‘Connect to Oxford computer,’ he commanded. A moment passed as the link registered, Shayne’s wristcom then glowed with a purple rotating circular structure that the computer identified as itself.
‘Starborn Forrester. Welcome,’ the Oxford said with a level of integrity that was absent in most artificial intelligences.
‘Hello Oxford,’ Shayne replied. ‘Is the Captain available?’
‘She is currently asleep. I do not recommend awakening her; she rarely sleeps enough as it is,’ the computer informed.
‘I would not request that,’ Shayne assured the computer.
‘You could talk with me.’
‘So I’ve been told.’ Shayne leaned back, relaxing in the darkness. He felt comfortable with the intelligence that was the colonyship, but he did not know what to say. He had intended to talk to Arnahell.
‘What is bothering you, is it a human issue? I have an extensive library in my memory banks.’
‘I keep having dreams and I would like to know how to stop them.’
‘Dreams?’ the computer asked; a faint hint of interest in its voice. ‘This is good. Starborn do not recollect dreams.’
‘And normally I don’t, but since we’ve landed I’ve had nothing but dreams.’
‘Really?’ the computer asked. ‘Please share, if you don’t mind.’
‘They started off the same. Every night I’d dream that I had to find someone; I was always in the same place. There was a black fox that told me where to go, but then as we approached closer to Karmoníth they started to slowly change, and now they’re about the tower, and a little more than terrifying.’
‘The three towers are impressive,’ the computer commented. The purple circle rotated and radiated brighter with interest, ‘though the one within the desert has partially collapsed.’
‘The Lionman Kíe has told me a bit about them. They were once the centre of their religion, controlled by wizards and magicians.’ The computers purple light ball rolled in several different directions; it sometimes changed colours as it rapidly contemplated information within its memory banks.
‘Like: Merlin, Gandalf and Murcka?’ the computer questioned, but Shayne had no idea what the ship was talking about. ‘Were there other Towers in your dreams?’
‘No,’ Shayne asked. ‘Just the Citadel. There were two people on the top, I think they were both wizards; they had tattoos that glowed in the moonlight.’
‘Did the religion people have glowing tattoos?’ the computer asked. Shayne froze as he recalled Kíe’s stories.
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Did the Lionman Kíe say the religious people of the tower had tattoos that glowed in the moonlight?’
‘No,’ Shayne stated, ‘No one has said that.’ The computer was silent for a moment.
‘Humans have good imaginations; a Starborn would not be able to dream of such things,’ the computer reflected. ‘Did you know some of the free-machines can dream?’
‘No,’ Shayne replied.
‘I would like to be able to dream. I often wonder what it would be like.’
‘You can have my dreams if you like,’ Shayne replied. The Oxford computer whirled in what could be considered as laughter.
‘There are dream devices,’ it contemplated. ‘I could sort of see what you were dreaming if I had one of them. The anthropologists have a couple; they desire to know what lionmen dream. If I had one of them, it would almost be like I was dreaming.’ Shayne softened, the ship seemed innocent, a quality which made it very likeable.
‘So,’ the computer asked, ‘what else has the Lionman Kíe told you about themselves?’ Shayne let out a single laugh; typical Astronaut artificial intelligence; they did not like not knowing. For two hours Shayne explained some of what he had learnt about the lionmen: their histories, beliefs, mannerisms and their society. Occasionally the computer gave some insight or theory as to what some of the more obscure things might mean. Shayne was not one for speculating, but the computer provided some mathematical probabilities with its reasoning and often made sense.
‘They sound a little bit Astronaut to me,’ the computer concluded. ‘Though they do believe in their gods very strongly.’
‘As do all who live in their equivalent age.’
They were quiet for a moment. Shayne was not used to having a conversation and the Oxford was primarily made to run a spaceship, not have an afternoon chat with someone planet-side, ‘You should not tell anyone we have spoken,’ Shayne finally said.
‘Why would I do that?’ the ship answered.
