“What do you want?” Solomon was frustrated, but pensive as well, hiding it with a bluster of anger that Sensus saw through.
Needle shrugged innocently. “I want the truth to be known. I would have thought that apparent."
“You want the truth to be known? Then tell me why you're suddenly taking my side after trying to frame me as a traitor. And I want to know how long you were dogging me out there, and why.”
Sensus sighed. Sol, you can’t fight everyone on Albion. “Since he’s not going to say it, I will. Thank you, Needle.”
Needle made an elaborate gesture towards Sensus while looking at Solomon.
“You thank this man?” said Sol. “You thank a lackey for following orders? What I do, I do out of conviction. And where’s my thanks?”
“Well, thanks to me,” said Needle, “there will be no more mistaking your conviction.”
“You’re working an angle, Needle, and I don’t trust you.”
Needle looked at Sensus. His robotic features somehow appeared dramatically mournful. Overly simplified for the humanoid shape he bore, not to mention the vast complexity of a synthetic body that could house the constituents of a soul, those features were more mocking than a human’s could have been.
“I would like to know the nature of your orders to locate Solomon,” Sensus said, “as well as the time frame, and who issued the order.”
“Those orders came from the Quorum. As such, they are now invalid. And there was no individual issuing them. They were made by consensus. As for the purpose of those orders, or any other details, you’ll need to ask those who sat on the Quorum.”
Sensus found Needle’s sudden decorum refreshing. “I intend to. How long?”
“General, as I just told you...”
“Now that there is a central military authority, namely me, the Intelligence Guild no longer enjoys the autonomy it once did. How long?”
Needle was quiet for a moment, regarding Sensus with that hyperfiber face that had fought hidden wars for millennia. It was not lost on Sensus how old the Sentinels were, having origins buried deeper than surviving histories could dig. If one doubted the story they told, the doubter carried the burden of proof.
“Off and on, for the duration of his absence,” the Sentinel eventually replied.
“Off and on?”
Solomon, who’d been pacing about the office, finally sat down.
Needle swung one leg over the other. “General, I’ve been a busy man. If you have half the sense your position requires, you’ll keep me that way.”
Sensus steepled his fingers in a downturned pyramid. “You won’t be idle; I can promise you that. I want a report on your shadowing of Solomon along with your other duties. You’re something of an enigma, Needle. Your activities are largely off the record, and your loyalties even more ambiguous. Even the Pinnacle Three find you a mystery.”
“And you want that mystery solved, I assume?”
Sensus narrowed his glowing eyes. “No. I want it well utilized.”
Needle cocked his head. “You may be useful to Albion yet, General.” He looked at Solomon. “Leave the solving to this one, then.”
Solomon grunted. “Truth.”
“You want truth, Solomon?” Needle tapped his fingers together. “The Quorum thought you might be onto something. They sent me because they wanted you observed, not disturbed, and I’m the one soldier in Albion’s secret service who can be properly discreet.”
“Were you acting under orders when you doctored those sound files?” asked Sensus. “And when you left one in my quarters? And after the expansion of government, why didn’t you report to me?”
A light shined behind Needle’s unsmiling lips. “Now that was the Duchess’s doing, General.”
“And the reason you came back? Were those her orders? I want to know how sternly I need to remind my colleagues of their jurisdictions.”
“Oh, very sternly, I would say. And repeatedly, as they’re sure to continually forget. I came back for two reasons. I grew weary of the Quorum’s trifling, and I want to offer my service to a proper armed force, and also because I have a message for Solomon.”
Sensus looked at his friend, who seemed tense. He stood. “I’ll give you the room.”
“Don’t you want to hear?” Needle asked.
“Is the message for me?”
Needle was quiet for a moment. “No. Just for him.”
“Sensus,” said Sol, “stay. I’ve nothing to hide from you.”
“And neither have I, as you’ll see General. This message will be just as incriminating of me as it will be of Solomon.”
“Go on.”
“The message is from the Gnomon. He told me that our mutual friend was barking up the wrong tree with Eno.”
Sensus felt somewhat confused. “I’m not sure how this is incriminating.”
His statement seemed to be a revelation to Needle. “All those ops you’ve run, and you never heard of the Gnomon? Have you heard of his wife at least?”
