Machinations

By Michael James Wilbur

Sometimes a Dreamer just can't get a break. One thought he had finished with Mikaen and company and finally earned a vacation. Unfortunately, a favor done for an old friend leaves One right back where he started. Now One's going along with Mikaen's team to investigate the technological superpower of Ronisgald, an underground country controlled by the Artificial Intelligence of a long-dead civilization. It won't be easy; to uncover the truth about Ronisgald, One will come face to face with supervillains, mad emperors, the Ronisgald Security Force, and the rest of the Dreamers. Still, it's all in day's work for a member of the Elsewhere Incorporate, right?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael James Wilbur
• Release date: Oct 29, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452442785

Michael James Wilbur

I'm an author of light fantasy and science fiction novels, my first being "A Dreamer's Knight"; and my latest being "Wisp - A Scarecrow's Tale". While larger themes may appear in my work, I'm simply out to provide an enjoyable experience to my readers ... and possibly a brief escape from the confines of this reality. I call myself a Dreamer, and while I lack the abilities of the Dreamers of the Elsewhere Incorporate, I do my best to leave things better than I find them, be it at home, at my secondary job, or in the world at large. Don't know if I'm really having an effect on any of those, but to try is the thing as far as I'm concerned. I sincerely hope you enjoy my work, and hope that you'll let me know if you do by writing a review.

Book preview

Foreword

The Best Intentions

In my years as a Dreamer, I’ve noticed quite a bit of controversy regarding the existence of the Elsewhere Incorporate, at least on worlds where the Elsewhere’s existence is well known.

I suppose this is to be expected. We are, after all, a complex group of individuals. We can alter the fabric of the mainstream with a mere thought, travel through the timestream at will (though accuracy tends to be an issue), and have the unique ability to enter the dream realm at will without the usual nixil symbiosis.

Some believe we receive some kind of power boost through our actions, that we are somehow feeding off the happiness we create. Others think that we may be nice at the moment, but ultimately are out to destroy or conquer the universe. Still others think Dreamers are demons who set up Faustian deals with the people we help, subsequently damning them to whatever version of hell their religion touts.

While I could go through each and refute each of these theories (particularly the last, as working in league with the demons and devils of the Burning Pits would be a clear violation of the Sunset Accord), when it comes down to it, we neither need nor want the approval of the mainstream to continue helping it thrive and prosper. We offer assistance; it is ultimately the norms we assist who choose whether or not to accept our help.

Most of the more negative of these claims originate from religious zealots who view anything even remotely magical as the work of whatever boogeyman their religion supports. I find this more than a little hypocritical, seeing as most of these religions have messianic figures who are obviously practitioners of some kind of magic. Walking on water, navigating through the timestream, and even flying are considered okay as long as they are called ‘miracles’ instead of ‘magic’. Oh, well. ‘Typical norm logic’, as Two would say.

I suppose this still leaves the question of why; why do Dreamers do what we do? I can’t give you an honest answer, because I honestly don’t know what motivates the other Dreamers. It is a rather personal question. To those who wonder this, however, I would ask a question or two of my own: does the motivation truly matter as long as the end result is good? Must a person claim guidance from a deity to do the right thing?

-Alan T. Tryth

Chronicler of the Elsewhere Incorporate

Chapter 1

Restless

It was a beautiful night in the great forests of Ircandesta. The sky was clear, the moons were bright, and the air was cool and dry. The wind whispered softly as it wove through the folded leaves of the massive chronoan trees surrounding Yuna Lake.

A young tigreth woman stepped hesitantly from the cover of the trees, her folded clothes clutched to her naked bosom. Although the color of her fur was hard to make out, the light of the moons caught on the white patch of fur that covered her stomach, chest, and ended just above her nose.

Her cat-like ears twitched as she listened intently for something beyond the normal sounds of the forest. She set her clothes on a smooth rock near the edge of the lake, and with a final glance at the forest around her, she stepped into the tranquil water.

Thank the Creator! she breathed as the cool liquid washed over her road-worn body. I feel like I haven’t had a bath in ages.

