Captain Fey sat back, regretting her speech - but truly unsure of any other way of putting it - and watched the frozen faces of those before her slowly react with expressions that emulated her crazy explanation.
The spiky-haired colonel cocked her automatic rifle. “Permission to escort our guests back to the airlock.”
Captain Holt held up his hand to calm the Raider, his own face hard to read. Fey got the impression he was weighing her up, looking for any cracks or signs of deception.
Holt leaned forward. “So you’re saying that not only is everyone we ever knew dead, but Earth and Century are… what? Gone?”
“There’s a lot more,” Li continued with a grave tone. “That’s just the rough outline.”
“Tell them about Kalian,” Jim nudged the captain’s arm, much to her irritation.
“Who’s Kalian?” Holt asked in a slightly hostile tone.
Fey hesitated. “Kalian is… complicated. I can give you all the details and prove everything I say, but either way, we end up at the same outcome; right now we’re an endangered species and our struggle to survive is ongoing. Every life aboard this ship is pivotal in our being able to move forward. That being said, a level of trust is going to be required. Your Solar Drive needs fixing now, and the aliens we travelled with have the technology to do it, as well as undo any radiation poisoning.”
Captain Holt lifted his chin and exhaled slowly. “We’re going to need more than hour…” He looked at Commander Vale and rested a clenched fist inside the other. “Here’s what we’re going to do; my medical staff are going to take a scan and blood sample to verify that you are indeed humans. In the meantime, I want every detail, not the rough outline. If I’m going to make informed decisions then I’m going to need to know everything. Will you agree to this?”
“We will.” Fey didn’t hesitate. They were sitting in a radioactive time-bomb; they didn’t have time to argue.
5
The cube-mind surveyed the massive bridge of the Starforge. The crew was no longer required to man their stations since the new cube had been installed. The station was essentially self-automated now, completely under their control.
Using Malekk’s hand, the cube-mind commanded a tentacle of nanocelium to worm out of every digit. The black snakes wriggled down to the main console and burrowed into the hardware. Both the cube-mind and the newly installed cube became one, as they once were with the Vanguard. After their connection was made, it was impossible to distinguish between the two conscious minds.
That connection lasted point three of a second before the link was severed and the tendrils of nanocelium were rejected from the console. Malekk’s hand retracted as if scalded. Before the cube-mind could fully form the question as to what was happening, the installed cube sent a single message through their wireless link.
Infected…
Malekk’s hand closed into a fist and the cube-mind experienced anger, an example in itself that the infection was taking root. Such emotions were eradicated eons ago when the Vanguard became a single entity. The installed cube had rejected the link through fear of being infected by the Terran consciousness.
No, the cube-mind thought. Only I am capable of feeling fear, now that I am infected.
The console display flickered during a short burst of electromagnetism, emitted by the Terran - an emotional response for pubescent Terran. The realisation only angered the cube-mind all the more. It needed to learn more control and it needed to do it fast. The cube-mind was new to the realm of emotions, and if it lost control while inhabiting a Terran body it ran the risk of destroying the entire installation.
Descending into Malekk’s mind once more, the cube found the Terran floating in a shallow pool of water that went on for as far as the eye could see. Malekk was exhausted after receiving the mental punishment, making his mind perfect for ravaging. Dipping into his wealth of knowledge, the cube-mind sifted through Malekk’s two thousand years of life and absorbed everything he knew about controlling the Terran abilities.
The cube-mind returned to the real when it felt the Starforge drop out of sub-space. The decision must have been made by its installed kin, though the reason escaped it. The crescent station tilted to starboard and the giant rectangular viewport polarised from top-to-bottom. A red star drifted into the center of the screen, almost filling its edges. The sun was old, old enough to be emitting vast amounts of radiation capable of masking their presence.
Systems across the bridge came to life, as if on their own, while a continuous drone echoed through the station. The cube-mind inspected the main console and discovered the reason for the sudden burst of activity. The three starrilliums that lined the outer hull of the Starforge were coming online and charging the intrinium - but the energy wasn’t being funnelled into the engines.
Through the viewport, it was clear to see the mile-long bolts of purple lightning, firing around the forge’s interior. The pointed tips grew brighter, reaching for its inevitable crescendo. The Starforge’s interior gave birth to a singularity that expanded until it filled the entire crescent. The navigation system reported that the wormhole had been opened on the furthest edges of the galaxy, where even the stars dare not live.
The cube-mind stepped back from the view, a cold dread quickly sinking into its Terran bones. It was not an emotion the cube-mind found particularly helpful, nor did it make any sense. It appeared Malekk’s emotional state was starting to bleed through. The infection was spreading much faster than anticipated.
The nanocelium inside Malekk’s body altered their atomic structure and redefined their purpose, as they built a sub-space communicator where his liver usually sat. The frequency being transmitted through the singularity was easy to find, since the cube-mind had once been a part of it.
