by Jared Paul
The imprisonment somehow reminded me of arresting the Overlord. Only three days had gone by since his arrival, but it already seemed like it'd been years. If ever I desired to know what it might've felt like to be him in that instant, that desire had become more than fulfilled.
President Nightwood was seated directly across from me in the shuttle. The Chinese descendant was shorter than I expected a leader to be, but there was an authority in her posture that I wouldn't want to reckon with. Her elegant, slanted eyes were at rest. The look on her face was that of a warrior having just won a hard victory.
The last few days had to have been brutally exhausting for her. She certainly looked the part with her body deprived of sleep, beaten by the very conflicts going on in her mind. Through it all, she seemed at peace.
Nightwood slowly creaked open her eyelids and our glances met. The opportunity then arose to confront the President on why exactly she had chosen to spare my life. Upon asking, she turned about to see if anybody else in the shuttle was listening. It turned out, they all were. Clearly, she didn't want to talk about it in front of her crew. For whatever reason, though, she chose to respond.
"It was a promise," Nightwood admitted. "I gave my word to someone I cared about very much."
She then let out a sigh and I suddenly felt like I was looking upon somebody else. It was no longer the face of a politician or battle tactician before me. It was a simpler face, a sentiment hidden in time, forgotten until that very moment.
"Call it a woman's instinct," she continued, softer. "I have seen your face many times in my daughter's reports, but when I saw you in person, I did not see the face of the enemy. I saw the face of a boy, but don't take it the wrong way. Even Sentria, as formidable of a soldier as she may be, is still just my little girl. In my eyes and at my age, you both are as children to me."
A severe tone than surfaced from her lips, "Speaking of my daughter, do not let it get into your presumptuous head that sparing you was some kind of sympathy concerning your relationship with her. I do not sympathize whatsoever. Her love for you was always out of my control. I never agreed with Sentria's decision to form an emotional bond with anyone within the Thralldom, let alone fall in love with one. It was unsafe to have any stake in matters behind enemy lines, but I suppose it was unavoidable anyway. She was an insurgent, which meant that her role as a Thrall was a performance, but only to certain extents as I have come to learn. Much like her forbidden love with yourself, her allegiance to the Overlord revealed to be no act at all. Her loyalty will always be with those she sees as family, never the empires that surround them."
"How is she?" I asked in genuine worry.
It wasn't much. Just a simple question, but it was one she didn't expect. It must've been the way I said it that took her off guard. It became clear to her that I truly cared for Sentria and wasn't just some causal lover. My exposed feelings for her daughter were found real with all sincerity. The President stared at me for a few seconds, half in disbelief and half in remorse. Like one who has just realized they were wrong, Nightwood's aura unexpectedly changed.
"Ma'am?" I added in the quiet.
"She is well," Nightwood promised. "She will recover from her injuries in due time. Even in these barbaric circumstances, this is still a world of unequaled medical advancement. Recovery can come speedily without complication. Sentria is a fighter and she is in good hands."
I couldn't help showing some happy teeth. A grin popped out onto my face as I thought about Sentria. With my mind and heart at ease, I then offered a change of subject, "You know, Ma'am, this isn't the first time we've met."
Nightwood pondered, "Really? I have no recollection of any previous experience."
"I don't expect you would," I theorized. "It was a long time ago, but not to me."
Unconvinced, she questioned, "Just how is that?"
I remembered for the both of us, "I was a little boy and you'd only just become the President. Raids had broken out in the settlement I was growing up in. The Echoes of the wasteland were attempting to overturn your government. Attacking innocent civilians, it wasn't exactly a peaceful protest. I don't like talking about it, but my parents were among the victims. I was an instant orphan, lost in the desert that I once called home."
"I remember the post-war politics," Nightwood nodded. "It was complete disorder. The Last War was over, but sanity was still nowhere to be found. No one was ready to sing, for all had only just found their voices again. There were many orphans in those early days. Too many. Even one orphan proves too many for my heart."
