Brava: Space

By Claudette Marco

BE PREPARED, BECAUSE YOU JUST NEVER KNOW...
Forced to join a gang to gain the attention of parents who could care less, 15-year-old Brava Hernandez fended for herself in the heart of East Los Angeles, 2219. Drugs, robberies, gang violence ... nothing much had changed over the past two centuries. Her only escape was to watch the Sci & Psych Channel, which transported her imagination to galaxies far away. She learned yoga to control her inner pain, exercise to defend herself on the streets, and social interaction from the show hosts. The only person who ever helped her was her school counselor, who introduced Brava to Captain Wirkkala of the exploratory space ship Justice. He hired her as his assistant and she set off on a real space adventure! Come aboard as Brava learns the ins and outs of her ship, the Oikeudenmukaisuus, the Finnish word for Justice, and meets new friends. However, facing a mutiny, a maniacal scientist, and hostile aliens, Brava’s strength and determination will be tested... and that’s only the beginning!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Claudette Marco
• Release date: Nov 21, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370387175

Claudette Marco

Claudette Marco, scrivener of poetry and short stories since she was a child, earned a B.A. degree from Whittier College, soul budding in world wild. After many years of toil, soul searching for relief, she finally reclaimed path towards labor complete: writing. Home locates in Kingman, AZ.

Book preview

Prologue

In one moment, the fog lifted from the eyes of the universe, and there I came to be. Initia smiled. I looked around and saw nothing but hope around me. Then, a small ship travelled past me. Inside was a woman on a voyage with two other women, pressing buttons. Curious, I looked inside their window.

She looked at the shirtless, barefoot man wearing white pants. He lay on an examination table a few feet away from her. His hand and its large red birthmark trembled. He was not strapped down, but he knew running away would be useless— and screaming would be in vain.

Why do you insist on torturing me? he shouted.

Initia shut her eyes, annoyed at his interruption. She took a deep breath and continued. "Every day, they kept the same routines, eating and sleeping at the same Earth times and performing regular maintenance on the ship. I admired their self-control and intelligence. The Captain especially showed a commanding presence. She would send messages to people. Everything is going well, Sir…I’m fine, Mom. However, she wasn’t fine. In her personal logs, she wrote about how she yearned for answers to the meaning of existence, and then lamented at how nobody could give her any.

She diligently recorded readings of a substance that neither emitted nor absorbed light. Wanting a closer look at those readings, I moved inside through the thin, metal wall. She shook her head. Such a primitive enclosure…

She thought of something, and chuckled. "In making its rounds, the sensors would sometimes catch me around the ship, and beep. Her crewwomen would gather the readings and notify her. I would simply move, and the beeping would stop. The Captain attributed the readings to radiation pockets from a supernova that had blown up thousands of light years away.

Her black eyes roamed slowly to the man. "I had watched them long enough. I knew my time had come. Her computers beeped incessantly upon my entrance. The Captain didn’t know what was going on. She sifted through all the readings. Then, her face beamed with wonder as the computer formulated a figure in red dots where I was standing. Though, her expression slowly changed to fear.

"I said to her, ‘I can give you the answers you seek.’

She looked behind her. She had heard me without hearing. She was intuitive, instinctive. I knew she would be perfect for me.

Initia looked at her hand. When I entered her body, I thought about her knee, and it moved. I thought about her fingers and they wiggled. It was exhilarating. Being inside of her felt like a missing piece of the universe had opened to me. I could move, I could breathe. I had control of two worlds at once.

The captain’s eyes lit up. That means you can suffocate.

Her eyes narrowed. It’s going to take a lot more than that to kill me.

The stars hummed as they moved across the ceiling. The stars…the stars… he said, really hearing the hum for the first time after dismissing it as background noise. He tried to gain some comfort in the sound, realizing he had taken many things in life for granted.

