The Original Midorian: The Mirror Souls Trilogy, #3

By Julia Scott

What's the point of being a weapon if you can't control it?

 

Evading the Avalon and bringing her family back together is just out of Alana's reach. Now that Councilor Keren has the key to destroying the Gaian race, the Midorian Intervention will stop at nothing to ensure she can't use it.

 

Between Keren's attempts to destroy an entire race and Mal's plans to use her, Alana is forced to take matters into her own hands to save not only her brother, but every Gaian on the planet.

 

Nothing is as it seems, and when she learns more about her past lives than she bargained for, she has to face her worst fears to decide who truly has the best intentions for the Gaian people.

 

Alana is divided—along with the anahata shared between her two Mirror Souls—and the time has come to decide who and what she's fighting for.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Julia Scott
• Release date: Jul 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9781916090064

Book preview

Contents

Note from the Author

One: Alana

Two: Alana

Three: Alana

Four: Dray

Five: Alana

Six: Alana

Seven: Alana

Eight: Alana

Nine: Alana

Ten: Dray

Eleven: Alana

Twelve: Alana

Thirteen: Dray

Fourteen: Alana

Fifteen: Alana

Sixteen: Alana

Seventeen: Alana

Eighteen: Alana

Nineteen: Alana

Twenty: Alana

Twenty One: Alana

Twenty Two: Dray

Twenty Three: Dray

Twenty Four: Alana

Twenty Five: Alana

Twenty Six: Alana

Twenty Seven: Alana

Twenty Eight: Alana

Twenty Nine: Alana

Thirty: Alana

Thirty One: Alana

Thirty Two: Dray

Thirty Three: Alana

Thirty Four: Alana

Thirty Five: Alana

Thirty Six: Alana

Thirty Seven: Alana

Epilogue: Dray

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Midorian translations

About the Author

Beam Me Up Scott!

Acknowledgements

Note from the Author

Welcome back to Gaia, what was once called ‘Earth’, in the year 2198. It’s time to see how the story ends for Alana and her Mirror Souls… Are you ready?

The Original Midorian contains some Midorian phrases which you can find in a translation guide at the end of the book.

One: Alana

The Earth was not ours to keep.

The Avalon reminded us, time and time again. Gaia did not belong to us, regardless of our name. Perhaps it never had. On every Shift Day, every half cycle, they reminded us where the Gaians belonged on the ladder. A few rungs down. Lower. Inferior.

I’d believed it, mostly. But the truth had been dredged from my past life memories while sitting in a Processing chair in a lab deep in the Underground; the Earth—Gaia—fully belonged to the Gaian race—to humans. It was the way things had been intended all along. If only we hadn’t screwed up so badly, pushing the Council of the Seven Races to get the Avalon to intervene, perhaps I would have had a normal life. If such a thing even existed.

There was a chance I could have been happy on Nimbus if I’d been forced to stay. The smell of burnt wood and ash was fading since a group of us cleared the worst of the damage from the fire in the arboretum. I pushed a trowel through the soil, making space for the seeds the keepers had instructed me to sow. Dirt lined my fingernails, but I didn’t care. The arboretum had always been my favorite place on the Midorian spaceship, and after going there to tend and water and grow instead of training with Mal on controlling the anahata, I liked it all the more.

I swallowed hard as I dug another hole, pushing aside the memory of training as fast as I could.

It had been less than a week since I’d returned to Nimbus, and working in the arboretum had been my primary focus. Everyone knew as well as I did that I was using it as an excuse to avoid certain people—not to mention avoiding thinking about what happened on Dracoa. Thankfully, no one brought it up, not even Mal, and they left me to my tasks and reeling thoughts.

My dreams of my past lives had disappeared along with the anahata, the Mirror Soul energy, and had been replaced with a recurring nightmare that involved falling through the transparent floor of a prison cell in Dracoa. Tumbling, screaming, yet never hitting the jungle below. Just…falling. I shuddered thinking about it.

You okay, Al?

I turned to my dad and smiled. He’d been in the arboretum with me every day since we’d returned, and I was more than grateful. It took me by surprise nearly every time I saw his face or heard his voice. How long would it take for it to sink in that my father was alive? Discovering he was suspended in cryostasis was one thing—I’d spent hours talking to his cold, sleeping form for weeks without a response. He could finally answer me.

