Born in Darkness

by Thomas Farmer

  Four guards stood at the four corners. Each had been armed differently and carried slightly different sets of equipment. Like everything else in the last few years, they were a test for his most prized accomplishment.

  For a moment, she still looked like the young girl he remembered. She had been a programmer before the Project, before the implants changed her. Now, she stood with a grace that was at once stoic and fluid.

  Aegesander cleared his throat to announce his arrival—like unnecessary—and Helena turned. Her eyes had focused on a blank spot on the wall opposite where she stood, but now they zeroed in on him. Even First Lord Aegesander could not tell what went on behind those eyes. Two years of working with her, and he still barely understood how her mind worked now.

  “Is there any pain today?” he asked.

  Helena's eyes snapped into focus, zeroing in on Aegesander. She fixed him with her cold, blue gaze without moving her head. “There is no pain, First Lord. There has been no pain in one year, four months, sixteen days, nine hours, thirteen minutes, and seven-point-oh-oh-three seconds, as of your asking.”

  “May I make a suggestion?”

  “Of course. You are my Hexarch.”

  “There is a line, Second Lord Helena, between formality and unsociability. Such precision, while helpful to our scientists during your examinations, will not win you any friends.”

  “My apologies, First Lord. I will be,” she paused, “less precise in the future unless questioned by a scientist.”

  Aegesander nodded. “Good. Now, let me repeat my question. Is there any pain?”

  “No, First Lord. Not in,” another pause, “some time.”

  He smiled, tight-lipped but pleased. A moment passed before he turned away from her and beckoned to one of the four guards. “Can you tell me, Helena, what Third Lord Guardsman Elftherios has in the breast pocket of his uniform?”

  She turned her head, watching the guard approach. “A holoprojector,” she replied. “Simple, yet ornate, with minimal storage capacity. It appears to have no external connections. I cannot see more.”

  “Guardsman Elftherios?” Aegesander asked, gesturing to the man's pocket.

  The guard nodded and withdrew a small disk from his pocket. He placed it on the palm of his hand and tapped it once. An image appeared in the air, showing him, another man, and three children.

  “Thank you, Guardsman,” Aegesander said, waving the guard away. He pointed to another guard, waving her over. “What can you tell me about Third Lord Guardswoman Melina's morning?”

  Helena's eyes swept over the second guard, she inhaled deeply, and then reexamined the guard. “Her breakfast was some sort of sweet bread, but the smells are overpowered by others. I detect gunpowder residue in her hair and solvent in her sidearm, likely a result of extended training time after breakfast.”

  She inhaled again, watching the guard grow less comfortable as her analysis went on. “I also smell cologne and male pheromones along her neck and,” her eyes moved again, “other areas. The spotty nature suggests it was transferred by contact. She has not yet eaten lunch.”

  Aegesander nodded, this time allowing a thin smile to cross his wizened features. He gestured for Melina to return to her post, which she did with a look of gratitude.

  “Second Lord Helena, Third Lord Guardsman Elias is going to try to take your sidearm from you. You are to resist his efforts and subdue him without causing any injuries.”

  “Yes, First Lord,” she replied. Her feet slid apart and she softened her knees, sinking into a fighting stance. The guard Aegesander had indicated set his rifle down in his corner and approached. He withdrew a small stick from a pocket, one that quickly elongated with a flick of his wrist.

  Elias swung the baton and Helena simply shifted backward and out of the way. She dodged his second and third attacks with equal ease before he straightened up and exchanged a moment's eye contact with Aegesander, who nodded.

  His subsequent attacks were faster, much more precise, and Helena was only able to avoid the first two. The third snagged her voluminous robe, pulling her off balance. The fourth strike nearly hit home, but she turned her sudden loss of balance into a roll, coming up near Elias's knees.

  Helena rose, toppling the guard as she did so. She followed him back to the ground, intending to end the match then and there. Instead, as he fell onto his back, Elias grabbed for her hands and put a foot into Helena's stomach, flipping her head over heels and onto the floor.

  “Second Lord!” Aegesander snapped. “Analysis!”

  Helena rose to her feet with a single motion. “My opponent is relying on the limitations of my instructions and attacking when I could, but may not, strike him. I will compensate.”

  Aegesander nodded, watching as Elias shifted his tactics. Rather than use the baton in his hands as a small club, his motions now were focused on grappling. He snaked the metal rod in quick circles, trying to ensnare Helena's arms or legs.

  Her hands moved ever faster as she allowed Elias's new aggressive style to push her around the room. She was not so much losing ground as deliberately ceding it, using the distance to control the fight. Whether Elias knew it or not, Aegesander could see that she had already won their engagement, even if it took several more seconds.

  Finally, Helena allowed Elias to hook one arm with his baton. His next move was logical, and it would have worked against a normal opponent. He lowered himself slightly, reaching out a foot to entangle her legs. She, however, was prepared for it and altered her balance, giving her control of his leg instead.

  One twist of Helena's hips and Elias went to the floor. She followed again, successful this time, and dropped her hips heavily down onto his. She reached out with the hand opposite Elias's weapon hand, seized his wrist, twisted, and disarmed him.

