Vahn and the Bold Extraction, The

by Mason, Shane A.

  ‘And for what? For what? Explain the logic behind killing the weak.’

  Gregand broke down and cried.

  Melaleuca felt an urge to kick him over.

  ‘As I thought. Your strength is a hollow shell of weakness. Go if you want, but I think the others will spurn you and believe little of what you say.’

  She turned from him, leaving him crying as the others gawked at him. Lexington patted him on his back, a gesture he shrugged off, so she joined the others.

  Bleph’s mother came forward and said to Melaleuca, ‘I am Ineer and this is Swarth, my mate. We knew you would come. We knew Karena would never let us down.’

  ‘I ─ ’ Melaleuca started to say.

  ‘Say little. You have a task to complete. We will do all we can to look after the children, and stop anyone leaving.’

  They both had heavy lined expressions, and spoke from years of suffering, though hope shone out of their faces like she had never seen before.

  ‘Thank you,’ Melaleuca said humbled by their words.

  Lexington had questions she wanted to ask them.

  ‘Did you know ─ ’

  Melaleuca held her hand up to Lexington, emotions in check, and focusing as a commander, said, ‘After, Lex, after. Time to leave.’

  Once out of earshot, Melaleuca turned to Ari and Quixote.

  ‘Go home, get the chameleon poncho and whatever else you need. Follow Jerkin until you find out what his secret is. Lex and I will make up some story about you being beaten up or in detention. Go.’

  Quixote whipped the speed boots on and disappeared. Seconds later, with the strong man costume on he appeared, grabbed Ari and disappeared again.

  ***

  Jerkin Bod’armor stood in the Head Discipliner’s office, daunted by it. Ghosts of their glorious past seemed to hide in its dark recesses waiting to expose unknown weaknesses in him.

  Without looking up, Sah Task-Master Carrion asked, ‘Tell me Bod’armor, what is your preference, winning or eternal glory?’

  Suspicious, Jerkin thought he was trying to trap him.

  ‘Our way is the only way sir. Winning or eternal glory are nothing next to them.’ He stiffened like a soldier repeating a mantra.

  Sah Task-Master Carrion chuckled, looking up. ‘So well learned, so well trained.’

  He rose from his chair and hobbled through the shadows surrounding his desk, emerging into the dull light with his limp; dragging his gamy leg across the mosaic-etched floor. Little emotion crossed his face.

  ‘Do you know what I mean by winning versus eternal glory?’

  Jerkin nodded unsure.

  Sah Task-Master Carrion opened a cabinet, pulled a book out, and threw it onto a small table. ‘Pick it up and look at it. Tell me what it is.’

  Jerkin leafed his way through it.

  ‘It is a list of past winners of the Galelain, going back centuries.’

  His eye caught something about love and courage as being traits of a warrior.

  Sah Task-Master Carrion snatched it back. ‘Enough. Enough. Tell me. What of the past winners of the Galelains.’

  ‘What of them, sir?’

  ‘Exactly, What of them? Who were they? Do you remember their names?’

  Jerkin could recount a few of those spoken about in the Whispers.

  ‘More importantly, do you remember all their names?’ Sah Task-Master Carrion asked and then said, ‘No, of course not. Tell me the ones you do recall?’

  ‘KronForth,’ Jerkin Answered.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘He started the Galelain.’

  ‘Next.’

  ‘CrookSent.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘He introduced the High Galelain.’

  ‘Next.’

  ‘Jact-Rah.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘He defeated everyone despite his ship being sunk at the start.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And proved that a smart, disciplined mind is a strength unto itself.’

  ‘And tell me Master Bod’armor. Did these people win or attain eternal glory?’

  ‘If by eternal glory, you mean their names lived on, then eternal glory.’

  ‘Very good. Would you like your name to still be spoken of in centuries to come, or would you like to merely win.’

  Jerkin knew the right answer; it was the answer he wanted as well.

  ‘To live on.’

  ‘Good. Follow me.’

  They left and walked down to a waiting horse cart where they journeyed to a large building partially hidden by trees, at the edge of the Southern Hills. Inside a small team of men put the finishing touches on the most impressive floating ship he had ever seen. The ship looked new, not fashioned out of old gathered bits of wood. The sails rose high into the ceiling, and the railings and webbings gleamed with a pristine shine.

