A New Life

The morning sunlight shone in through a small circular window that Camden’s new dormitory possessed, coating the room in a gentle glow. The interrogation room certainly hadn’t had one of these, though perhaps it had simply been covered up. Couldn’t have the relaxing outside bleeding into the manufactured ominous atmosphere. Either way, Camden was grateful to have a bit of natural light to wake him up, the birdsong from outside soothing his nerves. He was half expecting to have awoken in his grandmother’s basement, having dreamt the past day. But alas, here he was. Still on the vessel. Still in this world.

He looked to his left, and found that Levo had already gotten up, apparently wanting to get an early start to the day. The gear shaped clock mounted on the wall read 6:30 AM. Perfect timing. Camden got up, stretched, and proceeded to fumble his way to the lavatory, washed up alongside various other people on the vessel, and was successfully able to navigate himself to the bridge. Not bad for his first day.

Arriving on the bridge, the first thing Camden noticed was the repairs happening on the front glass. Clearly it still needed to be, well, seen out of, but it seemed that the repair division had opted to patch up parts of it with additional metal plates, sacrificing visibility for extra strength. And considering what happened to the gunner, who was still in the medical bay, that was likely a good idea.

He walked up to Madam Cecilia, who was busy writing away at her station. He hesitantly tapped her on the shoulder, starling her slightly. Though the slight shock on her face dissipated nigh instantly, leaving the professional exterior that Camden was coming to know.

“Ah, Mr. Valakari. You are…” she checked her watch, its utilitarian metal figure clasped to her right wrist. “...About one minute early. Good to see you being punctual for your first day.”

“You say that like I’m some kind of employee,” Camden said jokingly. “As far as I’m aware, you’re all the ones relying on me here.”

The woman replied, a slight smirk on her face. “That does appear to be the case, doesn’t it? But don’t kid yourself, you are reliant on us too.”

She rose from her seat, brushed off her uniform from whatever invisible dirt that had apparently been on it, and motioned towards the middle of the room as she walked in that same direction.

“Now. Allow us to talk strategy. Captain?”

The bridge had been set up with a large, circular table in the middle, much like that of a conference room. As they made their way to it, so did the vessel’s captain, his uniform the same as Madam Cecilia’s, his shorter grey hair a slight mess atop his head. Camden doubted that the Captain had much time to himself nowadays, especially with him needing to direct the only vessel still running, to protect the only people still alive. The time it would take to have his hair in a specific style was almost certainly not worth spending.

“Thank you Madam Cecilia,” he said, his voice rough with age. “In order to overthrow The Iron hand, we’ll need to take them out at the epicenter, so to speak. Much like that of a bee hive, if the queen falls, so too do the rest of the workers.”

His gaze turned to meet that of Camden. “And in this case, that makes the figurative ‘queen’, or in this case ‘king’ is Lord Stone, and the workers are all of his drones.”

“Sharp as always,” Madam Cecilia concurred. “From our admittedly limited amount of intel, their headquarters seems to reside in the sky, a veritable kingdom beyond the clouds. Where above the clouds, we do not know.”

The Captain began to talk again. “Madam Cecilia, the prophecy that you brought back to my attention mentions a weapon. We’ll need to get that in order to ensure it’s fulfilled properly. Is that right?”

“That is correct, Captain.”

Camden piped up. “So step one, find the sword. Step two, find and defeat Lord Stone. Step three… celebrate?”

The Captain chuckled. “Something like that, I suppose. But it won’t be nearly as simple as you’ve made it out to be. If you think we’re going to go in guns blazing, you’re sorely mistaken. We’ll need to be stealthy, sneak our way in once we find it.”

“Yeah, that makes more sense.” Camden said, a bit sheepishly. But then it was back to planning. “So this Mysterious Weapon… do we know where to find it?”

“Well…” Madam Cecilia breathed in sharply. “...No. We aren’t exactly certain of its whereabouts.”

Great start, Camden thought sarcastically to himself. This plan was losing steam (pun very much intended) by the second.

She continued. “The only mentions of this weapon in the documents we have on file are in the prophecy itself, and half of a worn schematic in a book that covers the theoretical history. That is to say, piecing together what little information remained from before the Great Disaster.”

Great Disaster? Camden would have to ask someone about that. It was probably a good idea to get caught up on the place’s history, if only to fit in a little more. But that was for later.

“And we couldn’t just, I don’t know, make our own?” He asked. “Like, the prophecy just calls for a ‘blade’. We can’t manufacture one ourselves?”

