by Michael Kan
Maybe it’s a ship or some kind of orbital pylon, Arendi added. But we’ll move as fast as we can.
Two of the automated machines were already cutting into the wall with a laser beam that rained sparks. The other pair was on watch and attempting to hack into the structure remotely.
As the message ended, Arendi heard the drill of the cutting beam whine in her ear. The site was completely sealed. She saw a hot white line from the laser attempt to trace out a makeshift entrance. Smoke was puffing from the metal.
There’s no need, Farcia said. I can provide you access.
She attempted to walk past Arendi to let the structure verify her presence.
No, Arendi said, blocking the way with her hand. She didn’t trust Farcia. Seconds later a section of the wall came undone. The slab of metal fell to the sand. The combat drones then moved to infiltrate. The cutting beam stopped, and the seven-foot machines rushed inside. Arendi was with Farcia over a dozen meters away. She didn’t know why the woman had suddenly wanted to cooperate, but she didn’t like it. She straightened her combat jacket and prepared for possible resistance. Although Arendi knew little of the surrounding habitat, she was plenty familiar with the Unity and its machinations.
The Enforcer, your accomplice, is he here?
Arendi asked the question as the combat drones scouted the premises. Already, visuals of the interior were appearing in her mind.
So far, they had found a tunnel that led to more darkness and then a secluded inner chamber. Arendi then glanced back at Farcia.
No, this came before, the woman said cryptically. She fumbled with the metal brace around her neck.
Farcia didn’t want to linger. She moved past Arendi, ready to step into the lair.
***
The security sweep came up with nothing. Any discernible threat was absent from the scans. In fact, the interior was quiet. Quiet as a tomb. There was no life here. Nor were there any windows or furniture inside. Instead, anything related to color or comfort had been neglected from the structure. Arendi felt the machine presence. The cold air met her cheeks and the brim of her lips.
The Unity, she thought. It must be them.
The structure had never been built for humans. So much of it was impassable. The corridors were either too tight or nonexistent, hidden behind locked walls. Still, the scans did detect something. The drones had paved a path, cutting down more nonessential metal to reach it.
To light the way, Arendi released a handheld flare from her combat belt. It rolled from her hand and dropped down to the catacomb-like floor. In another second it ignited, banishing the darkness in a mist of crystalline light. Arendi heard the incoming gust. The flash simmered down and quickly calmed into a lasting afterglow. She then stepped inside, switching from her own machine vision to her normal sights.
Confirmed, Arendi said. It’s what we’ve been looking for.
She crossed into the middle of the room and found it. The computing system was before her, embedded in the floor. The technology appeared as a podium like tower of steel. Although it was dormant, the system supposedly controlled the rest of the structure. Even more important, it fed into a database stored inside. For a moment, Arendi was relieved. This was a potential way to access records and more detailed locations. She briefly inspected the stump of chrome, touching the cool surface with her hand. The hack of the computing system was currently underway. But apparently that wasn’t all that was inside the facility. There was more. Much more.
Under her very feet and around her was another secluded section. It was entirely contained. The combat drones had already highlighted the presence in their initial scans. Arendi had seen the sensor readings. It had been enough to shift her attention away from the computing system. Arendi didn’t know what might be under the floor. Neither did the combat drones. There was no way to enter the mysterious section aside from drilling another hole. Furthermore, the scans had failed to pierce the exterior of the bulkhead. Arendi rubbed the bottom of her chin. She didn’t like this at all.
As a precaution, the combat drones had set up a defensive perimeter throughout the inside of the labyrinth. Obviously not everything within the facility had been fully understood. But for now, the priority was assuming control of the computing system. She looked back at the tower. The surface had been altered. Attached to the tower was a decryption node, a circular device that had been diligently peeling back the security protocols within the computing system. It had forced a lockdown of the entire structure.
Arendi lifted her hand from the tower. It won’t be long before we mine all the information inside.
She turned to the presumed user of all this. In the room alongside her was Farcia. The woman was silent as well, but she was ever watchful. Arendi caught her glancing at the tower and the decryption node on top.
This place, Arendi said. The Unity built it, didn’t they?
Farcia didn’t say, even though the signs were everywhere. The computing code used throughout the structure possessed all the obvious signatures.
You can’t trust the Unity, Arendi warned. They’re dangerous. They want nothing more than control.
I know, Farcia muttered. But don’t pretend that you’re any better.
The woman didn’t need a lecture. She crossed her arms and leaned into the darkened crevices between the walls.
You’re no better, Farcia went on. No better than me.
I don’t kill the innocent, Arendi retorted. Not like you.
At that, Farcia became agitated. The gills in her cheeks sputtered and began to foam. The translation failed to follow, and instead waned into a harsh mechanical whine.
Farcia clawed at the air, finally managing a word out. Hypocrite!
She wiped the drool away with her other hand.
Savior, you think you know everything, Farcia said with a sneer. With a flick of her wrist, she sent drips of saliva into the air. How wrong you are
Arendi saw the spit land near her feet. It was another dark stain on the floor.
