Elementis 1: The Heir to the Stone (15 page)

After a wander, he made his way back to his room. He removed his top, revealing a muscular dydrid structure. He walked into the bathroom, the lights flashed on. He stepped to the sink, turning on the taps, he splashed warm water into his pores to wash the days travelling dirt from his face. He opened a pair of refreshed eyes to look at himself in the mirror. Seeing the silver crown on his brow was strange. He touched it as if to check it was real. He stared deeply into his own eyes, seeing the uncertainty inside of them that came with his new life. What would he really become? Who would he really become? He'd barely known who he was before he'd accepted the king's bequest. He could hardly take care of himself. Just the thought of having a family one day filled his head with worry. How was he supposed to take care of an entire race? How was he supposed to protect them and all others from the most evil mind known? His eyes flicked down to the reflection of his pendant. Once again he thought of his mother, how she had given her life away so that he could be here. He owed his life to her, and he vowed in silence that he would do the best that he could. With one last look into his eyes, he broke away from his reflection, the lights turned out and he slipped beneath his sheets. He left himself with one final thought looking around at the shadowed darkness of his room. Tomorrow it all begins.

*

Morning came and Jonas sat with Twain by his side in a lecture room as ready as they'd ever be for their first days training. Jonas hadn't really considered the age of the junior Guard before. Even though Twain was younger he was at least a genius and acted as such. Looking around the lecture room, he found himself surrounded by well over two hundred, eleven-year-old boys and girls, each of whom threw things across the room, talked too quickly at each other without even listening to responses and tried to out do each other in a game of who could draw their side-blaster the fastest. It was clear what all of the kids were talking about. Every time Jonas caught the eye of one of them looking over at him they would turn away as if they had never looked in the first place. The new prince was a hot topic. Jonas wished it was otherwise but if people wanted to speculate and love or hate him based on hearsay then he'd just let them get on with it. He wouldn't let it affect him, it was just another thing he hadn't thought about dealing with.

A broad-shouldered man appeared in the doorway. He stood watching the room until the kids in the front row noticed. They sat to attention, as the rows behind followed suit sending a stiff wave of heads sitting up from the front to the back of the room. "Dog-Star" was the battlesign tagged across his chest. He moved from his pose at the doorway with a military air, marching, stiff and purposeful. He turned to the front of the class and stood, looking into everyone's eyes all at once.

"I want everyone armed and on the firing range in under two minutes," he commanded.

Dog-Star looked down at his watch, "One eighty-three, one eighty-two…" he called out to the class.

Knocking their chairs skidding across the smooth stone floor with the backs of their legs, the kids scrambled out of the classroom. Jonas and Twain were the last to leave. They didn't know where the firing range was so hurried on behind the others. They followed into a room lined with stacks of Guard standard-issue helix-blasters. Everyone grabbed a weapon and ran on through an exit door.

The collecting of weapons alone was the most organised operation Jonas had ever witnessed. The kids flooded outside onto a well manicured field. The first thing Jonas noticed was no targets, only some reeds and long grass, twice as tall as him at the far end of the field. The children Jonas had observed inside had somehow switched in an instant from immature adolescents into mini super-soldiers. The kids lined up in two rows, a hundred across, shielded behind a long metal barrier sculpted with a design for protection from attack. A front man took a knee, bending down beneath a jolt in the metal barrier, and a man at the back remained standing poking the barrel of his blaster through the cut-out embrasure at head height. Twain joined at the end of the line and took a knee, pointing his blaster through the lower embrasure. Jonas stood behind him and took aim at the long grass through his own firing hole just as the others did.

Dog-Star watched the last of the soldiers take their places, who happened to be Jonas and Twain. "Very good, gentlemen," he said, pleased with the swiftness of the preparation for attack. "Fire when ready!" he crowed.

Fire at what? thought Jonas. There were still no targets—but just then, wading out from the reeds in the distance came as many dydrid fantoms as there were children, sweeping forward, firing thousands of fire bolts from their fully energized arm-blasters. The black-armoured suits of the fantoms were even stronger than their skin cells. Their red-faced helmets concealed the man or beast inside and the onboard computer gave the soldier mechanical precision in firing at the enemy. The children opened fire as an exchange of white and blue light streamed through the air. The helix-blasters fired shots with a swirling double-helix of laser light. The drill-like effect was deadly to the fantoms, specially designed to twist through the hardened layers of the armoured suits and into the metal skin beneath.

