Chapter Seven
The next morning, Faro found Link sitting at the shuttle controls, running through a diagnostics program. The shuttle was a small transport ship, with a handful of seats, meant for short flights. They’d hidden the ship near Bleak Bay.
“You are late.” Link didn’t glance away from the screen.
“Yes, I am.” He didn’t bother apologizing, because he wasn’t sorry. Faro had been awake half the night, contemplating inconvenient ethical dilemmas.
“We appear to be ahead of schedule, which is good news.” Link’s fingers drifted over the keys, and information flashed on the monitors at a dizzying speed. He could process data quicker than any humanoid.
Faro didn’t agree, but he knew better than to speak up. Link wouldn’t understand; actually, no one would.
“Mydon said you needed something?”
“Yes, there’s a flux in the pocket universe.”
A court alchemist had created the spell to hide their activities, a pocket universe to store their ill-gotten gains, lest some hapless fool chance upon them. Their ship was in orbit, cloaked by another spell.
A scientist would call it a spatial distortion, rather than a spell. On Iradia, there was no difference between science and magic, they were one and the same. Magic and physics had much in common, both influenced the physical environment.
“A flux?”
“Yes, someone tried to access it, and I have corrected the issue for the meantime, but I need a drop of your blood to reseal the container.” Dragon’s blood, or Drake’s blood, as the Iradians called it, was a powerful catalyst.
At one time, the two species had been enemies, and now they coexisted peacefully. Drakes were intelligent beings, and once they’d stopped trying to slaughter each other, both Drakekind and Iradians worked together to save the planet. Drakes had offered their genetic material, in return for safe passage to another world. Once the Knights returned home with the scandium, they’d build an armada of new ships, ones large enough to accommodate the Drakes, as well.
“Why did Mydon send me? Any of my brothers would do.” He held out his arm, while Link took a sample.
“Perhaps he wanted a respite from your presence.”
Link didn’t mean any offense, so Faro took none.
“You could be right.”
“Most likely I am, the probability is around ninety-five percent accurate.”
Like the Knights, Link was a combination of both magic and machine, so he had a soul or an essence. Link was logical, empirical, and thoughtful. He had the capacity for feelings, but he also retained control of his computer-processing systems, and preferred to keep his emotive center switched off.
He’d single-handedly piloted the ship while they slumbered in stasis for stretches of time, in between short periods of being awake. Stasis was hard on the body, and to mitigate the symptoms, they’d taken scheduled breaks.
As an artificial life form, Link didn’t need sleep or food. During his brief periods of wakefulness, Faro had spent time with Link in the ship’s navigational center, taking in the endless stars surrounding them. Faro considered him a friend, and Link was pleasant company.
“Any idea what caused the flux?”
“I have not formed a hypothesis yet.” Link didn’t like to speculate. “Observation; you are quieter than usual.”
“What do you mean?”
“Under normal circumstances, you speak quite often.”
He chuckled. “Are you saying I talk too often?”
“No, or I would have said so. I merely stated that you seem subdued.”
“I have a lot on my mind.” Faro dragged a hand through his hair.
“You appear sad. Are you?” Link tilted his head to the side. “Did I identify the correct emotion?”
“Yes, but it’ll pass.” It always did.
“It is a pity you cannot shut them off.”
Faro agreed. Being on this doomed planet was yet another reason he didn’t want to feel, if only to protect his own sanity. But Faro was at the mercy of other people, sucked in by their state of mind, and even when he put barriers in place, small waves of sentiment still filtered through.
“I can’t argue with your logic, but it’s not an option, unfortunately.”
“Why?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Is the source of your distress the young woman who owns the inn?” Evidently, the brothers had been talking behind his back, or perhaps it was obvious to everyone.
Faro sighed. “What if it is?”
“Then your interest is ill-advised. Earth will be destroyed shortly.”
Link stated it matter-of-factly, as a foregone conclusion, and it was. Pulling away from Amy would be smart, and yet Faro couldn’t stop himself. He longed for her company. Earlier, he’d had to stop himself from knocking on her door twice, before he left this morning.
