by Tyson Jordan
“I wanted it almost immediately, but after talking to the uncle here, I found out that it was something that my father gave to yours fourteen years ago. I was planning on stealing it or conning you out of it somehow,” my fists bunched at that, “but since you saved my life, I guess I have to do the decent thing and let you keep it yourself, huh?” I relaxed then, but only somewhat.
“Thank you for saving me, Zircon. You don’t need to worry. I know I don’t have many scruples, but this is one of the few. I’ll talk to you later, all right? I brought you here because I figured you might want some family history. I know how hard it is growing up with no father.” With that, Gareem clapped his hand on Janus’s shoulder and the Ocean Dweller, my new friend, walked away.
“So! Zircon Fortuna, the son of Cobalt the Conqueror, I know you have questions for me. I can’t promise you answers, though. What can I tell you about your old man that you haven’t already seen in the released records?”
“Who was he?” It was vague but that was all I could manage. Gareem looked at me, his smiling face almost masking his sincerity.
“Cobalt was the kind of guy who would work himself to death if you gave him half a chance. He rarely, if ever, talked about himself, though. Grim bastard, always stern and looking forward to his next job. No sense of humour at all, and bloody impossible to read!” That rung true with me, and I nodded, hoping he would continue.
“He could fight like a bloody monster, though. Tahiq and I used to joke that he was a Bra’ Hca trapped in an Erdeson’s body.” That sat right with me as well, and the released records divulged my father’s impossible victories in great detail.
“Did he … ever say anything about … me?”
Gareem looked at me, unsure how best to answer.
“Cobalt was … When he did decide to talk, it wasn’t about his life. I think he was more comfortable with the Malinvicta than he was with any of us, strange as it sounds.”
I sighed, and Gareem could see the spreading unhappiness in my face as my father remained, yet again, a legend but not a person. My eyes drifted away from the engineer to the skeletal frame of an older ship that rested behind him, and he cocked his head at it in satisfaction.
“She’s a pet project of mine. Striker class, or at least she will be when I’m done with her. There’s not much to be seen now, obviously, but she’ll be something else when I’m through.” Gareem smirked as I stepped forward to examine the careful work he had done in reinforcing the structure, which shone. I touched it, unconsciously, and wondered at what it would one day be as I took note of the beginnings of a large cockpit and the heavily modified engines that had been so carefully placed at its back.
“You like to fly, huh?” The engineer’s question was to the point, and my eyes suddenly lit up. I had only flown in simulators before, of course, given that authentic ships of any kind were too precious a resource to risk on the whims of Initiates, but the thought of finding a place amongst the stars had always excited me.
“Well, let’s go, then.” Gareem beckoned, showing me past the frame and towards a smaller and much older craft that rested neatly in its docking clamps.
“Wait, what?” I asked in genuine surprise.
“What needs explaining? I’m an engineer, and I could use some data for this project of mine. You’re a pilot, so …”
“I’m just an Initiate.”
“Obviously! Don’t tell me you’re worried about the rules now, kid. What, are they going to kick me out for this? I should be so lucky!” The engineer laughed loudly as we approached the vessel, a four-winged patchwork vehicle with a bulbous nose. Gareem entered a brief passcode with his chronopatch and the tinted green glass of the nose lifted, revealing two seats in tight quarters. We entered the ship and I exhaled sharply as the nose dropped and sealed, pressing my knees against its surface.
“Count yourself lucky! Cobalt tried to fit in one of these once, and the damned thing fell apart around him!” Janus’s uncle laughed boisterously, and the image brought a sudden and warm smile to my face. The Ocean Dweller entered another passcode and klaxons throughout the docking bay began to sound, demanding the immediate absence of all personnel. They obeyed, naturally, being that the alternative was sudden entry into the vacuum of space.
“All right, kid, fire her up!” The ship shook from side to side as the docking clamps behind and below released us, and I looked at a bay door that slowly slid open, noisily draining the room of its atmosphere and revealing blackness beyond.
