Citizen Pariah (Unreal Universe Book 3)

by Lee

  “I feel … I feel … okay.” Garth looked down at himself. “Did I mention I’m naked?”

  “Our vessel can supply you with clothing.” Fenris helped Garth to his feet. “And then …”

  “And then we find Bravo.” Garth aimed himself towards one of the far walls. “I ever tell you guys about this guy named Batman? One of the coolest heroes around.”

  “You haven’t known us long enough to tell us anything.” Fenris fell into stride beside N’Chalez.

  “Oh, well, his name was actually Bruce Wayne…”

  Chapter Three

  Dragon’s Teeth

  Vasily watched the OIPs fall from the heavens, glittering capsules stuffed full of soldiers that would –and here, he could only hope- rise up to protect The Peak. Though it was an awe-inspiring sight, his brain ached and one ear trickled steadily with blood; in a desperate attempt to arrive at The Peak at the same time as his falling soldiers, he’d pushed an Army jumpjet to the absolute limits. Not augmented beyond the simplest of mechs, Vasily gathered he’d done himself irreparable harm, but he’d needed to see, needed to witness.

  The falling OIPs grew closer, the skies filling with a thousand contrails.

  Standing on a well-camouflaged observation deck, eyes aching fiercely, Vasily turned his binoculars to the very distant horizon, where Central’s sky-reaching spires overshadowed every other city. Nickels and the others would be arriving soon. Whether they found one of the many military jumpjets secreted around Central and got it working or used whatever machine Fenris and the other ancient warriors had used to land on the planet unnoticed, they would be coming soon.

  Vasily pinched the bridge of his nose. He should let Nickels in, allow the man access to the Box, but … he couldn’t. Things had already gone so far down this road of denial that to give in seemed pointless. The man’s rage was at its highest. Simply letting him in wouldn’t make things better. It would make them worse.

  Vasily dabbed at the blood coming from his ear. He should see a medical doctor. There were dozens on staff in The Peak. Most were devoted to keeping political prisoners alive after receiving egregious damage. Not every doctor who worked in The Peak fell under Hollyoak’s twisted spell.

  “Did you kneel?” Vasily asked the Twoesie standing beside him. Every God soldier he’d met with since landing at The Peak followed his orders as always. They listened to his commands, understood what he wanted, and hastened to obey. Even now, God soldiers were fortifying The Peak, ensuring that no man, not even the Five, could get in without losses.

  “OverCommandersa?” The Twoesie engaged a few heavy switches and part of The Peak rumbled.

  “You heard me, soldier.” Vasily turned his binoculars to the sky. The OIPs, what they carried, were possibly the last hope for them all.

  If they, too, didn’t turn.

  “Yes, sa, I knelt.” Twoesie Sammel nodded. “We all did.”

  Vasily put his field glasses down and turned to confront the soldier. There was no anger left. He just genuinely wanted to understand why his men had knelt, why they’d yielded. The honor-bound giants were very deadly serious about such things; even though Nickels had fought only a few in hand-to-hand combat, all of them had yielded, which, for them, was the same result as if they’d battled. They would follow his commands.

  “Why, man, why?”

  Sammel looked down at the OverCommander, perhaps for the first time realizing how small the man who’d led them all was, and how much smaller the man who would lead them was than that. “He asked us to. His voice … sang.”

  “I don’t understand.” Vasily had listened to Garth’s … commands … on the way over, straining to hear anything at all in the impossibly complex sounds issuing forth out of the man’s mouth that had any hint of order, of command. He’d heard nothing but … sound. “Why did that work? What did he say?”

  Sammel shrugged and engaged a few more switches. “He asked us to kneel, we knelt. He asked us to yield, we yielded. He asked Sa Gurant the Betrayer for his head, his head was given.”

  That was a new thing; Vasily had gotten the same answers from a Onesie and a Foursie, but ‘Sa Gurant the Betrayer’ was an embellishment none of the others had uttered. “What do you mean by that?”

  “It is a thing some of us are talking about, OverCommandersa. Gurant wanted to be … wanted to be … One. Wanted all of us to be him? Wanted to be us?” Sammel shook his head. Words were so clumsy. “It happened to him once, when he fought in The Museum against the Hero Bosch. He was desperate to succeed, and … became All-in-One? The soldiers fighting fought as him. He wanted that again, except all of us. Everywhere.”

