TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 4
The Lone Invader
Well, it’s official. Now that my brother’s gone, I’m the only human in this galaxy.
But don’t cry for me, earthlings. It’s kind of empowering to go it alone. I’m like a one-woman Lewis and Clark, scoping out this foreign terrain and reporting back to you in digital glory. If you’re considering joining the colony, think of me as your personal trailblazer. In fact, I’ve just been appointed to the colony development panel! What does that mean? That I’m doing important work here—representing your interests and advocating for the best lifestyle possible.
I want you to know what to expect, so here’s what I’ve learned so far:
? The colony is set on a lush, balmy island with fertile soil for growing crops. It’s fairly isolated, but don’t worry—I’m negotiating for access to the main continent by way of shuttle.
? Not sure what to do with your life? The L’eihrs will give you an aptitude test, then supply your ideal job. I’m still working on more personal choice, but if nothing else, know that your occupation will likely suit you to a T.
? If you can’t stand too much idle time, you’ll enjoy the highly structured way of life here. Everyone on the colony will contribute to its success, which means you’ll be a part of something larger than yourself. Hard work has its rewards.
Stay tuned for more tidbits about colony life. I’ll collect as much data as possible before I come home to visit. Only fifty-ish days to go!
Posted by Cara Sweeney
In the days that followed, a fleet of guards began interrogating every living being over the age of ten inside the Aegis. But halfway through the campaign, Dahla awoke from her coma and pointed her finger at Professor Helm, who promptly confessed to the attack. Since then, he’d been detained in the guard barracks, since prisons didn’t exist on L’eihr and The Way hadn’t quite decided what to do with him.
The entire Aegis was perplexed by the news…including Cara.
She knew Helm wasn’t her biggest fan, and yet she couldn’t picture the mild-mannered professor wielding a blade like a common street thug. Then there was the issue of Dahla’s poisoning. Helm had been nowhere near the dining hall the morning she’d collapsed. Maybe he’d snapped…or maybe someone had used mind control to orchestrate the confession.
If that were the case, only two suspects remained—the only students capable of manipulating a mental query. Jaxen and Aisly. But for the life of her, Cara couldn’t figure out a motive. Neither of them had a reason to want her expelled or dead, and thanks to their positions in The Way, accusing them of the crime would amount to treason.
So with her hands figuratively tied, she avoided them like a bikini wax and focused on her duties as Chief Human Consultant—her official title, not that she was bragging or anything.
Cara was a halfway decent politician, if she did say so herself. So far, she’d convinced the panel to allot the colony six shuttles for emergency use and establish one full day of rest per week. Not perfect, but a Kong-size leap in the right direction. When she’d mentioned the democratic method, the Elders had practically broken out in hives, but she would wear them down. She just needed more time.
However, Cara was on a different mission today—one Aelyx had assigned her—which explained why she was currently standing outside the front doors of the capital’s reference building, repeatedly scanning her wrist to gain entry. No matter how many times she thrust her nano-chip beneath the dancing gray beam, the doors refused to part. Likely because the system knew she didn’t belong there.
Her failed attempts at entry must have set off an internal alarm, because a guard ambled up from the front walkway. Without offering a greeting, he motioned for her wrist while pulling a handheld scanner from his pocket.
“Mahra,” Cara said, offering her hand, palm up.
He nodded a return hello and swept his device over her skin. A tinny voice from the speaker informed him, “Cah-ra Sweeney. Resident of the first Aegis, l’ihan to Aelyx of the first Aegis. Chief Human Consultant. No alerts.”
Cara perked up at the mention of her title. “I’m here to see Larish,” she told the guard in L’eihr. “He’s a scholar in this building, but I can’t seem to get inside. Can you help?”
He didn’t seem enthused about the prospect of letting her in, but he opened the doors and led her to an office on the second floor.
The room looked more like a reading lounge than a formal workspace, with several deep-cushioned chairs positioned around a data table, its surface displaying multiple windows of text and images. A middle-age man—Larish, she presumed—bent over the screen, tapping it to enlarge a photograph of a red planet.
