by Dusks, Rydre
Rook had survived countless executions, plus the attack from the pack of machine hounds, and had only come out of life with a number of scars and no lasting damage. Not only that, but he was an expert thief and had used his skills to help other inmates in the camp. He'd been a blessing when I needed one. How could he not be something other than an average human? I didn't fully understand how Rook could manipulate luck with his brain, but if he really could, that meant that he truly was significant. Now... whether he was a god incarnate or not I hadn't decided. Sylvain was right about one thing--I did want to believe. I wanted to believe that I had some kind of link to these immortals so that I could help change the world--make it better--because right now Kairenz was a terrible place to live. But the rational side of my brain that had seen the monstrous works of what Dentrin's hands could accomplish told me it was all just a side effect of the chemical he'd injected into my head. I could hear voices and have hallucinations of a white-haired man kidnapping my child. For all I knew all of this could have been a dream, and I could be lying comatose on a hospital bed back in GreyCross, deliriously believing that I was some miraculous god with powers over mortals.
Now... it is time for you to discover your own gifts, Crow. I have waited this long to tell you of who you are, because I badly want you to meet your brother and my partner GaenVrellec. He will ask that you prove yourself a god to earn your trust. We are all in this together--striving for the same purpose--to stop the Mirror Curse. GaenVrellec will be happy to know that you are on our side.
Sylvain's presence faded, and I knew that he had finished his contact. I recognized the name GaenVrellec, but I had to think hard to remember why that sounded so bitter. Although not a fan of the stories of the Crei, everyone knew the story of GaenVrellec and KahRatese. The brother gods played quite the parts in the life of the divine beings, and were known as the terrible duo. KahRatese was depicted as some graceful, slender young being of undefinable gender with flaming red hair that symbolized his ability to change almost anything. As the God of Alteration, KahRatese was highly favored by SolTansra because of how necessary change was to any life. But KahRatese was lonely, and his loneliness caused stagnation. He turned away any spiritual gift that Sol attempted to give to him, so the Fathergod finally decided it was time to make KahRatese a friend.
It was said that one day Sol swept a hand beside the stream in his personal gardens and removed a single mossy stone. For a time he stood and touched the soft plant life, enjoying the sensation of its presence and connecting waves of joy and pleasure to the substance's spirit. From the moss came GaenVrellec--the perfect being representing gratification, pleasure, enjoyment, and play. GaenVrellec, his hair the same green as the moss, was introduced to KahRatese that very day, and they immediately bonded. The two became inseparable.
That was, of course, until GaenVrellec gradually began to show signs of malignancy toward the other gods. He grew jealous when others spoke to KahRatese, and even became enemies with Sol himself. He turned pleasure into his own form of obsession, and used his gift to turn KahRatese against the other gods. SolTansra banished GaenVrellec from his sight, never to be seen or heard of again. Because of this, Sol had destroyed KahRatese's trust, and the two rarely spoke again. Change still happened on Kairenz, but the planet began to die. Plant life slowly withered into desert as the planet had become stagnant, and although mortal life went on, KahRatese was done assisting Sol any further.
Reviewing the story, Sylvain's words seemed to make more sense. If SolTansra had created the Mirror, then of course KahRatese and his companion would be against any plan wrought by the Fathergod. But if this GaenVrellec were truly as twisted and dark as the one in the stories, Kairenz was in for a lot more trouble than just the Mirror Curse.
I sank further into my pillow, feeling the burden of this new information weighing me down even more. Now not only did I have Stelliot and the absence of my leg to worry about, but also the thought of a Sylvain-dubbed "heinous birth" and the idea that not only was Rook a god incarnate, but I was as well. Until I had irrefutable proof, I would deny it to the end.
I was too tired to stay awake, but also too wired to sleep. There was too much information on my mind. I rolled over, careful not to bump what was left of my knee, and stared into the darkness. Even on top of all this weight there was also the thought that Toanwar was hiding in Saydea with Va'th, and that my boss was still stuck in the Tower with Iason's most insane machine, Lozhen Era.
