by J. D. Tew
I listened, fascinated. The battle of Jaakruid, which I had survived and flourished in weeks ago, where we liberated a significant city of Elons on the planet Tritillia. How did they know that Wrath was on Tritillia? But I pushed those thoughts aside.
The impish Armizard continued, ‘I think someone neglected to inform you that you should clean your weapon between battles. We not only restored the gun blade to its original form, but we reinstated its ability to fire tritium phosphoritite and magnesium projectiles. It is now officially once again a gun and blade. We also took your request even further by investigating a certain crown upon your head. We determined through theory that we could program some automated actions into your rolesk, which could be very useful.’
‘Zane deactivated my rolesk, after Jaakruid.’
In a babyish voice, mocking, and ridiculing, Philmai said, ‘Zane deactivated my rolesk. Listen to you! You sound like a halfwit. Our ingenuity goes far beyond the powers of Zane.’
‘Yes we have surpassed him. Sure he has the army of Sepherans, but we are smarter, ha-ha.’ Jetschi was unleashing goofy guffaws. ‘The Dietons will eventually choose their true leader. You cannot program something to be artificially intelligent and then expect it to refrain from choice.’
‘Precisely. Yes, you will not be able to command all of the Dietons, but those Dietons who have assessed your true path may work with you.’
‘I thought the Dietons were not sentient. They only follow the orders of their master.’
‘Not at all!’ Philmai blurted out. ‘Is your friend Lincoln no longer your friend because he is Sepheran? This isn’t Earth, Theodore. We are far more technologically advanced. Our machines are programmed with emotional algorithms that may even someday surpass the complex feelings of organic beings.’
‘The more life-like we make these machines, the more they are deserving of life?’ I asked. ‘What if I choose not to manipulate them, and only lead them?’
‘Then you are a greater being than Zane,’ Philmai said. He told me that with time, he could give my rolesk incomprehensible powers, but if I embraced the Dietons, I could do even better. In fact, I wouldn’t need a rolesk.
Philmai then turned to my other gear, namely the Elon suit that was given to me by the Elons of the planet Tritillia. Like Wrath, it was crucial to winning the battle of Jaakruid. He also lovingly fingered my precious necklace, which I called Megadenom’s Amulet. A rush of emotions swept past my memories. This amulet was what had oriented me toward outer space in the first place, when I was still an awkward pre-teen on Earth, obsessing over bullies every day on my way to school.
Said Jetschi, ‘Megadenom’s Amulet! The power of this majestic artifact is still a mystery to us. Its function is foreign to us. I dub the craftsmanship to be of Karshiz, but ancient. Your amulet is now a part of your Elon suit. We decided that it would be best if we could channel its light and heat through your bracers. So we connected all three. The Elon suit, Sandolphin’s bracers, and Megadenom’s amulet are now one. However, when we modify items, combine them, and advance them, all as one device, we are then given the right of recognition by the law of the Council and the Hall of Armizardians to rename the device. This suit will now be referred to as Piexon armor. You can still refer to it as Elon armor. Also, your Elon suit can now harness the light energy of the amulet. The product of this trifecta? A blinding light that can be harnessed and used by simply thinking out the command.’
‘Yeah!’ piped up Philmai. ‘After the mod and during our first trial, I lost my vision for five minutes, after accidentally subjecting myself to its blinding beam.’
The brothers begged for me to turn over my rolesk and allow them to modify it further. They said that they would forgive me for being an idiot and a bully, and they would entirely separate my rolesk from the laws of Zane that bound it. I was for anything that involved relinquishing Zane’s hold on me and my crew. And I was curious as to why they would so quickly defy Zane.
‘You guys don’t like Zane?’
‘We don’t like many beings, but Zane is a violator of a special code.’
‘What do you mean?’ I asked.
‘In the industry of invention, the mother of all malice lies in manipulation of the people. Anytime technology is used to control the citizens of the galaxy, there is always a mad scientist behind it. He is that scientist. What do you say? Do you wish to do as Zane did, but with your own power?’ Philmai said.
