04 Dark Space (51 page)

“Strategian Rovik,” Caldin said.

“Captain.”

“You know him?” Atton asked.

“He was one of our uninvited guests aboard the
Intrepid
before we left the nebula.”

At that, Atton heard his father snort and say, “Showing up uninvited seems like a bad habit of yours, Mr. Rovik.”

The Avilonian sent Ethan a thin smile and then turned back to the captain. “Omnius is about to address his people. You are not yet a part of His people, but He has decided to address you separately. After all, you have a right to know the state of your new home.”

“Our new home?” Atton asked.

“You’re not going to kill us?” Alara put in.

“Kill you? Why would we do that?” Rovik asked, his head tilting to one side.

Ethan jerked a thumb over his shoulder to the line of soldiers watching them. “Where I come from we don’t greet people with armed soldiers.”

“Not everyone likes to be told they cannot leave
Domus Licus
.”

“We were warned,” Atton replied.

Rovik’s glowing eyes widened with surprise, and then inclined his head in what was surely an Avilonian gesture. “So you do know something about us. Good. That will make your transition to life here much smoother.”

“Why force us to stay if the Sythians know where you are now?” Caldin asked.

“Why try to leave if there is nothing for you out there?” Rovik replied.

“That’s not an answer.”

“But it is. Now, save the rest of your questions for the time being. You will soon have a chance to ask Omnius anything you like.”

“Anything?” Ethan asked.

“Yes, anything. Please turn to the Zenith. I would recommend that you bow.”

Atton’s eyes narrowed. “And if we don’t . . . ?”

“Nothing will happen to you, if that’s what you are wondering. Reverence and respect cannot be compelled. They are earned, and Omnius will earn yours very soon.”

“Right . . .” Ethan replied.

Atton saw Alara elbow him in the ribs, and then they all turned toward the Zenith Tower and Master Rovik moved to the edge of the rooftop to stand between them and the Zenith.

Atton gazed up at the bright light shining down from the top of the tower. That light was so bright it was hard to look at. A few moments passed, and then the light at the top of the tower swelled to many times its size, blinding them and forcing them to bow their heads to look away from it. The Avilonians behind them called out, “Omnius grando est! Omnius grando est!” and Atton turned to see the line of soldiers now standing with their hands raised to the sky. Upon the last utterance of whatever it was they were saying, they dropped to one knee and bowed their heads.

Then a voice like thunder began booming out from the tower—at least Atton thought that was where it came from. It seemed to resonate and echo all around them. He turned to look for the source of the echo, and his eyes found the next nearest monolith, the one which had lost the top of its spire to Gina’s crashing Nova. He was almost certain that tower was transmitting the same speech. In between him and that distant spire, he saw rooftop gardens like the one where they were standing, crowded with white-robed citizens.

Atton turned back to the fore and forced his eyes to open against the blinding brightness. The thunder rolled on, speaking in Avilonian, but just a moment later, a softer version of it began to rumble out in Imperial Versal. This voice didn’t come from all around them, but from Master Rovik. A miniature version of the light shining down from the Zenith shone from his chest.

“Welcome to Avilon!” it said. “I have seen your sacrifices during the recent battle. On behalf of my people, thank you for your contribution. In part thanks to your actions, you shall all be rewarded with a place in my kingdom.”

“What if we don’t want to be a part of your kingdom?” Captain Caldin asked, a note of challenge in her voice.

Atton felt a spike of fear for her, but to his surprise, Omnius did not sound angry when he replied. “I will get to that in a moment.”

“You blew my ship apart, killing everyone on board. What do you have to say for yourself?” she demanded.

“I have to say that death is not the end, Loba Margarath Caldin, but a new beginning.”

“How do you know my name? No one knows my full name.”

“I told you. I know many things. I also know that although you are an excellent leader and you truly care for those under your command, your present anger is not about the deaths of your crew, but about the death of one man in particular—Corpsman Markom Terl.”

“How the frek do you know that?” she spat.

