A third of the Paladins are duplicated humans.
The last thing I heard was the sizzle of weapons.
How could this happen? The greatest race of humans infiltrated by the very falseness they sought to extinguish. A third of them were duplicated. Were we too busy looking to save the weaker human race, so consumed by protecting what we perceived as the less worthy, that we didn’t see what was in our own house?
Half the servys were gone when I awoke covered in lifepatches. We were overshadowed by the long legs of crawler guards, their legs anchored around us like a prison cell. Outside the circle the war raged on.
It was a slur of bodies and weapons. I blinked away the moisture building in my eyes just enough to see a dismembered arm beyond the crawler legs, the fingers still twitching like it was trying to grasp the evolver club just out of reach.
I blinked again.
More bodies were piled up and there were fewer servys. I was covered in sticky fluid that tasted a bit like clay. And there was one less crawler. I felt pressure trying to pierce the psychic shield the crawlers had erected. Where were they finding the strength to still attack? And where’s Spindle?
Another blink.
The servys were gone.
One crawler remained. And the pressure felt like someone standing on my skull. The bodies were stacked higher. The arm was joined by a boot with a bone sticking from the top.
The crawlers had joined the battle, spearing men with their legs or swiping them in half. My eyes were heavy, ready for another blink. The crawlers were battling each other like titans, behemoths piercing each other with deadly legs.
Why would they be battling each other?
One man moved swiftly through the mob, his weapon blazing as he cut, pounded and bullied his way in my direction, unconcerned with the battle around him, only where he was going.
Spindle… watch…
Spindle was somewhere; I could feel him in the room. He would heed my call, but I couldn’t get the thoughts clearly formed. There was too much psychic force leaking through the barrier, shredding whatever thoughts I could form. I reached for a lifepatch but most were spent. A stack of them was near my waist. My fingers crawled over the slick floor.
The mysterious Paladin was still slashing his way toward me, his weapons clashed with others and shields collapsed under his blows. The crawler guard did nothing. His translucent shield obscured what he looked like, but I could see his brown skin was bloody. I didn’t need to see the almond-shaped eyes to know it was Pon.
He crawled low to the ground, elbows and knees up, like a leopard about to pounce, and engulfed me in his shield, relieving the psychic pressure. Sweat streaked his face. His scar twisted beneath his chin like a snake. He wouldn’t look at me.
Pon spied the war outside the security of the shield. A small group of warriors was being methodically torn apart. The battle would soon be over but I couldn’t distinguish who was who in the melee. Their energy was too intertwined, impossible to distinguish one from the other. They all looked physically identical, brother fighting brother. Pon remained crouched, watching. He smelled like fear.
The floor quaked. The center of the room began spewing clay. A roar knocked everyone off their feet. The crawlers staggered. A shadow passed over us like a tidal wave.
Pon looked down. And then we were sinking.
The Predator
Pon cradled me like a child. The space around us was black and cool; the war faded away. I felt weightless, like we were floating. I couldn’t see walls or a ceiling; couldn’t even feel the wind against my face, just the humidity gathering on my exposed cheeks and tickling the end of my nose.
Pon’s heart beat against my ear, his chest drawing long, deep breaths like he was working hard. His essence burned hot. It was not the same energy when Pike was in his eyes. Pon was back.
Did he ever leave?
I didn’t think to ask him where he was taking me. Or why. I wasn’t sure I even had my eyes open.
Something hard pushed against my back. Tiny points of light coalesced in strange patterns swirling with darkness, then I realized there were knobby branches that looked black and the points of light were stars. The smell of the Preserve was unmistakable.
I had no strength to wipe the drops of moisture off my face. My head was against the trunk of the grimmet tree. Pon stood on the edge of the stone slab looking into the pond below. The moon cast its glow through the tree, draping jagged shadows across his face, making it appear he was wearing a mask. He looked tired and hungry.
Grimmets scurried out of the tree, observing us below. Rudder landed gently on my chest. I was much number than I thought. It wasn’t just strength I was lacking; I could barely feel the soft padding of Rudder’s feet. He lay against my neck without a word or a thought and shared his warmth.
“They infiltrated long ago,” Pon said, without turning.
I moved my lips but only grunted. Pon didn’t glance over, only gazed up at the moon. I waited a moment, gathered the momentum to push out a single word. “How?”
He nodded ever so slightly, acknowledging my question, perhaps editing his thoughts down to the fewest words possible.
“When I relocated Pike, I discovered something no other minder had seen. Perhaps he wanted me to see, or maybe he just couldn’t hide it any longer. The duplicates wanted us to have him, they wanted him to betray them, to give up their secrets so the Paladin Nation would win the public war, but in reality we won nothing. They were a thousand moves ahead of us.”
I wanted to ask why. Why would they want to be exposed? Why would they want their secret agent to give them up? But the answer was now obvious: The game of war and politics requires a chess master.
“We thought we defeated them.” He lifted his chin, exposing the edge of his jawbone. “All along, they were part of us like a virus, silently spreading the disease of falseness.”
