The Starchild Read online

Cloudy disappointment filled my face as I stood there for a second to contemplate my choice of words to him.

  “Sorry, man. But I didn’t get it.” I told him without warning–surprising both mom and my brother at the same time.

  “Why not?” My mother wanted to know while she was cutting up some yellow peppers and adding the mix of greens and head lettuce into a large ceramic brown bowl.

  Trell asked the very same question in return–clearly devastated by the news. And disappointed as well–from what I could see.

  I rubbed the top of his head affectionately in return.

  “There will be another time, Trell.” I told him flat out.

  My brother was not happy with that idea at all.

  “Man…” he complained out loud. “Now what am I supposed to do?”

  I smiled wolfishly. “Start another project. You have at least dozens of them in progress in that giant room of yours–right?”

  Trell could see that I had a valid point there.

  “Yeah, but I was going to surprise you, Sis. It was supposed to be a late birthday present to you.”

  My heart dropped a little upon hearing that news.

  “A birthday present?” I repeated in open shock. ‘When did you find the time–or money–to be getting me a present?”

  “Your brother has been saving up his unused credits for the past nine months.” My mother informed me then. “He really wanted this to be special on your 18th birthday.”

  Now I really felt like total shit here.

  I glanced over at my shorter brother and said helplessly: “There wasn’t anything I could do, Little Brother. This was Calis’s call. And because of what happened with the storm coming in, I literally didn’t have any time to grab anything important for the house on the way back.”

  My brother quietly chewed on my words for a couple of minutes. Then he said, “I suppose I can show you what I made for you.”

  “It wouldn’t be much of a present if you went and did that.” I tried to reason with him. But my brother–being who he is–?

  Was dead set against my suggestion.

  His face lit up then.

  “It’s okay! I can show it to you! It’s almost finished!” He exclaimed with delight. Then he practically grabbed my hand without warning and literally dragged me towards his room across the upper landing of the living room itself.

  Flinging open his poster covered door, he let go of my hand abruptly and went over to his lit work table and bench in the back of the room and pulled off a makeshift yellow tarp which was covering something mighty important.

  And apparently–?

  Secret too.

  At least in the eyes of my brother whom wanted to win the favor of his eldest sister.

  “See?” He told me–pointing to something that I thought was just an overworked figment of my imagination. But it wasn’t.

  This thing was real.

  And it left me in a state of complete shock.

  “Little Brother…” I breathed in awe. “How did you–? I mean when did you manage to find the time to build me a fuel pump converter? Do you know how hard it is for me or even Calis to acquire such a piece of tech like that?” I said, still amazed by the literal genius that was my younger brother.

  Trell pointed to some engineering schematics that he had taped on the wall for reference.

  “It wasn’t that hard, Sis.” He explained in an excited rush. “I just followed John Carson’s advice and worked up an even better solution using an old dynamic flow regulator and power charger and I did the rest using the spare parts I’ve collected for the past couple of years right here in my bedroom.”

  I looked at the fuel pump converter again–not wanting to believe my eyes. This thing could literally supercharge my Viper X-1 in a heartbeat if I wanted to.

  But this piece was highly illegal and not sanctioned by the Committee over at the Devil’s Playground. No modifications could be made without their expressed approval.

  Not even for this.

  Licking my lips, I had a momentary–if not brief–image of Donald Dorgan eating my dust at righteous velocities. It would take away the sting of pain I still felt on occasion by having lost to him by mere inches across the finish line.

  Shaking my head, I took a deep breath and released it.

  “Little Brother…this is something else. And quite possibly the best present you could ever give me on such short notice.” I told him sincerely–taking note of the empty space that connected the device to its own select power cell.

  “But I can’t use it.”

  My brother’s overall excitement of showing off his latest project to me popped like a balloon and his face fell as a result.

  “Why not? I won’t tell. I promise.”

  I chuckled to myself in response to his deviously wonderful mind.

  “It’s not that simple,” I tried explaining right off the bat. “I’ve been racing since I was twelve. And as an auto-frame pilot, there are rules I have to abide by to the letter. I can’t break them. Not even for this wonderfully creative gift you made for me.”

  “Because you’ll get fired?” My brother guessed off hand.

  I gazed at him with sisterly affection. “Something like that. Now do you really want me to do something that illegal and risk lose my racing license over?”

  Trell shook his head.

  “No.”

  “Then why don’t you take this and put it on the shelf in your closet. I’ll still get you a power converter for it, but it has to stay here. In this house. Undiscovered.”

  My brother hesitated for a second, then nodded. “You would’ve liked it, Sis.” He said sadly.

  I went over to him then and drew him into a hug.

  “Little Brother…you did absolutely nothing wrong. It’s the thought that counts. I’m sure you’ll come up with something else to wow me or mom with. You always do. You’re one smart cookie. So don’t give up, okay?”

  Trell nodded, before breaking away from me and going over to the fuel line converter. I gave it one last cursory glance and sighed.

