“Felix!” Lithuania cried, her hands over her mouth. She remained immobile, thrilled at the sight of him but refusing to move any closer. It didn’t befit her role as First Commander of the Foggistani Helo-Fleet to express too much delight. Felix, with a very clear give-me-a-break expression, walked towards her, placed both his hands on her shoulders, and pulled her in for a big and hearty bear hug. Lithuania stiffened at first, then sank into his embrace—a mixture of relief and gratitude rushing through her veins. Felix was tall, broad-chested and strong, and for a moment, Lithuania felt like she no longer had to live up to her role of First Commander. For a moment, Lithuania felt like she could give in to what she felt—seek protection in Felix’s burly arms, melt away and let someone else take care of her, and for once, just sit back, relax, and—
Lithuania stiffened, then politely withdrew. “I’m really happy to see you,” she said, avoiding eye contact for fear Felix might notice the welling tears.
“It’s good to see you too Lithee,” said Felix earnestly, his voice a deep bass. “It’s good to know you made it out of that chopper alive.”
Lithuania bit her lip and held her breath. She was feeling a little too emotional to talk about who had and had not made it out of the helicopter alive. “I was the only one Felix,” she blurted, looking everywhere except into Felix’s eyes. “My entire troop—and Marco—” she choked. Her eyes watered. If she uttered one more word, she would break into sobs. Felix moved in to hug her again. She let him, but remained rigid in his embrace. She would not cry. She couldn’t.
“It’s OK Lithuania,” he said soothingly, smoothing her hair. “You don’t have to be in character all the time. You can let it out.” Still, Lithuania would not cry. Felix, meanwhile, was absorbing the blow he had just been dealt: Marco’s death. He had been hoping, praying, from the moment he saw the chopper erupt in a brilliant flash of fire and light, that his friends had made it out of there alive. He had been stationed at his communication post near the edge of the woods, once again attempting unsuccessfully to establish communication with Foggistan, when he heard the dull drone of a helicopter approaching through the storm. He stepped outside of the wooden cabin, hoping against hope to see the Foggistanis coming at last, only to see the chopper spinning out of control, then explode inexplicably just a few hundred meters above the opposite end of the woods. Still, the dismay he felt at that moment was negligible compared to the shock caused by what he witnessed soon thereafter. The chopper multiplied—from one falling wreck erupted dozens more, all dropping to the earth like scorched flies, and then—all but one chopper vanished, and the one that remained crashed in a terrific roar, at some indeterminate point at the other end of the forest.
To think that Marco had died in the explosion—that his carcass was there, in the wreckage, no longer carrying his soul, his spirit… To think that he truly was gone, the friend who had been there right from the start, right from the beginning of Felix’s military career—
Felix pressed his face against the back of Lithuania’s head. He rather wanted Lithuania to start crying, just so he could feel stronger—so he could comfort her, and deal with her pain, and not have to think about his own. He wasn’t even sure what he felt at the moment. It certainly was pain, but he had no urge to cry. It was like being confronted with a truth that doesn’t actually hit home until witnessing it yourself. In theory, Felix was sad. In reality, Felix was pained. But he half-expected to be feeling sorrowful, and that emotion hadn’t quite kicked in yet.
“Lithuania,” Felix said. “None of this is your fault.” Lithuania withdrew, blinking the wetness from her eyes away. “I saw your chopper go down. It exploded for no reason whatsoever, before hitting the ground.”
Lithuania narrowed her eyes at him. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Well it’s what I saw—and that’s not the only thing. Come, follow me.” Felix led Lithuania through the woods. Over the past week, with communication between his post and Foggistan severed, he had gotten to know the terrain pretty well. As he and Lithuania walked back towards the useless radio tower, he explained how he had seen the chopper whirling out of control, explode, then turn into a dozen more choppers, all of which vanished except for one. Lithuania then explained her strange encounter with the trumpeting monster, the sudden and inexplicable wave of pain she felt, hearing Marco’s voice—
“Really, Felix,” Lithuania said, “What the hell is going on around here? It’s like everything in LusciousLocks is suddenly on crack!” Felix smiled to himself.
“We’re here,” he said. They had reached the end of the woods, and before them rose a solid, four-sided concrete tower, about eighty feet in height, with a bright red light flashing intermittently at the top.
“I thought this thing was busted,” Lithuania said.
“It isn’t. Something’s blocking our signal out of here.” He pointed up into the dark swirling clouds. “You see that hint of red over there, behind the clouds?”
