Chapter Ten
The planet Zyphon three years earlier
"Was your trip successful," asks the diminutive ruler.
"It was, my Lord Vashdon," replies the emisary with a respectful bow. "Valenski is behaving just as you surmised that he would."
"Excellent," replies a greatly satisfied Vashdon. "You may leave me now. You shall be contacted when I have further need of your services."
After a deep bow the hooded emissary turns -- the sound of his boots muffled by the keva boards which lay under foot.
The door silently opens as Vashdon's aid returns.
"What news, Ardoron?"
"I am afraid that the news which I bear is not good, my Lord," Ardoron cautiously says; for Vashdon is not one to take bad news well. "I have been informed that your plan of sending a large force through the rift to Earth shall be impossible. It appears, given the present stability of the rift that a large number of ships attempting to pass through it may well cause it to destabilize. And if that happens," Ardoron shrugs meekly, "a complete collapse may well ensue.
Vashdon allows his head to rest dejectedly against the back of his golden throne. "Effectively removing any possibility of my return," he says quietly." Momentary pause. "And did my scientists also evaluate my solution for entrance into the Plain?"
"They did, sir," replies Ardoron with a relieved bow. "After a studied comparison of the test data gathered during your emissaries' journey to planet called Earth and the computer generated intel was made," uncomfortable pause for Ardoron. "They arrived at the unfortunate conclusion that using your method would only allow a small, one man ship of the five meter class to enter the Plain."
"I had feared as much," quietly says Vashdon with a nod. "Without the Machines and their technology to open the Plain, I shall be forced to continually rely on our hull mounted, liquid energy capsules for Plain entrance and exit. Although primitive and dangerous," Vashdon says with a sigh, "they at least provide a solution to my problem. And what of the time frame involved in rift stabilization?"
"Their estimates for rift re-stabilization range from as little as two to three weeks to as much as six months before stability is re-acquired."
"That's quite the time span. Can they not be more precise?"
"Unfortunately they cannot, my Lord," replies Ardoron nervously.
"Very well," says Vashdon with the slightests of nods. "Leave me now," he says dejectedly.
"Yes, Lord Vashdon....." Ardoron bows and then hurries from Vashdon's chambers.
The small ruler quickly turns his attention to the ornate door at the far end of the great hall. "It is safe for you to enter now my friend."
The door at the opposite end of the chamber quietly opens.
"Do you fully understand your earlier instructions?"
"Yesssss. They were quite clear."
"Very well, my friend. Everything is prepared. You shall find your ship awaiting your arrival at my spaceport. It shall lift as soon as the rift is stable. Do not miss it."
"On board I shall be when it liftsssss."
The door at the far end of the room closes as silently as it had opened.
They made no sense whatsoever. There was no pattern; no one thing which related one murder to another.
They began in an obscure enough way really. An old derelict, most likely drunk as usual, was found by a couple of fishermen down by the docks in Warf City. His body, quite literally, ripped to shreds.
In his fifteen years as an investigator within Neon's PD, Detective Lonnie Bigfinger had seen his share of homicides; but never, and I mean never, had he seen anything like this. It was fortunate that he had not yet had his breakfast.
When he departed the crime scene hours later he found that knew no more than when he had first arrived. To be sure there would be extensive lab work, but as far as he could tell, all of the evidence that had been collected seemed to belong to the victim.
As for the perp; he or she must have been a ghost; for it seemed that absolutely no hair, blood or other trace evidence had been left behind. Det. Bigfinger slowly shakes his head, scratching it in a puzzled sort of way. This was going be a tough one alright.
The detective didn't know how right he was; for this one and all the others that were to follow, all five thousand of them, give or take, over the next three years were going to be tough ones. Men, women, children, even pets were targets; each and every one of them ripped apart for no apparent reason.
The police manage to keep a lid on what was happening; at least early on. This all abruptly changed after the secretary's body, or what was left of it, was found hanging from a horizontal flag pole on a downtown building.
After intense questioning by the local media the Chief of Police is at last forced to admit what has been happening. The city and the surrounding countryside barely manage to continue functioning as fear walks in lock step with everyone.
The violence escalates.
The local, state and federal authorities, many of them victims themselves, loose their credibility with the people. Word leaks that all of the officers which had been killed were found with their weapons fully discharged, extra clips at hand. Whatever had killed them had apparently been swift and strong; for no one had had the time needed to reload. Shortly thereafter, to the great relief of the terrified local residents, groups of five, heavily armed men begin patrolling the streets of the city.
As the third year of terror progresses, the roving, neighborhood patrols have remained untouched. One area of the city is pitted against another as bidding wars for the patrol's services brake out; for people are desperate for the security a patrol is able to bring to a block or a neighborhood. This facade of security was completely destroyed on a bitter cold, windswept, Thursday night.
