Chapter 14

Archer stood at the bow of the Arrow, wearing his armor and an oxygen mask.

Below the ship, the sky was covered by a dense blanket of clouds.

Far ahead, high above them, a cluster of dots was visible—the combined fleet of Paoriana and Tonki.

The enemy had refused to engage the Ramman fleet at an altitude where its cannons would be most effective.

Instead, twenty-five miles above the ground, where there was barely any oxygen in the air, Admiral Glimorsky was being forced to board the enemy ships.

Given the inexperience of the crews aboard the Arrow and her escort vessels, the admiral estimated that the two sides were roughly evenly matched.

Three weeks earlier, Ramman had received a diplomatic dispatch from Paoriana.

They had the magic brush.

And they would return it in exchange for a five-year contract with Archer, under which he would be required to use the brush to build ships for Paoriana.

Ramman’s military analysts concluded that Paoriana had no intention of actually returning the brush, even if their demands were met.

Ramman sent back a demand of its own:

“Return the brush, or we’ll come and get it.”

Archer had no desire to spend five years being exploited by a treacherous kingdom that could just as easily deceive him, break the agreement, or extend the contract.

More importantly, Archer was angry.

The idea of taking the brush back by force suited him just fine.

King Panfred supported his decision and sent his entire newly built fleet to war against Paoriana and its ally, Tonki.

Sol and his more than seven hundred artificial workers joined the campaign as noncombatant sailors, distributed among Ramman’s nine warships.

“The admiral requests your presence on the bridge,” a sailor wearing an oxygen mask told Archer.

Archer nodded and made his way to the Arrow’s bridge.

Sol and Admiral Glimorsky were waiting for him.

“Archer,” Glimorsky said as Archer stepped onto the bridge, “I’m glad to see you’re eager for a fight, but you really shouldn’t stand on the bow when we’re about to ram another ship.”

“All right,” Archer said.

“If you want to take part in the boarding yourself, take up position in one of the corridors on the main deck,” the admiral said.

“That’s where the sailors who’ll be fighting the enemy crews hand-to-hand in two minutes are assembling.

“And ask the boatswain to get you a shield!”

“Sol, are you coming?” Archer asked his companion.

“I’ll cover you.” Sol nodded.

“Glimorsky,” Archer said before leaving.

“What?” the admiral asked.

“Good luck.”

“Luck is for romantics,” Glimorsky replied. “I’m a realist. If you want to wish me something, wish that I don’t flinch when the moment comes.”

“Then don’t flinch,” Archer said.

“You either,” the admiral replied.

Archer and Sol descended into the corridors of the main deck, which were packed with sailors.

Standard equipment for a high-altitude boarding action consisted of a crossbow, twenty bolts, a shield, an oxygen mask with a thirty-minute air supply, and a machete.

Archer and Sol stood out in their heavy iron armor.

“You two!” the boatswain shouted at Archer and Sol. “Are you joining the boarding party?”

“Yes,” Archer replied.

“Need shields?”

“Yes.”

“Then head back down the corridor to the nearest compartment,” the boatswain said. “There are hatches in the deck. Shields, crossbows, and machetes are stored underneath.

“Take whatever you need.

“Can’t help you with masks.”

“Understood,” Archer said.

Red warning lights came on above the sailors’ heads.

“One minute to contact!” the boatswain shouted.

“One minute to contact!” another voice echoed from somewhere farther down the corridor.

“Come on, Sol. Let’s hurry,” Archer said.

They squeezed through the crowd of sailors and made their way down the corridor into the compartment.

They opened the hatches recessed into the deck and took shields, crossbows, machetes, and as many extra bolts as they could carry.

Then they closed the hatches and prepared to head back into the corridor.

“Archer,” Sol said.

“Yes, Sol?”

Sol removed his metal helmet and placed it on Archer’s head.

“What about you?” Archer asked.

“My face can withstand enemy attacks. Yours can’t,” Sol said.

Archer nodded.

“Ten seconds to contact!” a voice announced over the loudspeakers. “Brace for impact!”

Archer and Sol grabbed the handrails.

The ship’s acceleration shifted violently from one direction to another, pulling the sailors toward the deck, then one bulkhead, then the other.

And then, to everyone’s surprise, nothing happened.

There was no collision.

The ship began to turn.

Suddenly, the entire vessel shuddered.

The deck jerked sideways, followed by the deafening crack of splintering timber.

“Contact!” the voice announced over the loudspeaker.

“Contact!” the boatswain shouted. “Open the hatches!”

The exterior hatches swung open, and the sailors rushed out one after another onto the deck, where the battle was already beginning.

