1.1.2

The Cost of Serenity

Cole withdrew a two-pronged pulsar stick from his belt. A high-pitched pulse of energy pierced the air and sent all three Channelers reeling in pain. The burst penetrated the brain and sliced through reality until it was all Astrid could think and feel, like being stuck with a hot poker.

She couldn’t even hear the cries of Finn and Maya as they all stumbled away from the sound blindly, palms flattened to their ears.

It ended a few moments after. When Astrid could think straight, she opened her eyes to find Finn hunched over his knees on the far wall of the hallway. Maya slumped into a pile at the base of a shelving unit. All three wore a fresh sheen of sweat over their skin.

“I’m sorry,” Cole mumbled, as two other white-clad Guardians appeared, drawn to the sound of a discharge.

“Which?” One of the new arrivals demanded to know.

Cole numbly pointed to Maya’s shivering form.

“Take her to the tanks for a few hours. The Keeper will deal with her when she’s no longer occupied.”

“Please…” Astrid spoke through trembling lips. “Let me take her.”

“Cole?” the Guardian queried.

“It’s fine. Hale was trying to help. I’ll make sure they get there.”

“And you, get back to your studies.” The lead gestured to Finn.

Finn nodded compliantly but passed Astrid and Maya one more worried glance before he obeyed.

The girls set a staggered pace, with Cole at their heels, toward the Administration section of the facility.

“I’m sorry,” Maya muttered weakly, still disoriented from the scramble of energy the pulse left in its wake. “I’m so sorry, Astrid.”

Astrid kept her arm slung around the girl to keep her upright while they walked. “We’ve all been there. It’s going to be okay.”

“The Keeper is going to be so mad.”

“No, she won’t. She’ll understand. But you have to work on this. You must.”

The Guardian, Cole, kept quiet until they reached the deprivation tanks—a series of cells with no lights or power to agitate a Channeler’s sensitivity. It provided a way to deprive the nerves of stimuli when needed most. But it could be lonely. And claustrophobic.

“I need to take her the rest of the way.”

“Is that okay with you, Maya?” Astrid reluctantly rescinded her embrace. The young woman nodded meekly, and Cole gestured down the hall past the door.

“You should return to the yards, Astrid. I’ll report your aid to the Keeper.”

Astrid bobbed her head once in acknowledgement but still stared past the door when Cole took Maya deeper within to get her settled.

Only when they disappeared around a corner did Astrid move on. She took one of the main halls, past the Keeper’s office. She couldn’t help but worry about what might happen if Maya couldn’t get her ability under control.

The fact remained they were so trained to suppress their talents because wild discharges like Maya’s put others at risk. They may even be potentially fatal in the wrong conditions. They could not be met with lax oversight.

Uncontrollable Channelers were transferred to even stricter Sanctuaries. And if they proved they could not be around other humans without putting lives in danger, they were never heard from again.

Terrell expressed suspicions they were euthanized, but Astrid couldn’t believe that. Only when offending Channelers demonstrated a repeated willingness to kill were they ever put to the death. Not unlike with Statics, she comforted herself to remember.

The Keeper’s voice drifted into the hall at a clipped tone as Astrid passed.

So rarely did Keeper Alethea’s voice carry such friction, that Astrid faltered. Her footsteps slowed almost involuntarily.

She knew she shouldn’t eavesdrop, but somehow, she could not bring herself to move.

The Keeper of Sanctuary Endra, in most cases, possessed a staunchly level-headed presence. It made her an ideal fit for her role. She met her charges with unwavering duty in equal measure with temperance. But now, Astrid could feel a sense of unease seep under the edge of the door, and it unnerved her. For what could possibly put such a stalwart advocate and leader on edge?

“Our people here do not practice, nor are permitted, to use their power in the manner you describe. I’m afraid you want for something that is not here. And even if it were, I would be remiss to send such a being out into the world.”

“We are more than capable of protecting ourselves.”

The second voice rumbled completely unfamiliar. Deep and gravelly. Astrid blinked as she realized the outsiders must be within. Her body stilled as she recognized the preciously unique moment she happened upon.

“It’s not just you I must worry about. Our people here may be isolated, but it is as much for their own good. Out there, they are feared, and that makes others dangerous to them. You seek a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Rather, it is the world out there that is full of the wolves, and I will not throw my people to them on a whim.”

A secondary set of footsteps worked their way up the corridor behind her, and Astrid sensed the fizzle of another Static. One of the Guardians approached.

She deserted her position, and her brief glimpse into the strangers’ purpose in Sanctuary Endra.

~~~

Soon, Astrid grappled with distraction as much as any in the Sanctuary. In her mind, Keeper Alethea’s words played in repetition.

Their entire education maintained that Channelers perpetuated a risk by merely existing. So, Astrid wondered, what could be so bad that the Keeper feared the Statics’ effect on them, rather than the other way around?

Astrid escaped to the library to pour over her favorite books in search of diversion. But accounts of civilization in which she usually reveled brought no comfort. Despite progress and development, in every stage of studied history it seemed people always proved the greatest threat. And if by virtue all humans were equally dangerous, Astrid could not fathom how any Static could consider themselves more dangerous than one bearing the distinction of being “Deathborn”.

“Astrid?”

A woman with a neat bun combed to the back of her head interrupted her train of thought.

“Yes?” Astrid blinked.

“It’s Thursday. Do you have any letters for me to send today?”

Thursdays were the designated day for correspondence, to send messages along to pen pals at other Sanctuaries. Astrid realized how preoccupied she must have been to forget.

“Yes. But I’m afraid I’m not ready. Do you have time for me to get back to you?”

“You have a couple hours. I’m still making my rounds.” The woman presented a knowing smile. “Still writing to Gi?”

Astrid’s cheeks reddened. Nothing went unnoticed when everyone lived so closely. “I haven’t heard from him in a while. I’m starting to worry.”

“It’s been several years since he transferred, yes? To continue talking for so long, it seems unlikely he would neglect word from you now. Sanctuary Argos tends to abide by a more rigid directive. Perhaps messages are merely delayed. I’m sure you’ll hear from him any day now.”

“Thank you, Maureen.” Astrid closed the book in front of her. “I’ll find you before the end of the afternoon.”

Maureen bowed her head in understanding and moved on to the next table.

Astrid thumbed the edges of her tome thoughtfully.

At twelve, Gi had been evicted from Endra. And she still carried guilt for her role in it. He’d indicated in his letters since that he held no resentment for her, but perhaps if she’d been better disciplined at the time, he wouldn’t have been sent away.

“Strong emotions must be avoided. It is hard enough for Statics to temper their affections and jealousy. You cannot afford to indulge. And we cannot afford to allow it.”

The Keeper thoroughly lectured them both. Astrid spent three days in the tanks after Gi was subsequently shipped to one of the more stringent Sanctuaries. Only after she could get through a day without crying did she rejoin her classmates and resume her studies.

They were allowed to write after enough time passed. But in the recent months, his responses dwindled to nil. She wrestled with the sensation that she lost him.

It had been a long time, Astrid rationalized. More mature now, she willfully suppressed her disappointment.