Resistance

by Ell Leigh Clarke

  “Yeah, show him being tall isn’t everything!” Barnabas piped up.

  “This… isn’t… fair!” Loco growled between gritted teeth.

  “It never is!” Shango hissed, and then stomped on his opponent’s foot.

  “Ouch!” Loco exclaimed. The temporary distraction allowed Shango to slip his grip and get behind him, wrapping both strong arms around his chiseled abdomen in a tight bear hug.

  “Oh my god!” Jade cried out.

  Shango lifted his brother up, up and over, suplexing him through a stack of six cushions. The move elicited a polite applause from the audience, but the Chesed’s captain was not done. Rather than release Loco on impact he clung on like a mussel, holding him down.

  Before long he got his opponent to overcommit on an escape attempt and flipped him on his back, pinning him in a loose chokehold.

  “You ready to settle down?” Shango asked.

  “We were this fucking close to being able to make our way back home, and now that way is back out in the great black beyond, just waiting for Amroth to stop by and snatch it back up for use in his evil plot. Great fucking work, Jelly Bean,” Loco seethed.

  “I guess not,” Shango shrugged before immobilizing Loco’s left arm.

  “About that…” Blackfriar said above the commotion, “perhaps it is time for me to connect some dots on that evil plot.”

  Shango and Loco froze in mid-grapple and seemed to mutually decide that the contest was over. They returned to their seats and Shango gestured to Blackfriar.

  “Please continue.”

  The other captain blinked and glanced at his open closet. “Thank you.”

  The serving robot came out with a teapot and provided refills as he explained. Covered in sweat, Shango and Loco rehydrated gratefully.

  Blackfriar sat up straighter in his chair. “We believe that Amroth is seeking ultimate control, dominion over all intelligent life forms in the galaxy. For this purpose, he is devising an app which will infect the corteXes worn by humans the universe over. We also found evidence at Thralldom Station that he was employing a special chip to control androids much the same way, experimenting with it to perfect the design.”

  He paused briefly, letting the new information sink in. “From the sounds of things, we should not allow Amroth to mix the powers of this sword with his own powers and his evil plot.”

  “Why?” Jade asked wide-eyed, “what do you think will happen?”

  “Well, if Amroth is able to gain control over this world, and then gain access to another…” Blackfriar trailed off, staring through the wall above Jade’s head.

  “Sounds like a recipe for war,” Loco grunted.

  “Or worse,” Olofi agreed.

  “Indeed.” Blackfriar snapped his attention back to the conversation. “I think the question is not what or why, but rather how.”

  “How what?” Jade looked puzzled, but pleased at her inclusion in the conversation.

  “How will Amroth use the power he hopes to gain in this world, the Seen World, as you call it?” He nodded at the Three. “In the other world, The Unseen World, how would an army of mindless humans and androids be useful there?”

  “To be honest, I’m not so sure you could move an entire army through the crossroad.” Olofi leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, gazing at the decorated wall wistfully. “Even Legba had difficulty moving other people back and forth. I don’t think the sword is intended for that purpose. I think it’s more of a personal ticket to ride. And to the point about Amroth’s plan, I think the humans and androids are more of a power source.”

  Loco leaned forward on the table. “That sword is sounding more and more like ol’ Legba’s personal insurance policy to me,” Loco snorted. “His way to get in and out of the Unseen without the powers bestowed on him by the Allfather.”

  “You don’t know that,” Olofi shot back. “It could have a very specific purpose that we’re completely unaware of. We’ve been away from the Unseen world a long time. We don’t know how things are over there. It could be that creating the sword was the only thing Legba could do to hold things together. Maybe he needed help. Maybe he needed our help. Did you ever think about it that way?”

  “No,” Loco snorted. “I don’t have the imagination of a six-year-old like you. Seriously, what do you think will happen next? We’ll all fart rainbows, hold hands and sing songs?”

  “Hey!” Jade snapped, “I’m the one who suggested we have crew singalongs on the Chesed!” She crossed her arms. “And I still say it’s a good idea.”

