by Unknown
Arthur was not sure he had heard right. ‘Pilot robots!’ ‘That’s right.’ Merlin blinked innocently. ‘It’s no joke, I assure you.’
‘No, of course not,’ said Arthur, a touch embarrassed for having thought it might be. Something clicked into place in his head. ‘Just now I asked you how human pilots could withstand Mach Seven. Are you saying that . . .?’
‘I am,’ said Merlin. ‘In any military operation requiring high speed flight, a robot pilot would fly the Nimble.’
For a while Arthur was silent, absorbing what he had learned in his short time on Camelot. Whatever Merlin was up to, it was certainly extraordinary, as he might have expected of the magus; it was also disturbing. Ahead of the Hovercraft now was a building perched on one short, thick pillar, then another exactly the same, and another and another – a whole cluster of buildings that looked like a field of huge white mushrooms. ‘Those low spherical shapes,’ said Arthur. ‘What are they?’
‘The entrances to underground bunkers and pens,’ said Merlin.
‘What’s in them?’
‘Scuttles,’ said Merlin. ‘Nimbles. Eclipse.’ The shadow of a smile crossed the face of the magus as he watched Arthur wrestling with the strange names. ‘And last, but not least, the Kraken.’
‘I already know that Nimbles are your fighter aircraft,’ said Arthur. ‘What about the others?’
‘Scuttles are basically transport aircraft, very versatile and highly manoeuvrable, designed to operate in difficult terrain – mountains, forests, deserts, you name it. Eclipse is a giant cigar-shaped aircraft. It has a huge range and can carry a small army together with its weapons and transport. It also has highly accurate long and short-range missiles, satellites and various UAV’s, and serves as a flying observation and communications HQ. Incidentally,’ said Merlin, who was obviously thoroughly enjoying himself, ‘all our aircraft are capable of vertical take- off and landing. The Kraken is another giant, a sea craft, basically the equivalent of Eclipse. Its weapons systems are as potent as an armada of battleships, and it has the advantage of being able to operate both on the surface and underwater.’
Arthur’s brain felt as though it had been sliced into thin onion-like layers, all expanding rapidly in concentric circles. But where the centre of the onion was, and when the circles would stop expanding, he had no idea. ‘Is this all your doing, Merlin?’ he heard someone say, someone with a voice very like his.
‘With a little help from my friends,’ said Merlin, with a wink. The Hovercart landed with a thump outside a low, white building. ‘Command Control,’ Merlin volunteered. ‘Come and have a cup of tea.’ The lighting inside the building was dim with a bluish tinge. Arthur followed Merlin down a long, bare corridor into a room that he assumed must be his office – a small desk, several computers and wall monitors, books and papers, a sink, a few plates, mugs, a kettle, a fridge. All very sparse and functional, yet somehow radiating energy, the energy of the magus.
Merlin bustled about making tea while Arthur tried to regroup the moving parts of his brain. From the Hovercart he had seen numerous people either walking along paths or chatting outside buildings and guessed there were a lot more of them inside those buildings, probably also in Command Control where he and Merlin were now. What was it Merlin had said when he first showed him round his ‘facilities’ at Glastonbury? Yes, I do have helpers, men and women who will one day be actively involved somewhere else. People who share my beliefs and are dedicated to the cause. What exactly, Arthur wondered, was this island? Where was it? Who lived on it?
‘A lot of questions,’ responded Merlin, though Arthur had not asked them. ‘First let me tell you something about the island.’ He handed Arthur his tea. ‘It was deserted for centuries. Later, much later, a man lived here alone, a man who had inherited the island. He lived and died here.’ Merlin sipped his tea, his green eyes staring fixedly at Arthur over the rim of his mug. ‘Once, they say, this island was a kingdom ruled by a great king.’ A sly look. ‘Do I need to tell you who that was?’
Arthur ignored the bait. ‘Those ruins that I saw when we were landing . . . was that his castle?’
‘So they say.’
‘It’s just a coincidence,’ murmured Arthur to himself. ‘It has to be.’
Merlin made no comment.
