Emperor Mollusk Versus The Sinister Brain

by A. Lee Martinez

  21

  My saucer was unsalvageable, but it was a simple matter to bring in a new one. I had hundreds stationed across Terra for my needs. And thousands of spare exos. Snarg was fine once her batteries were recharged. And Zala’s injuries were easily treatable with a bit of modern medicine.

  A nurse applied a bandage to the cut on Zala’s forehead. “The patch should seal the cut. You might have a scar.”

  Zala was too proud to show weakness. She acknowledged the doctor with a grunt.

  “Thank you, Doctor,” I said. “That will be all.”

  “Yes, Lord Mollusk. Just press the button if you need anything else.” The doctor left the room.

  I stood at the eighth-floor window. My view of Paris was obstructed, but I could see the fires still burning. Sirens filled the night as the Terrans fought the blazes. The damage wasn’t catastrophic. Certainly nowhere near as devastating as the beginnings of the Saturnite invasion. Paris would survive.

  But the flames hypnotized me, and though the view was facing the wrong way, I didn’t have to see the empty space where the Eiffel Tower should have been to be reminded it was missing.

  “What’s wrong with you, Emperor?” asked Zala.

  Snarg, sensing my melancholy, skittered submissively at my feet.

  I stroked her between her antennae.

  “He beat me.”

  “It wasn’t your finest hour, but I’m sure you’ll get over it.”

  “You don’t understand. He won. I lost.”

  “Oh, I understand. I was there.” She stood, tested her arm. It was still tender. “And, yes, you were defeated. Handily.”

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  She beamed. I’d never seen her so happy.

  I turned to her. “I’ve never been beat before.”

  With a dry chuckle, she jumped off the table. “Then answer me this. Why aren’t you Warlord of Venus?”

  “I’ve failed before. Many times before. That’s what comes from taking risks. Even I can’t control all the variables.”

  “It’s always a pleasure to hear you admit that,” she said. “You should do it more often. So if you know you’re fallible then why should you be bothered by this particular defeat? Humiliating as it might have been.”

  “You’re really enjoying this.”

  She tried to wipe the smile off her face, but the best she could do was to lessen it.

  “This is different,” I said. “This feels…different.”

  “Different,” she said. “A bit vague, isn’t that?”

  “The Brain has the anti-time transmission.”

  Zala drew her scimitar and practiced a few swings to see how her arm responded. “He had that before. It didn’t seem to bother you before.”

  “That’s because I assumed I was smarter than him.”

  “Are you saying you’re not so certain now?”

  I didn’t answer, and she lowered her weapon.

  “Emperor, are you telling me you think he might be smarter than you?”

  “I don’t know,” I said softly.

  “This can’t be the first time you’ve considered the possibility there might be someone capable of outwitting you. There are billions of intelligent life-forms in the system. I’m no scientist, but I would think it would seem statistically unlikely you could be smarter than all of them all the time.”

  I stroked Snarg’s antennae. “I’m aware of that. Intellectually.”

  “But now you have indisputable proof. For the first time in your life, you have to admit that someone was smarter than you. No way to deny it, is there?”

  I didn’t answer, which was an answer in itself.

  “I thought you were made of sterner stuff, Emperor.”

  She pushed the smile from her face and joined me at the window.

  “You were beaten. Humiliated. Your defeat was devastating and total. You failed on every level.” She stifled a smirk as she smoothed her feathers. “It happens.”

  “Not to me.”

  She shook her head. “It happens to everyone. So for once, just this once, you were not in charge of your destiny. You weren’t the one making the decisions. You overconfidently blundered into a fight you couldn’t win and learned a hard lesson. No matter how gifted you are, no matter how smart and powerful and capable, you’re going to lose sometimes. You can’t win every battle. Even you, brilliant as you are”—I appreciated that she refrained from using any sarcasm in the word brilliant—“will make mistakes. And, yes, this was a big one.

