by Gregg Vann
{I’ve just accessed the features built into this android, monk}
{You and I need to talk}
Chapter Eighteen
“Remind me again why I shouldn’t just kill you where you stand,” Chancellor Awi Stenth said, leaning forward across his desk to glower at the unusual visitor to Special Corp headquarters. Stenth’s tone, much like his words, was unambiguous—the threat not merely implied, but promised.
{Because I’m offering the Udek an opportunity to free themselves from the controlling yoke of the Bodhi, once and for all. And a chance at revenge for all of the indignities they’ve heaped on you over the years}
Stenth sighed, and then he waved a hand dismissively, clearly unimpressed. “Yes, yes. So you said when you first contacted my government to arrange your visit to Ko’ln. You managed to pique enough interest in the Presidium for them to forward this to me for assessment—no small achievement by the way, very few people just get to drop in. But you see, they’ve tasked me with finding out if you’re actually useful to us, in any regard. So instead of grandiose promises, devoid of detail, I’ll need some specificity if you intend to leave this office alive.”
Akira Miso stepped in closer, pressing his hands down flat on Stenth’s desk. He met the chancellor’s gaze. {Then you shall have it}
The android’s mechanical voice resonated loudly throughout the office, and Stenth realized with some amusement that Miso was trying to intimidate him. The raised volume of his speech, the physical proximity—mannerisms calculated to affect. Yet it was all too predictable, the chancellor thought to himself, and wholly ineffective.
“I’m waiting,” Awi Stenth replied, the slight scowl he wore signaling he was neither frightened nor amused.
Miso sensed that his gambit had failed, and he removed his hands from the desk to stand up straight again. He took a small step back and softened his tone. I must play this one cautiously, Miso thought. There is too much at stake, and Stenth is no fool. {I was one of the original masters of Bodhi Prime, equal in every way to Brother Dyson}
“Yes, I know all about that. As soon as you contacted us, I pulled your file to review it.”
{My file? You kept a record on me?}
The chancellor smiled. “We keep a record on everyone, Miso. But I’m also a keen student of history. It’s a bit of a job requirement, you see. So you’ll understand if I’m already finding your story rather tiresome.”
{Then allow me the chance to make it more interesting. As you know, the Bodhi keep all of their sensitive information compartmentalized, so that very few people understand the entirety of how the transfer process works. Not only was I there when the procedure was originally developed, but I also have root-level access to all of the data stored at the monastery. Before arriving on Ko’ln, I used that clearance to obtain machine schematics, operational guidelines, and copious amounts of highly detailed research—essentially every piece of documentation I could find pertaining to the Bodhi transference process}
Despite his initial reluctance, and immediate dislike of the man, Chancellor Stenth suddenly found himself very interested in what Miso had to say. “So what you’re telling me is—”
{What I’m telling you is that I have it with me. Everything. All the secrets to consciousness transfer, right here on Ko’ln. You no longer need to fear the Bodhi, Chancellor, or their toothless threats to block access to the procedure. Or bow down to the Volasi, just for an opportunity to use their inferior facilities}
“With that information we could build our own transference clinics,” Stenth said. The chancellor steepled his fingers together, resting his chin at the apex, and then he briefly became lost in thought. Awi Stenth stared at the android intently as he considered the startling revelation—the possibilities presented by it blossoming in his mind. “You realize, of course, that this fundamentally changes everything. Not only would it remove the last major obstacle to Udek military expansion, freeing us from the meddling Bodhi once and for all, but we could also begin exerting our influence into other arenas—diversifying our means of authority, and employing new methods to control the other races. A soft subjugation, if you will. But nonetheless, a measurable gain in power. The Udek could continue limiting access to the transference process—just as the Bodhi do now. But use that new influence to coerce others into doing our bidding instead.”
