She looked down at him, but when she opened her mouth to respond she was immediately cut off.
“And you mutilated him before public eyes!” he snapped. His cape was tossed violently around his shoulder as he whipped around, the gust blowing back Sage’s hair. “What happened to secrecy? You are meant to operate in the shadows, not confront a cohort of my men on the streets! Thank the Ancients I was there, otherwise half the Hub would be in shambles.”
“I…” she began before choosing to look away. Fragments of what happened flashed through her mind. “There was a bomb in his limb.”
“And you decide to saw it off in plain sight?” Benjar raised the back of his hand to strike her, then froze. He inhaled deeply to regain his composure and flush the red from his cheeks. “Damned fanatics. Well it doesn’t matter anymore. The crisis was averted, but you can’t remain here.”
“What?” She was hoping that she heard him incorrectly.
“The entire city has heard about what you did! How many stunning woman like you do you think are running around New Terrene with pistols in their hands?” He sat down beside her again and ran the back of his fingers over her damp forehead. Then he shifted his tone to be more soothing as he continued, “You can’t very well function efficiently under these conditions.”
“But where would I go?” Tears began to well in the corner of Sage’s eyes. She assumed it was the damage to her implant that caused it to happen, because she couldn’t remember the last time she cried.
“On another assignment, while things here settle down.” He wiped her eyes with the end of his tunic. “You’re one of the best Executor’s we have. It breaks my heart, but we have no choice. You will traverse the Circuit to Ceres Prime. There you will pose as a dissident refugee from New Terrene in order to infiltrate the ranks of those Ceresian bastards. I want you to find out the truth behind the attacks on our freighters. There is a war coming, my dear, and I would not have us at a disadvantage.”
Ceres, she thought without responding. The lawless world where even the hopeful glimmer of the sun doesn’t shine through.
Benjar’s fingers slithered through the tangled strands of her hair as he began to gently cradle her head. “Can you do this for me, Sage? For all of the Tribune?”
Sage closed her eyes. She didn’t want to leave. New Terrene had been her home since she was a child, and she’d growing used to being able to see the sun outside. But she knew where her loyalties lied. “I will do what I must, Your Eminence,” she conceded. “We serve the same Spirit.”
“Excellent! May it guide you, always.”
Benjar leaned over, placing one more soulful kiss upon her still-moist lips. She fought back more of her irregular tears as he quickly turned to leave the room without another word, without even a second glance. When he was gone she lifted her artificial arm and ran the cold, unfeeling fingers around the rim of her mouth, her jaw quivering as she continued watching the door long after his departure.
CHAPTER ELEVEN—ADIM
Welcome to Old Terrene
ADIM lay flat in the narrow cockpit of the Shadow Chariot—a small ship designed to house little more than his own frame. It had the look of a headlong vulture. A ridge on top contained its small reactor, which powered the notched ion engines protruding off of the tail. Most of the chassis was as black as space itself, with illuminated slivers of red slicing down the length of its wings and converging at the tip of the tapered bow. It was the Creator’s earliest gift to ADIM and had stealth capabilities which were even more advanced than the White Hand’s.
The ship passed imperceptibly over the Earth’s moon. On the craterous surface white lights shone from a sprawling complex, one of four Tribunal Citadels throughout the Circuit and the seat of Tribune Cordo Yashan. Floating nearby above it was a station comprised of five massive rings with four, equally spaced inhabitable strips running along their edges like horizontal skyscrapers. It was one of the Conduit Stations; one of the gifts left behind by the Ancients before the Earth fell hundreds of years earlier.
From what ADIM had learned, the many factions of humans living in the Circuit each had their own beliefs about why the Earth died. For instance, the Tribune claimed it was the result of the sins of humankind, and that when they redeemed themselves the Earth would miraculously heal. ADIM only believed a single one of the stories.
