by T. R. Harris
Adam’s stomach was in knots. The plan—as simple as it was—was relying solely on the disruptor boxes working. If they didn’t, then Lila would be in the room where Kracion could set about doing whatever he had to do to absorb her powers.
On the other hand, they had found the room…and they still had the explosives.
Reading the concern on his face, Riyad spoke. “We could set the explosives and only activate them if we need to.”
Adam nodded. He’d already thought of that. “That sounds like our best plan.”
“And what of the Klin ships Kracion will have with him?” Copernicus asked.
“If we can free Lila and Panur, we’ll let them deal with them, even if we have to hang out here for a while as they devise their own plan. The key is freeing the mutants. We need them for anything going forward. Without them, there’s not much that can stop Kracion.”
“Except maybe the other Aris.”
“We’ll see about that,” Adam said. He hadn’t told them about the conversation he had with Sherri regarding the Aris service modules—Will and Grace—aboard the Colony Ship. He also worried how Nunki and the other immortal Aris would react knowing that the galaxy was theirs for the taking, following Kracion’s lead. To Adam, Kracion looked to be a traitor and a renegade. To the logical Aris, they may see his actions as sensible and expeditious. Or they could spank him and send him to his room without dinner. Reality probably fell somewhere between these two extremes. And at this point it was impossible to tell which.
“Set the bombs. We just need to have one explode. That should set off the rest.”
“And how will we do that?” Copernicus asked.
Riyad smiled and fingered his comm switch. “With one of these. We trigger the electronic signal in the communicator. An old freedom fighter trick. Two of us will have to go dark, but that’s the price to be paid for saving the galaxy.”
“And after setting the bombs, let’s clean up our mess. Nothing like a bunch of blown apart robots to let people know the Humans have been here.”
“And a bathroom,” Coop said. “We need to find a bathroom.”
Adam laughed. “I can help with that. There’s only one in the entire station, and that’s in the room where I was held. They made it exclusively for me and Trimen.” He looked at his watch. Four hours, thirty-eight minutes. “Let’s get to work.”
130
The Klin fleet swept into the area and spread out, forming a protective screen around the ringed Aris world of Solis. Kracion had been here countless times before, although this was not his primary workstation. That was at another location.
He fingered the code into the comm system that would deactivate the interphase shield and moved his flagship in closer. He would take a shuttle down, along with a loyal team of Klin…and the mutants. He checked the small control box on the belt around his thin waist; the controls for the personal interphase fields for he and the mutants. He would go in protected by one. It had been three hundred thousand years since he’d last been here; he had to be leery of what he might find.
He also opened a comm link with the station’s security center, checking to make sure no Aris were aboard. He was taking the word of the mutants and Adam Cain that Nunki and his Privileged had indeed found the secret of immortality and had moved on. Status data was sent from Solis, confirming that no Aris were awake aboard the station and none of the encasement modules were active. They were gone, and the only reason that would be so was if they had become immortal. They’d done it, the culmination of a three-billion-year-long plan. And now it was Kracion’s turn.
A section of the outer skin of the station slid away, revealing the interior landing area. The shuttle set down amid a variety of smaller Aris vessels, spacecraft capable of trans-dimensional hops. He would have them transferred to his Klin ship at the end of his time here.
A small squad of Klin had control devices that moved the interphase bubbles surrounding the mutants, forcing them from the shuttle. They followed Kracion into the interior. They weren’t resisting; it was just that Kracion wanted to feel in control…as he was.
His first stop once inside the station was a central data room, a large open area with ports set within the walls. He pressed a section of the metal barriers and a panel slid open. Kracion removed a flexible tube and inserted one end into his utility belt. Then he stepped to a port and plugged in the other end.
A large section of the metal wall turned opaque, forming a fully integrated screen. Kracion began to scroll through schematics.
“What do you seek?” Lila asked from behind the Aris.
“When I was last here, the Apex Being was still a distant objective. None of us knew fully what form you would take or what would be required for your assimilation. Yet since you were discovered and brought here, I must assume Nunki and others had a way and would have built a center for the procedure. That is what I seek.”
“And you have no idea how to accomplish the procedure, as you call it?” Panur asked.
“That matters not,” Kracion said with a dismissive tone. “I am a technician. I understand Aris technology even better than did Nunki and the Privileged. Once I study the facility, I will know. All I must do is locate where it is placed within the station. It should not be hard to find. It will be a relatively recent modification and will be near the central living quarters.” He stopped and pointed at the screen with a thin finger. “There…I have found it.”
He turned and looked with amusement at Lila. “Your time as a single entity is drawing to an end. Do you not find it exhilarating that you are about to transition to a new state of being?”
“I enjoy the state I am currently in. And as my father would say, ‘Don’t count your chickens before they are hatched.’”
