Space Knight

by Samuel E. Green

  “I see you have taken a liking to the females aboard the Stalwart,” Polgar said. “I don’t blame you. They are beautiful. It is a shame they will be punished for insurrection. I could use a few more pretty attendants on my ship. It does seem a waste to have them imprisoned, but they cannot go unpunished.”

  The sorcerer paused for a moment, and I shuddered at what things he might have Elle and Casey do aboard his warship.

  “The crew will be given a trial, won’t they?” I asked the sorcerer.

  “I suppose,” Polgar said, and I felt a little better knowing the enchantress and the point clerk wouldn’t become his personal attendants. The sorcerer’s accusations wouldn’t hold up in a royal court, especially after I contacted Duke Barnes and told him how little evidence there was of insurrection.

  “We have confirmed the existence of a room within the armory, your eminence,” a grand knight said.

  “Excellent. Have a team in there to retrieve the rest of the armor,” the sorcerer said before turning to me. “Now, Outlander, it’s time we returned to the RTF Bulwark.”

  I stared at the Stalwart’s misshapen and ramshackle enchantry for what might be the last time before I followed Polgar into the passageway and back to the starship’s deployment room. One of the sorcerer’s mages had prepared a portal for us, and I entered the magical doorway after Polgar.

  Chapter 25

  The portal took us to a deployment chamber on Polgar’s warship, the RTF Bulwark. The room was filled with bulkheads at least twenty meters tall and scores of RTF staff. The yeomen and military personnel on the catwalk gazed down at me with interest. I guessed it was because I was following the high sorcerer with an escort of grand knights.

  I wondered whether I’d made a mistake taking the duke’s assignment. Maybe I should have accepted the job on the Deira Sector Outpost. I would have never befriended Zac and the others, but at least I wouldn’t be in this predicament. The Stalwart’s crew might have been spared of my treachery, but Duke Barnes would have sent some other desperate squire as a spy.

  We entered an elevator the size of the Stalwart’s galley, and one of the knights hit the command button. As the lift ascended, I saw the various floors of the Cachalot class warship through the transparent glass. This was the sort of starship I’d wanted to be assigned to after graduation. Under any other circumstance, I might have stared in wonder at the high-tech weaponry in the gunnery or the eight jump spheres, but all I could think about was the impending fate of the Stalwart and her crew. When the elevator arrived at an upper deck, I followed Polgar into an officer’s chamber with the heating system cranked to at least thirty degrees Celsius.

  The sorcerer held out his arm to indicate a couch with velvet cushions, and I sat on it while he took a seat behind a broad mahogany desk. Two attractive female yeomen stood behind him, and their grey uniforms hugged their hourglass figures like a second skin. It was obvious that their uniforms were custom tailored to show off their bodies, and I recalled Polgar talking about Casey earlier. I guessed the sorcerer liked good looking women.

  Above the man was a collection of skulls arrayed in display cabinets. None of them were human, and I recognized some of them as Grendels. I guessed they all belonged to the various classes of lizard-men the RTF hunted.

  “A drink,” the sorcerer said. The yeoman to the left of him retrieved a decanter from the cabinet behind her, filled a goblet, and handed it to him. The sorcerer sipped the drink, after which he let out a long sigh. “Oh, how impolite of me. Yeoman, fetch a glass for the Outlander here.”

  The woman filled another goblet and gave it to me. I swallowed a little of the strong wine, but it tasted like ash in my mouth.

  “You have done a great service to me, Outlander. I think I shall reward you. Do you have any requests?”

  “Only that the Stalwart’s crew be given a fair trial, your eminence.” I detested applying the honorific to the smug man seated behind the desk, but I didn’t want to anger him when every word I said from now might save the crew’s lives.

  “A trial? For insurrectionists? We cannot allow such a thing. Those in the kingdom’s upper echelons do not believe they exist, and it is better to keep it that way.”

  My heart slammed in my chest, and I trembled so much that I sloshed red wine over my hands. The dark liquid dripped onto the white rug beneath me, but Polgar seemed too pleased with the day’s events to notice I’d stained the priceless item.

