by Lee Bond
Ute gestured dismissively to Candall’s escort and the man hurried back the way they’d traveled. He turned to Candall, who was looking better. “Space flight suits you, Candall. It’s good to see you cleaned up.”
Candall rubbed his face. He actually missed his crazy-beard. He’d grown accustomed to the way an unkempt beard helped people look the other way without forcing you to give them another reason. “Captain on the ship wouldn’t take me looking the way I did.”
Ute raised an eyebrow stoically but said nothing. Truth was, he’d contacted the captain and insisted on that particular little bit of subterfuge. When a man let himself fall so low that he stopped caring how he looked and smelled … tragic. “I’m glad you saw reason.”
Candall shrugged, eyes roving around the massive white room. “Didn’t have a choice. Of course, I knew at the end of the day that the man was going to take me no matter what I did, but I also knew that he could make the journey easy or hard, even if it was only a day or so at best.”
“What did you think? Of travel by black hole engine?” Ute found it discomfiting. Apparently, most Harmonized God soldiers were in the same boat. There was some … glitch … or something in Harmony that reacted oddly with the momentary surge of speed at the beginning there, a glitch that had your body convinced it was about to fall a very long way. Casual discussion with regular folk proved that it was only God soldiers who suffered.
“Hm?” Where was Hungryfish? That was the sole reason he was here, why he’d agreed to come all this way. “Oh. Interesting enough, I suppose. Had a bit of a stomach ache at the beginning, but that’s probably due to my diet more than anything. I, ah, well. Wasn’t eating all that well, was I? Captain took it upon himself to feed me properly.”
Ute raised an eyebrow once more. Then, because he couldn’t think of anything to say, he squinted thoughtfully for a moment or two, watching Candall spin around in slow circles, eager anticipation to fire the Q-Gun at Hungryfish changing into irritation.
There were no instances of Harmony crossing the threshold from augmented God soldiers to humans. Theoretically, the possibility remained strong; low-level saturation of energies from continual exposure to duronium over four thousand or so years of use made it possible, but …
No. Candall had been abusing some very serious drugs and had been eating an incredibly poor array of foods prior to arranging their meeting. Abruptly cleaning up and switching to normal foods must’ve done wonders for the man’s insides.
Upset stomach it was.
Candall couldn’t take the silence –or the distinct lack of any cybernetically-enhanced assassin spaceships- any longer. “Where is Hungryfish, Ute? I didn’t travel all this way to stand in a big white underground box talking about space travel with you. I have a …”
“Vendetta. Yes. I know. We all know.” Fenris replied darkly.
Candall whirled, hand slapping to his hip, where he used to carry his guns. Fenris. He glared daggers at Ute. “What is this, Ute? Did you sell me out to the Horsemen of the Apocalypse?”
Ute put a bland smile on his face. “I did not. I would never. On my honor.”
Fenris stepped forward, enjoying the sight of a hard man like Candall taking a step backwards. A petty thing, true, but old wounds died hard, and having to hide in the darkness for so many centuries was a bitter thing. The audacity of those ancient Latelians! Trying to create their own Harmony soldiers, only bonded to their ridiculous Regimist tendencies. “I assure you, Sa Candall, my presence here is required.”
Gaze switching back and forth between Ute –who was obviously dismayed but unsurprised at Fenris’ presence- and Fenris himself –who looked as he always did, which was to say arrogant-, Candall walked further away from both men. The blinding white illumination of the room bouncing off the floors seemed to strike him in the eyes. “And why is that?”
“Why,” Fenris gestured, and the truly marvelous weapon that not one of them had even imagined appeared in his hands, “because you expect us to give weapons of mass destruction to you. I am here to … plumb your intent. And also to see this wondrous thing in operation.”
Fenris tossed it to Candall, eliciting a sharp gasp of surprise from Ute.
Candall caught the unique weapon smoothly, with one hand. It was surprisingly heavy. The reclamation specialist turned the deadly AI killer –or so he hoped- over in his hands, musing on the design that the Latelian team had gone with; Trinity Q-Comms were handheld, similar in nature to a Latelian Sheet, only much thicker and, well, far more sophisticated because it allowed you to communicate with someone on the other side of the Universe, so they’d been kind of spoilt for choice in terms of transforming one into a weapon.
