Snowflakes sparkled in the mid-morning air, adding to the white blanket that embraced the planet Cinla. The morning’s blizzard had dispersed into wispy clouds, and, by early evening, the heavens would be clear if not for the constant stream of citizens carried by transports of all shapes and sizes. At night, the bands of the Filmra galaxy would gleam in a moonless sky. At least, that’s what the weather app said.
Confined within the sleek crystal and metal home—the most modern design, of course—tucked away on the second floor where, if she were to make a break for it, she would have to pass the open hallway where spying eyes could catch her, Linuka Hinloé stared at the silver walls of the home office which served as her prison. No windows. A six-by-six chamber with only one ceiling light which cast a dull luster on her workstation—her lap. Her crossed legs and the green synthetic fabric of her favorite long-sleeved dress supported the foot-square crystal computer screen. The floor, polished white stone, felt quite warm due to the length of her stay. She had been abandoned in this dungeon without even a piece of furniture. No distractions, her parents had said. No opportunities for getting into trouble, her sister had said. Torture, Linuka had said.
Why did her family treat her, a seventeen-year-old, like an infant? She never did anything troublesome—at least, not most of the time.
Linuka twirled her blond hair.
She had finished biochemistry early. Astrophysics came next—more precisely—a collection of irrelevant videos about subspace trajectories, a topic made obsolete by the fact that a computer could make the necessary calculations without so much as a single human input. So, it wasn’t like she needed to learn it. After all, today was her sister’s coming of age ceremony. Why couldn’t she help with the preparations? Her mother and sister had left at the crack of dawn and were probably, right now, celebrating with colleagues. Why was she stuck here doing school work?
She leapt to her feet, her bare toes gripping the stone in frustration. Today was the biggest day in her sister’s life! Her voice bounded off the walls as she paced the tiny room.
“Fela turns one hundred,” she shook her head, waved her arms, as though defending herself before the High Council, “the day a Cinlin formally joins society. By our own traditions, my sister deserves the most brilliant ceremony!” The computer began the next astrophysics module, which she glanced at and promptly ignored. “For sixty years Fela has apprenticed at the most prestigious observatory on the planet, the Midris Tower, ensuring our security and prosperity by maintaining a close eye on the technological advances of our neighboring civilizations and investigating any spatial anomalies. And if her credentials were not sufficient, our father’s contributions to the planetary defense systems and weapons of the space fleet should allot special privileges to his daughter’s day of recognition.” The computer flashed a question about the video, and she decided it would have to wait. After all, she was on a roll. “Yes,” she said, shaking her pale finger and placing her other hand on her slender waist, “aside from the Supreme Commander, the Hinloés might be the most famous family on all of Cinla! For three centuries, since the discovery of intelligent life within our galaxy, my family has led the march to maintain the peace you all enjoy.” She smiled. Her imaginary audience shifted, and she realized she had a winning speech to serve to her father. “No one, domestic or alien, dares challenge the technology enhanced by my our family’s genius.” She could just see Hildor nodding, his green eyes beaming with pride at his accomplishments and his daughter’s wits. “The daughter of a genius should be treated better. She shouldn’t be confined to prison walls and boring classes when she could be galavanting the planet on a scientific committee,” she whirled around on her heels, “or drawing blueprints for a new crystal city, or traveling the stars gathering astronomical samples to better understand the origins of the universe—yes! I should be out there, not confined to a tiny room.”
She marched straight for the concealed door, paying no heed to the still flashing question, and pressed her hand against the hidden control panel. The house mainframe acknowledged her request, sliding open the door with a minuscule wisp of cold air. Although the artificial intelligence should have notified her parents of her escape, Linuka had long ago hacked the security program and continued to tweak the virus to overcome her parents’ many attempts to reinstate it.
A gentle breeze met her pale face as she peered into the exposed hallway. To the left and right, shafts of light spilled through the crystal roof onto the wrap-around balcony. Quartz steps sparkled as they led to the polished, white floor of the foyer below. The elegant curve widened at the base, adding brilliance to the silver and white scene.
Where’s father?
The computer chip secured in her wristband converted the neurological signal of her question into binary code, processed the request, and sent the reply directly to her brain via the nerves in her wrist.
The laboratory, answered the artificial female.
Of course. That man, genius he was, would be in the basement lost in his work even on his daughter’s biggest day. He probably had on his silver coat and his short, brown hair probably dangled as he fidgeted underneath the spikes of his spaceship.
Linuka shook her head.
She could interrupt him. He always welcomed her, permitting her to help with his work in exchange for engineering credits. His current project involved a modification to the energy barrier of the military fighter, which, if successful, would ensure Cinla never lost another pilot. His obsessive dedication had promoted him to chief engineer for the Involosrho army and, finally, Minister of Defense. That intense focus could allow her about three hours of adventure before he even thought to check on her.
And so she decided to skip school, again.