  It would have done wonders for my machine. I thought inwardly–kicking myself in the process. But the Committee rules were the rules.

  I watched him wrap the thing up in see through plastic and then tape it off.

  Then he walked over to his large stand in closet, turned on the light, got on the step stool and placed the thing on the top shelf with all the rest of his half-finished projects.

  Watching him do this brought a bit of pain to my heart, but I knew it was the right thing to do. I was not against anything he did. I just didn’t want to lose my license–especially considering that I was the only one in the house that was bringing in any semblance of a stable income on an annual basis.

  Mom was drawing a salaried pension from dad’s old job in Hallis. But the money she got every month was just enough to keep the house going.

  Forget about how to feed two ravenous kids! I thought with some unforeseen guilt on my part.

  I quietly left my brother’s room and went back to the kitchen to help my mother with dinner. But in that moment, I completely forgot about what I had in my pack until mom asked me how my day went.

  That’s when I remembered.

  “Shit!” I breathed with frank embarrassment, dropping the knife on the kitchen counter and running back into the hallway for my pack.

  Bringing it back with me, I dumped it into the empty chair at the foot of the table–dad’s old spot from long ago–and unzipped it.

  I took out the few things that Calis gave me, set those on the table–along with the canister of pasta that I was going to hand over to my brother Trell.

  “Be right back.” I promised my mother–grabbing a fork from the utensil tray and disappearing into the living room. I knocked on my brother’s door for a few more seconds until he answered.

  “Here.” I said, placing the items of interest into his outstretched hands.

  “From me and Calis.”
/>
  Trell took my gifts and asked: “What is it? Something to eat?”

  “Pasta rigatoni and meatballs. Real meatballs.” I said with a wink.

  Trell’s face broke into a winning smile. “My favorite!”

  I grinned. “I know. Enjoy.” I told him warmly. Then I reached out and closed the door behind him and went back into the kitchen to resume what I was doing earlier.

  But mom being mom, she found the things I had laid out on the table and was examining each of them with intense interest.

  “What are you doing in possession of these, honey?” My mom inquired.

  I rescued the folder and the plastic bag with the pass cards from her. The drawstring bag that held my credit chips sat undisturbed for the moment.

  “Calis gave them to me, mom. He wants me to go on a trip.”

  My mother looked at me in that instant–a look of concern on her face.

  “What could possibly be needed that would require a red pass card? I’ve only seen those a few times in my life–once with your dad and of course, twice with Calis. And if you’re in possession of one, that can only spell bad news.”

  I sighed and took a seat at the table. I gestured for her to do the same–which she did reluctantly.

  “I don’t know if what’s going on is bad new, mom. It’s pretty much up in the air on that front. But Calis has asked me for a personal favor–as his student and star pupil–and I said yes.”

  “You mentioned a trip.” My mom reminded me with a small nod of her head.

  “Where…exactly?”

  I cut to the chase and laid all of my cards–figuratively speaking–on the table.

  “Stratos City.” I revealed in that one moment.

  My mother’s expression was unreadable in that instant. Then I saw the color slowly drain from her face as she went into perpetual shock over the news.

  “No!” She finally said in clear dismay. “Anywhere but that place!”

  “Mom…” I managed to get a word out. But she wasn’t in a giving or listening mood.

  “I am not losing you like I lost your father! I won’t stand for it!” She practically screamed at me.

  I mean really…screamed at me. So loud in fact that my ears hurt from the experience.

  I winced in pain and held up a hand in supplication.

  “Mom…calm the fuck down, okay? This isn’t as bad you think it is.”

  My mother took that as a personal challenge to our family honor.

  Not too mention our past reputation.

  “Do I need to remind you time and again why we are not the most well liked family anywhere on that space complex, Isis Marie McGowan?”

  I stared at her for a second in complete surprise. “You haven’t called me by my middle name since grandma died.”

  “That’s because Marie is your grandmother’s maiden name–you crazy girl! I named you after her. In her memory no less. Do you know that she carried the same level of guilt I did her entire life because she felt responsible for what happened one hundred years ago at Caldera Base?”

  “I know. She told me about it countless times while I was a little girl–so I wouldn‘t forget. And I haven‘t.”

  “She was twenty years old on the anniversary of that incident which practically turned the tide in our favor–after a long and bloody standoff which lasted for fifteen years previous!” My mother stabbed at me from close range.

  I had never seen her this angry before in my life. Not even once.

  But now…?

  I was seeing a side of her that rarely–if ever–came out into the open.

  And it was all because of the guilt which ate into her like it had been eating into me all this time. Because of what Michael and Mira McGowan did to save the rag tag forces that were almost decimated by the might of the Praetorial Guard in those days during the Three Hundred Years War.

  We desperately needed a win to rally the settlers and we got one.

  But at a cost.

  Our good name was forever blown and permanently sullied by orders of the Senate. Infamous to the core. None of us could show our faces to the public for a time because everyone in the space complex and on the surface knew what we did to save the planet from fucking genocide.

  My ancestors suffered humiliation and eventually…opened ended discrimination because of it.

