Chapter 27
TASK
AQUIDIUM
The Hopper journey is quick, and they’re spit out over the large blue mass of Aquidium almost as fast as Task can blink. Axel steers the Hopper towards the island in the center of the water-covered planet, mountainous and lush with foliage.
There’s a small landing port just to the south, and they shudder through the atmosphere, dropping lower and lower until they’ve pulled into the docking station. “Well, boys. We’ve made it.”
“Thanks, man,” Caelinus says, clapping him on the shoulder as he unbuckles himself from the bucket seat, sheathing his surge-saber.
A head pokes around the side of the Hopper, and Task stands to attention. “House Dormius?”
“Yes. Hello,” Task strides forward, pausing to see whether a handshake is customary on this planet. A dark-haired man stands before him, clothed in a green wetsuit, a pin on his chest. At least that, Task can understand. A Hand, like himself. “Thank you for receiving us on such short notice.”
The man nods once. “The governor is Below. I’ll take you to her. I’m Agnar Farax, Hand to the Governor.”
“Task Canmore,” Task replies, still unsure whether to shake this man’s hand.
He senses Voss, Caelinus, and Axel behind him, also taking in the strange man before them.
He almost glows, his eyes a deep yellow.
“Hand to the Governor of Nexarium. Colonel Walther and Guardian Castor,” he gestures to the men behind him.
“And the pilot of this fine ship, Axel Thorleye.”
Agnar bows his head. “Come.”
They follow him towards a waiting craft, the likes of which Task has only seen once, when he was here with Draven previously. They clamber in via the hatch on top, and Task is oddly relieved to see that the craft looks very similar to the inside of a Hopper.
They’ve left Axel with the Hopper, with strict instructions to be prepared to depart at a moment’s notice.
Task tries to keep himself calm as Agnar seals the craft door overhead, locking them into the small vessel.
He reasons this is exactly the same as being in space, just a different medium.
But for some reason, the idea of having forty thousand tons of water above them hits differently than having lightyears of galaxy surrounding them, and his heart seizes in his chest as they begin to dive.
He keeps his face stony.
The three of them sit across a wide, wooden desk.
Everything in the undersea colony of Aquidium feels aged, as if from another time entirely.
Task likes it more than the sterile, clean atmosphere of Nexarium, if he’s being honest. It feels like there is life here, that things have been loved and loved well.
He glances around the room, a fortress in the center of the palace.
He’s certain there is laser-proof metal shielding the outside, in addition to the four layers of biometric security, but it’s amazing what access traveling with the Hand can get you.
“Curious that Governor Dormius didn’t come himself,” the governor says, steepling her fingers as she looks at the three of them.
Task clears his throat. “Yes, well, he is terribly sorry. He recognizes this is unconventional. But this is an urgent matter, and we were closer to Aquidium than he was. I hope you’ll accept me in his stead.”
The governor nods once, fixing her eyes on Task. He feels as though she can see through him.
“Hmm,” she hums. “And what brings you here, exactly?”
Task spins a tale, not wanting to reveal everything to her.
He gets the sense that she’s calculating, perhaps has an ulterior motive, and he doesn’t want to play all his cards.
He tells her they’re dealing with a resurgence of a particularly mean strain of black magic on Nexarium and that the Grand Healer had uncovered information about the pagadium — that they’re hoping Aquidium might be willing to part with a jar of it.
He tells her nothing about the pandemic, about the ships traveling from Lumaria to Nexarium, though it’s possible she already knows.
“And you’d like me to just give you a jar of pagadium?” The governor looks incredulous.
“We’d pay,” Task says, quickly. “Gold or pink salt, whichever you’d prefer.”
The governor raises her eyebrows, moves her long blue hair over a shoulder so it cascades over her arm. “You’d be willing to exchange pink salt?”
Task feels a surge of hope. They brought pink salt with them, hoping this might entice the governor into a trade. He’d made sure before he grabbed it that there was still a jar left on board, but they’d have to make a detour for more, if this worked. “Yes.”
“The trouble is,” the governor starts, “your pink salt is nowhere near as valuable as my pagadium. And I’ve no need for your pink salt, really.”
