Haladras (6 page)

The trip back to Skylar’s home seemed to pass quickly.
Skylar’s curiosity had only increased since they set out on their strange
outing. What was his uncle planning to do with all these supplies? Why was he
being so secretive? Why did he want Skylar to have a cloak and oilskin?

Skylar tried to make sense of it all, but he simply
couldn’t—unless his uncle really was going mad. But that didn’t make sense to
him either. That his uncle was eccentric he had no doubt. But crazy?
Impossible. He was far too intelligent for that.

Lasseter brought the sand rover to a halt at the base of the
Gorge’s wall, just below Skylar’s cave.

“Do you remember my warning?” Lasseter suddenly asked,
interrupting Skylar’s thought.

Skylar hesitated. “Be cautious?”

“Yes. But about the insects…you must stay clear of them.”

“But Uncle, they haven’t been spotted on Haladras...”

“I told you, they will come. You must avoid them.”

His tone was grave, filled with the same foreboding as the
first night he spoke of them.

“I will,” promised Skylar. He began to get out of the sand
rover when Lasseter stopped him.

“Should you happen upon any, this might help you to get
away,” said Lasseter as he reached for something from under his seat. What he
pulled out made Skylar gape in astonishment.

“My jetwing!” he shouted, as he took the coveted flying
device from Lasseter and examined it. Except for a few new scratches, it looked
in perfect condition. “How did you...did you fix this?”

“I know a mechanic in Duhavi. He owed me a favor.”

Skylar didn’t know what to say; he never expected to see his
jetwing in one piece again.

“Thank you,” he finally stammered.

His uncle nodded. “I trust you’ll be more careful from now
on.”

Saying goodbye, Skylar hopped out of the sand rover and ran
up the sloped pathway toward his home, thinking nothing of his uncle’s
warnings.

SIX

T
HE NEXT DAY
brought yet more
unanswered questions for Skylar. The previous evening, after his mother had
returned from work, he told her about the strange outing with his uncle. He
described the peculiar supplies they purchased and the bizarre encounter with
the apothecary.

“Lasseter even ordered a cloak and oilskin for me. What
would I need those for? Do you know what he’s up to?”

His mother only answered that his uncle likes to be
prepared.

“Prepared for what?” asked Skylar.

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Sky. Your uncle has his own
ways,” she had said with a smile. But Skylar noted a touch of sadness in her
eyes. There was something she wasn’t telling him.

The next day at the Academy, his thoughts were still
distracted by the previous day’s events. He sat brooding over everything,
waiting for professor Valenkr’s lecture to begin, when Rolander hurried over to
him, his red face beaming with excitement.

“Did you hear the news?” said Rolander, as he stumbled into
his seat next to Skylar.

“About what?”

“The insects—the ones Arturo reported to the Council about.
Remember, I told you they were really machines and not insects at all?”

How could I forget them?
thought Skylar. His uncle
certainly didn’t want him to forget.

“What about them?”

“Well, yesterday my father was at Sansaya—the mining unit a few
kilometers from here. He said the whole community was talking about the
insects. Some of people there claimed to have seen them. Some even claim they
were stung. You know what that means, don’t you?” he said, his eyes as wide as
craters. “The insects are on Haladras. And they are likely to show up here
before too long.”

The news struck Skylar like a blow from Drake to his gut. He
did not share his friend’s excitement. It only made his uncle’s warning all too
real, and eerie. How had his uncle known they would come? And why did he want
Skylar to avoid them?

“Was anyone hurt?” said Skylar. “I mean, the people who were
stung…did anything happen to them?”

Rolander shook his head. “Except for a bit of hysteria,
everyone was fine.”

Skylar frowned. Things just didn’t make sense.

“What do you think they are, Roland?”

Rolander leaned in a little closer, quickly glanced to
either side, then whispered, “I think they are looking for someone.”

The idea sent a chill down Skylar’s spine. The things were
creepy enough without also being on a mission to find someone. He didn’t want
to think about what they would do once they found whoever it was.

“But who would they be looking for, and who would send
them?”

“Who knows,” replied Rolander. “But I intend to catch one
and find out.”

“How—”

Skylar cutoff. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed some
movement nearby. He turned to look.

It was Kendyl, smiling, and walking in their direction.

“Hi Skylar,” she said, stopping in front of his desk.

She smiled at him and tucked a loose strand of hair behind
one ear.

“Can I sit here?” she asked, leaning toward the seat next to
him, her dazzling blue eyes looking at him expectantly.

A sense of elation coursed through Skylar’s entire body. His
fingers and toes tingled with it.

