The Circuit, Book 1

by Rhett C. Bruno

  CHAPTER NINE—ADIM

  The Things That Bleed

  ADIM sat upright in the captain’s chair of the Tribunal Freighter. A heap of bodies were piled behind him, a crusty tributary of dried blood snaking along the shiny floor from their position. He was in a state of stasis as the ship traversed a programmed route through the Ignescent Cell that would avoid contact with any Ceresian colonies or mining facilities. On a screen adjacent to him was a live recording of the ship’s galley. The six or so crew members locked inside it were seated sullenly at a table. It had been almost two weeks since he stole the freighter, but their defiance had faded shortly after the first day.

  ADIM, I have arrived at Ennomos. Should I be expecting you soon? Cassius spoke into his head.

  ADIM sprung immediately from dormancy. He hopped to his feet, his orbicular eyes brightening as there was once again a reason for animation.

  Creator, he responded. This unit will arrive at Ennomos Base in approximately 7 hours and 12 minutes. Was your business on Mars satisfactory?

  Extraordinarily so! I will be awaiting your arrival.

  The foreboding sense of detachment returned, but this time ADIM was not dismayed. There was work to be done. His Creator did not enjoy seeing the calamity of his undertakings, and so one by one he began hauling the corpses to the cargo bay. Once they were all neatly lined up in front of the access hatch, he secured the two containers of Gravitum to the floor and opened it. He held onto the wall as air rushed around his metallic frame as the change in pressure forced the bodies out. He watched for a moment as they tumbled into the vastness of space to be lost amongst the stars. Then he resealed the exit and headed toward the galley.

  When he arrived, he placed his hand over the password pad and set the door to slide open. The captive’s heads turned quickly, only to see the android silently striding through their confines. Only one of them dared to speak.

  “What did you do with them?” The engineer he had spared earlier sniveled meekly.

  “They have been disposed of, as required,” ADIM responded, not even bothering to stop and look as he passed to retrieve the cleaning supplies from the storeroom.

  “Required by whom? What are you going to do with us?”

  “Your fate will be decided by the Creator.” He retrieved what he needed and headed out. Without hesitation, he locked the humans in again and returned to the command deck.

  Once there, he got on his knees and with meticulous attention to detail began scrubbing every drop of blood. He retraced every trail of every corpse, discarded all of the debris, and even performed some repairs. When he finally finished, the ship was left so spotless that it seemed as if he was never there.

  ADIM resumed his position in the captain’s chair. Soon after a ruddy glob of rock loomed through the ship’s viewport. It was Ennomos—a small D-class asteroid, part of the Trojan Formation orbiting along the inner rim of the Nascent Call. It was a fairly remote place. There were some Ceresian mining facilities in the region, but none of vast importance. Ennomos itself had very little worth quarrying except for small traces of water ice, which meant nobody would ever bother to look there for anything. The stolen freighter couldn’t be brought to Titan where the risk of detection by Tribunal eyes was almost guaranteed.

  ADIM seized control of the freighter from autopilot, able to regulate every system simply by tapping through a single console where it would typically require an entire crew working in symphony. The station on the surface was discreet, built into a lengthy trough so that it would remain undetected by anyone who didn’t already know it was there. The hangar itself appeared like a flattened tube with a sequence of articulated ribs running across the top.

  The freighter soared smoothly into the crevice and traversed it until gliding through the mouth of the hangar. The reverse thrusters activated once it was fully inside, bringing it to a stationary hover. Then the massive hangar entrance sealed shut and the ship lowered down to land softly.

  ADIM wasted no time. He rushed to the cargo bay where he found his Creator already waiting.

  “ADIM!” Cassius proclaimed as he stepped up the ramp into the opened room. “I am glad to see you in one piece.”

  ADIM paused for a moment to try and formulate a worthy response. “This unit is satisfied to see you are in one piece as well, Creator.”

