X-Calibur: The Trial

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X-Calibur: The Trial Page 5

by Jackson-Lawrence, R.

“Oh,” he said at last. “I think I know where we are.”

  “You do?” Arthur asked, never having seen a region of the hive which looked remotely like the room in which they found themselves.

  “I do,” Merlin replied. “The majority of the hive was powered down, all except the Birthing Chambers. Every pod was active, but they weren't growing new slaves.”

  “They all had Mori inside,” Lance said.

  “Exactly,” Merlin continued. “Do you recall the cerebral electrodes? The ones used to program new skills and memories?”

  “I don't think I'll,” Arthur began. “Wait, the pain? It's like it was before.”

  “Pressure over your temples,” Gwen added.

  “When I was in the network,” Merlin explained, “I noticed something unusual about the pods. The signals to the electrodes weren't just going into the brains, they were coming out again in a two-way connection.”

  “So what does that mean?” Arthur persisted.

  “Your brains,” Merlin replied. “They've been connected to the hive mainframe.”

  *****

  Triltan sat in the cockpit of the Vanguard, tapping icons on the screen in front of her. Half an hour had passed since she had last heard from Arthur and the others, thirty minutes since they were about to enter the birthing chamber. She considered contacting them, checking in, but decided against it. Her father had taught her of the importance of radio-silence on missions, and distracting those in the field at the wrong moment could get them killed.

  Even so, she was surprised they hadn't checked in already. The map before her showed the route to the birthing chamber; across the docking platform, through a large room and then along a narrow corridor. They should have reached the chamber by now, unless they'd run into problems.

  “Merlin?” Triltan said aloud, hoping that the AI would hear her. “Merlin, are you there?”

  There was no response, and after a cursory examination of the Vanguard's computer, she found Merlin was nowhere within the system. He'd gone to examine the hive mainframe, which would explain his absence, so why did she feel so strongly that something was wrong?

  She almost activated her capsule to contact Arthur and the others but stopped herself at the last moment. No, if she was responsible for something happening to them she'd never be able to forgive herself. Oh, what would her father do? He always had the answers, knew when to act and when to wait.

  He'd been right, she realised. She should have stayed on Earth or the Ardent Dawn, safe and secure and away from danger. She wasn't ready to be flying off with Arthur, Gwen and Lance on missions to the hive or anywhere else.

  But that wasn't entirely true, was it? She'd more than proven herself, deep beneath the frozen surface of an alien world. She'd been scared, terrified even, but then so had the others. They'd admitted as much to her after the giant creature had tried to kill them.

  She'd helped them then and she could help them again. They'd asked for her to come along; they believed in her. She could help them, she was sure of that and she'd do whatever was needed. She would face every fear she could imagine, rise to every challenge, but not just yet. First she'd wait, give them a few more minutes before she contacted them, just in case.

  *****

  “What?” Lance exclaimed. “We're wired into a computer?”

  “In essence,” Merlin replied.

  “And this is all what?” Arthur asked. “A simulation?”

  “A very realistic one, but yes, I believe so,” Merlin said.

  “Which explains why you can touch,” Gwen said.

  “Exactly,” Merlin agreed. “And judging by the appearance of our surroundings, I suspect we're supposed to be in the dungeons deep below Camelot. My Camelot.”

  “The message,” Arthur remarked. “Mordred and Camelot, it was all about this simulation?”

  “But why send it to us?” Lance asked.

  “To get us here,” Arthur replied. “We were right about it being a trap.”

  “And we've fallen straight into it,” Gwen said.

  “Merlin, can you access the network and get us out of here?” Arthur asked.

  Merlin closed his eyes but his image never faltered. He looked to be straining, concentrating, willing himself to move. “I don't seem to be connected to anything,” he said, the confusion evident upon his face. “I'm just, here?”

  “You can't leave the simulation?” Lance clarified.

  “No,” Merlin muttered. “Arthur, can you contact Triltan through the capsule?”