“Let’s just assume for now that I know everything. As to your question, I could not allow your ship to crash into my temple without it killing many more people than were aboard the
Intrepid.

“Are there any more questions before I continue?”

“Sure, I’ve got a few,” Ethan said. “Why didn’t you help us? I spent ten years mourning for my family, thinking the Sythians killed them. Turns out they survived, but not everyone was that lucky. Why didn’t you stop them?”

“We could have stopped the original invasion.”

“So why didn’t you?” Alara put in.

“We never could have stopped them all. You surely know by now that the fleets your Imperium has faced thus far are but seven of many hundreds.”

“
Hundreds?
” Atton had kept quiet until now, listening patiently as everyone brought their charges against Omnius. “If that’s true, what are you going to do? They know where Avilon is!”

“Yes, that is unfortunate. We are going to send what few ships we have left to rescue your people in Dark Space and bring them here. Then I will activate the gravity fields around Avilon and we will not venture out again.”

“That will only buy you time,” Captain Caldin said.

“A lot of time. The diameter of each field is over two light years. It would take a minimum of 15 years to cross that at sub-luminal speeds. Given that much time, I am certain to come up with a plan that will suffice to wipe out every living Sythian in existence. Until then, you and all of humankind will be safe. Is that sufficient security for you?”

Atton nodded weakly, shocked, but no longer surprised to hear just how much Omnius seemed to know about everyone and everything. It was as if he’d been there all along, quietly observing. He was starting to wonder if Omnius really
was
a god.

“There is one other question to answer, but no one here has ventured to ask it yet.”

“Why did you shut down?” Atton whispered.

“Yes, that is the eminent question. It is the one I have spent the past five minutes answering for my people. They are understandably more curious than you, since they have never before witnessed something so terrible as my absence, but you who have not known me your entire lives are not so easily surprised.

“By now you all know what I am. You know that I am a god, created by man to rule and watch over them. My original purpose was to prevent crime, specifically high treason. I was created to anticipate another war before it began, and to stop it before it did. For many thousands of years since my birth, I have kept Avilon safe and hidden. There has not been another Great War between mortals and immortals, and there never will be again.

“Your very own Admiral Hoff Heston had a part of the solution all along. He was exiled for telling the royal council what he thought, and the truth is that he was right. People must be given the freedom to choose how they will live their lives if they are expected to live those lives in harmony. I have since found a way to give them that choice without jeopardizing the ideal of immortality.”

“So you’re saying we can live in Avilon without becoming immortals,” Atton said.

“If that is what you truly want, then yes.”

“That’s what the shield is for . . .” Atton replied, realization dawning. “It’s to separate mortals from immortals.”

“There are two shields. One, which you have seen, is the Celestial Wall. It separates Celestials from Ascendants. Far below that is the original shield, and it separates immortals from the Nulls in the Null Zone.”

“The what?” Ethan asked.

“You might know it better by another name—the
netherworld,
perhaps.”

“So you resurrect your people there after they die in order to punish them for things they did wrong in life?”

“No. That is an Etherian
interpretation of the
netherworld
.”

Ceyla, who had been quiet until now suddenly burst out. “You’re a fraud, Omnius!”

Atton felt a sharp spike of dread lance through his heart. “Ceyla!” he whispered, grabbing her arm tightly.

But she would not be quiet. “You’re not what you’re pretending to be,” she went on.

“Dear child, I am not pretending to be anything.”

“You’re pretending to be Etherus! You’re
not
him; the netherworld is
not
under your city, and Etheria sure as frek isn’t this!” she said, gesturing to the world around her.

“What makes you so sure?”

“Our religion predates you.”

“You don’t even know how old I am. Perhaps you should investigate the facts before you make rash assumptions.”

“Whose facts? Yours?” she sounded shrill. “The original Etherian codices were destroyed in the Great War.”

“I am not here to debate my deity with you, Ceyla Taratha Corbin, and I am truly sorry that your god isn’t real, but at least now you have one that is.”