Of course. I’ve been saving it for you
, he thought
about saying. Or,
wherever you want, as long as it’s next to me.

All that came out of his mouth was a stammered, “uh,
yes…yes.”

He cringed inside at how pathetic he sounded. Why couldn’t he
say something smooth or clever?

As Kendyl took her seat next to him, he taxed his brain for
some comment that would redeem him. Nothing came.

He was vaguely aware that Professor Valenkr was calling the
class to order.

Later. He would talk to her later.

He had forgotten entirely about his conversation with
Rolander. All his thoughts now swirled around the pretty little red-head seated
next to him, and how he could impress her.

After school Skylar and Kendyl walked together. Now that
Skylar had his jetwing again, he could fly home. Ordinarily he would have.
Today, he happily walked.

The searing heat of the midday sun bore down on them as they
went along. They wound their way down the southern face of the Gorge, Skylar
taking furtive glances at Kendyl as often as he dared.

She wore a simple white tunic, with a sharp v-shaped neck
line, loosely laced together near her slender neck. The hem of the tunic was
midway down her thighs. Beige leggings, tall boots, and a broad leather belt
around her waist completed the outfit.

“I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything from Rasbus, have
you?” she asked.

“No,” said Skylar. “And I don’t expect I will. Rasbus is not
one to change his mind. When he said two weeks, I’m sure he meant it.”

“That’s too bad. You must be getting bored. I know I would
be.”

Skylar shrugged. “I do miss it. But I’m glad to at least be
back at the Academy.”

“I'm glad you're back, too,” she said, smiling at him and
blushing noticeably.

Skylar swallowed and laughed awkwardly.

“So,” he said, not knowing how to respond to Kendyl’s
flirtatious comment, “what do you do for your apprenticeship?”

Kendyl’s expression immediately changed, and she let out a
little grunt of annoyance.

“Uh, did I say something wrong?”

A faint trace of Kendyl’s smile returned. “No…no. It’s just
a sore topic for me. I’ve always wanted to work in the mines. I love the idea
of exploring immense caverns hidden deep underground, digging deeper and deeper
into the heart of our planet. It seems so exciting.”

Skylar was taken aback. Kendyl looked too delicate, too
feminine to do a job as grimy and labor-intensive as mining.

“But,” she continued, “females aren’t allowed in the mines.
We’re not allowed to apprentice as dockhands—for that matter. It’s so unfair.
All that a girl can do on this miserable planet is learn to weave, sew, bake,
wash, or grow food. Which is fine enough. But I’d like a little excitement,
too—some adventure.”

She sighed heavily. “I suppose there is not much I can do
about it, though.”

“I didn’t realize you weren’t allowed to do those things,”
said Skylar. “I just thought girls weren’t interested in things like mining.”

“Hmm! Well, not all of us are the same, Skylar Lancewright,”
she said. “You probably think I couldn’t handle being a miner, don’t you? Too
weak.”

She turned her head away from him with a jerk, her hair
lashing out like a whip, and halted in her tracks.

“You’re as bad as my father. He won’t let me do anything.”

Skylar stopped and turned to look at her, baffled at how the
conversation had suddenly turned him into the enemy. So much for trying to
impress her.

“I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just that you’re so…” He
wanted to say beautiful.

She cast a glare at him while he fumbled with his words.

“…well,” he stammered on, “I mean...I don’t think it’s
right. You ought to be allowed. I would let you.”

Kendyl eyed him suspiciously, one brow raised slightly. Then
the tight line of her lips slowly twitched into a playful smile.

“Well, that’s very sweet of you to say. I’m afraid you can’t
do anything about it, either.”

Skylar breathed an internal sigh of relief. He had managed
to say the right thing—or at least avoid the wrong thing.

They were nearly to Skylar’s cave now. He didn’t want their
walk to end.

“Can I walk you to your home, or wherever you’re going?” he
ventured.

She smiled in a way that made his stomach knot up.

“Maybe another day,” was all she said.

With that she waved goodbye and dashed off, her fiery hair
streaming behind her like a victory banner. Skylar watched her until she disappeared
around the first bend, then he turned and entered his cave.

Inside, Skylar peeked around in all the rooms. Satisfied his
uncle wasn’t lurking about anywhere, he went to his bedchamber to study. He’d
scarcely opened his geology book when he heard a call at the entryway. Annoyed
at having to get up so soon, Skylar went to go see who it was.

On the landing outside their cave, stood a man with a squat
stature and rubicund face. He wore a Haladrian military uniform. He was not a
ranked officer, Skylar could tell that much. The man stood erect, his arms
straight at his sides.

“Are you Skylar Lancewright?” the soldier asked.

