The Arkhe Principle

by Maxwell Rudolf

  Adda materialized in scarlet lines in a bathrobe and sleep hair. "Úlfheðnar! I apologize for any inconvenience we may have imparted. Please accept my humblest apology and take whatever food you need."

  "Why is a veteran being denied food? Did you bother to run a scan of her metabolism?" Gungnir gave her another and smiled. Reaching inside the drink warmer, he withdrew a coffee and handed her enough Adda's Cream and Sugar to kill an ovr.

  "We were unaware of her status and our bio-scanners nulled out several months prior. I've been waiting on a replacement for several weeks, but with the war..."

  "Get down here. Turn off your building's personality." He turned towards the woman and watched her eat. "You and I have some things to discuss."

  Her name was Senior Lieutenant Wikolia, a veteran of several unnamed skirmishes on the St. George frontier. Telecasting around the safer and more affable parts of Berlin took a few hours, and he made sure she was in the comfort of a nice, cozy armored personnel carrier while he called around. Gungnir threw down the deposit and got her a job as an assistant at the Pelegrine armory where he typically took Asger when it malfunctioned.

  Her apartment came furnished in Plasstien and was environmentally regulated by the local district. A small greenhouse allowed for small amounts of food or spice to be grown, and tubes of recycled nutrient baths kept the soil fresh.

  "Don't let these civilities weaken you. Stay sharp."

  "Thank you, Úlfheðnar. This whole day has been a dream. How can I repay you?" Her sultry voice drained out, tired, but ready to do whatever he wanted. If she continued, all of this would be a waste of time.

  "If you're offering something, stop. You can repay me by being a loyal and productive member of society and work to crush our enemies. Here. Take more metal. Keep this in case something happens. Also, give me that E-Reader over there so I can type in my contact data."

  She reached over, body odor filling the room, and pulled the device off the wall. He typed in his information and handed it over.

  "If you have any problems and I'm in Berlin, I'll help you. Veterans shouldn't be homeless."

  "I'll take a shower and cook us something if you have time to stay. I'm still hungry."

  "No, I have to get back to the CTC. Stay out of trouble."

  "Thank you again."

  21 Enacting the Arkhe Protocol

  "My mom's a good shot, so watch your corners or she might blow your face off," John said. He gripped his Docker, maneuvered through the rust, and stopped every few seconds straining his ear. This was a bad idea from the beginning and going back to the Institute wasn't possible. They'd toss him back in The Egg and set the timer to infinity.

  His mom popped around the corner with her Remi and grabbed John's wrist before he had time to take aim. "What took you so long?"

  He jerked his hand back, jerking it before pulling the trigger. "Let go!" He pushed her off and pointed the Docker at the ground. "This place is massive... Don't grab me like that again."

  Broken ruins dotted their return path, and when John followed his mother to check on the traps she'd set, they were all filled with dead feral children, their faces contorted in agony.

  Her eyes flared up to him and he glared back, giving back everything she gave in return. She glanced to a neo-rabbit outside the gate and he turned away. "These streets weren't always like this. Your father and I spent lots of time here."

  "I don't want to talk about him," he cursed.

  His friend shrugged and scuttled ahead. They climbed over a wall of vined stones and through several nooks and crannies, avoiding any spaces that might trap them, and Neil guided them around plastic buildings. John rubbed his hands over the smooth, rusted pipes, and broken, melted Plasstien. This could never happen to the Institute.

  "He was your father, like him or not. Eventually, you will want to know about him. In the meantime, maybe we should be talking about Victoria Tesla..."

  "I have nothing to do with her." His palms sweated, and he started readying his answers ahead of time. What to say to her? She likely read her file anyway before driving this way.

  "There is a manhunt for her. Tesla's parents were terrorists and stole millions from several banks. Murdered over 40 people. She should not be too far. Do you know how dangerous she is?"