Atton felt Ceyla start trembling, but she said nothing further, and he released her arm. Hoping to change the subject, he looked up and spoke to the light, “You still haven’t told us what happened to you.”

“That is because you keep interrupting me, but I understand. You are all very confused right now. I told you about the netherworld below the city. It encompasses the first fifty levels, as well as roughly another fifty under levels. I am saddened to say that many have chosen to walk away from the light and live in the shadows. They do not want me as their god, and they do not want to live forever in this universe. I am not a tyrant, and I love my children. My fondest wish is for them to be happy, even if that means they must stop being my children and some day die. Therefore, I have determined that all who reject me and choose not to become immortals must live below the lowest shield, which we call the
Styx
.”

“So if we decide to become immortals and accept you as our . . . god,” Atton began, “then we get to live up here?”

“No, only Celestials live above the Celestial Wall. You must prove to me you are worthy to live up here, but do not trouble yourselves—that is the reason we call ourselves the Ascendancy. Here, people are ever rising higher. If you choose life, you will have all of eternity to rise to whatever heights you are able.

“But I digress. There is still much for you all to learn, and little time for you to learn it. For now, all you need to know about my unexpected shutdown is that there was a rebellion. The Nulls managed to introduce a virus into several of my data centers. They were trying to corrupt the Lifelink database in order to trigger a mass resurrection, killing
everyone above the Styx. I was able to stop the virus and stop them from killing all of my children, but I had to shut down nearly all of my systems in order to isolate and remove the virus.”

“How would they be able to kill people just by corrupting your database?” Atton asked.

“Besides recording and mapping every part of a person’s brain for later transfer to another body, Lifelink implants can also trigger a premature death and resurrection. This is an insurance policy that I built into the system.”

“So you can kill anyone at any time—shut them down like they did to you.”

“No, not like they did to me. I shut myself down, and it was temporary. If I choose to kill someone, it is permanent. Do not worry, however, I have never misused this ability. My people put me in power because they trust me, and that trust has never been misplaced.”

“So what would cause you to kill someone?” Ethan asked.

“Treason.”

“Then why didn’t you kill the rebels?” Atton added.

“I did, but by the time I realized what they had done, it was too late.”

“Not so omniscient after all, hoi Omnius?” Ceyla said, chiming in once more.

“I purposefully turn a blind eye to the Nulls. It is what they wanted. It is why they live in the netherworld below the city. I was merely respecting their wishes. Now I see that I was wrong to do so. I will have to keep a closer eye on them in the future.

“I trust that I have answered all of your questions. There is one more thing I must tell you before I leave, but I would rather you see for yourselves. Master Galan Rovik will escort you.”

“What is it?” Atton asked.

“A surprise.”

With that, the blinding light disappeared, as did the thunderous voice. Atton blinked spots out of his eyes. He noticed that the blinding light from the Zenith had toned down to a much more tolerable brightness. Master Rovik now walked to one side of the rooftop, crossing the grassy clearing where they stood to an adjacent path.

“Come with me,” he beckoned to them from the path.

Atton and the others turned to follow him there. The soldiers joined them, escorting them on both sides. Once they reached the pathway, Master Rovik turned and started down the path. The soldiers subtly herded them to follow. Up ahead, at the end of the path and near the middle of the rooftop, lay a golden dome with a mirror-smooth finish, shining subtly with a reflection of the artificial light radiating down from the Zenith. As Atton watched, Master Rovik reached the dome and placed his hands against it. The dome rose up on four shining pillars of light.

Atton wondered about that dome, but he decided he’d find out what it was soon enough. Turning to Ceyla he said, “So, looks like your people were right.”

“My people?”

“Etherians.”

“As I told Omnius, he’s not Etherus, this isn’t Etheria, and his people aren’t the Immortals.”

Atton looked around at the lush, green beauty of the garden and from there up to the sparkling towers. Not far from them a waterfall cascaded from an adjacent cluster of towers, throwing rainbows into the night. “Why not? It looks like a paradise to me. Everyone here lives forever. There’s some kind of god in charge. . . .”