“They doubt you, Knower! They were openly saying so!” The Cortican skittered side of side nervously.
“Look, they can do that if they want. That’s their choice. I’m not making anyone believe anything.” Michael shook his head. He had spent all his time since leaving Earth denying the messiah title thrust upon him, except when it had benefited him. It had seemed a good idea at the time, using the claim he was the Knower as a way of convincing people to leave Cortica as it burned. Instead, he had simply made his life worse, at least the people who didn’t believe in him treated him somewhat normally. Michael had given up trying to deny it, paradoxically it only made his followers believe him more.
“That’s because he’s just some guy. I don’t even know what species this is!” The reptilian alien pointed a claw at Michael.
“That said, if you want to cause trouble you’re welcome to leave. Your own ship is still in the flotilla, right?”
“Well, I suppose…”
“But you don’t want to do that, because it’s more comfortable on the Sword.” Michael hated giving speeches, despite his previous life as a tour guide. That never felt like public speaking, not really, it was just reading facts off a sheet. Facts Michael could deal with, and he knew his statement was irrefutable. The refuge ships were a mixture of cargo transports, military patrol vessels and ill-equipped pleasure craft. The Sword of Truth, to give the ship its full name, was designed to carry people fleeing from their world into the stars, it was built for this very thing. It had a proper kitchen and mess hall, washrooms, even a laundrette. The entire ship still hadn’t been explored, and more amenities were being discovered every day.
“Hah! Look how benevolent the Knower is! You cling at his mercy.”
Michael spun around. “That works both ways. I won’t have anyone causing trouble on the Sword, no matter who they are.”
“Twenty minutes, Michael,” Clive said. He was trying to be subtle, something impossible for a large glowing head.
“Meggok, you have things in hand here?”
“Oh yes,” the chef said, muscles bulging as he crossed his arms. The knife glinted under the light. Everything on the Sword seemed to shimmer, the ancient Merydians covering every possible surface with an odd pearlescent metal. “Plenty of volunteers to help clean up.”
Michael hopped off the cart, the wheeled machine trundling off down the corridor as he did. They littered the hallways, allowing easier transit across the enormous ship. Walking from the mess to the bridge would have taken a good thirty minutes or more.
Michael stepped through the doorway, into the bridge itself. The rounded chamber was large, designed for a much bigger crew than the handful it currently had. Mellok, the Cortican who had abducted Michael was where he usually was, sat at one of the stations that ran along the outer edge of the bridge, his beak stuck into some ancient Merydian text or news article.
“Michael, good timing. We’re about to finally drop out of jump space.” Aileena smiled as she spoke. The last few months had been rough on the mercenary, finding the crowds that now roamed the halls annoying. She was a tall woman, athletically built from her years of training. She looked almost human-like, aside from the pale green skin and the six eyes. She had two regular-sized ones, then two much smaller sets on each side of those. Michael hardly noticed them anymore.
“Finally! God, it feels like it’s been much longer than three months.” Michael followed her across the bridge. The other members of the crew waved at him as he passed. Brekt, Aileena’s mercenary colleague and fellow species member was sat at his usual console, near the front of the bridge.
Near him examining a diagram on a screen was Kestok, Meggok’s husband. Michael had trouble telling them apart sometimes, they were the same species and looked extremely alike. The easiest way of telling had become the way they were dressed, Kestok, like his husband, had been a gladiator when Michael had met him. Before his capture though, he had been a promising engineer, and had slipped into that role aboard the Sword. Grease-stained overalls or dirty apron, it was the quickest way to tell them apart.
Stood next to the engineer was his constant shadow, Skorra. The Merydian girl had happily come with them into space. She had technically been exiled, the Merydians had been angry at Michael and his friends, despite them saving their world. They didn’t understand what they had done and had taken it out on the young girl who had helped them. Still, Skorra didn’t seem to mind, and Michael thought exile or not she would have found some way to get aboard. Skorra had spent most of her life studying the Sword, trying to get the ship to work, and now wrangled her way into being Kestok’s apprentice, more or less. He seemed to enjoy the girl’s company, so it worked out.
“We’ve got about five minutes sixteen seconds before we exit the jump,” Kestok said. Michael knew he hadn’t been that specific on the timings. Communication between the crew was being facilitated by Mellok, the Cortican having the ability to psychically translate languages. Kestok had given a time measurement in his language, and the translation had adjusted it accordingly.
“Good, we can finally get our ship back to ourselves, send the rest of these people home.”
“Are they going to want to go home? Your little followers might kick up a stink,” Aileena said. She, like the rest of the crew, had been badgered constantly. Some people had even begun referring to them as ‘disciples of the Knower’. Mellok was the only one who didn’t seem to mind, being a true believer himself.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” Michael cringed as he said it. Idioms didn’t always translate very well, and he had been trying not to use them. “It’ll be good just to be able to look out the window again.”
Aileena nodded in response. She knew Michael wasn’t being literal, the Sword didn’t have windows, but the strange effects of jump space made it dangerous to look at. They couldn’t even switch on the view screens for the external cameras, and it was strange how claustrophobic it made things.
“Get ready to exit,” Kestok said.
“The other ships are reporting ready,” Brekt added.
“Good,” Michael said. It had been a long time. They had set the Swords unique dual drive to plough a tunnel through jump space as far as it could, but the further you travelled the more time it took. Jump space still made little sense to Michael. “Let’s see where we are.”
The object hung in the air, projected by holographic emitters mounted throughout the bridge. The Sword had come bursting into real space, the flotilla following behind it. The ships had all come to an abrupt halt, unsure at what lay before them.
It looked like a planet, or at least, the top of it did, but it wasn’t a sphere. The object was a massive disc, continents and oceans laid out around it. On its rim was a wall of white, what looked like ice stretched around to contain the oceans. Beneath the disk dark metals spires trailed off, machinery attached to the world above. A glowing orb was moving slowly over the surface, illuminating the mountains and forests beneath.
“I’m… at a loss,” Mellok said. “Have you ever seen such a wonder?”
“Only in some online discussions. I know some guys on the internet who would be really happy right now. They were dead convinced the Earth was flat like this,” Michael said. He walked around the hologram, taking in the image.
“That’s stupid.” Aileena was doing the same as Michael, the two orbiting the flat planet like satellites. “Ignoring everything else, wouldn’t aliens arriving ruin their theory?”