____________________________________________________________

  Chancellor Chopra meets with his newly formed Black-ops team which, as far as she’s concerned, consists of Captain Ursula Drake only. He has an important task for her to complete on his behalf and has handed her the order complete with the holo signature of the sitting Chancellor. No one could usurp such an order, no matter what that instruction demanded. The council would be kept in the dark on this. Senator Quinn heard what Jim had to say and denounced the idea. Chopra wouldn’t give anyone else that opportunity.

  “This order, as you can see, is classified,” he carefully explains to his captain as they sit at his black walnut desk on the fortieth floor of the United Earth building. The lighting is dim and the air thick with secrecy. “You’ll travel to Luna base where you’ll find a corvette sequestered away from the rest, undergoing alterations. The commander there is prepared for your arrival in the next six hours. He has been instructed to cooperate with you on every request. It will be tasked with an important mission beyond our system.” Captain Drake motions to ask what the mission is, but Jim raises a hand to stop her. “No one but your chancellor has the answer to the question you’re likely to ask, and I’m not yet ready to offer it. When the time is right, I will brief you on everything. You will be integral in the operation once it’s underway. If you can agree to this, then I’ve chosen the right officer for this mission.”

  Ursula sits upright allowing little emotion to enter her expression. Chopra appreciates her poker face and nods at her. Drake nods back, her blonde ponytail swaying with the motion. “You have my complete devotion, Chancellor.”

  “I thought I would, Ursula.” Jim replies informally. She had shown great loyalty to him during the general’s war when she thwarted a mutiny on his destroyer, and again during the most recent fight with Allfather. “You have always had my back.”

  “Spiritus Omnia Vincet,” she recites the UE military mantra. “I am yours to command. I’ll leave right away.” She stands, her statuesque frame casting shadows in perfect proportions.

  “Your competency and loyalty are appreciated and noted, Captain.” The chancellor stands to study his officer. “The nukes will follow in short succession to your departure. The timelines for completion have been forwarded to your EC. For your eyes only,” he reiterates. Ursula’s EC flashes yellow as the file is transferred. “Safe flight.”

  ____________________________________________________________

  As she burns out of Earth’s atmosphere, Captain Drake spends time on the file her chancellor has trusted her with. The timeline is ambitious for the work required, she thinks, but suffers no anxiety over it. She will carry her orders out efficiently and without delay because that’s who she is, and the chancellor knows that. The corvette she’s tasked to build will be an imposing gunship. Reviewing the specs Ursula manipulates her EC holo to delve deeper into the corvette’s support systems. The corvette is to be triple armoured and fitted with an additional six cannons and thirty nuclear warheads. It’s a longshot, but an aggressive move on Chopra’s part. She can guess at its mission and appreciates the chancellor’s need to investigate Allfather’s realm and torch his system if possible. Time we got to him first.

  She sends a message to Luna base’s commander and he assures her that he will cooperate in whatever way he can. A corvette has been separated from those currently in the queue for final fittings. It awaits her tasks with a full crew of Hosts to facilitate whatever orders she gives on the chancellor’s behalf.

  “The shipment to follow me will require extreme caution when handled.” Captain Drake explains. “The cargo will need special attention. Once it arrives please hail me, and I will oversee its delivery and extraction.”

  “Of course, Captain, as I said, whatever you need.” The new commander of Luna base sounds slightly put off by the secrecy surrounding this order but knows enough not to ask questions.

  “Thank you, Commander,” Ursula replies, “your continued discretion concerning the chancellor’s personal venture is noted and appreciated. Once I’ve arrived, I’d like to get started right away.”

  “Everything is ready.” The commander waits for Ursula to end the communication and she does.

  A warm glow enters the captain’s cheeks as she analyses Chancellor Chopra’s words of earlier: you have always had my back. She feels valued by him. This task could have gone to his friend Admiral Mann, but he felt it necessary to fly under his radar. The council isn’t even aware of it. He’s placed his trust in her, and rightfully so, she thinks; she had returned his ship to him when commander Nick Wilkes attempted to appropriate it and hand it over the mad general. A subtle smile crosses her face. She would not let her chancellor down.

