“Hello, Pistol.”

  A flicker of yellow light traced a circle around the android’s irises as he identified the human and began the appropriate dialogue. “Hello, Portia. Good to see you again.”

  “Come in,” she said with a smile and ushered him through the doorway. She nodded to the far side of the house. “Hector’s in the backyard with Cash. Go on out.”

  “Thank you.”

  The lights were off in the rear courtyard. If it weren’t for Hector’s glowing energy disk, normal eyes would have had a difficult time seeing Hector and Cash in the dawn light. Pistol’s vision changed to an infrared setting based on the lack of available light. He stopped when he came within arm’s reach of the two men.

  Hector turned to him and said, “You can give your report in front of Cash. It’s okay.”

  “I could not hear specific conversations,” the android said, “because Julian was behind closed doors all day. But I was able to see who he met with.”

  “And?”

  “He met with Octo first thing in the morning. After that he met with General Suster, then General Psi-New-Gun, then General Capture, then with Winchester, then with Brigadier Ver-Non-Ven, and finally with General Utink.”

  Hector turned to Cash, but even before he could get a single word out, the other man said, “Now do you see, Hector? He’s trying to make sure he has the military’s support. He can’t lead the Round Table and appoint himself emperor if the other generals stand against him. Tell me you see that’s what’s happening.”

  Hector took a deep breath, then turned back to Pistol. “That’s all?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you, Pistol. Have a good night. Same mission tomorrow.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The android turned and left, no concern as to the implications of what he had said, only focused on completing the task Hector had given him.

  Cash didn’t share the same sentiment. On his way back toward the house, Pistol heard the representative say, “Don’t you see, Hector? We have to do something now, before it’s too late.”

  73

  After checking the controls to make sure she could fly the craft, Lancelot took J’s Type B Strain transport out of the Folliet-Bright spaceport and sent it on a course to the nearest portal. After appearing two sectors away, she raised the ship’s tinder walls and pulled the controls to the side, sending the craft into a semi-circle so it could fly through a portal adjacent to the one she had just appeared from. After a second jump, she appeared in the Thundorian sector.

  It had been a calculated decision on her part to use J’s own ship to get her where she needed to go next. There was a chance that Arc-Mi-Die had some kind of tracker on the vessel. The benefit to the warlord would be that he would know where his android was at all times. If he saw J’s vessel following the path Lancelot had it currently set to, it would be clear to Arc-Mi-Die that something was wrong. If a tracker was installed on the vessel, surely a self-destruct capability would be as well. As soon as the warlord figured out that J was no longer in possession of the ship, he would detonate it. Lancelot would find herself floating in space, debris all around her, without a ship to fly. Not only would her mission be a failure, her suit would eventually run out of oxygen and she would suffocate millions of miles from the next living thing.

  She knew though, that the downside to having a tracker—and a risk Arc-Mi-Die wouldn’t be willing to accept—was that any ping the ship sent back to his hiding spot could be intercepted. If that was done frequently enough, someone could trace the warlord back to his secret lair. That line of reasoning was why Lancelot felt confident that she wasn’t being tracked and that the transport she was flying wouldn’t blow up in the middle of space.

  At the Thundorian sector, she found the next portal she needed, lowered the ship’s tinder walls again, then disappeared into the ring of energy. When she reappeared and the tinder walls rose, she was looking out at the Cartha sector, the place she had called home for twenty years.

  She flew past the colonies at the edge of the Cartha sector, unaware that the Hannibal had been there and that no life existed within the containment fields any longer. The ship she piloted soared past planets and moons before getting to the edge of the Orleans asteroid field.

  There, she slowed the transport and sent out an open communication.

  “This is Lancelot. I’m alone and I come in peace. I request an audience with the Dauphin.”

  After a minute of silence, no response received, she repeated the call. In front of her were asteroids of every shape and size. She dared not enter the asteroid field without her old ship because only a craft installed with Carthagen technology would correctly read which rocks were holograms and which real ones were invisible. It wouldn’t take long for her to fall for the same trap that had destroyed some of the Round Table’s ships.

  “This is Lancelot. I’m alone and I come in peace. I need to speak to the Dauphin.”

  She was about to repeat the call again when her transport received a signal. There was no hologram to accompany the message, only a voice calling out from the speakers of the transport.

  “Lancelot, this is Swordnew. I’m approaching in a shuttle. Make sure your weapons systems are powered down and your shields are off. The Dauphin have granted you permission to enter Orleans but I’m under orders to destroy your ship if you break from the directions I give.”

  “Understood.” A moment later, she added, “And Swordnew?”

  “Yes?”

  “It’s great to hear your voice again.”

  74

  After gaining his composure, Durect-Duher began to come to terms with what had happened.

  As the farmer and his son walked the streets after the mech’s departure, one of his neighbors shouted from the second story window of his house.

  “They spared us!”

  The man, Durect-Duher knew, was the only other person on Durect-Duher’s street to have been stuck in the colony of 16-Tuero-6. He had spent his entire savings to have his wife and two children taken away on a frigate that evacuated before the Hannibal showed up.

