Nemesis

by Christian Kallias

  “That’s a neat trick, do you have a synthesizer built into your desk?”

  “Not exactly, there’s one in the room, but Yanis was kind enough to install the latest generation transporters in this facility, and I couldn’t pass the opportunity to have it installed in my office as well.”

  Daniel grabbed his cup and blew on it before taking a timid sip, evaluating the temperature of the steamy liquid.

  “So, we’re beaming down coffee now?”

  Altair smiled. “So to speak. That’s one of the advantages of this Alliance. While Yanis and Cedric managed to build a crude teleportation system back when my fleet was trying to invade Earth, the pooling of technical knowledge from all the different races of the Alliance has allowed us to make substantial jumps forward these past few months. Beaming technology, in particular. I’m beaming in and out of the office on a daily basis, that’s how advanced and safe that tech has become in a short amount of time.”

  Daniel took another sip of his drink.

  “Good coffee, thanks. I take it access to the Asgardian tech has made that particular trick easier.”

  “Yes, the Asgardian beaming technology is definitely the most advanced in the Alliance, and our implementation of it is closely modeled after theirs.”

  “What about their hyperspace engines? We could use their speed.”

  “Indeed, but integrating that tech with our ships’ designs has been problematic. Asgardians are one of the only races that don’t use quadrinium to power their ships’ hyperdrive engines. The resource they do use is a naturally occurring crystal that’s only native to Asgard. Which makes it hard for us to mainstream the tech since the crystal is both rare and very hard to mine.”

  “Perhaps there are other worlds on which it can be found.”

  Altair drank from his cup.

  “Yes, that’s one of the many things I’m hoping the Alkyonidon Station can help us with. Establish a central place for trade so that every world in the Alliance can help reap its benefit. But, that’s a conversation for another day, that is, if you’re interested in my proposal.”

  Daniel finished his coffee and placed the cup back on the yellow glowing circle on Altair’s desk. The cup beamed away.

  “Not to sound ungrateful or anything, but do you mind if I take a few days to think it over?”

  “Of course not, Daniel. It will take months for the station to be fully operational, though I’m hoping we can staff it with a skeleton crew within a few weeks. I don’t need the CO to be there before that happens. Which gives you plenty of time to decide.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate it. I take it we have the Gorgar to thank for having the station built so rapidly?”

  “Absolutely, they’ve almost finished with the central deck of the station already. It’s a marvel the speed at which they can build.”

  “Yeah, it’s a marvel, as long as our goals are aligned, that is.”

  Altair finished his coffee, placed the cup on his desk, and watched it disappear.

  “Yes, that particular alliance took a lot of doing, and whether it will stand the test of time still needs to be determined. But for the time being, the Gorgar race seems to recognize that our shaky start, while unfortunate, was a necessary one. They won’t admit it openly of course; their leaders are proud that way. But even if they won’t say it out loud, they feel partially responsible for many of the millions that died in the war. They were, after all, though unwillingly, arming the Furies.”

  “The Furies may have used them first, but then so did we near the end. Off the record, and on a personal level, that decision of ours still doesn’t sit well with me. Not our finest hour…”

  “No, I suppose not. These were desperate times, and like you, I’m not particularly proud of how we handled it.”

  “Speaking of Gorgars, it was good seeing Tar’Lock yesterday. Though he left shortly before we met with you and Ryonna. I take it he’s still mad at her?”

  Altair looked straight into Daniel’s eyes for a few seconds before blinking and looking away.

  “You’d have to ask her. I’d rather not interfere in their affairs.”

  “Well,” said Daniel with a smile, “thanks again for the coffee. I appreciate you offering me the position.”

  Both men got up and shook hands.

  “You’re welcome, Daniel. Always a pleasure, and I’m looking forward to hearing what you decide.”

  “Likewise, Altair. I’ll try to give you an answer in a few days.”

