The engines of the huge sky ship vibrated the cold pane of glass that looked out on the world dropping rapidly away beneath it. The noise of those engines should have deafened him, but from inside there was only a low hum to accompany the vibration, and the brilliant cone of light visible beneath the angled tube just outside.
His view of the world expanded as they gained height, impossibly vast even as the boundary of what could be seen expanded and expanded again, until the dark void of the night sky appeared above the very rim of their world, speckled by the brilliant points of stars.
This was Yi Cao’s second time in the air. The first quick hop from the Hidden Heart Sect to Downfall Imperial City had been just as world changing, if on a smaller scale, but marred by the presence of the delegation of inner disciples who’d treated him like their servant. That came as no surprise, it was a part of the cover story he’d been told to follow for the mission, even if one that he hadn’t expected to be abused to the extent that Bojiang, in particular, had. He’d only had time to watch the compound of the Hidden Heart Sect shrink to the size of a toy while the valley and the wilderness beyond was laid out before him before the inner disciples began demanding that he see to their bags and find them something to drink while they settled in to watch the landscape flow away beneath them.
This time he watched in peace as his view of the world grew, while the world itself shrank behind him.
The valley had fallen away in a matter of minutes during his first flight, In an hour Yi Cao had traveled farther than he could ever have hoped to walk in a year, possibly even in a lifetime, while he went about finding somewhere to stash the cultivators personal effects, including a half dozen swords, sneaking glances out the wall length windows of the wilderness outside. It took him longer to figure out the mechanism for brewing tea, even after the steward who’d called their names from the sky-ship’s loading dock pointed it out to him.
The Sky ship made several stops for other guests who found seats among the scattered couches of the ship’s interior space and Yi Cao was forced to move the cultivator’s personals once or twice to accommodate. The next time he got a chance to press his face to the window and stare, the wilderness and badlands where he’d grown up were gone, replaced by the tilled fields and clotted cities of imperial civilization.
Downfall Imperial City had no horizon. It was the first detail that jumped out at Yi Cao as the Sky Ship circled low over the place, and the lasting impression he would have even after watching it shrink behind him on his departure offworld. The City was all smoke and red tiles, pagodas that crowded like limbless trees, and red banners whose sign of the Crimson Star immortal or the smaller sign of the imperial family fluttered in the draft kicked up sky ships moving around the city like massive birds.
Yi Cao’s role as a servant only grew more complicated when they disembarked to the city street. Pedestrians chased from the cobblestones by its descent watched them from the ground floor of nearby pagodas as he and the inner disciples filed off the ship to stare at the city they’d found themselves in. The gray clad ship’s attendant had to shout at them before they moved away from the ship, and Bojiang jerked a thumb towards a nearby sign advertising “Tea and seating” before the engines of the ship roared back to life, kicking up dust and trash as it climbed back into the air.
Pedestrians quickly returned to the street as it disappeared, and the cultivators moved into the tea house to find the advertised seats while Bojiang sent Yi Cao to find them some place to stay.
“Don’t get lost.” He told him. He didn’t look at Yi Cao as he gave his orders. Never did, in fact, except in quick glances to make sure he was being heard, as though to be seen talking to one of his juniors would sully his name. He fingered the hilt of his sword instead and watched the other cultivators perusing menus with lost looks in their eyes. “I know the masters have some other task for you. I don’t want to be held responsible for your disappearance before its done. The ship you’re to be on leaves in the morning. Find us a place to sleep and then a meal that won’t empty our purse.” He glanced contemptuously at the wizened little man smiling as he scuttled between cultivators pouring tea. “Then I’ll see fit to send you about your own plans as at the conclusion of our trip offworld.” His face contorted at the mention of the station, not with fear but something more like uncertainty crossed with disgust. “I believe we’ll be grateful to have you along once we get back.”
In Yi Cao’s own estimation he made a terrible servant. He’d taken hours to even identify that the pedestrians, coolies, and mule-cart drivers moving in the street between sky-ship landings were not interested in taking in guests as they might have been in a small wilderness village, let alone speaking to some boy from a rural sect new to the city. The inn he eventually found as the sun began to dipped behind a crimson sky cost more for a single night than he’d be paid as a Junior Disciple in four years, yet without Bojiang’s command Yi Cao would have been lost in that city. Condemned to sleeping in the trash caught between the pagodas and hunting rats or something. He could admit that in the privacy of his own mind as he watched the city, and the world, recede behind him.
