The Whordgen's Secret

As the skyship returned to the harbors of New London, there was a large contingent of humans awaiting them. "Looks like yer welcoming committee has been awaitin', friend." Captain Radcliffe noted. News of the discovery of the Great Cog had already reached the ears of the government it seemed. It was too much for Thyme to hope their return could be secret and unnoticed, but this meant there was a traitor among their friends. Thyme couldn't bear to think that anyone would have betrayed them, but the truth was evident. Over two dozen soldiers was proof, and Malcolm was among them. Before they could even disembark, Owner Malcolm had boarded the Yonder with government soldiers armed to the teeth. Sebastyen, in usual vigor, was the first to complain.

"What is the meaning of this, Malcolm? There's no need for such show of force. We aren't even armed."

"I beg to differ, cat. You are armed with your lies and your secrets." Malcolm spoke with the air of pride, "You thought you could slip through our skies with our knowledge? Your friend Thyme there has already shown himself as untrustworthy, and we can't leave something as important as the Great Cog under his devious claws for any longer than necessary. Mr. Thyme, if you will do the honors and bring me the cog."

The crew all looked to Thyme. He stared directly at Malcolm, knowing his friends would be killed if he resisted. All he needed to do was give Malcolm a reason to, but he saw that he had lost this battle. Thyme said begrudgingly, "Do as he says." Radcliffe shifted weight from foot to foot, showing his reluctance, and then gave the order, "Fetch the cog, Riggins." Riggins immediately left, giving Malcolm a sour look as he past.

"No good will come of this, Owner Malcolm." Spoke the Rainreader. "Your pride will be your death, and the death of many innocents."

"Your kind may have had the privilege of prophecy and speaking to the gods at one time, outcast crow," retorted Malcolm, "But because of the impurity of you and your ilk, you've lost your favor. Humanity now has the faith to speak to the gods themselves. It is from their words alone that we hear of death or salvation. Or have you forgotten how you ended up on this ship in the first place, a disgrace to your own fallen tribe?" At this the Rainreader fell silent, but he maintained his warning gaze.

Riggins returned with the Cog slung on his back. It still was turning and burning dull red. He placed it at the feet of the Owner, who raised its holding post to look upon the scribbles and symbols written on its surface. "Surely, this is the one." Malcolm let out a small gasp and his eyes widened. "This is the cog that can power the Whordgen. Finally, we can join our creators in the heavens." It was then that Sebastyen noticed another among the Owner's company. Beyond the legs of the soldiers, there was a fleeting of white fur. "Angel?"

The name caught Thyme's attention. The company looked back to see Angel, head lowered but still dignified, like a thief caught in a trap but refusing to confess.

"What are you doing here?" asked Sebastyen.

"You wouldn't listen, my love. You left to side with him," she said, looking to Thyme, "and that is going to be the end of you. They wanted to kill you, Sebastyen, and I couldn't bear to see that happen, to see you buried. So I fought for you, I did everything I could to keep you safe..."

"What do you mean? What have you done, Angel?" Sebastyen asked.

Her breath waivered. But Thyme knew, and she didn't need to speak. The traitor had revealed herself.

"She betrayed us, Sebastyen." Thyme said simply.

"But she speaks the truth!" injected Malcolm, "Se fought for all of your safety, and I am a man of my word. I will see that no harm comes to them." At this, he raised his hand and the score of pistols and rifles raised with it, pointing at the crew.

"This is a strange way to assure us of safety." Said Abelard.

"As I recall, I said we keep you safe, but we can't have a crew of betrayers to the state galivanting across the skies of the country, spreading lies and false histories. We are commandeering this vessel."

Captain Radcliffe leaped forward, "You can't do this! I've serv'd the majesty fer years! I've proven my blood time and again!"

"So you have, Captain," Malcolm calmly replied, "and the country is grateful of your service. That is why we are letting you and your crew live. But as for those who are not the crew..." he turned to Thyme and Sebastyen, "They are to be taken into custody, pending the rulings of the sacred courts."

