Sac'a'rith

by Vincent Trigili

  “We’d have to put you in sleep mode for a couple of days, and you would be kept on restricted duty for a week or so while we monitored the acceptance process. After that, we’d want to see you again in a few months to make sure all was still good.”

  “What do you think, Purwryn?” I asked. I knew we had a deadline, due to the upcoming mission.

  “I could no more suggest you remove your implants and go back to being an ordinary human than I would consider going back to being a mundane. I think you should have the repairs done,” he said.

  I smiled. I hadn’t considered that angle before; as a magus, he could understand how I felt about going back to being a primitive. I wondered if I needed to create a third class of people: Cyborgs, primitives and now magi. I needed more data to determine how different they really were. Powerful and dangerous, yes, but were they different where it mattered? Could they see beyond the here and now and comprehend a wider view of events, unfolding everywhere at once?

  “Doctor, how much will it cost?” I asked.

  “I deem this medically necessary, and you’re currently deployed with the Wizard Kingdom on a military operation, so it will cost you nothing. Your medical care is covered completely.”

  Amazed, I looked over at Purwryn, who immediately said, “No, we’re still not going to pay for a rebreather.”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle. Why he was fixated on that specific part I couldn’t tell, but it was entertaining. I was tempted to make a play for one just to see his reaction. “What about the mission deadline?”

  “We’d better check with Zah’rak about that. Worst case scenario is that we come back after the mission and have it done then.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  I waited outside the room while the Resden agent was interrogating Purwryn. When he was finished it would be my turn, and then it was off to surgery. Zah’rak decided that, since Phareon had left us hanging, there was no reason not to have the surgery done right away. If Phareon tried to move up the timeline, he’d simply refuse until I was ready. I think he’d enjoy the opportunity to do just that. I wondered why he disliked them so much; there had to be some history there, but I hadn’t discovered it yet.

  To occupy myself while I waited, I reviewed my mission notes so far. Purwryn had all the marks of a maker. He’d quickly picked up on all the technology involved with my implants and expertly performed the maintenance, despite having no training in them whatsoever. I decided that I’d try to convince him to purchase some enhancements; maybe just a memory net or neural interface to start, something to whet his appetite. We could use more like him, and once he became drawn to enhancements he could probably design his own and advance the industry as a whole.

  I could hear everything going on in the interview through the walls, thanks to my enhanced hearing. The agent was pushing Purwryn hard. Purwryn didn’t seem to have experience dealing with a professional interrogator and wasn’t doing well under the pressure. Raquel jumped in several times and warned the agent to back off.

  The agent didn’t like being corralled, but Raquel wasn’t a woman who could be pushed around. I couldn’t see through the walls, but I was sure she squared up to him and enjoyed putting him in his place. Raquel was definitely a natural-born leader. She also seemed to live for competition, and was definitely showing the Resden agent that she was more than able for anything he could dish out.

  I knew Zah’rak was in there, but he didn’t say much. He was a warrior all the way through. Of all the kinds of primitives I’d discovered in my travels, his subtype was the easiest to understand: give him a weapon and a target and let him be. The warrior type didn’t like management, and worked best when left alone. The only problem with them was that they fared poorly during peacetime. Warriors tended to get restless and often got themselves into trouble. He was more controlled than most of those I’d come across, but we were still on an active mission. It remained to be seen how he’d react to a time of peace.

  While I waited, I looked through my memory net and tried to find anything that might give the Resden agent reason to force extradition, flagging it not to mention. I had no idea who was after Purwryn or why the agents were after him now. That much was the truth. If I just stuck to that part of the story, I should be fine.

  Purwryn came out looking very shaken. He said, “Okay, you’re up. Bit of advice, don’t answer any questions unless Raquel gives you the go-ahead. He kept trying to trip me up with questions designed to trick me into saying things that weren’t true.”

  “I’ve dealt with his type before, but thanks for the warning,” I said. I ran a program I had stored in my memory net which kept my expression perfectly neutral. I usually let my face display a normal range of emotions, as it made primitives more comfortable, but this wasn’t a time to risk giving anything away.

  Inside the room were a table and several chairs. Zah’rak was there in full battle armor, including his swords and other weapons. He was physically impressive for a primitive, and even unarmed was more than a match for the human Resden agent, or indeed any other human. I was glad he was there because his sheer physical presence would keep the agent from doing anything stupid.

  Raquel was in her body armor, which was by far the most impressive armor I’d ever seen. The nanotechnology it employed was centuries beyond anything we had out there. Like the battle wizards, she was completely unarmed. My file on her described her as perhaps the most dangerous person alive in this sector. She was a ‘person of interest’ on whom I was to gather as much information as possible, but so far she’d seemed fairly normal. There was no sign of her supposed power and strength.

  The Resden agent was dressed in formal business attire and looked like the perfect clone of every other government agent. He didn’t stand as I entered; instead, he gestured at the chair in front of him. I looked at Raquel who nodded, and I sat and waited silently.

  “Marcus,” the agent said, “your history shows many great debts which were recently paid off.”

