Legacy of the Argus

by E. R. Torre

  The General spoke with a slight slur.

  “Heavy drinking verified,” Sergeant Robbins said.

  “Given all we’ve been through, it’s a wonder we’re not all smashed,” Inquisitor Raven said. He arched his eyebrow. “Present company excluded, of course.”

  “I’m no angel, sir,” Sergeant Robbins said. “When this is done and assuming we survive, I’ll welcome a drink or six.”

  “And I might well join you,” Inquisitor Raven said. “Keep that drone still and recall the others.”

  “Sir, we haven’t concluded the full sear—”

  “Remain where you are and stay on guard,” Inquisitor Raven interrupted. “They want to talk? I’ll talk.”

  Inquisitor Raven walked through the Station’s corridors and passed the central food court. He noted the many items for sale behind glass cases. A set of shirts proudly proclaimed: I Visited Erebus!

  “Came to Erebus and all I got was this lousy shirt,” Inquisitor Raven muttered.

  There were floors above the one he was on and rooms for tourists to rest. There were bars, restaurants, and shops.

  According to the drones, they were all empty.

  Inquisitor Raven moved on, eventually reaching the common quarters. These areas were stripped down and far less glamorous than the tourist zones. He found a much smaller food station there and, off to its side, The Jackal Bar. Unlike the other food and drink stations, her doors were open.

  Inquisitor Raven spoke into his communicator.

  “I’m approaching the bar,” he said. “Stand by.”

  Inquisitor Raven entered the bar and spotted the people there. They hadn’t moved. The two sitting at the table at the far end of the bar watched him while General Jurgens cradled an empty shot glass. He motioned Inquisitor Raven to his side.

  Inquisitor Raven approached the man while noting the stock of liquors in the cabinets behind the counter. He recognized only a few brands.

  “General Jurgens,” Inquisitor Raven said.

  He noted the General’s pale skin and nervous demeanor. The man was borderline drunk and appeared very frightened.

  The General reached for a bottle and slid it to the Inquisitor. He laid his cup on the counter and grabbed another, clean glass and set it next to his.

  “It’s best you take a shot, Inquisitor,” he said. “It helps. It helped me, certainly.”

  Inquisitor Raven grabbed the bottle. Before pouring it he read the label.

  “Limon Picante.”

  The brand meant nothing to him. He popped the bottle’s top and filled the two shot glasses. The Inquisitor and General Jurgens drank.

  “Not bad,” Inquisitor Raven said. “Reminds me of Blue Quartz.”

  “Hope you appreciate our local spirits.”

  “I could learn to,” Inquisitor Raven said. He set his cup down and poured another drink. “After we’re done with the small talk.”

  “You’ve got questions.”

  “One or two,” Inquisitor Raven said. “How about we start with the most obvious one: The six ships parked outside Titus. Are they part of Saint Vulcan’s forces?”

  “Until an hour ago, I only knew these ships as belonging to either Alien Force A or Alien Force B. Now I know one side, the good side, belongs to Saint Vulcan and, yes, those are her ships.”

  “Saint Vulcan’s alive?”

  “In a matter of speaking,” General Jurgens said. “I wish I knew everything about that. What little I do know I learned from these two.”

  He motioned to the man and woman sitting at the back of the bar.

  “They brought you here?”

  “I suspect Vulcan was the one that brought us here. Like you, Inquisitor, I was kidnapped mid-flight.”

  “Why were you brought here?”

  “Because I’m a familiar face,” he said. “You received my transmission to Helios?”

  “We did.”

  “Then the fact that I’m here lends weight to what they’ll tell you.”

  “After kidnapping a Phaecian battleship and bringing it into Epsillon territory against her will I’m all ears,” Inquisitor Raven said.

  General Jurgens nodded.

  “Did my transmissions help?”

  “They did, to some extent,” Inquisitor Raven said. “You know what happened in Helios?”

  “They told me,” General Jurgens said. “Now I can report to everyone in Epsillon. Hell of a fight you guys put up.”

