Episode 17: To Trust in the Shadow
Masterson and David blocked Morta's way as the young Cometine tried to return to Desslok's quarters.
"I represent Prince Zordar himself! And I will not be kept from my sworn duty to accompany Leader Desslok and serve as my prince's eyes and ears aboard this ship!" Morta's protests were so loud Masterson thought his ears might ring all day.
"If you wish to remain aboard this ship," said Masterson, "you will obey the Leader's order to submit to the same tests we all undergo upon returning from the field. You should have done this the day you came aboard or shortly thereafter, like we did, instead of waiting."
They made it to the med bay without losing Morta, but the young man muttered complaints and curses under his breath.
Once inside an exam room, Masterson took position on one side of the door and posted David on the other.
The shipboard physician—a Gamilon recruited from Gatlantis' stock—commenced a series of tests to make sure Morta wasn't carrying any harmful contagions.
"How long will this take?" Morta demanded as the physician ran a scanner over him an inch at a time.
"Could be hours," the doctor said. "Or days, depending on whether you'll need to quarantine—"
"Days?" Morta swatted the doctor's hand away and marched toward the door. "I'm not staying here for days."
Masterson blocked Morta's path. "Yes, you are, if you need to."
It wasn't likely Morta was carrying any serious diseases. And it was even less likely he would need to quarantine, but Desslok needed Morta occupied at least half the day, and this was the excuse most likely to succeed.
"Get back over there." Masterson pointed to the doctor, who seemed irked. "Now."
Morta glared but.
The physician was under orders to make this process as slow as possible, and he was taking his orders to heart.
Desslok waited until Masterson, David, and Morta were well on their way before he left his quarters. His personal guard moved to follow him. "Remain here," he said.
The two men, more Gamilon Gatlantis transplants like half the crew, nodded and maintained their posts.
If Morta chanced this way, he would think Desslok still in his quarters. The young Cometine was fiery but brutish. He assumed too often and investigated too seldom.
Masterson had told him a few hours ago that they'd reached Telezart, and he wished to waste no more time delivering what he'd come to return.
The ruby ring in his pocket seemed eager to return home, and bursts of gladness pulsed from it every time Desslok touched it. He wished the thing would stop—leave him alone while he ferried it back to Telezart.
What he would find on Telezart's surface, he wasn't sure. What little he knew came from his mother's accounts of Trelaina, the Diviner.
To reach the hangar unnoticed, he took less heavily patrolled corridors.
A small ship, built to his specifications by Zordar, awaited him. To the prince's credit, he hadn't pried into Desslok's reasons for the things included in this flagship's design—this craft, for instance. It was little more than an armed shuttle, but it had warp capabilities, unlike standard fighters.
After receiving permission to launch from a crewman sworn to secrecy, Desslok left for Telezart.
Once through the atmosphere, he maintained high altitude, searching for the solitary mountain with a ruined city below.
Three hours later, he found it on the world's night side just after sunset.
The city was long dead.
Buildings lay in crumbling heaps, like the skeletons of forgotten animals.
Just west of the ruins stood the mountain he sought. Desslok settled the ship far enough from it to avoid a part of Cometines clustered below the north face. They seemed to be guarding an entrance. He would have to slip past them. His black cape would help mask his presence and conceal the soft glow of his comm screen, but camouflage was no replacement for caution.
Desslok approached from the southeast, far enough out of sight to keep from drawing attention. Dawn wouldn't come to the mountain for seven or eight hours based on his information, but he didn't want to linger.
Halfway to the group of Cometines, the shunk of boots in sand and loose earth sent Desslok behind a large boulder tucked against the face of the mountain.
When the Cometines were out of hearing range, he edged from behind the outcropping only to discover it wasn't just a rock. It was an entrance to a narrow passage.
His comm said it led into the mountain, but it couldn't detect further than a third of the way inside. Likely, something was blocking the signal.