  “Apparently so,” the farmer said, holding his son’s hand as they looked down the vacant and empty street. “Have you heard from anyone on any of the other colonies?”

  In the distance, the black gas that one of the mechs had released in 16-Tuero-3 was still swirling within its containment field. The fires that had raged inside another colony had burned themselves out.

  “Sure haven’t,” his neighbor said. “Pretty sure we were the only colony they spared on the entire planet.” Then, shaking his head, he smiled and added, “I can’t believe our dumb luck.”

  Having come face to face with one of the four mechs, Durect-Duher didn’t think luck had anything to do with it. “Do you happen to know if any of the other colonies removed their Round Table banners?”

  The other man cocked his head to the side. “Why would they have?”

  Durect-Duher gave a polite smile and kept walking with his son down the quiet street.

  75

  Swordnew’s starship appeared two minutes after signaling to Lancelot’s ship. Instead of having a Type III Burst shuttle like the one Lancelot had taken when she left the Carthagens, Swordnew arrived in an older Type II model. The ship had harder edges and no curved wings.

  His voice came across the speaker in her cockpit: “You know the protocol.”

  Without waiting for a response, he piloted his ship to turn and head back to the center of the asteroid field. She was to follow his exact course at all times. Flying anywhere else would likely result in a collision with a giant rock. Likewise, if she powered up her weapons systems, the Dauphin would activate a defensive measure and kill her.

  She watched as he made a wide arc around what seemed to be empty space and knew he was doing so because an asteroid was there, hidden from sight by the Carthagen technology. Moments later, he flew between the narrow gap created by two large rocks. Seeing paths that were much easier to navigate, she guessed that one or both of the giant asteroids was an advanced hologram. Everywhere the shuttle went, Lancelot guided the Type B Strain transport in an identical course.

  They landed on the same asteroid she had departed from, which was in contrast to how the Carthagens had operated while she had lived amongst them. Back then, any time the Carthagen’s location might have become known by visitors, they had relocated to another asteroid. Now, after Julian and the Round Table fleet had visited, they were still in the same spot. After finding out there were no other pockets of Carthagen civilization, only Swordnew and the three Dauphin, she realized they would likely never go to the trouble of moving to another asteroid again.

  Flying inside a cavernous tunnel, Swordnew landed his craft on a smooth, excavated patch of rock. Lancelot brought her ship down beside his.

  “How are the Dauphin?” she asked after they had both walked down the ramps of their vessels and were only feet apart.

  Swordnew didn’t answer. Instead, he motioned for her to proceed toward a hallway to her side, one that she knew would lead to the elders. He walked behind her as if she were a prisoner and he was her guard. They both knew, though, that the gesture was more for his pride and his sense of duty than a practical course of action. She had easily beaten him every time they had faced each other in competition, and she would easily defeat him again if he tried to attack her on their way to talk to the elders.

  “Had any more visitors after I left?”

  Again, Swordnew didn’t answer her question, refused to speak at all. They walked down one corridor, turned a corner, then went down another. The entire time, Lancelot listened for the sound of Swordnew withdrawing one of his weapons. If she heard anything suspicious at all, both of her Meursaults would be out and Swordnew would regret ever thinking he could get the better of her. He didn’t try anything, however.

  After turning another corner, she knew they were getting to the door that led to the Dauphin’s private chamber.

  “You will stand in the center of the room,” Swordnew said. “Do not try to go anywhere else unless permitted to do so by the Dauphin.”

  “I know, Swordnew. I was here for twenty years.”

  He didn’t reply to this either.

  The stone slab in front of them slid to the side, revealing the room she had visited so many times before. She strode to the middle of the chamber and turned to face the elders. Swordnew continued past her, to the back wall.

  An audible gasp escaped her mouth when she saw there were only two Dauphin instead of three. The remaining two elders could have ignored her surprise, could have acted as though everything were exactly as she had remembered.

  Instead, the Dauphin to the right said, “We have determined that only two should remain here.”

  The Dauphin to the left added, “FaithKnow has returned to be with the rest of our people.”

  Lancelot understood what they were saying and why they were saying it. After confessing to her that they were all that remained of the Carthagen civilization, this was their way of letting her know the third elder had passed away. Poor Swordnew, she realized, must still be unaware that he wasn’t protecting an entire race but only two pitiful people.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said.

  The two Dauphin nodded.

  “Why have you returned, Lancelot?”

  “I need your help.”

  Both of the elders shook their head with satisfaction in a way that Lancelot detested yet was forced to ignore.

  “What is it you need from us, Lancelot?”

  Her top and bottom right arms reached behind her. When she moved, she heard four weapons being withdrawn and turned to see Swordnew ignite all of his vibro swords.

  “You don’t want to do that,” she said, looking right at him.

