by David Beers
Alistair didn't understand. "Slow down. What are you saying?"
"You have your knights, Pro." Thoreaux flicked his hand toward Caesar. "You're getting your true army now. They saw what you could do—what you did—to the Myrmidon. In this galaxy, and in others, I imagine, the Myrmidons have come and gone with impunity. No one could stop them; no one even dared. You just killed one of the top Myrmidons in the universe, then survived technology meant to poison you. The Terram see that power, and they don't want to end up on the wrong side of it."
He put both hands on Alistair's shoulders.
"It's a miracle, what you've done. Beyond genius. An entire planet has pledged loyalty to you and will do what you want, Pro. We have ships now. If we want to tax them, gods, we could do that too. Do you understand?"
Alistair stared at his lap. This wasn't what he'd wanted at all. He wanted to find his wife, not have vassals and people pledging fealty to him.
"Before you start getting upset that things have changed, you need to think this through, Pro." Thoreaux removed his hands from Alistair's shoulders. "The goal hasn't changed. Death to the Ascendancy. Even with our knights, we're not strong enough to go there. We're not strong enough to face the AllSeer either. You can't challenge every single one of them to a duel until they’re all dead. We will have to find vassals. More of them. Perhaps many more. This is the first. If you ask me, it's sent from the gods themselves."
A lot had happened while Alistair was unconscious. He was being told a lot of things at once, and his original plans seemed like something he'd thought up in another lifetime in the light of what he had learned. Yet, listening to Thoreaux, he thought the man was right.
"Let me ask then, they’ll give us ships?"
"Pretty much anything you ask. It's good to remember history, and an overbearing monarch always risks a revolt. But within reason, they're going to let you have it."
Alistair started to stand, and his legs immediately felt shaky.
"Sit down, Pro," Thoreaux instructed. "What do you need?"
"I need an AI."
"I'm here," came the English accented response from Jeeves. "How can I help?"
A diagram floated through the air until it was on Alistair's left, allowing all three individuals to look at it. It showed was a man dressed in an ancient-looking suit with a monocle in one eye.
"I know you bio-creatures like to think of things in terms of male and female, so I designed this chap while you were dozing, Pro." The little character on the floating screen spoke, but it was the AI's voice everyone heard. "What is it that you need?"
"The gigantes," Alistair began. "Do you know where they're bred? What planet their corporation holds this school on, and how far away it is?"
"Of course, I do," the character said with a grin.
Alistair raised his eyebrows. "Well, would you mind telling me?"
"Of course, I was just waiting for you to ask. The planet is roughly a two-month-long flight."
Thoreaux turned away from the AI's image. "What do you have in mind?"
"I'm curious to know this as well," Caesar said.
"We're going to that planet, and I'm going to free any gigantes. After, those that want to join up with me are welcome, but all are free to do what they want, so long as it isn't continuing to enslave one another."
Thoreaux opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came out. He looked at Caesar, whose mouth was also agape. The giant was staring at Alistair with unadulterated disbelief. "Master," he finally whispered. "That isn't possible. That cannot be done. It is not the way of things. It goes against nature."
Alistair didn't look up as the gigante spoke but kept staring at his lap. This was why he hadn’t involved the giants in his fight against the Myrmidon. He understood they would be needed later and for something perhaps even more important. "This is what I want, Caesar, and it's what we're going to do. If you have objections or do not want to participate, I understand. You’re a free being and can do as you choose, but I'm going to that planet and I'm going to free all those like you. No one will be sold into slavery when I'm finished. Never again."
Caesar was silent. Thoreaux's eyes went from the giant to his leader. "You're serious?" he finally asked.
Alistair looked up. "I'm dead serious. That's where I'm going next. You with me?"
Thoreaux shrugged and looked down at his shoes, grinning. "There are worse things to do than freeing people. I hope the rest of these giants don't smell as bad as Caesar, though, for all of our sakes."
Caesar looked shocked, but Thoreaux glanced up and winked. "Just kidding, big man." He turned to Alistair. "I follow you to the end. You know that. If you say we go free the giants, then we go free the giants."
"And you, Caesar? Are you with me?"
"I'll do whatever you say, Master," the giant responded. Alistair thought he saw something resembling fear on his face, maybe for the first time. Not quite the same as fear, but close—a cousin of it, perhaps. "This is not like before. This is not like the crime lord. My home is a cold place, one that does not allow life to live unless it is strong. Many will die, Master. Many of those you love. It is important to me that you understand this. Those who bred me will do anything to keep what they have. And my kind? They know nothing but to defend that way of life. I will do as you wish, Master, but we will not survive this."
Alistair stood up very carefully, using the giant's massive arm to steady himself. As he stood, he realized how much weight he'd lost since being unconscious. He needed nutrition and exercise, but he'd get those things on their way to this new planet.
He looked the giant in the eyes. "Leave how we survive to me, Caesar. So long as you're with me, that's all I need to know."
"I'm with you, Master," the giant said.
Chapter Seven
Alistair spent the first month of the voyage training. He took it seriously and even asked Linc to travel aboard his dreadnought.
