Fire and Lightning: Tales from Pocatello, #4

By Jessie Sanders

One year ago, an alien spaceship fell from the sky…

It crashed into the fields of Quadrant Four, Saxony, and there it has remained, refusing to give up its secrets to the rest of Pocatello. The Nerjan government is determined to use the spaceship’s technology to give them an advantage in the brewing war against Pemberley, and Sir Asher Lowry is their last hope in cracking its code.

Asher and Andrea Lowry look the same, but they are as different as night and day: Asher is a prestigious scientist, a pioneer in harnessing lightning’s power. Andrea is a fiery street urchin with a dangerous secret. Together, the twins are sent to Saxony to research the spaceship for Nerja. Asher and Andrea know they are pawns in a war they don’t believe in, but these outcasts think they have no other choice but to follow orders.

As soon as they arrive in Saxony, Asher and Andrea realize that it isn’t just fields to be harvested. It’s a country with a completely different way of life, with many innocent—and interesting—native people. And the spaceship it harbors is a technology capable of terrible destruction. For the first time, Asher and Andrea have something worth fighting for.

Can Ash and Andy hold on to the life they’ve found despite the looming war? And how can they keep their own powers from being used against everything that they believe in and care about?

Fire and Lightning is the fourth tale from Pocatello. Approximately 12,000 words.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stormy Night Publishing
• Release date: Nov 7, 2015
• ISBN: 9781516310258

Jessie Sanders

Jessie Sanders reads, writes, and parents in Oklahoma. She is a freelance editor of fiction and the author of the Grover Cleveland Academy series.

Book preview

Fire

Andrea thought of running when they reached the border. But she knew, and the guards did too, that she and Asher would never be able to navigate the fields of Saxony by themselves. It was probably safer for them to remain with the group and see what waited for them in Quadrant Four, Field D. That was why the guards could afford to look so bored. There was nowhere to go but onward.

The journey across Pemberley into Saxony had been long. Their group had left in only the sixth shift of the night and were traveling by coalhorse, but still it was fully morning of Ceren’s Day by the time they reached Quadrant Four. At times, Andrea could pretend that this was an adventure, not a sentencing. With the sun now high above them and the loud, fuming coalhorse traded for live horses, Andrea relaxed and inspected their surroundings.

Andrea knew that Saxony was farm land, but she was still surprised by how rural Saxony was in person. Unlike the cramped, dirty streets of Las Cruces or the winding, dank passages of Unicorn Academy, Saxony was open and bright. The road was a horse trail beaten through high, waving grasses. Heads of wheat brushed against Andrea’s boots as she rode her horse through the fields.

Asher sat straight and proper on his horse. He had the same thin, blond hair as Andrea, the same pointy chin, and the same green eyes. Andrea was certain that if she cropped her hair as short as Asher’s, instead of letting it grow long enough to swing across her back, they would be impossible to tell apart. When Andrea took a deep breath of the clean air and sighed, Asher turned to her and smiled. He felt it too.

They arrived in Quadrant Four during the second shift of the morning. The white tents of the soldiers’ barracks sprang up quickly—one moment they could see only grasses, and the next they were almost upon the camp. Most of the tents were in orderly rows and columns, but a few, which looked hastily constructed, straggled around the perimeter. There was a paddock of horses not far off.

The soldiers went directly to the general’s tent to see about their orders. A few went inside while the others stared at Asher and Andrea, who dismounted their horses and stretched their legs. Andrea felt within her the desire to run, to flee as fast and as far as she could. Instead she ran her hands through her hair, and she felt the sting of heat and heard the crackle of the sparks as it left her fingertips.

Asher nodded toward the mess tent, and Andrea noted they were setting out plates and serving dishes; a meal was approaching, but the stillness of the camp indicated that the soldiers had yet to return from the fields.

Think they’ll set a place for us? Andrea asked.

Asher shrugged. It depends on whether we’re to be treated as guests or... He paused. We don’t belong here. We don’t belong anywhere.

You belonged at the Academy, Andrea whispered. Before I came.

No, I didn’t, not really, Asher told her, also in a whisper. They respected me, but they didn’t understand what my work was about. They didn’t accept what I was trying to do.

Andrea opened her mouth for words of encouragement, but she had none. It had never occurred to her that her brother—the genius, the Non—could also feel rejected.

The tent’s opening rustled, and the soldiers exited. They didn’t even look at Asher or Andrea as they filed past toward one row of tents. A few seconds later, the general pushed through the flaps of the tent. Another officer, a captain, followed tightly on his heels.

General, the captain said, his voice strained and low, "I respectfully