“Larish,” the guard said, extending two fingers in greeting. “Cah-ra Sweeney requests congress with you. Do you accept?”
Congress? That sounded dirty, like a line from a Victorian romance novel. Cara lifted her data tablet toward Larish, who stared at her in obvious bewilderment. She smiled brightly and bounced on her toes in her best fan-girl impression. “I absolutely loved your thesis on the primate connection,” she said in L’eihr. “If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to ask you a few questions.” Being human, her interest in the topic of shared lineage shouldn’t raise any red flags.
Like many of his generation, Larish’s eyes betrayed little emotion, but his posture lifted in tandem with the corners of his mouth. It told Cara she’d hit the bull’s-eye. Academics loved nothing more than discussing their theories—especially with those who agreed with them.
“Please,” he said in meticulous English, indicating the chairs opposite him. “Be my guest.”
Cara thanked the guard for his assistance and took a seat. “I can’t believe I’m sitting across from the Larish. Your work is brilliant.”
He waved her off, his smile widening. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“Thanks for making time for me.”
“Anything to assist an eager young mind.” Larish sat back and crossed his legs at the ankles. “How can I help you?”
Cara didn’t want to alarm him by leading with questions about the Aribol, so she started small. “When did you realize the old legend was wrong—that your ancients were actually human?”
“As soon as we made contact and accessed your electronic databases,” Larish said. “Humans have unearthed fossils of Homo Erectus that date back more than a million years. On L’eihr, we’ve found no remains that predate the ancients. Some of our anthropologists argued that L’eihr’s mild climate and predominant water mass were to blame—”
“Because remains decay faster in warm temperatures,” she interrupted. “Plus, weren’t storms a big problem before you controlled the weather?”
“Yes,” he said, sounding impressed. “Which would have destroyed even more evidence…but surely not all of it.”
“Totally.” She had been on board from the beginning. Now to get to the good stuff. “I’m also curious about the Aribol—you know, the aliens who kidnapped all those ancient soldiers and carried them here?”
“A name I assigned to them based on hearsay, you understand…”
“Of course.”
“What would you like to know?” he asked.
She leaned forward and caught her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment. “I can’t stop thinking about them. I mean, if they had the technology to abduct a whole legion of warriors thousands of years ago, what’s stopping them from doing it again—here or on my planet?”
Larish lifted a shoulder. “Nothing, I suppose. But they haven’t, which is telling.”
“What do you mean?”
He shifted in his seat, pausing for a moment while folding both hands in his lap. “I don’t have any evidence to support this, but I believe the Aribol are tinkerers. Behavioral scientists on an intergalactic scale. They like to seed species across multiple galaxies to see how each one develops uniquely in a new environment. I don’t think they wish us harm. But before I can convince you, I need to explain something about our ancients.”
She nodded for him to go on.
“To say they were merely brutal would be a flagrant understatement,” he told her. “I’ve studied human history, and the ancients who ruled our seas rivaled that of your most savage societies. Men and women fought alongside one another while the injured and elderly remained with the younglings. Even children were trained in combat. I’ve read stories of boys and girls as young as ten doing battle.”
“Wow.”
“Indeed,” he said. “Even rulers occupied the front lines. In fact, one of our most infamous queens died in a bloody battle, along with her consort. It was rumored she was with child at the time of her death, and several years ago, scientists confirmed it.”
“Oh, I heard about that. Their tomb was on the colony, right?”
“Very good.” He gave an approving tip of his head like a proud teacher. “The remains were brought to our genetics labs when I was a youngling, but as my path didn’t follow a scientific bend, I wasn’t able to study the data. Anyway, the queen was in her second trimester when she perished.”
“I had no idea the ancients were so hard-core.”
“And it stands to reason their ancestors were just as savage when they were abducted from Earth. Imagine what the Aribol faced when they teleported these warriors aboard their craft.” He sniffed a dry laugh. “It must have been utter bedlam.”