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Guardian Awakening

Page 24

by C. Osborne Rapley


  They were drawing weapons.

  “Put your weapons DOWN.” He could have taken them out by force of mind alone, but there had to be a demonstration of power, rather than a quiet collapse. He sent a telepathic command causing his body armour to unfold around him at the same time he pulled the machine pistols from their holsters.

  Aiming high, he fired a short burst above their heads. The sound reverberated around the room as the slugs rammed into the wall, sending fragments of plaster flying. “Put your weapons down NOW.” The noise died away, leaving a silence only broken by someone coughing. Two continued to raise laser pistols. Tristan turned towards them “Any defiance will be met with deadly force!”

  Laser fire splashed against his armour causing the cooling unit to kick in. Tristan fired again. The desks in front of them disintegrated, their bodies shuddered and crumpled backwards as the hail of lead hit them. Blood splattered the delegates around them. As the echoes died away several delegates screamed.

  He had to control the situation and prevent panic. “Please, all remain SEATED.” He re-enforced the command with a strong telepathic compulsion.

  Tristan spun round on his heels, sweeping the pistols around the room. “Anyone else wish to defy me?”

  He had the attention of the whole assembly, horror and fear etched on their faces. Tristan, an armed detachment is coming along the corridor. Dionysia’s warning impeded on his senses. They are part of the coup.

  Take them out! Send a general command to all AI’s use deadly force. This is the critical moment, and we need total control. He heard the whine as a Minigun behind him started to spin, then the silence was shattered. It lasted for only a few seconds, the low pitched rattle and the screams of the dying. He did not look back, but watched the faces of the people in front of him. Some fainted, others slumped forward with their head in their hands. Many screamed.

  It’s done, Tristan, you won’t have any trouble from behind now.

  “You will all now sit.” He raised his hand and lowered it, forcing everyone to sit down. There was silence. Any problems from the other assemblies, Dionysia?

  There were five that put up initial resistance. The perpetrators are dead. One avatar suffered damage, but was immediately replaced. All AI’s are in full control. He glanced at the massed screens. The AI’s had control, only one screen had gone black.

  Tristan folded back his armour, keeping his mind alert for any hint of aggression. “The time when the Sicceian’s subjugated and enslaved all other species is over.” There was prickling sensation between his shoulder blades. The fact that he was currently being watched by billions of people on hundreds of planets was un-nerving. He suppressed a shudder.

  After a few moments stunned silence, the Sicceian President stood. “Who are you, and where have you come from?” his voice trembled as he spoke.

  “I am a Guardian,” Tristan replied. “We once policed the Galaxy, ensuring all species lived in peace and prosperity. Because of your continued aggression, the Guardian’s and their planetary computers have been raised from their aeons-long slumbers.” He paused, sweeping his gaze around the hall. “There will now be peace. All hostilities will cease, slaves released and occupation forces withdrawn immediately. Non compliance and aggression will be met with maximum force.”

  The President regarded him silently then looked round the room before turning back to Tristan. “Well, Guardian.” His tone had a dismissive contemptuous edge.

  Tristan used Dionysia to amplify his telepathic command. You will treat me with respect, Mr. President.

  The President’s face drained of all colour. “Yes Guardian. I am sorry please, forgive me.” He took a shuddering breath. “We did instigate peace negations with the League, but we have heard nothing from our delegation since they informed us they were preparing to meet the League’s Admiral Clayandrian. We believe he had them killed, and our peace overtures must have been rejected.”

  Tristan held up his hand. His eyes swept the chamber and the bank of screens. “They were not rejected. There was no meeting. One of the aides was replaced by a suicide bomber recruited by a military faction. The plan was to kill the League leader and the peace delegation during the talks. League security detected the bomb, and while trying to apprehend the bomber he detonated the bomb, killing all your delegates and many of the aides.”

  There were gasps from around the chamber. The President leaned forward. “How do you know this Guardian?”

  “Since my return I have been monitoring everything that has been going on.”

  There was movement to the right. A person in high ranking military uniform rose and pointed at Tristan. “You were the one who attacked Admiral Sterians Head Quarters. You fit the description one of the surviving guards gave us just before he died.” He glared round at the seated delegates and fixed his gaze on the President. “Aesian’s daughter had returned, we took her for questioning to find out if the League’s Admiral Clayandrian had been eliminated. She is missing; none of our agents can find her.”

  The President turned on the speaker “You! You arranged for the destruction of our peace mission?”

  The officer sneered. “You are pathetic, all of you. “What can this supposed Guardian and the ridiculous League do against us? At this very moment a powerful fleet is heading to the planet central to the rebellion, Mylia! It is manned by elite forces who will stop at nothing to destroy the planet. We will destroy their leaders, and this so called Admiral Clayandrian. What of your precious League then, huh?”

  The President put his head in his hands. “What have you done, Tinestrian?” The assembly descended into uproar.

  “Silence!” Tristan shouted. Quiet descended almost immediately. “You have condemned your fleet to certain destruction. You must recall them now.”