‘Surely someone must have spotted what was going on here?’
‘No,’ said Merlin. ‘Not from the air?’
‘No.’
‘From the sea, then?’ ‘No.’
‘It seems you have had the most incredible luck,’ said Arthur mischievously, knowing full well that Merlin did not believe in luck.
The magus was clearly stung by the suggestion. ‘Luck has nothing whatever to do with it.’
‘Explain then,’ said Arthur.
The magus sat proudly erect. ‘No one can see the island, unless I choose to let them see it.’
Even coming from the magus that sounded like an empty boast. ‘Why not?’ said Arthur.
‘Because,’ said Merlin tantalisingly, ‘it is mantled.’ Arthur sighed. Yet more riddles. ‘What does that mean?’
‘It means the island cannot be detected, either visually or any other way.’
‘What if a ship ran into it?’
‘That couldn’t happen,’ Merlin assured him. ‘It would be diverted without even knowing it. I have taken care of that.’
‘I don’t see how you can hide the island from satellites,’ said Arthur.
‘Oh but I can and I do,’ said Merlin smugly. ‘No prying eyes, wherever they are, can penetrate the island’s mantle.’ It was a simple statement of fact, and knowing the magus, Arthur had no doubt it was true.
Was there nothing the magus had overlooked? ‘Who knows about this island?’
‘I do. You do. My friends do.’ Arthur was curious. ‘Friends?’
‘The people who work here. There are not many of them yet, but there will be more – scientists and researchers, doctors and surgeons, teachers, engineers, constructions workers, architects and others. All experts in their field.’ The crème de la crème as they say.’ Merlin’s huge eyes shone. ‘Not only are they the best, Arthur, these men and women believe in what we are doing. Otherwise they would not be here. They are convinced that Camelot is the only hope for the world.’
‘You say there will be more,’ said Arthur. ‘When?’ ‘When the time comes.’
‘When will that be?’
An apologetic shrug. ‘I’m afraid I can’t answer that.’ ‘Why not?’
‘Because, Arthur, it depends on you.’
Frustration piled on frustration. It was as if Merlin were standing on the far side of a deep chasm beckoning him. He was tempted, but he was also fearful. How could he get across without plunging into the abyss?
A thought occurred. Politics had taught Arthur caution. ‘These friends – are they confined to the island.’
‘They are free to come and go as they please.’
Strange that Merlin should be so relaxed about it. ‘Are you not afraid someone might give the game away? Either deliberately or accidentally.’
Merlin nodded his head in approval at the question. ‘We have taken care of that too. No one can leave Camelot until they deposit the relevant part of their memory in the memory bank. The bank decides what they take with them and what they leave behind. Once they have done that, they are free to go, and of course to return.’
Arthur’s lively mind launched him in another direction. ‘You said there was a kingdom here long ago.’
‘I did.’
He had him now. Even Merlin couldn’t think of everything. ‘Then,’ said Arthur, ‘the island must be recorded on old maps and charts.’
‘It was,’ conceded Merlin, ‘until quite recently.’ ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Some years ago there was a disturbance in the Atlantic. Ships and planes reported seeing strange lights and explosions in the area. Quite a show it was, apparently but no one knows exactly what happened. It wa
s a mystery; some said it was a huge volcanic eruption, others were convinced it was an earthquake, some even thought it was caused by the impact of a meteor. Scientific opinion was divided. Only one thing was certain: the island disappeared without trace. No, I lie. They did spot some debris floating in the ocean fifty miles west of its original location: fragments of rock, vegetable matter, that kind of thing.’
Arthur saluted the master. ‘You think of everything, Merlin.’
Merlin grinned happily. ‘Good of you to say so.’
Now came the most important question of all. ‘What are you doing here, Merlin? What is it all for?’
Merlin took Arthur’s empty mug and set it down with his own. Fastidiously, concentrating on the small task, he washed the mugs and laid them upside down to dry. ‘There,’ he said, satisfied with his work. ‘Now what was the question?’ Arthur had the strong impression that all this was a performance contrived to heighten tension. ‘Ah, yes. What’s it all for? I was wondering when you were going to ask me that.’ The magus took Arthur by the hand. ‘Come, I have something to show you.’
