– – – – – – – – – –

  Epos (Maltia)

  28 October 2355

  Ethan’s 7th day on Tersain

  – – – – – – – – – –

  I wasn’t expecting it. Or rather, it was likely I’d see Dawn again, but I didn’t think it would be this soon. I haven’t yet had the chance to assess the implications of my new status aboard the Epos, and what it will mean for my relationships with the others… and now, the girl appears out of the blue, just like that time when I found her in front of my cell.

  What’s more, right as I was talking about her with Archeos. Did she hear me? How am I supposed to act?

  “I was behind the mirror this time as well.”

  Unconcerned by my confusion, the girl informs me of this with a smile.

  “Together with Antony and Samuel,” she adds. “I’m glad it went well.”

  “Oh…” I say, feeling a bit embarrassed. “But maybe it would’ve been better if I really were a spy… I could have given you some useful information…”

  Am I an idiot?!

  Right, my brain isn’t working properly; my awkwardness in social situations seems even worse than usual. What bizarre logic made me come out with something like that?

  Fine, I want to be helpful—but not like this!

  For her part, the girl gives me a puzzled look… before laughing and exclaiming:

  “What are you on about, you silly? Of course it’s better this way. We’ll find the information elsewhere.”

  The hint of suspicion she had towards me seems to have vanished. She appears to trust the conclusions reached by the captain and Archeos without question.

  “At this point, it seems unlikely that the attack on Cyrus’s island was due to espionage,” the philosopher remarks, unfazed by my blunder. “Rather, the main suspicion is that the army followed Antony and Samuel’s velivus there. They had just taken part in a battle in the Carbon Archipelago…”

  “Battle?” I repeat, suddenly snapping to attention. “A military operation?”

  “What did you think—that we and the Republic were just playing tricks on each other?” the man retorts. “It’s like a war, Ethan. Clashes aren’t uncommon.”

  I hadn’t quite grasped it before. Perhaps because a part of me still doesn’t want to accept that I’m in the midst of an actual conflict; the kind that, on television, always seems to belong to faraway places, with no real impact on your everyday life.

  Faced with this sudden prospect, I feel my embarrassment recede into the background.

  “They’re mostly raids, like the one in the Carbon Archipelago,” Archeos is explaining. “We were trying to get fuel from republican mines. Unfortunately, the information was incorrect, or perhaps there was a tip-off; in the end, our comrades were met by a fleet from the Aeronautic Army.”

  The philosopher glances at Dawn.

  “Let’s stop talking about it, eh?” he says.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” she reassures with a smile.

  I don’t consider myself a particularly sensitive person, but I can’t help but notice that the expression on her face doesn’t match the serenity she’s trying to project. She’s still suffering because of her father’s capture.

  With that awareness settling in me, a thought brushes against my mind:

  I wonder if I could somehow help to find him…

  – – – – – – – – – –

  Amathia (Maltia)

  Same day

  – – – – – – – – – –

  The sky beyond the bars is a crystal-clear blue. Cyrus Sanders doesn’t know whether to find comfort in it or to suffer for not being able to go out and gaze at it properly. In the cell where he is confined, the small window he’s looking at is his only opening to the outside world—and yet, it is impassable to him.

  He arrived in Amathia a day ago. The prison where he’s being held is located near the capital of Maltia: this is where the majority of the Republic’s most significant opponents are locked away.

  Should he feel honoured by that?

  I wonder when they’ll come to interrogate me, he thinks. Strange that they’re taking so long. I would’ve sworn they were eager to extract every possible piece of information from me.

  Perhaps they’re waiting for the first few days of imprisonment to test his spirit. As if something like that could make him betray his allies. Moreover, among the so-called rebels are his own children—do the Republicans truly believe he would say anything that might put them at risk?

  They’ll end up resorting to torture.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  The Republic likes to call itself a beacon of civilisation, but Cyrus knows it can make use of methods that hardly suit such an image.

  Let them try—it won’t be of much use against a dead man.

  His hand moves involuntarily to his chest, near his heart. It wouldn’t take much for him to seal his mouth—and with it, all the information the Republic desires.

  – – – – – – – – – –

  Epos (Maltia)

  4 November 2355

  Ethan’s 14th day on Tersain

  – – – – – – – – – –

  And so my life on the Epos began. Although the military and strategic areas are still off-limits to me, I’ve been granted complete freedom throughout the rest of the vessel. I’m still a kind of prisoner, but that’s fine by me: not having to endure the discomforts of the cell anymore is more than enough for me.

  I’ve discovered that the Epos, in addition to being the largest vessel of the Resistance, is also an important multifunctional operations centre. Inside, they don’t just work on plans to counter the Republic—there are also numerous laboratories engaged in complex projects. As Archeos said, scientific research is of vital importance to the rebels.

  Aimond Lacelet himself has assigned me to work with many of the philosophers and artificers on board, with whom I must try to find innovative ways to solve the technological issues of the Resistance. It’s a daunting task—mainly because I see myself as very inadequate for it. We’re far beyond what I learned at school, so I have to wrack my brains along with everyone else to reconstruct Earth’s technologies, or at least to give the experts aboard the Epos enough clues to work out which direction to go in.

  In its own way, though, it’s satisfying. I’m filled with a strange sense of usefulness, and the people on the ship make me feel at ease. I suppose few of them know I’m under supervision, or that I’ve claimed to come from another world, and that’s probably why they treat me like one of their own. In some cases, they even show genuine respect for what I know, overlooking my accent and the inevitable gaps in my knowledge about Tersain.

