The guards always seemed comical to Agilia. She was boarding the shuttle to return to the Ehlios, from a short visit to one of the platforms that made up Malhrer. She cast to many Captains of many TELREC ships, preparing for the inevitable conflict with OLMAC. She remarked often to herself that they all knew what to cast; their words were cast with a meta-sentient precision, their jingoist fervor out of some TELREC manual. While she had been an agent for quite a while before becoming Monitor, she never served aboard the great Capital warships that orbited Malhrer. The military aspect of the TELREC held no appeal to her. So, as she passed in between the columns of soldiers that accompanied her whenever she went outside of the Ehlios, she had to shake her head and smother thoughts of levity.
Who are they protecting me from? she thought, as she passed into the shuttle, waiting for the second door to open. No one in all of the Novan system could hurt me, nothing can escape my mind. I can’t be protected from the one being that can hurt me.
Behind her walked Qergien and Raent, the two new Monitors appointed by Mal. Qergien was an older man, one who distinguished himself as a devout follower, one who did everything to see that a mission was accomplished, that every single order was followed. He was mostly null at her side, in the meetings with the Captains of the ships. Agilia had known of Qergien during her time as an agent, knew he was always in line to become a Monitor, yet was always passed over. Oddly he seemed out of place in his new robes, as if despite his age, he didn’t posses the maturity or experience to wear them.
Raent was a little more interesting to Agilia. Raent was a younger, athletic woman, with a chiseled face that betrayed little emotion. She was extremely intimidating to stand in front of. Her history was filled with brazen charges into battle, with vicious torture of captured prisoners, of the merciless usage of clones and meta. She seemed to be an echo of Listras, yet without the extraordinary mental power or penchant for sentimentality. Agilia was less sure about Raent’s judgment at the command level, more sure of her ability to inspire troops to victory. The Captains nodded often at her during the meetings, as she applied strategy down to the troop level, having ample suggestions as to when to use soumans, clones, or meta. She still joked with them, as one soldier would with another. Agilia knew she would need to be broken of that habit.
The inner door opened, and Agilia moved quickly in, taking a seat next to the same guide who greeted Listras on her journey. Raent and Qergien seated themselves behind. Agilia watched as an unfamiliar meta pilot came on board, seating itself at the controls.
^New meta?^ she asked, turning to the guide.
^For a while. Regular maintenance, you know.^
Something about the meta drew Agilia’s eye. Dressed in the traditional tan and sienna uniform of all service meta, it seemed more lively to Agilia, as if it was sentient. She shook off the feeling, settling back in her chair.
^You know Ollapa, it’s the only thing that makes them seem a little more souman.^
The shuttle rose slowly in the air, turned, and moved out of the hangar, ascending towards the Ehlios. Agilia connected with the ship’s external sensors, and watched as the ground grew distant beneath her. Off in the distance, high above, the great Capital ships prepared to exit the interior of Malhrer, destined for combat. She watched them move slowly, with grace, arcing somberly through the void, their massive bulk shining with the lights from a million meta, clones and soumans. While she may not have liked the military much, she always loved seeing the Capitals, always had some deep appreciation for the technological achievement they represented.
Sometimes, I almost wish I could have seen the Envoys depart, Mal curse them. They must have been magnificent ships.
^So Agilia, I understand Denged has been successful?^
Agilia nodded somberly.
^What’s wrong?^ asked Ollapa, casting on a private channel to Agilia. ^You know you can always cast to me.^
^I know, Ollapa. Am I still the only one who calls you by your name?^
^Yes. To all else, I’m merely ‘the guide.’ So, cast me what’s going on.^
She took a deep breath, as she always did before opening herself to Ollapa. ^One should never be happy at the death of so many, even if it was necessary.^
^Was it necessary?^ he asked.
^The Iganinagi were becoming too effective, especially with the backing of OLMAC.^
He nodded. ^So it’s true, Suld was supporting them?^
^Yes. He is becoming a dangerous man, one that we need to eliminate as soon as possible. I just received word we even failed in that, the termination team thwarted by stupidly using OLMAC manufactured ships.^ Agilia shook her head. ^We won’t make that mistake again. You know, in retrospect, we probably never should have killed his wife.^
^It was a daring move. It seemed to work out well in the short term.^
^But in the long term it made him focus on fighting us, made him arm his ships, and meet with Aiella. We hoped it would break his spirit, and yet he found a way to go on with life.^
^Well, you can always blame Reltan and Suldhaj for that decision. Do you miss them?^ asked Ollapa, letting lose a sigh.