To walk into the unknown might lead him to his death, but it could also prove to be an alternate route to the mountain's interior—his goal. If this passage took him inside, he wouldn't have to skirt the Cometines.
He ventured in.
Four hours he navigated winding passages, slowly mapping them using his comm so he wouldn't get lost should he need to backtrack—which he did often.
He wished at least once every five minutes that he'd reinstalled his AI, Mintra'el, before leaving the ship. The comm's limited signal would have kept her from guiding him directly through, but she would have taken some of the guesswork out of the process.
Desslok reached an opening that led to a vast cavern.
Stalactites hung from the ceiling, and boulders dotted the shore of a round lake large enough to house a small ship without it touching the edges.
In the water, fish flitted, and other water-dwellers—some familiar, some foreign—swam or made their homes.
The cavern seemed otherwise empty.
At the other end of the lake stood a rounded tunnel entrance—likely the other end of the passage the Cometines guarded, though they'd sent no one in here to watch.
A mistake, in his opinion. He would have left at least two posted here to ensure no one gained entrance via other means—as he had.
Though the oversight worked to his advantage, why guard an empty cavern at all?
Unless the emptiness was an illusion.
He ducked out of sight in the event he was correct.
Instead of leaving the mouth of the concealed passage, he withdrew his comm and scanned for anything unusual. As when he'd been outside, the comm's reach was limited, spanning even less distance than before. The signal was so restricted it stopped halfway across the lake.
He wished again for Mintra'el, but he'd left her program onboard the flagship.
A host of life signs from the fish and other water creatures in the lake appeared, but there was one more—directly above the lake, on the edge of his comm's reach.
He chanced a second look.
Nothing.
Whoever was here must be concealed. If they were, and they were Cometine, they might know of his presence, in which case, he needed to prepare to either run, fight, or talk his way out of this.
He'd prefer to go unseen throughout this entire affair, but, sidearm ready, he waited.
The only sound was the soft splish of fish and other creatures breaking the lake's surface.
No footsteps. No metallic clanks. Nothing rang against the stone walls.
He pulled his sidearm and stepped from his hiding place, weapon raised.
Though they were silent, someone was here, and he wouldn't be caught off-guard.
And where was Trelaina?
Unless…
Above the lake, a woman no older than twenty appeared. She seemed to float midair.
Everything about her was just as his mother's history described.
This was Trelaina of Telezart.
This was the Diviner of legend.
Desslok put his weapon away.
He approached the edge of the lake with steps much more confident than he felt. It would do no good to show weakness. If she was angry with him, he would face her wrath as he'd faced others', and he would survive it. Perhaps his offering would appease her.
Trelaina stepped to the door of her castle when Arach said, "He is here."
Outside, at the edge of the lake, stood a man—taller than her. His uniform wasn't like the Cometines', and something about him seemed familiar. An orange cast covered his light hair, and he had a stalwart look about him.
"What should I do?" Trelaina said to Arach, who stood beside her, invisible to the visitor's eyes.
"There is more to this one than appearance betrays. Speak with him."
Trelaina's heart fluttered as she held out an open hand toward the water and gently curled in her fingers, slipping a wave beneath the man's feet and raising him up. She formed a second disk of water ahead of and a bit higher than the first, forming a stair one step at a time.
The man followed the steps to her door and entered without hesitation.
Up close, there was even more Trelaina recognized. His eyes—so green, like the fields of Telezart before the cataclysm. But they were like something else too—something…
"Diviner." The man bowed his head to her as he entered. "Or should I say… Trelaina?" He spoke in an unfamiliar language, but her home's language detection system translated.
"How do you know me?" She stepped back, but Arach's reassuring presence lent her strength to hold her ground after that.
From one pocket, the stranger withdrew a silver disk.
A hologram appeared of a woman who resembled the stranger. She too had red hair and such green eyes. Her face looked much like Trelaina's.
