The Sword In The Stone Page 2

  The two new portals above Edsall Dark could have been named after the Round Table or Vere CasterLan or any number of other things. However, not even this could be agreed upon by the representatives of the Round Table, who each thought their suggestion was better than the others. Every time it was about to go to a vote, shouting erupted. For Hector, Cimber, and Cash, the most infuriating aspect of those votes wasn’t that they were inconclusive, it was that they were taking place while an Excalibur vessel hovered above the capital.

  This indecision led to people coming up with their own names for the two portals, which were decidedly simple and unexciting. Because they were above Edsall Dark, one was referred to as ED1 and the other as ED2. Only when the representatives could come to an agreement might the names be changed to something more noteworthy.

  When the Round Table fleet returned, it came through ED1. Brigadier Desttro’s Hellship was the first to appear. It was followed soon after by a Solar Carrier, then an Athens Destroyer, then the first of the two Havoc gunships, and then the others. The last vessel through the portal would be the HC Ballistic Cruiser now under the command of General Reiser. Cheers went up through the streets of CamaLon as the vessels arrived back home.

  Julian had initially been content to allow the respective brigadiers to operate as they otherwise would have. After all, he was only aboard one of the vessels because his own flagship had been destroyed in the Orleans asteroid field. As they approached home, however, he had begun to think more and more of what his next steps would be. While he still couldn’t recall the dreams that stalked him each time he went to sleep—ephemeral memories of a figure in the shadows offering some kind of warning—he had the distinct impression that he had been saved from the Carthagen’s trap for a specific reason. It hadn’t been mere chance that had delivered him to the edge of the asteroid at the exact same time that Brigadier Desttro’s transport arrived. It was destiny... or fate... or whatever was going to lead him to greatness.

  The more he thought of the story Lancelot had told him, of her improbable rescue by Bookknow, Julian began to see a pattern between the two events. Both had unfolded in the only possible way that could have ensured their safety. It was through his astounding survival that he began to find himself feeling as if his true mission wasn’t yet done. That thought led him to join Brigadier Bulwark on the command deck of his flagship.

  “You don’t mind?” Julian had asked.

  “You’re the general, I’m the brigadier,” Bulwark had said, his skin going back and forth between pure white and pure black as he spoke. “That’s all there is to it.”

  Of course, both of them knew Julian could have simply issued the order instead of politely asking, and so Bulwark retired to his quarters for the majority of the return while Julian stared out the main viewports of the command deck.

  Now, the only flagship ahead of him was an Athens Destroyer. Then it too disappeared into the portal.

  “Tinder walls down,” he ordered.

  “Tinder walls down, sir.”

  The panels of atomized steel slid down over every exhaust port and every window looking out to space. The view of the stars was replaced by metal. At the front of the command deck, a series of three large holograms formed. The one in the middle showed what was in front of the vessel since they could no longer look out and see for themselves. All it showed at that moment was the portal directly in front of them.

  “Proceed,” Julian said.

  “Yes, sir.”

  The ship began to pass into the field of contained energy. The hologram at the front of the ship showed them entering the portal. The vessel felt as if it were lurching forward. For a moment, there was nothing on the hologram. A moment later, everyone felt as if they were being pushed back into their seats. The hologram showing the space in front of them displayed the same Athens Destroyer that had passed through the gateway ahead of them moments earlier.

  They were through the portal.

  “Raise the tinder walls.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  All around him, the panels slid away and Julian could once again see the stars, the galaxy, the other flagships ahead of him, and—his heart thumped—his beautiful blue and green and white home world directly in front of him.

  Something else was there as well, though.

  He couldn’t take his eyes away from the Excalibur Armada ship that Arc-Mi-Die had positioned above the planet, inside Edsall Dark’s atmosphere, miles above the surface. The ultimate threat of a lunatic.

  During his return home, Julian had received updates of the Round Table’s discussion on the matter. About half the way back to Edsall Dark he had quietly decided that if Arc-Mi-Die’s ship was still there when he got back, it wouldn’t remain for a minute longer.

  “Ensign Reap, send orders to the rest of the fleet to position themselves halfway between the planet’s surface and Excalibur ship.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As he watched, the Flying Fortresses and the other vessels moved according to General Reiser’s command. Only his own HC Ballistic Cruiser remained above the Excalibur vessel, at the edge between blue sky and black space. It astounded him that no one had done anything about the threat. Edsall Dark and CamaLon were supposed to be the symbols of a united galaxy, not the target of a criminal.

  “I want that ship destroyed right this moment,” he said.

  The weapons systems officer turned and looked at him. The Excalibur ships were known to be invincible. Sending a barrage of proton missiles at it wouldn’t do anything. Julian held out a hand to the officer to let her know he had something else in mind.

  “Lieutenant O’hara, send a single, unmanned mech down to it, set to autopilot.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The mech would land on the foreign vessel, equipped with a drill. The drill wouldn’t penetrate the legendary ship but it would trigger the Excalibur’s autodestruct. The only problem was that the explosion would send debris down on the planet below, which was surely why the Round Table representatives had been unable to come up with a plan for how to ensure no one was hurt if they attempted to rid themselves of it.