  “By the Ancients!” Cassius immediately turned his attention to the containers and ran his hand along the top of them. Each was a silver box with thin, blue, glowing insets. “This should be enough to finish, no?” He patted ADIM on the back before turning to head out into the hangar.

  “By my calculations, there is enough to re-supply a New Earth Cruiser six times over,” ADIM said. He began following behind Cassius so closely that if he could breathe, he’d be doing it right down his creator’s neck.

  “Help me bring them down?”

  ADIM stared at the containers for a moment, his eyes spinning. Then he reached underneath one, lifted it, and place it on top of the other. The containers dwarfed him, but he was able to bring them to his chest with such ease that one would have thought they were light as a feather. “723 pounds,” he declared after only half a second. “This unit is capable of transporting 4.3 times more weight if you require, Creator.”

  “I know. So could I in my heyday.” Cassius smirked, but ADIM proceeded out of the ship without responding. “I’ll lead you.”

  Together, they meandered down the lengthy hangar. It was a brightly lit space with cambered supports curving like boomerangs to support the tall ceiling. Besides the White Hand, there were five other freighters parked throughout, similar to the one ADIM arrived on. Each of them was powered down and in a different stage of being deconstructed by Gravitum Mining Bots which had been re-outfitted for assembly. They looked like thickly plated spiders, with their many limbs extending from a blocky central body. Containment tubes were fixed at the bottom of their cores, used to hold the Gravitum they would siphon out in small quantities from Earth’s mantle. Their many appendages made them perfectly suited for Cassius’ needs. They were also far more efficient than trading to acquire proper shipyard machinery along with the manpower to operate them.

  They reached a lift at the opposite end of the hangar. Cassius used the retinal scanner to open it and they stepped on.

  “The Tribunal Council is growing restless. A Ceresian attack on New Terrene was recently thwarted, and the council suspects that they are the ones who’ve been preying on their personal transports,” Cassius explained as they descended deeper into the crust of the asteroid. A self-satisfied look was smeared across his face.

  “Will they make a declaration of war?” ADIM asked.

  “Not so easily again. They will continue their attempt to bleed the Ceresians dry before electing for another war.” Cassius stopped and placed his hand on ADIM’s chest. “It will be up to us to provide the necessary impetus.”

  The lift opened and they continued down a hall. They passed by a door with a HOLO-Screen out in front which displayed a crowd of sickly looking people sitting inside. ADIM stopped and stared at the screen.

  “There are nine others aboard the new freighter,” ADIM said. “None appear to be a threat.”

  “We’ll bring them down here next. Unfortunate souls. They’ll be kept nourished enough not to die before we need them.”

  “Must they be alive, Creator? It would be easier to deal with them if they weren’t.”

  “Corpses in the cryo-chambers will teach us nothing. Once you see them, you’ll understand.”

  “Yes, Creator.”

  They proceeded down the hall and stopped at a glass door. There was a vestibule beyond it with a dense enviro-suit hanging from the wall. Through it there was a dark laboratory, illuminated only by a pulsing blue light on the far side.

  “This should be fine, thank you,” Cassius said as he extending his hand to signal ADIM to place the Gravitum containers down.

  ADIM dropped them and then quickly, but gently,
grasped Cassius’ hand. He noticed the half-healed scrapes along the knuckles. Taking time to observe and run his fingers over the wounds, he then glanced at his own arm where a seemingly fatal projectile had merely inscribed a shallow scratch in his plating. “This unit does not bleed.”

  “Next time you return, the weapon will be…” Cassius paused and gazed curiously into the radiant eyes of his creation. “No, ADIM, you don’t bleed.”

  “The Creator has bled. The humans I’ve injured all bleed. But this unit does not. Is this what defines life?”

  Cassius took a deep breath to gather his thoughts before he responded. “A tree doesn’t bleed, but that doesn’t mean it is lifeless. A system of mechanical parts doesn’t bleed, yet that doesn’t mean it’s not rife with purpose.”

  “Yet, this unit is not alive as the Creator is.”