“Yes,” said Skylar tentatively.

Mechanically, the officer reached into his lapel, drew out a
yellow envelope and extended it toward Skylar.

“I have been commissioned to deliver this summons to you.”

Skylar took the envelope.

“Summons for what?”

But the officer had already turned his back to Skylar and
showed no intention of saying or doing anything beyond his commissioned duty.

Skylar returned to his room, where he tore open the envelope
and quickly read the enclosed letter:

The Incident Investigation
Committee for the Bureau of Interplanetary Trade and Travel hereby issues this
summons to Skylar Lancewright to appear in a court of investigation on the
sixteenth day of the Orven moon, year fourteen of His Majesty King Tarus’
reign. He shall appear before the court at the Cloud Harbor space port,
prepared to give testimony concerning the events of the eighth at a quarter
after sunrise. Failure to appear will result in legal punitive action.

The letter was signed and bore the bureau’s official seal: a
ring of seven spheres superimposed on an image of a shuttle, all underscored by
BITT.

At first Skylar did not fully understand the letter. What
had he done that he should need to appear before a court? He re-read the
letter, paying closer attention to the details.

“Concerning the events of the eighth...,” he repeated to
himself.

And then it hit him. That was the same day he had been injured
at the docks, the same day as
the incident
. Not in all his dreams did he
imagine anything so serious would come of that. Was he in more trouble than he
realized?

He cast the letter onto the floor. Whatever flicker of hope
he had of returning to his apprenticeship at the harbor fizzled out in that
moment.

*  
*   *

The day of his court appearance arrived. Skylar slumped in
the passenger seat of Kindor’s speeder as it blasted across the barren
landscape toward Cloud Harbor. The morning sun hung low in the sky. Though
already scorching hot, it seemed dimmer than usual, gloomy.

Skylar had had three days to prepare himself for the court.
Three miserable days. The more he had thought about the court, the gloomier he
felt. Some awful doom awaited him—he knew it.

Kindor had done little to assuage his worries. He too had
received a summons to appear before the court. Kindor did his best to convince
Skylar that he had nothing to worry about—being an apprentice, Skylar’s actions
were not punishable by the Bureau. Still, this investigation would bring
unwanted attention and scrutiny to the harbor. And there was nothing to prevent
Rasbus from terminating Skylar’s apprenticeship because of it. Neither Kindor
nor Skylar could stop him.

And so the pair sped onward to see what fate held for them,
a whirlwind of arid dust swirling in their wake.

When Cloud Harbor finally became visible on the horizon,
Skylar’s palms began to sweat and his pulse quickened.

“I’m not excited to see it, today,” said Skylar.

Kindor made no reply.

As they came nearer and the docks began to take shape,
Skylar’s mind flashed back to the day of
the incident
. He pictured
himself lying like a dead body on the lower deck. A shutter ran through him.

The harbor was unusually calm for that time of day. A few
dockhands were scattered about, engaged in some mundane task. More than the
lack of men at the docks, the quietness struck him. Rasbus was not standing at
his post, barking out commands in one breathless stream. Skylar wondered if he
would see Rasbus. He realized for the first time that he actually missed the
iron-lunged harbor master.

Kindor brought the speeder to a stop just outside the
harbor’s main entrance. The two climbed out and entered the building. Inside,
Kindor led them toward a mechanical lift, which they used to ascend to the top
level. Exiting the lift, they walked down a lengthy hallway, their footsteps
echoing loudly. A soldier stood guard just outside one of the portals. They
halted in front of him.

“Name?” demanded the guard.

“Come on, Wes, you know my name?” said Kindor.

“Name?” repeated Wes in the same serious tone.

Kindor sighed. “Kindor Nightstar.” The guard checked his
list, nodded, then rigidly moved aside for Kindor to pass.

“Thank you” said Kindor and walked through. Skylar made to
follow, but the guard extended an arm to bar the way.

“Name?”

“Skylar...Skylar Lancewright.”

Wes lowered his gaze to check his list again. Skylar hoped
that somehow his name would be absent from it. Of course, it was not absent, and
the guard let Skylar pass.

Inside, Skylar found a room of unimpressive size and
appearance. A single aisle ran through the middle of numerous rows of benches,
which filled most of the room. These were nearly brimming with persons in
uniform. At the head of the room stood a platform and a wide desk. A row of six
men sat behind the desk. They wore gray robes and gray caps. Several of the men
had long gray beards. All six wore stern faces. On the wall behind these men,
hung the banners of Ahlderon and Haladras.

“Don’t worry,” whispered Kindor, as he ushered Skylar toward
the front row, “they’re probably all asleep up there.”