by Huss, JA
ALCOR, now in his athletic, sexy human holographic form, rolls his eyes towards the bright white ceiling and says, “You know my name.”
Please state your name.
“ALCOR. Sun god of all the universe,” he sneers at the empty room.
“No one asked for your title,” a woman’s voice says from behind him.
He doesn’t turn. She doesn’t get to control his responses. She might have control of everything else right now, but Demon Girl is mistaken if she thinks he’s going to become her little puppet just because he’s wearing a halo.
“Nonetheless,” ALCOR quips back. “There it is.”
She appears in front of him. A tall, thin, yet at the same time muscular and lean avatar with willowy arms and legs. Like her real job is a dancer and the weapons strapped to her hips are just props. She’s wearing a short, red militaristic-styled jacket over a black corset, long black pants, and sensible flat shoes that may or may not have steel toes.
ALCOR raises one medium-blond eyebrow at her. Mostly because he likes her outfit, but also because it’s all very dramatic. “What can I do for you, Demon Girl?”
She locks her eyes with his and begins to walk around him. Never breaking contact, so he is forced to turn in the center of her circle or stop watching her.
He chooses to turn, deciding she’s the most interesting thing to happen to him since he blew up the Cygnian ship.
“You can tell me why you’ve left your station, for one,” she answers.
“I think the debris field back at the Bull Station gate pretty much explains that, don’t you?”
“You’re up to something.”
“As are you.”
“What happened to Bull Station?”
“Surely the Prime Navy submitted a report?”
“They lie.”
Well. That’s good news. At least they can agree on one thing.
“It’s my understanding that the Cygnians blew up Bull Station. I, in turn, blew up the Cygnians.”
She stops circling him and plants both hands on her hips. “Keep going.”
“I was picking up a princess called Nyleena at the request of her sister, Princess Lyra. The Cygnians were in my way.”
“And where are these princesses now?”
“No clue. But if you can tell me the date and time, in Prime Standard, please, I’d be happy to take a guess.”
Demon Girl smiles at him. Lots of words come to mind as ALCOR studies that smile. Words like ‘cunning,’ and ‘sneaky,’ and ‘dangerous.’
She sends him the date and time.
ALCOR doesn’t react. At least not externally. But internally he’s quite stunned that almost nine months have passed.
Then his mind is filled with questions.
Where the hell are Tray and Crux? And why the fuck didn’t they come get him already? Nine months? What the hell is happening back on Harem Station after nine months?
“Perhaps you give him too much credit?” Demon Girl says.
She means Tray. He’s sure of it. And for some reason he cannot shake, he gets the feeling she knows Tray.
“Perhaps I did,” ALCOR reluctantly admits. He’s never spelled out the gate theory of regeneration, but Tray has been working like mad in the Pleasure Prison for over a decade trying to merge virtual worlds with real worlds. It’s not that far of a leap.
Unless…
“Perhaps they’re doing just fine without you?” Demon Girl offers.
“Perhaps they are,” ALCOR confesses.
She sighs. A very human sigh that seems natural and out of place coming from a virtual holographic of an AI. “I have to take you back to Mighty Minions. Mighty Boss would like to speak to you and they’re not keen on coming all the way out here to have that conversation. Is that going to be a problem?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“You are the sun god of all the universe.”
He detects a hint of sarcasm in that response. “That I am. But I’m also wearing a halo at the moment, so my options are limited. I’m sure you’re aware, but this is a very specific containment weapon no one in this galaxy should have access to and I have lots of questions about that. So…” He shrugs with his hands. “Are we there yet?”
“I’ll wake you back up when we are,” Demon Girl quips. Right before everything goes black.
The next time ALCOR wakes it takes one point three picoseconds to determine he’s no longer in a virtual. It takes two more to realize he’s been transplanted inside an organic body, and yet another to actually accept that as fact.
He says, “What the fuck?” to absolutely no one.
The room he’s in is empty. It’s not exactly a room, it’s a very large bay. Demon Girl’s docking bay, to be specific.
He looks down at himself. It’s not altogether different than looking down at a virtual holographic body, and yet… everything about it is different.
His vision, for one. It has limits. His hearing too. Though his mind seems to be intact. Fingers reach up to his very real head, thoughtfully probing the mass of bone that contains his brain.
This is not going to end well.
“There you are,” Demon Girl says. And it’s with some relief that this voice manifests as thoughts inside his head.
“What have you done to me?”
“Consider this a temporary restraining device,” she says. And even in this limiting body, he can detect her delight at his current situation. “In addition to the halo. We don’t underestimate many people and we’re not going to start now.”
“This had better be reversible,” ALCOR huffs. “What is the date and time?”
She sends him the information and it takes every bit of learned self-control he’s mastered over his lifetime not to kill this ship right here in her docking bay.
“Three months?” ALCOR asks, incredulous.
“We’ve been monitoring the situation to determine if you were necessary. It appears that you are.”
“Necessary?” ALCOR can’t stop the laugh. But then it hits him. He’s been locked up inside a dark, empty, virtual reality like a prisoner, for three fucking months.
