Thera

Meda steps out into the world, as the door slams shut behind her. Spinning around, she sees the door metal fade to white matching the wall like it never existed.

With her forehead on the now white stone wall, Meda inhales a few long, deep breaths. She turns to face the world.

The sun hides behind the one story stone building casting shadows on the narrow sidewalk and the road. The walkway is only a few feet wide, barely wide enough for to people to walk side by side. But there’s no one of them to prove it. Both sideways on either side of the road are completely desolate as far as Meda can see. It’s an immaculate ghost town.

Although she is alone, Meda feels as if she is being watched from the shadows. She examines her hand thinking about what the emigration woman said about government monitoring. She shivers.

Looking back at the world in front of her, she sees that the road and building both have the same sleek coating from the park pathway, which isn’t surprising since her mother said almost everything was made from the planet’s most valued product. The road is wide more of an avenue than a street. The buildings are tall and could rival any of Earth’s skyscrapers. She can’t even she the top of the one closest to her. The light from the unseen sun reflects rainbows onto the road and sideway adding color to the pristine grays and whites. As a colorful ray hits Meda’s eyes, she wonders if this is what walking in a row of prisms would be like.

In two steps, Meda reaches the edge of the curb looking both ways down the road. From the left, a blur appears in the sky, like steam rising from asphalt. The vapor seems to be heading towards Meda at a fast speed.

Meda jumps back just at the vapor takes shape and stops right in front of her hovering over the road.

The vapor, not really a gaseous object, is a translucent, oblong vehicle that resembles a pill capsule.

To get a better look, Meda approaches the strange vehicle. Immediately, the outer shell cracks in half with a low groan. The two pieces separate revealing a firm yet cushioned chair in the middle of a platform. The platform appears to be holding the two pieces in place.

Hesitantly, Meda steps onto the landing and sits in the chair with her bag on her lap. The chair forms to her body making it more comfortable than it seems. Once seated, the two outer shell closes around her. Although the vehicle is the size of a European compact, the space inside feels roomy.

Meda places her bag between her feet. A kind female voice chimes in.

“Destination, please?”

Meda jumps at the invisible voice.

“What the…”

“Invalid entry. Destination, please?”

Meda sits confused for a second until she remembers the emigration woman’s strange instructions.

“Ambassador Tower.” She squeaks.

A small dashboard slides out into front of her from the outer shell.

“Verification, please?

Meda extends her left hand gliding under the dash. Without another response from the invisible voice, the vehicle glides down the road.

Picking up speed, the “pill car” climbs into the air. It zooms past buildings transforming them into colorful haze. Meda tries to see her surroundings but gives up quickly. The blurriness makes her dizzy and nauseous but her body doesn’t feel the speed. She keeps her head down thanking the inventor for not making see-through floors.

As soon as Meda gets comfortable, the vehicle starts to descend. It stops in front of an hundred foot skyscraper. Like all the others, it has the oily sheen that radiates rainbows onto the white sideways. But the wide glass double doors suggest that it’s different.

The outer shell splits. The chair lifts up helping Meda to her wobbly feet. Snatching her bag, Meda steps out the vehicle onto the curb. The sidewalk is just as narrow here and the looming doors are only a few steps away. The vehicle’s shell closes and zooms away fading into the skyline.

Meda steps up to the double doors. The doors dissolve away as Meda enters the building.

The room is large with rowed chairs parted by a wide aisle down the middle. The aisle leads to a small hallway. In the far left corner, a young woman sits a large marble desk. On the other side of the room, in the first three chairs sits three children: a teenage girl and two younger boys. All three spin around to look at Meda.

The girl has long, wavy black hair with light blue eyes. She watches Meda with curiosity. The boy next to her has blond, wavy hair with the girl’s blue eyes. He turns around completely sitting on his knees to get a better view as Meda makes her way to the receptionist’s desk. When Meda looks over at him, the boy hides behind the back of the chair almost like he’s playing peek-a-boo. Meda smiles. Peeking out, the boy returns the smile.

Meda’s smile fades as the other boy nudges the smiling one. This boy has black hair like the girl but with eyes as dark as his hair. Meda wonders if they are all related in some way but quickly stops. The dark haired boy glares at her with a kind of contempt that should not exist in a child. His eyes are dark enough to get lost in but with the malicious tinge in them now make them an abyss.

