“You can’t do this
to me” I shouted as my fist struck the surface of my professor’s oak desk,
“This has the potential to help hundreds of people, thousands if it’s
successful.
My professor started to roll his
eyes, but restrained himself.
“Potential
only. It’ll hardly save hundreds if it’s a failure. Mr. Valen, you’re working
off of speculation.”
My hand clenched the edge of the
desk, my face began to match its redwood varnish. Oh, I had proof, not any that
the academy would accept— they would likely expel me on principal. Regardless,
my anger was pointless and my eyes were starting to burn. I began to rise, but
my professor motioned for me to stop.
“Peter,
wait.” He pleaded, “I understand where you’re coming from. You need a ‘Grand
Discovery’ to be admitted as a member of the academy, and you’re nowhere close
here. You think leaving will provide more of an opportunity. I beg to differ.
Keep up your studies, give it time and…”
“That’s
enough, sir.” I said, putting a hand up, “I think it’s unwise for either of us
to continue wasting our time.” I walked out of his office before he could say
anything else. The fool was intelligent, smarter than the majority of the
others in the academy, but he didn’t know a bloody thing. He lacked the
perception that I had acquired, he gladly consumed the lies his superiors fed
him. I could see through them. I
would not be so easily fooled.
I walked through the halls of the
Academy of Natural Philosophy, the pompous décor suited the building, mirroring
the majority of its inhabitants. The streets in the lower city may be dark at
night, but at least that darkness was real.
This was the realm of the artificial, and I was sick of it.
I stopped by a map of the
Pandyssian Continent which hung on the wall in a hallway. It was here, not long
ago that I saw what the academy was. It was here that I was shown the truth. I
just had to prove that I was right.
* * *
A
week later, I sat at my desk, reading the last of the literature I had borrowed
from the library at the Academy. It told me nothing about the continent, other
than the lies I already knew. They all said that which wasn’t desert was harsh
jungle. They all said there were no inhabitants. They all warned against
traveling or colonizing the continent. They were all gullible fools. They all
lacked my gift, my genius. They didn’t have vision.
Regardless, it was time to return
the books. The librarian had a habit of harassing me until I returned them, a
habit I didn’t care for. It was night, so I retrieved my cane as I went out.
You can never be too careful, in Dunwall after dark. The cane had a chamber in
the head which held a capsule of trans. When a hidden button on the shaft was
pressed, the capsule was broken and the energy was released on an unsuspecting
assailant. It was the weapon of a scholar, inasmuch as he needed one aside from
the pen.
I opened the door to leave my
modest flat, when I was confronted by a man on the other side. I raised my
cane, but before I could release the energy, he knocked it out of my hand.
“Now
now, Mr. Valen, is that any way to treat a business partner?” I took a step
back, dropping my bag full of books.
“Who
are you?”
The man walked casually into my
home, followed by two large, brutish gentlemen in the same, dirty,
working-class garb as the first wore.
“My
name’s Slackjaw,” the man answered “Perhaps you’ve heard of me?”
I’d
heard of him alright. “What do you want with me?”
“Like
I said, I want to partner up.”
“I
won’t work for a crime lord.”
His eyes widened at this, and he
looked down at his chest as if I’d stabbed him.
“Listen,”
he said, “Do you really believe all of that crap those aristocrats spout about
me? I’m just trying to help people in my own way. They just don’t want me to be
doing it on their dime.”
He made sense, I suppose. I didn’t
believe his motives were as honest as he made them out to be, Slackjaw was not
known for his altruism. However, perhaps his reputation was as sullied as the
Pandyssian Continent.
“I’m
listening” I said, hesitantly.
“That’s
all I ask,” he said, smiling. “Now, I’ve heard your proposition and I love it.
I can see the potential for us to aid the people of Dunwall. I just need you to
do something for me.”
“What’s
that?”
“Convince
me you’re not full of the same crap as everyone else in that glorified rathole.”
Could I trust him? I suppose this
would be my only chance to prove myself right. The academy wouldn’t accept my
proof, but Slackjaw might.
“Very
well,” I said, and looked him in the eye. Shortly after, his eyes widened and
then he nodded.
In my eyes, he saw the mark of the
Outsider.
The crime lord leaned back against
the wall of my flat, and put his hand up to his chin, staring at me all the
while.
“Alright,
let’s deal.”
* * *
A few weeks later we were almost
prepared for the journey. Slackjaw and his organization had provided colonist
volunteers and a crew, along with all of the required supplies and information.
I saw the man himself very little, but the assistants he provided were very
helpful, and provided anything I needed. The surplus of provision and support
meant that I had little to do but research, something that consumed my time and
attention, to the point where I began to habitually neglect meals, a tendency
which led to the loss of what little excess weight my body possessed. This would
have been tolerable, if my two favorite vests didn’t look like ponchos when I
wore them. Thus, I was off to the tailor this afternoon.
Walking from my flat to the tailors
shop was paid in turn by the quality of the man’s work and the pleasure of his
chipper, optimistic demeanor. If not for his accent, he would likely have been
a private tailor for the Lord Regent himself. My nose was buried in a book as I
walked up to the shop, which almost caused me to walk in on an argument between
the tailor and his wife.
“And
what happens when the colony, along with you, sinks on the way there? Or dies
in the jungle? Your ticket to ‘freedom’ leaves us with nothing but the rent!”
the tailor’s portly wife questioned.