She didn’t care about what he said. For her crew, I used their essence, their souls, and infused them with my energy, my power. They are my Continens. She gestured to the two red alien women sitting on a dais behind her. I sent for another ship, hand-picking its crew as my new guards. I could feel the power of their minds, the expanse of their intelligence, even as they approached my ship. It excited me, seeing my future come together.

Initia’s Militia, he said in a sarcastic tone. You mean to declare war, then?

She looked back at her Continens. They laughed, though, no sound left their lips. Initia sat back in her black throne with stretching galaxies, as if the universe was shrunken down and stretched over the groves and armrests of a large chair. She chuckled. War? Oh, no. I want to make a home for us on Earth, a planet of plentiful…resources. But, there is no way of doing that right now. Most humans hate what they don’t understand. We would be in danger. Humans outnumber us. In order for us to have a place in your world, there must be a leader there to welcome us. Throughout your history, you have had leaders who fought for the weak, but they were too weak to keep even themselves alive. Your world needs one strong leader, a Leviathan. With the help of this human Leviathan, I have faith that we will find acceptance in a world that rejects everything different.

A dictator, he said.

That’s exactly what a weak-willed follower would say, she snapped. You will never understand. How could you? Humans are selfish barbarians who would consume everything until there’s nothing left. You should indulge in the perfection of your planet and the miracle of your biological existence. Humans are disgraceful, filled with cowardice in their hearts, horrors in their minds, and emptiness in their souls.

You are the horror, Initia, he said.

Mr.—

We had an agreement!

You violated that agreement. You know what you did. Now, you must pay the penalty.

He exhaled loudly and stared at the ceiling. Time moved quickly. He finally questioned his motives, remembering the people he betrayed and the actions that led him to this moment, his final moment. The deaths I caused…I will never forgive myself.

Initia studied him. "Only a small ember of life smokes within you—the former Captain of this ship. You haven’t even corrected how I have been addressing you."

She stood up and walked towards him. The other two women followed her. ‘Captain’ is a term only suited for leaders, those with intellectual prowess and genetic perfection. She placed her hand on his chest and shook her head. A few of your crew are smart, and they have joined me. But you…your pride overruled any bravery you might have had.

One woman ran her fingers over his temples, down his cheeks, and over his chin and long beard, admiring him. The other rubbed his leg and stomach.

Mmm, yes, you are both right. He has his quality. But, we cannot keep him.

The woman at his head pressed hard on his temples. The woman at his leg and stomach dug her nails into his skin. Initia pressed on his chest. Do not make the same mistake in the next universe!

The three women moved close to his skin, closed their eyes, and inhaled. A red ethereal smoke wafted from his body and soul, his life force being sucked from his body. He screamed in pain, the sound echoing in the black walls before it diminished into silence. The alien women’s red skin glowed in satiation. They inhaled until there was no more smoke.

Si fuera sabia

Si fuera fuerte

nada me faltaría en la vida.

Por sea caso, llevo mi voluntad

perfecta, unica y pura.

If I were wise

if I were strong

I would need nothing else in life.

Just in case, I take my will,

perfect, unique, and pure.

2219 A.D.

Chapter 1

Brava struggled to push the next breath from her chest. Everything became silent as she stood still on the cement floor of the garage. A punch struck her across her nose and upper lip, the force of the blow vibrating her cheekbone, skull, and brain.

You think you’re dangerous, little girl? said one of the young women, breaking the silence.

She don’t got what it takes to run with us, another said.

I heard she gets around. That means she’s weak up there. The third member of the group pointed to Brava’s head.

Brava blocked out the pain she felt from the punch, a survival technique she learned on her own from other fights. She readied herself to fight back, clenching her fists and taking small steps on the balls of her feet, another technique she learned: be light on your feet for ideal range of motion. Then, she relaxed. They were just taunting her, even though they were telling the truth about how they felt.

And weak down there, from what I heard, said another. They laughed at Brava, the Latina women’s cackles echoing in the tightly packed houses of East Los Angeles.