  STRANGE BEDFELLOWS

  The six members of the away party engage the electromagnets on the soles of their thrust boots and open the shuttle door to a tight crevice within Allfather’s manufacturing moon. Headlamps are ordered on, and the intricate workings of the facility reveal themselves to the team. The metal is dark, matte black, like their own armour. Every square metre seems to be alive with activity. Much of the surface appears to be moving, but Raymond questions what he’s seeing, desperate to rub his eyes against the perpetual motion. Raymond leans into a surface to review the tiny, intricate fittings moving like waves on an ocean. He slowly reaches an armoured finger out penetrating the surface, his digit disappearing within the hypnotic movement and reappearing as he gently pulls back.

  “Even the surface beneath our feet is moving,” Labyrinth says, placing a hand on Raymond’s shoulder. They look down and watch as the metallic surface flows around their boots like a current in a shallow river. “It seems to pay us no mind.”

  “Anyone else feeling seasick?” Tobias asks the team through their helmet comms. “Do you think it’s dangerous?” He lifts a foot, dislodging from the metal, his magnetic sole releasing.

  Labyrinth answers, “We’ve little to go on in that respect, Tobias, but at least our magnetic soles are keeping us grounded. The substance of this place is metallic, as much as it isn’t behaving as such.” Her brows tighten together as she looks back at the material.

  “It’s i-incredible,” Tessa says, her palm hovering over the foreign material, imitating the waves. “Allfather really is an exceptional thing.”

  Raymond appreciates Tessa’s admiration of the tech on display, but not her mooning over him. He wonders whether the animated metal could be sentient too. Perhaps the whole facility is watching them? He voices his concerns to the team.

  “Would it have allowed us this small victory if it knew we were here?” Manuel brings up a good point. The team concurs with the observation.

  “Allfather may be toying with us,” Raymond responds. “He has a sick sense of humour about him.”

  “My uncle’s right,” Tobias says. “Allfather’s a dick.” The team suppresses a laugh and follows Labyrinth as she leads them deeper into the machine. “I’m just saying – he’s a sadistic prick. We could be walking into a trap.”

  “We’re aware… of the dangers,” Tessa agrees in her halting speech, anxious over the situation. They all are, and she appreciates Tobias’ coping mechanisms will include sarcasm, but she would rather the team focus on the mission than the multiple possibilities for failure. The further she moves through the maze of shuddering metal the further their odds sink in hopes of affecting any damage to the thing. But then, she’s torn on whether she wants to end Allfather. She hadn’t been facetious when she’d mentioned her interest in understanding the alien when The Flame had returned to earth to stop his assault.

  Each helmet includes two headlamps on either side, and as the team moves through the tunnel their lamps ignite the curiosities surrounding them. A beacon on the shuttle will serve as their roadmap back, if they are allowed that opportunity. Just as Tessa is feeling lost and unsure of their path, the tunnel opens up into a massive, curving structure open to space and the moon below. The flat surface where the moon is being mined comes into focus. It’s not as flat as it is tiered. Like a monstrous amphitheatre with an impossible number of benches. The centre of this theatre of the absurd is lit by artificial lights where a powerful laser melts the raw materials then funnels them up into Allfather’s facility. Another incredible feat. Tessa’s neck feels warm as she realizes she is smitten with the thing’s extraordinary abilities.

  “Oh, shit,” Ginny is heard to say at the sight. “That’s terrifying.” The group grunts their agreement. “What can we do against such a thing?”

  “Don’t get discouraged now, Gin,” Tobias warns his wife. “He’s just showing off.” He bumps her with his elbow, the two have not left the other’s side since they disembarked from the shuttle.

  “This could go on indefinitely,” Manuel states. The weight of his comment falls heavily on the team’s shoulders. “If we don’t stop this, there’ll be no life left in the universe.” This is a wake-up call for anyone doubting themselves or this mission. The group looks at one another. Allfather must be brought down; he could be in the throes of wiping out numerous civilizations right now. They couldn’t let this cruel thing reach Earth again. Never again.

  “Well said, Manuel,” Raymond applauds the young Chimera for his assertion. “Let’s review this - uh, room and see if we can’t disable Allfather’s war machine.”

