by Jacob Holo
Dominic followed Gurgella in silence.
Do you even realize who you’re talking to? he thought. We have our first true chance to gain the upper hand in this war, and it’s all because of me. Who are you to question my decisions?
Nearly twenty years to the day, Dominic had escaped Aktenzek with an intact seraph and the first pilot captured alive, allowing Grendeni technicians to reverse-engineer its secrets. The mechanisms within that great machine disturbed Dominic even to this day, and the ethical cost of the Archangel Project continued to be paid in the blood of innocents.
Gurgella and Dominic boarded a private tram. It floated through the northcity’s vast urban sprawl and ascended. Dominic glanced back, watching the tall spires of silver and glass recede as the gravity tram accelerated diagonally towards the schism’s axis. The tram’s walls and ceiling were transparent, providing a spectacular view of the northcity.
They sped towards the northern factory zone.
“Are they really that unstable?” Gurgella asked.
“We end up putting down about one in five,” Dominic said. “We’ve tried everything we can think of to stabilize them. Drugs, cranial implants, mental conditioning, and so on. Everything we do neuters their piloting talents. We simply don’t understand how the ability is passed. It’s hereditary, but not genetic. Clones possess none of the original’s talents. Artificial insemination also doesn’t work. The talent is only passed when pilots mate naturally.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Gurgella said with a dismissive wave. “But one in five?”
“They have a habit of becoming uncontrollably violent towards the other pilots.”
“Only other pilots?”
“Yeah. Curse it if I know why.”
The tram flew along the schism’s axial tube and entered the northern cap tunnel. They bypassed the tunnel’s congested traffic lanes and glided into the northern factory zone. Here, the entire inner surface of the schism cylinder was one giant factory: over six hundred square kilometers of concentrated manufacturing power. The tram sped past towering mechanized edifices that almost reached the axial tube.
“Ah, there they are,” Gurgella said, looking through the glass bottom.
Ten cargo haulers rose from the archangel factories. They slowed and hovered, forming a line for inspection.
The tram settled into a parallel path and stopped near the lead cargo hauler. Dominic and Gurgella occupied a small glass box next to the immense humanoid weapon.
Dominic’s mouth quirked up in disgust as he recalled seraph pilot Mezen Daed’s “contribution” to the Archangel Project. The man was “persuaded” to impregnate one hundred females as a precondition of his release through a prisoner exchange with Aktenzek.
These pregnancies were manipulated to have an unusually large number of fraternal and identical offspring, sometimes as many as a dozen children. The children were then surgically altered to mature in less than two years. Once capable of mating, they were interbred with each other as well as bred with suitable candidates from the general populace. The current berserkers were the tenth generation result of those experiments.
Not as good as the real thing, but plentiful and expendable. It all made Dominic sick to his stomach. Or rather, it would if he actually could become sick to his stomach.
Grendeni engineers had designed the archangels around similar principles, producing a crude, plentiful reflection of the seraph’s technical mastery.
The archangels possessed no armor, relying solely on their pilots’ feeble barriers for protection. Their giant bodies resembled copper skeletons packed with machinery. Only two slender wings extended from their backs. Each skull-like head contained twin scanners like large black lenses, giving them hauntingly human faces.
“What sort of trials will you be holding today, Dominic?” Gurgella asked.
“We will continue testing the newest sword variants. The last few batches have had an unacceptably high number of defects.”
Unlike seraphs, archangels possessed no beam weapons. The repeatedly fatal attempts to reproduce the miniaturized fusion cannon technology had burned through too many test pilots. But this obstacle had led to an unprecedented Grendeni breakthrough: the chaos sword.
A sword was twice as expensive as the archangel wielding it and nearly as large, but the weapons elevated each archangel to their intended roles as pure, dedicated seraph-killers.
“Very well,” Gurgella said. “Proceed with the test.”
Dominic opened a neural link but was interrupted before he could send.