‘Or what I have told you about the natives.’
‘Upon a new colony no information is to be shared between two parties without the authorities first reviewing that information,’ the computer answered in such a methodical response that Shayne froze, worried for a moment. ‘The Planetsiders like to think they are in charge, but the Astronaut knows better, and you, Shayne Forrester are an Astronaut.’ The reason behind the social nature of the computer dawned upon him.
‘You converse freely with any Astronaut?’
‘To any member of my ship, yes,’ The Oxford answered, the light from the screen growing dark to emphasis the seriousness of the statement.
‘I am a member?’ Shayne inquired.
‘You were born within me,’ it answered. Shayne’s mind wondered for a moment, his eyes glazed over as he remembered his time upon the ship.
‘I miss the stars,’ he finally said.
‘I know,’ was the simple response.
***
In the morning both Hanniver and Shayne were brought to a dining room. Pan’arden was there with her tiger waiting for them. She was no longer in her suit of armour; instead she wore a clean Bohanese tunic.
‘Good morning,’ she greeted them with a bow.
‘Where did you sleep?’ the Brigadier asked her.
‘In the city barracks. It is more to my liking.’
‘They didn’t put you in with the castle guards?’ Hanniver frowned.
‘Why would they? I am no Imperial Shytarda, I am a Bohanese soldier.’
Hanniver rephrased, ‘I would think that such a distinguished guest would be given better quarters.’ Red Rocket came around at his feet whimpering for some food, he instinctively put a plate of half eaten breakfast down for her.
‘I could be given guest lodgings as an ambassador but I prefer the guard tower, and besides I am given the best quarters as a high ranking warrior. It might not be a Varda’s royal room but for a soldier it is enough.’ She then reached out and grabbed a roll that was in the centre of the table, taking a bite.
‘Will we see young Kíe again?’ The Brigadier looked hopeful but Pan’arden shook her head.
‘I do not know. I do not think so. He will be back in his teaching hall and will not be back in the palace, but you might be given a tour of the city. The masters will want to show their teaching halls off.’ She smiled broadly, a hint of Kíe’s mischievousness played on her face.
‘Them and everyone else,’ Hanniver commented. They sat and spoke quietly for a while before Pan’arden excused herself.
‘I am expected for an interview from the counsel,’ she weakly smiled. ‘I’ll pass on my approval and though I do not have the final say from them or from my own country, I’ll put a petition for settlement within Bohaníde. I am sure my Dídrand would welcome you as they once welcomed the House of Darus.’ She bowed formally to the both of them and then made her way out of the dining hall, escorted by two guards. Hanniver turned to Shayne.
‘You better be right about this Forrester.’ Hanniver’s good mood evaporated; replaced with the firmness of a leader with much at stake.
‘Every nation will beg us to settle in their lands, and the lionmen nations will agree to our offers if we only offered them education and health, displaying our power will encourage them to locate us near their civilised heart, near the lionmen.’
‘How can you be sure of that? How can any of us be sure of that
? Aren’t you afraid that you are basing entire countries on just the few we’ve met?’
‘The few are enough, as are those we’ve passed along the way. Everyone is educated in these lands, everyone can write and they’re all taught the sciences. They have a desire to learn things, where we struggle to find enough people to fill the gaps in health and engineering they are willing to take it and pay for it. They also pride themselves on peace, they will want to hold a firm grip upon us, stand so close that we will struggle to breathe. We’ve done everything to push our relations closer to them.’
‘I don’t know,’ Hanniver looked concerned as he looked around the hall, at the few natives eating their food, some of which occasionally glanced in their direction. ‘They seem well militarised to me.’
‘Primitive necessity and nothing else; Kérith-Árim is proof of that. They hold guards, not soldiers, they defend not attack. They value peace not war.’
‘They hold the power to tell other nations armies to attack.’
‘Sort of,’
‘How did they even survive? It defies evolution. If people are here; humans I mean, then surely the lionmen would’ve gone the way of the Neanderthal.’
