Part 7 (1/2)
”You have heard of the first Unhuman War,” Hectate began softly, looking fixedly off into wilds.p.a.ce.Again Teldin nodded, this time with resignation. Hectate might be a half-elf, but he obviously shared the elven fear that some small part of a story might be omitted.
”During that time, both elves and goblinkin built terrible weapons of destruction. A few elves volunteered to become such weapons. Through a magical process that has since been deliberately forgotten, these elves were transformed. In appearance they were indistinguishable from other elves, but they had the ability to change into a creature such as... such as the one you saw aboard the Nightstalker.”
Hectate paused and met Teldin's eyes. The half-elf s face was sad but resigned as he awaited his captain's reaction. Teldin wasn't sure what was expected of him, but he nodded encouragingly. ”Go on.”
The half-elf s eyes widened with surprise. He blinked several times, then cleared his throat.
”These creatures were, of course, my ancestors. The elves named us bionoids, the suffix implying that we were a lifelike form, not a true life-form. The bionoid troops were a pivotal force in winning the war, but after victory was achieved, the 'living weapons' were found to have a serious flaw. We are alive. For centuries we have lived, struggling with our inherent contradictions but teaching each new generation to live in peace. Because we are living beings and not intelligent, undead weapons, the elves consider us a mistake. Elves, as a rule, prefer not to acknowledge their mistakes.”
The words were softly spoken, and to Teldin's ears they held a remarkable lack of bitterness.
”I'm sorry,” he said, not knowing what else to say.
A sad smile crossed Hectate's face. ”There is no need to be. I am reconciled to what I am, and there are a few-such as yourself-who seem to accept me as such.”
Teldin reached out and briefly clasped Hectate's shoulder, a comrade's gesture that answered the unspoken question. Hectate's answering smile still held uncertainty.
”What do we do now, Teldin Moore?” he asked. ”I've heard that the Imperial Fleet has put the Trumpeter at your disposal.”
That was news to Teldin. ”Where'd you hear that?”
”In the mess. I overheard some of the elves talking.”
Teldin let out a slow whistle. ”I don't imagine they were happy about it,” he said dryly.
”No, sir, they weren't,” Hectate agreed.
Teldin's mind whirled with the implications of this news. So the elves planned to give him a s.h.i.+p. If this were true, he had a whole new set of problems. Feeling a sudden need for support, he turned his back on wilds.p.a.ce and slouched wearily against the railing. The Imperial Fleet might not have originally intended to hold him against his will, but it probably hadn't occurred to the arrogant elves that he might not accede to the wisdom of their plans, or accept their offer with suitable grat.i.tude. Once they got over the shock of his refusal, who knew what they might do?
Hectate cleared his throat and added, ”If you can arrange for the Trumpeter to put down as soon as possible, sir, I'll sign on with another s.h.i.+p. The crew would not be happy to have a bionoid aboard.”
”Who says they have to know?” Teldin asked bluntly.
Hectate's mouth dropped open, then closed with an audible click. ”But-”
”And for that matter,” Teldin continued with more resolve, ”who says I have to take them up on their offer? I plan to continue my search for the Broken Sphere, but I'd prefer to do it on another s.h.i.+p, my own s.h.i.+p. When I do, I'd like you to be on that s.h.i.+p.” He paused, searching for the right words. ”I need people with me whom I can trust. When you're, well, yourself, you're a fine navigator, and as a bionoid you're among the best fighters I've seen.”
”I'm always a bionoid,” Hectate corrected softly. ”My outer form may alter, but the dual nature is always within.”
An image of a ten-foot, invincible insect flashed into Teldin's mind, bringing with it echoes of the terror he'd felt when the creature first approached him. He was surprised that the memory was as rea.s.suring as it was unnerving. ”I need you with me,” he repeated. When Hectate hesitated, Teldin asked, ”Are you saying you would prefer not to sail with me?”
The half-elf shrugged. ”Considering what I've just told you about myself, I would not blame you if you didn't want me to.”
”That's not the issue,” Teldin said with a touch of impatience. ”What is it, Hectate? Do you have other plans? Or maybe you think the search for the Broken Sphere is a waste of time?”
