Several hects later and with lights out fast approaching, Lindil limped down the hallway to Gavit, Arion, Matt, and Bichard’s room. Dressed in a hospital gown, she felt the eyes of too many cadets watch her. However, a single hard look sent them scurrying away. She was a Tomeris woman on a mission and despite her injuries; she wasn’t going to let Gavit out of their date.

  She kept her micomm off, not wanting anyone to come after her. It had taken long enough to ask Gavit out in the first place, her, a Tomeris woman. She couldn’t believe that she’d had had a hard time approaching Gavit about this. Still, she did ask several cycles before and he agreed. So mission or not, injury or not, she wasn’t going to miss this.

  She rapped on the door when she reached it and Gavit answered, already in his shorts and t-shirt, ready for bed. He looked her up and down, concern etching itself across his face and he stepped out into the hallway. “Lindil what in Drig’s name are you doing here? You should be in medical!”

  Lindil stood eye to eye with him. “I be fine, doctors be patching me up hects ago, but I be having a date to keep.”

  “We can reschedule Lindil. Let’s get you back to medical.”

  She pushed him away as he approached and in the process stepped back against the doorway opposite Gavit’s. “No I be wanting this for too long,” she declared, pulling a lock decoder from the pocket of her medical gown.

  Gavit watched as she slapped it against the door’s lock and activated it. The door opened a few centipulses later. The room was unoccupied after half its occupants had dropped out and the others had been reassigned.

  “I be fine, now come over here,” she ordered, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him in close. She kissed him long and hard before forcing him into the empty room. Despite her injuries and Gavit’s initial worry, she proved herself more than capable, taking what she desired from him. By the time she’d finished, she’d left him gasping and spent from the intensity of her passion.

  UCSB DATE: 1002.381

  Main Library, UCSBA-13, Star System: Classified

  In this academy it was nearly impossible to find a quiet place to collect one’s thoughts without crossing the deep ruts to the farms or suiting up and heading outside. Even though they were on break, Blazer’s study group were working in their room. The medical lounge, reserved for medical corps cadets only, was too sterile. The pilot’s lounge was a non-starter, as too many pilots crowded it in their sweat-soaked flight gear. Mendrick’s was right out as well, far too crowded and loud. Marda found her sanctuary in a little-used back corner of the library, the section for classical literature.

  The academy’s primary focus was on Special Operations and flight training. This left study of the fine arts to go by the wayside. As a result, few, if any, ever occupied this part. Marda had found it early in her first annura and had adopted it as her home away from the dorm. Actual leather bound paper books filled the ranks of shelves, a rarity at any deep space facility. Large plush chairs were scattered between the shelves. Most appealing of all to Marda was the fact that the area felt alive. It wasn’t just another prefab room in which to sit; it was comfortable and reminded her of home.

  Upon arrival, Marda perused the bookshelves before the orb of an aged librarian came up to her and pointed out a thick leatherbound volume on the shelf. She flipped through the book, examining the contents. Nodding to the spirit, she backed her way into one of the plush chairs.

  Marda felt it envelop her, its soft folds tempting her with asleep, but she’d come here to lose herself in a book. Allowing herself to relax, Marda cracked the book open and started reading. She immersed herself in the words, letting the writer’s vision entice her senses. She soon lost track of all time and space as she read, oblivious to the world around her.

  Marda heard another cadet enter the reading area, but didn’t look up from her book. She listened while the newcomer selected a book of their and take the next seat. The other cadet sat reading it in silence, obviously not looking for conversation any more than Marda was.

  Something soon compelled her to speak. “Too sing-songy for my tastes.”

  At first Marda hadn’t realized that the commented was directed at her. When she did a few moments later she looked up. Setting her book down she looked at the young woman across from her. “Oh, Alieha, hey. What was that you said?”

  Alieha tapped her book of Acklid folk tales. “Just that the Drashig epics are two sing-songy for my tastes. I prefer something a bit less operatic.”

  “Well it is a bit poetic and songlike, but that’s only because the Drashig used to sing everything. They passed their history down through word of mouth and song. It wasn’t until their industrial revolution that they committed the old tales to paper.” She relished this rare opportunity to have an actual intellectual discussion of literature and not academy or military matters.

  Alieha shrugged; showed Marda the picture of the Arachnid author on the back cover of the book. “True, but I’ll take my Acklid poetry and folktales any cycle.”

  Marda shivered as she looked into the cold multifaceted eyes of the alien author on the book cover. Its appearance seemed even more alien to her than Bichard’s, in spite of having met several of them in the past. “I don’t know. Acklid writing is interesting, but they never describe their homeworld, they always just kind of dance around it. I mean, they never compare it to other worlds, no mention of flora or fauna. It’s all so cold and mechanical.”

  “From what I understand it’s a pretty sensitive subject for them. They left their homeworld so long ago that no Confed member race even knows where it is, or why they left it. They’ve never claimed any worlds, just their massive space stations and city ships.”

  Marda closed her book. “True, so what brings you back here?”

  “Just trying to get away for a little while; probably for the same reason as you,” Alieha replied in that mimicry smile of hers.

