X-CALIBUR
The Descent
Thomas Manning, thanks again for all of your input.
If you keep helping me like you have, I may have to give you a co-author credit!
Copyright R. Jackson-Lawrence 2014
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All rights reserved
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any forms or by any means, without the prior permission in writing by the author.
All characters and events depicted in this
book are fictitious and any resemblance
to real persons, living or dead, is
purely coincidental.
Cover images copyright Steve Swayne and Sirarturo.
Used under creative commons licence.
(https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/legalcode).
ISBN 978-1502853028
The Knight’s Code
A knight should protect the weak and help the helpless. They should be truthful and honourable, both graceful in defeat and merciful in victory.
Chapter 1
Unwelcome Visitors
Earth Year 6239
Arthur was woken by a loud hammering at his door. He rolled over, trying to ignore it, but the hammering and shouting became more insistent. Almost eight months had passed since the fleet of cruisers and scout ships had touched down upon the ruins of Glastonbury, and every day since seemed to have brought new problems, problems the people looked to Arthur and his companions to fix.
“Arthur, please,” a woman’s voice pleaded. “I think they’re going to kill them.”
He dragged himself out of bed and pulled on some clothes, black trousers and a t-shirt similar to those he wore in the factory. “Just a minute,” he called. “I’m coming.”
He opened the door to find Alison, previously known as Eve 119, looking flustered and upset. “Please,” she begged. “You have to stop them.”
Alison was responsible for one of the communal areas that had been established after the fleet had landed. Most of the former slaves were used to eating together, and found the small galleys on the stolen ships to be sterile and unappealing. As the ships were slowly dismantled, their parts used to construct homes, Alison took charge of several of the food dispensers and set them up in the remains of a cruiser’s cargo hold. The people of Camelot had taken to referring to it as Alison’s Eatery, and it was widely known as a place to get a bland, unappetising but nutritionally balanced meal at any time of the day or night.
Arthur ran through the streets of Camelot, his feet slapping in the muddy dirt, weaving in and out of the hastily constructed homes. Fortunately, many of the slaves had been freed from the factories, where they were used to building components for the various technological devices of the Mori. This included their ships, and as Arthur discovered, they were just as skilled at dismantling them as they were at assembling them.
Panels from the ships had been used to construct makeshift shelters, haphazardly arranged across the ruins of Glastonbury to form a shanty town. Power supplies from the ships provided light and heat, and the wash rooms had been salvaged for bathing and clean water. The cargo holds of the cruisers had been re-purposed into communal areas and the infirmary.
“What happened?” Arthur asked, as Alison tried to keep pace behind him.
“Some of my customers took a disliking to two Mori eating at one of the tables,” Alison replied. “They dragged them outside, said they’re going to show them who’s superior.”
Arthur nodded. It was a story he’d heard all too often. Many of the former slaves were still struggling with their programming, and despite spending time together since leaving the hive, many still saw the Mori as the enemy, regardless of what they did for the community as a whole. Even with his seat at the Round Table, Gar-Wan was still the recipient of public harassment and insults, and he too had been physically assaulted on one occasion.
Arthur turned the corner to find a broad Dorgan man attempting to hold back four humans, the two Mori on the floor behind him.
“Stand down,” Arthur commanded. “What’s going on here?”
Arthur’s presence seemed to make everyone pause. The four humans looked to each other, waiting for one of them to speak, while the broad shouldered Dorgan let out a sigh of relief. Alison ran to the aid of the two Mori.
“They’re still alive,” she said. “Please, Oscar, help me get them to the infirmary.”
Oscar, the Dorgan, helped the two Mori to their feet. They had been badly beaten, bleeding from between the ridges on their faces and necks. One was barely able to support his own weight, hobbling away as Oscar gave him his arm to lean on.
“What happened here?” Arthur demanded, staring at each of them in turn.
The four humans looked to each other, again hesitant to speak. After an uncomfortable silence, the largest of the group stepped forwards, shaking his fist as he spoke. “They’re the enemy,” he said. “They think they’re like us, that they can just say sorry for what they did and everything’s forgotten.”
“And what did they do?” Arthur asked. “What did they apologise for?”
A slight woman at the back of the group stepped forwards. “You know what they did!” she hissed. “I was a house slave for four years, and every day my master would beat me or starve me, just to remind me he was better than me. They deserved to be punished for what they did.”
“And those two Mori, one of them was your master?” Arthur asked.
“What? No,” the slight woman replied. “They’re all the same though, all of them.”
Arthur sighed, closing his eyes and counting to ten to stop himself from lashing out at her stupidity. “So, because your master isn’t here,” he continued, “left behind on the hive I freed you from, you decide that any Mori will do? Anyone you don’t like the look of, they deserve a beating. Is that right?”
“She didn’t mean-” the large man began before Arthur cut him off.
“I wasn’t finished!” Arthur yelled. “Right at this moment, I don’t like the look of you lot much. By your logic, it’s okay for me to attack you, kick you while you’re lying on the ground, begging for me to stop. Is that how it’s going to be around here?”
