The Black Knight Box Set

by Christian J Gilliland

  "You have such beautiful skin," she commented as she gestured toward the shower, "so dark and exotic. I look forward to seeing it clean!"

  "Thanks, I guess," Ema'as said as she stepped into the shower.

  The water felt hot on her body, and she watched as the floor beneath her turned brown with filth. She had never before experienced a shower, and while she found it delightful and refreshing, she was somewhat troubled by the whole thing.

  For a Marauder living in the Canruusi Wastes, water was something of a commodity. They had learned to ration and preserve what water they found; most tribes even used it as currency. Ema'as watched as the water disappeared down a hole in the floor and it felt like she was wasting valuable resources.

  "Where does it come from?" She asked as she splashed her face, "The water?"

  "We have a reservoir and water treatment facility onboard," Asandra replied, "300 feet long, fifty feet wide and ten feet deep. The water we recycle here is the same that was brought with the Humaans from their homeworld so long ago. At least that’s what Sayid told me.”

  Ema’as let the water fall through her tangled mess of silky black hair. As the blood and grime rinsed out, she realized that her mane had grown quite long since her last haircut, for the tips stretched down and rested on her shoulders. Asandra reached in and combed through it with her fingers, humming a song as she did so.

  “Such beautiful hair you have,” She commented, “‘Tis a shame what you have done to it!”

  “Thank you,” Ema’as smiled. As she looked over to Asandra, she noticed Daanel standing with Sayid in the doorway. She let out a surprised shriek, and Asandra immediately spun around.

  “Lord Daanel!” She announced gleefully. She dried her hands on a towel and stepped up to him with arms outstretched, “So lovely to see you again!” She leaned in and kissed each of Daanel’s cheeks, and he smiled in response.

  “Wait, who is that with you?” Ema’as heard Asandra exclaim, “By Igo, is that Lady Amaria!”

  Ema’as listened as Asandra squealed with joy and turned her head to see if she could see what was going on. She saw that Daanel had a baby in his arms, but could not see in the room behind him. As she gave her body one final rinse, she stepped out of the shower, and Dannel looked her up and down.

  “Not bad,” He flashed his pearly white smile, and Ema’as rolled her eyes. She grabbed one of the white towels and began to dry the water off her body, and as she wrapped the towel around her torso, she stepped up to her master.

  “What is going on?” She asked as she tried to look past him. He was too tall for her to see anything, and she found herself instead staring at the baby, “What is that?”

  “This is a baby. His name is Roc, and he is apparently my little brother,” Daanel answered, “There was a slight deviation from today’s plans, though nothing that will prevent you from meeting with the tribe.”

  “Your brother?” Ema’as repeated as she looked down at the child’s face. He stared up at her with a bashful smile, and Ema’as snorted, “How do you have a brother this young?”

  “My family life is… complicated,” Daanel explained. He flicked the air with his hand as if to brush away the idea and shook his head, “And not for you to worry about. Get dressed; we need to deliver these babies to their family.”

  “How far away is that?” Ema’as asked, a bit apprehensive about doing any more traveling.

  “A few floors down,” Daanel smirked, “Do as I say.” He slid the door shut and left Ema’as alone in the bathroom.

  “Wow,” She exclaimed as she turned and looked at herself in the mirror to the left. She felt like she was looking at a new person. Her hair was no longer matted, and the filth from her body had washed away. She reached up and played with her hair for a moment, and then the door opened, and Sayid stepped inside.

  “Miss Ema’as, I do hope I am not intruding, but Miss Asandra instructed me to assist you.”

  “Assist me?” Ema’as asked, surprised by the Cy’s sudden appearance, “How?”

  “We want to make certain that you are presented to the tribe looking your best,” Sayid explained in his hollow sounding voice, “I will be applying your makeup and styling your hair. Please sit and hold still.”

  “Is that what you robots do?” Ema’as asked as she sat, surprised that he was going to be the one to doll her up.

