by Ramy Vance
Anabelle rubbed her temples and frowned. “This makes no sense. There’s no reason for the arena. It…it goes against all reason. They aren’t choosing a chief, and orcs haven’t shown any cultural interest outside of the Dark One since that asshole appeared.”
Creon had already turned back to his computer. “Interesting, but it doesn’t help us at the moment. We need to figure out how to make sure Terra survives the next fight. That is unless you’re planning on making a human snuff film.”
Anabelle chuckled and said, “Not really my kind of movie. I’ll see you guys in a little bit. I need to clear my head.”
And with that, Anabelle glided out of the room. Or at least Abby thought the elf glided. As far as Abby was concerned, Anabelle’s feet never touched the ground. It was as though the elf floated everywhere like an angel.
Once Anabelle was gone, Abby's mind refocused on the mission at hand. She’d already exhausted her one option: using the nanobots. She could reconstruct the bots into another structure, but unless the next creature Terra was up against had the same weakness, it would be pointless.
Abby hated being in the dark. She found it hard to come up with ideas when the problem wasn’t even known. Usually, it wasn’t too much of a problem. Sometimes pressure made Abby work better. But this was the first time a human life depended on her. Abby wasn’t sure if this was the kind of pressure she could deal with.
Anabelle’s room wasn’t too far from Abby’s. She was grateful Myrddin believed she was too high maintenance to share the barracks with the recruits, and maybe she was. Anabelle didn’t care either way, though. A room to herself was a godsend.
The room was decorated modestly by anyone’s standards—a chair, a dresser, a table, and a bed. The most ornate aspect of the room was an elvish rug that was spread out in front of the bed, a relic from a past Anabelle was still trying to remember.
That was what Anabelle needed time for. Memory upon memory had been forgotten over the years. Memories that Anabelle desperately needed. Nothing was really forgotten, though, only covered up. She had to start the task of uncovering.
Anabelle sat on her bed, thinking through Terra’s situation. There was only so much she could do. Her plan for getting the humans on board with the war seemed to be working. But she didn’t want to use Terra like a pawn. That felt cruel. Yet that was all it seemed she could do.
Anabelle changed from her uniform to the traditional robe of a Traveler. It was decorated with elvish runes that told stories of Travelers of the past. Some of them were still alive. The smart ones, at least. Those who walked away from the Path and had gone on to live their lives.
And here Anabelle was, trying to get back on the Path. Most of the surviving Travelers would have laughed at her. Why throw away a good life? It wasn’t as though Myrddin was starving for more elves to join the war effort. Every elf who could fight was already doing everything they could.
Something in Anabelle wanted to walk the Path again. Maybe it was the desire to prove she was more than a pretty face. Or it could be because she had never had the chance to test her abilities. She’d been one of the few Travelers to have been trained but never utilized.
There was a well of knowledge in her that had never been used. Now she worried the well had gone dry. That she was only a pale shadow of what a Traveler was capable of.
Anabelle knelt on the rug and touched her head to the floor. A Traveler was supposed to be more than just a warrior. They were supposed to have learned from the Path, to be capable of sharing their wisdom with the world.
For thousands of years, Travelers had been fearsome foes on the battlefield, not only because of their combat prowess but because of their tactics, their wisdom. Anabelle sorely needed that wisdom right now.
Eyes closed, she let herself drift into the darkness of meditation. This is where she would find what was lost in the darkness within her.
The monitors in Abby’s and Creon’s lab were tuned to various news channels. Everyone on Earth was talking about Terra’s most recent battle. The opinions were mixed. Some were caught up in Terra’s heroic exploits. Others were fear-mongering.
Fear made sense to Abby. She’d never seen anything like a balrog outside of movies. She was surprised more people weren’t assuming that the battle at the coliseum was anything other than a marketing ploy from a movie studio.
It may have had something to do with the lingering video of Terra’s broken body. Nothing about her condition was entertaining. More videos were being played of her injuries than of the battle.
People were taking to the streets. There were already protests and rallies, all with a different nature. Some wanted to find Terra as fast as possible through whatever means necessary. These people didn’t know how it would happen, but they knew it should.
Other protests were more focused. There were those who had figured out that there were people who knew about this threat. There had to be for someone to have broadcast the feed. And protestors were pissed at the establishment for keeping this knowledge from them. They claimed it was their right to know about this a long time ago.
Abby thought Anabelle’s plan was working solidly. It might have unforeseen ramifications, but the people of Earth were talking. More importantly, they were believing.
None of that solved the issue standing in the room like an unwanted elephant. Creon and Abby had hardly talked since Anabelle had left. The obvious reason was that neither of them knew what they were going to do to help Terra. “Do we even know where she’s at?” Abby voiced her thoughts.
Creon swiveled his chair to face Abby. “Not certain,” he said. “But we could probably figure it out. There are only so many worlds and realms.”
“Creon. You told me there are nine realms. If each realm had a minimum of a million planets…I mean, it’s simple math, you know?”
