The journey, which over space would have taken at least one month, took one day. In that time Archeon decided that he didn’t like the socioassassin, and Orpal gleaned from the socioassassin’s files just what part the assassin had to play in the extermination of the Lore, from the very first assassination, to the imitation of Um’lael Sabreme and his raising of the enlightened army of the disaffected student masses.
Kyle drank himself into a stupor and relieved Habla’saem of the last of his stum reserves. He also ate. He found he was ravenous.
The space was cramped, but twelve hours before they were due to arrive, knowing that their ship would be allowed to pass into Huna’s space, Kyle closed his eyes and slept the sleep of angels.
*
Huna
Orpal reached Huna and entered the docking bay. The white hole had little effect on the underside of Huna. It was taken over with docking bays. There was room for ships of all kinds and all castes to dock, but Habla’saem’s shell ship chose to dock in the same place it had before. The shell ship of Habla’saem was known and allowed through the barrier without question.
“That settles it then, you traitor.”
“I am no traitor, I have no allegiance. How can I be a traitor?”
They would have to leave him behind.
“Kyle, Archeon, I think you will have to split up. Kyle, see if you can find Cetee. Archeon, do your thing.”
“I want to attack from here. I am ready now.” Archeon’s voice boomed in the cramped interior.
“No” said Kyle firmly. “Cetee may still be aboard, there is no way you can attack before we are sure where she is. We need her. I need her,” he added as an afterthought.
“But Cetee betrayed us and destroyed Orpal. How can you even consider going back to her?” asked Archeon.
“Because I think I love her. Now Archeon, be careful. Remember we are in Huna. Remember the triumvirate must show you how to use the emitter first.”
“There was no betrayal. What you thought was betrayal was brought about by Habla’saem. The blame does not lie with Cetee. Forgive her now and forget, Kyle,” said Orpal.
Kyle took on a thoughtful look. He didn’t say anything but the curve of his lips turned upward.
Archeon picked up the assembled pieces of the emitter. “How do we use this?”
“The trinity are ancients. They will know,” Orpal told him.
“I’ll ask them before I destroy them. I will take the archeofact to them. Kyle, you see if you can find Cetee.”
*
They split up. Huna was quiet, thankfully, the bulk of the Ecentrists forces having been sent to fight the war.
Kyle stood at the gate of a lower octomant, leading to the cells. Getting there had been easy. He had travelled the short distance unmolested, and guided by Orpal, who could still manage to communicate with the hunter.
Archeon had gone to the west, leaving Kyle to his own devices.
Archeon would have to destroy the triumvirate to save the Lore from annihilation, but he needed them first to tell him how to use the emitter. Evolution could not happen without it and all Orpal had fought for would be for nought.
Kyle needed to find Cetee. It was a deep need. Like the need to breathe or eat. It surprised him with its intensity. He had thought he would feel anger at Cetee, but Orpal had told him of Habla’saem’s duplicity and now all he wanted was to feel Cetee in his arms again. If she even lived.
The last thought was like a knife in his ribs.
“Orpal, which way?” he asked.
“Where are you?” replied Orpal. Kyle smiled. Orpal certainly wasn’t half the man he used to be.
“I’m at a great gate. It’s the size of an Ulithian Barge. I can’t see a keyhole but no matter how hard I push they don’t budge. I don’t think somehow these were designed with mere mortals in mind.”
Orpal was quiet for a while while he thought and examined the plans of the ship. It took far longer than it would have ordinarily, but then, thought Kyle, perhaps it was fate, god’s plan, that Orpal fall from grace. After all, had he still been in his last incarnation they never would have gotten aboard Huna.
“You’ll find an access tunnel to your right. That will take you down to the hold, the prison cells where you were held before. You must be at the gates. Hurry now, Archeon will be in place soon.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, go now.”
“OK,” replied Kyle.