People locked within their homes first hear the men in the patrols shouting directions to a target which they had seen.
Automatic weapons frantically discharge.
More wild shouting.
The rapid pop of discharging pistols.
Horrible, earsplitting screams; usually three in rapid succession.
The hollow sound of footsteps as men run for their lives.
Two distant screams a block or so away.
Silence -- And the silence is one of the most terrifying parts of it all; for other than the discharging weapons, men screaming and running, nothing else is heard. On this particular night seven of the cities roving patrols meet their fate. All thirty five men dead, their ammunition completely exhausted to no apparent effect.
The following day after the mayor's morning briefing session he all but begs the state government to increase the National Guard's presence within his city. The Governor declines stating that for the past two years there had been a significant presence within Neon City to no apparent effect.
Everything which the Guard had tried, had failed. And although none of their number had ever been touched, the residents of the city had continued to be killed in record numbers.
After the Thursday night massacre the people's fear boarders on hysteria. The city is practically shut down.
Folks; I dunno about you, but I think the people of Neon City are in deep doo doo.
Chapter Eleven
New Quantum, graduation day.
The day upon New Quantum dawns like any other day has for the past five years. But this day is a bit different for the one hundred graduating seniors of the Quantum Academy. The morning sky seems to be just a little brighter than usual; the morning's air just a little fresher. There had been numerous times, for some, too many to count, that a great number of the students in this graduating class had had grave doubts about surviving and reaching this day. And that disturbing feeling grew in direct proportion to the distance that you found yourself from the top of the class.
Zev Stal had the dubious distinction of having gotten a special appointment to the Academy due to another's illness. And during his five years as a student he had never managed to advance upwards nor gain the respect or friendship of any of the other men within his class. If any of the others had had to work with him it was only grudgingly that they would do so. Try as he might he could never overcome the stigma of the special appointment which he had received. It was not as if he had tried to sleaze his way through either. Quite the opposite really; for he had given his academics, training and attempts at friendship his best effort. It was just that for one reason or another nothing ever seemed to work out for him.
If not for the great patience and help of Lazarous himself, he would have never made it to this day. But with the Great Teacher's help, something that he would always appreciate but not quite understand why he had received it, he now found himself sitting upon the stage awaiting his name to be read.
By the time that his name was called, Zev could look out over the crowd and see that everyone had had just about enough; that they were glad that it was over. Everyone that is except for his family and the girl that he had come to love these past few years. Their smiles and the pride which they had in his accomplishment help to make the other people's disdain for him bearable.
But even with his families love, the comments, just loud enough for him to hear as he passed; hurt.
"A distant one hundred I heard."
"If he hadn't gotten that special appointment he'd never have been allowed in."
"It was only because of Lazarous' great help, something that my son did not receive, that he made it to this day. As far as I'm concerned he shouldn't have been allowed in."
"Finished so far back you have to wonder if he'll be much help to anyone."
"I don't see how he will be of much use except maybe around here."
The short walk to his family is anything but easy. The cold stares and acid-like comments cut like a knife. But his family was there; their smiles and hugs making everything that he had had to endure these past five years; and today, worth it.
"Zev we are so proud and happy," gushes his smiling mother.
"You've accomplished a great deal, son," chimes in his Dad with a pat on the back.
"Thanks," Zev says with a smile which disappears almost as fast as it had appeared.
"But you haven't heard what some of the other people are saying about me."
"It's not important what the others think, son," says his Dad with a wave of his powerful hand. "Don't let it get you down. You made it through. How you conduct yourself, how you carry out what you're assigned to do; now that's what's important. You've just left the starting line. Why don't we wait until the race is over and then see what others say about you. As far as your Mother and I are concerned, how much heart you show is far more important than what's on your grade sheet," says Gath Stal with a smiling nod.
"You're Father and I have watched you for a long time, Zev. We both believe, no, that's not correct; we both know that you have the heart and courage to face what you have to in the future."
Fighting the mist which clouds his eyes Zev slowly shakes his head."I have no words," he softly says as he hugs both of his parents.
"You don't have to say anything, son, just do your absolute best. I believe that that's what the job calls for."
"I will, Dad. I can promise you that," Zev says, the determination within his voice evident.
"Do you feel the same, Sel," Zev asks the young woman who stands quietly by his parents.
"I do, Zev. And remember, no matter where you go; my love goes with you."
"And my love will always remain here with you, Sel. Your beautiful face will be with me always."
booms the campus address system.
After a final hug and kiss Zev scrambles off to assemble with the rest of his class. The time which all of the graduates have heard about, and been dreading since day one, has finally arrived.
The implantation of the superconducting biological nano chips is now only minutes away. Zev can feel the sweat begin to trickle down his back. Despite the dread which is almost over powering, he has no choice but to go through the process; for without those chips, all of his work over the last five years will have been for nothing.
