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A House United Page 18
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“You think you are beneath me?” she asked as he held out his outstretched—remaining—hand, gesturing for her to give him back his arm.
“No,” he chided after she gave him back his severed appendage, “but you do. So until I get this thing reattached, I’m safe—assuming I don’t do something aggro in the meantime, of course.” He inclined his chin toward the three meter tall, transparent cylindrical tube which pulsed with an inner, golden light, “That’s what we came for.”
She stepped forward, noting what looked like thousands of fine wires which were feeding up into a ‘yoke’ of sorts which contained the Elder module for which they had come. To her eye, however, this particular module looked absolutely nothing like the diagrams in the briefing. But the closer she looked, the more convinced she became that this was indeed an Elder module.
“It looks nothing like a sword,” she scoffed, looking up and down its curved, blunt shape which seemed to compare more to an unstrung bow than any kind of bladed weapon.
“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” he shrugged.
She glanced around the dark interior of the room, seeing row upon row of displays which endlessly streamed digital information. “Are all of the computers here for this?” she asked incredulously.
“Seems that way,” he nodded, gesturing to the yoke with all of the wires running into it, “those have enough computing capacity to run a small city. I can’t even imagine what kind of data they’re trying to drag out of this thing.”
“How do we extract it?” she asked, eager to quit this place as quickly as possible.
“Seems to me we just need to cut the power to that harness,” he gestured to the yoke around the Elder module before shrugging, “then it’s a simple smash-and-grab.”
It took them a few minutes to find the safety interlocks which, one by one, they activated. As they did so the pulsing, golden light emitting from the Elder module dimmed and pulsed in increasingly erratic fashion. Eventually, each of the displays surrounding the fluid-filled cylinder showed the same error message, and when she was convinced they were finished with that task she noticed that Largent appeared to be downloading something from a nearby console.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“Squeezing every last drop out of this place before it goes ‘crunch’,” he replied, his eyes never leaving the console where his wrist-link appeared to be connected.
“Stop—now,” she growled, leveling her pike toward him and lowering fractionally into a fighting crouch.
“You wouldn’t kill a one-armed man,” he demurred.
“I will not say it again,” she tightened the muscles in her legs—feeling her injured calf flare in pain as she did so.
He looked over at her with a curious expression which seemed to be equal parts amusement and concern, “You really would…fine, I’ll pull out.” He withdrew the wrist-link and deactivated it. “But it’s a shame we can’t pull more out of this place…a lot of effort went into the research being done here.”
She was uncertain if she actually believed that he had disconnected from the console, so just to be sure she stabbed the pike into that same console and sent a pulse of energy through the tip of her weapon. The console immediately deactivated, and with a self-satisfied nod she said, “Help me open that thing so we can get out of here.”
Before they set about that task, Lu Bu tilted her chin toward the entry to the room, “Who—or what—was that…thing?”
Largent’s demeanor darkened as he fixed her with a weighty gaze, “Until I met you and learned about your children,” he ground his teeth as he spoke, “he was the closest thing to a son that I ever thought I’d get. But he betrayed me—betrayed us,” he shook his head firmly. “Honestly…I wouldn’t have come here and done what I did if you hadn’t shown me your kids.”
Lu Bu could not imagine the horror of having to kill one of her own children, and it took her several moments to gather her wits after processing his bombshell of a revelation. Eventually, she surmised, “You came here together—three of you in all—to take the data you were downloading from the terminal…but he betrayed you, and you had to flee.”
Largent nodded, “But before I did I was able to plant a bug in the computer system—it was originally a backup for our evacuation, but I never told anyone else about it.” He shook his head grimly, “I’ve spent years thinking about whether or not I should come back here and do what we just did.”
“Do you regret it?”
“Honestly? Yeah,” he sighed. “But there’s nothing for it now. Let’s crack this case and evac before consigning this boat to the black.”
“Agreed.”
The trip to the surface was decidedly quicker than the descent had been, and thankfully the emergency escape vehicle was equipped with pressure equalization features and medicines which enabled them to exit the floating life pod as soon as it reached the gently-rolling waves.
Far beneath them, the facility had been scuttled by a series of explosions which overcame the base’s robust flotation systems. Lu Bu had watched as, one by one, the buoyancy ‘anchors’ on one side of the station—‘anchors’ which had helped suspend the facility at its previous depth—were destroyed by internal overloads, causing the facility to slowly list several degrees. As the escape vehicle shot to the surface, the release of the base’s stored gases rushing past the pod created major turbulence, but whatever damage it caused to their craft did nothing to slow their ascent to the surface.
The Mode appeared overhead shortly after they crested the rolling waves, and the stealthy craft lowered hoisting lines down to Largent and Lu Bu—who had strapped the precious, oddly-shaped artifact across her chest and kept one arm wrapped around it at all times.
A few minutes after it had lowered the twin lift lines, Largent and Lu Bu were safely aboard the stealthy craft as it tore through the planetoid’s atmosphere en route to the hyper limit.
