Hugh Howey - Molly Fyde and the Land of Light

“I am Anlyn of the Hooo.” She swallowed and turned to take in more of the Circle. “I accept my Chair within this most esteemed Circle on behalf of Widow Dooo. I vow to put universe first, galaxy second, and myself last. I will serve, steadfast, on the thin border between Light and Dark. I will be guided by the fire of the passion in my heart and the cold calculation of my brain. Between these two extremes, I will find the truth of a good path and walk it straight.”

Several of the older Circle members and seated spectators cooed softly at the fine acceptance speech; it was one of the more traditional, ancient ones. The younger members, some of those aligned with Bodi, frowned, expecting more. Edison bristled with pride.

Bodi rose from his seat and destroyed the moment for her: “With all due respect, Lady Hooo, you’ll need to speak up to be heard.”

It was one of the few exceptions to the Center of Speak, and revenge for Anlyn’s handling of him an hour prior. Bodi’s allies panted with soft laughter.

Anlyn felt the rage pushing its way from her heart to her head, her body flushing with heat, her center falling off its line. She took a deep breath before continuing, forcing her eyes away from the safety of Edison’s and across the gathered males.

“The Circle has gathered to consider the eradication of the Humans, a decision being made as inflamed anger burns from the events of the past days. From my Chair, I will be counseling against this distraction from the true Drenard purpose.”

The laughter stopped immediately. Even the elders, proud to see Anlyn returned to her home in good health and taking a temporary seat on the Circle, seemed displeased.

“One cycle ago,” Anlyn continued, “the first Human to become a Drenard left our planet. There was much hope that the prophecy of the Light Seer would come true. When it didn’t, this very Circle ringed to consider the fate of the Humans. One of my uncles used to speak of that debate, of the constant swings from fire to ice. He was always glad that temperate heads prevailed.

“I am young, I know.” Anlyn looked up into the audience, her hand on her chest. “I do not feel it, but I can see it on your faces: I am young, I am female, and I am royalty. Any side of this triangle is enough to cast doubt. All three will have each of you counting the radians to the next election. But know this: I have spent over a year of my life held captive by the worst sort of Human. Despite this, I have seen what good can come of them. The one that you consider a threat? She is my friend. I have seen her Wadi Queen, and the rumors are true. I will do everything I can from my Chair to protect her people as she has promised to do everything she can to help ours.”

She paused while the whispers grew, rumors of Molly and her Wadi crackling, spreading like a fire. Anlyn gave them a moment while she watched the Light of Turn move closer to her seat. She lifted her eyes from the Circle and swept them over the large crowd; her entire body followed, spinning in place, as if taking them all in, even as the light from Hori I made it impossible to see very far into the shadows.

“Our empire has moved to the darkness,” she told them, and coos of discord swept the gathered. She raised her voice. “It moved to the darkness as we relied on the Seer’s prophecy to light our way. It moved to the darkness when that light never came. And now we feel the urge to throw ourselves into the fire, eager to kill or be killed because we’ve grown frightened of the dark.

“I came here today to urge restraint.” She placed one of her fists in the palm of her hand. “A few of our true enemy, posing as Humans, have sown anger in your hearts. Some of you wish to eradicate them all, pushing throughout the galaxy and exterminating our neighbors. I come here to—”

“You come to urge NOTHING! ” someone yelled from the audience. There were coos of surprise, the rumble of thousands turning in their seats. Blue tunics descended from the balcony as those seated near, moved away from the man, who continued to protest.

“We’ve tried nothing already!” he yelled. “We’ve tried restraint! We want WAR! ”

The guards in blue seized the figure, pulling him up the aisle.

His tirade continued amid a growing chorus of nods and whispers.

Whispers growing to shouts.

The conversation Molly was having with Cole stopped—his thoughts removed from her head and replaced with pain.

Molly shrieked and slapped at her helmet, fumbling for the clasps. Her brain wailed with the same white noise and painful light she’d felt on Dakura. She couldn’t find the release clasps, so she shook her gloves free, feeling with her bare hands around the back of the smooth shell. As soon as she clicked them loose, she shoved her helmet up and tore the band off her head.

The noise went away immediately, leaving just a resonant hum in her skull. Remnants of the white light remained, however. She tried to blink the haze away, looking over at Walter to focus on something.

The Wadi flicked its tongue out from the back of the nav chair, scared clear across the cockpit.

“What’ss wrong?” Walter asked, recoiling away from her.

“I—I don’t know. I was talking to Cole, and then it went haywire.”

“Lemme ssee.”

Molly handed him the band. “Be careful. It hurts.”

He lowered the band near his scalp hesitantly, like a cadet preparing to shoot himself with a stunner for laughs. Before it even made full contact with his buzzed head, Walter yelped and tossed the band to the side. The confused Wadi leapt from his seat and back to Molly’s, claws digging into worn leather.

“It’s okay,” Molly told the Wadi.

“No, it hurt like hypersspacse!” Walter complained. “Ssoundss like the middle of a sstar or ssomething!”

“That’s actually a pretty good analogy,” Molly said. “I hope we didn’t break them.” She reached for her helmet, her vision nearly back to normal.

But in the pit of her stomach, something felt empty and raw, like a hole had formed that her heart might drop down into. She stopped for a minute and concentrated on breathing, sucking in deep breaths, her chest constricted with… something.

The sensation was unique, but it stirred old feelings inside, as if she’d experienced this before. It felt like cold boredom, but deeper. The sensation of becoming lost, or just not knowing what to do next.

It reminded her of the day her dad went missing.

Molly shivered, her vision blurring again, but this time from natural causes. From tears. She grabbed the red band from Walter’s armrest and rubbed it with one hand.

Meanwhile Parsona drifted idly in the vastness of the cosmos.

Silent and alone.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Parsona said through her helmet.

Molly leaned back against the bulkhead, one of her pillows in her lap. The Wadi sat on her dresser, lapping at a saucer of juice, its eyes closed in contentment.

“I wanna jump back and check on him,” she said.

“He’s probably at his own jump-point thinking the same thing. What both of you need to do is keep heading to Lok, stick with the plan—” Parsona broke into laughter.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’m sorry, it just reminds me of your father and myself. We spent a lot of time apart with our work on Lok, and the comm towers on that planet were frightful. We were forever dropping calls and wrestling with ourselves over who should call back and who should wait. Gods, we were so in love…”

“So you think this is nothing? ’Cause it sounded just like getting disconnected from… the other you.”