Ch5-3: Into the Mountain
“Gotta hand it to the Daear,” O.M.E.G.A. quipped with one upraised eyebrow, “Their sense of interior decorating is original.”
His words had very little effect on his target. The girl – she called herself Joran – remained distant and self-absorbed. Her body language gave little sign as to whether she was trying to block him out due to discomfort (he wasn’t a pretty sight, afterall) or if she was simply dodging a volley of her own anxious thoughts.
She did seem the anxious type.
Kip’s back was pressed casually against the living green of the stone wall, his hands working conversation between them. Talk about the weather. Talk about the scenery. Talk about the huge, floating upside-down mountain they were holed up in.
Out of the Tower, into the Mountain.
The entire place was a Daear fortress, carved out of the hollow heart of an uprooted mountain. That much he had been able to dredge out of Joran.
The rest he could observe, sense for himself — how the entire structure seemed to run on some biological miracle-mechanism. The place was covered in groves of dark, snaky trees that looked to be half shrub, half vine. Their flat, groping leaves drew in the sunlight — sucked it straight down to the roots and into the stone, feeding the processes of the fortress with energy from the sun.
No machines. No magic. Simply plant life.
The Anti-Zot.
Kip suppressed a shudder.
“I do get my own room, yes?” he turned his single eye upon the girl. Wedging in. Prying open interaction.
All it took was one weak spot and her walls would fall. Then he’d be inside.
And she won’t even know it.
“I’m sure Pren will be here soon,” Joran answered. Not unfriendly, just distant.
“Is Pren the housekeeper?” he pretended dumb, hoping to amuse. Amusement weakened armor. Sometimes dissolved it completely.
“No, she’s the leader of the Daear.” Joran didn’t like Pren. It was written in her voice. As good as spoken.
“Seriously?” Kip’s face twisted in a look of mock surprise. Playing on ego while excavating for information. “And to think I had you pegged as the boss…”
“Me?” she gave him an embarrassed look. Ego-stroking wasn’t the way to go. “No, not me.”
Kip offered a friendly frown, “My mistake, then. You seem like a take-charge type.”
“Sometimes,” her voice hesitated.
She’s in over her head here.
His friendly smile widened. “But you do know the game plan?”
“For the most part,” she glanced at him sideways; his dark hair, plated face, eye patch and single green-ember eye. Her expression lacked any trace of trust.
He gave the conversation a gentle push in the right direction. “You gonna fill me in so we can get down to business?”
“I already told you.” Withdrawal.
“You were sent to wake me. That, I know. You want my help. That, I know. What I don’t know are the details – the situation I’m looking at. Not much I can do for you without the particulars. Logical enough, yes?”
“Yes…” Joran echoed. Scared. Little-girl scared. Clearly, she didn’t even know the situation she was looking at.
Exactly the type I want.
O.M.E.G.A. leaned forward, expression open and unassuming. His palms were planted safely on his knees, down where she could see them. His face lowered its level to meet hers.
The Lunarians were a small-built people, though unaware of how small until they came face to face with the Blue Planet dwellers. Kip knew. He had been Lunar once.
“I’m listening,” Kip encouraged her. His voice was pleasant, like having an after tea-time chat.
Joran’s green eyes slid to him again. He could see the equations rolling through her gaze. Dark and menacing features plus friendly and amiable disposition.
Doesn’t add up, does it, Sweets?
O.M.E.G.A. held his easy stance, the warm smile never faltering.
Most things don’t in this world. Just wait and see.
As Joran measured him in silence, he could feel her struggling. There was little trouble in finding the source of the turmoil.
Ah… there it is… The crack in the wall.
The girl’s face told the story of longing born of confusion. She wanted to find something to hold on to, something safe in which to confide.
Right here, Sweets. Look no further.
Kip beamed ever more brightly. As if he could bleach the invading darkness from his hair.
“It’s about the Crystal,” her words came with hesitation. As if she wasn’t sure she should be talking to him about it. As if she might be afraid that the edge of conversation might lead to the unveiling of something deeper.
“Yes,” Kip’s voice was soft in a throaty way. He had a good voice due to his profession. Everyone had always told him so. “The Crystal you showed me at the Tower. You said it was created by Golbez?”
It took everything in him not to hiss the name out.
“That’s right. Golbez has been developing this Incrytan – that’s what he called it – for about half a year now,” Joran nodded slowly.
“It must be pretty special then. For him to spend so much time on it?”
“I don’t know the full details… just that he claimed that it was supposed to eventually become a Key Crystal.” The girl gave O.M.E.G.A. a curious look. The first expression that wasn’t revulsion. “Does that have some sort of meaning?”
“Yes…” Kip responded, voice trailing off as his thoughts churned around him.
A Key Crystal. Golbez, you really are one slick bastard…
She leaned forward. “Tell me.”
“Well…” O.M.E.G.A. rubbed the palm of his hand over his chin. Fingertips brushed cold metal plates. “The Key Crystal was originally just a theory. Written by KluYa, you know?”
Joran took a hiss of breath in.
Kip read the sound instantly. “You knew KluYa?”
“Yes… in the Manor,” she answered.
The Manor.
One disorienting moment. It had been a long time since he had heard that repulsive name uttered. Kip shook it out of his system, recovering almost seamlessly. “So did I.”
“What?” the girl’s eyes flew to his face, searching it for a lie. “You knew KluYa?”
“Yes. And the Manor. I spent time there.” What he did during that time, he didn’t mention.
Instead, Kip raised his hand in a flowing gesture, the Greeting of the Manor. His fingers felt stiff. He was surprised that he still remembered it, something he had not done in so long.
