NOVEL NEXT Ch75 Lorna: Min Far
12:30, March 20, 2295
Harald's Encampment 3, Mount Lyell Area, Former Yosemite National Park
The encampment's warmth wrapped around them after the chaos of their escape. What looked like a simple cave from outside turned out to be a carefully built sanctuary. Blue-white crystals lined the walls, providing steady light, while fusion heaters hummed quietly in the corners. The transparent ceiling panels—clearly salvaged from some advanced vehicle—offered a view of the gray sky above while keeping the chamber cozy.
Lorna sat cross-legged on a woven mat, watching her father with confusion. Harald moved with the same careful precision she remembered from childhood, though his movements carried a weight that hadn't been there eleven years ago. Across the chamber, Olav worked at what could generously be called a kitchen: portable fusion burners, storage containers, and preservation units that looked less organized than most kitchens.
"The smørrebrød are almost ready," Harald announced, slicing what looked like dark bread with a small knife. He glanced at her with those familiar storm-gray eyes. "Olav's become quite the chef over the years."
Olav chirped proudly from his cooking station. The creature was easily the size of a large dog, with the rounded build of an adorable cross between beaver and groundhog. His thick fur showed beautiful gradations from rich brown to silvery-gray, meticulously groomed. Small, intelligent dark eyes regarded them with warmth, and his substantial paws moved with dexterity as he worked.
Unlike the shrieking, dread-inducing sounds most Radi-Mons made, Olav's vocalizations were musical—a series of clicks, trills, and soft barks.
"He understands what we say?" Lorna asked, accepting a cup of something that smelled remarkably like the caffè latte they'd shared over lunch in Oslo.
"More than that. He's learned to read basic Jǫturmál and English." Harald settled beside her, his weathered hands wrapped around his own cup. "Grávombs like him were designed as resource gatherers and builders when I made the Jokull Horde. Peaceful, intelligent. Eight years of exile teaches patience to both man and Radi-Mon."
On her lap, Håkon stirred from his post-rescue exhaustion. The little Diabolisk had barely left her side since they'd arrived, his scales still carrying traces of the terror-black they'd turned during the encounter with Skarn. Now they shifted toward a more stable bronze, though worry-blue flecks remained.
Grandfather-safe-place? Håkon's mental voice carried cautious curiosity as he studied Harald.
"Yes, boy. This is your grandpa Harald." Lorna stroked his head gently. "We're safe."
Harald's expression softened as he looked at Håkon. "So this is my grandson. I can sense the Lunar potential in him, despite..." He paused, choosing his words. "His other heritage. I sense that, as well."
A brief awkward silence settled in. No sound except the low humming of Harald's makeshift hoverbike parked next to the damaged Alliance Space Rover.
"Pa…" Lorna felt her heart skip a beat. This was the topic she'd dreaded. But she knew they needed to face it.
Olav approached with a platter that made Lorna's eyes widen. Somehow, the Grávomb had recreated their Oslo lunch from eleven years ago almost perfectly. Open-faced sandwiches topped with smoked salmon, fresh greens that had no business growing in this frozen wasteland, and even something resembling the exotic Martian spices that had been in their original meal.
"Oh, look at that!" Harald suddenly turned cheerful, his voice warming as he opened his arms in praise toward Olav. "We're almost back at Tøyengata 24!"
On Lorna's lap, Håkon chirped excitedly, his tiny claws raised in what looked like a victory pose. The little Diabolisk was oblivious to any tension, simply delighted at the sight of food.
"Pa, how did you—" Lorna began.
"Hydroponics bay deeper in the cave system," Harald explained, accepting his portion. "Olav and I maintain several growing chambers at Encampment 2. The fish come from underground streams that still run beneath the ice. As for the spices..." He smiled slightly. "I have my ways, even in exile."
They ate in comfortable silence for several minutes, the familiar flavors carrying Lorna back to that last normal day in Oslo. But the weight of everything unsaid pressed against her chest.
"Pa," she began finally, "I—I go by Lorna Weiss now. The Terra Alliance gave me that name when they recruited me."
Harald's fork paused halfway to his mouth. "Weiss. A common Valoran surname." He tasted the name like something bitter. "Meant to sound German? Or American?"
"Both. It was supposed to help me blend in." She met his gaze steadily. "The Alliance isn't perfect, but they've been good to me. Gave me purpose, training, a place to belong."