Reaching the receptionist, Meda tries to forget about her audience.

“Ambassador Olympus.”

The young woman behind the desk can’t be much older than Meda but wears a suit with an air of sophistication. Her light brown hair is wrapped in a delicate chignon.

She raises her finger and then points to her ear. Meda waits trying not to look back at the children. A few seconds later, the receptionist impatiently waves Meda to take a seat still without saying a word, not even to the person in her ear.

Meda sits down on the first chair in the first row in front of the desk keeping as far away from the children as possible. She stares at the desk waiting to be summoned.

The blond boy glides into the seat next to her. Meda leans away in surprise.

“Hello.” He says with a youthful joy. His excitement radiates off him as he bounces in the chair.

Unable to resist, Meda smiles.

“Hello.”

The boy’s eyes grow wide with wonder. He opens his mouth to say something but closes it again. He looks back at the other children, probably his siblings. The girl’s expression is full of concern while the other boy shakes his head in disapproval.

Resolved in his adventure, the blond boy turns back to Meda with serious determination and whispers.

“Are you an Earthling?”

The word comes out whimsical like she is a myth reborn. Meda laughs. The sober expression fades and he joins in on Meda’s laughing. Meda leans in and whispers back.

“Yes.”

The boy’s eyes grow wider than before with his mouth in an “O” of surprise.

Meda laughs again.

“How can you tell?”

Before the boy can answer, the girl creeps over avoiding the receptionist view. She grabs the boy’s arm gentle.

“Kronos, come.” Her voice is forcefully stern but not effective.

Kronos shakes off her hand. He leans into the girl.

“But she’s an Earthling!”

His voice is full of amazement that even the girl can’t deny.

“Really?” The same curiosity from the boy litters her tone. She looks at Meda in awe as Kronos nods.

“Yes, but I was wondering how you could tell?” Meda asks Kronos again.

Again Kronos tries to answer but the girl beats him to it.

“The clothes, of course.” She states as if it’s obvious. Thinking of how the guard accosted Meda maybe it is.

Kronos glances at the girl with annoyance only a little brother could have but nods.

“And you look uncomfortable.” He says sheepishly.

Both Meda and the girl stare at Kronos baffled by his astute observation. He just shrugs.

“I’m Meda, by the way.”

As Meda extends her hand, a chime dings from down the hallway. Movement catches everyone’s attention as the remaining boy jumps out of his chair. He runs to the activity.

The girl grabs Kronos’s arm, which is raised to touch Meda’s. They both stand.

From the hallway, the little dark haired boy walks hand in hand with a tall, olive-skinned woman. Her long, straight black hair would revival Cleopatra’s, and her eyes are as dark and bottomless as the boy beside her.

Meda realizes that she must be their mother.

The girl and Kronos slowly slink away from Meda and stand at the beginning of the aisle with their heads down.

The woman looks at the children with only the expression a disappointed parent can give. The boy at her side smirks in superior satisfaction.

The woman’s gaze falls to Meda. Her entire face changes. It’s not the look of disgust like the guard and emigration woman or the scorn like her son’s. Her look is pure hatred. Meda tries not to shiver but fails.

The woman jerks her head forward. Not touching her misbehaved children, she walks past them.

“Come.” is all she says. Her voice is firm but still carries a velvety texture. It was the same command from the girl a few minute before but she gave power in the one word that the girl could not.

The children follow heads still hanging.

Meda watches as the family walks to the double door. The woman and favored child stride in confidence while the girl and Kronos linger.

As the doors dissolve, Kronos turns around and waves.

“Bye, Meda By The Way.”

The woman sharply grabs Kronos’s arm leading him through the doors. She shoots one more glare of daggers at Meda, who is now standing with her hand halfway in the air, before exiting.

Meda stares at the double doors and then bursts out laughing.

A deep voice clears behind Meda. She turns to see a tall, lean caramel-skinned man in a pin-stripped suit. His build is that of a runner or swimmer with broad shoulders and narrow waist. The suit fits him to perfection but it's his eyes that hold Meda's attention. They are as blue as the Carolina sky before a summer storm with just a hint of grey. They are breathtaking against his dark skin. His face is all angles with a strong jaw and Roman nose.

