The Shattering: Omnibus

by Van Allen Plexico

  Tamerlane shrugged. “I’d rather have them here and not need them, than have them stuck up on the Ascanius with the fate of all creation on the line down here.” He pulled five figures in particular out of the crowd. He nodded toward the first—a tall, gaunt figure with a hooked nose, wearing a crisp, white uniform. “Brother Regulus of the Ecclesiarchy,” he said. In response to Agrippa’s surprised reaction, Tamerlane quickly added, “Don’t worry—Regulus was on the outs with them, which means he’s pretty much the only one of that crowd I trust. He comes with Stanishur’s approval.” Next he gestured toward a tall, muscular figure to Regulus’s right. “This is Major Cassius, one of my best tactical officers.” Behind him came an even taller and even more muscular man, who stood beside a lithe, dark-haired woman. Both of them looked extremely dangerous. “These two are Major Titus Elaro and Colonel Niobe Arani. You might remember them from the events on Ahknaton.”

  Agrippa made a non-committal sound and shook hands with the four. He nodded toward Sister Delain of the Holy Inquisition, clad in her usual black robes and hood. The sister nodded back.

  A moment later, Tamerlane approached Solonis and extended a hand. “So—you’re the one who has been of such assistance to us.”

  Solonis gripped the hand almost curiously and held on as Tamerlane shook it.

  “He is also the one who sent Aurore to bring us into this affair in the first place,” Agrippa noted.

  “Ah.” Tamerlane looked sidelong at the dark-skinned god. “I trust this was all in a good cause, then,” he said. “A very good cause.”

  “The best, General,” Solonis said. “We are attempting to save the galaxy.”

  “From what?”

  Solonis hesitated and Agrippa sighed. Tamerlane looked from one to the other, puzzled.

  “We are not certain,” Agrippa stated, almost embarrassed to say it.

  Tamerlane blinked at this. “I understood you don’t know what to do to prevent the catastrophe,” he said, “but—you still don’t even know what—or whom—is responsible?”

  “To be fair, General,” Solonis said quickly, “I would remind you it has only been a matter of hours for General Agrippa and company.”

  Tamerlane didn’t appear terribly mollified by this. He clasped his hands behind his back and walked a short distance away. Then he noticed the Dyonari for the first time.

  “Arnem,” he said in a low voice, “we are now working with—?”

  Agrippa merely nodded. “Long story,” he muttered. “Not worth your time at present.”

  Now it was Tamerlane’s turn to exhale slowly. He brought a hand up and, eyes closed, rubbed at his forehead. “Very well,” he said. “I suppose there have been quite a few developments within the Empire while you have all been gone that will surprise you, too.” He faced Solonis squarely. “You are supposed to be the one here who has all the answers—or all the answers that are to be had. So—what do we do to, as you put it, save the galaxy?”

  The seer-god and Agrippa exchanged uncertain looks. Then Agrippa looked beyond Tamerlane to the crowd he’d brought with him. “You have artificial intelligence experts in your party?” he asked.

  Tamerlane nodded. “What do you need?”

  Agrippa pointed to the console nearby where the dead Dyonari had been found in the cushioned seat. The body had been removed and placed on the floor alongside the others. “Our only lead so far,” he said, and quickly explained how they had tracked the blood drops to this chamber, found three of the aliens dead on the floor, and the fourth having passed away while apparently attempting to do something to the controls.

  Tamerlane called for Major Cassius and ordered him to take a couple of experts and see what they could discern from that control panel. Then he turned to Agrippa and Solonis. “If it can be figured out, they’ll figure it out,” he said.

  “Good,” Agrippa said, though he didn’t sound convinced.

  “This is not over, General Tamerlane,” Solonis said in a quiet voice.

  “What do you mean?”

  “My leap into the future granted me no specifics,” the dark-skinned god replied, biting his lower lip. “But one thing that stands out as very clear to me is that the Dyonari were...” He hesitated, and when he resumed, he spoke in a very quiet voice. “...If not responsible, certainly instrumental in whatever happens.”