"After I failed to give you those things." Harald's voice carried no accusation, just weary acknowledgment.
"That's not…" Lorna stopped, reconsidering. "Things are complicated in America for people like us. Nordlings aren't exactly welcome."
Harald nodded grimly, swallowing a piece of salmon before reciting with precision. "The Terran Containment Protocol. Passed in 2284. Any person of Nordic heritage requires genetic screening and psychological evaluation before entering Alliance territory. Most applications are denied."
"Why?" Though even as she asked, Lorna suspected she knew.
"Because of Sven." Harald's voice hardened. "Because the Fenris Horde emerged from Norway, led by someone who was once human. The Alliance fears that all Nordlings carry the potential for...transformation."
Olav chittered softly from his cooking station, a sound that somehow conveyed sympathy.
"They're not wrong to be afraid," Harald continued. "Though their solution creates the very problem they try to prevent."
"Marginalize a people long enough, and some will turn to monsters for acceptance." Lorna thought of the discrimination she'd witnessed, the carefully constructed lies about her origins, the constant need to prove her loyalty. "Still, the Alliance has protected me. Given me friends who—"
"Who don't know what you are," Harald finished gently.
The words stung because they were true. Even Thomas and Emmanuel, her closest connections, believed she was from some German-American town on Osram. Only Xin knew that secret.
"They're good people," Lorna insisted. "Tom, Manny, Diego, Xin—they've risked their lives for me."
"I don't doubt their individual goodness." Harald sipped his coffee-substitute. "But institutions and the people within them are different things."
Family-fighting-again? Håkon trilled as he looked up. His mental voice carried distress as he sensed the rising tension.
"No, boy," Lorna soothed, though she felt her own frustration building. "Just... talking."
"The Alliance would sacrifice any of you if the money was good enough," Harald said.
"I don't know that," she replied, "but you're hardly one to lecture about manipulation and hidden agendas. Skarn said you made the Moondust Crystal. Said you've been playing with time itself."
Harald was quiet for a long moment, his weathered hands wrapped around his cup. "Sven says many things. Some true, some...interpreted through his corrupted lens."
"So did you make it or not?"
"What Sven told you was...simplified. Yes, I traveled through eons to plant the seed a billion years ago in Osram's core. An enchanted Zephyrium the size of my fist." He held up his weathered hand for reference. "I thought I could control what grew from it."
Lorna leaned forward despite herself. "But you couldn't."
"When I returned in 2284 to harvest what I'd sown..." Harald's expression darkened. "The Crystal had developed its own consciousness. Its own agenda. It whispered to me of reshaping humanity entirely. Not just dominating our enemies, but remaking the Five Realms according to its vision."
"So you shattered it."
"With the Jokull's help, yes. Before they rebelled against me." Harald pointed at the pendant at Lorna's throat. "That contains the smallest fragment—the only piece I could fully attune to our bloodline. The rest are..."
"Scattered across worlds, luring everyone." Lorna's voice was bitter.
"I suppose power of that scale has a way of drawing people." Harald's shoulders slumped.
Lorna studied her father's face, searching for any sign of deception as she touched the Pendant of Mánagrát. "And my pendant?"
"Contains a fragment, yes. One attuned specifically to our bloodline." Harald's eyes met hers. "I gave it to you because I believed—still believe—that you can use the Crystal's power responsibly."
"By controlling people's minds?" Lorna's voice rose. "That's what it does, isn't it? What any psion can do with the Crystal?"
"Among other things." Harald's admission came reluctantly. "But in the right hands, it could end wars instead of starting them. Heal trauma instead of inflicting it. The choice of how to use such power reveals character."
Håkon whimpered softly, his scales shifting toward anxious deep blue. The little Diabolisk looked between them with growing distress.
"There's something else you need to know," Lorna said, her voice dropping as she looked at her son. "About Håkon. His...father."
Harald's expression grew carefully neutral. "I suspected."
"Skarn raped me." The words came out flat, matter-of-fact. "During my mission in Taiwan. That's how Håkon was conceived."
Harald's cup trembled slightly in his hands, coffee sloshing. "Sigrún..."
"So this little life—your grandson—is also the son of your greatest enemy. The monster that Sven became." Lorna pulled Håkon closer, feeling his small form tense. "I won't let that define him, but I need to know—can you do the same?"
