by D. N. Leo
“Children conceived during the Red stage of the transmutation process are the best human beings. You should reward yourself and Madeline for that.”
“I believe in nurture, not nature. Our children will grow up within our care and protection. They will turn out the way they want to be, not the way we want them to be. And they do not have to be the best just because they were conceived in a spiritual space.”
“A man in your position has to bring his children up the right way—”
“Did you?” Ciaran cut him off. “For twenty years you let me believe you were dead. You left Tadgh and me scrambling to live up to your expectations. You let Mother struggle on her own with a brat like me when she’d have been better off to smother me as a baby.”
Ciaran hurled the entire tea set that sat on the table before him at the wall.
“You still don’t handle your rage well, Ciaran.”
“The fuck I don’t.”
“I’ve been watching over you and Tadgh.”
“Right, stalking us using your EYE system. Did you see how many times Tadgh almost died in the last few weeks? Did you see how many times we were attacked when we were off guard? And you just watched for entertainment?”
“I cannot interfere. I can only observe. There are rules.”
“A man in your position has to do the right thing, don’t you? You would do the right thing by your world, whatever it is, but not by your family, the world you created and abandoned in the blink of an eye.”
Ciaran shook his head. He wanted to laugh at the coincidence of the expression the blink of an eye, but he speculated it wouldn’t erupt as a laugh but a roar of anger. The rage threatened to consume him, but he squelched it.
“Tell me if Mother is okay, and I’ll get out of your hair.”
“She is the Hostess here. She is quite well.”
Ciaran pushed up.
“Very well then. Goodbye, Father.” He walked toward the door.
“Do you think this is a familial matter?”
“What else could it be?”
“You passed the worthiness test. You could be the next Host of the Daimon Gate if you are interested.”
Ciaran cast a cold look at Conan. “Another fucking test? No, I don’t care, and I’m not interested.” He turned around again to leave.
“You’re not going to leave just like that, are you?”
“Trust me, you’ll want me to leave before I do a lot of damage to this place.”
“More than that broken tea set?”
Ciaran gave his father a blank stare. “If you have anything else to say to complete this formality, please do it quickly, Host of the Daimon Gate.”
“Don’t you even want to see your mother?”
“You said she’s well. That’s good enough.”
“So you trust me?”
“No. But Mother stuck by you for that long, so I figure she must love you. If she’s happy, that’s good enough for me.”
Conan nodded. “You’re a greater man that you give yourself credit for, Ciaran. You’ve seen the power of the EYE, you had full access, and yet you did not download the data.”
“I don’t have a use for the data. And I hope a man in your position would do the right thing, too.”
Conan nodded. “You don’t need the data for personal use. But if you are the King-to-be of Eudaiz, it will prove to be very beneficial to you. Why didn’t you take it?”
“That’s my decision and none of your business.”
“If someone wants to steal the data from the EYE, that is my business. Anything that happens inside this gate is my business.”
“I didn’t take the data. What else do you want me to say?”
“Conspiracy to steal is the same crime as actually stealing it. Within this gate, the penalty is death by a thousand lightning bolts.”
“I don’t see how this is relevant. I’m not taking anything. Consider this conversation finished.”
“If I asked you to press your left palm against a detective panel, would I find anything?”
Silence.
“Why are you protecting him, Ciaran?”
“I’ll talk him out of this.”
Conan laughed. “You’re too confident, Ciaran. Bran has been plotting this for more than thirty years, and you think you can talk him out of it?”
“If you knew, why didn’t you stop him?”
“The oblivion is a black hole. We don’t have access although it is a part of the gate and within my jurisdiction. We’ve been waiting for him to come out for a long time. Now he’s back inside the gate. I will take him before he exits.”
“I’m not helping you to get Bran.”
“You don’t have to do anything. Just stay here. I’ll send someone to get him. When we detect the device is from him, that’s will be the end of him.”
Ciaran shook his head and said nothing. He shifted his sore shoulder. “What if you don’t find anything on Bran?”
Conan was in the process of calling his people. He stopped. “Then I’ll have to let him go. But an operation like this is quite major. He is the current King of Eudaiz. Our council will question my conduct, and I will have to resign. I know he’s guilty. But if it is God’s will that he passes this time, then so be it.”
“What do you mean by this time?”
The door to the room flung wide open.
Jennifer sauntered in, more beautiful than ever. She wore a long white robe, and her face was radiant. Her eyes warmed at the sight of Ciaran.
Ciaran stood up. “You look well, Mother.”
“And you look terrible, Son. I know that passing the Daimon Gate for the first time is very taxing. But it shouldn’t have put you in such poor condition. Is that why you locked me up? So I would miss his visit, Conan?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Conan said.
“Oh, well, maybe it was just a bad luck then. I see that Bran is waiting at the exit. Would you let him go, darling? Ciaran, stay for tea with me, will you?”
“Mother.”
Conan continued to call people. He puzzled at the panel.
“I sent them on some tasks, and they’re busy right now. Do you need the troop for anything in particular? There is no fight simulation on at the moment,” Jennifer said.
