Guardian Generations

by C. Osborne Rapley

  There was a knock on the door. She stepped back; the spell broke.

  She snapped a response, and the door opened. A male valet, or batman, opened the door, and stepped into the cabin carrying a tray. James studied him as he walked across the cabin. He carefully kept his eyes diverted from her as she barked orders. When she had finished, he nodded and walked over to a small ledge in the wall James had not noticed. James noted that the man’s mind seemed blank. As he walked to the ledge, it extended from the wall and formed a small table. He placed the tray on the table, turned and left without a word.

  She walked to the table, and as she did so two chairs rose up from the floor. She sat down, turned to James and indicated the chair opposite her. “Please sit and eat, Jamestaylor.”

  James rose and walked to the chair and sat down.

  He watched her as she lifted the cover off her plate. He did the same; the smell was wonderful. He could not remember how long ago it was since he had eaten a proper cooked meal. She picked up a utensil next to her plate that looked like a cross between a spoon and a knife. She used it to cut the food and place it into her mouth. James smiled to himself – he remembered his mother insisting that he not put his knife in his mouth. When he did so he noticed to his astonishment the blade seemed to blunt the cutting edge automatically. They ate in silence.

  James studied her as she ate. If she sensed his looking at her, she made no sign. Maybe she had resolved to ignore him. She had her emotions under control, and he could feel nothing from her. He noted that her skin had an olive tinge, her long jet-black hair pulled back in a braid. Her eyelashes were very long, her eyes large, and slightly slanted. She reminded James of the pictures of ancient Egyptian women with their accentuated eyes.

  The meal finished, she looked up; their eyes met. James felt his face flush as he sensed some of the tension return. She suppressed it with an effort and rose. As she did so the table retracted back into the wall taking the dirty dishes with it. James stood, and the chairs retracted back into the cabin floor so he walked to the couch and sat down. Ilithyia remained standing.

  “I will leave you now as I have other duties to attend to. I will be back tomorrow morning for breakfast. I will then commence your training.”

  She turned on her heel and walked out of the cabin, pausing only to close and lock the door.

  Twelve: Mordavia

  Octavian pulled his cloak hood down over his face. He saw Tristain do the same. She set off at a brisk pace to one of the main roads out of the city. It was still early, and there were few Cartigians about, and the ones that were took no notice of the two hurrying people.

  Once on the road Tristain picked up the pace. After several kilometres, the outskirts of the city gave way to scrubland. Tristain turned off the road that had started getting busy with wheeled and pedestrian traffic. Octavian noticed she was heading for a range of low wooded hills in the distance. The blood was pounding in Octavian’s ears and his breath coming in ragged gasps. To his relief, Tristain called a halt once they reached a small coppice of trees. They were now out of sight of the road and well away from the city.

  Octavian sank down with his back to a tree. He pulled off the hood of his cloak and took a lung full of cool air. He glanced across at Tristain, who had sat and leant against a tree opposite him. She was looking at him with a strange expression on her face. Once she saw he was looking back at her she smiled.

  “What?” Octavian asked, his breath returning to normal.

  “I’m sorry, it’s just that I always imagined the original Guardians to be some sort of super race in a funny sort of way. In reality, you are quite ordinary.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to be a disappointment!” Octavian remarked with a touch of sarcasm to his voice.

  Tristain lifted her hand to her mouth. “Oh dear, I didn’t mean it quite as it sounded.” She suddenly looked over her shoulder up the hill. “Quickly, there is an armed patrol moving towards my ship.”

  She stood, discarded her Cartigian cloak and activated her battle armour. Octavian did the same. Tristain ran up the hill, Octavian following. He was grateful for his armour, the servo systems were taking the strain of running up the slope and he could keep pace with Tristain easily.

  She suddenly stopped and held up an armoured hand.

  They are close; there are a dozen of them just over that ridge. She pointed to a small low ridge to their left. There is another larger group a little way off to our right.

  Octavian keyed his tactical computer. It showed the smaller group. The larger patrol was sufficiently far away so as not to pose an immediate threat if they moved quickly. The tactical computer also picked up the faint signal of a cloaked ship just beyond the first group. The patrol was making its way to the ship.

  Octavian pulled out his pistols. “If we run through them, we can take them out while making for your ship.”

  Tristain nodded. “Yes.”

  She drew her pistol. They both ran towards the patrol. The first two never knew what hit them. The remainder turned, raising their weapons. Tristain’s and Octavian’s charge took the Cartigians by surprise, such that they fired wildly and the last two fell without either Tristain or Octavian being hit. They ran straight for Tristain’s ship without pausing. Octavian could see it shimmering between the trees – the cloaking systems were so effective they even had some effect on visible light causing the shimmer.

  When they were a few metres from the ship, the entrance hatch slid open. Octavian and Tristain dived into the airlock.

  Cassiopeia, get us out of here fast! Tristain almost shouted out loud.

  Octavian staggered and put a gauntleted hand to his faceplate.

  “Wow, that hurt!”

  Tristain turned as her armour folded away into her belt.

