Anchor Knight

by Nathan Thompson

  "I figured," I told her, nodding firmly.

  Truthfully, I had been hunted by the powerful all my life, by those who thought I was hiding some dangerous, secret treasure. And they were right. Somehow, in less than ten years, my parents had managed to drill expansive portions of my planet's science, art, and history into my brain. But my hunters had been unable to discover it.

  With Vessa and Grandmother Mara's help, I realized I could keep my new treasures a secret as well. Until I was finally ready to overthrow all my tyrants.

  "Speaking of those dragons," Vessa said, "can I take another look at them?"

  I nodded, and opened my Soulscape.

  Vessa and Mara finally had a chance to talk last night, just before everyone went to bed. I wasn't sure exactly what they talked about, as they switched to mental communication somehow after the first few sentences. Then I was just left awkwardly sitting there, while two women nodded knowingly to each other without saying anything.

  "They are so adorable," Vessa said wistfully as she started into my spirit.

  "Thank you, dear Vessel-Saint," Grandmother Mara replied kindly.

  The hatchlings in question were actually playing together at the moment. Topa was scampering around looking for a coin Dimali hadn't stacked into a pile yet. Whenever he thought he found one, the little black dragon would flick it past his sister. If it was one she'd already seen, the white dragon would just scamper over and put it back where Topa had found it, as she had somehow managed to remember every place she organized so far, even if the 'organization' was just a rickety pile of unbalanced objects out in the middle of the ground. But if she hadn't seen the coin yet, Dimali would let out an excited mew, and chase after the coin, which would make Topa chase after her.

  The two were hours of fun, especially whenever Nestor was able to visit them. But right now, Vessa was more concerned about their growth.

  "They're already a third of the way through the natal stage, which is rare even for dragons," she said, watching the children intently.

  "We owe that to the circumstances of their birth, dear vessel-saint," Grandmother Mara replied. "They came to life in a world that was pure spirit, and their bodies underwent the same baptism that their older brother went through. The bond isn't quite active yet, but once they get a little older they will be able to leave their brother's sanctuary, and start their own paths of Advancement—to the benefit of both themselves and your Anchor Knight, Holy Vessel-Saint."

  "I'm still not comfortable with calling him that," Vessa said with a sideways glance at me, "or with just how much danger your grandchildren will be in if they visit my ship."

  "Danger?" the ancient dragon chuckled. "They are in danger now, Holy Saint, just as the young rider and I are. For now, our fates are bound to his own. But take heart, dear Holy One. They are far safer here than they were when they were in my sanctuary. And I would still be bleeding out on a cavern floor if your young rider hadn't stubbornly insisted on bringing me here." A small squeak sounded behind us, and Mara smiled wide. "And his fluffy brother as well. They are quite insistent young men."

  "That they are," Vessa said with a smile of her own. "But that concludes what I needed to know. Thank you, elder dragon, for your time." The gray shipwoman looked over at Nova, who had helped herself to a second breakfast by grabbing her own handful of jerky while we were talking.

  "I'm listening," the blonde woman mumbled between bites. "Go ahead."

  Should-cook-more? Nestor asked in my mind, observing the sudden increase in the two beautiful women’s appetites.

  Apparently so, I told the little mouse, who began jumping up and down.

  Yes-yes! he said as he landed and jumped again in circular patterns. More-food!

  That last comment annoyed me a bit. If there had been a problem with the amount of food I cooked, everyone really should have told me about it, instead of leaving me to figure it out on my own.

  But-did-tell, Nestor pointed out, just-now.

  Good point, I admitted reluctantly, before Vessa began talking.

  "Anyway," the ship-woman began, giving her Beacon a suspicious look. "I took another look through my new surveillance systems, and I think we need to wait on reclaiming any more rooms for the time being. Too many creatures on the same level of that crocodile jerk are moving around right now, and most of them are close to the edge of my territory. If we strike now, we might trigger a full-scale assault from those groups, one that might overwhelm both my wards and my doors. Instead, I want you two to deactivate, destroy, or remove the boarding portals near the short-range teleport system. That will allow me to better maintain my own systems, and will also decrease the number of new boarders coming onto my ship-body." She blinked slowly, and I realized she was trying to anticipate our questions. "The reason you are taking the short-range teleport, instead of just using the teleportation device in my sanctuary, is because the short-range teleporter can not only send you to the exact location needed, it will equip you with a shell of energy that will enable you to survive in the void between stars. It will be good for at least six hours," the ship-woman added, catching the very question I had raised my hand to ask. "And it comes with a spell that keeps you updated on how much time you have left before the shell expires. But I'm going to go ahead and pull you both back at the five-hour mark, just to be safe, assuming nothing happens that makes me pull you both back sooner. Now for questions," she said, looking back and forth between me, Nova, and the little mouse perched on my shoulder.

  "What are we likely to encounter on the outside of the ship?" I asked first.

