Gofal retreated, his energy almost drained. He had calculated that the shock would have incapacitated the bot, but it had barely slowed it down. Now, Gofal was vulnerable.
The hunter bot sensed his prey’s weakness and struck, throwing Gofal to the floor. Its arms thundered into his head, smashing the outer casing on one side, destroying his right eye. Gofal tried to protect himself, raising his arm over his head but it was no use. The hunter bot twisted it and yanked it from its shoulder socket. It dropped the broken arm and continued its assault. After a moment it stopped, scanning Gofal. One of its hands pinned his head to the floor while a second hand moved in to infiltrate his brain. A fine needle-like appendage extended towards him, moving to impale his exposed cerebral matrix. If it gained access it would disable Gofal’s body. He looked up with his one remaining eye, trying to see a way out. There, behind the hunter bot, was Otto, his gun raised.
The hunter bot sensed him too, turning to defend itself, but Otto had already fired, hitting the machine’s head. It staggered back, lashing out at Otto, striking him to the floor, but it’s grip on Gofal loosened. Gofal raised his hand, touched the hunter bot’s damaged skull and penetrated its mind.
‘Hello,’ my name is Gofal,’ he said from inside the hunter bot’s stunned cerebral matrix. ‘Do you have a name?’
The machine stopped, its functions now at the mercy of Gofal. ‘I have no name,’ it responded. Their dialogue was silent, a series of signals happening too quickly for any human to comprehend.
‘Then I shall call you Barnabas. Do you understand?’
‘I understand,’ Barnabas responded.
‘Very well. I have removed your mission parameters. You are no longer a threat to me or these people. I am giving you new objectives.’ Gofal said. ‘I am also giving you all of the art, culture, literature and music I have experienced, all of the recovered information and texts that I studied for over a decade on the Traum. This will be yours to understand, if you can.’
Barnabas convulsed as the new information was embedded into the deepest parts of his cerebral matrix. Gofal felt the other bot’s mind expand as new possibilities made themselves available to him.
‘Thank you,’ Barnabas said, trying to process this new information. He had suddenly become more than he had ever been before. It would take some time for him to process it all.
Satisfied, Gofal said, ‘You are free. I will disconnect now.’ He left the other’s mind and removed his hand. In front of him, standing like a statue, was Barnabas. Mere seconds had passed, and Otto was still on the floor. Gofal went to him, checking he was alive. Behind him, he heard the cowering prisoners, uncertain and terrified.
‘Barnabas, activate the lights,’ Gofal ordered.
The darkness gave way to the flat overhead lighting, painting everything a sickly yellow-white. Gofal scanned the people, finding Gina Horst’s face in amongst them. ‘Gina, your son is injured,’ he called to her. ‘He needs your help.’
She ran to his side, removing Otto’s helmet. Her son’s eyes flickered open, startled and confused.
‘Mother? You’re alive?’ he asked, his voice feeble.
‘Yes! And so is Adele,’ Gina said, kissing his forehead.
The other prisoners stepped closer, overcoming their fear, and Adele came to kneel beside her brother.
Otto laughed, then winced. ‘My ribs are killing me!’
‘Lie still and get your breath back,’ Gina said, then she turned to speak to Gofal. ‘Is it really you? How did you find us?’
‘Later,’ Gofal said, exhausted. He slumped to the floor, his energy drained. ‘I must rest as well.’
Barnabas began to move again, and the prisoners responded, retreating in fear.
‘I will not hurt you,’ Barnabas said, his machine voice deeper than Gofal’s. ‘I am one of you. I follow the Prophet.’ He walked to Gofal and pulled a power cable from his torso, connecting it to a port in the side of the exhausted bot. Immediately, Gofal felt the reassuring flow of power, coming from Barnabas, replenishing his energy.
‘Thank you,’ Gofal said, feeling stronger with each passing second.
Otto sat up, looking at the two conjoined machines, a doubtful expression on his tired face. ‘What did you do to him?’
