Neron Rising: A Space Fantasy Romance (The Neron Rising Saga Book 1) Page 2

  You’re supposed to be alone in your head. Sure, your own voice might talk to you, might criticize you, or give you motivation.

  But one day, about two lunars ago, there was suddenly this other voice.

  Clear as day, I felt it there. Like a physical presence. Like somehow this little shard of ice suddenly appeared in the middle of my brain.

  “Hello?” a voice called out from it.

  I’d screamed in my bedroom as I’d been getting ready for bed. Thankfully Dad wasn’t home.

  “Are you alright?” the voice called in my brain. “Where are you?”

  “Who are you?” I demanded, searching my room for the intruder.

  But I knew. I could feel it. Him. He wasn’t in my room, or our cube. He was inside my head.

  “What are you doing here?” he’d asked. “How did you get inside my head? Who sent you?”

  “Sent?” I demanded. “How did you… What is happening?”

  It went on like this for a good hour. Demanding to know whom the other was. What we were doing in each other’s heads.

  Somehow, I shut him out.

  He was gone.

  Only to be there again a few days later. Only he was clearer. Like I could hear him better.

  And then, one morning I was getting ready for work, and I suddenly felt like I was somewhere else. Somewhere semi-familiar, but foreign. I was in his head.

  He never would tell me his name. So I had never told him mine. I didn’t know where he lived or where he was from. I had no idea what he looked like, but his voice was as familiar as my own.

  When the anxiety of having someone randomly pop into my head subsided, I found…a friend. Someone to talk to. And he, likewise.

  It became a bi-weekly tradition, to check in with one another, and just…talk.

  But now wasn’t the time, when I had all this steam burning my face and hands and arms. He’d understand if I connected later.

  It takes me an hour and a half, but I finally get the pipes fixed. An idea strikes, a way to potentially make some new pipes. Stronger ones, ones that would never break, never warp, and never leak.

  I finally get back on my feet and I slip my audobuds in my ears, and tap the circle on my connect-link that says The Black Hole of Truth.

  “Welcome back to this highly illegal episode of The Black Hole of Truth with Arden Black,” a confident female voice comes through, straight to my ears. “Today, I want to talk about something that became my obsession back in my school days. You know, five solars ago, when I still lived on Falbos.”

  I smile, because she’s so bold and brilliant. This is the most listened to spacecast in the galaxy, and the most illegal because of her content. Arden Black is constantly dropping hints about where she is and who she is; constantly teasing the authorities, daring them to find her and shut her down.

  “I want to talk about the history of the Nero.”

  I head back toward my office to do some research. But even though I’ve walked past it a thousand times before, I still stop and stare.

  I press pause on the spacecast.

  There is a core in each of the quadrants. A massive pillar that runs seven-terra levels below ground, up to the top of the building. Glass keeps it contained and amplifies the glowing blue beauty of the Neron core.

  Neron is everywhere. It’s energy. It’s life. It’s in the air we breathe, it’s in my blood, it’s in every tool I use. It’s in all of the food we eat.

  It’s also found in solid form on certain planets around the Eon Galaxy. In solid form, it can power anything. Weapons. Ships. Buildings. Entire planets. The company I work for, Horne Energy, buys solid Neron and powers every city on Korpillion.

  Our modern space travel exists only because of Neron energy.

  I might be mixed in the dealings of Neron, but for most, just the word strikes a quake of fear in the back of one’s throat.

  Because where there is Neron, there is Dominion.

  The mega company has been around for over four hundred solars. Once upon a time, it was called Dominion Blue, because Neron is blue in its natural form. But now they’ve dropped the façade of being just an energy mining company.

  They still mine Neron. But it’s gone so far beyond that.

  Dominion scouts the galaxy for planets rich in Neron deposits. Once they find one, they settle on the planet and establish a mine. They also buy up as much real estate on that planet as they can. They say they employ the locals, but it’s little more than servitude. They take over the economy. And then it isn’t long until the governments have less power than Dominion.

  They take over planets. Once Neron is discovered on yours, almost everyone will move somewhere else in the galaxy. Because no one wants to be subjected to the control of Dominion.

  They don’t care about families. They don’t care about homes. They don’t care about destroying landscapes.

  They just want the Neron. Neron makes them money. The entire galaxy is dependent on it.

  Dominion is the reason Korpillion is so over-populated. Because every other inhabitable planet in all the nearby solar systems have Neron on them. All those residents immigrated here. To a planet that supposedly has no Neron.

  Only it does.

  Thirty-seven solars ago, Reena McDyer’s father discovered Neron while working as a sewer excavator. Knowing what the discovery of the Neron would do to the planet and all of its residents, he kept his discovery from his employer and immediately quit his job. He was a poor man who was struggling to make his way in the world. I doubt he really set out to get into a life of crime, but when you’re desperate, you’ll do just about anything.

  He began dealing Neron.

  Neron can be used to power just about anything. A few shards of it can power your home for over a solar with no bills from the power company. It can serve as the firepower for weapons, like the ones I make.

  But it can also do other…things.