  “Vulcan got Overlord Emeritus to leave. Not us.”

  “She calls him the Prototype,” General Jurgens said.

  The General reached for his glass and his hands shook when he picked it up.

  “I’m told a full briefing regarding this Prototype and his forces awaits me in my ship,” General Jurgens said. He motioned to the bar’s window and the darkness beyond it. “You know what happened in Erebus?”

  “Of course.”

  “There are those who feel what happened here proves the human race is incredibly lucky. Not for those who perished in the explosion, mind you, but for everyone else. Had the war spread, one wonders what would be of our Empires… and how many deaths were avoided by it ending as quickly as it did. There are those who theorize the explosion was a cosmic accident. A black hole, an undetected anti-matter mass. Perhaps a supernova. Others suspect a secret weapon of mass destruction was unintentionally detonated and our own sheer incompetence saved us in the long run. What do you think, Inquisitor?”

  “I believe whatever happened here was up to the Gods.”

  General Jurgens reached into his jacket pocket and produced a small computer chip. He handed it to Inquisitor Raven.

  “If we survive the next few days, please read the information on this chip,” General Jurgens said. “It describes in detail the activities over many centuries of a small group of individuals from both the Phaecian and Epsillon Empires. It’s a group I belong to, Inquisitor, a group that formed during the very early years of Empire. We fancied ourselves puppet masters and generations of members in this group have seen to humanity’s progress while keeping the peace. Not an easy task.”

  General Jurgens laid the shot glass on the counter.

  “It was here, in Erebus, where our great, great, great grandfathers faced their biggest challenge and made a decision to end a bloody war just as it was beginning.”

  “Are you saying the explosion—”

  “—was indeed man made,” General Jurgens said. “But it wasn’t the result of any incompetence.”

  He reached for his shot glass and filled it.

  “Our ancestors made sure each side brought their most powerful vessels in system while carrying the lightest of skeleton crews. When every one of those ships was gathered, the explosion was set off and the Epsillon and Phaecian military might was destroyed. Our leaders were then forced to do something they were loath to do: Seek peace. Many lives were lost –Hades, even one life lost was too much– but peace was achieved and many, many more lives were saved. This is our legacy.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “In the next days these secrets –and others– will come out,” General Jurgens said. “It’s time. But this great organization of ours, the puppet masters who pulled so many strings and helped guide the growth of not one but two Empires, were themselves overseen and controlled by other hands. Saint Vulcan’s. Your Overlord Emeritus, otherwise known as the Prototype.”

  General Jurgens shook. The skin on his face grew very pale.

  “Imagine that,” he whispered. He stared in the direction of the two seated at the table. “They’ll tell you much more, Inquisitor.”

  The General got up.

  “You aren’t staying?”

  “No,” General Jurgens said. He offered Inquisitor Raven his hand. “Good luck.”

  They shook hands and, on unsteady feet, General Jurgens left the bar.

  57

  “Inquisitor Raven, this is Lieutenant Sanders,” came a message over Inquisitor Raven’s comm
unicator. “The Epsillon cruiser is powering up.”

  “Understood,” Inquisitor Raven said. “The ship belongs to General Jurgens. Allow him free passage out.”

  Inquisitor Raven reached for the bottle of Limon Picante. He grabbed three fresh shot glasses and walked to the far side of the bar and to the duo sitting at their table.

  “Welcome, Inquisitor Raven,” the woman said.

  “You are?”

  “Catherine Holland. The gentleman with me is Lionel Delmont.”

  The man was very large and, based on his stiff sitting posture, military.

  “Rank?”

  “Sergeant,” Delmont said.

  Inquisitor Raven set his bottle of Picante and shot glasses on the table, reached for an empty seat at another table, and sat opposite the woman and her companion. He made a trio of Picante shots and slid them over.

  The three touched glasses and took down their drinks.

  “All right,” Inquisitor Raven said. “I heard what General Jurgens had to say. Now let’s hear what you’ve got.”