I grasped the twin throttles eagerly and squeezed them twice in rapid succession, feeling what little power the patchwork had to offer as we burst forth into the black endlessness. The stars soon revealed themselves as we escaped the artificial lights of the Guild, and wheeled around as I tilted the sticks as I had practised so many times before. I smiled broadly, feeling inertia sway me from side to side as the ship’s aging systems struggled to keep time with me. Gareem seemed more than a little uncomfortable in his seat.
“So, this headband of mine … it was my father’s, wasn’t it? Or did it belong to someone else?” I asked as I found a natural cruising speed and began circling the enormity of the space station. Automated floodlights burst into view from the floating continent, illuminating the outermost edges of the Guild’s cold grey structure.
Gareem’s eyes fell to the console at his side as he softly murmured, “It belonged to my brother, Tahiq Baskervor. He was Janus’s father, and he was close to your dad in a way that I never was. He gave it to your dad … somewhere along the line.”
“What happened to him?”
“He’s … he’s gone now. Sorry, kid, but some things are just better left untouched.” Gareem’s voice quavered at the mention of his brother, and I frowned, embarrassed at my question. I turned my sights back to the Guild and saw its many residential units, towering in the distance as robotic cranes hurried along its surface, ever ready to repair and expand. It was a marvel to see, one that stretched and faded into the blackness beyond, and I could not help but smile again.
“It really is something, isn’t it? Centuries of work went into building this place, you know. The Ocean Dwellers and the Erdechildren and the Bra’ Hca, all at once united in their cause here. It’s amazing when you think about it.” The engineer grinned, flashing his teeth as his nephew had done, and I agreed.
“Guild Sentinel Gareem Baskervor and Guild Initiate Zircon Fortuna, you are ordered to suspend all unauthorised flight at this time. We repeat, Guild Sentinel Gareem Baskervor and Guild Initiate Zircon …” An authoritative recorded voice crackled over a radio that sat awkwardly between us, and Gareem swore in response. He gave me an apologetic look, but then smiled warmly as he tapped his console.
“I got what I needed, anyway. Let’s head home, kid—they won’t kick me out, but they’ll still make it hell to stay in if we don’t listen.”
I had no alternative, but I felt disappointed all the same as I tilted the flight controls back and circled widely towards the docking bay, having lost interest in pushing the rickety ship any further. The bright yellow docking bay doors were brightly lit from the outside and, as before, they slid open in invitation.
I thanked Gareem as I clambered out of the ship’s tight quarters, and he clapped his four-fingered hand on my upper arm, smiling brightly. “If you ever need to kill time, just feel free to swing by. I could always use another pair of hands down here.”
I left the docking bay then, feeling happy for the first time in as long as I could remember.
12
How Little We Know
Over the weeks that followed, spending what little free time I had with Janus became commonplace. We wandered through the many corridors of the Guild, our path sometimes barred by impatient Sentries, and my ease around him grew rapidly.
We came, one day, to an atrium that had been installed at the base of one of the newer Ocean Dweller residential blocks. The walls and floor were a pristine white polymer that curved elliptically, inter
rupted only by the many quick shafts that had been symmetrically installed and were forever abuzz with Initiates hurrying to classes or training. Janus scanned the room in mild irritation before gesturing quickly at a free bench near its centre, beneath an all-too-familiar sculpture.
The sculpture was stark, clearly out of place in the atrium. There was nothing modern or engineered about it, and it gave off the appearance of having been made by hand, so many years or even decades before. It was heavy and garish, cast from copper that had long ago oxidised, leaving behind only blue and green crumbling metal. At its base was a massive sphere, a simple and plain depiction of a world surrounded by hellfire that burned in every direction. A heater shield, deeply battered by the flames, was bound to the world by massive chains. It was the Guild Emblem.
“I wouldn’t exactly call it subtle,” Janus quipped, and I felt the corner of my mouth pull slightly at his joke. We shared a small laugh before I felt my eyes pulled back to the sculpture once more, stricken by its history.
“Something on your mind, big guy?” my friend asked, and I looked over at him, seeing the quizzical look on his face.