Chapter XXII: Final Prep
“I still can’t believe the precision on display here,” McKnight said as she gazed across the perfectly spherical chamber. “And with over eight thousand medical-grade grav-plates built into it—with the attendant power supplies built nearby—the sheer amount of wealth in this chamber is mind-boggling.”
“You could probably have this setup or a whole Battle Group of warships,” Lieutenant Spalding agreed. “I guess that’s what it takes to kill a god.”
“You don’t actually believe that’s what we’re doing, do you?” she arched an eyebrow. “I would have thought you, of all the people in this crew—aside from Tremblay, perhaps—would rebel at the very notion of an omnipotent, omniscient force which controls every facet of creation.”
Tiberius sighed, but it seemed that he did so more out of exasperation than resignation. “Of course I don’t believe in some bearded guy hanging out behind distant black holes,” he explained, “but I understand that some people do believe in something like that—and I would think you, of all people in this crew, would understand the importance of belief and morale in maximizing unit cohesion.”
“Using an enemy’s weakness against him is a fundamental tenet of all conflict resolution—including war,” McKnight said dismissively. “If someone believes in something false, it’s my job to demonstrate the error of that belief to them.”
“See, that doesn’t track,” he said with a vigorous shake of his head, “at least not with what we’re doing here. If their belief was an erroneous one, how would we know it?”
“By disproving the existence of their god,” she replied promptly, but again her XO shook his head.
“No…you’re looking at it from the wrong perspective,” he insisted. “If they believe in their god, and if their belief increases their performance as a social group, is it really an erroneous belief or just a demonstrably flawed—and possibly false—one?”
“I don’t see the distinction. Wrong is wrong,” she said flatly.
“You’re missing my point,” he gest
ured to the chamber beyond, “if it was as simple as proving, using reason and evidence, that there are no gods striding the stars in order for religion to be brought down, religiosity wouldn’t have survived the first scientific golden age back on Old Earth. At some point, it’s less about the veracity of a given belief and more about that belief’s efficacy in marshaling human effort and attention.”
She considered his position—which was one she had mulled over at some length in private these past few months—but wasn’t ready to give up just yet. “So all that stuff about the Demon vs. the Saint is supposed to do what…’hack’ human psychology in order to improve the human condition?”
“I don’t think the specific doctrines or dogmas are all that important,” he said with a surprising degree of confidence. “I think what matters most is their real world impact…and it’s hard to argue with the Empire of Man’s position of prominence among human civilizations past and present.”
“So the ends justify the means?”
He let out another sigh, and this time it was one of resignation as he said, “We can’t let them…but sometimes they seem to. It’s the old war between empiricism and rationalism, best summed up by my old man like this: don’t let the beauty of your ideas—or the vulgarity of others’—blind you to their real world impact. Do what works, not what makes you feel good, and you’ll never stop winning.”
She paused for a moment, “That doesn’t sound like him.”
“Some of the wording might be mine,” Spalding admitted, “but the sentiment was his.”
“So…” she mused, “it’s not about what’s true—“
“It’s about what works,” he correctly finished. “And until it can be demonstrated to the Empire of Man that there isn’t an all-knowing god out there watching their backs, they’re probably going to continue believing in one for the simplest—and most valid—reason of all: believing in one works better than the alternatives.”
“So you think we shouldn’t be doing this?” she challenged, gesturing to the massive, spherical chamber.
“Oh no,” Spalding shook his head adamantly, “we have to do this—and Tremblay has to make sure the Empire knows we did it. Truth-seeking is about peeling back the layers of a thing and figuring out how it works. Monkeying around with things that work for reasons unknown is fine for starters—it’s usually the only way to make advances—but it’s essential that we dig down and find out how they work so we can continue refining our systems and understanding of everything around us. Otherwise—”
“—all we’re really doing is praying to the sky,” she finished, drawing an approving nod from her XO. “So their belief is a weakness simply because it’s still a belief,” she said after a pregnant pause, “but it’s also a source of great strength—in spite of its less-than-proven veracity—upon which their entire society depends, at least in some small part.”
“I’d say it’s more like a particularly vulnerable pillar of their society,” he agreed. “And after all the damage they’ve done to our homes, I think it’s time that pillar got taken out.”
“The latest census figures only show that about twenty percent of Imperial citizens genuinely consider MAN to be a god-like figure,” she mused, “with roughly twice that number actively denying that very possibility. How big of an impact can this have?” she tilted her chin toward the chamber.
“That twenty percent figure has doubled in the last fifty years,” Spalding said pointedly, “while the forty percent number is down from exactly half of all Imperials during the same period. There is an ongoing culture war within the Empire of Man, and we’ve got a chance to swing it—potentially moving things in our favor.”
“‘Potentially’?” McKnight repeated.
“Outcomes are hard to predict,” he sighed. “But in a fight you’ve got to take the best shot you can see.” He nodded toward the cavernous chamber, “This is our shot. Who knows how it will play out, but if it will get the Imps off our backs for a few years while things get sorted out back home then we have to try it.”
