LAUREL CROWNS ABOVE

PROLOGUE

The setting sun sent dark orange hues across the cloudy skyline. It is fifteen past seven, when day turned lazily into night. A compact, slate-grey aircraft sailed two hundred meters above the black sea in steady pace, blending in with the thick fog except for the bright blue “AM0628” serial marked on the tail end of the fuselage. Inside the cockpit, two pilots relaxed to the soft, familiar drone of the engine. Today’s flight was just another routined surveillance, the route had become familiar, and little active effort was needed from the pilots. With their seatbelts unbuckled, they reclined against their worn leather seats, lost between the mist and their thoughts. 

As the aircraft sailed through another dark and coppery cloud, a tiny bright dot lit up on the panoramic monitor, and then several more appeared. Both pilots sat upright to take a closer look at the screen, but the dots already disappeared. 

“That’s weird,” the older pilot, Jack, murmured under his breath, and rubbed his eyes. “Did you see that?” He turned to look at his young co-pilot, Phillip. 

“Yeah…” Phillip replied, and moved his seat closer to the monitor. He turned the dials to zoom into where the dots appeared. There was nothing. Then, he zoomed out to check the surrounding areas, still nothing. 

“Check the tape.” Jack said, moving his seat closer to the monitor, and struggled to keep his balance as he stood up to get a better look. Philip played the recording of a moment ago. The first dot lit up, and then quickly followed by another, two, three… then all disappeared.

“I think there were six.” Phillip said, replaying the recording to confirm. “Yup, six.”

“What the hell are they?” Jack sat back down and felt relieved to do so. The sudden move to stand had given him a serious head rush. He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his collared uniform, and tried to roll up his sleeves, he could not get them past his round forearms. My clothes are shrinking, or I’m getting bigger. He made a mental note to eat less even though he has never had the self control to follow through. He then returned his attention to the monitor; the dots have not reappeared.

Phillip played the recording one more time. “I have no idea. It’s probably nothing, see here.” Phillip froze the screen and pointed to where the second dot appeared, “The screen got a bit fuzzy here. It might just be a glitch. I’ll give the whole system a run-through when we get back.”

“All-right.” Jack turned toward his left and looked out into the horizon. “Do you think we’ll see something different one of these days?”

“Doubt it.” Phillip shut down the screen displaying the recording, and moved his seat back to its reclined position. “Have you heard what they said about the EM0207 pilots?”

“Yeah.” Jack snorted a laugh, “Those fucking idiots. Didn’t they report seeing ripples or something? Said that they saw waves down there?”

“That’s what I heard.” Phillip winced at Jack’s choice of expletive.

“They probably flew too close to the water and disturbed the top layer. I mean, why the hell did they report that? Who’s going to be able to take them seriously now? We haven’t had any waves, or ripples, or anything else in this dark piss for ages.” Jack snorted again. He reached for his jacket and retrieved a small glass vial smaller than the size of his thumb. He gently broke the seal and drank down the silky liquid in one gulp. “Ah, that’s the stuff.” He smacked his lips. “And also, they didn’t have anything to prove it. No recording! Nothing!”

“Yeah I know. But still, kind of exciting if you ask me, seeing something different for once… besides this cold, dark abyss…” Phillip finished the last part in his head, not wanting to appear weak or sentimental in front of his brute colleague. His mind turned to the movie he watched two weeks ago. It was a very old film that a senior pilot had rented from the Sanctorium’s film archive. When Phillip heard about the film, he jumped at the chance to watch it. He himself would not be able to rent anything from the temples of the Sanctorium. However, that senior pilot was in the Paragon program, which was an exclusive and elite group made up of republic servitors of all sectors who were deemed to possess specialized talents or skills. And those Paragons got to enjoy special privileges, one of which was the license to travel and socialize beyond their assigned sectors, in their case, the air force within the Magistry of Peace. The Paragon privileges extended beyond the four Magistries within the Parliament, and included the other side of the dual-reigned government: the Sanctorium and its twelve mysterious temples. The film turned out to be a documentary of some sort. No doubt one of the few remaining collections from before the war. It had depicted the ocean much different from what it had become. Instead of the black, languid liquid laced and layered with toxic chemical and grease, it was… blue. Different shades of blue, sometimes deep and sometimes almost a turquoise depending on the region and the season, he thought, I think it changed color by the season. And instead of remains of battleships, fighter jets, sunken buildings, and sunken cities, the ocean was full of living things. It was a place to be explored, a place for adventure, but most importantly, a place to be imagined. I’m born in the wrong time, Phillip sighed, and looked out into the darkening horizon. The black landscape often drew out feelings of melancholy when he rested his eyes on it for too long. 