  I remember from my own family history how we had to go to ground and change our names so that we could all eke out a modest living.

  But that only went so far. In the end, my family’s crimes of desperation caught up with us. In one form or another.

  And one hundred years could not change the hatred that sky dancers in Stratos City felt towards us because of this one remarkable victory which practically saved us all and rewrote the history books.

  But looking at my mom and reading her anger and seeing her rage…? I started to wonder if I made a critical mistake by simply accepting the old man’s offer?

  “Mom…that was a long time ago.” I finally said in a moment of clarity.

  “It does not matter!” She railed at me. “Your grandmother, Marie Ellen Foster-McGowan had to live with the humiliation of that anniversary! She could not have a normal life until about thirty years ago when they finally purged those damned laws and edicts off the books–which had been targeting anyone with our last name–even if they were not related!”

  I nodded sympathetically of my deceased grandmother’s plight.

  “Mom…breathe.” I tried to encourage her.

  She actually stopped yelling for a second to blink and then looked at me owlishly. In the same manner I did with Calis back at the workshop no less.

  “What did you just say?” She hinted dangerously. “Did you just tell me to breathe?”

  I nodded. “Yep.”

  “I should slap you for that comment.”

  I chuckled. “Go ahead. I’m feeling like strangling you too–for yelling at me.”

  My mother paused in that moment and just gazed at me intently. I returned the favor for a few moments more before looking away.

  “I’m sorry. I am.” I apologized up front. “I shouldn’t have said anything to you about the trip.”

  “If I hadn’t known, you would have gone anyways. And for what? Risking possible jail time for whatever crazy fool errand Calis has you going on? You know the Senate is looking for any excuse to throw either of us in prison–right? Your father’s trial was proof that.”

  “But I was told by Calis–and just by you a few seconds ago–that the laws were changed. The edicts were expunged…?”

  “On a case by case basis, honey.” My mother revealed at last.

  I blinked on that bit of unwelcome news.

  “You mean…they could still…I could be jailed for whatever reason they see fit?”

  My mother nodded in quiet misery. “Now you’re catching on. Your father was in prison for a crime that wasn’t entirely his fault. But they needed a scapegoat. And so they cooked up a story which fingered him as the guilty party–without evidence–and sent him off to the main prison up in the space complex.” She told me flat out.

  “Because he’s the great-grandson many times removed of Michael McGowan? My great-uncle of the same?” I said.

  “Two families separated by time. Yours and his. That’s why he’s in prison and I’m not, Isis. I only married into this family and took his last name out of respect. But he knew–as I did–that any children I gave him would be cursed all the same. That’s why I worried about you and your brother greatly–because he’s in the same boat as you two are presently. Though, he doesn’t know why. I’ve kept that hidden from him all this time to protect him.”

  “Because if something happened to me–?” I muttered with dawning realization. “He would be safe.”

  My mother nodded. “That’s why I went to great lengths to protect and shield him, sweetie. Why I discouraged any possible notions that he go and become a rebel–like you’ve become recently–for the cause and get himsel
f caught up in the same storm that has consumed you, your father and everyone else in this sad history of our family’s lineage.”

  I laughed somewhat over my mom’s embellishment of me.

  “I’m not that much of a rebel.”

  My mom stared at me then. “Oh, yes. You are.” She confirmed uneasily.

  “You’re just like your father in every way: Stubborn, thickheaded, driven to extremes, competitive, confrontational–?”

  I got the point.

  “Okay,” I admitted openly. “So I am a lot like dad as I was growing up. That’s not a bad thing. I practically worshiped the ground he walked on every day of my life for the first six years I was alive. And walking. But it’s been twelve years since he was imprisoned. We both know he may not be alive now–right? Especially since we haven’t gotten anything on his current status from the Parole Committee in the past several years?”

  Maye nodded slowly. “I know. I’ve read the transmission packets. I know what they say. And what they mean.” She told me up front.

  “Which is why I am imploring you not to follow in his footsteps. For my sake. Okay?”

  I stood there and nodded finally. That was going to be a hard promise to keep–if what Calis told me was right on the money.

  The world was going to need a new savior. They were going to need the legendary Starchild of Ancient Lore.

  And I was going to make sure that happened. One way or another.

  “I’ll try.” I told her–keeping what I was thinking at the moment to myself.

  ~11~

  The old adage be careful what you wish for became my dream montage for the night–as I dreamed that I had been successful in my pursuits of finding whatever it was that Calis wanted me to search for up at the Stratos City space complex.

  But things got really tense and nightmarish after that when I found myself floating in space and falling back to Earth in slow motion–while trying to claw my way up to safety and security and failing miserably as a result.

  In a few short seconds, my whole body exploded in fire while my eyes glowed with a bright blue-white light at the same time.

  I needed to save myself! I remembered screaming soundlessly into the void. But nobody was there to catch me. Not my mom. Not Calis. Not even my ghost dad who appeared in the distance and just stood there as a silent witness.