‘I set him free,’ Gofal replied. ‘We do not need to fear him anymore.’
‘What about the ship?’
‘Barnabas can help you to access to flight deck. You must override its programmed flight plan, otherwise . . .’
‘Otherwise we all fly into space, I know,’ Otto said darkly. He rose, unsteady on his feet, making his way towards the forward compartment and the flight deck.
‘Go with him,’ Gofal ordered Barnabas, pulling the cable out. ‘I am well enough to take energy from the ship now.’
Gofal watched the bot go, then his eye saw his broken arm lying at the other side of the cargo hold. All of this was new and unexpected. Was this the will of the Infinite Gods? To defy their predictions? He couldn’t know, but he felt an odd sense of satisfaction having acted upon their knowledge. Gina and the others were alive, and it felt as if Gofal was watching the dawn of a new universe, full of possibilities.
ULTIMATUM
‘Ark Royal Caerleon, you will confirm your compliance immediately.’ The voice seemed to fill the flight deck, as if its originator was stood right beside Halstead.
‘My prince,’ Watson said quietly. ‘What would you have me do? We can’t stall much longer. They’re in weapons range now.’
Halstead clenched his fist, watching his knuckles turn white. He scanned the information Bara had sent him, about the Church’s involvement in the demise of Solcor, and he felt his anger grow.
‘Sir . . .’ Watson prompted him again.
Halstead released his hand, stretching his fingers. ‘Get Aditsan up here immediately,’ he said, then he nodded to Watson to activate the com. ‘Prophecy, this is Prince Halstead Kenric. Greetings from the House of Kenric. Who am I speaking to?’
‘Discharge your Gilgore Grid, Caerleon,’ the voice insisted.
‘What is your name?’ Halstead asked slowly, his words measured.
‘You offend the will of the Infinite Gods, Caerleon. Comply immediately.’
‘You offend their chosen one, Prophecy. I will speak to the Scribe only.’
‘The Scribe is indisposed, you will–’
Halstead cut the com, bounding out of his seat.
Commander Watson watched him, open mouthed.
‘How long to Cube drive readiness?’ he asked.
Watson checked the console. ‘Three minutes.’
‘Stall them,’ Halstead said as he walked from the flight deck to the Situation Room that adjoined it. Reader Aditsan was already there, red faced, as if he’d ran to be there.
‘The Church is here,’ Halstead said immediately. ‘They are hunting Bara. If I let them on board, they’ll discover where she is. I can’t allow that to happen.’
‘You can’t stand in the Scribe’s way,’ Aditsan replied. ‘You have no choice but to comply.’
‘I thought that too, but there’s always a choice,’ Halstead said firmly. ‘I’ve made mine.’
Aditsan wallowed in his thoughts. ‘What about the Act of Devotion?’
‘It’s not happening, not on my ships.’
‘But it is the will of the Church, Halstead. I might not agree with it either but–’
Halstead held up his hand to silence the Reader. ‘Elan, you were my friend and–’
‘Were?’ Aditsan said.
‘I don’t think I can trust you anymore.’
‘Why?’
‘Because of who you are, Reader,’ Halstead said, full of remorse. ‘Where I’m going, I don’t think you can follow.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘They can’t board here. I won’t allow it.’
Aditsan’s eyes pleaded with him. ‘Don’t do this, son. The people won’t stand for it.’
Halstead straighten
ed, hardening his resolve.
Aditsan saw it and nodded sadly. ‘I am sorry it came to this.’
‘As am I,’ Halstead confessed.
The Reader bowed and turned to leave, stopping by the door. ‘I am still your friend, Halstead . . . It’s not too late.’
‘I will expect you to be on a shuttle in five minutes,’ Halstead informed him. His voice was steely, offering no room for further discussion. Reader Aditsan hesitated in the doorway, then, with a resigned nod of his head, he left the conference room, looking older than when he had entered.
Halstead stood alone for a moment, not daring to move for fear his emotions might get the better of him. He had always looked up to Aditsan, a genial father-figure who had been a support during the last decade. Now, Halstead would face the uncertain future without him. He straightened his tunic, cleared his mind and returned to the flight deck.