The young tigreth maiden waded into the lake until the water came up to her stomach. She hummed softly as she cleaned herself in the cool water. As she started to wash her hair, however, her ears twitched. She froze for a moment before looking around only to find the lake and the forest as empty as ever.

The tigreth maiden let out a light-hearted laugh and resumed cleaning herself, only to stop a few seconds later. This time she was certain she could hear something.

After a few moments of looking around to find herself still alone, her gaze rose to the night sky. The stars were shining brightly, as were the three of Vinta’s moons that were currently visible. After a few seconds, however, it was clear that one of the stars was much brighter than the others. In fact, it was growing brighter by the second.

The tigreth maiden stared at the star a few moments, her ears continuing to twitch as the subtle whine in the air grew louder and louder. She wanted to run, but her innate curiousity made it impossible to tear her gaze away from the falling object.

A strange wind began to blow around the lake. It started as a whisper, but in a matter of moments grew into a gust that shook the limbs of all the trees.

A particularly old limb was blown free and hit the ground with a crash that brought her back to her senses. Finally tearing her eyes away from the shining light, the tigreth maiden moved toward the shore. The wind stirred up the water of the lake, making it hard to keep her footing. Desperation on her face, the tigreth maiden fought through the rippling water and rushing wind.

The brilliant light slammed into the lake just as the girl leapt from the edge of the lake and landed with feline precision behind the rock where her clothes lay. The impact sent water in all directions. Fortunately, the girl had the forethought to grab her clothes before they were soaked.

As the wind died down and the surface of the lake began to calm, the tigreth maiden stepped tentatively out from behind the rock. She clutched her clothes to her chest as she approached the edge of the lake, her eyes searching for whatever had just interrupted her bath.

Something broke through the surface of the lake. After a few moments, it became clear that it wasn’t something but someone. By the light of the moons, she could make out the smooth-skinned face of a young Galden man, apparently unconscious.

Dropping her clothes, Teria rushed into the lake and swam toward the still figure as fast as she could. She grabbed his arms, but abruptly let go when her hands touched metal.

He’s a scrap. She whispered, looking with interest at the young man’s metal arms.

Shaking her head, she grabbed him under his shoulders and dragged him to the shore of the lake.

She pressed an ear to his chest and listened for sounds of breathing. Hearing none, she put both hands on his chest and pushed hard once … twice … three times. Tilting his head back, she put her mouth to his and blew as hard as she could.

He still wasn’t breathing. Worried, the tigreth started to blow another breath into the boy when he coughed right into her open mouth.

Ew! She fell back, wiping her mouth as the boy sputtered back to life.

He pushed himself over and promptly retched lake water. The tigreth maiden patted him on the back as he fought to regain his breath.

Thank you. he breathed once he got the water out of his lungs. As he looked up at his savior, his cheeks went bright red. I-I … I ….

What? Looking down, she realized that in her hurry to help the boy, she had forgotten that she was still naked.

With a yelp, she darted back behind the rock and started clawing around for where she had set her clothes.

The young man picked her clothes off the ground and approached the tigreth maiden slowly, careful to keep the rock between them. His eyes averted and his cheeks crimson, he held the clothes out to her. Are these yours?

She kept her eyes on his as she stepped out from behind the rock and snatched the clothes from his grasp. Once she had darted back behind the rock, she said, Thanks. What’s your name, anyway?

My name is … The boy’s face fell. He ran a metal hand through his long unkempt hair, looking pained.

Slipping her shirt on over her damp fur, she asked, What’s a matter? Don’t tell me you have amnesia.

The boy shook his head. It’s not that. I just …

She gave an impatient snort as she tied her shirt into a makeshift top. Do you know who you are or not?

I’m Glen Gineros.

Your name’s Gineros? You a sentient or something?

What’s a sentient? Glen asked, looking perplexed.

How could you not know what a sentient is? Are you from another planet or something?

Hearing nothing but silence, the tigreth gave an exasperated snort and stepped out from behind the rock to get a look at the young man.

He was looking at Everblue, an odd look of wonder on his face.

What? She asked, looking up at the moon, What’s wrong with you?

I think you’re right.

Of course I’m right. Wait, what was I right about?

I think I’m from another planet.