The stranger spoke again. "My mother was daughter to Aurelia Guardiana—your sister's granddaughter. I am Desslok of Gamilon, and I share your blood." Truth was in his eyes.
"Usually people run from me, Desslok of Gamilon. And none have come to my door with such assertions."
Desslok presented a closed hand in offering. "I have something that belongs to you."
Trelaina held out one open palm, and Desslok laid a ruby ring in it.
"Where did you find this?" Trelaina touched the golden band gingerly. "It has been lost to me for nearly a hundred years. My father—adoptive father—made it for me when I was but a child, though he never had the chance to give it to me or teach me to wield it."
"It was in the possession of the Cometine princess. A… friend offered it to me in thanks for saving his life." He indicated the silver disk again. "There are two more, though I'm afraid I have neither."
Trelaina slipped the ring onto her right hand and held it up. "No apology is necessary. I have the other two. But I do not understand. If you are in league with the Cometines, why aid me?"
"Because they do not share my blood, Diviner. You do. And I do not like the Cometines any more than the Bolars, but both serve their purpose occasionally." He put away the silver disk, and the hologram vanished. He turned to leave.
"You are going so soon?" Trelaina said.
"I have business to attend."
"He seeks the Originals, that he might have revenge," said Arach, though only Trelaina could hear him. "If he succeeds, it will destroy him."
"Do the Originals no harm, Desslok of Gamilon," said Trelaina.
"Oh, I do not intend to harm them, Diviner. I intend to kill them," he said, so coldly Trelaina fought the urge to shiver. "They took my home from me, my people, my ship, my life, my throne. They've taken everything. I must recompense such wrong."
"Perhaps, Desslok. But not like this."
He stopped, as if her words triggered some memory.
But the next moment, he stepped out of her castle and descended each stair as it appeared. At the lake's edge, he looked back once, then left through the concealed tunnel.
Sabera kept her plans to herself as she traversed the length of the throne room, taking her station beside Zordar's throne.
The prince and his generals discussed strategy to intercept the Originals' forces once Origin's inhabitants raised resistance.
General Dyre wasn't with the group—a strange oversight for him, as he was always in attendance during these war meetings.
Perhaps he was doing as she'd instructed and keeping Invidia on a short leash, but she refrained from contacting him when he might be in the princess' presence, lest she uncover Sabera's efforts to thwart her power grab.
It was opportunities like this that made Sabera long to take the last step and seize Zordar's place as her own. Perhaps she would kill the prince. Perhaps she would let him live to serve her.
It didn't really matter, so long as she achieved her desired end.
Invidia, however, she would dispose of, without remorse. The girl had been a thorn in her side since Sabera and Zordar killed the girl's mother some years ago.
The look in Invidia's young eyes that day still made her skin crawl. It wasn't disgust, or fear, or anger. It was… glee.
That moment, to Sabera, Invidia ceased to be a child and became instead a blood-hungry creature unworthy of personhood.
It was one thing to rejoice in righteous bloodshed. It was another to revel in it. Though Sabera too took joy in a good kill, she never let others know it in such a base manner, nor did she display trophies of her kills.
Since witnessing her mother's killing, Invidia had shown too much eagerness to be the hand that plunged the knife. She had accompanied Zordar on campaigns, fought alongside the soldiers, and led bloody incursions of her own with brilliant success.
She had a weakness—her faith in Gairen's prophecies of doom and irrational fear of the Diviner—and she might be petulant and impertinent, but she wasn't irrelevant. To ignore her was to invite death. But what would be Invidia's next move?
A map of nearby space filled a floor screen and displayed in midair as a hologram. On it, Gatlantis traveled unhindered through space. Origin, their destination, was still far off, but between Gatlantis and Origin was Telezart—the Diviner's domain.
Perhaps that was why Invidia wasn't here.
Zordar knew his daughter's fear of the Diviner. Likely he'd seen to it she wasn't in attendance today—something the princess would rage over once she discovered it, which, knowing Invidia, would be soon.
