by DuBoff, Amy
But a friend who reports to the Priesthood. “Any system needs some tweaking now and then.”
“And who gets to decide those changes? “
Cris shook his head. “I’m still trying to figure that out.”
Banks nodded, thoughtful. “For what it’s worth, I think it should be a reluctant leader—not driven by self-interest, but a desire to fulfill the common good.”
“Idealistic thinking.”
“But find a way to balance idealism and practicality, and things might just change for the better.”
“We’ll have a chance to rebuild after the war, when the time is right,” Cris assured him. “And we’ll make it the best it can be.”
* * *
Haersen stepped into the rebuilt office of the Imperial Director. It was now the most significant location in the Bakzeni Empire—the seat of power for both civil administration and military force. He would likely be the only Taran to ever enter the room, and for that he was honored.
Tek was gazing out the window. It was rare to see him indulging in luxuries like a view, but his new position him granted those moments of reflection.
“All of the bases have reported in,” Haersen announced. “Your authority is acknowledged and unquestioned by all remaining senior officers.”
“Final casualties?” Tek questioned.
“3,572,” Haersen replied, “87 of which were officers.”
Tek scoffed. “It still surprises me that the drones have strong enough opinions worth dying for.”
“Imprinting is imperfect.”
“Indeed. The flexibility of loyalty is difficult to express.” Tek turned his gaze out the window once more. “Soon all of those worlds out there will be ours.”
“We are well on our way to achieving that goal.”
“Have the new drones been deployed to the edge of the rift?” Tek asked.
Haersen smiled. “Well, the casualty number I quoted wasn’t entirely accurate. Komatra realized we could subdue the drones that remained loyal to the previous command structure. They will make the perfect tools to begin forming the new pathways.”
Tek nodded. “Excellent thinking.”
“The Tarans will never see us coming.”
Part 3: Revelations
CHAPTER 25
A chill ran down Wil’s spine. Whispers filled his mind, beckoning. He looked around the dark room, but saw nothing out of place. What was that? “Did you…?”
His men were watching him from around the edge of the freefall chamber. Their eyes glowed softly against the artificial starscape.
“Are you okay?” asked Michael, who was floating just to his left.
Wil shrugged it off. “Yes. Sorry, I thought I heard something.” He returned his attention to the training session.
The Primus Elite trainees had all progressed to Junior Agents, far stronger than anyone had anticipated. Wil had been working with them every day for just under five years, and that training was nearly complete. The daily exercises had made them a tight-knit group, and his Captains were trusted advisors and knew how to carry out his orders with precision.
“You’re just losing it from spending too much time in subspace,” Ian joked.
It’s probably true. Wil had spent the last year focusing on spatial dislocation with his men. His four Captains and five of the other trainees had already mastered hovering on the brink of subspace in the maneuver affectionately known as “stopping time,” but Wil’s own training had taken it a step further. He was still struggling with simultaneous observation—perceiving tactical movements on the two habitable dimensional planes so he could anticipate where and when a Bakzen ship would jump to the other plane. To do so, Wil effectively needed to oscillate between the planes, passing back and forth so quickly that he would be in both almost at once.
He knew the theory behind what he must do, but he was struggling with the execution. Though he kept trying, he couldn’t seem to hold both places in his mind at the same time. He was growing increasingly more anxious over the impasse, because he knew that simultaneous observation was his entire purpose in the war. If he couldn’t do it, then Tarans would remain at a major disadvantage in any battle against the Bakzen.
“Come on, let’s run through it again,” Wil said. We need to keep trying. Even if it is driving me crazy.
Michael and Ian took their positions to either side of Wil at the center of the freefall chamber. Around the perimeter, the men regrouped into their core team of specialists. Each man held a tablet that was serving as an analog for the controls of a vessel. The purpose of the exercise was to hone the timing of telepathic orders coming from Wil and his Captains, reducing the lag between commands and action. They had been making progress, but Wil kept pushing them for even greater response times. Milliseconds could make the difference, we don’t know.
Wil surveyed the room. Everyone appeared to be in position. “Fleet?” asked Wil telepathically.
“Fleet check,” replied Michael. He was Wil’s second-in-command responsible for relaying Wil’s orders to the battleships with the help of his team.
“Tactical?”
“Tactical check,” replied Ian, the team lead for special tactical assaults.
“Pilots?”
“Primus team check,” replied Ethan, the lead for the Primus Elite pilot specialists.
“Pilot command check,” replied Curtis, who was responsible for relaying commands to the precision strike groups in the larger TSS fleet.
The telepathic communications were almost instantaneous, in theory, but in a real battle scenario his men would need to interpret field data, and that would cause delays. The tighter they could get their own communications, the faster they would be when it mattered most.
Wil took slow, even breaths as he became the hub of the telepathic network. He slipped into a relaxed state of consciousness, hovering on the brink of subspace. It wasn’t the state of simultaneous observation he ultimately needed to achieve, but it was as close as he could hold for any meaningful duration.
