The Forsaken Empire (The Endervar War Book 2) (31 page)

Did you not think that your ˜liberation’ would have some consequence? she asked. You and your Alliance you defeated us. You liberated every planet and moon we ever conquered in this galaxy.

But in doing so, you killed a piece of mine, Farcia added. You killed the last of us.

What?

Yes. Your victory led to the death of my universe. But I assume it was necessary, wasn’t it?

Arendi couldn’t see it, but the woman was smiling in her own crude way. She mocked Arendi with the darkness in her stare.

And here you are, trying to save things again, Farcia wheezed.

The woman looked up to the ceiling. She sighed, exhausted by all this talk. It was unnatural for her to speak constantly like this. The gills in her cheek hissed with the strain.

Arendi came to her and conducted another scan. She wondered whether Farcia was toying with her or offering the truth.

If only you could see what’s in my mind, the woman said.

Arendi squinted at her and backed away. I’ve seen enough, she replied.

The remark caught Farcia by surprise. She watched as Arendi began to glow.

I know what you want, Arendi said.

With a brush of her hand, she unleashed a new wave of light. A hologram came from her wrist and solidified against the surrounding mist. Again, the secret research emerged. Farcia recognized the monolith of machinery floating above her. But then it
expanded, blossoming into its full form.   

The Gateway technology, Arendi said, pointing up. I wondered why this technology was abandoned all those years ago.

She walked around it as the research materialized in a virtual field of blue.

Now I know, she said. It isn’t a teleporter at all.

The hologram had suddenly become a simulation. The image zoomed out, predicting the theoretical effect. Arendi saw a spark in the center of the room. The incoming light then exploded, becoming another flash in the confines of the room.

This is no gateway, Arendi said. This could potentially destroy the universe.

Destruction was all around them. Both star and planet, and then even space and time, had fallen to its wrath. The virtual ash seeped into her sights. Farcia blinked and approached the image.

No, she said. It’s more.

The white-haired woman completely disagreed with Arendi. She saw past the destruction to the revival. This isn’t death, Farcia said. It’s the birth of a universe. My universe returned.

Chapter 31

G. Kozanis. It was short for Gizyhiac Vomanac Kozanis, which was simply a loose translation of an even longer, more sophisticated moniker. Few outside the Arcenians could even pronounce the original name properly. Nevertheless, the Destroyer was familiar with the man behind the different aliases. Once he had been nearly chosen to apprehend the Arcenian scientist and force his conversion.

This had all happened during the Destroyer’s days as an assassin for the Unity. Over fifty years ago, his masters had expressed great interest in the famed scientist widely known as G. Kozanis. The man was undeniably brilliant, and he possessed a penchant for achieving technological breakthroughs. No doubt he would have been a valuable asset to add to the greater collective. His talents and knowledge could ascend beyond the physical form, to work on new projects, new endeavors, all for the sake of the Unity.

But in the end, the Destroyer had done nothing to track down the reclusive man. The Unity had remained silent on the matter, and his masters had supposedly sought to deal with G. Kozanis personally.

Nothing else was known about the scientist’s ultimate demise. Whether it was a suicide or a botched conversion, the Destroyer couldn’t firmly say. But he was sure his masters were somehow involved. Now, years later, he had evidence to suggest why. One of the dead scientist’s final projects had been theoretically revived, along with its unintended purpose. The resulting technology was beyond brilliant. It was godlike.

Indeed, the Gateway project could open a doorway a doorway into a new reality. The effect, while inadvertent, was enough to harness quantum fluctuations in a vacuum to generate a new universe, if only briefly.

Essentially, G. Kozanis was playing with the fabric of time and space or in this case, virtual particles, to do the unthinkable. He had found a way to sustain the mysterious particles before they self-annihilated, giving them room, potentially, to form a new pocket of life.

The technology, however, was incomplete and practically harmless, at least to the citizens of this realm. Any universe generated from the technology wouldn’t live. Not unless a tremendous, almost impossible, amount of energy could be funneled into the fabricated vacuum of space. If so, the consequences would be drastic. It could potentially spark a fully formed new universe, at the cost of the old.

