by Gregg Vann
Dyson watched as the big ship came to a rest on the commercial sized landing pad, just outside the main laboratory. As the desert sand kicked up by the landing cleared, he noticed the deep, black scorching and impact damage. It was obvious that the Udek had fought their way here through the Brenin lines; a desperate bid for his approval for some reckless plan of theirs.
That desperation will make them even more dangerous, he mused.
Colorful wisps of gas accompanied a loud popping sound as the airlock opened on the side of the ship; methane, and other more exotic compounds, escaped from the craft and drifted off into the oxygen-rich atmosphere of Bodhi Prime. The old monk watched as a ramp noisily extended from the airlock and down to the ground, digging into the runway slightly as it reached its full length.
Dyson braced himself as the Udek emerged—four in all—each fully armed and armored. And even though their faces were hidden, their mannerisms and brisk movements conveyed a militant purpose that left little doubt as to what nature of beings they were. Their fierce reputation was indeed warranted; the Udek were a severe and determined people.
As the group approached, one of the large creatures reached up to turn on his external communicator. “Brother Dyson, it is time. We need him. Now.”
“As I told you when you first contacted me, General Queltz…as I’ve have told you several times since, it doesn’t work like that.”
The Udek closed the short distance between them and leaned over the much shorter man. To his credit, Dyson held his ground, even if he did lean back perceptibly.
“I will tell you one last time, monk, Tien is coming with us.”
“It’s just not possible, General. His clone isn’t fully-grown yet, and his penance hasn’t even begun. He is simply not ready.”
There was a tinge of fear in the old monk’s voice, but also the ring of truth. Queltz heard both.
“Then just give me the cyborg. Certainly it’s active by now.”
“What? Impossible! We just began programming him. Tien is set to begin the cleansing ritual in a day or two. Come back in a month. I promise, everything will be ready then.”
The Udek pulled his hand back to strike the monk, but then leveled his arm out in front of him instead, pointing at Dyson’s face. “In another month, this war will be over you old fool! And this planet will be destroyed or subjugated, just like every other one the Brenin have attacked.”
Dyson’s back stiffened, and conviction colored his voice. “I would rather face that than betray my faith, General. One month…it’s the best I can do.”
Queltz lowered his voice, meeting the monk’s defiant eyes with his own cold, black orbs. “You don’t have a month.”
He gestured behind himself to the damaged spacecraft. “The fleet that did that to my ship is eight days away from here—the Brenin are coming to Bodhi Prime much earlier than anticipated. I can leave with Tien, gather my forces and fight them. Or I can leave without him, and watch your planet burn from a safe distance. The choice is yours.”
Eight days.
The old monk was stunned. Most projections had the Brenin heading in another direction altogether, but he could see that Queltz was telling the truth. Dyson looked at the general’s face and weighed the possibilities. Would the Udek really allow Bodhi Prime to be destroyed? While it was true that they despised the Bodhi and their religious ways, surely they wouldn’t rob themselves of the monk’s services. They would lose access to the transference technology that guaranteed them immortality. Was this one man that important to them? As he watched the work crews start filing out of the damaged ship to make repairs, the old monk found his answer; the Udek had already risked their lives greatly just to get here. They were determined to get Tien, and they would abandon this planet to the Brenin if they didn’t get their way.
Queltz would let Bodhi fall.
“Perhaps we should talk in my office,” Dyson said tiredly.
“Perhaps we should, monk.” Queltz turned to one of his subordinates. “Tell them to bring it.”
The other Udek barked some orders into her comm system and then nodded to Queltz. “It’s on the way.”
Dyson looked at them quizzically for a moment before the five set off together, walking silently toward a small collection of administrative offices sitting adjacent to the landing area. Even though Dyson kept an office here, most of the rooms in the complex were very simple—usually employed to prepare or debrief atonement monks, or occasionally to meet with off-worlders seeking the monk’s services. Now they would host a negotiation that could determine the future of The Order of Buddha’s Light itself…possibly deciding if there was even going to be a future.
How will I get myself out of this one? Dyson asked himself as they walked.
How will I save us all?
Chapter Five
Queltz and his aide—a colonel if Dyson read the insignia properly—joined the monk in his office while the other two Udek waited in the hall, guarding the mysterious cargo container delivered from the Udek ship. Brother Dyson dropped into a thickly padded chair, set behind a large, wooden desk, and exhaled heavily. He gestured to some empty chairs. “Please, have a seat.”
The Udek remained standing. The monk wasn’t the least bit surprised.
This whole situation was beginning to remind him of the first time he’d dealt with the Udek, when they, like the other races of the galaxy, initially found out about the monk’s discovery of the transference process. The Bodhi developed the method as a way to speed enlightenment; the belief being that if you could remember your sins from your past life, you wouldn’t repeat them in the next. But even more importantly, going into your next life with your present “mind” allowed you to take specific steps to cleanse your karma for each individual offense committed against the fabric of life. With the transference process perfected, the aged monks began planting their own consciousnesses into perfect clones just before they died—crossing a technological bridge back to their youth with their accumulated wisdom intact. It was a direct path to Nirvana.
