Cassius wasn’t sure how to respond. He steered the White Hand toward the Enclave, the starkest tower in the city, and descended through the ruptured ceiling. Countless frozen bodies of Tribunal soldiers lined the exposed streets, with combat mechs interspersed. The fighters that had escorted him all the way from Earth formed a line in front of the tall entrance to the Enclave and faced outward.
“You will need to wear an environmental suit upon exiting the White Hand, Creator,” ADIM said. “The exterior air is no longer suitable for human breathing in this sector. I will ensure that the oxygen levels within the Enclave are sufficient.”
“Thank you, ADIM.”
Cassius’ ship touched down. He sat there for a few seconds, staring forward as the massive plated doors of the Enclave rose. It’d been one of the most secure buildings in the entire Circuit, and now its entrance was wide open. Corpses were strewn upon the stairs extending down from them like fodder.
He took a deep breath, stood up, and headed out. He put on his enviro-suit in the cargo bay and lowered the exit ramp. It only took a few steps outside to notice that he’d never heard the city so quiet. The streets, once bustling with activity, were empty but for the dead. The trees lining them were gray and leafless, like skeletons dancing on a gentle breeze. Garbage and debris tumbled here and there, but that was the only movement. With Cassius present, the fighters patrolling the city had formed an outward-facing circle around the White Hand.
He climbed the steps to the Enclave and, once he was at the top, saw the remnants of two mechs sprawled out at either side of the doors. The inside was dark, but the moment his foot fell within the structure, lights began to turn on. They followed his path around the central atrium, allowing him a faint glimpse of the colossal stone statues of the first Tribunes rising through the center.
He’d been to the Enclave before. He’d even helped design the room that lay below the tower, buried safely beneath rock and steel. A mainframe there controlled what had become the Vale Protocol among other vital systems: a program that used a network comprised of hundreds of long-range relay arrays located throughout the Circuit in order to regulate all Tribunal ships. It was the project he’d dedicated himself to while still a Tribune to keep the unruly Ceresians at bay after the Earth Reclaimer War.
Monitor the positions of all Tribunal ships and ensure they couldn’t be stolen by Ceresians, who fancied themselves raiders and pirates. That was how they gathered enough firepower to last in the first war, after all. Like the White Hand, however, it took ADIM to uncover the true potential of the systems.
A lift at the back of the atrium led down, and its usually secure doors opened with a hiss before he even reached them. The lights within blinked on as if inviting him in, so in he went.
It was a short ride down, and when the doors opened and Cassius passed through another layer of penetrated security, he found exactly what he expected.
The protocol’s command center was a long rectangular room, the walls lined with tall databases and consoles. Every tech in charge of monitoring the program was dead, a single bullet hole in the center of their heads. On the far side stood the command console below a wide array of holoscreens displaying detailed maps of the Circuit, locating every tracked Tribunal ship.
Access to the command console was possible only with an iris and subdermal handprint scan from an acting Tribune. Cassius immediately figured out how ADIM got in. Tribune Joran Noscondra’s headless body lay at the foot of the command chair, a pool of dried blood beneath him. Sitting in that chair, facing Cassius and with Joran’s head on the counter behind him, was ADIM.
He didn’t move as Cassius arrived. He couldn’t. Wires extending from every piece of machinery in the room ran across the shiny floor and were strung into both the power core in his chest and the memory core in his head. They glowed so brightly that together with his slowly rotating eyes, the entire room was illuminated red.
“Welcome, Creator,” ADIM said, his voice filling the space. Every corner. Every crevice. “As you can see, I had to make a few modifications to your protocol, but I assure you it will soon be running at full potential.”
Cassius was speechless. He removed his helmet and shuffled forward. He almost slipped on the outstretched arm of a dead engineer, but caught himself in time to step over it.
“I apologize I was not able to clean up prior to your arrival,” ADIM continued. “Both my memory and power cores must remain linked in order to achieve the necessary processing power to maintain control over the fleet.”
