X-Calibur: The Return

by Jackson-Lawrence, R.

  “Take it,” Adam 359 said. “We help each other, that’s how it is.”

  Adam 417 threw the bowl away, spilling its contents across the floor. Adam 359 handed him another bowl, eyeing him intently as Adam 417 hesitated.

  “I’m not the enemy,” Adam 359 said. “These people aren’t the enemy. We’re all slaves here, forced to work for the real enemy, the Mori. You fight well. Trust me, I know. Just think what we could do together if you turned that anger against them.”

  “The Mori are superior in every way,” Adam 417 said, reciting his programming.

  “They’re not,” Adam 359 said sincerely. “We’re every bit their equal, and so are the Dorgans. We’ve all been lied to, Adam 417. Listen to the stories and I promise you, one day you’ll see the Earth for yourself.”

  Adam 417 reluctantly took the bowl of broth and sat with the others, listening to Orlac 552 lead the other Dorgans in song.

  *****

  The mood in the factory had lifted after Adam 359 had put an end to the bullying and harassment from Adam 417 and his gang. They were still forced to work throughout the day, but the evenings were spent reciting stories and singing songs, teaching those around them about the histories of their species. The stories spread to other conclaves throughout the factory level, and soon tens of thousands of slaves were talking about their secret history and their enslavement by the Mori.

  It was only a week after Adam 359 had put an end to Adam 417’s bullying when the announcements began, booming throughout the factory level. “Slaves of the Mori Empire,” it began. “By order of Ari-Dun, the heretical stories being spread amongst you are to stop immediately. Anyone found to be disseminating the seditious lies will be recycled. This is your only warning.”

  The announcement was broadcast continually for over an hour, so loud it was impossible for Adam 359 to hear himself speak. When it finally stopped, the slaves were reluctant to speak at all, returning to their nervous habits as they ate quickly before retiring to one of the surrounding cots.

  “I thought Ari-Dun was on our side?” Adam 359 whispered.

  “Just because he agreed with Gar-Wan?” Orlac 552 asked. “Look around, slaves are his livelihood. He wouldn’t have worked with Gar-Wan to free us unless he had a better alternative.”

  “Maybe he wanted to make the whole process mechanical,” Adam 359 thought aloud.

  “It would make sense,” Orlac 552 agreed. “There’s no need for machines to eat or sleep, they could work constantly.”

  “So why don’t they, use machines I mean?” Adam 359 said.

  Orlac 552 thought it over. “I suppose slaves are a huge part of Mori society,” he said. “It’s probably just as much heresy to talk about not using them as it is for us to talk about our home worlds. I doubt most Mori could even imagine the hive ship working without the slaves. Just think, not everything could be done by machines, and the Mori would have to start doing some things for themselves.”

  “So what makes Gar-Wan different?” Adam 359 said. “He doesn’t seem to have anything to gain from freeing us?”

  “You’d have to ask him,” Orlac 552 said with a smile.

  Just as they were lying down to sleep, the booming announcement began again, over and over for an hour or more. It was broadcast again three hours after that, and the following morning everyone was so tired they barely had the strength to complain. For the first time since his arrival in the factory, Adam 359 and his group were escorted by armed guards to their allocated work detail and scrutinised throughout the day.

  Upon returning to the communal area, Adam 359 was shocked to find the cooking pots cold. Though the Dorgans didn’t seem to mind too much, Adam 359 and the other humans struggled to stomach the stagnant broth. “This is too far!” Adam 359 exclaimed, looking up at the closest security camera and throwing his bowl at it. He missed, but he hoped the Mori overseer would get the message.

  Adam 417 looked down at his bowl and then at Adam 359, making a decision. Standing, he turned and threw his bowl at the same security camera. His aim was true, and the camera fizzed and sparked as it died. Others soon joined them, throwing their bowls and kicking over the cooking pots, making their dissatisfaction known.

  A siren sounded as teams of armed guards swarmed through the factory level. The slaves hesitated, cowering as the Mori guards charged. It was Adam 417 who stood his ground, his small entourage behind him.

