Chapter 24
The Warbler Finch
10th of Fourthmoon, Saintclair 12
Rodrigo Basin, Neveland
Although Root was pretty sure he died, there was no nonsense about thinking he was in either Heaven or Hell. No, he was still alive somehow, but it didn't seem like he was on the Junker Jorg. Barring that, he had no idea where he might be.
When he opened his eyes, he couldn't see much of anything. It was all one big light blur, not much of an improvement over the dark blur when his eyes were closed. It took some time for his eyes to focus, but when they did, there wasn't much to see. None of the usual pipes and wires running across the overhead. No light fixtures, or at least not any like anything he had ever seen before. The overhead was a single polished white panel and in the center was a pale blue rectangle that glowed faintly.
The bulkheads were molded seamlessly into the overhead. Not a rivet or bolt in sight. The bulkheads were similarly white and featureless and it was as Root was surveying his surroundings that he saw Azuki sitting by the door dressed in some sort of white tunic and pants.
"You are awake," Azuki said, only the voice was not Azuki's. Her Franca was more precise and unaccented. Also, Azuki was dead.
"Who are you?" Root asked weakly.
"I apologize if my appearance disturbs you," not-Azuki said, "but it was determined that you might respond better to a familiar face. Would you be more comfortable if I took another?"
"Yes."
"Very well then. One moment."
Not-Azuki closed her eyes and the features of her face began to shift. Not only her face, but her hair changed color and length, her skin turned a different shade, her entire body changed proportions. Her new form somewhat resembled a dancer Root knew back when he was stationed in Marsouk. Definitely nothing like Azuki.
"Is that better?" not-Azuki asked.
"Are you a skinchanger or somethin'?" Root asked in turn.
"That is not entirely accurate," not-Azuki replied, "but you may think of me as such if it is easier for you to understand."
That would have to do. There were too many other questions he wanted to ask to get hung up on precisely defining what not-Azuki was supposed to be.
"Where am I?"
"You are aboard the Imperial Research Ship Waldsängerfink-308 in an isolation room of the Medical Bay. You were recovered a short distance from our vessel and given medical treatment. Your injuries, both internal and external, have been fully healed."
Root held up the arm that should have been mangled beyond any use and there wasn't a mark to be found. He touched his ear where Faustman's bullet grazed him and it was whole again. It'd take too much time to check out all the other assorted injuries he'd collected over the course of the expedition and by this point he'd seen enough to take not-Azuki at her word.
"Who are you?" Root asked.
"My designation is Zeta Two-Five," not-Azuki replied. "I have been assigned to be your interface."
"My interface?"
"Perhaps 'interpreter' is the term you would understand better."
"What is this ship?" Root asked. "Where are you from?"
"As I have stated previously," Zeta replied, "this is the Imperial Research Ship Waldsängerfink-308. As for our point of origin, I am not permitted to answer that question at this time."
Zeta then went quiet and touched her temple. When she lowered her hand, she said, "Dr. Haider would like to speak with you. Are you feeling well enough to meet with him?"
Root tried sitting up. He felt a little dizzy and numb, but he figured he was well enough to see this Dr. Haider. He had a lot of questions he wanted answered and that wasn't going to happen lying around in this room.
Root was dressed in some sort of paper hospital gown. Zeta had an outfit identical to her own neatly folded and waiting for him under her seat. With a mix of mechanical efficiency and a light touch, Zeta disconnected the IV, catheter, electrodes, and other odds and ends attached to him and helped him change into his new outfit. He was a little unsteady on his feet, but he could manage.
"This way," Zeta said, guiding him to the door.
She led him through the passageways, which much as the room were unlike anything he had ever seen before. Everything looked too slick and precise, too much so to be the work of human hands or even the work of any machine he had ever seen. It was all so unreal, but he tried to keep his unease to himself. Everything that had happened so far seemed impossible, so why should anything surprise him?
Their destination was a door at the end of a nearby passageway. Inside was some sort of office with three men standing behind the desk, as if it were some sort of protective wall between them. They were wearing ornate dress uniforms, the likes of which would rival even those of the well-heeled favorites of the Queen's court.
The man in the center began to speak and as he spoke, Zeta interpreted for him, translating what he was saying into Franca for Root's benefit.
"Hello. I am Oberstleutnant Doktor Dawud Haider of the Imperial Army Science Corps, the expedition leader for this planetary survey." He gestured to his left and continued, "This is Kapitänleutnant Sir Istvan Kveiss, the captain of this ship." He then gestured to his right. "And this is Stabsleutnant zur Raum Doktor Lucio Marciano, the ship's Chief Medical Officer." He paused for a moment before asking, "Would you mind giving us your name?"
That was easy enough.
"Lieutenant Rutger Maartens of Her Majesty's Royal Army. Of Byrandia, that is."
Zeta translated his Franca into their language almost at the very instant the words came out of his mouth. Dr. Haider leaned forward over the desk and extended his hand, saying, "I trust in Byrandia you observe the custom of shaking hands upon making a new acquaintance."
Root shook Dr. Haider's hand, but neither Captain Kveiss nor Dr. Marciano seemed inclined to make a similar gesture. Root thought it best not to make an issue out of it.
"This may be difficult for you to accept," Dr. Haider said, "but I'm going to come right out and say it. We're not from your world."