“Can’t you just read my mind?” I replied with a smirk, and Janus rocked back in mock horror.
“That’s an offensive stereotype, you know! Ocean Dwellers don’t do that and we never have! Seriously, I’ve tried. It doesn’t work that way.”
“How does it work, then?” I asked him, wondering at the telepathy of his species. I had heard Janus’s voice within the confines of my own mind many times already, yet I did not know what he could take back from it.
“I guess … I guess you could call it a vibe, really. Other Ocean Dwellers are easy, obviously—we talk to each other that way a lot more than we do verbally, and it lets us exchange ideas in a way that doesn’t really translate to how I’m speaking here.” Janus scratched his chin as he began musing. “And we get certain feelings from Erdechildren too, but it’s sort of … I guess muffled would be the right word? It’s a bit weird—it’s like you people have ears but you don’t really have a mouth?” I nodded slowly, feeling that I would not understand his meaning further in spite of any deeper explanation.
“And as for the Bra’ Hca?”
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Whatever it is that’s going on with their brain chemistry, I don’t know, but they don’t give us anything to work with.” My friend shrugged.
“But speaking of vibes, see those three girls over there?” Janus pointed enthusiastically, and I looked over at three female Initiates who stood near a quick shaft, idly chatting. “It’s pretty clear that she likes me, and so does she, and so does her friend, right?”
I groaned, and he laughed loudly in kind. “I mean, it’s not as if you have to be psychic to see these things, but it helps!” I could not help but grin as I shook my head, and he leaned back against the emblem, triumphant, before growing sombre beneath its shadow.
“We live in a strange world, don’t we, Zircon?” His eyes were unwavering as he looked back up at the statue, a growing look of doubt on his face. He continued. “All of it, everything with the Malinvicta, and Erasure, and all the rest. I can’t wrap my head around it sometimes.”
“What do you mean?” I asked him in simple incomprehension.
“We’re born into this War, like our parents were and like their parents were, going back further than anyone can remember or anyone even seems to know, and yet … we still don’t know anything about them, Zircon. I mean, we don’t even know what they want.” Janus scratched his temple with a four-fingered hand, jostling the tangles of crimson hair as he frowned.
“They want all of us dead, don’t they? Erasure is proof enough of that.” My words were terse, and he glanced at me, a brief look of surprise on his face before he began pondering aloud once more.
“Oh, that much is clear, but … why? After all of this time, all of these thousands of years of the War and losing one planet after another to them … we still don’t know what they’re trying to do. What’s the benefit for them? Why do they want all of this?”
I did not have an answer for him, and his questions left me with terrible feelings of unease and growing anger. I had never considered why the Malinvicta did what they did, and had always thought it enough that we should fight them, whenever and wherever we could. The thought of my father, charging the golden figure on Erde with his hammer tightly in hand, suddenly entered my mind, and I grimaced.
“Speaking of vibes, I think we might talk about this another time, big guy. Besides, there’s a call for rations coming soon, and I’m a big fan of getting my dose of algae when it’s still lukewarm.” Janus rose to his feet, smiling once more, and I stood alongside him, made more comfortable by his joke.
“If we’re lucky, we might even get some of that fibrous, overcooked stuff! You know, the kind that’s crunchy on the outside but gelatinous and salty in the middle? I just love it. Really.” He grinned broadly as I shuddered at the thought.
“If that’s what you want, you can have mine, then.” I sighed and we left the atrium together. As we walked, I looked back at the Guild Emblem and tried to find some comfort in the sight of its immense bronze curves and all its promises of security. It offered none.
13
Vaelryk
The next day rushed towards me as they so often did, and I soon found myself in extra-planar biology once again, nestled between the bulging muscle mass of two Bra’ Hca who were none too grateful to give up their elbow room. I withdrew a stylus from my pocket and prepared to take notes, trying to keep my mind free from the conversation of yesterday. Everything for me felt so unhinged and surreal. The voices in my head, the strange golden Spheres that I had seen, and my father, distant and impossible to understand, were all weighing heavily on my mind and heart. I was adrift, running through the motions of daily routine, detached and without an anchor, and academia had lost what little substance it once offered me.
