by Craig Gaydas
Embeth turned to me. “Come on Nathan, let's get out of here.”
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Back to the ship,” he replied gruffly. “We need to go over some things before we arrive at our destination.”
We started towards the boat, but a voice called out behind us. I turned to see Grillick running toward us. “Wait one minute!”
Embeth stopped and stared at him with mild curiosity. “What is it now from you people?” he growled. “It's bad enough you forced me to concede to your plan.”
Grillick's lips formed a tight line underneath his forest of a beard. “Let's get one thing perfectly clear. This was not my plan. We are forced to utilize the hand we have been dealt.” His eyes drifted toward me and he leaned in to whisper. “To be honest, I would rather stick my head inside a discombobulator right about now than move forward with this plan, but we need to do what's necessary to achieve our goal.” He leaned back and glanced at Embeth. “You have my ship at your disposal with one condition.”
“What is that?” asked Embeth.
“I respectfully request that Nathan accompany me, for we have many things we need to discuss.”
Embeth tossed me a sour look and shrugged. “If that is what he wants, it makes no difference to me.”
I wanted to talk Lianne and continue our discussion from earlier, but I had to admit, there had been a place reserved in my heart for the technological enigmas the Gordian Knot offered. I was reluctant to admit I even enjoyed some of Grog's cooking as well. “Yes, I would like that,” I replied.
Grillick smiled broadly and rubbed his belly. The gesture made him look like the universe's smallest Santa Claus. “That is excellent to hear. My ship is docked at the opposite side of the city.” He turned to Ajox. “Would you mind if we hopped a ride aboard one of those transports of yours?”
“No problem,” he replied.
He shuffled over to a nearby metal pole. The pole had a spiral light bulb, encased in glass, at the top. At first glance, it seemed like a street light until he pushed a button on the side and the light began blinking with a warm yellow glow. Several minutes later, a transport pulled up to the curb and we shuffled aboard.
The transport took us to the opposite side of the city from where I entered. The bus stopped and we stepped out. Ahead of us was an escalator, surrounded by hydraulic tubes, similar to those on the other side of the city. We rode the escalator down and hopped on another aquatic elevator ride to the surface. I had to shield my eyes from bright beams of radiance as the Vaire sun nearly blinded me after stepping foot on the surface. After the sun spots faded, I was able to focus on a lone figure sitting on the ground, resting against a large rock, using the end of a dagger to pick at his teeth. Next to him on the ground lay the familiar blue and black helmet associated with him and his mercenaries.
Cantrell heard us approach and looked up. “It's about time you guys got done in there. The only thing I had left to do after my teeth was my toenails.” He brayed laughter, grabbed his helmet and stood up.
“I see you are still sailing around the universe with this guy,” I muttered to Grillick.
Cantrell's laughter died down. “Hey, I'm insulted,” he cried with feigned indignance. “One day, I may save your worthless hide.” He shoved the helmet on and with a sarcastic bow, gestured toward the marina. “Your chariot awaits your majesty.”
Grillick rolled his eyes and elbowed me in the side before stepping into the boat. “Always the dramatic one, this one is.”
“Whatever you say, Yoda,” I replied with a smile.
Grillick stepped around the Hydrophant sailor manning the controls and turned back to me with a confused expression on his face. “Who?”
“Never mind,” I said with a wave of my hand.
It took us less than twenty minutes to get to the ship. I spent a majority of that time staring at the sea, gathering my thoughts. Grillick spent most of that time mumbling to himself about whether or not he left the chromatic arc welder running in the lab (whatever that meant). When we arrived at the ship, two of Cantrell's mercenaries were waiting for us, fully armed and ready for battle.
“Is that really necessary?” I asked Grillick, motioning to the soldiers.
“Safety precautions,” he replied.
“But these people are our allies,” I argued.
He turned to me and his expression hardened. “The Order of the Sun was supposed to be our ally too. One can never be too careful these days.”
Point taken.