He doled out commands, and his men responded. He tried to keep the commands varied and seemingly random so they couldn’t fall into a comfortable rhythm of familiarity. Likewise, inventing new scenarios kept Wil fresh. As they worked, the tablets recorded all the inputs, which they would review after the session to identify the places where they still needed the most work.
Wil was completely focused on giving orders when whispers again intruded into his mind. This time, however, the echoes formed words. “We’re coming.”
Wil pulled his consciousness back to the physical plane, his heart racing. The voice was familiar. Is it them?
His men were looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to complete his telepathic orders. In particular, Michael and Ian seemed almost alarmed that he had cut off the instructions so abruptly.
Wil took a deep breath. He had spent years touching subspace in such a manner, but never before had he felt a sentient presence. But a mysterious consciousness seeking him out—that was all too similar to his brief touch with the Aesir after the Headquarters break-in more than two years prior. Am I just losing my mind or is it real? Maybe I need a break. “Okay, that should be enough data collection for this session. Team leads, please run an analysis and get me a report before our check-in this afternoon. We’ll discuss next steps then. Dismissed.”
The Captains exchanged glances and the other men started heading toward the only door in the chamber. The practice session was scheduled to run for another hour, and such sessions were almost never cut short.
Wil noticed his Captains staying behind. “Go on,” he told them, “you have work to do.”
The Captains looked at each other again and nodded to Wil. They were far too trained and familiar with Wil’s normal behavior to believe everything was fine, but they also respected his instructions, however irregular.
Wil took a few minutes to settle his nerves before exiting the freefall chamber. He found Michael waiting for him in
the hall. Since the wedding two years before, he had remained a close friend to Wil and Saera, and with Michael working as a Second alongside Saera, Wil had been able to push himself further than with any other combination.
“What was going on with you today?” Michael asked. As Wil’s second-in-command, it wasn’t uncommon for him to be the voice of the group—and to be rather blunt when he did so.
“There was some weird energy in subspace today. I don’t think it’s anything to worry about.” Let’s hope that’s all it was. If they are coming for me now...
Michael’s mouth was drawn with concern. “Are you sure you’re doing okay?”
“Yeah, just a little tired. I’ll be fine.”
“You’ve been wearing yourself pretty thin lately,” Michael continued.
“I have to,” Wil countered. “I’m running out of time to learn simultaneous observation.”
“Burning yourself out won’t do any good.”
Am I heading toward burnout? But it’s been this way my whole life—why is now any different? “It’s hard for me to keep an objective perspective on my own state.”
“So I hope you’ll take our concern to heart.” Michael paused for a moment. “Saera asked me to keep an eye on you in practice. Even she’s worried about you.”
That’s not surprising. Saera had become even more protective of Wil since they had married, but he knew that was her way of looking out for him as the demands of his duty to the TSS threatened to take him from her. “Thank you, but I’m fine. Really.”
Michael nodded. “Okay.” It was clear from his tone that the matter wasn’t resolved, but was willing to let Wil have some space for the time being.
He really does know me well. “I’m going to hole up in a study room down here and get some spec reviews done. I’ll see you this afternoon.”
“See you then.”
Wil exhaled, trying to release the tension that had been building in his chest. Now for some quiet time.
* * *
Banks rubbed his eyes wearily. It wasn’t even lunchtime yet and it already felt like it had been a long day. That’s never a good sign.
He sighed and brought up his e-mail. As usual, there were tedious reports from Agents about various missions, a few progress write-ups on Junior Agents nearing graduation, and far too much other mundane business. He browsed through the message list and marked a few items for later follow-up. He was trying to invent an excuse to take an early lunch when the touchscreen on his desktop suddenly shuddered—going blank before returning with a pixelated flash. What was that? It looked like a hiccup in the Mainframe, but that seemed highly unlikely.
Banks studied the screen. It appeared to be functionally normally again. I should let the Communications team know just in case—
The viewscreen on the wall of his office illuminated in a pixelated flash, like what had passed over the desktop. The desktop again shuddered, and both screens went black. White text simultaneously appeared on the two screens: “Bring us the Cadicle.”
Stars no! Banks leaped to his feet. He snatched his handheld from the charging pad on his desktop. Trying to control the shaking of his hands, he called Wil’s handheld. Banks paced across his office as he waited for Wil to pick up. The agonizing moments dragged on.
Wil finally answered. “Yes, sir?”
“Where are you?”
“Down on Level 11. Why?”
“Wil, the Aesir are here for you.”
“Now?” He didn’t sound completely surprised.
“There was a message. I haven’t received any notice of a ship’s arrival yet, but I’m sure you don’t have much time. If you want to say any goodbyes—”
Wil hung up before Banks finished his sentence.
Banks took an unsteady breath. I can only hope he’s prepared for whatever test they have for him. There’s no escape.
An alarm chirped. “Proximity alert. Unauthorized ship,” CACI announced.
Bomax. Already? “Where?”
“The primary vessel has docked at the TSS port, and a shuttle has landed at the terminal on the surface,” CACI replied.
How could they move so quickly? “Allow them to take the elevator to this level. Lock down the rest of Headquarters.” However, after how easily the Aesir had overridden the security systems before, he doubted the lockdown would do any good.
