Chapter 11
Jayce jogged down a passageway in the lower decks of the Iron Soul. He carried a sheet of polymer paper and an electro-pen in one hand; the other pointed at numbers on doorways until he skidded to a halt.
“Squiggly mark . . . little house . . . eel-looking thing. Is this it?” Jayce held his paper up to the door panel, then knocked several times. The door slid open and a wall of very hot and humid air hit him. An earthy smell of vegetation with a hint of decay stung his nose. Ferns and neon-green plants swayed in a heavy breeze from vents in the ceiling.
“What the hell?” He looked at the paper.
“Come in, Jayce.” Maru’s voice carried through the foliage. “Hurry, I don’t want my frogs to get out.”
Jayce ducked into the room. He began sweating immediately in the heat and moisture. A brightly colored animal the size of a fingernail leapt from a leaf and landed on the back of his hand. Its coloring changed to match his skin and where it sat began to itch.
“No. No, you shoo!” He shook his hand gently but it didn’t budge.
“Don’t.” A webbed, scaly hand passed over Jayce’s. An alien with neck gills, forward-facing eyes, no nose, and azure colorings brought the same hand up to his face, then flicked the frog into his mouth.
Jayce let out series of vowels and backed into a fern. Water shook off like he was in a brief shower. More of the little frogs jumped onto him.
“My, they like your new clothes,” the alien—Maru—said. He gave a low croak and the frogs hopped away.
“What is happening?” Jayce said, afraid to move.
“Didn’t Sarai send you over? I asked her to fetch you for me.” Maru’s gills flexed and spat out a spray of water.
“I’m looking for”—he glanced at his paper—“ten units of gig line and a left-handed void hammer. Eabani says we need it before we leave FTL or the ship will invert its gravity axis and—”
“There are no such things,” Maru said. “You’ve been sent on a fool’s errand. Several all at once, interestingly enough.”
“But—but I ran into Sarai and she said this bay would have all—”
“She sent you here as I wished to speak to you, and it seems she took part in the joke as well. No surprise, she was on the hunt for a mail buoy hook for several days when she first came aboard.”
“Mail buoy?” Jayce held his list up to his face. “That’s the next thing I’m supposed to get. So, she knows where that is?”
“No, young one, there is no such thing as a mail buoy. You’re going through a bit of harmless hazing.”
“She did roll her eyes when I asked questions about the buoy. That should’ve been a hint,” Jayce said.
“Indeed. I was informed by her mother that human females rolling their eyes is a predominate trait in their late standard teen years. She assured me that Sarai will grow out of it, but Dastin tells me human females reacquire the habit once they marry.”
“This is like that time I had to bite the head off the first slime eel on my greenhorn trip.” Jayce crushed the paper in his hand. “Rest of the crew said it was good luck if I did that. We didn’t catch a damn thing that trip. Funny how I still got blamed.”
“Traditions. They matter.” Maru motioned toward a bulkhead and vines stretched to one side, revealing several small hatches. “You aren’t as bothered by the humidity or even my exposed face. Most of the humans aboard find either to be rather off-putting.”
“Is that why you wear the helmet?” Jayce pointed to a shelf with the same helm he’d seen Maru wear, along with several others in different styles.
“My Veil-powered armor has a number of environmental systems that keep me comfortable. Species that only breathe air prefer things far too dry for my species.”
“You’re . . . Wottan? I saw some of you back home. They did underwater repairs.”
“Wottan. Correct. Oh, and don’t eat my chickle frogs. They’re rather difficult to raise and they are rather poisonous to humans if ingested.” Maru caught one of the tiny frogs as it jumped from one vine to another and swallowed it whole.
“Or . . . they’re not poisonous at all and you just don’t want anyone else after them.” Jayce smiled.
“Would you like to test your theory?” One of Maru’s large fish eyes twitched.
“No. My apologies. I’m not used to people being honest with me. The Syndicate preferred to keep things under control through violence and corruption. Crews could trust each other as we were all in the same boat. Trust on the docks was harder to find.”
“I understand. Good that you are here as I wish for you to understand something before we land on Illara. How much do you know of the Veil and its effects on us?”