There was no trigger on the grip the Q-Comm was attached to, which was sort of off-putting because every time Candall called the invention to mind, the Q-Gun had always taken on the guise of an electronic Stretch gun. He smirked at his own foolishness. The Q-Comm was set onto the grip at an angle, and when he held it in his hands as you were supposed to, the piece of Trinity tech rested on his hand all the way back to his wrist.
Candall nodded. Mounting it that way was the only way that made any sense: you could ‘fire’ this gun from either hand, and most Latelians were either ambidextrous or skilled enough with their off-hand that they’d only have to slow down a little bit to make sure things were done properly. The reclamation specialist spun the weapon around so he could take a look at the barrel.
Again, disappointment was the flavor of the day. Candall swore he could feel Fenris wry amusement, but the Latelian continued on as if nothing was wrong. The barrel, then, was not so much a traditional barrel that shot bullets but more a directional microphone.
Fenris walked up to Candall, enjoying the moment. “Not quite what you were expecting, is it, Sa Candall?”
Candall looked into the eyes of the man who was legend and shrugged. “A weapon comes in many forms.”
That was so funny to the dark-minded Fenris that he burst out in laughter that rang off the far walls. His brothers joined in the hilarity across the Harmony and those few God soldiers near each of his ‘siblings’ started laughing as well. As he chortled at the succinct aptness of Candall’s witticism, Fenris noted that Ute remained unaffected.
“Indeed, Sa Candall, indeed.” Fenris clapped a hearty hand on Candall’s shoulder. “Now. Onto business.”
“Business?” Candall looked from Fenris to Ute, who was completely nonplussed. “What business is there to be had? We … I … fire the gun at Hungryfish, it’s AI shuts down, we rig it with Latelian electronics and I fly away to kill those cyborgs. Recompense for losing both the missiles aboard and the cyborgs themselves in the very Q-Gun I hold in my hands.”
To further drive home his point, Candall held the weapon up into the light and wiggled it back and forth. “A weapon, I might add, that none of you figured out on your own and that will change the face of this war instantly. So what business could we possibly have, Sa Fenris?”
“I liked him better when he was a drug-addled moron burning away his precious integrity and honor.” Fenris said to Ute.
Ever the one to play Devil’s Advocate, Ute showed his palms. “He does make a valid point, Fenris. If this gun works, it will shut Trinity systems down instantly. We all know by now that Trinity troops are extremely tech-dependent. From the time I spent with Garth, I cannot tell you how many times I heard him lament his lack of AI assistance. Without access to those precious systems, the war will turn over night.”
Fenris clamped down tight on the zing of consternation that flooded through him with Ute’s casual mention of his connection to N’Chalez. How could they have missed it?
Their oldest soldier had spent considerable time with the Engineer during one of his most active phases! Trepidation washed through Harmony from Nalanata, Lokken and Stride. Even Solgun betrayed a bit of worry at this … unfortunate realization: with all they were learning –had learned- from Tendreel Salingh’s investigation into the Eng
ineer’s activities, with what was happening to the mushroom prophetess herself…
Should they begin worrying about Ute?
Ute showed no signs of the … weirdness … that Tendreel Salingh had displayed, nor was he shouting fire and brimstone Apocalypse speeches as were the gentlemen on that planet … Tenerek. Everything about the man was so typically stoic IndoRussian Goddie merged with the introspection only a four thousand year old being could possess that were he to display even the slightest sign of change, it’d be like watching supernovas pop and flare.
Thus, the nature of God soldiers and Harmony acted as shields against ‘The N’Chalez Effect’.
That being said, the only other man that’d spent any considerable time with N’Chalez was Herrig DuPont. While the balding fat man seemed normal, he had nevertheless metamorphosed from a man running a bank to a systemic leader of profound popularity, strength and wisdom.
Once Candall was squared away, their Chairman needed looking into.
