NOVEL NEXT Ch37.2 Lorna: Silver Memories (Scene 2)
23:23, February 23, 2295
Near Arrington Lagoon, Evanston, IL, Terra Alliance territory
"Argh!" Lorna jerked awake with a gasp, her heart pounding. The remnants of Oslo lingered in her mind. Blue light shone through her veins. The Nucleus Virus visible beneath her skin in the Space Rover's dim lighting.
"Nightmare?" Xin kept his eyes on the snowy path as he drove through the outskirts of Evanston.
"Yeah." Lorna pulled her sleeve down to cover the glowing veins. "The virus makes them more...vivid. More real." She rubbed her temples and watched the city lights fade through the windshield.
The Space Rover smelled of chicken nuggets and matcha tea. Pawan, Xin's Omni-Drone, hovered near the ceiling, its sensors blinking in the dark.
"Your skin..." Xin's voice trailed off as he drove around a fallen tree.
"I can handle it," she replied, touching the silver pendant against her chest. "How does my scar look? It's been another day."
Xin glanced at her. "A small part of the scab has come off. It's healing."
"Good, that's a relief," Lorna took out her Medi-Vap and inhaled a dose. A cloud of teal mist escaped her lips.
"Just take it easy," Xin said. "So, where are we heading?"
"North. There's something I want to show you. Something about who I really am."
The Space Rover pushed through the snow, its cannon tracking movement in the darkness. As they reached the top of a hill, Xin gasped.
Below them spread the remains of New Uppsala. Unlike Alliance cities, these buildings mixed curves and angles in unusual ways, seeming to rise from the snow itself.
"It's beautiful," Xin said, slowing down. "I've never seen anything like it. Those spires – they're like European castles, but different. More...organic?" He adjusted his glasses. "The history books never showed us this."
"Of course they didn't. The Alliance wants everyone to think Valorans built everything worth keeping in North America. But this was New Uppsala. A haven for Nordlings who fled here when the outbreak in '84 made Scandinavia uninhabitable. Before the quarantine, before the Nordic Exodus, before..." She stopped.
"Let's take a closer look," she said suddenly.
"Are we allowed to?" Xin asked, already driving toward the entrance.
"No." A bitter smile crossed Lorna's face. "But that's kind of the point."
The Space Rover went down into the valley, its headlights showing the abandoned entrance. They stopped at a security checkpoint with dead systems and an Alliance banner hanging above old scanning equipment.
"We should leave the rover here," Lorna said. "Less chance of triggering any surveillance."
They stepped out into the bitter cold, their breath making clouds. Snow crunched under their boots as they passed the checkpoint. Lorna touched the old scanner.
"The Ancestral Verification Protocol. AVP. It traced Nordic heritage through genetic markers in our bloodline. They claimed our DNA made us more likely to catch the Nucleus Virus."
"Was that true?" Xin examined the device.
"Partly. Studies showed Nordlings had a genetic sequence — a psionic predisposition — that the Nucleus Virus targets. But it wasn't about protecting us." She kicked the scanner. "It was about controlling us."
They walked deeper into the settlement. The main street stretched before them, buildings mixing Alliance standards with Nordic design. Snow covered much of the area, but market stalls, gathering places, and empty gardens were still visible.
Lorna stopped at the community center. Its weathered walls showed murals that caught Xin's attention.
"Yggdrasil, the World Tree," Lorna traced the faded lines. "And here, Valhalla, where warriors feast forever. It's Jǫturmál mythology."
"What's that word mean?" he asked.
"The Tongue of Giants. Some people say it sounds rough, but...it's the language my people used to speak."
She led him to a structure with a peaked roof, its frame reaching skyward. "That was going to be a stave church. Traditional Nordic architecture, all wood, no nails. They had the lumber brought from Canada, craftsmen from Europe... but then the quarantine came."
As they explored, Lorna told stories of Nordling refugees who built New Uppsala to keep their traditions. The gradual restrictions, first "for protection," then more punishing. The quarantine that never ended.
They entered a home. Snow had blown through broken windows. Despite the decay, personal touches remained: old photographs, hand-carved furniture, a child's toy in a corner.
"When I was eighteen, my father left," Lorna picked up a wooden horse. "He stayed behind to fight the Fenris Horde while I fled."
"You know where he is?" Xin watched her.
"Hopefully Europa now, if he's alive. He had a laboratory there."
"You tried to contact him?"
"I wish I could. No one knows where he went. Only that he's alive somehow." Her expression turned bitter. "Thorin Hǫggsson, an old friend of his, told me about the lab. Said my father was creating..." She hesitated.
"Creating what?"
