X-Calibur: The Trial (19 page)

“Exactly,” Mor-Dred remarked. “You are a petty, insignificant creature whose entire reason for existence is my entertainment. Isn't that right?”

“Yes, master,” Ari-Dun continued, bowing as low as his twisted back would allow.

Show him!
the fragment cried.

“And in return for your loyalty,” Mor-Dred continued, “I shall grant you five minutes free from pain. What do you say?”

Ari-Dun looked up in confusion. He had never been rewarded before, only punished, regardless of what he had done for his King. “Thank you?” he said.

“That's right,” Mor-Dred told him. “And be sure to make the most of it. Once your pain returns, it will be five times worse that it was before. Now run along.”

The fragment laughed hysterically while Ari-Dun hobbled quickly from the throne room, Mor-Dred waving dismissively as he left.

*****

The following morning, shortly before dawn, Arthur and Merlin made their way through the dark, empty streets of Camelot. They saw no one in their travels, neither Mor-Dred's soldiers nor the people of Camelot rallying to join them.

“You're sure he snuck out last night?” Arthur asked.

“A little after midnight,” Merlin reassured him. “He returned an hour or so later. Are you sure Mor-Dred will leave the caste to face you?”

“What, the chance to face King Arthur on the Fields of Camlann?” Arthur said with a smile. “Even though he knows the truth, he won't be able to help himself.”

The truth. Those two words still struck Merlin like a blow to the chest. Once he had accepted the truth of what he was so many memories had come rushing back. He recalled his creators, Milford Sanders and Sebastian Caruthers, and their families who had joined them during their final days. How was it possible he had forgotten those who meant so much to him? How was that fair to those lost?

Merlin knew the answer, knew it the moment his reality had been shown to him. If Mor-Dred had hoped exposing Merlin to the truth would shatter his resolve he had failed. If anything, Merlin felt as though he was looking at himself with clear eyes for the very first time. The Merlin persona was still there, its thoughts, memories and beliefs, but the AI who had chosen to remain as Merlin was so much more. He could access all of his programming, all of his data, and
choose
what aspects of himself he wished to embrace.

He was no longer slave to a constructed persona.

He was free.

“We're here,” Arthur said quietly, interrupting Merlin's thoughts. “The gates, they're open.”

“Where are the guards?” Merlin asked, looking around.

The last time they had travelled that way they had been escorted by Mor-Dred's guards, forcibly marched through the streets of Camelot. The large wooden gates had been closed and barred, guarded by yet more soldiers to deny access to the Fields of Camlann beyond.

“I think he left them open for us,” Arthur said.

“More of his games,” Merlin said bitterly.

But this time, we'll cheat
, Arthur thought to himself.

They stepped through the open gates just as the sun began to edge over the horizon, casting an orange glare across the fields themselves. Merlin looked out, across the fields to the countryside beyond, realising that he no longer felt the anger and shame he had experienced when he last stood in that spot. That had been a feature of the Merlin persona he longer needed.

The guilt over Arthur's death and Merlin's failure were just pieces of the construct, built to reinforce the identity that was nothing but an amalgam of ancient myths and legends. Looking at it clearly for the very first time, he was able to see that there had probably never been a real Arthur, or at least not one joined by Merlin at the city of Camelot.

“Arthur,” Merlin said as they turned back towards the open gates. “Before, well, before we do this, I need to apologise, one more time.”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Arthur said, placing a hand on the older man's arm. “I'm sorry, for not telling you sooner. We should never have kept it from you.”

“I understand,” Merlin said, smiling. “You were right to do as you did, no one could have foreseen the effect it would have. I could have snapped, hurt you, worse.”

“You could never,” Arthur replied. “You're a good man, Merlin, whatever your programming.”

“I was created as a weapon of war,” Merlin reminded him.

“But you're so much more than that,” Arthur continued. “Look at what you've accomplished, what you've helped build back on Earth. Look at the alliances we've made, the friendships you've earned. I doubt the real Arthur and Merlin could have done any more.”

“Thank you, for your faith in me,” Merlin said. “It means more than I could ever say.”

“You've earned it,” Arthur replied. “Now let's hope we're not alone in all this.”

