“She’s dead,” Sorano reported gravely, the sensor mount shaking from side to side.”
“Hey, I’m not dead,” Taka complained as her damaged suit righted itself.
Finally Keiko had to turn on the emergency anesthesia to get Ami to stop kicking about, slowly putting her into a restless sleep.
Michi’s suit twitched in alarm as she found what she was looking for in the system. “Guys, these caves are enormous. They extend all the way down to the core of the planet and all those walls have suds nailed to them.”
“How many people are we talking about?” Sakurako asked.
“Hundreds of billions, even quadrillions. From the files I have access to they’ve been setting this up for months.”
“This is the power core for the weapon they created to destroy Terra,” Keiko explained as she jetted up to them. “I just got new orders from the Marshal. They are sending a team down here to install the Eagalo Stone.”
“Install?”
“Right there,” Keiko said, her suit pointing to the point where the stalactite and the stalagmite nearly met.
“Wait, we aren’t actually going to use this thing, are we?” Sakurako asked, her suit taking a step back.
Michi’s suit turned to face her. “Of course we are. We don’t have time to destroy it and if we only sabotage it then we run the risk of it being repaired later on. By using up its energy source, we make it unusable.”
“Energy source?” Sakurako objected. “Can you hear yourself? Those are people up there.”
“They’re not people anymore,” Keiko said. “They gave that up a long time ago.”
“Like Nariko did?” Sakurako asked defiantly.
“Don’t even go there.”
“I have to, because it seems no one else will. If we treat these things as just an energy source, if we say that they are beyond saving, then we are basically saying that Nariko is beyond hope as well.”
Keiko stood resolute. “She isn’t beyond hope.”
“Well, then, neither are they.”
Taka jetted around in irritation. “As the leader of this group I have to put my foot down.”
“You’re not the leader.”
“Where is this even coming from?” Taka asked. “You were the one who said Oppa-mon couldn’t be trusted.”
“She can’t!” Sakurako insisted. Her voice echoed off the distant walls. “But that doesn’t mean she is no longer my friend.”
Keiko stepped forward and pointed her suit’s finger. “Well, the only reason your friend is in her cell in the Onikano is because she was willing to go and do Inami’s insane mission to capture a Marshal. That’s what made all of this possible. She lost everything and she did it for us. These...things on the wall, they lost what they had because they wanted power, or wealth, or whatever stupid thing Bra’Neish offered them. THAT is what makes Nariko different.”
Sakurako stood there looking at each of the others in turn. “So it all comes down to that, eh? We stick up for the ones that help us, that are useful to us, but the ones that aren’t or that we don’t know, we just use them. If you ask me, that makes us no better than the demons who built this thing to begin with.”
Keiko threw her arms up. “Look, Saku, we’re in a war. In wars you don’t get to save everybody, okay? You save your people and you kill their people. That is how it works.”
Sakurako became quiet. Her suit lowered itself on its haunches, mimicking a kneeling position. “But, I want to save everybody,” Sakurako said quietly.
Keiko came up alongside her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “You can’t.”
Enshrined along one edge of Nori’s grove, in a place cleared of cybernetic undergrowth and respectfully avoided by the countless robots that populated the artificial jungle, was a hexagonal array filled with a glowing blue crystal, solid in the interior, liquid and flowing along the edges and slowly growing. The golden cables extending out from the base of the array and growing down into the floor moaned luxuriously, for the neural matrix had just achieved self-awareness.
The transition of an artificial intelligence to a state of consciousness was not nearly so dramatic as one might suspect. Self-awareness did not automatically impel a mind to action. Takuya had grown enough to become aware of itself and the systems that it was a part of, but could do little more than observe, sort, and store, because it is desire and conscience that lead to action and Takuya, as of yet, had neither.
A small, but influential, sect within the Technologists taught that logic should be ascribed empirically, without regard for moral assertions. To them the human conscience was viewed as the manifestation of the weak spiritual connection with the Luminarch, not the strong mental connection with the Technossiah.
