Weird Tales About the End
Page 3
The Prince smiled. “You must therefore have also concluded that we shall conduct two transfusions as soon as practicable. I shall be the first to subject myself to the cleansing power of your precious blood.”
3Maggie said, “The odds against the Emperor getting a transfusion increase proportionately.” She meant by this to criticize the Prince for wanting to be in a position to remove his father from the throne.
The Princess, who had been listening to the interview of the Prince with 3Maggie, entered the space and said, “High treason! Brother, I arrest you and forbid your using the blood of this 3Maggie since that would ensure the perfection of your perfidious scheme. “
She turned to the armed men who accompanied her and said, “Guards, you will keep my brother under guard in this place until my father the Emperor determines what is to become of him. As for you, 3Maggie, you will come with me to see the Emperor.”
The Princess was confident that she had sprung the trap on a devious plot to remove her father from the imperial throne. By denying her brother the transfusion, she thought she was going to interdict the plot. By taking 3Maggie to the Emperor, she thought she was going to provide him with the cure that would guarantee both his future and hers.
3Maggie and the Princess travelled to the secret location of the Emperor where medical preparations had been made in advance for his transfusion. The Princess instructed the physicians to arrange for a transfusion for both her and her father. As a result, 3Maggie’s blood was used to flush the blood from the father and eldest daughter simultaneously.
As the three recovered from their procedure, 3Maggie asked to be escorted into the presence of the Emperor to discuss a matter of mortal implications.
“Your Highness, I praise you for your foresight. I am glad to have been of service to you and your family through my blood. May I ask what my reward will be?”
“3Maggie, how could such priceless service eventuate in anything less than your immediate death. Do you have anything to say before I deliver you to my guards for execution?”
3Maggie laughed. “Your Highness, you must be joking! Surely, you have the wit to know when you have been outflanked by your subjects.”
The Emperor blushed bright red. “My physicians have concurred in every step of the procedure designed to flush my system of the fatal virus.”
“Yes, and your daughter has been similarly purged of the virus, am I right?”
“That is so. Why do you find this funny? I’m sure you won’t be laughing when the executioner’s ax falls on your neck.”
3Maggie said, “Sire, your having accepted my vital fluids into your veins assures your death within three Earth months. Your daughter will be similarly affected. There is no reversal. The effects are inexorable, even if you should choose to pray to escape your fate.”
“So your blood was the real poison, and the so-called virus was a placebo?”
“Yea, verily, your Highness. How you could have been such a simpleton to fall for the stratagem, I don’t know.”
The Emperor shook his head. “Does my eldest son know the truth of this?”
“He is completely innocent.”
“Still, he shall die, as everyone who had anything to do with your conveyance to me shall die.”
“What will be proved by those measures?”
“Any who strike against my sacred majesty shall perish. That is the lesson for perpetuity. I shall not step back from that premise.”
3Maggie nodded. “Know then that the Prince is already destined to die. He did not need to have the transfusion that you and your daughter have experienced. The virus he already has within him will serve to kill him and all those who have come in contact with him. As for your medical staff and your court, all shall suffer from the contagious disease. The virulence of this pest is such that it will rapidly proliferate throughout the Galactic Empire. No one will be safe.”
The Empire’s eyes got an evil glare. He called for his daughter and replayed for her the recordings of all that 3Maggie had said. Then he ordered his own daughter to be slaughtered slowly so that she would remain alive, though in intense pain, until the life was extinguished from her body.
3Maggie was sickened by witnessing the effects of the disease and the torture or the Princess. But the death of the Emperor’s eldest daughter was only the beginning. The imperial subjects began to die by the thousands. The Prince communicated with his father when both were writhing in the throes of the disease. He asked specifically to talk with 3Maggie, but she admitted that she had no control over the course of the events she had unleashed. The Prince died in extreme agony while 3Maggie watched helpless.
The Emperor, who sickened and lay on his deathbed, wanted to see 3Maggie die in agony, slowly, in his bed chamber. His guards stripped 3Maggie naked and bound her to a gurney where they systematically removed her limbs and organs. 3Maggie laughed through the ordeal even when the Emperor thought nothing in the universe could withstand such exquisite pain. Thus, he was disappointed when even her smiling eyes refused to wince as they were removed.
As for the Emperor, he too died in agony, bellowing at the top of his voice for retribution. None of his remaining children mourned. None of them rushed to his bedside to comfort him in his distress. All were afraid they would become victims of the plague.
The last act of 3Maggie before the final signs of life left her body was to send her final message to the resistance headquarters: “Mission Accomplished.” The imperial forces were uncertain how to strike the receivers of the message since the resistance forces were too well hidden from long experience.
Manny Farstar saw to it that 3Maggie was awarded the highest medal for selfless bravery. Afterward, he maintained that she was the model for all heroic figures in the waning days of the Galactic Empire.
“She saw her duty clearly, and now she is gone.” Yet, Farstar was far to practical a man to let the loss of one agent stand in the way of his lifelong mission to destroy the evil Empire. He had another 3Maggie fashioned, an upgrade to her sister unit. It was not that she surpassed her predecessor in beauty or raw functionality; instead, she had certain computational skills and implanted memories that made the Edgemaster feel as if his former companion still lived and worked with him.