I didn't remember what time my mind finally shut back down, but the next time I woke up the clock informed me it was late in the afternoon. I wondered momentarily if Atta had secretly slipped more tuhasat into me. I sat up slowly, looking around the room, and heard voices from downstairs. Figuring it was best to find out what was going on I took a deep breath, situated my crutches, and began my careful descent down the steps.
As my crutches clicked down on the wooden entry hall floor the voices quieted. I neared the kitchen and immediately brightened at a familiar sight.
"Zlade!"
Zlade grinned and walked forward to pull me into a cautious but emotional hug, seeming to forget completely about everyone else in the kitchen. "Crow... I never thought I was going to see you again."
I straightened and looked him in the eyes. I could never forget his face. He was one of the most originally inspired androids I'd ever seen, with purposely mismatched eyes, dish blond hair, and a genuine smile that had everyday humans mistaking him for one of them. I'd always looked up to him as an elder brother and teacher. Zlade's knowledge capacity was expansive, and he was the first experimental model of his kind created--a prototype.
He glanced down at my leg, his smile turning a bit tight. "Your brother's a fine surgeon." He glanced back at Atta standing in the kitchen. From here I noticed my brother was helping his wife cook dinner.
"I won't be offended if you get angry with me, Mr. Voelwrath," Atta stated. "I did lie to Kro and tell him I was fixing it, after all."
Zlade waved a hand to dismiss Atta's words. "Toanwar's the one who gets unnecessarily angry about things--not me. I just came with the blueprints for a new leg."
As I sat down on the couch, Zlade knelt in front of me and dragged a large case out from behind the arm of the sofa. Akri, sitting on the other side of the couch, stared curiously as Zlade immediately got to work unwrapping the bandages, then delved into his swift work. He opened the kit, revealing an immense number of tools, pieces of metal, and several bags of dark skin-toned substance.
"Goodness, Zlade. I thought Toanwar was just going to give me a temporary substitute until I got back into GreyCross."
Zlade glanced up as he measured a metal tibia against a ball joint for my knee. "You’ll need a nerve sensor leg if you’re going to ride anywhere. Toes and all."
I didn't mind. I wouldn't be able to have feeling through my leg--at least not a kind that I would be comfortable with--but it would certainly look and perform just like the one I had lost.
Atta walked in, setting a plate of pasta on the coffee table beside Zlade and I. "That's for you, Kro."
"Oyostat," I thanked him. "Where's Rook?"
Zlade chuckled. "He's been outside for the last ten minutes admiring your hovercycle."
I had almost forgotten about my hovercycle. I grinned. "Better be careful where you parked that. Rook has a bad history of snaking expensive items."
Zlade locked a tight frame around my thigh to hold the joint in place and allow me to walk on it without much pain. He then fixed the ball joint to my leg and snapped the new metal bones in place. I hissed from the pressure on my fresh, surgical wound. Zlade then tested their rotation before moving on to the ankle joint. I understood that this had to be done while the amputation was still new so that the bone and flesh could heal around the joint, but it wasn't comfortable. "He wouldn't get very far. I have the key card with me."
"No you don't," Akri suddenly spoke up. "I saw Rook taking that card out of your pocket earlier."
Stra
ightening for a moment, Zlade felt his back pockets in surprise. I simply laughed. It felt good to laugh freely now, after nearly two years of doing it in secret... with no soul behind the sound. My voice was still weak, but it was a true sound with heart behind it.
"Don't worry about it, Zlade," I said. "Rook would know better than to run away with my bike for too long. He and I are close."
Zlade's gaze moved back toward his work, but his eyes stopped on G'tavei's chips still hanging around my throat. "May I ask about those?" he wondered while picking up a bag of foot "bones" and joints.
I touched the chips with a couple of fingers. "There was a Machinic I met in Roavo named G'tavei. He was used by Saydea and thrown in prison. Later they blew him up,” Zlade looked slightly horrified, stopping to listen. "I rescued his memory and personality chips. I was hoping to find a way to rebuild him. He didn't deserve any of the things that happened to him."
