The Black Stars (10 page)

“Let's stick together,” Tom said.

“You don't have to tell me twice,” Mason replied.

“Watch it,” Jiric said, bumping into Mason from behind. It didn't seem on purpose.

In the main room, the rhadjen dressed in their robe jackets. Mason thought the robes were cool, always seeming to hover a millimeter off the floor, but he couldn't understand the tactical advantage of them. The robes the full Rhadgast wore seemed even more complex, with layers that moved and flowed like they were alive. Mason remembered seeing his first Rhadgast, how his robes had rolled out from him like a tapestry of lashing snakes.

“We're already late!” Po called out. As they finished dressing, Mason worked a finger under his collar and tugged to get some air.

Mason pulled Po aside as the others pulled on their boots. “Where do we go?”

Po winked and patted Mason on the back. “You're with us, humans.”

“Thank goodness,” Tom said.

“We join you guys for class?” Mason said. “All day?”

“Yep. Bunkmates take classes together to build trust as a unit. One day when we graduate, we'll be deployed as a unit, too. For right now, I'm the team captain, until someone proves they're better for the job.”

“And I'm coming for you,” Risperdel said, grinning.

Genius,
Mason thought. Academy I and II had units, but you didn't train with the same group of people during your entire time at school.

Po started for the door, but Mason grabbed his arm lightly. “Wait.”

Po huffed a sigh. “Do you want to be late?”

“No, just … there's a lot of extra beds. Who else used to be here?”

The rustle of fabric faded away, silence took its place, and Mason realized everyone had stopped getting dressed and was now staring at him. Mason regretted asking, but if there were members of the team he and Tom had just replaced, he wanted to know. Mason and Tom didn't need another reason to be hated.

When Po looked at him, his eyes were solemn. “We don't know where they are. They're probably dead. Don't ask about it again.” He looked at the others. “Finish up. Now.” They listened.

Two minutes later Mason and his new team were in their first class of the day. There were no desks, no chairs. The classroom was a cylinder-shaped room on level 43, on the Stone side of the dome. Mason had assumed Bloods didn't travel to the Stone side of the sphere, and vice versa, but it appeared he was wrong. There were no “sides.”

The seats were molded force fields that sprouted from holes in the floor. His teammates spread out and sat down in them, shifting around into comfortable positions. The force field chairs shifted along with them, molding to their bodies. It beat the crappy plastic chairs Mason had sat in his entire life, and they didn't even make your hair stand up.

The teacher's name was Broxnar, and he was by far the largest Tremist Mason had ever seen, with an immense pale bald head. He wore silky purple and blue robes, closed by an ornate sash that was ready to burst apart if he inhaled too deeply. But when he saw Mason and Tom, he gave a genuine smile, and there was excitement in his eyes. To Mason, it seemed similar to the excitement a child has when they visit a zoo for the first time and see some long extinct animal clone.

Broxnar rubbed his meaty hands together. “Welcome to our two newest students. How do you say your names—May-sun and Tome?”

The team laughed, almost all of them, including Po. It wasn't a mean laugh, which was a start.

“Mason and
Tom,
” Tom corrected him.

“Yes, yes, May-son and
Tommm
,” he said, tasting the words. “You'll excuse me, I don't have an implant for your language.”

To Mason's extreme surprise, Lore giggled.

“Now, I have a special treat for you all, in honor of our new friends, our new brothers in attendance. Today we're going to experience the Divider and the Uniter.”

A halfhearted cheer went up. Po actually started clapping. He leaned in. “Normally Broxnar teaches Rhadgast history, but with lectures and homework. Today we get to
live
something, thanks to you guys.”

Mason had no idea what that meant, but he said, “Uh, happy to help.”

Suddenly the room went dark and silent, and then a lone Tremist appeared in the middle of the room, like magic. Tom stiffened beside him, and Mason almost jumped out of his seat. But it was an illusion. It had to be. Just like Merrin had been.

When this Rhadgast, clad in robes of silver and sage, turned around and seemed to look directly into the eyes of every student in the room, they all cheered.

