Galaxy of Titans: An Epic Space Opera Series (The Augmented Book 3)

by Ben Hale

  “Ready?” Ero asked.

  The engineer stood and produced a small key. It was silver and obviously embedded with a unique cortex. It probably had a thousand-digit activation code connected to the statue. Even Skorn had called it unhackable.

  “On the back,” Erlanex said, clearly still sour about Ero going first.

  Ero circled the statue and found a small hole at the center of the statue’s back. He pressed the key into the lock and went to withdraw his hand, but his fingers seemed bound to the key. A surge of energy streaked up his arm, and he recoiled at the sting.

  “That’s just the synaptic mapping,” Erlanex said.

  “Is it supposed to hurt?”

  “It’s copying your entire brain function onto a complex series of crystalline substrates,” Erlanex said. “Of course it’s going to hurt.”

  The features of the construct began to change, its cheeks and eyes gradually altering to resemble Ero. Then Ero felt a tug in the corner of his thoughts. He began to fall, his body tumbling away, his vision spinning.

  “You were supposed to catch him,” Erlanex growled.

  A dakorian grunted in irritation. “Sorry.”

  Ero’s consciousness spun like a ship without grav dampeners hurtling towards a planet’s surface. He fought to stabilize, but as his body hit the ground, the sensations took root in a different foundation, one of power fused over a gravity sphere as a heart. The spinning slowed, and he grimaced and raised a hand to his head. To his shock, the hand was not his own, but the statue’s.

  He rotated the hand to examine its fingers. It responded as well as his own flesh, and aside from feeling oddly numb, he felt like himself. Erlanex was talking, but Ero turned and looked to the ground, to his body resting where it had fallen. The sense of madness was powerful but fleeting, and an unbidden laugh burst from his lips. He lifted his fingers to touch his face, then felt along his nose and eyes.

  “Why does it look like me?” he asked.

  “It’s coded to map onto your intrinsic self-image,” Erlanex replied. “Early constructs failed because the operator’s mind rejected the synaptic mapping when it didn’t match their self-image.”

  “Am I inside it or operating it from the ground?” He pointed to his own body and marveled at the limb’s smooth motion.

  “Both.” Erlanex checked the holo and nodded to himself. “Your body is in a temporary stasis that links to the substrate network on the construct, and when the link is severed, your mind and memories will update back to your consciousness. It should be rather seamless.”

  Ero’s attention was momentarily captivated by a butterfly. The insect was fluttering down the street a half a mile away, yet he could see the contours of the wing coloring as if it were in his hands. Sound was equally as focused, and dozens of voices murmured in fear and awe. It took him a moment to register that they belonged to the augments standing outside the ring of dakorians. All of it paled in comparison to the energy churning within every extremity.

  “How does it feel?” Erlanex asked.

  “Like I’m made of power,” Ero replied.

  “That’s because you are,” Erlanex said, his voice filled with envy. “Diagnostics look good. Let’s test the flight capabilities. It’s controlled by your consciousness, so all you have to do is want to fly and it will do the rest.”

  Ero looked to the sky and pictured himself flying through the clouds. His feet came off the ground. The sensation was euphoric. Ero had flown in starships and exo suits, but never like this. This felt like it was his body, like he was flying by force of will. He floated upward, faster and faster, as the construct reacted to his burgeoning excitement.

  Shouts of delight came from human children, and those who’d left the square looked up as he rose towards into the sky. Women and men pointed and cried out, and a few of the gravity augments jumped to the roofs of buildings. Ero kept climbing, rising until the village shrank and the people became small, even in his enhanced vision. A burst of laughter bubbled to his lips as he passed through a lazy cloud and surveyed the breathtaking vista stretching in every direction.

  On impulse, he leaned forward and north, his excitement bleeding into speed until the ground hurtled beneath him. The rolling hills, grasslands, and forests turned into the sprawling inland sea, and he spun into a backflip. The motion was pure joy, and he flipped and turned, veering back and forth through clouds and sunshine before diving towards the water.