We came to your galaxy, desperate, Farcia muttered. We were forced to do what was necessary.
Necessary? Arendi asked. Is that how you justify it?
Would you have us die and face oblivion?
The words rasped, like a dying breath. Farcia coughed into her hand and then shuddered.
Arendi stared at her from across the room. She wasn’t sure whether to pity her or resist. For now, she chose the latter.
What the Endervars brought, Arendi said, the invasion. The never-ending war. We never asked for any of this.
Do you think my people wanted to come to this universe? Farcia fired back. To your universe?
The woman rolled her eyes, irritated and bitter. We sought refuge here. We tried to find a way
Farcia’s voice cracked. Her back was hunched, and exhaustion coursed through her breath. It dragged every word out as a wail.
My universe once hopelessly clung to yours she said, cringing. Don’t you see? We came here to try to save it!
But you did so at the cost of war, Arendi said firmly. How many have died because it? You would have conquered all of us. You nearly did.
And yet you still remain, Farcia said. Strong and growing. You can talk about all the deaths you want. But your universe flourishes, while mine is dead. Extinct!
The white-haired woman backed deeper into a corner, away from the fog of light. For a moment, her body fell into a coffin of shadow.
The death of one galaxy, when there are so many more can it even compare? To the death of an entire universe? Farcia asked. Her fingers traced along the lifeless wall as she dared to answer the question.
What you want is wrong, Arendi said.
Arendi’s voice rose. She came closer to Farcia, seeking to push past the madness.
The Alliance doesn’t want to fight you.
And yet, we have no choice, Farcia said,
not in the least persuaded.
There is always a choice.
Farcia batted away the statement with a scowl. Don’t be naïve. It’s easy to say such things when you’ve won. When the galaxy celebrates you calls you the Savior. But you’ll always be a murderer to me.
She felt small and defeated inside the room. The gills in her face were constricted and awash in spit. She tugged at the metal around her neck, anguished.
Did you not think that your ˜liberation’ would have some consequence? she asked. You and your Alliance you defeated us. You liberated every planet and moon we ever conquered in this galaxy.
But in doing so, you killed a piece of mine, Farcia added. You killed the last of us.
What?
Yes. Your victory led to the death of my universe. But I assume it was necessary, wasn’t it?
Arendi couldn’t see it, but the woman was smiling in her own crude way. She mocked Arendi with the darkness in her stare.
And here you are, trying to save things again, Farcia wheezed.
The woman looked up to the ceiling. She sighed, exhausted by all this talk. It was unnatural for her to speak constantly like this. The gills in her cheek hissed with the strain.
Arendi came to her and conducted another scan. She wondered whether Farcia was toying with her or offering the truth.
If only you could see what’s in my mind, the woman said.
Arendi squinted at her and backed away. I’ve seen enough, she replied.
The remark caught Farcia by surprise. She watched as Arendi began to glow.
I know what you want, Arendi said.
With a brush of her hand, she unleashed a new wave of light. A hologram came from her wrist and solidified against the surrounding mist. Again, the secret research emerged. Farcia recognized the monolith of machinery floating above her. But then it expanded, blossoming into its full form.
The Gateway technology, Arendi said, pointing up. I wondered why this technology was abandoned all those years ago.
She walked around it as the research materialized in a virtual field of blue.
Now I know, she said. It isn’t a teleporter at all.
The hologram had suddenly become a simulation. The image zoomed out, predicting the theoretical effect. Arendi saw a spark in the center of the room. The incoming light then exploded, becoming another flash in the confines of the room.
This is no gateway, Arendi said. This could potentially destroy the universe.
Destruction was all around them. Both star and planet, and then even space and time, had fallen to its wrath. The virtual ash seeped into her sights. Farcia blinked and approached the image.
No, she said. It’s more.
The white-haired woman completely disagreed with Arendi. She saw past the destruction to the revival. This isn’t death, Farcia said. It’s the birth of a universe. My universe returned.
Chapter 31
G. Kozanis. It was short for Gizyhiac Vomanac Kozanis, which was simply a loose translation of an even longer, more sophisticated moniker. Few outside the Arcenians could even pronounce the original name properly. Nevertheless, the Destroyer was familiar with the man behind the different aliases. Once he had been nearly chosen to apprehend the Arcenian scientist and force his conversion.
This had all happened during the Destroyer’s days as an assassin for the Unity. Over fifty years ago, his masters had expressed great interest in the famed scientist widely known as G. Kozanis. The man was undeniably brilliant, and he possessed a penchant for achieving technological breakthroughs. No doubt he would have been a valuable asset to add to the greater collective. His talents and knowledge could ascend beyond the physical form, to work on new projects, new endeavors, all for the sake of the Unity.
But in the end, the Destroyer had done nothing to track down the reclusive man. The Unity had remained silent on the matter, and his masters had supposedly sought to deal with G. Kozanis personally.