Recognized the impeding sadness, Phillip retrieved a glass vial from his uniform jacket pocket. He gently peeled back the seal and brought it to his lips. Do I need this? He asked himself. No, but I want it. Phillip took a small sip, letting the smooth texture of the clear solution coat his dry throat. He instantly felt relaxed. The reward was always immediate. But then, the internal conflict always arose just as quickly. Having been brought up by his guardian as a Purist, Phillip resisted the urge to use boosters even when most of his peers started in their youths. But that became almost impossible once he joined the republic service. First, because the stuff was too easy to get, it was as if the Magistry wanted you to use. Plus, there was no harm in doing it anymore, no more reasons for staying pure. Once a person became a republic servitor, one’s body and soul now served the greater good, it was no longer that person’s to preserve, because it was now a part of something much bigger… a collective. Still, using on the job was not allowed, but most pilots did anyway. It’s too fucking boring otherwise. Phillip tipped the vial and sip down the rest.

Phillips turned to look at Jack, who was making grunting noises as he foraged inside his own plane bag, no doubt looking for more boosters.

“Here, I got a fresh batch.” Phillip handed over a pack of the clear solution.

“You’re a godsend.” Jack said and reached for it almost too quickly. He took not one but two vials from the dozen. “One for later.” He said. 

“Suit yourself.” Phillip took one as well. “Cheers.” He broke off the seal and drank down his second vial in one gulp. Living large, he thought, even though the boosters were easy to come by, they were still expensive. Happy birthday to me. Today I am thirty-six. Phillip had wanted to mention this to Jack, but felt silly for wanting to do so. He and Jack were not friends. Phillip was assigned to Jack’s aircraft because Jack’s former co-pilot retired suddenly. What was the reason for the early retirement again? It wasn’t a preferred arrangement for either Phillip or Jack. Normally, new pilots were paired together, so that they could develop a sense of camaraderie and foster a relationship with one’s career partner. This was important for all republic servitors, especially in the first year. Since the life one used to lead had to be forgotten, forging new friendships once entering servicehood was critical for smooth transitioning. Phillip felt he was robbed of this because Jack did not make any efforts to connect with him. Initially during their first half dozen flights, Phillip had been much more talkative, asking Jack a lot of questions relating to the job, and what he did during his free time. Jack always gave very little. Finally, Phillip even asked about Jack’s life before joining the Magistry in an effort to connect on a personal level, even though private discussions over one’s life before servicehood was prohibited. No matter what Phillip tried, Jack was unmoved, and did not reciprocate the least amount of interest in Phillip. The only time Jack did reward Phillip with any detectable positive response, was when Phillip offered him boosters like he did just now. So no, Phillip would not tell Jack about his birthday. 

But there was one person that he did desperately want to talk to, and will never again. In the past four years, he had spent every birthday with Sophie, and every year it had been amazing. Sophie always made an event out of the occasion, even when Phillip asked her not to. She was good about that sort of stuff. On his thirty-fifth, the last birthday he was be able to spend with her, she announced that she would follow him and join the republic service the year after. Phillip was touched, but that arrangement was not fair so Sophie. She was five years younger, she should not be asked to forfeit years of personal freedom. But Sophie insisted, she shed tears as she declared how she loved him and wanted to be close to him, even if there was no guarantee that they would be assigned to the same sector. He cupped her beautiful teary face in his palms and agreed to the plan. Phillip had been counting down the year once he left their hometown and traveled to the Peace headquarter in Northeast Quadrant, where all new enrollees reported for duty. But lot could change in a year, and a lot did. Only a few months after Phillip enlisted, he received a letter from Sophie: Dearest Phillip… I met my true love, my patron… she had begin, and continued on to let him know that she was going to get married and register for Apotheosis. Phillip was badly wounded. He reread the short letter over and over. The thing that hurt the most, he thought, was how she said that she had met her patron — wasn’t Phillip her patron? She did not say that she had found a new patron, and the implication was that he never was one for her. Normally, this particular memory brought Phillip to tears. But not today, today was his birthday, he had already had his second serving of boosters, and he was not about to cry in front of Jack. Oh, but it isn’t all bad. He recognizes there was great honor in servicehood, and there is special honor to be designated as a peace keeper, and in the air force no less. Though often, the honor did little to erase the sense of loss and longing.  

