“Not another word on this until after our guest leaves.”
Ju-Long and Astrid nodded their heads while Saturn simply shrugged.
Nix spun the wheel, releasing the hatch leading to the airlock. The crew hovered nearby and waited in silence. The clinks and clanks on the metal ladder let Nix know ahead of time that they were on their way up, though in the shadowy passage it was difficult to make out anything but the darkness. Soon, Misra’s shroud appeared as he climbed up and out of the hatch. After he’d done so, Ju-Long moved to close the hatch behind him but was quickly stopped. A squat metal figure climbed up behind Misra.
“Don’t worry,” Misra told Ju-Long, “It’s harmless. Well, mostly.”
For a moment, the crew maintained their silence. Saturn and Astrid regarded the robot skeptically while Nix’s eyes never left the shroud over Misra’s face, twin yellow beams muffled by the black cloth over his eyes. Ju-Long was the first to speak.
“Did you make this?” Ju-Long asked, intrigued.
He bent in for a closer look at the robot’s facial features. The bot’s torso spun in a circle and clanked one of its hands against Ju-Long’s face.
“Call it Reznik,” Misra said with a laugh.
Ju-Long stepped back, holding his cheek. Nix shook his head and smiled. Humans and their curiosity, he thought. That one was going to leave a bruise.
Undeterred, Ju-Long asked him, “Where did you get these alloys? I haven’t seen anything like them since the robots on the Belt.”
Misra shook his head and turned to regard Saturn.
“A story for another time,” Misra said dismissively, “But there’s more important things to discuss at the moment. How do you know that man? The human.”
Saturn opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. When she didn’t reply, Nix stepped in and offered, “Our former Captain, Liam Kidd. At least, a version of him from another place.”
Nix folded one arm over the other and eyed the man warily. The Order of Katala never did anything for free. Was he coming to collect? Nix played through a number of scenarios in his head and was highly aware of the laser in the holster at his hip. He’d even prepare with a curved Dinari weapon hidden on his belt behind his waist.
Misra laughed and placed both of his gloved hands over his hips, broadening his chest.
“Liam Kidd you say? Well this keeps getting better and better,” Misra said, his muffled voice trailing off.
Nix felt his arms uncross, though Astrid beat him to the punch.
“You know him?”
Misra shook his head beneath his wrappings.
“No. At least, not directly. In my time there was another, but, he’s the spitting image.”
Saturn eyed him quizzically. Nix regarded her out of the corner of his eye. She seemed to be equally skeptical of Misra and his bot. Perhaps for good reason, he thought.
“In your time?” Astrid asked and then continued, speaking more to herself than to anyone in particular, “Then...”
Misra gripped the tail end of one of his black wrappings and began to pull as though tugging on a sweater’s wayward thread. Little by little the thin strips of cloth began to coil on the grated metal floor of the cargo bay.
“You’ll forgive the deception,” Misra began to say, “But it’s time you knew the truth.”
“Sir,” Reznik squawked, “Rule number four.”
“Quiet. We’re already past all of that.”
Nix felt his jaw lower against his will as Misra removed the last of his wraps. Behind the black eye screens were two yellow diodes, bright as could be and powered by a round battery attached to the inside of the dark cloth. Within, screens projected an array of viewpoints from hidden cameras on the eye screens.
Misra took a deep breath and let it out, eyeing each one of the crew in turn with his warm brown eyes. His black hair was kept short but was slicked back with sweat. Misra’s deeply tan skin was wrinkled in areas, though he had the build of a man who was past his prime but who maintained his physique rather well. His face was lined with thick stubble, indicating growing a beard could be a weekly affair for him if he wished. Based on Nix’s limited knowledge of human ages, he guessed Misra was at least ten or twenty years older than either Saturn or Ju-Long.
Misra noticed the prolonged stares and explained, “My name is Misra Vanek, pilot of The Kasha and engineer for Vesta Corporation’s experimental lab in the Czech Republic. I was transported to this place against my will in the year 2044. Soon after, I helped lead the Corsairs against the Ansaran fleet on that fateful day. An assault which to this day remains unresolved.”
Misra said the last bit with poison on his tongue as though recalling a sour memory.
Saturn approached him and gazed into his soft brown eyes. She touched his face as though ensuring he was actually real and present in The Garuda’s cargo bay. After her recent encounter with people who should be dead, Nix didn’t blame her for being suspicious. She cupped his hard cheeks and ran her fingers through his thick black hair which was tinged with streaks of silver.
“You—you’re human...But that’s impossible,” Saturn said at last, letting her hands fall to her sides, “That attack was more than a hundred years ago.”
Misra smiled and gently placed one of his gloved hands on Saturn’s shoulder. She gazed up at him in wonder.
“Nothing’s impossible. Come on,” Misra said, “We have a lot to discuss.”
EPILOGUE
The Archives, Garuda Colony, Planet Garuda
Zega placed his torch in the iron bracket on the wall, its flickering flame casting light on the stone walls. Shadows clung to every crevice and every corner. Above him arched a nave roof, curving with the complexity afforded only the noblest of houses. Etched in the vaulted ceilings were all manner of beasts, from the Arondak lizard to Churels, Jians, and even rarer creatures which Zega could not even name.
The corpulent caretaker moved forward and blew a layer of dust off the ancient text which sat on the altar before him. Beneath the crusts of time was the bifurcated spiral glyph, emblazoned deep on the peeling leather cover.
Zega coughed from the plume of dust hanging in the air and found himself hacking up the leg of one of the small green lizards he’d eaten an hour before. He shook his fat hand, letting the slimy limb fall to the sandy stone by his feet and rubbed away the excess on his silky cloak. When he’d finished, he pulled on the cover of the text and gazed at the words of the old language. The translation chip at the nape of his neck transformed the seldom-used glyphs in his mind.
“The House of Janus,” Zega read aloud, “May your burdens here be lifted. Keepers of the gate. Guardians of the path.”
Zega shook his head and said, “What nonsense.”
With a scoff he turned the thick vellum page. Cut into the histories of the House of Janus was a small circle, gutting the pages deep into the book. A violet gem with countless immaculate sides reflected the light from his torch. Zega used his claws to retrieve the gem from the book, turning it over in his hands and holding it up to the fire. Within it, an eerie light grew, growing in intensity until it burned the brightest sort of purple he’d ever seen; brighter still than the purest of Aether.
“And what do you do?” Zega mused, voice trailing off in the large archival chamber.
Note from the Author
I hope you liked the fourth installment of The Corsair Uprising Space Opera Series! If you enjoyed it, please consider telling your friends or posting a short review. Word of mouth is an author's best friend and is much appreciated.
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The Lost Corsair (The Corsair Uprising Space Opera Series Book 4) Page 17
