Starfinder

THE FACE OF GOD

FROM THE WINDOW of Governor Rendor’s office, Skyhigh enjoyed an impressive, peaceful view of Calio. Now that night had fallen he could see the lights of the city blinking over the garden wall. The white buildings of the newer section glowed softly, standing like distant statues against the greenery. A row of ash trees blocked the older portions of the city from sight, a tactic Skyhigh knew was deliberate. The mansion was far too beautiful to be marred by the sight of poor folks.

Skyhigh moved away from the window, anxious for his meeting with Rendor. He’d been held in the mansion all day, kept from leaving or speaking to anyone beyond the servants. He’d even been given his own comfortable bedroom—a luxury for a Skyknight used to bunking with so many others. He’d been fed and given clean clothes, too, but to his great surprise he hadn’t been questioned about Fiona’s disappearance.

Finally, after Skyhigh had been entertaining himself as best he could and was on the verge of maddening boredom, the manservant named Jonathan had come to escort him to Rendor’s office.

“The Governor will be with you shortly,” Jonathan had assured him.

That was nearly an hour ago.

Near the full-length window sat Rendor’s enormous desk, turned out to face anyone coming into the room. Behind the desk sat a big chair of lime-colored leather. Knowing he shouldn’t, Skyhigh plopped down into the chair. With his hands gripping the big armrests, he surveyed the office like a king. All manner of books and bric-a-brac lined the wooden shelves. Tiny sundials, time pieces, and devices of dubious scientific value caught Skyhigh’s eye. On the desk sat an orrery, a small, moving model simulating the movement of the planets, each of them represented by silver balls. The toy fascinated Skyhigh. He flicked his finger at one of the balls, sending it spinning around the sun.

“Comfortable?” boomed a sudden voice.

Skyhigh looked up into the face of Governor Rendor, standing in the doorway.

“Yes,” he replied without a trace of embarrassment.

The air between them was charged with tension. Skyhigh rose from the chair to face his captor. He had seen the governor before, but only from a distance. Rendor was a notorious recluse, but he was also a genius, the father of the flying age. Skyhigh couldn’t help but admire him. Rendor was dressed impeccably in a black frock coat and trousers, the silver chain of a pocket watch drooped across his belly. A salt-and-pepper beard hid his unexpressive lips. When he spoke his voice was toneless.

“My granddaughter is gone,” he said.

Skyhigh stepped around the vast desk. “If you’re so worried about her, maybe you should have talked to me sooner.”

Rendor stalked into the chamber, toward a sideboard where his liquors were kept. “Please don’t be offended, Captain, but my time has been devoted to men of greater stature than your own.” He popped the top from a crystal decanter of brandy, pouring himself a glass. “The other governors have gone now, thank heavens. Now I can touch on this matter of my granddaughter. Would you like a drink, Captain?”

“No,” said Skyhigh. “Just some answers.”

“We all want answers, Captain,” said Rendor with a grin. “Life is full of mysteries.” Glass in hand, he walked over to a pair of chairs by the unlit hearth. Between the chairs was a small table of varnished wood, on top of which sat a cigar box. “For instance, I’m wondering why my granddaughter would run off with a cleaning boy.”

“Governor, I had nothing to do with Fiona’s leaving,” said Skyhigh.

Rendor sat down and sniffed at his brandy “I already know where Fiona’s gone, Captain. She and that boy Moth…” He looked up from his drink. “A friend of yours, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” declared Skyhigh. “He is.”

“That boy is a thief.” Rendor gestured to the vacant chair. “Sit.”

Skyhigh bristled at the order. “If you know where they are, why don’t you go after them?

“Because they’ve gone through the Reach.”

“Have they?”

“You know they have,” said Rendor. “But that’s not why I brought you here. Now…” Once again he motioned to the chair. “Will you please sit down?”

This time Skyhigh did as requested. He couldn’t help but feel intrigued. For two days he had puzzled over Leroux’s mystery gift. Now at last he might get some answers.

“Before you start questioning me,” he said, “you should know that I won’t betray the children. All I care about is helping them.”

Rendor suddenly laughed. “That girl! She paints me as quite a monster, doesn’t she? Go on, then—protect her from me, Captain. Keep your secrets. Whatever my granddaughter and the boy have told you is meaningless anyway. Neither of them have any idea what’s going on.”

