Grand Master Hexa-ka Moonlight regarded her class from afar with professional interest. They were engaged in something that had always been very dear to her heart: Tracking.
Of Dakotan Indian descent, she had grown up in the Swan Lake area of Manitoba, Canada. Indeed, many of her family still lived on the Reserve there, proud bearers of a noble and prolific heritage.
Her own name, Hexa-ka—Hexa for short—was Dakotan for deer, an apt title in her case. Even as a child she was fleet of foot and would run like the wind over most terrains. And no matter how fast she ran, Hexa could still track better than anyone else she knew. What’s more, she was always able to find her way home, regardless of the distance involved or how dark it was.
In the days leading up to her twelfth birthday, Hexa’s family finally discovered why it was their child was so gifted. That’s when puberty hit and her underlying supernatural abilities had manifested.
As Hexa was delighted to discover, she was highly telepathic. Powerful in all the ultrasenses, she was also telekinetic and capable of generating shield bubbles of impressive integrity. Best of all—in her opinion—she could manipulate the visible light spectrum in startling, yet wondrous ways.
Indeed, as her gifts blossomed, people from her tribe would often see her sprinting through the forests surrounding the reservation at breakneck speed. Always laughing and sparkling like a bejeweled rainbow, she was looked upon as a good omen, for her kinfolk’s legends were brimming with detailed stories regarding the life and times of mystical characters called Sun and Moon and Falling-Star.
It was inevitable that her talents would one day attract the attention of those outside her community, and for a while, it was necessary to hide what she could do. Fortunately, her expansion into metapsychic infancy—some fifty summers previously—had come to the notice of another group of mystical characters. And now, Hexa’s life was devoted to serving others, and helping them discover the delights their abilities could bring.
Rising to the rank of Grand Master, Hexa had never lost those skills, honed during her informative years. And just as well, for the Guardians not only ensured their members were as thoroughly trained as possible—both physically and psychically—but prepared to face any dilemma, no matter the environment or conditions they found themselves in.
Earlier that morning, Hexa had dispatched a small group of fifth year students into the boulder-strewn valleys close to the Florey Basin. Situated a few miles west of the Training Academy, it was her favorite site for what had become known as, the “Rapid Ravine Race,” the culminating exercise that would determine who had the right mettle to face the final trials.
Though some looked on the race as nothing more than glorified orienteering without a compass, Hexa knew better. Those in her care had to be stretched. Their ingenuity, courage and stamina needed to be tested under stress conditions.
So, as was her custom, she had left a number of increasingly difficult trails—twelve in all—across the lunar landscape. The class was then divided into teams and allocated diminishing windows of time to track her footprints or markers, retrieve a hidden object and complete an emergency related exercise, before returning to a designated RV point.
While most of the undergraduates were able to generate a barrier of sufficient strength to protect themselves from the effects of the surrounding vacuum, she’d seen to it that they carried supplementary protection by way of belt-mounted mitigators.
Prevention was better than cure. And though her training methods were unusual, Hexa’s safety record was second to none.
This particular group had done well. Better than any other class before them. As such, Hexa decided to make the afternoon phase more difficult by retracing her steps over the last three stages. Instead of the wide open vista of the Florey basin, the teams would now be traversing the rugged canyons close to the Moon’s magnetic north pole.
In an effort to confuse them even further, Hexa added a little surprise to the final leg of their journey: an additional seven mile hike, leading everyone back to her current location at a spot just beyond the Academy’s perimeter.
She was understandably keen to see how these students would react to the change in circumstances and distance.
And she hadn’t been disappointed.
Hexa observed the candidates with her farsight as each respective group had reached the twelfth checkpoint thinking they could take a break, only to discover the trail continued along an unexpected path. Commendably, the majority immediately followed the fresher tracks, obviously remembering their instructor was well known for pulling such stunts.
Only two teams had vacillated.
