Raddocks Horizon (Godyssey Legacy Book 1)

by Duran Cross

  Rennin watched Veidan doing laps of the quarantine zone, a big grin spread across his face, and even Rennin found himself smiling. Veidan did a cartwheel mid stride and stopped completely upon landing as his legs and arms began to tremor. He set his face in grim determination and clenched his fists, willing himself to stay upright. After a moment the tremors ceased and he started running again.

  Another cartwheel achieved, and this time he didn’t need to stop. Decora was impressed, and commented to Zillah that Veidan’s system was starting to develop immunities to it in small ways. His code was beginning to correct itself. There was still more work to do, Veidan was still quite some way from being battle ready or anything approaching self reliant.

  Another week passed and Rennin’s treatment had progressed to the point he could now walk around comfortably. Decora spent almost every waking minute with Veidan or at his research station, recoding the cure.

  Veidan was doing a single arm handstand rotating his legs around in a V shape. His face was neutral but his eyes intensely focussed. He was ready for his last test. He’d managed to finally get through an obstacle course with various targets and tag them all cleanly, but a hand-to-hand challenge was to be the final test. Last time he tried anything physically combative was an arm-wrestle with Decora that resulted in an instant fit. Veidan wouldn’t give up though. He could taste the end of his affliction and nothing would stop him. The quarantine zone decontamination doors opened and in walked the only android capable of taking Veidan down: Forgal Lauros.

  Rennin thought this a little ridiculous, but Veidan seemed happy to see him. Lauros emitted a strange presence, somewhat cold but comforting. The two shook hands. Lauros spoke first. “How are you?”

  Veidan straightened his posture almost defiantly. “As good as I can be.”

  “I’m not sure this is such a good idea.”

  “It’s not a good idea,” said Zillah, standing next to Decora with her arms folded.

  “You’re the strongest, if I can hold my own against you, I’ll consider myself fit,” said Veidan, ignoring Zillah.

  “You’re not able to consider yourself anything. If Nexarien thinks you’re fit, then I’ll accept that as fact,” said Lauros.

  Decora couldn’t help but speak up. “If you had seen him only last week you would be able to judge the extremity of his exponential improvement.”

  Lauros didn’t seem to react but with androids it was always difficult to tell. “Very well.”

  Decora put his hand on Lauros’ shoulder. “All I want is a text book wrestle. Saifer’s well and truly capable of combative acrobatics, and his fighting sequences are proficient; but his body is still very frail when it comes to brute force. Brace your feet flat on the ground and lock hands.”

  “You’re playing Mercy?” asked Rennin slightly mystified.

  “How appropriate,” said a voice next to Rennin that made him jump in surprise.

  He looked over to see Valhara seated next to him, “Where the hell did you come from? I’m going to buy you a bell.”

  Decora nodded. “I suppose that’s accurate, though if Saifer goes into a fit I’m sure Forgal won’t make him say ‘mercy’ to end the exercise.”

  Zillah’s glare at Lauros was far from friendly.

  Rennin wasn’t sure but he could have sworn he saw a smirk cross Lauros’ face. They brace themselves and lock hands as Decora instructed. Slowly, they began increasing the pressure. Lauros seemed quite comfortable. “More?”

  Veidan nodded and they locked more fiercely, their muscles bulging in strain. They both glared directly into each other’s eyes. Lauros made a move to overpower, but Veidan managed to stand firm.

  “More,” Veidan ordered.

  Lauros increased his energy output. With the pressure both androids were dealing out, the floor was starting to make sounds of stress. Decora was looking at his gauge. “Okay, Saifer, you’re dealing with Captain Akcoda’s strength equivalent, that’s good enough.”

  Veidan and Lauros heard nothing, they were too occupied. Rennin and most of the room were mesmerised. Veidan grunted as tremors began rippling across his left shoulder.

  “More.”

