Maia and the Xifarian Conspiracy (The Lightbound Saga Book 1) (9 page)

Nafi turned away and nearly closed the door behind her before she came back out again. “I don’t like discussing my family matters with people, so it would be nice if you could make your curiosity a little less obvious.”

After Nafi left, and after her abrupt words had sunk into Maia’s rather dazed mind, she lingered in the common area with the other three, inspecting it. The room was plain with its bare white walls and sharp-contoured furnishings, but it was well equipped. Each of them had a writing desk complete with their name tags, one small water dispensing machine, and a mini library stacked with reference materials on a variety of subjects. At the center of each table lay what seemed like a scroll, but it turned out to be rolled-up display console instead. Maia assumed they could use it to access data vaults for their exercises. There were a couple of chaises in one corner with a large table between them that Maia thought was the coziest part of the room.

The modest décor was carried forward into their individual chambers. A bed stood against the far wall, and a small table with drawers stood between the bed and the door to the small but efficient washroom. A large closet stretched across another wall. Alone in her room, tired from a long day, Maia plopped on her bed, groaning at the colorlessness of her simply but effectively furnished surroundings and longing for the warmth of her home.

Things had gone well so far, given the curious array of personalities around her. There was the feisty Nafi and the rather brash Ren, but then there was also the wise and steady Kusha, and the sweet and gentle, if not a little too overly-devoted-to-her-brother Dani, to balance out the spirited ones. But this was just the beginning; there were many more people to meet, and a lot to do. Maia sighed, wondering how the next few months of her imprisonment would turn out. She drifted off into a slumber with unexpected thoughts of her mother, wondering if Sophie had ever felt as lonely here as she felt right now.

15: Trek to the Snoso

Maia woke up the next morning feeling barely rested. The unfamiliarity of the place and the sheer bleakness of the environment had made her toss and turn through the night. She washed in a hurry, rushed to the closets that lined one side of her room, and opened the door marked “UNIFORMS.” Rows of jackets hung inside, and Maia pulled one out, immediately noticing its similarity to the long, high-collared ones the Xifarian scouts had worn to Appian. Only this was a dark gray instead of their inky black, and the blazing gold buttons were smaller and plainer. Matching gray pants and white shirts, suspended in neat rows, filled up the rest of the cabinet. Dressing quickly, she finished wrapping the jacket on top, buttoning it up to her neck. It fit her flawlessly. Slipping on a pair of thick-soled boots, she stepped out into the study to find the others waiting. They were all dressed the same; the only difference lay in their name tags. Kusha’s red headband stood out in sharp contrast amidst the gray, and Maia wondered if he would be allowed to wear it.

“Are you—”

Nafi interrupted before Maia could finish. “He insists on wearing that stupid headband of his, and you are late. If we are to meet our mentor in time, I suggest that we get going and save the chitchat for later.”

“It’s not stupid,” Kusha said grumpily, scowling at Nafi. “I’ve never taken this headband off, and I’m surely not taking it off now. And certainly not because
you
think I should.”

“Wait till they make you,” Nafi replied with feigned indifference.

Kusha scowled some more, and Dani nervously chewed her lips.

“Fun start for day one,” Ren chuckled, obviously enjoying the banter. He still wore all his flashy rings and did not seem the least bit troubled by Nafi’s dire warning. Nafi did not seem too eager to show her concern for Ren’s appearance either, nor did she comment on the Jjordic talisman that shone on Dani’s lapel.

They rushed into the dining room, where other groups were already finishing breakfast. An interesting mix of faces was spread around the room—some worried and some happy, some at home with new friends, and some just as wound up as Nafi.

“Let’s see which room we’ve been assigned,” Ren said after emptying his morning “FOOD” box. He pressed an almost-imperceptible button embedded at the center of their table. A silver screen slid out of the base and lit up with instructions.

“It says that our counsel room will be the Snoso.” Ren intently studied a map that flashed on the screen. “I think I got it—below WT4, across the Hall of Spires, up to L4 via the SE4. The Snoso is at the end of the Gallery of the Planets. We’re lucky to have that room or anything in the Planetary Wing for that matter. The rooms up there have great views of the quadrant, so I’ve heard.”

He stopped and looked at the confused faces staring back at him.

“I’ll explain as we walk. We’ve quite a way to go.” He flashed an apologetic smile as he rose.

The path to the Snoso took them up the glass staircase they had seen the night before. Groups of somber-faced students of the XDA walked busily around the place, dressed in similarly styled uniforms as Maia and her friends were wearing, but in different colors. Most students of the academy wore a dark shade of blue and a few wore black.

