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  Epos (Maltia)

  4 November 2355

  Ethan’s 14th day on Tersain

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  I had completely forgotten about it—and it’s no surprise, really: lately I’ve had quite a few other things to deal with. Thinking about it now, though, Dawn’s family seemed to care an awful lot about that metal case. And now there it is, in front of the captain, as if it played a relevant role in… well, whatever’s about to happen.

  Or maybe it’s just a container that looks like the one we took from Cyrus Sanders’ island?

  Hmm… sounds like an unlikely coincidence.

  “Be aware that we are about to reveal to you information of great importance, which must remain strictly between us,” says the leader of the Epos. “We are placing immense trust in you… perhaps more than caution would advise. You’d do well not to betray it.”

  Strange… until not long ago, they thought I was a spy, and now they suddenly want to share top-secret intel with me?

  If this is some sort of test, I’m not sure I want to take part in it: there’s a real risk I could lose the respect I’ve managed to earn so far. Still, I end up nodding and listening to what follows.

  “This is an object we wrested from the Republic about a month ago,” the captain explains. “Cyrus Sanders lived on the fragment where you met him: there he performed minor tasks, such as giving shelter to our passing comrades and monitoring the region. We’re talking about an area the Republic forbids access to, due to its proximity to the Coal Archipelago—an important source of fossil fuels.”

  So far, so good.

  “For logistical reasons, our comrades who seized the object couldn’t deliver it to us right away, so they left it with Cyrus to keep safe until we could retrieve it. Later, Antony and Samuel brought it here, where we’ve had the chance to study it.”

  Martin Young opens the case, revealing its contents: resting on a soft cushion is a golden spheroid, possibly made of metal, carved with fine grooves and encircled by rings reminiscent of Saturn’s. It’s roughly half the diameter of a football.

  I move closer to get a better look at the artefact. While I can appreciate its elegant yet rugged craftsmanship, I really can’t work out its function.

  “It’s a map,” the captain states.

  You wouldn’t think so…

  I’ve seen the kinds of maps used in this world. Since the fragments are spread across various distances from Tersain’s centre, the “planet” is conventionally divided into layers and sublayers. The most basic maps are collections of charts of individual sublayers; the most advanced ones are evolved globes composed of concentric transparent spheres—each representing a layer—with the topography of fragments drawn at multiple altitudes.

  But this so-called map resembles none of those types. In fact, it doesn’t even look like the globes of Earth.

  “Ethan… I mentioned the Star Prophets to you,” says Archeos. “Now I’ll explain who they are.”

  How many preambles do they need before getting to the point?

  “In the early centuries following the Mastodonic Sundering, some entities descended upon Tersain, of whom unfortunately no details have been passed down,” the philosopher begins.

  Ah, there it is… I was starting to wonder why the aliens hadn’t shown up in this story yet. I was getting worried.

  “These beings are now known as the Star Prophets, or Darnath Itrysmta in their own tongue. They were the ones who gave Tersain its second name, Barghan, and it is said they helped its peoples to understand their new condition and to survive in the world shaped by the cataclysm. It is also said, however, that mankind later drove the Star Prophets away—or even exterminated them.”

  Archeos gestures towards the object in the case.

  “We don’t know whether these Prophets truly came from the outer void or if they were a highly advanced human civilisation that emerged only after the Fragmentation. What’s certain is that they possessed technology far more advanced than anything we have today, as evidenced by some items left behind after their departure. This is one of them.”

  The captain clears his throat to speak.

  “In the last decade, the Republic has become very interested in such relics,” he says. “The result has been a sudden surge in its technological development, thanks to the study of ancient technologies. That’s why it has become a priority for us to prevent the enemy from recovering them.”

  “So… we’re talking about archaeological finds?” I ask.

  “Something like that,” Archeos nods.

  “Ethan…” Dawn chimes in softly. “The staircase we climbed when the Republic attacked us… it’s a structure created by the Prophets.”

  Everyone turns to look at the girl. From each expression, it’s clear they’re all searching her face for any sign of distress—after all, she’s just mentioned the place where she saw her father for the last time.

  What am I doing?

  I force myself to look away. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable. I hope the others will do the same.