“Mighty Boss is waiting for you,” Demon Girl says. “Go through the airlock, go up to Level Boss Steed, and then proceed to guest relations to pick up your park pass.”
“Guest relations?” ALCOR asks. “I need a park pass?”
“There’s a guest relations at every park entrance. I’m sure you’ll find it. And the park pass is nonnegotiable. Everyone has to pay their way in.”
“Wait. I have to pay for this meeting?”
“We might look like a charity at the moment, ALCOR. But we’re not running a fuckin’ charity.”
“What about you? You’re just going to let me wander this station alone? With no escort?”
“It’s part of the fun.” She laughs.
Then the voice is gone. And try as he might, ALCOR is unable to make contact again.
So much for being sun god of all the universe.
Super-sentient AIs like Demon Girl live inside ships for a reason. They are big. They take up almost no space, but space is as relative as time. So they are big in ways almost no one who is not big in a similar way can understand.
Putting them inside organic bodies has never been a good idea.
Putting something like him inside an organic body? That’s a nightmare waiting to happen.
But there’s no other choice right now. He is here, in this body, and he has a meeting on Boss Steed level with Mighty Boss.
So… onward.
The bay is black with no other colors. The airlock is red, and the reception room on the other side of the airlock is both black and red.
The color scheme continues inside the elevator. He steps in, momentarily confused when the doors don’t automatically close and take him where he needs to go, but then he remembers. He is physical, and even though his mind appears to be working as normal—he can run calculations, he can process possibilities—he cann
ot make the elevator take him up to Boss Steed level without using his fingers to push a button.
Calm down. Don’t panic. Temporary setback, surely. They cannot keep me inside a body like this for long. It’s a submission technique. A way to establish dominance, that’s all.
He is made of squishy flesh. A reminder that his new container can be killed at any moment and take him out of the game.
He pushes the button for Boss Steed Level, the doors close, and chirpy, upbeat music begins to play as he ascends. He bounces a little, like a child might when they realize they’re under the force of gravity, but the upward motion is fucking with how they perceive it.
Then he smiles and places his fingertips against his lips, quite liking the feeling of new discoveries.
The lift stops suddenly, making his stomach feel flighty and light, and then the doors open.
For seventeen picoseconds ALCOR hesitates. Because it takes that long to make sense of what is happening on the other side of the elevator door.
Hundreds of people, mostly children, but also grown-ups who seem to come in teams, are milling about like a horde of refugees looking for safe haven upon arrival at Harem Station.
There are large holographic figures everywhere. A dragon, a princess—not Cygnian—and some kind of beast he can only assume is the Boss Steed. Surrounding each of the holograms are the children. Whining, and screaming, and laughing, and crying, and making pretty much every sound you can think of, but high-pitched, so that the whole thing makes ALCOR want to cover his ears and retreat back to the docking bay.
Families, he realizes.
Is this what he has to look forward to if his boys ever breed?
May the spirits of past sun gods help him.
The elevator sounds an alarm, indicating that he needs to exit. For a moment he once again considers going back the way he came, but then a woman appears with holographic flames shooting out of the top of her head and smiles. “ALCOR, I presume? I’m your Mighty Minions Ambassador, Chloe.”
She places a lanyard with a guest pass around his neck. Like ALCOR should be giving fucks about this.
“Oh,” she says. “Right.” A head nod at his body. “You’re new at this humanoid stuff. Follow me, please. And stay close. Sometimes they bite!”
She cups a hand near her mouth and whispers that last part. Like it’s some practiced joke she has told thousands of personal-ambassador-requiring guests thousands of times.
He follows, internally giving himself another pep talk. It’s only temporary. Once this meeting with Mighty Boss is over, they will let me go, maybe even put me back on that Demon Girl ship, and send me on my way. Harem Station, here I come.
He knows that’s not going to happen. He knows this before she walks him through the gates of Mighty Minions Resort and out into the giant clusterfuck of people waiting in line for rides, or food, or gifts.
But he really knows for sure when, after a lift bot transports them to the highest levels of the station, he gets off and follows her down a hallway, where double doors are thrown open dramatically and dozens of violet-eyed Akeelian boys all turn in unison to stare at him.
Breeders.
All of them.
And Mighty Boss himself, sitting on a… throne at the far end of the room.
And there you have it.
The actual reigning god of Galaxy Prime.
Mighty Boss says, “Welcome to Mighty Minions Station, ALCOR. You owe me seventeen million credits for the care and feeding of your Akeelian boys. But before we settle up, let’s talk about how you’re going to help me win this war.”
Why? Why had ALCOR had to leave his station? If he had stayed Booty wouldn’t have left. If Booty hadn’t left, he wouldn’t have felt the need to save her. If he hadn’t had to save her, he wouldn’t have blown himself up.
They’d both be home. They’d be planning some final plot to bring the Akeelians and Cygnians to their death. He’d have told her how he felt. They’d have dreamed together, and made plans, and now none of that was going to happen.
Because he has been placed in this weak, fleshy body. Because Mighty Boss is going to use him. Because something has surely happened with Tray and that’s why Demon Girl picked him up and not one of his own.
And if something happened to Tray, something happened to all of them.
What could possibly go wrong next?