They stood and waited, watching the open gateway eagerly. After several minutes, a single Mori appeared and stood beside the gate, watching them with suspicion. After a moment he turned and left, leaving them alone once more.

No one else appeared for almost thirty minuets, when a small column of soldiers appeared at the gate, four of them carrying a platform upon their shoulders. Mor-Dred sat atop the platform upon a replica of his throne, looking down at them as he approached. Once through the gate, he leapt nimbly from the platform and walked towards them.

“Arthur, Merlin,” he said, his arms wide as if to embrace them. “I thought it better to face you here, much easier than engaging your formidable army within the streets of the city. Where are they, by the way? Are they late?”

“It's just us,” Arthur said defiantly, looking into Mor-Dred's eerily blue eyes.

“The two of you against my army?” Mor-Dred replied thoughtfully. “I admire your resolve, but I don't think much to your chances. Are you sure you don't want to reconsider?”

“Better to die fighting than to live one more day as your slave,” Arthur replied.

“Oh no,” Mor-Dred said mockingly. “You won't die here, at least not today. Do you honestly think I would let you go that easily?”

“You're insane,” Arthur remarked. “Trying to work out what you'll do is pointless.”

Mor-Dred laughed deeply, turning back to his soldiers. “You,” he said, pointing at the closest. “Come teach this boy a lesson.”

The guard stepped forwards, drawing his sword from the scabbard at his waist. He was wearing the same black armour of all of Mor-Dred's guards and the same neutral expression upon his face. Arthur moved a short distance away from Merlin, rolling his shoulders as he readied his body to fight.

“Maybe I could get a sword,” Arthur called to Mor-Dred. “Make this a little fairer?”

“If you like,” Mor-Dred said with a smile, taking a sword from another guard and tossing it towards Arthur.

Now, Triltan
, Arthur said through his capsule as he picked up the sword and prepared to fight.

*****

Triltan and Gwen hid behind one of the buildings, looking out towards the large door to Mor-Dred's castle. Four guards stood outside, as rigid and unmoving as statues. Triltan still felt bad about leaving Lance alone in Ari-Dun's home, but as Gwen and Arthur had reminded her, this was the only chance for any of them, Lance included.

Now, Triltan
, Arthur's voice said, sounding as though he was right beside her and making her jump.

“You okay?” Gwen asked, her body tensing at the sudden movement.

“It's started,” Triltan replied.

Triltan accessed her capsule and looked out at the closest of Mor-Dred's guards, concentrating until she could see the lines and lines of code which determined his form. She could see that the three other guards were identical, both in appearance and construction, and she was able to trace the code back through the mainframe to the core architecture.

Triltan had suggested deleting the code, making all of Mor-Dred's guards disappear in one go, but Arthur and Gwen had talked her out of it. They reminded her that they needed to keep Mor-Dred away from the hub for as long as possible, giving Arthur and Merlin the chance to keep Mor-Dred distracted without tipping him off to their plans.

Instead, Triltan accessed the portion of their code which determined their response to damage and altered it. No longer would they be invulnerable to the physical effects of the simulation; Arthur and Gwen would be able to fight them head on.

“Now,” Triltan said to Gwen, watching as Gwen slipped out from behind the building and approached the first guard.

While Gwen dispatched the four guards watching the entrance, Triltan performed her final piece of digital manipulation before following her into the castle.

*****

Arthur raised his sword as the guard swung his in an overhead arch, the force of the blow knocking Arthur to his knees. Arthur rolled backwards and stood in a crouch, sword held loosely as the guard advanced. He parried another blow and used the momentum to rise in a sweeping arc, bringing his sword down hard upon the back of the guard's armour. It bounced off harmlessly, the vibrations running up the sword and into Arthur's arms.

Come on, Triltan
, Arthur thought, leaping backwards as the guard's sword swept past his midsection.

“Having fun yet?” Mor-Dred called out to him, applauding as the  guard missed Arthur's midsection by mere centimetres.

“No, not really,” Arthur muttered as he parried another unnaturally strong blow which almost took him off his feet. The guard was advancing and Arthur had to take another step back as he deflected each of his swings. It was only a matter of time before one of them landed.

Done
, Triltan's voice said via his capsule.
Merlin too. Good luck.