  No matter, Julian thought.

  That problem would be solved by placing his flagships there to clean up any mess.

  4

  Talbot hadn’t served in any official capacity during the trip back to Edsall Dark. As far as he was concerned, he was no longer part of the Round Table forces. Now, he was just another person traveling across the galaxy until he got to where he needed to be. When he arrived home, he would become yet another of the billions of beings in the galaxy looking for a purpose in life, a path to reveal what he was supposed to be doing. The one thing he was sure of was that fighting for the galactic fleet wasn’t his true calling.

  For the entire journey, he had rarely left his personal quarters. No one else on the ship knew much about General Reiser’s son other than the fact that he was alive but was also no longer an officer. Some of the crew on the HC Ballistic Cruiser might have thought Talbot was under house arrest if it hadn’t also been known that he had served with distinction in the Carthagen tunnels.

  It wasn’t as if Julian had told his son to stay in his quarters. Talbot had isolated himself because he needed time to think about everything that had happened inside the asteroid’s tunnels and everything that would happen when he returned to Edsall Dark. From the troublesome dreams he continued having, of officers screaming for help, he was aware that he had a lot of things he needed to come to terms with.

  He simply had no inclination to continue in the role he had been trained to perform in the academy. He had seen men and women die all around him and he knew he didn’t want to see it again. The only reason he had been a part of the campaign at all was because he had allowed himself to be carried in a certain direction rather than choosing his own path.

  To a certain degree, the things the other officers had heard about him were true: Talbot had led the expedition forces after Brigadier Exeter died and Bri
gadier Warwick had been critically injured. But that hadn’t led to the other officers being saved. Rather, it had merely allowed them to struggle to survive for a few days longer than they otherwise might have. He wasn’t a savior, he was a prolonger. That wasn’t a distinction Talbot wanted. It certainly wasn’t something that deserved awards and praise. The first time his father had hugged him following their rescue, he had said how proud he was of his son. Talbot had shivered with disgust at his own failure.

  While he was sure Julian would be hurt by his decision to quit the military, Talbot had no doubt that his mother would understand. After having her son nearly die in the asteroids, Margaret would probably be more upset if Talbot remained in service than if he told her he was going to do something else—even if he had no idea what that something else was going to be. She would take his face in her hands and kiss his forehead and cry with happiness. It was what mothers did when their sons returned home.

  And yet the single question of what to do next weighed on him. At times, it made him feel as if he couldn’t breathe.

  When the viewport that Talbot had been looking through sealed shut, he knew the tinder walls were lowering for the final time. A familiar sensation hit him, of being pulled slightly forward only to be yanked back once again. When the tinder walls rose, he looked out the window and saw Edsall Dark in the distance below.

  His eyes narrowed when he also saw the Excalibur Armada vessel in their path. Although he hadn’t received much news during the return trip, his father had told him about Arc-Mi-Die and about the vessel the warlord had placed above CamaLon.

  “What are you going to do about it?” Talbot had asked, sure his father must have a plan.

  “If the representatives can’t decide what to do by the time we get back, I’ll make the decision for them.”

  Talbot’s right eyebrow had come down toward his mouth, the automatic look of concern washing across his face. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he had asked.

  What he didn’t ask, because it was something a son could never say to a father, was, “After everything that just happened, do you think it’s a good idea to be making that kind of decision by yourself?” Instead, all he did was shrug and chalk up his father’s determination to being one of the many reasons Julian was a general of the Round Table and Talbot was formerly an ensign and now... nothing.

  True to his father’s words, the fleet did attack the Excalibur vessel. Or, rather, the HC Ballistic Cruiser sent a simple mech down to the craft to make it self-destruct.

  Talbot watched the entire thing. The mech’s engine allowed it to land on the top of Arc-Mi-Die’s vessel. A moment later Talbot had to put a hand in front of his face to cover his eyes. A blast, nearly as bright as a sun, erupted where the Excalibur Armada vessel had been. Anything within a two-mile sphere of the ship would be incinerated. Anything within four miles would receive severe structural damage. Ten miles away, the Round Table ships would be safe as long as their shields held.

  That was why they were positioned halfway between the vessel and CamaLon. The Round Table fleet was arrayed in a tight formation that caused an artificial eclipse to cast down on Edsall Dark’s capital, bringing the market and the spaceport and the Great Hall into temporary darkness. Each ship had their shields activated and would absorb the brunt of the blast. For all of the other debris that might rain down upon the city and fields below, the flagships launched an array of thermal charges and cannon blasts that incinerated any shrapnel before it could impact the planet’s surface.

  Far below the HC Ballistic Cruiser, Talbot saw a blanket of fire erupt from the side of one of the Havoc gunships. A chunk of debris that was too far away for him to see would have been turned to ash. A Flying Fortress fired one of its burst cannons. One hundred different lasers sprayed the debris until it no longer existed. Each piece of metal and burning shrapnel that exploded from the Excalibur vessel was caught by one of the counter measures launched by Julian’s fleet. The series of blasts and eruptions resembled a fireworks display, a celebration, more than it looked like the most important city in the galaxy being saved from the clutches of a warlord. In a way, Talbot thought, it looked as though Julian were throwing his own welcome home party.