  “It’s not possible. They were instructed not to respond to any further orders. They will not stop for anything. They will not stop until Mylia is destroyed. We know that you have no fleets close enough to prevent the destruction, so you will pay for trying to humiliate us.”

  “No!” Tristan fixed his jaw. “You will pay for what you have done.” He pointed at the military delegate Tinestrian for effect, and tore into his mind. Tinestrian threw his head back with a scream then collapsed, foaming at the mouth.

  Tristan turned to the President. “You will have peace. You must withdraw your fleets back to Sicceian space immediately. The League will do the same. All fleets must be withdrawn to their planets of origin; that is an order!”

  Another of the Sicceian delegates stood. “But what of the fleet heading to Mylia? If will not listen to us, what can we do.”

  “I will take care of them. Meanwhile, political representatives from each species must be chosen. A location will be found so that the next step in the peace process can be discussed. I warn you, we will be monitoring your progress. Anyone who does not comply with these instructions will be severely punished.”

  Tristan paused for a moment. “Now, I will leave you alone to discuss your next step in the peace process.” Dionysia, return me to your bunker please, and tell your colleagues that the transmission has ended. They must now go to phase two of the plan and watch the fleets. Again, the lurch as the lounge of the bunker appeared around him.

  Chapter Twenty One: The AI Core

  The soft breathing of Aesia sleeping curled tightly against him was the only thing that broke the silence of the room. Tristan stared at the ceiling, the room lit only buy the soft glow of a night light shining through the half open door from the hall.

  He had spoken with Da’ren and appraised the rest of the League’s commanders of the current situation with the Sicceian’s. He had ordered the nearest battle fleet to Mylia, but it would not arrive for at least three and a half weeks.

  He cursed his tactical mistake, but Sicceians had never attacked a planet deep behind the Leagues front lines, and to spare ships to protect every planet within the League would have cost so much in resources that conducting an offe
nsive war would be impossible. He had taken a calculated risk, now Mylia would pay.

  Dionysia had attempted to get the AI on Mylia to boot up, but other than the automated response systems the computer remained off line. Everything spun round and round in his head I need a plan!

  Aesia stirred. “Tristan?”

  “Yes.”

  “Get some sleep.”

  “I can’t, there has to be some way to defend Mylia. We are at the end of the war, and my adopted planet will be destroyed at the eleventh hour.”

  Aesia propped her head on her elbow and regarded him. “Why not use the active AI’s to transport you to the fleet you dispatched. At least you will be doing something and the fleet might just get there in time. After all, they will be better off with your leadership.”

  “That’s it! Aesia you are a genius.” He kissed her. “You go back to sleep, I have an idea I want to discuss with Dionysia.”

  Aesia sighed as Tristan got up. “OK, but remember you need sleep too.” She called after him as he padded out the door.

  He walked into the lounge area, shutting the door behind him so as not to disturb Tristain, who’s bedroom door was opposite the lounge. “Dionysia?” She shimmered into existence.

  “Yes Tristan?”

  “Are there sufficient AI’s functioning to transport me to the one nearest Mylia?”

  “Yes Tristan, but how does that help? You will arrive without a fleet and no AI backup. You would be committing suicide.”

  “Would the nearest one have sufficient power to transport me into the bunker of the AI on Mylia? Then once I’m there, I could activate her.”

  “Tristan, it’s risky. If we could get you in, we cannot get you back out. If you fail to get her activated, you would die from a lack of oxygen or from starvation.”

  “I have to take that chance. That fleet must be stopped. Mylia is central to the League. If it’s destroyed by the Sicceians the fragile peace process falls apart. What am I compared to millions if not billions of lives? I need you to compute the best way to transport me and get me in; as long as you have reasonable confidence that the AI is in operating condition.”

  “You do realise that if there has been total system failure, the bunker is unlikely to contain any breathable air,” Dionysia reminded him.

  “Please compute the chances and the best route for me.”

  “What do you intend to do once you have activated the AI?” Dionysia asked.

  “I will use the weapon of last resort.”

  “You can’t, you need two Guardians for the weapon to function.”

  “There are two Guardians.”

  Dionysia folded her arms across her chest. “You are not thinking of Tristain are you? She is too young to fly one of the black ships.”

  “She won’t have to. When I have the AI functioning, you will transport Tristain and Aesia to me. If Aesia is holding Tristain, you and the others will be able to transport both of them right?”

  “Yes.”

  “The ships just need to sense individual Guardian DNA, they don’t need a Guardian to actually fly them, Aesia could do that.”

  “Tristan, what are you talking about?” Aesia demanded. She had walked into the room unnoticed during their conversation.

  Tristan turned. “Aesia! Couldn’t you get back to sleep?”

  “No, I could hear your voices, even in the bedroom.”

  “Oh sorry.”

  Aesia frowned. “What are you planning that involves Tristain?”

  “Please sit down, Aesia, and hear me out.” Tristan indicated the lounge sofa.

  Aesia’s frown deepened. “Tristan?”

  Tristan sighed. “Stored in the bunker of each AI is a final resort or doomsday weapon. Part of the weapon is two black ships. Once in space the two ships and the planetary AI form a triangle. When they are activated, any living thing that passes through the triangle is destroyed. It’s possible to destroy all the crews in whole fleets at once.”