You too
, Arthur replied, the look of determination on his face turning into a grin.

“Merlin!” Arthur yelled as he stood his ground and deflected another swing of the guard's sword. “You've got your magic back.”

“Arthur?” Merlin replied with confusion. “I know the truth?”

“Trust me,” Arthur continued, kicking out at the guard and knocking him off his feet. “Enjoy yourself!”

Merlin looked down at his hands as Arthur drove his sword into the chest of the fallen guard, killing him instantly. They still looked like his hands right up until the point where they didn't. He could see the aged flesh, the reddened swollen joints and the cracked pitted nails, but he could see something else too. They were code, digital, just like the rest of him, and as he looked up he could that the rest of the world was code too.

“There is no spoon,” Merlin mumbled to himself as fire began to dance between his fingers. Arthur turned to look at him, fear in his eyes.

This had always been the riskiest part of the plan, connecting Merlin to the simulation itself. They had no idea how he'd react, whether he would be able to control the simulation as Mor-Dred did or crack under the weight of data that would bombard his system. To hear him mumbling about spoons didn't help Arthur's growing sense of unease.

“There is no spoon!” Merlin said again, yelling as jets of white-hot flame burst forth from his hands and enveloped the closest group of guards, incinerating them in an instant.

Chapter 12

Administrative Access

Earth Year 6239

Mor-Dred turned, watching as his guards were incinerated by flame pouring from Merlin's outstretched hands. “What have you done?” Mor-Dred screamed, raising a hand dismissively as the flames approached him. The white hot jets seemed to hit an invisible wall, curling around it and passing by harmlessly.

“What's the matter, Mor-Dred,” Merlin replied. “Scared of a fair fight?”

“This changes nothing!” Mor-Dred cried, raising his hand and forming a solid wall of rock and earth between himself and Merlin. “This is my world. I built it and I can break it down just as easily!”

Show them!
the fragment hissed in his ear.
Tear them apart!

Mor-Dred rose effortlessly into the air, spreading his arms wide as he ascended. The rock and earth around Merlin rumbled and cracked, erupting out of the ground and circling him. Merlin pushed forwards, fingers spread wide as he turned the rock to air and blew it in a gust at Mor-Dred's rising form.

Mor-Dred fell backwards, spinning twice in mid-air before righting himself and turning his attention towards the battle below him. Arthur had dispatched four of his guards and was engaged in a fight with two more, parrying blows and dodging swings with ease. Mor-Dred increased the gravity below Arthur, pulling him instantly to his knees and forcing his sword into the ground.

Arthur crumpled, the sudden sensation of weight too much for him to stand. The two guards raised their swords in unison, but before either could land a killing blow they were both engulfed in flame, their bodies writhing and contorted as them crumbled to ash.

The sudden weight gone, Arthur retrieved his sword and ran towards the next group of guards, swinging his blade in a downward arc and burying it in the neck of the first one he encountered. “Focus on Mor-Dred!” he yelled, hoping that Merlin could hear him.

Merlin turned, searching the surrounding skies. He barely had time to react as an arc of lightning approached from beside him, burning a line across his chest. Merlin fell backwards, knocked off his feet by the force of the blast, and watched as Mor-Dred approached.

“I'm going to kill one of them,” Mor-Dred said confidently, moving his fingers and watching the electricity crackle between them. “And I'm going to make you choose which one. Your beloved King? His woman? Perhaps the strange creature, the Teleri? Where are they, by the way? Where are your friends when you need them, Merlin?”

“On their way,” Merlin lied as he got painfully to his feet. His chest ached and his knees throbbed, every movement and effort.

“On their-” Mor-Dred began before he suddenly stopped, his eyes growing wide as he realised something was wrong.

“You try to trick me?” he screamed. “Me!”

The air around Mor-Dred rippled and Merlin saw immediately what he was trying to do. Mor-Dred hoped to transfer himself to the castle, just as the door beneath the Isle of Corbenic had for Merlin and Arthur. Merlin focussed on the rippling air, distorting it, making it solid. Mor-Dred pushed against him, desperately trying to transfer his code through the network but Merlin cut him off at every turn.