Brava looked around. Their faces reminded her of black splotches of old gum on a cracked concrete floor. They were ugly to her, ugly with malice. She thought of the years of doing horrible things for them, how they hurt people for their enjoyment, all while listening to their jealous comments: Brava’s as smart as a stupid cop; or, Girls who aren’t pretty, fight, and Brava can throw a good punch.

It hit her at once. She couldn’t accept this anymore. The adrenaline rush of a cornered wolf powered through her.

Brava turned and punched the closest accoster across the jaw. Another hit Brava in the stomach. She felt only minimal pain, the benefit of keeping herself physically fit by necessity. Brava countered with a backhand uppercut to her chin. Blood flew from her attacker’s mouth, along with a piece of the young woman’s tongue.

From the corner of her eye, Brava saw three young women rushing her. She hunched down and kicked one in the lower thigh, hyperextending the attacker’s knee. She screamed and fell to the floor. Brava let her elbows fly and struck one in the chest. The last girl avoided her elbows and grabbed her from behind. Brava leapt into the air, leaning backwards. She fell right on top of her, the young woman’s head and body smashing onto the concrete.

Brava quickly rolled off and stood up. The first person she saw was Joana, the leader of the East L.A. Ocho gang.

What are you doing? Joana growled.

Brava realized she couldn’t fight back anymore. They were no match for her, but she couldn’t fight them, not now, not ever. The other women threw multiple punches to the sides of her stomach and shoulders. Get her! some on the floor shouted. Then, she felt an elbow to her eye, followed by a kick to her calf muscle. Her leg fell forwards. A kick to her lower back sent her to the garage floor. She covered her face and head with her forearms, protecting herself as best she could.

The fifteen- and sixteen-year-old women held nothing back. What is my future going to be like? Brava thought. Would this make my father happy? Is making my father happy really worth this torture?

The smell of old leather and rusted tools filled her nostrils, bringing her back to the beating. I can take this, though…the man in Sanchez Park struck better than these girls.

Brava felt arms underneath hers. Her accosters picked her up and began hugging her slowly, but hugging her nonetheless. A couple of others cheered.

Joana flashed her usual frown. Welcome to the East L.A. Ocho, Brava.

Brava looked at the gang members and nodded, swallowing the pain, holding back her tears of regret.

The next day, a Friday, Brava did not feel like going to school. However, there were final exams in two of her sophomore classes: Physical Science and Algebra II. Those were the only classes for which she felt any responsibility. She had barely passed her freshman year classes, her perfect scores in Biology and Algebra classes saving her grade point average.

She awoke to a throbbing pain all over her body, but the worst was in her face. In the mirror, she saw the culprit: a bulging, bloody eye and a swollen, cut upper lip. She slowly tied her hair up in a ponytail like she always did, evening out her short bangs that covered her forehead, and put large bandages over her eye and on her lip. She slipped on her black baggie pants, slim blue shirt that hugged over the curves of her toned, yet bruised, stomach and defined arms, and her dependable, scuffed, ankle-high black leather boots. For the past couple years, she’d fixed the holes in the few clothes she owned because she refused to ask her parents for any more money than necessary.

She also refused to get any tattoos. When her gang members told her she had to get a tattoo of their gang insignia, she refused. She wanted nothing more to do with that gang than she had to. She lied and said she always washes her hands after using pens because an ingredient in pen ink made her allergic, and that they use the same ingredient to make tattoo ink. She never knew if anybody ever got sick from pen ink, but it convinced her now fellow gang members.

She slowly picked up her black, worn backpack and left for school. She walked through the main office towards the field, having taken another route to school because she was tired of her usual route through the open track field. She checked the time on the big office wall clock: 7:25 a.m. She blew out an exhale in annoyance. She wanted to get there an hour earlier, to do some computers research on the theoretical effects of a space ship’s negative particle field upon contact with the event horizon of a black hole while in FTL flight. But, she dragged from the pain in her body, and, more likely, the emotional pain of what happened the night before.