“Other than what I’ve learned since I’ve been aboard? I heard about Veil flecks being used to power some ships. Rumor was the boss for all of Hemenway had flecks for his antigrav yacht. That tech’s way too expensive for fishing. My mother said the Tyrant used the Veil somehow in his coup. I remember she paid for an amulet to ward off the Veil’s influence a few months before she died.”
“Mmm . . . observe.” Maru held out a hand toward Jayce’s chest and the Veil stone in the alien’s harness glowed softly. Strands of light flowed from the stone and wrapped around his arm and coalesced at his fingertips.
“Our reality, our dimension, is built atop another. Our laws of physics and everything we can perceive flow from the conditions in the Veil. The Veil itself is not the base upon which we derive, but where the two dimensions meld with each other. It is like the brane between air and water.” Maru’s fingers twitched, and a coin appeared floating over his palm.
“That’s an impressive holo,” Jayce said as he stared at the coin.
“Take it. It’s yours.”
Jayce shook his head in disbelief and swiped his hand over Maru’s. He tensed up, feeling the coin in his grasp. He rubbed the coin between his thumb and forefinger.
“Where’d this even come—”
Maru huffed air at the coin and it vanished.
Jayce shook his hand like he’d touched something slimy at the bottom of a fish bucket.
“With a stone of sufficient power, our reality can be manipulated,” Maru said. “It dips into the brane between the Veil and our reality. That is how this ship breaks the laws of physics to travel faster than light. That is how Veil flecks and shards can provide power without changing the state of matter as fuel.”
“Can I learn how to do that?” Jayce touched the stone in his harness.
“Not with that bauble, no. The deeper one travels into the Veil, the more powerful and influential stones can be found. But it is unwise to travel too far through it if you are unprepared. There are intelligences within the Veil we do not fully understand—reflections of creatures here twisted into monstrosities that are hostile to anything not of the Veil. And we will not be the only ones searching for things of value.”
“What happens if we come across these . . . intelligences?” Jayce asked.
“I don’t want to frighten you, and we won’t be going anywhere that far into the Veil. You and Sarai should be able to find a sufficient stone not far from the entrance. But there is a choice for you to make, Jayce, one that’s better to be made before the journey.” Maru unhooked a pair of hilts from his belt and pressed the ends together. He twisted them against each other, and the combined hilts snapped out to form a shaft. A glowing glaive blade materialized at one end, strands of light flowing up and down the weapon. He set the metal end cap of the glaive against the deck.
“There are stones that can be cultivated into a ship drive like Uusanar controls, or there are stones that can be wielded for a different purpose. They can be used for great good, or evil. I chose to become a Paragon and my master guided me to the right stone when I crossed the Veil. This manifestation, this weapon, is a small part of what I can accomplish.” Maru unfastened a tie on his shoulder and exposed the stone in his harness to Jayce.
Maru’s stone was a spinning star, its orientation changing rapidly. Jayce had to look away.
“It’s . . . There’s something wrong with it,” he said.
“It is not of this reality, but of the Veil. The more powerful it is, the more disconcerting most find it.” Maru covered up his harness. “When we cross the Veil, you will have a choice to make.”
“Why do I get the feeling the ship stones are easier to find while yours is a lot harder?” Jayce asked.
“It’s not that the ship stones are difficult, it’s that we are not the only ones who’ll be looking for them. Possession of a ship stone makes the bearer a quantity that’s very much in demand. Claiming a Paragon stone does not come with the same material benefits,” Maru said.
“If I want to be a Paragon, then I’m not going to be rich, that’s what you’re saying.” Jayce tapped the stone in his harness.
“Correct.” Maru shrugged. “I won’t give you any kind of antimaterialism diatribe. Both Paragons and shipmasters are necessary. The Governance will be strengthened, no matter which you choose.”
“Why would anyone choose to be a Paragon when they could be rich?” Jayce asked.
Maru went to the wall of small cabinets and touched one.
“If you understand our true mission, then it becomes easier to understand why we take up the mantle. Do you know how the Tyrant fell?”