{Yes, that’s it. Exactly. I see you understand what I’m offering. And just think how much more valuable that influence will be once Bodhi Prime is destroyed. The Udek will have a virtual monopoly on the most sought after commodity in the galaxy}
“Destroyed?” Stenth gave the android a quizzical look. “But why? Why destroy the monastery?”
{It’s my only…request, Chancellor. My part of this bargain. I want the Udek fleet to level the monastery on Prime—to leave the entire planet irradiated and uninhabitable. Those monks, my brothers, left me to die, while they grew fat with wealth and power} Miso began to lose his temper, and with it, any pretense of diplomacy. {I will have my revenge, Stenth. I want them killed—each and every one of them. I demand it! The Bodhi must pay for what they’ve done to me}
The Udek smirked, and Miso saw the flicker of danger pass behind Stenth’s eyes. “Oh, they will pay, Miso. You needn’t worry about that. But not how you envision it. I’ve just had a rather inspired idea. We will seize the monastery instead of razing it, and have the Bodhi work for us. Why spend all of that time and money building our own facilities when we can simply take over theirs? We would have done it years ago, but the other races prevented us. We also feared the Bodhi might destroy the technology rather than have it fall into our hands. But if we already possess that knowledge, the danger is removed. And to quell any potential saber rattling, we’ll explain to everyone that access to the transference technology will continue on, unimpeded. Well, mostly unimpeded. But we will be the gatekeepers now, not the Bodhi.”
{No!} Miso thundered, slamming a tightly clenched fist against his own chest. {That is unacceptable. I want the Bodhi wiped out. Completely! That is the deal I’m offering you. I want the planet left in ruins. I want—}
“Yes, yes, yes,” Stenth replied, mockingly. “I realize that. But the thing is…well, I really don’t care what you want. While you’ve been standing there, blustering on with your demands—bloviating like some impotent fool who thinks he has actual leverage—we’ve been busy scanning that android body you’re wearing. I’ve been following the real-time reports from our science division on this screen. See?” Stenth spun one of the monitors on his desk around to show Miso the three-dimensional display. “Our researchers have never seen anything quite like you before; this is clearly some new form of Bodhi technology.”
The chancellor rotated the display back to its original position, and then he pressed a small, illuminated button set into the top of his desk. It flashed from yellow to red. “We’ve already seized your ship, Miso. And now that I’ve heard what you have to say, and we’ve fully analyzed your android form, I think we’ll take that from you as well. Don’t worry, no matter how skillfully you’ve hidden the secrets you stole from the Bodhi, we’ll find them. I promise you that.” Awi Stenth stood up calmly as four heavily armed Udek commandos rushed into the room. “You see, Miso, while we do appreciate the information you’ve brought us—and we do, we really do—we don’t need your cooperation to exploit it.”
Stenth nodded to the commandos and said, “Take him. Use calibrated EMP blasts to shut that thing down.”
All four soldiers fired at once, striking Miso in the chest with highly concentrated electromagnetic pulses—specifically designed to disable or destroy electronic equipment. Miso found himself instantly frozen in his rage, halted mid-lunge as he moved to attack Stenth.
For his part, the Chancellor of the Udek Special Corp appeared quite smug—satisfied that his plan had worked, and mentally toying with the new range of possibilities before him. “You know, Miso, I initially had my doubts about even letting you land on Ko’ln. B
ut with everything you’ll provide us from the Bodhi, I’m really glad that I changed my mind.” He turned to address the nearest commando. “Get a cart in here and tip him over onto it. Then take him down to the lab. The scans revealed no trace of Bodhi fail-safes, so I want this android and his ship carefully dissected—every secret ferreted out.”
“Yes, sir,” the soldier replied.
