by Bianca D'Arc
Julian ducked his head. “I used my mother’s image and all her recorded messages to me to program the AI. I also used data from her personal files. Whatever I could salvage from the wreckage of Pacifica Station and the company archives, which were backed up offworld, thank the Goddess.”
“You believe in the Goddess,” the old monk said absently, with approval in his tone.
“So my mother taught us, and so we believed. My father’s family also believed in a female deity they traced back to a place called Fatima on Earth. Mom didn’t see a conflict. She always said the Goddess wore many guises and had many names.”
“A wise woman, your mother,” the old monk agreed. He stared hard at his screen, clearly thinking. “I would like to speak with your AI,” he said finally.
“So would I,” Julian replied. “I want to make sure the ship is all right. That anomaly we came through nearly knocked the stuffing out of her.”
Narrowing his gaze at Julian, the old monk tapped a command on his screen and immediately controls lit in front of Julian’s place at the table. Star could see that the limited command set gave him direct access to the Matilda. The old monk was showing a great amount of trust, since that console now gave Julian control of all the ship’s systems—including drives, and perhaps more importantly, weapons.
Julian didn’t hesitate, he opened a line of communication with the ship’s AI. “Matilda, are you there?”
“Well, it’s about time.” His mother’s voice came over the speakers hidden discretely around the room. “The ship is fine. How are you and Star doing?”
“We’re good,” he replied as if talking to a person, not a ship’s computer. But after all, he’d programmed it that way. “What about the aft gear? Are you stable enough?”
“The ship is fine,” she repeated. “A group of very nice young men are repairing the gear and some of the other problems, as we speak. And don’t fret, I’ve been watching their every move. They’re doing only the repairs I authorize and not a bit more. I won’t let them put a tracker on my ship or any foreign code in her systems. Don’t worry. I’ve got it covered.” She paused only a moment before asking another question of her own. “We’re at the Zenai temple on Solaris Prime. Did they have something to do with the anomaly that sucked us right out of our galaxy into theirs?”
“I’m not sure. What do you know of the Zenai priesthood?” Julian countered.
Star half expected a computer’s cold recitation of the facts, but Matilda surprised her by initiating her own hologram. A robed woman appeared at the center of the large conference table. It showed her upper half, as if she was sitting at the table with them, and she was looking directly at Julian and Star. She was, without a doubt, Julian’s mother. They had the same deep set eyes.
“I know more than you think,” she said, adding to the mystery of the AI’s behavior. “There’s so much I couldn’t tell you before, son. So much family history to share, and warn you about. My family was always closely tied to the Zenai, but you can tell him all about that—” The woman’s head turned abruptly to look at the old monk. “Can’t you, Theos?”
“Mattie?” the old monk asked with tears in his eyes. “Are you really here or am I dreaming?”
“It’s good to see you again, brother.”
“How?” the monk she had called Theos whispered.
“I left a part of myself behind for my son to find.” She shrugged. “I’ve been traveling with him on and off for months now. Our company was developing new technology that allowed partial brain interface with AI systems. When I realized Pater’s people had found me, and what could happen, I repurposed one of the drives for personal use. I spent my last moments in the physical world, copying a lot of the data in my physical brain into an archive that Julian retrieved from the company’s offsite storage a few months ago. When he dumped it all into the ship’s AI, I took over. Oddly…somehow…on very rare occasions, it’s as if the real me—the spirit—can come through. I’ve been active since they rebooted the ship’s AI here at the temple. It’s the longest I’ve ever been able to maintain the spirit connection. Something about this place…it lets me talk to you even though my spirit is…elsewhere.”
“Some of the priests here have spoken to spirits before,” the old monk revealed. “I’m aware there are limitations on what you can tell us of the place you are now, but please, sister, can you tell me… Can you forgive me? I should have fought harder for you.”
“Oh, Theos, there is nothing to forgive. We were both powerless against our father. He and I have made our peace here. All is well and I am content. I had a wonderful life and family in the Milky Way. We had a thriving business and I lived a life of luxury. It wasn’t the imperial palace, but I wanted for nothing—especially love. My human mate was my true mate, Theos. He loved me as I loved him. It was a good pairing and we had wonderful children…” She looked over at Julian who had tears sparkling in his eyes. “As you can see.”
“I’m sorry, Mom,” Julian said in a voice filled with emotion. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I keep thinking that I could have done something to save you. I could’ve fought them and stopped them from blowing the entire station. I could’ve saved our family.”
“No,” Matilda said softly. “You could not. Destiny runs a certain path—as Star can tell you—and some events are set and cannot be avoided. The destruction of Pacifica Station was one of those immovable moments. It had to happen. And whether they’re in the mortal world with you or here with me, your family has never stopped loving you. Neither time nor space nor the realms that divide us can ever change that. Your father, your siblings—they each send you messages of love and support. And when, someday, you join us here, they will be waiting to welcome you with open arms, and hearts full of love.”
The tears flowed silently down Star’s face. She knew exactly what Julian’s mother meant about immovable instances of fate.
