”

Gideon looked at his hand and made a fist, flexing his arm as he did so. “Not really. I don’t feel any change at all.”

Admiral Killdeer looked around the cave. “Hmm. We need to test it on something. Come on, Gid. Follow me.”

He walked toward the cave entrance, and Gideon followed. Once outside, the two of them stood in the sun, Admiral Killdeer in his black Sentinel Armor, and Gideon in the golden armor of a Koramoa. The admiral looked around, then pointed at a boulder next to the cave opening.