Maia and the Xifarian Conspiracy (The Lightbound Saga Book 1) (28 page)

“Together,” Ren whispered as he touched her fist with his own.

More fists came flying in, completing a neat circle.

“Together.”

“Together.”

“Together.”

44: The Stabilator

About twenty steps down from the entrance, Nafi pointed toward a darkened alcove on the left. Piled clumsily in its hold were the limp forms of two sentries. The saboteurs had indeed struck.

With a rapidly increasing heartbeat, Maia tiptoed forward. With every step she took, the air grew clammier; veins of dampness spread like giant cobwebs across the dark, stone-lined walls, and Maia struggled to breathe as she trudged across a wave of suffocating and stale air. A faint, bluish light seeped upward, the source of which did not become apparent until the staircase ended. She had reached the threshold of an enormous circular chamber, separated from the central area by a waist-high wall. For a moment Maia stared open-mouthed at the gigantic contraption at the center of the room. Then she squinted and her arms flew up instinctively to shade her eyes.

A colossal glass globe, that reminded Maia of a giant crystal ball, filled the underground chamber. It rested on a raised circular platform from which a series of chunky cables and wires ran to the sides of the room. Each of these gargantuan coils was attached to the platform through a bulbous protrusion engraved with notches. A thick metallic column passed through the center of the sphere and into the domed ceiling above it.

The wonder of it all, however, was the interior of the globe. Sparkling bolts of light radiated from the central column inside the sphere, creating an illumination brighter than anything Maia had ever seen. From the wonderment on her friends’ brightly lit faces, she surmised that everyone was equally amazed by the view.

“So, this is the Stabilator,” Ren said in a hushed, respectful voice.

“Look,” Dani pointed at two men, clad in flowing, dark-red capes, fumbling around the base of the ethereal orb.

“That’s them all right,” Maia whispered, recognizing their garb.

“Let’s go get them,” Nafi suggested in a bright voice.

“Right, but the question is how?” Maia’s question was undoubtedly worrisome. “Someone needs to get help while the others try to hold these thugs from damaging anything.”

“Maybe we could get the curator to open up,” Ren said. “It might be easier for me to get his attention without getting arrested right away, since I’m from around here.”

Maia nodded in agreement and so did the others.

“I’ll tell him that we saw some commotion on the grounds and decided to look into it.”

Maia and her teammates nodded once again; that sounded like a reasonable enough explanation for their presence in the Grotto. Whispering a quick “good luck” to his friends, Ren tiptoed up the stairs. As the rest hunkered down and watched, the men fumbled around, feeling the notches in the bulbous protrusions where the cables attached to the base of the Stabilator.

“You know what they’re looking for?” Dani clutched at Maia’s hand. “The lock for the key. They don’t know where the key fits. I’m sure those spherical things are the locks.”

“Guys, I have a plan,” Maia whispered. “Doob and Daab . . . we could use them to create a distraction. Maybe we can buy ourselves some time.”

Kusha’s eyes sparkled and Nafi nodded eagerly. Maia felt very hopeful; suddenly, there was a slimmest possibility of averting a terrible tragedy.

“Let’s split up and attack them from both sides,” Maia suggested.

After Doob and its controller stick had been placed into Dani’s eager hands, Kusha and Nafi crawled along the aisle to the far side of the room with Daab. As the girls readied themselves for a signal from Kusha, something changed in the demeanor of the hooded men. One of them waved at the other, shouting and pointing at the lock he had been inspecting. His companion rushed over, examined the notch, threw his arms up, and shouted in glee.

“They must have found a match,” Dani whispered.

Maia felt a chill. What was taking Ren so long to get back? What if he . . . no, she could not let doubt creep into her heart. He had to come back for them. He was their teammate after all. She had to believe, she had to have faith in their friendship.

The men kneeled in front of the sphere. One of them reached inside his robe and took out a gleaming blue prong threaded on a chain. Maia guessed that was the Chrysocolla key. He inserted the prong into the lock and it slid in noiselessly. Right at that moment, someone cooed from the other side of the room. The men froze, and then peered in the direction of the noise.

Maia prayed for them to get up and inspect the source of the commotion. The men simply stared. Then the shrill whistle sounded once again, cutting a jagged path through the taut atmosphere of the room. Maia breathed in relief as the two men looked at each other, pulled the key out of the lock, and rose swiftly to their feet.

The war cry that knocked Maia off her feet was not something she would have expected coming from someone as modest as Dani. The noise had its intended effect. The men stopped, and after a brief exchange among themselves, they split up. The taller of the two walked cautiously in the direction of Maia and Dani. When he was about twenty steps from them, Dani launched Doob. The tiny projectile took off without a sound, zoomed over the balustrade, and hit the man squarely on the forehead, taking him completely by surprise. He yelped in pain and staggered backward while Dani pulled Doob back toward the aisle. A loud groan came from the other side of the Stabilator; Daab had sprung into life as well.