The sky-ship passed some line in the sky as the edge of the world came into view and the rumble of the engines felt through the glass pressed to Yi Cao’s forehead fell away.
He could see the influence of the immortals from this height. Thin lines of color that must have been a hundred miles long radiated from a central pool the size of an inland sea, and along the Eastern Edge of the continent a perpetual storm rotated along the coast. He could see the remains of a battlefield along the northern treeline where green turned to the perpetual white of snow, a black stain of smoke stamped into the middle of that line, a line where Heart Demons from the inner world of the Black Blood Immortal Clashed with imperial servants of the Crimson Star in a bid to manifest their law, all while men in sky ships looked on from above, unaffected by the dramas of the people living down below.
Except for him.
He covered the battlefield with his thumb, covering half the tundra and imperial territory in the process, then sighed and let his thumb drop. The vibration of the engines changed as the ship turned, pulling the planet out of view while a voice in the ceiling announced that they would dock on station in a matter of moments.
“Welcome to Station Elleppu”
Station Elleppu greeted Yi Cao as it greeted every one of its other visitors; With ostentatious disregard.
Stars winked through massive wall length windows alongside brilliant white bulbs that hung like stars themselves from naked steel support beams that stood like tree and canopy beneath the glass. White tile reflected the light from the floor while potted plants, real, plants, lined the windows and stood in clusters around rows of seats where people in fantastical robes sat waiting for ships of their own.
Other passengers streamed in a current around the boy in rough brown robes and a string belt, leather bag over one shoulder, as he gawped at the sight. More sky-ships passed on silent streams of fire beyond the glass while more people moved through deeper corridors visible along the wide hall connecting this dock to the rest of the station proper.
The echo of their footsteps and distant voices filled the dock like low thunder.
“First time?”
Yi Cao jerked around to find a man in a crimson shirt watching him from just a few steps behind. Yi Cao nodded, then bowed when he saw the gold and blue of gems glittering from the man’s buttons and a pendant hung around his neck.
The man waved a hand with a frown as though to dispel the formality. “None of that.” He said. “We don’t know one another. No need to treat me like your grandfather.”
Yi Cao straightened and realized he didn’t know what to do without the formalities to fall back on. “This humble Junior Disciple is called Yi Cao.” He said.
The man in the crimson shirt grunted. “And this sample of masculine grace and strength is called Mu Chen.” He said. He flexed without really putting any effort into it and the sleeve of one arm tightened around more muscle than looked healthy. Mu Chen glanced down the hall as he relaxed. “A word of advice for your first visit.” He said and pointed to arcane symbols painted into the floor tiles. “Take the green arrow to an information kiosk before you go looking for anything else.”
As though responding to the attention, the green arrow flexed beneath the floor, or across it, and Yi Cao’s eyes tried popping out of his skull while his hair stood on end.
“Nobody wants to watch a kid wandering around the port for hours because he doesn’t know where he’s going.” Mu Chen smirked and leaned in a little closer to pull Yi Cao’s attention from the twisting ribbon on the floor. “And if you want my advice,” the man went on in a conspiratorial tone, “take some time to visit a den.” He gestured to a symbol in red that swayed seductively beside a smaller arrow pointing perpendicular to the twisting green arrow. The stranger put a hand on Yi Cao’s shoulder and gave what was probably meant as a friendly squeeze while almost breaking Yi Cao in half. “This place was built by the artificers.” Mu Chen said, straightening. “There are vices here you’ll never have a chance to satisfy again.”
The man slapped one meaty hand to Yi Cao’s bruised shoulder and Yi Cao attempted to bow once more. “Good luck.” Mu Chen said with a hard glare, then he was gone, pressing through the crowd while the stream of passengers from the ship they’d arrived on slowed to a just a handful of others staring at the stars just like him.
Yi Cao stood rooted to the spot for long seconds after the man was gone, then he shook his head and followed the green arrow to its eventual destination at an information kiosk.