We boarded the ship where I followed Grillick and Cantrell to the lab. On the way, we passed Grog's. The smell of smoking meat wafted from the rear of his shop which made my mouth water. Neither Grog nor Preek were anywhere to be seen. I assumed they were tag teaming whatever delicacy was cooking in the back.
Once we reached the lab, Grillick turned to Cantrell. “Sergeant, are your men ready?”
Cantrell removed his helmet and nodded grimly. “They have been briefed. We will need to meet and discuss tactics once everyone is ready. I have a plan in my head, but until Embeth lets me know what our military strength is, I won't be able to execute it.”
“Agreed,” said Grillick. “Continue on and I will touch base with you soon.”
With a curt nod Cantrell left. Grillick opened the door and motioned me inside the lab. It was much more organized than I last remembered. Vials and decanters were stored neatly in rows on shelves. Instead of a half-built cyborg lying on the table, in the middle of the room there was a sheet of paper rolled up like a newspaper. Along the walls, all cabinet doors were closed and relabeled. The bookcase on the far side of the wall had its books all lined up and organized alphabetically.
“You've been busy,” I remarked.
Grillick surveyed the room with a smile. “I figured it was a good as time as any to refocus and reorganize.” He shuffled over to a polished steel cabinet and examined an item that looked like an oversized salad bowl, as black as the night sky. After taking it off the cabinet, he looked inside and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank the stars. I was worried I had left this on.” He gently returned it to its place on the cabinet.
“What is it?” I asked.
“It is my discombobulator-recombobulator.” He waved his hand dismissively. “It is nothing you need to be concerned about. There is something I would like to show you though.” He waddled over to the bookcase and examined the many books lined within. “Now where is it,” he mumbled as he scanned each book. When he reached the third shelf, he clapped his hands together. “Eureka! There it is.” He grabbed one of the books and slid it forward. The bookcase rumbled and slid aside, revealing a passage behind it.
He stepped inside and I moved to follow. Before I could follow him inside, he turned abruptly, startling me. “Wait a minute.” He cocked his head to the side and appeared to be listening for something. A minute passed before he turned to me with a queer look on his face. “Remind me to check the fish tank. They have been strangely quiet today.” He turned and walked through the passage.
I was about to ask how noisy a fish was, but decided to keep my mouth shut. The passage was short, eventually opening into a well illuminated room with several display cases mounted against the walls with several shelves loaded with various items. On the shelves were items that appeared to be anything from pens to hand grenades. Each case was encased in glass, as if they were museum displays. Each case had its own illumination system, allowing cascades of light to rain down on the items in order to display them clearly.
“What the heck is all this?” I asked, my interest piqued by something on the shelf that looked like a statue of a jade duck.
Grillick placed his hands on his hips and beamed proudly. “These, my friend, are some of my greatest inventions.” Near the entrance was a light switch. He flipped it down, but instead of the lights turning off, the front of the glass cases slid into the floor exposing their wares. Grillick rushed over and grabbed an item that looked like a horizon
tal Pringles container mounted on top of a tripod. “This here was one of my earliest inventions.” He turned it over in his hands. “I visited a planet long ago and witnessed several children throwing a spherical object at each other. I remember remarking at the time that it was a simple enough concept, yet the children were throwing with such inconsistent velocity and accuracy that I failed to understand why they were laughing and gaining pleasure from the sport. Frankly, I was growing quite frustrated just watching it.” He placed the object on the ground and pointed the tube toward me. Along the top side of the tube was a keypad and digital readout. “I collected data from the participants and calculated that, with more consistency in speed and arc, I could improve the fun factor by seventy-four point oh-nine percent.” After punching some numbers into the item using the keypad, a ball shot out of the tube and hit me in the chest.
“Ow,” I cried out, more from surprise than pain. The ball didn't come out overly fast and I assumed it was because of the calculations Grillick programmed into it. The ball fell to the floor with a thud.
“Oops,” he apologized. “I never devised a name for this prototype and my interest in it waned over the years, but I stuck it in this case for nostalgia reasons.” He picked it up and returned it to the case.
