Titus

by Caleb Byrnand

  Damn. Simon is finished with justice. Now he wants revenge. “Doesn’t matter. Mother is back online now, we can just track Noah and stop his heart at any time.”

  Dumachus shakes his head again. “No. That not how it works. And you had your opportunity, boy.”

  What?! Simon tries to restrain himself but his rage bursts through his shield of self-control. “He can’t be allowed to live…”

  Dumachus silences the boy by simply stepping forward.

  Whoops.

  After taking a few deep breaths Dumachus continues. “I’m going after them, so I’ll need you to keep a lock on his location though. And tell the triplets on that ice cube to get over here and finish what they started. We’ve got some work to do. Understand?”

  Venark is regaining consciousness and begins to focus his eyes on people in the room. Simon helps him sit up and gain his bearings. Reflecting on where he is now, he begins to grasp the fact his entitled life might be over. “I understand, and will obey.”

  “Good.”

  CHAPTER XII

  Dumachus

  The rogues are relentless. Fighting in the air and not on the ground gives them the height advantage and positions them a lot closer to their target. Their formation is like a magnetic field; falling down in concentration in the centre and retreating upwards on the outer. The second after one attacks the next one follows, and so on, destroying Dumachus’s line of defence. Relentless. The only difference is the Guardians have the technology to heal their wounded on the battlefield whereas the rogues do not. And every time a rogue fell he would be re-orientated immediately. But if they break through the line they’ll be finished.

  The rogues have used whatever is at hand; clubs and bats, chunks of metal, knifes, rocks… and they are getting close to the silo doors. The Guardians only use their minds and their fists, both of which only work up to a point. Body parts and plasma are beginning to collect and pile up on the ground. Even if the rogues win they may not be able to find the entrance through a dune of body parts. This thought makes Dumachus smile. The battle is fun and is also the perfect outlet to stretch his legs and vent some more aggression. It has been a frustrating few days.

  The Guardians on the ground have bunched up and the ones in the air are beginning to lose their formation--he always admired the Roman legionnaires but his soldiers are neither battle disciplined nor Roman.

  Dumachus spots a young female missionary brandishing a well-polished harmonic oscillator but from having no clear shot she is unable to fire. He slowly levitates meters above the ground and holds out his arm. To her surprise the gun wrenches away from her grasp and flies through the air, stopping dead when it lands in his hand. As he flies towards the rogue hoard they successfully break through the Guardian’s final line of defence and start attacking the silo’s retractable closure doors. As soon as Dumachus is within firing range he shoots until the battery is depleted. Rogues temporarily without their powers begin to fall out of the sky and become easy picking for the regrouping Guardians. The rogue’s formation dismantles and the entire rogue army drops to the ground to fight it out old school.

  3, 2, 1…

  A paradigm shift occurs and every clone stops fighting. Mobile scanners and spiked bats are grounded and the entire race of clones is again welcomed in Mother’s warm embrace. Chemical imbalances corrected, injuries healed, a psychic unification as the collective consciousness realigns. Dumachus feels it too. For a brief moment, thoughts of Titus escape him and he becomes one with his recovering brethren.

  With the chaos and cacophony over, the tens of thousands of dead bodies littered the ground will need addressing.

  Dumachus and a dozen Guardians heads towards the silo entrance and he leads the march inside. There was no way of knowing if Titus even entered the facility, but considering that Mother successfully came back online, he assumes he did.

  Time to wrap up the last loose end.

  The Guardians split off at each level checking each room and cavity for possible sabotage as Dumachus makes a bee line for Mother. Inside he sees Simon nestling Venark’s head in his lap. Dumachus takes a moment to sense what happened and paints a picture in his mind.

  “Did you catch them?”

  CHAPTER XII

  Decia

  It has been a long week but the end is in sight. Close enough to touch, to taste; and soon the three women could lower their defences and take some well-earned R&R. But not just yet.

  The room has been vacated of all non-essential personnel leaving only the Moirai to sit and stare at the monitors watching the war unfold. The last stand, the final resistance, just as it is prophesised, with all the players in their place.

  Nina, having been away for so many days, is starting to feel the itch the other two have now grown accustomed to and cannot wait to be rid of these four encroaching walls. “The worst part is this waiting,” she proclaims.

  “Worse than the fighting?” rebuts Decia. Neither of these three women are fighters and the prospect of getting their hands bloody is not a viable option.

  Marta, surprisingly, backs up Nina. “No. A soldier can do something about their fate, we on the side lines can’t. Don’t forget, the prophecy also states that not one part of the earth is unaffected by this final incursion. Which would imply we are to expect something before this is all over.”

  “Well they better hurry because they are running out of time fast.” Nina is right. The countdown till Mother comes back online has only minutes left, but with Marta’s word resonating in their heads the silence and tension in the room grow exponentially.

  Each woman carefully starts reaching for a weapon; two shotguns and one harmonic oscillator. The beading sweat on their foreheads breaking its grip on the skin and rolls down their faces and onto the floor. The three have averted their gaze from the monitors to the entrance, feeding off each other’s anxiety, their guns hesitantly raised towards the locked door. With white knuckles and short quick breaths, guns vibrating slightly, they exchange quicks looks with each other, each validating the other’s fears. Time seems to slow down, the thick musky air becoming heavier as if the room itself is feeding off their apprehension and concern.

