by Karl Morgan
“Excuse me, Eon,” a man in the front row squeaked. “But won’t Vanda be here shortly to destroy us all or take us to his planetoid? Also, what kind of life can we have here? All the metal has been harvested long ago. How can we rebuild without it?”
“You’re a very smart man,” Eon noted. “Perhaps you should be the new mayor of this town. What’s your name?”
“My name is Isfalon, and I’d be happy to be mayor if it would last more than the few hours we have left?”
“Well, Mayor Isfalon, first let me tell you that I have already harvested all the metal from the planetoid and robots that belonged to Mantarcus and placed them in holding areas around the planet. You don’t need that machine anymore! You have plenty of material to get this society going now. As for Vanda, he is already headed this way, but he will fail. Vanda will join me, run away in disgrace or die. But why don’t we ask him which way he likes best?” Eon closed his eyes and clapped his hands. A brilliant white light shot from his hands up into the sky. When it faded, another man was standing between Eon and Mantarcus.
§
The spidunk was shooting through space at unbelievable speed. It passed Opala’s fleet in the blink of an eye and continued toward Lubna. While it would take another two days for the fleet to arrive, the spidunk crossed the distance in less than one minute. It raced toward Fistnan so fast that the sensors on the huge fleet did not even register it until it had passed and hurtled toward the surface. The alert system was about to sound when it stopped instantly a few feet from the ground outside Elder Paranaxis Incatum Fodo’s home and drifted slowly down to the ground and turned itself off. General Fa-a-Di and Ambassador Charlie Watson had been visiting the Elder and all three rushed out to see what happened. It was an amazing thing. The spidunk was one hundred and fifty feet long and seemed to be made of gold, although the density readers on their sensors were off the chart. The front end was ten feet long and cone-shaped with a pinpoint tip flaring out to ten feet when it transitioned down to a three foot diameter and sixty-foot-long shaft. Another flare increased to fifteen feet for the remaining engine end, which had no opening for exhaust fumes. When the device finally registered on the Kong-Fa’s sensors, its external temperature was over ten million degrees. Now, only one minute later, it was sitting on the ground, silent and cold to the touch.
“What is this thing?” Fa-a-Di asked. “My sensors read the entire thing as one solid piece; although the density is so high my device can’t measure it accurately.”
“What would have happened if this thing hadn’t stopped?” Fodo wondered out loud.
“Half the planet would have likely been destroyed,” Fa-a-Di noted. “If my density reader is correct, one small piece of this thing has the same mass as the Kong-Fa. That can’t be right.”
“God has protected us from this vile weapon of war!” Fodo exclaimed.
“Not exactly,” said a voice behind them. They turned to see Odo Pak approaching them. “This device is called a spidunk. This particular one was inside the vessel of Mantarcus of The Accord, in direct violation of policy.” Odo walked around the men and sat on the device. “While Mantarcus never knew it, this weapon was given to him by Bandopaz Niderak.”
“Oh, here we go on the transcendence stuff again,” Fa-a-Di scoffed.
“Do not speak that way about Bandopaz Niderak, General,” Fodo snarled. “He is one of this planet’s greatest heroes.”
“I meant no disrespect, Elder,” Fa-a-Di said. “But a minute ago we were almost vaporized by this damned thing.”
Odo laughed. “Brother, we were never in danger. Mantarcus gave this weapon to us. He has abandoned The Accord and transcended like Bandopaz Niderak and Eon. The Accord fleet is headed this way, and he thought we could use this weapon, and perhaps create several more for our defense.”
“I wish we would have had this device months ago so we could learn its secrets, but I don’t think we can make more in the two days we have left, Odo,” Charlie noted. “However, if we could use it to kill some of the planetoids, the rest might run away.”
“We need to think our attack through very carefully,” Odo warned. “There are millions of people just like us on each of those planetoids. The spidunk would certainly kill the brain inside, but the atmosphere would be lost as well and those humans would die too.”
“Whom do we choose then? Do we save the people of Fistnan, Earth, Gallia, and the thousands of others, or do we sacrifice the lives of those slaves who are destined to be dinner in any event?” Fa-a-Di asked. “We’ve had this argument before.”
