CHAPTER IV
TRUCE SEAPORT

SOUNDTRACK- Truce Seaport
        Successfully sneaking out of the train-station, Janus, Audrey, and Abant laid eyes on the crowded and cluttered streets of Truce Seaport. Everywhere they looked, there were people like Abant walking around. They weren’t necessarily dressed in mage-attire (more like tunics and leather jackets), nor were they all rabbit-human crossovers. But the one similarity they shared with Abant was that they consisted of a huge variety of animal-human hybrids that populated the entire town. Rarely would one see a pure human here.
        Most hybrids were pilots who had their own aqua-hovercrafts used to transport cargo between Truce and Vista Seaports. Other hybrids ran the town, the taverns, the entertainment, and so on... Among the various hybrids that filled the brick streets, there were small reptilian rat-like creatures that skuddled about, up to their usual mischief. When Janus, Audrey, and Abant came into town, the little creatures were stealing bread from the local baker. A multitude of robots of various shapes and sizes populated Truce Seaport as well. Gigantic dinosaur-like animals and the horse sized zarks were being ridden throughout the town, and on them were hybrids holding the leather harnesses tight.
        It was getting dark, and the lights within the huts became illuminated. The huts looked like the hulls of old wooden boats, flipped over. Long half-oval domes scattered all across the Seaport. They not only housed hybrids and robots, but were bars, stables, shops, and inns.
        The three stopped at Truce Tavern and proceeded inside- nestled by the nearby docks, overlooking the beautiful Hataric Ocean at sunset. He found himself in a bar full of these hybrids. They were all sharing stories, making deals, or simply relaxing over fresh drinks. Abant walked up to the bar and asked if he could get three rooms for the night. Janus and Audrey were particularly nervous, for they had to confront an extensively round and gruff hybrid. He seemed like he was a cross between a human and an elephant.
        “May we have three rooms?” Abant asked.
        “What?” the hybrid gruffly said, leaning onto the bar and sticking a lit cigar into his mouth.
        “We need three rooms,” Abant repeated.
        “Oh,” the elephant hybrid nodded. “That’ll be one hundred and fifty gold: you gonna take it or leave it, bub?” Puffs of rich cigar smoke left his mouth.
        Even though Abant thought the price was ridiculous, he reached into a leather sack of gold he had and set out two hundred in coins for the old hybrid. “Thanks, bub. Name’s Wally, and if any you three be needin’ anything, you come to big Wally, and I’ll see what I can do.”
        Wally handed Abant the keys to the rooms with his bulky elephant hands. Audrey took hers, turning in early for the night. She was exhausted. Janus and Abant sat down at the bar.
        “Can you tell me one thing?” Janus asked Abant.
        Janus cleared his throat and leaned next to the old rabbit-man. He softly spoke, “Am I crazy, or are there creature-people walking around this Seaport?”
        Wally leaned back and belched a great laugh. He returned to Janus with an amused tone in his voice. “A hundred years ago, the Newborn Curse was cast. Does that ring a bell?” Wally coughed.
        “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
        “The war?”
        “Curse? You’re talking fantasy.”
        Wally leaned back up and began wiping an empty mug with a towel. “Fantasy?!? Tell that to seven hundred and fifty hybrids in this seaport alone! When the Mage-War was fought with magic, how could you avoid curses?!?”
        Janus’s jaw dropped. “Mage-War?” he repeated. He thought a little longer. “Magic?”
        Abant replied, “Four-hundred years ago, everyone could use magic. And there was no one like us- strictly humans and animals, nothing in between! Legend has it people kept abusing the power of magic, so Vako, who gave magic to humans, said only one kingdom could use it. Every kingdom on the planet engaged in war. The world was at an age of darkness as the ultimate war over magic, while using magic, began.”
        “Go on,” Janus said.
        “The Newborn Curse marked the end of the Mage-War as everyone became terrified of magic’s ultimate power. No one is sure who cast the spell. A hundred years ago, 1053, every newborn of that year would come into the world as a hybrid. I’m near the end of my days. Some hybrids even have had children!”
        “You’re a hundred years old?” Janus’s jaw dropped again, as Wally laughed.
        “Most hybrids are.” Wally caughed on some cigar smoke. He then smiled at its flavor. “Part of the curse was extended life so we would have to suffer longer.”
        “You mean you guys hate extended life?!? It’s the suffering?” Janus asked.
        Wally poured Janus and Abant a shot of some strong drink. Abant declined, but Janus took the small glass full of a clear liquid. Wally rubbed his wisker-mapped chin on his flabby elephant skin
        “Yep,” he said, replying to Janus’s question.
        “How'z come you never heard of this before?” Wally asked. Janus threw back his head, pouring down the shot. He slammed the glass back onto the counter and wheezed. “Strong stuff, eh bub?”
        “My name is Janus.” He held up the glass, silently asking for another shot. “Of course, I heard of this war, but never have I heard it had anything to do with magic or hybrids or a curse!”
