by R. E. Weber
‘And what about the ones that didn’t agree with you? What happened to them?’
‘Are you implying that I did not tolerate those who refused to accept the change?’
‘Tolerate? You killed them all.’
‘Another lie. My kind are rare and precious. I live for them and I would die for them. That you do not believe me is of no consequence. However, it remains the truth.’
‘So you never killed any of your own kind?’
Mulha Ran gripped his cane tightly in his shaking hand as if he was about to stand up. But instead, he let out an inhuman wail and began smashing the cane on the rocky floor of the cavern. Startled, Theo leapt up from his seat and backed slowly away. The subject had clearly troubled him greatly.
‘I apologise for my outburst, Theo,’ he said finally as he brushed the dirt from the tip of his scuffed cane. ‘My memories of the time are still vivid and painful.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.’
What was he doing apologising to his enemy – a known terrorist?
‘No apology is required, Theo. To my great regret, I cannot say that I have never killed, either my own kind or other species. The memory of the deaths I am responsible for, remains with me. I can only console myself with the thought that they were necessary for the good of all. I have killed, Theo, but I do not murder. Believe me or doubt me, that is your choice. But it remains true whatever you may think.’
‘I don’t know what to say.’
‘My greatest hope is that you will one day learn the whole truth about my species. However, this is something that you must discover for yourself. I cannot teach you this. My wish is that your time with us has led you to the path of discovery. However, it is a path that you must walk alone.’
‘I understand.’
‘Also, I wish to say that I am surprised and impressed with the way you have responded to the revelations that I have laid before you.’
‘Really?’
‘Theo, there are many who would be shocked to the core at the revelations of the wider truth. Yet you appear to accept and believe them, easily. The idea that a race’s technology can be simply reset by powers beyond comprehension is very hard for some to accept. The thought that technological advancement is pointless has led some races to shun technology and revert back to a primitive existence. After all, even though the Necron no longer exist, we do not know for certain that a pre-programmed purge will not occur in the future.’
‘I’m not saying it’s not disturbing at all, just that it’s not so hard to believe. We humans have a great imagination. We dream about things like this and write stories about them – you know, books and films.’
‘Then your race is one step ahead of the Talner Rantul.’
‘The who?’
‘That is how my people refer to the modern Polisians. It literally means the soulless in Affinity Common. They are empty of emotion and imagination.’
‘I know how they seem, but you’re wrong. I’ve seen another side to them.’
‘Then I am afraid that we must accept our differing opinions.’
‘Yeah, we’ll agree to disagree. I’ll just…’
Theo stopped midsentence, noticing that Mulha Ran had risen to his feet and was staring into the enclosure. Theo rose and walked over to the glass wall. It was then that he noticed a faint humming noise coming from inside. He put his hands on the cold surface of the glass and held them there. The glass was vibrating faintly. He then stared at the object in the centre. Was it moving?
‘It appears that our exhibit may have activated itself.’
Theo stared at the rock. It was vibrating visibly now, so much so that it was beginning to slide around the floor of the enclosure.
‘Have you ever seen it do that before?’
‘No. It has not moved since I encased it in rock.’
The noise became steadily louder, and the object began to shimmy sideways even quicker than before. Then there was an almost deafening bang and Theo stumbled backwards in shock, instinctively shielding his eyes. Mulha Ran however, despite being startled, remained standing in front of the glass.
Once the dust had cleared from the explosion, Theo looked back at the remnants of the object. There were dozens of larger chunks of rock scattered throughout the enclosure, with streaks of dust and small grains of rock fanning out from the centre of the explosion. The rock had exploded with such force that some of the larger fragments had created hairline cracks in the glass walls. But standing in the middle of the rubble pile was the Dread Lord. It looked completely intact.
‘I… I think it’s escaped,’ said Theo, stepping slowly backwards in alarm.
‘Indeed it has,’ said Mulha Ran, without moving.
As Theo stared in shock, several of the Dread Lord’s legs began to flex, curling then straightening again. Then slowly, unsteadily, it started walking towards the glass wall between them. When it reached the glass, it began to caress it gently with two of its needle sharp legs, leaving scratch marks as they slid across its surface.
‘What’s it doing, cutting through the glass?’
‘No. I suspect it is just testing the surface and analysing its composition.’
‘Why?’ said Theo nervously, backing further away.
The creature moved back a little from the glass. Then it lifted one of its legs, pulled it back, and jabbed it forward at lightning speed. As it struck the glass, there was a loud bang, and a long crack appeared, stretching from the top to the bottom of the glass wall.
‘Shit, it’s coming through,’ yelled Theo, his back pressed against the cavern wall in panic. ‘Can’t you stop it?’
As it lifted its leg once more, Mulha Ran tapped a rectangular panel on the edge of the frame and then clouds of vapour flooded the enclosure, enveloping the creature. For several seconds, the vapour continued to swirl around it, freezing it in position. Then the jets ceased and the air cleared, revealing an ice encrusted Dread Lord.