  Spiros was working on an upgrade to the shield matrix design for the latest generation of Alliance destroyer fresh off the assembly line. While the war was over, the work to improve both weapons and defensive technologies was not. Emperor Altair, who presided over the council for the Earth Alliance, was wary of letting the Alliance lower its guard and be vulnerable to another attack.

  That’s a concern Spiros could easily get on board with. After all, they knew little to nothing about the Spectres, and while the Furies had finally been dealt with, killing Tanak’Vor had been incredibly difficult. If more of his race were out there, the Earth Alliance needed to make sure they would be prepared for them. The ship they engaged during the last days of the war, a spider ship, was technologically more advanced than anything the Alliance possessed, and that was the reason why the Emperor had given him his current assignment. So here he was, in space again, inside the latest shipyard, working on improving the new destroyers’ shields as well as new weapons to throw at future enemies. For a moment, it reminded him of his research days on Damocles-3. It felt like another lifetime and another Spiros.

  In many ways it was. Thanks to Chase transferring Spiros’ soul to a new and improved clone, he currently had the body of a thirty-year-old, when, in fact, he was significantly older than that.

  Part of him wished he had never been brought back to life. But he knew that way of thinking was selfish. Even if his reunion with Gaia had been short and the pain of her sacrifice still fresh and agonizing, deep down he knew he wouldn’t have wanted to miss a minute of their time together.

  Spiros had been back to active duty for a little over two months. He was seeing a counselor to help him grieve the loss of Gaia. But no matter how much he talked about her in these sessions, the fact remained that he missed her more than anyone could ever comprehend.

  An incoming transmission interrupted his train of thought. It came from a StarFury. When Spiros accepted the call, Chase’s face filled the holo-screen.

  “Chase! You’re the last person I expected to hear from today. How have you been doing?”

  “Hello, Spiros. I’ve been better, but thanks for asking. Of all my friends, I’m sure you’re the one that has a better inkling as to what I’ve been feeling lately.”

  Of course, Spiros knew what Chase was alluding to. For all intents and purposes, he had lost Sarah, along with their unborn child, and had become estranged with a lot of his friends, which was something that had progressively happened to him as well. While Cedric, Yanis, and even Kvasir had been very good colleagues, the bond that once united them seemed to have diminished as of late. Perhaps Spiros was partly responsible for that as he had willingly sought out solitude over socializing.

  “I do,” said Spiros solemnly, “and I’m sorry to hear you’re still grieving. But Chase, if I may, at least Sarah isn’t dead; there’s still a chance, no matter how small, that you could bring her back. I would give up everything to be in your position.”

  Chase frowned, sadness crawling behind his eyes.

  “I know, Spiros. I’m sorry, poor choice of words.”

  “Don’t sweat it, my friend. I understand. We all have our crosses to bear.”

  “Thank you for your understanding and for your friendship. It means a lot to me. I’m not sure I’m worth it. After all, I’m the one who asked Gaia to find the blink drive. I would think you’d want nothing to do with me since I’m directly responsible for her…sacrifice.”

  Spiros had often gone down the path of bl
aming others when the pain was too strong after losing Gaia. But eventually, he realized that she would disapprove of him for blaming Chase. Without the Atlantian tech, as well as Gaia’s brave sacrifice, Earth would have fallen.

  “It was her choice to make, Chase, you didn’t force her to do anything she wasn’t willing to do on her own. And if you hadn’t asked, we might have lost the war. I don’t blame you for any of it; I can’t and not to mention I think she’d hate me if I did. Sometimes life is unfair, as you well know.”

  Chase nodded.

  “But I’m sure you’re not calling me to talk about any of this,” Spiros continued. “Is there something I can do for you?”

  “Am I that transparent? Fair enough. I’m indeed calling for something else entirely. I don’t know how to ask you.”

  “Then just ask.”

  “Okay...I’ve decided to take a ship to the unknown regions of space.”

  “To try to find a cure for Sarah?”

