by Chris Fox
The experience was overwhelming in the extreme, and focusing on any one thing caused pain and blurred my vision. There was a sort of undulating tide to the possibilities, one I hadn’t yet learned how to ride.
“The light of the past.” I closed my eyes, and let the prophecy guide me. A resonant chime sounded in the distance.
When I opened my eyes I could see a glittering object in the distance, though it lay underneath a half score millennia. I saw the Remora, not as she was today, but as she’d been in another age, a magnificent magitech vessel with a gleaming hull.
A powerful pulsing came from within the vessel…a sort of beacon. Time beacon? Temporal beacon? Was that what I needed?
I studied the beacon, even as the insanity filled my stomach, and my mind, and my nightmares. There was something else in that sea of possibility.
I spun around and spotted a second beacon. A second Remora. This one lay much closer. This was the vessel we’d arrived in. The hull rusted and pitted, and full of rushed patch jobs. It too bore a beacon. The same beacon, cleverly hidden in a bulkhead all those millennia ago.
All I needed to do was swap the two. Bring the original Remora, and superimpose it over my own. Simple, right?
Nothing is ever simple.
Jerek? It was Vee’s voice, and it bore an edge of panic. What’s happening?
This is the depths damned vortex of death, my father’s gravelly voice came next. I can hear your thoughts. All of you. I don’t like it. A father shouldn’t be privy to this kinda nonsense.
I focused on our reality, and realized that the matrix had pulled from the massive reservoir of fire magic beneath the bridge. It was using that magic to fuel whatever ritual I’d been performing, and part of that magic had spilled onto the bridge. Onto my crew. I’d pulled them into the spell, somehow.
Everyone concentrate, I instructed. I didn’t intend for you to be here, but since you are I need your help. That shining star out there is the Remora from the past. We need to join the two ships together. Think about the Remora as it was, with the temporal beacon, and imagine it down in the hold where we crashed the real ship. Our ship.
I could feel their compliance, just as they could feel my need. We focused on the original Remora, as a group, and together we envisioned it in our own timeline. I don’t know that I could have completed the spell on my own, but with my friends the shining beacon seemed to be moving closer to the matrix. Closer to our reality. To our time.
Closer and closer the old Remora came, until finally it lay directly on top of the beacon in our own time. We’d done it! Elation surged through our link…for a moment anyway.
Then despair and horror began to leak in as one by one we realized our predicament.
Something is missing, I thought at the others. Anyone have an idea?
There is a soul on that ship. I can feel his purity and strength, Kurz thought to us. We are attempting to bring a person ten millennia into the future. Such things cannot be done without sacrifice. The spell calls for such, or we will fail.
I knew he was right. The prophecy had warned me. I thought it to the squad. A life restored, a willing life given in balance.
That seems pretty cut and dried, my father thought, and I could feel his intent. We all could. I’m tired, guys. I love seeing my kids kick ass, but I don’t want to do this anymore. And retirement just isn’t for me. You saw how it was, Jer. I was miserable.
That doesn’t mean there isn’t some new, better path, I countered. There’s no reason to do this. We don’t even know who’s on that ship, or if they’re worth saving.
We know they’re important, my dad reasoned. We know that a prophecy exists just so we can bring them back. And we know we don’t have a ship, unless we do this. I was supposed to die on Kemet, Jer. You gave me every day since, and a chance to get to know my daughter.
Rava was silent, but the bond exposed her emotions. The raw pain, layered atop the loss of Arcan, was more than she could bear. But in her mind I also read resignation. She knew dad was right.
They all did. Only I refused to accept it, even though I knew it was the only real answer. Dad…
It’s my choice. There was a moment of pure elation, and then my father was gone.
Our version of the Remora flickered, and vanished, then was replaced by a shining ship I only half recognized.
I released the magic, and collapsed to my knees. The rings above me slowed, and the spell ended. I panted into my armor, and my head lolled to the side in my helmet.
