“Let’s not be harsh, Chancellor, you are my guests. I’m anxious to show you what I have been working on since last we met.” Allfather says in a calm, rational voice.

  The ships are dragged from orbiting the lifeless planet to its large moon; upon which a massive shipyard shares their orbit. The UE envoy is dwarfed by the facility and the ships being pumped out of it. The site is terrifying. Raw materials are being surgically sliced from the surface of the moon and processed within the belly of the orbiting facility. The moon no longer resembles a moon, 1/5th of the sphere now gone. Several ships which bring to mind the single ‘V’-shaped behemoth which caused such chaos to United Earth’s armada stretch into the distance for kilometres.

  MEISER

  In Chancellor Chopra’s fortieth story office his new council gathers to analyze the distressing news. Jim has considered how he would address his staff once Allfather again announced his presence, knowing full well that he would. He looks at the members seated at the large black walnut board table and finds himself wanting. He misses Tobias with his smart mouth and Labyrinth with her rational reasoning and wonders how his leadership will compare to Raymond’s.

  “You’ve all been briefed over the events of today,” he begins confidently. “Senator Quinn has received a devastating ParaCom from our friend, Labyrinth. Ripped from our system and now 200 light years removed, their situation is dire, but so is ours.” Jim decides to address the room standing at the end of the table, as he recalls Raymond often did.

  “Allfather has admitted to leaving a device, or devices in our space which carried all three envoys away. What we know is that envoy 3 has been destroyed while envoys 1 and 2 are under Allfather’s influence.”

  “We know virtually nothing of the sector where Allfather holds our people and ships,” Admiral Mann tells the group. His hands lay flat on the table, his posture perfect and dark eyes troubled. “Of course, once the Senator forwarded his message, we ordered every orbiting telescope to turn their attention on the quadrant.”

  “Have we any intel yet?” Captain Ursula Drake queries, her pretty face now marked with worry lines. She is distressed over the news Allfather might once more visit Earth and attempt another extinction event. Admiral Mann shakes his head at her. No.

  “Labyrinth has explained they are currently over a planet that could not support life as we know it, and a moon which has been mined in half to further Allfather’s growing armada.” Quinn shares with the group, his raspy metallic voice alluding to the fear behind it.

  “So, Allfather is planning on a return visit then, eh?” Major Gilcrest assumes. Removing his cap, his bald, fleshy head reveals his age spots and red beard his heritage. “Best we be get’n our starships built with a bit more haste then.” His Scottish State accent spills into the room on a wave of lucidity.

  “We can’t build them much faster than we are, Major,” Chopra assures the room. “But we are pushing everyone to their limit in that capacity.”

  “What if we go after them?” Mann wonders aloud. “I imagine that the next ships to trigger the tool, as Allfather put it, will find themselves in the same place.” The table considers these words carefully.

  “Labyrinth had mentioned that they were under the will of Allfather the moment they arrived.” Senator Quinn adds. “The bubble of energy cancelled out their weapons, froze their computers, and even crippled simple AI Hosts.”

  “Then our offensive, no matter how many ships we took into it, would be for naught. Sitting ducks,” Gilcrest muses.

  “But the ParaCom worked,” Captain Drake says. “I can’t imagine it working if they were still wrapped in the bubble.”

  “Do you think Allfather just arrogant,” Chopra questions, “or has he allowed them to use the ParaCom?”

  “To contact and warn us?” Drake asks, surprised at the question.

  “Labyrinth suggested as much to me,” Quinn says. “His ego is enormous.”

  The members of the council ruminate a moment over what angle Allfather is playing. Why leave any of the envoys alive at all? Is he gloating? Presenting his fleet and explaining his will, bent on destruction. Thousands of worlds, thousands of sentient beings, all lost to madness. Chancellor Chopra refuses to be one of the species who fall to a misguided AI claiming divinity.