Checking back along their presumed return route, they travelled for nearly a mile before realizing their error. Needless to say, they had expended themselves mightily since then, getting back on course.
Hexa watched closely as all five groups approached, less than three minutes apart. The last two teams had made up for lost time admirably and were sweating heavily for their efforts. As usual, residue from the lunar surface caked their uniforms in an ashlike film. It always amazed her how the damned stuff managed to filter through mechanically generated screens. But at least it was entertaining. The powdery soil made everyone look like aboriginal hunters engaged on a dream-quest.
Laughing to herself, she mused. That’ll teach them!
Though she basked in the satisfaction of catching yet another intake on the hop, she was only too ready to give credit where it was due. This bunch—due to graduate next month—had been a pleasure to teach.
As the first pair jogged in with team two hot on their heels, she began handing out bottles of water so they would be able to wash the dust from their parched throats. Speaking telepathically because of the vacuum, she called: Well done! Take a break over there by the auxiliary power relay station and check your dosimeter readings while we wait for the others to arrive.
She started to relax a little. Competent they may be, but until they graduated, these students were her responsibility. And being out and about in one of the harshest environments in existence always put her on edge. Not that there was much chance of anything happening this close to the environs of the Academy, for the entire complex was protected by a triple-tiered Recognition and Response—RoaR System—a much larger adaptation of the Automatic Targeting Recognition—ATR—hardware fitted on board their orbital stations.
The inner vector field was comprised of a hard barrier, and was always operational. It not only formed an impervious but transparent line of defense against solar radiation and meteoroids, but it also confined the air bubble to a specific one hundred-foot radius from the farthest reaches of the base.
Above that, the outer screen—set to a maximum altitude of one nautical mile—was also invisible. However, this layer operated under the strictures of oscillating pulse frequencies. Emitted by an aggressive AI awareness package, those waves were capable of identifying unknown threats within a fraction of a second. If a danger was detected, the barrier would transmute into a viscous medium, tagging the objective of interest whilst simultaneously triggering the intermediate buffer.
Once activated, the median force field would deliver a psitronically amplified psychoenergetic shock, thereby neutralizing the indicated target, be it technological or biological in nature.
Hexa’s third team was only a hundred yards out when the defensive screens blazed to life. Her hand automatically twitched toward her baton as she dropped into a crouch and spun on her heel, seeking out the extent of the danger. She was distracted from her task by a sudden tightness in her extremities. Glancing down, she was alarmed to see her fingers swelling before her eyes. She froze, and was slammed into the dirt, the force of the impact knocking the air from her lungs.
The facility’s vector field went to work; delivering a stunning wallop to whatever it was it had latched onto. Before she could attempt to farscan what that hazard might be, plasmic tendrils arced down from the dome and struck her in the chest.
Taken by surprise for a second time, she allowed the static spillover to snap and crackle across the surface of her uniform several times before bringing it under control.
Too late!
The static charge grounded, rendering her momentarily senseless.
When she came to, Hexa found herself gulping like a fish out of water. Her heart pounded in her chest, demanding oxygen from lungs that refused to inflate properly. Damn, it feels as if I’m going to explode!
A tremor rolled through the strata beneath her feet. She tensed, expecting another shockwave . . .
It never came. So what in the . . .?
That’s when she noticed her students choking and clutching at their throats. Until some thought to employ their own talents. Those who did quickly recovered.
A rather large penny dropped!
The potency of the safeguards—amplified by psitronic energy—had overloaded the personal mitigators they were wearing.
As swiftly as she could, Hexa reached out toward the remaining three teams who had not yet returned: RAISE SHIELDS! RAISE SHIELDS! THE DEFENSIVE PROTOCOLS HAVE SHORTED OUT THE MITIGATORS. RAISE YOUR SHIELDS NOW OTHERWISE YOU’LL PASS OUT AND SUFFOCATE!