Sebastyen looked to Thyme, and Angel stepped forward. This move was only too predictable, but there was nothing they could do. It was obvious that Angel had exposed them and their return. Any chance of escape had evaporated. Sebastyen had the fire of fight in his eyes as if to say, "Come now, we've fought out of a greater rabble than this," but Thyme stretched out his paw. This was not a fight they could win. Even if they were to escape, there would be no stopping the waking of the Whordgen, and it was possible that capture would present new opportunities for them. Thyme would need Sebastyen's strength and courage if they were to continue to rebel.

"Very well, Owner. We turn ourselves in peaceably." Thyme said. The crew rose to their feet in protest, but one look from Thyme quelled them. He looked to Sebastyen to follow suit, and they both stepped forward and had their paws bound.

"There's a good animal. Now, if you will all be so kind as to disembark my new ship, me and my men would be grateful."

Angel could not remain silent, "You promised me that they would come to no harm!" She moved to clasp Malcolm's arm, and he quickly removed a pistol and pointed it straight at her.

"DO.. not touch me with those... flithy furs." Rage was in his eyes, but it was unequaled to the fire in Sebastyen's. Thyme acted quickly and stood between Malcolm and Angel. "Enough of this! There is no need for violence. You've received what you came for. Let the others go."

"You're right, Thyme," Malcolm returned his pistol, "I've no need to sully my new ship with lesser blood. Come along." As they left, the crew of the Yonder watched them go. Angel, visibly shaken with fear and despair began to realize her mistake in trusting Malcolm. Sebastyen turned and said to Radcliffe, "Take care of her, captain. Don't judge her, but keep her safe."

"Aye, lad. You 'ave my word and my honor."

They walked side by side off the ship, Thyme and Sebastyen. Thyme's mind struggled to think of a way out of the situation, but his thoughts always returned to all the other moments that Thyme found himself in distress. Always Sebastyen was by his side, always with no hope to be found, yet they had somehow prevailed to this moment. Through luck, through kinship, through sheer stubbornness they found the strength to survive. Thyme couldn't help but let out a little laugh.

"I would be obliged to learn what is so humorous about our circumstances, sir." Said Sebastyen dryly, noticing Thyme's all-too-rare jovial disposition.

"We always seem to find ourselves here, Sebastyen. Hopeless, naught but our wits and heartiness to save us. Cut off from friends and familiar places. I'm starting to think we like the idea of dying, but can just never get it right."

"We may not have to try much longer, sir." replied Sebastyen, "This new lot is beyond even my strength to fight. He is too vile, that Malcolm... What can we do in face of such blind and malicious conviction?"

"Hope is all, my young friend." Thyme reflected, "We may feel alone, but even our feelings can sometimes be less than truthful. I would place our hope in our friends yet."

"I'd rather have my hope placed in my own claws." Sebastyen rebutted, "I'll see that Malcolm pays for this myself. No one points a gun at my Angel and gets away with it."

Thyme was tempted to remind Sebastyen of his love's betrayal, but even he knew that wasn't right. Angel was working to save their lives and besides, Thyme had learned through experience to refrain from challenging the love of Sebastyen. That anger may serve to help them yet, when the moment becomes right.

_______________________

Malcolm could not help himself. He sent word to Cylith to meet him at the Whordgen. He was going to see what this vehicle was, and he was going to find out that very night. He was the prime candidate for piloting the craft, and he wanted to see its lights, feels its hum, get to know what the steam of life did within its sheets of bronze and gold. Within the hour, Grand Cog in possession, he stood before the Whordgen with Cylith, hands quivering in anticipation.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Cylith commented, "You have no idea what will happen, and while I believe the prophecies as much as you, I would be a bit more comfortable with an army behind me if this thing wakes up swinging."

"Don't be so pessimistic, Cylith. It isn't becoming of a woman of your position to be so... doubtful. I'm not going to pilot it, I just want to sit in the chair a bit... assuming there is a chair. Besides, you're here to go get help if anything goes wrong."

"Lovely. Be sure not to touch anything, even if it look innocent. Fine, here's the cog-space." Cylith removed the outer plate, revealing the core of dark emptiness, waiting to be filled by the cog that would be its heart. Slowly, Malcolm lifted the red cog and placed it into the space. There was a small click, and several gears began to lower into place around the Great Cog. Through processes of steam and whines, the hum of machinery coming to life could be distinctly heard throughout the promenade. The eyes of the Whordgen opened, and its lettering on its breastplate lit a bright, fiery red. Slowly the Whordgen lowered itself and with a great crash of weight came to rest on its hind legs, waiting for its master pilot.

