“Could I see the map again?” Brent asked the Seeker.
Before he had even finished his question, the view changed to an overhead map. He stared at the map, hoping for a clue of any kind. He remembered the map replaying the events of the Slasher to the south. He thought to ask how far it could rewind when the map started reversing. As Brent watched the patrolling Slashers moving backwards, he realized the interface must respond to his thoughts. He thought of the motion speeding up, and it obeyed. He watched as the units moved backwards at quadruple speed. At the accelerated rate he noticed something odd. All the Slashers moved in perfectly straight lines. They would speed along their assigned route, only turning at the edges of the route to begin another sweep. However, the patrol nearest the encampment seemed to pulse.
He wanted a closer view, and the map automatically zoomed in. He watched as the Slashers would swing out of the way of large metallic bumps in the otherwise smooth surface. Brent suddenly realized that the bumps were moving. As soon as the Slasher had passed the obstruction, it would move forward. He sat back for a moment and laughed. The recruits were sneaking right under the noses of the Slashers. He tried to tap on one of the Slashers, only to watch his hand wave pointlessly in the air.
Remembering he had to think his commands, Brent focused on a random Slasher. A second display popped up, listing the condition of the Slasher. He looked through the information until he found a log. It was a gruesome affair, filled with the brutal eliminations of countless troopers reduced to raw data. Scrolling to the end of the log, he found it filled with dozens of similar entries. “Path obstruction: Blast damage – corrected.”
Brent smiled to himself. The Slashers had assumed the warps in their path were caused by the orbital bombardment. Not one of them had paused to investigate, and that annoying octopus inside the Citadel was completely oblivious to their approach. For a moment, Brent considered ordering the Slashers to attack the recruits, to overrun the encampment, and complete his mission and the exam. However, his hand subconsciously moved to his side. He knew this was only an exam, but it felt real. That small bit of shrapnel was an unbearable pain. What would it be like to be sliced in half by a giant tripod? Shaking the thought from his mind, Brent wondered how he could prevent the recruits from destroying the Citadel without harming them. He thought to return to the zoom view, and the Seeker complied. The metal domes were getting closer and closer to the Citadel. A Slasher was approaching quickly. The metal domes paused, waiting for the Slasher to pass.
Brent wanted the Slasher to stop. To his surprise, the Tripod slammed both of its blades into the planet and came to a dead stop. Brent didn’t just control the view, he could control the Shards. He mentally ordered the Slasher to stand in front of one of the “path obstructions” and not move. He watched as the Slasher took the desired position and waited. It took on a relaxed posture. He could almost imagine the hulking tripod taking a breather, catching its breath after hours of patrolling. The metal domes froze; not one of them moved. Brent burst into laughter as he thought of the tense moments he had endured under the watchful eyes of the stealth instructor. Something was wrong. Brent had heard his laughter all too clearly. He suddenly realized the constant rhythmic bombardment had stopped. The entire world was encased in a dreadful silence. Brent wished he could talk to the annoying squid; maybe it would know what was going on.
“How may I be of assistance?” Brent could hear the voice of the metallic squid.
“What is going on? Has the seventy-two hours passed?” he asked aloud.
Brent waited a few moments but no response. He hit his forehead as he realized he had spoken his question. The squid thing was talking to him through the seeker.
“What is going on?” he thought his question. “I thought I had half an hour.”
“Half an hour?” the voice questioned.
“Point five hours! I thought I had more time until the seventy-two hours lapsed.”
“You do. There are exactly point three hours until the organics expend their resources.”
“Then why have they ceased their bombardment?”
“Unknown. Perhaps our intelligence was incorrect, and they had less storage capacity than we estimated . . . Strange.”
“Strange? What?”
“Seekers are reporting that the ships in orbit are jumping away.”
“They recovered their troopers, err organics, already?”
“Negative. All organic ground forces remain on the surface and are continuing to engage our defensives.”
