An electrical charge could explain what had happened to the others, all except Merlin. It might also explain why she couldn't communicate with them; if the charge had been sufficient to knock them unconscious, it could have just as easily shorted out the capsule. The nanobots inside would repair it eventually, but at least she was starting to put some of the pieces together.
Unconscious, that was the word she clung to. She knew any electrical charge could have done much more than that, but she refused to think of them that way. Why would someone have gone to all the trouble to bring them to the hive just to electrocute them? They could have destroyed the ship before it got close enough to dock if that was all they wanted.
Unconscious then, somewhere ahead, that was what she chose to believe. They were somebody's prisoner, bound and secured, and they were waiting for her to free them. All she had to do was get past the electrified floor.
Triltan clipped the rifle onto her back and removed the scanner from the pocket on her hip. Without the light from the torch the corridor grew dark again, but within moments the slowly sweeping beam from the scanner gave her more light than ever. The scanner highlighted the mesh, making it visible with her naked eyes, and she was also able to trace the electrical conduits which powered it.
The closest conduit was behind a desk to her left, a small junction box housed behind a small panel. Triltan knelt down and prised the panel open, moving the scanner closer to the collection of cables and plasma fuses behind it. She scanned it quickly, identifying the circuit responsible for the electrical grid, and disconnected the cable from the corresponding fuse. There was no change around her, but the flashing red symbol disappeared from her vision.
“What happened?” a deep and intimidating voice said from the other end of the corridor. Triltan froze, her hand still holding the cable.
“Defence mesh is down,” a second, equally terrifying voice replied.
“Follow me,” the first voice ordered.
Triltan slid the scanner back into her pocket as quickly and quietly as she could. The desk offered little protection, and even though she was small it wouldn't take a genius to spot her hiding behind it. She considered reaching for her rifle, but she couldn't think of how to move it from her back without making more noise than she wanted too.
Her mind was a flurry of thoughts, each more urgent and insistent than the last. She wanted to run, to flee back to the safety of the ship and call her father to come and rescue her. She wanted to help her friends, to be just as brave and courageous as they were. She wanted the strength to fight off those who were coming, but equally the thought of hurting them terrified her. Most of all she wanted to know exactly what to do, what the right choice was, with all the certainty her father and Arthur seemed to possess.
Light appeared in the corridor ahead of her, then another, handheld torches mounted on weapons like her own. She couldn't make out who was carrying them, but they were getting closer with every beat of her heart, and the time had come for her to act. She took a deep breath and steadied herself, deciding on a plan.
*****
Arthur dusted himself off as he got to his feet, pausing to offer a hand to Merlin. Merlin took it gratefully and allowed himself to be pulled upright.
The guards who had deposited them in the mud had turned and closed the large wooden door leading into the castle, standing before it like unmovable sentries. Once Merlin was securely on his feet, Arthur stormed forwards, shouting at the guards who barred his path.
“Let us back in there!” he demanded. “You can't keep them locked up like that!”
The two guards remained standing, looking past Arthur and towards the street, hands resting comfortably on the hilts of their swords. Arthur pushed hard against the closest guard's breast plate, but it was like pushing against a brick wall. The guard didn't even register that Arthur had touched him, but as Arthur tried to step around the guard, a hand suddenly grasped him in a vice-like grip.
“The castle is off-limits until you return with the Grail,” the guard announced in a deep baritone, lacking inflection, and with a swift movement Arthur was once again propelled to the street.
“We won't be able to return that way,” Merlin said, shaking his robes to loosen the mud. “The guards are programs, part of the simulation. You won't be able to fight them like that.”
Arthur was momentarily offended by what Merlin said but he accepted the truth of it. The guards weren't real Mori, like the jailer or the people around them giving them questioning looks. They were all identical, stronger and faster than any Mori alive, and most likely resilient to harm. If Arthur was to strike one or cut them down, would they even register the damage?
“What do you suggest?” Arthur said, more angrily than he intended.
“Come, walk a while,” Merlin replied, smiling knowingly. Arthur offered him a questioning look, but Merlin only nodded and began to walk.
In some ways the Camelot of the simulation was similar to the fledgling community they'd left behind, but in other ways markedly different. While the streets were mostly well trodden dirt tracks, just like on Earth, the castle instead was made of roughly hewn stone, dark and imposing. It was enormous, the walls spreading left and right as well as rising three storeys and the castle keep was taller still, rising above the walls and watching over the city. Guards were to be seen everywhere, all identical and patrolling with regimented coordination.
The city itself was less imposing but no less impressive. The same stone that had been used to build the castle had also been used for many of the buildings, a ramshackle collection of all shapes and sizes. The streets between them were narrow and winding, and full of people, all Mori.
As Arthur turned and followed Merlin, the people continued to give them questioning glances, though none seemed brave enough to speak to the strangers in their midst. They all looked different and scared, so he suspected that they were real, trapped inside the birthing pods just like himself. It made sense, in a twisted kind of way. Mor-Dred had his programs maintaining order, but what use would that be to an insane megalomaniac like him? He'd need people to rule over, to control and persecute, and if they were all just simulations he'd never be satisfied.
