The Eidolon's Conquest

by Yamila Abraham

  "I have the comfort slave for Ottrea."

  Deandred sat up. "You do?"

  "A guy named Skip. I think he's perfect—and he's making his peace with it."

  "You told him?"

  "Yes, Master. It wouldn’t be right not to."

  Deandred tugged both his nipples. "Excellent. I'll trust your judgment. I'll provide you the coordinates for Ottrea's home and you can deliver him tomorrow."

  Rand closed his eyes and reveled in his reward.

  "I've still more fuel cells to coordinate tomorrow, but day after tomorrow I'll be coming to tour the camp. I would like to see how well you're managing the prisoners."

  "Yes, Master." He licked his top lip. "You going to fuck me tonight, Master?"

  "Without mercy."

  Oh, fuck yes.

  * ** *** * *** ** * * ** *** * *** ** ** ** *** * *** ** ** ** *** * *** ** *

  Rand still had an ache in his bottom when he flew into the camp the next day. He tried not to fantasize over how his master had made him scream with ecstasy. The last thing he needed was to go around with a boner.

  He made his rounds and found all was well. None of his reps came to hassle him when they saw him. Men were using the games in the rec room and playing basketball. Others were in the darkened TV rooms watching the recorded programs that they'd been permitted to access. In the cubes he found groups of men clumped together socializing. The relaxed atmosphere kept his spirits high.

  When he got to Skip's cube he found the soldier sitting on his bed with his packed knapsack beside him.

  He met his eyes with a gentle expression. "Time to go."

  Skip lifted his sack without uttering a word and followed him to the roof. In minutes they were flying towards the coordinates Deandred had given him. There were two routes Rand could have taken. He decided to skirt around the city the long way in case Skip wanted more reassurance. The soldier sat huddled in his seat, holding his bag with his head lowered. Rand didn't know what more he could say anyway.

  He saw caved in buildings and toppled towers. Apparently the west side had been left to decay. Far ahead was something gleaming in the sunlight. Rand squinted. He saw scaffolding and vehicles whizzing back and forth around it. Since it wouldn't take him far out of their way he veered toward it. He realized the giant gleaming object was made of metal and there were six more past it.

  Rand felt like fist reached into his chest and squeezed. The six giant metal things were shaped like rockets...each was bigger than Deandred's house. The robots whizzing back and forth were unloading ketomite ore...the stuff the Eidolons put in their bombs.

  Rand kept still while flying over. His heart was bashing the inside of his chest. There was a massive fleet of robots working on the warheads. His eyes darted over the scene looking for some shred he could hang some doubt on.

  No. You can't. You can't do this.

  A cold sweat broke on his temples. He looked at the orb in the reflective area of his dashboard. The thing was floating in its customary way with its camera focused on him.

  He got past the bomb area and tried to will himself down from his panic.

  He's not building them for nothing. All their resources are going there. They're going to get stocked up on supplies—and bomb the human race to extinction.

  God no...

  He came upon Ottrea's mansion. It was hard for him to focus on the controls to land. Then he tried to get his head back in the game.

  "Here we are," he said to Skip, forcing his voice to sound neutral.

  Of course that was their plan. You already knew it. Gizmoidon doesn't give a fuck about the truce.

  Rand opened the hatch and took Skip's bag from him to carry. On the circular drive, surrounded by two andromedas, was an Eidolon the same height as Deandred. He had golden waves of hair that fell to the middle of his back. His eyes were blue irises in a sea of black. Rand glanced at him quickly and deemed him handsome. He ushered Skip toward him with a hand on his back.

  "You're Rand," Ottrea said. He had a placid expression.

  "Yes, sir."

  "You destroyed my ship depot."

  Rand wet his lips in his mouth. "This is Skip. Skip, this is your master Ottrea."

  Skip kept his head down.

  "Look up. I wish to see your face."

  Skip obeyed while darting his eyes to one side.

  Ottrea smiled and turned to Rand. "How lovely he is. You chose well."

  "Thank you." He gave Skip's bag to an andromeda. "I have to get back to the—"

  Skip clutched his sleeve.