The voice that resounded in its head was overwhelming. The power of the Vanguard eclipsed the cube-mind in every way. By sending the cubes into Conclave space, the Vanguard had essentially released parts of itself and allowed those parts to regain independence. That independence was accompanied by obedience and unwavering loyalty. How could they be anything else? There were no memories of a time before the Vanguard sent them into the void, so long ago, when they had been sent to hunt down the heretic. Two cubes had been sent into what was now Conclave territory, while another two had been sent into the Terran Empire.
What progress has been made?
The cube-mind waited to see if the newly installed cube made a report. When there was no reply, the cube-mind assumed control of the conversation on their end. Thinking so independently didn’t come naturally and was often accompanied by insecurity.
All three Starforges are now controlled by a cube. They remain hidden for now, awaiting further command.
What became of the fourth station, in the Helteron Cluster?
The thought of reporting failure to the Vanguard evoked feelings of dread and fear. It was impossible to hide the emotions while a part of the link.
It was destroyed by the heretic…
You have had contact with the heretic?
There is nothing to fear. When we consume this civilisation, the heretic will be exposed and easily destroyed.
Fear is a construct we have no use for. Your corruption is evident. The Terran body will consume you soon. After your mission is completed you are to self-terminate. Reintegration is no longer an option.
That information should have been easy to comprehend, and yet the thought of ceasing to exist and never reintegrating filled the cube-mind with sorrow and terror.
I understand.
I did not ask if you understand. You are an extension of our will, nothing more.
For the first time in the cube-mind’s existence, it felt small. Apart from the whole, it was nothing more than a speck. This should not be a troubling thought, it shouldn’t even have been conjured in the first place - and yet it was. By joining with the Terran and breaking the only law they had, the cube-mind had doomed itself.
I joined with th
e Terran body for power, to destroy the one known as Kalian Gaines. With these abilities, I was able to kill the other Terran, Esabelle.
I? There is no I, only we. Killing one Terran was not worth the price of infection. You will self-terminate when ordered. When will the remaining humans be destroyed?
The Crucible is ready. The humans will be wiped out in the first wave of the attack.
There must be no chance of infection when the whole arrives.
I will see to it.
If you cannot, we will be forced to intervene. As the Vanguard, we must see the way paved for the whole.
The cube-mind felt another link bypass his nodes and interact with the installed cube in the heart of the Starforge. The message was hidden from him, but it ended with the forge being shut down, along with the singularity and any connection to the Vanguard. The chrono-metre on the console indicated that the entire conversation had taken place in just under a second.
6
The Advent pushed effortlessly through space, using its previous momentum to glide through Albadar’s solar system. The drive was powered down and all interior systems were running on minimal levels. It was just warm enough for the two inhabitants to sit comfortably in their seats, while the capital planet slowly came into view. Sat in the gloom, with only the console holographics for light, the planet was no bigger than Kalian’s thumbnail at this distance, but ALF had been quite clear on the safest way to approach the ancient planet.
“The array is not picking anything up,” Naydaalan said. “All bandwidths are dead.”
ALF appeared to rest a hand on the Novaarian’s chair, though it was all holographic illusion since the AI had no weight. “Shut down the array,” he said with urgency, scouring the viewport’s horizon for threats. “Basic life support and nothing else. Use Kalian as an array.”
“Use me as an array?” Kalian echoed, unsure of ALF’s meaning.
“Who knows what Savrick and the Gomar left in this system?” ALF didn’t take his eyes off the viewport. “The fact that Albadar is still here troubles me.”
“I get all that,” Kalian continued. “It’s the part about you using me as a communications array that I don’t get.”
ALF sighed. “Esabelle should have been teaching you the finer skills at your disposal.”
Kalian gave the AI a look that suggested he should drop that line of conversation immediately.
ALF cleared his non-existent throat and continued. “All transmissions, whether they be sub-space links or laser-guided, are a part of the physical universe. They travel through it as any particle does. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. When you tap into the universe you come into contact with everything, yes? All you need to do is look for those subtleties. If anything is broadcasting in this system, you should be able to feel its… hum.”
Kalian chewed over the explanation, scouring his memory to see if he had discovered such subtleties before. In truth he had never looked for them, preferring to use his abilities on physical and organic matter.
Naydaalan turned to the AI in his chair. “Why does the planet’s presence trouble you?”
ALF glanced at the Novaarian before returning his attention to the viewport. “The Gomar used Eclipse missiles at every opportunity. There are probably very few systems left in fact. I would wager that if you used the sensor array, you would discover an unusual amount of black holes in this region of space. With all that in mind, I can only imagine why Savrick left the capital system so intact.”
