Progeny (The Progenitor Trilogy, Book Three) (37 page)

              A handful of fat bellied transports touched down moments later in the cathedral grounds.  As the Arkari technicians and scientists from the shuttles prepared to unload their equipment, some of the predatory looking drones that had accompanied them inside the transports took up guard positions around the landing site, whilst others scuttled inside the cathedral to meet their mistress.

              Allaniko watched the two metre tall creatures in horror as they stalked towards the centre of the cathedral on jointed legs, their clattering footsteps oddly quiet despite their size and weight.  Sensors and manipulator arms packed the forward section of their torsos, forming a blunt head of sorts.  It seemed to Allaniko as if the mechanoids were scrutinising him – analysing him as one would analyse a specimen in a laboratory.  He tried to remain composed in the face of their soulless gazes.

              ‘I must insist,’ he began, addressing Beklide.  ‘I must insist that you respect the sanctity of this place.  The relics here are of incalculable value, the remains buried in the undercroft are very ancient and of great religious significance to our people.  Please, instruct these mechanical servants of yours to exercise the utmost care!’

              ‘I shall,’ Beklide replied.  ‘Perhaps, your Grace, if you would care to lead the way?’

              Later, at the centre of the world, Beklide stood and marvelled at the continent sized machines of the Progenitors, now rendered dead and silent, the chamber completely dark save for the illumination that the Arkari had set up in order to work and whose glow was lost inside the vast cylindrical space.  It had taken the Arkari some time to descend to the centre of the world.  Under Allaniko’s guidance they had entered the burial chamber in the cathedral’s undercroft that contained the entrance to what the Dendratha referred to as the Cave of Maran, in reality the entrance to the portal’s control centre.  Allaniko had remained on the surface, restrained by his religious respect and perhaps the fear of what he might find down below and what that would mean for his faith.  He remained in the burial chamber of the priests, standing guard over the remains of the long dead Dendratha, making sure that the Arkari and their mechanoids did not disturb their ancient corpses.

              The tunnel to the control centre had once contained the bodies of long dead Arkari and the remains of the mechanoids that their Banished cousins had become.  These had been removed for study two years previously by Mentith’s people.  The control room itself and the AI systems it contained had also been examined, but had been found to be damaged beyond repair by the actions of the Progenitor AI that had variously called itself Quickchild or Varish, the crystalline matrices fused into a molten mass. Fortunately, the lift down to the core of the planet was still in operation.  A relatively dumb system with a separate power source, it had escaped Varish’s destruction and took the Arkari smoothly down to the centre of the planet, returning time after time to transport more personnel and drones down to the great machines. The drones now explored the enormous, world piercing chamber that contained the ancient wormhole device, settling variously on one titanic piece of machinery or another.  Beklide could see their lights moving in the darkness.  The leader of the science team came and stood beside her and looked up too into the shadows.

              ‘I don’t suppose, Jardith, that there’s any chance of getting this thing working again, is there?’ said Beklide.  ‘I know what I told High Priest Allaniko, but...’

              ‘No, there isn’t,’ said Jardith.  ‘Mentith’s people provided us with a report showing that not only are the control mechanisms completely fused into un-repairable lumps of minerals, but that the power supply mechanisms have also been destroyed in a similar manner.’

              ‘That Progenitor AI certainly knew what it was doing when it sabotaged the device.  It intended that no-one should ever be able to use it again.’

              ‘Yes indeed, and with good reason considering the circumstances at the time.’

              ‘But it doesn’t prevent us from building our own, does it?’ said Beklide.

              ‘No, it does not,’ said Jardith.  ‘Preliminary studies of the portal’s workings were done by Special Operations Command.  It’s given us enough to go on to properly direct the next stage of our research.’

              ‘Keep me informed of all developments,’ said Beklide.  ‘We have much to learn and time is not on our side.’