Gairen was also absent due to his imposed solitude inside the temple.
She couldn't let him out any time soon. If she did, he would go about spouting his doomsaying all about Gatlantis, and she would lose half her support to fear-mongering.
Among Zordar's generals, three of the seven supported her: Gorse, Manic, and Bleak.
Nasca blatantly supported Invidia and her father, as did Torbuk—stationed on Telezart, but present via hologram—and Scorch. Dyre was hers, though he pretended to be Invidia's.
Sabera's secret majority would play in her favor soon, but she had to wait until she had at least one more supporter—or until something happened to Invidia or one of Zordar's supporters.
"Prime Minister," Nasca said, "what is your opinion on this course of action?"
Sabera took stock of the plan laid out—an ambush set up for the Original forces should they come out to meet Gatlantis. "It lacks originality," she said. "But the Originals seem simple enough. They will fall for it, and we will take their defenses."
"Don't you think we might be underestimating them?" said Scorch. "They destroyed that scout ship Nasca sent."
Infighting among Zordar's supporters, she would encourage. "Yes, they did. Nasca, why didn't you send more than one ship to Sargasso?"
"The Prime Minister is right," said Torbuk. "There should have been more ships dispatched. Why weren't there?"
"Because previous reports indicated the Original forces weren't even aware of our presence, much less sending ships out to meet us. Even now, the one ship that's left their solar system doesn't seem aware of our location. They're heading this way, but not directly. It seems their destination is Telezart." Nasca made two hand gestures that changed the holographic display to show the course of the Original ship. Just as Nasca said, it was heading straight for Telezart, though their instruments shouldn't have been able to track something that far away.
Something about this rang wrong for Sabera. But she had no facts on which to base her uneasiness.
That single Original ship could do them no harm. They had destroyed Nasca's scout, yes, but that was pure luck. They couldn't repeat such a feat.
But something in her still gnawed.
Hadn't Desslok said something about this ship—about it having some kind of inexplicable ability to escape impossible situations. It was as if the ship was alive, or had a divine hand upon it?
She dismissed the idea.
The Warbringer would see to it they prevailed. The blood of her son and so many others' would prove sufficient sacrifice to warrant their victory. She would make sure Mil's death was not in vain. No matter what she had to do—up to taking the throne and wielding Gatlantis' power herself—which she intended to do, anyway.
"We must keep the goal in mind," said Sabera. "If the Original ship proves a problem, we will deal with it."
"Assuming Desslok is done toying with it." Zordar seemed amused. "That man has an unhealthy obsession with that ship.
"You believe he will fail, my prince?" said Sabera.
"It doesn't matter," said Zordar. "Either way, he will keep them occupied, and perhaps keep the Diviner's attention until we are close enough to mount a full-scale attack on her and her world."
At this, all six generals present went silent.
Nasca was first to raise enough courage to speak. "Attack the… Diviner? But—but, Sire, no such thing has been done since the destruction of Telezart a hundred years ago. We lost everyone left planet-side in that catastrophe, as well as most space-faring forces. She has had a hundred years to prepare for our return. Think how much power she has gained—"
"Silence!" Zordar hissed at Nasca. "The Diviner is myth. If she ever existed, she is dead by now. There is no one living on that Heilel-forsaken world. So, let Desslok and the Original ship have their reckoning in the meantime, and when we arrive, we will destroy Telezart like a clod of dirt beneath a farmer's plow."
"But, Sire, I saw her. She is alive," dared Torbuk.
All other generals' attention snapped to Torbuk's hologram.
"Someone is alive," said Zordar. "But it is not the Diviner. Whoever you saw is likely a refugee who crashed on Telezart and took up residence in the Diviner's old home. The true Diviner would have killed you where you stood."