‘We can trust you,’ Jetschi added.
‘Thank you for everything, but no. At least, not in the way you mentioned. I want you to make the rolesk a communication device, powerful enough to override Zane’s communication. Let me be clear. I don’t want to control the Dietons, just communicate with them.’
‘That is commendable. I think we were wrong about you, Theodore,’ Philmai said.
‘You still look like a chimpanzee!’ Jchetski shouted, laughing and holding his tiny belly. I returned to my dorm after handing over my rolesk to the two witty Armizards.
I laid out my gear in my dorm and fiddled with the modifications, partly because I was still a child at heart and there is nothing more intriguing to a teenager than sleek technology supplied by interstellar whizzes. I held Wrath in my hands, desperate for a moment alone with this mighty sword. I was secretly in love with this superior, million-year relic. I had a bond to it, physically and mentally. A connection that only a dedicated soldier can truly appreciate.
I pulled up my sword and ignited the blade with confidence. The power cells emitted a charging glow at the base of the lower receiver, repeating an upward pulsation, the power vibrated through, and then settled as the gun blade found its smooth rhythm. What I held in my hand, was a refurbished and refined version of what originally had been—but now more polished, more powerful, and more highly calibrated.
I held my sword underneath the water dispenser and activated it, while showering the ignited blade of Wrath; steam rose up from the blade.
My crew was not fit to fight, with Dan injured, but over the course of the trip to Zong, Dan would heal quickly from the ingestion of dephlocontis mucilage and the rest of us would have a few hours of rest and relaxation. In Zong, we hoped to find King Trazuline.
After the incidents, ED approached me alone and said, ‘Theodore, how shall we locate King Trazuline?’
I responded thoughtfully, ‘Pritok should have told me of a destination within Zong. He did not, and he is dead. I can only surmise that Trazuline was so jarred by the ambush that he did not have time to inform Pritok of an alternate meeting place.’
‘Then what do we do, Theodore?’
I smiled. ‘I may surprise you, but I do have my own solutions.’
‘And what is that?’
‘Nilo mentioned that the Opposition used teleportation and other means to transport Sepheran refugees. Can you use our ship to analyze Zong for extreme radiation signatures or power usage or something?’
‘I cannot believe I overlooked this. Yes, it’s worth a try.’
“If a robot could smile, I think I had detected a grin on ED as he left.”
17 THEODORE: SEPHERA
Back to reality. After walking over to my prison cell’s vault entry, I sigh, stretching my calves against it, while maintaining a grip of my slate tablet. I am incredibly bored.
What I would give to be out of this prison, commanding Freebird.
After standing, I walk over to the vault and peek through a slit in the view box. I can see a guard pacing back and forth.
My mind was weighted with a metaphysical presence.
Telepathy again? Drey Richerz latches on to my thoughts, inserting his telepathic phrasing. “Prisoner. Are you watching me?” Drey asks.
I think, and therefore my thoughts communicate. It’s a neat trick, and I wonder what planet Drey and his father are from, which allow them to communicate this way; it’s similar to Dacturon ability. “Uh—no,” I thought back to him, “I was just resting my head against the door like an idiot.
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you.” In this prison, insulting myself is a good way out of an awkward situation. It is definitely Drey Richerz; the son of the Premier.
“Hold your tablet up to your face as we communicate. I don’t want to be conspicuous. I know you’re probably thinking you will get out of here alive, Theodore, but there is something going on in the background. Your execution would be beneficial to some, and many who oppose Messiahs are flooding the media with your actions, sensationalizing and making a mockery of you. Don’t think the people will vote in your favor if this smear campaign continues.”
“What! Executed?”
“Relax, Theodore. The warden is monitoring your vitals; I implore you to calm down.”
“What about my crew?” I asked.
“Mariah was just released. Dan is in a low-level security of the prison and will be released within the week. The Council is forgiving them for their allegiance to you, saying that they have suffered enough for their loyalty. Nilo, ED, and Liam are unaccounted for, but you know as well as I do that it would take more than a savvy Rangier illusionist, a quirky robot, and a quiet brute to save you.”