The girl didn’t seem perturbed by this, small surprise seeing as she had witnessed his unusual arrival. She sighed and rubbed her eyes. Great. I got peeped by an alien.

I’m not a … I didn’t … the boy flushed. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-

To fall out of the sky into the lake so that I had to haul your butt out and give you mouth-to-mouth? A grin slid across her face. "So, how was it anyway?’

How was what?

Your first kiss.

I … the boy’s whole face went red. Coughing, he asked, So what planet is this, anyway?

Vinta. It’s a nice place. Her face fell. Well, usually. It kinda sucks when your parents are on your case, y’know?

I never knew my parents. The boy said, sounding a little sad. The closest thing I ever had to a family was my team, but I guess that doesn’t matter anymore.

Teria leaned toward him, her hands behind her back as she peered at his downcast face. You wanna talk about it?

Not really.

After a few moments, she kissed him on the cheek.

He looked up with surprise in his eyes.

Life can suck sometimes, She said kindly, but you can’t let it keep you down.

You’re right, the boy admitted, but-

But? But? There’s no but. You just got kissed by a beautiful lady twice. Isn’t that enough to cheer you up?

The boy let out a light-hearted chuckle. Rubbing his spiky hair with a metal hand, he said, I guess the only thing to do is to start over again.

That’s the spirit! The girl gave the boy a hearty smack on his back. And you can start by being my protector.

The boy gave her an incredulous look. Excuse me?

My protector. You know, my bodyguard. Her eyes narrowed. Or were you just gonna abandon me out here?

O-of course not, but I don’t even know your name.

Easily fixed. She thrust her hand at him. Teria Celes Myssohn.

Call me Glen, He said as he shook her hand.

She gave him a crooked grin. Glen, huh? Strange name, but it’s got a good sound to it.

The world began to blur. The night sky melted away into the beautiful twilight of the dream realm. The lake vanished, replaced with the edges of the floating island. The Chronoan trees faded until one remained, which slowly shrank into a single oak tree.

One sat up suddenly, accidentally knocking Nixil off his lap in the process.

Gyaah! Nixil bounced off the ground like a small rubber ball. After recovering from the initial shock, he flew up to One’s face, bat-like wings flapping angrily. Hey! What’s the big idea?

Sorry, Nixil. One said apologetically, I was having a strange dream.

Of course you were dreaming! This is the dream realm! Just being here is technically dreaming, you moron! With an angry snort, Nixil flew off toward the Solarius, the distant sun that hung in the very center of the dream realm.

Sighing, One fell back against the trunk of his oak tree. The dream … no, the memory had played out in his eyes like a reel from a movie. He was regaining his memories, but how? Luck had the ring. Was she doing this for some reason?

He had vaguely remembered falling into a lake during his first visit to Vinta, but he didn’t remember it actually being Yuna Lake. He certainly hadn’t remembered that Teria had been there to fish him out. It was ironic his next visit to the planet would see him arriving in a lake as well, Rinoa Lake in Homestead.

Just thinking about their first encounter brought a chuckle to his lips; she hadn’t changed a bit since then, at least not personality-wise.

I wonder if she’s doing okay. One mused.

What about Luck?

I like her. I like her a lot, but … One stopped abruptly and turned to see to whom he was speaking.

A black-robed figure stepped out from the shadows cast by the oak tree. One was on his feet in an instant, Headache materializing on his arms.

The figure lowered his gaze to the units encasing One’s arms. Ah, One’s infamous Headache. The grapple beam still giving you problems?

Who are you? One demanded.

Forgive me. I am told that I have something of an unsettling manner. The figure pulled off its hood, revealing a surprisingly youthful face and a head of long, white hair. As you can see, I am unarmed.

That doesn’t mean much in the dream realm.

The robed boy let out a laugh. True enough. However, I give you my word I’m not here to give you any trouble.

Lowering Headache slightly, One asked, How did you get to my nexus point?

You invited me. Indirectly, of course. You can call me Mixe, by the way. Mixe bowed to One. And you are the Dreamer known as Narrator Number One.

Are you a Dreamer? One asked.

Mixe shrugged. Something like that, yes.

Chuckling, One lowered Headache. I thought I was supposed to be the cryptic one.

