As Related by Lord High Admiral Benbow of Seachange
I’m sorry, but I couldn’t let it go. That’s just not the way I am. Quennel, Vassali and Briscoe had been “de-prioritized.” I know there was a crisis going on. Still.
No one had any problem with my taking the Herzeloyde. That’s not surprising, as it’s not their ship, and they’re all a bunch of landlubbers. What stunned them was that I’d be willing to go on my own. They’re like a herd of sheep, Cu’enashti. I enjoy pollination as much as anyone, but it’s nice sometimes to be alone at sea.
The problem is that I don’t like Tara as much as everyone else. Don’t get me wrong – I like her just fine. She’s sensible. She’s been good to me. She’s good in bed.
I just don’t understand the obsession.
Maybe it’s good that I’m one of the “unrecognized” ones. It gives me a chance to sort out my thoughts without Tarlach pushing “Tara therapy” at me, or Tommy trying to get me to subscribe to his porn channel.
I’m different. The pleroma needs different, right?
Maybe not. The weather is turning bad. Not as bad as that tsunami, but once Evan and Owen were recognized, it was smooth sailing. If the wind is against me, perhaps all this is futile. After the trip to Ashvattha and back to the mainland, I’m far behind my quarry.
But where is the Elusive Queen going? All ships make port eventually. If only I had a map.
What captain would sail without a map?
I locate the captain’s quarters. The door isn’t locked, but the room is empty, the sheets undisturbed. There is nautical equipment: a sextant, a compass, a telescope – all unused. And then I spot it, on the wall. A map of the pleroma.
It’s an entire continent. Only a few points of interest are indicated – New Merenis, Ashvattha Isle, Mt. Ouroboros, Squirrelworld, the Sublime Materialism Concourse. What kind of a mind would come up with this?
Mine, apparently. Or it might be more accurate to say that my mind has contributed to it…
Here. The southern tip of the continent is a long, thin peninsula with an archipelago immediately to the west. It’s an area filled with bays and coves and sandbars, perfect for merchants, fishermen and pirates. Between two large islands is a strait leading to an extended coastal lagoon. It’s too perfect. They must have gone somewhere in there.
They probably went around the tip of the peninsula. If that’s the case, since I’m so far behind, I might as well go the long way around the islands. I’ll approach them from the north, which they won’t be expecting.
*****
I don’t know how long I’ve been sailing. I can’t keep time, and it’s always sunset here. If the directions on the map are correct, the sun is setting in the south. There’s no movement in the sky, no stars. The sun remains frozen halfway below the horizon, bathing everything in an orange-pink light. The only change is the occasional squall, which blows up quickly, blocking everything with a curtain of thick, black clouds.
Yesterday – was it yesterday? Yesterday a new marker appeared on the map: Shroomtown. The land must seem so empty not because it is empty, but because it is unexplored. The thought excites me, providing me with some distraction from the endless, empty sea.
It’s not like I’ve never been alone on a long, boring journey before.
But I was just a nul-being then, and now I’m a Cu’enashti emanation. I’ve signed on to be a sheep. A black sheep, but a sheep nonetheless.
I can at least mark my progress. I’ve kept close to the shoreline, comparing it to the map. I’m almost around the horn now. Soon, I’ll be able to start the search for the others in earnest – for Quennel and Benbow and Vassali. Vassali was surprisingly impressive in that skirmish. Did he have training with a cutlass, or was that all intuition?
Vassali is my lover. I hadn’t really thought about it in those terms, but as the only other branch on Ophion, he has almost exclusive pollination access to me. Well, there is Tarlach, who sent fokkerflies. Tarlach has done everything possible to make me feel comfortable, but he can be a little overwhelming. Vassali has been distant. It isn’t just me; he’s that way to everyone. He still hasn’t synchronized, not quite. I think he’s a little envious of how easily I accomplished it.
That’s ironic. I consider myself a free spirit, but it was easy to join the club. Vassali, I think, is incredibly lonely, but can’t seem to get into step.
I’ve heard this sort of thing is not uncommon amongst humans.
There! The tip of the peninsula. I’ll just bring my sails round and…
It’s noon.
And then I know in my heart that the reason the sun always sets off the southern coast is that Ashvattha is an archetypal western paradise, but I’ve just turned the corner into a full-fledged tropical pirates den, and that means it’s always sunny.
