by T. R. Harris
“Where is Panur?” Stimmel asked. “I thought he was coming, too.”
Lila stared at him with unblinking dark eyes. The Director had ordered the invasion of the mutant’s laboratory and stolen not only three dark matter collectors, but also what they thought at the time was their only example of a Formation disk. Stimmel collapsed under her intense scrutiny and backed away. Sherri smiled. Stimmel was face-to-face with the most powerful being in the galaxy. If she wished to tell him about Panur, she would. Otherwise, back away, Stimmel, Sherri thought. You’re about half a second from experiencing the full wrath and fury of the lovely Lila Bol.
Stimmel’s face went ashen, and he did back away, retreating to a far corner of the common room, leaving the greetings for Lila’s real friends.
Sherri and Riyad rushed to the beautiful, young mutant and hugged her. The passion was from more than just missing her. Mission prospects had just jumped several magnitudes with her appearance. Then Lila moved to Panur. Sherri watched the interaction between her and the figure of TeraDon—as did Stimmel. The pair embraced, but not with undue affection.
“You brought it,” Panur said cryptically to Lila.
She handed the sack to Panur. He turned abruptly and headed aft to one of the staterooms. Sherri saw Stimmel’s eyes follow the mutant with rapt attention. Sherri smirked. The big reveal was about to happen. She had a pretty good idea as to what was in the sack.
A moment later, the grey form of Panur moved up the corridor. Stimmel’s mouth fell open, while Sherri and Riyad laughed out loud. Sherri couldn’t believe the German hadn’t realized the truth long before this. It was satisfying to know he hadn’t.
“I, I don’t understand,” the Director stammered.
Panur was animated, his near-featureless face exhibiting all the emotion of which it was capable. “I feel so much better. Please, my friends, don’t ever let me do that again.”
“And TeraDon?” Lila asked.
“He is intact.” Panur smiled. “Worry not, my love; you will still have your plaything. I just will not be going on any future missions encased in that ridiculous straitjacket.”
Panur looked at Stimmel. The Director recoiled. “And now for you. You have pretended to help us to this point. I want to know why. There is no reason for you to be here. You could have given us the spaceship with the tracking system and remained on Oberqwin. But you insisted on coming, on putting yourself in harm’s way. Why?”
“The weapons … the tracking—”
“We can handle ourselves. You are not known as a fighter. So, why come along to a fight?”
“I don’t know what you’re asking. I came along because I want to help defeat Kanan. Isn’t that enough? We’re all going to die if he’s not stopped.”
“You don’t know that; none of us do. Kanan’s manipulation of existing DNA may take several years, even generations. Your immediate life was not in danger, not after Kanan left Oberqwin.”
“I resent the fact that you’re putting me through this inquisition. I tried to give you the Code device before Kanan got it. I provided the weapons that allowed us to survive in the vault. I think I’ve proven myself in combat and intent. If you don’t want my help, then leave me aboard the ship when you go to the base. Lock me in a stateroom.”
“We will not do that,” Panur stated with finality. “If you wish to assist in combat, then you will be right there with us. I’m not about to leave you aboard the ship. I fear you would have a way of abandoning us. You are going to the surface with us.” The mutant stepped closer to the Director. “And need I remind you that we—Lila and me—are immortal. There is nothing you can do to harm us. I allow you to come along because I’m curious as to what your endgame is. What do you hope to achieve by helping us?”
“I don’t want to harm you, you stupid—” Stimmel cut himself off. He swallowed hard before continuing. “Maybe I just want redemption for what I’ve done to you.”
Panur grinned. “That I very much doubt.”
Chapter 16
Kanan landed his DE starship on a dust-covered metal elevator pad that would move the vessel inside the complex. It was on a ledge on the side of a low-lying, yet jagged mountain range on the desolate planet. Everything outside was a uniform grey with occasional dust-devils stirred up by the thin, lifeless air. To the right of the pad was a long concrete landing that led to an airlock capable of transitioning dozens of troops at a time into the interior. Unfortunately for Adam, no hostage rescue team was coming. He was on his own, and against a machine that had survived over three billion years, including the violent destruction of its homeworld. Gracilian scientists once told him Kanan could be killed, but only by opening up his shell and destroying the electrical components within. That would prove to be near impossible without the opportunity, equipment and know-how, all of which Adam was lacking.
Once the ship was within the ancient Aris base, Kanan’s android exited the vessel and began the long stroll into the interior carrying a silver case, and with Adam trailing behind. It wasn’t prudent to resist. It would also be to no avail. The handful of service modules he had aboard the ship teleported away, leaving just him and the robot walking in silence.
Adam had been to the base before, at the time Summer Rains ingested the essence of J’nae, and when Panur and Lila captured Kracion for the first time. It was a strange homecoming. The complex was huge, but Adam felt he had a pretty good sense of where he was. Kanan was headed for a voluminous, dome-ceiled cavern.
Adam could tell the air inside the facility was new and fresh, having been added to the complex recently since Kanan and his modules didn’t require any. He had to snicker. Keep the Human alive long enough to kill him. That made sense.
