Calm, Re’lien. Not a good idea to look tense in front of the natives.
Re’lien closed her eyes and sighed. This was looking to be a boring assignment.
‘You’re awfully calm for an edal in an edal-hating city?’
Re’lien didn’t jump, but she almost. The voice was familiar. From her vision. It was laid-back, but assertive. The type of voice you would want to befriend and follow. Re’lien opened her eyes and turned to the source of the voice. The man from her vision. A human man. Around her age. Faint stubble. Brown hair. Intense eyes.
Re’lien’s heart skipped a beat. It was time. She had spent the last three years preparing for this. She had scored top of her class for this. Etiquette training, stress-hiding, theory upon diplomatic theory. But it all faded away. Re’lien forgot all her training. But she spoke anyway.
‘I am used to edal-hating cities. I understand them. If this wasn’t an edal hating city, I would be quite ill at ease.’
The man looked incredulous, but then laughed. He offered his hand.
‘James Terrin.’
Re’lien accepted. ‘Re’lien en Xerl. So, you would be the Defiant?’
James winced, but repressed it. Re’lien noticed.
‘That’s what people call me. A bit confusing, really. It’s like the head of the Troopers calling himself Trooper. But I didn’t pick the name, and a bit too late to change it.’
‘I like it. From what I’ve briefly heard about the old governor, it seems an appropriate moniker. As good a name for a revolutionary as any.’
‘But revolutions have to end.’
‘Yes, eventually. But is your revolution truly done?’ Re’lien smiled.
James pondered the thought. ‘No. No, it’s not.’
‘With that in mind, I would like to talk to you about your revolution, Defiant…’
‘Please call me James.’
Re’lien gave a small smile. ‘Okay, James. I’d like to know what you mean to accomplish. Commander Yobu assures me that the Defiant are no enemies of Mars, but I would like assurances from you. I need to know that the Defiant aren’t doing anything that goes against the interests of the free races.’
‘Free races? Not just Mars? Not humanity?’
Re’lien raised her eyebrow. A very human expression she had picked up on Mars and through Eri.
‘The purpose of the Troopers is to ensure the freedom of all races that seek freedom. Not just humans. Exanoids, merka, grays, enque…and edal that have seen the light of liberty.’
James laughed, much to Re’lien’s surprise.
‘I never thought of Troopers as freedom fighters when they were shooting at me in alleys.’
‘Shooting at you? Why in Terra’s name would they do that?’
‘Don’t worry. I deserved it,’ James winked. ‘I was a thief on my homeworld. Full-on gangster. Troopers tried to be the law-bringers. Didn’t work out for them till the Xank wiped out my hometown. That’s when I…joined up. Became a tin-man myself. Learnt duty. Learnt honour…’
‘And…what happened after that? Why did you leave the Order?’
‘Officially? Governor Dedelux court marshalled me for reporting that Imperials were plotting to invade the planet. After that, my Trooper comrades and myself sided with my people – the Zonians – to rebel against the corrupt governor and secure the planet before Imperial invasion.’
‘And, why do they call you the Defiant?’
James’ expression soured. ‘Busy-bodies not minding their own damn business.’
Re’lien stifled a laugh. ‘And why do some people whisper that the Defiant is a god?’
That really soured James’ expression. He seemed quite open with his expressions. Honest. He wasn’t a trained diplomat. Definitely not a politician. He sighed and finally responded. ‘Because I’m a warpmancer.’
Re’lien failed to repress her shock. She glanced at his arm. He wore a black-leather glove up to his elbow. It had a metal containment box in its centre. It was crude, but definitely a conduit.
James noticed Re’lien’s expression. ‘Warpmancy is quite rare among my people. Rare enough that some fools got it into their heads that I’m a god.’
‘It has to be more than that,’ Re’lien replied, repressing her surprise. ‘If raw power alone was enough to win over this much admiration, an orbital gunnery officer would have his very own church. You must’ve done more.’
‘Apparently, I have. Fought some Xank. Fought some corrupt Trooper traitors. Fought some Imperials. But, so did everyone else.’
‘You’re awfully humble.’
