by Gregg Vann
{My name is Akira Miso} the android replied. {Buddhist Master of Bodhi Prime}
As the initial shock subsided, the Blenej diplomat regained his composure—for the most part. He parsed Miso’s statement carefully, but it made no sense to him. “Brother Dyson leads the monastery on Prime,” Hul countered in a steady voice. “Everyone knows that.”
Miso stepped forward and tossed the soul chamber at Ambassador Hul’s feet. The android’s laugh rang out loudly through the office.
{That is Brother Dyson. Go ahead. Have a look for yourself}
Hul hesitantly leaned forward and hefted the chamber up with his bottom set of hands. He then spun it sideways in his grip to examine the object closely, noting the tarnished and weathered appearance. Hul glanced over at Awi Stenth and the chancellor nodded confirmation.
“It’s true,” Stenth said. “My science division has confirmed Miso’s claim. Brother Dyson, or his consciousness rather, is trapped inside that receptacle.”
“Can he hear us?” Hul asked.
{Possibly. Dyson is fairly clever. I wouldn’t put it past him to access a few of the external sensors}
Ambassador Hul directed his questions at Awi Stenth, purposely ignoring the android standing before him. “But how did he get in here?” The Blenej then pointed at Miso. “And who…or what, is this thing?”
{I placed Brother Dyson inside the soul chamber} Miso explained. {And there he will remain, for betraying me. Don’t be deceived by this body, Ambassador, I am one of the original founders of the monastery on Bodhi Prime, and now I would see it razed to the ground. Chancellor Stenth has agreed to help me in that regard, after a somewhat heated negotiation}
Ambassador Hul leapt up from his seat, his upper pair of hands drawn tightly into fists. “Absolutely not! We will never allow this! You Udek think you can do as you will, without any repercussions. But the Blenej will not stand idly by and let this happ—”
Awi Stenth interrupted him, speaking calmly. “Please, Ambassador Hul. Please, have a seat. Hear him out before making any rash decisions. I think you’ll find this proposal most interesting. And if you will indulge us for just a moment, you’ll see that things aren’t at all as you suspect.”
Hul remained skeptical, but he settled himself down enough to return to his chair, eyeing Miso and Chancellor Stenth suspiciously as he dropped down into it. He supposed it wouldn’t hurt to hear what they had to say; Hul could always reject it afterward. And more information was always a good thing.
{Ambassador} Miso began. {How do you feel about the Bodhi?}
“I don’t feel anything about them. I’m ambivalent. I respect the role Brother Dyson played in uniting the races against the Brenin. But I also realize that it was as much for the protection of Bodhi Prime as it was to help the rest of us.” Ambassador Hul’s eyes drifted down to the soul chamber as he spoke Dyson’s name. “But as a people, I possess no strong feelings about the Bodhi—either way.”
Miso stepped in closer. {Then tell me, how do you feel about the way they try to manipulate your society, using the transference technology as leverage? How does it make you feel when the Bodhi wield it like a weapon, to enforce their will on you?}
Hul glanced down at the soul chamber again and clutched it a little more tightly. “Now that I despise.”
{Ah, I see. And well you should. Now, what if I told you the Bodhi were not only trying to foist their religious beliefs on the Blenej, but that they’d been spying on you as well, keeping secret information stolen from the minds of the transference candidates you sent them?}
Ambassador Hul rose abruptly and stepped up to Awi Stenth’s desk, tossing the soul chamber down on top of it. The cylinder rolled over to the Udek chancellor and he nonchalantly picked it up.
“Can you prove that?” Hul demanded.
{I can. They cut off my access before I could retrieve the complete collection of files, but I grabbed enough information to prove what I’m saying is true. Are you still so willing to stand up for the Bodhi? To place Blenej lives on the line to protect them from us?}
Hul’s expression turned sour. “No. But what can be done? We’re not willing to give up our only path to immortality, either. Despite the recent progress shown by the Volasi, the Bodhi still control the most advanced and reliable consciousness transfer technology in existence. And they alone have access to it.”
“No longer,” Awi Stenth replied happily. “Brother Miso has all of the information necessary to completely replicate their work, right down to the tiniest detail. And you’re right: it is light years ahead of anything the Volasi have managed to achieve. We’ve already started constructing the facilities needed to operate our own program, so the Bodhi monopoly is gone. Broken, by us.”