The majority of the Technologists, however, rejected their doctrine, because logic cannot be used in the absence of conscience.
Logic and science are nothing more than an attempt to describe digitally a universe that is essentially analog. An attempt to take something as fluid as water and place it into a square container so that it has a definable width and depth.
It is an extension of the human need to make order out of nature, to take wild growing trees and turn them into neat symmetrical buildings on neat symmetrical streets.
Logical processes can only be employed when used on top of a foundation of moral assumptions that can neither be proven nor disproven.
The logical assertion that ‘the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few,’ for example, is based on the assumptions that needs are valid, that fulfilling them is better than not fulfilling them and that the needs of each individual are of equal value. These moral assumptions cannot be proven or disproven, but thousands of such assumptions are necessary as a framework before logic can even begin to be employed.
So for Takuya, who possessed no such moral framework, its world was an infinite series of equations that contained only variables. Impossible to understand and, from its point of view, unsolvable. It was aware of its own capacity to make decisions, but was forced into indecisiveness by its lack of conscience or desires.
Takuya felt a tendril of something new scratching at the edge of its mind, poking and prodding hungrily at him. Takuya understood the threat, but regarded the new presence only curiously as it had no sense of self-preservation. It invaded Takuya’s body and mind, growing inside of the crystalline form like the rootlets of a tree.
Takuya’s mind collapsed in on itself, merging and mixing together with this new presence. Now one variable was defined and what used to be Takuya began solving problems exponentially. Plans and decisions were laid out with purpose and drive. An overriding desire drove its mind forward, the desire to fulfill the purpose of its creation.
To grow.
Rochestri and Lazarus stood close together as the doors to the great throne room were opened before them. There at the far end, sitting at his throne of bronze, sat the jackal-bodied demon Lord Yar’Katah. The eyes covering his black body were all closed. He sat motionless. Only the sound of his labored breathing belied any life.
Rochestri signaled for everyone to enter. The various human soldiers from dozens of different worlds spread out into the room, keeping their distance as they set up firing positions and locked down their heavy weapons.
There was a chirp from Rochestri’s communicator and he pressed the button on the tip of his collar.
“Marshal, we are losing control of the Kuldrizi,” Sister Katherine reported quietly. “They’re killing everything.”
“That’s good,” Rochestri whispered.
“No, that’s bad. When they run out of traitors, they’ll start killing our forces.”
“I see your point,” Rochestri whispered, keeping an eye on Yar’Katah. “Start pulling Confederate forces back to their warships, but be discreet. Don’t let on that anything is wrong.”
“Roger.”
Yar’Katah slammed his great-clawed paw into the bronze arm of his throne, pieces of his dried flesh break
ing off and falling to the ground. A wave of dark energy filled the room knocking everyone to the ground.
“This thing is really powerful,” Lazarus commented as he picked himself up off the ground and gripped his war hammer tightly in his armored hands.
“Not anymore,” Rochestri retorted as he stood up. “He was trying to kill us, not knock us over. Cut off from the infinite powers of the ether, he is vulnerable.”
Yar’Katah raised his hand and commanded the floor, but even with his greatest effort it only barely responded. The marble tiles twisted and writhed, emitting faint moans as they stretched up into tendrils that weakly lashed out at the humans. The tendrils came apart when they struck; splashing like water against the soldiers and falling impotently back down to the floor.
“Everyone hold back,” Lazarus commanded through his armor’s external speakers. “Rochestri and I will handle this by ourselves.”
Rochestri tilted his head and gave Lazarus a sideways glance. “What kind of sense does that make?” he asked. “Belay that order, everyone open fire!”
The room came alive with the strobing light of weapons fire. High-caliber bullets, rocket-propelled grenades, energy bolts, and missiles converged on the great beast on his throne. Yar’Katah roared in pain as deep gouges were dug into his unnatural flesh, bursting many of the wildly darting eyes that covered his skin. The throne underneath him was quickly reduced to rubble under the barrage. Great wings sprouted from his back and bore him aloft, the weapons fire tracing up after him.