  “Your call,” said Lauros as he really began to apply pressure. Veidan’s bones could be heard creaking and Lauros began forcing his arms to an awkward angle, causing the lieutenant’s knees to buckle. Veidan refused to give in and tried forcing himself up but the spasm was increasing. He bit down on his tongue and a rush of pain went across his face, he huffed out some cold steam, managing to right himself.

  “Saifer, you’re beyond your own recorded capabilities now, stand down,” said Decora.

  Lauros decided to end it quickly and exerted everything he had to push the lieutenant down. Veidan was strong but never a physical match for Lauros. He began foundering instantly, but refused to give up.

  “Satisfied?” asked Lauros.

  Zillah moved towards Lauros but Decora stopped her, “Leave it be.”

  Veidan’s face was twisted in effort then suddenly his body went limp. Lauros fell forward under his own power and Veidan threw him to the floor. However, the commander had his hands locked and dragged Veidan down with him. Lauros sat up quickly with an incredulous expression, about to start an argument, but when he saw Veidan in a convulsive fit his face dropped. “Are you alright? Saifer?”

  Even though he was shaking violently he was laughing. “G-g-got y-you.”

  Lauros’ return smile was a strange mimicry of Saifer’s apparent good cheer while Decora injected the sedative into the fitful lieutenant. “You cheated,” Lauros said still smiling.

  Perhaps Veidan wasn’t laughing. Perhaps it was the fits. Androids don’t laugh.

  ◆◆◆

  Another week later, Rennin was passed out in a chair to be suddenly awoken by a raised voice. Against his will he was dropping straight back to sleep, due to his medication, but he forced himself to rouse.

  Most of the others in quarantine were allowed into the atrium, a dome that was set up so they could at least feel like something was beyond the isolation level. It was as much as a star ship could provide in space. Most of the patients were up there now, leaving Rennin and only three others in the quarantine zone.

  Rennin glanced around and saw Veidan talking to another android. This other didn’t have the bright green eyes of a CryoZaiyon. It was so obviously artificial it almost wasn’t worth closer scrutiny. Rennin didn’t recognise it but Veidan was visibly fuming.

  He relaxed his mind for a moment to concentrate on their voices. Eventually they faded into hearing range and where he could make out what they were saying. Veidan paced back and forth twice.

  “You knew. You knew and you left us there with no aid.”

  “You were contagious,” said the monotone voice Rennin had heard many times while on mission. This was the android Tactician, a cold calculator. Supposedly this construct was completely immune to hacking, since it was build devoid of any kinds of remote transceivers. It was never to be connected to any kind of network at any time.

  “You were in orbit in a cruiser, you could have shot those flyers down and Indigo Reign would have burned in the wreckage.”

  “We needed to make sure a unit was hit to gain evidence for the Geneva Convention, to ensure the weapon would be banned. And it is now thanks to you and your others,” said the Tactician.

  “In my group alone, five died.”

  “Four of those were attributed to your Wolf-droid dropship.”

  Veidan ignored the Tactician’s observation. “Altogether there were twenty-eight survivors that made it planetside after the Possession went down, and I am one of six alive. Twenty-two deaths and you could have prevented all of them, and that is only from the Possession.”

  “Keep your voice down, lieutenant.”

  “You may order me around on the battlefront but watch your words when you stand in front of me.”

  The Tactician wasn’t intimidated. “Many more people will be spared
as a result.”

  Veidan grabbed the Tactician by the throat so hard Rennin felt the vibrations of something cracking. “You left us, and though your argument bears logic I know you were under orders to study the effects. Bringing the research as evidence was simply a convenient bonus. It’s far too coincidental you had the correct equipment in place to take readings of the virus as soon as the Possession went down but no other ships were anywhere near the location when the Crucible was being attacked. You knew they were going to deploy it and you wanted to see what would happen.”

  Under Rennin’s collar it began to get very hot. Jolen was with Rennin on almost every mission in the last three years. They’d met in boot camp, in the brig no less. “Guinea pigs…” he whispered under his breath.