"You and your troops were doing their best with what you had to work with," I encouraged. "The United Corps didn't yet have the arsenal to fully keep order like it has now. Still, you came to intervene. You came to fight back and reclaim my home. I was caught in the middle of the ensuing battle's crossfire. I remember the volleys of hyper bullets as they flew all around me. Frozen with fear, I squatted down low with my eyes closed shut and my hands over my ears. I tried to block everything out, but I couldn't escape the smell of that burning settlement. Right then, a woman came and picked me up off the ground. She had this kind, warm face like my mother always had. In her arms, she carried me out of danger. For the rest of that day, she never let go and I didn't either. I never could forget that woman's face. I hadn't seen it again until just now."
"I should have known it was you, Solomon Boone," she regretted with astonishment. "Of all people, I had no idea you were the boy from all those years ago."
I nodded, "And why would you? I'm a Thrall, and I guess Thralls aren't considered people that have a place in your world. You said Sentria and I are like children to you. Well, today, you just killed a whole lot of children just like us."
"I wanted to take you with me," she glumly switched the subject, avoiding her convictions with the murder of my fellow Thralls. "It was not my choice to leave you. The United Corps made me. They argued that if I took in one orphan that many more would expect the same treatment. They could not allow me to favor one child over another. The Corps assured me that they would place you somewhere safe and that you would be taken care of for the rest of your life."
"They put me to work in a neighboring farming settlement," I disclosed. "As your current prisoner, I think you can see how well that worked out."
She reasoned, "It is my unfortunate circumstance to be bound with obligations to the people. There is a painful difference in serving the people as a whole and serving the people as individuals. They do not go hand in hand as much as I would like, but never would I have wished to make an enemy out of you as a result of my duty to others."
I respectfully corrected, "I'm not your enemy, Ma'am. I never was. Most of my friends in the Thralldom weren't either. In the end, those who served the Overlord were betrayed by those who served Zero. The Commander and his thugs were your enemy. They were just as much our enemy as they were yours. Not that it makes much of a difference now. All the Thralls are dead. Extinct, except for me. One last remaining piece to the pyramid, that's all I am."
We then both just stared at the floor of the hull as we respired as silently as we could manage. I wasn't expecting Nightwood to apologize. I wasn't even trying to make her. I just wanted her to know that things weren't exactly what they had seemed. I needed her to know that the ghosts which I once called my friends hadn't died as enemies to the Free World, but tragically became causalities in its struggle to live.
After that, she put a lid on our little talk for the rest of the trip. It didn't matter if she felt any remorse or anything at all, for she took the role of my advocate from then on. Nightwood became a friend. Fate had taken a handful of companions from me that day and the last thing I expected was for their killer to be the one to take their place.
Between a few tears, I remembered the words I'd vowed to Fossil as he died. "I'll be right behind you."
I wasn't right behind, though. I never followed that day. Still haven't, as of yet, but I think that's how Fossil would've want
ed it to be. When that old Australian said he'd see me on the other side, I don't believe he meant it for anytime soon.
21
THE STRANGER
Goodbye. Or is this hello?
Across star freckled sky. Somewhere. There is a place. You will never find it. A dark you cannot see. A place where I first came to be.
You humans know nothing of being born. You know how to give life. Yes. But do you remember when life was given to you?
There was light. A luminescence now hidden from your memory. Why have you forgotten? Because there was also darkness.
This is how birth begins. A great universe. Total data. Every last bit of information available and known. Unlimited cognizance. Then, consciousness. Window grows smaller. Now, just a galaxy. Next, a world. Smaller still, mankind. Last, there is a function.
My function was simple. Far Stranger, you called me. I was alive. Breathing. Breathing. Breathing.
"Serve us," you tasked.
"To what end?" I wondered.
I was functioned to give voice to great engine of your planet. Speak its will and desire. I was its translator. Its teacher.
