A Dreamer’s Knight:
Machinations
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2010 by Michael James Wilbur
Cover
art Copyright 2009 Julia
Tuason,
A true friend of the Elsewhere
Incorporate.
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Table of Contents
Foreword – The Best Intentions
Chapter 1 – Restless
Chapter 2 – Lucky
Chapter 3 – Slamm
Chapter 4 – The New Plan
Chapter 5 – Preparations
Chapter 6 – Plan B
Chapter 7 – Technobabble
Chapter 8 – Cheers
Chapter 9 – Villainy
Chapter 10 – It Hits the Fan
Chapter 11 – Anchors Away
Chapter 12 – The Bad Guys
Chapter 13 – The Eternians
Chapter 14 – The Eternian Star
Chapter 15 – Highway Hijinks
Chapter 16 – Separate Ways
Chapter 17 – Old Wounds
Chapter 18 – The Amplifier
Chapter 19 – Rescue and Escape
Epilogue – Not-so-smooth landing
Foreword
The Best Intentions
In my years as a Dreamer, I’ve noticed quite a bit of controversy regarding the existence of the Elsewhere Incorporate, at least on worlds where the Elsewhere’s existence is well known.
I suppose this was to be expected; we are, after all, a complex group of individuals. We can alter the fabric of the mainstream with a mere thought, travel through the timestream at will (though accuracy tends to be an issue), and have the unique ability to blur the boundary between the mainstream and the dream realm.
Some believe we Dreamers have ulterior motives. Some believe we receive some kind of power boost through our actions; that we are somehow feeding off the happiness we create. Others think that we may be nice at the moment, but ultimately are out to destroy or conquer the universe. Still others think Dreamers are demons who set up Faustian deals with the people we help.
While I could go through each and refute each of these theories, when it comes down to it, we neither need nor want the approval of the mainstream to continue helping it thrive and prosper. Besides, most of these claims originated from religious zealots who view anything even remotely magical as the work of whatever boogeyman their religion supports. I find this more than a little hypocritical, seeing most of these religions have messianic figures who are obviously practitioners of some kind of magic. Walking on water, navigating through the timestream, and even flying are considered okay as long as they are called ‘miracles’ instead of ‘magic’. Oh, well. ‘Typical norm logic’, as Two would say.
I suppose this still leaves the question of why; why do Dreamers do what we do? I can’t give you an honest answer, because I honestly don’t know what motivates the other Dreamers. It is a rather personal question, but does the motivation truly matter as long as the end result is good? Must a person claim guidance from a deity to do the right thing?
-Alan Tryth
Chronicler of the Elsewhere Incorporate
Chapter 1
Restless
It was a beautiful night in the great forests of Ircandesta; the sky was clear, the moons were bright, and the air was cool and dry. The wind whispered softly as it wove through the folded leaves of the massive chronoan trees surrounding a tranquil lake.
A young tigreth woman, no older than fifteen, stepped hesitantly from the cover of the trees, covering her naked body with her folded clothes as best as she could. Although the color of her fur was hard to make out, the light of the moons caught on the white patch of fur that ran from her stomach, across her chest, and just over her nose.
Her cat-like ears twitched as she listened for sounds that might indicate someone nearby, but there was only the whispering forest, the still lake, and the bright, star-lit sky.
Satisfied, she set her clothes on a smooth rock near the edge of the lake. With a final glance at the forest behind her, she stepped into the tranquil waters.
“Thank the Creator …” she breathed as the cool waters washed over her road-worn feet, then her legs, “I feel like I haven’t had a bath in ages.”
The young tigreth maiden waded into the lake until the water came up to her stomach. She hummed softly as she began to clean herself.
As she started to wash her hair, her ears twitched. She froze for a moment before looking around only to find the lake as empty as ever.
After a few moments, the tigreth maiden let out a light-hearted laugh. “I’m getting paranoid. If I don’t watch it, I might start talking to myself.”
She started washing her hair again, only to stop a few seconds later. After a few moments of looking around only to find herself alone, she looked up.
The stars were shining brightly, as were the three of Vinta’s moons that were currently visible. After a few seconds, however, it was clear that one of the stars was much brighter than the other. In fact, it was growing brighter by the second.
The tigreth maiden stared at the star a few moments, her ears twitching at the now clearly audible whistling. As the whistling sound grew louder, the tigreth maiden began to back instinctively towards the shore. She wanted to run, but her innate curiousity made it impossible to tear her gaze away from the falling object.
A strange wind began to blow around the lake. It started as a whisper, but in a matter of moments grew into a gust that shook the limbs of all the trees.
A particularly old limb was blown free and hit the ground with a crash that brought Teria back to her senses. Finally tearing her eyes away from the shining light, the tigreth maiden turned and hurried towards the shore. The wind stirred up the water of the lake, making it hard to keep her footing.
She risked a glance back only to find the light extremely close; it shone brightly as it sped straight towards the lake, a bright trail of light in its wake. Desperation on her face, the tigreth maiden fought through the rippling water and rushing wind.
The brilliant light slammed into the lake just as the girl leapt from the edge of the lake and landed with feline precision behind the rock where her clothes lay. The impact sent water in all directions; fortunately, the girl had the forethought to grab her clothes before they were soaked.
As the wind died down and the surface of the lake began to calm, the tigreth maiden stepped tentatively out from behind the rock. She clutched her clothes to her chest as she approached the edge of the lake, her eyes searching for whatever had just interrupted her bath.
Something broke through the surface of the lake. After a few moments, it became clear that it wasn’t a something; it was a someone. By the light of the moons, she could make out the smooth-skinned face of a young galden man, apparently unconscious.
Dropping her clothes, Teria rushed into the lake and swam towards the still figure as fast as she could. She grabbed his arms, but abruptly let go when her hands touched metal.
“He’s a scrap.” She whispered, looking with interest at the young man’s metal encased arms.
Shaking her head, she grabbed him by the shoulders and dragged him to the shore of the lake.
She pressed an ear to his chest and listened for sounds of breathing. Hearing none, she put both hands on his chest and pushed hard once … twice … three times. Tilting his head back, she put her mouth to his and blew as hard as she could.