“They are leaving them behind?”
“Apparently. Seekers are . . . Alert . . . unknown interference . . . command protocol lockdown . . . emergency override.” The voice crackled and faded.
Brent watched as the Slashers all ground to a halt. Their glowing orbs shifted upwards. One of the metal domes hesitantly lifted. A recruit slowly emerged and pushed on the Slasher Brent had ordered to remain still. The Slasher fell over. The recruit looked up in the direction the Slasher had been staring and started shouting. The other domes quickly flipped over, the recruits staring upwards in terror. Brent shifted his gaze upwards as the view went dead.
Glancing at the Seeker, he found it staring above the Citadel. The Slasher in the crater was staring up as well. The glow of its orb was brightening. Brent stared into the sky. The massive battleships in orbit had ceased their barrage. The yellow lighting of the jump drives created an unsettling pulsing pattern in the skies above. A shiver of fear raced down his spine – he had seen this before. A lifetime of forgotten nightmares washed over him. The dancing yellow lights were the jump drives of the departing fleet. His eyes widened as overwhelming dread reminded him what was coming.
The massive sea of ships parted, forming a void above the Citadel. The void increased in size as the entirety of the fleet jumped away. One by one, the massive battleships disappeared until the sky above was completely empty. The all-encompassing shadow of night was broken by a single point of light. A ship was jumping into orbit. The tiny point slowly expanded, pushing the lightning outward in an unnatural square shape. The rectangular stillness inside the dancing lightning continued growing to impossible size. The massive window wrapped in the fluctuating yellow whips of energy finally finished growing over the Citadel.
Slowly but surely, the bow of a ship emerged. The wisps of energy lashed out at space as the behemoth slowly entered orbit. The sight sent every hair on his body standing on edge. He estimated it would take at least a dozen of the massive battleships stretched bow to stern to measure the radius of this new thing in orbit. Brent could only imagine how much power it had taken to jump something so large. A split formed down the center of the ship from end to end. As the split widened, the serrated edges of the massive plates gave the ship the appearance of a massive maw opening to devour the planet below.
It was all he could do to suppress the trembling as he recalled the razor sharp teeth from his nightmares. The monster from his dream was no figment, and his imagination had failed to match the shear power of the real thing. A brilliant blue glow escaped from the split and cast the entire battlefield in a warm, pale blue haze. As the mouth opened further and further, Brent could make out a massive spinning sphere of blue. His mind was too enwrapped by fear for him to even begin to guess what it was.
The surface of the sphere undulated and surged violently as the opening massive maw slowly revealed more of it. Thin translucent wisps of light seeped out of the massive maw high above the Citadel. The ground under him started to shake. Violent tremors ripped at the Citadel, but it remained firm. Brent could hear collapsing structures in the distance. The city he had started in was shaking into nothingness. He couldn’t keep his balance as the shaking intensified. Forced to his knees, he watched as the bay of the massive ship overhead opened completely. Only the edges of the teeth remained visible as the blue sphere started to grow.
The screaming of the troopers was drowned out by a steady hum. The massive sphere of pure blue ligh
t hung listlessly for a moment in the sky. Then with impossible speed, the blue sphere dropped from the sky. The speed of its movement warped it into a gigantic, translucent teardrop. The hum of the sphere had transformed into a wail. Its speed increased as it raced toward the surface, melting its shape sharper and sharper until it resembled a long spear of pale blue light. The wail cried out as the spear descended on the planet beneath, as if begging for forgiveness from those below. The spear grew closer and closer. The tremors pushed and pulled at the ground, giving it the appearance of a massive sea of metal quicksand. The wail was deafening. The tip of the spear collided with the top of the Citadel.