What is it Hurley said? The logic of dreams. Of fantasy.
Hurley. There’s one I barely know. He’s so quiet, sometimes playful, sometimes sad. A silent clown. He tends to fade into the background, but everyone would miss him if he weren’t there.
He’s not here. I miss him.
How old am I? Years? Hundreds of rotations, I think. I’ve only been part of Ashtara for a few months, and I already feel strange being alone.
I’m probably the only one who thinks of himself as “part of Ashtara.” I still feel like I’m a sailor who signed on for a voyage. The others, if they think of it at all, feel like a heart, lung or liver. I’d better sort out which it is, because a mutinous kidney is no fun at all.
Tara tried to warn me about this. She tried to make sure I knew what I was getting into. At the time, it seemed like a grand adventure. I had nothing to lose.
And now I have something to lose?
I’ve changed.
I didn’t know I had to change.
Ashtara’s nature is evolution, which means I’m going to change more.
Oh, that stabbing in my stomach, is that fear? I never knew. I’m scared and lonely and angry and resentful. I may be centuries old, but I’m such a child at being a man.
I go back to staring at the map. There’s a strait that runs between the two largest islands. Perhaps I could go through there, asking the inhabitants at the far end if they’d seen the Elusive Queen go past. That’s assuming the presence of inhabitants. Everyone we encountered was a droid, but I’m given to understand that there are penguins.
If I designed this place, there would be whales.
A whale surfaces next to the ship.
« Hey! » I shout. « Go find the others! Tell them where I am! »
The whale flips its tail and dives.
There are holome characters because Davy and Driscoll want them, and zombies because Chase expected them, and penguins because Suibhne loves penguins. This is a mental construct. Can I really create anything I want without the energy cost of alchemy in the material world?
I want a banana.
No luck.
Maybe it doesn’t work that way. Or maybe it’s because I’m not one of the Knights of the Quest yet. It occurs to me that everyone has assumed that by doing the achievements, we’re completing the quest, but the list was labelled “Qualifying Achievements.” What’s the real quest?
Tara’s Destiny, probably.
*****
It seems like another day or two, maybe more. I’m rounding the first island now. Still no sign of anything other than palm trees.
« Hey there, » says a voice behind me. I’m so surprised I nearly fall off the poop.
« My name’s Nash Ashton, » he says, extending his hand. « I guess I’m the captain of this here ship. I’ve never sailed a damn thing in my life before. But then, I’m less than a day old, so I’m short on experience all round. I’ve got a banjo in my quarters, though, so I guess I can keep time. »
A new emanation! I’d assumed that I’d know if Manan came out of it, but maybe I can’t see through the eyes of the emanated one because I’m still unrecognized? I ask him for any news.
He has a lot to tell me. « But that’s all she wrote, » he says. « I can’t see a damn thing either, and the orientation guide says I’m supposed to. It’s that quest thing. »
« It’s okay. We’ll figure something out. At least we’re not alone. »
I turn away suddenly, but he catches something in my eyes. « You’re not like everybody else around here, are you? You’re not…»
I know the word he wants to use is “normal,” but the word he chooses is “typical.” He’s got the instincts of a good leader, this new Archon.
« There’s a force wall around my spark. I’m fully synchronized, but discrete, like a kyanoplast. »
« But you’ve been searching alone all this time, trying to help your friends out. »
« Yeah. »
« Good man, » he says, slapping his hand across my back. « Let’s dig up some grub. »
Nash’s room is completely different now. It looks like a gas station circa 1958, Phoenix, Arizona. There’s a banjo in the corner resting against the naugahyde couch, matchbooks with a rocket ship logo scattered on the table, and a poster on the wall of a pinup girl standing next to a blue-green Edsel. The pin-up girl is Tara.
He hands me a drink in a promotional glass with a cactus on it. It’s tequila. I’m aghast at this. Mariners drink rum, maybe ale. What happened to the captain’s quarters?
Nash shrugs. « Dunno, » he says. « You think I’d be a rancher or something, but no, I’m the captain of a ship. You expect logic? »
I slug it back. Tequila isn’t half bad in this climate. If we had limes, we could make margaritas. Mariners should always have limes.
