Earthburst, p.1
Earthburst, page 1
About the Author
Dan Megill was raised in rural Pennsylvania, the fourth of four homeschooled children, and graduated from Dartmouth College in 2007. He began Earthburst while working in international aid, a career which took him to 15 countries across 5 continents, but he has since settled near Atlanta, where he keeps a different sort of books for a nonprofit health clinic.
Acknowledgments
I began Earthburst in the Atlas Mountains in early 2010, where I was visiting an orphanage. I had slow internet and it was too cold to leave my bed at night, so I decided to write something. I looked at my list of Facebook friends and the first one was “Aaron”. That morphed into “Airn” and I was off. On and off, really. I finished it in March 2012 and started work on the sequel later that year, but got very little done from 2013-2017, and it wasn’t until 2020 that I finished the book 3 manuscript at the Kims’ dining room table.
I owe thanks to too many people who I’ve known in that time, and before. I will list only some of them.
Thanks to the FPL crowd, for being the first place I wrote for fun. 3D and Hexx and Kane and Bryn and Marks and many others. I just hope no one ever finds what I wrote back then.
Thanks to my many beta readers. I’m sure I missed some, but here they are listed in approximate order of where they appear in my email history:
Kim, my first attempt at external accountability
Abar and Nicki, most faithful of friends, too much for a blurb to say
Daniel and Noah, encouraging and patient (Daniel lived with me for a time, poor soul)
Wan, who lit up a few seasons of my life
Erich, roommate and birthday buddy
Rebekah, another source of warmth in another season
Freise, who should really hang out with me more
Vyenna, kinder to me than I had any right to expect, given our limited acquaintance
Andrew and Esther, who believe I am cleverer than I am
Rick and Phyllis, who welcomed me when I was alone
Lindsey, who was kind to me in a low moment
Melissa, longtime correspondent and source of much feedback
Claire, who showed me what pursuing creativity looks like
Jay, who showed me the ideal one-on-one male hangout
Karen, princess of cats and queen among interns
Emma, who liked it more than I expected
Naomi, homeschoolers are the best
Sonia, a lovable, trusting, all-too-prankable soul
Lucy, who fed me more than anyone in 2009-2010
Mara, who bloomed where she was planted
Paul, a good Juba friend, I hope you’re still cleaning up on the frisbee field
Sharon, who I count a fellow lodgeling, always a joy to be around
Wendy, the perfumed lady
Pangle, best sing-along buddy and idea man
Joel, family friend who has graciously given tips
Noelle, who offered believable compliments and helpful feedback
Austin, friend in a few countries
Charle (sic), another frisbee buddy I may never see again
David and Susan, I wouldn’t have picked them for sci-fi fans but they offered so much support
Bob, a good friend, dog and all
Josh and Tori, my best pals in the Lotus
David K, always happy to have a sincere discussion of silly matters
Ansley, who always has a smile
Daniel, I’m sorry we don’t play the same games :)
As long as that list is, I’m sure I’m missing many beta readers, and many more to whom I owe thanks just for life stuff.
Thanks especially to Kelley Meck, good friend, gracious host, encouraging beta reader, and capable editor. If you, gentle reader, happen upon any part of the Earthburst trilogy that needed some editing, I assure you that Kelley suggested edits but I was too stubborn.
Not listed among the beta readers are my family members. “Bladed Mint Jar” or “Lt Ram Jedi Band”, depending on which word scramble we’re going with this year. I am grateful to my parents for homeschooling us kids, raising us in the Word, and loving us so well all my life, and to my siblings for always being supportive, hilarious, and sold out for Jesus. My in-laws have only made the family better, and my niblings, too, are growing in wisdom and stature and good beta readers. My family is the great blessing of my life.
And above all, I thank Jesus Christ, my savior and my God. Earthburst is a simple story, not overtly Christian, but I pray it reflects His light. JJ SDG.
-Dan Megill
Table of Contents
Part 1: Potential
Part 2: Childhood’s End
Part 3: Flight
Part 4: Survival
Part 5: The Gift of Hope
Part 6: Lost
Part 7: A New Dawn
Epilogue
Earthburst
By Dan Megill
Part 1: Potential
“Your birther was a squad leader, Airn, soon to take the short road, and she continued to lead her squad, well into her pregnancy. Why, there were whispers among the trainees that she wished to continue hunting, even past the date when Father forbids it, but then trainees waste all their time gossiping, and any trainees from your birth-time took a Road a long time ago.”
Airn smiled up from Ela’s lap. Though his own caremother discouraged such needless digging into the past, there was little for the unculturated youth (unyu for short) to occupy themselves with, before coming into their ru, and since the caremothers were overburdened with charges, she was happy to leave Airn with Ela. And Ela knew the past. She was the oldest caremother in the clan, had been caremother to Airn’s birther before him, and hundreds of others. For over fifty years she had seen unyu to their culturation.
“Tell me about her battles, Ela.”
“Oh, child, I have seen but one battle in my life, and that one I ran from. I am not one to ask of battles, certainly not your birther’s.”
