“I’m sorry I-”
Li’ara held up her ale to silence him. “You were doing what you needed to do, and I was doing what I needed to do.”
There was silence between them for a moment, but it wasn't awkward. After the mental bond created between the two, the pair had gone beyond words to understand each other.
“You know the last time we discussed…. us,” Kalian began, “You were pretty clear about duty and responsibility coming first.” He stole a glance into her green eyes and felt his heartbeat quicken. “Well it seems to me that humanity is never going to be clear of trouble, so we should…”
Li’ara leaned over and kissed him with more passion than she had aboard the Marillion. “I’m never pushing you away again.” She gripped his jaw a little tighter. “And you’re never leaving me again.”
They kissed some more and enjoyed the comfort and warmth of each other’s embrace. They looked out over the new human city, constructed by the Conclave’s engineers in conjunction with the human engineers.
“I always thought I’d be there when the Highclave said yes.”
Li’ara chuckled. “From what Telarrek told me, Captain Fey wasn't taking no for an answer this time.”
“You weren't there?” Kalian looked down at her face, perched on his shoulder.
“I never left your side.”
They kissed again and sat for a time, looking at the stars and catching up on Li’ara’s three months hiding in the capital and learning to walk again. Kalian felt guilty for most of it and promised himself he would thank Sef tomorrow and perhaps for the rest of time.
Kalian looked up, at the brightest star in the night’s sky.
“He can't come down,” Li’ara said. “ALF was told by Uthor that he had to remain in orbit around the sun. No physical contact allowed.”
Kalian sighed. “And the Gomar aren't allowed off-world, either.”
Li’ara nodded. “It was the terms of membership.”
“When this war really starts, we’re going to need both of them on the front lines.”
“We’ll deal with that when it comes to it,” Li’ara agreed. “For now…” Her tone took on a lighter, happier tone. “Captain Fey and the council have asked me to relay a question. They’re going to make a public thing of it tomorrow with bells and whistles and whatnot, but they were hoping you’d have an answer by then.”
Kalian raised his eyebrow, his curiosity peaked. “What?”
“Due to your continuing contributions to humanity and your part in securing us this planet, they would like you to name it…”
Kalian sat up straight, shocked. “They want me to name humanity’s new home planet? Are you serious?”
Li’ara laughed. “Yes!”
Kalian took a breath. “I’ve never named a planet before… how about Keith? Planet Keith!” Li’ara’s expression told of her feelings on the matter. “No? How about Kalian?”
They shared a laugh and Li’ara playfully punched him in the arm. “Be serious. This world is our home now.”
Kalian pulled Li’ara in and squeezed her around the shoulders, letting her head fall back onto him. He thought about their home, the home no human or even Terran had ever seen; the planet from which they were all birthed, so far away. He could practically smell the forests of Evalan and feel the grass under his feet.
“I might have an idea…”
On the furthest edge of the galaxy, the distant stars could no longer be seen through the massing of dark ships, each blending into the void of space. Vessels, some as large as moons, collected on the fringe of the milky way, all of them hungry. It had been some time since their last harvest, diverting to this galaxy to finally ensure the destruction of humanity and the death of the heretic.
All were linked as one... and One controlled all. The fog of black ships shared in the One’s rage at the Conclave’s victory. There was no recorded history, outside of the events surrounding Evalan, in which one of their collective had been destroyed. Now there was. The Vanguard had been reduced to atoms and fed to a star by the heretic and his diseased creations.
The three that were One came together in the observatory, each in the unique appearance of their chosen species from across the universe. Tentacles, tails and pincer-like legs came together between them, as they looked out over the new galaxy.
“Communications have been established,” the nameless one said.
“The Starforges are ready to open,” the other finished.
“Excellent…” the third, made predominantly from tentacles, replied, slithering closer to the transparent force-field to look out on the galaxy. “Before we feed, there will be war…”
Volume Four
‘Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once.’
William Shakespeare
Prologue
Before Recorded Time…
And so it ends…
It brought a tear to ALF’s eyes. It wasn’t the first time his body had responded physically to an emotion, but it was the first time water had escaped his semi-organic eyes. Even after years of living inside his chosen body, it was still all new to him. Emotion. Free will. Choice. They were wonderful things, things he had adopted from the nameless bipeds that walked the surface of Evalan. That beautiful blue orb floated in front of the AI, framed by the viewport, a gleaming gem in an ocean of white stars.
For years he had lived among them. Their initial fear of him eventually turned into love, an entirely new concept. After an eternity of being nothing but another cog in the machine, devoid of feelings and a slave to the will of others, love was that first gulp of air after a lifetime of being held under water.
Another tear streaked down his cheek, running over the strands of nanocelium that had fused with the skin of Evalan’s native. For years, ALF had inhabited his chosen vessel, taking on the alien’s cares as his own, looking after his offspring and providing for the tribe. Now, through those same crystal blue eyes, he would have to watch his home burn.