Kyle ran down the access tunnel, which sloped downward. He passed numerous offshoots on the way down, until he eventually came to a locked door where he could go no further. He thought about what he would do to the Ecentrist bots if Cetee had been harmed and blasted a hole clean through the door. He was finally getting the hang of the genogun.
“That’s more like it!” said the gun.
He kicked the door clean off its hinges.
As he reached the entrance to the prison sector the Ecentrists finally figured out that they had an intruder.
Archeon spoke to Kyle through radio comset. “Kyle, expect some company. I’ve found the triumvirate and they’re not too happy.”
“Hold them up until I can find Cetee.” Kyle replied. He ran on with increased urgency. Archeon fell to silence.
Kyle opened a door in the prison sector. In the first cell he found a pachenda. They had evolved in deserts, had no saliva, no way of cooling down. No water loss. They were a very efficient race – the gastric juices from their prey was held in a neck sac, used to gargle with and clean teeth.
This pachenda didn’t look very resourceful. They were an unattractive race. Kyle left it where it was chained to the wall. He couldn’t save everything, so he resolved to find Cetee instead. As soon as possible.
He had to leave it behind. He had no choice. The thought galled as he left the door open behind him. Perhaps it could use its acids to break free.
Kyle started to run again. There were so many cells to search.
He searched more than thirty cells, finding a varied assortment of captives along the way. Each cell door he left open, and where a beast and in some cases bots found themselves free they ran out of their holding cells. In all the time he spent searching he heard nothing from Archeon or Orpal, but he kept on regardless. There were no inquisitors or missionaries. Apart from the strange assortment of captives there was no sound and no bots in sight. He thanked his god for small mercies and searched on.
As he opened each cell those inhabitants that were not caged came out. The prison sector had the aspect of a melee. It was confusing, but a colder part of Kyle thought at least the free prisoners would keep the Ecentrists from him.
Finally he heard a scream, it sounded unmistakeable over the other screams. There were screams of the pachenda, the salivaless race, screams of hruns, the kurrigions, but one was unmistakably female. He followed the sound, with increasingly urgent steps.
He crashed through the door and there, with an inquisitor, was Cetee. It was the first inquisitor Kyle had seen. It looked around with its many faceted eyes and prongs and prods, and its countenance was terrible. Kyle hoped it was the last one he would see. Kyle saw what it was doing to Cetee and his rage boiled. Cetee lay bleeding and chained. The inquisitor, if possible for a bot construction other than the Lore, looked smug.
“Question time’s over, big boy,” said Kyle, and he fired.
The inquisitor didn’t stand a chance.
He fired again, four times.
Cetee stood up. The carcass of the inquisitor ran with lubricant. “Question time’s over? You really should stick to just shooting you know, it’s much more impressive.”
“What, not even a pleased to see me?”
Cetee walked over to him and put her arms round him and kissed him squarely on the lips.
“I’m pleased to see you, tribe boy.”
“Now let’s get out of her, all hell’s about to break loose.”
Cetee was naked and her armour was nowhere to be seen. Cetee threw on K
yle’s shirt and they left.
Outside, gargoyles were running down the hall.
“Quick!” this way said Kyle, and bundled Cetee into an access tunnel. “We’ve got to get back to Orpal quick.”
“Orpal’s alive!”
“Yes, but Archeon’s about to kick off. We’d better hurry.”
“I’ve been such a fool, Kyle. I’m so sorry.”
“Orpal told me all about it. He’s got the man you thought was Um’lael Sabreme. You don’t have to say anything. Now come on.”
Kyle fired behind him without looking. His blood was up, and with his arm around Cetee he felt like a hero. The blood clarity was upon him. Dendritic thoughts assailed his brain and feelings of power deluged him.
He fired and a gargoyle shattered into tiny pieces.
“Blam!” said the genogun. “This is fun! Who’s the chick?”
“Just shoot and shut up.”
“No need to get snooty.” The gun destroyed a gargoyle that was careless enough to run out into the corridor.
They ran. Orpal gave directions.