“Perhaps there is another way,” Charlie said. “I’m no physicist, but perhaps if we had this thing rotating on its axis at sufficient speed and sent it through the center of The Accord fleet, it might open a wormhole and suck them through it.”
“I’ll have our scientists work on it,” Fa-a-Di noted. “However, we might just be condemning another galaxy to their oppression. Or worse yet, they might go back to the past and kill us then!”
“And if the wormhole is only big enough for the spidunk, we would lose our best weapon, and The Accord would still attack us,” Charlie realized.
“Let us all go back inside and have a drink,” Odo said. “As long as we agree not to destroy the planetoids unless there is no other choice, we can have the scientists figure out the best approach. Oh, I almost forgot,” he said as he reached into his robes and removed a thick stack of papers. “These are the plans for the spidunk. Bandopaz Niderak gave them to me. General, perhaps you can take ownership of the documents. Unfortunately, they are written in Nan, but I’m certain we can get a translator here.”
Chapter 27
“Vanda, how kind of you to join us,” Eon said as the crowd booed.
“Would you just leave me alone?” Vanda shouted. He turned and continued, “So, Mantarcus, you are human again. What a fool you are!”
“Not quite human, Vanda, just as you are not human anymore either.”
Vanda grunted and turned again. “Ah, Dave Brewster, it’s good to see you again. I really miss our little discussions.”
“You are an arrogant bastard, Vanda,” Dave replied.
“Enough of the chit-chat,” Eon said. “Vanda of The Accord, I have told these people that you have three choices now. You can join Mantarcus and me, or you can run away and be forgotten by your precious Accord, or you can die trying to fight us. Which do you choose?”
Vanda smiled wryly and faced the gathered crowd. “I choose option four! I will kill Eon and Mantarcus. Then I will herd you all back onto my ship and feast on your dissolved body parts!” He turned to Eon and shouted, “What do you think about that?”
“Unfortunately for you, that option is not viable,” Eon laughed. “If that is your pompous way of saying you prefer death, so be it. It will be a tremendous waste, however.”
“You’ll be the dead ones, not me,” Vanda growled. He turned to Mantarcus and asked, “What have you done with the metal from your vessel? I had intended to harvest it for myself.”
“It’s already been dismantled and placed on this world, as will your planetoid as well.”
“Ah, you’ve done me a great favor; now there’s less work for my robots. When the planet is devoid of life again, I’ll just transport it aboard,” Vanda laughed.
“Brother, choose life!” Eon begged. “We three started this journey together so long ago. Now, you just need to let it go and join us. Our adventure is just beginning.”
“The Accord is the ultimate power in the universe, Eon. Your little fantasy will end in my liquefiers soon. Send me back to my ship so we can get this over with.”
Eon was crestfallen. His hopes to have his friends all join him had failed. Vanda had become more machine than man. “I regret your decision to die,” he said. Vanda only glared back at him. “Perhaps a little experiment before the end would help.” Vanda disappeared.
§
A tone sounded on Charlie Watson’s control panel and he pushed the flashin
g button. The smiling face of Captain Jon Lake was on the screen. “It’s good to see you again, Jon.”
“Good to see you too, Charlie, although Fistnan is not very safe these days. I’m sure Dave would freak out if he knew you were there.”
“Those are the risks of the job,” Charlie chuckled. “What’s up?”
“I’ve reviewed the drawings and written documentation for the spidunk and we can replicate it, although there are issues to contend with.”
“Such as?”
“First of all, the materials used are all pretty normal, but the method of forging is wild. The translation I have identifies the method as fusion forging,” Jon continued. “It appears they used a fusion plasma containment device to compress the metals to incredible density. We don’t have that technology, but I was thinking of using what we’ve discovered working on the singularity weapon to do the same thing.”
“Then it’s definitely not going to help us in the next two days.”