Something is wrong with me. She’d gotten under his skin, and all he could think of was being near her again.
“I wish it were so simple.”
He blinked. “It is.”
Link had been programmed with a full range of mannerisms, yet no matter how lifelike he appeared, there was still a hint of something synthetic in his demeanor.
“Not for me.”
“In my experience, relationships are overrated.”
Link had originally been created as a comfort companion, before he’d been repurposed for this assignment. He’d been the paramour of a wealthy and influential noblewoman, before she’d donated his services to “the cause.” Link didn’t speak about it much, and Faro hadn’t pressed the issue. For all intents and purposes, he’d been the woman’s plaything.
“I disagree.”
“Yes, both you and Blaze enjoy the company of women.” Link paused. “Hmm.”
“What?”
“I am considering a possibility. What if your Drake DNA is influencing your reaction to the woman?”
Faro stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“Drakes mate for life.”
In days gone by, when Knights still slew drakes, they’d destroyed whole villages in vengeance over the loss of a mate. They went mad with despair, until they ultimately died at the end of a blade, or from a broken heart.
“No, it’s impossible. When the alchemists conjoined our species, they focused on crafting super-soldiers, ones capable of fantastic feats. They weren’t interested in playing supernatural matchmakers.” The Knights had been created long before this mission to save the planet from annihilation.
“I understand, however, the process was both mystical and scientific in nature. The alchemists believed the outcomes would be impossible to predict.”
Faro never consider the possibility before, but it explained his behavior. What if Link was right?
Link placed a hand on his shoulder. “Perhaps you should leave her alone, brother.”
And what if I can’t?
***
Later on, Faro and Jude worked together in the cavern, by the anemic light of astral lanterns, which offered precious little illumination. He loathed spending his waking hours in this dreary hole in the ground.
The surroundings matched his mood. Since speaking with Link, Faro had been in a desolate frame of mind. He wasn’t certain if it was Link’s hypothesis, or the prospect of keeping Amy at a distance which bothered him.
“Why are you so sullen?” Jude turned to him.
“I’m not sullen, and I usually ask you that question.”
It was Jude’s default setting. Faro ran from emotion, especially the darker variety, but Jude embraced it, wrapped his arms around the bleakness, and held it close to his chest. His brother brooded, as though it were a special talent.
“Well, today, I’m doing the asking.”
Faro considered telling Jude to mind his own bloody business, but he might as well take advantage of the situation. Faro could use some wise counsel.
“Ever get the sense we’re on the wrong side of history?”
“No.” Jude knocked a chunk of rock free, and it landed in a pile of rubble at their feet.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s the way of the galaxy. The strong prey on the weak; it’s simply the nature of things.”
“So you don’t feel guilty?” Faro asked.
“Guilty? No. However, I didn’t say I agreed with our mission. We’re plundering their resources to save our own skins.”
That was Faro’s point exactly. “So you agree with me?”
“I’m saying our survival instincts are in play. I don’t relish their demise, nor will I come to their aid.” After Jude said this, Faro detected a hint of regret, a tiny sliver of shame, but it disappeared, as though he’d imagined it. “I can overlook our sins, if we can save Iradia.”
“I want to rescue our people, but I care what happens here, too.” He was literally torn between two worlds, and his conscience prodded him to do better. “They don’t deserve to die.”
“Neither do we.”
“So…what? You’re neutral?”
As far as Faro was concerned, there was no such thing as a gray area. Then again, his outlook was well-defined—black and white, right and wrong. A soldier chooses a side and he had the sinking feeling he’d picked the wrong one.
“I’m resigned. You should let this go, too. Leave ethics to the scholars, brother. High-minded ideals are easier to keep when one is sitting in an ivory tower.”
“I suppose.”
Once upon a time, he’d savored the glory of battle, the thrill of conquest. Now, it tasted like ashes in his mouth. This would be a hollow victory of epic proportions.
“When we return to Iradia, we shall be greeted as heroes, saviors. In the future, when they tell our tales by the campfire, no one will mourn the loss of Earth, or even remember the terrible bargain we made.”
That’s what I’m afraid of.