The Sac'a'rith (23 page)

“Yeah, just like your armor. It makes them effective against the wraiths,” he said.

“I wonder where they came from?” I asked. “But that is a puzzle for another day. I don’t sense any more wraiths, so I assume those three were the only ones on board. We should pull out and let the sentries take care of the remaining attackers. Gather up several more sets of those swords for our supplies and let’s get them onto the ship. Leave the rest of them for the station guards.”

We ran back to our ship and dropped off the spare swords in a secure storage bin, and then I placed a call to our government handler. I would not normally call him, but I had instructions from Narcion to report in in place of Narcion once the wraiths were cleared out, if he was unable to do so for any reason. “Sir, I have not heard from Narcion, but I wanted to let you know that Bonair is clear of wraiths. Your forces can take over again as long as they keep up the station’s shields.”

“Excellent! So we stopped the attack?” he asked.

“Yes, sir. I don’t think they will come back. I will know more when I find Narcion,” I said.

“Great! Did we learn anything about the attackers?” he asked.

“Just one thing, which I think will make you very happy,” I said.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“On the station you will find swords like these.” I held up one for him to see and then continued: “The skeletal warriors wielded them and we have determined that they are effective on wraiths.”

Days went by and still there was no word from Narcion or Felix. The sentries were effective in removing the last of the enemy forces, and once that was done the guards searched the station. There was no sign of them anywhere.

I did not envy anyone the job of cleaning up the station after the attack. There would be bodies and body parts everywhere. The walls and floors in some areas would be covered in blood from the fighting. The station had a long, hard recovery ahead of it.

We stayed on Narcion’s cruiser, but my instincts told me to undock from the station, so we did. I was uncomfortable hanging around, as it was apparent that Narcion was no longer here; we had no place to go, however, so I kept the cruiser in a parking orbit around the station.

While we were trying to decide what we should do next, a call came in from our contact in the Phareon government. I answered it up on the bridge, hoping for news about Narcion.

“Zah’rak, we found a clue as to what happened to Narcion,” he said.

He played back some footage from one of the security cameras on the station. On the film I saw Narcion and Felix pinned down in what looked like a supply room. While they were fighting, a blue field of light opened behind them, which looked like some kind of portal. I watched as skeletons poured into the room that Narcion and Felix were using as cover. Narcion turned to fight but one of the skeletons grabbed Felix and pulled him back through the portal. Narcion chased after them, and the portal closed behind him.

“That is the last that was seen of them,” he said.

“They could be anywhere, then,” I said.

“Assuming they are still alive, they presumably ended up in the enemy’s base,” he said. “I believe they have been captured and detained, but there is no way to verify that right now.”

“Thanks, sir,” I said, closing the channel. I set the autopilot on the cruiser to fly us to the middle of nowhere and then brought Crivreen up to date.

“Now what?” he asked.

“We hide for a few days and search through all the records on this ship. We need to find out if Narcion had any idea where these portals went. That government agent is right; they are probably being detained somewhere and may need rescuing,” I said.

“You sure they’re alive?” he asked.

“Yes. I would know it if Narcion died,” I said. I was not fully confident of that, but I needed to keep Crivreen from panicking. If I were to rescue them, I would need his help; he was the only one left I could trust.

Once the cruiser was hidden in a section far from any known trade routes, I placed it in lower power and switched all its scanning to passive mode only. Crivreen assured me that we were too small and too far away from anyone to be spotted while running at this level. Narcion and I had only covered some very limited basics about the ship, so I had to trust that Crivreen knew what he was talking about.

“Crivreen, you search the computers. I am going to see if there is anything in his quarters that might be of help,” I said.

“Have you ever been in there before?” he asked.

“No, never,” I said and walked towards the room. As I approached Narcion’s door I began to feel some trepidation. I was not sure I was ready for whatever lay behind it. He had spent a lot of time in there, especially whenever he was tired or injured. He always looked refreshed and healed when he came out. When I asked him about it, he said that he had been meditating or sleeping. I jokingly referred to it as ‘hibernation’, and he said that was the right idea. I felt that there was something more to that room than there was to other rooms on this ship, but in all the time I’d served with him I had never even seen the door open.

The door was locked, but I told the ship’s computers to override the lock. Narcion had given me full command access to the controls on the ship, so once I had gone through the cycle of biometric identity checks the computer instructed me where to place my hand to confirm the order. Just as I was about to do that, Crivreen called out, “Wait!”

“What is it?” I asked.

“Something is odd here; hold on a moment,” he said. “Something happened when you started to unlock that door. Just a minute.”

I lowered my hand and wondered what could be up. After a few minutes I asked, “What is going on?”

“Well, when you requested that override on the lock, it fired off some scripts and changed things,” he said.

“What does that mean?” I asked. I was glad to have him on board. My upbringing as a slave had not included a lot of time spent learning shipboard computer systems. I could operate the ship and its systems adequately after three years with Narcion, but Crivreen’s level of understanding was well beyond that.

“For one thing, I now have full engineer-level access to the computers,” he said.

“You didn’t already?” I asked. That sounded like something he should have had all along as the ship’s engineer.

“No; I had only very limited access, but not anymore,” he said.

“Well, that is a good thing, then. Why stop me?” I asked.

“Because it appears that when you unlock that door another script will be set in motion that will have a far more drastic impact,” he said.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Once you unlock that door, it will fire off a series of automated actions that will transfer everything that Narcion has ever owned to you. Furthermore, it will report Narcion as dead and you as his only surviving kin.”

I did not want even to think about such an event. “Why would he do such a thing?”

“How long have you known him?” he asked.

“Um, about three years now. Why?” I asked.