  “You shouldn’t get it wet,” Erlanex said, sounding like he was inside Ero’s head. “I haven’t finished running tests yet.”

  “It’s capable of going underwater,” Ero said.

  “It is,” Erlanex said, “but you shouldn’t—”

  “I don’t really care what I should do.”

  Ero grinned and accelerated towards the sea, the construct responding to his every whim. The surface of the water approached at shocking velocity, and he hit it with enough force to crumple a ship’s hull. A geyser of water plumed upward as he sank beneath the surface. The impact didn’t even hurt, and he had no reason to breathe, so he glided underwater as easily as he had in the air.

  “Diagnostics are coming back clean,” Erlanex said. “The construct was originally designed as a mechanism for engineers to explore underwater and underground. It was only later that the military converted it into a weapon.”

  Ero curved upward and exploded from the water. “What weapons do I have?”

  “The construct’s entire body is composed of charged photons,” Erlanex said. “You could flatten a building if you wanted to.”

  “Time for the next test,” Ero said.

  He curved back south and flew to Ilumidora, streaking through the sky like a tiny starship. Light bled off his form, spilling into his wake. He saw the city and dropped towards the square next to the Gate. Adjacent to the square, an early structure had been built as an outpost. Now abandoned, it was scheduled to be torn down. Ero dropped to it and flipped so his feet pointed down. The building filled his vision until he hit.

  The small structure of stone and wood exploded like it had been hit by a meteorite from space. Bits of wood flew above neighboring buildings, while stones simply shattered. In the center of the small crater, Ero laughed and lifted his hand. It still looked like flesh, but light glowed beneath his skin.

  “Tests are complete,” Erlanex said sourly. “You used just six percent of the construct’s power.”

  “It’s perfect,” Ero crowed.

  Then he saw their faces.

  On the roofs of nearby buildings, he spotted the many augments that had seen the test. They were rightfully awed. But it was not just shock on their faces. The thousands of augmented slaves, who had demonstrated abilities beyond anything the Krey Empire had ever seen, gazed upon the construct with a darker emotion: fear. And in that moment, Ero understood why Skorn had wanted him to test the construct in front of them. His brother wanted them to remember that their augments may be powerful, but they were no match for krey engineering. Skorn wanted them to remember their place.

  “My turn,” Erlanex called eagerly.

  “No,” Ero said. He lifted free of the crater and floated towards the crate. “I think we’re done testing for the day.”

  “You’re going to go first and refuse me a test?” Erlanex asked.

  “I want to run some diagnostics myself,” Ero said. He tried to pretend he didn’t see the many terrified faces. “Set it up at the designated location and leave it locked to prevent any use.”

  Erlanex obviously wanted to argue, but Ero stepped back onto the pedestal and mentally turned the key. His consciousness spun, and it seemed like he was falling backward. As he opened his eyes, he was back on the ground in his own body. The construct’s features were morphing back in place.

  “That’s it?” Erlanex demanded.

  “For today.” Ero stood and dusted his cloak before turning to the Ilumidora Gate.

  “Where are you going!?”

  “To speak to Skorn
,” Ero muttered.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Ero Gated to the City of Dawn. When he arrived, he used his holoview to send a query to Skorn, who was testing a new group of slaves in the experiment facility. Ero went to the underground testing facility and took an ascender to a lower level.

  Erlanex had finished the augment testing facility only a few weeks ago, and it was pristine. The corridors were wide and open, extending through the underside of the hill. The ceilings were lofty, allowing dakorian soldiers to walk with ease, and the walls were the Lorenwhite seracrete that Laurik had demanded. Siena had killed her before she could enjoy it, and Ero smiled at the memory. He hadn’t heard anything from Siena in weeks, and his worry mounted with each passing day.

  The corridor of the testing center intersected with numerous augmentation chambers, as well as holding cells. The facility contained two halves: the krey and dakorian side, and the human side. The slaves were brought in by starship and loaded into dozens of large holding cells, where they were stored until each could undergo the augmentation procedure. A dakorian then guided them to a subterranean Gate where they teleported to Ilumidora. Other dakorians and assigned overseers taught them how to use their augments, all under the direction of the krey scientists.

