I’m convinced that nothing in life haunts you like your parents do. They do it through the thousands of scoldings and lectures and philosophical musings they’ve spat into your head all through the years when you were supposed to be forming your own opinions about yourself and the world around you. Even when they’re not around, they’re there, telling you what’s what. So whenever I’m making any decision, no matter how small, I do it with the echo of my father’s voice in my left ear and my mother’s in my right. Not like the two opposing viewpoints of some good-versus-evil duality, but like two well-intentioned but misguided souls who are both advising me to do the same thing. That’s why I most often do the opposite, if I can get away with it. Don’t misunderstand me; I love my parents. But I just don’t feel like myself unless I’m doing things my way.
A lot of time had passed since that fateful day when Ma and dear old Dad had tried to let the Civs take me away, and I had been trying to understand the good intentions behind their poor decision-making ever since. Now I found myself face to face with them both, in a crowded room full of all the people I hated most in the world. Well… most of the people I hated most in the world. So it goes without saying that expressing my love to my parents in that moment was about the furthest thing from my mind.
“So that’s the plan,” I said, having just finished explaining it.
“Well, then bluewave them,” said Yingler. He’d shaven his illustrious brown beard, and the chin that remained was sharp and unflattering.
I pulled out my comm and called my friends in the depths of the Regent’s palace. I had been surprised they were getting a bluewave signal that far inside, but maybe the escape tubes had something to do with that. When Chaz picked up, I set the device on the table so everyone in the room could hear.
“Hello?”
“Yeah. Hey, Chaz. It’s Mull. Everything still alright over there?”
“We’re sitting tight for now. We’ve got all the pods flipped face-up. There are just enough of them to get us all out of here in a hurry, if it comes to that. Otherwise, nothing’s changed.”
“Good. Let’s hope none of you have to take the same ride I just did. So listen, I was thinking it’d be wonderful if we could find a way to tap into the Legion’s sub-signal and take control of the robots. A good old-fashioned tech-jacking, if you will.”
“Hmm,” said Chaz. “That’s not a bad idea, actually.”
“Let’s not mince words, Chaz. It’s a pretty wonderful idea. Plus, if it works, it’ll sort of legitimize this whole scheme I’ve come up with for rescuing you guys.”
“So the Civs didn’t throw you in jail after all, huh?” The voice was Blaylocke’s.
I looked around at the cabin’s law-loving occupants. “I’d say they’re still making up their minds. Fact is, Chaz and I know more about those robots than anyone alive. They kind of need us right now.”
“It always feels good to be needed,” said Chaz.
“Can’t say I agree with you, ol’ buddy. The only thing worse than a law-lover in need is the idiot who helps him. Today, we’re that idiot.”
In typical Chaz-like fashion, he ignored my jest and stayed on task. “It’s unlikely that the synod has all three legions on the same sub-signal. They’re probably using a different wavelength for each legion, at the very least.”
“So we need to concentrate on one of the three, is what you’re saying.”
“Essentially. But that would leave two whole legions outside our realm of influence. That will be more than enough force to deal with us.”
“That’s fine. Even if I can only take control of the Evelyns, that should be enough to get us out in one piece.”
“And how are you planning to do that?”
“A magician never divulges his secrets,” I said. “Especially on open communication lines that are liable to get intercepted by prying ears.”
“You haven’t figured it out yet, have you?” Blaylocke cut in.
“I swear, Blaylocke. I’m trying to talk to Chaz, here. I know you miss me, but you’re gonna have to wait your turn. Now Chaz, I still have my remote control unit. I can fix an engine or tweak an augment, but I’m no expert on broadcast technology. This is a little outside my area of expertise. It would be a whole lot easier if Angus were still around, honestly.”
“Fortunately, between the development of my automaplane and the designing of the crackler box, I’ve accumulated quite an extensive amount of knowledge thereof.”
“You can brag all you want after you put all that knowledge to good use, Chaz. Now, if I open up the remote and describe it to you over the comm, do you think you can walk me through the modifications I need to make?”
“Eh… doubtful. That could take hours. And there’s no true way to test the sub-signal until you’re in range. Besides, someone might be listening, like you said. If they know how we modify the remote, they’ll know how to stop it. How about I give you a list of parts, and you bring them with you when you come for us? I can probably make the adjustments myself in a couple of minutes.”
“That’s why you’re the smarty-pants around here.”