  Damn…

  The shadow I saw on the girl’s face refuses to leave my mind.

  “Some relics are of particular significance, but also difficult to locate,” the captain continues, putting an end to the heavy mood that has settled in the room. “The fragments are always in motion: it’s easy for the remains of buildings constructed by the Star Prophets to be now located far from where old accounts say they once stood. This map, created by the Prophets themselves, should nevertheless allow —despite the constant drift of the islands—to reach a specific artefact.”

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  After Martin Young utters these last words, everyone in the room falls inexplicably silent. Uncertain, I glance around. I don’t understand the reason for the pause: it’s as if whatever the man is referring to holds some particular significance for the others.

  Eventually, I ask timidly:

  “What artefact?”

  “Energheia,” Archeos replies. “Energy. Although we know the meaning of the name, it’s not equally clear what the object’s function is. However, espionage confirms to us that the Republic considers it highly important. That’s why we must be the ones to recover it.”

  “The map, on its own, can’t be used,” the captain asserts. “It requires a key, and we believe we know where to find it. I’ve arranged a recovery expedition, and everyone here—except for Archeos and myself—will take part.”

  “Everyone… including me?” I ask.

  Martin Young nods.

  “But… wait a second, what do I have to do with this?” I say. “I’m not a soldier…”

  “We don’t need a soldier—we need a philosopher whom Archeos trusts,” the man replies. “We’re dealing with technologies completely different from what we know, and you’re the one here with the most insight into them. One of our suspicions is that your unusual knowledge may be connected to the Star Prophets themselves. That’s why we believe you could be useful on a mission like this.”

  So that’s why Archeos mentioned them when I asked for help getting back to Earth! But they’re overestimating me… sure, I know about technologies unfamiliar to them, but still…

  Suddenly, a thought crosses my mind.

  Entities that came down from the sky, equipped with unknown technologies… could it be?

  I look at the spheroid.

  No… it doesn’t look like a device from my world.

  And yet, I still have the feeling that something good might come out of all this. Besides, if I lend a hand, they’ll start to trust me more, distancing the spectre of suspicion from myself. It’s true that this is a risk… but it’s also an opportunity.

  Damn… they believe in aliens. At this point, they might as well believe me when I say I’m not from Tersain, right?

  “Well, Ethan?” presses Archeos.

  I realise I’ve been silent for quite a while. Everyone is staring at me while I stare blankly into space. I snap out of it.

  “All right,” I agree. “When do we leave?”

  “Tomorrow morning,” replies the captain. “We’ll provide you with the equipment for the journey. You’ll only be allowed to take what’s truly essential for survival and to carry out your task.”

  As if I had any possessions worth mentioning…

  “Ethan, this is an important mission,” Archeos stresses. “I’m counting on you.”

  I nod. I’m still not entirely convinced, but I’ve already accepted the assignment.

  Really, first I think one thing, then another, and then I change my mind again…

  I feel very stupid for the inconsistency with which I’m making decisions.

  Well, damn it… it’s the situation itself that’s stopping me from calmly weighing things up the way I’d like. Of course I end up going back over my choices to confirm them.

  Antony snorts in annoyance. Something about it… perhaps the fact that it seems aimed at me… irritates me. And driven by an unusual burst of impulsiveness, I find myself saying:

  “I’ll do my best. At this point, I want to be useful… and help out where I can. Even in rescuing Cyrus Sanders, if possible.”

  Why did I say that!?

  I glance at Dawn. She looks surprised. Beside her, Samuel seems taken aback too. Even Antony flinches before blurting out:

  “Wh-what are you on about?”

  “You’re no longer considered responsible, Ethan,” his brother observes, with a half-smile. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

  “I owe him for having taken care of me and given me shelter,” I reply. “And besides, I was caught up with you in that situation…”

  “Oh, damn…” mutters Antony, placing a hand over his eyes.

  “We’ll bear that in mind,” says the captain without committing himself, exchanging a glance with Archeos, who smiles in return. “But it’s too soon for that. For now, focus on the mission at hand. After all, Cyrus was captured precisely over matters linked to it.”

  “All right,” I say.