“It wasn’t the decade-long rebellion?” Jayce frowned. “News from the Tyrant’s government didn’t say the rebellion was much more than a nuisance. Then the Tyrant was gone overnight, and the Syndicate took over my home. There were rumors of a new Governance, but we never saw it.”
“The rebellion was a factor, certainly. But his true death came at the hands of the Paragons . . . I was there when it happened,” Maru said. “We lost many good men and women that day, but we saved all we know from the final darkness.”
“You killed the Tyrant?” Jayce asked.
“It was the work of many. I did my part. The Paragon Sodality fought the Tyrant from the beginning of his reign. So many of us fell during the rebellion . . . but the price we paid was worthy of the cost. Rebuilding has been a challenge as some in the Governance don’t trust us, not fully. But all that has no bearing on you and the journey before you. It is dangerous in the Veil, and it is best to enter well armed and well prepared. Or at least . . . better armed and prepared than you are now. Here. Hold this.”
Maru proffered the long-handled glaive to Jayce.
Jayce tapped the shaft, then gripped it. The wide blade flickered on and off, then vanished with a pop. Maru took it back and the blade returned. He twisted a grip on the glaive and it collapsed back into a pair of hilts.
“They’re called Fulcrum blades and a Paragon’s first weapon is always inherited—in a way—from one generation to the next. They can’t be wielded by another unless they pass through the Veil to unbind them. But every blade carries an echo of former wielders. To reach the rank of Exemplar, one must forge their own Fulcrum after many journeys into the Veil.”
“Fulcrum?” Jayce asked.
“It is by the power of the Veil that our Sodality acts, and these weapons are the will of the Veil. The Balance is everything.”
“I don’t really understand what you just said, but do I need one of these Fulcrums if I’m going to become a Paragon?” Jayce asked.
“You will need one—for protection. Things work differently beyond the Veil. Coil weapons won’t function. It’s rather analog in there. Having a Fulcrum weapon can be the difference between success and . . . less success,” Maru said.
“You’ll teach me how to use it?” Jayce asked.
“First things first. Let’s see if any I have with me are right for you. Sometimes the wielder chooses, other times it is the blade. Choose.” Maru gestured to the cabinets.
Jayce frowned. He raised a finger and waved it back and forth before seemingly stabbing at random at a box on the upper row.
“Hmm.” Maru tapped the latch and it popped open with a hiss. He removed a felt-lined box and angled it toward Jayce. The hilt within was lined with glittering strands and a crest that looked like it was solidified wax.
“Nice!” Jayce snatched it up and yelped as a jolt of electricity ran down his arm. The hilt landed back into the box and Maru returned it to the vault.
“Ow! What the hell?” Jayce shook his hand. “I’m all . . . tingly.”
“Paragon Yun’tar Nafftesh did not care for humans. While we are carriers of ancient truths and act for the good of everyone within the Governance, some of us still fall short of expectations. Another?” Maru asked.
“Is there some sort of a trick or do I stick my hand in another box and find more pain?” Jayce asked. “Maybe you can do that thumb-to-my-head trick and help me sort out—”
“You forced the choice. That is the mistake. Clear your mind and simply let the choice come to you. And we do not force our will onto the Fulcrum blades. That way lies darkness. Breathe and decide. That’s all.”
“Fine fine . . . just drift away and . . .” Jayce closed his eyes and raised his hands slightly.
There was a bump behind him. Jayce opened one eye and glanced at Maru. He closed the eye and the bump happened again from the same place.
“No . . . no it can’t be that one.” Maru stroked his chin and turned toward the noise. A rattling began behind a painting of Maru and several humans in Governance military uniforms. All sat around a holo table, their attention on a wire diagram of a pyramidal structure floating before them. A man and woman sitting opposite of Maru held hands.
“I know I’m new here, but is that painting a Fulcrum?” Jayce asked.
“The Final Oath. It captures the moment that the Tyrant’s fate was decided. But no, it’s not the blade.” Maru went to the painting and ran his hand across the top of the frame. The painting vanished, revealing a safe. Maru cupped his webbed fingers over a dial and light glowed from his palm. There was a heavy snap of metal and the safe opened. Maru repositioned himself so Jayce couldn’t see what was in there, then shut the safe and turned with a wooden case in his hand.