Or so the monks believed.
But the other races saw it as an avenue for immortality—the same mind, but in a new, younger cloned body. And many of them were bent on seizing the process for themselves, a few violently so. Brother Dyson had seen the danger and hastily negotiated non-interference treaties, using the technology itself as a bargaining chip. He agreed to provide the services to all who could afford it, and in doing so, secured a deterrent against the more violent species, the Udek in particular. None of the races would allow others to interfere with the Bodhi—securing the procedure for all who wanted it. Not even the Udek could stand up to everyone.
Now Dyson was bargaining again, under a new threat, but this time the danger was even more certain. The Brenin made the Udek look like schoolyard bullies by comparison, especially as they stood in front of him now…staring impatiently like children.
“What is so important about this one man, General?” Dyson asked.
“I don’t expect you to understand, monk, but Tien is one of a kind. Even within our elite fighting units, he is renowned for his ability to infiltrate and eliminate targets—to improvise his way through or around any situation. He is as lethal a creature as has ever walked any planet—even managing to break into one of our most highly secure facilities undetected. And when he was finally discovered, he killed over two dozen heavily armed commandos, in addition to the guards he dispatched along the way. He is a relentless killing machine, monk, and he doesn’t quit…ever. Did you see what was left of his body when we shipped it here?”
Dyson made a disgusted face. “I did. All of the pieces you’d bothered to gather up anyway. We had to sift through them to find the monitor you’d implanted. I’d never seen one of those devices before.”
“All of our Special Corp operatives have them; they constantly scan and record their brain patterns. If we’re able to retrieve the body after an agent dies on a mission, we can bring them back with their memo
ries intact—right up until the moment of death; it’s insurance against losing any valuable intelligence. But I admit, I was worried that you wouldn’t be able to locate it in what remained after the firefight.” Queltz leaned forward and placed both hands flat on the desk, drawing Dyson’s full attention. “Tien wasn’t caught in an explosion, monk, he was blown apart, piece-by-piece with weapons fire. They only managed to stop him by shooting his hands off—one of his legs had already been destroyed. If he’d had any limbs left, they’d probably still be trying to kill him. He doesn’t know how to quit, monk. He is the most unrelenting, brutal killer we have ever trained.”
Queltz seemed very proud of his assassin’s remorseless ability to take life, but that made him the worst of the worst as far as Dyson was concerned. “How exactly does that help us now?” he asked.
“Because we have a plan to insert him into the Brenin fleet; to have him gather vital intelligence and strike at their leadership. This one man can turn the tide of this war, monk, before it’s too late.”
Dyson sat up straight. “How in Buddha’s name will you get him into the fleet undiscovered? What reports I’ve seen makes it appear impossible to get anywhere near them without being decimated.”
Queltz gestured to the hall. “With a special piece of cargo we’ve brought along.”
“I don’t understand, General.”
“Bring me Tien and you will.”
The aged monk gave the general a confused look.
“Tien,” Queltz repeated. “Now.”
Dyson shrugged. “Very well.”
He hit the communications panel on the desk and called the laboratory.
“This is Brother Dyson. Have Kiro Tien and his programmer sent to my office immediately.”
“Of course, Brother. Right away.”
“Your people have discipline,” Queltz said. “At least there’s that.”
“My people believe in our work, General. That is their motivation.”
The general and his aide shared a dismissive glance.
“Your devotion to alien and outmoded concepts of morality is most amusing, monk. And if your belief is that strong, then why must you charge so much for the process? Your redemption is costly, human.”
“We have expenses. The penance process—”
“That process is ridiculous,” Queltz interrupted. “With luck, this war will free my people from you and your faith.”
“Without repentance, General, there can be no rebirth.”
“We shall see, monk. We shall see… This war is bringing change across the galaxy. The Bodhi may find themselves on the other side of dependency very soon, if not today, even.”
The two glared at one another as the door opened and Kiro Tien entered with his assigned programmer, Brother Kiva. Dyson bade them both to sit and made introductions.
“…and this is General Queltz.”
“Queltz?” Tien asked, suddenly alert.
“Yes,” the general confirmed. “I’m the one who sent you here to be reborn after that disastrous rescue attempt of yours on Nilot. Believe me, if I didn’t need you, you would still be dead.”
“Of course,” Tien replied calmly. “And was it also you who ordered my wife’s abduction?”
“It was, spy. You Special Corp assassins think you are above command decisions. You think you can operate with impunity. You cannot. After you refused your mission on Gil and disappeared, I had to take other measures to control you.”
“My mission, as you call it, was to kill the child of some bureaucrat's political rival. I refused.”
“Silence! You will not discuss our internal matters in front of outsiders. You don’t get to pick and choose what orders you will accept, spy. Regardless, it’s far too late for you to develop a conscience now. I’ve seen your files and I know the things you’ve done. I can’t imagine how long a list this cursed monk came up with to include all of your sins. But then again, so much of it is classified; I doubt even he knows how many atrocities you’ve committed.” Queltz shook his head before continuing, struggling to control his anger. “But don’t worry, spy, this time your new found morality shouldn’t give you any qualms; I’m ordering you on an important war mission that even you can approve of.”