  This is unsustainable. One of us will surely faint before the clock reaches zero. Marta cocks her shotgun which makes the other two jump out of their skin. Luckily no triggers are pulled in the upset. Marta shoots a sneaky grin to the other two, trying to relief some of the pressure.

  Just then the door explodes outwards and flies through the air, narrowly missing Nina and Harrison. A one handed iron helmeted rogue stands at the door and yells at the men, “We are the warriors of…” As the final vowel passes his lips all three women, very ready on the trigger, open fire. The harmonic oscillator voids any of the rogue’s telepathic and telekinetic power, the two shotguns void any chance of a long or happy life, tearing his body apart and separating flesh from bone. All three keep firing until the chambers are empty and gunpowder smoke fills the room. Waving their hands in front of their faces and creeping forwards ever so carefully, they approach the doorway and peer through the torn and decimated body of their attacker.

  Nina and Decia staring in shock at their first real kill while Marta runs over to a terminal and hits the intercom, “Intruder alert. We have been…”

  An earthquake-like jolt rocks the station, knocking the three off their feet. Sparks and gas fill the air while alarms bells start ringing. Decia returns to her station, silences the alarms and brings up a damage report. A holographic image of the damaged sectors is displayed and it is clear that they are in danger and that the facility security has been seriously compromised.

  Decia turns to Nina. “I guess the waiting part is over. Feel better?”

  Nina is nodding. “A little actually. Shooting this thing helped blow off some steam if I’m being honest.”

  Marta is running around the room pulling hard drives from their casings and collecting as much classified data as she can. “We have to go, now! Grab
what you can.”

  ❖

  Smoke billows from dozens of vents and ports scattered across the Antarctican plain. The subterranean city succumbs to its second attack almost in as many days. The rogues’ coordinated assault is a success: or at least, the campaign in Antarctica is.

  Hover planes launch the final evacuation of the Church of Light’s complex, the last functioning city in the world falling into chaos as the rats abandon ship.

  Inside the central control room the Moirai are busy collating their research files and classified information not stored on the main servers. Bundles of paper-fed folders and hard drives are wedged under their arms as they scurry about, taking only what they can carry. The siren that has been blaring constantly since the rogues attacked cuts out.

  “Does that mean there’s no reason for alarm?” Nina asks.

  Marta shakes her head. “Or things have gotten so bad not even the alarms work anymore. We should go.”

  Decia has dumped everything under her arms into a box but misjudges the weight when she lifts it and embarrassingly pulls a muscle in her back. The other two missed it and in a minute the nanotech will have corrected it.

  We can’t leave yet.

  Decia turns to Nina and points at the rogue, saying, “Devil’s advocate. Go.”

  Nina is a little surprised but humours her, much to Marta’s disproval. “Okay. A tortured soul is given a new lease on life only to have to serve another greater power. One that tortures them by making them prisoners in the bodies of gods, suppressed and controlled against their will. Forced to mutilate themselves in a bid to have independence, privacy, individuality. He and his kin are fighting the same battle of equality and recognition every oppressed peoples have fought.”

  Marta is finished with their games and wraps it up. “They don’t have genitals. Pretty easy to figure the rest out from there. Let’s be gone already.”

  The diversion has worked and Decia is back to her healthy self. She and Nina grab their things and the trio exit the room.

  There is a definite sense of urgency present. Fire suppression systems are activated as the lights flicker with uncomfortably long pauses. Loud unexplained noises reverberate through the rooms and hallways. The Moirai weren’t as spritely as a younger woman might be, and as a result their lack of pace has people at their heels and pushing around them. As Mother is still out of operation the Antarcticans legitimately fear for their lives, and urgency turns to panic the closer to the launch bays they get. An atypically bulky Antarctican impatiently pushes through the three slow women and knocks Decia’s box out of her hands. Before Decia has a chance to stop and retrieve it the current of crowd is too strong and stopping is an impossibility. Nina and Marta tighten their grips on their takings as they push forward.

  A hover plane has landed and is ready to take passengers but the chaos at the gate makes it impossible for the Guardians to allocate priority seating. The Moirai are staying close, huddled together while a sea of shoulders and heads bustles in a wave, knocking and pushing the three about. When an argument breaks out next to them, this gets the Guardians’ attention. It escalates to a fight and an accidental elbow flies through the air and connects with Decia’s nose, dropping the woman to the ground, blood pouring from her face dripping onto her chest. This definitely gets the Guardians’ attention. One of them steps forward with eyes burning and clenched fists. A slight twitch of his neck, and dozens of people are thrown back as he divides the crowd. Invisible walls push the desperate people away, and form a path leading towards Nina, Marta and Decia, who is still on the ground, bleeding. One of the Moirai. The people gasp when they see what has happened and what they have become. But the enormity of the situation is overshadowed when Decia stops bleeding and her nose transforms back to her original state.

  Mother is back.