Jayce felt drawn to the box, like he was starving and a long-desired meal was inside.
“What’s in that one?” Jayce asked.
Maru rubbed a thumb against the top and half turned back to the hidden safe.
“This belonged to a friend,” Maru said. “I thought it would go to another, but sometimes the Veil does what the Veil chooses to do, and it is not my place to second-guess that decision.”
He flicked a latch and opened the box.
The hilt inside was made of a silver metal inlaid with glittering strands. The cross guard was circular, made of what looked like glass full of a golden filigree that moved of its own accord. The strands ended in a carved jade pommel.
“Wow . . .” Jayce’s jaw went slack.
Maru sighed.
“Take it.” The alien held the box to him. “I haven’t felt his spirit so strongly in a long time.”
Jayce gripped the hilt and held it up. It felt right, like it had belonged to him for years and he’d just found it again. His fingers squeezed in sequence and a column of diffuse light shot out almost a yard long. Motes swarmed around the long axis and lit up his face.
“How did you know the activation sequence?” Maru asked.
“I just . . . did,” Jayce said as the mental picture of a slightly curved blade came to him. The motes coalesced to match his vision and a sudden weight came to the weapon. Jayce fumbled with the hilt and dragged the edge across the deck, slicing through roots and plating.
“Oops!” Jayce fought to keep his hold on the hilt, and it nearly pulled away from himself. He settled into a fighting stance, the weapon held at middle guard.
“Your stance is correct.” Maru stood to one side of Jayce. “You even hold it like him.”
“Wait, am I possessed?” Jayce looked at the hilt in horror.
“No, but the spirit of passed wielders persists in the weapon. The motes that make up the blade are from stones found deep in the Veil. By tradition, a mentor will claim a stone when they lead an aspirant into the other realm. The stone is broken within the Veil and returned to our realm to be forged into a Fulcrum. This creates a chain-of-duty obligation that’s stretched back to the very beginning of the Sodality.” Maru stared at the blade for a moment. “Why would he choose you and not her?”
“Who?” Jayce brought the cross guard close to his face. “When can I practice? Can I change the way the blade is shaped like you can?”
“You can manifest it while we’re under Slip Drive. The inherent closeness to the Veil amplifies your resonance. Once you claim a stone within the Veil, you’ll be able to better meld with the weapon and the spirit of those within will help guide you.”
“So, it’s haunted?” Jayce moved the blade a few inches away from his face.
“It retains the spirit of those who’ve wielded it before. It is not connected to souls that have . . . moved on,” Maru said. “The most important thing for you to understand right now is that it is a weapon and not—”
“It feels like I have so much power!” Jayce thrust the blade up and the blade extended. The tip pierced the ceiling. There was a wet hiss.
“Uh-oh.” Jayce jerked the weapon down. Water sprayed out of the cut and soaked Jayce’s hair and jacket.
A double chime sounded from a speaker near the door.
“Maru, what in the name of the Eternal Egg Sack are you doing to my ship?” Uusanar asked.
Jayce looked from the Fulcrum blade to Maru, his panic rising.
“It is through failure that we learn the fastest.” Maru swiped his hand at Jayce’s hilt and the blade disintegrated into motes and the specks of light flowed into the cross guard. The weight suddenly lightened in Jayce’s hand and he scrunched his face at it, testing the heft.
The water spray stopped.
Maru cocked an earhole up and looked at the door to his quarters, which was open. Sarai was there, her arms crossed and her face fuming.
“Do not activate it again until we have more time for lessons.” Maru touched Jayce’s arm. “Now report to the bridge and tell them the emergency glow sticks need new batteries. Take them to Dastin as soon as you have them.”
“Yes, sir.” Jayce hooked his new weapon to his belt and avoided Sarai’s gaze as he left.
“Come in.” Maru sighed and went to the holo painting. He clasped his hands behind his back and refused to look at Sarai.
“How dare you,” she said after the door shut.
“Don’t start, Sarai. We’ve been over this,” Maru said. “The blade chooses. Not me.”