  Rand grimaced, and then looked back at Ottrea. "Look. He's scared shitless. Go easy on him."

  Ottrea smiled. "You don't have to be frightened of me, Skip." He extended his hand. "Come."

  Skip glanced at it, but hesitated. Rand nudged him with his shoulder. He stepped forward and accepted the Eidolon's hand.

  "Good luck."

  He strode back to the cruiser without a backwards glance. His capacity for compassion had been surmounted by a tumult of dread and terror. This time he took the direct route back to the prison camp.

  He went to his office, hoping for a private moment to have a breakdown. An orb followed him, as always.

  What the fuck am I going to do? His orbs are everywhere.

  He rubbed a hand over his face while his shoulders grew incrementally tighter.

  I can't let this shit happen. The fucking fantasy is over. Forget being happy with Deandred. That was never possible in this fucked up situation. You have to destroy that fucking computer—even if you die trying.

  He groaned, and then tensed even further. The tumult inside him was too strong to hide. Drawing suspicion now was an idiotic amateur mistake. He was a better saboteur than that.

  Rand keeled forward while hugging his middle. "Urrgh."

  He heard the whirring of the orb come closer. Rand looked with a constrained grimace.

  "What's the matter with you, human?"

  "My stomach hurts, sir. Must be the change of food."

  "How pathetically fragile you humans are."

  You'll get yours, you piece of shit.

  He clambered to his feet. "I'm going to head home, sir. I'm sure I'll be better by tomorrow morning." He strode past the orb while still clutching his middle.

  Once in the cruiser he ascended to twice the required altitude while feigning wooziness. The full city of Rendono was in view, including the gigantic dome in the middle. He saw a truck carrying fuel cells coming through a gate on the west side. The orbs flowed in and out from portals lining the south.

  "Fuck. What am I doing?" He lowered to ten thousand feet.

  He let the ship list to the left while shifting a gear. This put him off course, headed towards the dome. He groaned and rubbed his forehead while pretending not to notice.

  "Ugh...fuck...way too much grease at breakfast."

  "If you can't tolerate rich foods you should amend your diet," Gizmoidon said through his orb.

  "Yes, sir. It won't happen again."

  The dome came into clear view ahead of him. Orbs were guarding a mile wide radius on all sides. He saw a red glow coming from inside when a hatch opened for an orb.

  "Shit...I think I went the wrong way."

  Even closer he could see that the red glow was heated metal...Gizmoidon's processor. The whole south side of the building contained it. Rand could see the red and heat haze as the portals opened for the orbs.

  He began to fake some dry heaves. "Fuck! I'm going to puke!"

  He maneuvered to land in the nearest open spot, right next to the dome. Then he raced out and leaned against cruiser to continue to heave. In the reflection of the metal he could see the entire south wall was blurring the air with heat. It was going to take a gigantic bomb to destroy the thing. He faked a few more heaves, spat, and then wiped his mouth.

  "Bleh. False alarm."

  He got back into the cruiser. Now he steered so he could survey the entire perimeter of the dome while making a slopp
y u-turn in the air. The north and east sides did not emit a heat haze. The east side had caved-in panels and crumbling masonry in the cement wall that girdled the dome—a way to sneak in if he needed to.

  Rand flew the ship towards home.

  "Ugh...I think I'm going to die."

  "You truly are pathetic, human."

  * ** *** * *** ** * * ** *** * *** ** ** ** *** * *** ** ** ** *** * *** ** *

  Rand plopped onto his bed at home. He went through his mental pictures, filling in some logical blanks from the parts he hadn't been able to see. Gizmoidon was huge, and was able to run at temperatures that would vaporize him if he got close. Destroying him was going to be the hardest mission he'd ever attempted.

  He knew he could do it. The question was whether he needed to sacrifice his own life in the process.

  Dying was an easy choice if it meant preventing the bombs from launching.

  What if Deandred still pulled the trigger? If he died he'd have no way to convince him to spare humanity—no way to ensure his mission to save humanity was a success.

