Celestial Spheres
Part Two: Can I Fly
Ant Ryan
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Copyright © 2015 by Ant Ryan
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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[email protected] Trial Poem
Sky-dragons fly high, filling humans with fright,
The Scient all-knowing and kept out of sight,
The Potent have Power, yet prevented from height,
The Present transport through space and time,
The gods are kind, but punish all crime,
My Trial is coming, I must impress them with flight,
Celestial Spheres balance the dark with the light.
Every time I manage to use my powers, nobody looks. They stare through me. But when I fail, they all notice.
“He’s only a young boy,” they say. “Who cares about a novice Potent? We’re god-like compared to him!”
Will they notice me at noon, during my flying ability examination at the Adolescent Trials? I hope so.
I put on my black sky-suit, which will prevent forbidden use of technology during the test. Dad used technology, before he was banished.
Waving goodbye to mother and my infant brother Darik, I take one small step on the long road from breast toward adulthood. A path set from birth for my kind.
Leaving our single roomed cave-hut, I walk along the dusty track to school. Fresh air mixes with pungent fog from the ore-mines. I may require a respirator if it gets much worse. At least I have the luxury of one, unlike the group of mindless human miners that pass me. Their paler skin and lighter eyes is a sign of their lower position in society.
Walking is inefficient. I pity my human cousins for relying on it. I dream of the day I can drift with elegance through clouds, into the starry sky. I wish we were allowed to explore further into the Universe, beyond our Celestial Spheres. But today is a start, today I can show my potential to the teachers, so I may be certified to fly the lower skies unchaperoned.
The fog clears. I arrive at the tall crystalline building which pierces the uneven stony ground, framed by the burning spices of ceremonial fires. My examiners greet me. A group of six teachers from another school, in crisp red judge’s gowns – seasoned warriors passing on their ancient skills, their formality is intimidating, but predictable.
Practice at school and holographic simulations at home as part of my initial training, taught me what to expect. But as I stand on the carved triangular marker, their experienced faces cancel out my confidence and my recollection of how to fly evaporates. After all these years waiting, I am doing this, I have the audience I always craved, but it frightens me.
Distant stringed music, which could sooth under other circumstances, distracts me; I must focus. But the more I try to ignore the gentle tones, the harder they penetrate into my head.
“Ready young one?” a vibrant, dark skinned Potent Lady says.
I nearly jump in shock. This feels rushed now.
“Show us you are controlled and capable. Whether you are ready to progress to full training? Now fly!”
Heat from the binary stars makes sweat run down my brow.
I may be afraid, but I will not allow this chance to pass. The thought of missing out makes me angry. I can use anger.
Teeth gritted, I squeeze my hands, tightening the muscles in my arms. The last time I tried, I fell in an instant.
I stand tall, holding my chest up, shoulders back. Lifting my knees toward my stomach, my body holds – feet aloft, I hover above the ground. I remember what to do, what to think. Excitement of the occasion fuels me. I sense optimism in the air, my own, perhaps my audience’s too. I hope they are pleased. One more squeeze and I should move upward. I am so proud, particularly with them watching.
“Pitiful boy,” a large, male Potent Master shouts. “You’re a bone sack, with an ugly, pale, dumb face. You look like a human. I could miss eating for a year and still be larger than ten of you. Fall on your ass, weak child.”
I drop, unsure whether he is using Potency on me, or is it his discouraging and distracting words? I must stop the descent. Maybe this is part of my test.
Closing my eyes to concentrate as I near the hard stone floor, every cell in my body wills me into flight. I slow, but continue downward, giving the ground a gentle brush with my bare feet. Relief is replaced by rage which builds inside me. I process these antagonising words. I will show him.
Shaking in rage, I rise once more. I climb faster, feeling stronger the higher I go; above my standing height and greater still, higher than our cave-hut. I soar further, above the ten storey school building. I’ve never been this high before; even without an audience. I leave the group of Potent judges far below me on the war-damaged sphere. They become tiny dots and vanish. I ascend. The rugged landscape dotted with the rich’s symmetric buildings, like gems amongst the poor’s globular huts, similar to ore from the mines.
I ride the air like it is a wave. At this rate I’ll soon leave our atmosphere. Not a good idea for one who hasn’t learned the full capabilities of our race. I slow my ascent and enjoy my moment, controlling my movements like a sky-dragon might. Maybe I will finally see one of the rare beasts at this height.
Long gone are my days using a child’s floatation device. I hope one day I may be all powerful, like any Potent can be, but what use is Potency. There must be more to life than limited flying, moving heavy objects and performing miracles for others. I may have all that power, but never attain the Scient people’s knowledge of all. Why can’t I have that? With their ability too, I could learn how to use our power in ways our people can’t yet imagine; ironic that the Scient, the poor souls, can barely run, let alone fly. Like us, they’re stuck on these few planets. Odd the gods, Universe or whatever it is, give the three species one magnificent skill each and not allow overlap, flaunting the unreachable other two wonders before our eyes.