I’m fine, Dad. Just…thinking.

Dad chuckled, my heart warming at the sound. Yeah, nature will do that to you, he said, as he carried on turning the soil over next to me, pulling out dead leaves and charred debris. I watched his hands work in wonder. Nine cycles passing in cryostasis had aged Dad, but not by much. His brow was furrowed in concentration on his task, deep lines set across his face. Maybe he was as lost in thought as I was.

I debated bringing up the same thing I brought up every day: What else could he remember? I’d always hesitate before asking because it reminded both of us why he had gaps in his memories. The Midorians, not the Avalon, had Processed him. They’d forced him to forget. Every time I asked Dad to think back to the past, to before he was Processed, he faltered and struggled. He’d say the words were on the tip of his tongue, evading him every single time. Nothing I could do or say would help. The undoing of Processing took time—precious time we didn’t have. Although the anahata, the transformative pulse of energy I’d created in the cells on Dracoa, had kick-started the Deprocessing, he needed more time to work his way through it. Maybe he needed to be exposed to it a second time? If Aiden—

A lump rose to my throat as the thought stalled and ground to a halt. The anahata that had reversed Dad’s Processing hadn’t been between me and Aiden. My other Mirror Soul’s name and face rushed into my mind, and I tossed it back out again.

My other Mirror Soul.

I was still so sure Mal was wrong. I refused to believe having two Mirror Souls was possible.

I turned to Dad, but before I could say anything, he spoke first.

You know, I can tell exactly what you’re thinking. His voice was soft as he looked back at me. Like I said before, if I remember anything, I’ll let you know right away.

I tossed my trowel on the ground. I was hoping it wouldn’t take this long, I admitted, and Dad shrugged his shoulders. My impatience was showing. I knew that. But I needed the information Dad had, and soon.

On our return to Nimbus, he’d dropped the bombshell on me that Mal had been the one to Process him, not the Avalon. He said the Midorians put him in cryostasis because he knew what their plans were. I’d waited for him to reveal the grand plan to me, but his words had sputtered and failed to form into any kind of coherence. He knew that he knew, but he didn’t know what he knew.

Right! he said. That’s enough mud for one day, don’t you think?

I snapped my head up as he stood, brushing dirt from his jumpsuit. Midorian clothes didn’t look right on Dad any more than they did me. What else is there to do around here?

Plenty! he replied with a smile. I’ve got a lot of living to catch up on! I’m off to find your mom.

I scrunched my nose at him. Ugh, don’t!

Dad tipped his head back and laughed heartily, another sound I’d missed all these cycles. The surrounding Midorian workers turned to look at him, irritated. The clean-up job was serious work to them.

That’s not what I meant, Alana! Although… He put a thoughtful hand on his chin and an impish smile crossed his face.

I shook my head. Gross, Dad.

Come on, he said, as he picked up his tools and put them away. You can’t hide out in here the whole time. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.

I frowned at him. I don’t know what you mean.

I’d been spending my days either in my room or in the arboretum, aside from mealtimes which I’d kept brief. I wasn’t sure who I was avoiding more—Aiden or Dray. To be honest, I couldn’t say if I was avoiding Aiden, or he was avoiding me.

At least Dray had attempted to talk to me. He’d even knocked on my door once, calling through it so I knew it was him. I hadn’t answered, and I’d spent the next few hours lying on my bed debating with myself whether I should have. It wasn’t his fault we had a…connection. I didn’t blame him, and I didn’t regret saving him on Dracoa—not that he’d thanked me for it. The trouble was, I didn’t know what to say to him anymore.

When I’d first met Dray, he made it seem that he cared for me; that perhaps there was something more there. That’s what I’d thought, until I’d discovered the only reason he had anything to do with me in the first place was because of the Midorian Intervention, on Mal’s orders. Then, in Dr. Hope’s lab, I found out Dray and I had lived past lives together. Important lives. And then there was the case of the anahata explosion between Dray and I on Dracoa.

Regardless of whether I’d wondered about his feelings towards me, my excuse to not consider any of it had always been Aiden. My Mirror Soul. I didn’t have that excuse anymore.

