2.6.2

Theoretical Displacement

Outside, the specialist gestured that her teammates should continue on ahead. Realizing her need for privacy, they politely pretended they couldn’t hear what followed.

Something must be dealt with, before she returned to the ship. With a steadying breath, Astrid recovered the list of victims from her pack, and faced the dead.

Upon the first glance at a long list, too long, of penned names, her eyes bleared in tears. And finally, in the space between Sanctuary Endra and the Aldebaran, the ejected Channeler permitted herself to cry.

She took each name inside herself like bullet holes through her spirit, and she let it hurt. She let it sink in and shake her world before she brought the tumult onboard with her.

But the sob that wracked her body came a noise she’d never heard from herself before. She felt, yet again, like she didn’t know herself. For she couldn’t imagine, or empathize, with this kind of pain before. And now it forged her into someone she didn’t recognize.

Someone strange. Someone lost.

She covered her mouth in a gloved hand and stifled her cries all the way back to the ship. By the grieving glow of her crystal, she looked at the list, over, and over, until she felt certain she could face it again in the company of others, without upheaval.

And with immense grace, neither Tenya, nor Anders, looked back.

She managed to release the worst of her anguish, and repress the rest, by the time the team climbed back into the hold and divested of gear.

And with dry eyes, Astrid converged in the War Room with the others to share what they learned.

They presented the list for all to see, and Dell immediately compiled a digital copy for the group to study on their own time.

“The Keeper couldn’t confirm the involvement of the Static Opposition,” Anders told the captain. “But it was definitely a targeted abduction.”

“Kidnapping is a means, not an end…” Romo postulated.

“So why kidnap Channelers? Experiments? Like Argos?” Dell wondered.

“If so, it wouldn't be the Opposition. They wanted them straight up dead,” Tenya countered. “I'm not sure either make sense, here. I think it’s more disturbing the demographic they focused on. They took only the kids. That has to mean something right? I mean, why the children? Presumably they require more care. They were careful to try not to kill any of them.”

“They failed.” Astrid bit out.

“As terrible as it is, it shows an intent beyond simple execution. That means we might have some time to make a difference here,” Captain London redirected.

“But they only killed the adults, and the Statics,” Tenya continued. “Why are children different?”

“Kids are more sensitive targets,” Romo theorized. “As hostages, they’re a lot more likely to secure concessions with a bunch of children rather than adults.”

“They’re easier to control maybe? Or manipulate?” Dell wondered next.

“Remember how agreeable Astrid was when she first arrived?” Tenya put to him. “The older ones are already better trained to submit and not ask too many questions. In this case, we have to allow for the fact that kids would be harder to control, not easier.”

“They’re more powerful.” Astrid finally interjected. With the words came the heavy feeling she shared with Alethea when she realized the limited age range on the list. Something only those familiar with Channelers and the Sanctuaries would know.

“Elaborate.” Captain London, along with the rest of the team, turned their attention to her.

“It’s more effortless. They haven’t had years of suppression dimming it like the older ones. It’s more raw. And they have ample energy. You ever try to wrangle a seven-year-old for an entire day and see who has more energy by the time you’re done?”

“Yes, I have.” Tenya conceded with a sigh. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“They probably didn’t take many teens because hormones make their emotions more erratic,” Astrid explained further. “They likely only took a couple of the older teens to manage the little ones. But those on the list, Maya and Finn? Even the next oldest, Neema, they’re all kind-hearted. They’re natural nurturers. Gentle spirits that probably put themselves between the attackers and the students without immediately resorting to violence. They would have been easy to take.”

“Let’s follow this trail theoretically,” Captain London directed. “If it’s about energy, what could they do with that?”

“With enough of them, they could power a great many things,” Astrid speculated. “A factory maybe? But why not use traditional resources for that?”

“How about a mobile weapon?” Anders wondered. "Or a private strike force of some kind?"

“They’re kids, they’re not trained for that.” Astrid’s heart thudded harder at the suggestion. “But… who’s to say what they might become capable of if prompted instead of restricted?”

With that, London shifted his focus to take his Channeler at her word.

“Dell, Romo, I want you to check our sources, see if you can shake out any leads on newly opened plants or facilities. Same as last time. They still have to be holding them somewhere. They’re not vanishing into thin air.”

“Out in space though, Captain… there’s too many possibilities. We need more to go on,” Romo insisted.

“Food,” Tenya suggested. “Feeding that many Channelers, especially if you’re pushing their abilities, that’s gonna take a lot of supplies. Enough to feed a small army.”

Romo nodded and made a note in his datapad. “Anything else?”

