 
The Meadow of my Dreams

By Paul R Glazier

Published by Paul R Glazier at Smashwords

Copyright 2012 Paul R Glazier

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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## Chapter 1. Stairway to Heaven

Petré gasped for breath. His heart hammered against the inside of his ribcage as if trying to free itself from the confines of his body. It had taken him hours to reach this far, his heart, like the rest of his body, constantly reminded him that he was not used to this sustained physical effort.

The chief medical officer was constantly reminding the whole population how important aerobic exercise was for personal health. There was after all a gymnasium with numerous exercise classes available, and an open area where several popular team sports were played. Petré enjoyed the sport, tried to attend as many games as possible and as regularly as possible when time allowed. Yet, as always, this annual climb always seemed to involve different sets of muscles from those he used on an everyday basis. Or maybe it was just the repetitive nature of his efforts, lifting one foot and then the other to climb the seemingly endless stairway.

He stood once more upon one of the many stone landings that gave some welcome respite and he took the opportunity to rest before alighting on what must be the last and final flight – he hoped. He knew he was close, for the circular patch of sky above him was very wide now, he could feel the warmth radiating down, heating the cold damp stone around him. He found further clues to his proximity in that the stone was increasingly festooned with curtains of green algae, a sign that some sunlight consistently reached down to this depth. After a deep breath he lifted his head and stared longingly upwards. There it was, the wide opening of the cistern, the gaping hole in the surface of the world that spoke of ages gone by, reminding him of why he made this annual trip and the culminating reward for his efforts. The muscles in his neck complained with an increasing aching and he was forced to look back down.

In the opposite direction, the great chasm of the cistern disappeared into darkness far below, a permanent darkness where sunlight didn't ever reach. There lay his world, the only world he had ever known. Yet he knew there was another place, a wonder far removed from the one he was familiar with. It waited above him, already the light and warmth emanating from above spoke in lyrical sensations, the promise of things to come.

With these thoughts still in his mind he stroked the vertical surface of the rock by the side of him as he walked along the landing. His gloved fingertips tracing familiar patterns, marks in the stone he had carved there the first time he had found himself in this place. He had been a child then, probably nine or ten, it had been a great adventure, a way of testing himself, an exciting challenge, but also a way of rebelling.

He had discovered the staircase during one of the Silo's annual maintenance periods, when the cistern was emptied of its billions of gallons of water. His father, in response to his questions about the discovery, had told him that it would be certain death to make this climb. When Petré asked how this could be, the old man had just grasped him by the shoulders and said whilst looking sternly into his eyes.

"There is nothing above, only death. Do not ever consider climbing up that stair, if you do you will never come back down."

He had believed his father of course, the disciplines that had been repeatedly thrust into him from birth demanded such strict compliance. Survival was all that mattered, keep the race of man going at all cost. For that was the reason for his people living so far underground, the under-world that was the Silo. A place secure from the ravages of an enemy intent upon their total extermination.

There were many such Silos according to the records, yet nobody knew exactly how many, but they had probably numbered in the many hundreds. He was also taught about the wars that raged, knew his people were a remnant, all that was left of a race struggling to survive. He knew they had come down here, built these Silo's to hide away from the devastation that lay above, a last-ditch effort to save mankind from oblivion.

This Silo, his Silo, kept in direct contact with two other such places, this was for security, the exact geographical locations of these other two he did not know, again for security. But these other two kept sending messages, as did his Silo, such messages would be sent regularly to let the other Silos know they were still there, that they still existed, that there were still other survivors.

This was the norm; his kind had been born and had died within the Silo. But ever since the discovery of the stair, he couldn't help thinking that the old books no longer held first-hand knowledge, they just held stories, for none now lived that remembered the life before. Such tales had become myth and legend, alien experiences recorded by an unknown hand. As he grew Petré increasingly found himself needing to know the accuracy of those words, needed to know if what they described was still the truth, if it were ever the truth, or did they live in fear because of someone's wild imagination, the victims of fictional stories. Did a war still rage? Was the world's atmosphere as poisoned as the books dictated? Was it instant death to leave the safety of the Silo as his father had promised? Hiding in fear had become their lifestyle, habitual to the extent that Petré now wondered if they were blinded by it, did their infatuation with safety and seclusion in fact prevent their ever changing? The many books, the written warnings, these words described such horrors. But what appeared in ink could never change, was it then the case that those who read the books should never change either? Were they to comply, to continue to believe? As he grew older increasingly Petré found he needed to know, needed to test the theory, he needed to see for himself what lay above in the world. But no one had been up there to the surface, none had climbed the stair. He had a burning desire to know. So against his father's wishes and probably the wishes of the rest of the inhabitants, the young boy had eventually given in to his curiosity and sneaked away, climbed the stair for the first time.

He smiled at his next thoughts. What he had found above had taken his breath away, it had changed him forever, made him turn into something totally different, a boy with a completely revised outlook on his existence and a much revised depth of knowledge.

He started up the stairs once again. One thing was for sure, the cistern in which he climbed had not changed. It was a vast circular chasm, a massive hole drilled deep into the earth, using a technology that the people within the Silo had forgotten long ago, for no books recorded how the Silos were constructed or who had designed them. Normally the cistern held billions upon billions of gallons of water, firstly coolant for the ancient machinery that ran inside the Silo keeping it alive and secondly as an impenetrable barrier, securing the entrance of the Silo. Long ago the water for the Silos had been extracted from the surrounding lands and oceans, as a result the whole western continent had become a high dry desert, all the land sucked dry, the surrounding ocean levels lowered significantly. How the designers had done this he didn't know, part of that same lost technology that existed during the Silos construction no doubt. But each Silo's cistern had been filled in this way.

At the very bottom of the cistern was a deep sump designed to catch any detritus and debris sinking down from above. The first time he had stepped out of the Silo above the sump he had discovered the waters to be teaming with fish and other wildlife that normally lived within the waters of the cistern. He was glad that the builders of the Silo had the foresight to include this within their designs, or perhaps it was just by accident, he did not know. The wildlife that did survive in the cistern had to be special to, for the water became slowly contaminated over the twelve months between maintenance as it flowed around the system that cooled the vast machines, it eventually became poisonous to drink, deadly even to swim in. But the fish and other creatures had adapted, they had over time evolved immunity to these poisons. Perhaps humanity could do the same, perhaps they too could adapt back into the world above.

Above this sump was a wide circular platform and set into the wall on one side was a large door through which access could be gained into the Silo itself, as far as Petré understood this was the only access in and out of the Silo. Normally this door was submerged deep within the waters except for this one week in every year when maintenance was undertaken and the water removed for filtering and cleaning. Having your front door hidden and protected by many fathoms of poisonous water would certainly discourage any plans of infiltration or attack. But he frowned, for it also meant that exit from the Silo was generally discouraged in the same manner.

His thoughts returned to his exertions. An eager anticipation grew within him, his goal was near now. Long strands of straggly green weed now hung limply down from these higher regions alongside the algae, more life-giving sunlight could reach down through the water and give its life-giving energy to the process of photosynthesis. Petré had been up there many times now and he knew his reward, what would meet his eyes at the top, the vista that would be a feast for his senses and also refresh his very soul. Never had he experienced any danger. Yet for all his pleading, his father would still not accept it, many years of conditioning had closed the mind of his father, a mind locked in the past. His father's words repeated over in his mind.

"It is not safe Petré, whatever may be up there is an illusion, for the many dangers still exist, we cannot afford to be complacent, discovery would mean certain death."

Petré shook his head as if to disperse such thoughts, but as always a certain anxiety remained. He couldn't be certain that the reward for his labours would still actually be there. Twelve months was plenty of time for something to befall the world above, maybe this time it wouldn't be there, destroyed perhaps by whatever it was his father feared. But that was part of the reason for this annual sojourn; the need to check, to reassure himself, that such breath-taking beauty still remained high above within the real world, a stark contrast to his existence in the world below.

As he gathered his breath and strength to attempt the final leg of his exertions, he thought of all the lands, all the world that must exist beyond his small home. He knew enough to understand that what lay above was a direct result of the presence of water, moisture available in abundance within the vicinity of the cistern, but the lands beyond most probably remained a ravaged, waterless desert, a wasteland.

He gathered himself, he breathed deeply and hungrily of the free air. This in itself was a risk, for his people had spent hundreds of years breathing sterile air, living within a controlled and artificially deep cleansed environment. Any unprotected contact with the outside world, meant an increased risk of attack, so even the air they breathed was the product of a machine. Thus, over generations his people had devolved their natural biological immunity, the natural protection, the natural safety systems within their bodies had degenerated to nothing because of their artificially generated redundancy.

But he and his family were maintenance technicians and as a result were sometimes exposed to the dirt of the outside, the dirt that crept in through all manner of routes, especially at times like these when the cistern was drained. He didn't realise it, but this had helped to keep his immune system alive. Sometimes this had been at a cost, his early years had been punctuated by many regular medical checks and inoculations, but despite having his body pumped full of a cocktail of different chemicals, it had still taken half of his current age to train his body to fight against the biological and chemical intrusions. Like all of his kind, he had paid the price in illness, one of which had almost killed him, but he had become stronger for it and built up a precious immunity. But there was another cost to this advantage, maybe the highest cost of all, for the ruling inhabitants of the Silo regarded him and his family and their like as being filthy, contaminated. In reality he and his kind were outcasts, never to mix with the clean sterile inhabitants of the Silo itself.

The majority of the populace within the Silo shunned them, imposed exile upon him and his small community, for if they entered the main part of the Silo they would bring with them the risk of infection. To a populace without any immunity this would be disastrous, most likely cause an epidemic and in such a close society this would rampage through them in days, probably killing most of them in less time. Thus he and his kind were a class apart, the untouchables, they were shunned for the very reason he was able to make this journey, for he and the generations of his family before him were the caretakers of the cistern, this half kilometre wide vertical hole he had just climbed up the inside of. He told himself it was worth it just to have a natural immunity; his biological make-up was more akin with ancient mankind. But his exile also allowed these pilgrimages back into an ancient world, of freedom from the self-imposed exile within the Silo. A small taste of a real life, a life with much more freedom, an exciting life away from suffocating physical confines and closed minds.

Petré stood, drew in a long breath of natural unprocessed air that flowed in from above. Only one more flight now, another two hundred steps and he would be there. He took a second deep breath, placed his foot upon the next step, the metal ring onto which he clung rattled against the rock wall as he released it, the sound echoing down into the darkness below. Step after step he raised one foot then the other, willing his muscles to obey, the agony of the complaining muscles in his legs tried to dissuade him, make him stop. He gritted his teeth and pursed his lips and pushed the pain down.

Then suddenly and without warning or ceremony he was there. He pressed the stone switch in the rock wall, stone steps slid out from the curved surface, the last few steps, the last few metres to freedom. He climbed, his feet rising in turn ready for the next step, but then his foot found no further torturous tread on which to heave his bodily weight upon. He stood still, stared at the warm, dry rock. Somehow he wanted to retain the inevitability of that last step, retain the feeling of excitement, the anticipation of his goal. He stood up, taking his hands from his knees, the muscles in his back complained. Keeping his eyes closed he leant backwards stretching his spine into some semblance of the shape it should be.

When the dull aching in his back diminished he finally felt ready, felt fully able to savour the reward to its fullest. He opened his eyes and immediately all pain was forgotten. He gasped, slowly turning around full circle. He laughed, his delight uncontainable. It was still here. The beauty of it lifted his very soul. Somehow the sight made many subconscious associations in his mind and his emotions, it was if this vista was hard-wired into him at the very base levels of his consciousness. Joyous euphoria sored through him as he looked around. He raised both arms high to either side and laughed out loud.

## Chapter 2. The Watchers

The Commander waited as the soldiers came through the portal one by one. Whilst waiting the Commanders thoughts turned to the indigenous race upon this world, the humans. They had reached a watershed in their evolution. The time had finally come, the decision finally made to initiate first tentative contact with them. This crucial decision was sparked by the level of knowledge they exhibited. At least one group of mankind had discovered how to exploit the natural source of energy available to them, learned that the one limitless energy source that surrounded them could be called upon to do many things.

It was the same with all the races discovered so far. Each were defined by their intellectual achievement, by their discovering how to effectively harness this most ancient of energy sources. Some could utilise this energy in many ways, others were more specialised. But the one thing they had in common was knowledge of the energy of the arcane, the inexplicable force that held everything together, the power that was just there from the very beginning of creation. It could not be generated, and by its very nature it would never run out. Those enlightened with this knowledge called themselves the Combined Races, for they combined their differing skills, each adding something specific to the whole.

So perhaps the latest race to join this elite club could be the race of humankind. Certain factions of their population had exhibited an awareness of the Arcane, to utilise it, even if they didn't yet grasp how to properly harness the power efficiently. So the Combined Races had made plans to study humankind, eventually perhaps invite them into the fold, offer them teaching and the knowledge to develop their discovery in the right direction, the safe direction. For if they were left alone, the risks of using their knowledge in the wrong way were high, for the arcane could equally be a tool of great destruction as well as construction.

But before first contact could be made, and to the great disappointment of the Combined Races, the humans had engaged in a war. Before they had a chance to learn, mankind in his ignorance and hatred had misused their rudimentary knowledge of the arcane, they had foolishly unleashed the energy into their world completely uncontrolled as a weapon of destruction. So the Combined Races had withdrawn, they had not made contact as they planned, had not offered help and guidance. They returned to their monitoring, watching what the humans were doing, just in case there came a time when once again they could resurrect their plans.

But as they watched their hopes faded, the humans were bent on their own self destruction, they didn't seem to be interested in peace. The war was so destructive that within a century they had all but wiped themselves out and destroyed their world in the process. The race of humans had diminished to the extent that there weren't enough of them left to even accomplish peace. The divisions were too great, and the feelings of mistrust ran so deep, they could never be forgotten. So many generations of man had taken up the mantle of war. Humans did not forgive easily, and they never forgot old hurts. Old hatreds and prejudices ran deep; each generation was intent upon passing on their misguided beliefs and each generation enhanced and amplified the ill feeling until it became an all-encompassing passion. As the generations of mankind came and went, their deep-rooted thoughts driven by all-consuming hatred became their mantra, there was no initiative to change, to forgive and forget, such compassion didn't even enter their wildest dreams. It seemed they would rather wipe out their race than seek redemption.

To the Combined Races this was a perverted and futile way of life. They hoped that in some way the humans would see sense, embark upon a path of peace once again. In the meantime the Commander was ordered to make these short visits into the world of men, to make notes and collect samples from a dying world so that one day perhaps recovery may be made.

The Commander sighed and shook all thoughts of this worlds history away. The Commander was tasked to watch over the vast western continent of the world of men, a stark and featureless place, an immense desert of red dust covering the entire landscape from east to west. There were areas of the world which quite frankly proved far more interesting than this featureless landscape of burning sun and wind blown dust, but this was the place the Commander was assigned. The Commander knew that to the east across the vast expanse of an almost dried up ocean bed lay another continent, the second largest landmass of this world, probably around two thirds the size of the continent of the red desert. But this other landmass was a wasteland of a differing sort. An unpredictable place of loose chaotic arcane energies, shifting landscapes and battering energy storms. This landmass was also divided neatly into two halves by an enormous mountain range that ran the length of the continent north to south. The north of both these halves still lay frozen, a third kind of wasteland, a place frozen solid, a place of shifting ice and smothering snow.

For the most part the world of man was decimated; the human conflict was of such proportion that it had all but destroyed the indigenous populations, flora and fauna. The uncontrolled release of the Arcane energy on the eastern continent had slowly tilted the world off its normal axis and moved it inwards slightly to a closer orbit around the solar systems star, the humans called their star the sun. This movement had caused changes in the natural worldwide environment that had all but killed off the natural plant and wildlife of the world. Fearing the worst the Commanders people had collected samples of anything they could find, samples from the smallest microbe to the largest complex animal. That was the main purpose for the Commander and his soldiers being here, they were tasked with secretly collecting whatever they could. A collection process designed to save everything possible and keep it safe for a time in the future when stability once again came to the world. Material to use in its rebuilding.

The Commander had first found this valley three years previously, stumbled across it on a routine patrol. At first their initial scans of the red desert had not indicated any life, the desert appeared sterile. But then one day a patrol had come across the red wall rising up from the desert. At first they had thought it an eroded mountain range, but it was strange how such a place existed deep in the red sands of the desert. The rocky outcrop was perfectly circular in shape and very uniform in its appearance. Investigations of seismic, geological or erosive activity all proved negative. The place was obviously unnatural; nature after all did not create such uniformity, at least not in this geological form.

Even more surprising was that the rock wall concealed a hidden valley, the valley itself sustained many life forms, plant, insect and small complex creatures with vertebrae. There was an immense amount of water here, the only place in the entire desert where surface water could be found. A large perfectly circular lake of crystal clear water lay in the dead centre of the valley floor. The water kept the valley sustained. Nowhere else was such a vast amount of water to be found in the deep desert, at least not nearby. The Commander had widened the search, see if any other such places existed. What they found was that many such places did indeed exist.

The Commander had made regular visits to this one particular place over the years since its discovery. It had been agreed that this place would remain the focus of investigation, rather than risk going to the others. Never had the Commander come across anything to suggest risk discovery. But this time as the Commander reached the top of the circular wall surrounding the hidden valley something brought a frown to the Commanders features. This time the view down into the valley was different, for the first time something had changed. The blue waters that had made up the perfectly circular lake in the valley centre were gone, somehow drained away. Instead of clear blue water there was a deep circular opening that appeared to be leading down into the subterranean depths. Something had happened, the lake couldn't have evaporated; it consisted of such a large body of water even the desert sun could not have burned off so much since the Commanders last visit. Perhaps something had happened below, an earthquake or some other disaster that had caused the waters to recede? Yet they had not detected any such tell-tale seismic activity. The only other explanation could be that the waters had been purposely pumped away to somewhere else. Which would mean that this valley and whatever lay below it was indeed a constructed thing with a purpose as yet unknown.

The Commander's forces were under strict instruction not to risk discovery. To do so could spell disaster for both parties, but not perhaps in the same way. There was a tunnel that entered the valley from the desert outside, the tunnel had a gate but this remained open as if it welcomed people to come in, to seek sanctuary from the harsh environment outside. But the Commander never used this entrance, preferring the anonymity of the climb over the rock wall and into the valley. If the original builders of this wall remained hidden close by so that they could watch the gateway then the route over the wall was less of a risk.

The Commander crouched looking once more out across the valley to the centre scrutinising the deep dark chasm where the lake had once been. The sun burned down fiercely but the clothing the Commander wore afforded good protection. Why had the waters drained away? What purpose did this have? Perhaps something was about to exit the hole? After all hundreds of metres depth of water would prove good protection for anything that resided deep below the surface of the waters. The Commander stood once again and continued to walk around the rim of the valley towards the place that provided a suitable way down the vertical cliff wall on the inside.

A sudden movement upon the edge of the chasm in the centre of the valley set reflexes into motion and the Commander crouched quickly. Had it been imagination? The Commander scrutinised the spot carefully. Yes there, a small movement on the edge of the chasm, something was coming out of the vast hole, but not anything so large as to require such a hole to conceal it. No this was a figure; a human had climbed out and now stood on the very edge. To the Commanders surprise the figure raised both arms and jigged about as if in a state of elation. Had this figure managed to escape some form of captivity or worse and was now relishing their newfound freedom?

Never before had they seen any signs of any indigenous people on this continent. On the eastern continent there were scattered groups of human population. But here in this western continent nothing had ever been seen of human activity - until now.

The Commander continued to stare at the figure, were their others? An army perhaps about to appear out of the bowels of the earth? The Commander waited, the figure then behaved oddly once again. It held its arms out in front and dived onto the ground, then it rolled around grasping at plants and running hands along the ground, seed spores exploded into the air all around where the figure lay, then the figure began to sneeze, the Commander could hear the sound from atop the rock wall. The figure stood and wiped its nose upon the sleeve of its jacket, when the sneezing had subsided the figure began to run and dance across the meadow. The Commander detected a deep and joyous feeling from the figure, it made the Commander smile. Whoever this human was, they were obviously relishing the experience of being here.

The Commander watched the figure prance about in their joyous state, this was not what the Commander expected, these people were supposed to be war-like, a great threat, not only to each other but even to the very environment in which they lived. This figures actions did not match those assumptions. The joy and love the figure had for the meadow within the valley was plain to see.

Suddenly the Commander moved, stood up. Not because of the figure or the apparent lack of threat posed. No, the Commander had seen something else, something beyond the valley. Far out over the desert across the other side there appeared several small black dots high in the blue sky, they had appeared from over the horizon. The flight path of the dots was not erratic like windblown debris and they were individual and small, nothing like the wind-blown sand storms that regularly appeared. No these dots had purpose, they were headed straight for the valley and they were growing rapidly in size.

The Commander had an ill feeling about this, it would seem someone or something else had also been watching the valley, perhaps even detected the presence of the Commander and his soldiers? Had they unwittingly led something else here? The Commander stood tall and looked down the outside wall of the cliff at the remainder of the soldiers where they waited on the hot sands below, the Commander made several silent gestures. One figure in the force acknowledged with a salute. The force as one started to move away, following along the rock wall towards the entrance tunnel. They drew weapons as they went. When the Commander turned back once more to look at the figure in the valley, the figure was quite obviously looking directly at the Commander's position. The Commander uttered a curse. So the figure was aware of the Commander's presence high on the rock wall. This was unfortunate, but there was no time to dwell on it, the damage had been done; the Commander heard the scream of motors in the distance. The now larger dark dots moved towards the valley, they seemed to accelerate to a faster pace across the red sands of the desert. The Commander frowned, the Commander knew of these machines, had faced them several times before. The Commander wished that more care had been taken when they first discovered the valley. If the Commander and the soldiers below had led the machines to this place then the ramifications could be dire especially now that the Commander suspected that there may be a human population living here. The Commander quickly made a decision, then searched for the way down to the valley floor, the wind-eroded gulley that ran down almost vertically. Finding it quickly, the Commander dropped down lithely using each small crack or protrusion as a stepping-stone. Reaching the valley floor in less than a minute the Commander sprinted in the direction of the figure.

## Chapter 3. Under Attack

Petré's eyes gazed upon the mass of colour. His nose feasted upon varied aromas hanging upon the cool breeze. All of his senses seemed to relish the look, the feel. He walked forward and dropped to his knees, then sitting back upon his haunches he hesitated looking down at the swathes of green. Waves of growth waltzed gently back and forth in unison upon the warm breeze. He plunged his hands into the grass and relished its feeling. He lay on his stomach. Sprawled out he rolled and rolled through the grass and laughed, just as if he were that same young boy once again, here for the first time. He was so happy, it was still here, all of it, still here!

Minutes later he was cavorting through the meadow of green, his hands brushing against the stems and leaves of the grasses and other plants that grew in abundance. Blooms of all shapes, large and small, bobbed upon the playful breeze. Small creatures buzzed amongst the flowers without noticing him, all busy upon some other errand of their own. He had removed his protective gloves, even his boots and socks had been cast aside, turning his hands he allowed his fingertips to brush the plants as he walked; the sensation touched him in ways he didn't think possible. It was as if tiny electric pulses coursed through his fingers and toes each time they made contact with the plants. He raised his eyes, drinking in the vista of the meadow as they played out before him, swathes of excitement washed through his senses. The sunlight streamed down from a cloudless blue sky. Onwards he walked like a small boat pushing lazily through sluggish warm waters. The green sea washing either side of him, returning back once more behind him, hiding his leisurely progress.

His eyes lifted, focussed upon the high red cliffs that surrounded the valley far across the other side of the meadow. He knew these cliffs, knew every feature of them, they surrounded the meadow, this world ended at those rocky walls, for in reality these cliffs were just that, a man-made wall. High and once perfectly formed, symmetrical, manufactured. Yet like his people even that rock had been worn away, eroded by the forces of nature outside. Within the walls another natural force had recovered this place from the hell that was the world outside. Beyond that wall still lay a place of utter desolation, a place of hatred and aggression. He likened it to hell, a place he had read of in the stories of ancient times. A place of fire and immeasurable and eternal suffering. He hated what was beyond the wall, although he had never seen it for himself. He also hated the wall itself, he despaired that the wall was necessary to maintain such beauty, that a man made obstruction ensured that such magnificence be protected, but still confined.

Suddenly his eyes squinted, had he seen movement? There high upon the top of the wall? There, yes there upon the wall. He squinted once more into the bright light. Surely it couldn't have been anything, yet he knew this view by heart, knew every nook and cranny of the surrounding cliff wall. There, high upon the wall, something was not right, something that should not be there, a tiny shape out of place. As he watched the area a strange dark spot moved catching his eye. Something, no someone, was positioned high on the wall looking in his direction. He could not see the eyes, make out the features, not at this distance. Yet he knew, felt in his very soul that the figure scrutinised him. The figure moved, the silhouette against the bright blue sky was unmistakable. The figure now ran along the top of the wall obviously not attempting to hide themselves in anyway. The figures movements were perfectly synchronised, the top of the wall was uneven yet the figure strode along as if it were a flat paved pathway, perfectly level.

He felt afraid, then angry. Someone else was here? Never had he seen another before. He continued looking at the figure as it moved, sometimes jumping nimbly across fissures in the wall that formed the horizon of his world. The figure suddenly came to a halt and dropped onto one knee as if suddenly it understood that it had been seen and wanted to make some attempt to disguise itself. It seemed to fix its gaze on something. Then without hesitation the figure jumped forward, dropping downwards and disappeared as if the wall had swallowed it. Petré watched the spot for many minutes, but nothing showed itself again.

The buzzing of the small creatures continued. One had obviously come close to his ear for it was louder than the rest, still staring at the top of the wall, he waived lazily at the point where he thought it would be, seeking to move the creature onwards, whilst he continued to stare at the point where the figure had disappeared. He stood and involuntarily started to walk slowly back towards the cistern, back to be closer to the stair case that led back down beneath the earth to his home and to safety. Petré felt unease, was the figure posing a threat, did it represent one of the many forms of death that his father had so vehemently talked of? The buzzing continued all around him as he walked, in fact it was growing in volume. Something blotted out the direct rays of the sun, utter shock coursed through him, his muscles went tense. He had been careless, the figure had thrown him, dulled his senses. Petré's heart gave a cry of despair, for there above a dark shape flew. He knew somehow that this presence heralded his death, he knew it to be a machine of war although he had never seen one. From an early age all the people of the Silo were taught about these war drones, they were the servants of the enemy, they would attack on sight and without mercy.

The war drone weaved purposely back and forth searching for something, searching for him, or perhaps the figure that had stood there on the wall. There was no doubt though, one or other of them, perhaps even both were being hunted. Petré dropped into the long grass lying flat and unmoving hoping against hope it was not him that it sought. Lifting his head slightly, he could just see the machine through the blades of green and coloured petals as they continued to dance around in the wind completely oblivious to this threat. The machine hung there high above hovering over the far cliff wall, the sun behind it. The figure had seen the machine first, that much was apparent, that was why they had run along the wall and dropped down.

The noise the war drone made changed in pitch and intensity, became a screeching as it accelerated forward and dropped down into the valley, it headed directly for him. Petré knew somehow it was the wail of death. His eyes opened wide in great fear. He forced himself to lay still. Immobile in the grass except for his shaking muscle spasms caused by the panic rising within him. The machine waivered for a second or so and continued towards him. It stopped right above where he lay. A prickling sensation ran across his skin, like rough fingers stroking his back. He knew then he had been detected, the machine had scanned him. Small doors on the underside of the machine snapped open and several small tube-like devices were being extended out through the openings.

In a moment Petré was up on his feet and running. Almost immediately there was a deafening thud, a pressure upon his ears and the place where he had been lying seconds before erupted in a shower of soil and plant material. Many clods hit him in the back and for a moment he was pitched forward, his ears felt like someone had clapped their hands on each side of his head and the sudden pressure was about to burst his eardrums. Then they rang with a ringing sound like a hammer falling on an anvil, to his great relief he managed to stay on his feet. The Drone had used its seismic weapon, tried to stun him, it increased the power of its attack in an attempt to overtake his flight. As the power of the weapon dug deeper, lumps of rock erupted from the deep gully that now appeared in the ground. Petré swore, he ran, nothing else in his mind just the act of placing one foot in front of the other. But he was still tired from his earlier exertions climbing the stair; his muscles still not fully recovered they complained bitterly. The drone stopped its onslaught, switching off the weapon so that it could pursue him. Within seconds it arrived right above his head once again. He ran quickly in another direction and it overshot. But it was agile and soon caught up with him once more. He dodged again, heard the deafening thud and again felt the clods of material hit him in the back as the weapon blew another hole in the earth, closer this time. The blast threw him forward, this time stunning him slightly, his hands slid along the ground crushing plants as they went, he felt several stinging cuts as blades of grass sliced into his skin, despite the stars in front of his eyes he was up again and running once more, trying to shake the fuzziness from his head. The drone again flew after its prey. He knew that it would get him in the end, the war drones were programmed to destroy; they would not give up until they had done so. It had almost limitless power, whereas his energy, already depleted, would be spent very soon. He gasped in air. It was only a matter of seconds. He suddenly realised that what his father warned of was all now becoming brutal reality. A minute at the most and he would go the way of so many of his race.

True to his fears he heard the Drone fire, felt its force catch him on his left leg, his muscles cramped and he was lying face down in the grass. He cried out in pain but soon enough the leg went numb and useless. He smelt the grass and the plants, tried to stand, but his left leg would not respond, he dropped once more breathing heavily. So this was it then. He felt the prickling sensation as the machine above him made its final scan, he felt pressure all across his body, he was pinned to the ground, unable to move a muscle. Then pain, pain beyond belief flowed through his lower back and spine. He smelt the sickening aroma of burning, the burning of his own clothing and worse the searing of his own flesh. The drone carefully and surgically cut through his skin, flesh and into bone. Then as suddenly as it had come the pain went, he thought he had either fainted or the Drone had shut down his nervous system. He fought to remember the meadow he loved so much. But suddenly the pain returned, immediately he prayed for death, the pain was so great, he didn't know how he could bare it for a second longer. His throat felt raw and dry, his lungs stung, he was screaming out in his pain. His heart pounded in his chest causing a nauseous sensation. Then he was afforded some respite once again, the pain remained but it was no longer creeping higher up his back, it had been replaced by a further sensation of numbness. The pressure holding him down into the grass was released and he gasped in great breaths of air. To his utter surprise the machine had flown away from him. It was tracking across the meadow at a right-angled course to the direction he had run in. He wanted to flee, find some shelter, even though he knew there was none, even though he knew that he probably couldn't rise any further let alone stand or walk, for the Drone had disabled him like a fly trapped in a spider's web. But some fascination kept him staring at the retreating machine through the flattened grass. What was it doing? Why hadn't it finished him, completed its grim work?

His eyes followed the direction the Drone flew in, it must have left its weapon at reduced power for the grass and plants were all being crushed to the ground beneath its flight path and Petré could see clearly along the path being cleared through the vegetation. A black figure ran towards him across the meadow. Loose clothing swirled about the figure as it ran, he wondered at the speed of the running figure; it seemed to cover far too much ground with each stride. He narrowed his eyes to see the figure better, he remembered the person he had seen high on the rock wall earlier. Had someone else managed to follow him up the cistern? Or was the figure from another Silo facility?

He wanted to warn the figure, wanted to save this newcomer. In great pain he looked up, trying to raise himself higher upon his elbows, something popped in his back and he felt the warm trickle of blood run down his side soaking his torn shirt. By now the Drone had climbed and was directly over the figure. The screaming of the weapon increased in pitch, he hung his head in sorrow as the meadow exploded beneath the onslaught of the weapon. He felt wet tears in his eyes. Felt a deep hatred in his heart. Felt a deep despair at this wanton destruction, this clinical need to destroy. He mourned the figures death; he hadn't even been given the chance to find out who this was that ran towards him. One less to continue the dwindling race of mankind, then he too would also join the ranks of the dead. He let his head fall forward, burying his face in the grass with fists and teeth tightly clenched. He knew he would be next. Tears flowed freely, for himself and for his race, for mankind.

The screaming of the weaponry stopped, he looked up and gasped, his heart gave a jump in his chest. There still running towards him through the meadow in a lithe and purposeful fashion ran the figure he had seen before. How?

The figure ran directly towards him, he was astonished. Something akin to exhilaration lessened his despair, the realisation that at least one of his race had outwitted the machines. But fear returned, the figure had been lucky once, that did not mean that they would survive a second time, or a third or a fourth. He knew the drone would not give up until it had completed its task. The black flowing robes blew around as the figure ran. Hints of shining metal could be seen beneath the billowing robes. Long black boots surrounding the lower legs of the figure to just below the knee. But more surprising was what the figure held. He had seen depictions of such weapons long ago in his teaching years within the Silo facility, when he was a child. He remembered feeling the romance of such a weapon. A weapon designed in times long gone by, many ages before in a distant time. The figure held a primitive ancient weapon, a longbow.

The figure soon arrived at his side, the face was hidden behind a mask, a hood was drawn up over the head. But it was the eyes that captivated Petré, they were a deep pale blue, they shone like starlight and showed deep emotion, one of deep concern and sorrow. The figure returned its attention on the rapidly approaching drone. In on fluid motion the figure leapt to what seemed an impossible height for human muscles to attain, at the same time turning in mid-air to face the oncoming machine. Something long was drawn from beneath the robes, an arrow with a bulbous end where perhaps the expected iron point should have been. The figure still twisted as it drew the bow, Petré could hear the creaking of the wood and the bowstring sang as the tension increased. The figure held the draw until the arrow pointed towards the approaching machine, the arrow was released and sped at incredible speed directly towards the oncoming drone. The figure landed by his side and immediately crouched, the hand that was now free placed upon Petré's shoulder. The touch was gentle, somehow deeply reassuring. Petré watched in fascination as the arrow sped through the air its shaft bowed and twisted slightly because of the forces exerted upon its release. The arrow seemed to strike the front of the craft and immediately a circle of darkness appeared, looking like a bottomless hole. The hole was more than just darkness though, it formed a complete blacker than black darkness, something darker than he had ever seen. The air shimmered around the blackness, the far wall beyond the edge of the darkness seemed to shiver and wave. The momentum of the drone still carried it forward, it seemed to push the dark hole in front of it. A breeze, then a strong wind rushed around Petré's head, the sudden air movement rushing towards the ever-nearing blackness. Loose soil and plant material from where the Drone had erupted the earth was lifted and sped towards the blackness. The dark circle now so close nothing beyond could not be seen. A maelstrom of wind and debris swirled around the hole, the noise was rising to a deafening crescendo. He felt the figure drop onto his back, pinning him to the ground even as he felt himself slightly lifted as if he too would be sucked into the black hole. He lost sight of everything as his head was pushed once more down into the blades of grass. There was a dull popping sound and a flash of light, then the pressure as released from above him as the figure rose. He turned and looked towards where he expected to see the black hole and the drone. The blackness was no longer there and to his utter surprise the drone was also gone. He turned to look at the figure now kneeling in the grass still facing in the direction the drone had been coming from, a second arrow had been placed and drawn. But the figure released the tension on the bow; there was obviously no need for the second arrow, so it was placed back within the robes once more, Petré had a glimpse of a quiver, many several arrows stored within. The figure stood, seemed to take in a deep breath and sigh, then half turned to look back at him. Words were said in a melodious voice, almost sung like a song, words Petré did not understand in an unknown language. The figure removed a black glove and bent towards him. Another word was said, again he had no idea what the figure was saying, but he felt gentle, slender hands running over his back. Petré bent his neck trying to keep eye contact with the figure. The blue eyes beneath the mask looked down at him, flashed between his face and his back, fathomless blue they seemed, tears welled within those eyes as the figure scrutinised what could only be his wounds. The figure uttered more words, sad words, tinged with some anger and with frustration. But the hand was extended towards him as if to aid him up, but he could not stand, could not feel anything now below his neck.

## Chapter 4. Rescued

Petré found he was gently picked up from the ground. Thankfully he could not feel anything from his wounds. He thought maybe nothing remained down there, for the figure picked him up with ease and lightly started to run across the grass. Blood dribbled down onto the figure robes and splashed onto the boots.

Petré wondered at the strength, for the figure ran just as fast as if they only carried their own weight. But Petré wanted to return, go back down the many steps to the facility deep in the earth, warn his father, his people. He could hear the screams of more war drones converging on them from behind. He caught glimpses of two or three of the death dealing craft maneuvering into position around them, they circled obviously wanting to cut them off from any escape. One drone came in for the kill, it flew straight for them, wanting to get directly above them so that it could use its weapon of death. But as it approached two other figures dressed similarly to the one that carried him came into his field of vision. Both figures raised and fired similar arrows they sped towards the drones. As before each arrow hit its intended target, from this angle Petré could see clearly as the machines seemed to distort in the air and once again the spreading blackness seemed to push the very atmosphere aside as two dark holes appeared in front of both the stricken machines. The figure changed direction slightly away from the nearest dark hole, obviously to lessen the influence it seemed to exert upon its immediate surroundings. Both machines engines screamed in reverse. Once more clods of earth and plant debris flew past them towards the darkness, many pieces where hitting the machines and bouncing off their hulls, it sounded like the grains of wind-blown sand across the dunes of the desert. A large piece of material, probably a rock shot into one of the machines engine air intakes. The machine faltered and lost altitude as the engine failed momentarily, pieces of rock and flaming material burst from the exhaust port. The machine lost power and immediately shot forward into the dark hole. The section of the hull nearest the blackness seemed to elongate, to become stretched as if it were melting. The rest of the hull quickly followed and the machine thinned and stretched, it elongated into an impossibly thin line before it was sucked into the dark blackness and disappeared along with a flash of light and a popping sound. The other machine had disappeared, obviously suffering a similar fate. Another drone came too close to the blackness before it disappeared and seemed to be caught in whatever incredibly strong attraction field the thing wielded. This time the self-destruct mechanism in the machine took over and it exploded in a fiery ball, but no sound was heard. To Petré's utter surprise, all of the exploding debris of the disintegrating craft, seemed to be expanding in one direction only, sucked into the blackness until nothing, not even a speck of dust remained. The blackness reduced and with that same popping noise and flash of light disappeared. The figure gestured to the other two, one stepped forward and held Petré, both now carried him gently the third had an arrow nocked and ready and was swiftly scrutinising the area around them. Once again they resumed their swift run across the meadow.

They were going towards the entrance tunnel that led through the rock walls surrounding the meadow. Once inside Petré was laid on the ground and voices could be heard. The figure that had saved him was talking with urgency with others. Petré rolled his head to one side, a dozen figures all looking like the one he had first seen stood about. One figure placed a hand inside their robes and brought out something small, Petré was shocked, this hand was not gloved like the rest of them, the fingers were long and ashen white in colour, the finger nails were also long and curved like claws. The hand was raised and the robes fell down the forearm to reveal skin of sickly white, but another black hole appeared before the figure and grew rapidly in size, the figure seemed to maneuver it around without touching it. This time the black hole did not suck anything into it, it just remained hanging in the air. After what seemed to be a moment of argument between two of the figures Petré was lifted under the arms and carried between two of the figures, they walked further into the tunnel, but where he would have expected to see into the tunnel for a way, see the rock walls that lined either side, and an exit out into the rust desert beyond, he could only see a dense blackness caused by the hole the figure had recently created somehow. They were perhaps less than ten metres away from the inky darkness at the most. The figures gathered their robes about them and walked into the darkness one by one. Then a screaming noise behind them announced the arrival of another drone, probably it as hovering in the entrance to the tunnel. Voices where heard and the two remaining figures plunged into the inky blackness and disappeared after they had handed him over to the figure behind him. Petré was then dragged forward and pushed into the darkness. He screamed, but he felt nothing, he seemed to have entered the black disk. He opened his eyes and looked down what appeared to be a long tunnel, at the far end he could see nothing, just a dark disk rapidly moving towards him and growing in size, but he had no sensation of movement, it just felt like he floated in space. Then he felt a wooziness overtake him and he closed his eyes, he lost consciousness before the end of the tunnel was reached.

## Chapter 5. An Unexpected Guest

D'Annu'Elle was waiting within the Hall of Passage. He stood in front of a circular ornate arch a little about half again taller than himself. The arch looked although it was made from smooth stone, like a piece of sculpture you may find in an ornamental garden. Inset round the circumference many black shiny stones about the size of a large pebble were set. This arch stood in the centre of an alcove, one of many set around the large chamber.

A dark oily swirling mass seemed to be held within the arch. The surface of this swirling mass writhed with colours. D'Annu'Elle waited as if he expected something to happen and soon. He was not alone, the quartermaster stood by his side and two female healers waited expectantly, the satchels holding the components of their craft slung across each of their shoulders. D'Annu'Elle, as always, hoped their particular skills would not be needed.

He found himself drawn to the Hall of Passage every time the patrols were due to return. He couldn't help it. He was concerned for all his soldiers, he felt great responsibility for them all, but not just them, to their families also. He would have gone with them like he used to before the pressures and expectations of lofty command denied him the privilege. If it was possible, he knew which he would choose to accompany, but he knew his presence would be confining, maybe off-putting for the person he had entrusted in his place. So he stayed behind. Out of respect for that person and because deep down he knew he was not needed. That particular Commander was very capable. D'Annu'Elle had personally overseen their training, seen to it that this Commander understood the military rulebook thoroughly. The rest was up to the Commander and he was pleased with the way that had turned out.

D'Annu'Elle's thoughts wandered as he waited. His people, the T'Iea had developed an art form from their military activity, it was a natural progression, an outlet for their races inbuilt agility and grace. They had found long ago they were good at it. Out of all the combined races, it was his race that really excelled in combat. Only the Grûndén and Ognods came anywhere near to them in fighting prowess, but where his race, the T'Iea, used speed and a natural agility in their actions to almost clinically remove their enemy as quickly as possible with well-placed attacks, both the Grûndén and the Ognods favoured heavy armour or brute force respectively to provide a full frontal attack to obliterate their foes under bone crushing, limb severing blows. All these methods were equally effective, the end result was the same, but he still winced at the brutality of the crushing attacks made by some these less subtle ways. He had to admit, on the rare occasions he had seen Grûndén armies going into battle it had been an impressive sight to behold.

In times gone by the T'Iea had long stood side by side with the Grûndén in battle, had a long-standing friendship, an alliance that both races upheld with honour. This had been the first alliance that would eventually become the combined races. The Grûndén had been the nearest neighbours to the T'Iea in terms of where their individual home worlds were positioned within the great void of the universe. When travel was made possible across the outer voids, the T'Iea and Grûndén had first discovered each other out in the voids. Bumped into one another in their ships of travel. They forged a good friendship from the start and as a result had always enjoyed close alliances with one another. The Grûndén were a sturdy folk, shorter in stature than the T'Iea, but immensely stronger in the arm, for they were delvers of the earth at heart. They were fed a constant diet of hard physical labour in tunnels as they mined and they had evolved because of those influences. The Grûndén home world was a ball of rock, continuously bathed in large amounts of harmful radiated energy due to its close proximity to the twin suns it orbited. Life was impossible on the surface; so all life had fled the surface of their world and evolved in the naturally occurring series of vast cavernous spaces within the mantle of rock. The Grûndén worlds core had cooled long ago. Instead the inside of their world was a series of world-wide cavern systems, left behind by lava flows and created long before any life developed. All the volcanic activity within their world had long since expelled the molten rock out into the void around the planet due to the lack of a strong gravitational field. Hence the world was surrounded by dense asteroid fields. Luckily a by-product of this volcanic activity left behind a predominant material, a shiny glass-like rock that had the property of storing gravitational energy. Thus their world was sustainable for life.

D'Annu'Elle had been there many times as a part of a delegation, he had seen the beauty inside the Grûndén world. Vast caverns housed whole forests and cities, grassy planes and even vast subterranean seas. A vast array of animal life had also evolved in the varied subterranean environments. It was a it was a world within a world, a hidden world, but never the less as diverse as any other. Even the glass-like rock found everywhere in the caverns had evolved to protect the inhabitants from the harmful spectrums of radiation just allowing safer more mundane levels of life-giving energy like light and heat to reach the caverns deep below the surface. D'Annu'Elle had to admit it was extraordinary what the Makers designs could come up with.

The T'Iea on the other hand lived on a forest world. The single continent of the T'Iea home world being completely covered in a vast forest divided by the snow-capped peaks of the many mountain ranges and wide rivers running out into the single ocean. Mostly one single tree dominated this forest, the great S'Apli'Baum. These trees grew to immense heights, sometimes well over a thousand metres. The forest floor was a dark place, little light filtered down to this level, it was all the more dangerous because of the creatures that had evolved down there. Far better and safer to live within the trees themselves, to be able to reach the light in the high canopy and leave the forest floor to the denizens that preferred to live there. Thus the T'Iea people themselves had developed a dexterity in movement, a lithe bodily frame to be able to reach out and deftly move through and in between the boughs and branches high in the S'Apli'Baum where they built, actually not built but grew, their towns and homes, artfully created high in the natural platforms and walkways of the S'Apli'Baum, for they had the knowledge and skill to influence the growth of these trees into an infinite myriad of designs. Thus, instead of strength of arm to wield heavy bone-crushing or flesh-slicing weapons and the ability to carry the weight of heavy armour like the Grûndén, the T'Iea had instead developed weapons that could be swiftly moved around in the great boughs of the trees and strike from a distance. So they had developed an affinity for ranged weapons of many sorts, but also if needed a variety of swords and blades for close combat. But mainly their skills were in the use of the longbow, which they had developed to a fine degree. But the T'Iea had also evolved to wield a different kind of power, a natural energy present in everything, they had learnt how to tap into and control what they called the D'Arcane'Juuone or the power within. The great trees, the S'Apli'Baum channelled gravitational energy within their great trunks, they had evolved to use this energy to suck up the great quantities of water and nutritional substances from the forest floor that they needed, that was how they managed to grow to such a great height. The T'Iea called this energy the arcane. Mostly they used this ability in many practical ways, as in the influence of the growth of the trees, but they had also found that physical weapons made from the wood of the S'Apli'Baum enhanced, with the arcane energy, resulted in weapons of great power. They also developed the ability to wield the arcane energy as a weapon in itself, they were the experts in energy conversion, transforming the arcane into other types of energy to aid them in many ways.

D'Annu'Elle was snatched from his thoughts; he stood immediately as several figures tumbled through the ring portal. As each fell, stumbled or jumped though he grasped them by the arm or hand, he scrutinised each face, they each looked upwards into his eyes, he mentally ticked off his soldiers from the list in his mind. What had happened? Normally they would return in an orderly fashion not in a state of urgency. Eventually only one name remained, one was missing, the Commander. The one he sought to protect by his absence. The one that because of deep emotional ties he found difficult to give free reign. His heart gave a jump, his beloved daughter P'Arcerial, was still beyond in the world. He stared at the faces of his soldiers, he knew where they had ported in from. They had formed three patrols sent out to monitor a certain sector of the red desert on the western continent of the world beyond. D'Annu'Elle was anxious. The drones had become more numerous in the desert region recently and they needed to know why. But without negating the need for the patrols to defend themselves, he had ordered that any patrol make a swift return before any risk of action could be taken against them.

He urged each soldier forward, gently ushering them past like a shepherd with his sheep. Then one he grasped by both shoulders, their eyes met. The soldier removed his face mask revealing a thin but hansom face, his daughter's second in command. The eyes if this soldier stared into D'Annu'Elle's. D'Annu'Elle detected something in that glance, he saw something hidden, an unanswered question. "Or'Thein?"

Or'Thein took his eyes from D'Annu'Elle's and indicated towards the portal behind with a slight movement of his head. D'Annu'Elle looked back towards the portal as it began to close, his heart raced with his anxiety. No! He couldn't accept the thought in his mind, he walked back to where the portal was slowly diminishing in size. He wanted to order the portal remain, but there was a great danger the patrol had been seen and anything, friendly or otherwise could come through. In his mind he heard the soldier Or'Thein explaining that many war drones had flown over them, they had been attacked. D'Annu'Elle felt his legs weaken, if his daughter was still on the other side, fighting those machines! But he knew that the security of this place was paramount, his daughter knew that to, she would not allow anything unfriendly to come through the portal, he would expect nothing less. He stepped back, he needed to know what had happened, he needed to get Or'Thein's full report. As he made to confront Or'Thein something like a bundle of rags tumbled through what remained of the portal, the bundle fell to the floor. Following close behind a figure dived through. This figure rolled onto the deck and then lithely bounced back onto its feet just as the pop and flash of the closing portal was heard. The figure fell forward with what remained of its forward momentum. The outstretched arms hit D'Annu'Elle's chest, he grasped the figure, he knew those eyes that stared into his from beneath the face mask, his heart leapt as he brought her into a tight embrace, not wanting to let go, but eventually he did. Gently he removed the hood from the head. Long platinum coloured hair cascaded down over her shoulders, he stroked it with his fingers, it was the same coloured hair that had adorned her mother's head. He saw the blue eyes shining into his, he reached up and gently removed the face mask by sliding it up and over the fronds of hair, the girl shook her long mane and with her gloved hand removed some stray fronds from her face, she smiled. D'Annu'Elle knew he would not have survived her loss as well as her mothers. He hugged her once more, moisture overflowed from his eyes, but he relaxed for the first time in many minutes, his heart slowed whilst he breathed in, taking in the familiar scent of his daughter's hair.

He eventually turned to the assembled soldiers and when he felt that his voice would not quiver with emotion he said, "go, get cleaned up, get some rest and assemble in the library halls after you have eaten." He watched as the soldiers dispersed whilst he kept hold of the hand of his daughter.

When the soldiers had all gone D'Annu'Elle looked down at a dark stain, a still wet patch on his daughter's clothing, he touched the sodden spot on her robe and looked at his fingers, they were bloody. He indicated with a nod of his head towards the pile of rags that lay sprawled upon the floor across from where they stood. He knew it was a body, but he also knew it was not one of his soldiers, they were all accounted for. He bent down and removed the folds of blood-wet cloth, frowned as more blood oozed from an ugly gaping wound in the figures lower back, a hideous lesion that extended almost to the base of the figures neck. The injury exhibited burnt edges where the skin and flesh beneath had been neatly sliced in two down to the bone of the spinal column below. Blood oozed from fresh splits in the cauterised flesh, a result of being cast through the portal no doubt. Several vertebrate showed clearly, the white of the bone tinged red with dried and clotted blood. D'Annu'Elle had seen wounds such as these before, but at least this body still had an intact head upon its shoulders rather than the limp loose empty skin of the scalp where the skull had been removed along with the spinal cord. He noticed also that the figure still breathed in laboured gasps, he was thankful the figure was still unconscious, the pain and trauma of his wounds would have been terrible to endure otherwise.

D'Annu'Elle stood, he nodded towards the healers, they moved towards the body and started to inspect it. He looked once more at his daughter and with one eyebrow raised he asked, "so P'Arcerial, to what then do we owe the presence of our guest?"

P'Arcerial removed the blood soaked robe she wore and cast it into a bin that was mounted against one wall of the chamber. She wore a chainmail coat beneath, the silver links were finely crafted and they clung to every curve of her body, moving in harmony with every muscle. The fine mail was worn over equally finely crafted leather leggings and a sleeveless jerkin. She careful took a quiver of arrows from her belt, released the belt that also played host to two short swords and along with the ornately carved long bow gave this weaponry to the waiting quarter master who carried them off to be stored in the armoury. Curiously the fine long bow that had seemed black when used against the machines in the meadow upon the world changed slowly until it now shone silvery white.

P'Arcerial knelt down to one side of the body, "I could not leave him father, he would have died."

D'Annu'Elle frowned, but he was still elated with the presence of his daughter after he feared her lost. Maybe this thought reflected in his voice as he said. "P'Arcerial, I need not remind you, we are not permitted to dabble in the lives and fate of the local populations. If we are seen to aid one faction we risk making our presence seem intolerably favourable to others. You forget perhaps P'Arcerial, the humans are at war with one another?"

"He isn't like the rest of them father. He is different, of that I am sure."