Kracion laughed. “Shall I make a confession? Once I have assimilated the galaxy, I will spend a portion of my eternity studying my creations, entertained by their idiosyncrasies and survival traits. Prime among these will be the Humans. In the short time I have been aware of their evolution, I have found them to be of particular interest, as have you, Panur. The connection Lila feels is understandable. Now I see why you have also taken a liking to them. They are fascinating primitives. As I eliminate other, less interesting species, I may save them until I grow bored. As immortals, I am sure you understand the sentiment. Something I created is something I can destroy. The sense of power is quite satisfying.”
“And insane,” Lila said. “You do realize that?”
“Of course,” Kracion replied, showing no insult at the statement. “Yet sanity is a relative construct. As I assume my rightful position within the galaxy, my insanity will become normal. What I do will be accepted. How I think will become sane.”
“Spoken like a true psychopath.”
Kracion chuckled again. “I will set the definitions to come. Do what you wish to provoke me. It will not work. To me, my reality is already here. Now come along. There is assimilation to be done.”
It was a fair distance from the entry point near the landing bay to the assimilation room. As he walked, with the mutants sliding silently behind him, under superfluous guard by the Klin, Kracion marveled at the construction of the station. This was a facility billions of years old, older than most stars in the galaxy, older than any civilization to come before it. His people built it, in fact, his class of Aris had done the construction. Yes, the Privileged designed Solis and the systems, but without Aris like him, it could not have been built. Not even the army of intelligent robots or service orbs could do what flesh and blood Aris could do. Now he ran his fingers along the smooth surface, pride swelling in his chest.
There were scratches periodically in the metal, perhaps left there by the robots as they moved material through the corridors. The imperfections were random, and at some point would be repaired by the robots. But still, they were an inconsistency, an itch within the mind of Kracion.
Eventually they came to the smallish assimilation room. Kracion was indeed su
rprised by the compactness of the facility and the graphic meaning behind the two simple beds placed in the center. Yet he was not surprised that the room was clean, sterile…and unused. If it had been used for its intended purpose, then the Apex Being would not be standing near him. He looked at the small, four-foot-tall being called Panur, considering for a moment who he was and what he represented.
It was his creation—this J’nae creature—who Nunki and the other Privileged used to fulfill their ambitions, even as the Apex Being was available. This thought brought both anger and respect from Kracion. This tiny, near-featureless mutant had done in six years what the Aris spent billions to create.
Kracion shrugged off his thoughts. He was wasting time, time which for him would soon stop. But not before he learned the secrets of trans-body assimilation.
He still had the contact tube dangling from his side. He now plugged it into one of the ports in the wall. The Aris computers were the most sophisticated in the galaxy, even though this particular system was three billion years old. It was encased in the walls of the station, and to this day, nothing had been invented that could match it. Kracion now called up the assimilation data, having it fed directly into his brain. He concentrated, seeing immediately that the process was complicated beyond compare. As he took in the data, he looked around the room, identifying equipment while activating screens set in the wall. What he noticed was the complete lack of an overarching theme. Nunki was making it up as he went, exploring avenues of experimentation even before the Apex Being was brought before him. After several minutes of intense revelation and education, Kracion came upon a sidebar note, a recent entry, one pertaining to the J’nae creature. This had to come after her appearance at the station; how else would Nunki had known of her. It mentioned another location within Solis, where her assimilation was to take place.
Kracion suddenly turned to the mutants, withdrew the connection from the wall and walked summarily from the room.
“Watch them,” he ordered to the Klin in the corridor. “Do not let them leave.”
“My lord…can they without our permission?”
“Just do as I order. I will return momentarily.”
Kracion rushed down the hallway, following directions prominent in his mind. There was another center, a place where the transition from mortal to immortal had taken place for the Privileged Aris. Kracion had to know why they chose J’nae over their Apex Being.
He found the room and entered, shutting one of the few doors within the station behind him. This space was larger than the one he’d just left. It was clustered with equipment and showed signs of being extensively used. He plugged into the wall and began to take in data, startling data, life-altering data.
131
Lila and Panur were puzzled over Kracion’s abrupt departure. They had been glimpsing what they could from the data screens yet even they were at a loss as to what it meant. They’d only acquired bits and pieces, not enough to draw any conclusions.
And then Lila heard a voice in her head.
Father, you are here, and close. Yet I do not sense the presence of my mother. Is she well?
We are close, not too far down the hall. Arieel is fine. She’s on Formil assembling a force to go after Kracion and his Klin fleet. But tell Panur we found his interphase nullification boxes. I have them sitting on top of each other, in direct contact. I don’t know if they’re working, not without a field to influence.
Lila served as a conduit between her mind and Panur’s. She relayed the information.
Panur raised the hairless skin above an eye.
This is interesting news, he thought to Lila. Let us experiment.
He reached out a hand…and it moved effortlessly beyond the shimmering glow of the containment bubble.
My devices appear to be working. We are free of the influence, yet a ghost of the fields remain.
Lila passed the news on to Adam.
