Awakening on Orbis (20 page)

“Courage! Integrity! Self-discipline!” These three words stormed down upon us from the hoards of Jumpers who filled the balconies all around us.

“Your new family will guide you in your acceptance of these tenets. Only when these selves are awakened within you can you claim to be a Space Jumper.”

The Space Jumpers responded by cheering and thumping on whatever was close to them, even if that included each other.

“Piece of cake,” Switzer boasted.

“Please step forward as your name is called,” the Trust ordered. “Gora Bloom!”

The alien with the tentacles practically jumped.

“Your connector will be Sul em Pah; your monitor will be Kebin Tam.”

The crowd applauded, and Gora looked like he or she (I couldn’t tell) had won some sort of award.

“Randall Switzer!”

“Here goes nothing. Wish me luck,” he whispered as he stepped toward the egg.

“Your connector will be Che Tort; your monitor will be Temasos.”

The crowd cheered again, and Switzer held out his arms. This made them cheer a little louder. Switzer always loved attention.

“Johnny Turnbull!”

Dutifully, I stepped toward the egg as Switzer returned to his original spot. The crowd had stopped cheering, and they were all staring at me.
Did they know about me?
I hated feeling this way, like I already knew things weren’t going to be fair for me. I knew it was just in my head, but that’s the way I always felt.

“Your connector will be Brine Amar.” The Space Jumpers cheered just like they had for Switzer and Gora.
See?
I told myself.
It’s all in your head.
“Your monitor will be Quirin Ne Yarnos.”

That shut them up. The cheering had stopped immediately at the mention of Quirin’s name, and I shook my head. I knew it. It was always like this. I moved back toward Switzer.

“You always have to be different, don’t ya?” Switzer muttered.

Gora turned and spoke to us for the first time. His lipless mouth seemed to cut his face in half. “No one gets a member of the Trust for a monitor, especially Quirin,” he said.

“Is that good or bad?” I asked.

Gora grunted. “I suppose that depends on you. I envy you, but I would not change places with you for a million yornaling crystals.”

“There’s a lot I would do for a million yornaling crystals,” Switzer interrupted.

“Not this,” Gora spat, and all his tentacles lay down at once.

I looked up and saw the Space Jumpers start to shuffle away as the huge egg rose silently toward the blinding light above my head. “Doesn’t anyone explain things properly?” I grumbled.

“Why?” Switzer replied. “Why do you always have to
know
? You live in an alien world. Maybe they don’t explain it because it’s natural to them. Maybe it’s like breathing for them. I don’t see you going around explaining breathing to everyone you meet.”

“It’s not the same thing,” I argued.

“Isn’t it? Why do you feel so entitled to get an answer for everything? It looks like things have been going along just dandy here before you showed up. You think they’re going to change how things are done just to suit you? Maybe it’s you who needs to do a little changing. Keep your mouth shut and your eyes and ears open. Something tells me that this is a place you need to figure out on your own.”

“Strong advice,” Gora added.

Switzer made it sound so easy, but I still couldn’t let it go. “Then what do we do now?” I asked, but it felt like more of a complaint.

“You follow me,” said a voice walking toward us. The light was strong across the open floor, and three figures emerged out of the glare. They were Nagools.

“See?” Switzer whispered. “Let it come to you.”

“I am Brine Amar,” the Nagool greeted us. “This is Sul em and Che. Please follow me.”

Brine Amar appeared a little more colorful than most of the Nagools I had encountered. While his face was still ashen, he sported colors of shimmering sapphire around his eyes and brow. His forehead formed a ridge just above this blue marking that crested up and over his head. As the Nagools turned back in the direction they had come from, I could see that this bone ran all the way to the back of his skull. Thin brown hair grew on the sides of his head — maybe to even it out, I thought, but it still left him with a long, oval-shaped head.

We followed slowly, as each of the Nagools shuffled their feet so delicately that it looked as if they were floating. I was careful not to catch their robes as I walked, staring at their high collars. Brine Amar’s was decorated with a thick bouquet of colored animal feathers, while the others were a plain golden material.