  “Same reason, but for different motives,” Marda replied and was at once reminded of how she felt something odd about the woman sitting across from her. It wasn’t that she disliked her. She enjoyed her company, and what she was doing for Arion. It was just that she felt as of Alieha wasn’t quite all there; incomplete almost.

  It wasn’t even that she couldn’t read her aura. Marda had encountered many people and aliens before whose auras were hidden to her. It was something else, and Marda just couldn’t rationalize it. It made Marda distrust her a little. Is she holding something back? Some secret that she was unwilling to share? In spite of that this pleasant non-school related conversation was really enjoyable and she relaxed, sinking further into the cushions.

  “I just needed some me time you know? Blazer has his study group over so we can’t do anything right now anyway.”

  “Have you and Blazer ever discussed having children?” Alieha asked.

  That came out of nowhere! Is it because we’re married? Marda nodded. “Yes, we do want a family. I think Blazer will be a great Dad. What about you? Are you thinking about talking family with Arion? Are you guys that serious?”

  Alieha rested her hand on her own stomach and looked away for a moment. “Unfortunately that can’t happen. I’m unable to bear children; wasn’t built that way.”

  Marda turned guilty eyes to her own belly, hoping she hadn’t offended her too much. “I’m sorry.” Could that be why she feels off to me? Am I somehow able to tell that she’s sterile? It makes sense, but...

  “Don’t be. I’m not. I’m not really the motherly type. My sister is though. She became a missionary and works in an orphanage because she can’t get enough of them.”

  Marda’s thoughts drifted to her husband. Blazer had been lucky enough to be taken in by family. “This war has produced an awful lot of orphans. You know I don’t think I’ve ever heard you mention your family before. Is it a big one?” I don’t think she’s ever been open like this to me, or any of the team besides Arion. I like it. I hope she feels comfortable enough to talk to all of us in the future like this.

  “Very,” she said with a laugh. “One older sister and five other identical sisters.”

  “Sextuplets?!”

  “That’s the way we started. One of us, well she didn’t make it. She had neurological issues and didn’t last a tridec,” she commented, turning away for just a moment.

  “I’m so sorry,” Marda replied, imagining the poor child and what it must be like to lose one so young.

  “The rest of us turned out okay though. Except by the way we dress and act, no one can tell us apart. We were all made from the same mold so to speak. What about you?”

  “I’m the oldest of six, two brothers, twins, little Sheol raisers, and three sisters.”

  “I don’t have any brothers, just my sister. I don’t get to see them too often, especially the one.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Well we live all over. My older sister, she’s an independent cargo pilot, does business right up to the border. I hope she watches out for herself. One sister works in the orphanage. One works for my uncle as a scientist, one is a businesswoman. The other, well she used to work with my older sister, but she turned pirate. We haven’t heard from her since.”

  Ouch, that must be a sore subject, but what makes someone decide to take that path? Best not to ask right now. “That’s terrible, how did your parents take it?”

  “They didn’t live long enough to find out. I don’t even remember them really, except from what my older sister remembered to us.”

  “Wow, I’m really sorry Alieha. I didn’t know that you were an orphan too.”

  “Don’t be. My uncle ended up raising us and teaching us all we needed to know, so it’s all good.” They sat in comfortable silence. Alieha’s gaze turned serious and she looked at Marda. “You’re a Messiahist right?”

  Marda nodded. Likes to change conversational themes on the fly this one does.

  “Well Arion’s a Drigist, and well, I don’t follow any religion. When I ask him about a certain subject, he always changes the topic or has to leave.”

  “What subject?”

  “Souls, and implants. See, I’ve got some, let’s say, nonstandard parts. I know Drigists have a thing about that.”

  Marda nodded, remembering something Bichard had told her before about Alieha’s artificial liver. “That part of their belief is based on an out of context quote about a man with an artificial leg. But Arion doesn’t adhere to that part of his religion, trust me. If you have an artificial organ, he really won’t care.”

  Alieha breathed a sigh of relief. “Good, but what about souls? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Arion hates to talk about that. I’ve always wondered about them, been curious what they are. It’s always been a weird subject in my family, especially for my sister who runs the orphanage.”

  Must be a family thing that they don’t discuss it, especially if their uncle is an atheist. Still, he would have at least spoken about the quantum consciousness. How best to discuss it though? “The soul, is us. It is the energy that guides us. Our brains, our bodies are just shells for the soul while we are on the mortal plain.”

  Alieha nodded.

  “No one knows exactly what it is though; but there are many theories. Gokhead for instance; he’s Drashig and they believe not in the soul but in these quantum tubules, it’s a popular view on the subject.”

  “I’ve heard of those, but what are they?”

  Marda considered again; part of her own education had included studying other religions. The Messiahist church was willing to consider other viewpoints, some more than others. “Basically they are a form of energy that vibrates in this plane and another, if my memory serves. And they exist in all things and all around us. We are just unaware of them. They are said to form the whole of the universal collective unconscious. But in intelligent beings they tend to gather and cluster, feeding off of experiences, and new ones form that same way. According to the Drashig, when a body dies, the tubules can take several different paths. They can disperse into other bodies, rejoin the universal collective unconscious and experience the universe. Still others remain clustered to become spirit orbs.”