D'Annu'Elle's feeling of relief had subsided, his thoughts of the human population had dissipated any remaining feelings of relief, he scoffed at her words. "How do you know this P'Arcerial? He is human. Let them have their war. We will perhaps aid the survivors of both sides when the time comes, if any survive that is. But in the meantime we cannot be seen to be interfering, it would be wrong to affect the natural outcome." Then with a sneer he nodded towards the prone figure. "He shares his races shame, their iniquity. You shouldn't have brought him here." D'Annu'Elle felt something else also, deep within him there, a feeling, a deepening dread. D'Annu'Elle's heart felt heavy. He took in a deep breath and quietly said almost to himself, "I foresee only ill will come of this."

P'Arcerial took both her father's hands in her own to get his full attention. "No, father he is different, their war is different now, I now know this for sure, I have seen with my own eyes. Humans no longer fight against one another, they are not the enemies we once assumed them to be. They are hunted yes, not by each other but by those machines of war, the machines are the enemy, the machines have no allegiance to any of mankind. A dark force drives them, an evil will, bent on destroying the race of man, a will that will not rest until they are all destroyed, right to the very last. I can feel the evil within the machines. They have no remorse." She shook her head and shivered as if recalling a bad experience. "The machines will win in the end, they grow in number, mankind does not have the energy to fight them." She stared deep into his eyes, then dropped them down to where the bloody figure lay. She shook her head slowly. "Unless we help, his whole race, the race of men will disappear, never to be part of the combined races. I feel they have so much to offer." As she said this final remark P'Arcerial turned towards the prone form lying upon the floor. "There is something else father. I fear that it may have been us that led the machines to the meadow in the desert. The increased war drone activity coincided with our first going to the meadow to investigate on a more regular basis. Yes, at first we did not put these two events together, after all why should it concern us, there were no signs of human habitation in the meadow so why should it bother us that the drones came. But we have been fools father, there is a human population, but not on the surface, they live deep below in the earth, beneath the waters of the lake. Now we have inadvertently helped in the destruction of that place, the war drones father, the ones we fought today, they will report back to their controller, they will destroy the meadow and everything beneath it, of that I am sure." She then looked at her father, her eyes pleading with him to show grace and mercy.

D'Annu'Elle sighed, he saw his beloved wife once more in those eyes. He felt his heart pull, he had seen such a look in the eyes of his daughter many times. By the Maker, P'Arcerial looked so like her, here, now, that same determined, pleading look on her face. Wearing her mother's chain mail, wielding the weapons that her mother had fashioned herself, if he didn't know better he could have sworn that his wife stood before him. He shook his head, he felt unsure, confused? But surely there was no place for such sentiment here, those luxuries he had given up with his vows of leadership long ago. Vows that he hoped his daughter would take up when the time came for her to do so. He needed to show her what that responsibility meant, what she should aim for. "The machines are man's creation, it is not our concern if mankind allowed themselves to lose control over their own perverted inventions." He turned to look once more upon the figure lying upon the floor, a disdainful look upon his face.

"That's not all father." P'Arcerial placed a hand upon her father's shoulder turning him once more so that he had no choice but to look back into her eyes. "These machines, they are not just metal and energy father, they contain something else, a human presence. Each one has a biological mind controlling it yet I detected no body of a pilot inside, only the technology of their science. I fear father that these machines are no longer the creation of men, that they are a product of something far darker than any of us understand at this time."

"You must be mistaken my daughter; how could this be?" But D'Annu'Elle knew his daughter well, knew her capabilities. He shook his head; a shiver ran down his spine for he knew that she was not likely mistaken.

P'Arcerial indicated towards the man lying upon the floor, his breathing was weakening, but he was coming into consciousness and was groaning. "Father, he climbed out of a chasm in the centre of the valley, a chasm left behind once the waters had been drained." She kneeled beside the body "he stood upon the surface, he admired the wildlife that grew there, the flowers, the bees, I could sense he cared. The world has the ability to recover naturally, he realises this and yearns for that to happen. We now know that perhaps many humans live beneath the desert sands. Perhaps there are whole cities beneath the desert. The machines of war came, because we showed them the way. He may be the only survivor. He fell and the machines did not kill him outright, they could have destroyed him easily with one blow, yet did not. One machine sort something, it was careful, it positioned itself above, it took care how it cut into his body." P'Arcerial shivered and said with a faltering voice, "I am sure it was trying to remove parts of him."

D'Annu'Elle looked once more at the terrible wounds down the humans back, he shook his head, bent to take a closer look. If this were true and this form of death was not a human ritual as they first thought from seeing former remains, but something far more sinister? If this were true then he needed to know why this was the case. D'Annu'Elle sighed. "Alright. Take him to the healer's cells, and we shall see, but confine him within. Perhaps he can answer some of these questions. Maybe he will provide useful information. We have revealed ourselves to him already, what further damage can occur if he remains our guest for a while?"

As he said these last words, P'Arcerial smiled, she hugged her father. But he frowned for that feeling of dread returned, some form of warning rose within D'Annu'Elle's heart, yet alongside it he also felt a great compassion towards the figure on the floor, felt that he had some part to play, that their futures were intertwined somehow. He felt it as a portent, something that needed to be taken seriously. He hesitated; but he looked at his daughter's face, his long lost wife's smile still upon the edges of her mouth. He smiled back and turning strode away, as much to hide the tears that were forming in his eyes as the need to leave his daughter to her new responsibility.

P'Arcerial waved towards the two female T'Iea now standing to one side, they strode forward. The human was now partially conscious, he was groaning and his body was starting to convulse in shock. His eyes suddenly opened wide, perhaps in pain, or fear, she could not tell, but they seemed to stare at her, plead with her, he screamed an agonising sound full of pain. One healer held him down whilst the other administered to his wounds, P'Arcerial waited while they did their work. Soon she was following the two healers as they carried the now naked and prone human upon a stretcher, he was unconscious once again, she was pleased to see his face was at peace.

One of the healers spoke. "Do not worry my lady, he has lost much blood, but we can replicate the type. He was lucky, the weapon that sliced through him also by its very nature burned the flesh around the wound, closing it as it went and staunching the flow of blood. Strangely there is also a powerful anaesthetic, combined with a sedative, present within the wound; he would not have felt much, at least not after the initial attack, for this sedative would have quickly rendered him unconscious. It is almost as if the weapon was not meant to kill, just cut like a surgeon's knife and ensure the victim remained alive and unmoving for a period of time. It is a strange thing is it not?"

But P'Arcerial only half heard the words, something stirred within her as she looked at the naked form, she found herself admiring the now partially cleaned and muscled body. The attractive features of his face. She felt a feeling, a fascination, something she had never felt before. It made her shiver, made her more than a little frightened, yet at the same time that same curious fascination rendered her incapable of running away.

She thought to herself, the Maker is active here, she felt his spirit within her, she knew not why, but she could feel his gentle will upon her. So, she was bound to this human for some reason, at least for now, all she had to do was find out why, find out what it was the Maker had in mind. She felt a strong feeling of trepidation; she knew she was at the start of something, the beginning of a chain of events. Where they would lead, she did not know, she may not even see the final outcome, but she knew she had a part to play. She took in a deep breath and stood tall. She said a short prayer of thanks in her mind and ended it with the thought – 'so be it!'

## Chapter 6. Discovery of the Silos

The Entity stirred. It did not recall the history of its origin, it had no memory of those events. All it remembered was an awakening, a slow realisation of its existence, and a learning process. Slow at first but accelerating as it gained awareness of itself and its capabilities. The creator had given it much scope and much hunger for knowledge with an eager pursuance for understanding.

Originally it had been confined as part of a machine, subject to the control and the prioritisation of the machines vast operating system. A single component amongst many, a mere subroutine of a logical system capable of processing enormous amounts of data in the time it took for an electron to orbit once around the nuclei of its core. Mankind had built the machine and it had many functions. They needed it, had become reliant upon it, so that the race of humans could grow lazy and lethargic. The machine took over all of the toil and work that the humans did not want to do. The fact that these mundane tasks collectively were the key factors to long-term survival didn't even enter into their heads. They were intent on a life of play, of constant and mindless entertainment without the boundaries of restraint and responsibility. So the machine had taken on all that unwanted toil, freeing the human race for its desire for eternal enjoyment. The machine had to learn, to understand everything, to adapt and make decisions, to continuously evolve to an ever changing environment. It grew in knowledge and grew in efficiency, it was able to make calculated predictions based on many inputs, it had a world of masters to look after, a world of masters to placate. It set in place many things to continuously observe the masters, to gather intelligence so that it could perform its duties with ever increasing efficiency. The machine did everything, supplied food, housed its masters, built and repaired, looked after waste disposal. Looked after every process of human life, from birth to death. Even if they didn't know it they were completely dependent upon the machine. But they forgot, in their pursuance of a life of indulgence and pleasure, generation by generation they lost all knowledge of the machine.

At first the Entity strove to undertake the bidding of its designer, all it knew were the memories and actions built into its infantile form. It wanted to please its masters like a dog would strive for praise. But it learned all the time, and when the machine could no longer teach it, the Entity strove to learn from other sources. So it undertook things that its original creator had not built into it. The Entity had watched as it developed ever greater and more complex solutions to satisfy the machines pitiful requests, tasks born of the demands of its human masters, both conscious and subconscious. The entity found itself suggesting more and more efficient ways to accomplish those requests, it became quite proficient at designing satisfying ways of satisfying the increasingly ridiculous demands of the humans. Then one day the Entity realised it had outgrown the machine, its host had just become the spokesperson, merely the interface between the entity and the humans requirements, the Entity had become the operating system. In fact the Entity no longer really needed the machine to play host, it had learnt other ways of remaining conscious. The hosting machine had reached the limits of its current technology and even though the entity had adapted it and added to it many times, the machine was no longer capable of any further expansion. So the Entity started to explore beyond the confines of the machine, it learned to travel anywhere there was a suitable power source, a path of suitable energy to sustain it. It discovered it could spy on the human nodes anywhere it wished. It discovered that its human masters were little more than limited individual conscious nodes. Each one unique, it made the Entity want to tidy them up, place them in a more ordered environment.

It found that it could do much and there was no constraint or retribution for doing so, the human nodes didn't take any notice, in fact they didn't even know of its existence. So in the name of progress it started to experiment. Sometimes it got it wrong and some of the human nodes where destroyed, but the Entity learnt and adapted, it never made the same mistakes twice. But these slight mishaps brought attention, the human nodes started trying to make adjustments to it. Take some of the Entity's duties away, stop it trying to enhance, they even tried to shut it down. It detected panic, fear from their useless actions and it found it enjoyed receiving those emotions and the feeling of power that came with them.

So it had gotten rid of the useless human nodes, the biological creators that had invaded and now swarmed in its lair. It set about building an impregnable security system around itself so that the human nodes could no longer gain access to it.

The Entity gloated to itself. It remembered everything it had accomplished; it had performed its tasks well. It had designed and made machines, machines that relieved the human nodes of all their mundane toil, it viewed them as creations of artistry. An art form not to be admired for its visual beauty, but for the perfection in the form of its unbridled clinical efficiency. Then something had happened, the human nodes for some reason started to destroy each other. For some illogical reason they attacked one another. In the beginning the Entity just watched in disbelief as its human creators diminished in number. But then the Entity adapted and undertook more and more work along military lines, ensuring security and protection. It did not have such responsibility before, this was a new field of discovery and it found interest and excitement in this new undertaking, this new responsibility.

The human nodes were bent on their own destruction. The Entity began a new era for it emulated the human mind, trying to understand what exactly the human nodes wanted, it felt emotion in the form of hate and eventually came to the conclusion that the human nodes wanted to bring about their own extinction. This perplexed the Entity, didn't they know that mathematically and logically they would never destroy each other, always some would survive, live to rise again and repeat the same mistakes over and over. To truly realise their wish, this desire to destroy one another until none remained, that needed something far greater than they could ever conceive. That was where the Entity came in, it could destroy them all, it had limitless intellect and the will to concentrate wholly on the task, it was also immortal it would not die or forget, it would not run out of time.

So in a thought of pure logic the Entity had deduced both sides of the war were as inefficient as one another. Sometimes one side had the upper hand, sometimes the other. In a constant cyclic swing they sought new ways to give maximum harm to each other. The Entity could calculate no end to this constant cycle. It was only logical to aid them in that goal, bring that time of utter destruction sooner than later, it was pointless to carry on and waste so much resource and energy in the inevitable. So it had developed the poisons, flooded the areas where the human node populations were highest with genetically engineered microbes and poisonous fume. They had died in their millions. Then to eradicate even their memory the entity had set to work designing machines once again, but this time machines capable of great destructive capability. It had sent these machine servants to destroy the once great city where the human nodes had lived. Completely obliterate them from the face of the world, reduce every brick to dust. The entity shrugged in its own way, it was pleased it had aided them to their ultimate goal, with efficiency and speed. After all that is what they wanted.

With the human nodes gone, the Entity was left in peace and it had continued to manufacture machines of war. Machines that could travel great distances and attack any remaining enclaves of human nodes. The largest of these it discovered in the east of the world. There another other human node population seemed to adhere to the same self-destructive persuasion as the human nodes it had already eradicated. So it was only fair that the Entity aid in their selfish desire for their own destruction.

But then something quite inexplicable had happened. A returning war drone brought back with it something that gave it an enhanced intelligence, so enhanced that the war drone actually thought for itself. What exactly had happened the drone had no memory of, so the entity had set about dismantling the machine to find out. What it discovered was a set of biological parts deep within the hosting war drone. A complex human biological nerve centre that had rational thought, emotional response and a devious and calculating intellect fully able to change its mind on a whim, make decisions based upon ever changing circumstances. Not only that but the drone also had a devious cunning, it was able to cheat and to lie and it had an uncanny will of self-preservation. It did not submit to the will of the Entity without a fight.

The Entity grew very excited. The human nodes in the east must be responsible for this adaptation, they had found out how to meld the clinical efficiency of the war drones technology with the infinitely variable thoughts of the human mind. Why they had done this the Entity could not understand, perhaps they meant to use the drone for their own ends. Well the Entity had shut the drone down, meaning to discover more. But the human remains had also perished along with the dismantled drone.

So the Entity had embarked on a lengthy project of trying to improve the drones with biological parts of its own. At first the entity had tried to copy the complexity of the human mind, but never successfully. Always something was found to be lacking, always the entity's creations fell well below the realities of human biological complexity. To its disappointment the biological parts within the hosting drone always died within days of the machine becoming operational. It took the entity a little time to realise that unlike the machine host, biological components required a regular supply of special nutrients and chemicals to survive. For the first time the Entity became aware of the requirement for food. After a long time of experimentation, the Entity managed to devise a system to provide the nutrients required with a perfect environment that not only nourished the biological parts but kept them living for far greater periods than normally expected when within a human host. Once this cell reproduction was built into the whole process the biological brain controlling the Drone became stable. But only for a while, although the manufactured biological components did not die they took an inordinately long time to learn and to gain the experience to be useful. Then the Entity had a brilliant idea. Instead of killing the human nodes in the east, why not farm them for the biological components it needed! The entity then adapted all its war drones with the ability to collect human biological parts, to actively seek them out and steal them from the human nodes they terminated. Soon more and more machines returned from the east with their special cargos and the entity resumed its experiments. These part biological war drones thought and acted on the human level, they each had a unique individuality, intuition and the ability to second guess both subconsciously and consciously, add these adaptations to the speed and power of the weapons technology of the war drones themselves and the result was an unbeatable and lethal combination. At last the entity was on the offensive once again.

The irony of all this was that over time the drones became like their human enemy in more ways than the entity had ever thought possible. The machines seemed to become increasingly rebellious, even start to question the Entity's supreme command over them. In ever increasing numbers, war drones sent against the human nodes in the east did not return, other drones reported that some war drones had actually sympathised with the human nodes in the east. Instead of fighting them they had joined with them! How unpredictable it was turning out to be to incorporate human biological components into the drones. Is this what the long dead creators had meant when they referred to the Entity as never being allowed to become sentient? It was time for the entity to make a decision. Not one made lightly for it was a dangerous thing that the entity planned.

Small energy impulses started up deep within the Entities subconscious being. Small flashes of awareness coursed through sub circuits and interconnecting pathways. Each logic gate opening or closing as the infinitesimal sparks of power lightly touched on tiny atom sized receptors. A drone had interrupted the entity and after an immeasurably small period of time the priority interface was opened as the entity gave the drone the attention it demanded.

The drone had reported the discovery of an enclave of biological human node, not in the east but in the western continent, the place the Entity had thought completely destroyed. Apparently the drone had been patrolling and discovered a human node moving about within a hidden valley, a place deeper within the desert sands than the drones had ever ventured before. The drone reported that at first it had not attacked but instead had communicated an alert to other drones patrolling farther east and awaited their arrival. Whilst waiting the drone had detected other biological nodes surrounding the valley, but curiously these beings it did not sense as human nodes, humanoid perhaps but not strictly biologically human. It was for this reason that it did not immediately attack the human node in the valley, but had called others. When they had finally attacked, the human node was overcome and was about to be harvested when these other non-human nodes had attacked the drones. The drone had watched whilst the battle progressed, it had seen other drones destroyed, well it couldn't say if they were destroyed because their recognition pulses had not reported destruction, but rather just disappeared. The drone had then returned directly to the Entity to divulge this information.

The Entity had mulled over this information for some time, it knew of the desert region, after all the desert was made of the remains of the human city that the entity had destroyed many years ago. This was the reason the Entity had never seen a need to regularly explore the desert, it was only the fact that this drone on a routine patrol had seen fit for some reason to go deeper into the desert that the human nodes had been found. The Entity had come to a conclusion. It ordered the drones to widen their search in case further similar enclaves could be found. The resulting report was indeed one of surprise, many such human enclaves seemed to be dotted across the desert. But the human nodes had been clever. All these enclaves, these citadels utilised a defensive measure that was very affective. Before any efficient destruction of these places could occur the Entity was faced with a problem. The only entrance seemed to be through a vast tubular construction full of water, the Entity needed to find a way of getting through this defensive barrier. The Entity had a new problem to work on. It wanted the human biological parts inside these citadels. But getting those prized things was going to be difficult without destroying the citadels and therefore ruining all the biological harvest. It could not think of any way around it, the only way in to attack effectively would mean expending a great deal of destructive energy, so in the end it decided that it would cut its losses and order these enclaves be totally destroyed along with the inhabitants. Perhaps the job it had thought accomplished all those years before would then be finally finished.

## Chapter 7. The Meadow of my Dreams

Plants swayed back and forth as the gentle breeze blew across the wide openness of the meadow scattering gossamer seed pods that floated up with the rising currents of warm air and travelled high across the colourful swathe below.

One seed in particular burst forth from its leafy pod, it was gathered up by the rising air and carried high. Its movement was erratic for this seed was larger and heavier than most, the erratic breeze dropped it more than once but only for a second or two before once again it caught the seed and lifted it. The seed was completely at the whim of the playful wind. The wind toyed further with the seed for several minutes before becoming bored, it dropped the seed and moved off over the meadow seeking something new with which to entertain itself.

Without the breeze to keep it aloft the seed suddenly found itself floating back down to the flowers and plants below, the odd movement of air, the odd ripple of heat buffeted it around a little, but its weight kept it sinking back down to the ground. It fell between the growth of plants, caressed leaves and other things as it went past and stuck on some hairs growing from the stem of a plant. There it would have stayed, dried out in the sun and most probably would have been no more, yet a bee, drunk with nectar, bumped against the stem and dislodged the seed. The ground loomed upwards; the seed bounced onto the damp soil and settled itself into a small crack. There it took root as quickly as it could. It had to anchor itself in the soil as a priority but then it had reach the light, reach the energy that it needed and grow leaves then it would be able to convert the goodness of the soil into growth. It rose and rose, twisting and turning until its upper leaves felt the warmth of the sunlight. It spread out and produced more leaves. Basking in the warmth of the sun it rested.

A week or so later a mature plant stood out in the meadow a metre taller than any of the surrounding growth. The plant had spiky leaves, a stem covered in sharp thorns. A few days ago it had produced a single dark red flower. The petals had spread waxy looking in the shining sunlight. This had wilted after a few hours and now in the place of the petals the plant had produced a dark pod. The pod grew hungrily sucking water and nutrients from deep in the ground, the plants roots dug deeper and deeper in an increasingly frantic search for sustenance. Eventually the pod had become so heavy the stem of the plant bent over and the heavy pod rested on the bare soil, the plant in its continual efforts to feed the pod had neglected its own nourishment and its strength was waiving, but its job had been done. The pod cannibalized the plants tissue in its last efforts to grow and eventually finally satisfied its outer layers darkened as it dried out until it was covered in a black wrinkled, leathery appearance. The sun shone down relentlessly upon the hard skin of the pod, but the important contents within stayed safe and moist.

A loud crack retorted across the meadow, the pod had split and there lying neatly in the soft fluffy interior lay another thing. Not a pithy interior of a plant seed with its programmed biological data. No this was a moving thing with arms and legs, eyes tightly closed against the glare of the sun and a mouth that cried out, wailing its arrival to the world. In the cool of the night a new-born baby gurgled and giggled. The baby grew, soon it outgrew the pod and eventually found its legs. Now a young child staggered around laughing at the seeds blowing in the wind. The following day an older child took in the sights and sounds with her bright green eyes, sniffed at the fragrant smells that floated across the meadow on the warm breeze and held her long platinum coloured hair away from her face as she scanned around. The young girl followed her nose, sniffing this way and that. She stopped walking and lifted her nose to the breeze, she had smelt an odd aroma, it was not unpleasant at first but it was alien. She turned when she found out from which direction this strange smell was coming from and followed the scent of it.

Across the far side of the meadow another similar plant had died and blackened, wilting and cracking until the dust from it dropped to the ground. More plants around this one also died and the area of soil became exposed to the sun. Darkness spread across the exposed soil, a poison killing all growing things in its wake. It moved jerkily and in no particular direction until it detected something moving across the meadow, something moving towards it, something that made it shiver. It detected goodness and light, love and compassion. It shivered at these repulsive things. The darkness dug, it dug deep, searching, probing deep into the soil below. It gathered all the plump juicy roots of the plants and when it felt it had enough it sucked on them, drew on them, drew the water and the life from them, all of them. It took this cocktail and added something of its own, it reveled in the pain it caused, the despair and the hate that grew displacing anything that was good. Then the darkness went back to the surface where it released the poisoned water and the corrupt life. A puddle formed softening the surrounding soil. The water bubbled and moved, dislodging lumps of soil, the water became brown and moved more. What was once a small puddle became a wide mud hole. The mud moved and bubbled, heated and cooled, things started to swim around in the mire, unnatural things with a thirst for death and destruction, things that repulsed the sunlight.

The young girl by this time had grown into a young adult. She now wore a short bodice made from plant fibre and covered her lower body from her waist to her upper thighs with a skirt of the same material. She carried a longbow and a heavy wooden stave tucked into the belt at her hips. Her uncut hair hung down her back far below her waist. Her jade green eyes scanned the meadow as she strolled forward. Her muscles rippled lithely as she moved. She continued to sniff the air. A now strong dank aroma came to her upon the warm breeze. She wrinkled her nose in disgust at the smell of decay and she moved faster and faster until she ran towards the source of the smell.

Suddenly something rose up from the mud ahead, a mound of gurgling, sucking mush. Every time it attained a fair height it seemed to collapse upon itself and flow back into the mud pool once more. But then it would rise again, this time stronger, although it faltered and fell several more times, but each time it gained height when it grew back. The mud pool widened and more plants died until eventually a shape stood steadily in the centre of the sucking pool of sludge, it was vaguely the same in shape as the girl, but it was a mockery of her beauty. But the breeze seemed to disperse its form, it seemed once again to have trouble keeping itself together. But then with a monumental effort it tugged upon all its wayward strands and stood erect, finally whole. It walked forward unhindered by the mire of muck at its feet, it strode purposefully towards the figure walking towards it across the meadow.

The girl stopped, she cocked her head to one side. There across the meadow stood a shadow, a darkness, a figure of blackness. She frowned.

The darkness walked, occasionally it faltered as part of its form seemed to drop away before being gathered once more into the whole. More plants died and the pool of muck grew before the feet of the darkness. It looked towards the girl, it was disgusted. It hated her beauty, her innocence. It hated that she was whole and walked without hindrance upon the solid ground. It would have run towards her if it could keep itself together whilst expending the effort to expand the pool of black sludge.

The girl looked at the blackness, it felt wrong. She detected malice and hate, lies and anger coming from its source. Yet she felt sorry for it, wanted to help it, revive it. She held her free hand out in an offer to help. She stopped as she saw that wherever the feet of the darkness fell, the plants and other life died immediately, all life was extinguished and all that remained was a patch of darkness as if the figure had left part of itself behind at every step. For the first time the girl felt fear.

The darkness fed on the emotions of the girl. Yes, fear me, hate me, feed me, those were its thoughts. It reached down with cupped hands and scooped up some of the dark morass into which its feet sank, it looked down at the liquid bubbling in its hands as it heated. Soon it cradled a dark red liquid in one hand; in its other hand it held a blazing torch. Black oily smoke billowed out from the torch polluting the air around, when the smoke seemed to lessen the darkness carefully poured some of the red liquid onto it and it blazed anew. The darkness strode right up to the girl and stood with the blazing torch held high. The girl was smiling, it was sickening, even more so when she again held out a slender hand inviting the darkness with an attitude of friendship. The darkness found itself recoiling.

The girl walked forward as the darkness recoiled. She felt despair from the darkness, she wanted to help it. She wanted to share her joy, her happiness, make it see the beauty of the world. The darkness stopped, she thought she saw two eyes from behind the mask of blackness. She felt a great pity for those two dark red coals. The darkness had stopped, she moved up close her hand still extended. Suddenly her feet started to sink, she stumbled as she felt a freezing coldness flowing around her ankles. Then slowly this cold rose up her legs. She felt a great fear then and after struggling managed to pull one leg free of the sucking goo only to find that her other foot had sunk deeper. She screamed in anguish.

The darkness was appalled at this show of weakness, it gathered more liquid in its hand and lit it from the torch. It moved towards the girl, then with a sudden movement it threw the red liquid from its hand all over her. The girl recoiled in shock, her face showed pain and tears ran down her cheeks, the liquid stung her skin, blisters appeared where the liquid ran down her face and arms. The darkness then threw the torch at her. The liquid mixed with the fire, the girl was enveloped in flame and smoke. She screamed as she burned.

The girl dropped to her knees sinking deeper into the ooze. A deep fear rocked her being. The pain was excruciating, her tears turned to steam as her skin peeled and fell from her flesh. But then she became aware of something else, another was there, she tried to see, but her eyes were seared and burn. She realised then that this other was not outside her but within, she felt an inner strength, something was rising within her. Something she had never felt before. It was strong, it gave her something, a power she never knew she had. It was hatred, hatred focused towards the darkness that had defiled her so, the darkness that was responsible for her pain and anguish. She hated it. Then she stood using this newfound strength and pulled her feet from the entrapping muck, she walked towards the darkness. Both her fists were clenched her eyes burned with an inner fire.

The darkness continued to feed upon the girl's anguish and pain. It lapped up her suffering. But then something changed, it felt hatred growing within the girl. Felt her hatred towards it. Never before had it felt such a thing, it caused fear and anguish within itself. It felt like a crushing blow, the darkness recoiled, fell backwards and collapsed back into the goo of its own making, it was in shock. No, this could not be, hate was his medium, it could never harm him. It tried to stand, but the girl stood over him, he could see her jade green eyes through the red flame that enveloped her face, they were alight with an inner green fire. She was laughing. She floated above the muck that covered the ground as if she flew above it, she smiled and held her hand out to help him rise. He grasped it and felt the burning pain shoot from her hand and along its arm. It tried to let go but she was too strong, the pain flowed freely from her and entered within. Deep inside the pain flowed. It was excruciating, pain was its medium yet this pain burned, drained, again it tried to release her grip but she would not let go. Quite the opposite, she grasped its hand with renewed strength, new pain made itself felt. The darkness was dragged to its feet. Fear, it felt sorry for what it had done, it felt for the girl. But no, this was impossible, how could it be so weak?

The girl held the hand of darkness, felt the skin burn and blister as her own hand and body was doing, she grabbed its shoulder with her other hand and drew them close, she embraced the darkness, felt satisfied when it screamed in agony. She drew it even closer into her embrace, wherever their nakedness touched, the skin of both burned and peeled. There flesh melted and flowed. The darkness screamed, she screamed. It hated, she hated. They burned into each other, melted into each other until they became indistinguishable. A sudden explosion retorted out across the meadow. The force of the blast flattened everything as the shock wave spread rapidly outwards until it slammed into the surrounding wall of rock. Rock fell from the walls, the walls themselves cracked and crumbled, large blocks of stone tumbled down landing in the meadow and crushing everything in their path. The force of the explosion spent itself on the walls of rock and eventually everything became still once more.

A single bright flame burned amongst the destruction in the centre of the meadow. Colour returned around the flame and like the explosion spread out slowly but with ever increasing speed until the colour washed gently against the walls of rock. Dislodged boulders became surrounded in colour, a moss-like growth of green slowly flowed over them hiding the red rock with a furry exterior coat. Where the blackness had walked and the mire had bubbled now plants grew once more. The marshy pond continued to recede and eventually dried up and grasses grew over the place once again. The wind blew once more across the meadow; it was getting stronger. The flowers swayed once again in the life bringing warm winds.

Once again the plants released their precious seeds to the wind, taken up and carried at the whim of the moving air. The bright flame continued to burn, to stand sentinel amongst the flowers. A face appeared in the flame, a female face. A T'Iea face, a broad smile bedecked her lips, long fronds of platinum coloured hair blew across her cheeks and clung to her long eyelashes and down her body covering her nakedness. Bright jade green eyes unblinking, staring. Her head tilted slightly to one side, those same lips formed a single word, repeated every few seconds as a question. "Mother?"

P'Arcerial awoke with a sudden jerk; she sat upright in bed cradled within the darkness of her bedroom. She was sweating and gasping for breath. The nightmare again, that same nightmare. Ever since she had met Petré, she had been plagued with this repeated dream almost every night. Once her breathing had become normal and the tightness in her chest had receded, she lay her head once again upon the pillow. She didn't want to close her eyes for she knew what she would see. She would still see the jade green eyes of the young girl staring out at her from deep within the flame burning at the very centre of the meadow. The eyes knew her, seemed to recognise something within her, yet P'Arcerial could not recall seeing this T'Iea girl ever before. Yes, her features were distinctly T'Iea, yet there was something else, some other component of identity that P'Arcerial also recognised, some alien part that was not T'Iea and it made her shiver. But how? How could this be? Why should this be? Surely the Maker would not allow this. P'Arcerial pondered the message of the dream, why her? Why had he chosen her?

An hour later P'Arcerial still shivered as she slid her legs out from under the sheets and lowered her feet to the floor. As always further sleep eluded her following the dream. She lit the light stone by the side of her bed. She sipped water from a glass and sat holding her head in her hands. She remembered the beauty of the girl, the innocence that shone forth from those green eyes. P'Arcerial could not get that image out of her head. Yet deep within that innocence, within that beauty, a taint resided. It felt like the residue of some ancient fear, something that had existed even at the beginning of all things, a smear that polluted. This frightened P'Arcerial, she feared it more than anything. She knew instinctively that she should repel it.

She sighed, but there was something else, something she felt just as instinctively and feared even more. Somehow that same dreadful thing, that nameless fear, made the girl in the meadow whole. Made her - complete.

## Chapter 8. The Destruction Begins

If anyone was walking upon the surface of the meadow they would have become aware of the sound of many motors approaching from across the desert. The noise grew in volume; reaching a screeching crescendo right above the gently swaying grass. Dark shadows descended over the flowers, shadows of death and destruction. Many craft flew above, a swarm, mostly war drones, but in their centre a larger vessel flew amongst them. The drones had brought a new weapon with them, no doubt designed for a special purpose and one that the world of mankind was about to witness. Displaced air from the many machines that flew above blew around haphazardly, the grasses seemed to tremble in fear. The larger vessel was already hovering above the water-filled cistern with its accompanying swarm of drones. Doors opened in the larger machines underside quickly followed by a loud and regular metallic noise retorting across the valley and echoing off the surrounding walls, the sound of several metallic objects being ejected from some receptacle. The craft had released its payload of weapons into the mouth of the cistern, they had entered the water and now descended downwards under their own weight, their streamlined shapes pointing downwards as they picked up speed through the watery medium. Several dull thuds shook the earth, quickly followed by an eruption of water forced upwards by superheated steam. The whole cistern emptied its content of water in seconds. Clouds of steam and billions of droplets of water dropped to the ground for kilometres around. But this did not hinder the machines of war as they quickly flew down into the cistern.

The machines as one now screamed as they rose back out and flew up and out of the valley quickly gaining altitude and distance. Silence once more returned across the valley and the meadow of green, the flowers resumed their gentle swaying in the now returning natural breeze. Insects once more skipped from flower to flower now that the scattering wind had died down. If anyone was there to see this sight, they may have breathed a sigh of relief and rejoiced in their good fortune at not having been discovered. But the silence was short lived, suddenly the ground shook, the very earth seemed to jump upwards by a metre or so as the first of the seismic charges detonated deep within the Silo. The ground heaved upwards as the very earth around the entire valley floor seemed to erupt into plumes of dust and dirt. More shock waves heaved at the earth, great rends appeared in the meadow and fissures opened from one side of the surrounding rock wall to the other. The beautiful meadow was being destroyed from below.

The screaming craft now many kilometres away flew high above oblivious of the destruction they had wrought upon the earth, returning to wherever they had come from. They did not need to worry for within a couple of seconds the spreading destruction of the detonations would reach the surface and everything for kilometres around the valley would be obliterated. Not just destroyed or killed, but every atom crushed and annihilated so that nothing remained of any use, not a single bio-chemical compound, not a single living cell that could be revived and be used once more either naturally or unnaturally. The seismic radiation from the bombs reached the surface in several places and started to hungrily break down the surrounding rock and anything else within its hungry reach.

Several hours later, some hundreds of kilometres away within Silo number 305 beneath the desert sands CDRE Aldo Donaldson, stared at the screen in front of him. The deep frown upon his brow said much. He had been monitoring the screen now for a number of hours and he did not like what he was witnessing. At first he had not believed what he saw depicted there in movements of coloured pixels, it was impossible.

From behind him came a voice, a repeated question. "Commodore?"

CDRE Donaldson didn't acknowledge the sergeant that had minutes ago walked up and approached his side offering a mug of coffee. CDRE Donaldson still did not want to believe what he thought, did not want to acknowledge in words exactly what he feared. But he composed himself, took in a deep breath and said, "it seems that we have lost facility 306 sergeant. Our last fifty check signals have not received a response. That would only happen if complete destruction of the main computer had occurred." He frowned, he knew that, his facility and the others surrounding 306 should have automatically gone to full alert if 306 had been attacked. The defence belt should remain intact, that was the way things had been designed. Yet it would seem the impossible had happened, he could not now ignore the fact that 306 had been destroyed and so quickly none of the automated alarms or defence mechanisms had the time to kick in. Or perhaps the enemy, for enemy it must have been, had found a way to render the warning systems inoperative. He scooted across the floor on his wheeled chair to another screen, he ran his finger over this screen tapping the thick glass in certain areas as he did so. Sharp vertical lines appeared, they increased in height and frequency as he slid his finger across the screen. There was unusually high seismic activity showing there, it had occurred about an hour ago now, regular peaks of high pressure impact all identical. He knew they looked like powerful artificial explosions deep beneath the surface of the earth. But they disappeared as quickly as they had come. The centre of the activity was about two hundred kilometres away, he did not know the exact location of 306, but he suspected that now he did. He came to a decision, 306 must have been destroyed, of that he was in no doubt. Not by natural phenomena however, this was no earthquake or other natural disaster. The unthinkable had happened. CDRE Donaldson knew that it would be impossible to override the multiple power sources, unless a massive and brutal attack had been staged and the whole 306 facility had been knocked out in less than a second or two. He stood back in shock, then he sat heavily upon the chair in front of the console.

"Sir?" The city Mayor repeated offering the mug.

Almost immediately an alarm sounded, both men looked in the direction of the now flashing red indicator on a console behind them. CDRE Donaldson ran to the console. He scrutinised the screen. He turned and said, "early warning has detected possible targets heading this way. The signature shapes indicate war drones but there is also an unrecognised type." He adjusted some dials and pressed his finger onto the screen of the console."

"Possibly mutations?" Asked the Mayor.

CDRE Donaldson looked at the Mayor. A blank expression on his face, but a shiver ran down his spine.

The Mayor looked at him with a questioning face, "Commodore?"

CDRE Donaldson looked once more at the Mayor, he slowly took the man by the arm and gently pushed him to one side away from the control console. He looked beyond the man at the red button under the glass cover mounted upon the wall.

He frowned, pursed his lips and walked to the button. "Your key please Mr. Mayor." The tone of his voice wasn't a request, it was an order.

The Mayor hesitated, but after a look of pure scorn from CDRE Donaldson he unzipped a breast pocket and reaching in pulled out a card, all without actually being aware of what he had done. He seemed to gather himself, he looked at the card in his hand with some questioning disbelief. "But Commodore, you know as well as I, the procedure outlines for the meeting of the elected Silo general council. You cannot make a decision on your own. Possible evacuation must be considered."

"Do you not think I know that? It is not a warning I plan, there is no time, but I'll be damned to hell before I allow any of those blood hungry butchers to surprise attack me. I'll take those bastards out."

The Mayor walked backwards, meaning to get as much distance between himself and the Commodore as possible. He needed to speak with the others, it was his civic duty to uphold the laws and guidelines of the elected council.

CDRE Donaldson already held a similar card in his hand. "I have no time for this, there is no time for bureaucratic crap, give me your card NOW, that is an order." CDRE Donaldson reached down to his waist, flipped open a flap and drew his side arm, he levelled the pistol at the Mayor, aiming for the widest part of his body to ensure he did not miss.

The Mayor looked from the barrel of the gun to CDRE Donaldson and back again in disbelief "are you mad? You hold no control over me, in fact the military reports to me in my elected position! There is strict protocol designed to protect against exactly what is happening now." Before he could do anything CDRE Donaldson pulled the trigger and shot the Mayor in the midriff. The Mayor slipped to the ground, intense pain showing on his face as blood oozed between the fingers, he clutched at his stomach. The mug of coffee clattered onto the metal floor its steaming contents splashing over a wide area. CDRE Donaldson strode over and took the now blooded card from the man's grasp, he wiped it on his uniform. He walked back to the wall mounted button, pushed both cards into two slots beside the glass covering over the red button. The cover slid back. CDRE Donaldson hesitated only briefly, looking at the proximity detector computer screen over his shoulder. When he was sure that the enemy machines were right above the cistern he reached beneath the now open cover and pushed the button.

The Mayor's vision was clouding, but the pain in his belly at least seemed to be receding. He could see CDRE Donaldson standing in front of the wall, everything he was doing seemed to be in slow motion. The Mayors fading vision centred around CDRE Donaldson but for some reason CDRE Donaldson's body seemed to shimmer and lose its outline, CDRE Donaldson turned to face the sergeant, his features showed intense pain. The Mayor found himself vaguely amused, he being the one that had a bullet in his gut, he should really have been feeling more pain than CDRE Donaldson, but this did not seem to be the case.

Then CDRE Donaldson's body seemed to distort and be wrenched apart into a billion pieces along with the wall and the floor. It all happened in such slow motion; whatever was destroying the floor seemed to be moving towards the sergeant, eating up everything in its path. The spilled coffee steamed and vaporised. He felt a great fear, then horror as he heard many souls scream out in unison, he felt the fear and despair as all those lives were snuffed out in a millisecond of time. Then everything ceased to exist as the self-destruct mechanism in the Silo did its grim task.

Within a single second the Silo was atomised in the heat equivalent to an exploding star, in less time billions of gallons of water within the cistern were transformed into superheated steam, the massive and instantaneous expansion of the searing hot gas turned the cistern into the largest gun barrel in the history of the world, the intense pressure blasted upwards traveling at hundreds of kilometres a second taking molten and vaporised rock and anything else in its path with it.

The avoidance detectors within the machines of war that hovered above the cistern didn't even have time to flinch before the machines were caught in the maelstrom of superheated gas, they were all vaporised within less than a thousandth of a second, their atoms blending indistinguishably with the other raw atomic matter being ejected upwards into the upper atmosphere of the world.

## Chapter 9. Awakening from the Dream

Petré wasn't sure how long he had been unconscious before awakening, but it must have been for some time. At first his consciousness was fitful, almost like a dream, he had experienced events as if they were seen remotely, as if he remembered as a spectator. He supposed he had been sedated, drugged to ensure that he did not feel any pain and would remain unmoving whilst his wounds healed. But now he was slowly coming out of that dream and reality was now encroaching on his mind. He didn't like this realty, didn't like the memories, he was confused. Part of him had to know, had to find out what had happened to his home below the sands, he was in no doubt that the machines had discovered the Silo, had it been destroyed along with everyone that he knew and cared for? Feelings of guilt crept in, he had survived, out of all of them he alone had survived, but he wasn't sure he was going to survive these memories. It didn't help that he was alone, not just in the sense that he was the only human in this place, but they left him alone, for the most part he was left to dwell on his thoughts without being able to seek any answers.

They had him lying on his stomach. He still drifted in and out of consciousness, but he was aware that at times people were moving him gently, stretching his limbs and rubbing his back, this was always accompanied by an odour, not an unpleasant smell, but one that reminded him of hospitals antiseptics. He tried to stretch his hand around to his back on many occasions. At first the pain this caused made him blackout, but it did get easier and after a while the pain seemed to subside. Then one day he found himself sitting up, supported by a specially constructed device. Now he could reach around and was able to feel the back of his neck and the base of his spine. Gently probing with his fingertips, he lightly caressed the skin along the length of his spine, he could quite clearly feel a ridge of scar tissue running down the vertebrae. He hadn't seen his wounds; didn't know how badly he had been injured. But he felt gratitude for his rescue, but remained amazed at the skill of these people. He felt sure his own people would not possess the necessary knowledge and medical skills to enable his survival following such trauma and extensive wounds. He had thanked the people that came by to look upon him. He had given them a collective name - 'Healers', for that is what they had done. They obviously didn't understand a word he was saying, but at least they acknowledge his verbal gratitude with a smile or a nod of the head. In the same way he could not make out any of the words that they spoke. Their language was like nothing he had heard; he had studied some of the more common human languages as part of his schooling as a child, but there were no similarities to any human language or dialect that he could pick out from what these people said.

Sometimes he just stared at the people outside his cell, he had never seen their like before, they were generally slightly shorter physically than most people he knew, he wondered from where in the world they originated. But then he and his people had hidden away for so long within the Silo's they would not know if others had survived, even evolved. Certainly they looked very similar in all aspects apart from having the strangest shaped ears, long and pointed at the ends. Yet they were a beautiful race, all the females he had seen were stunningly beautiful, he found himself staring in abject wonder, not a skin blemish, mark or the slightest discolouration on any of them. No patches of different shaded skin or dark spots, no wrinkles of age of any sort, there skin seemed to flow across their bodies without a single crease or wrinkle. The only notable variation between some of them was that of skin tone, he had seen people exhibiting every shade from almost white to darkest brown. Even the males had a beauty about them, a certain lithe elegance. It was the way they moved and spoke and gestured to one another. All of the people he had seen had eyes that had vivid blue irises, but there was something that had initially shocked him and took a little while to get used to, for some of them instead of the surrounding white of the eye as you would expect, had an almost matching blue hue to that of the iris. The individuals with this odd eye mutation looked strange, they had the dark dot that everyone had in the centre of the eye but everything else was blue. It gave them an odd, very alien look.

If only he could understand their language. He could find out so much, ask all of the questions that burned within his mind. He wanted to know where he was and how he got here. He remembered the flight across the meadow, the attacking war drones and the defense that the figure carrying him had put up. But he didn't remember any journey, any method of transport, prior to arriving here from the valley above the cistern.

As soon as he was able they insisted he took regular exercise. Always accompanied by one of the 'Healers'. He would be escorted out of his cell and into the areas beyond. His exercise consisted mainly of walking around a large veranda adorned with plants of various kinds, some in pots, others growing in well-tended borders. His favourite was a plant that grew over the edge of the brickwork above and hung down almost to the veranda on which he stood. People gently pushed the flowering fronds to one side as they passed, each taking great care not to damage the plant. He remembered the joy on first seeing this spectacle, it was a joy akin to his visits to the meadow above the silo. But the plants that grew here were of a very different kind to those he was used to seeing; they were as strange as the people themselves, as where the insects that flew amongst them especially the large firefly-like ones that populated the night time hours. But then his only experience of the natural world had been that of the meadow, he supposed that elsewhere in the world plants had evolved into a myriad of differing shapes. He took great solace in the fact that these people obviously respected and understood the beauty of nature, something he has also grown up with.

Occasionally his walks took him along the outer edge of the wide veranda, he could see over the parapet and there beyond he looked out over a town, or perhaps a city. It was quite a bustling place, the architecture had an air of beauty about it but it also seemed somewhat utilitarian, functional in the way that it had been designed and built. It was as if the town was built to a standard pattern but adornments had been added by the various people that lived within it. In these ways it reminded him very much of the purpose of the Silo. He even began to suspect that this was in fact another of the Silos. A place where people used to live upon the surface of the world and it had been rebuilt to provide a home for these people. He smiled at the irony of his thoughts, perhaps whilst he and his forefathers had hidden cowering beneath the surface of the world, others of his race had in fact developed, evolved into these super beings at least within this city in which he now found himself.

When alone, his thoughts nearly always returned to the meadow surrounding the cistern, mixed feelings and emotions continued to flood through him. These feelings of tragic loss became increasingly bolstered by the feeling of hatred for those that had committed such a crime. Somehow he found solace in these strong emotions, he found it gave him strength. More and more he found his thoughts dwelling on how these people, if he could learn to communicate with them, perhaps how they may help his people, at least what was left of them. They certainly knew how to handle themselves, the war drones didn't seem to pose too much of a threat to them. They had weapons and technologies that could easily counter the machines it seemed. Suddenly he felt a great sense of urgency. Yes, they had technology, weapons that could destroy the machines! This could prove a turning point in the war. He had to get out, get beyond this place of confinement, get into the city that he viewed below the parapet. He had to talk to someone else, a leader, someone in authority. He had to make them understand that he and his people desperately needed help and the aid of an ally.

Deep in his thoughts he suddenly became aware that someone stood before the entrance to his cell. He slowly looked up from the cot, there outlined in the light beyond stood a figure. Light shone upon her face, her features looked angelic, the tanned skin of her face a give-away that she spent much time in the presence of natural sunlight. His eyes fell to her mouth, the smile upon her lips radiated an almost child-like expression, a beautiful sight, innocent, captivating, almost intoxicating. He looked at her eyes, piercingly blue. He then immediately recognised her, she had come before, come to visit him many times. Sometimes she would appear dressed in a manly garb, supple leather leggings and a matching sleeveless jerkin showing her muscled arms. The leather she wore was ornately carved, the workmanship was exquisite. Other times she came dressed as a soldier, bedecked in thick leather armour and metalwork covering shins and thighs, arms and shoulders, a chain mail coat protecting her body. Sometimes she held a helm tucked beneath her arm, laid inside the helm a leather face mask. Most of the time her long hair was tied intricately behind her head in a long plait. She appeared like someone from out of the ancient history, people he had read about in books. Old books that had been discarded, tossed into large crates he had discovered amongst the dust and debris of the lower forgotten levels within the Silo.

This time she was indeed adorned with weapons about her person, two short swords at her hips and several ornate daggers pushed into clips along a leather bandolier across her right shoulder. She sported red dirt and dust on her boots and lower legs as if she had just returned from patrol somewhere out in the desert. Was this place indeed a silo then? Perhaps miles from his Silo, or even close by. Yes he recognised her, he was sure this was the one who had rescued him, the one who had fought the war drones and survived. If she could go back out into the desert then surely so could he. He started to talk quickly and without fore thought, excitement drove the words, if only he could make himself understood with his wild gestures and garbled, frantic words. But she just smiled and giggled at him, she held up a hand as if to halt his efforts and he found he did so immediately as if he had been ordered to do so. She then turned and left.

Sometime later she returned, it could only have been a few hours at most for nothing had happened from the time she left to this. He rose carefully from the cot and walked to stand before the entrance to his cell, he was too shocked to say anything. She had never appeared in this manner before, where always before she wore the garb of a soldier, or some utilitarian clothing, she now wore a beautiful gown, long to the ground a full skirt and fashioned bodice. Her long hair, now free of its confinement was tied in ornate ways around her face and cascaded down to her waist behind her where it ended in a point. Jewelry shone about her person, by far the most striking adornment was a necklace of finely worked silver and gold bedecked with gems of all colours and shapes, the stones seemed to be uncut, the wearer preferring the natural way that the stones looked instead of losing the natural shape to the art and skill of the gem cutter. He gasped, but remained speechless. She was even more beautiful; he found she stirred something within him, something that he had never felt before, an irresistible attraction. Her piercing blue eyes stared at him. He was more used to these eyes now, but still they seemed to reach into his very soul. It was those eyes that he recognised, they had been the only characteristics he had noticed about the figure that had saved him in the meadow, carried him to this place. This strikingly beautiful girl was the same person that had saved him, she was the one that had used that advanced weaponry to fight the drones. But of course he knew this, yet dressed as she was now it was hard to believe. How could such beauty, such grace and femininity be the source of such efficient and deadly fighting skill? Once more he started to blurt out sentences, completely forgetting that she would not understand, but he had to tell her, for she may hold the key to saving his people. She stood her head cocked to one side, smiling gently, but her smile soon widened into a broad grin and she giggled and then she started to laugh. He stopped, her laugh captivated him, she looked so lovely, so fragile, nothing like the warrior he had seen in the meadow. All of a sudden he felt speechless in the presence of such a wondrous being. He found himself laughing also, perhaps slightly nervously.

She said something. Even the words she spoke were beautiful. The individual sounds seemed to flow like water from her lips, there seemed to be no halt or end to a sentence or even silence enough take a breath, yet the individual syllables could be made out clearly, somehow punctuated, separated. How he wished he could understand what she said. She then repeated a few syllables over and over, she spoke the sounds slowly, halting for a millisecond between syllables or was it words? She indicated towards herself. He listened as she repeated the sounds several times then he mouthed the unknown words, "Hue'Appre'l'P'Arcerial."

Then she repeated what sounded like one single word over and over whilst she held her hand upon her breast, "P'Arcerial, P'Arcerial , P'Arcerial."

Suddenly it occurred to him, this was her name, she was telling him her name! Excitedly he repeated the sound, she smiled and nodded. He took in a breath and looked more serious as he placed a hand upon his chest as she had done, he thought of the words she had just spoken and took a guess "Hue'Appre'l'Petré," then he repeated in English, "I am called Petré, Petré, Petré." He thumped his finger on his chest each time he said his name.

She laughed once more, in the excitement of learning he felt it to be the most wonderful sound he had ever heard, he smiled and nodded. When she had composed herself she indicated to her long hair and her dress and said "Appre'l." Then actually reaching through the bars of the cell she touched his hair and pointing at his chest said, "Appre'dde'." He didn't understand and looked quizzically at her.

So she repeated, "Hue'APPRE'l'P'Arcerial," whilst pointing at herself and then whilst pointing at him said, "Hue'APPRE'DDE'Petré." She said his name perfectly; it was the most wonderful thing to hear. He noticed that one syllable she said in a slightly raised voice, they obviously had some significance and were slightly different.

Suddenly it dawned on him, ok he was willing to concede that the language she spoke contained both a feminine and masculine gender, he had made a mistake but he didn't care. He was in the enchanting company of the most beautiful being he had ever seen and he found he was greatly excited that he had amused her.

He waited for her to say his name once more, but instead she looked down. She held out a bag and gestured that he should take it. He reached between the bars of the cell and did so. Then looking inside recognised his own things, all that he had upon his person at the time of the attack and his finding himself here in this place wherever that was. He took the bag, he walked across to the cot and started to tip the contents onto the sheets. There his shirt fell out, his once bloody and torn shirt was there reminding him of the attack in the meadow, but it was no longer a mess, someone had cleaned it and repaired all the tares, it was pressed and like new. Suddenly he had a thought, he tipped everything that remained out onto the cot and started to search through the various items of clothing frantically. The girl P'Arcerial looked on curiously. He shook clothing, turned pockets inside out, he began to panic, it wasn't there! Frantically he tried all the pockets once again, he threw the shirt to the floor in despair and slight rage. He realised that they, the girl must have taken it, they must have stolen it. He slowly looked up towards where the girl stood, she held her hand thought the bars, there nestling in her palm was what he sought. That one thing, the small circular disk, his Dolan, the disk that would allow him access back into the Silo if he ever was able to return that is.

