The Lost

Chapter Seven: Quicksilver

Quicksilver sat before the datascreen in his laboratory, watching numbers scroll top to bottom in a blur. Once, he thought, he should have had sense from them. But now they made no sense, going so fast, telling of things he did not remember. This the Lanteans had taken from him.

Quicksilver lifted his hands to his eyes and rubbed them with his wrists.

“You are unwell?” his brother, Dust, asked, forever attentive to his mood.

“No,” he replied. “Just…” He could hardly find the words for the frustration he felt, that what should be so simple was rendered so difficult.

“It is hard, I know,” Dust said sympathetically. “But perhaps your memory will return in time. You remember nothing of Atlantis?”

Quicksilver shook his head. “Nothing.” Only a few tantalizing images, rooms, unfamiliar faces, as though seen through a sheen of water. “Tell me of Atlantis,” he said to Dust swiftly, and when his brother began to demur he pressed. “Tell me what you know. Perhaps it will help me remember.”

At that Dust nodded reluctantly and came to sit opposite him on the other bench, lifting the tails of his coat fastidiously so that they would not wrinkle. “We do not know so very much, so it is not a very good story.”

“Tell me anyway,” Quicksilver said.

Dust sighed and began. “They came some time ago — we do not know exactly how long — from a world of humans in another galaxy. They came to the City of the Lanteans and held it as by birthright under the control of a very great Queen, She Who Is A Strong Place. We do not know why she came, with her clevermen and blades. Perhaps she had the losing end of a struggle in her own place, or perhaps she desired greater dominion than she could wrest from the queens there. We do not know. But we do know that she was of full years and at the height of her powers, and that her blades and clevermen were skilled. And she was worthy of her name. When a rival hive of humans captured her own Consort, the one they call Guide, she watched him tortured in front of her and betrayed nothing. That is the act of a Queen, Quicksilver! Only a great Queen would have such courage and such dignity.”

Quicksilver swallowed. For some reason it left a hollow pit in his stomach, imagining the helpless man bound and gagged before the cameras. But perhaps it was only that he was a cleverman, and admiration for such dignity was the province of blades. They always said clevermen were soft.

Dust cleared his throat. “But the Asurans rose up, as they did to the detriment of many hives, and many of our lives were lost in fighting them, the enemies of all life, for they killed humans as they did us, and their ire was directed toward the Lanteans as toward us in equal measure. And they did kill She Who is A Strong Place, as they did so many of our queens, leaving the Lanteans queenless.” He paused to let the horror of that sink in. “As in so many of our hives, there was no heir at hand, for the Young Queen was untried and too young yet, and was also carrying her firstborn. So the Consort, Guide, sent back to their place and made an alliance with one of the mightiest Queens of Earth, one who is called She Who Carries Many Things. And She Who Carries Many Things came to the City of the Lanteans and there she confirmed Guide as her Consort.” Dust shrugged. “No doubt it was for form’s sake alone, as these things often are. We have heard that she has a Consort in her own place, an older blade named Trickster, as is to be expected. She Who Carries Many Things is a warrior Queen, and in little time had pressed the Asurans to the bone and destroyed them, to the glory of us all and to the rejoicing of every hive that is — for surely all of us, Wraith and Kine alike, would be dead if not.”

Quicksilver nodded, and for a moment he could almost imagine this Queen, the gleam of shiplight off pale hair over luminous eyes. “She is beautiful,” he said.

Dust looked at him quickly. “You saw her?”

“I don’t know,” Quicksilver said quietly. “Maybe? I just know she’s beautiful.”

“There are many clevermen who would worship such a Queen,” Dust said contemplatively.

“I don’t know,” Quicksilver said, but again he saw her turn toward him, her face sharp with disapproval, beautiful and forever out of reach. Yes, that must be what Dust meant.

“But She Who Carries Many Things had a greater realm and much to do in other places, so after the Asurans were defeated she went away, leaving in her stead one of her blades, called Hairy.” Dust snorted. “We think it is a joke, as he is an ugly man with little hair. And so Hairy and the Consort Guide rule over the Lanteans while the Young Queen grows.” He shrugged. “We do not know what assurance the Young Queen has given She Who Carries Many Things that she and her son should be let to live, but perhaps they are kin through their mothers, and She Who Carries Many Things is content to let her be her proxy. We do not know. But that is where things stand. It is this Consort, Guide, who is the power among the Lanteans, unless She Who Carries Many Things returns.”

Quicksilver nodded slowly. It was disturbing. All of it. Maybe they’d tortured him. Maybe this Queen had… Something. He could not get out of his mind that he knew her, that he had desired her fruitlessly. He could almost remember, the image was so strong… “Thank you,” he said to his brother. “I will try to remember. And when I do, I will tell you all I know.”