“Black is for the seniors—that’s the final year or Circle Four students. Blue for all other years,” Ren spoke with an air of seriousness. “We, as visitors, get to wear this uninspiring gray.

“Back to the directions . . . first we go below WT4, that’s short for Wind Tunnel Number 4. The academy has sixteen wind tunnels like this one, which circulate and condition the air within it.” Ren pointed at the enormous, transparent tunnel that stretched in front of them. A multitude of silver balls with spines of various lengths protruding from their bodies, floated within the shaft, turning and swirling in a myriad of complex motions.

“Those are the interceptors—robots that monitor the air quality, regulate the airflow, and perform maintenance of the airway,” Ren explained as they walked past.

A large squadron of academy students filed together near the wind tunnel; a severe-looking lady stood next to them barking orders.

“Morning drill for Circle Two,” Ren whispered. He pointed at the corner away from the assembly. “We go through there.”

For a brief moment, Maia stared incredulously at the solid wall. Then she saw the faintest outline of a door engraved on the white. As Ren pressed a plate next to it, the panel slid open noiselessly, revealing a short corridor. The group walked quickly through the passageway and stepped into a massive hall that lay beyond its other end.

“This is called the Hall of Spires, and you can see why.” Ren pointed at the columns that filled the cold and shadowy hall. There were thousands of them—gray-white behemoths that rose up to the distant roof at least ten stories above. The mammoth columns made Maia feel small, and she instinctively inched closer to the group. To her surprise, even the stalwart Nafi slowed down as they crossed the Hall of Spires in silence.

“And here’s SE4, SE meaning Spiral Elevator,” Ren announced, opening another camouflaged door on the other side of the endless field of columns. “There is nothing ‘spiral’ about it though, just a simple elevator that goes up and down.

“Level 4, please,” Ren spoke into a small speaker as the door closed and the box began to rise immediately, stopping at what Maia assumed was Level 4.

“Behold the spectacular Gallery of Planets,” Ren said when the doors opened, waving in the direction of the corridor in a manner that reminded Maia of the flamboyant vice principal. “Here you’ll find replicas of every planetary system Xif has visited so far.”

What lay ahead was different from all the areas in the academy that Maia had seen until now. Although this corridor was also painted white, it was far from dreary. Recessed display cases lined the two sides, and Maia stood speechless when she peeked into the first niche; it held a small green planet, a model so perfect that it felt eerily real, as if someone had shrunk a real planet and put it behind the glass. Even the waves in its oceans sparkled and the clouds in its atmosphere moved. The gold engraving in front of the alcove said “Knossos, Eti I System.”

“We’re running late, Maia. We can look at the Gallery of Planets later,” Kusha whispered as he tugged her arm.

“Here we are . . . the Snoso,” Ren announced from the head of their small procession.

Maia trudged into the Snoso, still preoccupied, half expecting to find an uninspiring classroom painted a predictable white. What she saw instead made her blink in disbelief. Her teammates stood in rapt attention along the wall of the room that was arranged like a small amphitheater. Five steps led down from the door they had entered to the center where a lone podium stood. But it was the view through the giant glass panes behind the podium that took everyone’s breath away. Beyond the window, a sea of gleaming buildings stretched all the way to the horizon. The collage of towers and spires shimmered in the soft light, colossal structures looming like an endless army of imposing giants. The scene was awe-inspiring, almost magical.

Maia did not remember how long they stood staring, but for the longest while, no one spoke. The sound of the door opening behind them broke the spell.

16: Miir

Maia almost choked when she turned around. The pale, angular face flushed with arrogance was unmistakable, the gray patch that stretched down from his forehead still as repulsive as Maia could remember. His flashing dark eyes met hers and narrowed to slits. The obnoxious Xifarian intruder who had so audaciously insulted her in her own home was back, except now he had a name and a position of power to boot. Without saying a word to the team, he strode to a panel on the wall and flicked a switch. The glass window turned white, wiping out the glorious scenery beyond.

“If you will let me pass,” their mentor said coldly to Dani and Nafi who stood gawking on the path down to the podium. They jumped back at his remark, Nafi’s face twisting into a grimace while Dani’s cheeks flushed violently.

They hastened to take seats as he walked toward the dais. Kusha settled on the first step to his right, and Nafi and Ren sat right behind Kusha on the second and the third tier. On the other side, to the left of their mentor, Maia and Dani took refuge on the steps farthest away from the podium.