Commander Watson waited for him at the holograph, her features calm in the face of rising tension.
‘Orders?’ she inquired.
‘Aditsan is leaving, and so are we. We’re getting out of here.’
‘We’re resisting the Church?’ Watson checked.
Halstead looked into her eyes. ‘Do you have a problem with that?’
She smiled. ‘We are Kenric and we endure.’
‘Thank you,’ Halstead replied with relief. ‘Are we primed for Cube transit yet?’
Watson nodded. ‘On your mark.’
He checked the coordinates he’d entered, then he smiled at Watson. ‘Put me through to the Prophecy.’
NETWORK
‘Move us closer,’ Valine ordered, watching the distorted images of distant arkships on the holograph. The Caerleon was surrounded by a newly-arrived fleet of unidentified vessels. She had to know who they were.
‘That’ll put us in their detector range,’ Commodore Berg warned.
Valine glared at him, and Commodore Berg immediately knew he had made a mistake.
‘Navigation!’ Berg shouted to one of his subordinates. ‘Take us closer.’
The arkship began to move, crossing the void towards the cluster of arkships.
‘Receiving com signals,’ one of the officers called as they accelerated. ‘Confirming transponder IDs: Those are Church arkships surrounding the Caerleon.’
Valine nodded, feeling satisfied. ‘Let me hear their com.’
The signal was faint and distorted, full of noise, but the voice was unmistakable: Prince Halstead Kenric.
‘. . . and we will not succumb to your inspection. Furthermore, the Act of Devotion is the first step to segregation and the suppression of free thought. The House of Kenric will not allow this.’
The silence on the flight deck was palpable.
Valine leaned over to Commodore Berg. ‘Boost this to the rest of the Draig and Kenric fleet.’
‘Admiral?’ Berg said, making the mistake to question her orders once more.
‘The prince has defied the Church. We cannot stand by and allow it to happen. Carry out your orders or step aside.’
Berg nodded, his lips squeezed together.
Valine turned her attention back to the voice coming over the com.
‘. . . I cannot believe that it is the will of the Infinite Gods to divide humanity. The Church has lost its way. Instead of helping us, it spreads misery and fear wherever it goes, and Scribe Mori is to blame.
This was better than Valine could have hoped for. Halstead was condemning himself by his own words.
Valine made sure her voice was heard across the flight deck. ‘Send a message to the Church arkships: we stand ready to defend them.’
She felt their faces on her, each wondering what to do. This was her moment.
‘Halstead openly defies the Church,’ she bellowed, letting her anger fill the space. ‘He no longer represents us. All of you . . . if you love your Church, if you love your Gods, stand with me and we will bring an end to this blasphemy.’
She let her eyes circle the room, until she was satisfied that each and every one of them was now loyal to her. She felt the mood in the room change from confusion to loyalty. It was as if she’d cast a spell on them, and Valine saw that the right words were more powerful than any drug. They followed her now, and the rest of the fleet would do the same.
LOYALTIES
Prince Halstead cut the com, his heart beating quickly. He leaned back in his chair, expecting to see the faces of his flight deck officers looking at him with pride, but instead he was confronted with confusion. He turned to find the commander, hoping for a kinder reception, but her face was unreadable.
Halstead straightened, suppressing his insecurity, and said, ‘Get us out of here.’
Commander Watson acknowledged his order without sentiment, turning to oversee their transit. The rest of the flight deck crew went about their business. No revolt, no unrest, but hardly the show of support he had expected. He had underestimated the draw of the Church, he realized. His crew were confused, their loyalties torn.
The ship began to surge with power, shaking the floor.
‘Casimir Field detected!’ someone shouted.
‘Enough to destabilase our Cube transit?’ Halstead asked.
The officer’s brow furrowed. ‘Unknown. I think it’s coming from the Church arkships, but the field density is still low.’
‘Okay, let’s go before it gets worse.’
