Sojourn Sol (Eternal Sol) (2 page)

The government had tried since their inception to destroy them, but nobody could deny that some natural births were unavoidable, so they were allowed to continue so long as the government staged sieges from time to time. Their existence was supposed to be a secret, but everyone knew who they were and had only to ask the right person if they were in need.

Their rites were held in secret under the cloak of the finest encryption and anti-detection systems in the galaxy. The senate couldn't see their dining hall any better than they could see what was on the other side of a black hole. It was to protect the children—they had to be protected by somebody.

The ceiling-high double doors of the dining hall had been sealed tightly, locking everyone in. Tamil looked up from his navy blue hood to see the brightly lit stage in front of the pitch black hall.  It was lit by only by a few dozen spinning hover drones - all in the shape of the ancient lotus flower. He stood in line, waiting to be seated with Henny standing behind him. She had insisted on sitting next to him during the ritual. There were several long tables which sat more than a few hundred students on every side, and each one contained a row of replicators which would supply the meal shortly, but the food didn't matter—not that night. What mattered was the ceremony.

Sister Iggatha was the first to climb to the stage. Her long, fiery red hair streamed behind her, along with her flowing white dress, which made it seem like she was floating to the center of the stage. Tamil could barely make out the amplification system that had been attached to her cheek.

“When the sisterhood was established, it was comprised of nothing more than 4 children, from different mothers, who just needed a place to live and find a future.  Enkil, Thresh, Baker and Jossel knew that they would never be able to leave the planet, and that if they tried they would be killed so they stayed with the benign founder of the Sisterhood - Sister Anya. She gave them shelter and ensured that they would find their future as she would do for countless others. Today, we shelter you from space, but there is no need to provide you with a future because society has channels through which you can live.

Every year, we celebrate the coming of age of the Bene'Anak, the children of the sisterhood. This is the time when you will begin forging a future for yourself. Though we have prepped you as best as we could, the galaxy is a cold, uninviting place, and you are not welcome. You must learn to pass through the shadows of society and find your place. You have established channels—the military, the work stations and such. But there is so much more out there for you. But there are places that shirk the normal constraints of professional life, and will accept you; where you can live freely and be yourselves.

Remember your studies of human behavior, the patterns of the mind and the actions that ensue. Find the subtle nuances around you, and you will find a place where you can fit.

Now, after I call your name, you will head to the front of the hall to receive your cauldron, the symbol of fellowship that will guide you to your future.'

Her face seemed to grow in magnitude as she grabbed a tiny sheet of carbon fiber and went through the list. It seemed to take hours before his name was called. Tamil could hear Henny's cloak rustling right before she opened her mouth, and every so often somebody would clear their throats. There was a somber air about the room. People were losing their family, their lovers, and Tamil didn't know what to think of that. He'd always been on his own except for the sweet girl that always followed him around and me him feel complete.  Henny had been so young when they first met he laughed when he saw how big her cloak was – trailing behind her sweeping the floor as she walked.  Since then, she grown to fit it very well, but it was a fond image of her that he kept close to his heart and endeared her to him.

When the sister called his name, Henny grabbed his hands and whispered, “I love you.” it jumped out of her mouth like it had been aching to come out for years, and though deep down he knew how she felt it still hit him like a scorching stake through his chest. He couldn't breathe, all he could do was stare down at the blank, black table and wait. She stared too, and they just sat there for an eternal second until the woman repeated his name and he shot up like a bullet, and she began to sob silently. He had a tear streaking down his face too, though he would never admit it.

Did he love her? He would protect her. He would kill for her, and he would be sure that she was well taken care of, so yes; he did love her. He knew how he felt. He saw how her hair fell softly in curls down her neck as they lay in the sand together, and how when he came in to kiss her, she melted. He should've done it. He'd seen it in her ready to burst, and he just let it sit until it was too late.