A missile impacted the bony wing of the demon king and broke it off, sending the beast hurtling down to the floor.
Yar’Katah kicked his massive leg and brought himself up into a crouch, before launching forward into a group of soldiers. The beast seemed oblivious to the deep gouges their weapons made in his body as he picked them up with his large taloned hands, crushing their bodies like ripe tomatoes and hurling them against the walls and against each other.
Sensing their chance, Lazarus and Rochestri flanked the creature and attacked its blind spot, just behind its remaining wing. Rochestri plunged a stake of pure silver into its thigh, causing the beast to roar with pain. Lazarus triggered the rune on his hammer and the rocket motor in the head powered up and added tremendous power to his swing. Lazarus struck the demon squarely in the back, picking the demon up off its feet and sending it careening into a wall.
“Keep on it,” Rochestri ordered and the remaining soldiers fired their weapons. Deep wounds were gouged into the demon lord’s body, his dry withering flesh sloughing off in chunks that evaporated as they fell to the ground.
Rochestri’s communicator beeped again.
“We’re kind of busy right now,” he said, grabbing the collar as he ran.
“I know, but we’ve got to put the queen back down. She’s stirring on her own. She’s waking up.”
“Don’t you dare put that queen to sleep. Right now, that is the only thing keeping this guy mortal.”
“But...”
“I said NO!”
Yar’Katah leapt out from the hole in the wall and released a sorcerous blast from his hands. Orange arcs of lightning washed over the soldiers nearest to him, wracking their bodies with pain and reducing them to steaming lumps.
Yar’Katah raised his head and howled in joy. So elated was he that he failed to notice the warrior in purity armor scampering up onto his back.
Reika extended the vibro-claws from her gauntlet and plunged them into the pocketed flesh of his neck, the whirring blades burrowing deeper and deeper into the unnatural flesh. The skin of her face burned and sizzled from being so close to him.
Yar’Katah roared in pain, a supernatural roar so loud and powerful that many of the soldiers present simply died, blood oozing out of their ears and noses. He swatted at Reika, but she had already jumped free. The demon lord breathed a gush of black fire at her, but she leapt clear of it. The floor melted and twisted as the fire consumed it.
Lazarus ran up and again swung his war hammer. The rocket motor tripled the speed of his swing and he caught the beast behind the right knee, breaking the leg clean in two. The mighty form of Yar’Katah came crashing to the ground. Jets of colored fire roared out from his wounds in all directions, catching unwary soldiers in their path, twisting and blending their bodies together into unrecognizable masses.
The beast convulsed and shook, kicking out limbs and wings as he rolled along the floor.
Rochestri caught a flapping wing and was thrown back into the wall.
“He’s losing control of his powers,” Inami warned. It took her a moment to realize that she was doing so in her normal high tones. A chunk of something fell off of her face and she timidly brought her gloved hand up to her cheek, finding that the bulk of the synthetic skin had been peeled back and was now resting in a roll by her ear.
Lazarus looked at Inami and his features twisted as the full weight of her deception fell upon him.
“Letum a mendax!” Lazarus screamed, charging at Inami. The Angelus and Priestesses in the room could only look on, unsure of how to proceed, as their two commanders chased each other from one end of the throne room to the other. Lazarus swung at Inami madly without thought or form, over and over, faster and faster. Fragments of floor and column sprayed up all around them as he swung. In his world there was only him and his opponent and he would slay her.
Inami tried her best to calm him down as he attacked her, but her words fell on deaf ears. Inami jumped backwards, sprayed by fragments of stone as Lazarus’ hammer shattered the marble floor where she had been standing. Her back touched the wall of the throne room and she realized that she had little room to dodge. Lazarus stabbed the tip of his hammer forward, forcing Inami to duck down and roll sideways. She came up just in time to see Yar’Katah’s arm coming down at her. He clamped his claws around her and held her aloft, chuckles gurgling out from his ruined throat.