“Darlin’,
I told ya, we’re bein’ led by that Varen fella that gets ‘is things done ‘ere.
I’d always telled ya ‘e was a sharp one, ‘im.”
“But
why did you have to sell everything?”
My knuckles turned white on the
doorknob. It was all I could do to stay outside. I waited a few moments to
collect myself and then walked in.
“My
apologies for eavesdropping, sir, but did you say you’re paying to join my crew?”
“Of
course sir, those are the rules Slackjaw gave us.”
I pursed my lips and gave him the
two vests.
“Here,
take these, I’ll be back for them later. I think I need to set up a meeting
with Slackjaw.”
* * *
It didn’t take long for me to find
Slackjaw, though I doubt he was hiding. It always amazed me, the information a
man could buy from a beggar for a single coin, particularly in Dunwall. I
walked into the warehouse that Slackjaw had taken over as a temporary
headquarters. It reeked of fish and sawdust, a side-effect of residency near
the docks. Slackjaw was standing over a table with another man, pointing at a
paper and mumbling something. As I approached, the other man left and Slackjaw
turned his attention towards me.
“Ah,
Valen, I was just about to send for you.” He said, keeping his eyes on the
table. “We’ve rented a whaling trawler for the trip.”
I reached the table and placed the
tip of my cane on the paper he was looking at.
“What
is it? I’m a bit busy at the moment.”
“I’ve
heard rumors that speak poorly to your character,” I said, and the room quickly
silenced itself. I looked into his eyes “I’ve heard you’ve been charging the
volunteers.”
Slackjaw’s eyes flashed wide for a
moment, and I locked my eyes with his, reminding him that he was dealing with a
man chosen by the outsider. After a long silence, he broke my gaze and his eyes
flew wide again, this time in rage.
“Listen,
kid, where do you thing all this money comes from? Look at me, I’m not rich not
like those bastards uptown. This is the only way to make this plan of yours
doable.” He said through his teeth. “Besides, this way we weed out the
nobodies.”
“So
that’s it then, you’re just like them.” I shouted, fingering the power button
on my cane. My eyes were growing warm.
Slackjaw looked at me, sighed, and said,
“Okay, I’m sorry. We should have talked this out. It’s too late to turn back
now though. He looked towards the door where the other man had exited.
He
was right. I was still tempted to cave his head in with my cane, but he was
right.
* * *
The
eve of the departure had come. We were to load the craft that night and depart
in the morning, early. Since our brief confrontation, Slackjaw had been in
touch more often. He seemed as dedicated as I to see this through. The moon was
bright that night, and it hurt my eyes. But they always hurt these days, ever
since argument with Slackjaw, they’d gotten progressively worse, turning from a
slight warmth to a painful burn. I tried to shake it off. Soon it’d be worth
every second I’d spent, every drop of blood and sweat. I had set one of the
assistants Slackjaw had provided to the task of directing the crew that was
loading the vessel, and went to my quarters. Slackjaw was meant to meet me
there in an hour. I sat in the small cabin and looked through the papers on my
desk, searching for any errors in my equations.
After
a few moments, I heard footsteps. I presumed Slackjaw was arriving early.
However, two voices, neither his, were all I heard.
“Yeah,
this is the room.”
“Is
he here yet?”
“Shouldn’t
matter. He’ll be here to meet Slackjaw soon enough.”
“Hey,
you hear about our bonus?”
“Jet,
we’re hired muscle. We don’t get ‘bonuses’”
“Yeah,
well, we do when the boss pulls off gig this big”
“I
thought he was losin’ money on this”
“Pfft,
do you think the boss plans on letting this ship leave harbor? The Watch is
gonna come arrest him and everyone else who don’t work for the boss, and the
boss is getting money for the ‘tip’” Jet chuckled, “Not only that, but the
crates all have his stamp on them, and he’ll be able to sell them all back. The
poor saps that signed up just gave us all money for a trip to jail.”
I
clenched my cane. My eyes were fire. I couldn’t… couldn’t…
* * *
The
two brutes stood outside the door. One dropped the last bit of a cigar onto the
deck. The heel of his boot moved to crush it, but before it touched the glowing
embers, the iron door blew out and struck the both of them. They were dead
before they hit the floor.
Valen,
or something that looked like him stalked out of the cabin. His demeanor was
more akin to a beast than the gentleman that once was Peter. A soft red light emanated
from his eyes. Cane in hand he went forward, ready for the hunt. He made his
way towards the bridge of the vessel, making every attempt to keep to the
shadows. Even the moonlight seemed to burn him, and the lights of the ship set
his skin aflame with pain, growing the bestial rage that was consuming him. He—
or it— continued to the hall that led to the bridge of the trawler. There,
standing between him and his goal stood a score of men, armed with blades and
rifles. Valen the beast charged forth, his cane above his head. Every time the
cane struck flesh, men were cast aside, broken. Bullets and blades battered and
bloodied Valens body, but more than muscle moved the man. Leaving a trail of
blood, including much of his own, Valen reached the empty bridge. He moved the
controls rapidly, taking the vessel out of the harbor. Just as the compass
needle pointed the correct bearing, the body of Valen collapsed.
* * *
I
awoke for just a moment, and looked up, out a window. I felt the rocking ship,
I heard the sea moving beneath it, and then the blackness came.