Chaz gave me the list of parts, throwing in several unnecessary components in case anyone did happen to be eavesdropping on our conversation, however unlikely that was. There were a few different ways he could modify the remote, he said. As long as we could get one of them to work, we’d be in business.
“Okay, we’ll be on our way over in two shakes of a lamb’s tail,” I said, when I’d written everything down.
“Make it one shake,” Blaylocke cut in. “We just started hearing noises. Sounds like heavy machinery being moved around, or something. I don’t know what they’re doing, but I don’t like it. Maybe redecorating the throne room. The synod is probably getting impatient for the Regent to make an appearance, too.”
“Alright, I hear you. Just hang on and make sure no one does anything stupid. I know… easier said than done.”
“We’ll be waiting on you, Mull.”
I hung up. “Well, everyone. That’s our situation. The Emperor of the World is trapped in a stone box in the depths of his own palace, surrounded by eighteen thousand nightmare machines programmed to kill. Anyone who likes those odds is welcome to see me afterwards. Now, let’s get to work. We’re going to need one copy of everything on this list, for starters.”
Captain Ludolf Kupfer rose to his feet. “This proposal of yours is cowardly and poorly thought-out. Why shouldn’t we face these robotic rapscallions in open combat? Let them see the true might of the Regency. We shall defeat them on the skies and in the dirt. We’ll slaughter the bolt buckets where they stand. The people are with the Red-and-Tans. With the full support of the citizenry, how can we go wrong?”
“This is Maclin Automation we’re talking about,” I said. “You don’t understand the kind of weaponry these things are equipped with. They can adapt to their targets faster than you can blink. They’re going to take one look at you, pick the best possible thing to blow you up with, and then blow you up.”
“You simpleton,” said Kupfer. “All we need do is follow suit—arm ourselves with the weapons most potent against them. I’m sure a few pulser rounds should put those mechanical monsters in their place.”
“That’s a marvelous plan, Kupfer. Especially since they’re specifically designed to be pulser-resistant. They’ve got rubber insulation and power capacitors that should render your precious pulser rounds about as effective as a static shock. But good job on that sharp bit of deduction, there. I can see why you Civvies are so capable and efficient. With a commander like you, who needs common sense?”
“You take that back this instant. This is my ship, and I will not tolerate disrespect. I’ll have you know, I’ve had my own men tossed in the brig for less. Keep it up, and watch your criminal record grow longer than you ever imagined.”
“The Regency is under new management, in case you didn’t get the broadcast. Now, if I’m not mistaken, that makes you a rebel. It makes us all rebels.”
“If that’s the way you choose to look at it,” said Kupfer. “Any rebel worth his salt knows it’s a good, fair fight that’ll give him his best chance at victory.”
“That’s not even close to being true,” I said. “The surest way to win is by cheating.”
“If we’ll cheat anything, it’s death. Pulsers be damned. It’s back to old-fashioned bullets and black powder. We’ll take the fight straight to the bastards.”
“That’ll work great… if your goal is to dent their body armor while their flecker rounds shred you to human confetti.”
“That’s why we have flecker shields,” he said smartly.
“Seriously, doesn’t anyone around here ever second-guess this guy?”
“That’s enough out of you, Mr. Jakes. Throw him in the brig.”
His men took hold of me again, including my injured arm. They began to drag me off amid the commotion that broke out in the room as everyone tried to speak at once. It was Yingler’s voice which finally rose above the rest.
“Hold on a minute, everyone. Just settle down. Let him go, guys. My apologies, Captain Kupfer. But what Muller says about these robots bears listening to. I haven’t always believed in Mr. Jakes; in fact, I haven’t always been very kind to him. But in this case, I must admit that I feel his plan is best.”
“That’s weird,” I said. “For a minute there, it almost sounded like you were getting ready to say you’re sorry. Are you apologizing to me, Yingler?”
“Actions I’ve taken in the line of duty beget no apologies. For attempting to bring the city of Pyras under Regency sanction and hold its leaders accountable to the justice they deserve, I have no regrets. But I’ve done other things I’m not proud of, and that’s all I’m willing to say about it.”
“Aw. How sweet,” I said. “You may be a hard-ass on the outside, but inside you’re extra-soft and squishy.”
“That’s enough, Muller. I’m trying to vouch for you here, but you’re not making it easy.”
“I shouldn’t have to make it easy for you law-lovers to get a clue,” I said. “My plan is the best one we’ve got, and anyone who’s too dense to see that is in the wrong line of work.”
“Be that as it may, the decision is not mine,” said Yingler. “While I do believe your plan has merit, I can’t make that call. Technically, Captain Kupfer is my superior. I have to defer to him.”