  Instead of withdrawing her own weapons, she presented J’s head from the satchel that was slung over her shoulder. Swordnew’s helmet turned slightly to look past her, seeking guidance from the elders on what they wanted him to do.

  They weren’t still alive because they were foolish. Both of them told Swordnew his weapons would be unnecessary. Even so, Lancelot stared at Swordnew until he put his swords back in their sheathes. Only once they were away did she turn and face the Dauphin.

  “I need this android’s memory unlocked,” she said, showing them J’s head. “It will be encrypted and have security measures to erase all of its contents if tampered with.”

  Both elders gave a soft chuckle. The one to the left brought up a hand and swatted Lancelot’s concerns away with a Carthagen hiss of amusement.

  “We destroyed three of the Round Table’s flagships without firing a single shot. We slaughtered their soldiers in our tunnel without them realizing they were trapped. Do you think some simpleton’s security measure will stop us from decoding the android’s memory?”

  The other elder added, “That is, if we want to.”

  They stared at her and she stared back until finally the first Dauphin said, “If we do this for you, you will come back and act as our lead warrior again.”

  As much as she was flattered by the offer, she also felt bad for Swordnew, who was having his role offered to someone else while he could do nothing but stand in silence.

  “I will not,” she said.

  “Then why would we do this thing for you?”

  “Because I helped you for twenty years.”

  “You helped because you were one of us. It was your duty.”

  Not feeling the need to explain, the only word out of her mouth was, “No.”

  She stared at the Dauphin until they grew uncomfortable and had to look away and offer anxious hisses.

  One asked what the android’s memory had to do with Lancelot and why is was important.

  “Are you sure you want me to say?” she replied. Her lower left hand, blocked from Swordnew’s line of sight, motioned back toward the warrior standing behind her.

  The Dauphin understood that she was willing to answer their question but it could lead to them having their last remaining warrior become disillusioned much the same way Lancelot had. The chamber fell into silence. No one moved while the two Dauphin communicated in whatever silent fashion they were capable of.

  Finally, the Dauphin on the right said, “Swordnew, you are excused.”

  The Carthagen warrior remained where he was, shock rooting him to the floor.

  “You want to be left alone with Lancelot? After what he did? How can you trust him?” It was the first time, Lancelot was sure, that Swordnew ever questioned something the elders had said or done.

  With a simple hiss—the same kind that had kept Lancelot in line for so many years—the Dauphin managed to shame Swordnew into following their orders. The warrior walked to the chamber door and the stone slab once again slid away. Before he passed through the doorway, he looked back at Lancelot one last time. Even though Lancelot couldn’t see his face, she knew there must be hatred there.

  If only he understood, she thought.

  After he was gone and it was only the three of them again, Lancelot said, “Are you still sure you want to know?”

  The Dauphin nodded.

  With her two upper arms, she reached up to her helmet, unfastened the clips holding it to the rest of her armor, and took it off. Lancelot’s long blond hair fell down past her shoulders. Even in the dark light of the chamber, her eyes glistened blue. She was sure she had the biggest smile on her face that she had ever managed. Seeing something other than a Carthagen, both Dauphin stumbled backward. Both cried out in fright.

  “This is who I am,” she said. “This is why I’m here for this android’s memory. This is why I was never one of you, no matter how much I pretended.”

  Lancelot Unmasked, Molly Evans, watercolor and ink

  76

  Arc-Mi-Die considered himself to be many things. Diabolical. Ruthless. The most notorious warlord in the history of the galaxy. But what people didn’t appreciate, one of the things he was sure they would respect about him if they were able to keep an open mind, was his sense of adventure and his acceptance of the unknown.

  Case in point: when his new android assistant was activated and brought up to meet him for the first time, Arc-Mi-Die didn’t tell the unit which planet or colony he wanted destroyed next. Instead, he told the android—a v24 MNN make that he referred to simply as M—what the Excalibur Armada ships had been previously used for. He gave a list of the colonies and planets that he could remember being destroyed at the hands of his weapons. The entire time, he couldn’t help but allow both of his mouths to break into wide grins. He would leave it up to the android’s programming to decide which target should be selected next. There was a tremendous thrill that came with not being able to predict which site M would come up with.

  M looked almost identical to J, with the exception that his skin was an outdated version of synthetic material that looked more like rubber than the newer versions. Before allowing M into his private room, Arc-Mi-Die had demanded three different confirmations that the android had been loaded with all of the same security protocols as his predecessor. The last thing he needed was someone in his own crew becoming lazy and thinking one of the security features was a waste of time. Even worse, if someone stationed on his hidden base wanted to assassinate him and take his spot, sabotaging M’s programming, setting him to explode right in front of the warlord, would be a good way to do it.

  “How would you like me to proceed, my master?”

  Both of Arc-Mi-Die’s mouths curved, his razor sharp teeth on display. “I would like you to analyze the information I have given you and I would like you to pick the next target.”

  Both of his Woghort guards heard this and turned to see if Arc-Mi-Die was serious. When they saw he was, they snorted to each other and returned to facing the entryway door.