The control room was flanked by rows of monitors. Moving slowly down the long lines of screens Arthur was sickened and horrified to find himself confronted by images of suffering and misery on a massive scale; skeletonic children, sharp bones thrusting at their skin, starving to death somewhere in North Africa; hundreds of dead and injured people littering the streets after a suicide bombing in South East Asia; a Russian hospital, wards and corridors crammed with men, women and children suffering from radiation sickness; mutilated bodies in a Middle East desert; unarmed civilians being battered to death by men in camouflage gear somewhere in South America. The walls of the control room were covered with scene upon heart-rending scene of brutality, torture and murder.
For a full minute Arthur was in shock. ‘When did all this happen?’ he asked, turning away, unable to stomach the horror any longer.
‘What you are looking at,’ said Merlin, ‘is happening now as we speak. All these pictures are being transmitted live.
‘How is that possible?’
Merlin perched on a stool and signalled Arthur to do the same. ‘The basic technology is quite simple, it is the extent and efficiency of the coverage that is unique. The pictures are beamed back to us in various ways – by satellite dishes, unmanned air vehicles, miniature robots and many other devices, some large, some microscopic. Some of our electronic ‘spies’ are detected and destroyed, but there are always others to take their place. We know where to look, and what to look for. Very little escapes our attention as we scan the world, and our coverage is infinitely more comprehensive than anyone else’s. We are not the only ones of course. The USA, Russia, China, Japan, the United Kingdom and some other European countries all have highly sophisticated observation and tracking systems. They know pretty much what is going on, though they do very little about it.’
Arthur knew that was true, and not just about his father but about many world leaders. ‘Why do you think that is?’ he asked.
‘Many reasons,’ said Merlin. ‘Inaccurate intelligence, the wrong weapons, incorrect strategy and a shortage of appropriate personnel all make it difficult, if not impossible, to deal effectively with terrorists. But there are other, even more serious problems.’
‘Such as?’
‘The ones you know of, Arthur. Lack of unity, lack of will, and a tendency to make shabby and cynical deals with terrorists instead of confronting them.’
Arthur nodded. This was familiar territory. ‘Surely it’s not all doom and gloom? The United States, our own country, Russia – they are all trying to fight terrorism in their way. And they have their successes from time to time.’
Merlin looked at the monitors. ‘From time to time isn’t good enough, is it? This is a war, and we are losing it. The world is in mortal danger.’
‘You really believe that?’
‘I am certain of it,’ said Merlin solemnly.
‘Even if that is true,’ said Arthur, ‘how can we defeat the terrorists? They have the advantage of surprise. They strike when and where they choose, and they have the most powerful and sophisticated weapons.’
‘The answer to your question is here, Arthur,’ said Merlin. ‘On Camelot we have what it takes to destroy those who threaten the very existence of the free world. When they talk, we shall hear them. When they move, we shall track them. When they hide, we shall find them.’
That word again. ‘We?’
‘There will be no more than a hundred and fifty of us – excluding the robots.’ Arthur expected a smile, but the magus was serious. ‘On this small island will be based the most highly- trained and motivated military force on the planet. They will confront the forces of darkness, all those who threaten the peace of the world and the future of mankind.’ The green eyes glowed. ‘Of course they would need a leader, and not just any leader but a man of integrity, a man of heart and soul, a man of cunning who knows how to outsmart the enemy, a man of courage who fears no one but God himself, a man, in short, much like that ancient king we were speaking of just now. Can’t you see them, Arthur?’ said Merlin, his eyes shining like green moons, ‘can’t you see them riding out to do battle, just like King Arthur and his knights of old? But instead of horses they will ride air and sea craft, Nimbles and Scuttles, Eclipse and Kraken, and the weapons they wield – one in particular – will be far ahead of their time.’
‘Can force really solve the problems of the world?’ asked Arthur.
