Anchor Knight

by Nathan Thompson

  "Forgiven," I told her, remembering my own shame over wanting to snap at the few people who would try to help me from time to time, people like Nova, while desperately wanting them to stick around at the same time. My one advantage over Vessa was that I was too afraid of people ever hearing my real thoughts, my real anger and shame.

  Then I remembered a time back when I was very young, when my parents were alive. I had walked in while they were finishing up an argument. My mother had shouted some angry words in Mandarin that I hadn't learned yet—something about not being some kind of flower—and stormed out of the living room. My father just sat back down and sighed. Then he pulled me over to give me another one of his lessons.

  "Vessa," I said, slowing my pace just a little. The hallway wasn't that long, and I wanted to finish this conversation. "Can I explain something that some Earth women don't get about some Earth men, that I think might be true on other worlds?"

  "What?" she asked, sniffing again. "Um, okay," she decided. "Sure. Go for it."

  "Earth women—some of them, at least, maybe not all—think Earth men always pity weak things, and get protective around them, so that they can feel stronger. It might be true for some men, especially those that are really being controlling instead of protective, but most of us don't really care if something's weak. We stomp on bugs, throw rocks at glass, knock over insect mounds. Especially when we're young. In fact we like to break things just to feel powerful. A lot of the games we play with each other are really rough, and we have phrases like 'go for the throat' when we talk about being competitive.” As I spoke, I realized there were even more examples, and I tried to pull them together so that I had a single thread of reasoning. “We have to be trained not to break things, in fact. If we protect something, or someone, it's not because we think they're weak. It's because we think they're valuable. They mean a lot to us. We can't replace them if they get damaged. Some men used to have these powerful vehicles that were made almost entirely out of metal, and bragged about how well-made they were, and still did their best to make sure the vehicle never got so much as a scratch on it. I used to have an old magazine collection, that I was terrified of having even one of the pages bent incorrectly, because I knew they were limited issues. We Earth men have a reputation for being dense, but if we realize something—or someone—" I looked directly at her. "Is special, or irreplaceable, then we'll protect and care for it as best as we can, even if we're not that good at it. But it's never about pity. If anything, it's about our own weakness, protecting the person or thing because we think we need it."

  I finished my long-winded explanation, and wondered if I had just spent several minutes telling Vessa something she already knew. But she didn't say anything back. She just shifted a bit in my arms. When we finally caught up with Nova and Nestor in the sensor room, I lowered her to her feet as carefully as I could, while still letting her use the strength I now knew she had. She smiled at me as she stood, and squeezed my arm. I took that as a good sign.

  "Thanks, Jasper," she said, clearing her throat without giving any indication as to what we were talking about. "Okay. I'm actually going to wait here and operate the device directly, just to be safe."

  "That's safer?" I asked, surprised.

  "Usually, no," Vessa supplied. "But now that I'm getting stronger, if I send a mental command and operate the physical controls at the same time, there's less risk of failure. I just haven't bothered with it because I only regained the ability to stand on my own for any reasonable length of time earlier today."

  I nodded, and the four of us moved to gather around the strange cylinder. Vessa put her hands on it, frowned for a moment, and then touched an indentation somewhere on the leftmost side.

  "Good grief, that's way more work than just thinking about what I want it to do. How did my crew even…" The ship woman shook her head. "Never mind. I'm about to activate the teleporter. It's going to feel different than my normal one, in that it's going to be less gradual. You're going to feel like you're being pulled straight through my hull. It won't hurt and should be perfectly safe, but I still want all three of you, including Nestor, to activate whatever Source enhancements you have right now. I don't care if it's a charm, technique, or spell; if it will make you tougher or safer, activate it right now, and then do it again when you land on the other side. Understood?"

  As she finished, she gave us such a serious glare that I didn't even think about questioning her. I activated my new flood barrier, cast a biology spell laced with earth and metal qi through my new hide charms, and then finally used a wood qi technique reinforced with a breath charm, flesh charm, and a new physiology spell to help my lungs and other organs function as perfectly as they could.