Conan cleared his throat. “No, that’s fine.” He glanced at Ciaran.
“I sent my secretary to the exit to tell Bran and his people not to wait as Ciaran will stay for tea.”
“Jennifer,” Conan lowered his voice.
“They should have gotten the message by now . . .”
Conan rushed toward the monitor, and Jennifer grabbed him.
“It’s too late. Conan. Let Bran go.”
Conan grabbed Jennifer’s shoulders as if he were about to shake her. Ciaran snatched Conan and threw him against a wall. Ciaran stood in front of his mother.
Conan straightened up and let out a discerning chuckle. “Right. Mother and son team up. Like I don’t know what I’m doing here? I’m useless. I’m just so useless.”
“Why can’t you let it go, Conan?” Jennifer asked. “Everything will be fine.”
She approached Conan. Tears rolled down her face. It was the first time Ciaran had seen his mother cry. Conan wiped the tears from her face.
“I’ll resign. We’ll leave here,” Conan said.
Jennifer nodded. Conan held his wife tightly in his arms.
“Let’s leave. Forget about all this,” he whispered.
“Can you at least tell me what’s going on here?” Ciaran asked.
The monitor made a verbal announcement. “Bran LeBlanc requesting a call.”
Conan pointed at the monitor. “You see, he’s the one who’s not letting go. I’ll have to call this in. I have to catch him.”
“What did he do?” Ciaran asked.
“Don’t tell him, Conan. It won’t help.”
“He tested weapons on small stars in remote galaxies and killed billions of residents. D
o you expect me to see billions of people killed and ignore it just because it was outside of my jurisdiction?” Conan snarled.
“It’s not just outside of your jurisdiction. There’s a death penalty for interfering with any affairs outside the gate. You don’t even have soldiers. Bran is a powerful man. You have nothing but your good intentions, and those won’t be able to to save you.”
“How can I be a righteous man, a virtuous gatekeeper, if I ignore this opportunity to do the right thing by billions of innocents? Is that the sort of man you want to be with, Jennifer?”
Jennifer cried out. “I don’t want a saint. I am only a wife. I need a husband, and our children need a father.”
“Child. Not children, Jennifer.”
Conan punched the wall after these words slipped out of his mouth.
Chapter 142
After punching the wall, Conan turned back and approached Jennifer. She backed away.
“Don’t come near me,” she said.
Ciaran pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry, Mother.”
He looked at Conan. A searing pain raised in his heart. Whatever had happened between them, he still saw Conan as his father.
Ciaran remembered the data reported his mother’s ex-marriage to Bran. That meant he was Bran’s son. He looked at Conan. “I’m not yours then? I assume your jealousy plays a role in this attempt to arrest Bran?” Ciaran spoke to Conan.
Conan slumped into a chair and said nothing.
It was strange. His mother pulled him into her arms and held on as if she wanted to savor the moment for as long as she could. She kissed his cheek and his forehead. Then she released him. What was she trying to do? Ciaran thought.
“Regardless of how bad of a man Bran is, you love him because he is your little brother, Conan,” Jennifer said.
Conan nodded and put his head in his hands. “I’m sorry, darling.”
“Don’t be,” she continued. “The only way to end Bran is to illegitimize his qualification for the Daimon Gate or expose his attempt to steal the data from the EYE. The second solution is dangerous because if you can’t expose him, your head will be on the chopping block. On those grounds, I will not let either of you go near Bran.”
“If he walks out the gate this time, all those people he killed will never have justice. I’ll not have another chance at this. We have to get him now, inside the gate,” Conan said.
“You are not getting him with the data. I won’t risk you or Ciaran doing that.”
“I’m not a crystal vase, Mother.”
Jennifer glanced at Ciaran. He turned on his heels and sat down at the table.
“I’ll get him with the qualification. He cheated at the Red stage. If I can provide evidence of that, he will be disqualified from his kingship. While he’s still inside the gate, the penalty for manipulating the system for personal gain is death by a thousand lightning bolts. With his kingship disqualified, he will be ended at the source in Eudaiz, too. If you both want him to go down that way, I’m happy to assist,” Jennifer said dryly.
Both Ciaran and Conan gave Jennifer blank stares.
“What evidence?” Ciaran asked.
“The EYE’s data cannot be manipulated,” Conan said.
“You underestimate your brother. Your training to be the Daimon Gate Host was a secret to the multiverse, but not to Bran. He knew I wanted to pay you a visit and I missed you, but I couldn’t tell anyone. Bran told me he could lobby for me to go through the gate as Sciphil Six’s successor. It was just a play. Then I could go in and out of the gate to visit you. I was stupid enough to believe him.”
Conan stood up. Jennifer gestured him not to approach her.
“Bran was going through the qualifying process as the King-to-be of Eudaiz. He trained me so that I could go through the gate with him. We went through the gate and passed all the stages, and at the Red stage, he forced me to consummate.”
“What do you mean by him forcing you?” Ciaran’s voice was dangerously low. The pain pounded in his head. The heat of the Red stage still lingered in him. It was hell.
