Earth Honor (Earthrise Book 8)

by Daniel Arenson

  Including the manual for the hourglass, she thought. Only HOBBS knew how many grains of azoth to spill through the hourglass. Only he could send her ten years back in time—just before she had killed Elvis. If she tried to operate the hourglass herself, Lailani was likely to end up crushed by a stegosaurus.

  Schroder sighed. "I've seen it all before. Young human falls in love with a robot. It can't be helped! Now you want him to remember you. A tale as old as time."

  "Um, yes, that's exactly it," Lailani said. "So, memories. You can save them, right?"

  "Too early to tell, my dear, too early to tell. Now be a darling and fetch me a coffee. The dark roast this time. And black!"

  Lailani blinked. Had he just ordered her to fetch him a drink?

  An android, however, stepped forward. Lailani realized that Schroder had been talking to this machine. The android looked like a Japanese schoolgirl; she wore a sailor suit with a red ribbon, black stockings, and a short pleated skirt. The mechanical girl bowed her head sweetly to Dr. Schroder.

  "Would you not care for some nourishing green tea, master?" she said.

  Schroder sighed and looked at Lailani. "Do you see this? Even she questions my orders." He turned back toward the girl in the sailor outfit. "Damn it, Mimori. Coffee. Industrial strength. Black. Lailani, you want a coffee too? No, nothing? Fine. Mimori, move, you hunk of bolts, move!" He tossed a sprocket at the android.

  Mimori smiled sweetly and bowed her head. "Yes, master." She rushed off.

  Schroder returned to HOBBS and began working with a screwdriver, removing panels. "I can feel your frown digging into the back of my head," he said as he worked. "Don't worry, Lailani. They're robots. They can't feel a thing. No emotions, just algorithms. Good outlet for my frustration. Remember, they might look human, but they're just machines. Marvelous, wonderful machines! But they have no more true feelings than a toaster."

  Lailani wasn't so sure. HOBBS had seemed to show her true friendship. Had it been merely an illusion, a trick of his programming, no more real than the way Robby had cleared his throat?

  Another thought arose. She spoke softly.

  "If they're just machines, why do they have human hearts?"

  Schroder paused from his work. He looked up at Lailani. "Not all of them do. Some have dog hearts. Bird hearts. I even have a few robotic fish with fish hearts inside. You see, I do not build regular robots here. I build memobots. And that's a trademarked term, mind you, so be careful with it."

  Epimetheus growled at the doctor, perhaps understanding his words about dog hearts. Unease crept across Lailani. If Epi distrusted somebody, so did she.

  "Memobots?" she said, frowning.

  "Memobots!" Schroder returned to his work. "I'll tell you more about them over dinner, shall I? For now, I'll focus on repairing this wondrous specimen. Ah, here comes the coffee!"

  The robotic schoolgirl approached, smiled sweetly, bowed, and held out a mug of coffee.

  "Enjoy, master!"

  Schroder took the mug, sipped, and spat.

  "Damn it, Mimori, too sweet! You know I like my coffee black. Did you forget again?"

  Mimori laughed. "I forgot, Master! I got you four sugars. I four-got. Do you get it? I made a funny! Did you enjoy my joke?"

  Bloody hell, Lailani thought. She must have Osiris's humor chip.

  Schroder groaned. "Mimori, show Lailani to the living quarters. She'll be wanting a bath and a fresh pair of clothes, no doubt." He looked at Lailani. "I'll keep working on HOBBS. Go, my dear. Rest from your long journey. My pets will take good care of you. I'll also send a robo-mechanic to the surface to tend to your ship. She looks like she needs repairs."

  "I'd rather stay by HOBBS, if you don't mind," Lailani said.

  "But I do mind, my dear. I'll be performing delicate surgery on HOBBS, and I'm not to be disturbed. Don't worry. Mimori will take good care of you. Go, Mimori, show our guest downstairs. And no more funnies!"

  The android took Lailani's hand—firmly. When Lailani tried to free herself, she could not.

  "Come now, Lailani," said Mimori. "We shall be ever such good friends. I will tend to you well. Come, we must leave the doctor to his work."