Turning back toward the base, she then activated her locator beacon and calmly announced: Emergency Standby Squads, this is Grand Master Hexa-ka Moonlight. I am at reference twelve alpha zero, by one beta one with a class of ten souls. Please home in on my signal. We may have casualties needing attention.
The space in front of her contorted. Stepping smartly to one side, Hexa was treated to the astonishing sight of Team Three—comprised of Robin Johns and Emma Boucher—who were each assisting a pair of candidates from the final two groups.
Both Robin and Emma were very strong natural shielders. Emma also possessed Grand Master ranking hyperspatial translation abilities. Having been a paramedic before entering the Guardians program, Emma was accustomed to keeping her head in a crisis. It was evident she had been able to quickly determine the peril.
Hexa’s suspicions were soon confirmed. As Emma deposited her classmates on a large roll-out survival blanket, she paused to pass a brief update to her instructor:
Because they were farther away from the pulse generators, Robin and Emma had time to employ their own defenses before their mitigators shorted out. Reacting instinctively, they went on to make an accurate assessment of the threat level, and prioritized who might need help first. Emma then teleported them both out to Team Four. Dropping Robin off there to care for their fellow students, she immediately jumped again, this time to where Team Five were fighting off the effects of asphyxiation.
Snatching them free of the vacuum, Emma had then leapfrogged back through Robin’s position, before unceremoniously dumping everyone at the feet of their tutor.
Impressed, Hexa watched as Emma administered first aid to her stricken colleagues in a clam and professional manner. Even when the Emergency Standby Squad arrived, she didn’t let up, and began issuing a detailed précis to the healers of who was suffering from what malady. That girl has one hell of a positive attitude. It won’t be long before she gets a command of her own!
Catching the Squad Leader’s attention, Hexa snapped: What the hell happened? My students were nearly caught on the back foot out there.
Guardian Master Mark Smith raised his hands in defeat: Your guess is as good as mine, Hexa. One moment it was as quiet as a death wake in a morgue, and then all hell broke loose. Next thing I know, the Shadow Lord turns up—literally within a few heartbeats of the alarm activating—with the Lord Inquisitor close behind! From what I was told, they politely insisted the Special Protection Group “get lost,” and began mooching around all by themselves. I’m talking with Tamari now on another psi-channel. Nobody seems to have any idea what’s going on.
Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
I’m sure we’ll find out what we need to know in due course. In any event, thanks for getting here so quickly. That was too close for comfort. If not for Emma and Robin, I think you’d have had far worse to deal with.
The Guardian Master grinned: That’s the great thing about fifth year students. They’re almost ready to be unleashed, and are easier to look after . . . Or so I’m told!
Flipping a thumbs-up, he jumped his squad away and Hexa got to work, helping to prepare the casualties for the brief hop back to the medical wing.
She’d been lucky. Only three of her students had ruptured capillaries about their sclera from the sudden pressure variance brought on by the collapse of the mitigator shields. Two were suffering from hypothermia, and one had a mild case of flash-freeze frostbite. It could have been much worse.
Yes, that was a close call. Though God only knows how I’m going to explain all this to Lord Marshal Suresh!
*
Andrew exited the gray limbo of hyperspace—mind blazing, fired up and ready for battle—and crashed into the lunar surface. The ground shook under an assault releasing the energy of a Grade 2 moonquake.
Lightning played across his visage, a sure sign of kill lust. Only five seconds had passed since the alarm’s activation, and he was confident their prize would still be nearby.
He spotted the quavering green halo of the tag a thousand yards up, and was reminded of a miniature Aurora Borealis. Leaping to its location, he immediately set to, separating the exuberance unleashed by the defensive discharge from the esoteric vibrations still throbbing wanly in the ether. Ah bugger!
Then Victoria arrived.
As she materialized, his sister released a psychic pulse designed to pursue and paralyze a very specific target within a ten mile radius. Her task complete, she screamed toward her brother like a meteor, only pulling up with scant inches to spare: What’s cooking?