A smile plays on his full lips. Meda glances away blushing for being caught looking at his lips.

When she looks back up into his eyes, the humor is gone. His face is all business.

"Ambassador Olympus with see you now." His voice is sharp but with a smoothness of honey. Not trusting her own voice, Meda just nods.

He turns on his heels and strides to the small hallway. Meda follows a few steps behind.

Another keypad is between two metal doors. He slides his hand under it. The door on the right vanishes revealing an elevator lift. He ushers Meda into the elevator. The doors reappear.

With a slight jerk, the elevator rises. Meda doesn't feel the ascent but knows it's moving.

She becomes very aware of how close they are standing and resists the urge to look at him. She feels an electric pulse between them and wonders if he does too. She bites her lower lip.

Interrupting the silence, he asks, " So who are you?" His tone is more accusative than curious.

Meda looks over at him. He keeps looking forward.

"Just a visitor." She shrugs in an effort to be nonchalant.

He huffs, not believing her. He turns to her staring into her eyes.

"The Ambassador doesn't waste his time on visiting Earthlings. So I ask again, who are you?"

The intensity of his stare weakens Meda. She wants to tell him everything. She shakes her head in an attempt to clear it and stares forward at the doors. The elevator slightly jerks again to stop, and the doors open.

They both step out into a smaller waiting room with another marble desk next to a wooden door.

The man takes her bag from her shoulder tossing it next to the desk like it is weightless.

Reaching the door, he turns back to Meda.

"Can I have your name?"

"W-why?" Meda stutters.

He laughs.

"I need to introduce you."

"Oh, I'm Meda." She blurts out embarrassed.

He raises an eyebrow.

"I mean, Andromeda Valhalla."

Both eyebrows fly up in surprise. Shaking his head, he slides his hand under another keypad next to the door.

The door swings open this time. The man walks in and stops on the other side of the door.

"Andromeda Valhalla." He announces.

He nods his head for Meda to enter. She moves to his left directly in the middle of the office.

The room is lined with wooden bookcases piled with leather bound books. Behind a wooden desk stands a tall, stocky man with blond hair and little blue eyes. Meda freezes at her father with a face so similar to her own, except for the eyes.

He smiles at her but it doesn't meet his eyes. He looks over at the young black man.

"That will be all, Azure."

Azure nods. He walks out closing the door behind him.

Father and daughter stare in awkward silence. Meda opens her mouth to say something but closes it immediately. Her father smiles at that. He gestures to the chair in front of his desk.

"Please, have a seat, Andromeda."

Meda moves to the chair never taking her eyes off his face.

"Meda.” Her name comes out harsher than she intended “I go by Meda." She says sheepishly.

Her father gives her a pensive look.

"Meda?" he repeats tastings the nickname to see if he likes it. "Why do you go by Meda? Do you not like Andromeda?” His voice sounds hurt but he creases his eyebrows as if challenging her.

Up for the challenge, she replies, "I know it's you and mom's star but it's kind of a mouthful."

He laughs, more of surprise than humor.

"I can see your point." He studies her closer. "So your mother told you about your name?" He grows sad remembering at time long ago. "I didn't think she would."

“She told me a lot about you, Killian.” Meda lies. Most everything she knows about her father came from Tahl, not Deirdre. She was always too heartbroken to talk about him.

Obviously not wanting to talk about her mother, he says, “I suppose I’m at a lose then cause I know nothing about you.”

“Whose fault is that?” Meda mutters under her breath

Killian hears her and scowls. Ignoring her comment, he continues, “Well, let’s see if we can change that.”

He stands abruptly. He walks to the door that opens without instigation and holds his hand out to Meda.

“Shall we?” The challenge is back in his voice.

Meda jumps out of her chair and walks past her father back into the waiting room. She creeps to the desk to grab her bag.

Azure stands at attention staring between the father and daughter.

“Azure, cancel the rest of the day.”

“But, sir--”

Killian glares at Azure. His stance is full of power. He is not Meda’s father at the moment; he is the Ambassador.

“Yes, sir.” Azure says looking away.

Killian looks back at Meda. His face softens instantly.

“Come.”

They both board the elevator, leaving Azure with a puzzled expression behind his desk.