“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” he said. “Especially if you have friends to help you remember.”
“Well, I wasn’t thrown in here,” I said, turning back to the wheel mechanism. “I jumped in myself. Though admittedly, I was being chased by a bunch of soldiers at the time.”
“Ha!” Maksim said. “They really should learn not to keep us as pets.”
I almost told him I wasn’t a pet. That I was from a human planetary enclave. He was so friendly, I wanted to trust him and explain that I was a soldier fighting the Superiority.
Yeah, that would be a bad idea if I wanted to steal a ship. Fortunately, I was slowly learning my lesson. Best not to tip off a captor to what I was planning. Of course, what if I was making a mistake by not trusting him? I’d been too suspicious of Chet. But not being suspicious enough of Brade had landed me in enormous trouble.
Man, I was crap at judging people, wasn’t I?
At any rate, the best option seemed to be to remain quiet about my skills. Maksim left me and went over to chat with his varvax friend, gesturing toward me periodically. The speed at which I did my work seemed to make them suspicious, and I realized that maybe I should have pretended to be more ignorant.
Regardless, I needed to contact M-Bot. So I decided to mutter and talk to myself a lot as I worked. It felt like a good idea to demonstrate to the others that I was constantly chattering, even when nobody was around. That way, when I eventually talked to M-Bot’s drone, it wouldn’t look so odd.
I kept stripping and lubricating the mechanism—trying to slow down—for what had to have been another few hours. Until eventually I felt a mind hesitantly pushing against mine.
Chet? I asked.
Indeed, he replied. I would like to speak with you. But perhaps we should do it the quieter way you did before…
Done, I said. But Chet, I—
Please, he said. If I might begin?
Go ahead, I said, forcing myself to hold back another apology.
I have been thinking a great deal about our earlier conversation, he said. And I wanted to admit something to you. Your suspicion of me isn’t entirely unfounded. I have been…disingenuous, Miss Nightshade.
In…what way? I asked.
I am not everything I appear to be, he said. It is difficult for me to admit, for me to explain. You see, I’ve told you I don’t remember being Commander Spears—but it’s worse than that. I…have been in here so long that I’ve lost much of my identity. Not only memories, but personality as well. Everything I was…crumbled away, like dirt before a persistent stream.
As this happened, I grew frightened. It is a terrible thing to lose yourself, and I had to replace it with something. And I remembered stories. Fanciful stories perhaps, but full of men I’d admired. Allan Quatermain, Lord John Roxton, Chet Cannister. As I lost myself, I…I filled in the gaps, you see. The line between the hero adventurer and me blurred.
And so, you are right to be suspicious. You perhaps thought me a liar, and in a way I am. Because I could not show you my true self. I’ve forgotten him.
Chet, I said. That doesn’t make you a liar.
Perhaps not, he replied. But the truth is…difficult to bear. I am not really a man, Miss Nightshade. I’m a collection of stories stuffed into a brain with no context, trying so very hard to simply keep going.
You’re a hero, I said.
If that were true, he replied, then I’d have confronted the truths in the Path of Elders long ago. They…frighten me, Miss Nightshade…Spensa, they frighten me. For reasons I can’t explain, because I don’t quite remember. I think part of me is hidden in them somewhere, something that terrifies me. If I were a true hero, I would have walked that road on my own long ago.
I didn’t know what to make of that. I could feel his sincerity, and his fear. Even his confusion.
It doesn’t matter where it came from, I said firmly. You rescued me, guided me, helped me. And now you’re walking this Path with me.
All for a fee, he said. You…noticed how I look upon your icon. I see now why you…treated me as you did.
I felt another spike of shame. Mirrored by his own.
We are quite a pair, aren’t we? he sent. I hope that being near an icon will help me become more…solid. That the reality ashes, and the tie back to the somewhere, will help me somehow. I cannot entirely blame you for worrying about my intentions.
My distrust hurt you though, I said. Still hurts you.
Yes, he admitted. It’s in the persona, you understand. I…I must see myself as a hero, the gentleman explorer, beloved and trusted. Because if I’m not that, well… Well then… That is all I have left of what I once was. Those dreams, those aspirations.
It was a strikingly candid moment, where I could feel him exposed, frightened. Scud. I didn’t deserve his confession, but in that moment I knew I could trust him. The face he showed might have been a patchwork creation of his memories of stories, but the heart inside…that was good. Solid.
I tried to project this to him, and it worked. He perked up, and in a moment of wordless communication, he accepted my apology. We would continue forward, we would walk the Path of Elders, and we would find the secrets.
I broke off the communication, then aggressively attacked the last of my work on the landing gear. I probably should have been tired, but I wasn’t—nor was I thirsty. In fact, I had no idea how long I’d been working. I couldn’t use my fatigue, or even hunger, as a way to judge the passage of time. In here, I often felt like I could just keep going. Forever.
That was dangerous. I was going to have to keep a close eye on myself.
Chapter 19
A few days later, I felt I was finally getting a handle on the Broadsiders as a group.
“Yeah, there are six pirate factions,” Maksim had explained as we went through some booster maintenance on my second day as a captive. “We Broadsiders are smaller than we used to be, but we’re one of the first and most proud.”
“And the Superiority?” I’d asked. “Several of these starfighters are their models.”
“Ha! Yeah. The poor drips that run the mining operation at Surehold ask for ships to protect themselves from us. Which gives us plenty of opportunities to steal them!”
Over the next two days, I subtly picked out more information. The factions had been disorganized until a few years ago—more very small roving bands, or straggling refugees. The organization into factions had come as they solidified into the current six.
They spent most of their time trying to steal from the mining base, capturing new people who were exiled, or even raiding one another. Over the days as I watched, the Broadsiders curiously didn’t lose a single one of their nine ships in battle, though they went on a couple of raids. So maybe these were quick encounters, more about posturing than actual fighting.
Of all the Broadsiders, I found Peg the most interesting. There was something…different about the large alien. She was a tenasi, a race that I’d learned—on Starsight—was often used to pilot drones or do other fighting in the Superiority. She certainly had a dominating presence, and she watched me carefully whenever she was near.