All of a sudden, the aircraft jolted as if it had been hit, and the plane tipped downward. The unexpected jerk shook Phillip’s mind back to inside the aircraft, and he turned to look at Jack. Jack, who, although was also lost in a similar daydream state, quickly reacted. He pulled on the thrust levers, willing the aircraft to turn upward before hitting the ocean. The plane struggled for a few seconds, and then heeded to Jack’s command. They stopped free falling, and Jack had taken control over the aircraft. Phillip exhaled audibly when the plane finally stabilized. Time is truly elastic, Phillip thought, those few seconds were stretched to contain years of flashbacks, and Sophie’s beautiful heart shaped face refused to retreat back to his memory box.

“What the hell was that?” Jack growled. 

Phillip jerked in response to the loudness of Jack’s voice. He noticed Jack shared his panic as tiny beads of sweat had formed on Jack’s forehead. “I don’t know.” Phillip panted, and moved his head around, peering outside of the aircraft, “I don’t see anything.” The sun was still setting. And the black liquid landscape was not disturbed in the least. 

“I’ve never felt the anything like that in my twenty years of flying.” Jack complained, and rubbed his temples, his fingers came away wet with sweat. “That felt… like a ghost or something.” He said, his eyes darted back and forth around the cockpit, to Phillip, and back out to the ocean. “Look here.” Jack pointed to the monitor. Those dots have reappeared.

“They’re… growing.” Phillip said. Noting how the small dots on the screen seemed to expand in size, but then faded in saturation. Phillip turned the dial up and then down trying to get a better look, but every time he zoomed far enough, the shapes vanished completely. “It’s like they’re getting bigger but then turn into smoke.”  He looked to Jack, who offered nothing. “We will have to report this.”

“The hell we will! We will be laughing stocks like those EM fuckers!” Jack bellowed once more, “The commander will suspect that we were using on the job!” Jack looked down to the floor of his side the cockpit, which had no fewer than ten emptied vials. 

“We have to report this!” Phillip insisted, “What if it’s something serious? What if it happens again to others on the force?” His gaze fell to the fresh pack of boosters that he offered to Jack a moment ago, and stuffed it back inside his backpack. Most pilots would not be challenged to a substance test in this situation, however, Jack earned himself a notorious reputation when he made a fool of himself in front of the air force commander while intoxicated. If they were to report anything abnormal on their flights, the Magistry bureau would get curious about Jack’s mental clarity during the flight. And if Jack’s mental state were to be scrutinized, he would likely not get renewed for another year. 

“I saved us, didn’t I? Whatever the hell that was, I saved us. I get to say what we do here.” Jack said, his voice quivering. His round face started to turn red as he realized he had no authority to make any demands of Phillip. It was better to be cooperative instead. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hands and once again they came away wet with sweat. “Listen. Look. Let’s talk this out before making any reports to home base.” Jack changed his tone. 

Phillip stayed quiet. This is an opportunity, isn’t it? If Jack got terminated, Phillip would get a new co-pilot and he would have seniority. Phillips looked up at Jack, feeling confident against the normally domineering presence who was visibly deflating before him. Phillip tried to maintain his version of a poker face and opened his mouth to speak.

Suddenly, the panoramic monitor filled with blinking dots, hundreds of them at least. Both men stood up in alarm. And as they did so, they felt a sudden push from the back the aircraft, with force much stronger than the one from a moment ago, jerking them forward, and Jack lost balance and his face hit the monitor in loud thud. Blood started gushing out of the deep gash in his head wound, and splattered over Phil’s white uniform. The aircraft sounded warning alarms and its autopilot program took over, trying in vain to prevent their free falling. But it was no use, and before Phillip had a chance to react, the plane flipped over and nosedived into the blackness. Phillip’s scream caught in his throat as Sophie’s beautiful face once again flashed before him.