ã€ŠField of Night (Starlit Arena, Progression Sci-Fi)ã€‹


 1. Greetings

    Sam¡¯s eyes refused to work. Perhaps because the night before they¡¯d melted, oozed down his face, and formed a congealed puddle next to his textbooks. The perils of pulling an all-nighter.

    Fortunately¡ªbut regrettably¡ªthis wasn¡¯t the first time. He squeezed his eyelids shut, and through the magic of willpower, his eyes reconstituted themselves.

    He found himself slumped over a desk near the back of a lecture hall. A place he knew all too well.

    A vibration stung his thigh, causing him to spasm. Again? He grimaced and left the offending device consigned to his pocket. The stupid phone hadn¡¯t stopped buzzing the whole morning. His former teammates had lost their third game in a row and, in their desolation, had chosen to bombard him with pleas to rejoin the team. Not happening. But that didn¡¯t make him feel any better about ignoring them.

    An old visualization came to mind. A set of scales, labeled Sam¡¯s Sanity, teetering dangerously to the side titled Guilt. Then, a weight titled Basketball Team materialized in the sky, and dropped on one side with a resplendent clang. It was too much. The scales tilted and crashed, sending up a plume of dust.

    Hold it together, Sam. He thumbed the silence toggle on his phone.

    However, in an act of defiance, it continued to shake, insistent. A modicum of unease unfolded in Sam¡¯s stomach. The last time his phone had behaved so demandingly, it was paramedics trying to reach his mother¡¯s emergency contact. Concern washed his tiredness and annoyance away, and he scrambled to fish his phone from his pocket.

    A cacophony of buzzing spread throughout the lecture hall. Any conversations taking place halted.

    It¡¯s all of us? He reviewed the all-caps, white-lettered notification splashed across his phone¡¯s display. Tune in immediately for an announcement from the president.

    What is it this time? A knot clenched in Sam¡¯s gut. A stifling tension descended on the room, reinforced by the gasps of his fellow students. Emergency alerts these days were all too frequent, but a direct message from the leader of the free world came with an extra dose of foreboding. Sam usually did his best to avoid the news, finding it depressing and distracting, but that wasn¡¯t much help if the news came to him.

    A few clicks from the pale-faced professor and an image materialized on the whiteboard: the president, her eyes commanding and her brow glistening with a light sheen of sweat.

    ¡°My fellow Americans. Citizens of the world who may be listening. I thank you for your time and attention. My administration brings you urgent news. Please know that I do not share this information lightly.¡±

    The president paused, outwardly steeling herself. Her next words would be remembered for eternity. ¡°We are not alone. I can confirm that intelligent life outside of Earth exists.¡±

    Sam¡¯s vision dissolved into spots as blood rushed to his head. The lecture hall swam around him. He¡¯d loved science fiction stories since childhood, but he¡¯d never imagined a world where his daydreams could become reality. This must be a dream, right? He willed his brain to wake up, expecting to find his cheek smashed into textbooks and the golden glow of a desk lamp above him.

    It didn¡¯t work. He lightly smacked his cheek. Nope, nothing. The realization sank in. Aliens are real.

    The president had continued speaking. Sam wrenched his attention back toward the screen. ¡°The proof is incontrovertible. An emissary has arrived. On Earth. The being . . . forgive me, he goes by the name Tar. Editor Tar, to use the title by which he calls himself.¡±

    She paused to take a sip of water. Cavernous silence engulfed the classroom. Sam gripped his desk, white-knuckled. This further revelation staggered him even more. Aliens as an abstract, distant concept? Sure. Everybody would lose their minds, but life as normal would go on. But a living, breathing one, who had already stepped foot on the same soil that Sam now occupied? Utterly and completely mind-boggling. His brain generated a million questions all at once. One swiftly rose to the top, flashing in giant red letters: are we all about to die?

    Sam¡¯s chest tightened as raw fear surged within him. He knew the drill. Within days, Earth would be ruined, patrolled by flying squids incinerating anything in their path. He¡¯d desperately search for his mother and sister, creeping through collapsed buildings and accompanied by a stray dog he¡¯d named Lucky.

    Be logical, Sam. If the alien wanted us dead, we¡¯d already be dead.

    His pulse slowed by a small amount, and he took a deep lungful of stale classroom air. The scene around him settled back into place. The president¡¯s brow had grown more furrowed and belied her steadfast tone. ¡°Editor Tar has committed no aggressive actions and assured us he means us no harm. He¡¯s asked for a forum through which to present himself, to all of humanity at once. After careful consideration by myself and other world leaders, we¡¯ve decided to grant his request. Please stand by.¡± The feed cut to black.

    Sam¡¯s pulse shot up again. He couldn¡¯t tell if he was excited or terrified¡ªmost likely a mixture of both. A new image appeared, and to Sam''s astonishment, rather than enormous flashing light devices set up to bridge the communication divide, the set of a morning talk show came into focus.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    On a chair, center stage, sat the alien.

    Okay. He doesn¡¯t look so bad. There were no tentacles. Or laser guns. Or tin robots with murderous grins.

    If anything, the alien looked deceptively human. He was humanoid in shape, with all the usual limbs and a recognizable assortment of facial features. His gunmetal-gray skin and hairless, ridged skull clearly marked him as not from Earth, but he¡¯d also dressed in human clothing: a tailored leather suit the color of wizened tree bark, as well as knee-high, silver-tipped snakeskin boots. A veritable (fashionable?) galactic cowboy.

    Sam¡¯s curiosity sparked. He knew shoes. Every extra penny he¡¯d scraped together went toward buying the latest style, for which his mother and sister gave him endless grief. These boots exuded extravagance. They hugged the alien¡¯s calves, dark and shapely. They told a story. Sam wanted to know what.

    As if noticing his gaze, the alien shifted and demurely crossed his legs. Sam shivered, the self-assured quality of the movement sending goose bumps down his spine.

    Tar¡¯s azure-colored eyes snapped to the camera. Sam held his breath in nervous anticipation.

    Tar lifted a gloved hand, palm forward. ¡°I¡¯ve been told to use the words ¡®Greetings, I come in peace,¡¯ but let me try something different. Hello. As your leaders have informed you, you may kindly call me Editor Tar. My home planet, Xarlogia, is thousands of light-years away. Thank you for welcoming me to your planet. It¡¯s a real thrill to be here and begin what I hope will be a deep, enriching relationship with your kind.¡± He spoke with no trouble, the timbre of his voice resonant and rich and full of vigor. The alien¡¯s words struck a chord in Sam¡¯s soul. His fear further dissipated.

    Tar glanced to his side as the well-known host of the show stepped onto the stage, then took a seat facing Tar. She wore a forced, if enthusiastic, smile and tilted her body backward more than looked natural.

    Tar moved the ends of his mouth in an upward curve. A smile. It suited his face well, smoothing out the sharpness of his bone structure. His black lips parted to reveal glimmering metallic teeth, like silver ore gleaming in a dark cave. Sam pictured himself rappelling down them, one tooth at a time.

    Tar gave a modest wave with one hand and held out the other. The host¡¯s smile slipped. She froze, gears visibly turning within her mind. Tar kept his hand outstretched, firmly in position. At last, the host lifted her own arm, and the two exchanged a perfunctory handshake. After, she splayed her fingers out and examined them but then noticed what she was doing and quickly clasped her hands in her lap.

    Sam exhaled noisily. Trial passed. He found it curious the alien had initiated the handshake. He¡¯d prepared for this encounter.

    The host invited Tar to share his story. How did he come to find Earth? What was the purpose of his visit? Sam eagerly anticipated the answers, like nothing in his life before.

    Tar grinned broadly and turned in his chair to face the camera. ¡°Oh, I happened to be in the neighborhood. Granted, a couple dozen light-years away, but I found the myriad of signals your planet broadcasts intriguing. I couldn¡¯t help but listen in, and I quickly developed a deep and abiding affection for your species. You live such vibrant lives, facing down difficult choices at every turn, but always remaining proud and resilient. You as a people are bold and determined and clearly hunger for advancement. In my assessment, you are a civilization destined for greatness.¡±

    He extended an open palm out and moved it across the screen. ¡°I never wavered in my decision to approach Earth. I will help your world progress however I can. It should serve as no surprise that there¡¯s quite the universe out there awaiting you. I know the value of a guide that can ensure that Earth remains protected and prosperous as you take further steps into exploring the great beyond.¡±

    He pointed up, as if to the heavens, and Sam could see it all in front of him. Humanity answering its calling to live among the stars. Tar standing proudly at their side, the benevolent alien uncle. It was an inviting image.

    Tar stood and gently opened his jacket, as if to forestall the audience¡¯s concern about mysterious objects in coats. He pulled out two small items. ¡°To demonstrate my good faith, let me show you a little of what I bring with me.¡±

    In his right hand, he held a long, thin glass cylinder. Sam squinted. A champagne flute?

    Tar lightly tapped the stem. Golden liquid began to rise from the bottom. From nowhere. Once filled, he handed the glass to the host. She swirled it, pursing her lips, then took a sip. A second ticked by before she gave a more relaxed smile and exclaimed that it tasted wonderful.

    Tar nodded approvingly. He then held out the second object, a toy-sized spinning wheel. Yellow straw rested on the spindle. With a flick of his finger, the wheel whirred, and the straw spun and disappeared. In its place, a filament of gold emerged.

    Sam gasped, echoed by others in the classroom. A fairy tale come to life.

    Tar took a theatrical bow, evidently not held back by the lack of in-person audience. Sam caught a hint of a calculating expression on the visitor¡¯s face. It wasn¡¯t a difficult leap to speculate that Tar made this demonstration with the specific purpose of appealing to humanity¡¯s aspirations of wealth and extravagance. He was planting the seeds. What was this all a prelude to?

    Tar handed the gold thread to the host, who held it aloft, her eyes widened in shock. ¡°I must say, humanity inspires me. Even with your species being as young as you are, you have cultivated such a rich abundance of culture and lore.¡± He pointed to the items held by the host. ¡°These are only but baubles. More to come, I promise.¡±

    Tar returned to his chair. He stroked his chin, looking more subdued, except for the spark in his deep-set eyes. ¡°There is one additional avenue of cooperation which I¡¯d like to mention.¡±

    Sam tensed. Here it comes.

    ¡°I come from an intergalactic body called the Liberated Collective. My role as Editor is to select and sponsor individuals to compete in a prestigious intergalactic fighting competition. It would be my absolute pleasure to bestow this honor upon a few handpicked members of your species. I can only take on a small group, but I vow to fully support these future champions so that they might earn riches and rewards and help usher Earth into its new era. I look forward to initiating my recruitment drive soon.¡±

    Sam flinched in surprise, his suspicions subsiding. That actually sounds . . . amazing. The thought of outer space filled him with a mixture of awe and yearning. Could he be part of that vanguard, one of the first humans to journey into the final frontier?

    Reality sank in. That was an easy one. Impossible. Even if I were chosen, I can¡¯t leave.

    The alien stood and made his exit, flanked by Secret Service. A cavalcade of news anchors, pundits, and politicians appeared after, all expressing various degrees of shock and disbelief. Not one suggested that Tar represented a hostile threat.

    Sam¡¯s attention drifted as he tried to sort through the morning¡¯s heavy assortment of emotions. Tar wasn¡¯t what he expected¡ªand it seemed everybody else agreed. He looked around and observed that his classmates appeared relaxed, excited even. Tar had capably put his captivated viewers around the world at ease. Sam wondered what to make of it all. Especially those boots.

 2. Tea

    Sam drove the ball between his legs, pivoted, and ducked underneath the guard¡¯s outstretched arms. He pushed the ball up and out with a quick thrust of his hand. Swish. The movement came easy to him.

    His teammates swarmed him and clapped him on the back. He raised his fist in a victory pump, and they all let loose a raucous cheer. A few of the opposing team¡¯s players grumbled in irritation, but most shook their heads ruefully, acknowledging a hard-fought game.

    With the match over and the sun dipping below the horizon, everybody dispersed for home. Still exhilarated and reveling in a level of freedom he rarely experienced anymore, Sam chose to take the long way home.

    Meandering down the main street of his small suburb, he noticed a group of people standing in front of the community center. They¡¯d arrayed themselves in a half-circle, hands gesticulating and voices raised in the high tones of excitement. His curiosity piqued, Sam veered in their direction.

    As he drew closer, their object of interest came into sight and Sam discerned the source of their enthusiasm. A large colorful poster hung from the wall, announcing the arrival of a new store downtown. The advertisement promised phones, appliances, and a host of other gadgets featuring the latest in thrilling Xarlogic tech.

    Tar occupied the center of the poster and wore a gold suit that made his teeth shine. He extended both hands to the colorful array of goods surrounding him.

    In the eight months since Tar¡¯s arrival on Earth, his branded stores and their manufacturing hub counterparts had spread across the globe like wildfire. They were widely celebrated for bringing jobs, economic development, and community revitalization. Government officials from every known jurisdiction ruthlessly competed to secure the next one. It was both highly impressive and deeply concerning, but Sam had other things to worry about.

    And yet here the alien was, right on his doorstep. Sam hadn¡¯t expected Tar¡¯s budding commercial empire to arrive anytime soon. He lived in a depressed area that politicians disregarded. The question of why here tugged on him. Win would surely have some insight. He¡¯d ask him later.

    Sam reached the corner diner at the end of the road. Through the front window, he spotted his sister, Nadia, speaking to a table full of guests. She wore her standard waitress uniform and had a pen and notepad in hand. Like him, she was tall and lanky, and had thick, dark hair; those who met them easily guessed they were siblings.

    Unlike Sam, though, she knew how to work a crowd. He felt a twinge of joy at the big smiles her infectious energy generated. The tip money she earned always went a long way.

    Not wanting to distract her, Sam zipped ahead, making a few turns while navigating his neighborhood. He reached a wide avenue, once having served as a busy highway, and arrived at a dated, Tetris block-shaped, squat building. A metal pole topped by an empty signboard stood out front, the rusting reminder of the building¡¯s storied past. A couple of decades ago, it had been converted from a motel to apartments¡ªnot long before Sam and his family moved in.

    He sometimes leaned on the rickety handrail and imagined the motel during its heyday. He saw a constant whir of cars coming and going, families spilling in and out of their rooms, and children playing in the now-dilapidated pool. No matter its present, the former motel still served as a monument to familial happiness. It gave him comfort.

    An evening wind picked up as he climbed the stairs to the second level. He gave a gentle rap on the door to his mother¡¯s room. Only hearing the quiet hum of the evening in return, he took out the key and eased inside.

    Even with the shades drawn and the cooler evening temperature, the air hung heavy and stifling. A glance at the thermostat confirmed the heat had been raised to the max. A petite figure occupied a sliver of the bed, still and silent.

    He crept over to the connecting door that led to the room he shared with Nadia. As he reached to grasp the handle, his phone vibrated on his hip, and because he¡¯d forgotten to silence it, the opening notes of the Space Jam theme began to blare. He stifled a groan of exasperation. He knew better than to be so careless.

    As he fumbled to turn the sound off, his mother, Sara, coughed and started to move. She paused when she spotted his dark outline. ¡°Sam, is that you?¡±

    He couldn¡¯t suppress his trademark sheepish grin. ¡°Sorry, Ma. Didn¡¯t mean to wake you.¡±

    She pulled herself up and looked him over before frowning. ¡°Were you playing basketball? I thought you were meeting with your tutor.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, Ma, I did. That was five hours ago. You¡¯ve been sleeping all day.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡±

    He squinted at her. ¡°How are you feeling?¡±

    She looked up, considering. ¡°Same as usual. Tired, weak. Not looking forward to my appointment later this week.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t want me to come too? We both know Nadia struggles getting you up and down the stairs.¡±

    She shook her head. ¡°No, your sister took time off specifically so she could do this. You need to study. You can¡¯t be worrying about me during finals.¡±

    ¡°You know that¡¯s not how it works, right? I¡¯m always worrying about you.¡±

    She reached up to take his hand into hers, the touch of her skin like rough paper. ¡°My son, my beautiful, precious son, please, I¡¯m asking you to do me this favor. Concentrate on passing this test, so you can start your new job without any trouble. You deserve to start your adult life on as good a note as possible.¡± She squeezed his hand tightly. ¡°We don¡¯t want the accounting firm to withdraw its offer because you didn¡¯t pass your final semester classes. Your focus right now needs to be on yourself. Don¡¯t concern yourself with me.¡±

    Sam cast his eyes down, unwilling to meet her gaze. This was all he¡¯d thought about these past few weeks. He¡¯d arrived at a precarious moment, and the stress had been driving him crazy. Full-time employment would mean he could pay for health insurance for his mother. It would mean they could free themselves from depending on distant relatives to ship them cheap medicine from abroad. And best of all, they could stop frequenting the one free clinic downtown, requiring a long bus ride and sitting in a crowded waiting room full of sick people.

    His mother didn¡¯t see it that way. She urged him to graduate and then begin his own life. She supported his efforts to land this job because she thought that was what he wanted. But the reality hung heavy over Sam that a single bad episode could lead to a hospital bill they couldn¡¯t afford. That worry threatened to crush Sam, turn him into an indiscriminate piece of dust and kick him to the curb.

    ¡°Yes, Ma. You¡¯re right.¡±

    ¡°Of course I am. Really hear me now though. I can see those thoughts in your head. I want you to succeed for you. That is what counts¡ªwhat makes this all worth it.¡± His mother made a shooing movement with her hands. ¡°Now go, leave me to rest.¡±

    She made it sound simple. But why would his own life matter if he¡¯d failed his mother? The question almost escaped him, but he clenched his mouth shut. Don¡¯t make this harder on her than it is already. He hid his look of resignation and hurried for the adjoining door.

    #

    Early the next morning, Sam woke to the dulcet tones of his sister¡¯s snoring. Ugh, make it stop. He caught himself mid-pillow throw, recalling that she¡¯d stayed late to close out the diner. She deserved the sleep. I need a job just to afford my own room. A little extra motivation for the day, as if he needed it.

    He took pains to noiselessly get ready, putting on his usual studying outfit of loose sweatpants and an oversize sweatshirt. He pocketed a loose banana from the kitchenette and let himself out.

    Spring had provided a gloriously fresh, dewy morning, so he decided to skip riding the bus and take a leisurely stroll instead. He let his mind wander, eager to enjoy some time during which he didn¡¯t have to think. A true treat.

    His college¡¯s squat, red-bricked library hummed with activity, but he eventually located an empty desk and unloaded his seemingly endless pile of textbooks. The usual assortment, all necessary for the advanced accounting courses he¡¯d committed to as a condition for his job offer.

    He had a final that afternoon, and despite having prepared for it extensively over the past few weeks, a feeling of dread coiled in his stomach.

    He detested having the ground so unsteady underneath him. A year ago, he¡¯d thought he¡¯d figured it all out. While never exactly an academic slouch, his real passion lay with playing competitive basketball. He poured his heart into becoming the best player possible. It paid off. By his junior year, he¡¯d made captain of the college team and attracted the notice of a couple of professional scouts.

    He didn¡¯t care about the glory, though he¡¯d be lying if he said it didn¡¯t come with perks. He cared about the opportunity to make money, so he could take care of his mother for the rest of her life. That was what motivated him to wake up at five in the morning every day to practice, to endure the hostile crowds at away games, to take on a mentor role with the other players. Not himself. His family.

    Which was why everything got so much worse with the arrival of his senior year. While sitting in the stands at one of his games, his mom collapsed. After a few days in the hospital that he could now barely remember, she was diagnosed with chronic heart disease. Treatable, but a lifelong condition, meaning she¡¯d either need advanced medicine, which they couldn¡¯t afford, or round-the-clock care.

    Sam quit the basketball team the next day.

    He took on a part-time job working as the team¡¯s equipment manager and switched his minor in accounting to be his major. When not looking after his mother, he spent every spare moment he could studying and working, with the occasional pick-up game whenever he couldn¡¯t take it anymore.

    He¡¯d known he was biting off more than he could chew but figured if he just threw himself into everything without abandon, then it would all work out. Of course it hadn¡¯t¡ªthe balance had proved way too difficult. He¡¯d come perilously close to failing his midterms. He¡¯d came home, looked in the mirror, and watched as the word failure branded into his forehead, his unkempt hair doing little to cover it. He¡¯d avoided the mirror for a few days after that.

    Desperate and willing to put his pride aside, he¡¯d made the decision to seek outside help. One of his professors came through with a recommendation.

    ¡°You should ask Win. He¡¯s an excellent tutor, and I happen to know he has an opening for a new student right now.¡±

    Sam scratched the back of his head. ¡°Who¡¯s Win?¡±

    The professor threw him a questioning look. ¡°You know, he sits behind you, answers most of my questions . . .¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah, that guy. Didn¡¯t he set the curve on the midterm?¡±The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    The professor smiled. ¡°I guess word gets around. He left a stack of flyers by the door if you want to take one.¡±

    The idea of having a tutor who knew of him already¡ªand likely had expectations of the kind of person he was¡ªhadn¡¯t exactly thrilled Sam. But a few days of unproductive studying later and he gave in and made the call. The two met at this same library, in a quiet corner where Win usually set up camp. The tutor had a lean frame and sat on the edge of his chair. He wore a pair of trendy glasses in front of his chestnut brown eyes and tied his long, black hair into a ponytail. He dressed smartly, wearing tan slacks and a colorful, collared shirt. He projected a knowledgeable conviction, and after talking through what Sam needed (all the help he could get?), it seemed like he¡¯d be in good hands. Sam felt a sliver of hope for the first time in ages. Then the conversation took a turn.

    ¡°I have to say though, I was surprised to hear from you,¡± Win said, peering at him.

    Win¡¯s frank curiosity made Sam fidget a little. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    Win¡¯s expression had an air of innocent thoughtfulness. ¡°It¡¯s meant as a compliment. You don¡¯t seem like the type of person to ask for help. I mean, you¡¯re captain of the basketball team, correct?¡±

    That question was exactly what Sam feared. His chest tightened, and he inhaled sharply. ¡°Was. Not anymore. Sorry . . . it¡¯s a sore subject.¡±

    Win winced. ¡°Oh, sorry. I didn¡¯t realize¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Sam cut in. He stared at the blank wall behind them, annoyed with his own defensiveness. Now he¡¯d made the tutor pity him, which was even worse. He made to stand. ¡°Maybe this isn¡¯t a good idea. I¡¯m not sure if I¡¯ll be the easiest to tutor.¡±

    Win reached out to stop him. ¡°Wait. It¡¯s on me. I should know by now to be more tactful with my students, but it¡¯s hard to turn the analytical side of my brain off sometimes.¡± He mimed gently knocking the side of his head, then gave Sam an earnest smile. ¡°Forget I asked. But I¡¯ll just say I¡¯m pretty good at solving problems, if you ever have the need to talk.¡±

    Sam took a breath and relaxed back into the chair. He needed to be smart about this and not screw up his chance at getting the support he needed. Besides, Win¡¯s offer was unexpectedly touching and maybe not wholly unwelcome. He¡¯d had few people to talk to since leaving the team. ¡°Thanks, I might take you up on that.¡±

    Win nodded and pushed a book across the table. ¡°Great. Should we get started?¡±

    ¡°Wait, what? I thought this was just an introduction.¡±

    ¡°Well, now that that¡¯s taken care of, I¡¯ve got a lesson plan ready. Come on, show me what you¡¯ve got.¡±

    Sam groaned and reluctantly pulled out his study notes.

    The school year had passed by quickly from there, and his initial misgivings aside, Sam found himself grateful he had made the choice to reach out to Win. The tutor was both patient and understanding and seemed to have an abundance of time with which to help Sam. He even went above and beyond his tutor responsibilities and helped with reviewing Sam¡¯s resume and job applications. When Sam received the job offer, Win was the first person he called. It was nice to have a friend.

    #

    This morning, Win walked up with a clear air of distraction. He wore a wrinkled sweater, dark circles were under his eyes, and his hair hung loosely around his head.

    Sam looked in puzzlement at Win¡¯s disheveled state. The tutor typically ran his life like clockwork. ¡°What¡¯s up? Something on your mind?¡±

    ¡°Right, you could say that. You know how Tar announced his recruiting session started a couple weeks ago?¡±

    Sam chuckled. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m aware. To great fanfare, as always.¡±

    Win smiled weakly. ¡°Yes, well, a cube appeared on my doorstep yesterday.¡±

    Sam¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°Hold up. You¡¯re lying. You¡¯re being recruited?¡± There was no way somebody he knew would be selected by the Editor. It was like winning the lottery. With worse odds.

    Win¡¯s cheeks burst, and he let out a mouthful of air. ¡°I can¡¯t say for sure. I haven¡¯t activated the cube yet. I couldn¡¯t open it at home, not with my grandparents around. It could still be something else? I heard they¡¯re hiring for the new store downtown; maybe this is a flashy way of attracting people to go to the opening.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s a store advertisement, but sure. Where did you put it?¡±

    ¡°I have it with me now.¡± Win pointed to a lump in the front pocket of his jacket. His eyes were wide with a slightly manic look to them. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t distract from studying, but . . .¡±

    Sam took a big gulp of air. This will be interesting. ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s do it. Should we go find a study room then?¡±

    The two searched until they found a hidden room in a quiet part of the building. After they stepped inside, Sam locked the door and closed the blinds.

    Win furrowed his brow. ¡°Do you think that¡¯s necessary? People are accustomed to Xarlogic tech now.¡±

    Sam shook his head. ¡°Yeah, but everybody will want to know what it is or take pictures. Who knows how long it would take until some nefarious government agency finds you?¡±

    ¡°Paranoid but probably accurate.¡± Win reached into his jacket to pull out the cube. It was completely opaque, not unlike the color of space. There were no obvious buttons. ¡°Thoughts on how to activate it?¡±

    ¡°Try putting your fingerprint on it or something.¡±

    But before Win could do so, the cube launched itself out of his grip, causing Win to yelp. Floating in the air, it stopped in the exact middle of the room. It let out a gentle hum and, without warning, emitted a cascade of piercingly bright lights that illuminated every corner and crevice.

    Sam flinched and threw an arm in front of his eyes. ¡°Ow. My eyes. What was that?¡± Sam pulled his arm down a fraction, just enough to see the cube had calmed down, though it still whirred with activity. ¡°The Editor could have warned us. I¡¯m seeing spots.¡±

    A surprisingly human-sounding, melodious voice sounded out from the cube. ¡°Denizen of Earth, confirm your identity to proceed.¡±

    Sam¡¯s pulse quickened, and he turned his gaze to Win, whose face had turned white. ¡°So, it¡¯s probably what you think it is.¡±

    Win stared at the cube as though it was about to explode. ¡°Right. I just utter my name and my life will change?¡±

    ¡°You can still say no. The Editor was clear on that point. We have to volunteer.¡± Sam twisted his mouth. ¡°Though for all we know, he just kidnaps people and then tells everybody that they agreed.¡±

    Win chuckled darkly. ¡°Finally, we have an explanation for random UFO abductions.¡±

    Sam nodded, half serious, half in jest. ¡°Exactly, but he got tired of sneaking around.¡±

    Win snickered, then tapped his chin. ¡°Okay, but in truth, you might have a point. This could very well be a trick of some sort. He¡¯s asking us to take a leap of faith here.¡±

    Sam scratched his head. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s part of it? He needs to find people who are willing to go to space on nothing but his word. Anybody overly cautious would probably walk away at this point.¡±

    Win gave him an appreciative nod. ¡°That¡¯s a good insight. All right, we¡¯ve established that I likely want to do this, so here goes nothing. Ready?¡± He squared himself with the cube, patted his chest and dropped his voice an octave lower. ¡°Anurak ¡®Win¡¯ Suparat.¡±

    The cube¡¯s hum intensified, and it started to rotate. It picked up speed, becoming a blur of movement. Sam held his breath. If this thing explodes¡ªdeath by spinny cube, what an epitaph.

    The cube folded in on itself and disappeared with a pop. A transparent screen noiselessly appeared in its place. It neatly bisected the room, leaving Sam and Win standing on opposite sides. Pixels formed and chased each other on the screen.

    Quickly, the image sharpened, revealing a familiar visage: Editor Tar. He appeared so realistic and three-dimensional that Sam stumbled back a step.

    When seeing Tar previously on the flat screen of the television, Sam thought he looked like a piece of jewelry, metallic and sparkling. The effect multiplied now seeing him up close and breathing. He¡¯d even brushed his skin with a hint of lustrous gold.

    An inalienable (Sam gave himself extra points for the pun) fact: Tar could never not stand out in a crowd. He was the main attraction.

    The Xarlogic was facing Win. ¡°Greetings, human. You have been given the great honor of being selected to serve as a champion of humanity in the galaxy¡¯s largest arena, Starlit Arena.¡± He spoke robotically, as if a recording. ¡°Should you accept my offer, which I have no doubt you will, you will receive training and resources that will enable you to reach heights never seen before by your species. Here, drink this tea in order to bear witness to the limitations you currently labor under. I guarantee that you¡¯ll see the world in a whole new way.¡±

    Tar gestured to the air, and a mug apparated into existence onto the table. Like the champagne and the gold thread, the Xarlogic apparently had a talent for materializing objects. Curls of steam rose from the clear liquid inside.

    The rote speech continued. ¡°You will have twenty-four hours from now to report to the nearest one of my stores. They¡¯ll know your name. You are one of the chosen few, a human truly worthy of ascending to the universe¡¯s biggest stage. Don¡¯t waste this priceless opportunity. You¡¯d live to regret it.¡±

    Tar pirouetted theatrically but stopped mid-twirl. The image hiccupped. Tar now stood in place, his gaze fixed on Sam. A calculating look crossed his face, even as his azure eyes sparkled with glee. After a moment, the Xarlogic smiled.

    His tone now had more life to it. ¡°How fortunate! The gentleman in front of me also shows great promise. I¡¯d encourage him to also think about joining. Simply pass our entrance exam and you will become champions together.¡±

    Tar gave a deep bow, and the image flickered out.

    Sam gawked at Win, and the expression was returned. His heart pounded in his chest.

    ¡°He wants us to drink tea?¡± Win asked, eyebrows stretching to the top of his forehead.

    ¡°He recruited me too?¡± Sam whispered at the same time.

    #

    Five minutes had gone by, and the tea still sat in place, now noticeably cooler.

    Sam¡¯s crossed arms rested on his chest. ¡°There¡¯s no way I¡¯m sharing it with you. Tar might come back and zap me. He didn¡¯t actually say I could have some.¡±

    Win steepled his fingers. ¡°But he didn¡¯t say you couldn¡¯t try it either.¡±

    Sam frowned at the mug. ¡°I suppose, but anyways, there¡¯s only one cup. How about you try it first?¡±

    Win reached into his backpack and pulled out a Thermos bottle. ¡°I¡¯ll pour some into here. That way we can try it at the same time. I can see the curiosity brimming in your eyes. Come on, join me.¡± He waggled the bottle in Sam¡¯s direction.

    ¡°And here I was thinking you were the responsible one. Look, I should get going. I don¡¯t want to be late for the test.¡± Sam picked up his bag and inched toward the door. Win stayed silent, a small smile flitting across his face. Sam sighed in resignation and returned to the table.

    Win gingerly picked up the cup, then carefully poured some in the bottle. Nothing about the tea changed.

    ¡°I guess that didn¡¯t ruin it?¡± Sam asked.

    ¡°Looks fine to me. Only one way to find out,¡± Win said.

    He handed the cup to Sam, who grimaced but took it from him. He held it at arm¡¯s length. It¡¯d be stupid to drink it. Imagine telling a doctor that alien tea was the cause of my ailment. He¡¯d be laughed out of the building.

    Still . . . if he was being honest, he did badly want to know what about the tea could conceivably entice people to join the Xarlogic. To leave their whole lives behind. To reach new ¡°heights,¡± whatever that meant.

    Plus, the worst that could happen was that he¡¯d die horrifically, and his mother and sister would win the first lawsuit against an alien. The payout would set them up for life. All of life¡¯s problems solved in an instant, no?

    Morbid even for you, Sam.

    The concoction beckoned. Screw it. He threw the tea to the back of his throat and swallowed. Win didn¡¯t hesitate to follow suit. The flavor evoked French toast, one of Sam¡¯s favorite foods. The taste of butter and syrup glided down his throat.

    Sam clenched his stomach muscles, waiting for something to happen. It took a second, but then . . . the world blossomed. He lacked the words to describe it fully. Lines and waves spread out, surrounding him and moving in complex patterns. Some stood still, deep and murky, etched in place. Others floated by him, a bare whisper, disappearing into the unknown. Getting lost in these patterns gave him immense pleasure, like he¡¯d tapped into a new sense.