"I'd have a more difficult time accepting it if you said you were," Root replied.
Dr. Haider smiled.
"I'm glad you're so understanding. It'll make things much quicker. I'm sure you have a lot of questions. We don't have the time to answer all of them, but you can ask a few to get them out of your system so we can move things along."
It was almost like being given three wishes by a genie. What should he ask?
"If you're not from this world, where are you from?"
"We're all from different worlds throughout the Empire," Dr. Haider replied. "I'm from Beta Iskander myself."
"How many worlds are there?"
"Our database has recorded two thousand five hundred and twenty-seven planets throughout the galaxy that are now or have at some point been inhabited by humanity. Of those, one thousand two hundred and five are currently under the control of the Empire and five hundred eighty-five are Lost Worlds scheduled to be surveyed and reclaimed."
"And we're just one of those..."
"Makes you feel very small, doesn't it, Lieutenant?"
Root didn't dwell on it. Instead, he asked his next question.
"What did you mean by survey and reclaim?"
"A few hundred years ago, there was a war that brought the Empire to its knees," Dr. Haider replied, closing his eyes in solemn remembrance. "Nearly half of the territory claimed by the Empire was lost. However, once our strength was restored, expeditions like this one were dispatched all over the galaxy to seek out the Lost Worlds, evaluate their habitability and, wherever possible, reassert the Emperor's claim."
"So you're here to take over?"
"No, Lieutenant," Dr. Haider replied, "we're just here to observe. The takeover comes later."
It was a little unnerving how matter-of-fact he said it, but there was no point getting hung up on it. Might as well continue his questions.
"What happened to you?" Root asked. "I mean, you crashed here, right?"
"Yes, we did," Dr. Haider said. "Our ship was hit by some debris while we were in orbit, forcing us to crash-land planetside. A rescue mission is en route, but until they arrive, we need your help."
"My help?" Root asked. "What can I do?"
"Am I correct in saying that, at this point, your nation is the only one still active in the area?"
Under normal circumstances, Root would be forbidden to discuss mission details, but given what these people were capable of, he didn't see any reason to hide the truth from them.
"Yes, that's right," he said. "We destroyed the Palatinians' ship. If there were any survivors, they're no threat."
Dr. Haider nodded.
"That leaves just your people then. This may sound strange to you, but there is something I need you to do for us. I need you to convince them to leave us alone."
Just the thought of Tofels' reaction was enough to tie Root's stomach in knots.
"That's gonna be a tall order," he said. "Our mission—"
"Is to investigate the crash site and salvage anything of value, yes?"
There really was no point in trying to hide anything from them, was there?
"Yeah," Root said, "that's right."
Dr. Haider gave Root a grim look as he told him, "I can't stress this enough, Lieutenant. If anything should happen to us or to this ship, there will be grave consequences for this world."
Root didn't quite know how to take that. It was ominous as all hell.
"Are you, are you threatening me?"
Dr. Haider shook his head.
"No, Lieutenant," he said, "I'm simply stating a matter of fact. We may wear uniforms, but we're all doctors and scientists for the most part. The Navy will be following us. This sector is under the purview of Admiral Globus. He's rather... temperamental. He takes a dim view to any insult to the dignity of the Empire and he has burned worlds before."
"Burned... worlds?"
"Please don't doubt that we have the capacity. The Emperor would prefer to bring all the Lost Worlds back into the fold peacefully, but he has given the admirals free rein to deal with them as they see fit. If a particular world proves to be too troublesome, they will simply burn it and restart colonization from zero."
Accepting the premise that these people were from another world and that their technology was far beyond anything on Miravel, the prospect of them burning worlds didn't seem too implausible. Still, what were his chances of convincing Tofels of that and even if he did, would that be enough to stop him? Root wasn't so sure.
"You don't understand the situation we're in," he said. "We—"
Dr. Haider cut him off.
"Whatever it is, it can't be worse that the extinction of all life on the planet."
"How do I know you're not bluffing?" Root asked, though it felt like a stupid question.
Dr. Haider's face said anything but.
"Do I look like I'm bluffing, Lieutenant?"
"No," Root replied.
In truth, he never really doubted the threat was genuine, but he took a gamble anyway just in case there were any cracks in Dr. Haider's story. Unfortunately, it was as seamless as everything else around him.
"Dr. Marciano will check you over once more," Dr. Haider said. "If he clears you for release and you're feeling up to it, we'll return you to your people. Do whatever it takes to convince them to abort your mission. The fate of your world literally depends on it."
Root sighed.
"I guess we really don't have any time to lose."
Dr. Haider gave a slight smile and bobbed his head obligingly, saying, "I appreciate your cooperation, Lieutenant."
"One more thing," Root added.
"Yes, Lieutenant?"
"There was someone else with me, a woman. What happened to her?"
Dr. Haider shook his head.
"I'm sorry, Lieutenant, but her injuries were too extensive even for our technology to save her."
Even if it was only for a moment, Root entertained the idea that even death as he knew it wasn't an impediment to them, but they weren't gods, after all. As amazing as their technology was, it had its limits. Azuki was truly gone.
"She was a friend," Root said. "I'd be obliged to you if you took care of her. Show her all due respect."
"Of course, Lieutenant," Dr. Haider replied. "It's the least we can do."