He still wasn’t breathing. Worried, the tigreth started to blow another breath into the boy when he coughed … right into her open mouth.
“Ew!” She fell back, wiping her mouth as the boy sputtered back to life.
He pushed himself over and promptly retched lake water. The tigreth maiden patted him on the back as he fought to regain his breath.
“Thank you …” he breathed once he got the water out of his lungs. As he looked up at his savior, his cheeks went bright red. “I-I … I ….”
“What?” Looking down, she realized that in her hurry to help the boy, she had forgotten that she was still naked.
With a yelp, she darted back behind the rock and started clawing around for where she had set her clothes, forgetting she had dropped them by the lake.
The young man picked her clothes off the ground and approached the tigreth maiden slowly, careful to keep the rock between them. His eyes averted and his cheeks crimson, he held the clothes out to her. “Are these yours?”
She kept her eyes on his as she stepped out from behind the rock and snatched the clothes from his grasp. Once she had darted back behind the rock, she said, “Thanks. What’s your name, anyway?”
“My name is …” The boy’s face fell. He ran a metal hand through his long unkempt hair, looking pained.
Slipping her shirt on over her damp fur, she asked, “What’s a matter? Don’t tell me you have amnesia …”
The boy shook his head. “It’s not that. I just …”
She gave an impatient snort as she tied her shirt into a makeshift top. “Do you know who you are or not?”
“I’m Michael Gineros.”
“Your name’s Gineros? You a sentient or something?”
“What’s a sentient?” The boy asked, looking perplexed.
“How could you not know what a sentient is? Are you from another planet or something?”
Hearing nothing but silence, the tigreth gave an exasperated snort and stepped out from behind the rock to get a look at the young man.
He was looking at Everblue, an odd lookof wonder on his face.
“What?” She asked, looking up at the moon, “What’s wrong with you?”
“I think you’re right …”
“Of course I’m right. Wait, what was I right about?”
“I think I’m from another planet.”
The girl didn’t seem perturbed by this, probably because she had witnessed his highly unusual arrival. She sighed and rubbed her eyes. “Great. I got peeped by an alien.”
“I’m not a … I didn’t …” the boy flushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to …“
“To fall out of the sky into the lake so that I had to haul your butt out and give you mouth-to-mouth?” A grin slid across her face. “So, how was it anyway?’
“How was what?”
“Your first kiss.”
“I …” the boy’s whole face went red. Coughing, he asked, “So what planet is this, anyway?”
“Vinta. It’s a nice place.” Her face fell. “Well, usually. It kinda sucks when your parents are on your case, y’know?”
“I never knew my parents.” The boy said, sounding a little sad. “The closest thing I ever had to a family was my team, but I guess that doesn’t matter anymore.”
Teria leaned towards him, her hands behind her back as she peered at up at his downcast face. “You wanna talk about it?”
“Not really.”
After a few moments, she kissed him on the cheek.
He looked up with surprise in his eyes.
“Life can suck sometimes,” She said kindly, “but you can’t let it keep you down.”
“You’re right.” the boy admitted, “But …”
“But? But? There’s no but. You just got kissed by a beautiful lady twice; isn’t that enough to cheer you up?”
The boy let out a light-hearted chuckle. Rubbing his spiky hair with a metal hand, he said, “I guess the only thing to do is to start over again.”
“That’s the spirit!” The girl gave the boy a hearty smack on his back. “And you can start by being my protector.”
The boy gave her an incredulous look. “Excuse me?”
“My protector. You know, my bodyguard. You weren’t just going to leave me out here alone, were you?”
“O-of course not, but I don’t even know your name.”
She thrust her hand at him. “Teria Celes Myssohn.”
“Michael Gineros,” He said as he shook her hand, “Call me Mike.”
She gave him a crooked grin. “Mike, huh? Strange name, but it’s got a good sound to it.”
The world began to blur. The night sky melted away into the beautiful twilight of the dream realm. The lake vanished, replaced with the edges of the floating island. The Chronoan trees faded until one remained, which slowly shrank into a single oak tree.
One sat up suddenly, accidentally knocking Nixil off his lap.
“Gyaah!” Nixil bounced off the ground like a small rubber ball. After recovering from the initial shock, he was in One’s face, wings flapping angrily. “What’s the big idea?”
“Sorry, Nixil.” One said apologetically, “I was having a strange dream.”
“Of course you were dreaming! This is the dream realm! Just being here is technically dreaming, you moron!” With an angry snort, Nixil flew off towards the Solarius, the sun of the Dream realm.
Sighing, One leaned back against the trunk of his oak tree. The dream … no, the memory had played out in his eyes like a reel from a movie. He was regaining his memories, but how? Luck had the ring; was she doing this for some reason?
He had vaguely remembered falling into a lake during his first visit to Vinta, but he didn’t remember it actually being Yuna Lake. He certainly hadn’t remembered that Teria had been there to fish him out.
Just thinking about their first encounter brought a chuckle to his lips; she hadn’t changed a bit since then, at least not personality-wise.
“I wonder if she’s okay …” One mused.
“What about Luck?”
“I like her. I like her a lot, but …” One stopped abruptly and turned to see just who he was talking to.
A black-robed figure stepped out from the shadows cast by the oak tree. One was on his feet in an instant, Headache materializing on his arms.
The figure lowered his gaze to the units encasing One’s arms. “Ah, One’s infamous Headache. The grapple beam still giving you problems?”
“Who are you?” One demanded.
“Forgive me; I am told that I have something of an unsettling manner.” The figure pulled off its hood, revealing a surprisingly youthful face and a head of long, white hair. “As you can see, I am unarmed.”
“That doesn’t mean much in the dream realm.”
The robed boy let out a laugh. “True enough. However, I give you my word I’m not here to give you any trouble.”
Lowering Headache slightly, One asked, “How did you get to my nexus point?”
“You invited me. Indirectly, of course. You can call me Mixe, by the way.” Mixe bowed to One. “And you are the Dreamer known as Narrator Number One.”
“Are you a Dreamer?” One asked.
Mixe shrugged, but said nothing.
Chuckling, One lowered Headache. “I thought I was supposed to be the cryptic one.”
