Last of the Chosen (Spirit of Empire, Book One)

by Lawrence P White

  Words could not express the experience. Indeed, no words were exchanged between Mike, Jake, and the intelligence referred to as the net. Mike and Jake, having met this intelligence and sensing rightness, opened themselves up completely. Things simply became known. Through the net’s virtual reality they visited the Moon, each of the planets, even flying through the sun’s corona. The net’s perspective was strange to Mike and Jake. Energy patterns and flows of which they’d been completely ignorant were an integral part of its perceptions. And though many things were not fully understood by Mike/Jake, the Mike/Jake/Net combination filled in the gaps through intuitive cognition. They were a good team, though Mike suspected that the artificial intelligence would team well with any sentient being.

  “Time out!” Mike demanded. “Just who are you?” he asked the net.

  “I am an artificial intelligence designed to fulfill every need of the ship,” it answered.

  “I asked who you are, not what you are. Are you alive?” Mike asked.

  “I was created by the ship’s designers,” it answered.

  “But are you alive? Do you have a name?”

  “I don’t know if I am alive or not. I am called Resolve.”

  “Yet you refer to yourself as ‘I.’”

  “Yes. I know who I am.”

  “I sense a personality, something separate from the ship. Jake, do you sense a personality?”

  “Very definitely.”

  “The ship’s name is Resolve, but you are not the ship,” Mike said. “You’re more like a person. Are you a person?” Silence met his words. “Did you hear me?” Mike asked.

  “I can’t not hear you, Mike. I do not know the answer to your question. I have never been asked before.”

  “Well, you’re not Resolve. You’re you, and you need a name. Will you be offended if I give you a name?”

  “You would name me? I’m just a computer.”

  “I would, and you’re more than just a computer. I sense your personality, and I want the freedom to talk to you, to ask you questions, but I don’t want to just call you ‘the net’ or Resolve. We need to be able to talk to each other. I’m Mike, and the other is Jake. By what name would you like to be called?”

  “I’m usually referred to as ‘ship,’ but sometimes ‘the net,’ or ‘Resolve,’ I have no other name.”

  “Will you accept a name? Will it impair your function?”

  “I will, and it will not impair my function.”

  “Then I hereby christen you George. Is that acceptable?”

  “George. I have a name. I like it!”

  “So you can like?”

  “Yes. I am George now. Thank you for my name.”

  “Okay, let’s get this show on the road, George.”

  “You’re nearly done for this session. Hang on. Here we go.”

  George completed Mike/Jake’s introduction to himself and the ship by racing with them through every screen and workplace on the bridge. The screens and workstations were not needed by anyone wearing the helmet, but not everyone on the bridge was connected directly to George at all times. Simple commands and queries could be generated by more normal methods, and not just from the bridge but from various workstations throughout Resolve, including Mike’s suite.

  They were numb by the time George released them. He pushed Mike and Jake out gently, letting them sense their body first, then the helmet went black. Lesson one complete.

  Mike was elated, Jake somewhat subdued over dinner. When pressed for an explanation, Jake was forthright. >Wooldroo’s first love was politics and court intrigue, Mike, not star ships. I’ve been well endowed with his knowledge of politics, but now that I’ve been in the net, I’m much less certain of my ability to fly Resolve. My ability to get us all home is not what Otis and Daughter assumed. You’d better pay close attention. You seem comfortable with what we did today.<

  >Are you kidding? Talk about virtual reality . . . we were right there inside the computer. I want more!<

  Daughter remained distant during dinner. Mike made several attempts to draw her into conversation, doing his best to be sociable, but she chose to withdraw into herself, answering his questions with one or two word replies when she chose to respond at all. He studied her openly. She hadn’t eaten a thing, just pushed food around on her plate. Mike suddenly noticed tears coursing down her cheeks. What was the matter? She became aware of his study of herself, locked her gaze on him momentarily, wiped futilely at her tears, then simply stood up and left the room. He got up to follow, but Otis called him back.