  Reluctantly, Lailani walked with the android. Epimetheus walked with them, his tail still thrust out in a line, a sign of his alertness and suspicion. Mimori took them to a lower level. Here Lailani was shown to a bathing chamber, where tiny flying robots lifted brushes, soaps, and sponges, washing her clean. She felt like a Disney princess, a coterie of birds and mice preparing her for a ball. They even gave Epimetheus a scrubbing, much to his dismay. Two small, fluttering robots brushed Lailani's short black hair, while others wrapped a towel around her naked body.

  "We have a variety of clothes for you to choose from," Mimori said. "Master Schroder has collected an extensive wardrobe for his robots. You might need to choose from the children's line—you are very small, did you know? We have many themed outfits. Princess gowns, sailor outfits, kimonos, and—"

  "I'm not wearing fucking princess gowns or skirts," Lailani said. "My old clothes are fine."

  She pulled them back on: tattered jeans, her belt with her gun holster, and a shirt with the words Gangsta Rap printed in Comic Sans over a rainbow. She placed her dog tags back around her neck. Though she only served in the reserves now, she still wore them every day. She was still a lieutenant, given a commission for her heroism in the Marauder War. She was still a soldier of humanity. Even here.

  "Let me show you to the smoking lounge," Mimori said. "You can wait for the master there."

  The android led Lailani and Epimetheus to a small chamber, no larger than her humble room back home. It was decorated in a Victorian theme—cherrywood divans, an upholstered armchair, and antique lamps with leather shades. Shelves held leather-bound books, pipes, tobacco boxes, and porcelain dolls with glass eyes. Old medical engravings hung on the walls, framed, showing the dissection of corpses. One engraving showed a human heart.

  Dr. Frankenstein would be comfortable here, Lailani thought.

  "Mimori," she said, "why does Dr. Schroder put hearts inside his creations?"

  The schoolgirl gasped. She stared at Lailani, and her eyes narrowed. "That is the forbidden question, mistress! You must never ask." She trembled. "You must never ask!"

  "Guess what?" Lailani said. "I just asked. Answer me."

  The android took a step back. Did a heart beat within her chest too?

  "I cannot," Mimori whispered. "He will know. He hears everything. He . . . he is a kind master! He treats me well. He will tell you everything. He knows everything. You must not ask forbidden questions! Remember Eve. Remember Eve!"

  Mimori turned to flee the chamber.

  "Mimori, wait!" Lailani said.

  But the android stepped outside and slammed the door behind her, leaving Lailani and Epimetheus in the Victorian lounge. Lailani yanked the doorknob.

  Locked.

  She grunted.

  "I've had enough of this shit." She drew her pistol, aimed at the lock, and pulled the trigger.

  Nothing happened.

  She checked her gun. It was loaded. She frowned, opened the gun, and found that a pin had been removed from the inner mechanism.

  "They disabled my weapon!" She blinked. "While I was having a bath. Can you believe this shit, Epi?"

  Her Doberman growled at the locked door.

  Lailani placed a hand on his head. "Epi, where are we?"

  The dog leaped onto her, and she hugged him. Against her chest, she felt his beating heart.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  "Hey, Baba," Addy said. "What did the Deep Being monk say to the hot dog vendor?"

  The elephantine guru stared at her, silent.

  "Make me one with everything," Addy said. "Ah? Ah? Nothing?"

  Crickets chirped.

  "Another Osiris joke," Marco muttered.

  The three sat outside the temple, eating breakfast, their only meal of the day. Addy was stuffing herself, cheeks p
uffed out like a hamster. The food was pedestrian—bread, porridge, and the same fruit every day—but Marco ate heartily, knowing there would be no more until tomorrow. Aside from several hours of sleep a night, and a few moments to eat, they meditated. Day after day of Deep Being.

  "This is worse than boot camp," Addy had muttered to him one night.

  In some ways, she was right. At least in boot camp, friends had offered some companionship, some relief from the hardship. But in other ways, she was wrong.

  "At boot camp, we learned how to kill," Marco had told her. "Here we're learning how to heal."

  Days of silence.

  Days of raging storms in their minds.

  Days when the baba refused to let them suppress their nightmares, their trauma, their haunting memories.

  For years, they had struggled to let things go. Here they learned to let things be.

  Marco shoveled another spoonful of porridge into his mouth. It was filled with nuts and berries the baba grew in his gardens.

  "Baba," he said, "before we begin practice today, I have a question."