As each graduate steps forward to receive their individual box those which still wait feel the knot within their stomachs tighten; for they have heard the stories of what awaits them momentarily. As each is handed their container they can actually feel the vibrational energy emanating from the countless chips within.
The actual numbers contained within the box are irrelevant as far as each graduate is concerned. Their immediate worry is the intense pain which they will very shortly experience as the chips burrow their way into their bodies.
The miniscule powerhouses have been created by the Machines to fit each individual graduate's physiology; to allow that person to absorb the power of the Plain and fully realize the potential of their powers. But this knowledge is of little comfort at the present time; for all those who wait can only think of the pain which will soon follow.
With shaking hands each student takes the box given him and proceeds into the implantation building – quite the impressive title for a building which consists solely of one hundred, small, soundproof cubicles -- each small room designed for one purpose and one purpose only; to prevent those on the outside from hearing the screams of those on the inside.
At long last, far longer than the other "regular" graduates, Zev manages to muster up the courage which he needs. With shaking hands he gingerly opens the top of the container -- his eyes slowly traversing its confines.
He finds the interior of the box awash with the chips -- so many in fact that they appear as a rainbow of iridescent liquid of constantly shifting, swirling colors, drawing his eyes into their depth and beauty --- at least until they swarm out of the box and the pain and screaming begins.
Zev lies unmoving upon the floor of his cubicle -- the taste of blood strong upon his lips. Everything within the smallish room appears as blurred shapes. He relaxes in the hope that that might help -- it does.
Several minutes pass.
He slowly forces himself into a sitting position, gingerly propping himself up against a nearby wall. He slowly takes stock of his weak, blood covered body. The memory of the chip's assault coalesces within in mind. "They must have really done a number on me," he thinks.
"Relax Zev," comes a quiet voice. "Your wounds shall heal shortly. The pain which you are presently experiencing will subside within the hour."
Zev slowly turns his aching head toward the still locked door. "Who's there," he asks, the pain within his voice evident.
"Congratulations Zev Stal," gleefully announces the disembodied voice, "you may now officially add your name to the long list of Quantum Men that have preceded you."
"That's .... nice ..... but who is this, and where are you," he quietly asks.
"Who am I," asks the voice indignantly. "Why, I am to be your companion during your adventures, Zev Stal. I am your Quantum Intelligence who now resides within that noggin of yours; courtesy of the chips which have implanted themselves within your brain, of course. If you prefer you may call me QI for short. Through the power of the Plain I shall be your connection to the vast data banks and Neural Net which reside here upon New Quantum. I shall also be able to provide you with tactical information when you require it. And get this little diddy; no one, and I mean no one but you can hear me. Pretty cool, huh? Speech is unnecessary for my understanding but you may use it if it makes you feel more comfortable. Oh yes; and ah, how are you feeling," asks the QI almost as an afterthought.
"Better Quantum Intelligence. Hmm," muses Zev, "I think I do prefer QI; if you don't mind," Zev hastily adds.
"As I said, that is perfectly acceptable," replies the QI in his mechanical, business-like voice.
"It looks as if I've stopped bleeding."
"My scans confirm that your entry wounds have now closed and your bleeding has indeed ceased. May I suggest a quick shower?"
"I think that that would feel pretty good right about now."
Twenty minutes later Zev is finished, dressed and heading down the hall to rejoin the rest of the graduates.
"Well it's nice of you to finally join us, QM Stal," says the bull necked DI with a smirk.
"Last as usual, Stal," needles an upper classman.
"That's enough, Taven," snaps the DI with a scowl.
"Yes, sir."
"I'm sorry, Teacher Lazarous," says Zev apologetically.
"Tis all right, my young friend. All have received their stations save you."
Zev braces for the humiliation which he is certain shall follow.
"You have been posted to a smallish world on the far side of this galaxy known as Earth."
Zev flushes at the news, his embarrassment clearly apparent. Not one of the major worlds; but then considering his standing within his class he really had no right to expect one of those. He was at least hoping for one of the smaller, central worlds, maybe Resho Fawn or Ackvol; but Earth? His mind races as he tries to remember something, anything about that distant world. At last he is forced to admit that about the only thing which he knows about it is that it is a small, primitive, and insignificant planet barely, just barely on the far edge of this galaxy. Feeling a sinking sensation within his chest he tries hard, with little success, not to show his disappointment.
"Earth?" Hooting laughter. "Where's that," more laughter errupts as the rest of the class disappears around the building's corner.
In short order Zev finds himself alone with Teacher Lazarous.
"I sense disappointment, Zev."
Sigh. "I guess I really have no right to be disappointed, Teacher Lazarous. After all, even with your help I barely made it to graduation. I guess I deserve the place," Zev quietly/dejectedly says.