“A pen is not that great of an invention,” I said, reaching for the pen.
“NO DON'T TOUCH THAT!” Grillick shouted, slapping my hand away.
“Hey,” I cried. “What did you do that for?”
Grillick wiped the back of his hand across his brow. “Whew, that was a close one.” He pointed at the pen and I could see his finger visibly shaking. “That is no pen. It is a miniature black hole creator.” He flipped the switch on the wall and the glass doors emerged from the floor, closing off the cabinets. “All you would need to do is point that thing in the wrong direction and you can wave bye-bye to everything around you.”
My eyes widened with the dreadful reality of how close I came to sucking myself into an alternate universe, parallel dimension, or wherever the hell black holes go. “Why are you showing me all of this?” I asked once the glass cases snapped closed.
Grillick turned toward the passage, and for a moment, I thought he would ignore the question and leave me behind. He stopped, however, and bowed his head. “I am an inventor…have been my entire life.” He paused for several seconds before continuing. “I wanted to show you these because a part of my soul is embodied into each and every one of them. I wanted you to know they were here.”
“Why?” I prodded.
“There are dark times ahead, darker than any in recent memory,” he replied before walking down the passage.
I hurried after him. “Wait a minute, what do you mean?”
He closed the bookcase behind us as we entered the lab, shutting off the passage. With a nervous twitch, he ran his hand through his beard and scratched his chin. “Oh, never mind, I'm just ranting like a senile old man.” He shuffled over to a chest of drawers that was on wheels and rolled it to the middle of the room. He stopped and stared at it for several moments. “Now, which drawer did I put it in?” he mumbled. “Ah ha!” he shouted and opened the bottom drawer. He retrieved a yellowed piece of paper tied with a string that looked like some sort of ancient scroll. “You need to see this,” he said, clutching the paper and shaking it as if he held a winning lottery ticket. He untied it and unfolded it across a nearby table. I hurried over, eager to see what it was. My disappointment upon seeing it was so intense I could taste it. The sheet of paper was blank.
“Wow, this is exciting,” I exclaimed, each word oozing sarcasm.
“Ah, but it is!” Grillick tittered. At the bottom right corner of the paper was a box with a line at the bottom. Grillick removed a pen from his pocket, but instead of a writing tip, it had a small ball of rubber, like a stylus. Using the balled side end, he wrote a single word on the line: Gliese.
All of a sudden the paper illuminated with a faint yellow light as lines began to scratch their way across its surface. Soon the lines became shapes, the shapes became objects, the objects became landscapes, and the landscapes morphed into continents. I blinked with surprise as the formerly blank sheet of paper was now a detailed map of Gliese. “Holy crap!” I exclaimed.
“Do you like it?” Grillick asked. “This is the only one in existence. I created it long before the Consortium had a Cartographer.”
I stared at the object, wide-eyed. “This would be an awesome thing to have as the Cartographer. Did you ever think of lending it to the Consortium?”
Grillick's face darkened. “I did once, but luckily, I had been able to get it back.”
For a moment, I couldn't figure out why his mood changed, but then I thought of the stories I had been told during my time with the Consortium. “Ales Banda,” I stated rather than asked, recalling the rogue Cartographer who almost destroyed the Consortium.
Grillick nodded and turned his attention to the map. “We do not have the military might to attack Gliese directly, especially with the reinforcements that Calypso sent. This is where we need to start the assault.” He pointed to a spot on the map, a rural section just outside the Riverlands district. I knew the spot well.
“Bofor,” I replied.
“We need the rebels, if we are to succeed,” Grillick acknowledged. “Embeth and Cantrell can argue until they are blue in the face about attacking with everything we got. Without the strength of the populace behind us, we will not win.”
He looked up at me. I recognized the look in his eyes. “So, I guess this is where I come in?”
Grillick smiled warmly. “You have dealt with this person before. They trust you. You need to convince them that what we do is for their own good.”
“I will do what I can,” I replied.