He had stopped dead, and was suddenly aware that the entire hall was waiting for him, but he didn't care he turned and around grabbed her up,  and thrust his mouth to hers, passionately kissing her. She was caught off guard but the passion was electric, and like a jolt sent them both reeling into shock. There was a lingering feeling like sweetness that moved up from the depth of their souls, fueling his kisses which randomly, savagely kissed her neck, her chin, her lips and her forehead.  They were momentarily alone -  lost in their lust and time seemed to stand still until it was broken by the shrill call of the Sister..

“TAMIL!” The sister had obviously had enough. She was ready to come down and grab him by the ear—the couple could tell by her face. He turned around and let Henny collapse in a pile of tears while he walked up, avoiding the piercing stares of the other children. He would be a man in just a few steps, the burning light at the front of the stage was on him, and he could feel the scrutiny piercing his skull as the fiery sister looked down on him with a wide smile. He'd known this woman his whole life.

He climbed up the tiny steps leading to where she stood offering him the silver cauldron, a tiny black pot fashioned in the pre-stellar fashion lending a charming quality to an otherwise intimidating room. “Good luck,” the woman whispered and when he reached out and touched it he was standing in the middle of a metallic room aboard an off planet ship, which would take him wherever he wanted to go.

Come with me and you'll see a world of pure imagination.

--Pre-stellar Film

The sisters of Rhoas'Anak were no fools. If the Bene were sent into the galaxy through traditional channels, they could be used by the establishment for their own purposes. By allowing this to happen, they would eliminate the right of class mobility for all of their children.

Sister Jahmoon was called the enchantress, not because she had paranormal senses, which she'd honed for years, but because she drove the future of the Bene. Years before any of the children reached adulthood, they were given precise instructions on how to survive in the galaxy. They were taught about societal views and culture, as well as the diverse spectrum of beliefs and traditions that make up human civilization, but their education was so much more. She taught them to see meaning behind subtle movements and the subtle art of moving a person, manipulating them and easing them into conforming to their will.

Thousands of years of human psychology had turned conversation, negotiation and daily life into a fine art which, when honed properly could muster the power of a white star. Through the use of Prana Bindu, precise muscular and nerve control, they were able to hone their perception and shield themselves from scrutiny, and learn to focus in on the little details that said more than a person was willing to say. They could move through a sea of people as though they were the only person who could see. They could read others, and nobody could read them. This art had many names, but to the Bene'Anak, it was simply called enchantment.

Their first day, Jahmoon gathered children into class and handed them each a cauldron saying, “This is your future. When you leave this place, you will take this cauldron with you. It will be the vessel of all of your dreams and ambitions. I want you all to place the cauldron in front of you and imagine the person that you would like to become, flowing into it. Now,” she looked around the room. “I want you to look deep into the black liquid and stare as long as you can, focusing on your Ajna and directing your second sight into it. If you focus long enough, and you are will to see it, then you will see your fate.”

Tamil stared for nearly twenty minutes, trying to focus as hard as he possibly could. He entered a deliberate trance by slowing his breathing and willing all of his muscles to relax, then he slipped into the place just beneath the material, where the inner workings of the energetic realm twist the physical world. He could see the white strings of fate and look out at what was to come.

He saw himself in a uniform, saluting a man and walking on strange planets.  He had a gun on his hip. He didn't know what that meant, but when he opened his eyes and pulled himself out of his trance, all he could think about was asking the teacher to help him decipher his dream. When he asked, she simply laughed and told him that it was just an exercise to help him focus on becoming the man he wants to be. She told him that if he believed he would be that man, then he would have something to work for and do better in life, but he knew better. He saw a ship, a distinct face and things he'd never seen before.

That vision stuck with him when he entered the basic ship that had been given to him by the sisterhood. He was heading for the recruitment base in the Telu system where he would be able to enlist. He was chasing fate when he donned his cognitive console headset and sat back in his black arm chair and with a single thought he was transported to the other end of the galaxy.

The Third Stallion was the protective force surrounding the tiny blue planet housing the military base. They swarmed by the millions with tiny drones, warships and transports, handling their business and patrolling the system as well as the extra-solar space surrounding it. Their signals were coming through on his console as soon as he landed, so he turned on his video feed and put on his visor.

