by Lee Bond
Trinity paused, reflecting on the damages that could be done, weighing Its desperation to keep Naoko out of Jordan’s hands versus ensuring the survival of It’s other appallingly important assets. “Maybe … maybe only one of you should go. Whoever is closest.”
***
To say that all the worlds in all the solar systems in all the galaxies in the Unreality kept vigilant watch on the skies for the presence of Enforcers is to diminish the amount of effort expended by those who had cause to fear the machine mind’s relentless and veritably godlike ‘employees’.
Even across The Cordon, where Enforcers rarely went until things had been suitably softened up by Deep Strike teams sent in by Special Services, the strange and the weird versions of Man that lived out there kept their various forms of eye peeled for deadly men and women in combat armor unlike anything ever dreamed of before.
Trinity Itself insisted to the men and women and Offworlders under It’s dominion that those who had nothing to fear, those who did the right thing –or, at the very least, were doings things It didn’t really care about one way or the other- had no reason to worry that an Enforcer would fall on them. Enforcers, It said in that special tone of voice It used when It was talking to people It thought were stupid, were Omega-Level Deterrents. They were used to send messages to entire galaxies. They were used to burn away enemies so powerful, so dark, so evil, that all of Existence trembled at their presence.
Enforcers, It insisted, weren’t flung around willy-nilly. They were too precious a resource to use for things better left to Its normal agencies.
Trinity’s staunchest human supporters, and there were many, trillions upon trillions of Men who believed that the machine mind was doing the right thing by them and would always continue to do so, nodded at their ruler’s statements and then quietly continued keeping watch anyways, knowing in their heart of hearts that they had a very small basis for comparison on what Trinity would and would not do.
Old Earth, Trinity Prime, Zanzibar … the birthplace of Humanity had been told time and again by Trinity and others that this one world, abused and bruised and aging badly, would never see the face of an Enforcer, that It would find other means to punish and enforce It’s Laws, if for no other reason than it would take little in the way of damage to shove the ailing planet right over the edge.
With people like Jordan Bishop, Mad Goth King Blake, Emperor-for-Life Etienne Marseilles and others living there, though … Enforcer-sensing tech had been taken to levels not seen anywhere else in the Unreality.
To those tasked with watching the ether for Enforcer-sign, it was like the sun had gone nova.
Then they began quietly freaking out, then loudly freaking out, sending emergency messages to anyone and everyone who’d hired or conscripted them into keeping watch for Enforcers. The message was simple:
‘Stop fucking around and go hide, Gwyleh Ronn is here.’
***
Gwyleh Ronn, Legendary Offworld Enforcer, the only one of his kind, didn’t like Humanity. He –for he was certainly a he- hated the plague that was Mankind, hated their rapacious hunger for land, food, equipment, everything. He, and all his kind –the Empator-Tyrene- had tried to wipe Humanity out several times, always being stopped in the end by Mankind’s ruthless proctor, Trinity Itself. Eventually, they’d all died out, as all things must.
Gwyleh Ronn respected the machine mind. All the Empator had. The artificial intelligence was the closest thing to a God they’d ever encountered, and they were one of the oldest Offworld species in existence. If there was a God, they’d’ve run into Him, Her or It in the passage of time. At least until Trinity had shut them into their own collection of solar systems with the flip of an electronic switch.
Unlike his brothers and sisters of the Empator-Tyrene, though, Gwyleh Ronn had also hated his own people, which was saying something because the E-T’s were a social hivemind. Telepathic to a surprising degree, empathic even more, living on an Empator-Tyrene world had meant being surrounded by love, security, knowledge, and complete assurance that what you were doing was the right thing, all the time, every day, day in, day out, until the end of your life. They hadn’t been peaceful, mind, just … supremely arrogant that they were better, smarter … more.
Gwyleh was an aberration. He hadn’t liked feeling warm, had hated being loved, hated …
Yes. Gwyleh Ronn hated everything. Decades ago, when he’d gotten bored with life and had needed an outlet, he’d visited Empator-Tyrene to scare the living shit out of his race by moving moons out of orbit for a few hours, making lakes disappear, turning off their telepathy, reversing their empathy.