This seemed enough to convince her. Joran’s face sparked to life, a sudden bridge being crossed in her mind. For here was someone that knew the Greeting. “You really came from the Manor!?”
“Yes,” his smile was warm for her. Congratulatory for himself.
Then her face questioned. “But…”
“What’s wrong?” Kip tilted his head in concern.
“You… don’t look like a Lunar.”
“I did once. Just, not anymore,” his voice lowered. As did his gaze. Fishing for sympathy. She felt like the sympathetic kind.
“What… happened?” Joran had grown slightly pale. As if she wasn’t sure that her questions were welcomed.
“Project O.M.E.G.A.”
“O.M.E.G.A.? Isn’t that what they call you?” she seemed confused.
“It became my name eventually. After the experiments took my original identity away from me,” he frowned slowly, feeling his own emotions tugged into the conversation. He pushed away from that train of thought. “But that’s a story for another time.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. And she was.
“No big deal,” Kip quipped softly. Gave her a smile.
She smiled back. It was alright. “If you’re sure?”
“Yeah, besides… we were talking about the Crystal.”
“That’s right!” Joran jolted back to the original train of thought. “So it was something designed by KluYa?”
“Originally, yes. I don’t think he ever got around to developing it, however,” O.M.E.G.A. pursed his lips.
“What is the Key Crystal supposed to do?” the girl shied away from the more obvious questions. Shied away from talking about KluYa.
She cared for him.
His eye glittered sharply, jade ice. “It is rumored to be able to tap into and control the energies of the other existing Crystals. The eight on the Blue Planet and eight on the Moon. I believe the idea was to create a Key of some sort that could override all other commands given to the Crystals.”
So that something like the Crystal War did not break out. Just a little too late now.
“Yes, but, isn’t that dangerous?” Thoughts were flickering in panic over Joran’s face. She knew something. Something that wasn’t good.
“It could be, if in the wrong hands,” Kip nodded. “I think that’s why KluYa decided to scrap the idea. Though I’m curious… what did Golbez have in mind when he decided to continue his father’s work on such a thing…”
“You’re not the first one to ask that,” her tone was suddenly cold.
“It’s a logical question?”
“I suppose… but…”
She had turned her face away, struggling with her own thoughts. He left her to her silence as he studied the way the light played off the black buttons on his coat.
Finally, feeling a sense of wasted time, Kip murmured, “You stole it from him. Why?”
Joran sucked on her bottom lip before answering. “Because he was consumed with it.”
Interesting.
“What do you mean?” Kip balanced the fascination in his voice, tipping it towards concern. “Consumed?”
“I don’t know. It was just like… Golbez kept himself locked up down in this little room in the library. He worked on this thing day in and day out. It was impossible to get his mind off it,” her brow wrinkled in slight pain. “It got to be that he would hardly even want to talk anymore. He used to teach me a little magic before he started making the Crystal.”
“So everything else went out the window?”
“Yeah,” her voice quavered. Jealousy of the Crystal.
So, Joran’s in love with Golbez…
“Why didn’t you just bust it up?” Kip leaned forward. Friendly relationship counselor.
“Sparrow said it would kill him,” Joran swallowed. “She said that his life energy is bound to the Crystal… it takes that much of a connection for someone, even Golbez, to create such a powerful item.”
“Sparrow?” he questioned. Things were getting thicker.
“She’s the one that helped me get here to the Blue Planet,” the girl told him. “She was the one that told me I had to…”
Kip’s gaze enveloped the girl. She looked like she was about to burst into tears despite the initial show of strength at the beginning of the conversation.
“She told you that you had to do what…?” he urged, placing a concerned hand on her shoulder.
The girl was so distraught within her thoughts, she didn’t think to pull back. She simply stood there, in a cast-off daze, fighting with the expression on her face.
Very, very close. Just a little more.
“Joran,” Kip murmured her name. It was the first time he had captured it with his voice… his power flowing gently through the sound. “You brought me here to help you, remember? I promised you that I would.”
Her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes were measuring him again. Looking to see if he was sturdy, if she should allow herself to lean.
“You can tell me…” Words as gentle as spring rain, laced with poison.
The emotion broke. Joran began to sob softly, gripping at the front of his coat.
“They told me to use Incrytan to absorb the Blue Planet Crystals! That if I did, Golbez would be free from the control that the Crystals have over him,” she repented with a choke.
Hedd-ynad…
“And I did! I did it! I destroyed the… the… W-water and the… Earth Crystals,” her face blanched in pain. “They didn’t t-tell me that p-people would… would… die! That cities… would… be d-destroyed! And now I can’t… I can’t stop it! If I d-don’t destroy the rest of the Crystals, then…”
“The Blue Planet will eventually be cast into its own annihilation from the imbalance of the remaining Crystals…” Kip finished for her, face distant. He knew all too well what that meant.
“Just like Runne,” Joran hiccupped softly, trying to pull herself together. “Just like Runne!”
Kip’s face was blank. She wrung her fingers against the flaps of his coat, unable to seek sympathy and unable to break away. One of his hands lifted, placed gently on the top of her head.
O.M.E.G.A…. don’t…
“Let me help you,” he heard himself say. Sudden self-revulsion swept through him.
…don’t… don’t start this ball rolling…
Joran peered slowly up at him. At the twilight-cast hair. The one cold eye, its partner misplaced under dark cloth. The plates bolted into his jaw. He didn’t know what she saw in his face… but her expression was one of gratitude.
…she doesn’t deserve this…
“Thank you…” She nodded her acceptance, honoring his name with an almost friendly tone, “Kip.”
O.M.E.G.A. … what have you begun…
And something within him died, just a little bit more.