  When I finished and looked up, Vessa was still glaring at me, so I sighed and activated every power I could think of that might help me survive the near vacuum of space. Even then she didn't give a satisfied nod until I finally took my halfblade out of my inner planet and stuck it back through one of the loops of my belt.

  "It's faster when you just reach for it, instead of trying to summon it from your Soulscape," the ship-woman explained, "I know. I've timed you."

  Nova sighed as she drew her baton and began to glow. Nestor squeaked and did something that made his fur change multiple colors at once, until he was like a miniature tiger with multi-colored stripes. Vessa gave him a wide smile.

  "That's perfect," she said, "Let's get going."

  I-win?

  Yes, you 'won,' cheater, I told the little attention-seeker.

  Then Vessa hit whatever final button she needed, lighting up the rest of the teleporter.

  "Alright, you three," she said. "Brace yourselves, because it's going to feel like you're being—"

  Yank, my body said, as I hurtled straight toward the metal wall.

  Before I could remind myself just how much slamming into the wall hurt yesterday, I sank directly through it. Then I passed through the darkness of another compartment, too quickly to learn its shape. Then another. And another. And then through a mass of blackness I couldn't identify.

  My brain was moving far too slowly to take in any of the images it had seen. But, it had decided to recall just how often Vessa had insisted something would 'likely be safe' and been incorrect. It went through the entire list, over and over, until I was certain that my body would become solid again just in time to pass through every monster and sharp object left in her hull.

  Then some sort of coating settled over my body, one that I could detect, but not feel. The darkness brightened with over a hundred tiny points of light, and I felt my feet land on something marvelously solid. I looked down and saw that I was standing on a giant metal horizon, one that stretched far out in every direction, until it curved out of view.

  But the starry darkness above me stretched out even farther.

  I stared all around me, unable to just look upward, because the sky wasn't just upward anymore.

  It was all around me.

  I could see stars if I raised my head, tilted to the right or left, even if I looked down at an angle, because the steel, curved horizon I was standing on drifted through the night sky, spinning slightly as it traveled. It was this final fact, not just that I could see stars, but where I could see the stars. They swirled languidly around me, sparkling far brighter than the distant lights I remembered seeing back on Earth, where pollution and government satellites limited both sight and knowledge of them. The most distant of these glowed or twinkled white, but I found that some of the closer ones ran the spectrum of color, blazing a brilliant red, orange, or yellow. Squinting slightly at the very brightest, I realized that some of them were not white at all, but were blue or green.

  The sight dazzled me. I had known about stars from my parents, known that they were classified by temperature and color, but it still awed me to see them in any color other than white. The night sky glittered like a rainbow-colored curtain draping around me to protect the privacy of the more distant, white-glowing jew
els, while still welcoming me into the place beyond worlds.

  "Wow…" Nova said beside me, her voice sounding strange in the diminished atmosphere. "So they are real…" She turned to look at me. A translucent bubble surrounded her head, but I could still see her bright-blue eyes shine with excitement. "They tried so hard to make us stop believing in them…"

  I knew what she was talking about. As the Global Republic grew in power, its ruling body released all manner of studies by supposed experts that doubted the existence of stars, other planets, and any other phenomenon not already under its control. By the time Vessa had found me, there were already people saying that our sun was not an actual star, but the physical manifestation of our Glorious State's power and enlightenment.

  Jasper, Nova, a string of letters appeared in front of my eyes. Can you read this?

  Yes, Vessa, I replied, thinking out script in my mind to type at her. All three of us are safe, I added, after confirming that Nestor was still on my shoulder.

  Good, she texted back. I wish I had been able to get new communication devices for you three, but it's proving harder to make than I originally thought. I'm still watching you all, though. So don't worry, she added. A moment later, she sent me another message: what do you think of the night sky?