Just because you were an Enforcer didn’t mean you couldn’t let off some steam.
Enforcer Gwyleh Ronn of the Empator-Tyrene looked down at the birthplace of the scourge that was Mankind and nodded, his pincers clicking and clacking as Trinity’s data flooded into his mind. This would be fun, this would be easy.
Jordan Bishop was finally going to get what was coming; if there was one thing that the Enforcer hated more than regular people, it was beings like Jordan Bishop, who thought they were God. Gwyleh headed on down, ready to start blowing stuff up and killing folks.
***
Chad was fond of leaning against things. It added to his … what’sit … nonchalance. Yes, that was the word. He was fond of seeming nonchalant these days. Chad hummed thoughtfully to himself as Naoko’s vessel descended ever so gently to the landing pad some few hundred feet below where he leaned.
The air shifted a bit and one of the ‘Priests stood beside him, holding precariously to the side of the exhaust tower that he’d teleported to. “Why,”Secant279 demanded with his metallic, static voice, “are you all the way up here? The woman is going to be down there.”
“Oi,” Chad flicked his cigarette over the edge and watched it disappear, “mate. I is not askin’ you why you is soundin’ like a telly wot is on channel zero, yeah? ‘sides,” the assassin straightened non-existence collars on an imaginary shirt, “this is wot fellas as is doin’ wot I is goin’ to do before they is properly doin’ what they is about to do. ‘s called … well, I is not knowin’ the proper word for it, orl right, but it’s a fing that I do. If my life was a movie an’ people were watchin’ right this moment, they’d be all ‘cor blimey, ‘e’s pretty cool, yeah?’. All up high and wotnot, wiv the smoke from this here stack billowin’ up, the spaceship wiv all it’s twinkly lights floatin’ down. ‘s very … spectacular.”
“Yes, well.” Secant279 dismissed virtually everything Chad said. “There’s been a development.”
“Yep.” Chad nodded. “Enforcer.”
“What…” The CyberPriest’s mouth twitched in confusion.
Chad rolled his eyes. “You is creatin’ me and you is finkin’ I ain’t gonna pick up on the same fings as you lot? Lord ‘ave mercy.”
“We…” Chad had never showed much interest in, or even awareness of, the deeper levels of operational software available to the ‘Priests; unlike the man’s own abilities, which were fantastic, there were some functions only available when directly accessing their version of the Harmony. “You…”
“Yep. Look. You silly twats are just goin’ ter ‘ave ter get used to the fact that we … hah, sorry mate, it ‘appens from time to time. Anyways, er. Wot? Yeah. Right. Look. I is not likin’ you twats, nor is I likin’ this Harmony bullshit very much at all, but I will use wot I can when I need, yeah? Only fing I is not doin’ is runnin’ around like you lot. So. Yeah. Enforcer. The nasty Offworld one. Glad you came. Call the others. I is needin’ distractions.”
“But … that will reveal ourselves to It.”
“We ain’t got time to argue the point, my son. The Enforcer’s comin’, Jordan’s got enough AI presence focused on this area to spontaneously create a new fuckin’ type of AI, there’re more FrancoBrit fuckfaces in the surrounding perimeter to kickstart a fuckin’ civil war, Spur’s lurkin’ down there which means we is missin’ an entire bloody a
rmy of EuroJapanese ninjas … we is all goin’ ter be lucky if a black hole don’t open up an’ swallow us all. This is … what der yer call it when it’s all critical an’ shit an’ everyfing can go every which way?”
“An event horizon?” Secant279 whispered. Their Savior was right. From this moment forward, no matter what actually happened, everything was going to change. The Enlightningment hadn’t prepared any of them for this. The Unwritten Scriptures, trapped in Chad’s head, could offer them no solutions.
“That’s it. Cor, I should ‘ave you around more often. You is knowin’ some dandy fings. Right then, you get your silly-ass brothers around and we’ll do this thing.”
“They are on their way.”
