The Fate of Ten
Page 84
“What others?” John asks.
In answer, there’s a rush of noise from all around us. All of a sudden, it seems like we’re in the middle of a crowded party. That’s because the gallery surrounding the Elders table is now completely filled with people. They’re all our age—some maybe a few years younger—and at first glance seem to come from all over the world. Many of them talk excitedly among themselves, some making introductions, others discussing the vision they just saw, analyzing the details of the Setrákus and Pittacus story. Others sit by themselves, looking nervous or afraid. A tanned boy with dark hair and a beaded necklace won’t stop crying into his hands, even though he’s being comforted by a pair of blond girls who look like they belong in a commercial for hot cocoa. The way they’re acting, it’s like these people have been sitting here the whole time and we’re the ones who just teleported into view. I guess, from their perspective, that’s exactly what happened.
Sam sits in the very first row, a surly-looking girl with a mess of braids sitting next to him. He looks right at me, smiles and mouths hey.
Then, the commotion really starts.
“Look!” screams a Japanese girl, and it takes me a second to realize she’s pointing at us.
A murmur goes through the crowd as everyone notices us sitting around the table. At first, they all talk at once, peppering us with questions that I can’t even distinguish. Slowly, the room goes quiet. A respectful silence eventually falls. These are the human Garde. I can only imagine how bat-shit insane this whole thing is for them.
And now, I realize, they’re waiting for us to explain the situation.
I look around our table. Ella is still completely spaced out. Next to her, Setrákus Ra thrashes and struggles. Adam and Five both look like they’re about to hide under the table. Even Marina is blushing and looking uncomfortable. Unlike the others, Nine grins, nodding to as many people in the crowd as he can.
“What up,” he says. A few people in the audience snicker.
Obviously, one of us needs to say something more substantive than that.
John stands up, his chair scraping loudly against the marble floor. “It’s the dude from YouTube,” I hear someone whisper, and from the other side of the room someone else says, “It’s John Smith.” John looks at all the different faces, trying not to appear overwhelmed. I see Sam flash him a thumbs-up. John takes a deep breath, then hesitates. He turns to Ella.
“Do they all, uh, speak English?”
“I’m translating,” Ella answers simply, her eyes glowing intensely.
I don’t know when the hell she learned to do that. I’m not going to question it, though, and apparently neither is John.
“Hi,” John says, holding up his hand. A few people in the crowd mutter greetings. “My name’s John Smith. We’re what’s left of the Loric.”
John walks around the table. He ends up standing right next to Setrákus Ra.
“I guess you probably saw what we saw, right? Well, that story ends with Setrákus Ra here coming back to our planet, Lorien, and massacring everyone on it. Everyone except for us.” He lets this sink in for a moment before continuing. “If you aren’t sure what that has to do with you, well, maybe you’ve noticed all the alien warships on the news? Setrákus Ra is here. He’s going to do to Earth what he did to Lorien. Unless we stop him.”
John tries to make eye contact with as many people in the audience as possible. He’s really doing the whole leader thing pretty well.
“I don’t mean we as in my, uh, friends here sitting around the table,” John continues. “I mean you and us. Everyone in this room.”
That gets the kids in the crowd murmuring. The crying Hawaiian kid has at least stopped sobbing long enough to listen, but now I see his eyes darting around for an exit.
“I know this seems crazy. It also probably doesn’t seem fair,” John continues. “A few days ago, you were leading normal lives. Now, without warning, there are aliens on your planet and you can move objects with your minds. Right? I mean . . . is there anyone here that can’t do telekinesis yet?”
A few hands go up, including the crying boy’s.
“Oh, wow,” John says. “So you guys must be really confused. Try it when you get out of here. Just, uh . . . visualize something in your house moving through the air. Really focus on it. It’ll work, I promise. You’ll amaze yourself and probably freak out your parents.” John thinks for a moment. “Has anyone developed any other powers, besides telekinesis? We call them Legacies, by the way. Anyone else . . . ?”
A guy in one of the middle rows stands up. He’s stout with a shock of brown hair and he reminds me of a stuffed animal. When he speaks it’s with a slight German accent.
“My name is Bertrand,” he says, nervously looking around. “My family, we are beekeepers. Yesterday, I noticed, um, the bees . . . they talk to me. I thought I was going crazy but the swarm goes where I tell them to, so . . .”
“What a nerd,” Nine whispers to me. “Beekeeper.”
John claps his hands. “That’s amazing, Bertrand. That’s really quick to develop a Legacy. I promise the rest of you will get them too, and they won’t all be talking to insects. We can train you how to use them. We have people that know, people with experience . . .” Here, John glances around the table. I guess we’re all going to be Cêpan now. “Anyway, there’s a reason you’re getting these Legacies, especially now. In case you haven’t figured it out yet . . . it’s because you’re supposed to help us defend the Earth.”
