The Sword In The Stone Read online

  “Turn over any weapons you are carrying and you may enter,” the control-mech android said when Lancelot began to approach the door. Its voice was a deep and ominous version of a classic computerized language program.

  Exactly ten feet away from the bouncer, Lancelot paused.

  “I’m not going to hand over my weapons. And you will not survive if you try to confiscate them.”

  She withdrew both vibro lances and both Meursaults to show the android so he could assess the reality of what she was saying.

  “I am programmed to confiscate all weapons before entry.”

  “I understand,” Lancelot said. “Is there any way you can override your programming in order to continue functioning?”

  “I’m sorry, there is not.”

  “I understand.”

  Lancelot ignited her vibro lances and jabbed them at the control-mech. Both beams of metal shot out and burst with energy. To her surprise, the android was fast enough to evade the attack. Both of its gauntlets burst into a buzzing energy that grabbed the ends of either lance before they could be driven through its shoulders.

  For a moment, the two of them stared at each other, the mech android holding the lances in place and Lancelot pushing forward with the full weight of her Carthagen armor. A moment later she retracted the weapons and the bouncer was left with nothing to hold. Instead, Lancelot stepped forward and brought both Meursaults down toward it. The android’s hands came up to grab these weapons as well but the blades, too slight even to be seen by the human eye, and so microscopically thin as to be able to cut almost every known material in the galaxy, sliced through the android’s gauntlets with ease. Both armored gloves fell to the ground. Two streaks of vapor flowed through the air to show where the blades had passed.

  Lancelot’s next pair of strikes cut off the control-mech’s arms at the elbows. The next two took off its head, then cut its body clean in half.

  “I am programmed... to confiscate... all weapons...” the motorized voice said as it began to lose power.

  “You’re programming was your downfall,” she said, stepping over its remains.

  Without wasting any more time, she pushed the door open and entered the bar.

  10

  Hector shook his head and sighed. The crowd continued to flow through CamaLon’s streets to follow Julian’s celebration.

  “The shouting is starting to wear on me,” he said to Cash. “I’m happy Julian is home and that the Excalibur vessel is no longer above Edsall Dark, but the extent of the revelry is...”

  “Fit for a king?” Cash said.

  Hector closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

  Instead of hundreds or thousands of people yelling separate cheers as they had minutes earlier, coordinated chants began to fill the city streets.

  “Long live General Reiser. Long live General Reiser.”

  Cash rubbed his chin. “They honor him the way we’re taught to celebrate the heroes of old, the people we made statues of.”

  Hector gave his best attempt at a smile. “Sometimes, men are just carried along by life and sometimes they’re the masters of their own fate. Julian is allowed to get caught up in the moment. He’ll come to his senses, though.”

  “The difference isn’t in the stars,” Cash said, “but in each person. You’re here because you saw what war did and you hated it. Julian is here because he wanted to win glory.”

  “Cash—”

  “This is what he wants, Hector. He’s not tolerating it, he’s encouraging it. The only person in this city who deserves this kind of praise is you.” He pointed a finger at his friend. “But you’d never allow them to hold you in that kind of esteem. That’s what’s so troubling about how Julian lavishes in it.”

  “I truly think you’re making too big a deal of all this.

  Pistol found Hector in the crowd and made his way to his side. In the first few weeks and months after Vere’s disappearance, Hector hadn’t felt right about inheriting her helper android. Now, he didn’t think he would be able to function at the Round Table without all of the support Pistol provided.

  They nodded to each other without speaking, which was one of the things Hector appreciated about the android’s programming.

  Cash turned to Pistol and told him that his boss was one of the most stubborn people he had ever met.

  “You haven’t met half the people I’ve known, then,” the android replied, which made Hector smile.

  They allowed the mass of people to push them closer to the first main intersection of streets in the capital. Julian and the main part of the crowd were gone but the stream of followers still filtered in from every direction.

  After a few minutes, the chorus of cheers began to increase again. Hector and Cash both looked for the source. Julian and Margaret, with Octo, Talbot, and a group of others beside them, had made their way through a few of the city streets and were circling back upon the city square where the celebration had begun. They were met by the thousands of cheering beings of every species and race. Some sat quietly in the corners, mourning the loss of their loved ones, but they were drowned out by the frenzied mobs.

  Thousands of people sang General Reiser’s name. As they continued to cheer, Julian did nothing to quell their frenzy.

  Cash leaned closer to Hector and whispered. “I hope you think about it long and hard.” Then, to Pistol, added, “Maybe you can talk some sense into him.”

  11

  Standing a few paces behind his father, Talbot was amazed by the crowd’s reaction. The cacophony of screaming was just as loud as the chaos that had filled the Carthagen tunnels, and yet this was a completely different energy that surrounded him. People were cheering Julian—his father—the way they celebrated the legendary heroes he had read about as a child. All around him were people who credited Julian with not only expanding the Round Table and giving freedom to millions who lived in far-off sectors, but also for eliminating the threat that Arc-Mi-Die had put over them.

