"I believe that this thing of ours is winding to a close." Esmeralda Oz said as she looked at the old hund sitting in a rocking chair on his back porch.

He had been ancient when they first met, but was now quickly passing on to ruin. She could almost feel the decay setting in, the brittleness of his bones, thinness of his skin. But his fur, instead of going gray, had resolved itself to an inky black that threatened to drink the light. And his warm brown eyes were clear as ever. There was also a band of liquid gold around his eyes which seemed out of place, ostentatious on such an austere old hund.

Kerner Braverhund let out a raspy chuckle as he slowly and painfully got up from his rocking chair to greet the warden. He stretched his arms wide and embraced her warmly. "Soon, but not today. I will still drag myself from my grave a few more times yet."

The warden helped him back to his seat and sat down next to him in the rocking chair that had once been Ani's. It was cool, but not cold. The breeze was light and midday sunshine held off the worst of the chill.

Kerner smiled. "I died last week." He said, matter of factly.

"Oh?" Esmeralda raised an eyebrow, wondering if this was more of the dry Döbian humor she had become familiar with over the last two years. "How was it?"

"Peaceful, so peaceful." The old hund pointed to a pair of fresh marble gravestones next to an apple tree that was just beginning to bloom. "They buried me next to Ani. My children and grandchildren tried to keep a brave face, but luckily I taught them better than that and they let themselves weep, eventually."

“I don’t get the joke.” Esmeralda said.

“It’s not a joke. Go, see for yourself.” Kerner gestured towards the headstones. “Then once you understand we will be able to talk freely.”

With growing apprehension Esmerlda stood up and walked over to inspect the graves. It was just as he had said, two headstones, two names, two patches of recently disturbed earth. She felt her wetware translate the quote on Ani’s grave and laughed.

“If you can read this, you are within range.” Esmeralda read aloud. Yes, that was Ani, a sniper to the very end. It suited her.

But Kerner’s gravestone was troubling, beneath the name and dates were just two words in thick block letters. ICH WARTE. it said.

“I am waiting.” Esmerlda translated, feeling an unseasonable chill run over her as she looked back at Kerner. He nodded back slowly from his rocking chair.

She opened her mind and let her consciousness expand, processing information from the sensors inside her head and from Haven itself. She was a hybrid creature, a synergistic blend of wetware and flesh, the peak of human achievement.

At first all she saw were two weak signals, degrading wetware from the occupants of the graves at her feet. Hund wetware was modeled after human technology and could run for nearly forever as long as it had something to break down for fuel. In a healthy body it used a fuel cell that could convert blood glucose to energy, but it seemed that this one was using some other source of power. It was also networked.

She could feel the gossamer thin ripples of low power radio waves emanating from the graves, packets of information riding along like beads of dew on a spider's web. The dead were talking to each other. But why? She expanded her mind's reach, trying to see where all the threads were headed, the nodes where they overlapped.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

But there was no central hub, no center. Just millions of low powered systems spread out across Homeworld. It even stretched all the way to Haven. How was that possible? And what was the purpose of this network? Was it hostile? Was it a threat?

Trying to get a picture of the complete system was like opening your eyes underwater and trying to see the ocean. It was vast, deep, and dark. But there was something there, a gateway. She could feel it, beckoning to her, pulling her in.

There was no clear transition. One second Esmeralda was standing next to the graves and the next she was in a long hallway, reaching for an old green wooden door with a weathered brass knob. Dreamlike, she didn’t question her surroundings as her fingers brushed the cool metal.

Kerner shouted, snapping her back to reality. "NEIN!”

Esmeralda jumped backwards in shock. It felt so real, like a full body simulation. Her heart was racing as she returned to the porch and sat down, trying to calm herself. Nothing should have been able to infiltrate her systems, yet it had warped her consciousness without her even noticing. “What would have happened if I opened the door?” She asked, still shivering.

Kerner shrugged. “Perhaps you would have died. Perhaps something worse. But you would have connected to something powerful and dangerous.” He sighed. “I briefly considered letting you destroy yourself, but Eden would not have wanted you to be hurt, not that you have given her much chance to know you.”

She felt that familiar pang of anxiety, longing mixed with fear. “How is she?” Esmeralda asked, kicking herself for being so weak and sentimental. Eden wasn’t really her daughter. She was just a means to an end, there was no reason for her to be so attached.

“Fantastisch!” Kerner smiled, warming up immediately as he thought of the child. “She is so curious about the world! Two years old and barely able to fend for herself. I see now why you humans are so protective of your young, you have to be otherwise they would not survive.”

Esmeralda frowned. “I can’t seem to find her. She is hidden from Haven’s sight.”

“Yes, I imagine that might have made it hard for you to execute your escape plan.” Kerner gave her a knowing look. “It takes two to open the gate, does it not?”

The air froze in Esmeralda’s lungs and her eyes went wide. “How could you possibly know that?” How could he possibly know about the gate?

The old hund shrugged. “That is what I do, I collect knowledge and power.”

“And you cannot die, apparently.” Esmeralda observed, beginning to understand just how much the balance of power between the hunds and humans had shifted. “It seems that you have become unstoppable in your old age.”

“Ja, but what good is it really?” Kerner lit a cigarette with an antique silver lighter and rocked in his chair. “My father told me once that he had ‘dragged me kicking and screaming towards greatness’. At the time I was insulted, but now I feel that perhaps it is an apt description. I have no wish to rule this world or any other.”

“Pittacus said that the measure of a man is what he does with power.” Esmeralda observed.

“And Charles M. Schulz said that happiness was a warm puppy.” Kerner said with another smile. “I am happy, my dear warden. I have done what I must and soon I will be able to lay down my burdens and sleep.”

“Sleep and wait.” Esmeralda said, remembering the inscription on his headstone. “What are you waiting for?”

“Oh… I will wait for Eden to call me. I have made her a promise that should she ever need me I will rise from my grave and stand by her side.” Kerner said matter of factly, as if he was talking about promising to be present at a child’s dance recital. “Now, I have other arrangements to take care of so I must leave. But thank you for paying me a visit. Please, feel free to visit my grave anytime if you wish to talk.”

Esmeralda looked at the two headstones under the apple tree. A soft breeze played with the branches. It was peaceful here. ”You know that your people are finished once the gate opens. The safeguards will burn this world with warpfire until nothing remains.” Eden said as she turned back to face Kerner. But he was already gone.

His lifeless corpse sat in the chair, eyes closed, not breathing, the rocking chair beginning to slow as its momentum dissipated. Her sensors told her that his heart had stopped beating and soon he would begin to decay. He looked like he was sleeping, an old hund taking a nap in the sun.

Esmeralda looked around for anyone that might stop her, but they were seemingly alone, nobody else for kilometers in either direction. She opened a link to her shuttle crew. “I need a pickup, two passengers.”

It felt wrong to desecrate his corpse, but she needed answers. Somehow the hunds had broken free of death and it was her duty to find out what was going on. She didn’t have the luxury of being sentimental. But still, it felt wrong.