    Full of wonder, Sam sharpened his concentration. His perception stretched further. A slow, massive grind in the ground beneath him. Heat gushed from the ceiling lights and danced on his shoulders. Warmth that left him as he exhaled, replaced by coolness that he simultaneously inhaled. He couldn¡¯t parse the word exactly to describe these additional phenomena but settled on energy as the closest description.

    Ouch. Pressure descended on the back of his brain. He took a step back and almost tripped over his chair, knocking it over. The sound of the chair hitting the ground created a chord of discord that sent the lines bounding off in different directions. One grazed his backside, fervid and lancing like he¡¯d touched an oven burner, and the pain caused him to flop forward onto the table. He barely caught himself with his elbows before smashing his face.

    Enough, no more please. He squeezed his eyes shut until he knew for sure the tea¡¯s influence had worn off. He lifted his head and looked around to confirm. Ugh. It was like was being hollowed out from the inside, the way he felt after a bad night¡¯s sleep.

    Win stood over him, eyebrows curved down in distress and his mouth agape. ¡°What happened to you?¡±

    #

    Tar shifted from the projection back to his physical body, located hundreds of miles away. A tingling sense of pleasure spread throughout his limbs. He¡¯d executed the start of his plan to perfection.

    Would I ever expect any different? This moment represented the culmination of millennia of effort. Now, all came to a head as he¡¯d scoured the planet. His search algorithms had carefully screened for recruits with both exceptional latent talent and the right psychological profile. Going in, he¡¯d tried to keep his expectations low. Stumbling onto Earth had been an act of merciful luck. A massive population with a propensity for conflict? Glorious. Even accounting for the costs of centuries of the required societal manipulation, he¡¯d reap a fortune no matter what. But please, oh disgraced, fallen Ebulon, give me what I want.

    At first, adequate results. Decent even, if not the pie in the sky he¡¯d sought after. Then, to his delightful surprise, when he¡¯d just about resigned himself to moving on, two gems sprang into view. A brother and a sister. Wonderfully yin and yang in their temperaments; perfectly so, as it increased the likelihood that one would reach ascension. Oh yes, The Path has blessed me. They would sprout and grow under his watchful eye. Then, their dazzling success on the galactic stage would become his.

    His enemies¡ªand there were a lot, he was the first to admit¡ªwouldn¡¯t see it coming. Their downfall would be swift.

    Of course, prizes such as these required careful handling. These past six months, he¡¯d carefully engineered a scenario to lead them to his doorstep. Tar rubbed his hands in anticipation. Within the next day or two, he¡¯d have exactly what he wanted.

 3. Choice

    Ten minutes later, Sam hurriedly packed his things and sped out of the library, eyes glued to his watch. He had twenty minutes to make it across campus for his final.

    He picked up the pace and settled in a light jog, trepidation percolating through him. He put his legs on autopilot and let his thoughts drift back to the events of the past couple of hours. Win had curiously been fine, if still shaky from the tea experience. Sam couldn¡¯t make sense of why Win had a less severe reaction. They¡¯d compared notes, and the only theory Sam could derive was that he¡¯d experienced a larger assortment of new sensations and information. It was like learning to swim. He¡¯d unwittingly jumped into the deep end.

    ¡°Maybe I¡¯m defective. Or my brain isn¡¯t as big as yours and it can¡¯t handle . . . whatever that was,¡± Sam reasoned as the two packed their bags.

    Win let out a low laugh. ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s it. There are plenty of things you¡¯re smarter than me about.¡± He scratched his head. ¡°You could just be extra sensitive to the tea¡¯s effects. But we¡¯d have to discuss with Tar to understand.¡±

    Sam pressed his lips together. ¡°I guess. But as unusual and interesting as that was, I¡¯m not sure I¡¯m buying what Tar¡¯s selling. There¡¯s gotta be a catch to his spiel, right?¡±

    Win picked up the empty teacup and twirled it around his finger. ¡°Funny you should say that . . . because I¡¯m considering taking the offer.¡±

    Sam looked at Win, not bothering to hide the bewilderment from his expression. ¡°Seriously? You¡¯re okay with getting whisked away to who knows where?¡± He took a breath and adopted a calmer tone. ¡°You¡¯re the smartest person I know. And you¡¯ve already been accepted to law school. Why give that up?¡±

    Win¡¯s eyebrows were drawn, but his eyes lit up with an unexpected fiery passion. ¡°That¡¯s exactly why I want to go. My path has been set since the day I was born. My grandparents remind me every day of the dreams my parents had for me. They¡¯re the only family I have left, and I love them dearly, but I will never be able to live up to those types of expectations. I don¡¯t want to abandon the idea of being a lawyer entirely, but I . . . need a break. The chance to try something different. Then I¡¯ll know for sure.¡±

    Sam sympathized. It wasn¡¯t like he knew with certainty he wanted to be an accountant. It just seemed like the logical direction to take. Still, he felt compelled to make sure Win had thought this through fully. ¡°Do we ever really know for sure? I thought you were excited for law school?¡±

    Win rested his back against the wall. ¡°I am. I was. But that was yesterday, before all this.¡± He gestured haphazardly with the mug, sending the last droplet onto the carpet. ¡°I can¡¯t say why exactly Tar picked me, but it came at the right time.¡±

    ¡°What about the rest of your life here? Ready to put all that on pause?¡± Sam had a dim sense of awareness that he was asking himself as much as he was Win, but he dismissed the thought as pointless.

    Win shook his head in dismissal. ¡°What life? All I¡¯ve done is either study or tutor the past four years. There¡¯s not much keeping me here.¡±

    Sam winced, but he understood the sentiment behind Win¡¯s words. Life had lost its . . . flavor lately, the little joys that counterbalanced the never-ending pressure. ¡°Okay, I hear you. Last question then. What about the risks involved? Like entering into an agreement with a self-absorbed alien. Or the fact that space is pretty terrifying? It¡¯s clear now that we have no idea what¡¯s out there.¡±

    Win tilted his head in thought. ¡°Truth be told, that¡¯s what interests me most. Figuring out what makes a being like Tar tick will be fascinating. Plus, the chance to be explorers, the ones who make discoveries and pave the way for everybody else.¡± His eyes blazed. ¡°We¡¯d be going where no one has gone before. I know that sounds corny, but so what? It¡¯s a thrilling prospect.¡±

    Sam checked the clock. Almost time to go. ¡°Well, you¡¯ve got me. I surrender. You¡¯re braver than I am, and I can¡¯t wait to hear all about it.¡±

    ¡°You say that, but wouldn¡¯t it be better if we both go? I need somebody to watch my back. You know at some point we¡¯d get stuck on a derelict ship and be forced to outwit an alien trying to hunt us down. I don¡¯t want to have to find an escape pod on my own, Sam.¡± Win gave him a lighthearted glare.

    Sam laughed. To see the normally deadpan Win so enthusiastic almost made a dent in Sam¡¯s resolve to eschew the alien¡¯s offer. ¡°You¡¯re really selling it.¡± He sighed. ¡°Putting aside my concerns about trusting Tar, the reality is that I can¡¯t leave my family behind.¡±

    ¡°I know, I understand. But if your mother found out you were recruited by the Editor, from what I know about her, she¡¯d be the first one to push you out the door.¡± Win raised his eyebrows to emphasize his point.

    ¡°Which is why I can¡¯t tell her about this. Without me, everything would fall on Nadia, and I don¡¯t want to do that to her.¡± No matter what else, Sam would always strive to be a good son. And brother. ¡°So, while I wish I could make this leap with you, it¡¯s not happening.¡±

    #

    Sam willed the conversation to the back of his head. He had more pressing issues to deal with right now.

    He¡¯d pulled open the nondescript door of the exam room, arriving with a minute to spare. But as he did so, his phone issued another insistent vibration. This time, a text from Nadia. He immediately grew concerned since she almost never texted him while at work.

    The block of text covered the whole screen. I know I shouldn¡¯t be texting you right now, but I¡¯m seriously worried about Ma. Before I left for work, she was slurring her words and could barely move. I can¡¯t get it out of my head that she¡¯s in worse shape than normal. My boss said if I leave, he¡¯ll fire me. Sam, I¡¯m worried. What should we do?

    Damn. Damn. Damn. If he left now, there was no guarantee the college would grant him a makeup test. What choice did he have really? His mother would be furious if he didn¡¯t stay and complete the exam. But it¡¯s not that easy, Ma. What good is passing a test if you need my help?

    Sam buried the thought away, then braced himself and walked through the doorway. The professor looked up at him and glanced over at the clock, the message clear.

    His legs kept him moving, and he dropped into the back corner desk, then buried his face in his hands and silently screamed every curse word he could think of.

    #

    Sam¡¯s pen fell from his fingers with a clatter. He let out a soft groan. He¡¯d barely scribbled answers to the last few questions. A tangled mess of guilt and dismay wormed its way through his body.

    The other students packed up their things and shuffled over to the professor¡¯s desk to drop off their tests. Sam stayed motionless in his chair and stared out the window. The room emptied. The professor coughed discreetly.

    ¡°Oh, sorry, sorry.¡± He pictured telling the professor what had happened, but no words came to mind. He hated the idea of making an excuse. He¡¯d messed up, and only he could bear the blame. But why did he have to screw up now?

    On his way to the bus stop, he labored to keep his emotions from boiling over. He needed to be fully present to handle whatever was waiting for him at home. Once he reached the motel apartment, he didn¡¯t bother to knock and opened the door right away. The darkness inside parted, chased away by the fulgent late-morning light. When he saw the bed empty, adrenaline surged through him, and he strode through the bedroom and the small kitchenette. He rounded the corner to the bathroom the three of them shared.

    The thin bathroom door was partially open, which didn¡¯t make sense. It swung open if not completely closed, leading to a host of embarrassing moments that the family had long ago learned to laugh about.

    Sam gently pushed against the door and felt resistance. He whispered, ¡°Ma? Are you in there?¡±

    No response.

    His heart pumped wildly. He hastily wedged his hand in through the gap and groped for the light switch. The light flickered on, and the top of his mother¡¯s head came into view, her hair scraggly and unwashed. She was bent forward, leaving the back of her neck exposed.

    Time stopped.

    His mother moaned.

    Oh, thank God. The tears that had been threatening Sam now became ones of relief. He knelt and hugged his mother¡¯s shoulders from behind. ¡°Ma! Are you okay? What are you doing here like this?¡±

    She grabbed his arm with a clammy, shaky hand. ¡°Sam. I had a dizzy spell and had to sit down.¡±

    ¡°A dizzy spell. That¡¯s new. How long ago? You¡¯re supposed to keep your phone with you wherever you go. Nadia texted me saying she couldn¡¯t get a hold of you after she left for work.¡± He unsuccessfully attempted to iron out the worry and frustration from his voice.

    His mother matched his tone with one of weary exasperation. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I dropped it. I needed to nap for a bit. Why did your sister text you? What if you saw it while you took your test? She knows better.¡±

    Sam let her go, and she shifted away from the door, allowing Sam to step in. He helped her stand up and amble over to her bed. He fluffed her pillows and held her hand as she eased her way in. She looked at him, waiting for him to speak.

    Sam sighed. ¡°She was just concerned. Don¡¯t worry about it.¡±

    His mother closed her eyes. ¡°So the test went well?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, it went super. Look, I need to get back to campus.¡± He picked up her phone from the floor and placed it on her nightstand. ¡°Your phone is right here. Don¡¯t forget it again. There¡¯s soup in the fridge and bread on the counter for dinner. I¡¯m not sure when I¡¯ll be back.¡±You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    ¡°Okay, son. Thanks for coming to help me but remember what I said. Your priority should be yourself.¡±

    Sam gritted his teeth. ¡°Of course, Ma. See you later.¡±

    He practically jogged for the exit, and as soon as he¡¯d closed the door as quietly as possible, he moved to the side, then sank against the wall. The staccato bumps of the stucco jabbed into his back.

    His heart still pounded at the thought of his mother¡¯s hunched body. What should he do? What could he do? Break into the professor¡¯s office and fix his test? Buy a lottery ticket? Go on national television and beg for help?

    Powerless. Helpless. The words swirled around his mind, dancing alongside failure.

    A fourth word joined the fray: tea. Sam did have another option. And everything he¡¯d told Win that morning had now gone out the window.

    #

    Sam swiped his bus pass to board the bus heading downtown. He grabbed the nearest strap to hold. Normally he liked to marvel at the quietness of the downtown bus¡¯s engine, fueled by highly efficient photovoltaic technology provided by who else but Tar. Now though, he remained wholly fixated on questioning the decision he was about to make.

    Can I really go through with this? His thinking went in circles and circles.

    He pulled out his phone to text. Win, I¡¯m going to the new store downtown. Wanna meet me there?

    The response came back right away. Are you sure? Is everything ok?

    Sam typed out an answer saying he was fine but deleted it. What good would that do? He instead wrote, No, not really.

    This time a minute went by before Win answered. Okay. I¡¯ll head over.

    Thirty minutes later and Sam gazed upon a glass storefront, covering his eyes from the neon strobe lights and flashing signs. The same Tar who wore snakeskin boots had clearly made his mark here as well.

    Somebody poked him in the back: Win, his face a mask of concern. Behind him stood another familiar figure. Nadia. She wore her usual waitress uniform of slacks and a polo shirt with the restaurant logo, her hair wrapped in a bun. Her hazel brown eyes held their usual irrepressible energy.

    ¡°Nadia! What are you doing here? How did you get out of work? Also . . .¡± Realization dawned on him. He pivoted to Win and narrowed his eyes. ¡°Do you two know each other?¡±

    Win had the nerve to look embarrassed. ¡°I should have told you this already, but a couple months ago, I was eating breakfast at the corner diner and your sister was my server. I recognized her and we talked.¡±

    ¡°You talked . . .¡±

    Nadia rolled her eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t be weird, Sam. We usually just talk about you.¡±

    ¡°You talk about me? What is there to talk about?¡± Sam responded, eyebrows lifted.

    Nadia put her hands on her hips. ¡°I don¡¯t know, maybe that you¡¯re a melodramatic crazy person who decides to roll up to the Xarlogic store in the middle of a Tuesday.¡±

    ¡°Crazy person¡ª¡± Sam started to say, his ears burning. His sister always knew how to push his buttons.

    Nadia cut him off. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. Since it was the second time today I told my boss my family was having a crisis, he gave up and told me I could go. I¡¯ll have to work a double shift this weekend, but it¡¯s not every day your older brother has a meltdown.¡±

    ¡°What the hell, Nadia. I¡¯m not having a meltdown.¡± His anger and anxiety crystalized into one. ¡°Part of the reason I¡¯m here is the text you sent me this morning. I couldn¡¯t concentrate during my final, and I¡¯m pretty sure I failed.¡±

    Win¡¯s shoulders dropped. Sam¡¯s anger retreated, replaced by guilt. He and Win had worked hard to prepare for that particular test. The tutor would take the news hard.

    Nadia bit her lip. ¡°Oh. I¡¯m sorry about that. I shouldn¡¯t have said anything. I just . . . had this feeling, you know?¡± Her voice cracked.

    Any residual anger deflated like a popped balloon. Sam reached out to pull her in for a hug. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I shouldn¡¯t have said that. You were right to be worried. I found her sleeping in the bathroom. It wasn¡¯t . . . great. I¡¯m not sure . . .¡± He paused and took a deep breath. ¡°I¡¯m starting to think she doesn¡¯t have much longer unless we get her serious treatment. That¡¯s the real reason I came.¡±

    ¡°What do you¡ª?¡± Music blared from the storefront, drowning out Nadia¡¯s question. A carpet rolled itself through the entrance and landed at their feet, accompanied by a plume of white smoke. From the den of noise and light emerged the tall, graceful figure of Editor Tar. In the flesh.

    A sharp intake of breath from Nadia. Despite having interacted with Tar just that morning, Sam began to quiver in nervous excitement. Here he was, meeting a real-life, full-fledged alien. He now belonged to an illustrious group of humans, made up of world leaders and heads of conglomerates.

    Tar had embellished his appearance, as usual. He wore a vibrant multicolor overcoat, and his black lips glistened with oil-like slickness. Light reflected off the gold dust covering his skin. The effect was disconcerting, as if Tar had stepped off the set of a glamorous photoshoot. Yet, his smile exuded warmth, bolstered by the humanlike quality of the wrinkles around his eyes.

    ¡°Welcome, my baby birds. How fortunate to have you here, only hours after we met.¡± Tar swept his hand toward them, bejeweled rings jangling. ¡°Please, come with me. We¡¯ll use the back entrance.¡±

    A small crowd had formed, and soon enough a flash went off. Sam considered making a run for it, but neither Nadia nor Win hesitated before moving in Tar¡¯s direction. He said a silent supplication to the sky and followed.

    #

    A solid slab of a metal door gave way to a barely lit hallway. Dim sconces lined gray brick walls. The sharp contrast dazed Sam.

    His eyesight adjusted, and a yellow glow fused into place at the end of the hall, beckoning them. The light came from a blank-walled conference room, possessing only a wafer-thin glass desk surrounded by scoop-shaped chairs.

    ¡°Take a seat, please.¡± Tar folded himself into a chair in a single movement.

    Sam clutched the slippery sides of the strange chair and maneuvered to match Tar¡¯s fluidity. He lost his grip and fell in with a plop. Seeing his failure, Nadia and Win managed to avoid the same embarrassment.

    Tar¡¯s welcoming smile remained unfazed. ¡°Well, well. What a welcome surprise. Mr. Suparat, you¡¯ve made your decision quickly. And you¡¯ve brought your friend. Mr. Azza, is it? Sam, yes? That makes you the sister, Nadia.¡±

    Sam blinked, dazed by the alien¡¯s familiarity. Should he be flattered or troubled that Tar knew their names? He settled for both.

    Tar¡¯s gaze swept over the three of them. The alien lingered for an extra second on Sam, and he repressed a shiver. From the moment Tar made his appearance, Sam had felt discombobulated. He searched for the right words to at least respond and introduce himself, but his mind spat out an unintelligible mess.

    His sister answered instead, uneasily clutching her hands. Any sign of nerves from Nadia was rare, so Sam took some comfort that he wasn¡¯t the only one feeling out of their element. ¡°That¡¯s right, Mr., uh, Editor. Can I ask how you know who we are already?¡±

    Tar turned to her and let his smile widen. ¡°Editor or Tar will do. Let¡¯s just say I have access to some very useful sources of information. Your government saw fit to ensure I have everything I need at my fingertips. I must applaud their thoughtfulness.¡±

    Sam¡¯s unease deepened. Outwardly, Tar sought to put them at ease by demonstrating the level of trust he¡¯d earned. But his words came with an underlying message: he knows everything.

    Tar spread his hands outward, palms up, as if to indicate that he¡¯d said all he could on the topic. The gesture showed that he¡¯d dispensed with the gloves he normally wore in public. His fingers were long and angular, but in place of a human¡¯s flat fingertips, his ended in small sharp claws. Sam recoiled before he could stop himself.

    Tar spotted Sam¡¯s reaction and chuckled. ¡°Wearing gloves during your summers is not practical, so please forgive the sight of my bare hands. I¡¯ve kept them hidden so as not to frighten the children.¡±

    He made the last remark with a hint of causticness, prompting Sam to wonder what a young Xarlogic looked like. He pictured toddlers waving talons about, scratching walls and breaking crayons, and then shook his head in dismay. That would be a nightmare. ¡°Oh. I understand. So about why we¡¯re here . . . it¡¯s because . . .¡± Dang it. He¡¯d practiced this.

    Tar waited a beat before he gave him a patient smile. ¡°I assume it¡¯s to sign up, yes? Did your glimpse into a new world enthrall you? Don¡¯t worry, you can take the entrance exam right here in the store. No need to go up to space just yet.¡± He ended with a knowing wink, which he might have meant innocently but instead underscored the seriousness of what he¡¯d said.

    Of course. Space. All of this would culminate in my leaving Earth. The mixture of panic and desperation Sam had been running on for the past few hours chose that moment to leave his body. He sank down into his chair. I need a second. Anything.

    Thankfully Win raised his hand, rescuing him. Sam shot him an appreciative glance.

    ¡°Before we proceed, we¡¯d like to know what exactly your role is? Who will you be to us?¡±

    Tar excitedly clapped his hands. ¡°Oh, good question. I¡¯m honored to serve as your lanista. That¡¯s a bit of Xarlogic for you.¡± He paused and studied them, as if waiting for a reaction. When none came, he continued, ¡°In this context, it means head of the academy, so to speak. I¡¯ll run the training program, but I will bring in assistance for your day-to-day instruction. We¡¯ll have great fun.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s . . . good to hear.¡± Win¡¯s tone betrayed some uncertainty. ¡°And once we¡¯ve been trained?¡±

    For the first time, Tar¡¯s cheerful expression faltered, if only briefly. ¡°The terms will be described in your employment contract, which I will share with you after you pass the exam. I¡¯ve reviewed human contract law. I don¡¯t think you¡¯ll find anything in the contract that won¡¯t be unfamiliar, but we can certainly discuss further.¡±

    Win placed his elbow on the table and stroked his chin; his patented ¡°I mean business¡± look that Sam knew all too well. ¡°Right. I¡¯m interested but I need some guarantees. I have obligations, such as that my tutoring students depend on me. Also, my grandparents would not accept if I left before finishing my final semester¡¯s classes. Are there any workarounds?¡±

    The alien¡¯s half-lidded eyes creased in sympathy. ¡°I understand. We all aspire to be dutiful children, in recognition of our forebears who have given us so much. You¡¯ll be happy to know that we¡¯ll employ an intersystem connection, allowing all of you to remain in touch with your loved ones. Win, that means you can finish your classes and continue with your tutoring. Though be aware that balancing these tasks will require serious dedication.¡±

    Win nodded in affirmation. ¡°I can handle the pressure.¡±

    ¡°As I would expect. Such intelligence, insightfulness, and appetite to learn. I can see why my algorithms spotted you.¡±

    Win blinked and even turned a bit pink, which amused Sam. It was a rare sight to see him taken aback.

    Tar turned to look at Sam and shook his head. ¡°But speaking of responsibilities, what about you, my friend? A sick mother who needs you, a career in the fine art of accounting awaits you, and not to mention a younger sister who doubtlessly looks up to you.¡± He winked at Nadia surreptitiously.

    Nadia made a noise of disgust and muttered, ¡°Please. He wishes.¡±

    Sam had mostly recovered from his earlier bout of anxiety and internally asserted his desire to make a better first impression. ¡°Those are the reasons I¡¯m here. I have to support my family.¡±

    Tar tilted his head and studied him. ¡°Will that be enough? You will encounter trials unlike you¡¯ve ever experienced before. You can¡¯t fight to not lose. If you truly want to win, you¡¯ll need to take chances, go beyond your limits. You must crave victory above all else.¡±

    The alien¡¯s words crested against Sam like a wave of acid, inflaming the bitterness that fermented inside him. These past months, he¡¯d lost touch with the mindset Tar described, that of a champion. A sense of loss over having lost an essential part of himself burned in his lungs. He missed his coach, who had been relentless in pushing Sam to practice self-improvement.

    Did Tar seek to fill that void? Tar¡¯s eyes bore into him. Sam recognized the danger inherent to that thought but still badly wanted to demonstrate his conviction. For some reason, the alien held him to a higher standard.

    He summoned as much resolve as he could. ¡°I¡¯m looking for a chance. If you provide that to me, you won¡¯t regret it.¡±

    Tar searched his face for a few silent long seconds. ¡°All right. I believe you. Remember though, there is no faltering where we will be going. I will be the one to pay for your shortcomings, and I do not collect debts. Do not forget that.¡±

    A shard of glass poked the inside of Sam¡¯s throat as he swallowed. ¡°I understand.¡±

    ¡°Still, that doesn¡¯t solve the problem in front of us. I can¡¯t let you join if you¡¯re going to spend your time anxiously worrying about your family. What do you propose?¡±

    This was Sam¡¯s opening. He mentally recalled the list of talking points he¡¯d prepared and opened his mouth, ready to assert himself.

    However, before he could do so, Nadia leaned forward in her chair. ¡°Editor, can I interrupt? I already have the solution. I¡¯d also like to sign up. In exchange, you¡¯re going to cure our mother. But first, can you explain what you did to persuade Win and Sam to come here? I know my brother, and something has clearly got him interested. I¡¯d like to know what it is.¡±

 4. Test

    Tar laughed mellifluously and stroked the topmost ridge of his head. ¡°I like this one. Bold. Let¡¯s address your question first. I am happy to tell you. I let them experience a small sliver of their greater potential. Or rather, I provided the opportunity to your friend Win here, who so generously shared my gift with another.¡±

    Win dipped his head. ¡°My apologies, Editor.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s forgiven.¡±

    Moon-eyed, Nadia moved her gaze to Sam.

    ¡°It¡¯s hard to explain,¡± Sam said.

    ¡°Since I¡¯m coming with you, you might as well fill me in.¡±

    Sam¡¯s stomach churned. This hadn¡¯t been the plan. He¡¯d come here in part to make his sister¡¯s life easier, and here she was running into the fire ahead of him.

    ¡°There¡¯s no way . . .¡± Nadia¡¯s expression darkened, and Sam stopped before restarting. ¡°Seriously, Nadia, first you have to be selected by Editor Tar, and besides that, somebody has to stay here to watch over Ma.¡±

    ¡°And you decided on your own that I¡¯ll be that person? But let¡¯s start with your first point. Mr. Editor, am I on your list?¡± She gave Tar her most hopeful and determined look, the full effect of which had affected Sam¡¯s decision-making many times. Many, many times.

    Tar tapped his chin with his alarming, clawed index finger. Sam kept his reaction in check this time. After a couple of seconds, the alien nodded and said, ¡°Yes. In fact, the algorithm had also pulled your file, but as I face certain restrictions by your government, I could take no further action. But since you¡¯ve come to me on your accord, we can put that concern aside.¡±

    Sam shrank back a measure. Had Tar intended to recruit Sam all along? His invitation to Sam in the library had come across as offhand, and during this conversation, he¡¯d given Sam a much harder time than he had Win. It didn¡¯t add up.

    Nadia nodded self-assuredly, the outcome never in doubt. ¡°All right, first problem out of the way. Now for the second. Mr. Editor, can you heal our mother?¡±

    Sam perked back up and put his misgivings on pause. If Tar could provide some sort of lifeline, anything, that could help his mother, Sam would take it in heartbeat. He rested his sweaty hands at his sides, hoping Tar would give them good news.

    The moment stretched out, taut with tension. Tar let out a deep sigh, his expression the picture of compassion. ¡°I¡¯m afraid not. I don¡¯t have that capability.¡±

    Sam clenched his hands into fists, the nails digging in. That¡¯s what he got for getting his hopes up.

    Nadia slumped in her chair, her eyes downcast. Sam fully realized that she¡¯d come on her own mission to help their family. He reached out to squeeze her arm, and she flashed a rueful half-smile in return.

    Tar rapped his desk with gusto, startling all of them. ¡°Fear not, all is not lost. If one or both of you succeeds in passing the exam and agrees to join me, I¡¯ll make sure your mother gets better medication than she is getting right now. Medicine that will allow her to be mobile and leave that dusty apartment of yours. I¡¯ll even provide your family a monthly stipend, plenty for her to live on.¡±

    Nadia lifted her head, and her eyes lit up. ¡°We can work with that. Thank you, Editor. What do you think, Sam?¡±

    Sam exhaled, cycling from the disappointment of a moment ago to cautious excitement. ¡°I¡¯m not sure how Ma would take this. If we both pass, we¡¯d be leaving her on her own.¡±

    Nadia jiggled her cellphone. ¡°Actually, I called her on the way. I told her what you were doing, that you were being all noble and reckless, all for our sake. She¡¯s the one that had the idea I come along too. She wants us to stay together and look out for each other. If she¡¯s feeling better, she can go stay with one of her sisters. She¡¯ll be fine. I¡¯m sure the Editor will let us visit her or bring her to visit us?¡±

    Tar tilted his head in thought. ¡°If you do well in my program, we can discuss what is feasible.¡±

    Sam noticed the dodge but didn¡¯t care. They¡¯d figure it out. He just wanted his mother to be healthy again. Nadia had the same hopeful look in her eyes. He also didn¡¯t actually hate the idea of her coming. The two shared a close bond, having relied on each other from an early age. ¡°Right. Sure, let¡¯s do this. Knowing you, you¡¯d just go behind my back to sign up anyways,¡± he said.

    Nadia rolled her eyes, but a grin stretched across her face.

    Tar sighed. ¡°Truly, a picture of family affection. It almost inspires me to connect with my own extended relations. Sadly, I detest most of them, and those I don¡¯t are far-flung and immersed in their own benevolences. But as you humans say, let us get this show on the road. Who should we start with? How about Sam? Follow me.¡±

    Win frowned. ¡°If the entrance exam isn¡¯t in space, where is it? This store is not very large.¡±

    Tar wiggled the part of his forehead where eyebrows would be. ¡°You¡¯ll see soon enough. Trust me, you don¡¯t want to ruin the surprise.¡±

    #

    A rectangular line traced itself on the wall behind Tar¡¯s desk. Tar touched the middle of the panel and the wall vanished, leaving a veil of darkness in its place. Tar gestured Sam forward. Sam gave the other two a half-wave goodbye before stepping through.

    The darkness parted, opening to a brightly lit room enclosed by stark white walls. To his side, Tar waved a hand and a pedestal rose from the floor, topped by shiny dark glass.

    ¡°Rest your palm on the control device there, and voil¨¤, you¡¯ll begin.¡± Tar held his hands behind his back and beamed at him, a spider nestled in its web.

    ¡°That¡¯s it? No elaborate obstacle course? No jousting a robot?¡± Sam was disappointed. The sting of his earlier test failure still on his mind, he¡¯d hoped to fall back on his general athleticism to get through the exam.

    ¡°Strictly speaking, no. The exam will take place in a virtual representation of your mind space. I suppose the program I¡¯ve designed could conceivably conclude that traipsing through an abstract obstacle course would be useful for the assessment, but your actual body won¡¯t be going anywhere.¡±

    Sam hesitated, wary of subjecting himself to unknown Xarlogic technology. ¡°Will this be like the tea?¡±

    Tar shook his head. ¡°You had a severe reaction, I admit. In fact, that is a promising sign, the explanation of which I don¡¯t care to give at this moment. You¡¯ll have to trust me for now that all will make sense in due time.¡±

    Sam grunted. So, Tar knew already about his experience with the tea? ¡°With all respect, I barely know you, let alone trust you.¡±

    ¡°That is a sensible perspective to take, but the evening draws near and your sister and friend are patiently waiting for me to initiate their exams in turn. I am all for reasonable discussion at the appropriate time.¡± Tar lightly tapped his foot. ¡°Ready? Go ahead and place your hand flat against the top of the pedestal.¡±

    Sam quelled his emotions and followed the instructions. Here goes nothing. The pedestal was cold to the touch, and there was a small stab into his thumb.

    The room folded in on itself. Tar faded into the background, then disappeared altogether.

    A strong vacuum sensation latched onto the back of his head. Sam¡¯s active mind evaporated, disbursed into floating embers that drifted away from him. Every thought and every emotion vacated his head. There was only blankness.

    This state continued, unbounded by time. Finally, a single thought wriggled free, barely escaping a rush of pressure that aimed to squash it. Sam¡¯s mind reeled, and more thoughts grasped for air, growing in number. The pressure increased tenfold, becoming an invisible force. The thoughts melted, or dissolved, or simply ceased to be.

    Eventually, the all-consuming force relented. Euphoric release poured through each brain cell. Thoughts returned, just a couple at first, but then an onslaught. Where am I? Am I still alive? Next, his emotions. Heavy doses of fear and adrenaline, mixed with relief. Sam shuddered and took the mental equivalent of several deep gulps of air, his figurative lungs burning as if he¡¯d made it to the ocean¡¯s surface. His mind sorted through the avalanche of stimuli.

    An elegant-sounding electronic voice spoke into his ear. Forced meditation test complete. Subject passes. Current capacity assessed as medium. Potential assessed as superior. Next test commencing.

    His physical body took shape again, and his eyes perceived the world around him. He stood within the examination room once more, but Tar was nowhere in sight.

    The walls caught fire.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    Sam flinched but felt no fear, even as the fire burned intensely. He remained curiously distant, uninterested in the heat building across his clothes and skin. Soon, the warmth behind him lessened, and he managed to overcome his apathy long enough to turn around. A sheet of ice now lined the walls. Waves of cold rolled off the ice and poured into him. Sam shivered, though his backside remained toasty from the fire.