        “You’re from Antilia, right?” Janus nodded to Wally’s question after he drank the other shot. “No one really wants to remember the ‘war’, so when they talk about it, they speak very vaguely. It was a terrible time, let me tell you! We talk about it freely here, because we kinda hold a direct relationship with that darned thing!”
        “But that isn’t the truth. That’s where Intarma became successful,” Abant declared.
        “Whaddya sayin’, bub?” Wally asked.
        “Intarma rewrote history in the memory of all. In reality, they were the ones that lead the world into the war. They, with Mensa, abused magic. At the end, even they couldn’t take it. So they decided to replace everyone’s memory of the horrible war of magic with a war of something much simpler. They did it with a very early version of the DreamSeed technology. However, some, like me, were not effected by the false memories Intarma would broadcast from their DreamSeed radio towers.”
        “Whatever,” Wally said, dismissing Abant’s explanation as if it was pure nonsense.
        “My grandfather, Winston, fought in the war,” Janus said. “But that was long ago, near its end. He was brutally and ruthlessly murdered in cold blood by some Mensan.”
        Abant looked down at the table. “He was a mage.”
        The plump bar-tender handed Janus another drink. “What about your pa?” Wally asked.
        Janus took the drink down with greater ease, but still wincing. “My mother died when she drank water from a contaminated river. Father became outraged, not only because of mother’s death, but something else on top of that. It also must have reminded him of Grandfather’s death, and he left me all alone, while he went to avenge it.”
        “Is that were you’re armor and sword are from?” Abant asked as Wally lit another cigar.
        “A long time ago, Grandfather’s war-equipment was sent back to our family, to inform us of his death. My father couldn’t wear the suit his father died in to avenge his death, but I feel I should wear it.”
        “What sense does that make?” Wally said after he belched.
        “None, really.” Janus threw back another shot. “I just feel like he’s with me when I wear this suit and hold the sword, that’s all.”
        “You have no idea.” Abant said, staring down at the glossy bar.

SOUNDTRACK- Fox Sage
        After Janus had retired to his room, and about two hours of searching, Abant finally found someone. The old hybrid introduced himself as he sat at a round table in a low-lit corner of the tavern.
        Seated on the other end of the small table was a hybrid with a fox’s features. As Abant sat down, the fox-hybrid was burying his small, black nose into the leather of his worn jacket. “You just can’t beat the smell of leather!” The fox-man smiled, looking up as he noticed Abant.
        Not only did the look on this hybrid’s face come off as sly, but very self-confident at the same time. “Hi! I’m Fox Sage,” he said, extending his paw to shake Abant’s. “I hear you need a lift across the Hataric Ocean...I’m heading to Vista Seaport, ‘cause I’m going to win the contest!” the pilot stuck his black nose up high with a huge grin under it as he pointed to himself with pride.
        “What contest?” Abant’s rabbit ears had risen a little.
        “Well, let me clue you in on just how good of a pilot your going to be getting.” The cocky Fox Sage leaned forward with a grin so big, he was either good or thought he was good. “I’ve placed in the top ten rankings of the last race. Second, actually.” Fox nodded his head, expecting Abant to automatically be impressed.
        “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, Fox.” The old hybrid rubbed the white hair of his chin.
        “Where have you been the last three days?” Fox smacked both of his paws on the table top. “My ship, the Thunder Serpent, and I just placed third in the last race!” Fox paused again.
        Abant still had a blank look on his aged face. “I thought you placed second...”
        “That’s what I said. Anyway, there’s a contest to see who is the best pilot in the world! You obviously don’t know why, rabbit, so let me enlighten you- some guy, who they call The Crafter, has his own island and invents things all day. Well...” Fox leaned forward. “He has spent the last year on the first-ever...airship. There’s going to be a race at the Vista Seaport to see who is worthy of piloting her on her maiden voyage. Let me remind you, rabbit, I placed second in the last contest. Its all a tournament that’s been leading up to this- three days from now, and that airship will be mine!”
        “We don’t want to wait three days, we want to go tomorrow morning.”
        The skeptical Fox Sage rubbed his reddish-orange fur. “Who’s we?”
        “A woman, a man, and myself.”
        “Humans?” Fox Sage leaned back in his chair and smiled, “How’re planning on paying me, rabbit?”
        “…”
        The cocky hybrid instantly laughed, “I’m the third…er, second best pilot in the world, so far, anyway. I plan to be the best, you know, and you expect to have the services of such a great pilot for free?!? Heck, I wouldn’t even stoop that low!”
        “I have magic,” Abant quietly said.
        “What?” Fox snapped his head, locking his brown eyes onto Abant’s hazel ones. “What did you say, rabbit?”
        Abant repeated what he just said, “I have magic.”
        “Really? Not that I care...” Fox shrugged off any sign of intrigue he held with magic. “I’m perfectly happy with the way I am. I like being a fox! I think...I know I look good- the ladies are all over me! I don’t need magic. I heard about you guys. You’re with Revenant, that group that still knows magic. The only people in the world that knows magic. All the hybrids talk about Revenant, because they’re interested in seein’ what they really look like.”
