by Tobias Roote
He felt Krendar’s mind behind the incredible pressure and understood not only what he was doing, but how he was doing it. He held back just enough to let Krendar believe he had him contained, then sent a strong attack bolt across to the guards. The effect was instantaneous. The guards, already wide open under the manipulating control of the secretary, were unable to manage the overload and their minds closed down, even their autonomous system would not obey any commands as they collapsed to the floor. Aaron had no idea whether he had killed them or not. He only knew that had the Grith done so, the damage to the trust built up in the last twenty four hours would be gone, or severely damaged. He’d decided to stop them even though it probably exposed his talents to the enemy.
The hold on the guards released as Kreebo retreated from the attack on him from Aaron, who now had a lot of information on what was transpiring in the chamber. Melbray and the others were in extreme danger, but he had no time to process it. He needed to silence the secretary quickly.
The impression of the proceedings he absorbed indicated that he, Aaron, was being blamed for the deaths of the guards. There was no mention of them being Nangarl, except the accusation was refuted by Krendar who implied it was a wild excuse for Aaron to remove their only defence and take over the Tower. Who would believe an acolyte that had infiltrated the Tower and then used a pack of wild animals to take out innocent bystanders. There was lots more of the same and he felt his anger rise, but Aaron needed to concentrate his attack.
His initial blast at the guards had continued up the mindlinked channel so as the secretary retreated, Aaron’s fury drove his attack directly into Kreebo’s mind before the other had an opportunity to raise his defences. The man’s mind definitely wasn’t as strong as Krendar’s and was ultimately unable to mount a viable defence. The guards had obviously been an easy target and required little skill on Kreebo’s part to manipulate, but more than that he’d obviously depended on Krendar’s strength to protect him.
Krendar had misjudged the situation thinking that Aaron was an easy target, and that a simple distraction and then a hard-pressed mental punch to his mind would deal the fatal blow to Melbray’s support. He believed that without the aid of the Grith the defence of the Tower would fall to him and Krendar could resume his iron-grip on the Council.
Aaron had yet to bloody himself on a mental attack against a Sentinel enemy, but he did so now with surgical precision. He first demolished the Kreebo’s ability to draw power from others. It was pitiful anyway, but it represented 50% of his total strength. Without it Kreebo was next to useless. He next reduced his talent to nothing by sending a powerful stream to the part of his brain that held his ability to ‘path anyone. The overload to that area caused Kreebo to scream out loud in the Council chamber which attracted attention from people within. He felt the pressure in his own head ease as Krendar drew back some of his attention to see what was happening to his accomplice.
The distraction, small though it was, gave Aaron the opportunity he had been waiting for. While Krendar tried to find out who had attacked Kreebo, Aaron retaliated with all of his power against Krendar, using the knowledge he had sucked from the Nangarl’s mind before the Grith broke his neck. He pushed his attack and drove Krendar’s mind back into the Council chamber. He then followed it through with the same precision he had used on Kreebo. It wasn’t as easy and in accessing Krendar’s mind he realised that the man was as strong as he was, and possibly, just possibly, Aaron might not be able to beat him. As if Krendar realised his advantage he rallied and pushed back at Aaron who sensed the power as it flowed from his adversary. Aaron’s own power withered under the onslaught and as he attempted to pull energy from others in the Tower, felt his way blocked by supporters of Krendar who were anticipating his every move.
Krendar now ignored everything else that was going on and attacked Aaron with renewed mental vigour. Aaron could no longer block the Krendar, his shield would not work in the current format of his own attack leaving him vulnerable. As Krendar pushed his own formidable power up the channel towards Aaron he felt his own strength draining by some method that Krendar was using to tap it, doubling his own power and crushing Aaron’s before him.
There was nothing he could do, his own power alone wasn’t enough to match his opponent. He couldn’t ask others for help, they were now fighting their own battles within the chambers against Krendar’s supporters. Yet, if he had no help now he would be finished.
A vaguely familiar tendril touched his mind and before he could respond against the new attack the words formed in his head.
“Take mine,” she said and as Aaron felt the mind open partially to him, he felt a talent behind it that was as strong as his own.
The push towards Aaron halted as he pulled in the energy he needed. He repelled Krendar’s final attack, and as it collapsed he realised that it had been Krendar’s last-ditch attempt and there was nothing more behind it . As Aaron blasted through the failing defence using the combined power of his unknown helper, Krendar’s mind quickly unravelled giving up its knowledge at the same time as Aaron took from him the ability to ever use his talent again. Ironically, the same treatment that the village elders had wanted to give to him, he now gave to Krendar. It was fitting justice as it was on his order that Aaron and others like him be crippled in the first place.
It was finished and as he sensed approval from the mind joined to his he was left with the impression that justice had been served for more than he could know. He sank back into the chair and felt the Grith sitting close beside him, its hackles still extended, and considered the mind currently joined to his.
