Technocracy: AETHER, Part 2

That evening, Saera was reading in bed. She was getting a head start on reading for Monday, because there would be a test on the novel they’d been assigned for English class. She had already showered and changed into her pajamas.

“Saera?”

“Oh, yes, Mama!” said Saera brightly, as her mother came into the room. “Hello!”

“I just wanted to tell you good night,” said Aemelia. “I have to be at the office early tomorrow for a weekend work session, so it’s possible I won’t see you by the time you wake up. If I have to leave that early, call Ms. Meni and she can take you where you need to go.”

“Yes, Mama,” said Saera.

Aemelia smiled at her. “You seem so happy these days. It’s nice. I’m so happy to see you happy.”

Saera thought of how wondrous the last few months had been. “I am happy, Mama. I’m the happiest I have been in…” she waved a pale hand around, “forever.”

“I’m glad.” Aemelia kissed her on the cheek. “Good night, sweetie.”

“Good night!” said Saera. Aemelia closed the door to Saera’s bedroom. Then Saera swirled the air around herself, and hovered off the bed and onto her feet. She padded to the bathroom, where she brushed her teeth. Then she climbed into bed, and shut off the light, and drifted, slowly, into slumber.

Marin was playing a video game on her phone that evening, as she laid on the bed. Her mother had recently gotten her new pillows and comforters, and her bed was even more comfy than it had been before. She nuzzled herself against the expensive bedding, and felt great contentment.

“Darling?”

“Oh, hey Mom!” said Marin, turning as Bellona came into the room. Bellona was wearing her pajamas. They were a set of pajamas Marin had not seen from her before: they were black, and seemed to totally absorb the light of Marin’s lamp. It was a matte black, a heavy, dense black.

“Just wanting to remind you that we may have to pick up Saera tomorrow,” said Bellona. “Ms. Alhimov has to work early at the office, so we may need to go get Saera ourselves. So be prepared to leave early, if necessary.”

“Sure thing, Mom.”

“And by that, I mean you really ought to get to sleep. It’s late.”

Marin sighed, puffing out a breath. “All right, all right.”

Bellona stood over Marin then. Marin’s sapphire blue eyes shifted her way, and when she saw her mother, something twitched inside her. Bellona was looking at her in a very peculiar way. It was a look that seemed… interested. Interested… but not caring.

“Mom?”

“Darling,” said Bellona, “you and your friends… you’ve been going out to Terry’s house for months. I know you all seem to have been working on… something.”

A shudder ran up Marin’s spine. “Uh, uh, yeah,” said Marin, the water in the glass next to her freezing a little more as she stammered. “Just a, you know, a fun project.”

“Ah, I see,” said Bellona. “Did you finish it? Have you accomplished what you set out to do?”

Marin thought of what had happened to her. To Ardo. To Saera. To Terry. She grinned. “Yeah. Yeah, we absolutely did.”

“Wonderful. Then I suppose it is time.”

Marin arched a navy blue eyebrow. “Time? Time for what?”

“You’ll see,” said Bellona. She kissed Marin on the forehead. “Good night, darling. See you when you wake up.” And she turned, and left the room.

Marin shook her head, as her mother closed the door. What had that odd feeling been? She’d never felt that way around anyone before, especially not her own mother. “Oh well,” she shrugged, hopping out of bed. “I’ll figure it out later.”

So Marin padded into her bathroom. She showered and dried. She flossed, and then brushed her teeth. She changed into her nightgown. Then, finally, she powered down her phone, and shut off her lamp, and climbed into bed. She fell asleep relatively quickly, blue eyes fluttering closed.

Ardo was drawing at his desk. He was coloring with red, swooping, abstract lines. Ever since his full connection with Fire, Ardo had found himself drawn to the colors of flame: red, orange, yellow, white, blue. He couldn’t stop using them, in all his recent drawings, doodles, and digital sketches. He pulled back from his drawing, briefly, and stared at it, trying to decide what to do next. He snapped his fingers idly, flickers of sparks appearing with each snap.

“Principe?”

“Oh,” he said, turning around. Martha and Maria were standing in the doorway. “Hey, aunties!”

“Principe, we really do think you should go to bed,” said Martha. “It’s late. Weren’t you going to hang out with your friends tomorrow?”

Ardo gritted his teeth. “Just fifteen more minutes.”

