He discovered he was going to find out as Dulcere headed straight for one. She flipped down a bar that swung down some steps, and hopped up, lifted the bar in the railing and began ushering everyone onto the platform.
Fifth in line as the others clambered up with curious expressions, he had some nagging suspicions about what was going to happen. Quasar stepped up last, pulled the steps up and lowered the movable rail down behind her. She brushed her hair around in front of her, leaned back against the rail and folded her arms.
Dulcere moved to the rail opposite the steps and pressed a finger into a slot in the top of the metal cylinder and pulled down. A small section swung out revealing a matrix of raised symbols that she tapped on. She put a hand on the rail and looked back.
Before anyone could protest or ask a question there was a hissing sound, a thump, and low whirring that made the platform vibrate. Bannor’s heart lurched and he grabbed hold of the rail as the whole dais rose off the floor of the canyon and hushed forward with a rumble.
There was a chorus of grunts and gasps of surprise from the people unfamiliar with the phenomenon, as the artifice accelerated to a speed that had the air hissing through his hair.
“Whoa,” Daena breathed. “It’s fast!”
Janai muttered something that was probably an elvish curse.
Aarlen, Beia and Senalloy made no overt reaction, apparently used to such things. Corim frowned, obviously not surprised, but not overly fond of the experience.
Wren gripped the rail with white knuckles, the experience obviously new and not welcome. Ziedra’s dusky skin had paled, and her gold husband had an arm around her saying soothing words.
Bannor glanced back to Quasar. The ancient Kriar warrior lounged against the rail, arms hanging over the back and long-hair flying in the wind of their velocity. Her green eyes were hooded in what looked like a drowse.
She seemed to notice his attention and smiled. With her gold skin glistening with jewels in the light and her long hair flowing out behind her, she was a striking sight.
Her comely appearance only reminded him of how dangerous this creature was. Hecate was only half as dangerous as this female. Quasar was not hampered by insanity, and she had the benefit of a staggering amount of knowledge and experience. Such a thing was disconcerting enough in a creature that was basically peaceful like Dulcere. He had no such illusions about Quasar. The only consolation he had was the fact that Quasar’s main concern seemed more the protection of her people. Of course, that could just be a façade. He sure hoped there was no cause to make her an enemy. He would not catch her again as he had in their initial encounter, this was a person who learned from her mistakes.
The moving platform hissed along, passing underneath the gigantic vessels, silent behemoths with gleaming metallic skin that pulsed with energy. Bannor stared up with a held breath, marveling that such things were possible by creatures without magic.
At the far end of the canyon sat a much smaller vessel. It was still huge by all the standards that Bannor was accustomed to, but it was roughly half the size of the other massive ships. This artifice looked significantly different from the others. It was long and thin with a needle-pointed prow, the wings were more obvious and swept back at sharp angles. The machine’s power source and motive force emanated from four large elongated teardrop structures mounted two above and below the hull. The much larger ships employed only two of those constructs, and this one had four. Everything about the huge machine’s design suggested speed. Now growing familiar with the Kriar, if it looked fast, it probably was… on a scale as staggering as everything else they created.
Dulcere directed their platform to a place directly underneath the speedy-looking vessel, and stopped in a white square painted on the canyon floor. She pulled something black off her side, tapped on it for a moment then aimed the device up toward the belly of the vessel hanging some twenty paces over their heads.
There was a thrumming sound. Sections of the void-ship’s skin lit up. Bright shafts of light radiated from small spherical projections, the beams fanning the area in circles. A line of illumination forming a square lit up. There was a startling blare of what sounded like a horn blasts that began to repeat as the ship’s skin split apart with a hiss, the mechanism whining as arms of metal pivoted out of panels and took up positions above and below the widening gap. When the doors were fully open, lights stabbed down onto the platform, making the whole structure shudder.
Quasar who was leaning off the back didn’t move, the rest did as advised as their conveyance hummed with a gradually higher pitch until it began to rise. Bannor felt his stomach tighten. He did not like flying—even short distances. While in Gladshiem, he’d learned to live with it out of necessity, but still wasn’t fond of it.
They rose at a firm and steady pace, the process obviously designed for moving freight onto and off the ship.
He glanced at Quasar who was still leaning back over the rail. He looked to the opening overhead their platform was rising toward. It seemed small, but he guessed it was exactly the size of their conveyance—anything hanging over the edge would experience a very unpleasant trimming. What was she doing? Didn’t she see? This woman had been around the Kriar artifices for eons, she had to know the hazard…
The edge was approaching and still Quasar had not moved. Everyone else was looking up into the belly of the void ship. The black-clad Kriar hung back over the rail seemingly oblivious to the danger. His breath caught and his heart started to beat faster.
At the last possible instant when she didn’t move, he lunged forward, hooked around her neck and yanked her away from the rail. The jeweled-woman fell forward against his chest, her arms wrapped around him to catch herself.
“What were you doing?” he demanded.
Quasar looked up at him, glowing green-eyes dim, the jewels on her face glinting. She smiled. “Thank you.” She pushed back from him gently. “You are suspicious of me, and I frighten you, yet you acted to defend me.”