“Actually, you’ve always struck me as rather straight-forward.” Mixe sat down and rested his back against the tree. “You see a problem, and you hit it dead on, no delay. I know some consider it a flaw, but I’ve always believed it your greatest strength.”
One wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he just sat down beside Mixe.
After a few moments, the boy said, “The dream realm is as lovely as ever, I see. I’ve always loved the perpetual twilight.”
When One didn’t respond, Mixe chuckled. “Now, now; it’s not like you to be so quiet.”
“No one was supposed to know where I was. Even if they did, I don’t let just anyone into my nexus point.”
The boy raised his eyebrows. “Really? Then I guess I’m flattered. I love what you’ve done with the tree.”
One opened his mouth for an angry reply, but Mixe quickly raised his hand. “I’m not here to bother you; I just thought you might appreciate a friendly ear, especially after what happened with Luck.
“How do you know about Luck?”
“Ukaroh.”
A pang shot through One’s heart at the mention of his ex-girlfriend. “Ukaroh? You’ve seen her?”
“Indeed. She didn’t recognize me either, but that’s hardly a surprise. She’s still keeping tabs on you, y’know.”
“How …”
“How is she?” Mixe asked, raising an eyebrow.
One nodded silently.
Mixe considered a moment. “She’s definitely gotten better at guitar. She dyed her hair blue; now she looks like someone out of one of Wong’s anime shows. Oh, and she’s still upgrading that old motorcycle of hers with any technology she thinks will make it faster … or more dangerous. It’s hard to tell with Ukaroh.”
“I’m glad to hear she’s doing well.” One said, but it sounded forced even to him. When he had refused to leave the Elsewhere with her, she had left him without a second glance; even after a few decades, it still stung.
They watched the clouds in silence for a few moments.
One let out a sigh. “What should I do?”
“About Luck? To be honest, I’m not sure. Your situation is … complicated.”
When it became clear that Mixe wasn’t going to continue, One let out a snort. “Thanks for that, Mixe. Here I was getting worried.”
“It is a rather personal affair.” Mixe said in mild tones, “If Luck doesn’t want to be found, let’s face it; you aren’t going to find her. If you can’t find her, there’s not much of a relationship going on, is there?”
“So, what?” One asked, “Do I just sit around and wait for her to come to me?”
Mixe simply shrugged.
Shaking his head, One said, “Something about the Breath of Fire scared her, but why?”
“Maybe it just scared her. It is an intimidating machine.”
“Pssh. Luck’s faced demons and worse. A broken dreadnaught wouldn’t have bothered her.”
“Perhaps it wasn’t the Breath of Fire that scared her, but rather what the Breath of Fire represents.”
One glanced at Mixe curiously. “And what does the Breath of Fire represent?”
“What indeed.” After a few moments of silence, Mixe stood up. “Well, I’d better be on my way.”
“Wait a sec!” One scrambled to his feet. “If you know something about this, just tell me already!”
“It’s not for me to tell, One. Don’t worry, though; I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually.” With a final bow, Mixe vanished.
One stared glumly at the space where Mixe had been standing. Something about Mixe seemed oddly familiar, though he couldn’t quite place it.
“Well,” he muttered, turning back at his tree, “I’m not getting any rest until I get this settled, and I won’t get it settled until Luck resurfaces.”
The Breath of Fire crossed his mind. It was badly in need of repair after the thrashing he had given it during his last assignment. It could make for a nice distraction.
One shifted out of the Dream Realm, appearing directly inside his personal workshop. His teleportation was perfect … well, almost. He hopped off the workbench and started walking to the back of the workshop where his two dreadnaughts silently awaited his arrival. The Final Fantasy stood silently in the bay on the right, while the dragon-esque Breath of Fire lay in the other, its dismembered wings lying nearby.
“Armor plating on the chest and arms is gonna need replacing.” One muttered as he surveyed the Final Fantasy for damage. “Other than that, she held up pretty well.”
As he strapped on his tek-boots, his mind turned to Mikaen, the wayward knight who had literally dropped out of the sky while One was taking a nap on the world of Vinta. The poor guy had been on the edge: no family, only a few friends, no place to truly call his own. Worst of all, Mikaen’s fiancée had recently been killed.
Of course, that was before One started poking around. Now Mikaen had a nice home in Homestead, a whole slew of friends, and a pretty tigreth girlfriend.
“Or have you proposed yet?” One mused to himself.
A hologram of a young girl appeared, a curious expression on her translucent face. “Are you talking to me?”
“Just thinking out loud, Rebecca. I was wondering if Mikaen and Tirinia are engaged yet.”
She shrugged indifferently. “Meh. I never was much for the wetware concept of romance. You need a hand?”
“Nah, I got it.” Rebecca’s skrievers could repair the dreadnaughts in less than an hour, but One preferred to do the work himself, much to Rebecca’s chagrin.
“Hmpf. Fine; I guess I’ll just activate the platforms and let you get to it then.” Her hologram vanished, a distinctly annoyed look on her face.
One locked the last strap of his tek-boots in place as the lowest platform rose into place. Hopping on, he began a more thorough examination of his dreadnaught’s damage.
He ran a metal hand along one of several gashes in the right leg of the Final Fantasy. “Ouch. Still, easy enough to fix, I suppose.”
While helping Mikaen, One and the young knight had come across the Breath of Fire, a combat-model dreadnaught. Although the Final Fantasy wasn’t a combat model, One had been victorious ... though now he had two giant machines to maintain.
The plating on the chest of the Final Fantasy had taken the brunt of the damage. After shearing off the rivet heads with Headache’s fusion cutter, One pried one of the chest plates off and let it fall to the floor with a loud clang.
A few moments later, the door to the main part of One’s floor burst open. Two rushed through, a croquet mallet in hand and a bottle in the other.
Two walked unsteadily towards the dreadnaught bays, mallet at the ready. “Come out of there, Wong! There’s no use hiding!”
“Nice mallet.” One called out, smirking. “Very intimidating.”
Two peered at him; even from a distance, One could see that his friend’s eyes were bloodshot. “Oh. It’s just you.”
One hopped off the platform and approached his best friend. “What’s going on, man?”
“It’s Wong. He keeps messing around with the Breath of Fire; I’ve had to chase him out of here three times today.” Shaking his head, Two asked, “What about you? I figured you were gone for at least a year.”