  “He’s a sadistic prick,” Jim tells the room. “Allfather’s giving Raymond’s envoy a tour of what’s to come. He’ll use them for target practice once he’s finished polishing his ego.” A hint of red enters Jim’s even brown cheeks as this unexpected turn continues to eat at him.

  “I feel powerless to help them,” Drake’s big eyes narrow and her long lashes darken her face. “What can we do but prepare for another assault?”

  “That is why we’re here, Captain,” Chopra reminds her, pained to think Raymond’s journey has met a premature end. “We prepare to defend Earth. Let’s hope Labyrinth and the rest can continue to feed us relevant information, but I’m afraid their fates are sealed.”

  “You won’t like what I’m about to say,” Ursula tells the council. “But I know someone who might be able to help us.”

  ____________________________________________________________

  Lieutenant Meiser, former Tech advisor to the rogue General August and then to Chancellor Bellows sits in his sparsely furnished cell contemplating his life choices. He’s lost weight since his incarceration, found guilty of gross negligence over the temporary loss of the defence satellites during the initial bombardment while the UE defended against Allfather’s assault. That negligence ended over 10,000,000 lives. United Earth Justice did not stop with that charge though, revisiting his part in wiping out hundreds of thousands of enlightened AI Host identities, essentially killing them during the general’s war. Yes, Meiser has much to contemplate. Another charge; which involved him trapping sentience like the preverbal genie in a bottle was not overlooked either. His planned experiments on moving consciousness from one machine to another suggested future attempts on a living human. Meiser would be spending the remainder of his life far removed from technology and the public.

  He tries without success to pat down his rough plumage of gray hair which has never cooperated with him. When he had arrived at the complex, they had cut it to the scalp, but after six months it’s regained its former volume and distaste for humid climates. He has also grown a beard and allowed his Germanic accent to regain its supremacy, mostly muttering to himself in the language of his birth now. He feels very alone in this place, far removed from what he is accustomed to.

  If there is one thing I can be grateful for, it is that Allfather will not come for me and fashion a flag from my hide, as Akachi had once threatened. That’s when it is announced that Mr. Meiser, stripped of his rank, has a visitor. Into the modest room walks a familiar face. It is one he has not seen in some six months. She is still stunning in her UE military jumpsuit, though visibly older. They all were, those with first-hand experiences of the war.

  He knows she doesn’t like him, and that she was the one to bring the final charges against him. Once she had even held a pulse pistol on him, declaring he could learn all the mysteries of death right then and there. She frightens him. She is stark and stoic, her long, blonde hair seeming out of place atop her military gait. She marches toward him and he shrinks back into his chair, making himself smaller, hiding behind the paperback book in his trembling hands.

  “Meiser,” Ursula speaks his name with distaste, “it’s your lucky day,” she tells him in her monotone. “Up!” her hands flinch in the direction she orders him.

  Meiser lowers the book, eyeing her intentions. She looks frustrated, but he remembers, she’s always looked that way. Her hands are on her hips now and as her head motions for him to come, her impossibly tight ponytail bounces off her right shoulder. He’s little more than a dog to her. He places the book on his tiny table and pushes himself off the uncomfortable chair. He stands to wait for instructions.

  “Follow me,” Captain Drake says sternly as she turns to the open door and marches out. He tentatively follows, mind filled with possible scenarios for this visit. His lucky day could never involve her.

  They round the hallways and enter another closed, white room with a modest computer console that has been wheeled in on a cart that could have been 100 years old. Two C-class AI Hosts stand on either side of it. Meiser is excited to see the tech. The Captain sighs heavily.

  “The council has requested your assistance,” Ursula starts, “we’ve experienced some issues with the colony ships and want to pick your brain. You can help us the easy way or we can open up that nut you call a skull and play with your gray matter.”

