by Jon Skovron
“Really? Biomancers are a bunch of cock-dribbles?” Red gave him a look of mock surprise.
“Yes, all right. I suppose this isn’t exactly surprising information. Listen, I find them just as annoying as anyone else.”
“Annoying? That’s it?” Red leaned forward and looked intently at his friend. “Do you really not know how bad it is out there?”
“Well, I…” Leston looked uncomfortable.
“My wag, they are out there slaughtering your people on a regular basis!”
Leston held up his hands placatingly. “I know that their experimentation at times puts a life at risk, but really, I think you might be exaggerating when you say they are ‘slaughtering’ my subjects.”
Red leaned back in his chair and stared at the prince. For the first time in a very long time, he was completely at a loss for words. The idea that Leston was this out of touch with the empire he lived in and would someday rule was almost too slippy for him to grasp. No wonder the world was such a mess.
He had the sudden impulse to lean across the table and slap some sense into the prince like Sadie had done to him any number of times. But instead, he took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. Sure, he would someday turn the biomancers’ training against them, and that was sunny for a long-term strategy. But this was something he could do right now. Red could be the voice of the people for Leston, so that when the prince ascended the throne one day, he might be the first emperor to actually understand something about the people he ruled over.
“Alright, my wag.” He kept his voice gentle. Compassionate. This wasn’t the time to point fingers or get Leston on the defensive. “Can I be completely crystal with you?”
“You know that you can,” said Leston. “There are few people whose opinion I care more about.”
“You don’t get out of Stonepeak much, do you?”
Leston looked a little embarrassed. “Honestly, before I met you, I didn’t even get out of the palace much. It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just…” He looked at Red helplessly.
“Listen, old pot. There’s no need to fall askew on me. I think I keen. We all assume someone with as much power and privilege as you can do anything you want. But you have your own set of rules to follow.”
Leston’s face lit up. “Yes, that’s it exactly!”
Red smiled. “But here’s where you can be better than any emperor before you. Because I’ll wager none of them ever had a proper wag of Paradise Circle as a friend who could tell them how things really are. Now, listen and I will tell you the story of Bleak Hope. And then you can tell me if I’m exaggerating about the biomancers.”
5
Bleak Hope stood at the helm of the Kraken Hunter. The ship was near its top speed and the surge of the ocean thrummed up from the rudder, through the wheel, and into her one good hand. The wind blew strong out of the southwest, carrying with it a hint of the frozen bite of her homelands as it brought her closer to her quarry. It also brought swirling gray clouds, which hung overhead, steely and aloof. She could see faint flickers of lightning to the south, where the clouds were darker.
Missing Finn turned to look at the storm brewing in the distance. “Do you think we’ll catch this biomancer before that storm catches us?”
“They had a two-day start, but the wind wasn’t so favorable then,” said Hope. “And the way the smith described the ship, it sounded like a cargo transport ship rather than a military vessel. With that many bodies and enough food and water to keep them alive, they’ll be sitting low in the water. I think we’ll overtake them by midday tomorrow.”
“I reckon the storm will hit us early tomorrow morning. Southern storms move slow, but they’re big and they’re cold. Sometimes they’ll even bring sleet as far north as Vance Post.”
“Won’t that be fun, then.” Hope patted his arm. “The helm is yours, Mr. Finn. I need to talk to Alash.”
She moved swiftly across the main deck and down below to the gun deck. Alash and Filler were preparing the cannons. Brigga Lin watched them from a nearby barrel, her long-fingered hands wrapped around a steaming mug. She drank enormous quantities of tea. It was a trait she shared with Alash, so Hope assumed it was more of a lacy custom than a biomancer custom.
“Sorry we couldn’t get your covers yet,” Hope said as she picked up a long stick with a sponge on the end and began working powder residue loose in one of the iron bores.
“At the risk of cursing myself,” said Alash, “one more time should still keep the probability of blowing my face off fairly low.”