“Just in case you have not figured out my name already, I am Miir. For the next few months, I will be your counselor, or mentor. Let me be clear, I am not here to be your friend, but to facilitate your learning experience. I personally think you have a lot to catch up on, if you want to move on to the next phase,” Miir said, his gaze sweeping over the five anxious faces.

“I am a Circle Four student at this academy. Being here has been the greatest experience of my life, and I hope you too will value your brief stay at the XDA.

“My first responsibility is to assess your levels of proficiency. While Yilosario has never been wrong in putting teams together, we always review the selection to ensure that no one in the team is weak enough to bring the rest of the squad down during the various group challenges. For that evaluation, I have a virtual pod of the Raap Beetle—one of the deadliest pests that we have encountered in three centuries of travel. Thousands have died trying to fight these.”

Miir held out a shiny black egg about four times the size of a sea-fowl. Purple-and-green streaks formed an intricate patchwork over its dark surface. He placed a small wire pedestal at the center of the rink and gently positioned the pod on it.

“A whole pod like this can house thousands of baby bugs, which can bite through the flesh of a person within moments. These pods are hard to eradicate with long-distance firearms, thanks to the tremendously resilient scales that cover its entire surface. The only way of destroying the pod is to slice it along the nerve line at the center of the sensory column that stretches up and down and across the middle.”

Miir paused, as if to enjoy the horrified expressions on the faces around him. He then pointed at the tapered tip of the egg and the lean gray stripe that ran down through its middle.

“That silver streak at the middle of the gray patch is the nerve line. Remember, to kill the nerve center, you have to slice it precisely along that silver stripe. If the first blow does not kill the nerve center completely, the pod releases as many insects that it can, as many as the surviving nerves control. These baby insects are not any less vicious than the adults, and they attack with the intent to kill whatever lies in their path.”

“What horrid pests. Where are they from?” Kusha blurted.

“The fourth planet of the Ssoiffean System,” Miir replied, shooting an annoyed glance at Kusha.

“Why did you have to go there? Were you looking for something?” Kusha asked again.

There was a substantial pause before Miir replied. “We were collecting some trade resources.”

“Was there no other way to eradicate them? I mean, other than cracking them open one at a time?”

The pause was even longer this time around.

“There was one other way. Using pesticides that permeate their armor, but that was not an option because these caustic pesticides could damage the trade resources we intended to collect.”

Kusha fidgeted a little before speaking again. “Thousands had to die fighting these horrible things because pesticides could harm trade resources? Are you—”

Miir cut him off. “If I wanted a commentary on our moral dilemmas from you, had it been relevant to what we are trying to accomplish, I would have surely asked. Since I did not, your focus on the task itself will be a better use of your time and of everyone else’s.”

Kusha sank back into his seat, his face darkened. Everyone looked nervous. If this meeting was any indication of things to come, Maia was not eager to imagine what lay ahead.

“I shall demonstrate the correct way to deactivate the pod followed by an incorrect one,” Miir continued.

He drew out a small sword from behind the podium and struck the egg with remarkable swiftness and ferocity. Maia sat up and leaned forward to see. The sharp edge of the weapon had cut right through the tip of the egg, bisecting it into two perfectly symmetrical halves that lay with their internal circuitry exposed. As his audience looked on in awe, Miir stepped forward and put the broken portions back together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. The parts meshed into each other seamlessly, and within moments the egg was ready for the next trial.

Miir’s second strike missed the nerve center by the tiniest bit. As the two pieces fell apart, they rattled, contracted, and then expunged about a dozen bright sparks of light. They hovered in the air above the broken pod and then rushed toward Miir, who stepped back and slashed at the flying particles. The sparks died off as soon as the lance touched them. It took him three swipes to take all of them out; his nonchalance through the whole exercise made it look ridiculously simple.

“Those lighted particles, though just an imitation of the real beetles, do sting. I would not want one to land on me.”

With that comment, Miir turned toward Kusha and handed him the weapon. Kusha looked subdued as he took aim. And then he struck. It was a clean cut through the tip; not a single spark came out of the pod as it lurched and broke into two. Miir simply nodded curtly in response to the expert demonstration. As Kusha took his seat, Miir turned toward Maia and Dani.

“A volunteer from this side?” he asked.

