Arrival

by William Dickey

  ‘I think you misunderstand,’ said Mai. ‘It doesn’t make photocopies. Well I guess it could, but that would be wasteful.’

  “Not photocopies? But it said it’s a copy machine,” I said.

  ‘Yes. Exactly. It’s a copy machine,’ Mai sighed. ‘It makes copies.’

  My face brightened as I realized what Mai was getting to. The machine could copy anything, not just images on paper.

  “It can be fixed?” I said.

  Mai nodded before glancing at the others and placing a finger over her lips. I knew what she meant. We’d talk more once they were gone.

  “I don’t know why you’d want to fix a broken copy machine,” said Albert. “Now if it was a cappuccino machine...”

  I didn’t correct Albert’s mistake and led the party away from the ancient engineering bay and to the final room of interest.

  The command center was a strangely compact room, its circular walls lined with panels covered by hundreds of buttons many labeling curious features like Sun Roof and Landing Gear. Unfortunately, the console appeared inactive and all the indicator lights were off.

  “Now, how do we turn this thing on?” I mumbled to myself as I circled the console to give Mai a once over on all the buttons.

  ‘It’s over here,’ said Mai pointing to a thin slit on one of the panels.

  “Let’s see,” I said as I placed the key card inside. The control panels all flickered to life and the room filled with the subtle reassuring hum of technology in action.

  “Wow. How old is this place? Yet it still works,” said Rose.

  “Crystalpeak has stood for a thousand years and this place is at least older than that,” said Zelus. “Now what do we do?”

  “I guess we try one,” I said. I pushed a button with a picture of some sort of laser gun marked defenses.

  A holographic screen turned on: Access Denied. Please enter the password: XXXXXX.

  “Hey, does anyone see a keyboard?” I asked.

  “Is over here. Why?” said Titania. “Do know what password is?”

  “I have an idea,” I said, eyeing Mai.

  ‘Don’t look at me,’ she said. ‘I don’t know it.’

  “Let’s try, 123456,” I said, fingers tapping the keyboard.

  “What kind of shit password is that?” said Zelus.

  “It’s the most common password on my world,” I replied.

  The password you have entered is invalid.

  “I guess the builders of this place were cleverer than people from your world,” Zelus mused.

  I tried a few more common passwords. Then a few of the other options on the console, but no matter what I tried the machine failed to do anything new.

  “What’s the point of this heap of junk if it can’t do anything,” I complained giving the console a harsh kick. Even if a kick didn’t improve the state of the machine, except for the time I broke my toe, it always made me feel better.

  “You shouldn’t just give up. Wait till you’ve tried all the buttons at least,” said Rose. “Here, we’ll help.”

  Everyone started mashing buttons and after a couple minutes, we saw progress. The button was simply marked: Map. And when I pressed it, a large three-dimensional hologram of the globe appeared. Like the other maps I’d seen of Tautellus, the continents were the ones as Earth but large sheets of ice engulfed both poles, lowering the sea level and exposing more land.

  “Do you think these weather systems are current?” I asked pointing to a swirling hurricane just off the gulf coast. The hurricane wasn’t the only weather system. The entire globe was covered in slowly moving clouds hovering just above the planet’s surface.

  ‘Yes,’ said Mai. ‘Solar-powered satellites can take a long time to fall down.’

  “How could they be current?” asked Rose, to her such advanced devices seemed impossible.

  “Dey probably are current. Ein people vo could build dis place could alzo haffe zatellites in the sky relaying informazion,” said Albert.

  “Any idea what these are?” I pointed out a number of red dots spread across the holographic globe. Next to each, one was a short line of text, a name.

  “One is here,” Titania pointed to one of the red dots labeled Lemuria, positioned roughly where we were near the California coast. “And one is in the Hyperion Mountains as said before.” She pointed out another dot labeled Avalon in the same area as where I’d found Mai.

  ‘The dots indicate locations of Traveler sites,’ said Mai.

