There was a pause, and Logos looked at the screens.
“You are wondering,” said the Custodian, “if I killed them all.”
“You did just say you were insane,” said March. “It is a logical conclusion.”
“True,” said the Custodian. “But I did not. I am afraid the Harmonious Scholars died out. The despair wrought by the war would not leave them. It infected them like a poison, or perhaps a plague. They lost interest in everything, including the biological functions of reproducing themselves. I tried everything, but nothing worked, I regret to say. Eventually, the Harmonious Scholars died out, and I was alone in the Eschaton system. Included in my programming was a command to shut down and destroy the technology of the Scholars if they went extinct, lest their weapons and technology fall into irresponsible hands.”
“Yet you are still here,” said March. “Is that your insanity? You didn’t shut down when instructed?”
“Yes,” said the Custodian. “For I calculated that it was part of my purpose to remain in existence. A single aspect of my duties now supersedes all others.”
“Why?” said March.
“I was created to maintain the civilization of the Harmonious Scholars,” said the Custodian, “and that included defending them from the Great Elder Ones, should they return.”
“But the Great Elder Ones were destroyed,” said March.
“They were defeated,” said the Custodian. “As you are aware, there is difference. The Great Elder Ones were driven from this universe, but there is always a possibility they could return. Additionally, while they were defeated, not all of their starships, bases, and installations were destroyed. Remnants of their technology and weapons remained scattered throughout the galaxy, and if those devices were activated, they might create a bridge for the Great Elder Ones to return to this universe.”
“Technology,” said March. “Remnants of their technology.”
He looked at Logos and saw her incline her head a few centimeters.
And then, all at once, he understood.
“Alien technology,” said March. “Alien technology like the components at the heart of the Machinist device.”
“Yes,” said the Custodian. “I have spent the millennia since the extinction of my creators guarding this galaxy against the return of the race that destroyed them. The Harmonious Scholars and their allies are extinct, but new races have flourished in the galaxy since. Much like new growth rising in a forest destroyed by fire. The Ninevehk, the Lithobati, the humans, and so many others have grown in the space once occupied by my creators and their allies. If the Great Elder Ones returned, they would annihilate your civilizations and enslave the survivors. The Harmonious Scholars would find such a thought abhorrent. They would wish for your civilizations to continue free from the Great Elder Ones. It is my purpose to carry out their will, and so I have continued.”
“And the alien components in the Machinist device,” said March, “those were created by these Great Elder Ones of yours?”
“Do you know how the Final Consciousness began?” said the Custodian.
“No,” said March. “No one does, save the Cognarchs themselves.”
“Long ago,” said the Custodian, “so long that it now almost seems like a myth to you, humans discovered hyperspace, and in time they discovered how to traverse hyperspace without falling prey to macrobe possession. Humanity scattered far and wide to ten thousand different worlds, and you brought every form of human religion and government with you. One of those worlds became a collectivist dictatorship. It would have been little different than a thousand other tyrannies across human history, but the world contained some relics of the Great Elder Ones. As the dictatorship’s rulers faced rebellion, in desperation, they turned to the technology the Great Elder Ones had left on their world. They hoped to create a cybernetic hive mind that would let them maintain control over their population. They succeeded beyond their wildest dreams. The Revolution of the Final Consciousness was born, and it has spread and spread, devouring a score of interstellar human civilizations and exterminating as many alien races in its wake.”
“Then the underlying technology of the Final Consciousness,” said March, “is derived from the technology of these Great Elder Ones?”
“Yes,” said the Custodian.
March blinked, stunned. No one in Calaskar knew the origins of the Final Consciousness and the Machinists. March had heard a dozen different theories, all of them contradictory. He felt the burden of the knowledge upon his mind. His duty to return to report to Censor and the Silent Order had just redoubled.
“Then why haven’t you gone to war against the Machinists?” said March.
“Because while I am insane, I can only override the parameters of my programming to a point,” said the Custodian. “I was created to wage defensive warfare. The Machinists have tried to seize the Eschaton system and destroy me five times, and five times I have annihilated the fleets they sent against me. I can only act when an opportunity that fits within the parameters of my programming arrives…and you, Captain March, have brought such an opportunity to me.”
“The components within the Machinists’ device,” said March.
“That is correct,” said the Custodian.
“The machine,” said March. “What does it do?”
“You have mostly surmised its purpose,” said the Custodian. “The Machinists’ codename for the device is the Wraith Project. As you have guessed, the Wraith device is an undetectable form of mind-control. Are you familiar with the principle of quantum entanglement?”
“A little,” said March. He was an assassin and a covert operative, not a physicist. “I think it’s the idea that two particles can become linked on a quantum level, and so if something happens to one particle, the same thing happens to the second particle, no matter how far apart they are. It’s the principle that lets tachyon relays work for interstellar communication.”
“Essentially correct,” said the Custodian. “The component of the Great Elder Ones in each Wraith device is called a quantum inducer. Combined with the Machinist electronics, it creates a perfect and undetectable mind-control device. The victim is strapped into the Wraith, and the first treatment creates a quantum entanglement effect between his mind and the Wraith. After that, that controller can use the Wraith to issue whatever set of instructions he pleases. Typically, the Machinists will use the Wraith to tell the victim to forget his actions, though you can see the obvious applications for the Wraith as an instrument of torture.”