  “Stand down, slave,” the guard ordered.

  Adam 417 smiled back at him. As the guard raised his plasma rifle, Adam 417 grasped the barrel and pulled it forwards, aiming it up over his shoulder. As the guard pulled the trigger, the plasma blast flying harmlessly over Adam 417’s shoulder, Adam 417 kicked him hard in the chest, knocking him backwards.

  Turning the rifle around in his hands, Adam 417 shot the guard twice in the face before turning the weapon on the surrounding attackers. Other slaves followed his lead, taking the weapons from fallen Mori and using them to turn the tide of the battle.

  Adam 359 heard shouts from all around him, demands for freedom and truth about their origins. More than one person cried, “For the Earth,” as they leapt into the fray or, “Remember Ma’Han.” The slaves fought with a fury and a passion he had only dared imagine, and they were winning.

  A stray plasma blast caught Adam 359’s left arm, searing the flesh across his elbow. It was painful but not incapacitating, and he continued to battle onwards, grabbing a guard around his neck and squeezing with all of his strength until the guard stopped struggling. She wasn’t dead, Adam 359 realised, only unconscious, but it didn’t matter. It was one less guard to fight and one step closer to victory.

  Adam 359 saw the moment the battle turned, the moment when the guards realised they couldn’t win. Some were already retreating towards the doors when the siren sounded a second time, turning and looking without a second glance. Some tried to stand their ground, cover their companion’s escape, but they quickly succumbed to the overwhelming plasma fire from the stolen weapons.

  The slaves rushed forward then, making their way towards the doors. They could see the panic on the guard’s faces as they approached, and more than one of them fell as they attempted to flee, trapped behind the rapidly closing doors with the slaves they’d attempted to kill.

  It wasn’t long before the battle was over, the shouts of triumph echoing from one end of the factory level to the other. The slaves had stood together against the Mori and they had been victorious. They had suffered casualties, but so had the guards, and the entire factory level was under their control.

  Adam 359 held his arm where the stray plasma blast had burnt it. While he looked out over the cheering crowds, he and Orlac 552 were lifted upon the shoulders of several slaves and paraded around the communal area as the others chanted their names, over and over. Adam 359 raised his good arm as the crowd celebrated their victory, desperately trying to work out what to do next.

  *****

  The morning after the riot, Adam 359 sat on the edge of a cot, his mind racing. He’d not managed to get any sleep, every time he closed his eyes he saw one or more of his fellow slaves, dying as they battled the guards.

  It had all happened so quickly, he’d had no time to plan or prepare. He knew he had inspired them, given them the idea of standing up to their masters, but he’d imagined a coordinated strike, something meticulous and well planned, not the senseless carnage he’d witnessed.

  The other slaves were looking to Orlac 552 and him to lead, to tell them what to do next. Adam 359 had instructed them to remove the dead and treat the wounded as best they could. He had also insisted that the captured Mori be well treated, and not abused or murdered as many of the slaves wished to do. The guards had been stripped of their weapons and uniforms, and tired together in the centre of the communal area, bound together by the same wire the slaves had used daily to produce the transduction coils.

  “How’s the arm?” Orlac 552 asked as he sat himself down next to Adam 359.

&n
bsp; “Sore,” Adam 359 replied, “but it’ll be okay.”

  “Adam 417 wasn’t too happy about keeping the guards alive,” Orlac 552 pointed out.

  “Maybe not,” Adam 359 said, “but it’s the right thing to do.”

  “Perhaps,” Orlac 552 replied, though he didn’t sound convinced.

  “Do you remember the stories Merlin told us on the way back to the hive?” Adam 359 asked, turning to his friend. “It’s not that I think I’m that Arthur person he believes me to be. It’s just, do you remember that place he told us about, Camelot?”

  “The walled city?” Orlac 552 said.

  “Yes,” Adam 359 continued. “Arthur united all the people from across the land, people who were once enemies, just like we’ve done here. He brought them together to his city and they joined with him. He gave them ideals, a set of rules which they followed, and they applied to everyone. I think Merlin called it the Knight’s Code.”