Undeterred, Creon replied, “We could figure it out. Our computers could probably do that computation in…two weeks? But Terra would have to survive until then. We’d be able to send ships, though. Yes, maybe we should concentrate on getting our troops over there…find a way to—”
“Wait. Just basic computation, right? To figure out where she is, I mean.”
Creon gnawed on a pen with his sharp teeth. “Theoretically. We’d cross-reference the list of habitable planets in each realm. Then reference that to planets that have seen significant orc traffic. Then pinpoint which planets have three suns and a desert. Maybe go through any relevant reports written over the last few months. But to answer your question, it’s just a lot of computation.”
Abby snapped her fingers as she raised her watch. “Then we got this,” she said as she turned it on. A projection of Martin floated in front of her. “Hey, Martin, can you help us?
Martin sipped from his cup and stretched his paperclip body out until it was straight. “Seeing as how I only exist to assist you, I don’t see what else I could possibly do. D’ya want me to file some paperwork for you? Oh, you know what would be a better use of my advanced computing abilities? Finding the meaning of life for an AI that has already solved the meaning of life for organics. Spoiler: it’s pretty fucking boring.”
Abby pointed to the holoprojector, which was displaying the arena Terra had been fighting in. “Bet you can’t find that planet?” Abby challenged. “Even with that big ‘ol brain of yours.”
“I don’t have a brain. I have a complex set of algorithms constantly updating with every bit of information in my greedy little path. Do you have any other information than the picture?”
“Whatever information is in the HQ’s mainframe. Don’t know what’s relevant, though. Sounds kinda hard, right?”
Martin resumed his paperclip shape and smiled for the first time. “Sounds tough as hell. I’m on it.”
The AI disappeared with a dramatic flash. Abby didn’t remember giving Martin any exiting animations. Guess the little guy was adding quirks to his personality. Abby hoped he’d eventually add some class.
Creon st
ood over the drones, stroking his wispy goatee. “You know, we do have long-distance teleportation pads. We can’t use them for anything with organs or hair. You know, that kind of thing. But we’ve used them to teleport supplies between the realms before.”
Abby strode over to the drones and ran her hands across their sleek steel. “Thinking what I’m thinking?” she asked.
“All we need is an address. The drones are kinda large, though. Might be a problem.”
Abby was only half-listening. She crouched and stared into the small vat of nanobots rolling around beneath the drones. “These guys are pretty small. We could send a tracker with more nanobots…and I have an idea. A pretty good one.”
Martin popped up on the holoprojector, floating around in the arena. “All right, it’s way, way outside of the space regulated by the anti-magic wave. It’s in Persion 24b, on planet Alpha Spartacus 523. Anything else?”
Relief warmed Abby’s body as she said, “Didn’t think you were that fast!”
“While I was searching, I stumbled across a couple of discarded plans for AIs in the HQ’s system. Also, Myrddin’s private files. That guy has weird interests. Never seen so many orc feet in my life. Anyways, I took the liberty of upgrading myself. Can’t be too smart. I mean, I can’t ever be too smart. You two probably have some kind of intelligence cap.”
“All right, I got it. You’re a genius. Find the coordinates and prep the hadron collider for a small delivery within the next two hours.”
Martin raised his cup, and coffee poured from above his head into the cup. “Just to let you know, that violates about fifteen rules. Which means I obviously want to do it.”
Abby gave Martin a puzzled look as she said, “Oh, I’m sorry, were you speaking binary?”
Martin chuckled and downed his coffee. “I like where this is going. The collider is prepped, and I’ve calibrated it so that the excess energy doesn’t show up on any of the grids. We going to keep breaking rules?”
Abby pointed at Martin and then turned to include Creon. “Just don’t tell me ‘bout them ‘til I’m done breaking ‘em,” she replied.
Martin rubbed the ends of his paperclip body together. “Abby, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. One to last through all the ages. A thousand ages. Or at least until you die. At which I will be heartbroken. Really messed up. For a long time. Thousands of years, maybe. I don’t know. I haven’t had to process anything other than irritation yet. Oh, wait. That was joy. That’s a good one.”
Martin blipped out of sight. Guess we’re friends now, Abby thought as she dipped her hand into the vat of nanobots. Now that that’s taken care of, time to get to work.
Chapter Four
Darkness surrounded Anabelle. Occasionally, flashes of light illuminated scenes from her past. Fuzzy. Indecipherable. It was like swimming to the bottom of a black lake filled with glowing fish reflecting moonlight that should have been lost.
Anabelle reached out to each flash of memory, but they were too far. Her hands caught nothing. She continued to dive. There must be an end to it. Deeper, and deeper still.
There was nothing.
The ringing of an alarm brought Anabelle out of her meditation. She jerked her head up, losing her balance from the blood surging to her head. Dizzily, she grabbed her comm, which she had placed next to her bed. “What’s going on?” she murmured.
Roy’s voice greeted her. It was hardly a warm greeting, though. He sounded annoyed and slightly panicked. “Where are you?” he asked. “We’ve been trying to get in touch with you for nearly half an hour.”
“Training. What is it?”
“A new Dark Gate opened. We’re mobilizing. Blackwell’s team should be ready to move out by now.”