Archer and Sol took their places at the rear of the tightly packed crowd.

Suddenly, another impact struck the ship.

Another tremendous crack of breaking timber.

The sailors in the corridor were thrown against the bulkhead, and the ship listed about ten degrees to port.

They recovered from the impact and continued pouring outside.

Soon it was Archer and Sol’s turn.

With their shields raised, they ran out of the corridor and onto the deck.

The first thing Archer saw was the dead and wounded sailors of the Arrow lying on the deck.

The second thing he noticed was several crossbow bolts slamming into his shield.

They were all coming from the same direction.

Archer and Sol turned and immediately saw an enemy frigate embedded in the starboard side of the Arrow’s deck.

Enemy sailors were pouring from the frigate onto the Arrow, charging into battle with crossbows and shields.

Archer dropped to one knee and crouched completely behind his shield.

Peering just over its upper edge, he tried to aim his crossbow at the enemy.

Bolts whistled past him.

Every so often, one struck his shield, leaving a dent visible from the inside.

Archer couldn’t choose a target.

There were too many of them, and they were all moving too quickly.

Far ahead, the front ranks had already collided in hand-to-hand combat.

From where Archer stood, all he could see were the backs of his own sailors.

“Archer!” Sol shouted. “Let’s get into the melee!”

Sol hooked his crossbow onto his belt and drew his machete.

Archer nodded.

He hooked his own crossbow onto his belt, drew his machete, rose to his feet, and charged toward the hand-to-hand fighting.

Several bolts whistled past Archer.

One struck his shield.

Then another.

And then Archer crashed into the front line of the battle.

He slammed his shield into an enemy’s shield, and the two began fighting with machetes.

Archer immediately felt the advantage he had.

He was wearing full metal armor from head to toe.

A machete strike could do almost nothing to him.

But when his own machete struck an enemy’s unprotected body, it wounded or killed, taking the man out of the fight instantly.

Archer remembered his training in the basement of his palace.

The fights against the dummy.

The countless sparring sessions with different weapons.

He knew this.

He had trained for this.

And once he realized that, he began attacking with greater confidence and precision—parrying enemy strikes, blocking with his shield, mixing kicks, shield blows, and headbutts into his attacks.

Suddenly, a sharp pain tore through his left shoulder.

Archer glanced down and saw a crossbow bolt protruding from his shoulder plate.

He didn’t care.

He was immortal.

He kept striking.

Again.

Again.

Again.

His machete, his shield, his enemies, and the deck beneath his feet became slick with blood.

Archer was in excellent physical condition.

He was strong, flexible, and fast.

He was clearly more capable than the ordinary enemy sailors facing him.

And one after another, unable to match him, they died by his hand.

Sol was fighting beside him.

And Sol was even better.

Realizing that his shield was only slowing him down, Sol threw it aside.

With his free hand, he grabbed enemy shields and ripped them from their owners’ grasp, then drove his machete into heads and necks or hacked off arms.

Crossbow bolts began flying toward the now-unprotected Sol.

He didn’t care.

Sol felt no pain and could not be wounded.

No matter where an enemy bolt struck him, it did nothing to slow him down.

Before long, nearly twenty bolts were sticking out of his body.

Two had struck him in the head.

Neither had hit the amulet itself.

Once there were no enemy sailors left nearby willing to face him in hand-to-hand combat, Sol drew the crossbow from his belt and turned his attention to the enemy marksmen.

Accuracy was not a problem for him.

He waited until an enemy leaned out from behind his shield to fire.

Then Sol put a bolt straight through his head.

One enemy marksman after another fell.

Then another tremendous impact shook the ship—so violently that everyone was thrown to the deck.

An enemy frigate had rammed bow-first into the Arrow’s main engine exhaust ports and lodged itself in the stern of Ramman’s flagship.

The Arrow’s engine died.

The enormous ship began to slow.

But the battle on deck continued.

Sailors on both sides climbed back to their feet and threw themselves once more into the melee.

“Archer!” Sol shouted.

Archer looked at his companion, whose entire front was riddled with bolts.

“We’re falling!” Sol shouted.

Archer looked at Sol, then at the smoke pouring from beneath the stern.

“It’s all right!” Archer shouted. “The Arrow has a parachute!”

Sol picked up his shield, walked over to Archer, and used it to cover him as he dragged his companion away from the front line.

“Sol! What are you doing?” Archer protested.

“Archer, look!”

Sol pointed in a completely different direction, away from the fighting.

Archer looked.

All he saw was an enemy frigate flying in the distance.

“Sol, what is it?” Archer asked.

“That frigate is waiting for the Arrow to deploy its emergency parachute,” Sol said. “It’s been circling us since the battle began.