Actually, I’ve always felt you were refreshingly straight-forward. Mixe sat down and rested his back against the tree. You see a problem and you hit it dead on, no delay. I know some consider it a flaw, but I’ve always believed it your greatest strength.

One wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he just sat down beside Mixe.

After a few moments, the boy said, The dream realm is as lovely as ever, I see. I’ve always loved the perpetual twilight.

When One didn’t respond, Mixe chuckled. Now, now. It’s not like you to be so quiet.

No one was supposed to know where I was. Even if they did, I don’t let just anyone into my nexus point.

The boy raised his eyebrows. Really? Then I guess I’m flattered. I love what you’ve done with the tree.

One opened his mouth to deliver an annoyed response, but Mixe quickly raised his hand. "I just thought you might appreciate a friendly ear, especially after what happened with Luck.

How do you know about Luck?

Ukaroh.

A pang shot through One’s heart at the mention of his ex-girlfriend. Ukaroh? You’ve seen her?

Indeed. She’s still keeping tabs on you, y’know.

How …

How is she? Mixe asked, raising an eyebrow.

One nodded silently.

Mixe considered a moment. She’s definitely gotten better at guitar. Now that she’s dyed her hair blue, she looks like someone out of one of Wong’s anime shows. Oh, and she’s still upgrading that old motorcycle of hers with any technology she thinks will make it faster … or more dangerous. It’s hard to tell with Ukaroh.

It always is. I’m glad to hear she’s doing well. One said, but it sounded forced even to him. When he had refused to leave the Elsewhere with her, she had left him without a second glance. Even after a few decades, it still stung.

They watched the clouds in silence for a few moments.

One let out a sigh. What should I do?

About Luck? To be honest, I’m not sure. Your situation is … complicated.

When it became clear that Mixe wasn’t going to continue, One let out a snort. Thanks for that, Mixe. Here I was getting worried.

It is a rather personal affair. Mixe said in mild tones, If Luck doesn’t want to be found, let’s face it; you aren’t going to find her. If you can’t find her, there’s not much of a relationship going on, is there?

Shaking his head, One said, Something about the Breath of Fire scared her, but why?

Maybe it just scared her. It is an intimidating machine.

Pssh. Luck’s faced worse things than that.

Perhaps it wasn’t the Breath of Fire that scared her, but rather what the Breath of Fire represents.

One glanced at Mixe curiously. And what does the Breath of Fire represent?

What indeed. After a few moments of silence, Mixe stood up. Well, I’d better be on my way.

Wait a sec! One scrambled to his feet. If you know something about this, just tell me already!

It’s not for me to tell, One. Don’t worry, though; I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually. With a final bow, Mixe vanished.

Chapter 2

Medical Matey

One stared glumly at the space where Mixe had been standing. Something about the young man seemed oddly familiar, though he couldn't quite place it.

Well, he muttered, turning back at his tree, I'm not getting any rest until I get this settled, and I won't get it settled until Luck resurfaces.

The Breath of Fire crossed his mind. It was badly in need of repair after the thrashing he had given it during his last assignment, and the Final Fantasy probably needed a little repair work as well. They could make for a nice distraction.

One shifted out of the Dream Realm, appearing directly inside his personal workshop. His teleportation was perfect … well, almost. He hopped off the workbench and started walking to the back of the workshop where his two dreadnaughts silently awaited his arrival. The Final Fantasy stood silently in the bay on the right, while the dragon-esque Breath of Fire lay in the other, its dismembered wings lying nearby.

Armor plating on the chest and arms is gonna need replacing. One said aloud as he surveyed the Final Fantasy for damage. Other than that, she held up pretty well.

As he strapped on his tek-boots, his mind turned to Mikaen, the wayward knight who had literally dropped out of the sky while One was taking a nap on the world of Vinta. The poor guy had been on the edge: no family, only a few friends, no place to truly call his own. Worst of all, Mikaen's fiancée had died some months previous, leaving the knight reckless to the point of suicidal.

Of course, that was before One started poking around. Now Mikaen had a nice home in Homestead, a whole slew of friends, and a pretty, kind, and strong tigreth girlfriend.