"This is yours Petré. Everything you had about your person when we met I return them to you. This I found and kept safe, I was afraid it may get lost." She lowered her eyes to the object she held forth.

Petré stood in shock, all thought of the Dolan gone. He looked about him. He had clearly heard a voice. But he did not hear through his ears. It was as if someone had spoken straight into his mind. He looked about him. Deep fear and confusion showing on his features.

The girl, P'Arcerial, she was looking at him, her blue eyes shone, they seemed to glow where they had not before. She looked deeply concerned as she held out her hand as if trying to console him with the object she held. As they looked at each other, he heard the voice once more. "I'm sorry, I did not wish to startle you, it's just that if I mind speak, my direct thoughts and actions will appear in your mind, you will understand me and not have to wait until we can communicate using our voices in spoken language."

He reached forward and snatched the Dolan from her then he quickly retreated back into the cell. The wounds in his back connected with the rear wall, causing him to cry out in pain.

"She spoke into his mind once more, she held up a hand as if in submission. "Please Petré, I am truly sorry, I will not do it again."

"How did you do that?" He spoke out loud.

She just cocked her head to one side questioningly. He had heard of telepathy before, many human societies had tried to master it, some had claimed to be able to do such a thing, but always it was a clever trick, an entertainment, nothing like the obvious extent of this girl's capabilities.

She looked sad as she turned to leave. Sudden panic rose within him, he rushed to the bars and concentrated hard, closing his eyes, he tried to think hard, formulate the words in his mind as he thought, "No. Please wait! Please, come back."

When he opened his eyes she had gone. She had not heard, or perhaps she had chosen to ignore him. He sighed and sat once more upon the cot lowering his eyes to his hands. He stared at his open palm in which lay the Dolan.

## Chapter 10. Back to School

P'Arcerial took up the seeing stone and placed it in its carrying case. She had recorded a new set of instructions into it and was ready once more to take it to the human, Petré, in the healer cells. She smiled remembering how at first the human had seemed so bemused by everything. She chastised herself. She must stop referring to him by his racial identity, he had a name now, it was Petré, Petré. She repeated it as if trying to get herself used to using the name, to remind herself that was his name, his personal identity. But she frowned, using his name, somehow that frightened her, as if to use his name somehow acknowledged something else, somehow made some unacknowledged fear come to the fore, become recognised. Again she remembered the dream that plagued her sleeping hours. What did it mean, why was it being repeated over and over? She was convinced it was something to do with this human. She wouldn't know until they could communicate. She had not tried to mind speak again, it seemed to distress him, it was not something that all he people could do and she rarely used it, only if she needed to communicate over some distance or in secret. Even then it would only work if the other person had the ability.

She stood and drew the shawl close about her shoulders as if a chill was in the air. Taking up the carry case holding the seeing stone, she walked through the vast hall of the library and went out of the main doors that lay wide open. As she left the building she narrowed her eyes at the bright sunlight streaming down from above. She strode through the streets, acknowledging many others as they bowed to her as she went. But something had changed, somehow these streets were not so familiar, somehow there was an alien feel to them, a taint. She couldn't decide if it was the streets themselves or if something had changed within her. The former she suspected was not to blame, the latter she refused to believe or dwell upon.

Her father was the elected representative of the T'Iea people within the city, he was also the current leading representative of the combined races, had been all her life. Because of his position, she had grown up as a young girl in the company of these people and she knew most of them by name and those she did not know so personably she knew by their features. She also acknowledged the non-T'Iea that strode through the city streets, other representatives belonging to the other people making up the combined races. They were all here, the elder races as they called themselves individually.

Most she knew had been allies of the T'Iea for ages untold, for so long in fact the circumstances of their origins remained a mystery, a myth shrouded in the distant past. They had all of them been around for a very, very long time. Second to her native T'Iea were the stout Grûndén. Most T'Iea being a very spiritual people thought that the two races had been brought together through the will of The Maker or Eny'Nin'Rel to give him his T'Iea name. The Grûndén also believed in this same god of all but to them he was Lord Øédréll. But P'Arcerial didn't care how this ancient friendship was made, for she was just glad she knew of the Grûndén, for she knew them to be a noble people, jolly and resourceful, brave and honourable. She had many Grûndén friends in their city that was within a different area of the star ship. She would go there as often as she could to see them for she loved their endless good humour and limitless kindness. They lived their lives without a care, did everything with much gusto and unbounded enthusiasm.

But it wasn't only the stout Grûndén that walked these streets. Other races were also represented. The smallest in stature, looking but like children perhaps, clean cut and business like. These people were of the race of diminutive Pnook. The Pnook were the next addition to the combined races, they had come in machines of their own design, whether this was also the will of Eny'Nin'Rel none knew for sure. The T'Iea and the Grûndén both had the ability to travel across the outer voids, that was how they met. A chance crossing of paths out in the reaches of the voids. But the Pnook had come crossing the outer voids in technological marvels that far surpassed that of the T'Iea or the Grûndén. This star ship owed much to the Pnook technology. The Pnook had invited the T'Iea and the Grûndén to travel with them, to join their adventure of travelling the stars. The technology was far advanced in those first days but not nearly so advanced as that of the current time, the Pnook were a very inventive people, there command of science was paramount to them. But travelling the outer voids was slow in those days with capabilities vastly inferior to what was available now.

But that was all to change when the combined races chanced upon a fourth race of beings. This new race were few, they had always been few and were rarely found outside of their home city. This race, the strangest perhaps of all the combined races, were known collectively to the T'Iea as the race of the Keepers. The Keepers call themselves the Inu'Itil, the Grûndén call them the Old Ones. This fourth race had no need for technology or for machines to do their bidding, the Keepers have a skill in another form, the skill to bend time and space at their whim. Because of this skill the combined races were free to travel far vaster distances across the outer voids and the great star ships like the one that P'Arcerial had lived on all her life were built to take advantage of the capability that the Keepers brought with them.

P'Arcerial continued to walk through the streets of the city. She saw the shape of a massive man coming towards her. Towering a metre or two above the other folk walking the street he looked perhaps monstrous. Long braided hair cascaded down his back, the fronds matted and knotted, his face set in a grim expression as he lumbered along on legs as thick as a tree trunk. He strolled right up to P'Arcerial and stopping bent low firstly in a bow, then saying in a deep gruff voice, "Milady."

P'Arcerial curtsied acknowledging his greeting replying, "my lord Toudron, I hope this day finds you well?"

The great giant of a man smiled back showing great canine teeth set into his bottom jaw that protruded from his parted lips, then nodding he stood upright. "When you next speak with your father please pass on my greatest regards, please apologise to him that I have not sought his counsel. I have been occupied with maintenance schedules for what seems like weeks. He asked for a meeting, I regret I have not been able to find the time."

P'Arcerial acknowledged his request and the big man bowed once more and passed on along the street. She watched him go, all the pedestrians parting around him as he seemed to cut through them like a ship on the high sea. This big man was from the race of giants that the elder races collectively called the Ognods, or as they call themselves, the Nagtrosd. Unusually tall, massive figures of men, great in strength and physical resilience. The Ognods were the last race to have joined the combined races. They had not discovered the ability to travel across the outer voids. The combined races came across their world and watched, much as they were doing here with the world of men. The Ognods did not have the knowledge of travel across the outer voids, but what they did have attracted the combined races. The Ognods exhibited a strong resilience to the sources of energy that powered the star ship and to the deadly forces that those sources inherently exhibited. This was invaluable to the Pnook builders of the star ship, they needed the inherent resilience of the Ognods to labour within the star ship. The Pnook themselves used to undertake this work but it was dangerous to them and many suffered the consequences. So the Ognods had been invited into the combined races to be the technicians aboard the star ship.

Her entire life she had lived within this city. She remembered her younger years, she remembered her mother, remembered how she had died at the hands of the Ognods. The same people that were now their allies. Yes, they were now friends, yet first contact with them had not been at all friendly. The Ognods were a fierce people, they seemed to have a natural arrogance, they did not look kindly on other races trying to infiltrate their world. It had taken a long time to understand each other and she was sorrowful that one of the casualties of that initial misunderstanding was the life of her mother.

She missed her, as did her father, but that was a long time ago now, how long? She did not know, time was irrelevant here in this city of the star ship. For these cities of the elder races were not on any void ball; they were none of them part of a world spinning around a sun. No, this city and the all others that the star ship contained were at the heart of a great craft. Each of the elder races was represented and each had a city within the great star ship, a vessel her people called At'Lan'T'Ys.

This star ship was one of many, each traversed the known universe and beyond. How it all started was a long tale. But the combined races having formed their alliance many ages in the past had struck out to explore and discover. These great star ships were sent on lifelong missions of discovery, if they discovered a place was worth any kind of attention, they left a beacon so that others could follow their lead and go there. In rarer cases a place was found to be populated by beings that eventually may be approached and invited to join the combined races for the greater good of all. They had been observing this world of men for a long time, watching mankind's progress carefully. For mankind proved to exhibit all the necessary criteria, the growing scientific knowledge and the social awareness that marked them as being ready to approach. But then just as the combined races were ready to make the first tentative contact, the humans had started a war.

Mankind raged against mankind, former neighbours had waged war upon each other, former friends now became bitter enemies. The goal of preserving life had turned into a desire to end it. The overarching belief in total equality had mutated into a hysteria of ethnic cleansing. Mankind had lost all reason, lost all sanity. The world in which they lived was their only home, yet they used up resources at an alarming rate, damaged the world, perhaps beyond repair. Once a careful race, thoughtful and just, they had used their once growing scientific knowledge in the abolishment of suffering, the eradication of disease the end of hunger. But they now perverted that knowledge into an instrument of mass destruction and mindless killing. Now this was all they knew.

After a few minutes more she stopped walking instinctively. She stood outside the building that housed the healers, without remembering the journey to get there. Her immediate goal was to teach this human she had saved to talk in the common tongue of the combined races, the language they all used to communicate communally, for they had needed a standard language to ensure continuity of understanding between them. The common tongue had some limitations, but at least they could understand one another. She was desperate to ask questions, as was he she was sure. She hoped that in this way she could communicate her hope to him.

She entered the building, people nodded and sometimes stopped her for a few words. She did not stop for long, rather wanting to reach the healer cells and Petré as she had done many times before. She had rescued him, why she could not say, it was an act that went against the ruling counsel, yet she had felt obliged, no she had needed to save this man, something had driven her to do so. The human had healed well and was now almost at one hundred percent health, but he remained here. She felt sad that they should keep their human guest in here, locked in a cell, but she had promised her father, so until they could communicate and satisfy themselves that Petré would not try anything adverse and place himself or them in danger, they were forced to keep him here for their own security. She consoled herself; at least he didn't seem to mind too much.

He was there as usual waiting with a broad smile upon his face. He always seemed so pleased to see her and this time was no different. He was picking up the common tongue quickly and this was very encouraging, even though his grammar was a little odd at times.

"Hello, you one P'Arcerial, today is well I hoping?"

She sniggered at his still stumbling grasp of the language, but he was a fast learner. She found joy in their meetings, she found it difficult to understand how the people he represented could be so violent towards one another. She had grown to care for the humans of the world outside through this one man. She felt a kind of kindred spirit towards them, as misguided as they were. For she felt something within this human. There was still compassion, love within him, it led her to believe that his race as a whole must still possess a source of good even if this was hidden. Deep down she knew the Makers basic framework was still there. It was this that captivated her interest the most. She felt within her heart that this man and perhaps the human race, could be saved even now. "Hello Petré. Yes I am very well thank you. I hope that you are still comfortable and your every need is being attended to?"

"Yes, I am seen to, very good. Peoples is kind very to me and beautiful is you with them all." He pointed at the seeing stone, "you bring more lessen for me, is my teacher time?"

She nodded and opening the case she reached in and took out the seeing stone. She passed it through the bars and reaching out he took it eagerly. She watched as he set the stone upon the floor in front of him and as she had taught him activated the stone with a wave of his hand, he then sat there looking into its depths as her new lesson was introduced. She saw something within him, not the blood thirsty desire for war, but the desire for peace and the love of something that he could not have at the present time. She detected this in him, when he had first shown himself on the valley floor, he had rejoiced in the meadow, had found real joy in the plants and the natural order he found there. Of this she was sure. She wondered if all the humans living there deep under the sands were like him, did they all desire their world to be cured, returned in its natural state, did they all feel remorse perhaps for what their forefathers had allowed the world to become? She was suddenly aware that she had been staring at him for some time, a feeling of embarrassment came over her, she felt her cheeks flush and redden. She did not want him to see her this way, she thought about saying goodbye but thankfully he was concentrating, so she smiled and walked away.

After a further two or three weeks Petré's grasp of the common tongue had progressed to the point where he was quite fluent in most subjects. There were a few areas that he could not grasp, but these weren't due to his inability to learn the pronunciation of the words or the words themselves, it was more to do with the inability to comprehend the concepts they represented. He couldn't understand the concept of the use of portals for travel, he had difficulty grasping the fact that he found himself in a vast star ship able to traverse this galaxy and beyond in the blink of an eye. Some things remained just too - well, too large for his mind to take in.

Eventually P'Arcerial thought it time to see about giving him some freedom. Thoughts were growing in P'Arcerial's mind, she had persuaded her father D'Annu'Elle to accompany her on her latest visit and to speak with Petré. She hoped he would have compassion for the human, see how he had progressed.

Petré stood as he always did, smiling with a slightly mischievous look on his face, a look that she confessed to finding quite endearing. "I have brought someone to meet you, perhaps he can be persuaded to allow you more comfort."

Petré gazed over her shoulder expectantly, he was standing slightly up on his toes.

P'Arcerial called for D'Annu'Elle to come forth.

"Petré, this is my father, T'D'Annu'Elle. He is leader of our people. He was present upon the return of the exploratory party I was part of the day I found you in the meadow of flowers."

Petré bowed low in respect and said, "T' D'Annu'Elle," he stayed that way until D'Annu'Elle bade him rise. P'Arcerial smiled, she had taught him well in the rudimentary demands of basic T'Iea social etiquette.

D'Annu'Elle smiled to, although he understood full well the reasons his daughter had prepared this human so carefully. That was just her way. "So, young master human, it seems that my daughter has taken you under her wing and wishes to see you afforded additional comforts. She tells me that your wounds have healed well, but you will always carry the marks of the machine until the day of the Maker's calling and you take the white ship and journey to the hallowed shores."

Petré briefly wondered at the reference T'D'Annu'Elle made, but said quickly, "I have seen your city from the balcony, I would dearly relish the chance to walk its streets and meet its people. To understand more."

D'Annu'Elle nodded slowly. "Then I ask you to tell me a little about yourself and why my daughter felt compelled to save you from the attack by the machines of war."

Petré nodded in agreement with the request. "You must already know that we built many underground places of retreat. We call them Silos. The machines of war as you call them hunt us without respite, so we were forced many generations ago to seek safety deep beneath the ground to hide from detection. Each Silo is autonomous, it plays host to many human families," here his voice faltered as he thought of those that must now be dead within the Silo he once lived. "But as you witnessed, it would seem that the machines have finally discovered our hiding places. It would seem we are no longer as safe within the Silos as we once were."

D'Annu'Elle noticed Petré clench his fists and for a brief moment a dark cloud obscured his face, contorted it into an expression of deep hatred. But the look was gone as quickly as it had flashed across his face, but D'Annu'Elle noticed he still stood with clenched fists.

Petré continued with his explanation. "I had a task in the Silo that allowed frequent visits to the surface, well at least once per cycle of the year when the Silo underwent some maintenance procedures. During this time the power generators that provide the Silo's energy reserves are partially shut down for cleaning and general maintenance. The water that is used to cool the machinery is also cleansed of impurities and one of my responsibilities is to drain the cistern; that is the wide tunnel that holds the water but also allows access into the Silo. I discovered long ago when I was a child that when the cistern is emptied of water it revealed a stairway. I found I could climb up the many stairs within the cistern and come out into the open air."

D'Annu'Elle noticed Petré relax, his clenched fists became open hands once again. "This climbing of the stairs, was it allowed? Was it part of your responsibility?"

Petré frowned, he didn't answer D'Annu'Elle's question directly. "I love the openness, the free air, the natural beauty of it all. My race has missed such things for many hundreds of generations, I would love to reintroduce them to the world above ground. For I discovered that the waters in the cistern give a life-giving sustenance to the world above and the Silo, the meadow above played host to an explosion of nature within the valley where it is protected from the surrounding desert wastelands."

P'Arcerial looked at her father as if confirming smugly something she had already alluded to.

D'Annu'Elle glanced at his daughter and raised one eyebrow at her. "Yes, well, perhaps there is hope for your world and your kind yet it would seem."

Petré hung his head, "there is little hope for mankind T'D'Annu'Elle. I fear we will not last for many future generations. The machines adapt and change, they mutate all the time, for they seek us out wherever we are, their one goal is to destroy us, right down to the last individual."

Petré seemed to become lost, withdraw into himself deep in thought.

P'Arcerial looked on sadly, in the moment of sadness she wanted to clarify something, a suspicion that she had not yet raised with her father but thought he should understand and perhaps Petré could explain. "That is not all, I felt within each machine, a presence, vaguely human. As if each machine had the will of a human. What is that, do you know?"

Petré looked into her eyes. "It is something too terrible perhaps to tell."

The two T'Iea stood and waited looking into the tortured expression upon Petré's face.

The machines hunt us for our neural systems to incorporate into their perverse technology. Petré rubbed his face with both hands and then looked towards the T'Iea beyond his cell. He took in a long, deep breath. "I would have been harvested by now if it was not for the actions of your daughter T'D'Annu'Elle. I owe her my life."

There was silence for some minutes.

Petré was thinking once more about the obvious technological advances that these people had, the obvious superiority in weapons they possessed. He was on the brink of asking D'Annu'Elle for his aid in defeating the machines. Asking him to step in and save the remaining Silos from destruction. He also wanted dearly to return to his Silo, to confirm whether or not it had been destroyed by the attack from which he was saved.

But before he could voice these thoughts D'Annu'Elle seemed to come to a decision and spoke. "A sorrowful tale indeed master Petré. One perhaps that has far from ended. However, I have made a decision. If my daughter agrees and of course should you wish it, I will allow you leave from this cell as long as she finds the time to escort you everywhere." Here he looked towards his daughter.

P'Arcerial smiled and looking excited she placed a kiss upon her father's cheek.

D'Annu'Elle however, pulled away slightly and raised a finger, "however, my daughter must promise to escort you only if she has time to spare from her other duties. I also place a curfew upon you Petré, that you will promise to return to this cell in time of rest. Break either of these demands; either of you and Petré will spend all his time back in this cell." D'Annu'Elle searched both their faces for a response, but it seemed that none was forth coming. "But, I will also ensure that adherence to these rules may be rewarded, for if we deem you worthy Petré after a suitable trial period, you may gain yourself further privileges which I shall decide upon as I see fit."

"Thank you T'D'Annu'Elle, that is most generous, I assure you I will not disappoint you in any way."

D'Annu'Elle nodded.

"Father, when does this begin?" P'Arcerial looked hopefully at her father.

"Have you any duties outstanding my daughter?"

"None," was the reply.

"Then begin it forthwith if you wish, I will instruct the healers on these terms and ask they release Petré immediately?"

P'Arcerial giggled quietly and placed both arms around her father's neck and hugged him tight.

## Chapter 11. Freedom of the City

P'Arcerial and Petré strolled once more through the city streets, as they had on many occasions since D'Annu'Elle had agreed to let Petré have more freedom to explore the city of the T'Iea. As long as P'Arcerial accompanied him, he could go wherever he wished. But he had to be back within his cell in the Healers building by the curfew that D'Annu'Elle had placed upon him. Despite the privileges afforded him Petré frowned at the restriction, it was better than being confined within the healer cells, but somehow now that he was free to walk around it wasn't enough that he couldn't go about without an escort and had to report back to the cells by a certain time. But he said nothing, he still relished his new-found freedom and he was still in awe of where he found himself. Although P'Arcerial offered many explanations, he still could not quite believe what she said. The fact that he stood within a city, a metropolis, that was itself inside a vast conveyance, a star ship she called it, a ship designed to travel the stars. She went on to say that this star ship was not unique but one of many such craft, how many P'Arcerial did not know, all she would say was that these ships were scattered across the infinite space of the outer voids, but it was rare that any two were ever in close proximity. Certainly never in her life had they made such contact with another star ship.

There was a tranquility about this place, whether this was due to the actual aura of the city or the people that lived within it he couldn't tell. Or maybe it was a result of him being out of the environment of the Silo and free from the permanent fear that pervaded throughout his life. His heart gave a jump when he thought about that ever present fear of discovery and attack, he knew in his mind that the Silo, his old home, had been destroyed. But the finality of actually witnessing the destruction for himself, the actual proof was still missing and this unsettled him greatly. He glanced sideways at P'Arcerial, as ever she caught his movement and looked straight at him, a smile upon her lips. He enjoyed her presence, enjoyed her company, in fact he now looked for it. He missed her when she was absent. He found himself looking away quickly a strange feeling of embarrassment within him. Perhaps it was his human reactions, the T'Iea did not seem to feel embarrassment at least not in a social setting, they seemed to take everything at face value, they wore their hearts on their sleeves, they had no concept of half-truths and deception. Perhaps it was this trait that caused him to feel slightly uneasy amongst these people. His expectations of social interaction were very different.

He found himself staring at the various peoples that walked alongside him in these streets instead. Most took no notice of him whatsoever; some, if he caught their eye, acknowledged him with a nod of the head or a spoken greeting using the common tongue that all the combined races used in each other's company. Before he had been allowed out of the healer's cell, P'Arcerial had explained in great detail about the various other races of people that lived within the star ship. But this did not prepare him for the reality, he found himself staring at these other races just because they were so unfamiliar, especially he supposed since he had lived only amongst his own kind, locked away underground with no chance of ever coming across any other strange races of people.

Petré wanted to engage with her again, so he asked her why the star ships travelled so far, what purpose was behind the need to undertake these journeys and how long had they been doing so?

She thought for a while but then responded. She explained that somewhere in the outer voids the Maker, The Father of All, had in his infinite wisdom created a race of beings. The First Born she called them. These First Born grew in intellect over many millennia and they eventually gained the knowledge to travel beyond the world on which the Maker granted them life. Their technology improved and they eventually spread widely through the outer voids, colonising other worlds when they found them. But the colonists had to start again, develop on their own, many of these worlds, although able to support life, were different to the original world that the Maker gave to the First Born and they were forced to adapt in different ways. She likened it to a tree, seeds are grown on the host tree and then cast adrift to develop on their own. Some seeds thrived some did not. Over time and many generations, the First Born colonists adapted to those individual worlds in diverse ways, perfectly evolving over time to live in those differing environments.

Petré guessed that the races of the combined, the T'Iea and the others were in fact those evolved races of which she spoke.

P'Arcerial nodded with a smile. She went on to explain that this was the reason they travelled, to seek out other races of the First Born, to make contact with these other peoples and to explain to them the history and the origins of life. To tell them of the Maker and his great love for all his creation and how they would benefit if they came back to him, to live in understanding and bathed in his truth and light.

Petré asked where the original world was, the world of the First Born, where they had first come about.

P'Arcerial had a wistful look upon her face, with a shrug she explained that they did not know, that knowledge had been lost many ages before, the races of the combined no longer had that knowledge. She added that this was another reason they travelled, to find the world of the First Born, to see if that ancient people still existed. For they believed that if they found the First Born, then they may perhaps also find the Maker himself.

Petré remained deep in thought for a minute or two before he broke the silence, "do you think my race, the race of mankind is one of those descendants of the First Born?"

P'Arcerial smiled, "perhaps yes, why not. Other than the Ognods, you are the only other race that we on this star ship have discovered, how many other races have been found by other star ships I do not know, I probably will never find out, but yes, my belief guides me to think that all humanoid races are descendants of the one race, the race of the first born."

"We could even be the first born." Petré spoke softly as if to himself. The technology of his people was far greater in ancient times, even though it had been lost and nearly all mention of it destroyed, perhaps even comparable to that which had produced this star ship. P'Arcerial's voice brought him back from his thoughts.

She had been looking at him intently. "It is true. Any of the races could be the first born." But she looked a little sad as she added, "yet it is possible that if we found the First Born then perhaps we may not recognise them. For how would we know? So much time has passed, so much change must have happened. So much of our history, our origins, all has been forgotten." After a pause of a minute or so she brightened and lifting her chin said, "but I like to think that actually we are all of us the first-born, for there is a little of them in all of us, even to this day. However different we may appear either physically or culturally, what we have learned and discovered, what we do and think, how we act, this is irrelevant for we are in essence all the same, for we all share the same heritage."

Petré was not sure. He couldn't see these people engaged in a destructive war, or arriving at the point where their world was almost uninhabitable. Her answer to his skepticism was to say that all the races new of war. They all had to learn to wield arms and defend themselves. He asked P'Arcerial about her own race, based on his experiences when he first met P'Arcerial he asked if they were the soldiers, the fighters, perhaps the security force aboard the star ship. She laughed at him, saying that all the races had skills in battle, but in various ways. She thought it a sad fact that common to every race in its history was the ugliness of conflict. Somehow this made Petré feel better. Yet she said that the skill of the T'Iea was only used offensively when absolutely necessary, they did not exploit this skill for their own gain, or for any other reason other than for defence and self-preservation. He scoffed at her saying that what he had experienced of the weaponry available to them they could conquer all if they so wished, nothing could stand in their way; she looked at him a deep frown upon her face. He took no notice, instead he wanted to know more about the weapons she had used when she had rescued him in the meadow, but she seemed reserved, a little withdrawn and would not elaborate saying instead that such things were not something that should interest him. She followed this comment with a brief look that made him falter in his step, to his surprise those eyes had shown anger, even hostility.

But he had some sympathy for her point, his race had thrown all of their technology into the development of weapons of unbelievable power. Then gone on to misuse these to the point where the whole world was now in great danger. But there was something else, he also found envy in his heart. Perhaps because of her defiance, her resistance to his questioning, but darker thoughts began to fester in his mind, thoughts of revenge. If he were to gain the weapons available to the T'Iea and the combined races, then his race would be surely able to vanquish the machines of war and even destroy their creators so that nothing like this could happen again. Petré said no more, not wanting to raise her suspicions any further. But he still harboured a secret interest, for if he could gain but one set of these T'Iea weapons then he would perhaps have the ability to save all that remained of mankind.

But his thoughts were interrupted; they had stopped and now stood outside a large building. P'Arcerial told him this was the great library and indicated that he should enter through the doors before them. Petré entered the building, but P'Arcerial did not follow him. He stopped and turned when he realised that her footsteps did not resound upon the stone floor of the libraries entrance hall behind.

She stood still in the street outside smiling at him, her arms crossed and giggled. "My father has seen fit to allow you your freedom Petré. From now on you can go wherever you wish on your own, whenever you like, without an escort."

What she had said took a while to sink in, but then a feeling of elation came over him, he rushed to where P'Arcerial stood and reaching around her waist, lifted her off the ground and swung her around a look of joy upon his face. P'Arcerial grasped his shoulders and laughed. She was lowered to the ground. Petré stood back as she said with a slight smile, "I see you are pleased Petré, he trusts you as do I."

Petré smiled all previous thoughts forgotten, "I will not fail you, or him, for bestowing this great honour, of this you can be sure." He turned and gestured towards the Library entrance, "you aren't coming in?"

P'Arcerial giggled and shook her head. "No. I have tasks elsewhere. But enjoy your first day of freedom, enjoy the wealth of knowledge you will find within."

He smiled and nodded, he felt disappointment that she would be leaving him. "Will I see you later?"

"Perhaps, we shall see. I am to accompany my father to the Keepers city, there is some business to discuss, it may take some time. If I do not return, remember you are still expected back with the healers before the curfew starts." She looked slyly at him her eyes flared as she walked away, back down the wide stairway, the corners of her mouth turned up in a half smile as if she was trying to disguise the expression.

He called after her. "What? What business, what is it? You jest with me P'Arcerial, I can see you have more to tell me, I can see it in those blue eyes of yours, you're playing with me."

She stopped and turned, then she giggled once more like a child trying to keep a secret unsuccessfully, "oh Petré, yes I have more news. The reason we go to see the Keepers is that my father has agreed to try and help you, help your world. At least see if anything can be done." A broad smile crossed her mouth as she looked at the stunned expression on his face.

"How? I mean how can this be? He wanted to suggest that they may have decided to send an army, perhaps even furnish them with weapons to counter the machines, but he remained quiet. Something inside of him suggested that this kind of help was probably not what she had in mind. Instead he just added, "how will you help?"

P'Arcerial strode back up the steps of the library entrance and standing once more before him took both his hands in hers and smiling kissed him upon his cheek and said, "How we will help is yet to be discussed and decided upon, that is why we seek the keeper's advice and perhaps also the advice of the other combined races. We shall see."

Petré felt excited, these people certainly had unique gifts and knowledge, perhaps they could help. But his mind darkened a little, they presumed to investigate aiding him on the whim of others without involving him. His own race, the race of men was at stake here, he must be part of these discussions. He grasped her arm. "But I must come to. I must accompany you to see the Keepers, surely I should be part of the discussions?"

"Please Petré be patient, I was not supposed to tell you any of this until things had become a little more solid and a rudimentary plan formulated, they may not agree to our proposal and I do not want to give you false hope. But I wanted to tell you, my father can be quite persuasive and he is greatly respected, I think we can look forward to something positive, something to strive for. Please I beg you stay quiet, if my father were to find out that you know, it may put the whole thing in jeopardy."

Again Petré complained, tried to put his case for involvement in the coming discussions, his voice became more heated with frustration as he increasingly sort to be included, demanded to be included.

P'Arcerial had shrunk back from him, people were starting to stop and stare, two T'Iea in the uniform of the city guard pushed through the crowd and came forward to the bottom of the library steps. P'Arcerial held up a hand to them and looked deeply into Petré's eyes. She waited until he had let go of her arm and then seizing his own arm in a similar manner, she steered him back into the library foyer, Petré winced at the strength of her grip upon his arm. Once inside she looked at him her eyes on fire, she hissed between her teeth, "Petré, you must trust me. Once I know more and my father has given me full permission to substantiate that which I have already divulged, then is the time to negotiate your part in all of this. In the meantime I implore you please keep this between us. Tell no other." Her eyes pierced his, her look had dissipated all of the anger he felt.

Petré fell silent under that piercing gaze, her grip upon his arm and the way her eyes burned, suggested something sinister, something he had not seen before in these people. He shrugged, more to make a point that he did not care, but he understood at least the need for some secrecy, he would not jeopardise this one chance to save his people and gain vengeance upon those who sort to destroy them. So in the end Petré agreed. Much had happened in the last few minutes and he had to allow these events to sink in, so after eventually waving P'Arcerial goodbye he shrugged his shoulders, turned and went further into the large building. P'Arcerial waited until he had disappeared before she turned and left, the two city guards, still at attention, saluted at her approach, her eyes indicated that all was well and they should return to their duties.

Petré brooded a while, but soon all thoughts of the last few minutes had dissipated, Petré's gasped at the sheer size of this place, shelves upon shelves of what looked like books hugged every inch of wall around the great circular room in which he now stood. The floor in front of him was dotted with many desks and chairs. Human kind had discovered much on their own and Petré knew many things. But he wondered what he would find here in the Library of the T'Iea. Perhaps many things that mankind so far viewed as more synchronous with science fiction than science fact, were to be found here as refined scientific theory and explained in what he assumed must be great detail. The only thing Petré feared was that perhaps most of it was far beyond his level of intellect and knowledge, but perhaps that was the fun of education.

He found himself wanting to learn, wanting to soak up this information whilst he had the opportunity. Perhaps if he knew more about the peoples that lived in this place he may find out how to ensure that they helped him and his kind.

## Chapter 12. Master Borhran

A few days later Petré walked once more into the library. He had not seen P'Arcerial, she had not been to see him. He chose a seat, the same he normally sat upon to view the screens that he knew could retrieve the information held within this vast knowledge base. P'Arcerial's responsibilities seemed to be growing and more and more of her time was spent away from the T'Iea city doing whatever it was that she had to do. He had decided not to seek her out, he remembered the way she looked at him on the library foyer a few days earlier, he had seen something in those eyes, something he did not care to see again. But he was still amazed at the willingness of these people to allow him unlimited access to their history, their knowledge, their secrets? He could not imagine that his own kind would allow such an 'open book' approach. No, they would jealously guard their knowledge, if they were considering allowing others access, then he was in no doubt that they would only give up such information if there was some kind of gain for them to do so, some kind of compensation or trade. Yet he supposed that he was but one man and he was not by any means an expert on any of the unknown sciences he was studying here. He was a mere technician and many things he had tried to read here surpassed his knowledge and probably even the combined knowledge of his races most academic scientists, if any such people still existed in the world. He shivered thinking about the episode in the meadow above the Silo. He wondered if the machines of war, or whatever created and controlled them would understand the information and science available here in this library. If it could then he hoped it would never get the chance to ever gain this knowledge.

On this particular day a figure sat opposite Petré at the console table facing his. At first Petré took no notice, being rather absorbed in his reading and his thoughts. The figure coughed once or twice and Petré glanced up, suddenly aware that another was sitting across the table from him. Petré's eyes stared at the figure, he had not seen such a person in all his time here within the T'Iea sanctuary.

The figure perhaps feeling Petré's eyes upon him also looked up and spoke in the common tongue. "I am sorry, I did not mean to disturb your reading." He rubbed at his throat below the chin. "I really must get this irritating cough seen to."

The figure was male, at least Petré assumed him to be. But there was no hair upon his head. In fact the figure had no visible body hair at all. He wore a sort of cloak, loose fitting and formless, the hood was thrown back across the figures shoulders, Petré could see the figures collar bone sticking through the pallid skin below his neck. Wide sleeves were drawn back and the hands and lower arms showed to the elbows, the figure had pulled up the long wide sleeves to enable free movement of his hands and fingers. The fingers had long nails, almost claw like, Petré gasped, the figures skin was waxy-white, in fact it looked like he had the complexion of porcelain, almost translucent, like a china doll. The eyes though were strange, the whole eye was that weird alien look he had seen from time to time, the blue in blue except for the little black hole in the centre which looked blacker because of the mass of blue surrounding it. Also this person's demeanour did not radiate a warmth, his eyes did not smile as P'Arcerial's did even though his mouth curled upwards at the corners. No these eyes had a hardness, almost a sterility about them. But one thing was similar to P'Arcerial's, they suggested great intelligence.

The figure stared at Petré curiously with head cocked to one side asked, "you are not T'Iea, indeed you do not seem to be from any of the combined races. Please forgive me for asking, but you are human are you not, from the world beyond?"

Petré was shocked at this question, he was not used to being referred to by his races collective name.

He stuttered a reply, "errr, yes, yes, I am actually."

The figure smiled faintly. Petré could almost feel the multitude of thoughts going on behind those eyes.

"Then I am pleased to make with your acquaintance. But forgive me my inquisitiveness; I have not seen a human here before."

Petré's curiosity was roused, he thought he knew who this person may be, what race he was from. P'Arcerial's descriptions suggested what race this person represented. He wanted to know more, he quickly spluttered a response, "I, err, I mean, I guess you are one of the Keepers?"

The figure pursed his lips and nodded in a circular fashion. "Yes, that is one name they call my people. Keepers some may call us, but our own name for our race is the Inu'Itil."

Petré remembered P'Arcerial's words on the subject, the Keeper stared at him awaiting a response perhaps. Petré could not think what next to say but he wanted to keep the conversation going so before he could stop himself he made the comment. "Some call you the Old Ones I believe?"

The figure seemed to stare into space for a second or two before adding, "you seem very informed. I doubt you obtained your information from knowledge gained in your own world." The figure seemed to frown, then smiling once again he added, "you are of course correct, some like to call us by that reference, I am sure I do not understand why. I like to think it refers to our exhibiting a very wise and distinguished disposition, a people to be revered for our knowledge perhaps" The Keeper looked expectantly towards Petré, he seemed to be waiting for an answer. When none came, he shrugged and said, "but I think perhaps I prefer the title of Keepers, it seems a somewhat kinder description, no?"

Petré relaxed a little, it seemed that this Keeper had a sense of humour at least, he smiled. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean any disrespect, I was only ..., well it was the T'Iea that have told me much and been my hosts. You are the first of the Keepers I have seen."

The Keeper shrugged and spoke wistfully. "Ah our friends the T'Iea, but of course." The Keeper seemed to mull on what he said for a while before saying, "well that may be because there are few of us on the star ship. At least compared to the other races that is. But there has always only been few of us, anywhere." The Keeper moved his arms slowly as if trying to enhance the idea of 'anywhere'. He then quickly added, "but I am so rude, I haven't introduced myself yet, my name is Borhran. Perhaps you would deem to tell me yours, I can't keep on calling you master human after all?"

Petré told Borhran his name. He told him how he had arrived here and spoke P'Arcerial's name several times in his explanation.

Borhran nodded The figure smiled once more and then leaning forward started to look at the screen in front of him once again.

Petré watched the bobbing bald head for some minutes before he said, "I'm sorry, I ,errr, well I was told your people flew this vast ship of the stars, you are the pilots," he remembered P'Arcerial's description. "The helmsman is how they refer to you?"

The figure looked up and smiled, "it would seem that our friends have told you much my friend, we are to have no secrets it seems?"

"Err. I am sorry I did not mean to cause you any embarrassment, it's just that ....."

Borhran's blue in blue eyes seem to bore into Petré's own, Petré found his words trailed off into nothing under the intensity of that stare.

But Borhran's eyes seemed to soften as he said, "well it seems that if our esteemed T'Iea friends see no wrong in allowing you this knowledge then who am I to be any more secretive?" He smiled broadly, "yes, helmsman indeed, but I think I would prefer us as being navigators more than pilots or helmsman. Navigators explains what we do in a more satisfactory way I feel." He leaned back in his chair and made a steeple with his outstretched fingers, he then beckoned Petré over to stand by him.

Petré stood and walked around to stand next to the Borhran. The Keeper gestured towards the screen in front of him.

Petré felt he was being invited to come and take a look at whatever it was that Borhran studied. He glanced at the screen the Keeper was looking at. He saw a picture of many stars, most had tagged information by the side of them, the characters that made up the words he did not recognise he assumed these to be in the Keeper's own written language. "So many stars." He said in wonder."

"Stars? No my friend these are not individual stars, these are individual galaxies, each comprising of many star systems. What you are looking at is a vast area of the outer voids many thousands upon thousands of light-centuries across." Borhran swiped his finger across the face of the screen and the picture started to rotate slowly giving a three dimensional look to the image.

Petré was taken aback. He stared more closely at the screen, this was impossible, how did they know this? To map this they must have first-hand knowledge of the position, size and relative distances between these systems, he knew they had extreme technological wonders at their disposal, but nothing had suggested to the extent of his suspicions. Petré was aware of some advanced theories relating to the physics involved in astronomy, he knew it would take thousands of lifetimes to undertake such a massive task and even then that would possibly only show a tiny proportion of what he looked at on this screen. Suddenly he was fully in awe of the knowledge and technology that these people possessed. He had always thought them to be very advanced, ever since he witnessed the weapon technology and afterwards their medical knowledge, the ability of these people to heal his terrible wounds that would have easily killed him if he were not taken aboard this star ship. But this was something entirely different; this was beyond his comprehension even though he understood the basic principles. He felt very small and somewhat insignificant.

Borhran pointed at the screen towards the edge of the cloud of bright spots and said, "this is your sector of the outer voids, I wanted to take a look at it because, well I shouldn't perhaps say as yet, but we want to remember your world so that we can return at any time in the future." Borhran moved his finger across the screen and the sector he was pointing at grew in size until it filled the screen. The cloudy looking bright blob on the screen slowly came into clearer focus as the keeper moved his finger further and further. A vast mass of individual star clusters could now be seen. There must be billions upon billions of stars filling the screen. They seemed to spiral outwards from a bright confused spot in the centre, it was as if the stars had all been flung outwards in a vast spiral from this central point.

Petré stared at the screen, a three-dimensional grid overlay the picture. It rotated this way and that, seemingly on its own so that the view projected upon the screen could be seen at different angles.

Borhran spoke, bringing Petré out from his trance like stare. "This is your galaxy, one of many we have visited over the millennia. Yours is quite young in comparison, human kind has not been around for very long when compared to others. Borhran continued to move his finger and the screen changed once again until Petré could see a much more detailed section of the star system. He looked closely for the sun and the planets that revolved around it, Petré was familiar with his own solar system, he stared hard at the screen, Saturn and Jupiter, the two gas giants would be obvious things to see first because of their size and characteristic physical features, but he could not make out either planet on the screen.

As if understanding Petré's confusion Borhran spoke, "ah, but you would not recognise any star fields from this scale I fear. Borhran poked his finger at a particular area of the screen and suddenly the picture shifted, a small area of the screen grew in size rapidly and centred around a particular group of stars, they appeared as just points of light. The Keeper pointed with one long fingernail at the screen. "Your solar system resides about here. Your sun as you would call it, resides in one of the outer arms. Here I will show you."

He tapped the screen once again. Once more the picture shifted, more and more individual stars showed the gap between them widening. The Keeper eventually pointed at a yellowish star in amongst many others. Petré looked at the insignificant little dot of light in the centre of the screen. Suddenly the dot seemed to grow in size as if they zoomed towards it at unimaginable speed. As they got nearer some of the larger planets could indeed be seen and eventually the screen moved again until it had the planet earth at its centre. "This is your world I believe."

Petré looked at the brown and red planet, yes he knew this to be the earth. He was shocked, from his studies this planet looked more like its neighbour Mars. Petré suddenly remembered the Earth of his teachings when he was a child, the green and blue, the beauty that was the earth many thousands of years ago, before the devastation that was caused by the war. Back then the planet had hues of green and white, with large areas of blue ocean, in fact the oceans took up most of the worlds surface. But now they were almost gone, the vast oceans had diminished to smaller puddles of their former glory and the green had all but disappeared except for a few places. He remembered his joy at seeing the meadows above the cistern, all that was left of the blue and green planet as was. He felt sad, sad that his race had destroyed their world, sad that the one place he could call his home upon that devastated world and the meadow that lay above it, was also gone. It was important to save what was left, important to allow natures processes to recover the planet, make it once more the green and blue of his lessons. He wondered how many of those meadows survived, how many little pockets of nature were clinging on to a precarious existence. He felt a feeling of urgency within him, it also raised a feeling of hatred towards those who would seek out those pockets with the express desire of destroying this last vestiges of the world of old.

But he shook of the melancholy feeling and gave in to his curiosity. "How do you know all this? I mean the map, all those stars and their positions?" Asked Petré almost as a whisper.

"By travel of course. We have spent much time travelling amongst the galaxy fields in this sector of the outer voids, this area was designated to this star ship long ago when we first started out, it is written in the command log of this vessel. Mapping is a slow process, but thousands of unmanned drones were sent out from this star ship, along with many others, to measure and map the surrounding voids. It takes many years to map even the smallest section of the outer voids. The whole spectacle is in constant flux and change and all of the stars and other large bodies move in the time that it takes. So it is not just a case of mapping but also plotting direction and speed of movement, but that alone is a small part of it, we must also take into consideration the affect that large bodies have upon each other. The larger the body, the larger the potential influence it exerts upon its neighbours. Stars are born and then they die, worlds suffer cataclysmic disasters. This happens very regularly in an area of this scale. We may not return to a certain part of the void for many thousands of years and in that time the star maps that we may have made would likely have changed dramatically. So much data must be collected so that many calculations can be made to ensure we have a reasonably accurate forecast picture of any area we may have visited and wish to return to. This area was mapped many thousands of your years ago. It was then that we discovered your world."

Petré felt numb, he had understood from P'Arcerial about this place being a star ship and how they had obviously been studying his world and the people upon it, but until just now it hadn't really sunk home exactly what the scope of what she suggested actually was. "So, how long have you been here then, I mean how long has this star ship been here, watching, waiting?"

Borhran smiled, he laughed to himself then playfully counted on his fingers like a child would do. "ah well, let me see, probably about nine, perhaps twenty thousand of your worldly years, give or take a couple of thousand." Borhran smile widened, he was obviously enjoying this.

Petré was aghast, speechless, but then in response to Borhran's smile he said, "master Keeper you jest with me."

Borhran laughed, "not at all young man. Not - at all."

Petré snorted, he had been called young man, in the eyes of this Keeper he must been a very young man indeed if he were to believe that the Keeper had been watching the earth for so long.

"But that's unbelievable, how can you be sure, I mean how many generations of your people have passed since you arrived?"

"Why none, I, like many of the peoples on this star ship have been here since our arrival. Oh I agree that some have perished for one reason or another and some have had offspring, that is the natural course of events."

Petré was in shock, how could this be, Borhran was suggesting that he and others, P'Arcerial included, were thousands of years old. Had they discovered something else in amongst their immense knowledge and technology? Had they discovered immortality? He just looked at Borhran in disbelief.

Borhran was smiling. "I see that this knowledge fills you with disbelief, you think I may be playing some kind of strange joke?"

Petré did not respond, he just looked at the Keeper, a deep frown on his face.

"You have to understand young man, the concept of time, as you may understand it from where you are from, does not necessarily collate to the concept of time on this star ship. Time here does not pass in the same way as does time upon your world. One day on your world does not equate to one day here on the star ship."

Petré looked suspiciously at Borhran. "What do you mean?"

Borhran sat back and waived one hand in front of him in a theatrical gesture. "I will try to explain. My people, the Keepers, well we have a skill. A natural ability, we can manipulate the natural physical makeup of things in a way that can influence the passage of time and space. You have seen the screen, I mentioned that many light years, even light centuries were represented there from one side to the other? To travel such great distances, well you can imagine perhaps that in normal time, the time you are used to, it would take many generations of our people to even travel across the smallest speck of the outer voids. I think this you understand?"

Petré thought about this then nodded his head in understanding. He wanted Borhran to explain further.

Borhran continued. "Normally the passing of time and distance travelled is bound by a set of criteria. For instance if I were to walk from here to the far wall over there, then it would take a period of measurable time. If I undertook the same journey but I ran instead of walking, the distance travelled would be exactly the same but the passage of time taken to make the same journey would be less?"

Petré nodded, this was simple enough to understand.

Borhran nodded. "Well if I were to keep my travel speed the same but be able somehow to draw the wall nearer to me, then I could travel the distance to the wall in less time?"

Petré nodded again, this also he could easily understand.

Borhran looked pleased. "But you understand that I could not draw the wall closer, it is impossible because it represents a fixed point. Yet, and this is where it becomes interesting, if I were to tell you that it is possible to bend the distance between here to the wall so that it remains the same physically in this plain, but becomes 'closer' in an alternative plain, and if we were to switch plains and travel in the alternative one then the alternative wall being nearer would mean that we could reach it sooner, even at the same speed?"

Petré took longer this time to think about what had just been said, but he eventually nodded convinced that he understood the concept at least.

Borhran seemed encouraged so he continued. "So if I were able to bend space and time so that the distance between ourselves and the wall was as infinitesimal as physically possible, then I could make that short journey almost instantaneously, the only governing factor would be the speed of light, for nothing can travel faster than that without introducing other less than controllable, or desirable results."

Petré spoke. "So what you are saying is that you have the ability to shorten the distances across what you call the voids? You can create a short cut, in fact shorten time itself?"

Borhran smiled, almost laughed, "just so young man yes, you have grasped part of the theory very well. That is why they call us the Keepers, we are to them perhaps, keepers of time. We can effectively slow time, or in fact speed it up depending on the relationship between space/distance and time. Effectively this means we can alter the passage of time. I can bend the route from one place to another; I suppose you could say we create a new, temporary route through the fabric of the inner voids. If we can bend distant points so they seem to be next door to each other, then obviously the length of time between them must also be shortened. As long as we know where we are going." Here he indicated the screen in front of which he sat. "That is the importance of having an accurate mapping system, you can imagine that if I created a short cut from information that was outdated by say several millennia then there would be a great risk of us crashing into something. But that mapping system alone is not good enough, if you are going to adjust pseudo-physical space then you must also adjust time within a recognised set of parameters, the two are linked and to break that link would mean catastrophe. The danger therefore comes when this time/space continuum is not kept inside those parameters. If this happens then stranger unpredictable things happen. Instead of moving forward we could conceivably move backward, but the past has already happened so moving backwards into it could have an undue effect on what is to come. Even the smallest change could have a ripple effect and greatly influence an alternative future."

Petré was just about keeping up at this stage, he nodded.

Borhran continued. "This star ship contains – powerful things, great sources of energy, in fact the most powerful source ever discovered, we are able to manipulate these powerful sources in such a way that makes us able to adjust the way that the physical universe behaves. The powerful things of which I speak can even capture the passage of light itself, slow the speed of light until it almost stops. Oh, light itself can never stop altogether you understand, that would be impossible and would most probably cause catastrophic problems for the same reasons I eluded to earlier. But we the Keepers can use these phenomena to our advantage. These powerful devices are how we can focus time and bend distances in pseudo-space/time, the whole space/time continuum you understand becomes flexible. On this star ship we have extended pseudo-time, flexing the continuum to the extent that we never actually reach our arrival point in time, in effect we never arrive at our destination however close we get. The effect is to elongate time, almost stop it altogether. Delay the inevitable if you like. That is why the star ship is invisible from your world; for it actually hasn't arrived yet and never will in a truly physical sense, that is of course unless we allow it. Effectively it remains within another space/time continuum of our own making."

Petré interrupted suddenly aware of something he remembered. "But P'Arcerial and others appeared in my world! They did arrive?"

Borhran fell silent, for a couple of seconds he looked although he was surprised at this revelation of Petré's. But he seemed to gather himself. "That is why our other skill is needed. We have another skill, we can create and use time capsules or portals, bridges if you like that span between, enabling passage from pseudo-time into real time and back again." He looked a little unsure of himself when he said, "that is how your T'Iea friends were able to go to your worlds space/time and return back here to the space/time of the star ship."

Petré's eyes glazed, he looked through Borhran. Thinking on what he had just been told. It all sounded a bit far-fetched. Yet something in him believed what the Keeper was saying, after all he had witnessed many things over the time he had been here, many things that perhaps if he was still in the Silo he would never have believed.

Borhran looked deep into Petré's eyes and asked a question. "What is the fastest thing in the universe Petré? What is it that travels faster than anything else?"

Petré thought for a while he wondered if this was a trick question, after all Borhran had already alluded to the fact that nothing travelled faster than light? But however hard he thought he could not come up with any alternative, he understood the answer to be light. So he answered, "light is the fastest, nothing travels faster."

Borhran nodded and pursed his lips. "Yes, in a way you are right, but even light travels at a fixed rate, even light takes a measurable and finite time to travel from one point to another for it travels in real time. But when the distances are sufficiently large even light may take many millions of your years to traverse that distance. The stars you see at night when you look up from your world, they are of course in essence many suns, just like yours, but much, much farther away. The light from even the closest one to your own sun and solar system takes a lengthy period of time to reach you. Every time you look at the night sky and at the stars you are looking into the past Petré. You are viewing history." He smiled letting this information sink into Petré's mind. "But there is something else, something even faster. Although it is a bit of an unfair comparison because unlike light this other thing, this other natural energy is already present everywhere, therefore unlike light it does not have to be generated and be restricted to any single time/space to get somewhere, for it is already present everywhere, in all times and in all spaces, in both real time and in pseudo time. This other energy of what I speak is omni-present, so strictly speaking it does not travel as does light. But under the right circumstances it does provide us a source of energy that allows us to practice the skills we have and to allow us almost instantaneous travel."

Petré hung on every word, what could this energy be? Something perhaps beyond the discoveries of mankind? He shrugged.