Lithuania nodded. “Styx.”
“Yeah, Styx. Whatever’s blocking our signal, it’s coming from there. I just don’t know what—or how, it’s doing it. I mean, we’re known throughout the universe for the quality of our communications technology—I don’t understand who could have developed something powerful enough to counteract it.”
Lithuania looked at Felix meaningfully. “Well we’ve got our theories…” she said.
“And we can definitely discount one of them.” Lithuania started. “Remember Prince Timoteo?”
Lithuania’s eyes darkened. “Of course, the older brother of the King of LusciousLocks, was passed over for the throne, disappeared a few years back, he’s one of the suspects behind all this—what about him? You obtain some intelligence?”
Felix smiled. “Oh, we obtained some intelligence alright. Follow me.” He led Lithuania around the tower, towards a massive, seemingly immovable door of black iron. For once, Lithuania willingly allowed Felix to be a gentleman and open the door for her. She wasn’t so sure she could have done it herself anyways. Felix lugged at the groaning door, its bottom scraping noisily against the rugged cement floor of the tower’s entryway, and led Lithuania in.
It was darker in the tower than it was outside. Somewhere in the darkness Lithuania could hear a faint dripping sound. Felix pulled out his flashlight and lit the way. “This way,” he said. The inside of the tower was no different from its exterior. Poured concrete walls on all four sides, and a rusted spiraling staircase winding its way up to the top. “We’re not going up,” Felix said. Behind the foot of the spiraling staircase was a metal trap door that Felix hauled open in a single heave. Lithuania peaked in, only to see more darkness. “After you, Miss Commander.”
“Oh shut up,” said Lithuania, elbowing Felix in the ribs. “Hurry up and lead the way.” Felix grinned, then dropped down into the square of darkness.
“You need a hand?” his voice echoed from below.
Lithuania jumped in after him. “No,” she said haughtily. Her eyes continued to adjust to the growing darkness. “So what is this place?”
“Communication towers in LusciousLocks. All interconnected below ground. Fantastically built set of tunnels, if you ask me.”
“And Foggistani intelligence didn’t know about this before we came in?”
“Surprising, isn’t it?” said Felix, leading Lithuania down the damp and humid passageway. “Seems there are a lot of things us Foggistanis don’t catch wind of.”
“But LusciousLocks are our allies.”
“And it should come as no surprise to you, then, that they are our allies only out of convenience.” Lithuania glowered. Though she was walking behind him, Felix could feel Lithuania’s expression as if it were in broad daylight. “Don’t go making illusions for yourself Lithee. Corneria does not and will not trust us any time soon.”
“Oh, yey, that’s the spirit.”
“I don’t mean to offend your family history, and the whole reason why you Starrs came to Corneria two hundred years ago. But it takes more than just a few pre-installed families to build goodwill on this planet, you know.”
“I know,” snapped Lithuania. “Still, at least we’ve made a difference.”
“No doubt,” said Felix, turning down a corner. “And there’s a lot more to be done to get on 100% friendly terms with this planet. But first, we have to show them we can help LusciousLocks out of this mess.” They came upon another massive door. “Here we are.”
He pulled the door open, and led Lithuania into a room consisting of rows after rows of prison cells. There were torches hung up on the walls, their large flickering flames casting a soft, yellow glow throughout the area. “No electricity?” Lithuania asked.
“My men and I haven’t been able to restore it to the underground areas yet. These tunnels seemed to have been in disuse for decades.”
“I can’t imagine why LusciousLocks would have had any need for them.”
“Yeah. Well they’re handy.” Felix stopped short. “Now about Timoteo.” He turned around to face Lithuania directly. She peered up into his eyes intently. “Only a few days after the disappearance of the King of LusciousLocks became public knowledge, and only one day after our station lost communication with Foggistan, an unidentified spacecraft tried to cross the LusciousLockian border. Now, with all communication down, and with the storms over the country growing increasingly worse, the last thing on our minds was securing the borders. Well, turns out we didn’t have to. The moment that spacecraft crossed the border, it suffered the same fate your helicopter did.”
“What?”
Felix nodded. “It didn’t blow up, or multiply—it was just dragged inexplicably to the ground, crashing down near a communication station not far from here.” Felix began leading Lithuania towards the prison cell at the end of the hall. “However, turns out this was just a one man flight. And you know who decided to climb out of the wreckage and make an appearance?”