Oh, are you Brava? Yes, I think you are. I’ve seen you around school, said a peppy young woman from behind the counter.

Brava stopped and turned slowly, her face hurting with every movement of her head. Yes?

The woman’s pep faded when she saw Brava’s bandaged face. She cleared her throat. You just saved me a trip to your first class. Here is a note from Mrs. Williams, your advisor, excusing you from class. She is looking for you. You can go right now, the bell hasn’t rung yet.

Brava took the note and headed towards Mrs. Williams’ office. She knocked on the door. She heard a muffled ‘come in’ and walked into the office.

Ah, Brava, have a seat, Mrs. Williams said. The heavy African American woman waved her inside. Brava sat in the chair in front of Mrs. Williams’ desk.

Brava, your face, what happened? Mrs. Williams asked.

Brava looked away.

Mrs. Williams sat back in her chair, and straightened the jacket on her gray and white business suit. "The public education system…since 1954, 274 years ago, has not changed much. The world has not changed much. Children still come lonely, emotionally starved. They don’t realize that they can get their way. However, they have to use the best resource available to them: their brain. All too often their bodies and their souls have been beaten, their hope for anything taken from them. They feel that there is no way out. But there is. She paused. Now, some of these children do understand this. You understand this, Brava. Your science teacher, Mr. Marbeth, has talked to me extensively about you. I, in turn, spoke to your math teacher and she corroborated my assumptions: you are not special."

Brava looked up at her confused. What?

Yes, you are not special. No one is special. Mrs. Williams leaned forward in her chair. What you are is deserving. Do you know who ‘deserves’ in life?

Brava shook her head.

People— children who place value on their interests are deserving, because that means they place value on themselves. They take pride in their work. Mr. Marbeth speaks of a young woman whose eyes light up when she opens her textbook. After class, she asks him about cosmic elements, particles, properties of light, engines… she paused. …space flight.

Brava shifted in her chair.

He also says she waits until after all of her classmates leave to talk about all of this. Why? I know why, because she doesn’t want to look weak, different, in front of her homies.

Brava sat up and opened her mouth to speak. A mind like yours can never remain a secret, nor can it be excluded from opportunity, Mrs. Williams continued.

Brava pursed her lips and looked away.

Opportunity, Brava. The few times we chatted, you never said much. So, I have had to do some investigating on my own. But, we’ll get to that later. Do you know what my husband’s career is?

Brava shook her head.

My husband is a particle accelerator engineer for NASA. He has a friend who is, you could say, also in the sciences. This friend needs someone with sufficient knowledge in physics, quantum mechanics, quantum theory, and a basic understanding of space engines. His name is Captain Corbin Wirkkala. I had my husband set up a meeting for you this afternoon. Mrs. Williams began sorting papers on her desk.

Brava started to laugh at the craziness of it all, but stopped. Mrs. Williams was not laughing. What?

My dear, I want you out of here, out of this school, out of East Los Angeles, away from your mother and father.

My mother and father? Brava snapped.

Mrs. Williams slapped the papers down on her desk and stared at her. Getting jumped into a gang makes your father proud, hanging around thieves and murderers makes your father proud… she paused. Ending up in a wheelchair makes your father proud.

Brava couldn’t respond. How can I defend that?

My husband will pick you up in the faculty parking lot at 8 a.m. You will know who he is. He will wait approximately fifteen minutes. If you are not there, then your future won’t be with you either.

Her counselor’s words shook her to the core. She knew nothing more than to leave the office. She walked down the hall, only half-aware of where she was. She looked at the clock in one of the classrooms: 7:35 a.m. Twenty-five minutes. She reached the end of the hall.

What do I do now? I know. I’ll walk to the library…oh, I forgot. I’m supposed to meet Joana and the others at the field right now. ‘Something’s going down tonight,’ she had said. She swallowed hard. They’re going to do something horrible. No. I have to talk her out of whatever she is planning.