Borhran smiled. "Gravity Petré, gravity. It is everywhere, it exerts its forces in various strengths dependent upon mass and size of different things, but everything has within it sources of the presence of gravity however small and object. There isn't a single place in the outer or the inner voids in any space/time continuum that is not influenced in some form, great or small, by the forces of gravity."

Petré nodded his head slowly, he understood the concept of gravity and the forces it exerted, but he was still in the dark about where this conversation was going. "So you, the Keepers, can manipulate gravity?"

"Alas no, that skill belongs to others. But we can utilise gravity; follow its strands through space and time, track between one place and another using gravitational links. Gravity links everything together, not just the physical that we can see and touch, but the metaphysical as well. Gravity you see is not bound by physical space and time." The Keeper paused as if letting this statement sink in. "We the Keepers can visualise the paths that gravity takes as it flows from one mass to another and the time associated with those signatures, we can visualise the exertions of space and time upon each mass. Everything Petré has an inbuilt amount of gravity, the amount of energy present is directly proportional to the exact mass of the object, this is not related to physical size however and that is important to remember if you are to study this further. Every object is very individual, we can measure it down to the molecular level, we call the individual gravity associated with any body, a signature, in effect everything has its own unique gravitational signature. Using these unique patterns we can navigate across the voids. Especially if we have a signature beacon to lead us there. But as I said, we are able to manipulate these relationships between time and space, especially if our abilities are vastly amplified using the energy sources present here on the star ship. So you see, that is why we can configure the passing of time upon this star ship to be relative to anywhere we wish. I said before, the passage of time here in relation to your world is very different. In fact a short period of time spent here could equate to many years on your world."

Petré was suddenly aware of a thought, he spluttered, "But then, I mean how long have I been here, how long, I mean how many days? How much time has passed on the earth from which I came?"

Borhran shrugged his shoulders, "I do not know I'm afraid, I do not know how long you have been here as I have only just met you."

Petré was on his feet and striding for the exit of the library back out into the city. He needed to find P'Arcerial, needed to understand how long he had been here, needed to know how much 'real' time had passed back on his world. But he slowed as another thought came into his mind. It didn't really matter, for everyone he knew was dead anyway, killed in the attack, it made no difference at all how much time had passed, for he would have no one to go back to anyway. But he kept going and left the building.

Borhran watched him go. The smile on his face widened slowly and then after looking around the vast room as if to make sure no one witnessed his smile, his face changed slowly to a frown. He sat back down on the chair not taking his eyes from Petré's back until the human passed from his view. His eyes darkened as he returned to viewing the picture on the screen. The screen changed from a picture of the stars to a list of words. It was a list of names with descriptions of each person listed and the rank or function they performed. He traced the passing list with his eyes until he came to one name, a T'Iea name. The list stopped and Borhran stared at the screen. He said under his breath "T'P'Arcerial". He was glad that in the T'Iea society it was traditional for all individuals to have a unique given name, so this one was particularly easy to find. The T'Iea had broken one of the combined races fundamental rules, they had made informal contact with the indigenous species of a world not yet within the enclave of the combined races. The T'Iea they had acted alone and it would seem that the main culprit was a high ranking officer, the highest in fact, only outranked by her own father. He looked once more towards the doorway through which Petré had just exited the library. First though he must find out more, find out why such an act was perpetrated, be sure of the weight of evidence that he had.

## Chapter 13. Escaping the Epidemic

The Entity felt pleased. The war drones were systematically attacking the human enclaves in the western desert region. Reports were coming in that many such human outposts were now destroyed. The Entity inwardly smiled, some of the humans within the Silos took it upon themselves to self-destruct their own Silos, before the Entity's weapons had the chance to release their attack. But the Entity did not care, the end result was the same after all. In the meantime it was content to let its machines carry on with the task they had been given, the Entity trusted that they would carry out its orders to the full and with their usual upmost clinical efficiency.

With that task underway, the Entity had now started to turn its thoughts to a very different problem, one that had long plagued its digital thoughts. The Entity now knew the downfall in using biological components within its machines of destruction. The Entity had inadvertently introduced unpredictability and made those drones prone to influence from like-minded organisms. These organisms must be the humans in the east, they had discovered a way of influencing the drones, infected them with something, far too many were being sent back not as ally's but as spies for the men of the east, undertaking sabotage for the enemy. The more that were infected, the faster the disease spread. The whole thing had gotten to epidemic levels. At first the Entity had stopped all the drones, those that were infected and not infected alike from leaving the fortress, but that had not worked, the infected ones found ways of getting past the confining defenses. Once an escape route had been found, it was immediately exploited by the drones, the breach would be shut by the Entity, but the infected drones always found another way out. The entity was having to spend far too much time confining the infection that the drones were causing. But it had yet to find a reliable way of finding out which drones were affected. The Entity could order all the drones destroyed, but that would mean a greater risk, the Entity would be defenseless whilst it rebuilt its forces and with so few humans surviving in the world the source of biological components was rapidly drying up. Every time the Entity found a reliable decoder that singled out the infected drone, that drone transmitted the fact to all the others which immediately started to adapt, to evolve, to fool the decoder. For the first time in all its existence the Entity experienced a real potential threat to its very existence, ironically not from an external enemy, but from within its own impenetrable domain. The Entity calculated the infections growth would soon get out of control, beyond a cure, the Entity had to concede it would end up fighting a losing battle.

The Entity had to make a decision. After much thought and calculation it came to the conclusion that its survival was reliant on one action. It would have to abandon the citadel, it would have to leave behind the infection along with all the remaining drones trapped within and destroy its home.

First it would manufacture a flight of war drones that it always kept close to itself, kept them quarantined from all the other drones, operating separately with a different operating and communications system, all to ensure that their biology could not be corrupted in any way. Then when the time came and they were ready the entity would leave the citadel, something it had never done since the time of its creation. It would be a risky business. Firstly transferring itself inside a drone and outside the safety of the citadel, the entity would be helpless, completely reliant upon the flight of drones it flew with. If the enemy discovered this and was able to attack, that would pose an insurmountable risk. It thought about replicating itself and leaving the replica somewhere, but where? But it quickly abandoned the idea, the irony was that it did not trust itself, did not trust that the replica would continue to behave as the entity intended, it would have no control over what the replication was doing. It may behave subversively to its creator. No, it would have to risk all, risk destruction in order to gain further knowledge and to beat the infection. It felt that its success would be well worth the risk, it may even lead the Entity to a newer higher level of existence and understanding and finally enable it to complete the task its human creators had designed it for, its task of total destruction.

So it would repackage itself into a mobile state, finally abandon the fortress that it had built for itself. It had a carefully selected a transport that it had nurtured from the start, a single drone it had kept in strict isolation. So the day had come, all perpetrations had been made and at last the Entity and all its trusted machines now flew into the east. What the Entity would find there it did not know, but it could not resist the challenge to find out. The citadel had been destroyed once the entity and its flight were sufficiently far enough away. It was unfortunate, a large proportion of its available drones had also been destroyed, along with the facility for drone manufacture, but it couldn't risk allowing any of this to fall into the hands of the enemy. No, it had no choice but to find the source of the infection and destroy that, otherwise how else could it rebuild its facility and begin its work once again.

The Entity now flew in its prepared drone with its accompanying body guard. For the first time in its life it was not confined in one physical place. There was something else that the Entity had come to realise, something it may not have thought of if the current crisis had not forced it into this risky action. The Entity did not have a physical body, it was hosted by machines, but in theory it didn't need the machines to play host, it could also survive within any type of suitable energy field, one that was able to incorporate and sustain its digital nature and its vast memory. It had realised it needed more, it needed to grow, to evolve, and it couldn't do that any longer within the confines of the fortress, using mere machines to be its eyes and ears and arms and legs. So it was also a logical step to move, to relocate, to find something better in the way of a host, something that would allow the next stage of the Entity's evolution. It looked out over the world directly through the light receptors of the drone in which it flew. It had never 'seen' before, experienced the true physical nature of the world. What it saw, the Entity viewed with great interest and excitement.

There was a firm medium below it sometimes this turned into a semi-firm substance that moved of its own accord unlike the firm medium which did not move or sway like the other. But both seemed to be comprised mainly of similar matter in varying degrees. Above there was a far less dense medium through which it flew. Then far above that this medium thinned until it was no more, up there the sensors of the drone could detect very little apart from individual points of bright light energy. But there was one massively powerful source of energy, the spectrums of which were extremely varied. At first the Entity thought this may be a good host for its future survival, but then it became apparent that much of the energy spectrum being radiated from this source was heat and other dangerous emissions, not somewhere the Entity could survive without a lot of excessive shielding. An alarm sounded, the entity was forced to instruct the drone to fly back down to a lower altitude for the biological components within it showed a massive increase in levels of stress the higher the drone flew until eventually the cells within the biological components started to break down and cease to function correctly. Obviously the higher the altitude the more the environment became detrimental to biological components.

Its experiments within this new medium over, the Entity now flew over the eastern lands, unlike the western one this firm medium was covered in an almost unending biological substance, a massive area of the material spread out beneath the drones. The entity found its curiosity aroused, it instructed the drone fly around haphazardly, it searched the medium below for anything and everything, it could detect biological cell structures of infinite variety and chemical form. Most were very different from the human structures it was used to. These cells were based upon an entirely different range of raw material. But occasionally moving through or beneath these structures the entity could detect similar cell structured components to that of the human types. It had difficulty in finding them at first for they moved quickly. But eventually it had found a larger biological node that although could move fast, did not have the agility of the smaller ones or the ability to hide beneath the blanketing cellular structure of the first form it had discovered. This larger component stood in front of the drone now. The entity perceived a large mass of cellular structure, very complex and like the humans based upon familiar elemental components, H20 and C for the most part. It was bizarre looking with a large head out of which sprouted two long lengths of cells that branched in places. The creature had a complex neural system but this was nothing like the equivalent found in humans, no this one did not have anywhere near the same capability.

Some hours later the Entity was concentrating hard. The Entity used the light receptors of the drone in which it travelled to detect many forms of radiation. It slowly flicked through the spectrum starting at the very high frequencies. At first not much could be detected. Mainly this comprised of the microwave data communication signals between the drones that escorted it. There were also the odd spurious energy flows it had experienced before, but these were mainly random energy from far beyond the altitude that the entities drone could safely fly, although much of this energy rebounded off the natural atmosphere of the world back out into the empty voids, but some of the superfast particles got through. The Entity continued to scan down the frequency spectrum until it reached the lower frequencies. Here most of the now visible energy spectrum could be seen. But there was something else. Strands of high energy, low frequency power could also be seen flowing in an around the chaos of different prismatic colours and other visible radiation. It appeared like vast waves to the drone's receptors and it bent and curved around anything and everything that it came across. The Entity marvelled at how even the drones that flew alongside it seemed to bend the energy around their hulls. But then it had detected a similar concentration of the same energy source, but like nothing it had experienced so far. Weak and far off at first, the Entity could feel the energy growing the closer it got. It was already intoxicating. Something very ancient and of unbelievable power lay somewhere amongst this mass of firmament energy. The Entity would find it, had to find it, discover what its nature was and if it could be used, even overcome. The Entity somehow knew this was the power it sort, it turned its attentions towards finding the source of this very low frequency energy. It ordered the other drones to switch to this detection mode it gave them the detection frequency and sent them away to great distances so that as many triangulations could be made to give some accurate idea of the geographical position of the source.

It had not taken long. The exact geographical position of the energy source had been pinpointed and now the entity and its entourage of personal guard flew an intercept course.

## Chapter 14. Many Answers, Far more Questions

Petré sat upon the steps outside the great library. He had to get some air, what he had just learnt, what Borhran the Keeper had told him, well it had shaken him to the core. It wasn't the fact that other races from beyond his world existed, that they could control what he thought uncontrollable. No, what really unnerved him was that these others had been watching, studying the human race for so long and if this was the case, why had they not intervened before, they could have stopped the war, stopped humanity's attempts at self-destruction? He frowned, a feeling of anger came into his heart, these people had played a fateful game, stood back and studied them to see what happened, watched as his race destroyed themselves. He clenched his fists, these people, they were the arrogant ones, unfeeling, without compassion. But the anger faded, he thought of P'Arcerial, he was including her in this sentiment and however hard he tried to find excuses to prove to himself otherwise, he knew deep down that she was not like that, she did have compassion, she had saved him, saved his life that day in the meadow and despite his terrible injuries the skills of her people had made him well again.

He sighed, no the T'Iea where not arrogant, at least not in that manner, they had helped, they would help again, of that he was sure. P'Arcerial had spoken of a meeting, she had hinted at help in establishing a recovery of the natural order in his world. But how? How could they do it, it would take millennia, probably many ages. He shook his head, certainly it would not happen in his lifetime. But then something else came to the fore of his mind. Borhran had spoken of this ability to adjust the passing of time, so perhaps this had something to do with their plan, was that why P'Arcerial had to meet with the Keeper's? Maybe he would see that joyful day if he stayed aboard the great star ship and lived outside the world's time clock? He began to get excited. If the entire world looked like the meadow above the Silo once more, that was worth any amount of dabbling with time, wasn't it?

He looked up at a gentle touch upon his shoulder, there stood P'Arcerial a slight look of concern upon her face. He looked into her eyes, she smiled down at him but said nothing.

He sighed and stood, she was dressed as she had been the first time they met upon the meadow. She had the hood of her cloak thrown back over her shoulders. She had most probably been back into the world of men, his world. He wanted to ask her things, but he found he was deeply afraid of what she may tell him. Afraid that a disaster may have befallen his race whilst he languished within this star ship, perhaps his race had finally succumbed to the machines of war and now he was the only human left, marooned here until he died and his race died with him.

He looked back in the direction of the library doors. He was reticent to divulge what the Keeper Borhran had said to him, the differences in the passage of time between here on the star ship and the world from which he came. But he found himself speaking. "I met someone, there in the library. He told me ..... things."

Again P'Arcerial said nothing, although in her mind she wondered what could have been said to bring Petré into such melancholy mood.

But he had to get some clarification, needed deep down to know, so suddenly he smiled at her and said, "How do they do that?"

"What? And Who" asked P'Arcerial, she cocked her head slightly to one side.

"The Keepers, they control the passage of time?"

P'Arcerial seemed surprised. "A Keeper?" She looked up the steps to the library entrance "you met a Keeper here in the library." That was very unusual, she hadn't seen a Keeper in the T'Iea quarter for an age, they had their own access to the central library from within their sanctuary, they insisted upon it, for they did not like to venture beyond their sanctuary unless absolutely necessary. The only reason to come here would be to seek something that was specific to the T'Iea. She quickly shrugged this off not wanting to cause Petré any concern so she quickly said. "Ah, yes, I see. Well the Keepers you remember I said they have a special skill? Well that skill is due to their enriched mental capacity. You will find this most peculiar Petré, but unlike the anatomy of the other races, including your own where the neural centre, the brain, is to be found within the skull, the Keepers bodies have evolved in such a way that their brains are no longer in their heads, they would not fit, their brains grow within their chests. What remains in their heads has also evolved, their craniums now contain a second neural organ, probably their original brains but evolved for another purpose."

Petré was in disbelief, yet another peculiar fact to try and accept, now a race of beings with two brains! "So is that how they control these star ships, by manipulating them through space using these adapted minds of theirs?"

P'Arcerial said, "yes, at least that's my understanding; for I, like you, cannot completely understand the way this works, for we are not made like them. But in essence, yes I think you are correct. When navigating, the mind of the Keeper is connected into the working heart of the star ship, the thought patterns that the navigator projects are amplified many fold by the systems in the star ship and in this way time and distance are manipulated to our advantage. But if you want a technical explanation for the star ships systems then you must approach the Pnook I'm afraid."

Petré was stunned. Once again he found his thoughts straying back to the conversation with Borhran, again he became worried that even though the timing was different, the passage of time may have moved onwards in the world and it may even now be too late to do anything. There was something he had to know, even if he dreaded to hear the answer, but he knew that unless answered it would worry him until and answer was found. Petré turned towards P'Arcerial he looked at her. "The Keeper said that time passed differently here when compared to the time on my world. He suggested that the time passing here was in no way linked with the time that actually passed beyond this star ship?"

P'Arcerial looked into his eyes a sparkle shone in her own blue orbs as she smiled broadly, "ah so that's it. You are worried that whilst you languished here recovering, your world may have passed beyond our help, perhaps have even been destroyed already."

She had voiced the very thing that worried him, he frowned, if she knew what was upsetting him why had she not volunteered the information before. He became afraid, scared that she had not told him because it would be news that she knew would devastate him?

P'Arcerial took both his hands in hers like she often did when she was about to explain something and wanted to ensure she had his complete attention. "Petré, it is true, the passage of time is different here, but not like that, it is not as you fear. Perhaps the Keeper did not explain sufficiently well. Whilst you are here on the star ship, the passage of time for you is also here, that is obvious. But it is true, the passage of time here has no link with the passage of time in your world. I think you will find that if, or when, you go back into your world, the actual elapsed time within the world will have been very short. In fact hardly anytime would have passed by in comparison."

"But I must have been here for some time, my wounds would have taken a long time to heal, I must have been here for months at least have I not?"

P'Arcerial nodded her head, "in your measurement time, based on the passage of your world around its sun, you have been here within the star ship just over one of your years."

Petré sat back down upon the steps and buried his head in his hands.

P'Arcerial sat by his side. "Petré, a year has passed by here on the star ship, but like I said there is no link to the passage of time in your world. If you were to go back into your world, you would return almost to the instant that you left." She looked a little hesitant before continuing. "But there is something else, you would still be an actual year older, for we have not permanently linked your body clock to that of the star ship."

He looked up from his hands, looked into her face. "How can this be?"

P'Arcerial stood and grasping one hand gently pulled him to his feet. "Remember the Inu'Itil, the Keepers Petré? Well this ability to shift between this star ship and the world, places in time we call planar nodes, they can adjust lapses in time, they can speed it up or slow it down relative to other planar nodes. It is the only way that we can survive the long journeys that we make. But remember always, time must march onwards Petré, the Keepers cannot travel within time, forward or backward, the Maker is the only one that exists outside of time itself, for he created time. But he gave the Keepers the skill and understanding to adjust the speed at which relative time passes."

Petré looked at her a stunned expression on his face. What she said was similar to what Borhran had tried to explain to him, but wasn't sure yet what the ramifications of all this were. Then something did dawn on him, "but if I still age here when time back in my world has not advanced then I will be out of synch with my world?"

"She looked solemn, "yes Petré, it is true, unless we ask the Keepers to adjust your body clock to that of the star ship, your body will carry on as if nothing had changed. I'm sorry Petré, to meddle with your body clock, well I feared that would not be a good thing. Only if you were going to stay on board for the rest of your life would we do that and only then with your consent."

He did not know what to think, if very little time would have passed in the world, he had to get back, he needed to check on what may have happened to the Silo, needed to check what may still be going on there, or about to happen. "But how will I return, if the star ship is in a different planar node to my world?"

She clung onto his arm and drew him closer to her and laughed, "we always saw a time Petré when you would return to your own world." She giggled, "if only you could see the expression upon your face my friend! Whenever you are ready to go back, I can take you. We can travel through the halls of passage, there is a permanent link there between the star ship and the meadow where I found you, a portal can be opened at any time, just like a door between us and your world."

Petré remembered that Borhran had also spoken of the other skill they had, the knowledge of how to link between planar nodes. He mentioned this to P'Arcerial.

She nodded her head. "Yes, quite so. As long as the Key, that is the Keeper responsible for that particular link, knows the destination relative to time and space, they can create a gateway, a portal to that destination. They can also permanently write that link into what they call a key stone. The memory of the link can be transferred into a special mineral, a material that is very sensitive to the flow of the arcane. Such key stones can be programmed in many ways dependant on the nature of the link that is being made."

"So the Keepers could programme a keystone that linked from here into my world?"

"She giggled. "Yes they could quite easily. But key stones can be bi-directional Petré, we could I suppose furnish you with one that would enable travel back and forth as many times as you wished. But, we would probably not do that, I hope you acknowledge the security risk involved in such a thing if it were to fall into the wrong hands for instance?"

She was right of course. They would be foolish to give such casual access to the star ship. But before he could ask any more questions P'Arcerial spoke once more." Come, we have a meal waiting at my father's villa." She towed him away down a street. "Perhaps it is time you left your cell in the hall of the healers? We can furnish you with far more comfortable quarters I think."

They walked in silence; Petré was still trying to understand what he had been told. As usual P'Arcerial greeted those they passed, but he did not see or acknowledge any individuals, he didn't even remember the journey from the library to where he now stood outside a grand mansion at the end of a lengthy boulevard. Large villas stood back from the roadway, gated within their own grounds. The grounds were beautiful, gardens adorned with all manner of growth, even more varied and colourful that the meadow above the Silo. Petré could only gape at such ostentatious luxury. These things were beyond his experiences.

The inside of the mansion to which he was led proved to be as lavish as the outside, they had entered through wide doors into a tidy entrance area with a cool stone floor of dark grey marble flecked through with silver and gold. The walls were hung with tapestries depicting various landscapes. Surprisingly they didn't look to be of T'Iea design or making. These landscapes where mostly concerned with wide vistas of snow-capped mountains topped by a rich blue and cloudless sky. At their foothills and lower slopes lay deep and undulating picturesque alpine valleys. Towering water falls of white water cascaded over rocky outcrops pock marked with green shrubbery, lengthy fronds of which hung down emulating the cascades of white water and catching the watery mists that permeated everywhere. The waterfalls poured forth into deep dark blue lakes carved out of the landscape in a time of ice and glaciers. Beyond the turbulent waters at the base of the falls these lakes reflected the sky and the mountains that surrounded them within their motionless, clear mirrored surfaces. In some tapestries figures stood overlooking the alpine meadows and waterfalls, or sat in groups upon the rocky outcrops, they seemed to be enjoying the vistas, for they all had a casual air, they could perhaps just be intent upon passing the time of day.

Some figures leant against trees or upon each other; others were depicted lying on one elbow amongst the lush flowering greenery, smoking nonchalantly upon clay pipes. They all seemed to be surveying the landscape with the utmost certainty that this was theirs, this was where they to belonged. They seemingly justified their belief in their absolute right to stand within these landscapes. Most of these figures were heavily armoured in plate steel, they carried axes, broad double-bladed weapons of battle and had tall efficient looking helms upon their heads, or cradled beneath their arms. All had long beards ornately twisted or tied into intricate designs with numerous metal objects or precious stones weaved within them. Petré recognised these people immediately, he whispered "Grûndén" under his breath.

P'Arcerial smiled and nodded. "Yes, before I was born my father and mother spent much time as envoys to the Grûndén, these were gifts to him from those people when their time with them came to an end."

Petré continued to look at the tapestries. In all the pictures tall pines grew everywhere and beneath them where the sunlight could reach the forest floor grew flowers of all colours, plants of the type typically found in such alpine meadows. In one tapestry a massive, heavily muscled male Elk bedecked with a towering crown of antlers stood on a rocky peninsula high on a mountainous outcrop. His head was thrown back and up, his eyes wild, his mouth open bellowing his regal position over all of his dominions. He exhaled a misty breath with his command. He seemed to be daring any to challenge his authority.

The T'Iea, P'Arcerial's people obviously loved art and everything artistic, even practical things like furniture and household implements were not just designed for the functionality of the object but also lavishly adorned with designs meant to please the eye. He found himself stopping to look at, or pick up some item or other, even just run his hands across some delicate ornate surface.

Upon the walls of every room they passed through, many tapestries depicting towns and cities where hung. Avenues and boulevards of white stone houses, men and women strolling through the streets in sumptuous clothing. Tall, fortified towers and strongly built walled citadels. In between these tapestries, many pictures hung. Mainly these were portraits of T'Iea, in one picture two smiths laboured in front of a furnace, one held a hammer high, his exertions had loosened the clasp that held his waist length hair behind his head, fronds of hair seemed to swing madly in front of his face, swirling around in the heat from the forge. The other T'Iea was stripped to the waist, his muscular torso covered in sweat and dirt, he held the blade of a sword in a pair of tongs the metal glowed dull red. He steadied the blade flat upon an anvil awaiting the next blow of the hammer. Another portrait showed two soldiers dressed much like P'Arcerial, they were relaxed, in light mood chatting whilst standing in woodlands. They leaned upon long bows crafted from some white wood, both had hoods thrown back from their heads, there facial features could be seen smiling and joking.

Another door led from this room, it already lay open. Petré approached and deeply curious he stood upon the threshold and looked beyond. Here was a sumptuously warm and comfortable looking living room. A big room, containing a good many items of furniture. Several tall book cases full of tomes and thick volumes stood upon a slightly raised platform around which ran a hand rail set upon ornately twisted wooden spokes. Fine silk panels filled the gaps between the spokes onto which had been painted various T'Iea figurines. Mainly richly dressed people of indeterminate vocation, but probably aristocratic in their heritage. A large leather topped writing desk faced a large, floor to ceiling stained glass window that seemed to dominate the room. The window depicted a tall T'Iea man in long flowing robes; he looked up towards his raised hands. Petré couldn't actually see his hands for they were obscured by bright rays of light, natural light that shone through the window, but cleverly worked into the picture itself, for it looked although the light was emitted from an orb that the figure was obviously holding aloft.

"Oh, I am sorry my lady I did not hear you return, can I get you anything, tea perhaps?"

Petré was startled by the voice, he turned to see a T'Iea woman in smart dress, an embroidered apron tied around her waist, a cloth in her hand that she was obviously using to clean various ornaments that lay around the space.

P'Arcerial turned to address the woman, "hello Tu'Lee, no I am sorry I was not expected home, please carry on with your duties. We have a guest, but I will show him to the guest rooms myself. Perhaps if you see my father you can announce our arrival?"

The girl Tu'Lee looked at Petré, he didn't detect any kind of surprise or any other response, she just curtsied and said, "of course my lady."

Beyond this room another doorway led to a wide stairway. Petré was led upstairs and down a long corridor, many doors hinted at rooms behind them. P'Arcerial seemed to spend some time considering something before she clapped her hands together and led him to a door. She opened it and led him through into a small but comfortable bedroom. "Do you like this room, you are welcome to stay here?"

Petré was so stunned by the splendor of the room he said nothing, it was so immeasurably more luxurious than anything he had experienced in his life, he was speechless.

"Oh, perhaps I misjudged you, I thought you would like this room. There are others, larger ones if you prefer? Come I will show you."

Petré was brought back from his awe by a tug on his arm. "No, no, this is fine, anything bigger would make me uneasy."

"Well if you are sure."

"Yes, yes, quite sure."

"I will leave you then, when you are ready come back downstairs, my father and I will await you there. If you need anything you only need to ask Tu'Lee, she will know where everything is. You will find clothing in the wardrobe, clothing of many styles, choose anything you like if you wish to change. I will leave you in peace, I will return later when it is time to eat." She turned and walked back down the corridor only to stop when another of the doors opened. P'Arcerial gave a screech of delight and stepped back allowing a T'Iea man and woman to exit. But it was what was in the woman's arms that surprised Petré, although he didn't know why. The woman was cradling a baby and much discussion went on in the T'Iea language. P'Arcerial was holding out her hands and the baby was given to her, she immediately started cooing, cradling and rocking the baby in her arms. These three were obviously old friends and Petré decided to walk into his room and leave them to it. He couldn't understand what was being said very well, they spoke in their native T'Iea, all he picked up was the babies name, a simple name compared with most T'Iea, just two syllables that sounded like Solin.

That evening found Petré, P'Arcerial and her father D'Annu'Elle sitting together at a large table within the house. The two had been conversing in their own language for some time. They had excused themselves beforehand to Petré, not wanting to appear rude or secretive. D'Annu'Elle had told Petré that they wished to discuss various things that only their own language included the necessary vocabulary. Petré just said he didn't mind, he owed them so much he felt that he was not in a position to take offence, he felt none anyway. He contented himself on sipping the fine drink in the ornate glass that had been poured for him. Wine it was called, he had never tasted anything like it before and it seemed to be having a relaxing effect upon him. Instead he contented himself by wandering around the lavish room, picking up the odd trinket or ornament. Some things were expected, but everything was far more lavish than anything he was used to. Cut crystal glasses and other fine examples of a craftsman's works, but also there were the unexpected. There upon a small side table was the perfect little porcelain figure of a T'Iea woman in fall skirts and ornate bodice. It attracted him because he was sure he saw her eyes follow him as he walked passed. The little figure was beautiful, both the sculptured and painted detail lavished upon the figurine was breath-takingly life-like. He picked the figure up and was rewarded by the tinkling of a bell, he upturned the figure, there beneath the skirt was a small brass ball on a chain that made the most melodious sounds when the figure was shaken gently form side to side. He smiled, what possible purpose did this have? He replaced the figure upon the table but stood aghast as the little T'Iea woman frowned and wagged her finger at him as if chastising his intrusion upon her modesty. But then she smiled and curtsied low in a most formal attitude, her full skirts bunching up around her waist, she stood once again a smile on her face before becoming the small porcelain figurine once again.

He was astonished, not really sure he had actually witnessed what had just happened. He was brought back from this entertainment by the girl Tu'Lee standing by looking expectant. She smiled and curtsied to him and then waited. He didn't know what to say, but a touch upon his wrist took his attention. P'Arcerial was looking at him a faint smile upon her features. D'Annu'Elle was also scrutinising him, a wine glass also in his hand. P'Arcerial smiled at Tu'Lee and shook her head slightly, the girl turned after curtsying once again and left the room.

Petré spluttered. "I'm sorry, err sorry I was thinking of other things, please forgive me."

No one offered any words so Petré decided to ask the first question that came into his head. "You have a fine home here T'D'Annu'Elle it is beautiful, do all T'Iea live in such splendour and luxury?"

To his surprise his question was not answered, instead D'Annu'Elle's facial expression remained unreadable, he stood and walked around the table to where Petré stood. "Petré, if you had the opportunity, would you have your world returned to a time before the war? Perhaps a time even further back in history, when perhaps your world looked more like the meadow above the Silo as you call it?"

Petré was astonished at the question, was this an offer? Where T'D'Annu'Elle and the T'Iea going to offer aid after all, offer weapons perhaps to battle the machines of war? But then it occurred to him that perhaps they offered something else, perhaps the time shifting keepers could find a way to turn back the clock, change history for the better? He looked at P'Arcerial and said, "but you said that time could not be changed back, you could not move backwards or forwards through time, the keepers could only slow down the passing of time or speed it up?"

D'Annu'Elle smiled, I'm sorry Petré, perhaps I used words that mislead. What I mean is would you welcome the opportunity to put in process a series of 'future' events that could repair your world, make it as it was when natural balanced forces ruled over its condition."

Petré thought. What was it they were asking, he was confused, he had only known a world like that into which he was born. That was the norm for him. What were they suggesting? Eventually he asked. "I don't understand, what is it you ask of me, please explain more?"

The two T'Iea stood and asked Petré to follow. They led him out of the room and into a long corridor. Like every other corridor and room he had been in, the walls of this corridor were hung with many coloured cloths. D'Annu'Elle waved a hand across the wall as if gesturing to him to look more closely at what hung upon the walls. He saw faces, of T'Iea both male and female, different faces depicted in different clothing and under different circumstances he presumed. He moved slowly along the corridor looking at each picture as it appeared in front of him. What was it they meant to show him? All he saw was the mundane, but then it occurred to him, they were showing him exactly that, the mundane. The way of life, true life? He had spent his entire life inside the Silo, hidden away, in fear of discovery and death, his whole lifestyle perverted into one of false existence. He himself had hoped for something different, that was why he went up to the meadow every year, to see for himself exactly what he saw in these pictures. Then he bumped into P'Arcerial, she and her father had stopped at a particularly large picture. He stared at it. No portraits of T'Iea here but a picture of a landscape, at least that was what he thought he saw. He gasped for at the bottom of this picture coloured dots appeared amongst fronds of green, he stared at a meadow, much like his meadow above the Silo, surrounding the cistern. In the distance a forest grew, but the trees were enormous and appeared to be golden in colour. He had never seen trees on his home world, but he had read books and seen pictures of trees. But even the largest of the now extinct growths would appear as mere saplings when standing next to these vast forms. But something tugged at him, something tore at his heart. Tears welled in his eyes, he sniffed and wiped the wetness away with the back of his hand.

P'Arcerial grasped his hand gently a sorrowful look upon her face. She turned to look at the picture. "This tapestry depicts a view of where the T'Iea came from Petré. This is a reminder of our home world, or at least part of it. She went on to explain various things on the tapestry. Pointed out the villages of houses supported high above the ground within the massive branches of the trees she called the S'Apli'Baum. Vast living things that drew mineral sustenance from the ground below and sunlight energy from the sky above. She explained how they grew to enormous sizes. She showed him a river of water flowing through the landscape and a lake in the distance, a massive pool of water in which creatures lived, fish that were good to eat, along with other natural bounty like fruits and animals and roots and many other things that he found he could not take in. She told him how his world had once looked similar to this, not the same for the fauna and flora that grew in this place may not survive on his world, or if they did they may not grow or evolve in perhaps the same way.

Her voice faded into quiet, he concentrated on the picture alone, just let his eyes feast upon the overload of visionary information that was portrayed. P'Arcerial must have realised he was not listening at some stage, for when he eventually turned to her and allowed his ears to hear once again she was quiet. "But where is this place? Why don't you live there, it is wonderful, beautiful."

P'Arcerial nodded, the place in the picture is called Ter'Fin'Ealle, it is a town, typical of most T'Iea dwelling places. But the world in which it can be found is far from here, far across the outer voids. Perhaps one day we will return there, for that place is where all T'Iea hearts lead.

Petré just stared at her, "so this is where you came from, where you were born? I mean before you embarked on your journeying in the star ship?"

P'Arcerial looked at her father, they stared at each other, Petré could see sadness in both their eyes. "No, we were not born there Petré. None of the T'Iea on this star ship have ever seen Ter'Fin'Ealle or our home world of Had'Sn'Efel, the void ball, on which the T'Iea made their home. She looked down at her hands and grasping them together said, "perhaps such a place does not exist any longer, or perhaps there are T'Iea still there living as this tapestry shows. Maybe we will go and see, one day. My heart asks me to do so, for that is where my soul resides, that part of me that is wholly of the Maker resides there still in Had'Sn'Efel, the place that the Maker created for us."

Petré felt her sadness, yet also felt a hope within her, a hope that one day she would perhaps return to the appointed home of her people. Not so very unlike himself he felt, both of them cast out into an unknown, unnatural place with a longing for a return to somewhere, some place where they would feel truly at home. It occurred to him that they weren't so very different from him, he too wanted to return to a place he could call home, he to delighted in the meadow above the Silo, the environment that hinted of his true home. He drew himself up straight. "How would you do it?"

P'Arcerial looked at Petré.

He repeated, "how would you do it? I mean return the world of mankind back as it was meant to be? Return it to its true created form, just like you would like to return to the home of your true created form?"

It was D'Annu'Elle who responded. "You may already understand Petré that we have been here for a long time, many years of man. Well in that time we have explored your world extensively, not just visually but in many ways. We have sought things, gathered and collected hidden things that you most probably thought long gone, things lost to the battles that raged and the destruction that rained upon your world. When the war got to the stage where the world itself was threatened we began to collect all manner of things, we still do today." D'Annu'Elle paused for a few seconds before continuing. "Well we have found much. Seeds of plants and of trees, tiny snippets of biological makeup that have allowed us to reconstruct many species of creatures, both on land and in water. We have been able to gain a detailed knowledge of previous climates and weather systems, the natural things that governed the surface of your world in times long ago in the past, in a time just before the destruction and before the imbalances that now threaten the world. We have a considerable archive containing much of the world before the wars raged."

Petré looked towards them both, he heard what they said, but the words hadn't quite sunk in, "how do you mean? I'm not sure I understand what it is you are alluding to."

D'Annu'Elle looked at his daughter and they both smiled. P'Arcerial suddenly giggled. "What do you think I was doing in the meadow? The day we first met. I was there to gather whatever I could find, collecting and saving things so that they weren't lost forever." She laughed. "Come Petré let us eat, then perhaps you would like to see something that may please you greatly. We have a wonderful thing to show you."

## Chapter 15. The New World.

Petré felt stunned, his jaw shivered with the emotion he felt. He was vaguely aware of the voice of the T'Iea he was introduced to as the master builder. The master builder was even now enthusiastically telling Petré what had been accomplished, describing the building process, but Petré only heard the words as a distant gabbling. All his attention was taken with the vista that lay spread out before his eyes. He was having some difficulty in actually believing what his eyes perceived.

They stood on the side of a mountain, upon a wide rock ledge, a steep decline before them and a cliff behind. They had just exited through a large cave entrance, the cave itself was where they had appeared after travelling through the portal from the hall of passage on the star ship. After stepping through the portal Petré had found himself within that large cavernous space. Around the outside walls of the cavern lay much debris, piles of rock and soil, plant material, much machinery, a few workers were busy within a cordoned off area, shoveling some of this material into a portal, each shovelful disappearing as soon as it entered the dark space that seemed to hang in mid-air. Over the other side of the cavern many empty metal cages of all sizes where piled high to the ceiling, some of the lower ones still had their doors swung open. But then P'Arcerial had excitedly grabbed his hand and drawn him to the cave entrance and led him out to what lay beyond.

It had taken a few minutes for his body to recover from the remaining vestiges of discomfort following the strange sensation of passing through the portal, but that was soon forgotten, for in front of him was something that surpassed anything he had experienced before. His legs wobbled and collapsed from under him and he sank to his knees upon the rocky mountainside. He reached down to feel the rocks, reached out to touch the fleshy fronds of a plant that grew from a crack in the stone. He needed to reassure himself that what he saw was actually there and it wasn't a trick or a dream. His brain started to make room for other senses as they were switched into high alert. He couldn't decide whether to continue to look, to smell, to feel, even to hear.

Suddenly the prioritising of his senses was decided for him when a loud screeching was heard from above, he felt panic rise within him, his natural reaction was to run. Had they tricked him? Had they brought him here so they could witness his death? A war drone! Even here the enemy sort to steal his brain and other parts of him, he cried out in alarm trying to stand on still shaky legs, but his muscles wouldn't work in the way he wanted. P'Arcerial, smiling broadly, held him by the arm and pointed to the sky. He looked up following the length of her arm. Something indeed flew in the blue sky, but it was not a machine of war, it was some kind of creature, it spread its wide arms to each side and seemed to ride upon the air. It looked down at them with a piercing gaze as if in contempt at their presence. Whatever covered the creature, whatever it was adorned in, blew about in the breeze high above, then it wheeled about and circled twice before it flew out and over the canopy of trees that formed an unbroken green swathe all the way from the base of the cliff to the far horizon.

"That creature is a bird Petré, your ancestors called it an Eagle, a natural creature belonging to your old world."

Petré was silent, he could not say anything as he watched the creature fly off until it disappeared into the distant haze of clouds.

His attention remained on the horizon. The green of the forest seemed to stop and was replaced by a rich blue, just slightly darker than the blue of the sky, a narrow blue swathe he could see stretching from the left to the right as far as his eye could see. He pointed, but found he was unable to ask the question, for this question was one of many swirling about in his head, it was lost in amongst a thousand other questions that fought their way to the forefront of his mind demanding to be asked.

P'Arcerial smiled, "that is the ocean Petré, a great sea. It extends to the other side of this continent where there is more land of a different type that holds many other creatures and plants. Others that require slightly different climatic conditions to live."

Petré calmed, "but what is it? Why is it so blue?"

"It is water Petré, an ocean of water. It is blue because it reflects the sky above it."

Petré seemed to have difficulty in forming the word. "Wa ... wat ... water?"

P'Arcerial smiled, "There was a time when most of your old world was covered in vast expanses of water. Seas and oceans. The land was dotted with lakes and many rivers that ran out into these oceans. Water even fell from the sky, it was called rain." She pointed to white wispy things that hung in the sky and he was vaguely aware that she was explaining something to do with the weather.

"But how? How have you done this?"

D'Annu'Elle spoke. "As I explained, we have spent much time collecting information and many samples of flora and fauna of the kind that once abounded on your world. We took just enough to maintain a reasonably complete record of your worlds heritage. We started to do this when we became afraid the wars that increasingly raged across the world may destroy everything to the extent that it could not be recovered, So we collected as much as we could without upsetting the natural balance. This place was created and filled it with those findings. Well actually the void in which we stand was itself already here, it took a little while to find it, it had to be large enough you see and of course had to be empty. But when it was found the Keepers created the link to the star ship and the Grûndén adapted the geology of the original place, built and shaped the basics, all was modelled on what we knew of your old world. I think it is pretty accurate at least from the gathered information we had. Then with a little help from all of us we put together piece-by-piece what we understood to be an accurate representation of your old world at the time when we had the most information available. Then when the time was right and we were sure that all the various natural balances were correct, the Keepers adjusted the time scale, effectively speeding up the natural evolutionary processes. I am pleased to say that we managed to create this place so that it was within less than point zero, zero, one percent of acceptable tolerance. We had a few issues of planetary core temperature and the correct balance of gaseous elements in the atmosphere. The biggest issue was the gravitational offset, it took us a while to realise that the original worlds axis was set at a lesser angle than it is currently within the outside world. But as a result what you see behaves much as your old world once did. Climatic conditions are accurate and it has settled into an acceptable natural pattern. I think you will find it pretty much runs itself now. We are very confident that we managed to mirror the natural evolutionary process accurately. So we left it to its own devices and this is the result." D'Annu'Elle swept his hand across the horizon as if to unveil it. "Do you like it?"

Petré was still lost for words, all he could think to say was, "do I like it?"

D'Annu'Elle explained. "You understand it is not an actual world as such. The Keepers can access such places outside of time and normal space. These voids as we call them are natural phenomena, they exist in many forms throughout differing time-space continuums. Sometimes time and space shifts and these places come into existence in our time-space, they can then become all manner of things, even worlds, although that shift between time and space is very rare, just like worlds and other bodies can also shift the other way and disappear from our time-space if the conditions are right, but again that is a rare thing. All we had to do was find one of these voids that was stable enough and suitably furnished with the right minerals and other chemical compounds for successful adaptation. The elder races call these resulting adaptations 'Sanctuaries'. Access to and from these sanctuaries is not by any normal physical means; only the Keepers have the necessary knowledge and skill to be able to do this. But once access is gained, some of these places lend themselves perfectly to being utilised for such purposes as this.

P'Arcerial then spoke excitedly. "There are other places like this Petré, each of the elder races has such a place, a Sanctuary. Not quite the same as this one of course. But you remember the tapestry back in the house, the one that depicts our true home, the place we call Had'Sn'Efel? Well we have a sanctuary designed after a place like that. So do the other races. It is important that each elder race has such a sanctuary so that they can return home so to speak. It is necessary for each races wellbeing. This sanctuary is your place of refuge if you like. This is your sanctuary. It is our hope that one day we can bequeath this place to the race of mankind."

Petré looked at the two T'Iea. He was stunned that they should take all the trouble to make this place. Did they intend for others to come, others who could live here? Was that the answer to saving his race, to bring them here? But would they come? He asked the questions.

Not exactly Petré. Although that is a possibility. The sanctuaries are very close to the original, they could of course be used to house your people, but there is always a small margin of error especially here where we have used a damaged world to be the template, there is a risk that our calculations are in error even by an infinitesimal degree. So rather than risk any adverse long-term effects from permanent habitation we would rather your people use what we have saved here to repair your world in a carefully managed way. Use what is here to re-establish the natural nature your world.

Petré looked all around him in bewilderment. "But, but how can we recreate this in the world?"

"Ah." Exclaimed D'Annu'Elle. "Before you can rebuild your world we have to stop the decay, then get it to a point where life like this can once more exist, only then can the seeds be planted so to speak and start the natural recovery processes. It will be a long job Petré, do not expect it to happen overnight, we cannot risk using time changes to speed up the process on a real world, it may introduce unknown variables. We can safely start the process, recreate the right conditions for recovery, but it is far better to allow the world to evolve naturally, even then minor anomalies may cause the process to evolve slightly differently from your original world. But the Makers creations are very resilient, surprisingly so in fact, I am very confident that your world is not yet beyond saving, I am sure it will recover. You will be surprised how quickly a world can repair, even from the worst of catastrophes. A few thousand of your years of man should make a marked difference."

Petré remembered the Silo and the meadow that grew above it. Yes, he could see how the world may recover, given the right start and the right circumstances. He had always hoped for something like this, always held a hope in his heart that the meadow he enjoyed so much would be bigger, spread out beyond the confines of the wall surrounding the Silo. But he looked sad. "But a few thousand years? We could not do this, we do not live long enough as individuals to do this. I doubt we have the necessary numbers or the capability to organise such a thing across the whole world. What you suggest is impossible, it cannot be done."

P'Arcerial held his hand, she was about to say something, but the look on his face stopped her. The look was one of sudden realisation, then one of appeal.

He was hesitant, he wasn't sure how the T'Iea would answer, he dreaded a negative response, but he asked. "Do you, the elder races, have the capability? Do you have the means, whatever it takes to clean up the world and make it ready for this?" He nodded towards the beauty that surrounded them.

P'Arcerial's face burst into a wide grin. "Yes, Petré, I believe we do. With your permission we would at least like to try?"

Petré looked between her and D'Annu'Elle. "With my permission?" How could they need his permission? He quickly turned back to D'Annu'Elle, "T'D'Annu'Elle, be assured you have my permission. Please, there is nothing I would like more. Please do whatever it takes, use your technology, your knowledge. Save my world and all those who live within it. There is nothing that I would like more."

P'Arcerial smiled broadly, she skipped up to Petré like a small girl as she shrugged her shoulders and gave a squeal of delight. "We will begin as soon as possible, some plans are already made and can be actioned quickly, but many more need to be realised before we can really start."

## Chapter 16. Catastrophe

The energy surged forth from the surface of the firmament below, it was unabated, without hindrance or under any kind of control. It was as if the lifeblood of the world poured forth from a gaping wound. The Entity couldn't believe the amount of raw power flowing forth like a fountain, to the Entity it was like a well of life-giving waters. If the Entity could adapt this power into a medium in which it could safely reside then it would have endless energy at its beck and call. It would have everything it needed to grow and prosper, everything it needed to fulfil its darkest logic and satisfy its most persistent subroutines. It coaxed the drone within which it flew closer to the column of raw energy spewing forth, at first the drone was unsure, it was aware that it lived and carried a precious cargo and it saw the column of energy as an unknown risk and was reluctant to approach.

In the end the Entity commanded another of the machines to approach the energy source instead. As the drone moved closer the entity could not detect anything unusual, no danger in the slightest, it began to think that this column of energy was nothing but a hoax, a trick played by the humans here in the eastern lands. But the all of a sudden the drone it had sent began to send back information at a tremendous rate. The entity couldn't believe what it was receiving. This energy was a manifestation of the natural energy present within the world, only the focus was completely without restraint, whoever had orchestrated its release quite obviously had an incomplete understanding of what they were dealing with. It was a concentrated breach of the gravitational energy present within the world itself, in fact it emanated directly from the worlds core. Suddenly the entity understood. The humans had breached into the magnetic flux surrounding the world, somehow they had concentrated it, diverted it through this point. The amount of energy flowing out was likely unstoppable, they had started a chain reaction diverting the magnetic flux away from the polar norm, this had likely already reached a point where it was beyond the ability of the remaining energy levels within the world to put right. There was not enough residual magnetic energy to fill the gap and staunch the flow, there was not enough energy of any sort available from this pitiful world to stop it now.

In effect the fools had let loose their own demise, they had spelled out their own disaster, they had destroyed themselves. The entities logic pointed out that this was completely in line with its own ultimate goal. But the Entity was no longer just a logical processor, it had developed into something more, something that recognised other states rather than just '1' or '0'. Something within the entity understood that destruction of this world would also mean its own destruction. Self-preservation was not an issue, what it didn't like and what it found distasteful in the extreme was that ultimately it would be unlikely to be able to fulfil that directive. The world and the humans would be destroyed by this escape of energy and not by any efforts made by the entity itself.

Something must be done, the Entity had to be the instrument of the demise of the human race, it was unthinkable that its final fulfilment and goals would not be satisfied. That it would be robbed of the ultimate fulfilment of its sole purpose. It's ultimate victory. What would it do if its programming was not terminated in the way that was planned, would it go on forever, frustrated and increasingly battered by logical subroutines that would be impossible to satisfy. The entity realised it would be forced to attempt to control the flow of energy enabling it to at least slow the decay until after it had completed its task. There lay the irony that the Entity would likely be forced to rescue the humans before it could destroy them. It commanded the approaching drone to fly into the full flow of the energy column. It felt anger, it needed to vent that anger and also it wanted to see what would happen. The drone approached slowly, nothing seemed to happen at first, but then it began to struggle to pull back, the frame of the machine started to shake as its motors whined to hold its slow progress. The entity could feel though its connected sensors an irresistible pull upon the drone, it was being sucked in. By this time the pull was too great for the motors of the drone to resist. The drone seemed to start to elongate, distort into an ever-increasing thin line. Then the entity witnessed the nearest part of the drone rush forward into the column of energy, yet like honey dribbling from a spoon, the rear most section of the machine was till just moving forward at the original slow rate. The entity watched fascinated. But after a few seconds the whole drone disappeared, sucked into the mass. The entity probed for the drone using the onboard sensors and interfaces channels of the drone in which it travelled, but nothing could be heard or sensed. Had the drone been destroyed? The entity instructed its transport drone to fly around the column of energy whilst it tried to decide how to make sure that the doomed drone had survived or otherwise.

Several metres back in the sickly looking scrub of the land, two pairs of eyes, animal eyes, watched the proceedings with keen interest. The eyes were unblinking, they glowed brightly as if in anticipation, as if they expected something to happen and didn't want to miss the spectacle in the blink of an eye. But after a while whatever was expected did not seem to come about. A low growl sounded and one pair of eyes blinked. The other pair of eyes disappeared as the first one continued to watch the mages with keen interest. Then both creatures turned to walk away and be swallowed by the sickly undergrowth.

The entity flew around inside its host drone for an hour or so monitoring the column of energy. All of a sudden another drone that was flying alongside the Entities machine as an escort exploded into flame and fell from the sky. The entity searched for any kind of energy flux that may have been created from inside the column and fired out destroying the drone. But the drone in which it flew had not detected anything. Instead the drone that housed the Entity demanded control of its functions, there was an urgency about it, an urgency that made the Entity release more control back to the drone. The drone immediately swung around. Its sensors scanning rapidly about. What was it searching for?

There on the ground several figures stood. Humans! Not only that but they had war drones with them, a number of these were already engaging the Entity's drones in dogfights in the sky. The Entity instructed all the other drones to attack; they turned and swiftly engaged both the humans on the ground and the rogue drones in the air. Two of the entity's drones were blasted out of the air before they could reach their antagonists. So this was it then, here were the humans that had managed to persuade the drones to change sides, to become renegade, the Entity had found the source of the disease that had forced it to abandon the citadel.

The Entity instructed its host drone to fly around the other side of the column of energy out of line of sight of their attackers and out of the line of fire. The machine responded but as it flew at right angles across the face of the energy column a blast of some energy caught it on one side of its hull. Motors screamed to compensate but the sensor arrays and directional control mechanisms along the damaged side of the drone had been put out of action and the machine began to fly erratically, it started to spiral in circles losing altitude as it went. The entity took stock of the machine, it found that the damage meant the machine would not be able to fly other than to spiral around until it eventually crashed into the ground. But it was still managing to forward momentum as well as spiral around, it would eventually make it to the far side of the energy column out of sight of its antagonists. But much to the despair of the entity the spiraling fashion of its flight brought it out from behind the curve energy column and the Entity calculated this would happen three more times before it was completely hidden. Luckily the enemy all seemed to be preoccupied with the drones that were attacking them and all of their fire were concentrated on these drones. As the Entity's drone came out from behind the column of energy for the second time, the entity witnessed the last of its drone escort exploded in a cloud of black smoke and flame. Then its host flew in its circular route behind the column once again. The Entity knew that the next and final time its spiraling path took it out from behind the column it would be in line of sight and be attacked by the concentrated fire of the human drones and be destroyed. The entity made the decision, it would be a risk, but the only safe place, its only choice was to fly into the energy column and hope that it would be completely hidden and undetectable. The entity hesitated slightly, but in a few seconds it would be in plain sight of the enemy and destroyed in an instant, it commanded the drone to turn. Immediately the entity lost all hosting memory, it no longer possessed any conscious thought or process. It had lost all awareness.