Miso continued to stare at Chancellor Stenth’s face. He had no choice; his head was locked in place, and Miso was powerless to move or defend himself. He noted the approach of two commandos in his peripheral field of view, and anger and helplessness began warring for attention in Miso’s mind. Surprisingly, neither of those emotions achieved victory. It was confusion that won out as Miso suddenly lost his sight, and then everything else faded into a black and silent void as each of his remaining senses disappeared in turn. Miso’s vision was rendered completely blank except for a tiny, pulsing red light, right in the center of his view. The steady flash of color juxtaposed sharply against the deep ebony background. A white rectangle abruptly appeared, with highly defined red text floating inside of it. The message began to slowly scroll through the frame.
{Tactical initialization in progress…}
{Protection Protocols—Auto Engage}
{Commence Automated Defensive System}
What in Buddha’s name is this? Miso asked himself.
A massive surge of power shot through his body, and Miso’s senses and mobility were instantly restored. He watched in wonder as a small housing emerged from his right forearm, and then four micro-missiles reached out from it, striking each of the Udek commandos squarely in the face before detonating. Their headless bodies dropped to the ground at almost the exact same moment, as if their deaths had been intricately choreographed by some macabre assassin. Miso’s left arm extended next—unbidden—and a built-in emitter immobilized Awi Stenth with a steady stream of electrical pulses. The weapon employed a precise and carefully calculated amount of current, finely tuned to interrupt Stenth’s neural processing.
All of this happened in mere seconds.
Miso recovered his wits enough to resume control of his appendages. Then he approached Awi Stenth, watching as beads of sweat started to form on the man’s cheeks. A new message popped up on the android’s internal HUD.
{A tactical emergency has auto-activated the weapons array. Would you like to keep the defensive options available?}
Oh yes, Miso thought.
I would indeed.
He surveyed the impressive list of weaponry displayed on the HUD, and Miso allowed himself an inward smile.
It looks like I underestimated you completely, Augustus. You and I are far more alike than you’d ever care to admit. But back to matters at hand.
Miso leaned in close to the still-paralyzed leader of the Udek Special Corp, indisputably one of the most powerful men on Ko’ln—and by extension, the entire galaxy. He placed his mirror-like face mere inches from the man’s own.
{Now, Chancellor Stenth, let’s see if we can work out an arrangement we’ll both be happy with}
{Before I give in to my darker impulses…}
{And go ahead and kill you right now}
Chapter Nineteen
{Integrated weapons systems?} Tien said.
“Yes,” Brother Ryll admitted reluctantly, “and extremely powerful ones at that. But as you can see in the HUD, there are several non-lethal options available as well. We tried to include a solution for every conceivable situation, and ways to minimize the potential loss of life, naturally.”
The young monk was nervous, and rightly so. Not just because he was being faced down by a heavily armed assassin—with a short fuse, and a healthy propensity for violence—but also because Ryll’s entire belief system had been thrown into chaos when he’d first learned about Brother Dyson’s plans to arm the atonement monks. To discover the nature of his master’s secret project, and to understand the inherent violence of it, that was bad enough. But for others to find out about these tools of destruction made things even worse. Brother Ryll knew that Tien deserved answers, and a full explanation about how he’d arrived at this point—walking around in a weaponized android body. But how do you properly explain something that you can’t even justify to yourself? Sure, Brother Ryll could provide suitable answers and salient facts about the androids—regarding how they functioned, and what they were capable of. That part was easy. But a convincing rationale behind why they were developed in the first place? That might prove impossible. Despite his personal misgivings, the determined monk bent himself to the task.
“It is… It was, a secret initiative begun by Brother Dyson. When the Volasi made their initial breakthrough, and began offering consciousness transfer to other races, my master understood the gravity of that moment. He knew the Bodhi would eventually lose influence, and consequently, our protection. It would happen slowly at first, but our considerable sway would erode as the Volasi improved and perfected their methods; it was inevitable. And when they finally became our equals—a question of when, not if—our monopoly would be gone. And the Bodhi would be left vulnerable.”