  Arthur thought about activating the capsule to contact Triltan, but as soon as the thought crossed his mind he was struck by a sudden increase in pain, a searing flame burning behind his eyes. His vision blurred as he groaned with discomfort, hands over his eyes as he wished for the pain to stop.

  “Arthur?” Gwen said nervously, placing her hands on his shoulder. She was shocked by how solid he felt, how real. The flesh was warm and his skin was sweating, a single bead running down his right cheek towards his jaw.

  “I'm okay,” Arthur said, grimacing. “Whatever they've done to us it's interfering with the capsule somehow.”

  “I'm sorry, my King,” Merlin said. “If I'd known-”

  “Don't be,” Arthur replied quickly. “We had to try, but it looks like we're on our own for now. If we can't get out of the simulation, let's at least see if we can get out of this cell.”

  Arthur stood gingerly, his legs a little weak, the chain between his ankles making it difficult to take more than shuffling steps. Lance and Gwen joined him, Lance's long arms helping to steady Gwen as she stumbled. Only Merlin remained where he was sitting.

  “Merlin, do you need a hand?” Arthur offered, shuffling towards the older man.

  “No, no,” Merlin said sombrely. He moved onto his knees, wincing at the pain from the hard stone floor. The chains felt heavy and dug in at his wrists, and for a second he found himself wondering why he had ever wished to have his body back. Surely it hadn't always been so painful?

  “Here,” Arthur said, offering a hand. Merlin hesitated at first, trying to stand by himself, but he eventually gave up and accepted the help. Arthur pulled him gently to his feet, steadying the older man as he grew accustomed to being upright. Gwen offered him a sympathetic look.

  “Don't you start,” Merlin grumbled. “I used to be as young and flexible as you once upon a time!”

  Gwen felt herself blushing and was amazed to find her cheeks warm as she put her hands on them. “I'm sorry, Merlin,” she said. “I didn't mean to offend you.”

  “No, I'm sorry,” Merlin apologised, shaking his head. “I'm not used to feeling so frail and helpless, but I shouldn't take it out on you.”

  “It's okay,” Gwen replied. “Let's just see if we can find a way out of here, shall we?”

  They moved as far as their chains would allow, running their hands over the walls. The stone was just as wet and slimy as it looked, leaving an unpleasant residue on their fingers. The mortar between the bricks was solid, and even with tools it would have taken days to chisel it away enough to provide an exit.

  Lance took his time on the door. It was made of a dark wood, covered by strips of thick iron with rivets to hold them in place. The small hatch near the top of the door was closed and locked from the outside, and there was no obvious handle or lock. Whatever mechanism unlocked the door, it was only accessible from the other side.

  While Lance was running his worm-like fingers over the door, Arthur turned his attention to the restraints. The shackles themselves were solid, locked with a bolt that only a key would remove. The chain was thick and, despite spots of rust, he was unable to damage any of the links. The large ring in the floor, to which all the chains were attached, was also secured in place.

  “Enough,” Merlin said at last. “We've been at this for hours and there's no way out of here.”

  “We can't just give up,” Arthur protested.

  “I'm not suggesting we give up,” Merlin clarified. “Just
take some time to rest. I'm sure we'll find out why we're here soon enough.”

  Arthur sat back against the wall, Gwen resting her head on his shoulder, but sleep was a long time coming.

  *****

  Triltan watched the countdown timer, ticking away one second at a time. Once it reached zero, she would have been waiting an hour since Arthur and the others left the Vanguard. There was still two minutes and twenty-three seconds to go and the tension was killing her.

  She'd put the artificial limit on her actions more out of desperation than anything scientific. She had been pacing the cockpit, checking the chronometer, endlessly debating with herself whether she should try to communicate through the capsules or wait a little longer. By giving herself a deadline for them to get in contact with her, she'd given herself a little breathing room before she had to make the decision once and for all. And then, of course, was the decision whether she needed to contact her father or Gar-Wan.