The first thing I saw was Rava. She rose shakily to her feet, and I blinked when my HUD updated. That couldn’t be right. Her chest now contained a seed of fire magic.
I glanced at Vee, then Kurz, and their profiles updated to match. Both had also gained fire. And me?
I probed within myself mentally. I’d already possessed fire magic. Had the ship given me something else? Yes, it had. I could feel a complex spell woven into my very soul, something involving divination, though it wasn’t clear to me what it meant.
Normally I’d have expected greater fire magic, which would have increased both my resistance, and my own pool. It’s what every mage craved, really. More raw power. But the ship apparently had other plans, and I didn’t have any time to investigate.
“Why?!?” Rava shrieked. She beat at her sides with her fists and screamed wordlessly. “I don’t understand why it has to be so hard. Why do they have to keep dying? It isn’t fair. I just found him…”
In that instant I knew what a terrible person I was. My sister was crying out for our father, who’d just sacrificed his life, and I was worried about the magic I’d gained from a Catalyst?
I ran to Rava, and threw my arms around her. We sank to our knees, and rocked back and forth as we began to cry.
“I worked so hard to keep him alive,” I whispered. “I’m sorry. I tried. I did everything I could.”
“It isn’t your fault.” Rava hugged me even more fiercely. “I’m angry…but not at you, at least not about this. Not even dad. He did it for us. And…”
“…And it was the right call,” I finished for her. “I hate that it was.”
I shook my head to clear it as something involving the prophecy welled up. It wanted us to go to the Remora, but this time I wasn’t going to be yanked about like a puppet.
“What now?” Vee asked quietly, her tone subdued. Her attention was focused on her bracelet, which now sported an enormous trio of fire rubies that hadn’t been there before.
“Now we get Briff back,” I decided aloud. “I learned some things in there. Things that are becoming clear now. I know what the swarm is, and why it’s insane. I know who Cindra is, and why she never took the bridge.”
The bridge’s golden doors began rolling into the floor again. I hadn’t realized they’d even closed, but perhaps that had happened when I had gotten into the matrix.
Whatever the reason…once the doors were gone it exposed about a dozen arachnidrakes who were clearly awaiting our arrival as they lounged outside. They were led by the same one with the silver staff, though I didn’t have a name for the drake who’d given me the prophecy.
“It seems my trust was well placed,” the drake called. He scuttled onto the bridge, and bowed. “We were not formally introduced. I am called Kek. I have brought those who wish to see an end to the strife. Who believe that we can work with our neighbors, and perhaps restore this ship.”
I might not have recognized the creature, but the black staff with the eight red eyes was unmistakably the same as the one who’d shot fire bolted me.
I nodded and strode over to Kek without the slightest fear now that the Web had provided a glimpse of his life. That impression still lay in my mind, though it was fading quickly. “I saw you when I was in there. Saw your people. I believe Cindra will see reason, and we’re going to need her help to deal with the swarm.”
Interlude IV
Minister Ramachan hated that a title had replaced her first name. Her identity as
a mother, as a woman, and as a lover had all been sacrificed to that title. Never more so than today.
The hoverchairs in front of her desk were occupied by literal goddesses. On the right sat a woman that Ramachan knew by reputation. Nara, or Xal’Nara as she was now called. The purple-skinned demon had begun as a war hero, then been accused of being a traitor, and finally defected to her true people, proving her detractors correct.
In the other chair sat a woman with a deceptively innocent appearance, despite being crafted from magma and flame. She looked like a Ternus pleasure house model made to fulfill some awful fantasy. Coy. The girl next door. But utterly lethal, even before she’d become a god.
Frit was also known for her treachery against the Confederacy, though she’d since been pardoned, and the Krox had nominally accepted her into the fold, as Ramachan understood it.
The idea of the Confederacy, of Ternus, working with the Krox after having a half dozen of their colonies scorched to the ground seemed preposterous. Yet there it was. Peace, at any cost. And maybe it was the right choice.
Wasn’t she about to make a deal with the very same Krox?