  “What do you mean to do with the crew then?” I said as I tried to steady my shaking hands.

  “Why, Outlander, isn’t it obvious? My ship is already preparing weapons for an assault. As soon as the grand knights return with the remaining armor pieces, the rest of this fleet will leave via portals. Then it will only be the RTF Bulwark remaining, and my crew is loyal to me--every one of them has sworn an oath to serve me in life and death. On my command, the Stalwart and her crew will be blown to pieces.”

  The sorcerer’s scarred face warped into a horrific grin. I didn’t know how he’d come to bear such an awful disfigurement, but it made him look like a monster in mage robes. Even the Grendel Ogres I’d fought on Tachion hadn’t looked as vile as Silvester Polgar did now.

  My body went numb, and I found myself unable to form words with my mouth. I didn’t need to ask Polgar what reason he would give for destroying the Stalwart. He could simply say the crew were insane and attacked him first. It wouldn’t take much for anyone in the RTF to believe the lie. I would have swallowed such an account without a single objection had I not come to know the Stalwart and her crew. The rumors of the starship’s ghastly knights abounded, and this would be their final episode.

  Polgar wasn’t going to see reason, so I’d keep him thinking I was on his side until I could get off this ship and return to the Stalwart. I’d free the crew, and we’d escape this solar system before the Bulwark could fire its weapons. I had until the grand knights opened the door to the armory, which could be hours, or minutes.

  Polgar finished his drink in one long swallow. “Now, Outlander, I believe it’s time I showed you the fine quarters I have prepared for you.” The sorcerer gave me a black-gummed grin, and I tried not to shudder. This man seemed to truly think he was doing me an honor.

  I only had to endure him a little longer so I could escape back to the Stalwart. It wasn’t like I was under arrest, so I would be able to move about the ship unimpeded.

  I followed the sorcerer to an elevator, and we descended to one of the Bulwark’s lower decks. After making a few turns, we came to a brightly lit passageway. The place smelled like bleach, and every bulkhead was polished to a gleam. A camera watched us as we walked to the end of the corridor, and I wondered if anyone on the other side of the monitor was paying attention.

  “Here you are,” Polgar said as he indicated a narrow doorway.

  I stepped into the room and stood beside the single bed. The furnishings were plain and functional, but I wouldn’t have called it ‘fine’ as Polgar described. Still, I’d be staying here only until Polgar left the passageway. Then I’d race to the deployment room and figure out some way to jump to the Stalwart.

  “The duke seems fond of you, but I doubt he’ll shed a tear when I tell him you died on the Stalwart,” Polgar said with glee.

  Before I could reply, a forcefield shifted over the door.

  “I expect you’ll enjoy your stay on the Bulwark,” he continued.

  “What--” I started to shout, but the sorcerer cut me off.

  “You will be useful to me here. I sensed something about you in the duke’s throne room, a peculiarity, or perhaps a mutation. I wish to perform some experiments on you to see if I can identify the gene. I doubt you’ll survive the process, but you can take pride in knowing you’ve served me and the duke in life and also death.”

  Polgar marched down the passageway, and I clenched my fists while I tried to control the slamming of my heart. He hadn’t mentioned the Queen at all, and I knew now he served only himself. Finally
, after all this time believing otherwise, I knew for certain Silvester Polgar was a snake.

  And I’d played right into his fanged maw.

  After he destroyed the Stalwart, he would experiment on me to learn how my mutation worked. Mutants were meant to be sent to the Facility, but I couldn’t see the sorcerer abiding by that law. Mom would be told I’d died aboard the Stalwart, and then she’d never get out of the tenements. Her life was already bad, but it would get worse without the currency I sent her.

  Mom had taught me to honor the crown ever since I was born, and her nurturing made me devoted to Queen Catrina. I’d wanted more than anything to serve the Queen, so I’d taken Duke Barnes’ assignment readily.

  Now I was locked inside this cell.

  But Polgar didn’t know I could teleport.