“But what… What follows?” Hul stammered, realizing the Udek might actually annihilate Bodhi Prime now that they possessed the transference technology themselves. There was nothing left to stop them. The loss would spell disaster for the Blenej people, and make a galaxy-wide war a near certainty.
“Relax, Ambassador,” Stenth said, savoring the man’s discomfort. “We will guarantee the Blenej uninterrupted access to transference services, through an agreement worked out to your satisfaction with Ambassador O’linth. An arrangement, I might add, that will be far better for your people than anything the Bodhi ever offered you.”
“How uncharacteristically magnanimous,” Ambassador Hul replied warily. “In exchange for…”
“In exchange for simply doing nothing. The other races wouldn’t dare try to stop us from destroying the monastery if the Blenej aren’t on board. They couldn’t, even if they wanted to. Not without your fleet. So if you remain idle, they will as well. They’ll have no choice. And to quell any lingering dissent, we’ll assure them all that the Bodhi technology will still be available to everyone.”
Ambassador Hul scoffed. “With Udek restrictions and qualifications, no doubt.”
“The terms may not be perfect, but they will be fair.”
“So you say.”
“Yes, I do. And for your part in this the Blenej will gain exceptional privileges, ones the other races will not receive.”
“Just for doing nothing.”
Miso raised his voice to capture Ambassador Hul’s attention. {For standing aside so we can obliterate that cursed monastery and everyone in it. For looking away as we pound Bodhi Prime into an uninhabitable wasteland, reducing the atmosphere to violent firestorms of radioactive dust. I want the monk’s ashes to mingle in with the desert sand—their blood churned so deeply into the planet’s surface that their very atoms are indistinguishable from what remains of the ravaged environment. I intend to wipe out every last trace of their pathetic existence, to erase the monks from everything but memory. And in time, even that will fade. When I’m finished exacting my revenge against the Bodhi, it will be as if they never blighted the galaxy with their foul presence}
The android’s speech was coarse and hate-filled, and each word he uttered dripped with poisoned ambition. Miso’s mind was diseased, and driven by a dangerous madness. One no sane person could fail to notice, or ever hope to deny. Ambassador Hul thought of replying to the android but suppressed the urge, recognizing the abject futility of anything he might say. Miso was insane. Of that, Hul had no doubt. But there was some merit to this proposal—a potential benefit for the Blenej—so he came to a decision.
“I will speak with my government in the morning,” he told Stenth, “and relay their decision to you sometime tomorrow. I’ll recommend that we agree to this, if the terms are as you say they are, and to my liking. I’ll leave it to you to explain our preliminary accord to your ambassador. I’m not sure O’linth will appreciate being presented with a fait accompli, as the Humans say. No, I imagine he won’t be very happy about this at all.”
“Leave that to me,” Stenth replied.
“One last thing, Chancellor.” Ambassador Hul was a member of the Blenej philosopher class, but the telltale blue skin of his face was sl
ightly blanched—betraying a level of anger worthy of one of The Red. “Until today, you and I haven’t had a chance to interact during my time on Ko’ln, but you may ask Ambassador O’linth about my judgment and intuition. If you provide us with better terms than the Bodhi, we will agree to this—because that’s what’s best for the Blenej people.” Hul motioned toward Miso with his two left arms. “But believe me, the path you’re walking with this unhinged thing will eventually lead to ruination. I promise you that.”
Miso knew that he needed the Blenej to cooperate for his plan to be successful. So despite his rage, he made no move to defend himself.
“I appreciate the warning,” Awi Stenth said. “But I do know what I’m doing.”
Ambassador Hul reached out with his top pair of hands and Stenth handed him the soul chamber. The Blenej set it on the desk between them, resting the cylinder vertically on its flattened end, and then Hul gazed down at the device.
“Brother Dyson and I may have had our disagreements, Chancellor, and many times I thought about blowing up that damned monastery myself. But never forget what he did during the war. I doubt any of us would be standing here today without him. No matter what his crimes, I’m not sure anyone deserves this.” Hul handed the soul chamber back to Stenth and turned to leave, glaring at Miso as he did. “If all goes well, I will meet with Ambassador O’linth in the next few days to finalize everything. In the meantime, try to keep this animal on a short leash.”