"His own version of Radi-Mons. Controlled ones. He called them the Jokull." She put the toy on a windowsill. "I didn't want to believe it. Still don't, really."
They moved to a research facility with walls broken open, though it was hard to tell if it was from explosions or something worse.
"The Lineage Studies Facility," Lorna read from a fallen sign. "Remotely owned by the Champaign Institute of Technology." Inside, equipment was smashed, documents scattered, everything burnable reduced to ash.
"Someone wanted to erase whatever they were studying here," Xin looked at a broken container.
"The official story is that researchers destroyed everything before evacuation to prevent virus spread. But Nordlings weren't contagious. The virus doesn't work that way, like Doc Nikki explained. We were quarantined because of who we are, not what we carried."
She brushed snow from a folder. The logo was still visible with "Psionic Predisposition in Nordic Bloodlines."
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
"This is what they feared," she handed him the folder. "Not virus spread, but abilities they couldn't control."
Xin looked through the pages. "These are genetic studies... comparing Nordic DNA with other Europeans... focusing on 'the last sequence in the human cell nucleus'..."
"The genetic marker for psionic potential. Found in about ten percent globally, but nearly thirty percent among Nordlings. That's the 'scientific' reason for containing us. They turned our tragedy into an excuse for keeping us out."
"How did you escape it? If AVP is so good at detecting Nordic heritage..."
"Director Otis," Lorna touched her pendant. "When I came to the Alliance, I had nothing—just my pendant, whatever money I'd saved... But my psionic abilities caught his attention. He helped create a new identity, change my genetic records, even got me into CIT."
"Why would he take such a risk?"
"He saw something worth saving, I guess. That's the irony of the Alliance—as an organization, it's as prejudiced as the Imperium. But individuals in it can be remarkably kind."
In the administrative center, Lorna stopped before a wall of photographs. Community celebrations, groundbreaking ceremonies, ordinary moments in fading images.
"Do you see it, Xin? Look at these people. They could be anyone from the Alliance. That woman could have sat next to you on a train, that man could be a Vanguard in your unit. There's nothing visibly different about us."
"That's what makes prejudice so insidious. It creates divisions where there are none."
"Exactly." Lorna traced a group photo. "The AVP doesn't detect disease. It detects ancestry. It's not about protection—it's about control."
Outside, night had deepened. Osram hung overhead, Chicago glowed on the horizon. As they walked back, Lorna broke the silence.
"There's something else I need to tell you. About Skarn, the Radi-Mon Primarch we met in Taipei."
Xin turned to face her.
"He wasn't always like that. Before he became... that thing... his name was Sven Solheim. He was my classmate at Lund University. Maybe even a friend."
"You knew him before his transformation?"
Lorna nodded. "We were in Advanced Psionics together. He was brilliant, charismatic—and deeply resentful of how the Alliance and Imperium treated Nordic communities. He believed Nordlings were superior, that our psionic potential made us rightful rulers of the Inner Sol. The last time I saw him human was at Oslo Starport, when Radi-Mons attacked. He'd already started transforming, calling himself Skarn."
"That's why...when he met you in Taipei..." he left the sentence unfinished.
"Yes." She pulled the pendant from her jumpsuit. "My father gave me this the day everything changed. The Pendant of Mánagrát. He said it would protect me. When we fled Oslo, he gave me something else. A crystal vial with strange liquid. He told me to take it to Thorin Hǫggsson at Lund."
"Did you?"
"Yes, though I nearly walked out when Thorin demanded my pendant too. He claimed my father was creating monsters on Europa, that the pendant was connected to them. I gave him the vial but kept the pendant. It was the last thing my father gave me. How could I give it up?"
They reached the Space Rover but didn't get in.
"You're a Nordling." Xin nodded as he looked at her.
"It's who I am, Xin. My real name is Sigrún Fjeld. Lorna Weiss was created to survive in a world that fears what I am. If anyone in SIMU discovers my identity, I won't just lose my job. I'll be deported immediately. Any chance of finding my father—gone." She met his gaze.
"Why tell me? Why trust me with this?"
The virus surged inside her, patches of skin becoming transparent, showing glowing tissue beneath. She didn't try to hide it.
"Because you understand what it means to live under a system that wants to erase you. To remake yourself just to survive. And because I've seen how you keep fighting, even after what the Imperium did to your homeland. You don't let them win by becoming what they want you to be."
A sudden beeping from the dashboard made them both jump. An incoming transmission.
"Let me check," Xin said, looking at the display where 'T. Mendoza' appeared. "It's…Thomas?"