  Ero spotted his brother through an open door and swerved into the observation room. With floor-to-ceiling holos on one side, the room allowed krey scientists and dakorians to monitor the slaves undergoing the procedures. Skorn was leaning over a control panel, watching a human female grimace as the power conduits pumped energy into her genetic code.

  “Her genetic matrix is different than the others,” a krey scientist said. Ero vaguely recognized him as Grunhal.

  “A supreme augment?” Skorn asked.

  “No,” he replied. “But it looks like she might possess an augment we have not seen before.”

  “Mark her for close observation. And make sure her earring has a location tag.”

  “I recommend we put her in an isolated cell here on the island until we know what she can do,” another scientist said.

  Skorn folded his arms and tapped his elbow in thought. “Agreed. But keep the location lock on her earring.”

  “You think she will be able to teleport out of here?” Grunhal scoffed.

  “We have augments that can manipulate lightning,” Skorn replied. “I’m not taking any chances.”

  “Lightning?” Ero asked. “Really?”

  “It’s more dangerous than it sounds,” Skorn said with a distracted nod.

  “It looks like she might do more damage to herself than anything else.” Pravena, another krey scientist, leaned back in his seat and smiled at Ero. “How did the test go?”

  “Flawless,” Ero said, recalling the sheer power with a smile.

  Pravena eyed him with amusement. “And by that, you mean it was fun.”

  “It was glorious.”

  “Maybe I can have a turn sometime,” Pravena said.

  “We have three more constructs slated for delivery to the drop site. I’m sure you can have a turn.”

  “Isolate the slave in experiment room seventeen,” Skorn said, pointing to a holo. “He’s going to be trouble.”

  Ero stepped further into the room and watched the holo. The human, a huge man with a shock of black hair to his neck, was struggling in the grip of a dakorian. Ero nodded in appreciation as the man tried to strike the bone-armored soldier. It bloodied his fist, but at least he was bold.

  “What’s his augment?” Grunhal asked.

  “Looks like . . .” Pravena checked the holo and then nodded. “Fire, and an animal augment.”

  Grunhal laughed scornfully. “Maybe he can talk to rodents.”

  “Or the giant cats we spotted in the north,” Ero mused. “The dakorians say they’re ten feet long and quite ferocious.”

  Skorn waved in dismissal. “It doesn’t matter. Talking to beasts won’t be an augment in high demand.”

  Grunhal pointed to the diagnostic. “His fire talent might increase his value.”

  “For now, we are just gathering information,” Skorn said. “Keep them all unless they’re too violent.”

  “Wouldn’t it be easier if we built a machine capable of augmenting every human on a planet?” Ero asked.

  All three rotated to face him, and Skorn gave a sour chuckle. “My brother the genius.”

  “Wait, you think we can do that?” Grunhal scoffed.

  Pravena was nodding. “Maybe. Erlanex could probably build the machine, and if we had sufficient power, it would spread a wave of charged particles through the atmosphere that would augment any human it passed over.”

  “Add it to your research,” Skorn said. “I want to know if that’s a real possibility.”

  “I’ll get right on it,” Grunhal said.

  “No,” Skorn said curtly, “Pravena can handle the augment forge. You stay on the slaves.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re not as good as her,” Skorn said bluntly.

  Ero grinned at the krey’s sudden anger. Then Skorn threaded past him in the doorway and headed up the corridor. Ero fell into step beside him, his thoughts on the two scientists. Both had joined House Bright’Lor with little information except for the offered contract. Like all the rest of the krey now serving the blue-eyed House, they’d been shocked to discover they were now in charge of a highly illegal product. Some, like Grunhal, had been dismayed, but Pravena had been delighted with the potential of augmented slaves.

  “Something on your mind?” Skorn asked.

  “Actually, yes,” Ero said.

