“Peace?” Alexander said, as if pondering an unfamiliar concept. “Yes, we could have peace. When you reveal to me the location of the Oracle. Then we shall never fight again, you have my word.”
“You know I cannot do that, Lord King,” Caesar said wearily, “I gave my word to protect its location with my life, though I little knew how many times I would be called upon to fulfil my oath.”
Alexander shrugged as if that had been the answer he’d expected all along. “Then, my friend, you must die.”
“It seems so, but I ask that you spare my attendants.” Caesar’s arm swept to his side, indicating Arla, McCall and Hal.
“Why? Surely they must share their master’s fate?”
Caesar paused for a moment, as if unsure what he should say. “But they will not share my doom, Alexandros. They will not awaken.”
Alexander’s eyes widened. “What is this? They can die indeed? Let us test this!”
“No!” Caesar cried, moving himself to stand between the enemy and the three humans.
With a cry, Alexander ran up the hill, sword drawn and death in his eyes.
And then a flash. A man behind him fell. Another flash and another. Then, with a sudden cry, Alexander himself fell to the floor, smoke curling from the hole in his chest. The remaining men fled from the wrathful figure striding down the slope.
“I am Apollo!” the man called. Dressed in a white chiton pinned to his shoulder with gold, he cast lightning from his hands as he roared in rage. None of Alexander’s party remained alive to carry news to their fellow soldiers, they lay smoking at the foot of the slope, smitten by an angry god.
Caesar flung himself to his knees. “My lord Apollo! You come to me in my hour of need! Please, aid me in avenging my dead. Help me to cast the army of Alexandros, evil spawn of Hades, from the face of Orbis!”
“I think not,” the figure in white said. “Hello Arla, I’m glad I wasn’t too late.”
“Hello Wells,” Arla replied, “so am I.”
Golem
“Quite ingenious,” Wells said as they sat around the small fire. Caesar kept watch in the cave’s entrance, his reverence for the person he believed to be a manifestation of a god undiminished. Far from being the commander of the group, the general now considered himself to be the humble servant of Apollo and his three favoured acolytes.
Hal looked uncomfortable with his legs stretched out gun-barrel straight but this seemed to be the only way to stave off the cramps that had plagued him as they climbed into the mountains after fleeing Caesar’s camp. It had taken all morning to find this refuge and, outside, the glowing orb in the sky had passed its peak.
McCall’s face betrayed her exhaustion but she’d begun plying Wells and Arla with questions as soon as they’d found the cave and lit the fire.
Arla rubbed her hands. Blood flowed again through her extremities, though her back felt stiff and cold. “I don’t know why I thought of it, to be honest. An insurance policy, perhaps. I wanted someone conscious on the ship in case we needed help. Turns out we did, though not in the way I’d expected.”
“I confess I was confused when I awoke,” Wells said, smiling. “My immediate thought was that we must have either achieved our mission or failed but survived. Your note was quite a surprise. And you were correct, of course, it was safe for me to reactivate once the ship was inside the Intruder.”
“That was a guess. I’m glad it turned out to be right.”
“As soon as I was fully operational again, I decided I could be of most use by following you inside and, once I perceived the nature of this place, I realised the true danger you were in and I became compelled to find and rescue you.”
McCall groaned as she shifted herself. “Because of the First Law, I suppose.”
“Indeed.”
“Well, if that’s the case, why didn’t the exact same law prevent you from killing Alexander and his bully-boys?
With a thin smile, Wells said, “I killed no humans, doctor.”
“I knew it!” McCall said. “They’re robots!”
Wells shook his head. “No, doctor. While they are clearly an artificial form of life, they are not, by any definition, robots. They are not mechanical, nor are they constructed of metal and plastic. Alexander and Caesar are flesh and blood, of a sort.”
“Stop talking in riddles, man. If they’re not human and they’re not robots, what are they?”
“The best analogy I can offer, doctor, is that they are golems.”
McCall was approaching the point of exasperation. “And what the hells are they?”
“The golem was a clay figure from Jewish mythology,” Wells said. “Judaism was a religion of pre-galactic era Earth and it tells of a creature created magically from clay or mud and then animated. I believe that Caesar, and every other being on this ship - except for we four - has been constructed from material contained within it.”
“But they’re real figures from Earth history, aren’t they?” Hal asked, sneaking a look at the figure of Caesar standing at the cave entrance and safely out of earshot.
Wells nodded. “They are indeed. Very significant figures. They were both legendarily successful leaders in their own right, though Alexander died two centuries before Caesar’s birth.”
“So how can they be here?”
“I can only speculate, but I suspect the Intruder has visited Earth in the distant past. It was possibly observing the planet over an extended period and somehow sampled the DNA of both of these men and a large number of their followers. They could then create clones using the material we see around us as the matrix - clones that are perfect human facsimiles. I imagine they eat, drink, feel pain and even engage in sexual activity. But if they are destroyed, it appears they do not die as they were not alive in the first place. I guess that they disintegrate into the mud from which they were formed and re-emerge some time later with the memory of their last death added to the others.
