Destiny's Choice (The Wandering Engineer)

by Hechtl, Chris

  “It is a new thing your majesty. We have begun rebuilding the Pyrax system and wish to strengthen it against the pirates that prey upon the area. Our brave soldiers recently captured and destroyed a fleet of pirate ships and we wish to make sure others do not come to strike at our neighbors.”

  Their majesties exchanged glances then nodded. “We have heard of such things. Indeed it has been something of a concern for us. However so far they have not dared show themselves here.”

  “Yes your majesty,” the servant said bobbing a nod.

  “Admiral this is strange. They have technology but the upper crust seems to be hoarding it. Using it only to keep their grasp on power,” Sprite reported.

  “Typical actually,” Irons replied softly, watching the byplay below. Mayfair was handing over a few of the gifts. He felt a bit of amusement. She of course didn't mention that he had been the one to make them.

  “They have modern weapons Admiral. It seems they are from an armory. Although there are hunting weapons the nobles have taken custody of as well. Somehow they got around the ID check for plasma guns.”

  “Did you say...” He turned face away from the goings on below. “Plasma?” Plasma weapons changed things.

  “I did indeed. Look below again.” He did as directed. Silently she highlighted the royal guards behind the monarchs, then a box appeared around a weapon and it was magnified. Each was decked out in glittery and a few sported jewelry and hanging ribbons and cloth, but the shapes were indeed plasma weapons.

  “But if they have that... they have to have the infrastructure to support it. A power supply for one thing. I didn't see a single solar farm or wind turbine. How the hell can they use plasma weapons and get around the implant lock outs?”

  “There were a few off the coast. Most were not functional. They may have a tidal generator, or geothermal. I suppose they have a dedicated power line to the castle. If you note the lights, they are actually electrical, not the typical lamp oil. Their flicker is a cheap trick.”

  “Ah,” the Admiral nodded. He felt a breeze and turned. A fan, built into the wall had come on. It was covered by a tapestry. It made the heavy drapery move a little. His thermal imaging picked out the air temperature difference.

  “Fascinating,” Sprite said. “They aren't as backward as they first looked.” Sprite was amused by that it seemed.

  “Just goes to show, don't judge a book by it's cover,” the Admiral growled.

  “Enough,” the king rumbled. He looked down to see the king was waving the servants away. “We shall see to these gifts at a more appropriate time. And we shall grant you a private audience later. Now to other matters.”

  “How the hell did they get plasma weapons?” Irons asked when he was alone. His quarters were a sty, and unfortunately he didn't have a bot to clean them. He was just glad he had nanites to fend off the bacteria and bugs that infested the room. He wasn't looking forward to lying down on that straw mattress. Not only was it infested but it looked down right uncomfortable... and from the look of some suspicious stains on it, not clean in other ways either. Great.

  There was a blood stain on the floor someone hadn't quite gotten out of the wood. The corner near the small window smelled of vomit. He was planning on not spending a whole lot of time in here if he could help it. In fact he was seriously considering bunking in the shuttle.

  The only thing that kept him here was the thought of Willis and Mayfair and their ilk having to put up with the same living conditions. The captain and Willis had lectured Mayfair in diplomacy and tact, and accepting the living conditions in order to promote her cause. He was fairly sure that was the only reason she was still here.

  The roof was again soot stained. He had a small fireplace with a rotting stag's skull and antlers above the mantle. The mantle was covered in candle wax. It dripped all over the mantle and floor under it.

  There was a single drapery on the wall above the bed. It had an image of a hunter with a bow on horse back chasing down a stag.

  The bed was a box affair, not very sturdy and dark. It was a four poster, with the posts carved with flowers and vines. The top of the bed was draped in blue linen curtains.

  There was a fur bed spread, one on top of the other. The top one was a white and black badger. There was a matching one on the floor in front of the bed.

  “Obviously you haven't hunted on this planet,” Sprite said dryly.