Brother Ryll glanced across the laboratory at a circular window overlooking the city of Edo. He took a much-needed moment to collect his thoughts. The monk noticed several small vehicles flitting through the brightly lit water beyond the glass, moving from dome to dome as they carried out individual agendas and activities, completely oblivious to the heady deliberations transpiring on this side of the window. Brother Ryll suddenly, desperately, wished he were inside any one of those transports, regardless of destination or objective—anywhere, but here. But there was no escaping his obligations.
“Brother Dyson is an extremely intelligent man,” Ryll said, turning his attention back to Tien. “But I believe you already know that. He is also a realist. My master knows full well that we’ve made powerful enemies over the years, ones who would love nothing more than to loot the monastery on Prime and kill all of us. So he began devising a new way to protect the Bodhi, enacting a radical plan to safeguard the monastery well into the future, long after our current power has waned.”
{Dyson was right about that} Tien agreed. {The Bodhi have amassed an impressive collection of enemies over the last two centuries, a list so long that it might even eclipse my own. You will need an effective deterrent to keep them all at bay} Tien glanced down at his android body again, and then reviewed the status reports flashing across his HUD, detailing the ready state of each weapon. {That certainly explains the why of this, but how and where did you develop this technology? It seems far beyond the purview of simple monks}
“All of the research and fabrication was done on Prime,” Ryll replied. “It was a fairly simple matter to integrate pre-existing weapons platforms into our newest series of atonement monk. The nanite-infused metal we use to construct them is extremely versatile—infinitely pliable, yet incredibly strong. The hardest part for us was picking out what weapons to include, and where they should be positioned on the body. The Series 10 has tremendous built-in power capabilities, so space and concealment were the only real issues we encountered.”
{So you decided to build your own army to protect the monastery. In the greater scheme of things, I suppose that only makes sense. But how do you control them?}
“We aren’t fighters, Tien. That’s no secret to anyone. So the androids were designed to be fully autonomous soldiers—with a single directive. They are specifically programmed to protect Bodhi Prime. When complete, the Series 10 army, along with our existing planetary defenses, should serve to replace the protection we’re losing from the broken monopoly on consciousness transfer.”
Tien couldn’t believe the words filtering in through his audio sensors.
{Autonomous soldiers? You’re not serious. Only misguided fools with no concept of war would equip independent machines with lethal means. There isn’t a targeting program in existence with a foolproof threat-discrimination protocol—and there never will b
e. Without sentience, it’s just not possible. In their very first engagement, these androids of yours will inflict friendly-fire casualties and countless innocent deaths, guaranteed. Do you really think the Bodhi are the first ones to attempt this? Many races, with far more military experience than you, have tried it in the past. And they all failed}
“Yes, yes. Of course,” Ryll said. The perceived slight against his order fostered a measure of bravado in the monk, and his tone turned prideful, almost arrogant. “Brother Dyson understood the problem, and he researched it extensively. You continue to underestimate him, Tien. And you’re also forgetting another critical piece of information. The Bodhi are the only civilization in the galaxy who’ve developed anything as advanced as the Operational Matrices and Shepherd Personalities used to control our atonement cyborgs. No one excels at artificial intelligence like we do. No one. We have centuries of real-world experience as proof.”
{I wouldn’t brag about creating and then subjugating sentient beings, monk. Not even the Udek stoop so low}
“The Series 10 are not the same,” Ryll said with conviction. “We recognized the independent nature of the Operational Matrices controlling our older models. We saw, first hand, the emergence of individual identities in some of those atonement monks—and nascent forms of limited self-awareness in others. So we no longer use that technology. In fact, we’ve abandoned the approach entirely, moving from flesh and metal cyborgs to purely mechanical androids. We have even provided bodies to the small number of atonement monks who gained self-awareness, decisively closing that chapter.” Ryll pointed at Tien. “These new Series 10 models were redesigned from the ground up, specifically for the task at hand, without the storage capacity or processing power required to achieve sentience—intentionally, or otherwise. It’s simply no longer a possibility, because their pared-down operating systems were carefully crafted, based off the mental matri—”