  Like make you see things, things like your short-term potential future. Things like what your most loved one is really feeling. It can make you sharper, quicker. It can heal you. It can even make you age slower.

  But only in small doses. Tapping into Neron for personal gain drains it much quicker than using it for energy. The effects of simply holding it are short lived.

  Unless you eat it.

  Like the Kinduri.

  To everyone but Dominion, who hold the majority of the Kinduri in their power, they are the real fear. If you see one, with their black lips, black, bleeding eyes, and skeletal forms, you turn and walk the other way.

  Because they can do things. They can make you say things. They can read your mind. It’s said they can drain your soul.

  I’ve never believed in magic, but I do know for a fact the Kinduri are cursed by the universe for so selfishly consuming what is not theirs.

  They’re terrifying and strong, and utterly effective.

  The only thing stronger than a Kinduri is a Nero.

  “Where have all the Nero gone?” Arden’s voice speaks in my ear as once more I press play. “I’ve heard there used to be hundreds of Nero in the galaxy. Maybe even thousands. Because there was once a war between them. A battle between the good and the bad Nero.”

  But almost all of them have disappeared. There has only been one born in the past eighty-seven solars.

  And he, too, is controlled by Dominion.

  Even the strongest, most fascinating and powerful being in the universe is controlled by an evil corporation.

  I look away from the Neron core as I aim for my office.

  I hate thinking about the Nero. It makes me sick. It makes me sad and angry.

  Because I think the galaxy would be a very different place if they rose again.

  The Nero can do everything that any person in possession of Neron can do, but a hundred fold. Nero are born with a connection to Neron. They don’t have to have solid Neron to have a weapon, they can pull it from the air and make a weapon of electric Neron. They can read you
r true emotions. It’s said they can read your thoughts if they are strong enough. They can move things simply by manipulating the Neron in everything. Because there is energy and life in everything. I’ve even heard they can see the future.

  The Nero are the real wizards.

  “Dominion has nearly driven the Nero extinct,” Arden says boldly. “As they’ve taken over every Neron-rich planet, fewer and fewer Nero were born. The Nero were almost always born on planets with natural Neron, but how many of those exist anymore that Dominion doesn’t control?” She pauses for a bit, and the trillions of listeners she has around the galaxy already know the answer. “None.”

  Dominion owns them all. Except Korpillion, simply because they don’t know the Neron is here.

  “What happened to Evander Nero?” Arden asks her listeners. “If there ever was a good man, it was him. The second to last Nero known to be born, he fought Dominion every day of his life. He rallied them all, and led the attack on Isroth. He may not have been successful. Cyrillius might have crushed them with his army, with the Kinduri…” she pauses, and I shake my head with her, “but we know Evander Nero escaped Isroth. We know, because he lived to give the prophecy.”

  Goosebumps flash across my skin.

  There isn’t a soul alive in the Eon Galaxy that doesn’t know the prophecy given by Evander Nero, who saw not only his own future, but that of the entire galaxy.

  “Evander Nero promised that another Nero would come,” she says. Her voice is soft, a little broken sounding, but hopeful. “Another Nero, who would be strong enough to bring the galaxy back from destruction. Another Nero who could free Neron. And we all know what that means. If Neron is to be free, it would mean the end of Dominion.”

  A cold shiver works its way down my spine.

  Another Nero was found, after Evander Nero disappeared. The last Nero in the entire galaxy.

  He could have been a savior. The only person in the galaxy powerful enough to stand up to Dominion.

  Instead, they turned him to their side, and made him their puppet.

  They turned him into a very, very bad man.

  “Where is this savior you promised, Evander?” Arden asks. “Because it certainly isn’t Valen Nero.”

  I feel sick. I feel a million pounds heavy.

  So, I pull my audobuds out of my ears and slip them into my pocket.

  I shove thoughts of magic and hope out of my head, and turn to my screens, determined to finish this research on something as boring and basic as stronger pipes.

  “Long day?”

  My eyes slide over to the tiny kitchen area as I walk through the door with a grumble. My father is there, preparing our simple dinner.

  I sigh, stepping inside and flopping down on a chair, one of two, because that’s all we can fit in this tiny space. “Today was one of those days when everything decides to break.”

  “One of these days, there’s going to be too many people, and this whole planet is just going to break right in half,” he says as he stirs something in a pan.

  I huff a laugh, because it honestly feels like the truth. “How was your day?”

  He shrugs. “Nothing special. Just work, as usual.”

  My father, Torin Ainsley, works maintenance at the local school. Day in and day out, he fixes broken sinks, backed-up toilets, scrubs ink off walls, and keeps the power in the building running so the lights stay on for those children.

  It’s a thankless job. It isn’t glamorous. But it has paid our bills my entire life, and it’s been stable.

  It’s where I first found my love for mechanics and engineering, crawling through the underbelly of the school building, fixing the wiring or repairing the ducting.

  He taught me a lot of skills the planet no longer values.

  Together we eat at our tiny table, a meal of manufactured protein mush and vegetables that barely have enough nutrients to qualify as food.

  Our life is simple. Routine. Basic.

  We work.

  We eat together.

  We sleep.

  Repeat.

  My father is a simple man, but he is reliable.