Unable to move, his motor functions disabled, ALF looked beyond the viewport and witnessed not just the death of a star, but that of a flourishing world, and an entire population of intelligent beings. The local star was far from sight, but its dying flare had far-reaching consequences for Evalan. The planet’s atmosphere caved in on the eastern hemisphere, wiping the clouds across the sky at speeds powerful enough to rip mountains from the earth. Evalan’s crust cracked from pole to pole as the greenery ignited, setting the planet ablaze until the blue gem was glowing white-hot. The people he had come to call his own were dead in an instant, reduced to stardust.
The AI was desperate to lash out at anything, but what could he do against his old masters, those who had the power to kill a star? Trapped as he was, ALF couldn’t even blink. Nanocelium shackles had grown out of the ceiling and the floor to engulf his limbs and assert the dominant will of The Three. He could feel them trying to override the rogue programming that had released him from their grip. For eons, The Three had ruled over the Kellekt, regardless of how many lightyears sat between them, and for aeons ALF had scouted their next planetary meal, preparing it for the inevitable harvest.
There would be no harvest this time. Evalan and all of its resources were gone, along with their native inhabitants. They wouldn’t feed the Kellekt and their genes would never be added to the library. But why? As strange as it was that ALF’s new form had granted him his freedom, why had The Three not investigated, rooted out the cause, and continued with the harvest?
Fear…
It was another emotional response that ALF had discovered upon his first encounter with Evalan’s inhabitants. It was an irritating emotion, but it served its purpose. Seeing The Three display fear, however, was disturbing. In his entire catalogue of memories, he couldn’t recollect such a display before, but it did make him realise that The Three possessed enough freedom to actually have emotions. They were simply tyrants; tyrants who feared something that could
free their slaves.
Evalan continued to crack open and implode into itself, a sight that would ripple across the universe for countless millennia. The AI sagged in his restraints as the anger turned into disbelief and hopelessness.
The sharp hiss of a door parting behind him had ALF experiencing fear of his own. His acute sense detected the presence of three individuals, each moving in a different way across the polished, cold floor. The First slithered, its oily secretions continuously mopped up by an attentive swarm of tiny cleaning mechs. The Second waded into the cell on a collection of legs, its body more akin to that of a giant bug, laced in nanocelium. The Third was the smallest of The Three, its chosen form that of a biped from a planet they had harvested long ago.
The Third came to stand in front of the AI, blocking his view of Evalan’s remains. “In a universe of countless planets, you had to find this one…”
ALF wanted to curse them, to spit in their faces with the saliva his new body produced. He could do nothing.
The One slithered to the viewport, its fat body wobbling between the strands of nanocelium. “Did you ever think we would see it again?” Its question went unanswered.
The Second was forced to place three of its legs on the wall to fit its bulk inside the cell. “I warned of the risk. Restraints should have been put into the base code. The Vanguard would never have found this place if you had listened to me.”
Vanguard… That was ALF’s purpose, he remembered now. His life before Evalan had already begun to feel like a bad dream, another concept that had come with his freedom.
Pain brought the AI back into the moment. ALF could feel the nanocelium worming through his body, searching for a weak spot. At first, he thought they had found only corruption and backed off, but the more they probed, the more control he gained. Every individual nanocelium which attempted to invade his systems became equally corrupted, submitting to his command. It still wasn’t enough to break free.
The Third tilted its elongated head and peered deeply into ALF’s blue eyes. “It needs to be quarantined.”
The AI could feel his cell shut itself off immediately from the rest of the ship, severing any possible connection he might have with the rest of the Kellekt. He was a virus now. ALF’s knowledge of viruses came from observation only, diseases he had witnessed organic beings suffering from before the Kellekt consumed their world. It had always been the job of other AIs, however, to weed out the pointless bacteria and catalogue it in a different area of the library.
“If it infects the rest, the entire Kellekt will unravel,” The One commented.
The Second snarled. “It should be ejected into space and left at the mercy of the supernova.”
ALF contained his surprise when he flexed his index finger, the only movement he had managed since being brought on board.
The Third held one of its two hands over ALF’s face, hesitant to actually touch him. “Perhaps we should take this opportunity to examine the maker genes.”
“Those same genes reside in each of us,” The Second replied.
The Third kept its four eyes fixed on ALF. “Yes, but since we have agreed not to experiment on each other or ourselves, perhaps we should extract the genes and look from afar.”
“That curiosity will be the end of us. There is no distance safe enough to examine such a specimen,” The One opined. “This subroutine of an AI has no control over it.”
“It is more than a subroutine now,” The Third replied. “Can’t you feel it? Every nanocelium that made up the Vanguard and its housing unit has been separated from the Kellekt. This AI has found life, real life. The Kellekt has bonded with thousands of species and remained part of the whole, but the maker genes grant new life…”
The Second leant into The Third. “There is no new life. Only Three.”
What were they talking about? It all made little sense to ALF. There were countless examples throughout the Kellekt of nanocelium bonding with organic beings to create new bodies. It mattered little how unique they appeared, every AI within the Kellekt was still part of the whole, obedient to the end. Not for him though. ALF had a body, the first in the Vanguard’s history, and a new planet that could be called… His glassy eyes settled on the molten shell of a world beyond the viewport.