Or have you proposed yet? One mused to himself.

A hologram of a young girl appeared, a look of curiosity evident on her translucent face. Are you talking to me?

Just thinking out loud, Rebecca. I was wondering if Mikaen and Tirinia are engaged yet.

She shrugged indifferently. Meh. I never was much for the wetware concept of romance. You need a hand?

Nah, I got it. Rebecca's skrievers could repair the dreadnaughts in less than an hour, but One preferred to do the work himself, much to Rebecca's chagrin.

Hmpf. Fine. I guess I'll just activate the platforms and let you get to it then. Her hologram vanished, a distinctly annoyed look on her face.

One locked the last strap of his tek-boots as the lowest platform rose into place. Hopping on, he began a more thorough examination of his dreadnaught's damage.

He ran a metal hand along one of several gashes in the right leg of the Final Fantasy. Ouch. Still, easy enough to fix, I suppose.

While helping Mikaen, One and the young knight had come across the Breath of Fire, a combat-model dreadnaught from Earth's recent past. Although the Final Fantasy wasn't a combat model, One had been victorious. Of course, that meant he now had two giant machines to maintain.

The plating on the chest of the Final Fantasy had taken the brunt of the damage. After shearing off the rivet heads with Headache's fusion cutter, One pried one of the chest plates off and let it fall to the floor with a loud clang.

He was just starting on the next plate when the door to the main part of One's floor burst open. Two rushed through the doorway, a croquet mallet in one hand and a bottle of booze in the other.

He walked unsteadily toward the dreadnaught bays, mallet at the ready. Come out of there, Wong! There's no use hiding!

Nice mallet. One called out, smirking. Very intimidating.

Two peered at him. Even from a distance, One could see that his friend's eyes were bloodshot. Oh. It's just you.

One hopped off the platform and approached his best friend. What's going on, man?

It's Wong. He keeps messing around with the Breath of Fire. I've had to chase him out of here three times today. Shaking his head, Two asked, What about you? I figured you were gone for at least a year.

How long was I away? One asked curiously.

About two months. I started to go looking for you, but I figured you wanted some alone time. Besides, I'm sure you didn't want to deal with my protégé.

Two continued to complain, but One wasn't listening. As he returned to his repair work, his mind was on Luck. Teach had promised to tell Luck where One was hiding, and the elder Dreamer was usually reliable in such things. One had left his nexus point open for her, which on reflection was probably how Mixe got there. Two months was a long time for her not to have joined him.

One's gaze fell on the Breath of Fire. Mixe suggested that the Breath of Fire could have represented something, but what? It was a broken dreadnaught that looked a lot like a dragon. It could symbolize the Rangers who built it, or Earth on a very basic level, but One couldn't see how either of those would make Luck run off on him.

… and in the shower, no less! Fate's got enough reasons to beat the crap outta me without Wong playing the instigator! I … Two paused, his eyes narrowing. One? One, are you even listening to me?

One shook his head to clear his thoughts. Sorry. You were saying something about instigating something between Fate and Wong?

Two rolled his eyes. Ah, forget it.

I'm sorry, Two. One sighed. I'm guess I'm still a little distracted.

I can tell. You just removed a perfectly good sheet of armor plating.

One's eyes darted up to the plate he had just pried off. Sure enough, it was undamaged. Rubbing his temples, he muttered, Nice. Good job, One.

A mischievous smile crossed Two's face. This distraction wouldn't have anything to do with the Lady Luck, would it?

Have you seen her?

You mean you haven't? Two looked genuinely surprised. I figured she was with you. Sorry, man. I haven't seen her since before you left.

One sighed. Maybe Teach or Karma has-

A loud clang shot from the direction of the Final Fantasy. Two slapped One on the arm. See? See what I'm talkin' about? I bet Wong's over there trying to install an arcade cabinet into the cockpit or something.

One and Two ran toward the direction of the noise. Sure enough, they found Wong standing near the Breath of Fire.

Two brandished his mallet as though to hit Wong, but One caught his arm. Wait, Two! Look at his face!

Wong's face was pale as a sheet. There was no trace of his usual, fool-hardy smile either; in fact, he looked positively spooked.