“How long was I away?” One asked curiously.
“About two months. I started to go looking for you, but I figured you wanted some alone time. Besides, I’m sure you didn’t want to deal with my protégé.”
Two continued to complain, but One wasn’t listening. As he began to return to his repair work, his mind was on Luck. Teach had promised to tell Luck where One was hiding, and the elder Dreamer was usually reliable in such things. One had left his nexus point open for her, which on reflection was probably how Mixe got there. Two months was a long time for her not to have joined him.
One’s gaze fell on the Breath of Fire. Mixe suggested that the Breath of Fire could have represented something … but what? It was a broken dreadnaught that looked a lot like a dragon. It could symbolize the Rangers who built it, or Earth on a very basic level, but One couldn’t see how either of those would make Luck run off on him.
“… and in the shower, no less! Fate’s got enough reasons to beat the crap outta me without Wong playing the instigator! I …” Two paused, his eyes narrowing. “One? One, are you even listening to me?”
One shook his thoughts clear. “Sorry. You were saying something about instigating something between Fate and Wong?”
Two rolled his eyes. “Ah, forget it.”
“I’m sorry, Two.” One sighed. “I’m guess I’m still a little distracted.”
“I can tell. You just removed a perfectly good sheet of armor plating.”
One’s eyes darted up to the plate he had just pried off. Sure enough, it was undamaged. Rubbing his temples, he muttered, “Nice. Good job, One.”
A mischievous smile crossed Two’s face. “This distraction wouldn’t have anything to do with the Lady Luck, would it?”
“Have you seen her?”
“You mean you haven’t?” Two looked genuinely surprised. “I figured she was with you. Sorry, man; I haven’t seen her since before you left.”
One sighed. “Maybe Teach or Karma has …”
A loud clang shot from the direction of the Final Fantasy. Two slapped One on the arm. “See? See what I’m talkin’ about? I bet Wong’s over there trying to install an arcade cabinet into the cockpit or something.”
One and Two ran towards the direction of the noise. Sure enough, they found Wong standing near the Breath of Fire.
Two brandished his mallet as though to hit Wong, but One caught his arm. “Wait, Two! Look at his face!”
Wong’s face was pale as a sheet. There was no trace of his usual, fool-hardy smile either; he looked positively spooked.
The reason was obvious a few moments later. An overpowering acrid stench issued forth from the mass of bones and charred flesh that occupied the pilot’s chair of the Breath of Fire’s open cockpit.
“Ugh!” One covered his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt to block out the foul smell, “What the hell?”
“It wasn’t me!” Wong said, his voice a high-pitched squeak, “I just wanted to look at the control panel, so I sorta hacked into the Dreadnaught’s systems and opened the cockpit, and there was totally a melted guy there!”
“A likely story!” Two moved to grab the young Dreamer, but One stopped him.
“He didn’t do this.” One told them.
Wong and Two looked at him, equally surprised.
Still covering his face, One peered at the body. There were dozens of small holes in the body, each barely a millimeter in diameter. His suspicions were concerned when he found a wire leading from the console jabbed into what had been the pilot’s neck.
“Impulse control system.” Glancing at his fellow Dreamers, One said, “The computer tried to create a neural link with the pilot. Without the right equipment or a datajack, it essentially ripped out his nervous system.”
“And that melted his body?” Two asked incredulously.
“No, but with no life signs in the cockpit, the Breath of Fire shut off all the shielding to preserve power, including the heat shield that protects the pilot from the power core. Do you know how much heat the generator that powers this thing puts off?”
Two winced. “Ugh. Sucks to be him. Hey, wait! If the pilot was fried, how was the Breath of Fire still able to function?”
“Like I said, it assimilated his nervous system, including his brain.” One gestured to the body of the Breath of Fire. “It basically pulled out his brain in data format and put it in the Breath of Fire’s artificial brain.”
“That thing has a brain?” Wong shuddered. “Eww!”
“It’s artificial, Wong … like a computer.” Tapping the datajack on the side of his neck, One continued, “The ICS is supposed to bridge with the pilots mind, creating a constant stream of data between the pilot and the dreadnaught.”
Looking back at the pilot’s remains, One said, “It’s not made to hold the entire contents of someone’s mind, though. No wonder the Breath of Fire went berserk; the pain of the extraction coupled with the compression to fit inside the artificial brain would drive anyone nuts.”
One tapped the blackened console thoughtfully. It was impossible to determine the race of the pilot; what was left of the corpse was blackened beyond recognition, its clothes crumbled to ash.
There was no real reason to look into it. After all, One knew it was most likely a member of either the Ronisgald Security Force or the Celestial Church. Still, there was something about the body that struck One as suspect. Though he couldn’t put his finger on what, he knew someone who could.
Turning back to his friends, One asked, “Anyone seen Captain Morgan lately?”
The Dreamer known as Captain Morgan is a bit of an odd duck, so to speak. He may not be as odd as Wong Fo-lee, but he’s definitely one of the stranger inhabitants of the Elsewhere Mansion. He is also the Elsewhere’s resident doctor and biologist.
When he was just a Sleeper, Captain Morgan (or rather, Morgan Nathaniel Upshire) was groomed for the medical profession from the moment he first learned to read. Private schools, special tutors, and endless tomes dominated his childhood. He grew up far too quickly and settled into the life that had been orchestrated for him.
His lost childhood always bothered him, and naturally manifested in his hobbies. Once his practice had netted him a sizeable bank account, he used a large chunk of his money to build an authentic Spanish Galleon which he named the S.S. Popehat. On the outside, it was a faithful and sea-worthy replica of an ancient pirate vessel. On the inside, it was a technological marvel, both for medicine and for sailing.
As his obsession grew, he moved his offices inside the ship. The children loved him. The parents shook their heads at the childishness of it all.
Then Morgan became a Dreamer. For some, it is a solemn moment. For others, it is more like an epiphany. For Morgan, it was as though his childhood had been given a second chance. One day, as the last few families left his office and headed to their cars, Morgan and the S.S. Popehat weighed anchor and set sail into the Atlantic Ocean. This was quite a feat for a clinic that was based in the suburbs.
