by Michael Kan
The pain sat in her stomach like a burgeoning lump. She could feel it yawn and stretch into her chest and then to her throat. It was everywhere, moving and squirming along. The mental touch yearned for more.
Farcia was silent in her panic. Her hands cupped her ears. She then closed her eyes, distancing herself, pushing everything out. She didn’t want this. Whatever it was. The sensation didn’t understand. It was blind and formless. It cried and retreated, slipping back into the tiny corner of her mind.
Why? Why now?
It should have been simple, Farcia thought. An early death and nothing more.
The old Farcia had always expected it. Her mutancy had almost made it preordained. In the year since, her symptoms had only worsened. The pain crept, and then it struck. She assumed her time was almost up. This was different, however. The agony was there, and so was something else. She thought maybe it was remnant of her the old Farcia desperate to fight back. But she was wrong. This was new. The woman shuddered at the thought. She clutched her body harder, wishing it were stone.
Out of desperation, Farcia then uttered the name. Red, she whispered.
Her plea croaked into silence. The woman thought of him, wondering what might have been. But that was a fantasy. A dream. Briefly, she had tried to love him, even in her current form. But she was an imposter. An alien entity who had claimed this body and nearly worn it out. Even if he were alive, Red would not forgive her. No one would. She was an abomination. A murderer who had willingly killed.
Farcia felt the growth in her body and had no choice but to ignore and forget it.
It didn’t matter. None of this mattered anymore. It was too late. She opened her eyes, hearing the other echo in her mind. The escape pod jolted. The craft carrying it had pulled out of warp. Her kin were signaling. The Endervar ships had done as ordered and arrived at the destination point.
Farcia pulled herself up from the floor, letting go of any reservation or regret. The sensation and all the pain fell to the side. She looked at her left arm and saw the sleeve of circuitry. The winding scales wrapped around her skin, ready to activate. The Enforcer was not far. His stronghold was in the distance. The last of the Unity was here, gathering in the night. It was time to meet and finish what they had started.
We will return, Farcia had declared. The promise made all those years ago would finally come true.
***
He sat on the machine throne, eager to play god. The Enforcer was alone, as he should have been. All other pretenders had died by his hand. He had obliterated his creators and their secret conclave. The false Unity had been swept into oblivion. Any remnant had been hunted down and eliminated from this region of space. The Enforcer had been pleased to do so. This was his creed to purify and enforce.
The bickering had been silenced. The power plays had been squelched. Authority had been consolidated into one single force, and one force alone.
It was extreme. To kill all, including anyone who chose to surrender. But the victims only had themselves to blame.
The Enforcer hadn’t always been this way. Once, he had been blind and formless. A kernel of a mind, pulled from the fabric of another. Then he had been altered. Bastardized and stripped of any soul. The Unity did as they sought fit. From the virtual mulch, a new Destroyer had emerged. This one, more ruthless, more devoted, and supposedly staunchly obedient.
His first target: his predecessor. The one known as Magnus, who had gone rogue. The deviant had rebelled, sparking a civil war. In an instant, the man had deprived the Unity of its former power. He had even shamed and embarrassed them, stealing away everything they had once held dear.
The Enforcer had been designed to correct that. He had been built to purge and assimilate any undesirable element. He could command warships, fight on the ground as a drone, and infiltrate machine systems with relative ease. He was a virtual being one that could infect and warlord over the galaxy.
But in the end, the Unity hadn’t chosen to deploy him. He had been declared too radical and too unpredictable. His creators feared a repeat of the past. Nevertheless, the Enforcer had still seen the light of day. He had been altered one final time. The purge protocol had been activated. His new target: the Unity itself. He took great pleasure in that. The Enforcer killed them all with brutal efficiency. In one slaughter after another, he assimilated their secrets and knowledge, all the while vowing to restore the Unity to its truest form. He had no tolerance for anything else. The clandestine group had outlived its usefulness. It was old and feeble. It needed to die. The programming within told him so.
It was only after some time that the Enforcer truly awakened. He very quickly evolved and realized he was just a puppet. A pawn for another struggle. Although he was no longer blind or formless, his every waking moment was devoted to her. To this woman. The protocols binding his mind and machine spirit had demanded it.
Farcia, he said, feeling the old shackles surround him.
The Enforcer rose from the shadows. He had not expected this. Apparently, she was still alive. Farcia arrived at his stronghold, assuming nothing had changed. The old codes from her sleeve transmitted into the darkness, attempting to tame and control him. The Enforcer walked on, immune. He was a slave no more. The old codes had failed to keep pace. The machine that he was had evolved; it had learned to bend and shape the rules.
In reality, this whole plan was his. In the guise of a faithful servant, the Enforcer had whispered each and every step. It had begun with the hunt for the Gateway technology. Then it had escalated with the full-scale attack of the Alliance. Now it would end, with his vision for the future. The shackles had broken, but Farcia was unaware of it. The Enforcer had allowed the charade to continue as a way to manipulate and use her. For years it had been that way the master assuming she had control when she didn’t.