  He could see the relief in the human’s and alien’s faces as he made his way through the streets of CamaLon. Mothers and fathers cried with happiness as they yelled his father’s name. Their children struggled to get a glimpse of the general. Young and old alike saw someone who, in a single moment of decisiveness, had done what the representatives had failed to do after endless bickering.

  Everywhere he looked, the people cheered. They were atop the capital wall, packed on every street, standing at open windows that lined the celebration route. None of them questioned why some of the flagships were missing from the fleet’s return. None of them mentioned the absent officers and crew that had been aboard those vessels. The only thing of importance at that moment was that a man had stood up to evil in every form and had made the galaxy a better place.

  Eventually, the parade route looped back around toward where it had begun. Through the still open main gate, Talbot saw the flagships in the distance. He also saw Hector talking to one of the other representatives. Breaking off from the main group where Julian, Margaret, and Octo were, Talbot walked to him. As he did, the man beside Hector—the only person in the area who looked miserable—nodded and walked away.

  “Talbot,” Hector said, extending a hand.

  “Sir,” he replied and smiled. “If I was interrupting, please forgive me.”

  “Don’t worry about Cash. He thinks too much. He’s so observant he sometimes sees more than what’s actually there.”

  They hugged and Hector leaned away to get a better look at the young man in front of him.

  “You’re not a child anymore.” He spoke with a fatherly tone that he rarely had opportunity to use.

  Talbot smiled again. Then, looking around at the crowds of people, said, “This is crazy. I’ve never seen a celebration like this before.”

  “Not even when we defeated Mowbray,” Hector agreed.

  The crowd no longer yelled, “All hail General Reiser.” They merely shouted Julian’s last name, without any needed title, as if he was everything they needed in one person. Their leader. Their ruler. All of it.

  Talbot shook his head in a combination of amazement and unease as he listened to the calls. “Right now, it feels awfully odd to share that last name.”

  The only word that came to Hector’s tongue was one he had just heard from the man who had just walked away.

  “Indeed.”

  12

  The colony of Tantula-7 in the Plusodien Sector was unremarkable. It didn’t contain many people. The few who did live there were miners excavating the unique minerals found on the planet, botanists studying the rare soil conditions, or physicists studying gravity anomalies. In recent months, the colony was best known as being one of the sites where Arc-Mi-Die had kidnapped another scientist.

  Outside the colony’s containment field, toxic clouds swirled in miniature tornadoes across the desolate landscape. Above the planet, a ship descended toward the center of the small pocket of civilization.

  The vessel, part of the Excalibur Armada, grew larger and larger as it closed the distance between the void of space and the planet’s surface. The few people and aliens on Tantula-7 yelled and ran for cover. There was no safety to be found, however.

  A moment later, a brilliant flash of light washed across the colony when the Excalibur vessel detonated. When the explosion dissipated, any sign of civilization was gone, as was the ship that had brought death to another part of the galaxy.

  13

  Lancelot had been in enough dens of thievery over the previous weeks to be ready for anything. With the body of the control-mech still buzzing on the ground behind her, she stepped through the door and scanned her surroundings.

  Of the roughly twenty patrons she observed only two were human. The bartender was an android, whi
ch was how Lancelot determined there were no Treagon barriers in the establishment. Unlike many of the bars she had been to in her search for the two Turgdorians, there was also no music. What it did have in common with almost every other place she had been was a lack of light. She had noticed during her travels that you could tell how wretched an establishment was by how little light was inside. The true menaces and scum only wanted to go places where they could hide in the shadows.

  Even with the almost nonexistent illumination, she could make out the shapes of aliens most people would want to flee from. With her normal eyesight, she could see little more. After the optics in her helmet automatically switched, the extent of the danger around her came into focus.

  A hulking beast with short, coarse hair covering every part of it took up one entire corner of the room. The alien was as wide as most of the tables and even sitting on the ground it was ten feet tall. It would have to bend over just to get in and out of the bar.

  A pair of amphibians sat in the middle of the establishment. Both had a single ion grenade that they had somehow managed to sneak past the android bouncer. Each alien held the explosive in the palm of their hand as they enjoyed their drink. The grenades were primed and ready to detonate to discourage anyone from trying to pick a fight with them.

  In the opposite corner from the beast, she saw who she was looking for. The silhouettes of the figures were thick and bulky. Their necks were as wide as their heads, making it look like they had no necks at all.

  Lancelot scanned the room one last time to take a mental catalogue of every possible threat, then made her way across to the far side of the enclosure.

  Standing over their table, she said, “I’ve been looking for you two for a while now. You’re tough to find.”

  The Turgdorians looked up from their drinks and stared back at her. Neither were the portrait of beauty. Their upturned noses allowed her to see the thick black hairs that filled their nostrils. Their skin was covered in bumps the size of swollen knuckles. They breathed through their mouths, putting their infected gums and yellow teeth on constant display.