  Baba Mahanisha sat cross-legged in the courtyard before his meal. Gently, he was lifting fruits with his trunks and placing them into his mouth. For an alien so large—he must have weighed ten times as much as Marco—he ate with surprising grace.

  "Ask, my pupil," said the baba. "I am here to provide wisdom."

  The question had been gnawing at Marco since they had landed here two weeks ago.

  "The other Durmians," he said. "What happened to them?"

  Addy gulped down her mouthful of bread. "And what are those giant robot statues down in the valley? And who are the creatures with lion faces we saw painted in the tomb? And did you ever encounter the grays? And why do hot dogs come in packages of ten, but buns come in packages of eight? And why—"

  The baba laughed, a sound like rolling thunder, and held up his four hands. "Many questions you have, young ones. Such eager, curious minds! But the Deep Being mind is calm like a tranquil lake, open to whatever winds may blow. I will tell you, for there is no forbidden knowledge for the Deep Being mind. It is a fool who thinks his mind full. A wise mind is like an empty pot, yearning to be filled."

  Addy leaned forward. "I'm ready for story time."

  And the baba spoke.

  At times, his voice was gentle. At other times, it rose louder, deeper, before softening into tranquil water again.

  For a long time, Marco and Addy listened.

  Baba Mahanisha was old, they learned. Far older than they had expected. For five hundred years, he had roamed this land. For most of that time, he had meditated, sometimes emerging from deep reflection to teach, then sank again into years, sometimes decades of meditation. But as a young Durmian, before becoming a monk, he had been different. Rough. Violent. A soldier in a war.

  Millions of Durmians had lived here then, building cities, raising temples and palaces, writing scrolls. They had forged a great civilization—great but unwise. The Durmians grew ambitious, haughty. Forever they wanted, craved, desired what they did not have, forgetting the teachings of the ancient Deep Being monks. They turned away from the Noble Path. They created technology. They built starships. They spread out in conquest. Always desiring. Never living in the present, forever reaching for the future. For a while, they had succeeded, had landed on their moon, had conquered other worlds, had spread their ambition. The conquerors grew mighty. And the monks remained in temples, their voices forgotten, their scrolls collecting dust.

  And then, the Durmians met a world they could not conquer.

  They met the Taolians.

  The Taolians too were an ancient race. They came from a nearby planet, a world orbiting a neighboring star. They too were humanoid, but their faces were those of lions, and they had the pride and fierceness of hunters.

  The two civilizations clashed.

  Nobody knew how the war began, who had fired the first shot. But once the war ignited, it burned with devastating fury. The Taolians were horrible in their wrath, a civilization dedicated to war. Their weapons savaged the Durmian fleets. Yet the Durmians fought back hard, Baba Mahanisha among them, and would not be cowed. They withstood even the cruelest punishment and rose again to fight. As millions died on both sides, the war showed no signs of slowing. For years, both worlds suffered and lost their sons and daughters to the inferno.

  Until the Taolians built their mechas.

  "The mechas?" Addy asked, leaping up. "You mean the giant stone warriors we saw?"

  "Those are but statues," Baba Mahanisha said. "Mere representations of the true horrors."

  The Taolians had built two, the baba explained. Only two. But two were enough. Two massive machines, each the size of a skyscraper. Within each mecha stood a single operator, and the mechas gave them the power of gods. The Taolians had named their twin terrors Kaiyo and Kaji, male and female, god and goddess of fury.

  The mechas destroyed the last of the Durmian warships. They landed on the surface of Durmia and destroyed the cities, shattered the monuments, and slaughtered millions of Durmians. The ancient civilization of Durmia collapsed. Its soldiers were put to the sword, and its survivors were placed in chains, forced to serve their Taolian masters.

  The masters raised two great statues on Durmia—stone likenesses of Kaiyo, holding his great hammer, and Kaji, holding her fabled Sword of Dawn. Forever these monuments would taunt the Durmians, would remind the slaves of their place. The true mechas returned to Planet Taolian. The stone guardians remained, idols to worship and fear.

  Baba Mahanisha was still young in those days, not yet a monk, a mere soldier witnessing the collapse of his world. For long years, he toiled as a slave, mining precious ores deep in the earth for his Taolian masters. For long years, his anger grew, his thirst for vengeance. He had not yet discovered the way of Deep Being.

