The Astral Key

Chapter 3

Sailing through skies of such beauty. Flying through the stars. Everything was so vast, so much bigger than one shard of life. Too vast.

A loud clatter rang out and Micah jumped. He had dozed against the wall.

But it felt more like a trance.

Harsh lights and harsher noises assaulted his senses. Indescribable beauty melted into industrial dreariness. Micah tensed, feeling uneasy in the large spacecraft, surrounded by soldiers, agents, scientists, and workers. If anyone didn't belong, it was Micah. It didn't help that eyes were on him.

Too many eyes watching. Too many recording devices. And Micah probably missed many of the eyes and devices.

It didn't bother him. The government watched everything. No one questioned it. Micah might read of times of no tech, times of heroes and swords, but he preferred the comfort of an ordered world. Even if an ordered world meant limited privacy and freedom.

It wasn't always that way. There was a time when Micah wanted something more. The vision still lingered within him, a vision of utter freedom.

Another clatter. Workers loaded the prototype onto the small craft. An ebony box, nearly as big as a crate. Once fused with the weapon systems, it would provide a potent boost. Nothing should survive the blast.

Micah's feet shook as he approached the craft. This wasn't what he pictured for his life. He just wanted to teach literature and mythology.

"Don't do it."

Micah faltered before turning back. A woman with short dark curls and dressed all in black. One of the finest scientific minds of their day, who now put all of her energy into creating weapons. Only twenty-three, but exhaustion made her look older.

He didn't want to think about his own looks. A small burn marred his forehead, a gift from an evacuation.

"Hannah, I didn't think you'd join my sister's misguided beliefs," Micah said.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh yes, I want to dance under the light of the moon and worship these unclassified abominations." She reached forward and smacked him. "I don't want you dying, that's all."

Micah tried to force a smile. "I'm not going to die."

Hannah gave him a dark look. "That's what Alan said when they sent him out with the last weapon."

Micah moved aside as another worker passed. "No one else can do it. They said I tested with the highest metaphysical alteration."

"They don't know what they are talking about!" Hannah threw her hands up in the air. "They are measuring something that none of us understand. I..."

She looked back and forth at the people milling around before pulling him behind more crates. It gave the illusion of privacy for people who had long ago sacrificed privacy for safety.

Except not the safety was crumbling around them as they tried to cling onto remnants of their way of life.

Hannah pushed her head back. "You're aware of the odds of survival, aren't you? Even with a pilot worth their shit, you are going to be surrounded by a horde of Class 9 creatures. If the prototype doesn't blow you to kingdom come, there's every chance one of them will take you down before the prototype can even activate. You know what that means, don't you?"

"Just because tech isn't my specialty, doesn't mean I'm an idiot." Micah rubbed his head. "It means we'll go down while the prototype goes boom."

"Then why are you doing this?" Hannah asked. "And don't give me that shit about metaphysical alteration. I've seen the files, there are dozens of other candidates."