"Earth Mother"
By M.T. Bold
Disclaimer: Miss Bold actually does not own anything Jak related except her own copies of the game. This is just a sick version of "dollhouse." These are all her own theories and since she sees the world in cutscenes the amount dialogue is tremendous. Thank you.
Shoes.
Shoes, after three or four years of consecutive use, did not wear well on him. The majority of his life had been spent barefoot. He never had any use for shoes. What was there to protect him from that the tough skin on the soles of his feet wouldn't defend against naturally? Maybe a thorny bramble or two, or a sharp rock—but on several occasions he hadn't even realized that he had stepped on anything until someone commented on the blood staining the floor.
What they were good for, though, was staring at. There was an amazing amount of detail on his footwear. He supposed he looked bored and vacant, staring at his shoes, but he felt that way. This was no world for barefooted people, not any more. A green, fluffy head leaned on his right, unarmored shoulder. Keira must be as bored as he was. She sat next to him on the very angular violet couch in the former Duchess' waiting room. The place looked rich to him. It was probably the chandelier lighting and the classical Precurian art. Jak was here because the old lady claimed to be a relation of some sort and he was desperate for details that Ashelin's computer files and datapads couldn't provide. Keira was here because he needed moral support, and Daxter was house-hunting with Tess. Apparently, Precursors were born in litters.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked idly. Their relationship had reached the point where they talked simply to hear each other talk. Against the snowless cold of Kras City in the winter, she had a really nice magenta overcoat now, bought with the money she'd won in the only Freeze Rally that Jak couldn't figure out how to master. He was fine with Silver if Keira was the one with the Gold.
"Shoes," he replied blandly. Jak didn't want to have to think of anything more interesting to think about, so he just told the truth.
"Hee," Keira smiled, sitting up and stretching. "We never had to wear shoes in Sandover. Remember that time you stepped on that stonecrab and bled all over my garage floor?"
"I swear I didn't feel anything," Jak argued half-heartedly. He stayed in the slumped, limp position on the increasingly uncomfortable couch that was becoming more and more common with the new hours he was keeping.
A smiling young woman with bubble gum pink hair and a walk that didn't require her to lift her high-heeled feet approached them. The spikes of her heels clicked against the synthesized marble floor. Jak wasn't sure how it happened, since he never saw any distance between the stilettos and the tile, but the sound was convincing enough.
"Lady Nirina's ready to see you," she said, spirited and enthusiastic. Her hair formed a large dome on her head, like a pink street lamp. She was shaped like a street lamp, too. Perhaps one day she aspired to be one. "My name's Palo. You must be—" she lowered her voice here "—the young Prince Mar? And friend?"
"Just call me Jak," he said simply. Mar was a bad name to have for someone who was allegedly born eight years ago.
"Oh, good. Right this way, Mr. Jak, sorry for the wait," she said, spinning, literally, on her heel. Her balance was remarkable. "Don't worry, everything's been explained by Governor Ashelin and I have clearance."
"Um, right," Jak said lamely. Keira recognized the sudden loss of nerve and took his hand, discreetly.
Palo led them down a hall, clicking her heels as she went. She seemed to be wearing a common uniform with the rest of the staff, but hers was more business-like—a lavender jacket and skirt with a white, purple-striped tie. Her pink lipstick made her hair look dull. There was something about Kras City that made people dress in ridiculously stylish clothing. The whole place was too flashy. Jak supposed that its relatively impervious location—on a strand of islands—made it difficult for the Metalheads to wage war, especially since the species was finally decreasing. However, Governor Ashelin repeatedly stated that she did not envy Governor Malcor's city-state in the slightest. At least her war-torn Haven City wasn't run by gangsters.
"Your Ladyship," Palo announced chipperly. She had a noteboard, the sort of computer you used a stylus to take notes on. Ashelin had one.
"Oh!" a voice gasped from behind the squarish metal desk. It was painted to look like wood. "How wonderful. Come here, come here!"
Lady Nirina sounded as little-old-ladyish as she was. The Lady's hair, grey and white, was coaxed into braids around her head in two loops. Crazy hair, Jak had learned, was a trademark in Kras for wealthy and powerful women. There were quite a few, some of them the very famous Kras courtesans, as well as affluent ex-nobles. She wore a deceptively simple business suit and was . . . not fat, not like Krew, but definitely a cheery sort of rotund. She stood up and tiptoed to a section of the room cordoned off by a gold curtain. Nirina swept it aside and revealed a view of the renowned Kras Ports at sunset.