  “You're kidding. A plasma weapon would tear anything apart! Talk about overkill!”

  “Some of the native dragons might disagree. They have pretty thick hides. They've got some sort of carbon dermatological growth over their vitals that deflects most kinetic rounds.”

  “Ah,” he said. “So they are relics of past hunters? Passed down through the ages?”

  “Most likely. None are military grade if that is what you are asking. Possibly from a militia or traded from a passing ship. None have implant limiters.”

  “Oh lovely.” Plasma weapons were not only a danger to himself but also to any shuttle that attempted to take off or land here. That complicated things a little.

  “I noticed something else you might have overlooked.”

  “Oh? Do tell. I didn't get a brief you know.”

  “That's because I wasn't sure if you were going down to the planet until we were on the shuttle Admiral.”

  “True. You were saying?” he said, dismissing that complaint. She was right, it had been a spur of the moment choice.

  “Did you notice that the entire population is made up of human stock?”

  “It is a Terran colony. Russian or eastern European I believe,” he answered dryly.

  “Both cultures tended to be Orthodox.”

  “True, but this area had a lot of refugees during the war years so that's not entirely true anymore. Also, the Terrans are stock human. No Neos, and few if any genies.”

  “Really,” he said looking up, not liking the thought of that. He'd noted the lack of aliens but... really?

  “Yes. And if you had looked closely enough...” She brought up an image of the throne room. The view shifted and then a karat box formed around a head on the wall and zoomed in. Irons winced as he recognized the rack of antlers and skull structure. It was the head of a Naga. Sprite zoomed out so he could see the heads of others there. Some he recognized. Others were so old and rotten only an experienced field xenologist would be able to figure them out. He winced.

  “How long?” he asked quietly.

  “Apparently your people here regressed to isolationism, forcing beings outside your species to the fringes and then hunting them.”

  “They aren't my people,” he growled darkly. “How long?” he asked again.

  “Unknown. But based on this I would say it's been going on for centuries. My guess is there aren't any more non-terrans or Neo's left.”

  “I guess Asia is going to pass on this world,” he said dryly.

  “Highly likely.”

  He thought for a moment, and then went to the window. He put his hand on the sill and then grimaced, wiping it. The sill had some sort of fungus on it. He stared out into the dark night. “They are right up Horath's alley,” he said softly.

  “Which might explain why they were bypassed by the pirates several times. What I am wondering is if the pirates are in... I believe you use the term cahoots, with them?”

  “Fitting.”

  “I try. They could be using this system as a forward base of operations.”

  “We don't have any data on that. It's speculation,” Irons said after a moment. Not that he was going to totally dismiss the idea.

  “True, but it does fit past behavior patterns of the pirates.”

  “We need to look into this,” he said. He looked around. “and I'm going to need to get back to the port to recharge in a couple of days.”

  “Definitely. I would highly recommend it Admiral.”

  “Right,” he said. He turned to the bed and wrinkled his nose. His sensors could detect the bugs i
n it. His nanites would make short work of any that came after him, but he wasn't happy about sharing a bed with them. He had sprayed the top layers but apparently the straw mattress was infested with them, through and through. Great. He'd probably hear them scuttling around in the bag as he tried to sleep.

  If he had his druthers he'd get up and go sight seeing. But the local constables had been clear about a mandatory curfew for the tourists. He wasn't sure why at first, then it hit him. Muggers. They probably didn't want thieves and cut throats killing any unsuspecting tourists. That would ruin the planet's so called clean image.

  He'd seen enough to know he really didn't like this planet. He'd have to check for more but he was pretty sure he wasn't going to toss them much. Anything he did give them the royals would keep for themselves anyway. He didn't want to give them anything more to help keep them in power. That was a dilemma for another day though.

  “Night Sprite.”