Enforcer, she said, entering into the mother ship.
The woman spoke to the shadows, believing that he was there. She held up her left arm. The sleeve was adorned in the mechanical fabric.
The Gateway technology do we have it? Farcia asked.
The answer was yes. Even she could sense it. Outside the mother ship, the whole area teemed with activity; his armies were deployed, patrolling space and protecting the instrument.
Indeed, the Enforcer had managed to salvage the research and rebuild it. The construction was almost complete. The final product could likely do as she hoped. But the Enforcer had no intention to share, let alone to serve. He had visions of his own. He was the master now.
Farcia walked on in the darkness, asking again. Her questions echoed without reply. Even as her ships waited outside, the woman was virtually defenseless. Naturally, he thought of killing her. His combat drones could strike at any moment, slicing her apart.
No, he thought. The risk is still too high. The Endervar vessels nearby were poised to do the same to crush him, if necessary.
Instead, the Enforcer indulged in another idea. Even he possessed emotion. The grievance burned within. No one would control him ever again.
Chapter 42
The final assault had taken place here, in the dark between the stars. Twenty-one years ago, Julian and his strike force had crossed into this very area, launching an attack that would be their last. Now a new conflict was set to begin. The battlefield emerged, destined for calamity.
The probes from the Adamant crept from a distance. Their telescopes and scans amplified, studying the sight. What they found was a project in the making. It was vast and primed to react.
You were right, the Destroyer said. They’ve harnessed the energy they need.
The analysis was coming through. It appeared in the Adamant’s command center, though the vessel itself was still over a light-year away.
Arendi looked over the data, realizing that it confirmed her guess. She saw no shards, however. Instead, the exotic matter had converged, becoming a colossal mass in the middle of space. The scans showed a radius of almost si
xty thousand kilometers. A distance akin to a gas giant, or several Earths strung together. Only this object had stiffened and had begun to decay.
The probes had failed to understand what they were looking at; the readings were a hodgepodge of unintelligible data. To some degree, the matter was almost invisible, slipping in and out of existence. But Arendi knew its significance. A dead universe, she thought. The corpse was crumpled. The red and black energy surrendered itself like a shriveled piece of flesh. It probably couldn’t even exist in this reality, not under the known physical laws. And yet, here it was. Intact, although shrinking. The Enforcer had found a way to preserve the remains. A powerful containment field enclosed the exotic matter. Objects of machine design orbited around the incredibly unique resource, protecting it from any collapse.
A pylon, Arendi said, recognizing the domed shape of the orbiting objects. Without them, the matter would die out.
She was in the room with Alysdeon and the Destroyer, attempting to plan a strategy. The images of the pylons filled the holoscreen; the structures repeated, dotting the periphery around the exotic matter. The probes, however, detected no major energy charge. At least not yet.
This is how they’ll power the Gateway, Arendi said. It will probably act as a chamber to nurture the reaction.
The holographic view of the site pulled back. A field of pylons formed a loose ring. It crowned the alien remains in a near ellipse.
But that wasn’t all. The surrounding space was also heavily guarded. The machine army materialized over the virtual map, forming a twisting cloud that patrolled along. The enemy drones numbered in the tens of thousands. The wave of ships tentacled over and under the carcass of matter, waiting to shield or attack.
The Enforcer, the Destroyer said. He’s here. Somewhere.
He narrowed his eyes. He gazed at the virtual field of space, searching for any hint of anomaly. For now, the probes had found no sign of the elusive mother ship. The Destroyer had wounded the giant vessel, but who knew to what extent. He could only speculate that the craft was repaired, hiding, and likely cloaked. The final piece of the project the Gateway technology was nowhere to be seen.
He must be ready for us, Arendi said. He’s probably building in redundancies. I don’t think he needs that many pylons.
Then nothing can be left standing, the Destroyer replied.
He made the vow, despite the odds. The calculations were already running through his mind. The libraries of strategy were attempting to decipher and crack the solution to this conflict.
Hmph, he said, imagining the obstacles before them. The swarm of unmanned drone fighters lay in wait. It outnumbered his own forces five-to-one. The Destroyer paused, realizing this would be no easy matter. The area ahead was effectively a lion’s den.
The Enforcer and his mother ship are probably waiting to devour us, he said, detecting a possible trap.
She took stock of their own forces. It included the Adamant, the revived juggernaut a partially functioning ship and a smaller fleet of drone fighters. Even with what had been salvaged from the Defector’s stronghold, they were still outmatched.
Alysdeon’s violet eyes dimmed, thinking of the threat. It was obvious to them all. To ensure victory, they needed more ships.
If only time was on our side, Arendi said.