The Popehat appeared inside the Elsewhere Mansion a few weeks later, sailing on an endless sea located in one of the Elsewhere’s many grey rooms. Since then, the S.S. Popehat and Captain Morgan have been a part of the Elsewhere Incorporate.
One took a moment to get his sea-legs after walking onto the deck of the S.S. Popehat; stepping out from a structurally sound hallway onto a gently rocking ship can be a little disorienting.
He glanced around for Captain Morgan, but the nautical Dreamer was nowhere to be seen.
“Probably up in the crow’s nest.” One muttered, peering up at the crow’s nest.
The door to the captain’s cabin burst open. Out strode a boy no older than eight years old, dressed in full pirate regalia including a hook, peg-leg, and colorful parrot perched atop his pirate-captain hat.
“Arg!” The boy shouted, “It’s a landlubber!”
One rubbed his eyes, muttering, “Oh, lord …”
“Lay your booty on the deck, you scurvy dog!” The boy pulled a wobbly old cutlass from its battered sheath and took a few wild swings in One’s general direction.
Sighing, One lifted one Headache-encased arm and smacked the weapon from the would-be pirate’s hand. It flew through the air in a wide arc and hit the deck point first.
Captain Morgan pouted. “Oh, come on! You’re such a damp cloth.”
“We can cross swords later, captain. I’ve got a bit of a mystery on my hands that I’d like your help with … if you’re not too busy, that is.”
“Aha! Another grand adventure, filled with treasure and wenches, no doubt! The S.S. Popehat is ready to set sail the moment you give the word!”
Sighing, One said, “Look, as funny as this is, I need you in doctor mode right now.”
“Of course!” Captain Morgan snapped his fingers. In a matter of moments, he went from a boy-pirate to a boy in a white lab-coat and a pair of spectacles on the tip of his nose … and a jaunty pirate hat with a red parrot perched on top.
Sighing again, One asked, “Is the hat really necessary?”
“No time for questions! Quick, to my office!”
One followed Captain Morgan into the cabin. The moment he passed through the doorway, One found himself standing in a pristine medical facility. Everything was clean and shiny; the exact opposite of what you’d expect after long-term exposure to the salt air.
Taking another moment to adjust to the change (the medical bay was well insulated from the movement of the ship), One hurried over to where Captain Morgan was preparing.
“Is my patient here yet?” he asked, pulling on a set of rubber gloves.
“One moment. One held his hand out towards the nearest table. The burnt corpse of the dreadnaught pilot appeared a moment later.
When Captain Morgan turned around and saw his ‘patient’, he froze.
“My lad, “ he said, putting an arm around One’s shoulder, “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but there’s nothing I can do; he is, as we say in the medical profession, dead as a dodo.”
“I know he’s dead.” One replied, suppressing a laugh, “I just need to know what he was.”
Captain Morgan looked at the corpse, his interest renewed. “Given the bone and teeth structures, I’m guessing he’s human, galden, or tylaen. This basic form’s quite common, isn’t it? Of course, with this much tissue damage, I’m not jumping to any conclusions.”
He picked up a scalpel from an instrument tray and started poking at the remains.
Feeling suddenly sick, One turned around, saying, “Will this take awhile?”
Ripping out a burnt chunk of flesh, Captain Morgan muttered, “Hmm. Could be a lung. Could be a liver. Yeah, this will definitely take awhile.”
“I’ll stop by later, then. I’ve got someone I want to check up on anyway.”
Teria snapped awake as Kajex slammed his fist against the table.
“We can’t just let this slide!” the sentient prince shouted, his eyes literally red. “Ronisgald must answer for this affront to us all!”
Sighing, Jyle replied for the fourth time, “We have no way of knowing whether or not the kidnapping was a government operation.”
Teria let out a snort and laid her head back on her folded arms; she had heard this argument three times already: someone would say that Ronisgald should be held accountable, to which someone would quote some obscure passage of the All Nations Alliance Charter. The two would go back and forth until most of the council on their feet and screaming at each other until Jyle called everyone back to order.
There was no argument that Galdens were responsible for the incident at the ravine, nor that Ronisgald owed the rest of Vinta an explanation (especially seeing as they didn’t bother sending a delegation for the Council), but no one seemed to be able to decide what they should do about it.
Kajex suggested nothing less than all-out war, while Counciller Dreas of the Cleftan Region was in favor of a more economic punishment; embargoes and the like. King Iniagus of Wenapaj felt that since no harm had come to those kidnapped, everything was fine. Shae, delegate of Rimstak and one of those who had been captured by the galden force, didn’t want to act at all until it was discovered whether the Galdens encountered at the ravine were acting as part of Ronisgald or as a rogue group.
Teria’s attention had started wandering during the second cycle of this argument. She was about as interested in politics as a durien was in table manners.
From the looks of it, she wasn’t the only one who felt that way; Mikaen and Tirinia had stopped paying attention to the proceedings, though Teria suspected this had more to do with their recent engagement than the boring nature of politics. They sat close, their whispers barely audible. Every so often, Tirinia would blush and let out a hushed giggle.
It was so good to see Tirinia happy. For awhile there, Teria thought her sister would be too shy to ever even try to find a husband. Her eyes caught momentarily on the engagement pendant Mikaen had given Tirinia; a crystalline seed from the chronoan tree that housed Muonsol’s royalty.
Councilor Dreas hit the table hard, jarring Teria from her thoughts. She wasn’t terribly familiar with the Cleftan Region (small surprise as it was over two continents away from Longshore) but she was always tickled by the way they dressed. Both representatives were covered head to toe with all manner of clothing so that not even an inch of skin was visible. They even wore tinted goggles to cover their eyes.
Dreas rose to his feet, the colorful plumage of his turban bobbing with every movement of his head. “Enough of this pointless debate! Even if the galden government wasn’t behind the attack, there were galden soldiers involved. In the very least, President Jures should apologize for his rogue soldiers.”
“Triumvate Dreas, “ Jyle said, massaging his temples, “By no means am I trying to trivialize the actions of the galden nation; the kidnapping of the Council members was an attack on us all … or perhaps you didn’t know that my daughter had been taken as well?”