Banks rushed down the long hallway to the central elevator lobby. As he waited for the Aesir, his heart pounded in his ears. What are they going to do with him? He paced to pass the time, trying to settle his nerves.
Without warning, the elevator door opened and the lights in the lobby simultaneously cut out. Only a single emergency light above the elevator remained lit. Banks froze. They have control of the Mainframe again. We’re helpless.
In the dim light, Banks recognized the three figures as Oracles, though he had never seen one in person. There were two men and one woman, though few distinguishing features of gender were visible through their dark robes. They peered into the lobby.
“Where is the Cadicle?” the male Oracle in the center demanded. “You cannot keep him from us.”
Can I really just hand him over? “Please, don’t take him. If he doesn’t survive…”
The Oracle glared, his eyes glowing white orbs. “If he does not survive, then he is not who you think.”
“He’s still so young—”
“If he is not ready to see now, then he never will be,” the Oracle replied.
The three Oracles closed their eyes for a moment. “We have found him.” The controls lit up on the elevator. “Go to him with us,” the Oracle commanded. “We must speak with you.”
Banks felt someone in his mind, but he was unable to keep them out. He was compelled to comply.
* * *
Wil ran down the hall toward the Primus classrooms. I need to get to Saera while I still can.
He arrived at his wife’s classroom, finding that the door was locked. Banks must have instituted a lockdown. He palmed open the door. At the front of the class, Saera was trying to sooth her students. She looked at Wil with surprise when he appeared in the doorway.
“Saera, come here,” Wil said.
“Everything’s going to be fine, hold on,” Saera said to the class. She jogged over to meet Wil in the hallway. “What’s—?”
“The Aesir are here to take me.” It was only a matter of time.
“Wil…” Saera threw her arms around him. Though no one knew much about the Aesir, Wil had said enough for her to know what the visit meant.
Wil hugged her back. “I couldn’t leave without seeing you one more time, in the event…”
Saera pulled back and took a deep breath. “You can handle whatever test they have for you.”
“I’ll try.”
The lights in the hall cut out.
Saera gasped. “What’s happening?” Saera inched closer to Wil.
“The Aesir must be on their way into Headquarters.”
Wil embraced his wife in the complete blackness. After a few moments, some emergency lights flickered on. He swallowed. That must be my cue. “I have to go. I love you always.”
Saera pulled him in for a kiss. “I love you, too. Be careful.”
Wil pulled away from Saera and strode resolutely down the hall. As he passed through the corridor, the overhead lights illuminated to form a path to the elevator lobby.
The lobby was empty. A single light was illuminated above one elevator, though the doors were closed. Wil took a deep breath. Try to believe in yourself.
As Wil approached the elevator, the doors opened. Three figures stepped out, and Wil saw Banks standing at the back of the elevator, staring at the floor.
The three strangers were robed in black with the iridescent fabric draping to the floor, contrasting with their pale skin—translucent flesh that had never felt the unfiltered light of a real sun. Their eyes were faint blue, almost white, but they glowed in the dim light. They seemed to see right through Wil, looki
ng at his very core. Wil struggled to retain composure as the figures studied him with unblinking eyes.
“Cadicle,” the center figure said, a slim man. “The Aesir have felt your presence ripple the fabric of existence. We must see if you are worthy of such power.”
“I am ready to be tested,” Wil replied, trying to sound confident. The Aesir! What happens if they don’t deem me worthy?
Banks stepped out of the elevator, looking distracted. “We await your return to Headquarters,” he said to Wil. “Be careful,” he added telepathically.
“Yes, sir.” I hope I will see this home again.
“Come with us, Cadicle,” said the robed figure on the right, a woman.
Wil stepped onto the elevator, feeling the intense presence of the three Aesir. The air hummed with their power. Never have I felt another like them. Is this what it’s like for others to be around me?
* * *
Banks stood motionless, processing the cryptic information the Oracle had disclosed in the elevator. With his mind racing, he gazed at the closed door through which Wil had just departed. “What was lost can still be rebuilt. A descendant of Dainetris is alive, but she cannot be saved. A son, under the proper care, might prosper.”
Banks didn’t know what to think. Is it possible one of the Dainetris Dynasty survived after their fall? It was conceivable. Only the Aesir and the Priesthood would be privileged to such knowledge. If it was true, such a living heir could change the face of Tararian politics—a return of the seventh High Dynasty. Of all people, they entrust this information to me?
CHAPTER 26
The Aesir ship was docked at the end of the port fixed above the moon’s surface. Though similar in size to a mid-class TSS cruiser, its form was ethereal by comparison. The hull swept backward in rounded ridges, meeting in a conical protrusion at the back end of the ship, which Wil imagined was the jump drive.
He was led up the gangway into the ship. Inside, the halls were elegant arched passageways with soft blue lights set in recesses that gave the impression of glowing crystals. The design was alien in many regards, but Wil found something about the ship comforting. After a few moments, he realized that the pleasant feeling came from the vibration of the ship, as if it were resonating on the same frequency as his own body. It made him feel more at home than he had in any other place.
