Spirits in the Material World

[Bjorn]

Pausing only to scoop up the supplies left on the ground, and to kick dirt over the last of the embers, Bjorn follows the colonel into the Starflare, nodding politely at the guards along the way.

[Brian]

Once the top of the stairs is reached, the ship shudders slightly, the walkway folding back up into the vessel.  From here, sterile white corridors go either left or right, towards the prow and stern respectively.  Westley doesn't hesitate, moving towards the front of the craft.

The guards relax, one of them following Westley, the other turning the other way, back towards the rear.  "I've some charts and maps in the officer's library.  They're not likely to cover this area, outside of Anabara, but perhaps you could help us fill in some blanks."

[Bjorn]

"We'll see what we can do," Bjorn replies pleasantly.  "So you said the purpose of your expedition was exploration?  You'll understand, I hope, if that strikes me as rather a bit strange; you've had contact with the Church, and they've spread this far, and you do rather seem to have a bit of a technology lead on them."

[Brian]

"Yes," Westley says, leading the way past a handful of crew dressed identically to the guards -- except, without the guns.  They salute sharply, as the colonel passes.  He salutes back.  "As it happens, however, the Church controls the Gates.  We can't get through to any advantageous pursuit without risking giving them our technology until we have a better understanding of them.

"And we've been striving for years and gotten no further than simple anabarists.  We don't even have the capability for healing that they instill all their higher ranks; it's lucky for us that Lucien could reason how to manifest ascorbics.  As it is, our realm is utterly unassailable to them.  Anabaric brisance projectors see to that.  But we're not able to move enough force through to make a meaningful claim.

"Until now, at least," he adds.  "The Starflare demonstrates that it's possible to pass through the Shroud, leaving one sphere and entering another -- exactly as his imperial majesty the King, long may he reign, proposed."  The crew in earshot all echo, 'Long may he reign!' with the colonel.  "Obviously, our navigation leaves something to be desired, but the potential is there.  Now the Church will have to bargain with us, and if they do not ... well ... war is a viable option."  He shrugs apologetically.  "You may not know much of them, if you live far from the Meridian, but from what I know, the Church is a terrible, oppressive force.

"So, yes, it is strange that we are exploring.  But we aren't exploring this territory, truly.  Just the possibility of travel to this point."

Then Westley stops before a door, and holds it open.  "Please," he says, gesturing into a well-lit room surrounded with bookshelves.  There's a high table in the center of the room, bolted in place, with chairs on short rails.  A glance at the bookshelves shows straps to keep the books from falling, presumably when the craft is in motion.  Two other doors lead out, but are currently closed.

The doors are of a highly polished, pale wood, and now that Bjorn pauses to take note, the ship apparently has some form of power for lighting.  Aside from the one they were using to search the grassland, anyway.

[Bjorn]

Bjorn makes his way over towards the table, eyes scanning the books as he goes.  "So what have you learned of the Gates to date, then, if you will pardon my scientific curiousity?"

[Brian]

"Well," Westley says, producing a quartet of glasses tumblers from a cabinet, along with the vaunted bottle of brandy.  It's a pretty big bottle, too ... but maybe it's just made of thick glass.  "Most of what we've learned is through cautious experimentation, but even then...."  He trails off as he pours the brandy, gesturing Bjorn and Din to be seated.

Once all four glasses are full, he continues, though he doesn't hand the drinks out yet.  "Each gate has two functions.  Progression, and regression.  Progression tends to elevate minds at the cost of bodies, and regression does the opposite.  This isn't always true, of course, but my understanding is limited; I'm told it's frightfully complex, and a good half of all who volunteer to become anabarists end up becoming sickly, or going mad.  So it's not something we're eager to experiment with ... but it is unfortunately necessary if we want to leave Anabara.  The Church undoubtedly knows more, but they don't share that information with us."  He shrugs, as two people stride through one of the other doors.

While Bjorn looks them over, Westley fetches another tumbler and fills it, too.  "I'm Captain Sibley Vega," the first says.  He's a short man, but a wide one -- broad shoulders, too much muscle, an eyepatch, a grizzled beard that fans out wildly from beneath his chin, and a very hard glare in the one gray eye showing.  "Pardon the intrusion, if you don't mind."  His uniform is identical to the guards, save where the colonel has a medal of rank, he's got a different insignia.  It looks like a thread-of-gold anchor with a pair of wings.  There's one on each shoulder, and the hat he wears could have been stolen from from the first Robotech anime -- Captain Glovel will undoubtedly want it back.  Equally gray hair protrudes from beneath the cap.  If it weren't for the salt-and-pepper aspects of the beard, the Captain might be able to stand in front of a gray wall and vanish.

Gesturing to the next man, a taller, thin gent in drab brown robes marked with a cloth-of-silver sash (no hat), "This is our chief anabarist, Hugo Gaerston."  The drab anabarist nods, his unruly mop of blond hair shining in the light from the ceiling.  "Please, have a seat."