The reason was obvious a few moments later. An overpowering acrid stench issued forth from the mass of bones and charred flesh that occupied the pilot's chair of the Breath of Fire's open cockpit.

Ugh! One covered his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt to block out the foul smell, What the hell?

It wasn't me! Wong said, his voice a high-pitched squeak, I just wanted to look at the control panel, so I sorta hacked into the Dreadnaught's systems and opened the cockpit, and there was totally a melted guy there!

A likely story! Two moved to grab the young Dreamer, but One stopped him.

He didn't do this. One told them.

Wong and Two looked at him, equally surprised.

Still covering his face, One peered at the body. There were dozens of small holes in the body, each barely a millimeter in diameter. His suspicions were confirmed when he found a wire leading from the console jabbed into what had been the pilot's neck.

Impulse control system. Glancing at his fellow Dreamers, One said, The computer tried to create a neural link with the pilot. Without the right equipment or a datajack, it essentially ripped out his nervous system.

And that melted his body? Two asked incredulously.

No, but with no life signs in the cockpit, the Breath of Fire shut off all the shielding to preserve power, including the heat shield that protects the pilot from the power core. Do you know how much heat the generator that powers this thing puts off?

Two winced. Ugh. Sucks to be him. Hey, wait! If the pilot was fried, how was the Breath of Fire still able to function?

Like I said, it assimilated his nervous system, including his brain. One gestured to the body of the Breath of Fire. It basically pulled out his brain in data format and tried to overlay it in the Breath of Fire's artificial brain.

That thing has a brain? Wong shuddered. Eww!

It's artificial, Wong … like a computer, though the base imprint was programmed using the imprint taken from an actual dragon. Tapping the datajack on the side of his neck, One continued, The ICS is supposed to bridge with the pilot's mind, creating a constant stream of data between the pilot and the dreadnaught.

Looking back at the pilot's remains, One said, It's not made to hold the entire contents of someone's mind, though. No wonder the Breath of Fire went berserk; the pain of the extraction coupled with the compression to fit inside the artificial brain would drive anyone nuts.

One tapped the blackened console thoughtfully. It was impossible to determine the race of the pilot; what was left of the corpse was blackened beyond recognition, its clothes crumbled to ash.

There was no real reason to look into it. After all, One knew it was most likely a member of either the Ronisgald Security Force or the Celestial Cathedral. Still, there was something about the body that struck One as suspect. Though he couldn't put his finger on what, he knew someone who could.

Turning back to his friends, One asked, Where's Captain Morgan these days?

The Dreamer known as Captain Morgan is a bit of an odd duck, so to speak. He may not be as weird as Wong Fo-lee, but he's definitely one of the stranger inhabitants of the Elsewhere Mansion. He also happens to be the Elsewhere's resident doctor and biologist.

When he was just a Sleeper, Captain Morgan (or rather, Morgan Nathaniel Upshire) was groomed for the medical profession from the moment he first learned to read. Private schools, special tutors, and endless tomes dominated his childhood. He grew up far too quickly and settled into the life that had been orchestrated for him.

His lost childhood always bothered him, and naturally manifested in his hobbies. Once his practice had netted him a sizeable bank account, he used a large chunk of his money to build an authentic Spanish Galleon which he named 'The Popehat' for reasons known only to himself. On the outside, it was a faithful and sea-worthy replica of an ancient pirate vessel. On the inside, it was a technological marvel, both for medicine and for sailing.

As his obsession grew, he moved his offices inside the ship. The children loved him. The parents shook their heads at the childishness of it all.

Then Morgan became a Dreamer. For some, it is a solemn moment. For others, it is more like an epiphany. For Morgan, it was as though his childhood had been given a second chance. One day, as the last few families left his office and headed to their cars, Morgan and the Popehat weighed anchor and set sail into the Atlantic Ocean. This was quite a feat for a clinic that was based in the suburbs of Salina, Kansas.

The Popehat appeared inside the Elsewhere Mansion a few weeks later, sailing on an endless sea located in one of the Elsewhere's many gray rooms. Since then, the Popehat and Captain Morgan have been a part of the Elsewhere Incorporate.