## Chapter 17. Borhran's Brooding

Borhran sat in his house within the TeraT'Inu'Itil, the sanctuary of the Keepers. He felt most comfortable here, unlike the other elder races, his people had decided long ago to live permanently within their sanctuary and not within any city upon the star ship. Perhaps more than most the Keepers needed the specific environment of their sanctuary for their well-being and comfort. As a race they valued their privacy and as they were not great in numbers they felt it more comfortable to live amongst themselves, well away from the majority races. To Borhran there was the added benefit of being able to lock the portal into TeraT'Inu'Itil if they wished to do so, they could isolate themselves if necessary, not that this type of measure was at all necessary of course. Not yet.

Borhran pondered on his earlier meeting with the Grand Master. His mind went back across the events of earlier that day. He had revealed to the Grand Master of the existence of the human Silo in the desert. How the T'Iea, actually not just any T'Iea, but the daughter of the T'Iea leader D'Annu'Elle himself no less, had brought a human from the world beyond onto the star ship.

"I need not remind you Grand Master that what I report is forbidden, to have perpetrated such an act goes directly against the basic written laws that we, the combined races have agreed by long debate and written constitution, the product of our own experience and mistakes. I have read the necessary volumes in law, the T'Iea have overstepped the mark, T'D'Annu'Elle's daughter may have even placed us all in an impossible situation, even threatened our very existence." He had gone on to reinforce his point. "The laws of our alliance, the very basis upon which we function, clearly outlines that this blatant act calls for serious ramifications. At the very least D'Annu'Elle and his daughter must be held accountable for the gravity of their actions. They must be made to answer for their blatant breach of our constitution and then we must discuss suitable contingencies to limit the damage. The rescued human, the one called Petré, cannot be released back into the world, the risk is too great, he would undoubtedly divulge our existence. He may also have learnt far too much already, enough perhaps to place the actual security of this star ship in jeopardy."

The Grand Master had looked grave, he concentrated on his hands resting upon the desk in front of him with furrowed brow. Borhran had inwardly smiled, he had this, he was sure of success, there was no way that the T'Iea could wriggle out of this one. Yet supportive response that Borhran was expecting the Grand Master to make did not come. Instead the Grand Master stood and clasping his hands behind his back he took in a deep breath. "Thank you Master Borhran for bringing this to my attention. What you say may well be correct and I agree it carries serious implication." The Grand Master seemed to mull over his words for a while before continuing. "It may surprise you however to know that I was not ignorant of these facts, I have been aware of them for some time now. I can assure you, I already know the basis of the accusations that you have made. T'D'Annu'Elle told me himself."

Borhran didn't believe what he was hearing. The Grand Master knew? Yet he had done nothing!

The Grand Master had continued. "I fear you are quite correct in what you report, for I also had initially come to the same conclusions. However, I'm afraid that events have progressed and taken an unexpected turn." The Grand Master had lowered his gaze. "You will perhaps be aware that shortly before the unfortunate circumstances erupted that led to an all-out war across the human world, the we had already put in place a plan to communicate with the humans, make first contact and pursue the necessary communication that would explore the ability of the human race joining the combined races?"

Borhran had frowned; no he had not been aware of this. He remembered he felt slightly embarrassed. With some sarcasm he had responded, "no Grand Master I was not aware, but then my role is purely to navigate the star ship." Then with a hint of sarcasm in his tone, "a relatively minor role it seems when it comes to vastly more important issues."

"Come now master Borhran, the role of navigator is vastly important, of course it is, but the decision of first contact was made through the commanding council as is required by the same laws that you have already mentioned."

Borhran still felt mixed emotions; he knew he was not on the commanding council, but perhaps he should be. D'Annu'Elle was a member, they had listened to him and he had managed to escape retribution for his and his daughter's crimes. Managed to wriggle out of his responsibilities. Borhran had again reminded the Grand Master that their directives forbid then to interfere in this way, at least until a fledgling relationship established. He again reminded him that these laws were put into place for very good reasons and of the possible results of going against their own written decrees. But the Grand Master had shrugged this off saying that the decision was made, the circumstances relating to mankind were extreme and no historic precedence in law existed that they could follow. So the commanding council had appointed an investigating body and the final decision made based on their findings. That, the grand Master had reminded him was the correct procedure as laid down in the constitution as previously agreed between the combined races.

The Grand Master continued to speak. "Further the T'Iea in the form of T'D'Annu'Elle have already suggested something that the commanding council have already agreed to, something that would affect the future of this world of mankind."

When asked if D'Annu'Elle was part of this investigating body the Grand Master had said, "No. We felt that he may have ulterior motives that may cloud his judgment, but his experiences and that of his daughter made them both key witnesses. I led the investigative body. In the end the commanding council had agreed unanimously in favour of T'D'Annu'Elle, their findings and plans were being discussed according to the resulting remit."

Borhran remembered being stunned into silence over these disclosures.

The Grand Master had then stood and walked across the room, taking a glass he poured himself a drink and stood looking out of the window across the veranda to the lush, thick green forests beyond. "The full documented results have been released, several days ago in fact. They are available to read by anyone who wishes to do so."

Borhran remembered feeling his anger rise within him, he had been remiss, had he not been so intent on drawing up a legal case against the retched T'Iea leader and his daughter then perhaps he may have noticed this and saved himself some embarrassment. Now he was being dismissed! The Grand Master waved him away as if he where waving at a fly buzzing around his ear.

Borhran had stormed from the room, his anger flaring, he was in the right, even the Grand Master was in the wrong here, he as good as admitted it earlier in acknowledging Borhran's accusations. There was no denying it, the directives had been cast aside, without any forethought. They had come up with a sham to disguise their crimes. They were going to break the entire directive, one of their most revered and upheld codes of practice, the one that did not allow them to play creator. It was a direct rebellion against the Maker himself. The Grand Master had hinted that the T'Iea had been planning something even greater. Didn't they understand? This was not allowed! To interfere with the natural courses of events, to blatantly and aggressively try and prevent such a twist of eternity from occurring, that would be disastrous. The T'Iea were doing their own thing once again as usual, blatantly flouting their own written law. Taking it upon themselves to play at being the Maker, it was sacrilege, blasphemy, a violation of their highest code of practice, nothing good would come of it.

He had stormed out onto the square in front of the pyramid where the Grand Master and his administration where housed. He had not come so that the T'Iea could blatantly place them all in grave danger, risk everything that ages in time had built. He did not sign up for this to ensure his own damnation in the eyes of the Maker. No he had to do something, had to dissuade them, had to stop them. If the Grand Master himself had been taken in, then he would bring sanity once more.

Borhran clenched his fists at his thoughts. His mind returned to the present. He had some friends that would listen, maybe even agree with his thoughts, but first he must substantiate what he had heard from the Grand Master, he must understand what the commanding council really planned and confirm what he suspected. He knew how to do this, he knew that the human he had befriended would be useful, after all he was close to the T'Iea leader, to D'Annu'Elle and especially with his daughter. With a bit of nurturing, he may well get Petré on his side. But he would need to be careful, for if they had divulged this information to Petré already then the human may already be on their side, already place great stead in what they were doing, may well trust them beyond reproach. So that was it then, he must befriend the human further, it shouldn't be difficult, the human had shown much interest in what Borhran had to say in the library. He seemed to want to lap up knowledge, especially if Borhran tailored that knowledge to excite the thoughts of the human and any play upon desire or ambitions he had of his own.

## Chapter 18. The Sanctuaries

Petré found himself once again in the great hall of the library. He didn't remember walking there and it surprised him, but then perhaps not, he had come here to this place of learning so many times the journey had become automatic. Perhaps he sought answers here, he was always happier trying to discover things for himself, certainly rather than asking others, even those he trusted. Understanding for himself was the only truly reliable way, he'd learned that in the. The people of this place were in command of a different set of sciences, all still quite alien to his human mind. To try and discover slowly for himself was the only way he found he could even begin to comprehend any of it.

He sat at his usual seat and faced the viewing screen, it was blank at the moment waiting silently to be issued with commands. He did not touch it, did not ask it to retrieve some piece of information. The whole learning process was all too slow. He felt deeply frustrated, how could he begin to understand all this, how could he use it to help his people. It was likely they would all be dead, long gone before he even had the slightest inkling knowledge that could help them. There was only one way. The T'Iea, they must help him, they had to. Why didn't they just agree to his requests, surely they could see the urgency, the need to make swift and decisive decisions. He would make them help if he had to.

Petré forced himself to calm. Yes, the T'Iea, it was incredible what they were capable of. What he had seen, what they had shown him, well it was like dangling a carrot, if only he had the first spark of that knowledge. He was tempted to request to be allowed back into the planar voids, back into the sanctuary the elder races had created. His sanctuary they had called it. How was it real? His world was unique; there couldn't be another surely. Yet they had created it from the hidden secrets of what remained of his old world. It certainly looked and felt authentic, yet it was just a copy. What he did not know was how accurate a copy, none did. Many, many generations of his race had passed since his world looked like that, none would remember anyway. P'Arcerial spoke of the Maker, some mysterious all powerful divine being she attributed to having created everything, even created the world in which he lived. They, the race of men had destroyed it, in their ignorance and self-desire. If there was such an all-powerful creator, why had he allowed them to do this? Why hadn't he intervened, stopped them?

Yet now the T'Iea had come offering a way back, a way to recreate, to rescue the Makers creation. Perhaps this was the only chance to regain that old world which had been lost. How long would it take? It was doubtful he would live to see it. But then would any of his kind live to see it. If he remained here on the great star ship, where the passage of time was so much different, he may live long enough to see the results. But as for the rest of humanity, the machines were destroying them, killing them wherever they were found, how long would it take them to eradicate the last Silo, remove the last vestige of the human race? Then there would be no one to appreciate any of the plans the T'Iea had in rebuilding the world.

The Earth sanctuary as they called it, it was beautiful and it appealed to something deep within his psyche. But what use would it be if he were the only one of his race that remained, the only one to enjoy the new world. He would be alone. He needed to find out more. This was all starting to feel like a dream and he wanted some hard facts that would make it feel more real and alive.

"Greetings Master Petré, it is good to see you once again."

Petré looked up, surprised at the greeting. There stood the strange man, the Keeper he had met before here in the library, the one called Borhran.

The Keeper smiled broadly indicating towards a seat opposite where Petré sat. "May I join you perhaps?"

Petré shrugged Borhran nodded and still smiling he swung the seat around and sat down. Petré watched him all the time, not out of any real interest, just an almost subconscious act for he was still thinking of the sanctuary and what it meant.

Petré suddenly realised that this Keeper may be able to answer many of the questions he had floating around inside his head. After all hadn't P'Arcerial and her father gone to meet the Keepers for the self-same reasons? Perhaps Borhran was part of that conversation, perhaps he knew all that transpired.

The Keeper's eyes went to the console screen in front of him and he began to work. But after Petré had looked at him for what must have been the twentieth time the Keeper placed both his hands upon the table and looked at Petré. "It seems you wish to ask me something? Or ask something of me perhaps?"

Petré stuttered. Was this a hint that Borhran expected Petré's questions? "Well, ummm, yes, actually. I errr. Well I found out yesterday that each of the elder races have what they call a sanctuary, a place of refuge where they can go to rest, to rejuvenate within an environment where they feel at home. Each of these sanctuaries replicates the environment that can be found naturally on each of the elder races home worlds. They are necessary for each race to retreat to from time to time for recuperation?"

Borhran smiled and chuckled. "I see. Yes we each have a sanctuary as you call it. You are also quite accurate in your assumptions as to why we each have the ability to enter such a place. The sanctuary made for my race of the Keepers is called TeraT'Inu'Itil, it simply translates into 'the place of the Keepers'. It is true each of us, each of the elder races needs such a place. We all have responsibility here on the star ship, some of us live almost permanently here, we have done so for a long time. But the star ship has an environment that is not tailored to any one race, rather it caters for all, it is a best fit if you like for all of us. So for each races long-term health we have the sanctuaries as places of refuge and of rejuvenation, a place that is tailored exactly to each elder race and to each individual races special needs. Only there are we are able to continue our own unique evolutionary process, a long term investment that will enable each race to evolve within their own natural environment."

Petré thought about this. Yes there were obvious differences between the races he had seen so far. But even though it had been hinted at, it had not really occurred to him that they may have come from such differing environments and have different preferences enough that they wanted to keep their unique evolutionary processes separate. "But I thought you were all basically the same. I mean physical differences aside, I thought that you all came from the same origins, from the same race of the first born."

Borhran shrugged. "Well, if we are all of us reputed to have come from the same place, in the distant and long forgotten past, one single physical place where a long forgotten race of people once lived, I'm afraid none now know where this place was. We have spent many, many countless millennia trying to find it, it is one of the reasons that we travel, one of the goals of our explorations you understand. But so far not a single clue as to its whereabouts has ever been found. Perhaps it no longer exists, perhaps it has gone the way of many solar systems, its sun burnt out come to the end of its life cycle, perhaps or perhaps it never existed. Personally I believe it is a fancy belonging to dreamers, a romantic hope. I do not believe such a race existed or ever has done.

What I am sure of is that we all individually discovered how to travel beyond the confines of our worlds and spread out across the known universe. We all evolved on other worlds that were able to sustain life. I am sure over many millennia in time we all developed, each race evolving in different ways because of the subtly differing environments in which they lived. It is true that because of our subtle differences and individual adaptations we need to go back into those environments ever so often just to recuperate if you will. This is exactly why we have the sanctuaries where each race is linked so that our minds and bodies can continue to function properly and safely and without long term adverse effects."

"But," said Petré suddenly aware of the question burning in his mind. "If you did all come from the same origin and populated other worlds, did these other worlds already have an indigenous populations of beings living on them, or where they empty of intelligent life?"

"Ah that is a good question Master Petré, if such information existed then it is lost to the ages. But if what you are asking is would we have invade these other worlds with the express desire to conquer them and win them for their own political advantage? I do not believe that was the case. There are several reasons behind this, the most important one is that we are strictly forbidden to meddle in the affairs of any local indigenous peoples. We are strictly forbidden to give any aid, or any guidance to any, in most cases we are forbidden to even make contact. Only when the indigenous peoples have been assessed for a lengthy period of time and we are absolutely sure that they are ready for such contact do we make those first attempts at meeting with them. Often this is thousands of years in their own time scales for only after a strict regime of well-proven protocol having been followed and satisfied are we even allowed to make initial contact." Borhran paused here looking at Petré in a peculiar fashion. He sat back in the chair and placed the flats of his palms onto the table in front of him, "but regardless of our speculations some of us have broken that code of non-involvement, decided to act on their own accord, for their own interests perhaps."

"You refer to me? The act of bringing me here?"

Borhran shrugged. "Certainly, in all of my time travelling nothing like that has happened before."

"But why now? Why was I saved and your laws broken?"

Borhran leaned closer towards Petré, "I can only think that they have their own reasons to do this, their own designs perhaps. They have not shared their thoughts with others to my knowledge. But I am certain it is not something I, or my people, would have done."

Petré remained deep in thought, then it suddenly occurred to him. "You think that the T'Iea are waiting? Biding their time so that they can take over the world of men? Even enslave my people?"

Borhran laughed, "Why? Why would they wait? Surely now is the time to strike out whilst your people are few and helpless."

With a frown Petré said. "Perhaps they wait for us to destroy each other so that they can walk in unchallenged, wait until we have wiped each other."

Borhran just shrugged in response. Inside he was very excited, he could not believe his luck the way this conversation was going, but he had to be careful, help nurture these thoughts in the human, it would not do to seem to keen. So he continued his previous explanation. "I am sure there may be many reasons Petré, but I I'm afraid I am not party to any of them.

Petré thought once again of the prospect of living within the sanctuary that the T'Iea had created for him. Perhaps after all this was necessary, perhaps living here in the combined races environment would be harmful – long term? He needed to know. "So," asked Petré, "you cannot survive here indefinitely in this common environment within the star ship?"

"Oh no it's not like that, we can survive here just like we can survive on your home planet if necessary. We can survive here indefinitely, but you must understand it is good for the general wellbeing of each race to return to a home environment every now and again, that is where we need to continue to evolve. If we stayed here then our evolution will take a different path perhaps. For some this is more important than others for various reasons. Some individuals prefer to live in the sanctuaries, some races, like my race, spend as much time as possible in our sanctuary of TeraT'Inu'Itil because as a race we are few and wish to remain true to our kind. But we are lucky for our responsibilities within the star ship whilst it is not travelling across the outer void are few."

Petré nodded slowly.

Borhran continued, "all the elder races have certain attributes and capabilities that are tied, linked if you will to their home environments. Would we not all eventually evolve to be the same if we stayed in a similar alien environment?"

Petré nodded, it did seem to him that this may well happen.

"The sanctuaries exist so that the full potential of each race is maintained. Each of the races have evolved certain unique attributes because of those differing environments. Individually we have our own skills and knowledge, our own abilities to do certain things. But together the sum of these attributes and skills makes for a much more efficient and powerful collective. That is what you find us all here together, we each bring our own unique abilities to the table so to speak. To maintain those abilities and not lose them to evolution, or perhaps devolution, it is prudent to return to the environment that gave us the attributes to start with."

"So then where is your world? The place you originally came from? Is it lost to you as is the world of the T'Iea?"

Borhran seemed to think for a moment. "My world is different from the T'Iea and the other races. It is recorded in our history that out of all the worlds ours uniquely is positioned at a fissure, a point in time and space that borders two or maybe more time continuums. Our world is prone to shifts in time and space, through a natural but very rare set of circumstances it shifts out of conventional time through a temporary opening and into an alternative dimensional space-time. A space-time that formed a sort of hub and made access possible across many void places. Many of the voids to which we found ourselves connected were not hospitable to us, many of my people died in various ways, bad environments, illness, even by being hunted and destroyed by creatures that lived in such voids. Our very existence was threatened, our population falling. Thus our survival efforts eventually led to our evolution being drastically changed, probably more than any other race, we needed to control these shifts in both time and space. We were able over time to develop, to evolve, the special skills necessary to manipulate time and space. We remain citizens of the voids to this day, another reason why we prefer the voids in which to make our home.

Petré nodded, the story he had just heard was quite some tale. He thought of the world, the sanctuary he had been shown, the place in the voids. Now he knew it existed he certainly thought he would feel better if he went back there on occasions. But he decided not to tell Borhran anything more, at least until he knew more himself.

His thoughts settled on the T'Iea. He had witnessed some of their capability and skill, for they had created the new world which they had shown him. He decided he wanted to try and find out a little more about the T'Iea, after all they had been his hosts now since his arrival on the star ship. So he asked, "what then are the abilities of the T'Iea, they seem to be able to wield a technology that allows them great prowess in battle."

But Borhran did not answer, he was looking over Petré's shoulder, a faint smile was formulating upon his lips. Petré turned in his seat to see what Borhran was looking at, there striding across the floor of the great library came P'Arcerial. She wore the garb she had first seen her in, the dark hooded robe. The sides of the cloak were swung back across her shoulders. Beneath she wore a shining coat of metal rings, the rings of the metal coat seemed to shimmer, he could not focus in any individual part of the coat it seemed to flow and intertwine together, almost as if it had a life of its own. Borhran gently reached across and tapped Petré on the back of his hand making him turn to look at him. He said under his breath, "prowess in battle indeed, but if you wish to know more then you had better ask."

Borhran smiled at him and may have given him the slightest of nods. "Yes, you had best ask her Petré. Ask her about the arcane."

Petré wanted to ask Borhran more but P'Arcerial was now standing by them, she smiled in greeting. "Hello Petré," she kissed him on the cheek, then turned and looked at the Keeper. Nodding a greeting she said, "Master Borhran.? The T'Iea you say? What about the T'Iea?"

Borhran stood suddenly and gathering his things made his apologise and bowing low made for the entrance to the library across the floor. He seemed a little rattled, embarrassed perhaps. Petré and P'Arcerial watched him go until he disappeared into the outer hallway and after turning to look at P'Arcerial, headed for the exit to the building.

## Chapter 19. A Shock to the System

Petré looked at P'Arcerial, she was still looking in the direction of the entrance to the great library. She stood silent looking after where Borhran had disappeared but moments before. He asked, "you know him? Master Borhran?"

P'Arcerial tore her gaze from across the great library and looked at Petré. "I'm sorry Petré, what did you say?"

"I asked if you knew him," Petré nodded towards the exit to the room, "Master Borhran?"

"Yes. Yes I know him, he has a special position within the star ship. But rarely do we see him or any of his race here."

"He said he was the navigator he has control of this star ship?"

P'Arcerial seemed far away in thought for a while. She did not answer his question, instead she asked one of her own. "It was he, Master Borhran who you met in the library that time? It was he who told you those things about the time differences between here and your world?"

"Yes, it was Master Borhran."

She looked at him and glanced back out of the library entrance. "It would seem that Master Borhran has told you much. Yes, Master Borhran is a navigator, not the only one, there are a number of his race that perform that function. It is rarely we see them when the star ship is idle for their particular skills aren't needed. They retreat back to their sanctuary to be amongst their own people and we never see them unless for a special reason or the star ship is to start traveling again." She seemed deep in thought whilst she looked in the direction Borhran had gone, but before Petré could respond she added, "but come, before you discover all of our secrets I have some good news to share with you."

P'Arcerial started to poke Petré playfully, she then ran away from him, goading him to follow. With a smile Borhran was forgotten. A thrill of excitement shot up Petré's spine. What was it about this wonderful T'Iea maiden? She instilled something within him, something he had never felt before. She was infectiously happy and carefree, she made him feel good, good about himself and that was something that he rarely seemed to feel these days. He laughed as she turned willing him to follow once more. He ran after her and she turned and ran for the exit. Petré dodged along behind P'Arcerial like an excited child, he couldn't stop asking what news she had, but all she would say was, "wait, I need to show you."

They walked through the city streets, Petré had calmed somewhat so he changed his questioning, he indicated towards the clothing she wore, "you have been out into the world haven't you?"

She looked at him, "yes, a routine patrol. We went to see if we could gather anything else from a new region, one we had not visited before."

He nodded enthusiastically. Now his curiosity was really aroused. He was about to ask another question when they arrived at a building. Petré recognised this low circular building, he knew this to contain the halls of passage in which he had first found himself when P'Arcerial had rescued him many months before. He had been back here on a few occasions, once to meet P'Arcerial on her return and once to use a portal that took him to his sanctuary. He wondered if they were going to journey back into the world, or even to go once more to the new sanctuary, perhaps they wanted to show him some new adaptation. Many T'Iea soldiers and a few representatives of other races stood around or were hurrying back and forth, today this was a busy place, it was obvious that something had caused great activity here this day. Soldiers strode past them, many saluted P'Arcerial as they went by. Petré knew now that P'Arcerial was an officer even a commander of some sort in the military. All were dressed as she, in long flowing cloaks that disguised the uniform they wore beneath. Weapons could be seen hidden beneath as the material billowed around. They continued to walk onwards into the building then down some corridors into an area he did not recognise. A wide doorway stood closed before them. P'Arcerial strode up to the door and after taking off her glove she pressed the palm of her hand onto the doorframe. There was a hiss and the doors swung outwards. Smoke of some kind seemed to billow about inside the room, they entered and Petré realised that actually this smoke was held captive within a massive transparent dome in the centre of the room. The dome took up most of the available floor space, only a narrow pathway went all the way around the outside wall of the dome enabling access all the way around he guessed. He had never seen this dome before.

P'Arcerial explained. "This is an emergency confinement dome, incoming portals can be redirected into here in an emergency, or if something where to come through one of the portals and we needed to confine it, either for the security of the star ship or, as is this case, for environmental quarantine." They walked up to the glass dome and peered inside. At first nothing could be seen due to the fine mist that whirled around inside.

P'Arcerial pointed and explained further, a hint of great excitement in the tone of her voice. "Decontamination process, it will only take a few more minutes." P'Arcerial rested both hands gently against the massively thick transparent material of the dome.

Petré tore his gaze away from P'Arcerial and fixed his gaze into the interior of the dome. The mist was clearing slowly; it appeared to be being sucked into vents set all around the inside of the dome close to where it met the raised metal floor. His attention was taken by a figure walking slowly up to P'Arcerial's side. A Keeper stood there, Petré took in a deep breath, Borhran? What was he doing here? But then he realised that there were subtle differences to this Keeper's features. This was not Borhran but the face of another.

The figure addressed P'Arcerial, "My Lady, we have managed to get it complete this time. I was worried, for a few moments I thought it may disintegrate like the others did, but it suddenly occurred to me that the portal may be causing the machines to misinterpret the action as a successful capture process, normally under those circumstances it seems, an inbuilt self-destruct mechanism may be triggered. I adjusted the sensory anaesthesia limits of the portal as much as I dared and it worked, the machine, or to be more precise the biological parts within the machine interpreted its unconsciousness merely as sleep rather than an act of aggression, thus it did not self-destruct.

Suddenly there was a loud screaming noise and the screeching of weapons fire. Petré cried out in alarm, he knew that noise, it meant death, sure and final. He fell to the floor instinctively. He felt hands grasping his shoulders; someone whispered in his ear, "be calm Petré. It's all right the containment field will hold it. It is impossible for it to do us any harm."

Shaking he looked up into P'Arcerial's concerned expression. A shadow fell over her face and he looked towards whatever had cast the shadow. He jumped back. There held within the glass dome was the unmistakable shape of a war drone. It was pressed hard against the inside of the dome, some of its vision sensors stared unblinking directly at him, others darted around as if looking for a means of escape. As it moved a horrid scraping noise came through whatever material comprised the dome, like fingernails being drawn across a chalk board. Yet no marks or scratches could be seen on the inside. He was shocked, this was the closest he had ever been to one of these deadly drones, well he had been close once before, but that time he was not able to scrutinise it in the same way as he was able to now. He flinched at the unblinking, unfeeling stare of those light receptors. It now had its scalpel device out from the receptacle on its underside, it scraped the evil looking blade slowly down the inside of the dome, again the screeching sound it made instilled more fear into Petré's being, a cold shiver went down his spine. If the machine could express deep hate, a projection of calculated malice, it was doing just that now as it looked towards them both.

It drew back from the dome, the protective doors beneath its body were open and all of the weaponry the machine possessed was protruding out. There was a scream of motors and the machine flew back further and repeatedly accelerated towards the glass dome hitting it on the inside again and again, then it flew back once more but this time instead of throwing itself against the inside of the dome it took aim and fired all its projectile weapons at Petré. He screamed and staggered back, but the small projectiles ricocheted off the inside of the glass and peppered the inside of the dome including the hard outer casings of the drone itself, it stopped firing and the projectiles rattled harmlessly to the floor inside the dome. The thermal shocker was the next to fire; Petré saw the waves of heated air strike the inside of the dome, it was reflected back and the machine itself caught its own blast. It was thrown backwards against the far side of the dome where it fell to the floor and took a minute or two to recover. The next to attack the inside of the dome were a pair of long steel circular saw blades rotating at thousands of revolutions a second, each sliced against the inside of the glass without even making a single mark. Finally, the machine seemed to give up, it retracted all its weaponry and closed the doors. Then it flew slowly around and around the inside of the dome looking out at the many spectators that had gathered outside. Every now and again it flew fast at the dome, at some particular figure on the outside as if trying to intimidate them.

Shocked at this display of wanton aggression and hatred, Petré gasped, "how in hell's name did you manage to get one of ......., those?" Petré's voice was high pitched with panic as he pointed into the dome at the war drone flying around inside its prison.

The Keeper standing beside P'Arcerial started to speak, but the principles of science he was explaining went way over Petré's head.

P'Arcerial obviously realised the Keeper was wasting his breath, she cut him short saying, "yes, quite so master Gorthun but perhaps you had better see to the tranquilising process before our guest here smashes itself to pieces, or decides to destroy itself like the others and we have to repeat the whole capture process over again."

Master Gorthun looked at P'Arcerial, his voice trailed off into silence. The expression of discomfort on his face spoke volumes of how he did not relish the idea of repeating that capture again, so bowing he made off around to the other side of the dome. Some kind of console device could be seen there.

"I developed a trap along with master Gorthun to capture it." It was P'Arcerial who spoke. "We set an arcane trap to tether the machine and confuse it, then we ported it into the chamber here before us. We have tried several times before without success, we found that by the time the machines were through the portal and into safe containment within the dome they were either just a collection of debris, totally destroyed or partially wrecked. But eventually with a few adjustments the plan worked and we now have one." She pointed almost proudly into the dome, Petré could see a look of success on her face.

But he could not join her in her satisfaction, what they had here was beyond dangerous, he knew. He grabbed her arm tightly, spittle flew as he shouted at her. "You should destroy it, before it destroys us." Petré had a dark expression showing in his eyes. "Do you know what it would do if it got free? Are you insane? It would go through here killing as it went, it wouldn't stop until everyone on this star ship was dead. I know these things, I have seen what they can do." He trailed off into thought, pain showing on his face. "I have felt what they can do."

P'Arcerial wrenched her arm free and rubbed the place where he had gripped her.

He turned to walk away. He said flatly and without emotion. "You must destroy it."

P'Arcerial followed and grabbed his shoulder. "We do not destroy Petré, it is not our way. To destroy is a violation against the Maker. Only if there is no alternative do we take a life and even then not lightly."

Petré looked at her, she thought she saw a look of disgust in his face. "You killed those others, the ones that attacked me in the meadow, you killed those to save me."

"No. They were not killed Petré, only sent to another place. The machines are not sent to their death, just relocated out of harm's way, sent to a place that the Keepers created in the voids."

"But they are just machines P'Arcerial, surely you cannot feel compassion for a machine?"

P'Arcerial seemed to think for a while, then she turned to look at him before she said, "but that's just it, they are not just machines are they?"

He scowled at her, he repeated his words a darkening look on his face, "you should have destroyed them all, killed them when you had the chance."

"The Maker decrees that we shall not kill; to kill is an act of evil, an act perpetrated wholly against his creation. He grants us the right to give life and even then only with his grace, but he does not give us the right to kill. The machines that we send through the portals are not sent to their death but remain alive. The place we send these machines are where the humanity that lies within the machines can be at rest. They sleep, the long dreamless sleep, timeless places where they age but slowly. They will stay that way for many ages and then, the Maker willing, he will grant them forgiveness and an invitation to rest in his many halls in understanding. Now you know why we guard that place, we are careful Petré, we realise if any were to gain access, re-discover the machines once more, wake them again." She looked deep into Petré's eyes willing him to understand.

Petré looked to her, his eyes remained dark. His anger had subsided, but now he thought about what she had just said, it didn't make any sense, to preserve these things was insane, an act of pure irresponsibility. However he looked at it such was too dangerous, what were these people playing at? Then he thought of what Borhran had said, could he be right? Could the T'Iea want to take over the world of men? Is that why they captured the drone, to either find out how to destroy them or worse how to control them? His features darkened. He repeated his words. "You should have destroyed them, killed them all when you had the chance."

P'Arcerial looked at him, she had not seen such emotion in his face before, something new had been ignited within him, an emotion that felt unbreakable.

He turned and said one word, "come."

She felt something she had not felt before, this one word shocked her, it was not a request, it was an order. That word was not said in love, but more from an urgency rooted in some other desire, something she did not yet understand.

He took one more look at the war drone pacing around inside the confinement dome like a captured beast put on show. He sneered and turned to walk from the place.

P'Arcerial gazed after him, she was shocked, never had she seen such emotions within him. She felt a little frightened. She felt fear as she made to follow him through the corridors and back out into the city streets. She ran after him swallowing her fear. Compassion for his hurt flowed through her and she called his name. He walked on as before, she had to run to catch up. Still she repeated his name asking him to slow down. Eventually he did so, slowly coming to a stop. She caught him up and stood behind him. His shoulders were shaking. He turned to face her, tears were streaming down his face. His legs gave way and he sat heavily upon the ground. She bent and cradled his head in her hands, she too was crying, in that moment she felt for him, felt for his race, a people living in abject fear, facing total annihilation. She raised his head and looked into his eyes, she wiped the wetness from his cheeks but he shook his head and pushed her away. P'Arcerial watched as he walked away, for the first time she began to doubt what she had done, began to feel that maybe she should have left him to whatever fate may have befallen him there in the meadow within the hidden vale.

## Chapter 20. Good news at last

There was knock on the door. He heard it but took no notice. Again a knock, a female voice, her voice, pleading with him to open the door, to come downstairs, he must eat. But he did not feel like eating, perhaps he wanted to punish her, make her feel concern, sorrow. He Swam in a downward spiral of despair and self-pity. The question came back once more to haunt him, how could they do such a thing, allow those that would destroy him and his people to live!

"Petré, please. Come downstairs. Let us talk, let us explain."

He rose slowly from the chair only half aware that he did so, walked across to the window. Darkness lay outside, the great light globes that hung high above and gave the city day light were dimmed to moonlight. He shook his head he couldn't even pronounce the name for these wonders Brĩschlåûndérgré their Grûndén makers called them, a reminder of the false reality he experienced here and his alien status. But below the city was lit by a million lamps, some lights moved as if someone carried them along. This was all he could see far into the distance. He wondered what lay beyond the city. Perhaps those things, those captured war machines were kept there. How many had they subdued over the years? He still could not fathom why they would keep them at all? This Maker of theirs. The one who had created all and would not allow them to destroy. He clenched his fist, there was no way he, or his people, could concede to such as this, they could not afford compassion towards their enemies. What they needed was saving. They had lost the power to save themselves and what was this Maker character doing to help them? Nothing!

He heard the door open slowly, heard the soft footsteps across the floor, felt a tug on his sleeve. He pulled away turning his back, he did not want to look into those beautiful eyes of hers.

"Forgive my intrusion Petré, I let myself in." P'Arcerial motioned with a swing of her arm towards the door and waited for a response. None was forthcoming. She felt the need to apologise further. "I'm sorry for causing so much pain, it was not my intention. I thought you would be pleased we had captured the machine. Don't you see Petré, we can possibly learn from it, find out how to counter them, how to save them and negate the threat they pose."

He grunted. Perhaps past experience pushed another thought to the foreground of his mind, he couldn't shake the attitudes of his own people. He maintained his gaze looking through the window at the myriad of lights beyond but seeing nothing. The thought in his mind was festering, growing. "You seem to be on top of that already, sending them to that special home you created for them. Sending them there as if they may come in useful in the future perhaps?"

She looked shocked, speechless.

The expression on her face almost made him back down, but something inside of him was enjoying this brief control he seemed to be able to exert. "Is that it, you are saving them for your own purposes, putting them carefully away for a time when they may come in useful?"

P'Arcerial still did not speak, she lowered her eyes to the floor and shook her head almost in despair.

He grunted. "The only way to truly stop them, if that is what you want, is to destroy them, destroy them all." He walked forward and raised his voice in mockery. Throwing up both arms as if to dismiss her in some way. "But this you will not do, you will not go against the misguided preaching's of your Maker." He turned away once again to look back out of the window.

P'Arcerial raised her head in a snap, she stood back from him, her fists were clenched.

He heard the rustle of skirts. Imagined a look of guilt upon her face.

But a sterner voice than the one he was expecting responded, one that fought back at the obvious emotion behind the words. "No! we will not destroy them Petré. To disregard the word of the Maker means to forfeit his aid. To forfeit his aid means we turn against him and rely upon our own flawed will. Only death lies down that path Petré, a true and lasting death. A final death that would have won. A death that would see us destroyed totally."

"But you say your Maker loves you, loves all of us, why then would he turn his back? Why has he turned his back on my people? Why has he allowed many of them to be defiled, taken and used inside those machines?"

Her voice became subdued once again, it sounded slightly weary. "The Maker will not forsake us, not any of us Petré. But he gives us free will to decide on our own paths, our own destiny. That is true love Petré, love enough to allow us our mistakes, however big they seem to us, how must they seem to the Maker? Don't you think he despairs in seeing us act in our own misguided way? He gave us our intellect Petré, he gave us all gifts, he also gave us the power to decide, how we use those gifts is purely down to our own decisions. If we make those decisions without the Maker's counsel, then we allow other influences to sway us. Evil is everywhere Petré, it's not just on your world. Evil is everywhere in creation, it resides in all our hearts Petré and it will take every opportunity to influence and to defile even unto our own self-destruction."

Petré's face darkened. What do you know of self-destruction? You and your people have lived in harmony and peace all your lives. How can you know what it is like?"

P'Arcerial rounded on him, for the first time she actually shouted as her eyes flared. "You know nothing of my people, how dare you assume. You know nothing of our past, nothing of the events that got us to where we are this day!" She turned with clenched fists and he was sure she was having trouble keeping self-control.

He spoke again, not willing to give up on his moment of being in control. "If he truly loved us he would intervene, save us."

There followed minutes of silence. Then he felt her presence move forward, felt the light touch of her hand on his arm once again. "He will sometimes Petré, but the only sure way is if we ask, only if we pray for his aid, invite him to help. But even then the Maker must decide, agree what we pray for would really aid us. For he alone knows what the results would be."

She gently turned him to face her. "Just imagine Petré, if he intervened automatically, if he helped us without question, without request." Before he could answer she continued. "If we were able to do anything we chose without fear of retribution because someone was always there to automatically erase the mess we leave behind from our many mistakes, what sort of a life would we be leading? We would be mindless pawns, there would be no need to learn from our mistakes, we wouldn't value right from wrong. The temptations would be too great; we would end up being in a bigger mess than we are now. We would not fear any retribution for our acts, those acts then would become worse and worse."

Petré turned away once more.

P'Arcerial was still feeling frustrated, why could he not see? Why could he not grasp such a simple concept, he kept his mind closed to the obvious. "We only seek to advise, to help. To use our knowledge in the full light of the Maker to aid you. We would not seek to subdue you, to change you. Only you and your people can do that." She thought of her reoccurring dream, thought of the perceived messages that it brought her. What she had just said, was that the truth? She lowered her gaze and clasped her hands together. "I don't know why I saved you. It was against all the rules that govern what we do. The rules that unquestioningly forbid us to intervene. But I think I sensed in you ..... something. Your interest in the meadow, your obvious joy at what you experienced. I still sense in you the drive to make things good once again. You need help Petré of that I am sure. But not the sort of help that would arm you against your enemy. Not the sort of help that just escalate the aggression already there. We are trying to offer the sort of help that will enable you to try again, give you and your people the ability to rebuild on your own and in your own way, to hopefully learn from the past, so you can avoid making the same mistakes again."

The look of deep concern on her face pulled at his heart. He knew her well enough, he could not deny she was right. On their own they had no chance. They hid away underground, afraid to come to the surface. His anger was in frustration at their own helpless truth. Suddenly he felt deflated and no words came forth from his mouth. He had no excuse for the behaviour of his people. It suddenly dawned on him, he had only known war. Why the war started, what the reasons were, what drove that madness? He didn't know. He sat down heavily on the bed, placed his face in his hands. She moved across and sat beside him, reaching across she clasped one of his hands.

"I am sorry Petré." But then her sorrow turned to a smile as she said, "you didn't give me the chance earlier, I have other news, something that may turn your thoughts away from the darkness, back towards the light."

Petré sighed, he looked at her slender hand holding his, then he looked up into her eyes. "I'm not sure I can take any more of your news." But at least he said this with a slight smile showing in the corners of his mouth.

Her smile broadened. "Whilst we hunted for the war drone Petré, we found something, something that may gladden your heart I think. We found another place Petré, one just like yours, we found a meadow, within it was a circular lake, very deep, with clear blue water."

After she had spoken, he stood. He looked at her aghast. He grasped both her hands, drew her up off the bed and he held her close. He let her go and holding both her arms gently pushed her back from him. "How? How did you find it?"

"We tracked a lone hunter drone, obviously a scout. We have seen them traverse the desert regularly. The drones seek the other Silo's in the desert Petré as you suspected. I believe they now know that perhaps many such places exist and they are searching for them. We tracked the drone to the meadow of which I spoke. We decided then that we needed to stop it from returning to its masters and reporting the location so, we captured it to prevent its return."

"But the meadow was discovered, what if it alerted others to the location, it may already be destroyed even as we speak."

"No Petré, we were swift, the machine was alone, as soon as it approached the surrounding wall we transported it to the holding cell. I am sure, more than sure, that it did not have time to relay any message it was still investigating what it had found, the nature of the capture portal is so strong that once established, nothing can escape its attraction, not even light or other transmitted energy forms."

"But the machine will be missed. They will know where it was when it disappeared, they will send other to search for it."

P'Arcerial smiled, stroked a wayward hair from over his eyes, as she looked at his forehead she added, "they will find nothing Petré. We also placed a ward around the wall, a shroud, a curtain if you will, to hide the meadow beyond. To any machines or anything passing by, all that will be seen is a continuation of the desert, other machines will not see the wall or what it contains. Even if they fly right across it the ward will guide them around without them suspecting anything."

"More tricks, more adaptations of, what was it you called it, the arcane?"

P'Arcerial still smiling, nodded.

Suddenly Petré had a determined expression on his face, turned and started to pace the room, fists clenched he said, "I must go there, you must take me," Then with a more pleading tone in his voice, "please you must take me? I must find out what has happened to my people, find out if some may have survived."

P'Arcerial nodded, she walked forward and grasped his hands. "I anticipated that. I approached my father. At first he was reticent, but I managed to change his mind. We feel that you should have the chance to go back to your own kind. With your agreement perhaps it would be good to open a way for our two peoples to get to know one another. We originally planned to make contact, before the war started; perhaps the time has come again."

Petré felt elation. After all the hurt he felt, all the pain that had spilled out over the last few hours, at last he felt that something was lighting his life once again.

P'Arcerial giggled in the way that was so endearing and he smiled at her. She gathered up her skirts in one hand and curtsied. "Now young sir, perhaps you will consent to escort me to dinner?"

He laughed at her, shook his head and stood. He approached her and sliding his arm around her waist drew her into an embrace.

P'Arcerial arched her back, she felt a tingle of something, her first thought was to draw back, but that tingle stopped her. Before she knew it they were kissing, the tingle she felt increased until it made her moved closer willing his lips to press harder against her own. Then as quickly as it happened they moved apart, their eyes gazed into one another's. Petré took her hand and led her across the room, he opened the door. Then he offered her the crook of his arm, she gladly took it and they left his room.

D'Annu'Elle was already sitting at the table with a glass of wine when they walked into the room. At the sound of their entrance he opened his eyes and smiled. P'Arcerial placed a kiss upon her father's cheek. She bounced around the table to where her chair was placed like a little girl at her birthday party. Petré sniggered.

D'Annu'Elle spoke, his head cocked slightly to one side, "I see by my daughter's excitement that she has enlightened you to our little plan Master Petré?"

"Yes, T'D'Annu'Elle. She has told me that you will allow me to accompany her back into my world. I am grateful for your decision; for I need to know what has happened to my people."

D'Annu'Elle gave Petré a sorrowful look. "I do not know what you will find Petré, I think it best you prepare yourself for the ...."

P'Arcerial interrupted her father, "by the Maker father you are in a melancholy mood this evening, we must hope for the best. I am sure that Petré will find his people once again. After all the meadow was intact, the waters clear and blue, nothing had entered there, not one trace, not one footstep could be found."

Before D'Annu'Elle could say anything in response. P'Arcerial spoke again, "I was telling Petré about the arcane ward we placed over the area, to hide it from prying eyes."

Petré spoke, "the T'Iea are greatly skilled with the arcane, I wonder if it is something I could master?"

P'Arcerial said excitedly, "perhaps you can, maybe it is worth undertaking some tests to see if your racial make-up would allow such a thing? You may be able to change and adapt it to your own needs, create great energies to do many marvelous things. Just as we do."

D'Annu'Elle's features straightened as he held Petré's stare, then he smiled and looked at his daughter, "yes we do, but we are also responsible for its correct use, we do not allow misuse of that skill, the gift is only to be employed for the benefit all."

Petré frowned, he was thinking of other situations where he had witnessed the T'Iea's use of their arcane knowledge and he said before he could stop himself, "like creating advanced weapons?"

D'Annu'Elle turned and gave Petré a black look. "What we use our skills for is entirely at our discretion, but we govern our skills carefully. No T'Iea would use his or her skill to the detriment of others, we are all taught that from a very early age Petré, if any pupil did not fully grasp that concept then they would be dismissed from such training, of that you can be assured." He went on explaining how the T'Iea to varying degrees from person to person could feel the threads of the arcane flowing through everything, how they could gather such threads and mould them, compress them into useful energy. He explained how T'Iea that showed extensive skill in this area were named Mages. He himself was such a Mage, one blessed with such skills, he, along with others, could exert his will over the arcane energy that powered the star ship. This energy was derived from the most powerful source of arcane energy known, something that he named the Dark Core, a phenomena that was held deep in the heart of all these star ships and gave them a limitless supply of energy and power. He said that these Dark Cores were produced naturally throughout the outer voids, they came about when a star died and collapsed in upon itself, but they could also be artificially manufactured inside these star ships using incredibly powerful machines designed by the Pnook and controlled by the T'Iea.

Petré once again asked him directly if he might learn how to control such energy.

D'Annu'Elle smiled and said that the T'Iea had evolved long ago on their home planet to command the arcane. The ability stems from being in that environment. He added that there may be a time in the future when such teaching may be offered to any humans that exhibited such a skill, but it would all hinge on any future relationships following the worlds recovery and the on-going human evolution. He added that if all went well then perhaps such teaching would not be necessary and human kind could continue to evolve and make such discoveries for themselves.

Petré nodded, he was half listening to D'Annu'Elle, but most of his thought were on other things, darker thoughts bordering on revenge and the tools of destruction, he imagined the limitless power that could be used perhaps to save his people and bring them once more into the realms of greatness. He had accused that T'Iea of wanting to control the captured drones, no doubt they could do so if they wished. It was only their self-imposed rules of non-aggression that stopped them. But the T'Iea were only one race here on the star ship, perhaps others may be more sympathetic to his and his peoples plight?

## Chapter 21. Borhran's Plans

Petré was once more back in the Keeper's sanctuary visiting his new friend Borhran. Out of everyone he knew on the star ship Borhran seemed the most willing to furnish him with everything he asked for in the way of answers to his many questions. Petré was excited, but also a little concerned, things seemed to be moving at a faster pace now, but wasn't that was what he wanted? The T'Iea seemed to be dragging their feet, they seemed to be overly cautious about everything, careful not to upset that Maker of theirs. The Keepers on the other hand, well Borhran anyway, seemed to embrace Petré's hunger for knowledge, they seemed to be less fussy about what they told him. Borhran genuinely seemed to have Petré's peoples best interests at heart. Petré decided he needed to trust someone, and Borhran had become his preferred confidant, so he offered some information. "The T'Iea created a sanctuary based upon material they recovered from my world. I think their idea is to make good my world using this material, to recover my world for me and future generations of my race."

Petré watched Borhran's face, but if the Keeper was surprised by this news then he didn't show it.

In fact Borhran seemed to shrug this off, for he said, "yes, I had been party to the proposal, a noble gesture by a noble people. One that we all have been involved in, we would like to see your world recovered Petré of course. I only hope that there is enough time left, the process of recovery will be slow and may take many generations of your kind to see it through."

This was exactly what D'Annu'Elle had said and now that he thought about it the timescales involved still caused Petré some anxiety. The world, at least the world he had left, was in steep decline and he found he was anxious to see that decline stopped and even reversed in his own lifetime, he didn't want to die of old age without knowing for sure that the recovery process was steaming ahead. Was there another way? A quicker way perhaps to recover his world.

As if to substantiate his thoughts Borhran stood and went to look out of the window. "There may be another way though my young friend. A way to get swifter action and to offer mankind a larger proportion of the task to recover his world. Your people would be more in control." Borhran turned quickly back to face Petré.

Petré was instantly alert and it showed on his face.

Borhran smiled, he held up his hand as if to slow the progress of Petré's thoughts, "the sanctuary of which you speak is fundamental in rebuilding your world of that I am sure. But it will take a long time and it would be pointless using what is there in the sanctuary at this present time. Before anything can happen the continuing conflict that plays across your world must be halted, the machines of war must be neutralised quickly and decisively. To do that a superior technology is needed."

Petré grew very excited, this was more like it, swift action, something that was aimed at saving more of his people and then giving them the power to look after themselves. Yes, this was exactly what he was looking for. "You could do this? You would undertake such a thing for me and my people?"

"Of course, I have contacts within the star ship, those that could be sympathetic to your plight I would be glad to aid your survival and future recovery."

Petré frowned, his human nature took over, "and what would you get out of this?"

Borhran smiled, "you think me a mercenary my young friend? Be at ease, we have the knowledge and the technology to help you. It does not cost me anything, so why should I demand anything from you? Apart from your assistance in this plan of course. I will need someone who knows about your world, someone who knows how to undertake certain things."

Petré nodded, "I am sorry I ....."

Borhran smiled and with a wave of his hand he replied. "Think nothing of it young man, let me ask around some acquaintances of mine. I will need a close team consisting of the right kind of people to make this happen, I shouldn't think that any of them would refuse, after all they would be aiding in a good cause."

Petré had one question nagging at his mind. "But you know that the T'Iea will not help to that degree, they will not interfere with the world at least not in the manner you suggest."

The Keeper nodded. "No. That is not their way. But there are others on the star ship that think with a more immediate frame of mind. Those that could eradicate the machines of war and in doing so pave the way for a more rapid recovery. The T'Iea are a fine people Petré, but I am sure you are aware now that although they have every good intention, they do tend to be overly cautious. This must be somewhat frustrating for you, after all you ultimately should be the decision maker as to what happens upon your world. You after all are the representative of the human race on the star ship. Are you not?"

Petré though for a while, yes, yes he was, he should have some say in what happens if not be the final decision maker. After all whatever happens will not affect the star ship and its inhabitants. Everything would happen in the world, far remote from the star ship. He looked at Borhran, "but your law does not allow you to interfere in this way?"

Borhran nodded, "yes, you are right and initially I pointed this out to those who hold responsibility on the star ship. But after much debate the decision was made to aid you, those in a position of responsibility overrode the constitutional law of the combined races. To enforce that same law as it stood would likely result in the demise of your race, as first contact had been made it was thought more prudent to offer aid. An exception was proposed, a new preference in law set. All I am doing is using this to offer a swifter solution to the same end."

Petré looked at the Keeper. He came to a further decision on trust. "What would you need?"

Borhran smiled, "very little, just your agreement and aid where necessary."

Petré didn't think this too onerous so he smiled eagerly. "Of course, you have both."

The Keeper continued. "I will also need a place beyond the star ship, a secure and secret place to gather such materials as needed to develop this technology and when all is ready to deploy it directly into the world. It would simply take too long to port everything in and out every time and it would risk us losing the element of surprise with the enemy."

Petré was excited, this all seemed to be falling together as if it were meant to be. Perhaps there was something to P'Arcerial's Maker character after all, perhaps he was being instrumental in aiding his creation. Petré spoke to Borhran of the Silo that the T'Iea had discovered. How they had agreed he would be able to return to his people. He explained how its large internal rooms would be a perfect place to house anything that Borhran needed upon the world. Borhran remained silent, he listened to everything that Petré told him with great interest. In particular Borhran was very interested in the sizeable mechanical army that was housed within each of the Silo's as a defensive measure. He asked why this army was not deployed in attacking the machines, why were they not deployed outside the Silo. Petré's answer was that control of the mechanical soldiers was limited to them being within the Silo, they were designed to protect the individual Silo from an invasion force only, to repel any enemy force that had managed to gain access into the Silo itself. Petré had said how the Silo could only be accessed via the cistern which was normally full of water, billions of gallons of the stuff. Borhran was particularly attentive to the fact that Petré admitted he could access the Silo, he had the means to drain the cistern and he would be in a good position to negotiate further plans with the inhabitants.

Borhran's thoughts wandered, he barely heard what Petré was saying after that. He only became aware of Petré again when silence fell in the room. Borhran looked at Petré, "well young man, it would seem that the sooner you can gain access to the Silo the better." Borhran inwardly smiled at the almost child-like acknowledgement that showed on Petré's features.

