Aether stood within the dining area and used his phone camera to spy on the strange boy. Something churned within his stomach as if a great secret brewed mere meters from him, but what? Had CrazyStrudel infected him with conspiracy theories? Was Janus spying on Dessy, aiming to kidnap Aether’s supposed date? Her messages informed him that she was changing within the dressing room, but could she be in trouble?
Aether clutched his phone’s metal casing, his eyes trusting the instincts that allowed him to survive years of bloodshed on the anarchy planets. Not one movement escaped him—from the way the boy clutched the shopping bag, to the method in which the boy nodded to the cashier, and the subtle fidgeting of the shoulder. Hurried steps revealed hidden insecurities as the boy sauntered past the dressing rooms and to the back of the store.
Aether followed from a distance and ignored a droid’s words, “Your steamed buns!”
Beside the levitation pad located in the far corner, the boy placed his wrist bracelet below the scanner. At the beep, he said, “Floor 229.”
“Unidentified voice.”
Aether raised a brow. Floor 229 was one floor below the StarGroove store and connected to a real estate floor possessing various apartments. So unless the boy happened to live on floor 229, he planned to flee. The scanner’s comment further solidified Aether’s thoughts of the boy being not who he appeared—his voice was disguised somehow.
Aether lowered his body, preparing to dash as he watched the boy manually punch in the floor number. The scanner extended, and its red light brushed over the shopping bag.
“Scanning items... Access granted.”
The white, opaque railing retreated to the side, and the boy stepped onto the levitation pad. It wobbled, but upon steadying, began its slow descent.
Aether waited a moment then sprinted, his large form exiting his hiding spot and scaling the waist-high railing.
Alarms blared; the calm, blue lights turned red while insect-sized drones flooded in from the ceiling. Why StarGroove had such security baffled him, and he brushed it off as some elite’s twisted idea of fun.
Those should be illegal to use against shoplifters, Aether thought.
His feet hit the levitation pad, causing it to shake. The boy had already slipped through the gap between it and the flooring—possibly having done so as soon as the railing hid his head, the same moment Aether began his sprint. The boy ran down the hall.
“Unauthorized access! Levitation Pad R1.”
Aether leapt off the pad and gave chase. As he rounded the corner, he stumbled over a bag of items carefully placed so as to hide them from view. A shirt caught onto Aether’s sabaton, and he crouched to tear it off. Aura infused his person. But perhaps it was the leg armor or his lack of aura control: Aether found himself still slower than the boy, whose speed constantly increased.
Who was this guy? A spy? Was he an aura-breaker or did he possess a support-type weapon?
Doors swung and Aether burst onto the vehicle dock, wind blasting his face. The sound of footsteps rang to the right of him, so he chased as his eyes latched onto a fleeing figure. The docks shook and creaked against the high-rise, the boy turned another corner, and Aether followed.
He froze. Empty.
The path was clear except for the few vehicles moored to its posts. The neighboring building, separated by a skyway alley only two to three vehicles wide, stood quiet and unassuming. No docks extended into the gap, and neither were there skywalks within five stories above and below Aether.
His eyes swept over the parked vehicles and then onto the docks of the neighboring building. There. A few stories down, the boy pressed close to the wall as he traversed the base of a thin dock. He lowered his head and walked at a normal pace to not attract attention.
Aether took three steps back, looked left then right then left, and sprinted. Leaping at the edge, he soared through the airway, and as he descended his eyes met those of the boy’s. Black with a shimmer of excitement. The boy was enjoying himself, but then his eyes fogged like a cloud swallowing the light of a sunny day. A feign of fear; he fled, his composure betraying his guise.
Aether crashed into the dock, legs dangling and arms slipping from its smooth surface. He groaned. What happened to rough, grate docks?
“Encase,” he said, focusing his aura break with his voice instead of his hands. Others with better control or lesser amounts of aura wouldn’t need such an aid, but he, like Umbra, benefited greatly from the mental accentuation.
One of seven shards materialized before him, and it sunk into the metal. Ice expanded and anchored him to the dock, stopping his slide. His arm muscles rippled, and he pulled himself up, dismissing his aura upon clambering to his feet.
Aether charged into the nearest entrance, and he spotted the boy at the end of the hallway. He stood in an elevator; his hand, creating a false sense of panic, repeatedly mashed the button to close the doors. Down, revealed the call button.