Nothing else was known about the scientist’s ultimate demise. Whether it was a suicide or a botched conversion, the Destroyer couldn’t firmly say. But he was sure his masters were somehow involved. Now, years later, he had evidence to suggest why. One of the dead scientist’s final projects had been theoretically revived, along with its unintended purpose. The resulting technology was beyond brilliant. It was godlike.
Indeed, the Gateway project could open a doorway a doorway into a new reality. The effect, while inadvertent, was enough to harness quantum fluctuations in a vacuum to generate a new universe, if only briefly.
Essentially, G. Kozanis was playing with the fabric of time and space or in this case, virtual particles, to do the unthinkable. He had found a way to sustain the mysterious particles before they self-annihilated, giving them room, potentially, to form a new pocket of life.
The technology, however, was incomplete and practically harmless, at least to the citizens of this realm. Any universe generated from the technology wouldn’t live. Not unless a tremendous, almost impossible, amount of energy could be funneled into the fabricated vacuum of space. If so, the consequences would be drastic. It could potentially spark a fully formed new universe, at the cost of the old.
Wisely, however, the famed scientist had chosen to abandon the failed project. Each time, he used it, G. Kozanis was creating a new universe, only to let it flicker out and die. Knowing this, the man had perhaps sought to wipe out all knowledge of his work. There was, after all, only one remnant of it left. The Arcenian Empire had decided to store the leftover research inside two clandestine facilities at the home world and pretend it had never existed. The technology had not been forgotten, however. At least, not completely. Someone remembered it. Someone who was seeking to complete it.
All signs pointed to the Unity. Or whatever remained of that wretched oligarchy. The ultimate fate of the Destroyer’s former masters was just another mystery. For over twenty years, they had remained silent. Until now.
Magnus, the message said. So you seek to follow
The communication was encrypted, but it had all the markings of being from her. She had no official name, so the Destroyer had given her one.
Defector, he said, monitoring the transmission. He was on board the Adamant, continuing his patrol, when he had received the message. It was an invitation, of all things. The Destroyer was not amused. He was monitoring the situation below on the artificial habitat, while Endervar ships scattered throughout the system. The Adamant was attempting to stay a step ahead and avoid any unnecessary engagement. But that was all about to end.
Although the scans were still trying to confirm it, something new was arriving in the system. As he feared, the contacts were multiplying.
The Adamant moved to intercept, and the Destroyer accepted the invitation.
***
He came to the meeting point. It was an empty virtual room. The transmission had bridged the divide, forming a secure area built from data. The room itself was just an illusion. Sound, smells, and physical presence were all fabrications here. Even so, the Destroyer still sought to impose. His avatar a blond-haired human emerged on one end, deviating from the standard conventions. He was dressed in a beige suit, and his polished shoes touched the endless stretch of floor.
Hmph, he said. So we come back to this.
The surroundings were decidedly minimal. He saw nothing but smoke and shadow as he waited, tapping his feet over the platform.
Still, the Destroyer recognized his surroundings. He had frequented a barren place like this many times before, when he had responded to his mandated summons from the Unity. He looked at the abyss around him, remembering. They had once spied from the darkness the decrepit masters of control. They were his audience, always whispering and conspiring. He himself had formerly been among them, before he had been banished to become their slave. That was all in the past now. The Destroyer had rebelled and made the Unity suffer. The audience that once lurked on the horizon was supposedly gone.
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br /> He watched, hearing and seeing nothing.
Where are you? he asked. Or are you still afraid?
His taunt was answered with her appearance. She came in a rush of rumbling fog. The shadow was seemingly alive, churning throughout the virtual air. The semblance of a face and eyes took shape in the gloom. The smoke settled as she draped herself in a cape of fading darkness.
The Destroyer saw a sole finger graze the woman’s lips.
Magnus, she said with a smirk. So we meet again, after all these years.
She hovered before him, gowned in twilight. The blues, violets, and hints of red swelled within the frock of flowing fabric.
How I missed you, she added, drifting intimately closer.
The Destroyer was immune to the show of affection. The ends of her gown were nearly brushing against his body, and still he stood silent.
No greeting? she asked. Nothing at all? So dramatic.
She hovered around him, teasing him with another smile. The trail of her dress wrapped over his shoulders.
You’ve changed, haven’t you? the woman went on, whispering in his ear. Calmer, perhaps, but still deadly.
The Destroyer stepped away. The fabric fell from his shoulders to the barren floor.
I detest manipulation, he said, stone-faced.
Manipulation? No, never, she insisted. All I’ve ever done is tried to watch out for you.
The Destroyer dismissed the words with an apathetic look. He brushed off his shoulders and casually inspected his finger nails.
There’s no need for this, he said. I’m far too old for these games.
The twilight behind him began to dim. The gown receded and wilted into flecks of gray. The Destroyer stood, indifferent to the emotion.
Do you forget? she asked, alarmed. You and I were once close.
The shadow came to him again, despite his indifference. He felt a finger under his chin. It lifted his face so he was gazing into her eyes.
The Destroyer saw the spark amid the fog. The ghost within sought to reach out.