On top of everything else, I wasn’t some half-Midorian living a simple Gaian life on Gaia. I was one of the Original Midorians. I held the key to the creation, and the destruction, of the Gaian race.

I sucked in a breath and picked up the trowel again to finish what I was doing. I threw the remaining seeds into the soil and covered them. At least one good thing had come from my newfound Original Midorian status, and that was being allowed to attend the Midorian Intervention council meetings. Mal was back in charge, since he’d been released and Keren locked up in his place. I guess they’d decided I was Midorian enough to have a say in what was happening, and boy, did I have a lot to say to Mal! Whether he’d listen was another matter.

Mal had accepted the decision to include me begrudgingly. The fact that Aiden had set fire to his precious flora probably had something to do with it. Or perhaps my friendship with Gen—a half-Avalon—made him trust me less. Either way, I was going to be at tomorrow’s meeting whether he liked it or not and finally get some answers.

That left me with a full day to fill. Finding things to distract me from my thoughts as much as possible was my key focus, and digging in the dirt wasn’t cutting it. I agreed with Dad that nature was calming and helped you think, but at that moment I wanted something to help me not think. I’d done enough thinking over the past few days.

I watched as Dad put away his tools and considered asking if he and Mom wanted to go to the rec room. It had been a while since we’d spent time together, but I hesitated as the guilt hit me. It shouldn’t be the three of us together…it should be the four of us. Simeon was still in the Underground, with Elodie, his Mirror Soul.

Before I could decide whether to impose on Dad's time with Mom, Dray appeared through the foliage. He stopped at the one lone Eilvera tree that had been unharmed in the fire, and leaned against its smooth bark, looking straight at me.

Alana. He gave me a brief nod, the singular word making my heart leap—with nerves more than anything else. Remembering his lack of gratitude over me saving his life drove away the nerves and gave me a bitter edge.

Yes? I said, just as short.

Are you coming?

I frowned at him. What? For once, it would be nice for Dray to say what he meant without his typical abrupt vagueness.

The council meeting? They invited you, right?

I stood up, brushing the dirt and ash from my knees. What? The council meeting is tomorrow.

Uh, no, he replied, folding his arms across his chest. It started about ten minutes ago, so we’re late. His arms changed their mind and unfolded, hands driven into his pockets instead. Are you coming? he repeated.

Why did no one tell me? I grabbed my sweater from the seats stacked by the water tower and pulled it down over my head. Running my fingers through my hair, I hoped it would tame the curls enough to look presentable for a meeting with the leaders of the Midorian resistance.

I’m telling you now. They rescheduled it, Dray said, shrugging his shoulders. When you didn’t turn up, I figured no one had told you and I guessed I’d find you here.

My mouth tightened. Of course Mal had rescheduled the meeting and forgotten to tell me. Why was I even surprised? What had surprised me was that Dray had bothered to come find me and make sure I didn’t miss it.

Without saying a word, he turned and headed back down the path through the singed trees and shrubs, towards the arboretum’s exit. I mumbled a brief goodbye to Dad, promising to find him later, and rushed after Dray. He hung back once he was out in the corridor to let me catch up. We walked side by side, heading towards the Council Hall.

Dray glanced at me and finally broke the silence. You’ve got dirt on your face, and pieces of tree in your hair. He said it so matter-of-fact that I couldn’t help bursting into laughter.

Great, thanks! I’m sure I’ll make a great impression on the elders, then.

Dray smiled, and as we reached the intricately carved wooden doors covering the entrance to the council hall, he stopped and took my shoulders to turn me towards him. His hands were warm and his eyes met mine.

You don’t need to make an impression on them. They’re already impressed by you. You’re the Original Midorian, remember? As if I could forget. All we need to do is find out what they want from us, and find out how to get what we want from them in return.

I frowned. You think they’ll help us get what we want? He had more faith in the Midorian Intervention than I did. He certainly trusted Mal more than I did. I wondered if he knew that Mal and the other elders were the ones who put my dad through Processing and cryostasis.

We need to work together. Compromise. Give them what they want, and we can get what we need.

Dray ran a thumb across my cheek, wiping the dirt from my face. With the way his startling violet eyes were boring into mine, I half expected the anahata coiled up within me to make another powerful appearance. But there were no bullets to stop. There was no panic at losing someone I cared about. He snapped his hand back, rubbing it down the scar on his jaw.