“When will you know?” Nara asked quietly. There was an intensity to her that Frit lacked. The knowledge that if you displeased her she could and would disintegrate you. There was no threat, of course. But the demon exuded menace all the same.
“Soon, I hope.” The minister blinked as her mind returned to the conversation. “When Jerek passed the trials he said that his experience was nearly instant. They will happen in the mind, I imagine. Whatever the magic they are nearly instant.”
She realized sheepishly that she’d just repeated herself. That was a mistake she’d not made since the first year of college, when she’d met Irala. Back when they’d just been roommates. She was rambling.
“If it isn’t inappropriate,” Frit began, her tone as gentle as her appearance, “perhaps we could discuss specifics? We understand your need for funds, and whether you choose the Krox or the tech demons, we will see that you have the credits to pay the Inurans in time.”
“If they play fair, you mean.” Ramachan rose from her desk, and nodded at the scry-screen that covered the wall. It currently showed the Vagrant Fleet, and beyond that the Inuran trade moon, nearly as large as the Word of Xal. She’d chosen to remain on her flagship, rather than the Great Ship. Her gut said stay here. Be ready to run. Her gut was why she was still alive. “The Inurans are going to make a move. I don’t know what it is, but the hammer will fall soon. They’ll make an excuse. They’ll accuse us of something. Then they’ll attack with everything they have. And they have a lot. Unless one of you ladies is interested in disposing of them? We could factor that into the purchase price of a Great Ship.”
The door to her office hissed, and a figure in midnight armor strode in. The ropey sinew around the suit’s neck slithered away to show Irala’s beautiful face, her smile a salve on their awful situation.
“I’ve done it.” Irala approached, and sat heavily on a hovercouch against the wall. “I’m connected to the ship. I’ll still need Jerek to turn over command, but I’m listed as an officer and can control most functions.”
“Well done, my love.” Ramachan beamed a smile, her relief shining in her eyes, but never voiced as tears.
Both Nara and Frit were watching them, their empathy clear. Even demons had loved ones, she supposed.
“We cannot intervene,” Nara said. She looked to Frit, who nodded. “The Confederacy has specific laws, and if we break them there are those who’d use it to fuel war. The Confederacy is still a fragile thing. We need to use proper channels.”
“And what are those proper channels?” Ramachan’s hand trembled, the rage a living thing. “What am I to tell my people? The barest remnant survives, but the Inurans plan to remedy even that. They plan to take our ship, and your Confederacy won’t help. Can’t you translocate back to Shaya and fill out whatever form you require?”
“It isn’t that simple.” Frit offered an empathetic sigh. “And you’re right to be angry. This is dragon dung, I agree. But if we don’t play the political game everyone loses. You need to contact the Confederacy on your own and ask for help.”
“How?” Ramachan cried. A single tear slid down her cheek, bearing the sum of her frustration and rage. “The Inurans are jamming communications. They can and will manufacture an excuse to attack. Illegally. Yet you will stand by and do nothing?”
“We all know what Matron Jolene is capable of, but she hasn’t broken any laws yet.” Nara rose and shrugged, which at least appeared sincere. “I am terribly sorry. Your world has paid the price for politics that have nothing to do with you. I know exactly what that’s like. I know how impossible this feels. Find a way to do it anyway, or your people will pay the price.”
The minister closed her eyes. She would not cry. There had to be a way around the Inuran blockade, but she just couldn’t see it. They were trapped and blind, with no allies worth a damn, other than Irala.
She shouldn’t have expected so much from demons, and whatever the depths Frit was. “I see. Thank you for your time, ladies. Please contact me when you’ve acquired our asking price, and we’ll discuss the terms of delivery. Please make it soon, or you may find there are no ships left to claim.”
16
I walked tall as I strode down the corridor, through the library, and into the part of the ship where Cinaka and her hatchlings had taken my best friend. Briff and I hadn’t spent much time together lately, and if I’d sent him to his death I’d never forgive myself.