Between them and Orpal were ranks of gargoyles.
“It’s no use,” he said sadly to Cetee.
Cetee hugged him tight.
“Well, let’s at least go down fighting,” she said. Her sinblade flicked out.
The gargoyles advanced. They started shooting. Kyle fired back, his gun firing faster than the gargoyles could advance. But his gun could no more hold back the tide than Orpal in all his glory could have. It was a losing battle.
Kyle fired continuously. The gargoyles realised that there was nowhere for the couple to go. Ahead, towards Orpal, the gargoyles held their ground. Each one that poked its head around the corner was blown to smithereens by Kyle’s gun. The genogun chirped with pleasure as it fired, but even with the blood rage upon him Kyle could see no way out. The gargoyles just kept on coming.
Kyle shouted to Archeon. No reply came.
Kyle rubbed his gun warmly, smiled to Cetee and prepared to die.
*
Archeon morphed into an Uriel. He walked down the wide corridor, carrying the pieces of the emitter, all assembled, straight into the octomant. His head was held high as he prepared to meet the rulers of the Ecentrists.
They loomed before him.
“Thank you,” said Baal, the elder, “you have brought us what we wanted.”
Archeon was dwarfed by the triumvirate. Each was easily the size of a continent, and each of the ruling three shifted and grumbled, their faces lent a rocky aspect.
“I have brought you this as your chance of redemption. Show me how to use it and I will let you live.” The holy trinity couldn’t tell a bluff. Archeon stood proud and stared them down. It was no use asking them to save the Lore. There was no mercy in their componets.
Asroth beamed at Archeon. “You are pathetic. The last of your kind and you seek to threaten us. “
“It is no idle threat. Teach me how to use the emitter and I will allow you to live.”
“Don’t make me laugh, dwarf.”
Archeon morphed and tried again. He was bidding his time.
“Very well, give the piece to me and we will show you how it works,” said Baal’em.
Archeon knew that the triumvirate just wanted a chance to get their hands on the most powerful archeofact in existence, but let them take the piece. If they could make it work, then half of Archeon’s work would be done. Archeon gave the piece to the triumvirate. Baal’em took the tiny archoefact in his massive hands and changed their shape, so that its hands became smaller and increasingly dense, as Archeon could. The piece, tiny and nondescripted, still looked infinitely more beautiful that the giant Baal’em.
There came a click, and the piece began to hum.
Archeon saw what looked like pleasure in Baal’em’s face.
Then, as Kyle had promised, all hell broke loose.
Archeon was miffed. He had wanted to grandstand some more, but there was no longer time. Across the distance Kyle’s voice barked through the eargen, reroute to Archeon by Orpal.
“Fire!” Kyle shouted. “Archeon, fire!”
The Lu shrugged. The triumvirate stared in amazement as the emitter started to shake in Baal’em gentle hands. Archeon shrugged too. It was the perfect time.
Archeon, fire, Kyle had said. Well, if they weren’t away safe they would just have to take their chances with the rest of creation.
Archeon swelled.
He shifted forms more rapidly, and Baal’em, looking at him was worried. It took a lot to worry the trinity.
Then, Archeon let go. It was as if he had been holding his breath for the eons that the Lore had not spoken to him. He had a lot to say.
He set himself to go and tried not to harm anything biological in nature. Orpal would just have to take his chances.
Archeon shot each and every gargoyle on the ship. Laser fire swam in all directions and the gargoyles were no more.
The triumvirate screamed, like tearing metal. They held out longer than the gargoyles.
The assembled piece of the emitter clanked to the floor. Archeon stooped in the empty space where the triumvirate had once ruled and picked it up.
“Nobody ever lets me show off,” he said to no one in particular.
*
Archeon fled as fast as he was able. The ship was crumbling around his ears. The Lu’s eyes were in for a bumpy ride, but they didn’t mind at all.
Huna was falling to pieces around them.
“So that’s what you can do, is it? Most impressive. I see why you are the last of your kind. The Lore must hate that they made you,” said the eyes.