Task is somewhat shocked. Pink salt is the most coveted mineral in the galaxy. He’s used to people giving up everything for even a small measure of it.
She smiles, a bit viciously. “You heard me.”
“Yes, governor,” Task nods, confirming. He looks to Caelinus and Voss, both sitting stunned.
“You see, when you’re as far removed as we are from the rest of the Consortium, when you have something like pagadium and a people like ours, you’ll find you don’t need such a mineral. So, no. I am not willing to make a trade.”
“Is there anything we can offer you?” Task asks, a wave of desperation rolling through him. He stays preternaturally still, in spite of it.
The Governor of Aquidium looks between the three of them, a smile growing on her face. As if she knows she has them. “An audience with Governor Dormius himself.”
Fuck. That’s not going to happen. Which means they will indeed be invoking Plan B.
“It would have been too easy if she’d just given us the pagadium,” Caelinus says a while later, when they’re situated in adjoining rooms in the palace beneath the sea.
He’d just enchanted the governor into showing them to the pagadium stores, and the residual effects of the power linger on his skin, making him almost glitter under the dim lights.
A drop of blood lingers under his nose, another side effect that none of the Nexarium healers have been able to figure out how to ameliorate.
“I didn’t think it would happen,” Task replies. “But at least we know where it is now.”
“Yes! Only 24,000 feet underwater. In the narrowest trench on Aquidium.” Voss almost laughs at the absurdity of it.
“Look, I recognize this is not easy,” Task says, “but I am confident we will figure out a way.”
This is a lie. He is not at all confident, only now realizing just how difficult this will actually be, even with a Time Warper and an Enchanter traveling with him.
They’ll have to ditch the men that guard their rooms, somehow commandeer a craft, ensure it has enough oxygen to get them to that depth, get through the guards that surround the Trench, and then actually extract a jar of pure pagadium, getting off planet before anyone notices it’s missing.
Even so, he assuredly lays out his plan.
He remembers from the last time he was here with Draven that there was a moment in the night when the guards swapped over, when he was able to sneak out to find some much-needed whiskey.
A dumb decision at the time, but an addiction he’d had a hard time curbing.
He thinks they can use that minute to their advantage, assuming timing still stands.
“We wait until later this evening, when most of Aquidium is asleep, when the guards are switching over. If memory serves, there should be exactly one minute and forty-two seconds where there is nobody outside of this room. We leave then. Caelinus, you enchant whoever you need to in order to get us to a craft. We make sure Axel is ready to go, up above. And then we execute.”
Voss groans. “There is so much room for error in that plan.”
Task shrugs. “I don’t see either of you coming up with a better one.”
“We’ve done riskier things,” Caelinus says, as if that settles the matter. He stands, walking towards a wooden door with a blue stained-glass window on the other side of the room. “I’m going to sleep. See you all in a bit.”
He moves across the room, still shining. “Can you dim that?” Voss calls after him. “You’ll get us all caught if you’re still glittering like that in a few hours.”
Task chuckles, thankful that his side effect is purely internal. Even if it’s excruciating, it’s not something others can see. Caelinus gives Voss the finger before shutting the door behind him, leaving the room darker than a moment ago.
Voss turns to Task, pointedly looking at him. “This is a very big risk.”
Task sighs, pushing both hands through his hair and dropping his head. “A little late to back out now, Walther.”
“I’m not backing out. I just…I want to understand, Task. Why are you risking undermining Draven? Breaking the quarantine? Getting caught? Inciting a full-scale diplomatic incident? You don’t even know if the pagadium will work.”
Task looks at his friend, who has been by his side since he was a boy. Who knows him better than anyone, but still doesn’t know everything.
“Talk to me, man,” Voss says, leaning forward in his seat and resting his forearms on his knees. His eyes are soft, his face full of empathy for Task, even now.
Task is silent, turning words over in his head. “It’s the right thing to do. To help them,” Task says.
“Since when do you care about doing the right thing?” Voss’ words are like a punch to the gut, but he’s right to ask.