Ashes of Andromeda (The Last Archide Book 3)

by Chad R. Odom

  “Need another minute?” Sicari asked smiling at Oryan’s wonder.

  “I don’t think a minute would do it,” Oryan nearly whispered. He shook his head realizing that he could spend the next few years living in this room. The soldier in him brought him back to reality. This place was something from another world and another time, but they didn’t bring him here for this.

  Oryan asked a simple question. “What now?”

  “Oracle,” Sicari began, “Rijel, please.”

  The room once again went black. A blue-green digital banner began to race around the room. As it did, Oryan could vaguely make out faces and events. The speed prevented him from discerning any real details but before he could ask to slow it down, it was gone and a fourth figure stood in the room.

  It was a man, tall and lean, dressed like Sicari and Corvus. He appeared wise and proud, not unlike Sicari, but his features were far older. The hair on his head was a fine silver color as it was on his face. The image began to slowly walk the room and make eye contact with each person present.

  “Sicari, Corvus. It is agreeable to see you again.” Then the image rested his eyes on Oryan. “Son of Armay! It is truly an honor to meet you.”

  He turned back to the others. “I suppose you have summoned me to teach the boy something of our history.”

  “Yes, old friend,” Sicari replied. “You’re still the best person to teach it.”

  The image nodded and took a deep breath. He looked back at Oryan. A sense of grim reality was on his face.

  “Here he goes!” Corvus said with a jovial jab at the ghost named Rijel.

  Rijel faced him. “Allow me my…”

  “Eccentricities?” Corvus cut him off.

  “Small pleasures,” Rijel finished with a slight smirk. “I am a dead man, after all. I do not get this chance as often as you do.”

  He turned his gaze back to Oryan and the levity disappeared from his features. “I suppose I should introduce myself. I am Rijel, the last Archide who can tell this tragedy from its inception. I have been dead now for some three thousand years as you measure them.

  “As you have no doubt deduced, I am a very interactive program so feel free to ask questions as we go along. There is virtually no query that I cannot give an answer, so long as it relates to the events that transpired in my life.”

  Oryan was silent. He had hundreds of questions but, when put on the spot, he could remember none of them. He was still in a slight state of disbelief.

  “Over twenty thousand years ago as you reckon time, a man named Archide created a city that would become the center of culture, technology, and wisdom in the world. He named it Andromeda. Its significance is apparent knowing the planet adopted the same name as the city.”

  Oryan stood in the center of a galaxy. Stars were everywhere with planets, comets and other heavenly bodies all around him. A single planet became larger until little else could be seen. Oryan recognized it. “This is your planet Viras.”

  The planet shrank and sped away. Oryan was having a difficult time keeping his equilibrium. Another planet came into focus. “This was Andromeda,” Rijel noted.

  Oryan took some hesitant steps forward and around the object. He extended his hand to touch it. Before he could, everything swirled around him again. Oryan reached out for something to hold onto as the entire galaxy spanned out before him. A planet flashed at one end and a second flashed at the other. Above each one were their names. Data on each scrolled beneath.

  “When Archide died, the torch of his leadership was passed on to his remaining counselors who elected a replacement. In tribute to their fallen father, they called the leadership of Andromeda the Archides.”

  Andromeda became large again, eventually enveloping the room. In a heartbeat, Oryan was through the atmosphere and standing on a foreign planet. New smells and sounds were everywhere. A small village became a massive city, which continued to expand and change.

  A digital banner returned on the far wall. As this new history played out in front of him, the banner moved in sync, displaying the actual timeline, ticking off years in time with the events unfolding rapidly around him.

  “Two-thirds of that world’s population lived and died under the rule of Archides and the people thrived. Their technology surpassed anything known today, some twelve thousand years ago.”

  Oryan watched every aspect of life from the vehicles driven and the buildings lived in down to the clothing they wore, and it was beyond his wildest imaginations. They spread across the galaxy, colonizing new worlds, terraforming atmospheres, and expanding their borders. It was every bit science-fiction but, so was the technology showing him a world he could never fathom.

  “Because of their refusal to discontinue uncivilized tendencies, certain groups were not allowed citizenship into the realm of the Archides. Their rejection was often mischaracterized by those who sought to dethrone the Archides. Eventually, the dissenters banded together and rallied their armies and attacked the realm of Andromeda. The war was put down quickly.”

  Oryan ducked as an explosion rocked the room sending heat and dust everywhere. Slightly embarrassed, Oryan looked around at Sicari and Corvus who stood still as statues except the smirk on Sicari’s face. Scenes shifted again and the field was clear save the dead and destroyed vehicles. Oryan could smell the rot and smoke.

  “The defeated people professed loyalty, but continued to hold dark council and plotted the overthrow of the Archides. Like a cancer, silent and deadly, their numbers grew. They called themselves the Agryphim.

  “This was also the time of the birth of Scrolls and Oracles. The Archides knew that if they kept a record of all their doings, the record could come to their defense should accusations arise. This was also the time when I was called upon to be amongst their ranks,” Rijel continued his tale.

  “That was also the time that a certain impetuous boy followed you wherever you went,” said Sicari with a smile.

