by JN Chaney
Hux emerged, splashing water onto the side of the boat. He waved at the crew, and they cheered, lowering a rope ladder to lift him up. As he reached the deck, Hux swung his legs around, bringing a pool of saltwater with him.
Beneath his arm, Hux carried a small wooden box. Strands of seaweed had gotten stuck in the cracks, and Terry wondered how far below the surface the treasure had been waiting.
“I’ll be in my quarters,” announced the captain of the Waveguard. He motioned to Terry and Ludo. “Join me shortly, friends. I need to change out of these clothes first.”
When Hux was out of sight, Terry looked at Ludo. “What do you think is in the box?”
“Perhaps some form of contraband,” said Ludo.
“Contraband?” asked Terry. “You think he’s smuggling illegal materials?”
“Wavemasters do not believe in laws,” said Ludo. “If they did, we might not be aboard this ship.”
Indeed, Hux had allowed the two of them to hide aboard his boat, defying the law in the process. He’d barely given it a second thought, in fact, taking them largely at their word. Anyone else might have turned them away, but not Hux. Not this wavemaster.
So, maybe he was more than a simple sailor. Maybe he was a smuggler, too. Did it really matter? Terry would choose to believe in his new friend, because it was preferable to the alternative. Everyone deserved the benefit of the doubt.
******
Terry and Ludo joined Hux in his cabin before long, gladly accepting his invitation. The wavemaster, now with a fresh change of clothes, took his seat and stretched out his legs and arms. He poured himself a drink immediately, and offered one to each of them. Both declined. Hux laughed, taking a sip from his fat wooden cup.
The box from the sea sat on the table beside him, and he smacked the top of it with a loud thud. “Has my crew told you what this is yet?” he asked, grinning. “I hope not.”
“Not a word,” said Terry.
Hux smacked the box again. “Good! Look here, friends.” He reached a hand in his pocket and retrieved a metal key. It was shiny and fine, as though it had recently been polished. He twirled the key between his fingers, and then jammed it into the keyhole. As it turned, Terry heard a series of hard clicks. They continued for longer than he expected.
Hux cracked the box open, pulling back the top. He felt inside the chest with both his hands. “Here we are,” he said, a little awe in his voice, lifting up the object. A metallic orb, by the look of it, smooth and seemingly untouched.
“What is that?” asked Ludo.
“They call them the God Eyes,” said Hux.
“What are they for?” asked Terry.
“I wish I knew,” said Hux, chuckling. “All I know is they’re worth a hefty sum of money. Enough to keep my ship afloat for years and years to come.”
“People pay money for that?” asked Terry. “Is it some kind of stone?”
Hux shook his head. “This is from Everlasting.”
Both Ludo and Terry leaned in.
“The rumors say there are only twelve of these left in all the great wide world, but I’ve only seen two, counting this one.” Hux twisted the orb in his hands, revealing as much of it as possible.
“This really came from Everlasting?” asked Terry.
“So goes the tale,” said Hux.
“Why would anyone give a fortune away for something like this? You don’t even know what it does,” said Terry.
“My buyer believes this to hold great power. He pays me whatever I ask for any Everlasting artifacts, so I’ve contacted several merchants and explorers and told them to keep their eyes open for such things.”
“So much work for such a small thing,” said Ludo.
“Indeed,” agreed Hux. “Truth be told, I don’t believe it to be anything more than a simple ornament, but some men would move mountains for an ounce of opportunity. A shred of prospect. They are hungry, driven by an overwhelming desire to collect and consume. To have everything. They build whole empires, but even then, it is never enough. The need for more is always there, scratching at the back of their mind. I’ve traveled much of the globe, and believe me when I tell you there are always powerful people seeking powerful things. There is always greed.”
“If you don’t believe in this thing, why did you go looking for it?” asked Terry.
Hux grinned. “I don’t have to believe in fairytales in order to profit off of them.”
“You don’t think Everlasting is real?” asked Terry.
“I do,” Hux corrected. “I’ve seen the city’s towers myself, riding my ship off the rocky cliffs of the eastern shore. What I doubt are rumors. Rumors by men who have never had to go and look with their own eyes. You will find there are two types of people in this world, Little Traveler: those who sit and wait, and those who go and see. The man in the golden chair will be fatter and safer, more ready to believe what he is told, but the one who leaves will find and know the truth, and he will come back changed. I would rather search the world for my own truth than be told what to believe by another.”
Terry stared at the orb, not knowing what to say. Hux seemed to notice, and held the object out to him, offering it. “I can’t,” said Terry, shaking his head.
“Hold it,” said Hux. “See with your own eyes. Touch with your hands. Experience this moment. Life is too short to look away.”
“What if I break it?” asked Terry. “I might drop it. Aren’t you worried?”
“The fact you asked the question tells me you won’t,” said Hux. “I believe you’ll treat this as though it were a babe. Am I right?”
Terry nodded.
“I thought so.”
******
Bravo Gate Point
February 11, 2351
A few hours of dialogue with the aliens had proven very useful, albeit a little frustrating. For starters, they refused to provide any detailed information about their home—the mysterious city of Everlasting. However, now that everyone was playing nice, Titus seemed open to the idea of introducing John and the others to his superiors.