  The crowd can see it, feel it, they have won. Panic and fear are stripped away and the blindness of the unrestrained mob is lifted. And the reminder that the Guardians are not to be fucked with. Decia stands up and people in the crowd begin a slow clap that builds to a massive applause. The fight is over. The three women board the plane first and the Guardians manage the now jovial crowd from here on in.

  ❖

  The hover plane is cramped and stuffy. The passengers have calmed down but an air of loss is very present. Their home is gone and they are forced to relocate to a foreign land. While some of this is to be expected, the real shock is not having it on the terms they expected. Antarcticans have never been tested with real world trials or suffering in the modern age, and a week without the safety net of Mother would prove testing. It is more of a shock for Decia to see how they deal with it, and a grave annoyance that it cost her hard copies of irreplaceable research. And a broken nose, albeit a temporary one.

  Nina leans over to offer some consolation, “This is why we have triplicates.” She tightens hers lips and nods her head before sitting back with ‘a job well done’ look.

  Not helping.

  “Give me your portal, we need to check in.” Nina pulls out her mobile computer and hands it to Decia. Waving her hand across the screen, the portal lights up with Decia’s custom layout and settings. A few touchscreen taps later and a call is made.

  Over one minute and still no reply.

  Eventually the screen lights up and a sweaty looking Simon answers the call. “This is Facility one.”

  “Simon, it’s Decia. Where’s Elder Venark?” It’s not that Decia doesn’t like the kid, just that this is the grownups’ table and she thinks the boy spends an inordinate amount of time within the inner circle.

  “The traitor, Titus, he was here. The elder is still recovering from their encounter. He’ll be fine now that Mother is fully functional.”

  “Where’s Dumachus?”

  “He left to hunt down Titus.”

  “What about…”

  “Before Mother came back online the Rogues killed everyone inside the facility. There’s no one left here. I don’t know what happened on the surface but I don’t think we’re in any more danger…” He sounded stressed and out of his depth.

  “It’s alright, We’re on our way son. Stay with the elder till we get there.”

  Simon waits for a second before nodding. “Okay.” The screen goes blank when the communication is cut and Decia hands Nina back her portal.

  Nina, who has been eavesdropping asks, “The war is over. Is this not cause for celebration?”

  Marta thinks not. “Our home and sacred land have been invaded and destroyed, we’ve lost a majority of the Church’s elders and contributors, we suffered heavy casualties from this war and failed to reach the minimum target for civilian registrations. Very soon power grids and communication networks will come back online and the advantage we had in this global occupation will be lost. The very success of this endeavour is under serious threat. If that’s not bad enough, having the most powerful and dangerous lifeform on the planet MIA and armed with the highest of classified information means he too possesses the means to bring us down.”

  The three sit on that sobering statement for a moment before Decia breaks the silence.

  “So… champagne then?”

  CHAPTER XIII

  Titus

  Before the final resistance was waged, seven rogues had stolen a hover plane and landed on the strip a few hundred meters from the silo with all the other hundreds of planes. Through the cargo bay they tunnelled their way into the silo basement, undetected. This created the perfect escape for Titus; straight to a getaway vehicle with a pilot.

  “I can’t fly.” Sitting in the pilot’s seat, Noah looks as confused as he did a week ago when he tried to fly. Luckily, that doesn’t matter this time.

  “Scan your hand.” Titus points to the scanner on the centre console. Noah reluctantly and unenthusiastically waves his hand over the small black panel and the ship comes to life.

  Noah isn’t looking very happy at the moment. “I don’t like where this is going.”


  “Just do what I say.” Titus begins to draw from the memories and experiences of the two pilots’ minds he read, the hours spent in simulators, the operations flown and orders obeyed.

  Noah protests, “Wait, can’t you just fly it now I turned it on?”

  “It won’t respond to me. All you have to do is push those four buttons.” Noah involuntarily pushes four buttons in the correct sequence. Titus continues, “Turn that dial, that button…”

  “I’m not sure how comfortable I am with you controlling me like this.”

  “Would you rather be unconscious?”

  Noah stops to think about it for a moment before reaching a conclusion. d

  “No, this is fine. Just hurry up. And please, stop the commentary.”

  ❖

  After a rough take off they are now securely in the air. No one is on their tail; which is of some relief even though they both know they are surely being tracked.

  With the autopilot engaged, now they can both sit back and catch their breath. The technology allows them to fly above the ash cloud where the air is too thin for conventional planes, and for the first time in over a week they can see the stars. In silence.

  Dumachus’s words are gnawing on his mind.

  I have left nothing but death and destruction in my path. I’ve saved Noah. But I haven’t really.

  “What?” Noah looks at Titus for a response but he has none to give. “Not all forms of communication are vocal, and whatever crisis of conscience you’re having is deafening me, and I’m not even a telepath. So, I repeat. What?”

  “During the time that Mother was down two million Guardians turned on the Church and began killing everyone, survivors and followers alike. Turns out they needed Mother to keep them loyal. Last night the rogue Guardians mounted a massive assault on the facility targeting the silo. If they succeeded in destroying the facility a lot more would’ve joined the cause, and if Dumachus were to die they would all turn, eventually reducing the surface of Earth to that of literal hell.”