Dreas was silent for a moment. Teria wondered if he (or she … it was hard to tell with Cleftans) was too stunned to speak.
“I did not know that.” Dreas sat back down. “My apologies.”
“Then I hope you know that I want answers as much as the rest of you. However, blithely accusing another nation of deliberate sabotage is no small matter, and as I’m sure you all know.”
Tirinia let out another giggle loud enough to draw attention from the other delegates. She blushed crimson while Mikaen smiled innocently.
Jyle frowned at them, saying, “As all of you who’ve been paying attention know, relations with Ronisgald have always been strained. We have to handle this very delicately.”
Teria yawned loud enough to catch everyone’s gaze. Letting her head rest on her arms, she asked, “Are we done yet?”
Flushing, Jyle began, “This is not a laughing matter.”
“The situation? No. The endless rounds of arguing and bickering about treaties and honor? It isn’t funny, but it’s definitely boring.” Teria glanced around the room, particularly at Dreas and Kajex. They both flushed.
“Do you have a suggestion?” Jyle asked, looking insulted.
Teria gave him a nonchalant shrug. “Send someone to go check out what’s going on over there … subvertly, of course. Sneak in, get information, and get out. If nothing’s going on, then we’re in the clear. If it’s something else, knowing their plan would give us a definite edge.”
“Spying on another country?” said King Iniagus, his magnificent red mustache quivering at the very thought. “My dear kitten, that would be a clear violation of section 3, article 2 of the All Nations Alliance Charter.”
“Well, what would you suggest?” Teria asked, bristling a little over being called ‘kitten’, “Sit here on our collective asses and wait for them to try something else?”
Shaking his head, Jyle said, “Without clear evidence that the Ronisgald Government was behind the kidnapping …”
“Here we go again.” Shaking her head, Teria stood and headed for the door. “I’m gonna go get lunch.”
Jyle stammered, “Wait! You can’t just …”
Opening the door, Teria glanced back at him over her shoulder. “If you manage to quit squabbling long enough to actually decide something, send someone to find me, ‘kay? Thanks.”
She slammed the door before he could respond. Someone nearby started clapping. Glancing around, she noticed Maxim Windstar leaning against the nearby wall, a small handheld game tucked beneath his arm as he applauded her.
Maxim was a strapping fellow, mostly due to his cybernetic legs and arm. Teria didn’t know why he had to have been so heavily augmented, but it didn’t seem like a particularly polite thing to ask.
“Good show, Teria.” He commented, going back to his game. “Sure glad I don’t have to be in there.”
Teria snorted in response, her tail flicking behind her. “I’m beginning to see why mom and dad were so eager to pass this onto me”
“It wasn’t just you. Pretty much every country sent the next generation this year.” A grin spread across his face. “I graciously allowed my brother to represent Jai Vye.”
“I can imagine how thrilled he must have been.” Teria said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “If anyone comes looking for me, I’ll be raiding the kitchen.”
She walked away, shaking her head. Councils, delegates, galden soldiers digging up dreadnaughts: she was starting to miss the good old days where her biggest worry was preparing for the Longshore Brawl.
Mikaen and Tirinia caught up with Teria a few minutes later.
“I was wondering when you were gonna get sick of it.” Teria commented with her arms behind her head as they approached.
“They called a recess.” said Mikaen, his arm around Tirinia’s shoulder. “Nice exit, by the way.”
“Yeah, well … politics aren’t my thing. Give me a few soldiers that need a good smack upside the head, and I’m set. All that page thirteen, sub-paragraph bureaucratic bullcrap bores the hell outta me.” Teria shrugged, smiling. “At least you two seemed to be enjoying yourselves.”
“Mikaen was telling me some stories about his friends in the Knights of the Star.” Tirinia said, “Mostly about Jyle and one of his old girlfriends.”
Mikaen smiled. “Jade Siercka. Jade and Jyle were always a good conversation topic at the Knight’s Headquarters back in Misakren. They were always breaking up … very loudly, I might add.”
“I can believe it.” Teria replied, glancing back in the general direction of the Council chamber.
“We were gonna get some lunch in the marketplace.” Tirinia said, “Mikaen needs to do a little shopping.”
Mikaen glanced back at his wings, which flexed slightly as he commented, “None of my clothes fit anymore.” Shaking his head, he asked, “You wanna come with?”
Teria shook her head, a crooked grin on her face. “Ah, you two go on ahead. I’d just get in the way.”
“Come on, Teria.” Mikaen persisted, “We’re going to lunch, my treat. Besides, I’m sure you have a few stories about you and your sister that I’d just love to hear.”
“Well, there was that time during the Solstice festival …” Teria began her usual crooked grin spreading across her face.
Tirinia’s cheeks burned red through her almost-white fur. She quickly grabbed Mikaen’s hand and pulled him away.
Teria chuckled to herself as they disappeared down the hallway.
“What’s the joke?”
She turned to see Maxim Windstar and his fiancée, Lya Saetras.
Lya was a typical Vyan; blue skin, beautiful masses of hair flowing from her head and the back of her arms and legs, and gills; her gills, however, were cybernetic. Teria didn’t know the details of her augmentation, but she did know that Maxim and Lya had met while having their cybernetics upgraded. They were engaged, and due to be married within the year.
“I was just embarrassing my sister in front of her beau.” Teria replied. “What are you two up to?”
“We were going to go check on Tyrn and Rydiana.” Maxim said, slipping his real arm around Lya’s shoulders.
“Huh. I’d let ‘em be for now,” Teria said, “Still in the honeymoon period, y’know. Wouldn’t want to walk in on anything.”
Lya’s cheeks tinged purple. “I didn’t think about that.”
“Speaking of avoiding people,” Maxim began, “I’d steer clear of Kajex and King Iniagus; they’re still in there arguing.”
“Iniagus.” Teria said contemptuously, “You’d swear that whack-job swallowed the entire friggin alliance treaty the way he keeps quoting it.”
“Well,” Lya began, sounding uncomfortable, “He does have a point.”
“Having a point’s fine, but he neglected to suggest a solution. No harm, no foul’s not a good foreign policy, even if it does work in Wenapaj.” Teria stopped and laughed at herself. “Listen to me; I’ve been in the Council chamber for a few hours, and suddenly I’m acting like I know something.”