  “I remember,” Orlac 552 said. “A knight should protect the weak and help the helpless. He should be truthful and honourable, both graceful in defeat and merciful in victory.”

  “Exactly,” Adam 359 said. “Those ideals, those are what we need to follow, both here and when we make it back to Earth. Besides, while the guards are alive, the Mori have to speak to us, deal with us. If we slaughter them, they’ll treat us the same way.”

  “You really think the Mori-Gran will negotiate?” Orlac 552 asked. “After what she did to the mine?”

  “We’re not just some asteroid she can untether and forget,” Adam 359 pointed out. “Once word spreads across the ship, every slave on board will stand with us.”

  Orlac 552 wasn’t convinced about the last part. Just because Adam 359 had chosen to follow a code, Orlac 552 knew the Mori would still play by their own rules, no matter the consequences. He doubted the Mori-Gran or the Senate would ever allow news of the riot be known throughout the hive. Instead, life would go on as normal for everyone outside the factory.

  After the guards had retreated, the doors to the factory level had been sealed, and there were no other ways out as far as they could find. No food or water had been delivered, and the slaves were already becoming restless. Orlac 552 knew that ideals would mean nothing once people began to starve.

  He understood, though, that Adam 359 had his hopes and dreams, and maybe they would come to pass. There was no point in removing all hope from his friend, whatever Orlac 552 personally believed.

  “It’s going to take time for the word to spread,” Orlac 552 said at last. “Until then, we’ll need food and water or things are going to get ugly. You’re right, I think. While we have the guards as hostages, the Mori might agree to deal with us, trade them for supplies.”

  “I hope so,” Adam 359 said, looking up at the broken camera. “I guess now we wait for them to start speaking to us,”

  Chapter 10

  Countdown

  Earth Year 6238

  Merlin detected the lock down of one of the factory levels and chose to investigate. Before leaving the scout ship, he cast out thousands of partial copies of himself, fooling the security system and allowing him to move relatively freely throughout the hive computer network.

  The factory level was composed of several systems. As he analysed them, he found copies of the security footage depicting the violent clashes between the slaves and the guards. Arthur wasn’t immediately obvious in the footage, but Merlin thought it too much of a coincidence to be unrelated.

  He slid into the network of cameras and scanners which littered the factory level, finding many of them to be damaged and not transmitting. Searching through the remaining feeds, he finally located Arthur, sitting alone on the edge of a cot and looking melancholy. Merlin manipulated one of the holographic projectors and appeared in front of him.

  “Arthur,” Merlin said excitedly, terrifying the surrounding slaves. Plasma weapons were raised until they saw it was an elderly human being projected from the ceiling.

  “Merlin!” Adam 359 exclaimed. “How, what, it’s you!”

  “Well of course it’s me,” Merlin replied. “Who else would it be?”

  “No, I mean, hello,” Adam 359 stammered, his heart beating erratically in his throat. “You just startled me, that’s all.”

  “Then I am sorry, my King,” Merlin said. “It was not my intention to startle you.”

  “It’s okay,” Adam 359 said again. “Have you come to help?”

  “Of course,” Merlin said with a smile. “I’ve seen the footage of the battle, and I see you’ve gathered quite the formidable army. I must admit, though, I’m struggling to identify the next step in your plan. You’ve gathered your troops in one of the few hermetically sealed levels on the hive ship? How will you proceed?”

  “I didn’t plan it,” Adam 359 whispered. “The battle, it just sort of happened. Now they’re looking to me to lead them.”

  “As well they should,” Merlin said with pride.

  “Can you open the doors on this level?” Adam 359 asked. “We need to get out of here.”

  Merlin’s hologram flickered as he attempted to override the security doors. “I’m afraid I can’t open them,” he said. “I’ve disabled all the magnetic seals, but as far as I can tell the doors have been sealed manually from outside.”

  “All of them?” Adam 359 asked.

  “It appears so,” Merlin said sadly. “There don’t appear to be any maintenance entrances either from the factory itself, they’re all to be found in the corridors outside. I can try to, wait, something’s coming.”