“That is for certain. But we are going to run some tests today to create minute samples of hyper-dense material. We’ll see what happens. Besides the engine, the rest of the device is like a big arrow. There are no explosives. I also don’t know how it knows where to go to avoid random asteroids, planets and suns. It seems to have a small fusion reactor for power that feeds some kind of magnetic drive. This is truly remarkable stuff,” Jon said. “If we can get enough material and are lucky with the tests, we might be able to have one built in a month. And that means we have to be really lucky!”
“And if we’re not so lucky?”
“It might stall like the singularity weapon. The big difference is the singularity explosion was a lucky outcome from my guess. With the spidunk, we have diagrams and detailed instructions. We’ve seen one in action and know what it does. That’s a huge advantage, even though the technology is esoteric. It has been made before and we have a functioning sample,” Jon related.
“Jon, no matter what happens on Fistnan, you and your team need to keep working on this. It will take centuries for The Accord to take over the galaxy. You have to stop them.”
“I have another concern though,” Jon noted. “Odo said some ancient guy from Fistnan gave him the plans. Believe me that this device did not originate there. Somewhere out there in the cosmos is a civilization that created the spidunk maybe millions of years ago. They might come looking for food and metal someday, just like The Accord. Imagine what their weapons look like now?”
Charlie smiled and replied, “We can only deal with one existential threat to the galaxy at a time. If, and I really mean if, we survive The Accord, we’ll just keep going forward, one day at a time. There’s nothing else to do. Take care, Jon.”
“You too, Charlie. Oti-Makla out.” The screen went dark.
§
“Captain, fifty thousand small robots have left the planetoid fleet and are approaching at extreme speed,” Commander Lia Lawson said to Captain Lauren London of the Nightsky. “The rest of the fleet is moving to engage.”
“Follow the fleet, Ali,” she ordered. “Frake, make sure all weapons systems are fully powered.”
“Aye-aye, Captain,” he replied. “Lia, did you say fifty thousand?”
“Affirmative,” she replied.
“How long before we intercept?” Lauren asked.
“At current speed, we have about four hours, Captain,” Ali replied. “The main force of the enemy is another six hours after that.”
Fa-a-Di’s face filled the left half of the viewscreen. “Captain, have you been briefed on the original attack on Zeet of The Accord?” Fa-a-Di was wearing the uniform of a Gallicean Marine, with red battle armor and four daggers hanging from his belt.
“Yes, sir, General,” she replied.
“That’s our plan again, Lauren. The Maklakar battle stations will launch their plasma bombs into the cloud of robots. I am coordinating with Commander Kalak on the precise spacing, which will likely change as we get closer. De-o-Nu will contact you with the section of the fleet where your blasters will ignite the bombs, understood?”
“I understand, General,” she said. His face disappeared from the screen, revealing the misleadingly serene scene of intergalactic emptiness. “Lia, make sure everyone has a chance to eat and refresh themselves before battle.
§
Vanda sat upright on the tiny cot. This was not right. He was still human, although he recognized this ramshackle section of the farmlands inside his station. It was still dark and he could hear men around him sleeping and snoring. “This is an illusion by that bastard Eon,” he thought. “He thinks he’s going to teach me a lesson in my own station! This is a dream and I’ll just ignore it.”
The lights suddenly switched on and the alarm bell rang out. Ten robots rushed into the room and began to pull the men from their beds. “Out of bed, you sacks of meat!” a robot shouted. “You have a long day in the fields today.” The robot approached Vanda on his cot, grabbed him by the arms and threw him across the room. “I said everyone up!” Vanda’s body knocked two other men to the floor, fortunately softening his landing. The other two jumped to their feet and headed to the door, while Vanda sat still, trying to shake the pain out of his arms and legs. “Get up, human!” the lead robot said as it approached.
“How dare you speak to me like that?” Vanda shouted. “This is my vessel you are riding in.”
The robot smiled, grabbed Vanda by the throat and pulled him up and over his head. “Ah, so you are Eon of The Accord now. You look just like a sack of meat to me.” The robot scanned the barcodes tattooed on Vanda’s arms and said, “Well, your markings say you are Vanda, not Eon. What a surprise!”