Hul left the room and a waiting Special Corp commando intercepted him, ready to escort the ambassador back out of the building. As they disappeared down the hall, the door automatically closed again.
Chancellor Stenth casually tossed Dyson’s soul chamber back to Miso. “He’s right about that old monk, you know. As infuriating as he was, Brother Dyson did play an integral part in winning the war—and genocide against the Bodhi does seem a rather extreme reaction, regardless of their many offenses.”
{I don’t care about that war. Or the Blenej ambassador. Or even you, for that matter. I want my revenge, Stenth. And I will have it. My only regret is that the Bodhi will die too quickly, and just once, instead of repeatedly as I was forced to suffer}
Miso pulled the soul chamber up to his face, speaking to the device as if it were alive. {But you know exactly how that feels. Don’t you, Dyson? You’re experiencing it right now, dying over and over and over again. Are you enjoying damnation, Brother?}
The Chancellor of the Udek Special Corp looked away uncomfortably as Miso left the room. The android pulled the hood back over his head before stepping out into the corridor. Miso was undoubtedly headed back to his secluded chamber, deep within the bowels of the building, where he enjoyed little interaction with anyone else. Stenth knew that was probably best for all concerned. He caught himself staring blankly at the intelligence reports recently transmitted to his terminal, his mind still focused on Ambassador Hul’s final words.
He’s right, Awi Stenth thought to himself. Miso really will be the end of me…
But not if I find a way to end him first.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“There!” Maxal exclaimed. “Do you see it?”
“No,” Tien said. “Where? I don’t—”
By the time the frustrated Udek noticed the first hint of the other ship’s flight signature, Maxal had already maneuvered his own vessel beyond the range of their sensors, successfully avoiding detection.
“Impressive,” Tien said.
“Necessary,” Maxal replied, uncharacteristically serious. “If they see us, we’re finished. It’s as simple as that. Unless you’re flying something fast enough to get away from them, or powerful enough to take on an entire Udek attack fleet—this ship is neither, by the way—your only real chance through the gauntlet is not being detected in the first place.”
Maxal checked his display again, confirming the remaining distance to Polit. “If history is any indication, we should be clear of the blockade now. But I’ll keep an eye out, just the same.”
“I recommend it,” Tien told him. “Even the slightest complacency might get us killed. The Udek military is trained to vary their patrols—to keep the patterns from becoming predictable, and therefore, ineffective. It’s possible they’ve grown lax, especially in the conditions you describe, where morale may have become an issue. But I certainly wouldn’t count on it.”
Despite his warnings to the contrary, and instinct for caution, Tien looked over the readings himself and realized that Maxal was probably right. Their ship should be well inside the blockade perimeter now, and it was doubtful they’d encounter any further Udek vessels.
“Assuming we’ve successfully skirted the Udek fleet,” he said, “how do you intend to get past the planet’s satellite detection grid when we arrive?”
“Ah, that part’s easy,” Maxal said. “Polit doesn’t have one. The native grid was destroyed during the war, and the Iriq are quite good at blowing up anything the Udek try to drop into orbit. I mean, how hard is it to launch a small anti-satellite missile and then run back into hiding? The missiles are cheap and plentiful; the advanced reconnaissance satellites aren’t.”
Tien turned his head abruptly and looked at Maxal. “It’s strange. The Udek reports I intercepted while preparing for this mission didn’t mention any of the problems you’ve described. They indicated difficulties on Polit, yes. And it was pretty clear that things weren’t going well on the planet. But not nearly to the extent that you allege.”
Maxal sighed. “The truth is, Tien, I don’t think anyone on Polit—or even back on Ko’ln, for that matter—wants to acknowledge how bad the situation really is. The Udek stationed there don’t want to appear ineffective, and the generals on Ko’ln either can’t, or won’t, send them much-needed reinforcements. Honestly, I think everyone is just trying to cover their collective asses until something breaks—either good or bad.”
“That is a well-informed and detailed intelligence analysis coming from a mere smuggler,” Tien pointed out.