Turning right, she glided like the wind across the polished stone floor to slip into her room. A pale, gray stone slab protruded from the left wall. Serving as a bed by night and a bench by day, the rectangle currently hosted a pile of potential outfits for the evening. Torn between an elegant white robe, a glittering silver dress, or a fashionable orange mini-tunic with white pants, she had left all on display for re-evaluation after class. She would have to make sure she returned in time to give each proper consideration.
For now, she merely reached under the stone slab for her knee-high boots. Like all Cinlin cloths, the fibers were naught but raw stone and metal transformed and woven into a soft textile. Outerwear, the silver boots boasted their steel threads; the metal shone in the light to provide beauty and protection from the harsh, frozen terrain.
Donning the boots, she glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Tall and slender, she looked all too much like her mother. Six-foot two. Blue eyes. Skin almost as pale as snow. Blond hair cut just below her shoulders. A proper lady…on the outside. Inside, however, churned a blizzard. She had to get out of this dull environment and let loose all the excitement swelling within.
However, an assortment of crystals, engineering parts, and clothes presented quite an obstacle course as she wiggled her way to the open window. As the weather app had proclaimed, stray, white flakes danced in the morning light that peeked through a layer of wispy clouds to showcase the glimmering roofs of the northern residential sector. The spikes and peculiar angles of the housetops seemed to be at random, but they actually followed specific, mathematical patterns. Once, her father had taken her up in his experimental space fighter to see their full splendor. From above, the homes, offices, and factories imitated a crystal bursting from the ground in all its spiked glory, indiscernible from the naturally forming ice towers and crystal mountains. Only the constant stream of aircrafts between cities signified an occupied planet. But, it wasn’t like Cinlins were trying to hide; they had no need to hide. Out of the thousands of planets in the galaxy, two were inhabitable, and the natives of both had not yet achieved space travel. Furthermore, although intergalactic travel was possible, it was utterly impractical—even through subspace, the journey to the nearest galaxy would take over a century! Yet, the Involosrho demanded a planetary defense system.
Now, that would have been the life! An Involosrho warrior. Mastering energy manipulation for military applications. Playing with the most advanced technology for defensive and offensive strategies.
Linuka signed.
She could never be an Involosrho. Those with exceptional talent were identified and drafted into the military before the age of five. Lucky them.
Leaning out of the second-floor window, gazing on the snow-covered street and heavy flow of air crafts of all shapes and sizes, Linuka paused. What if her mother and sister returned before the ceremony? Both had already taken their decorations and ceremonial robes, but they could have forgotten something. Unlike her father, her mother would not be so amused at her sabbatical. And Fela would never let it go. True that today was their last living under the same roof, but Fela’s most consistent trait was nagging Linuka. Composed, respected, and elegant, Fela could not have been more opposite of Linuka. Though she never said it, her mother clearly wanted Linuka to be more like Fela and less of a renegade like her father. Too bad.
The old rivalry simmered again, fueling Linuka to take the leap out the window. She snatched energy from the atmosphere to catch her fall and hover over the street, gently floating down the neighborhood just high enough to avoid leaving evidence in the snow and low enough to escape the eye of the Involosrho guard; getting his attention was not an experience she wanted to repeat. And so she crept along beneath the air traffic, traversing the angled streets and intersections with care.
The fresh layer of powder shone with a brilliance that made the silver and white buildings appear to rest on a sea of light. She could imagine it from above, glistening like a genuine crystal. The equations required for the illusion were extraordinary, and understanding them presented a wonderful challenge she might undertake one day. But, for now, she just wanted to graduate from those stupid digital lessons devoid of any real human interaction.
Why couldn’t life be more like science? When she helped her father run his experiments, they seldom succeeded, but that wasn’t the point. Whether a miscalculation, a new variable, or a structural adjustment, each failed attempt helped them understand the problem a little better. That was the best part of science; failure was expected.
The last building gave way to open tundra, pulling Linuka back to the present. Accelerating as fast as possible, she summoned a thin energy shield to protect her from the increasing snowfall. Not that the snow hurt; getting wet just wasn’t her style. And, it was as close to being an Involosrho as she could get, pretending she raced against the clock on some grand adventure on an alien world. Instead of strange planets, she had to settle for the ravines. They lay northeast, past the city of Marsil, far beyond the last sign of civilization, providing ample time to enjoy the scenery and let her imagination wander.
Glimmering layers of ice and snow sparkled underneath. The straggling flurries condensed into a steady stream then a powdery cloud. Visibility vanished inside the thick snowfall, but Linuka didn’t care. With the crystal tucked against her pale wrist, the computer remained an extension of her senses, maintaining her course and overlaying her sight with a map of the terrain as she skirted Marsil and her classes.
Finally, the storm scattered into brilliant blue skies. Below, wiggling northward, shallow cracks deepened to endless miles of intricate ravines in a glorious broken pattern. Even with centuries of access to advanced technologies, no one had a legitimate hypothesis for the deformations. The surface displayed no evidence of impact from heavenly objects nor magma movement below, leaving the ravines remained as a great mystery of the planet.