Solomon chuckled. “You’ve operated in the shadows so long you’ve come to believe there is no light.”
“Oh, get over yourself, Solomon. You’re both Harbingers. Your whole species wades through death like toddlers in a kiddy pool. If the general doesn’t know who the Gnomon is, that doesn’t make him morally commendable. It just means he’s uninformed.”
“Then inform me.”
Needle turned to face Sensus directly. “They’re from Ulro. The Gnomon works for Haleon, the Dial works for Topar. Apparently those two had a thing.”
“And what do the Gnomon and the Dial do for Haleon and Topar?”
“Their bidding, of course. Though I think they’ve been on our side of the fence so long they’ve become unclear as to what that bidding is. Sort of like the Sefibots.”
Sensus sighed. “Needle, I think it best you prepare me a report that will get me up to speed.”
“Can I see your computer?”
Sensus rolled his eyes and rotated the screen on his desktop, then slid it across the desk to Needle.
Needle stuck his finger in the hardened data port. There was a brief windup sound, and he removed his finger. “Done.”
Sensus grunted. “Nice little show. I’m sure you could have hacked through my wireless firewall.”
“Easily. But that would have been rude. Like asking a person to explain something and then telling them to just write a report.”
Sensus felt a wry grin spreading across his lips. “How long has it been since you’ve been to Samadhi?”
If Sentinels were given moving eye features and not fixed luminaries, Needle would have rolled his. “I hate that place.”
“And if I require it?”
“Then I’ll desert. Let me make one thing clear, General. My loyalty is to Briah. You know, the universe. And not you or any other political institution. I’ll follow your orders and give you salutes for as long as you remain useful to the common good.”
Sensus gave Solomon a disgruntled look. “Perfect. There’s two of you.”
“Heh heh,” laughed Needle. “Except I was here first. Never forget that.”
“I’m sure you won’t let me.”
“General, I came back to help. Don’t try to make me prove myself. If you can work with him,” Needle nodded toward Sol, “then you can work with me.”
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
And to that, Solomon laughed. “I’m done being compared to you, Needle. When I found myself unable to work within the confines of government, I chose to leave over making mincemeat of procedure.”
“Yes, abandoning your post was very noble.”
“Enough,” Sensus rubbed his temples. “Bicker on your own time. Needle, why did the duchess want Sol discredited, and to me personally?”
“So you wouldn’t protect him, obviously. She and the duke believed he had information that would benefit Albion and they wanted to control it. The duke and the duchess don’t often agree, but this time they did, so we met in private where she issued an illegal order, off the books, and the duke looked the other way. If you want my advice…”
“I want your compliance, not…”
“I really don’t like being interrupted, General. As I was about to say, don’t overthink the Quorum. And don’t mistake the Council for being anything other than a bloated version of the Quorum. The only real change is you, hence the manner of my return. Now, you want explanations, both of you? I’ll give them.
“You’re not wrong, Sol. I straddled both shores, following orders with one foot while pursuing my own investigations with the other. We have a common goal, Solomon. We both want to understand the threat we’re facing. But where you concerned yourself with the when and where and how, I wanted to know why. And lemme tell you, the answer is interesting.”
“I know about Othominian,” Sol said.
Sensus gave him a stern look. “More than you told me you did?”
“I never claimed ignorance. I only said I couldn’t tell you more at the time. The Tangents don’t just want to conquer Briah. There’s a creature far worse than any of them, and it’s found its way into Ulro. They want to seal it away, and their dimension won’t survive the process.”
“So, they’ll be making Briah their new home,” Sensus mused.
Needle pointed at Sensus, then to Sol, then back to Sensus. “No.”
“No?” Sol repeated.
“No. They never wanted to be in Ulro, nor in Briah. But what they do want is completely unattainable for them, and they’ll destroy everything trying to find it. I have one question to ask you both before explaining any more. What is Alvia to you?”
Sol spoke first, and without hesitation. “A myth that we’d be wise to take seriously.”
Sensus nodded his agreement.