  “Oh, I haven’t forgotten that,” Loco assured her.

  She grinned at him, knowingly. “I did get to hear you sing once, Loco, you had a nice voice.”

  “What?” he sputtered, choking on his tea. “When? I would never sing!”

  “Sure you do,” Jade beamed smugly, “it was last Federation day. You got so drunk you started screaming out all the galaxy anthems one after another. I was impressed by how many you knew the words to. And then there were the power ballads that inevitably followed…”

  “Listen to me carefully,” Loco said firmly, glaring at her, “that never happened.” His face had grown beet red.

  “Actually,” Olofi cut in, “I remember that too, and I’m pretty sure we have security footage of Loco’s performance on the Chesed’s mainframe. Should be both audio and video.”

  “Ohh, great!” Jade exclaimed. “I want to upload it to the corteX network!”

  “Ha ha, ha,” Loco spat dryly. “You do that and I’ll shove you in a space suit, tie you to the Chesed’s tailfin, and sit in the airlock using you for target practice.”

  “Loco!” Olofi exclaimed, “you take things too far.”

  “He’s joking,” Jade punched Loco lightly in the shoulder.

  “No, I’m not!” Loco insisted, face so hot that steam should have blasted from his ears.

  Blackfriar cleared his throat. “I think we’ve managed to get far enough off topic,” he interrupted. “As entertaining as this all may be. Could we get back to the sword?”

  “Yes. May I ask how exactly the sword is used?” Barnabas inquired.

  “We’re not entirely certain,” Shango admitted, “but it does seem to have the ability to cut through space and time, creating a temporary portal to the Unseen world.”

  “Where could such a thing come from?” Barnabas marveled.

  “We believe Legba forged it himself,” Shango sighed. “It may have been a failsafe against his death to make sure someone else would be able to travel to the other side.”

  Blackfrair leaned his chin on a hand, his arm resting on the table. “And he’s chosen young Bentley to be the one to do that?”

  Shango pursed his lips. “So it would seem.”

  “And you believe him to be dead?”

  “We know he is,” Loco chuckled humorlessly.

  Shango lowered his gaze to the table. “It does seem to be the case,” he agreed.

  Olofi shook his head. “We might be counting our chickens too early on that one, brothers.”

  Loco scoffed. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

  +++

  QX849-LF, Dead Rock, Deep Space

  The fire had flickered down to a low blaze over searing coals. Legba had moved closer to it, warming his hands as he looked at her. Bentley had seated herself across from him, while Svend went back to the mouth of the cave to give them their privacy. Svend seemed a little put off by being left out after the long journey, but his devotion to Bentley overpowered his natural curiosity.

  The heat from the flames nicked at Bentley’s ankles, and she leaned forward and wiggled her fingers instinctively for warmth. She couldn’t stop looking at Legba, taking in every line of his wizened face, the layers of his dark shaggy hair, and the depths of his limitless eyes. Part of her wanted to reach across the fire, to touch him, even smell him, to make sure he was real. She’d been wanting to find him so badly and for so long that it felt too good to be true.

/>   He smoothed his facial hair and then mimicked her posture, sitting cross legged closer to the flames so they came almost eye to eye. “I know you must have many questions.”

  “You’re damn right I do!” Bentley burst out. “I’ve got about as many questions as there are hairs in your beard, old man. I watched you die. Was that intentional? Was it just part of some elaborate scheme of yours?” She felt her voice waver and steered carefully away from the more emotional subjects.

  She paused. “Let’s start with this: how the hell did you survive? There must have been a couple pints of blood splashed around the med bay, and none of it was mine.”

  “Funny thing about blood,” Legba chuckled, “they say it never lies. It doesn’t always run red, you know, so how can you trust it? It’s still a part of you. It comes from your bones. The body makes more, any time you lose a little, and there are ways to stave off coagulation once it’s extracted…” he trailed off, muttering facts to himself faster than Bentley could follow.