It felt like ages since the two of them had last worked together. When Alistair first started training again, his body was weak and underweight. Within two weeks, he’d regained most of his weight and all of his strength.
He and Linc trained in the dreadnought's war room, and now it was Linc who was on the losing sides of the encounters.
Picking himself up off the floor after their last session, Linc remained on a knee and looked at Alistair. "It's true what they say? Your mind is like the AllMother's?"
Alistair pulled his shirt off, sweat covering his ripped torso. His hulking back was to Linc, and he was quiet while he used his shirt to dry himself.
Linc continued, "I heard that something happened on the planet you were on. I heard it was something pretty outrageous, Pro. Something only the AllMother could have done, and maybe not even her. Is it true?"
Alistair let his shirt drop to his side. He looked down at the floor. "Something happened, yes, but I'm not like the AllMother. She can control her mind, but I..." He turned so that the two faced each other. "I'm not sure I can. Why are you asking, Linc? Are others commenting on it?"
Linc placed his pole across his lap, rubbing one side with his right hand. "I can't say if people are talking about it or not. I stay away from the gossip." He turned his head to the left. "Oh, there he is."
Obs had poked his head into the war room. He saw Linc and immediately padded over to his old owner. Linc scratched behind the drathe's ears while Obs sat down on his hind legs. Linc looked up at Alistair. "I'd also heard that you weren't able to control it like the AllMother."
Alistair raised an eyebrow. "I thought you stayed away from gossip? You're hearing an awful lot for staying so far away from it."
Linc raised a hand in protest. "Woah, woah. I didn't say I stayed far away from it, only that I stayed away. Sometimes it follows me, though."
He stood up, putting one end of his pole on the ground and leaning on it. Obs walked over to his master. "I ask because I might be able to help some with the controlling part. Not a lot. I truly don't un
derstand it, but I understand the mind-body connection well. If you're ever interested, we could sit down and talk about it. See where we can go."
Alistair nodded. He wasn't sure how much he wanted to involve anyone in this, mainly because he didn’t want to be involved with it; he just had no choice. "I'll keep that in mind, Linc."
The trainer nodded and picked up his pole. "I was wrong about you combining the forms, Pro. I honestly didn't think it was possible, but the things you're able to do now surpass anything I've ever seen. I just wanted you to know that I recognize I was wrong."
Alistair nodded. He squatted down and started petting the drathe. "Thanks, Linc. Would you do me a favor? Would you send Caesar in here?"
"No problem, Pro," the trainer said.
Alistair sat down on the floor as Linc left. The drathe sat in front of him, master and subject looking into one another's eyes. "You think Linc can help me figure out my crazy mind?" Alistair asked.
Obs looked out the door from which Linc had left. He stared for a few seconds, then gave a small bark.
"Is that a maybe?"
Obs shoved his big head past Alistair's hands and nuzzled his chin with his snout.
Alistair laughed. "You're a good dog."
The drathe bit his ear lightly in protest.
"Master?" The voice boomed from the door. "You called me?"
Remaining seated, Alistair turned as Obs flopped into his lap, almost causing him to fall over. "Goodness." Alistair shook his head. "He thinks he's a lap drathe or something." He focused his eyes on the giant while he stroked the animal’s fur. "Come on in, Caesar. I wanted to talk to you some while I'm alone."
"Yes, Master," the giant responded before stepping farther into the war room. He and Alistair hadn't practiced together yet, but Alistair thought it might be a good idea soon. The two of them had battled each other and battled together against others, but practicing would give them an edge in what would come next.
Alistair stroked the drathe some more and pointed with his left hand at the space in front of him. "Sit with me for a bit?"
The giant nodded and sat down in front of the man he considered his master. He moved fluidly for someone his size and was able to fold his legs beneath each other. "What would you like to talk about, Master?" he asked in his almost overly formal way.
"Well, I think it's time we talked about this master-servant relationship. Do you know who the first Caesar was? Well, I think he was the first. Do you know why I named you after him?"
The giant shook his head. Such things had never been important to him. He wasn’t supposed to know history, not humanity's or his own. His purpose was simple: to serve those stronger than him.
It was time that changed.
"He was one of the greatest leaders that ever lived. A king-like person that conquered the known world. Caesar served no one but himself."
The giant's eyes widened. "Everyone serves someone."
"Who do I serve?"
The giant was quiet for a second and looked down at Obs. "You serve those beneath you."
"In a way, I guess I do. It's my job to ensure their safety, but if I want to stop doing that, I could. If I reach this planet and say, 'I’m finished,’ no one can stop me. I can walk away at any time. Do you understand?"
Not looking up, the giant nodded.
"Then, Caesar, why can't you? What’s the difference between us that says you can't walk away from something when you want to? Or any of those like you?"
The giant rubbed one of his large hands over the top of his head. His hair was long, and his head was massive and square. Alistair knew such simple questions had never been put to the gigante before.
Caesar looked up. "You," he pointed at Alistair, "are human. I'm not. I was made to serve. Bred to serve. You were made to lead, born from father and mother. That is the difference." He placed his hand back in his lap.