  "That's a good question," Vessa said with a nod. "And one I'm not entirely certain I can answer, because nothing has exited the portals but a few packs of eaterlings—which probably means that the original inhabitants of those places have been driven off. But one of the portals has suddenly flared with energy, meaning something big might come through. That one I want you to try and deactivate first. To deactivate them, you should look for a surface on it with glowing script. If you can read the script, it will sometimes tell you a way to deactivate the device. If that isn't an option, you should deface the script with your weapons or Source powers. That will damage it enough to deactivate it. I'd prefer you to completely break them down to the point where you can remove them, but that won’t always be possible. If you try to remove them without following the inscribed deactivation instructions, you will risk detonating the portals, which will, at the very least, damage my ship-body further, and at the worst, kill both of you."

  "Good warning," Nova said with a nod of her own, before grimacing. "Sorry. Help me remember why deactivating them is as easy as reading the fine print on the side, or scratching it out?"

  "Because these things are extremely expensive and valuable," Vessa replied. "They were hard to make back then, and they might even be impossible to construct now. They wanted them to be recoverable in case an invasion was unsuccessful. Back then, the defenders would deface and then ransom the items off. And since languages were as isolated then as they are today for everywhere except Earth, using certain scripts was an effective way to prevent tampering. Or, just as easily, the technicians on the other side could seal the portal with just a strand of Source energy, so it wasn't easy to turn the portals against their original users. Therefore, the defenders had every reason to deactivate, capture, and ransom the portals, or at least carefully deconstruct them and make use of the parts. But that last method would take time. Time we may have, actually," Vessa added, tapping her chin with her finger. "We'll see. For now, just deactivate as many as you can, and we'll go from there. Do you have another question, Jasper?" she asked as she watched my eyes. I nodded at her.

  "I'm wondering why, if the portals are so easy to deactivate, none of the invaders have bothered to turn them off, especially the ones letting eaterlings in."

  "That," Vessa said, tapping her chin again, "is a very good question. A worrisome one, in fact. Yes, Nova?" she suddenly said, turning to look at her B
eacon.

  "It feels like right now you can guess what I want to do," Nova replied carefully. The angelic, armored, valkyrie had set down the bag of jerky a while ago. Now that no one was looking at it, Nestor had slowly crept down my shoulder and crawled toward it across the tiles.

  I turned my attention back to Nova and Vessa, and saw Vessa inhale to answer, as if she was trying to brace herself for a fight.

  "You're right, Nova," the gray woman finally said, "I can guess that you want to go inside one of the portals and see what's on the other side, and possibly strike at our enemies there. So do I."

  "Wait, really?" my blonde friend asked, tilting her head.

  "Yes." Vessa nodded. "I want to find out where my attackers came from, and by attackers, I mean the local ones that staged a revolt over issues they had never mentioned to me, then boarded and damaged my ship-body, killed my crew-members, and forced me to lie in this capsule, too weak to get my own food or bathe myself, all while I was busy battling invaders from beyond the night sky on the traitors' behalf. I want to find them, find out just how many others of my people they helped kill, get a satisfying explanation for their treachery, and then tear them apart with my bare hands. You're probably getting that desire from me as well, or I'm at least augmenting it."

  "Really?" Nova blinked her light-blue eyes. "We want the same thing right now?"

  "We usually do," Vessa replied. "In fact we almost always want the same thing, and for the same reasons."

  Her head twitched away from me as she spoke, but the next moment her expression became calm and methodical again.

  "We just disagree on how and when we can have the things we want. Like right now. If you, a practitioner at the fourth stage—technically, one at the fourth stage plus a few bonus stages in the other Sources— were to cross the portal and find a threat you couldn't handle, you would die. You wouldn't be able to run back and get help, and you wouldn't even be able to teleport to me, since using the portal would disrupt my teleportation link to you. In fact, I'm not even sure I could still communicate with you. You could be in danger, and I wouldn't even know until you died and sent the trauma of your death back through your link to me. Maybe after we deactivate them and find a way to disassemble one and bring it back on board, we can consider giving it a try. But right now, it's too dangerous to counterattack, and for too many reasons."

  "Got it," Nova said with a firm nod. "That all makes sense."

  "It does?" Vessa asked, blinking in surprise. "You're not going to fight with me on this?"

  "No, you've given me solid reasons for why we can't do that yet, as well as a safer alternative to the original idea. I'd be taking a real risk with all of our lives if I insisted on going down this route. So yeah, I'm not fighting with you on this, and it feels really weird."

  "It does," Vessa agreed hesitantly. "And I feel like something bad is about to happen now."

  An infuriatingly awkward pause settled over us as I tried not to be superstitious regarding Vessa's recent words. She's wrong, I told myself. They've actually been getting along for a while.

  "Will our weapons and Source magic work differently outside?" I asked. "Or can we fight in the same ways we're already used to?"