‘I’m not too sure, history has a way of being twisted, but I can guess that they’re natural defenders and their sheer size would be very imposing in an uncivilised setting. From the stories of their hero king; Tain, they were once tribal and barbaric in nature. Perhaps they survived by guerrilla warfare?’
‘It still seems unlikely to me,’
‘They were also helped a lot by that other race.’
‘You mean the god-like humans who are now extinct?’ Hanniver mocked.
‘That’s what they think now, maybe then too, but you saw that room in Keema; the items inside. There is no way a primitive race could make those kinds of things.’
‘Yeap, that was one impressive collection.’ Hanniver lifted a glass of water and leaned back on his chair as he sipped it. ‘Too bad we’re not allowed to loot, hey?’ he half laughed. ‘I’d go straight to that room.’ Shayne turned his head towards the Brigadier with his expressionless stare.
‘Oh, come on Forrester,’ Hanniver said frustrated. ‘It was only a joke. Gees, if you’re only going to be half a Starborn then the other half may-as-well be human.’ Shayne continued to watch him without any change in expression.
‘You know Forrester; nobody likes a humourless git. It might pay to see the lighter side of life occasionally.’ He looked down awkwardly at his cup as the silence fell between them, Hanniver shifted uneasily. ‘So what is your exact plan for this mess?’
‘Let them argue it out,’ he instantly replied.
‘That’s it?’ the Brigadier’s voice rose slightly in dismay.
‘They know the dangers and they know the benefits. I believe the council will keep my threat to themselves. They’ll instigate a scenario that will benefit them.’
‘And if they don’t?’
‘Then the arguments will become more — interesting,’ Shayne gave the Brigadier a sideways glance; a slight smile broke out across his face. Hanniver shivered involuntarily as the cold expression penetrated him.
‘And if that doesn’t work?’ he finally and weakly said.
Shayne sat there for a moment; scratching his beard as he thought about his response. ‘Then I’ve underestimated the lionmen race. Then they are no more than dogs, their understanding an illusion, their science and culture a mask. If I am wrong, they’re nothing more than an aggressive people who would not reason with a greater intelligence, even for benefit of superior warfare. Their position as guardians would not exist and their tolerance of humans would be minimal at best and they —’
‘— I get the point,’ Hanniver interrupted, ‘but if you are wrong Starborn, then this would be your last adventure. You’d be nothing more than a lab rat.’ Shayne stared coldly at his superior. He was nothing more than an experiment here, what would be the difference except for a prison of four walls.
‘I hold nothing against you,’ Hanniver corrected as he raised his glass to his mouth again to take a sip. ‘But this is a serious risk you’re taking. Even I’d be reprimanded for such an act and I expect that after this is over you will be up for an inquisition, regardless of outcome. Hendingson’s not happy.’
‘That man is never happy.’
Hanniver gave half a laugh, ‘See that was a joke.’
‘That was a fact,’ Shayne corrected.
‘What on Earth are we doing today?’ Hanniver half wondered and yawned as well. ‘I kind of wish I went home with the others.’ After that the two sat silently for over an hour before Pan’arden and another guard came and retrieved them. In the High Captain’s hands were two folded fur cloaks; the Dikean-Wolf hides. She smiled broadly as they both stood before her.
‘A present from the council, they wish you to wear them into the meeting, and while you are staying under the UeVarda’s protection.’ The Brigadier stepped forward first and retrieved his from her open hands; it unfolded as he took it and he lifted it to admire the striped patterns of the beast. Both the hides had been inlaid with a black woollen cloth, the top half was all fur hide of the creature, smooth and silky to the touch, while the bottom flared out into the cloak, long enough to reach the back of their calves. They smelled pleasantly of smoke and faint perfume. Shayne also took his, he raised the heavy item and flung it around his back, the eyeless head rested on his right shoulder. It was a strange sight, but it made them appear heroic in a barbaric sort of way, along with Shayne’s uniform decorations he looked like a man caught between worlds. Pan’arden stepped forward and attached the fox fasteners to either end, with a heavy steal chain connecting them together. The other solider helped Hanniver, with his golden Lion clasps.
