The Contract Saga, BOOK 2: Story of a Name

CHAPTER TWO

When it hurts to move on, just remember the pain you felt hanging on.

Look up.

The stars shine.

Such beauty.

You learn to appreciate this kind of things after you go to a war.

Where the sky is usually obstructed by the dust.

I smile.

Some people, usually those who have visited the City of Candles, say that their lantern-made “sky” is even more beautifull than the normal one.

I think they’re wrong. Man made things cannot compare to things created by nature. It’s one of the basic Laws of the world.

A whistle sounds in the enclosed space.

For a moment I’m swept back to the moment everything started. But it’s just a moment. Nothing more. I learned far too many years ago not to let this kind of memories follow me. That’s the road to madness. A road I nearly walked on too many times to count.

In that moment a voice snapped me out of my thoughts: -Zachary, what are you looking at?-

It was Marta, one of the few survivors of the Music City.

-The stars my dear.-

She chuckled. It was a very strange sound. Something in between the clucking of a chicken and the purr of a cat. I know, it’s very difficult to imagine, but there’s really no other way to describe it. War took many things from every person it touched. From her she had taken her voice. Or, at least, part of it. For some unknown reason she could still sing as beautifully as she had before everything started. And when someone asked her how that was possible, she said she had made a deal with a devil and taken back part of her voice. She never told them what was the price for that part.

-You’re a bad liar Zachary.- she said. This time it was my time to chuckle.

-Not as bad as you my dear.-

We laughed.

Then she became serious again: -You had that look in your eyes. That far off look you have when memories come back. The bad kind.-

-That’s to be expected my dear. I’ve lived long enough to see the worst our kind has to offer.-

-Haven’t we all.-

My bitter smile was her only answer. She couldn’t have understood even if I told her the whole truth.

-Anyways, if you haven’t noticed, they have finished charging the cargo for the journey.-

-I noticed, but thanks anyways.-

I looked at the ship in front of me. The Worn Traveller. That’s how we called it. A hybrid capable of using both sails and steam to travel around our world and, if the need arose, even under.

“You’re looking at the most wanted ship of the entire planet” said a little voice in my head. I nodded in bitter agreament. We chose to live under a flag of our own, a flag that wasn’t accepted by the rest of the world and, for this reason, we were hunted around the whole world. Well, apart from the Underground. There we were welcomed as any other traveler. They know the reason why we’re the way we are. It’s the same reason those that live in that place forgotten by the light of the sun chose to live there, on their islands connected only by ships and a train that somehow could travel on railways that ran on water. Because they wanted to find a place to call home that, in a way, wasn’t part of this world.

-Why do you travel Zachary?- asked Marta.

I chuckled. It’s always the same question. Every time. It never changes. It almost seemed a routine. And I could never give her a real answer.

“Because the sea calls to me.”

“Because I cannot consider this place home as much as I would like to.”

“Because…”

“Because…”

Every time I gave her a different answer and, every time, I knew it was a lie.

In that moment something in me… changed. I couldn’t quite define it: it was a feeling akin to the “calm before the storm”. In that instant, deep down in some dark part of my mind, I knew this journey was going to be special. So I took a decision and said: -I don’t know.-

She looked at me and, for the first time since we started the conversation, smiled. A true smile.

-You finally decided to tell me the truth.-

-It seems so.-

-Well, considering how rare that is I expect it to snow.-

-The city is underground.-

-Exactly.-

We both laughed. Did she really think that me telling something true was a thing as impossible as snow underground. No, wait, I had the right “pun” for that one.

-Anyways, I actually once heard a person say that there was a place in the Underground where it actually snows. The temperature of the ceiling there is so low that it causes humidity to become snow in a matter of minutes, constantly covering the place in a sheen of white.-

She laughed and gave me a look of disbelief: -Are you serious?-

-Absolutely. They even decided to name the island Christmas. Yeah, I know, what fantasy.-

She laughed harder: -It’s never going to get boring with you here.-

-I know.-

I gave her a kiss on the cheek and, slowly, walked towards the ship, ready to board. Meanwhile she waved me goodbye, the smile still on her face.

“Mission accomplished” I told myself. Since we had started to make these journeys I had taken it upon myself to make her smile when I left. Up until now I had always succeded.

As I walked on the bridge many of the crewmembers and “inhabitants” saluted me. I waved them away with a small smile on my lips. They knew I disliked all those formalities.

“All the more reason to be formal then” told me once a friend when I said this to him. They always succeded in making me smile.