Aether entered the stairwell—which happened to be beside him—and gripped the rail. Instead of bounding down the stairs, he jumped and twisted, landing before the next floor entrance. He tried the handle; locked, so he kicked it open.
His phone suddenly vibrated as he dashed into the warehouse, past piles of corrugated metals and to the elevator shaft. Concrete blocked its door, and he rounded it, seeing if the elevator was double-sided.
It wasn’t.
Grinding his teeth, Aether descended another flight of stairs. Blocked. Another, and the elevator stood innocently with its slowly opening doors. Aether’s phone vibrated. He charged inside expecting to see the boy.
No one. Where could he have gone?
A quick scan revealed an askew panel leading into the elevator shaft. Aether jumped, pushing it aside as he grabbed onto the ledge and wedged himself through.
The sound of grating metal—which echoed from a factory floor multiple stories above him—penetrated his ears with a sharp, continual screech. Where was the boy? Aether released waves of aura that undulated through the passage in search of foreign aura.
Nothing. His brows knit. How could that be possible?
Click. The elevator shifted, and he climbed down, eyes widening as he saw half the buttons destroyed and the lowest floor, FL 202, lit. Faint aura covered the panel.
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Curses. It was a trap. The boy had exited the elevator, and Aether hadn’t seen the doors opening but re-opening. The boy, who most likely tried the shaft first, realized that the grating metal would cloak the sound of both closing the elevator doors and destroying the panel.
Well-trained and one of Janus’s goons, Aether thought. It wasn’t common for someone to hide their presence so well that he couldn’t sense them messing with the elevator panel.
Aether sighed and crossed his arms, forfeiting his chase. He could have climbed the shaft, but he decided to instead return to his Ravenbrood and then to his estate where he would see Gen. His lips upturned into a smile; images of her floated in his mind.
His phone vibrated for a third time. There were three messages: two from Dessy, one from Gen. He read Gen’s first, even though it was the most recent message received.
Gen: A bit. And, man, remind me next time to place bags within Sexy. The jerk I called friend barfed all over it. Gonna be late. Hope you don’t mind, Boss.
Dessy: I’m all done! But where are you, dear? Oh, right, I haven’t told Gen about Ascending yet. Didn’t want her to worry.
Dessy: Did you leave Ascending alone? I can’t believe you! Where are you?
Another message arrived.
Dessy: That’s it! I’m leaving, and I don’t care if your grandmother is the empress dowager, I’m not meeting her. And don’t search for me. I’m going on a teacher’s retreat after our horrible date. I can’t believe I did this for Gen. You owe me three more dates! High-end places only. You pay.
Aether rubbed his temples, head spinning at the most recent message. It didn’t sound like Dessy... What happened to her boldness to tease him? And her subtle elegance?
He felt his body loosen and relax. With her gone, he didn’t need to worry about the passion she instilled within him. He could focus all his attention on Gen.
The elevator dinged, and a busy foyer greeted Aether. No one entered his elevator; instead, they either took the one beside him or entered the stairway, traveling to the lower floors and returning home after a long day. Exhaustion tainted each of their expressions.
Aether stepped onto the traffic pier, which glowing lamps lit up as if it were day. Unlike a car dock, no one parked at the pier, and the vehicles came and went, dropping off passengers who then traveled by foot and over skywalks to their destinations.
The fixture jutted into the wide-open airway and expanded into a large circular platform. Food stalls, still opened, surrounded a central landing base for flying pods—another name for buses—and Sparrow drivers. In a steady stream the vehicles would arrive for passengers throughout the night, traffic slowing near 2am but returning to congestion by 5am. Sometimes the driver slept as the AI drove, even though it was Compass law to always have a conscious driver.
As Aether approached the loading site, a mob of people marched about the pier, holding neon, metal sign boards that bore pictures of sliding doors and spoons.
His lips pulled into a slight frown. Though common on North Star, protests like these were rare on South Star because the planet was much more militaristic than the other Compass planets. Here the common person spent their time arguing over equality between them and veterans who had received exorbitant benefits upon retirement.
It further disturbed him that they would protest long after sunset. What could be so important?
“Wooden spoons! Wooden spoons! We want wooden spoons!” a woman bellowed, leading the other protesters. Spit flew from her fat lips. “No more metallic soup! No more icky congee! No more leaching metal! We want wooden spoons!”