‘Boasting doesn’t save lives or win wars.’
‘But it can influence an impression. And impressions can be the most important thing.’
James crossed his arms. ‘And what impression do you have of me now?’
Re’lien looked thoughtful and tapped her finger on her lips. She stopped and smiled. ‘That you aren’t the opportunistic warlord my textbooks would have pegged you as.’
‘Well, I’m glad.’ James almost seemed to sigh.
Re’lien felt an amiable air grow between them, but then felt the stares and smelled a distinct lack of cigarette smoke. James also seemed to notice. The clerks were staring.
‘Well, Ms Re’lien, let’s continue this in my office. All official-like. We Zonians may be barbaric, but we’re getting better.’
Re’lien bowed to James’ wisdom and they left the balcony.
James was confused. He looked at Re’lien and his eyes saw the blue skin and pointy ears. But he couldn’t help but see her as human. For all her alien features, James couldn’t help but note that she had green eyes. Dark green eyes. Human eyes.
It hadn’t been as awkward as James had originally feared. He knew he could get on with aliens – like Quok, Molok and Urg’a, but Re’lien wasn’t just an alien. She was an edal. She was the race of his enemy. She was what his people hated. The race that had destroyed his homeworld. But she wore a Trooper uniform. She spoke Standard Terran. She spoke of Terra, for Terra’s sake! She had human mannerisms. Human expressions. Above that, she knew how to carry on a conversation. Seemed sincere. She was an edal, but she seemed human. And that confused James completely. The glares of his countrymen told him to hate and fear, but he couldn’t help but want to be cordial for more than just diplomatic necessity.
As they walked to James’ little used office in Fort Nexus, followed by stares, he couldn’t help but feel a tightness in his chest – and an intense confusion.
The leader of an anti-Imperial army walking with an edal. The irony must have been getting to many of the inhabitants of Fort Nexus. Worry for their leader’s safety. Concern that a vile xeno was walking the halls. And an under-the-surface notion that their leader may be betraying them the way Dedelux had before. James understood the fears, the loathing. But he also knew that he had to rise above that. Zonians had a lot of virtues, and even more vices. As their leader, reluctant or not, he had to exemplify their virtues over the vices.
But it was more than just Re’lien’s human-like nature. James felt a familiarity with her. More than just the good impression of meeting a nice person. It felt as if he had genuinely connected with Re’lien in the past. And he may very well have.
The Devil Child.
That is what the void had said when it had spoken to him, alongside the vision-edal that looked just like Re’lien. Was Re’lien this Devil Child? And was her presence there a sign that she should or shouldn’t be trusted?
James waved his crypto-key in front of his office door and it opened up. He hardly ever used this office. Darren Peterson took care of the affairs of state. James just acted as a figurehead. A moral icon. Until war began again, of course. Then it would be James leading the charge. He would make sure of that.
They entered, and James closed the door behind them. The clerks would be gossiping, like excited zots planning a food heist, right about now. Hopefully, their chittering would be minimally treasonous. James hoped t
hey’d come to their senses and realise he would need to talk to Re’lien, as a diplomat, xeno or not. But he doubted they’d understand at the best of times. Zonians were a blunt people. Occam’s Razor was their philosophy. It was useful, at times. But it also held them back. Zarxan locals were beginning to adopt this Zonian bluntness, unfortunately.
Both James and Re’lien were silent. Their easy banter from before had ceased.
James looked around his office. He had last used it a few days prior. He had been looking through shipment records on weapons and munitions. They didn’t know when the Imperials or Zerian would retaliate, and James didn’t like having to rely on Aegis and Grag-Tec for military supplies. So, the Defiant had been dedicating a large portion of its income on stockpiling military apparatus.
As a result of James’ overseeing the affairs of his military, the office was a mess. Fibre-paper, useful to preventing digital espionage, were interlaced with tabs, empty polystyrene food containers, and artefacts from when this office had belonged to one of Dedelux’s cronies. James had not taken Dedelux’s office at the top of Fort Nexus. He had given that office to Peterson, rather opting for a less lavish office to do his occasional duties. James had not gotten around to redecorating, and the office still possessed the gaudy trophies of the previous inhabitant. Pseudo-gold encrusted vases, a ceremonial sabre with rose-shaped indentations on the blade. A painting of Dedelux himself.