“Ela, you must know. Didn’t they sing, in those days?”
“Oh, of course they sang, but singing is not my gift.”
“Then give me your memory. I don’t need it sung. Please Ela?”
“A clever twist of words, boy. I shall miss that when you become a fighter. Listen then, to an old tale of heroism, of one who may—or may not—” She smiled at this, and Airn smiled back “—have been your birther.”
Airn leaned back into Ela and closed his eyes, so he could imagine each scene as she described it.
“So, young Airn, what shall we name our great warrior of antiquity?”
“Mwa, like my caremother. Perhaps it would please her to be a great warrior.”
Ela chuckled. “Very good. Mwa, then. So, Mwa had been culturated only a few months before, and her physicality left much to be desired. She’d always been a great ru wielder, even from the first days of targeting, she could hit the farthest targets, destroy the strongest ones. Most of us can only fire from our hands, but with a little concentration she could launch a respectable ru blast from any part of her body. She was a shaper, too, a skill even more rare then than it is now. In her later days she would, for a demonstration, block a blast from any wielder in the clan. Huya can teach you the basics of shielding, and indeed he’s our best warrior now, but he couldn’t block a caremother’s best shot. Rhee—“
“—You mean Mwa—”
“Of course.” Ela blushed at her mistake but moved on quickly “Mwa. Mwa would select the hottest young trainees, coursing with ru, to test her shield. She would stand in the path of the blast; such was her confidence.”
“But Ela, would they really try to break the shield then? I hope not. I couldn’t shoot at another wielder if I thought it might hit them.”
Ela loosed another warm chuckle. “An 11 like yourself couldn’t fire ru at another wielder at all. Wait until targeting begins, lad. It’s only a few months.”
Airn frowned at the childlike treatment, but he knew that to argue would interrupt the story, and even Ela might not be ready to see his counterargument. He looked back up at Ela, and she knew what he wanted.
“Right, the story. I was so busy talking about her later life. What was her name again?”
“Mwa.”
“Yes, Mwa. So Mwa, practically still rubbing the sleep from her eyes after her culturation coma, is marching down a nearby pathway, munching a biscuit. She’d been training all day, but falling behind the other trainees was a new experience for her, so she wanted to find a place away from the camp to work on her physicality. She didn’t take to culturation like most unyu do. Some folks thought she didn’t have it at all, her skin was so unchanged, early on. So she’s walking, scanning the trees for a place to practice, and what do you think she sees? The shifting grey of a puddler, come to spy on the village. We lived in mostly tamed country, back then, so this was pretty unusual. Anyway, she saw it, but it didn’t move. We never could figure out why. Well, Mwa she just gathered up some ru and flung it at the puddler, up in its tree—she had sharp eyes, your birther—and poof, one less deceiver in the world.”
“One paralyzed puddler? I could—“
“If you’d let me tell the story,” Ela cut in, smiling and giving the boy the lightest of cuffs, “Well, she was feeling pretty good about herself until the leaves and branches disappeared from that tree and it coiled down around itself.”
“You mean?”
“Yep. So Mwa starts backing home, gathering up more ru, because a puddler, miragist, and worm all near camp had to mean more than just a spy mission. Mea nwhile, the worm starts coming after her, with the miragist on top. Not full speed-like, but definitely catching up. Well, she doesn’t know what to do. She can’t outrun them, and certainly not with her physical state, and only a fool would take on a worm and a miragist alone, so what does she do? But they’re catching up slow, giving all this time to think about. The worm’s not roaring. The miragist has his hands out, not a shuriken in sight, no doubles of him, all the world as true as you and me. Honestly Airn, sometimes I wonder if that girl was still unculturated enough to lie, when she first told this story, but I even asked her, years later, when you could barely see her skin for culturation, and she looked right at me and said, in that grave way fighters have, ‘It was true.’ Last words she ever said to me, matter of fact. She took the short road a few months later.”
“But what about the worm? It sounds like she was ready to long-road it right then and there!”
“It does, doesn’t it? But the worm got about twenty paces from her and stayed that far off, and the miragist started singing or something. She couldn’t quite tell. Well, at this point, the poor girl’s running as fast as she can, but she still can’t lose the worm, so she launches some ru—a huge blast, it must have been—at an upcoming tree by the road. It starts tipping, and she just misses it, but she catches the worm on its tail. Well it lets up a big shriek, and for a second she thinks she’s beaten it, so she stops, but no, it was only the tip. The worm shook off the tree and kept coming.”
“How big was the tree?”
“Y’know, I never asked. Anyway, Mwa’s standing there, and, true as I’m standing here, the miragist tries out some new trick on her. She said it felt like leaves rustling inside her head, and for a second, she couldn’t concentrate, whether it was surprise or the technique or what. That worm came up, but instead of gulping her up it just coiled around her. She said she couldn’t move her arms or hardly breathe. Well, the miragist walks down to her from where he was riding, pulls her hair aside, and looks at her culturation spot.”