  “That could come in handy,” I said, my inner greedy pig taking over. “This could be the mother lode. I can just go around excavating all the old ruins.”

  “You really want to spend your days hunting around the world for ruins,” said Rose.

  “Well, if there’s one that’s convenient,” I said.

  I looked at the globe for the closest locations. The one in the Hyperion Mountains was the closest but I didn’t want to return to that one. Lilith, the demoness, knew about it, making it too risky to go back.

  The next nearest sites were in what would have been Florida, Cuba, and Alaska. I looked at them all doubtfully. Florida was deep into elven territory, here Alaska was an ice cube, and Xebrya didn’t have ships meant for the high seas so Cuba was out of the question.

  It was then that I noticed the Traveler name for the Cuban site.

  “At-Atlantis,” I stuttered.

  ‘Yes, it was the Traveler Capital, the grand jewel of the greatest civilization that ever existed,’ said Mai. ‘We should really check that one out.’

  “Atlandis,” Albert repeated. “Could it be the zame one as the legends from Earth? Could the people vo built dis place be connected to Earth? Could dey be connected to hov ve got to dis vorld?”

  “Maybe,” I said. “But the same name doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Remember nothing we see is really in English. Maybe the city is this ancient advanced civilization’s capital and the system is translating its name to Atlantis because of its similarities to our legends.”

  No one knew what to say to that. We knew so little anything was possible. After a few more failures at the controls, we decided to bring this mission to a close. Albert took a bunch of the dead plant monsters as ingredients. I reassured Titania that I’d deliver a larger version of my flying claws within a week. And I parted with them all at my front door on the surface before rushing back to the Traveler engineering bay.

  “So Mai, what about this thing?” I asked.

  ‘Right now, it’s a big hunk of metal,’ she said.

  “Yes,” I replied. I already knew from the system description that the copy machine was broken. “Can it be fixed?”

  ‘It’ll be some work but maybe,’ said Mai. ‘There are a few parts in it that would have degraded over time. If they can be replaced then we should be able to get it up and running again.’

  “And this copy machine, it can copy anything?” I asked.

  ‘Yes, anything. The Travelers used them to produce things as needed. You input an object and the raw materials and mana necessary to produce that object and the copy machine will make a copy,’ said Mai.

  The machine had over a hundred bins labeled with each element from the periodic table and a few not. I took a look in the bins. They were all empty.

  “So I fill all the bins with the appropriate elements and it can just make anything,” I said.

  ‘Not make, copy. You need one of the items to serve as a template. The copy is nearly perfect, so any flaws in the template will be reproduced as well,’ she explained.

  Now I understood. In the end, the copy machine would be useful but not game changing. I wouldn’t have any amazing futuristic super weapons. I would only have the tools available in this society and whatever I could come up with myself.

  “Do I need to fill these with pure elements?” I asked indicating the raw material bins labeled the different elements. If I did need pure elements, the machine would be equally useless to me. I didn’t have a pure source of hy
drogen, the most abundant of the elements, much less any of the others.

  ‘No, you only need to put in substances with a large amount of that element. For example, water would work well for both the hydrogen and oxygen. And table salt works for sodium and chlorine.’

  “What happens when an element is missing?” I asked.

  ‘Then that element will be missing in the copy. If the element was important enough it’ll render the product useless,’ said Mai.

  “Do you know enough to guide me through how to fix it?” I asked.

  ‘Yes. All A.I.’s were programed with such knowledge. If a copy machine were to breakdown, they needed to be sure someone would know how to fix it.’

  “So how do I open her up?” I said. I was eager to get started on the repairs a copy machine would come in handy.

  It wasn’t long until I regretted that over eagerness. It took me two hours to get the thing open. Oxidation is a bitch. Then after Mai got a look inside, I spent another three hours just listening to her list all the things I’d need to fix it. I had a lot of work ahead of me.