James winced. He really should have cleaned up.
Re’lien proceeded into the room. Her face was blank. She was good at hiding her disdain, but James could see it under the surface.
‘So,’ she began, ‘you’ve been very busy.’
‘I seldom use this office. Please blame the previous denizen for the mess…and the artworks.’
Re’lien looked at the painting of Dedelux. Her mouth twitched. Revulsion or amusement, James was not sure. He couldn’t help but hope that his previously good impression was not being tarnished by the state of his office.
‘Why didn’t you speak to me sooner, James?’ Re’lien asked, leaning down to pick up some papers that had fallen on the floor.
‘Um, uh…’ James struggled to articulate an answer he didn’t have.
‘Reasons of state?’ Re’lien offered, a faint amused smile appearing at the corner of her lip. ‘Or…fear of a xeno?’
‘I wouldn’t say fear.’
‘Then what?’
She had straightened out a pile of papers and was about to throw away some of the empty ramen cups.
‘You don’t need to clean up. You’re a diplomat, not the cleaning-syn.’
Re’lien stopped. ‘Yes. A diplomat.’
She seemed consumed by some sort of reverie. It was almost a mutter. She awoke and looked at James.
‘A diplomat. From Mars. While you have been cordial with me now, I would like an explanation for your tardiness. I know that the Chancellor is your head of government and that your duties are mostly military and ceremonial. I also know that you have spent the time I have been here absent from Fort Nexus. Why? I won’t be offended. I would just like to know so we can clear things up. I would like this to be a professional and fruitful relationship so that we can ensure the good relations between Mars and your rising nation. There is no reason that the Troopers and the Defiant should not be friends. And there is little reason why I cannot represent Mars on this planet, despite my race.’
James sighed, and leant up against the wall, just by the hanging sabre.
‘It’s not your race…well, sure that’s a part of it. It makes things difficult. People see things simply. They don’t see Re’lien. They see an edal. Takes a lot of thinking to see otherwise. And if things were a bit different, I think I wouldn’t be able to see past your skin and ears either.’
‘Then, what’s different for you?’
That I’ve seen you in my dreams. James had a feeling that wouldn’t go down well.
‘If not that I’m a xeno, a hated xeno, then why else delay meeting with me?’
James couldn’t think of any excuses. He opened his mouth to speak.
‘The red and black edal.’
The deep voice was a shock and somewhat of a relief to James, as Krag-Zot appeared, seemingly out of the void. Re’lien, to her credit, didn’t jump, but the appearance of the metal-clad, void black figure did seem to unnerve her.
Krag-Zot stood between them and crossed his thick, armoured arms.
‘James, who might this be?’ Re’lien asked, some trepidation in her voice, but hidden.
‘This is Krag-Zot. He’s my…warpmancy mentor.’
Krag-Zot nodded and presented his massive hand to Re’lien. Her smaller blue hand was engulfed by the metal but came out unscathed.
‘Krag-Zot, is it? What does Krag mean?’
‘It is an honorific among my people. Closest Standard Terran would be lord.’
‘So, your name is roughly Lord Vermin?’
James repressed a snicker.
‘The irony is not lost on me, edal,’ Krag-Zot responded, seriously. ‘You asked why my pupil snubbed you?’
Re’lien nodded. James didn’t like where Krag-Zot was going with this.
‘As much as he and I have reason to be disdainful for your people, I for one recognise that your defection is good enough to prove your hatred of our mutual enemy – the Council. My pupil should feel the same way.’
Re’lien looked to James for confirmation. James shrugged, but Krag-Zot was right. He continued.
‘My pupil may have been acting out of trepidation because last time he met a fellow warpmancer, me, we proceeded to fight to the death.’
‘How is this relevant to me?’
‘You are a warpmancer, too. A strong one. I sense it and my pupil senses it.’
Re’lien incredulity prompted Krag-Zot to lean forward, his masked face emotionless.
‘You are unaware of your power?’