For a long moment, Harald stared into his cup. When he looked up, his eyes were bright with unshed tears.
"Sven was not always a monster," he said quietly. "He was brilliant, passionate, idealistic. What he became...was the Hivemind's corruption, not his true nature."
"And Håkon?"
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Harald leaned forward, reaching out to gently touch the little Diabolisk's head. Håkon flinched initially, then allowed the contact, his scales shifting toward curious azure.
"A child carries the potential for both light and darkness," Harald said. "That matters more than any genetic inheritance."
Håkon-good? The mental voice was small, uncertain.
"You're very good," Lorna assured him as she placed him on a nearby mat. "The best boy in all Five Realms."
Olav chittered from his station, a sound of agreement. He approached with a small bowl containing what looked like crystalline granules that glowed with pale green light.
Helionite, Lorna realized with a slight frown—the substance looked almost toxic, its sickly glow casting strange shadows on Olav's fur. Yet the Grávomb offered it confidently to Håkon, who chirped gratefully and began nibbling the energy-rich substance without hesitation.
"Smart thinking," Harald observed. "Håkon needs proper nutrition after today's trauma."
A peaceful minute passed as they watched the baby Diabolisk consume the liquid contentedly. Nuclear waste to humans, but more important than water to Radi-Mons.
"Pa," Lorna began carefully, "my team will be looking for me. My handler Diego, my teammates Tom and Manny... Xin's unconscious, but when he wakes, Doctor Nikki can—"
"No." Harald raised a hand, voice sharp. "No Alliance communications from this location."
"They're not just Alliance," Lorna protested. "They're my team. They'll be worried."
"The Jokull monitors all QEC frequencies in this region. The Fenris likely does the same." Harald gestured toward the cave entrance. "One outbound transmission could bring both hordes down on us."
"So we just...hide? Let them think we're dead?"
"If necessary." Harald's tone brooked no argument. "I won't risk exposing this sanctuary for Alliance politics."
Lorna felt her temper flare. "They're not politics! They're people who care about me!"
"People working for a government that would dissect both you and Håkon if it profited them," Harald shot back. "Don't let sentiment blind you—"
"Why are you always like this!" Lorna stood, enraged, her voice echoing off the walls. "The Alliance, Imperium, Directorate, whoever's not a Nordling. Are they lesser than us?"
"I never said that!" Harald protested.
Family-NO-fighting! Håkon's mental shout cut through their argument like a blade. The little Diabolisk scrambled away from the bowl of Helionite, positioning himself between them with his scales flashing urgent deep blue. No-sad-no-angry! Happy-family-together!
He began to trill—the same soothing sound he'd made when healing Lorna's heart after her virus-induced frenzy. The melody seemed to wash over the chamber, carrying an almost physical sense of peace.
Harald and Lorna stopped, both looking down at the distressed child.
"Ah, kjære gutt, [dear boy,]" Harald said softly, kneeling. "You're right. We shouldn't fight in front of you."
Lorna joined him on the floor, pulling Håkon into her arms. "He's right. Family doesn't fight. We discuss."
"Agreed." Harald settled beside them, his hand finding Lorna's shoulder. "Perhaps...we can find a middle path. Continue this conversation when emotions have cooled."
Olav approached with a fresh pot of coffee substitute, refilling their cups patiently. He chittered something that sounded distinctly like a scold.
"He says we're both stubborn," Harald translated with a slight smile.
They returned to their meal, the tension gradually fading. Håkon settled between them, his scales returning to their natural mixture of bronze and blue as he calmed down.
"Thanks for saving Xin," Lorna said after a while. "That healing spell of yours—it feels different."
Harald flexed his fingers, studying them with a frown. "Age takes its toll. A decade ago, such magic would have been effortless. Now..." He sighed. "I tire more easily. Need longer to recover."
"But you're still the most powerful psion I've ever met."
"Power without wisdom is meaningless. Wisdom without power is frustrating." Harald managed a tired smile. "I'm hoping you'll prove better at balancing both."
Olav finished his own meal—a different bowl holding a mixture of Helionite and processed root vegetables—before approaching with a small portion for Håkon. The Grávomb chittered something, gesturing between himself and the little Diabolisk.
"He's offering to share his food," Harald chuckled. "Olav takes care of the family."