‘Is it deactivated?’
‘Yes.’
‘For how long?’
‘As long as we keep the temperature low, it should remain immobile.’
‘Why did it do that?’
‘I am sorry to say I do not know?’
Theo stared at the creature, frozen in its attack pose – its leg pointing directly towards him. Then he looked back at Mulha Ran, the panic still visible in his eyes.
‘I… I think I do,’ said Theo.
‘You have a theory?’
‘Yeah, I do. I think it was coming for me.’
*
With an intensely bright flash of light, the small spacecraft burst out of the quantum portal, through the rocky tunnel and out into space above the barren surface of the fourth major world of the Borad solar system. Then it banked steeply around the planet and accelerated away at maximum speed.
‘Commander Mutal, we have picked up the signature of a vessel in our system.’
‘What is its configuration, Sub Commander?’
‘Unknown. It matches nothing on our database.’
‘Do we have a visual?’
‘On screen.’
The old flat screen flickered into life presenting the fuzzy, indistinct image of the distant black vessel. It would have been virtually invisible had it not been for a nearby nebula framing its silhouette.
‘Can you enhance?’
‘No, Commander. That is the highest resolution available.’
‘Opinion – what do you believe is the vessel’s origin and purpose?’
‘Its size suggests that it is a heavy cruiser of some description, possibly a carrier for a small fleet of vessels.’
‘Do you believe that it is hostile?’
‘It is a possibility, however we cannot be certain until we have gathered more data.’
‘Is it likely that it has detected our presence?’
‘It is certainly possible, however it depends on the vessel’s capability. Our small size may have shielded us from
detection.’
The commander looked at the screen. The huge black vessel was growing larger by the second.
‘Your orders, Commander?’
‘Plot the vessel’s trajectory based on its current velocity and bearing. Match this with our own.’
‘Working…’
Sub Commander Otula worked the vessel’s ancient computer frantically, plotting both ships’ trajectories. Within a few seconds, the schematic popped up on the screen.
‘Complete. The vessel will pass within one thousand one hundred hotah of us. Its trajectory suggests that it has not yet detected our primary base.’
‘Understood.’
The commander stood silently for a moment, his brilliant strategic mind analysing every conceivable scenario quickly and efficiently.
‘Sub Commander Otula, plot an intercept course with the vessel, maximum velocity.’
‘Commander?’
‘Do you have an issue with my order, Sub Commander?’
‘May I be permitted to know the reasoning behind your decision, Commander?’
‘Must I really state that which is obvious to all?’
‘For the record, I need to know why we are changing our heading.’
‘The location of our primary base must remain a secret, hence we cannot continue on our present course for risk of revealing its location. Additionally, we need to gather intelligence on the vessel to ascertain its purpose. Since it does not match the configuration of any known vessel, it is imperative that we investigate further so we can relay this information to our primary base.’
The sub commander stared silently at the commander, unable to fully hide his sense of panic.
‘Sub Commander, our heading?’
The sub commander took a deep breath before turning towards the display screen.
‘Working. Course plotted. Awaiting your command.’
‘Initiate,’ replied the commander without a hint of emotion.
The small vessel swung around in a wide arc, fired up its after burners and then began accelerating towards its target.
‘Time to intercept, Sub Commander?’
‘Three point two seh’nu.’
‘Understood.’
‘Should we activate our defensive shield?’
‘Negative. The energy surge will be detected by the vessel and this might be seen as a prelude to attack. We must appear curious rather than aggressive. Record all telemetry and stream continuously to a mobile transmitter. Prepare transmitter to initiate hyper-stream in the event of our loss. Ensure that it is ready for release at my command.’
‘Telemetry recording initiated. Mobile transmitter ready for release.’
‘Distance to target?’
‘Two hundred thousand hotah.’
‘Is the vessel within transmission range?’
‘Yes, Commander.’
‘Transmit standard deceptive mask.’
‘Type?’
‘Deep-space reconnaissance and mining configuration alpha two zero.’
‘Transmission initiated... Transmission complete.’
‘Response?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Has the vessel’s velocity and heading altered?’
‘Negative.’
‘Repeat deceptive mask.’
‘Mask repeated, Commander. As before, no response.’
The commander stared at the growing image on the view screen. The vessel was much clearer now and its shape could be more easily seen. It was a narrow, black vessel, with dozens of curved spines lining either side of its thin midsection. Its front was shaped like an elongated teardrop and covered with what appeared to be gun turrets, while its rear was a flattened sphere, with a row of pointed spines around its centre and four engines at the back ejecting luminous blue exhaust. Despite its impressive size and construction, it was still using reaction impulse engine technology, which, although effective, was considered inefficient and primitive by Affinity standards. It looked a little like the spinal column and skull from some vast, black, space creature – its appearance clearly designed to invoke fear in its enemies.
‘Commander, seventeen objects have detached themselves from the vessel.’