  ‘Sir, where did this come from?’ Jerkin asked.

  ‘What matters is the eternal glory waiting for you.’

  Jerkin walked around it ogling it, sniffing the air. ‘What is that smell?’

  ‘Paint and glue, I am told.’

  Dotted along the side, square gaps revealed narrow, metal tubes protruding out. They drew an intense stare from Jerkin.

  ‘Are those??’

  ‘Yesss?’

  ‘Are those guns?’ Jerkin asked in amazement.

  ‘Well done.’

  ‘They were banned over fifty years ago when they used them and the houses and everything else around got damaged.’ He said parroting the phrase that he had been forced to accept without thinking.

  ‘Jerkin Bod’armor,’ Sah Task-Master Carrion announced. ‘Annihilator of the outsiders, challenger of outmoded ideas, winner of the High Galelain, disqualified for breaking the rules, but a hero for his time and forever.’

  Jerkin wandered around the ship a few more times, boggling at the damage he could inflict on the other ships.

  In the corner, behind some boxes, Ari and Quixote sat still, hidden by their chameleon poncho, watching and listen. Having heard enough, they sped back to the Cathedral-Mansion to tell the others what they had found out.

  ***

  ‘How are we going to defeat a ship with guns, when we have none?’ Lexington asked her cousins, gathered in the costume room.

  Uncle Bear-Nard and Argus stood there silent; Uncle Bear-Nard having already re-explained the importance, once again, of the cousins working it out for themselves.

  ‘Ideas,’ Melaleuca said. ‘We consider them all, including yours Qui.’

  Quixote leapt up and down hooting.

  ‘Make our ship move real fast so the guns cannot hit us, and then gather the bits of smashed ships, make a real big shield and then use it to charge Jerky’s ship.’

  Ari laughed at Quixote’s boisterous idea, while Melaleuca considered it.

  ‘For that to work,’ Lexington said, ‘we would need to have a carpenter’s costume on board. We would need to work out a way to smuggle extra costumes onto the ship. And still how are we going to hide our faces?’

  ‘Masks,’ Quixote said. ‘Once on the water, we slap masks on.’

  Ari snapped his fingers.

  ‘What if we break into four boats and attack from four positions. We could get Con to make four small dinghies and that way Jerkin would not be able to target us all at once.’

  ‘Or create a diversion,’ Melaleuca said, ‘and then take over his ship.’

  Lexington flicked her long hair back.

  ‘His is not the only ship. If we only concentrate on him, then one of the others might get us. What weapons will we have?’ She looked upset at the thought of wielding a weapon. ‘I truly want people to remain unhurt.’

  ‘I will find out!’ Quixote said and VAMOOSH, disappeared.

  A rare smile of relish licked Melaleuca’s face.

  ‘Giant catapult. Shoot rocks and sink the others.’

  Lexington sauntered back and forth; an altogether odd expression enveloping her.

  ‘How a
bout fighting without fighting.’

  ‘How would that work?’ Ari asked.

  ‘Remember when we played the attack and pull-back game at home…..We retreat and draw them into us. Once following us then we can manoeuvre them to where we want.’

  ‘Well…yes…Lex.’ Ari sucked a breath in through clenched teeth. ‘But there are so many weapons here and cool costumes. There must be a way of using them and strategies, tactics and the like to outsmart them.’

  Lexington approached Uncle Bear-Nard.

  ‘How long does the competition go for?’

  ‘Until it is finished.’

  ‘What is the longest it has ever gone for? Come on, that must be common knowledge.’

  ‘I know one time it went on for weeks. Two ships had packed supplies of food and hung around trying to outsmart each other. The crowd were none too impressed. The hope is that it is over within a day. But still they impose no time limit on it.’

  Lexington looked chuffed; her idea seemed the right way to go.

  Quixote appeared again.

  ‘Weapons are bow and arrows, spears, sticks, catapults, slingshots, and um, swords. Con just told me.’

  ‘Please tell me you were not seen,’ Melaleuca said.