According to Cassius, before the fall a group of Ancient researchers found that Gravitum, a new element discovered within the mantle of the Earth, could be used to generate substantial fields of artificial gravity when charged with very specific electrical currents. They began tearing at the surface of the planet, harvesting as much as they could find as quickly as possible. There was no need to find other worlds if they could build their own and have it simulate the conditions of Earth. They constructed the first Conduit Station above the Earth’s moon in order test the element in vacuum conditions. But they went too far. Eventually the planet couldn’t handle all of the abuse, and billions were killed when it rejected life, spitting up molten rocks and cracking across the surface.
With the world literally crumbling, the foolish men who dreamed of the stars were the last hope for humanity. Using the Moon’s Conduit Station they completed a series of solar-powered Arks as a hopeful effort to transport the remnants of humanity to a new, habitable world if they could find one. They never made it that far. Instead each ship was sent out, crammed with survivors and the materials needed to construct more Conduit Stations around the solar system.
By the beginning of the K.C. calendar, six of them were placed above the major settlements of the Circuit, from Earth’s moon to Uranus, successfully delivering mankind from the depths of the second Dark Age. The Solar Arks were set in continuous motion between them, distributing the resources each settlement offered—water, food, gases, minerals, and Gravitum. The Circuit was formed, reliant always on the Earth which had spurned humanity as if they were no more than insects.
Currently the Conduit hovering above the moon, which had once saved humanity from extinction, served as little more than a trading hub. Dozens of transports were flocking to and from the construction, and every so often, one of the massive Solar-Arks would race through its rings at a small fraction of light speed. They never slowed down. A complex system of gravity generators, magnets and moving parts would convey the cargo inside the vessels to and from the Arks in seconds.
This was not where ADIM was headed, however. He zipped by, his vessel too small to be noticed even with so many Tribunal ship’s nearby. His destination was Earth. Cassius had told him of the green pastures and blue skies it once had. What ADIM saw as he rounded the Earth’s Moon, however, was a desolate wasteland. The planet was trapped in a volcanic winter. The oceans were black like death and beneath the brown smog of its atmosphere ADIM could see only the incandescent red of molten rock carving furrows across the forsaken landscape.
It had become the essence of perdition. The air was festering with radiation and poisonous fumes, unlivable without wearing protective suits at all times. Even when wearing one, however, visitors still chanced the volatile nature of the surface. The planet’s plates were in a constant state of flux due to the excessive mining of the Ancients, resulting in violent earthquakes and unpredictable volcanic activity.
Humans were always dejected when they saw the planet, but like his Creator ADIM did not believe that the Earth could be restored. All he contemplated as he approached was when it was appropriate to update Cassius. He had been sent to recover schematics for the Plasmatic Drills used in digging Gravitum mines. The Tribune was in control of all of them, but there were few who knew exactly how they worked.
Creator, this unit is just outside of Earth’s orbit. ADIM decided to communicate to Cassius when he was only a couple thousand miles away. A few minutes passed without him receiving an answer. He slowed down. His creator was rarely late.
Sorry for the delay, ADIM. I was busy in the lab. The familiar sound of his Creator’s voice eased
his concerns. Try to be discreet with this. I would rather the Tribune know nothing about this little endeavor.
What if this unit is left with no other choice?
I leave it to your discretion. If lives must be taken, dispose of them swiftly. They’ll chalk it up to the ‘Vengeful nature of Earth.’ Be careful of that yourself…I’ve lost too many sons to that wasteland already.
ADIM paused. Just as he was about to respond, the bow of his ship brushed aside the billowy atmosphere of Earth. The signal grew muffled as a loud clap rang out and the Shadow Chariot was wreathed in flame.
Creator, are you there?
I…I’m losing you…I’ll see…ADIM…Good Luck.
The silence came and was as jarring as ever. ADIM would’ve turned around to finish the conversation, but he couldn’t. It was rare when his awareness was hampered enough to distract him, but as he plummeted through the stratosphere it took him a few moments to regain control.
