A.I. Martin - Electric Storm

ELECTRIC

STORM

A.I. Martin

ONE

T HE SOLDIERS CANT touch me.

And they know it.

Their tense hands hover above their weapon beltsproof they dont believe Im as innocent as my large blue eyes make me seem. The curved metal of the long hallway bears down on me, and I sense every molecule of space between myself and the thick-shouldered men walking on either side. Three more march a few paces behind. I tug on the dark gloves that cover my thin fingers. Our discomfort is mutual.

The soldiers hand twitches over his Tase gun every time I make the slightest movement. That weapon wouldnt help him; I could crush the metal and his throat before he pulled the trigger.

If I took off my gloves, that is.

The soldier and I make eye contact for one second through the long, loose waves of my pastel purple hair, and my limbs hum with irritation. I hardly need a brigade of full-fledged soldiers to find my way to the Council office. But I guess after eight years, the administration still trusts me about as much as I trust them.

The silence of my guards drags through me, pulling little pinches of fear from the edges of my mind. My reflection ripples along the glass of a small porthole as we pass. The blackness of space highlights my long face and dots my pale skin with the stars I long to return to. The hazy curve of Kronos is barely visible as we make our orbit, and I feel trappedstuck in a way Ill never get used to.

The only thing that could make this situation worse is if Council decides to banish me to the barbaric planet. All my muscles tighten to crush the thought, but I havent been able to so much as dent it since I was summoned from my workshop.

Im going to be sent away. Theres no other explanation for why I have to stand before the Council five days before my birthday.

Ill be eighteen, officially an adult, and instead of giving me a placement, they may finally exile me. There are more than a few who would be happy to see me go.

Endless panels of smooth metal line hallways I travel every day, suddenly seeming smaller, more ominous as I force my feet forward. The lights hum in a hypnotizing rhythm overhead, mixing with the thud of our steps. We finally come to a door with a large red bar that reads RESTRICTED ACCESS in thick bold letters. The warning mixes with my nerves, and I fail all over again at trying to stamp out the flame of fear in my gut.

The soldier on my left places a hand on the panel embedded into the wall. It flashes, beeps, and the door slides, forcing my mind open at the same time.

Crackling memories pop behind my eyes, like a screen stuck between two video feeds, fighting for domination. Screaming fills my ears like static. Im unable to take another step forward, and my thick-soled, knee-high boots skid on the grated floor. Electric current forces its way between my skin and uniform, crawling up my neck and into my hair.

Both soldiers take out their Tase guns, widening their stances in case I lose control, which has happened before. Sometimes I cant stop the images of my ten-year-old-self being dragged through these same doors as electricity exploded along my struggling limbs. I push deep, shuddering breaths through my lungs as I try to gather my erratic energy, gesturing to the soldiers that I'm fine. The older I get, the less often I need to be subdued. I tip my chin to my chest, breathing slow like my trainer taught me.

They're waiting for you, a soldier says, his voice strained but calm. Scanning the soldiers, their wary eyes center me. I cant show fear in front of them.

Setting my shoulders and lifting my chin, I force down my feelings, swallowing them up and burying them in the darkest parts of me.

We continue into the much cleaner halls of Administration, where the government officials of the Network run the powerful military base they call Athena.

Everything is bigger, brighter, and more spacious, beyond the thick metal doors. My boots barely make a sound on the solid floor, the panels bolted in tight, unlike the loose plates of the regular halls with hissing pipes exposed underneath. Here, the inner workings of the space station are neatly tucked away under a polished shine, like secret struggles kept in locked boxes, giving the illusion of an easy life. The perfection of it makes me nervous.

Two more sets of similar doors bring us to the Council office, and everything in me wants to spin on my heel and book it back to my workshop. Too bad Im surrounded.

The soldiers stop at the threshold where metal turns to intricate tile. Theyre unable to follow me inside and unwilling to meet my eye.

This cant be good.

My eyelids flutter as I enter the blindingly white domed room. Metal and glass touch every feature, like most of Athena, but not a single imperfection. No rust. No underlying staleness of recirculated air. Living in space makes any kind of resources precious, and the expensive or luxurious is only for the elite.

Helia, the General of the Athenian Army addresses me. So wonderful to see you.

Sitting at the center of a long curved glass table, a reflection of blue lights dance along his dark skin as the surface turns to a computer screen.

Hello, sir. The crackling nerves under my skin are soothed by the warmth of his smile and the familiar wrinkles around his aging eyes. The General isnt on the Council, but hes the father of my best friend, Eion. My shoulders unwind a bit, knowing hes here to advocate for me. I bet Eion forced him to. Shes the only person who can push him around.

The rest of the Council sit four people on either side of the General. Five men and three womenelected from each of the fourteen outposts in the Networks fleet of space stations and moon bases strategically placed in multiple solar systems. I know most of the aging members by face but not name. The Councilalong with high-ranking officialsdont mix with the staff, soldiers, and training recruits who fill the halls I use every day.

Because I was originally brought to Athena as a prisoner, Ive been the center of a few of these meetings. Often they end in me vibrating with white-hot hatred, gazing at the stars and wishing I were back home with my father, while they argue about what to do with me.

Helia Langdon. The woman next to the General speaks in a low bored tone, the pile of white hair swaying high on her head. Youve been called on today to discuss your future here on Athena.

I clasp my hands behind my back and swallow the vortex of nerves that swirl up my throat like bile.

I put in my application for the engineering department months ago. I launch straight into my argument, knowing I only have a few minutes before they forget I'm here or that maybe I have ideas about how I want to live my life. I know I only put one department on my preferences, but I assumed with my particular... modifications... engineering was the only place for me. Clearing my throat pushes down the terrified part of me that expects this is where they tell me Im out; theyre sending me away now that Im all grown up.