  John ducked down and put his finger on the trigger. "She wanted to be with her parents, I think." His body ached, and he wanted a hot bowl of potatobeans to fight the cold. This was not a new game, and not only had he played the game, he'd won it a few times. Not this time, mom.

  "And I bloody well told you who they are! You are to do as you are told and sneaking out is going to get you expelled or worse. I do not care if you are a friend of hers or not. You have caused a major disruption that could get us both killed. Now, keep your head down, both of you, and keep an eye out."

  John peered through a window and knew the damaged Lionheart, floating knee high off the ground couldn't be the same one his mother drove. "Is that yours?"

  "What does it look like?" She wrestled with the passenger door until prying it free with a piece of discarded Plasstien. Neil got in the back, and he sat next to his mother.

  "When we get you back to the Institute, Shoehorn is going to ask you some questions. I suggest you tell him the truth about what you've done and why. They'll find out anyway." He hadn't heard his mother this mad in a long time. Well, too bad.

  When Rosie pulled up in front of the school, John prepared himself for the worst. But Shoehorn was nowhere to be seen, and a Cadet waved them to the parking deck. They got out and started walking to the front office. Dozens of men, armed with FR-1's, appeared from everywhere a person could hide, and John threw up his hands.

  "Hands in the air!" a Sergeant demanded. He'd never seen a Martel Knight before in person, and this is not how he imagined them.

  Rosie whispered, but not too low. "Do as they say. Do not make any sudden moves. I will take care of this myself." They were thrown on the ground, searched, disarmed, cuffed, bagged, and whisked away.

  * * *

  The metal chair dug into John's thighs, but not as much as the Knight sitting across from him, stabbing holo-buttons on her E-Reader. The name tag read Williams, and if remembered their ranks from her schooling, she would be a Middle Sergeant.

  Her voice was dry and crackled like crumpled paper. "Cadet John Edward Rex?"

  He waited to respond. Was she asking him, because who else could it be?

  "Yes, Sergeant."

  She clicked through a series of menus, slid the screen to the right, glanced down, and back up.

  "Alright Rex, when you attempted your... what do you want to call it? Excursion or an escape?"

  "We were on an outing..."

  The woman stifled a laugh and typed something. "Into Olde Londun? Something is mentioned here about Victoria Tesla?"

  "Cadet Nirvana and I were attacked. I..." his voice drifted off as he remembered the eyes of his captors.

  "Yes?"

  "There are... people in the ruins... They looked like ferals but..."

  "I suggest you forget about those things you saw. I have a lot to do, and dealing with some curious kid was not on my list of things to do today."

  "Do you know if my mom and Cadet Nirvana are okay?"

  Unbuttoning her Remi with a casual glide of her thumb, she said, "Depends on their willingness to cooperate." She shrugged and put her fingers on the screen, the display turning to a new page.

  The questions were intricate and designed to loop back on each other looking for inconsistencies. In fact, some of the questions were like the ones his mother asked him before life at military school when she would ask about his homework. The statements took hours to complete. Some he couldn't answer and when he tried, she gave the same canned response about being more specific.

  She stopped reading for a second, flipped several screens forward, and leaned back. Then she turned to the following screen and continued. She shivered like she was being chewed on by
ice ants. She flipped back. "Chronicle any data you have concerning Arkhe."

  Arkhe...

  "Did you say something? What is the problem? What did you just say?" She asked.

  "I have not said anything..." His mind dissolved, and in the deep remoteness that was his identity, something screamed.

  "Well, do you?" She grabbed the side of the table. The Knight stood staring at him, but past him, as if she was eyeballing something invisible.

  "I do not think so."

  Her pupils became black moons, dilating over her entire eye. The screen flickered. Then the overhead light popped and burnt out and rained down showering sparks. The lock on the door twisted and shot out, punching a hole in the Plassticrete wall.

  John's voice froze.

  The black E-Reader fell from her grip and landed in front of him, and he eyed the flashing screen as a burst of wind flew into the room, throwing John and the E-Reader to the floor.