  Tamerlane looked at him. “Dyonari? Well.” He gestured toward the crowd of tall, spindly aliens, and his voice was filled with annoyance. “We have plenty of suspects to choose from. Any idea which one of them still finds a way to destroy the galaxy?”

  Solonis pursed his lips and appeared to be searching for an answer when Major Cassius shouted to them from the control station. “You need to see this, General.” He paused, then, “Generals.”

  “What is it, Cassius?” Tamerlane asked as the human officers gathered around the console.

  “Tell them what you told me,” Cassius ordered the two technicians who were now working at the controls.

  One of the techs was holding himself awkwardly to one side of the cushioned seat, attempting to avoid the pool of Dyonari blood that still filled it. He nodded toward a set of flashing red lights along the right side of the broad display panel. “An overload is building, sir. A malicious code has been partly introduced into the system. It’s a Dyonari code, but I recognize it.”

  Tamerlane and Agrippa exchanged concerned looks. “Malicious?” Tamerlane asked. “In what way?”

  “This is all difficult to read, sir,” the tech replied, “but I get the basics of it. It’s not all that complicated.” He pointed to the red lights. “The malicious code has been slowly opening all the conduits to the various power sources that are coordinated by this facility.”

  “Power sources?”

  “Vast power sources,” the tech reported.

  The second tech shook his head in astonishment. “Extremely vast—and that’s still putting it mildly.”

  “It appears to me this place is tied into a sort of network of nearby stars,” the first tech continued, “and is able to channel raw stellar energy.”

  “Good heavens,” Tamerlane whispered.

  “That’s not all,” the second tech said. “I heard someone say this place was connected to the Above, and I can definitely believe it. Because there are levels of cosmic power flowing through here that can’t be explained even by ripping open entire stars.”

  “Which, by the way,” the first tech added, “I think this facility could do, too.”

  “Where is it coming from?” Tamerlane asked. “This power?”

  The first tech tapped a display to his left; its markings were incomprehensible to the general but he didn’t announce that fact. “I’m not entirely sure, sir,” he said, “but a rift appears to have opened in spacetime just beyond the orbit of this planet’s moon. A stream of raw energy unlike anything I’ve ever seen before is pouring through it, from...somewhere else. And this facility is now channeling that power out into our universe.”

  Agrippa looked at Tamerlane and simply shook his big, blond head.

  “Can you shut it down?” Tamerlane asked. “Or block it somehow?”

  “I don’t know that anything we possess could block it, General,” the first tech answered. “But as to shutting down the system here that’s receiving and redirecting the energy back out—that, I believe we may be able to do, sir,” the first tech said.

  “I’ve already begun to remove the code,” the other technician added. “I assumed it was a safe bet you didn’t want it to continue.”

  Tamerlane laughed. “Yes,” he said, “you can safely assume that.” He turned to Agrippa. “Well. It’s easy to see why this place represented such a threat. That being said—if only all our problems could be solved this easily.”

  Agrippa bit back a retort with regard to “easily;” Tamerlane clearly had no idea what he and his men had gone through, including no sleep in what seemed like several days now. He gazed around at the chamber and then down at
the console with the catastrophically deadly coding that their men were removing now. “I would just as soon permanently seal this place off,” he replied. “Or simply destroy it.”

  “Do we even know what this facility is? What it’s for?”

  “No,” Agrippa said. “Does it matter?”

  Tamerlane shrugged. “Who can say?”

  Agrippa paused, then looked at Solonis. “Can you say?”

  The seer-god frowned, formulating a response. He opened his mouth to reply—and another deep, rumbling tone resounded throughout the chamber. Instantly everyone was on guard, weapons raised and ready.

  “Here,” called one of the Kings off to Agrippa’s right.

