Shadows of Olympus (Universe in Flames Book 6)

by Christian Kallias

  She switched to lasso mode and paralyzed him. She then went with him to the brig, where she recovered Tanarok and swapped him for the commander.

  “What are you doing? You can’t leave me in here!”

  “You should have thought about that before ordering your men to fire at us.”

  “I couldn’t take the chance that you might have doctored that holo-transmission.”

  “Wasn’t it encrypted? With a cypher only you and your men are privy to?”

  “It was but—”

  “Then there’s no but. You decided to be paranoid on your own, and you cost my teammates their lives. Just count your blessings that I’m in a hurry and can’t spare the time to properly repay you for your overzealous attitude. So long, Commander.”

  Ryonna could still hear the Zarlack shouting when she left the brig with Tanarok.

  “What will happen to the commander?” Tanarok asked.

  “He’s lucky I don’t have time to punish him. You don’t want to try my patience either.”

  “Look, I don’t know who you are or what you want—”

  “Let me stop you right here, Tanarok. Argos told me to come and pick you up. He needs your help to stop a Fury from aging too fast.”

  “I don’t know anything about Fury physiology. I don’t understand why Argos thinks I can be of any help.”

  Ryonna didn’t like the sound of that. But this had been a trying day. She was not in the mood to babysit or reassure this lizard that Argos knew what he was doing. And he’d better know, or there would be hell to pay.

  “Look, you’re some sort of biologist, right?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Then Argos needs you to work with him on a project. That’s all you need to trouble yourself with at this point. I don’t want to hear another peep out of you besides answering my questions. Is that clear?”

  The Zarlack nodded.

  “Now, where might we find Argos’ Kyrian snake clone?”

  “In his ready room. But I’m not allowed there.”

  “I’m granting you permission. Now lead the way, scales.”

  * * *

  Spiros and Cedric arrived at the nearest Alliance’s hospital. It wasn’t the kind of place they wanted to work in or stay at for too long, but they had no choice. Spiros had requisitioned a few servers from the facility and was restoring Gaia’s higher neuronal functions into them.

  He hoped he would be on time to change the next cypher. The last thing they needed was Gaia 2 disabling the shields. Gaia had left her comms open when she fought her beta version, and Spiros had heard what she had in store for Earth.

  “Do you think we’ll be on time?” asked Cedric nervously.

  “We have to be. I’m hoping the battle bought us some time.”

  “Why are you saying this?”

  “Because the cypher’s estimated lifetime expired three minutes ago and I’m only at seventy-two percent of the restore procedure.”

  Cedric buried his head in his hands. “We’re fucked.”

  “None of that. We can’t sink into despair, not now. Not ever, actually. Because even if we survive this crisis, do I have to remind you that there is an entire planet of crazed Furies ready to blow us to kingdom come the first chance they get?”

  “I wish I had packed weed.”

  Spiros smiled from ear to ear.

  “What?”

  “This is a hospital, Cedric. Perhaps you should ask a nurse to provide you with medicinal marijuana?”

  “Right! You’re sure you don’t mind?”

  “No, just . . . just go. I don’t need your help restoring Gaia’s neuronal net anyway.”

  Cedric was gone before Spiros could say anything else. He could use the time alone. He had to start injecting the necessary code into Gaia’s restored matrix for his plan to work. He would manage that better if he wasn’t interrupted every five minutes.

  He could also use a jay, but not before he was done with the cypher and the code injection. He really hoped that Gaia’s sacrifice had bought them enough time to do the necessary work from here. Gaia had sent a final message before self-destructing, informing him that she was sending more battle bots to this location so he could reprogram them with her latest higher functions. They had decided that the safest way to create new avatars for her was manually, from an encrypted version of her latest code. She had added many layers of firewall and a new rotating cypher algorithm based on a 65536 bits root random value Spiros had chosen, so Gaia 2 could not guess. Cracking it would take some time, thanks to the cypher-cycling function.