Maia looked at Dani’s drawn face; she seemed every bit as apprehensive as Maia was. It was understandable, Maia thought to herself, the stress of performing well in front of an overly critical examiner was not easy to handle. Maia, however, was anxious to get it over with. Not sensing much interest in her companion, she got to her feet. As she stepped toward the small pedestal, a similarity that was so obvious suddenly became apparent. This egg, she realized, was not very different from the seed heads she trained with in Appian. The small smile that crept into her face and the sparkle in her eyes did not fail to draw the mentor’s attention, as he threw out a wry comment immediately.

“Looks too easy to you?”

“No,” Maia protested in a hurry. She was not looking forward to confronting this icon of arrogance on her very first day.

Standing with her sword poised, Maia wavered. On one hand, she wanted to try to disable the nerve center, but on the other, she also wanted to spill a few and tackle them in flight. Maia decided to strike the sensory column at an angle so a part of the pod could survive. As she brought down the weapon, she desperately hoped that Miir would not detect the plan behind the faulty hit.

There was a brief delay between the strike and the release of the sparks of light. They soared up, hovered briefly above the broken pod, and charged ahead. They were different; smaller than the flower seeds, and faster than Maia had expected. But she still had to make her plan work. Instinctively she stepped back, scanning hard to find a pattern before the swarm reached her. She found one—the curve and the slash and two more curves—
far too many strokes.
Maia kept looking, eyes scanning in a nervous rush. Then she found the one swipe that could take them all. With her lips twisting into a smile, she slashed her way across the web of flickers, wiping out every single one.

“Wow!” Ren had sprung to his feet, clapping.

Maia flashed a grateful smile at her visibly impressed teammate and then stole a furtive glance at Miir.

He stood staring, studying her face as if trying to solve a riddle, then stepped forward to patch the egg and retrieve the sword from Maia. “Just cannot help showing off, can you?” he said in an undertone heavy with disapproval.

Nafi went next; her cut was clean. Dani followed not so successfully; she managed to keep the spurt to just five, of which she quickly killed four. The last one lodged firmly on her arm, making her yelp in pain. Ren was the last to face the pod, and he did not just stop at cutting it into two, but proceeded to cut the halves further along the center. Maia was suddenly thankful to be on the same team as the Xifarian boy. He certainly took the cape of the resident show-off off her shoulders.

“That was an impressive display, Ren, although somewhat unnecessary,” Miir commented dryly.

Ren simply shrugged.

“You are all quite capable, but you lack focus,” Miir declared after a while. “I would advise that you put extra effort into keeping yourselves out of trouble. Do not think that you are allowed to take liberties as you please, simply because you are visitors. Your stay is regulated by the same code that guides all students in this academy, and any transgressions will result in the strictest penalties. Also, I have had a spotless career here, and I hope to keep it that way. I shall not be appreciative if you intend to tarnish my reputation by association.”

They turned to look as Miir pointed at a corner of the room.

“You will store your personal protection devices in that closet. Under no circumstance will you carry a weapon without my explicit permission. Is that understood?”

Heads nodded in unison.

“Okay then, let us find out who the team leader is,” Miir said as he drew a small metal tablet from behind the podium and punched its keys vigorously. Puzzled glances flew across the room. He had not spoken about this before; no one had known that they were being evaluated for team leadership.

At the podium, Miir frowned. He looked at Maia, the grimace still in place as if he detested what he was asked to do, and said, “You.”

Maia shuddered.
He surely did not mean that I am the team leader.
She was in no position to be one. Not only was she not interested, but she was simply ill equipped to be anything but a regular tag-along. She was vaguely aware of the critical glances and doubtful looks that were shot her way. It annoyed her to no end. They failed to understand that she did not want this, that she would gladly give it away if she could.

“Now, does anyone have any questions?”

No one said a word, except Maia. “You mean . . . I’m the team—“

“Leader,” Miir completed the sentence.

“But . . . what if I don’t . . . don’t want to be . . .” she stammered and stopped midway, realizing nothing would change just because she was unwilling.

Miir flashed a cold stare. “Given a choice, knowing what I know about your tendency of questioning rules and your fondness for disrespecting authority, I would not have picked you at all. But it was not my decision, and I can do nothing to reverse it.”

There it is, just like I thought.
Not only had he plainly stated his low opinion of her, but he also made it clear that there was no reasoning with anyone or anything on Xif. With every passing moment they were dragging her deeper and deeper into the muddle, making Maia wonder what they would demand next. Her mind went numb, and like they always did when she ran out of ideas, her cold fingers reached for the ends of her pigtails. Around her silence reigned until Miir spoke.

“Well then, we shall meet again in two weeks. If needed, you can use your team communicator to contact me in the meantime.”

He surveyed their faces one last time and strode out of the room.