  Veidan squeezed harder and something metallic does crunch, sounding somewhat like a soft drink can being crushed. If the Tactician needed oxygen, Rennin was sure its face would be purple.

  “If you weren’t such a hopelessly dominated machine I’d break you. If information of this nature reaches me again, I’ll break you so badly your only use will be a life-sized archaic statue to remind me of why we fight. There’s precious little humanity in all of us, including you, we should not bury what little we have as our makers tried to.”

  Veidan then threw the Tactician to the ground with all of his strength. When the wheezing android stood again, Rennin could see that its throat had been completely crushed.

  It ran a hand along its neck looking at Veidan with something akin to anger. “I had orders,” it said. Its damaged voice box sounded like grating steel, producing an uncomfortable grinding noise.

  “I have principles. Discipline will only get you so far. Sooner or later you have to make your own decisions, that’s what this war is all about. Fighting for our rights, our choice,” and with that Veidan left.

  Once the Tactician had also departed, Rennin was left alone with his thoughts. He came to a conclusion that Veidan made an excellent statement about precious little humanity and principles over orders. He didn’t know it then, but that statement would shape his life in time to come.

  ◆◆◆

  A few days after that, Veidan and Rennin had been spending a significant amount of time together. Both of them now being quite healthy, bored and serving in the same garrison, were familiar enough to default to accompanying each other. Rennin wasn’t sure if he could call Veidan a friend; but since losing Jolen he’d spent more and more time with the android and found him most interesting.

  They were sitting at a table playing chess after most of the remaining patients were asleep. Neither had paid much attention to the direction of the war, they were far too disenchanted with their government and their own military division.

  Veidan was adamant that Lauros would never have condoned leaving anyone to be hit with a bioweapon, not that Rennin suspected him. Only a human would do such a thing, or a machine in the fullest sense of the word. CryoZaiyons weren’t machines and the more time Rennin spent with them, the more esteem he held for them. Veidan made a move. “Check.”

  “What a surprise, every move of yours kills something.”

  “Would you prefer poker?”

  Rennin smiled, “Nice try, Sir Count-a-lot.”

  “Memory then?”

  “Now you’re just trying to get to me.”

  “You’re still in check.”

  “I’m stalling, thank you so much.”

  “You’re doing better. You’ve made it to six moves this time.”

  Rennin suddenly clapped as hard as he could in front of the lieutenant. Veidan looked up instantly but otherwise didn’t react at all.

  Rennin slumped slightly. “Sorry, I thought if I surprised you, you’d have a fit and I could win by default.”

  Decora’s voice from behind him made him jump. “Interesting method,” the Medtech said, sitting down. “Saifer, I need a word.”

  “So speak,” said Veidan, his eyes fixed on the board.

  “It might be best in private.”

  “The private and I have been through battle in body and now in wits, I don’t mind what he hears.”

  Decora inclined his head. “Alright. I have some bad news. It’s about the cure, it seems to have caused some unexpected side effects.”

  Veidan looked up. “Such as?”

  “Your cells are rebuilding at almost thirteen times the norm for any android. Theoretically speaking, you could heal yourself almost instantly.”

  “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

  “That is only part of it. You also seem to be growing natural immunities to the remnants of Indigo Reign still in your system. It appears that in some minor areas you can recode yourself to block the weapon, if you concentrate hard enough.”

  “I’m still not seeing a downside,” said Veidan still regarding the game.

  “It’s restoring your coding to its original setting. Any new coding introduced, even if it’s beneficial to your efficiency, may well be attacked like a virus.”

  “I can’t learn, is that what you’re saying?”

  Decora clenched his jaw for a moment. “Not quite. We’re in uncharted waters here, Saifer.”

  Veidan nodded once. “Is it degenerative?”

