by David Beers
The giant lay alone in his room and thought of the evil he'd done, wondering if there was time to make up for it.
For the first moment since awakening in a vat, the AllSeer was stunned.
A Superior, one from his very bloodline, had been cut down by this Prophesied One.
Millions of miles away, the AllSeer considered what it might mean.
He could not see the battle as it happened, but then, he hadn't thought it would be necessary. The Prophesied One would die, the AllMother's futile quest would end, and then the AllSeer and his sister would meet their fate together. He had watched the Prophesied One fight once before, on the AllSeer's ship, and yes, the man had been impressive.
But he was only that—a man.
A modified man, yes, but a man all the same.
Ajax had been nearly as powerful as the AllSeer. Certainly, he should have been able to kill this human. Ajax was no longer here, though. He’d gone to meet the gods, and the Prophesied One still lived.
The AllSeer rarely rushed to action. He’d lived long enough and seen more than enough to know that he needn't rush. His strength and power were too vast for him to move quickly.
So, back on his homeworld, he thought. He remained alone, not granting entrance to his quarters except by the slaves of whom he demanded things.
After one month, around the same time a giant was contemplating his nature in another part of the universe, the AllSeer decided what must be done.
He rose from his chair and walked out of his quarters. The slave standing outside bowed low, careful not to make eye contact. The AllSeer paid no attention but turned down the hallway. He thought about Ajax as he walked. He would not miss the man in a conventional sense, but he still found it almost inconceivable that Ajax was dead.
Perhaps something was different about this Prophesied One.
Perhaps his sister knew something he didn't.
These juxtaposed thoughts within his mind threatened the AllSeer for the first time in hundreds of years. His and his sister's fates were intertwined; no one could convince him otherwise. Yet, if he knew their fate and had not seen this Prophesied One enter, he was missing something very important.
The AllSeer walked outside his home and onto a world that was more technological than biological. The machinations of war had already started, and they wouldn’t stop now. Above him, hanging from metal tree-like structures, were creatures waking up for the first time in centuries. The aluminum cocoons that wrapped them were peeling away, revealing the AllSeer's monstrosities.
He had thought he would have his sister by now and the assault on Earth could begin. The monsters above him couldn't be held at bay for long. They would need to feed, as most creatures did, and the AllSeer couldn't deny them that.
He walked beyond the slowly waking beings without looking at them.
To his right, a weapons plant was alive with work. Slaves were going in and out, some moving equipment containing raw materials. Again, the AllSeer ignored it all. These were things that had been started and now couldn’t be stopped. The war machine would move forward, heading toward Earth, and if fate hadn't revealed itself by then, Earth and all its inhabitants would cease existing.
The AllSeer wound his way across his planet on foot, walking nine miles before finding the transport he wanted. The slave flying it said nothing as he entered the back and sat down. This transport was rarely used, and mostly by the AllSeer's scientists. He stared out the transport's windows as it rose into the air and looked down at everything he'd created. The black metal world beneath him seemed to move of its own accord, although the AllSeer knew he was the engine which moved it all.
The transport flew beyond the city and out into the burnt and blackened countryside. The AllSeer had come to this planet long ago when it was necessary to escape his father's iron fist. The planet had been green then, and an alien species that humanity had never known nor even dreamed about lived here. The AllSeer had wiped them out, every last one of them. He'd burned their green planet to ashes, and he continued to do so twice a year. If he didn't, there was a chance that life could restart on his homeworld, and it wasn't something he wished to ever see again.
The transport finally reached the place that the AllSeer had come to see.
He stepped outside, and his foot ground the ash beneath him to fine dust. A door beneath the ash opened, and the AllSeer descended into the planet. He needed no lights to see, and none lit the stairs as he moved down them.
He knew the hallways well since he'd been the one to design them. In this way, the AllSeer was a lot like his father. Aurelius had created his halls and his experiments all those years ago. Aurelius operated on his son and daughter, the children from his loins. The AllSeer didn't have children in that fashion, but he had created...things.
It had taken much longer than his father's creations, as had the experiments that still weren't done. The AllSeer thought in terms of centuries, not days, not hours. He never knew if the creatures he was now going to see would bear the fruit of murder.
Yet, after what happened to Ajax, he might need to set them loose.
"Let me see them," he told the first researcher who approached him.
"Certainly," the researcher responded. These scientists were slaves. They were not Superior like the AllSeer, but they were held in higher regard than the slaves who worked in residences. These scientists had been bred for certain jobs under the AllSeer's careful eye.
The man led the AllSeer deeper within the rock, where massive cooling systems had been installed to ensure the molten core wouldn't overheat the subjects.
Finally, the AllSeer reached what he had traveled so far to see, a project he’d begun long ago, and one that now looked like it might be a necessity. "Are they ready?"
The first scientist had left after entering this final room. The AllSeer now stood next to another slave. This one was bald with very pale skin as if he'd never emerged from beneath the ground. Maybe he hadn't. He spoke in a high-pitched voice, and he refused to make eye contact with the AllSeer. Rather, he stared longingly at the creatures inside the tank before them.