  “Yes. It seems everything we’ve tried in conjunction with the Earth Alliance doctors is not yielding any results, so I’m left with little choice but to try something new. I’ve been thinking about it for months, and it seems that looking for an answer beyond known space is my best hope for finding something, anything, to help Sarah. However, I don’t feel at ease with the idea of taking a human crew aboard the ship. This is my responsibility, and I can’t ask others to risk their lives.”

  “You can’t possibly take such a journey on your own. You’ll need a crew to mend the ship, and let’s be realistic, you may need someone for company. Not to mention you’ll need someone to tend to you should you get injured.”

  “Hence, my calling you. I—I’d like to ask you to consider creating an artificial crew, clone bodies with AIs powering them, but before you object, I’m thinking something similar to the AIs we use for our own ships’ computers, and perhaps a blank Gaia canvas like you used on your last mission. I know I shouldn’t be asking you this—”

  “But you are…”

  Spiros still felt a sting at the mention of her name. They said time heals all wounds, but it would take significantly more time to heal this particular one.

  “Look,” Spiros said. “I’m not sure the Earth Alliance would allow us to do this. In fact, I’m certain they’d refuse, which is why you’re asking me directly. I know that the risk of an evil AI emerging from a blank Gaia canvas is small, but it’s a risk, nonetheless. Currently, the Alliance is limiting all research related to artificial intelligence and with good reason. I’m not even allowed to improve her basic template to help me with my own research. And just like your proposal, that would result only in an automaton to help me in my daily tasks. At first, I didn’t understand what the difference was; after all we still use our ship’s AIs. But we’ve been asked to implement hardwired fail-safes to make sure these AI can’t or won’t even consider interacting with a body of any shape or form.”

  “And yet we have drones on the Starfuries.”

  “They can hardly be thought of as AIs. They’ve been programmed with your macros and fighting tactics.”

  “Are you telling me there isn’t a heuristic OS that decides which tactic of mine to utilize in combat and that it’s not AI based?”

  “Alright, I guess as long as a drone doesn’t go haywire and start attacking our own ships, they’re willing to turn a blind eye. I, for one, can’t blame them. Gaia 2 killed me after all.”

  “I understand, which is why I’m trying to cut through the red tape and bypass the Earth Alliance altogether on this one. So I’m asking you, as a friend, to grant me a personal favor.”

  “I see...It’s that kind of request then?”

  “Yes. I know it’s not an easy one, and if it makes you uncomfortable or if you don’t want to help me, know that I’ll understand.”

  “Alright, then. I’ll need to think about this one, Chase.”

  “Fair enough. Before I can set out to the unknown regions, I first need to secure a ship anyway, and I hope Altair will allow me to commandeer one.”

  “I don’t see why he would refuse you, of all people.”

  “The Alliance is now under a council of rulers, and Altair is only one of its members. In the past, as an admiral, I could have made that decision on my own, but as you know, I resigned my commission.”

  “Regretting that decision?”

  Chase chuckled. “Today perhaps...But, no, not really. I was in no frame of mind to deal with Alliance business after what happened. And, frankly, I don’t think I can ever be that type of leader again.”

  “Never say never.”

  “Well, in this case, I do. When I am at the forefront of things, people tend to die.”

  Spiros felt like arguing that point, but he knew better not to.

  “That’s your prerogative, I guess. I can’t say I agree with it, but you already know that. Look, I’ll do my best to give you my answer shortly. Thanks for calling, it’s good seeing you again.”

  “Likewise, Spiros. Thank you.”

  2

  Ares felt a pleasant sensation, like he was floating. It reminded him of a certain Olympian flower and the high provided when inhaling its pollen. His sister, Athena, was quite fond of the recreational drug.

  Athena.

  Had she survived the Fury War? Wait. . .Why was he conscious in the first place?

  Though his consciousness was not yet able to give him a clear visual of what was going on around him, his senses were slowly coming back to him. Gradually, his vision returned, and he got a clearer picture of where he was: in the blackness of space. Drifting.