  Chapter 25

  “What the..?” Sprite said. She looked at the file and then whistled softly. “Admiral got a moment?” She turned her attention outward. He was usually a grump in the morning if he didn't have his coffee. They didn't have it on this world apparently so she'd done her best to stay out of his way until he wanted something.

  Apparently most of the people in the castle worked on a different time schedule than the Admiral and others. Irons had tuned out the raucous partying nearby and in the courtyard below for hours after he went to bed. He'd woken at sun up and gone down to the kitchens but had found the cooks asleep at their posts and no food or drinks. He'd come back to his room in a somewhat foul mood.

  He was examining himself in a mirror. The mirror was little more than a silver coated, meter sized circle. “You are still as...” He glared. She coughed. “Um never mind?” she said weakly.

  “Better,” he said. He used a towel to wipe his face off. “What?” he asked after a moment.

  “Well I was going through their historical database. Get this, the latest generation thinks they are descendants of Camelot.”

  “You're kidding.” He slowed his grooming.

  “I kid you not Admiral. Direct descendants of King Author Pendragon and the knights of the round table. At least that is how the current king presents himself to his lords. Made them swallow it too.”

  “He wouldn't be the first lord or government to rewrite his own history to benefit his own ends.”

  “Or the last,” Sprite agreed.

  “Cute,” Irons said shaking his head and wiping at his chin. “You were saying?”

  “Yes. He even had a tech wizard named... get this, Merlin.”

  Irons stopped what he was doing to look into the silvering mirror. “The Latin was Myrden I think.”

  “Something like that,” Sprite said with a snort. “The tech wizard's real name was Myren. He offered his services and repaired some of the tech around. From what I have on him he wasn't from this planet.”

  “Tourist?”

  “Or immigrant. He even rigged a sword in the stone act. With electromagnets in the stone.”

  “Ah,” Irons thought about it for a moment. “Could work.”

  “It worked enough to get a few people on his side. Or at least amuse and impress them.”

  “And he hammered them into a solid following to unite the planet? That was all it took?” He was surprised by that for a moment, then annoyed with himself. Sometimes all it took was an ideal to get people motivated and moving in a direction someone wanted. If you showed a dream that synched up with their own and enough leadership to appear to be able to make it happen...

  “That and some utter ruthlessness. He's a smart bastard. He organized a parliament, complete with a house of lords. Then when they fell to arguing one too many times he closed the doors and flooded the room with mustard gas. Primitive but effective.” Sprite's avatar smiled maliciously. “Bet you wish you could have done that a time or two.”

  Irons winced. “Yeah,” he said then realized he wasn't breathing and took a breath. “Yeah,” he inhaled, nostrils dilating. Chemical weapons... great. “Bad way to go.”

  “Oh yeah. One nasty way to go. He caught a few of his supporters too though. That caused a brief civil war. He stomped on it hard. He had all the advantages, he had the center cutting off most of their supply lines, the initiative since he knew what had been planned and planned contingencies in case of an uprising... and he had one hell of a good field general on his side. Anyone who revolted got the axe if they were caught. Literally. Them and their entire family. Right down to pregnant women and newborns.”

  Irons was pretty sure that fear alone would have cowed many of the lordlings who had been sitting on the fence. “Well, that's one way to make sure they don't come back in twenty years to haunt you I guess.” Irons said with a disgusted grunt.

  “Correct. Their lands were divided up between the supporters. After a couple more gruesome public examples no one dared cross him.”

  “Yeah. Smart. Keep their heads down.”

  “But that wasn't enough. He demanded each lord send their children. They are here somewhere. Or so the file says. I haven't found them though.”

  “I'm starting to feel like I don't like this place,” the Admiral said firmly.

  “A nice place to visit on a hunting vacation but not to stay you mean?” Sprite asked dryly.

  “Not even that.”

  “True,” Sprite sniffed.

  “What about this tech wizard?” That had him curious. Could it really be someone from his time? A sleeper?

  “Gone. Some say he vanished. That he'll reappear when he's needed. I haven't found him in the system.”