Ferric was prompt in beginning the class as always, his very presence shaking the other clamouring Initiates to a sudden and obedient silence. The number of students had dwindled somewhat of late, and the disposition of my teacher had improved in turn. He spent a few more moments at his terminal than usual, and then spoke.
“With me, you have seen the impacts of the War. You have seen the Affliction and the insanity it brings with it. You have seen the monsters we wage our War with, closer than any student should ever have to. I hope that those of you who remain will be vigilant in understanding what it is that you will face.”
Ferric reached over to his long, narrow desk and, with gnarled fingers, issued a command to the computer. That command forced the wall before us to shimmer into lucidity, and the lights above dimmed, immersing us in blackness as the footage began.
It was once a jungle, vibrant and overgrown and green, and I recognised the dominant landscape of Rck’ Hara immediately. Smouldering tree stumps cast their small orange light into the dense night, and charred, newly blasted earth was strewn throughout the once dense foliage. Standing near the camera was a tall Erdeson, clad in red thermokinetic armour, whose black hair and piercing eyes gave a faint reminder of someone I had seen before. His relaxed hand was wrapped around the hilt of a dao, its gently curved blade exposed.
“This, of course, is Guild Sentinel Aurum Behemot, the older brother of the already famous Argenta Behemot.” The failings of memory flew from my mind, and I saw the familial resemblance in his frame. All of the seriousness and discipline of Argenta was not present in Aurum, though, whose limber and loose form gave whispers of confidence, and even arrogance.
The camera panned to the right, and I saw another form, one even more familiar. Jagged golden-yellow armor covered the rigid, unyielding body of Lanthanein the Tempest. He held his lance at the ready, staring off into the same distance as Aurum. He was tense, his jaw clenched, and for a brief moment I thought I even saw the tip of his lance waver slightly.
A third Sentinel, a nameless Bra’ Hca in gree
n, hung low near Lanthanein. His forehead was bleeding heavily, painting a black mask over his entire face. He shuddered heavily as he struggled to breathe, casting thick puffs of white breath into the cold night. There were no others to be seen in the smoky jungle ruin.
“These are the only ones left after an unsuccessful campaign on Rck’ Hara. Lanthanein and Aurum are still in service today. Both are individuals of vast talent.”
“What was the purpose of this campaign?” asked a girl sitting in the back.
“Four years ago, we sent ten Guild Sentries to assassinate a particularly well-known Delta class”— a commander, then , I thought as Ferric pressed on—“who was responsible for the death of one of the Guild’s most powerful and respected members, Tahiq Baskervor.” My eyes widened at the sound of his name, and I thought of Janus. I know how hard it is, growing up with no father.
There was an ominous rumbling in the ember-ridden ground before the three, who each clutched their weapons and stood at the ready. Lanthanein was on the left, with his lance held high above his head, while Aurum took the point of their triangle, holding his blade loosely at his side. The unnamed Bra’ Hca made up the right corner and turned his head in the other direction, concerned. He abruptly leapt out of the field of view, leaving his comrades behind, and I was surprised to see one so injured muster so much strength.
The rumbling rose in volume and pitch, until the earth a few metres before Aurum exploded in a horrible rain of crackling dirt and splintering tree stumps. His free hand erupted into magnificent orange flame reflexively, and there was a flash of killing intent in his eyes. The heat leapt from his fingers onto the sword, granting the grey metal a burning, orange touch. His sword readied, he leapt into the fray, obscured by the deep haze of smoke around him. Recognition played its part, and I could hear Lanthanein screaming out in frustration and pain.
“Where the hell are they?” Lanthanein’s voice could be heard somewhere in the fog and the dust, and I leaned forward, my heart rate quickened. The intelligent focus system of the camera found it difficult to keep up, its frame of view zooming back and forth from yellow to red to green, and then everything shone with an electric screech of lightning. The smoke cleared abruptly, revealing black earth and fiery sky.