‘My sister recently told me that I’m a warpmancer, but I didn’t think much of it. I grew up as a non-warpmancer. Never trained. Apparently, I do have the knack, but I’ve never tried it out.’
Krag-Zot stood upright. James knew the areq well enough to know that he was probably grinning ear to pointy ear.
‘Then you come at an opportune time. It has been awhile since the glorious Defiant has revised the basics of the art. Please join us. If you are to be an ally, I’d like you to be a strong one.’
Before Re’lien or James could interject, Krag-Zot left the room and indicated for them to follow.
Re’lien looked uncomfortable, glancing at James for some sort of reassurance that he didn’t feel he had yet earned enough to give. He took the lead and followed Krag-Zot out of the office. Re’lien, after clenching her fists and closing her eyes briefly, followed.
Only the occasional guard saw James and Re’lien accompany Krag-Zot into the bowels of Fort Nexus. This was a small mercy to Re’lien, who felt an intense unease. Krag-Zot alone unnerved her. He was an armoured colossus, with a deep voice, and unknown face. James also looked nervous of…something. She hoped he didn’t see her as a threat. She doubted she even was a warpmancer – much less one that could challenge a battle hardened one like him.
But her actions on Mars. The people she had killed…
Maybe, I am a warpmancer.
They arrived in a dark and almost empty geradite-cased room. Krag-Zot flipped a switch and the dimness was replaced with a flood of fluorescent lighting. The geradite ceilings and floor were a uniform dark grey. Some discarded furniture and boxes lay sparsely around the room.
‘I took the liberty of bringing your conduit,’ Krag-Zot explained.
‘What?!’ James exclaimed before Re’lien could.
Krag-Zot cocked his head. ‘She needs it to train.’
‘Did you go through her possessions?’
‘Yes,’ he answered, flatly.
‘Don’t ever do that again! It is a violation of privacy and…just don’t do it.’
<
br /> Krag-Zot shrugged and passed Re’lien her conduit glove. She had never worn it. To her, it was to be just a memento from her sister. She chose not to scold Krag-Zot herself. James seemed offended enough for both of them. Re’lien put on the conduit. It fit snuggly onto her hand and arm. Her sister and her were similar sizes.
‘Now what?’ Re’lien asked, conduit secured.
James withdrew a capsule from his belt and passed it. Re’lien accepted it and opened it like a soda bottle. She was immediately giddy as she opened it. Not weakness. Not sickness. But an overwhelming of the senses. The blue glow from within was like smelling, tasting and seeing the most beautiful meal. Absorbing all of its fineness in one second. One was meant to eat and digest slowly. If absorbed immediately, the finest meal became a drug. A heady, nauseating, overpowering euphoria – and sickness.
‘I felt the same the first time. You get used to it,’ James said. His eyes showed concern. Re’lien must’ve let her guard down.
She mentally scolded herself. A diplomat was meant to look impartial, witty, approachable – but never weak, unless the situation warranted feigned weakness. But it was too late now.
‘Insert the crystal into your conduit. Hold the capsule towards the crystal chamber.’
Re’lien did as Krag-Zot commanded. He continued speaking as she fumbled to pour the contents of the capsule into her sister’s conduit.
‘I’m not sure about your warp-theory training. In essence, all you need to know is that to use your powers effectively, you need warp-crystals. Otherwise, you are using the bare minimum of your abilities.’
‘Think of warpmancers as a gun,’ James offered, a nervous smile as he tried to help explain. ‘Crystals are the bullets, but bullets are nothing without the gun. Even without bullets, a gun can still be used as a club. A much more effective club than fists. But it becomes most useful when it has ammo.’
‘Always wanted to be a gun,’ Re’lien snorted.
The lines on the conduit began to glow a faint and then ever brightening blue. It was beautiful and Re’lien was entranced for a moment.
This was my sister’s conduit.
The conduit she had died with. The conduit that had helped bring her back to life. The conduit which had been used in the Godkiller Project. The conduit that had failed to slay Grexus and eventually resulted in Kei’s death. Re’lien simultaneously wanted to rip it off and hold it close.
Ascension Page 15