“For the time being?” Cassius asked softly.
“I am working on addressing that issue by diverting the power for all of upper New Terrene into this console. Soon, the body you constructed for me will be able to stand at your side while I remain in control of the fleet.”
Cassius stopped once he got close enough to read the details on the map of the Circuit. Red blips surrounded every Tribunal settlement, but the largest cluster of them headed for Ceres Prime. The display also showed precisely where the operating solar-arks were located in their routes. And not only them, but he had control over the locations and visuals provided by active executors. Another upgrade apparently, compliments of ADIM’s intrusion through the entire Enclave. Nothing could surprise them.
“Creator, I was also able to procure a gift for you,” ADIM said. “I hope this time it is worthy.” His body didn’t move, but his head turned sluggishly to face something sitting on one end of the wraparound console.
That sight, amongst all the others, was the one that finally sucked all the air out of Cassius’ lungs. He needed to lean on the console just to stay upright, unsure about how he had missed it before. The glassy tube bearing the plant Caleb grew on Earth all those years ago sat directly in front of him.
“You took it?” Cassius said breathlessly.
“It did not belong to them.”
Cassius stumbled forward, stepping onto the center of Joran’s motionless back on his way. His fingers wrapped around the lukewarm tube. The spindly green plant floated in the center as it always had, bobbing up and down as he rotated it to see it from every angle.
“How did you manage all of this?” Cassius asked. His hands were beginning to shiver, so he grasped the back of a chair to hide it.
“It was simple once I was able to procure Tribune Noscondra. He was weak, as you have said, and unable to fight back. His people could have destroyed me at any time, Creator, but they let me take him, hoping I would spare him. None of them are worthy.”
“No… they weren’t, were they?”
Simple. Like strolling into the most defended city in the solar system and kidnapping one of its leaders was little more effort than repairing an air recycler.
ADIM’s body remained motionless, but his eyes rotated more rapidly. “Are you not satisfied?”
Cassius struggled to swallow; his throat was too dry. “ADIM, I…” He had to focus just to manage words. “I haven’t been prouder of you since the day you took your first step.”
“Now the Circuit can be rebuilt without ever having to concern ourselves with enemies again. There will never be a reason to conceal ourselves from those who are too weak to understand or uphold your will. Even the executors can no longer hide.”
Cassius placed his hand on ADIM’s face. It was hot to the touch from all the data he was currently processing—more than Cassius could even fathom. ADIM had discovered what he wanted in life and seized it like no other being ever had or could. Beyond what Cassius could have ever dreamed.
The android was literally handing him the keys to the entire Circuit—the crown of humanity. All Cassius had to do was stand quietly and he’d have a chance to be a ruler the likes of which hadn’t been known since the days of the Ancients. A chance to change everything… but to control nothing.
For everything Cassius ever accomplished, he realized at that very moment that his greatest accomplishment was rendering himself useless.
Sage was right. What wou
ld happen when he died and ADIM was left alone for all of eternity? Humanity would cease to exist. None would ever be worthy, because Cassius’ lust for revenge had ensured that in his eyes nobody ever would be.
“Your fleet is nearing position around Ceres Prime,” ADIM said. “I will be primed to initiate on your command.”
Primed to initiate. He would miss those words.
“No, ADIM,” Cassius sniveled. “It’s time for you to rest.”
He drew out his pulse-pistol, closed his eyes, and fired a round straight across the back of ADIM’s head. At such close range it tore through the metal casing enough for him to shove his fingers through. Caught in a transition period of relying on ADIM’s core, Cassius knew that all the systems comprising the Vale Protocol would deactivate with him.
“Creator, what are you doing?” ADIM asked.
His limbs stirred, but it was too late. Despite everything ADIM had done, there was only one person who knew precisely how he was constructed. Cassius shifted a few hidden switches on the memory core in a precise order, and ADIM’s eyes stopped spinning.
“Cre… a… tor,” his distorted voice said.