The old man opened the mahogany box and chose a cigar. From the pocket of his waistcoat he produced an exquisite gold lighter, lit the cigar, and drew in a puff of sweet smelling smoke. His eyes closed with enjoyment; his brow wrinkled with thought.

“Have you seen the Avatar?” he asked.

Skyhigh nodded. “Yes,” he replied. “I’ve seen her. Why?”

“What do you think of her? The truth, Captain. What do you really think of her?”

“She’s marvelous,” Skyhigh admitted. “Is that why you brought the other governors here? To show them the Avatar?”

“Partially. But there was something else I wanted to show them as well. Something that once belonged to your friend Leroux.” Rendor held the cigar smoke in his mouth, tasting it. “Do you know to what I’m referring?”

“No, I don’t,” said Skyhigh, because he truly had no idea what Leroux’s gift had been. Now, it seemed, Moth had found it.

“The boy didn’t speak to you about it?” Rendor pressed.

Skyhigh didn’t blink. “No. Never.”

Rendor smiled. “I don’t believe you, Captain Coralin. Whatever you think of me, it will go better for both of them if you tell me what you know. It might make it easier to find them.”

“Find them?”

“Of course. The boy has taken something that belongs to me. Now I have to get it back.” Behind the veil of cigar smoke, Rendor’s eyes were searching. “Skyhigh,” he said, testing the name. “Maybe we’re not so different. Both of us dream of flying with the birds. Only I’m too old to pilot a dragonfly. It’s airships for me, but it’s not the same.”

For a moment the tension between them disappeared. Rendor actually looked sad.

“But you’ve been up there with the birds, the clouds,” said Skyhigh. “You know what it’s like. It can’t really be described.”

“Truly, the world’s a different place from up there,” agreed Rendor. “It is mankind’s birthright to fly. I’ve always believed that. I tell you, Captain, we are born to it, like the birds themselves. Why else would God put such a desire in the hearts of men? Children look up at the sky and they want wings. They want to touch the face of God.”

“Yes,” Skyhigh sighed. “That’s how it was for me. I was fifteen when I saw my first dragonfly at an exhibition. You used to run those, remember?”

Rendor’s face lit up. “There were always lots of children at those shows.”

“That’s the first time I ever saw you,” Skyhigh confessed. “I thought you were God then. Nothing else mattered to me after that. All I wanted to do was fly.”

“Major Hark says you’re his best pilot,” said Rendor. “Brash, he told me, but a natural talent. It takes a natural talent to control a dragonfly. Not everyone can master it.”

“I have,” said Skyhigh. “There aren’t many things I do well, but I can fly the hell out of a dragonfly.”

“Good,” Rendor observed. “Now you’re being honest with me. I think this will work.”

“What?” asked Skyhigh. “What will work?”

Rendor put down his cigar on the edge of the table, so that the ashes were just about to fall on the carpet. “Moth and my granddaughter have gone through the Reach. I wonder—have you any comprehension of what that means?”

“Not really. I know that it’s forbidden…”

“Forbidden, yes, and for good reason. By going through the Reach they risk the ire of the Skylords.”

Skyhigh held back a laugh. “The Skylords again? Governor, that fairy tale might frighten people back in Capital City, but not me.”

With a face like thunder, Rendor said, “I didn’t bring you here for your opinions, Captain. Your opinion of the Skylords is as dust to me.”

“Why did you bring me here?” snapped Skyhigh. “You kept me waiting for two days while you wined and dined your friends. And now you’re gushing on about flying while Moth and Fiona are in trouble. I would have thought you’d show a little more interest in your granddaughter, instead of complaining about what you say Moth stole from you.”

“And you claim to know nothing about what he stole! Do you expect me to believe that?”

“Governor, it doesn’t matter to me what you believe.” Skyhigh stood up, determined to leave. “All I care about is those kids, even if you don’t. Now, either charge me with a crime or let me get out of here.”

Rendor rose from his chair, picked up his cigar, and walked over to the window. “Captain, I need your help.”

“My help? You’re kidding, right?”

“We’re going after them,” said Rendor. “You, me, and the crew of the Avatar. We’re going through the Reach. We’re taking a scout ship, too. And the best pilot I can find.” The old man puffed on his cigar. “That’s you, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but…” Skyhigh groped for an explanation. “Why?”

“Captain, haven’t you been listening?” asked Rendor. He turned from the window with a frown. “To get back what’s mine.”