“Maclin has gunships below Roathea,” I reminded them. “They’ve got artillery emplacements on the topside, and, as previously mentioned, close to eighteen thousand ground-pounders in the streets. I can infiltrate Roathea without causing a disturbance or alerting them to our presence, just like I explained earlier. Once I find Chaz and let him rebuild my remote control unit, I can hijack the Evelyn platoon and order them to assassinate the synod—something I tried while I was there.”
“What happened when you tried?” Yingler wanted to know.
“The synod had already revoked my command privileges by then. I don’t think my order ever went through. Once we have control of them, though, it should. With them dead, there’ll be no one left to control the other two legions. It’s the old hive-mind trick. You kill the brain, the body dies. I’m telling you, this is going to work.”
Kupfer sulked. “But… battle… and… glory.”
“Kupfer, there’s going to be plenty of battle and glory to go around. But you don’t have to charge in with your pants down to get a taste of it. I promise, if I can avoid ever being in the same room with you again after today, I will. But right now, I’m here, and I’m asking you to realize that there’s a reason I’ve been able to cause you so many headaches in the past. I may not be the smartest guy on the block, but I sure know how to cause trouble. Let me go cause some trouble for you.”
Kupfer frowned, considering my request. “You’re sure you know what you’re doing?”
I grinned. “I can count the number of times I’ve ever been sure I knew what I was doing on one hand. It’s zero. I’ve been accused of many things, Ludolf. But that ain’t one of ‘em.”
“Then tell me why I should entrust the success of this endeavor to you.”
“Because I don’t have to know what I’m doing. Everyone I love in this world is beneath that palace, and I’ll throw myself into the Churn if that’s what it takes to keep Maclin from getting to them.” I saw my Ma’s face sadden when I said that last bit.
“Right then,” said Kupfer. “I’ll let you go, but on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“Mr. Yingler goes with you.”
My jaw dropped. “Are you out of your gourd? I’ll launch my rocket-propelled crayon into the Churn before I ever team up with Yingler again.”
Kupfer shrugged. “So be it. Take him away, lads.”
The Civs were rougher with me this time.
“Alright, alright. Get off me. Let me go.” I wrenched free of them and brushed myself off.
“This is a rescue mission, Mr. Jakes. You need a team,” said Yingler.
“I need a team like a butt needs nipples.” I managed to get a few laughs from the others seated around the table with that one.
“Surely you don’t think you’ll make it through the palace on your own,” Yingler said.
“I think I’d have a much better chance than with you and your gorillas lumbering around behind me.”
“I know you prefer to do most things on your own, and that’s fine. But you need someone behind you, in case you get yourself into a bind. I’ve seen the way you rush in without a second thought sometimes. We’ve worked together before, remember.”
“Yeah, I remember. That was back when you went by the name Clinton Vilaris. Back before I knew how much of a law-loving backstabber you were. I wouldn’t put you on a team of mules pulling a wagon with no wheels for fear you’d slow them down.”
“You always were as sly and sarcastic as they come.”
“My two best qualities,” I said. “Fine. You can come, but I’m in the lead. That means what I say goes. I know you’re not used to taking orders from riffraff like me. Get used to it. I’m not about to let this thing fall apart because you suddenly decide to start making up your own rules.”
“Very well,” said Yingler, who was starkly unamused. “This is your operation, Mr. Jakes. Take the lead.”
I made my surprised face. “Wow. You’re actually going to give that to me, huh? First the almost-apology, now this. I’m starting to feel valued around here. And I have to admit, after leading the invasion of Roathea, I kind of like that people keep putting me in charge of things.”
Yingler cocked his head, the kind of gesture that said he was about to say something smart-assed. “You have a way of making yourself expendable.”
“You’d know, wouldn’t you? I guess I’m pretty good at doing other people’s dirty work. Well, every single one of you is back to being my enemy as soon as this is all over. Consider yourselves my second-string acquaintances until I rescue my real friends.”
“Don’t make me regret this, Mr. Jakes,” Kupfer said.
“If we don’t get Chaz the parts he needs, the only thing you’re going to regret is making Yingler come along in the first place. Who do I have to dismember to get this list filled out?”
“Give it to my first mate, Pearson. He’ll take care of it for you.”
“Anybody here by the name of Pearson?” I asked aloud.