“What? Why?”
“I don’t know, boy. The deceivers’ ways are too crooked for me. Anyway, he sees it, then he reaches down to his belt for a blade. I guess whatever he saw, he didn’t like. Well, Mwa’s been waiting for her chance, but she realizes, right then and there, that she’s done for if she doesn’t do something fast. So the miragist has his blade and is looking down at her, and she manages to fire the killing shot out of her head!”
Airn was suitably impressed. No warrior of his clan who had not yet taken a road had any versatility in their ru wielding. Certainly none could fire a killing blow thus. Airn squirmed delightedly and looked up at her, waiting for her to continue.
“So Mwa’s taken out a puddler and a miragist, but the big one’s still left, and she’s trapped by it. She’s not fuzzy in the head anymore, so she starts firing everything she’s got out of her trapped hands, while the dumb worm’s still sitting there. It doesn’t like those blasts at all, so it lets her drop. Now she’s got her hands free, so she’s throwing all she can, and the worm, it just slithers off, dodging what it can, taking what it can’t.”
“Strange story, Ela.”
“Wasn’t it? I promise you: you’ll never hear again of someone fighting off a worm singlehanded, but hey boy, you’ve got her blood. Maybe you have her ru too.”
“I hope so, Ela.”
Ela gave him another wrinkled smile. “I will miss you when you take the culture, boy. I can’t wait to see you in Paradise.”
“Ela, even when I’m the oldest hunter, I’ll still come to you, don’t worry.”
Ela managed what she thought was a convincing smile. “As long as I have your word, boy. You just make sure you survive, stay on the short road. Now go. I’ve got charges to look after and you’re not one of ‘em. What would Father say if Wowo fell off a cliff while I was sitting here gabbing with you of things past?”
“Of course Ela. Thank you. Bye.”
“Bye boy.”
And they parted ways, Ela thinking of the thousand unyu she’d known and lost, and she knew that this would keep happening, even with Airn, promise or no. She knew it was right, but it didn’t make it easy. Part of what made her such a good and long-serving caremother was the simple fact that she loved each unyu. Soon though, she would take her own road to Paradise, where they would all be reunited again, and that, truly, would be a sweet day.
Airn, heart full of the marvelous story, nevertheless breathed only one thought to himself as he ran out of the village to attempt his birther’s skill: “her name was Rhee.”
###
“Welcome, 11s, to target practice. You’re the seventh crop I’ve seen. I warn you, the 10s were a fine class, the best I’ve had, so I won’t be easily impressed. Well, take your stalls and commence!”
The target range for the day was just a series of clay objects—misshapen balls, mostly—on a hillside. Since this was the first day, they were intentionally fragile, and arranged at random on the slope. On later days there would be regimentation, tests of a wielder’s ru strength, versatility, and accuracy, but on the first day, the unyu had merely to demonstrate that they wielded at least a spark. Unyu were not supposed to try their ru at all, before the commencement of training, but of course they all had. Indeed, Father would have been distressed if it were not so, but the rule served its intended purpose of preventing ru from being wielded in the squabbles of the unyu. Even at their age, damage could be done.
Airn called up a sphere to his hand, savoring the feel of it, the freedom that was now his, to use his power when he wished. The other unyu were firing now. Targets chipped and shattered and dirt exploded in puffs—very small puffs—from the long-ruined hillside. An indigo head poked around the back of his stall.
“Having trouble with your ru, Airn?” Marn giggled, “You’ve got a sphere there. Just throw it!”
Marn went back to her own stall and Airn could see her blue spheres start to fly again. They weren’t strong, but that would come, and she was demonstrating impressive frequency. Airn squared his shoulders, straightened his arm at a distant target, and released his first official ru blast. He missed. But only narrowly, and an impressive cloud of dirt was kicked up, far more than any of his fellow 11s were managing, though it was minimized by distance. Very good. Airn knew, even already, that he had great ru. He had discussed the possibility with Ela, and he was taking her advice now, and not showing off. There was plenty of time to practice strength in the forest. This practice time could be spent on accuracy. He called a smaller blast and, this time, hit that distant target. Airn grinned.
###
Three months into their training, Airn was still cautious about showing off his ru strength too much, but, in the realm of physical training, he had no need to worry about being mistaken for the best. They’d been on the field all day, climbing and sprinting and wrestling, but now, before meal, they came to the obstacle course. He tripped going over the hill. Weaving between the trees, he ducked one branch only to rise into another, causing him to momentarily see stars. His coverall was too loose, and during the swim it slowed him down. Still, crossing the line at the end, Airn was pleased to see that he wasn’t last, or even close to it. Marn had beaten him of course—she would be insufferable afterwards—and Duk, Hun, Yels, and Gil, but the majority of the group he had bested. Airn sat down, out of breath and rubbing his aching head, and waited while the others finished the circuit.
“Airn.”
“Yes trainer?”
“Father requests that you run it again.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“…Why?”
This earned him a pointed look from his trainer. “Father requests…”
