Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I'm just playing in Naughty Dog's sand box.
-Chapter Six-
Jak's ears slicked back against his head as the weight of what Damas was demanding sunk in. He didn't understand why his story would be so important, but the intensity of Damas' expression convinced him that he wasn't kidding. He really was depending on Jak's ability to "speak" clearly.
No one had ever relied on him like that before. He'd always had Daxter in those situations where communication counted. Facing it alone now, and knowing that lives could depend on him... Jak swallowed hard, then shoved those feelings away. They'd only distract him at a time when he needed to focus.
I need someplace to draw. He glanced at Sig, then knelt down and made a few random squiggles in the sand on the street. He looked at Sig again.
Fortunately, the Wastelander caught on. "I think we should go to the beach," he said, nodding his head in the direction Jak guessed was where the beach was located. "When Jak told me his story, he needed to draw pictures. Wet sand'd be good for that."
Jak quickly stood up and nodded. A beach would be perfect. He could have tried drawing in the street, but the sand was loose and every time a gust of wind came along, it would obliterate the lines he'd drawn. And that wasn't even taking into account the people walking around. There weren't very many people on the streets right now, but the sun was starting to peek over the horizon. It wouldn't be long before the rest of the city woke up.
"Very well," Damas said, already moving down the street. Jak and Sig fell into step behind him. People nodded respectfully as they passed, moving out of their way when they saw the king. Even with everything that must have been on his mind, Damas still acknowledged these people with a nod of his own. Once again, Jak wondered how serious Sig had been the night before. Wouldn't people show more fear than respect for someone who threatened to throw them out if they didn't obey?
He pushed those thoughts away when they reached the shore. He could think about them later. Right now he had another story to tell.
It took longer to tell it this time than it had the first, despite the fact that Damas already knew the basics. With so much potentially riding on it, Jak didn't want to leave out any details. He carefully spelled out the names of his friends. DAXTER. KEIRA. SAMOS. He tried to be more careful with his drawings, but they still came out awkward. In the end, he resorted to using sticks and sea shells to illustrate some of the events. With many questions from Damas, the story slowly unfolded.
We used the power cells to power the ring.
We just wanted to see what was on the other side.
Precursor technology likes me. I touched the machine and it responded. I don't know why. Then the ring opened and...
Jak faltered. The monster - Metal Head? - had said things when it tried to come through the ring. It was easy to communicate events and ideas, but actual strings of words were another matter entirely. Somehow, though, this felt important. He needed to try.
With a look of intense concentration on his face, he stuck his finger in the sand, not to draw, but to write. LASS RIFF GATE HAS BEEN OPEN. He tried to remember exactly what the monster had said, but everything had happened so fast, and when that thing had appeared, they'd all started panicking. Come on, Jak, think! What did it say?
It had been... talking to him? That's what it had felt like at the time, though what it had said hadn't made any sense. He hadn't been hiding at all. He- Memory flickered and the monster's words returned to him. He scrawled them out letter by careful letter, then pointed at the picture of the monster to make sure Damas knew that it was the one talking.
YOU CAN NOT HID FRUM ME BOY.
Damas stopped him from continuing with an uplifted hand. "The lass riff gate," he read, frowning. "That makes no sense."
Jak grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. He'd had to guess at the spelling on a few of those words. I probably got something wrong. Or maybe he wasn't remembering what the monster said correctly. Darn it, I should have listened to Samos. The Green Sage had warned him that he'd regret not paying attention. Jak hadn't taken his threat seriously. Really, what could possibly happen if he didn't know how to spell? A scenario like this had never crossed his mind.
"The lass riff gate," Damas repeated, more to himself than to Jak. "The lass..." He looked at Jak sharply. "The last rift gate?"
Jak's ears flicked up, catching the emphasized t's. He went over the memory in his mind again, then nodded. Yeah. I think that's it.
"What the hell is a rift gate?" Sig asked, to which Jak shrugged. He was just repeating what the monster said.
"Possibly another name for a transport ring," Damas speculated. "Though why the Metal Head would refer to it as the last is a mystery." He looked at the words again, speaking them aloud as he read them. "'The last rift gate has been opened. You cannot hide from me, boy.'"
"Most Metal Heads can't speak," Sig said, sounding troubled.
"Indeed." From Damas' tone of voice, he didn't like it either. "I can count the number of those that I've heard of on one hand, and they have all been high ranking." His violet eyes pierced Jak's. "It was talking to you?"
Jak hesitated, then shrugged his shoulders with his head tilted. Maybe? It certainly hadn't been talking to Keira or Samos, and most people didn't refer to Daxter as a 'boy' now that he'd been turned into a fuzzy animal. He just had no idea why it would have been talking to him.
"And you'd never seen this creature before?" Damas pressed.
The teen shook his head. He was pretty certain he would remember something like that.