The Present people have the ability to leave our part of the galaxy; free to go anywhere. With their skills I could explore the entire cosmos. Of course, they can’t do much simply being able to travel. What use is unrestricted bending of space and time if you’ve no real power or knowledge?
Here and now though, I feel unlimited. I’m free like a Present Lord, the happiest and most fulfilled I have been, for as long as I can remember. Nothing can stop me.
But with a flash of light, the same Potent Master who insulted me earlier appears by my side. “Slow down, boy. You have proven yourself. Your powers work. You’re not supposed to go this high, just display control.”
Obviously! “I am in control, but I want more. I want all the skills. I want Knowledge and Presence too.”
We slow to a steady hover.
“Words like those lead to war and upset the gods, boy.” He grinds his teeth. “We are finally at peace. Not so much as a crossed word with our neighbours in years.”
He grabs me by the neck.
As I notice the pain of his heavy-handedness, we’
re back on the ground, next to the other adults. Did we fly or was it instant? I can’t tell. It was so fast. I think I felt air rush past me at speed. Potent powers are subtle when you’re on the receiving end.
“One such as you could spell trouble for our existence,” he says. “If the Scient get wind of your sort emerging again, they could form an alliance with the Present to match our power. They would wreak havoc on us before we knew it.” He has concern in his eyes. “Your ambition is genuine and passionate, but too much passion – desiring other’s skills, can be dangerous in our society. This cannot be tolerated.”
“My sort?” I can kind of understand why a teacher would discourage my desire for other skills. At least he thinks I’m passionate, but I shouldn’t have opened my big mouth. With his numerous skin markings I assume he is quite religious, just my luck to get a relic of the wars for a judge. He must think I have narcissistic delusions of being an actual god. The only kind said to hold all the abilities; yet they are never seen. No, not me, I shall walk tall among others, not hide from those below me. At least I have been noticed today, my displayed power must have impressed the teachers? That’s the whole point. It is power that separates us from humans. Without the darker skin tones and better clothing I wouldn’t know the difference between the three Able species and our backward cousins. So, I’m sure flying so high, so quickly, where even a master had to physically ground me was a decent display of Potent ability.
Next I should learn how to make others disappear. A certain Potent Master might be first on my list.
“You yearn to explore the Universe and know more, boy?” He interrupts my fantasy. Volume rising. “You wish to see what can happen when all three powers combine and we act like gods? So be it.” He joins hands with the two nearest to him. I didn’t notice earlier, but one has the skin markings of a female Scient… Is the other a male Present?
I’m in trouble. There is a strange warmth inside me and a sudden flash of light.
My vision blurs and refocuses onto dusty grey soil beneath me, but I can’t feel the texture against my bare feet. I am in a transparent synth-skin spacesuit. Have they used that Present’s ability to send me to the barren and airless moon of the Deserted Sphere? If gods exist, they are said to dwell in the nightmarish place and would surely punish me for my so called over-ambition? But such deities are simply a Scient invention to control humans, Present and Potent, I think.
It isn’t a god, but this spacesuit which is keeping me alive. Yes, my black sky-suit is visible through it. I used a similar respirator-suit to this to train for the Trials. They’re clever pieces of technology, without which I wouldn’t survive a moment on this sphere. No atmosphere surrounds me, only blackness of space and our yellow star reflecting against the desolation of rocks and dust.
The Potent can’t break their own rules and leave me for dead. They must be teaching me a lesson, that’s all. How long will this lesson last?
I might as well explore, I can’t let them see any fear in me. I take a step, but as I lean, my whole body leaps further than I anticipate, diving forward with little resistance. Not like using my flying ability, more like a feather.
I am light not strong, an unfamiliar sensation. Must be less gravity; flying should not be a problem. I try to control my direction with Potency, but nothing happens. I have to do it manually with inelegant arm and leg movements, like a new-born Potent or worse, a human. Perhaps the teachers are inhibiting my ability; maybe it is part of my Trial.
Landing on my front, unhurt, I climb to my feet and notice light bouncing off something on the horizon.
It gets closer; the underbelly resembles a sky-dragon, judging from drawings I’ve seen. The creature breathes fire to slow its descent. It is a sky-dragon. I’m glad to be a safe distance away. But how does it breathe without air? Does it have powers like us? I use the suit’s synaptic transparency device to hide and I move further away. It is said these things eat humans, without my powers it may mistake me for one.
Another burst of fire. The myths about these animals must be true. I thought they were perhaps tales to scare children.
The beast lands on the edge of a crater, too far away to leap on me, but too close for comfort. I keep my distance. Its silvery body and gold chest complimented by the same colours on its four legs. Can it see me? It is still facing my direction; it may pounce at any moment.
I wait, too petrified to move. Is this the purpose of my punishment, to show me fear and my place in the Universe?
The creature isn’t doing much. Has it died through lack of air? It must be able to breathe or it couldn’t have travelled to this sphere; unless it has been sent like me, banished. I feel sorry for it now.
As its stillness convinces me the danger may have subsided, the dragon opens its mouth, but rather than move toward me to take a bite, a smaller creature disembarks. This isn’t a sky-dragon; it’s a spaceship.