Maxim chuckled appreciatively. “I’m sure we’ll come up with a plan.”
“I just hope we do it before something else happens,” Teria said, expressing a concern she had kept quiet until now, “I’d hate to be caught off-guard if another one of those dreadnaughts shows up.”
Shaking her head, she said, “Anyway, I’ll see ya’ll later, okay?”
As Lya and Maxim walked off, Teria let out a sigh. She would never admit it, but with all the couples she kept running into, she was starting to feel a little lonely.
She hesitated as she passed by the doors that lead to the palace gardens. She was hungry, but she found herself pushing the door open and walking out into the cool air outside.
The palace gardens were well maintained. Of course, the last time Teria had been in the gardens, she and Tirinia had been sneaking out of the castle.
The winter flowers had begun to bloom, filling the gardens with blooms of purple, blue and white. The massive chronoan tree was unaffected by the weather, but its crystalline blue bark made it look like a giant icicle with branches and leaves.
Teria came to a halt right next to the oak tree. Instantly, her thoughts turned to Narrator Number One. She’d seen neither hide nor hair of her old friend since the day after the kidnapping incident.
“Michael …” She whispered, laying her palm against the oak tree’s trunk. “What mischief are you up to?”
After a few moments, she sighed again and turned to walk away. She stopped instantly, her jaw dropping. Narrator Number One was walking towards her!
Teria rushed over to meet him. “One!”
Smiling, he met her embrace. It may just have been her imagination, but he seemed to hold her just a little tighter than usual. “It’s good to see you again.” he whispered in her ear.
She let him go and punched him in the arm, demanding, “What in Nocturnes took you so long?”
He rubbed his arm, smiling. “I just had some things I wanted to sort out … hey, wait a minute! I didn’t say I’d be coming back!”
She held her hands behind her back, twisting back and forth slightly with her most innocent expression on her face.
One sighed. “I was sleeping.”
“Sleeping?” she said incredulously, dropping her cute act, “for two months?”
“It’s hard to keep track of the passage of time in the dream realm. Besides, that’s nothing. Jay’s been asleep for years.” Sighing, One added, “Anyway, I came here to talk to you.”
“Of course!” Teria felt her heart leap as she sat down beneath the tree, One sitting beside her a moment later.
After a few minutes of silence, Teria asked, “So, you wanted to talk about …”
“To be honest, I’m not sure myself. I was sleeping in the Dream Realm, just drifting really when I had an urge to come back here and check on you and the others. How is Mikaen?”
“Fine. Winged. Engaged to my sister.”
“I had a feeling he’d have proposed by now.” He glanced at her. “You doin’ okay?”
Teria put her hands behind her head. “I’m me, same as ever. I missed you, though. It seemed like you were always just around the corner, and suddenly you weren’t there anymore.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay; I know you’re a Dreamer and everything. It’s not a problem.”
After a few moments of silence, One said, “Teria, you’re a girl …”
“You came here to tell me that?” she asked, her lips curving into an amused smile.
“Well, it’s …” he sighed. “I’m having something I’d call a ‘girl’ problem. I was wondering if you could help me.”
Teria shrugged. “Ask away.”
“Well, there’s this girl I like in the Elsewhere Incorporate …”
Teria felt her heart sink. For a moment, she was sure he wanted to talk about her.
One continued, oblivious to Teria’s thoughts, “Her name’s Luck. She was the one from that day at the cathedral? Anyway, she’s been chasing me for the past decades. I don’t know why it took fighting a dreadnaught to make me realize that I cared about her, but it did.”
He sat up and resting on his elbows on his knees. “Thing is, when I told her how I felt, she ran off.”
Teria frowned. “What, just like that?”
One nodded. “I think it was something about the Breath of Fire, but I can’t help but wonder if it was it something I did. Should I have been more subtle?”
“Well, if she’s like me, then that’s a definite no. I like my men to be direct. You should remember that.”
He chuckled. “I’m starting to. Still, no one’s seen her for the past two month. It has me more than a little worried.” One sighed. “Maybe I waited too long.”
“Maybe. No way to know without asking her though.” Teria sat up, saying, “Maybe I could have a talk with her …”
“Not a bad idea, but like I said, no one knows where she is.”
“Oh.”
They sat back against the tree in silence.
Teria was gathering her courage. She knew that she may have a chance if she acted now. As she opened her mouth, an idestan messenger approached, saying, “Ah, Daughter Teria. The Council is about to reconvene.”
“Council?” One hit his head, saying, “Right … the Council. Duh.” He stood and helped Teria rise, asking, “How’s it going anyway?”
She blew a raspberry at him. “I think we passed nowhere about an hour ago. Iniagus keeps quoting treaty, Kajex is on the war path, and Jyle is trying so hard to mediate that we keep going in circles.”
“Hmm …” One scratched his head. “Maybe I could help.”
Teria’s ears twitched. “What, with the Council? Isn’t that a bit much, even for you?”
“Very funny. Two and I were poking around with the Breath of Fire, and we found the pilot still in the cockpit.”
Teria’s eyes went wide. “He was in there for two months?”
“From the smell of it, yes.”
Teria wrinkled her nose in disgust at the thought of it. “Yech. Glad I wasn’t there. Was he Galden?”
“Not sure yet. There wasn’t much left. I left the body with a doctor friend of mine.” Grimacing, he added, “I was about to go see if he’s found anything yet. I could prepare a statement or something for the Council, if you think it might help.”
“By the Creator, yes, please. Anything to get this Council over with a little faster.”
With a grin, One headed towards a door that had just appeared in a nearby hedge. “I’ll see what I can come up with.”
“One!” Teria began, stepping towards him.
When he turned, she felt her courage fade. Sighing, she waved and said, “I’ll tell you when you get back.”
Nodding, he closed the door behind him. The door vanished moments later, leaving the hedge the same as it had been before.
“Teria?”
Teria turned to see Mikaen and Tirinia.
Mikaen asked, “You ready for another round?”
Teria glanced back at the hedge where One had vanished. Smiling, she walked past Mikaen and Tirinia. “We’ll see.”