He appeared lost in thought. I started to form another question, but Pon held up his hand so I would conserve my strength. It felt like he still refused to believe what happened, too. How could they spread throughout a population? It wasn’t like we could become one of them. They were more like artificial intelligence that assumed a moldable body that appeared human. They weren’t born and fed; they didn’t grow up like humans. They were just duplications.
“They,” he said, slowly, “we converting us, cadet.”
He took a moment to let me process this. He tapped the back of his neck.
“The imbed in our necks were being programmed to produce nanomechs like a mechanized tumor. Over time, the nanomechs would replace our blood cells and organs until our bodies were completely transformed into something that resembled a human. Until we became a duplications! In the end, we would become the enemy.”
It’s the predator you don’t see.
Our imbeds were nanomech factories that could produce synthetic white blood cells and repair nerve damage with manufactured connections. We had duplicating technology inside us! Am I still completely human? Would I know if I wasn’t?
“Why didn’t the Commander do anything?”
“I didn’t tell him,” he said. “I didn’t tell anyone.”
“Why would you do that?”
“It wouldn’t have mattered. They needed to see the truth for themselves.”
“They would’ve listened.”
“The Garrison is lost, cadet. The Paladin Nation is on the brink of collapse. We are the only thing that stands between the human species and the duplications. If we perish, all is lost.”
He exposed his eyes for the first time. He could hide from me no longer. I saw humility. Weakness. Vulnerability. He was imperfect, after all. He was human.
“The Paladins needed to see,” he said, “what they were becoming. No one could tell them.”
He breathed deep, again, closing his eyes. Rudder stirred on my neck. I could feel my toes and fingers.
“When I learned this from Pike, I returned to force your telekineti
c response the only way possible,” Pon said, speaking to the moon again. “I put you under duress, destroyed your identity, and exposed your true nature. I had to bring your powers forth, for it was you that would give them the sight. You weren’t ready for such knowledge, but time was not on our side. I betrayed you.”
“I saw Pike in you.”
“You saw my knowledge.” He looked at me. “You mistook it for Pike. But the Commander secretly believed I betrayed you. He believed I was sent to assassinate you, that I was a traitor. He sent minders to bore through my mind, seeking information about the enemy. I would’ve done the same, but he was not aware that the very minders he sent to harvest my thoughts were the exact enemies he sought to expose.”
Muscles flexed along his jaw. His eyes revealed the psychic agony he endured. His essence was faint, like color bleached from the sun. There wasn’t much left of him. They had drained him to find out what he knew. Only a shadow of a great warrior remained.
“The enemy has been waiting for you, cadet.”
“Why me?”
“You are the telekinetic one. They would replicate your DNA and quietly infuse Paladins with self-replicating code by stamping it into the imbeds.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. I would’ve done the same.
“But they did not expect you to bring forth the vision.”
I shut my eyes. What good was I, laying catatonic on the rock? All the power in the world couldn’t save us now, what good was the ability to see clearly? I had nothing left to give.
“How did they win?” I asked. “They were outnumbered in the arena, how could they possibly have won?”
“They are duplicates, cadet. They are manufactured beings that speak the language of technology. What is a crawler, mmm?” He paused. “What is the room?”
They were all nanotechnology; they were scripted programs made up of cellular-sized machines that followed orders. The duplicates managed to reprogram the crawler and turn them against their creators. And the transforming room! The Paladins were in the belly of the enemy at the end. The floor exploded and a tidal wave was falling on us when we escaped. We were being swallowed by the room.
“We created our enemies, cadet. We didn’t see what was in front of us. Who do we have to blame?”
The duplicates wouldn’t stop with us when there were millions of humans in the world. Why not give them all an imbed and start the conversion until no one got sick, no one felt pain, and everyone got what their hearts desired?
Thoughts of hopelessness seized my insides. I put them to rest, let them fall away like useless chaff and returned to the present moment. I pushed myself up an inch or two.
“We need to gather the surviving Paladins,” I commanded. “Call forth a transporter and get us to a hiding place. Get us somewhere remote, send out a beacon to all surviving Paladins. All is not lost, Pon.” I scanned the surrounding trees. We were in the open without weapons or protection. “This is the last place we need to be.”
Sensation returned to my legs. I pushed against the tree trunk until I was sitting up. Pon gazed back at the moon, breathing deep, like my father had, relishing the moment and not the least concerned our tactical position was horrible.
Rudder urged me to be still. I consumed whatever strength I had just to sit up. My pulse had weakened rapidly. If I had some lifepatches, I’d be in better shape.
“Pivot trained me.” Pon was still looking heavenward, ignoring my struggle. “He opened me to my potential. The Paladin Nation thought I would become his successor.” He turned to me and, for the first time ever, a faint smile broke the corner of his mouth. “I was only meant to guide you.”
How else would he know the underground tunnels?
“Pivot is older than our planet.” His tone was louder and stronger. “I don’t know who he is or where he came from, cadet, I only know him. And for that, I am eternally grateful.”