When they entered the cavern, memories flooded into Adam’s consciousness. This was the chamber with the hibernation pods for the Aris Technicians. At one time, over a thousand Techs called this home, locked away in their beds, and tasked with maintaining the Grand Experiment for as long as it took. Periodically, a few would awake and set out into the galaxy to check on the progress. After a few years, they would return to their pods for another extended sleep period while others took their place. Adam never knew if the Aris realized at the beginning how long their experiment would take, and over the eons, pods failed, accidents happened, while some of the Aris deserted, choosing to live out their remaining years breathing real air and under the light of distant suns. The Technician class was never part of the Privileged search for immortality. As Kracion once explained, if there were any surplus essence after the Privileged became immortal, it would be doled out to the Techs. But there were no guarantees, never had been. Over time, many of the Techs lost their minds, Kracion foremost among them.
At the time Adam was here last, there were only a little over a hundred of the Techs left, asleep in their pods. That was until Kracion introduced a poison into their units, killing them all.
It also was within this room that Adam fought Kracion in a final, losing battle. If it hadn’t been for Lila and Panur arriving in the nick of time, this cavern would have been the site of his death. Now, the vast central area was filled with equipment of all kinds, showing no rhyme or reason for where things were placed.
He spotted a collection of the silver Gracilian service modules resting obediently on a nearby counter. There were only nine of them. Adam hadn’t seen any others flitting about. Was this all Kanan had left? That was possible. The Gracilians only made as many as they needed to pilot their DE warships, and Adam saw no evidence that Kanan was making more. Most of the units had been destroyed at the battle for Navarus, with more still at Stimmel’s estate. Possibilities began to fill Adam’s mind.
And then off to the left, in the dim recesses of the chamber about forty feet away, Adam noticed a row of cages placed against the rough stone wall. There were creatures in some of them, but most were empty.
The prisoners were Primes, although Adam recognized none of the species. Most were emaciated and filthy, livin
g in excrement. Some were dead, while the others stared at him with vacant eyes. Adam amended his earlier belief that the base had air just for him. It was to keep Kanan’s other test subjects alive.
“Be assured, Adam Cain,” said Kanan’s robot voice from across the room. “You will not share the same fate as the others. I have a particular purpose for you, one for which the others were ill-suited to fulfill.”
And then Adam noticed it, after which nothing else mattered.
He moved around a bank of equipment to get a better look.
It was the completed Formation, looking infinitely more impressive than the tiny module Panur had in his workshop. It stood about twelve feet high and consisted of a spiraling column made up of exquisite metal holders for dozens of disks. Most were offset and wound around a central pole forming layers, separated by four inches or more between wafers. Each filter was connected to the one above and below by dozens of thin filaments that were aglow with an inner light, looking to be fiberoptic. Adam could make out the darker and thicker master disks—eight of them—that was the crux of the stack, with the thinner, white wafers between them. Most of the intervals between the masters had the maximum nine filter disks, yet, as Panur explained, the combinations were infinite, made so by the slight offset of the filters or a turn of their orientation.
The stack was enclosed in a vacuum chamber and lit by a variety of colored spotlights that focused on different parts of the Formation. Knowing Kanan, the lights weren’t there for aesthetics but served a purpose in the function of the device. It was beautiful, more a work of art than a machine designed to create and manipulate life. The array rested on a broad base with even more tubes, filters and flasks underneath to catch the finished product in a sterile environment. Atop the structure was a mechanical delivery system for moving material from floor level to the top of the stack where the distillation process would begin.
“Since the system is gravity-driven, the run time is much slower here than on my homeworld,” Kanan said from his seat. “A complete transition takes about fifteen standard minutes for base materials, and up to two hours for a more complex sample. Stack orientation and height is controlled by computer. With the Code device, I will be able to make adjustments in a fraction of the time and with guaranteed results.”
Adam walked back to the robot. He was sitting at a desk, with the silver case open and the Code device on the table.
“How does it work?” Adam asked.
“That I do not know,” said Kanan to Adam’s surprise.
“You don’t know? How can that be?”
“My master and I were not involved in its original operation. That was left to others. You must realize, for the Aris, everything changed when the Formation was discovered. Before then, it was decided that the Aris would use artificial means to achieve a form of immortality. The idea of using mechanical bodies was something of which I was quite familiar. I supported the plan fully, and by converting Aris minds to mechanical consciousness, I would be better suited to assimilate with my makers. Then the discovery occurred, and everything changed. It was not even on Alinsma that it was discovered. It was—”
“Alinsma? What’s that?” Adam asked.
“Of course, you would not know. The ancestral name of my homeworld is Alinsma. After a time, the Aris stopped referring to it by name, preferring the emotions the thought provoked within their minds to that of the spoken word. The name was all but forgotten. But continuing: The Formation was found on a derelict vessel drifting in space near our home system. There were documents aboard that told what it was and what it had done.”
“Create life in the galaxy,” Adam said reverently.
The robot laughed. “That is only partially true. Life in the First Epoch had developed over time and in a haphazard manner, which was anathema to how the Pri thought. As time passed, the Pri sought a more organized and purposeful seeding for the coming Epoch. According to the histories found in the vessel, they selected several master worlds that would develop first and lead the galaxy in further colonizations. The Aris were the last of these races to be created, but it was obvious we were not to be the last.”