The purr of a dozen working consoles went quiet as ADIM’s power core dimmed. The map of the Circuit and all the red blips indicating the Tribunal ships he controlled went dark. The wires attached to him slid out. Then his head drooped forward, and his chassis slumped.
Cassius tried to catch it before it fell off the chair, but the body was too heavy for his old muscles to support. ADIM slammed into the floor. The impact caused Caleb’s plant to roll off the console.
Cassius dove for it, but the slick, glassy container slipped through his fingers and shattered. He pawed at the floor, slicing his hand on a shard of glass before he found the plant. It drooped over his bloody palm, too thin to support its frilly leaves on its own. He’d never touched it before, and as he did, he couldn’t help but laugh over the fact that the worthless, wiry, little shred of green had been the cause of everything.
Cassius laid it gently over ADIM’s chest and gazed down at his proudest creation, whose eyes had finally lost their red glow. The tears dripped down Cassius’ cheeks and splattered on his cold, metal frame—the last of his progeny. Another child, failed.
“Goodbye, ADIM,” Cassius said. “Goodbye, my son.”
27
Chapter Twenty-Seven—Sage
In the Tribune, the dead were cremated, their ashes sprinkled into the soil beneath a tree by a sightless Earth Whisperer. People with the proper means could even have their family members released directly into the atmosphere of Earth, to be closer to the Spirit. But there was no Earth anymore, and whether the Spirit went with it or not, Sage knew she wasn’t qualified to say. All she could do was fight to hold on to her faith.
In the Verge, the dead were expelled into space. Released into the Circuit, which continued to be the only thing that sustained them. Sage had heard from traveling merchants that you could see many of their crude metal caskets drifting in orbit around Neptune and Uranus or any of their moons.
In Ceresian colonies the dead were placed in communal crypts submerged deep inside their asteroids, to be fittingly placed back within the rock that bore them.
Presently, Sage stood in the crypt of Housing District 534 on Ceres Prime. Dim lights strung along the low rocky ceiling provided the entire hollow with an orangey glow. However, none of it could diminish the bright green of the drink Sage held as she stared at a narrow slot in the wall into which Talon’s body had been placed.
Ulson sat on a mechanized wheelchair to her right alongside his wife. She wasn’t sure how he’d survived their raid on the Tribunal freighter all those months ago, but he had. His body was covered in burns, and both of his legs were missing. Not everyone had access to synthetic limbs like she did.
On her left was Elisha. She’d found Talon’s daughter after she reached Ceres and discovered the Monarch already at the docks selling off scraps they’d scavenged from the many husks of ruined Tribunal ships dotting the asteroid belt. It was hard to imagine that the Spirit was completely gone when she wrapped her arms around the girl and gave her the final hug Talon would never get a chance to.
Sage wasn’t sure if Elisha truly understood what was going on, but the girl was misty eyed, staring silently at her father’s unadorned grave. Kitt stood beside her, with his hand on her shoulder. This time he was permitted to hold a drink of his own. He was the only Vergent present. Larana stayed with her ship, which was a wise choice considering Cassius’ and ADIM’s actions had left the Ceresian colonies essentially leaderless along with the rest of the Circuit.
Nobody else was present. The undertaker who ran the District 534 crypt was nowhere to be found, either killed in the war or having decided to abandon his job with so many better ones now available. It wasn’t the funeral Talon deserved, but it was the best Sage could offer. He would’ve been happy knowing that the blue death never got a chance to claim his life. And Elisha deserved to say goodbye.
“He was a good man,” Ulson said. He raised his glass, and both Sage and Kitt did the same. “Out of his mind, maybe, but gave Ceres a good name.”
He looked at Sage as if expecting her to say something. Her throat tightened. She had no idea what to say. She’d never been good with her feelings, and there weren’t any words in the Circuit that came to mind. Reciting a sermon to the Earth Spirit didn’t seem fitting. Instead, she lifted her glass to her lips and emptied it in a single gulp.
It was what a Ceresian would do.