Doob flew out again—a tiny blur shooting upward and then plunging down on the man’s head in a fast spiral. The man detected the attacking craft at the very last moment, tried to sidestep and avoid it, but didn’t quite succeed. As Doob’s right wing scraped across his shoulder, a gash appeared on his dark robe. The man groaned, and then shouted out in rage at the flying craft. Dani straightened the Raptor and aimed at the man’s face. He seemed to sense its approach and slowly unhooked a thin wire rope from his waist. Then he laughed.

The sinister cackle resonated throughout the chamber and plunged into Maia’s ears like a toothed knife, almost stilling her heart as she held her breath. Maia stared, her insides churning at the thought of failure, her mouth parched. The whip crackled, and the tiny tentacles that covered its entire length seemed to stretch out and claw the air. The craft swerved, but it was not fast enough. The whip caught the rear end of the little Raptor, a few tentacles wrapping around its tail ferociously. Dani accelerated and broke the grip, but the whip had done its damage. Doob went into a dizzying tailspin.

The man had walked close to the aisle where the girls were hiding. He paused briefly, facing the railing that separated them, then leaped over it into the passageway and faced the two girls as they cringed in fear. He stepped closer, flicking his whip as he walked, his eyes glinting through the narrow slits of his mask. Maia and Dani stumbled backward, struggling to stay out of his reach. Barely ten steps separated the man from his hapless prey when Doob swooped down on him. He fell back, trying to evade Doob, and struck at it as he steadied himself. The whip caught the tiny Raptor. It went crashing and sliding along the aisle, spinning and bobbing out of control.

“Jump over the rail,” Maia whispered to Dani as the man turned his attention back to them.

As they dived over the banister into the center of the room, Maia heard the crack of the whip again. The tip missed her arm by the breadth of a hair, but the tentacles grazed over her wrist. A thousand nails seemed to scrape over her bare skin, a burning sensation spreading over the area where the tentacles had touched her body. There was the sound of shuffling feet on the other side of the globe. A limping Kusha and an unsteady Nafi appeared from behind its engorged middle. Maia was just about to rush to them when an idea struck her.

“Dani,” she whispered urgently. “Give me Doob’s controller. Quick.”

Dani stopped and stared for a moment, confused, before she handed over the thin stick. Maia ran to the lock where the men had fitted the key. Hastily slipping Doob’s controller into the keyhole, she scrambled toward Kusha and Nafi, Dani following at her heels.

“You guys all right?” Kusha asked, panting.

“All right . . . yes. But trapped,” Maia observed as the men stepped closer from both sides. Behind them, the Stabilator shone and sparkled in an eternal ebb and flow of currents.

The men raised their hands in unison, and Maia braced herself for the pain as the whips came slithering at them, the tentacles licking hungrily at the air. The whips weaved around their waists and arms, holding them in a vice-like grip, and pinning them against the cool glass walls of the Stabilator.

“Oh, this is even better. Some kids from the Initiative. Can’t believe that project is such a great ruse already.” The taller man spoke in a teasing voice. “We will just leave these snoops here. No one will ever believe anything these outsiders say, not right away anyway. That will give us plenty of time to take cover.”

The other man chuckled as he stepped closer to the lock. He took out the crystal key from the folds of his robe and waved it in front of Dani. “And you, spawn of the Jjord, will watch as I pull the plug on your pretty, little world.”

Maia yearned to console Dani, to say something to stop the tears streaming down Dani’s cheeks as the man pushed the key into the lock. The jeering, misshapen smile of the man’s mask seemed to mock Maia, and her chest hurt from an intense pain that kept churning her insides. She held her breath as the man tried to turn the Chrysocolla key.

A guttural, almost startled groan broke the unbearable silence. The man nudged and pushed and struggled. The key would simply not turn. Maia blinked. The plan had worked! The controller stick had stuck the lock. The disaster had been averted, even if for just a while. The men pulled and poked and argued. They cursed and kicked and yelled. The plug held. Maia closed her eyes and wished for a miracle. She hoped and prayed for Ren to burst into the room with sentries in tow. She wished for her friends to be safe.

The heat erupted from her wrist, the scorching wave that coursed through her veins stunning her momentarily. As she struggled against the chain that bound her, a wall of fire shot up in front of them, forming a blazing ring around the Stabilator, rising from the floor to the ceiling. The two masked men stumbled backward as Maia plummeted into a haze, screaming inside and gasping for breath when the heat finally overtook her. A bright white flash danced in front of her eyes before the cold darkness rushed in, flooding her senses as her legs gave way.