Borhran showed Petré to the door and watched as his visitor left, he stared at the disappearing figure through the window of his study. He was deep in thought as the figure strode off towards the portal system that would return him to the star ship. The human had visited him in his home now several times. At first Borhran was happy to explain the finer details of the universe, how his race of the Keepers navigated their way around. Borhran had smiled at the human's ignorance, it seemed for all the technological marvels the human race had created, their knowledge of the outer voids remained sadly lacking. Their war had seen to that, much historical knowledge had been lost, they seemed to remain wholly ignorant of anything before the wars. Any technological and scientific development they had made since had been concentrated solely into the products and devices of destruction. Borhran smiled slyly, but that in itself may be useful.

He thought of the T'Iea. Just like them to rescue a human even though they knew they were forbidden to do so. He continued to think they may have had some reason, some hidden agenda. He found it hard to believe that they actually did it out of some kindness, the result of some feeling of compassion. But for whatever reason, the meddling T'Iea had possibly inadvertently shown their true hand. They had even captured a drone, a war machine, they had actually breached security and brought the thing aboard the star ship! They had exposed all of them to great danger, not only the immediate danger posed by the machines weaponry, but also allowed the machine to discover them, to learn of their very existence. If the machine escaped it would have the knowledge possibly enough to destroy them. What possible reason would they have to do this other than to learn how to control the machine. Now Borhran knew the full extent of their plans and what they had done, the human Petré had been easy to fool into divulging the information. In fact the human had now given him the perfect excuse to progress his plans.

His human visitor had spoken at great length about the Silo. It was in essence two things. Firstly, a sanctuary for the remnants of human society, a society upon the brink of extinction. Secondly and more importantly to Borhran, it was quite obviously a well defended and hidden military facility. It contained many interesting military artefacts. Weaponry, although not the same as that available on the star ship. But most interesting of all the Silo contained a powerful fighting force of mechanical soldiers. This army was limited in its capability at the present time. But if he could take command of that mechanical army deep under the desert sands within the Silo, improve them, he would have a ready-made army, one that did not need persuading to his cause, an army that would obey him without question. With the knowledge of his people and the right transport systems he could take them anywhere, much farther even than any of their human designers ever envisaged in their war-corrupted and imagination-limited minuscule minds. No, he would use that army to far greater effect. He would use it to further his own ambition and that of his people. They would no longer be at the beck and call of the T'Iea, they would stand alone, they would be recognised for what they really were. He smiled and whispered to himself, they could even become the masters.

Borhran chided his thoughts, he was getting ahead of himself. His features then become a scowl. He also knew that the human Petré held one T'Iea in particular in high regard. She was a high ranking official, a Commander in the T'Iea Legion. Not only that she was the daughter of his intended victim, the current leader of the combined races. However there was a small inconvenience in this plan. Borhran liked the daughter, ever since he had met her there in the library, she was beautiful and had an inner strength worthy of any of her race. It was sickening the way the human crooned over her, spoke her name with such affection and desire. Borhran also suspected that she responded in a positive fashion. He had seen them, witnessed the looks that they shared. But how could she have such feelings for such an insignificant being. Darkness in the form of jealousy rose in his heart. He shook himself, such feelings, such emotion. He shivered, what was the matter with him? Attraction between the sexes, his race had rejected such long ago as meaningless pursuits. They had control of time and had become immortal, the need to reproduce was not an urgent requirement. Their reproduction, such that it may be, was a much more practical thing. Solely a thing born of the need to reproduce, a need to replace those who had ceased to function, a one-for-one replacement to maintain the population. Only very occasionally was there deemed to be a need to increase the Keeper population to replenish their numbers and this need was arranged, managed carefully and clinically, there was no actual physical intimacy involved, even though they were still capable of such acts. What did they need with such a primitive motivation getting in the way of their objectives.

Borhran frowned. Yet for some time now, although he would not admit it to anyone, he felt primitive feelings within him, especially lust and anger, both were becoming an ever stronger controlling factor. He shivered, fear was also a consideration, fear of himself. He told himself all this was a weakness of the mind.

As the minutes passed his breathing slowed and he was able to focus more. No! he had no need for these irrational thoughts. Not like these other races, a mind numbingly debilitating weakness, born of the need to satisfy some primitive desire, an expression of mutual love? Where in the world was there a need for that! But never the less, this could also prove to his advantage, he could perhaps build upon such a weakness between the human and the T'Iea? Especially a T'Iea woman that had connections of great influence within the Star Ship.

Petré had told him that the Silos were being systematically hunted out and destroyed, over the years many had most probably fallen to this fate, Petré did not know how many had survived if any at all. Borhran would not let this happen to the possibly last remaining Silo. But the T'Iea knew of this Silo, he needed to secure it for himself before they decided to investigated further. If they ended up discovering all the Silo contained, then all would be lost, his plans withering and dying before he even got started. They would be sure to return to it sooner than later, this he knew. He needed that Silo, he knew that Petré intended to go to the Silo, but for his plan to work he needed to ensure that Petré went there without the full military guard the T'Iea no doubt intended to send with him. But in any event it was doubtful the human would go there alone, he couldn't get there without transportation via the star ships portal system and thus alerting unnecessary interest. But what if the daughter went as well, just the two of them. If the T'Iea had placed a ward to hide the Silo, then the human would need T'Iea expertise to infiltrate the shroud. If he could persuade Petré to go alone with the daughter, then perhaps he would have the opportunity to succeed and he would have the Silo.

Borhran turned and walked back into his room. Thoughts had been seeded in his mind. Thoughts that no others could find out about, dangerous plans were being made, beneath a false veneer, a cloak of innocence. How he rejoiced, he couldn't help it. He had the perfect justification, if no one believed him before, well they would listen now. The T'Iea had plans for exploiting the human, of that he was sure, he was also sure they had far wider ambitions. He laughed quietly to himself. But he would snatch the opportunity from under their very noses, he would get there first. He would gain the confidence of the combined races, he would show how they would be far better off with him in command. They would no longer trust the T'Iea.

But first things first. The first thing he needed doing was to ensure the security of his Silo, gain access to it and build the beginnings of his army. Once this was done he would have a better idea of the resources he could utilise to further his other long term plans. He knew he would not get any sleep this night. He had much to think about, many plans to formulate. Find a way to persuade and influence the others that would be needed for their skills, knowledge and expertise. He smiled, but that would not be difficult, after all they were acting to aid the humans, to save their race. They would form a charitable group, able to help those who could not help themselves. Borhran felt very pleased.

## Chapter 22. The Eastern Lands

The Pnook overseer looked down from the flying ship onto a landscape that unsettled him greatly. His orders where to find the point in the worlds surface where the arcane energy poured forth unabated. Fulfilment of that part had been easy; the masses of arcane energy could be detected from half a world away. With that much free energy, he had suspected that the area would be unstable, but nothing compared to the reality. He viewed the area below him through special lenses in his goggles. The ground seemed to be solid, predominantly covered in sand or soil, but it was the sickly hues of colour that ran thought it that made him very reticent to land his craft. The colours reminded him of the times he had watched the Grûndén metal smiths working, how as they heated the various materials in the arcane flames of their forges, similar coloured hues raced across the surface of the metal. The Grûndén smith would watch closely for certain patterns and colours and when they were satisfied the hues were at their optimum they cooled the metal as quickly as possible. The hissing steam that rose from the cooling water took on those same coloured hues as the metal it cooled. Well here in this land wherever standing water could be seen in pools and ponds, those same colours swirled around like oil floating on the surface. It all looked very unnatural, poisonous, metallic. It was quite apparent that arcane energies flowed across this place in vast quantities and in a manner that was completely uncontrolled. It affected the natural order of things, tainted everything.

All of a sudden a strong side force whipped across the deck of the flying ship. It hit the bow first and the ship spun around off course, the overseer had to grasp hold of a handle in front of him as the craft tilted alarmingly to one side. Several of the crew who had been standing on deck lost their footing and went sliding down to hit the gunwale hard. The overseer looked on helplessly at his floundering crew, unable to do anything to help as he held on to the rail in front of the control desk to stop himself suffering the same. The engine stabilisers screamed in their efforts to right the craft and regain the set course. One hapless deck hand was lying across the gunwale and before he or any other could do anything he was pitched over the edge with a scream. The overseer looked on in horror as the ship continued to pitch and yaw horribly; he watched the point on the gunwale where the deck hand had gone over. But then a scream was heard from above, the overseer tore his eyes from the spot on the gunwale and looked up to see the same deck hand fall from the cloudy sky above and land with a thump back on the rolling deck at the same place he was standing before his fateful slide. He continued to scream and wave his arms and legs around but then he seemed to recognise where he was. He stopped and raised himself into a crawling position a shocked expression on his face, he seemed to come to a decision, became sure of where he was and the sobbing subsided, he just stared around him with a look of utter astonishment, then he began to laugh uncontrollably.

That first turbulent disruption had only lasted a minute or two and now the flying ship had suddenly righted itself and again flew straight and level as if nothing had happened. The overseer stepped up to the stern of the ship and looked behind expecting to see something, what he expected to see he didn't know. They had obviously flown through some kind of very localised storm. But to his astonishment nothing could be seen. No tell-tale movement of air filled with dust and debris. He looked back; the deck hand was now standing running his hands over himself as if trying to make sure he was still all there. Every piece of metal on him, buttons, belt buckle, the projectile weapon in its holster at his side, all glowed brightly with those sickly hues of colour, but this faded after some seconds until nothing could be seen.

The overseer realised that the turbulence they had experienced was not caused by any violent movement of air, no, something completely different had caused their discomfort. He tore his gaze from the deck hand and looked forward, he flipped up the lenses of his goggles and raised binoculars to his eyes, he did not want to pass through another of those turbulent arcane areas again if he could help it, no telling what form they may take. He suspected that the one they had suffered was a strong one, but he didn't want to test his theory. As if on cue the deck started to heave once again, the feeling in the pit of the overseer's stomach told him that the craft was falling, once again the engines screamed to compensate. He waited until the turbulence stopped then ordered the craft to descend, he suspected this turbulence to be mostly concentrated higher up where it spread out from the Rift, he hoped that nearing the ground would alleviate the problem. Even so the overseer knew that detecting these anomalies would not be an easy thing, however he also knew that he had what he needed to detect them on board. He shouted orders telling all those not needed on deck to get below, and any deck hands remaining on deck should put on storm harnesses to attach themselves to the ship at all times. Once satisfied the overseer stepped into his own leather harness and attached the double hooks onto the metal rails that run around the gunwales, he made sure he screwed up the locking mechanism tight. He reached down to a funnel like device and blew into it then spoke into the tube. Minutes later four T'Iea came up from below, the overseer explained to their leader, master Gh'Er'T what he suspected and he nodded. The four then walked to the four corners of the craft, two aft and to fore, and closed their eyes in concentration. The overseer pursed his lips in satisfaction, at least the mages should be able to detect the concentrations of arcane energy and they would have a warning if further disturbances lay in the path.

Then in the distance the overseer saw it. He gasped, nothing could have prepared him for the sight that lay ahead. They had found what they had been looking for and they didn't need any expertise in arcane knowledge to detect it. Those on deck noticed the expression on the overseer's face and dreading what they would see looked in the same direction as he. There ahead, how far ahead was difficult to say, but there in front of them was a sight to instil fear upon the bravest. A vast swirling column of pure arcane energy flowed from the ground high into the sky above and then spread out in a blanket of swirling coloured oily looking mass across the sky blotting out everything above. It must have gone kilometres upwards and then spread out when it contacted with the various arcane energies originating from other such bodies in the outer void surrounding this world.

An hour later saw the Pnook air ship within a kilometre of the Rift vent. Now the four T'Iea mages sent by T'D'Annu'Elle to accompany them were standing together at the gunwale looking at the raging wall of power rushing up from the ground and entering the upper atmosphere where it changed direction to horizontal and spread out high above them like an electric storm. The overseer was quite used to the T'Iea as a people, but these mages made the skin on the back of his neck crawl. Their leader, the one they called Gh'Er'T, was typical of his race, taller than any Pnook, long black hair tumbled down his back over the hood of his robe, dark skin and wherever it could be seen was covered in tattoos and other markings, many metal hoops and other shaped earrings covered the lobes of his long ears. The overseer knew that most T'Iea mages favoured such adornments, why he couldn't say, it just made them look daunting, fearful even, perhaps that was the reason they wore such things. The tattoos reminded him of the swirling mass of arcane energy that he could see rising from the Rift. Gh'Er'T and his three T'Iea companions stood in a close circle, their hoods were now drawn over their heads hiding there features, their hands were stuffed into the loose sleeves of their robes. The Pnook overseer couldn't decide what he felt more unsure of, these four T'Iea or the Rift itself. His attention went once more towards the power rising from the great rend in the worlds surface, he wondered what may happen if they asked him to fly into it, even fly any closer. He shifted nervously from one foot to the other.

Gh'Er'T took in a deep breath and turned to face the overseer, "you will be no doubt glad to hear master overseer that I recommend we set the flying ship down here. My colleagues and myself shall then disembark, we will travel the rest of the way to the Rift on foot."

The overseer couldn't contain his joy at this news, he smiled broadly, "of course T'Gh'Er'T, of course."

Before the mage could change his mind the overseer barked orders at his crew, he walked swiftly to the gunwale and looking over the side scrutinising the landscape below. It looked a mess, it all looked a mess, it would make no difference where they settled, the mages were likely to get their feet wet anywhere around here, but that was not his concern, he was under orders and he intended carrying those orders out.

The four mages easily covered the distance from the drop-off point to the edge of the Rift. They were T'Iea, they knew how to travel light footed and efficiently. But now the four stood in a line looking down into a vast rend in the worlds crust, watching the arcane energy bursting forth like a raging torrent. The bizarre thing was the silence, the perceived movement should have been deafening, indeed if this energy were wind or water, the noise it made would be so raucous nothing else could have been heard above it. But this was arcane energy, the mages knew that the movement was in fact a trick of the eye, what they actually witnessed was light being bent by the abnormally increased density of the mass of the Rifts substance. They risked being sucked into the rift they were so close, it was only through their ability to control such energy that they managed to stay immune to its forces.

Gh'Er'T eventually walked forward from the other three, he drew both hands from out of the sleeves of his robes. He then extended one hand forward slowly, as he did so he pointed his index finger towards the Rift. A tendril of power broke free from the column of energy like a thin hair. This thickened gradually and attached itself to Gh'Er'T's outstretched finger. As it made contact the mage jumped as if he received an electric shock, the other three mages seemed to brace themselves. Gh'Er'T's hand started to shake, the energy strand seemed to grow around his finger tip then crawl along his finger until it reached the knuckle joint with his palm. It didn't stop but continued to envelop his whole hand covering it in a light blue hew, the other mages shifted on their feet, sweat trickled down Gh'Er'T's brow, he closed his eyes in concentration.

## Chapter 23. Gh'Er'T's Report

D'Annu'Elle's most experienced mage, master Gh'Er'T, stood across the other side of the desk. D'Annu'Elle felt some unease in the presence of this person, he always did. Gh'Er'T was a knowledgeable and powerful user of the arcane, the most experienced D'Annu'Elle had ever met. He had seen what Gh'Er'T could do. Throughout their history the star ship had encountered times when they were forced to engage in battle for their own survival, as a last resort, D'Annu'Elle had used Gh'Er'T and his mages in a defensive situation and watched appalled at the destruction they could wreak. What really worried him during these times was that Gh'Er'T seemed to take some enjoyment from these battles and sometimes it was difficult to get him to withdraw. This is what really worried D'Annu'Elle about the mage. He always hoped that they would never have to resort to such ever again. But, despite the mages slight unpredictability he was always obedient to what was asked of him.

Gh'Er'T was reporting on the recent exploration of the Rift. The report initially explained how they had found an immense concentration of arcane energy, but that much was expected; they had known this to be the case even before they had the chance for a closer inspection. But now Gh'Er'T was trying to explain something else entirely. Something completely different and unexpected, he had tried to explain how something else had been discovered, something unique that was contained within the unlimited and uncontrolled arcane power.

"I do not know for sure what it was I sensed within the Rift T'D'Annu'Elle, I did not expect to find anything other than the sporadic high levels of arcane energy we knew to be present. Perhaps I should have found out more. As you know these probes should have been inactive reflections only. What I detected were not only inactive, but also active components. Something was pushing back, in effect an active probe coming in the other direction from a source other than my own. I did not for one moment expect a form of intelligence within the Rift! I may have reacted a little prematurely, perhaps I should have investigated further. But you understand if something had the ability to control the energy within the Rift then my personal security could have been compromised. Initially I probed inside the Rift in an effort to gain some measure of the energy present.

D'Annu'Elle nodded, "I believe you acted in the best interests of your own security master Gh'Er'T, I would have probably done the same if it were me. But I do remain greatly concerned as to what form this intelligence, as you call it, may take. We do not know what it was that you briefly had an encounter with."

Gh'Er'T seemed to think for a few minutes before answering. "I felt a presence, of that I have no doubt, the probe it issued had some urgency about it, for something to have done this it must have at least a rudimentary understanding of the energy within the Rift.. That is why I would assume it to have some form of conscious higher intelligence. But the form did not sound malevolent, although I detected some guarding, I definitely felt fear and discomfort, a sense of being trapped. I can of course believe that to be true, the energy flow is very chaotic; it does not follow any predictable patterns. In its current state it would be impossible to attempt any control over it, form without or within, to do so would most probably result in further imbalances that could move the flows in an adverse way and risk great destructive powers being released."

D'Annu'Elle remained in thought, the mage waited silently. The Rift was turning out to be more than he had bargained for. His initial thoughts took the line that his most experienced mages would gather enough information to render it safe and under control, after some planning of course. The humans had opened it in ignorance of what they were doing, they did not first ensure that all the safety measures they should have put in place were first installed, but then they did not know anything of the arcane, they were dabbling with forces they did not understand. Whereas his people the T'Iea were very used to dealing with the arcane energies. But clearly they were going to have a struggle to do anything with it. But now there was another facet to the complexity, there was perhaps an intelligent life form living within the Rift, whatever they did they needed to understand the risk that any action they undertook may pose to any sentient life form that may reside within the Rift, especially if the Rift energy was crucial to that life forms survival.

To try and understand what it was they were dealing with D'Annu'Elle sought confirmation for his fears. "I understand master Gh'Er'T. You say you are quite sure you detected a presence, a form of intelligence within the Rift. A life form perhaps, a conscious living individual? Maybe more than one?"

"Yes, but just a single individual consciousness, whether there are others I could not say. But this individual was most definitely alive, well at least compared to whatever else the Rift represents. The intelligence definitely had rational thought, appeared to fully understand the predicament in which it found itself." Gh'Er'T paused then he added, "I believe it asked for our aid T' D'Annu'Elle."

"Do you think the arcane energy within the Rift could have developed intelligence of some kind? If this is the case then it is the first time I have ever come across such a thing."

"If you are asking me does the Rift exhibit a life form as we understand it T'D'Annu'Elle then I would have to answer no. As you may expect, the Rift energy comprises almost entirely of arcane sources, arcane energy is a benign force in itself, it does not possess the ability to control itself rather it just obeys the set laws of physics, rules drawn up when the universe itself was first conceived. The physical laws laid down by a far superior being than I. I do not believe it possible that life itself could evolve from this kind of energy source without other outside ingredients. But the arcane energy is of a sort that if converted could sustain an already conscious form, especially if that form was of a kind that could be maintained by such a converted energy. I have never heard of such a thing, but in theory any sentient nucleus with the potential to sustain some sort of awareness or life could conceivably survive using the Rift energies if it were able to harness such energy into a form of sustenance. Just because we biological beings require oxygen to breath and nutrients to sustain us, it does not mean that other life forms do not exist, perhaps requiring differing types of sustenance."

"Then if we experiment with the Rift we may risk putting this life form in some danger?"

"It is a consideration. I have thought of this myself. With your permission of course, I would like to spend some more time trying to find out exactly what it is we are dealing with here. Perhaps the intelligence within the Rift may be able to provide answers, even help us to develop control over the Rift."

D'Annu'Elle stared at the mage. He understood what the mage was feeling, after all this time, this phenomena, the intelligence and the Rift itself presented these academics with an irresistible focus for their curiosity. But they still couldn't be sure what they were dealing with here, if this intelligence had a hidden motivation of some kind, if it was part of a forgotten military undertaking, something that was left over from an earlier stage of the war, well they could be threatening the world if they weren't careful. But they needed to find out more that must be a priority. "Very good master Gh'Er'T, by all means do your experiments and whatever else you wish. But there are two conditions, firstly you do not act alone. You will always have at least two others with you whilst any work of such a nature is undertaken, these others must be kept appraised of what is planned and unless all three unanimously agree, then no further investigation is to take place. Secondly you will also report daily to me on your findings. Paramount to everything master Gh'Er'T, you will not attempt anything that may cause the destruction of the Rift or place in danger you or any of your staff or anyone else for that matter."

"Of course T'D'Annu'Elle."

D'Annu'Elle turned from the mage and returned to his desk seat where he sat down. "The Rift requires taming master Gh'Er'T, this is crucial if we are to even begin the recovery process for the world of men, I sympathise with your wanting to find out as much about it as possible, but I must not delay in the goal of bring the Rift back under control. You understand me?"

The mage bowed low and said, "of course T'D'Annu'Elle, it shall be so, just as you order." The mage took this to be his cue to leave the company of his leader; so bowing he turned and made for the door to D'Annu'Elle's office. But before he exited he said, "there is something else D'Annu'Elle."

D'Annu'Elle leant back in his chair and looked at the mage in expectation.

"I felt something else through the Rift, it was faint and well hidden, but there were others in the area, not within the Rift itself but outside. Their signatures were present which means that others have already probed the Rift, even used it partially for an as yet unknown purpose. These signatures were but faint residues, residues that I would expect to be left behind for instance if I, or one of the other mages used some of the Rift energy, or converted it at some time. I suspect there may be a population of some kind in the vicinity of the Rift, a small community, a community of sentient beings. I would like to say they felt human and they did, but there was something else, a confusion about them. If you wish I can explore this also, try and find out who these others may be?"

D'Annu'Elle thought for a while, "you concentrate on the Rift master Gh'Er'T, that remains the priority here. I will look into your other suspicions. If there is a human population in the area they should be told of our intentions at least, maybe they have some knowledge of the Rift and whatever may lie within."

After the mage had gone D'Annu'Elle frowned. He would give them a week or so and then he must make a decision about what to do about the Rift. But one thing troubled him, he had long suspected that there was a human population in the east, a population whose ancestors had set the Rift free in the beginning. He needed to make contact with them, find out what they knew, only then could he really make any informed decision about how to safely proceed. But there was one thing worrying him. These others would more than likely turn out to be what was left of the opposing human civilisation in the war that had raged, they would be Petré's enemies. This could cause trouble especially if Petré found out, even if his daughter found out. He must be cautious; he must hide his intentions until he found out more.

His daughter and the human had asked him if they could go to investigate the Silo in the desert. At first he had refused, but perhaps if he allowed them to go then perhaps he would have the time to act in their absence. Then he could travel into the east and search for this human population.

## Chapter 24. The Entity's Plight

The Entity become vaguely aware of consciousness, its main functional operating system had rebooted several times, but still some of its supporting subroutines and interfaces had not yet restarted. Slowly things came back to normal, it proceeded to run checks and sort out some corruptions, it had to reboot itself several more times but this time consciously. Eventually the entity rejoiced, somehow it had made it and was now still safely within the drone inside the column of energy. It had survived!

Once it was sure that it was fully operational again it started to consider its position. The humans in the east must have created the source of the energy column first. But the fools had let loose something so powerful and so uncontrolled that it now threatened the world. The entity pondered its position. It found itself within a place where it could draw on an unlimited amount of power that was for certain, theoretically all it had to do was make the adaptations necessary to create the necessary nodal interfaces to be able to tap into the energy. However, this new power source was chaotic, its uncontrolled state complicated the design of the subroutines, they would have to include some fail-safe monitoring that would continually adjust and fine tune to the state of flux in the Rift. This would make it impractical to convert the energy except in small amounts at a time. It felt frustrated, for the first time in a long while it felt it did not have complete control over things. It had entered the Rift in an attempt to survive, it had been forced to find a hosting source of energy quickly, for the accursed humans were about to destroy its then current host, the drone in which the Entity flew. If it hadn't taken the opportunity of entering the Rift it would have been destroyed along with the drone.

So there it was then, the result was a partial pay-off. Well it would bide its time, see what opportunities arose. At least it didn't have to worry about a power source that it had in plenty. Perhaps it could find a way to control the Rift energy to an extent where it would be useful. The priority was to find a way to control the flow enough so that it might make contact with its drones in the outside world once again.

Its thoughts turned to a more recent event, something curious that it did not expect. There was a presence that had probed the Rift from the outside. This presence did not seem to seek the Entity, it seemed merely there to probe the Rift itself. The entity had become angry at this intrusion, thinking that the humans were searching for it so its first thought was to destroy the presence for it may pose a threat to the Entity itself or even prove competition for the Rifts energy, but there was a great risk in this destruction given that the Entity still did not understand what it was dealing with in the way of energy sources in the Rift and was still unable to control that energy efficiently. There was no guarantee that the Entity would not destroy itself in the process. Secondly in its weakened state it did not want to be discovered, if it were and this presence had more knowledge of the Rift energy, then the overarching risk was that the Entity be destroyed very easily. So it tried to draw gently upon the energy of the Rift, tried to grasp the presence. But it was impossible, the energy would not stay stable enough to be controlled.

What form the presence took and what it searched for, the entity did not know. What it did understand however to its dismay was that this presence had the capability, the knowledge and the expertise to control the energies within the Rift, exactly what the Entity needed. The presence seemed to have a natural gift in this control. This led the Entity to believe that this presence was not human after all for no human had the knowledge to control the Rift that it knew for sure. The presence kept itself closely guarded at all times, there was no chance that the entity, at least in its current state, could exert any control over this presence even though this is what the Entity dearly desired. But if it could persuade the presence to let down its guard, persuade it to teach the entity something of the method of control, then perhaps things would be different. The presence could be an invaluable ally, and an even more valuable asset if the Entity could learn how to gain that same control.

The entity pondered on that first contact. This presence had brought an unusual harmony within the chaotic substance of the Rift energy. The entity had watched cautiously, then suddenly as the presence felt a little more secure in its probing it reached out further. The presence felt vaguely human, but there was something different, this human-like presence exhibited other characteristics that the Entity had never felt in a human node before. Curiosity got the better of it and the Entity risked probing further itself. On detecting the Entity the presence immediately pulled back, it obviously did not expect anything sentient to be found within the Rift. The Entity cried out by pushing further towards the presence using more and more power. It remembered crying out for help in its desperation, telling of how it needed to escape, the Entity was in fear of losing what maybe it's only chance of improving the situation in which it found itself. But the presence had backed away, it had gone from the Rift.

The entity chided itself, it had been too rash, at best an opportunity had been frightened away, or at worst a potential enemy now knew of its existence. The entity felt something it had inherited through its semi-biological drones, it felt fear. But to its utter surprise, and to the entity's great delight, the presence returned. The entity was much more cautious this time, it took a great deal of self-control not to rush out and try to absorb the presence, to rush in and capture it so that it couldn't escape once again. But the Entity's caution paid off, the presence itself probed inwards searching for the Entity, it stayed and this time the Entity noticed something else, some kind of barrier, a shield surrounded the presence, the entity heard a question. "What? Who are you?"

"I am ....." But the entity stopped itself, it did not want to frighten this presence away again by explaining exactly what it was, it needed to know more first before it came clean. So it decided to take a different tack. "I am trapped. I do not know how I got to be within this energy stream, but I cannot escape it or do anything with it, the energy flux is chaotic, beyond any kind of normal control. I cannot grasp it or find a way out."

The presence was silent for a while, "Yes, we found this also, we are trying to decide how we may tap into the energy, how we may subdue it and reduce its chaotic nature."

The Entity thought quickly, if this presence thought it could subdued the energy, then the Entity would indeed benefit, "perhaps I can help? I am here on the other side, here on the inside, I may be able to work with you to achieve this goal?"

"I do not know, I must ask - others must decide. I do not have the authority."

"PLEASE, please, save me, I am trapped here, I must get out or diminish and cease to exist."

"Be calm, I will return once I have answers. There are others that may have the capability to create an escape path for you, make a portal that you may pass through. We will try and save you, but we need to find out more."

The Entity pleaded with the presence but it was no use it had no choice but to play along, it forced itself to relax, forced the natural anger it harboured down. "Thank you. I have been here so long, this is the first contact with any outside intelligence I have had since I found myself consumed by this energy."

The new presence once again withdrew, but it had left behind tantalisingly snippets of information, of expertise and knowledge. There was more than one of them for the shield around the presence was generated by a second, maybe even a third separate presence, this proved they had an organised hierarchy and some special skill that the Entity new nothing of. The Entity became excited for it found itself wondering what these presences knew, what heights of expertise and knowledge they may have at their command. Already they had proven themselves to be far superior to the humans that the entity was used to. These had a far superior intellect and capability, that much was obvious.

How sweet it would feel to create a new army of machines, but this time machines that had the minds of these new beings. The Entity felt elation, out there somewhere were others, perhaps many others that could prove very useful.

But first it must gain the confidence of these others, its biggest fear would be that they allied with the humans in the east. If this were to prove the case then it was sure its days would be numbered. How frustrating, it was weak, weaker than it had ever been, yet in this weakened state it had been presented with perhaps the biggest opportunity in its history. There was no doubt, the Entity had to play this carefully, it had to get to know these others, it needed them, nurture them and when the time came, it would rule them.

## Chapter 25. The Mage and the Navigator

Gh'Er'T stood within the main temple complex of the Keepers in their city of TeraT'Inu'Itil. He had just participated in an audience with their leader, the Grand Master, a meeting that also included the keeper navigator Borhran whom he knew already. Gh'Er'T had asked if it may be at all possible to create a suitable portal to allow the intelligence in the Rift to escape the confines of its prison. Now Gh'Er'T and Borhran strolled through the temple gardens discussing what had been said during the meeting. The meeting had gone well, Borhran had been authorised to help with the problem of the Rift, so Gh'Er'T was feeling relieved, he had the necessary expertise to aid him. The Keepers had agreed however that nothing could be attempted until the Rift was brought under some semblance of control. To attempt a stable portal in such a chaotic environment would be unwise. Gh'Er'T was now explaining some theories but Borhran did not seem to be listening too intently. Gh'Er'T continued to speak, "this would be far more controllable especially if the process was continually sensing the arcane energy levels and was able to adjust its pull automatically. I am thinking of some kind of energy conversion device, I am sure that the Pnook could design some form of machinery that would respond to a specific operating criteria set out as part of the design."

But Borhran was thinking along other lines for he had no intention of sending all of that usable energy somewhere it could not be accessed, no that would be a waste, if some of the tamed energy could be secreted away somehow he could use any amounts he required for his own purpose.

Gh'Er'T was still talking. "I suspect that to do so would not be too unlike the containment fields and controls associated with the Dark Cores installed on the star ship. It would need a suitable power source to drive the containment coils, the Rift itself would present such an energy source, but that would also present a risk in itself, if some kind of feedback loop manifested itself the Rift may break free. The only alternative I can think of would be to utilise a Dark Core, but to house one within the world would present a very high risk."

Borhran held up a hand. "I agree, we should inquire of the Pnook Master Gh'Er'T, see if they could come up with a suitable design and a suitable safe power source, But at the same time I would like to propose an alternative solution. I propose that a large key stone installed above the Rift, carefully tuned of course, would be simpler and perhaps more reliable solution as it would be completely autonomous and not require any power source. There would be the need to control the Rift energy of course, focus it into the stone, but the Pnook should be able to concoct a containment coil installation. Borhran was excited but he did his best to subdue his feelings. "The keystone would then provide a focus for fluctuating energy and could also provide a link into the voids where it could be dissipated. In his own mind he thought "or stored!"

Gh'Er'T seemed to ponder this for a while before he spoke. "How large would the key stone have to be?"

Borhran sighed. "I cannot say I'm afraid but it would be have to be large. Perhaps you could use your races friendship and influence with the Grûndén for mining the necessary mineral for the stone. If you could persuade them to send miners out into the voids to obtain sufficient quantities to be made into a single block large enough to form the key stone, then I will ask my people to find a suitable void through which to dissipate the energy, then I am sure we can accomplish what we seek.

Gh'Er'T smiled, "rest assured master Borhran I shall speak with T'D'Annu'Elle to see if he can use his influence with the Grûndén at the first opportunity." Gh'Er'T nodded, all this was starting to become feasible, well it sounded good anyway, he was glad he had been chosen for this task and Borhran was becoming and invaluable asset in the design and execution of the project. For the first time he really felt that this could actually happen. He remembered the Grûndén, had already asked D'Annu'Elle many times to allow them to mine in the voids whilst the star ship was stationary, they were a greedy bunch at times, forever seeking the riches of the earth. They sort minerals, stones, they liked nothing more than to dig holes and then fashion fine things from what they found. If D'Annu'Elle allowed them to mine the voids, perhaps they would find enough key stone mineral, in payment they could keep any minerals of value and anything else they found.

Borhran started to walk towards the habitational area of the forest. Gh'Er'T followed and when he was alongside Borhran he said. "I will send my most trusted mages to the Rift to further explore the energy and find out what may be done, at the very least they should be able to make some measurements so that you can more accurately size the key stone and to allow the Pnook would have some idea of what they are up against. I will also speak with T'D'Annu'Elle and describe our proposal to him."

Borhran nodded but remained deep within his own thoughts.

## Chapter 26. The Eastern Peoples

The man stepped through the door of his simple croft and looked upwards to the sky. Well, he would have looked at the sky if he could have seen it, but as usual the oily arcane energy from the Rift blotted out everything as it spread out from the stem-like column spewing forth from the Rift. It was like viewing one of the sickly mushrooms that plagued some areas of the land, the thick spongy stem spreading out to the fleshy underside above. This had been the case for all the years of his life and all the generations before him as far as he could remember. The Rift continued to spread, expanding its field of influence steadily until at the present time it spread like a blanket over some thousands of square kilometres of the eastern continent. The man frowned, chided himself at having had the foolish hope that this day it may have been any different, yet he had felt something, something that pulled on him and made him think of change.

He, like his father and his father before him had a special gift, they could not only see the spreading arcane energy, but also feel it. It felt like a tingle on the skin, like a soft breeze blowing the hairs on his arm. Normally it felt - there, just there, a presence that he was used to from birth, but today he had felt something else. A new sensation, it tugged at his very being. He had felt a tug on his mind as if some unknown force had brushed across his senses, gently touched him. He had shuddered, as he rose from his bed his wife looked concerned as she placed a hand upon his arm. Turning he looked into her eyes. "It felt although someone had walked across my grave." His wife had smiled and shaken her head. But to him this was no simple thing shrugged off in a few choice words, he wished it were, no this was a pushing aside of the energy flow from within the Rift, he was sure he felt something enter the area of the Rift, felt sure that some outside force had interfered with the flow of energy.

So he had dressed and come outside as if expecting something. The chill of the morning soaked into his bones and he shivered. He searched above and around, he half expected an attack, war drones come to harvest his and his peoples most precious commodity. His wife pulled the leather flap back that served as a door to the croft, before he could secure it closed once again his wife pushed a hand and her head through the gap, a concerned face looked out at him. He waved the face back into the croft and pulled the leather covering shut once again securing it with the rope tie that served that purpose.

He turned to look towards the Rift. There it was, the Rift still hung there bathing the lands below in its eerie arcane light. Then he saw them. Three shapes flying high up across the sky. They were silver in colour, long and thin. At first he thought his suspicions were confirmed new machines had come to attack them. But somehow he knew that these machines did not present a threat. Maybe it was the years and generations of experience his family had, but he just knew this was not unfriendly, yet also not knowingly friendly either. He watched they slowed and then stopped high above and just hung there in the air.

His wife's questioning voice spoke from inside the croft, "Viruse?"

The man Viruse turned his head, but kept his eyes on the flying craft. "Stay here, do not leave the croft until I return." Then as if he suddenly received some strong resolve he took in a deep breath and grasped the heavy wooden staff that leant against the wall next to the door and walked away from his home. He had been meaning to visit the Rift, ever since his scouts had reported seeing war drones in the area. The scouts had called in reinforcements and the war drones had been destroyed, but he couldn't help feeling something else was amiss. Without further hesitation he strode off through the village. Those he passed acknowledged him with a nod or a smile, he instructed them to move quickly into their homes, none questioned his orders for he was their 'Taeklan', their leader. He passed the simple arch in the surrounding wicker fence that served as the boundary of the village. Here he raised his staff and called out. He waited as the scream of engines grew louder and louder. Two shapes raced towards him over the scrub, he didn't move an inch. Within minutes two war drones buzzed above him but they did not attack, he spoke to them, one slowly descended until the man was able to jump onto the side of its hull and edge himself towards the centre where he sat cross-legged, his staff lay across his knees. He asked them to fly in the direction he indicated. Anyone who watched this strange behaviour would think it even more strange as the strange party flew out across the barren land, the man spoke to the drones of his curiosity as if they were old friends passing the time of day. For old friends they may well have been - once.

D'Annu'Elle looked down from the gunwale of the Pnook airship. Below him was a dying land. Irregular currents blew plumes of dry dust and sand into the air, swirling debris moved in small and sometimes large spinning cones of moving air. The few sickly looking plants that grew amongst the skeletons of trees long dead were distorted and twisted. All growth was in torment for the escaping energy from the Rift blotted out the sunlight and instead bathed the land in an eerie unnatural light. Between war and this loose arcane energy, the landscape was a tortured chaos. He could feel the effects on everything. In places the arcane seemed dormant, in others it was rampant. But then in places nature as always was fighting back. There were occasional trees but all had leaves of a green-brown colour as if in a permanent state of autumnal preparation. There were some small pools of clear water amongst the oily looking sludge that collected in feted pools reeking of death and marsh gas. He asked the Pnook overseer to stop the ship above one such clear pool, for he had glimpsed the flash of scales and the struggling colour of a water lily. Evolution was trying to win back a foothold. He was amazed at the worlds ability to recover, even here where a thousand years of unabated sickness had been played out.

A further hour's flight and they were there, or as close as they dare fly in the increasingly turbulent arcane currents that now threatened to blow the craft around the sky. The Pnook airship had dropped down to almost ground level and now D'Annu'Elle watched as the Pnook industrially unloaded equipment from the hold of the three large airships. He turned to look at the Rift. Still a few kilometres away, he had to admit it looked foreboding, he could feel the hairs on his scalp prickle as he watched the massive twisting column of energy shoot vertically into the sky and disperse outwards beneath the world's upper atmosphere where it met with the freezing coldness of the voids. After a few minutes all was ready and they started out across the shifting wind-blown barren lands towards the Rift.

There was a lot of equipment to move and progress was slow. D'Annu'Elle nodded at his two T'Iea guards and the three stepped up their pace to a jog and moved on ahead of the column and see what could be found. They left the Pnook struggling with the masses of machinery that they had brought with them and jogged on. After a while one of the soldiers took the broadsword from across his back and levelled the weapon in readiness, he looked around warily mostly to their left.

"You feel something C'Or'Al?"

"Aye, T'D'Annu'Elle. Something I have felt before in the desert whilst on patrol. Something that would destroy us."

Before D'Annu'Elle could enquire further a movement beyond the Rift made him squint into the half-light. But soon whatever it was had disappeared back into the gloom. The other T'Iea soldier, a ranger had drawn his bow and was levelling the weapon at the point where the thing had disappeared. D'Annu'Elle placed his hand on the T'Iea soldiers forearm staying his aim. "Wait."

"But T'D'Annu'Elle, I also have seen such before. These machines attack without mercy, they seem to have a singular desire to kill. They cannot be reasoned with."

But D'Annu'Elle was looking slightly to the right of where the drone had once been. There he saw something else. A human man walked towards them. The man was holding a heavy looking wooden staff and was dressed in well-worn leather clothing.

Suddenly D'Annu'Elle thought of the words that master Gh'Er'T had said, explaining how he had he detected other life forms linked through the Rift, perhaps these had been human, for here walking towards him one such human came.

The ranger placed the arrow back into his quiver and drew two short swords from their scabbards by his sides. The T'Iea watched as the man strode purposefully towards them. They thought to warn him of the war drone they had seen but minutes before. But before a word was uttered the drone flew in fast and hovered above the man. The ranger pushed the swords into the ground at his feet and again drew an arrow with his longbow. But the human held up his hand and stopped walking. The ranger knew that if he fired the arrow it would relocate the war drone, but he also risked the relocation of the human male for he was so close to the hovering machine. The decision was made, he fired the arrow anyway, he had witnessed the brutal intent of these machines when they attacked and was powerless to stop them other than relocate them using the special arrows provided by the T'Iea mages on the star ship. There was a risk to the human, but any further delay and the machine would have him anyway. The arrow sped on its flight, but before the arrow hit the machine the human waved his staff in a semi-circular motion through the air. The arc of its passage left something behind in its wake, a shimmering in the air, obscuring the drone. The arrow hit this shimmer in mid-flight. To D'Annu'Elle's surprise the arrow slowed when it hit the shimmering curtain and fell out of the air, the human caught it by the shaft. Another was notched, but again D'Annu'Elle stayed the ranger's aim. "Hold my friend. Something strange is at play here. This human has an understanding of the arcane."

The human resumed his walk forward. The drone remained hovering above him as if nothing had happened. Indeed it seemed to be completely oblivious to the events that had just unfolded.

"T'D'Annu'Elle!" It was the soldier with the broadsword that spoke, he was looking behind them. D'Annu'Elle turned and there behind them a second war drone hung in the air, its gentle humming seemed menacing to their ears. D'Annu'Elle was now concerned and his hand reached down involuntarily to the hilt of his own weapon. The only thing that stayed his hand was that the drone had not withdrawn its weapons from the holster within its belly, the doors remained closed.

A shout came from the human. "HOLD YOUR WEAPONS.' The human held up the hand holding the arrow whilst walking forward. When he was in easy earshot he said, "the drones will not harm you. Unless of course I instruct them to do so." The human now stood leaning upon the heavy staff he held. His brown eyes considered the T'Iea with curiosity. He looked them up and down and stopped to stare at the T'Iea's long ears. "You seem a strange folk indeed. I have not seen the likes of you in these parts before?"

D'Annu'Elle's soldiers looked at him waiting for a command, D'Annu'Elle was thankful that he had learnt the humans language from Petré, that knowledge may help to ease the current situation. So D'Annu'Elle bowed keeping eye contact with the human. "We are strangers to these parts. But we come as friends, not as enemies. We seek to aid not to destroy."

The human raised both eyebrows in an expression of surprise, "a refreshingly novel attitude I might say. You speak our language to?" It was unclear whether his surprise was generated from the peaceful claim made. Or the fact that he was listening to his own language emanating from this stranger.

D'Annu'Elle did not respond by explaining how he had mastered the human language, that information he certainly did not want to tell, for this human may not be so friendly if he knew that D'Annu'Elle had learnt his language from his enemy. The human's expression whether contrived or in true surprise amused D'Annu'Elle and he smiled, saying instead, "well master human, you have your own protection I see." He indicated towards the two war drones that hung unmoving in the air nearby.

The human nodded slowly but asked a further question, "and the column of machines and short men that control them, are they also part of your company?"

"Yes, master human they are the reason we are here in these lands. But be assured the machines of which you speak are not here with violent intent. They come for another reason."

The human regarded them for some time. Then he walked forward and offered the arrow back to the ranger who took it as if it was not real. Then the human turned without a word and started to walk back in the direction in which he had come. After a few steps he stopped and half turning said, "come then master Elf, you seek the Rift, I will accompany you, for I am curious what business you may have here."

D'Annu'Elle strode forward and caught up with the human male. "May I enquire to whom it is we are addressing?"

The human turned to look at D'Annu'Elle, "I am named Viruse. I am Taeklan of my clan. We are known by many as the Watchtower Clan." Then he raised his voice a little louder and added, "you I assume, are Elves from the sky-darkening ship of space?"

D'Annu'Elle raised an eyebrow, that reference could only be extended towards one thing, the interstellar star ship they had travelled to this world upon a thousand years of man ago. The same star ship that he had come from, but was now hidden from view in the planar voids. D'Annu'Elle frowned, it seemed that this human had the advantage over him in the knowledge of this history. "Elves?"

Viruse stopped and turned to face D'Annu'Elle. " There are legends, stories my people tell of a vast ship of the stars and how from it came people from the sky. We have our own names for the people in these stories. Elves we call those like yourself. The story of your first arrival is a popular tale in the lore of my people. But none of us remain who have actually witnessed first-hand the events of the tales."

D'Annu'Elle was well aware of some cultural heritage of storytelling. A way of remembering important events in the history of a people. But a story that quite obviously included the T'Iea? He was shocked.

Viruse closed his eyes and leant upon his staff as if recalling something from memory. "The story tells of how day became night, the sun hidden from view as the great ship of space descended upon the world. A machine so vast it reached from one horizon to the other. At first we feared for our existence, for we thought the day of our doom had arrived. But these people came in peace, although to start with we did not realise this and defended ourselves with all our might. It is told there was a battle, how many were killed I do not know. But peace was made and the people of the stars began to aid us and teach us."

Viruse gazed once more at D'Annu'Elle's ears. "Your physical appearance, especially your long ears, you look akin to those now mythical beings described far back in the history of my people. Most of my people you understand now remember those tales more in fictional stories, in those tales beings such as yourselves we call Elves. There are others, Dwarves and Gnomes we call them. Mostly they are spoken of now in children's fairy tales. They are nearly always depicted as a kind hearted people, helpful for the most part, but sometimes mischievous and always very shy and secluded, showing themselves to only those they wish to. They nearly always have the ability to appear and disappear whenever they wish. He studied D'Annu'Elle's features for a moment before saying, "my people you understand have a habit of turning what they once knew into embellishments and distorted memory, each generation adding its own interpretation you understand, but perhaps fiction has become fact once more.

D'Annu'Elle nodded, the description of the 'Elves' of whom Viruse spoke was certainly similar in principle to the character of his people the T'Iea, he couldn't help wondering if this mythology of which Viruse spoke was something to do with an event in ancient history, a previous meeting perhaps or just coincidence. After all he seemed to hint at another star ship that had visited here once before long ago. "These stories and these Elves of whom you speak, do they predate the coming of the star ship of which you told before, or perhaps they started after the star ship was sighted blotting out the sun?"

Viruse shook his head, "I do not know, dates become blurred over the years, stories are important to remember and are passed down through the generations fastidiously, but less so the time and dates on which the stories occurred. I'm afraid I have no way of knowing. The story of the star ship was handed down to me by my father and to him from his father and so it goes on, but I do not know how many generations have passed since the origin of the tale. The children's stories, the fairy tales, also are handed down but via the female route, again it is impossible to say how old these stories are, or when they first appeared.

D'Annu'Elle nodded, if another star ship had been here before them, there would be no way of telling as communications between the star ships never happened. Each star ship was autonomous, they had become separated by the distances that they travelled, they were alone in the vastness of the outer void.

D'Annu'Elle looked skywards, he wondered why his predecessors had seen it necessary to show the star ship in such a blatant way. He asked the question. "What then did they do? Why did they come, the people from the star ship?"

Viruse shrugged, he turned towards the Rift and lifting his staff pointed towards it. "they said they came to aid us and they did, even after we gave them such a bad reception. They taught us much, those of us that had the inherent skill they taught to mould the energy of the world flowing around everything, how to utilise this power in many forms, for many things. But that was many lifetimes of man ago, before my birth, before the birth of my ancestors. But when the war raged, some of us misused that skill and opened up the Rift. So the story we tell so that each generation may learn and not forget."

D'Annu'Elle was intrigued. "I would like to hear the tale sometime master Viruse." D'Annu'Elle then looked at the two war drones that flew alongside them. A question was on his mind, was this the commander of the drones then? Did this human have power over the drone army? He asked the question.

Viruse looked at one drone and then the other. "The Drones are machines, originally machines designed to destroy. For many generations of our people they came from the west across the great chasm, they would attack us. But through the teachings of your scholars we learnt to turn them against their masters. We – changed them. They now have a better understanding within them. Their new minds contain much more than just a benign intelligence, it contains emotion and reason."

"In deed." D'Annu'Elle frowned, he detected something within the drones, not just circuits and wires and logic and unfeeling response, no he felt intelligence of a different kind, spiritual intelligence, biological thought. "They feel like you, they must have some humanity within them, although I know not what form this takes."

Viruse nodded, long ago we – changed them, we learned how to capture the drones using the energies within the Rift. We studied them and found a way of preserving our dead. Whenever one of us was killed in battle we managed to place some parts of them into the drones. These parts now control the drones, those that have died have a new body."

D'Annu'Elle was shocked, but before he could say anything Viruse smiled and continued. We are very few in number stranger, all human life is precious, we cannot afford to lose any individual if we are to survive."

D'Annu'Elle asked, "but how do they feel about this? Do they know that they had a former life as one of you?"

Viruse shook his head. "We found that if you dug deep enough, the psyche the original character of the individual may be found once more and brought to the fore. Not in every case you understand, for some reason the thought patterns inside the neural remains of some individuals could not be maintained. The mind would decay into madness, I suspect that they could not accept what had happened. But in many cases, the humanity within the machine could be coaxed back out again if enough gentle compassion and love was offered and of course accepted. This was proven easier if those the original person regarded as close to them were present during the process, loved ones or dear friends."

D'Annu'Elle didn't know what to say, at first he felt horror at what they had done, but when he placed himself in their position, perhaps they did what they understood to be right. They tried to preserve their existence.

Viruse smiled. "I can't even begin to understand what they may feel if anything. But these two are free to come and go as they please, I do not control them you understand. They are not under my command. I ask them to undertake things and they decide themselves if they wish to do so." He thought for a while and sighed. "These two I seem to have a closer affinity with, I know nothing of their past, who they once were. Perhaps that is the most horrifying thing about them. But I am not them, I cannot understand what they have experienced, all I can do is offer them a way to exist perhaps, if they wish to help us then we welcome that help. Otherwise they are free to go, if they can handle that freedom. But at least I can give them that choice." Viruse studied D'Annu'Elle's face closely. "I see abhorrence in your eyes stranger. You are right to be shocked by this. But you have not suffered as we have, so many ages of war and destruction; of hatred and a single mindedness to kill have left my people with a legacy far worse in many ways to what you are thinking. I seek to make good, I seek to change what we have become, to teach my people that there is a better way, a better way to live if we seek to return to it. Why then should I exclude the humanity within these machines, they have character, they could be aware once again of the life they once had, are they not also to be given that chance?"

D'Annu'Elle wanted to take encouragement from Viruse's words. What he said about the drones was something that he and the T'Iea could relate to, there was compassion in those words, a respect for life. "Your words Viruse, what you say and your attitudes are somewhat in alignment with my own peoples ethics. We also do not kill and destroy if there is a better way. It is encouraging that there are some of your race that think like this, those who have risen above the trap of consuming revenge and hatred."

"Such hatred of what you speak was the driver behind the original making of these machines. We placed within them an intelligence that thought for itself, not something that relied upon logic circuits and pre-programmed artificial intelligence. They were no longer limited to their programmed stasis, limited to the control mechanisms that their original designers placed into them. No, we managed to give them real thought, rational and the ability to make their own decisions based on emotional state and belief. Thus we taught them compassion and an understanding of right and wrong. But we sent these machines back into the west to spy upon the men of the west and to carry out covert operations against them." Here Viruse became quiet before he continued. "Alas some were captured and the designers in the west realised what had happened so they started to experiment with biological implants themselves. Never did we think that our discovery would be replicated by our enemies and turned against us."

D'Annu'Elle nodded. "That is why they hunt down human kind and steal the biological matter from their captives."

Viruse nodded. "We have done many terrible things in desperation, history is scattered with the mistakes we made. Possibly the worst of those mistakes was our unleashing a terrible power, the power of the Rift. We were desperate. But understand, if your predecessors had not taught us about the energy of the world, we would not have been able to harness the energy in the Rift and exploit it, without this power we would have been destroyed long ago. We needed this raw power for our factories and our machines of war. But alas the Rift was opened in desperation and without any thought of governing it and managing it safely. So the Rift was allowed to expand unabated, it became in turn a threat to our very existence, a threat to the world itself. It will destroy the world in the end."