  Kamden’s orb had almost seemed tangible after she’d sealed it the annura before. It was as if it had been made up of millions of little strings. It gave a great deal of credence to the Drashig theory. “It’s an elegant theory, and explains quite a lot. But it is still a theory, a belief. It also explains why people are more aware of orbs now. We’ve evolved to perceive them better, whereas before, they had to expend energy to let their presence be known.”

  Marda liked this. She hadn’t talked about religion in a long time. She’d come to like aspects of the Drashig belief system, even if it felt devoid of emotion and warmth. “It also explains mediums like me. We can speak to spirits because our genetics have enhanced that ability even more in our brains.”

  “So by that reasoning, even an animal, or a machine, could have a cluster of tubules, a soul, right?”

  Marda considered that, puffing out her lower lip in thought. “Most religions believe that all living creatures have a soul. Some just say that soul is not as,” she considered her words. “Not as developed, or of a lower level in animals. Some religions even believe that plants, rocks, and dirt have a spirit. The Messiahist have always said that animals have a spirit or soul, but the Drigist don’t share that belief.”

  Alieha scratched her chin.

  Maybe Arion had mentioned something about that before. “But me, personally; I think it’s somewhere between that. Maybe these tubules are a conduit joining the soul in the spiritual plane to the brain and the body. They clearly retain memories, emotions, and a piece of the soul that flowed through them.”

  Alieha looked as an orb flitted past and nodded.

  “That’s why some people are more in tune to certain things, like say, animals or machines. I think that even something that was born, or created without a soul, could, over time, develop one. Perhaps by amassing enough tubules to attract or create a new soul. Especially something that exists for a long time, like a really old tree, or planet, or star. Heck even a book,” she said, holding up the leatherbound tome. “It could build up a soul of sorts, collecting tubules from all the people who’d touched it, and the experiences they bring, or just by its presence in a place and time.”

  Alieha smiled back at her. “I like that. I really should read more on the subject. It’s fascinated me for a long while. I like the idea that something, a place or even a person could earn a soul.”

  Before Marda could say anything else Chris ran into the area, a pair of spirit orbs trailing her. “There you are,” she gasped. “Come on or we’ll be late,” she said running up to Marda.

  Marda sat her chair back up and tried to think what could bring Chris running to find her like this. “Late for what?”

  Chris fixed her with a hard look. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten that my Bichard and his band are giving their first performance in a hect.”

  Marda’s eyes went wide. Bichard had been so nervous and excited about the upcoming concert all decle. She tapped her temple, activating her micomm. “Oh no, I completely lost track of time. You coming Alieha?”

  “I’ve heard so much about Bichard’s band for so long that I wouldn’t miss it. I’d love to hear to hear him playing his little strings myself again.”

  “Good, let’s get going,” Chris said, grabbing her hand to pull her from the seat.

  Main Auditorium, UCSBA-13

  The massive main auditorium filled up with cadets and staff who hadn’t gone home for vacation. The murmurs of the crowd blended together into a single low rumble while people discussed what they expected of the concert. It was the first live performance the academy had ever hosted. Everyone had had to settle for live broadcasts over the hyperweave. Even cadets not interested in the music came out; some out of curiosity, others just for the opportunity to see a live performance.

  Marda, Chris and Alieha were one of the last groups to arrive at the auditorium and rushed to their seats with the rest of the team. As Marda sat, she gave Blazer a quick kiss. “Running it a little close honey.”

  “I know. I was having a really interesting conversation with Alieha, first time I’ve been able to.”

  “That’s good. Sorry I’ve been so busy, but we’re done now, and I’m yours for the rest of the break.”

  “You’d better be!” Marda replied, squeezing his hand as the lights in the chamber dimmed.

  The darkness extended from the rear of the seating area forward until only a single spotlight on the stage speared the darkness. The murmur of the crowd died down as all eyes, ears and other sensory organs focused on the spot, awaiting the upcoming performance. There was no grand announcement. Instead the band appeared one by one.

  The strumming of a seven-string vihutar drifted to Marda’s ears. She looked to the stage just in time to see an anulian woman in a skin-tight, iridescent jumpsuit leap onto the grandstand. The woman ambled across the stage to applause from the crowd, the males being the most vocal. Marda rolled her eyes and found even Blazer staring. She gave him a quick jab in the side before the next band member appeared.

  The hooting of an s-shaped double-horned seniphone came from the back of the auditorium. Marda looked back just in time to see an avian Chret leap into the air. For a moment, Marda thought him naked. She’d never seen a Chret out of his environment suit and she clapped a hand over her mouth. Looking at him however she caught the gleam of a nanoskin environment suit wrapping his feathered form. As he flew past she realized that there must be a nano-filter in his instrument breaking down his chlorine filled breaths into a non-toxic dissipate.

  She removed her hand from her mouth and watched the Chret circle the audience. Too bad my old CO never got to fly like that here. He flew two orbits around the audience before coming in for a landing on the stage, never once loosening his beak from his instrument.