The doors opened and Solomon stepped through, not waiting for the others. He led the way down the stairs, only pausing when he heard Omri’s footsteps behind him. He let her open the next bay of doors, and the next, making sure to keep the group moving. It was a long way to the Captain’s Chair, afterall, and time was short.
“Have we learned anything more about the Surge invasion?” Omri asked as they covered a long stretch of dimly lit hallway.
“Only that our intel was good,” Sensus replied.
“And that’s enough,” Solomon added.
“You don’t need to know how many troops they’re sending? Or where they’ll land first?”
“No,” Solomon said. “When they attack, you either run or hit them with a weapon you regret having had to use.”
“Like a micro-collider?”
Solomon was quiet, waiting for his anger to subside before speaking. “Hopefully, Director, you never have cause to eat those words.”
“Sol,” warned Sensus, “she wasn’t at your hearing.”
“Did I speak out of turn?”
She sounded defeated, and Solomon regretted his sharp reaction.
“Needle took part in the hearing and corroborated his innocence,” Sensus explained.
“Needle?” She sounded more afraid than confused. “He’s onboard?”
“Yes,” Solomon answered.
“Shouldn’t he be out... scouting?”
“He brought back some good intel on the kzin,” Sensus explained.
“And cleared my name. I don’t trust him, but he’s earned some leave.”
Solomon looked at Melody. The mention of Needle visibly disturbed her. She folded her arms around herself and drooped her head.
Sensus beat Solomon to the topic. “You seem bothered. Have you had dealings with Needle that I should know about?”
“No. He just... When a soldier is as capable as he is, it’s frightening. That’s all.”
“Melody...” Solomon spoke so soothingly he almost purred. “You’re safe with us. Needle is under the general’s command now.”
She laughed.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“It’s okay.”
Their feet did the talking then, conversing with the cavernous hallway and the bundles of armored cable thick as trees that oozed out of airtight ports, then wrestled with each other once they hit the ground on their seemingly endless paths to deposit data or power. They were silent till they took a hairpin turn down a steeply descending ramp.
“What will you do now, Mr. Solomon?” Melody asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Your name is cleared. Will you serve under General Sensus?”
“If he’ll have me.”
“We need to devise a rank and position that allows him the autonomy he needs,” Sensus explained.
Melody nodded, then proceeded to ask a series of questions that were even more mundane, filling them time until they stood outside the final chamber where they could speak with ‘The Captain’.
They waited in a nexus of pathways. Some were large, airy, steeply declined hallways like the one they came down. Others were tunnels cut into the ceiling from varied angles. The tunnels puked cables and pipes that spread like open hands, or armies of snakes maybe, all splayed and twisting into new paths where they mingled with other cables. Rarely could Solomon find where one emerged and trace it to its terminus.
Melody seemed paralyzed. Her arm lifted robotically to point around a dark corner some forty paces away. Light flickered from somewhere in the shadows. “They’re in there.”
They followed her reluctant pace, unsure what to expect. The concept was simple enough; using the same old tech that encased criminal minds in Sentinel bodies, with all their psychological governors and linkage to Samhadi in place, a human mind was infused into the primary node of Albion’s command access processor. This allowed for the human crew to more directly influence the ship’s operations, rather than make requests to Eno and hope she complies. But there was a presence that bothered Solomon. He felt it under his skin and behind his eyes, As they got closer, they heard sounds; electrical arcs, metal clanging, melodic humming and a cautioning voice.
“Careful. It’s gotta be on their perfect, son. There you go... whoop. Okay let’s try it again.”
Around the corner, another fifty paces or so, and they turned into a vast room, its walls covered in ribbed and segmented conduit. Some of the cables were wider around than an athlete's shoulders. There was a pit in the floor which many bundled cables spewed out of, connecting to various monitors and processing nodes. The Captain’s chair was not the tower of processors Solomon expected. What remained was strewn about the floor, and the hardware part of the Captain’s body now rode on a mobile track. Actuated limbs and swingarm mounted screens protruded from three conjoined outcroppings of scavenged tech.