“All this requires technology beyond my comprehension, but to be able to also transfer memories and personalities into these golems puts whoever is behind the Intruder onto a different plane entirely. They are like gods to us, if you’ll forgive me.”
Arla sucked air through her teeth and tried to rub the life back into her legs. “Which leaves the question - why? Two questions, in fact. Why this endless war and why are they tearing the Robot Empire apart?”
“I have no idea what purpose this serves, and as to the second question, I have only a theory. It must require energy on a vast scale to maintain this environment,” Wells said, before raising his voice. “Caesar, would you come here please. I believe we are quite safe for the present.”
Caesar bowed and, following Wells’ gesture, sat with them. “Lord?”
“How many men do you command here?”
“Before the attack on the camp, lord, I had one cohort of 466 surviving men, though…” he said, rubbing his stubble, “it is odd as I feel as though I should have two entire legions under my command.”
“And how many camp followers?”
Caesar shrugged. “I am not sure, but at least as many again.”
“So you have around a thousand souls under your command? And Alexander has as many?”
The face of Caesar darkened. “Yes, we are evenly matched in numbers, though he is merely a Greek.”
“And yet he defeated you this morning.”
“There will be other battles. All too soon he will rise again. Unless, lord, you help me to finish him for good and bring an end to this.”
Wells shook his head. “No, I cannot interfere as you ask.”
“Hold on,” Arla said. “Caesar, how do you think Apollo can help you, if he chooses to?”
“He is a god, mistress. If he intercedes with the Oracle, it must surely obey him. If he asks that Alexandros be left in the dust never to rise again, then we will finally have peace.”
It was cold in the mountains and Hal was struggling more than any of the others. Even with mechani
cal assistance, his legs could barely support his weight and the cold was seeping into his bones from the thin metal braces.
Caesar, who had initially marvelled at how such a simple mechanical device could allow a paralysed man to walk, was now concerned that they would not make it to the cave of the Oracle with Hal in tow. “Is he such a valuable follower, my lord Apollo, that we must risk our mission for him?”
Wells had responded with a simple “Yes” that had silenced Caesar, but Arla could see that the robot was concerned.
“Perhaps we should find somewhere sheltered where Hal can wait for us to return,” Arla said. She and Wells walked just behind Caesar and ahead of Hal, who struggled along, assisted by McCall. They were high up now, following a path more suited to goats than humans though they had, in truth, seen no animals on their journey. The air was filled with the prospect of snow which would, if it amounted to more than a dusting, spell the end of their day’s journey.
“I feel it is important for us all to be present,” Wells said, raising his voice against the wind that came ripping around the mountainside. “I do not know what we will find, though I suspect the Oracle has an important role beyond being a simple soothsayer.”
Arla dropped back and, now that the path was wide enough, was able to support Hal on the opposite side to McCall. “How are you doing?”
Hal didn’t reply, he merely gave her a quick, and rather poisonous, glance.
“I’m sorry,” Arla said. “I promise we’ll take you somewhere you can get proper medical attention as soon as we’re away from here.”
Hal grunted. “What makes you think we’ll ever get away? We’re no closer to doing what we came here to do.”
“That’s why we’re seeing this Oracle - perhaps it has the answers.”
“Or maybe just more questions.”
Arla didn’t respond, but wiped her eyes and pushed forward. The wind made her eyes sting, but that wasn’t why she wept.
“I do not believe it!”
Arla snapped out of her introspection at Caesar’s call. He was standing beside a rock that stood proud in the middle of the path. It was glowing a dull red. “This is the mark of the Oracle, but this is not where the cave was. That is still some distance from here. And yet, there is the cave entrance.”
Following Caesar’s pointing arm Arla could see an amber light up ahead. The land to their left was raised in a tall cliff and, embedded within it, was an entrance. It looked warm and inviting, but dread settled on Arla’s heart as the travellers stumbled inside.
Oracle
“I suggest you take the lead, Arla,” Wells whispered as they filed into the cave. He dropped back before she could answer, so she waited a little until Hal caught up and they could move forward together. She could hear him limping along beside her, panting as he struggled with the uneven floor of the cave. Caesar had remained at the mouth of the cave, in obvious fear for his life.
It took several seconds for her eyes to begin to adjust to the gloom inside. A fire had been lit in the entrance, as if it were a beacon, but once they’d passed it, the darkness was only punctuated by smaller fires burning in the natural cracks and recesses of the rock wall. The place stank. An acrid smell that reminded her of burning oil mixed with an undertone of rank decay. Her eyes swam, her nose burned, and it was all she could do to stumble on into the darkness.
There it was - a brighter glow up ahead created by what looked like an illuminated orb, perfectly round and shimmering. Beside it a figure crouched, its hands outstretched to the globe as if soothing and manipulating it. The air cleared as if a breeze were being fed into the cave.
“Who approaches the Oracle?” the figure said in a voice as old as the rocks themselves.
“My name is Arla, and with me are Hal, Indira and Wells.”
The figure continued to play with the orb. As Arla got closer, she could see it was an old woman, dressed in faded white, her head covered by white cloth that shimmered as she turned her gaze back and forth across the globe.