"Hnn." The king's lips thinned as he considered all of this. "What happened next?"
There was very little of the story left to tell, and it only took a few minutes to get it across. When he was finished, Jak sat back in the sand and waited for Damas to tell him why it had been so important.
The man fingered the seaweed ring he'd made to represent the gate. "If Metal Heads are using transport rings, that could explain how they got inside the temple." All traces of thoughtfulness abruptly vanished from his face, replaced by grim determination as he rose to his feet. "Sig, I want you to take a group of warriors to the temple and assist the monks in clearing the place out. Have them disable or block off the transport rings. Jak, you will be coming with me."
Sig acknowledged the order with a nod. "Want me to bring you back some Metal Head gems?" he asked, flashing a brief, cocky grin.
Damas smiled thinly. "The more the better."
If anything, Sig's grin only became wider. He gave a brief salute, then started up the beach, pausing only to rest a hand on Jak's shoulder. "Take care o' yourself, chili pepper. Remember what I said, an' keep your ass out of trouble." He didn't wait for a response before letting go and continuing on.
Which left Jak alone with Damas. He stood up and looked at the older man, a question in his eyes. What are we going to do? The way the king had spoken had made it sound like he had something specific in mind.
At first, Damas didn't say anything, but after a moment, he clasped his hands behind his back and gave Jak an odd look. It was almost as though he was weighing him somehow, judging him by what he saw. The teen shifted self-consciously.
"You are not a Wastelander," Damas said suddenly. "But in the desert, you are either useful or dead weight." This was said with the firm conviction of a much-repeated truth. He hesitated, then lifted his chin, eyes glinting with steely resolve. "There is a task that I must do that would be easier with your help. However, if you come with me, you must swear never to speak of this with anyone." His eyes drilled into Jak like augers, demanding absolute obedience. "I do not care the method of communication. Nothing must be repeated. Do you understand?"
It was impossible not to feel intimidated, but it was nothing compared with the strong desire to help that had been rising in Jak since the first mention of trouble in that temple. Determination made him lift his own chin and meet Damas' eyes stubbornly. I promise, he said silently, placing his hand on his chest. Now tell me what to do.
-o-
Even after obtaining Jak's agreement, Damas wasn't certain that he wasn't making a mistake. But the boy represented a rare opportunity, something he hadn't expected to have until his own son was grown. It would be foolish not to take advantage of it, especially in the current situation.
He didn't speak again until they were back inside his throne room. "What many people do not realize," he said as he moved toward his throne, "is that Spargus and the Monk Temple are connected. They are aware that the monks serve us, but they do not know in what capacity." Reaching behind the chair, his slipped aside a cleverly concealed panel and pressed a button. Nothing obvious happened, which was what he expected. He pushed the panel back in place.
Curiosity and confusion were plain on Jak's face as Damas led him back to the lift. Damas didn't bother to explain what he had just done. It would be more than apparent in just a minute. He went on. "The Monk Temple is located to the south of us in an area that is difficult to reach. Most people see no reason to try."
The lift rattled and clanked as they went down... and down... and well beyond the point where it would have normally stopped. What had previously appeared to be solid dirt had actually been a buried panel that slid aside when he had pushed that button. The camouflage would have to be replaced when they came back up, of course, but that was done easily enough, and while they were below, the front door would remain locked.
"What they do not know is that the Monk Temple is located right on top of several eco vents. Eco, as you know, can be used for many things. Bullets, electricity..." He paused and gave the boy a significant look. "Shielding." The lift stopped and he stepped off, expecting Jak to follow. He did, looking around curiously as they walked. They were in a hall now, a hall constructed of warm, coppery stone with strange carvings and glyphs decorating the walls. A soft, steady light lit the area, coming from covered translucent panels that hid Precurian bulbs.
Damas' voice echoed oddly down the empty hall. "When I said that Spargus and the temple are connected, I meant that literally. There are ancient pipes buried underground that bring eco from the temple to Spargus. This eco is used to power a shield much like the one that Mar built around Haven. Our shield is not as good as the one that guards Haven, which is why we also have a gun turret, but for the most part we are protected. This and the strength of its citizens is why Spargus has never been overrun by Metal Heads."
"In return for the service the monks provide, the people of Spargus help protect the temple, both from Metal Heads and from those who would steal the monks' secrets. It is a relationship that has satisfied both sides for many years."
They were at the end of the hall now, a large round door blocking the way. It was a very typical Precursor door, made of metal that had been beaten to look like stone, and it refused to budge when Damas laid his hand on it. This was the last defense for what lay inside the room beyond. On an impulse, he refrained from performing the necessary trick to open it, looking instead at Jak.
"Have you ever seen a door like this?" he asked.
Jak reached out and ran a hand across the curving splits in the metal. He nodded then pointed up at the blue symbol that topped the arch.