“You said that half an hour ago,” said Maria. “It’s time, Bernardo.”

Ardo sighed. They both had their arms crossed, a sure sign that there would be no arguing tonight. “Fine, fine,” he said.

Maria smiled. “We just want to look out for you, Ardo.”

“I know, I know,” said Ardo. He came up to them and gave them all hugs. “Love you, aunties. Thanks so much for caring about me.”

Maria kissed him on his brown forehead. “We’ll always love you, principe.”

Martha kissed him on the forehead as well. “Yes,” she said. “You’re near and dear to us.”

“Aww,” said Ardo, drawing them both into a big hug.

“You seem so much happier these days, Bernardo,” said Maria. “You seem… peaceful.”

Ardo smiled. “I guess I am.” He felt the heat in his chest, and grinned broadly. “I figured something important out, and now I know how things are. I am happy.”

“That’s so wonderful,” said Maria.

“I’m glad you are at peace, Bernardo,” said Martha. “Sweet dreams, and see you tomorrow.” She went out the door; Maria followed her, and shut the door behind her as she left.

Ardo yawned. “Shit,” he said. “I guess I am tired.” So, he sighed. He didn’t always like sleeping. There was a part of him, sometimes, that would have preferred not to sleep at all, just so he could stay awake all night and get lots of things done. But he needed sleep, And he was supposed to meet the others tomorrow.

So he went and showered. And he dried off, and dressed in his pajamas. Then he brushed his teeth, and turned off his lights, and climbed into bed. He lay there, and tossed and turned some, for more than an hour, his restless heart and mind churning to keep him awake. But, in the end, tiredness won, and Ardo’s ruby red eyes closed, and he slept.

Terry was reading for class. For English; he was reading a novel, the same novel that Saera had been reading earlier in the evening. He had read and read, for hours. He was actually getting pretty close to the end of the book. He was almost at the finale.

But he glanced at the digital clock on his bedside table. “Yeesh,” he said, seeing the time. He was used to putting himself to bed, since of course his father would never bother to actually make sure he got to bed on time. He knew it was time for him to sleep, since he needed to be up in time to meet the others on the morrow.

Speaking of his father, Terry hopped off his bed and walked into the living room. As he had suspected, his father was passed out. He wasn’t even on the couch; he had fallen and passed out on the floor. The lamp, again, had been knocked over. Fortunately, it had not broken. Terry sighed. But he was, actually, not sad and depressed. Ever since he had fully connected with the element of Earth, he had felt a completeness in his heart, a sense that his soul was full, that a piece of it that had been missing was, finally, back where it belonged. So he felt a kind of natural cheerfulness these days, which he had not always felt before.

So, he was not overly depressed to see the miserable drunken mess of his father. Or, he was less depressed than he might have been at various points in the past. Instead, he shook his head gently, and walked over to the fallen man. He grunted and hoisted the man up; Terry was almost as tall as his father now, which meant when he reached his full height he would probably be even taller. He dragged his father out of the living room, into his bedroom. His bed, as usual, was unmade; Terry had not had the time or the inclination to make it in a while. Terry dropped him into the wraggled sheets, and slowly covered him up. He made sure to lay his father on his side, with his face facing the floor, so that if he vomited in his sleep he wouldn’t choke to death. And Terry stood there, for a moment, staring at the miserable man who was his father. And he felt neither anger nor disgust. What he felt was pity, and sympathy. He leaned in, and actually kissed his father on the forehead. “Good night,” he whispered.

Then Terry left the room. The lamp was still lying on the ground. Terry saw it glint, and remembered that it was metal. On a hunch, he reached out with his hand and his soul, and he felt it. The metal was him and he was the metal. So he could move it, and he twitched his wrist, and the lamp sprang back upright, rattling a little on its broad, circular base before it settled into place, as good as if it had never fallen down at all. Terry smiled. He grinned fiercely. He really was getting the hang of this.

Then he went to his bathroom. He brushed his teeth first, and he flossed. Then he showered, and padded, naked, back to his room. He dressed in his pajamas, and was about to climb into bed. But he paused, and then he looked straight up, up at the ceiling of his bedroom. “Thank You,” he said, up at the ceiling, up at what lay beyond. “Thank You. Thank You for everything.”

Then he climbed into bed. He breathed, slowly and evenly, until, finally, he fell asleep.

So the Elementals slept, and so, all of them dreamed.