Diplomatic relations were beginning to look like a real possibility. Sometime or another. John wasn’t entirely sure. Titus kept reiterating how his team would have to return to Everlasting soon. This deadline could not be avoided—a strange notion, since encountering another sentient species seemed like it should be enough to warrant some sort of extended stay.
John just chalked it up to a cultural thing. Maybe their society prided itself on protocol. Maybe they had prior experience with aliens and had specific guidelines for dealing with them. He had no idea.
After going to the ship to radio his people about the situation, Titus returned and expressed a desire to leave behind one of his team members. “Lena Sol will stay here until we return. She is experienced with linguistics. Please help her learn your language.”
“You expect us to teach her English by the time you get back?” asked John.
“It shouldn’t take long,” Lena said.
“As long as Sergeant Finn doesn’t mind,” said Mei.
“She’ll have to stay in certain areas,” said John, examining the woman. She was small, even in her environment suit. Not very intimidating, but he knew well enough not to judge a person based on their size. “You get it, right?”
“I’m afraid Sergeant Finn is correct,” said Mei.
“An understandable precaution. Your terms should be acceptable. She only needs to learn the language,” said Titus. “It won’t take long.”
John stared at Lena curiously. How could learning an entire language not take long? Maybe their sense of time was different. It was one thing for a machine—her translation software—to figure out a way to communicate in a short amount of time. Machines could do that sort of thing. Not people, though. Not even close.
Titus and Emile boarded the aircraft, leaving Lena behind. John watched them leave with some interest, mostly to gauge the maneuverability of their transport. It lifted into the air with
little resistance, hovering with an unusually quiet engine, and then quickly accelerated forward, speeding into the distant horizon, back to the mountains.
When it was finally out of sight, John looked at Mei. “Well, this is interesting.”
“I should think so,” she said.
“Guess we’ll have to let Central know about it.”
“I’ll make a call. They might want to send an actual ambassador, but we’ll see. I might have a way to keep them away from this.”
“You’ve got that kind of pull now?” he asked.
“I’m not sure what I’ve got just yet,” said Mei. “But I’ll keep you informed.”
CHAPTER 8
Ortego Outpost File Logs
Play Audio File 908
Recorded: February 11, 2351
CURIE: Sophie, I need you to contact the office of Breslin Harper. I’m sending you a report and I need you to forward it to her.
MITCHELL: Of course, ma’am. Shall I add anything to it? A note, perhaps?
CURIE: Tell her I’ll be contacting her as soon as I return through the gate.
MITCHELL: When will that be?
CURIE: In a few days. I have some things to do first.
MITCHELL: Understood. I’ll make the necessary arrangements. Are you enjoying your trip? How are the aliens?
CURIE: Mysterious. Annoying. They don’t like questions, I’ve noticed. I spent over an hour trying to get information out of them about this Everlasting place, but it was mostly fruitless. The ship left a few hours ago and headed home. There’s only one of them now. A girl named Lena Sol.
MITCHELL: For what purpose? An ambassador?
CURIE: I’m still not sure. Titus mentioned something about her specializing in linguistics. It seems they want her to learn as much from us as possible.
MITCHELL: Do you suspect she’ll try to spy on you?
CURIE: Maybe. John and I have agreed to keep her isolated to a single building. She’s not to leave unless accompanied by a soldier.
MITCHELL: You’re so trusting, ma’am.
CURIE: When someone refuses to tell you anything about themselves, it’s hard to put any faith in them. For all we know, these people could be xenophobic cannibals.
MITCHELL: Technologically advanced alien cannibals. I believe I saw that in an old television show once.
CURIE: A show?
MITCHELL: Zeta Bounty Hunters X. It was an old pulp science fiction program. I’m sure you wouldn’t like it.
CURIE: No, I probably wouldn’t. John might, though. You should talk to him. I never knew you were into that sort of thing.
MITCHELL: We all have our vices, ma’am. Mine just happens to be hastily made, low-budget entertainment.
CURIE: And here I thought you were boring.
End Audio File
Somewhere in Kant
February 12, 2351
“Ready yourselves, men,” roared Hux as the waves beat against the side of the ship, knocking them about. A storm had struck, and its wrath was fierce and powerful.
Terry sat with Ludo in the belly of the boat, gripping the side of his bed as the whole world shook around him. Rain poured outside, filling the room with noise. He hated sitting still while others worked. It made him feel so helpless. “We should go see if they need help,” he shouted, trying to speak over the downpour.
“Stay and wait,” said Ludo. “We would only hinder them.”
“But they might be able to use our help,” said Terry, standing up.
The boat shook, and he wavered. When the storm had first appeared early this morning, neither of the suns had risen yet. The crew only had an hour to prepare for it, so they hoisted another set of sails, which they called storm sails, and attempted to outrun the chaos behind them. When they could run no further, Hux ordered the ship to stop and heave to, facing the wind and readying it for a full-on collision.
Terry quickly put his hand on the wall to steady himself. “This is crazy!”
“These storms are notoriously violent,” Ludo remarked. He was strangely calm, given the circumstances.