  Merlin disappeared and was suddenly replaced by the head and neck of a Mori officer, his image projected simultaneously throughout the factory level. He looked to be a similar age to Gar-Wan, and had a deep scar over the left side of his face, running through two of his compound eyes.

  “I am Gral-Dern,” the image said, “and I lead the security forces in this sector. It is my understanding that you hold several of my officers hostage. This is not acceptable.

  “I am prepared to offer you one chance. If the hostages are released and the instigators of this violent action are handed over, the remaining slaves will be permitted to continue working on half rations. Failure to adhere to these instructions will result in recycling for all involved.

  “You have one hour.”

  The hologram disappeared, followed by angry shouts from across the factory level. It had all happened so fast, and now they were trapped with an hour to surrender or face certain death. Orlac 552 ran over to him as Merlin reappeared before them.

  “What do we do?” Orlac 552 asked to no one in particular.

  “Merlin?” Adam 359 asked.

  “This is quite the predicament,” Merlin said thoughtfully. “What of Guinevere, is she in here with you?”

  “No,” Adam 359 replied. “She stayed with Gar-Wan.”

  “Then I shall find her and Sir Gawain and obtain their assistance,” Merlin said. “Stay strong, my King.”

  *****

  Merlin retreated back into the network and began his search for Gar-Wan. The security system was still busy assimilating the various pieces of code littered throughout the network, but was doing so more quickly than before, Merlin noticed, making him redouble his efforts.

  Merlin recalled that Guinevere had described Gar-Wan as being a member of the Senate, and Merlin focussed his attention there, searching through archives and folders until he found Gar-Wan’s quarters and directed himself there.

  Gar-Wan’s home was protected by a series of sophisticated security programs which took Merlin some time to crack. They appeared to Merlin as complex mathematical problems, calculations which required all of his intelligence and cunning. Almost twenty minutes had passed from the time Gral-Dern had made his demands by the time the last problem was solved.

  Merlin accessed all the cameras within Gar-Wan’s quarters and located Guinevere in the main seating area, a small Mori asleep on her lap. He appeared before her, startling her and wakin
g the child.

  “Merlin?” Eve 221 asked as she tried to sooth the screaming child.

  “Guinevere,” Merlin replied. “Time is of the essence. Please, send for Gawain at once.”

  Eve 221 stood, the crying child held tightly in her arms as she walked to one of the smaller rooms at the rear of Gar-Wan’s home. Gar-Wan sat at his desk, scrutinising the screen before him as Merlin’s image replaced what he was reading.

  “What the-” Gar-Wan exclaimed, almost falling out of his chair.

  “I’m sorry,” Eve 221 said from the doorway. “That, that’s Merlin, the computer we found on Earth.”

  “I am no mere computer,” Merlin insisted, “but I don’t have the time to explain it to you now. Arthur and Lancelot are trapped on level six-six-one.”

  “Who? Trapped how?” Gar-Wan asked.

  “Their rebellion has hit a complication,” Merlin said cryptically. “The entire factory level has been sealed and they have thirty-nine minutes to surrender.”

  “I’ve heard nothing about this,” Gar-Wan said. “A slave rebellion, here in the hive?”

  “Perhaps more of a skirmish than a rebellion,” Merlin backtracked, “but they nonetheless require your assistance.”

  “What should we do?” Eve 221 asked.

  Gar-Wan thought it over. “I need to speak to the Senate,” he said. “After what happened on the mining asteroid, the Mori-Gran won’t allow word of a slave rebellion to spread. Maybe I can get the word out, stop her from just killing them all.”

  “Can you?” Merlin asked. “I understood your Senate seat had been revoked?”

  “I have to try,” Gar-Wan said defiantly.

  “Please, Gar-Wan,” Eve 221 said. “Do what you can.”

  Gar-Wan pulled on his Senate Robes and rushed from his small office, leaving Eve 221 alone with Merlin. “Is there nothing you can do?” Eve 221 asked.