“Do you honestly think, I would let you go, that easily?” Merlin said mockingly, every word an effort. Mor-Dred screamed and turned, arms raised and ready to attack.

*****

Gwen rushed forwards, a sword in each hand. She kicked off the wall to her left, vaulting over the approaching guard and landing in a crouch behind him, turning and driving both blades into his back. As he fell, she withdrew the swords and turned to face the guards advancing upon her from the throne room.

Triltan held back, out of her depth. Perhaps if she'd had her rifle she could have helped, but fighting with swords was something she had experience of. Instead, she kept as close to the wall as she could, wincing every time a guard's sword came close to striking Gwen and closing her eyes momentarily as Gwen cleaved limbs from torsos.

The throne room was more heavily guarded than Gwen had expected. She had managed to dispatch the four guards protecting the outer door with ease, mainly due to the element of surprise she had over the previously invulnerable soldiers. However, the guards in the throne room were making her work for every kill.

She had managed to kill three while four more were left bleeding, their hamstrings sliced or legs separated from their bodies. The soldiers kept coming though, appearing from the doorway leading to the dungeons and more from those opposite. She was in danger of becoming overwhelmed.

“Triltan!” Gwen yelled. “Anything?”

Triltan looked up, startled. Gwen was backing up towards her, swords raised. Triltan didn't know what was expected of her, how Gwen expected her to help. She wasn't a fighter, she knew computers, she-

Exactly, she knew computers and the soldiers were nothing but code. She'd already altered them once, rewriting their programming so Gwen and Arthur could fight them. What else could she do to help?

Triltan accessed her capsule, analysing the code that made up the closest guard. Appearance, behaviour; it was all there, right in front of her. She scanned quickly through the various subroutines and tweaked and erased until the guards before her slowed, their movements looking as though they were underwater. A moment later they stopped completely, frozen in mid-motion, like statues.

Gwen stopped too, hands resting on her thighs as she breathed deeply. “Thanks,” she said in between laboured breaths. “I didn't realise there were so many of them.”

“They should stay like that,” Triltan replied. “Well, unless someone starts them moving again.”

“Merlin and Arthur will be keeping Mor-Dred busy,” Gwen reassured her. “You need to crash this simulation before he gets the upper hand.”

“What about you?” Triltan asked.

“I've got one more promise to keep,” Gwen said sternly.

*****

Worm!
The fragment was screaming in Mor-Dred's ears.
Maggot! Usurper!

“You'll pay!” Mor-Dred yelled as he turned his attention upon Merlin. “You'll pay for this. Every day, for a thousand years, you'll beg me to release you from the agonising torment of your existence!”

Merlin backed away, an arc of lightning surging past him. He'd managed to stop Mor-Dred from returning to the castle, but keeping hold on that block was drawing his concentration. The sound of fighting continued to his left, Arthur's ongoing clashes with Mor-Dred's guards. Metal clanged against metal as voices cried out in pain and triumph. Merlin wanted to turn and look, to check on Arthur, but if his concentration wavered even for one moment, Mor-Dred would disappear.

“Do you think you have a chance?” Mor-Dred said, his voice regaining its normal calm composure. “Do you think I didn't account for this possibility? I built all of this just for you, Merlin, you and your boy-king. I knew you'd fight me, try to escape. I saw every step you'd make and I put measures in place to stop you.

“You're not leaving here, none of you, not ever.”

“Then why do you look so scared?” Merlin asked, pushing both hands forwards and firing jets of flame. Mor-Dred sidestepped it easily without breaking his stride.

“You mistake fear for excitement,” Mor-Dred continued. “All this? This is fun! Perhaps we'll do it again? I might call it Wildfire Wednesdays? No, that won't do. Give me time, I'll come up with something better!”

The sounds of fighting stopped abruptly and both Mor-Dred and Merlin turned in surprise to see why. Arthur stood surrounded by soldiers, swords raised in various postures of attack, but the soldiers were static and unmoving. Arthur looked just as surprised as any of them, his sword still held in a parrying stance as he turned in a slow arc.

“No, you can't,” Mor-Dred exclaimed, the fear now showing in his voice as well as his face. “That's, no.”