  “What hurt? Have you been hit?”

  Octavian shook his head, “No I’m OK. It was your command to your ship – there was an awful lot of power behind it!”

  The ship lurched.

  “Quickly, the bridge.” Tristain opened the inner airlock and started to run to the front of her ship. Octavian followed close behind. She indicated a seat and console to the right of the command chair.

  “Weapons control.”

  Octavian set himself down and pulled on the harness. The seat moulded itself to him. He accessed the targeting computer, and caught his breath as a vista of stars suddenly appeared in front of him. Over his shoulder, he could see the fast retreating planet’s surface.

  An unfamiliar telepathic contact touched his mind. Guardian, enemy ships approaching from the left.

  Octavian swung his head and the stars momentarily blurred as three ships swung into view. He activated the targeting system, and an almost detached part of his mind felt relief that things had not changed markedly from the ships and systems he was used to. The targeting cross hairs quickly centred on the leading ship. The firing trigger fell easily to his right hand, and he squeezed the trigger. The computer took care of the speed and relative movements of the ships. The lead ship shuddered then exploded. Octavian moved his attention to the second ship, the targeting system automatically following where he looked. He squeezed the trigger again, and just as he did so Tristain engaged the Star Drive. Octavian saw the stars become like rainbow streaks across his field of view. The ship he had fired upon and the crescent of the planet beneath disappeared from his field of vision. He broke his link with the weapons computer; while the Star Drive was active they were safe. Octavian released his straps and spun his chair to face Tristain. She was obviously still linked with the ship’s systems, so he sat quietly and waited.

  After engaging the Star Drive, Tristain interrogated Cassiopeia. She had sensed the momentary flash of confusion and revulsion from Octavian the night before, when he had noticed she was part Sicceian. For some reason, she could not understand it had affected her more than the prejudice of her mother’s people.

  I want to know what information you have on mixed race Sicceian and Lantian. She wa
s surprised to sense hesitation from Cassiopeia; however, it was only momentary.

  From the very beginning it was forbidden for Lantians to mate with the other races. If it ever happened, any issue was immediately terminated.

  Tristain was shocked. Why?

  She thought she felt Cassiopeia sigh.

  In the beginning, when the Lantians decided to construct the other races there was dissent from many. They thought it was wrong to interfere with natural evolution. They were against the natural order of things being interfered with. There was a lot of discussion on the subject. To cut a long story short, a compromise was agreed upon. There were to be safeguards.

  What safeguards?

  To ensure control, and to prevent any single synthetic race overrunning other worlds and races the genetic code contained a key that could be activated by a certain arrangement of enzymes. This caused sterility within the particular race it was administered to.

  Tristain shuddered. That is disgusting! What right had they to do that? The bastards were setting themselves up as Gods.

  Yes, Tristain, their motives for interfering with the natural evolution on all those many worlds in the first place was questionable.

  Tristain was surprised at Cassiopeia’s remark. But, you were part of it; you were constructed to help control the synthetic races!

  Don’t forget I was constructed thousands of years after these decisions were made. You could say I was built to help put things right.

  So what has this got to do with this original Guardian’s attitude towards me?

  For the safeguards to work the races had to remain pure. There was no problem ensuring sterility between the different races, but the geneticists could not ensure the same between the races and the Lantians as they used a large portion of their own genetic code during the construction. They had originally made it impossible, but doing so caused an issue where the fertility within each race seemed to reduce over a few generations. So the possibility of a Lantian/Synthetic cross had to remain.

  The only solution to prevent it happening was education and training among the Lantians. To have any sexual encounter with the other races was strictly forbidden. Over time, any such thing was looked upon with horror.

  Tristain thought for a moment. There must be something else as well?

  She felt Cassiopeia pause almost as if the machine were thinking.

  The races do not evolve because there is no possibility of randomness in their genetic makeup. A hybrid would regain its genetic randomness from the Lantian half of its genetic code. The result would be unknown and uncontrollable. They relied on the fact that if it did occasionally happen, and it slipped the net, that there was a high probability over a few generations the randomness in the code would be slowly replaced and diluted.

  So where does that leave me?

  In your case, your speed, and telepathic abilities are far stronger than your mother’s or your father’s. You are the strongest Guardian I have ever served.

  Why didn’t you tell me, or my family for that matter, all this before?

  You did not need to know. As far as I was concerned, the old order had long since passed.

  Tristain sat for a moment considering what the avatar had told her. She decided to put the information to one side and concentrate on the issues at hand. She turned to the old Guardian. He was sitting quietly watching her.

  Octavian had waited until Tristain turned towards him. “Where are we going?”

  Tristain seemed to study him for a moment, letting his question hang in the air. Octavian noticed the pause before she replied. “I have set a course for Mordavia. It was too dangerous to stay around and try to locate my cousin James. I have a feeling everything that has happened is linked in some way, so Mordavia seems to be a good place to start.”

  Octavian nodded. “Do you know how or why he was taken?”

  “No, but I will find out. Cassiopeia?” The avatar stood and faced the two Guardians. “What happened to James Taylor?”