        “You don’t have to use it to restore your human form, you can just...” Abant leaned forward. “...pick up a few...tricks?” he then leaned back.
        “Tricks like what?”
        Abant pointed to the mug Fox had been drinking from. “Tricks like this.” The blue liquid inside began crystallizing as the glass of the mug was fogging up.
        “How did you do that?” Fox said, astonished. He picked up the mug, only to find it hurt his paw it was so cold. The liquid inside had completely solidified. The mug had cold steam flowing from it.
        “Would you like to learn magic like that in exchange for your services?” Abant offered.
        Fox was sitting there, wide-eyed and a little frightened. “Yeah, sure,” he paused. “That kind of stuff could’ve save my rear a few times between me and Inspector Acano.” Fox leaned back, thinking of all of the times the inspector had tried to catch him. Fox Sage’s daring escapes from Acano’s grasp would have been so much more fun if he knew magic...
        Fox smiled as he shook hands again with Abant. “Meet me tomorrow morning at dock twenty-three.”
        “Right.”

SOUNDTRACK- Haunting
        The Crafter slept in his large, soft bed like a baby. The wooden door swung open, SE3-V0 bursting into his room. His deep robot voice shouted, “Hmmzt. Sir, four large hovercrafts are entering the proximity of our island!”
        The round man shot up in his bed, running out of the room with his pajama’s still on. He grabbed a candle and headed outdoors. The Crafter bolted across the dew-covered grass in the nighttime to another nearby building. Inside he called to an additional robot of his. “MDX-89!”
        The head of robot sprang upward. “Sir!” MDX-89 looked like a skeleton frame of sleek metal.
        “Analysis of island’s proximity!”
        The robot plugged a cord into his head. The wire lead up to the roof and into a scanning dish. The dish on the roof spun, scanning the area around the large island. “Twelve Mensan GALL-Battletanks, sir and a distant GALL-Warship. The warship isn’t moving towards us, but the battletanks are. I would speculate that the warship deployed the battletanks from its hangars.” The electronic voice of MDX-89 replied. “Thermal scanning shows soldiers inside the battletanks, all armed with...Intarma 23 Siefer Class ion blasters.”
        The Crafter’s mouth dropped, as he slowly whispered to himself. “Not Mensa, anything but Mensa!” He turned to SE3-V0 who was standing in the doorway behind him. “Announce Emergency Plan 2.” The Crafter said with great sorrow.
        The robot was stunned. “Hmmzt. 2?”
        “You heard me!” The Crafter shouted back in a burst of rage. His angered expression on his face quickly fell as he realized his temper was erratic.
        The robot saluted. “Hmmzt. Sir!” He then ran out the door. The robot activated his megaphone voice, emitting a siren from his speakers behind his gate-like mouth. The specific siren indicated Emergency Plan 2 to all of the robots. They instantly activated, knowing exactly what to do.
        Eventually, the hovercrafts came up to the beach and deactivated their drives. Dozens of Mensan soldiers began pouring out of the vehicles. The Crafter’s eyes widened when he watched Jonnan step out, soldiers pouring out around him.
        Jonnan’s white trench coat fluttered in the wind as he causally approached the Crafter, who was already surrounded by soldiers. Each wore an Intarma 23 Siefer Class ion blaster, a black full-face gas mask with respirator and “in-cheeck” filters, an airtight infrared visor, state-of-the-art plastic alloy armor plating, and thick black leather gloves and boots. They also seemed to wear life support systems on their chests.
        Jonnan removed his narrow, rectangular sunglasses with blue lenses and smiled. “Orders from the kaiser of Mensa, himself.”
        The Crafter frowned. “What orders, Jonnan? I demand to know. This time, you’ve gone too far!”
        “We need your airship to assist us in maintaining the blockade.”
        “I don’t have it anymore, Jonnan.” A grin came about on his large face. “But I do have something for your soldiers...” He snapped his fingers and suddenly dozens of robots came rushing at the Mensan troops with plasma blasters mounted on their robotic limbs. Kaiser Vincent’s soldiers were dropping like flies. The blasts the soldiers fired at the robots would do great damage, but robots have no sense of pain. They kept fighting. The ion beams that missed their target would ignite grass into long strips of tall flames.
        Jonnan walked up to the Crafter as the battle around them raged on. Out of the corner of his eye, Jonnan caught the aircraft fly off to the midnight horizon. The Intarma scientist turned back to the plump man. “No, Crafter...” Jonnan pulled his huge RC-P53 from under his white trench coat and held its tri-blaster barrels at the Crafter’s sweat drenched forehead. “...this time you are the one that has gone too far.” Jonnan lifted his blaster and struck the Crafter on the head, knocking him out.
        “But you’re too valuable to die.”
        Jonnan called his troops back, and they left the burning island. The robots rushed at the departing GALL-Battletanks, firing plasma bolts at them. When they all left, several robots gathered around their maker. The Crafter laid unconscious in the grass.