Zlade opened the bag he still held. "If you want to send them back with me, I'll ask Toanwar about it. Maybe we can track down his blueprints and rebuild him."
Untying the crusted knot in the shoelace, I took the chips from my neck and leaned over to place them in Zlade's kit. "I'll entrust him to you then."
After I'd eaten, Akri insisted I play a card game with her while Zlade continued to work. It was a good distraction, at least until Atta turned on the TV. Per my request he flipped the channel to the Iasona news. It seemed like things had quieted a bit in GreyCross since the last I'd heard, although there had been several riots around the Tower.
"No one is happy with Era right now," said Zlade, his eyes on his work, but obviously listening to the news. "The only reason Era hasn't gone into Saydea to drag us out is because Dentrin keeps selling him new machinery. He also delivered this little redhead kid to the Tower. It's broke out now all over that apparently this little guy can make magic."
"...He can," I uttered. "That's Sylvain--Dentrin's High Saydea Project that I tried to get the Strejca to go in and kill."
"Oh, Sol," Zlade began. "I don't know why I didn't make that connection. Well no wonder the Strejca have had it rough. Oh, but there've been rumors that Era's turned his attention to Ifearor instead of Souloroh."
"What? Ifearor hasn't done anything to Iason. If anything Era should be grateful to them for staying out of his business," I argued.
"President Shellman had a conference with Lozhen Era not too long ago," Atta spoke up from behind the couch. "They made a deal because a new Saydea facility is being built in southern Souloroh."
"Ah, so Shellman got on his good side," I murmured. That would explain Era's sudden change of plans. Saydea had always been in a close partnership with the Tower. And now they were sure to get even closer with the exchange of Saydea's newest bioweapon. Just as I'd finished speaking the news showed a picture of Sylvain with Era's hand on his shoulder.
"The Tower is still cheering for Saydea's newest gift--a revolutionary young being with amazing, almost mystical abilities. Known as High Saydea Project Sylvain, this creation is known to alter the very molecules of objects, and has the uncanny ability to read minds."
It showed footage of Sylvain raising a thin arm toward a vase placed on the desk of an office. The vase's glaze changed from a deep red to a vibrant blue, and the flowers browned and wilted inside. I gawked at this. I had seen some miraculous things, but this was... unreal. Otherworldly.
"How did he do that?" I couldn't help but utter. There was no way. Absolutely no way that any type of being could have the powers to alter matter itself, especially without coming in contact with it. I could get by knowing Sylvain had manipulated me. I could wave off the fact that he and I exchanged thoughts. But this? The expression on Sylvain's face was not a happy one. In fact he looked... sad. He looked used and dejected, as if he were tired of performing for people. The idea of him truly believing he was a god came back when I saw his look and his power. This was honestly a remarkable gift he had, and it could be devastating. But to me it looked as though Sylvain did not want to use it for the Tower.
"That is incredible," Zlade uttered, having paused to watch.
"He's not going to let the Tower use him," I breathed, still staring at the deadness in Sylvain's eyes as they showed a scene of Dentrin handing him over to Era. I wasn't about to tell the others that I spoke to Sylvain telepathically. Zlade had already heard about it, but I wasn't so sure I wanted Atta to know.
"Why is that?" Atta spoke up.
I sighed a bit. "I know Sylvain. I've been in Saydea, and we've spoken a lot. He doesn't care at all about Dentrin or Era. He's got this weird idea that he's a god incarnate, and he wants to save the world. Dentrin may be able to control machines, but Sylvain is completely biological. He has a mind of his own."
"So... he's crazy then," Atta concluded.
"Most likely."
It took another couple of hours for Zlade to finish with the leg. After he'd worked in all the wiring and inner casing, he plastered the model with its realistic skin, shaped it, smoothed it out, added nails to the toes, and finished it off by hardening it all with a tiny coat of resin that gave it a bit of shine. From afar it looked exactly like a real leg. Close up, one could still see the seam separating my knee from the prosthetic. In the end, however, it was like I'd never lost a limb. I could move the bionic leg easily from using nerve and muscle sensors near the knee. Toanwar and Zlade didn't often work with cyborg-type parts, but when they did, their end results were remarkable.
I stood to test it out, striding across the living room with only the tiniest limp. The brace on my thigh helped take most of the hard weight off my knee and prevent too much pain. It looked slightly bulky under my pant leg, but I was grateful for it. Just as I'd finished my testing the front door shut.
"You don't look so gimpy anymore, blackie." I looked up at Rook, who tossed the hovercycle key card on the dining table. "Thanks for letting me borrow your bike, by the way."
"Am I safe to assume it's still in one piece, Mr. Lucky?" I asked.
He snorted and grinned. "No, I wrecked it completely. Pieces everywhere. You should have seen the chaos--I totally went flying."
His sarcasm was also refreshing. I felt lighter and happier than the day before. Sylvain's message had been daunting last night, but even when I saw Rook now I didn't think of him as a god. I saw him as my death-cheating friend.
"I should get going as soon as I can," I stated. "Stelliot's somewhere to the south."
Atta turned my way with a quirk of his brow. "Somewhere?"
I mentally cursed, having forgotten what I told him the day before. "I..."
Zlade was quick to cover for me. "It's been hard trying to keep in touch with Crow since he was in Roavo," he said. "We took Stelliot to southern Souloroh, but never managed to tell him where. We were on a bit of a time crunch."
"Ah, I see," Atta replied in a slow manner.
"And I'm sure Stelliot is dying to see me," I added.
"It's a shame you can't stay longer," said Atta. As I looked at him, I read in this eyes that he knew more than he let on. "We'll have to keep in touch. Now that I know you still exist, how about we exchange phone numbers?" Agreeing, I did so with him.
"How will you be getting back, Zlade?" I asked once finished.
Zlade shrugged. "Toanwar said to call him when I finished. He's probably going to come get me. Oh, and here." He felt in one of his jacket pockets and withdrew a small box of Jux bullets, which he handed to me. "I was told you may need some rounds after getting out."
I took them gratefully. "Toanwar has my thanks yet again. And so do you, Zlade."
He simply nodded his head.
I glanced at Rook, and he read my thoughts. "I don't have any place to go, blackie. If you wouldn't mind taking me along with you for now..."
I grinned at him. "You may as well, Rook. I owe you my life. And besides, I may need more of your luck."
"You keep talking about that," said Atta. "What makes him so lucky?"
Rook smi
rked as he leaned against the entryway wall. I answered for him. "Rook has a history of miraculously getting out of every bad situation unscathed, like some kind of god." Though it was made out as a joke Rook glanced at me, his face washing with surprise for a moment. I ignored the look, trying to keep the mood lighthearted while still around my brother’s family.
After I'd said my goodbyes while hugging Atta, Lorna, Zlade, and Akri, I walked out into the sun with Rook behind me--both of us wearing new clothes that Atta had been gracious enough to give to us. Despite the heat I had put my coat back on, feeling more like myself as the familiar items clinked in the pockets. I took a minute to slide the new rounds into my Jux's empty magazine before I straddled the bike, turning it on and watching as it blew debris down the street from its rounded thrusters. Rook climbed on a moment later, holding onto the back bars.
"Where to, blackie?"
I checked the cardinal directions, closed my eyes, and tried to feel an ethereal presence. It felt silly of me to rely on feelings like this, but I had no direction otherwise. If anything I would simply pick a direction and start heading that way.
"Southwest," I answered.
"...That's in the direction of Roavo."
"We'll be going around it," I answered. "Now hang on, because I'm not slowing down unless you have to pee."
13
A Survivor of Time
"Crow," Rook started several minutes after we were out in the desert. Sand parted like waves behind the hovercycle, but besides the wind it was easy to keep up a normal conversation without the deafening sound of a typical motorcycle engine.
"You were just... You weren't honestly thinking my luck is miraculous, do you?"
I looked at my side mirror, trying to see his face. I knew the conversation was bound to happen at some point. He obviously caught the attention of my god comment before we’d left Atta’s.