Thankfully, I was guided by my vision in the temporal matrix. Only now did I begin to understand what it had imparted. I’d perceived things the human mind was incapable of processing. A fourth, and possibly fifth dimension. Time and…probability?
What I’d been left with was one perfect moment of clarity. In that moment I’d seen the entire sector, though I hadn’t been consciously aware of it. I’d seen the swarm, and Cindra, and the World of Xal, where my mother was about to step into the reactor to begin her trials.
I’d seen far more, though. I’d seen Shaya, and Virkon, and Nebiat, and Colony 3, and Ternus, and…beyond. Some of that was still in my head.
In this case it meant that I understood Cindra, and her children. The hatchlings, and their Wyrm Mother, were honorable. They wouldn’t harm Briff, unless he gave them cause.
So I strode down that darkened corridor without fear, and my company followed after me. We were too many to call a squad any longer, at least if I got to count Kek and his people. On the one hand the responsibility terrified me.
On the other people were looking to me with real respect, including Vee. More importantly…I respected myself. I knew what the other path was like. I knew about disappointing myself over and over, and pretending it wouldn’t happen again when I knew it would.
Somewhere back on Kemet I’d made a choice to be a different guy. A guy who built and helped, not consumed and burdened. I guess maybe that was what becoming an adult meant. Maybe that was why my dad was proud. I’d finally made the conscious choice to become a man.
Our company flowed down the corridor, and we made no move to hide our presence. They had to know we were coming, and the question remained what they’d do about it. There was a chance they’d attack, but I thought it more likely they’d alert Cindra and ask what she wanted.
Cindra would be curious and unthreatened, if my glimpse of her mind was accurate.
We entered a long corridor that was much wider than the rest. I recognized a killing field when I saw one, and realized this must be why the hatchlings had chosen this place.
One had to cross a hundred meters of open ground in a corridor thirty meters wide, only to reach another choke point on the far side. An enemy force could easily fill the room, where they’d be cut down until their opponents ran out of spells or targets, whichever came first.
“Hey, bro,” Rava whispered into the squad’s private comm. It was the first time s
he’d called me that. “Are you sure you want to do this? If we step into this room, they could end us all.”
“Point taken,” I whispered back. Then I raised my hand and clenched a fist. The column came to a halt, and I activated my external speakers. “I’m going to proceed alone. I expect they’ll meet me at the hallway. If they cut me down, then we know I was wrong, and you guys need to hightail it to the Remora and get back to the Word with as many scales as you can carry.”
No one protested, but as I stepped into the wider corridor and began to cross I noticed that Rava, Kurz, and Vee all followed. For a moment, just a moment, I found myself scanning for my father. No. Focus.
I turned back to my destination and walked boldly toward the other end. The rest of the squad fanned out behind me. Only Rava had her weapon out, though her rifle was lowered at least. My hand rested on my new pistol, mostly for comfort.
As expected, we were met at the other end. A pair of unconcerned smoky-grey hatchlings stepped from the point where the hallway narrowed to meet us.
“You are the white-scale’s pets?” the male on the right rumbled in ancient draconic. “Why are you with the twisted ones? They are not welcome here, and we will slay them if they approach.”
“They won’t,” I reassured him, then punctuated it with a bow. “I’ve come to speak to Cindra, about the Web of Divinity, and about this ship. I think she’ll want to see me.”
The hatchling blinked slitted eyes down at me as he considered the request. He remained silent for long moments, and out of the corner of my eye I could see the squad tensing. This could get ugly if I didn’t hurry it along.
“I doubt it, but it’s your life,” the hatchling finally said. He pointed behind him, up the narrow corridor. “You may go, but only you. The rest of the no-scales must stay here. If there is treachery, then we will devour them all. Is that understood, pet?”
“Understood,” I confirmed. Then I switched to internal comms. “Get ready to bolt if you need to. Fall back rather than fight if threatened, unless you have no other choice. I’m going in to get Briff.”