  Cassius stood with his mouth hanging half-open. ADIM wasn’t used to him being left without words. He immediately began thinking back through their conversation to analyze if he had said anything wrong.

  “You need not consider such things,” Cassius responded warmly. “We are all alive in our own way. Yours may differ from mine, but there is no denying your strength. Your vigor. It doesn’t matter to me what you are, ADIM, so long as you are by my side.”

  “Please do not doubt this unit’s reliability.” ADIM stepped forward, as if to help express apprehension, which neither his face nor impassive voice could convey to a human.

  “Never!” Cassius grabbed ADIM by the arms and shook them with conviction. “I just meant that this universe is a vast, endless place. Don’t trouble yourself with the mysteries neither I nor any other can answer yet. For when this is all over with, we will seek them out for ourselves.”

  “Perhaps there are other units like this one?” The tiny lights around ADIM’s red eyes began to spin faster as he considered the possibility.

  “Even if somewhere in the Circuit there are some that look the same as you do, there are none like you,” Cassius admired. “You are unique, ADIM.”

  ADIM stepped back and his rotating eyes came to stop, satisfied with the response.

  Cassius slid his hand to the android’s back and began guiding him back toward the lift. “Now, let us go get the others before I finish our work on the Gravitum Bomb.”

  “Alone? Do you no longer require this unit’s assistance?” ADIM asked as they stepped onto the lift.

  “I long for it. But at this stage, I can finish from a safe distance. And my suit will keep me safe from any chance of exposure. Instead, there is one last task I need your help with before we can return home to Titan together.” The lift stopped and they moved out into the hangar where Cassius pointed left to a branching space where a small black and red ship sat. “You must take the Shadow Chariot to Earth and acquire the complete plans for one of the Ancient’s Plasmatic Drills for me. Only after testing Titan’s core will I resolve to use that bomb.”

  ADIM said nothing at first. His innocuous face could offer no indication of how he felt, but it didn’t matter. Though he may have valued the moments he shared with Cassius over all other things, in the end his existence was measured by a single directive.

  “This unit is pleased to execute the Creator’s will.”

  CHAPTER TEN—SAGE VOLUS

  For the Tribune

  Sage Volus’ eyes blinked open wearily. She squinted from side to side with blurred vision. A sharp line of pain shot down the right side of her torso as she rolled to her back, but it was nothing compared to how much her head was throbbing. It wasn’t unusual for her to wake with a slight headache. That was one of the minor side effects from the cybernetic implant latched onto her brain stem. Every Executor received one upon making their vows, and it served to improve such attributes as her physical reflexes and eye coordination. This time it was different though, as if a ten ton vice were squeezing in on her frontal lobe.

  It took a few minutes for her to acclimate to the bright, white room, but once she did she recognized it as the private medical wing of the Arbiter’s Enclave. A HOLO-Screen over a console at the wall monitored her heartbeat. Alongside it was a projection of her body that displayed a live examination of all her biological functions. In it her right arm was missing, and she nervously glanced down.

  From the neck down she was beneath a blanket. She quickly peeled it back to reveal her pale, denuded body covered with electrodes and wires. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that her artificial arm was still there. With her other hand she traced the bumps of a new scar running over her right shoulder. When she willed them to her artificial fingers wriggled in the same manner that they used to, only presently she could no longer feel the slight tingle at the nerve ending of her amputated limb. Whatever had happened to her had left her even number than before.

  “You’re finally awake!” Tribune Benjar Vakari said enthusiastically as he entered through a sliding door and locked it behind him.

  He wasn’t very impressive in stature, but his deep green tunic gave him a regal appearance. The emblem of the Tribune was stitched over his chest in gold, and a cloak draped over his left arm in a lighter shade of green. Gaudy makeup made him appear young from far away, but the thin goatee wrapping his smirking lips was peppered with gray hairs.

  “Your Eminence!” Sage anxiously pulled the blanket up to her neck to cover her breasts. Then she struggled to reach the edge of the bed so that she could perform a proper greeting.