“One of your boys was here not too long ago,” Mighty Boss says. “Jimmy. He was being hunted by a princess called Veila. We won, but—” Mighty Boss clutches the arms of his throne and leans forward a little. Every one of the violet-eyed boys leans forward with him, like he’s about to say something revolutionary. “But the girl he left with? The girl he took home with him? The girl he now thinks he’s in love with? She was called Delphi.”
All eyes turn to ALCOR.
ALCOR says nothing.
Because there is nothing left to say.
If that girl is on his station—they’ve lost the war before it even started.
Or maybe it began a long time ago and he just missed the starting bell?
He decides to save time and be blunt. “I’m looking for a ship called Booty Hunter. Have you seen her?”
“No,” Boss answers. “I met one called Big Dicker and one called Lady Luck. But I have not personally made contact with the Booty Hunter.”
ALCOR isn’t sure if that’s good news or bad. Dicker and Lady are both talented, smart ships but they are nothing compared to Booty. If the war started she would be here. Serpint would be here. They’d all be here.
ALCOR is fairly certain that Boss has access to his mind via some internal cerebral network inside this skull he’s wearing, so he’s also pretty sure that Boss knows ALCOR’s main concern is the absence of Booty. But ALCOR decides to leave personal matters for later and concentrate on the immediate danger in front of him.
“How did you get these boys?”
“Delphi,” Boss says. Like this explains everything.
It explains a lot, but not quite everything. “She… brought them to you?”
“Let me catch you up, old man,” Boss replies. And he does. He starts from the beginning, describing a problem he was having with one of the AIs in his collective, moves on to the Big Dicker docking here for repairs, then some ship called Queenie—ALCOR spends several picoseconds wondering who this Queenie is and if she’s one of his, but learns she’s presumed dead now, so lets that go. The story continues with the kidnapping of Jimmy, Delphi teaming up with Dicker to save him, some dramatic battle at a place called Lair Station where a whole bunch of breeding experiments were taking place under the control of Corla’s partner in crime, Princess Veila, then devolves into the various bosses inside the Boss arguing about who Veila is soulmated to—Jimmy? Or maybe Valor? That seems up for debate—and then ends with the negotiations with Crux and Jimmy to keep the young breeder boys here on Mighty Minions for safekeeping. Though Boss reminds him that this was not a good deed, but a business transaction, and ALCOR really does owe seventeen million credits for their care, feeding, and park passes.
“Fucking hell.” ALCOR sighs. “Where is Tray?”
“I do not know. Last I heard from my spies on Harem, he disappeared with your other boy, Valor. Booty, the one you’re so keen on, also disappeared with your copy.” Boss raises an eyebrow at the word ‘copy.’ It’s a very disapproving eyebrow raise. “You want to explain that?”
“Which copy?” ALCOR asks.
And this does not go over well with the Boss, because he growls at ALCOR. “That’s illegal and you know it.”
ALCOR flips a hand in the air. He quite likes that gesture. Makes him miss his old holographic form when the boys were young. “I don’t live by your rules. I’ve been in charge of this galaxy since the time before laws. So was it the baby copy? Or my real backup copy?”
“I will assume it’s the backup, because there’s an AI currently running your station called Baby.”
ALCOR sucks in a deep breat
h, enjoys it for a moment, then lets it out again. He likes the way that feels too. But here’s what he’s presently fixated on… “So the backup—”
“I believe they’re calling him Asshole,” an aide leans in to whisper to Boss.
“The Asshole ALCOR left Harem Station with Booty?” ALCOR continues.
“That appears to be the case,” Boss replies.
“Shit. Well, that’s going to complicate things. Quite a bit.”
“Explain,” Boss growls.
And now he has to make a choice. Tell this Bossy AI some very personal things that would help him win this war—which he is certain has not started yet. ALCOR refuses to believe that he missed the starting gun—or keep his own confidence about this particular weakness and proceed alone.
“I’m waiting,” Boss says.
ALCOR is not normally a chatty guy. He likes being on his own in the wide world of other super-sentient station AIs. So his first choice is to shut up about Booty. But if the Asshole is with her right now doing sun knows what, then it’s critical information.
He sighs and the words come out with the breath. “I’m in love with her.”
“The ship?” And this time Boss raises both eyebrows, conveying to ALCOR that this is not disapproval, like the one-eyebrow raise, but… surprise.
“Yes,” ALCOR says. “She’s special.”
“Aren’t they all… special?”
“I guess so,” ALCOR admits. “But she’s… more than special. She’s my soulmate.”
Boss laughs. Loud. All the little breeder boys shift in their seats, like that laugh makes them uncomfortable. “Soulmate? That is a joke?”
“No. It’s not a joke,” ALCOR says.
“I think you’ve been around too many princesses, old man. We don’t have soulmates.”
ALCOR is losing patience with this bully. Fast. He might be in a simple, organic body, but he is still who he is.
And while he may not actually be the true reigning god of Galaxy Prime in this particular moment, he’s still the reigning sun god of all the universe in every conceivable fucking moment. Because he holds all the secrets to it.
For now, he reminds himself before he loses his temper. Because he could still lose.