Son. This unit is a son? ADIM pondered to himself, looking down at his arm as his Holo-Projectors cast the image of human skin up the limb. It could’ve just been a manner of human speech which he didn’t yet understand, but the Creator had never referred to him in such a way. This unit must ask the Creator if a son, by definition, must be human.
The Shadow Chariot pierced Earth’s grim veil while he contemplated the notion. He pulled up to extend laterally over an expanse of dark water far as the eye could see. Violent waves crested with relentless frequency and hewed foam across the ocean like it were the mouth of an incensed beast. ADIM kept his ship at a low altitude, weaving a path over the liquid as he headed for the continent looming at the far end of the hazy horizon. Nobody was in sight…not a ship, not a station. If he had been seen, the Tribune would already be on him, but he was never seen. With a few blasts from the reverse thrusters, he guided the ship to a gentle landing atop a low bluff.
The cockpit lifted back and the circuits linked to his forearms disconnected. He carefully switched down the engine and pulled a thicker chord out from his chest. The ship’s reactor-core was undersized in order to keep the Shadow Chariot as small a possible, so Cassius designed it to latch onto ADIM’s, like a symbiotic being. Together they formed a Duel-Reactor-Ion-Engine, which made it unusable for anybody, or anything else.
ADIM vaulted over the side id the ship once he was completely disconnected, the hard, frozen dirt cracking beneath his feet. A stifling gloom hung all around him, unlike any sort of night the other planets throughout the Circuit could muster. The stars were imperceptible. Only the silhouette of the moon could be seen, shining faintly as it rose like a faded skull. He switched his vision to infrared and began sprinting across the countryside.
There was nothing. A few patches of petrified forests here, some rubble there, but nothing worth slowing down to analyze. It was hard for him to consider that the stumps once held life. There were no heat signatures anymore, no cities with innumerable towers and with vehicles whizzing over paved streets. In half a millennium, no human had walked the Earth without an enviro-suit for long and lived to talk about it. It was his first time ever visiting the Human homeworld, but to him it was as lifeless as any other world within the Circuit naturally was. He began to realize that even though it had fostered its creations for more ages than he knew to exist, in the end it was as expendable as an obsolete ship.
When he came over a low hill, a group of heat signatures popped up. He was about a quarter mile out, but he had arrived at the N.A.412 Drilling Site right on schedule. He kneeled down at the summit and scanned the horizon.
A tremendous assembly sat in the clearing; an island of dim light within the oppressive darkness. The drill itself was a thick cylinder of layered shells which pumped out of the base, lowering its plasmatic tip deeper and deeper into the gaping crevice over which it hung. At the top of it was a sphere of offset rings that rotated feverishly around a radiant, red reactor core much like ADIM's but larger. Three towering, metal arms rose up like a tripod to support it all, rising past the reactor core in order to hoist up a boxy structure which not only served as living quarters for those who worked the mine, but that was fitted with jets underneath. In case of volcanic activity rupturing the excavation site it could lift off and safely carry the drill away. The drills had been built by the Ancients, and the Tribune fiercely guarded them so that they couldn’t be destroyed or reproduced.
Anti-air artillery was positioned on the ridge adjacent to ADIM’s position. It posed no threat, but there was a time before he was constructed when Earth was contested; when the Tribune and the Ceresian Pact waged a war over who would control their homeworld. The Earth Reclaimer Wars came and went, and in their aftermath only the Tribune remained in control.
ADIM approached the site, pulling up behind the turret. There were scanners left over from the war as well, but they were only searching for traces of life. The only thing ADIM had to worry about were the three, lumbering Combat Mechs patrolling the vicinity. The planet decided to offer him some help.
In the distance, molten rock began oozing out of a tall peak, glowing vibrantly like a trail of rubies where all else was obscured. He waited for a moment until the ground started to rumble from seismic activity. The timing was perfect. Each of the Mechs turned to observe the minor eruption. ADIM sprinted down the hill after they did and laid down in between the legs of the nearest one. Being that close would make his heat signature nearly imperceptible.
ADIM’s enhanced auditory senses were able to pick up the pilot inside speaking to the others over his radio. “How long you think this hole will last?” he said.