As we were leaving, I glanced up at the balconies. They were all empty.

“Where did they go?” I said.

“Oh, would you shut up!” Switzer cried.

I glared at Switzer as we slipped through a tall, crowned doorway and into a coolly lit corridor. Wherever the Nagools had taken us, it was much different from the rock and metal section of the comet we were staying on. The corridor was molded from some sort of plastic, and a soft bluish light reflected off threads in the Nagool’s robes. I noticed that crystal markers identified the different hallways and doors that we passed.

“I guess these guys live a little better than we do,” I whispered, and then asked, “Why are you called connectors?”

Switzer jabbed me in the ribs.

“Ow. Can’t I ask?”

“Certainly you may,” Brine Amar said, turning to look at us. “That is part of our role: to help you understand the magnitude of your responsibility. Sometimes the answer to a seemingly insignificant question can mean the difference between life and death in your travels. As your connector, I am here to help your nodes establish a permanent link with the Universe. A Space Jumper’s greatest accomplice is his connection with the Source, but understand that this is not a simple task. In order to make this link, you must be willing to abandon the dream that you are currently in. Through self-discipline and trust in yourself, you will be able to manifest a new dream, a dream in which you are in perfect harmony with the energy that flows through our universe. The Source is abundant. It can provide everything you need. It can connect you with the infinitesimal components of the atom and put you in harmony with the orbit of the largest planets. The Source is your point of singularity. The enlightened state is a Oneness in which there is no division of parts. The Source will present everything you need to reach your true potential as a Space Jumper. You simply need to accept it.”

I only understood about a quarter of what Brine Amar said, but I liked the fact that he was answering questions. “All those Space Jumpers I just saw, have they all reached this enlightened state?”

“Again with all the questions,” Switzer scoffed.

“Oh, no,” replied Brine Amar.

“It is a difficult task,” Sul em Pah remarked.

“Some spend a lifetime reaching and never move from the spot you occupy right now,” Che Tort added.

“Most of the universe is unable to resist the negative distractions,” Brine Amar said.

“Do I need this connection to be a Space Jumper?” Switzer asked.

“Be careful — that sounds like a question,” I said.

“The path is just as important as the destination,” Brine Amar replied.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Switzer said.

“But it will make your task much easier,” Sul em Pah added.

The corridor opened into a small glass atrium similar to the Spaceway stations on Orbis, only much smaller.

“This is where we depart,” Brine Amar announced.

“How do we get back?” I asked.

“I’m sorry. I meant, this is where we will separate and begin your individual orientation. The goal of a connector is to gain a deeper understanding of the candidate so that we may lay out the best path for your awakening. One-on-one encounters are a necessary part of this process. We will meet four times every cycle, between your training sessions. I thought we might begin with a relaxing tour of your environment. It may be our last chance before you begin.”

The glass doors opened up and allowed us to access three small fliers, each large enough to hold three or four people. I followed Brine Amar into the middle one. I sat next to him in the back. Some sort of bot piloted each flier — it was hard to tell, as the pilot was encased in a dark green shield near the nose of the craft, but I was able make out someone moving inside.
Only a robot could see through that cockpit,
I thought.

The Nagools did not say good-bye to each other, but I nodded at Switzer and he did the same. We pushed away before he did, and as the flier wobbled over the expanse that opened up below me, I really got a sense of how big this place was.

“Are we on a ship or a comet?” I asked.

“Both,” Brine Amar replied. “The Trust built a base within the comet and then eventually harnessed the mass to move at their will. The comet provides perfect cover when their work requires proximity to a young or primitive civilization. Are you aware of the nickname the other Space Jumpers have for the comet?”

“No,” I said.

“They refer to it as the Hollow.”

“Why the Hollow?”

“They’ve called it that for so long now that I don’t believe anyone really remembers, but it certainly makes this place seem more friendly. Don’t you agree?”