Wisely, however, the famed scientist had chosen to abandon the failed project. Each time, he used it, G. Kozanis was creating a new universe, only to let it flicker out and die. Knowing this, the man had perhaps sought to wipe out all knowledge of his work. There was, after all, only one remnant of it left. The Arcenian Empire had decided to store the leftover research inside two clandestine facilities at the home world and pretend it had never existed. The technology had not been forgotten, however. At least, not completely. Someone remembered it. Someone who was seeking to complete it.

All signs pointed to the Unity. Or whatever remained of that wretched oligarchy. The ultimate fate of the Destroyer’s former masters was just another mystery. For over twenty years, they had remained silent. Until now.

Magnus, the message said. So you seek to follow

The communication was encrypted, but it had all the markings of being from her. She had no official name, so the Destroyer had given her one.

Defector, he said, monitoring the transmission. He was on board the Adamant, continuing his patrol, when he had received the message. It was an invitation, of all things. The Destroyer was not amused. He was monitoring the situation below on the artificial habitat, while Endervar ships scattered throughout the system. The Adamant was attempting to stay a step ahead and avoid any unnecessary engagement. But that was all about to end.

Although the scans were still trying to confirm it, something new was arriving in the system. As he feared, the contacts were multiplying.

The Adamant moved to intercept, and the Destroyer accepted the invitation.

***

He came to the meeting point. It was an empty virtual room. The transmission had bridged the divide, forming a secure area built from data. The room itself was just an illusion. Sound, smells, and physical presence were all fabrications here. Even so, the Destroyer still sought to impose. His avatar a blond-haired human emerged on one end, deviating from the standard conventions. He was dressed in a beige suit, and his polished shoes touched the endless stretch of floor.

Hmph, he said. So we come back to this.

The surroundings were decidedly minimal. He saw nothing but smoke and shadow as he waited, tapping his feet over the platform.

Still, the Destroyer recognized his surroundings. He had frequented a barren place like this many times before, when he had responded to his mandated summons from the Unity. He looked at the abyss around him, remembering. They had once spied from the darkness the decrepit masters of control. They were his audience, always whispering and conspiring. He himself had formerly been among them, before he had been banished to become their slave. That was all in the past now. The Destroyer had rebelled and made the Unity suffer. The audience that once lurked on the horizon was supposedly gone.

He watched, hearing and seeing nothing.

Where are you? he asked. Or are you still afraid?

His taunt was answered with her appearance. She came in a rush of rumbling fog. The shadow was seemingly alive, churning throughout the virtual air. The semblance of a face and eyes took shape in the gloom. The smoke settled as she draped herself in a cape of fading darkness.

The Destroyer saw a sole finger graze the woman’s lips.

Magnus, she said with a smirk. So we meet again, after all these years.

She hovered before him, gowned in twilight. The blues, violets, and hints of red swelled within the frock of flowing fabric.

How I missed you, she added, drifting intimately closer.

The Destroyer was immune to the show of affection. The ends of her gown were nearly brushing against his body, and still he stood silent.

No greeting? she asked. Nothing at all? So dramatic.

She hovered around him, teasing him with another smile. The trail of her dress wrapped over his shoulders.

You’ve changed, haven’t you? the woman went on, whispering in his ear. Calmer, perhaps, but still deadly.

The Destroyer stepped away. The fabric fell from his shoulders to the barren floor.

I detest manipulation, he said, stone-faced.

Manipulation? No, never, she insisted. All I’ve ever done is tried to watch out for you.

The Destroyer dismissed the words with an apathetic look. He brushed off his shoulders and casually inspected his finger nails.

There’s no need for this, he said. I’m far too old for these games.

The twilight behind him began to dim. The gown receded and wilted into flecks of gray. The Destroyer stood, indifferent to the emotion.

Do you forget? she asked, alarmed. You and I were once close.

The shadow came to him again, despite his indifference. He felt a finger under his chin. It lifted his face so he was gazing into her eyes.