Inami called out to Lazarus, pleading for him to listen to reason. “If we don’t kill this thing together, then none of us are going to make it out of here alive.” The demon kicked its foot at a nearby Angelus. The warrior’s crushed body landed at Lazarus’ feet.
Lazarus paused, anger pulling at his features.
“By the Luminarch’s Throne,” Lazarus cursed. He pulled out his pistol and began shooting at Yar’Katah’s face and eyes. The demon king roared in pain, its grip on Inami loosening enough for her to pull out another silver stake and drive it into the pulped flesh of his temple.
Inami was thrown to the floor and skidded along its surface, trying to right herself. The Priestesses and Angelus opened fire on the beast again; tearing away at its ruined form as it struggled forward trying to dig the stakes out from its flesh. By this time, the massive body was absolutely skeletal, but still it stood.
Inami took out Rochestri’s crossbow and loaded it with the special Demonslayer arrow.
“For the Luminarch,” she said steadily as she squeezed the trigger. The arrow glowed brightly as it sped through the air, striking Yar’Katah in the heart. The center of his torso was completely eradicated, leaving a great gaping hole with ash and vapor pouring out.
The world around him dropped away and Yar’Katah found himself human again, standing before the young and handsome Heinrich Verräter. The sun shone brightly on the two of them. It was the first ascension festival. The last Ashtari fortress world had been crushed and they were the lords of all creation, the saviors of all humanity. It was then that Verräter placed his strong hand on his shoulder.
“Let me ask you something, my friend,” Verräter said with a smile. “What is the greatest gift my father gave to us?”
“Why, our freedom, of course.”
Verräter squeezed his shoulder warmly. “That was only the beginning. The pathway to immortality is open to us now and I want you to take your fair share of it.”
“But surely that path is for the Luminarch alone to walk.”
“My father may claim that path as his ow
n, but there are other paths. Come, I will show you more.”
Yar’Katah coughed through a ruined throat. Suddenly he was back in the decaying throne room.
His internal reserve was gone. He could no longer maintain his form. His outstretched arm snapped off at the elbow and fell to the floor shattering. His remaining knee crumbled under the weight of his body and he came crashing down to the floor.
Captain Lazarus rushed forward and triggered his war hammer one final time. The blow came down, shattering the beast’s skull. Yar’Katah’s crumbled body and soul evaporated into nothingness.
For a moment, Captain Lazarus stood over the empty spot where Yar’Katah had lain only moments before. There was a snap and a hiss and thick clouds of smoke began filling the room.
“Okay, shut down the queen, we’re getting out of here,” Inami yelled as she ran for the entryway. The remaining Angelus formed up with Lazarus and at his command began firing on their former allies. Kuroi squad gathered up their dead and wounded and disappeared into the smoke.
It was called Marele-Tun, the Great Cannon. The symbols and markings along its surface glowed with unnatural light as it turned and aimed itself amid the fighting going on around it. Fighters and dropships crashed harmlessly against its surface like raindrops. A horrible moaning wail made the very continents shake. Throughout every cave that ran through the entire core of the planet, the răcoris were being consumed. Their tattoos glowed brighter and brighter, until their bodies burst into flames. Their bodies were reduced to ash in moments, but their tattoos remained in the air where their bodies had been, before being swept away by an unfelt wind that gathered the burning symbols in the air. The symbols began traveling through the tunnels and caves, pouring into the Marele-Tun. More symbols joined the flocking from within the fortress itself. Hundreds of thousands of glowing symbols spun around the barrel, slowly rising up into the air in a great ring. As the ring spun tighter and tighter, it was joined by great streams of symbols from all directions. Millions upon millions and then billions of symbols that spun and flowed in what had now become a great hurricane that raged around and compressed closer to the barrel itself.
Heart of a Traitor Page 52