Hectate gave the matter such a lengthy consideration that Teldin began to think his hastilyspoken words touched on truth. ”For me, no,” Hectate finally said. ”You might remember that I jumped at the chance to sign on with a long voyage of exploration.”
”But for me?” Teldin pressed.
”I don't know,” the bionoid replied honestly. ”You have told me only that you seek answers to a personal quest, and that you are pursued by dangerous foes. Knowing so little, I could hardly advise you one way or the other.”
Teldin had to acknowledge the truth in Hectate's reasoning. He had spoken of his trust in Hectate, but he had extended little. If he wanted Hectate to continue with him- and he was surprised to realize how much he wanted this- he would have to trust the half-elf.
”I have a story of my own,” Teldin began, fingering the edge of his cloak. ”About a year ago-that is, as time is reckoned on my homeworld-I lived on Krynn, making my living as a farmer.
A spelljammer crashed on my farm, and the dying reigar captain handed me this cloak, insisting I keep it from the neogi and take it to the creators. I've been trying to do just that ever since.”
Hectate observed Teldin carefully as he spoke. ”And you hope to find at the Broken Sphere the answers to these creators?”
”That was once my goal, yes,” Teldin admitted. ”Finding the cloak's rightful owner and getting the burden off my own shoulders was all I could think of. As time went on, though, it began to look as though I might well be the rightful owner. Everyone who wants the cloak-and that includes pirates, illithids, arcane, scro, neogi, even the elves-has shown less than perfect motives.”
”Why do they want this cloak?” the bionoid asked, eyeing the black garment with mild interest.
”It's the key to the Spelljammer,” Teldin said tersely. ”The cloak I'm wearing is an artifact, thought to be the Cloak of the First Pilot. According to the best information I've been able to get, whoever wears the cloak can control the Spelljammer- provided, of course, that they can find it,”
he added dryly.
”Then the old stories are true,” Hectate said, and wonder shone in his voice and his eyes.
”When I was a child, I heard tales about a s.h.i.+p as big as a small world, which escaped its crystal sh.e.l.l like a chick coming from an egg. Do the two stories fit together? Could this be the Broken Sphere we seek?”
Teldin warmed to the bionoid's ”we,” and he met Hectate's gaze squarely. ”It's possible. The only thing that the fal-the giant slug sage, but that's another story-told me, was that I could find answers to the Spelljammer at the Broken Sphere, and since that's the best lead I've had so far, I've got to take it. Before someone beats me to it, I have to find the s.h.i.+p and take command.”
The bionoid thought this over for several long moments, then he nodded in grave agreement.
”Yes, I think you should. But, if I might ask, to what purpose?”
Teldin blinked, stunned into silence by Hectate's words.
He dimly remembered that Vallus had said something like that, but Hectate's calm, reasonable question brought the reality of his situation home. He finally had accepted his destiny as Cloakmaster, but now he saw that acceptance was not nearly enough. His destiny was his to shape, and Hectate had a valid point: To what purpose?
”The elves want me to join their war effort,” Teldin admitted carefully, steeling himself for Hectate's reaction.
Hectate merely nodded as if he had antic.i.p.ated this answer. ”Many of my people fight alongside the elves,” the bionoid said.
That seemed incredible, given what Hectate had told him about the elven att.i.tudes toward Hectate's race. ”And against the elves?” Teldin asked, looking his friend in the eye.
”Some, yes.” Hectate's gaze was steady, giving away nothing.
Teldin raked a hand through his hair. ”How do you stand?” he asked outright. ”Look, I'm sorry if I offend you, but this is a time for plain speaking.”
Again the half-elf turned his sad smile toward wilds.p.a.ce. ”If the truth must be told, I had hoped to avoid taking a stand either way.” He glanced up at Teldin. ”You were too ill to notice, but I kept to myself for the first days after the battle. It is traditional after the Change for a bionoid to spend a period of time mourning the lives he has taken. We don plain silver robes, meditate, and cleanse our souls from the stain of blood. We are a gentle people who kill efficiently but with great regret.”
Hectate's face took on a faraway look. ”I had hoped to put away my silver robes.”