A. Warren Merkey

by Far Freedom

  Alex was the Questioner, Setek-Ren the Torturer, Koji the Executioner. The oral history of succeeding generations of barbarians made them mythological figures, based on scores of bloody encounters over the span of two centuries.

  The audience had their villain, whether they believed his claim or not. The Black Fleet officers had to defeat him and win the day. The plot was almost like professional wrestling on the old TV, but this was no fake sport. A flood of requests by Fleet officers to fight Alex poured in. While the games managers worked in the background to take advantage of the interesting change in the plot of things, the death matches resumed.

  Junior Fleet officers slaughtered each other. I wondered how many other places like Oz were staging such atrocities. It was easy to feel outrage, even knowing human history was filled with worse violence. The “civilized” Romans staged battles in the Coliseum that were comparable in body counts to this. Why was it still happening? Evolution was too damned slow - assuming we were evolving in the right direction.

  Alex and a Black Fleet officer walked from opposite sides of the field of combat and met in the center. Six other pairs of Fleet officers fought to the death around them. The man Alex faced exhibited no signs of previous injury - a clue to his level of expertise.

  As the fight began, the opponent demonstrated - to my inexpert eye - a familiarity with some formal discipline of personal combat. He never laid a finger on Alex, but he looked good doing it. He was quick. Alex was quicker. He attacked Alex with growing impatience. Alex anticipated every move. It was only a short time before the barbarian made a mistake that could have cost him his life. Alex knocked him unconscious, knelt down to check his pulse, and left him. That made the crowd rumble again.

  Alex moved to the side of the arena as managers dragged his opponent from the field of combat. On the other side of the stadium three Fleet officers in black fighting garb emerged onto the field. From a nearby exit a tall figure in gray walked. The crowd noise surged, covering the announcer’s introductions. I saw Zakiya react, so I knew it was her son Petros - Admiral Etrhnk.

  Managers flanked Alex but didn’t move him forward into the combat area. Etrhnk and the three men in black were escorted by other managers into the center. Quiet fell over the audiences and the announcer explained that Etrhnk would fight three Fleet officers at once. Because he was under sentence of death and because he demonstrated extreme ability to fight, it was not considered a dishonorable match for the three Fleet officers. I wondered how many of the thirty-two men Etrhnk killed in previous games felt so honorable, facing Etrhnk after he already fought so many others in the same day.

  I can’t explain how Etrhnk fought. With Alex I could sense there was a discipline, even if I couldn’t describe it. Etrhnk didn’t seem to require a method.

  His three opponents didn’t coordinate their actions well. Etrhnk simply awaited opportunities as his circling adversaries experimented with an unfamiliar situation. He killed one of the three, almost too suddenly to observe how he did it. The remaining two became more patient. They tried to tire Etrhnk by alternating feinted attacks and forcing him to divide his attention between them. The crowd became restless. The two opponents must have lost their concentration, however slightly, because of the crowd’s mood. Etrhnk became the aggressor and the combat discipline of the Fleet officers fell apart. He didn’t kill them immediately but injured them. It was easy for Etrhnk to finish them after that.

  This is more detail than I wanted to provide. It’s possible for the gentlest of persons to be mesmerized by the sickest violence. I was so caught up in it that I never noticed that Jessie was watching it, too, perhaps even gratified that so many bad guys were dying. She had learned to hate: a key step in becoming more human.

  I didn’t expect Alex and Etrhnk to meet in combat anytime soon, if ever. Perhaps the games managers, being experts in judging combat skills, saw that the two were better than any other fighters they could produce. They announced that the Questioner would fight Etrhnk as the final bout of the games, if both survived until then. How many more teams of barbarians would each fight? How many per team? Four, five, six? It seemed to me the games could easily go on for days. Millions of barbarians called this little world home. I was ready for it to be over.

  “Now,” Zakiya said. She said it so calmly, I almost forgot what it meant.