He was transported to a white space, where he stood as a simple gray avatar, waiting in line with other bodies made of the same translucent matter. He would have to wait for some time before somebody could attend to his arrival at the black desk in the front of the line.

When he was nearing the front, tiny black script popped up in front of his eyes asking him to state his reason for entering the system. With a single thought, he informed the system that he was there for recruitment. The visor switched off of its own accord, and a large gray rectangular transport ship moved alongside his own and requested to dock. He approved the request, and looked back to the circular hatch behind him which began to slide open slowly to reveal a metallic humanoid robot which made its way into the cabin. It looked the boy up and down, then said, “You may follow,” in a surprisingly human voice.

Thousands of thoughts moved through Tamil's head. What if he couldn't make his way through training? Could he handle the exercise, and what about the commanders? He was never any good at taking orders. Ironically, his concerns weren't about battle itself, but whether or not he would be accepted into the armed forces. He could withstand bloodshed. He was the kid that never cringed when he saw a dead animal or another one of the kids get hurt. He was the guy that nobody messed with because the consequence was unpredictable: they might get away with it or they might find their heads bashed in.

He wasn't just the playful child that everyone loved—no—he was also a bloodthirsty beast who could clash with titans through sheer determination. He didn't say much; he didn't have to. His presence was enough. He was slow to anger, but when he got angry, he could destroy a mountain with a look. He was decisive and cool—he knew the army would hone his skills, but he wasn't sure whether or not they would like him.

They would put him through test after test, challenging every single part of him, from his Prana Bindu concentration to his physical prowess. They could enhance a man as many ways as they wanted; they could even enter his head. The problem with the army was that they would want him to have the right spirit, something that would have to be isolated within him. They were going to torture him to see how much he could endure. That way they would be able to see whether or not he had the determination to withstand service. He had spirit, more so than most men in the system, and the last thing he wanted to do was endure torture just to prove it.

The waiting area was nothing more than several rows of seats that spread to the back of the room. He sat down and pulled down the visor above his head, which transported him an automated video where a man in the navy blue army uniform appeared. In true military fashion, his face was grim, with eyes glazed over, just like any hardened killer.

“You are a testament to bravery, and the entire race would like to thank you for beginning the military recruitment application process. Your ship will be entered into an off planet docking bay and will be available to you anytime through either touch or cognitive console. Your ship will drop into orbit in less than twenty minutes, where you will be transported to the recruitment office for testing. The man laughed and leaned back into his ancient desk chair. “You're never going to make it.” the feed dropped.

He waited while the ship made its slow descent into orbit. Listening to his to his breath and descended into that space where time slows to a crawl and he could perceive everything around him even the minute grinding of the cabin's metal so soft that only an adherent of enchantment could possibly hear it. To him it was the grinding of infernal gears as time raced faster and faster and he felt the adrenaline surge through him. Gravity left the cabin in a single instant, and his body was lighter than a speck of dust with his hands hovering above the arm rests, then it crashed down with the force of a sledgehammer, pressing into his brain and compressing his blood vessels, forcing the air out of his lungs. He was thrown into a state of panic as his body plummeted to the surface of the planet. Black spots were clouding his vision as he struggled to suck in a single breath, but his lungs seemed to fall short every single time, leaving him just a bit closer to slipping over the edge of consciousness.

It began in his throat, like a need to explode just to relieve some of the pressure that was threatening to crush him. Then as his torso began to press farther and farther into his chest, he fought, driving his fingers into the armrests just to slam his diaphragm upwards and pull it down. He managed to take in a tiny amount of air, but it would be enough, he could feel himself slipping again and again into the void. Like a tiny supernova he thrust his whole body up and sucked in air sharply to allow the oxygen to enter his brain, restoring his mental faculties and allowing him to finally relieve some of the tension that would've killed him had he not mustered the strength to breathe. It was at that moment that the sheer magnitude of his undertaking fell on him like a cloud of black terror. He'd die if he didn't pass through training.