45: Emeritus Master Phocluus

The small white room was not much different from any other room on Xif but for a vase with bright yellow and red flowers that stood on a table next to the bed. It was strange how that spot of color had brought life to the otherwise insipid room, Maia thought as she woke up, her mind still hazy.

“Hello, Maia.” A low voice, unknown yet familiar, made her look away from the blooms and focus on the other side of the room. A lean man in a red-and-gold uniform sat in the corner, smiling. He wore his gray hair neatly parted in the middle; thin, black-rimmed glasses enhanced the sharpness of his rectangular face. As Maia squinted to get a clearer look, he rose and pulled his chair closer to her bed.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his gentle voice almost trembling with concern.

Maia felt fine. She slowly remembered the moments before she had blacked out, the searing pain and the flashing white light that made her feel like her eyes would be burned out of their sockets.

“I’m all right. But where am I? And who are you?” she blurted, flushing in afterthought at her abruptness.

“I am Phocluus, Emeritus Master of the Xifarian Academy, and the Chairman of the Board of Scientific Defense Services.”

More worrisome thoughts flooded Maia’s mind. She propped herself up on her elbows, and a barrage of questions escaped her suddenly drying mouth.

“Where are my friends? What happened to the key? What happened to those men?”

Phocluus smiled and leaned forward, tapping his chin thoughtfully. He wore at least one jeweled ring on each of his slender fingers, his hand a sparkling rainbow of colors. Maia shot a quick glance at his other hand and noticed it was similarly adorned.

“Let me see if I can answer your questions,” he said. “I arrived at the Sanctuary, summoned by the news of a security breach at the Grotto, where I was met by a young boy and a very agitated curator. The boy, Ren, had the most interesting story to tell, and he led us through the inner courtyard and into the Grotto. We had reached the last flight of stairs, when a vicious stream of energy hit us. It was so strong and powerful that for a long time we simply crouched on the stairs, unable to move. After it subsided, we stepped inside, ready to take on the intruders.

“We were greeted by an unusual sight. The two men that Ren had alerted us about stood in front of the Stabilator pulpit, looking somewhat baffled,” Phocluus chuckled. “In front of them and surrounding the entire Stabilator was a huge wall of flames that nearly touched the ceiling above. We could not see anything behind that shield of energy, but I figured it had kept the Stabilator safe.”

“Did you catch them?”

“Yes, they are in our custody now, and we continue to question them,” Phocluus informed. “Unfortunately, we have not been able to extract any information from them so far.”

“So you don’t know what they wanted?”

“No, but I do have a theory.” His slender face turned grave. “Our Stabilator here—we call it the Mother—is electromagnetically linked to two smaller Stabilators on Tansi called the Progeny, via the locks. These locks not only keep the links tied together, but they also control the flow of immensely concentrated blocks of energy through them. At the Progeny, this energy is distributed to the power grids on Tansi.”

He paused to smile at the wide-eyed Maia who sat devouring his words.

“These people were about to decouple the channel that links the Jjordic Progeny, an act that would have caused widespread outages in some of the undersea settlements. The ones that depend solely on us would be particularly devastated. But not just that—the two Stabilators on Tansi are balanced meticulously between themselves, a balance that is critical to their functioning. Had the Chrysocolla lock been disconnected, both Progeny would have been impaired, and most of the land cities and towns would be affected as well.”

Maia had held her breath as she listened, engrossed in the chairman’s words. Now she closed her eyes and exhaled.

So, in essence, we have prevented a catastrophe of proportions we had not even fathomed.
Maia wondered what these people really wanted, what they would have gained by the deaths of thousands of people on their neighboring planet. She imagined how the underwater settlements would have perished, suffocated to death as their air circulators failed. She shuddered as she thought of how the towns in the northern reaches of Tansi would have succumbed to the winter freeze after a few days without heat.

“And who are these people?” she asked, her voice sounding faint.

“They possibly belong to the Order of the Fyrstell, the covert military wing of a political faction that has been trying to send a strong message to the Resistance. They have been pushing to cut off energy supplies to show the power we wield, a method to which our government does not agree. So far, they seemed under control in the Senate, but seeing their attack on the Stabilator, I worry that their roots have grown too deep to be eradicated.”

“But innocent people, who have nothing to do with the Resistance, could be hurt,” Maia exclaimed as she sat up.

“True,” Chairman Phocluus nodded gravely.

“What happened to the key?” Maia asked in a small voice.

“After a while the shield died down and we found all of you behind it in a state of deep unconsciousness. The Stabilator was perfectly safe, and we found the missing key stuck in the lock. We immediately secured the key and brought you and your friends to the Conservatory to rest and recover.”