The horseman –he grinned mentally at the images Tendreel’s choice in words conjured up- redirected his attention to Candall, who was growing twitchier by the second. “The business we have, sa, concerns your actual intentions.” Fenris gestured, and a holographic Screen burst into life. On it, the broken Latelian’s behavior during the various periods of his mission to locate Hungryfish and Ute played out. “During the execution of your search, you can be heard, over and over again, shouting that people are going to pay, the world owes you a favor. All manner of nonsense. Here” Fenris paused the display and focused on one particular … explosion … of poor manners. “Here, you are accosting a low-level Army stores and equipment staffer, and in the middle, right here, you veer off into treasonous territory by shouting that you hoped to your very soul that Chairman DuPont suffered mightily and that his skin was flayed from his body. It goes on for some time, Sa Candall, in increasingly violent ways. I can put the volume on, if you like.”
“What’s this all about?” Ute demanded of Candall. He’d skipped over this particular video during his assessment of Candall’s frame of mind because it seemed so similar to all the other drug-fueled outbursts.
“I …” Candall hung his head. “The man … terrifies me.” He shot daggers at both Harmony soldiers, daring them to laugh or otherwise make mock. It was humiliating. But there was something about Herrig DuPont –had always been something- that set him on edge. Candall admitted this, adding, “I’ve never been afraid of any man in my life. Or, that is, any normal man. Being afraid of a God soldier is the only sensible thing. But DuPont … I don’t know.”
“Do you plan on launching a Hand of Glory missile at the Chairman?” Ute hated to ask the question, but after hearing that rant, it was –sadly- one that needed asking. “Or at anything or anyone that might cause him personal grief?”
Candall sighed heavily. He held a hand over heart. “On the shredded tatters of my broken honor, Sa Ute, I have no other desire in this life than to see those Deep Strike Specters burn like candles. I’ve even gone so far as to determine what will happen when the moon they are on is destroyed and consulted with half a dozen astrophysicists. To a one, they agree that, although destroying a moon is something they would not ordinarily be okay with, the impact of it’s disappearance will be minimal.”
The reclamation specialist shot Fenris a look before the man could open his mouth. “And before you ask, I was incredibly circumspect. I was using top-level masking software on my prote. The people thought I was a young Latelian with an interest in celestial mechanics. Is that good enough for you? Do I pass your little test?”
Fenris shared a silent exchange with Ute. The Latelian was clearly on edge, obviously more than a little suicidal but … he truly didn’t seem as though he had a personal wish to see Herrig dead. That was, no more than any man on the street who didn’t like their current leader; there were old Latelians out there who said worse, and more often, and louder, than had their poor friend Candall.
“By all means.” Fenris pointed behind Candall. “Fire away.”
Candall whirled around, eager to destroy Hungryfish’s onboard systems. What he saw brought a curse to his lips. “What the fuck is this, Fenris?”
“This,” Fenris replied, walking up to and running a hand over the AI sphere resting gently atop a pillar that’d risen out of the ground, “is a pretrial. None of our technicians could crack the access codes to make the thing function, so we do not know if it will work or not. They assure me that the mechanisms they’ve added will channel a directed quantum broadcast emission at a specific target, but there was no way to test fire it.” There was little point in mentioning that those same technicians were already retrofitting one of their own massively large Q-Comm arrays into a Q-Cannon. That would only confuse and irritate the man.
“What?” Fenris demanded sardonically when Candall just stood there, glowering at the shiny ball. “You honestly believed we’d let you at Hungryfish right away?”
Ute walked up to whisper into Candall’s ear. “This man is intentionally trying to rile you, sa. It is his way. It is all their way. If you buckle, if you lash out now, while he is needling you, I guarantee he will not let you anywhere near Hungryfish. The old Harmony soldiers respect only two things. Strength and self-control. If you would have your revenge, show these things and show them now.”
In the back of his mind, Ute felt Fenris’ displeasure at the revelation. The Fivesie gave his most Harmonious leader a flat smile and stepped back. The most ‘ancient’ Harmony soldier had a tendency to forget that he, Ute Tizhen, had been on his own for just over four thousand years, convinced that he would remain that way until the end of time or until he died.