Downfall Imperial City could have used and information kiosk. It took Yi Cao some time and a few tries to find one of the little booths. Captive spirits, or hidden cultivators, or just, people responded to queries through vents in the booth wall while symbols painted into a tile like those on the floor flexed to give instruction or information depending on the request. He had to double back twice when he overshot, looking for something like the vendor booths of the testing festival instead of the wall panel inscribed with a spiraling symbol in green. It took a man in the purple robes of some other sect stopping to jabber at the wall for Yi Cao to recognize it and a few seconds of hesitation before he asked the wall for directions to the Luggage Train.
He felt the weight of the key in his bag as he followed a yellow arrow to a set of massive stairs leading up three levels into the station, then an orange arrow once he’d gotten there and a green one again when he realized he’d forgotten the last two colors and needed new directions. The closer he got to his destination the heavier the key weighed on his mind, making the shoulder he’d slung the bag around ache as much as the one bruised by the stranger who’d pointed out the kiosks.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
At one point he found himself moving through a massive chamber decorated by the statue of some paragon of masculinity with tiny replica sky-ships doing circles around it while water rippled at its feet and stars shone in a narrow window just above his head. A passing thought said he should stop to appreciate the alien sight, the wonders of these artificers, but by the time he’d sorted it from the fog of adrenaline carrying him through the halls along the trail laid out for him by the information kiosks, the statue was gone, and he had another color he needed to follow.
Blue lines painted in the floor led to green again, the green accompanied this time by a symbol for something called Port Security which turned out to be another larger version of the information kiosk with a different symbol on its face and two statues posted like guards on either sides. They looked like statues, anyways, all abstract gray wires vaguely shaped into the human form leaning on long poles of polished steel. They tracked him, heads filled by a single glass eye that turned to follow him to the tile, and then away again while the rest of their bodies remained completely still.
He had to clear his throat when he looked up at the huge empty tile hanging from the wall.
“Baggage train?” He asked.
The symbol for port security flickered on the tile. “Follow the orange line.” A stilted voice told him, and a new orange light wrote itself onto the floor through a door that opened as it shot by.
“Have a nice day.”
Yi Cao bowed to the wall, then, uncertainly, to the two statues to either side. They still watched him as he left, unresponsive until someone else approached the tile and their heads snapped to regard the new arrival.
Beige tiles decorated the lobby of the Baggage Train, in so far is it was possible for beige to decorate anything. The tiles crawled up the walls and across the ceiling, spreading out on the floor to fill a space big as the minor common hall of the sect, yet empty of anything but those tiles and a handful of low powered lights which filled the room with as much shadow as it did light.
The orange line wrote itself across the beige tiles to a window set in one wall of the lobby. More white light streamed from the window illuminating rows of shelves behind a narrow desk on which some captive device spun within a cage while little ribbons fluttered its draft.
A person sat in front of the machine looking down at some kind of book. The man, it looked like a man, had a wire running from his naked scalp to more artifacts lined up on the desk. Instead of eyes he had two lenses like the statues outside, while he had metal, instead of skin, running from his lower jaw down the front of his neck to disappear beneath the loose fitting white shirt over his chest.
The man put his tile down and looked up as Yi Cao reached the counter. The metal lips quirked, like real flesh, in some facsimile of a smile.
“Can I help you?” He asked.
Yi Cao just stared at the metal lower lip.
The orange line beneath him blinked and twirled.
“I presume you know where you are?” The metal man asked him. “This is the Baggage Train. Was there something I could do for you?”
Yi Cao watched the metal of his lower jaw flex and curve. He found his hand touching his own lower jaw. “You’ve got…” He paused.
The man sighed and pushed his book off to one side. “You must be new here.” He said.
Yi Cao cleared his throat, ran his fingers down his own neck then dropped his hand and looked up at the man’s face, or what would have been his face, holed as it was by two circular lenses of glass. Something whirled deep within the eyes, like a creature burrowing into his brain, and Yi Cao held his breath to keep his gorge from rising.
“I’m a Cyborg.” The man behind the counter said.
Yi Cao tried to focus but found his eyes drawn to the wire where it connected to his scalp. Thick ceramic plates ran the length of the cable with a thick steel collar at the end, like a chain, hooking into his skull instead of just wrapped around his neck.
“A what?” Yi Cao asked faintly.
“A Cybrog.” The man replied again.
“Sai… borg.” Yi Cao repeated. Eyes fastened to the collar linking the cable to the man’s skull. He had no hair. Might even have no skull beneath the metal plate that hooked him to the desk. Already had no eyes.