  I look up at him as I chew. His eyes remain fixed on the cracked tableware.

  His eyes are gray where mine are pale blue. His nose is round where mine is narrow. His jaw square, where mine is more heart-shaped.

  Our only common feature is our dirty blonde hair, but you wouldn’t know it now. His has turned silver over the last five solars.

  I wonder, as I always have, if I got all of my features from my mother. If I look like her.

  When I was old enough to ask why I didn’t have a mother when all my friends did, he told me that she died when I was a baby. That it was a construction accident.

  They’re common on Korpillion, where they constantly have to build higher and bigger to keep up with the growing population.

  I hate that this suffocating planet took her from me before I ever had a chance to know and remember her.

  “I was thinking,” I say as I push the last bite of tasteless food into my mouth. “I have enough saved up now. We should start planning that trip to the coast.”

  Dad’s eyes rise to meet mine and his brows furrow. “With prices of lodging and food on the coast, you’d have to save up for a solar to be able to afford it. Places like the coast aren’t for people like us.”

  He doesn’t say it cruelly or spitefully. He says it with resolve. Like it’s so far out of reach, the thought is instantly out of his mind again.

  “That’s the thing,” I say, leaning forward and crossing my arms on the table. “I have been saving up for a long while. We have all our bills paid up. We have no debt now. I think we can afford to experience a little comfort and fun.”

  He gives me a little smile. “That sounds nice, Nova. I’ll think about it.” But I see it in his eyes, and I know him well enough that I know he really won’t think about it.

  We work. We eat together. We sleep. We start it all over again.

  I give him a little smile that I know doesn’t reach my eyes. But I can’t find it in me to fight him, to argue and beg. So I pat his hand, and stand to clear and wash the dishes.

  With the routine of the day complete and the world growing dark outside, I take the three steps to my bedroom and close the door.

  Plain white walls, small bed, even smaller desk. A wardrobe holds the eight different sets of clothes I own. An extra pair of shoes is in the bottom of it.

  There is no room for excess on Korpillion.

  There is no room for extra children—one per family is regulation. Children are to live with their parents until they marry. There aren’t enough housing units on the planet to bend the rules.

  I flip the lights off and lay back on my bed, letting my eyes slide closed.

  I can feel the connection. Like a little wormhole that goes directly from my brain to his. It’s as easy to open as it is to close my eyes.

  “Do you ever feel like your life is just going to suck you into an abyss and you’re going to simply cease to exist, because it’s all the same, over and over, every single day?”

  I send the words down in a rush, like liquid spilling down a slide.

  “Bad day?” his voice comes through, clear as day.

  I let out a breath, and somehow, I know he can hear it. “No.” I flop one arm over my eyes. “That’s the thing, it was exactly like every other day.”

  He’s quiet for a moment. And for yet another time, I try to picture him. Is his hair dark or light? Is he tall or short? How old is he? What color are his eyes?

  “There’s something to be said about the comfort of routine,” he responds. “We only miss it when it’s gone and life is suddenly chaos.”

  “Sure,” I say, because I know the moments of panic that break things up. Like when I got a call four lunars ago that my father had broken his arm and needed emergency surgery. I’d rushed from work and met him at the infirmary. My heart had been in my throat the whole time. I didn’t like the feeli
ng of panic.

  “But I can’t say I particularly feel alive these days.” I say the words, and hearing them spoken in my own head, it’s like a rounding chorus, repeating the words and the feeling, over and over and over again.

  “But you won’t leave your planet because of your father.” He states the reason I’ve given him in the past.

  My stomach twists. “I just feel stuck.”

  “If only we could mesh our two lives,” he says. “I could use a little more normalcy. Some boring downtime. And you could use some of this chaos and impulse.”

  “What part of the galaxy are you in now?” I ask. I don’t expect an answer, because we never talk details-names, places.

  “Just outside a gas planet in the S3 system.”

  He shocks me when he answers with a simple, direct answer.

  “You’re not that far away,” I say, and to my surprise, a little smile pulls on my lips. “I’m in the U9 system.”

  I hear him give a little amused sound, and it widens my smile. “Still light years apart, and yet you consider this ‘not that far away.’”

  Now I chuckle. “It’s just the modern galaxy we live in.”

  It’s true. Inter-solar travel has never been faster. If I had the credits, I could get on a ship and be to the S3 system in seven days.

  “All this science does come with its miracles,” he muses.

  We’re both quiet for a moment. I roll onto my side, my back facing the door and my boring, mundane reality.

  “Have you ever thought about it?” I ask. “We’ve been connected in this insane, impossible, crazy intimate way for lunars now, but if we ever saw each other on the street, we wouldn’t even recognize each other.”

  He’s quiet for a beat, and for a second I’m worried I’ve said something too personal, too intimate.

  “I don’t think you’d like me in real life,” he says, though it’s quiet, regretful.

  “Why?” I ask.

  But he doesn’t respond with words. I just get this…impression. This darker, self-depreciating taste on my tongue.

  “You act like I don’t know you,” I say, hugging my pillow into my chest. “Like I haven’t learned anything about you in these lunars we’ve been connected.”