‘Sometimes force is the only way,’ said Merlin. ‘History has shown that appeasing the wicked invariably ends in disaster. Evil men must be confronted, or the good will be destroyed. But being more powerful than your enemies is not enough. The greatest power does not come from armies and weapons.’ The green eyes glowed brighter and brighter as the magus was inspired by a vision of things to come. ‘Imagine, Arthur, imagine a kingdom founded on love and respect and justice, imagine a small, dedicated band of men and women ready if necessary to sacrifice their lives, not from envy or hatred, not for a country, not for a religion, but to create a peaceful world, a just and happy world, a world that the meek truly can inherit. What a cause, what a noble cause that would be.’
Tears stung Arthur’s eyes. For a long time he said nothing. ‘This weapon you speak of. Can you tell me more about it?’
‘Come with me,’ said Merlin. Outside Command Control he faced Arthur, ‘Describe something you see. Now, at this moment.’
‘Anything?’ ‘Anything.’
Arthur looked around. ‘I see a tall, white building, some kind of office block it looks like.’
‘Where exactly?’
‘About two hundred metres away, there at three o’clock.’ Arthur pointed and turned back to face the magus.
Merlin looked in the direction Arthur had indicated and shook his head. ‘I don’t see it,’ he said.
‘Stop playing games, Merlin. It’s over there.’ Arthur swung round and pointed, frowned and looked again. ‘I don’t see it either. It was there just now. Where has it gone?’
‘Where indeed?’ said Merlin, his face expressionless. Even as he spoke the office block reappeared. ‘Why there it is,’ he cried. ‘It must have been there all the time. Or was it?’ he mused.
‘What do you think, Arthur?’ asked Merlin, eyes wide and innocent as a child’s.
Suddenly Arthur understood. This was no game, this was not one of Merlin’s illusions. ‘The silver sphere,’ he murmured.
‘Quite so,’ said Merlin.
‘Demat, Remat, Elimat.’ This had to be the ultimate weapon.
Merlin nodded, his expression solemn. ‘We call it Excalibur.’
‘Terrifying,’ said Arthur. ‘The very thought that someone might use it scares me. Excalibur could destroy the world.’
‘Every weapon developed by man from the beginning of time has had the power to destroy, to a lesser or greater extent,’ said Merlin. ‘Some, like nuclear or chemical or biological we
apons, are as destructive to the environment as they are to man. Excalibur is different, not just in degree but in kind. It has infinitely more destructive power than any weapon ever invented, yet it can also immobilise life in order to preserve it.’
‘I’m not sure I understand,’ said Arthur.
‘It’s really quite simple,’ said Merlin. ‘Let me explain. And please pay attention,’ he added sternly, as if Arthur were still his pupil at Glastonbury School. ‘It is true that Excalibur destroys matter – whether people or things – but only in Elimat mode. In Demat mode Excalibur merely suspends matter; it does not destroy it. The proof of that is Remat, the mode in which the suspended matter is rematerialised. You have seen both Demat and Remat in operation.’
Arthur nodded. ‘The silver sphere disappeared and reappeared. So did the building just now.’
‘Correct,’ said Merlin. ‘You said Excalibur could destroy the world. I say that on the contrary, it could prevent the world being destroyed by the most deadly weapon of all.’
A weapon more powerful than Excalibur! How could that be? ‘What weapon is that?’
‘Man,’ said Merlin. ‘In the right hands, Excalibur could save the world from mankind for mankind.’
‘The right hands?’ ‘Your hands.’
Arthur shook his head. ‘No, Merlin, not me. I am not the man you think I am. I am a man like other men. I have the same hopes, the same fears, the same desires. The same sun warms my back, the same wind blows in my face. I am just an ordinary man.’
‘That you are not,’ said Merlin positively.
‘I have seen men die,’ said Arthur. ‘I want no more deaths on my conscience.’
The tour of Camelot over, Arthur stood by the Hovercart and gazed across the island at the elegant white buildings radiant in the sunlight, and at the slender columns waving their hands at the sky. Here was a city built for the benefit of generations yet unborn, a space-station that was not in space. Here it was in the middle of an ocean on planet earth, the most thrilling, the most incredible, the most magical sight he had ever seen.