  The air within the bar felt heavy and the lights were too damn low.

  Through a corner window the Cygnusa was visible in her dock while the six alien crafts floated in the near distance.

  Catherine Holland and Lionel Delmont looked as ordinary as two people in an empty space station guarded by six alien crafts could look and Inquisitor Raven wondered just how contagious General Jurgen’s bad nerves were.

  “I sorry about what happened in Helios,” Catherine Holland said. “There’s been destruction and casualties and it makes me sick to think—”

  “It’s not your world nor your people,” Inquisitor Raven snapped. “Why should you care?”

  “You don’t know a thing about me, Inquisitor Raven, perhaps you could save your fury until after we’ve talked.”

  Inquisitor Raven closed his mouth and Catherine Holland continued.

  “The creature hidden in Helios was a cancer that needed to be excised and banished. If there was an easier way to do this, it would have been done.”

  “So the lost lives were worth it?” Inquisitor Raven said. “Just like those lost in Erebus two hundred years before?”

  “Yes.”

  Catherine Holland’s blunt answer stunned Inquisitor Raven. He took a second to compose himself and said:

  “Do you really believe in such cold calculations?” Inquisitor Raven said. His voice was dangerously close to a yell. “Sacrifice some to save others?”

  “What is winning a war but one side losing less than the other?” Catherine Holland said. “You think the deaths of those in and around Helios are the only ones the Prototype is responsible for? The creature was behind the deaths of twenty billion in Pomos.”

  “Perhaps my knowledge of Epsillon history is incomplete, but wasn’t it Saint Vulcan who set fire to her world so she could eliminate a virus she created?”

  “Saint Vulcan did not create the virus that infected her world,” Catherine Holland said. “The Prototype did. Saint Vulcan then faced a difficult choice. If even one of the infected made their way to an escape craft and flown to another planet, the contagion would have spread and both Empires would have been endangered. The Prototype didn’t care about any of that. So, yes, the alternative is much worse than you can imagine.”

  Catherine Holland reached for the bottle of Picante and poured herself another shot. She took it down.

  “Saint Vulcan, as you’ve no doubt surmised by now, is not a human being. She never was. She is a robot with a sophisticated artificial intelligence who’s been around a very long time.”

  “How long?”

  “Since the human race’s infancy. She was on Earth, the planet your Holy Texts call Homeworld and she was present at the time of the Exodus. She’s guided humanity from a distance and helped us develop tools we use to this very day.”

  “She said she created this creature… this Prototype.”

  “Her one terrible sin,” Catherine Holland said. “The Prototype was meant to be her companion and end a millennia of loneliness. Shortly after the creature’s creation, it was stolen from her. The creature learned all the wrong lessons about humans and humanity from her captors. They thought they controlled him but they did not. Eventually, he eliminated them. Over the years, he’s changed his features and identity and, most recently, became your Overlord Emeritus.”

  “How does he do this?”

  “He, like Saint Vulcan, is made up of billions of microscopic machines called nano-probes. They can alter their shape and create different body types, faces, and even sex.”

  “You waste my time with fairy tales,” Inquisitor Raven said. “Show me some proof or I’m on my way.”

  Catherine Holland got to her feet. She pulled up her left pant leg and revealed her bare skin.

  “Watch,” she said.

  The flesh on her leg moved. It changed color and shape, becoming skinnier. Fatter. Masculine, feminine. Finally, it returned to its original form.

  “That’s how this creature changes its identity.”

  “Are you…?”

  “Except for this leg, I’m human just like you. I lost it a long time ago, Inquisitor. Back on Homeworld. Just days before the Exodus.”

  58

  “You expect me to believe you’re over five thousand years old?” Inquisitor Raven said.

  “The nano-probes in this leg and some I adopted beforehand keep me younger than others, but I’ve also spent many years in cryogenic units. I’ve been called now and again by Vulcan for help when she needed me.”