“It makes me wish we’d walked there,” said Terry.
“You should sit. The tide is unstable.”
Terry nodded and took his seat again. “The storm’s been going for hours. How long until it’s over?”
“I do not know. I’ve never been in one, but the sailors say they can last days.”
Days? Terry didn’t know if he could make it that long. All the banging around was already too much for him.
“Easy!” yelled Hux. “Keep the cargo down! Don’t let the wind grab anything!”
“They need to get inside before it gets any worse,” said Terry.
“Hux said they would as soon as possible,” said Ludo. “Try to relax, my friend.”
Lightning cackled from outside. “Careful there! Don’t you dare go falling overboard!” shouted Hux.
“Dammit, they need help,” snapped Terry, getting up and going to the door. The ship rattled and he nearly fell.
“Please, you must stay here,” Ludo pleaded.
But Terry wouldn’t hear it. He left the room and traveled quickly down the hall toward the deck. He gripped the handle and pushed, but was shocked at the weight of it. Could it be the strength of the wind? He would find out soon.
Terry focused and breathed, and with a mighty surge, pushed open the door. It cracked slowly, but almost immediately left his hand as the wind took hold of it, slamming it against the side of the wall. A shower of rain blew into him, stinging his face.
Looking out across the deck, he could see the crew drenched in rain and working. Nearly all of them were holding onto something, using their free hand to ready the ship and its cargo. Hux was among them, holding a rope in place. He shouted an order to a crewman by the name of Sederin, telling him to hurry up.
Sederin was new, having only recently been recruited back in Capeside. He had some prior experience on the water, but nothing more than a few voyages to the neighboring harbors. As far as Terry was aware, this might very well have been his first encounter with a storm. Sederin gave a signal in response to Hux’s order, raising his hand to acknowledge the command. In doing so, however, he lost his grip. The wind tugged at him, and he slipped on the deck, which had been covered in several inches of water. Sederin slid to the rear, tumbling into a nearby crate. This caused the rope holding the cargo to come undone, letting them all go free. The boxes plowed into him, pushing him further back, and finally over the edge of the deck. He screamed as he fell hard and fast into the water below.
“Man overboard!” shouted one of the crew.
“Throw the lifeline!” ordered Hux. “Lock the cargo down and get inside!”
“We can’t just leave him!”
Hux ran to the edge of the deck. “Don’t worry,” he yelled. “I’ll get him back!” Hux dove headfirst into the roaring sea, plummeting into the waves. Terry watched from the cabin door, waiting for the rest of the crew to do something. They only continued their work, though, acting as their captain had ordered.
A few minutes later, as Terry quieted his mind and listened, he heard what sounded like sobbing in the distance, along with a series of gasps. “Hold onto me,” Hux commanded.
The other man attempted to answer, but could only give a whimpering slur in response.
Terry watched as a single arm came over the edge of the railing, followed by another. The wavemaster, drenched from the sea and carrying his crewman, brought himself onto the deck with incredible ease. Sederin’s arms were wrapped around Hux’s neck, keeping him in place. Hux carried him further toward the cabin, calling on the crew to take the man inside. Two of them brought Sederin to the cabin door, passing Terry and taking him to a bed.
Hux approached, a victorious look on his face. “Ah, Little Traveler!” he cackled. “What brings you to the storm?”
“I came to see if you needed any help,” he answered.
“I appreciate the thought, but there’s no need
to worry.”
“But someone almost died,” said Terry.
“You mean that?” he asked, pointing to where Sederin had fallen in. “It wouldn’t be a storm if someone didn’t fall!” He let out a hearty laugh. “This is how the sea turns children into men, Little Traveler.” Lightning cracked the sky, and thunder bellowed so loud it hurt. Hux grinned and beat his chest. “These are the days I live for!”
******
Bravo Gate Point
February 12, 2351
Lena Sol sat in the CHU with her hands in her lap, listening intently to the strangers talk amongst themselves. She kept the translator program active, letting it display their speech in the corner of her visor as she attempted to memorize and decipher as much of their language as she possibly could. So far, her new vocabulary had expanded to nearly a hundred words. Not bad considering it had only been about half a day, a portion of which she’d slept through. With any luck, she’d have enough of the language by the end of the day to go home.
“Don’t you ever take that suit off?” asked Mason Hughes.
Lena looked up at him from her seat. He stood there, a curious look on his face, towering over her. “My suit?” she asked.
“You can breathe the air, can’t you? You’ve had that thing on since you got here.”
“It is easier,” she responded.
“Easier how?” he asked.
She turned the translator’s voice on, knowing she wouldn’t be fully able to express her thoughts if she continued without it. “I have to wear a device on my mouth. It’s very uncomfortable. The suit also protects from any radiation or hazardous disease. Please, take no offense, but you could be carrying a deadly pathogen. Until Titus returns with a medical expert, it is safer for me to remain in this suit.” She bowed her head. “I mean no offense.”
“None taken,” he said, casually. “Just wanted to make sure you were comfortable.”
“I am. Thank you.”
“Doesn’t it make it hard to eat or, you know, use the bathroom?” asked Alicia Short, another soldier.