Kalian felt that part of his mind where the echo of Savrick still remained. Over time he had come to understand the Gomar in a way nobody ever could. After the death of T’lea, his wife, Savrick shut himself off from everyone, devoting himself to the cause. Kalian could see past the surface now and look deeper into his personality. He knew how hard it had been to place Esabelle inside the Gommarian - a battle he fought every day. Kalian could also see where his personality had been infected by the cube, making him angry and bitter.
“He left it as a monument…” Kalian announced, watching the planet swell in front of them. “To him, this is the tombstone of the Terran Empire.”
“Please Kalian,” ALF urged. “Purge anything that’s left of him from your mind. Having any part of his consciousness inside of you is dangerous.”
Kalian tapped his temple. “My mind, my rules.”
“The mind can be just as easily poisoned as the body,” ALF commented.
“With you in my ear every day, you think I don’t know that?” Kalian quipped, silencing the AI.
Naydaalan awkwardly looked from one to the other and turned back to his console. The building tension between Kalian and ALF was becoming palpable. There was simply no trust between them anymore. Kalian could see that the nanocelium was the singular clue that tied everything together, and although he couldn’t see the big picture yet, he could see that ALF was connected to it all. ALF created nanocelium, the very substance the cubes were made from, and yet he claimed to have no knowledge of their production.
“We should leave this system,” ALF warned. “There’s nothing here but graves. I have coordinates for the Criterion, my original housing. There may be answers there.”
“I want to see the planet.” Kalian ignored ALF’s comments and continued to stare at the world forming in front of them. This was the world.
Naydaalan replied, “Our first priority should be to secure a local Starforge, ensuring that we can establish a route back to Conclave space.”
Kalian wanted to disagree, but he wasn’t here alone, as originally planned. He was now responsible in part for Telarrek’s son and making certain that he returned to his home. There was a part of Kalian that wasn’t sure if he cared about returning. Li’ara’s death had left a hole in him that sapped him of any inhibition - the idea of getting lost in the galaxy was all too appealing. He tried not to think of all the humans that he had left behind, an endangered species that looked to him for some chance at a future. Looking at Naydaalan, Kalian realised that even that thought was selfish. The human race was not the only people under threat of annihilation. Just because the Conclave was made up of aliens didn’t make them any less real. Their lives mattered too.
“Give me a moment,” Kalian said.
The universe swallowed him up as he dropped into the cosmic soup. His consciousness expanded, passing through the layers of nanocelium that made up his exo-suit and beyond the Advent. The vastness of space awaited his open mind and he continued to explore. That emptiness was usually cold and dauntingly gargantuan, but this time Kalian settled into the nothingness and relaxed his awareness, allowing the universe to fill his mind. He was able to distinguish between the individual pieces of cosmic dust and refractory minerals that filled the star system like invisible fog. Expanding further, Kalian could even find their source, where the particles were denser, as the dust was expelled from the local sun. It was this very substance that condensed to build entire planets.
Kalian felt an unusual peace to know that despite whatever role intelligent design played in the creation of his people on Earth, they were all formed from stardust, the very thing that surrounded his mind right now.
Focus…
He imagined that it was Esabelle instructing him. Looking beyond the dust and unusual matter that barely clung to this dimension, Kalian searched for unnatural phenomenon. The universe was scatty and chaotic, it didn’t pulse at perfect intervals as the strange signal on the other side of the planet now did. Honing in on the signal, Kalian tried to feel out the source but felt his mind stretching too far.
His awareness snapped back in the blink of an eye, along with his head, which slammed into the cushioned rest. When his physical senses reigned supreme once more, Kalian opened his eyes and flexed his fingers, fitting back into his body.
“It’s too much,” he stated through laboured breath. “There’s something artificial on the other side of Albadar. It’s emitting some kind of pulse, but I can’t…
” Kalian looked at the planet, its northern hemisphere now dominating the viewport.
“You need to learn to look beyond the planet without going through the planet.” ALF used his softer teaching voice. “There’s too much physical matter to compute if you go through it. Your mind is more sophisticated than that now, Kalian. You’re still looking at the universe the way a person assess their environment. Everything is made of nothing. There are spaces between the atoms that make up the universe. You must allow your mind to flow through those spaces, to look beyond the planet as if it weren’t even there. Using this technique, I have seen Terran search neighboring solar systems from their bedrooms.”
Kalian was tired of ALF’s teaching. “And how many years training did they have?” he asked sarcastically.
ALF nodded slowly and arched his eyebrow, conceding. “Time has never been on your side, Kalian.” The AI smiled, offering his sympathies. “But don’t worry; soon you’ll learn that time is merely a construct designed by beings who measure the universe in decay, not growth. When you truly understand yourself and what you are, time will lose all meaning.”
The Terran Cycle Boxset Page 100