Captain Vega goes to the head of the table and flips a switch on the arm of the chair, sliding it back.  After making himself comfortable, he flips the switch again.  Presumably, it's a lock to keep the chair from sliding around when it's not desirable.

After a salute, both Hugo and Westley take seats, on either side of the Captain.

Din looks to Bjorn for guidance.

[Bjorn]

"Captain," Bjorn greets the man with a polite nod of the head.  "Mr. Gaerston."  Following Vega's lead, Bjorn takes the seat at the foot of the table, and motions to Din to take the seat to his right.

[Brian]

Din fumbles with the switch for a minute, but seats himself comfortably.  The colonel parcels out the glasses, and the captain spends a moment studying his.

"Well," Captain Vega finally says.  "Here's to hoping that wherever we're at, we've come among friends.  For what it's worth, I'm gathering you're already no great friends of the Church, and that counts for a fair bit to me.  But what I really need to know, if you happen to know it yourselves, is where Anabara is from here."

Westley sniffs his glass and allows himself a smile, but doesn't drink yet.  The anabarist eyes his drink without touching it.  Din seems fascinated; he's never seen glass before.

[Bjorn]

Bjorn picks up the brandy and drains it off in a single go before stopping to think.  "Quite nice," he compliments the Colonel, before looking back at the Captain.  "Anabara is spinwise of here, though we're a bit Edgewards of the Meridian.  Perhaps about three weeks away, by foot," he says, parroting off the words of Natha's other-dad.  "How did you plan to return?  Directly overland, or were you going to try to travel through the shroud again?"

[Brian]

The liquor tastes decent for brandy, but not spectacular.  It's probably like ambrosia to people who've been dry for who-knows-how-long, though.

"This ship won't fit through a Gate," the Captain protests, before tossing his drink back just as quickly.  The colonel nurses his for a bit, obviously savoring it.  "Fine brandy, by the way," the captain adds, though this seems more aimed to placate Westley than from any real conviction.

Westley merely nods happily in response.

"But here we've got a problem.  We were supposed to be traveling with the shroud, and it seems we did.  But if we're here, in what I'm taking to be Meadowgreen, when we were trying to reach Highridge ... either we plum went the wrong way, or we done missed every sphere in the circuit until we got here -- almost all the way back to Anabara.

"We can't risk the Shroud, even though it's our only option.  Not until we've at least had a chance to restock."

"Even then," Hugo says with a rasping voice, "we cannot do without better navigation.  The journey -- spinwise -- would be much faster between two adjacent spheres, correct?"

"That is the theory," Westley agrees, setting his empty glass down.

"Aye, but if we missed every sphere ... and then, it was only blind luck that brought us here, nowhere near the Shroud."  Captain Vega shakes his head.  "We'll not be going anywhere away from this place until we can be confident of our course."

Din takes a cautious sip of his drink, before grimacing and setting the glass down.  "This water has fire in it," he coughs.

[Bjorn]

"It would probably be best if you left it be," Bjorn mutters quietly to Din.  "It is an experience you may not be ready for."

In a normal tone of voice, he says, "Well, then, Captain, I would say we have a bit to talk about, because I suspect I might be your best chance of bringing the Starflare back to Anabara."

[Brian]

"Oh, aye," the Captain says with a nod.  "I figured as much.  We'll be needing supplies, of course.  And...."  He pauses, squinting.  "You carry a spear, but are you an anabarist?  Is that why the Church is threatening you?"

[Bjorn]

"It's a bit more complicated than that," Bjorn replies with aplomb.  "The Church has set its sights on Din's people, though partly due to their own distate for those who don't heed their words, but in larger part because Din's people can talk to those spirits, if you will, that live in what you, in turn, call the shroud.

"I can't guarantee that I can easily get you back to Anabara, I'm afraid.  The spirits didn't seem entirely happy with your presence.  It might illuminate things if I explain that pulling you through here was a favour I did them, rather than the other way around.  Nonetheless, I'm confident that an understanding can be reached, and a much more pleasant journey arranged for."

[Brian]

The Captain runs one hand through his beard, and then produces a pipe from his pocket, while Westley tops off his glass with another round of brandy.  "So," he says, once his pipe has been packed, and he's had a chance to draw from it, "you know how to get through the Shroud, and the Church wants to stop you.  I think that makes a good deal of sense, then."  He glances at Hugo.  "You've something to say?"

The anabarist explosively bursts out, "You can speak with the Shroud?  It's truly intelligent?  Theories have been posited, but we've never managed to have an anabarist of our own sphere prove it!"

[Bjorn]

"Well," Bjorn says thoughtfully.  "I don't know for certain that the shroud itself is intelligent.  There are most certainly sentient beings that I can speak with who come from the shroud -- and beyond, in point of fact -- but I would not dare to speculate at this moment whether they are residents of the shroud, or manifestations of a greater intellect.  Perhaps a bit beyond the scope of the discussion at the moment, however.  I do suspect, though, that you'll find Dr. Nathan Shuker might have some more solid insights at this point."