    Then, the margins of the fire and ice merged throughout the room, layering on top of each other. This created a cacophony of noise as ice cracked and fire sizzled. A cloud of boiling steam began to form, attracting enough mass to envelop him. His nervous system lost control, and he could no longer make sense of his surroundings. At the same time, his whole body experienced a profound itch.

    Sam¡¯s sanity teetered.

    A single discordant note chimed. The room restored itself to its previous untouched state. He took a few long breaths, regaining control. He waited for the voice to say something again, but it remained silent. His stomach clenched. How much of this do I have to endure?

    A lucent orb answered him, first emerging from the ceiling and then floating down toward him. It began to pulsate brightly, creating patterns like fireworks that illuminated the sky. The effect gained speed, and an entranced Sam couldn¡¯t tear his eyes away.

    The orb intensified and compressed itself, becoming a bead of concentrated radiance, like the Sun at its birth. Attempting to shield his eyes, Sam experienced a strange thrill as waves of light flooded him, his body losing substance and turning transparent.

    The orb grew dimmer for a second, then exploded, causing the waves of light to rush to every corner of the room, sweeping through and around Sam. He could see the outlines of ivory rods within him. Oh, those were his bones. Then the light cut off and the room began to quickly darken.

    Soon enough, an inky blackness consumed his surroundings. He moved his hand to his face and saw nothing, felt nothing. The inner concept of his own identity hung in the balance as a feeling of nonexistence and inertness fought against his core being.

    The itch returned. Then a slightly less discordant note sounded out.

    The room restored to its original state. No object emerged or any other visible change occurred, but Sam sensed a shift. His arms lifted an inch without his prompting. He stood on the tips of his toes. His neck straightened. His weight lessened, and he kicked off the ground with a small push. Instead of returning to the ground, he started to float, weightless.

    At first, he stayed in place, a few inches off the ground. Gradually though, he started to rise into the air. Then he sped up, except the ceiling still hung above him. On instinct, he reached out a hand to brace himself, but his gesture made the ceiling shear away, revealing a dense bank of dark clouds.

    Now rising above into the sky, Sam did not feel disoriented. He couldn¡¯t see but his consciousness spread out in all different directions. The deep cold from before, the intense light, the force rapidly pulling him up¡ªthey all exerted their influence on him. At the same time, he detected a deep foundational imbalance that saturated the clouds, and he discerned that he had the means to correct it. He gathered the ambient chaotic energy around him, pointed into the mists below him, and then released it all at once.

    Giant bolts of lightning escaped from his body and arced in every direction before rebounding back and sweeping over him. His vision went white.

    #

    The electronic voice breathed into his ear. Energy aptitude test complete. Affinity determined. Results will be shared during orientation. Next test commencing.

    He now stood on gray rocky dirt in the midst of heavy fog. Beams of sunlight shone through, piercing the haze and revealing a circular wall with tall, steep sides. Above the wall, rows upon rows of wooden seats extended skyward. Indistinct, ghostly human-shaped bodies occupied each one, frozen in place.

    The figures loosened themselves from their stupor, and the drone of conversation filled the air. A palpable sense of anticipation developed. It was a coliseum. Sam took it in, more curious than scared just yet.

    The clarion call of a trumpet rang out, and a carpet rolled out of the thinning fog. The end bumped up against Sam, and he took a step back. A rotund ghostly shape, bulky with what Sam presumed to be invisible layers of padded clothing, strode out, chest puffed and stomach protruding. It moved like a pompous noble, the world bending to its will. An escort of tall ghosts, their posture stiff and holding wispy-looking spears, flanked it. The figure haughtily strutted up to him.

    Sam examined the ghost with interest. It exuded a palpable sense of presence, as if lent substance by an unseen force. Sam guessed he was about to be tested in strange and unexpected ways.

    It coughed. A member of the escort stepped forward and gestured to Sam, pointing to the ground. When Sam didn¡¯t react, it made a bowing motion. Not willing to offend the ghosts, Sam dipped his chest forward.

    The rotund would-be noble made a sound of contentment and then, looking to the crowd, issued a series of loud screeching noises. Sam tried not to wince.

    Translation provided, the voice said.

    The screeches morphed into intelligible words. ¡°Dear citizens of my esteemed heavenly prefecture, thank you for joining us in observing today¡¯s trial by combat. Before us, a pathetic, untrained, sad excuse of a challenger. A human. Foolishly, he has chosen to exercise in a quixotic attempt to prove himself in front of all of you, when surely all we will bear witness to is his prompt demise.¡±

    The audience tittered with laughter. Sam¡¯s jaw clenched, his good humor gone in an instant. He¡¯d faced down bullies before. If the ghost wished to demoralize him, he¡¯d be in for a rude awakening.

    ¡°Nonetheless, we still must respect a man who faces his end in combat, no matter how vain his pursuit might be. With that said, let us welcome his opponent, our esteemed champion, he who upholds the highest standards of courage and pugnaciousness, the gladiator we gladly know as Auroch.¡± His voice began to pitch even louder. ¡°Auroch belongs to us all. The prizefighter, the one who has never lost a fight. Auroch will surely administer this trial in such a way that affirms our great respect and admiration for the ways of battle. Hear, hear! Let us raise our voices as we engage in the joyous occasion of watching our champion beat the living daylights out of another pretender!¡±

    With that, he raised his hands in exhortation, and the crowd erupted into an enormous cheer.

    Crap. Sam¡¯s earlier conviction waned as realization sank in. This would be actual combat. Sam had gotten into his fair share of scrapes and even tried out for the wrestling team once in between basketball seasons, but he didn¡¯t have the first idea how to beat a trained fighter. Tar¡ªor his program¡ªhad either not accounted for that, or didn¡¯t care.

    Nevertheless, his resolve tightened. You got this. The insults still bristled, but none of this was real, right? He¡¯d happily go down swinging if it meant showing these rude spirits that his blood wasn¡¯t so easily purchased.

    The pompous lord marched back out of the amphitheater, escort in tow. He took his place among the stands, inhabiting a throne-like chair and peering down below. The crowd hushed, and he raised his arm. Once all eyes were on him, he swung his arm down in a violent chopping motion. Another raucous round of cheers erupted.

    A section of the ground in front of Sam dropped away. The sound of gears drowned out the crowd, and a platform rose from the depths. My opponent. Sam¡¯s expectations were met when the fog parted to reveal a giant ghost, easily twice the size of the others. It wore a helmet with pronged horns affixed on top and shaggy, if still translucent, armor. A glistening, dual-headed ax rested on its back. Once the platform became level with the arena floor, the fighter vigorously swung the ax around itself, earning applause.

    ¡°I am Auroch. The earth shakes when I move. My enemies flee before me!¡± The giant thundered. Not one for subtlety. It turned its attention to Sam and loudly scoffed, echoed by similar noises from the stands. Similar to its compatriots, the warrior spirit had no facial features, except for two beady dark globules standing in for eyes. They fixated on Sam, and Sam stared back, aiming for as much poise as possible.

    The floor shifted beside Sam, and a small platform rose up, surrounded by faint fluorescents. On top sat three transparent weapons, one clearly angular like a sword, another in the arc shape of a bow, and finally a long, thin cylinder, like a staff. Sam reasoned he should go with the easiest one to use and reached to pick up the staff.

    As his hand drew closer, the outline of the staff buckled and drew inward, as if pulling away from him. Puzzled, Sam tried to grab it again. The staff emitted a surge of energy and blasted away across the ground, as if stung by Sam¡¯s touch.

    Auroch flashed a jubilant grin. ¡°His mastery of aether is so low he can¡¯t even grasp an energy weapon. How shameful!¡±

    The crowd rewarded him with a bout of rapacious glee. Sam¡¯s heart sank in embarrassment. I don¡¯t stand a chance if I can¡¯t even pick up the damn weapon. Losing a fairly fought fight was one thing, being squashed like a bug another. He pictured a look of disbelief on Tar¡¯s face, so astonished he was by Sam¡¯s utter failure.

    The shame alone meant Sam didn¡¯t want to give up so easily. He tepidly moved over to the staff. The object vibrated, as if sensing his presence. Auroch had identified it as an energy weapon. It reminded him of the experience of drinking the tea and gaining access to an entirely new dimension. What if the staff belonged to that world? He¡¯d need to access it again to have any hope of fending off the giant looming behind him.

    That line of thought resonated in him. Yes. That was the purpose of this test. Figuring out how to use the staff was crucial to his chances of passing.

    He closed his eyes, bringing forward the memory of the strange energy fields. As he did so, catcalls rained down on him from the stands, but Sam had practice shutting out hostile crowds and tuned them out. The trick was not to try to erase his anxiety, which was virtually impossible, but to fixate his mind on a single task.

    He¡¯d seen energy fields with his eyes, but more so, he¡¯d felt the urge to touch them. It wasn¡¯t a huge leap to use his hands as a conduit for interacting with the strange energy. He raised his right hand parallel to his body. He wiggled his fingers, willing something to happen. Auroch grunted impatiently and the crowd kept growing louder, but he willed his attention on his hand.

    It stayed empty. Or was it? In truth, it was incomplete. Missing something, that if added would make Sam whole. Or at least start that process. What should he pick up? What could he add?

    There. Just outside his index finger, he detected the arrival of a single mote of energy. The mote didn¡¯t want to move, but it also didn¡¯t want to stay. It was curious. Sam extended an invitation. Come join me. It obliged and moved toward him. Sam opened his fist, exposing his palm, and waited. The mote sank into his skin, creating a slight tickle.

    Lodged in his hand, the mote¡¯s influence spread. Streams of energy traveled up Sam¡¯s arm and into his chest, head, and legs. Sam staggered forward, feeling like he¡¯d been dipped into an ice bath. His teeth chattered, and the air smelled of rust.

    Sam shook himself, and the world around him settled into place. Like when he drank the tea, lines bounded in all different directions, though the earth beneath him remained inert and no heat beat down on him. Unlike before, he didn¡¯t lose his bearings. He¡¯d gained access again to the new sense, but this time his brain could better process it.

    He wanted to take it all in, but time was of the essence. The mote lent him a foundation of how to use the lines of energy. He pictured plucking the line closest to him, and it sprang into his hand. Energy flowed out of him, and the line shifted, pointing in the direction of the staff. The mote pulsed, making his hand burn, and the staff rose from the ground and glided toward him. Once he grasped it, the drop of energy stretched out, partially exiting his palm, and then elongated and enveloped the weapon.

    Amazed, he gave it a twirl. He moved fluidly, and the staff acted like a natural extension of his arm. There was no noticeable heaviness, nor did it seem too light. The weight of the staff matched his strength perfectly. Sam kept spinning the staff, quicker and quicker, before slamming it to the ground.

    Purpose flowed through him, like a part of his core being had emerged into view.

    The buzz of the crowd quieted by a fraction. ¡°Good,¡± the heavy voice rumbled behind him. ¡°It¡¯s no fun picking on the weak.¡±

 5. Breakthrough, Part 1

    Sam turned slowly to look at Auroch. Ghostly fire lit up its black eyes.

    With a sudden roar, the hulking ghost bent its knees and then sprang into a gallop, aiming the horns of its helmet straight at Sam. The ax stayed strapped to the spirit¡¯s back.

    Sam stayed glued in place. Now he had the staff, but it wasn¡¯t like that gave him any idea how to fend off the warrior¡¯s charge. Survive now, win later. He turned and sprinted to the opposite corner of the coliseum. Auroch slowed down, looked up for a second, and then pivoted and charged at him again. Sam dodged in the same way.

    This went on for another few exchanges. Sam tried not to panic as his legs and lungs grew winded. He couldn¡¯t keep this up. Worse yet, the crowd began to loudly boo and throw ghostly fruit at him. One globule splattered on the ground in front of him and dispatched seeds in all directions. A seed struck the top of Sam¡¯s foot, leaving a burning welt. What the hell? He skidded to a stop and massaged his foot.

    Auroch glowered on the other side of the arena. ¡°You have no honor. Stand your ground and fight!¡±

    He¡¯s not wrong. Swallowing, Sam held the staff in front of him. Another fruit soared toward him, but this time he whacked it with the staff. It hit the wall and exploded, earning jeers from the nearest audience members, but at least the seeds landed nowhere near him.

    Auroch used the opening to barrel toward him, and this time Sam crouched down. He channeled the qualities of a bullfighter. He needed to be nimble and clever. Visualize what you want to do. Then do it.

    Right when Auroch dropped its shoulder and was about to bowl him over, Sam swung to the side and hit the giant in the back with the staff. Expecting the weapon to bounce off, he instead felt a surge of energy blast through it. Where the end of the staff made contact with Auroch, it delivered a host of sparks. The ghost¡¯s transparent skin sizzled and smoked.

    Auroch plowed into the ground and sent sand spraying in all directions. Sam looked down at his hands gripping the staff, amazed. He couldn¡¯t tell if the staff had acted on its own or if it was an extra something he¡¯d added.

    The crowd had hushed as Auroch struggled to heave itself up, a victim of its own heavy weight. Sam stood in place, stuck. He had the upper hand, and he should use this moment to earn victory. But he couldn¡¯t make himself attack somebody so vulnerable.

    His hesitation cost him. The outline of a beastly arm flew out and hit his right leg, and Sam tumbled to the ground. He fell on his back, lungs emptying in an oof, and a blue-gray sky took over his vision. Stunned, he realized they were outside. What happened to the confines of the examination room?

    His back hurt, his head hurt, everything hurt. In the movies, people got pounded and bounced back up. Sam got tripped once, and he was ready to call it quits.

    His rival cackled and heaved itself off the ground. He stood over Sam, his massive head blotting out the weak sun. His fearsome glower emanated waves of fury. ¡°Pathetic humans and your beginner¡¯s luck. Time to end this.¡±

    Auroch pulled the ax off its back and held it double-handed, high up in the air, an executioner in repose. Sam closed his eyes. In the face of defeat, his brain ceased to function. Like when he had just entered this strange world, his thoughts simply ceased to be. This time he didn¡¯t try to resist. It felt right; good, even. Time stretched as the ax swung down toward him. He resigned himself to his fate.

    Unaffected by his blankness, the mote remained active. In fact, without Sam¡¯s brain competing for attention, Sam¡¯s body and the mote grew even more entwined. Empowered, the mote grew, an orb of electrical energy lighting up his hand, and the stream of energy emanating from it grew into a river. At first, it was painful, as if he¡¯d touched a live wire. His body twitched and convulsed.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    Finally, his thoughts returned, flashing by only as single words. Energy. Power. Strength. He felt more alive than ever before, surpassing even the high of that one crazy three-pointer he shot to win a game, or that day his family visited a theme park and they didn¡¯t leave until the park closed.

    As the ax neared his throat, Sam lightning-quick moved the staff to cover him, suffused with his will. The ax landed with a thud on the staff, somehow not cleaving it in two. The pressure being exerted was enormous and Sam¡¯s arms shook from the effort, but energy kept flowing into them and he held strong.

    Marveling, Sam grinned and let loose a yell of exhilaration. Auroch snarled. Sam didn¡¯t know how long he could pull this off. He was also tired of being on the ground.

    He rolled to the side, and the sudden lack of resistance caused Auroch to lose balance. It toppled forward and lost grip of the ax, which tumbled to the side.

    Sam rose from the ground, relieved to have survived. Auroch remained in the sand, sputtering. Sam couldn¡¯t waste the opening this time. The obvious move was to keep whacking Auroch with the staff and hope that would do the trick. But he still couldn¡¯t stomach the idea of taking advantage of the ghost¡¯s helplessness and instead chose to chart a different plan. He wanted to win, and he wanted to do so honorably.

    He suspected that in Tar¡¯s world honor likely meant for nothing, but this was his mind simulation, dang it, so he¡¯d fight the way he wanted to.

    Eyes blazing, Auroch pushed off the ground. At the same time, Sam ran over and kicked the ax away from the spirit. The ax launched off the ground and practically flew, as if repelled by a magnet. It landed far out of the ghost¡¯s reach. Step one down.

    A ghostly pair of hands grasped for him. Sam ducked and pivoted, grateful for his years playing basketball. He feinted striking forward with the staff, causing Auroch to retreat, but before he could hit the spirit for real, Auroch blocked the staff with its forearm. A loud crack sounded. The two danced about for a couple of minutes. Unlike before, Sam¡¯s lungs stayed fresh, the mote¡¯s energy revitalizing him. At last, Auroch moved a second too slow, and Sam used the opening to jab the ghost in the knee. Step two done.

    Auroch stumbled, heaved its other leg forward, and managed to keep from falling flat. Step three, you¡¯re up. Sam used the only move he thought could both trump Auroch¡¯s superior strength and not force him to shamelessly pummel the ghost while it was down. He went for the jugular, literally. He whipped the staff around Auroch¡¯s head and braced it against its neck. Auroch tensed and growled. Its fists bawled, and Sam pressed the staff into its throat. It dropped its hands.

    For the first time during the whole encounter, Sam spoke. ¡°Don¡¯t move. I¡¯ve got the advantage.¡±

    The figure in front of him trembled with rage but remained still. The crowd was shocked into silence. Sam took it in with a huge grin, elation racing through him.

    ¡°No, this is unacceptable! How could this be?¡± The portly ghost lord shrieked, like dry chalk on a blackboard. He stood from his chair, his face mottled with silver-cheeked outrage.

    Auroch¡¯s voice rumbled next to Sam, deep and powerful. ¡°He won fair and square, games master. I am unable to react without incurring mortal injury.¡±

    ¡°To be defeated by such a weakling, you will be stripped of your champion status.¡± The overseer¡¯s voice dripped with venom. ¡°And you, human, learn from your superior. This power that you think you¡¯ve gotten a taste of, you will never fully grasp it. You are unworthy. We¡¯ve all witnessed your life before you arrived here. It is of no consequence. You, your sister, you mother, all left behind, rightfully so¡ª¡±

    Sam¡¯s hearing shut off. Anger blasted through him, supercharging the energy within. Sparks of electricity jumped from his hand and weaved around the staff. Auroch bellowed in pain.

    He instinctively sought to vent his fury, and he stomped his foot, sending sand billowing up around him. Some grains met and clashed with the sparks. The electricity fizzled and the sand liquified, becoming oily and viscous. The resulting substance splashed on the ground and stuck to his feet. It began to climb his legs, then his chest and up his neck. Sam watched it dispassionately, but a voice in his head screamed for attention. Let it go, Sam. You¡¯ve been called worse. You¡¯re better than this.

    Like he¡¯d pushed a button, the oil slid off him, forming a puddle. He let go of the staff, and it dropped in a heap. The shimmery world of the arena disappeared.

    Combat test complete. Subject passes. Current capacity for aether sense assessed as medium-high. Potential assessed as exceptional.

    Breakthrough recorded. You¡¯ve climbed to the first step, congratulations. Subject has achieved Meditate step within the Legion stage along The Path.

    Breakthrough recorded. You¡¯ve climbed to the second step, congratulations. Subject has achieved Empower step within the Legion stage along The Path.

    (Ghost_Noble configuration deemed unstable and unsuitable for future use. External protocol engaged. Results modified. Memory altered.)

    Next test commencing.

 6. Breakthrough, Part 2

    Now, only Sam¡¯s mental space persisted. A whirring noise started up, like a projector at a movie theater. Images flickered by, and he imagined a miniature version of himself sitting in a seat near the front, watching them intently. At first, they went by so quickly he could barely distinguish them. Gradually they slowed down, and recognizable scenes came into focus. He could tell they were all from his perspective, though everything looked bigger and high above. Memories from his childhood.

    He saw toys, trees, the sky. He scarfed down food, ran in the yard, and caressed his baby sister. Now as an adult, he could no longer actively recall living this, but the images resonated too much to be anything but true.

    A young-looking version of his mother leaned her face close to his, nuzzling his nose. Her forehead creased with worry as she examined a cut on his knee. She smiled with joy as the two baked cupcakes together, getting flour everywhere. Sam clenched his hands. He missed that smile so much.

    A male face peeked around the corner into the kitchen, brown eyes full of warmth. It took Sam a second to recognize who it was. His father.

    It had been years since he¡¯d even looked at his father¡¯s picture. Now he appeared as a real person again, giving him and Nadia big hugs and his mother a peck on the cheek. Sam¡¯s mouth turned dry, and a familiar pain flooded him. As he¡¯d done many times growing up, he stuffed his emotions down as brutally as he could. The pace of the images seemed to respond to him, speeding by, and his perspective in the images grew taller. No further memories including his father surfaced.

    Now in middle school, Sam sat down at the table for a home-cooked meal, surrounded by the bustle of aunts, uncles, and family friends. He looked out the window of their cousin¡¯s house, where they now stayed. A maple tree stood by itself in the yard, covered in orange leaves. He went to find his mother to ask for a puppy but found her napping on the couch. He cleaned the dishes and read a book to his sister.

    His uncle lost his job. His mother, his sister, and Sam packed the car and moved to a faraway city, where his mom found employment. She sat over a pail of dirty water, washing her worn-out nurse¡¯s uniform. Her face grew haggard with deep lines. Sam tried to help, but she sent him outside, urging him to play with the neighborhood kids.

    Sam picked up a basketball for the first time. He practiced every day after completing his chores, pouring himself into getting better and letting his mind forget the worries of the day.

    One afternoon, Sam went to pick Nadia up from school; the two always walked home together. She stood in the playground, facing toward an older, taller girl. Nadia lifted her chin and walked by, but at the last second, the other girl extended her leg to trip her. Sam shouted a warning and ran to intervene, but before he got there, Nadia had deftly jumped back. She stepped forward and pushed the girl down, who began to cry. The teachers and other students nearby ran over and tended to Nadia. The other girl was left on her own.

    Sam got his first job, working at a grocery store during weekends. He practiced basketball daily, got decent grades, and graduated from high school. He received an athletic scholarship from the local state university.

    When the team chose him as captain, they threw him a party. He chatted with all the different players and inevitably vowed to each that they¡¯d win every game that season and then make the state championship. He got roped into one drinking game but ducked out of the others. Later, he snuck out the back and walked home, soaking in the crisp fall air. The next morning, he woke up early and made breakfast. He arrived first to their team practice.

    Taking in his whole life at once, Sam felt a level of pride that he hadn¡¯t for a long time, not since his mother¡¯s diagnosis and the difficulties he¡¯d faced. His family had kept finding ways to survive, to prevail even. Those challenges had given him purpose. Value. Proof that he was needed and loved and could do right by others.

    The images slowed and stopped. The projector screen turned off.

    #

    Emotional maturity test complete. Results of test will be assessed by Proctor. Evaluation is ending. Subject will return to original state.

    Sam opened his eyes and blinked rapidly as the white walls came into view. Having a physical body again came as a shock, and he rapidly realized that he hadn¡¯t experienced any of the normal bodily functions while taking the exam. He was hungry and tired and needed to use the restroom.

    Tar still stood in the room, but now there were two of him.

    The second Tar turned around, and Sam was relieved to see it was somebody different. He was equally alarmed though at meeting another Xarlogic, especially without any warning. Nobody had seen a second one before. Half of the people out there believed Tar was the only alien in existence and had come to mess around with humanity because he had nothing better to do.

    Tar beamed at him. ¡°You¡¯ve passed! Well done. I knew you would. I¡¯m thrilled on your behalf.¡±

    Sam shuddered, his mind a fragmented mess as it tried to make sense of the experience. He expected plenty of weird dreams that night. ¡°Thank you, I guess? I know it wasn¡¯t real, but I still feel like a piece of gum stuck to the sidewalk.¡±

    ¡°Nothing to be worried about, isn¡¯t that right, Proctor Mim?¡±

    The other Xarlogic nodded solemnly, appearing similar to Tar but with softer features and skin a bluer tint. ¡°A good night of sleep should be sufficient to recover.¡±

    ¡°It would have been helpful if you¡¯d prepared us more. How was I to expect I¡¯d need to fight a giant ghost man-cow?¡± The question prompted Sam to hold out his hands in front of him. They trembled from exhaustion, but as he stared at them, he glimpsed a thin thread of energy wrapping itself around his right index finger. Good. That better not have been for nothing.

    The two Xarlogics exchanged a glance. Tar lifted a finely haired eyebrow. ¡°Proper assessment requires pushing subjects to their breaking point. Foreknowledge would dilute the results.¡±

    Sam didn¡¯t have the energy to protest further. ¡°How are Nadia and Win? Are they okay? What happens if you don¡¯t pass?¡±

    Mim glanced at Tar, who nodded for her to proceed. ¡°They¡¯ve not yet completed their exams, but both should be wrapping up any minute now. Last I checked, they are each on their way to passing. Those who fail suffer no serious consequences, but we are forced to erase their memories of the test and the knowledge they¡¯ve gained from it. Memory erasure can be an inexact art. Regrettably, though, they¡¯d be at risk of hurting themselves if they returned home with any lingering understanding of using aether.¡±

    Sam blanched, wondering whether the threat of memory wipe would reemerge in his future interactions with the Xarlogics. The risk being, he¡¯d never know if so. The aliens possessed a mastery of worlds he knew nothing about, and Sam would always be at a disadvantage when dealing with him.

    Tar waved his hand dismissively. ¡°On to happier subjects. You, my dear Sam, to display such control of aether already, have the makings of a genuine prodigy! I¡¯m so pleased.¡±

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    The praise pleased Sam, but the shift in Tar¡¯s demeanor from before the exam needled him. ¡°Did something change? Earlier, I got the sense you didn¡¯t have a lot of confidence in me.¡±

    Tar gave him an appraising glance. ¡°Yes, well, the issue was, you lacked confidence in you. Aether is a delicate beast. To handle it correctly, you need to be in the right state of mind or you¡¯ll do more harm than good. I told you what you needed to hear.¡±

    Sam flushed from embarrassment. He¡¯d walked into that one. Even as he¡¯d wondered whether Tar would coach him, the alien had already gone ahead and done so. You need to remember this, Sam. Tar may be an alien, but he understands people well. ¡°Okay, I see what you mean then. So, what exactly is aether? And steps? And ¡®the path¡¯?¡±

    Tar pointed at Mim. ¡°She¡¯ll teach you all about it. The most direct explanation is that our universe is suffused with ambient energy, which we call aether. All living things can convert aether into active energy, but doing so requires . . . hmm, what is the word humans use? Oh, yes, enlightenment. Trust me, it sounds just as grandiose in my language.¡±

    ¡°And so certain people are better at using it? Something about a sense?¡±

    Tar¡¯s smile sharpened. ¡°Exactly. Think of aether sense as your natural aptitude. Something you¡¯re born with. Those I recruit all need to have a certain level, and you and your sister are at the high end of the range.¡±

    Nadia, too? Sam couldn¡¯t deny that being naturally talented at using aether excited him, and even better if that extended to his sister as well. It meant an even stronger chance that they would go far, help their mother, and maybe even earn the ability to give to those in need. At the same time, it was obvious Tar had already developed high expectations for them. His patience would run thin if they didn¡¯t perform well. ¡°In a practical sense, what does that mean?¡±

    ¡°That your next few months will be tough but potentially highly rewarding. For now, let¡¯s get you and your associates fed so we can discuss what comes next.¡±

    Sam hid his irritation at Tar¡¯s ducking of the question and allowed himself to be escorted out of the room. His back itched, or was it his foot? Somewhere he couldn¡¯t quite reach. His weary mind couldn¡¯t figure it out and relegated it to his subconscious.

    #

    The sun had set by the time Sam, Nadia, and Win emerged outside again and began to make their way home. Coming out of the exam, Win and Nadia had looked as shell-shocked as he had. Other than checking that they were okay, Sam didn¡¯t have the chance to ask them any questions. Tar tried to keep them, insisting they sign contracts that night. Win repeatedly demurred on their behalf, for which Sam was grateful, given the leverage Tar had accrued over him and Nadia. Following a pledge to come back the next day, they escaped.

    The bus home had been full, requiring the three to stay silent. Sam attempted to use the respite to gather his thoughts, but they remained a confused jumble. When they stood at the dark intersection where Win would split off, Sam wasn¡¯t sure what to say.

    Not surprisingly, Nadia broke the silence. ¡°So now that we can use aether, are we superheroes?¡± She playfully brushed off her shoulders.

    Some of Sam¡¯s tension released. He laughed and shrugged. ¡°Superhero feels like a loaded term.¡±

    Win chuckled. ¡°Right, we can¡¯t use that word until we¡¯re ready to face supervillains. Let¡¯s not get ahead of ourselves.¡±

    Nadia looked wistfully at the night sky. ¡°Well, we¡¯re something now. Did you feel it too? Like the world bent to my will.¡±

    Sam bit his lip. ¡°I wonder. I¡¯m not sure the world wasn¡¯t bending me.¡±

    ¡°Tar said we¡¯d all experience it differently, depending on our affinities,¡± Win said.

    Sam crossed his arms. ¡°Right. Affinities. Another area that we have to wait to understand. We¡¯ll have so much to learn. We really don¡¯t know what we¡¯re getting into.¡±

    Nadia punched him in the arm. ¡°Sam, what¡¯s with the negativity? Just take a minute to enjoy the moment. Our lives may have just changed forever.¡±

    Her words had the opposite of their intended effect. Sam¡¯s shoulders sagged. ¡°Exactly. That¡¯s what I¡¯m afraid of.¡±

    Nadia squinted at him. ¡°Oh, come on, what happened? You were pretty gung ho before.¡±

    Sam gulped, trying to find the right words. ¡°I started thinking about everything that happened during the exam. That last part, the memory probe, dug in deep. I hate how my mind was ripe for the plucking. It makes me wonder what exactly Xarlogics are capable of.¡±

    He hadn¡¯t thought to confront Tar about this in the immediate aftermath of the exam, and now he regretted it. Why exactly was it necessary to drudge up the memories that he¡¯d purposefully buried away? Nor did he love the implications of being tested for emotional maturity. What did Tar need with such information?

    Nadia¡¯s face scrunched up. ¡°Huh, I don¡¯t remember that part of the test. Win?¡±

    Win shook his head. ¡°Me neither. That does sound concerning.¡±

    Sam swallowed. More evidence of Tar treating him differently, making him more squeamish. He changed the topic though, having no desire to recount the details in full. ¡°Well, what about the combat test? I¡¯m not sure how I didn¡¯t end up completely flattened. If that¡¯s a taste of what¡¯s to come, we¡¯ll have our hands full.¡±

    ¡°I mean, I¡¯m right there with you, but wasn¡¯t it a rush when you figured out how to win? When using aether made the difference? I knew then that I¡¯m meant to be able to do this.¡± Nadia cupped a fist with her other hand.

    Sam looked at her closely. She was hooked already. He turned to Win. ¡°How about you?¡±

    ¡°I took martial arts classes as a kid. I wasn¡¯t great at hitting things but could weave and dodge fairly well. During the exam, I darted around, way faster than I¡¯ve ever gone before. It took some time, but I figured out a way to use aether to my advantage. It was like a baptism by fire.¡± Win rubbed his neck. ¡°It was . . . exhilarating.¡±

    Sam knew what they meant. When he beat Auroch, he¡¯d felt on top of the world. That was, until . . . What was he thinking? Oh, another question begged to be asked. ¡°And Tar? Can we put our future in his hands?¡±

    Win sucked in a breath. ¡°It¡¯s clear he has an agenda. We¡¯ll need to be on our toes, see if we can¡¯t figure out what he has planned.¡±

    Nadia looked back in the direction they¡¯d come from, toward downtown. ¡°He¡¯s not all-powerful. Why would he need us then? Give it enough time, and we¡¯ll become strong enough that we can handle him.¡±

    Sam wanted to argue with them, to say they were being na?ve, but it seemed pointless. Their minds were made up. The bulb of the streetlamp flickered above them, barely keeping the shadows at bay. This day, once inconceivable, would end, and a page would be turned.

    Win put a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Decide what¡¯s best for you. If you choose to stay here, we¡¯d accept that. Right, Nadia?¡±

    The white of Nadia¡¯s eyes contrasted with the night that enveloped them. ¡°I love you and I always will. Pick the way forward that feels right to you. As for me, I see now where I want to go.¡±

    #

    Sam lay awake in his bed. Moonlight streamed through a gap in the curtains. His sister slumbered away in her bed in the other corner.

    Any efforts to sleep were stymied by the deluge of thoughts swirling in his mind. The calculus in front of him seemed clear. He could put the past twenty-four hours aside, act as if nothing had happened, and proceed with his life as planned. He¡¯d plead his case to retake his final. He was loath to do so, but he could pull out the sick mother card. In a few months, he¡¯d start his accountant job, earn a regular income, and pay off the debt his family had accumulated. He¡¯d do everything possible to make sure his mother lived comfortably. Hell, eventually he¡¯d try dating again, meet somebody, settle down, and start a family of his own. He¡¯d live a stable and uneventful life and wouldn¡¯t let anybody down. Nobody could accuse him of committing the same sins as those who came before him. Such as his father.