  Agrippa and Tamerlane led the others in the direction of the shout. There they saw a circular passage opening in the floor as a panel slid aside. A second later, one of the gray giants came rising up out of it, slowly and smoothly. The movement halted when the elevator-disc the giant stood upon reached the top and filled in the circular space. The tall, pale-skinned being in its odd, organic/technical gray spacesuit stood impassive, statue-like, towering over the other inhabitants in the room, gazing out at them all. Only its dark eyes moved.

  Tamerlane recognized the being instantly. “NM-156,” he gasped.

  “What?” asked Agrippa.

  “The barren world where I was doing clandestine work for the Emperor,” he answered. “My team and I entered a cave, of sorts, and several of these beings appeared—in holographic form. They seemed to be trying to communicate with us—to warn us of something, I think— but we couldn’t understand them. Then they vanished.”

  “A number of them attacked us when we first arrived here,” Agrippa stated. “I assure you—they were not holograms. They were very solid, very real.”

  Tamerlane looked at him in surprise, then nodded. “Your ‘other matters’ you were dealing with. Right.”

  Agrippa returned his gaze to the giant. As it had arisen, he had been looking around for signs of more of them, fearing another attack. This time it seemed things would be different. This time it appeared this was the only one making an appearance. Now, as the human and Dyonari forces formed a broad circle around the strange being, weapons aimed at it, Agrippa barked, “Hold your fire! He’s alone!” Tamerlane meanwhile gave the same order to his forces. The Dyonari all waited silently, hands on sword hilts.

  The giant turned in a slow circle, staring out at the collection of humans and Dyonari, seeming almost to be studying them. When it had moved in a full circle it stopped, and now its gaze rested upon Agrippa. And then it did something unexpected: It spoke. “You,” it said, loudly and clearly.

  Surprised, the blond general pointed at himself. “Me?”

  The giant said nothing for a few seconds, merely staring directly at Agrippa. Then it turned its attention to the two techs at the console. “You are removing the dangerous code. Excellent.”

  “You speak our language now,” Tamerlane said to the giant.

  “Yes. It has been downloaded.” The giant was silent for another few seconds, the tensions in the room high. Then it turned to face the crowd of spindly, glass-clad warriors. “All Dyonari must leave here at once.” It turned to its right and addressed the larger group there. “All humans must remain.”

  The Dyonari officers blinked at that and glanced at one another. No one moved.

  “All Dyonari must vacate the premises immediately,” the giant boomed again. “All humans must remain.”

  “When you say ‘remain,’” Tamerlane called to the big figure, “what sort of time frame do you have in mind?”

  “For a short time,” the giant replied. It turned back to face the aliens. “All Dyonari must vacate the premises immediately!”

  Agrippa moved closer to the Dyonari congregation. “You can wait outside if you wish,” he called to the three officers. “We will rejoin you as soon as we are able.”

  Merrin and Ralin looked to the High Commander, awaiting his order to withdraw. The High Commander in turn strode through the crowd of his warriors and over to the console where the two human technicians were removing the last of the malicious code.

  The gray giant watched him carefully. Solonis, meanwhile, suddenly frowned and leaned toward Agrippa, about to speak. He did not get the chance.

  “Move away,” the High Commander said to the two human techs. His voice was low but filled with the cold threat of violence.

  The technicians halted in their typing and looked up at the Dyonari commander, puzzled expressions on their faces. “Excuse me?” one of them said.

  The High Commander drew his long, curved sword and pointed it at their necks. “Move away from the console or I will kill you both,” he said, his voice still hard and even but louder.

  The two technicians didn’t bother to ask permission from Agrippa or Tamerlane. Not being hardcore fighters but artificial intelligence specialists, instantly they leapt from the two sides of the giant-shaped seat they had been awkwardly sharing and scrambled out of the way.

  Agrippa was already moving forward, shocked and angry, when the High Commander dropped into the seat and began to type on the console’s controls.

  “What do you think you’re—” the III Legion general began, but he was interrupted by the other Dyonari warriors moving forward, forming a solid line between their High Commander and the humans.

  Agrippa understood that much, at least. The leader had sent out telepathic signals, similar to their own Aether link, ordering his troops to protect him.