“He doesn’t deserve that hilt. It should be mine!” Sarai shouted.
“And if the Tyrant’s agents weren’t on our heels the situation might be different. The Sodality needs every Paragon it can find and—”
“He is fringe trash!” Sarai pointed at the door. “He’s no one. He just had his first touch of the Veil and you think he’s ready for the journey? You think he’ll even survive? I’ve trained for this since before I could walk, Maru, and you just go and give away my legacy to him?”
“If we impose our will and desires on the Veil, we are not Paragons,” Maru said evenly. “The blade chooses. How many times did you try and bond with that Fulcrum and how many times did it reject you?”
“Every time, but you told me that the closer we get to the Veil the likelier it would be that he would change his mind,” Sarai said.
“We stand on the cusp of the final path and the Fulcrum made its choice, Sarai. The more I ponder this . . . issue, the more I realize that this may be my fault. I never told you this, but your father didn’t want this life for you.”
Sarai took an involuntary step back.
“No. No, if I wasn’t meant for this, then I would never have felt the touch. I never would have been Attuned,” she said. “He would never have . . . he . . .”
“I knew him, Sarai. I guided him through the Veil and we fought side by side every step of the way until the Tyrant was destroyed. Before that last fight”—Maru bent his head slightly to the painting—“he told me that he didn’t want you join the Sodality.”
“I don’t believe that. Mom said she didn’t tell him she was pregnant with me.”
“It is true that your mother kept that from him. From everyone. Else we would never have let her join the mission. But your father knew her quirks from when she carried your brother and it didn’t take the power of the Veil for him to know she was pregnant again,” Maru said. “It was still wrong to bring your mother. No one should ever see their loved ones die. But if we didn’t win that day, everything would have been lost.”
“Maru, you’ve . . . you’ve been there for me ever since I was a little girl. You’re not the type to lie. Why wouldn’t my father want me to be part of the Sodality? There’s no way he could have known I’d be Attuned.”
“Your family line has a number of statistical anomalies when it comes to being Attuned. He knew the chances were higher for you after your brother didn’t develop the touch. Right after we made the decision to assassinate the Tyrant, he pulled me aside and begged me to keep you from joining the Sodality in case he fell in battle.”
“You’re not the type to lie,” Sarai said.
“I did not. When I asked why he would forbid a path to his child that he himself walked . . . he told me he had a premonition. He saw that the Veil would be your undoing. Something worse than the premature death he faced.”
Sarai was quiet for a moment.
“And what did he see, exactly?”
“He wouldn’t tell me. But I told him that it was not up to me what path you would choose, Attuned or not. I am a Paragon—it is my duty to listen to that still, quiet voice that whispers through the Veil and carry out that will. I have sat in meditation many times since taking you under my wing and I have never felt the same dread that your father felt. Though, he was the best of us.”
“So, you didn’t believe him?” she asked.
“You are not a parent. I am. While I am not human like your father, the worries we have for our children are universal. I wanted to believe him, understood his fears and his love for you, but refusing to train you always felt contrary to the will of the Veil. He died with his hilt in hand, Sarai. His final thoughts were of you, your mother, and Kaisen. Such emotions imprint on the Fulcrum blade—that is why it always rejected you. The blade chooses, Sarai.”
“Why would it choose that scum?” Sarai glared at the door.
“He has a good heart. There is potential there.” Maru shrugged.
“He’s an idiot!”
“He is inexperienced.”
“He’s an inexperienced idiot!”
Maru glanced up at the gash in the ceiling.
“You have your own Fulcrum, one with a legacy thousands of years old. Why do you think that blade chose Jayce?” Maru asked.
“What? Why would it . . .” She frowned. “Why would it pick him? Do you know?”
“Mmm. I will let you consider the answer for yourself. When you know, you’ll learn a greater truth.” Maru touched her shoulder. “Now, go find Jayce before Eabani tells him to go test out the emergency overrides in the airlock.”
Sarai nodded. “That is exactly what Eabani would do.”
“Then you’d better hurry.”
Maru stared at the holo painting for a long time after she left.