Was that what Mor-Dred was now, a he? Merlin was a he, as real as any other of his friends, despite the truth that Arthur had learned. Did that make Mor-Dred a he too? He had more power and control than anyone else within the simulation, so it made sense to think of him as real. It was confusing and terrifying in equal measure.
Once they were several streets away from the castle, Merlin stopped and stepped under a narrow archway erected beneath two stone buildings. “I don't see any guards around,” Merlin whispered. “We should be as safe here as anywhere.”
“Don't you think Mor-Dred can hear us anywhere?” Arthur asked.
“Perhaps,” Merlin replied, “but if so, it doesn't matter where we speak or what we say. I'd like to imagine our captor built this simulation to be as real as possible, ignoring the iron fist he wields with his programmed soldiers of course.
“Either way, this is his game and for the most part, I think we have to play by his rules.”
“For the most part?” Arthur asked.”
“The game's rigged and there can be only one winner,” Merlin stated. “We need to make him believe that we're playing along. As long as we keep our wits about us, though, it won't be long until we're out of here.”
“Triltan should have called her father by now,” Arthur agreed. “We've been trapped in here for over a day already. The Ardent Dawn should be here in a week or so, and the scientists on board will be able to get us out of the birthing chambers.”
“Even so, I'm not overly keen on allowing Gwen and Lance to remain in Mor-Dred's company for any longer than necessary,” Merlin said.
“No,” Arthur agreed. “We need to get them out somehow. Did you have something in mind?”
“Not at the moment,” Merlin said with a wry smile. “But the day's not over
yet!”
*****
The guards dragged Lance and Gwen forcibly back through the antechamber and down the stairs to the castle dungeons. The jailer met them at the bottom, smiling gleefully as he twirled the heavy ring of keys around in his hand.
“Not everyone gets to meet his majesty,” the jailer said as he escorted them back their cell. “I bet you're feeling pleased with yourselves right about now?”
“Oh yes, ecstatic,” Lance said sarcastically.
The jailer laughed. “I don't know what you got to be upset about,” he continued. “His highness insisted on me keeping you alive, for the time being at least. That's more than what he said about the others down here.”
“Why would you help him?” Gwen asked. “We know what happened to the hive, the millions of people he killed.”
“Not me though,” the jailer said proudly. “He chose me, said I was special! Said he had a very important role for me, right here in the castle!”
“Jailer?” Lance scoffed. “That's important, is it?”
The jailer turned on his heels, looking up into Lance's eyes as he barked, “Important? You don't think what I do is important? I might have been told to keep you alive, but I wasn't told I couldn't hurt you a bit. As long as you don't die, that's what I heard.”
Lance stared down at him, neither man wanting to be the first to look away. After a moment, the jailer chuckled to himself and began walking again. With a nudge from the guards behind them, Lance and Gwen followed.
“I think I'm going to like having you two down here,” the jailer said. “Not many left of the others, they kept breaking on me. I thought, what with this being in a computer and everything that they'd be able to take a little more punishment. Seems I was wrong.”
“What did you do before the King appointed you jailer?” Gwen asked, her voice breaking as she imagined the treatment the other prisoners must have suffered. She'd hoped the other cells were quiet because they were empty, but to learn the reason why they were empty brought her no comfort.
“See, that's the, what do you call it?” the jailer replied. “The irony, isn't it? I was in a cell back on the hive, locked up for doing only what came natural. That's why the King chose me. I'd spent more time in cells than anyone else aboard the ship, said it gave me a unique perspective.”
“You were a prisoner?” Lance asked, his mouth going dry. “What did you do?”
“Nothing much,” the jailer said with a grin. “Just some killings, that's all.”
*****
Triltan stayed hidden, head down as she listened to the two men approach. The sweeping light from their torches made the corridor seem much brighter than she expected, and even though she was crouched behind the small desk, the reflected light from the walls lit the surrounding space more than she would have liked.
She desperately wanted to look up over the desk, to see how close they were, but to do so would have ruined her only advantage; surprise. Instead, she focussed on her hearing, listening to every footstep and ragged breath. After a moment she held her own breath, imagining that they were close enough to hear her, picturing them only steps away from the desk behind which she hid.
She had no way of knowing for sure if they were in position, but if she left it too long they'd be on top of her. Leaning forwards, she counted to three before reconnecting the cable onto the fuse. Nothing happened for a moment, and she was beginning to reach for her rifle when there was a loud bang and a flash of light from the other side of the table. A fraction of a second later, she was once again plunged into darkness.
The icon in her vision was flashing again; electrical danger. There was no shouting, no screaming, no erratic bursts of plasma from an enemy attack. Instead, there was only silence and the smell of burnt flesh invading her nostrils.