Chapter 23

              Haines couldn’t tell how long they’d kept him down here in this barren, concrete cell.  The normal cycles of day and night had ceased to have any meaning as soon as they’d brought him here and they’d been trying to confuse his body’s internal rhythms ever since by leaving the lights on or off for days at a time, by waking him up as soon as they saw him drifting off to sleep or by acting as though night was day, day was night, morning was evening and so on.  He guessed that he’d been here perhaps a week or more, but really he couldn’t tell any more.  He been trained to resist this kind of torture, but the sleep deprivation was taking its toll.  He’d been trying to work on a way of falling asleep without making it too obvious to anyone looking through the cell’s cameras, propping himself up against the walls so that he didn’t slump over.  In this way, he been able to get brief snatches of shuteye, but he got the impression that they were on to him.

              What he couldn’t figure out, was why they were doing this to him.  They hadn’t asked him any questions and besides, they could learn anything that they wanted about him if they just implanted him with one of those things, destroying his mind in the process.  He was still alive, that was the important thing.

              The worst part, was that for a second time the Shapers had got the better of him.  He had trusted Dawson, come to rely on him.  All the time Dawson had been using him.  He wondered when the Shapers had taken him.  Was it after he had crashed on the moon, or had he been harbouring one of their agents for years?  How many others among the group were likewise infected?  Certainly not all of them were.  Haines had seen them die, torn apart by cybernetically augmented monsters that had exploded out of the undergrowth, some of which had once belonged to species that even Haines in his considerable experience had never encountered before.  He had shot Dawson through the face and had tried to run, only to be leapt upon and pinned to the floor by a creature resembling a four legged spider the size of a lion whose skull and abdomen sprouted strange, crystalline growths.  The last thing that he had seen before its venom rendered him unconscious was the figure of Dawson standing over him and laughing through his ruined, bloody face.  He had woken up here in this cell, been beaten until he had fallen unconscious once more by men who had called him a murderer and a butcher and then they had largely left him alone as far as direct, physical torture was concerned.

              He didn’t fancy his chances of escaping.  For a start, he was chained to the floor like an animal by his wrists and ankles and secondly he had no idea where he was or how long he had been out cold.  Was he underground, on the surface?  Was he even on the same planet anymore?  Perhaps he was on board a ship or a space habitat?  The latter two seemed less likely as he could detect no engine vibration through the floor and the gravity felt the same as before, but he couldn’t rule it out.  In any case, they weren’t likely to give him a chance to escape.  If they entered the cell at all, usually to feed him or to wake him again, men came in groups of four.  Two remained outside with guns pointed directly at him, whilst two entered the cell.  However, he was still alive.  Somebody wanted him alive for a reason or else they’d have killed him as soon as they got their hands on him.  It gave him a measure of hope, but on the other hand, he wondered what the hell they had in store for him.

              As he lay there in the darkness, the door suddenly banged open.  Squinting from the glare from the brightly lit corridor outside, Haines saw a broadly built figure outlined in shadow.  As the figure entered the cell, the lights came on and Haines saw that it was Admiral Morgan, with a handful of planetary defence force troopers.  One of the soldiers brought a metal chair in for the Admiral and he sat.  Haines looked up from his sitting position on the floor and sneered dismissively. Morgan instructed the soldiers to wait outside.

              ‘Come to gloat, have you?’ said Haines. ‘Come to revel in your victory?  You fucking traitor.  I wouldn’t waste my piss on you if you were on fire.’

              ‘That’s enough, Admiral Haines!’ snapped Morgan.

              ‘What, you’re going to try and pull rank on me now, Jeff?’ Haines replied.  ‘I don’t take orders from you anymore.  You gave away that right when sided with those alien motherfuckers and helped them in their mission to enslave the human race!’

              ‘I said that’s enough!’ Morgan shouted.  ‘Like it or not.  I’m the only hope you have right now of staying alive if you play your cards right.  If it wasn’t for me, they would have killed you by now, or worse.’

              ‘Gonna make me an offer and I can’t refuse, are you?  That’s an old one.’