  The desire to help my friends when they were in need was exactly what triggered my teleportation ability in the past. I considered teleporting directly to the Stalwart, but I’d never made a jump of that distance before. Elle had warned me about teleporting in case I ended up in space, and her cautionary words ringing in my head prevented me from attempting it.

  I concentrated on the Bulwark’s deployment room and flooded my mind with every negative thought about what would happen to my fellow crew members when Polgar’s warship fired its weapons. A small camera in the far-left corner of the room blinked a green light and spun to face me, and I stopped my teleportation attempt short. Every time I moved, the camera shifted. If I teleported now, someone would see me. I could probably get to the deployment room, but I’d have less than a few seconds to find a mage to open a portal, and by then alarm bells would be ringing.

  I pounded the cell walls in frustration. My fists struck the hard metal a dozen times before I heard footsteps echoing in the passageway.

  Two artillerymen were escorting a figure, and as they got closer, I recognized the person they were holding as the Stalwart’s ship mage, Matthias. A skull-cap embroidered with glowing runes covered the machina’s cranium, and I presumed it disabled his ability to create magical portals. The camera jutting out from the bulkhead followed the men as they moved, and then it suddenly went limp as the light inside its lens extinguished.

  As Matthias passed my cell, his head turned to face me. One of his light-globe eyes retracted like a camera lens in a robotic approximation of a wink. The artillerymen hurled the machina into the cell three doors down from me.

  The soldiers remained in the passageway while I considered what I’d seen a second ago. Had the weird thing Matthias had done with his eye actually been a wink? The camera in the passageway also seemed to have disabled when the machina walked past me. There was only one explanation: Matthias was inside the Bulwark’s network, and he’d shut down the camera. I couldn’t explain how, especially when he was wearing the nullifying skull cap, but all the evidence pointed toward the conclusion.

  I glanced up at the surveillance camera in my cell, and the red light flickered out. I stepped to the right, but the camera didn’t follow me. Somehow, it had turned off, and I knew Matthias was responsible.

  Pins and needles ran down my limbs as I realized what this meant.

  I could teleport into the passageway, rescue Matthias, and he could open a portal to return us to the Stalwart. He could use his magic with the kind of accuracy I feared I couldn’t.

  I gritted my teeth and concentrated on the image of dozens of cannons blasting the Stalwart. I saw Casey torn to pieces, Zac slammed into a bulkhead, Elle’s neck twisted, and similar deadly outcomes for the rest of the crew. I didn’t want to continue imagining such terrible fates for my friends, but I knew it was the only way I could trigger a teleport.

  With a heady concoction of negative emotions, I conjured a picture of the passageway outside my cell.

  Then I teleported.

  My body scrambled into atomic-level pieces before joining together again. I was standing inside the passageway, and the two artillerymen who imprisoned Matthias barely looked up before I was upon them.

  I forced myself to pull my punches, not wanting to kill a fellow member of the RTF. I grabbed one man’s gun before he could fire and slammed the thick barrel into his face. Metal collided with bone, and blood sprayed out from the man’s nose. Another strike with the weapon and the artilleryman fell unconscious to the floor.

  The second soldier drew a sword from his belt and flicked it toward me. I tried to twist out of the way, but the point of his blade nicked my left hip, bounced, and penetrated the chest piece Hirsch had given me. I stifled a cry of pain, but I managed to whirl around and kick the artilleryman in the stomach. The blow cracked a few ribs beneath my opponent’s armor, and he doubled over. I drove my armored knee into the artilleryman’s face, and he went down in a limp bundle of arms and legs.

  I grabbed the unconscious man’s hand and used his palm rune to open Matthias’ cell. The forcefield vanished, showing the machina sitting with his legs crossed in the center of the room. His glowing eyes brightened to a lively green color when they turned on me.

  “You are quite tardy, Squire Lyons,” Matthias said in his oddly artificial voice as he stood. “I disabled the camera inside your cell at least three minutes ago.”

  “I figured that was you,” I said as I helped remove the helmet from the machina’s head.