  He grabbed her other arm, but she twisted that one as well, breaking his hold. Helena then leaned back so that she was away from his hands, but her weight remained centered. With one deft motion, she produced a pistol from a hidden pocket in her robe and aimed it at his forehead.

  “You have lost, Third Lord Elias,” Aegesander pronounced. “You may release him, Helena.”

  She nodded and the pistol disappeared back into her robe. Helena then stood and stepped away from Elias's prone form. A moment passed and she extended a hand, helping him to his feet.

  “If I may speak freely, First Lord,” Elias said, speaking in the stiff, formal tones required of him when addressing the Hexarch. “I remain impressed by Second Lord Helena's combat skills.”

  “As do I,” Aegesander replied. “Thank you, Guardsman Elias. You may return to your post.”

  The guard saluted and stepped away.

  “I apologize, First Lord,” Helena said. “I was unable to refrain from bruising him, and I fear I may have hyper-extended a tendon in Guardsman Elias's wrist.”

  Despite the demands of propriety, Aegesander laughed. “You are forgiven, Helena. Your restraint was admirable.”

  “Thank you, First Lord,” she replied, then a distracted look came across her face. “First Lord?”

  “Yes?”

  “There is a message for you, from First Lord Eurybia.”

  Aegesander nodded, trying once again not to be disturbed by watching her mentally access his personal network. Before he replied to Helena, he turned to the guards. “You are dismissed.”

  “First Lord?”

  He waved them away. “Go, Thirds. I give you the day off.”

  “Yes, First Lord,” replied Elias. He gestured to the others and, as one, they exited the room, leaving him alone with Helena.

  Now, he turned to her. “What does the message say?”

  “First Lord Eurybia's schedule has been delayed. She does not believe she will arrive in time for your feast next week. She also sends her wish that I meet with Second Lord Panatakis, her Titan, as soon as possible.

  “Shall I reply?”

  Aegesander nodded. “I sent her a message earlier. Tell her to keep to that s
chedule if at all possible, and that meeting me at Dasos is less important. Ask her to...”

  The intercom overhead dinged once. “Message from First Lord Eurybia. Play?”

  Aegesander nodded, ignoring the alert. “Ask her to forward the latest information on Panatakis's implants. I would like to compare them to yours. Tell her I look forward to seeing her on Prosgeiosi.”

  “Is that all, First Lord?”

  He thought for a moment. “Ask her if she will still have time to meet with me ahead of the Council session.”

  Helena nodded. Her lips moved as she subvocalized a message, dictating it via her implants rather than using a microphone and her voice. When she finished, she locked eyes with Aegesander again.

  The hair on the back of his neck rose slightly under the intensity of her stare, but he made himself meet her eyes. He was a Hexarch, after all, and no Second Lord would make Aegesander of Dasos flinch.

  After a moment, Helena's lips turned upward in something that might have been a smile on someone whose face seemed less predatory. “Message sent.”

  He made himself nod. “Thank you, Second Lord. Now, do you feel ready?”

  “I could be ready in ten minutes, First Lord.”

  “I meant mentally, Second Lord Helena. Are you ready to meet the others and to formally meet the Council?”

  She paused and a strange, calculating expression passed over her face. “Yes, First Lord.” Another moment passed, and she asked, “are you?”

  Aegesander froze. When he spoke it was slow, methodical. “To meet the Council? Yes, of course.” He laughed. “Aside from Hyperion, and even him indirectly, I talk to them often.”

  “With respect, I meant the other Titans.”

  He nodded very slowly, not bothering to hide his anxiety from Helena. If he thought he could have done so, he would have, but Helena had proven time and time again to be able to read even the most minute changes in facial expression. In a way, it was freeing to not have the usual weight of guarding his emotions to worry about.

  “I am, yes. Much of the information, as you are aware, is publicly available, but I'm curious to see what my comrades have done with their time. Why do you ask?”

  Helena's face registered no emotion. “Curiosity.”

  “I see,” he replied. After a moment's consideration, Aegesander added, “curiosity drives a great many of your questions, Second Lord.”

  She nodded and a smile spread across her face. “As it does for everyone.”

  He briefly considered correcting her, explaining that most people asked questions to gain information that they could then use to their advantage later, but decided against it. On the occasions that they discussed such issues, Aegesander always came away profoundly frustrated by Helena's apparent naivete.

  She raised a thin eyebrow, bisected by a scar from her early training in using her implants. “First Lord?”

  He shook his head. “It's nothing. Merely lost in thought for a moment.”

  Helena nodded. “Of course. You have many things to occupy your time.”

  He eyed her for a moment. “Second Lord Helena,” Aegesander began. He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully as he always seemed to do around her. “Is something on your mind?”

  Her eyebrows drew together and her lips turned down in a frown. It was, at least for a short moment, the most human expression he had seen in her face since her implants were installed.

  Helena took a deep breath before answering. “I am unsure what I feel. Perhaps 'trepidation' is the most accurate descriptor for my current mood. I am different from the other Titans, and I have often found myself wondering how they will treat that difference.”