              ‘Yes I am and I’d appreciate it if you’d listen to what I have to say.  Listen, Admiral.  George, I’m not the enemy, okay?  I’m not.  I want to help you.’

              ‘You are?  You‘ve got a funny way of demonstrating that, you know?  There I was being chased, captured, beaten and deprived of sleep after having my ship shot out from under me by your new alien friends, oh not mention all the men and women under my command that you killed.  I should have guessed, you had my best interests at heart.’

              ‘George, it may be difficult for you to understand at first, but what I did, I did out of my loyalty to humanity.  The Shapers are all powerful, their technology is without peer, their fleets and armies number in the billions.  If humanity is to survive, we must ally ourselves with them, not resist them!  Don’t you see?’

              ‘I do see, I see that you’d rather live on your knees than die on your feet, you fucking coward!’ snarled Haines.  ‘So how much popular support do you have for your choice of allies?  What do the people of this system think?  Do they welcome their new overlords with open arms?  Are they queuing up to have their brains devoured?’

              ‘There will be no more mass enslavement.  I have been given guarantees on that,’ Morgan replied, although Haines thought that he sounded a little unsure of himself.  ‘Only... only those that are deemed a risk will be taken.’

              Haines snorted with derision.  ‘Well that covers just about everyone, doesn’t it?’

              Morgan seemed to ignore the comment and continued.

              ‘The people... the people have not been told the whole truth yet, though it is becoming harder and harder to hide it from them.  Many of them support our cause:  a new start free from the corruption and nepotism of the Commonwealth, where the ordinary citizens’ voices are not drowned out by the clamour of big business.  Once I explain to them about our new allies, and their motives, they will understand, I’m sure.’

              ‘I wouldn’t be so sure of that, weren’t you telling them that it was
us
who were under the influence of the Shapers?’

              ‘People can be re-educated, in time.  Many have short memories and as long as their lives go by undisturbed they will care little of what goes on elsewhere.  Politicians have depended upon this for centuries.’

              ‘I think you gravely underestimate the man in the street,’ said Haines.  ‘They aren’t cattle to be herded, and when they find out what you have done, you’ll swing from the nearest lamp post.’

              ‘I tell you George, they won’t.  Trade with the other systems will resume in time, and things will begin to return to normal.  No, the people will understand when they understand the true motives of the Shapers.  Perhaps even other systems might rally to our cause.’

              ‘You’re so sure?  Is that why you had those presumably-still-human troops of yours wait outside?  And what
are
the Shapers’ motives, Admiral?’ said Haines.  He had been judging the distance between himself and Morgan ever since the man had sat down in front of him.  He was pretty sure that Morgan had seated himself much too close to him and the man who had placed the chair on the floor of the cell for him had misjudged the length of Haines’ chains.  He let Morgan talk whilst he pondered this.

              ‘Why, to unite the galaxy, of course.  No more war, no more interspecies strife and the gifts of limitless technology available to all.  Under the Shapers, there will be everlasting peace.’

              ‘And everlasting enslavement!’ Haines spat back. ‘What peace they offer will be a peace born of oppression, of totalitarian control, of total obedience to them!’

              ‘Now, now that’s not entirely true.  We will be free to run our own internal affairs...’ Morgan protested.

              ‘It’s a lie, you know that.  I can see it in your eyes, you don’t believe it yourself!’

              ‘Well it’s the only hope that we have!  You of all people should realise this!’

              ‘I’d rather go down fighting for what I believe in: preserving the freedom of humanity!  You’ve become a man afraid of his own shadow.  I can see it in your eyes.  You’ve made a deal with the devil, haven’t you?  Well, selling your soul comes with a few strings attached.’

              Yes, Morgan was seated much too close to him for his own good.  He was definitely within reach.

              ‘Please, George.  The only reason that you’re still alive is that I pleaded for your life.  Don’t disappoint me.  If I could only persuade you to listen....’

              ‘Or what?  You’ve won, Jeff.  You’ve beaten me.  Enjoy your victory before the lustre wears off.’