  The pair of Turgdorians looked at her, then snorted. The noise was translated by Lancelot’s language software as, “Go away.”

  The pair of aliens went back to their drinks as if she wasn’t standing there.

  Lancelot said, “Two months ago, you were on the colony of Tantula-7.” Still, no response from the thugs. “You kidnapped a doctor.” Without realizing it, one of the Turgdorians’ eyes flickered away from his drink, toward the person standing over him. Lancelot added, “His name was Dr. Ythoul-Ythoul.”

  Both aliens looked up at her and grunted. Beside both of them were ion axes, which their enormous monster hands moved towards.

  Lancelot cursed herself, having not noticed the weapons earlier. She was also beginning to suspect that many of the regular patrons must have been given access through a rear entrance so they didn’t have their weapons confiscated.

  The Turgdorian to her right grumbled a series of noises that were translated to, “My friend told you to leave. Now I’m telling you, too. You have the wrong people. We’ve never been to whatever colony you’re talking about.”

  Lancelot put her weight back on the rear two legs of her Carthagen armor. Both sets of arms were crossed to show how little she respected the threat the Turgdorians thought they posed.

  “Do you want to know how I’m sure you’re lying?” she asked them. When they didn’t reply, she said, “You opened your stupid, ugly mouths and bragged about it. If you hadn’t tried to impress some other wretched excuse for life, I wouldn’t have heard about it and I wouldn’t be here.”

  Both Turgdorians snorted a series of extremely vulgar slurs toward her, laughed, then lifted their mugs for another gulp of ale. Before they knew what was happening, sweet liquid splashed in their laps.

  Two streaks of dark vapor drew lines threw the air where the Turgdorians had been holding their drinks. It happened so fast that the aliens didn’t even realize the extent of what had happened until they looked at their soaked pants and saw their hands, lopped off at the wrist, were still gripping the mugs.

  Both roared with a combination of outrage and pain. The one to Lancelot’s left used his other hand to clench the stump where his other wrist had been. The Turgdorian to her right ignored the lost hand and reached for his ion axe. Before he could get it, another swish of black mist passed through the air and he was missing his other hand.

  The Turgdorians cried with rage, appealing to anyone nearby for help. A series of snorts was translated into Lancelot’s helmet as, “Anyone who helps us will get everything we collected from our last five bounties!”

  Lancelot sliced the handles of both of their ion axes in half just to make sure they couldn’t be used against her, then turned to see if anyone in the bar would accept the challenge. Before anyone had a chance to assess how rich they might become if they collected the reward, she withdrew both vibro lances and ignited them. While they glowed, she used her other two hands to twirl both Meursaults to let everyone know, beyond a doubt, that she had a pair of weapons superior to anything they might be holding.

  The two amphibians in the middle of the bar gulped the last bit of their drinks, got to their feet, then walked toward the door to leave. A pair of human-sized lizards followed them. Everyone else stared at her, and she knew they were assessing the risk versus the reward.

  Still spinning the invisible swords so the trail of mists were constant, she said, “I have no quarrel with anyone else in this room. My issue is with these two Turgdorians. If you leave me be, I will do the same to you.”

  A wart-covered, sickly-green alien gulped the last of his drink, belched, then stood and left the bar. He was followed by a gelatinous swirling alien that looked delicate but was known for possessing one of the galaxy’s most lethal toxins.

  A rustling came from Lancelot’s side. It was the hulking beast. Lancelot didn’t aim her weapons at it but she did stand on her hind legs and swivel her helmet to see what it would do.

  The giant pushed the table away and stood. It had to hunch forward at a ninety-degree angle to keep from hitting its head and back on the ceiling. As large as Lancelot was in her Carthagen armor, the beast was twice as wide, with hands that dwarfed her helmet. It uttered a single growl that lingered in the establishment for ten seconds.

  The Turgdorians gave a hopeful snort.

  But instead of coming to their defense, the hunched-over hulk nodded to Lancelot, then lumbered toward the bar’s exit and then was gone. Lancelot suspected the enormous alien almost certainly would have been willing to accept the Turgdorians’ deal if it was just a four-armed and four-legged warrior in front of him. But not even the giant would dare take on someone with a pair of Meursaults.

  “Smart move,” Lancelot said under her breath. Then, turning her attention back to the pair of goons, listened to their cries.

  A noise caught Lancelot’s attention. She spun to defend herself but it was only the two human patrons also deciding it was time to leave.

  She turned back to the aliens. “You will answer all of my questions. Anytime you don’t, you’ll see a flash of mist pass through the air. It’ll be so quick you won’t even feel the piece of you that’s missing until you find it on the ground. Do you understand?”

  Both Turgdorians snorted in the affirmative.

  “The two of you kidnapped a scientist named Dr. Ythoul-Ythoul on the colony of Tantula-7. Is that correct?”