  Two minutes and sixteen seconds. She checked the timer again, making sure that it wasn't counting down more slowly than it should have been. The Mori system of time was different to that of the Teleri, but not so different that she wasn't able to relate to it. It was based on the duration of a planetary day, divided into segments to allow for the planning of meals, sleep and work. The Mori second was a little longer and the day a little shorter, but it followed a similar principle.

  Two minutes, just two more and then she'd have to decide. Call Arthur, Gwen and Lance, or give herself more time.

  Or go looking for them.

  She hadn't really considered that option, but it appeared in her mind just as the two minute mark on the timer appeared. Leave the Vanguard, alone, and venture into the Mori hive. Precisely everything she'd promised her father she wouldn't do.

  In exactly one minute and fifty-five seconds she would have to decide.

  *****

  Arthur was startled from sleep by the sound of the hatch in the door opening. He was on his feet and moving forwards before the tension in his chain snapped him back, pulling him to his knees. The chains had grown tangled during the night, effectively shortening their lengths. His movements woke Gwen and Lance, who began pulling back on their chains, shortening them further.

  “Stop!” Arthur shouted. “Just, stop.”

  “Arthur, what's wrong?” Lance asked as he took in his surroundings. “Hey! The hatch!”

  Merlin woke too as they worked to untangle the chains. Gwen had to stand and walk around Arthur while Lance discovered he had wrapped a portion of his chain around his leg. Once they were able, they moved closer to the open hatch, trying to get a view of who or whatever was outside.

  “Hello?” Arthur called. “Hello? Who's there?”

  As they watched, a tray was slid through the hatch, balancing precariously. None of them could see who was passing it to them, but Lance grasped hold of it before it fell. As he pulled it towards him, Arthur moved forwards, trying to see the world outside. He managed to catch a glimpse of a dark, stone corridor and a single burning torch before the hatch was closed and bolted.

  “Well, what did you see?” Gwen asked. Arthur told them, his tone heavy with disappointment.

  “At least they're feeding us,” Merlin said. “They want us alive, for the time being at least.”

  “I don't even feel hungry,” Lance said with surprise. “How long do you think we've been in here?”

  Merlin peered through the narrow window, high up in the wall. The sun was shining, though it was still low and close to the horizon. “Several hours, at least,” he said.

  “I don't feel hungry either,” Arthur commented. “Gwen?”

  “No,” Gwen replied. “But I don't normally eat half as much as you two.”

  “I don't think I've felt hungry for thousands of years,” Merlin muttered to himself. “But I would have thought you three would have felt something after so long. Is anyone thirsty? Have an overwhelming desire to empty your bladder?”

  The three of them looked over towards the bucket in the corner, the noxious smells hovering above it like a cloud of toxic gas. “I don't think there's anything that could make me use that bucket,” Gwen said defiantly. “But now that you come to mention it; no, I don't.”

  “Could that be the simulation?” Lance asked. “Disconnecting us from what our bodies somehow?”

  “That makes sense,” Arthur agreed. “To make the walls and the smells seem so real, they'd have to stop us from feeling what our real bodies are feeling.”

  “So how does that help us?” Lance asked.

  “At the moment, it doesn't,” Gwen said honestly. “If we can't interact with the real world, we're trapped in here until someone lets us out.”

  “Triltan should have called the Ardent Dawn by now,” Lance said. “We've been out of touch for half a day at least.”

  “That still leaves us eight days to survive in here,” Arthur reminded them. “What was on the tray?”

  Lance placed it on the floor between them. The tray was wooden, carved from oak, and had four wooden bowls placed upon it. Each bowl had a wooden spoon and was full of a cold, watery broth with pieces of carrot floating in it.

  They each took one, sniffing it first before inspecting it more closely. “Do you think this is safe for me to eat?” Lance asked, as he held a piece of carrot close to his nasal slits.

  “It's just ones and zeros,” Arthur replied with a chuckle. “This is just a simulation, remember?”