Before he could ask anything of his benefactor she withdrew with a parting message. “A debt repaid in full, with thanks,” and she was gone. Whilst Aaron recognised the mental signature, he didn’t know who it belonged to. However, he had picked up a small amount of leakage from her mind and he visually connected it to his view of a girl yesterday, running and hugging one of the prisoners who had been released from the basement prison.
He smiled at the memory of her running figure and the glimpse of her face, then as the chamber doors opened, he was greeted with the view of his enemy sitting at the table at the end of the room. He had a vacant look about him and was drooling onto his tunic.
Krendar was finished as leader of the Council. The war for the Tower was over.
- 27 -
Aaron waited impatiently in the anteroom of the council chambers. They had met this morning and Melbray, now the First Lord of the Watchtower, had summoned him after it had concluded. He had no idea what it was about and he had been pulled away from the clean-up operations.
Mostly things had returned to normal and the Grith that had initially patrolled the corridors had largely vanished back to the forest. One, an old grey that had shadowed him for most of the journey from his homeland was now his appointed guardian. His den Mother insisted that he take on this duty as he was getting too old to run and hunt and they needed to move swift and sure to build the Grith into a powerful pack taking on their new responsibilities of patrolling the Nangarl borders, keeping out further hunting parties. Aaron realised that in the long term the Nangarl problem would need to be resolved, but the Sentinels had important work to do first, rebuilding the Sar society that had fallen into disrepair under Krendar.
The full extent of the damage had not become known until the last few days and now they were looking to find the means to restore faith and confidence in the Sentinel programme. It was the reason for this morning’s meeting and Junto had laughed when Aaron had requested to join them. “You cannot attend a meeting where you might be the subject of the agenda, young two-legger,” he responded locking down his mind tight against any sneaky tendrils from Aaron. He had learned quickly that Aaron’s new methods were superior to his own and had adopted them in self defence of Aaron’s talents. He chuckled as he felt Aaron’s attempt to open him up.
The door opened causing the old grey beside him to stir, sitting up
in readiness to protect his charge. Aaron held the animal’s scruff affectionately and mind-linked to the Grith. “Easy, old man, the battles are done, they probably just want to complain about the smell you make,” he laughed mentally, only the smile on his face betrayed anything to anyone watching.
The large wiry head turned in his direction and Aaron found that sitting brought him eye to eye with his companion. “Your Mother never told you, but it took weeks to get your smell off her coat after you sheltered from the rapids,” and with that the old Grith lumbered off towards the open door. It looked back and Aaron detected the grin in its snarl and laughed. The other reason for the old grey being left with him was its command of the Sar language ensuring messages between Aaron and the pack would be transmitted reliably.
Aaron followed him in, still chuckling.
Melbray met them at the door stepping aside to let the Grith in ahead of them.
“I see your pet is still by your side,” Melbray said guardedly as they squeezed past him. None of the Sar were comfortable with the huge carnivores around them.
Aaron chuckled some more. ”He’s not my pet, Mel, he’s my chaperone. I can’t get near any of the ladies, they run when they see him and hate it when he puts his head on their laps.”
A tendril of thought drifted across from the Grith “What makes you think he was referring to me, two-legger?” as he slumped down on the rug provided for him.
Melbray chuckled, but said nothing. He was still getting used to the Grith being telepaths AND sentient. It was taking the whole of Sar society by storm and there was much wringing of hands at the poor treatment that had been meted out to them in the past. They were in the process of being reclassified as protected which had gone a long way in cementing the alliance between Grith and Sar.
“We have been discussing your future this morning, Aaron. You might be interested to know there wasn’t any opposition to you being added to the rolls and you will shortly be welcomed as a new member of the Council. However, that wasn’t the main reason for the meeting,” he paused while he resumed his seat. The Grith groaned comfortably, the rug a pleasant change from the hard floor.
Aaron was pleased with the appointment to the Council, but this still left him with no idea what to do. He was too adept to remain an acolyte, his once-wild power now partially tamed, was still uncommon amongst the other sentinels. He would not fit in to the existing framework of training and there was no master skilled enough, other than his current companions, to tutor him. This left him with a sense of loss which was strange considering he had never had anything to do with the Watchtower before.
“You are aware that from the discovery of records that Krendar has been suppressing for sometime that the incidence of talented telepathy has been increasing. It is expected to represent more than 50% of the population within the next generation and as that generation joins and has offspring, it will impart the talent to almost every living Sar within a few decades after that.”
“Yes, it seems we have more wild talent turning up for training every day now that the fear of Krendar’s crippling of strong developers has been halted. I believe we will be the better for it and I’m looking forward to getting involved, but just don’t know how I can assist.” Aaron was frustrated. He was hoping to hear something about his new duties and was impatient for his mentor to get to the point. Obtusely, Melbray was insisting that the discussions in Council were maintained through physical speech as mental debate had been bleeding out into the offices attached to the Council through poorly maintained shields. The speech also slowed down the process of decision-making, but did allow for more thought and consideration beforehand which in the end, benefited everyone.