The Destroyer saw the spark amid the fog. The ghost within sought to reach out.

You are what you are because of me. I helped you ascend. To become the master of war, she said. But Magnus, now I need your help. Please, trust me. One last time.

The virtual room became tinged with sentiment. The colors in the woman’s fabric suddenly shifted from dusk to dawn. Then he heard her dulcet tone become desperate. A hand was caressing his left cheek.

The Destroyer rebuffed the woman. He could see past the false intimacy. It oozed betrayal. He stepped through the illusion, waving it off like a foul smell. The shadow collapsed into a plume of static, taking with it the gown of twilight. He let the figment die, knowing it was all just a ruse.

You deploy a hack, he said, bored and annoyed. A child’s game.

He had felt the invasive protocols attempt to latch on with each touch. Within the shadow was a virus, ready to penetrate and infect. In response, he had squeezed the apparition dry, killing it off. He clenched his right hand before dusting it off and wiping it clean with the other.

No more charades, he shouted, growing impatient. Show your true self. Or do you fear me still?

From then, any sign of the Defector disappeared. Her presence was replaced with the other shadow. It emerged bladed in metal.

The war machine rose from the floor, coated in thorns. His razorlike skin covered the body from head to toe. But other than that, the visitor was obscure and undefined. His entire surface was black, leaving only a gnarled silhouette. With another step, the machine met the blond-haired man in the middle of room. The cold steel seemed to twitch.

Ah, the Destroyer said. So you pull the strings now.

He looked up at his opponent and stared into the barbed mesh of the Enforcer’s face.

Where is she? he asked. Or can you not even answer that?’

The giant machine answered with a drone like bellow, devoid of emotion.

Dead, the Enforcer replied. She was assimilated and then eradicated. It is the fate that meets all who defy the Unity.

The Destroyer gave the smallest of nods. He was not surprised by the death of the Defector. It simply confirmed what he had long ago suspected.

Those who trust the Unity must always pay a price, he muttered. Even I am no exception.

Irrelevant, the Enforcer said. Soon you will die, deviant.

The Destroyer turned to the machine, hearing the bold threat. He was amused. A new challenger had entered the arena.

Impudent, he said, flashing his teeth. I like that. But I didn’t come here to speak to you, boy. Where are your masters? Where is the Unity?

You speak to it now, the Enforcer said.

The Destroyer stared in disbelief. He searched his surroundings but still found no audience or any whispers from the abyss. If the Unity was truly here, they would’ve already made their presence known. He scratched his chin, suspicious. Is this a joke? he asked.

He circled the machine, waiting for a response. The Enforcer said nothing and just twitched. The abrupt silence was enough of an answer.

Or perhaps they are already dead, the Destroyer concluded. You eradicated them, didn’t you? Any that defied you.

The Enforcer neither confirmed nor denied the claim. But it was true, the Unity was gone. The oligarchy had been completely purged by this machine the final enforcer.

The Destroyer studied his adversary. He wondered how this upstart had come to be. The Enforcer, however, maintained his reticence. Slowly, his visage began to sink into the floor. The transmission binding the room was gradually breaking apart. The static was creeping into the feed.

So, you are all that is left, the Destroyer remarked. A dog without its master.

No, the Enforcer replied. I have my own mission. A new mission.

The Destroyer knew what he was alluding to. The Gateway project, he said. You’ve found a way to perfect it, haven’t you? To sustain it. But do you understand what it will do?

The Enforcer was indifferent to the question, even as he sought to unleash madness. The shadow offered a heartless stare.

Yes. Soon you will die. All will die. This is our creed.

And what of Farcia? Will you let her die as well? he asked.

The Destroyer still held the woman captive. The Enforcer likely suspected this, but he no longer cared.

Irrelevant. We have moved beyond Farcia. Let her die.

The machine showed no attachment to the woman. His visage remained the same: stiff and lifeless.

The Destroyer placed one hand inside the other and cracked his knuckles. You play with fire, boy.