  “About the construct?”

  “Why did we have to test it at Ilumidora? You should have seen their faces. They were terrified.”

  “Then I’d say it was successful,” Skorn said.

  He paused at a large floor-to-ceiling window. On the other side, the black-haired human was still attempting to fight the dakorian. Trickles of fire spilled off his arms and splattered on the floor, while the dakorian, a female named Rexia, dragged him from the room.

  “I don’t understand why it’s necessary,” Ero said.

  “What’s necessary?” Skorn asked, his attention on his holoview.

  “That we have to instill such fear in the slaves.”

  Skorn rotated to face him. “What emotion would you like them to feel?”

  “I don’t know.” Ero shrugged, unable to articulate what bothered him. “I just think they don’t need to be crushed all the time.”

  “There are some things of which I am absolutely certain,” Skorn said. “One of them is that slaves must feel a certain measure of fear to prevent an uprising. This is even more important now that they have their augmentations.”

  “You don’t think the dakorians are enough of a deterrent?”

  Skorn pointed to the hall where Rexia had taken the black-haired human. “Not anymore. While Reklin’s family has proven to be loyal, they are not as brutal as most soldiers. They are firm, and their combat skills are exceptional, but they show a marked reservation when it comes to punishment. In addition, we only have a few hundred soldiers and fifty thousand slaves. It’s a recipe for conflict. The constructs are essential. And the slaves need to know to fear their power. Trust me.”

  The tension between them had not lowered since Skorn had drawn a weapon. When such conflicts had threatened them in the past, Ero had been the one to back down, but this time he hadn’t retreated, so they were both on edge.

  Skorn gave him a searching look. “You can’t let your fondness for Siena blind you to the rest. They’re all slaves. And if they are not reminded of their place, they will rise up and fight. The constructs will keep the peace. They exist for the safety of the humans.”

  Ero knew he was right, and yet it still felt wrong. But he was unwilling to spark more conflict with his brother. Not with Dragorn’s upcoming tribunal. Their survival might depend on their unity.

  “Perhaps you’re right.”

  S
korn was unconvinced, but he nodded. “We’ve burned through the investment we got from Laurik, Wylyn, and Olana. We’ve got enough left to operate, but I don’t have enough to bribe any other Voices to find out what Dragorn is up to. We cannot afford an uprising.”

  “You’ll find another source of income,” Ero said. “You always do.”

  “I appreciate your confidence,” Skorn said. “So tell me, was operating the construct as much fun as I hear?” He smiled, and although it was obviously forced, Ero was grateful for the effort.

  “And so much more,” Ero said.

  Skorn’s holo beeped, and he activated the message. Skorn frowned as he read the text. “It looks like we have an update.”

  “What is it?”

  “My contact in the Imperial military. It seems Reklin was spotted with Visika at his former quarters on Valana. Quel tried to apprehend them and was killed.”

  “Malikin’s Bloodwall is dead?” Ero grinned. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in ages.”

  “Agreed,” Skorn said, “but Malikin is going to retaliate.”

  “What’s he going to do?” Ero scoffed. “He can’t hit us, and we don’t care if he goes after the Burning Ghosts.”

  “He’s going to target someone,” Skorn said. “And my guess is Dragorn.”

  “You think the Burning Ghosts are his ally?”

  Skorn gained what Ero privately called his thinking face. “Possibly, but it’s very risky. Allying with the most prominent criminal organization in the galaxy threatens the stability of a House. Dragorn’s not that reckless.”

  “He is that desperate,” Ero countered.

  Skorn began nodding. “Let’s see if anyone has paid him a visit recently, shall we?”

  Skorn rotated and left. Ero hurried to catch up. “How are we supposed to do that?”

  “I may or may not have installed a monitoring code in the vid recorders in our father’s quarters.”

  “You hacked Condemnation?” Ero was impressed. Skorn was good, but Imperial networks were impregnable.

  “After Dragorn decided to move up his scheduled tribunal, I figured it was only prudent we kept an eye on him.”