Farstar also told the story of his former 3Maggie repeatedly so the new-model artificial intelligence understood how much he had valued her.
“So you still miss her?” the new 3Maggie asked as they sped through the universe.
“Yes, I miss her. She was unlike any companion I’ve ever had.”
The 3Maggie’s eyes brightened. “You must allow me to do what I can to replace her in your memory.”
Farstar did not dissuade her from her objective. In the vast, cold wasteland of space, they made love as they could. Each time, she looked at him to register how she had measured up. Each time, he would shake his head and smile wistfully. She resolved to try harder next time. Though he never forgot his former companion, he had to admit that his new partner came up with pleasurable moments he had never known before.
As fate determined, he had almost brought his new unit to the stage of familiarity of the old one when he was forced to send his 3Maggie on another impossible mission against the evil Empire.
“I sincerely regret having to send you on a mission from which you are unlikely to return.”
She smiled. “I sense you have been forced to give the same kind of order before—to my predecessor, perhaps?”
“Can you understand why as a human I am reluctant to do this?”
3Maggie shook her head. “Can you believe that I’ve grown to know you better than you know yourself? And I too regret the possibility I’ll never see you again.”
“How do you know that, 3Maggie?”
“I just know it. Isn’t that enough of a reason? Whether it does or not, it hardly matters to me. Let’s go back to your cabin and work it out physically. What do you say?”
“I say we have two hours before you laun
ch. Until then, we’ll make wild, glorious sex together, as if for the last time in the universe.”
Manny Farstar’s Dream
The cloudless sky should have been the tip-off, but Manny was not thinking straight. He lay back in the tepid pool and watched the queen palm’s fronds sway gently in the wind. He found the sunshine on his back pleasant and warm. His long arms were spread against the pool’s deck, his right-hand fingers wrapped around a non-alcoholic drink—Earth grass, he thought, fresh and sweet. The spa’s attendants were fawning all over him, but the more they pressed against him and plied him with hors d’oeuvres, the less he wanted to feel or eat. All he wanted was his old, familiar 3Maggie AI companion, not her replacement but the original. That was not to be.
The Galactic Edgemaster, as Farstar was styled in those days before he became the Universal Edgemaster on account of his work for Admiral Loc Phuket, was recuperating from having sent his beloved 3Maggie on an impossible mission to wreak havoc in the imperial family. She had accomplished her mission at the cost of her life. Farstar had no idea how hard her loss would hit him. She was only a robot with unmatchable software. Yet he had loved her to distraction. All he could think of was revenge, but she had destroyed the entities he wanted to kill slowly, with extreme prejudice. The more he dwelled on feeling sorry for himself, the darker his surroundings became.
As if through a rising din, he heard a distant cry of battle. Focusing hard on the rallying cry, he heard his name: “Farstar, this is Graybeard, over.” On the third repeat, Farstar saw the blue sky turn to black, and his drink became a communication device. Above, the palm had become a squid copter. The formerly halcyon pool of water had turned to blood.
“Graybeard, this is Farstar, over.” The warrior in him felt for his armor and weapons. In his left hand was a long, curved knife, which neatly sliced through a tentacle aimed at his throat. The spa had become a killing field. The wait staff had become assassins wanting to pierce out his life. He shrugged and fought while he waited for instructions. Graybeard was like a father to him. Besides, he owed the figure his life many times over.
A waif who had licked his ear now tried to plunge her dagger into his neck, but he grabbed her dainty wrist and snapped it sideways. She shrieked and shook her useless hand before his upward thrust cut her from the loins to the throat. Her blood and gore joined the liquid in the pool as Manny waded to the edge, slicing to the left and right as he strode. He was like a colossus when he found his laser rangefinder, the device by which he would highlight targets.
“Farstar, this is Graybeard. How long are you going to dilly dally in that ersatz spa? You have work to do, and I have little time.”
“Graybeard, this is Farstar, I will be free to spot for air assets once I make the entrance. That will be in FIVE, FOUR, THREE, TWO, ONE. I’m ready for assignment.”
The Graybeard did not hesitate. Farstar downloaded the SITREP and saw the target-rich environment. He slid a space mine back into the spa and used his laser to light up targets in the order they had been prioritized. As the air support craft arrived, they assumed control by target, and Farstar witnessed the target-weapon pairing so no errant target got away. In no time, everything in Farstar’s line of sight was abuzz with flying craft and zooming weapons. Explosions detonated making the Edgemaster shift his laser device to new targets until all of them were destroyed.
Farstar made his report: “Graybeard, all targets have been destroyed. Do you desire further action at this time?”
“Farstar, this is Graybeard. Escape your current position and vector toward the coordinates given in your download. Once there, you’ll report to Freelander for further targeting. If Freelander is no longer active, act on your own initiative. Out.”
Farstar sprinted to his spacecraft. His new 3Maggie was already making preparation to launch. He gave her the sign, and she pushed the throttle forward. The fastest small spaceship in the universe jolted and flashed toward the coordinates Farstar punched into its system.
