• Chapter 1 - Burdens of Knowledge
• Chapter 2 - A Different World

Chapter 1 - Burdens of Knowledge

 James sighed. “Last time I steal anything legitimate,” he mumbled to himself, staring up at the grimy metal ceiling illuminated by an old mercury lamp outside the door. Last time I steal anything, if I can't get out of here. His accommodations: a small dingy prison cell deep inside a planet, far from what any normal person in the universe would call civilization. He rolled over, groaning. He wasn't sure which was doing more to keep him from sleeping, his overactive mind, his aching muscles, or the high-pitched hiss of a leaky steam pipe echoing through the hallway outside his cell.

The council of judges had said that he was lucky to be sent here, given that he had only stolen once. He had kept quiet after that. There were certain advantages to stealing things that were illegal to own—people tended not to report it, for one. He couldn't stop thinking about his capture though. A single ship, a scrap heap of a freighter, had disabled his engines Even the Guardians, so-called peacekeepers of the entire inner-world space, had failed to track him. A merc? But who would run bounties with a civilian transport? I wouldn't be caught dead in a hunk like that.

Instead he'd be found dead in a prison cell for getting cocky. He tried again to shut out the noise from the hall and quiet his thoughts enough to sleep.

He had almost succeeded when a voice roused him. “Boff want to fhee you.” He barely recognized the words, but he could place the thick accent. He opened his eyes enough to see a Yan through the metal bars, standing in the hallway on the other side of his door. Gorilla, he'd been nicknamed, and the title fit. The Yan were short and stocky, their oversized arms nearly touching the floor. In contrast, they had no hair on their bodies that he could tell—instead, their skin was extremely tough and leathery.

He sat up on his cot. He'd only been here a week, but he already knew about Gorilla and his boss. People sometimes didn't come back from his meetings. “And what does he want at this hour?”

“Dun ack. Juth come.” He could hear movement from the other side of his door. Must be impatient. He could understand. He probably wanted to sleep, too.

James stood, stretching muscles sore from holding a mining cutter all day. “Coming, then.” He opened the door to his room, stepping into the dimly lit hall.

At first he had been surprised at the lack of security on the cells, but after a day, he had no longer harbored any illusions of escape. The cells themselves were a half mile underground. What guards there were all carried automatic rifles. There were no civilian cities on the surface, and the only spaceport was guarded by several automated turrets. They had no need to contain the prisoners. The planet did that well enough on its own.

Gorilla stood there, waiting for him to come out, then turned and lumbered down the hallway. James followed, unwilling to strike up a conversation with the giant. He had a hard enough time understanding any Yan who bothered to attempt Terran; their own language was incomprehensible grunting to him.

When they turned to head into the mines, rather than down the hall to another block of cells, James grew uneasy. His eyes darted to the dark corners between the strung lights, half-expecting an ambush. Murder was infrequent down here, he'd been told, but injuries were fairly common, even outside of work. Gorilla showed no sign that he was unsure of his destination, though. The sound of machinery grew louder as they neared one of the current excavation sites.

They stopped at a small offshoot that branched out to his left. The main tunnel continued farther to the right. Gorilla turned to face him, pointing to the offshoot. James nodded and walked into the darkness, boots crunching on the loose gravel floor of the unrefined tunnel.

The sound of rushing water met his ears shortly before a dim light caught his eyes. He rounded a corner, entering a small cavern. At the bank of the underground river that cut through rock sat a man, leaning against an outcropping, his back to James. Roethe Marishonar; the only Aerendai prisoner in the entire mine and recognized leader of the prisoners, appeared not to notice James as he approached slowly.

James furrowed his brow. He could barely tell Roethe was alive. The few long strings of chalky white hair still clinging to his scalp did nothing to cover his dull gray head; his hunched shoulders moved only slightly as he took in breaths slowly. He was ancient, even by Aerendai standards—James had no idea exactly how old he was, although he had heard rumors from other prisoners that he had been one of the first prisoners to be sent to this mine, several decades ago.

“I haven't all night, you know,” Roethe's weak voice barely carried over the sound of river. He craned his neck to stare back at him, his yellow pupils boring into James, making him uncomfortable. He turned his eyes to avoid the piercing stare, moving closer to Roethe.