A tall mouth-breather with a face for the bluewave stood and raised his hand. I gave him the scrap of paper and asked him if he knew what all that stuff was and where to get it. He stared down at the list blankly, as if he were expecting it to read itself, then blinked and looked up at me, nodding.
“How long’s it going to take you to be back with everything?” I asked.
“I dunno,” he said.
I turned to Kupfer. “Do you have any other first mates?”
“Pearson’s my best man. He’ll get you what you need.”
“If you say so… Pearson, I need all the stuff on that list within the hour. And I need it in a waterproof backpack, along with a full set of tools. Screwdrivers, pliers, wire cutters, soldering iron, multimeter, epoxy packets. The works. Got it?”
“Uh huh,” he said, nodding again.
I waited a good three seconds for him to start moving before I spoke again. “Okay. So get out of my sight.”
He signaled to one of the other men as he started toward the door. By the time he exited the cabin, half a dozen other Civs were on his heels.
“With that ostensibly out of the way,” I said, “it’s time I rounded out my team. I don’t know the rest of you from the dirt on my boots. Except my parents, here, who I will not, under any circumstances, allow to come.”
My dear old dad shot to his feet. “Now you wait just a minute, son. You and Kupfer here have set aside your differences for the purposes of tonight’s undertaking. Why can’t we? Your Ma and me have been worried sick about you these past few months. We got us a good boat and a solid crew ready to lay down their lives for the Regency. You can’t expect us to hang back here while you go putting yourself in harm’s way. I won’t stand for it.”
I wanted to tell my dad I cared too much about their safety to let them go to Roathea. While I was royally pissed him and Ma both for the position they’d put me in all those months ago, the image of the Galeskimmer getting blown to bits had been replaying itself in my mind ever since it happened, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if anything like that happened to them. If I had been a little less hot-headed when it came to my dad, I might’ve been able to articulate my feelings better. Unfortunately, I wasn’t. So I articulated my feelings poorly.
“That’s exactly what I expect you to do, Dad. I’m designating the Ostelle as my official command vessel for the mission. With Captain Kupfer’s consent, of course, I’ll be taking over as captain. I do technically own the Ostelle… if you want to get technical. Since we’re all a bunch of law-loving, boot-lickin’ straight-shooters around here, I assume you do want to get technical, as far as the law’s concerned. You and Ma feel free to stand out there and wave goodbye while we take off.”
Wisps of graying hair were clinging to Dad’s forehead. His jaw was clenched so tight I thought he might bust a row of teeth any second. “Captain Kupfer, you can’t mean to let him do this.”
Now that Kupfer had declared me the leader, he seemed to have grown somewhat detached from the proceedings. If nothing else, he appeared reluctant to go against my wishes when we were so close to getting the final details arranged. “I cannot argue with your son’s claim, Ulysses. From a legal perspective, the Ostelle does belong to him.”
I love it when the law serves my personal interests, I wanted to say, but didn’t.
Ma took the opportunity to say her piece. “Isn’t this the good you’ve been wanting to see out of your son, Uly?”
“Evelyn, this is not the time—”
“You’ve told me so often how you were waiting for the day he’d turn over a new leaf. When he’d stop acting out and do some good in this world. If that’s what you want from him, you’ve got to let him find his own way. Why not start now? Give him his boat… let him take it.”
Dad sighed. When he looked at me, I could feel those eyes like drops of liquid fire. Eyes I’d searched many times, looking for something I had never been able to find. I found no such thing this time, either. What I saw instead was the same look of contempt I’d seen a thousand times before. You’re not the man I wish you’d turned out to be, the look said. And you’ve got a long way to go if you ever want to get there… if it’s not already too late for you, that is.
“Alright, then,” said my dad, straightening. “Boat’s yours, son. No reason you shouldn’t take it. Best of luck to you. Your Ma and I’ll just need some time to gather our things. Wouldn’t want to trouble you with our clutter.”
I stood firm, dodging his guilt trip like a ninja. “Fine by me.”
I watched my parents push in their chairs and shuffle out of the cabin. I had appreciated Ma sticking up for me, and Dad for giving in, even though I could tell he was resisting the notion with every fiber of his being. Those two didn’t know the dangers that awaited them on Roathea. They, like Kupfer, seemed to think this was just some drill—some half-baked uprising they could scare away just by showing up. Maclin meant business, and now that they held the throne, they weren’t going to give it up without a fight.
“Right,” I said. “About the rest of the team.” I took a look around the room. “He looks good. And him. That guy. And this one right here. Yingler, you pick the rest. I’m just eyeballing it. Like I said, I don’t know who’s good and who isn’t. You do, so I’ll let that be your responsibility.”