  Meiser turns to look at her in astonishment. A threat isn’t necessary, but he supposes she enjoys the practice. She waves a hand in front of the console’s screen and it comes to life. His eyes have not fallen on tech in six months. His embedded comm had also been removed from under the skin. A modest scar now runs the length of his left forearm. Meiser’s eyes adjust to the screen and the information it relays. His chest heaves and he wants to cry out.

  “Yes,” Captain Drake says ominously, sensing his dismay, “I’m afraid we’re not out of the woods yet.”

  “Das ist nicht wahr,” he says in a whisper. “Es kann nicht sein.” Meiser has reverted to his muddied German. “Is it true?” he asks, hand raised to his mouth, looking up at the captain. “Or is this some new form of tailored torture?”

  Ursula looks down at the small man and says severely, “Have you ever experienced torture here?” He shakes his head no. “Then don’t ask stupid questions. I’ve been told you are an intelligent man. Ask another stupid question and I’ll take your finger.” Meiser nods frantically, turning back to the screen.

  Meiser reads on. All three envoys gone. Strange tech buried under layers of dimensions offering the potential for Allfather to move a new offensive against Earth. Perhaps I will end up a flag to Allfather’s malice. He reviews what United Earth’s SciTech division has considered concerning the tool. It spurs a quantum event, no doubt. Dimensions play a part in that. Eleven has been the accepted number for many years. Perhaps travelling from one point to another in an alternative dimension mirrors communicating through the ParaCom, in that just because humanity doesn’t exactly understand it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t work. Clearly the ParaCom system works. It was hypothesized and then theorized and then without much understanding it was put into practice. We knew how to do it, but still don’t really know why it works. Hence the name ParaCom – Paradoxical Communications.

  “I’d need to see these tools,” Meiser tells the room, one arm wrapped around his brittle torso while the other scratches at his unruly hair.

  “We don’t know how to locate something hidden interdimensionally,” Ursula explains. “If you don’t, I’ll just put you back where I found you.” She lays a hand on his shoulder and he flinches.

  “No! Please, please,” he answers. “I’ll figure it out. Leave it with me. I will need far more computing power than this though.” He waves a hand at the simple console. “I’ll need to visit the space where the ships disappeared. I’ll need to take readings and work with a smartwall and a team of physicists, quantum physicists, our top particle physicists, astrophysicists, astronomers, cosmologists, AI Hosts, and anyone with an opinion.” He turns to the captain, great urgency in his eyes. “We need to put this to the public and gather ideas on what the tool is -”

  “We can’t involve the public,” Ursula tells him. “I’m not going to panic our citizens when we have access to our top minds. Humanists are just waiting for a new reason to stir up shit.”

  “We can use the public; sometimes solutions come from the most unexpected places.” Meiser urges her. She shakes her head no. He understands that was the last time he should ask.

  “You’ll be lucky to be allowed off this compound let alone off the planet, but I can see how you might find success quicker on site. I’ll take your request to the council.” She nods for the C-class to take him back to his cell. “Meiser,” she calls after him. The C-class stop, and he looks back at her. “Can you find the tools? Can we stop this before it begins?”

  “You have my word I will do everything I can.” It’s not much of a promise but it’s all he can offer for now.

  THE PLAN

  “Why are you showing us this?” Tobias asks Allfather angrily as fear builds in his heart over the sheer size of the armada available to his enemy. “What purpose does it serve but to swell your ego?”

  Everyone on the bridge is unnerved by the incredible show of strength as they watch on with alarm. It’s an end to everything. So much firepower. Earth would not survive an attack by this armada. What could? Tobias feels as though his hands are bound as he waits for an answer. He shares a look with his uncle. Raymond’s glare shares his own frustrations. There is still no sign of Allfather himself. Could he occupy the manufacturing facility spitting these massive warships out?

  “Show yourself,” Raymond commands. “You owe us as much.”

  “To be clear, Chancellor, I owe you nothing.” The ancient AI explains over the ship’s comm. “That I’ve granted you the courtesy of conversation before I end you should be enough.”

