X-Calibur: The Trial (13 page)

Triltan composed herself and pointed her rifle first at Sol-Dan and then at Mir-Bir, communicating through the scanner which remained on the floor at her feet. “Don't you dare try anything like that again!” she hissed, the voice from the scanner sounding much more confident than she did. “Get back, over there, while I open the door.”

Mir-Bir did his best to comfort Sol-Dan, helping him to his feet and leading him in the direction Triltan had directed. It was difficult with their hands bound, but neither of them dared consider asking Triltan to remove their bonds. Meanwhile, Triltan managed to reroute the power and open the door to the security station, a loud hiss her reward.

The inside of the security station was in total darkness, the only light coming from the torch beneath Triltan's rifle. She swept it left and right, looking for signs of movement before taking her first tentative steps inside. Her path took her through a large arch, a scanning device she assumed to detect weapons or contraband, and then ended at a large console before deviating left and right. To the left her torch picked out a line of individual cells, the energy fields which sealed then no longer active. To her right were a series of rooms and another closed door.

Sol-Dan and Mir-Bir had remained outside, looking apprehensively through the door towards Triltan as she stepped around the large central console. Restoring the power was relatively simple, and within seconds the overhead lights sprang to life as the large display before her ran through its boot sequence.

“You two, in here,” Triltan ordered. Sol-Dan and Mir-Bir obeyed without question, Sol-Dan's face still oozing. They stopped on the opposite side of the security desk, looking so much smaller than they had done when Triltan first encountered them. They were beaten, broken, and their body language betrayed that fact.

Triltan hesitated, wondering what best to do with them. Just thinking about Sol-Dan charging towards her made her heart race and her muscles tense. It was luck, nothing more, that had saved her the last time. Even as broken as they were, if they saw another chance to overpower her they might just take it. Could she really concentrate properly on the interrogation equipment if she was constantly checking her on her prisoners?

The answer was right in front of her. Once the security console was up and running, she powered the energy field to one of the cells and marched her prisoners towards it. Neither of them objected, it was as though they had accepted their fate.

The hand scanner beside the cell refused to open for her, but her hacking software was already worming its way into the security system. A thought to her capsule lowered the energy field, and Sol-Dan and Mir-Bir stepped inside without resistance. Triltan felt a little uncomfortable, locking them away, but she thought it was for the best, for all of them.

She didn't want to think about it, but had her rifle been raised she could have quite easily fired on the charging Sol-Dan, killing him instead of only knocking him off his feet. She wasn't like Arthur and the others, she'd never killed anybody except a few of the mindless spider creatures deep beneath the surface of a frozen alien world. To imagine killing someone like her, an actual person capable of independent thought made her sick to her stomach.

Triltan returned to the security station, choosing not to look behind her as she did so. The scanner had already broken through the console's defences and changed the display to the Teleri language. Within minutes, Triltan was watching a recording of an interrogation.

The video showed one of the technicians attaching a series of pads to the suspects head. A second technician then worked at a console as the suspect writhed and screamed in pain, pleading his innocence and begging for mercy. A moment later, the display changed to show the data being removed from the suspect's memory, a continuous stream of disjointed images and sounds. Intermittently the technicians would comment or prompt the suspect with a question, causing the images to reflect an unspoken answer. Whatever the suspect had been accused of, the images had satisfied the technicians that he was guilty and at that point the stream ended.

There were several more files to examine but Triltan didn't think she could face it. The suspect had clearly been in a great deal of pain and distress and it had only lasted minutes. Arthur, Lance and Gwen had been inside the birthing pods for over sixteen hours. Had they been in similar pain the whole time? She wanted desperately to be able to speak to them, to let them know that Caran Doc was on his way and that everything was going to be alright. But did she know that for a fact? Was everything going to be alright?

With a new-found sense of urgency, Triltan detached the scanner from the security console and began searching for one of the interrogation rooms. She found one behind the second door she opened.

The room appeared unimposing at first glance. A single chair in the centre, straps attached to the arms and legs. Opposite the chair stood a raised semicircular console, its screen dark without power, and a collection of cables trailing behind it towards the chair. It was only when Triltan stepped inside the room that the lingering scents of fear and desperation invaded her nostrils, a bitter tang that hit the back of her throat. Not knowing if the odour was real or imaginary, Triltan did her best to dismiss it and tried to focus on the task at hand.

She connected her scanner to the console and powered it on. She analysed the hardware first, focussing on the pads that attached to the suspect's skull. There were a total of eight pads, though it appeared that not all of them needed to be used at once to extract memories. Humans, as she had discovered, only had two major hemispheres to their brains and so two pads were often sufficient. From the pads, a series of nanowires snaked through the skull and soft tissues into the brain itself, worming their way into various areas just like her own capsule had done when inserted all those years ago.

The nanowires fed raw data back to the console, where a combination of hardware and software translated it into images and sounds. Understanding exactly how that worked was going to take some time, and hopefully wouldn't be beyond her. She had to try though, her friends were counting on her.

Triltan was just beginning to analyse the code when a second, short high-pitched burst of sound startled her. It came and went as quickly as before, but she couldn't determine exactly where it came from. It wasn't an alarm or coming from the security system in front of her, and if she hadn't been so distressed by Sol-Dan's attack she would have thought about it sooner. Now that she did think about it, it seemed to have come from right next to her, and the only sounds that felt like that were ones relayed through her capsule.

Triltan quickly reviewed the sound and found that it had been sent directly from Arthur's capsule to hers. Upon analysing it, she discovered that it sounded so high pitched because it had been highly compressed, and slowing it down allowed her to listen to his message.