Vanda struggled for breath in the iron grip of the machine. “Eon abandoned The Accord! This is just a dream.”
“Well, Vanda of The Accord,” the robot laughed, “if you wish to be like our master, perhaps you could be part of his breakfast today.”
“This isn’t real,” Vanda wheezed.
The robot dropped him to the ground and laughed. “Get to work or I’ll take you to the liquefiers myself!” It turned and walked out of the room. Two men rushed into the room, helped Vanda to his feet and led him out of the barracks.
The morning was surreal. Vanda was working in a large field, pulling weeds from acres of lettuce. His back was throbbing in pain and his fingers ached and bled where the thorns of some weeds had cut his skin. The light was harsh and heat was unbearable. His simple shirt and trousers were soaked in sweat. “Okay, Eon, I get it,” he murmured. “Can this damned experiment be over now?”
A supervisory robot punched Vanda in the back and he crumpled and fell into the mud. “No talking, stupid.” Vanda struggled to his feet and wiped the mud from his face as best he could. His eyes stung from the muck. He grudgingly went back to pulling weeds. The intensity of the light was burning his neck and arms. Every muscle in his body throbbed in pain. What a unique experience, he suddenly realized. It had been so long since he joined The Accord that he had forgotten how frail the human body was. But there was something else about it too. The smells were incredible, from the plants, the soil, and even his body odor. His mind was intoxicated by the different aromas. His eyes were overwhelmed by the intricacy of nature, even here in a manufactured planet. Each weed he pulled had white, straggly roots seeking water and nourishment from the soil. Their leaves were long, jagged and covered by tiny spines. Some even had yellow flowers that had almost no fragrance. Each was much more beautiful than any of the metallic men who were guarding them.
An alarm rang and the men left the rows of lettuce to have lunch on the broad berm at the edge of the fields. They formed lines leading up to a serving robot that dished out bowls of food. Today was a special occasion, although no one knew why. Instead of the typical thin bean gruel, today they were served a hearty stew, and each bowl had several chunks of meat. Vanda took his bowl and sat some distance from the other men, not wanting to form any kind of connection to his feedstock. He to
ok a spoonful of stew and tasted it. His brain exploded with the sensation of flavors. He tasted the salt, carrots, and beef. Vanda was stunned by the sensation of taste. As a disembodied brain, he never tasted anything. Food was a source of nutrition only, not something to be savored. He sat in the dirt wondering how he had forgotten all of these things.
An old man walked up and sat next to him. He took a bite of his stew and said, “Not bad grub today, huh?”
“Leave me alone, old man.”
“Vanda, you hurt my feelings,” Odo Pak said. “I’m surprised you don’t remember me.”
“That’s right! You’re the friend of Dave Brewster, the one who stole some of my Friends and damaged my ship.”
Odo swallowed another spoonful of stew and said, “That’s better. It’s nice to be remembered. How is your ship now?”
“Tell me when this damned dream is going to be over,” Vanda demanded.
“What dream are you talking about? I’m not sleeping, are you?”
Vanda laughed. “Now you want me to believe this is real. I’m not that stupid! I am Vanda of The Accord, not a weak and puny sack of meat like this.”
Odo smiled and ate another spoon of stew, then looked across the fields. A few hundred yards in the distance, another crew finished their lunches and trudged back to work. The lighting was turned up to support more rapid plant growth. Odo had to shield his eyes by holding a hand over his brow. “Looks pretty real to me, Vanda,” he said at last. “Perhaps if you stay here another few days or years it will start to sink into that thick head of yours. You cannot win a fight against Eon and Mantarcus. Look what they’ve done to you already.”
“This isn’t real,” Vanda insisted. “This is some kind of mind control to make me feel empathy for my feedstock. It’s not going to work!”
“Who are you talking to?” said a tall gray robot as it approached him from behind.
Vanda looked about, but Odo was gone. “You have an appointment with the boss, Vanda. Get up and follow me now!” He was led back to the barracks and given ten minutes to shower and put on clean clothes. Then he and the robot took an elevator to the golden level. The robot shoved Vanda into the elevator car and the doors closed.