The kids shouted encouragement to each other. "Defend, stand tall," one would start off with. "They will fall," another shouted. Then all together each of them chorused with delight, "The Guard will never surrender!"

Jonas shot fantoms in the head, the chest and the body. Their uniforms were badly burned by his efforts but the soldiers wouldn't fall. He called down to Twain. "I had no idea training would actually be fun!"

Twain called back. "Learning is always fun!" he said, taking aim and blasting a stream of helix plasma out into the field.

"Yeah, if you're a dork!" said Jonas, who had never had a day of schooling in his life.

"You must be a dork then!" said Twain.

Jonas couldn't understand why none of his targets were falling. He'd had enough with the blaster. He knew he could beat them if he could get close enough. "Ever seen a dork do this!?" Jonas said, launching himself over the barrier, running towards the dydrid.

One of the fantoms locked Jonas as a target and ran towards him. Jonas sped up, concentrating a stream of helix fire onto the fantom's arm-blasters, disabling his weapons. The two of them clashed with grappling arms, knocking each other to the ground. Jonas dropped his weapon in the fall. Getting to his feet, Jonas threw a fist up into the helmet of the fantom. The helmet came off revealing a silver-eyed pale face beneath. All shooting stopped. Only two fantoms remained standing; one that Jonas fought with and the other running across to attack him. The helmet-less fantom struck Jonas in the face. He smiled, feeling little pain from the strike. The running fantom shot a rapid burst of laser fire towards Jonas. He swung around, grabbing the neck of the closest fantom to shield him from the shots.

"Stop!" barked Dog-Star, with a powerful voice full of irritation. "That is enough!"

The fantom soldiers went limp with the command, their arms and heads dropped down to a lifeless sleep. Jonas gave the bloodless face of the fantom one last punch, sending it flying through the air with his legs and arms tumbling across the ground.

"Would you mind talking me through exactly what you think you're doing?" said Dog-Star, pacing towards Jonas.

"I was trying to kill him," Jonas responded, worrying that this was the wrong answer.

"Shooting out his guns and moving into hand to hand combat will get you killed quicker than a shento bites its prey," Dog-Star explained, with a reprimanding condescendence to Jonas in front of the entire class.

"I nearly had him," Jonas said, not wanting to be rude or show disrespect but merely being honest.

"Look around you, Jonas. Did these children nearly have their opponents!?"

Jonas looked around. The fantoms on the ground all had blast holes in the chest of their armour.

"When the helix stream is held for long enough in one place, the blaster can pierce the dydrids armour and skin, leaving you free to burn away their metal hearts. This is the best way to kill a dydrid," said Dog-Star.

"I still nearly had him," Jonas replied, not wanting to go down without a little bit of a fight.

The children laughed at Jonas's backchat. Dog-Star stared them down into silence with one glance.

"I don’t think infantry quite suits a prince. Tomorrow we will see how you fare in fighter training against your protectors. I take it you can fly?" said Dog-Star, looking across to the side where Spectrum, Cortex, Menace and Goldheart stood watching.

Jonas didn't respond. He had been embarrassed enough in front of everyone. It was just what his protectors had expected of him, this boy wasn't ready to protect them. He knew too little about so much and he didn't have the urge to listen and learn. They all agreed on one thing, Jonas should never have been brought in to do the work of Prince Calyx, it was all too clear to them that he didn't have the skills of Calyx, the mind of Calyx or the desire needed to protect them from the Zohr as Calyx did. It had only taken the first training exercise to prove it to themselves what they already knew.

*

Alone and back in his quarters, Jonas stared out of his window with the thoughts of today's failure. Perhaps he needed work on his decision-making but what he didn't need was everyone running against him.

The academy was perched on the top of a steep cliff and the view from Jonas's window stretched out along the ravines of a lush valley below. Fresh river water trickled down over the mosses and the fallen rocks from the towering mountainside above. Pine forests grew at an angle on the steep, fertile riverbanks and the river itself wound along the valley floor like a lizards path, flowing over grey pebbles with ripples of white.