“Quiet!” Broxnar said. “You may have seen this before, but there will be a new test.”

Over the next hour, Mason watched a series of events unfold right before his eyes, as if he were living it alongside the ancient heroes of the Rhadgast. The events told the story of the Uniter and the Divider.

Six hundred years earlier, the Tremist had not achieved space flight, but they had mastered electricity. Like humans once had, the Tremist warred on their own planet. The Rhadgast, elite warriors sworn to defend the people, were deployed to quell uprisings as they came, but soon there was a rift in the mighty order. Many Rhadgast were dying, and some wondered why they were sacrificing their lives for others when no real progress toward peace was being made. These Rhadgast wanted to get serious with their attacks and brutally strike at their enemies until the only option was surrender.

The other half of the order said these Rhadgast were hard as Stone and had forgotten
why
the Rhadgast had chosen them. Their power was given to them so they could protect people.

Today, Broxnar was quick to point out, the Stones no longer believe in such ferocious tactics, thanks to the leader of the Stones, Master Rayasu. They simply believe in the greater good. The value of one life does not compare to many, but they will still protect the innocent and die for them. Broxnar didn't elaborate on what involvement Master Rayasu played in changing the Stones to a less-extreme faction.

The first Tremist Mason saw in the room was the Divider, Jo-tep. He split the Rhadgast order one morning at the start of a long winter. There was no Rhadgast sphere in those days, just a series of wooden buildings linked together with tunnels underground.

Mason watched as the Divider walked up to the house of the Blood leader, put his hands on the wall …

… and let his gloves heat until the wood caught fire. The Blood leader escaped with his life, but the war was on. It lasted forty-seven years, closer to thirty Earth years, since Skars orbited its star faster than Earth. Skars suffered as much as the Rhadgast, for they revered their elite warriors, and to see them fighting among themselves demoralized the entire planet.

It was a dark time. The king was assassinated, and for twelve years there was no leadership.

Until the Uniter, Aramore.

The Bloods in the classroom cheered when he appeared. He was riding what appeared to be a large jungle cat with red and black stripes, to match the red and black stripes in his hair. The cat reminded Mason of a saber-toothed tiger, but with the two big fangs jutting up from the bottom, not the top. The Uniter wore leather armor and a cape of crimson silk. He wore gloves more powerful than anyone else's, Broxnar said. The gloves were neither red nor purple, but black. Completely black. Where he got the gloves from was a mystery. Where he
came
from was a mystery. One day he just showed up, wielding the gloves of power.

The Uniter stood in front of a legion of Bloods. “I am here to put us back together. I am here to restore dignity to our order.”

And that's exactly what he did. He warred with the Stones who would not cooperate. He warred by himself. Though there is no record, it was said the Uniter created an impenetrable dome of black lightning around himself, then walked directly into the Stones' camp, repelling any who came too close.

By then the Divider was an old man. He was wearing a different kind of armor than before, Mason noted. It looked exactly like the armor worn by the Tremist King, or at least the armor he used to wear.

“Yield,” the Uniter said.

“Never,” the Divider replied.

The Uniter killed him on the spot. Eyewitnesses said the Uniter had been corrupted by the gloves and began killing Stones left and right, even those who submitted to his power.

Soon after, the Stones agreed to peace with the Bloods, and the Uniter disappeared into the woods, never to be heard from again. It was said he joined up with a group of Tremist who chose to live a simpler life among the trees. It was said his gloves were still out there, waiting to be found by the next person who needed them.

Construction on what would become the Rhadgast sphere began. (Mason was right: half the school was below ground.) The Stones would retain their identities but war no longer. And so it has remained to this day.

But Mason's focus had drifted during the last parts of the lesson.

He couldn't stop thinking about the gloves.

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

“It isn't okay to show that,” Jiric said when the lesson ended and the lights returned. “That is anti-Stone propaganda.”

Broxnar chuckled, rubbing his hands together. “My dear rhadjen. I believe it's called history. You can't know where you're going until you see where you've been.”