  With a group of rebels, Mahanisha escaped captivity and stole a military starship. He led a mission to Taolin Shi, the planet of his enemies, dodging their patrols. He unleashed an arsenal of nuclear weapons upon the northern pole of Taolin Shi, melting the ice.

  The planet flooded.

  Taolian cities drowned under the waves.

  The ancient Taolian civilization was washed away.

  Yet even now, the war did not end. Even from the devastation, soldiers still rose and starships still flew. Survivors from both sides fought on, their planets in ruins. Fleets unleashed weapons of mass destruction. Millions died. For years, the survivors lashed at each other until finally only two soldiers remained.

  One Durmian—the bitter, scarred Mahanisha.

  One Taolian—a young soldier named Ling.

  Of billions, only they remained. Only two. Elephant and lion. Mahanisha and Ling, two old enemies, two last survivors.

  Durmia lay in ruin, its cities ground to dust. The neighboring world of Taolian remained flooded, all its treasures lost, all its people drowned.

  Finally the last two soldiers shook hands.

  Finally there was peace.

  Addy shed tears as she listened.

  "How horrible," she whispered. "Two entire species—wiped out. All because of a pointless war, and nobody even knows who started it."

  Marco lowered his head. "How close we humans came to such a fate."

  Baba Mahanisha lowered his head. "For many years after the war, I was angry, overburdened with grief and guilt. My own people had perished. I had caused the extinction of another race. The agony, the loneliness, the anxiety seemed too great. Often I contemplated taking my own life."

  Marco nodded. He thought he knew something of such a spiral.

  "In the long years that followed," Baba Mahanisha said, "I discovered the wisdom of Deep Being. I read the books of the ancient masters, dug up from our fallen libraries. For centuries I meditated upon their wisdom. I found enlightenment. I then dedicated my life to teaching others. I am old now, nearing the end of my days, but I have passed on my wisdom to many. Now I pass it on to you."

/>   Marco reflected upon this for a moment. In some ways, the baba's story mirrored his own. A soldier who had seen terror, who had exterminated his enemies, who had lived on while so many had died. Who suffered guilt, pain, deep terror, only to seek peace.

  Yet can I spend the rest of my life in peaceful meditation? Marco wondered. Or will my wars continue? Does Earth still face violence, and dare I return to fight? If the grays invade Earth, would I abandon my homeworld for the sake of my own peace, or would I return into the furnace of war?

  He spoke carefully. "Baba, the two mechas. The real ones, not the statues. Do they still exist on Taolin Shi?"

  The baba nodded. "They are drowned under the water, rusting away, covered with barnacles, forever relics of that war."

  Addy leaned forward. "Do they still work? Can you fight with them?"

  The baba shook his head, his earrings chinking. "Those of Deep Being do not fight, do not kill. They find no honor in war, in hatred, in destruction. We are beings of peace."

  "But . . . Baba, what if we need to fight for self-defense?" Marco said.

  "That is what I believed I was doing," Baba Mahanisha said. "Yet in self-defense, we inflict harm upon an enemy, only enraging him to further violence. We retaliate. The enemy strikes again. The cycle spins faster. Violence only begets violence. The student of Deep Being breaks this wheel. The student of Deep Being practices only peace, only love."

  "Even love of an enemy?" Marco said.

  The baba nodded. "You are not your thoughts. Neither is the enemy. Violence, wickedness, cruelty—these are dark clouds. Yet consciousness is never evil. There are no evil beings, Marco. Only beings who do evil things."

  "Oh, there is evil," Addy said softly, eyes haunted. "I've seen it."

  "You saw with your eyes, not with your consciousness," said the baba. He rose to his feet. "We are late for our meditation. All will become clear as we keep practicing. All your questions will be answered along your path. You have only taken the first few steps."

  Their lessons continued.

  For two weeks, they lay on their backs in the courtyard, gazing up at the sky, moving their awareness across every part of their body. On the first day, the baba taught them to focus all their consciousness on their toes, to feel all sensations there, to let the rest of the body fade. Finally they advanced to their ankles, and it seemed ages before they reached their pelvises. Long days of breathing in and out of every part of them, exploring their bodies with their awareness alone, discovering their strengths and flaws.