  We stood up and I motioned to White Bridge to join us. Our own barbarian jumpship popped into existence in the middle of the holographic display. In the next instant we were inside it, in the transmat node. Zakiya rushed into the control room to assist Khalanov.

  While the games stadium was shielded from transmat probing, nothing could stop a jumpship or a gate. We had produced gate coordinates by physically surveying the route to the games. We jumped into the games stadium with enough precision to avert casualties. We were close to Alex and he was at the ramp as soon as we deployed it. He stayed at the foot of the ramp to look for his son. I stepped out and saw Etrhnk surrounded by games managers and a number of Fleet officers in fighting dress. Khalanov pushed past me and walked down the ramp. He walked into the open with Alex following him. Khalanov conferred briefly with Alex, then Alex walked in front of him. Khalanov held his cryptikon up. Setek-Ren and Koji appeared next to Alex.

  “I am the Questioner,” Alex shouted. “These are the Torturer and the Executioner. Admiral Etrhnk is ours. Stand aside and let him come to us.”

  When no one obliged Alex, Koji drew out his sword and started toward the group of men surrounding Etrhnk.

  It was never clear to me the boundary of what was possible with the cryptikon. From personal experience I knew that one could manipulate objects at the visited location. What I didn’t know was whether you could be harmed by the people you were visiting. Koji’s sword looked real and lethal but what would happen if a barbarian decided to shoot him?

  A barbarian did shoot Koji. It didn’t harm him. Koji, however, was able to make his sword felt by the barbarians. He didn’t seriously hurt anyone, striking people with the flat side of the blade. He waded into them toward Etrhnk, making them move aside, until Etrhnk had a path to the jumpship.

  Etrhnk hesitated. “Come!” Koji urged, grabbing him by the shirt and yanking.

  He came, following Koji. No one stopped him. I supposed the barbarians would turn the event into a great story, with their own explanations for what happened. It amazed me that they offered so little argument, almost as if they didn’t believe what was happening. Perhaps they thought we were there to do something terrible to Etrhnk. Perhaps they were waiting to see what that was.

  Khalanov put away his cryptikon as Etrhnk came close to him. Setek-Ren and Koji disappeared. Alex took Etrhnk by the arm and urged him to move faster. Khalanov put himself between those two and the group of barbarians behind them. At this point it became clear to the barbarians that we were not there to harm Etrhnk, at least not in their presence. When the first shots made their popping noises, I sprinted down the ramp to take a guarding position with my own d-field. Zakiya came with me.

  More barbarians opened fire with their noisy weapons. Was everyone in the seats of the stadium armed? Our d-fields absorbed the kinetic energy of the slugs. Perhaps the sensation was similar to being caught in a hailstorm, wrapped in padding. Because of the distance, the slugs had less energy and accuracy, but Alex and Etrhnk could still be struck by lucky shots.

  Etrhnk stumbled and Alex and Zakiya caught him and helped him up the ramp. I drew my pistol and fired at the nearest pursuing barbarians. Khalanov went down and I almost fell over him at the ramp. His d-field had failed. I dragged him up the ramp as the ramp started to rise under us. I knelt beside Khalanov and continued to fire until we both rolled into the safety of the ship. Slugs ricocheted from interior bulkheads but my stunned ears couldn’t hear them. The hatch pulled shut.

  Splatters of red dotted the gray deck. Etrhnk lay prone and Alex knelt over him, probing for his wounds. White Bridge brought medical supplies and started cutting a
way Etrhnk’s clothing. Alex had at least one bullet hole in him but seemed unaware of it. Khalanov groaned next to me. I rolled him over and saw a frown of pain on his face, blood on his khaki shirt.

  Jessie crowded into the airlock, bringing medical devices. She departed quickly to the control room to initiate a second jump. We had already departed Oz. I hoped the thunderclap caused by the collapsing hole we left blasted the barbarians in the enclosed stadium. A vacuum sphere of jumpship size should have rocked the place.

  In a few moments Alex and Zakiya attached an instrument to Etrhnk. There were only two machines and Alex waved off treatment until after Khalanov was treated.