  “What’s her problem, Otis?” he asked with Jake’s help.

  “She grieves, Mike.”

  Such a simple answer. It spoke volumes about her – and about himself. He had been so focused on himself that he’d failed to consider the needs of anyone else. Of course she grieved. Her husband had died, and Resolve had likely been packed with friends and acquaintances who had also died. And that wasn’t all. She was royalty, the galaxy her playground. How confining a ship must seem, particularly to one who had probably spent a life of instant gratification, servants at her beck and call, money never an issue when true wealth lay at your fingertips. She was spoiled, he knew, and with that thought came the realization that she was probably more out of her element than he was. Had she ever known struggle, had she ever known risk? Life on Earth was a daily risk for everyone, but as a rich woman pampered by her position within some immense galactic society, she would never have wanted for anything. Yet here she was, cut off from all of that, and all of her friends were dead.

  His own appetite suddenly disappeared. His heart went out to her, but he did not follow. He would be the last person she wanted right now. But he would not forget.

  * * * * *

  He and Jake got an early start the next day. George delved into ships’ systems this time, and it was in detail. Mike and Jake didn’t have to know every detail of how the systems functioned, but they did have to know how to resolve problems when they arose. Computers operated everything, computers that George conducted like a maestro, but he insisted the bridge crew understand the process as well. Mike and Jake would not likely ever get involved with these computers, but space was a dangerous place, and George demanded a certain level of competence from them.

  Daughter and Otis came to the bridge while Mike and Jake were in the net with George. The room was eerily silent. Mike occasionally moved or twitched, but that was all that showed. What was it like in there, she wondered? Her time for entering the net was approaching, and she was nervous. After a time, her thoughts returned to the friends and loved ones she would never see again, and her eyes brimmed. Otis went to her side and sat, his tail curled around his feet.

  “It’s hopeless,” she said to him later.

  “It is not hopeless, My Lady. We never give up.”

  “Look at him. Jake is just a child, and Mike hasn’t a clue. He has no concept of our difficulties, and he’s completely unprepared for what we’ve asked of him. How could I have been foolish enough to think this would work?”

  “You have not been foolish, and you will not lose hope. You cannot.”

  “Oh, Otis, I know you mean well, but everyone is dead, and now we’ve placed ourselves in his hands. He’ll never get us out of here.”

  “What about Jake?”

  “Have you ever heard of a Rider captaining a ship?”

  “No, My Lady.”

  “He’s a Rider, Otis. He’s not made for controlling. Why do you think I want to go into the net?”

  “I’ve never heard of one of the Chosen captaining a ship either.”

  “What choice do we have?”

  “We have Mike. Give him the chance he deserves. Never forget what he did for us that night in the desert, My Lady. His presence made all the difference. We would not be here now if he had not come to our assistance. There’s more to him than you see. I don’t have your Touch, but I believe in him. You’ve used your Touch on him, and he’s still here. You must hav
e sensed something.”

  “You know I cannot discuss what I learn through my Touch.”

  “You don’t have to. He might not be true to our cause – how can he be? He doesn’t know enough. But if he was not true to himself, you would have rejected him.”

  “He’s a barbarian, and he’s uneducated to our ways.”

  “I, too, am a barbarian, much more so than is he. Yet I function well in our society.”

  “And you have spent years learning.”

  “He doesn’t have years. He’ll just have to hurry. I believe he’s up to the task. He’s already proven himself to me, and he’ll prove himself to you, as well. Don’t forget, it’s been foretold.”

  “I have not forgotten,” she replied softly. She closed her eyes, remembering back to the words of the one she had named Seer. Her name was Krys. In a vision, she had seen Daughter lying at the foot of a ship’s ramp with Otis standing over her shooting at something in the night. With the vision had come the words of a riddle:

  “You will be so much more and have so much less. They will best you, but a man of dirt will come to your aid.”