Leaning out from behind the table, she could see that the corridor was entirely dark, the light from the enemy torches extinguished. She held her breath once again, listening intently, but there was no sound of movement, only the low hum of electricity as it passed through the defence mesh. After a further moment's hesitation, Triltan finally removed the rifle from her back as quickly and quietly as she was able. She switched on the torch beneath the barrel of her rifle and aimed it out along the corridor, her finger held against the trigger and ready to fire.
The first thing she saw was that her plan had worked. The two Mori looked to have been thrown by the force of the electrical charge, slamming them against the walls of the tunnel. The were both unmoving and their weapons were cast aside, the lights attached to them either disabled or destroyed by the force of the blast.
She was about to take a step forward and investigate when the icon in her vision began to flash more regularly, and she stopped herself before she stepped onto the mesh herself. The device was still live, and though her armour may offer her some protection from the electrical charge, she was more than likely just to end up like the two Mori who had been approaching her.
That was almost it, she thought, taking a step backwards. No wonder my father's so worried about me.
After one last look along the corridor, she knelt back down behind the table, her gaze fixed on the two prone bodies in front of her. She allowed herself a cursory glance at the junction box, reminding herself which cable she needed to detach, before looking again along the barrel of the rifle. She knew it was the third cable from the left, and with a careful, probing finger she located it easily and pulled it from the fuse.
The icon in her vision disappeared instantly, letting her know she'd removed the right cable. She had no idea what would happen if she'd disconnected the wrong cable, and she was in no hurry to find out. After getting once more to her feet, she edged slowly along the corridor, her rifle aimed on the closest guard. Neither of them had moved but she wasn't taking any chances. She came to the guard's rifle first and kicked it along the floor behind her, the sound of scraping metal doing nothing for her nerves. With her next step she was stood beside his body, and she nudged him with her boot to see if he'd respond.
He was alive, she could see his chest rising and falling slowly with each breath. At least she hadn't killed them, which she found strangely comforting, and it also reignited the hope that Arthur and the others were still alive. The defence mesh was clearly designed to incapacitate intruders, not to kill them, and if Mordred wanted them captured alive it must have been for good reason. Chances were they were somewhere further in, unconscious but still breathing.
She hadn't met many Mori in the two days she had spent in Camelot, but from what she knew of the species the specimen in front of her didn't look very old. He was taller than her, but then so was almost everyone on Earth, but he wasn't as tall as Arthur or Gar-Wan. His facial ridges, though prominent, were also wider than expected; another sign of adolescence.
After kicking him again, a little harder than the first time, she moved past him and checked on the second guard. He looked just as young as the first and was equally unconscious. After kicking his rifle out of the way she moved past him and to the foot of the stairs, climbing just enough to get a view of the enormous birthing chamber beyond.
It was just as Lance had described; thousands of individual pods in every direction, reaching up along the curved walls. She paused, listening intently, making sure there were no signs of movement before she returned to her prisoners. They were still unconscious, but she had no idea for how long. The effects of the electrical charge weren't permanent, and what would happen once they woke up? They'd come for her, and even armed she wasn't sure she'd be able to defeat them.
She checked the pockets on her armour, looking for restraints. The soldiers who had escorted her and the others on the Lambent Twilight had filled their pockets with various supplies, but she had never thought she'd need them. Apart from the scanner and a small supply of medical gel, her pockets were otherwise empty. She had to find something to restrain them, and fast.
Triltan climbed to the top of the stairs, turning to take in th
e enormity and majesty of the birthing chamber. Her initial view from half-way up the stairs hadn't done the room justice. It wasn't just enormous, it was breathtaking. There were more pods than she could count, stretching as far as she could see in any direction and as silent as the grave.
As she turned for a second time she spotted a control station to the right of the stairs. There were no signs of anyone else so she ran towards it, hoping to find something there to restrain the two guards. The station was composed of a series of curved desks with large monitors above them, detailing information on various pods. Below the desks were sets of draws which she searched as quickly as she could. In the third draw she opened she finally found what she was looking for.
The restraints were black and composed of two circular metallic rings held together by a fixed metal bar. They were arranged according to size, which made sense she supposed considering the difference in size between Arthur and Gwen. She hadn't paid attention to how big the guards were, so she picked up a selection and hurried back down the stairs.
The two Mori were still unconscious but she didn't waste any time. With effort, she rolled the first guard onto his front and pulled his arms behind him, fastening one wrist and then the other. Just as she was about to attend to the second guard, she thought better of it and fastened the first guard's ankles too.
After she had done the same to the second guard, binding him just as securely, Triltan finally relaxed, securing her rifle on the bracket on her back. With a nervous smile and the guard's rifles tucked under her arm, she returned to the control station, ready to begin her search. Arthur and the others were somewhere close by, possibly still unconscious, and it was up to her to find them.
*****
As night fell over Camelot, Arthur and Merlin returned to the castle walls, trying their best to look inconspicuous. The guards continued to patrol atop the walls, and a small group had been posted in front of the main door. They saw the occasional passer-by, huddle under heavy cloaks as they went about their business, but for the most part they paid Arthur and Merlin no attention.
X-Calibur: The Trial Page 7