  Vasily slammed a fist against the thick glass window of the observation deck hard enough to leave a bloody smear. God soldiers did not act like this. “And that was a betrayal?”

  “Only because Sa Garth N’Chalez won, OverCommandersa.” Sammel took the OverCommander’s hand in his and looked at the wound. “If it had been the other way around … none of you would be alive to care what we called The N’Chalez. This wound is small, OverCommandersa. You should seek medical attention for your other damage, though. The flesh is weak, OverCommandersa. You have ruptured many blood vessels.”

  The flesh is weak. Vasily snorted and turned his attention back to the skies. The first of the OIPs were slamming into the rocky terrain fifteen miles away. Impact waves boomed and popped, the invisible pressure hammering trees and flinging debris for miles in every direction.

  From the dust, God soldiers rose.

  Vasily sent the protection orders. As with the men in The Peak, they signaled understanding.

  They said the understood, but would they battle Nickels and the Five or would they let the man walk through unharmed?

  “The flesh is weak.” Vasily chuckled. “Isn’t it just.”

  Then he collapsed, blood leaking from both ears, both eyes and one nostril.

  Sammel considered the tasks he had left. The Peak was secure enough. He bent, scooped his old commanding officer up like a child grabs a rag doll, and set about hunting for the nearest doctor.

  Outside, OIPs continued falling, soldiers continued rising.

  The HIM Says WHAT?

  Griffin nodded appreciatively at the security measures taken to protect the HIM down through the millennia. The funny part was the fact that the whole time they’d been inventing more devious and infinitely more deadly traps to secure their ‘First Main’, they’d been doing so to protect it from their own people.

  If they’d had even an inkling of its true powers, its true capabilities –not to mention the utter, fantastic wealth it could’ve given them- well, Griffin reckoned they would’ve spent less time building Hulk-sized super-soldiers and giant robotic meat-men and more time figuring out a way to turn their entire solar system into an armor-plated collection of planets.

  “What do you want with the First Main?” Alyssa asked, shifting nervously away from the Enforcer. The flight over had been exhilarating and terrifying; over the course of centuries, the Army had perfected the technology behind solo flight, promptly prohibiting civilians from doing the same. She’d understood why the moment the Enforcer had wrapped an arm around her waist and taken to the sky. Even with technological aid, it took consummate skill.

  “Oh.” Griffin drawled the word out. “Y’know. Stuff.”

  “I’m giving you access.” Alyssa wheedled gently. “Surely you can tell me something of what it is you have planned.”

  “Y’know,” Griffin leaned against the wall behind him, “if this here was a movie, Ah for sure would be spillin’ all sorts of innerestin’ things about your ‘First Main’, on account o’ how the viewin’ audience needs to be led along in case they forgit stuff. Short attention spans and all that.”

  Alyssa bit back a curse of disappointment but remained undaunted. “What harm can it do? You clearly know more than anyone else about the First Main. Why else would you, why would Trinity, want it so badly?”

  Griffin sn
iffed. “Why don’t ya’ll tell me something about this here system an’ Ah’ll see how Ah feel.”

  Alyssa gestured grandly. They were at the negotiating table now. All it would take to reel the Enforcer in were answers that –if it gained her insight into the Main- it would cost nothing to reveal. “Ask away.”

  “Why’d ya’ll flee Trinityspace in the first place?” Griffin had never even bothered to ask the universal AI about their reasons. Not, he reflected dourly, that the damn thing would’ve ever told him.

  “We were fleeing Trinity.” Alyssa answered. Every schoolchild knew the reason. Even those men and women and … beings in Trinityspace who had a reason to be interested in solar systems and galaxies beyond their own stretch of stars knew that. She smiled and waited for reciprocity.

  “Gee, thanks, miss, how’s about Ah just tell ya all th’ secrets of everthang now.” Griffin rolled his hand. “Try agin.”