“Huh. Okay. That’ll do, I suppose. Well, it turns out the planet of Othomo was real, and their technology was every bit as fantastical as the various legends suggest. They were on the cusp of that precious nirvana so many of us seek, and yet they rejected it. Then, when their homeworld, which happened to be the source of all their technological advantages, was consumed when the black hole they orbited got just a teensy bit bigger. So, they lost their edge, as you might suspect, and the few survivors faded into obscurity. All except for one. He was spirited away before his parents’ experiments with exotic particles failed to stop their singularity’s growth…”
Solomon grunted, incurring an odd look from Needle. “Go on,” he said.
“Has interrupting become a Harbinger custom? Unbelievable.”
Sensus steepled his fingers again. “Needle, continue.”
“Where was I? Othomo? Black hole sun? Yeah, one of them, the son of their two top scientists, he studies nirvana and...” he lifted his hands and wiggled his fingers, “fiddles with it, and I can only make the connection between that little folk legend and the fact that the Tangent Lords have battled for eons with something they call Othominian.”
“If only we had Alvia in its entirety,” said Sol. “The fragments that exist aren’t enough to corroborate this.” He lifted a hand, causing Needle to halt in his protest. “I agree with you, Needle. I might not trust you professionally, but I won’t debate you in these matters. From what I learned from Orak’s outriders, Ulro is in a sad state. If they really are battling some creature that’s more powerful than they are, then perhaps fighting them would be a mistake.”
“No,” said Needle, “by all means fight them! Read my report to learn my sources, but they intend to do us great harm. We need to thwart their fiendish plans and save the universe, my friends. And, you know, plug the hole this Othominian character is trying to worm through.”
“Oh, is that all?” said Sensus.
“C’mon, you’re the Harbingers! And you’ve got my people, and the regular people, and the exo people, and Albion. And that’s a big deal. This ship is special, in case you haven’t noticed.”
Win the loyalty of the captain, Sensus thought. “You said Eno’s not the key. Elaborate on that.”
“I believe it was the Gnomon who said that, but if you want me to elaborate, my guess is that there’s some dormant system that would suit our purposes better.”
“Eno has yet to disappoint,” Solomon replied.
“Oh? Did your young lieutenant finally get her fired up?”
“Director Omri did, actually,” said Solomon.
Needle leaned back in his chair and gave them both a look of shock. “You boys have been busy. Well, I’m impressed. You got the Artifexus to be useful. That is no small feat, mind you.”
“Let’s keep things simple,” said Sensus.
“I’d love to,” said Needle.
“Whatever the Tangents’ endgame is, we need to stop them. But I don’t want to ignore a larger threat, if there is one. It seems we need to drive them back before they gain any more of a foothold, then find a way to close off our space from theirs once and for all, and let them deal with this Othominian.”
Needle followed Sensus’s comment with an exaggerated nod. “I like the part about us fighting the enemy. That’s good. Not sure how we’re gonna seal off Ulro, though. It’s not like it’s a toilet seat that we can just remember to close. I mean, we’re talking about existential physics here, General.”
“You just said we need to plug the hole.”
“I was… paraphrasing? Look, they’re using vibrational frequencies to... Sol, tell me you figured out how they’re getting through. You have to have at least figured that out.”
“Yes, Needle, I’m aware of the resonance spell.”
Needle stared blankly for a few seconds. “You’re adorable, you know that? Truly precious. Anyways, General, there’s nothing for us to seal. We need to stop them dir... really, Sol? A spell? As in magic? What’s gotten into you? No, General, don’t shoosh me. That was... okay, okay. Let’s call it a spell. We got three powerful wizards casting a spell that opens a magical gate into our realm for their soldiers to invade us through. Do we put a cork in it? Or do we shoot missiles through the gate and kill the wizards?”
“Missiles,” Solomon grunted. “Why didn’t we think of that?”
“Hey, he said to keep it simple. Should I be talking to Melody about this?"
“I want a mission proposal uploaded by tomorrow at oh-six hundred. I’ll schedule a meeting with the Section Chiefs and Divisional Command to review your report and proposal for dealing with the Tangents.”
“Can I…” he gestured to Sensus’s computer. He slid it over to him and Needle again plugged his finger into the jack. “Anything else you want uploaded while I’m still plugged in? I’ve got a killer quiche recipe. The Shadow Children would love it.”