“There she is,” said her father. An appendage with a camera mounted on its end perked, and soon all three screens were angled towards her. Pixelated distortions moved in waves, the machine’s picture of its human selves.
“Hi, Dad,” she said. “Hey mom. Hey goober.”
“Song!” said the smallest screen.
Melody gestured towards Sol and Sensus. “Guys, this is General Sensus and Mr. Solomon.”
“We know who they are,” said her mother, the mid-sized screen. “The whole ship knows who they are.”
“I don’t remember you getting a promotion, General Sensus,” said her dad. “You have my congratulations.”
Senses bowed his head. “Thank you, Professor Omri.”
“Please, call me Brynden.”
Solomon stood quietly, watching Melody’s facial expressions. She seemed to take a deep breath before her next words.
“So, dad, what did Doctor Hassufson say?”
“Doctor who?” said her mother.
“Hassufson,” her dad replied. “He’s a trauma surgeon, right? I don’t know him personally. Why would he have anything to say to me?”
“Sure you know him, dad. He’s been treating you for that gunshot wound.”
“Gunshot wound?” the mother asked.
“Song,” said her brother. “Can we pway videow games? I’m too tiwed to go outside.”
“Sure, buddy. I just wanna check on Dad first.”
The father screen stared motionlessly while the other two darted back and forth.
“What are you talking about, Melody?” asked her mother.
“Mom, I know it’s hard to talk about...”
“It’s hard to talk about because it didn’t happen.”
“He said I’ll be fine,” her dad finally responded. “I just need to rest.”
“He’ll be up on his feet in no time.”
“No. I won’t.”
Her mother was quiet. The boy had several pieces of metal bent into vaguely animal shapes. He was making them fight, clashing them together with his makeshift arms and hands. Solomon looked around the mess of machinery all about the room and lining the walls. Here and there he thought he saw missing components. He would then look back at the Captain and their ‘body’.
“I won’t walk again, will I?”
Melody spoke slowly, her voice threatening to shake. “I don’t know, Dad? The doctor’s aren’t as creative as you, so I wouldn’t take their word for it.”
“Yew think of something dad,” said the boy. He had picked up a pinwheel made of materials gathered from a nearby conduit.
“He always thinks of something,” said the mother. “He’ll be fine.”
“Ethan won’t,” said the father. “And neither will I.”
They kept playing, and the mother’s screen began glowing a soft, loving pink shade. Her limbs, four in number, reached out to hug the boy and mimic the motions of straightening the father’s necktie. Then the screen turned red, then violet, then a fading blue. “They’ll both be fine, because I’ll always look after them. Melody will be fine, too. She always looks after herself. We’ll all be fine.”
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
And the two screens went dark, leaving their limbs hanging limp.
“Melody,” said the father.
“Hey Dad.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“I wish I didn’t have to forget each time. I hate putting you through this.”
“It’s okay, Dad. It’s kinda fun, even if it makes me sad.”
“It’s too much of a burden for you. There’s got to be a way for others to interface with me.”
“That’s why I was directed to you,” Sensus said, speaking softly.
She nodded.
“It’s because of my family’s consciousnesses,” said the father. “I would never have agreed to this. She must have forged my signature or pleaded to some of the softer hearted Sentinels. She must have gone through monumental lengths. I didn’t want this. I wanted Ethan to be a happy little boy for as long as he could. He had at least five years. Longer with Eno’s help. Why? Julie, why?”
Melody practically ran forward and put her hands on the trifecta of amalgamized machine towers. “Dad, you were essentially dead, and they had to rush the procedure. You don’t actually remember these things. Your mind is just filling in blanks.”
“You have to remind me of this every time, don’t you?”
She nodded.
“I’m so sorry, Melody. I promise to find a way to fix this so anyone with authorization can interface with us. Or, with me, I guess. Am I the only one operating?”
“Yes, Dad. Mom just wanted to be with you and Ethan.”
“Why didn’t she wait?”
“Ethan was getting worse. Mom was too. I’m sorry. I tried to stop her. She begged us. Begged me. I told her no. But the Sentinels backed her up. I don’t know why.”