Chad nodded one last time, then stepped off the side of the stack. It were going ter be well sick and awesome when he hit the ground. Everyone down there was likely to stop wot they was doin’ and just applaud at his grand arrival. Awesome music swelled in his ears. He stopped falling as something occurred to him. He started shouting until the CyberPriest stuck his head over the side. “Oi. Mate. I is forgettin’ one fing.”
“What is that, Chadsik al-Taryin?” Secant279 couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was their annoying Savior had forgotten to mention. It could be anything ranging from the fact that he liked butterflies to a rambling story about the time he’d worn a woman’s head on his hand like a puppet.
“Erm. Like, a lot of the buildings in this area are, erm, well, they is goin’ ter be … fallin’ down, like. Wiv … explosions and fings. I is not knowin’ ‘ow resilient you lot is to several hundred berjillion tons of falling building landing on top o’ you, so … watch out.” Chad resumed his majestic and, dare he say it, angelic descent to the ground below.
Secant279 covered his eyes for a moment. The loss of life, the destruction of property, none of that bothered him or the others; their plan, after all, was to eradicate not only life in their blasted Unreality but all life in the other, proper Spheres.
No, what bothered them all was the man’s delusions of grandeur. That, and the fact that no matter how deluded Chadsik al-Taryin was, he nevertheless possessed the abilities to do whatever it was that he damned well pleased.
Curiosity got the better of the CyberPriest. “Why so many explosives? Why kill all those mortals when you don’t need to?”
“Worl,” Chad said thoughtfully, “it’s like this. Each of those buildings are stuffed full o’ laser cannons and missile launchers and fings like that, right? All there to protect the girl, I suspect. I mean, sure, I could waltz in there, yeah, and do the job wivvout too much bovver, but I is only just findin’ this jacket. I would be well pissed if it got a hole in it. Well, see ya later, son.”
Secant279 beamed the warning to his brothers and prepared to do … whatever it was they needed to do to ensure that Chad got away with their prize.
***
Greuz and the others sighed happily as they stepped off the gantry and onto actual, solid ground. It was the first time they’d been on a planet since Hospitalis, and though each man and woman was a pirate born to live amongst the stars, there were times where they ached to have a sky above their heads and earth –however far below their actual, aching bones- beneath their toes.
“Well,” Captain Greuz of The Zhivago said with as much mustered bonhomie as he was ever likely to find again, “isn’t this nice. On the birthplace world of all Mankind. Must be exciting, hey?”
Naoko wrinkled her nose. Zanzibar, as Alligorni had called it the few times he’d forgotten he was terrified of her, stank like a sewer left open and under the sun for too long. The buildings were megalithic, making the structures on Hospitalis look positively tiny, but the scope of them was all wrong; her eyes picked out windows and doorframes that, because the size of each building reminded her of home, looked poorly built. As she stood there, taking in what was to be her new home for who knew how long, delicate ears picked up an endless cavalcade of sounds alien and foreign. There were sirens and catcalls, massive, chunking thunks, bursts of … yes, even gunfire.
“Erm.” Greuz looked nervously at his crew, who looked back, faces pale and nervous. “Yes, well, Miss Kamagana, it’s been a real honor but …”
“Fuck this noise in its fucking ass, Greuz. We bounce.” Alligorni ran back towards the ship, Seta and Sandlak hot on his heels. Greuz looked over his shoulder, looking forlornly at Naoko; they were supposed to wait for Spur’s men to arrive, but … he couldn’t do it. He wanted to be free from all this intrigue and strangeness. He wanted to get back to the simple things in life, like kidnapping regular geniuses instead of blisteringly intelligent supergeniuses with night-terror-inducing boyfriends. Greuz dashed off to join his crew.
The Zhivago lurched upwards like a drunken, obese sparrow a few seconds later.
Naoko wrinkled her nose. She was certain this wasn’t how these sorts of exchanges were supposed to go.
And then the world filled with crackling thunder. As the Latelian stood there, wondering where her guards were, four of five of the mountainous spires that housed –at best estimate- hundreds of thousands of people each, buckled under some internal pressure and belched tremendous gouts of fire into the air before … before sliding free of their bases to tumble out of view. More fire and sounds that filled the heavens surrounded Naoko.