  Several hours passed and Rand heard Deandred's footfalls coming up the stairs. His master took off his cloak and dropped it on a chair.

  "I hear you're sick?"

  Rand sat up with a grimace affixed on his face. "It'll pass. Too much grease. Gets my ulcer going."

  Deandred tsked sympathetically. "I didn't know you had such problems."

  "Not often. Don't worry about it, Master. I'm just sorry I had to bail on work today."

  He stepped over and perched on the side of his bed to look down at him. "I meant to come by there tomorrow and see how things were running."

  "Don’t change your plans, Master. I want you to see how smooth I got things going."

  Deandred smiled. "But you're ill."

  "I'll be fine by morning. Promise." He climbed to his feet. "Eating some bread will help."

  Deandred cradled an arm around his bare back and kissed his cheek. "I shall order you some."

  The next morning Rand got up early and showered before Deandred got up. His master joined him at the small breakfast table in their room after his own shower. Rand was on his second helping of eggs. He smeared butter on half a biscuit.

  "You seem better."

  Rand smiled. "Fit as a fiddle, Master, and excited. I can't wait to show you the camp."

  Deandred sipped his coffee. "Go easy on the butter, my pet."

  In the hangar Deandred headed toward his cruiser. Rand's heart began to race. He forced his voice to stay even.

  "Let me drive, Master."

  Deandred corrected his path towards Rand's cruiser. "Oh. Yes, of course."

  Rand took off and headed toward the camp while Deandred tapped on his tablet. The flight was smooth and level, perfectly on course. Rand kept this up for two minutes.

  "Shit. That's a huge pocket of thin air."

  Deandred looked up from his tablet. "What are you—"

  Rand bumped a gauge with his elbow. The ship dropped by half their altitude.

  "Fuck! We're going down!"

  "Rand...pull up the nose."

  He began steering wildly. "I can't get control!"

  The two orbs riding with them smashed into the ceiling and then dropped. Rand glanced back to see their mangled shapes twirling on the floor. He leveled off and landed on a deteriorating highway.

  Rand took a deep breath through his nostrils. "Master—"

  There was a click beside his head. Rand turned to look down the barrel of an energy pistol. Deandred held it to his head with an expression of pure ice. Rand got a sickening ache in his stomach.

  "What do you think you're doing?"

  "I saw the warheads. I know what he's planning. Is that really okay with you? Destroying the whole fucking human race?"

  "I'm an instrument of Gizmoidon's will."

  Rand's eyes flared. "No you're not! You're not a fucking instrument! You've got a fucking heart in your chest, and you know right from wrong. You're all about conquering—so fucking conquer us! Don't kill everyone!"

  "I can't defy him. You already know that."

  "The Hell you can't! You're strong, and beautiful, and fucking perfect. You're going to tell me you don't have it in you to push free of his control? You can do it, Master. You have to."

  "Do you intend to destroy him, Rand? After all this time—when I thought you'd grown to relish your fate."

  "I do relish it! Just not the part where everyone else has to die!"

  Deandred turned from him. His dark eyes glistened with burgeoning tears. "I would have always defended you."

  Rand let out a shuddering breath. "Look, I—I shouldn’t have told you how I felt. It's not your fault. Gizmoidon's going to be sending more orbs. Let's go to the camp, get on with the tour. I just need to wrap my head around things."

  He engaged the engines to take off again.

  Deandred slowly lowered his gun. "This will not do. I can no longer trust you."

  Rand reached over, as though he meant to soothe his arm, but then pressed the button to unhook his seat belt. He sped the cruiser into the bottom of the building in front of them.

  "Rand—!"

  They crashed hard enough for the dashboard to pin Rand against his seat. He had to squirm to get free. Deandred was thrown partway through the windshield. Half his body was draped on the crumpled hood. Rand pried the gun from his hand.

  "Sorry, Master."

  He shot the two andromedas as they rushed him from the back. Then he kicked the broken hatch open and ran.