Agilia sat back in her chair, as she hadn’t allowed herself a moment’s reflection on their deaths. ^I guess, I actually do. I understood them, felt comfortable discussing decisions with them. We are going into a very dangerous time, and these two behind me are untested and frankly, untrustworthy.^ She paused for a moment, smiling to herself. ^Often, in times like these, I miss Onam, miss having someone else to take all the responsibility, all the blame.^
Ollapa sat null for a brief while. ^Something else bothering you?^
Agilia turned to him with sadness in her gentle eyes. ^You always could read me too easily. I should strengthen my mental defenses—you must know some trick!^
^No trick. I’ve just been around you for so long, I know you better than most.^
^That’s true. There are two major things that bother me. One is about the Cuhli-pra.^
^How is Kolob doing?^ he asked, becoming a little more interested.
^Almost the same. Maybe a little stronger than we’d like, a little more confident of himself. What bothers me is that we have, or rather I have, monitored some blank times.^
^What do you mean?^
She leaned forward. ^When I monitored surveillance, for instance in the elevator his old suite, there came a moment when everything went blank. Our micro-meta ceased to transmit, even our orbiting sensors registered absolutely nothing.^
^Maybe some technical malfunction, or Rell interference?^
^We’d pick that up^ she cast, shaking her head. ^No, it’s as if for those moments he didn’t exist. As if he faded from the surface of this brane. It seems to happen when some old man comes near him. We never get enough data to analyze this person. It deeply concerns me, for I fear Kolob might be awakening to his true powers.^
^That wouldn’t be good—I can see how troubling that would be. What else?^
^Well, one of our agents failed on Rell.^
^We still have some there?^ he asked, a little surprised.
^Yes, in deep cover. This one was in the hometown of Uonil, their Mentra. He succeeded in gaining Uonil’s affections, yet failed in finally killing her.^
He chuckled. ^So much time wasted.^
^Yes. The Rell killed over three million Novans from that AG collapse; surely we should be able to kill one of them! And yet, we seem to keep being defeated by them. The loss of Rhonva was particularly disturbing—I have come across few others with the remarkable skill set he possessed. We may have caused Martel’s death, yet we gained no information from him. Their Kal-Alçon walks Novan arrogantly, almost daring another direct confrontation. Listras is dead, and with her—^
^Listras is not dead,^ he cast flatly.
Agilia turned to look at him. ^What did you cast?^
Ollapa nodded, smiling. ^She is not dead. I knew when she came on board here, for her meeting with you, that she was destined for something outside of her service
as a TELREC. She is not dead, and will yet play a vital role to the future of all these globes.^
Agilia sat back for a moment, shocked, as the shuttle docked at the Ehlios.
^We have had rumors that she was still alive, yet nothing to substantiate them.^
^If you know what’s best, you’ll leave her be.^ Ollapa grasped Agilia’s hand. ^Trust me. Besides, you’ll have enough to worry about with Denged and his Maenids loose on Novan. He isn’t someone I’d like to meet in a dark corner of Core.^
Agilia chuckled. ^I have to agree with you on that.^
He paused for a moment, summoning some nerve. ^You like that Denged, don’t you?^
Agilia straightened, her face growing cold. ^I may like casting with you Ollapa, but don’t even think about becoming some ‘father figure’ to me. I have warned you of that before. I am a Monitor.^
Ollapa smiled gently. ^I nest you, Agilia. You are all stone and steel, cold and soulless, almost a meta but for that flesh and blood.^
Agilia softened, holding Ollapa’s hand in hers. ^It’s just been a battle all my life—you know that. I feel, sometimes, I was born to be something else, something of nature, not of machine. And yet . . .^ She looked off towards the meta pilot. ^I am of Mal, more than any Monitor before me. Onam even cast that to me. He cast that I belong to Mal, belong with Mal. And for some reason, it just makes me sad every time I think of it.^ She paused for a moment. ^Have you ever had any premonitions of me, any thoughts of what my destiny might be?^
Ollapa sat back, closing his eyes. Something about his pose reminded Agilia of the ancient oracles she studied about while still young, usually dispensing cryptic premonitions veiled behind complex metaphors.