In a brilliant flash, the mighty Citadel was gone, replaced by a massive wall of light. Brent felt a wave of intolerable heat rush over him. There had been no massive explosion, no crimson whips, or mushroom clouds. There had been no sound at all. One moment the world was full of life and sound; now only nothingness remained. The world was being suffocated by silence. In the distance, Brent watched as the wall of pure white rushed over the recruits and Slashers alike. He knew everything beyond the wall was gone. The emptiness rushed toward him. He knew it was over. The invading troopers were dead. The defending Shards were dead. They were all dead. Brent forced himself to his feet. He stood ready to face the wall of blinding light. There was no way anyone could stop such a terror; the nothingness would consume the entire world. As the wall washed over him, a single tear rolled down his cheek.
A stunned silence fell over the observation room. Troopers exchanged glances, unsure what they had just witnessed. A dull murmur grew in the silence. The monitors were still brightly shining, a pure white light covering every inch.
“Is it over?” A lone trooper broke the silence.
After a slight pause, faint laughter could be heard. Several troopers had started laughing. With the silence broken, the floodwaters were released. The massive room burst into a calamity of cheers as their mutual anxiety was unanimously released.
“I didn’t see that one coming.” Nathan was still watching the brilliant white monitors. “I know you didn’t want Brent to win, but seriously, Jack, was that necessary?”
There was no response. Nathan turned to find his friend staring blankly into the distance, more than a little pale. Nathan waved his hand in front of Jack’s black stare.
“You okay, Jack?” He shook the Weaver.
“That wasn’t planned, Nathan.” Jack’s voice was shaky.
“What do you mean? You told me all about your plan. Wasn’t that it?”
“What I discussed with Julia wasn’t anything like this. The ‘recreation’ as she called it, was limited to the landscape. The troopers were to fight on a metal world. That was it.”
“So the Shard . . .”
“Weren’t supposed to be there. None of it was. No fleet overhead, no bombardment, and no armies. Brent was supposed to be on the ground with a squad of Commonwealth troopers using outdated weapons along side two other groups of recruits.”
“Could Miss Coudert have fleshed out the exam without you knowing?” Nathan asked, hoping for a simple solution.
“Don’t be silly. You’ve seen enough plays to know the work involved in creating them. The entire world was active. It would take months, maybe even years, to get that level of detail.”
“I knew this was a bad idea. We should have let the recruits rest in Medical. No one has ever tried to link so many plays at once before.”
“You honestly think this was a technical glitch in the 3Ps?”
“I don’t know what to think. Thirty seconds ago I was content in the knowledge that this was just another exam and that tomorrow morning everything would go back to normal. The recruits would retake the standard exams. They’d join the divisions and by the time the trials took place not a single person would remember these odd exams. That boy is bound and determined to put me in an early grave!”
“Brent? You’re blaming him?”
“Of course. Yesterday I was blissfully decomposing in a wonderfully boring life. He steps foot on my academy and all of a sudden I’m watching my life pass before my eyes every few hours.”
Jack stared at his short friend for a moment and then laughed a single time.
“You might complain, but I know you better than that, Nathan. You are enjoying this.” Jack chuckled as his demeanor softened.
“I think you might want to have those abilities of yours checked out, Jack. You’ve lost it.”
“You don’t have to be a Weaver to tell. It’s written all over your face. ‘Blissfully decomposing’ isn’t the life for you, or me. Didn’t you once tell me that life without risk is too bland to be enjoyable?”
“Perhaps, but I’d rather risk my credits than my sanity. I hope you learned something valuable from that . . . whatever it was – I’m sure it cost me a few years of my life. That reminds me, I wonder how our little wager did.”
“Not well, I’d imagine.”
“Oh? Why’s that?”
“I can see your pad from here. You’ve got an urgent message from Julia.”
Nathan dug into his pocket, pulling out the half exposed pad. There wasn’t a single message, but twelve. Nathan bit his lip as he opened the most recent.
“Well? What’s our fair instructor want?” Jack asked as Nathan read.