“Well, you might find that the Council have wise heads on their shoulders in the wake of Krendar and want to harness that talent as much as possible. However, not all talents will want to enter the Watchtower and this means increasing numbers of wild talents working out there in the midst of society. There is already talk of division and if we are not careful there will be another splitting as with the Nangarl. We cannot afford such a weakening of our society again.” Melbray was drumming absently as he looked hard at the Grith that was sleeping and yipping quietly as it ran with the pack through its permanent mind-link.
“What we need is a force which can keep the stronger telepaths in check while they develop and ensure that no unfair advantage is taken within day-to-day life in the cities and towns. We want to increase the Watchers and involve them in maintaining law and order. The new order will be required to monitor and balance the emotional imbalances that increasingly seem necessary as our people talk less and less and communicate more and more through their mental links.” Melbray was musing, approaching the issue at an angle, but Aaron could see where he was headed and let him continue. Inside him a whisper of excitement began to grow.
“The Council have accepted the testaments of Junto, Gedrack and myself of your abilities and have concluded that your still-wild talent is stronger than any other Sar whilst still maturing. We have recommended that you become First Watcher under the new Tower and your links to the Grith and their ability to sense the Nangarl is considered paramount to the future security of our society. Junto and myself are to be your overseers until you are accepted fully by the Tower. You are to add to your numbers by vetting and training your own teams. You will have no time to run with the Grith and you must use all your skill to bring balance to the people out there.” He looked directly at him.
“Much needs doing, Aaron. I make no pretence that Krendar has ruined much in preparation for his ascent as leader of the Sar. You must be diplomatic in your handling of your charges and at the same time measure the justice you give.” He looked shrewdly at Aaron as if measuring him to the job he had described.
“Did we choose wrongly two-legger?” Melbray used his adopted Grith name. The Old Grey’s head came up and some private exchange went back and forth between the two old-timers. The Grith grunted as his head fell back and resumed its dozing while Melbray smiled knowingly.
“It seems the Grith approve, even if you seem silent on the matter,” Melbray proffered by way of explaining the exchange.
In truth Aaron was silenced by the thought of the task before him. He had anticipated some role in rebuilding the Sentinel programme, but had never considered he would head it. His youth and inexperience was against him, even now he realised it was holding him back.
A tendril of thought entered his mind. “You will do as needed, two-legger. The den Mother has overheard and believes you are the one to rectify the balance, you will represent us also in this. It is right for you to accept. Be a man now two-legger, leave indecision behind you and do as bidden.” The Grith didn’t stir.
Aaron smiled. “It will be as you say, Melbray. We will begin immediately,” and he let out the tension he had been holding in for the last few hours and allowed his mind to open in relief. He immediately sensed his friends minds on the edges of his, waiting for his acceptance. His den Mother too; all happy at his decision. As Aaron realised they had all secretly contributed to his new fate, he laughed at their benevolent duplicity and felt their strength as his, their affection flowed over him and he knew that everything would be as she said. He was the right man for this and as First Watcher he would bring in a new era.
He could not know then just how hard that new era was going to test him.
End of Part 1
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The first book in the best selling new SF trilogy from Tobias Roote
In the year 2020, Zirkos finds himself on earth among the "indigenous bipeds who appeared to be harmless gatherers," two billion years after his ship crashed and he entered extended hibernation. To fit in his surroundings and mesh with the inhabitants as well as build a new ship, Zirkos must utilize the patterning technology.
As a homeless man, Zeke has worked hard to claim an alley as his own territory. A restaur
ant backs onto the alley, with staff leaving him food. Zeke wants to find employment, but he's on a government watch list. As if things aren't bad enough, Zeke also has a metal skull, made from a meteorite, which has bonded to his brain.
When Zirkos discovers the material in Zeke's head is Pheson Alacite, he faces a dilemma. Zirkos needs the material. On the other hand, Zeke will die if the material is removed without careful timing. With an intergalactic conflict to win and a need for human allies, Zirkos decides to team up with Zeke, rather than kill him. As the partnership leads to learning and growth for both Zirkos and Zeke, can they evade Zirkos' pursuers and fulfill their self-imposed mission?
Following on from The Pattern Ship, ‘POD’ the second book in the series, sees the newly sentient escape pod, accidentally enhanced by Zeke’s DNA-transformed Alacite, continue to develop as an individual.
Despite Zirkos and Ship remaining missing, the tiny AI continues to try and follow their instructions to assist the humans develop their technology. As the power struggle between Fortress and Space Island continues on Earth POD decides to await the outcome; concentrating instead on preparations to take on the real enemy, the Nubl.
and the concluding story in Nubl Wars (see Sky City for parallel storyline)
As the post-attack chaos forces Earth governments to realise they no longer have the ability to maintain order; the destiny of mankind falls to a select group of human and artificial intelligence to prepare a defence against annihilation by the Nubl hives.
Pod’s growing sentience causes problems when she lets her guard down. Zeke gets severely wounded, ultimately forcing the mutating DNA to intensify its activities. His friends and colleagues believe he cannot survive the transformation, but Zeke doesn’t give up easily.