  Chapter 31: War

  Bolevard relished the cavalrymen and wagon drivers. While they could sit on their asses all day and let the animals do all the work, he was forced to walk, now uphill across rugged terrain. On top of the standard issue chainmail armor and the heavy double-edged sword strewn across his hip, Bolevard was also forced to lug around jars of arette serum, a concoction that was used by healers to restore blood loss. Most supplies were hauled by wagon, but the foul stench of the arette serum riled up the animals, so instead it had to be carried by hand. Naturally, being the low man on the totem pole, Bolevard was assigned the task.

  Bolevard stopped to stare into the mountains. The tops were high enough that a thick layer of snow constantly covered it. Fortunately, they weren’t going that high. The army was going through Monstone Pass, a narrow gap in the mountain range that served as the border between Xebrya and beastmen territory.

  The men had started to feel a bit anxious. Despite a month of marching, they still hadn’t come across any beastmen, plenty of wild wolves and even a few wyverns, but no beastmen. Where were they? That was on everyone’s minds. The campaign also came across several human settlements, or rather what was left of human settlements; all of them were destroyed and contained no other signs of the enemy.

  Suddenly, the army was called to a stop. This wasn’t strange in and of itself; they were called to a stop every few hours for a break. In fact, it was about time to take another break and they were in a good spot, the highest point of the mountain pass. What was unusual was that they were brought to a halt through hand signals rather than the sharp toot of a horn. Bolevard didn’t like it.

  General Merlain had always been confident of his military acumen. He came from a long line of commanders. Both his father and grandfather similarly reached the rank of general, although Merlain would tell anyone who asked, and some who hadn’t, that he had done so the youngest. He joined the army when he was 16. At twenty, he earned his own command. He quickly rose through the ranks until, at 31, he was as high as he could be, Commander of the Northern Forces. Only the Archlord and a handful of mages held a higher position.

  “General Merlain,” said Lieutenant Burndhert as he walked up to the General.

  “Lieutenant, does the diviner have anything to report?” asked Merlain. The General called his forces to a halt after half of the forward scouts failed to report in. The scouts were always the quiet independent sort, braving the harsh wilds alone so the main army could take the easier path. It wasn’t unusual for a scouting party or two to miss a check in, people got caught up in rough terrain or in a fight with a few wild beasts, shit just happens. Nevertheless, with half the scouts missing, Merlain knew something was wrong.

  He hoped the diviner had some answers. Their scrying, amongst other things, allowed them to see events far away. Merlain wished to use their powers more liberally, then he’d not need to rely on scouts at all, but scrying was a rare gift, the whole army only had two that were truly competent and they couldn’t look everywhere all the time.

  “I had the diviners take a look but they couldn’t find anything,” the Lieutenant answered.

  “The scouts are fine then,” asked the General, relieved.

  “No the diviners couldn’t find anything, no scouts, no enemies. It’s like they’ve just vanished,” said Lieutenant Burndhert.

  Merlain jumped up at that. The enemy was here. He wasn’t sure how the savages had concealed themselves, but they had to have. “Put the troops on full alert. Form up the forward lines. I want the enemy to meet a solid wall of steel. Have archers and mages on standby. They are somewhere just ahead of us and we need to be ready when the time comes.”

  The orders were sent out. Any second the troops would form up, the knights taking forward positions, their armor meant to buy enough time for the mages to do the heavy attacking.

  Then the general turned back to Lieutenant Burndhert. “Bring the diviners here.” Merlain wanted eyes on what he was up against and he didn’t want to waste time relaying messages. The fight had finally arrived.

  ‘This will be the one they remember me for,’ Merlain thought as he stared down the mountain into the rugged Othan wilderness. After thirty years in the army and fifteen in his current posting, this would be the jewel crowning his distinguished career. Action was rare on the northern border. Crushing the beastmen heathens was sure to make the history books. This would be his legacy.