Completing his manipulations of the rarified medium, Andrew replied: I’m just about to find out. Although I’ve got a feeling we already know what it’s going to say.
A few seconds later, he had his answer and enlarged the info-packet for ease of examination.
Before they could delve into its contents, a full contingent from the Special Protection Group jumped into the location. Arrayed in tactical formation, their shields and batons were fully charged and deployed.
The team leader, High Grand Master Designate Tamari Singh seemed surprised to find the two Lords already in attendance: Sir! Ma’am! Do you wish for me to take over? This is what we’re here for.
Andrew made haste to conceal what he had uncovered, while Victoria turned to their subordinate and replied: Thank you, Tamari, but we’ll be handling this . . . Alone. You can all go now.
If she was offended by the bluntness of the dismissal, Tamari didn’t show it. Saluting, she signaled for her team to leave and, after they had departed, inspected the area herself. Apparently satisfied there were no further threats to worry about, she too disappeared without a word.
Once they were alone again, Andrew gravitated toward to his sister and projected the results of his preliminary investigation in the void between them: Take a look at this.
Victoria digested the data and read the AI’s tag-log herself. Well, screw me blind! It actually worked. Do you see? It recognized the binary helix and generated sufficient wattage to almost capture our intruder.
Almost being the point! Andrew replied sourly: They’re obviously stronger than we thought, and are still employing an amazingly sophisticated means of escape. A pyramid pod of all things. But now we know, we can adjust the protocols and zap them as soon as they dare make another appearance. A calculating look tightened his features: I think I may have a little surprise cooked up by the time they come calling again.
You think they’ll be back?
Remember who we’re dealing with. They didn’t get what they were after, so yes. They’ll be back . . . eventually.
Sound reasoning, I suppose. Victoria edged closer: So, can you tell who it was?
Deftly completing his manipulations, Andrew replied: Hang on. . .
. . . Yup! Here we go! It was Ares. And if what I’m reading here is correct, he only just managed to escape. Goddammit!
Why do you think he was here? Victoria mused, scoping the base far below and then focusing on their assets in high orbit: You don’t think he was poking around the hyper-jump gate do you? It’s almost completed now and security is tight. If they managed to sabotage it, it would set our colonization schedules back for years.
Andrew’s expression mirrored that of his twin: I don’t know, Vic. That would be too obvious. . .
He had a thought: Hey, what about their hosts? They’ve been our patients now for over five years and are only just coming out of their comas. Who knows what their reintegrated memories will be able to tell us?
Victoria met her brother’s scrutiny, her countenance an open book. Her gaze portrayed the mantra they knew so well: Prepare for every eventuality—even those nobody has thought of yet. Aloud, she said: So! How do we prepare for the unexpected?
Andrew chewed his lip for a moment and received a healthy dose of welcome inspiration: Where’s father? I’ve just had a brainwave!
This near to completing his preparations, I’ll give you one guess. Why?
I think we’re definitely going to need his help on this.
Victoria’s eyes glowed warmly: What have you thought of? C’mon, spill!
Andrew didn’t reply immediately, and smiled when his sister began skimming the various facets of his aura expertly as each part of a foolproof plan fell into place. But he wasn’t surprised. Born of a very special union—and only one minute apart—they shared a symbiotic behavioral mindset unlike anything or anyone else under creation.
Somehow, she managed to contain her excitement until he’d finished.
Ushering her closer, Andrew explained his reckoning process: Would you agree that, if we adjusted the output of the psitronic crystal, it should boost the defenses enough to easily hold Psi-edon and his cohorts in check, yes?
Yeeees, go on.
Even so, that option is only viable for the Headquarters environs. It won’t do any of the orbital stations, ships, or Earth-bound facilities any long-term good will it?
Of course not. If we expanded its active field too far, it would directly impact our ability to function as an organization. Where are you going with this?