  He no longer was inside Aphroditis’ clone body but back to his pure post-mortem energy form.

  As his high receded, Ares felt displaced and lost. The space around him didn’t seem right. It felt alien somehow. Was he en route to Elysium? Or was he there already? Had Chase destroyed Erevos and the Furies once and for all? Was his sister still alive? His mind quickly saturated with a million questions, overwhelming the former God of War.

  Ares tried to calm his mind by emptying it of all thoughts, which seemed to help his senses return to normal. Now grounded in the present, his mind eased up enough to try to interpret where he was. Around him, he could see asteroids and metallic debris, most likely wreckage from destroyed ships. Looking at the asteroids, he got a strange feeling, like perhaps they were remnants of a destroyed planet.

  While that was something he wasn’t certain about, Ares had been responsible for the destruction of enough worlds to recognize this wasn’t a simple asteroid field.

  Could all this be what was left of Erevos and the orbiting ships taken out when the planet exploded? This meant the soul ships had managed to shift Erevos back to the alternate dimension before destroying it.

  One question lingered in his mind, though. Why was he still alive in energy form? Shouldn’t he have been vaporized in the explosion of the Fury world?

  Ares focused his mind on his friend and pupil, Chase, and tried to send him a telepathic message like he had done hundreds of times before, across impossible distances.

  Chase? Can you hear me?

  No answer.

  Aphroditis? Father? Anybody?

  Wherever he was, he was out of reach of the people he knew. All signs pointed to him being in the alternate dimension. Everything around him felt alien. The position of the stars looked like nothing he recognized. Even the way he sensed the building blocks of the universe gave him completely different feedback than usual. Wherever he was, he had never been here before, be it in energy form or before his body perished at the hands of Argos.

  He floated around the area in search of clues. He came upon the debris of more ships, which allowed him to form a mental picture of what type of ships the wreckage had once been. Even though their hulls had been exposed to space and many had been blown to smithereens, a couple of ships’ main hull silhouettes had remained mostly intact. They looked like dark, giant spiders.

  With no planet in
sight, Ares didn’t know what to do next. He expanded his mind trying to detect any form of life within light years around him. Because space itself felt so different, he couldn’t project his mind as far as he used to. The sensory feedback he received could only be described as a negative tingling.

  This definitely has to be the Spectres’ dimension.

  The thought was unpleasant. In fact, even devoid of a body, he felt a sense of dread just by being in this universe. It was dark, oppressive, and downright creepy.

  Ares pushed forward and eventually sensed a traveling ship approaching the area at extremely high velocity, perhaps the Spectre’s version of hyperspace. Though it felt more like the ship was instantly hopping from one point to another over long distances, and for a fraction of a second, blinking in and out of existence until the next hop. Hopefully, in this universe, just like on his own, he wouldn’t be detected as long as he remained invisible. It took a while to get a good lock of the ship in his mind, but eventually, he did, and he teleported inside.

  The ship was cold, the floor, the walls, and the ceiling of what appeared to be internal corridors were a dark shade of dirty chrome, and there didn’t seem to be anyone in his direct vicinity. He roamed through the ship until he finally met someone or more precisely—something. First, he saw a few metallic spider drones moving about the corridors, producing nerve-wracking metallic clickety-clicks with each step. They didn’t seem to detect his presence, which Ares took as a good omen.

  Further roaming the ship, he arrived at what he surmised was the bridge and his first contact with organic beings in this dimension. The aliens that served as the crew were thin and tall humanoids with a strange fur on their black skin. It was similar to the hair found on spiders. Upon his first good look at their heads, he froze. They had eight small legs wrapped from the back of their furry skulls all the way around what served as a face filled with multiple red eyes. They looked like a hybrid between a human and a spider, their faces straight out of a nightmare. Their large fanged mouths made the most unpleasant sound as they spoke.