  “Is there anyone else who can tap into this ship’s computer systems while remaining unnoticed? The answer is no, Squire. Controlling technology is one of the benefits afforded by being a ghost in a machine, but I could not exercise my magical abilities while I wore this barbaric device.” Matthias glared at the helmet, and his eyes shifted from a dull yellow to an enraged crimson.

  The machina stepped into the passageway and bent over the unconscious artilleryman I’d used to open the cell. He lifted the man by the neck and then twisted. With a sickening snap, the soldier’s life was ended.

  “What are you doing? You can’t . . .” I trailed off as Matthias approached the second unconscious artilleryman and ended his life, too.

  “We cannot have them waking up while we still have work to do aboard this ship.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “You just killed those RTF soldiers!”

  “I swear on my honor that our quest is more important than the lives of two artillerymen,” Matthias promised. “I can assure you that anyone who serves under Polgar does so voluntarily. They are as evil and honorless as the man they serve.”

  “Not all who serve Polgar are willing,” I said under my breath. “He might have blackmailed them.”

  “I read their minds when they captured me. They were not honorable men.”

  “We need to get back to the Stalwart,” I said, feeling a little better about the machina executing the artillerymen. “This warship might have already attacked.”

  “No, the Bulwark has not fired its rune-nukes quite yet. Polgar’s knights are having difficulty entering the armory. They are interrogating the crew as we speak, but no one will tell them how to breach the door.”

  “How do you know that?” I asked.

  “I have intercepted the communications on this ship.”

  I found myself shaking my head again, unable to believe what I was hearing. Exactly how powerful was this machina?

  “Then we don’t have much time,” I said.

  “We must retrieve the armor Polgar stole from us before we leave this ship.”

  “Forget the armor. The crew’s lives are more important. It could be seconds before the grand knights open the armory door. Once they have all the king’s items, they’re going come back here and blast our ship.”

  Matthias shook his head. “You do not understand, Squire Lyons. King Justinian’s armor is the very reason for the Stalwart’s existence. Even the loss of two pieces would ruin our plans. We must retrieve the boots and gauntlets from this warship, for they are crucial to our mission. We lose them, and the rest of the armor becomes meaningless.”

  I frowned at the android. “This ship is massive
. How can we find the armor?”

  “I have already analyzed this vessel’s systems. I know the precise location of the equipment the high sorcerer stole from us. It lies within a storage room. Unfortunately, Polgar has disabled surveillance inside the room so I cannot give you an image of it, but I will show you the passageway outside. You should be able to teleport there if I give you ample description, is that so?”

  “Uhh, I haven’t exactly mastered teleportation on demand.”

  “Do not worry, this will be a simple task for you, Squire Lyons.”

  I almost laughed at the machina’s confidence in me. “Can’t you open a portal there?”

  “I must save my energy to transport us from this ship to the Stalwart. Without a jump sphere to enhance my abilities, I can summon only a few portals in a short space of time.”

  “Won’t there be guards outside the storage room?” I asked.

  Matthias nodded. “There are six artillerymen stationed outside, but they are not expecting anyone. I would recommend dealing with them swiftly.”

  “They’re members of the RTF. I can’t kill them.” I glanced at the dead artillerymen and wondered how terrible the consequences of their deaths would be. I’d already killed two, and I didn’t want to add any more to the tally needlessly.

  “I do not have time to convince you of the importance of our quest and the necessary evils that will accompany its completion,” Matthias said, sounding frustrated. “We cannot leave without first obtaining the boots and gauntlets. You may attempt to retrieve them without notifying the guards of your presence, but should they see you there, they will attack you. And surviving means killing them.”

  Self-defense was a shaky rationalization. According to those soldiers, I’d be stealing equipment they’d been assigned to guard. I would be a thief in their eyes; therefore, killing me would be justified.

  I’d already thrown my lot in with the Stalwart’s crew, and I couldn’t back out now. I hoped whatever they were planning with the late king’s armor turned out to be worth all of this.