“It’s a nice face, so let’s try not to lose it.” Hope rinsed her blackened sponge in a tub of seawater. “This really will be the last time, though. If we bring that smith’s daughter back to him, he swore to give us the run of his shop as often as we like.”
“The shop is quality,” said Filler as he checked the breech ropes and ringbolts that kept the cannons from flying across the gun deck every time they fired.
“We could do a lot with a dependable resource like that,” said Alash.
“Of course the intention is to rescue all the girls,” said Hope as she moved on to the next cannon. “Twenty or so, according to Grenly. And that’s assuming they hadn’t picked up others on a different island first. Any ideas how to go about it?”
“With all those kids aboard, we’ll need to be careful how we use the cannons,” said Filler.
“Let’s load them with chain and aim for the sails,” said Hope.
“Got it,” said Alash, opening a wooden crate filled with short lengths of thick iron chain.
“We can’t use my ghost ship or water mirage,” said Brigga Lin. “If there’s a biomancer on board, he’ll be able to see through such deceptions.”
Hope nodded. “Grenly didn’t see any cannon ports on the sides of the ship, so we don’t need to worry about broadsides. And there’s a storm coming up on our heels that should hit around the time we intercept. That might give us some cover.”
“It’ll also give them cover,” said Filler. “If the storm is bad enough, we might sail right past without seeing them.”
Brigga Lin sipped thoughtfully at her tea. “I should be able to track them.”
“How?” asked Alash.
“Biomancery is based on the manipulation of living matter. In order to perform it at a distance, I must be able to sense its activity. With so many living beings crammed into such a tight space on the surface of the ocean, where most living things are beneath the surface, I should be able to take a general bearing on the ship.”
“Wouldn’t the biomancer on their ship be able to do the same thing to us?” asked Filler.
“I doubt it,” she said. “Male biomancers practice the craft through touch, so he would not have developed the skill.”
“Captain…,” Alash asked Hope in that hesitant way he had whenever he was about to broach a request for one of his outlandish experiments. “You said a storm. Do you mean a thunderstorm?”
Brigga Lin looked sharply at him. “You don’t mean to try that idea.”
“What idea?” asked Hope.
“To harness lightning as a weapon,” Brigga Lin said dismissively. “But it’s purely theoretical. Far too dangerous and unpredictable for any practical application. Even if we could reliably capture lightning, there is no substance known that could store so much raw power. I assure you, it has been tried several times, always with disastrous results.”
“The original idea of storing the power, yes,” said Alash. “But what about a combat situation during an electrical storm. Then we simply need to redirect it. If we fixed an iron rod to the top of the foremast, and ran a chain from that rod to the enemy ship’s mast, the lightning would be drawn to our iron rod, and travel down the length of the chain. When it hit the wood of the enemy mast, it would combust into flames, most likely splitting the mast and taking a goodly portion of the ship with it.” He smiled expectantly at Hope.
She gazed levelly back at him. “And you
want to try this on a ship with twenty innocent little girls on board?”
“Oh, right.” Alash’s face fell. “Good point.”
Brigga Lin stifled a laugh.
“I promise you, Alash,” Hope said gently. “Someday we will attempt this mad experiment of yours. But not today.” She looked at them all. “Now is the time to eat and get some rest. Tomorrow will be a very long day.”
Alash and Filler nodded and headed for the galley.
Brigga Lin handed her mug to Alash on his way out, then turned to Hope. “You, too, Captain.”
“I will.” Hope climbed the narrow steps to the deck. “I want to check in with Nettles and Sadie first.”
“I’ll come along.” Brigga Lin followed behind her.
Hope looked back over her shoulder. “Don’t you trust me?”
“To look after yourself right before a battle? No, I don’t.”
They found Nettles on deck near the stern with Jilly. They were facing each other, each holding a knife.