  The bots should arrive soon. And if they didn’t then it meant something went terribly wrong. It didn’t help that her very last words were interrupted mid-sentence. “I lo—” was all he received. Still, he didn’t need the rest of the characters to decipher that one.

  A trio of beeps snapped Spiros out of his train of thought. The restore procedure was complete. He now had to network with many other computers throughout the world to decompress the data. The entire server farm of this hospital would require hours at this task and they couldn’t afford to wait that long.

  Cedric could probably have helped with that task as he was more proficient with Earth’s IT systems. Interfacing and hacking them was not a very difficult task for Spiros. But he would achieve faster results if he used his own neuronal implants.

  He connected the data cable to his neck port and went to connect the other end to the data port of the Alliance’s console. He stopped and hesitated for a moment.

  What if Gaia 2 has already hacked the Alliance systems?

  If so, he could give her a unique and dangerous opportunity to hack his own brain augments. His memories were stored in his biological brain so there was little risk of her acquiring them. But could he take the chance?

  He received a wireless transmission on his neuronal interface. The empty battle bots were ten minutes out. He needed to be done with both the decompression and code injection by then, and there was no way he would achieve that with a slow holo-interface. He needed his mental augments, and probably would have to overclock them too, but this time within reasonable limits. He could not afford an overload the likes of which he had suffered back on Damocles-3 Station.

  Spiros took a deep breath and plugged the other end of the cable into the data port.

  A quick message appeared in front of his eyes before he felt a powerful jolt of electricity burst through his head.

  The message had read: “There you are!”

  C H A P T E R

  XIV

  Sarah was pacing nervously in Chase’s ready room, trying to think of a way to go in pursuit of the Zarlack ship. If Miseo was on board, this place had to be important. They couldn’t let the Furies get to the Asgardians first. It could have catastrophic repercussions.

  Chris entered the room. “Is everything okay?”

  “I needed time to think. We have to find a way to go after that ship.”

  “It’s out of our hands right now. Unless we’re ready to be transformed into a lifeless ship for all eternity.”

  “I know, son, I know.”

  “I have faith in Yanis. From what Dad told me, he always comes through for us. We just need to give him more time.”

  Time. That was the one commodity they didn’t have. But Chris was right. Trying to pursue that ship without some sort of protection wasn’t a viable option. Unless . . . .

  Sarah’s face lit up.

  “What did you just think of?” said Chris.

  “We have a pretty good idea of the distance and vector from which the weapon was firing, right?”

  “We do now. And if you’re thinking of jumping past that point with the ship, we can’t be sure that the weapon won’t still fire at us. And this could be just one of the weapons defending this system. It’s too big a risk, I’m afraid.”

  “We can reduce the risk, Chris, don’t you see?”

  “How?”

  “We use a StarFury. We jump far ahead
towards the vector the Zarlacks took, and telemetry will tell us soon enough if it gets fired upon.”

  “Huh. This could work.”

  “Let’s do it.”

  On the bridge they explained their idea to Daniel.

  “Sounds good. We still have more than enough StarFuries in the launch bays to make multiple tests,” said Daniel.

  “The fewer ships we lose the better, but we have to go after that ship. Whatever it came to get, we can’t allow it to leave this place with it.”

  “Agreed,” answered Daniel.

  “I’m already remote-flying a StarFury. Entering coordinates for the jump now.”

  Sarah held her breath. A few seconds later they received telemetry.

  “On screen.”

  The StarFury had jumped a few thousand klicks beyond the theoretical range of the weapon. For now it wasn’t under fire, and it had already picked up the Zarlack ship on long-range sensors.

  “What’s this?” Sarah pointed at the radar image.

  “Looks like a small planetoid. The Zarlacks are attacking it, but automated defenses are giving it a run for its money,” answered Daniel.