Sage let Elisha have as long as she needed with the body. She remained close by the entire time, wanting to be sure she was there when Talon’s remains were sealed away, never to be seen again. She shed a few unexpected tears as it happened, but that was all.
She knew there was little reason to be sad. No amount of her love could deny the fact that he had been damned to die before they ever even met. But nobody, not Zaimur, not Cassius, could take away the fact that Talon didn’t die as some Ceresian mercenary scraping to earn credits however he had to. He’d died trying to protect his people.
“You comin’?” Kitt asked as everyone started filing out of the crypt, done with their speeches.
Sage nodded. She took one last moment to stare at the holopad embedded into Talon’s grave site. All it said was his name amongst the others buried there, but there was so much more she could write. All of the things she could tell Elisha once she was old enough to understand.
“I’ll look after her for the rest of my life,” Sage whispered. It wasn’t the most exciting mission, or the most dangerous, but it was one she was happy to take on.
She took Elisha’s hand and led her back through the tunnels of Ceres to the docks at the Buckle. The sense of anarchy throughout the settlement was plainly visible at every turn.
Morastus henchmen sat around with civilians, playing cards and drinking, not sure what to do next. Mercenaries belonging to other clans did the same. Traders throughout the docks sold whatever they wanted, for whatever they wanted, causing countless fights to break out. Even dismantled Tribunal fighters were put up for sale.
Once they were all aboard the Monarch and it took off, it was easy to see why. The Tribunal fleet was drifting around the asteroid like a pearly white ring caught in Ceres’ orbit. The Ascendant, the Viridian, numerous frigates, and countless fighters were all there with their lights off and with no pilots left alive. The lights of Ceresian scrapper ships flitted among them, the credit-hungry people wasting no time at taking advantage of a lucrative opportunity.
Only Sage knew what had really happened, and Cassius, wherever he was. Sage had stolen a Ceresian fighter out of the Hound’s Paw’s main hangar and fled Earth with Talon’s body.
The Tribunal fleet under the android’s control had trailed close behind. Sage came close to being struck by a missile a few times, but her piloting skills helped her to stay ahead of the other Ceresians in retreat.
The fleet followed her all the
way to Ceres. However, when it reached the asteroid, it just stopped. Not a single shot was fired.
Sage wasn’t sure what Cassius had done to stop his creation from destroying everything. It was like the Circuit itself was given a reset button. A chance to start over. The ruling factions were gone, Cassius disappeared, and all that remained was humanity.
It was enough to convince Sage to listen to Cassius’ final words and seek out whatever it was he wanted her to see. A chance at finding the missing solar-ark got Captain Larana to offer the use of her ship. And so, Sage, Elisha and the Vergents set out for Ennomos.
* * *
Nearly a week later, scanners picked up Ennomos. It’d been a smooth ride. No pirates or deadly encounters, though with the Tribune crippled, safety throughout the Circuit would certainly take a downturn. Back to the way it’d been before the Reclaimer War.
The Vergents didn’t talk much and Elisha barely did either. Sage didn’t mind. After everything, she could use some peace and quiet.
“Incomin’ transmission,” Kitt announced.
He reached around Elisha, who sat on his lap and was getting remarkably good at working piloting controls.
“Who is it?” Larana asked.
Sage stepped forward to get a better look at the asteroid through the viewport. It looked so plain that she couldn’t believe it could possibly have anything to do with Cassius and his flair for the dramatic.
“Not sure,” Kitt said. “It’s encrypted. I’m gettin’ similar readouts to the last Circuit-wide message Cassius sent out though.”
“Can you figure it out?”
“Workin’ on it.”
His fingers danced across the controls. Sage leaned in even closer. She was beginning to be able to make out a spine of metal running along a trough in the asteroid. It wasn’t surprising that the message was protected. Cassius was never one to divulge all his plans, and whatever he was hiding was meant only for her to discover. He’d banked on Sage seeking out Ennomos, and like he was so often, he was right.
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