  “Oh, yes!” Lance replied with a smile before slurping down the broth in four large gulps. After a moment he smiled to himself, savouring a lump of carrot. “It's not bad, human food,” he said as he swallowed. “Better than the food from the dispensers anyway!”

  *****

  Triltan sucked on her bottom lip as the timer counted down. Three seconds, two, one, and then the beep as the timer flashed zero.

  One hour. They'd been out of contact for one hour and it was time for her to make a decision.

  Her initial reaction was to check the timer, to make sure that it had definitely been an hour. The rational part of her mind reminded her that she was just stalling, but she did it anyway, thoroughly, just to be sure.

  Yes, one hour had passed since Arthur and the others had left. No more stalling, she had to decide.

  Her options were simple. The first was by far the easiest; contact her father and wait for him to arrive. It would take days, but once he and his forces were aboard the hive nothing would stop them.

  The problem with that option, of course, was time. While she waited days for Caran Doc to perform the twenty-seven jumps from Earth to the hive, she could only imagine what horrors Lance, Arthur and Gwen would be facing. Even Merlin, she thought, trapped and tormented within the hive computer network.

  The second option was for her to go and look for them herself. She knew where they were going, and it was only a relatively short journey from the Vanguard to the birthing chambers. She could be there and back in half an hour, less if she wore her armour and not the environmental suit. However, she had promised her father that she wouldn't leave the Vanguard. Under any circumstances, he'd said.

  Her third option was to contact her father and then go looking, but once she spoke to him, he would insist again that she wasn't to leave the safety of the ship. He'd tell her that it was too dangerous, that she was his only daughter and he wouldn't know what to do if anything happened to her. He'd make her feel guilty for even considering it, and then she'd have to stay and leave her friends to their fate.

  And then he'd win. She'd stay aboard the ship, worrying but not acting, and then he'd come and take control. If Arthur and the others were safe, he'd be the hero. If not, he'd tell her that there was nothing she could have done, that she wasn't a soldier and that she shouldn't blame herself.

  But of course she'd blame herself, and part of her would blame him too.

  No, she wasn't a soldier, but Arthur, Gwen, Lance, Merlin were her friends. They were in trouble, and there w
as no one else who could do anything about it. No, she wasn't a soldier, but she was all they had, so she would have to be what they needed.

  *****

  The hatch opened suddenly, taking them all by surprise. They had been left alone since that morning, when the tray of broth had been passed through the hatch without a word. They had been waiting anxiously for someone to return, but as the morning slipped into afternoon their readiness had slowly devolved into impatient annoyance.

  “Stand up and step away from the door,” a voice said. As they watched, they saw two rows of eyes, eight in total, staring at them through the opening.

  “Who are you?” Arthur demanded. “What do you want with us?”

  The voice was male, Mori, deep and patient. The eyes didn't waver as he said again, “Stand up and step away from the door.”

  “Why are you holding us prisoner?” Arthur persisted, but the eyes continued to stare back at him. When the Mori began to close the hatch, Arthur said hurriedly, “Okay! Okay, we'll step back from the door.” The hatch froze where it was as Lance helped Merlin to his feet and the four of them moved closer to the far wall.

  More bolts were heard as they scraped against the surface of the iron door. Once the last bolt was released, the door opened fully, the hinges squeaking as it swung away from them.

  The Mori jailer who had been staring at them through the hatch was a little shorter that Arthur, with ill-defined facial ridges and a rounded midsection. He wore dark, loose fitting clothes made out of rough fabric, very different to the garments worn by Mori on the hive. Behind him stood two more Mori, both wearing medieval iron armour and with heavy metal swords hanging from leather belts at their waists.

  “I'm going to release your chains,” the jailer continued as he entered the cell. “You have an audience with your King.”

  “Mordred?” Merlin asked.

  “You are not worthy of speaking his name!” the jailer spat, striking Merlin across the face and knocking him to the floor. Arthur stepped forwards to retaliate until Gwen placed a restraining grip on his arm. The two guards had their hands on their sword hilts and looked ready for a fight.

 

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