Alistair shook his head. "That's what you were told to think, but it's not true. The people who made you don't have any say over what you do, Caesar. While I respect and love my parents, they have no say over my life. They haven't since I left for the Academy. Only you get to decide your life. How you were born, or where you were born, why would that decide anything?"
"Because they said so," the giant responded, and then Alistair saw understanding in his eyes. Alistair thought the creature was realizing the illogic in the words and seeing they didn't hold up under scrutiny.
"That's right," Alistair said with a nod. "They did say so, and now I'm saying differently. I'm saying that you don't have to listen to me, or them, or anyone else. If you want, right now, you can try to kill me and my pet here."
Obs looked up with surprise on his face.
Alistair smiled and petted the drathe's head. "Of course, I'd rather you didn’t, but you get my point. You aren’t my servant. Not my slave. You’re a free being, a gigante. The first of your kind to be recognized as free." Alistair paused and looked down at the drathe. He knew that what he'd just told the gigante would take time to sink in, but he'd seen the knowledge in his eyes. Once an idea like that set in, it couldn’t be extinguished. The next part of this was just as important as the first. Both for Caesar and himself, as well as his movement. "You can follow me or you can go your own way, Caesar. However, I don't know how many of you there are. I'm going to find out soon. I do know that every single one of them thinks as you do, or did. Every gigante that has been bred considers himself a servant or a slave."
He looked up.
"They don't have to. You can change their minds. Not just those on this ship who look at me as their master, but the ones on the planet we're soon to be at. You have an opportunity that I don't have here, Caesar. You can free your people, just as I'm attempting to free my own. I can't set all of the gigantes loose. They’ll never hear me, or listen to me. I'm an outsider. More than likely, they'll only want to be enslaved by me. You, though?"
Alistair stood, moving Obs off his lap.
"You can be the leader they need. The leader who sets them all free. The leader they need."
The gigante slowly got to his feet, not taking his eyes off Alistair. "Is this a trick?"
Alistair took his right arm in his hand. "I would never trick you, Caesar. You are part of my pack now. More, what would I gain from trying it? Nothing. You're free, Caesar. You've been free since the moment I met you, but now I'm telling you as your 'master.' You are a free being, and your choices are only yours now. I will no longer command you or accept your subservience. You follow me if you want to, Caesar."
The giant blinked a few times. There was a gleam in his eye that his facial features couldn't adequately express. Something was happening inside the big creature's head.
" I...I need to think," Caesar said. "I'm going to go now. I'm going to go think."
It was one of the happiest moments Alistair had ever experienced, and besides Obs, no one else was there to see it. The giant didn't look at Alistair for approval. He didn't ask if it was okay. He dropped his eyes to the floor, turned, and walked out of the room, obviously deep in thought.
Alistair and Obs were left alone in the war room. He looked down at the drathe. The animal was staring at him. "Two things. Every creature deserves freedom, and free beings fight harder."
Obs barked loudly.
"Oh, no," Alistair responded. "You're stuck with me forever. No freedom for you."
The drathe nipped his hand.
Chapter Eight
Caesar was large, nearly two hundred and thirty kilograms of dense muscle. His head was huge in a way not seen on humans. He moved slowly unless the situation called for him to be fast. Then there were few in the universe who could move as quickly. His size and lumbering nature made those who met him consider him a slow thinker, and combined with his somewhat stilted use of language, some might even think him dumb.
Nothing could be further from the truth. For Caesar’s part, he never concerned himself with how others thought of him. His entire life had been on
e of brutality and brainwashing. He'd lived the early part of his life trying not to be murdered by creatures just like himself, and the second part had been spent in service to those who said his only purpose was to kill.
His mind wasn't slow, however, only abused and misled.
For the first time, Caesar was considering something new. He’d heard Prometheus tell him over and over that he wasn't a slave, but the truth of it had never settled into his mind. They were just words, without force or logic behind them.
Until today. Because for the first time, someone had given him the logic behind the words. It wasn't a treatise or proof, but something very simple.
Why did what other people say matter?
Caesar had wanted to scream, “BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT I WAS BRED TO DO!”
Yet, even that lacked logic. It was just emotion.
And what if it wasn't true? What if Prometheus was right? What if these people who claimed control over him had no right to do so?
Caesar made his way back to his room and almost collapsed on his bed. The walk had revealed something else that was almost paralyzing. Caesar had believed what he'd been told his whole life. He'd killed countless gigantes in his school and countless humans once out of it. He’d murdered again and again because he'd been told to.
Had all of it been due to a lie?
All of his brothers he'd murdered at school, and those he'd killed during his service to someone he’d thought his master? He didn't even bother considering the human lives he'd taken because it was humans who had made him do it.
How many had he killed, and how many of his brothers had murdered those like them for the same lie?
Caesar laid down in the bed and closed his eyes. He had felt this once before, the first time he killed—an infinite sadness that permeated his whole body. He felt hot tears behind his eyes, a strange thing he hadn’t known since that virginal experience with murder.