  Tribune Vakari held out his arm to stop her. “Please remain seated,” he demanded.

  Not sure what to do, she clasped her hands together and bowed her head as low as she could manage before it pained her. “What in the name of the Ancients is going on?”

  “You don’t remember?”

  She furrowed her brow and fought her aching head as she tried to concentrate. Images of blood and flame flashed through her memory. She recalled falling, and then blackness, but nothing more.

  “Did I stop the bomber?” she asked.

  “You left him dead in the Core after you discovered the bomb on his person. Soldiers attempted to stop you in the Hub, but…” He paused and analyzed her face. Apparently satisfied with what he saw, he continued. “I was fortunate enough to have been there in time to restrain them, allowing you to trigger the explosive beyond containment. There was some superficial damage to the western vertical farms, but nothing we can’t deal with before we lose the crops. What are a few plants compared to the thousands you saved?” Benjar sat at the end of the bed and stretched his hand over her thigh. “A shame that the loathsome Ceresian met his end so quickly. It would have been beneficial to have captured him alive, but I do not doubt the will of the Spirit.”

  As he talked, Sage couldn’t help but see the fresh scars along the shoulder connected to her synthetic arm again.

  “That arm saved your life,” Benjar said. “Most of the remaining tendons and muscles around your shoulder had to be repaired, but the surgeons took good care of you, my dear. It should be fully operational again.”

  She sat up, the sudden motion making her woozy. “How long have I been out?”

  “You suffered a fairly significant concussion and your implant was slightly impaired. You’ve been under close surveillance for four days.”

  “That explains the headache.” Sage groaned and reached behind her head to feel the faint scar beneath her hair. It hadn’t been re-opened.

  “No surgery was necessary. We just had to reboot it from the outside. Give it a spark. Once it kicks back in, your tolerance for pain will return.” Benjar shuffled along the bed until he was positioned by her head.

  “I hope that’s soon,” she said as she squeezed her eyes shut to combat the soreness. “Thank you for helping with the soldiers.”

  “We got lucky I was nearby. You did well enough.”

  Suddenly, his lips came down to press delicately against hers. She didn’t fight it. She never did, despite the way it made her stomach turn. Goosebumps rose along her skin as
his hand passed gently through her hair. Hardly kissing back, she laid still as he positioned himself on top of her and began to caress her navel. She let her sight drift toward the light above her bed, receding into her thoughts as she always did.

  I am a knight in the darkness, a vessel of their wisdom. She reminded herself of the vows of an Executor to keep calm. I am the silent hand of the Tribune. I will not lose faith amongst the faithless. We are in eternal service to the Spirit of the Earth, which binds us. With the Tribune as our guide we will prove worthy of the home which breathed its life into us, life which we so selfishly brought to ruin. Extinguished will be the flames we have kindled. Light shall be the shadow we have bidden. The Earth will rise again.

  She repeated those phrases in her head as he began to slide her toward the edge of the mattress. Her shoulder got caught in the sheet, and the pain was enough to make her moan. He leaned the entirety of his weight onto her naked body, his elbow pressing against her ribs. She winced as he placed fervent kisses up her neck.

  “I can’t,” she wheezed. She scrambled further up onto the bed and pulled the blanket up over her. “I can’t.”

  “Yes…sorry, my dear.” Benjar pulled away panting. It took him almost a full minute to gather his breath. His cheeks were flushed and his lips were twisted into a scowl. “Even the mighty Sage Volus is not invincible,” he sighed. “On to business then.” He turned his back to her and began to observe the scans of her body on the HOLO-Screen.

  She continued staring blankly until the light above her grew blurry. It didn’t help the headache, but it was how she got through it. She could pretend she was sailing through space toward a distant star, or that she was standing on ancient Earth with the sun glaring down through a blue sky.

  “There is no doubt that the bomber was the scum of Ceres,” Benjar said as he straightened his tunic.