“But you have much to do before then,” Matilda said in a sterner tone of voice. “I’m not here to tell you exactly what to do—the Goddess gave you free will for a reason—but I think you all have figured out by now that Pater must be made to pay for his crimes. If that idiot has his way, the war between our galaxies will grow even bigger.”
“Neither I, nor the temple elders wish that to happen,” Theos said quietly. “There is growing feeling among the priesthood that we should have never been at war with the humans in the first place.”
Matilda’s hologram pursed her lips. It looked like she wanted to say something, but was constrained by whatever rules Theos had referred to that governed what she could and couldn’t say from beyond. Although Star had never seen it in person before, there was the occasional member of her extended family that was able to talk with the dead, so this wasn’t all that strange to her.
The whole possessed hologram thing? Well, that was new. But Star was adaptable.
“Perhaps I can help a bit here, milady,” Star offered, speaking directly to Matilda’s spectral image.
Matilda looked at her with eagerness. “What have you foreseen, Star?”
“Not I, milady. My mother was able to see both forward and backward in time.” Star shrugged. “The gift presents itself a little differently for each of us. Buy my mother talked many times of what she had seen. The time that evil triumphed and the war began. She saw the universe, and our two galaxies in particular, as being pawns in a greater game between good and evil. She described the Goddess as the embodiment of goodness. Apparently there was a struggle in both galaxies when the war began, and the possible threads of the future turned to war rather than peace when evil prevailed. But, she said, there would be a time in the future when the war could be stopped. We will have several opportunities—and most of my family has seen this in one form or another, including myself—to go deeper into conflict, or move toward peace. This is probably one of those times.”
Matilda was smiling at her and nodding. “Your family is truly gifted, Star. I’m glad you cared enough abo
ut the future to put yourself in harm’s way with my son. If no one else has said it, allow me. Thank you.”
Star looked down and shook her head with an embarrassed smile. “You’re welcome, milady, but I couldn’t do anything else and still be able to look at myself in the mirror. Sometimes this gift…it makes great demands on the women in my family. This just happens to be my time to serve.” She shrugged.
“What can you tell us specifically, Lady Star?” the old monk asked, his eyes narrowing in thought.
“Let me ask you one question first. Is this Pater of Moon Malek a large, rather hairy, red-headed man who wears a golden serpent medallion around his neck? And are his colors ochre, crimson and black?”
“Exactly so,” the monk replied with a bemused tilt of his head. Star felt her stomach sink.
“Then this all begins to make a lot more sense to me. I was missing bits of information that are beginning to be filled in as I learn more about your galaxy.” Star felt a little stupid for taking so long to figure it out. The clues had been there, but she hadn’t seen it because she was so wrapped up in the emotion of the moment. “Forgive me for not realizing all of this a lot sooner.”
“Things happen in their due time, child,” Matilda said in a motherly tone that was incredibly soothing. And very reassuring. Maybe she hadn’t been meant to put it all together until she got here, among these people who could do something about what she had seen. It made sense.
“I’ve been meditating on the emperor for many months. Most often, I saw Julian and his plans for vengeance. The visions gradually morphed into me traveling with him and then I began seeing you, sir.” She nodded toward the old monk, who was in truth, the former emperor and Julian’s uncle. “But all along, every once in a while, I saw the golden serpent on those colors and eventually, the man I described. He was plotting in darkness, and his sword was dripping with blood.”
“I take it that’s not a good sign?” Theos mused.
“Depending on the circumstances of the vision, that kind of image can mean several things, but you’re right—none of them are good. In this case, I believe that image, along with the context of my visions, means he is plotting against the emperor. Taken altogether, I believe he is seeking to escalate the war for his own ends. He wants the throne,” Star declared in a strong voice, belief in every syllable. “And he’ll kill you all, and anyone else who stands in his way, to get it.”
“Then we must stop him,” Theos declared. “I’ve wanted a piece of him—preferably his head, mounted on my wall—for a long time.”
“Theos!” Matilda objected.
“What? He cost me my sister. I never stopped missing you, Mattie. It was never the same here with you gone,” the old man admitted quietly.
“Oh, Teo, I missed you too, but it had to be this way. There was no other way for me to find my true mate. I had to go find him in the Milky Way.” She smiled at her long lost brother. “And you did well here without me. But you never should have abdicated. Thad is not as steady as you. I fear his temper may throw the empire into utter chaos one of these days.”
“I had no children. You were gone. My mate was dead. I had no desire to go on,” Theos said quietly. “Giving Thadios the throne seemed like the only logical choice. If I couldn’t be happy, at least I could make him happy. He always wanted power.”
Matilda had that look again, like she wanted to say something but couldn’t. Star watched her carefully and realized there was more to this spirit talking stuff than met the eye. The next time she saw one of her relatives that spoke to the dead—if she ever had a chance to go back to the Milky Way or see her family again—she was going to try to learn a lot more about this kind of thing.
“You have the proof now to sink this Pater guy for good,” Julian interjected when the silence dragged on a bit. All heads turned toward him. “I gathered evidence. I wanted there to be a record of why I did what I did, and I wanted it to contain absolute proof of what was done and by whom,” he said in a steely voice. “I’d planned to kill the emperor, and knew I would die for it,” he admitted, holding Theos’s gaze. “But now I find the current emperor wasn’t even on the throne when my family was killed. You were, Emperor Theos. But now you’re a holy man. And if that don’t beat all, you turn out to be my long lost uncle.” Star could see Julian’s temper returning as frustration gripped him. “What the hell am I supposed to do with that?”