  “But you’re still alive. You’re still a genius who can build a doomsday device out of wool, coconuts, and cardboard. So maybe the Brain is smarter than you. So what? So what if he handed you a crushing defeat. And I think we can both admit it was crushing.”

  “You’re really enjoying this.”

  “It was almost worth getting killed to watch,” she admitted. “Almost.”

  She said, “Do you want to know why I laughed at the cave, Emperor?” She clasped me on the shoulder and smiled, without malice. With perhaps a smidgeon of genuine affection.

  “You might be an egotistical, megalomaniacal, manipulative criminal. But you don’t back down from a challenge. Even against a foe who might very well be ahead of you every step of the way, you’re still determined to see this through. You can’t walk away. Not from science. Not from mysteries. Not even from this world that you endanger just as often as you save. It’s that character flaw that has led you toward every mistake you’ve ever made. But I realized then that it’s also about the only thing I like about you.

  “You failed, Emperor, walking into a trap created by your own hubris. And maybe that overconfidence was warranted, but your devastating defeat was bound to happen sooner or later. If not this time, then the next. Or the next after that. But if there was one life-form in this universe I never expected to lose confidence in himself, it would be you. And if you just hand that defeat to the Brain, then you’re not the Neptunon I thought you were.

  “Nobody is quite as smart as they think they are. Not even you.”

  Zala left me to my thoughts. As she exited the room, she chuckled to herself.

  “Devastating,” she muttered with a chortle.

  22

  I couldn’t say if Zala’s lecture motivated me or if I would’ve snapped out of my spiritual ennui on my own. It’d be a lie to say my defeat in Paris didn’t weaken my normally invulnerable self-confidence, but I’d never been one to drift on the current. Even when I should’ve known better.

  I’d nearly destroyed Terra as many times as I’d saved it. I assumed there was a better than average chance that one day I would. But that wouldn’t prevent me from exploring the edges of dangerous science. It was a driving compulsion, and I couldn’t pretend to be in control of it.

  The Pluvian philosopher kings had suggested that there was no good or bad. There were only order and chaos, and by the laws of physics, entropy was bound to come out on top. But to not fight against chaos was still the ultimate sin because it was a tacit betrayal of the foundations of all sentient life-forms everywhere. And a universe without life was entirely pointless while a universe with life was only mostly pointless. And in a mostly pointless universe, having to decide whether to wallow in defeat or go forward toward certain defeat, there wasn’t much choice at all.

  Zala had been right. The Brain might be my one unsolvable problem, but one way or another, I had to see it through.

  I passed the next twelve hours modifying and planning for our next encounter. Zala left me to it, and after I was confident enough in my powers of science, we were aboard my saucer, flying toward the sacred city of Shambhala.

  “How do you know they’ll be there?” Zala asked.

  “I don’t,” I replied. “But after acquiring the Eiffel Tower, I can only assume they’re planning on transmitting some sort of signal. And that takes power. Given that the tower is the most powerful transmitter array on Terra, I’m assuming the most powerful power
generator will be next on their list.”

  When she didn’t pose another question, I wasn’t sure how to react.

  “It’s only a wild guess,” I said. “Educated, but with nothing to back it up.”

  She sat back, folded her arms across her chest, and nodded. “Yes, I can see that.”

  “Aren’t you going to use this moment to point out the very likely possibility that I’m wrong?” I asked.

  “Should I?”

  “No, you shouldn’t, but you usually do. Or at least make some passing reference to my arrogance. Or something like that.”

  “Would you like me to?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “Then I won’t.”

  She smiled slightly. Her thoughts were obvious. Though it wasn’t in my nature to dwell on my defeat, my confidence remained shaken. For the first time since…well…forever, I didn’t trust my judgment. I didn’t need Zala to question my competence, but there was a certain ritual we’d developed in the last few days.

  “You don’t have to take it easy on me,” I said.