She was glad they had worked through the subject yet again. This mission was easily the most important thing that McKnight had ever been party to—and she knew it was unlikely she would ever do anything half as meaningful even if she did somehow manage to survive it.
“So I think we can agree that the easy part will be killing the ‘god’,” she said casually.
Spalding nodded, “The hard part will be getting away with it.”
“The vultures are already circling,” she said grimly, recalling her failed attempt to have a private meeting with Bethany during the past several days. “We can only hope the droids meet us at the rendezvous point on schedule with the Rainbow.”
“And that Tremblay hasn’t sniffed us out on that front,” Tiberius agreed. “Bethany wouldn’t do anything against us, and Fisher’s a good man to the core, but Tremblay…he’d cut his own hand off to further his goals.”
“He actually did that once,” McKnight remarked.
“I know,” Tiberius straightened his posture, “which is why I’m going to throw a little party when we finally leave him in our wake. You’re invited, of course,” he added with dark humor.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” McKnight smiled tightly, “now let’s run through the diagnostics again—this thing has to work perfectly for us to crack Archie’s shell open.”
“Fisher?” McKnight cocked her head as the big man entered her office. The diagnostic routine with Lieutenant Spalding had taken just over an hour, after which they had returned to the main facility. She had been sorting through some of Tremblay’s latest projections when the chime had sounded at her door presaging the big man’s entry to the room. “What can I do for you?”
“Just came to see if there was anything I could help with,” Fisher replied. “I’m going stir crazy around here and Chester’s driving me nuts with all his briefings.”
“Have you seen Bethany lately?” McKnight asked as Fisher sat down in the chair opposite hers, but the big guy shook his head.
“She hasn’t seen anyone but Chester for weeks—and he claims he’s under some sort of confidentiality arrangement not to discuss their interactions,” Fisher explained. “If you ask me, I’d guess she dropped the kids a bit earlier than we expected and wants to keep that particular development under wraps until the hearing next week.”
“That’s my guess, too,” McKnight agreed before changing subjects. “Chester told me yesterday that the Purity Council upheld your provisional status as Warden of House Raubach,” McKnight said as she reached for a nearby pitcher of water and began to pour a glass for each of them. “Not having to stand in front of them again must be a relief.”
“You’ve got that right,” Fisher breathed a sigh of relief as he accepted the glass of water. “I never really knew what I was agreeing to when I told Lynch I’d have his back if he ever went down. All of this,” he twirled his finger around to indicate the underground base, “is just a smidge outside my comfort zone.”
“You started to tell me once about how you and Lynch came to know each other, but you didn’t finish,” McKnight mused, drawing a mouthful of water from the glass before putting it down on the desk. “Care to fill in the ending?”
Fisher looked hesitant for a moment before shrugging, “There’s not much to tell. Rebels had taken over the base where I was stationed, I’d set off a demo charge trying to spike the mountain fort’s guns, and the detonator didn’t go off as planned so I took shrapnel to the knee.”
“I remember that much,” she urged when he faltered.
Something in the normally jovial man’s expression hardened, and for a long moment of silence McKnight thought he had opted not to finish the story. But after drawing a long, deep breath he said, “When the rescue team found me two days after I’d buried myself in the gun bank, and they told me we’d averted the crisis, the first thing I asked was about my family. Do you have children?” he asked pointedly.
McKnigh
t shook her head, “I’ve never had the time.”
Fisher chuckled, “Family isn’t something you get the time for—you make time for family, McKnight.”
“Fair enough,” she allowed, feeling herself color at the rebuke.
“Anyway…the team told me my wife and kids had been abducted by the rebels, but nobody knew where they were. The rebs seemed to have gone underground, which was unusual for them. They usually crowed about whatever hostages they took during their little insurrection,” he snorted derisively, “but for thirty hours after I'd been dug out, I couldn’t catch a wink of sleep. I was sure they’d been killed…or worse. And that’s when I got the call.”
“Lynch contacted you?”
“That he did,” Fish nodded, “said my family was already on a transport back to the capitol city. He said—and I’ll never forget this phrase for as long as I’ll live,” Fisher said heavily before impersonating Lynch’s peculiar speech patterns and tone, “‘You stood tall in there when most of us would have bailed, and that saved a lot of people from a lot of pain. The least I could do was make sure you knew just how appreciated your walkin’ tall was by some of us. If you’re ever interested in payin’ this forward, I’ll be around. If not, you hold your head high in any room you walk into. You’ve earned it.’ Eleven minutes later, a capitol city hospital reported that my family had been checked in by a man operating under an obvious alias. Twenty minutes after that, I was reunited with my family.”
“Didn’t you suspect that Lynch might have been involved in their abduction?”
“That was the first thought in my mind,” Fisher nodded. “But…well, let’s just say Lynch made a compelling case and I believed it—still do, as a matter of fact.”
“That had to be some kind of case,” McKnight quirked a grin, hoping to draw the rest of the story out of the affable Fisher.