  Rijel smiled and thoughtfully recalled those days now with affection. “I remember sending you away hundreds of times before I realized you were too persistent to ignore. If memory serves, you were in the Seminary before I took you seriously.”

  “Top of my class and nearly graduated,” Sicari chided.

  The scenery changed again to the exterior of a massive building with scores of stairs leading from its entrance, and young men and women coming and going. “We chose Archides from the Seminary,” Rijel continued where he had left off. “Those who were enrolled there represented the governing body and they carried out the will of the Archides as dictated by the law. There was one who showed vast promise. He was a natural leader and above all, an ambitious man. Our fatal hubris was that we saw him as only ambitious. His name, now infamous in the pages of history, is Damrich.”

  He became the sole figure in the room. He was tall and lean, even handsome. Images of him in counsel with the other leaders and personally him helping in service projects flashed by. His smile was contagious. People were with him everywhere he went and he seemed to have infinite patience with them. Even in the few fleeting moments, Oryan felt naturally drawn to him.

  “Our knowledge of medicine afforded everyone very long life. Our surgeons and physicians had effectively purified the blood that ran in our veins. In effect, they had advanced themselves out of necessity. They were only needed in case of an injury caused by accident or war, which was very seldom.”

  “I suppose that meant that there weren’t many job openings for Archides,” observed Oryan.

  Rijel nodded. “Most students at the Seminary were content to hold their position. Damrich, however, was eager to take the reins. In his mind, having even two Archides was simply too many. Having to consult anyone else meant a delay in decision-making. There was only one solution for him. He needed to take control through our surrender: voluntary or otherwise. He used his influence and his charisma to seduce many influential members of the Seminary to distrust the Archides. It wasn’t long, before his ideals we
re spreading to the citizens.”

  Oryan found himself in a crowd of people cheering as Damrich spoke in a language he didn’t recognize. There were men, women, and children in the mass. Only Sicari, Corvus and Rijel were paying attention to anything other than the orator. Oryan felt the energy of the movement but also recognized the mob mentality he’d known from his days as a Centauri, only magnified.

  Rijel picked up just as the Oracle displayed acts of terrorism in Andromeda. “It was at this same time the Agryphim were once again rearing their heads. They were much more organized than the first time and we began to find their traces even within our own borders.

  “The people began to call for new leadership. Even the evidence provided by the Scrolls was not enough to dissuade them from wanting to see the Archides removed from power. I went to the people in an attempt to discover the reason for their discontent. The evidence no longer mattered to them. No matter what was presented, they were convinced of our corruption and Damrich’s benevolence.”

  Rijel stopped as if trying to remember the details. The images still continued to shift, displaying Damrich rallying people to his cause, the protests occurring at the stairs of the capital cities.

  “Naturally, the Archides heard the same rhetoric before and their suspicions grew that Damrich was indeed an Agryphim that had somehow concealed his intentions even in the Seminary,” said Sicari.

  Rijel came back into the conversation. “We began an inquiry into his past as well as a further probe into his associations. The further we looked into it, the more we discovered falsified records we believed were impossible to forge. The investigation became more convoluted, and was no nearer a conclusion. Since we couldn’t trust our own records, we began to question those whom we could find from his past, but most ended up dead.

  “Damrich revealed our investigation to the public, which was condemning to him and many others, before we could gather sufficient evidence to convict any of them, calling it what you would refer to as a ‘witch hunt’ and leveraging it as proof that the Archides were incapable of ethical governance. Before we realized it was happening, one man’s quest became a crusade.

  The protests at the capitals became riots. People set fire to public buildings, hid bombs, assassinated leaders, and became a ferocious army unto themselves. Oryan watched the once peaceful rule of the Archides became chaos.

  “Only then did Damrich reveal himself for what he was,” grumbled Sicari. “Not just an Agryphim, but the Agryphim. It didn’t matter. By then, the people regarded the Agryphim as saviors and the Archides as enemies.

  “Damrich murdered one of the Archides and so I was called up from the Seminary. It was my charge to bring Damrich to justice. With a little help from a dissenter,” Sicari cast his gaze onto Corvus, “I did just that.”

  Oryan took a hard look at Corvus whose head was bowed and eyes were low. “That’s why you still have the scar, isn’t it?” he asked.

  Corvus nodded. “When Damrich found out what I’d done, he tortured me and left me for dead. Sicari and Rijel managed to find me before it was too late, but some things were beyond even their skill to heal.”

  Sicari placed a hand on his shoulder in comfort. “I think it looks rather dashing.”

  Corvus shot Sicari a defiant look. “I keep offering to give you one.”

  “Oh, no. It wouldn’t fit me. It works on you, though.”

  Rijel smiled at his two friends and began again the tale. “With Corvus’s insight, we were finally able to prove that his deeds were, in fact, an attempt to cover his own criminal activities. Once Damrich was captured, the rebellion swiftly died. We held a very public trial for him and found him guilty of sedition, murder, and many other charges worthy of execution.”

  “You didn’t want to make a martyr of him.” Oryan shook his head. “You let him live.”