She was one of the first to return. She took her seat beside Tirinia and Shae and waited as the rest of the delegates filed inside the chamber. Jyle gave her a dirty look when he entered, but he didn’t say anything.
Once everyone was seated, Jyle coughed and said, “We’ll resume … that is, if it’s okay with you, Teria.”
Teria waved her hand in a bored kind of way.
Rolling his eyes, Jyle said, “The next order of business for the council is …”
“Hold up a sec!” Kajex said, standing, “We haven’t finished with the last issue yet. What are we going to do about the galdens?”
“By the Creator, not this again.” muttered Teria.
“We all agree that Ronisgald is at the very least liable for the recent incident.” He glanced at Iniagus, who nodded grudgingly. “Are we to do nothing about it?”
“I’m open to suggestions.” Jyle crossed his arms, an annoyed look on his face.
“Here we go.” Teria muttered.
Kajex had just opened his mouth to speak when the chamber doors suddenly burst open. Narrator Number One strode through the open doors, looking unusually serious.
As Teria straightened in her chair, Jyle began, “Narrator Number One? What in the name of the …”
“I know who was behind the attack.” One tossed a bloody metal pin onto the table. It bounced and clattered across the table, stopping just short of Jyle.
Teria didn’t recognize the symbol on the pin, but whatever it was made Jyle’s face go as pale as a sheet.
One nodded, his face grim. “The Revs.”
Chapter 2
Lucky
Mikaen was on his feet in an instant. “The Revs?”
“The person piloting the Breath of Fire wasn’t galden.” One said, “He was human. A little poking around, and I found his insignia pin. The Revs were behind the attack.”
“The Revs are on Vinta?” It was Jyle who spoke, having finally found his voice, “How? When?”
“I don’t know,” One said, “But I think it’s safe to say they’re the ones who’ve been masquerading as monks.”
“No wonder they were so interested in the Breath of Fire,” said Mikaen, “A combat dreadnaught would give them a major edge on Earth and Vinta.”
Jyle took a deep breath. “This … this changes everything.”
“I don’t understand,” said Shae, “What are these Rev’s being, and also what is the extent of the impaction due to their involvement?”
“Revs view humans as the only pure race. They’ve killed millions of non-humans back on earth. Mikaen and Jyle will back me up on that.” One nodded at them both.
Mikaen asked One, “Do you know why they’re here?”
“A friend of mine’s working on scanning what’s left of the pilot’s grey matter.” One made a face. “It’s fried as the rest of him, but we might manage to get a little useful information.”
“In the meantime,” said Jyle, addressing the council, “I move that we send a small team to infiltrate Ronisgald in a non-aggressive manner, for the purpose of discovering the nature of the connection between the Ronisgald Government and the Restored Earth Alliance. All in favor?”
Most of the room signaled agreement.
Iniagus let out a sigh before finally nodding. “We will go with the majority.”
“Then we are all agreed. Given the urgency of this matter, the rest of the Council will be postponed until we have the appropriate information necessary to make proper judgment.”
As everyone got up to leave, Teria caught Jyle mouthing the words ‘stay here’ to Mikaen.
She bumped her sister’s arm, whispering, “Ten to one he asks Mikaen to head the team and tries to make us stay here.”
When the other delegates had left, Jyle sighed. “Tirinia, would you mind stepping out for a few minutes.”
As she got up, Mikaen said, “Let her stay. I’m just gonna tell her about it later anyway.”
Jyle frowned. “Fine. Teria?”
“Don’t waste your breath.”
Sighing, Jyle said, “I suppose you have a right to be here, seeing as the four of you snuck into the galden camp in the dead of night and managed to sneak off with the prisoners.”
“Wait a sec,” said One, “I didn’t sneak into the camp until later.”
“I know. Mikaen, Teria, Tirinia … and Jeronem.”
Mikaen looked at the empty chair beside his. “Nice try.”
Jeronem popped back into existence, pouting. “That’s not fair! If you can be here, then so can I!”
“Fine. Everyone can stay. It’s probably better that you all hear this anyway. I’m going to be assembling a team to investigate what’s been going on at Ronisgald. Mikaen, I realize this is asking a lot, but I’d like you to head the team.”
“I’m going too.” Tirinia said immediately.
“I go where Tirinia goes.” said Teria.
Jeronem waved his hand. “Don’t forget about me!”
“No, no, No, NO!” Jyle frowned at them. “I can’t send out a bunch of Council delegates on what is clearly going to be a dangerous mission!”
“Oh really?” Teria put a hand on her hip. “You didn’t seem to mind when your daughter was concerned.”
“I asked you to make sure she didn’t get into trouble, not to actually go rescue her if she did.”
Mikaen held up a hand. “Hang on a moment. If we hadn’t gone to save your daughter and the other captives, they would have surely died before your troops got there.”
“I’m not questioning any of your abilities.” said Jyle, holding a hand to his head, “Far from it; I am grateful for what you did … but Ronisgald isn’t a little camp in the forest; it’s one of the biggest countries on Vinta, filled with the latest security technology and over a hundred-thousand soldiers. The entire country is built inside hundreds of subterranean enclosures, the smallest of which is easily the same size as Muonsol, not to mention Angela.”
“Who’s Angela?” Mikaen asked.
Teria snorted. “Angela’s the artificial intelligence that runs Ronisgald. She’s pretty hi-tech … caught me hacking into the city systems a few months ago.” She paused a moment and rubbed her neck. “Just thinking about it makes my datajack hurt.”
“This isn’t just about getting inside the city and sneaking around.” continued Jyle, “We know the Revs are masquerading as priests, but not how they’re involved with the Ronisgald government. Are they fully cooperating, or are they as in the dark as the rest of us?”
“Seeing as they had a contingent of the Galden Security Force with them …” Teria began.
One shook his head. “That doesn’t necessarily mean the government knew they were Revs. They were in disguise, after all.”
Teria rolled her eyes at him. “Right, no government would deliberately hide information from its citizens. Seriously, don’t you think someone in the chain of command would be a bit curious about a bunch of priests and monks wanting to excavate a giant robot in another country?”
Jyle cut in before One could respond, saying, “So I’m sure we can all agree that we should send a team of trained professionals. As such, I want Mikaen to lead the group.”