The Starlight Lancer

Chapter Eleven: Into the Depths

"Ask those accursed fools, holed up in their sky-fortress on Kaado! Why do they not use their magick to wish for the people of the galaxy to be fed, to be protected from the very tyrannical government that oppresses them? Make no mistake—the Synatorium Allegiant is the enemy of all people it rules, and the Order of Riiva's scholars are just as much their puppets as the Chidron."

—Qerys Normitan, the Last Duke of Faldria, in correspondence with his captains during the Faldrian Conquests

Zaina woke to the wet warmth of Kitali licking her face. Gir was tending to a fire and giving happy clicks as he pulled another roast off the flame. The mid-morning sky was black with streaks of crimson.

After packing up the tent, Zaina fed Kitali and nibbled on a fruit bar. Gir's head rocked back and forth as he hummed to himself. Once the chunk of meat was cool enough, he raised it toward Zaina; again she declined, waving her hands and head, but Kitali eagerly tore off a mouthful. After a shrug, Gir consumed it in one bite. Then he patted his stomach and released a deep, satisfied sigh.

Neither said a word. Gir stared out at the horizon while sipping steaming black liquid from a metal container. A frown clung to Zaina's face. Is he looking for something? Taking it in? It's not exactly picturesque.

Gir shifted his weight forward and rested his hands on his knees. "All right," he said. "It's time to meet Gizmo."

Zaina tilted her head. "Gizmo? Who's that?"

Gir scowled. In a low voice, he said, "The most annoying glyph in the galaxy, that's who."

He pulled a vis-screen up on his wrist and pressed a button—a small, hovering drone popped out of the ship's cockpit. The glyph was circular with two glowing micro-engines attached to the main body via magnet slides. The outer hull was gray with a single blue light front and center.

"Hello," a robotic voice chirped from the glyph's audio emitter. "Hello! Oh, hello! My name is—zzz Giz—zzz—mo. How can I help you today, Giramodo?"

Gir whispered to Zaina, "The damn thing can't even get my name right, it's so old."

"Giz—zzz—mo's—zzz audio detector didn't—"

Gir turned and interrupted the glyph, "That's quite all right, now. Gizmo, I'd like you to meet Zaina."

Gizmo turned to her and said, "Z—zzz—Zaina! I think that's—zzz a lovely name. Welcome to Demelia!"

She raised a hand and gave a curt wave. "Um—thanks, Gizmo. It's good to meet you."

"You too, Z—zzz—Zaina! The pleas—zzz—ure is—zzz all mine!"

Gir shook his head, then turned to the glyph and said, "Gizmo, please finish collecting the samples."

The drone emitted a chirp and said, "Anything for you, Giramodo!"

Two small tubes extended from the front of the glyph, and light flashed from their tips. The drone spun around for a few seconds, orienting itself properly before hovering off, singing in a glyph language of whirs and beeps.

Silence again fell over the camp—Gir was staring into the fire. Zaina wondered what he was thinking.

An idea popped into her head, and she blurted it out. "Why don't we just drop the warhead into the pit from the ship?"

Gir chuckled. "That was my initial hope. Unfortunately—or rather fortunately, I should say, on account of your survival—either way, a glancing blow likely won't be enough to deter the Eldritch. Plus, if we miss or misjudge the chasm's shape, we risk not kick-starting the planetary regeneration," he said. "There's no room for error—we only get one shot at this."