Tien ignored the general’s diatribe and continued to stare at his face. “One last question, Queltz. Are you the one that ordered my wife’s execution?”
“Yes, you impudent… We took her as leverage when you went renegade. And when you refused to surrender, she became a lesson to the other spies: follow orders, or your families will suffer the same fate.”
“I see,” Tien replied. He turned to his programmer. “Kiva, how much current goes through this cyborg construct?”
“I…I don’t know exactly.”
“Brother Dyson, surely you have some idea.”
“Well…yes,” the monk said, surprised. “But I don’t understand your need to know.”
“Humor me, please.”
“Around 500 mA, more or less.”
“Thank you, Brother Dyson.”
Tien raised his right hand and stuck two fingers in his mouth, biting down hard. Blood splattered onto Kiva’s face, and the young monk jumped up and away, staggering backward against the wall.
Everyone in the room stared in shocked silence as Tien used his teeth to rake the skin off the fingers, exposing the metal framework underneath. Then he stood up, spitting out the faux flesh and twisting some of the wiring from the two fingers together.
“Queltz stepped forward to confront him. “What the hell are you doing?”
Tien responded by leaping on the general and driving the two fingers into the back of his neck, just between the armored collar and helmet. Queltz started shuddering uncontrollably and his thrashing almost threw Tien off, but the spy held on tightly, continuing to pump current into the general.
The colonel came to her senses and leveled her pistol at Tien, just as the two soldiers in the hall came rushing in—drawn by the commotion. Shots rang out and Tien flinched, but held on tightly; his sturdy cyborg body withstanding more punishment than any organic life form ever could. But the Udek kept firing, and eventually, even its reinforced skeleton succumbed to the impacts. Tien fell away from Queltz and they both collapsed.
The Udek stopped firing and Dyson ran over to check the two. Queltz was dead; Tien had electrocuted him using the general’s spine as a conduit. Dyson knew that his neural network would be fried as well. There would be no rebirth for this Queltz. If there was an earlier copy of his mind on file, the Udek may want him revived, but after what Dyson heard about the murder of Tien’s wife, the monk was in no hurry to investigate. Tien was miraculously still alive, but the cyborg body was damaged beyond repair.
“What the hell are we going to do now?” the colonel barked.
Tien reached up and grabbed Dyson’s robe, pulling him down; the monk’s ear coming to rest just inches from the dying assassin’s lips.
“I know why they came here, monk, what they wanted from me. I will save your planet. I will stop the Brenin. Bring me back…and I will win this war. One condition. One condition only…”
“But how?” Dyson asked, exasperated. “There is no time to build another cyborg body, and your clone isn’t ready!”
“You will find a way, monk…you must.”
Dyson mind raced, but there was no solution. No possible way to resurrect him before the Brenin arrived. Tien jerked his collar again.
“My condition, monk.”
“Yes? What is it, Tien?”
“I want my wife back.” Tien coughed hard, and a grey fluid bubbled up from his throat to stain his lips. “I know the prison has the genetic and neural information you need…bring her back.”
“I can’t possibly get that—”
“She can!” Tien weakly pointed at Queltz’s aide with his other hand. “Do it…or we all perish. And then I’ll join Dasi again anyway…in death.”
Tien coughed once more, splattering the stic
ky, grey substance across his chin. Then he stopped moving altogether and his hand fell away from Dyson’s collar.
The old monk rose from the floor and looked at the programmer.”Bother Kiva, have him taken to the lab and extract the soul chamber while I figure out what to do next.”
“I’m sorry, Brother Dyson, there was no time to activate the Shepherd Personality, we couldn’t control—”
“It’s not your fault, Brother Kiva. Now do as I say.”
The other monk nodded and went over to the desk to call for help.
“Colonel…?”
“Eraz.”
“Can you do what he says, Colonel Eraz?”
“Tien was right; they keep the prisoner’s complete brain patterns on record, just in case they die during interrogation and require further…questioning. The prison should also have the necessary medical records.”
“So we can get his cooperation. But how can we get him into a body…so he can complete the mission before the Brenin fleet arrives?”
“Dyson…I don’t pretend to know how you monks bring people back to life, or how you create the cyborgs that look just like them, but I have something to show you. Come with me.”
Eraz stepped over Queltz’s body and walked out into the hall. Dyson and the two soldiers followed her out of the office.
The container from the Udek ship—a silver ovoid nearly three meters long—floated motionlessly up against the wall. Eraz stepped up to it and keyed in a security code. The top portion slid aside and Brother Dyson walked over to look inside.
His jaw dropped.
“What the…what is that?”
“This,” she replied, “is what the Brenin look like.”
Chapter Six
Why is everything so blurry?
Wait…not blurry… It’s not out of focus; it’s multiplied. There are four distinct images of everything I see—slightly offset, and each a different color—but four of everything…all in the same view.
