The Celestial Way

Chapter 8.7 - Haven by the Way

Airo went for a walk.

He was tired of waiting, and drinking was helping less and less as he woke up each morning to a familiar rhythm he had gone through for five years, in a run-down apartment, on a strange planet at the other end of the galaxy, during his old life seven centuries ago. Things were slightly different now, yet the main aspects were the same: he was still alone in his grief, dragons still blighted the world, and Ferrtau was still here. Not by his side this time around but hopefully at the tip of his blade in the foreseeable future.

He was drunk almost constantly now. He wandered along the walkways aimlessly, his mind barely held in a stupor by the oceans of hard liquor. People strolled about, enjoying the clear weather, their colorful garments and smartclos blending with the crystal facades in a lambent kaleidoscope. Airo was messy and unkempt, and only the integrated microionization emitters had prevented his power armor from accumulating large layers of grime.

Somehow, he ended up in a dark place. He glanced around stupidly. It was still daytime, yet the suns had vanished. There was still light, albeit diffused and dim. He made a few experimental turns. He couldn't figure out what was wrong.

"Boss... is that you?" a familiar voice echoed close by.

Airo craned his head and saw Zuckeroff's face, which was peering from a nearby doorway. He finally realized where he was: it was the cliffside cavern across the High Temple, the one with the public dormitories.

"Yeah," he said lamely.

"Hey now, come inside." Zuckeroff sounded worried. "Uh, that is, if you want to, Boss?"

"Sure," Airo said, and ambled toward the threshold.

Inside, Zuckeroff had variformed his bed into a large vinyl couch. The computer terminal projected a wide-angle screen on one of the walls. Empty beer cans and crumpled clothing were discarded randomly. The astrior was in the process of watching sports.

"Come, sit down," he said, gesturing enthusiastically. "You want something, Boss? I have beer and snacks!"

"Why do you keep calling me that?" Airo asked dully. "I am not your commanding officer. I am not even a real commander."

"Sure you are," Zuckeroff said easily. He paused and threw Airo a look. "I may be a goof, but I know a leader when I see one. And you, Boss, are ten outta ten. Sure, you may be a bit scary at times, and, uh, quite crazy at others, but you. Are. A. Boss. Plus, your rank is real enough; at least Ki says so."

"Hmm."

"C'mon now, have a seat! This is the best part of the match!"

Airo sat down woodenly. He looked at the screen. The game was set on a huge, multi-layered arena, and the playing field was hovering high in the air. Two teams of considerable numbers vied for control over a trio of luminous balls. "What is this game?"

Zuckeroff slurped from a beer can. "Skycast! The greatest sport ever! Um, only there are no more dragons in it."

"Dragons?"

"Oh, yeah. See those airjets and automated drones? They used to be dragons with riders instead." Zuckeroff slurped some more. He held out his can. "Beer?"

Airo eyed the can mechanically. "Do you have hard stuff?"

"Ah, I don't think so," Zuckeroff said, lowering the beer can. "But I have onion rings!" he offered hopefully.

"I think I will pass."

They watched the game in silence for a few minutes. Airo blankly followed the futuristic spectacle. He was dimly aware of Zuckeroff gathering resolve beside him, as if preparing mentally for something.