Felix flashed his light onto a shivering lump, huddled away at the back of the prison cell. Lithuania squinted, pressing her face against the prison bars to try and catch a clear view of the man’s face. “Is that—”
Felix nodded. “That’s right.”
There was no doubt about it. The hooded man, shivering uncontrollably at the back of the cell, was the LusciousLockian prince who had disappeared long ago. It was the King’s older brother: Prince Timoteo himself.
Lithuania stiffened, then politely withdrew. “I’m really happy to see you,” she said, avoiding eye contact for fear Felix might notice the welling tears.
“It’s good to see you too Lithee,” said Felix earnestly, his voice a deep bass. “It’s good to know you made it out of that chopper alive.”
Lithuania bit her lip and held her breath. She was feeling a little too emotional to talk about who had and had not made it out of the helicopter alive. “I was the only one Felix,” she blurted, looking everywhere except into Felix’s eyes. “My entire troop—and Marco—” she choked. Her eyes watered. If she uttered one more word, she would break into sobs. Felix moved in to hug her again. She let him, but remained rigid in his embrace. She would not cry. She couldn’t.
“It’s OK Lithuania,” he said soothingly, smoothing her hair. “You don’t have to be in character all the time. You can let it out.” Still, Lithuania would not cry. Felix, meanwhile, was absorbing the blow he had just been dealt: Marco’s death. He had been hoping, praying, from the moment he saw the chopper erupt in a brilliant flash of fire and light, that his friends had made it out of there alive. He had been stationed at his communication post near the edge of the woods, once again attempting unsuccessfully to establish communication with Foggistan, when he heard the dull drone of a helicopter approaching through the storm. He stepped outside of the wooden cabin, hoping against hope to see the Foggistanis coming at last, only to see the chopper spinning out of control, then explode inexplicably just a few hundred meters above the opposite end of the woods. Still, the dismay he felt at that moment was negligible compared to the shock caused by what he witnessed soon thereafter. The chopper multiplied—from one falling wreck erupted dozens more, all dropping to the earth like scorched flies, and then—all but one chopper vanished, and the one that remained crashed in a terrific roar, at some indeterminate point at the other end of the forest.
To think that Marco had died in the explosion—that his carcass was there, in the wreckage, no longer carrying his soul, his spirit… To think that he truly was gone, the friend who had been there right from the start, right from the beginning of Felix’s military career—
Felix pressed his face against the back of Lithuania’s head. He rather wanted Lithuania to start crying, just so he could feel stronger—so he could comfort her, and deal with her pain, and not have to think about his own. He wasn’t even sure what he felt at the moment. It certainly was pain, but he had no urge to cry. It was like being confronted with a truth that doesn’t actually hit home until witnessing it yourself. In theory, Felix was sad. In reality, Felix was pained. But he half-expected to be feeling sorrowful, and that emotion hadn’t quite kicked in yet.
“Lithuania,” Felix said. “None of this is your fault.” Lithuania withdrew, blinking the wetness from her eyes away. “I saw your chopper go down. It exploded for no reason whatsoever, before hitting the ground.”
Lithuania narrowed her eyes at him. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Well it’s what I saw—and that’s not the only thing. Come, follow me.” Felix led Lithuania through the woods. Over the past week, with communication between his post and Foggistan severed, he had gotten to know the terrain pretty well. As he and Lithuania walked back towards the useless radio tower, he explained how he had seen the chopper whirling out of control, explode, then turn into a dozen more choppers, all of which vanished except for one. Lithuania then explained her strange encounter with the trumpeting monster, the sudden and inexplicable wave of pain she felt, hearing Marco’s voice—
“Really, Felix,” Lithuania said, “What the hell is going on around here? It’s like everything in LusciousLocks is suddenly on crack!” Felix smiled to himself.
“We’re here,” he said. They had reached the end of the woods, and before them rose a solid, four-sided concrete tower, about eighty feet in height, with a bright red light flashing intermittently at the top.
“I thought this thing was busted,” Lithuania said.
“It isn’t. Something’s blocking our signal out of here.” He pointed up into the dark swirling clouds. “You see that hint of red over there, behind the clouds?”
Lithuania nodded. “Styx.”
“Yeah, Styx. Whatever’s blocking our signal, it’s coming from there. I just don’t know what—or how, it’s doing it. I mean, we’re known throughout the universe for the quality of our communications technology—I don’t understand who could have developed something powerful enough to counteract it.”
Lithuania looked at Felix meaningfully. “Well we’ve got our theories…” she said.