“It’s how they think, Mel They go into their dream world and all their troubling thoughts are purged. I’m sure they thought they were doing us good.”
“Yeah.”
She let a few tears out, or they escaped without her permission. Then she looked up at her father’s screen. “Dad, the General needs to speak with you. And Dad, things are pretty dire in the ship.”
“I figured. You guys made some very subtle inquiries it seems. And this visit is cleverly off the books. I always heard you were a sly one, Mr. Solomon.”
He smiled, though he resented the reputation. “Serving Albion requires subtlety from time to time.”
“Sure does. So, what can I do you for?”
Melody groaned.
Solomon caught his mouth as it began to open, then watched approvingly as Sensus spoke to the Captain.
“We are surrounded by enemies. Orak has enlisted the kzinti, and they’ve either slaughtered or driven other cultures from their homes. We also have intel that the Surge will be joining the fray.”
“Has Orak brought his knights?”
“Yes.”
“Have any Harbingers been lost?”
“Yes. Including my own team.”
“I’m sorry, General.”
“There’s hope they can be brought back. Solomon believes they’ve crossed through the Verge into Ulro.”
“Is that what we’re calling that place now?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” The Captain was quiet for a moment, the warm hum of machinery providing accompaniment for his thought. “Why do you think they crossed over to Ulro, Mr. Solomon? Are you still a Section Chief, by the way?”
“I’m not currently holding a rank, my Captain. And I crossed over myself, so I know it can be done.” He saw the others looking at him with restrained surprise. He understood. It was not the thing admitted, but the suddenly easy admission that surprised them. “I have yet to open up about my time there with anyone. Partly because it was very traumatizing, even for an old warrior like myself.”
“I imagine so. I appreciate you being forthcoming with me. Though I’m not sure what I’ve done to earn your trust.”
“You were always a selfless man, Brynden. Your reputation was known all across Albion.”
“Oh, you’re too much. Okay, continue. Tell me what we’re up against and what I can do to help.”
“We’re up against near deities, Captain. The near-ascendant.”
Another prolonged moment passed to the hum of the Captain’s quantum thought. “I always believed there was a chance ascension was a real thing. But honestly, I never once considered the creatures from across the Verge would be what we all have to look forward to.”
“They’re not. They are broken and aberrations, but they are near-ascendant all the same.”
“I see. Well, I hate to prod you on such a painful topic, but I need to know more. I need to hear you say what you experienced.”
To the mundane eye, the slight change in the room’s lighting would have gone unnoticed.
Solomon stepped forward and clasped his hands behind his back. “I used illegal tactics to destroy almost an entire cohort of Archeus outriders. Only their captain survived, and he dragged me back as a prisoner, or a trophy. He cut me into fourths and put me into Anunnaki, where I suffered the fractal screams of my kindred. I even heard voices I recognized. Because I was not as fragmented as the others, I was able to win control over all four vessels. I snuck each of them away, and eventually I was able to free myself. The remnants of those Anunnaki followed me, and I hoped they could be resurrected as they once were, but they were too fragmented, and so they developed a new consciousness and identity.”
“The Shadow Children,” said Sensus. In his eyes was a fear delayed, a realization that an uncomfortable guess proved true.
“Yes.”
The Captain sighed and hidden fans came to life, cooling and sanitizing the air. “I thought they were just some elusive exo species, or proto-Harbingers maybe.”
“No. They are shards of our fallen brethren’s souls, splintered and reviled.”
“The ones who follow you seem different than any encountered in Briah,” Sensus said.
“Because they had me to comfort them and give them purpose. And I gave them answers as well.”
“How did you escape?” Melody asked. She seemed torn between suspicion and empathy.
“There is something alive in Ulro that is not ascendant or mortal or born of radiance. I thought it to be a Shadow Child at first, but he’s more. Much more. He helped me.”
She nodded. His answer seemed to be enough, at least for now.
“Okay,” said her father. “I need to know more about the threat we’re facing.”
