This story may or may not take place in the Forsaken Stars Universe. Probably not. That said, it’s a big universe, don’t think too hard on it. Enjoy.
V7
The complex was bright, with blue stripes running along the walls and corridors. Some rooms and walls had one stripe, others had two and still others three. Vel, eleven or twelve years old in physical appearance, shared these rooms with other children between the ages of five and sixteen, of varied race, skin color and gender. Their heads were all shaved, and everyone wore white, beige or yellow tunics, and white pants or shorts. A few wore sandals, but most were barefoot. The ground was cool.
He counted about fifty-six children. Seven of them wore sashes from right shoulder to left hip. Four of them wore green sashes, two of them wore blue sashes and one wore a gold sash. His name was Dar, and he stunk of self-importance.
Vel knew he had trouble remembering all his yesterdays because of Squi, a pre-teen, pale girl who didn’t have proper control over her telepulses yet, and had showered the complex with dream static the night before. He almost didn’t mind it because it forced him to sharpen his own abilities, with recall and association games, as well as developing his own “telechrome” dome. Those who did mind were wearing ice pack helmets or foil caps today.
Vel slid his tray along the track as the meal drones plopped meat, veggie and sweets pastes into their corresponding compartments. “Oh, look, it’s the same thing we ate yesterday. And the day before that. Oh, kill me now, Vel,” his quite-large-for-his-age friend Hoyt said, pushing up at his glasses. “What I wouldn’t do for a bag of crisps.”
“This is our world now, Hoyt,” Vel said, scanning the room–the cafeteria, the word came to him–telling himself he wasn’t looking for Lysa. “Crisps, ice cream, big slabs of meat,” Vel went on while Hoyt’s mouth watered and his tongue lolled out the side of his mouth, “these culinary extremes of texture, temperature and effort draw us away from our purpose—”
“You mean our purpose is to not enjoy anything anymore?” Hoyt said, sagging.
“Our purpose, our mission—” Vel was having a hard time getting to the point.
“Our purpose, our mission,” Dar interrupted, jumping the queue to grab the last Chocomilk, illiciting a ‘you rat bastard,’ from Hoyt, “Is to align our ancient souls with our delicate new bodies, hone our abilities to razor sharp mind-blades or reality-warping ribbon whips or city-leveling thought bombs, and become mighty warriors to one day soon confront the ruthless space whales known as the ORGA and take back the galaxy that, for millennia untold, was once ours. Blah, blah, blah.”
Vel wanted to punch Dar in the face. He had, after all, been eyeing that Chocomilk for himself. Instead, he said, “You don’t believe the Recorder?”
“Neither here nor there, Vel, was it?” Dar asked, Vel nodded. Dar continued, “I don’t care. We are here, we don’t recall much from before we were placed in these crude things,” he poked and prodded at Vel’s not very intimidating chest, “and we are likely far removed from said galaxy or its conflicts.”
“The ORGA could find us,” Hoyt said.
“If they were looking,” Dar said. “As far as the Recorder has told us, we were launched a thousand years ago, we crashed here, and the plan only began unfolding in earnest a few days ago. Do you understand, tubbo, we didn’t exist until a hundred hours ago.”
“Don’t call him tubbo. He’s sensitive about his size,” Vel said.
“How do you know? You’ve only met him yesterday,” Dar said.
“We have known each other for forever. It’s not our fault we only recall a few days of it,” Vel said, puffing out his chest a little.
Dar chugged the Chocomilk, illiciting a ‘aw, you didn’t even have the decency to enjoy it,’ from Hoyt, then proclaimed, “I’m leading an exploration party to the Great Outside. You and tubbo are welcomed to come if you’re men enough.”
“We’re not men, we’re children,” Vel said, but trailed off, “Besides, the Recorder said we weren’t to go beyond the boundary. That’s why it’s called the boundary.”
“I have the gold sash,” Dar said, “That makes me the leader. I can do what I want.”
“Leaders can do what they want, that’s true,” Lysa said, approaching, “But great leaders do what is right and necessary for the good of their people.”
“Oh, look, it’s Take the Fun Out of Everything Lysa,” Dar said.
“That doesn’t make any humorous sense,” Lysa said, “Blast, I see what you mean. Still, I’ve got a blue sash, and that means you should at least consider what I’ve got to say.”
“What if the sashes are bad?” Wyn asked. He was a small, purple-eyed boy that stood in the queue behind Vel. “Like caution tape?”
“The Recorder said the sashes represent the wisest, the most powerful of us,” Vel admitted, with the pang of defeat in his voice.
“Which isn’t to say that couldn’t change,” another girl said. Vel recalled her name was Kama. She was tall, with dark skin, and warm eyes. “Our souls may be ancient, but our brains and bodies are new.”
“Though we were cloned from the last great generation!” Pal said. Vel sensed that he’d been an old croney of Dar’s in another life.
“That’s right,” Dar said, “And our soulstuff was matched to similar human beings and their characteristics.”
“A tricky science to be sure. More art than science,” Kama said.
“Enough banter!” Dar said, trying to end the dissonance. “Whoever is with me, come to my table for lunch! Sash bearers get first seating!”
“Only to keep you from getting yourselves killed,” Lysa said and followed the crowd.
“Should we?” Vel asked Hoyt.
“Well, on the one hand, Lysa and Kama are going, and they seem nice. But on the other, we could get eaten by GIANT FLYING MEAT BITERS. So, it’s a definite no for me.”
“Right,” Vel said. “Besides, I have a fairly important appointment with a spoon later.”
“Huh?” Hoyt asked.
“A spoon. You know, bending spoons?”
“I haven’t the foggiest.”
Vel had the nagging feeling that he had been someone important. Someone special. But today, and for the foreseeable future, he was just another new kid at school. Well, at least he was in a school where all the other kids were new too.
TO BE CONTINUED IF YOU LIKE