"Yes," Damas confirmed. "This door will only open if you are channeling blue eco, which the Precursors conveniently provide for us." He gestured to the side, where a sparkle of blue leaked from a thin metal pipe. "What makes this door so effective is the rarity of our talent." It was still something of a shock for him to find someone who could channel eco who was not of the line of Mar. "Go on, Jak. Open it." It was a final test, to make certain the boy really could channel more than one kind of eco.
All doubt was dispelled when Jak touched the end of the pipe and immediately glowed with blue energy. Then, without hesitation, he slapped a hand on the Precursor door, making sparks of blue shoot out and sink into the metal. The door irised open under his hand.
Good. Damas nodded approvingly.
The room beyond was dominated by five thick pipes the same rusty orange color as everything else. The pipes twisted around the room, over the ceiling, and across the floor, making a tangled knot that was impossible to unravel with the eyes alone. The ends of the pipes were easy to find, though. Five colors of light spilled upward from a platform in the middle of the room, swirling together before shooting up a sixth pipe that went straight to the ceiling.
Jak's eyes were wide and staring in absolute and utter shock. He looked at the vents, then at Damas, and held up four fingers. Then, slowly, he raised the fifth.
"Yes," Damas said grimly, thinking he knew what had surprised the boy so. "That is part of why I have sworn you to secrecy. Light eco does exist. It is very rare and very powerful, and not to be played with lightly." He said that last part with a glare of warning.
Jak hesitated, as though that hadn't been what he had been trying to say, but in the end his eyes were drawn back to the five eco vents. Damas took that as his cue to finish his explanation of what they would be doing in this chamber.
"That sixth pipe takes the combined eco and uses it to power the shield." He entered the room, carefully stepping over the pipes. There was no Precursor lighting in this room, only the chaotic glow of eco, making it sometimes difficult to see where to place his feet. Jak followed behind him. When they made it to the platform itself, Damas dropped to one knee and pointed, gesturing for Jak to join him. "See these smaller openings? They lead back to the Monk Temple. Any eco that goes into them can be used to strengthen the monks' defenses. The more that we can send to them, the more they can concentrate on the Metal Head threat. By myself, that amount is not very much, but with your help..."
He trailed off and once again took stock of the boy. This would be asking a great deal of him, especially since he had never channeled light eco, let alone directed all five at once, and he was young. Perhaps too young. Light played off his features in rippling waves of color, turning his hair blond, blue, red.
Green.
It was eerie how easy it was to see in Jak what Mar could be. Even beyond his appearance, the boy shared traits that he'd seen in his son, from his ability to channel eco to his ability to get in trouble when left to his own devices.
Damas shook his head, pushing those thoughts aside as both painful and unproductive. He needed to be careful not to let Jak's resemblance to Mar color his judgment. His expression hardened for a moment. He is not my son.
"So, do you think you can do this?" Best get back to the matter at hand.
Jak bit his lip as he considered the eco, then hesitantly reached out to dip his hand in the mix. Energy shot up his arm and he gasped, snatching his arm back almost instantly. Still hissing, he shook his hand and wriggled his fingers.
Damas frowned. He is too young. "Jak-"
But before he could say anything to call this whole thing off, that stubborn expression crossed the boy's face again and he plunged his whole body in, completely submersing himself in the swirl of energy. Damas tensed, waiting to see what would happen.
Jak stood there for a moment, letting the eco saturate his body. His face tightened in an expression close to pain, and his breathing became somewhat ragged. But he made no move to pull out, and after that moment passed, he knelt down and placed his hands on the ground, right above two of the openings that Damas had pointed out. Damas let out a breath that he had been unconsciously holding as energy poured down the boy's hands.
"Good," he said, this time out loud. "You're doing good, Jak. Keep that up."
Moving to take his place next to the boy, he knelt down as well, fire and ice and lightning and healing filling his veins. Threaded through it all was the unmistakable rush of light eco that made him feel like he could walk on air. It was overwhelming. It was exhilarating. It threatened to scour him clean and leave him bare. There was too much of it, he couldn't use it.
But he could tell it where to go. Just as Jak had done, he let his hands cover two holes. As fast as the energy filled him, he pushed it right back out, serving as a living conduit. Every one of his senses was consumed and he lost track of time...
...until a soft thud next to him drew his attention back to Jak. The boy had collapsed and he was breathing heavily, but though he tried to push himself out of the eco, the effort was too weak. He'd overspent himself. Damas quickly moved to assist him. His own muscles felt more than a little rubbery, but he'd done this enough times that he was used to the feeling.
"Don't move," he commanded as he lifted Jak away from the vents. "Just let the eco fade."
Jak just smiled weakly, as though to say, Move? You've got to be kidding. Then his eyes fluttered closed and he turned his head towards Damas' chest before completely passing out.
-End Chapter Six-