Remember what Soraya said, he continued. You have what they need. You hold more power than you realize.

How did you—

Before I could ask how he knew what Soraya had said to me, Dray was already pushing on the left door, which swung open to reveal the council hall. The channel of water running down the center was as serene as the last time I’d been there, lined with people who sat along the benches running the length of the room. Only the first few rows of both sides were filled, but every set of eyes turned our way as we stepped inside.

Ah, Alana! And Dray. Mal stood on the platform at the back of the hall, back-lit by the glowing light of the moon which filled the view from the circular window behind him. Our two celebrities! You made it.

Faces followed us intently as Dray and I walked towards the platform along either side of the channel. As I approached the back of the hall, I noticed Soraya in the front row closest to her grandfather, watching me as carefully as the rest of the council members. Capturing Councilor Keren on Dracoa had elevated her status, and she sat with her head held high. Her brother, Emir, was seated next to her, staring me down with disdain.

Mal shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back onto his heels, gazing at me over the top of his glasses as I approached.

No one told me the meeting had been rescheduled, I said, not bothering to hide the accusation in my tone. Thankfully, Dray came and found me.

Good, good, Mal replied. Please, take a seat. He motioned to the benches closest to me, where a few of the more military-looking members sat. They shuffled across to make space as Dray sidled in first and I followed.

Mal cleared his throat, taking his hands back out of his pockets to clasp them behind his back. As I was saying, we’ve increased security on Nimbus to make sure the translocation channels to the ship are blocked. If the Avalon attempt to return here, they’ll soon find they cannot.

Soraya stood. You know they won’t stop until they’ve retrieved Keren from Nimbus, Grandfather. Regardless of whether they can translocate here, they’ll find another way.

Several Midorians in the back row behind her murmured together, and she spun her head to glare at them as she sat down.

Yes, Soraya, I appreciate that, Mal said. I know better than anyone how important Keren is to the Avalon.

Then why keep her here? another woman asked. Send her back to Gaia! Then Nimbus will no longer be an Avalon target. More voices murmured, seemingly in agreement, on both sides.

Mal raised his voice over the sound. She knows more than she’s telling us. The hall silenced. We’ve tried to get as much information from Councilor Keren as we can, but she’s proving to be…resistant. We have, however, discovered what the Avalon plan to do with the information she extracted on Dracoa from the Original Midorians.

More eyes glanced our way and my shoulders tightened. I already knew what my capture had cost the Midorians, and more importantly, what it was going to cost the Gaians. Nausea hit me before Mal said the words aloud.

The Avalon have accessed the DNA key that will unlock their ability to remove the Midorian aspect from the Gaian race.

The woman who had spoken gasped, and a deathly silence descended on the hall. I wanted to say something, to break the silence. I wanted to say sorry for failing them—for failing everyone on Gaia. The Avalon had the ability to Process everyone on the planet to the point where they would no longer be Gaian, and it was my fault. I’d potentially destroyed an entire race, all because I’d walked into a trap.

All because I was trying to find Aiden.

Eventually, Emir spoke, glancing at me and Dray from the corner of his eye. We have a counterplan, yes? Is this situation one in which we would have to resort to such measures?

Mal placed a thoughtful hand on his chin. I have always considered it as a last resort, but yes. I think we’re at that point now.

What counterplan? Dray asked, looking between Emir and Mal, who looked decidedly uncomfortable.

So that was why Mal didn’t want me at the meeting. More secrets.

That is confidential information, I’m afraid, Mal replied.

Bullshit, Dray snapped back, standing. If it’s got anything to do with the Mirror Souls— He paused, his hands clenching and releasing. He was a Mirror Soul. Mine. Or at least…one of mine. Or if it’s got anything to do with the Original Midorians, then we should know about it. We have a right to know!

I tensed as Mal stepped down from the platform and began pacing the channel, his hands back in his pockets once more. Dray wasn’t usually so direct or demanding. Any time I’d seen him interact with Mal, he’d been respectful—a soldier to a sergeant.

Sit down, young one, he chided, his voice dangerously low, speaking to Dray without looking at him. The time will come when we will need to take harsher action, he announced to the Council, but before that, we need to find out the Avalon’s plan from Keren and decide on the most effective way to stop them.