"Theeeey have been reeeaadyy, master." The slave stretched out his words as he spoke.
The AllSeer stepped closer to the tank. "Will they obey me?"
"Yesssss," the slave responded, remaining two steps behind the AllSeer.
There were three creatures in front of him, and they were unlike anything the universe had ever seen. They were new in their entirety, and the AllSeer wasn't confident about letting them out. Yet, he wasn't sure what choice he had.
"What woooould you have meeeee doooo, Master?" the slave asked.
One of the creatures lunged at another inside the tank, ripping off a limb. A shriek exploded, one that hurt the AllSeer's mind instead of his ears.
The limb rapidly grew back, and the AllSeer thought the creature who’d attacked was chuckling. "Is it laughing?"
"Yessss, Master. They are plaaaaaying."
The third creature floated in the back. All of them had more tentacles than torso.
The creature who'd regrown a limb lashed out at the first attacker. The second creature tried to move but wasn't fast enough. It was sliced in half, yet it continued to give that odd chuckle. Within a few moments, the second half had rejoined the first, and everything was back to normal in the tank, except for the black blood floating on the water.
The AllSeer placed his hand on the tank. The three creatures on the other side ripped through the water, the oil-colored eyes along all their tentacles focusing on the new hand. Each of the three placed the end of one of their tentacles on the other side of the glass.
"They know you, Maaaasster," the slave said. "You are in theeeeeem, as you are in all of usssss."
The AllSeer took his hand off the tank and turned to look at the slave, a massive being standing over a pathetically small one. "They're ready, then?"
The slave nodded without looking at him, staring at the creatures as if they wer
e his children.
"Release them."
"What shall I use for them to track?"
The AllSeer reached into a pocket on his vest. He pulled out a small vial containing a red liquid and handed it to the slave. "Give them this."
The slave gently took the vial and brought it up to his face. He didn't dare ask what it was. To question the AllSeer would surely mean death. After looking at it for the briefest of moments, he pocketed it. "May I be excused, Master?"
"Give it to them," the AllSeer responded.
The slave rushed out of the AllSeer's view. A few minutes passed, then the AllSeer watched as those tiny red droplets from the vial were pumped into the back of the tank. The creatures' tentacles paused as if sensing something was different. A half-second passed, then the three creatures swarmed. The red liquid disappeared in a flurry of movement as the beings consumed it.
A hole opened on the left side of the tank. The AllSeer watched as the creatures rushed to it, intent on finding the one who'd created the red liquid.
Which was, of course, the Prophesied One.
Chapter Nine
Alistair stood on the bridge with Faitrin at his side. The screens in front of them showed the planet that they'd soon land on. The final month of the trip had been relatively painless, a time Alistair had enjoyed and told his council to enjoy as well. The gigantes did as they were told, none venturing to offer an opinion besides Caesar.
The giant had been quiet for a week or so after Alistair spoke with him.
He’d come around at some point and asked a very simple question. "I would like to call you boss instead of master. Is that okay with you?"
Alistair smiled and said “boss” was fine by him. A person could quit a boss.
The dreadnought was outside the planet's gravitational pull, and when questioned by the planet's authorities, it had given coordinates to another part of the galaxy as their destination. The authorities ignored them after that, even though the dreadnought had slowed down considerably.
"You're quiet, Faitrin," Alistair said as they stared at the screens. "You want to tell me what you're thinking?"
The pilot's eyes weren't gray for once. The Terram had loaned Alistair other pilots who were harmonized with the ship at the moment. Men and women alike, they were shorter and stronger than the average human. All seemed more than happy to be on board. The fealty they'd pledged had quickly filtered down through all levels of society. Alistair still didn't understand their language, but it turned out most Terram understood his. They'd just been making it hard on him by not speaking it.
Faitrin was quiet for a few minutes, and Alistair didn't push it. He knew the pilot was worried and not about the possibility of death. This was something else, something more serious bothering her.
"I'm worried about Thoreaux."
Alistair towered over the woman by almost three feet, but when she spoke, it was as if they were equals. The weight of her words hung around his neck like an anvil. "Because of what happened?"
"Yes, because of what happened." Her words were venomous. "He's not well, Pro, and if he knew I was talking to you like this... I don't even want to think of the consequences. So you make sure this stays between us."
"Of course," he whispered. The Terram pilots were too far away to hear the discussion, and no one besides him had access to the cameras on the ship. "What's wrong?"
Thoreaux had been distant, much more so than before he was kidnapped. The plan with the planet of gigantes was for Alistair, Thoreaux, and Caesar to make their way down in a smaller pod and figure out the lay of the land. Obs would stay aboard the dreadnought. Caesar said the terrain was simply not suitable for the drathe. If they could free the gigantes by themselves, then they would. If not, Alistair would bank on himself to come up with a plan.
The usual.
"He's harsher, Pro. Whatever that bitch did to him, he isn't willing or able to let it go. You taking him down there frightens me. It should frighten you, too."
"I can't believe Thoreaux would ever do something to harm me or Caesar," Alistair responded.