  The machine was not capable of a three-way telepathic link so she spoke out loud.

  “He was outside investigating the alien fauna. He became increasingly excited by being on an alien planet, and his untrained mind was open. I was concentrating on looking for physical threats such as ships, aircraft, or troops, so I was not expecting a telepathic attack. Someone or something must have sensed his open mind. They seem to have taken control, and he moved away from the ship. They acted quickly; a troop carrier had flown in low behind the hill shielding it from my sensors. They dropped the troops you saw and captured James Taylor at the same time.”

  “Did you see where they took him?”

  “No, Tristain, I did not. They dropped behind the hill again, avoiding my sensors. Just before he was taken, I activated his dormant telepathic capabilities. I had only enough time to download a basic training lesson to his mind before something blocked him from me. It should be sufficient for him to be able to control his abilities and put up a basic shield to his thoughts.”

  “Good thinking, Cassiopeia, in hindsight we should have done it earlier. If he had some control, they might not have been alerted to his presence here.”

  “Why do you think you were not directly attacked?” Octavian asked.

  “They did not have any ships with sufficient firepower near at hand. They would have moved fast as soon as James Taylor’s presence was sensed, not waiting for backup but relying on surprise.”

  Tristain shook her head. “What the hell do they want him for?” She paused a moment in thought. “There has to be a common link somewhere for all these seemingly random coincidences.”

  “Perhaps if we return to Cartigia… sorry, Earth… we might be able to find some clue?”

  Tristain turned to Octavian. “Would you recognise where you were on the planet? That would be as good a place to start as any.”

  Octavian nodded. “I recorded the location in my tactical computer.”

  “Good, give the information to Cassiopeia and we will go there once we have found out all we can on Mordavia,” Tristain paused. “There are several more hours before we arrive. I expect you are hungry? The galley is this way.” Tristain led Octavian to the ship’s galley. Octavian was surprised how hungry he was. He suddenly realised he had not had a decent meal since leaving Cartigia weeks before. They ate in silence; each lost in their own thoughts.

  Tristain suddenly stood, making Octavian jump. “Right, I shall turn in for a couple of hours. You are welcome to stay here or if you go and see Cassiopeia she will show you to the spare cabin so you can rest. Goodnight.”

  Tristain turned on her heel and strode out of the galley without waiting for Octavian to reply.

  Octavian sighed; even the Cartigians were friendlier than this creature he seemed to have joined forces with! He finished his meal, rose and walked through to the bridge. The avatar was sitting quietly on one side. She turned and smiled at Octavian as he walked through the hatchway. He got the feeling that there was something different about this AI compared to all the ones he had worked with.

  “Ah, Guardian,” she spoke out loud. “It is strange to meet someone from the old order after such a vast period of time has passed.”

  Octavian suddenly realised what the difference was – the avatar seemed to be acting like a real person instead of a machine. He decided not to say anything for the moment in case his feeling was wrong.

  “Please call me Octavian.”

  Cassiopeia inclined her head and smiled.

  “Your Guardian seems a little difficult and I’m afraid we didn’t get off to a good start.”

  To Octavian’s surprise, the machine laughed softly.

  “Yes, she is highly strung like her mother; however, she is an excellent Guardian and excelled during her training.”

  Octavian sat down opposite the avatar. He was oddly intrigued to know more about this fellow Guardian that according to his training and beliefs should not exist. He tried to make sense of his feelings; he
felt repelled and attracted to her at the same time.

  Cassiopeia sensed his confusion and smiled to herself.

  Octavian found himself asking the avatar to tell him what had happened and how it was she had been reactivated after such a long time. He tried to phrase the question such that he did not show any interest in knowing Tristain.

  Cassiopeia gave him a brief outline of how she had been reactivated by Tristain’s father and how the Sicceians had been enslaving the other races in their sector of space, and how the arrival of Tristain’s father had brought their rule to an end and restored peace to that sector of space.

  Octavian was about to ask questions when Cassiopeia held up her hand.

  “We are about to arrive at our destination. I must wake Tristain.”

  “OK, I will take care of the weapon systems just in case.”

  “Excellent, thank you.”

  Cassiopeia fell silent. Shortly after, Tristain appeared through the hatch, in the process of pulling her hair up into a clip as she walked to the main console. She glanced at Octavian as she sat down. Before engaging his mind with the weapon systems, Octavian noticed that by pulling her hair back her ears were obvious. Octavian had a vague feeling she had done it deliberately for his benefit.

  He felt annoyed with himself for being bothered by what she was. After all, he had worked with many different races – why should he be bothered about her? He turned his mind to the computer. Streaks of light against blackness suddenly came into view. He could feel the power of the weapons as if they had become part of him. He brought up the targeting information. It was green against the blackness of space.

  “Two minutes to normal space,” he heard Cassiopeia say.

  Don’t fire on anything until we are sure what the situation is. Tristain’s thoughts were relayed directly to him by the computer.

  Octavian clenched his fist, a terse reply started to form in his mind but he suddenly thought better of it and remained silent.