  It is beautiful, I said, watching what looked to be golden dust scatter far off in the distance. Perhaps it was an asteroid breaking up, or it was some new phenomenon completely unknown to the people of Earth. So dark and colorful and empty and full, all at the same time.

  I know, she wrote back to me, and I somehow felt the grin in her written words. It's why I always have trouble referring to it as a 'void' or a 'vacuum.' It's almost true, because there's so much space, but it's far from empty. Hey… look behind you, and then look up.

  I did what she said, and so did Nova. We turned and saw a blazing orange fireball the size of a basketball burn as it hung in the inky darkness. I worried that its brightness would burn my eyes, but either Vessa's bubble or my body's own changes protected me from going blind. It had to be this solar system's sun, the star lighting the planets we had been visiting before we went to my grandmother's Sourcepalace. As I saw that, I tried to look for the Sourcepalace itself, before remembering that it was buried deep in a nondescript asteroid.

  Sorry, I typed to her, shaking my head. I didn't mean to get this distracted. Which direction should we go?

  Forward, she replied, that was actually the real reason I told you to look at the local sun.

  Fair enough, I decided. Nova and I walked across the curved metal surface, rising up like some shining steel hill. When I looked down and examined the outside of the ship that had become my new home, I realized something.

  Amidst the dark, colorful brilliance of the night sky, Vessa belonged here.

  Colors rolled off the metallic surface of her ship body, making it seem as if the ship itself was breathing as the rainbow of light rolled along it. I had no idea how she had avoided capture for so long, because her body was vast and glorious, far larger than any ship I had heard about on the waters of Earth, even the monstrous vessels built to project the power of the Glorious State. The riot of color running along her made it hard for me to grasp her true size, as did the curves and slopes of her surface, but she was easily over a mile long.

  That fact reminded me of all the rooms likely remaining inside of her, parts of her body taken from her, as if she had been ravaged by some devastating disease, one that she was determined to fight to the very end. And now that I was standing on her hull, I could see that damage from a broad view. I doubted I could even see an entire third of her total ship-body, but the cracks, crumpled indents, and blackened sections along her were numerous. There were even portions that sparked, as if a hundred live wires were sizzling. They were thankfully far away, but I knew coming near them had to be dangerous no matter what manner of magical protections I currently had.

  It should have discouraged me, to realize I had that much work left before she was whole. But I had seen her courage in facing that damage, her will in resisting to the very end, and then her desire to do more than resist when her supposed end had passed, and she had survived with the help of a single friend. Unlike me, she knew just how much of herself she needed to recover, and just how hard it would be to take it back. No one had more reason to be discouraged over her recovery than her.

  I had two choices: either give up on her recovery, write her off in my mind, and let her die; or believe in her, charge into danger on her behalf, and trust that she would make the best use possible of my support.

  I put one foot in front of the other, over and over again.

  As Nova and I walked, I realized Nestor was still on my shoulder, tightly clenching my shoulder armor.

  What's the matter, little friend? I asked. Do you not wish to explore this new place?

  The normally curious lifemouse shook his head, not even bothering to squeak.

  Scared-scared, he told me. Too-big. Too-loose.

  That made sense. My little friend had been fearless in face of danger, especially when that danger posed a threat to another. He was braver than me, in many ways. In fact, I might had died the day I met him, if he hadn't taken a huge personal risk. But the vastness of space was completely new territory for the brave little survivor. It was understandable that he would be hesitant here.

  It certainly is scary, I told him, but is it also beautiful?

  He looked up from the little ball he had tucked himself into. He sniffed once, then wiggled his whiskers.

  Yes-yes.

  What do you think of Vessa's other body? I asked, pointing at the surface we walked on.

  Ves-sa? he asked, sniffing again in the direction of the metal expanse. His fluffy ears perked up instantly.