“I saw a great many things I don’t understand, and I have many theories. What I can say with confidence is that our task is Herculean. Some incredible power has manifested in Ulro, and it has these mighty beings in its grip. They want to destroy it, or at least those of them who are still somewhat sane do. But their means will leave our galaxy in ruins. They have power beyond our imaginations, and command armies that we do not know how to defeat. But for now, they are gathering enemies we know. We must make full use of all we have.”
“And the most potent gift we have this ship,” said Brynden.
“Yes,” said Sensus.
“As the Captain, I’m not much more than a navigational interface. I do serve as an intersystem communications hub, however. I could play Ratatoskr and guide the governing consciousnesses to specific conclusions.”
“That would give us a profound advantage,” Sensus said.
“It’s limited, so don’t expect too much at first.”
“Anything you can do. I should tell you, Captain, that Eno recommended I approach you. I spoke with her in Oak before coming here.”
“Ahh. I noticed that node sparking.”
Sensus stepped forward. “Your daughter provided that spark.”
“That’s my girl.”
Sensus looked as moved as Solomon felt. He looked at Melody before continuing. “Brynden, you mentioned consciousnesses. Who besides Eno controls the ship?”
“There are many, and most of them barely conscious. Eno is the primary mind, but she’s an administrator. The final authority is an unthinking protocol.”
“Duke Salamanca wants us to flee this space, but we believe we need to fight. Could you see to it Albion is not coveted by cowards?”
“I have to obey legal orders. Unless… In times of crisis, I can engage certain overrides. And if I can activate Shaka, I’ll have both him and Eno to reason with, making it even harder for the duke to subvert the ship.”
“Shaka?” Melody asked. “Whose Shaka, Dad?”
“A wild and crazy guy! Sorry, kid. I miss embarrassing you. He’s the Eno of the ship’s weapons and shields. I know what you’re gonna say, but Albion’s true combat systems have not yet been activated.”
“I had an inkling that was the case,” said Sensus. “The ship’s point defense systems have been a match for any enemy foolish enough to come close.”
“And those moments were few,” Solomon added. “How can we activate this Shaka?”
“Gimme a second,” said Brynden. And it only took him a second. “Guys, you’re not gonna like the answer to that question.”
There was a quiet moment where each of them exchanged a look, settling on Melody, who shrugged to say ‘Don’t look at me,’.
“What is the answer?” Solomon asked.
“Well, Albion’s systems seem to have been… drugged is the analogy I would use. I should tell you now that… oh god.”
Tension instantly gripped Solomon, and from the eyes of the others, them as well.
“Dad?” said Melody.
“Sorry, Mel. General, did your intel on the Surge come with a timeframe?”
“No. Only evidence that the enemy was expecting their approach.”
“Well, Albion constantly manufactures deep space microprobes that return at regular intervals. This is how we have such accurate data coming in from so far away. Well, when you mentioned the Surge I began an assessment of the probe data with them as a filter, and it seems the Surge have been creeping along for quite some time, slowly enough and in small numbers so as not to be noticed. They’ve been gathering in remote asteroid fields and massing near a central rally point. That rally point isn’t very far, and they just launched.”
"All of them?" asked Sol.
Brynden was quiet for a moment. "The Onslought is oming, but as always they're further behind. Still..."
“How long?” Sensus asked.
“I’d say we have a month before the first wave.”
“And Shaka?” asked Sensus. “How does one wake a drugged machine consciousness?”
“Melody woke Eno,” said Solomon.
“Oi,” said Brynden. “Guys, I’m sorry. I wish I had better answers for you. I can only see one way to get Shaka fully activated.”
Another pause.
“And that is?” asked Sensus, his irritation showing in his jaw.
“The duke wants to run away?” asked Brynden.
“Yes.”
“I’m tired of that prick getting what he wants. Okay. You guys are right. This ship was made for a higher purpose than that ass hat could ever conceive of, and my governing protocols, drugged though they be, align more with your vibe.”
“You’re with us then?”
“Yeah, General. I’m with you.”
“And Shaka?”
“Oh, yeah. Oh boy. Okay. Like I said, we’re gonna have to need him. I can tell by your heartrates you’re all in denial, so I’ll spell it out…”