“Not to fit the prophecy, no,” Madam Cecilia said, also disappointed in her response. “Believe me, we've already given the schematic to the repair shop and forensics, but neither division was able to make anything close to the real thing. It’s likely that we simply don’t have the methods or means to do so.”

That was far from ideal. “So then we’ll need to track it down,” Camden replied. “Assuming this ‘blade’ even exists.”

“Which it does.” The Madam stated sternly.

“Well surely someone would have an inkling of where it could be found. Even if we ourselves don’t, right?” Camden asked, hoping to find a solution.

This time it was the Captain who responded. “If they did, they probably were assassinated by Lord Stone personally. Keep in mind, it’s highly unlikely that he isn’t aware of the prophecy. It would be in his best interests to ensure it doesn’t come to fruition.”

Camden furrowed his brow. “So assuming we can’t find someone who knows about it, what other options do we have?”

Madam Cecilia looked deep in thought. “Hm… well The South had innumerable records and archives. If anyone had known where the weapon of myth resided, it would have been them.”

She looked over to the repairs going on at the windshield, with them now bolting the last metal panels in place. “Not to mention the treasure trove of extra parts that are probably lying around. We’ve actually been running a bit low on replacement parts as of late.”

The captain smiled. “It’s settled then. Conductor, set course for The South!”

⯁ ⯁ ⯁

The commute to The South was going to take quite a long time, it turned out. Not only due to the sheer distance, but also in an effort to avoid the surveillance paths of the drones that infested the airspace. Honestly, it was almost a miracle that a vessel this big hadn’t been caught and destroyed already.

With the meeting adjourned, Camden’s stomach rumbled. Right, he hadn’t even had breakfast yet. He wondered what types of food this vessel even had. Realistically, probably just rations. It took a few minutes, but he was eventually able to find his way to the mess hall, grateful for the occasional maps that were scattered sparsely in some of the hallways.

The large room was filled with numerous benches and tables, the vast majority of which were already occupied by people. The ceiling was tall, though the acoustics were surprisingly acceptable considering the size and composition of the room.

He got in line, and obtained his breakfast tray. It was strangely reminiscent of the way that he used to get meals from the cafeteria back in high school.

The breakfasts were composed of some fried bird eggs, a small pile of unidentifiable plant leaves tossed in a vinegar based dressing, and a strangely sweet bun, clearly homemade by the mess hall’s chef. It occurred to him that this vessel was less like a typical vehicle, more like its own fully functional town on wheels, considering the size of it and the existence of a mess hall.

Camden took his tray, left the line, and took a look around. The room had somehow gotten even more crowded. There were still a small amount of empty seats, though. Not knowing anyone else, he decided to sit on the bench next to Levo. Levo looked up at him, a single eyebrow raised, before turning back to his meal. Camden decided to try making small talk.

“Hey, have you heard the news?” he asked. “The bridge crew’s actually got a plan to overthrow the Iron Hand once and for all.”

Levo finished chewing before he spoke. “So I’ve been told. It won’t work, y’know.”

Camden was a bit surprised. “And why do you say that?”

“Ugh, you don’t get it, do you?” Levo asked, looking tired. “It’s those older folk with their prophecy nonsense.”

“So you don’t think it’s real?”

Levo rolled his eyes, turning to look at Camden. “Gosh, not you too. It’s just some superstition that they’re obsessed with. Whoever wrote those ancient documents didn’t know what they were talking about. Saying that someone would just magically appear and save us all? I don’t buy it.”

Levo turned back to his food. “And even if it was, we don’t need rando stepping in and messing everything up. We’ve made it this far without them.”

“I thought you needed all the help you could get?” Camden questioned.

Levo scoffed. “Yeah, keyword being help. If our beloved saviour comes through and mucks everything up, that’s not exactly helping, is it?”

Clearly Levo didn’t know he was talking to said “beloved saviour”. Though it was actually refreshing, hearing someone else with who had their doubts. Camden opted not to pursue the topic further, finishing the rest of his meal in silence.

⯁ ⯁ ⯁

Madam Cecilia sighed, finally clocking out from her shift. It had been a busy couple of weeks, from ambushing the drone checkpoint to being ambushed themselves, and now having found the one person who might be able to save them, with the vessel’s course now set to The South.

They’d been on the journey now for a while, though she’d not been able to check in on Camden to see how he’d been settling in. She had stopped by his dormitory earlier in the day, but only found his roommate Levo.