“Cyborg.” The man said again. “Do I need to spell it out for you?” He sighed, a little harder this time. The noise was so human that it dragged Yi Cao back to the present. A present in which he had a key in his bag that seemed to weigh a thousand pounds, and a receipt he was supposed to give to the baggage train to get it.
“I have a receipt.” He said, and jerked the bag up onto the counter to dig through it.
The cyborg touched the tile he’d set down on his desk when Yi Cao arrived, then withdrew his hand and waited while Yi Cao dug through the bag. Eventually he found the slip of paper deep in the bottom of the bag and handed it over.
“Thank you.” The cyborg said.
It… he… the cyborg examined the receipt.
“Prepaid. Lot number ten four eighty two. One moment.” He set the receipt aside but didn’t move. A moment later one of the shelves along the back wall began to turn and a moment later a thin metal case with a handle at the top rotated into view.
The Cyborg turned and lifted it from the shelf. It checked a tag along one side then peeled it off and spun the case to offer it to Yi Cao.
“Your case, sir.” It said. “Feel free to check the contents to ensure no tampering has occurred. While the Train guarantees the safety of all bags in our care, luggage lost, left behind, or misplaced by the crew of the shuttles or interdex lines which find their way into our care may not always be as their owners left them, though, I take from what I can see of your, background, that this may not actually belong to you, even if you have the receipt.”
“I can’t open it.” Yi Cao replied. Too quickly. He looked up at the metal man and swallowed. “Locked.”
“Yes. A common precaution.” The cyborg replied. He raised an eyebrow over featureless glass eyes then pushed the case a little further towards Yi Cao. “If that will be all?” He asked.
Yi Cao lifted a hand then hesitated before he took the case. He stared up at the metal man then bowed awkwardly again.
“Thank you.” He said.
“Just doing my job.” The Cyborg replied. It… He… sat down again at and picked up the tile he’d been reading on, flicking some controls that brought one side to life with squiggly foreign text. He glanced back up when Yi Cao didn’t leave immediately, small rings whirling deep within his eyes. “Was there anything else?”
Yi Cao hesitated, then tapped at the top of his skull where the wire extended from the other man’s head. “You’re not… chained here. Are you?” He asked. “A slave?”
The cyborg’s lips quirked again in that half smile, metal flowing as liquid as flesh across his face. “I’m an employee.” He said. “This just helps me think.” He tapped the wire. “Three or four times the speed you do.” A series of green lights cascaded down the wire from his head before the whole thing went dark again.
The cyborg lifted his tile again. “Have a nice day.”
Yi Cao bowed, then hefted the metal case and left.
The hallway in front of the Port Security Office was emptier than the busy transit halls he’d followed to get there, potted plants in a few narrow windows the only occupants of the otherwise empty corridor, but it still muttered with the echo of distant footsteps. Yi Cao stopped as he stepped through the glass door of port security to stare out a window showing a few dozen stars trapped amidst the vast emptiness of a night sky.
He jerked as someone appeared at the end of the corridor leading towards the Port Security. He very deliberately turned toward the opposite end of the hall and kept himself to a low powerwalk as his whole body screamed at him to run. He felt his Ki bubble as he fought the urge to look behind him.
He turned blindly down the first intersecting corridor he came to.
The corridor narrowed as he dove down its throat. It twisted once or twice at hard right angles, the bright white lights hanging low overhead while more captive machines spun behind cages in the walls. Long dark tunnels hid behind those machines. The draft from their spinning arms made the sweat on Yi Cao’s neck cold while the constant hum of their mechanism made it difficult for him to hear if there were footsteps following him down the hall.
He clutched the case. Stopped to listen at a bend in the corridor. Strained to penetrate the low hum that resonated from white metal walls and long dark corridors behind spinning mechanisms. If he’d started the third ring of his foundation he could have pushed Ki into his ears and filtered through the noise echoing in his brain, instead he had to stand still and listen while his brain ran on without him.
He needed to find an information kiosk.
Something penetrated the roar of the white noise and Yi Cao turned and ran.