  Ves-sa! Yes-yes! He scampered down my body immediately, nuzzling the hull as he stepped upon it. Ves-sa! Ves-sa! Then he raised his face back at me, with that serious look he made whenever others were in danger. Save-her! Keep-safe!

  I smiled, and let our scout take point.

  We made it up the Soulship's sloping surface without difficulty, except for the distraction of all the brilliant heavenly bodies parading about us, and the way Vessa's surface would mirror their effects. When we reached the apex of the slope, we could look out and see that this portion of Vessa's surface resembled a series of rolling metal hills, for as far as I could see. The only exceptions were those marked by the damage I had noticed earlier.

  More importantly, though, was that this hill had a loop of metal lying flat on top of it, looking like an ancient hula hoop that had been dropped. Its open center flickered like the surface of a mercury pool. The rim was about as thick as my thumb, but I could see some writing along the edges. Nestor paced around the loop, sniffing it cautiously.

  Is this one of the portals? I sent to Vessa.

  Yes, she typed back to me. The writing on the side will tell you how to deactivate it. If you need I can translate for… oh. Okay. That was quick.

  It was in Latin, I replied as I removed my thumb from where the script said to press. The shimmering surface in the center had gone dark almost immediately.

  Right, Vessa typed back. I sort of forgot that you were a polyglot. Good job, Jasper.

  As my hand started to let go of it, the small planet floating in my soul began spinning rapidly.

  You can't eat it, I told the hungry thing. It's too big.

  It seemed to spin even faster as a reply.

  Go ahead and listen to it this time, grandson, Mara said from inside my soul. It will be fine.

  "Nova," I sighed. "Could you and Nestor guard my back for a moment?"

  The Beacon nodded with a shrug. I crouched down even farther, and opened a thin hole running along the entire length of my torso and both arms. It was difficult, but in the end my spirit was able to swallow the deactivated portal and send it inside near my grandmother's treasure mound.

  Honored grandmother, I said immediately. Please move that device
as far away from my siblings as possible, and at your earliest convenience.

  You don't need to advise me to do that, young rider, the spiritual dragon chuckled as she shifted her form up. Dimali and Topa noticed her move, and then their tiny eyes lit up as they saw the new hoop on the ground. But their grandmother just shooed them away before she picked them up in one of her claws and flew to a far-off hill on my little world.

  There, she said to me. By the time they're old enough to climb to the device, we'll have other countermeasures for them.

  I thanked her and breathed a sigh of relief. Vessa had assured me that these things were difficult to activate, but I believed with absolute confidence that a determined enough infant or toddler could activate all manner of dangerous devices, given enough time and lax supervision.

  "I think I see another one on the next hill over," Nova said as she pointed ahead of us. "To the north, I think… nevermind. We're not even on a planet right now. There's no such thing as north or south. Let's just go." She shook her head irritably and began moving forward. Nestor scampered ahead of her.

  I followed, and began listening for noises. The lack of danger was bothering me. Starship curvature excluded, I could see for an eternity in any direction. Despite after walking enough distance to encounter three chambers' worth of enemies, nothing rose up to greet or menace us. The wide safety of Vessa's outer hull was a disturbing juxtaposition to the danger lurking in her cramped and confined hold, and I was having trouble adjusting to it.

  Watch out, her text suddenly scrawled across my mind. There's a small pack of flying monsters near you both. Looks to be a corrupted form of bat. Each one is roughly at the third stage of Advancement, so a dozen of them could be dangerous for you two.

  Understood, I said, the same time as I saw Nova nod in relief. The lack of danger had apparently been getting to her as well.

  So as we crossed to the next portal, we scanned the colorful night sky for dark, winged shapes.

  We deactivated another two portals, another one of which was small enough for my Soulscape to absorb. After I absorbed that portal, I heard a warning squeak from Nestor. Nova and I immediately turned to see him point his nose at a winged shape that flapped in the distance. As we looked on, the figure banked and flew away from us, disappearing over the curve of the ship.