“Now listen,” Roethe started again once James had seated himself slightly to the side of him, “you probably know little about me, and what rumors aren't blatantly false hold so little truth to them that I'm not even going to bother refuting them.”

“Why bother calling me out here? You should be in your cell—“

“You humans listen too much with your mouth!” he spat out before his temper dissolved into a coughing fit that lasted several seconds. His breath was ragged by the time he recovered. Looking up at James, he continued. “The cells are bugged—mine is at least—and this is far too important to let those greedy bastards in on it. Not after all these years....”

“So why call me? I've been here two weeks. What can I possibly do—“

“You can be quiet and let me talk,” he interrupted James again. “You may not know me, but I know you, James Athron. I know why you're here, and I know why you should be dead right now. I'm not going to bother asking if you know about heartglass, because I already know you fence it. I even know that you've Delved, difficult as it is for a human to do it.” James clamped his mouth shut, biting back his objection to the accusations. He knew it was no use. James revised his opinion of Roethe: he wasn't just powerful, he was dangerous.

Roethe lowered his voice more. “For forty-seven years I've been trapped down here, a prisoner because I wouldn't tell them my secrets, a slave because of what I knew. They've wanted me for so long now that very few people even know why anymore... but you're going to walk right out with my knowledge, and they'll never have a clue...” he trailed off again, a smile playing across his lips.

James kept his words to himself, gazing around the cavern. He's completely crazy.

Grabbing onto James' wrist firmly, Roethe pulled a knife from a fold in his shirt. “I am not crazy.” His words were hard now, his eyes narrowed as they focused on James. “You know of heartglass, so I'll tell you my story. I was tried by the Guardians for espionage, all those years ago. They had no idea how close to the truth they were, but that wasn't enough to put me away. Their real motive was to get hold of my 'glass. Tried everything they could think of to break me, too. Didn't work, see. They didn't count on my resourcefulness. And so here it's been, all these years, right under their noses.

“I know it's what they want. They deal with espionage every day. But it's not often they get to work with important 'glass. Those silly trinkets you stole were nothing.”

James was intrigued, even as he eyed the slender knife in Roethe's gnarled hand. “And what do I have to do with this? Why trust me, if you know so much about me?”

Roethe laughed quietly, his chest heaving until he almost collapsed, coughing once more. “Trust? I don't trust anyone, least of all, you. But who else do I give it to? The guards? The other prisoners? Most of them would end up breaking the 'glass apart on someone's head. They can't even comprehend the value of good heartglass. You... you're at least something. Just maybe, you can get it out of here, back to my family....” He closed his eyes, finally releasing his grip on James. He watched Roethe. His family?

Aloud: “So where is it, then?”

Roethe smirked, tapping the point of the knife against his chest. “Inside. Fools tortured me for months trying to get me to talk. Never thought about a thorough scan before dropping me off in this forsaken place, though. Had it stuck in me over half a century ago... didn't want to lose it, yes? Couldn't lose it then.”

“So how do you plan on getting it out?”

He set the dagger on James' leg. “Shouldn't be too hard. Just cut around until you find it.”

James worked his jaw silently, eying the knife. Just cut around... he shuddered. “I really don't think I'm the one you're looking for.”

“I know you're not the one I'm looking for. The one I'm looking for apparently doesn't exist, or at least doesn't get caught.” He picked up the knife by the blade and slapped the hilt against James' hand, closing his fingers around the handle. “Just get it to my family. The 'glass will help you, if you know where to look.” With that, he pulled the knife forward, burying it in his chest. He gasped softly and slumped forward, releasing his grip on James' hand.

He let go of the knife, skittering back. Roethe fell to the side. James looked around frantically, avoiding the lifeless gaze of the man in front of him. His thoughts had scattered. He opened his mouth to call out to Gorilla, but stopped. Is he in on this? He did not want the brute angry at him—he'd seen firsthand what those oversized mitts could do to a person. Closing his mouth again, he glanced back at Roethe, and then to the river. No one would find him in there, and I wouldn't have to deal with it. He crawled back to the Aerendai corpse, grabbing on to the old man's boots. Standing, he pulled, moving him toward the riverbank. The scraping seemed overly loud as it echoed in the cavern.