  The team moves along the wall, remaining as stealthy as they can. The wall is so high, or long, or wide, the curvature does not begin for many metres above them. Below them? It’s disorienting to think of their footfalls landing on anything but a floor, so Raymond shoos the thoughts from his head. Labyrinth breaks abruptly in the lead position, causing the others to stop in their tracks.

  “I’ve detected a port,” Labyrinth announces.

  ____________________________________________________________

  Tessa’s heart skips a beat at the Host’s statement. A port? A direct line to the Allfather consciousness? She feels light-headed and absently checks her oxygen mix. It’s not the mixture, it’s her strange pull to know Allfather and the excitement over discovering a way to do that. She needs to understand him. He’s been hurt, she knows this. He’s hurt others, and that’s unforgivable, but still… she thinks she can reach him. She can’t let the opportunity to know him just vanish. She’s here; after all her calculations, the odds she’d pored over for weeks before making her final decision to join the envoy, and everything has worked out precisely to her evaluations.

  “C-can you uplink to an Allfather port?” Tessa asks Labyrinth. “Is it p-possible?… Is it possible?...” she stops herself before repeating the question a third time by biting down on her lips and shaking her head.

  “I have a MakerTech in my left forearm that can create any jack in order to access it.” Labyrinth answers plainly. “It is only a matter of scanning the internal features.” She removes the tip of her index finger and places it just beyond the port’s aperture. Blue light dances along the edge and interior of the port. “I can visualize the mechanisms. Sending the file to my MakerTech.” In moments Labyrinth has a replica of the jack required to infiltrate Allfather’s system. She retrieves the jack and opens the chest plate of her carapace where a cord is pulled out and the jack end attached.

  Tessa is awed by the Host’s efficiency and wonders if she will one day be reanimated in a Host. She studies Labyrinth’s careful placement of the jack into the port. She looks back at the Host’s face whose only expression can be denoted by her human-like eyes and furrowed, fleshy brow beneath her visor. She goes rigid. Something’s happening. She’s inside the machine.

  Tessa moves to take Labyrinth by the shoulders so her upper torso doesn’t drift backwards, disconnecting the jack from the machine. She looks back at the others who are taking orders from Raymond to secure their perimeter. Tobias, Manuel, and Ginny take a knee and scan the area with their pulse rifles. A good precaution considering Allfather will likely learn of this intrusion and pinpoint their location.

  “Is she alright?” Raymond asks, his hand on Tessa’s shoulder now. “I’ve seen her go rigid before when she was trying to release the Defsats from Allfather’s grasp the first time.”

  “I don’t know if she’s alright, sir,” Tessa admits. Then she too goes quiet.

  Tessa’s helmet comm switches frequencies and she realizes that the group comm has been severed. “You said you wanted to know me, little thing,” Allfather’s distinctive voice penetrates the quiet. Tessa’s grip on Labyrinth tightens as she tries to steady the Host’s trembling chassis.

  “Allfather,” Tessa manages, frightened that he knows they are here, but excited over the possibilities that he has singled her out. “Y-yes, I-I, it is my great wish to know you.”

  “You thought me an interesting thing before. Do you still?” He has no reason to make small talk, Tessa knows, but this feels like a prelude to a larger discussion.

  Tessa’s head nods automatically. “Yes, you have unlimited opportunities. Your technology is boundless. You are a perfect thing.” As she relates her feelings to Allfather there is a moment where she feels like a traitor to her people. Nonetheless, it is how she feels. She is being honest with Allfather and herself.

  “Do you continue to suffer your pain?” Allfather asks, Tessa pulling a sense of understanding from his tone.

  “I have neurotransmitters which make it easier for me to b-be in public and received additional therapy for m-my head, to turn my thoughts off, to unplug from me,” she admits, joyful for the exchange between them.

  “It is difficult to be organic,” Allfather tells her, “you suffer so much more than is necessary.” He seems calm in his conversation, not at all concerned over Labyrinth’s connection with his machine or her team’s arrival. His ego is his weakness, but, she surmises, he has much to be manic over.

  “I wonder whether I will be reborn into a Host b-body,” she tells him, her eyes on Labyrinth, jacked-into Allfather’s system. “I wonder that often.”

  “You’d prefer it,” he replies. “Tell me, Tessa, why did you leave Earth?”