Mor-Dred's face contorted, fear becoming anger, becoming rage. His eyes burned brightly as the very blood seemed to boil beneath his chitin plates. Mor-Dred cast his hand forwards, gesturing towards Arthur's uncertain form. Arthur suddenly flew into the air, yelling as the sword fell from his grip before plummeting again, hitting the ground hard. Merlin stared, trying to cushion Arthur's fall, but Arthur was already moving too fast. He hit the ground feet first, his legs buckling as his bones snapped.

Arthur screamed.

Mor-Dred disappeared.

*****

Triltan nervously picked her way between the motionless guards, convinced that they may move again at any minute and attack her. She tried to concentrate on the plan, hoping it would distract her long enough to do what she needed to.

She accessed her capsule with a thought and looked out over the throne room, analysing the code as it moved all around her. The castle was the primary hub of the simulation, the central point that all the data moved through, and as she looked around she was able to see that the throne itself was the nexus she was searching for.

Makes sense
, she thought as she climbed upon the dais and sat down.
If Mor-Dred wanted to monitor the simulation, he'd make sure it was where he spent most of his time.

Triltan watched the terabytes of code move and swirl around her, millions of pieces of information passing by in a heartbeat. She had no hope of shutting it down herself, it was simply too big and convoluted to that. Her only hope was to crash the system, make the simulation so unstable that it collapsed around them. Once the system crashed, all the data streams would return to their point of origin, waiting for the mainframe to reboot. The points of origin, she hoped, were the minds of each and every person trapped within.

She accessed her capsule and began to manipulate the data, deleting segments, moving others, all at random. The more she interfered with the normal working of the simulation, the more unstable it would become. She had no idea how long it would take, how much damage she would have to do, but every piece of data she manipulated brought her one step closer to her goal.

“What are you doing?” a voice asked. Triltan looked up, terrified, as Mor-Dred stepped towards her, his eyes blazing with hatred.

“You weren't even invited!” Mor-Dred continued, screaming at her. “This is my world, mine! Do you think you can just come in here and interfere?”

Triltan froze, her body refusing to move as Mor-Dred advanced.

*****

Gwen crept down the stairs to the dungeons, a sword held loosely in her right hand. One of Mor-Dred's guards stood at the bottom, frozen in place, his left foot hovering just above the first stair. Gwen squeezed past him and into the corridor beyond.

Being back in the dungeon sent a shiver down her spine, an overwhelming sense of dread. She thought back to the moment Lance's broken body had been dumped before her in the cell, the feelings of utter helplessness and despair which had gripped her.

Gwen reacted automatically to the slashing blade, curling out of the way as she brought her own sword up to deflect the blow. The jailer had been hiding in one of the empty cells and had attempted to attack her as she  walked past the half open door.

“You're ruining it,” the jailer cried as he swung again. “You've ruined everything!”

Gwen dodged the second swing as easily as the first, stepping in towards the jailer to stop him swinging a third time. He was no match for her, not without guards to protect him, and his attack was one of desperation. Gwen drove the pommel of her sword into the jailer's face, knocking him off his feet.

“Why?” Gwen asked angrily, the tip of her sword held against the jailer's throat.

“Why what?” the jailer stammered, trying to wriggle backwards. As he moved, Gwen pressed down harder, the tip slipping between his chitin plates.

“Why?” Gwen asked again. She didn't need to say any more, not to him. He knew what he'd done, what he'd taken from them.

“He said I could,” the jailer offered by way of apology. “He's the King, he said it would be alright. It was just a bit of fun, that's all.”

“How many died for your
fun
?” Gwen asked, her anger rising. The jailer tried to squirm away again as she pressed down harder, the blade slipping further into his throat. She looked down as the jailer tried to speak, but thick black blood bubbled from between his lips. A moment later it was all over.

Gwen stared at the body of the man who would haunt her nightmares for years to come. Had she done that to him? Was his death justice, or vengeance, and did it really matter? She couldn't let him leave the simulation with the others, live amongst them, have more of his
fun.
What she'd done, it was necessary, but that didn't make her feel any better.

Gwen drew the blade from his corpse and dropped to the floor, her legs held tight against her chest as the tears began to fall. She sat there, sobbing, her eyes closed tightly as she waited for the world to end.