“It demonizes the Stones,” Jiric said. “Just because we didn't choose to die.”

Risperdel snorted. “You mean, just because you chose other people to die instead of you.” But she didn't say it with malice, somehow; it was a friendly jibe. Jiric only fluttered his eyes and pretended to ignore her.

Broxnar cleared his throat. “That's enough, Risperdel. As I said, history. I myself made the hard choice. There is no shame in it. Some might argue letting yourself die is the easy way out. The way of not choosing at all.”

Mason hadn't thought of it like that. He didn't really agree, but he could see where Broxnar was coming from. Perhaps the Stone decision isn't any easier than what Mason had done.

A bell chimed.

“That's all,” Broxnar said, tugging on the sash around his waist. “Remember what you saw here today.”

The students left with three minutes to reach their next class. The hallways were full of rhadjen running to and from classrooms. Many of them found the time to stop and gawk or point at Mason and Tom. It was day two, technically their first full day, but the attention was already getting old. They were humans, so what. They were almost the same species. But at the same time, it wasn't as bad as the attention they got at Academy II. Here Mason was an oddity, not a hero.

“So what did you think of our history?” Po said, sidling up to Mason and Tom as they climbed one of the many spiral staircases.

“It was definitely interesting,” Tom said.

“And explains a lot,” Mason said, a little too loudly, though he didn't mean anything by it one way or another. Lore, who was walking just a few paces ahead, turned around to give her seven hundredth glare of the day. Or maybe it was just her sharp eyebrows.

“Yes it does. Hey, listen. Tonight, if you want to have a little fun, meet me outside the Inner Chamber. You, too, Thomas.”

“See?” Tom said. “Even he can call me by my full name. It's not that hard.”

“I'm working on it, Tom,” Mason said.

“So you'll be there?” Po asked. “Great!” he said, before Mason could answer. By then they were already at the next classroom.

Their second teacher, Grubare, wore robes of jade green, no ornamentation, nothing to say whether he was for the Bloods or Stones. His eyes were black as coal, but his hair was silvery-pearl. He watched Mason and Tom as they found empty seats within the room.

On the desk sat a small, monkeylike creature covered in bristly blue fur. It was eating a small chunk of neon-yellow fruit that it turned over and over in its tiny paws. It's head had four eyes instead of two, one in front, in back, and on each side, so it could see 360 degrees. The eyes were sleepy, half-lidded, as it nibbled on the fruit.

“This is going to be amazing,” Jiric said, before Lore hushed him.

“You're right, this is amazing,” Grubare said from the middle of the room. “We're making history, isn't that right? Humans, not only on Skars, but inside our facilities, learning our secrets. It is so
amazing.
”

“I'm sorry, sir,” Jiric said.

“Silence. You're to write an essay about the meaning of the word
amazing
and its relation to the human race. By tomorrow.” Grubare turned his dark gaze upon Mason and Tom. “I have been asked to tolerate you in my classroom. No, I have been ordered to tolerate you. Do not disturb the lesson.”

“We aren't plan—” Mason began.

“You are disturbing it right now.” As if to send the point home, the creature chirped and climbed up Grubare's sleeve to settle on his shoulder. And as soon as it was settled, it popped up and disappeared into a fold inside Grubare's robe. “And you are disturbing my gromsh.”

Gromsh?
“I'm—”

Tom nudged Mason with his elbow, a gesture Mason had learned meant,
Shut it, Stark, if you know what's good for you.
So Mason shut it.

Grubare went on with some lesson about the current socioeconomic climate emerging from the western continent and the impact it would have in trade over the coming decade.

Mason assumed this was some boring economics class (Academy I and II had their fair share of those), but then he heard Po whisper to Risperdel, “Why are we learning economics? We're supposed to go over defensive tactics for zero-gravity battles. We have a test this week.” Mason, having missed the first four weeks of the semester, hoped he and Tom wouldn't have to take it.

Risperdel shrugged, then lifted her chin in Mason and Tom's direction. “Maybe he doesn't want to teach
them.
”