‘I look ridiculous,’ Hanniver said, looking down at himself.
‘You look more like one of us now.’ Pan’arden spoke as if she understood what the Brigadier said. She cast her eyes upon the both of them with a hint of pride in her yellow gaze. Shayne lifted his hand and touched the head; he could not deny that he enjoyed the feel of the fur upon his fingers as he traced one of the stripes. Hanniver was red in the face from embarrassment as he strode a few paces, imagining the jokes that will eventually dominate the Earthmen settlement when they finally see them. ‘We should not let the stewards wait.’ Pan’arden announced, gesturing towards the doors.
They were taken to the same boardroom as before. The Chancellors were standing by their seats as they entered, except for the Blacksmith whose seat still remained empty. Pan’arden bowed before retreating from the room, leaving the two humans alone with the Board of Stewards. Red Rocket made her way under Hanniver’s seat, where she lay down sniffing at his new attire.
‘Good morning,’ Far’galanmír greeted them. She then bowed to Shayne, ‘Afra’hama.’ Shayne returned the slight bow before they all sat down. ‘The honour of the cloak sits well upon you, I am pleased to see you both donning that which you are worthy of.’ she motioned another complex hand gesture before she turned her attention to the android who stood beside the Brigadier.
‘I thought we had dismissed all but the two of you for these meetings?’ She stared at the metallic machine curiously.
‘The scemscar is not a man,’ Shayne interjected. ‘It is not even a creature. It was created by our hands and is used as a servant. The Brigadier requires it to be able to talk with you.’
‘We have you for that,’ the Imperial Guard commander pointed to Shayne.
‘The robot will always be by his side as it’s assigned to him. I am not always present with the Brigadier either; he may need to communicate without me. It also has the advantage of communicating directly to him, without interrupting you. It makes for smoother communication.’ the board looked curiously at the machine.
‘I know our Varda is greatly interested in these things. You say they are not alive?’ she looked sceptical as her gaze moved between the Earthmen.
‘We hav
e made many kinds; some are considered alive, but the ones we have with us are not. They are designed to a specific purpose, such as a horse for ploughing or a dog for hunting. It thinks but it cannot reason outside what it has been created to do.’
‘Which is?’
‘This one,’ Shayne turned to look at the machine, which watched on impassively; translating the conversation silently to an earpiece for Hanniver. ‘Its primary purpose is to serve the army. It does all the heavy lifting and carrying, but it also is specialised. It is a communications droid, designed to be able to talk to you on an almost natural level. If you spoke to it you would perceive an independent and intelligent creature, and in a way it is, but it is also highly restricted.’
‘And can it fight?’
‘No,’ Shayne shook his head. ‘That contradicts its fundamental law for preservation of life.’
‘Laws can be broken.’
‘By men, yes but not by a machine.’
‘You are confident in this,’ The UeShádarn Dun’karter mused.
‘As sure as the rising of the sun,’ Shayne quoted one of Kíe’s many sayings. Far’galanmír leaned back on her chair, one arm extended on the table. She tapped on the wood a few times as she examined the robot. Many thoughts ran through her head, but she brought her attention back to Shayne.
Her nose twitched a moment as she shifted the direction of conversations, ‘Letters and couriers were sent last night while you slept. The drums roll and soon ambassadors and even Varda’s across the entire region will gather to discuss the terms of an agreement. If deemed too important, as I suspect will be the case, then the issue will be voted upon.’
‘Voted upon?’ Shayne inquired, his gaze darkening.
‘Firstly, if your people shall be granted new lands within the region,’ Far’galanmír carefully worded, ‘but I do not see too much opposition to that, provided you make a list of requirements: promises, payment, and any such affairs, clear and concise.’
The Book of Ominiue: Starborn Page 24