Brava started for the field. She stopped. She’s not going to listen to me. She’s not going to listen to anybody. My brother…how am I going to protect him if they do something…if I leave? Who am I kidding? He’s in a gang. They aren’t gonna touch him. They wouldn’t hurt Ma and Papa, either. They have gang friends of their own. Well, they might just hurt me when I get back. She shook her head. It was just a meeting. And if I don’t like what that Captain says, I’ll get back in time for tonight. What if I don’t? Mrs. Williams had never said where the meeting would take place. If it’s far and I get back late, I would have missed a run with Joana, and that would mean…I would have to do another run…by myself.

She stared at a tree, its thick, bare branches carrying the buds of spring. Small groups of students passed her, laughing and talking. Brava barely noticed them.

But Mrs. Williams said— she said aloud and gasped. She ran to the nearest classroom. 7:59 a.m. She gasped again, and then sprinted towards the faculty parking lot.

She ran through the doors of the hall leading to the parking lot. A tall man stood next to the opened passenger door of his BMW, the muted rays of gray sky gleaming on his dark brown skin. He checked his watch. 8:00 a.m. You’re right on time, he said and smiled.

She took a deep breath and headed for the car.

I’ve known Corbin since college. He came with a group of other engineering students from Finland as guests of Stanford. We talked for a long time while he was here and we kept in touch since then. He’s a good man, Mr. Williams said.

Can you tell me more about this ‘opportunity’? Brava asked.

"I’ll let him tell you. But, I’ll tell you more about him. He was a civilian designing space engines and building parts for the Finnish Air Force. After the European Union relaxed foreign corporate taxes, Finland had enjoyed an economic boost, with many international companies coming to invest and build in the country.

Finland knew that the world was heading out into space, so the country looked into creating its own space program. Military officers found out Corbin took a couple classes in political science when he was at the University of Cambridge and appointed him as captain on one their space ships. They were preparing to fight in the Mars Wars, looking to make their mark with the world superpowers, and needed all the personnel they could find to fill as many ships as they could construct.

Brava put up her hand. Wait a minute. Is he the one who lead the ‘Wirkkala Decoys’ that were supposed to sacrifice themselves for the Allied fleet? But instead, Wirkkala used his ship’s static electricity, in great danger to them, to charge up an approaching asteroid and sparked it, creating a massive explosion, destroying the incoming, so-called, R.E.M. fleet? She paused to slow down her excitement, to catch her breath. "But at the same time used the ship’s and the asteroid’s metals to create a magnetic shield in between the ship and the asteroid which pushed their own ship away from any damage? The man known around the world as the Invoker, the ‘one who invokes the power of magnetism’, the Legend?"

He looked at her and smiled. My, my, you have been paying attention.

The Mars Wars… she said and looked out the car window.

Yes, the Mars Wars. You probably already know why these wars were fought.

Technology is in everything we do, which puts a greater demand on Rare Earth Metals, or R.E.M., like tantulum and yttrium. Mining R.E.M. took its toll on the Earth, wiping out its supply. Companies began recycling programs. But, even that didn’t meet the demand for them. It was rumored that some research team found these minerals with one of their research rovers deep in the Mars’ crust where the ice used to be at the poles. ‘Used to be’, because many years ago, the countries on Earth that could afford to send spaceship missions to Mars harvested it all for research, Brava said. The Ice Rush.

Right, Mr. Williams said.

They took no time in finishing their geo-domes and started mining, Brava said.

Then, the fight for territory started, Mr. Williams said. Since nuclear weapons were banned on Earth and in space, some countries felt that the arm of executing those Universal laws did not reach beyond Earth. And, indeed, any country which had money, and whose leaders had lost their minds, had the freedom to do anything it wanted.

So many people died in space, Brava said, shaking her head.

"If one person is jumping from the cliff, might as