  “No, I don’t think so. If anything it’s regenerative, your dead cells are revived and you only produce new cells if existing ones are ruined beyond repair. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “What are we looking at here?”

  “Implementing upgrades will most likely result in a fit if you don’t take it easy, like the ones you’ve been having.”

  “If I don’t take it easy?”

  “Your body will need a cool off time of probably a few hours after each upgrade while your immune system assesses it, and integrates it into your body. It’s a side effect of Indigo Reign and the treatment, and I think it’s due to the shock your body went through. I would say it’s permanent.”

  “How do you mean take it easy?”

  Decora shrugged. “I don’t know, just don’t over exert yourself straight after an upgrade or you’ll more than likely trigger a fall or even memory loss.”

  “Can’t you do anything?” asked Rennin.

  Decora shook his head. “We’ve tried clamping it but it’s ghost code that’s causing it so it just reappears somewhere else, and I don’t know why.”

  “Ghost code doesn’t just appear from nowhere,” said Veidan.

  “That’s the other thing,” said Decora taking a breath. “I’m fairly sure it’s originating from your Instinctual Cluster, probably due to the trauma. I’ve been receiving very strange results from your system. Your regenerative condition seems to be tied to your moods.”

  “So as long as I stay really happy I’ll be invincible?” asked Veidan, getting a stifled smirk from Rennin.

  Decora wasn’t taking Veidan’s jibes very well, which was odd because from what Rennin had heard it’s usually the Medtech who’s ruining everyone else’s day with sarcasm. “Full-orga are healthier when happy throughout their lives and it seems to be the same with you. During your recovery, on the days you were more determined your cells healed at an incredibly accelerated rate, and the days you felt like giving up you didn’t progress at all.”

  “Comedies and feel-good movies for you during downtime, is what it means,” said Rennin.

  “I don’t know what it means,” said Decora sternly, eyeing Rennin. “Unlike your kind, our brains are severed from what serves as an immune system.”

  Veidan smiled at Rennin’s comment but faced Decora with a serious expression. “What’s happening to me?”

  Decora shook his head. “I don’t know, Saifer, and there’s nothing I can do.”

  9.

  Outbreak

  Rennin and Carla stand face to face in front of the Antioch Cradle altar, the only Cathedral in Raddocks Horizon. The priest, Eugene Burnley, wraps their hands together with a ribbon. He has just performed the marriage rites with a smile.

&nbs
p; There are a few people in attendance; they are all praying fiercely, absolutely nothing to do with the very last-minute wedding. Rennin tried not to let the desperation of it ruin something the boyish part of him has wanted since childhood.

  Rennin wants Carla to be safe and outside the city. The only way to make that happen is through marriage. They won’t let a mere girlfriend out; marriage is required, or de facto is required at the very least. Briefly, Rennin wonders what happens to the unwed but he decides he doesn’t want to know.

  Carla is dressed in her casual clothes with a rent-a-veil from the Horizon Casino district they picked up on the way. She looks just fine to Rennin who is still in his armour-weave outfit, still with the bullet hole through his anorak. Rennin is tapped on the shoulder by the priest and knocked out of his thoughts. “I said you may kiss the bride, Mister Farrow.”

  Rennin decides to make the most of it. Gripping her firmly, he spins her round dramatically, holding her low for a kiss, just as they used to do in the black and white movies from the 1900s. The priest smirks.

  He isn’t really a priest in the traditional sense. Very few organised religions maintained their original doctrines after the Convergence of 2188, where all religions were drawn together, and the most peaceful influences of all of them were amalgamated in a belief system named Meridian.

  Despite not being a Christian priest, Eugene Burnley still wears the flowing black cassock and brandishes a crucifix around his neck.

  Old habits do die hard.

  “Now, you may sign your names here and here,” Eugene says indicating the applicable points on the paperwork, “and your witness can sign here.” Rennin and Carla sign their names then the watchman turns to Doctor Caufmann, their ‘best man’ and witness.