“It’s sunny that Red taught you how to throw a knife,” Nettles was saying, “but what happens if you miss? You need to know how to use a knife in close quarters.”
“I never miss,” Jilly said airily.
“Everyone misses sometimes,” said Hope as she walked over to them.
Jilly’s attitude deflated when she saw Hope and Brigga Lin. In a slightly meeker tone, she asked, “Did Red ever miss?”
Hope and Nettles exchanged a glance. Then Nettles said, “Red had some… other advantages that the rest of us don’t have.”
“What advantages?” asked Jilly.
“I don’t think we need to go into it all right now,” said Hope.
“Why not?” asked Brigga Lin. “There’s no point in keeping the child ignorant.” She turned to Jilly. “Red is the result of one of the grandest biomancery experiments in the history of the empire.”
“I wouldn’t call it ‘grand’ exactly.” Nettles’s voice had an ominous tone.
“I only mean that the sheer scale and ambition of it was breathtaking,” said Brigga Lin. “Nothing of that scope has ever been attempted, before or since. And the fact that it was a success further suggests—”
“Hold on, did you say success?” Nettles’s eyes narrowed down to slits.
“Obviously there are variables that need to be addressed so that the results can be reliably replicated. Only then could it be considered a practical solution. But Red is living proof that the theory is sound. People can be enhanced dramatically while they are still developing in the womb.”
“I don’t give a cup of piss about your theories,” said Nettles. “Do you know how many people died because of that grand experiment? It spread through downtown New Laven like a plague.”
“But it wasn’t like a plague at all,” said Brigga Lin. “The council could have chosen to distribute it that way, but Progul Bon insisted that there be some element of choice. No one was forced to take that drug.”
“It’s so easy for you to say that.” Nettles stepped in close. Her head didn’t even reach Brigga Lin’s shoulder, but she glared up at her, undaunted. “You’ve never been starved and beaten and alone on the streets with no hope of it ever getting better. People are desperate for any little comfort they can get their hands on. Anything that will keep the black despair at bay a little longer. But you rich lacy types wouldn’t know a thing about that, would you?”
“I don’t mean to diminish the losses,” said Brigga Lin. “They were excessive. Grotesquely so. But you must understand what is at stake here. The empire has strong enemies who are only kept at bay by the ever-growing power of the biomancers. In order to maintain that growth, some level of sacrifice is necessary. Experimentation must take place in order to learn. And some degree of failure is inescapable. The art of biomancery—everything I know—is built on that.”
Nettles spit out the words, “Then your art is built on a mountain of the dead.”
Brigga Lin looked pleadingly at Hope. “Surely you understand what I’m trying to say.”
“I understand your explanation,” Hope said coolly. “But remember that my entire village was sacrificed in one of those experiments. I will never accept that such a loss was necessary.”
“Of course not,” Brigga Lin said quickly. “But—”
“You are more like Alash than perhaps you care to admit,” said Hope. “In your quest for knowledge, you lose sight of the most important thing. People.” It wasn’t so long ago that she had been just as caught up in her own ideology. Her obsession with vengeance had cost the lives of many that might otherwise have been spared. It had also cost her hand and had gotten Red captured. But she knew Brigga Lin would have to discover it on her own, as Hope did. So she only said, “As your friend, I hope that in time, you come to understand what Nettles and I are saying.”
She turned to Jilly, whose eyes were wide as she looked up at her. Was it confusion? Fear? Hope couldn’t quite tell. “As I said, I don’t think we need to go into it right now. You all need to eat and get some rest. We expect to intercept the biomancer tomorrow.”
Nettles nodded tersely and guided Jilly by the shoulders toward the galley.
Brigga Lin lingered, but her posture was uncharacteristically hesitant. “Hope…”
“I still need to talk with Sadie. You go ahead and rest up. Someone will wake you when it’s time for you to start tracking our quarry.”
Brigga Lin nodded, then turned to go.