“This is a coordinated attack on the Arrow.

“They’re trying to disable her.

“Do you understand?”

“That can’t be,” Archer said, staring at the enemy frigate as it disappeared behind the Arrow’s upper deck.

“Archer,” Sol said. “Once they destroy the Arrow’s parachute, we’re going to drop like a rock.

“We need to get off this ship.”

“No...” Archer said.

He didn’t want to accept defeat.

“Archer!” Sol insisted.

“All right! All right!” Archer said. “I understand!”

Archer looked around.

“We need to report this to the bridge,” he said.

“We don’t have time,” Sol replied.

“Then we’ll have someone else do it,” Archer said. “Help me, Sol!”

Archer headed toward the front line, grabbed one of the sailors by the arm, and dragged him back toward the stern superstructure.

Sol joined him and grabbed the sailor’s other arm.

Together, they hauled him some distance away from the fighting.

The sailor struggled and cursed.

“Sailor!” Archer shouted. “Sailor!”

“What?” the man shouted back angrily.

“Our ship is falling!” Archer yelled in his face.

“I don’t care!” the sailor shouted. “Let me go!”

“You have to tell the admiral!” Archer yelled. “The admiral needs to know!”

“Know what?” the sailor demanded, still struggling.

“The moment the Arrow deploys her emergency parachute, an enemy frigate is going to open fire on it!” Archer shouted in his face.

The sailor stopped struggling.

“What frigate?”

“The one that’s been circling the Arrow since the battle began,” Sol said loudly.

The sailor looked at Sol.

At the twenty or so bolts sticking out of his body.

At the silver amulet where his face should have been.

And then he understood what Archer and Sol were telling him.

“Got it,” the sailor said. “I’ll report it to the bridge. Let me go.”

Archer and Sol released him, and the sailor ran toward the superstructure.

“Now we get out of here,” Sol said.

“Sol, wait,” Archer said. “I have an idea.”

Sol said nothing.

“Look.”

Archer pointed at the enemy frigate lodged in the Arrow’s deck.

“We get aboard that ship and seize control.

“Then we deploy its emergency parachute,” Archer explained.

“Maybe the parachute will pull the frigate free of the Arrow.

“Once we’re clear, we cut the parachute loose, go to full thrust, and ram the frigate that’s waiting to shoot down the Arrow’s parachute.

“Maybe we take it out.

“Or maybe we distract it long enough for the Arrow to land safely.”

“The odds of that operation succeeding are one in twelve,” Sol said. “Most likely, it won’t work.”

“But we have to try,” Archer said.

“Have to? For whom?” Sol asked.

“Sol,” Archer said. “I’m practically immortal, and you’re practically indestructible.

“What do we have to be afraid of?

“Why should we be the ones running away?

“And if this works, just imagine how phenomenal it’ll be!”

“Phenomenal,” Sol repeated.

“I don’t think that’s the best principle for conducting a war.”

“Come on, Sol!” Archer said. “If it doesn’t work, we grab parachutes from the enemy ship and get out.

“We’ll leave the battle, all right?

“But first, let’s try this ‘phenomenal’ maneuver.”

“All right,” Sol said. “Let’s do it.”

“Excellent!” Archer said.

“Come on! Let’s go!”

Archer and Sol raised their shields and advanced toward the front line.

They forced their way into the formation, pushed through to the fighting, and—with machetes, shields, and kicks—tore a gap through the enemy ranks.

They broke through the enemy sailors and ran onto the curved deck of the hostile frigate.

Through windows shattered in the collision, they saw the bridge crew scrambling as they realized Archer and Sol were coming.

They rushed into the superstructure and climbed the stairs.

The door to the bridge was locked.

“Through the window?” Archer asked.

“Let’s do it,” Sol said. “Give me a boost.”

“All right.”

They ran back onto the deck.

Archer stood with his back against the bulkhead and clasped his hands together to form a step.

With astonishing agility, Sol planted one foot in Archer’s hands.

Archer lifted him.

Sol stepped onto Archer’s shoulder with his other foot and grabbed the window frame.

Shouts came from inside the bridge.

Sol pulled himself up sharply and climbed through the window.

Archer heard shouting.

Crossbows firing.

More shouting.

The sounds of human bodies slamming into bulkheads.

And then—

Silence.

Sol appeared at the window.

“I’m opening the door.”

“Excellent,” Archer said, and ran back up the stairs to the bridge.

The door was open.

Archer stepped inside and saw six dead officers.

Sol was standing behind the navigation console.

“Everything all right?” Archer asked.

