The Orb

I stared up at the ceiling above my bed. How they thought I would be able to get sleep after the task they’ve given me was on beyond me. All I could think about what how this could all go horribly wrong. That or it’s some weird prank because of the IR.

I rolled on my side and shut my eyes, trying to will myself to sleep.

Another detention. My classmates all laughed at me as they left the room. I gulped thickly as the teacher shut the door and locked it. I got my notebook out of my bookbag with shaking hands and started to copy down the school’s mission statement, as per the rules of detention. I knew better, though.

He placed a hand on my shoulder. I started to shake more as he started to massage the shoulder. He put his other hand on my desk and I could see his manhood just inches from my face. I thought about all the times he had done this in the past, giving me bogus detention slips just to rape me after class, and something in my snapped.

In one swift movement, I brought my hand down and broke his arm. He screamed and fell to the floor. I gathered my things as he swore at me, calling me all manner of names. The door burst open and the principal stood there with security, looking pleased but sad.

He would tell me later that he had suspected the teacher of doing this to girls who came from group homes like me. It wasn’t until after he was exposed that other girls came out with their own stories.

But then they let him out of jail.

My alarm started to blare and I rubbed my eyes. I smacked the off button, vaguely registering that this would be the last time I would hear it in a while. I changed into a pair of skinny black jeans, my training boots, and a black T-shirt. I lived in the same compound as the rest of the group. I had since the day I came to them. The dorms were separated by gender and rank and I was given one of the best.

The previous night, I had taken care of everything. I left a note in my desk to be found by whoever got my room if I didn’t make it back and said good bye to my only other friend, the night clerk. The training room was on the third floor and I went to sign in.

“You’ll be in room four,” the receptionist said. “Good luck. I know he’s just the coffee guy, but this dude is really good at fighting.”

I tried not to smile. “I’m sure he is.”

Coffee was waiting for me with a large book in his hands. The door shut and locked behind me.

“Your training will not be physical,” he said when I asked him what stance to take. “Instead, I will be teaching you what you need to know about our home. And your adversary.”

He pointed to a chair and I sat. Usually the training rooms were filled with other people, machines, and weapons for us to practice with. This one just had a desk and a projector. Coffee pressed the power button on the projector. I watched with humor as he slid a picture slide into it. He saw and chuckled.

“Well, we do tend to be old school,” he said and pointed to the screen. I gaped. “This is a broader look at our home.”

“That’s amazing,” I said.

It looked like something from the early 1900’s with brickwork buildings and cobble stoned streets. Horses were drawing carriages and women were dressed in uncomfortable dresses while the men wore suits. But that wasn’t what surprised me. It was the steampunk esque style. Dirigibles dotted the skies among the smoke from the chimneys. Hang gliders powered by pedaling hovered at the height of the rooftops.

Coffee switched to a different slide. This one showed the inside of a building.

“Electricity was not as you are familiar with,” he explained. “At the time, we had not perfected the arts that Sir Tesla did. To our knowledge, even now they have not made the advancements of holding it in wires and in the walls. Instead, they do this.”

A man was on a bike, looking like he was pedaling. Beside him was a coil.

“He pedals and creates electricity,” I said. “I guess they have to switch people out during the day?”

“Each main building has a room for this specific purpose,” he answered. “For the larger buildings, we have a different arrangement.”

“What kind of arrangement?”

He smiled and put in the next picture. I jumped to my feet.

“Is that-?”

“A dragon,” he said. “Now, before you try to go PETA on me, this one is not enslaved.”

The picture was in black and white but the dragon had to be as large as the room we were in now. It was curled up like a cat but its mouth was open and flames were shooting at another coil.

“We don’t quite know how it works,” Coffee said. “But the dragon’s fire activates the coil to our needs.”

“Why not use magick?” I asked, still in awe.

“Because there are things that even it cannot do. The others and I were humble subjects of this world. We had a king and a queen, but this town was not near the capitol. I was a leatherworker and this building was where I spent most of my time. You will learn that there are those who can communicate with dragons. Unfortunately, I was not one of them.” He looked sad. “She could, though.”

“The woman I’m pursuing?” I asked and he nodded.

“That’s what makes her so dangerous.”

“Not the magick and knowledge about other worlds?”

“Take a moment to imagine,” he said. “If she can travel through time and worlds, what stops her from bringing other things with her?”

“But- But I thought she was after the Orb.”

“That’s what we’re assuming, yes, but it’s important that you understand there is more damage she can do. That is why we, unfortunately, must have her eliminated.”

I rubbed my eyes. “Wait. That picture you showed me yesterday: you guys don’t look any different. What’s to stop her from blending in with the past you?”

“That would require killing her past self, something not even she would be stupid enough to do. That would be killing her present self as well. No, she will be in hiding somewhere in our home village. The time she went to, and that you will be going to, is about one month prior to us finding the Orb.”

“Right.”

For the rest of the afternoon, he told me about their home and how it was a place of wonder. The book had more than what the projector could give me. It had the history of their monarchy, the names of the current rulers, and even more pictures of the people. Each picture reminded me of different period movies with modern twists. Even though the implications of this task were enormous, a part of me was excited.

“You won’t be going in your current outfit,” he said once we had reached the end. “You’ll stick out quite horribly.”

The door opened and Slacker came in carrying a bag. She pulled out a long maroon dress with sleeves that poofed slightly at the shoulders. I wrinkled my nose and she laughed.

“It was all the rage back then,” she said. “You’ll fit right in. When you get to the inn, ask Ongar for a job to pay for the room and more clothing. Unfortunately, we did not bring any of our currency with us when we came here with the Orb.”

I took the dress. It was heavy cotton with silk on the inside. At least it felt nice, even if it did look horrid.

“So, when do I go?” I asked.

“As soon as you're dressed,” Coffee said. “But you won’t change here. You’ll do so in the room. Meet us there in thirty minutes.”

I did a mock salute as they both left. I stared at the dress in my hands and the book on the table. When I opened it, all the information and pictures were gone.