A wide chasm opened below to reveal miles of pit sprawling down towards the planet’s core. Leaving the sparkling snow above, Linuka descended into the darkness. Walls of ice reflected the lingering light from above into a dull amber. As the last flicker faded, she commanded a small globe of energy to form in her hand. The sphere’s soft glow revealed a tiny ledge jutting out of the rugged wall below—her favorite bench. Settling on the smooth, black stone, the distant sunlight seemed like a remote ceiling. Ever present, ever shining, but always out of reach. Just like everything she wanted in life.
The dark stone called to her, as though it had a voice of its own. Here, in the depth of the planet, she had peace. No school work. No disappointments. No fights with Fela. Just the mystery of black stone, ice, and the tragedy that had turned Cinla into a frozen wasteland.
The ceilings of the city courts still depicted the plants and animals that had once flourished here. What would it have been like to walk on grass? To feel fur? These black walls knew. After centuries of winter, layers upon layers of snow had buried the evidence of life long before she had been born. But, here in the ravines, it seemed like yesterday. The last ember of warmth desperately clung to the depths of these ravines. Not one crystal of ice existed down here.
Before long, Linuka forgot all her problems. The intricate pattern of the rocks drew her into a different world, a world of quiet adventure. Where did each little crack lead? What secrets waited in the rock face?
She had analyzed samples. She had studied the biological residue. Though impossible, she could not help but imagine what it was like to grow up eating plants. She knew how different Cinlins were. No other biological creature survived as they did, absorbing and interacting with the constant flow of surrounding energy. They were not born that way. Children were nursed until they learned how to absorb energy on their own. Yet, if they had not adapted, if the Involosrho had not combined science and mental discipline to manipulate energy, the Cinlins would have joined the plants and animals in their frozen graveyard.
A rumble rudely shook her from her thoughts. She leapt to her feet, the light dissipating from her hand as her mind focused on the danger. Boulders broke free from the left and right to tumble into the depths below. A quick computer scan concluded the tremor was not seismic, but she didn’t want to wait around to make geological observations. Responding to her thoughts, the computer mapped an escape route, and she took to the air with precision, spinning around the falling debris to race towards the snowy sky.
The rocky chaos gave way to the cold storm that had caught up to her, wrapping her like a blanket, but the severe snowfall barely grabbed her attention. Something had caused the quake. The nearby city of Marsil could have been affected, but the computer couldn’t detect any signs of impact in the ground below. Better report the incident before something worse happened. She commanded her computer to send its scan to the planet’s mainframe, but a message from the Involosrho gripped her heart.
Cinla is under attack from a single unidentified vessel moving west from Telina. All Involosrho are at their stations. Citizens immediately enter the nearest city and report to the court for instructions.
Her heart pounded in her chest. How? Why? And today, of all days!
Her head spun. How could anything bypass the planetary defense shield? How had the Involosrho not detected the threat sooner? How was there even a threat? Who would travel centuries to attack a peaceful planet? Cinla didn’t even have any natural resources to steal!
Stop. Think.
With a deep breath, she suppressed the flood of thoughts and focused on what needed to be done. She had to get home. Her computer superimposed the route, and she wasted no time. As she sped south, the planet’s mainframe forwarded information to every computer crystal on Cinla, tracking the attack and providing instructions.
Telina had been destroyed. The invading vessel headed west, towards Maril and her. All transports had already reached the nearest city and the citizens strengthen each city’s barrier while the Involoshro assessed the capacity of the intruder.
Linuka! Her father’s deep voice cried directly into her mind. Where are you?
He must have charged upstairs to find an empty room. I’m at the ravines. I’m coming!
Don’t! Maril is closer.
But…
You heard the orders. Get inside that barrier.
She felt his fear, his desperate concern for her. Tears broke free. The genocidal ship still sped west—towards her.
Now!
Obeying her father, Linuka changed course to the nearby city. She could reach Maril in two minutes. A host of Involosrho fighter ships moved to intercept the invader.
Keep talking to me until you get there. I’m watching you. It will be okay.
Yes, Cinla’s technology was far beyond anything else in the galaxy. If it was just one ship, surely the Involosrho would defeat it quickly.
I’m almost there, Linuka replied. About a minute away.
Just keep going. You’re doing great.
I see the city, she said.
The Involosrho knows you are coming. He will let you in.
Linuka commanded her computer crystal to signal the city’s guard. Immediately, she felt the soldier’s presence in her mind, and she opened herself to telepathy. A small breach in the barrier opened for her.
One mile. The Involosrho fleet engaged the enemy. Half a mile. She was going to make it.
The energy barrier shut. Looking behind, sheer power overwhelmed her senses. She had no way to avoid the explosion. The Involosrho guard had chosen to save everyone else instead. She felt his sorrow as he left her mind.
I love you, Dad, Mom, Fela.
As she reached out to her family, she felt them cry her name as the excruciating force of the blast riveted through her body.