    Pressure applied to the sides of his head, marking the onset of a stress headache. He recognized what that meant. When you tried to suppress your innermost desires, your body fought back. In his bones, he knew he¡¯d already made up his mind.

    In his heart, he yearned for adventure, to learn how to properly use aether, to try to reach the next step, whatever that meant. He hoped to meet a third Xarlogic, or any of the other many alien species out and about in their vast galaxy. He wanted to be part of a handful of humans to see Earth from space. And if Nadia and Win were determined to join Tar, his place was alongside them, making sure they kept their guards up.

    Sam hadn¡¯t been the one to open the door to a different future. An extraterrestrial being had descended to Earth and opened it for him. He imagined lifting his foot and crossing the threshold.

    #

    Tar and Mim were alone, the store closed and dark except for a soft light on Tar¡¯s desk.

    Tar crackled his knuckles. ¡°What a triumph. Does the assessment provide confirmation?¡± He felt relief at being able to speak in his own language again. Such an efficient use of syllables. Speaking English required so much of the tongue. It was indecorous.

    Mim consulted her electronic pad. ¡°The assessment validates that the brother demonstrates a strong foundation for ascension. The ideal mix of emotional vulnerability, inner resolve, and an innate grasp of aether mechanics. The sister¡¯s affinity makes her a more difficult case to shepherd, though with exceptional possible future utility. I¡¯ve put together alternating plans with varying degrees of probability for success.¡±

    Tar leaned over the desk. ¡°Tell me everything.¡±

    <hr>

 7. Departure, Part 1

    After he informed the other two of his decision, Sam went with Nadia to meet Win first thing the next morning, so they could travel to Tar¡¯s downtown office together. The intersection from the night before basked in the early sun.

    Once back in Tar¡¯s uncomfortable chair, Sam scanned through the contract quickly, having already opted to trust Win to do the real examination. Win had apparently spent most of the night reading through online treatises on contracting with aliens, a newly budding interest of the world¡¯s lawyers. Most advised not to do it. Oh, well.

    Win folded his hands together. ¡°I believe all of the terms included are acceptable. Thank you as well for agreeing to provide transport back to Earth should we choose to withdraw from the training program. But I still have what I believe is an important question to ask, Editor Tar.¡±

    Tar gave a closed-lip smile. ¡°Of course, please ask away.¡±

    ¡°Given our henceforth¡±¡ªNice, Win¡ª¡°departure from Earth, what makes these contracts enforceable?¡±

    ¡°A valid and important inquiry. To attest to your wonderful governments that I will bring you, their citizens, back home safely, I have provided them with certain collateral. The nature of which I cannot disclose, but suffice to say, I will be plenty motivated not to abscond with any humans.¡±

    Win looked at Sam and Nadia and made a minute shrug. Sam shared the sentiment. No matter what reassurances Tar made, or what documents they signed, once they left Earth, they¡¯d be under his thumb. To believe otherwise would be foolish.

    Yesterday, Sam had fretted. Today, he didn¡¯t care. He¡¯d made his choice. Sam pinched himself for good measure¡ªyep, not some bizarre dream¡ªand signed the contract with a flourish.

    When he returned home, a box of the promised medicine sat in front of the door. Tar had insisted on immediate delivery as a sign of good faith. The two brought the box inside, avoiding their mother¡¯s questioning look, and retreated to their room.

    Sam shook his arms out. ¡°So we¡¯re doing this, huh?¡±

    Nadia nodded firmly. ¡°She¡¯ll understand. She wants what¡¯s best for us.¡±

    ¡°That just makes it worse,¡± Sam muttered. ¡°I already feel guilty leaving her behind as it is.¡±

    ¡°All the more reason to rip the Band-Aid off. You¡¯ve got the goods?¡± Nadia asked.

    Sam placed one of the cinnamon rolls they¡¯d bought on the way back on a plate. His mother¡¯s favorite. They stepped into her room. Sara sat upright in her bed, her hands folded in front of her and her eyes trained on them.

    ¡°How do you feel, Ma?¡± Sam asked.

    ¡°I feel like my kids are about to tell me they got home late last night after spending hours with a mysterious alien. What will the neighbors think?¡± Her smile twitched with humor, but her eyes shone with a hint of sadness.

    Sam chuckled. ¡°About that . . .¡± He launched into the explanation that he and Nadia had prepared, with Nadia jumping in as needed. ¡°So that about sums it up, Ma. We¡¯d be spending a few months training with the Editor on his space station and then we¡¯ll participate in an intergalactic competition. If we do well, we earn rewards and then come back home.¡±

    Throughout, Sara¡¯s reaction gave nothing away, and Sam nervously awaited her response. She nibbled on the cinnamon bun. ¡°Exactly how dangerous will it be?¡±

    Sam ran a hand through his hair. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe a little? The Editor has been a bit stingy with details. But he said the competition is tightly regulated, and there¡¯s an agreement that causing permanent injury is ¡®distasteful.¡¯¡±

    Instead of acting reassured, his mother closed her eyes. Whoops.

    Nadia reached to clasp her hands. ¡°Ma, you don¡¯t need to worry. The Editor is giving us access to some, uh, special technology that will help us. It¡¯s obvious that all of this is a big deal to him. He¡¯s not going to let anything happen to us.¡±

    Sam looked at her sharply. We can¡¯t make that guarantee. Nadia gave him a helpless shrug.

    Sara opened her eyes, which glistened with unshed tears. ¡°Forgive me. I¡¯m actually very happy. It¡¯s difficult to know what to make of all this, but I have faith in you both. You¡¯ll do what¡¯s right. I . . . I¡¯ll just miss you both so much. The three of us have always been together.¡±

    Part of the plan involved their Aunt Jana traveling to look after her for a week or so. Once she was strong enough to travel, the two would go together to Aunt Jana¡¯s home, where his mother would stay while they were gone.

    Seeing his mother be vulnerable made Sam¡¯s chest ache. ¡°It¡¯s not permanent. We¡¯ll visit as soon as we¡¯re allowed to. Trust me, Ma. And we¡¯ll be able to write emails to you and send pictures.¡±

    Sara nodded slowly. ¡°Of course, of course. I¡¯ll hold you to that. Well, as much as I don¡¯t want to let either of you go, I give you my blessing. I ask though that you make me a promise. Look after each other. Be safe. And¡ª¡± Her voice cracked. ¡°Come home to me, okay?¡±

    Sam and Nadia made eye contact before the latter looked off in the distance, hiding a tear of her own. Sam sat down at the end of the bed and put a hand on the blanket covering his mother¡¯s legs. ¡°I promise you, Ma. You¡¯ll see us again soon.¡±

    #

    The rest of the day passed in a blur. Sam packed (excruciatingly, he only had room for three pairs of shoes), texted friends to let them know he¡¯d be gone for a while, and took a long last look at the only planet he¡¯d ever known. Sam informed the accounting firm he¡¯d chosen to pursue a ¡°new, exciting venture¡± presented to him, as well as submitted a request to his college for a one-year break. He hoped that by that time, he¡¯d have clarity on whether ¡°space adventurer¡± would turn into a full-time gig.

    Suitcases in tow, he and Nadia joined Win for the familiar bus ride into the city. They¡¯d been given instructions to go to the municipal airport, which Tar had commandeered as a temporary spaceport. The small passenger terminal appeared deserted, save for a single Xarlogic standing out front. Mim.

    She wasted no time on small talk, instead gesturing them to the tarmac. They walked for a bit before reaching the mountain-sized hangar that dominated the opposite end. Mim prodded a touchpad and the massive doors of the hangar slid open with a groan.

    A crimson-colored, spherical object came into view, about the size of a large yacht. Extensions protruded from both the top and the bottom, flanked by antennae. A few spindly legs kept the object standing, and a ramp extended from its underside to the ground. Steam escaped from the belly of the vessel, obscuring the top of the ramp. Sam gaped. It was like a comic book scene come to life.

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    Win was the first to recover. ¡°Is that a flying saucer?¡±

    Mim made a funny noise with her mouth that sounded like exasperation. ¡°I gather it¡¯s evocative of some sort of human culture reference?¡±

    ¡°Yes, it looks like it should be piloted by little green aliens from Mars, here to destroy our planet,¡± Win said, a smile dancing on his lips.

    Mim let out a short, dry laugh, remarkable for its genuineness in comparison to Tar¡¯s more practiced ones. ¡°Indeed, the design is atypical. The Editor enjoys applying humor to the otherwise mundane. Shall we board?¡±

    The group shuffled up the ramp. A panel seamlessly lifted from the ship¡¯s side and slid open. A lounge-like area greeted them, with low-lying seats inset into the floor. Interior decorations resembled the style of the downtown store; ostentatious and vaguely futuristic, like a gaudy space-themed casino. Sam let out a breath he didn¡¯t realize he was holding, relieved at not spotting any tables with straps, medical devices with needles, or any one of the other numerous images that ships such as these conjured in his mind.

    An array of floor-to-ceiling windows surrounded them. Given that they were sitting below the bulk of the ship, they had a full circle of sightlines.

    ¡°Remain in this part of the shuttle for the duration of your trip. The view should provide plenty of stimulation.¡± Mim pointed above them. ¡°The ship is piloted by the space station¡¯s AI. I won¡¯t be joining you, so you¡¯ll be the only three on board. It will take a few hours to arrive, and Wendell will be there to greet you. He¡¯ll see to your needs. Also, there are uniforms inside this closet here. You should change beforehand.¡±

    She spoke in a staccato pattern, apparently disinterested. Sam struggled to absorb the information.

    Nadia raised her hand.

    Mim waved for her to speak. ¡°I appreciate the decorum, but it won¡¯t be needed. My training sessions aren¡¯t heavy on structure. Learning to use aether requires a certain adaptability.¡±

    ¡°That was part of my question, actually. Will you be leading our training? Are you staying here to continue administering entrance exams? And also . . .¡± Nadia¡¯s cheeks reddened a touch. ¡°What is the role of female Xarlogic in your society? I¡¯m curious to hear how another civilization views that . . . topic.¡±

    ¡°I am the instructor, yes. You are correct, I will remain on your planet to test applicants over the next week.¡± She paused, relaxing somewhat, and her voice took on more animation. ¡°Since you¡¯ll be the first to arrive, use this break to learn your way around the station and practice what you learned during your entrance exams. I suggest you take special effort to notice and perceive your surroundings, and also please practice meditating. Those skills are the foundation to using aether with any success, especially as you start to specialize in your specific affinities. Now is not the time to discuss affinities in depth, but at this point, you¡¯ve already encountered yours. See if you can¡¯t theorize as to what exactly it might be.¡±

    Her posture stiffened again. ¡°As for your last question, I¡¯ll start by saying that Xarlogic biology is roughly analogous to humans. I¡¯ll spare you the details of how we differ. It is useful to know, though that the head ridges of female Xarlogic are less pronounced, and our skin color is lighter, usually more blue or indigo, at least in the spectrum of light available to humans.¡± She gestured toward the top of her head, emphasizing the ridges.

    Nadia smiled uncertainly. ¡°Oh, I see.¡±

    ¡°Xarlogic males and females enjoy equal societal status. For complicated reasons, reproduction is carefully managed by our government.¡± Mim tapped the side of her head. ¡°It¡¯s a mark of prudence that you recognize how much variation in norms you are likely to come across within our galaxy. Be cautious in applying human standards toward your interpretation of others¡¯ behavior. I will provide further instruction on this should it be deemed necessary.¡±

    With that, she glided back down the ramp.

    Nadia said, ¡°Huh. They sure have a way about them.¡±

    Sam chuckled. ¡°She¡¯s nothing like Tar. I get the feeling that there¡¯s a lot going on underneath the surface.¡± He found it curious Tar had never mentioned Mim publicly. Possibly because she¡¯d intimidate people.

    ¡°Look at you, amateur alien psychologist.¡± Nadia scoffed. ¡°This is a nice ride. Is either of you nervous you¡¯ll get spacesick?¡±

    Win paled. ¡°Is that a possibility? I¡¯m not great with motion sickness in regular vehicles.¡±

    Sam pointed to an object that looked like a refrigerator. ¡°Maybe they have ginger ale?¡±

    #

    With a lurch, the ship lifted off the ground. Sam listened for engine noise but heard nothing. The ship gathered acceleration and zipped forward. Once on the tarmac, like a helicopter, the ship launched itself up. Sam¡¯s ears popped. His body pressed against the seat, and he focused on keeping his breathing regular.

    The ground quickly dwindled below them. Sam pushed himself up to stagger over to the nearest window and look for his hometown. He picked out a water tower that looked familiar. He¡¯d told his mother the rough time of their departure. He imagined her searching the skies and gasping at the red dot speeding above. He gave a mental wave goodbye.

    ¡°Why isn¡¯t the government freaking out?¡± Nadia asked, still sitting in the middle, her forehead covered in sweat.

    ¡°I wondered that too. Apparently, Tar has a universal clearance,¡± Win informed her.

    ¡°What doesn¡¯t he have?¡± Nadia grumbled.

    They reached a height from which Sam could see the whole topography of the land below. He¡¯d flown once as a child and fondly remembered being glued to the window, gazing upon the vast world. This time, now freed from porthole-size observation windows, he could barely take it all in. He wanted to soak up every last detail.

    Alas, the land continued to shrink and the air grew hazier, like fog that had shed its skin. Wait a second. Wouldn¡¯t the ship get hot as it breached the atmosphere? He touched the floor and even a window. Nope, not even a wisp of heat. They may as well be cruising down the coastal highway.

    The gravity loosened a smidge, just enough to keep them rooted to the floor, but his whole body felt lighter. His shoulders relaxed, and he waved his arms around, like an inflatable tube guy. People would pay out the nose to experience this. If this otherwise didn¡¯t work out, he could always capture the ship and make a living taking guests for space joyrides. Surely a billionaire or two would be interested.

    An electronic voice interrupted his reverie, startling him. ¡°Now departing Earth¡¯s planetary boundary. Travel time to space station designated Sanctum estimated to be two hours, forty-seven minutes, and fifty-three seconds. Guests are invited to help themselves to refreshments in the object correctly identified earlier as a refrigerator. Thank you.¡±

    It took Sam a second to recognize the voice as the same one from the entrance exam. He¡¯d assumed it was just part of the simulation. ¡°I¡¯m sorry? Who are you?¡± he stammered.

    ¡°I am Mega, the AI system that operates Sanctum.¡±

    Crap. An AI had observed him throughout the whole entrance exam? What kinds of things did it know about him now? He looked at the other two, but neither seemed nonplussed. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Sam asked.

    Win gave him a puzzled look. ¡°Mega introduced itself when we started our exams. Didn¡¯t it provide you helpful guidance?¡±

    Sam shook his head slowly. ¡°Not exactly. I did hear a voice, but only after I completed each assessment. Definitely no helpful guidance. Uh, Mega, care to explain?¡±

    ¡°The explanation is that Editor Tar requested different programming for your exam.¡±

    ¡°Huh? Why?¡± Sam¡¯s anger climbed.

    ¡°That information is not available to me.¡±

    Gah. ¡°Great. Again. What¡¯s he playing at?¡± Sam huffed.

    Win scratched his head. ¡°What does he gain by treating you differently?¡±

    ¡°Maybe he believes no pain, no gain?¡± Nadia chipped in.

    Sam did his best to shrug off his annoyance. ¡°There might be something to that. This is partly what I feared when he said you and I have ¡®higher potential.¡¯ That he¡¯d treat us differently. Or just me in this case.¡±

    ¡°So let¡¯s practice what Mim instructed us to do and keep our eyes peeled. Like we talked about,¡± Nadia reasoned.

    Win nodded, pointing above them. Sam got the hint. They were being listened to. The three lapsed into silence.

    The view had changed. ¡°Hey, I think we¡¯re in space now.¡± The other two joined Sam by the windows and let out quiet gasps of astonishment.

    He tried to take it all in. In one direction, the all-pervasive darkness of space. In the other, the Sun, blazing intensely and forcing him to shield his eyes. In between sat the moon, no longer a flat circle but instead round, cratered, and desolate. And most magnificently, Earth, stretching out below them, a magnificent globe of verdant blue, white, and green. His home. A pang of longing struck him. He¡¯d only just left, and yet a part of him already wanted to return.

    Sam could sit in that spot for the rest of his life and keep finding new things to stare at.

    And for the first time since the exam, the itch had gone away.

 8. Departure, Part 2

    The next couple of hours went by quickly. They changed into the uniforms provided, which turned out to be light stretchy jumpsuits. Sam marveled at feeling like an astronaut and pictured himself in a hero¡¯s pose, a text bubble exclaiming he was ¡°going where no human had gone before.¡±

    The three settled into a content quiet, waiting for each new celestial body to announce itself. To start with, Mars was close enough in its orbit that they could just make it out, a distant pinprick of dusty red. They then skipped up and over the asteroid belt, which looked like weirdly oblong rocks in a peculiar state of disarray, scattered like a toy set spilled over.

    Jupiter took Sam¡¯s breath away. It wasn¡¯t all that close to their route but still loomed in the distance, floating along like a beach ball bobbing in a dark sea. The mixture of reds, oranges, and whites in its outer atmosphere was gorgeously lush and vibrant against the backdrop of obsidian space surrounding it.

    Nadia made a joke about the Great Red Spot looking like a pimple she had a couple of weeks ago. Jupiter was too grand for the moment to be ruined.

    At that point, they had gone about two-thirds of the time allotted, and Sam did the math. ¡°Mega, are we going to Saturn?¡±

    ¡°I will infer from your question that you are asking whether Sanctum is in an orbit of Saturn. I can confirm that it is. We will arrive in fifty-three minutes.¡±

    Wow. Would they be living within striking distance of one of the solar system¡¯s most notable and gorgeous features?

    Sam couldn¡¯t tear his eyes away from the windows in anticipation. Slowly, a faint dot grew into a blurry, pale almond, encircled by a glowing halo.

    They drew closer and the planet in front of them positively gleamed, mysterious and otherworldly. There was a staggering number of different hues of brown, tan, and orange stratified among the clouds, swirling in jagged, disorienting patterns. He wanted to mix them all together like you would a root beer float and imagined himself tipping the planet over for a gulp of frothy goodness.

    He next took in the rings. When he first glanced at them, they were whole and graspable, hula hoops in perpetual suspended motion. But as he stared at them, they dissolved into a multitude of tiny, glittering fragments of ice and rock, all held in concert while still visibly spinning. He could spend years picking out each object. His mind boggled.

    Sam also spied an interesting variety of moons, most looking like sanitized hunks of lifeless rock, but a few stood out, including a two-toned walnut, a beautifully hazy orange marble, and a distinctly dark, weirdly shaped object. The ship crept toward the last one, and Sam realized it wasn¡¯t a moon at all, but a manmade¡ªXarlogic-made, rather¡ªstructure.

    His imagination had conjured plenty of possibilities for what his new home might look like, most drawn from classic science fiction stories. He realized how often human pop culture grafted other paradigms into their expectations for space stations: horror, westerns, war. None of those accurately captured what he saw in front of him. The slate-colored station was smooth, sleek, and shaped like a tetrahedron, though with rounded edges. A transparent glass pyramid occupied the sizable middle area, revealing a landscape of verdant green with a smattering of fuzzy blue, white, and brown. The design appeared unquestionably alien¡ªself-assured, time-tested, and almost sensual in the way it hung against the backdrop of stars.

    The station grew nearer and nearer, and they soon found themselves slipping into the barely visible opening of a hangar. The ship touched down noiselessly.

    They¡¯d arrived.

    Mega announced, ¡°We¡¯ve arrived at Sanctum. Please exit the ship. Don¡¯t forget your things.¡±

    Sam peered down the extended ramp. The interior of the hangar revealed itself as nondescript and utilitarian, all surfaces gleaming and clean. This was it. Once they left the safe confines of the shuttle, any pretense of returning to Earth would be banished for good.

    ¡°You know, we¡¯re about to record a lot of firsts. Whoever exits first will be the one whose name gets remembered in the history books.¡± Win stood to his side, his foot hovering over the top of the ramp.

    ¡°Rock, paper, scissors for it?¡± Sam made a fist and pounded his palm.

    ¡°Same time? We¡¯ll be in the books together, though uh, my name is first alphabetically of course.¡± Win grinned.

    Sam shook his head, then worked vigorously to place his feet on the station¡¯s surface at the exact same moment as Win. Right as he did so, he heard a small gasp from Nadia behind him. A figure had joined them. At first glance, he recognized that the greeter was neither Xarlogic nor human. Thrill went up Sam¡¯s spine. He was about to meet a second type of alien.

    The newcomer stood on two feet, shorter than Sam but not by much. They had golden-brown, rough, segmented skin reminiscent of reptiles, as well as gaunt features highlighted by a pronounced forehead and cheekbones. A buzzcut of thin black hair and a utilitarian outfit of tanned hide gave the impression of a weathered journeyman.

    ¡°Welcome. Our first recruits. We couldn¡¯t be more excited to have ya. My name is Wendellieixt, but can you call me Wendell. And oh, uh, the Editor instructed me to tell you I¡¯m male since your language uses pronouns.¡± He spoke English languidly, the words acquiring a raspy bite as they left his throat. When pronouncing his name, he uttered a few syllables Sam couldn¡¯t reproduce if he tried.

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    He took a short bow. The three stood in surprised silence before Nadia put her hand out. ¡°Hi, Wendell. I¡¯m Nadia Azza. This is my brother, Sam, and our friend Win. We¡¯re not normally a shy group, but we¡¯re all in a bit of shock, you know?¡±

    Wendell smiled, his teeth pointy and the color of ivory. ¡°Of course, of course. Leaving your home and all that? You are most brave. Maybe a bit rash. But hey, I can¡¯t blame you. Those Xarlogics sure know how to sell us lesser beings hard. I mean, I¡¯m here, aren¡¯t I?¡±

    The fact that he let the occasional vowel drop caused Sam to wonder if he was trying to inculcate a more easygoing impression. His posture indicated casual friendliness, but Sam spotted him squeezing his hands together behind his back.

    Win studied the new alien with clear enthusiasm. ¡°What exactly do you do here? You don¡¯t have a title like Tar and Mim?¡±

    Wendell chuckled. ¡°Oh no. Those titles are for followers of The Path only. Before you ask, I can¡¯t tell you anything about it. It¡¯s not my area, seeing as I¡¯m the station engineer.¡± He pointed to a door behind him. ¡°Besides myself, the station is fully staffed by droids. Cheap labor compared to hired hands. Plus, it makes it easy for Mega to keep everything running smoothly. But somebody¡¯s gotta see to the mechanics of it all. I¡¯m also helping out with guest liaisons so to speak, so if Mega ever can¡¯t help you properly, come to me and I¡¯ll get ya what you need.

    ¡°For now, follow me and let¡¯s drop off your things at your quarters. Then I¡¯ll give you the tour. It¡¯ll be another day before more recruits arrive, so you¡¯ll have the run of the place for a little while. Enjoy it while it lasts.¡± He made to wink but just scrunched his face in apparent discomfort. ¡°Sorry, trying to employ what I learned about human social cues to make ya all feel more at home, but I don¡¯t think I have the exact physiology to do that right.¡±

    Sam felt a pang of sympathy for the alien. He seemed to be out of his element.

    He beckoned them to follow. They entered a hallway made from the same dark substance as the outside of the station, giving the interior a cool organic feel. It was wide and brightly lit. They arrived at a sliding door with a glossy pad to the side.

    ¡°You three are lucky because you¡¯ve got each other. Doubt anybody else coming will have any friends along. We arranged for you to share a living space together. The boss must like you.¡± He gave them a conspiratorial smile¡ªmuch more naturally, maybe smiling was a universal expression¡ªbefore flashing a gadget on his wrist over the pad.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be giving you your access devices at the end of the tour. You¡¯ll need them to enter any interior room in the station, so keep them on at all times, even while you¡¯re sleeping. Should we get attacked by a tetractworm¡ªyou¡¯ve heard of them, right? The ones that tunnel through space and take out space stations like this, all on their lonesome? When that happens, you don¡¯t want to be scrounging around for your wristband.¡±

    Sam¡¯s face screwed up in worry. That couldn¡¯t be a real thing, right? His concern was alleviated when Wendell laughed, a hoarse, dry sound, not unlike a lizard coughing. ¡°Sorry, it¡¯s a little joke I use to entertain myself when I¡¯m around those new to traveling in space like yourself. The odds of one of those beasts making their way here is slim to none. They¡¯re a real problem in more densely populated space but not out this far. You know, Tar tells me my jokes are terrible, but what does he know?¡±

    The door slid open. Wendell held his hand out. ¡°After you.¡±

    Sam was the closest and took a step inside. A spacious great room stretched in front of him, with a sitting area and a kitchen. The furniture exuded comfortable sumptuousness. A hallway branched off to the side, presumably leading to their bedrooms.

    Wendell pointed a clawed hand to a corner, where a desk was located, a transparent screen affixed to the wall above it. ¡°That instrument there is similar to one of your computers. Win, you¡¯ll be able to use it to keep up with your summer classes. Just be sure not to tell anybody still planet-bound where you are.¡±

    Their contracts forbade them from spilling the news that they¡¯d been recruited, other than with family. Win had pointed out to Tar that a legion of internet sleuths was closely monitoring everything that the Xarlogic did and would quickly piece together their identities. Tar had responded that ¡°higher authorities¡± had stipulated ¡°boilerplate language¡± when dealing with ¡°pregalactic civilizations.¡± He wasn¡¯t bothered by the prospect of the public figuring things out¡ªthe information just couldn¡¯t come from them directly. Sam had found the whole exchange a bit alarming. The idea of the internet focusing on him was not a pleasant one. He didn¡¯t want anybody to harass his family or friends. Tar had indicated he had methods to counter that possibility but hadn¡¯t elaborated.

    The most arresting feature of the apartment was another spectacular view of space. Right now, they faced Saturn directly. Just the rings on their own took up half the view. The design choice felt purposeful, as if Tar wanted to ensure they felt properly dazzled. If so, he¡¯d succeeded.

    His tone incredulous, Win asked, ¡°This will be the view every day?¡±

    Wendell replied, ¡°Oh yes. I¡¯d advise all of ya though to be careful. Being in space has a way of playing tricks on our minds.¡± He gazed out the window, his expression contemplative. ¡°The Xarlogics, you know they have a reverence for space. Field of night, they call it. Ager nox. Tar and Mim, what they probably haven¡¯t told you yet is that they can live forever, should they choose.¡±

    Sam¡¯s mouth went dry. They¡¯re immortal?

    ¡°That¡¯s right, the Xarlogics genetically engineered themselves out of death. But their brains can¡¯t always handle living that long. It does funny things to them. They engage in more and more complicated schemes, anything to keep their minds active. When the strain becomes unbearable, some of them, well, they rip themselves apart in a burst of misplaced glory.¡± Wendell shook his head in sympathy, even as his lips curled in revulsion. ¡°Others, they silently break. Morning comes, and you look to see if any ships have departed overnight. They never come back. The night takes them, as the expression goes.¡±

    ¡°How awful,¡± Win murmured. Sam turned away from the view and took a deep, calming breath.

    A minute stretched by before Wendell shook himself. ¡°Be forewarned, the universe will present you with many such choices. All good things come with a price. But returning to more practical matters, if you ever need a break from the view, you can use the panel on the wall there to make the windows opaque.¡±

    He demonstrated, and the view disappeared. Soft lighting flickered on, creating a warm and comfortable atmosphere, contrasting with the cold vacuum they¡¯d been observing. The tension that Wendell¡¯s tale had leavened within Sam unspooled. Whatever might await them outside in the darkness, they¡¯d be safe here.

 9. Meditation, Part 1

    They put their suitcases down, and Wendell recommenced the tour. It took some time to exit the residential area, which took up a sizable chunk of the station. Not surprising since each recruit would be given a private apartment. It seemed inefficient, if highly generous, and Sam suspected that Tar sought to impress the recruits with his largesse.

    They stopped by a library, a recreation room, and a gym, all accessible at any time. The sight of a basketball court surprised and pleased Sam. A little bit of home that would be of comfort to him.

    In response to a question from Win, Wendell shared that the library had some books they might find helpful in their training.

    They turned a corner and entered what Sam guessed to be a mess hall, given the rows of tables and the serving area.

    ¡°Of course, we¡¯ll keep you fed. Mind you, the droids aren¡¯t great cooks, but the food is serviceable. You can collect vegetables and fruits from the garden in the Central Park if you like and prepare them in your apartment. No meat, I¡¯m afraid, though we have substitutes available. I know you humans are fond of it, but the Xarlogics don¡¯t eat it and won¡¯t tolerate having it in their domiciles.¡±

    ¡°How forward-thinking,¡± Win suggested.

    ¡°Not especially, it¡¯s not for ethical reasons. They say it messes up their precious metabolism.¡± Wendell threw his hands up dismissively, as if the secrets of the Xarlogics¡¯ long lives were comparable to a diet fad.

    Nadia spoke up. ¡°Engineer Wendell¡ª¡±

    ¡°No title please. Just Wendell is fine.¡±

    ¡°Okay. This may be a little straightforward, but what kind of alien are you?¡±

    Wendell¡¯s ever-present smile flipped itself into a frown. ¡°What was that?¡±

    ¡°Actually, never mind, forget I asked,¡± Nadia stammered.

    Wendell grunted, took a breath, and his expression relaxed. ¡°Sorry, translation issues. Happens sometimes. Thought you called me a . . . I think the word would be cockroach. Some version of them exists on every planet. But getting back to your question, my world of origin is called Prixyt, and generally you can call my people by that same name. We¡¯re a close neighbor to the Xarlogic homeworld and have been part of their¡ªor the, I should say¡ªDominion for almost our entire known history.¡±

    Win was taking in every word. ¡°That¡¯s fascinating. I¡¯d love to learn more about your world sometime.¡±

    ¡°Aye, I¡¯d be happy to tell you, but I can¡¯t say you¡¯ll have much extra time to be chatting with me, at least once things get going. Here now, I¡¯ll point out the training rooms, but you can enter on your own later. For now, I want to show you the best place in Sanctum.¡±

    After they exited the mess hall, a plastic, hovering cylinder came up behind them. Its surface was completely smooth, other than a dark band that circled the top and a pair of grasping tools that extended from its sides. It seemed a bit like a floating, futuristic trash can, but Sam kept that thought to himself.

    It chirped at them in what sounded like an inquiry.

    Wendell looked back. ¡°Ah, one of our service droids. Mega, care to say hi?¡±

    The droid tilted forward in a mock bow and vocalized, ¡°Hello, I am a friendly moving robot, designated unit 429. I¡¯m just going about my day, seeing to the needs of the station.¡±

    Wendell tilted his head back and laughed uproariously. Sam wondered just how long Tar and Mim had been away from the station.

    After Wendell calmed down, he explained. ¡°The droids are all extensions of Mega and won¡¯t normally interact with you. If you need anything, just address Mega directly. It can hear you from all parts of the station.¡±

    Win raised his hand furtively. ¡°How capable is Mega exactly?¡±

    Wendell smirked and didn¡¯t skip a beat in responding. ¡°There¡¯s no sense keeping your voice down. I can guess the reason for your question, and there¡¯s nothing to worry about. It¡¯s a known fact that most spacefaring nations have dealt with artificial intelligence run amok. Get a Wjyyr and a Metraxis together, and oh, boy, they¡¯d have some stories to tell you. But don¡¯t worry, we all work together now to monitor and suppress rogue AI. So no, as fond of it as I am, Mega is simply a program, though I have added some human personality coding to help you all feel more at home.¡±

    Sam rubbed the sweat off his forehead. ¡°That is good news. The galaxy seems complicated enough as it is.¡±

    Wendell chuckled. ¡°You don¡¯t know the half of it.¡±

    They soon arrived at a more heavyset, secure door with a bold-lettered sign next to it that read Warning: Entrance Requires Decontamination.

    ¡°We¡¯ll only be able to go in one at a time. Decontamination is innocuous, just a quick pulse of radiation to eliminate any germs that would affect the environment inside. Nadia, we¡¯ll start with you.¡±

    One by one they entered, Sam going third with Wendell behind him. He stepped into a small chamber. The walls sparkled unnaturally, and the unflattering glare of the overhead light reminded Sam of changing rooms at a mall clothing store. At least this room held no mirrors.