“There is a note here on the script. Apparently he anticipated you not wanting to go through with this, but the note was written over six years ago,” said Crivreen.

“What does it say?” I asked.

“It says: ‘Zah’rak, I am counting on you to carry on without me. I know we only had a short time together, but you can do this. I am depending on you,’” he said. “That is it. You and he must at least have met each other that long ago.”

“No. I never saw him before the day that he freed me from slavery,” I said. “He must have written it after that time.”

“I really don’t think so. The note is clearly dated six years ago,” he said. “So either he deliberately forged the date, or he knew ahead of time that this would all happen.”

“I don’t think he would forge the date, and this would not be the first time that he has seemed to have prior knowledge of my joining him,” I said.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“It doesn’t matter right now,” I said. “Opening this door means we are declaring him dead. I can’t do that.”

“I would say that he wants you to. Besides, it’s not like we can’t undo all of this once we’ve rescued him. I mean, heck, he could just spin up a new ID or something,” he said.

“Yeah, I guess,” I said. I stood there looking at the bland metal door with the mundane-looking control panel next to it. It was still flashing, patiently awaiting my confirmation of the override. I felt a weight on my shoulders that I was not sure I could bear. Narcion had removed the weight of slavery, and that had been very liberating, but now that had been replaced by the weight of responsibility for carrying on the mission without him. Somehow that had not seemed real until now, and I was not sure I could carry on.

“Zah’rak, Narcion had faith in you and so do I. You are a great leader and a good friend,” said Crivreen.

“Thanks.” I do not know how long I stood there, but eventually I knew I had to open that door. There was no path backwards; all I could do was push ahead. Narcion was alive out there and would need my help. I was not sure I could still believe that, but I certainly wanted to.

I slowly placed my hand on the display, which allowed the computer to take a palm print as a confirming signature. The computer beeped, the metal door slid open, and Narcion was declared dead; just as simply as that. It seemed anticlimactic to what was happening behind the scenes. I knew he was not really dead, but somehow the action of opening the door felt like I was signing his death certificate. I swallowed hard and walked into his room. If I were to have any chance of rescuing him, or of carrying on without him, I needed to search his room for clues.

The room was a bland affair. There were almost no personal touches of any kind, just an empty rectangle with the basics needed for reasonable comfort. In the room there was a bed that looked as if it had never been used, a closet that was empty, and a wall full of empty drawers. The room looked pretty much like what you would expect if you had recently purchased the craft and no one had ever yet lived on it.

There was one exception to this, however, and that was a large, heavy curtain that covered the back wall. It had a beautiful forest pattern and ran from the floor to the ceiling, completely covering the entire wall. The curtain rod that held it up appeared to be made of real wood, and I was sure the curtain itself was made of pure, natural fibers. When I placed my hand on the curtain I could feel power coming from it and flowing into me. I could almost smell the forest that was depicted on the curtain. I could almost hear the wind blowing through the trees and taste the pollen in the air.

I let go of the curtain and the sensation passed. I knew that I would have to look behind it, but the sensation caused by touching it had left me feeling uneasy. It was not that the feelings the curtain evoked were bad; quite the opposite was true, it was a very pleasant experience. What bothered me was that a curtain could make me feel anything at all. It was just dead material; it should not possess any power, and yet it did.

It was obvious that the curtain was there for a reason, and it was likely to be hiding the only clues that would be found in this room. I slowly reached out and once again took hold of the curtain. I could feel the pleasant tingling of power run though my fingertips as I touched it. Before I could be distracted I flung the curtain aside, revealing what was behind.

The wall itself was as unremarkable as the rest of the room, but standing in front of it was a large wooden ring. It was large enough for even a person of my size to pass through easily. The wood had strange symbols engraved into it; presumably some sort of writing, but it was not like any written language I had ever seen before. The ring was thick and looked extremely heavy. I could not understand how Narcion had got it into the room. It was too big to fit though the door, but I could see no seams in it to suggest that it had been brought in piece by piece.

It was standing very close to the wall, not quite touching it. The ring was mounted in two blocks of wood, one at the top and one at the bottom, with a groove cut in each of them into which the ring fitted perfectly. The base of the ring was bolted to the floor, and the top was bolted to the ceiling. The base and top, while also being made of wood, had no markings on them. The ring seemed to be pressure-fitted between the base and top, and appeared to be completely distinct from them.

Ever since entering the garden on the station I had felt a closer tie to natural materials. I could tell that this wood and the curtain were made from natural materials that were grown somewhere far away from here. They were not manufactured, but rather harvested. I could almost see where they came from and their history, but it was like looking at something very far away; there was just the idea of what might be there, but nothing clear.

“Crivreen,” I said over the comm. “Come down here and tell me what this is.”

“On my way,” he replied.

I could not imagine what this ring might be, but it had to be important; it was the only thing in Narcion’s room. While I waited for Crivreen I tried to guess what the symbols on the ring denoted, but without context it became random pareidolia, like faces or images seen in the clouds.

When Crivreen came in and saw the ring, he gasped and ran out. I was just about to chase after him when he came back with a datapad.

“I can’t believe it!” he exclaimed.

“What?” I asked.

“Listen,” he said, and read out the description of a stone ring. “This ring sounds exactly like that stone one!”

“Well, what was that stone ring?” I asked.

“It was a gate. During the Great War, the sorcerers used it to instantly travel great distances; not unlike our jump drives, but without the need for mass,” he said.

“But Narcion is not a sorcerer, and this is made of wood,” I said.

“Yes, true, but I’m sure this is a gate just like the ones they used! Think about it: magic is amoral. If the sorcerers can make a gate, then any magus can. Don’t forget that Narcion would disappear for extended periods of time. Where did he go? My guess is that he used this gate to travel somewhere.”