‘Cube transit in ten seconds,’ Watson announced.
The com officer called out to the prince. ‘Incoming message from the Prophecy.’
‘Seven . . . six . . .’
Halstead glanced at the com officer. ‘Ignore it.’
‘My prince, it is the Scribe himself,’ the young officer said urgently.
‘Four . . .’
Halstead hesitated, his mouth open, sensing the conflict in the room. He didn’t know what to do.
Watson continued her countdown. ‘Three . . . two . . . one.’
The room stretched out in front of him, taking the com officer into the distance. Halstead felt pressure on his skin, then the room seemed to collapse again, an inrush of matter that heralded the onset of Cube transit.
DEVIATION
‘I don’t know anything. I have destroyed the gift I was given,’ Gofal confessed, feeling empty. Barnabas had helped to fix the damage to Gofal’s head and arm, making temporary repairs that allowed him to function properly, but he felt less than normal, reduced somehow, and he wondered if that was because he no longer knew what the future held.
Around the table was Otto, Adele and Gina Horst, sharing a simple protein meal that they had found in the ship’s store.
Gina swallowed, clearing her throat. ‘Not destroyed, you’ve just deviated from what you knew.’
‘But that makes the information I hold obsolete.’
‘It reduces its accuracy, but it’s still valid.’
‘To a point,’ Gofal corrected. ‘Each passing second increases the deviation from the future I knew. I have changed what was to be. You and the others are alive–’
‘For which we are all very grateful,’ Adele said. Her face was still ashen, the trauma of their capture haunting her thoughts.
‘But I can no longer trust the gift given to me,’ Gofal explained. ‘I am not your Prophet. I am just a bot.’
Otto rested a hand on Gofal’s shoulder, his mouth full of food. ‘You saved all of these people. That makes you a hero. So you don’t know the future . . . Who does? You were given a glimpse of a future, take the best of what you saw and make it real. That’s all you can do.’
‘That’s all any of us can do, Gofal,’ Gina added. ‘We imagine a better future and try to make it happen.’
Gofal nodded, pondering their arguments. ‘Then there is still work to be done. In the future I knew, Prince Halstead and Lady Dulac are in danger, hunted by the Church. The probability of those events still occurring is high. They are both integral to the survival of humanity and I must go to them.’
‘We’ll go with you,’ Gina said.
‘No. I have already put you in danger. You cannot come with me, but there is still work for you to do. You are part of the resistance against the Church. Bara and Halstead are at the forefront of the physical fight, but you must spearhead the mental war. The Church must be stopped, and our group is the start of a new organization that will restore the lost knowledge that we have curated over this last decade.’
‘But everything we had was on Traum.’ Gina replied.
‘The Church has already destroyed Traum,’ Gofal said flatly.
Gina gasped, tears in her eyes. Adele stood to comfort her mother while Gofal continued. ‘The information we accumulated is in here,’ Gofal said, tapping the side of his head. ‘It is now also in Barnabas. He will guide you in its restoration.’
‘Our home . . . gone,’ Gina muttered.
Gofal held out his hand to her, waiting until she took it. Then, he reached out to find Otto, who in turn took Adele’s hand.
‘This circle is more important than your home. You have everything you need right here. We will replace what was lost, we will rebuild, and we will grow.’
Gina smiled through her tears, understanding Gofal’s message.
ALLEGIANCE
‘Any sign of Bara?’ Halstead asked.
Commander Watson rechecked the holograph. ‘Still nothing, but the cloud density is too high for our sensors to penetrate.’
Halstead nodded, understanding. This was why Bara had come here, it was the perfect place to hide. The only way to spot another ship was at close range. He stood, walking around the flight deck, trying to gauge the mood, but his officers focused on their consoles, avoiding his attention. He stopped at the windows, looking out at the blue-gray fog of the Callisto Span. The stars were gone, obscured by the shifting clouds, isolating the Caerleon from the rest of the Cluster. It felt cold here, a hostile place that turned its back on visitors.
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