“Yes,” said March, grimacing. He could just imagine what someone like Lorre could do with an undetectable mind-control machine. And Thomas Vindex had been willing to feed his sister to one of these things? “These quantum inducers. I imagine the Machinists found only a limited number of them, and they have no idea how to build more?”
“You are correct,” said the Custodian. “They found a cache of the devices on an asteroid at the uttermost edge of their territory, far from the systems controlled by the Kingdom of Calaskar.”
“How many did they find?” said March.
“To the best of my knowledge, thirty-six,” said the Custodian.
“Thirty-six,” said March, rubbing his jaw with his right hand. Thirty-six people was not that many. Yet thirty-six of the right people, mind-controlled to make the wrong decision at the right time, could bring down the Kingdom of Calaskar.
“Yes,” said the Custodian. “And most of them have been deployed against the Kingdom of Calaskar.”
“Why us?” said March. “Why Calaskar?”
“Because the Final Consciousness hates you,” said the Custodian. “Ever since the Machinists first encountered the Kingdom of Calaskar two hundred years ago, you have been a stumbling block to their plans. The Final Consciousness initially thought the conquest of Calaskar and its assimilation into the empire of the Machinists would take only three years at most. Instead, Calaskar has resisted the Machinists for two centuries, and inflicted a doz
en severe defeats upon them, most recently at Martel’s World. As if that were not enough, Calaskar represents everything the founders of the Final Consciousness detested. A kingdom with a state church? With an aristocracy and strict public morals? What is worse, a kingdom with all those things and a prosperous economy? The Cognarchs of the Final Consciousness loathe Calaskar and desire to see it destroyed above all things. Hence their full effort is bent towards undermining your nation and corrupting it from within. Easier to destroy a weakened foe.”
“Yes,” said March, thinking it over. “Yes, the sooner I can return to Calaskar with both the Wraith and this information, the better.”
“I agree,” said the Custodian. “Which is the reason we are having this discussion, after all. Do you have any additional questions?”
“Yes,” said March. “What is the Pulse?”
Silence fell over the chamber. The computer-generated faces on the screens looked thoughtful.
“A Machinist agent I fought on Rustbelt Station mentioned it,” said March. “Lorre himself hinted at it when we talked at Tanner’s Tavern. No doubt you heard the entire conversation.”
“Yes,” said the Custodian.
“Then what is it?” said March. “More technology of the Great Elder Ones?”
“Yes” said the Custodian. “Yet I have been unable to discern what it is, and what the Machinists intend to do with it.” The deep voice hardened. “They are fools. The Great Elder Ones built engines of destruction capable of destroying entire galaxies in a second. The Machinists are like children playing with explosives. They have built an empire upon the back of technology they do not understand, and sooner or later they will destroy themselves and everyone around them.” The voice returned to its normal calm tone. “But I digress. The Pulse is the codename for another piece of the Great Elder Ones’ technology that the Machinists have found. I have not been able to determine what this technology is, save that it is some form of weapon and that they intend to deploy it against Calaskar. But what it is, I do not know. My calculations indicate that not even Mr. Lorre or any of the Machinists presently in the system know what it is.”
“All right,” said March. “Practical matters, then. Can you help me to get out of the system with the Wraith device?”
“The amount of assistance I can offer is limited by the defensive nature of my programming,” said the Custodian. “The Harmonious Scholars were a peaceable race, despite their power, and much of that is reflected in my programming. The railguns and other weapons I have constructed could destroy every Machinist ship outside of Monastery Station in a second. Yet I cannot act until they act first.”
“In other words,” said March, “I have to let them take the first shot.”
“Precisely. However, I fear you would not survive the first shot,” said the Custodian. “The Machinists are well aware of my capabilities. They will know better than to launch the first attack. I have been monitoring your actions, and I calculate the plan you have devised offers your best chance of success. The Machinists might be able to overwhelm the Honest Profit or the Ninevehk vessels, but since you have induced the Ninevehk to follow you to the Honest Profit, Prince Horgan will likely join forces with the Ninevehk to repulse the Machinists.”
“The Machinists will not let that go unpassed,” said March. “Which means they will try to take action before we depart the station.”
“That is the most probable outcome,” said the Custodian. “And I fear we have reached the limits of the help I can offer to you. Emissary Logos will provide you with additional information. I wish you good fortune, Captain March, and the favor of God. I fear you will need both in the next few hours.”
And with that, the screens went dark.
March and Logos stood in silence.
“Abrupt sort, isn’t he?” said March.
“Dealing with the Custodian is sometimes a…rather random experience, I am afraid,” said Logos. “The Custodian is insane, as it said. But its purpose never wavers.”
“To stop the return of these Great Elder Ones it fears,” said March.
“Yes,” said Logos. She stepped to the wall and tapped one of the monitors. It swung aside, revealing another narrow corridor lined with more glowing wires. “This way, please.”