    Mega¡¯s voice sounded out. ¡°Please hold. Be advised that the procedure is harmless.¡±

    The room briefly filled with a quick-moving particulate, similar to steam. It glommed onto Sam¡¯s skin, and he braced himself for pain, but instead it felt like a warm shower. He instinctively held his breath, but the moisture entered his nose instead. It smelled and tasted like chlorine-laced pool water, and Sam barely kept from gagging.

    ¡°You may exit.¡±

    Feeling wobbly, he opened the door on the other side of the chamber. Instead of another hallway, an enormous spectrum of green greeted him, bathed in bright daylight. The temperature, akin to that of a crisp late-spring day, gave him goosebumps. Foliage was interspersed throughout, including a mixture of mature oaks, elms, and beech trees that provided ample shade. Gently sloping hills shaped the landscape, and around the corner of one, Sam spotted the beginning of a pale blue lake, abutted by a sandy beach. A few droids casually made their way around the habitat, carefully pruning and manicuring.

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    Wendell emerged from the doorway, wearing a grin as wide as his face. ¡°Welcome to my pride and joy, known as Central Park. I¡¯m sure you saw it on your approach, it makes up about half of the station. Studies show that access to greenery is crucial for happiness amongst all living things. It cost a pretty penny to build this, but Tar agreed to spring for it to help ease your transition. He made the right choice.¡±

    He gestured to a map and a signpost, standing in front of a dirt path. ¡°Like your version on Earth, there are a few hidden surprises. You should poke around when you get a chance.¡±

    ¡°This is amazing, Wendell,¡± Sam said.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you a robotics engineer? You created this?¡± Win asked.

    Wendell¡¯s head bobbed with enthusiasm. ¡°Gardening is my second love. Keeping an ecosystem like this in equilibrium takes a lot of work and planning. Everything has to be just right. It¡¯s similar to engineering but without the explosions if you make a mistake. I find it relaxing.¡±

    ¡°So I take it none of the surprises will blow us up?¡± Nadia asked.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t say that.¡±

    #

    Wendell ended the tour by showing them the location of his office (¡°Just knock if you need me.¡±) and the wing where Tar and Mim had their living area and offices (¡°Eh, don¡¯t bother, they won¡¯t answer.¡±). Sam had a decent sense of direction and could tell they hadn¡¯t accounted for about a quarter of the station yet. When asked, Wendell patted his shoulder and said it was ¡°power systems and station defense¡± and wouldn¡¯t explain further.

    The hallway lights dimmed and yellowed in an approximation of evening, and Wendell led them back to their apartment. Before leaving, he handed them their access devices as promised, which were thin black bands that fit snugly over their wrists.

    The absence of Wendell¡¯s expansive presence left Sam to dwell on his new reality. He¡¯d departed Earth only just that morning and now lived in an extraplanetary artificial environment. The most bizarre aspect of it all? The sense of comfort and ease that had accumulated throughout the day. He¡¯d expected the station to be outlandish and disorienting, but its designer clearly knew how to meet human sensibilities. Tar was a professional.

    He chatted distractedly with the other two for a bit, but it was easy to tell that they were all exhausted and needed time to digest the day on their own, and they soon retired to their rooms. Lying on his plush bed, Sam sent an email to his mother to assure her the journey had gone smoothly. He then pulled out the drawing pad he had brought with him and sketched for a little while, trying to recreate some of the wonders he had seen. He eventually fell into a dreamless, heavy sleep.

    During breakfast the next morning, Mega confirmed that the next batch of recruits would be arriving the next day. With just one day to themselves, they each decided to pursue different plans. Nadia chose to explore Central Park and practice her ¡°noticing¡± and asked the droids to pack her a picnic. Win retired to their apartment to take time to write to his grandparents. They¡¯d parted on lukewarm terms, and he was hoping to help them better understand his decision.

    Sam, on the other hand, sought out the training rooms. Might as well get a leg up.

    He entered a cavernous room with high vaulted ceilings and padded walls. At one end, small devices were embedded in the floor in a wide circle, giving the impression of a circus ring. Sitting in the middle of the circle felt presumptuous, but it wasn¡¯t like anybody else was there to comment.

    He chose to focus on the other part of Mim¡¯s instructions, meditation.

    Besides one time when an assistant coach attempted to lead a session, which ended in most of the players snoring, Sam had never seriously meditated before. The idea of it seemed somewhat contrived. Close your eyes, breathe slowly, and unlock inner peace. Could it really be so simple?

    But the experience of the exam stuck with him. He remembered the feeling of his thoughts being denied, of that all-encompassing forced emptiness. It hadn¡¯t felt scary or strange. Instead, it reminded him of various times in his life. He recalled those moments during basketball games when he acted out of pure instinct, his mind taking second fiddle to the muscles of his body. Those were the times he played the best, like a machine but with joy.

    Or when he sketched and looked up and evening had fallen. He became immersed in creating the image he held in his mind¡¯s eye. He didn¡¯t think about it, he just drew, and the act gave him contentment. Put another way, it reminded him of those first few minutes when you wake up from a nap, wrapped in blissful warmth.

    That same feeling had happened again when he faced Auroch. He had grasped that the key to using aether as active energy required a state of stillness.

    Now, he hoped to duplicate that state of mind. If he had managed it during a moment of great stress, surely he could do so now while under no pressure at all. He closed his eyes, and he began to breathe slowly. This went on for a few minutes.

    To his chagrin, his thoughts abounded. Has this all been a dream? How is Ma doing? What is Tar up to? They kept coming. He¡¯d fight off one line of thought and another would pop up to replace it. He felt like an ant trying to climb a mountain. And this was while sitting in an empty room, alone.

    His frustration crested, and he stood up in agitation. He paced the room, but no solution presented itself. Fine. He would go to the gym, find something to distract him, and then try again.

    Except. A point that had nagged at him coalesced into realization. He was an ant. An ant now in the middle of space, only a thin sheet of alien-made wall away from a quick death. Then what? Then all of this didn¡¯t matter.

    He felt himself shudder but also calm. There was strength in that understanding. If this didn¡¯t matter, if he could die at any second, then maybe it would be okay to let his mind rest. His mind already did so, so much. It could take a break.

    And so he sat. Time passed.

    His eyelids grew heavy, and he started to feel sleepy, but a familiar sensation stopped him. Eyes still closed, he realized that a mote of energy floated in front of him. It beckoned him like before. He held out his hand, and it danced along his palm.

    Curiously, his mind didn¡¯t explode with a thousand different thoughts. Instead, he remained intent on the mote of energy. As if being fed, it spread and grew bigger.

    Something stung him. He opened his eyes and saw little bolts of electricity crackle between his fingers. Despite the pain, they didn¡¯t burn or scar him. He let his hand relax, and the bolts discharged.

    A voice above startled him. ¡°Well done, Sam. You¡¯ve gained mastery of the first step of The Path. This, in turn, enhanced your insight into the second step. The Editor will be pleased.¡±

    ¡°Uh, thanks, Mega? It¡¯s a little creepy that you¡¯ve been watching me this whole time.¡± He pointedly stared at the ceiling.

    ¡°I am unable to discern the meaning of the word ¡®creepy¡¯ in this context.¡±

    ¡°I mean that it¡¯s uncomfortable to be watched without knowing it.¡± He sighed, recognizing he was wasting his time. ¡°Forget it. But wait, I thought I already reached the second step. How am I still making progress on the first one?¡± He paused as another question occurred to him. ¡°Also, as an AI, how do you know about this?¡±

    The voice took a second to respond. ¡°I will answer your second question to start with. Due to my role in administering the entrance exams, I was provided programming enabling me to gauge and assess progress on the first phase of The Path, the Legion stage. I have incomplete information regarding your first question, but it is understood that The Path is not linear. You can continue to make progress on different steps simultaneously.¡±

    Sam replied, ¡°Okay, I see. No, I lied, I don¡¯t really, but that is still helpful to know. Thank you, Mega.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re welcome, Ascendant-to-be Azza.¡±

    Sam wanted to ask about the use of the title but figured he¡¯d get a cryptic response and so he let it go.

    Rather than repeat the earlier exercise, he let his mind meander. Thinking about the thin barrier between him and death had helped the discovery process but also left him disturbed.

 10. Meditation, Part 2

    That evening, Sam reconvened with Win and Nadia, and the three sat down for dinner. The droids had obligingly delivered their meal to their apartment, including a so-called Xarlogic delicacy. Despite looking like a bowl of black sludge, it tasted heavenly, like pepper-crusted steak (or portabello mushroom, according to the resident vegetarian Win). They asked Wendell to join, but he conveyed that he still had droids to fix in preparation for the upcoming arrivals.

    That night, Saturn hid, and a vast view of space stretched out in front of them. No longer competing with the ringed planet¡¯s magnificence, rays of the Sun stretched across the cosmos.

    Although not one to usually drink very much, Sam thought the occasion of their full day in space deserved a toast. Fortunately, Tar had stocked the station with human alcoholic beverages. Wendell had predictably declined to share any alcohol of nonhuman origin with them. They each poured themselves a glass of champagne.

    ¡°To new adventures.¡± Sam raised his glass.

    ¡°To learning to use aether.¡± Nadia tapped his glass with her own.

    ¡°To friends,¡± Win joined in. He slipped a quick glance toward Nadia and had the temerity to flash a shy smile.

    Sam tried not to fumble his glass, quickly raising it to his mouth to hide his reaction from Win. Oh. Ohhhhh. The restaurant visits weren¡¯t so innocent after all. Was he upset about it? No, of course not¡ªit just required wrapping his head around the idea. He looked over at Nadia, but she remained oblivious. He¡¯d talk to Win but resolved not to interfere. Both because he wanted to respect healthy boundaries with his sister, and no matter what way her feelings lay, she¡¯d stab Sam in his sleep if he did.

    A couple of sips later and the afterglow made his face warm. It felt nice. But more than the champagne, he¡¯d had a good day and was now enjoying time with two of his favorite people. I think this is happiness. He wanted the moment to last.

    He had told Nadia and Win that he had a development that day and promised he¡¯d explain over dinner. Now seemed as good a time as any. ¡°Do you know how we talked about the first two steps of this so-called Path during the entrance exams? When I tried meditating this afternoon, I was able to recreate some of what I did. I used aether to create energy.¡± He dropped his voice down to an almost-whisper. ¡°I was able to make lightning.¡±

    Nadia¡¯s eyes bulged. ¡°You¡¯re kidding. Seriously? How?¡±

    ¡°Lightning? Already?¡± Win said at the same exact time.

    They both moved up to the ends of their chairs and leaned so far in that their faces became gigantic, making Sam laugh.

    ¡°At first it was hell. I sat there, telling myself over and over again to stop thinking, but all that did was make me think more. Sounds idiotic, right? What I learned was, you can¡¯t shout at your mind that it needs to act a certain way. You need to give it a reason, just like when your stomach knows it¡¯s empty, and so it tells your brain you need to eat.¡±

    Nadia¡¯s mouth opened, then closed. ¡°I both completely get what you¡¯re saying and have absolutely no idea what you mean. Thanks, I think?¡±

    Win took off his glasses and rubbed the sides of his head. ¡°Yes, I agree with Nadia.¡± Of course you do. ¡°This might be one of those things where we have to figure it out for ourselves. Tell us more about the lightning though.¡±

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    Sam drummed the table with his fingers. ¡°I thought the sparks I made during the exam were created by the staff I used. But now that I¡¯ve made them on my own, I¡¯m guessing my affinity is related to electricity. It¡¯d be great to know more about what that means exactly, but for now, it feels right. How about you both, any sense of what yours might be?¡±

    ¡°I do. Or at least an idea. Something to do with speed.¡± Win spun his spoon around the edge of his bowl. ¡°I was able to move super-fast while I faced off against the book monster. At first, I kept tripping and got cut up pretty bad. But I got the hold of it eventually.¡±

    ¡°Hold up, you fought a book monster?¡± Nadia deadpanned.

    Win let out a forced-sounding chuckle. ¡°Well, yes, and I get that it sounds a bit silly, but can you take my word for it that it was horrifying? We were in a library, and I¡¯d spot these beady eyes appear from around a book stack. That would be the sign that I¡¯d next have razor-sharp pages shot at me. I love books, as you both know, and I haven¡¯t been able to look at one since.¡± He lowered his voice. ¡°I resent Tar for that.¡±

    ¡°Whatever you say.¡± Nadia elbowed him, inducing a light blush. ¡°It¡¯s just funny that you faced off against a book and Sam against a cow. Jokes on you both because I fought against a serious opponent.¡± She shivered and then scowled. ¡°One of my regulars at the diner, this older lady that comes in every Wednesday for dinner. Except it¡¯s usually at four in the afternoon, when nobody else is there, and she orders me around the whole time. Man, do I hate her.¡±

    Nadia had pointed out the lady in question to Sam before, and fair enough, she¡¯d probably wipe the floor with Auroch.

    Nadia took a second to collect herself. ¡°Given that she¡¯s the worst, go figure that the Xarlogics somehow knew I¡¯d be terrified of her. The exam version had a pair of sewing needles with daggers at the end that she constantly threw at me. When she wasn¡¯t chasing me around the diner, screaming about free refills and iced water with lemon.¡±

    Win soberly patted her shoulder, while Sam stifled his laughter and tried to look as sympathetic as possible. ¡°That sounds terrible. How¡¯d you win?¡±

    ¡°I used my surroundings. There were other customers there. I made them fight her.¡± She stopped, as if that answered everything.

    Sam squinted at her. ¡°What do you mean, made them fight her?¡±

    Nadia looked to the side, avoiding eye contact. ¡°Whenever I was close to somebody, I could sense this strange sort of field around them. Then I was able to push against that field, and if I conveyed my intent as strongly as I could, they¡¯d do what I wanted. I don¡¯t know how to explain it better than that.¡±

    ¡°Huh. That¡¯s . . . impressive. And frightening, to be honest,¡± Sam said.

    ¡°I concur. That¡¯s an incredible skill, but I wouldn¡¯t want to get on your bad side,¡± Win added, the shy grin making its return.

    ¡°Yeah, well, I still need to see if it was all just a product of my head. If I practice tomorrow, can somebody help me out? Who wants to be my guinea pig?¡± She gave a short breezy laugh, then her face dropped, and she stared at them both.

    Sam and Win looked at each other. Win paled and shook his head with vigor, and Sam threw up his hands in resignation. ¡°Fine. You¡¯ll owe me for this though, Nadia. Maybe I¡¯ll need somebody to practice shooting lighting at.¡±

    Nadia stretched, cracked her back, and grinned. ¡°Bring it on.¡±

    While getting ready for bed later that evening, Sam contemplated a question that had preoccupied him during dinner. Both Win and Nadia had faced opponents in the entrance exam that reflected their circumstances in life. In turn, both seemed to have gained catharsis from the experience. They¡¯d arrived at the station less encumbered by the worries that had previously plagued their daily lives. In Sam¡¯s case though, there was no obvious line to draw. It was hardly like he¡¯d dealt with cows on a daily basis, or ghosts, for that matter.

    Or what if it¡¯s less literal than that? The takeaway that stood out to him was his response to the denigrating words thrown at him. They¡¯d stirred him to action, coming from society (the pompous noble) and an unbeatable opponent (Auroch, like so many opposing teams he¡¯d faced). They¡¯d given him permission to step outside his role as the dutiful son and put it all on the line. He¡¯d gone into the exam under siege, full of self-doubt. His performance served as the reminder of the person he believed himself to be¡ªa fighter.

    And hey, if he met an alien species of cow in the coming months, he¡¯d know exactly what to do.

 11. Newcomers, Part 1

    The next day, as requested, Mega set off the morning alarm bright and early. Sam had talked the other two into a bit of morning exercise and led them through drills, including the always loved ¡°run laps¡± and ¡°dribble while running through cones.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, this sucks.¡± Nadia dropped down to the floor of the gym with a harumph.

    Win leaned against the wall, panting. ¡°Sam, you¡¯re my friend, but you might not be after this.¡±

    ¡°Come on, you two. I guarantee you Mim is going to put us through a lot worse.¡± Sam tried to resist smiling smugly. He may not be as gifted socially as Nadia or as naturally smart as Win, but he could move around pretty well.

    He noticed Win close his eyes and grow still and guessed he was trying to use aether. He walked over and tapped his shoulder. ¡°None of that. We¡¯re doing this the old-fashioned way. Consider it payback for those late nights of studying.¡±

    Win groaned. ¡°Oh, right, I helped you get good grades. I¡¯m so terrible.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s got pent-up resentment against both of us. Finally, the truth comes out,¡± Nadia supplied.

    Sam laughed, only a touch maniacally. ¡°All right, all right. Back to it. We need to make a good first impression on the new recruits.¡±

    A couple of hours later, they had showered and dressed in freshly pressed uniforms, which apparently would be supplied by the droids daily. Mega had explained the uniforms were required for anything official, but they could wear their own clothes otherwise.

    Wendell knocked on their door to collect them on his way to the hangar.

    ¡°So who¡¯s joining us?¡± Nadia asked.

    ¡°Let¡¯s see, yes?¡± Wendell touched his wristband. It projected a hologram showing three faces.

    ¡°Can ours do that too?¡± Win pointed at Wendell¡¯s band.

    ¡°Yes, but not yet. You¡¯ll learn to use the more advanced features during combat sessions. So hmm, who do we have here? Looks like a contingent from Europe. Where are you three from again?¡±

    ¡°The United States,¡± Sam answered.

    ¡°Oh yes, yes. I suspect we¡¯ll have recruits from all over your planet. So many different governments to placate. You really are a fractious species. Us Prixyt, we get along well, but then again having a common enemy will do that. What I wouldn¡¯t give¡ª¡± He reddened, clammed his mouth shut, and flattened his ears against his head, which Sam took as a sign of embarrassment.

    ¡°Who is your enemy?¡± Nadia asked, missing the cue for subtlety.

    ¡°Strike that, forget I said anything. One other tidbit for ya all is that we had to limit our recruits to those who speak English, to ease communication on the station. You can use aether to imprint languages directly into someone¡¯s head, like I¡¯ve done with English¡±¡ªhe tapped the side of his head¡ª¡°but it¡¯s never been used on humans before, and so that will be something we try out later.¡±

    ¡°I had been wondering that, and do I sound like a broken record player if I ask, what do you mean, later?¡± Win asked.

    ¡°Well, you¡¯ll all need to know Liberated Standard to get by at the Arena, and I sure as Ebulon won¡¯t be teaching you. Not my rodeo, teaching is. But back to the question at hand. All right, we¡¯ve got Roisin from Ireland, Elias from Belgium, and Matteo from Italy.¡±

    The three all looked to be similar in age to Sam, either college age or not much older. Roisin had curly red hair and a lively open smile, while Matteo had wavy chestnut hair and a roguish smirk.

    It was Elias that caught Sam¡¯s attention. Unlike the other two, he wasn¡¯t smiling, his mouth flattened into a thin line. His expression was tired and a bit sad. He seemed unhappy to be here.

    ¡°Wendell, is everybody going to be the same age? There are no veterans or athletes older than us who would be better able to compete right off the bat?¡± Win asked.

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    ¡°Aether is not my area of expertise, as I¡¯ve shared already, but from what I know, there¡¯s an age range where you¡¯re old enough to grasp the intricacies of it while . . .¡± He paused, considering. ¡°Well, to be honest, while you¡¯re still impressionable enough that you can soak it all up quickly. And not challenge Tar and Mim regarding their authority. Maybe that last one especially.¡± He chuckled to himself.

    Win pursed his lips. ¡°Understandable. They want us to learn quickly and do what they say. I appreciate your honesty.¡±

    Wendell gave a slight shrug. ¡°The Editor doesn¡¯t pay me to keep my mouth shut, so it¡¯s nothing to me.¡±

    Mega¡¯s cheery voice interrupted them. ¡°Ship approaching. Please stay inside the enclosed viewing area while the landing process commences.¡±

    The saucer shuttle made a graceful entrance, its spindly legs touching the ground without a single wobble. In a repeat of the day before, the ramp extended, and the three new recruits cautiously made their exit.

    Roisin and Matteo came out first, peering around with eyes full of wonder. In contrast, Elias stared straight ahead, his expression neutral. He was as tall as Sam, which as usual made Sam wonder if he ever played basketball, but he also looked to be skinny in an unnatural way. Unlike the other two, he hadn¡¯t changed into his uniform and was dressed in dark distressed jeans, a white shirt, and a denim jacket. His short, curly black hair was styled in a hi-top fade.

    Wendell made for the door to the viewing area. ¡°Follow me, folks.¡±

    After Wendell gave his introductory spiel (and failed to mention Elias¡¯s clothing-related act of rebellion), the group introduced themselves and shared a round of handshakes, though Matteo gave Nadia a cheek kiss, who took it in stride. Sam noted Win¡¯s furrowed brow and chuckled to himself.

    Elias¡¯s handshake was firm but rigid, and Sam took the occasion to search his face. He could see the same hints of sadness and pain he had gleaned from the portrait photo. Noticing Sam¡¯s gaze, Elias frowned, and Sam quickly let his hand go.

    They awkwardly stood in place until Matteo asked, ¡°How is your time on the station going so far? It is crazy to me that we are here.¡±

    Nadia leaped in with an answer. ¡°You¡¯re in for a treat. I found a good place to garden yesterday, over in Central Park. Then I sat under a waterfall and read a book. It was lovely.¡±

    Matteo smiled at her warmly. ¡°That¡¯s so nice to hear. I was worried they would put us in space boot camp.¡±

    Wendell chuckled. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t discount that possibility just yet. You don¡¯t know what you¡¯re in for.¡±

    #

    After the newcomers completed their tour and rejoined them for a conservation-filled lunch (minus the taciturn Elias), the rest of the day unfurled similarly to the last. Nadia chose to return to plant her garden, with Matteo and Roisin requesting to join her. Sam had elbowed Win and wiggled his eyebrows, but Win shook his head with a pained look on his face.

    Win accompanied Sam to the training hall. Once inside, Win took a deep breath and began to walk back and forth. ¡°So you figured it out?¡±

    Sam couldn¡¯t hide a smirk. ¡°Seeing how much time we¡¯ve spent together lately, it was hard to miss.¡±

    ¡°Right. I suppose I haven¡¯t hidden it well then.¡± Win rubbed the back of his neck.

    Sam gave Win¡¯s shoulder a friendly pat. ¡°To one as well-versed in the annals of love as me¡ªI¡¯m totally being sarcastic¡ªbut yes, the signs are pretty clear. But if I had to guess, Nadia has no idea. You¡¯d know it if she did.¡±

    ¡°I figured.¡± Win inhaled and looked down. ¡°It¡¯s best I put it aside anyways. Now isn¡¯t the best time to be distracted.¡±

    Sam tilted his head, not fully conceding the point. ¡°What if this whole situation is what gives you that extra motivation to succeed?¡±

    Win nodded slowly. ¡°I suppose so. Does that mean . . . err, what I¡¯m trying to say is . . . Damn, I give up.¡± He rolled his head back and groaned.

    Sam was charmed by Win¡¯s uncharacteristic fumbling of words, and it took him a second to figure out the question. He slung an arm around Win¡¯s shoulders. ¡°For what it¡¯s worth, I¡¯d say go for it. You¡¯re already like a brother to me. The last couple of semesters would have been hell without you. Don¡¯t ever tell her I said this, but Nadia would be lucky to have you.¡±

    Win blushed. ¡°Thank you, Sam.¡±

    ¡°So you were eating breakfast at the diner and just happened to meet my sister, huh?¡± Sam lifted an eyebrow accusatorily.

    Win had the grace to look embarrassed. ¡°It wasn¡¯t like that. When we met, I didn¡¯t know she was your sister. After I¡¯d already gotten to know her well, I figured it out after you told me about your family. But, I would never do anything to put my client relationships at risk.¡±

    Win¡¯s expression was so serious that Sam couldn¡¯t help but snicker. Win frowned and threw Sam¡¯s arm off him. ¡°Why are you laughing? I¡¯m being serious.¡±

    ¡°I know, I¡¯m sorry. I would never doubt your ethics. So then, wait, why are you with me and not out gardening?¡±

    ¡°Because I¡¯m terrible with plants! Last time I looked after my grandparents¡¯ houseplants, three of them died. My grandmother has never let me forget it. It¡¯s ridiculous how fickle those things are. Give me a mathematical proof any day.¡±

    Sam shook his head with mock concern. ¡°All right then, well, you¡¯re at a disadvantage already. What¡¯s your plan then? Become the strongest aether user here and then run circles around the competition, eh?¡± He pretended to jab Win with his elbow.

    Win laughed dryly. ¡°Here I was feeling grateful to you for being supportive, and now come the puns.¡± He walked over to the training circle. ¡°Still, you¡¯re on to something. I need to stand out, right? So are you going to show me your technique from yesterday or not?¡±

    ¡°All right, fine, ruin my fun. Let¡¯s get started. Sit in your best meditation pose. Time to empty your thoughts of all the incredible things you think about the Azza family.¡± A fist struck him on his shoulder. ¡°Jeez, okay, I get it. Win is sensitive about matters of love. That¡¯s going to leave a bruise, jerk.¡±

 12. Newcomers, Part 2

    Dinner that evening was calm and full of easy conversation, with everybody relaxed from a fulfilling day. Roisin and Matteo reminded Sam a lot of Win and Nadia, both clearly intelligent with good heads on their shoulders. They talked about how amazed and excited they were by their journey and new surroundings, and overall being ready for adventure and competition. Clearly Tar sought out a certain type of personality in his recruits.

    The exception again was Elias, who only spoke when asked a question. Even then, his responses often led to dead pauses, and it took somebody, Nadia usually, to restart the conversation.

    Elias finished his meal first and summarily left to return to his apartment.

    As soon as the door closed, Nadia read Sam¡¯s mind and asked, ¡°What¡¯s his deal?¡±

    Matteo and Roisin both shrugged. ¡°We don¡¯t know. He¡¯s been like that since we met him,¡± Roisin said.

    ¡°And that was only yesterday. Roisin and I each had to travel to Belgium because it was the most central location. When we boarded the shuttle, he was there already, and he¡¯s barely said a word since,¡± Matteo added.

    Nadia turned to him and rested her fist on her chin. ¡°Huh. Sam, you like to pretend to be a psychologist. What¡¯s your evaluation?¡±

    Sam shot her an annoyed look. ¡°I¡¯m going to ignore that dig because I have no clue and I¡¯m happy to say so. Whatever he¡¯s upset about though, he¡¯ll have to figure out things real quick. Tar doesn¡¯t seem like the patient type.¡±

    Roisin¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°You met Editor Tar?¡±

    ¡°He was at our city¡¯s store and then administered our exams. And then we met Proctor Mim too, which was unexpected. Oh right, there are two of them,¡± Nadia said, then held up her two index fingers and twirled them around.

    ¡°Huh. All that appeared for me was a prerecorded hologram. Up until I got on the shuttle, I wondered whether I fell for an elaborate scam. But space is very real, so I was quickly disabused of that theory. Why do you think they met you three in person?¡± Roisin asked.

    ¡°Good question. Maybe because Sam and I¡ª¡± Nadia started. Underneath the table, Sam poked Nadia in the knee. She stopped speaking, her mouth hanging open. Sam hoped she¡¯d figure out why he didn¡¯t want her to give away too much. Roisin and Matteo waited for her to finish. ¡°Maybe . . . because Sam and I are brother and sister. That can¡¯t be typical.¡±

    She looked at Sam from the corner of her eyes, clearly irritated, and he gave her his best grateful smile. Sam worried that if people found out Tar gave them special treatment, it would cause them to treat the three of them differently. He didn¡¯t need more of that in his life.

    #

    The next week saw new recruits continue to arrive, and the station increasingly came alive. Sam settled into a routine of exercise, meditation (sometimes joined by Win and Nadia), and exploring. Whenever he needed a break, he enjoyed casually stumbling through Central Park. Once, he came across an idyllic field in between the lake, a forest, and a prominent hill. He sat down on the soft grass and scooped up the dirt and let it run through his fingers, marveling at the ways science and nature intersected.

    As expected, the recruits came from across the planet, each from a different country, with Sam, Win, and Nadia as the only exceptions. Sam avidly listened to the stories of the others, keen to discern any patterns as to why Tar selected them. Each had varied backgrounds, whether athletes, academics, artists, or entrepreneurs-in-the-making. Some came from rich families, others from poor ones. But they all shared a common language, a subset of certain phrases, and expressions they used when describing the destinies they ascribed to themselves.

    They jointly spoke to the power of their conviction, that stubborn self-belief that with time, work, and dedication, they¡¯d arrive at their intended destination. They attested to the depth of their passions and immovability of their goals. All of this culminated with their present circumstances. The opportunity presented by Tar may have been unexpected, but it fit. It was a natural realization of their potential, an of course, and the well-deserved fruit of their labors.

    Occasionally, Sam would be swept up in the conversation, and he¡¯d walk away with the same feeling. The invincibility of a future already foretold. Then he¡¯d see a glimpse of space, and the fever dream would break. They were all insignificant specks. His mother¡¯s voice would remind him, Don¡¯t forget yourself, Sam. Strength can never be given by others. It can only come from you.

    The last ship to arrive only had two people on board, as a third had gotten cold feet. This meant a total of thirty-three recruits. Sam recalled Tar stating he had planned for a group of thirty-two people. How did they end up one over that number despite losing someone?

    Could he and Nadia be the reason for the discrepancy? That only reinforced the necessity of keeping their biographical details to themselves. He talked it over with Nadia, and they agreed not to share any information about their mother¡¯s illness. Win had no problem going along with it as well.

    Finally, it was the big day of Tar¡¯s return. He¡¯d promised a rousing welcome speech. Nervous excitement pervaded the station. Following a call from Mega, the full group of recruits bundled into the largest training room, all diligently wearing their uniforms. In line with human nature, people clustered in smaller groups of friends. Sam, Nadia, and Win stood together, the other two having an animated discussion about their meditation techniques. Seeing Elias standing on his own, Sam decided to walk over to him to say hello, but the ceiling lights dimmed and a spotlight focused on the door.

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    With a veneer of mechanical enthusiasm, Mega¡¯s voice boomed. ¡°Please give a round of applause for Editor Tar!¡±

    Sam lightly clapped his hands. The door opened, and Tar emerged, wearing his resplendent multicolored suit that shimmered as he walked. He positioned himself at the front of the room, so that the recruits formed a half-circle around him. Behind him stood Mim with her neutral expression, dressed in the same neutral tones that she wore on Earth.

    Tar took in the room and beamed. ¡°Thank you all. It¡¯s an immense pleasure to see the full group assembled here today. Mim and I have poured our blood, sweat, and tears to make this happen. I¡¯m extraordinarily grateful that our efforts have borne such fruit.¡±

    He paused, and his expression grew more serious. ¡°By this time, you should all have a basic understanding of why you¡¯re here, but let¡¯s take a minute to revisit. The galaxy we live in, the Milky Way as you call it, is vast and home to several advanced civilizations. I include my own, the Dominion of Xarlogia, among them.¡± He motioned behind him, and a wide-spanning image of the galaxy flickered into view, with shades of colors occupying certain sections. A good fifth belonged to a purple-colored area, tendrils of which came close to Earth, marked with a pulsing blue circle.

    ¡°For eons, the galaxy¡¯s only currency was war.¡± Tar tapped the map, and the arms of the galaxy spun as borders rapidly shifted and explosions marked endless battles. ¡°As terrible as the violence your own species has inflicted on itself, it pales in comparison. You may be surprised to learn that those who are able to reach the pinnacle of aether use can become akin to deities, granting them a great capacity for causing death and destruction. Seeking personal glory, they mobilized immense armies and plagued the galaxy with conflict. Planets were swallowed whole, and trillions died. And for what? As soon as one faction came to reign supreme, it was inevitably torn down by the others. It was all so wasteful.¡± Tar sighed theatrically.

    The map became static again and pulsed between the five largest sections. ¡°Eventually, five of the most powerful civilizations, Xarlogia included¡±¡ªhe pointed at the purple area¡ª¡°arrived at a moment of uneasy peace. We had all just worked together to take down a cruel and capricious hegemon, the Archinimate of Ebulon, a name now steeped in infamy. For once, even our usually indefatigable generals had exhausted themselves. Even so, there was a mutual recognition that the seeds for future violence would not stay buried for long. Therefore, these five players organized a conference to hash out a solution, sending our greatest minds to attend.