He frowned at her. “Of course. Scary or not, you have as much right to live as anyone else. At least until you do something unforgivable.”
The dimly illuminated area looked much like the hold of a sailing vessel except that it was made of metal and far larger than he was used to. The ribbed and reinforced ceiling was still some seven or eight paces up. A caustic burning smell hung in the air, the atmosphere itself stuffy and oppressive. Nets, carrying rigs, and roller carts were flung around the chamber and smashed. Everything lay in a shambles, colored containers made of some shiny fibrous material ripped apart and deformed, the contents spilled across the floor.
The jeweled Kriar stepped forward, turned and lifted the rail, then lifted a second rail that had mated with it when the platform had come up through the skin of the ship. She looked around with serious expression and stepped out into the wreckage and around the rail to make room for the others. Bannor followed her, watching his footing in the shadowy space.
“How do you know I haven’t already done something unforgivable?” she asked, turning back to him and watching as Daena and the others began to file out.
He rubbed the back of his head. “I don’t.” He shrugged. “When you said you wanted to protect your people it felt to me like the truth. I saw in you someone who had experienced loss and felt a desire to atone.”
The Kriar woman leaned forward, glowing green eyes narrowing. She reached up and put her hand behind his neck. He leaned back a little, far from trusting this powerful creature.
Quasar’s voice dropped. “And what would you know about that?”
Bannor sighed, looking into the bright gleam of her eyes. “You share a very tangible connection with another. There is a great deal of hurt between yourself and that person. Something you feel is a betrayal, but at the same time feel is justified.”
Qu
asar raised her chin, eyes narrowing. She drew a breath.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to break down and think there’s something interesting about humans after all?” Aarlen said stopping by Quasar’s shoulder.
The Kriar turned her head and eyed the white-haired elder. “Not at all—he’s not human.” She tilted her head to one side and looked at him. “Tell me, this other person you feel is connected to me. Can you feel them?”
Bannor looked at her and pushed out his lower lip. He closed his eyes. Feeling along the ephemeral threads that connected Quasar to someone who could be no less than a life-mate, bonded to her for what must be eons. The connection was so strong. To be apart from someone so close had to be almost physically painful.
He sighed. It was painful. For both of them. More because Quasar’s mate felt he must be apart. A great disappointment? A fall from grace? No, a betrayal of self.
He swallowed. A person totally devoted to another, following them, supporting them regardless of consequences or wrongness. It hit very close to home for him. The kind of devotion he had to Sarai, drawn out to a relationship of spanning dozens of millennia.
“It hurts,” Bannor said. “He doesn’t want to be apart, but his conscience—it aches. Too long since he did the right thing—?”
Quasar put a hand over Bannor’s mouth, the gold skin of her face darkening. “Stop it.” She leaned forward, green eyes staring in his.
Bannor drew her hand away. “Quasar, he’s hurting terribly.”
The jeweled Kriar frowned. “As do I.”
“He loves you and wants you to give up on—” He tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “Vendetta?”
The Kriar woman drew away from him and turned her back. “I think you came here to study the ship.” She stalked off into the debris-laden area.
Bannor shrugged, his attention going to Dulcere as she stepped off the platform. The Kriar woman glanced toward Quasar, her space-black eyes narrowing.
“She’s lost her anchor. She’s like I would be without Sarai. That’s not a good thing.”
Wren pushed through the group toward him as they began to spread through the hold area. “You okay, Bannor?” she asked. “You looked a little shaken.”
He let out a breath. “I’ll be okay. Saw a little bit more than I was prepared to. She and her mate had a relationship a lot like the one Sarai and I have.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sarai’s ambitions, and me following along…” His voice trailed off.
Wren looked toward where Quasar had gone. “I had no idea you could read people. When did you start being able to do that?”
He shrugged. “I started becoming aware of it after we came back from Gladshiem. With some time to practice control, it’s like another sense—tasting someone’s aura.”
Wren raised an eyebrow. “Interesting analogy. I suppose she’s kind of sour?”
He grinned back. “Wine aged several eons too long.”
Wren flicked a strand hair out of her eyes and looked around with hands on hips. “So, what do you think we should be looking for here?”
Bannor folded his arms and frowned at the devastated hold. “This Rakaar person that stole the item, I assume he used this ship to transport it. The other Baronians tore through this ship looking for the item itself—we’re looking for wherever it might have been hidden.” He walked around, nudging through the debris. Obviously, there had been no fighting here, just a hasty search.
He easily picked out the tall silver-haired Baronian from among the people scanning the wreckage for clues. He walked over to her. “Lady Senalloy, a moment.”
She looked up, violet eyes meeting his. “Of course.”
“You knew this Rakaar well did you not?”
“Better than I would have liked,” she responded with a frown.
“I need to know more about him,” he told her. “Would he have hidden the device near himself, or hidden it in an unlikely location?”