  Little by little, we’ve started to see the first signs of progress in the studies carried out with me. For my part, I’m getting an increasingly clear idea of the technology used on Tersain. Essentially, it seems to be at the same level as that of Earth, only that the peculiar history experienced by this world has led to a greater development of certain fields at the expense of others. Aeronautics, and the use of steam and coal, are among the most advanced technologies, and the same goes for mechanics. Electronics and telecommunications, on the other hand, are still at a very rudimentary stage, and computing is practically non-existent. I doubt I’ll ever see anything resembling a computer here.

  All of this has happened in the first week since my restrictions were eased. I thought it would go on like this for a long time, eventually becoming routine. I might not even mind that.

  However, things are about to change.

  ???

  Antony and Samuel enter Martin Young’s room. He is waiting for them at his desk, where the metal case they recovered from their father’s home a few days earlier is lying. There is also a second person present: Archeos, the most esteemed natural philosopher aboard the Epos, is sitting with the rebel leader.

  “Welcome,” Martin Young greets them.

  “Captain, why the urgency?” Samuel asks. “Is there news of our father?”

  “Unfortunately not,” the man replies, shaking his head. “It’s something else: we’ve almost deciphered the map.”

  The two young men fall silent for a few moments.

  “I thought it would take months,” Antony says, surprised.

  “So did we,” Martin Young nods. “But the method we were using was flawed. We discovered that, the way we were trying to decipher it, we’d eventually hit a dead end. However, we noticed something: it requires a key to access its contents.”

  “A key?” Antony repeats. “Like… a code?”

  “Something like that. We absolutely need to obtain that key, or we won’t get anywhere. That’s why I’m assigning you a new recovery mission.”

  “When do we have to leave?” Samuel asks.

  “Tomorrow. But it won’t just be the two of you. I want Dawn to accompany you.”

  “Dawn?” Antony exclaims. “But… are you sure? She has no experience…”

  “This is the right opportunity for her to gain some,” says the captain. “Besides, she’s been involved in this matter ever since your father took custody of the map. I believe she’ll be suited to the task. And there’s someone else who will have to come along.”

  “Who?”

  “Ethan Knight.”

  “What!?” bursts out Antony, this time with greater intensity. “The suspected spy?”

  “I’d say that’s water under the bridge now,” Archeos intervenes, in a tone that—though calm—carries a hint of mild rebuke. “The boy has nothing to do with the Republic.”

  “I’m increasingly convinced of that myself,” the captain agrees.

  “But… why?” Antony asks, clearly unhappy.

  “Actually, I don’t understand either,” says Samuel. “Fair enough with Dawn—she can use a bit of mayea and knows how to fight—but that boy…?”

  “You know he’s comparable to a philosopher, don’t you?” says Martin Young. “And ever since Archeos took a liking to him, we can almost consider him his pupil.”

  Aimond Lacelet chuckles at the remark. Paying no mind to it, the captain continues:

  “For this mission, we’ll need someone who understands the subject. The other philosophers aren’t suitable, and Archeos can’t risk going—he’s too important to us.”

  “I loathe this overprotectiveness,” the old man declares, with a slightly sulky expression.

  “There’s no alternative—you’re one of our most capable philosophers,” Martin Young replies. “Ethan Knight… among other things, I want to put the boy to the test. That’s also why I’ve chosen him to accompany you.”

  “Hmm…” Samuel mutters, scratching his temple with a doubtful look. “Well, I suppose you’ve thought it through carefully. Does he already know everything?”

  “No, nor does Dawn,” the captain replies. “I’ll have them brought here now. Stay—I’d like you to be present.”

  ???

  Why did he have me called?

  I don’t understand. A man came to the lab where I work to tell me that the captain wanted me immediately in his room. I had to drop everything I was doing on the spot and follow the messenger up to the higher levels of the Epos. What’s more, I haven’t seen Archeos around for several hours—could something be going on?

  I hope there aren’t new problems.

  When we reach Martin Young’s room, the messenger knocks and lets me in. As I step through the doorway, my eyes widen: in front of me are not only the captain, but also Archeos, Dawn, Antony, and Samuel. The three Sanders are lined up along one wall, while the philosopher is seated in front of the desk, his chair turned so that he can easily see everyone.

  “You wanted to see me?” I ask, casting a large questioning glance at those present.

  I lock eyes with Antony. For a moment, we glare at each other darkly: I haven’t forgotten the punch he gave me completely unprovoked. The pain has passed, but not the resentment.

  In any case, the captain’s voice redirects my attention elsewhere.

  “Yes, Ethan,” says Martin Young. “You’ve been called here because we want to assign you a new task.”

  A new task? Have they already grown tired of me playing the philosopher? Well, I can’t blame them…

  “All right, but… what is it about?”

  “Do you remember when I told you about the battle in the Carbon Archipelago?” Archeos asks.

  I nod.

  “Good. Antony and Samuel took part in it, but they also had another mission besides taking fuel from the Republic,” the philosopher explains. “Immediately after the battle, they went to Cyrus Sanders’s island to recover an object he had been safeguarding. The mission was successful, and now that object is here.”

  Only then do I notice something resting on Martin Young’s desk: the — supposed — case I saw Antony carrying on the day the Republic attacked us.

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