A uniformed Midorian general seated next to us stood abruptly, grabbing Dray’s shoulder to push him back down into his seat. Dray’s hands balled into fists as he glared up at him.

We must protect Nimbus at all costs, and divert more of our defensive forces to Gaia! the general shouted across the hall. It is no secret the Avalon have been doing the same. We cannot rely on the counterplan. We must prepare for war!

The hall erupted in a cacophony of voices, fearful and angry.

There will be no war, General Ishka! Mal yelled through the din. I will not leave Midoria defenseless, and even if I wanted to, the Midorian High Council would never agree to it.

There has to be another way! a woman in the row in front of me added, her voice edged with panic. One with less destruction! Maloret, please. Reconsider.

We need more information from Keren before we can consider any of the paths that we must take, Mal replied, his voice rising above the murmuring echoing around the hall. The Avalon won’t simply Process each Gaian one by one until they’re all converted. They will try to do it in one fell swoop. We may not have much time!

Yet again, a confusing mixture of Midorian and Gaian voices rose in a crescendo that threatened to make my headaches return. Suggestion upon suggestion of how to get Keren to talk were tossed out and were all shot down.

I stood. We’ll speak to her. No one heard me, so I said it louder. We’ll speak to her!

Dray stood as well, grabbed me by the hand and, stepping in front of me, pulled me away from the benches and down towards the platform steps. The room quieted as we both made our way up, hand in hand. Mal blinked up at us with indignation and I waited for Dray to say something to the crowd of council members all looking at us. He let go of my hand and nudged me with his shoulder.

I coughed nervously. We’ll talk to Councilor Keren and find out what we can.

Mal barked a laugh. What makes you think you can do any more than anyone else here, Alana Cain? We’ve had our best people working on her for days.

Because, Dray answered for us, we have the only weapon she’s truly afraid of.

Two: Alana

The council meeting had ended with even more arguments. Emir tried his best to convince Mal to keep me and Dray far from Keren while Soraya made her case for the opposite, which surprised me. We’d won, and they agreed General Ishka would take us to the holding cells.

My stomach lurched as we followed the general down the corridors in a direction I’d never been before. Of course, everything looked the same on maze-like Nimbus with its identical doors and generic windows with ever-changing views of the stars. We could have rounded the corner and appeared at the dining hall for all I knew. However, the type of doors we were walking past soon changed, from the basic sliding doors of all the other rooms I’d seen during my time there, to much heavier doors that were hinged at the ceiling and bolted down both sides.

What are we supposed to say to her? I whispered to Dray, who was staring ahead.

He snapped out of his trance. I thought you knew what you were going to say! You were the one to suggest going to talk to her.

Heat rose in my cheeks. I thought we could threaten her with the anahata. I tried my hardest to sound confident, but as soon as the words left my mouth, I realized how stupid it sounded. Keren would see right through it, like she did everything else.

Dray stopped, grabbing my arm as General Ishka continued walking ahead. The anahata. It came out as a statement rather than a question, his expression curious, as though he wanted to see what was going on in my head.

It did some damage to Keren and her soldiers on Dracoa. I… I figured it would be a good threat?

I considered that, too, Dray admitted. I waited for him to elaborate, but as always, he didn’t. Instead, he stared up at the ceiling in thought.

I know it only happened that one time… My voice trailed off. I wasn’t sure what to say, or even what he thought about it.

Yeah, he finally said, his eyes meeting mine in the brightly lit hallway. It was only one time. Dray’s jaw clenched. We can’t guarantee we could make it happen again. I don’t even know how.

My heart started thumping. Did I even want to recreate the anahata with Dray? What would it mean for us if we did? What would it mean for me and Aiden?

I paused. Neither do I, I said, my voice faltering, betraying my thoughts.

Keren doesn’t have to know that, though. Dray started walking again, either not noticing or not acknowledging my hesitancy, and I followed close behind. Hopefully she won’t realize—

Hurry along, you two! General Ishka had stopped, glaring at us over his shoulder. I don’t have all day.

Dray gave me one last glance, somewhere between concern and curiosity, before we marched ahead to catch up with the general. We stood in