Lorna's heart raced as she rushed into the Rover, the virus responding with another surge of blue light. This was the first test of her trust in Xin – how he handled this call would show whether she'd made the right choice in revealing her secret.
Xin's finger hovered over the holographic interface. "Should I...?"
"Answer it," Lorna said, shrinking into her seat, angling away from where Thomas's hologram would appear. She pulled her jumpsuit closer, trying to hide the virus's glow. "And Xin... please..."
He nodded once, understanding without needing more words. His finger touched the interface, and Thomas's holographic form appeared between them. The silver of his bionic arms caught the dashboard lights, casting shadows through the cabin.
"Hey, you two. Working late?" Thomas asked curiously as he looked around. "Bit far from the usual training grounds, aren't you?"
Lorna held her breath, watching Xin from the corner of her eye. Everything depended on this moment.
"Yeah, we're testing the Space Rover's winter capabilities," Xin replied smoothly, his voice not showing the tension Lorna felt. "The terrain north of Evanston is good practice for Osram's conditions. Read it on the Extranet today."
Thomas grinned slyly. "At midnight, eh? What an interesting choice."
Lorna's cheeks burned with embarrassment, but she stared out the window, willing her heart to slow down.
"Well, yes, since our mission is tomorrow at 1PM, I thought it'd be good to get some extra practice," Xin added, his words coming together despite his nervousness.
"Of course, Xin. You've got that hard-working Imperial spirit in you," Thomas replied with a nod, still sounding intrigued.
"Tom, just tell us what's so important you have to call at this hour," Lorna said, still blushing but keeping her composure.
"Roger that," Thomas's hologram flickered as he turned serious. "Diego just sent an update. The Imperium's forces are moving earlier than expected. We're changing the timeline."
"Alright. What's the time?" Lorna managed, her voice tight.
"Emmanuel and I will head for Mare Imbrium within the hour," Thomas continued, sounding solemn. "As for you, Xin, your StarWhale flight is scheduled for 9AM."
"No problem!" Xin said enthusiastically.
"Hold on. What about me?" Lorna frowned, placing a hand on her chest.
"You are to remain on Earth, Lorna. Director Otis will be signing your unpaid sick leave tomorrow —" Thomas looked nervous, as if expecting an argument.
"No way. I'm coming." Lorna insisted.
"Lorna. You've done a lot during that mission in Taiwan. That's not how the SIMU works. You need rest – " Thomas raised a bionic hand.
"I've come this far and I want to see it through." Lorna cut him off, turning to face the hologram. "Besides, I need the money. My rent is due soon."
Thomas was silent for a moment before sighing. "Very well. Do I have your permission to quote that when I tell the Director?"
"You do." Lorna pressed her lips together.
"Then I look forward to seeing you both on Osram tomorrow. Should be fun." Thomas grinned again.
The hologram disappeared, leaving them in darkness except for the dashboard lights and the faint glow of Lorna's virus-altered veins. For a moment, neither spoke.
"Thanks, Xin," Lorna finally whispered, her hand finding his in the darkness. "For understanding what's at stake."
"Your secret is safe with me." Xin's fingers intertwined with hers, warm against her cool skin. "Sigrún."
The sound of her real name, spoken with such simple acceptance, made her throat tight. She hadn't heard anyone say it in years, not since her father. The pendant at her throat pulsed once, like it was acknowledging this moment of truth.
"My hands," she began quietly, sounding vulnerable. "They're not as soft as they used to be. Some people find it...unattractive." She flexed her calloused fingers, the rough texture rubbing against Xin's softer skin.
Xin ran his thumb over the hardened skin of her palm. "They're the hands of a warrior," he said softly, looking up to meet her eyes. "They've been through battles, saved lives. Strong, resilient. Like you."
A knot of anxiety loosened inside Lorna. She looked at their intertwined hands, a small smile spreading across her lips.
"I'll drive us back," Xin said softly, though he didn't move to start the rover. "Big day tomorrow. I'll wake you up when we get to Stardust Command."
"Yeah…that sounds nice," Lorna replied, not letting go of his hand. Here, in this abandoned place that witnessed her people's suffering, she had found something unexpected – someone who saw her, truly saw her, and chose to stand beside her anyway.
He whispered what she wanted to hear but didn't know how to ask: "Goodnight, Lorna."
"Goodnight, Xin," she murmured contentedly, letting go of his hand, her blue eyes closing as she drifted toward sleep.
Above them, Osram hung in the night sky, its cratered face reminding them of the mission ahead. But for now, in the quiet darkness of the Space Rover's cabin, Lorna allowed herself to exist without masks or pretense, her virus-touched skin glowing softly as the snow continued to fall outside.