I walked the streets of the ship-city and, slowly but steadily, made my way towards the control room. The wooden roads under my feet slowly changed name until, in the end, I reached a double door made of steel-wood reinforced with iron.

Another small smile spread on my face. Even if we were hunted down all around the world we still had many allies outside our island. People who liked the place they lived in but also supported our idea. Most did it out of generosity. A smaller amount helped us because they thought they would be able to assist in the birth of something not too dissimilar from the Sky City. They wanted to be remembered when that day came. I disliked them, but I would never tell this in their face. Their help was substantial and let us build everything I was looking at.

For example, the steel-wood, a particular kind of wood that, as the name stated, was far more resilient than other kinds, was produced only from plants that grew in the Dark Kingdom. It’s strange how, even without the light of a star to shine on them, trees could still thrive and be a great nuisance to every single city there.

A memory surfaced in my mind. The memory of a trio of storytellers who traveled all around the world writing down every single folk story they could find to make the greatest collection of stories this world had ever seen. They had stayed in the City of Lights for four years. There seemed to be no end to the nightmares those dark forests could inspire in people.

How much time had passed since I had last saw them? I couldn’t remember. They were dead now, that I knew for sure.

Anyways: the scanner on top of the door examined my facial features, recognizing every single imperfection in it, from that little wrinkle near my right eye to the short scar that trailed from my left cheek to the back of my left ear. It wasn’t that much visible, only showing when I smiled too much or my skin tanned.

Then came the turn of the little strabismus of my eyes. Again, it wasn’t something that much noticeable. Really, only the machine did. It was simply perfect: anyone could try to copy my face but they couldn’t copy that detail of me, simply because it was unknown and unnoticeable.

In the end, the doors opened in front of me. It hadn’t taken more than five seconds, but to some it really seemed an eternity. I walked inside and started on the stairs in front of me. Twenty-five steps. I had counted them so many times and yet, in some sort of strange routine, my mind counted them again. Always starting with my right foot so that the last step could be taken using the left foot. My very personal good omen.

In the end I reached another set of double doors. These I had to push and, when I did, I entered inside the main control room.

Truly a work of art in woodwork and one of the most advanced places of this world, with technology that few countries could boast about.

My officers were all already sitting at their postations, diligently working to make sure everything was in order to begin the journey. I slowly walked towards the most important piece of equipment of the whole room. Everything here could simply explode but, if that was still standing in its place and working, everything could be saved: the helm.

It had an intricate natural motif that represented the roots of a tree and, set at regular intervals, were some kind of precious stones. Those weren’t there only for decorative purpose, obviously. They were actually used as some sort of button that let me create a connection with one of the main officers in the main areas of the ship.

As I entered the room everyone turned around and, depending from the place they came from, bowed or saluted. I waved them off with a smile and said: -Good morning officers. How is the situation?-

-Everything is in the norm Sir.- said Isaac. He manned the communications.

-Stop calling me Sir, Isaac.- I admonished him.

-Yes Sir.- he said, eliciting a laugh from everyone in the room.

I huffed and faked disbelief, then said: -You’re lucky we’re not in the army boy or right now you would be face down on the floor doing so many push ups that, in the end, not even the Twin Blacksmiths could give you back your arms.-

Another general laugh.

I walked towards the helm and pressed a Lapislazuli on it. It clicked under my finger and, nearly immediatly, from a speaker placed in the center of the helm, a voice came.

-Zachary.-

-Herdon, nice to hear you again. And nice to hear at least someone calling me by name and not by some stupid title.- I said while glaring at Isaac.

He shrugged and chuckled, turning back towards his consolle.

-Well, techically speaking, you are our captain Zachary.-

-Yeah yeah, I didn’t call you to lecture me on my titles. I know them too well. I wanted to know how’s the situation with the main boilers. Are the machines in pressure?-

-Everything is in check. The magmanium chambers are keeping the water boiling to the point that I had to make sure one of our jokers didn’t put some pasta in it to prepare his lunch.-

He openly laughed. He had a particular sense of humor but it always managed to bring a smile on the face of any person he was talking to. He was also the kind of person that, while being serious, still tried to find the positive aspect in every possible situation.

-Are you sure the magmanium isn’t overheating anything? I would like to avoid repeating the incident of the Hole.-

More or less three years ago one of the main boilers was damaged because of overuse and the too high temperatures the mineral kept it. Long story short, it exploded. Luckily it happened when everyone was outside the engine room and so there had been no victims, but the ship found itself without the possibility to move around.

And we were in the Calm.

It took our supporters from the island two weeks to find us.