Håkon chirped gratefully, accepting the offering. For a moment, Lorna watched the two Radi-Mons interact—one ancient by her standards, one barely weeks old, yet communicating with perfect understanding.
"Is this what you intended?" she asked. "When you created the Jokull Horde? This kind of... cooperation?"
Harald nodded slowly. "I wanted to prove that humans and Radi-Mons could coexist. That transformation didn't have to mean losing one's essential nature." His expression darkened. "Skarn…the Hivemind ruling his mind…corrupted that vision. Turned my creations into weapons of supremacy."
"Ulrik called you 'the Oppressor'." Lorna pointed out carefully.
"Ulrik is kind-hearted, respected—though easily influenced." Harald's response was surprisingly calm. "When he declared for the Fenris, many pack leaders followed. Halldor, Astrid, Runolf…wasn't long before most of Jokull became Fenris allies."
"But Olav remained loyal to you."
"Olav chose wisely. As did a few others scattered across here and Europa." Harald's hand found the Grávomb's head, scratching behind what might have been ears. "Not every experiment ends in failure, it seems."
The meal concluded in comfortable silence. Olav bustled about, cleaning with practiced efficiency, while Harald moved to check on Xin's still-sleeping form.
"His injuries were severe," Harald observed, adjusting the crystalline patches that covered the healing wounds. "But he'll recover. This boy has a strong will."
"He's been through a lot recently," Lorna said, joining them. "Learning about the virus, awakening his psionics, and..."
"Running from the Imperium." Harald nodded. "Olav and I monitored Alliance frequencies occasionally. Fragments of that news reached us."
Håkon approached Xin's sleeping form, scales shifting to worried yellow as he studied the unconscious man.
Pappa-still-sleeping? When-wake-up?
"Soon," Lorna assured him. "Pappa needs rest to heal."
"Håkon trusts him deeply, despite being unrelated," Harald murmured, watching the interaction. "Chosen family."
"Xin helped deliver him," Lorna explained. "On Shashan, when I was giving birth. Håkon's called him 'pappa' ever since."
"And he's accepted that role?"
Lorna's expression softened. "More than I expected. We're...we're a family now. All three of us."
Harald studied her face carefully. "This Xin. You love him."
It wasn't a question, but Lorna nodded anyway. "I do."
"What, your fellow Nordlings and Valorans not good enough for you?" He teased.
"Pa!" She protested.
"Joking, of course." Harald chuckled, his voice carrying grudging acceptance. "Anyone who would accept your child as his own..."
"He would die for either of us," Lorna said simply. "Has nearly died for us already."
"Then perhaps," Harald moved away from Xin's sleeping form, "when he wakes, I'll speak to him."
A soft chime from somewhere near Xin drew their attention. His green Quantum Watch, resting on a small crate along with Kuma the Kinetic SMG, Xin's dark green 10mm Magnum, and their unused Psi Shield Devices. Somehow the watch remained functional despite being unfastened from his wrist.
"Golden State Republic data," Lorna realized, checking the display. "Xin downloaded it during our stop near the Moondust shard."
Harald leaned over to examine the technical readouts. "Information about underground passages into Mount Lyell."
"What passages?"
"Hmm. These tunnels appear recent. The Californians were trying to dig somewhere deep." He stroked his chin. "Trying to reach something?"
"Appears to lead directly to somewhere near the Yosemite shard's root." Harald's expression grew thoughtful. "This could be exactly what we need."
"The Yosemite shard has a…" Lorna tasted the word, incredulous. "…root?"
"Like an iceberg." Harald gestured in the air. "The shard you see between the trees is only a tip. A much larger structure lies beneath."
"Your doing?" Lorna asked.
Håkon looked between the unconscious Xin and the data display, his scales shifting toward expectant orange. Håkon-come-too?
"That's a good question," Lorna mused. "I don't want to leave either of you, but someone needs to stay with Xin..."
"I'll remain here," Harald decided. "Maintain voice contact through these." He produced small communication devices from his white jacket. The same bean-sized earpieces that Lorna had been using in SIMU, though dark teal instead of ebony black. "Short-range, encrypted. The Hordes won't detect them easily."
"And Håkon?" Lorna asked as she placed the earpiece in her right ear before reaching for the Psi Shield Device from a nearby crate.