  5

  For over a year, Arc-Mi-Die had gone without seeing natural light. That was because he hadn’t left his hidden lair. The entire galaxy was looking for him. As soon as he stuck his head out from his secret hiding location, word would spread and everyone would know where he was. A fleet of Solar Carriers and Athens Destroyers would find him and bring him to justice. That was why he did everything necessary to ensure that not even his closest allies knew his location. Only his guards, who were also isolated from the outside galaxy, a skeleton crew working in the warlord’s complex, and his helper android knew where he was. Of those, only the helper android was allowed to leave the hidden base.

  His current android was a v26 JMM make. Arc-Mi-Die simply called him J. Because of J’s programing, which prevented any deception or betrayal, he was the only thing Arc-Mi-Die trusted to deliver his orders. Of course, that same programming had been built into K, Arc-Mi-Die’s previous assistant, and that hadn’t prevented the notoriously distrustful warlord from eventually becoming paranoid by something the android said. A minute later, Arc-Mi-Die’s pair of Woghort guards had been ordered to attack the android with their vibro axes.

  J had been built with the same programming as K but was a more evolved model. It was made by a competitor to the largest manufacturer of androids. As a result, it still had two arms and two legs like a human, but bore little resemblance to androids like Pistol. J’s legs were shorter than an average human, offering the unit a more stable center of gravity. Its arms were slightly longer, which allowed its hands to reach its shins even when it was standing upright. J’s skin was a light grey. Its eyes were dark grey, void of an iris or pupils.

  Arc-Mi-Die might have been the driving force behind the terror engulfing the galaxy, but it was J who actually carried out the orders or delivered them to other mercenaries and pirates who were under Arc-Mi-Die’s payroll.

  The only other beings Arc-Mi-Die saw on a regular basis were the pair of Woghort guards, stationed within his secure chambers. Anyone gaining access through the door to the warlord’s chambers would have to face the two Woghorts before they could take another step. Not even they could approach within twenty feet of Arc-Mi-Die without activating the automated defense measures that provided one of the final layers of the warlord’s security.

  Only J was allowed within the perimeter of his master’s automated turrets and blaster system. However, the Treagon barrier, which lay inside that defensive field, ensured that not even J could get within hand’s reach of Arc-Mi-Die.

  After being called, the outer door to the warlord’s lair opened. J stood in the doorway. Its eyes scanned left, then right, looking at both Woghort guards before stepping further into the room. They patted the android down even though J’s security protocol would trigger an automatic self-destruct if anyone tried to tamper with its programming.

  Every time it was unnecessarily searched, J remained silent and emotionless, never acknowledging or arguing with how the guards treated it. When it was cleared, the android walked to the edge of the defensive perimeter of the windowless room that Arc-Mi-Die called home.

  “What news do you have for me?” the warlord asked, both of his mouths already grinning in anticipation of what J might tell him.

  “My lord, the Round Table forces have destroyed the Excalibur vessel above Edsall Dark.”

  J was installed with advanced reactionary processing, meaning its initial social programming could learn behavior patterns in others. That was why the android knew the update it offered, even though it might send others into a fit of rage, would actually please Arc-Mi-Die.

  Indeed, the warlord roared with laughter, both sets of razor teeth revealed and shining under the artificial light of the room.

  “Finally,” Arc-Mi-Die laughed.
“I was beginning to think they would never do anything.”

  J expected this response because its programming had evolved to allow him to understand most of the warlord’s true intentions. Even though he claimed otherwise, much of what Arc-Mi-Die did wasn’t for the end result it brought about. Instead, the android assessed that most of the warlord’s actions were driven by the need for the initial reactions he received instead of the ultimate payment or victory he later obtained through his illegal dealings.

  Arc-Mi-Die had issued a demand for part of the Round Table’s fleet in exchange for not carrying out anymore Excalibur attacks. But the enjoyment he got from experiencing the representatives utterly paralysis and indecision far exceeded the expectation he had of being given any ships.

  The warlord strode from one side of his tiny self-imposed cell to the other. “One ship above one city brought the entire galaxy’s leadership to a standstill. They were helpless to figure out what they should do.” Then, turning back to J, he smiled and said, “This is going to be easier than I thought.”

  “How would you like me to respond, my lord?”

  Rather than provide an immediate answer, Arc-Mi-Die paced back and forth within the confines of the Treagon barrier, laughing the entire time.

  On the opposite side of the room, the pair of Woghort guards snorted with delight, happy to see their boss in a good mood because that was when they were more likely to enjoy a special meal or receive a pitcher of ale.

  “How should we respond?” Arc-Mi-Die said, not intending to get a response, merely enjoying the sound of his own voice, delighting in the afterglow of what he considered a victory. “We could send another ship to another capital and do the same thing. Or we could destroy a random colony and let them know we haven’t forgotten about the rest of the galaxy.”