Arthur paused, staring down at them. He was still as physically imposing as he had been on the hive ship, and his regular training with Lance and Gwen had only served to increase his bulk. The four people had begun to look pale, unconsciously edging away from him.
“Go,” Arthur said. “Go home. Think about what happened here tonight. If anything like this ever happens again, Alison will tell me where to find you. Then we’ll see who’s left bleeding in the dirt.”
The four of them turned and ran, not stopping until they were out of sight.
*****
Arthur turned and walked slowly back towards his home. He still lived in the scout ship he had flown in when they returned to Earth, though the gangway was never closed. Gwen slept in the room next to him, and Lance in another room across the curved hallway. It was one of the few ships still capable of flight, the others having been stripped down to bare skeletons, unusable pieces cast aside.
It had made sense at the time. There were far more slaves than there were rooms aboard the ships, hundreds of them had crammed in together to escape a life of slavery on the hive. The city of Glastonbury was nothing but ruins, bricks and stones outlining where a building or road used to be. Camelot was still little more than an idea, a loose collection of shelters and communal areas, but it was an idea worth persisting with.
As he approached the gangway, he noticed the sun begin to edge over the horizon, the first rays of daylight castin
g long shadows across the city. The council was meeting in less than an hour, he realised. Another broken night’s sleep, another problem he was called upon to fix. When he’d imagined his freedom, not once did he think of endless meetings and resolving petty disputes and squabbles.
“You too, then?” Gwen asked, rousing him from his melancholy.
“I’m sorry?” Arthur replied, yawning.
“Don’t do that,” Gwen said teasingly, yawning back at him. “I was just starting to feel awake!”
Arthur laughed. “Where are you off to?” he asked.
“The infirmary,” Gwen replied. “Victims of a fight I think.”
“Two Mori,” Arthur told her. “A group of humans didn’t like the way they were eating or something.”
“When is this going to end?” Gwen said despondently. “We’re free, we’re all finally free. Why can’t everyone just get along?”
“I don’t know,” Arthur replied. “I’m going to speak to Merlin about it at the council. I thought it would get better, when everyone saw how working together was better than fighting. Maybe he’ll have an idea which doesn’t involve me bashing all their heads together.”
Eve smiled up at him. “I don’t know, there’s quite a few people I think that might help,” she said, winking at him. “I’ll get to the council as soon as I can.”
“I’ll let them know,” Arthur replied, watching her as she walked quickly towards the centre of the city.
Arthur showered and changed before getting breakfast in the galley. Midway through his bowl of unpleasant slop, Lance entered, looking just as tired as Arthur felt. Lance was wearing a t-shirt with a picture and writing on the front, a gift from Merlin from deep within Glastonbury Tor. It was black and depicted an armoured man with some sort of laser sword.
“What is that on your shirt?” Arthur asked in between mouthfuls.
“One of the knights, I think,” Lance replied. “Merlin gave it to me.”
“That was kind of him,” Arthur said, staring down at his breakfast. “Lance, do you ever wish you were, I don’t know, back on the mine.”
Lance chuckled and sat down heavily next to his friend. “Every day,” he said. “Life was so easy then. Get up, work, eat, then sleep. Simple. No one ever asked me my opinion about anything, and no one ever dragged me out of bed because someone had wandered off and they couldn’t find them.”
“Exactly,” Arthur agreed. “Why can’t it be like that here? Why is everything our problem?”
“Because you’re Arthur Pendragon, King of the Britons,” Lance replied, mimicking Merlin’s voice.
“I never claimed that!” Arthur objected.
“Well, you did,” Lance reminded him. “When we opened the sealed doors to the factory. Oh, and when we landed and you made your grand welcome speech. Then there was the time-”
“Okay, okay,” Arthur interrupted. “I may have mentioned it once or twice, but it really wasn’t my idea. I only wanted freedom.”
“Welcome to freedom,” Lance remarked with a smile.
They finished their breakfast and walked together from the scout ship. They passed one of the communal areas, which was already busy despite the early hour. Small groups of people were laughing and talking together as they enjoyed their meal, telling stories and tall tales from their time on the hive. Arthur did his best to ignore them as walked by.
The council was held in the drone hangar at the top of the Tor. Merlin had used the four mechanical arms to build a large circular table with chairs arranged around it. Within the centre of the table were holographic emitters, one for Merlin and others to project plans of the city or other items they needed to discuss.
“Good morning, my King,” Merlin said formally as they entered. “And to you, Sir Lancelot.”
“Good morning,” Arthur replied, while Lance returned a friendly wave.
Gar-Wan was already present, sat in his usual chair to the left of Merlin. Arthur’s seat was to the right, with Gwen next to him. Lancelot’s chair was beside Gar-Wan’s, leaving seven chairs unoccupied. When Arthur asked why Merlin had made space for twelve at the table, Merlin had only smiled and insisted it was the appropriate number.