  “So why are two Guardians needed?” Aesia asked.

  “Because the weapon is too powerful to entrust to one Guardian. Two are required as a fail-safe.”

  “Tristan, you cannot risk Tristain. I won’t allow it!”

  “Aesia, I would not dream of suggesting it if there were too much risk. You will be with her all the time, out of sight of the fleet. If you sit quietly as a corner of the triangle, you should have nothing to worry about.”

  Aesia shook her head. “I’m unhappy with this, Tristan.”

  Tristan set his jaw and took a deep breath. “If we don’t do anything, a planet is destroyed. The Sicceian military will gain ascendancy over the administration, and the war will continue. I will have no option other than to ensure it is Sicceia that loses. Can you imagine the loss of life that will result?”

  Aesia clenched her fists on her lap. “You are putting me in an impossible position.”

  “Yes I know, I’m sorry, but it is not of my doing. Please remember that any problem and the AI will have you both out and safe in a moment.”

  “Providing you can get it going,” Aesia reminded him.

  “Yes, provided I can get it going.”

  Dionysia coughed “Excuse me, but we have a route plotted for you Guardian. We will transport you through ten planets and then, on the eleventh one, Penelope will transport you to Mylia. Once there however, we’ll be unable to get you out. You will be entombed under a hundred metres of rock.”

  Tristan looked at Aesia, who was watching him intently. Well?

  This is the only solution?

  Yes.

  Aesia inclined her head. “OK then, let’s do it.”

  “When the AI is online, I want you to transport Aesia and Tristain to me please.”

  “Yes Guardian.”

  “Now, I just need the battle suit with a maximum air supply. Enough to get to the core and start her up. I will also need a torch, besides the suit lights.”

  “Tristan, the suit is not designed to be operated without close AI support. The on board air supply would normally be replenished by the nearest AI.”

  “Then add a couple of external tanks please.”

  “You will still only get around two hours with the extra tanks.”

  “OK, if I can’t get her fixed in that time I never will.”

  Tristan dressed quickly and buckled on the armour belt.

  When he had finished, Aesia stood, put her hands on his shoulders, and kissed him hard on the mouth. “Just in case,” she whispered.

  “Are you ready, Tristan?” Dionysia asked.

  “Yes…no wait! What’s her name, the AI on Mylia?”

  “Cassiopeia,” Dionysia replied.

  “Right then, I’m ready.” Tristan unfolded his battle suit and felt a lurch. He was standing in a bright, bare room. Another lurch, another room, another, another…Tristan shot a thought: Penelope, wait!

  Yes Guardian, the emotionless female voice sounded in his head. Tristan folded back his helmet, fell to his knees, and was violently sick over the floor of the empty bright room. Penelope appeared in front of him. “Guardian, what’s wrong?” A couch appeared next to him. “Please sit for a moment.” Tristan was still retching, although there was nothing left. Finally, the nausea subsided. He rose and collapsed on the couch, folding his armour as he did so.

  “I’m sorry about the mess, Penelope,” he gasped. “So many transport jumps in quick succession made me sick.”

  “Guardian, that is not a problem.” The mess he had made on the floor disappeared.

  “May I have some water please?” A glass of water appeared on a small table next to the couch. Tristan drank the cool, fresh water. He sat for a while to make sure his stomach had recovered from the previous jumps. Penelope stood impassively at the end of the couch and waited, making no comment.

  Tristan stood and took a deep breath. The churning in his stomach had passed, and he could now do the final jump without heaving the water he had drunk over the inside of his helmet. He
unfolded his battle amour, checked the head-up displays were set to environmental monitor mode, and said, “OK, I’m ready.” One final lurch; this one seemed longer than the others. He was standing in total darkness except for the glow from his helmet.

  He switched on the suit lights and removed the torch from the pouch strapped to his leg. The suit environmental monitor told him there was no breathable air. He had two hours to locate the AI and get her to boot up. If he couldn’t it was all over. He looked around. Penelope had placed him in the hangar. Good girl, he thought. He ran over to the large oval building that housed the core and sent out a telepathic command. He sensed nothing! Oh fuck it!

  The AI training included the location of the core access panels but not much else. There should be two one on the side and one on the roof. Early versions had only roof access, but during the period the training course was produced all AI’s were being upgraded.

  He switched on the torch for extra light and carefully inched round the building, searching for a service hatch. There was nothing. The walls were even and smooth. He went back around in the opposite direction, still nothing. The roof is my last hope. Only there was no access to the roof, and even with the assistance of his suit, he did not think he could jump that high. He tried anyway; with the suit assistance set to maximum, he found he was a frustrating metre-and-a-half short. Panic started to tighten his chest. He took a deep breath and fought it back.

  He looked around, sweeping the torch light round the hangar. There were the two black ships, but they would be sealed, and he couldn’t gain access to them without the AI. He swept the hangar with the torch again. He had a niggling feeling he had missed something. “Of course!” The black ships had steps leading up to the access hatch. He ran to the nearest ship and pulled on the steps. He blew through pursed lips; they weren’t fixed!

 

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