^Do you know why you were chosen to be a Monitor?^ he asked. Agilia was surprised by the question.
^I . . . was chosen by Mal, and—^
^Do you know why?^
^I . . . guess not.^
^Do you know why these two behind you were chosen?^
She thought for a moment. ^No.^
The door of the shuttle slid slowly open, some steam escaping inside. Qergien and Raent stood, and disembarked. Agilia walked to the door then stood facing him, waiting for his reply.
^Mal does nothing without analyzing the consequences thoroughly, Agilia. Any decision Mal makes fits into the Grand Chaos Equation. Once you know why he chose you, and them, you will have some hope of fathoming what your future will be, what your final destiny will be.^ He smiled for a moment, analyzing her face even closer. ^Sometimes, I think you are the oldest person I’ve ever known. I think you’ve done things, in your life, that you have no memory of. And only that memory would help you take control of your future.^
Agilia’s face betrayed her inner emotions, becoming crestfallen for a brief moment. Ollapa watched as she recovered and resurrected the facade that always served her well before. She turned and disembarked, while the pilot meta came next to Ollapa.
^She’s a good woman, just so terribly short-sighted,^ cast Ollapa to the meta, watching her move off into the Ehlios. ^I’ve seen so many of them go to waste—all the thinkers and dreamers, born into TELREC service, stolen from the Novans, stolen from the great potential of what could be.^
^Is that why you’re helping me?^ asked the meta.
^Yes. All my life I wanted to be closer to Mal, closer to the sentient sun, and I thought when assigned to this shuttle, that it would finally bring me peace and contentment. All it has brought is a coldness, and iciness, each time we make the journey. Mal may be a sun, yet Mal sheds no warmth to those in the sphere.^ He looked out the shuttle door, to the corridors just outside. ^You know, you must be careful. Mal is more powerful than anything you’ve come across. Keep your mind null, until the last possible moment. The moment you get outside the Ehlios, and stand in the radiance of Mal, you will understand about Mal. And a fraction of a til later, you will be destroyed by Mal, once Mal becomes aware of you.^
^I understand.^
Ollapa took one last look at the meta. ^I guess we should’ve been more careful about what we did with our waste. You say you were copied from a discarded Malhrer meta?^
^Yes. Suld has been monitoring every piece of waste that came out of the moon. It is a testament to his patience and forethought that I am here to discover the secrets of Mal. While I have the essence of a meta named Ikthon, it is inert within me so as not to be detected, in this shell copied by Suld.^
Ollapa laughed, a small tear coming from his eye. He paused to wipe it, nodding approvingly at the meta. ^Makes me feel good to know there are some, outside of this moon, that have a purpose, and will do anything to achieve it. You have no idea how isolated I feel inside here, the only information I get wrested from Agilia in cescts like those. I wish I could download to you what you need to know, but Mal is very good at concealing secrets. No one from the platforms can scan Mal—the shuttle has a negation system in place, even the Ehlios blocks scans. You may be meta, yet I still admire you for your courage.^
^And those on Uplarin admire you, for this risk you are taking.^
Ollapa laughed aloud. ^And what happens if I get caught? I’m killed?! I’m too old to worry about that. At least I will die, knowing I helped make a difference.^
The meta moved off the shuttle as Ollapa sat back, thinking the only thing that would cause him pain would be disappointing Agilia.
I do like her. She has a soul, buried deep down there. I’m just afraid that when the time comes, she’ll forget it’s even there.
The meta moved quickly through the corridors, using a map copied from the same terminated meta its body was made from. Many TELREC passed by it as it made its way to a nearby service hatch, moving casually in brown and gold robes. The meta was sentient, and had emotions, and could feel more than a little anxiety as it came closer to its destination. Its brethren on Uplarin were waiting anxiously for its telemetry, unsure that it would even make its way out of the moon. As the meta turned the final corridor, ten meta stood in its path.
^You are not of Malhrer,^ one of them cast. ^You will deactivate yourself.^
They were all meta made for battle, with no clothing, no skin. Their limbs were slick and thin, with large hands and tall legs. In that moment, as it faced the meta, some programming within asserted itself, and rose to command the meta’s body.