She looked across the vessel for him, but eventually found him in a location that she honestly should have probably checked first. The door was cracked slightly open for airflow, which she then opened, revealing the machine once more. Sat up against the wall, looking up at it, was none other than Mr. Valaraki himself.

“You’re not supposed to be down here you know,” she said, as if he was her student. “The door’s locked for a reason.”

He didn’t look away from the machine. “I know. I memorized the code when you opened it last week.”

“Well you’re nothing if not consistent.” The woman walked over, and stood alongside him. “How have you been holding up? I imagine you’ve had quite the eventful couple of weeks. Have you gotten used to everything?

Camden chuckled. “I don’t think I could ever get used to this.”

Madam Cecilia paused for a moment, breathing in the cool, dry air. “What’s it like, being able to live freely?” she asked.

The question took Camden off guard. That certainly hadn’t been what he was expecting to be asked. He looked over at Madam Cecilia, who was looking slightly down at nothing in particular.

“What?” he replied. “O-oh. Well, it’s nice, I guess. Not really ever at risk of dying, which is a plus. Didn’t know just how stressful this would be. Never thought I’d experience it.”

Camden looked briefly down, then back up at Madam Cecilia. “How long has it been? Since you could… live freely?”

It was a loaded question, and honestly, he wasn’t even expecting a response. There was a lengthy pause before she began to speak. She took a long, effortful sigh. “Too long,” she finally replied. “Far too long.”

It was as good of an answer as any. Camden thought for a moment, before replying in turn. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Another silence. Madam Cecilia finally looked up from the ground, but still didn’t meet Camden’s eyes. She, like he had been, was looking at the machine. It truly was a marvel of engineering and art. She could never.

“You must feel honoured, being the grandson of such a renowned inventor,” she said. “I’m almost jealous.”

“...huh?”

She finally turned to look at him. “Call it deductive reasoning. Who else would be able to build a fully functional teleportation device in their basement, alone?”

Had his grandmother been the one who built the machine in the basement? Camden figured it made some amount of sense, but he never really saw her as the engineering type. Then again, maybe he never really saw her at all.

“Mildred Valaraki, right?” he asked, to confirm.

“We knew her as Mildred Goldenrod.” Madam Cecilia replied. “Must have been her maiden name.”

“Wait… you knew my grandmother?”

“I apologize. ‘Knew’ is a stronger term than I’d intended,” the Madam replied. “It would be more accurate to say that many people knew of her. We never encountered each other personally, but one would read info in the weekly paper, news of new developments and creations. It was said that she was quite the inventor. And then even after The Iron Hand showed up, her name still circulated around, even despite the fact that nobody had heard from her since.”

This certainly came as a surprise. The inventor part, not the disappearing part. He’d never heard anything about her engineering prowess, much less seen her demonstrate it. All that he’d heard from his parents about her was the typical senior stuff, lacking in technological knowledge. Then again, nobody except him knew anything about his world’s technology. Maybe that was why his grandmother seemed technologically inept?

And moreover, had she actually been from this realm? This place? But if so, what was it that caused her to leave? And why hadn’t she ever told anybody?

“How has she been doing?” the Madam asked. “We all… heard things. Rumours. But nothing concrete ever showed up.”

A somber look overcame Camden’s face. “About that…” he trailed off.

Madam Cecilia looked slightly shocked.

“Oh. I--” she began, apologetically.

“My grandmother vanished about 9 years ago,” he said, conclusively. “I guess that doesn’t mean she’s dead, but she might as well be.”

“Don’t say that,” the Madam insisted. “If she disappeared, it must have been for a reason. She left our realm, but I don’t hold it against her.”

Camden seemed downcast, his head and eyes now directed towards the floor in front of him. “Well you said it yourself, you didn’t know her. I did. Or, well, I was supposed to. She never spent much time with us. Didn’t seem to want to.”

Madam Cecilia wasn’t sure how to respond. So she didn’t. Camden eventually began to look around, examining the structure of the room. “This vessel, it wasn’t always a wartime vehicle, was it?” he asked, both mildly curious, but also wanting to move the discussion elsewhere.

The Madam knew exactly what he was doing, but elected not to point that out, instead responding to his curiosity. “You’re perceptive, aren’t you?” she said, putting her hand flat against the frigid metal of the wall. “This was designed as an exploration vehicle. Big enough to house and sustain a full crew for month long voyages. You see, we never did finish mapping out the entirety of the world. I was told that our old leader, with the people’s approval, started an exploration initiative. But then The Iron Hand arrived. We were arrogant. Though we could fend them off no problem.”