  “Miss Asandra taught me,” Sayid said as he knelt on one knee. The sphere in his triangular face glowed blue for a moment and seemed to scan Ema’as as the spherical caretaker robot had done earlier. Once he finished with that, he reached out and pressed his hand onto a port on the wall. The mirror suddenly began to flash various images rapidly and then stopped. A small tray ejected from the bottom of the mirror and Sayid released his hand from the port on the wall and reached inside.

  “King Graham will be most pleased with your appearance,” Sayid declared as he pulled a brush from the tray. As he dabbed the brush on her face, he held his free hand up to her head. A hole appeared in his palm, and a rush of hot air blew out. He slowly circled her head with his hand, working quickly to complete his task.

  “Do you have any tips?” Ema’as asked.

  “I have multiple tips,” Sayid replied. The sphere in the middle of his head glowed yellow and a smiling face displayed as he spoke again, “One on each of my fingers. Ha. Ha. Ha.”

  Ema’as laughed. Not at all because she believed Sayid’s joke was funny, but at the thought of a machine making a joke in the first place.

  “All joking aside,” Sayid continued, “King Graham is very old but appreciates class. He knows when somebody is trying to mislead him, so do not lie to him.”

  Sayid leaned back, and an image of a thumbs up appeared on his sphere, “You are looking wonderful, Miss Ema’as.” He stepped back, making room for her and she stood and turned toward the mirror.

  “Oh wow,” She exclaimed as she examined her face, “Is that me?”

  “Your eyes are large and lovely,” Sayid replied, “I lined them with eyeliner and thickened your eyelashes. Your cheekbones are naturally appealing, and I accentuated the contouring of your face. Fortunately for you, unlike flat faced Miss Asandra, you do not require much makeup.”

  Ema’as reached out and grabbed the tunic and pants that Asandra had hung on the wall for her. She quickly threw them on and tied the sash around her waist. When she was satisfied, she stepped toward the door and into the room where the others waited. As she appeared, they turned toward her and Asandra stepped forward with a wide smile.

  “Look at you!” she gushed as Ema’as came into view, “By Igo, I do not believe I have ever seen anything so precious!”

  “Precious?” Ema’as repeated. She felt a bit underwhelmed and perhaps slighted by Asandra’s response but smiled anyway, “Thanks, I guess.”

  “Beautiful,” Daanel beamed at her, “You will make it difficult for Graham to say no for the most beautiful are always the most dangerous.” He looked back at his mother, who rolled her eyes and shooed him with a flick of her wrist.

  “Speaking of which,” Daanel glanced back at Ema’as, “This is my mother, Amaria. It seems she is ready to return to our tribe, to some degree at least.”

  Ema’as looked back at the pale-skinned short platinum-haired beauty behind Daanel and raised her eyebrows.

  “That is your mother?” Ema’as asked with a surprised tone, “She doesn’t look any older than you.”

  “Tis true,” Daanel laughed as he stepped forward, “I turned her many years ago, rejuvenated her old body in doing so. She does not appear a day over thirty, does she?”

  “Maybe younger,” Ema’as replied. Amaria smiled wide and pushed her way past Daanel.

  “Thank you, honey,” she smiled as she approached, “I would hug you but, well you see I am a bit tied up right now. But if you keep the compliments coming, you and I should get along just fine.”

  Amaria had a baby in each of her hands, one looked brand new, and the other looked a
month or two old. They were, of course, Eliss, Sarasin’s newborn, and Alma; Commander Crinnan and Ladia’s youngest child.

  “Do not get too attached, mother,” Daanel cautioned as he placed Roc into Asandra’s arms and reached for Alma, “Graham has not yet approved her.” Amaria looked Ema’as up and down and smiled.

  “He will,” Amaria confidently said. Ema’as beamed a hopeful smile, and Daanel rolled his eyes and walked to the door.

  “Come,” he beckoned everyone, “Let us get these children to their caretakers. They are not far.” At that, the door slid open, and everyone stepped out onto the walkway.

  Ema’as could not help but marvel once again at the sheer magnitude of the ship. She watched as the caretaker bots floated from place to place, and looked over the side rails at the village in the grass below.

  Daanel led the group down the walkway toward the elevator, Sayid spoke as they walked.

  "Miss Amaria, I do hope you have been well. It has been quite some time since I last laid eyes on you. Or rather, laid eye."