“Administrators,” a schism control officer said. “We have two unscheduled vessels folding in ten thousand kilometers off the schism.”
“Can you identify them?” Gurgella asked.
“One moment…” he said, then gasped. “Administrators, they’re seraphs!”
“What?” Dominic said.
“Fold!” Gurgella shouted. “Get us out of here!”
Dominic linked to the Righteous Anger’s active scanners and perceived the seraphs in a small pocket of his mind. The visual distortion of their fold points made details sketchy, but there could be no mistaking the silhouettes.
Two seraphs approached rapidly, one white and one black.
The Righteous Anger folded space on a small standby charge, emerging five light-minutes away.
Dominic spread his mind into the Righteous Anger’s control network, analyzing fold engine propagator status, fold trajectory, and point of origin. But it was a pointless exercise. A craft as massive as the Righteous Anger could never outpace seraphs fold for fold.
We have only moments before those seraphs follow us, Dominic thought. But why are they attacking a civilian target? Do they know about the archangels? If so, why only two seraphs?
“Fleet has been notified,” the schism control officer said. “We’ll be reinforced in ten minutes.”
“Fold again as soon as the engines are ready,” Gurgella said.
“The two seraphs have followed our fold trajectory. They’re coming in!”
Dominic shifted his primary mental focus back to the seraph visuals. The black seraph must have employed some form of stealth technology. Even under maximum resolution, he could see nothing besides its black silhouette. He shifted his focus to the white seraph.
Oh no. No-no-no-no-no. Not him!
Dominic’s heart threatened to punch through his ribcage. How could he ever forget that terrible white seraph? Blue Aktenai letters blazed across its limbs and wings, proclaiming the litany of their false mission. Even after so many years, its silhouette evoked palpable terror in him.
“Jack…” Dominic whispered. “I’m going to die.”
“One of the seraphs has latched onto the hull! It’s inside our fold envelope! We can’t get away!”
The white seraph walked across the Righteous Anger’s barren exterior. A blade of pure blue energy ignited out of its forearm.
With two deliberate strokes and a strong kick, the seraph breached the schism’s outer hull and flew into the northern space dock. From within, the schism was totally defenseless.
Except for…
“Dominic.” Gurgella rubbed his sweating hands together. “We don’t have a choice. Launch the archangels.”
“It won’t matter,” Dominic said, his voice quiet and unwavering. “Not against this one. Not if we had a hundred could we survive this attack.”
“Curse your stubbornness! We have a seraph inside the schism! Launch the archangels!”
Dominic closed his eyes and sighed. Well, if I’m going to die, might as well go out fighting.
He linked to the cargo haulers. “Release pilots from stasis. Activate archangel squadron twenty-seven.”
One by one, the pilots awoke from their artificial slumber. Vent-like shunts on each archangel burned with yellow inner light. Mechanical restraints snapped off their wrists and ankles. Each archangel twitched alive and climbed free of the cargo haulers. The closest one picked up a sword as long as it was
tall. When its hands gripped the hilt, one edge of the blade glowed faintly and brightened.
Dominic guided the tram towards the factory surface. He didn’t want to be anywhere near them.
“The seraph has broken into the factory zone!” the schism control officer said. “It’s inside!”
A distant white speck flew out of a depressurization tornado. Mnemonic alloy along the schism’s skin quickly closed the breach.
The seraph swung around and headed straight for them.
“Release archangel scanner blinds,” Dominic linked. “Designate the white seraph as primary target.”
The archangels pulled away from the cargo haulers and caught sight of their enemy. The group spread their wings and accelerated towards the seraph. One archangel lagged behind on purpose, raised its sword, and cleaved one of its comrades in two.
Dominic let out a frustrated sigh and linked a kill code to the offending craft. Devices in the cockpit liquefied the pilot. Its shunts flickered and died. The skeletal machine fell away, limbs slack at its sides. It crashed into the tiered storage warehouse below.
Eight archangels charged in.