Naoko stood there, blinking. This couldn’t be Garth. As vengeful as he was, as much of a master of war and destruction as he was, this wasn’t his style. He wouldn’t kill so many, destroy so much, all for her, mostly because he knew she’d be angry if he did.
This was someone else altogether.
The fifth building erupted, shattering into splinters of glass, metal and people.
“Oi, now, that were well brilliant.” Chad hit the ground in a classic three point landing and stood, smoothing out his long black coat and bowing old-fashioned court style before the Lady Ha, she who was Naoko Kamagana when she was at home with the lights out. He still couldn’t see what all the fuss was about. Too tall or summink. Or was it the hair? Chad shook th… his head. Didn’t matter. He had a Job to do, one which would hopefully get the bruvvers off his arse.
Naoko shrieked and tried to run, but two odd looking men appeared out of nowhere and grabbed hold of her upper arms. They began tingling immediately and a weird, loathsome sensation tried to crawl into her brain. All thoughts of running disappeared, as did the urge to free herself.
Chad nodded. Everything was going according to the plan he’d hastily concocted a few moments after Ohm239 had given him the ‘job’. The most important thing had been the destruction of the surrounding buildings; only part of him had wanted to preserve the vintage flight 42nd century long coat from coming to harm. Most of him had done such a horrific deed simply out of spite. If Jordan Bishop hadn’t decided to destroy Garth Nickels, and Spur hadn’t approached him to be the arbiter of that destruction, why, his whole world would be entirely different than it was now. That, and because he was desperate to be left alone.
Staring at Naoko, Chad wished desperately that he’d never gone to Hospitalis. The things he’d learned, the things he’d done, the … the thing he’d become … you simply didn’t come back from that.
“The EuroJapanese android is attempting to breach Trinity’s Restrictions.” One of the ‘Priests announced suddenly. Naoko still stood there, mute, dumb, slack-jawed.
“If you lot ‘adn't already gone to great lengths to prove that you’re invulnerable and massive assholes, I would be quite convinced you is frightened of the fing.” Chad tilted and craned his head, trying to find the channel the ‘Priest had used to detect the humanoid machine. He failed.
“Is ‘e alive still?”
One of the ‘Priests nodded after a few seconds. “He is.”
Chad poked Naoko in the shoulder. She didn’t as much as flinch. “In a condition to bovver us, then, is he?”
The two ‘Priests exchanged dubious glances. Spur was difficult to outguess. “Unknown.”
&
nbsp; Chad crossed his arms huffily. He didn’t like this at all. Not one bit. He didn’t know nuffink about Spur and the thought of having a mystery chase him around was one that didn’t sit well with none of him.
***
Spur was … Spur was … Spur was … terrified. His massive, ancient, powerful mind was incapable of processing what to do next and even in his terror, even in his incapacity, he berated himself as only a true EuroJapanese citizen could.
In all his years of imprisonment in Jordan Bishop’s main complexes, throughout the long, dark decades of Dark Ages, never had anything like this happened to him. Never once had his home been destroyed, never once had he been –accidentally or otherwise- past the furthermost perimeter of Trinity’s Restrictions.
Until now. Intimately connected with all of Jordan’s AI constructs, Spur could map out perfect accuracy the length and breadth of Bishop’s Domain. He knew every inch, every door. And when Jordan Bishop acquired more land, more space, why, it was then that Spur was his most happiest, for it meant opportunity for his eyes to fall on new space, for his feet to cross new land.
Trinity’s Restrictions were most clear on the subject. As an impossible thing in total contravention of Its Rules, Spur was too rare to destroy, but so too was he not permitted to pass the border of BishopCo’s domain.
Until now.
Too late had the android figured out what was happening. The first eruption had startled him, and the others had prompted him to do the only thing he could do; instantly recognizing Chadsik al-Taryin as the figure at the landing pad and tying him to the callous –yet tactically sound- destruction of all the surrounding buildings, Spur had timed his audacious attempt at survival to coincide as close to detonation as possible so that the FrancoBritish assassin and his bizarre assistants would assume him destroyed along with the rest.