  "Oh, you and your jokes," Amaria chuckled as they walked, "I have been well Sayid, thank you."

  "Pray tell, did you birth all of these children?" He asked as his spherical eye moved from baby to baby.

  "I most certainly did not," she laughed as she shook her head in response, "Only the boy that Miss Asandra is holding. His name is Roc."

  "Roc?" Sayid repeated, "I hope for your sake that he is not too hard-headed. Ha. Ha. Ha. If he shows signs of weakness, you may encourage him to be bolder."

  "Okay Sayid," Amaria rolled her eyes at the Cy, "That is probably enough."

  "Ask, and I shall comply," Sayid replied. His eye changed to an image of a yellow smiling face, and everyone groaned.

  “Does he always do this?” Ema’as asked as their group approached an elevator, “The puns. Is that… his thing?”

  “Yes,” Asandra glanced back at her with an embarrassed grimace, “and I better not catch you encouraging him. It is hard enough to shut him up as it is; that was why I had him locked in the closet.”

  “It was truly a lovely feeling, coming out…” a winking face appeared in his eye as he turned to Ema’as.

  “Sayid!” Asandra snapped at the Cy, “Enough!”

  “As you wish, madam,” When she turned back around, he held his thumbs to the sides of his heads and wiggled his fingers at her. Ema’as smiled in response, and his eye showed an image of a face with its tongue sticking out.

  As the door to the elevator shut behind them, Daanel pressed a button, and they began to descend. The ride was a short one, for as he had previously said, they were only going a few floors. They came to a stop, and Daanel turned to Ema’as.

  “Keep quiet when we speak to the Humaans,” he instructed with an outstretched finger pointed her way, “This conversation may get… complicated.” Ema’as shrugged her shoulders, and as the doors opened, they all walked outside.

  “Housing level C-38,” Sayid announced as they stepped onto a walkway that was identical to the one they had come from, “Home to the only remaining descendants of the original Humaan voyagers.”

  Daanel led them down the walkway, passing by a few Humaan people as he did so. He nodded and smiled to each of them; they all returned his greeting. None of them seemed bothered by their presence, they all just went about their lives as usual.

  “So they have been here since the Humaans landed?” Ema’as whispered to Sayid. The Cy turned his head toward her and gave it a shake, an image of a thumbs down appeared on his eye.

  “They have been here since the Humaans left,” He corrected her, “Nine hundred eighty-seven years, thirty-two generations. We have all been here: my brothers, my cousins, my masters and me.”

  “And the Vampre, they arrived forty years ago?” Ema’as asked.

  “Indeed, Miss Ema’as,” his eye turned to a thumbs up sign, “King Graham arrived forty-two years ago. He discovered the Silis and found that the Humaans inside were in the middle of a centuries-old conflict. With his help, he assisted Captain Jamiso in bringing peace to the ship. When that was done, he was hailed a hero, and the Humaan people made him their new captain, retiring the Jamiso family from its nearly ten centuries of leadership.”

  “What about the brother and sister that escaped, did Graham help them?”

  “Little Crinnan and his sister Sayraa… I remember them well! Crinnan’s imagination was too large to be contained even by this ship; his little sister was at his side everywhere he went. They were the ones to find Graham and restore peace to this ship.”

  At the mentioning of Crinnan’s name, Amaria briefly glanced back at the Cy. He noticed that he had gotten her attention and three question marks flashed across his eye indicating that he needed more input. She shook her head and looked forward just as Daanel stopped in front of one of the seemingly infinite numbers of doors. He turned toward Amaria and gestured forward.

  “The Jamiso residence,” he reached out and gently rapped on the door, “Hopefully, you will find what you are looking for here Mother.” Amaria nodded her head and waited. She could hear movement behind the door, and after a few brief moments, it finally slid open.

  A chubby Humaan who stood as tall as Commander Crinnan appeared in the frame. His thin hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and he had streaks of silver on the sides of his head. He immediately looked at Daanel and smiled, but paused as he noticed the rest of the group.