  “Then you’re dismissed,” Martin Young concludes. “There’s no need for you to return to your usual routine duties: use the rest of the day to prepare for tomorrow. I’ll be sending someone shortly to give you the details of the departure and everything necessary for the mission.”

  The Sanders siblings and I leave the room. The two brothers immediately head off down a corridor. Dawn, however, lingers for a moment at the doorway. I watch her.

  “Make sure you’re properly prepared,” she says. “And do your best. You’ll need to be good when we go to save my father.”

  And with a faint smile, she walks off after her brothers. I remain still, staring after her, caught off guard by those words. Then I smile to myself and start walking in the opposite direction.

  Well, damn… I think, struck by a sudden realisation. Me, managing to exchange a few words with a girl I hardly know! Usually, if I try, I turn bright red and start stammering. You can tell I’m really under stress!

  – – – – – – – – – –

  Epos (Maltia)

  5 November 2355

  Ethan’s 15th day on Tersain

  – – – – – – – – – –

  For the mission, a velivus has been prepared in the Epos’s hangar. It’s a white aircraft, equipped with two side wings, one above and one below which is retracted when landing. Small stabilisation engines are mounted on each wing, supporting the main thruster positioned directly behind the fuselage. It’s a fairly modern vehicle, suitable for transporting small units and capable of sustaining aerial combat.

  Samuel and Antony are carrying out the final checks on the craft, while Dawn is outside, waiting for them to finish. She has two pistols and a pouch hanging from her belt, and on her back is secured a combat staff, which she requested specifically for the mission. Her hair is tightly bound to the sticks she always ties it with.

  The girl is looking around in search of Ethan. It’s nearly time to leave, and yet there’s still no sign of him.

  Where has he got to? she wonders with a sigh.

  A figure approaches from the edge of the room. Dawn watches it, but it takes her a few seconds to realise that it’s Ethan.

  “Oh…”

  The boy is wearing one of the typical garments of the rebels: a cloak of thick brown fabric, wrapped around him and covering him down to his boots. That seemingly unremarkable garment is like a uniform for the members of the Resistance, especially those led by Martin Young. If he’s wearing it…

  “Hi,” says Ethan with a smile.

  “Hi,” replies the girl. “That outfit…?”

  “They gave it to me, saying it’d be cold,” the boy explains, casting an admiring glance at the cloak. “It’s supposed to be pretty warm, apparently.”

  Dawn smiles. The fact that Ethan has been given that outfit is another sign that they’re starting not only to trust him, but to consider him one of their own. It’s incredible how the situation has been reversed compared to not even two weeks before.

  “This… is it a kemadra?” the boy asks.

  He’s looking at the main engine of the velivus. A bluish glow is coming from inside the thruster.

  “Yes,” the rebel nods.

  “Archeos told me about them,” says the boy. “It’s a mayeutic engine, right?”

  “That’s right,” confirms Dawn. “Looks like you’re getting the hang of things. I’m glad. Maybe Samuel can explain something to you: he’s a great pilot, and there’s no one who knows more about aircraft than he does.”

  “Are we ready?” comes Antony’s voice as he leans out from the velivus.

  At that, Ethan and Dawn climb aboard and fasten their harnesses. The boy pays special attention as he arranges the straps over his chest.

  “Are the burns not healed yet?” asks Dawn.

  “Not completely, but they’re getting there,” he replies with another smile. “One or two more weeks and they should be gone.”

  “You,” says Antony, addressing the young man.

  The boy looks at him with a frown. The eldest of the Sanders brothers does the same.

  “Setting aside your sentimental talk from yesterday, make sure you behave yourself,” he warns. “Unlike the others, I still don’t trust you. I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

  “You can spare yourself the trouble, but if you insist…” Ethan retorts.

  Without another word, Antony takes his place at the controls alongside Samuel.

  “Don’t worry,” says Dawn, noticing Ethan’s grim expression. “Did you hear him? He said he ‘still’ doesn’t trust you. That means you’re on the right track.”

  “Oh, so that’s how I’m supposed to take it?” he replies, with an unconvinced look on his face. “Well… let’s hope so…”

  The girl chuckles. Moments later, the aircraft lifts off the ground and slowly heads towards the hangar exit.

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