Andrew flashed his eyebrows: I was thinking. Seeing as the crystal is so big, what if we excised some of its smaller nodules—just a dozen or so—and shaved them into flecks? That way, we’d have thousands of options to play with. And while they’ll be nowhere near as strong as the mother lode, it would still extend our reach, especially if we get father’s help in splicing some of those flecks with mineral samples from the stratum outside the Reflection Chamber!
The light in Victoria’s eyes grew more intense: But . . . but that would . . .
Precisely! The crystal would enhance the suppressant qualities of the moon rock and nullify the rebels’ potential for long enough to allow us to get our hands on them.
Without warning, Andrew found himself on the receiving end of a sisterly bear hug. A bear hug that made no attempt to spare his blushes. Victoria crowed: And the great thing is, if we scatter the samples strategically, we’d be able to protect our most important facilities, no matter how spread out they are. Wow! Talk about, ‘surprise suckers!’ Brilliant!
But Andrew hadn’t finished. Wriggling to escape Victoria’s clutches, he continued: If you think that’s worthy of getting all girly-whirly about, I dread to think what you’ll do when you hear my thoughts about negating the effects of their pyramid escape pods as well.
Negate? What do you mean by . . . negate?
Well, as you know, once initiated, the escape pod generates two hyperspace windows. One real and the other bogus! In turn, that pairing spawns four gates; then eight; then sixteen, and so on and so forth. The more powerful the originating threshold, the more false trails they’re capable of leaving. Even the weaker ones make distinguishing the correct path extremely difficult.
Yes, I understand. So?
Sooo, if we could rig something up that either marked the real route from the word go, or corrupted it . . . Andrew clenched his fist for emphasis: they’d fall right into our trap! With father’s know-how, we might even be able to influence the final materialization point so it steers them to a location of our choosing.
A smell of ozone predominated as a spark jumped between their respective shield bubbles. Victoria released her grip and shook her head in wonder: Andy. If you could do that, I would be super-uber impressed.
Unable to resist the opening, he replied: Well, as firstborn it comes naturally. Pity you popped out second, otherwise you’d have been the one unfairly blessed with a vastly superior intellect and astonishing good looks.
Victoria snorted and punched him on the arm: Then I’d better shepherd my limited brain cells into doing something useful. Stand out of the way while I update father.
Andrew winced and rubbed his bicep: Bloody hell! Have you put on weight?
Ignoring the jibe, Victoria gave herself room to maneuver and became encompassed within a sizzling astral corona. Compressing her will into a single coherent thought-package, she sent it caroming away into the vast reaches of space.
Though he tried to relax, Andrew wasn’t happy. A nagging feeling he was missing something—something obvious—continued to plague him. He tried to imagine their predicament from another perspective. If I was out to get one over on us, what would I target first? What’s here on Moon Base that could be so important?
A few moments later, his jaw dropped open. No way!
Ending her call, Victoria caught the expression on her brother’s face: Ah-ha! There’s the witless caveman I know so well. What made you revert back to your normal hit everything with a club persona?
He was too shocked to enjoy the dig: Sis, what if they were after the crystal itself?
Her mood sobered instantly.
Andrew rushed to expand on his remark: Remember? At the time, Hestia was second only to father in her understanding and use of a psitronic crystal. She maintained the Flame! Just imagine what she could do if she got her hands on this new one! It’s way more powerful than the Source that protected old Kalliste.
As they reminisced on ancient history, brother and sister regarded each other closely. Then the corner of Victoria’s lips lifted into a crafty sneer: Unless we make it easy for them.
Now it was Andrew’s turn to bite on the hook: Easy for them? How?
I was thinking . . . why don’t provide them with enough rope so that they get a bit careless and go and hang themselves.
As in a trap?
More like a spider’s web. We’ve waited so long for them to slip up, it would be a pity to waste another golden opportunity. Obviously, we’ll need to plan things accordingly.