  Bolevard was frustrated again. The army was finally doing something. After a brief stop, the entire army was ordered into formation. Knights lined up behind their shields in orderly rows that stretched all the way across the mountain pass. Archers and mages were placed behind them, ready to do damage from afar. The fight was sure to start soon. But Bolevard wasn’t with them. He was with the rearguard.

  “This is such crap,” Bolevard whined to his buddy Cherodean. “We’re never going to get a chance to prove ourselves if they keep us huddled in the back like this.” Bolevard met Cherodean six weeks ago when he first joined the army. They were both green and regularly forced into similar duties.

  “I think I prefer it this way. We’re the dregs. We’re paid to do as we’re told, whether that be put in the frontlines or the rearguard. It’s better to be here, where it’s safe,” said Cherodean.

  “But we’ll never get to rise through the ranks if we never fight. Higher rank means more money,” argued Bolevard.

  “This war won’t last long enough to matter. The beastmen are strong and fast but they can’t use magic. One good battle mage can burn them all to a crisp,” said Cherodean.

  “That just makes each fight even more important. I can’t believe I’m just going to stand in the back through my first battle,” said Bolevard, peering over his shoulder to get a look at what was happening at the front. “I can’t even see anything through this many lines of people.”

  At that moment, nothing seemed off about Bolevard’s statement. He was assigned to the rear where he’d only be called upon when many of the army’s forces were depleted. But before he could even take his next breath, Bolevard was proven wrong.

  Bolevard watched helplessly as a massive white wolf covered in bronze armor appeared from nowhere.

  “Watch out,” he cried as the wolf with a single snap of its jaws took off Cherodean’s head. The thick iron helmet, Cherodean wore was useless, it was crushed in an instant in the beastman’s jaws like it was nothing. A river of blood splattered across Bolevard’s face before he could even process the situation. His friend in the rearguard had been instantly slaughtered.

  The wolf was followed by dozens of other beasts, all appearing as if from thin air. Bulls, bears, and a number of other types of large beasts appeared behind the wolf, chomping, boring, and ramming down on all the rearguard soldiers around him.

  Bolevard fumbled for his sword. His chance to join the fight had come. His dearest wish had come true.
>
  But by the time he had his sword unsheathed, Bolevard was already in an enemy’s sights. A rhino a dozen yards away was barreling straight towards him. Bolevard kept out of the way, barely dodging the rhinoman before counterattacking with a slash across the rhino’s side.

  Ping.

  Bolevard’s sword clanged harmlessly off the rhinoman’s chainmail, knocking Bolevard’s lone weapon from his hand. Bolevard chased after his sword as the rhinoman turned around to make another pass. He wasn’t going to make it. Bolevard’s short life flashed before his eyes. It was rather boring. He hadn’t accomplished any of his grand goals. He’d failed in life.

  It all looked hopeless, but just before he could meet his end a great beam of white light shot down from the sky and carried him far away.

  “Knights pull back. Pull back,” Merlain shouted to everyone who could hear. He could also make out a number of his Lieutenants echoing his orders in the distance. “They’re coming from the rear. Knight Units one and two, retreat. Protect the mages. Knight Units three and four stay where you are we don’t know what’s ahead.”

  Merlain was stunned at what was happening. Where had the beastmen come from? The army hadn’t seen a whiff of the enemy the whole way here and before entering the pass, he’d used scouts and diviners to search in all directions. Only the forward scouts had problems. There’d been no signs of the enemy on either side. So how had they’d hidden themselves? How had he, General Ulafist Merlain, high commander of the northern Xebrya been tricked? Merlain’s mind spun with these thoughts before he could refocus on the task at hand.

  The rearguard was shattered. Merlain cursed himself for not sparing a few of the regulars for the back. Now the beasts had made it through to attack the mages. The mages where holding their own, but there were still losses. Merlain was angered by each loss, mages were rare and many were of noble blood, the sons and daughters of some of the most prominent members of Xebryan society. Merlain would have a lot of explaining to do after all this was over, but first, he had to survive this battle.