“What do you mean? What happened?”
“That is unknown. The records end in mid-stream. Something happened to the Pri and they never completed their First Seeding, as it was called. As you can imagine, the news that the Aris had been manufactured had a major impact on the race. But it did reveal the possibilities. The documents mentioned long-term manipulation, interbreeding, and even the word immortality. Nunki and his cabal latched onto that reference and persuaded the others that creating a natural immortal was possible—even probable—with the proper seeding. And beyond that, the records detailed the distillation process of various organic essences into forms that could be assimilated by others. You know the rest of the story.”
“And you don’t. Like how to use the Code device.”
“I will figure it out. The one thing I do know is that it does not hold a master list of all the possible combinations, as one would assume. It is more of a deciphering device, providing guidance for the desired outcome. I knew this before, and that is why I first attempted to find the key myself. By trying various combinations of filters, I studied the logic of the outcomes. If A + B creates C, then what would A + C create, and so forth. It is quite feasible that I would have eventually discovered the key. But when I learned the Code was still in existence, I chose the simpler path. With this device, I will be able to extrapolate the outcomes in a fraction of the time. There should also be categories within the programming that will hasten my activities even more.”
Kanan looked around at the large cavern. “And that is why I am here, at the ancient Technician base. Within the database of this facility, I learned the combination required to convert a living being into a useable form for assimilation; how to create the necessary essence, as you call it. The Technicians knew the combination, although they did not have the Formation. Before initiating the Experiment, teams were sent to thousands of worlds to collect samples of primitive life. Afterward, formulations were developed for each planet. More teams were sent out, supervised by the Privileged, who then introduced the modified material back into the environment. The Privileged kept the formulations to themselves before placing the critical components of the Formation into a secure vessel designed to survive the ages. It was that vessel the Cadonic discovered in the Zaniff Asteroid Field. But they had no concept of what they found, and eventually sold off the pieces.” Kanan placed a robotic hand on the silver box. “With this, all the pieces are back together. Including the most important ingredient I need for my purposes.”
“And what’s that?”
“Aris DNA.”
Adam looked off into the darkened tunnels leading away from the central area of the cavern, and the rows of hiberpods where the dead Aris Technicians lay in state, and undoubtedly perfectly preserved by the sterile chambers.
“You need Aris DNA?”
“Technically, I do not. But I do not have billions of years to grow another Aris race from primal elements. Using the most advanced DNA available, I can create the Aris essence instantly, once I have the formula from the Code device that will stimulate regrowth. What will follow is a seeding of the galaxy to begin the process of converting all advanced life into Aris. And you, Adam Cain, will be the first.”
Adam was afraid he was going to say that.
“You must understand that the Human race is unique in the galaxy. Your species is what Nunki and his Privileged call a catalyst race, who’s contribution to the galactic gene pool is necessary to create the next stages in evolution. The Formilians are another such race, and so it was no surprise that the pairing of a Human with a Formilian produced the Apex Being. That was how the Grand Experiment was designed.” The android smiled. “You did not think your special attributes came purely from chance and evolution, did you?” He shook his head. “Humans were engineered, following a strategy the Pri devised billions of
years ago to create master classes of races. The Aris followed that plan, as well. And here we are. What I have planned for your body is to see if I can create not only a living Aris but a greater Aris, a super Aris. If I am successful, then Earth—followed by Formil—will be the first worlds I infect with the Aris virus.”
“You do realize that no matter what you do, you will never become a living Aris yourself. You will always be just a machine, a servant to biologics, as you call us.”
“I know you are trying to provoke me, but it will not work. For it is you who are mistaken. I have a consciousness—albeit electronic. But I have a way of infusing my electronic consciousness with the living mind of a biologic. Technically, I will be a hybrid and one of a kind. But I will survive within a living body, experiencing all that entails.”
“Why the hell would you want to do that? It’s no fun being alive.”
“I seek the sensations of living.” The robot stretched out a wide grin. “And if I discover that you are correct—and that living is not fun, as you call it—I will simply revert to a mechanical body. To me, that is my natural state of being.”
Kanan turned back to the desk and the Code device. “Now, leave me alone as I begin the process. If you behave, I will not place you in one of the cages. That would be such demeaning treatment for the person who will become the first of the next generation of Aris, or super-Aris.”
Chapter 17
The DE ship carrying the assault team landed beyond the ledge leading into the Aris base. Panur and Lila watched the meters for any indication of active monitoring on the surface that would reveal their landing. At one time, there were several such detectors. Now, there were none. None they could detect.
They went in assuming they’d been spotted, wearing environmental suits and carrying a variety of weapons, including a combination of both the Gracilian’s cathode devices, conventional flash weapons and even ballistics in the form of a shotgun for Riyad and a .45-caliber semi-automatic for Sherri. They also wore improvised diffusion vests that would protect them against some of the intense electrical shock of the orb’s weapons. The vests were untested, but having been built by the mutants, they would work, guaranteed.