The water around Kras was blue—actually blue, not murky or eco-charged like Haven's. It reminded Jak of Sandover and brighter times. In the distance, he could see remnants of the underwater Precursor temples, their spires jutting as high as sailboat masts. A collection of both wheeled cars and zoomers crowded the tri-level streets.
"Whoa," Jak murmured appreciatively. Nirina smiled proudly.
"It is lovely, isn't it? Haven looked like this, at its height . . . ah, yes. Palo, tea and the documents, please. They belong to Mar, now," Nirina called to her secretary. In the center of the windowed area was a low coffee table and purple couches, and she scooted herself into one. Nirina gestured across from her, presumably for Jak and Keira to sit there. "Well, the documents are yours. The tea set is most assuredly mine, but if you want—"
"I don't like tea," Jak said, trying to make her stop. Keira discreetly elbowed him. "I don't need anything to drink, thanks."
"You liked peppermint, as I recall," Nirina said sadly, suddenly. "Gaea's favorite too."
"My mother?"
Ashelin had mentioned her name once or twice. Jak took a seat, with Keira beside him, just close enough for her to touch his hand. It was a warning—it told him if she was scared or angry and made him feel protective. Nirina picked at the fibers of her suit, looking mildly hesitant under her big smile. Palo set a platter on the coffee table, laden with the pot and cups and two small data chips. The solemnity of the moment was discarded immediately as all eyes were pulled up to gaze at that gaudy pink hair. Palo seemed to know her business and left as soon as Nirina nodded a dismissal.
"There's so much to tell you," Nirina lamented. "I don't know where to start. Why don't you introduce me to your lady friend, though, first?"
"This is my girlfriend, Keira," Jak said promptly. He was used to introducing her that way, now, but the novelty had not quite worn off.
"Pleasure to meet you," Keira smiled and brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. She floundered for something else to say. "Your place is great."
"Thank you, dear," Nirina preened. She chuckled and then became more serious. "Damas would be so happy for you, I'm sure. How much do you know about the deposition, if I may ask?"
They were treading on unhappy ground. It wasn't like he hadn't tried to find out—it was his search that led him here, after all. Ashelin could only tell him so much. At the time of his birth, she had not been privy to high-level information. "Not much," Jak admitted. "Most of the files were erased by Veger and Praxis."
"And the doctor, I imagine," Nirina sighed. Jak and Keira shared a confused and curious glance. Nirina's eyebrows rose. "You don't know about the doctor? Dr. Kronus? Why . . . Mar, he's the one who designed the Dark Warrior program."
"There was another?" Jak asked. Keira reached for his hand, like soothing a dog with its hackles rising.
"You don't think those two were clever enough to come up with such an abominable act, do you? That they had the genius? Veger dabbled and Praxis had the money, but the brilliance? The evil?" Nirina looked at them with her wide blue eyes as though they had suggested that Lurker Sharks made good house pets. "That was Dr. Kronus's doing, Mar. Kronus and Gaea were the only ones who could have done it. Gaea was too compassionate, too human, but Kronus?"
Nirina shook her head softly. She reached for the blue chip. "All photographic evidence of your mother was immediately destroyed, wherever Damas found it. At that point, there were many dissenters and Gaea was too suspicious. But people do things for love, you see. Tea?"
Jak tried to say no again, but Nirina shook her head. "For Miss Keira."
"I would love some, thanks," Keira said graciously. She let Nirina pour her a cup. The old woman's hand was adorned with a ring in the shape of Mar's insignia.
"Both you and your mother were a secret of the state, you see," Nirina continued. "At the time, the dissenters were tearing your father's policies apart, particularly those concerning the Metalheads. Praxis was our staunchest ally . . . until he betrayed us. Damas was formally exiled. You must have been too young to remember the attack on the palace. But somehow . . . I don't know how, but you disappeared then, with your mother. We assumed you had both run to the Precursor Temple . . . but of course that's not true . . ."
"Temple?" Jak asked, alarmed.
Nirina gasped, and then laughed out loud. "Where are my manners!" she exclaimed. Nirina pushed back her sleeve and revealed a comm. "Palo, let her in now."
Keira raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, I met a wonderful young woman at a party two weeks past," Nirina said jovially. "And had a most enlightening conversation with her about Precurian artifacts. Apparently, she's found something that belongs to your mother."
"Who?" Jak had time to ask, before Palo led the new guest into the room.
Before Jak could get properly pissed off, Rayn, in a stunning new green dress, trilled the fingers of her gloved hand cheerfully. She descended the stairs into Nirina's window cove as though she'd done it thousands of times before. Her expression was horribly smug.