No amount of Harmony could change that.
He’d lived his life watching his brothers and sisters in green suffer monumentally under the mismanagement, fear, paranoia and suspicion, each iteration of the drugs used to corral them growing stronger and more debilitating every few hundred years.
No amount of Harmony could change that, either. He’d watch out for whomever he chose.
Ute clapped Candall on the back to show brotherhood.
Candall appreciated the gesture, recognized that Ute and Fenris were at the beginning of some kind of pissing match that he really didn’t want to get into, so spoke up, directing his command to Fenris, who still loitered by the AI sphere. “You might want to get out of the way, sa.”
“Why is that?” Fenris demanded, baring his teeth. “I am a Harmony soldier. Nothing of this universe can harm me.”
“Yes, well.” Candall said hastily, plugging in the fiendishly long access codes that the Q-Comm required to function properly. He knew Shane’s, and if this were anywhere else in the universe, the man’s death would’ve instantly seen them cancelled out, but luck was luck, even if it was the grimmest sort.
“Haven’t you heard?” Candall asked as the last sequence of digits went into the machine. He was rewarded with all the menus unlocking and a greeting from the operating system. “No one knows what is inside a sphere. Could be anything. When I fire this at that … maybe nothing happens, maybe everything. Markson says he heard of one destroying an entire base, once. Some kind of deadly energy charge. Hardly seems possible, right? From something so tiny?”
Ute could think of at least two people who knew what was inside a sphere. Neither would spill those particular beans, as it were, least of all if Fenris was in the room. The Fivesie watched on with amusement as the Harmony soldier took his time moving away from the AI sphere, making sure the two men knew very well that he moved when he decided, and not at anyone’s command, and certainly not out of fear.
“How, precisely, is a communication device going to be used as a weapon?” Ute asked wonderingly. He’d been trying for hours to figure out how the Q-gun was going to work. The men working on the retrofit –brilliant, to a one- had recently confessed that they’d really just followed the designs hand-drawn out by Candall. They had no clearer understanding of the Q-Gu
n than regular people knew how Sheets really worked.
“Oh.” Candall laughed. “That’s easy.”
“Easy.” Ute said in tandem with Fenris, both with the same flat tone.
“Sure.” Candall showed the men what he was doing, which was as simple as making a prote-call to your old mum. “Q-Comms come with a whole range of addresses built right into the machine. Everything from a line for Trinity Reps to Adjutants, homeworlds, legislative leaders, you name it. If you need to talk to someone who has access to a Q-Comm but you don’t know their number, your AI will tell you what it is. Off you go.”
“And that explains precisely nothing about how a Sheet mounted to a microphone is going to shut down one of Trinity’s most secret technologies, sa.” Fenris growled the words out. “Not all of us are drug-fueled fools seeking revenge against perfectly useful cyborgs. Some of us have things that need doing.”
Candall smiled toothily. He was enjoying being the smartest man in the room. “It’s real simple.” Fenris looked like he was going to start hitting things and people, so the reclamation specialist spoke quickly. “The device your scientists built onto the Q-Comm will channel the quantum signal emitted when a call is placed to another Q-Comm. ‘Firing’ the gun is as simple as dialing an address.”
“And you thought this was going to look like an actual gun?” Ute chuckled, unable to stop himself.
Candall shrugged sheepishly. “Revenge fantasies are just that, sa. Fantasy. Next time we build one, we could make it a real gun. Have bullets inside the gun that are programmed with a specific quantum address and have those rounds ‘LINKed to a Q-Comm in a backpack or something. Firing the gun, releasing the bullet, triggers the call, and the round pulls the quantum signal behind it, like it was tethered. You know, for shits and giggles.”
Fenris turned to Ute. The Fivesie hadn’t missed the sudden –thankfully brief- resonance of their missing Engineer chiming up through Candall; in fact, as Fenris looked, Ute surreptitiously tapped one solitary finger against a shoulder.