“I think so,” Sol said. “We’re ready for the maneuver.”

“Excellent. Should we put on parachutes?”

“I’m afraid there’s no time,” Sol said. “The Arrow is about to go into free fall.”

“Understood,” Archer said. “Then we do what we planned.”

“I suggest we contact the Arrow by radio,” Sol said.

“Agreed. Do you know the frequency?”

“Yes.”

Sol walked over to the radio transmitter, tuned it to the correct frequency, and began transmitting.

“Arrow, this is Sol. Archer and I have taken control of the bridge of the enemy frigate Rimer Price.

“Repeat: this is Sol. Archer and I have taken control of the bridge of the enemy frigate Rimer Price.

“Respond.”

About ten seconds later, a reply came from the Arrow.

“Sol, we hear you. We received your warning about the threat to the emergency parachute. The sailor delivered your message.

“Thank you.”

“Arrow, understood,” Sol said. “Archer and I will attempt to prevent the enemy frigate from attacking your parachute.

“We are taking control of the Rimer Price.

“We’ll attempt to separate from the Arrow.

“Do you copy?”

“Sol, we copy. Thank you.

“And good luck.”

“Luck is for romantics,” Sol said after switching off the transmitter.

Before long, the Arrow lost all forward momentum and began dropping rapidly.

Sol and Archer strapped themselves in—Sol in the navigator’s chair, Archer in the captain’s.

The bodies of the dead crewmen began to float upward until they came to rest against the ceiling.

The Arrow was dropping like a stone.

“Archer,” Sol said.

“Yes, Sol?”

“If I die, please take care of the artificial people.”

“I promise.”

“And, Archer...”

“Yes, Sol?”

“Being your companion has been interesting,” the silver advisor said.

“Likewise, my friend.”

“I’m deploying the parachute,” Sol said.

“Do it.”

Sol pulled one of the levers on the navigator’s console.

A yellow light illuminated on the control panel beside the word PARACHUTE.

Ten seconds later, the light changed from yellow to green.

The Rimer Price jerked violently upward.

The bodies on the ceiling slammed back onto the deck.

Archer felt an enormous force crush him into his seat.

For several seconds, he lost consciousness.

He came to almost immediately, looked around, and said:

“How are we doing?”

“Parachute deployed successfully,” Sol said. “We’ve separated from the Arrow.

“Starting the main engine.”

“Do it, Sol.”

The main engine came to life.

Thrust returned, and the ship began moving forward, gradually gaining speed.

Everything shook.

Archer gripped the armrests.

“Medium speed reached,” Sol reported. “The ship’s aerodynamics have been compromised.

“But I believe we can still fly.

“Ready to release the parachute.”

“Release it.”

Sol pulled the same lever again.

The ship dropped slightly, then began accelerating even faster.

“Parachute released successfully,” Sol said.

“We’re flying under main thrust.

“Ready to begin the intercept maneuver.”

“Do it,” Archer said.

Sol took the helm and turned the ship to the left and downward.

Clouds came into view.

Then, after a while, they saw the Arrow, plummeting in free fall.

And circling around her was the enemy frigate.

“I see the target,” Sol said. “Moving to intercept.”

Archer sat in the captain’s chair, watching through the shattered windows as their captured ship closed in on the enemy frigate.

The seconds passed.

The target drew closer and closer.

“Archer,” Sol said, “you should look for parachutes. We have about a minute until impact.”

“Got it.”

Archer unbuckled himself from the captain’s chair and began searching.

He opened hatches in the deck, but found only wiring and pipes.

He opened cabinets built into the bulkheads, but they contained nothing except maps and documents.

Then he crouched and looked beneath the seats.

There they were.

Parachutes.

Archer pulled one from beneath Sol’s seat and handed it to him.

Then he retrieved another from beneath the captain’s chair for himself.

“We’ll put them on afterward,” Sol said. “Ten seconds to impact.

“Strap in. Now.”

Archer quickly dropped into the captain’s chair and fastened the restraints.

He had barely looked up through the windows when he saw the stern of the enemy frigate rushing toward them.

For a fraction of a second, Archer felt an enormous impact and heard the deafening crack of splintering wood.

Then everything went black.

Archer opened his eyes.

He was lying in his bed aboard the Arrow, still wearing his armor.

A sailor stood nearby, frozen in terror.

The man had backed himself against the bulkhead and was barely breathing.

“Sailor,” Archer said, sitting up.

“Yes?” the sailor answered.

“I just respawned, didn’t I?”

“Yes.”

Archer climbed out of bed.

“Did we manage to save the Arrow from crashing?”

“Yes.”

“I see,” Archer said. “Where can I find Glimorsky?”