Jonas was deep in thought submerging his eyes into the nature around him. He was here now, he had come this far and he wouldn't let himself down. He wouldn't let the people who counted on him down. He felt the pressure of all that they wanted from him, and for once in his life he embraced it. Witakker had told him to train his own mind. No one else could find what it was inside of him that may lead him to control even the Zohr's mind. Jonas took out his vial and studied it. He popped the cork from its top and sniffed the liquid inside. Patience, he told himself. Witakker had once said that he had none. That only inspired him to find it, no doubt exactly what Witakker had intended it to do. And as eager as he was to gulp down this liquid and find the powers in his mind and prove the protectors and the naysayers wrong, he replaced the cork and put the vial back into his pocket.

He closed his eyes, searching for something, anything that felt… different. A voice came into his mind, and another. It was the same muddled thoughts of the converted dydrid that he had heard on Aquilla. They came all this way from the fourth planet of the Valo System. Time and space meant nothing in the transference of a thought between minds. The frequencies of their psyche travelled from mind to mind in an instant. Jonas thought perhaps he should talk to Willow, but then he reminded himself that he had promised himself to keep thoughts of her away. The voices were becoming clearer; they asked for help, for reasons why. Jonas didn't know what they needed help from or what they needed a reason for, but in these voices; there was a true desperation and sadness in their words. Jonas strained his mind. He tried to speak with them but no matter what he was thinking he couldn't get through. It was impossible, his mind couldn't even work telepathy en masse how was it supposed to control the Esla Maven and overcome the Zohr. He opened his eyes and with a look of empty disappointment he lowered his head. For once he didn't want to be alone. He left his room in search of a friend, Twain.

In the games hall, some of the junior Guard were swiping arms, kicking legs, pulling triggers and thrusting swords inside of holographic simulation games. Jonas peered through the glass door, admiring the realistic visuals of the shoot'em-ups, fighter-ship space battles, beast wrestling and a fierce dual of pulsar-blade combat in which one kid sliced his way through dozens of enemy as his score spun up with some floating numbers beside him. The explosions from the games and the laser sound effects filled the room with a busy noise. Jonas pushed the door open, took one step inside and every noise dropped to silence. Jonas was even more infamous after today's fight with the cloned fantom. Spectrum and Goldheart rested their arms on the top of a drinks bar with two ice-steaming shakes sat in front of them. The kids resumed playing their games and Jonas walked over to the bar. For now, the humiliating silence was over.

Spectrum watched Jonas walk towards them out the corner of his eye. "Tough first day, Spider," he said, as Jonas came over.

Great, he thought, a new nickname was just what he needed. "I've had harder days," Jonas said.

Spectrum turned to face Jonas fully, "Dog-Star’s a real battle-axe, I’m glad he’s on our side. He doesn’t like you much, though."

"I seem to have that effect on some people," said Jonas.

"Fighting that droid wasn’t the smartest thing you’ll ever do," Spectrum said, dwelling on the embarrassment.

"It wouldn't have hurt for someone to tell me how to kill the dydrid before the exercise," Jonas said.

"We must have forgotten that you weren’t from our planet. Everyone knows that!" said Spectrum, a little smugly.

"Is there anything else I need to be let in on?" asked Jonas.

"I'm sure something will crop up!" Spectrum said.

"I'm sure it will."

Jonas had hoped that the protectors hostility towards him ever since they'd seen his face on Kroyto would have passed by now. But since it had got worse he saw no reason spending time where he wasn't wanted. Jonas walked away from the bar without another word.

Spectrum called after him, "Hopefully, tomorrow you’ll start learning, Spider!"

Menace and Cortex walked into the games hall. Jonas walked straight past them with an uncomfortable feeling of ignorance. It was starting to get to Jonas. He'd never commanded one word of respect from anyone and he was well aware that he was a stranger to almost everyone here. But to be treated like an outsider, and teased with the nickname, Spider, when he was here to do nothing but train to become fit enough to be called a Guard, let alone a prince, cut a feeling deep into Jonas's throat. The fact remained that he hadn't asked for this life; he was doing it for them, for their survival. Tomorrow, Jonas was determined to show them that he already had what it took to be the protector of the Elementis. He had been flying ships since he was six; that was a better education than any academy could give him.