Aether’s frown deepened. Were wooden spoons illegal? Wooden furniture filled his estate, so was it just the spoons?
“And elevator doors! Elevator doors!” another woman yelled, but the wooden spoon protesters drowned out the cries of her and her followers. “No more broken noses! No more being pushed down stairs! We want elevator doors!”
Elevator doors? As in sliding doors?
The wooden spoon leader pivoted, spinning on her heels like a battle-hardened knight. “Get out of here! We want the legalization of wooden spoons! Not freakin’ elevator doors.”
“Wooden spoons!”
“Elevator doors!”
“Wooden spoons!”
This madness, Aether shook his head, judging the elites of the Compass Constellation for banning wooden spoons of all things tradable.
The wooden spoon leader’s eyes met his; they blazed with determination.
“You! How dare you shake your head?”
Incited, the protesters encircled him, and Aether held his hands before his torso, ready to defend himself if need be. He said words to pacify them, which he also believed, “Wooden spoons should be legalized. The elites are crazy.”
“Exactly!” The leader raised her sign board. “That’s why we’re petitioning for the legalization of wooden spoons.”
“And elevator doors!”
“Shut up,” she growled before facing Aether. “Sir Aura Knight—you are an aura knight, aren’t you?—we need your help. We must stop this madness!” She yelled to her followers, “What do we want?”
“Wooden spoons!” their words drowned out the sparse, “Elevator doors.”
“So who do we want?”
“Star Prince Janus!”
Aether pursed his lips. How did Janus relate to wooden spoons?
“Who do we hate?”
“Star Prince Aether!”
Did Janus hire astroturfers? Aether narrowed his eyes, sensing the true gravity of the protests. South Star was his base planet, the one planet that wholeheartedly supported him. With these protests... Was Janus not satisfied with having East Star, West Star, and Planet Name? Maybe his cousin had something to do with his failed negotiations at North Star.
The hairs on the back of his neck rose; Aether sensed a rapidly escalating undercurrent. If he considered the recent gala attack, it seemed his uncle and Janus were ready to uproot him. But it seemed too early for them to do so. Had they grown careless and overly ambitious?
“What do we yell?” The leader opened her mouth, waking Aether from his ponderings.
“Wooden spoons! Wooden spoons! We want wooden spoons! No more metallic soup! No more icky congee! No more leaching metal! We want wooden spoons!”
Aether asked her, “Excuse me, why Star Prince Janus and not Star Prince Aether?”
She scoffed at him and flared her nostrils. Tilting her head like a veteran aura knight who had slaughtered monsters with her bare hands, she said, “Tell him.”
With gusto, her followers lifted their sign boards and chanted: “Star Prince Aether, raised with a wooden spoon, knows nothing, knows nothing. Star Prince Janus, raised with a metal spoon, knows our hearts, knows our hearts.”
Excited, the protesters drifted away from him and continued marching in beat with their odd chants. Their leader then wished Aether a good night and joined her followers.
“Wooden spoons! Wooden spoons...”
An expensive flying car flew above them—Gen would have known the make and model. Its speakers buzzed then blasted the words: “You lowlifes can’t afford wood!”
“Get him!” someone yelled.
A metal sign arced through the air, its edge hitting the vehicle’s window and cracking it.
“AHHH!” screamed the driver. Aether’s eyes widened as more signs soared. The AI quickly maneuvered the vehicle from the pier.
The protesters chanted in victory, “Wooden spoons! Wooden spoons! Wooden spoons!”
“And elevator doors!” someone added.
A watching pedestrian asked, “Are wooden spoons worth it to attack some rich kid?”
They glared at him and announced in unison, “Everybody loves wooden spoons!”
Is that so? Aether tilted his head and released a low hum. Maybe he should gift Gen a wooden spoon.
————
Eventually a Sparrow brought Aether to his vehicle—thankfully Ascending was still safely inside the Ravenbrood. During the journey home, his mind churned with ideas, and he prepared a medic for Ascending then scheduled an emergency meeting for 11pm.
This meeting, pertaining to the Compass Constellation’s various powers, was held promptly not because it was time sensitive, but because Aether missed Gen and didn’t want to wait until sunrise.
As the time slowly passed, Aether sent a short notice to Drake and Joule, telling them to arrive early. He wished to organize a smuggling operation. It sounded stupid to his own ears, but Aether would smuggle anything for his love, even if it was a wooden spoon.