-So- he started -First of all, it happened only once. And second, we didn’t know the magmanium could reach such heights of temperature. Now we know what we’re dealing with and take our precautions, so stop reminding me of our greatest failure.-

If I remember quite right, when he had witnessed what had happened, he said: “Well, at the very least the boys won’t have to sit around and do nothing”. That had been our greatest crisis but, luckily, in the end the only thing that was scathed was our honor of mariners.

And now I think it’s a good moment to explain what magmanium is, lest you throw theses pages in that crackling fire I hope is right there beside you. If not, I’m sorry for you. Fireplaces are simply the best. Anyways, magmanium is a relatively new mineral that was discovered purely by chance during the war. After the bombings of Berg’s coasts many sleeping volcanos had been, shall I say, woken up. And rather abruptly. To the point that one of those volcanos exploded so violently that, in the end, it collapsed on itself creating a brand new hole that, over the years, became a lake. The hole still has to fill completely. So, after the end of the war an exploration team was sent to try to understand how bad the situation was. In that group was a scientist which, for some unknown reason, had a diapason with him. If I didn’t know better I would say it looks like some sort of writing exploit, but alas, this ins’t the case.

Anyways: the diapason fell right on top of a slab of magmanium and resonated with it in such a away that, after a mere three minutes, the team was doing the “hot hot dance” while their footwear was nearly melting away from their feet.

It seems that the material is capable of replicating relatively indefinitely the sound wave which, by resonating inside it, rapidly increases its temperature.

You cannot even begin to imagine how much bribery it took to get the three slabs we had now.

-Ok, for now I’ll stop twisting the knife in the scar.-

-Thank you very much.-

I took my finger away from the lapis and positioned it on a topaz. A few seconds later a woman’s voice came from the speaker: -Zachary, good to hear you.-

-Same here Zara. How…-

I couldn’t even end my sentence. She answered: -The machinery is good to go. We won’t have black-outs or any sort of thing like that.-

-Good, good. Anything else?-

-No, not really. No, wait, people here are asking when we’re departing. They’re needy for the sea.-

In the background some voices could be heard and I could nearly see her colleagues flipping her the finger.

-It’s a matter of minutes.-

-Actually we’re all ready to go.- said Theo, the officer that controlled the various techincalities of the ship.

-Then start the machinery.-

-Immediatly Sir.-

I huffed and, from the other end, I could clearly her Zara chuckling.

I closed the line and, immediatly after, a lurch could be felt everywhere on the ship as the platform on which our wooden beauty resided when it wasn’t journeying the seas started to ascend, slowly but surely exiting its hiding place in our artificial canyon.

And, from the control room, I could see the stars better than ever. And the moons.

“Mera and Gala” my mind told me. Such strange names, but names nonethless. Traditions. And religion. It was said that our two satellites were the daughters of the goddess of endings, Death, and the god of memories, the Keeper.

I smiled as, finally, we reached the top of the rift. And the paraties that kept our ship locked came down, letting the waters of the Calm in.

-Madames and Monsiers- I said -All steam ahead!-

A cheer could be heard coming from everywhere on the ship as the thruster started to turn, first slowly, than faster, and we were propelled in the open waters.

And in that moment I felt the beginning of a little head-ache.

(what is happening. Those words. Madame, Monsier. They’re wrong. What language is that?)

Then it all disappeared.

What was the problem. Oh, wait, there was no problem at all. I patted my pocket and felt the keys of my house and heaved a sigh of relief. I hadn’t forgotten them this time.

____________

-What in the world happened there?- said the Writer.

-You made a little mistake.- said a voice from my left.

He turned around and faced the devil that was now comfortably sprawled on his sofa.

-What kind of mistake?-

-Well, in that world French doesn’t exist. They speak a completely different language. And so you created a little paradox which was used by the mind of the man there to try to remind him that the world he lives in isn’t as real as he thinks it is. But you resolved the problem rapidly and without harm so I don’t see any issue.-

-So, firstly, that world is as real as this one. It wasn’t up until the prologue of the book but now it is. And second, I don’t like the fact that he can remember things.-

-Well then don’t make this kind of mistake again. But, couldn’t you just erase the memories? The ink lets you do it.-

-I know, but it’s part of the contract with him. It’s a measure taken to protect him. His memories aren’t erased to make sure that I cannot change something for when the time comes for him to decide. They are just sealed away.-

-You humans really like to complicate your lifes.-

-Oh shut up. You’re one to talk.-

He just laughed and, finally, disappeared in a puff of sulfuric air.

The Writer shook his head. “Let’s not make the same mistake again, shall we?” he said to himself.