“We have stringent laws against child-trafficking,” the captain reminded them. “All the large cities and colonies have gateway stations and Customs before visitors can even get planetside, and they’d investigate a registry with so many children on it. We can eliminate Earth, at the very least. But I’d be surprised if they’d even try for the larger colonies.”

“That’s still a needle in a haystack, Captain.” Dell glanced over Romo’s notes from where he keyed his own copy of Alethea’s list.

“But it’s all we have. I have faith you’ll find something. Even half a dozen weak leads give us something to look into.”

“Aye, aye,” Dell submitted.

“Astrid, I need you to really study this file. It’s all we have. If you can find anything in common on either list, the missing, or the dead, anything that might indicate a pattern or suggest more specifically what this group seeks, it would help.”

“Yes, sir,” she agreed. But she did not look forward to it.

“In either case, this can’t be solved in the next two hours. So, take a break, regroup, then look at this with fresh eyes.”

The group nodded as they were dismissed. After he completed inputting the data, Dell passed the list back to Astrid for review. Her eyes followed the Keeper’s scrawling script. Faint waves and dots indicated a shaking hand.

Now they both knew the load of being responsible for so many.

~~~

While the others busied themselves, Astrid stayed behind in the War Room to do what the captain asked.

With the others absent and the ship quiet, she forced herself to sit down, and face the list in earnest. She started with those confirmed deceased.

Twenty-nine lives in total. People she cared for and known for as long as she could remember. They’d been as constant as the stars, and now, nothing remained of them but indistinct stains on the Sanctuary’s veneer.

The Guardians, they never felt her enemy. Not like the Opposition. Those slain, they’d been killed trying to protect their charges. In their final moments, they’d been murdered for standing between Channelers and the outside world.

And for those taken, though it seemed likely they yet lived, Astrid ached.

She lamented how scared they must be. Frightened, and alone. And at the thought that any moment, Opal, the sweetheart with whom she shared a love of stories, might be curled in the dark wishing anyone might save her, Astrid suddenly couldn’t sit.

Harlowe, that would be the worst to bear. She still couldn’t accept it, not completely. She could only be grateful she didn’t see his death with her own eyes. But even that felt selfish. Like it proved Terrell right that she stood the unapologetically lucky one.

It felt so unfair, so inherently wrong, that Astrid should be safe. Comfortable.

Could Maya and Finn keep each other calm? Could they keep the others safe?

Astrid cast her eyes along the War Room walls while hypotheticals whirled. But she saw only Endra, not the Aldebaran’s hulls.

If she’d been there, could she have stopped them? Without her training, her current power, she likely would have found herself another victim. If she fought as hard to keep the children from being taken, they might’ve killed her, too. Another casualty.

At best, she might replace Maya’s name on the list. Worse, what if she lived through it, and been left behind, like Terrell? Would she not also have been furious and looking for someone to blame?

After Gi transferred, Terrell became a good friend. He never told her to calm down, or that she didn’t deserve to be angry or upset. He almost fed off it, like her righteous pain validated his own. And for the longest time, they shared in that bond.

But she made peace, and he never did.

They both yelled in the courtyard, both grown enraged. But only she nearly lost control. He didn’t spark at all. Astrid overlooked it at the time, but now she wondered. Maybe because he always felt that way. Angry or frustrated. The emotion, if familiar enough, wouldn’t affect him in the same way.

She couldn’t decide if that made him more dangerous, or less.

Heavy feet from the stairs below brought Astrid’s downward spiral to an abrupt halt.

Anders arrived, files in hand, on his way to the Bridge. But when he saw her face, the man’s demeanor immediately shifted. He detoured to her side with a frown.

“Astrid? What is it?”

She consciously tried to smooth her expression from the permanent scowl that took roost there. She rubbed her palms over her cheeks and eyes with a long sigh.

“It’s still sinking in, I guess. This is a lot.”

A tablet came to rest deserted on the center table when Anders drew closer. “That’s okay. This kind of stuff, it’s not supposed to be easy.”

“You guys seem to be doing okay.”

Anders blinked and his lips downturned.

“I don’t mean that in a bad way,” Astrid hurried to repair. “I know you care, it’s just… I don’t know, you have more practice, I guess. These feelings, I feel like I’m spinning out of control a little bit here.”

“You need to forgive yourself for that. That’s normal.”

She pressed her hands on the table and stretched her back outward, for any kind of reprieve.

“They need me to be on point for this. And I need it, too. If I fail them, I don’t know how I’m supposed to live with it.”

Anders fell quiet, but as always, his fern eyes watched her with great measure.

“Please tell me what you’re thinking," she prodded. "Because I’m tired of hearing myself think right now…”