“On the bridge.”

Archer left his cabin and headed for the bridge.

Sailors and artificial workers moved through the ship.

The decks and bulkheads were intact.

Everything looked normal.

The Painter entered the bridge, and the officers immediately noticed him.

Glimorsky turned toward Archer and broke into a broad smile.

“You’re alive!” the admiral said happily.

“So are you,” Archer replied with a faint smile. “Sol, though... I don’t know.”

“Sol was piloting the enemy frigate?” Glimorsky asked.

“Yes.”

“That was some incredible flying,” Glimorsky said. “We saw the explosion from the Arrow.”

“We exploded?” Archer asked.

“Yes,” the admiral replied. “Blew the enemy frigate to splinters.”

“Damn,” Archer said, falling silent for a moment.

“Don’t be discouraged,” Glimorsky said. “Sol sacrificed himself, but he saved hundreds of lives—and he saved the Arrow.

“Once we make some repairs, we’ll be back in the air, and we’ll show Tonki and Paoriana that we’re not to be trifled with.

“Their fleet has been completely destroyed.

“Ours... well, we only lost half our frigates.

“Either way, we’re the kings of the sky now. No one can match us.”

“What happens next?” Archer asked.

“Next, we head for Paorian and bombard their fortifications from the Arrow until they surrender and return your brush.

“We won’t just force them to sign a ceasefire and pay reparations. We’ll demand unconditional surrender.

“Then we’ll do the same to Tonki.

“After that, whatever King Panfred decides to do with them is what happens.”

“I want to organize a search operation,” Archer said.

“To find Sol?” the admiral asked.

“Yes. Without him, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“I understand,” Glimorsky said. “All right. You have my word—we’ll conduct a search as soon as this military campaign is over.

“We recorded the coordinates of the crash, so we’ll know where to look.

“I’m afraid it won’t be easy, though. We’ll have to search the ocean floor.”

“I’ll figure something out,” Archer said. “The important thing is getting the brush back.

“Once I have it, I can paint something that’ll help us bring him back.”

“I don’t doubt it,” the admiral said.

“All right. I’ll let you work.”

Archer left the bridge.

Archer stepped outside onto the ship’s deck and saw that the Arrow was resting on the water.

A wave of sadness came over him.

He had lost Anka.

He had lost the brush.

And now he had lost Sol.

Yes, he had done a great deal of good along the way. He had made the world a better place.

But that didn’t make the bitterness of his personal losses weigh any less heavily on him.

Repairs to the ship took four days.

Then Ramman’s remaining fleet—four ships with a combined crew of only a thousand men—set out for Paorian.

Archer stood on the main deck beside the large-caliber cannons as they bombarded Paorian’s fortifications and city walls.

For eight days, the Arrow shelled the city.

Only after the last bastion had been destroyed did Paorian make radio contact and offer a ceasefire.

Yes, Paorian could have resisted longer.

They could have refused to negotiate.

They could have used their own population as human shields and forced Ramman to deploy ground troops.

But instead they raised the white flag.

Archer decided that perhaps their monarch wasn’t entirely unreasonable after all.

King Coldrik the Fourth of Paorian arranged a personal meeting at his palace and invited Prince Glimorsky to negotiate.

Glimorsky brought his senior officers with him.

And Archer.

Coldrik offered a ceasefire.

Glimorsky demanded surrender.

Coldrik offered reparations.

Glimorsky demanded more.

Coldrik agreed to surrender.

Glimorsky demanded unconditional surrender.

And then, right in the middle of the negotiations, something interesting happened.

Upon learning that Paorian was negotiating with Ramman, King Beorophon the Third of Tonki sent a diplomatic radio message to King Panfred the Second of Ramman, offering Tonki’s complete and unconditional surrender.

Ramman accepted immediately.

News of Tonki’s surrender reached Glimorsky while he was still negotiating with Coldrik.

Archer watched from the sidelines.

First, Glimorsky’s communications officer approached and handed him a small piece of paper.

About a minute later, one of Coldrik’s advisors walked over and whispered something into the king’s ear.

After those two messages, Coldrik signed the unconditional surrender and hurriedly withdrew.

“The war is over. We won,” Glimorsky told Archer when he approached him.

“They surrendered?” Archer asked.

“Unconditionally.” Glimorsky smiled.

“And the brush?”

“The brush is in Ramman,” the admiral said. “They never took it out of our capital.

“Their agent—that woman—hid it inside one of the drainage pipes at your shipyard.

“It’s been there this entire time.

“Our people recovered it half an hour ago.”

Archer grinned.

“We’re going home,” Glimorsky said.