in one of the recumbent chairs.
“I’m fine, Mother—really,” he insisted.
He sat in the chair, nonetheless.
“What did you think of the Council meeting, Skylar?” asked
his uncle who looked rather serious. Of late, his uncle had been acting
inexplicably grave. Tonight, though, he seemed even more so.
Lasseter was the only family Skylar had beside his mother.
His uncle was sort of a father to Skylar. He had been present for all the major
events in Skylar’s life. Birthdays, holidays, his first day at the Academy, the
start of his apprenticeship at the docks—everything. But his uncle was
eccentric. Everyone in the Gorge knew it. And the older Skylar grew the more it
bothered him, the more he wished he didn’t have an uncle who lived secluded in
some secret desert cave; an uncle who didn’t always go about in the unforgiving
Haladrian sun cloaked and hooded, like a bandit in disguise.
Lasseter wore the cloak even now, as he waited for Skylar to
reply. His piercing green eyes were fixed intently on Skylar. They were the
same eyes Skylar had.
“It was very...interesting,” replied Skylar, stealing
Rolander's observation.
“Indeed,” said his uncle. “Yes, some might call Arturo’s
report interesting. I would not.”
“How is that, Uncle? Were you there?”
“No,” he replied, and went on without giving any
explanation. “These insects of which Arturo informed the Council…,” he paused,
the expression on his face becoming even graver. “You must stay away from
them.”
“But they aren't on Haladras.”
“They will be,” he said, as he abruptly stood and pulled the
hood over his face.
“How do you...do you know what they are?”
Lasseter had already turned and was making his way for the
portal. He paused briefly and said over his shoulder, “They are dangerous. That
is all you need to know.” Then he slipped out into the darkness.
Skylar sat staring at the portal, baffled.
“Well, that was odd—even for Uncle Lasseter,” said Skylar to
his mother, who he hoped would offer some sort of explanation. “What makes him
so certain that they’ll appear on Haladras? Does he know what they are?”
“I don’t know, Sky,” she said, sighing in exhaustion. “But I
think you should listen to your uncle. If you see them, do whatever it takes to
stay away from them.”
Skylar decided not to mention what Rolander had said about the
insects actually being machines.
The next day Skylar returned to the Academy. It had taken
some persuasion to convince his mother that he was well enough to make the walk
across the Gorge by himself. She had only reluctantly agreed after he told her
that he couldn’t afford to get behind in astrophysics. Which was not entirely
untrue. Though, he doubted an extra day or two would put him too far behind.
The truth was, he wanted to go. He hated to be home all day with nothing to do.
When he arrived at school that morning, he quickly
discovered that news about his accident at the docks had spread through the
entire Academy. Classmates he had never talked to before, both senior and
junior, swarmed around him like vultures to a carcass. Questions shot at him from
all sides. Dizzied by the swirl of interrogation, he mumbled out a few
unsatisfactory answers and tried to push free of the crowd, toward his lecture
hall.
“That’s enough! Off to class, now,” cried a shrill voice
that no one at the Academy could mistake. “Break up this mob. All of
you...off.”
It was Professor Meese, the headmistress.
The crowd dispersed as quickly as it had assembled. No one
wished to be singled out by the strict disciplinarian.
Skylar, too, had no wish to be loitering in the hall. He turned
to retreat with his fellow classmates. But that same voice halted him in
mid-stride.
“Mr. Lancewright?” she said commandingly. “Mr. Skylar
Lancewright.”
Skylar turned around to face her.
“Come with me,” she said, turning on her heel and striding
briskly toward her office.