Faitrin laughed without looking at him. "I'm not talking about you. I'm scared of what he'll do to his enemies, Pro. I love the man. I've loved him almost since the first moment I saw him, just like I knew I'd follow you until I die. You know how I kept saying you'd have to give me whatever I want? All I wanted was him, and now I have him. Even if it's a different version than the one I first met. I don't care. He's dangerous now, Pro. To anyone that stands in your way, he's dangerous."
Alistair remained quiet for a few minutes, thinking about what she said. He thought the truth of her fear lay in what she didn't say. How was he dangerous?
"Thanks, Faitrin," he told her. "I'm going to prepare for our takeoff. I'll keep in mind what you told me."
The pilot said nothing as Alistair walked off. Her words were much simpler than the tumult he felt.
The Written History of The Great Insurrection
Fear.
I know that those who served with me after Helanus vi Thraxus felt it. I know Faitrin felt it. I was different. I had changed.
As we prepared for on the gigante's home planet, I was thinking about it too.
The cruelty on the planet beneath us had only existed in the worst parts of humanity. Slavery. It dated back to our beginnings, and no matter how we tried to rid ourselves of it, we didn't seem to be able to.
The gigantes weren't human, but they were slaves, and somehow the corporation that owned them thought because they'd created the new species, it was okay to enslave them.
The people I fought with were scared because they didn't understand me anymore.
I couldn't tell them at the time, but their fear was actually because they did understand me.
They'd seen what I'd gone through.
The SkinSuit was a primitive technology that Alistair and his company used out of necessity. The Terram had lent him tech at a very basic level before, but after seeing Alistair's capabilities and his willingness to kill with them, they’d pledged their fealty. That had led to better tech, better than a group of refugees running across the universe could come up with by themselves.
Thoreaux was trying on the new armor when Prometheus came to his room.
The SkinSuit folded up as one item, able to retract from the arms, legs, or torso. The Terram called their battle suit a Fire Starter. The name related to their planet, and the technology was a marvel in its own right.
The armor came in pieces: legs, arms, hands, torso, and finally a helmet. However, the plates melded into one another. Each piece was a part of the whole and formed a single unit.
Thoreaux stood inside the armor with everything but the helmet on. It sat on his bed as he looked at this new tech, wondering how much damage it could deal.
The SkinSuit adapted to cold and heat, allowing people to survive in space and still move with agility.
This was the armor of old, of Roman legions, of American armies before the Ascendancy took over.
Thoreaux didn't understand the tech, but his body was covered with some sort of metal alloy that felt light and supple enough to allow normal movement. He knelt, the knee joints feeling natural. He placed his hand on the deck. This was the test. He'd seen MechSuits in action, but they were huge and clunky. They sped up a wearer's actions and increased their strength, but they lacked the nuances this Fire Starter armor was supposed to possess.
Gripping the floor, he squeezed. He felt no extra pressure inside the suit, and he watched with amazement as the deck bent beneath the force.
Thoreaux pulled his hand back and stared in amazement at the five dimples in the deck. The suit had turned him superhuman.
A knock on the door caused him to turn his head. A small screen on the side showed him Prometheus was standing outside. "Open the door, Jeeves."
The AI was silent, but the door slid open. Thoreaux stood as Pro entered. He was wearing his Fire Starter armor and carrying his helmet.
"T
esting it out?" Pro asked.
Thoreaux looked down at the slightly bent deck. "Yeah. It's really something. How does it compare to MechSuits?"
"We haven’t used it in battle yet, so I can't say for sure. I know it beats the hell out of SkinSuits, though. I just checked on Caesar. He's almost ready, so I wanted to spin by and see if you are."
Thoreaux hadn't looked up yet, but he knew Pro hadn’t shown up here to see if he was ready. They had a drop time, and it wasn’t like Thoreaux would miss it. "She said something, didn't she?"
Pro didn't answer the question, and Thoreaux knew what that meant. Faitrin had said something. He wasn't angry since he understood her concerns.
"I'm just wondering where your head's at," Prometheus responded.
"Right here on my shoulders." Thoreaux looked up from the deck. "I'm in the game. You don't need to worry about me."
Prometheus stared at him in silence for a few seconds. Finally, he asked, "You'll tell me if you need anything from me, right?"
Thoreaux nodded. "I'm good. If I weren’t, I'd tell you."
Pro took one last measure of him, then nodded. "See you at drop time."
The two left it at that, and Pro walked out of the room. Thoreaux finished packing the few items he was bringing onto the foreign world. He knew she'd show up, so he waited.
His back was to the door when she entered. She was quiet, and he didn't turn around.
"He told you I said something, huh?" Faitrin finally asked. She was able to tell the difference in him just from his stance.
"No, he didn't, but he didn't have to." He turned and met her eyes. "What did you tell him?"
"That I was worried about you."
"What are you worried about?"
Faitrin sighed and stepped farther into the room. She walked around Thoreaux and sat on the bed. Leaning forward, she placed her elbows on her knees. "I'm worried about what you're going to do to your enemies."