  “Oh, I’m not.”

  Her smile remained. We both knew what she was doing. Her respectful acceptance of my plan, without challenge, was a reminder of my own fragility in the guise of an act of compassion. It was irritating, and that was precisely the point.

  She glanced at the snowy caps of the Himalayas passing below the saucer. “Why is the generator in such an out of the way place anyway?”

  “The engine taps into a previously unknown form of energy I call molluskotrenic. It’s present across the planet, but is strongest and easiest to tap here.”

  “Doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue, does it?”

  “I discovered it. I get to name it.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Although I didn’t quite discover it,” I said. “Some Terra Sapiens had tapped into the field in the past, using it for basic weather manipulation, life extension, and other things. They used it to found a secret city called Shambhala.”

  “Then shouldn’t it be called shambhalotrenic?” she asked.

  “They didn’t really know what they had,” I replied. “And they would be dead if I hadn’t built the engine and harnessed the power more efficiently. So I think getting to name the thing is a small price to pay. The Shambhalans are a humble people in any case. They don’t care what it’s named as long as they’re free to continue their lives of quiet meditation and philosophy.”

  “They sound delightful,” she said flatly.

  “You’ll probably like them. They follow a strict warrior monk code. They like to talk about honor. A lot. So that’s something you have in common.”

  Shambhala was a radiant green patch in the snowy mountains. The proper city possessed certain qualities of traditional Asian architecture, a cross-section of the various cultures of the region. There were even Western influences, no doubt brought in by wanderers and truth seekers from across the globe. Everything was stone and wood. I’d offered to update their building materials, but the monks refused. They’d chosen an isolated way of life, and as long as the molluskotrenic supported them, they had no reason to look elsewhere.

  The engine stood beside the city.

  “That channels unlimited energy to Terra?” Her skepticism was understandable. The engine didn’t glow. It didn’t shoot bolts of power into the sky. Aside from being a steel construction in a primitive realm of wood and steel, it was unassuming.

  “And then some,” I said. “The source of the energy remains mostly a mystery, even to me, and it isn’t enough in itself. But with it, I was able to build a perpetual-motion machine that generates m-rays that are transmitted across the planet and converted into electricity.”

  “M-rays?” she said.

  “When you discover a new form of radiation, I’ll let you name it.”

  Shambhala had a landing pad just outside the city. We disembarked and were greeted by a bald Terran in an orange robe. He smiled and bowed.

  “Emperor Mollusk, you honor us with your presence.”

  I returned the bow. “Most Illustrious Master of the Ten Sacred Palms, be assured the pleasure is all mine.”

  I quickly introduced Zala and the Illustrious Master. But I skipped the chitchat.

  “I have reason to believe your city is in danger from outside forces,” I said.

  “Shambhala is a place of peace,” he replied. “We offend no one. In a thousand years, no one has set foot in our paradise with violent intent. The gods smile upon Shambhala.”

  “Let’s hope you’re right.”

  The Illustrious Master always smiled, but he smiled a little less. “You have been a great friend to Shambhala. And we would be honored to hear your concerns. Your council has proven a blessing in the past, and I would not easily dismiss them. Apologies if I have offended you in my actions.”

  “And I apologize if the perception of my own offense has offended you, Illustrious Master.”

  We bowed.

  “No apology is necessary,” he replied. “If I have given you the impression that one was required, I sincerely apologize for the error.”

  “And I apologize if the error seems in need of apology.”

  We bowed again.

  Zala stepped between us. “Didn’t you want to take a look around, Emperor? To be sure everything is in order?”

  The Master said, “Of course. How inconsiderate of me. I apologize for my inconsideration.”

  He started to bow, but Zala stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

  “Yes, apologies all around. Apologies for everyone. But we should get on with it.”

  The Master led us through the city streets. Shambhala was a quiet place. It didn’t bustle. The only noise was that of songbirds, children playing, and the unified grunts of dozens of monks practicing martial arts.