Once they were seated, Arthur explained that Gwen would be late and explained why. Gar-Wan shook his head mournfully at the news. The number of attacks against the Mori was increasing, despite Arthur’s words to the people of Camelot.
“We need to do more about these attacks,” Arthur said as he concluded his description of the previous night. “And I can’t keep missing this much sleep, I can barely concentrate. Who was responsible for maintaining order in the original Camelot?”
“Why, your knights, Arthur,” Merlin replied.
“So, just the five of us?” Lance asked incredulously. “That’s crazy!”
“It’s four, actually,” Merlin said. “I am not, and will never be a knight. I am a wizard!”
“So, four,” Arthur remarked, thinking of the countless sleepless nights that lay ahead of him.
“Of course, in the old Camelot there were hundreds of knights,” Merlin continued. “Patrolling the streets and the walls, always on the lookout for trouble.”
“So why can’t we have more knights?” Arthur asked.
“You’re the King, Arthur,” Merlin reminded him. “You can appoint as many knights as you see fit.”
Arthur exhaled slowly, trying to control the anger and frustration he was feeling. “Why haven’t you told me that before?” he said. “I don’t think I’ve had a full night’s sleep since we landed.”
“I’m sorry, my King,” Merlin said. “I assumed you knew.”
“There’s more to it than just the lack of guards, or knights as you call them,” Gar-Wan said. “The people here have nothing to occupy their time.
“When we landed, they were busy, building shelters and making sure everyone had food to eat. Now they’ve finished with that and there’s nothing for them to do. I know, Merlin, that you’ve made the Ark available to people, to learn about Earth’s history, but it’s just not enough, not for most of them.”
“What do you suggest?” Merlin asked.
“They were all used to working,” Gar-Wan replied. “In the mines, the factories, in the homes and businesses of the Mori. It’s all they’ve known, and it gave them a purpose, something to do with their days.”
“You’re suggesting a return to slavery?” Lance asked angrily.
“No, no, not at all,” Gar-Wan said hurriedly. “Far from it. These people are free, and they’ll always be free, but they still need a purpose. Those creatures that roam outside the city, cars?”
“Cows,” Merlin corrected.
“Cows,” Gar-Wan continued. “Merlin tells me humans used to eat them, and grow crops too. They’d build homes, proper homes, not some temporary shack pieced together from the remains of a scout ship. They’d manufacture new clothes and equipment, whatever people needed, and take pride in what they built.
“If you want to build something here, something to be proud of and something which will last, it’ll take more than some temporary shelters and people lacking purpose. You need to give them something to believe in, more than the freedom they’ve gained.”
Arthur listened intently. Gar-Wan was right, and it amazed him that he hadn’t seen it before. What they’d built, it was temporary at best, they’d seen as much during the winter. Once the novelty of the snow had worn off, it began to soak into people’s homes, and more than one of them had fallen sick from the cold and the wet.
“Thank you, Gar-Wan,” Arthur said as he rose from his chair. “You’re right, absolutely right. It’s not slavery to have a purpose, it’s an important part of life, and if Camelot is ever going to be any more than temporary, we need to start building it.
“Just look at Alison and the communal area she manages. That’s not slavery, that’s just work. It’s her purpose and she enjoys it, and we should offer the others a chance to do the same.
“Lance
, have the Dorgans found anything they can eat here on Earth?”
“I’m not sure,” Lance replied honestly. “I don’t know how many have looked. They’ve been so used to the food dispensers, they may not have considered looking elsewhere.”
“But the food from the dispensers is so bland and tasteless,” Arthur insisted. “And it’s the same every single day. How about you, Gar-Wan?”
“Sal-Wan has discovered a variety of grubs and insects in the surrounding land,” Gar-Wan replied. “They’re not the same as on the hive, but they’re more than edible.”
“So, it’s possible,” Arthur insisted. “The people can raise animals and crops for food, build permanent shelters, and we can start turning this into more than just the place we landed. We can turn this into Camelot, our home.”
“A grand notion, Arthur,” Merlin said with a smile. “And one Uther would have been proud of. Where do we start?”
Arthur looked to the others sat around the table. They looked back at him admiringly, though he had only repeated what Gar-Wan had already said. “Lance,” he said, “you’ll need to speak to the Dorgans, find out if any of them have found food to eat. Gar-Wan, will you do the same with the Mori?”
“Of course,” Gar-Wan replied.
“Merlin, we’ll need to start finding building materials,” Arthur continued. “What did our ancestors use to build homes and cities?”
“They used the trees hereabout, cut them down and shaped the wood into beams and furniture,” Merlin replied. “And stone and metal from mines, though that will be more difficult to extract.”
“Lance and I can instruct them,” Arthur insisted. “And we should be able to find equipment in the ships to make it easier.”
“I’ll begin searching the Ark for local mining possibilities,” Merlin agreed. “What else, my King?”
“We need to start appointing more knights,” Arthur said at last. “I’m tired of being dragged out of bed in the middle of the night.”
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