The Last Will & Testament of Ash d'Wit: The Second Visitor
A Narratives Archive tale. Melir reads a tale of Ash the Witty, and then must deal with another.
Written for Prompt 2 of One Month-Many Lives: Ash the Witty, a Leader among ‘Merchants’. Read the first in this series here.
A video began moments after the Klaxon’s stopped. They would have missed it in the panic, if Aidan hadn’t paused it in time. The crew of The Siren’s Song had jettisoned the box that triggered the alarm, and were staring now at the paused image of their captain.
Ash was on the screen. Not the unconscious, energy-blasted wreck of a man that just been stolen from them; they were still trying to figure out what happened there. This Ash was how they expected to see him at the end of a mission; half-dressed in his favourite trousers and shirt, a bottle in his hand, almost empty. His lightning bolt earring, sparkling away to its own beat.
“I hope that got your attention.” Ash was saying, apparently about the klaxon. “It would be a shame if I’ve recorded this and you don’t see it. It should be alright. They’ll blow you up eventually, but it shouldn’t be right away. Not much use as leverage if you’re dead before they start on me.” He took a swig from the bottle.
“I should probably explain a bit. If you’re seeing this, that means they got me, and I’m hoping they let you go. Don’t fret about it. It was bound to happen eventually. Best all round if you guys forget about me and move on. Pretend I’m dead. God, I might as well be if you are seeing this.” He paused, staring blankly for a moment. Then blinked. “Anyway, think of this as a Will or something, grieve if you feel like it, and move on. You might see some messages from someone looking like me. Ignore them. That won’t be me talking, not really.”
“I’m not making much sense, I know. But, if I say too much, even now, it’ll set things off. Hey maybe that’s what happened. I record this and the following morning BAM! They’re knocking on the Airlock. God I hope not. Dealing with my Sister with a hangover is the worst. Oh god!. What if it’s Aunt on the Amber? It is, isn’t it? She won’t stop. That damn ship is going to be everywhere until I slip up, isn’t it?”
Ash sat there for a moment, head in his hands, and then took another swig.
“Right! The will. Okay, so like I said, think of me as dead. You guys get everything of course. Equal shares in the ship, obviously. Don’t know what you want to do about captaining her. Take turns, maybe?”
He starts roaming around his room, picking up files, and objects, saying a name after each one. “Luce, you get the contacts list. You’ve got the best chance of getting them to listen, I reckon. Andy. You look after the settlements. I’d like to think you guys will be able to keep helping them but, doesn’t seem likely what with the invasion and all, so do what you can with what’s left. Aiden, take care of Misty. You’re the only one she’ll tolerate. Hank you can have my books. Except Moby Dick. Send that to old Joe on Herikal. He was looking for a copy.”
He pulls a thin book out of a draw, and stares at it. “Yeah…I guess I should give you this.” He looks at the camera, sitting down, leaning forward, a little too much, taking another pull from the bottle before he speaks. “This is important right. As soon as you can, head out of the sector. I’d say you have a month if you’re lucky after they get me, so don’t hang around.” He holds up the book. “I wrote it all in here, so they won’t know about it, but it’s got everything I remember in it. I doubt it’s changed. They don’t do change.
“I’m leaving it with you guys, so you know what ships to avoid. Don’t try anything stupid, like going up against them. Hah! That’s a thought isn’t it? The four of you storming the flagship, guns blazing, and we take over, and I actually own the fleet, instead of being a useless figurehead, with whatever wits they leave me. God, that would be something.” He goes silent for a moment, a grin on his face; one they all recognise as the signal a particularly mad plan was about to be put into action.
He shook his head, the serious look, back on his face, spoilt slightly by how far to the left he was leaning now. “Ignore that. It’s insane. Just do what I said, and get out of there. Warn people if you must, but don’t let your names get heard, alright? If they realise you’re still around, and know me from before, they won’t stop until they get you.”
He leant back from the chair, staring at the camera. “That’s it, I’d say. Not something I ever planned to record, but with the Amber Shard at the last two ports, best to assume the worst. I should be glad I suppose, they stick to their rules. As long as I don’t make any moves they can claim are me contacting them, they’ll keep their distance. But if it is Aunt… Damn, we are gonna have a rough time of it, if I can’t lose her.”
He shook himself, putting the empty bottle on the table, after only two attempts. “Right that’s enough, or I’ll get all maudlin. Can’t have that, if this is the last you see of me. As me at least. I want you guys to know, it’s been a blast, seriously. Never thought when I skipped ship on that rock, and bought the Siren’s Song that I’d have such an awesome crew as you guys. Shame it can’t last. Eric, save message and link to sensor, Shard 1.”
The video cuts out on Ash falling sideways, asleep, as the Siren’s Song’s computer followed the command, to stop the recording and link it to the sensor. The one that was triggered by whatever Lucy had just jettisoned off the ship. The four remaining crew of the Siren’s Song stared at the screen for a moment, in silence. It hadn’t been said yet, but it was obvious what would happen next. Once they fixed whatever the Amber Shard had done to disable their engines, they were giving chase, and getting Captain Ash d’Wit back.
In the Narrative Archive
Melir looked down at the sorry state of an unconscious man lying in the aisle of space-based science fiction novels, and scratched his chin. He listened to the end of the tale of Ash’ dWit, and nodded.
“That sounds like you, given the lightning bolt earring, even if you are in a scorched space suit, and not the outfit in the story. Well, time to go back.” He held out a hand, and a slim volume drifted into it from one of the shelves. Melir opened it out towards the person and waited. Nothing happened.
Melir scrunched his forehead. “That’s odd. Things normally go back in to their worlds without issue, even when the story is a different time period. Hmm.” He looked around, a little bewildered. The figure on the ground groaned slightly., but didn’t move.
“Ah, you’re waking up. I can’t have another Mayrel situation, when she isn’t here. Mardnab would never shut up about it. Let’s put you somewhere, away from any books until she returns. She’ll know what to do.”
He thought for a moment, and then crooked a finger towards the ground. A room rose out of the ground around Ash d’Wit, already prepared with a bed underneath him, a table with a large stack of biscuits, and a coffee pot; but rather lacking in the door, window, or lights department.
“I can’t leave you any books, in case you jump into them but I will leave you three of my readers to keep you company.”
A very groggy Ash opened his eyes, as the whispers of three separate re-tellings of unconnected story began above his head. “What… Where am I? I’m dead, aren’t I?”
“Don’t be silly, you can’t die here,” replied Melir, from beyond the walls surrounding Ash. “Just lie down, and relax. Listen to some stories. Mardnab will explain everything when she gets back.”
Melir bounded off through the stacks, back to his stories, confident he handled that well. Behind him, an increasingly bewildered space captain, trapped in a box with a trio of incomprehensible voices, clutched at his head, as he tried to work out how getting shot by a raider landed him in a sealed room.
Thanks for Reading! This one feels a little disjointed, with a lot not said, but hopefully it works. I do intend to do both the before and after for this; I have some ideas for the Siren’s Song, but that would be too long a piece to fit in around the Narrative Archive portions, and will get added to the ever-growing ideas pile.