She paused, turning back to the machine, hands behind her back. There was a certain vitriol in her voice. One that Camden hadn’t expected to hear from someone like her. She continued.

“And then they burned our city to the ground. I was too young to recall anything from that day in detail, but I do remember one thing. The chaos. My father hurrying amongst the rest of the crowd as we all clambered into whatever vehicle would take us. My mother, who was separated from us in all the commotion. Watching her vehicle get blown to bits as we escaped.”

She stopped, shaking her head slightly, as if broken from a trance. “I apologize, Mr. Valaraki. I’m sure that was a lot for you to hear.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m sorry to hear how much you’ve had to go through.”

“I assure you it’s not just me,” she replied. “The vast majority, if not all of the people on this vessel have gone through something similar, I’m sure.”

“That reminds me,” Camden began. “Since we’re on the subject of, well, tragedy. You mentioned the certain ‘Great Disaster’ in conversation a while back. What happened, if I may ask?”

“Ah, right. You wouldn’t know, would you?”

She turned to face him once more.

“According to historians, there was a civilization that came before us, though what we know of them is unfortunately quite limited. I like to think that they were a noble people. A civilization that would be proud of what ours was, back in its heyday.”

Camden watched Madam Cecilia as she talked. She looked almost passionate, talking about their history. It was the same way she got when discussing the various bits of machinery that laid about the vessel.

“We were told that they ruled the world,” she recounted. “That is, until a massive asteroid entered the atmosphere. Based on the wreckage, we believe that they attempted to detonate it in order to save themselves from much of the projected damage. Which worked, to a degree. They were able to separate some of it into many smaller asteroids. The problem then became that they now had tens of smaller, yet still deadly asteroids to deal with, along with the larger main portion that still remained intact.”

She paused briefly, before continuing.

“Suffice to say, they were wiped out. Our civilization, so the stories go, was built on the bones of theirs, created by the few who survived. When you think about it, I suppose we’ve always been fighters at heart.”

Camden supposed that she was probably right on that front.

“There was one singular upside to such a catastrophe, though,” she continued. “And that was what came along with it. A strange pink liquid that no one had ever seen. One that seeped out of the wreckage, like blood from a wound.”

“Valos Alnovarium?” Camden queried.

“See, you’re catching on. It was quite the technological development. Without it, we wouldn’t have, well, all of this,” she said, motioning to the room around them, the vessel that they resided on. Their weapons and their appliances and their vehicles.

“I was wondering, actually. Why doesn’t any of the stuff here use electricity?” Camden inquired.

The Madam appeared to be confused. “Electricity? What does electricity have to do with our machines?”

For neither the first, nor last time this month, Camden was puzzled. “Did… did nobody pursue electronics as a way to innovate?”

“You would have to consult the vessel library for the specifics, I’m afraid,” she remarked. “We are not privy to such mystical forms of advancement, it would seem. We have, say, electric light bulbs, microphones and speakers, if that’s what you’re referring to.”

“And what about computers?”

The Madam scoffed, a slight smile on her face. “Computers? Mr. Valaraki, I’m a computer. I do computations by hand, it’s part of my job on the bridge.”

Camden considered this. “Huh, funny. Where I come from, computers are devices that do the computations instead of people. Electronics are pretty much at the forefront of everything nowadays. That communication device you were talking about? Well, before it… turned into scrap, it was powered by electricity.”

“That is fascinating, to say the least,” the Madam replied. “Though I can’t say I fully understand how that would be the case.”

“And I don’t understand your Valos Alnovarium,” Camden commented. “Looks like we’re even.”

“It would seem so.”

Madam Cecilia began to head back towards the doorway, turning around before she exited the room. “I’m glad to see that you’ve been doing okay, Mr. Valaraki. Even if you don’t enjoy it, at least you’ve been tolerating us. And as I’m sure you are aware, you’ll need to tolerate us for quite a bit longer.”

She was right, this voyage to The South was undoubtedly going to take a while, not to mention wherever else they’d need to go before facing Lord Stone and The Iron Hand.

“Lock up when you’re done in here, okay?” she asked. “And maybe don’t go snooping around in the confidential areas. It won’t look good on either of our records if you get caught.”

Camden nodded. “Yeah, I got it.”

He paused, before continuing. “Hey… thanks for checking in.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Valaraki,” she replied, a slight kind smile on her face. And with that, she exited the room once more.