Lazarous nods. "That is accurate; your grades were not the best. And I do realize that the world called Earth does not sound very appealing as a first assignment. But trust me when I tell you, Zev, not everything is as it appears at first view. I can assure you that the Earth holds more importance than either you or your classmates realize."
"Then why send me," asks Zev with a shrug. "Why not send someone ahead of me in this class -- or someone that's been in the field for a while?"
"Everyone has their place, Zev. I urge you not to let what the others think bother you. That small world which everyone seems to believe is so unimportant has just entered a critical phase in its relationship to the rest of this galaxy.
It was during my talks with the Ancient One that he informed me that he has seen something within you that is different from all other Quantum Men. According to Him, your place is indeed upon the world known as Earth."
"If you say so," says Zev with a shrug, his voice betraying his skepticism. "If you both believe that that's where I'm needed, then of course I'll go, Teacher Lazarous. I'll try and ensure that all of my efforts live up to the traditions of the Academy and its graduates. And I'll try not to disappoint either you or the Ancient One, sir. Although I still don't unders ….. "
"I can ask no more from you, Zev. You must hurry now; for even as we speak your ship is prepared for its launch. All that you shall require has been placed on board."
"Yes, sir," replies Zev with a respectful bow of his head.
Zev gives the small, hooded figure a hug, easily lifting him from the ground. "Thank you for everything, Teacher Lazarous. I never would have made it without your help."
"Go now," urges Lazarous, "and say farewell to your family."
Even as Zev turns and sprints toward the space port and the adventures which await him, he finds that his sadness and worry are almost overwhelming.
Lazarous quietly watches as the young man disappears around the corner of the building.
"Has he departed, Lazarous?"
"He shall be departing shortly, Ancient One."
"That is well indeed; for the people who dwell within the population center known as Neon, are in great need of his help."
Save Zev's ship, the space port sits empty by the time that he and his family arrive. His eyes slowly sweep across the burned and pock marked landing field which stretches before him. He chuckles to himself as the irony of what he sees sinks into his mind. Partially shrouded in pre-launch vapor, some one hundred yards away, his small ship sits totally alone upon the burned and blasted plastiment covering of the launch field.
"That thing looks kind of flimsy, son," observes Gath Stal.
Shaken out of his thoughts Zev sadly turns his attention toward his family. "They really are, Dad," he nods. "But as far as we know that's the only kind of material that'll work in the Plain." A brief painful pause. "I don't want you three to worry; I promise that I'm going to be extra careful on the Earth. Besides, ships just like that one," Zev jabs his thumb over his shoulder, "have done pretty well through the years." He smiles sadly as he fights his tears.
"I suppose that it's time for you to leave, son," quietly announces Zev's tearful Mother.
"I suppose so," comes Zev's equally sad reply. The depressing realization that within minutes he'll be light years from those that he loves settles upon his heart. "I want you to know," Zev pauses as his emotions threaten to overwhelm him, "that all of you will be in my thoughts and prayers for as long as I am away from home."
In turn all three give Zev one final hug.
"I'll keep in touch as much as I can through my QI."
"May The Creator of all things be with you always, Zev."
"You too, Sel," Zev replies with a loving nod.
Taking a calming, deep breath Zev turns and walks toward his ship.
"Everything is stowed properly. Your ship awaits your instructions, QM Stal," says the businesslike maintenance tech.
"Thank you," Zev says in like fashion. Giving his family a final wave he disappears into his ship. The last remaining maintenance line worker moves away to the safety of a nearby hanger.
With a burst of fire Zev's ship slowly rises into the air to begin its trip northward toward the massive, Quantum Energy Collector/Transmitter. A last, fleeting glimpse of his parents and Sel disappear quickly into the distance as his ship picks up speed. Knowing that a wonderful adventure awaits him does little to dispel the great, overwhelming sadness which he feels within his heart.
Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
The small ship's alarm signaling the approach of the Energy Collector/Transmitter sounds. Zev marvels at the beauty of the stream of coherent, Red/Orange energy flowing upwards into the Plain. "Look at that energy;" he silently marvels, "how did the Machines ever harness such power?" He can only hope that the approaching energy opens the Plain and charges his onboard power cells as it should; for if it does not ... he quickly shifts his mind to other subjects; for he prefers not to dwell upon that possibility.
Zyphon, Vashdon's planetary headquarters.
"Have you received your confirmation from New Quantum, Ardoron?"
"Indeed I have, Lord Vashdon. Our agent reports that all has been accomplished. The ship shall be swept through the rift and destroyed along with everything on board."
"My congratulations to you and to your staff for the planning of this mission, Ardoron," says Vashdon, the enthusiasm within his voice unmistakable.
"Thank you, my Lord," says Ardoron with a respectful bow.
Uh oh. I dunno about you folks, but I for one don't like the sound of that meeting.