  “Wait, what? Will you talk like a normal person, please?” She leaned so close to him she could feel the fire on her face, and her chest, the heat licking up through her shirt. “Are you saying that you faked your death? That it wasn’t your blood?”

  “Not my blood! Ha!” He touched the left side of his chest above his heart, just shy of his shoulder. Bentley half expected his hand to come away stained with crimson. That was where the fatal wound had been. But it seemed the wound hadn’t been fatal after all. Or had it? Could Legba…

  “Legba, did you die? I mean, it doesn’t really matter. You’re here now, but I just need to know how.”

  He smiled at her and wiggled his eyebrows. “Well if I died, I’m looking rather well for it, don’t you think?” he chuckled. “I feel that’s an adventure for another day. One I shall gladly undertake, mind you, but I won’t leave this world in such a sorry state, not when there’s something to be done about it.” He stroked his short black beard and peered at her as if gazing directly into her soul.

  “So you survived. Or did you? You must have.” Bentley growled in frustration. “Why can’t you just be straight with me? Shango, Olofi and Loco are always keeping their secrets. I thought you’d be different. All this time I’ve spent trying to find you, and I expected some answers.”

  “It’s always best to expect the unexpected,” Legba winked. “Especially before it can sneak up and bite your bottom!” He played a cymbal response on his knee. “But expectations in general are the sneakiest of all. They start off seeming so innocent but worm their way deep beneath the roots of understanding, to topple the trees of knowledge.”

  “Trees of know… what???” Bentley stood up, and she heard Svend shift by the mouth of the cave. He clearly didn’t quite trust Legba alone with her. She wondered how much he could hear.

  “It’s fine!” she called through to him. “Just stretching my legs!” She sighed and sat back down, leaning over the fire again and lowering her voice. “Will you please just give me one answer I can understand? Tell me something helpful, anything, just make me feel like this trip hasn’t been a waste of time.”

  She buried her face in her hands and took long, slow breaths.

  He waited until she had calmed somewhat, and then spread his hands. “I cannot tell you that which you already know, and since the truth of all things is already known…” he trailed off again and shrugged. “I would never dream of wasting your time, Bentley.”

  She looked up in surprise. Finally, a sentence that didn’t present itself backwards. She clung to the statement like a life raft at sea. She didn’t believe that Legba would lie to her, so if he said he wouldn’t waste her time, there must have been something useful happening. Her spine straightened, and her eyes perked up as she looked at him with a new energy.

  “So why did you bring me here?” she asked softly “And why did I need that?” she asked nodding at the sword laying on the ground next to the fire.

  “The truth of all things is already known,” he repeated gently. “You need only ask yourself the right questions.”

  Bentley stifled another growl, turning it into a long exhale. She rolled her shoulders back and mirrored Legba’s relaxed, upright posture and slow, deep breathing. She gazed levelly into his eyes, noticing that while she became more frustrated, he became ever calmer.

  “Why am I here?” she asked again. The sound flowed past her lips and rolled around the cavern’s interior, just barely louder than the fire’s pop and crackle.

  “To breathe,” he told her. “Just keep breathing, and keep thinking about your breathing. Now close your eyes, and dwell on nothing else.”

  Bentley was a little shy to shut her eyes, but once she did so she immediately felt more relaxed. The lack of vision grounded her in her other senses, feeling the hard rock beneath her, smelling the thin smoke from the dry fire, and hearing the tiny echoes produced by the rock walls. She also became more attuned to Legba’s presence and that of the sword. Even with her eyes closed, she could have reached out and picked it up without any risk of missing the hilt.

  “Don’t move your shoulders so much when you breathe,” Legba instructed. He stood and circled her with confident strides, placing heavy hands on her shoulders and leaning on them. The pressure felt strangely comforting. “Inhale to your gut, and exhale from your gut. Breathe with your whole body, Bentley.”