  ‘Of course not. Man, we have so many things here that could blatt everyone to pieces.’

  ‘Why not then just steal his gun?’ Lexington asked.

  ‘Let us see how brave he is when a Marauder attacks him.’ Melaleuca said, smirking.

  ‘We could board his ship, and perhaps just tie them up,’ Ari said.

  ‘Make balloons to float in the lake,’ Quixote said. ‘Then when he fires his guns, they will explode when they hit the balloons instead of our boat.’

  Lexington zusshed her arms around.

  ‘Can we make clouds or mist, fog or something? We could create confusion and then sneak up on the others.’

  ‘Heyyyy. What if we turned our ship into a submarine and attack them from below.’ Quixote liked this idea best.

  They threw idea after idea at each other, making them bigger and bolder; the boundaries of the impossible becoming steadily eroded by the endless possibilities. By the time they had painted their twentieth winning plan, Melaleuca held her arms up and cried out, ‘Enough! Okay everyone go and choose the costume they think best suits them for this. We will start there.’

  Ari soon stood there proud, wearing the Naval Captain’s uniform that Melaleuca had tried on before. Quixote snarled at everyone in his pirate outfit, and Lexington garbed herself in Chinese robes, the sort that belonged to a philosopher, puzzling Melaleuca.

  ‘Tell me Lexington, why this one?’

  ‘The side that wins is the one with the right philosophy. In fact why do we really need to enter at all? Why not just lose?’

  ‘Lose?’ Ari said surprised at her.

  ‘Win, lose, they are merely different edges of the same sword,’ she said, philosophically. ‘What does it matter? We will not die. Worst is us being sent to the Southern Wasteland, where the bracelets will afford great protection, and humble thoughts.’

  She bowed low to them all.

  Uncle Bear-Nard stepped forward.

  ‘Enter for fun, and to explore the boundless energies of the costumes. Don’t enter to win, or to lose. Enter to explore and experience; and winning will be the by-product. Enter to help those around see that your view is a better way. Do it having fun and no matter what the outcome you will win. Trust me. This is how it should happen.’

  Argus motioned to speak, but Uncle Bear-Nard grabbed his sleeve and tugged him away. ‘Myself and Argus will leave you to prepare.’

  Argus protested, though Uncle Bear-Nard pushed him through the door.

  ‘Right, let us begin,’ Melaleuca said.

  Chapter 35 - Let the Battle Commence

  Daquan poked the body of Doctor Thurgood as he lay sleeping with a chain around his leg.

  ‘Wake up.’

  Doctor Thurgood poked his head up. A large bandage wound its way around his neck and mouth. Daquan slowly removed the bandage.

  ‘Let us try again, shall we.’

  Relief spread across Doctor Thurgood’s face. His lips moved, uttering hoarse words.

  ‘Yessss,’ Daquan said putting his head closer. ‘Go on tell me.’

  In a small whisper, Doctor Thurgood managed to say, ‘Nap Retep.’

  ***

  Not finding him in all his normal places, Quesob started searching for Daquan.

  He approached the prison, hearing childish noises drifting out of the open door. Rushing in, he found Daquan lying on the floor writhing and kicking like a baby.

  ‘Lord Daquan,’ Quesob said, and waited though nothing happened. He uttered his master’s name again.

  ‘Daquan. Lord Daquan!!’

  Doctor Thurgood chuckled, choked, coughed, cleared his throat and then chuckled some more.

  Enraged, Quesob drew his sword out, and lowered it on Doctor Thurgood.

  ‘What have you done?’

  ‘F..f..f..fail...,’ the Doctor started. ‘Fail..s..safe. You need m..m..me.’

  Quesob grabbed him by his neck. ‘Say the word. Turn him back.’

  Doctor Thurgood gurgled a weak laugh.

  ‘If I should die now,’ he said in a faint whisper, ‘shall he stay a baby forever?’

  Angered, Quesob shook him.

  ‘Say the words.’

  Doctor Thurgood shivered and coughed, and Quesob could see he had become fragile, perhaps even near death.

  ‘Wait here.’

