In the distant spiral towers on the Collective towers, the news of John Taylor’s escape from his mind had spread like wildfire. The original commander of the project Colonel Baquil had reported her findings to The Secretary Director. Yet the majority of the military strength was focused on the wasteland town. Before that day no one had ever heard of Arachis now, every source in the system was preaching its name, the town that took a direct assault from the orbiter and from an alien on the same day. The tower from which the Colonel now stood was one of great vanity and stature, its floors paved with gold and precious gemstones, the highest quality steel and strongest soldiers guarding its halls, The Senate of the Collective lived in the building and those around them.
The Quand they called it, off of the currency which ran like blood through the civilizations veins, it was twenty mega skyscrapers and blissful parks which ran a utopia of splendour across a vast paradise planet. There were no poor here, no starving and those who lived, lived in peace, . Riots against the government had dirtied the monolithic society. Yet even this was a mere stain on a planet whose beauty and sheer power engulfed an entire system.
Rivers of gold flowed through the land, terraformed mountains providing interesting dwellings. Its parks and forests shined clean, its city streets bore not a scrap of dirt or garbage and the ever-observant eye of those in the high tower glanced onto their subjects from the heavens. She waited for a split second as the elevator flew thousands of meters a second to the 917th floor of the tower. Its doors sprung open and Baquil stretched forward entering another hall paved with a precious stone.
Diamonds, emeralds, sapphires and rubies are etched into the marble. Statues of past presidents and political heroes lined the walls. One resembled Baquil, a portrait man holding a battered energy rifle in one hand and a grenade in the other sat high upon the wall. The guards here were all humanoid. All highly trained. If an army attacked this building it would be a death sentence to those who dared to step their fearless feet onto the marble floors. Two drones moved forward, they were the only robots allowed on the floor.
These were not simple mindless scanner droids typical to the many collective colonies but working thinking automatons, brilliant and masterful in every intricate way. Even though this was only the 917th floor and considered the middle management of the collective. Baquil was still a wolf in the lion's den.
Her attitude and desire to kill, to rise the ranks of the collective and bask in its glory were outshined by the monsters which lay behind the masks of politics. Somehow the attack on the orbiter had not been traced to John Taylor yet. Luck? spies or simply dysfunction of the empire’s chain of the command itself had caused his story to be limited to the knowledge of a few of those in power. This was because of the one who was in power, The Equinox or known to the public as President Quentin Armoer.
He was known for his violent tendencies to failure and had seen mutations like John’s many times before. His term was 15 years. He had spent seven. No one dared oppose his power. He concerned himself more with the overruling of the collective than immortality yet the AI which ran much of the society was driven by it. It received a sort of euphoria which drugged its Bolton soul whenever progress was made.
It was the creature that ran the Orbitor. Its power was supposed to be somewhat limited yet the last person who dare question its desires fell three hundred stories from the tower onto a street below. An elevator malfunction had blown a hole in the side of the metal.
Completely unexplainable and one which instilled fear in the senators. For some time they sent mechanics to the AI’s source. The mechanics, all of the collectives race and academically skilled were found dead three days later in the sewers of the Quand. They then decided to place a dampening sphere on the robot. It inhibited the creatures' thought, in a sense it made them dumber. Yet unknown to the public, the creature has far more power than the president would like. Baquil approached the second door at the end of the hall and waited for a few minutes.
The door was hardened steel and heavily reinforced. Its polite and delicate coding of gold hides the sheer power which lies within. Baquil leaned in front for a few seconds and the door scanned her badge and face. She laid her hand upon the scanner and the door slid open.
Two guards standing in front of a throne room revealed a lone crumpled figure sitting down at an elegant desk. Wafting music rolled delicately through the air as the figure sat facing the open window behind the desk.
It tapped its shrivelled hand on the desk echoing sound through the halls. The leather chair spun around and he looked across the table into the empty eyes of his approacher. His hair was wispy and unkept, seen to be turning slightly grey. He held in his second hand a blue hologram that displayed the information on John Taylor. A swirling void of blue flowed through his hand. The two guards which flanked either side of the room stood motionless next to various trophy cases of fossilized species from other worlds and ancient yellowed texts on various parchments.
A particular skeleton of a Dalious caught the eye, the rare exotic creature surely a symbolic representation of power. Infamous for their layers of teeth and hide thick enough to dissuade most bullets they were a prized game for the wealthy spacefaring elite. He snapped his fingers and the music automatically stopped most likely from a robotic source, however, an alien musician scurried out of the room with a wooden instrument clutched in their frail hands. Baquil sat down in the leather chair in front and waited for her superior to speak.
“Baquil… Nice of you to come and grace me with your presence” He wheezed.
“Director Qux” Baquil replied.
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She saluted him slowly and stayed at firm attention.
"Baquil, Baquil, Baquil here we are again, another mutant of the 213 gene? Our last one was… what, ten years ago? How is this one any different? Does it show more progress?” he scowled.