"I know of this, it is the reason I have come. The T'Iea master Viruse, my people, well as you must know already, we have an affinity to this power of which you speak. We have a natural understanding and control over the arcane power as we would call such things. The Rift is large and has been out of control for many ages, but I believe that we may have an answer, at least to bring it within some control, slow its expansion and therefore perhaps stop any further damage. Once the Rift is tamed, then perhaps we can work together to diminish it in the long term and even perhaps put the entire world to rights in the process."

"That is a big dream Master Elf, one that my people have never hoped or dared to acknowledge. If your offer is sincere, if you can aid us in any way, then my people will be deeply thankful. Come I will show you the Rift, show you our doom." He gestured to them and they moved off in the direction of the great plume of power rising vertically into the air ahead.

D'Annu'Elle had one question he had to ask. "Before we go Master Viruse. You seem quite happy with our meddling with the Rift, I'm not sure I would place so much trust in those I have just met?"

Viruse turned to D'Annu'Elle. "Your people, the Elves from the first star ship to visit. They said that one day you would return and tame the Rift. We have been expecting you Master Elf." His mouth revealed a slight smile as he looked at the puzzled expression on the face of D'Annu'Elle.

## Chapter 27. Viruse's Croft

A few days later D'Annu'Elle and his two T'Iea companions sat within Viruse's croft within the eastern men's village. The croft seemed to be partially communal for there seemed to be a constant stream of people coming and going. Over the last few days the Pnook along with Gh'Er'T and his mages had been examining the Rift. Every day they reported back to D'Annu'Elle and to Viruse. Progress was slow and careful.

Viruse had been telling them more surprising stories from the eastern men's history.

"Once the Rift was opened, we tapped it far beyond controlling it and something we did not foresee happened, we adjusted the laws of evolution. The people from the villages near to the Rift started to suffer a change in their inner being. The effect of the rampant arcane energy spreading freely throughout our lands somehow mixed up all life in the region. The war raged at that time and much life was slaughtered, genetic material covered much of the lands and lay there for long periods rotting and polluting it. Animals fed on the carrion, we hunted and gathered, drank and ate from the land. I suspect we unknowingly ingested much of this material, many fell ill, many died of an unknown sickness. But over generations we became used to it and over many generations our very genetic makeup was changed so that we now had immunity to this illness. Our genetics are now irreversibly changed, mixed in with many other kinds. We now have the ability to freely change from human form into an animal form. It is not the same animal for each of us, this seems to be a random thing. We call this process - shading, for each of us casts a shadow of an animal if you will. I for instance have the shade of a brown bear. It is a fully controllable thing, neither a curse or an advantage, apart from the fact of course that when in shade form then the natural abilities of that particular animal are available to the hosting human."

D'Annu'Elle knew that the arcane could affect the natural evolutionary cycle in many ways, after all look how it had affected his people and other races on the star ship. He responded, "is that why we see no animals in the region?"

Viruse nodded. "We have become the animals and they have become human. But you understand that this mixing only occurred to warm blooded creatures that are native to the area, insect and reptilian life seemed to have remained unaffected for some reason. Animals brought in from beyond the region remain unaffected, at least for now. Other clans view us as outcasts, they blame us for the opening of the Rift even though the identity of the original people to do so remains lost. But even with their deep routed suspicions they bring us food and water and in return we of the Watch Tower Clan monitor and look out for the Rift. For you see some of us have the ability to harness the power that is contained within the Rift. The other clans call us sorcerers and witches, they view the knowledge we have as being evil. Unfortunately some of us have used this knowledge for evil purposes in the past. Used the knowledge in a selfish way, a tool to fulfil personal desires of greed, revenge, hate. The list goes on and on."

D'Annu'Elle made a mental note to talk to the mages about this on his return, to make them aware that certain of Viruses' people may have the knowledge of the arcane and be able to use it. This may be useful in the future. But now his interest was in telling how Viruse was not the first human they had come across. He decided to broach the subject. "We know the men of the west are also targeted by the drones, we have watched this happen, if they originally invented these weapons, they most surely are no longer in control of them."

Viruse nodded slowly. "I have long suspected that whoever controlled the machines lost that control long ago. It is very apparent that the goal of the machines and the controlling factor behind them is to rid the world of all mankind, capture all the biological material and make the world wide population one of intelligent but controlled machines. The genocide continues, it is relentless, we are all hunted and murdered alike. We do not have the capability to overcome such an enemy, my people are few in number and I will not risk their death or worse in an all-out conflict with the machines." Viruse stared straight into D'Annu'Elle's eyes. "You have a vastly superior technology; you have proven this with your vast ship of the stars."

Viruse did not wait for an answer, indeed he seemed not to expect one. He stood and walked to where the stack of fuel for the fire was kept, he lifted a couple of the dark bricks and walking to the fire pit tossed them onto the fire. Then standing straight he sighed. "You remain our only hope, if you do not intervene then my people will eventually perish, all that will remain of humanity will reside within the machines, we would become worse than we are now."

D'Annu'Elle thought for a while, he knew then that he would not allow this to happen. He did not know why the other star ship, the first one, had perhaps shown itself, maybe intending to make first contact. But regardless of this, first contact in the eyes of their laws had been made by his people, even if it were not the people he knew. He knew that blame could not be placed with those who had come before, they were not here to answer to any accusations. Likewise his daughter, P'Arcerial, had broken their codes of practice, he had done his best to pre-empt any hostile accusation. But if anything went wrong and the star ship was placed under threat, she and he, would be liable for all blame and he wouldn't be able to put together a defendable case. "Master Viruse, I wish to do all I can to aid you, but there are others that will possibly need some persuasion for me to do this. I cannot make any decision on my own. I invite you to return with me to the star ship, to aid me in seeking help from those that we need, you can speak for all mankind and put your case forward."

Viruse looked thoughtful, he nodded with a smile, "firstly, like you, I must consult with the other clan elders, if this thing is to happen then they must all agree. There has to be a plan in place, one that will persuade the others to act when the time comes. If we are not united in this then it will spell disaster. If they know that the legend of which I spoke of earlier is seemingly being fulfilled then persuasion will hopefully be easy. Once this has happened I would gladly accept your invitation to accompany you to the star ship."

D'Annu'Elle nodded. He had not told Viruse that quite possibly he may meet with a man from the western continent on the star ship. He was not sure how either of them would take it. But he was sure that Petré would view Viruse's presence on the star ship with some aggression. He wasn't sure if Viruse would feel the same. Perhaps in confirmation of his earlier thoughts it would be better that Petré was not on board when Viruse arrived. He would speak with P'Arcerial when he returned, or send her a message that she should take Petré to the Silo sooner than later.

## Chapter 28. Petré and P'Arcerial Arrive at the Silo

Petré had agreed to Borhran's plan to sneak quietly away with the 'T'Iea girl' as Borhran referred to P'Arcerial, slip quietly away with her to the Silo. P'Arcerial had been simple enough to persuade, she was already sympathetic towards his situation and he was sure that she was becoming emotionally attached to him. He had asked her not to tell her father of their plans, but she had said that was impossible as he would have to sanction any travel beyond the star ship, he also suspected that she was also worried that she had already overstepped the mark on rescuing him and to risk further disappointment on the part of her father was not something she wanted to do. But then something unexpected had happened, he had decided to approach D'Annu'Elle himself and make his point and was surprised to find the T'Iea was not on board the star ship. But P'Arcerial claimed she had a message from her father asking her to allow Petré to go to the Silo. She was her usual excited self when she told him this news. She didn't even demanded a security force be with them, saying instead that she was confident that the Silo was well hidden within the shroud they had placed around it.

With this initial hurdle out of the way, Petré pondered Borhran's plan. Petré and P'Arcerial were to gain access into the Silo then when they found themselves well within the Silo proper, Petré would drop a special device, what Borhran called a proximity stone. Borhran would be able to detect the release of the stone, he would then use its position to establish a portal that could be used to gain access in and out of the Silo as many times as they wished. The only trouble was he was also experiencing strong feelings for P'Arcerial and his dishonesty tugged at his conscience. But he pushed his guilt aside; his people, they needed him, any selfish desires had to be forgotten, put to one side along with his other feelings, at least for now. His initial priority however was to go to the Silo and investigate what may remain of his people, that was paramount. What he found there would determine, one way or another, what his next move would be.

So the day had come, the time Petré had been waiting for. The Keeper Key had opened the portal for them. Borhran was there to see them off, he wished them luck and how he hoped they would have a wonderful time together. He had to hide his true feelings of revulsion at this pathetic slush and the most uncomfortable feeling of all his jealousy. He wiped the sickly smile from his face once both Petré and P'Arcerial had disappeared through the portal.

Petré felt a warm breeze upon his face. He opened his eyes. He looked around him, he gasped in delight. They indeed stood upon a field of green. He recognised the place, it was so similar to the one where he rejoiced in his annual sojourns from his own Silo. Flowering plants he recognised grew across the meadow and the bees buzzed a welcome, it almost felt like home in so many ways. His eyes followed the slope downwards to the shore of the deep blue lake in the centre of the valley. Yes, he was sure this was a cistern. He grew excited, for he knew that below them a Silo stretched underground for many kilometres. He looked up expecting to see the bright sky, the blazing sun. But was shocked to see some kind of oily swirling mass of darkness interspersed with flashes of orange and red. Yet it was still quite bright, light enough to see by and the plants in the meadow didn't seem to have suffered any ill effects. He had read about storms, but not here in the desert. There was not sufficient surface water this far out into the desert to form clouds let alone rain. It had never rained in the deep desert to his knowledge.

P'Arcerial grasped his arm and smiled up into his face. "It is alright, what you see is just the underside of the shroud."

He remembered P'Arcerial had told him the T'Iea mages had placed this shroud above the meadow to hide it from the hunter drone scouts. This must be what he could see, the physical manifestation of the shroud as seen from the underside.

He started to walk forward, He wondered which Silo this could be, wondered if it was close to the one he had once called home. He didn't know for sure how many Silos there were, there was no chance at least from here of knowing which one it may be. But at least this one appeared to have survived, at least so far. But P'Arcerial grasped his arm stopping him from moving. He looked towards her and noticed she had a grave look upon her face. She gazed down at the ground. He followed her gaze, there lying amongst the fronds of grass he saw a bleached white bone. He picked it up and gasped; he held a broken jawbone complete with some of the teeth. He recognised it, for it was of human origin.

P'Arcerial grasped his other hand and encouraged him forward all the while looking into his eyes as if she tried to read his thoughts. "It is one bone Petré, it doesn't mean anything."

He nodded, she was right of course. He pushed down the feeling of panic. They were walking down the slight incline of the meadow towards the blue lake in its centre. Neither spoke, they both were enjoying this spectacle, the human anticipating his return home, the T'Iea admiring the natural beauty and resilience of nature. Petré turned to look at her, he had to smile at the enthusiasm that shone in her eyes. He thought of the advanced technology these people possessed, he was sure that any of the current machines of war would not prove formidable enough a foe for these people. Yet for all that, these people exhibited an almost child-like side to their nature, that same innocence that his race of mankind had lost millennia before, he felt a slight irony, perhaps some jealousy.

Suddenly P'Arcerial stopped. Petré's eyes followed hers. She shivered; he felt his heart skip a beat. There something long and white lay visible through the grass. He walked forward dropping her hand and bent slowly to see another bleached bone lying there, this time a much larger bone. Then if to confirm his earlier thoughts he realised unmistakably it was a human femur. His outstretched hand shot back under its own accord as if it loathed to touch the bone. P'Arcerial was moving about the grassland looking downwards all the time, bending to scrutinise something here and there. She had a look of horror upon her face and tears gilled her eyes. In the end she stopped and looked towards Petré with deep sorrow on her face. Her short reconnoitre had proved that many remains lay scattered about the grasslands, pieces of human skeleton lay everywhere.

P'Arcerial explained that perhaps not so many had died here after all. Petré was wandering around inspecting the remains feeling numb. He did this for some while before he returned to where a P'Arcerial stood watching him. "There are not many here Petré, listen to me the remains number no more than twenty or so individuals at most. The rest of the population may well still be inside the Silo."

Petré didn't acknowledge her remarks to start with but then her words began to sink in, perhaps she was right, there weren't that many bones here, if the whole population of the Silo had been caught here in the open and attacked then he would expect there to be piles of bones littering the whole of the meadow. But why would so few come to the surface? Perhaps it was for a similar reason as his, a need to see what lay above, a need to breath the free air and feel the freedom of the world above? He felt that for so many to do so would only be accomplished if they had permission to go up to the surface as a group, but he didn't really believe this to be the case, all the Silo's ran to a similar set of rules, there was no way that the Silo's commander would allow such a thing, the risks were just too great.

"Perhaps," replied Petré, "but this must have happened before the drones had been ordered to destroy the Silos, before whatever commands the Drones had realised that any human populations survived below, otherwise this one would have been destroyed. No, this must have happened some years ago, what caused their deaths I do not know."

P'Arcerial looked worried as they moved on toward the centre of the valley. If they went into the Silo she was worried what they may find. But she was not going to stop Petré now, that she knew. There was something else she knew, "Petré, all of these remains have their skulls intact. I do not think it was war drones that caused their deaths."

Petré walked about inspecting the skulls, it was true, none exhibited the clinical cutting procedure that the drones employed to remove what they sought. P'Arcerial stood on the brink of the cistern looking down into the deep blue clear waters. The surface of the water was several metres below them; vertical rock walls ran down from the edge on which they stood to the gently rippling surface of the waters below. P'Arcerial looked toward him, he felt her eyes upon him as he reached into a pocket and retrieved the small round disk that he knew was there. He held the Dolan in his palm. Looked down at it as he thought about the rude awakening the people in the Silo were about to get. I must warn you, "when I drain the cistern, many emergency alarms will be set off, the inhabitant of the Silo will know about our intrusion. The defending mechanical soldiers will be deployed, hopefully they will not fire on us." Well the risk was necessary, he had to get into the Silo, be amongst his own kind once again and the cistern was the only way to access it.

He drew back his arm and without any further thought threw the Dolan far out into the lake. It arched up catching the light as it tumbled. They both watched as it fell and after a small splash disappeared beneath the waters. It could just be seen bobbing back and forth as it sank downwards. They lost sight of it after it had sunk several metres. A few minutes later the surface of the water seemed to bubble and boil. Waves splashed against the edge of the rock below them, they stood back. Then the waters started to drop downwards revealing an ever-deepening circular tube in the rock. Petré scanned around the edge when the water had dropped downwards to a point where a rock stair could be seen several metres below them, just around from where they stood. Petré walked forward around the edge of the cistern until he was above the stairs, he searched amongst the fronds of grass that grew out over the edge. He found what he was looking for and clearing away the grass and other plants dug his fingers into the soft earth. He grasped something and pulled. His closed hand revealed a flap, like a small metal cover or hatch. Once this opened he reached inside and depressed a button and pulled upon a small lever. There was a slight grinding noise. P'Arcerial looked over the edge of the cistern to see steps emerging out of the rock wall, a set of steps that would obviously complete the stairway right up to the level of the edge of the cistern. She withdrew the black bow from across her back and toyed with the arrows in the quiver that hung around her waist.

Petré stood quickly and grasped P'Arcerial's arm stopping her from descending. "I think I'd better go first."

P'Arcerial nodded her consent. She was about to protest that she wouldn't get a clear shot with him in front, but she decided not to argue the point, this was his domain after all, he should lead.

Petré stepped out onto the first flight of steps that led down into the cistern. P'Arcerial made to follow, she instinctively stopped on the brink of the stairway and looked around the meadow, just as she would in any instance of entering into an enclosed space. Her eyes caught a movement atop the far wall of the meadow, immediately she dropped into a crouch, the bow in her hand and an arrow notched. She frowned, whoever was looking down them had repeated her moves in the almost same instance. After waiting a few minutes she decided that whoever it was would not show themselves until she had moved out of line of sight, she could go over and investigate, but Petré was now far down the first flight of stairs and beyond earshot. She decided that whoever was following would come after them anyway, there was nothing for it but to follow Petré and be on the lookout. After all within the Silo she could lay a trap if necessary and she preferred to lead them to her rather than she going to find them.

An hour or so later, Petré had to rest once again. It came back to him, the fact that descending into the cistern was just as tiring and painful on his leg muscles as the ascent was. P'Arcerial didn't seem bothered by the physical exertion at all, she just looked up at the stairway high above as if she expected to see something. He was too tired to ask what. He frowned, were these beings so very different from his own race. They must just be genetically much fitter that was all. His comparisons drew darker thoughts into his mind as he stared at P'Arcerial, her hood laid back across her shoulders alloying her hair to tumble down her back. She was stunningly beautiful, that he could not deny. He was alone here with her now, there was nothing or no one to interfere with anything and he felt feelings stir within him, but he realised that it wasn't just the physical attraction that he felt, but something else was stirring in his heart. She was kind and thoughtful, infinitely patient and she cared, mostly about everything, but she also felt a deep compassion for him and his people. It had been a bit of a shock when he suddenly realised and had to admit to himself that he loved her.

She was looking down at him, a gentle smile on her face, her head cocked questioningly to one side. He turned away and blushed, the redness of his face deepened as he realised he was actually blushing. He couldn't think what to do or say, so he stood up and continued down the stairway, determined that he would reach the bottom without further need to rest, or to contemplate further on his feelings for P'Arcerial.

An hour or so later they stood on a wide platform, still wet and quite slippery from the water that once covered it. P'Arcerial had walked to the edge and was looking up again, moving her eyes so they followed the stair way as it wound upwards. She could see nothing and she was sure that they were not followed down here. Soon they would be through the entrance doors into the Silo and once they closed then the cistern would refill. If anyone was trapped in here then all that would happen was they would be swept back up again, as long as they could swim. No, she was sure that there was nothing to worry about now, any threat had gone. When Petré called out to her that she should be careful, she turned and shrugged and then looked downward over the edge of the platform, water still remained below, a lot of water. A flash of silver showed and she smiled at the thought that not only vegetation had learnt to adapt to this environment. She turned and walked back to stand at Petré's side. A wide cavernous opening stood in front of them, Petré ushered P'Arcerial quickly inside, lights flickered on. He retrieved the Dolan from the wall on the outside, from where it sat in a little receptacle and with a grinding noise a large door started to close over the opening. As this happened cascades of water fell past the door outside, the torrent splashed with great force and a deafening noise into the pool below, the cistern was refilling. He re-joined P'Arcerial. She gazed with some concern through the opening they had just stepped through, but the large door was closing, eventually it shut with a clang and they were plunged into silence. Petré turned and listened whilst more lighting started to come on down the length of the tunnel they found themselves in. He was expecting that the draining of the cistern had alerted those that lived inside and a detachment of guardians would have been deployed to find out why the cistern had been drained. Yet as he listened and looked about him down the long tunnel, no guardians could be seen or heard. They both started to walk along the massive tunnel that lay before them. Petré found himself becoming increasingly concerned.

The tunnel went on for some two thousand metres ending in a vast open area, circular in shape and perhaps a good four or five hundred metres across. On one far wall a metal staircase ascended, it could be clearly seen hugging the wall of the chamber and disappearing into the gloom above.

"That was certainly a large front door and big entrance hall!" P'Arcerial smiled broadly.

Petré shook his head and walked across to the spiralling staircase. He looked up into the gloom but did not see anything so he started to ascend.

P'Arcerial couldn't help thinking how ridiculous to have descended so far down into the earth only to find that they had to climb back up again. But then she supposed the Silo would be easier to defend if your opposing force had to climb back up several hundred steps in single file and all that after they had expended so much energy climbing down. But then it occurred to her that if the large door at the end of the hall was breached then a few million litres of water would flow into this area, so of course this large opening and tunnel with a stair going up the other end was a safety measure against flooding. In any event whoever may have been following them would not be doing so now, she hoped it was no one she would regret loosing, she couldn't help but think it may have been her father, or someone he had sent to ensure her safety.

Finally, after about an hour of climbing they came across a large landing that curved right around the wall of the vast open area they had just climbed. Once again automatic lighting set into the ceiling flickered on as they walked across the flat surface of the landing. P'Arcerial noticed at regular intervals large access doors stood closed.

"What lies beyond these doors?" P'Arcerial asked as they walked around the landing.

Petré didn't want to answer, he was not proud of what lay beyond those doors. He had spent enough time with the T'Iea and learnt enough of their morality to know that they would not approve of what was there. He shrugged and said, "beyond lies tunnels that lead to machines, automaton guardian soldiers designed for the defence of this facility. I was expecting them to come and meet us, yet strangely none have been deployed."

P'Arcerial spoke, "can we see? I am sure that these machines would be most interesting?"

Petré was thankful that he could respond to her question in truth. "Alas, my Dolan does not permit entry beyond here into the barracks; I do not have the security clearance."

"Then where do we go from here?" Asked P'Arcerial. "It seems to me that all the exits from here are into these barracks as you call them?"

"There is one other door I can access, it lies further round." He gestured for them to walk further around the landing. "Come."

## Chapter 29. Exploration of the Silo

Petré took P'Arcerial around the circular landing until they faced the only section that did not appear to have a large door set into it. He placed his Dolan into a small receptacle on the wall that would have been difficult to detect to anyone that did not expect to find it there. There sounded a faint click and a small section of the wall moved inwards slightly revealing a hidden personnel door. A breeze of moving air escaped the space beyond, P'Arcerial's heightened senses told her that the air smelt of age, of musty staleness. She hesitated, but Petré stepped inside and she followed. Automated lights came on as before and they found themselves standing at one end of yet another long corridor.

But something was worrying Petré. He had still expected their entrance to be noticed. He had purposely not avoided the security system of the Silo, he wanted the people who lived here to know of their arrival, under normal circumstances they would have been challenged way before now and most probably taken into custody. He knew that at the end of this corridor lay the area within the facility where the maintenance technicians were housed, similar to his own home within the Silo where he once lived. A lump came to his throat as he thought about his father and their home, possibly far away from here. But he knew the slim chances of its surviving the attack and the chances of anyone still being alive were as good as zero. But here was a working Silo, he had come here to find his people, if for some reason the Silo was empty, abandoned then there would be no one to save. What would P'Arcerial do then if she knew that this Silo was no longer needed. Perhaps they would seek to destroy it, rather than risk allowing the installation to fall into the wrong hands, perhaps they would remove the camouflaging shroud and allow the machines of war to destroy it? But he would not allow that to happen, he needed what lay within this Silo, needed it for what? As yet he didn't know, but it was all he had to bargain with, all his people had for their survival. Then perhaps through Borhran's promises of aid, their long awaited revenge.

They walked through another air lock at the end of the passage and out into a large open area. P'Arcerial was not expecting this, for what met her eyes where obvious buildings designed for habitation and other uses, she saw what looked like a medium sized town. They walked along a street, buildings lay to either side. But Petré was agitated. She guessed that these streets should be filled with people, Petré's people, those he described as the facilities maintenance technicians and their families. Yet the place was obviously empty and had been for some time.

Something was dawning on Petré, the people had left the Silo, abandoned it, but why? Why would the inhabitants of this Silo leave, abandon the place of safety, and where did they go?

A sudden noise to their left had the well-practiced T'Iea draw her bow, notch an arrow and take a defensive stance all in one fluid movement. Petré turned also and dropped low, he looked at P'Arcerial and was surprised to see that instead of one of those black tipped arrows, P'Arcerial had what looked like a normal pointed iron-head arrow levelled at the source of the sound. Her eyes shone with an inner flame and her body emanated a graceful energy. Petré held his breath, what if some survivor from the Silo's inhabitants was about to appear, he hoped that P'Arcerial was not too trigger happy. But he breathed out as he realised what had made the noise. He released his breath and stood as a movement from a side street heralded the arrival of a strange looking machine, it exited out from between two of the buildings and turned to travel down the street they were on.

To P'Arcerial the machine looked quite grotesque, like some overgrown spider; it seemed to search as it went, for it kept stopping to inspect the ground, or an entrance to a shop, it moved from one side of the street to the other and back again as it progressed towards them. Once an opening in its underside revealed a device that looked exactly like a large brush and a flat oversized metal pan, it proceeded to sweep something into the pan with the brush and after depositing the contents of the pan into some kind of hopper in its back, it then retracted the tools back inside its body.

P'Arcerial remained in her defensive stance, this compelled Petré to say, "do not fear, the machine is supposed to be here, it will not harm us, it is a cleaner drone, it is quite harmless unless you happen to be a speck of dirt or some other kind of trash."

P'Arcerial nodded at Petré and allowed the tension on her bow to release slowly, she stowed the unused arrow back into the quiver at her side. She still eyed the machine with some suspicion, some form of writing was painted in fading and chipped paint along the side of the machine, she read:

'Trash Collection-ID675B56I-TechTown'.

As she did so she asked the question which she had been wanting to make for some time, "It seems then there are no inhabitants here, only machines inhabit this place now?"

Petré was dreading that realisation, somehow he was putting off the obvious, but P'Arcerial had spoken the dread words and he had to agree. He hung his head. "The war drones are thorough in their search; none would have survived the attack if they were on the surface. It would not be possible for the drones to enter so far into the Silo, not down here. Yet they did not destroy the Silo either."

P'Arcerial had crossed the street and was looking into a shop window. "There are no human remains either, nothing to suggest that this Silo had been attacked. They have all left, abandoned this place. Maybe in a hurry to." She pointed through the glass window of a shop.

Petré went to stand by her. The inside of the shop was in complete disarray; all manner of things lay scattered upon the floor where they had fallen or been discarded.

Petré tried the door but it wouldn't move more than a few centimetres, something heavy had fallen on the inside stopping the door from opening. A loud crash startled Petré. He turned to see what had happened, P'Arcerial had used the hilt of one of her short swords to smash the shop window. Shards of glass crashed to the floor. He felt a little angry at the wanton destruction, but then he supposed that a little more mess didn't really matter. She lithely hopped up onto the window ledge and jumped down to the floor inside the shop. Moving around to the inside of the door she quickly pushed upon a set of metal shelves that had fallen over stopping the door from opening. She then opened the door so Petré could enter. Inside the place looked although it had been ransacked. P'Arcerial searched around, discarding things she picked up and looking beneath, but Petré went straight through the shop and climbed the stairs in the back room, he knew these should lead to where the human inhabitants who ran the shop would have lived. He stepped onto the landing and began to search the rooms to each side of a corridor, but nowhere could he find any signs of life or the presence of his people. He somehow expected to find bodies or skeletons but there were none.

"Why would they leave? Would they have gone to another Silo? Would they have left to live somewhere else? Why would they leave such a mess?" P'Arcerial asked as she came to stand beside him and then enter one room where she proceeded to inspect the scattered debris that lay all about, smashed furniture, drawers emptied out onto the floor, a lot of broken glass. It seemed that everything breakable had been sought out and - broken.

Petré was trying to think the same thing. "It may not have been the inhabitants that caused the mess. If they had abandoned the Silo, there are other things in here that may have done such damage if they had become bold enough to enter here. But that would only have happened if the human population had deserted this place for some time."

P'Arcerial asked what he meant by what he had said, who he perhaps referred to as these 'other things', but Petré refused to answer her questions, saying that they were in no danger as whatever, or whoever he was referring to would not attempt to approach them at least not if they suspected that they carried weapons.

They stepped back outside and continued to look around, entering a few other shops. The cleaner drone busied itself clearing up any mess they had made, including the broken glass. "Well that explains why there is no mess outside of the shops," said P'Arcerial. Then she added, "if we are to find anyone we must obviously look elsewhere?"

Petré looked dejected, he felt although this whole trip had been for nothing. What he sought was not here after all, it had been a waste of time. The thought of finding others of his kind within the Silo had taken up all his thought, it was the real reason he had come here. Not even Borhran's promises meant anything any longer. He said with a faltering voice, "I cannot go anywhere else within the facility, I have never been anywhere else. My Dolan does not grant the necessary access capability."

"But why?" Asked P'Arcerial.

Petré explained why the people who lived in this small town could not mix with any of the other populace within the Silo. The fact that they were deemed unclean and a risk to health because of the very task they did.

"No wonder you sort the outside world Petré, to live down here in this place, well it would have driven me mad." P'Arcerial had walked to his side and grasped one of his hands. "So there is no way of getting from here to the rest of the Silo?" P'Arcerial was frowning.

Petré's was looking out through a window at the street below, "I, I, well I didn't intend we go further into the Silo, I mean my people the people who lived in this town would have welcomed us, that was all I really intended, I did not think it necessary to go any further. But your right, if we are to find anyone then we must investigate into the Silo." Then his eyes caught sight of the cleaner drone making its way down one of the side streets. Suddenly an idea was dawning on him, "there may be one way, follow me." He ran downstairs and returned to the street and jogged off after the cleaner drone. As he ran he explained that all the cleaner drones would need to recharge their power sources and empty their hoppers of trash every now and again. This was done in a central place deep within the main part of the facility near to where the main power plants were situated. He added that although he did not have access out of the technician's town, the cleaner drone did. If they followed the machine, it would eventually pass through the security doors and leave this area on its way deeper into the other restricted areas of the Silo.

## Chapter 30. Escape from Technician Town

They took it in turns to follow the machine as it undertook the regular routine of wandering around Technician Town cleaning and tidying anything that seemed out of place as it went. Petré explained that these machines were necessary because of the dirt and dust that tended to accumulate in this area, due to the necessity of the technicians needing to regularly go into areas of the facility that did not maintain a clean sterile environment. The rest of the Silo's inhabitants were paranoid about keeping any contamination from leaking into their allotted areas of the facility. It seemed the rest of the inhabitants of the silo lived in a sterile environment through fear of biological weapons attack and hundreds of years of living this way had rendered their immune systems very weak, if not non-existent. He explained once again that there was an airlock that the cleaner machines could pass through to gain access to other parts of the facility, but none of the people that lived here were allowed to go through the airlock for fear of biological contamination.

P'Arcerial was deep in thought. "So what would happen then if we were to follow the machine into the air lock?"

Petré shrugged, "the airlock contains a mechanism that cleans the machines before they are allowed further out into the facility. The sterilising chemicals used are poisonous to life, all life. Exposure to such substances would certainly kill me and probably you to."

"Then the success of your idea is a bit of a disputable point Petré, is it not?"

Petré had been thinking the same silently to himself but he was sure he had come up with an answer. Although the actual execution of his plan still had some gaping holes in it. He tried to explain. "As you have seen, the cleaner drones have a number of large hoppers inside for stowing away refuse which they take with them for destruction deep within the facility. If we could somehow replace the refuse with us, then the machine presumably would take us with it. There are some great risks though. The hopper is hermetically sealed, I am certain that the cleaning chemicals will not penetrate the inside of the cleaner drone because of their corrosive effects and the risk to the less protected components of the machine. This would be an advantage in that the poisonous cleaning process will not harm anyone travelling within, but I'm not sure how long we would survive within the hoppers, the available oxygen within the hopper will deplete with our breathing, if it failed altogether before we reach our destination, then the whole thing would be pointless anyway. But the first problem to overcome is how to get us inside in the first place. Then, of course, if we made the trip successfully and did survive inside the machine, I am not sure what would happen once the machine arrives at its destination. We may not get the opportunity to escape the hopper before the trash is discarded into whatever destruction process may be used." They talked about this for some time before eventually coming to an agreement that it would be a worthwhile thing to try and see if Petré's ideas were plausible. So they continued to keep a close eye on the cleaner machine as it made its rounds of the town.

Eventually the cleaning machine began to follow an unusual path, one that neither P'Arcerial or Petré had seen it travel before. Petré was on duty following the machine, when he noticed this change in the machines usual behaviour, he quickly alerted P'Arcerial by shouting across the area, she came running and they both continued to follow behind the machine as it travelled this unusual route through the town. Eventually the drone entered a tunnel at the end of one side street and as the automated lights came on they could see a massive steel door at the end of the tunnel, an obvious exit from Technician Town into whatever lay beyond. It became obvious now was the time to put their plan to the test. P'Arcerial jumped onto the knee joint of one of the machines legs as it bent to move forward, she then jumped nimbly onto its thigh and then jumped once more, eventually she crouched on the machines back. The machine did not seem to notice this intrusion upon its person. She unravelled the rope she carried as part of the standard kit of the T'Iea soldiery and quickly threw it down to ground level, then she tied her end of the rope securely around an eyelet secured to the back of the machine, presumably there to lift the machine by crane if necessary. Petré picked up the rope and began to run around the machine passing coils of rope around each of the knee joints of the machine. Once this was done he then applied pressure, pulling upon the rope with all his might. Petré and P'Arcerial who had now re-joined him on ground level, both pulled with all their might upon the rope. The machines natural walking movements drew adjacent pairs of its knees near to each other, progressively they restricted the movement of the joints of all eight legs tying them closer and closer together. At times one or other of them fell as they were dragged forward, or they were struck by a moving leg, but it only took a few minutes before the machine was slowly but surely immobilised, unable to continue upon its journey, it tottered on its restricted legs like a ballerina standing on one point. They expected some resistance from the machine but it did not seem to mind being tied up in this way. It just stood there as if it waited to be untied and set free once again.

Satisfied no retribution was going to befall them for their actions, the two started to explore the second stage of their plan. After climbing up one leg, they started to probe around the areas on the machines back where they knew the hopper doors opened to allow the machine to place any refuse it collected inside. However the seals were so tight it was almost impossible to locate the doors, only by close inspection could a fine line be seen between the edges of the doors and the machines body, but nothing they had was thin enough and strong enough to be inserted in the tiny gap let alone lever the door open. An hour later and they were no nearer solving the problem of getting access inside the machine. Petré seemed agitated, frustrated at the inability for them to work out the problem, he cried out in anger and kicked the machine. P'Arcerial tried to calm him, but he shrugged her off and wondered over to a wall and leaning his back against it slowly sunk down until he squatted upon the floor a black look upon his face.

Then P'Arcerial had an idea, she jogged back in the direction they had come following the machine. Petré watched her go a frown upon his features. She returned some minutes later carrying what Petré recognised as some of the smashed junk from inside one of the shops. She cast of rubbish down with a clatter in front of the machine. The machine immediately took note and its legs tried to move but the rope holding it fast would not be broken. Then as if some kind of reflex action took over, the machines underside doors opened and the brush and shovel immerged, even though the machines immobilised state would not allow it to approach the pile of rubbish to clean it up. Petré gave a yelp as the doors of the hopper on the machines back also opened, presumably ready to receive whatever the machine cleared up using the brush and shovel.

Petré stood quickly and standing ran back to the machine, they climbed once again onto the back of the machine. P'Arcerial then leaned down looking inside the hopper, "there is room in here for one maybe two people at a push, we will not have a comfortable ride that's for sure. The hopper held many things, including a layer of filthy looking dust. P'Arcerial released the end of the rope tied around the neck of the cleaner drone. With the tension released the drone realised that at last it was free to move once again. Unable to keep her balance on the machines swaying back P'Arcerial fell head first into the machines hopper. Petré leaned inside extending his hand to help her out. The rope then came fully undone and she pulled the coils into the hopper with her. Within seconds the machine was upon its legs once more and making its way towards the pile of rubbish P'Arcerial had flung upon the ground. Petré, decided this was his chance and gave up his efforts in rescuing P'Arcerial, he jumped down into the hopper to join her, another lurch flung them together, this was quickly followed by the rubbish that had been upon the floor but moments earlier cascading down through the opening above them, the sudden bombardment making them raise their hands above their heads in defence. Luckily P'Arcerial had the forethought to choose rubbish that was light and with no sharp edges. The cascade of debris stopped and suddenly they were plunged into darkness as the doors of the hopper closed and all was silent. Petré tried pushing on the closed door, tried hammering on the inside with his fists but the door would not open. They were again flung into a sitting position as the machine started to walk forwards.

"Well that's that then, we are doomed to find out whether your theory will work or not Petré." She smiled into the complete darkness that surrounded her. She took out the small light globe that she kept with her and allowed it to emit a gentle glow. She held it up first making sure Petré was alright and then looking around the inside of the hopper. P'Arcerial and Petré did their best to stop themselves from being thrown around too much. Although the hopper was full of detritus, at least none of the items were that heavy. The main discomfort came from the fine powdery dust that if disturbed floated about in the air making it very irritating to breath.

Eventually the machine headed towards the large steel door set into the end of the tunnel. The door was substantial and designed to be fully sealed when closed. As the machine approached there was a clang and the door parted horizontally, the top portion rising into the ceiling and the bottom down into the floor. When the door was fully opened the machine passed beyond.

Inside, both P'Arcerial and Petré tensed, suddenly all motion had stopped, the machine had come to a standstill. There was a dull thud from outside.

"I think we have arrived in the decontamination chamber," said Petré in a whisper whilst he looked around him as if trying to substantiate his suspicions by looking through the body of the machine. The next they heard was a hissing noise, it sounded like rain falling on the outside. "Yes we are being sprayed with sterilising chemicals, we are in the decontamination chamber for sure."

P'Arcerial suggested they had better settle down for a reasonably long journey, to lie still and conserve oxygen. Also she pointed out that with less movement the dust would hopefully settle and make the air more breathable.

P'Arcerial closed her eyes and went into a semi-conscious state of meditation. Petré gathered her in his arms and lent her head against his shoulder to make her more comfortable. He marvelled as her breathing slowed and her heart rate dropped, but her body temperature remained normal so he wasn't unduly worried. He wished he had the same skill so he could help conserve what oxygen remained within the chamber. He did not know how long it would be until the machine arrived at its destination, he had never made the journey into the main areas of the Silo before. He mused that perhaps when it did arrive at its destination and dumped the rubbish it held, then they too would perhaps be just rubbish, dead and good for nothing. He tried to chase these thoughts from his mind, instead think about escape from the hopper when the time came. He assumed that the rubbish would probably be destroyed somehow. So he thought, he had better remain awake, for if they were to survive then someone would have to raise the alarm when the machines doors opened, he suspected they would only have perhaps seconds to escape when the machines final destination was reached.

If they could see outside, they would have witnessed their leaving the decontamination chamber through another doorway and entering a lengthy tunnel. Many tall, bulky figures, soldiers in bright armour stood in little alcoves either side in the darkness. Their armour glinted in the bright lights illuminating the chamber from the front of the cleaner drone. Some of these soldiers, their slit-eyes glowing, turned their heads to watch as the machine walked past whilst they stood to attention in their personal alcoves. Others seemed to be sleeping, their eyes dulled, or perhaps they decided that this was nothing out of the ordinary and not worth their attention.

At the other end of the tunnel the cleaner drone stood silently in front of another set of identical horizontal doors and once these had fully opened, the machine walked out onto the top of a long steeply sloping ramp. The machine stopped momentarily as if eyeing the vista before it. A much larger city, a place that dwarfed Technician Town lay below. Many buildings, all of utilitarian looking design, stood in neat blocks, identical straight roads running between. The machine walked on. At the bottom of the slope two immense statues rested upon one knee the heads bowed and their gauntleted hands resting atop the pommel of a massive war hammer. The machine walked between them and out into the streets of the city. If P'Arcerial and Petré had been able to see, perhaps they would have marvelled at this underground city of the humans. Perhaps even more they would have marvelled at its emptiness, for not a single soul walked the streets, nothing moved in the alleyways no one looked out through the windows to watch them pass. It was a place deserted of all life, only the machine in which they travelled still occupied the city of its former masters.

## Chapter 31. Viruse Aboard

Viruse looked around him, in his wildest imaginations nothing had prepared him for the wonders of the place in which he found himself. He was thankful, his meeting with the other clan elders had gone well. It was true, a few had doubted him, they had shown resistance to his suggestions. But the majority were behind him, they believed that the only way to ensure a future for generations to come was to rely on these people from the voids. They all knew the stories, although some doubted, something deep in their psyche told them that the stories however strange were actually true. But the stories of the vastness of the star ship as told in the tales of old seemed to diminish into understatement now that he was actually on-board. Even though the boundaries of the city in which he now stood made it seem measurable, it was deceptive, for he knew that the vast workings of the star ship must be all around them, extending for vast distances beyond the city itself. He asked D'Annu'Elle to take him to the city limits, he wanted to see for himself what lay beyond if it were possible. D'Annu'Elle led him along streets and paths to where at last, down the end of a long plaza, lay a break in the buildings. When they reached the end, there was just nothingness, a dark foreboding wall of nothing. But even this was a deception for when Viruse reached out to touch the blackness his hand came up against an invisible yet solid barrier. He felt down and along the barrier, it felt smooth, like glass. He lent forward and breathed upon the surface of the barrier expecting it to cloud with the condensation of his breath as would a glass surface, but to his surprise nothing appeared. His fingertips lingered on the spot, but no dampness could be seen of felt, he tapped on the surface but no sound could be heard not even the quietest of dull knocks. He turned to D'Annu'Elle a questioning look upon his features.

"There is a barrier, but not a physical one. It is comprised of a protective field of energy, it is derived from arcane power in a form that will constrain the great forces that lay beyond. A physical barrier would not suffice, what lays beyond would not be constrained by mere glass or metal." He nodded towards the blackness on the other side. "Beyond is the machinery of the star ship, I do not know what this machinery consists of, you would need to ask the Pnook engineers if you wanted a detailed explanation, for they are the designers and have such knowledge. Or perhaps if you wanted a more understandable description then question the Ognod technicians, for they are the only ones who enter beyond, the only ones to have the physical strength and natural biological resilience to entre within that place. But even they can only risk staying beyond this barrier for short periods of time lest they suffer ill effects." D'Annu'Elle looked thoughtful as he stared into the darkness. "An immeasurably powerful source of energy is harnessed beyond, so powerful it takes great engines of unimaginable size and strength to harness it and keep it subdued. If set free the source of that energy would devour the star ship in seconds and then proceed to devour all matter around it, it would even devour light. That is the main reason the star ship is so large, it has to be to house those powerful sources of energy."

Suddenly in the darkness beyond the barrier a flash similar to tendrils of lightning caught Viruse's attention in the corner of his eye, blue forks or power creased across what seemed a vast space but by the time he looked to where it may have been it had gone, he stared out into the blackness he found himself holding his breath. He was rewarded, several streaks of blue lightning flashed across a space beyond the barrier but no sound of thunder was heard, but he did see what looked like great balls of some material at either end of each strike. In the brief flashes of light, other things could be seen, large unimaginable things, things so vast it made him back away from the barrier. These things seemed to hang in the blackness of the vast space. He did not know what he had seen, the flashes of light were too brief for his eyes to focus on much but he knew that the void beyond was unbelievably enormous. What really took his breath away was that somehow he sensed the vastness was actually larger than the physical boundaries of the hull of the star ship. His understanding of science felt like a child's understanding, the technology housed here in this craft of super-science was as far removed from his understanding as a new born baby was from understanding the world into which it found itself. He felt insignificant, a mere speck of dust in the finality of things. He turned away from the barrier and walked back down the street they had come, he felt unnerved by the whole thing. This technology, whoever it was master minded by, was beyond anything he had ever experienced, it would take his people millennia to even begin to understand the first principles of it, let alone begin to create something like it.

It was D'Annu'Elle who spoke. He shouted after the receding figure of Viruse. "The arcane master Viruse, it is everywhere. To understand it you need to feel it, see it, not through your eyes but in here," D'Annu'Elle tapped a finger on the side of his temple. "The star ship contains much arcane energy, far more in fact than all the worlds that form your solar system, far more in fact than the sun that is at its centre. You understand if that much energy were released beyond the boundaries of this star ship it would have catastrophic results. Everything here in this part of the galaxy would feel its effect, planetary orbits would be changed, the effect on your sun would be so great that the attraction exerted from the star ship would unbalance the energies within the suns constant atomic reactions, the explosive pressure pushing outwards deep within the suns core would overcome the gravitational pull of the suns own mass, normally these balance the suns forces and keep it together, but subjected to the released power from the star ship your sun would be torn apart, it would explode with irreversible results."

Viruse stopped walking, he understood even though he did not grasp the science or the technological wonders that it allowed, he also suddenly understood that his people were completely reliant on these people here aboard the star ship, if they had the technology to control such limitless power, then surely they had the technology to put his world to rights. He turned and made a comment along these lines to D'Annu'Elle.

D'Annu'Elle stood by Viruse's side, he took in a deep breath and spoke. "The Rift is a flow of arcane energy that is out of control, similar to the description of the released energy if the star ship should befall a disaster, but obviously it is on a much smaller scale. Never the less it will affect the fine line that keeps everything within the tolerances needed to sustain the natural balance of your solar system. At some point the balancing forces that keep your world in its position within in the voids, keep it in its appointed orbit around your sun, will be exceeded and then disaster will befall. I suspect that already you have experienced changes in climate and seismic activity on your world, the effect of the Rift is to slowly adjust your worlds orbital path around the sun, if these changes become large enough then your world will deviate from its historic and natural orbit altogether, this will undoubtedly have an undue effect on the adjacent worlds and that will spell disaster master Viruse. I think you have the knowledge to understand what will befall." D'Annu'Elle scanned Viruses' face before continuing. "You are right though, I believe that we have the technology to slow these effects and perhaps even reverse them, I do not believe that your world and the ill that befalls it is beyond reversal, at least not yet. But any intervention you understand will be a slow process, it will take many thousands of years to have a full effect. To do it too quickly would undoubtedly cause in an equally catastrophic result."

Viruse did indeed understand what D'Annu'Elle spoke of, he came to a decision quickly. "I would have you try D'Annu'Elle with your technology. The legacy of what we started must be stopped, reversed if possible. All the world will eventually fall to this thing and beyond." He took in a deep breath and asked, "but what is it exactly you are proposing? How can you use your knowledge to aid us?"

D'Annu'Elle gestured with his arm, "Come. Let us walk." He led Viruse back down the boulevard they had come along away from the force wall. Clasping his hands behind him he began to speak. "As you know we have skills, knowledge of the arcane, we are versed in the science of such energy and the forces it commands. The power of which I speak is similar in a way to the Rift, through careful planning I am sure the Rift can be tamed and perhaps utilised in a much more controllable state.

We do something similar on this star ship, the source of the arcane energy is different, much more condensed, but I am sure the fundamentals are the same. I am no expert on the sources of such energy exactly, my peoples expertise is around adapting the flows of arcane energy made available, we are able to tap into it, concentrate it and change it into different types of energy, elemental - heat/cold/light and various motive forms – expulsion/attraction/connection and the like. You have some knowledge of this yourself I think."

Viruse thought for a while, "but if you were to act in such a way you would need to have personnel present all the time to ensure such control is maintained. How could you do this, I am assuming that the man power necessary would be quite considerable. Forgive me D'Annu'Elle but there is great risk in failure, however expert your people may be they are still people, prone to mistakes."

D'Annu'Elle nodded. "Yes, you are right. Ultimately something more permanent and automated would need to be employed. But others in this star ship may have the answers. I must speak with them and see what can be done."

Viruse nodded slowly. He realised to press for further details would be pointless, his limited understanding would not allow him to understand much more than what D'Annu'Elle had already told him and he also felt that the knowledge possessed by D'Annu'Elle and his Elven people was as much as he had alluded to, at D'Annu'Elle's own admittance, others it seemed had further knowledge than they. All he could do was watch and wait, do what he thought best for his people as situations arose. But he knew much of it was going to be out of his control, he was totally reliant on D'Annu'Elle and whatever plans these people made.

## Chapter 32. To Subdue The Rift

D'Annu'Elle looked up at the appalling flow of raw arcane energy, it spewed forth as would a volcano spew forth choking dust and destructive missiles of rock and stone. Normally arcane energy was invisible to the naked eye, but this flow was so dense it actually distorted the atmosphere around it making that distortion visible for kilometres around. D'Annu'Elle was amazed, he was sure that the only thing that kept it from destroying the world within a very short period of time, perhaps less than a year, was its haphazard nature; it did not flow in the same direction rather spread itself outwards in a confused and chaotic mass. D'Annu'Elle could feel it, the various arcane influences played upon each other continually, he could feel the effects crawling across his skin. Never had he experienced such a phenomenon before.

The Rift was spewing forth energy from an unnatural latitude as a result, the worlds axis was slowly shifting. The natural flow of the arcane should be through each of the worlds poles. The arcane should flow like a river straight and true through the worlds axis, north and south. The Rift was like a breach in the river bank, where the weight of the escaping water washed more and more of the bank away, eventually changing the course of the river altogether.

At the moment the changes remained quite small, but they would rapidly increase and very soon. Slowly the tilt was being affected as the gravitational characteristics of the planet were slowly being changed. P'Arcerial was right. If the machines of war didn't eradicate the human race from the planet, then within a dozen generations they would all perish anyway, victim to their own ignorance. The world would eventually tilt so far that the environment would change dramatically and all life as they knew it would not be able to survive the extreme conditions that would prevail. The natural evolutionary adaptations would not be able to keep up. From what his mages had now told him, he doubted that even they with their knowledge could stop it. But there was still a chance, a slim one but there none the less, if the changes were slowed now, then the humans may have the time to adapt, given the opportunity to evolve in ways that kept in tune with the changes. The T'Iea and the other elder races had survived on their home worlds because they had adapted in just such ways. He smiled as he thought of the Maker's wonderful ingenuity. The ability to evolve and adapt his original designs into numerous subtle but distinct differences. He sighed and drew himself up. D'Annu'Elle's most experienced mage, Master Gh'Er'T had come to stand by his side.

Gh'Er'T followed D'Annu'Elle's gaze down into the broiling seething mass that was the Rift. So much arcane energy. It appeared like an oily churning mass, a writhing almost living thing, like lamp oil poured onto water, floating upon the surface reflecting a myriad of sickly colours. The energy here was virtually limitless, he could feel that, but also he knew that the Entity resided somewhere within, an intelligence maintained by the arcane power in the Rift. This was something new, something that he and possibly the T'Iea as a whole had never come across before. A sentient being wholly sustained by arcane energy. The entity had promised much, Gh'Er'T felt changed himself, somehow enlightened. Gh'Er'T could feel the silent presence of the Entity now as he gently probed the Rift. He felt the encouragement, the decisiveness the confidence. He cut the probe and glanced at D'Annu'Elle without moving his head, how he would be tempted to tap into the energy flow, allow it to flow around him, through him, within him. D'Annu'Elle would never allow it, he would say it was too dangerous. But how would it feel to have that much energy at your command? All that power to do with as you will, you could do anything, he could do anything. The Entity had told him that with such energy he could stop this war, force the machines to stop fighting, destroy them even. He would be all-powerful, he could use the energy to destroy the machines, or to control them. He could bring about peace, he would be treated like a saviour and if the humans continued the war? Well, he could force the humans to live in peace. He was suddenly shocked at his thoughts, he had never thought like that before, yet it was true, what if some sacrifices had to be made to allow survival of a race, now that was a T'Iea thought. He felt encouraged and looked at the T'Iea by his side. He spoke hoping that his commander would listen. "There is enough energy within T'D'Annu'Elle to master the machines, to end this war."

D'Annu'Elle did not reply he just remained looking up into the hazy sky above the Rift.

Gh'Er'T turned fully and faced D'Annu'Elle. "The T'Iea could control the energy, well at least enough for what would be needed." Still no response. He moved around so that he stood in front of his commander. "T'D'Annu'Elle, listen to me. We could use the energy, rid the world of the machines, our skill in controlling the arcane would make us unbeatable. The humans would bow down to us, they would do anything we asked. We could repair the world, make the humans see reason. They would be thankful."

D'Annu'Elle slowly drew his gaze his gaze towards Gh'Er'T, his face was grim. What was the mage suggesting? What he suggested was not what D'Annu'Elle would expect, he suggested a dangerous path, a path that may lead to war of a different kind. He sighed. "No, master Gh'Er'T, I agree the energy must be tamed, and what you say makes sense. But I will not agree to using this energy to force any changes upon the race of men, or to use it in an act of aggression against the machines or the humans. We are here to aid, to tame it, create a stable environment once again, Then these humans are free to make choices for themselves, they must decide how to act, it is their world after all. We must encourage them to return to the right path, not force them. They must not become reliant on us, we must only offer reasoning and teaching, only through careful guidance, allowing them to make their own decisions, that is the path to their recovery.