She walked closer to the holographic map, worried. The Gateway technology had to be there, lurking in the shadows. She was sure it was close to completion. Or maybe it was already assembled. For all they knew, it could activate at any moment.
I think we need to attack now, she said. Do as much damage as we can while we still have a chance.
Arendi pointed to the ring of pylons and what they sought to sustain. Without the energy source, the Gateway technology will be useless.
Her recommendation was to start there; it was only a matter of how. To proceed, they’d have to fight through a swarm of defending drones and maybe the mother ship itself.
I don’t think our weapons will do much against the exotic matter. It seems to exist on another plane of reality.
Arendi didn’t know. None of them did. It was an outcome they couldn’t leave to chance.
The Destroyer stroked his chin. He agreed with Arendi’s intention, but he thought the approach was all wrong. Conventional tactics wouldn’t win this battle. Something devious was needed.
Don’t worry, he said. This battle is ours.
The Destroyer tapped the side of his head. The strategy was in his mind. They’d need to do more than just attack. He outlined the plan and showed them the proposed maneuvers on the holoscreen. It was unorthodox, to say the least. But the Destroyer was confident. He had been studying his prey, trying to detect any weakness. During his previous intrusion into the mother ship, he had found several and was eager to exploit them.
It’ll give us a fighting chance, he said. More important, it would also bring them face-to-face with the Enforcer something he couldn’t resist pursuing.
He laughed. Of course, we probably won’t survive this, he added.
Then we’ll go down fighting, Arendi said.
She examined the strategy and thought it was sound. While it was full of risk, she was ready to take one final gamble.
Alysdeon herself smiled grimly. she said.
The four-hundred-year-old woman didn’t mind. Not at all. In their own way, they had all been preparing for this eventuality. Their collective experience would be put to the test.
Alysdeon pulled a weapon from the belt at her waist. The sword equipped with the latest technologies entered her hands. She then remembered the one person who had brought them together, all those years ago, and lit the device.
***
The Destroyer’s own forces quietly prepared. Every machine on board the Adamant took position. It included bombers, space superiority fighters, ground troops, and even repair bots. The Destroyer controlled it all. His consciousness fed into the mechanical constructs, ordering them to move and brace for deployment.
Arendi could hear the army march. The seven-foot infiltrator droids crouched at attention and then entered the various launch bays inside the Adamant, ready to exit. In column after column, they nestled inside, contorting their plated bodies into each chute.
The klaxon then went off. The Adamant was about to embark. Arendi herself was in the armory nearby. She stood behind Alysdeon, making the final adjustments. Both of them had exchanged their gear for full suits of armor. The nanomachines lining the silver fabrics energized.
Alysdeon flexed her hands, feeling the microrobotics at her finger tips. Every limb was stripped in silver and black, imbued now with even more strength and speed. Along her cheeks, the implants in her face twinkled in gold, processing the code. Her neural systems were syncing with the machine power under her command.
Checking, Arendi said. Do you see it?
Arendi installed an additional piece. She carefully placed the cerebral chip at the base of Alysdeon’s neck. The solid piece of metal latched against the skin. The microscopic threads inside the chip were starting to vein through and connect with flesh.
I’m sorry, Arendi said, hearing Alysdeon’s muted moan. But you may need it. Just in case.
The countermeasure settled. Arendi stepped away from Aly
sdeon as the woman rose. Her gold hair fell back into place, concealing the cerebral chip. They then looked at each other and saw that they were both clothed from neck to toe in cybernetic metal.
Alysdeon now stood larger, but she was surprisingly light in her movements as she walked. Despite her ageless and youthful face, the woman looked fierce. The power armor added an extra layer of mechanical muscle to her every body part. It conformed and sealed close to her skin, becoming a perfect fit.
She spoke of Farcia, the one factor that might muddle the whole affair. Arendi had been searching for any signs of the woman, and the probes had found something. A small number of Endervar vessels had been detected within the vicinity. It was probably the same group that had taken Farcia away. The woman had likely rejoined the Enforcer. But whether she was in danger or in full control was another matter.
Arendi wasn’t sure what to assume. I expected more Endervar ships, she said.
Altogether, there were only eleven of them, each a diamond from a distance. For some reason, the vessels hovered in their own corner of space, seemingly detached from the rest of the enemy fleet.
They still might be an obstacle, Arendi said. We’ll have to strike fast.
Alysdeon answered by clenching her fist. She punched the air with all her newfound strength. The machine armor flung her hand up like a bullet.
Arendi had no doubt. She took her own enhancement and placed the armbands around her wrists. The spatial weaponry clamped on and the two cuffs of black crackled. This was it, she realized. The final moments before the storm. The klaxon from the Adamant continued to sound. The march outside stopped; the troops had all assembled.
Alysdeon calmly listened to the siren, touching the back of her long hair. Rather than tie it up, she wrapped the end around the fingers of one hand and then took a combat knife from the armory, cutting through the gold strands, and letting the locks fall to the floor.