  I kept my eyes locked on his and didn’t say anything. I hoped my emotionless demeanor would frustrate him.

  “Since the money was paid back, you haven’t gone into debt. Why is that?” he asked.

  “I learned my lesson about debt, and no longer spend more than I make,” I said, keeping my voice monotone and to a precisely perfect rhythm. When he played a recording of this interview later on, he would struggle to hear any hint in my voice as to whether or not I was telling the truth and he would find nothing. I hoped he was not the type to give up easily and that he would struggle with it for days on end, even losing sleep over it.

  “Your previous debt was all medical expenses. People don’t normally have any choice about those,” he said.

  I said nothing in response. I had learned from previous interrogations that the secret was to say as little as possible. If they make statements, you don’t respond.

  “Tell me about the explosion of the Paradise,” he said.

  “Sorry, I can’t. I wasn’t there for it and know nothing about it,” I lied. This was where I had to be particularly careful. When Raquel and Ragnar had asked me for a statement, I told them exactly what happened from the day that Purwryn was kidnapped until we joined their crew. They asked no questions about the explosion and I offered no information.

  “Your father was on board. Correct?” he asked.

  I was sure my father would have found a way off before the explosion. “I don’t know; I wasn’t there.”

  “Do you have any reason to think he wasn’t there?” asked the agent.

  “As I said, I wasn’t there. I can’t confirm or deny something which I know nothing about.”

  He leaned back in the chair and said, “This will go a lot faster if you just tell me what you know.”

  “You already have my statement,” I said, gesturing to the datapad on the table.

  “Yes, but it tells me nothing about the explosion,” he replied.

 
; I didn’t respond to that. I could see Raquel in the corner with a big smile on her face. She was enjoying the agent’s frustration with me and didn’t care if anyone noticed.

  I also knew that the agent wouldn’t be happy and would persist. I kept a running log of all the questions he asked and every answer I gave, so when he tried to trip me up by asking the same question phrased differently I could repeat my original response. Just to be extra annoying, I pointed out when I had already answered a question and then told him my answer had not changed in the last few minutes.

  The agent kept trying, hiding his frustration. He pressed questions about my medical history, previous money issues and so on, obviously trying to establish a motive for destroying the Paradise. No doubt he reasoned that if he could establish a motive he could then press for extradition.

  After an hour, Raquel stepped forward and said, “I’ve heard enough. Marcus, you may go.”

  I rose to leave and the agent started to protest. Zah’rak stepped between the agent and myself and opened the door to let me out. As I left I heard Raquel say, “You had your chance, but you haven’t convinced me you can establish a means or motive. Extradition is still denied.”

  Purwryn was waiting for me outside the room. “How did it go?”

  “With a little luck, he’ll be so angry and frustrated that he won’t get any sleep tonight,” I said.

  He smiled and shook his head. “I wish I did know what happened. I mean, I was shot, kidnapped, drugged and interrogated by someone for some reason. It’d sure be nice to know why.”

  “Yeah.” I sympathized with him but had no answers. As far as I knew, his introduction into the Paradise mission and the events surrounding it were a lucky coincidence for me.

  “Any word from your father?” he asked.

  I had told him I was sure my father had made it off the Paradise before it exploded, but I hadn’t told him how I knew that. I suspected he thought me in denial as a way to cope, and maybe I was. “No, but he’d have no idea where to send a message. The last he heard, we were heading to Phineary.”

  “True,” he replied.

  We walked quietly through the station towards patient registration, and I remembered I needed to talk with him about something personal and important. “Purwryn, when I check in, I have to assign someone full medical authority to make decisions on my behalf if I’m unable to do so. I would be honored if you’d allow me to appoint you.”

  “Me? Wouldn’t it be wiser to appoint Raquel? She’s more or less your doctor,” he said.

  “But you’re my friend. Besides, you can always ask her opinion; I’d just feel better if you had the final say.” There was wisdom in suggesting Raquel, but I knew I could trust Purwryn to do the best by me, and Raquel to do the best for the team and the mission. Normally those goals would line up, but I couldn’t count on that.

  “Okay, I’ll do it,” he said quietly. “You just make sure you pull through this, you hear me?”

  I thought that was an odd question. “Oh, my hearing implants are fine. They aren’t even on the list to be replaced.”

  He shook his head and kept walking. When we got to the desk a nice primitive woman checked me in, her hands flying across the keyboard. It was such an inefficient means of entering data, but she was fast for a primitive. There was a time when no person was involved in the check-in process; patients just walked through a scanner and were automatically entered into the system, but it turned out to be surprisingly inefficient. Most patients had questions, special requests or other issues that an automated system couldn’t handle, so people were reintroduced into the process. It was almost paradoxical that a slower primitive interface like this was a faster process than a pure, automated interface. It was yet more proof that the best way forward was to combine the two and retain the advantages of both.

  When everything had been entered, a nurse took me back to a changing room with a safe. I was instructed to put all my personal belongings in the safe and put on a gown that barely gave lip service to modesty. The room was predictably chilly, but my internal systems simply adjusted my bodily functions to generate more heat in compensation.