  Between his attention and instruction, she felt a sense of calm come over her, slowly, like wading into a warm pond. She leaned into the sensation, breathing even deeper and willing herself to let go of all thoughts save for the mental image of her lungs, her whole body, expanding and contracting.

  “Good…” The pressure on her shoulders released and she did her best to keep them still while she breathed. She heard Legba move back to the other side of the fire and sit, breath sighing from his lips as though he was still in pain. “Continue just like that. I have much to teach you, and I’d prefer that your mind be in a receptive state.”

  “Is that why you brought me here?” she asked in a faraway voice that came from deep within her chest. “To teach me something?”

  “Yes. To train you. Here on this rock, I will finish what I started.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He folded his hands and rested his chin on them, gazing once more into her soul. “What I started when I coded your DNA into the sword.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  QX849-LF, Dead Rock, Deep Space

  “DNA into the sword.”

  Legba’s words seemed to a push a trigger in Bentley’s mind, pulling a forgotten memory into her waking consciousness like a tech wizard conjuring an illusion. A bolt of fear and adrenaline shot through her, but she leaned into the emotion and breathed deeply, wanting to learn what her mind had hidden from her.

  The cavern fell away, taking the crackle of the fire and the smell of smoke with it. The fear and adrenaline grew stronger as the memory solidified.

  She was staggering along, half-carrying someone who was bleeding badly. She could feel the warm blood running over her hands and arms as she supported him. It was Legba, gushing from a gunshot wound. His grizzly hair grated against her neck as he leaned on her. She could smell his sweat and blood above the sterile scent of the hallway. Who had shot him? When? Why? She couldn't remember, but she recognized the hallway they were moving down. She knew the boxy architecture and boring decor like the back of her hand. Why was it so familiar to her? When had she been there before?

  It belonged to a LaPlacian office building, of that she felt certain. Out the window she could see roads and pathways winding between trees, as well as a large residential apartment and a domed entertainment bay. They were on Sparta Space Station, in the Klaunox Sector. She did not know how they had ended up there. She wanted to stop and think, perhaps to retrace their steps, but she could hear voices, then footsteps of men chasing them.

  What had they done?

  An alarm blared.

  Run!

  Th
ey staggered around a corner and ducked into a small room, both breathing hard. It was a closet sized space just large enough for the two of them to stand next to the wireless relay station, which flickered and beeped away happily.

  “Fuck-balls!” she hissed as quietly as she could. She’d been hoping for a bathroom or a med lab or something with some gauze or alcohol, or maybe even an escape pod. Not a damned dead end. Now they had nothing, and nowhere to go.

  She shook her head and took a deep breath. They didn’t quite have nowhere to go. She moved over to the window and unlocked the security latch, pushing it open and peering down.

  They were on the third floor, as far as she could tell, a dizzying drop, but perhaps not lethal if they managed to land in the trees and climb down. It would be like something out of the films displayed in the entertainment bays. Bentley felt her heart rate escalate as she imagined carrying out the action. She could picture it. She just needed to convince Legba.

  “Here,” Legba gasped, “take this.”

  “Take what? Oh my god, where did you get a fucking sword?” The words were hers, and yet she felt she was hearing them for the first time. Legba had produced a glimmering blade from thin air and extended it toward her pommel first. Without thinking she clasped the grip and lifted the blade.

  Zzzap!

  Something that felt like an electric current coursed into her body, leaving her fingers numb and her forearm tingling. For a moment it felt as if the hilt were searing to her palm, and then suddenly all of the pain was gone.

  “What the fuck?” She wanted to drop the damn thing, but some instinct told her to hold onto it. Maybe it just felt good to have a weapon. She could hear men running past outside, still looking for them.

  “That was the sword coding to its new owner,” Lega explained with a wince, applying fresh pressure to his wound.

  “What am I going to do with a sword? They’ve got guns!” She held the glimmering blade up to examine it. It was quite pretty, if horribly outdated.

  “Here.” He snatched something from the hilt of the weapon and clapped it to her neck. “You’ll know with this.”