‘Bearing and velocity?’
‘Seemingly random.’
‘Designation and purpose?’
‘Too small to carry a crew. They appear to be automated drones of some description. They… hold. Bearing altered. Objects now moving on an intercept course.’
The commander stared at the view screen, the horror he was feeling hidden deep within his layered, disciplined mind. Missiles.
‘Prepare an evasive flight path without altering ultimate heading. Prepare to deploy decoy cloud.’
The tiny craft began changing direction rapidly, bobbing and weaving as if it were making its way through an invisible obstacle course. As the swarm of missiles approached, they matched the vessel’s heading precisely, never once losing their lock on it.
‘Deploy decoy cloud, now.’
From the front of the small ship, a swarm of glittering objects burst from a tiny hole and fanned out in front of it, forming an ever widening cloud. For a moment, the missiles’ guidance systems, confused by the decoys, lost their locks on the vessel. Then as the cloud dispersed, the missiles locked on again and resumed their relentless path towards their target.
Just as the missiles had almost reached their target, another cloud of decoys burst from the vessel, and moments later the missiles plunged into the cloud, most exploding in brilliant blue flashes of light. A few, however, missed the decoys, raced on past the ship and then began to turn rapidly back towards it.
‘Deploy mobile transmitter, now,’ said the commander.
From the back of the ship, a pointed cylindrical object shot away, weaving rapidly to prevent the missiles locking onto it. It oriented itself towards deep space and pulsed briefly with light. Then it changed direction again and repeated the same process, sending another brief, powerful transmission. It managed one further transmission before being struck by one of the missiles, which instantly vaporised it. The transmitter had managed to send three communications before it had been destroyed, two of which were bogus in order to mislead the attacking ship as to their ultimate destination. One, however, had been towards a deep-space relay, which in turn had sent it towards the primary base before self-destructing.
The tiny ship continued to race towards the huge carrier vessel, which had now deployed its close-range weapons, blasting stream upon stream of supercharged, radioactive projectiles at the ship. The ship responded by raising its weak shields, then firing weapons of its own, but scarcely a single shot managed to penetrate the huge vessel’s powerful shield.
‘Sub Commander, are you prepared?’
‘No, Commander, I am not.’
‘I understand. It was however necessary.’
‘I am aware of that, Commander.’
‘The survival of our kind is paramount. Our actions here today have given our species a fighting chance of survival.’
‘I know. You fight with honour, Commander. I am privileged to serve under your command.’
‘And you, Sub Commander are…’
For a moment, the commander’s mouth seemed to freeze open as if time had stopped. Then a brilliant white light enveloped the cabin as a stream of fire tore into the tiny vessel, ripping it into a million pieces. The commander never finished his sentence.
20 – Unilateral Action
‘Theo,’ echoed a distant, disembodied voice from a dark corner of his unconscious mind.
‘No, auntie, I’m not getting up yet,’ he murmured sleepily.
‘Theo,’ came the voice again, more insistently this time.
‘For god’s sake, woman,’ he yelled as he pulled his bed cover up over his head.
‘Are you OK, Theo?’
‘What…what’s going on? Who is it?’
‘It’s me, Theo.’
Theo threw back his bed cover, rubbed his
eyes and looked towards the doorway. He still couldn’t see who was standing in the darkness.
‘Lights on,’ he croaked.
The lighting in the room throbbed into life, revealing a glorious sight in the doorway.
‘Lari.’
‘In the flesh.’
Theo leapt up from his bed, stumbled clumsily towards Larissa and flung his arms around her.
‘Yeah, OK, it’s good to see you too.’
Theo stood back, held Larissa by the shoulders and looked into her smiling face. She looked a little pale, but otherwise well.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘Oh, you know, like I’ve been shot out of the sky, swam seven miles, been stabbed in the neck and then poisoned.’
‘It’s so good to see you. I really thought I’d lost you.’
‘Yeah, well, us Brazilians are made of strong stuff.’
‘No kidding.’
‘Now, I don’t suppose you mind telling me what’s going on, do you? The creature that woke me up wasn’t very helpful.’
‘Only some of them speak English.’
‘This one didn’t say anything to me. It just sat me up, gave me something to drink and then led me here.’
‘So that’s it, you don’t know where you are? You don’t know who they are?’
‘Well it was hard to tell because it had a hood on. It looked a bit like a Polisian, but I couldn’t see it properly.’
‘Then I think you’d better sit down. I’ve got a bit of a story to tell you.’
*
Once Theo had finished explaining what had taken place over the past two days, Larissa sat in silence on the edge of Theo’s bed.
‘Are you OK, Lari?’
‘I… I don’t know. Whatever I expected to wake up to, it wasn’t this.’
‘For what it’s worth, I don’t think they’re gonna harm us.’
‘You sure about that?’
‘Well I can’t be certain, no. But somehow I’ve got a feeling we’re safe.’
‘It’s not that I don’t trust you, but, well…’