“Why are you helping me? How do you know about all of this?”
“It’s common knowledge when you’re the son of the Premier. Helping you? There is no helping you beyond this. I need to preserve my position and see this through to the end.”
“Why do you care, then?”
“Let’s just say, I know what the hole is like, because my own father put me there for a week. Do you have any idea how embarrassing that is, to be a prisoner in the institution you’re working at? My father has always treated me this way, and I have had my fill. His indiscretions just add to my hatred for him. If for some reason helping you, will help me bring down my father, you’ll know, because more than likely I’ll do almost anything to piss off the paper Premier.”
“How can I trust you?” I ask.
Drey physically shouts, “Prisoner, get back to work in there!” With one last telepathic message, he says, “You can’t. If you have something up your sleeve, I suggest you use it. Time is running out for you...” Then he physically shouts again, “...Get back to it!”
I retreat from the door, and stand with my back to the wall. Turning over thoughts in my mind, I count all of my allies.
Mariah, just released. The king, definitely not in here, because Drey didn’t even mention him. Dan is here somewhere. ED and Liam are on the outside.
Lincoln has escaped. Wow. That was a huge, colossal, mind-blowing and idiotic mistake of the warden. Could Drey be the undesirable operative that Pritok mentioned three years ago? No way!
“Prisoner, per the warden’s ruling you must continue your account, without stopping, as you were already commanded!”
“Yes. I apologize. I will continue right away, sir.” Continuing right away is easier to say than do, as I am now wondering if I may be able to manipulate this rookie guard to my benefit. From my perspective, the Premier’s son could be a valuable ally, thus spiriting me away from this unbearable prison. This is huge!
The Council wants me dead? What would make a father’s son hate him so deeply?
There is not a moment to waste.
I consider taking things into my own hands. “But what can I do?” I ask aloud. Oops!
“I can tell you what to do, prisoner! Start recording or do I need to hail the warden?”
“No sir!” It seems Richerz, the rookie, is enjoying this, feeding me some info and watching me squirm. I activate the tablet’s recorder by sliding my finger, and then continue my account.
I inhale deeply and start.
“Never let the situation you’re currently in, dictate the next. I had to face it. My next two moves would be difficult without the King’s involvement, as everything hinged on finding him in Zong.”
Using Freebird’s inboard scanner, ED was able to locate a large radiation signature in the city of Zong, down to the exact coordinates. This radiation signature was characteristic only of Urilian technology. I was excited at this discovery. Then, after tapping the ship’s archives, ED found a map of Zong and identified the signature within a warehouse, not too far from the entry to Zong.
After our three-hour meandering flight through the enormous tunnels that ran under the tectonic ice plates, my team and I arrived at Zong. The city of Zong was similar to Booyang, but on a much smaller scale; it was developing with hopes of one day matching Booyang’s size. It was mainly known for its gambling sectors and nitrous oxide bars, where folks would congregate, huff nitrous oxide, and bet on fights.
I decided to take ED with me, only, because I wanted the others to pull security on Freebird in Zong’s docking bay; Freebird’s worth was accumulating at a rate commensurate to our ever-increasing involvement—our mission continued to attract greater scrutiny, as we were seen as more of a threat each passing day. My crew reluctantly accepted the order to stay back.
While the others prepped for our next mission, ED and I left to find the king. We had a direct path to the warehouse in question, and as we walked ED extracted samples from the air and ice shards in the area to establish his findings.
‘What is it, ED?’ I asked.
‘Interesting... this is the location of the radiation signature, correct?’
‘Yes. It’s just a small warehouse.’
‘Theodore, after testing the ice shards in the area, I am finding trace amounts of astatine. It is an unstable substance used for altering space anomalies, like wormholes or teleportholes.’ Sounds like the right spot!
‘Someone’s coming,’ I say. We assumed a defensive stance, as this person exited the warehouse, wearing a hooded garb that was draped over his identifying features. Within striking distance of our location, the being lifted the hood to reveal his identity.