The Mech began to move with heavy steps that made the ground shudder even more intensely. ADIM sleuthed along, staying directly beneath it as it neared the chasm.
“I give it a month,” another pilot responded. “Can’t wait to get off this rock. Homeworld my ass. Give me the clean, glass sky of New Terrene any day.”
ADIM sprawled out and wrapped his limbs around one of the drill’s massive supports once he was close enough. He activated the magnets on his hands and feet in order to remain secure against it. Then he waited, making sure that none of the other Mechs took notice. A few mining bots scurried down the drill into the impossible depths of the mine like spiders down a web. They wouldn’t be a problem. They were inferior robotic constructs, built to perform only menial tasks.
There were lifts built into the outward facing surface of the cambered columns holding the drill which ADIM could take up to the living quarters, but the risk of human contact was far too great. He waited until all of the Mechs were at a safe distance and then began to climb the column, until all that was beneath him was an endless chasm. If he wasn’t careful, even he could risk burning up down in the center of the Earth.
After a long ascent he arrived at the base of the living quarters. The noise emitted by the layers of the drill rising and falling would be deafening to human ears. The fusion core directly above it whirred, the rings around it revolving so fast they could cleave a man in half. Completely upside down, he crawled along the living quarter’s underside towards the core. If he could heave himself toward the rotating blades and demagnetize in time to pass through he would have direct access to the drill’s computer. But it would have to be perfect.
He got as close as he could, hung down by one arm and began to swing himself. One Revolution, he thought. Two Revolutions. Three. Four…263 Milliseconds between. The lights around his eyes whirled rapidly as he counted, and then, without hesitation, he flung himself. His torso was barely able to twist through the narrow space between the blades. The lower parts of his legs were slapped with such force that he was shot across the circular platform inside. When his imaging systems settled he scanned his lower limbs for damage. The exterior plating there was merely dented.
The interior of the core was equally chaotic. The central core was comprised of even more revolving plates, all of them surrounding the smoldering, reddish-orange reactor. Thick circuits draped from it an
d wove along the grated platform toward more churning gears and blades below. The heat was enough to boil a human unless they were wearing a highly protective suit. It was no threat to ADIM.
He got to his feet and approached the command console at the base of the core. A HOLO-Screen popped up, prompting him to enter a password. As the Creator had figured, the Drills controls were reserved for specialized Tribunal engineers in the case of a malfunction. That was a rare occurrence, so ADIM had all the time in the world to work.
Spreading his fingers wide, he placed them over the command console. Even the Tribune’s most complicated encryptions were as simple to crack for him as slicing paper was with a knife. The screen flickered and his eyes began to stir. Data streamed through him. It took only a few minutes, and when he pulled back every ounce of information on what constituted Earth’s Ancient Plasmatic Drills was transmitted.
ADIM backed away and the screen faded. It was all too easy. The Creator will be pleased that there were no casualties, he thought as he grasped the base of the ladder and plotted his departure.
CHAPTER TWELVE—SAGE VOLUS
Binding Vows
Sage Volus waited in a seat on the main-tram rising up Pavonis Mons. Not too many people were heading to the Mars Conduit Station that morning. It was mostly empty. She stared blankly out of the window, watching as the smooth, ruddy landscape rolled by. She hadn’t ever lived anywhere else in the Circuit for long. Missions had taken her to almost every Tribunal settlement in existence, but for the majority all of her twenty-six years of life, she had dwelled in the warrens below the city. Now she was being forced to leave despite saving thousands of innocent lives.
It was the path she chose, however. Nobody ever told her the life of an Executor would be easy. In fact, when she walked the surface of Earth eight years earlier in order to take her vows death seemed all too enticing to her. She had recently lost the only man she ever loved. That seemed like ages ago to her though. Her memory of him had grown so distant that she could barely picture his face. She couldn’t even remember the last time he’d popped into her head, and immediately shoved the thought to the back of her mind.
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