  “Cross check the ships in the system at the time of his disappearance. Before and after. Maybe the guy got wise and jumped planet.”

  “Possible. I'll have to access other files for that. They are in the space port. Unfortunately I don't have access. It isn't part of this net. It's a hardwired one, and it's old. By the way, this system is now virus free thanks to me.”

  “Oh goody.”

  “I'm still betting Merlin is in a stasis pod or he got the axe.”

  “He could be locked in a tower somewhere,” Irons replied.

  “Highly doubtful but also a possibility that cannot be discounted.”

  “Remind me to get you a peek at the spaceport net when we go for a walk,” The Admiral said with a nod. He stretched. “Give me a run down on the players in court again. Just in case I run into them again. I want to be prepared.” He sat down and laid out on the bed, hands behind his head.

  “Very well Admiral,” Sprite sighed.

  Irons paused on the tour. He wasn't at all impressed with the castle. It was one stone corridor or room after another. All of them stank of various smells, mostly urine since there was apparently no form of public rest room. He was fairly certain Willis, Mayfair and the other female Pyraxian's hated that oversight. He'd seen Willis's look of disgust a few times enough to be sure she was ready to leave. He looked around just long enough for a page to come over. “Is something amiss lord?”

  “No, not really. And I'm not a lord son,” he turned to the young man. “I am a Fleet Admiral.”

  “Oh. My apologies sir,” the young man said in confusion and bowed. He had the red tunic livery of the royal house but it was trimmed in silver not gold. Apparently they took sides, silver for the queen, gold for the king.

  “No problem,” he said looking over to a drab tall tower. It was out of place. It took him a moment to realize why. When he did he pursed his lips. The rest of the castle was built of stone. That tower was made out of concrete. He turned to the young man. “Is that a relic of the past?”

  “Oh no sir, that's Merlin's tower.”

  “Oh?” he asked. “Is he in?” he asked and started towards the tower. His sensors were being blocked by the thick walls and rebar. He needed to get closer to get a better reading. The young man gasped and quickly got in his way.

  “Oh no sir. We can't go th
ere. It is forbidden.” He held his hands out, blocking the Admiral's way. A guard looked up at his antics and nudged another. The first grunted irritably but then scowled when the first pointed his way.

  “Is it? Why is that?” he asked turning to look at the kid.

  “By order of their majesties,” the young man said nervously, looking around and toward the guards at the tower entrance. Both were scowling now.

  “All right. In this case I can respect it.” He let the boy guide him back the way he had come. “I take it Merlin doesn't like to be disturbed?”

  “No my lord. He's ah... gone.”

  “Oh?”

  “He... some say he died. Or that their majesties had him sleep the sleep of ages once more so he may be woken when he is most needed.”

  “That sounds suspiciously like a stasis pod,” Sprite said for his ears alone.

  “Not to mention slavery,” he said under his breath.

  “You say something sir?” the page asked. He looked down to the black haired youth. He was probably about twelve or thirteen. His hair had been bowl cut. He wasn't sure why. Tradition maybe. A bioscan showed that he was suffering from lice. Ugh.

  “Just thinking out loud,” he said. “I am curious. What did Merlin do?”

  “He ah, invented many things. Or repaired old things. The king's armor for one.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Do you like it here? How is living here in the castle?”

  “I know of no other way sir. I've been in the castle my entire life.”

  “Interesting. You're the son of a lord?”

  “Yes sir,” the boy said curtly, passing a pair of guards and opening a door to the stairs. He followed the boy up to a familiar hallway.

  “Your room sir.”

  He hadn't specified going to his room, but didn't comment as he went inside. He turned as the boy did. “Your dinner shall be sent to you sir if you are not interested in going to the main room. Please ring if you need anything.” He indicated the rope hanging near the door. Irons looked at it just as the kid made his exit. He pursed his lips. Smart kid, he thought and then shrugged.