“And we can definitely discount one of them.” Lithuania started. “Remember Prince Timoteo?”
Lithuania’s eyes darkened. “Of course, the older brother of the King of LusciousLocks, was passed over for the throne, disappeared a few years back, he’s one of the suspects behind all this—what about him? You obtain some intelligence?”
Felix smiled. “Oh, we obtained some intelligence alright. Follow me.” He led Lithuania around the tower, towards a massive, seemingly immovable door of black iron. For once, Lithuania willingly allowed Felix to be a gentleman and open the door for her. She wasn’t so sure she could have done it herself anyways. Felix lugged at the groaning door, its bottom scraping noisily against the rugged cement floor of the tower’s entryway, and led Lithuania in.
It was darker in the tower than it was outside. Somewhere in the darkness Lithuania could hear a faint dripping sound. Felix pulled out his flashlight and lit the way. “This way,” he said. The inside of the tower was no different from its exterior. Poured concrete walls on all four sides, and a rusted spiraling staircase winding its way up to the top. “We’re not going up,” Felix said. Behind the foot of the spiraling staircase was a metal trap door that Felix hauled open in a single heave. Lithuania peaked in, only to see more darkness. “After you, Miss Commander.”
“Oh shut up,” said Lithuania, elbowing Felix in the ribs. “Hurry up and lead the way.” Felix grinned, then dropped down into the square of darkness.
“You need a hand?” his voice echoed from below.
Lithuania jumped in after him. “No,” she said haughtily. Her eyes continued to adjust to the growing darkness. “So what is this place?”
“Communication towers in LusciousLocks. All interconnected below ground. Fantastically built set of tunnels, if you ask me.”
“And Foggistani intelligence didn’t know about this before we came in?”
“Surprising, isn’t it?” said Felix, leading Lithuania down the damp and humid passageway. “Seems there are a lot of things us Foggistanis don’t catch wind of.”
“But LusciousLocks are our allies.”
“And it should come as no surprise to you, then, that they are our allies only out of convenience.” Lithuania glowered. Though she was walking behind him, Felix could feel Lithuania’s expression as if it were in broad daylight. “Don’t go making illusions for yourself Lithee. Corneria does not and will not trust us any time soon.”
“Oh, yey, that’s the spirit.”
“I don’t mean to offend your family history, and the whole reason why you Starrs came to Corneria two hundred years ago. But it takes more than just a few pre-installed families to build goodwill on this planet, you know.”
“I know,” snapped Lithuania. “Still, at least we’ve made a difference.”
“No doubt,” said Felix, turning down a corner. “And there’s a lot more to be done to get on 100% friendly terms with this planet. But first, we have to show them we can help LusciousLocks out of this mess.” They came upon another massive door. “Here we are.”
He pulled the door open, and led Lithuania into a room consisting of rows after rows of prison cells. There were torches hung up on the walls, their large flickering flames casting a soft, yellow glow throughout the area. “No electricity?” Lithuania asked.
“My men and I haven’t been able to restore it to the underground areas yet. These tunnels seemed to have been in disuse for decades.”
“I can’t imagine why LusciousLocks would have had any need for them.”
“Yeah. Well they’re handy.” Felix stopped short. “Now about Timoteo.” He turned around to face Lithuania directly. She peered up into his eyes intently. “Only a few days after the disappearance of the King of LusciousLocks became public knowledge, and only one day after our station lost communication with Foggistan, an unidentified spacecraft tried to cross the LusciousLockian border. Now, with all communication down, and with the storms over the country growing increasingly worse, the last thing on our minds was securing the borders. Well, turns out we didn’t have to. The moment that spacecraft crossed the border, it suffered the same fate your helicopter did.”
“What?”
Felix nodded. “It didn’t blow up, or multiply—it was just dragged inexplicably to the ground, crashing down near a communication station not far from here.” Felix began leading Lithuania towards the prison cell at the end of the hall. “However, turns out this was just a one man flight. And you know who decided to climb out of the wreckage and make an appearance?”
Felix flashed his light onto a shivering lump, huddled away at the back of the prison cell. Lithuania squinted, pressing her face against the prison bars to try and catch a clear view of the man’s face. “Is that—”
Felix nodded. “That’s right.”
There was no doubt about it. The hooded man, shivering uncontrollably at the back of the cell, was the LusciousLockian prince who had disappeared long ago. It was the King’s older brother: Prince Timoteo himself.
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