“No problem,” he said.
“Before we adjourn this meeting, I should warn all of you. The Regent is safe, for now… but his family is locked up inside the brig on one of Maclin’s cruisers, the Highjinks. Given the synod’s low tolerance for messing around, I think it’s very unlikely that they’ll survive the night. I just want you all to be aware of that. The best we can hope for is to save the Regent himself. He’s been refusing to leave without his family, so we’ll see how that goes—”
My comm rang. Startled from my monologue, I snatched it up and answered. “Yeah?”
“Why, Mr. Jakes. It’s so nice to hear from you again.”
“You called me. Who is this?” I knew who it was, though. I could tell by the sharp electrical voice pattern coming through the comm’s speaker.
“We couldn’t help but overhear that you seem to have left the palace. We did caution you against that, did we not?”
“Yeah. So?”
“It would be best that you heed our advice and refrain from returning to Roathea.”
“Oh yeah? And why’s that?”
“Because if you come against us, Mr. Jakes, the heavens will bleed.”
“If I come against you, it isn’t the heavens’ blood you need to be worried about.”
“The Regency is ours now, Mr. Jakes. We have taken the liberty of expunging your criminal record, as you requested. This is a gesture of goodwill on our part. Think of it as an advance reward for your compliance. Your other demands, however, will not be met. Leave us alone, and you have our word that you’ll be left alone. This is your final warning, Mr. Jakes. Run from here and never come back. The sooner you learn that your assistance in our affairs is no longer desired, the better off you’ll be.”
“Fine,” I said. “You win. If that’s the way you want it, I’ll run. We’ll all run. We’ll take our ships and leave you alone. Good luck ruling the world.” I mashed a button and slammed the comm onto the table.
Yingler gave me a quizzical look. “You’re not actually thinking about running away… are you?”
I frowned at him. “It’s me, Vilaris. Of course I’m not running. If those geriatric slimebags think they can bully me around… well, they’re right. I’m scared out of my mind. That’s why I’m going to screw them over so bad they’ll never scare anyone again.”
By the look on Kupfer’s face, the bluewave transmission from the synod had rattled him more than me. “It’s settled, then,” he shouted, getting ahead of himself. “We ride to battle two hours before dawn.”
“I ride,” I corrected him. “And not to battle. Remember? Part of going in covertly is that we don’t make noise or shoot people. When the Ostelle flies to Roathea, it flies alone. You’re going to have to leave the rest of your fleet here.”
Kupfer’s eyes bulged. “And leave ourselves vulnerable? They’re expecting a show of force tomorrow morning. Why shouldn’t we give it to them? We should be ready, at the very least, in case this secret little foray of yours fails.”
“I’ve already explained why that’s suicide,” I said. “You might as well load up your ships and dump them into the Churn, for all the good a head-on attack like that’s going to do you.”
“It’s becoming harder to take your advice by the minute, Mr. Jakes,” Kupfer said with a scowl. “This synod needs to be stopped, and I’m having a difficult time believing you’re the one to do it.”
Yingler, of all people, was the one who spoke up for me. “With all due respect, Ludolf… I’ve seen Muller get into these mindsets of his before. He’s about as determined a fellow as you’ll ever meet. In the brief time I was with him, he found his way into all kinds of impossible situations, but he never failed to get himself—and me—out of them again. Enemy of the Regency though he may be, there’s no denying his knack for getting results. Set him in motion, and there’s little stopping him. I recommend we do just that.”
Kupfer appeared reluctant to admit defeat. I guess that’s how he’d become such a highly regarded marshal in the Civil Regency Corps. “This is too large a gamble to take on the likes of a wanted criminal. There’s too much at stake.”
“How many different ways do I have to spell it out for you?” I asked. “I may be a gamble, but I’m the best one you’ve got.”
Kupfer straightened. “My marshals and I will be accompanying you, in that case, Mr. Jakes. I hope there’s extra room aboard your boat.”
Instead of vomiting all over the table, I said, “Fine. I’m sure we can arrange a corner for you to sleep in.” I knew better than to argue with Kupfer. There wasn’t time to waste fighting battles I couldn’t win. If the old blockhead wanted to come along, I was just going to have to deal with his pomp and swagger, just like I’d have to deal with letting a few dozen filthy Civs rub their law-loving stink all over my beautiful boat. “Now, if you’ll excuse me… I’ve got a few things I need to do.”