  A flashing neon word blinked on the screen and jolted him. John's hair stood on end, and electricity rippled through his body.

  "ARKHE!"

  Burning metallic flavors stank up the room, and the wind stopped. A soft blue glow grew around the display. Dark images bewitched him, a tug of war between two identities. Droplets of blood dripped from his nose.

  And words poured out of her mouth like rusted cans dragged down the motorway after winter thaw. When she started, John started to force himself towards the door, but he couldn't balance himself. Wicked random speech formed a pattern, phrases locked, words coalesced, and they looped back, referencing each other for meaning.

  John's consciousness twisted around.

  Mouth open, her tongue mouthing grating metallic sounds, her eyes turning Oracle White, she smiled and moved her hand towards her holster.

  "Enacting Arkhe Protocol..."

  "Move!" His mother shouted down the hall.

  And he wanted to move but he couldn't—his legs moved like they were blocks of ice. He tried to push with one leg. Push off before she could draw her Remi and brain him. The moment slowed.

  A sharp snap of heavy Ozone gushed into the entire room, throwing everyone against the wall. When the blast hit, John flew out of the doorway, smacking his head on the door frame. Stars greeted his vision.

  Rosie ran towards him down the hall from the right, followed by Neil. His muscles freed, and he glanced back in the room. A metal sound erupted from her throat and shattered into his mind.

  "All your yesterdays have lighted fools, the way to bloody death. Out, out, brief candle!" She withdrew her pistol in a fraction moment and a long spray of .50 ball ammo shattered the Plassticrete wall above his head. "Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more." Another burst pulverized the wall behind him and the sharp plastic fragments tore into John's body. "It is a lie told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying zero."

  "Ahhhh!" he screamed, losing his balance and falling face first into the ground. His nose bent but didn't snap. The Plassticrete blast fragments burned in his back.

  >>Line. The Arkhe Principle data acquired. Adjusting reality. Please stand by.

  And reality shifted over like a Roman digi-abacus.

  John stood backward and reversed, the wall solidified. Then he was in the room, rewinding. The lights were on. He was in his chair again and so was she. Oracle White filled his thoughts, and his skin burned warm and wet.

  The memories burned into his mind, but something seemed unnatural about them as if the events didn't happen. His head throbbed, and his vision seemed out of focus for just a brief enough moment for him to realize none of it had been real. Or had it? Reality was slipping away.

  His eyes fell on the next question: "Chronicle any information you have concerning Arkhe." The word drew him in yet again, a gravity well the size, strength, and pull of a black hole. He tried to look way, but the power... overwhelming. Like St. George.

  A voice floated through his head on a steam of quantum wave dust. Words were spoken without meaning or substance. The ethereal voice turned chatter, blending with his mind and fertilizing his neurons. He remained motionless. The E-Reader changed screens, filling with floating, meaningless characters.

  John pulled his head back and glared over at her as she yawned and stretched her arms. A blank node filled the page. Was data missing from the questionnaire? His legs numbed.

  She snatched the machine and fixated on the display. Her fingers clicked the side button three times, and she performed a diagnostic on the device. It bleeped.

  "What were you doing, Cadet?"

  "I thought, um... is the E-Reader working correctly?"

  "Follow me." She dropped it on the table, grabbed his arm, and dragged him outside. His heart pounded, thinking of The Egg's probes and ability to make him bend like a snake and stay in an impossible position for hours. She kicked the exit door and threw him out on the snow. Martel Knights, Remi pistols at the ready, stood around, smoking cigarillos. Soft flakes of snow fell from the sky and stuck on their uniform and goggles.

  He got up and brushed the white powder from his clothes. Neil followed a minute later, then his mother. They lined up next to him, facing out toward the gate and a four-door camouflaged armored autocraft pulled up. When the door opened, John's eyes widened. Dr. Bells wore a red beret, a camo P-6 urban camo suit, and grav assist-jump boots. A standard Remi, holstered in an embossed speed draw holster with two daggers from the 5th special operations unit, hung from his hip.