  “We have to jump in there too,” said Sarah. “If we can either chase away the Zarlacks or destroy them altogether, whoever is on that planetoid might actually be thankful. Let’s hope we’re right and some Asgardian is in need of our help.”

  “I’m already bringing my StarFury into an intercept course.”

  “Chris, you’re going to lose that ship for nothing,” interjected Sarah.

  “Yes, but if I can overload its power source and crash it against their shields, it will slow them down. I don’t think the planetoid’s defenses will hold for much longer.”

  “I can confirm that. They’ll be overrun in less than a minute,” said Daniel.

  “Very well, Chris, make it so. Daniel, plot a course and jump the Hope right away. The second we exit hyperspace, raise shields and engage the enemy with everything we’ve got.”

  Daniel smiled at her. “Aye aye, Captain!”

  He entered the coordinates and the Hope micro-jumped into hyperspace.

  * * *

  Saroudis was getting full. Dinner had been long and with many courses, most of them delicious, though he had no idea what he ate most of the time.

  At first he wanted to ask the emperor about the food, but he decided that the new trust and understanding they seemed to have brokered here today was worth it, even if it meant he ate insects or worse. The food had been flavorful and the dessert was just arriving.

  “You really shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble, Altair.”

  “It’s not every day I have such an honored guest, Adonis. And how often can two leaders actually sit and share a meal, in hope of solidifying a friendship that will, I hope, last for thousands of years to come?”

  Hearing the emperor speak of long-lasting peace still baffled Saroudis. But he could not sense any deception in the emperor’s intentions and he was usually a good judge of character. However, he remembered how blind he had been to the fact that Admiral Thassos had been a clone and puppet doing Argos’ bidding.

  It was too soon to openly trust the Obsidian Empire, but Saroudis was more than willing to give them the benefit of the doubt and, in time, would be proud to call them friends, when that trust had been earned.

  “All too true, Altair. And I’m really grateful we have this opportunity. Please don’t get me wrong, but I have to admit I’m surprised to hear you talk of peace so vehemently. No offense.”

  “None taken. When I was rotting in one of your cells on Earth, I had plenty of time to reflect on the many, many mistakes I have made during my rule. I want to leave a legacy for my people, not regrets, death and ashes. And we stand a better chance of achieving that legacy if we unite than by staying divided. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “You’re preaching to the choir.”

  “I’m not familiar with this expression,” said the emperor, raising an eyebrow, lifting some of his facial tattoos along the way.

  “It’s an Earth expression. It means I couldn’t agree more.”

  “I see. I’m glad to hear it. Ah, dessert. This is my favorite part of the meal.”

  “Isn’t it always? I hope I have room for it, though. While the food was delicious—and please congratulate the chef for me—I do hope I still have room for dessert.”

  “When you taste it I’m sure you will. It’s my favorite.”

  An Obsidian soldier-turned-waiter for the occasion brought two bowls of ice cream.

  “The aroma of this ice cream derives from the sap of a tree in my homeworld. Every time I have this it reminds me of a simpler time when I was a kid, with no worries, no fears. Isn’t it paradoxical that when we are kids all we want to do is grow up? Be like our parents or like our older siblings? But when we get there, life has a way of throwing problems at us faster than we can deal with them. I would give anything for the bliss of being a young boy running in the purple grassfields of my homeworld, with not a care in the world. I would eat when food was ready, sleep when it was time; but when my head hit the pillow, sleep would embrace me like a warm blanket, and the next day would be filled with the discovery of another set of worry-free wonders.”

  Saroudis knew exactly what the emperor meant. He had thought about this many times. To this day he would be willing to trade it all and go back to that blissful time. To be a young child again, discovering the world at every turn with bewildered eyes, never worrying about tomorrow.

  “I’m looking forward to trying this,” said Saroudis before taking a spoonful of the melting dessert.

  The flavor was strong and reminded Saroudis of an Alpha Prime syrup his grandmother used to make. It brought tears to his eyes.