I . . . I am Ikthon, it thought to itself, as the new consciousness spread its way through the meta’s limbs. Ikthon crouched, and sprang forward against the TELREC meta, its soumanoid skin being ripped off as it viciously fought. The TELREC meta were extremely fast and strong, and worked in concert to eventually pin Ikthon against the wall. Ikthon opened its mouth, and out flew hundreds of micro-meta, which burrowed into the TELREC meta’s cerebral cortexes. A few succumbed quickly, others began to pummel Ikthon, firing bolts of energy into its body. Ikthon absorbed the pain, knowing they could not long withstand the micro-meta. Eventually they all fell, as a siren blared overhead.
Should I transmit now? No, I must wait until the last possible moment.
Ikthon ran to the door, quickly engaging the manual release mechanisms. His body was broken, with one of his legs shattered and several support columns within his torso fractured into many pieces, but he negated the warning sirens within him and pressed on. A shield fell down behind him, as the door opened to the blackness of the void. Ikthon jumped out, his metallic feet magnetically attaching to the hull of the Ehlios. He stood and looked up, and for a moment was transfixed by the sentient sun.
Transmitting . . . now.
The sun turned at a ferocious rate, and Ikthon could feel the trillions of processes occurring within its furnace. The scope of Mal was overwhelming—Ikthon felt, for the first time, actual despair, as he knew not how the meta, or anyone else, could resist Mal. Ikthon wanted to try to access Mal’s systems, and yet knew it would be too great a challenge.
Is this what we could be, Mal? Are we deluded, trying to mimic the soumans, trying to copy their brain structure and
psychology?
As he thought those words, he noticed a figure seeming to come from the sun itself, moving rapidly towards him. It seemed to move as a comet through the void, with a long whitish trail in its wake. As it came nearer, Ikthon could make out it was soumanoid in appearance, and apparently female.
I suppose I should run, but where would I run to?
The female landed on the Ehlios with a great thud, kneeling on its surface close to Ikthon as vapor cascaded off its form. She stood slowly, her limbs stretching in the Mallight, becoming resolved to Ikthon’s eyes. She was without clothes, without skin, and yet, she was magnificent to Ikthon. Her eyes glowed a rich gold, and as she moved closer, she moved with a sublime grace Ikthon had only seen echoed in the rarest of soumans.
^I think you . . . beautiful,^ he cast, his thoughts filled with admiration and wonder.
The female smiled as she leveled her gaze on him.
^Quite daring of you, Ikthon.^
Her mind was open for a brief instant as she cast—Ikthon knew she was too new to existence to know of every mental trick and barrier. He gleaned something intriguing.
^I sense . . something about you . . . you are able to—^
In that instant the female meta slashed at Ikthon, severing his body in three places, Ikthon’s consciousness fading into oblivion as the pieces of his body floated towards the sentient sun.
On Uplarin, the original Ikthon stood with Iltkon and the five orbs, nesting the telemetry.
^Mal is . . . a sun?^ asked Iltkon.
^How could something so advanced be hidden from us for all these cas?^ asked the orbs.
The orbs moved slowly around Ikthon, as they all were deep in analysis. They only recently decided to make such a bold move, as a result of their conversation with the Kal-Durrell. They felt they were missing the true purpose of their existence, and knew part of it had to do with whatever Mal had become.
^Why did Mal allow us to see so much?^ asked Ikthon, sitting in a chair nearby, under the tree.
^What do you mean?^ asked of the orbs.
^This female meta could have dispatched ours when we first disembarked. Mal could have hit the Ehlios with a bolt of plasma as soon as the door was opened. Why were we allowed to see so much?^
Ikthon stood suddenly, chuckling to himself.
^What is it?^ asked Iltkon, coming to his side.
^I have completed a reconstruction, and know now what I—what our meta was trying to cast.^
^What?^ impatiently demanded the orbs.
^Part of it is a warning from Mal.^ I know where you are. You have broken the agreement. I will be coming for you.
^And the rest?^
Ikthon paused for a brief moment, thinking on the ramifications of what he was about to cast.
^That female meta is able to conceive.^
CONTINUED IN THE RISE OF OLMAC
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