Sensus cast his aura around Solomon. “I want him in Samhadi as soon as we’ve finished here.” He withdrew his aura.
“… palates routine…” Needle stopped talking when Sensus refused to respond.
“Just the report and the proposal. Needle, thank you for coming back and helping Sol. It won’t be forgotten.”
Sensus didn’t like the way the Sentinel looked at him. Though their eyes only shifted color and luminosity, and their mouths remained still while lights danced to accompany their speech and indicate mood, everything about this Sentinel’s posture indicated suspicion.
“Do you know why I was put in this prison, General?”
“I know very little about you, Needle.”
“I was an intelligence operative. Before this…” he raised his hands palms up. “I specialized in interrogations.”
“I don’t see how that would incur an eternity of imprisonment.”
“Well, we went and lost our war. I decided my love was for the work and not my country, so I accepted the offer to switch sides.” He lifted his arms in a sudden and exaggerated shrug. “How was I supposed to know our enemy was a moral one? They considered traitors the worst kind of criminals. That nation… that moral nation, was called Terra United, and my jailor was a man by the name of Doctor David Yamin.”
Sensus met Sol’s skeptical glance, then turned intently back to Needle. “You’re one of the first Sentinels?”
“No, I’m the first Sentinel.” He waved his hand dismissively. “We’re going way off track here. I’m just saying, don’t lie to me. About anything. I’ll know. And I like being lied to about as much as I like being interrupted.”
“I’ve got some honesty for you.”
Needle turned his head to Sol. “You’re one of the few, Solomon.” He opened his arms wide. “Lay it on me.”
“After hearing your story just now, how can you expect us to trust you?”
Needle put a hand innocently on his chest. “You mean, because of something I did during the Fall of Ares War, you don’t trust me now?”
“I’ve never trusted you. You’re a goddamn mercenary.”
“Solomon! Did you kiss Imogen with that mouth?”
“Why you…”
Sensus rose with Sol and pointed across the table at him. “Sol! Stand down.”
Sol stood there, bathed in golden light that licked his extremities like the slow flames at the head of a torch. His feet were inches above the floor and the furniture was beginning to shake.
Needle was unafraid. He watched Sol studiously, and when he spoke, he was disturbingly calm. “Ulro does change a man, doesn’t it. Just think, General, you’ll soon have a whole team of warriors like him. In my professional opinion, Red Orak doesn’t stand a chance.”
Needle’s voice, deep and smooth with subtle grit, was hypnotic. Sensus had to snap himself out of a stupor when the machine man spoke about Sol. His hand had fallen. He raised it again and held his hand open to his mentor. “Solomon, please.”
“I don’t how I missed it,” Needle said as Sol diffused, “but you’re not wearing your harness. All that raw power, now completely unbridled. Or is it… no, not unbridled. The opposite. You finally have total control of your radiance now. Oh, you are precious Solomon. And dangerous. No wonder your minions think you’re sacred.”
Solomon snarled. Golden arcs sparked between his eyelids.
“I’m not going to Samhadi, General. And don’t think the Shadow Children can make me.”
He rose casually to his feet. “You don’t trust me? Fine. You don’t know me, either of you, so why trust a stranger? All you have is my reputation, unsavory, granted, and an awful story about my past. I recommend you have Eno inspect your computer for worms, General. Even I can’t hack her. You’ll see that I did not contaminate any of your files. And, afterward, I hope you feel ashamed of your prejudice. I know, I know, I’m being antagonistic. It’s my nature. Before I go, I want to offer you an olive branch. You both deserve an answer to Solomon’s question. I'm a scumbag, gentlemen. I’m not like you. You have honor, courage, and lots of other nice qualities that I don’t. But I don’t wanna die. And I really don’t wanna lose. I learned on the day my soul was quantified that the most dangerous enemies are idealists. Because you can’t bribe or negotiate with a moral people. Albion is a haven for moral people and idealists. So, like I said before, Red Orak doesn’t have a chance.” He turned to leave, pausing in the doorway to look halfway over his shoulder and muttered: “I labor upward into futurity.”
After he left, Sensus and Sol locked eyes, speaking their deep misgivings with a shake of their heads.