  He returned with a warm broth, a blanket and a pillow, and he comforted the Doctor. He handed him the broth. Gratefully Doctor Thurgood accepted it, sipping at the broth and enjoying the blanket.

  ‘Your master is a cruel man,’ Doctor Thurgood said feeling stronger.

  Quesob agreed.

  ‘It would be peaceful with him like this.’ Quesob sighed, the events of the last few months seemed to be catching up with him. ‘But for all this man’s gruffness, he will be a savior. Of this much he has told you little I expect.’

  He adjusted the Doctor’s pillow.

  ‘Once we have the bracelets, you may find he will have no more use for you. Never fear. For your services in helping us free the enslaved of New Wakefield, I swear to eternally protect you.’

  The dingy lit walls of the small room added a deep seriousness to his oath, the shadows and spiders playing witness to it.

  ‘Very well,’ Doctor Thurgood said. ‘(cough cough)...If you do not, then I will leave him as a baby.’ He coughed again. ‘There is another word I have programmed into him, that once said, cannot be unsaid. Urrrrhhhheeeem...’ He coughed, turned red and spat out a large globular mass of spit. ‘...and he will remain as a baby forever...and not even I will be able to undo it.’

  Quesob sprang to his feet.

  ‘You lie...You wouldn’t dare.’

  ‘Just assure me you will be good to your word.’

  ‘As it shall be,’ Quesob said, striking his chest in pledge.

  He released Doctor Thurgood from his chains and unbound his legs, and then watched as he stretched his scrawny body out.

  ‘Olly on garchi,’ the Doctor said.

  In an instant Daquan changed back, blinking his eyes and roaring with anger.

  ‘What is he doing untied?’

  ‘M’lord, he has sworn an oath to me, that if I should protect him, then he shall follow our bidding,’ Quesob said bending one knee. ‘If we treat him proper.’

  ‘You have my word,’ Doctor Thurgood said.

  ‘Quesob, follow me,’ Daquan said, ignoring the Doctor.

  In the corridor Quesob walked behind his tall master trying to keep up with him.

  ‘My lord I thought it prudent to win him rather than punish him. Should he have not spoken the words then you might have remained as baby forever.’

  They turned a corridor, stopping before a large window, a wistful look falling across Daquan’s face.

/>   ‘The time is close. I feel it. Soon the bracelets will be ours. I am convinced those outside children have it.’

  The news surprised Quesob.

  ‘How can you be sure?’

  ‘Having once worn the bracelet gives me a feel for this. Quesob, it is high time you knew. I am the kidnapper.’

  ‘You my lord, but ─ ’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But I thought you wanted the bracelets to protect the children not hurt them.’

  ‘I needed their youthfulness, their unblemished character to help open the secret vault in the southern wilderness.’

  ‘What secret vault?’ He did not like what he heard.

  Daquan roared at him. ‘Don’t you even know your own fables?’

  ‘Myths? You mean the fabled hidden treasure guarded by a beast?’

  ‘Yesss.’

  ‘That’s a kids’ story. It’s from the Whispers, made up.’

  ‘I found it! All my years wandering in that forsaken place, I found it. There is no beast though. Only the one every man carries inside him. But the inner reaches I cannot get to.’

  ‘But...but...’ Quesob stuttered. Children? Treasure? Wilderness? ‘We are supposed to be protecting them, not stealing them. Where are they?’

  ‘Like any war, the blood of the innocent must sometimes be shed for the greater good of all. These children will be martyrs, remembered long after all have been brought to justice.’

  For the first time Quesob felt the hand of doubt squeeze around his heart. After being found in the Wasteland, he had followed Daquan, survived the extremes of heat and cold, lived amongst the wild, untamed hordes of Ori, all in the name of freedom and liberating those left behind.

  ‘Come,’ Daquan said. ‘I have a plan, which will, once and for all, get us those bracelets back.’

  ***

  The dawn of the High Galelain broke over an excited New Wakefield. Not even in the memories of the Whispers could anyone recall outsiders being entered, nor pegged with a chance of winning.

  Arriving at the Vahn in Pembrooke’s horse drawn cart, the cousins ogled the hundreds of people crowding through the main gate, trying to herd themselves inside. A senior student spied them and dashed out to meet them.