“The poor thing is frantic. At least I’m not the only one at a loss around here. She doesn’t know what to do. She’s already got requests from division leaders, other instructors, and even a few bookies wanting to know the verdict of the exam.”
“Wait, just the verdict?” Jack asked with raised eyebrow. “Don’t they want to know what we just saw?”
“She says a few are curious, but most seem to take that we saw nothing more than one more strange exam on a day full of strange exams.”
“I’ll be. Besides Miss Coudert and the two of us, not one person has figured out we lost complete control.” Jack laid back with a big grin.
“I just want this day to end. What should I tell her?”
“Tell her to make sure it stays that way. Have her make something up – doesn’t matter what really. The recruits will have to take the real exams tomorrow, so all of this won’t matter in the end. Just make sure no one figures out how badly we lost control.”
“You’re satisfied with that?”
“I have a feeling I’ll be able to answer any questions I have left soon enough.”
Jack got up and stretched. After a final survey of the room, he headed toward the doorway leading back to the rest of the station.
“You’re leaving?” Nathan turned to watch Jack leave.
“I enjoyed the show, but I still have another part to play in our little drama,” Jack called back as he left the observation room.
While the troopers were fixated on the white monitors, Cain quickly headed toward the lounge. Scanning the room, he quickly sat at the farthest group of tables from the observation room proper. The farther he got the better he felt. As he sat at the farthest one, he felt a hand fall on his shoulder.
“Think we could use these tables as a barricade if the troopers try to kill us?” Daniel took a seat across from him.
“So, I’m not the only one with a sense of impending doom?” Ruth sat next to Cain, her eyes focused on the troopers still cheering.
“I can’t reach instructor Coudert. It’s only a matter of time before it dawns on someone.” Cain was frantically watching his pad.
“That we don’t have a clue if anyone passed that exam?” Ruth was fidgeting anxiously. “Someone is bound to put it together sooner or later. How does this affect us?”
“How can we know?” Cain shrugged.
“The terms of the exam were simple: destroy or defend the Citadel,” Ruth interjected
“Okay, which one?” Daniel rubbed his temples. “There were six Citadels, not one. Who was defending? From what I saw everyone was an invader. Does an act of god count in favor of the recruits or not?”
“Act of
god?” Ruth was perplexed.
“I don’t know about you, but I’ve never seen a ship like that.” Daniel spread his arms as if encompassing the massive ship from the exam. “Doubt there really is such a ship.”
“There are a great many things between heaven and hell . . .” Cain said with a smirk while still watching over his pad.
“My guess is that the instructor intervened for whatever reason and ended the exam,” Daniel continued. “Maybe she forgot to mention a time limit?”
“So, the instructor intervened. Does that help us or hurt us?” Ruth ignored Cain’s aside as well. “We have to come up with something. We can’t just tell every trooper with a bet that instructor Coudert is the one who passed the exam.”
“I swear, this job is too demanding.” Daniel sighed. “Even if we make a profit today, it won’t be worth this kind of anguish.”
“Quiet, both of you.” Cain waved the others silent. “Coudert is responding.”
“Well?” Daniel asked after a tense silence.
“I’m arranging for her to announce the results herself; no one is going to believe this otherwise.” Cain was feverously tapping at his pad.
Abruptly, Cain rose from the table and quickly ran to the observation room. Ruth and Daniel followed closely. The white monitors were shifting to a new image. It was instructor Coudert, a tense expression on her face.
“Shush! It’s the instructor!” a trooper called out from the mob.
“What’s she want?” another trooper shouted.
“Good evening, troopers, division leaders, and my fellow instructors.” Coudert’s peppy tone sounded forced. “I’ve been informed that some of you are . . . interested in knowing how the recruits did on their last exam for the day. Before the exam, I put the recruits into two teams. The invading team was to destroy the Citadel while the defending team was to stop them. Due to a . . . technical glitch, only one person was assigned to the defending team. All other recruits were on the offensive.”
The Ninth Page 19