"He'll stay with me," Harald said gently as he turned to the Grávomb by the fusion burners. "Olav, go with Sigrún. Remember the Lunar spells I've taught you."
Olav nodded, rubbing his paws and wiping his small claws with excited chirps. He then reached for a sand-gray backpack by a burner, opening it and eyeing his surroundings.
"Isn't it dangerous for—?" Lorna began.
"He knows the mountains better than anyone. Good with digging and collecting, as well." Harald raised a hand. "In the meantime, I'll see if I can repair your Space Rover."
Håkon-help-catch-pappa-in-dream! The little Diabolisk's mental voice carried determined brightness as he settled next to Xin's sleeping form. Keep-pappa-safe-until-mother-return!
"I'm sure you will." Lorna patted her son's head gently, smiling.
"All right then." Lorna began checking her equipment. "Olav and I will take the underground route. How deep is this shard buried?"
Harald consulted the data on Xin's Quantum Watch again. "Nearly fifty meters down, embedded in the mountain's root system. You'll need to descend quite far before finding the chamber."
"How far in?"
"On foot, I'd say…two hours, possibly three depending on obstacles." Harald inserted his communication device in his right ear. "Check in every thirty minutes. If you see anything you can't comprehend, call immediately."
Nearby, Olav had already gathered supplies—rope, emergency rations, and what looked like portable fusion lights. The Grávomb closed his backpack, shouldering it with clicking sounds of satisfaction.
Lorna secured her Psi Shield Device on her left ear as Olav stood beside her, his height reaching about her waist, ready to move.
"Skarn and his minions are likely unaware of how deep the shard's root goes," Harald said with deliberate weight. "Still. Be careful, Sigrún."
"I will." Lorna knelt beside Håkon, who was already curled against Xin's side like a protective guardian. "Take care of pappa and grandpa, okay?"
Håkon-promise! The Diabolisk chirped once, nodding.
"Good boy." Lorna kissed the top of his small head before standing.
She moved toward the cave entrance where Olav waited.
But just as they reached the threshold, a sound echoed from above—distant but unmistakable.
The deep rumble of massive engines.
Lorna looked up through the transparent ceiling panels. High above, visible against the gray sky, a massive shape was descending through the clouds. The Dragonfort's crimson hull gleamed like fresh blood, its angular design unmistakably Imperial.
"Everyone down," Harald whispered instinctively, though the vessel was still miles away.
They crouched beneath the transparent panels as the battlecruiser settled into a hovering position above the valley. For a moment, nothing happened. Then speakers throughout the ship projected a voice that carried across the frozen landscape.
"Denizens of Yosemite—if you exist," the voice was female, elegant yet menacing, dripping with condescension and crisp with authority. "This is Prefect Dilinur Altai of the Imperium of Dragons. We now possess the primary Moondust Crystal, with the Golden State Republic's approval to seek its scattered fragments."
"What?" Lorna's body tensed. She knew that voice from their encounters in Taiwan and on Osram. "The GSR let them in? Did Reeves—"
"Any individual providing aid to recover these shards will be granted citizenship in the Imperium and substantial financial compensation. Conversely, anyone found harboring them without immediate surrender will be considered an enemy!"
As the announcement continued, Harald began checking emergency supplies.
"You think they'll search down here?" Lorna asked in a low voice.
"Unlikely. I've placed psionic wards to conceal all my campsites from human sensors." Harald replied, stroking his chin. "The cave system also has natural shielding. Still..."
The Dragonfort's voice echoed again across the valley: "This region will be systematically searched within the next six hours. Imperial authority supersedes all territorial claims. Resistance will be met with lethal force."
Above them, the crimson shadow of the Imperium blotted out what remained of the winter sky.
"Go now," Harald said simply, waving his hand before pointing at his right ear. "We'll stay on this frequency if anything happens."
"Okay." Lorna looked at Håkon, still protectively curled against Xin's unconscious form, then at Harald's determined face, and finally at Olav who waited patiently by the tunnel entrance.
Mother-come-back-safe? Håkon's sapphire eyes focused on her, his mental voice small but clear.
"I will. See you soon." Lorna nodded grimly before turning around. She needed to be strong. Just like Håkon. Like her father Harald. Like Xin. Everyone on her side. "Ready, Olav?"
Olav chirped, looking up at her. The Grávomb's intelligent eyes reflected determination.
The race had begun.