“To come here without leave is death,” the old woman said.
Arla stopped beside her and regarded the orb. Although at first glance it had seemed white, she could now see that it contained all the colours of the visible spectrum, though faded as if being viewed through a translucent lens. “And yet you made yourself known to us - you lit the fire at the cave entrance, didn’t you?”
The old woman turned her face to Arla. Her skin was of a deep brown, almost black, and when Arla looked into her eyes she saw darkness. It was as if she could step forward and find herself sucked into the maelstrom, and vanish from the universe.
“I have been waiting for you,” the woman said. “My name is Gaiana and I tend the Oracle.” With this, she pointed at the glowing orb that slowly rotated at her feet.
“What is the Oracle?”
Gaiana smiled. “That is a good question. For now, let us say that it is a lens that allows me to peer into the heart of this world. With it I can see what is to come and, in some small ways, influence the future for the people of Orbis.”
“And are you made the same way as the others?” Arla said, choosing her words very carefully.
“Like Caesar, who cowers at the cave entrance caught between his desire to know what I have to say and his fear of hearing it? No, unlike him, I am quite real. Quite human.”
Arla knelt down beside her. “So you know the true nature of this place?”
“If by that you mean that I know I’m the only truly living person in the whole of Orbis - until you came aboard that is - then yes, I understand that. But as to who made this place and why, I know as little as you.”
Hal interrupted, “What do you know of the Robot Empire?”
Gaiana’s face creased in confusion. “I have never heard of it, young man.”
“But this ship - it’s destroying planets, inhabited planets,” Arla said.
“I know nothing of this, this Robot Empire. What is a robot?”
Arla turned to McCall. “Doctor, is there any way you can confirm that Gaiana is human?”
“Not without a full exam,” McCall said, shaking her head. “And I somehow doubt she’d consent to that.”
Wells stepped into the light of the orb. “She is human, as far as I can tell. The other people of Orbis are easily distinguishable from flesh and blood humans, to me at least, so Gaiana is either a superior facsimile or she is a genuine human.”
“But you are not!” Gaiana spat as she half fell away from him and retreated to the other side of the globe. “Caesar, made of clay though he be, is more man than you are. I look at you and perceive a mind and body of cogs and gears. You are alien. You are not welcome here!”
Wells melted back into the shadows and Gaiana calmed a little. She gestured at Arla. “Why do you consort with that demon?”
“He’s not a demon, he’s my friend,” Arla responded, surprised by the strength of her feelings. “Now, tell me - how did you come to be here? You weren’t born in this place.”
“Oh, I was born here. My mother and her mother were the keepers of the Oracle before me. Now there is just me. And you.”
Arla felt as though ice were pouring down her throat. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
The old woman looked up at Arla, her eyes burning, “You took the bait, now the trap is sprung and there is no escape from this place. The gate through which you entered is closed and cannot be re-opened. Thank you, my child, I can now die in peace, my mission accomplished. You will be the keeper of the Oracle, you and your descendants.” At this, her gaze swept to Hal and then to McCall. “They will serve you, though he will not.” She thrust her arm at Wells who fell instantly to the ground.
Running over to where he lay, Arla knelt down beside him. There was no mistaking it, he was, as far as a robot could be, dead, his lifeless eyes staring up at the cave ceiling.
Arla jumped to her feet, stormed over to the globe, grabbed a handful of Gaiana’s robes and shook her. “You bitch! He
was my friend!” And then she noticed that the old woman’s gaze was as lifeless as that of Wells. She let go in horror and Gaiana fell sideways to the floor where she lay, unmoving.
Arla didn’t hear the tread of heavy boots, or Caesar’s gasp as he passed the inert body of the robot. She didn’t hear the creak of leather as he knelt before her.
But she heard what he said.
“All praise Gaiana, priestess of the Oracle and keeper of Orbis.”
And he was saying it to her.
Epilogue
Bex treated herself to a hidden smile of satisfaction as she raised a glass to Xi. Her gut instinct had proven correct and his pragmatically ambitious nature had meant he’d made an excellent Prime. In the weeks since his ascension, he’d brought both valleys under control and the robots had been allowed to return to normal duties.
Since he’d once been a member of the ship’s crew, Bex saw no need to keep the artificial distance traditional between captain and Prime - after all neither she nor Xi could be considered conventional holders of their respective offices. Not that she trusted him. What was that saying about keeping your enemies close?
She took another sip of the excellent wine of the South Valley and was about to place the glass back on the table in her cabin when an alarm sounded causing her to jump in surprise and spill wine over her arm. “Frak it!” she cursed before slamming her free hand on the contact. “What is it?”
“Sorry, captain.”
She could tell it was McLintock’s voice. He’d been keeping a very low profile since the incident in the galley - the one with the entirely accidental contact between his hand and her arse. She didn’t care if he felt uncomfortable. As far as she was concerned, he was lucky to still possess a hand.
“What is it?” she barked.
“We’re receiving a transmission from one of the ships. It seems to be a coded signal requesting ship-wide broadcast.”
Bex looked up at Xi whose face had creased with suspicion. She shrugged.
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