"Hello, Jak! Pleasant seeing you again, isn't it?"
"What are you doing here?" Jak demanded. Rayn laughed and removed her gloves.
"Her Ladyship invited me," Rayn said succinctly, tossing her gloves to him. He dropped them promptly. "You look well, Keira."
Keira glared at her.
Rayn took a seat on the couch next to Nirina and crossed her legs, showing off a very classy heeled boot. "Ah, looks like there's a spare cup. I hope you don't mind me, your Ladyship."
"What are you doing here?" Jak repeated himself, clearly unhappy. Bad things happened when Jak was unhappy. "Why'd you bring her here?"
"It's true, I invited her. After all," Nirina said, sipping her tea. Her smile revealed nothing. "It was her archaeologists that found this."
Nirina picked up the blue chip and tossed it to Jak. He caught it, easily, and sat down again.
"You should be grateful, Mar," Rayn said enigmatically. The steam from the hot tea coiled as it rose, framing her face. Through the window, Jak could see an air train rushing past.
"How do you know about that?" Jak said. Keira pulled him back down to a sitting position, before his temper got the best of him.
"In addition to being a crime boss and de facto queen of Kras," Rayn said with a smile. "I'm an information broker. Don't worry, Jak, I've been buying all this, not selling. I have dear memories of you, except for that nasty business concerning my father. Everything I've collected is on that chip—no copies. On my honor."
For Keira's sake, Jak held his tongue and waited for Nirina to explain herself more fully. Rayn's honor was worthless. Jak didn't enjoy being conned and this was situation bad—his answer to most major emotional conflicts was a Morph Gun. In the meantime, he counted the leaves on the tall, fronded plant behind the pair. The monstrous plant loomed tall, like a giant watch-plant. He'd seen that sort of plant come alive before.
"There are always . . . people, you see, people who know things," Nirina explained. "When I lived in Haven, I was one of the few people your mother came into contact daily with. We lived outside the Palace, in a small complex. Of course, most of the higher ups knew—Praxis, Kynde, Dialente, Veger, Coggins, Nialty, Reives, Kronus . . . most of those people are dead now. And, of course—"
"Aleczander Krew, my father," Rayn filled in. "We were nobility, once. Ah, well. What I have now is the same—without those pesky laws to abide."
"Rayn, dear," Nirina said nervously. It was clear she was not as comfortable with lawlessness as the beautiful ringleader. Jak wished he hadn't left his Gun at the door. It would have been nice to go home with a gift for the good governor.
"Ah yes! Back to business. What I do know now is that three months ago, I was contacted by a free-lance archaeology company on a particularly interesting site. I funded them and lo and behold, they found that lovely little chip you have now. Forgive me, but I had to listen to it to find out that it was for you," Rayn said amiably. She didn't look the least bit remorseful. In fact, she looked downright devious. "I found Lady Nirina and through her arranged this meeting . . . alas, you wouldn't have come alone if it I had asked."
"Gaea is waiting to be rescued! The message is very clear, if a little old," Nirina said excitedly.
"How old?" Jak asked. His callousness was getting the better of him and he amended to leave it out next time. Nirina wilted and looked scared.
"Five years," she confessed. Jak muttered something under his breath and looked away sharply. Bad odds for a rescue.
"How can we trust you?" Keira challenged. She sounded every bit as hurt as Jak felt. They actually had thought Rayn was a better person than her father. Rayn shrugged, tucking a lock of lavender hair behind her long ear. Her new earrings were gold.
"You can't. All you can do is listen to it and see for yourself. Now, if you'll excuse me. Rollo is waiting in the car and he gets antsy with the guns if I take too long," Rayn finished her tea and placed the cup on the tray. She stood and gracefully walked out of the room, bending over to retrieve her gloves. "Laters."
"Oh, Rollo is with you?" Nirina said, pleasantly surprised. She chirped her farewell to Rayn's receding back. "Do say hello to him for me, will you? He's such a sweet boy."
Jak felt Keira's hand on his fist and relaxed. He hadn't even realized that he was tensed. The door slid open and shut, whistling as it did. Nirina, as she turned to them, looked truly apologetic, her braids quivering. For no reason, Jak wondered her relation to him—she had said she was a second cousin on his father's side, right? Or was that through marriage? Or had he forgotten that she was an old friend of the family . . .?
"Let's go back to the hotel, alright, Jak?"
Stoically he nodded a reply. They waited a moment in uneasy silence, so as not to catch Rayn going down the elevator.
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