« Nash, » I ask tentatively, « how do you feel about Tara? »
« Tara, » he says dreamily. « That’s the first thing I ever said. When I bumped into the roots of Yggdrasil. I just heard the word “Tara,” and it’s all I could say, over and over. I felt myself being sucked up into an energy vortex, but I wasn’t afraid at all. I just kept repeating Tara, over and over. And I had the sense of being completely and totally accepted. Like the whole world singing, “He’s one of us.” »
« Mmmm, » I say, nodding. He’s completely mental is what I don’t say.
I grab the telescope from his desk and go back on deck. It looked incongruous in a gas station anyway. Scanning down the coastline, I spot the silhouette of a ship. « It’s the Elusive Queen! »
« What’s the plan? » asks Nash, joining me.
« Wait until nightfall, then sneak on board. »
« Except there’s no nightfall here, ever. »
« New plan. We’re going to land on the island, sneak through the jungle until we get near their position, and wait for an opportunity. »
We dash intrepidly through the foliage, avoiding pythons, skirting the volcano, and regretfully passing by a tiki lounge. Perhaps we can stop for a Mai Tai on the way back. I do, however, insist on grabbing a ripe banana.
We end up behind a stand of ferns near the dock. I can see Briscoe being forced to scrub the deck. « Nightfall would be really convenient right now, » I mutter. « Failing that, some kind of distraction. »
There’s an enormous roar overhead, like a turbo jet, like nothing which ever belonged in a pirate’s cove. It’s a giant robot.
« I think that would qualify, » says Nash.
The mecha fires into the bay. There’s an enormous explosion of steam and boiling water. The Elusive Queen sways perilously; one of the droids manning her is knocked into the water.
« All hands on deck! » the captain screams. Droids pour out onto the foredeck, the half-deck, start to crawl up the ratlines. A number fill the fighting top, drawing bows and muskets, but what good will those do against the finest in 37th century holome technology?
« Those boys are stealing our thunder, » says Nash.
« Nu-uh. That warning salvo is the best they can do. The mecha is overpowered for this combat. One direct hit from that plasma cannon, and the Elusive Queen will be reduced to charcoal. »
« And we’ve got friendlies on that boat, » says Nash.
The captain has figured that out, too. Quennel is brought from below deck, a sword held to his neck. The captain is screaming something; his troops are gathered at starboard, gaping at their adversaries, the likes of which they’ve clearly never seen before.
« Now! » I hiss, diving into the water. Nash stares after me for a moment, then dives in behind me. I swim over to the dock, keeping my head as low as possible. I hoist myself onto the gangplank. Now for the tricky bit.
I make a dash for the fo’c’sle. My plan is to get below decks and hide, find Vassali, and then take out the enemy one by one.
Except that there’s a gun deck between the fo’c’sle and the hold, and it’s full of mariners loading the cannons to fire at the mecha.
« Ow! » shouts Nash. Aw hell, I forgot to warn him that this was a half-deck, and he’d have to duck.
Now the mariners are looking straight at us. I dive past them, scooting down the stairs as Nash runs straight into them. « We’ve been boarded! » one cries.
Feeling the ultimate futility of all this, I dash behind a number of crates. One of the gunners rushes past me while the others struggle with Nash. Maybe if I stay under the radar, don’t do anything to draw attention to myself…
“Benbow of Seachange, Lord High Admiral of the Skarsian League of Privateers. 54th to emanate, 8 in the color scale, resonates to 19. 1.745 meters tall, cock size 16.57 cm when erect, apparent age 31. Privateer. Totem is Punica granatum, the pomegranate, fixed star is Naos, the ship, also called Suhail, the roaring bright one. Esoteric symbol is the Archimedean solid truncated cube. Dessert is nau’gsh crème pastry boats. Function is analytic resistance, proto-conscious tendency is appropriation, designated Pirate. Blazon is pomegranate, a jolly roger argent.”
Stay under the radar. Oh, that worked swimmingly.
The gunners let go of Nash and come to attention. « Admiral Benbow Sir! » they chant. « We had no idea you were on board for a surprise inspection, Sir! »
O-kay, maybe I can leverage this into a peaceful solution.
The ship is shaken with a series of clanks and thuds. It’s like nothing that belongs in an early age of sail story at all. « Look at that! » Nash yells.