Brine Amar did not seem like a typical Nagool to me. My history had afforded me many encounters with Nagools, and they always seemed extremely isolated. In fact, I had hardly ever heard them speak.

“Friendlier? Maybe,” I replied. “Brine Amar, will I be able to go back to the Rings of Orbis and visit my friends and my sister? I was hoping I could see them soon.”

“I’m afraid that is not possible. You belong to the Trust now. It is up to them to decide when you are fit to leave.”

“Well, how long will my training take?”

“That is up to you.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“What would you like the answer to be, then?”

“I would like you to say
soon.
I would like you to tell me that I can see my friends very soon.”

“If that is what you want, then you must believe that you will see them as soon as you want. As I said, it is up to you.”

“That doesn’t make any sense at all.”

“It will. That is why you are here. You will understand in time.”

Time was the one thing I didn’t feel like wasting on this rock.

I glanced out the window as our flier cleared the bay where we had boarded. Below us, I saw half a dozen spacecraft parked in some sort of landing bay that was carved into the side of the comet. I guess Space Jumpers need spacecraft on occasion as well. I didn’t bother to ask. Near the top and on the far side of the bay, we entered an oval shaft that looked like some sort of connector tube to another part of the comet. When we emerged from the other end, Brine Amar gestured below us and said, “I’m sure you are familiar with this.”

I was. Below me I could see a Quest-Nest arena, more like the one on the
Renaissance
than the one on Orbis 3.

“You will be spending a lot of time here. I understand you are quite accomplished.”

“Switzer’s better,” I remarked, watching the Space Jumpers watching the labyrinth. They were running some sort of drill, and the different participants were waiting for their turn.

“Are they training as well?” I asked.

“I believe they are refreshing their skills.”

“I don’t mean to be rude. . . .”

“It is impossible for you to offend me,” he asserted.

“That’s good to know, but I was just wondering about
your
involvement, you know, as a Nagool, I mean. I thought Nagools were against violence and this sort of thing,” I said, pointing at the Quest-Nest arena. “I remember witnessing a group of Nagools protesting outside the Labyrinth before the Chancellor’s Challenge.”

“The Citizens on the Rings of Orbis use the Space Jumpers’ training field in a perverse manner. It is true that we oppose all violence, but Space Jumpers are not here to initiate violence; they are merely here to protect and facilitate this universe’s path to enlightenment. You will never find a Space Jumper who strikes first or one who uses his powers for personal gain. A Space Jumper serves the Ancients, prepares for enlightenment at the hands of the Scion, and eventually, if needed, will stand against the Knull.”

“I’ve heard the Knull mentioned before, but I don’t know anything about it,” I said.

“You will know everything in time.”

Brine Amar and I moved through more tubes and even smaller sections of the Hollow. My escort pointed out one of the eating commons, a relaxation area, a holographic recreation area, which looked interesting, a medical center, and even a commerce area with little Trading Chambers.

“This is like a city,” I exclaimed.

“Much bigger, really. I’ve only shown you the highlights.”

“Is that some sort of robot?” I asked, pointing to an individual attending one of the Trading Chambers. “That person there. The one with that metal thing around the back of his neck. He doesn’t look like a Space Jumper.”

“That is a Honock. You’ll find many here at the Hollow.”

“Honock? I’m sorry, but that didn’t seem to translate. Is that a race?”

“No, they are workers for the Trust.”

“Knudniks?”

“No, not at all. How do I explain? The Space Jumpers . . . make them.”

“They make them?”

“Yes, in a way. During their travels, Space Jumpers come across individuals who have been killed, often wrongly so. When possible, the Space Jumpers can save certain parts of the unfortunate individual. It can be some tissue or some memories, and if they’re lucky, a little bit of their Source energy, and then they instill that essence into these Honocks. They really are machines by most definitions, but depending on how much of the individual is salvaged, they are every bit as functioning an individual as you or I.”

I thought about Vairocina. I wondered if she would be able to use a Honock for a new body. She had been searching for so long. I felt a tinge of regret for not bringing her.

“Do they ever leave the Hollow?”