  “A fantastic creature like Saint Vulcan needs someone like you?”

  “At times,” Catherine Holland said. “She values us, Inquisitor. It might be why she adopted my first name.”

  “Your first…?” Inquisitor Raven began. He shook his head. “What about her –and this Prototype’s– ships? How do they function?”

  “They too are composed of billions of interlocking microscopic machines. You can destroy chunks of them but because each machine is independent of the other, the group survives most attacks. The only way to truly destroy such a hive is by an energized chain reaction which hits each and every one of them simultaneously.”

  “We need such a weapon,” Inquisitor Raven said.

  “I wouldn’t know how to create it,” Catherine Holland said. “Only Saint Vulcan can.”

  “Why not give us that knowledge? Why not allow us to help her?”

  “It is her decision to make,” Sergeant Delmont said.

  “While we suffer the collateral damage of her war?” Inquisitor Raven said.

  “Not for much longer.”

  The words hung in the air like a thick fog. For several seconds, they were silent. Finally, Inquisitor Raven spoke.

  “Tell me about yourselves.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “How you came to be here. Hades, tell me about Homeworld.”

  “Homeworld was targeted for destruction by an ancient race of alien creatures. They sent robots like Saint Vulcan there to serve as scouts. They were meant to oversee the planet and make sure our ancestors would not pose a problem to them. Saint Vulcan was one of the first of three robots to land there and, over millennia, she and her companions developed a… fondness for humans. They didn’t want to see humans destroyed and decided to save them from their masters. Saint Vulcan worked hard to do so, going so far as to inject nano-probes into a human. The first human-machine hybrid was the man who eventually did save humanity.”

  “You’re talking about the Unknown Hero?” Inquisitor Raven said.

  “His name was Paul Spradlin,” Catherine Holland said.

  “You… you knew him?”

  “No,” Sergeant Delmont said. “I did.”

  The burly man pulled up a satchel and gently laid it on the table between Catherine Holland and Inquisitor Raven.

  “May I?” he said.

  Inquisitor Raven nodded.

  Sergeant Delmont
reached into the satchel and produced a tablet computer unlike any Inquisitor Raven had seen before. Delmont turned the device on and offered it to the Inquisitor.

  Inquisitor Raven took the tablet and stared at its screen. On it was the image of a man. He was a handsome man, if one were to focus on half his face. The other half was red and horribly scarred.

  “The Unknown Hero,” Sergeant Delmont said.

  For several seconds Inquisitor Raven stared at the screen. There were so many images made over time of the Unknown Hero. If this was indeed him, the images were idealized. Here was an ordinary, though scarred, man.

  “General Spradlin created a new brand of nano-probes and spiked the Earth’s waters with them. In a short amount of time all living things ingested them. Thought these nano-probes and special Displacer units, he was able to transport large groups of individuals to a bunker and from there, to the Arks and safety.”

  “The first Ark’s passengers settled into the sector now known as the Epsillon Empire,” Catherine Holland said. “The second Ark settled around Helios and became your Phaecian Empire.”

  “And the third Ark?” Inquisitor Raven asked.

  “It’s still out there,” Catherine Holland said. “At least that’s what Vulcan told me.”

  Inquisitor Raven was silent for several seconds. He considered taking some more Picante but instead said:

  “What happened to Spradlin?”

  “Paul Spradlin died on the last day before Earth’s remaining population was transported. Vulcan stayed behind for a very short time before following the Arks and helping humanity find new homelands.”

  “Until one day she decides to create this Prototype,” Inquisitor Raven said. “By creating this homicidal machine, Vulcan is responsible for many deaths. Including… including my wife’s.”

  He stood up and walked away from the table.

  Sergeant Delmont was about to follow but Catherine Holland shook her head.

  She stood up and neared the Inquisitor.

  “Saint Vulcan is not infallible,” Catherine Holland said. “She lives with the guilt of her creation every day.”

  “That will not bring my wife back,” Inquisitor Raven said.