One took a moment to get his sea-legs after walking onto the deck of the Popehat; stepping out from a structurally sound hallway onto a gently rocking ship can be a little disorienting.

He glanced around for Captain Morgan, but the nautical Dreamer was nowhere to be seen.

Probably up in the crow's nest. One muttered, peering up the ship's mast.

The door to the captain's cabin burst open. Out strode a boy no older than eight years old, dressed in full pirate regalia including a hook and a peg-leg. Instead of the traditional avian companion, Captain Morgan had a black and white cat perched on his shoulder.

Arg! The boy shouted, It's a landlubber!

One rubbed his eyes, muttering, Oh, lord.

Lay your booty on the deck, you scurvy dog! The boy pulled a wobbly old cutlass from its battered sheath and took a few wild swings in One's general direction.

Yes, yes, scurvy dog. The cat said with an air of resignation. I'm sorry, One, but he's in one of his moods again.

It's cool, Simon. One lifted one Headache-encased arm and smacked the weapon from the would-be pirate's hand. It flew through the air in a wide arc and hit the deck point first.

Captain Morgan pouted. Oh, come on! You're such a damp cloth.

We can cross swords later, Captain. I've got a bit of a mystery on my hands that I'd like your help with … if you're not too busy, that is.

Aha! Another grand adventure, filled with treasure and wenches, no doubt! Captain Morgan said, letting out a loud triumphant laugh. The Popehat is ready to set sail the moment you give the word!

Or, y'know, don't. Simon leapt from Captain Morgan's shoulder and landed easily on the deck. After pausing to stretch his paws and yawn, he said, We could just stay here. Nice day for a nap.

The head of a brown cat poked out of a coil of rope. Did someone say nap?

Like you ever do anything else, Wash. Simon sat up straight, looking strangely respectable for a cat. I'm not saying it's a bad idea, mind you.

Sighing, One said, Look, I'm sorry, but I really need you in doctor mode right now.

Of course! Captain Morgan snapped his fingers. In a matter of moments, he went from a boy-pirate to a boy in a white lab-coat with a pair of spectacles on the tip of his nose … and a jaunty pirate hat on his head.

Sighing again, One asked, Is the hat really necessary?

No time for questions! Quick, to my office!

One followed Captain Morgan into the cabin. The moment he passed through the doorway, One found himself standing in a pristine medical facility. Everything was clean and shiny, the exact opposite of what you'd expect after long-term exposure to the salt air.

Taking another moment to adjust to the change (the medical bay was well insulated from the movement of the ship), One hurried over to where Captain Morgan was preparing.

Is my patient here yet? he asked, pulling on a set of rubber gloves.

One moment. One waved his hand at the nearest bed, the burnt corpse of the dreadnaught pilot appearing there a moment later.

My lad, Morgan said, putting an arm around One's shoulder, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but there's nothing I can do. He is, as we say in the medical profession, dead as a dodo.

I know he's dead. One replied, suppressing a laugh, I just need to know what he was.

Fair enough. Let's see here … Captain Morgan looked at the corpse, his interest renewed. Given the bone and teeth structures, I'm guessing he's human, Galden, or Tylaen. This basic form's quite common, isn't it? Of course, with this much tissue damage, I'm not jumping to any conclusions.

He picked up a scalpel from an instrument tray and started poking at the remains.

Feeling suddenly sick, One turned around and asked, Will this take awhile?

Ripping out a burnt chunk of flesh with a horrible squelching noise, Captain Morgan said, Hmm. Could be a lung. Could be a liver. Yeah, this will definitely take awhile.

I'll stop by later, then. I've got someone I want to check up on anyway.

Chapter 3

The Joys of Politics

Teria awoke with a start as Kajex slammed his fist against the table.

We can’t just let this slide! the sentient prince shouted, his eyes literally red. Ronisgald must answer for this affront to us all!

Sighing, Jyle replied for the fourth time, We have no way of knowing whether or not the actions taken by the Galden Security Force were sanctioned by their government.

Teria let out a snort and laid her head back on her folded arms. She had heard this argument three times already: someone would say that Ronisgald should be held accountable, to which someone would quote some obscure passage of the All Nations Alliance Charter. The two would go back and forth until most of the council was on their feet and yelling. Jyle would regain order, bringing them right back to the beginning of the cycle.