She sighed. “That’s a question I have asked myself. While I knew him, he always guarded his thoughts and actions. He was quite intelligent. He understood people would search for the device and would have been careful in the location of its securing.” She twisted a finger in a strand of her silver hair. “That’s the problem with smart people, they know others will try to analyze them—that bothersome ‘they know, I know’ back and forth. I am certain it was not an obvious location because he and I were on this ship for quite some time with nothing but the void and our own company. I would have seen it.”
Bannor rubbed his chin. “Do you have any idea of the dimensions of this thing?”
“It was not large at all,” she answered. “The one time I think I saw it, he was carrying a cube shaped container with rounded corners about this size.” She held up a small space between her hands. “It was white with black circles painted on each side and a handle in the top. Of course, that was probably just a carrier. So, the object itself is probably something that fit in such a case.”
“All right, let’s start with the most obvious place first—his quarters. Maybe I can follow a chain. Learn something about him, then eliminate unlikely spots.” He looked around and found Dulcere. “I would like to start in Rakaar’s quarters, is that all right?”
The Kriar woman nodded.
He nodded to Dulcere and glanced up to Senalloy. The big woman dipped her head, and pointed off to a hatch on the far side of the crowded chamber. She turned and proceeded toward it, Bannor following. Silently, Wren fell in step behind him. Daena and Janai looked up from their examinations and turned to follow as well.
The interior of the void ship was quite cramped, the connecting passages surprisingly narrow given the size of the vessel. They weren’t much more than featureless tubes of metal with smooth walls. He tried to imagine a large squad of Baronians shouldering through the tight confines. The men were huge, half again as wide as himself. An extended stay in these environs would be claustrophobic at best. A big person would try to keep to the open spaces, or areas that gave the illusion of more freedom.
“Lady Senalloy,” Bannor asked as he followed the woman.
“Yes.”
“Was this Rakaar controlling, someone who felt a need to keep things in hand?”
“Absolutely,” she responded, voice echoing as she pulled a bar that unlatched a heavy door that she swung open. She stepped through the opening, paused and looked back, brow furrowing. “Why was that door secured?”
“Is that a problem?” Bannor asked.
“No,” Senalloy answered. “It’s what you should do for safety when the ship is underway.” She frowned. “It’s probably nothing.” She continued on with a shrug.
Bannor glanced back at Wren. The blonde savant was frowning. She, like him, was obviously suspicious of the least little detail. Daena and Janai both shrugged obviously just following along, eyes glowing in the dim corridor.
After a short distance, Senalloy had to free another door that intersected a much broader corridor that angled up in both directions. Here the walls were painted, and there the pulse of Kriar artifice magic hummed through shafts of metal and crystal, casting the area in muted colors.
“This is the starboard gangway, this and one like it on the port side run almost the entire length of the ship. If we get separated, see the blue stripe on the wall?” Everyone nodded. “That indicates a primary passage. A red stripe is engineering access. Stay away from areas that have gold stripe, those may still be secured and you need a special clearance to be in them.” She turned her hand over palm up and pointed to small triangular gem embedded in her flesh.
“Secured
meaning what?” Wren asked.
Senalloy took a step down the passage and reached up to a black spherical blister hanging down from the ceiling. “See that? They’re all over the ship. They have devices in them that allow the people in control to visually monitor the passages. There are also weapons inside strong enough to put holes in you. They shouldn’t be active, but every door we’ve come to has been secured, so they might be.”
“We’ll follow you,” Janai said, amber eyes wide. “I for one have absolutely no urge to explore if that might be the case.”
The Baronian woman nodded and turned to sway down the corridor. Bannor followed her, suddenly feeling uneasy. As his footsteps echoed on the metal flooring, he tried to trace the source of the feeling. It wasn’t anything that Senalloy had said or done. The woman seemed totally sincere in her actions, even to the point of warning them of potential dangers. Dulcere warned them about potential traps.
“Lady Senalloy,” he asked. “Might I ask, how you feel about your countrymen?”
The big woman glanced over her shoulder. “I was virtually a slave for two thousand cycles, how would you feel?”
Bannor thought to back off for a moment and decided to press on anyway. “Because one is abused by one part of society, doesn’t mean the whole culture is at fault.”
“Baronian culture is based on exploitation,” she responded in a dark voice. The tone sharp as it echoed in the metal corridor. “Males exploit females except those lucky enough to distinguish themselves in some way that they are endeared to the overlords. Ironically, once they are free they are usually just as exploitative as our male brethren. It is only the edicts and promises to the masters that constrain us such that women receive equal training to the men and opportunity to better themselves.”
“So, you have no loyalty to them, then?”
“To whom, Bannor?” She asked, tossing her silver hair. “The Baronians are servants. We serve the masters. Am I loyal to them? No.”
“I was just asking, in case you might be conflicted about helping us against your own people.”
She met his gaze, violet eyes intense. “Actually, I have plenty of incentive to help you. If they take over things, I am likely to be treated as a deserter who colluded with the enemy.” She waved a hand in front of her face. “I’ll pass on that experience. I’m enjoying my freedom. I have a Kriar to nettle, and a pretty young boy to tease. I’m content.”
Reality's Plaything 3: Eternal's Agenda Page 13