Skies Over Tomorrow: Constellation by Kelly B. Johnson Page A

looked at me; I saw fear settling on his face as he backed away, and as I lowered my head and closed my eyes, he called out: “Shoot her!”
    Time was my first thought before rapid gunfire erupted in the assembly hall and neon-green tracer rounds streaked toward me. The projectiles slowed and stopped at my will. Wind was my second thought, and a cool breeze whirled around me. It expanded and hardened. I was safe, and called for time to release its grip on the bullets. The invisible wall sparked under the gunfire, as it bent the course of the rounds. There were cries of agony before me. Darkness was my last thought, and the sounds of death hollered from my rear, as the shadows morphed into a living, shapeless organism and consumed and snapped and ripped the bones and flesh of the eight gendarmes. Then, just as quickly, the shadows returned to a state of stillness, and the protective barrier withered away, and a warm stench that filled the air wafted over me.
    When I opened my eyes and looked up, the four GDI agents lay wounded—if not dead—at Carmichael’s feet; their blood saturated the rusty beige carpet and Federation emblem. The Enforcers in hiding behind me were, in effect, neutralized. The horrific look on Carmichael’s face brought a strange sense of satisfaction to me, much greater than what could have been expected from him being no longer.
    â€œThis is why you are a threat,” he said.
    My breathing was heavy.
    â€œYou win.”
    I finally understood their fear.
    â€œWhat will you do now? I doubt very much you have the strength to kill me.”
    Slow to rise from the seat, with the onset of a dizzy spell, I stood with my legs apart to keep my balance. Marc came to mind, and I knew then he was right all along, as I looked at Carmichael and said, “There is a time for everything.”
    â€œWhat are you waiting for?” he said.
    â€œAnother time, Carmichael.” I turned my back to him.
    â€œWhere are you going? You’re weak and trapped.”
    I should have listened to Marc. How stupid of me.
    â€œI created you! I will see you destroyed!” he said as his words reverberated back and forth about the court.
    I continued up the main aisle to the glass doors. At least one bullet should have hit him. At least one. Before I reached the etched doors, I faded from the congressional hall.
    I did not go far, just to the roof. Activity in the heliport was minimal, but it would not be too long before they searched and secured the small-scale airport. I stood at the end of the landing platform, a meter from the edge of the building, looking over the placidity of Sapphire.
    What had I done? I was still amazed by what transpired; it was too much power. Class B humans could topple the Federation with ease, but we have chosen to hold ourselves back to bear out our humanity. Though, I for one could not compromise what we were, for it defined us as a people. Thus, that was the dilemma that divided Marc and me and others among us: our humanity versus our identity. Still, I knew now why Marc wanted me to promise not to avenge him, and realized in betraying him, and his memory, I played right into the mold that the Federation had set by which it labeled me and those of my kind, as it saw us—because of actions similar to what I had just demonstrated. What I had done was to perpetuate the fear and ignorance of the Federation.
    Enlightened by the chain of events, I stood with the manufactured gale of Sapphire blowing on my face. It felt good. Though the winds of Earth were better, the moving air flowed through me just the same, as I let it carry my thoughts elsewhere. Revitalizing. I lifted my arms from my sides and cupped my fingers, trying to capture the air, feeling it push against my hands, which in turn caused my arms to sway back. I lifted my chin so that my hair danced in the flow. It felt so good.
    â€œYou should have gone farther than this!”
    My arms dropped as I