In answer, there’s a rush of noise from all around us. All of a sudden, it seems like we’re in the middle of a crowded party. That’s because the gallery surrounding the Elders table is now completely filled with people. They’re all our age—some maybe a few years younger—and at first glance seem to come from all over the world. Many of them talk excitedly among themselves, some making introductions, others discussing the vision they just saw, analyzing the details of the Setrákus and Pittacus story. Others sit by themselves, looking nervous or afraid. A tanned boy with dark hair and a beaded necklace won’t stop crying into his hands, even though he’s being comforted by a pair of blond girls who look like they belong in a commercial for hot cocoa. The way they’re acting, it’s like these people have been sitting here the whole time and we’re the ones who just teleported into view. I guess, from their perspective, that’s exactly what happened.
Sam sits in the very first row, a surly-looking girl with a mess of braids sitting next to him. He looks right at me, smiles and mouths hey.
Then, the commotion really starts.
“Look!” screams a Japanese girl, and it takes me a second to realize she’s pointing at us.
A murmur goes through the crowd as everyone notices us sitting around the table. At first, they all talk at once, peppering us with questions that I can’t even distinguish. Slowly, the room goes quiet. A respectful silence eventually falls. These are the human Garde. I can only imagine how bat-shit insane this whole thing is for them.
And now, I realize, they’re waiting for us to explain the situation.
I look around our table. Ella is still completely spaced out. Next to her, Setrákus Ra thrashes and struggles. Adam and Five both look like they’re about to hide under the table. Even Marina is blushing and looking uncomfortable. Unlike the others, Nine grins, nodding to as many people in the crowd as he can.
“What up,” he says. A few people in the audience snicker.
Obviously, one of us needs to say something more substantive than that.
John stands up, his chair scraping loudly against the marble floor. “It’s the dude from YouTube,” I hear someone whisper, and from the other side of the room someone else says, “It’s John Smith.” John looks at all the different faces, trying not to appear overwhelmed. I see Sam flash him a thumbs-up. John takes a deep breath, then hesitates. He turns to Ella.
“Do they all, uh, speak English?”
“I’m translating,” Ella answers simply, her eyes glowing intensely.
I don’t know when the hell she learned to do that. I’m not going to question it, though, and apparently neither is John.
“Hi,” John says, holding up his hand. A few people in the crowd mutter greetings. “My name’s John Smith. We’re what’s left of the Loric.”
John walks around the table. He ends up standing right next to Setrákus Ra.
“I guess you probably saw what we saw, right? Well, that story ends with Setrákus Ra here coming back to our planet, Lorien, and massacring everyone on it. Everyone except for us.” He lets this sink in for a moment before continuing. “If you aren’t sure what that has to do with you, well, maybe you’ve noticed all the alien warships on the news? Setrákus Ra is here. He’s going to do to Earth what he did to Lorien. Unless we stop him.”
John tries to make eye contact with as many people in the audience as possible. He’s really doing the whole leader thing pretty well.
“I don’t mean we as in my, uh, friends here sitting around the table,” John continues. “I mean you and us. Everyone in this room.”
That gets the kids in the crowd murmuring. The crying Hawaiian kid has at least stopped sobbing long enough to listen, but now I see his eyes darting around for an exit.
“I know this seems crazy. It also probably doesn’t seem fair,” John continues. “A few days ago, you were leading normal lives. Now, without warning, there are aliens on your planet and you can move objects with your minds. Right? I mean . . . is there anyone here that can’t do telekinesis yet?”
A few hands go up, including the crying boy’s.
“Oh, wow,” John says. “So you guys must be really confused. Try it when you get out of here. Just, uh . . . visualize something in your house moving through the air. Really focus on it. It’ll work, I promise. You’ll amaze yourself and probably freak out your parents.” John thinks for a moment. “Has anyone developed any other powers, besides telekinesis? We call them Legacies, by the way. Anyone else . . . ?”
A guy in one of the middle rows stands up. He’s stout with a shock of brown hair and he reminds me of a stuffed animal. When he speaks it’s with a slight German accent.
“My name is Bertrand,” he says, nervously looking around. “My family, we are beekeepers. Yesterday, I noticed, um, the bees . . . they talk to me. I thought I was going crazy but the swarm goes where I tell them to, so . . .”
“What a nerd,” Nine whispers to me. “Beekeeper.”
John claps his hands. “That’s amazing, Bertrand. That’s really quick to develop a Legacy. I promise the rest of you will get them too, and they won’t all be talking to insects. We can train you how to use them. We have people that know, people with experience . . .” Here, John glances around the table. I guess we’re all going to be Cêpan now. “Anyway, there’s a reason you’re getting these Legacies, especially now. In case you haven’t figured it out yet . . . it’s because you’re supposed to help us defend the Earth.”