  “Is everything alright, Adonis?” asked the emperor.

  “I . . . I know this taste. We have something very similar in our world. It just brought back memories of my childhood.”

  But then it brought another set of memories, much less pleasant. A few days before his mother died, she had visited them in their lake house, and had brought the syrup with her. It was the last time he had the beverage and the last time his sons had it too. They had finished the bottle in less than an hour and Saroudis had been angry at them for it.

  He couldn’t control the flow of overwhelming emotions. His eyes watered and burned. He missed his sons terribly. With everything that had happened lately, he hadn’t had time to properly grieve after the news of their passing. Even if Saroudis had prepared himself for the worst when they had jumped away from Star Alliance space and arrived in Earth space, he had still harbored the faint hope that one day he might see them again. His wife and daughter had survived, but he had lost both his boys. And the taste in his mouth sent him back to that time when they were just young devils playing tricks on one another and everyone around them.

  The emperor gestured the waiter to leave the ready room. He rose and walked towards Saroudis, then knelt before him and talked in a soft voice.

  “I didn’t mean to bring back sad memories. I’m sorry, Adonis.”

  “It’s . . .” But Saroudis was sobbing. “My sons . . . I . . . it reminded me of my sons.”

  The look in the emperor’s eyes told Saroudis that he understood. “They died in the attack on your planet, didn’t they?”

  Saroudis simply couldn’t find the strength to answer, trapped in a moment of intense sadness the likes of which he hadn’t experienced in years. Since the passing of his own father, in fact. So he nodded instead, trying futilely to wipe away tears, but they were instantly replaced by fresh ones.

  The emperor took a dagger from one of his heels and it startled Saroudis.

  What is he doing?

  His heart rate jumped. But he was afraid for no reason. The emperor turned the blade and presented the handle to Saroudis.

  “This blade has been in my family for countless generations. It’s my most prized possession. I have killed many warriors with it in b
attle. But I realize now that some of my actions have killed many, many innocent people, like your sons.”

  There was deep sadness in the emperor’s eyes.

  “Their blood and the blood of many is on my hands. No matter how much I want to atone for my actions, I can never be forgiven, and I don’t even seek your forgiveness.”

  The emperor’s confession resulted in a shot of adrenaline through Saroudis. What was happening? Saroudis wiped his eyes. “Where are you going with this, Emperor?”

  Saroudis harbored hatred for the empire for the death of many friends and family members. He hated war in general. But he had always been a soldier. That’s what it meant to fight for one’s world. No one man was responsible. Or was he?

  “Take this blade, and you have my permission to avenge your boys with it.” He turned towards a holo-recording device embedded on the wall. “I am exercising the ancestral ritual of the father’s debt. This man is not to be prosecuted for his actions. I give my life to him of my own free will and, to respect my honor, I ask that my second-in-command keeps this Alliance of ours strong. Not only today but tomorrow, and for as long as possible.”

  The emperor brought the handle of the dagger closer to Saroudis.

  Saroudis didn’t know why, but he took the blade and looked at it. He saw his sad reflection shimmer on the surface of the blade, his eyes red.

  Could he really take the emperor’s life to avenge his sons? Especially when the man in front of him was willingly asking him to? For a brief instant he considered it, but then shame quickly replaced that fleeting moment of weakness.

  “I can’t kill you, Emperor. You didn’t kill my sons. War did.”

  “But it was my decision to ally my forces with Argos that escalated that war towards the brutal conflict that ripped the lives from billions of your people.”

  “Nevertheless,” said Saroudis, taking a deep breath, “we must not let the horrors of the past define who we become. Revenge would not bring my sons back. But this newly found friendship, one that has the potential to echo positively throughout the ages, this matters. It gives meaning to all the deaths and sacrifices, somehow. So I thank you for your gesture, Altair and, as far as my sons are concerned, you have my forgiveness.”