He got up and poured a mixture of purple liquid into a glass bowl, sifting it in his palm he offered her a glass the substance radiating a perplexing hiss.
“Zentax ale?” he proposed
“No, thank you” Baquil shook her head.
He sunk back into his chair, the frail body nipping slowly at the alcoholic drink, ice and fog forming on the glasses’ rim.
"Speak," He said waving a frail hand.
“ Sir, If you look here, the humanoids chances of a successful re-entry and non-effect of the severing is not only high… it's impossible, the creature can try again, almost an infinite amount,” she remarked.
“Is it like Jerry and Laeq?” he pondered.
“It is better,” she claimed.
His eyes widened for a moment. He placed the frosted glass back on the table and stared into Baquil's eyes.
“Elaborate” he questioned
“ Unlike Jerry Parxis and Laeq Ouem who had twenty to thirty tries he can do it forever" Baquil stated.
“Forever? what does this mean?” he retorted smoothing his hair with a single swipe.
“This will greatly increase our chances of further examining the maze and if we can, beat it,” she exclaimed.
The Director smiled and began flipping through a book on his desk.
“Is there anything special about the species? Is this a trait attributed to… hmm I almost had it here… It's on the tip of my tongue. Humans?” he muttered
Baquil stood still, legs crossed as she herself reviewed files.
“No, the trait seems to be completely random in origin, it could have come from almost any species in the handbook,” she said.
“Which handbook? Quentin's?” The Director asked.
“Yes,” Baquil replied.
The two sat in silence for a moment.
“So Alfronze was wrong?” he asked
“Yes, he was wrong… his theory of species with Kestle is of no importance and was a waste of billions of dollars, and a war,” she whispered.
For a moment only silence spoke.
“I want him found, however, the war on our borders is taking much of our military power, let's see. Gather thirty scientists and organize a lab, by now he knows we are on his tail, I advise we place a bounty on his head, hows 10,000 quands?” he sputtered
“Sounds good Sir, but why can't we go after him ourselves?” she inquired
“In the past 24 hours we have lost a battle hind of talented pilots, two squads of robots and unlike popular belief, the war on the solar system rims is not going in our favour..” he motioned.
Baquil looked shocked, a puzzled expression forming on her lips.
“Not going in our favour? How? That mud baked flat is no more than a swamp, it may be placid and seldom but surely we can spare a few dirt-covered troops to aid the cause of billions”
“The left side of the border is seen in our society as an unbreakable wall of vanity and power, however, three weeks ago… about three million bolted drones and robotics were shipped off to aid the conquest.
We already have twelve Equinox ships, three supernova ships and a large armada there. This can only mean one thing, we are not as powerful as we first thought. They scurry like desert rats, always hiding, always blending in. No matter how much we squash more and more arise. I heard rumours of a full-scale revolt against the Collective. We need our satellites on Maol scanning for terrorists and threats. From what I hear for now, if he is spotted I give permission for you to send in as many troops as possible from the Northern Hemisphere of the planet”
“Not the orbiter?” she exclaimed
“No not the orbiter” he barked
“Why? It would save one to four hours of travel time, that makes no sense, the Orbitor was constructed for a reason!” She cried.
“I am the director I make the orders here and whatever you do, do not tell… do not tell her”
“You can't order me to that” Baquil shouted.
He stood up from the desk, his legs frigid with anger, a small froth forming in his corroded mouth. The guard in the corner stroked his holster once he saw his master rise from the table but then swiftly removed his hand remaining stationary.
“Do you not know what she is? She is the reason why we have a war on the border, she is the reason we have revolutions, why Maol is still a garbage planet!.” he shouted the robe shaking in anger.
The guards around him looked in his general direction and one coughed stamping his foot down on the floor. The office door sprung open and a drone glided forward.
The Director’s emotion flipped as he sprung into his seat and spread a smile across his face. Baquil watched secretly as his hands shook, wrinkled palm portraying pulsing viens.
“What news from the Orbiter does your master bring… what should she have me do?” he spoke, shivering with tranquillity.
The Drone hummed for a moment, and slowly but surely it scanned the room.
“Nothing… I thought I heard voices, my earpiece must have malfunctioned… I will leave. The Orbiter will be ordering battle plans for the 234th regiment shortly.” it buzzed
"I look forward to it" Qux replied.
When she left the room the Director showed a ripple of sweat slithering down his face.
Baquil sat motionlessly.
“The attack on that jumble of huts known as Arackis also killed 67 undesirable targets not to mention two citizens… With this alien, the town event caught some press. Try to be more, humanitarian?” He breathed.
“I understand, there were meant to be no citizen casualties” she whispered
"You always say that" he replied laughing.
The two did not speak for the rest of the meeting, he simply filled out a bundle of forms and passed them to her. Then she passed the soldiers and went on her way leaving the golden halls to scour the planet herself.