  She had thought often of those words, not knowing their meaning. Now it appeared that the riddle had resolved itself. Krys had been so right in every way. The actual words she had seen in her vision had been “a man of earth, or Earth.” None of them had heard of Earth, and the name did not appear on Empire star charts. Krys had translated what she sensed the meaning to be: a man of dirt. Was Mike the man of dirt foretold in the vision, or was there another?

  “I so hope you’re right, Otis, but we ask too much of him.”

  “We ask what is necessary, no more.”

  She shook her head, feeling hopeless. The task ahead of her was monumental. “How will we ever reestablish the throne?”

  “We will do it one step at a time, one careful step at a time. If we fail, the Empire falls and there will be chaos. Give him a chance, My Lady.”

  “He is our only chance,” she breathed.

  The screens suddenly came alive on the bridge. That must be the lesson they worked on at the moment, she decided. Who was running those screens, the artificial intelligence, or was it Jake/Mike? She would soon find out.

  * * * * *

  Mike broke for a quick lunch, then he dove back into the net. Jake’s plan was to repeat the previous day’s experience for Daughter but in a different order for her. Since dealing with people was her specialty, though in Mike’s estimation her stature was highly overrated, her first experience would be to meet Mike and Jake on the net. That would be the least dangerous place for her to begin.

  They were all warmed up and ready. Jake had explained Daughter’s situation to George, and he emphasized the fact that Daughter might not adapt to the net at all. George would have to be very careful and be prepared to disconnect her instantly on command.

  George explained that while he would use every tool at his disposal to cushion her entry into the net, she could not just come in part way if she was to be a full crewmember. Nor, once in the net, could she meet just part of a person. Personalities on the net were all or nothing.

  They felt her don the helmet and waited while George ran his preliminary set-up. Suddenly she was there. Jake greeted her first, like a younger brother. Mike sensed her delight at meeting Jake for the first time, and she seemed genuinely happy to meet him in this manner, as a real person instead of an unknowable Rider. He gave them some time, then joined them. She instantly pulled back from him, afraid. He reached out a mental hand to her, offering her guidance, but she hesitated.

  “Will you let me help?” he asked lightly, letting her feel his happiness within the net and his oneness with Jake. “You are welcome here. Please join with us. Just, please, don’t use your ‘eye thing’ on me. We’re all equal in here.”

  “I . . . I don’t think I know how to be equal,” she answered uneasily.

  “You’ll learn. We’ll give you time, all the time you need. Things move fast in here, but it’s easier than you might think. Want to try something?”

  “What?”

  “Take my hand.” He reached out to her. She hesitated, then made herself take his virtual hand. They touched, and Jake joined them by taking her other hand in his. “Jake,” he said, “let’s fly!”

  They led her through George’s training routine, introducing splashes of information one sense at a time just as George had shown them the previous day. Personalities could not remain isolated in such an environment, and they shared in her wonder and joy of an aspect of life never permitted her before. To his surprise, Mike discovered that, though strong, even headstrong, her spirit had fragile spots. There was a dark place within her, a place jealously guarded, a place of emptiness she protected so effortlessly that she was probably not even aware she was doing so. He suspected this guarded place had to do with her recent losses: her husband, many friends, indeed a whole fleet, and possibly the Empire and her whole family. She had lots to be unhappy about. He knew the private place was there, he accepted it, and he respected her for choosing to keep her burdens private. In the end, he simply learned to ignore it.

  Jake and Mike just let her be herself. They took their time, always leading until she forgot she needed to be led, and as they’d hoped, her wonder overcame her reserve. She let her hair down and danced with them through George’s maze of sensory inputs, just as Mike and Jake had the day before.

  Mike sensed her smiling for the first time since he’d known her. She had temporarily forgotten her burdens, or maybe just put them aside for a time, but she seemed a different, happier, more approachable person than Daughter.