  He nodded toward Zala. “Your companion speaks her mind. It is admirable.”

  “Sometimes,” I said.

  Zala slowed as we passed a monk going through the seventeen righteous sword motions. The peculiar weapon favored by the monks had holes in the blade that whistled as the sword sliced through the air.

  “The ancients say enlightenment is found in the song of a blade,” said the Illustrious Master.

  The ancients also said enlightenment could be seen in the green leaves of a cabbage. And heard between the beats of a hummingbird’s wings. And in a thousand and one drops of sweat. And beneath the rock that never moves. And in a thousand other places.

  “I must confess, Emperor Mollusk, that your visit doesn’t come as a surprise to us.”

  “No, I didn’t think it would.”

  I’d noticed the monks gathering around us as we walked through the city. It was hardly subtle. Every person we passed joined us, and soon we were surrounded by several hundred citizens. Men, women, and children of all ages. Their gently smiling faces portrayed no threat beyond their growing numbers.

  Zala must have noticed too, but she didn’t offer comment.

  “You understand that we of the sacred city owe you a great debt, and that when the outsiders came to pervert your technology, we almost considered fighting against them. But, of course, it isn’t our way to raise our fists in violence. For this, I must apologize most sincerely.”

  He stopped and bowed.

  “If your esteemed companion would surrender her weapons to us, it would make things easier.”

  Zala laughed. “If you want my weapons, you’ll have to take them from—”

  A monk’s spinning kick nearly took her head off. She was just quick enough to avoid it. He threw several punches at her. She dodged, smashed him in the nose with her elbow. He collapsed. An elderly woman and a child rushed forward and helped him limp away.

  “I thought these people were pacifists,” said Zala.

  “We are,” answered the Illustrious Master. “But we have been violated most unfortunately.” He bowed and turned his head to show the scar under his right ear. No doubt some sort
of implant was at work here. “Now the skills that have aided us in our quest for inner peace have been perverted, and I can only humbly beg your forgiveness for our actions.”

  Three swordmasters advanced on Zala. She drew the pistol on her hip.

  “Don’t do that,” I said. “You’ll be shooting innocent people.”

  She grunted, put the blaster away, and drew her scimitar.

  One of the swordmasters whirled his weapon in a flashing pattern. “I apologize if my blade prematurely ends your own journey toward enlightenment and only hope you can forgive me in your next life. And should you end mine, I apologize for forcing you to spill—”

  Zala punched him across the jaw, sending him sprawling.

  “You’re forgiven.”

  The Shambhalans, every single one aside from the Illustrious Master, rushed Zala. I lost her in the chaos, but her battle cry came from somewhere in the muddle. She couldn’t win this fight, but she wasn’t going to make it easy on them.

  “Your companion is very stubborn,” observed the Master. “But as the ancients say, enlightenment can be found in the unwinnable battle.”

  “It seems you can find it anywhere,” I replied.

  “Ah, so continues your own journey.”

  I left Zala to fight her own quest for enlightenment in her own way. The Master led me to the temple at the center of the city. I wasn’t surprised to see the Brain, in a seven-foot exo, standing on its steps.

  “So good of you to join us, Emperor. Where is the Venusian?”

  “I’m afraid her path to enlightenment may involve some bruising,” said the Master.

  “No matter,” said the Brain. “I’ll take it from here. After you’ve subdued the Venusian, bring her along.”

  The Illustrious Master bowed.

  “Where is it?” I asked. “Where’s the tower?”

  The Brain pointed behind me. The air shimmered as he deactivated the stealth field that hid the Eiffel Tower standing beside the molluskotrenic engine.

  “No doubt you have many questions, Emperor, and we will answer them in good time. But we have a few minutes before everything is in final preparation, and it’s about time we get the formal introductions out of the way. We’ve been waiting to meet you, face-to-face, for far too long.”