‘Trazuline!’ I shouted, shoving ED aside and tackling the King with joy.
‘Whoa! Incredible grasp! You are much stronger than I recall.’ The king held me out at his arm’s length, grasping each of my shoulders with his hands. ‘It’s time we drop the charade, isn’t it ED? Theodore, I have been using this ED as a mode of communication with you. He has been my personal ED for many years.’
A wave of shock rushed throughout my body from the revelation, but it was soon forgiven. ‘That explains our lack of communication.’ I gave ED a nasty look.
‘I am sorry, Theodore. I didn’t want you trying to request information from me that I wasn’t at liberty to divulge,’ ED said.
King Trazuline looked at me, like a proud coach, and said, ‘You are in a small subdivision of Zong. It’s a warehouse, used for making garments. Please, come inside.’
‘It would be my pleasure!’ I said, glowing from the confidence I earned by finding Trazuline.
We entered into the warehouse. Rangier men and women, as well as some newly emigrated natives of Karshiz, were fabricating garments, diligently working. I was impressed, but was even more surprised when Trazuline took me to a deserted side room and activated a seam-sealing machine on a long sturdy table, and this table slid across the floor. After the table shifted, a trapdoor automatically opened, revealing a dark staircase leading downstairs.
‘This way. I knew that you would make it to Foita. Theodore, things are going to become a bit unpredictable. But more than anything, I am glad to see you... and impressed. Wow! Members of the Opposition won’t doubt me anymore. I can’t wait to inform Pritok.’
‘Sire,’ I said, sullen with sadness from the loss of Pritok. Apparently there was no communication between the two Opposition strongholds. I told Trazuline the full story of what had happened in Booyang yesterday.
‘What! No.’ King Trazuline looked away, with his back to me. ‘Pritok! He was such an able commander. I don’t know how I’m going to notify his wife and children.’
‘ I know, sire,’ I said. I didn’t know what to say. The king exhaled a long deep breath, and turned to me. ‘Thank you, Ted,’ he said, appearing shaken and
devastated. ‘They destroyed Tamara? My ancient stronghold. She stood long before the Rangiers and Council were even established. No wonder the second drone that I deployed was lost.’
He turned to me with his eyes widened by the fear of the inward pressure from Odion, the Council, and Zane. ‘We don’t have much time. It’s happening. The Council, Zane and the Urilians, even the Dacturons may all converge here.’ He was shaking his head, and he laid a hand on my shoulder. ‘Theodore, I am going to agree to help you go to Sephera, as per your wishes. But only you can go. Your discovery there may indeed help us win, so we’re depending on you.’
‘Thank you, sire,’ I said with huge relief. I’m going to see Lincoln, at last—and soon. ‘What about my crew, though?’ I asked.
‘Your friends are safe and being watched over by my elite forces.’
‘Thanks.’
‘ED told me that you thought of finding me by locating my radiation anomalies! Impressive! Anyway, let’s get down to planning your trip to Sephera. I respect your wishes to find Lincoln and will be surprised further if you can convince him to leave. There is a chance that he will not remember you, nor care about you or your mission. And I would be a fool if I told you a mission with this profile is going to be safe. We will teleport you, but you will indeed do something in return for the Opposition—a high profile mission. One that you will complete as payment of a debt you owe to me for facilitating your transport to Sephera. This future mission, will be much more dangerous than anything you and your crew have experienced thus far.’
‘Definitely, I will do it. But what is it? C’mon. I’m dying here. Give me something.’
‘Because of operational security. I would rather not speak of it fully, yet.’
‘Aren’t the Dietons listening now?’
‘We are in a portable stalbrux chamber, which, essentially is generated by that device there.’ The device was in the center of the room, quietly humming, whirring, and glowing neon green. ‘This room is free of Dieton presence. Additionally, informing you of any mission details would mean the secrecy leaves this chamber with you, and I cannot risk it, as the mission is still in development. Theodore, your visit to Eppa relies on your mission to Sephera.’