  Alyssa blinked, bewildered. That was it. That was the sum total of everything anyone in Latelyspace knew about their flight from Trinity’s rule. They’d fled. They’d come here. They’d survived and flourished. The Sigma Fives had destroyed every bit of machinery capable of storing information during their ‘departure’. Alyssa told Griffin almost the whole truth, turning the actual loss of data into a terrible and unforeseeable accident.

  Griffin sucked noisily at a tooth for a minute. The Suit was saying the woman was telling the truth, but he’d figured out pretty quick during his drive across the whole goddamn planet that the woman was also batshit insane. No amount of high-tech gadgetry powered by who-knew-what was gonna beat that. A nutjob who thought what was coming out of his or her mouth was the truth would pass every lie detector in the universe. Hell, Alyssa would pass the Egyptian soul test with flying colors.

  Liars called to liars, though. Griffin knew the woman was lying, just not about anything important. At the end of the day, all that mattered was all the historical documents covering their flight from Trinity had been destroyed. Over five thousand years, any attempt at orally preserving those documents would've failed.

  “That ain’t good enough t’ get ya’ll to learn mah name.” Griffin drew in a noisy breath. “How fuckin’ far down is this thing?”

  “A mile.”

  “And ya’ll saw fit to have this goddamn elevator move at a snail’s pace?”

  “Even,” Alyssa replied coolly, “on a world where I have infinite control, there are people of power, Sa Enforcer. Everyone is watching everyone else, and everything else. Someone, somewhere, would see a power spike below Central City’s streets. They might not know what it is they are looking at, but we Latelians …”

  “Are curious cats. Yeah, yeah, Ah get it.”

  “Do small spaces bother you, Sa Enforcer?” Alyssa asked this as sweetly, as innocently as possible.

  “Chairwoman, Ah am in a Suit of armor capable of withstandin’ the pressure of a fucking black hole. Ah have been assaulted by leviathans that fly through space, beasts as big as stars. Ah ain’t afraid o’ no fuckin’ small spaces.” Griffin shook his head. “But what Ah am, you silly cunt, is bored to death.”

  “How dare you!” Alyssa –the small part of her that remained sane- watched on in aghast awe as she actually launched herself at the armor-clad minion of Trinity. That last bit of rationale fled as she tried to bite the man on the chest, howling and shrieking.

  Griffin stood there, ignoring the Latelian’s surprisingly violent attack in favor of examining the data that was suddenly flying across his visor; the Suit, apparently bored as well, had started a DNA scan on the saliva currently dribbling down his chest, and the results were … intriguing. More than intriguing. Theoretically impossible. Griffin wondered if Trinity knew.

  Griffin grabbed hold of the taller woman by the neck and held her at arm’s length. Alyssa continued trying to claw through his armor, so he rattled her around a bit until she got the idea: fifteen seconds of ragdoll treatment and Alyssa’s arms hung loosely at her sides. Griffin laughed when he saw that her eyes were still wobbling in their sockets.

  “Fucking Offworld scum. Trash. Trinity mindslave.” Alyssa muttered the words around a neck held tight.

  “Ah’m much worse’n that, sweetheart. Ah’m a sign o’ th’ end o’ days. Now,” Griffin asked politely, “are ya’ll gonna try an’ spontaneously develop adamantium claws or would y’prefer to see if ya’ll can actually chew through m’armor? Ah ask on account o’ how Ah just learned somethin’ that Ah find fuckin’ interestin’ and Ah am willin’ to share.”

  “What’s amamantiumclaws?” Alyssa asked woodenly.

  “Adamant … Jesus. Are ya’ll gonna shut up an’ lissen?” Griffin really wanted to tell someone what he’d just found out. He’d prefer to call Trinity up and go ‘Nananana look what Ah know’ but the moment he did that was the moment the artificial intelligence zapped him away, so crazy insane Chairwoman it was going to be. Besides, Griffin admitted to himself, it’d be fun to tell a regular old person what'd really happened. With the elevator traveling slower than a drunk toddler up a flight of stairs, they had the time.

  Alyssa nodded. She massaged her throat, glaring sullenly at the Enforcer as she did so; she wasn’t sure how she was going to manage it, but the Chairwoman promised herself that she was going to do whatever it took to punish the man for abusing her like this. If it was the last thing she did.