  The Archides nodded. “We felt that our mercy would help to convince those who remained on neutral ground that we were not the monsters Damrich portrayed us to be. Many were placated, so we achieved a temporary peace, but it was a mistake we would live to regret.

  “Corvus was then, and is now, a master engineer. This was certainly a quality Damrich admired in him and recruited him for. We now used it to our advantage. He designed the most elaborate prison ever built.”

  Everything shifted again from the trial to a vast interior of a structure. Oryan looked to a ceiling vaulted hundreds of feet above him. It was dimly lit, but elegant and unique. Oryan looked below him. He was standing on a catwalk dozens of feet above a spacious, although stale, living space. There was a bed, a bathroom, and everything needed for one person to live. There was even a kitchen and a massive wall of books, which surprised Oryan. He could see Damrich sitting in his prison, reading over the pages left for him.

  “Even in our day of vast technology, it took nearly two of your years to complete. When it was done, we placed seven hundred men to guard one. The location of the prison was kept secret. We isolated him from all communication, even from speaking to the guards.”

  The books made sense. Any access to technology might give him the ability to reveal his location to his more loyal subjects. He was, if the account was true, as brilliant as he was ruthless.

  “Decades passed and the wounds of that conflict began to heal, but the Archides never regained full strength. Very suddenly, we lost contact with Damrich’s prison. When we traveled to ascertain the cause, we found the prison smoldering and all seven hundred guards hanging from a single tree. Damrich was gone. We still don’t know how.”

  Oryan watched the gruesome scene. He noticed the banner on the wall now moving at a snail’s pace. He watched as the Archides and others removed the bodies from the tree as they sifted through the destroyed prison for evidence.

  “We told no one.” Rijel’s head was bowed. “But it was not long before his rhetoric went from a whisper to a shout. The unrest began again, but this time it was different. It was driven by fear of him and doubts that the Archides could protect them. The Arkons were created. An elite class of soldier who could not only fight, but also infiltrate and gather intelligence undetected. They found evidence of him everywhere but never the man himself.

  “Then a plague began to spread across our lands. Realize if you will, Oryan, the significance of this. A disease of any kind was a distant memory, even to the oldest of us. This plague constantly mutated and killed each of its victims in a different way. Some felt their bones dissolve under their flesh, some were literally rotted from the outside in, and still others had all major organs fail simultaneously and much worse. What physicians we had, scrambled to find a cure, but even their best efforts could do nothing more than ease the pain.

  “In our moment of weakness, Damrich rose again. He was stronger than before, bringing with him millions of soldiers from other territories and planets. Anyone who held a grudge with the Archides rallied to him. The rebels didn’t care who was leading them, so long as they were leading them against us.

  “His campaign was a true display of military genius and most began to believe there was no way the Archides could defeat him this time. Town by town, city by city, our armies and civilians surrendered to him, rather than have the plague unleashed on them. How he stayed immune, we did not know, but it ravaged even his own troops.”

  Oryan was transported from planet to planet to see the destruction of whole populations. Massive battles took place in the vacuum of space with everything from single-pilot crafts to massive battle cruisers. Weaponry of every kind was launched. Some ships were obliterated while others imploded and some were swallowed up in controlled singularities that opened up only for a moment to swallow their victims. Eventually, the only planet remaining to mount a defense was Andromeda.

  “Andromeda was extremely well defended,” Corvus stated as the image shifted to the magnificence of the city. It was vast and grand both in size and defense. He watched as a siege unlike any he had ever seen ravaged Andromeda.

  “The attack las
ted for years. Damrich tried to infect the city, but we had tight quarantines throughout. Inevitably, our numbers dwindled and we knew we could only last so long. What military minds we had left, as well as our best scientists, came together to develop emergency weapons in hopes to turn the tide. Amazing advances were made, but they only succeeded in delaying the end.”

  There was silence as Andromeda crumbled around him. He turned his gaze from the siege to see the face of Rijel. The old man seemed to be struggling finding the correct words. His eyes darted from the floor to the vision of Andromeda.

  “Drastic action had to be taken. The golden age of man, it seemed, was nearly over and it was happening under my watch. I determined that for him to take Andromeda, I would deal a blow that he could never recover from.

  “The man we call the Architect came to me with a horrific solution. He had developed a weapon that worked on a subatomic level. It divided atoms from molecules and returned all objects in its path to their most basic form.”

  Oryan saw the Architect and others mulling over the details of the weapon Rijel was speaking about.

  “Once it was detonated, we had nothing that could contain the effective radius of the weapon. To use it, meant the instantaneous subatomic deconstruction of the entire planet and, potentially others in the system. We couldn’t be sure of its true effective range nor did we have the time to do the proper research to find that out.”

  “There was an ethical problem with it, too,” Corvus chimed in. “Did we have the right to do this? We condemned the genocide Damrich had caused, but now we were considering genocide in a different form.”

  “A question we debate to this day,” added Sicari.

  There was now a heaviness in the air. Oryan had been in awe of the things he had seen and the way in which he had been shown them, but this decision even weighed on him. He was trying to rationalize using this weapon in his own mind to see if he could justify such a drastic decision when he realized it didn’t matter.