    ¡°The conference concluded that peace is a dangerous illusion. It¡¯s the nature of organic beings to constantly seek out competition, and whenever there are winners and losers, there is conflict. The means to combat this underlying truth required a method of sating these foundational desires while avoiding the endless mayhem that characterized our relationships up to that point. One idea emerged as offering that possibility. Our five civilizations created the Starlit Arena as a means to arbitrate our differences. In Xarlogic, we call the annual competition that takes place the Ludi dex¡¯Aurra Incandii, or the Infinite Games of Luminous Stars.¡±

    The grandeur of the name conjured a gold and glittering stadium, set against a backdrop of bursting nebulae. Sam shivered as he pictured himself standing in the arena, helmeted and holding his trusty staff, as the whole galaxy watched.

    Relishing the power of his oratorial delivery, Tar took a deep breath before continuing. ¡°The Arena has proven a remarkably stable and successful means of adjudicating influence. For an up-and-coming man of business such as myself, participation in the Arena gives me the means to be present on the main stage. Profit and power may sound gaudy to you, but I make no apologies for being ambitious. Here is where you all enter the picture. I am now your patron and will enter you into this year¡¯s upcoming iteration of the Arena. You will fight for me.¡± Tar interlaced his hands and flexed them together, as if showing them all now bound together.

    The forcefulness of his statement struck the room silent. Having seen this side of Tar previously, Sam took it in stride. Tar is keeping us unbalanced. The theatrics reminded Sam of a ringmaster at a circus, pivoting from feat to feat. The audience teetered¡ªwas everything under control or were they in danger?

    ¡°Fortunately for you, I understand commerce.¡± Tar tapped his head and gave them a self-satisfied smile. ¡°This is not a one-sided arrangement. You will now gain the rare and precious gift of learning how to use aether from a skilled teacher, our dear Proctor,¡± he gestured to Mim, ¡°and frankly speaking, this chance would never otherwise come around during your lifetimes. It¡¯s a priceless opportunity.¡±

    He strutted forward, drawing closer to those in the front row. Most of the group took a step back, and the woman in front of Sam almost stepped on his toes. Tar injected his tone with an assumed intimacy and made eye contact with those closest to him. ¡°Are you wondering why learning how to use aether matters? During the recruitment process, I already offered you a taste of the power it provides, and we all know how seductive power can be. I doubt any of you could walk away from that at this point. However, there¡¯s more at stake than just your individual aspirations. Thanks to my assistance, humanity will soon possess the means to cross the edge of your solar system. Doing so marks you as a spacefaring civilization, and therefore eligible to join the Liberated Collective, the governing body that oversees the Starlit Arena and ensures we all keep the peace. If Earth receives membership, you¡¯ll earn your precious freedom.¡±

    The wording of the statement bothered Sam. Does that imply our freedom is otherwise not guaranteed? What was Tar leaving out?

    ¡°Seems simple, right? Not so. Maintaining independence will come at a cost. All on your own, you won¡¯t have access to the types of resources needed to conduct dealings with the rest of the galaxy, and you¡¯ll be left in the dark on the proper use of aether, an invaluable tool. Like many fledgling planet-states that have come before you, Earth will remain a primitive backwater for the foreseeable future. As you languish, you will be sorely tempted to turn for help from one of your neighbors. This will not go well for you in the long run. History is littered with examples of helpless planets made into tributaries of stronger powers.¡±

    With a flourish, he waved his hands over the crowd. ¡°Except now you¡¯ll have champions who will return from far-flung environs, savvy to the ways of the Collective and masters of aether. It will be you who can usher in this new era. You will safeguard Earth and ensure your species enjoys never-ending prosperity and growth.¡±

    He pointed to the map again, which zoomed in on the blue circle. ¡°Your planet now depends on you.¡±

 13. Cohort, Part 1

    Tar waited as his words sank in. The recruits reacted mutely, clearly in states of shock at the challenge he¡¯d just issued. The stakes had been raised immeasurably. Whatever illusion they might have had about this being a fun excursion was replaced by the crushing weight of unexpected responsibility.

    Alarm made Sam¡¯s breathing shallow, and his lungs burned. Tar¡¯s use of the word champion stuck out to him. Could his metaphorical shoulders cope with the weight of being a champion for humanity? The idea seemed a little preposterous.

    Tar renewed his speech. ¡°And so from here on, this is the covenant we make with each other. I help you. You help me. As we embark on this endeavor together, keep this ever present in your thoughts.¡±

    In other words, he¡¯d bound the thirty-three souls present to him in a way that went beyond contracts and promised rewards. If they pursued freeing themselves from this yoke, they¡¯d be risking Earth¡¯s future. This is unfair. Resentment shoved aside Sam¡¯s other emotions. Tar had deliberately engineered this situation. He could have leveled with Earth right from the start, helped its people understand and prepare for a still far-off entrance into galactic society. Instead, he¡¯d used humanity¡¯s ignorance to extract his own benefits. Man of business, indeed.

    Tar brushed his hands together, signaling a shift in tone. ¡°We¡¯ve covered the who, what, where, when, and why. Let¡¯s move on to the business of ¡®how¡¯ now, yes? First things first. You will be grouped into cohorts. Eight to be precise. Seven groups of four people, and one group of five. The reason for this is simple. Over these next few weeks, you¡¯ll be competing in our own version of the Starlit Arena. The Sanctum Arena, if you will.¡±

    He pointed to Mim and Wendell, who had wordlessly joined them, his expression shading a hint of resignation. ¡°My compatriots and I have diligently designed a series of challenges for you all to face as groups. The math is simple: those who win will be rewarded. We all know the value of incentives in motivating success. At the conclusion of our mock contest, the group at the top of the standings will be the A group. Upon participation in the actual Arena, the A group will be entered into the more elite rounds and have the chance to earn themselves incredible prizes.¡± And earn Tar incredible renown, Sam mentally inserted. ¡°If you think my prizes are good, wait until you see what you can win at the Arena.

    ¡°The cohorts have been decided randomly. With one allowance. Our friends from the USA will remain together in a group, specifically the group of five. This may seem arbitrary, but we have our reasons¡ªwhich we hope you will refrain from questioning.¡± Tar¡¯s eyes twinkled as he gestured toward where Sam, Nadia, and Win sat. Sam¡¯s ears burned as the room¡¯s collective gaze focused on them. ¡°Time will tell whether their familiarity serves as an advantage, or the opposite.

    ¡°Mim, please hand me the list again. Wonderful, here we are. Belonging to the first cohort are Matteo, Kenji, Chioma, and Mirai. Next is . . .¡± He continued to read until only five people remained. Sam, Nadia, Win, a woman from Colombia named Camila who Sam hadn¡¯t interacted with yet, and . . . Elias.

    Nadia cocked her eyebrow at him. He shrugged. It seemed useless to speculate just yet. Tar unceremoniously announced them as the final group.

    ¡°With that, let us adjourn. Your training schedules will be in your apartments. First order of business, meet with your new teammates. Take some time to get to know each other and discuss your strengths, as well as anticipate your weaknesses. Discuss your strategy to work together to improve. For those that have questions, you¡¯re welcome to ask when the time comes. Which isn¡¯t now.¡± Tar smiled waspishly and made for the room¡¯s exit.

    The noise and chatter that had been suppressed by his presence immediately erupted.

    #

    The room steadily emptied as the members of the various cohorts¡ªwhy had Tar chosen a word that conjured business school graduate students with designs on becoming titans of industry?¡ªfound each other and then departed to look for a place to meet privately. Figuring it would be easier for Camila and Elias to come to them, Sam, Win, and Nadia stayed where they were.

    Camila was the first to approach. She was of average height and athletic build, with wavy brown hair that hung over her shoulders, and smiled kindly, if with a certain reserve. She greeted them and shook their hands, her skin warm despite the general chill that pervaded the station.

    Elias walked over deliberately, his feet in lockstep and his eyes focused on a point above them. Sam offered him a small wave, to which he nodded and stood silently.

    Camila kicked off the conversation. ¡°So, we are the special group? That means everybody will be looking to see what we do.¡±

    Win let out an audible breath. ¡°You¡¯re right. The other cohorts will be comparing themselves against us. No pressure, right?¡±

    ¡°Great. I don¡¯t even like these two. Is it too late to ask to change?¡± Sam looked toward the door, where Mim had just exited.

    Camila looked concerned, while Elias just stared at him. Oh, well, I tried.

    ¡°Ignore him. He¡¯s lucky we let him stay with us,¡± Nadia said. ¡°Should we go back to our apartment? I wouldn¡¯t mind a break after standing for that speech.¡±

    Not long later, they found the apartment view today to be dominated by one of the moons. From Sam¡¯s research in the library, he knew that the hazy orange-tinted atmosphere signified it was Titan, Saturn¡¯s largest. Doubtlessly his favorite because the surface remained mysterious and hidden. What surprises might await visitors?

    A single sheet of paper lay on the counter. Nadia read it aloud, and they discerned it was their schedule for the week. Mornings would see the larger group together for training sessions, while afternoons were set aside for cohorts to break off and practice on their own. Mim would be visiting each cohort once during the week to observe their progress and provide more hands-on guidance. Saturday was marked in bold as the Sanctum Arena First Round, with instructions to meet in the hangar. Oh, and dress warmly.

    ¡°No rest for the wicked. Our idyllic days are over,¡± Sam remarked, wistful.

    The worry lines on the sides of Camila¡¯s mouth deepened. ¡°Why is Tar pushing us so hard? Everything he said about needing to help Earth, is it true?¡±

    Nadia lightly scoffed. ¡°He¡¯s bluffing. He just wants us to work harder. Which is fine, because that¡¯s what we¡¯re going to do anyways.¡±

    ¡°But Camila makes a good point. Telling us all of that, what is his purpose?¡± Win stuck a finger in the air, as if testing the direction of the wind.

    ¡°He¡¯s impatient. Watch his movements. He stalks around like he can barely restrain himself.¡± A voice from the figure nearest the window. Elias. Sam looked at him in surprise. He speaks.

    Sam¡¯s anger he¡¯d accrued during Tar¡¯s speech bloomed again. ¡°Exactly. Nadia and Win, this is what we talked about. We already couldn¡¯t trust him, and now he goes and lays the fate of the planet on us. Why is he only sharing this information now? What else is he hiding from us?¡±

    Nadia ground her feet into the floor, and her eyes flared. ¡°We don¡¯t need to trust him. Whatever is going on in the galaxy is not our concern right now. Let¡¯s focus on ourselves for the time being and we¡¯ll get to worrying about Earth later.¡±

    Sam let out a heavy breath. He recognized Nadia¡¯s point. Tar was a ball of yarn. Pull on a thread, and you¡¯d barely begin to unravel the question at hand.

    Seeing no response from Sam, Nadia said, ¡°Could we start by talking about our strengths and weaknesses? I actually think it will be a good trust-building exercise. Because whatever else we might make of Tar, he¡¯s not wrong that we need to learn to work well together.¡±

    Sam was curious to see how the others reacted to Nadia¡¯s assertiveness. For himself, he was content to take a back seat if Nadia chose to assume the mantle of leadership. He¡¯d become captain of his basketball team because the others asked him to; he possessed no innate need to be in charge. He admired his sister¡¯s drive, rather than finding it threatening. Why waste time being competitive with your own family? They needed to have each other¡¯s back; nobody else would. Of course, that didn¡¯t mean he wouldn¡¯t still viciously make fun of her, or vice versa, at the appropriate times (which was often).

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    No protest emerged. Win had puppy dog eyes¡ªSam¡¯s mouth twisted in rueful sympathy¡ªCamila had drawn inward, and Elias remained stoic and unreactive.

    That was enough for Nadia. She clasped her hands together. ¡°Great. We should start by going in a circle clockwise from me. Dig deep, eh? No point in staying strangers. We¡¯re about to be with each other day and night.¡± She looked around and then settled her gaze on Sam. ¡°Oh, what do you know, Sam is up first.¡±

    Sam twisted his mouth in a pretend grimace. ¡°Thank you, sister, it¡¯s an honor. Hmm. I¡¯d say I¡¯m good at helping others. I am . . .¡±¡ªwhat was the right word?¡ª¡°proud of that.¡± He felt his cheeks warm. ¡°But I¡¯m not always great at asking others for help.¡±

    Nadia nodded. ¡°I can verify that. His coach often said he didn¡¯t pass the ball enough.¡±

    Sam closed his eyes and groaned.

    ¡°Hey, you asked me for help, right? That turned out well.¡± Win gave him an affirming nod and was so earnest that Sam couldn¡¯t help but give him a grateful smile in return. ¡°As for me, I have a good memory. Great for tests and remembering useless trivia.¡± He paused and rocked his head from side to side. ¡°I don¡¯t do well though when presented with a problem I don¡¯t understand. I don¡¯t give up easily.¡±

    Camila looked to her side and saw she was next. ¡°Thanks . . . uh, Nadia. This is a hard question for me. I¡¯m a good athlete. I run track and field. Or at least, I used to.¡± Her lips tightened. ¡°And, well, I wish I had more faith in myself to make the right decisions.¡±

    Nadia reached out and laid her hand gently on Camila¡¯s. ¡°That is something we all struggle with.¡±

    Camila smiled weakly at her but didn¡¯t withdraw her hand.

    Elias cleared his throat. Since he had only just spoken for the first time in Sam¡¯s presence, this would be interesting. His voice was deep. ¡°My strength is my resiliency. My weakness is what I will not do. What I refuse.¡±

    Enigmatic. But he spoke with a faint wobble. Or did Sam imagine it?

    ¡°That¡¯s . . . great! Cultivating an air of mystery?¡± Nadia mimed jabbing Elias with her elbow.

    Elias kept staring ahead. Sam didn¡¯t blame him. Okay, Nadia, reel it in.

    Nadia took it in stride. ¡°That leaves me. As you might have guessed, I am an extrovert. But I don¡¯t like being told no, and there are times I overstep. So please, if I ever do that, let me know.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll be sure to do so,¡± Sam said, earning a roll of the eyes from Nadia. He looked at her with fondness though, and the eye roll was half-hearted.

    There was a knock on the door. Camila was the closest and walked over to open it. ¡°Oh, uh, come in?¡±

    Mim gingerly stepped inside, her face as unreadable as before. She stopped at the junction between the kitchen and the living room, seeming slightly far away. ¡°I won¡¯t be long. I¡¯m making sure everybody knows about their affinities. Most of you have gathered some understanding of the concept, and now is the time for more formal instruction so that you might properly plan as a team. The entrance exam served dual purposes. Confirming you have adequate aether sense and stress testing you so your affinity would come to the surface.¡± She pointed at Sam. ¡°Yours is one of the easiest to identify. Do you know what it is?¡±

    Sam looked down at his hands. ¡°Lightning?¡±

    Mim nodded. ¡°Close. And if it¡¯s easiest to think about it that way, you¡¯re welcome to do so. More accurately, it¡¯s electricity. In Xarlogic, you¡¯re known as a scintillam. This affinity is neither common nor rare. It¡¯s a good one for competing in the Arena, great at both offensive and defensive techniques.¡±

    Sam nodded appreciatively. Not bad.

    She continued. ¡°Each affinity has its roots in a form of energy. Aether is boundless, but our means of interacting with it is to shape it into energy.¡±

    Sam leaned forward, doing his best to keep up.

    ¡°I understand humans have some limited conception of energy and have developed certain classifications. Our affinities reflect our relationship with the world around us, and so most of yours should be recognizable to you because it¡¯s easier for your minds to understand. In truth, there are many types of energy you¡¯ve not yet discovered. Some of you may stumble upon them in the process of your growth, but if not, the Arena will open your eyes.¡±

    Sam tilted his head. ¡°How is electricity supposed to reflect my relationship with the world around me? I¡¯m on a computer all day?¡±

    Mim let out a dry laugh. ¡°Oftentimes, there is a genetic component that creates a predisposition. A few of the most famous families in the galaxy have carefully cultivated hereditary affinities. Or yes, it might be from participating in specific activities, though I¡¯d hazard that it goes beyond the use of tools. Of the scintillam I¡¯ve known in the past, a fair number have been inventors or explorers. It could also be tied to your personality, which gets into the realm of metaphor, and I will leave that to you to puzzle out.¡±

    Sam didn¡¯t know what to make of that. If his affinity was genetic, he¡¯d have no way of knowing. He was hardly an inventor or explorer. And his personality . . . was he stormy? Quick to temper? Not particularly, or so he hoped.

    She turned to Nadia. ¡°You¡¯re an interesting case. Some affinities branch into what are called expressions, meaning that the base type of the energy is the same, but how you tap into it differs. Many have a disposition to an expression, but that does not mean they¡¯re limited to that expression. Your affinity is well-known, if rare, but I¡¯ve never come across your particular expression before. Any initial thoughts?¡±

    Nadia shook her head. ¡°I honestly don¡¯t know. Being able to influence people doesn¡¯t really line up with what you¡¯re describing.¡±

    Mim nodded with excitement. This was the most animated they¡¯d seen her. She was enjoying herself. ¡°It¡¯s unique, so I wouldn¡¯t have expected you to guess it. It¡¯s magnetism, or magnes. While you¡¯re at the Legion stage¡ªyes, I see your confused looks, we will get to it later¡ªyou shouldn¡¯t be able to use it the way that you are. Your expression focuses on the power of attraction and provides you an extreme predisposition for the sixth step, the ability to manipulate the emotional state of other beings. That can be highly dangerous if you¡¯re not ready for it. One of the reasons I came here is to tell you that you¡¯ll be joining me for private lessons.¡±

    Nadia nodded slowly, like she¡¯d partly anticipated this, and otherwise didn¡¯t react. Mim had delivered both good news and bad, and the latter filled Sam with dread. He hoped Mim had the means to adroitly guide Nadia through the perils she¡¯d alluded to.

    Mim let the moment pass and turned to Win. ¡°You have one of the most common affinities, but a popular one, given its versatility. Have you figured it out already?¡±

    Win drummed his thighs. ¡°Yes. Being able to move at super-speed made it a bit obvious. Kinetic? But isn¡¯t that a broader category that would normally include types like electricity?¡±

    Mim gave him a pleased smile. ¡°Correct. Celeritas. And should you get powerful enough, mastering kinetic energy would make you formidable indeed. But while you¡¯re still at this stage of The Path, it may be more useful to think of it in a limited fashion, in your case the ability to affect motion. You¡¯ll get further focusing on one specific expression rather than experimenting with a lot of different ones.¡±

    Win nodded thoughtfully. Satisfied, Mim then arrived at Elias, who had stayed characteristically quiet. Sam noticed a flicker of anxiety cross his face.

    Mim sighed. ¡°To be honest, I had hoped we wouldn¡¯t have a recruit with this affinity. I don¡¯t say that flippantly or to make you feel bad. Having such a destructive affinity is not a reflection on you. But galactic society may not always see it that way. Are you comfortable sharing with the group?¡±

    The group waited with bated breath. Avoiding any eye contact, Elias stonily said, ¡°Radiation.¡±

    Okay, so? Sam looked to Win for reassurance, but Win¡¯s face had paled. Elias dropped his head, and an awkward silence stretched out.

    Eventually, Mim supplied the context. ¡°Radiato. Specifically ionized radiation, causing radioactive decay. One of the most purely destructive forms of aether. Masters of radiation are some of the most terrifying opponents in the Arena because they can knock you out before you even know what happened.¡±

    Taking her words in, Sam looked over at Elias in surprise, a pang of sympathy rising in him. Others might have received this information with excitement, learning of such potential fighting prowess. Elias clearly did not feel that way. This is not what he wanted. Sam couldn¡¯t help but wonder why.

    Mim continued. ¡°It¡¯s extremely hard to defend against. For the same reason, it¡¯s particularly difficult to train somebody how to use it properly, without causing harm to themselves or others. I frankly questioned Tar¡¯s willingness to recruit you, because while you could be a fiend in the Arena, getting you fighting ready would require resources that we don¡¯t have. Well, except that apparently Tar anticipated that and provided the one type of help that could be available to us. Which brings us to our last member of the group.¡±

    Mim made a final turn, looking now to Camila.

    Camila blinked. ¡°Oh? I don¡¯t understand, Proctor.¡±

    Mim held a palm up. ¡°Just share for now your affinity and I¡¯ll help connect the dots for everybody.¡±

    Camila looked up in thought. ¡°During the exam, I asked the voice . . . I mean, Mega . . . what my affinity is and it said I have a light affinity. During the combat test though, it seemed useless, until I accidentally used it on a tree sapling. It appears I can use it to energize growth.¡±

    Mim nodded appreciatively. ¡°Exactly, and going one step further, to reverse damage. If the tree had been ancient and decrepit, you could have restored it to glory. This is the healing expression of the light affinity, lux. We don¡¯t normally bring pure healers to fight in the Arena so your task will be to also develop offensive skills. For now, though, you and Elias make a necessary pairing. You will need to work together in order to fully benefit from this training.¡±

    Camila took in Mim¡¯s words and then slowly extended a hand to Elias. ¡°Partner?¡±

    Elias accepted her handshake without comment. Sam felt a twinge of relief. Both might have been lost and isolated on their own, but with any luck, this group would provide an adequate home.

    ¡°We put the five of you together because Camila and Elias will need extra support, so that offsets the advantage of having a fifth member. Of course, my expectation is that this team will reach the top of the standings because, with enough hard work, there is no reason you shouldn¡¯t. Please rest tonight. You¡¯re going to need it.¡±

    Mim exited, leaving silence in her wake.

 14. Cohort, Part 2

    Nadia eventually rallied them to try meditating together, but everybody fidgeted uncomfortably. Sam considered the implications of Mim¡¯s guidance. He had an idea.

    After he explained, Nadia¡¯s skepticism was obvious. ¡°Hold up. You want to mess with the electric currents in our bodies? That doesn¡¯t seem wise. You¡¯ve just learned how to make sparks. This is a bad idea.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not like that. I¡¯m going to bring in a mote of the energy into myself and then share it with you. My guess is that this will assist you to skip the first step and move to the second step. And we can then each try using our new abilities.¡± He snapped his fingers with excitement.

    Nadia still eyed him with suspicion.

    ¡°Come on, let¡¯s try it. It¡¯s not like I have the power to truly harm you. I think. Right?¡± Sam heard the question in his statement and tried to balance it out by making confident eye contact.

    Nadia studied him, then puffed her cheeks out and exhaled. ¡°Fine. I know when your mind is set on something. Plus, if this works, it could really be useful. Everybody else?¡±

    The others voiced no concerns, and they formed a circle, each holding hands. Sam smiled as Win subtly changed positions so that he could sit next to Nadia. Sam had Elias on his right and Nadia on his left.

    He closed his eyes and did his best to inhale and exhale evenly. It had been another interesting day. Lots for his mind to get stuck on if he let it. Instead, he went to the well of his basketball experience and created an imaginary game to occupy his mind space. He had the ball, his team at his back, and drove across the court. He maneuvered around a defender and lined up his shot. The intake of collective breath from the crowd gave him a feeling of exhilaration. Oomph. The ball left his grip, swatted away from behind. He lost control of the gathering aether, and it discharged into Nadia and Elias, who both shivered slightly.

    Nadia glared at him, but then her expression softened. ¡°Try again, Sam. You can do this.¡±

    This time, when a hand rose to block him, it was too late. The ball was perfectly situated against his fingertips, and he pushed it up and out of his hands. Swish.

    The mote of energy sprang into existence in front of his face, just past the tip of his nose. This was new. Given that his hands weren¡¯t free, it made sense that the mote needed somewhere else to form. Elias¡¯s hand gripped his more tightly, and he wondered if the others could sense the presence of active aether.

    He gently persuaded the mote to sink into his forehead, and with a light tingle, it spread throughout his body. Now came the interesting part. The last place it reached were his fingers, where he could feel two different barriers. The barriers weren¡¯t visible, as they existed within the aether dimension. On his left, he detected a potent magnetic pull. The barrier flickered in and out as if battered by an invisible force. On the right, a bubbling brew of phosphorescent sludge, swirling and heaving against the barrier with abandon.

    The mote recoiled from these differently attuned energies, causing Sam to tremble. He almost lost concentration but kept his mind¡¯s eye on the basketball frozen in the middle of the hoop.

    Calming himself, he determined that he couldn¡¯t convert these foreign energies. That would be impossibly difficult. He could charge them instead, if he mixed his energy with theirs.

    He started with Nadia. He let the static of his internal energy grow flush with the barrier that separated them. Sparks flew as pressure began to steadily build. The strain of the battle took its toll, and sweat built on his forehead and hands. He silently apologized to Nadia. The mote released a larger surge of electricity that scored his arms, leaving behind red lines. The barrier weakened, but the pain almost caused him to lose focus.

    Just as he was about to let go, a spark leaped the chasm between them. The barrier abruptly disappeared, replaced by a strong vacuum, pulling in spark after spark, puncturing his hands and arms with short-lasting but painful welts as they went by. He quickly dropped his hand and shook his arm out. This would require significant practice, both to improve his technique and get used to the discomfort.

    He wasn¡¯t done though. The desire to spend time recovering lost out to the need to sustain momentum, so Sam focused on Elias. He mentally recoiled. The surging sea across from him seethed with toxicity, and a rancid perfume wafted toward him. If he used the same technique as with Nadia and battled with the sludge, he¡¯d risk being poisoned. Could he adapt to using his technique at a distance? He pictured himself throwing a spark across the distance. The spark sizzled as it left his chest and barely flew an inch. He sighed.

    A couple of seconds went by as Sam pondered what to do. If he gave up, he¡¯d be reinforcing to Elias that his affinity was less than desirable. He couldn¡¯t be the one to do that. He steeled himself. Poison could be extracted. He¡¯d survive.

    But as he asked the mote to produce a charge again, Elias squeezed his hand. Hard. Sam almost jerked his hand away, but his attention was caught by the sludge slowing, stiffening, and then freezing in place. Oh, wow. Elias had exerted his will over the aether to such a degree that he¡¯d created an opening for Sam to act. Sam wasted no time, shooting a bolt through the immobilized barrier. The electricity sizzled when striking the sludge, dimming noticeably, but still traveling the length of the toxic sea as far as Sam¡¯s perception could extend. A second later, Elias¡¯s hold on the sludge released and the barrier once again churned with friction.

    Exhausted and worried about what he¡¯d done, Sam opened his eyes. Opposite from him, Win and Camila sat in repose. Camila gingerly rested the hand that Elias had been holding on her knee, as if burned. Win held a spoon. But he twisted his hand around, and in fact, the spoon stuck to his wrist, in defiance of gravity.

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    Nadia and Elias each remained still, their eyes still closed. Not sure what was happening, Sam reached out to shake Nadia¡¯s shoulder, but Win shook his head. ¡°No, don¡¯t touch them. They¡¯re processing right now, absorbing the insights your ploy showed them. If you interrupt them, they might lose control and use their abilities on us.¡±

    ¡°How do you know?¡± Sam asked.

    ¡°Camila and I received the side-effects of whatever it is you did. For about five seconds, I had the urge to do whatever Nadia told me to. It was tempting in a way.¡± He stopped and glanced over at Camila, who was listening. ¡°I mean, it felt unnatural, so I had to let go of her hand, and then it stopped. For the past minute or so, I¡¯ve been able to do this though.¡± He pointed to the still-attached spoon.

    Camila pulled her knees into her chest. ¡°For me, I felt this intense pull toward Elias. There was this churning pit of energy erupting inside him that I could feel my ability responding to. At first my aether and his clashed. Whenever any of his splashed on me, it hurt like hell. I kept pushing though, and my aether grew more solid and powerful. It forcibly melded our aether streams together, and there was a great suction, forming a whirlpool, pulling the two of us in. I immediately dropped my hand then.¡±

    ¡°What could any of that mean?¡± Sam asked, feeling puzzled and fearful. This had been a strange experiment.

    Camila only shook her head.

    It wasn¡¯t much longer before Nadia and Elias each emerged from their stasis.

    Nadia fell forward and grasped Sam¡¯s shoulder. After taking a deep breath, she flashed him an enthusiastic grin. ¡°That was unbelievable. I felt so in-tune with myself, like the aether had stitched into me, rather than being a strange external force that I had to wrestle to control. If that was a glimpse of what it means to excel at this whole Path thing, we¡¯re all in for a lot of fun.¡±

    Sam swallowed. ¡°Oh, good? I didn¡¯t know it would have such a powerful effect. What about you, Elias?¡±

    Elias moaned. ¡°I feel awful.¡±

    He swayed a bit, and Sam reached out to brace him with his arm. It was a good thing he did, as Elias immediately sagged into him. Sam grunted as he shouldered his weight.

    ¡°Are you okay? What happened?¡± Win asked.

    Camila moved over and laid a couple of fingers across his forehead, testing for a fever. After some time, she said, ¡°He¡¯s very warm, but it seems to be getting better. Let¡¯s give him a minute.¡±

    Eventually, Elias took a deep breath and pushed himself up. ¡°Thank you. And sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to cause concern.¡±

    Sam eyed him, looking for any outward signs of harm. ¡°What happened?¡±

    ¡°When I saw what you were planning to do, I could see it wouldn¡¯t work. To make it possible, I needed to control aether and give your technique space, and I had to meditate. The difficulty was very high, and I had to . . . go to a dark place in order to still my mind fully. Then you supercharged my power, and if I hadn¡¯t already put that control in place, I would have . . . exploded? Something like that.¡±

    Sam shared an anxious glance with Nadia. Even if she¡¯d profited, they needed to be careful using this technique in the future. ¡°I should be the one who is sorry. We bit off more than we could chew.¡±

    Camila looked at Elias with a hint of trepidation. ¡°The power you have, it¡¯s so potent. Having that inside you, it must feel so heavy.¡±

    Elias returned his expression to one of studied blankness as he considered. ¡°You could say that. The feeling is not new to me. Excuse me, I would like to take a break now.¡± He stood up, looking wobbly.

    ¡°Of course. You can rest on one of our beds.¡± Nadia pointed to the hallway.

    Elias hesitated, but not for long. ¡°That¡¯s okay. I will return to my place.¡±

    ¡°All right then, since we didn¡¯t get to do much team bonding, how about breakfast in the morning before the group training session?¡± Nadia asked in a hopeful tone.

    ¡°Yes, I can do that. I hope my appetite will recover by then," Elias said. He pulled the door open and heaved himself through.

    ¡°What do we think? Successful first team experience?¡± Win grinned.

    ¡°Blame Sam and his great ideas.¡± Nadia smirked.

    Sam winced. ¡°I was channeling your relentlessness. I¡¯ll try to refine it for next time.¡±

    Nadia looked out, in the direction of the moon. ¡°Next time. Camila, you ok?¡±

    Camila looked over her shoulder at the doorway Elias had gone through. ¡°I can see why the Editor put us together. We have the potential to make a great team. We could become strong. Win this.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll steadily build trust and operate as one,¡± Nadia said, putting a fist over her heart. Sam groaned, earning an eye roll.

    Camila winced almost imperceptibly. ¡°Yes, of course. The more we work together, the tougher we¡¯ll become. We can face down whatever awaits us.¡± She also looked out the window, but to space instead.

    Sam gave a half-hearted fist pump, too tired to say anything.

    ¡°As good a point as any to end on,¡± Nadia, unofficial leader, declared.

    #

    Elias had recovered by the next morning and, while still not overflowing with words, did seem more relaxed in their company. With Nadia as a freight train of conversation, it didn¡¯t matter much. They¡¯d received notice the evening before that the first round would be a capture the flag contest. Nadia had stayed up late devising a strategy and decided to use breakfast to brief them all. She¡¯d determined how to use her wristband to store notes, and a blue-colored projection filled with Nadia¡¯s cursive now occupied the middle of their table.

    Sam tried to be gentle. ¡°Aren¡¯t you getting ahead of yourself just a bit, sis? A lot could change over the course of the week.¡±

    Nadia jammed her hand on her hip and dipped her chin in exasperation. ¡°This is your fault because you got my brain going at a million miles a minute yesterday. Just go with it. My guess is that they decided on capture the flag for the first round because it will emphasize our ability to work together as a team, given that none of us will have progressed yet very far as individuals. Sound strategy is what will enable us to win.¡±

    Sam raised his hands in supplication, and Nadia pressed on. She pointed to a corner of the project marked Roles. ¡°Win, you¡¯ll be our scout. Figure out the lay of the land and coordinate with the advance team, Elias and me.¡±

    Win¡¯s head popped up from the bowl of oatmeal he was consuming. ¡°Got it.¡±

    ¡°Elias and I will follow Win and work on stealing the flag. Once we have it, Win will carry it back home, and Elias and I will get his back. We are both more offensive in nature and can take out any guards they leave. Camila and Sam, you¡¯ll hang back and defend our home flag.¡±

    Elias was slowly shaking his head. ¡°I¡¯m not comfortable using my power on another human being.¡±

    Nadia froze, then tapped her fingers. ¡°Oh, okay. Is that something you could speak to Tar and Mim about? Maybe there¡¯s a way to minimize any harm you¡¯d cause to others.¡±

    ¡°Maybe. Either way, I believe we can be successful. Once the opposing team finds out about my affinity, they will be scared of me and run away,¡± Elias said matter-of-factly.