“Yes, they do, but they have finally seen a need for me.”
Archeon rounded a finally corner and saw Kyle with his arm around Cetee’s shoulder. They waited outside Orpal for the last of the Lore weapons to come. They would not have left without him. Huna was shaking in its death throes.
“Cetee! My dear girl!” said the last weapon. “I thought you had sold us out. But I was wrong. It is good to see you again.”
Kyle had a grin from ear to ear.
“Do you have it?” he asked.
“Yes,” Archeon showed him the emitter. “I saw what they did. Let’s go and save my people.”
“People?”
“Well, kind, then if you’re going to be picky.” Archeon was beaming. He had finally done what he was made for. He felt euphoria swimming eel-like through each of his nanide components. It was bliss.
Archeon took one last look at the empty space he had left behind. He smiled and waved. The Lu, in their housing, were affected by the emotions that pulsed through Archeon. Together, they smiled.
The hatch shut down and Kyle, Cetee, Archeon, the Lu, the genogun and Orpal all looked at Habla’saem. Orpal thought proudly to himself, this time I have a full compliment. I am ready to end the war. Evolution, here I come.
There wasn’t a warm welcome among them for the socioassassin.
They sped across the surface of space to sector where the emitter was needed.
The last of the Ecentrists, without the rulling triumvirate, prepared for a last ditch battle against the Tradition. Across space, Orpal swam. Ever closer. The Ecentrists didn’t stand a chance.
*
Aboard the ship Cetee met Habla’saem again. This time he appeared in his true guise, that of a vastly overweight shut-in.
She wasted no time.
“You bastard!” she cried and leapt.
Kyle tried to stop her. He did. Any thoughts that Kyle had of stopping her didn’t last long. He really didn’t know why but even with the blood rage upon him he could do nothing. She was just too fast. Cetee didn’t waste time with threats when she fought.
No man would ever make a fool of her again. She drew her blade and before Kyle could stop her she had sheathed the sinblade within the folds of Habla’saem’s fat mass.
The sound her blade made was exactly like that of a blade being sheathed.
>
As the poison rushed through his system, shuting it down, the socioassassin had time to rue the futility of his foray into battle. The Lore were not even dead. He had failed.
It was his last thought before he died.
As he died Kyle looked on at Cetee in awe. She had been so quick. Orpal didn’t even have time to say anything to her. All that Archeon would say was a quick ‘well done’.
They settled in for the ride and Habla’saem stared back at the crew as they went to save the world. He was just a glassy eyed ornament for the journey. There was no point in keeping him.
“Well, you saved me having to deal with him,” said Orpal. It was all Orpal could do to fly. He had no glib comments to make. There was not enough of his brain left functioning to speak and fly.
“That was quick,” said Kyle, impressed. He gave the death not another thought.
“Well, I promised myself if I ever saw him again I would pay him back for your death. I thought you were all dead for so long,” said Cetee.
“But we’re not and you still killed him,” pointed out the Lu.
“A promise is a promise,” was all that Cetee would say.
“She’s cute. Who did you say she was again?” asked the genogun.
They dumped the body out without ceremony as they arrived. The journey had not taken long. Orpal hovered in space between the forces of the four great races and began to speak.
“Now is the time Archeon. The first message is in your hands.”
Orpal sighed. It was time.
Habla’saem would not see the fruition of his plans. The total destruction of a species would not happen again in his lifetime. If only he’d been interested in births, not deaths.
Habla’saem floated past and aboard his shell ship Archeon spoke to the remainder of the Lore and turned the emitter on. He clicked the something into place, just as the triumvirate had shown him.
The robots were set across space. The Tradition independents warmed up their genesis weapons and prepared to use them on the Ecentrists. The Ecentrist’s genesis weapons were already primed, but they could no more harm the Tradition than Archeon could. Even the last weapon could not harm the Tradition. They were just too large.
Evolution Page 24