“Triltan, are you there?” Arthur's voice said into her ear. “Our capsules are working again so why can't you hear me? You have to get us out. Tell your father to do whatever it takes. The AI, Mor-Dred, it's insane. We're counting on you. Please hurry.”

They were alive! For the first time since stepping off the Vanguard, Triltan allowed herself to finally feel what she had been longing to feel.

Hope.

With a flurry of excitement, she responded to Arthur's message and redoubled her efforts to understand the system before her, finally allowing herself to imagine that it really was going to be alright.

*****

“You're not Joseph of Arimathea!” Arthur exclaimed.

The man leant forwards, his hand to the side of his mouth as whispered to Merlin, “Smarter than he looks, this one, though I suppose that's not saying much.”

“What is this trickery?” Merlin demanded. “We were to be treated fairly in our pursuit of the Grail?”

“And so you will be,” Joseph replied. “Is it because I'm a younger, better looking version or yourself, Merlin? I'd never have thought you so vain!”

“Enough of this nonsense,” Merlin continued. “Arthur, I'm sorry but this has been a complete waste of time.”

We have them
, the fragment hissed.
They have to play the game!

“Leave now,” Joseph announced, “and you will never see your friends again. I promise you, the Grail is hidden behind these walls and you are more than capable of finding it. I, I mean King Mor-Dred of course, is patiently awaiting your return.”

“Why make us travel all this way?” Arthur asked angrily. “If you wanted to test us you could have done it back at Camelot. Why all, this?”

“You're on a quest!” Joseph explained, his hands gesticulating his excitement. “There are rules, doctrines, ancient conventions. They all have to be followed! If you don't journey to find your prize, face trials and tribulations beyond measure, any victory you achieve will be hollow! You are on the grandest of quests, Arthur, and so you
must be tested!
”

As he finished speaking, Joseph's face became dark and serious, all gesticulations stopping instantly.
Make them suffer!
the fragment was shouting inside of him.
Make them hurt!

“So what now?” Arthur continued, his tone a little less angry and a lot more unsettled. “What trials are we to face?”

“The trials,” Joseph muttered to himself. “Oh, the trials! Just you wait and see! But first I must invite you into my home. There will be feasting, frivolity, such good, good times! And then, tomorrow, you'll most likely die. Aren't you excited?”

“No more, Mor-Dred,” Merlin complained. “Enough with the games. Just let us get on with the trials and return to our companions.”

“I am inviting you into my home,” Joseph said sternly, raising an eyebrow. “I'm doing my best to be a kind and gracious host. Do you want me to be
ungracious,
Merlin? I can be, if you wish?”

“No, it's okay,” Arthur said quickly, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. “Let's just do it your way. We'll do what you want as long as Gwen and Lance are safe.”

“I said alive,” Joseph reminded them with a chuckle. “Let's not get ahead of ourselves.”

Joseph turned and, with a mock bow and flamboyant wave of his arm, invited Arthur and Merlin inside. The house was like nothing Arthur had ever seen. The floor was made of white marble and there was wood panelling to the walls. Grand portraits hung on every wall depicting images of Mor-Dred in a variety of locales. The largest picture, framed in gold, showed him slaying Arthur on the Fields of Camlann.

The wide hallway leading from the front door ended in an enormous staircase which curved left and right as it rose. Instead of ascending though, Joseph led them around it and through another set of double doors behind. Through the door was a grand ballroom where long tables had been arranged, covered in all manner of delicacies. There were two suckling pigs, turning on their spit, surrounded by other meats, fish and vegetables. One table was dedicated to fruits, pastries and deserts, while another was positively overflowed with wines and mead.

“Who else are you expecting?” Arthur asked as he took it all in.

“No one,” Joseph replied with a smile. “Oh, don't worry, I don't expect you to eat
all
of it, I just didn't know what you'd both enjoy. Come on, come in and eat your fill!”

Joseph walked towards the nearest table and helped himself to a plate, piling it high with whatever took his fancy. Arthur and Merlin stayed back, waiting for the opportunity to speak to each other.

“He's insane,” Arthur whispered as soon as he felt it was safe. “I've messaged Triltan again, she needs to get us out of here.”

“Not long now,” Merlin replied. “We just need to play his game for a little while longer. Caran Doc must be close.”

“I hope so,” Arthur said. “You heard what he said, he expects the trials to kill us. What happens if we die in here? Is that it, or do our bodies keep living? Can we even die in the simulation or is it just another part of his twisted game?”

“I don't think we should be in a hurry to find out,” Merlin remarked. Ever since entering the house he had developed an overwhelming sense of dread, a terror deep in his chest that wanted desperately to surface. They were in danger, no doubt about it, but they'd been in danger before and he had never felt anything quite like it. Something was coming, that's was it, something terrible that he was powerless to stop.

“What are you two whispering about?” Joseph shouted, interrupting them. “I do hope you're not planning on double crossing me?”

The look of amusement on Joseph's face served only to ignite Arthur's anger once more. “Don't worry,” Arthur replied. “I'd rather look you in the eyes as I kill you than stab you in the back.”

“That's the spirit!” Joseph replied with a chuckle. “Now eat something before I change my mind.”

Arthur and Merlin followed Joseph's example, helping themselves to a plate before choosing a selection of food. Joseph then directed them to sit at the high table in a position of honour; the two central seats. Once seated, Joseph returned to stand in the centre of the ballroom, turning his attention back towards the high table.

“Arthur, Merlin,” Joseph began, looking down at his plate of food with confusion before throwing it casually over his shoulder. “Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin.