by Jacob Holo
Veketon looked up, his face tired and defeated.
“Is Quennin alive?” he asked. “Did you get to her in time?”
“Why would one such as you care about another?” Seth asked.
“Is she alive?” Veketon snapped. “I’ve waited long enough, haven’t I? Just give me an answer!”
Jack grabbed Veketon by the shoulder and shoved him to the ground. He gasped and lay there motionless.
“Now, now,” Jack said. “Let’s see some manners. You, as the prisoner, answer questions. We, as the captors, ask them.”
Veketon struggled to his knees, wincing from the effort.
“I think he’s had enough for now,” Seth said.
Jack backed away a few steps, sword humming softly.
“Veketon, you will have your answer,” Seth said. “But only after I have received mine.”
Veketon rose to his feet. He looked at Seth and, after a moment of indecision, nodded slowly.
“First, what are you doing out here?” Seth asked.
“Fighting the Disciples of Vayl. What else could I be doing?”
“Why?”
“Because they were a threat to my power before I… before this.”
Tesset leaned in and whispered into Seth’s ear. “His reasons aren’t that simple. I’m getting a strong sense of shame from him. He’s holding something important back.”
Seth nodded and spoke clearly for everyone to hear. “That couldn’t possibly be the whole story. Certainly, the Disciples are a powerful force. Their use of Ziggurat technology and the new Gate they opened to the Lunatic Realm are proof of that. Tell me what you know of them.”
“The two that remain alive are called Zophiel and Othaniel, the children of Vierj. They serve a creature named Vayl, whom I believe is an entity within the Lunatic Realm, most likely a chaos fiend. Opening this new Gate is merely the first step. They plan to invade this universe, and through it, to eventually assault the Homeland itself.”
Murmurs of surprise spread through the crowd, and Seth turned to Tesset. She looked bewildered by the revelations, but nodded anyway. At the very least, Veketon believed his own words.
So, Seth thought. If Quennin was right about this, could she be right about everything else?
“I find this puzzling, Veketon. You goal is one of conquest, and yet here you are fighting to protect the Homeland.”
Veketon’s eyes snapped wide in shock. He stared at a blank spot on the floor, clearly lost in his own mind. “I… I mean… no… ahh… I mean, yes, of course. Of course I was. The Disciples are a threat, and I had to neutralize them. What good is becoming the ruler of a wasteland?”
Tesset leaned in, but Seth waved her away.
“Is that really your sole reason?”
Veketon refused to meet his gaze. “You and your blind empath think you understand me, but you do not.”
“You saw a threat to the Homeland, and your first reaction was to plunge into a reckless full scale war against it. That is a curious action for someone like you.”
“Do not pretend to know my mind.”
Seth nodded. “If that is your answer, then so be it. Jack, escort the prisoner to a spare room and lock him inside. We will deliver him to the Choir and let them pass judgment.”
“Come on,” Jack pushed Veketon forward.
“Wait! You can’t be serious!” Veketon shouted. “What about the Disciples?”
“Jack, stop.” Seth kept his face perfectly neutral as he met Veketon’s horrified expression. “Are you proposing a different course of action?”
“The Disciple Gate must be destroyed! It’s too dangerous to just seal! We cannot allow a chaos fiend to enter this universe!”
“And why would you care what happens to this universe?”
“BECAUSE IT MATTERS TO QUENNIN!!!”
Silence fell over the bay.
“Even… even if she’s dead.” Veketon lowered his head and slumped to his knees. “Because that’s what Quennin would want me to do.”
“But what of your quest to rule the Homeland?”
“What does all the power in all the realms matter if no one is there to share it with?” Veketon shook his head and wiped at his eyes. “If Quennin is dead, you might as well kill me now and be done with it. I don’t care anymore. I’m done fighting.”
Tesset leaned in and whispered. “He’s telling the truth, Seth. He actually believes this!”
Seth nodded. Look at him. His psyche is in tatters. Oh, my beloved, could you be right after all?
“She’s dead, isn’t she?” Veketon said.
“I have another question for you,” Seth said.
“Name it. I won’t resist anymore.”
“Do you seek redemption?”
Veketon raised his head slowly.
“You have committed horrible crimes against humanity. But if what you say is true, then you must seek redemption. Do you?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“Well, I do know the answer.” Seth leaned in. “I have seen the evidence. You are directionless. You fight battles that clash with your old ambitions, and when a threat appeared to this universe and to the Homeland, you attacked it with all your strength. Veketon, I know what it is you truly thirst for.”
“And what might that be?”
“Purpose restored. You wish to serve the Homeland once again.”
“No… that’s not… that can’t be…”
“Seth, are you serious?” Jack asked.
“I am.”
Murmurs spread through the crowd like wildfire.
Seth ignored everything and everyone around him except Veketon. “I will ordain you as a Keeper, and you will serve humanity again.”
“No, you don’t understand. I can’t go back. No, I won’t!”
“Then perhaps you truly are worthless now. Stay here as a prisoner on this ship. Wait in safety while the rest of us fight and die to save this universe. I am sure Quennin would be proud of that decision.”
Seth turned his back to Veketon and headed for the lift. He almost reached it.
“WAIT!!!”
Seth spun around on his heels. Veketon was still on his knees, a desperate look on his face.
“What is your decision?” Seth asked.
“I…”
“Yes?”
Veketon lowered his head. “I have… forgotten the words.”
“Then repeat the words after me.”
Veketon hesitated, pausing in some inner battle. Finally, he nodded his head and looked up.
Seth spoke the Keeper’s Oath in a loud, clear voice, and Veketon followed along with each verse.
“Though my Lance be Splintered
And my Shield be Sundered
Though my Eyes be Blinded
And my Ears be Deafened
Though my Bones be Broken
And my Wings be Torn
Though my Heart be Pierced
And my Chest be Stilled
I Swear to Defend the Homeland
For I am a Keeper of the Gates!”
Veketon wiped the tears out of his eyes.
“Tesset?” Seth asked.
“It’s hard to believe, but he intends to follow his oath.”
“Well, I still don’t trust him,” Jack said.
“Then let us be sure,” Seth said. “Tesset, if you have any questions about his intentions, find your answers.”
“Right.” Tesset knelt next to Veketon and took his face in her hands. She leaned in, their foreheads almost touching, and gazed at him with an eyeless stare. The two of them stayed like that for several minutes, unmoving except for an occasional twitch on Veketon’s face.
Finally, Tesset let him go and stood up. “I have no doubts. This is genuine.”
“Very well,” Seth said. “Arise, my fellow Keeper.”
Veketon rose awkwardly to his feet and tried to stand up straight. His injuries obviously still caused him pain, but his slipsuit must have repaired most of the damage.
“Jack, your protection is no longer needed,” Seth said.
“Are you sure?”
“Let it go.”
“Okay, but I hope you know what you’re doing.” Jack let his sword flicker away.
Veketon rubbed a fist underneath his reddened eyes.
“Come on. Let’s go see Quennin together.”
Seth guided Veketon into the lift. Jack was about to follow, but Seth held up a hand. The door closed, and the lift accelerated away with both men silent. When it arrived, they walked across the pilot concourse and entered the medical ward.
The ward was a sanitary white hall with partitioned rooms on one side and robotic operators hanging from the ceiling. Seth gestured to the first room and followed Veketon in.
Quennin lay on a low medical slab, her body almost completely hidden beneath overlapping nano-cilia bandages. Her chest rose and fell at a slow, pained tempo. Of her face, only her mouth was visible through a gap in the layers of white rubbery bandages.
“Quennin?” Veketon asked quietly. He walked over and knelt beside her.
Quennin’s hand twitched. Veketon slid his fingers underneath hers and gently squeezed. Seth had to force himself to keep watching.
“Is that you, Vek?” she asked hoarsely, then coughed.
“Yeah. It’s me.”
“We almost lost her.” Seth knelt next to Veketon. “She was in horrible shape when we got her out of the throne, almost delirious with pain, but the first thing she asked about was you. Over and over again, even as the robots mended her body, she said you’d changed, you’d changed, you’d changed. That you just hadn’t realized it yet.”
Veketon looked at him, surprise written all over his face. Quennin curled her lips into a weak smile.
“And she was right,” Seth said.
Chapter 16
Friction
Quennin slowly pulled her right arm through the sleeve and winced.
“Ah. Nn. Ehh.”
She panted, one arm into the loose-fitting storm-gray shirt. She reached around, found the other hole, and eased her left arm through.
“Ah. Ohh. Gnh.”
Quennin breathed a deep sigh of relief now that she had both arms through the shirt. Her head ached and her rebuilt eyes wouldn’t focus properly, but she wasn’t going to wait around in the Judgment’s medical ward. She’d already been out for a whole day. Anything could have happened, and she was going to find out what.
Quennin pressed the shirt’s front edges together, letting the material knit itself solid, and picked up the cane next to her futon. The ship had provided the items upon request but had done nothing else. Heavy blocks surrounded her neural link like an invisible wall, preventing her from accessing anything or anyone outside the medical ward.
But that wouldn’t stop her.
Quennin gripped the top of her cane and, with trembling arms, rose to her feet. She took a short breather once upright and tried one last time to contact Veketon through her neural link. Once again, the Judgment’s computers blocked her request. She didn’t even know if the door would open, but she hobbled stubbornly towards it and was pleasantly surprised when it parted for her.
Quennin stepped into what looked like two hazy overlapping corridors. Her eyes could focus; they just took longer to complete the task. Two identical pilots walked towards her.
“Pilot Nezrii,” Quennin said with a curt nod.
Yonu crossed her arms. “Citizen S’Kev.”
Quennin kept her face neutral, ignoring the blatant insult. Her eyes focused, merging the twin images in front of her.
“I wonder,” Yonu said. “Is there anything you’d like to tell me?”
“If you are looking for an apology, you have come to the wrong place.”
Yonu smiled coldly. “Yes, I thought you might say something like that.”
“I did what was necessary to survive.”
“And how many lives did your survival cost? I’m curious, did you feel anything when you killed my parents?”
“It was them or me.”
“Keep telling yourself that. I’m sure it helps you sleep at night.”
“I don’t need to justify my actions to you.”
“I suppose that’s true enough.” Yonu leaned closer and spoke softly. “But if it were up to me, I would kill you where you stand.”
“You don’t frighten me.”
“Of course not. Seth’s orders protect you from harm. I will, of course, follow his lead, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
Quennin glanced down the corridor to either side. She tried linking to the ship’s layout, but the Judgment’s computers blocked her.
“Looking for something?” Yonu asked.
“Yes, actually.”
“Then ask.” Yonu put on a fake grin. “We are allies of a sort. I would be happy to assist you.”
“In that case, I’d like to talk to Veketon.”
Yonu accessed her neural link, the false expression never leaving her face. “He’s in the rec center.”
“And where is that?”
“This ship is laid out exactly like the Resolute, so I’m sure you can find your way. As you may recall, the Resolute was last ship you served on before you turned traitor.”
Quennin hobbled away without saying another word. She progressed down the corridor slowly, but the mild exercise seemed to do her good. Her muscles began to unknot, and the pain slowly subsided.
Yonu stayed a few steps behind her, perhaps enjoying her pained trek through the ship. After several minutes, she reached the rec center’s entrance.
A sense of nostalgia swept through her upon seeing the carefully duplicated room. She recalled leaving its twin and charging into battle against the Bane together with Seth, the Renseki, and…
And then she remembered how many of those pilots, friends throughout her whole life, she had personally killed in battle.
I had no choice, she thought. If I had not killed them, they would have killed me.
Those words echoed in her mind. Always before, they had comforted her. But now, in this room, they rang hollow. She wondered if she’d been lying to herself all these years, and if perhaps there had been another way.
Quennin limped in, prompting a few pilots and crew members to glance her way. Some continued to stare, but most quickly returned to their meals or holographic games. She swept her gaze across the room, trying to find Veketon amidst the unfocused double images.
“I don’t understand how you’re doing this,” a vaguely familiar voice said.
“It really isn’t that difficult,” said a second far more familiar voice.
“Vek?” Quennin said quietly.
“But I’ve never seen someone play this fast. Are you sure you’re not cheating?”
“Quite sure. Check mate.”
“What? Let me see that… you— How’d you do that?”
“You implemented your defenses poorly. I simply exploited the flaws.”
“Hmm, I don’t know about that. Let’s try this again, and this time I’m going to watch and make sure you don’t cheat.”
The second figure sighed dully.
Yonu came beside to her. “Is something wrong with your eyesight?”
Quennin faced the two Yonus.
“Yes.”
Yonu sighed and gestured across the room. “Your master is over there in the back. If you like, I can hold your hand and guide you across.”
Quennin ignored her and proceeded through the double-imaged maze of circular tables and pulled-out chairs. She reached Veketon’s table to find several surprises.
Veketon sat with his back to her opposite a pilot who could only be Jared Daykin. The man’s cheerful, if slightly vacant, demeanor hadn’t changed at all in ten years. The two were playing an Earth game on an eight by eight grid of white and black squares, each of them moving a force of white or black figures one at a time.
Two former enemies gaming together was odd enough, but Veketon still wore
his slipsuit. The suit’s amplifiers made every part of him a deadly weapon, but even stranger, he still had his sword!
Veketon rested his head on a fist and moved another piece with a dreary sigh. In contrast, Jared barely kept up with the game’s frantic pace.
“Check,” Veketon said dully.
“Oh dear.” Jared moved a tall piece with a crown back one square.
“Check.”
“Oh!”
“Check.”
“Oh, come on!”
“Check mate.”
“Not again!”
“Your defenses—”
“Were poorly implemented. Yes, I know.” Jared picked up the playing pieces and reset the board.
“Jared!” Yonu snapped.
He quickly raised his head. “Yes?”
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Ummm… playing chess?”
“I can see that! But why him?”
“Ummm… because I was curious?”
“Curious!”
“Well, he is our ally now,” Jared said. “We all saw him swear that oath, and Tesset says he’s changed, so it must be true. Besides, as newly allied pilots, I thought I’d make the extra effort to get to know him.”
“Please make him stop,” Veketon moaned, still facing Jared. “He keeps following me around.”
“But it’s really quite fascinating,” Jared said. “I’ve never seen anyone think their moves through so quickly. Are you sure you’ve never played before?”
“Quite sure.”
“Then how come you’re so good at it?”
“It’s a very simple game.”
“Simple! I will have you know that chess is not—”
Jared stopped and slowly looked up again, his finger in mid-wag. Quennin didn’t know what to make of his startled face, but at least it wasn’t filled with bitter resentment like Yonu’s.
“Well, I think that’s enough for now.” Jared cleared the board of playing pieces and pressed a button on the side. The top opened smoothly, and he fit the pieces into pre-sized slots.
“Hello, Jared,” Quennin said.
Veketon turned around and saw Quennin for the first time. He hurried out of his seat.
“Quennin, what are… I thought you’d still be sleeping. I just stepped out to get something to eat and next thing I knew Pilot Daykin was pulling out this archaic game of his. I’m sorry, but I didn’t intend to be away this long.”