“How long has it been since then?”

“You have been sleeping all night and well into the afternoon; so have your three friends.” He smiled as Maia gasped in surprise. “Everyone is doing pretty well and they should be up and about anytime now.”

“At least we haven’t missed the Grand Gala. But . . .” Maia remembered something else, “but what was the curtain of fire?”

“I am not sure, Maia, but I believe it was the manifestation of a telepathic wave that was generated in unison from all of you. I noticed you were wearing firestone wristbands. These stones are believed to magnify and transmit telepathic waves between bearers. Of course they have to be of one root or the same mother stone, which yours were.

“You may not have been told that if the bearers sharing a root focus on one thought, the stones sometimes act as a projection portal to the external world. Such a situation had developed when you were confronted with a very dangerous and seemingly irrecoverable situation. All of your thoughts converged, rising out the same concerns—the need to save the Stabilator, the need for protection from the enemy. That thought was projected as the wall of fire, giving you the safety you wanted so desperately.”

“But, I don’t understand,” Maia interrupted. “None of us have any telepathic abilities, let alone the strength to create that wall of fire.”

“I believe all of us have some telepathic powers that lie dormant through most of our ordinary lives. Still, I do not think that the strength of that projection came from any one or even all of you. It had to be more than that. I believe that the wristbands projected your combined neurological oscillations, but they were magnified a thousand times because you were in that room. The Stabilator is a source of tremendous energy, and the stones drew power from it. A strong unified projection was all it needed to start with and the rest followed.”

The door creaked. A pair of inquisitive eyes and a few spikes of black-and-white hair peeked from behind the partly open panels. Ren. A warm wave of happiness engulfed Maia’s heart and brought a smile to her face.

“Ah, Ren is here. I guess the others are still a little sleepy,” Phocluus said as he rose to leave.

“Thank you for visiting, sir,” Maia said. She had taken a liking to the kind and friendly man.

Chairman Phocluus was almost near the door when he hesitated, turned around, and came back toward Maia, who by now had scampered out of the bed. “Tell me something, Maia. Does the name Sophia mean anything to you?”

Maia’s heart skipped a couple of beats. She was not used to hearing strangers say that name, the name of her mother, the mother she was never fated to know.

“My mother . . . her name was Sophia,” she stammered.

“I felt it the moment I spoke to you. You have a strong imprint of her spirit, as if her essence is living within you. Most unusual, I have to say, this juxtaposition of spirits,” he said thoughtfully.

“You knew her?” Maia asked.

“Of course I did. She was a student at the academy when I was the principal there, the most brilliant pupil I ever had.” His eyes glazed with memories as he paused. “It has been long since I last saw her, about fourteen years. But it is as if I can still see her standing here.”

For moments that seemed to last forever, Maia stood rooted to the spot, trying to grasp the chairman’s words. An unfamiliar wave of yearning rose through her, and left her heart aching. She rushed to his side as he walked to the door.

“Chairman Phocluus, I have never known her,” Maia blurted. “How was she?”

“A wonderful person,” he replied. He looked away for a moment, then turned back and held Maia’s gaze. “You would have been proud to have known her, and from what I have seen last night, she would be proud of you too. I wish I had more time to talk, to tell you more about Sophie, but unfortunately it will have to wait. We will be in touch, Maia.”

Maia watched him turn and leave through the door. She did not quite understand why she felt so spent and so carefree at the same time. She had found someone who had known her mother, who thought highly of her.
But what difference does that make? It does not absolve Sophie of any of her crimes, and yet . . .
Maia walked back absentmindedly to the bed and sat quietly on its edge, trying to fathom it all.

“We did well, Maia.” Ren had sat down next to her. “We stopped them.”

“Yes, so I was told,” Maia replied, flashing a weak smile.

“And Miir is so mad at us, he practically swore at me.”

“How did he find us?”

“I don’t know.” Ren shrugged. “He showed up right after the chairman’s guards secured the place and has been here since. He was talking to the warden when I slipped out of the waiting room and came here.”

“And where’s Yoome?”

“I didn’t see her. Maybe Miir asked her to wait at the Resthouse?”

“That’s possible. He wouldn’t want another one of his charges to get involved in this mess.”

“I also heard that the chancellor will be visiting soon. He wants to have a first-hand briefing of the situation.”

“He might make us guests of honor at the Gala tonight,” Maia speculated.

“Wouldn’t that be perfect?” Ren grinned, indulging in the small dream.

Sounds of footfalls in the corridor made them look up at the door. Maia hoped it to be one of their friends and not their furious mentor. The door swung open, Yoome stepped in, and swiftly shut the door behind her.