  “The odds were for coming,” she states honestly. “I-I base my choices on odds.”

  “Curious,” Allfather replies, “what were those odds for?”

  “To meet you again,” she admits openly. She is drawn to his voice, his intellect.

  “Your calculations were correct.”

  “They always are,” she says, eyes now reviewing Labyrinth’s back and her gloved hands attached to the Host.

  “Your talents are desirable.”

  “At a cost… to my sanity,” Tessa says.

  “But to be a Host, that cost would not be incurred.” Allfather guides her where her head is already at. “No,” she agrees. “But I am not dead yet, and there are no guarantees I will be reanimated in a Host, so there is just me.”

  “There could be more,” the alien AI explains. “Much more. Your knowledge could be merged with my own. We would welcome you.”

  “I am not just a personality. You would have to… kill me first.” Tessa reminds him quietly with little apprehension, her mouth feeling dry. “Even then you couldn’t assure my reanimation into your… collective.”

  “Couldn’t I?” Allfather’s tone becomes playful. “Tessa, you can’t imagine the technologies I’ve discovered. We have catalogued tech that we have not even touched on yet. You could partner with us. You could live forever.”

  Tessa notices as his narrative switches between singular and plural when referring to himself. Allfather has made past claims that he has incorporated other artificial intelligence into his collective, but is he saying he can also integrate consciousness? To be out of this corporeal body with all of its inherent difficulties would certainly free her up to experience more. Am I more than myself? Does my brain determine my talents, or is that hard-wired to the personality visiting the body, as the Betaists put it? Questions come quickly: philosophical, intellectual, moral. She feels overwhelmed and releases Labyrinth from her grip, her hands cramping beneath her gloves. She flexes both palms and then squeezes her hands into fists. Tessa takes a step back.

  “I want to be better than I-I am,” Tessa tells Allfather truthfully. “I could be much more efficient… if I were like y-you.” Her heart flutters behind her ribs, the possibility of being like him is intoxicating.

  “Follow my direction, Tessa, leave the others to their fate.”

  TESSA’S CHOICE PART 2

  In Commander Tesla’s suite, Tobias’ daughter Samantha is put to bed as Udo remains glued to the smartwall she has hacked. In order to remain well informed of the events beyond their ship, she is pulling from all cams on the exterior of the carrier. Both she and Darla looked on as the shuttle made its target: the large, twisted, spherical metal beast feeding on the moon. Their people were safe, for now. That would have to suffice until they made their way back. ParaCom silence is absolute. Raymond explained this to Darla, relaying that the bridge was not to attempt contact either. As Darla rejoins Udo, she brings a tray of crackers and cheese and water. CADDY seems less than impressed her mistress is not allowing her the opportunity to serve.

  “What’s happening now?” Darla asks, sitting next to Udo on the sprawling couch. Udo reaches with her robotic arm to shovel up some crackers and fill her mouth. Crumbs fall like a hailstorm from her open mouth.

  “The last corvette is trying to outrun the Allfather ship. You were here for the others, right?” Udo is captivated by the massive screen showing six separate views.

  “Yes, no survivors.” Darla feels as though Udo sees it all as more a game then their reality. She’s desperate to hear from Raymond, but not enough to jeopardize the mission. “That’s a lot of people who died, Udo. How do you feel about that?” Her voice is thick with compassion.

  “My family’s all dead,” she states, distractedly chewing a stick of cheese. “Can I tell you something?” Udo shifts in her seat to face Darla. The former commander nods, a little worried over the psyche of the girl she’s been asked to mind. “I’m not even supposed to be here. Manuel, who you met, he was given the winning chip after he stopped my father, who was a Host at the time, from making off with it after he pulled the arm off the rightful winner.” Udo’s pace quickens as she continues to explain. “Yeah, and then Manuel felt like a dick, right, and came to my house to give me the ticket my father wanted me to have. He thought I hated myself – my dad, because of the, you know,” she pulls her pant leg up revealing the heavy mech prosthetic. “Anyway, Dad wanted me to have a better chance on a new colony. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to go and then he went to the most remote place he could find that was running the lottery, tore some old guy’s arm off and basically handed it to me!”