  "This close to my ship-body, there shouldn't be any problem with your skills and talents," Vessa said confidently. "Technically, I'm even leaking a bit of oxygen and atmosphere through my hull, so the protective bubbles may not even be necessary for survival—unless you get knocked off my surface hard enough to overcome my ship’s gravitational pull. Then you'll need all the help you can get. Unless you can fly," she added, looking at Nova, "so as long as you're conscious, Nova, you should be fine. Which is another reason why this mission is a good idea right now. You'll probably have even more mobility out there. Just don't stray too far from the ship."

  "Understood," her Beacon said with a nod.

  I didn't want to delay us for much longer, but there was one more question I could think of.

  "Will our enemies have similar atmospheric restrictions that we can somehow exploit, or will they be completely immune to the conditions outside your ship-body?"

  "It's going to be a mix," Vessa answered. "But I can't say for certain. If anything comes through one of the portals, then it will have a similar bubble over it that will help survive the weak atmosphere, though it won't last nearly as long as your protection. It's possible to wear the protection down, especially with enough violence, but usually your enemy will already be dead by then. But creatures like the eaterlings won't even need their bubble, as they can survive on low amounts of atmosphere, and their Advanced versions don't even need to breathe at all. And I probably still have some flyers out there, corrupted Sourcebeasts that can thrive in near-vacuum. There might even be some nesting nearby, though I couldn't find any with my scans." The gray woman frowned as she considered that point. "In the end, just like with the inside of my ship-body, I can never be absolutely certain that you three won't encounter something much stronger than you. And every time I assume Jasper won't," she paused to roll her eyes at me, "he winds up making me look ridiculous. So just be careful, and run if you have to. I mean it. We can just try again later if we have to."

  But not too much later, I thought to myself, as Vessa exhaled.

  "And that's it, unless there are any remaining questions. We can head out as soon as we're ready." She looked down at herself. "And as soon as Jasper carries me out of my capsule again."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  "I'll take point," Nova said as she began walking briskly.

  "Why?" I asked my friend, but she quickly outpaced me, without so much as looking back. When Vessa cleared her throat, I realized what was happening.

  "Hey, Jas?" the beautiful gray woman in my arms asked. "Do you mind if we take a moment to talk?"

  "Sure, Vessa," I replied. "What do you want to talk about?"

  "I know we said we're in a bit of a hurry," she said self-consciously, "but I wanted to apologize to you."

  "For what?" I asked as I ducked through one of the doorways, careful not to hit her head on any of the metal sides. Since I'd had plenty of practice by now, it wasn't a problem.

  "I've been sort of resenting you," she admitted, looking away from me. "You've always been so solicitous around me, and while part of me appreciated the care, another part thought you were pitying me. I didn't like it. I had been surviving without it for years—even though it wasn't much of a survival, being stuck in that bed—but it was still hard to get used to some stranger seeing me in my weakest state, and seeing him decide that he needed to just drop everything and wait on me hand and foot."

  "Did I overdo it?" I tried to stifle my annoyance and keep my tone neutral as I turned around a corner to enter another hallway. I had noticed that Vessa had been uncomfortable with my help, and I had tried to respect her boundaries. But almost every time I went against my instincts and let her try to do something on her own, she had literally fallen on her face, or would have if I hadn't stuck around to catch her. It felt aggravating to hear how much trouble she had with accepting the fact that I was saving her life and helping her get better, but the part of me that understood why she felt that way helped the rest of me let it go.

  So did her apology. She continued to make it.

  "No, and that made me resent you even more," she said, sounding bitter and ashamed. "I hated how powerless I was, and I hated how you always seemed to notice. Every time I couldn't get out of the capsule on my own or wanted a drink of water or even got cold, you noticed, and did something about it. I felt like you saw straight through everything but my weakness, and I thought you did it because you thought I was this pitiful, broken thing, that you were so much better than. And yes, I know what you looked like when you first arrived on my ship, or what you thought you looked like. But Jas, I saw you stand tall, fight smart, and completely take apart an eaterling with nothing more than some sparks and a broken tile. Then you succeeded on every mission you went on, and—look, that's not
the point." She shook her head. "The point is, you always looked strong, when I felt weak. And I thought you were coddling me from a position of strength. But you weren't."

  "No," I said as I stepped carefully around another corner. "I wasn't."

  "And I just realized it this morning," Vessa agreed. "You didn't do all those things because I was weak, and you were always worried about me. You did all those things because they were what you wanted someone to do for you when you were broken, hungry, and alone. You wanted someone to come to your side and hand you a packet of food that you kept pretending you didn't need, and then tell you it's okay to have a second one. You wanted someone to notice when you would be cold, and then give you clean blankets and clothes. And when something awful was coming for you, when even your family was gone, and you were finally ready to admit that you were tired and spent and broken, you wanted someone else to come by, ignore you when you told them to leave, and to fight for you." She sniffed quietly, and I did my best not to notice. "And I didn't ever consider that. Even when you shared your story. So thank you. And I'm sorry."