"But, Sire, she floated in midair. She controlled the waves—"
"Are you a lot of terrified children now? Is that what Gatlantis' finest have been reduced to? Sniveling babes? Whatever you saw, there is an explanation. And you've walled off the cavern in which this woman resides, have you not?"
Torbuk nodded.
"Then she is of no further consequence. Your unit will leave Telezart upon our arrival, and we will be rid of this refugee and the Diviner's former home. Are we in agreement?" His tone said this was not a true question.
Slowly, Nasca, Torbuk, and Scorch nodded.
Sabera hid a smirk.
Zordar was tired of all this terror involving the Diviner. Sabera was too. At least now, they might have some peace about the matter and not have to hear about it again until they reached Telezart.
Until then, she had to keep Invidia from finding out what her father had decided.
Within the sim-room, Invidia—as Silver—met with Dyre in his guise as Vardas.
This time, instead of taking well-walked paths populated by computer generated sims, they went to a secluded place beneath a copse of willows. The trees' boughs hung low, in curtains of green and blue that hid them from the rest of the simulated world.
Invidia turned their voice filters up as high as they would go, disguising their voices—and their words—to everyone but each other. "We must stop Sabera. Now. Before Gatlantis falls."
"The prince will keep her from anything too rash."
"But you heard Gairen's words," said Invidia. "Heilel speaks to him—warns him of coming doom. We must avert it."
"There is another problem," said Dyre. "Desslok left Gatlantis two weeks ago."
"And my father let him go?"
Dyre nodded. "It seems he wants the has-been to keep the Original ship busy while we go after Origin itself. But, Silver, I… am told it is dangerous to let him remain free."
"Who told you this?"
Dyre hesitated. "Gairen, my queen."
"He is convinced of this?"
Dyre nodded. "He says Gatlantis will fall if Desslok does not return and remain here."
"And what does Sabera think of this?"
"She has shut up Gairen in the temple. He has been kept against his will for weeks now—ever since his last vision. She tries to keep him from speaking to anyone, but he got this message to me."
"Then we must first get Desslok back aboard Gatlantis before we strike our blow against Sabera. Where is he now?"
"I do not know."
"It doesn't matter. I'll inform him Zordar himself ordered his return. That should bring him cowering back."
"Do not underestimate him, my queen. There is something about him I cannot place—something I think might be dangerous if he ever decided to use it."
Invidia chuckled. "He is a dog, and he will obey like one."
Just as Desslok took his station on the bridge, the communications officer said, "Sire, a message. From Princess Invidia."
He didn't want to talk to her, much less see her. "Put it through."
Invidia's face appeared much too close to Desslok for his liking.
The Cometine princess' lurid expression said she was much too pleased with herself about whatever news she had to deliver. "Prince Zordar orders you to return to Gatlantis."
Desslok wished she were standing here so he could grab her by the throat and silence her. But he didn't have that luxury.
Before he could throw a string of curses at her smug face, he cut the call. He would have paid to see her expression now. "What is the Eratite ship's location?" he said.
"Ten days from Telezart, Sire." The officer sent the data to Desslok's station.
"Then we will meet them before they arrive. Adjust our heading and prepare to warp."
It didn't matter if Zordar had ordered him back. He was too close to leave now—too close to his goal to shun it.
He would see the Eratites dead for what they'd done.
And it didn't matter what Invidia said about it.
Episode 17 Notes:
To read about Trelaina's first usage of the Telzarti Shards, check out the short story, "Shards."
To read about the murder of Invidia's mother and Sabera's role in it, check out the short story, "Black and White."
The title for this episode was taken from Isaiah 30:1-3:
"Woe to the rebellious children, saith the Lord, that take counsel, but not of me; and that cover with a covering, but not of my spirit, that they may add sin to sin:
That walk to go down into Egypt, and have not asked at my mouth; to strengthen themselves in the strength of Pharaoh, and to trust in the shadow of Egypt!
Therefore shall the strength of Pharaoh be your shame, and the trust in the shadow of Egypt your confusion."