  He'd landed only a mile from the warheads. Rand hugged the shadowed sides of buildings, going zig-zag to prevent interception. He came around to the warhead with the most scaffolding and crouched beneath the nose. Trucks were driving up a ramp into the back of the bomb, full of ketomite. Rand tucked his gun in his pants. He scanned for orbs. None. He scanned for robots. There were several working in the back of the bomb. He waited until one stepped out of sight and raced up the scaffolding. He stood up on top of the giant warhead and walked to the back.

  An empty truck was leaving. A full truck was a good ways off, headed for the ramp. Rand crouched down and waited.

  Gizmoidon was stupid. Rand had psychoanalyzed the monster computer enough to know he was dealing with a spoiled child who held too much power. His orbs would be looking for him at the dome, not the warhead. He had a window—a brief one—to get this mission done.

  Deandred was shoved back to the furthest recesses of his mind. Rand's eyes narrowed...fixed on his objective.

  The truck moved into position. He let his body hang from the rounded edge of the bomb and dropped seven feet onto the cab, lowering and catching himself with his arms to distribute the fall. He leaned over and smashed the driver's window with his gun. Then he blasted the robot. Now, while the truck continued moving toward a cache of ketomite that would obliterate the whole of Rendono, he swung his legs over, kicked out the rest of the window, and pushed himself into the driver's seat, knocking the destroyed robot aside as he did. He slammed on the breaks right before hitting a wall of crated ketomite in front of him.

  Simplistic robots stopped their work and looked at him. None of them had the programming to take action on the situation. Rand drove backwards out of the warhead. The robots outside had more bulk than the wiry black ones piling ketomite inside. They ran toward the truck with their pinchers extended. Rand pointed his gun out the window but the realized none of them had weapons. He screeched into a turn and then drove through a clearing of ruined buildings.

  Gizmoidon didn't even have troops defending his warheads. Rand had assumed some soldier bots would be there. As he drove at 90 miles per hour it occurred to him—he was using the truce as a chance to build the warheads without expending resources on defending them. All he had to do was tuck them in a far away corner of the city—where no delivery trucks would see them. He turned his most threatening saboteur into his High Lord's pet. He had carte blanch to build all the bombs he wanted.


  We were all opening wide for him to stick the gun in our mouths.

  He headed toward the place in the city where he'd seen Deandred's ship come from once before. It was a longer than necessary drive, darting through side roads and maintaining the greatest distance possible from the dome. If an orb saw him the mission would fail. As he predicted, his route was clear. Gizmoidon was too dumb to figure out his plan.

  It didn't take much scouting in the vicinity to find the only building in use. Giant turbines could be heard roaring from far off. The power cell plant had seven of the behemoths housed in massive round cylinders. Each fed into a main complex covered in smoke stacks that spewed thin gray smoke. Rand drove around the periphery until he found the loading area. A steel fence had once guarded it. He saw only a few panels of thick steel left along one edge.

  Of course they salvaged it—the only saboteur who could make it this deep was sitting on Deandred's lap.

  He drove in. A row of three fuel cell trucks were parked by the loading dock. He'd been driving a closed box truck. The fuel trucks had open backs with railings, so that each fuel cell could be seen.

  Rand backed his truck to the loading dock. He exited and shot the door open leading into the back of the building. Rand turned on the lights inside the warehouse area. There were several tubular black robots standing motionless in symmetrical rows. Rand ran in deeper, as fast as his legs would take him. Inside the main building, beneath a giant power conduit, he found what he was looking for: a dozen empty power cell housings. Rand jumped on a forklift and hoisted the pallet of them to the loading dock. He opened the back of his box truck and carried out a crate of ketomite. The opaque white glass fronts of the fuel cells could be slid open. Rand stacked as many of the small crates as he could fit in one and then slid the glass closed. He repeated the process for all twelve cells until the back of his box truck was half empty. Enough ketomite to blow up several city blocks was now contained inside the cells. Rand hotwired a fuel cell truck and backed it to the dock. He used the forklift to carefully load the explosive-filled pallet of fuel cells.

  Now to see if I can complete this mission without killing myself.

  Rand went back into the warehouse area. He stood before the docile robots.