  He walked around the armored car, flicked his tongue, and the door to the autocraft slid shut. He drew a line with his eyes down the road, whistled a D sharp, and watched it depart into the dark.

  "Inspector Rex. Cadets. My name is Dr. Bells, and I am a professor here at the Institute. If I am not mistaken, both of you are in one of my classes. Additionally, I hold a few other titles of importance here, shall we say, dealing with matters of high-level Kingdom Security." He cleared his throat. "I was reviewing your reports in real time when our system detected an anomaly." His voice shifted from a mere teacher's intonation to a more stylized, aristocratic officer intonation.

  Rosie took a step forward, her teeth clenched. "...so let us begin another way. I can see this is a matter of some magnitude. Victoria Tesla was somehow inserted into our top military academy in such a way you were unable to see her as a threat. And despite our thorough security measures implemented with the latest King's Decree on Kingdom Security, nothing was done. There is a parallel investigation taking place into this, and I believe it is in your best interest for you and me to go have a private meeting before things get ugly."

  "Major laws have been broken. Felonies. These would auto-expel them and initiate serious charges against them. Oh, and when we searched your Lionheart for data, our techs discovered you auto-recorded your conversation with Shoehorn. What were you going to do with that? We have, of course, zeroed it."

  John caught his mom's gaze.

  "These are serious allegations. Has your mother told you about Cadet Tesla?"

  "Some, sir. She told me about her parents."

  "The disturbance occurred from your location a few minutes ago. Did you detect something?"

  "No." He brought his eyes on the bridge of his nose.

  "Inspector, we need to talk. Come with me," Dr. Bells said. He turned, and she followed behind him. He watched his mother point at him, even wave her finger in Bell's face but he didn't budge. Wedging his arms behind his back, he listened to her without speaking much himself, and when she was done, he nodded and spoke for while. She apparently agreed and they ambled back.

  "So here is what we at the Institute are prepared to do. Cadets, we are going to put you both in for promotion and commendation for the potential capture of a threat both against the Institute and the Kingdom as a whole."

  Everyone looked at each other.

  "Inspector Rex, I am going to contact Chief Constable Dove and write you a recommendation r
eport. I will detail your heroic attempt to arrest Victoria Tesla and describe how you rescued your son and Cadet Nirvana from the city. Furthermore, I will go into specific detail about your willingness to cooperate in this high-level security matter. And, Inspector, we are going to have to take over this investigation as of now." He said smugly.

  "You told me over there..."

  "Or, I can have you all shot for treason!" He raised his hand and the Knights drew their weapons and aimed them at his mother.

  Her arms didn't go up, but she exhaled and jerked her shoulders up. "I would have a request. I need to be given a pass to see my son on a regular basis." Why would she want that? Did she think years of not caring could be fixed with some visits?

  "I think this can be arranged without a problem. I need everyone's understanding and oath. There will be no place you can run, no place you can hide that I myself and the Knights will not find you. If we have to send a team to Berlin, we will. Let us go inside and swear you to secrecy in front of a priest."

  22 China?

  Gungnir sat behind a terminal, watching x-ray schematics and digital readouts from the devices he brought in. He toyed with a rainbow graph on the right side of the screen waiting for the technicians to tell him how much metal he was going to get paid, and thought about the amount of money the research portion of his brother's bill was. This was not going to be enough, but he wasn't walking out of here until the offer was enough.

  "Mr. Odinson," a technician said, a Corral singular ocular resting on her forehead. "Where did you say you found these again?"

  He shrugged. "I bought this at a market."

  Another tech shined a green laser on the device while the others waited. The device smoked a brownish red, stinking of Plank fluid. They stared in excitement, and several stood by with fire extinguishers and E-Readers, recording the event.

  "Got this cleaned off. Reads: '2. The pursuit of life extension technology is zeroed.' Looks old. Original. Wonder why it would say that?" He blew off more of the smoke and rubbed his finger across the caked on Plasstien dust.