  Aegesander smiled. This, at least, he could deal with. “Differences in appearance are the hallmark of Technocrat culture. I would venture to say that, if you looked just like everyone else, that would be the problem.”

  She nodded and her frown softened some, but did not disappear. “I understand that, First Lord. It is not my appearance that concerns me. Since the Project began, I have,” she stopped for a moment in a rare display of not having the right words to say. A sharp intake of breath later, and Helena added, “I've experienced a great many things in a different way.”

  He nodded. “I imagine you have.”

  An expression Aegesander could not define crossed Helena's face. If someone pressed him in that moment to explain what it was he saw on her face, Aegesander would have defined it as “pity.” It chilled him.

  She looked like she was about to say something, but then Helena's lips turned up in a disarming, gentle smile. “Of course, First Lord. But if I wanted to speak to someone with similar experiences?”

  “I'll have Second Lord Panatakis's frequency forwarded to you immediately.”

  “Thank you, First Lord.”

  He nodded acknowledgment. Helena knew about Panatakis, and about how Eurybia's research into cybernetics had been developed alongside his. Panatakis's implants were designed to do different things than Helena's were, but ultimately Aegesander supposed that was immaterial. She wanted someone “like her” to talk to, and Panatakis was the only person who could share in her experiences like that.

  He also knew that Helena could have simply taken that information at any time. The fact that she had not, and had in fact asked him instead, assuaged some of his fears about her capabilities. The Helena of two years ago would simply have gone into his computer and taken that information.

  And then she blinked, keeping her eyes closed just a fraction of a second longer than usual. Aegesander knew she had just done exactly that. His best security experts would likely find no trace of her intrusion in his systems, assuming they could even determine if she went through Dasos's database or his own personal system.

  He asked himself if the security of either even gave her pause anymore. No matter what answer he came up with, Aegesander did not like it.

  She smiled. “Thank you First Lord. I will contact Second Lord Panatakis soon. I believe you are correct. He and I will likely have much to talk about.”

  Again, Aegesander nodded. “It's important to have people you can trust, Helena. Don't forget that.”

  Again, the expression that might have been pity crossed her face, gone in a heartbeat and replaced with that same gentle smile. “Of course, First Lord.”

  “May I ask you a question, Second Lord?”

  For a moment, she looked confused, then she nodded. “You are my Hexarch. You can ask anything of me.”

  “Why did you volunteer for this Project? You've never talked about that.”

  Suddenly, the expression on her face turned profoundly sad. Her eyes fell and even the shining metal of her implants looked dull. “I had friends on Kipos, First Lord.”

  “You're so young,” Aegesander said. “I... no. I had friends on Kipos, too, Helena. Diomedes, the former Hexarch, was a close personal friend of mine. You had to be, what, twenty?”

  “Twenty-seven, First Lord.”

  “I'm sorry, Helena. I should not have asked.”

  She shook her head. “You had no way to know.”

  “Still.”

  She took a deep breath, then fixed Aegesander with her piercing blue eyes again. When she spoke, the sadness was gone, replaced with a tone very even and level. “May I return to my suite, First Lord?”

  Aegesander nodded. “You have the rest of the afternoon to yourself, Helena. We should land tonight after dinner.”

  She nodded and turned to leave the room. Beneath her robes, Helena might as well have been floating with how little her shoulders moved with each step.

  The door clicked shut and Aegesander shook his head. So quiet that he barely heard his own voice, he muttered, “what have I created?”

  Chapter 5

  Victoria jumped fully awake in an instant, startled by some noise she failed to immediately place. One hand raised her baton into an automatic guard while the other groped for her backpack, making sure it was still where she left it te
n minutes before. Finding her bag and its nearly-depleted store of food and water intact assuaged some of her anxiety, but not much.

  With the baton still raised high, she slowly came to her feet. Without a proper way to keep time, she had no way to know how long it had been since her first fight, but Victoria had not gotten more than fifteen or twenty minutes of sleep at any given time. Her head swam, and she shook herself.

  She stumbled, thrusting the baton ahead of her and then sweeping it around the other direction in an automatic defense. Nothing attacked her and she leaned against the wall, catching her breath and forcing her heart to beat slower.

  After killing the four-armed monster, Victoria fought several more of the different creatures. The fighting might not have been constant, but she had very little time to rest in between fights. It certainly felt like the fighting had been constant, at any rate.

  The whole sequence was routine anymore. Victoria lowered the baton, letting it dangle from her wrist via a strap she cut from green-eye fabric. With her other hand, she took the bag from her shoulders and set it on the floor, then untied the makeshift strap under her chin that held on her purloined green-eye helmet.

  Hunger gnawed at her, sinking its fangs into her stomach and tying the muscles there in tight knots. She eased the feeling by draining a half-full water bag before anything else. The sudden influx of fluid woke up her brain the rest of the way and caused her heart to again beat faster. When that calmed, she dug out the last of her rat-meat jerky and ate it.

  Her hunger never abated, but the addition of a few tiny bites of food made things more bearable.

  Victoria hefted the backpack onto her shoulders again, adjusting slightly so that it settled onto her back with some measure of comfort. Layers of green-eye fabric made a reasonable pad under the straps and against her back.