Andrew was struck by something his sister had just said: Yes, they have been quiet. Too quiet. It’s been what, more than five years?
Victoria appeared puzzled by his line of reasoning: So what? After what father did to them, they’re used to being patient.
That’s just it, Sis. We’ve been waiting so long for them to try anything, it felt as if they’d dropped off the face of the Earth. They probably thought we’d become complacent. And now they’ve had their knuckles rapped, it’ll show we haven’t forgotten about them at all. They’ll tread very carefully from—
So we’ll just have to give them an incentive to place the noose around their own necks, wont we? Victoria interjected: Like I said. Patient they may be, but they’re clearly up to something. If we can get an inkling of what that is, we can incorporate your ideas regarding the psitronic crystal and moon rock into our plans to make sure whatever trap we lay out has a nice juicy fly to bait them.
Nodding in agreement, Andrew replied: I suppose you’re right. I’d just like to know why they left it so long to try anything. I mean—it’s not like they’ve had much to keep them occupied since their escape, wouldn’t you say?
*
Harry Johnson exited his final escape nexus with a profound sense of relief. Jesus, that was too close for comfort! How did they discover me so quickly? I wasn’t emitting anything hard, probing aggressively or being confrontational. And because I was in human guise, the only thing I was intent on doing was remaining mute and invisible. So how did . . .?
Stilling his palpitating heart, he reviewed the events leading up to his near capture in his mind.
To no avail.
I’ll have to go slower. It’s vital I understand what happened.
On this occasion, he spent considerable effort dissecting each facet governing the shield’s activation, and especially on the energy he’d been forced to expend in order to escape. Concentrating on the exact moment the net had closed about him, he froze the replay and jumped each micro-frame backward and forward repeatedly until he found what he was looking for. What the devil? Oh, you sneaky bastards!
The warrior side of his nature didn’t know whether to be elated by his discovery; impressed by the finesse of the measures the Guardians used to protect their facility; or horrified by its seemingly boundless capacity.
In any event, he was forced to concede he’d neglected to plan for an obvious eventuality. I should have realized! Those damned fools notified Yeung over five years ago that they’d recovered his former employees from Antarctica. Bound as they were within our old forms, they were transferred to the hospital wing of the new Academy. It would seem our friends have been busy since then.
Cogitating deeply on where his former body—and those belonging to his fellow rebels—now resided, he had an epiphany. Of course! They would have used them as a template from which to reverse engineer a copy of our psidetic and biometric signatures. Like us, they’re unique. I’ll bet our spliced images were entered into the AI’s mainframe the instant they found out. Damn! That’s going to make it difficult to get the intel we need for the next phase of the plan.
After mulling things over for a while, he brightened considerably. Unless we drop some breadcrumbs, here and there, to make it appear they were the target and that we are actually trying to reclaim our bodies? Now that could work, especially if we also add an additional psychic layer to our signatures. Even better, we could use some of Esther’s toys to create false readings. Or both!
His more positive frame of mind was snuffed from existence when he remembered he would still have to account for his failed intelligence gathering mission. At least my nosing around revealed how far their defensive measures have progressed. A little stronger and they’d have had me. Lucky for us they don’t know how much feeding we’ve done since our escape, nor the work we’ve accomplished.
Shaking his head, he steeled himself for the ordeal ahead. Positives aside, he was still going to get it in the neck. Ah well, forewarned is forearmed. I’d better get back and face the inevitable music.
And with that, he restored his shield, created an appropriate gateway, and squeezed himself into a sluggish tributary of the nearest macrospatial conduit.
Travelling in such a manner would extend a supposedly instantaneous journey through hyperspace across twenty, sanity twisting, spine-jarring seconds. But it was worth it, for he would be safe from prying eyes and the fatal consequences of being caught by a relentless foe.
The things we do to stay under the radar.