“Welcome back, Manny. Did you have a good R&R?”
Farstar was not yet on familiar terms with his new AI, but he decided to be civil. “I had a few minutes of pleasure before I was called back into service. What did you do to while the time?”
The 3Maggie smiled. “I was catching up on memories you shared with the unit I replaced. I must say, the memories made me blush—if that’s the right word.”
Farstar shook his head when he saw the twinkle in her eyes. His former robot had been his alter-ego and bosom friend. He wondered whether this replacement would measure up. “It’s probably a good idea you decided to go to school on your predecessor. She and I were quite an item, but human-robot relationships take time.”
“Yes. I have been programmed to be patient. I’m willing to be compliant—to a point. But my tastes are variegated. I want you to feel free to ask whatever you like. After looking into the soul of your 3Maggie, I promise I won’t violate her or your memory of her in any way.”
Farstar nodded. “Are you in a position to set our spacecraft on autopilot for the duration of our trip?”
“Just say the word. Let me suggest that we retire to the cleansing compartment after I’ve done that.”
“Do you think I smell too bad?”
“That is a relative construction, I believe. You smell as if you have been drenched in human blood and offal—mixed with cordite and burning flesh. I can give you a complete rendition, if you like.” She smiled over her shoulder. He sniffed himself and almost choked.
“Go to autopilot. Please. And set this compartment to ‘cleanse’ while we retire to the cleansing unit to rid me of this stench.”
“Perhaps you can return to the pleasant moments you experienced in the spa?”
“That’s not a bad idea. Maybe you can help me dispel the vision of obsequious whores offering expensive drinks by the pool.”
“I can do that. More, I can assure you that you won’t be awakened from your reverie to find yourself up to your neck in slaughter.”
“You have the right idea, 3Maggie, but we have to be realistic about our situation. I can be called to action no matter where I am or what I’m doing. I can’t hesitate to make the transition from rest to full-alert activity. That’s the nature of my job.”
The robot smiled. She tooled with the command array. Then she stood and peeled off her uniform. Manny was charmed by what she revealed. She crooked her finger as she preceded him out of the command module along the corridor to the cleansing unit. She helped him out of his stinky clothes, which she put into the washing machine. She used a soaping hose to wash him from head to foot before she pushed him into the cleansing pod and followed him holding two natural sponges, one in each hand.
One Earth hour later, Manny felt more like himself than he had done in weeks. His 3Maggie knew all his former unit’s tricks to make him relax. She also knew how to adjust her motions to give him maximum pleasure. By the time they emerged from the cleansing unit, they were ready to enter their sleep compartments. She would recharge and keep watch from her unit while he would enter deep sleep with dream inducements. He felt certain the robot would awaken him just before they arrived at their destination.
*
Manny Farstar was walking down a country road lined with cypress trees. He noticed the only birds were crows and blackbirds, watching him. In school, he had learned those birds were among the most intelligent. If so, they would recall who he was and where he was going. He felt foreboding and was filled with ineffable sadness. His 3Maggie had perished on a critical mission. He was going to lay a memorial wreath on her cenotaph—the marker for which there were no interred remains.
The gated cemetery just to the right off the road was surrounded by a seven-foot wall of stone, topped with iron spikes. It was reserved for heroes and heroines of the secret services—particularly those who had died off-planet under honorable conditions. The smell of hyacinths filled the still air, and the iron gears grated as he pushed the gate open. If the Edg
emaster had not turned to listen to a particularly raucous crow, his head would have been lopped off by the ingenious improvised explosive device that was designed to take his life.
Manny laughed and unsafed his weapons. He might have hit the ground, or he might have fled. Instead, he forged forward, intrepid and wary. He recalled 3Maggie’s marker was three rows ahead and then four to the left. He activated his fire finder seeker device, which found no targets within shooting range. He watched his steps to avoid tripwires and false pavement areas—anything that might set off another IED. Then he stood in the place before her memorial. He laid the wreath of white chrysanthemums and felt a tap on his shoulder.
Manny was not easily frightened, but the figure behind him had crept up on him with such stealth as to evade his supernatural sensoria. If the figure were hostile, he would now be dead. Without looking around, he spoke.
“Who are you? And why have you put yourself in danger to converse with me? You must know any encounter will mean your death—and not from me necessarily.”
The mystery figure said, “I am farther away than you suspect. Act naturally, and we can converse without detection. If you understand me, just nod once.”
Manny nodded slowly once. He kept his eyes glued on his robot’s bronze placard. It shone in the midday sunshine. Beside it hung the wreath that symbolized immaculate death. The imperial family must keep a watch over all such tokens erected for the assassin. Manny knew the voice must be that of a neutral or a friend in the universal tussle for power and glory.
“I have a mission for you if you wish to help us. I’m only going to ask you once whether you are willing to assist. If you shake your head for no, I’ll trouble you no longer. If you nod for yes, I’ll give your mission parameters. Do I make myself clear?”
“I take no orders except from those who speak the password granting access. I have not heard it yet, and my answer depends on it absolutely.”
“The password is Arcturus.”
“Then my answer must be yes.”