Page 15 of The Sovereign: Part One
Three Hyperion Reg transports approached in perfect formation, their sleek, black exteriors absorbing the glow from the HaloGrid.I felt Ibith shift closer to me, her small fingers brushing against my arm.
“What’s happening?”she asked, her voice quieter now.The Regs were rarely seen, their presence a silent reminder of Hyperion’s stability, enforcers who maintained order so efficiently that they were almost never needed.And yet, here they were, and the atmosphere obeyed, control rendered in motion.
“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully.
The transports came to a halt in front of Mr.Nyland’s home.He was a solemn man, maybe fifteen years older than me, always polite but distant, his presence more of a shadow in the district than a fixture.I’d only exchanged a handful of words with him over the years, brief pleasantries when passing on the walkway, a nod of acknowledgment at community meetings.He worked in data refinement, a sector that suited his detached, methodical nature.Whatever had happened inside that home, I knew it had to be grave.Neither The Citadel nor the Tribitheon erred in judgment.
The moment the slipgates of their transports hissed open, the Regs emerged, exceptionally tall and intimidating Hiven, service Supplicants with identical features, each an exact replica of the next, but the Regs’ size and obsidian uniforms set them apart, almost organic in the way they adhered to their bodies.Though their faces were expressionless, the thin, illuminated bands over their lowered helmets pulsed faintly, veiling their eyes, serving as a silent reminder of their function.They were not individuals, but a singular force, serving as the enforcers of The Citadel’s order.
They stormed inside, only hesitating the few seconds it took to override the Nylands’ home system.Moments later, the panel to the Nyland residence burst open, and Mr.Nyland was dragged out, barefoot, clothed only in an undershirt and striped base shorts.He struggled, his protests raw and ragged, but the Regs held him as if his resistance were nothing more than an afterthought.
Mrs.Nyland appeared a moment later, wrapped in a blanket, her golden blonde hair falling in wild, tangled strands.Some clung to her damp skin, pressed against her cheeks in places, revealing glimpses of flawless skin and high, sculpted cheekbones, beauty that had once turned heads with ease.But now, mascara streaked beneath her eyes like smudged ink on delicate paper, and her lipstick blurred at the edges.She stood still, her features carefully composed, but the faint downturn of her lips and the heaviness in her gaze betrayed her debilitating sorrow.She had been forged to love Mr.Nyland, bound to him in a way that was written into her very existence, but no design, no devotion, could alter the course he had set for himself.
“Isara?”Ibith whimpered, pressing against my side.“Where are they taking him?Beyond the walls?”
I swallowed.“Eventually, yes.”
Ibith hesitated, then tilted her head to look up at me.“What’s out there?”
The question coiled through me like a slow, creeping dread.I refocused my gaze toward the towering walls of Hyperion Proper, their smooth surfaces faintly reflecting the HaloGrid, standing so impossibly high that they loomed like mountains on the horizon, visible from every vantage point, an ever-present reminder of our world’s boundaries.
“I don’t know, Ibith,” I said, still in a state of shock and confusion.
She tugged on my blouse.“You don’t know?”
“I haven’t been beyond the walls.”
“Never?”
I shook my head, still lost in a fog of confusion, struggling to piece together my thoughts enough to respond.“It’s not safe.”
“It’s not?”she asked, her voice strained.“Why?What’s out there?”
“Don’t worry, Ibith.The walls are… very high.”
I guided her back to the landing and crouched down to meet her gaze, offering a smile strained with regret, sorry that someone as young as Ibith would be burdened with such an unsettling, formative memory.“You should go inside.Tell your parents what you saw so they can help you understand.”
She hesitated but nodded, slipping through her threshold without another word.I turned toward my own home, my eyes fixed forward, refusing to look back at the commotion.The Regs were efficient, but I didn’t want their eyes on me.No one did.
Inside, my home was a sanctuary of order and light, untouched by what was happening outside.Calyx, my home’s adaptive interface, activated as soon as I stepped in, adjusting the ambiance and temperature to my usual preferences.
“Welcome home, Isara,”Calyx intoned, his voice a smooth, low baritone, measured, refined, and confident, like a seasoned narrator delivering a private reading.It carried warmth without weight, designed to be present without intruding, a voice I’d carefully chosen for its balance of competence and familiarity.“Your evening meal remains at ideal temperature.Your requested garment refresh has been completed.Would you like a report on today’s deliveries?”
I exhaled slowly, setting my tresset down on the pale quartz counter.“Yes, Calyx.”
“Mr.Poeima’s Stasis Bay will arrive within the hour.”
I froze.Calyx didn’t mean my papa.He meant Maxim.My heart stuttered in my chest before picking up its pace.“That’s… sooner than expected.”
“The Office of Integration has dispatched Hiven to arrive shortly to complete the installation and ensure proper incorporation.”
I nodded, but my hand trembled as I reached for a leir of water.It was happening.Soon, Maxim would be here, not just a projection of what I had imagined, but someone to hold me, to converse with, to do life alongside me, something I hadn’t experienced in over a year.
I moved through the open layout of my Sablestone, letting my fingers trail along the smooth, self-repairing surfaces.The living space was airy and spacious, bathed in a gentle, diffused incandescence.My dining area overlooked the community’s shared green space, and for a moment, I felt a sense of peace.It reminded me of Joss’s descriptions of The Vale: simple, natural, untouched, offering a small but reliable comfort.
I set about my usual evening routine, trying to shake off the restless energy simmering beneath my skin.The low whir of the galley units relieved the silence as Calyx directed the preparation of a simple fare.Even as the smell of spices filled the room, my mind remained unsettled, replaying the scene outside.After eating, I placed my plate into the cleansing alcove, where a barely audible click signaled the start of an ultrasonic rinse; no water, no harsh scrubbing, just a near-invisible vibration that lifted every particle of debris before sterilizing the surface.The plate would be cataloged, stacked, and returned to its designated place.As the process ran, I tidied the living space, smoothing the cushions on the sofa, and directed Calyx to shift the center table’s opacity, subtly concealing the interface beneath its surface as the room settled into evening.
I stood in my living space, mindlessly tracing the edge of my leir with my fingertip as I waited for the Hiven to arrive.The room was silent except for the electrostatic whisper of Hyperion’s energy grid lightly pulsing beneath the floors, making my thoughts seem loud.I moved to the mirror, hesitating before glancing up, as if I might catch a glimpse of what Maxim had seen in me during my Eidolon.