Great! You can get away. We’ve placed bombs in the assimilation room. Get out now and then we’ll set them off, killing Kracion while he’s still mortal.
He is not in the room.
Where is he? Lila could sense the tension in Adam’s thoughts.
We do not know. He left the room suddenly a few moments ago.
It doesn’t matter. Just get free. We’re in the room where the Aris kept Trimen and me. Come find us. We’ll get away together. That way Kracion will never be able to become immortal, not without you.
We will wait for his return. Lila stated firmly. She could sense the anger building in her father’s mind. Kracion believes he is protected by the interphase field. He will return, and when he does, we will attack.
You don’t need to. The bombs will kill him. And if not that, then he’ll be just like every other mortal creature. We’ll get to him somehow. What’s important is keeping him from using the two of you to make himself invincible.
I understand, father, yet this is something we must do. Without his leadership, the Klin and Olypon will falter. We must be sure he is dead. Besides, if we have access to the Aris computer system we may gain incredible insight and knowledge. Please do not destroy anything until we have a chance to look at it first.
That makes sense. Sorry, I just like to blow things up.
Lila chuckled. Yes, we have noticed. However, be patient. Now that we are free of the interphase field, it will not be a problem dealing with Kracion on our terms.
Be careful.
We will. And father…thank you for coming to our rescue.
I figured I owed you.
You do; yet consider the debt repaid. I shall keep you informed as the events unfold.
In his mortal state, Kracion’s body had to gain support. He sat in one of the many chairs as the data streamed into his mind. He was stunned, overwhelmed by the…the simplicity of it all.
He thought back to the beginning of the Aris’ grand experiment. Options had been offered, and since his life—like all the other Aris participating in the experiment—had been spent in tiny increments of consciousness, followed by millions of years of sleep, he remembered every detail. Talk of a synthetic being had been discussed, to create a master mutation similar to J’nae who would allow the Aris to fulfill their goal. Yet at the time, the technology was beyond even that of the Aris. Then there was the continuation of the practice that had kept his race living as long as they had, through enhancements. Even transfer of conscious thought to inanimate objects was contemplated. The mechanical devices could then be repaired and replaced over time giving the Aris an unlimited lifespan.
And then there was the alteration of biological processes on the thousands of worlds within the galaxy. The Aris had an unlimited resource for experimentation, which upon further study, showed a success potential near one hundred percent. An Apex Being would be created—eventually—a true biological immortal.
There was also discussion of the creation of a race of immortals on a single planet, yet this was quickly dismissed. That was not the goal of the Aris. If so, then this immortal race would naturally compete with the now-immortal Aris, with a planet of beings dominating the few surviving Aris. What they needed was a single being which they could assimilate.
In order to do that, the Apex Being would have to be a mutant, a one-of-a-kind creature, and the only way to assure that would be through the rarest of occurrence, the mating of alien species. This was the course chosen so long ago and the one most of the remaining Aris embraced. But not all. Some chose to live out their natural lives, while others continued with the enhancements until even they grew tired.
As a technician, Kracion had not participated in the decision-making. Rather, he went along with the majority, as was required. He and his kind were offered potential salvation at the end of the experiment, if it was possible. Even the Privileged could not guarantee this, since the final results of the experiment were still unknown.
Over the eons, Kracion’s frustration, fear and resentment grew stronger. He and his kind were making it
possible for the Privileged to fulfill their dreams and ambitions, while dangling a prize before the others, a tantalizing promise that may never be delivered. So, he took matters into his own hands.
Now as he took in this new data, he was in shock. His skin seemed to tingle from the realization that he was about to do what no Aris of his class had ever truly contemplated. Yet there was a complication.
The procedure for assimilating Lila was a theory, even now. Nunki and the others had never actually done it. They didn’t need to; they had J’nae. This thought frightened Kracion. He would be the first to achieve such a feat, and without the assistance of the Privileged. For only a few times in his long life, Kracion acknowledged the genius of the upper class of Aris. Could he do this on his own?
He would need to bring over several of his service modules to assist. Even then, they could only do what they have been instructed to do. They could not create on their own.
Yet he did have Panur. The mutant created J’nae from himself, meaning that the process that had worked on J’nae should work on him. And Nunki chose J’nae over the Apex Being—and with success.
Kracion began scouring the data files for more details on the procedure—the actual procedure that had taken place within this very room.
An then he found it. The reference to the quantity of material needed. It was remarkably small. And then he discovered another interesting item.
Rather than eighteen Aris needing the procedure, only fifteen had actually been converted. Further researched revealed how the Human Adam Cain had killed three of the Privileged at the time he was on Solis. Kracion gasped. Although he resented the Privileged, the idea of killing one was so foreign to his thought process as to be inconceivable. Yet the primitive creature—this animal—had killed three of the surviving Aris. Even with his accelerated thought process, it took a moment for Kracion to recover from the shock.