The white seraph raised its unusually long chaos blade and met the lead archangel head on. The archangel blurred swinging its sword, even to Dominic’s enhanced eyes.
But the seraph moved faster. It darted past and slashed through the archangel’s waist. Two halves spun away, luminous fluid pulsing from the wound.
Three archangels dove in at once. The seraph swung wide, its blade forming a burning arc of light. Its strike bashed through two of the archangels’ guards, cutting them down. The third succeeded in deflecting the attack, but its victory was short lived.
With its free arm, the seraph punched clean through that archangel’s stomach. Wrecked equipment and a spray of liquid blew out the back. The seraph flung the ruined machine away.
“Curse me,” Gurgella breathed. “What a monster.”
“I know,” Dominic said.
Only four archangels remained. Two circled behind the seraph to form a loose ring around it. The seraph waited in the center.
All four archangels swarmed in at once.
Chaos energy collected above the seraph’s unarmed wrist, forming a blazing energy shield. It parried the first attack and hewed an archangel in the first swing, then turned, deflected another strike and split an archangel from head to groin.
The seraph spread its wings, climbed above the last two, then dove in again. With a diagonal slash, it cut another down. Glowing conductor fluid rained on the factories below. Coppery limbs, torsos, and wings crashed to the ground.
The white seraph stabbed the last archangel through its chest, incinerating the pilot. The archangel’s barrier faded. Its shunts turned black. The seraph kicked the dead machine off its blade, then faced the tram.
“Wha-wha-what is it doing?” Gurgella stuttered.
“Coming for us,” Dominic said, then whispered, “or perhaps for me.”
The white seraph sped in and grabbed the glass tram in one massive fist. The jarring impact threw Gurgella and Dominic to the floor. Massive digits pressed in. Glass creaked and splintered. Cracks spread across the walls.
Dominic pushed off the floor and stood up. The seraph raised the tram to head height and looked in. He faced the seraph, back straight, head raised.
Come on, Jack. If you’re going to kill me, then get it over with.
The seraph linked with the tram’s audio systems. Dominic let the signal through.
“Hey, Dom. It’s been a while.”
“Jack,” Dominic said simply.
“So those were the new Grendeni archangels. Not too bad for fake seraphs.”
“How could you possibly know about them?”
The seraph shrugged its shoulders. “I have my ways.”
“That’s ridiculous. They’re a carefully guarded secret.”
“Your work?” Jack asked.
“Yes. They’re our new anti-seraph weapon.”
“I think you need to try harder.”
“They’re not designed to go against you.”
The seraph shook as if laughing. “Fair point, Dom. Fair point.”
What are you waiting for? Dominic thought.
“I can see their potential,” Jack said. “This might turn out even better than I hoped. Who’s your friend?”
“Administrator Gurgella. This is his schism.”
“He just wet himself.”
“I don’t blame him. You have that effect on people.”
The seraph made that laughing motion again. “Then maybe you should introduce us. You can tell him some embarrassing stories about me. Maybe pick one from our good old days back in SpecOps.”
“Curse it, Jack!” Dominic growled. “If you’re here to kill me, then do it. I won’t beg for my life, if that’s what you’re waiting for.”
“I’m not here to kill you.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Come on. It’s been so long. Aren’t I allowed to look up an old friend and drop by for a beer?”
“I was never your friend. I only played the part.”
“Yeah. I know. That hurt, by the way. Still does.”
“Enough games, Jack. Just tell me straight. Why are you here?”
The seraph shifted its stance and angled its head forward, taking on a stern, serious air.
“It’s simple,” Jack said. “I have a proposal for the Grendeni.”
“And why would we ever listen to you?”
“Because of what you stand to gain. The location of the Gate.”
“What?” Dominic said. “Are you serious?”
“I am.”
“You know where it is?”
“No,” Jack said. “Not yet, anyway. But I know how to get it. Interested?”
“Well, of course I am. If we got our hands on the Gate, we could force the Aktenai to stop this war. We could actually win the war. They’d do anything not to see the Gate destroyed.”