  “Master Daanel,” he exclaimed with a concerned tone, “We were not expecting company…”

  “Do not worry Rodrick,” Daanel assured him with a soothing tone, “We come with good news, are your mother and father home?”

  “Of course,” he beckoned them inside and stepped out of their way, “Mom and Dad are in the living room glued to the television as always.”

  “Thank you, Rodrick,” Daanel nodded at him as he stepped inside, the others followed closely behind.

  “Good morrow Mister Rodrick!” Sayid heaved as he walked by, “I hope you are well!”

  The inside was larger than Ema’as expected. Asandra’s home had only been a studio apartment, but the Jamiso residence was many times that size. Directly in front of her was a staircase that led up to a second floor and a hallway with at least three doors was immediately to the left of the stairs. A large open room with sofas and a wall-sized viewing screen were to her right. She heard the sounds of people talking, of children screaming with laughter from somewhere in the home.

  Daanel guided them to their right and into the room with the sofas and the television. Two old Humaans sat in recliners that were facing the large screen. One, a male, was broad-shouldered and a bit lumpy. His mouth hung open, and he appeared to be asleep. He looked to have been at least eighty years old with thin grey hair and jowls that hung down past his jaw. He wore a flannel button-down shirt that was tucked into a pair of light blue pants and had leather boots on his feet. A string tie was tucked under his collar and hung down on his chest.

  The other, a female, had white curly hair and a pair of glasses over her eyes. She wore a baby blue colored blouse and white pants, a pair of thin socks covered her feet. She had a smile on her face for no apparent reason and turned to look at the others as they entered.

  “My oh my!” She exclaimed as she looked at her visitors. Her voice was sweet and aged, “I wasn’t expecting company. Oh, the house is a mess! Wake up, Johnny!”

  The old man groaned something, and his face curled up in a grimace, but he did not wake up. The old woman sighed and lowered the footrest on her recliner, standing as she did so.

  “Who do we have here?” The woman gushed as she walked up to the group. Her eyes were on the babies, and she wore a smile as wide as the horizon.

  “Look at you darlings, oh my I’ve never seen something so adorable," She looked up at Amaria and wrinkled up her face. After a moment, her mouth dropped open, and her eyes went wide.

  “Well, I’ll be!” She declared with a happy tone, “Amaria! Jo
hnny, it’s my old friend Amaria!”

  “Hello, Lucille,” Amaria’s smile matched Lucille’s and she stepped into the old woman’s arms, “It is truly lovely to see you again.”

  “You’ve come back to us!” Lucille squealed as she hugged Amaria and the babies in her arms tight, “And you’ve brought…” She turned to the old man and shouted at him.

  “Johnny Jamiso wake your lazy butt up!”

  Johnny snapped awake and sat up straight in his chair. He looked around, a bit confused for a moment and shook his head quickly when he saw Amaria.

  “Is that ol’ Amaria?” he asked as he stood to his feet. His back and knees popped, and he groaned a bit as he hobbled over.

  “Amaria, Amaria!” He sang gleefully as he walked over. Lucille stepped back, and he hugged the Vampress tight.

  “What in the world are you doing here?” He asked with a smile, “I thought we’d never see your pretty face again!”

  “It is wonderful seeing you two,” Amaria said as she looked down at the tops of the babies’ heads, “I have… something for you.”

  “Something for us?” Johnny raised his head as he looked at her down the bridge of his nose, “What did you bring us?”

  “Well,” Amaria did not know how to break it to them, “You see…” She sighed and tried to clear her head, “These babies… well, they are your great-grandchildren.”

  Johnny looked over at Lucille, and they both made the same confused expression as their heads turned back toward Amaria.

  “Great… grandchildren?” Johnny slowly repeated as he looked down at the babies, “As in…”

  “As in… they are Crinnan’s child and grandchildren.”

  “C… Crinnan? My Crinnan?” Lucille removed her glasses and dabbed her eye with a tissue that she had pulled from her pocket. She had not seen her son for four decades, and the thought of him brought tears to her eyes, “You mean…”

  “You’re saying our boy is alive?” Johnny stood up a little taller, and his eyes seemed to glimmer. He reached for his wife and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into him.