  “Awesome.” Griffin rubbed his hands together then threw them out as if he was a Hollywood producer framing out a scene. “Now, it’s thirty thousand years ago, all right? Humanity is at the brink of utter destruction. Everyone’s on one tiny little planet, everyone’s fightin’ for, well, everything. Not just th’ one planet, not even the one solar system, not even the one Galaxy. We are talkin’ the whole fuckin’ enchilada, Chairwoman. The whole of the Universe. It was an awesome time to be alive.”

  “You’re telling me you’re thirty thousand years old.” Alyssa couldn’t believe her ears. The black, mottled rage threatened to rise up again. “You’re telling me that you and …”

  “Fuck yeah, me and Garthie-boy go way back. We was on the same side, back then. Well, sorta. Anyway, don’t distract me. So. Big ole war, everyone dyin, everyone screamin’, blah blah blah. The so-called Armies of Man realized they was havin’ a real difficult time fightin’ the enemy and protectin’ civilians, so we all whipped up artificial intelligence on the quick and said ‘protect the people, make sure they survive and flourish.” Griffin paused long enough to see that the Chairwoman was picking up what he was putting down. Seeing the slow, drawn out realization blossom on the woman’s mad-as-fuck face was priceless. He held up a hand. “Now, as far as ideas go, it was a good’un. But … and here’s th’ thing, the leaders for th’ Armies weren’t so shit-hot keen on the idea of a machine mind runnin’ the whole show behind the scenes, so they contracted my buddy Garth to whip up a handful o’ machines capable o’ makin’ sure that the AI didn’t get out o’ hand. Makes sense, right? Don’t want the machines to get the upper hand?”

  Alyssa nodded. She knew she was mad, and, she reflected sadly, probably had been for some time, but madness hadn’t affected her ability to reason. Skewed it, certainly, tainted it, most definitely, but logic was logic. “You’re talking about the First Main. Garth Nickels built our First Main.”

  “Well, in truth he built five o’ the things. One for each of the commanders running the big show. Ah confess, Ah don’t rightly know much about the actual machines themselves, but Ah do know this … the programs keeping humanity alive had a feature built in where, if, say, it was faced with a problem that would cost, like, a hundred thousand lives, the computers would demand a majority vote be made by the commanders, who would then decide one way or t’other. An’ the machine mind would have to obey. If a commander wanted to make a change to the operating processes of that mind, the computer he or she was using would alert the other commanders, and they’d all have a serious shoutin’ match. If they came to agreement or majority vote,
wham. Change to the code is done an’ everyone goes back to dyin’ on the field o’ battle.”

  “Are you telling me…?” Alyssa trailed off, staring at a space far below their feet.

  Griffin laughed loud enough to split a gut. “That ain’t even the funny part, old gal. The punch line comes next. Now, it got t’the point where everyone was so fuckin’ busy fightin’ and whatnot that the commanders chose people of supreme honesty, loyalty and integrity to run interference for ‘em. Representatives of humanity so far beyond reproach that they were practically fuckin’ saints. They was keyed into the DNA sequencer, given a machine, and off they went. The funny part? The real funny part? Thirty thousand years later, the lengths Trinity has gone through to ensure that Humanity has survived and flourished should’ve obliterated the DNA lines capable of loggin’ into one of the computers. Ah mean, come on. One o’ the first things people started doin’ when ya’ll hit th’ stars was doin’ crazy shit like addin’ gills, flippers, cat tails, extra eyeballs, four legs, no legs, external carapaces, all manner of fucked up shit. Stretch that out across thirty millennia and there shouldn’t be a single goddamn solitary person other than me and Garth who should be able to use ‘em. How many crazy fuckers have sat their asses on the Chair?”

  “H-h-hundreds. Thousands.” Alyssa’s mind refused to work. Below their feet was a machine with the power to Trinity. They’d had the ability to rule the Universe right from the start. She laughed, long, hard, and loud.

  “And that is a thing that shouldn’t be.” Griffin nodded once, just to assure the Chairwoman he wasn’t messing around. “Now, Ah got a couple ideas on how that might’ve worked, but still, it ain’t make no sense. That there is a lot of plannin’. More than even he is able t’do.”