  While I waited, I received a message on my internal communications network.

  “Agent P2003, report,” came the electronic-sounding voice. No one around me would be able to hear anything. It was all in my head.

  “Operations progressing as planned,” I silently replied.

  “Current status?” asked the voice.

  “I was heavily damaged and am going in for repairs,” I replied.

  “Dump mission report,” said the voice.

  “Initiating dump,” I said and started the operation from my internal memory net. When it was completed, I said, “Dump complete. Mission still on track. Will be offline for repairs for one to two days.”

  “Acknowledged. Continue mission. Report back after repairs with new operational specifications,” said the voice.

  Chapter Forty

  Two weeks had passed since we’d heard from the Phareon commander and several days since Marcus had come out of surgery. Master Mathorn had finally been able to get us a shipment of gold and diamonds.

  It was exciting working on the new type of armor for which Master Spectra had given us the formula six months ago. It was taking a lot longer to craft, but it should be much tougher and repair itself faster. I wondered if it would still be green, like the other armor I’d made. Was that green because I’d made it or because of the materials I’d used? I must see if that was covered in the information they gave us. If I could make customized colors, that would be even better.

  I had already begun a set of armor with the materials we’d been able to recover from Siden, but had run out of materials due to mistakes along the way. The new armor required a much greater degree of precision than that I had made previously. Thankfully this stop at the hospital had left me with a lot of down time, so I was able to focus on the armor. Even with the setbacks I should have Marcus’ armor ready soon, as well as the experimental design for my own armor.

  I went down to the cargo bay to get the supplies I needed for the crafting when Shira stopped me.

  “Zah’rak!” she said.

  “Hi, Shira.” She had been seeing Dr. Leslie every other day since we docked. It seemed to be helping her, but she still stayed on the ship in hydroponics most of the time.

  “I was wondering: can we use the gate and go back to that forest?” she asked.

  “That forest wasn’t very safe,” I said.

  “No, but if we go during the day, it’s safe enough,” she said. There was a wistful look in her eyes as she added, “I miss the trees.”

  “I do too,” I said quietly. “Once we know something about our next mission, we’ll see if we can schedule a time to go. I wonder how we can tell when it’s daytime there?”

  “I’m sure Raquel knows how to tell,” she said.

  “True. I’ll check with her,” I said.

  “Could we also visit the other forest?” she asked.

  “Other forest?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Raquel told me about another place we can use the gate to get to. She said it’s not in Vydoria or Korshalemia; it’s a whole different realm, not marred by technology. It’s sparsely populated with simple tribal people, living their lives in tune with nature.”

  “That sounds wonderful,” I said. It sounded better than wonderful; it sounded like a place I could call home someday. “I’ll tell you what: after this mission, we’ll make it a point to go there. It’ll be a good vacation.”

  She gave me the biggest hug her tiny frame would allow and ran off. It felt good to see her happy. As I watched her run, I wondered where her family was. I didn’t want to ask her just yet in case there was pain associated with those memories. That might interfere with her recovery, but I would like to let them know she was free and doing well. If she were my daughter or sister, I’d sure want to know.

  W
ith a great sigh, I turned back to my mission to reach the cargo bays and get the supplies I needed to make the armor. It would be nice to get back to crafting. I wondered at the delay in getting new orders, but it suited me; it allowed us to get a lot of important work done.

  I hadn’t make it far when Purwryn crossed my path. He was just reboarding the Night Wisp. “Hey, Zah’rak!”

  “Hey. How’s Marcus?” I asked.

  “Doing well. The docs think the new implants will work well, and there are no signs of rejection. Of course, they still want to see him back in half a year or so, but he should be fit for duty if we ever get orders again.”

  I chuckled. He was anxious to get back to work. “Great! And I’m sure we’ll hear soon.”

  Continuing on my way towards the cargo bays, I had almost made it to the hatch when Ragnar’s voice came over the comm.

  “Zah’rak, we have an incoming call from Phareon,” he said.

  I looked longingly at the hatch, sighed and turned back towards the bridge. “Ask Raquel to meet me up there,” I said.

  “Sure thing,” he said.

  Well, at least Purwryn will be happy, I thought to myself as I walked up to the bridge. When I arrived there, Ragnar was at the comm. station and Raquel was waiting for me near the command chair.

  “Time to find out if Phareon still likes us,” I said.

  “Hardly, but they need us,” said Raquel.

  “Okay, Ragnar, put him on the screen,” I said.

  The commander appeared on the screen, but there was someone with him for a change.

  “Hello, Master Raquel, Zah’rak,” he said. “This is Ambassador Sarrin, and he will be joining us from now on.”

  “Probably to make sure the good commander doesn’t start a war,” sent Raquel. Though her face didn’t betray anything, her mental voice carried a chuckle with that statement.

  She was probably right. The commander wasn’t known for his finesse and it wouldn’t be a surprise to learn that every one of his superiors expected him to cause a war. I didn’t envy Sarrin’s task of keeping him in line, but I expected it would provide some enjoyment to watch.