There was no argument that Galden were responsible for the incident at the ravine, nor that Ronisgald owed the rest of Vinta an explanation (especially seeing as they didn’t bother sending a delegation for the Council), but no one seemed to be able to decide what they should do about it.

Kajex suggested nothing less than all-out war, while Counciller Dreas of the Cleftan Region was in favor of a more economic punishment: embargoes and the like. King Iniagus of Wenapaj felt that since no harm had come to those kidnapped, everything was fine. Shae, the delegate from Rimstak who had been captured by the Galden force, didn’t want to act at all until it was discovered whether the Galden encountered at the ravine were acting as part of Ronisgald or as a rogue group.

Teria’s attention started wandering during the second cycle of this argument. She was about as interested in politics as a durien was in table manners.

From the looks of it, she wasn’t the only one who felt that way; Mikaen and Tirinia had clearly stopped paying attention to the proceedings as well, though Teria suspected this had more to do with their recent engagement than the boring nature of politics. They sat close, their whispers barely audible. Every so often, Tirinia would blush and let out a hushed giggle.

It was so good to see Tirinia happy. For awhile there, Teria thought her sister would be too shy to ever even try to find a mate. Her eyes caught momentarily on the engagement pendant Mikaen had given Tirinia: a crystalline seed from the chronoan tree that housed Muonsol’s royalty.

Councilor Dreas hit the table hard, jarring Teria from her thoughts. She wasn’t terribly familiar with the Cleftan Region but she was always tickled by the way Cleftans dressed. Both representatives were covered head to toe with all manner of clothing so that not even an inch of skin was visible. They even wore tinted goggles to cover their eyes.

Dreas rose to his feet, the colorful plumage of his turban bobbing with every movement of his head. Enough of this pointless debate! Even if the Galden government wasn’t behind the attack, there were Galden soldiers involved. In the very least, the Triumvates should apologize for his rogue soldiers.

Councilor Dreas, Jyle said, massaging his temples, By no means am I trying to trivialize the actions of the Galden nation. The kidnapping of the Council members was an attack on us all … or perhaps you didn’t know that my daughter had been taken as well?

Dreas was silent for a moment. Teria wondered if he (or she … it was hard to tell with Cleftans) was too stunned to speak.

Eventually Dreas sat back down. My apologies.

Look, Jyle said, rubbing his temples, I want answers as much as the rest of you. However, blithely accusing another nation of deliberate sabotage is no small matter. As all of you are undoubtedly aware-

Tirinia let out a giggle loud enough to draw attention from the other delegates. She blushed crimson in the ensuing silence while Mikaen did his best to look innocent.

Jyle frowned at the both of them. As all of you who’ve been paying attention are undoubtedly aware, relations with Ronisgald have been strained for awhile now. We have to handle this situation very delicately.

Teria yawned loud enough to catch everyone’s gaze. Letting her head rest on her arms, she asked, Are we done yet?

Flushing, Jyle said, This is not a laughing matter.

The whole kidnapping thing? No, I agree it's not a laughing matter. The endless rounds of arguing and bickering about treaties and honor? It isn’t funny, but it’s definitely boring. Teria glanced around the room, particularly at Dreas and Kajex. Even Dreas managed to look a little offended, no small feat considering his face was completely covered.

Do you have a suggestion? Jyle asked, glaring at Teria.

Well, like Shae said, we need more information.

What are you being of suggestion? Shae asked, fully aware of Teria's penchant for causing trouble.

Simple. We send someone to go check out what’s going on over there … subvertly, of course. Sneak in, get information, and get out. If nothing’s going on, then we’re in the clear. If it’s something else, knowing their plan would give us a definite edge.

Spying on another country? said King Iniagus, his magnificent red mustache quivering at the very thought. My dear kitten, that would be a clear violation of section 3, article 2 of the All Nations Alliance Charter.

Well, what would you suggest? Teria asked, bristling slightly over being called ‘kitten’, Sit here on our collective asses and wait for them to try something else?

Shaking his head, Jyle said, "Without clear evidence that the Ronisgald Government was