Anabelle’s skin prickled at hearing the squad called Blackwell’s. Sure, the man was capable, but he wasn’t the one leading the team. “Last time I checked, Myrddin put me in charge of them,” she retorted.
“Chain of command, darling. Don’t take it too seriously. You’re at the top and in charge of two squads. Not that this is the time for an argument about hierarchy, but you’re leading two squads now. So, don’t get your knickers all in a tussle.”
Anabelle wished she could have punched Roy. Even though he was pretending to take the high road, he had made a point to say “Blackwell’s squad” to get under her skin. It was his way of teasing. It drove her crazy. “All right, I’ll meet them down in the barracks.”
Roy shook his head. “No time. What’s the range on the colliders? Can we get to the gates?”
“You know damn well the colliders can be used to get around the planet as well as a few limited spots in the nine realms.”
“Good, then hit the collider. We gotta get there as soon as possible. Reports say the Gate is going to be opening in the hour.”
Anabelle switched to her Traveler uniform, a modest one-piece suit that gave ample protection from blades and magic due to the exquisite elvish design. Only a few had ever been made, and Anabelle owned at least ten of them. “What about Terra?” she asked. “What’s going on with her?”
Roy sighed, obviously annoyed with the stream of questions. “Touched base with Abby,” he replied. “She said that they have everything covered. Something about a surprise. But she’s your department. If you want to hear it from her, that’s another way we can waste time.”
“Fuck off. I’ll be at the collider. You coming for this one?”
“Nope. This is all you. I have other shit to take care of. Equally important, if you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t.”
Anabelle slipped out of her room as Roy said, “Wouldn’t have it any other way. Stay safe, darling.”
Blackwell and the other recruits were lined up at the hadron collider, waiting for Anabelle. They looked like they were ready for inspection.
Anabelle still wasn’t certain how she was supposed to be treating the recruits. Blackwell was at least competent, but the other three didn’t seem to have any personality. Not that Anabelle was there to get to know each of them personally. But their training was her responsibility.
A flash from Anabelle’s meditation: an old elf sitting by a campfire. He was speaking, his words long and drawn out, waving elaborate watercolor paintings with his hands. “The torrent of rain does nothing,” he says. “The steady sprinkle erodes mountains. Mist does nothing but look pretty.”
Anabelle stopped midstride, caught off-guard by the distinct and vivid memory. “Huh,” she muttered as she approached the recruits.
Blackwell stepped forward and saluted Anabelle. “Ready for deployment,” he shouted.
Anabelle covered her sensitive ears, unprepared to have excitement barked at her. “All right, kids, I know I’ve been harsh on you,” she said. “Extremely harsh. But that’s only because I don’t want to see you dead. The last run we went on, you did great. You know what worked?”
Jones, the smallest of the recruits, poked his head out of the line. “We followed your orders?”
“Flattering, but only partially true. You work well as a team. I only gave you a general idea of what to do. Keep that in mind. Communicate with each other. Don’t rely on me to tell you everything to do. Trust each other. Trust yourselves. Got it?”
The recruits, along with Blackwell, shouted, “Sir, yes, Sir!”
The scaffolding beneath them shook as the hadron collider powered up, preparing to send them to the burgeoning Dark Gate. As Anabelle walked over to the collider’s control, she overheard two of the scientists who were running the machine talking about an odd spike in energy. It seemed the collider had already been prepped for a teleport. Anabelle made a mental note to check on that.
A portal opened before Anabelle and her squad. “You guys have your backup proton packs?” she asked.
Blackwell held his up for Anabelle to see.
“Good. Let’s go shut down this Gate.”
Excitement Land was aptly named. The amusement park was one of the largest in the
United States. It had no other purpose than excitement. No one was dressed in mascot costumes. There was no attempt to look cute. Excitement Land had only one goal in mind: to excite you.
People traveled from all over the world to spend an afternoon in the park. It boasted the highest and fastest rollercoasters of any amusement park. Patrons had to sign a waiver before they set foot in the park. Not that there had been any deaths, but their commercials included a number of references to heart attacks.
Entertainment, pure and simple. That was why the crowds came, and they never left disappointed. Today wasn’t going to be any different. Each attraction had a line that any sane person would have walked away from, but Excitement Land brought a certain caliber of person to its gates.
Adrenaline junkies. Nothing was fast enough, high enough, until they’d experienced Excitement Land. Sure, people joked about the name, but once you were in the park’s grasp, nothing could top the high you were going to get.
Because of this reason, no one noticed the Dark Gate beginning to materialize at the top of Assisted Suicide, the highest and fastest rollercoaster the park boasted. The riders of the coaster assumed the odd tug they felt in their stomach as they climbed the tallest loop was part of the ride.
No one noticed the hair standing up on the backs of their necks. What else was expected when you were high up enough to see the two states to the east and west?
The hadron collider’s portal opened near the entrance of the park. No one thought twice about it. For all they knew, this was another of the many exciting things the park had in store for them. When Anabelle stepped out, followed by Blackwell and the other recruits, people cheered.
She wondered why the humans were cheering. She was used to being famous but had never had such an immediate response to showing up for a public event. It usually took people a few seconds to recognize her.