"Well, there it is. Its awake. Now what?" asked Cylith.

"Help me look for the portal leading inside. Perhaps its around the back..." They circled the great beast and could find nothing. No hole, no ladder, no stair leading to the pilots quarters. Nothing. "Perhaps it isn't supposed to be manned? Perhaps it responds to verbal commands?" Malcolm wondered aloud. He began to shout common machine commands, "Open!" The Whordgen remained still. "Awake!" Nothing. "OBEY!!" Still nothing. "Damn it all! We solve one puzzle just to find another..."

"Wait a moment" said Cylith. "There, behind the right foreleg." Hidden just above where the right paw met the floor was a small golden ladder that reached up to an opening. The Owners peered into it, and it looked to stretch in gilt and gold all the way up into a space behind the Whordgen's eyes.

"Well this must be it, but it looks a little tight..." Malcolm began to climb the ladder to the opening. To his dismay, the size of the hole was too small to fit his frame. He struggled and grunted, attempted to find some way to fit through, but it was clear that even if he could, the rest of the journey up would have been too constrictive. Malcolm soon gave up and returned to the floor, where a giggling Cylith watched.

"I don't understand. This is clearly the portal, but only a child could fit through that hole. I can't imagine why the Ancient Ones would make a machine so large and sacred to be piloted by a child... What are you laughing about? I didn't see you try to help me..."

Cylith was now laughing hysterically. She was gripping her sides and shaking her head while looking at Malcolm. After some moments she stopped laughing with a sigh and began to walk away when she noted, "Malcolm, poor Malcolm. You were always such an idiot, such a fool..."

At this, Malcolm raged, "How dare you!? Did you forget that all this is only possible because of me!? We are at the dawn of a new chapter in human history, and all you can to do is insult me!? I'll have you buried before the sun rises on..."

"Calm down. I was only observing your inability to see the truth."

"Truth? What truth? What are you talking about?"

"Malcolm, this Whordgen may be a new chapter in history, but not for humanity. It was made to be piloted by an animal."

"What..." Malcolm froze as his mind wrestled with the notion. How can the greatest discovery humanity has ever found, the Whordgen, the vehicle for the ascension of man that was referenced time and again in the prophecies, be mastered by an animal. "This is impossible. There is no way that this..."

"An animal is the only thing that can fit through a portal that size. Its not unprecedented; many of the old devices were made to be piloted by animals. Just never anything this large..."

"Or this sacred!! I won't have it, I won't have this machine of the gods be desecrated by animal paws!"

"But look at it, Malcolm. Its very form is a unique combination of human and animal. There is some historical evidence that humans and animals once worked together."

"You mean animals once served us then revolted."

"Yes, fine, served and revolted, but perhaps this was made before then." She looked to Malcolm, who was visibly torn by this moral dilemma. "Malcolm, don't be so pessimistic. It isn't becoming of you to be so doubtful." She smiled, "As I understand it, you have two animals in custody awaiting execution, and one animal who will do anything to make sure they live."

At this, Malcolm raised his face. "Angel? Are you suggesting she pilot the Whordgen? I won't have it!"

"I'm not sure you have any other choice, Malcolm. You have the entire city of New London expecting the awakening of the Whordgen and the 'ascension of humanity' in only a week's time. But it's a simple enough problem; she will agree to follow your every word, as long as the Inspector and his assistant come to no harm."

The proposal infuriated Malcolm, but he knew he had no choice. For years he dreamed of piloting the Whordgen, to lead all humanity to the ascension that had been foretold and be the first to taste the air of deification. But now his dream were destroyed by a portal too small. The gods were testing him... obviously in their mercy they decided it was important for humanity to learn to live with the under-creatures enough to work together with them. So be it. Malcolm decided that he would arise, become greater, and extend the honor to those who were lesser. Angel would pilot the Whordgen, and he would pilot Angel. This would have to be enough.