“Well, you could still try to kill me.” Theos shrugged as if the gasps from the rest of the occupants of the room didn’t matter.
“I have a rule about killing holy men…and family.” Julian actually smiled a bit as he sat back in his chair, some of the anger leaving him. “Plus, from everything I’ve heard so far, I don’t think you would have ordered your sister’s death. And there’s one other thing…” Julian touched a control that sent an encrypted file from the Matilda’s data banks to Theos’s screen. “In all my digging for evidence, I could never find that one last link to prove beyond a doubt that the emperor gave the order. I believed he had, and I was willing to die for that belief because I figured any emperor worth his salt would have been able to get anything done without an evidentiary trail, if he wished. But in light of everything I’ve seen here today, I admit, I was wrong.”
“Well, hallelujah,” his mother said sarcastically. “I swear, Julian, sometimes you are as pigheaded as your father. Of course Teo didn’t order anything! He is the last person in the universe who would have harmed our family.”
“Thanks, Mom. I see that now,” he replied, smiling slightly. It was good to see the banter between a mother and son who had such a good relationship. It made Star’s heart hurt a little to know what Julian had lost when he’d lost his mother. And she was even more grateful for this opportunity to meet the woman who had given life to him.
Julian’s gaze narrowed as he looked at the hologram. “All those times I talked to the ship’s AI out on the galactic rim… Were you there? Or was I just talking to a clever computer that sounded a lot like you?”
“Sometimes,” she hedged. “I don’t control it. The powers that be determined when you needed me most, but yes, there were times when I was present with you. I wanted to tell you. To make it clear that I was really there, but… It wasn’t allowed. Now though, something about the temple… I can’t explain, but I know it’s all right. You needed to know now. And I’m so thankful I get to talk to you again, even if I know it can’t last. I love you so much, Julian.”
“I love you too, Mom. And I really miss you.”
Julian didn’t seem to mind that everyone in the room could hear how choked up he was by the admission. The mother and son shared a teary look for a moment before Julian cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter.
“So, now that we know what happened, how do we achieve justice?” Julian brought them back to the matter at hand.
“I will summon him,” Theos said, sounding every bit the emperor he once was in that moment.
“But will he come?” Dr. Terva asked, reminding everyone of his presence in the room. It was clear from his question and the former emperor’s acceptance of the doctor’s right to ask it that they were long-time friends. “Pater has never been the most obedient of subjects, and the residents of that moon are among the more lawless.”
“But they are very faithful to the Goddess, regardless of their other transgressions. Perhaps it is time to ask the High Priest for his help,” Theos said, his eyes narrowed in thought.
“Moon Malek is so lawless, in part, because its people are so religious,” Matilda put in. “The only real authority they recognize is the Goddess and Her priests. If the High Priest needs convincing, there are a few things I could say that might change his mind.”
“I think we need to bring His Eminence up to speed,” Theos said decisively. “Terva, would you be willing to seek out Sethran and ask him to join us here at his convenience?”
Star thought it very telling that the former emperor used such polite lan
guage and sent his friend, the doctor, rather than one of the warriors. Even the former emperor didn’t order the High Priest of the Zenai around.
Terva agreed and left the room quickly. It was also telling that Theos apparently called the High Priest by his given name.
Only a few minutes later, the High Priest arrived. Theos took charge, explaining what he could of what they had learned, in a concise manner. Matilda kept quiet for the most part, though the High Priest surprised them all by saying he had been expecting a visitation from her for a long time. He seemed to take the fact that he was talking to a spirit given form by technology in stride.
In due course, His Eminence, Father Sethran, High Priest of the Zenai Temple, agreed to convene an ecclesiastical court in the temple. He further agreed to summon Pater of Moon Malek and any of his retainers who had participated in the destruction of Pacifica Station in the Milky Way galaxy. By making it a matter of religion, rather than politics, they would avoid a lot of problems for the current emperor. Still, it was decided that Emperor Thadios would need to be briefed before Father Sethran set the wheels in motion.
From there, things happened very fast. The emperor himself showed up at the temple in response to Father Sethran’s request. Even the reigning emperor, it seemed, was not above the Zenai priesthood.
Julian and Star were dismissed while Theos talked with Emperor Thadios in private. Dr. Terva went with them and the two guards to a nearby break room where they were able to have a warm beverage while they sat talking quietly.
“I wasn’t kidding when I said my House would welcome you, Julian, for the sake of Peregrine’s contribution to your DNA, even if he wasn’t technically your parent,” Terva said as they sat around a small table. The two guards were stationed at the door, silent sentinels.
“Before today I didn’t even realize my own mother was an alien, doc,” Julian said with a wry smile. “I’ve always assumed I was one hundred percent human. The military sure didn’t tell us that they were Enhancing us with jit’suku genes. I doubt I, or any of my brethren, would have agreed to it, had we known.”