“Don’t think I don’t see it,” Hope said after her. “The contradiction of utilizing your knowledge, which was purchased at so great a cost.”
“How do you make peace with it?”
“It’s too late to save those already lost. So all we can do is make sure that whatever was gained is put toward the greatest good. Although it seems impossible, perhaps someday it will balance out.”
Brigga Lin smiled sadly. “I hope we will see that day together.” Then she turned and went to join the others in the galley.
Hope made her way to the quarterdeck where Sadie lounged against a barrel, a fishing line held negligently in one hand, the other end trailing off the stern. She rarely caught anything, but when she did, she gloated for days and insisted everyone on board share it, even if it was something so boney there was barely a mouthful for each person.
Sadie’s eyes were closed, so Hope thought she might be dozing. Rather than wake her, Hope stared out at the horizon. The sea was grim and stormy and beautiful. She listened to the howl of the wind, the roar and hiss of the waves that crashed against the ship—her ship. She closed her eyes and felt the fine cold spray on her face, smelled the salt brine mixed with the scent of the oncoming storm. She loved it all. Sure, she wanted to save Red and make the biomancers answer for their crimes. But she would be lying to herself if she didn’t acknowledge that in these past months under the name Dire Bane, a hunger for excitement and the thrill of battle had slowly grown within her. Feelings no true Vinchen would ever indulge.
“What’s on your mind, Captain?” asked Sadie, her eyes still closed.
“Do you know what I was thinking as I got dressed in my cabin this morning?”
“Hmm, let’s see…,” said Sadie. “You were thinking that it’s been far too long since you bent a cock, so maybe at the next port of call, you’ll get yourself a whore like a proper sailor.”
Hope smiled. She had gotten used to Sadie introducing the topic of sex into every conversation. She had thought it would be less frequent when she gave Sadie and Missing Finn their own cabin. But she had discovered that the opposite was true.
“I asked myself why I still wear this armor.” She tapped her chest. The black leather armor was scarred in a dozen places and stitched up with leather thongs here and there. But any proper Vinchen armor bore the mark of battles, and she polished it regularly, so it was still strong, supple, and a deep, unfaded black.
“Because it makes your ass look good for the toms?” asked Sadie.
“It�
��s a practical choice, of course,” continued Hope, ignoring Sadie’s response. “It’s lightweight, and offers some protection without hindering my movements.”
“I promise you, Red noticed the ass first,” said Sadie. “Or maybe the legs. Your armor shows those off, too. Doesn’t do much for the tits, but then, you don’t have much to work with anyway.”
“And there is some sentimental value,” said Hope, resolute in keeping the conversation on track. “It was made by Hurlo the Cunning, the man who took me in and taught me so much.”
She allowed herself to get lost in the memories of her youthful training. It had seemed so arduous at the time. Now she looked back on it with a strange fondness, particularly when she thought of her teacher’s kind old face. She had hated him sometimes, and loved him at least as often.
“But I wonder,” she said at last. “If it still suits me.”
Sadie sighed and opened her eyes for the first time. “Are we talking grave, then?”
“Yes.”
“Of course it still suits you. It’s Vinchen armor, and you’re Vinchen. Easy.”
“But I’m not a Vinchen. Not really.”
“Yeah, yeah, the muggy gafs can’t handle a molly good as them so they won’t let you join the crew. You and I both know that’s all just so much balls and pricks.”
Hope shook her head. “It’s more than that now. I swore vengeance on Teltho Kan. The Vinchen code says that the only true vengeance is the death of the offender. If the warrior fails in this, better that he die than live in such dishonor. When I chose to spare Teltho Kan’s life, and didn’t take my own life after, I turned away from one of the most important tenets of the code.”
“But Red killed him a few minutes later, didn’t he?”
“That doesn’t matter, Sadie. The choice had already been made. And I feel as though every choice I’ve made since then leads me even farther away from that path.”