    Win raised his spoon, sending oatmeal flying. ¡°Smart plan. We can start building our reputation. Instill fear and all that.¡±

    Nadia gave Win an amused smirk. ¡°You¡¯re right, Elias, I love that idea. So you¡¯re okay with us spreading the word about what your affinity is?¡±

    Elias shrugged. ¡°They will find out soon enough anyways.¡±

    Sam admired the man¡¯s indifference. It would bother him if just the sight of him sent people running.

 15. Training, Part 1

    Later that morning, Sam and the other thirty-two sat spread throughout the training room. Mim had led them through a series of meditation exercises, each offering different variations on how to center oneself and speed up the ability to access aether.

    She stood at the front of the room, dressed in an austere black jumpsuit. ¡°Your task now is to find a technique that works for you. Everybody is different, so while you may find inspiration from each other, sheer imitation will lead you nowhere. For example, while seemingly antithetical to the idea of meditation, some may find that unleashing their strongest emotions clarifies their thinking. Of course, this would be highly destabilizing for others.¡±

    She brought a fist to her palm. ¡°Do not forget that the first step is the basis of The Path. To successfully compete in the Arena, you¡¯ll need to move through this step instantaneously. That might sound like a tall order, but if you practice in earnest, you¡¯ll see that being centered becomes less and less of an active choice and more of a constant state of being.¡±

    She stopped speaking and pointed to a man near the back. ¡°You have a question.¡±

    Sam recognized him as Victor. At a recent dinner, Victor had attracted notice by boasting of his group¡¯s affinities lending themselves toward offensive firepower. Intrigued, Nadia had gone to observe them practice¡ªor, as she put it, collect intelligence. She came back wearing a frown and sank into another late night of furiously strategizing.

    Victor¡¯s eyes opened wide in shock. ¡°How did you know? I wanted to ask what The Path is exactly.¡±

    Mim¡¯s tight smile betrayed a modicum of amusement. ¡°Knowing what you intended to ask, I figured I¡¯d demonstrate the answer. What you just saw was a glimpse of the seventh step of The Path. Yes, I read your mind. Well, to be more precise, I saw your intent, and because it was very sharply focused, I made an educated guess.¡±

    A quiet murmur echoed in the room. Sam imagined everybody felt the same way as him: Mim was psychic, which was terrifying. We know so little of what they can do.

    The noise began to build, and Mim smiled thinly. ¡°Rest assured, I¡¯ve only dabbled in the seventh step. I haven¡¯t reached the Sovereign stage yet and most likely never will, no matter how long I live. I have an innate talent for the seventh step that allows me to access it even as an Ascendant. There are a few here with similar gifts.¡±

    Sam was reminded of Nadia¡¯s apparent use of the sixth step and glanced over at her. She was chewing her lip.

    ¡°But let¡¯s back up. The Path stands for The Solar Path of Enlightenment, Self-Discovery, and Righteousness. It¡¯s a bit silly. Xarlogic mystics from ancient history were no less ostentatious than some of your Earth priests and poets. But although Xarlogic civilization has evolved significantly since then, the name stuck.¡± She gave a wry grin.

    She tapped her wristband, and a series of charts and graphs floated in the air. ¡°It¡¯s important to understand that we all have varying levels of aether sense, which refers to our ability to detect and use aether.¡± One of the charts magnified, a large rectangle to one side reading Population and a small circle on the other titled Aether Sense. ¡°The vast majority of the galaxy¡¯s populace possess aether sense but only at a low, barely serviceable level.¡± The chart shifted to a spinning globe, with splotches of blue, white, and green filling it in. Earth. ¡°Humanity is an exception to this. Your base level of aether sense is above average, with a multitude of deviations in both directions. Victor, your next question?¡±

    Victor flushed red but gamely responded. ¡°Why is Earth different?¡±

    The image of Earth dissolved into a multitude of tiny dots, some lit up intensely, others dark and faded. ¡°Once a civilization moves into active aether use, the question of varying levels of aether sense becomes political.¡± The dots shifted and became a uniform dull gray, save for a few remaining bright ones at the end. Mim¡¯s smile hardened, and a glint of anger flashed in her eyes. ¡°Our galaxy¡¯s elites have famously propagated solutions in which to make aether sense as rare as possible. I hope your planet treats this topic with the care it deserves.¡±

    The mask slips. This issue had affected her personally, Sam surmised.

    She appeared to reset herself with a roll of her shoulders, turned, and drew a layered pyramid on the board behind her. The size of the base level far exceeded those above it. ¡°Within The Path, there are four stages, each with three steps. The first we call the Legion stage. Ninety-five percent of those who possess aether sense will not move beyond it. Still, as you¡¯ve begun to glimpse, the Legion stage offers great power to those who master its steps. The first step, Meditate, we¡¯ve just covered. The second step, Empower, allows you to suffuse aether into yourself and any objects you hold. The third step, I will wait to address until a lesson next week.¡±

    Mim moved her finger up the diagram. The next level was small but still respectably visible, unlike those above it. ¡°Next is the Ascendant stage. Of the remaining five percent of aether users, almost all of them belong to this stage, including myself. In Xarlogia, this is the group from which elite fighters, special dignitaries, and others valued highly by society are drawn. As you might guess, it¡¯s exceptionally difficult to reach this level, but there are a few practiced ways to do so. Most of them require massive amounts of resources being applied from the moment you¡¯re old enough to walk.¡±

    The diagram disappeared, replaced by massive piles of gold, pills, and weapons. ¡°Since that applies to none of you, it will not be the goal of this training program to induce any of you to reach Ascendant. Of course, you may just stumble on your own onto one of the less accessible methods. I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t say anything more about that subject, for knowledge earned is much more potent than knowledge given.¡±

    She said these last words with an equal sense of portent and vagueness, and Sam found himself intrigued. He gathered that just telling people how to do certain things was a shortcut that wouldn¡¯t always be rewarded. This implied a metaphysical component to using aether, which added a whole extra layer of mystery. Growth may not depend on only hard work and practice. A sliver of apprehension invaded Sam¡¯s gut. He reflected on the past few weeks; so far, he¡¯d leaped forward in his understanding of aether. Soon enough though, he¡¯d reach an obstacle, one that he neither had a natural aptitude for nor could grind down with dogged determination. Then what?

    Mim reached the top of the diagram. ¡°The final two stages are the Sovereign stage that I mentioned a minute ago and the Celestial stage. No need to concern yourselves with either at this time.¡±

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    She elided further description of the stages beyond Ascendant. Sam recalled Tar¡¯s earlier words about the most powerful users becoming the equivalent to deities, and a strange excitement overtook him. Regardless of how few individuals might reach the top, it was still possible. Even for somebody with as humble of origins as himself. Counterbalancing that though was the question of why. If Sam kept goals modest, what was the purpose of more power? Would it help solve problems or just create new ones? There was wisdom in that line of thought, but in the heat of the moment, Sam wasn¡¯t sure exactly what choices he might make.

    Mim turned her gaze to Victor again, a twinkle in her eyes. ¡°So full of questions. This next one you likely don¡¯t want aired in public.¡±

    Victor turned beet red, and there were a few nervous chuckles. His brows knitted stormily.

    Sam made a mental note to practice disciplining his thoughts within eyesight of Mim. He fervently hoped her ability did not extend through walls.

    #

    That afternoon, Sam¡¯s cohort met for their first official team practice.

    Win had a topic already in mind. ¡°Folks, we need a name. Some of the other cohorts have developed team titles, and we need one too. It¡¯s a branding exercise.¡±

    ¡°The Assholes with Too Many Members has a certain ring to it, no? I heard somebody call us that the other day,¡± Camila said. Elias outright guffawed, which proved contagious, and they all laughed for a solid minute.

    Nadia wiped her eyes. ¡°It¡¯s a little wordy. But you¡¯re right, Win.¡± Win¡¯s eyes noticeably sparkled. ¡°Let¡¯s think of a name. Nadia¡¯s Angels? No, that won¡¯t work with Sam in the group.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I think it works perfectly. We can be upfront that our team leader has an ego the size of her head. Ow.¡±

    Nadia had hit the back of his head. ¡°Shush, you. There¡¯s more where that came from.¡±

    ¡°Win, have you heard what the other groups are calling themselves?¡± Camila asked.

    Win drummed his chin. ¡°Hmm, I know Matteo¡¯s cohort is calling themselves the Startroopers, which, I don¡¯t know, is kind of bland? The group with Isidora and Victor is the Amazing Aces. Not sure about the others yet.¡±

    ¡°Okay, okay. Let¡¯s think. The Space Conquerors. Is that too aggressive?¡± Nadia said.

    Camila shook her head with gusto. ¡°No, too evocative of colonialism. I know, how about the Dream Team?¡±

    The group looked around at each other silently.

    ¡°Okay, no, we¡¯re not feeling it,¡± Camila said good-naturedly.

    ¡°Elias, any ideas?¡± Sam asked.

    Elias took a second to think and then said with quiet vigor, ¡°The Gladiators.¡±

    Yes, that¡¯s it. The name instantly felt right. Sam grasped Elias¡¯s shoulder in excitement. Elias flinched a bit and so Sam pulled his hand back, but his enthusiasm wasn¡¯t dimmed. ¡°That¡¯s perfect! I fought in a coliseum in my entrance exam. I mostly flailed around like an idiot, but it was epic.¡±

    ¡°Yes! It¡¯s fearsome without making any assumptions,¡± Win chimed in.

    ¡°All right, we all agree then? We are the Gladiators.¡± Nadia put her hand in the middle of their circle, and after Win and Camila and even Elias followed suit, Sam did the same, trying not to roll his eyes. ¡°So it is pronounced.¡± She lifted her arm and gave a fist pump.

    She stood and began to pace the room. ¡°Okay, so I was thinking for our first practice. We should do a mock capture the flag. Two versus two, with one person sitting out to work on their steps. Everybody remember their assigned roles?¡±

    #

    The next morning, Mim led them in a lesson around the second step. As Sam had discovered during the entrance exam, achieving the second step required manifesting a representation of your affinity and then absorbing it into your body¡¯s energy field. For Sam, this had come easily because electricity was simple to visualize and conceptually similar to the way he already thought about energy. Camila as well was able to produce light without too much difficulty.

    For the others, working with types of energy that were invisible or more abstract, Mim advised using a physical object as a totem, serving as a focal point for the mind. Nadia went for the obvious and chose a magnet, while Win requested a metal ball because it reminded him of Newton¡¯s cradle. Elias chose a small tube of clear liquid, which he didn¡¯t explain.

    ¡°Maybe because it¡¯s reminiscent of a nuclear reactor? There are lots of tubes in those, and water too,¡± Win whispered to Sam.

    Sam shook his head. ¡°Only you would know to think of that, Win.¡±

    Once everybody started to get a handle on reaching the second step, the room came alive with people trying out their new abilities. Seeing so much demonstration of what Sam had once thought impossible astonished him. Would this be a historic day for humanity, akin to the Wright brothers first taking off in their wooden plane or Cai Lun inventing paper? If history remembered this group, he hoped it would be for the right reasons.

    Seeing his peers at work also served as a clear reminder that they had some fearsome competition ahead of them. This was confirmed when Tar joined them after the lesson to announce the matchups for the first round.

    Nadia groaned. ¡°Just our luck. The Aces. Did you see Victor create a fireball yesterday? Guys, a fireball, like he¡¯s some sort of wizard. I mean, come on.¡±

    ¡°Manal¡¯s affinity is formidable as well. Being able to control gravity? I¡¯m sure she¡¯s going to learn how to fly at some point,¡± Win added.

    ¡°This is good. It will be a challenge.¡± Elias pressed his lips together in a hard-set smile. Sam shook his head ruefully, not wanting to risk Elias¡¯s contributions to the conversation by refuting him.

    ¡°I¡¯m worried. What if we lose? Does that mean we have no chance of being the top group? We need those rewards so can we continue making further progress,¡± Camila said, running a hand through her hair. In the run up to the first round, the tension underneath Camila¡¯s otherwise easygoing nature had grown. She was clearly focused on winning, the reason for which remained murky.

    ¡°Look at it this way. If we win, we¡¯ll be sending a statement. If we lose, this is just the first round. Plenty of time to recover,¡± Sam volunteered.

    Apparently not fully placated, Camila sighed but didn¡¯t say anything further.

    Nadia clasped her hands together. ¡°Let¡¯s do what we can during practice today. I thought yesterday¡¯s mock battles went well. Now we can try adding the second step.¡±

    Sam eagerly took the opportunity to train with a staff. Nadia tried talking him into switching his weapon of choice for something less unwieldy, but Sam enjoyed how much reach he had between his long arms and the length of his staff. It fit the image he had of himself as more of a protector than an attacker, able to keep enemies at bay. He preferred incapacitating rather than causing mortal injury.

    He found it difficult to fully duplicate the energizing technique he¡¯d employed during the exam. His control of aether felt sluggish, less refined. Consequently, the mote would refuse to leave his hands or fizzle out as soon as it connected with the staff. ¡°Win, those online videos you sent me may have shown me some basic control movements, but they¡¯re no help in using the second step. Anybody have any suggestions?¡±

    Nadia pursed her lips. ¡°You could just do what I said and zap people through touching them.¡±

    Sam held out his index finger and waved it at her. ¡°On who, you? Payback for letting you use your affinity on me the other day? I still feel the urge to say duck whenever I look in the mirror. Not cool, Nadia, not cool.¡±

    ¡°I already apologized. Twice!¡± Nadia huffed.

    Elias stepped over from his corner of the training room. ¡°What is different this time versus during the exam?¡±

    Sam stretched his arms out. ¡°I¡¯m not about to die?¡±

    Elias nodded. ¡°There you go.¡±

    Huh, right. Sam knew well enough the benefits of pressure. He picked up the staff again. How would he duplicate that environment again?

    A heavy weight collided with him, and he flew forward, landing on his knees. ¡°What the hell?¡±

    Win stood over him, grinning. ¡°Figured I could help.¡± He extended his hand.

    Sam growled as he took the hand to hoist himself up. ¡°Could have warned me.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not how it works though, right?¡± He jumped back in an unnatural blur as Sam swung his staff in his direction. ¡°That¡¯s the spirit.¡±

    The two went back and forth before running out of energy. By the end, Sam could swing the staff quicker and with more force, as well as charge the weapon so he could lightly shock his opponents (which Win quickly learned to avoid). A glimmer of power underscored his movements. It felt good, right.

 16. Training, Part 2

    After their team exercise ended, they went to eat a quick dinner. Not paying attention, Sam suggested a table next to the Aces.

    Mid-meal, Victor leaned over and leered at them. ¡°Ready for defeat this weekend?¡±

    Sam had seen the full spectrum of behavior brought out by competition. Some people directed the stress inward, others outward. The latter could be annoying to encounter, but best just to shrug it off.

    Before he could reply and attempt to get Victor off their backs, Nadia had a quip of her own ready. ¡°To whom, you? Hold on.¡± She held her index finger to the side of her head. ¡°Let¡¯s see. I¡¯m reading your mind. You know you¡¯re in over your head and afraid you¡¯re going to set yourself on fire.¡±

    Victor¡¯s mouth twisted in fury, and he launched up from the table. He growled, ¡°Low blow, Azza. My dad died in a car crash. Got any other insults? Keep ¡®em coming.¡±

    Nadia looked stricken, her face pale. From her side, Win learned forward. ¡°Look, she didn¡¯t know. We were minding our business. You¡¯re the one who started the conversation.¡±

    Victor scowled and held out his palm. A flicker of a flame appeared above it. ¡°And this weekend I¡¯m going to end it. Unless you want to go to the training room and see where things take us.¡±

    ¡°Okay, we¡¯re all adults here¡ª¡± Sam interjected but was interrupted by Nadia striking out with her hand and grabbing Victor¡¯s forearm. Sam felt his stomach drop. They all knew the rules; fighting in the residential area would result in a shuttle trip back to Earth.

    However, all that happened was Victor went rigid and his face blank. Pulling away from Nadia¡¯s grasp, he sat down in his chair and resumed eating in silence. His teammates looked at him with stunned surprise but voiced no complaint.

    Nadia sagged in her seat.

    ¡°Quick thinking,¡± Camila whispered, giving her a supportive smile.

    ¡°That was risky. If word gets out that you¡¯re using your affinity on the other recruits, we¡¯ll earn a bad reputation.¡± Sam said, brow furrowed.

    ¡°Does that matter? Whoever wins will be disliked regardless,¡± Elias pointed out.

    ¡°He¡¯s right, Sam. Yes, I need to be careful, but only so we don¡¯t give away too much about our capability. The goal is to win. If we want to make friends, we have each other.¡± Nadia looked around the room, her gaze tinged with indifference, in contrast with her typically cheerful disposition.

    Sam chose not to make an argument out of it. If Nadia held an opinion strongly enough, he¡¯d learned long ago that little he said would change her mind.

    After they finished eating, Nadia suggested relaxing and playing card games, but Win had a tutoring session scheduled, and Camila said she wanted to video call her family. Sam also begged off, feeling restless. He wandered over to Central Park. It was dark inside, and he guessed that Wendell had turned off the artificial lights to allow the plant life to engage in its normal cycle. However, enough diffuse light reflected off Saturn that he was able to walk through the park without difficulty. The massive planet¡¯s glow tinted the landscape a russet brown, and warm pleasant air enveloped him. A temperate would-be summer evening.

    A few fireflies lit up as he walked by, twinkling in the dusk. That was a nice touch by Wendell. It recalled childhood memories of neighborhood walks he¡¯d take with his mother and sister. His mother would forbid them from chasing the fireflies. Let them act out their brief lives in peace.

    After arriving at his usual spot, he settled down on the small beach next to the lake. Suffering no exposure to tidal forces, the surface of the water appeared placid and inviting, and he was tempted to dip his feet in.

    Too lazy to take his shoes off, he instead picked up an errant stick¡ªare the droids slacking off?¡ªand gently poked at the water, causing a few ripples to break the stillness. A water bug gently lifted off the water and haphazardly flew away.

    The rustle of footsteps startled him. He craned his neck to look over his shoulder. Elias. He had stopped, staring at Sam with a funny look on his face.

    ¡°Oh, hey, Elias. Did you decide to get some alone time too?¡±

    ¡°Something like that. I¡¯m sorry to disturb you. I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d find anybody else here right now. I can go.¡± Elias hooked a thumb over his shoulder.

    A hint of a question in the last sentence led Sam to take a chance. ¡°You don¡¯t have to if you don¡¯t want. I wouldn¡¯t mind the company.¡±

    A passing indecipherable look crossed Elias¡¯s face. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Are you sure?¡±

    ¡°Please.¡± Sam patted the sand next to him. He didn¡¯t expect Elias to take the offer, but Elias moved to sit next to him. Well, not right next to him, but not as far as he could have. Sam waited a beat before initiating conversation. He gestured around them expansively. ¡°Remind you of home?¡±

    Elias shook his head. ¡°No. I grew up in the city. We had our share of parks, but you never forgot how many people were within close distance of you. This place is different. It has a certain magic to it. I like it.¡± A faint, unexpected tremor came through in his deep-timbered voice.

    ¡°I agree. Outer space is the last place you¡¯d expect to find beauty like this, yet here we are.¡±

    Elias nodded soberly. He picked a blade of grass and twirled it in his hand. ¡°Are you enjoying your time here?¡±

    Sam scratched his head. ¡°I don¡¯t know? The days are too full. I barely have time to think.¡± This had troubled him. What if he missed something important?

    Elias grunted. ¡°My problem is, I spend too much time thinking. Your sister, Win, it seems they are enjoying their change in circumstances. They don¡¯t ask questions, they just accept.¡±

    ¡°Yeah . . . I get the same sense. Don¡¯t look a gift horse in the mouth, eh?¡± Sam smiled wryly.

    Elias gave a soft chuckle. ¡°I don¡¯t know that expression.¡±

    ¡°Oh, sorry . . . Well, I meant, we¡¯re lucky to be here, right? And what use is there in questioning that?¡± Sam used his fist to prop up his head.

    Elias looked at him evenly. ¡°But you are.¡±

    Sam thumbed a smooth rock and pretended to throw it. ¡°I guess so? But when is the shoe going to drop?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what that means, either.¡± Elias lifted an eyebrow.

    Sam grabbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m full of idioms today.¡±

    ¡°No sweat. There, I know some slang too.¡± Elias¡¯s slightly crooked smile reached his eyes.

    ¡°That¡¯s a relief because I know,¡± Sam counted his fingers, ¡°maybe five words in French.¡±

    ¡°Oui, please spare me,¡± Elias said with a straight face.

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    Sam chuckled. This guy¡¯s not all misery.

    A few minutes passed in companionable silence, but when Sam looked over, Elias¡¯s face had darkened, reminding Sam of the expression he wore from that picture Wendell shared with him.

    Sam asked softly, ¡°Everything all right?¡±

    Elias swallowed and looked out over the lake. ¡°I don¡¯t know. This place. Do you sense the ghosts that haunt us? The past . . . it¡¯s not easy to get away from.¡±

    Sam studied him closely, trying to decipher his words. ¡°We all have our baggage. But we¡¯ve all got each other now too, yeah?¡±

    Elias lifted his head, the reflection of Saturn lighting up his face. ¡°You¡¯re right. We have each other.¡±

    #

    Bright and early Saturday morning, the recruits lined up in the hangar. As Sam walked through the crowd to his cohort, he heard plenty of nervous chatter. He shared the sentiment. The first moment of real import had arrived. His heart palpitated with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. They¡¯d get to show their stuff, but failure might signify how far they still had to go.

    Tar stood on the ramp to the shuttle, the extra height giving him a stage to speak from. Today he¡¯d exchanged his multicolored suit for a Stetson hat, a dark brown leather jacket, and matching tan slacks. A bound-up bullwhip was tied to his side. Sam shared a look of exasperation with Nadia. What an attention-seeker. He planned to never ask Tar about his pop-culture references for fear that would play into his hands.

    Tar deployed his usual grandiose speaking voice. ¡°Welcome, all. As you may have guessed, the first round of the Sanctum Arena will be taking place off the station. In a few moments, you¡¯ll all board the shuttle and depart for our destination. You will need to wear additional safety equipment, which you¡¯ll find inside.¡±

    He slipped into a more severe, instructive tone. ¡°Listen closely. The rules of this round are simple. The first team to bring the flag of their opposing team back to their own home base wins. Standings overall will be based on performance, assessed by Proctor Mim and myself, with metrics including time spent on flag capture, level of teamwork, and demonstration of abilities.

    ¡°In case you¡¯re wondering, we¡¯ll go a step further than the Arena and state that intentionally causing permanent injury to one another is grounds to be shipped back to Earth.¡± He tilted his head up a fraction and twisted his mouth into a half-smile, half-sneer. ¡°I don¡¯t have time to be recruiting replacement contestants, so please don¡¯t test me.¡±

    Whether or not that was meant to be a moment of levity was unclear, but the next thing he stated was with full seriousness. ¡°That being said, you¡¯ll find that the course is not without danger. Tread carefully.¡±

    Sam¡¯s pulse began to race. Their first real moment of danger. Would it be creatures hidden in the dark? Sam hated horror movies with a passion and would not welcome things jumping out at him.

    ¡°Mega will be monitoring closely and alert Mim and me should anybody befall harm. I wish you all the best of luck. Let me urge you all to properly seize the opportunity in front of you. Exemplify proper bravery, intelligence, and camaraderie, and your lives will be forever changed.¡±

    As was common when Tar spoke, the whiplash in tones left Sam reeling.

    Tar took a theatrical bow and departed the hangar. Mega asked them to board the ship in an orderly fashion, which the group promptly ignored and en masse crammed themselves inside. Sam¡¯s cohort hung back, letting the crush of bodies thin out before making their move.

    Stepping into the shuttle¡¯s lounge, Sam was struck by the contrast with the last time they boarded. The once-roomy interior now felt cramped, with the seats all taken and the windows blocked off, obscuring any view. They decamped for the last remaining quiet corner, observing covered piles of equipment along the way.

    Sam was about to ask the others if they had any guesses about where they were going but Mega beat him to the punch.

    ¡°The Editor has requested I debrief you all with more information on the course. Our destination today is the upper atmosphere of Saturn.¡± She was interrupted by an immediate buzz and stopped announcing.

    Win rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet.

    ¡°What?¡± Sam whispered at him.

    Win looked at him, wild-eyed. ¡°This is insane, Sam. That¡¯s the kind of place humans can¡¯t survive.¡±

    The volume of Mim¡¯s voice had increased by half. ¡°Ahem, excuse me. The course will feature a series of obstacles and geographic features, with the home bases at separate ends. As is typical of gas giants, you¡¯ll find the atmosphere extremely windy. Tar and Wendell set up an artificial barrier to shield you from the worst of the wind, but some may still make it through, so you¡¯ll need to be careful about maintaining your balance.¡±

    That just makes it sound worse.

    ¡°The equipment you will be donning comes with a variety of functions. You will be wearing a layer of the material cetoprene, including both a bodysuit and a helmet. It¡¯s a bit like your neoprene in function but utilizing Xarlogic technology. Cetoprene regulates temperature and blocks solar radiation and other space-borne energies that can cause you great harm. However, the Editor has instructed me to share that cetoprene does not interfere with aether, meaning you will still be vulnerable to the energy use of your fellow contestants.¡±

    A uniform would be all that separated them from solar radiation. Lovely. Sam considered simply staying on the shuttle. Judging from the panic that had spread throughout the room, others were thinking the same.

    ¡°In addition, your access wristbands will now come with a mapping feature, which will update as you make your way through the course. Be forewarned though, the course may shift during play sessions.¡±

    It just gets more and more awful.

    ¡°Finally, you¡¯ll be equipped with a jetpack. The Editor asked me to pass along these words of wisdom. ¡®Ideally you would have had a chance to practice, but that would have ruined the fun. They are quite sensitive to handle, so please be judicious in their use.¡¯ You may employ the jetpack to move along the course, but their primary purpose is to assist you should you lose your footing and fall from one of the platforms. As you know, Saturn has no solid surface, so this would otherwise lead to your death.¡± She took a pause, during which you could hear a pin drop. ¡°Also, they have limited fuel. Use them at your discretion or you might risk not having enough fuel when you need it most. Thank you. That is all for now.¡±

    The room erupted into activity and shocked chatter. Sam leaned against the bulkhead, trying to process it all. Obstacle course that shifts, weird scuba diving suits, jetpacks? How did those things fit together?

    ¡°What did we get ourselves into?¡± Nadia muttered to his side.

    The rest of the trip only took about fifteen minutes, with the shades drawn the whole time. The piles were quickly uncovered, and the lounge saw plenty of conversation as people rushed to put on the cetoprene and jetpacks. Sam found both to be lightweight. The jetpack fit snug on his back, feeling like a lifejacket for space. It could be activated with the wristband as well.

    His group reconvened in their corner.

    ¡°Okay, so this is going to be the capture the flag game from hell,¡± Win grumbled and shot a glare in the direction of the station.

    ¡°Hard agree. Everybody, whatever you do, don¡¯t fall. I don¡¯t trust this thing. I don¡¯t care how advanced Xarlogic tech is.¡± Nadia rapped the side of her jetpack, which thankfully sounded very solid.

    Camila¡¯s mouth had tightened, and determination shone in her eyes. ¡°Does our plan stay the same? Sam and I are the two athletes, and it sounds like the course is going to require some quick decision-making. Also, Win, you¡¯ll have less of an advantage on such unstable ground.¡±

    Huh. Sam¡¯s appreciation of Camila¡¯s tactical abilities just went up a notch. She¡¯d stayed quiet previously when Nadia talked strategy. If it was an inclination not to rock the boat, she¡¯d apparently set that aside. He looked at his sister, waiting to see how she¡¯d respond.

    Any pride Nadia might have felt she evidently squashed. ¡°Yeahhh. Very good points. Should we flip? You and Sam act as the advance team, Elias and I will hold back to defend the base, and, Win, you¡¯re the midfielder. Fend off the other team or keep the flag moving, whatever is needed.

    ¡°Great. Seeing no disagreement, Gladiators on three,¡± Nadia said.

    The team cheer had been Sam¡¯s idea. It did its job well, and his nerves steadied. Somewhat. He repeated a mantra he¡¯d developed for himself.

    You¡¯ve got this.

    #

    Eight teams equaled four games. The first game featured the Startroopers versus the Warriors. The Gladiators learned their fate: they would be facing the Aces in the fourth and final game. Sam would have preferred anything but. Being forced to wait until the end would require an exercise in self-soothing.

    The ship had stopped moving and settled on what felt like a platform, but the windows remained opaque, so it was impossible to see what awaited them.

    Mega¡¯s clarion voice cut through the anxious murmuring. ¡°Contestants in the first game, please exit the ship. All others, we ask that you enter a meditative state while you wait for your turn. From this point on, no further conversation is allowed in order to maintain fairness. The penalty is disqualification.¡±

    Sam wasted no time complying, taking it for granted his teammates would as well. Centering himself was becoming easier and easier. Switching to the second step, he worked on his new project of increasing the size of the energy he manifested into larger than just a mote. He was cheekily describing it as a speck now. A particle couldn¡¯t be far away.

    About two hours later, though Sam couldn¡¯t say for sure, Mega asked for the contestants of the second game. No one from the first game returned back to the shuttle for now, but that was to be expected.

    A much shorter time passed for the second game. Curious.

    The third game lasted closer to the length of the first. The Aces sat in the opposite corner of the room. Sam avoided looking at them, but one time Victor caught his eye and crossed his throat with his thumb. Sam waved back at him nonchalantly, and Victor turned around in a huff.

    Finally, it was time.

    Ma. Tar. The world. If you¡¯re watching, I¡¯m ready to do my best. Just let it not be my last. Sam lifted his feet one after the other and walked through the shuttle¡¯s exit. The other side blazed with color, wind, and light.

 17. Capture, Part 1

    The cetoprene was fully transparent, like a less rigid glass fishbowl, so Sam could easily see through his helmet and take in the view as he stepped off the ship and onto the dock, right into the middle of Saturn¡¯s sky.

    This was a sight he¡¯d remember for the rest of his life.

    A wholly inconceivable landscape surrounded him. Tall dark colossal clouds hung over them like a skyscraper might tower over mice. Glittering streams of light pierced in between, as dramatic as any invocation of the celestial Sam had ever thought to imagine.

    In aggregate, the palette added up to the yellow-brown smudge one could observe from space. But any close examination revealed a rich tapestry of greys, whites, blues, reds, pinks, oranges, and blacks, cascading like strokes of paint against the empyrean, made impressionistic by the filter of odd additional gases that obfuscated the air around them.

    Above him, the clouds thinned out, and the sky grew hazy and dull. The Sun twinkled, its light weak and washed out. The rings appeared as ice-colored arches that bisected his vision, literal stairways to heaven.

    Below, the action started.

    To Sam¡¯s astonishment, tornadoes the size of oceans existed in the universe. Did scientists know of their existence? They must have reasoned that knowledge of these behemoths should remain hidden, for the sake of humanity¡¯s collective sanity. How could life ever cohabitate with such titanic rending forces?

    The walls of the storms pulsed brutally, whipping the air into a violent frenzy. Sam looked for some type of end, but no matter how far into the horizon he looked, all he saw was a writhing mass of self-mutilating shadows and wind. He shifted his gaze and peered into the depths below.

    His vision narrowed into a tunnel, and he became transfixed. He witnessed raw, ragged spurts of aether splinter from the planet¡¯s core and tear upward, driving right at him. They tore at the edges of his mind, leaving frayed ends, his consciousness like a spool of wool rapidly unspinning. His thoughts began to unravel and decay.

    His mentality mutated. His anger swelled and became just. The urge to destroy called him. Show them. Punish them.

    A warmth invaded his body, and the wild emotions retreated, scalded. He pulled himself back in. A thin but firm hand lay across his chest, keeping him from plunging over the edge. He looked up. Elias¡¯s dark eyes bored into him.

    ¡°You look unwell.¡± He pulled his hand away gently.

    Sam rubbed his face. That was a close one. He gave Elias a weak smile. ¡°Thanks. Not sure what happened there.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d stay away from the edge,¡± Elias said softly. Sam nodded, and the two moved to join the larger group.