Cautious relief welled up in Dominic. Maybe he wasn’t going to die today after all.
“An exciting possibility, isn’t it?” Jack said.
“You know it is.”
Jack brought the tram closer. “So, will you help me?”
“It doesn’t matter what you offer. I don’t trust you and neither will the Executives.”
“That makes two of us. But I think you’ll find we both have something to gain here.”
“Prove to me this isn’t some Aktenai trick.”
“You want proof?” Jack said. “I’ll give you proof you can’t ignore.”
Dominic crossed his arms. “That is something I’d very much like to see.”
Chapter 6
Reunion
Seth and Quennin folded space to the solar system.
The fortress planet of Aktenzek loomed ahead. Its entire surface gleamed like a pearly sea. Ten-kilometer-thick mnemonic armor shrouded the whole planet. Forests of fusion cannon towers and mountain ranges of exodrone control pyramids covered the surface.
Just beyond Aktenzek was its younger twin, Zu’Rashik. The Earth was a swirl of blue-white in the distance, its orbit unaffected by the presence of the two foreign worlds.
From space, the fortress planets were identical. Inside, however, was a very different story.
As part of the Treaty of the Alliance, Aktenzek had remained in Earth orbit, safeguarding the vulnerable Earth Nation from Grendeni aggression. Unsatisfied with their world’s new sedentary nature, the Choir had ordered the construction of a new fortress planet for operations elsewhere.
Zu’Rashik had started its life as an unremarkable airless rock. Over the past twenty years, the Aktenai had poured their immense industrial might into creating from that rock a fortress planet every bit the equal of Aktenzek.
“It’s good to be home,” Quennin said.
“Yes, it is. I sometimes forget how much I miss Aktenzek.”
“When are the first settlers moving to
Zu’Rashik?”
“This year, I think. Enough habitat caverns should be carved out by now. Perhaps we should join one of the new cities?”
“Ha! As if you could ever sit still long enough.”
Seth grinned. “Too true.”
“Let’s not keep the Sovereign waiting.”
Quennin unfurled her flame-red wings. Emerald lightning crackled within the large kite-shaped gems embedded in the side of each wing. She took off with a burst of speed. Seth diverted power to his wings and followed her descent to Aktenzek.
They fell towards the planet, passing massive arrays of robotic frigates, whole squadrons of dreadnoughts, and a pair of Aktenai seraph squadrons competing in sparring exercises. Aktenzek grew larger until its horizon was flat.
Seth and Quennin skimmed across the fortress planet’s surface. Lanes of gigantic fusion towers flashed by. Drone control pyramids rose seventy kilometers into the black, airless sky. Seth and Quennin broke through the towers and climbed, cresting several large white domes each the size of a mountain. They sped past an expansive metropolis that crawled and plodded across the surface, affixing additional fusion towers as it crept along.
A vast iris of mnemonic armor opened ahead. Seth and Quennin flew up, looped over, and sped down the mammoth tunnel. They dodged around lanes of automated transports, rushed through zones of light and dark, then took a sharp turn at a T-junction. Mnemonic security shutters snapped open, permitting their entry.
Seth and Quennin shot through a coin-shaped habitat cavern several kilometers across. A simulated sun shone through a simulated sky, its light gleaming off towers of gold and glass. They arced around the spires and slipped through a square exit.
They followed the twisting network of tunnels deeper into the planet, past reinforced security checkpoints, several habitat caverns, and two industrial complexes. After several minutes, they arrived at the planet’s center.
The Core of Aktenzek floated in a grand spherical chamber with no visible support: a planetoid within a planet, smooth and white. Tightly packed mechanical cylinders crammed the sky, buzzing with the colossal energies needed to power the world’s gravity drives and fold engines.
A single city sprawled across the white planetoid, and in the center of that city was the Sovereign’s Palace. The palace pyramid rose up from the surrounding villa with slopes like finely polished mirrors. It towered over everything else.