Pon bowed his head and his lips moved silently, as if giving thanks. The grimmets squabbled. Pon glanced at them. He shuffled away from the edge and walked down the slab.
“Why did he leave? Why not stay and fight, he could’ve defeated them himself.”
“Pivot didn’t need to stay.” He took the evolvers from his belt and they unfolded quietly around his arms. The palms of his hands were glowing blue, awaiting command.
“You,” he said. “He gave us you.”
Pon’s eyes remained open and soft, allowing me complete access to his admiration and love. Without him, where would I be?
And then the glare returned. The look of steel ridged his brows and creased his forehead. His lips pulled back, thin and grim. He nodded to me, slowly, deliberately, and turned his back. He flicked his wrists and three long whips slithered from each hand, the glow illuminating the surrounding forest. The whips crawled along the stone like snakes.
Several figures emerged from the trees, all dressed in Paladin uniform. The central figure was tall with broad shoulders, his hair short, nose flat. It was the Chief Commander. Com. The most successful Commander in the Paladin Nation. Keep your enemies closer than your allies, cadet. That way you always know what they’re doing.
Com stopped at the bottom of the slab. His six assassins continued forward, activating evolvers. Pon did not activate a shield. He stood between the enemy and me, completely vulnerable.
Brute force is the weakest response. But sometimes, it is the only option.
The Call
It was a beautiful battle.
They surrounded him, each engulfed in a glowing shield. There was no need to slice time; they were all capable of matching each other’s skill. They fought in ordinary time, as if the showdown was merely a ritual. Six to one, the fight was a formality. The ending wouldn’t be a surprise. Pon took the center.
They raised their weapon hands like a firing squad. Blue pulses blazed from their palms and converged in the center. Pon danced inside a furious storm of electrical whips, deflecting the impossible. The enemy stopped firing in order to power up their shields to block the energy Pon was deflecting back and in that moment he clapped his hands together. A lance emerged and spiked one of them between the eyes, the two-handed weapon too much for his shield.
The remaining enemies repositioned, allowed Pon to return to the center in ceremonial fashion. They aborted firing pulsars, instead charging with a variety of weapons. They came at him with staves and swords and scorching whips. He couldn’t guard against them all, but Pon parried and spun, simultaneously defending and attacking. The air churned and crackled. Shields buzzed and the enemies pressed on until another fell, this one cut in half. Pon wiped his face as he returned to the center.
Com watched as his men fell.
Perhaps Pon didn’t see the crawler emerge from the trees; did not sense it creeping close to the ground. It stopped near Com, swaying hypnotically like a praying mantis sighting its prey. Pon drove the enemies backward, but his back was to Com and his crawler. An enemy stumbled. Pon raised his hands to end the fifth assassin.
Com nodded.
One of the crawler’s legs darted, its needle-tip blurred through Pon’s chest.
Pon stopped, mid-strike. The enemies lowered their weapons. In reverence, they watched this warrior slide off the crawler’s leg. The evolvers unfolded from his arms. He laid face up, eyes on the glowing moon. His last breath gurgled, but he held it. Blinked. And then it leaked from his lungs. His eyes remained open.
All I could do was watch.
My vision had been fulfilled. I saw Pon’s death when I first met Com. If I understood what it was, could I have stopped it? Could I have changed the future, or were we all destined to our end?
I did not experience anger’s burn, nor the tension of hatred. I only felt the warm release of affection for a man that guided me to realization, a man that served life and had given his own. For that man, lying breathless and alone, I was filled with love. Pon would not ask that one ounce of energy be expended in regret.
But it was im
possible not to want revenge.
Pon is dead.
Com approached Pon’s body. The two reaming assassins stood at attention while he looked over it. The crawler jerked me to my feet. My head snapped back.
“Gently,” Com called. “We prefer him alive.”
The crawler’s grip eased, the leg still warm from Pon’s blood. Its spherical body pulsed like a beating heart. I wanted to destroy it for blindly following orders, but I could barely keep my head up.
Com kept his distance as the enemies approached. One limped badly; the other’s face was half-blackened from a near fatal strike. The crawler rose up and allowed them to walk underneath. Rudder stayed tightly wrapped around my neck.
The enemies looked hard, but their stares softened as they neared. They looked into my eyes, trancelike. Their last steps were mechanical and aimless. They leaned in, their lips moving silently.
“Beautiful,” the blackened one muttered.
They were mesmerized not by what they saw, but what they felt. It was everything they dreamed of. When all their orders had been completed and every command followed, the duplicates were still left void of life. They could learn to act like a human, to feel and do everything like a human, but they could never be. They would always imitate life. What they felt, when they gazed inside me, was the pure moment of presence.
“Step away,” Com said.
The two hesitated, but moved to the side. Com was wiping dust from his hands, staring at Pon’s body. “I would rather your trainer alive, but I don’t think he would’ve cared for becoming one of us. He would’ve been very problematic, yes.” He looked at me. “I believe it’s better it ended this way.”
“How could you do this?” I said.
Socket 2 - The Training of Socket Greeny Page 17