And he wouldn’t have passed if Madeline hadn’t gone down to look for him. He would have been forced to take another queen. Which he wouldn’t have done. And then he would have been killed.
Bran knew all this. He wanted to ensure he had the queen with him. Someone he could trust, and someone who foolishly trusted him.
There was no response from his mother, so he asked again, “What do you mean by him forcing you?”
“I mean that I didn’t consent to be his wife. But he manipulated the data and blackmailed the gatekeeper to cheat the system. Martin Chinxz was the gatekeeper. He took pity on me. He gave me a copy of the original data. He died a few years later of ‘natural causes’—you were naive enough to believe that, Conan!”
“If you show the council the original record, you will be charged with withholding it,” Conan said.
“Then I’d plead guilty. I was a victim. The penalty shouldn’t be too severe. Martin Chinxz died. I can claim fear, shame, or whatever reason you can think of . . .”
While his mother ranted about the plan to convict Bran, Ciaran broke into her portable databank.
He had activated and played the record of her original. She had passcodes and locks on the file, but opening these portable databank locks was child’s play for Ciaran.
As soon as the data came on the screen, his blood ran cold. “Is this the original record?” he asked and turned the monitor around so that his mother and Conan could see it.
He could see in his mother’s eyes that, although she had not watched it for years, the incident was still raw in her memory.
On the monitor was the scene of her being raped and beaten.
Compared to the hell that he went through at the Red stage and the condition of the creatures in the form of women who had been ripped of all dignity, his mother’s condition was far worse.
As the female companion, a contender to be queen, Madeline was well protected by his love and her love for him. They were unified. That was how they got through.
His mother had gotten nothing. She didn’t love Bran, didn’t agree to marry him, and thus shouldn’t have even been in the Red stage. Bran had only wanted a queen, and he didn’t love her. They weren’t soul mates. He couldn’t and wouldn’t have protected her.
He had merely wanted a queen to consummate so that he could pass the gate and became king.
His mother had been on her own, against everything and everyone in the gate.
The pain in his head was unbearable. He was afraid his fury would surface. But if it did, who would it kill?
In the corner of the screen was the text: Transmutation rebirth. Child conceived.
Ciaran shook his head. That child was him.
That was how he had been born. The best human being conceived in the Red stage of the transmutation process. Even the spiritual system disregarded human emotions. He had been conceived at the best astronomical moment and had inherited the best from his parents.
What could his mother have done apart from swallowing the truth and raising her child? If Bran could replace the data, what would be his mother’s chances of proving that her record was the original? Between the words of the King of Eudaiz and a young girl, foolishly in love, who had agreed to pass all other stages of the Daimon Gate test with her man, who would the authorities believe?
Jennifer charged at Ciaran. She slapped him in the face. “How dare you!”
Ciaran pulled his mother into his arms and let her cry.
He saw stars in his eyes. Black stars of fury. They needed to consume. They needed to kill. He needed to destroy.
Tears rolled down Conan’s face. He knew his wife had been forced. But he obviously hadn’t realized the extent of it. And he had not known about the record. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he did not believe her at times.
The record of the EYE was flawless. It was the best computer system in the cosmos. It was the system he had
sworn to protect.
After a moment, Ciaran asked, “Does Bran know about me?”
Jennifer shook her head. “He didn’t look at the original—he was in too much of a hurry to replace it.”
The computer announced Bran’s request again.
Conan punched at the control button. “Tell him just a few minutes.”
Ciaran picked his mother up, walked her to the room next door, and gently placed her down on a reading chair. He walked out, closed the door, jammed it from the outside, and ignored her cries to be released.
“I’m going to get Bran inside the gate for you. Do you trust me?” Ciaran asked Conan.
“But—”
“Do you want Mother to report that tape?”
“No, but—”
“I’ll need some data from the EYE. Just a little.”
“I can’t let you download any data.”
“If I can get Bran inside the gate, then everything should be fine, am I correct?”
Conan nodded.
“Then let’s do it.”
Before leaving, Ciaran said, “Again, I believe in nurture. I only have—and accept—one father.”
Conan nodded. “And I have two sons, both of whom I love more than anything.”
“Let’s keep it that way.”
Chapter 143
A moment later, Ciaran walked toward the exit, where Bran was waiting. He saw that Madeline, Zach, and Tadgh had been moved into the transitional zone. They could see into but could not re-enter the gate.
Tears streamed down Madeline’s face. She had an incredible sixth sense. She must know disaster was coming. Madeline, his wife, his children’s mother—she was beautiful. Ciaran wanted to rush to her and kiss her, but he knew it was best not to make Bran suspect.
“What took so long?” Bran asked.
“Didn’t you get the message? My mother was in there. She wanted me to stay for tea!”
Bran nodded. “As I suspected, she’s the Hostess, isn’t she?”
Ciaran nodded. “Can we go now?”
“I have to make sure that you got the data first. Once we are out of here, there will be no chance for us to get back to the EYE.”