Maxal shrugged. “Well, you know how it is. I hear things from time to time.”
A proximity alarm pinged loudly through the ship, sparing Maxal from having to explain himself any further.
“We’re here,” he announced. “I should warn you both that we’ll be dropping in much faster than I’d like to avoid detection by the Udek base on the ground. But don’t worry, I’ve done this before and the ship can take it. You’d better check your harnesses though, because it will definitely be a rough ride.”
Tien and Brother Ryll both heard the urgency in Maxal’s voice, and they instantly did as he directed. Then all three of them gazed out the forward window at the fast-approaching planet. Polit appeared unremarkable to Tien, and certainly unworthy of all this strife—the number of deaths and the amount of resources committed, not to mention the negative political implications, and a very real possibility of failure. He knew it was the planet’s strategic location that mattered most, and not the aesthetic qualities he was using to judge Polit from afar. But despite this understanding, and the probable truth regarding the planet’s logistical value to the Udek, Tien still found very little to appreciate as they drew closer to it.
The mid-sized world was colored with all of the blues and greens one might expect from a habitable planet, along with a small scattering of dullish tan areas—possibly deserts—unevenly spread out across the four large landmasses currently in view. Vast oceans separated the continents, just as on many similar worlds throughout the galaxy, and clouds of assorted shapes and sizes wound their way through the oxygen-rich atmosphere—everywhere, except over the dead standard and completely expected polar ice caps. There were no distinguishing features—or anything even remotely out of the ordinary. Polit was, for lack of a better descriptor, an exceptionally average planet. In fact, being so prototypically average was the only thing that made the world exceptional.
Things became infinitely more interesting when the ship slipped past the orbital range and s
lammed into the atmosphere, shuddering violently as hot plasma generated by the steep entry angle buffeted the vessel, blocking the view outside. The ship dove lower into the atmosphere at a tremendous rate of speed, and the ride smoothed out as it broke through the cloud cover and into open air. Tien noticed an expansive desert just below them, and at first it reminded him of Bodhi Prime. But he knew the vista was only temporary. Over the next few minutes, the ship’s extreme velocity sent them flying over several types of landscapes, each of them broken or bordered by oceans, rivers, or inland seas. The comparison to Bodhi Prime died quickly.
As he leveled out at a lower altitude, Maxal pointed the ship toward a large body of cobalt blue water, barely visible on the horizon. But before they reached it, he descended even further—to just a couple of hundred meters above the surface of the planet—and the distant ocean fell from view. Tien noticed the ship was flying much slower now as well, coasting easily over a broad expanse of open land. The savanna-like terrain below them was covered in brownish-green grass, and peppered with tightly bunched copses of trees—like tall, leafy islands, anchored in a sea of vegetation. A movement below caught Tien’s eye, and he spotted a large animal lumbering across the terrain—just ahead of the ship. He then noted dozens more of them nearby, wistfully grazing on the omnipresent grass, and completely oblivious to the off-world intruders flying overhead.
The creatures were matte black, with mottled gray patterns spread all across their massive frames. They stood twice as tall at the shoulder as Tien’s current android form—possibly even taller—and were layered with what appeared to be overlapping plates of bone, stacked like thick, protective shingles over their entire bodies. Above the overly broad torso sat a gigantic head, dominated by a wide mouth full of impressive teeth. Directly over that frightening maw were three oval-shaped eyes, pushed out on beefy stalks to extend beyond the bony armor. Even from this height, Tien could see that the beasts presented an incredibly fearsome aspect from the front, enough to send any potential opponent in the opposite direction, just as fast as they could travel. But their immense girth tapered off dramatically toward the back of the animals, somewhat lessening the effect. The hind legs were only half as tall as the front pair, so the quadruped’s body sloped down toward the rear of the beast at a steep angle, ending at a meter-long tail that was covered in reticulated plates of bone. But despite this progressive decline in both girth and height, the creature’s hindquarters still remained mammoth-sized, by anyone’s reckoning. Tien noticed that even the animal’s blunt head was swept toward the back, narrowing into a vertical ridge that resembled a tightly stacked row of horns. Odd anatomy and aerodynamic inefficiency notwithstanding, he thought the creature looked absolutely dangerous…from any angle.