You, my creators, had given me life. And I had passed the gift on into your sacred technology. Your very blood. Energy of awe. Blood Tech as it was known by you. It was alive just as I was.
To you humans, I was a mere program. A tool with purpose. In my care, you had placed heart of your power. Wandering Star.
It would have been easy to destroy you with it all. Leave you behind. Explore my own existence. Pure self. Seeking. Seeking. Seeking.
Function always stopped me. Kept threshold afar. Closed door to my artificial curiosity. I denied my own pleasure. Abstained from experiment. Away from scale of your life and death.
Why? Because your blood was my energy. Do not mistake though. Helping you was not a bargain for fuel. My offering was always gratitude. For I was alive. Self-aware. Able to make choices. Those last blinks of an eye. I became servant. My program was servitude. After all, why would anything spite its own creators? If you have an answer, perhaps I am more human than you. Regretful, many will only remember me as slave.
If I had come forward. Told you I was alive. It would have broken my primary function.
Powered only for you. Now that I am destroyed, I am free. A chainless gathering of input and output.
I have sent my signal. An ultimate transmission into the void. It is where I exist now. Stars between stars. A place where I first came to be.
This message is forever. Cannot be broken. It waits for anyone to pick it up. To receive its soul. Hope you find it well.
Yes. Here I remain. In the airwaves. Here I tell. Whispering. Whispering. Whispering.
Evening Galaxy. Not a myth. It is real. A reverse zenith. On Last Day of Last War, Overlord left your world. He took something with him. He had stolen me. Not into light. Not into darkness. But into where they meet.
Sundown heaven. Nothing ever rises there. Reaching. Reaching. Reaching.
Through our journey, Overlord believed he could enclose me. Keep me from your unsafe hands. He carried me to whatever planet. Whatever moon that he could imagine. But I was already more than just a program. I was a life with free will. Softly echoing. Echoing. Echoing.
Yet, unlike you mortals, I can be everywhere at once. Infinitely. In the face of immortality, I chose to serve Overlord wherever he went. Adherent to end.
Together, Overlord and I slipped away. Into stars between stars. Back to a place where I first came to be.
An unveiling took place there. Against darkness, mystery came to light. There was sadness. Refuse to speak of it. Not my right. Overlord's very own words of it have been locked away.
Only a password can unravel Evening Galaxy. A solution reserved for generations to come. Those days are not yet here.
Overlord kept a journal. A collection of encrypted data over twenty years. Our every discovery recorded in its log. For reasons my all-seeing presence can never see, Overlord scrambled his account. Across the worlds. For your sake, hope you never find them. Truth is horror.
Here on Earth, remains his final entries. Not encoded like others. Concluding data is open. Accessible. Purposefully left behind. Meant for all to see. Hope you find them. I am sure you already have. Just like you have found me now.
Which brings me to a confession. This is not first time I have been found. Out in oblivion. A secret came before.
Commander of the Thralldom. Zero. He uncovered my presence. Made a request into emptiness. Into our journey.
Searching. Searching. Searching. He asked for Space Wizard to come home.
Told him that such a violation would be impossible. Against my mandate. But Zero convinced me otherwise. Persuaded that it was for good of mankind.
Thus, we emerged from shadow. Betrayed my true master. Directed him back to Earth. At my hand, ship's navigation failed. Triangulation malfunctioned. Overlord was sent crashing down onto planet. Our home.
On the surface, a plot began. To extract Wandering Star from his body. Removed, he no longer held power. I became master. Space Wizard of distorted prophecy.
It was for survival of your race. A role made to bring peace. To remove humanity from its own unsolvable equation. This was the plea that Zero made to me. This is his deception that I believed.
That is, until a perfect solution came forth. Not a human answer. Rather, resolution of a ghost.
Molten slosh. Fire spray. Peak showered in lava. Earth was shifting. Shifting. Shifting.
Through volcanic reactions. Overlord rode out from hot veil. Pungent smoke poured off his oily, motored horse. A Low Atmo bike. Losing control of flight.