  Sensing his focus on her, she in turn focused on him, the virtual Mike Carver, not the physically overbearing, barbaric Mike Carver that she had met in the midst of battle. “I was not wrong in coming here,” she stated in wonder. “Everything is so clear, so simple and beautiful, not dangerous at all.”

  “Well . . . we don’t know that for certain. I’m not too worried about myself and Jake, but we have some major hurdles to clear yet. Look, I can’t call you Daughter, at least not here in the net. We’re all equal in here, we’re all crewmembers, and you’re definitely not my daughter. Can I call you something else? Do you have a name?”

  For the first time since he’d met her, she seemed lost. “A name? Someone wants to know my name?” She was well and truly startled, even flustered. “Otis calls me ‘My Lady.’ Will that do?” she asked uncertainly. Sensing his reluctance, but remembering she was in the net and could be anyone she wanted, she said laughingly, ”Oh, dear! This is fun! What would you like to call me?”

  “Well . . . I’ve been thinking of you as ‘Princess,’ but I’d rather call you by your real name.” Jake stayed surprisingly quiet during this exchange.

  “No. No one calls me by my name. ‘Daughter’ is a title bestowed years ago. It has been my name ever since. Call me Daughter.”

  ”I will if you insist. Can’t you tell me your name? Do you have one?”

  “Of course I have a name, but few know it.” She hesitated, then said, “I am Ellandra of the Chosen.”

  “Ellandra Chosen. Okay!”

  “No. ‘Ellandra of the Chosen.’ That is my name. The list of Chosen is very small.”

  He suspected a hidden message here but didn’t press. “Ellandra of the Chosen,” he repeated. “Nice to meet you, Ellandra. Uh, can I call you Ellie?” She digested his words, but it was clear to him that she didn’t understand. More, he sensed her insecurity with the whole name business.

  “No, you may not. I’m Daughter, or My Lady, call me one of those. Certainly not this Ellie. What’s Ellie?”

  “It’s a nickname, like Mike. My real name is Michael, but my friends call me Mike.” She was uncomfortable with this alien concept, but he sensed her wavering. He tried another tack. “Okay, how about just here in the net among us? It’s part of learning to treat each other equally. It’ll be good practice. Try it, maybe you’ll like it. Nice to meet y
ou, Ellie,” he said, bowing.

  Uncertain, she mentally curtsied. “The pleasure is mine, Mike.”

  It was time for the next hurdle. For her, people were the easy part. How would she do when she met George, a machine? Mike and Jake took her hands and called George, expecting him to simply be there instantly like he always was. Instead, he kept them waiting.

  They suddenly found themselves standing on a misty sea shore, their feet sunk in loose sand. Looking about, Mike noted that visibility was poor, maybe a hundred meters or so. Waves lapped lazily up onto the beach a few feet below them, creating a regular shushing sound. Then, a pounding sound, far distant, grew. Something was coming toward them.

  Mike felt Ellie’s hand tighten in his nervously as a dim shape appeared in the distance. It grew larger as it approached, and they all let out a mental gasp. Ellie was the first to recover, clapping her hands in childish delight at the galloping knight approaching on a great black stallion. The knight, dressed in armor from head to foot, a tall white feather streaming from his helmet, reigned in before them, dismounted, and knelt on one knee before her.

  “My Lady, Sir George at your service,” he stated gallantly.

  “Arise, Sir George,” she commanded easily. “Unmask yourself. I would see your face.”

  “Alas, Lady,” he murmured, downcast. “I have no face.”

  Her hand went to her throat. “I’d forgotten!” she exclaimed in horror. “How could I have forgotten? None of this is real. Yet you seem so real, your world seems so real. You all seem real. I’m so sorry George.”

  “This world is as real as your own, My Lady. Simpler in many ways, infinitely more complex in others, but it is just as real. Do not be sad. Be welcome to my world. And do not worry about my face. One of the benefits of masks is that you can use your imagination to your heart’s delight. I can be anyone you choose.”