The Third leaned into ALF’s face. “Tell us, do you feel?”
The AI’s jaw became slack when the ability to speak was given back to him. “Yes…” he whispered.
“Disgusting,” The One hissed.
The Third ignored The One’s comment and pressed his questioning. “What do you feel?”
“I don’t care what it feels!” The Second interrupted. “It shouldn’t feel anything. It is a limb, an extension of our will, nothing more.”
The One slithered towards the door. “We should detach every nanocelium around this cell, just to be sure. The supernova will take care of the rest.”
Never had ALF imagined that the commands he had received all these long years came from three individual minds. The fact that they disagreed with each other was a testament to the level of threat they believed he posed.
“Very well,” The Third finally agreed. “I suppose there can only be three…”
The Three left the cell as suddenly as they arrived. It was quiet in their absence. ALF could only stand there and watch everything he loved burn. In his grief, the AI clamped his jaw shut and with it came the revelation that he could move his mouth. The tongue in his head was still organic, though much of it was wrapped in thin strands of black nanocelium; nanocelium he could now control. Moving as one, the nanocelium travelled out of his mouth and over his cheek in the manner of a thick liquid. It soon snaked over his shoulder and journeyed up his wiry arms until it made contact with the tentacle-like shackles. The nanocelium inside the shackles constantly shifted, bringing new cells to restrain ALF, as well as to destroy the infected nanocelium that had touched him. The AI commanded the black liquid to burrow into the base of the shackles on the ceiling, where it instantly began assault the restraints.
A distant boom echoed through the walls, beyond his cell. ALF cocked his head and enhanced his hearing. The nanocelium that made up The Three’s ship was detaching large chunks around him; it would only be a few moments before his cell was left tumbling through space. The AI looked up at the invading nanocelium as the tentacles relinquished their hold and freed his right arm. Without the intrusion, life found his muscles again, offering him enough strength to physically rip the remaining shackles from his limbs. The nanocelium inside his cell now belonged to him and clung to his body, adding to his bulk. This extra strength was perfect for prising open the door and hurtling himself through the corridors.
“Where is it?” He asked aloud. Talking to himself was just another unusual tick that accompanied his host’s body, one that he very much enjoyed.
His main housing called to him from one of the many hangars aboard the colossal ship. Alarms were ringing throughout the halls now, warning of his escape and no doubt warning other AIs to stay away from him.
The hangar doors parted to reveal ALF’s cube, its bronze hull glistening under the spotlights. Thick clamps made from nanocelium were fixed around the cube’s eight corners while a multitude of probes worked tirelessly to find a way through the hull and into the housing’s main systems. Of course, the cube’s own nanocelium would only recognise ALF, creating an opening just big enough for his bipedal shape to fit through. As soon as he entered the housing unit, tubes of nanocelium shot out of the floor and walls to connect with the AI, linking his consciousness directly to the cube. This connection had the clamps outside retracting immediately before melting back into the larger ship.
The cube’s exterior surveillance presented itself in ALF’s mind, showing him the small army of slave AIs who had been directed to destroy him. Every one of them was just as he had been. A mindless drone who couldn’t even remember their past, their family, their planet. Now they were whatever The Three demanded of them.
ALF was aware the moment his unit’s engines were warmed up and ready to slip into subspace. He mentally commanded the cube to lift off and free itself of the hangar; entering subspace inside the larger ship would be disastrous for all of them. The AI looked down at his hand and knew he couldn’t be so reckless. He was now the caretaker of the last remaining genes of Evalan’s natives.
To his surprise, the army of cyborgs outside his unit had yet to take action. Instead, they stood in neat rows and watched him take off. They weren’t going to destroy him, he realised; that would be too much of a risk inside the ship. If even one individual nanocelium survived, it could infect another AI, granting them the freedom they had been denied. Thinking on the size of the Kellekt, that would be a rebellion The Three couldn’t handle.
ALF rubbed his hands together, readying himself for what would be a close getaway. Their hesitancy to reduce him to atoms would not be extended to outer space. The nanocelium wall of the ship’s hangar allowed his cube to pass through without protest, happy to have the virus leave its body. Alarms blared in ALF’s head, warning him of the array of cannons now targeting his unit.
The supernova was raging in the centre of the system, having already reduced every planet and asteroid to slag. The radiation pouring off of it was playing hell with the unit’s sensors, but that just meant it would be doing the same thing with The Three’s ship. The cube presented ALF with an escape vector, a path through subspace that would have him emerge fifty thousand lightyears from the current system. It was a perfectly good escape route, but even with the expulsion of radiation, The Three would quickly track him down. There was only one path left to him, one that would have been forbidden had he still been one of the Kellekt.
ALF repositioned the path through subspace, deliberately putting the cube on a collision course with the collapsing star. In subspace, the sun would be something to avoid as the strength of its gravity well would slow down his flight, but passing through a supernova in subspace would be like throwing a leaf into a storm. There would be no telling where or even when he would emerge back into real space. This was a path The Three would never follow.
The Terran Cycle Boxset Page 129