  I sat with my back against the hatch, unable to cross to the center passageway and relieve the crowding in the small airlock. They finished with Khalanov and propped him up beside me with the automedic locked to his bare chest. He was breathing heavily but he looked at me and smiled. “Thank you, Sam.”

  “My pleasure, Admiral.”

  “Call me Iggy!”

  Slowly and carefully the automedics inserted their tendrils into Etrhnk and Iggy. The tendrils found the slugs and turned them into a liquid that was extracted. The tendrils cleaned the wound channels and knitted them closed at

  the cellular level. Iggy recovered first and gave up his automedic to Alex. Etrhnk had more serious wounds. We carried him to his parent’s quarters and put him on their bed. When the automedic finished its treatment of him, Etrhnk didn’t wake up. Zakiya sat with him, waiting.

  It was a small ship. When Etrhnk awoke, it was difficult to give him the privacy he may have wanted. Alex and Zakiya didn’t seem to mind that the rest of us lingered in the short companionway, listening to what they said.

  “Do you know who I am?” Zakiya asked.

  ” You’re my mother.”

  “Do you remember everything now?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You had memories that you didn’t know you had. You remember them now.”

  “I remember nothing.”

  “But you know I’m your mother.”

  “I never understood why I acted with such restraint toward you. You fascinated me. When I kidnapped the child, when I caused you to come for him, I simply wanted to see you, hoping…”

  “Hoping for what?”

  “…to understand. But the Golden Ones interfered. Pan told me later you were my mother. Neither did he remember why that was so. We pondered the mystery for a long time. We knew you were going to search for your husband. It seemed impossible. Pan said you would eventually remember me and would come for me. If you could. I am amazed you are here.”

  “I didn’t know you were my son! I barely knew I had a son. I only just remembered I had a daughter, and a husband.”

  “Why didn’t you remember?”

  “It was dangerous to remember such things, until it was necessary to remember. It was an imperfect strategy that has caused us many problems. We know you have the same secret memory storage device. It’s still locked. Also, you were poisoned by some agent that changed your basic personality. We didn’t give you the antidote. None of us remembered you or remembered the antidote. You were our most forbidden secret.”

  Etrhnk absorbed this information without much reaction. “Pan theorized that something had gone wrong. Why do I exist?”

  “For the same reason I had your sister. Because I was lonely.”

  “Why did you discard me?”

  “I didn’t! Yes, I did. I couldn’t keep you. You were taken from me. You were only an infant.”

  “Why?”

  “I had to become someone else, someone who couldn’t safely raise a child.”

  “Who raised me?”

  “Aylis Mnro.”

  “No! Don’t tell me that!”

  ” You were a wonderful son to her. You don’t know how much she needed you or how terrible she felt for taking you and using you. We are trying to forgive you for what you did to Aylis. She is trying to survive the guilt for what she did to you. You have a daughter now. I have a granddaughter.”

  “I have a daughter? I don’t know why… I should not have… I had a powerful feeling for Doctor Mnro. I couldn’t define the feeling. Perhaps it was both love and hate.”

  “Aylis thinks she threatened you, telling you Jamie or I would go in your

  place, to become a spy in the ranks of the barbarians.”

  “How noble of me,” Etrhnk said, the tone of his voice inverting the meaning. “It was still an act devoid of morality. The poison merely prolonged the will to do evil in the name of righteousness.”

  “We’ve all done evil, Son,” Alex said. “You are no worse than your mother and I.”

  “You are my father?” Etrhnk asked. “You are Alexandros Gerakis? And you are the Questioner?”

  “Yes. Your mother found me.”

  Etrhnk stared at his parents for many moments. I could imagine what he might be thinking and feeling. What I was feeling was not far short of despair. I had not understood until now the sacrifice Etrhnk had made, unknown even to himself. This should have been the most joyous moment in his life. Instead, it was a moment of guilt and shame. I thought Zakiya was about to weep.

  “Let me find some small place to be alone,” Etrhnk finally said. “I am not fit company.”