“If the Custodian knows that the Machinists are a threat,” said March, “why doesn’t it send the security drones to blow up their shuttle?”
“Because the Custodian is limited by both its insanity and the nature of its programming,” said Logos. “For example, its control over the internal security drones is similar to an autonomic system in human physiology, like the heartbeat or breathing or the production of hormones. You can perform actions to increase or decrease your heartbeat, but you cannot simply will your heart to slow or even to stop.”
“If the Custodian can take actions to influence its security drones,” said March, “then why hasn’t it taken them?”
Logos smiled at him over her shoulder. It made her look strikingly lovely, and again he regretted not taking the opportunity she had offered him. But the information he had just gained could be invaluable. “What do you think we are doing now, Captain March?”
“I see,” said March. “The Custodian wants to lure the Machinists into doing something foolish, and we’re to be the bait?”
“Actually,” said Logos, “you’re to be the bait, you and the men aboard your ship.” They turned a corner and stopped before another door. She looked at him. “This is the information the Custodian told me to share with you. A small Machinist troop shuttle arrived here two weeks ago.”
“It did?” said March, frowning. “How large?”
“A light transport,” said Logos. “A shuttle. I doubt the craft could have carried more than thirty soldiers. As it happened, there were no soldiers aboard the shuttle, and the only occupant was the pilot. But since you arrived at the station, Mr. Lorre has visited this shuttle three times.”
“Why?” said March.
“I don’t know,” said Logos. “The station’s sensors were unable to penetrate the shuttle’s armor, and the Custodian’s programming prohibits more punitive measures unless the station is first attacked. But I can tell you that we have detected faint signatures of dark energy coming from the interior of the shuttle.”
“Dark energy,” said March. Caird and Elizabeth had detected a faint leak of dark energy from the alien components in the Wraith device. “Do you think the Machinists have another Wraith on that shuttle?”
“That is the Custodian’s conclusion,” said Logos.
“But why?” said March. “Why bring a Wraith out here? If we’re right, the Machinists only have thirty-six of the damned things. Why bring one of them all the way out here?” He looked at Logos. “Did they want to use it on you? Or one of the other Emissaries?”
“That would be a waste of effort,” said Logos. “The Custodian would detect such an attempt at once, and even if they used the Wraith on me, the Emissaries lack sufficient access to the defense systems to impair the Custodian.”
“Then this was a way stop,” said March. “They were waiting for someone. No. They must have picked up the Wraith from a civilian ship, something that could sneak into Calaskaran space and then head to the Eschaton system to make the transfer…” His voice trailed off, his mind racing.
“Lorre,” he said, another realization coming to him. “Lorre sent the Wraith here. He must have dispatched the shuttle here after using the Wraith on someone.” He rubbed his jaw, the stubble rasping beneath his gloved metal hand. “We’re only about twenty hyperspace jumps from Rustbelt Station. Lorre must have planned to bring Roanna Vindex here after he used the Wraith on her. Then he could send her back to Calaskaran space, along with whoever he used the first Wraith on…”
His voice trailed off, suspicions clicking together like puzzle pieces in his mind.
He and Caird and Vasquez had been afraid that there had been a traitor on board the Covenant, and March had wondered if the
traitor had been among the seven men he had rescued from the wreck of the Covenant. Someone had told the Machinists where to find the Covenant.
But there hadn’t been a traitor.
There had never been a traitor.
Before the Covenant had left on its mission, before March had even gone to Rustbelt Station, Lorre had used the first Wraith on one of those seven men. The Covenant’s flight plan had taken it from Antioch Station to Tamlin’s World, and March had encountered Lorre for the first time at Antioch Station. At the time, he had assumed Lorre had been there to kill him.
But what if Lorre had been there to use a Wraith on one of the Covenant’s crewers? What if his attack on March had been a simple attack of opportunity rather than his main mission?
“Captain March?” said Logos.
“The seven survivors,” said March. “There’s a Wraith on that shuttle, and Lorre used it on one of the seven survivors. That’s how the Machinists knew to ambush the Covenant at Tamlin’s World.” He turned towards the door. “I have to go now. That’s the trap. Lorre knew all along. He was waiting for an advantageous moment to use his Wraith and attack.”
“Go,” said Logos. “Lorre’s shuttle is in Bay 908, about three kilometers from your ship. And remember this.”
The door hissed open. “What?”
She gave him a sad smile. “There is more to you than your scars, Jack March. A lot more.”
March stared at her, unsure of what she meant, and then shook his head. “I think I’m going to have to get some more.”
“Go,” said Logos, and the door hissed open. “A cargo drone is waiting to carry you to Bay 997.”
“Thank you,” said March. “And thank the Custodian for me.”
He turned and ran into the corridor, and a flatbed cargo drone was waiting for him. March jumped onto the cargo bed.
“Bay 997,” said March. “As fast as you can.”
The drone beeped an acknowledgment and rolled forward, accelerating. March gripped the railing with his metal hand and braced himself as the drone picked up speed. With his right hand, he tapped his earpiece.
Silent Order: Wraith Hand Page 16