  “What’s your play here, High Commander?” Agrippa called. “We had resolved everything peacefully and were working together.”

  “I fear you are mistaken, General Agrippa,” the leader replied, never taking his eyes off the console or his hands off the controls. He was typing in code, and doing so much faster than the two human techs had been removing it. “We all have our missions to carry out, and I am now carrying out mine.”

  “Arnem,” came Tamerlane’s voice from just behind him. “What’s happening now? And—should we be taking action? Should I be taking action?”

  Agrippa understood what the other general meant; he possessed an organic flame power that he had gained during exposure to unexplainable cosmic forces in the Above and the Below, and he was prepared to unleash it. “Not just yet, General Tamerlane,” Agrippa replied formally. “I believe we can still work things out peacefully, and avoid launching yet another war between our species and the noble Dyonari.” He directed these words toward the High Commander as much as toward Tamerlane. “Isn’t that so, Commander?”

  “I fear you will be disappointed by the position I must take on this matter, General,” the High Commander responded, never hesitating in the slightest as he typed away. “But at least your days of warfare will be over, as will mine. We can, all of us, rest at last.” Behind him, the row of Dyonari warriors stood as still and rock-solid as statues carved of glass. “Move one step back, all of you,” the Commander ordered, and instantly the alien warriors did just that. A second later, a low hum filled the air.

  Frowning, Agrippa moved toward the space the warriors had vacated—but he never reached it. Instead he impacted something unseen. Raising his hands, he felt for it. For a few seconds he resembled a mime as he slid his gauntleted hands across the invisible surface of a wall that now separated the two armies.

  “He’s sealed them inside a force field,” Agrippa announced.

  “The overload builds again,” the gray giant boomed from the center of the chamber. “The console unit has been locked out. I cannot access it or deactivate it—nor can my master.” The giant turned slightly to its left and called out in its resonant voice, “Show me!”

  The center of the huge round room filled with the shimmering sparkle of what was easily recognizable to everyone present as a holographic display. It laid out all the stars of the galaxy in a broad, flat swirl of a billion tiny lights.

  Agrippa became aware that one of the lights—a star—was pulsing
brightly. He moved toward it; it was only a short distance from where he stood.

  “I’m not positive,” Tamerlane said, coming up behind him and looking at the flashing light, “but I think that’s the star this planet orbits.”

  As they watched, thin, faintly-glowing lines appeared, connecting that star to a dozen around it. Slowly the lines grew thicker, brighter, even as more faint lines spread out from those stars to an even larger number out beyond them. Within moments it appeared as if a spider’s web linked the stars. The faint lines radiated out again, now connecting many hundreds of stars. The central one, meanwhile, now pulsed so brightly it was almost impossible to look upon, and the glowing lines that radiated out from it were like laser beams in their intensity.

  “No,” the giant said, its voice faint at first but then much louder, more forceful, and almost desperate as it repeated, “NO!”

  15

  In high orbit above that unnamed world, the star cruiser Ascanius jolted into sudden and unexpectedly frantic action.

  Automated alarms had begun blaring in all areas of the ship several seconds earlier, and now Captain Dequoi sprinted out onto the bridge level, perplexed as to what could possibly be so wrong. He had scarcely taken three steps out from the travel tube and onto the bridge before he gained a relatively good idea of why the alarms were sounding. He stopped dead in his tracks and almost stumbled backward in shock.

  The entire front half of the circular bridge deck wall was a transparent steel/ceramic window. It currently displayed a spectacular view of the upper portion of the planet, nearly filling the bottom third of the window. Far beyond and in the upper left corner, the planet’s star was visible. When last Dequoi had occupied the bridge, just after the ship took up orbit and as General Tamerlane and his entourage were disembarking in the shuttle, that star had appeared perfectly normal; a faint, cool G2 yellow sun, similar to that of Earth.

  Now, however, everything had changed. The viewing angle remained as before, but what it revealed was nothing like Dequoi would ever have expected.