  It was hoped that contact with Alex or Zakiya would allow Etrhnk access to the memories Aylis Mnro hid from him. That didn’t appear to happen. He kept to himself, perhaps trying to will the memories to come, perhaps the opposite. Everyone else was waiting for something to happen to him. I almost wanted to cry every time I saw him. How I could feel so much empathy for him, I didn’t understand. Perhaps there was some faint echo of Karl Moses in the shape of his face. Perhaps I wanted to believe too much that he was deserving of the love that Zakiya obviously wanted to give him.

  “Sorry to disturb you, sir,” I said. “They sent me to fetch you out of here. We’re going to jump soon. Khalanov says it may not be safe where you’re at.”

  “You have a quaint accent,” Etrhnk responded. “You sound like - ” He stopped, perhaps not wanting to say “barbarian.” English was such a dynamic and mutable language, yet “Twenglish” and barbarian English still sounded quite similar after seven hundred years.

  It surprised me that the former Ruler of the Known Universe would choose to say so many words to me. “Apparently I originate from nearly the same place and time,” I replied. “20th-century America.”

  Etrhnk floated out from one of the niches in the waste-recycling plumbing. “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “My name is Samuel Lee. I was born in Seattle, Washington in the United States of America in the year 1952.”

  “How can you be seven hundred thirty-five years old?”

  “They haven’t introduced you to me and Jessie.”

  “I was curious but did not feel privileged to ask.”

  “You are more privileged than you know. I’m Jessie’s husband.”

  “The strange lady is your wife?”

  “Yes. My strange wife. My alien wife. We’re the parents of a baby.”

  “Alien? Not human? Her eyes. I thought I was imagining them. Blue. Too large. I see them everywhere! I lost her!” I was startled at Etrhnk’s words. I couldn’t think of what to say. He looked away from me. In those few seconds, until he turned to look at me again, the physical and emotional reality of Admiral Etrhnk became necessary to me, turning him into Petros, Zakiya’s lost son. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I also knew an alien, with those same eyes, and I cared for her. Your information is difficult for me to process. First you tell me you are extremely old. Then you tell me your wife is not human. Please, continue. What is she?”

  “She’s of a race who call themselves Servants. You call them the Golden Ones.”

  Petros was shocked. He didn’t look like someone who would be shocked at anything, especially considering his history. “She cannot be a Golden One!” This burst of emotion from Etrhnk seemed painfully emit
ted. I could sense it was an important thing to him.

  ” She is not known to them but she is one of them.”

  “Golden Ones may appear as male or female but they have no real gender. They can’t conceive and produce offspring.”

  “Incorrect. They can adapt to humans, and adapt humans to themselves. That’s how I lived to be this old. They’re a magical species.”

  Etrhnk was struck dumb, briefly. “That might explain Constant.”

  “I’ve heard of her. Explain what about Constant?”

  ” She remained concerned for me, even after it was clear that I was a traitor to them.”

  “What do you know about the Golden Ones?”

  “They guard She Who Must Not Be Named. She guards them. They probably created her and they rule all of humanity through her. Jessie became pregnant?”

  “I helped a little. Aylis saved Jessie’s life by helping her give birth.”

  “Aylis Mnro?”

  “Would you like to hear the whole story? You should know that I’m responsible for everything that has happened to you and to all the others.” I told him the story. Long before I finished the story an audience gathered in the companionway. They had heard it all before. The attraction was that Petros was conversing with me, asking me questions, apparently becoming more normal.

  Petros floated up to the gravity meniscus and addressed Alex and Zakiya. “To what place do we jump?”

  “The Freedom,” Zakiya replied. “I think we need to take you to Aylis.”

  “No. Jump to Earth System. Then get rid of this ship. The Lady can monitor every Black Fleet ship. It’s only a matter of time before she notices this one. She can destroy it if she perceives a threat.”

  “We searched for any kind of device that could identify individual jumpships,” Iggy said. “Other than the short-range transponders, we found nothing.”

  “Please, do as I ask. Take no chances.”