Easy for him to say as he’s looking out the gunports, but there are no windows down here at all. I leap over the gunners – it’s surprisingly easy to do so – and race up the stairs. I can see out past the cannons and into the sky. Something is happening to the mecha. The arms and legs rotate at strange angles, spout wings and jet engines. The torso flips ninety degrees and becomes some kind of flying saucer. The head remains the head, levitating bizarrely without a body.
The six ships split formation, and begin to strafe the deck of the Elusive Queen. So much for a peaceful solution.
The gunners return to their posts, apparently deciding that one admiral and one anonymous stowaway aren’t as important as half a dozen space-ready gunships with lasers. I can’t say as I blame them.
I can hear Quennel shouting to Briscoe on deck. « Where the hell is Vassali? »
I hear a thunking noise coming from inside of the ship’s surgeon’s office. I open the door to find Vassali kicking the door with his feet. He’s trussed up like a mummy.
« Let’s get you loose, » I say, looking for a blade. « The surgeon must have a scalpel, right? »
I find a saw. Okay, this is really early age of sail. Let’s not think about that too much. It’ll cut rope.
« The ship is on fire, » Nash yells. « We’ve got to get out of here! »
I manage to get Vassali loose. « Nash, Vassali. Vassali, Nash. Let’s grab the others and go. »
« Quennel and Briscoe already jumped overboard, » says Ace. « Welcome back. »
Right. We head out the other end of the ship, up through the armory and out onto the main deck. Flames are everywhere. I’m appalled. This was a beautiful ship. Was such destruction really necessary?
« Scupper the Elusive Queen is achievement #4, » says Wynne. « It’s necessary. »
Vassali shoves me into the water, then dives in behind.
The instant we’re clear, four dogfighters swoop towards the burning hulk. Or rather, two legs, a head and a torso. One of the legs activates a plasma cannon. Then we start swimming like hell before it lets loose. The Elusive Queen, no longer elusive, explodes in a ball of fire, a tottering skeleton of charcoal lurching and finally sinking into the lagoon.
“Barnabas del Eden’d, Anti-consul and Lord High Engineer to the Skarsian Matriarchy. 35th to emanate, 11 in the color scale, resonates to 31. 1.838 meters tall, cock size 18.29 cm when erect, apparent age 36. Mechanical engineer. Totem is Quercus virginiana, the live oak, fixed star is Capella H, the third twin of the she-goat. Esoteric symbol is the Archimedean solid truncated cuboctahedron. Dessert is nau’gsh pie a la mode. Function is adjudicative insight, proto-conscious tendency is duplication, designated Dual. Blazon is sable, a heart bendwise sinister inverted, non-photo blue.”
« The third twin? » asks Briscoe. « How does that even happen? »
By the time I’ve reached the shore, the mecha has reassembled itself and is preparing to land. Nash gives me a hand, pulling me out of the water.
« Ugh, I’m cold and wet, » says Quennel.
« We could gather up some brush and build a fire, » I suggest.
Everyone stares at me as though I’d suggested murdering their grandmother.
« Look, » says Briscoe. « A gas-fueled fire pit. Exactly what you’d expect to find on a deserted tropical island. I can’t seem to get it to light, though. »
I’ve got it. That’s how it works, isn’t it?
The guys from the mecha join us. « It’s great to see all of you safe, » says Wynne. « Let’s go get a drink at that tiki bar. »
« Then we can take Benbow and Barnabas home, and leave the rest of you to it, » says Ace. « We don’t need all six pilots if we just want to use the robot. »
« I’m not leaving Ethan, » says Barnabas.
« And I’m not abandoning my comrades in the middle of an adventure. »
« He’s like that, » says Quennel. « A regular Errol Flynn. »
« I kind of want to get back to the poker tournament we were playing before all of this started, » says Wynne.
« It’s no problem, » says Ace. « With Barnabas and Benbow hooked up, we’ll be able to keep track of them. Ailann says that each of the questing parties should be accompanied by a knight so that we don’t lose anyone. »
« That’s keeping us on a leash, » I grumble.
« Benbow, I don’t think you understand how frightening it is for the average emanation to feel disconnected, » says Ailann, causing me to jump half a meter. I’d forgotten that since I was recognized, everyone could hear everything.
I don’t know what’s worse – constant sharing, or constantly being alone. I think there are advantages to being human.
« He’s a little weird, » whispers Barnabas to Ethan.
Further Curious Tales of the Chevalier’s Arbor: An Achievement of Dubious Merit