At the edge of the water, James stopped again, contemplating. A piece of heartglass, here... would it be enough to buy my way out? He knew they were looking for it, now. Perhaps an exchange would work. By the end of the week he could be on the resort planet Amoris, listening to the waves crash against a beach, attempting to drown away his memories of this place with cheap alcohol.

Kneeling down beside Roethe, he pulled the knife free. Pale pink fluid oozed slowly from the wound, soaking into his white shirt. For a second, he envied the dead man, dressed in much finer garb than the standard prison issue he himself wore. James hooked the knife into the hole, slicing his shirt open to the waist.

With the knife pressed against Roethe's stomach, James hesitated again, his hand shaking. Grimacing, he sighed. The things I must do for freedom. He bit his lip and pressed down on the knife, making a deep incision. The sharp blade cut easily through the pale gray skin. He made two crosswise cuts and peeled back the skin with the knife. Having no idea of the physiology of an Aerendai, he could only assume that he was gazing at the digestive tract. Gritting his teeth, he slowly poked the knife around and through the organs, testing for something hard.

It only took a few seconds of prodding before he heard the knife scrape against something. Taking a deep breath, he reached his free hand into the body, feeling along the knife until his fingers caught the edge of a thick, cool object. Grasping it, he slowly worked it free.

The sight of it took his breath away. Slightly larger than the palm of his hand, the blue-green crystal glimmered from the faint lantern light. The size of this... it could buy this entire planet! He moved around the corpse to dunk the heartglass into the frigid water, washing it and his hands clean. He pulled it out and stared at it again, barely resisting the urge to Delve right then and there. Sadness and loss poured out from the piece of glass without him even probing it.

The sickly-sweet smell of blood reminded him of where he was. He looked over at Roethe. The man had kept this secret for half a century. He'd lost his life because of it. Was your family really that important, that you had to throw away your life for it? No fortune's worth that much. James was sure he could get his life back with this, and perhaps more. He tore a patch of clean cloth from Roethe's shirt and wrapped the glass in it, as much to protect himself from directly touching it as to prevent it from damage. Standing, he pocketed the piece of heartglass. He'd have to find someplace to hide it later. Carefully, he pushed the body into the river, grateful that it floated. The swift current carried it away from the shore and into the darkness.

Glancing at the knife, he considered throwing it into the river as well, but decided against it. Weapons of any sort were hard to come by in the mines, and this blade was extremely sharp. It could be useful later. He cleaned the blade in the water, then slipped it gently into his left boot, making sure the point was stuck in the sole. He regretted not checking for a sheath on Roethe; he'd have to come up with something later.

Walking back out to the main cavern, he found Gorilla, standing exactly where he'd left him. James tried to act nonchalant, but the expression on Gorilla's face made him drop the act. He knows. James kept quiet and proceeded back to his cell. Gorilla followed.

It wasn't until he'd reached his cell door that Gorilla spoke. “Dun let boss down,” was all he said as he shuffled past James, heading off to his own cell. James spared a glance to him before slipping into his cell and closing the door. He'd heard something in the big man's tone. Sadness? I didn't think he would care that much. He'd always thought the Yan were too simple to comprehend loss.

He pulled the knife from his boot, tossing it on the bed. The piece of glass he removed from his pocket before sitting down. Unwrapping it, he gazed intently at it. “What secrets were you hiding, old man?” He slowly ran his fingers across the heartglass. It was almost completely smooth, with none of the jagged broken edges most other pieces he'd come in contact with had. It had either been ground down, or it was a complete piece. Either seemed likely.

Emotions from the glass came at him in waves as he continued to touch it. While the pain and despair nearly overwhelmed everything else, he could barely detect hints of other emotions; curiosity, love, and a sense of power tickled at the back of his mind. He relaxed, taking two deep breaths and closing his eyes. Delving worked best if you were in a trance, but he couldn't risk losing all connection to his surroundings. “What secrets will you share?” he mumbled softly, projecting his mind into the stone. He Delved.