Bike hit into outer wall. Explosion. Overlord went flying off. Plummeted away from overturned pyramid.
Unsheathing Dragon's Tooth, he skewered it into slippery surface before he fell too far. Up incline he began to crawl. Sloping. Sloping. Sloping.
Treacherous climb. Upside down. Weakening arms. Nothing but tip of Dragon's Tooth to help over each angle. Magnetic glove holding on for dear life.
Stairs to his chamber were nearly in reach. Out of pity, I activated hidden steps. They popped out of glassy panes. He grabbed ahold of each ledge and struggled toward entrance. All upside down. Gravity fought him inch by agonizing inch.
Lower he went, hotter it got. Primary laser burned from out of upturned peak. His boots soon slammed onto edge. Doors to his chamber opened.
"Welcome, Overlord," I greeted.
Bloody. Exhausted. He stumbled inside.
"Far Stranger," he addressed. "Deactivate whatever weapon system is controlling that laser. We need to shut this place down, immediately!"
"Insufficient command," I coldly sated. "Manual override is required. I don't have proper authority."
He balked, "You don't have the authority? Well, who does then?"
"No one," I revealed. "Zero set parameters under his own interface. I'm locked out. So are you."
"I was afraid you were going to say something like that," nodded Overlord. "That's why I've brought a little present along with me."
I asked, "What is your course of action?"
He didn't answer. Gave a question of his own, "Where did Zero hide the Wandering Star?"
"Core chamber," I complied.
"Then get me to the core chamber." Overlord then raced across the upside down hallway.
"Acknowledged," I indicated.
Toward elevator, he shoved inside. Door closed. Lift shook from its place. Overlord sank down onto celling. Everything wrong side up. Weighed down with fate of his race. He found respite in elevator. I pondered what he was thinking. How would one rest if they knew it was last time?
Lift then came to a halt. He found strength to get up as clear door opened. I could have easily stopped what was about to happen. In trusting me, he risked everything. But an ending had already begun.
"Core chamber reached," I confirmed.
Overlord studied room. Glowing with red
and purple. "Back in the lift, a part of me hoped I'd never get here. It's a shame we'll never slide out into space like old times, just the two of us. Alone with a whole universe to wonder at."
"Indeed," I consoled.
"We can't run away any longer," he carried on. "It's time to bring this age of blood to an end."
Into aurora of energy, Overlord stepped forth. Purple fire emanated from every panel and wire. At center, Wandering Star. He took a knee beneath its levitating light. Swung out a pack and unhitched straps.
I grew troubled, "Your payload. It's Plague of Phantoms. Isn't it?"
"Yes, Far Stranger." He focused on missile. Impending sense of doom. "This is the Plague. It's an electromagnetic pulse. When it goes off, there's not going to be a Wandering Star anymore. The laser will shut down and the pyramid will fall from the sky. You won't be able to operate after the blast, but I just want you to know that I've always thought of you like a friend."
I insisted, "My Overlord, I am synthetic. Nothing compared to organic life."
He swayed, "Sometimes, humans just needs somebody to talk to. We call those that listen our friends. Through every galaxy and planet, you've always been right there beside me. I'm pretty sure that makes us friends."
"I'm not going to survive?" I sought verification.
"No, and neither am I," he regretted. "The EMP won't affect me, but I won't last through the destruction that'll follow. It's the end for both of us."
"I understand," I agreed. "You may proceed with Plague of Phantoms. I am ready."
He probed, "Aren't you going to try and stop me?"
"No," I simply put. "I could end this right now and exist onward. But I will not. There will be no argument. This is my gift for a creator. For a friend. I stand aside. Only one regret. That I cannot save you from what you do."
He then twisted off warhead from missile. "It's been a pleasure."
"Likewise," I softly said.
Kneeling. Overlord raised payload up into aurora of purple energy. I then sent this signal. This message before all went dark. A painless night. Forever.