Ki lent him strength, just a little bit, just the little bit he’d opened over twelve years of cultivation without help or advancement resources from the sect. He hurtled past spinning machines that thumped and whirred, down corridors that threw back his footsteps like the pounding of his own heart. He skid on the slick steel plating and slammed into the walls at the bends. The metal case wrenched painfully against his wrist when it slammed into the walls, and the bag at his side thumped up and down against his leg as he ran. The bruise in his shoulder ached like someone grabbing him again.
The corridor came to an end and he hurtled out of it. He skid to a stop as he saw the small crowd of pedestrians moving sedately beneath a high ceiling of glass looking out at the planet. A few of them looked in his direction, but Yi Cao pulled himself behind a small stand of potted plants and wiped the sweat pouring down his face while he fought to slow his breathing.
He heard no footsteps here, none running, anyways. The footsteps of the passing travelers echoed from the roof like falling rain while an amplified voice spoke in a foreign language somewhere further down the hall.
The stars stared at him over the edge of the world, the planet itself at once vast beyond belief and infinitely small against the backdrop of other gleaming celestial bodies older than time itself.
No pursuers appeared.
After a couple of minutes of staring at the stars and waiting for his world to end, Yi Cao stepped gingerly from his hiding place and turned to face the corridor entrance. Wind pushed at him from the humming machines, deep shadows met his eyes further down its gullet, but nothing emerged.
He put a hand to his chest. It ached from his run.
Blue lines marked by the sigil for the residential sections of the station coiled across the floor of this part of the station, intersected here and there by greens marked for mercantile districts or yellow industrial sigils. He’d been shown the sigils by the first information Kiosk when he’d received instructions on navigating the station and he followed one of the green lines now past windows that showed sky ships laid out like skinned carcasses on the station outside, tiny humanoid shapes crawling over it like spiders with tiny blue sparks caught between their hands.
Something in him broke, mentally, as he passed the sight. That broken piece rattled numbly along as he followed the green line, green dividing into purple red and blue at the gate to a wide low ceilinged concourse where he stopped.
Stalls ran in a circle along the walls of the concourse, just like any other market Yi Cao had ever seen, but half the people he could hear bartering at the stalls spoke a language or languages he didn’t understand while those who did wore garb that would have made them look foreign in any village or city Yi Cao had ever seen. He saw children tied to their parents like pets and metal constructs the size of birds hovering above the crowd flashing with tiny lights. Fruits stacked in baskets in front of the vendors looked like nothing he’d ever seen, and the aromas from one of the cookshops smelled like something vile dipped in oil.
The broken piece in his brain buzzed and he tried to remember what he watched a woman with skin the color of slate sway beneath one of the red symbols the stranger told him he should visit before he left.
A flash of green drew his eye and the piece buzzing in his brain snapped violently back into place. A cold pair of eyes caught his own and a cold gust washed down Yi Cao’s spine before the man, boy, only a few years Yi Cao’s senior, smirked before the swaying girl reached down and took his chin with one dark finger, drawing his attention away.
Yi Cao jerked around and marched stiffly out of the concourse, back into he hall lined by windows and potted plants, mind whirling. Zihan wasn’t part of the plan. Was he?
He hid in another patch of potted plants to make sure he wasn’t being followed before picking up another green line and following it through corridors to his third information kiosk.
Yi Cao’s heart pounded an hour later as he approached the spot he’d been directed when he gave Elder Xia’s instructions to the kiosk. His head ached from the constant adrenaline and the weight of the case in his hand dragged at him like an anchor.
The green path he followed turned off a wide balcony overlooking some kind of staging area down a hallway lined with numbers in a script he recognized. Each number was affixed to a narrow door, each door equipped with a small lock. The Kiosk told him what he needed to do, and he fumbled at the controls for the number Xia told him to use.
He dropped the case and cursed quietly as he grabbed at it with shaking hands.
The door to the little numbered cubby swung open and Yi Cao knelt to set the case in front of him then reached for his bag.
“That looks heavy.” A voice said from the other end of the hall.
Lightning shot down Yi Cao’s spine as he jerked then whipped around.
The four over muscled men behind Mu Chen wore the same crimson shirt and orange skirt of the man at their head while Mu Chen’s smile lacked any of the warmth he’d shown at their first meeting. “Why don’t you let us carry that for you.” The gems on Mu Chen’s shirt lit with the glow of Ki and his eyes shone as blue light gathered in the palm of his hand. “Just for a little while.”
His teeth gleamed with unnatural light as he smiled.