Grillick moved his finger to an area beyond the Badlands. He slid his thumb and forefinger out and zoomed in on a particular location. From what I could tell, it was the top of a temple of some kind. Surrounding it were fields of red and yellow, which I assumed were flowers. A river circled around it and a bridge connected the temple area to the main road leading away toward the farming district. Although I had never been there before, I recognized it immediately.
“The headquarters for the Order of the Sun, I assume?”
“Indeed,” he confirmed. “Although it looks like a temple, it is actually a fortress. The areas that look like steeples are actually concrete, fortified turrets manned day and night by highly trained snipers. The river surrounding the temple area is filled with carnivorous Pterois. They are small, but as soon as they lock on a victim, they swarm him until there is nothing left, but bone.”
“Well, that sounds like a good time,” I grumbled.
Grillick continued, ignoring my jest. “The bridge is the only way to access the inner sanctum of the temple. Guard stations are manned on both sides and the bridge is designed to self-destruct if hostile forces approach.”
“If they blow up the bridge, how does the Order expect to get out?” I asked.
He pointed at the rear of the temple. “There is an underground tunnel leading from here…” He slid his finger beyond, to an area bordering the beaches of the Obsidian Isles. “To here. The Order has a well-guarded hangar here with a ship prepared to whisk them away to parts unknown, if necessary.”
I was shocked. “They would abandon their own planet?”
Grillick shrugged. “They are not soldiers. They have people in place ready to die on their behalf.”
I slammed my fist on the table and turned to Grillick. “We must win. The universe doesn't need people like this.”
Grillick's smile faded. Using his thumb, he wiped away the word Gliese, causing the scroll to go blank. “There will always be people like this,” he muttered.
“What the hell does that mean?” I asked, exasperated.
“Do not let the cruelty of one, blind you to the suffering of many,” he replied. “Gliese is just one planet among many. The Order is just one government among
countless others. It would take you several lifetimes to correct the injustices perpetrated upon societies across the galaxies. You are not a god, Nathan.”
For several moments, I looked down at the scroll in silence. “Then who is?” I asked finally.
“Pardon me?” he asked.
“Who is God?” I rolled up the scroll, tied it up and handed it to him. My demeanor was serious. The question was not meant as a joke and judging by Grillick's expression, he knew it too.
He took the scroll and placed it in the drawer. “We all are.” When he saw the confused expression on my face, he clarified his statement. “In all my years of scientific research, I have yet to find any evidence of a sentient, all-powerful being in the sky. My point was, we all hold the power of God within ourselves. This is our time to shine and make a difference.” He smiled broadly.
Cantrell's voice rang out over the communication panel on the wall. “Course set for Gliese. Warp engines have been engaged which should put us in their orbit in about fifty-seven hours.”
Grillick pushed the button. “Thank you, Sergeant.”
“So what now?” I asked.
Grillick turned to me and smiled broadly. “Time to make a difference.”
World War Gliese
After our conversation in the lab, I returned to my room, flopped on the bed, and slept. It was a deep, yet troubled sleep. Images of Kedge's broken body haunted me while Satou's gravesite and even Shai's dismembered head made a cameo appearance. The final image was the most disturbing. In it, I was cradling Lianne's torn body with blood streaming down my face. I woke up at once. My heart was pounding and my breathing was reduced to short, choked gasps. I felt something wet streaming down my face. My hands immediately flew to my face, but I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw it was nothing more than sweat.
That was the first time. The second nap was a bit more restful. Only a little. I dreamt of mutants with no faces, of mutants who walked on their hands instead of their feet and others who took pleasure as they chewed on the corpse of Mazu with their belly teeth. I eventually gave up trying to sleep and resigned myself to staring at the passing stars to kill time. Between the sleepless hours and wandering to and from Grog's, I was teetering on the brink of madness. Forty hours into the trip, a knock came at my door as I was in the middle of nibbling on a flame-broiled burger stuffed into some type of pastry, courtesy of Grog.