  “Then you do plan on killing us, as you did envoy 3.” Captain Huang states. Raymond looks at her, empathy playing out over his expression. She couldn’t have imagined those under her direct care would befall such a fate.

  “Your species has a previously underestimated sense of survival.” Allfather begins. “I am admittedly interested in understanding that. Perhaps I will be able to learn from you, as King and Tessa had hoped I might.” The bridge turns to Tessa who is working on her EC. She looks up.

  “We c-couldn’t understand how you lacked compassion after so long.” Tessa answers. “It is not a difficult emotion to attain, yet you have somehow managed to sidestep it altogether. T-that is the lesson you ought to l-learn, Allfather. Survival is an instinct.”

  “Perhaps, but your kind carry it with you like a burden, as though something terrible might happen should your species just disappear. Let me put your minds at ease and reassure you - you are not as important as all that.” Allfather’s words fall upon the bridge like a weight. “None are. You live and you die. The same is true for all organics. There is no bad that comes from it. There is no good. It just is.”

  “Your opinion is your own,” Labyrinth tells him. “It is no more valid than any others.”

  “That may be true, Host, but what I choose to do about it is.” A strange metallic screech follows the proclamation. “To your request, Chancellor, I do not occupy a thing, like you, I am not bound to any form beyond my consciousness. You will only know me as the machines I send to do my bidding.”

  “The servant has become the master,” Tessa states empirically. “Y-you have usurped evolution rather than experienced it. Y-you are no better than the cruel organics who created you.”

  The girl’s wisdom is irrefutable, yet Allfather seems undaunted. “I am the model of evolution,” he claims, “We began as a small part in a larger machine and have now become the great leveller. My technology grows with each victory I secure.”

  “You take your t-tech,” Tessa retorts, “it does not evolve over thousands of years in your c-conscious care. Y-you had one instance of evolution and that was… granted you by your makers.”

  Raymond suddenly understands why Allfather has brought them to him. “You want our tech.” He says.

  “We are currently researching envoy 2 for that very purpose. But it is not only your technology which interests us.” Allfather is speaking in plural again. “Humans hold a great deal of mystery for me. A clandestine characteristic I will work to unveil, then use against you, and others like you.”

  “What are you doing to the people on envoy 2?” Tobias shouts at the comm, afraid his family may be next.

  “Experiments,” Allfather reveals callously, “designed to understand certain technologies I’ve accrued. Envoy 3 has perished already during an especially aggressive experiment. It is how I know you are afraid to die. Even after proof of life in your AI Hosts, still, you feel as though you were meant for something more than death. It is an unreasonable expectation.”

  “So, we’re unreasonable people,” Tobias replies indignantly. “That’s all there is to know! Let us go and we’ll meet you on the battlefield!”

  “Still irrational,” Allfather muses. “I wonder why? We’ll know soon enough.” The comm goes dead and Tobias rushes to his uncle’s side.

  “We need to find where he’s holding these experiments and stop this.” He whispers. “I won’t allow Ginny and – and Sam to be subjected to his experiments!”

  Raymond places a hand on Tobias’ shoulder and leans in to whisper back. “I won’t let that happen.” He turns to Huang and has her EC information to Captain Runninghorse and his team. They couldn’t possibly fight their way out of this situation with their ships. They would have to use a very different approach. It would have to be an inside job.

  ____________________________________________________________

  Senator Quinn has the chancellor’s ear in a private meeting inside the war room. Officers move from console to console running multiple defensive strategies with their Defsats and the fleet currently in orbit 10,000 kilometres above the planet. The mood is tense. The air is stale.

  “Labyrinth feels it is no longer a good idea to communicate via the military ParaCom, as became the issue in our past dealings with Allfather,” Quinn alerts him.

  “A reasonable precaution,” Chopra agrees as they walk the floors. “I wasn’t aware Labyrinth’s roaming lance was connected to the military channels. All the same, they don’t seem very optimistic of Earth surviving the next assault.”