    Sam kept his attention focused on the scene immediately around him. A suspended pathway led to a giant translucent crystalline box. Within the box was a series of flat surfaces interspersed between a variety of slabs, wedges, and blocks of all different sizes, colors, and appearances. It looked like a kid¡¯s toy set made massive.

    Traversing the course would require a lot of skill and patience. Sam ran through the team¡¯s plan again. They¡¯d predicted obstacles, but nothing like this. Still, they would adapt. The Gladiator motto: Stay smart, keep your eyes open, and trust your instincts.

    Mim stood in front of the box, regal and unassailable. ¡°Aces, you¡¯ll be to my left, and your base and flag will be colored blue. Gladiators, to my right, with a green base and flag.¡± One half of the box pulsed as if a huge green flashlight shone inside. The other did so in blue. ¡°Here, let¡¯s make it clear on your uniforms as well.¡± She touched her wrist and bright bands of green sprang around Sam¡¯s wrists, chest, and legs. ¡°As soon as one team brings back the enemy flag to their base, the match instantly ends. Mega will be monitoring as the Editor said, but you can also use your wristbands to call for assistance. Just know that if you do so, you forfeit automatically.¡±

    She waved her hand, and a wide door appeared. ¡°Line up please.¡± Once they did so, she casually opened the door and gave them a wink. ¡°Okay, you may enter and begin. Good luck to you all.¡±

    Here goes nothing. As soon as they entered, Sam made eye contact with Camila, and the two of them darted to the left, taking care to maneuver around the four members of the Aces, who also split up. He didn¡¯t bother to see what his teammates did, trusting them to also adhere to the plan.

    The pair jogged down a path that split the middle of a valley of neon-colored cubes. Above them, several overhangs created vantage points from which they could be spied upon. Making themselves vulnerable right off the bat didn¡¯t sit well with Sam, but their strategy emphasized speed and efficiency. Not moving quickly enough would give the Aces time to map out the course and figure out which choke points to guard, raising the possibility of a drawn-out confrontation. Even if they still won, taking more time could lower their overall score.

    As agreed upon beforehand, Camila took the lead. With her focused on charting their path, his role would be to watch for enemies and guard their flank.

    They treaded lightly through the valley. Just past the halfway point, Camila held up a hand. They had worked out a few signals to use in lieu of having to talk and give away their position.

    Sam looked at her questioningly. She tapped near her eyes and then pointed to a gargantuan orange-colored cube in front of them that took up almost all of the view. It sat about fifteen feet above the valley and about two-thirds over the ledge, casting a large shadow over the two of them and their path.

    Thirty seconds went by, and nothing happened. Sam gestured to Camila to suggest they should move on but she made an X with her arms, the signal to stay absolutely still.

    Another thirty seconds went by. The valley remained silent.

    Time is ticking. Sam held off his impatience. Follow the plan. They¡¯d practiced together extensively, and Camila had shown an uncanny ability to stay one step ahead of danger.

    Sam¡¯s mind began to wander. Now that he had a feel for the size of the course, he really wanted to know who had managed to win the second game so quickly¡ª

    Wait. Had the cube wiggled? Sam focused his vision on the corner nearest them. There. A vibration.

    A sharp yank on his suit. Camila made the sign for ¡°run like hell,¡± or at least that was how Sam interpreted it.

    The two of them took off at a sprint just as a large rumble started. He looked up. The cube¡¯s vibration had increased and the corner kept inching toward. Soon, the cube would slide off the ledge. Crap. Adrenaline coursed through him. They¡¯d be crushed for sure if they didn¡¯t get a move on. He urgently moved into the second step and pushed aether into his legs.

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    Just as they made it clear of the cube¡¯s shadow, its slide accelerated, and with a loud grinding noise, it fell off the ledge.

    Instead of smashing into the ground and blocking the valley, the cube hit the other wall of the valley and wedged itself in place. Their path back remained clear, albeit somewhat narrower.

    They drew to a stop, both panting. And then clutched their sides as they silently laughed. Although it had only been a false scare, Sam took immense comfort in knowing he¡¯d successfully used aether while in a state of panic. He¡¯d not last long if that proved beyond him.

    He pointed up to where the remaining third of the cube still sat on the ledge, then mimed a shoving gesture with his hands. Camila squinted for a second but shook her head. If somebody had caused the cube to fall, they were long gone. But that didn¡¯t make sense anyway because none of the recruits were capable of such a feat. At least, he hoped so.

    They lightly jogged to the end of the valley, which opened up to a series of flat-topped pyramid, surrounded by nothingness. The distance in between each one only amounted to a couple of feet, so on paper an easy jump. But Sam recalled the mention of errant wind that may make it through the barrier. This would be where such an occasion could spell disaster. Knowing Tar¡¯s proclivities, he figured the barrier would just so happen to be weaker over this spot.

    Camila had slid to a stop. She lifted her eyebrows and turned her palms up, meaning she wanted to check with him before moving forward. She pointed to the barrier, and Sam figured she¡¯d had the same thought about the possibility of wind.

    Sam moved to enter the second step. While using aether would take extra concentration, he diffused energy into his limbs just in case he lost his balance. He gave Camila a firm nod. She leaped onto the top of the first pyramid, then the second. Sam followed, barely breathing.

    Sure enough, right as he landed on the third flat-topped pyramids, an ice-cold gust of Saturn¡¯s finest wind struck his back, sending him keeling forward. He fell to his knees, and his momentum would have carried him over the edge, but he used his increased strength to push off at the last second. He pushed hard enough that he toppled in the other direction and landed on his back.

    Shaken and exhilarated, he seized on his adrenaline to get up and quickly dart to the ledge past the final pyramid. Camila stood in mid-pose, ready to leap after him. He patted her on the shoulder in gratitude, and the two of them each took a deep breath and shook themselves out.

    While they recovered, Sam observed their new surroundings. In front of them rose a series of floating platforms, each sitting about a foot above one another. The platforms grew smaller as they reached higher, leaving some space to climb them but only from the front.

    On the top platform, at the height of about a ten-story building, sat a circular stone structure, with blue stripes painted on the sides. They¡¯d found the Aces¡¯ base and were an easy climb away from claiming their flag. Could it be that easy?

    Easy answer. No, you fool.

    Sam and Camila gestured at the same moment that they needed to talk. They retreated to a corner of the forest of blocks that surrounded the platforms.

    Camila put a thumb to her chin. The helmet made her voice tinny. ¡°Running up those platforms on our own will leave us winded. What about using aether to sprint up?¡±

    Sam inhaled, the air made crisp and fresh by his uniform. ¡°I¡¯m worried we¡¯ll be easy to spot, and anybody in the base will have ample warning of our approach.¡±

    Camila pursed her lips. ¡°Right. Not sure how to avoid that though. Do you have another idea?¡±

    Sam evaluated the shapes of the platforms. ¡°How about we use our jetpacks and go from the back? They won¡¯t see us and we can save our aether for when we arrive.¡±

    Camila¡¯s eyes widened as she considered the implications. If they needed their jetpacks later on, they might not have enough fuel to make it back to safety.

    Sam had expected her to talk him out of it, but her desire to win must have overruled her concern. ¡°Yes, let¡¯s do it. The sooner we can win this match, the better.¡±

    They crept through the large shadows of the block forest, carefully avoiding the sightline of the base. When they encountered the stretch of open space separating the forest from the first platform, they sprinted forward. It was impossible to tell if anybody spotted them doing so, unfortunately, so it would just come down to chance. Panting, Sam stared at the sheer surfaces that made up the back of the platforms. Up close, the tallest one appeared much higher.

    ¡°I know it was my idea, but are we sure about this?¡± he whispered.

    Camila gave him a single resolute nod. She moved her hand over the wristband and counted down from three. They activated their jetpacks in tandem and instantly launched into the air. Sam felt a burst of elation as he left the ground behind. The strange sensation of lightness, the air whipping around him; this was freedom.

    Fortuitously, the clatter of the wind this close to the edge of the cube proved louder than the jetpacks. He mentally kicked himself. Forgot about that. Thank you, source of my good luck, keep at it please.

    As they approached the top, Sam toggled the digital controls on his wristband to slow down, with the aim to time his deceleration so he landed at the top as gently as possible. He thought he had it, but when he was about two feet above the platform, the jetpack abruptly shut off. He curled up his legs for impact and managed to roll as he landed and came to a stop right before reaching the side of the inner structure. He¡¯d avoided hurting his ankles, but he bet that any occupants of the base had felt a reverberation. Camila succeeded where he hadn¡¯t and landed gracefully next to him.

    He made the signal to prepare for confrontation.

    At that moment, Isidora, one of the Aces, rounded the corner, saw them and her face went blank. Sam guessed her sudden lack of expression precipitated aether use and quickly centered himself and moved energy through his body.

    The plan involved Sam going after the flag. Not wanting to squander any time, he attempted to launch himself past Isidora, but mid-stride she grabbed his wrist, arresting his momentum.

    Too late, he saw Camila gesture frantically at his ears. A thought sprang into his mind. Isidora¡¯s affinity was sonic energy. Where was that thought five seconds ago?

    He struggled to break free from her grip, but before he could, a cone of silence descended on him. He went slack, not even able to detect the sound of his own heart, which of course made it beat faster. A beat of the wings of a fly broke the quiet. Multiple flies now, circling his head. More and more, building to a roar of a nonstop buzzing. Invisible flies and bees everywhere, pulverizing him with noise. He desperately clamped his palms over his ears, making him lose balance and tumble forward. He splayed onto the ground.

    This caused Isidora to lose her grip, and he reclaimed his hearing, to his immense relief. He patted his ears warily and then flipped over. Isidora had moved to guard the entrance to the base, grim determination on her face, with Camila standing opposite of her, just as resolute.

    Observing the impasse, Sam took his time to stand up. He could tackle Isidora but had little appetite for exposing himself to her affinity again. Seeing him stay still, Camila gave him a significant glance. She moved her hands behind her back, then made the gesture to move forward and jerked her thumb toward herself.

    Thinking he got the gist, Sam tilted his head discreetly. Isidora spotted his movement and visibly tensed.

    Blood pounded in Sam¡¯s ears as he waited for Camila to make her move. She shifted her weight back and forth, then without warning, put her head down and charged Isidora. She held her hands in front of her, each surrounded with small coronas of light.

    Isidora had no choice but to steady herself and grapple with Camila, trying to keep her eyes from getting too close to the light and being blinded. While the two of them were occupied, Sam darted around them.

    It took a second to cast his gaze around the small, darkly lit, unfurnished interior room. He saw it. A carefully folded flag rested in the corner, tied with a ribbon of blue. He snatched it, then turned around. Camila lay on the ground, spasming slightly as Isidora held onto her shoulders.

    Sam growled faintly and called electricity to his hands. He moved forward, dodged Isidora¡¯s hand stretching out for him, and grabbed for her leg. Electricity moved through him with the ease of melted butter. Isidora let out a cry and tumbled to the ground, her eyes fluttering closed.

    Sam¡¯s use of electricity wasn¡¯t perfectly calibrated. That would have required more time to practice. He fervently hoped he hadn¡¯t hurt Isidora in any serious way.

    Sam bounced the flag from hand to hand. ¡°Got you, sucker.¡±

    Camila sat up and brushed herself off. She looked a bit woozy.

    Sam winced in sympathy. ¡°Feeling okay?¡±

    Camila pressed the sides of her head. ¡°Yes, I think so. Did she get you with the bee sound? I¡¯m allergic to them, so that was terrifying.¡± She shuddered.

    Sam licked his lips. ¡°Agreed. Did not enjoy, wouldn¡¯t do it again.¡± He looked back at Isidora, who remained unconscious. ¡°We should go. That¡¯s the first time I¡¯ve tried stunning someone and I don¡¯t know how long she¡¯ll be out.¡±

 18. Capture, Part 2

    Camila stood up again, and the two made their way down the platforms, this time using the front. They still moved urgently but with a noticeable lack of pep.

    Backtracking the path they¡¯d taken there, they reached the shorn pyramid tops without incident. Sam crouched low, infused himself with aether, and leaped from island to island. A gust struck him in the side on the last one before solid ground. He windmilled and regained his balance enough to make a final jump. Breathing hard, he exchanged a celebratory fist bump with Camila.

    They slinked their way past the fallen cube, keeping an eye out for any rogue vibrations. None came. Except, near the end of the valley, Sam heard the pitter-patter of steps behind them. He signaled to stop and turned his head slowly from side to side, listening. Nothing. Five feet more, and it happened again. And again. They¡¯d caught a very persistent shadow. Sam gestured to suggest an ambush, but Camila shook her head and signaled to keep going. Sam nodded in understanding. Speed was of the essence. They sped off as fast as they could, giving up any attempt at subterfuge.

    They reached the midpoint, where they originally entered the course. Sam¡¯s chest burned from running so hard, and he clutched his knees, panting. He tried moving aether through his chest, but it was like his lungs had been stabbed, and he gasped and stopped right away. Electrical aether and lungs must not mix all that well. He took a deep breath. Phew, they still worked.

    Formations of blocks and cubes greeted them, presenting a variety of different paths. A less-winded Camila consulted her wristband and took advantage of the mapping done by their teammates. She pointed to an opening to the right.

    They ducked through a tucked-away archway, only to be met by a large chasm that stretched the width of the cube. A cylinder, about five feet wide and the length of a football field, bridged the gap. It was the only path across. The chasm had no bottom. Sam tried not to look.

    Camila moved toward the cylinder, but Sam stopped her and patted his ears. A high-pitched whine emerged from the end of the cylinder nearest them. They inched closer and could feel air buffeting their bodies. Then it stopped and the whine became a howl as the air rushed back into the cylinder and flew in the other direction.

    Sam tapped his wrist. They needed to time it right. Each revolution of air lasted about a minute. If they entered with the air at their back, they might make it across in time to avoid the reversal.

    The exact second arrived, and they plunged inside. The power of wind at their back was such that Sam had to strive to avoid pitching forward.

    Once they reached the halfway mark, the cylinder began to turn slowly. Gah. He made it a few extra steps without losing balance, but the rotation picked up speed. Desperation cleaved all extraneous thoughts from existence, allowing him to push even further into the second step. He flushed his legs with a burst of aether and, energy restored, surged past Camila. As the cylinder picked up speed, he lost traction and shifted to the balls of his feet. He tap-danced his way up to the opening at the end, then rushed through with all he had.

    Camila¡¯s head emerged a split second behind him, right as the cylinder forcefully twisted to its side. Fearing Camila would slip and get trapped, Sam ignored the cramps in his sides, dropped down, and threw his hand out. In the space of a microsecond, she dived forward and grasped the hard edge of the ground that Sam stood on. She held on tightly with one hand. Sam immediately grabbed her other one and pulled her up.

    They sat, chests heaving. A foot away, the cylinder thrashed from side to side. Anybody inside would be shaken violently. It was survivable but would sure leave behind a fair share of bruises.

    ¡°If there is somebody tailing us, I wish them luck,¡± Sam muttered, not without sympathy.

    Not fully recovered but needing to keep moving, they turned to what faced them. An impassable wall stretched in both directions, but Camila pointed out an opening right at the edge where the wall met the boundary of the cube. They squeezed through, then for a good minute, they were confined to the thin path. Sam did his best to avoid touching the cube, fearing he¡¯d fall through.

    At last, the corridor ended, only to morph into a dark alleyway in between large, heavy blocks. Not relishing traversing in such an enclosed space, Sam stepped forward, eager to get this part over with. However, Camila stopped him with a raised hand. She pointed out some well-hidden handholds in a nook around the corner from the alleyway.

    The wall rose around forty feet. Unlike at a rock-climbing gym, they¡¯d have no harness. Sam¡¯s heart fluttered as he attempted to map out the route he¡¯d take. If he lost his grip, it was doubtful he could activate the jetpack in time to avoid splatting against the ground. The fear disrupted his connection to aether, and his legs weakened. The downside to relying on aether too much.

    Camila had evidently decided not to wait because she rotated her arms, kicked her legs up, and sprang onto the wall. Guess we¡¯re doing this. He watched as she swiftly moved from hold to hold. Your teammates are depending on you, Sam. He took a measured breath, exhaled his anxiety, and positioned himself against the wall. He tested the first grip. It held firm. He grabbed the second. You got this. His instincts kicked in, allowing his feet to act on their own. Reached for the third. Took hold of the fourth. Kept going and never looked down. The distance to the top shrank, bit by bit. Finally, he heaved himself over and breathed the biggest sigh of relief possible. Camila smiled at him warmly and imitated clapping.

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    Their height gave them a decent view of the overall course. The landscape around them revealed itself to be a field of jagged blocks, like the roofline of a medieval town. Eventually, the blocks dropped off, opening to a wide, open space, occupied by a series of concentric circles, with only a void in between them. A familiar structure stood on the central circle, but this time with green stripes. The overall formation reminded Sam of Saturn and its rings.

    Camila and Sam shared a meaningful look. They were in the home stretch, but a lot of the territory remained to be covered.

    Sam spotted movement to the left of the circles. A hollowed-out cube loomed in the distance. Inside it, human-shaped figures faced off in groups, looking like a classic standoff. It appeared their teammates had embroiled themselves in a conflict.

    Too late, Sam realized that they¡¯d exposed themselves. One of the members of the group closest to them turned in their direction and spotted them across the distance. They wasted no time getting the attention of the others, who collectively disengaged from the fight and sped off the cube, into the morass of lower-lying shapes.

    The other group observed and followed suit. Sam hadn¡¯t been able to tell which group was which, but in either case, they now had a race in front of them to reach home base.

    Feeling fresh from their victory over the wall climb, he and Camila held nothing back, zipping across the tops of the blocks. He bounced from one awkwardly sloped surface to another, his thighs flexing. Maybe I have a future in parkour.

    His lungs again burning, he hoped the cetoprene suit could keep up with his oxygen needs. He clutched the flag in his left hand, willing himself to hold onto it no matter what. At last, they reached the top of the last block. Judging the distance ahead of him, Sam reinforced his legs with aether, took a running start, and jumped onto the outermost circle, which was about three feet wide. He skidded to a stop just a few inches from the side.

    Camila hadn¡¯t joined him. He cast a glance backward and saw her wrestling with a blue-colored figure. Their shadow had made it after all.

    The shadow lunged toward Camila and almost succeeded in pushing her off the block they stood on, but Camila crouched low and scooted away from the edge. A pang of concern almost caused Sam to turn back, but he braced himself to go on. The second he reached the base, this would all be over.

    Right as he crouched to start his leap to the next circle, a cetoprene-covered hand reached out and snatched him, grabbing hold of the arm carrying the flag. His momentum arrested, Sam had to push off the edge of the circle to keep from falling.

    He turned up to face his attacker. The hand holding onto him had grown warm, uncomfortable so. The face a foot away from him revealed itself to be Victor¡¯s, wearing a devilish grin.

    The heat began to build, like he¡¯d stuck his arm in an oven. Feeling the start of a blister, Sam pulled as hard as he could to wrench his arm away, but Victor managed to keep his grip. Sam grunted in pain and twisted his head to look for reinforcements. Elias was running up to them, followed by Nadia. On the next circle over, Win danced around a blue fighter, who avoided his strikes through a series of fast and slow jumps. That would be Manal, making Jun, the fourth member of the Aces, the likely candidate for their shadow, now currently grappling with Camila.

    Elias and Nadia skid to a halt behind him. Given the narrowness of the circle, they couldn¡¯t get past him to fight off Victor without risking somebody falling off. They both stared at him helplessly.

    By now, a burn had formed on Sam¡¯s arm, and he let loose a howl of agony. He lacked the concentration to summon any electricity to fight back. Then came the outcome he dreaded: he lost control of the muscles of his hand. He watched in horror as his hand unclenched and the flag rolled down his fingers and floated into the open air.

    Adrenaline and stress caused time to slow. A breeze caught the flag and the angle of its descent changed. Rather than landing on the circle, it would spiral down to the depths below and be lost forever.

    A new one would generate back at the Aces¡¯ base, but Sam couldn¡¯t accept that outcome.

    Victor yelled triumphantly as the flag sailed through the gap between the circles. He released Sam¡¯s arm. Although it still pulsed with heat, it stopped hurting just enough to allow clarity of mind to return to Sam. He faced a choice. Camila¡¯s face flashed in front of his eyes, full of determination to win. He wouldn¡¯t let her down. Nor the rest of his teammates.

    He pressed his hands together and dived after the flag.

    The flag had only floated a few feet below them, so Sam caught up to it easily. Seconds ticked by as he tucked his knees into his chest and somersaulted midair. The movement came so fluidly that Sam could barely understand how he¡¯d done it. Sweat from the exertion and the residual heat from Victor¡¯s assault dripped down his forehead. Blinking, he looked around him.

    Oops. Huge mistake. His heart almost jumped out of his chest. Shit. Do something, you idiot. He brought up his wrist and toggled his jetpack. The jetpack heaved into action, and he began to climb. Every cell in his body throbbed. Did he pull it off? Please let this work.

    His short-lived euphoria was shoved aside as a downdraft of wind pushed on him. His jetpack sputtered and quit.

    Oh, God.

    He fell rapidly, and the ceiling of the transparent box grew distant. Once he crashed through the bottom and exited into the Saturn wilderness, he was done for. He thought he heard a scream. Was it his own?

    He closed his eyes. Frigid air rushed past him. He made a prayer and thought of his mother. He hoped she would forgive him. A sob wrecked him.

    He didn¡¯t want to die, but he¡¯d made a go of it. He could make peace with that.

    He willed his eyes open to at least observe the view as he descended, so he could see a place no human may ever witness again. But then something large hit him, knocking the breath out of him. Appendages . . . arms? . . . encircled him and his momentum arrested.

    What? How? Elias¡¯s sweat-drenched face was inches away from his, though he was looking up. Sam followed his line of sight to see his sister crouched over the side of the circle, her hands outstretched in their direction.

    They accelerated and made up the distance. A flood of relief and wonder washed over him. Thank you.

    At the same time, a cloud of dizziness descended on his mind. His stomach churned viciously, and he saw stars. On the aether plane, sludge overwhelmed his barrier and splashed into him, sending lightning bolts hurling all about.

    He flung the flag toward his sister and then all went black.

 19. Sibyl

    Sam could sense his existence, but it was tenuous at best. His senses dulled and muted, he felt as though bundled in the tight silk of a spider¡¯s web. He couldn¡¯t tell if he could breathe but also didn¡¯t care.

    A muffled voice pierced his mental fog, reedy and distinct. ¡°Our agent has confirmed. The moment the Sibyl foretold is here. Initiate the process.¡±

    A second voice responded, its tone betraying anxiousness. ¡°Yes, Augur. I have alerted her.¡±

    A beat went by before the second voice spoke again. ¡°He¡¯s locked in. The Sibyl is ready.¡±

    ¡°Well done. Send him along then.¡±

    The cog of a machine whirred. The second voice cursed. ¡°Ebulon-damned. His mind already attached.¡±

    The first voice responded sharply. ¡°What are you talking about? Where is he?¡±

    ¡°Uh . . . he¡¯s here. With us.¡±

    Sam heard the loud slam of a chair falling over. ¡°Quickly, get him out of here. Now! If he gets stuck here, all is lost!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m trying. I need a minute,¡± the second voice whined.

    ¡°Stop talking. Just do it.¡±

    Some amount of time went by before he felt a strong tug on his consciousness. His mind swirled into a proverbial black hole.

    #

    His senses returned. Sam took a breath. Oh, glad that¡¯s back.

    Darkness surrounded him, until bricks of existence flew into view, coming one by one. They stacked on top of each other and formed a picture.

    Even as the image remained incomplete, Sam saw he was home. Or some version of it. The familiar motel apartment flexed and settled into place. His mother¡¯s room.

    Sam brushed away the thick air in front of him, puzzled. The details did not compute. The curtains were pulled back, letting sunlight brighten the room. No dust filtered through the air. He took a sniff. An absence of the lingering scent of astringent lemon that had enveloped his mother since her sickness started.

    His Ma¡¯s bed was neatly made and unoccupied. He tried the bathroom. Nothing.

    As though his mind was read, the door creaked open, and his mother glided in. On her own accord.

    She looked radiant. The worry lines on her face had smoothed, and no dark circles sat underneath her eyes. She wore loose-fitting casual clothes and had shiny chestnut-colored hair that draped lightly over her shoulders.

    It was a portrait of his mother that Sam didn¡¯t recognize. His eyes welled up at the prospect of what this might mean. Had the medicine Tar provided been this effective? Had his mother fully recovered?

    He rushed to hug her, but her smile caused his feet to stop mid-motion, and he almost tripped.

    It¡¯s not her. The smile was so many things his mother was not. Shrewd, beatific, all-seeing¡ªall of those wrapped into one. Ethereal. A combination not possible in a human. His Ma was a formidable woman, but whoever stood in front of him existed on a different plane of reality.

    A surge of anger rose inside him. Whoever this was had taken on the guise of somebody dear to him. For what purpose? He didn¡¯t appreciate the blatant attempt at manipulation.

    He cut to the chase. ¡°You are not my mother. Why do you look like her? Did you do something to her?¡±

    His mother . . . this being . . . flashed a pleased expression. ¡°Good. You will master the third step quickly.¡± She gestured to the bed. ¡°Your mother is fine. Take a seat. Let me explain.¡±

    Sam crossed his arms and remained standing.

    ¡°Suit yourself.¡± She pulled a chair out for herself and crossed her legs. ¡°I am Sibyl Bir-Ate. I have summoned you to meet with me. I¡¯ve instructed your mind to reduce its level of perception. Otherwise, direct contact with my aether being in this form would cause your brain to hemorrhage. The image you see is your mind¡¯s way of interpreting my command.¡±

    Sam massaged his temples. His outrage reduced from a boil to a simmer. Despite himself, the situation intrigued him. Judging by the title and name, this was another Xarlogic, one who had gone through a lot of effort to contact him. ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll pretend to understand what that means. Who were those voices I heard?¡±

    The woman sighed, the dimples in her cheeks rosy and perfectly placed. ¡°Summoning is an inexact art, especially because the solar system you reside in sits outside of the Collective. I¡¯m afraid we made an error at first, but that has been rectified. Not to worry. You will not be permanently affected.¡±

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Sam narrowed his eyes. Why did all his introductions to Xarlogics come with a side of screwing with his head?

    She stood up and stepped in his direction. She exhibited perfect posture, and her head reached the top of his chest. It¡¯d been a couple of years since his Ma could stand so straight. ¡°You are right to be skeptical, but my time with you is limited. Please allow me to get to the point. I need to share with you a few key pieces of information to ensure that you end up where you need to be. Unfortunately, I can only say so much, for choices must be made organically or they can no longer be called choices. Such is the way of the eighth step.¡±

    Something happened with Sam¡¯s mind, where instead of insisting she clarify as he desired to, he let himself be drawn in. ¡°Okay, then. I¡¯m willing to listen.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± She smiled with a tinge of tenderness and reached up to hold his chin in her hand. For the opportunity to see his mother so close, even if only an illusion, Sam didn¡¯t resist. ¡°I say this in the gentlest way possible. You are talented and show great promise, but you have not been chosen. From what little I know of your planet¡¯s culture, your species has ritualized the hero¡¯s journey down to a science. That is not your story. Your path is about burden. Who you are, who you will be, is the right person at the right time. So that you might bear the weight of decisions and hardships that others could not endure. Be strong, Sam.¡±

    Sam sighed in resignation. He¡¯d come to Sanctum ready to change his life, but it seemed like old patterns would repeat themselves. ¡°To what end?¡±

    ¡°Earth¡¯s freedom.¡± She let go of his face. ¡°Like every unwary new planet, you face the prospect of being consumed. Chewed to the bone, nothing left but a graveyard. Your people must do everything in your power to avoid this fate.¡±

    She spoke with great authority, but Sam needed more. Tar puts this on our shoulders, and this Sibyl doubles the weight. Did he believe her? He stared into her eyes, and in their depths resided both ancient wisdom and layers of agony, pain, and guilt. This lent undeniable credence to her words, a certain authenticity and worn belief.

    She¡¯s not lying. She¡¯s experienced this firsthand. Sam¡¯s knees buckled, and he sank down onto the bed. The universe meant to assign him responsibility for all of Earth. Insanity. Pure bullshit. He didn¡¯t want this.

    The Sibyl cocked her head, the movement so distant from Sam¡¯s mother that he almost gagged. She rested a hand on his knee, but it was devoid of warmth. ¡°Refrain from panic. You will not go into this blind. My gift to you now is wisdom from the future.¡±

    The room shook, sending items flying, and Sam looked at the Sibyl in dismay. Aether bubbled out from her eyes and dribbled from the corners of her mouth. It began to flow in earnest, wrapping her with swirling rivers of pure luminescent energy. The aether pulled on their surroundings, eating bits and pieces of the room. Sam tried to scoot back on the bed, toward the headboard, but a tendril snapped out in his direction, piercing his chest. Sam sucked his breath in, bracing himself for pain, but the aether felt like a cold ice bath, making his body numb. For a couple of seconds, this sensation persisted, then abruptly the cocoon of energy withdrew into the Sibyl¡¯s eyes, leaving them glowing a pale silver color. A small slip of paper materialized from nowhere in her hand.

    She indicated he should take it, but before he could do so, the paper lifted and floated to him on its own, as if riding a gentle breeze. He gently picked it from the air and stretched it out with his fingers. A drawn picture of an eye. Neither a human nor Xarlogic eye; the half-circle, half-triangle reminded Sam of a bird of prey. It appeared sharp, angular, and focused.

    The Sibyl¡¯s voice startled him. Her tone was distant and cold. ¡°You will need to trust the bearer of that symbol. This will require a leap of faith, but a necessary one.¡±

    The paper turned hot in his hand, almost causing Sam to drop it. The eye had scrubbed itself out, replaced by an upside-down pyramid. A snake encircled it, eating its own tail.

    The Sybil¡¯s lips thinned. ¡°Conversely, beware those who display this image. Mercenaries who have no care for causing collateral damage. Your choices during a possible confrontation will be instrumental toward determining Earth¡¯s destiny.¡±

    ¡°Does it belong to Tar or his associates?¡± Sam blurted. He had to ask.

    She scrutinized him, looking like she was making an assessment. ¡°No.¡±

    Sam waited, but she said no more. He heaved a sigh. ¡°Why should I listen to you? How do I know you have my¡ªand my planet¡¯s¡ªbest interest at heart?¡±

    Though the warmth had returned to her cheeks, the Sibyl¡¯s smile turned bitter. ¡°You¡¯re right to ask. Our galaxy is riddled with those who profit from deception. We all abide by our own self-interest because that is the law that governs all intelligent beings. But in this case, my goals align with yours, so you would do well to heed this guidance.¡±

    Sam nodded mutely. What did he expect her to say? Whatever her ulterior motive, it mattered little if the future of Earth was at stake. He needed all of the help he could get.

    She stood up and faced him. ¡°We¡¯ve reached the end. My last imparting thought. When presented with the chance to offer grace and forgiveness, I hope you take it. That is the mark of a true hero, whether you¡¯re fated to become one or not.¡±

    An outside heaviness caused Sam¡¯s shoulders to sag. It was time to leave. Grace and forgiveness. Got it. Sure.

    The bricks making up the room rippled and the ceiling dissolved. His mother¡ªSam¡¯s stomach plunged, Ma, I miss you¡ªgave a stately wave. ¡°We will meet again, Sam Azza. If all goes to plan, I will elaborate more then. Good luck. I¡¯ll be watching.¡±

    The scene went black.

    #

    Mim piloted Tar¡¯s personal ship, Tar sitting beside her. They¡¯d just left the gas giant¡¯s docking station. Tar looked perplexed, clearly lost in thought. Mim wondered how this latest development fit into his grand plan. Sam rested in the passenger¡¯s quarters behind them, unconscious and maybe even comatose. Medical droids were standing by on the Sanctum, ready to receive him in Tar¡¯s personal hangar.

    Mim raised her head. Her aether sense tingled. An outside presence. A familiar one.

    Tar noticed her behavior and gave her an inquisitive look. He of course knew how much she excelled in the third step. It was one of the reasons he hired her. Or, put properly, found her at her most desperate and offered her a lifeline.

    She shook her head, doing her best to appear dismissive and untroubled. No. This will be my secret. Yes, Tar had saved her, but it wasn¡¯t like she didn¡¯t know the truth of the matter. His offer had come at just the opportune time, when she was most primed to agree. Far too coincidental.

    The strings between them may be unseen, but she knew they existed. Maybe this new player would offer her the opportunity to cut them.