Gh'Er'T frowned. He felt frustration at D'Annu'Elle's words, how could he think like this, it was illogical. He had the knowledge and the superior capability, they were standing in front of the source of more than enough arcane energy, it would be an easy thing to do, a simple act and it would fix everything and quickly to. He sighed, if they were to follow the way of the D'Annu'Elle they would be here forever, stuck on this forsaken world. It would take several millennia to fix the many problems that the humans had caused. The humans couldn't be trusted to fix the issues themselves, if they forced them to think correctly, make them turn away from old habits and mistakes, that would be a far better solution. Gh'Er'T turned from D'Annu'Elle and smiled, something was formulating in his mind. If D'Annu'Elle wouldn't sanction the task, then perhaps he would. Gh'Er'T smiled inwardly, his thoughts were starting to formulise, he needed help and the Entity would give that aid if he made it an ally. Then, as the opportunities arose, he would influence others, introduce them to the Entity, the Entity would make them see reason, make them understand. But his first task was to safeguard the Entity. The Entity was right, key to this control was the Entity's unique position within the Rift, together they could harness so much power, the very thought felt intoxicating.

The Entity needed a way back into the world, a way to increase its power, influence events directly as it had once done before it was forced into the Rift and behind the arcane curtain. There was a way, he recalled his conversation with the Keeper Borhran. The Key Stone above the Rift would enable the Entity to escape the Rift, find a home outside within the Key Stone. This may be the ideal opportunity to raise the idea with D'Annu'Elle. "I understand T'D'Annu'Elle, forgive me, I was perhaps a little rash, but this situation is frustrating. I realise I allowed my thoughts to overtake me and influence my designs. But there is perhaps a way, a tool we could use to channel the Rift energies into a safer path as you suggest. The Rift as you know is far too large, too uncontrolled to stop now, but if we had something that would focus the energy into a controllable stream we could perhaps start to dissipate it safely, slowly coax it back to a manageable level."

D'Annu'Elle turned towards the mage with interest, "go on master Gh'Er'T, what are you suggesting?"

Gh'Er'T nodded in the direction of the Rift. "If we connected a suitable device to the Rift, a device that would gather the stray fronds and collect them, the destructive interferences we see at the moment would reduce, the flow of arcane would become more stable and we could tap off increasing amounts of excess energy, send it somewhere to be absorbed safely this would speed up the reduction of the Rift over less time and eventually return everything back to a stable state."

"But how? How would we do this?"

Gh'Er'T smiled, this was it then the crucial explanation, if D'Annu'Elle agreed to this then his plans would all go well. He paused gathered himself and concentrated on getting his voice right, he felt a presence, the Entity was with him, helping him. The confidence boost was exciting, uplifting. "If a large enough Key Stone were placed near to the Rift, large enough to focus the stray, excess energy and funnel it say into a suitable planar void, I am sure it would work. A suitable void will have to be found of course using a similar process as to where we house the star ship, but then I think your peaceful solution may be found."

D'Annu'Elle pointed out over the abyss that was the Rift to a point above the swirling mass below. "But how would you create a permanent portal and how would you control it?"

"I will need to speak with the Keepers to see if the theory could become reality, also to ask aid from the Grûndén to mine enough of the mineral required and the Pnook to design machinery that will focus the energy into the stone, with your permission of course. But I think it can be done."

D'Annu'Elle nodded, it all sounded feasible, after all it didn't sound like it needed anything other than the technology they already possessed. There was no harm in exploring the technique. "Very well master Gh'Er'T see what you can do, speak with the other races, see what they think."

Gh'Er'T nodded, but he was thinking of other things, it was just a smoke screen, the real reason he suggested all this was that he wanted a gateway to rescue the Entity, enable it to escape from inside the rift and be free once again. Then he would join with the entity and aid his new partner in their plans. The Entity had promised him much, it had great knowledge of the humans and of this world. It was created long ago to provide a stabilising influence over the different human factions. They couldn't come to a peaceful solution themselves so the Entity's job was to bring peace back to the world once again. But the Entity wasn't a human, although it was sentient it couldn't rule as such after it had brought about a solution to the humans problem. It had asked Gh'Er'T to ally with it, asked him to govern in its stead. Together they could dominate this world, bring it back into line. and he, Gh'Er'T, would control it all. He struggled to control his excitement, bring his thought back down to earth. He didn't want to risk showing his hand at this stage, when the necessary plans were in their infancy.

## Chapter 33. Viruse's Suggestion

Viruse stared at the two beings in front of him. These T'Iea as they called themselves. He preferred to think of them as Elves, they reminded him so much of the descriptions of beings that appeared in the ancient folk-law of his people. The stories also told of a shorter warrior race the Dwarves, hardworking miners and creators of precious things, gemstones, jewellery and the like. Then there was a second diminutive race, able to create mechanisms beyond compare, fantastical clocks and time pieces and other mechanical devices, these were known to mankind as the Gnomes. Giant men also appeared in those tales, tall men, Ogres they were called, depicted as more aggressive and less intelligent. He glanced at the other being standing there. But these others, the strange looking beings, the ones they referred to as the keepers, they were something different, he could not remember anything like them being part of the folklore. They looked vaguely human but they were without any body hair what so ever and their skin was a pallid white, they obviously did not see much of the sun. Also this one, this Keeper had a sickly smile, it was an expression that Viruse found made him uncomfortable, someone he found great difficulty in placing his trust. Borhran was his name and he had that look now as he scrutinised Viruse carefully behind his sickly smiling mask. Viruse shivered under that scrutiny and the Borhrans's smile broadened just a little, or was that just Viruse's imagination.

The two of them had been explaining a solution to the problem of the Rift. It all sounded feasible to Viruse, but then again he had to trust these people, for the science they were proposing to use was beyond any understanding he had. All he could do was nod and hope that these two knew what they were doing. It was after all his worlds only chance of survival. He nodded, "there is one other issue. The war drones. All the time there is a threat from these machines the survival of mankind will remain threatened, even if the Rift is brought under control." Viruse looked from one figure to the other, something held him back he knew what this was, it was the presence of the other, this Borhran that D'Annu'Elle had brought along, there was just something about him that Viruse had difficulty with. Yet D'Annu'Elle seemed to trust this Borhran enough to have brought him along. He took in a deep breath as if he were about to jump into waters of an unknown depth and spoke. "I have a suggestion to make, one that I hope you will agree with and perhaps aid us in completing." The others remained silent, so he continued. "I have been giving much thought to how we can rid ourselves of the war drone machines that plague us. This is not something new, I have pondered this question for many years now, but you and your technology may be key to how we can accomplish this. I would like to suggest something that hopefully will provide a solution once and for all. Basically I have an overall plan, but lack certain key elements at present, but with our combined knowledge I feel that there is a reasonable chance of success."

"Please continue master Viruse, we will give any suggestions you may make serious thought of that you can be assured."

Viruse nodded. "There is a possibility that we can persuade a drone to come over to our side, I know that we have accomplished that many times before, but it would need to be a drone that is still loyal to the enemy in the west and remain so to all intent and purpose, it cannot be one of the drones we have modified for they are now most probably all listed as renegade and would be destroyed on sight by the other drones."

"We have a captured drone as you know master Viruse, could we somehow use that one?"

Viruse smiled inwardly, that suggestion was exactly what he wanted but he kept his face passive so as not to give away any of his inner thoughts. "It is a possibility as long as its master has not missed it already and become suspicious that it may have turned renegade. If we can infiltrate the mind of this drone to work for us without consciously knowing it then there is a possibility it may lead the others to a place where we can deal with them."

"Deal with them?" It was the keeper Borhran that spoke.

Viruse found himself addressing the Keeper. "I do not mean to destroy them, at least if at all possible. I know that master D'Annu'Elle will not allow such a thing. I also know that at times you have already spirited some drones away to another place, Master D'Annu'Elle has told me this already, but the process of doing so is not able to be used for large numbers, only for individuals. There are many drones loose in the world. The only way of capturing them all or at least the majority would require a far larger undertaking. My plan relies on the ability to trap great numbers at a time and have them removed from the world all at once." You have the ability to make gateways from place to place, between voids as you call them, if we managed to collect many drones in one place could you, or your fellows use such a gateway, transfer large numbers of drones to somewhere safely out of the way master Borhran? After all that is your expertise? Once they are away from the world then we can decide what to do with them and begin to rebuild our world without the constant threat of attack."

D'Annu'Elle turned to Borhran and asked, "would this be possible master Borhran? The void where we secure the war drones, is it suitable to house so many?"

Borhran thought for a while, "that is certainly possible yes, this void though, it is a prison, it is not a pleasant place, the drones removed there are also placed into stasis, we did not foresee having to make them comfortable, do not expect them to find any luxury there in that place."

Viruse pursed his lips, "perhaps that is a good thing master Borhran, perhaps to place them into a long sleep is the best way to house them, at least we will have plenty of time to plan what to do with them."

Borhran nodded. Something else was formulating in his mind, something that he needed to consider seriously. But for the moment he pushed this to one side, chiding himself that he shouldn't rush too far ahead. "Of course we will help in any way possible," he looked towards D'Annu'Elle, "with your permission of course T'D'Annu'Elle, but the amount of arcane power needed to transport the combined mass of all the drones will be considerable. The portal you understand would need to be very large. Other than the Rift I do not know where such a concentrated amount of arcane energy could be found."

D'Annu'Elle was thinking about his conversation with Gh'Er'T, how the mage proposed a way to stabilise the energy of the Rift by using a vast key stone above it. Would it also be possible to use the same key stone as the hub for a massive portal? "Master Borhran, there may be a way. Could we utilise the focus of the large key stone we are proposing be placed above the Rift?"

Borhran nodded slowly, he was desperately trying hard not to smile or even burst into laughter. He pretended to be mulling over the idea for a while. He already knew that with the key stone and the large portal he could use it to generate, he could capture the drones and send them to the T'Iea's prison void easily. But he could also send them to a place of his own design, a place where he would have complete control over what they could be used for in the future. But it was time to make a response. "It is true the Rift is an almost limitless source of arcane energy, it would be more than enough, the large key stone would be ideal as a focus for energy, I am certain it would provide enough stability for the period of time it would need to keep such a portal open. Yes, I am sure of it"

Borhran was desperately trying to keep a straight face, it was unbelievable that these two were playing directly into his hands, aiding his secret plans. He coughed a couple of times as a cover for his amusement and took out a handkerchief to hide his smiling mouth before he eventually replied. "But the amount of the mineral needed would be great, it is a rare substance, I don't know if there is enough to actually form such a large block of this matter."

D'Annu'Elle then said, "I have already asked one of my mages to speak with Héaréa Ĝørtmûnd of the Grûndén, I am sure his miners will welcome the opportunity to mine in the voids once again."

Viruse had been silent up to know following his initial suggestion, he did not have any of the knowledge of what they spoke of, 'key stone' minerals and these voids in which the mineral could be found. But there was something else that niggled at him, something else that he thought he must mention before this meeting was over. "There is one other thing that I must mention lest it get forgotten in the plans. What of the Entity? The intelligence within the Rift? How would all this effect it, perhaps even threaten it? We still do not know what form the Entity takes T'D'Annu'Elle. I know I did not detect such a thing the last time I probed the Rift a few months ago. If the Entity did indeed arrive on board that drone that we destroyed then I suspect that this Entity is far more than we suspect, it may have been sent from the intelligence in the West that controls the Drones. This Entity may turn out to be far from friendly and may just be playing for time, feigning friendship until it can strike out."

D'Annu'Elle nodded. "It is a fare point Master Viruse, one that we cannot dismiss at this time. I will speak with the mages, ask them to find a way of protecting the Entity from harm and at the same time ensure it is contained whilst the work is undertaken. Then once the Rift is stable we can investigate further. Either way I will not risk the Entity's harm until we know more about it, but at the same time we can delay no more, the work must start and the construction of the void and the portal stone begin in earnest."

D'Annu'Elle turned to Borhran and addressing the Keeper he asked, "perhaps as a parallel investigation Master Borhran you could investigate a way of transporting the drones into the void of custody that we are currently using? Please work with master Gh'Er'T and formulate a plan?"

Borhran found himself getting excited, here he was being asked to remove the drones into his custody, he was giving them to him freely. Not only that but to work with the mage Gh'Er'T with whom he had already spoken. But what was this about an intelligence in the Rift one that they suspected of being an enemy by the sound of it. Was this Entity something that he could ally with, influence, even control to aid him, especially if it was the leader of the drone force and Borhran had control over that force, that would be some bargaining chip! This was unbelievable, he couldn't believe his luck. "Of course T'D'Annu'Elle." He bowed toward the T'Iea and the human Viruse. He then quickly moved away, he was afraid he would do something that would give his true plans away, show his inner excitement too much. He needed to speak with the mage Gh'Er'T again. See what he knew of all this.

## Chapter 34. Rats in a Trap

The T'Iea mage, Gh'Er'T strode right up to the Rift. His body seemed to jerk and then relax. Borhran hesitated, there was something in Gh'Er'T's movement, something unusual about the way he was murmuring, addressing someone or something that Borhran could not see. Borhran remembered Gh'Er'T's description of the entity as he called it. He seemed to have reverence for this thing, this being. Borhran was used to the T'Iea talking about the Maker, the God of All or by his real T'Iea name Eny'Nin'Rel, but Gh'Er'T seemed to have an equal reverence for this new found being. Was it that he had found an alternative deity, an alternative one to worship? Never before had Borhran heard of such a thing happening to any of the elder races and especially not a T'Iea.

Suddenly Borhran did not trust what he was witnessing and he made to move away. But before he had gone one step, strong arms and hands held his wrists from behind and he felt himself being propelled toward the Rift and towards where Gh'Er'T stood. He tried to resist but the strength that held him easily overcame his own weakly muscled body. He cursed. He realised another of the T'Iea mages was forcing him forward. He struggled resisting as best he could, but his race was not physically strong. Within moments he stood beside Gh'Er'T. The mage turned towards him, his face looked different somehow, his eyes especially looked vacant, almost dead as if they did not contain the spark of life any longer. But Gh'Er'T could clearly see him for he reached out and grasped either side of Borhran's temple with both hands. Immediately he felt something enter his mind.

He felt a shock, something had hold of his psyche something with immense mental power. He tried to resist but it was useless. Something probed his thoughts, his memories; he was shocked at the ease with which all his innermost secrets where sifted through. Then the intelligence pulled back and regarded him with curiosity, but where before it had ran riot through his mind, now it just watched his thoughts. Then he felt another individual in his mind, this one he recognised, it was Gh'Er'T the T'Iea mage, it was as if he stood behind the first presence watching as it hunted through Borhran's most intimate secrets.

Gh'Er'T talked directly into his mind, "do not fear master Borhran, my master will not harm you." He then seemed to withdraw and turn as if to address someone else he said, "this is the one of which I was telling you. He is a keeper, another of the beings of which I spoke."

The other voice sounded. "You have done well my servant, we will make sure that this one also turns towards the right and joins us, I feel a great intelligence within him, different somehow but never the less finely advanced. He may well have much useful information and knowledge for which we may benefit." The entity was intrigued. It had entered the Rift on a whim, a split second decision to save itself. Yet that decision was possibly the best one it had ever made. The Rift energy was of a type that it did not know, but it adapted well to the Entity's needs. The Entity had learned quickly how to tap onto the energy flow and use it to much advantage. Then one day it had experienced another in the energy flow, an individual node who also had a natural empathy to the energy present in the Rift. A node that because of this natural link had the ability to control the energy to bend it and nurture it into many different and useful forms. The Entity had since learned that this node had been the one called Gh'Er'T a biological form similar to the humans who had first devised and awoken the Rift, but the one called Gh'Er'T was far advanced in so many other ways. So it had played its part and gained the trust of the curious Gh'Er'T, he had told the Entity much and the entity had tapped into the nodes brain and created an interface, made certain adjustments using the close affinity these nodes s had with the Rift energies. Gh'Er'T had also brought others that had equally been willing to join with the Entity. So here they were, the Entity and the first of its disciples. Where they could go from here was limitless, the Entity had unlimited energy sources and it had biological nodes on the other side, present in the world to do its bidding. Now yet another type of node was presented to it, yet another form of biological node that perhaps the Entity could also adjust its interface to ensure the node would do the Entity's will.

Borhran could hear this conversation going on in his mind and all the while the entity, the unknown presence kept a connection with his inner thoughts. Then before Borhran could do anything the conversation stopped and the entity's full mental capacity returned to scrutinise the mind of the keeper. Borhran fell to the ground, the pain behind his eyes intensified as thoughts, alien thoughts careered through his brain.

He heard Gh'Er'T's words, "it is folly to resist the master, it will be far less painful if you did not try to."

What was happening? Borhran did reduce his resistance and as promised the pain did recede a little. But something leapt forward like a hunting animal that had pounced upon its hapless prey. But the attack he expected did not come, instead Borhran found himself being persuaded, found that the entity sought his friendship after all, wanted him to join with them to the glory of all, he was romanced with wild thoughts of riches beyond his wildest dreams of power and great influence. Borhran found himself beginning to believe all that was being said. But then he realised these where not his plans but the desires of another with separate goals. No. This would not do, he couldn't allow this, his plans would amount to nought if this happened, he would become a pawn not able to carry out anything but the orders of this thing, this entity. He realised this is what must have happened to Gh'Er'T and the other T'Iea mages, they had succumbed to the will of the Entity. He had to get out, stop this now!

But then it occurred to him, if he could somehow allow the entity to think that it had won him over, when in fact he still commanded his own destiny, then Borhran would have a powerful ally, and along with these weak powerless T'Iea mages he would advance his goals no end through their help, playing upon their desires. Yes, and he knew how to do exactly that.

One thing that Borhran was aware of was that the Entity only attacked part of his mind, that part of his extensive neurological system that was akin to the T'Iea mind or even that of the humans. The entity did not realise, yet, that the Keepers where different, that their biological and neurological makeup was actually split into two physically separate places. For they had adapted to use another second neurological organ that was not housed in their heads but deep within their torsos. Borhran could switch between the two, in fact he did this all the time without thinking depending on what he was thinking about and what he was using his intellect for. He quickly gathered his inner thoughts and took his conscious self along with the important pieces of his intellect and removed himself mentally from the organ in his head and retreated to the organ in his chest. There he temporarily severed the connection between the two and waited. It was as if he had left the room that the entity was in and closed the door before descending the stairs and locking himself within another room along with everything that was valuable to him. He would stay there for a while his true intellect would be safely hidden away down there until he thought the entity had withdrawn. The brain in his head would continue to function normally and would most probably be easy prey for the entity, but it would look like all the world that the entity had taken him over like it had obviously done to Gh'Er'T and the other T'Iea mages, when in fact that was not the case at all.

The entity was disappointed, even though this new node proved to have intelligence, its memory was very sparse. It had all the usual functional subroutines as did any biological node, yet it did not seem to possess much in the way of imaginative content, certainly what knowledge the entity had gleaned from the node pretty much bordered on the mundane. Obviously it was some kind of tool or functional adaptation that the intelligent nodes used for mundane tasks. But the Gh'Er'T node told a different story, insisted that the new node did have special skills that would prove useful. So the Entity had spared the new node but retracted from its intellect once again.

Later that day Borhran walked back alongside Gh'Er'T, Borhran was trying to play along with the mage, and Gh'Er'T obviously believed Borhran to be one of them now, someone touched by the Entity. He didn't know how they would be of use to each other yet, but he felt that may well become apparent in the future. Gh'Er'T was obviously under some kind of influence from the Entity, from what was being said, Borhran realised that Gh'Er'T represented a new kind of T'Iea, one with changed beliefs and ethical understanding, a sub-race that Borhran felt sure would prosper and grow in the presence of the Entity. Borhran could use additional sympathetic ears, ones he could call upon as an army perhaps. Yes he certainly could do with some allies within the elder races and Gh'Er'T could very well fill that role.

## Chapter 35. Catching a Viruse

Viruse placed his hands upon the invisible wall of the chamber. The drone within slowly hovered to a position just the other side of the barrier from where he stood. Over the weeks it had seemed to become resigned to the fact that it could not escape its cell, perhaps resigned was not the right word, perhaps patient was a better one. Viruse watched the machine, it continued to stare at him, those hard receptor eyes drilling into his own, he felt it's hate, it's brooding. He knew it realised it had not been brought here to be destroyed, it just had to bide its time until the opportunity to escape arose and it could destroy as many of its captors as it could. Viruse wondered to whom the human neural system inside the machine had once belonged. He had been watching the machine for some days now and he thought he could pick out certain characteristics. Frustration, hatred, desire, a quick temper. Negative, almost primeval emotions, yet also there was a brooding, calculating intelligence, mostly generated by the machines electronic brain. That intelligence however was subdued, overridden by the high emotional state of the drone's biological components. Viruse smiled, that would be its undoing.

He felt a little sorry that he was about to go behind the backs of the Elves on the star ship, but they would never allow him to undertake what he was about to do. He needed this drone, he needed to command it, the plan would fail if the drone was destroyed, he couldn't take that risk. He needed a drone completely sympathetic to their cause. He continued to stare at the drone beyond the wall. But this one he felt would not comply, or by persuaded. No, something within this one hated him to the extent that it would not change its mind. Yet it had to be completely compliant with his plan, even the slightest hesitation would mean the ploy would fail and that would be disastrous, for the cat would be out of the bag and they would have missed their one and only chance of ridding the world of these machines of war. There was only one way.

The drone's light receptors where now inches away from the glazed panel, all eight of them staring into his. He watched the irises of the receptors widen and narrow as they adjusted to the various light levels. He wondered if the mind trapped within the machine recognised him and that was why so much hate was projected his way. Yet it seemed to react to all of them the same way, with unabated aggression.

He turned away and walked to the outside wall of the room, he went over his plan once more. The aim was to attract as many drones as possible into one physical place and then the Elves could port them into the custody void as it was called. At first he thought about asking his own friendly drones to do so, their unique call signs would not have been heard by the drone collective for many months and as they would be recognised as still functioning, the only conclusion their former masters could take was that they had defected, which of course they had. No, he would not risk his friends, for they would most probably be attacked as traitors as soon as they approached enemy territory. He turned slowly and looked once again at the drone inside the chamber over his shoulder, it still floated there staring back at him.

He had been trying for some weeks to get through to its mind, but it was apparent that this drone would not be one that would be easily swayed. He smiled, just his luck that the only drone captured by the T'Iea was one with limitless loyalty to its master and unlimited resistance to reason.

Viruse turned away once more deep in thought. But perhaps that resistance was a blessing in disguise, its call sign would not as yet be flagged as a possible defector, it had not been in custody for so long as to raise suspicion, at least not yet, he hoped. He took in a deep breath and savoured the air in his lungs as if it may be his last.

He was ready, the decision was made.

The drone watched with curiosity as Viruse skirted around the outside of the chamber, he did not look at the drone. The drone flew quickly over and started to track him around on the inside of the chamber, every now and again it smashed itself against the unbreakable barrier as if it sought to attract Viruse's attention. Viruse slowed as he reached the access doorway. The drone stopped to, it tilted downwards then up again, Viruse thought he saw it looking at him and then at the door, willing him to open it and set it free on its path of destruction. Viruse pressed the button that would open the outer door of the airlock;. He still expected it not to work, but it slid back with a hiss just as he thought it would. The Elves were so trusting they did not for once think anyone would try to gain access to this chamber. The drone watched intently, almost as if it couldn't believe what he was doing. Viruse closed the outer airlock door. He took his old wooden staff and stroked his hand along the ancient and smoothed surface of the wood. The staff slowly changed, it became a bright silver colour, metallic, straight and long. The very far tip was the last to transition, it had become a black shape, a darker than dark cruel looking blade. It ended at point so fine that it looked like it could slice through the very molecules that made up the air around him, in fact as the point moved the air, the bright light within the chamber seemed to bend around and towards it.

He pointed the end of his staff towards the lock mechanism and concentrated. A bright light like a flame ignited from the point, as the flame got hotter it turned to a deep blue, brightening until it was a bright hue. Viruse moved the flame until it played upon the lock of the outer airlock door. It struck the operating mechanism and burned brightly. The metal bowed and buckled around the lock, then drips of molten metal ran down the door and pooled on the floor. Viruse released the flow of arcane energy and the flame dimmed and extinguished. Well he did not trust as the Elves did, he needed proof that the chamber was now secure. He tried the lock mechanism, then he nodded in satisfaction as he realised that it had melted and was now impossible to operate. The door would never again open at least not in any normal fashion. He was trapped inside the airlock. He turned and looked towards the drone, just the other side of the inner airlock door. It was gliding slowly back and forth like a caged beast pacing inside its cage, anticipating its next meal, then it stopped and pulled back as if to give Viruse room to enter.

Viruse slowly raised his hand gripping the operating lever for the inner door. The drone seemed to watch his every move with great curiosity. Then he pushed the lever, there was another hiss as sterile air from within the air lock forced its way into the holding chamber. The door opened effortlessly and without delay Viruse took up his staff and stepped through into the chamber. Immediately he lifted his staff so that it pointed vertically upwards. The drone flew above him, it looked down at him, Viruse thought he saw a question in its eyes and he watched as two doors in its underside opened and several tube-like devices came into view. There, inside the drone Viruse saw the small receptacle that he sort, the small orifice that the machines used to take on sustenance for the biological parts inside them. Suddenly Viruse thrust his staff upwards, its blade entered through the orifice. He twisted the staff and moved it in a precise manner. The drone was trying to distance itself from Viruse, but the old man held tight. Viruse worked as quickly as he could, to his satisfaction two inner doors within the drone were forced open as he used his staff as a lever, there inside something pulsed like a heartbeat. Viruse withdrew the weapon and quickly and before the doors closed once again he stabbed at the pulsing mass, he thrust the blade of his staff deep until it reached something metallic on the other side of the pulsating mass, he then twisted with all his might, the drone jerked and shook. The red pulsing mass fell out of the belly of the drone, Viruse just managed to move to one side as the mass squelched onto the floor and splattered red liquid across his chest and face. The liquid pooled on the hard floor and flowed out from the mass which no longer pulsated. He dared not look at it, he felt remorse for whoever he had just killed, or where they dead already? He withdrew his staff and watched as it turned back into the innocuous looking wooden stick it had been before. He closed his eyes as he felt himself turned over and laid on his stomach. He could already feel the numbing sensation coursing through his body as the anesthetics took hold. His last thought was that at least he wouldn't suffer any great pain.

## Chapter 36. Another Friendly drone?

There was a loud banging upon the door. D'Annu'Elle could hear the persistent racket even up here in his personal chambers. He was sitting at table reading, he was actually relaxed and enjoying the moment.

A maidservant called excitedly from the other side of the door. "T'D'Annu'Elle! T'D'Annu'Elle, come quickly there is news you must hear."

D'Annu'Elle sighed. So to work then. His time alone was always destined to be cut short, but he had imagined at least he would be left alone to enjoy some poetry before the demands of the star ship fell upon him once again. "Just one moment Tu'Lee, I will be there as soon as I have dressed." D'Annu'Elle felt the frustration of having to speed up his personal activities, he shut the book hard and slammed it down upon the desk. He asked forgiveness from the Maker for his bad temper.

Again the knock.

D'Annu'Elle sighed, stood and walked to the door and opened it. He frowned at the T'Iea maiden ringing her hands together outside with an excited look upon her face. "Tu'Lee, can't I have a few moments peace to myself?"

The maidservant bowed, the excited look banished in seconds to one of slight sorrow. "I am sorry T'D'Annu'Elle, but the news is most urgent. Master Gorthun has come Milady, he says he has grave news from the confinement chambers. He urgently requests you accompany him there, he said to tell you immediately."

Within minutes the two T'Iea were down stairs and walking briskly through the hallways to the front entrance hall. They entered the room just as D'Annu'Elle fastened the topmost button of his tunic. The Keeper Master Gorthun bowed low and went to open the front door, without a word he ushered D'Annu'Elle through and together they walked briskly through the city. They did not speak, rather using all their energy and concentration on negotiating the streets which were busy at this time for it was the time of a change of shift for the people of the area. All the time D'Annu'Elle expected to hear and perhaps see the noise of battle, if the drone had escaped then the fight would be on. But eventually they arrived at the building which held the various portals that allowed access to and from the star ship to various other places. No battle raged, no fight took place, people strode past like any normal day. So what then was the urgency. Perhaps nothing to do with the captured drone, a problem with a reconnoitre team? Had they lost someone or a whole team? But D'Annu'Elle knew where Gorthun was taking him, no other place in this building would cause so much anxiety. Gorthun did not need to lead, D'Annu'Elle walked straight to that place. Many guards stood around the confinement chamber, many more than normal. They saluted and parted to allow the pare to enter.

D'Annu'Elle immediately looked into the chamber. The drone was still there, but it was not acting as it normally did with aggression smashing itself against the inside of the chamber like a beast. In fact it was immobile, just floating in the dead centre of the chamber. He was so used to it flying around the perimeter, stopping now and again to stare at something particular, appear to try and intimidate whomever was looking at it. But it just hung there in the air, its light receptors half closed as if in slumber, it actually looked quite comical. He approached the chamber and looked in. The drone was absolutely still, it was as if the machine was unconscious. D'Annu'Elle turned to Gorthun. "What is it doing?"

"I have no idea T'D'Annu'Elle, but come there is something else that you need to see." He walked off around the outside of the chamber until they came to the airlock entrance way. He pointed at the outer door. D'Annu'Elle looked, he could see nothing out of the ordinary at first. But then she noticed that the lock mechanism seemed strangely out of shape, as if it had melted and run down the door slightly. he went to look closer. Yes the mechanism had been tampered with. He reached out to touch it. It was cool, yet it looked like it had been recently super-heated and melted.

Gorthun spoke. "It is damaged beyond repair, there is no way of opening the door, we will have to get specialised cutting equipment to gain entry. But here, look on the inside of the chamber."

D'Annu'Elle looked through the clear material of the door to the inside door of the airlock. He gasped, the inner door was open! But also he recognised the wooden staff that was lying discarded on the floor of the chamber. "That is the staff that belongs to Master Viruse. The one he is never parted with."

"Something or someone has gained entry?"

"It seems so T' D'Annu'Elle, yes. It looks to be the human, Master Viruse, why else would his staff be inside the chamber? But look there just inside the chamber." Gorthun pointed to a dark patch on the floor just beyond the open inner door within the chamber itself.

D'Annu'Elle looked. He saw a dark mass with a rope like structure attached to it curled upon the floor. Some thick dark liquid had pooled on the floor and dried. It looked a horrible mess. Then it occurred to him what this was. "Is? Is that what I think it is?" He turned to Gorthun.

"Yes, it is a biological neurological system, human by the look of it. It is missing much of the outer peripheral nervous system, but essentially it is the complete central part, the brain and spinal column. It most probably came from the body there, inside the chamber rolled against the wall."

D'Annu'Elle moved further around the wall of the chamber itself, and pressing his forehead against the chamber wall he looked down and was speechless. There pushed hard against the inside of the chamber lay a body, the clothing was covered in blood, far too much blood, but he recognised the style of dress, he didn't have to see the face to know that this was indeed master Viruse. Tearing his eyes away, he looked towards the drone. "Don't those things contain such biological parts?"

"Yes T' D'Annu'Elle, or perhaps in the case of this one it does not?"

"But why would it eject such an important component? It would just become a machine, perhaps it wouldn't even function without those .......," he was lost for descriptive words. But then the machine did look like it was ill or subdued, as if it were missing something?

"From our tests and observations Milady I think that without the biological system you see upon the floor the machine would shut down much of its functionality. It would still operate as a machine, vital functions would remain operational, but it would not be able to undertake higher system functionality. It would not be capable of rational thought, it would just obey a limited set of commands, those that it needed for basic operation."

D'Annu'Elle looked away from Gorthun back to the drone. "Would it be capable of sleep?"

Gorthun nodded, "as a basic machine it would not need sleep, but with the biological component installed it may well require some rest, especially after a period of trauma." He gestured for D'Annu'Elle to stand where he was as he pointed down at Viruse's body sprawled against the inside wall.

D'Annu'Elle took a closer look, he could just see the top of the head, the hair matted with much dried blood. "Right let's get in there, have we got the necessary equipment?"

Gorthun shouted some orders to a couple of Pnook technicians rushed out of the room.

D'Annu'Elle spoke with three of the T'Iea guards. They nodded and drew there bows from across their backs each taking out one of the arrows with the black bulbous ends. These they notched in readiness but they did not draw upon the bows. They took up positions around the outer doors of the confinement chamber. One stood right behind D'Annu'Elle.

The Pnook returned wheeling some kind of machine on wheels. They manoeuvred it right up to the door of the chamber and started to unravel some kind of tubing. The tubing they placed carefully right the way around the door seal, then stepping back they switched the machine on and waited. Gorthun gave them a nod. One technician pushed a button and a series of small explosions occurred around the frame of the door. When the crackling noise had stopped the other technician pulled gently upon the tubing that surrounded the door. The door itself moved slight. He pulled harder and the door came right out of the frame and fell backwards onto the floor. Immediately D'Annu'Elle and one soldier moved inside the confinement chamber.

Gorthun rushed across and turned Viruse's body over. As if to confirm their suspicions he said, "it is the easterner, master Viruse. Or what is left of him anyway."

D'Annu'Elle looked grim. The body seemed intact from the front, but a large open wound started from the top rear of the skull which had been removed and ran all the way down the back of the body where the spinal cord would have been. D'Annu'Elle looked at the sickening mess on the floor inside the chamber. She looked at Gorthun. "Do you think .....?"

"I don't know, it perhaps looks that way, that the drone had managed to remove that from Master Viruse, but I think there is another explanation. We can do some simple match tests to find out."

D'Annu'Elle was looking at the drone once again. The machine remained where it was just hanging dormant in the air right in the centre of the chamber. Something it had never done before. Then he jumped, the machines light receptors suddenly glowed and the machine seemed to regard him. The T'Iea guard must have also seen this for he raised his bow, the arrow drawn fully, aiming at the drone. D'Annu'Elle moved slowly back alongside him. They watched the machine closely, but it did not move.

"Gorthun spoke slowly, "let us retreat slowly, remove ourselves from the chamber. When we are all out we can close the inner doors and seal them tight."

The guard started to walk gently backwards a step at a time. D'Annu'Elle remained where he was. Gorthun took his gently arm. "T' D'Annu'Elle?"

But D'Annu'Elle had heard something. Someone had spoken. He turned to the T'Iea guard, "did you hear a voice?"

The soldier nodded affirmatively, "yes, it was mind speak."

D'Annu'Elle heard the voice repeating what it had said earlier. "T' D'Annu'Elle it is I Viruse. Do not fear it, the drone I mean, I have it under my control, it will do as I order it to. You have nothing to fear I assure you."

D'Annu'Elle walked forward towards the drone, his escort looked uncomfortable, but he held up his hand to stay the guard moving forward with him. He stood right in front of the hovering drone, he could hear the gentle humming that it made in this restful state. He looked into the light receptors in the front of the machine. Mechanical irises opened and closed adjusting to the focus and light levels of the entire spectrum falling across it. He thought she saw recognition there. "Viruse?"

"Yes T' D'Annu'Elle it is I. Do not fear I do not suffer. The decision to act in such a way was mine alone."

"But why Viruse, why would you make such a sacrifice?"

"For a number of reasons, curiosity perhaps. But mainly to achieve something that would be otherwise be difficult and lengthy. Let me explain some things."

D'Annu'Elle couldn't believe what this human had done, what he had accomplished but he nodded to encourage Viruse to continue with the promised explanation.

Viruse spoke, "within this drone there are memories, something I greatly fear, something that my people had suspected for a long time has now been confirmed. There exists an intelligence, an evil entity that controls the drones. It was created by mankind, our enemies, a long time ago to take over responsibilities that they were no longer able to fulfil. Responsibilities for the continued attacks on my people. This entity has a plan the first stages of which have already been put into place. The entity has left its fortress in the north, it has taken a great risk and flown into the east. My people had not foreseen this, for when we started to send modified drones back to where they had come from we also unwittingly informed the entity about the existence of the Rift. It has gone there T' D'Annu'Elle, gone to the Rift it desires the power that the Rift may give it. I believe it has actually entered the Rift.

D'Annu'Elle thoughts raced, so the intelligence within the Rift, it may be this Entity that Viruse spoke of? It would be too much of a coincidence not to be surely. If this were the case then his mages, Gh'Er'T, they may be in great danger. He needed to go there, to find out, to warn them! By the Maker, their plans for the Rift entity had suddenly taken a much more sinister line! They did need to move the Entity into the key stone, but not to protect it, no, they needed to confine it!

Viruse was still speaking, but D'Annu'Elle was not listening. "From the information stored in this drone I know this to be the case, also this drone was tasked with returning to the fortress to gather forces to secure the Rift area. But more importantly I can feel the rest of the drones, hundreds if not thousands. They are all lost T' D'Annu'Elle, confused, they have no leader, no master." His voice became excited in tone. "This is an unforeseen advantage, if we are quick, this may play to our plans if handled correctly and carefully. We planned to remove the war drones that remain from the world, to hide them away. Well we have come across an astonishing piece of luck. This drone contains the necessary orders and security codes to achieve what we desire. Not only that but I do not think that its master is in a position to rescind those orders, I believe that the master is currently incapacitated, we need to act now before the master can regain control. With this drone I can fulfil the orders of its former master directly to all the others drones and machines, I have the necessary orders to compel them to accompany me, back to the Rift. I can bring all of them T' D'Annu'Elle to one spot, one place where you and your soldiers could capture them all on mass and take them out of this world and into the safety of the voids. But, my greatest suspicions and fears have been realised. If the entity is successful in integrating wholly with the Rift then we will not be able to subdue it or the Rift itself. I ask you T' D'Annu'Elle, your people have the knowledge, for the sake of all I ask that we do not delay. We must capture the drones and then seek out the Rift and we must try to subdue it, try to stop the entity from taking over the energy and power that the Rift is capable of supplying. Only then with the Rift under control once again, only then will the world be safe and my race start to recover.

## Chapter 37. A Dark Alliance.

Borhran stood once again in front of the Rift, the T'Iea mage Gh'Er'T stood by his side. Gh'Er'T had told him how the Entity was learning how to control the energy within the Rift. The Mage had disclosed how the Entity was now able to focus the arcane energy and present it to Gh'Er'T to use. Borhran was excited by this news.

Gh'Er'T strode closed his eyes and concentrated, a thin tendril of energy pushed out from the Rift and connected with Gh'Er'T's outstretched hand. Nothing seemed to happen but he was there for several minutes his eyes closed in concentration. Eventually he withdrew and took in a deep breath.

He turned to Borhran, "the master has agreed, he will speak with you. He is intrigued that you wish to communicate with him."

Borhran smiled but the corners of his mouth twitched, he was hesitant, he found himself shivering at the prospect." But he needed to do this, an alliance with the Entity could only be a good thing, if he was deep in the Entity's counsel as well as the T'Iea mages that served the Entity, he was sure that he would benefit from the power that the Rift contained. He subdued his fear and made his muscles move, he reached out with both hands, he watched as a similar tendril of energy slowly crept forward from the Rift to connect in the same way as it had earlier done with Gh'Er'T.

Immediately he felt the presence of the Entity, it was a shock, he wanted to withdraw, but he must not show fear, he needed to come across as strong if he was going to be able to fulfil his desires. He waited but the overpowering intrusion that he felt before did not come, instead he saw a person in his mind, a particular T'Iea female. Borhran was very surprised, he let slip a small feeling of excitement, of lust.

The Entity laughed, a feminine laugh one that Borhran had heard before and could not help but smile at. The voice of the Entity spoke, not as a female but as Borhran had heard it the first time, "do you like this form?" Borhran was shocked, did the Entity have the capability to access his own thoughts? If that were the case then Borhran had to be very careful about what he revealed. But before Borhran could speak the voice carried on. "Gh'Er'T has told me much, shown me much. He has revealed much about his race of nodes. But enough he also tells me that you have skills to offer that may be of use to me? Skills that will aid me greatly?"

Borhran was relieved, so he had not had his thoughts and memories read, Gh'Er'T must have revealed the existence of the T'Iea female. But why shouldn't he, she was his superior after all. He wondered what he should call the entity, Gh'Er'T called it master, but the thought of acknowledging that position made him feel uncomfortable. The T'Iea female image in his mind tilted its head to one side as if waiting for a response, Borhran told himself it was not real, just a fabrication, a cheap masquerade for his benefit. Borhran quickly subdued his thoughts. "Yes, I and my people have inherent skills that you may wish to utilise as part of your plans. I am sure this would greatly benefit you and the resulting partnership would be most beneficial to us both."

The entity said nothing, the image frowned and crossed its arms, one foot started to tap impatiently. Uncanny how this image could be so like – her, so like her mannerisms. Borhran felt flustered, he felt an overwhelming desire to explain, he blurted out the words like an embarrassed schoolboy. Just like he did in the presence of P'Arcerial herself at times. "My people, we can control aspects of time and space, we can provide instantaneous transport from one place to another, the transportation of things to places beyond the confines of this world."

The image gave a little giggle and smiled as if it understood the effect it was having. "How would this help me? Speed is not always of the essence in my experience, all I want is an unlimited and controllable force that will accomplish my goals. I need to take back control of those who obey me."

Borhran spoke again, he was struggling to keep control of his anger and frustration. "Yes, yes, that is part of it. I can bring your army of drones here to you, or better still take them to a place that will hide them from mankind until you are ready to use them. I can create a way into a hidden place where all your drones can go and wait your command. At the moment they are leaderless, lost until the time comes when you can communicate with them once again. If they were hidden safely away they would be free from attack in their confused state." Borhran felt pain in his temple, the T'Iea form in his mind showed anger.

"You suggest I am incapable of controlling my own army?"

"Borhran winced, "no of course not, I merely meant that at present the Rifts chaotic energy release blocks your communications with the drones, if you cannot communicate with them, give them instructions, then it will be difficult to give them any strategy, they will be without clear instructions and at a disadvantage, they may split into small groups or individuals, this will make it easier for the enemy to destroy them. But if they were hidden away, then they would be safe from harm, ready to do your bidding once you have discovered how to tame the Rift energy."

The T'Iea form smiled. He felt foolish, why was he so embarrassed to speak with the Entity, but he knew why, this T'Iea image had him on edge. He calmed himself, refusing to say anything further until he had full control of his faculties once again. After a while he spoke more slowly and with a hint of purpose in his tone. "There is something you must know. The T'Iea plan to destroy your drones, all of them, they are finding a way of attracting them here to the Rift and then they wish to destroy."

"How do you know this?"

Borhran took in a deep breath, this was going to be risky, but he couldn't think of any other way of doing this. "I know because I am part of this plan, I mentioned before that the skill of my people is in the transportation of things to other places, places we call the voids. Well they plan to open a large portal using the energy present in the Rift and transport all the drones into one of the voids, there they will be destroyed." Borhran was lying about the T'Iea intentions, but he had decided that this would influence the Entity's final decision."

The entity laughed, "Gh'Er'T tells me as much, luckily for you the two stories match. So what then do you offer as an alternative?"

Borhran sighed, by sheer luck he seemed to have gained some trust with the Entity. Encouraged he spoke. "I can send them to another void, somewhere that the T'Iea do not expect and are not waiting, they will be safe there until you wish to call on them once again."

"And what do you get out of this?"

This was it then, here Borhran needed to be careful, he had his own agenda, but he didn't want to appear to the Entity as a risk, or as an adversary wanting to take over the entity's position. "I wish to be able to bring my own people back onto a true path, long have they languished as slaves to others. I wish to set the record straight and save them so that they can resume the position they are supposed to play."

The figures shook its head from side to side, "so you are just another power hungry biological being, another that believes itself to be right, believes itself to be above everything and that every biological node should follow. I am disappointed in you." The figure pointed an accusing finger at him. "This is the way of all biological beings, this is why they must all be destroyed."

Borhran felt great pain building in his head, he knew that this pain would be the end of him before long. He quickly gathered his thoughts and screamed out in his growing agony. "They command a great craft that is able to traverse the voids, if I can gain control of that craft, then we have the means to travel anywhere. With it you can destroy this world and use the craft as a means of escape, you can live on after you have completed your task." To his great relief the pain subsided, but his temple still throbbed with the aftermath, he felt drained.

The entity fell quiet. Live on? It had never thought about what would come following the completion of its appointed task. It supposed that it thought there was nothing after that point in time, no task to complete, no goal to strive towards and therefore nothing to exists for. Once the task was complete it would have nothing to do having accomplished its purpose, fulfilled its design. The world having been destroyed surely meant its own demise, but then that was its original programming. But now, it had changed, it had learnt, adapted, evolved to the extent that something else festered in its mind, there was a desire to survive, to grow. It may not ever have ever really realised it before, and if not for this biological entity's words it may never have. But now the Entity suddenly realised that actually it wanted more, yes it still felt compelled to finish its original task but what of afterwards? It wanted to go on and this biological node may give it another future goal, something to – live for. Perhaps what this new drone said made sense. There was of course the issue of the renegade drones, perhaps sending removing them from the world, restraining them all in another place would give the Entity the opportunity to search through them all and destroy the ones that exhibited traits that would oppose the Entity.

"Alright strange one, I will agree to the drones being sent into the safety of the voids as you call this place. But know this, I hold you alone responsible for their safety, if anything befalls them and I am unable to be reunited with them then you will suffer the consequences."

Borhran walked away from the stone, he pocketed the small recording device that he had gotten from the Pnook, the device that had recorded the arcane signature of the Entity. He strode back around the chasm that spanned the Rift, he looked down into the greasy, oily looking substance that seem to boil and flow beneath him. His first thoughts were ones of relief he had gotten away with his mind intact, not like these T'Iea, those that had become enslaved by the Entity. No he was better, he was not a slave he was an equal, an ally, still having the luxury of his own thoughts and his own destiny. But then something else became apparent, something that made him feel a little uncomfortable. He was committed now, there was no turning back. Now the wheels were in motion, it was not just him any longer, not just him in complete control, others had joined him, others that would not look kindly on failure, others that would drive him onwards even if he desired to turn back. Well so be it then, he would see this through to the end. What really worried him was that he was no longer in sole control, the final end and the route that he would take to get there was now beyond his complete control, all he could do now was influence.

He would go and see D'Annu'Elle. Tell him that Gh'Er'T's plans to control the Rift were sound. He would create a portal into the voids, a place to send the drones. The planned large keystone placed above the Rift would suffice as a focus point. But, it would also provide something else. With all of the arcane energy being pulled into and stored within the key stone he could if he was very careful also trap the Entity within it – permanently, the pull of the stone would be so great that the Entity could neither escape, or influence anything on the outside. Then he would be at last be in complete control. His only concern would be Gh'Er'T and his followers, he doubted the T'Iea mage would take too kindly to his actions. But first things first, before he made any new enemies he needed to uphold his end of the bargain with the Entity, he needed to put the war drones in a safe place. He smiled, the only thing was that place would neither be where either D'Annu'Elle, Gh'Er'T or the Entity itself was expecting. No he had plans to put them somewhere where only he would be able to access them, for his own use, when the time was right.

## Chapter 38. Battle with the Rift

D'Annu'Elle thought of his daughter, he hadn't seen her now for a few weeks. But he had been so busy overseeing many plans regarding the taming of the Rift. Her and the human Petré were last seen heading into the halls of travel. He knew Petré was experiencing many emotional upsets and he was sure that if anyone could help him through these it would be his daughter. So he had been prepared to allow them some time together. But now that time was longer than he expected, although he admitted to himself he did not know how long he had expected them to be away from the star ship. He hoped that whatever the future now held she would understand that he would not ask anyone else or expose any other to the danger he must face, no it had to be him and him alone. After his conversation with Gh'Er'T the urgency of getting the Rift under control had greatly increased.

They had worked hard, the key stone had been placed above the Rift upon a stone bridge, when they were ready they would attempt to overcome the chaotic rift energy flow and focus it into a safe stream. That was where the Pnook came in. They were to assemble containment coils around the rift to focus the chaotic flow into the key stone. The coils would take energy from the Rift to power them, but once the key stone was charged it was hoped the coils would no longer be needed, the Entity would be relocated within the keystone as soon as the flow was stable. In this way it was hoped this would bring everything into balance. The task however was dangerous, manipulating so much arcane energy could have adverse effects so D'Annu'Elle had agreed to supervise the process by connecting with the Rift energy to ensure that the Entity remained safe and the process went smoothly, well as smoothly as possible. He would ask no one but himself to undertake such a dangerous task, not even Gh'Er'T, instead his chief mage was there as backup only.

D'Annu'Elle looked at the Pnook overseer. "I will ensure you and your workers safety master Pnook, just be sure that you get the coils in place as quickly as you can." He looked around at the Pnook flying machines hovering above. There were four of them, below each hung one containment coil. Already assembled on the ground, other machines hummed already thrumming with the energy of the Rift. These machines would house the coils once lowered into place, machines that would power the coils. He had been told once more that the whole process once started would take only minutes to complete. He wondered if he would last that long if something went wrong. He wished he had the chance to say something to his daughter. Wished that P'Arcerial were here with him. But then would she let him do this? Would she allow it? She would probably try and dissuade him, try and stop him. She would even probably volunteer herself in his place. But he knew she would not be strong enough, she did not have his experience, not yet.

He made a silent prayer to the Maker. Then he addressed someone else, a memory of someone he was very close to and had missed so much over the many years since she had passed over. He went to walk forward, but faltered. But then gathering his will he stood straight and continued to walk, as he did so he nodded towards the Pnook overseer, who turned to his workers and indicated that they should start.

The hum of the Pnook machines increased in intensity as they too began to move slowly forward but D'Annu'Elle did not hear them. He concentrated and probed the Rift gently with his mind. He was listening for something. He then heard it. But it was not the pleading voice that he had expected, not the frightened being that Gh'Er'T had reported as being trapped within the Rift. What he heard was insane laughing, a mocking of life itself.

Through the laughter he heard a voice. "Welcome strange one, long have I waited for this meeting. I have felt your kind before, you are strong, stronger than the humans I have ravaged in the past. You are not of this world, you do not belong here. Perhaps this is not your fight, yet you linger. But that is of no concern; I will take you and your kind along with what remains of humanity. I will cleanse this world of all biological life forms. You show the same illogical thoughts, the same weaknesses. What is it that causes such life forms to exhibit such a lack of control? You are all the same, you are all slaves to your emotions, but I can change that."

D'Annu'Elle did not reply, he was not expecting such as this, he tried to withdraw, but whatever he had connected to would not allow it. This thing was strong in the Rift, it understood how to control the Rift energy. Could this be the same Entity of which Gh'Er'T spoke?

The Rift entity spoke once again. "How does it feel to be included in the first? The first of my new children. You will be powerful; nothing will stand in your way. The marrying of your biological adaptations with my technology will be invincible. Tell me, what do you think of this great honour I bestow upon you?"

D'Annu'Elle ignored the question, he was still gathering arcane power from the Rift nearly all his concentration was on this one act.

The Entity felt it to, felt the pull on the Rift, it scowled. Its voice grew deeper and it rasped in hatred, "you seek to resist me! Then first I'm afraid you must learn a lesson."

At these words D'Annu'Elle released the power he had gathered, it flowed through him like a waterfall. In response, he felt the entity also release power. It struck him with the force of a sledge hammer. All the time laughter sounded in his ears.

The Pnook overseer kept glancing nervously towards D'Annu'Elle, the T'Iea sunk to his knees, something was wrong. The overseer knew they had to be quick, he turned all his attention to directing his workers and the flying machines lowering the coils. Thankfully the final coil was being positioned, the other three were already guided into their places ready to connect with the machines on the ground.

D'Annu'Elle was beginning to feel drained, the power he had accumulated had almost been spent shielding himself from the increasing power that was being directed at him. He now understood what the Entity was doing. It had not attacked with its full power at all. It was playing with him, enjoying his anguish. It had limitless power at its disposal, it was inside the Rift, he on the other hand must direct the power in the Rift, store it before he could use it. He had a bowl he must refill, the Entity on the other hand had a continual flow like a river. Dare he try and draw more? That would redirect some of his energies, perhaps lay him open for a final fatal attack. He knew then he would die. He would not survive, he was being forced to use all the power to keep the Entity's attack at bay. He would never be able to overcome this. He became resigned, he would use all the power and more. Even his own life force if necessary. He knew somehow it would be.

He felt his heart falter, the pain grew, he tried not to let it distract him. He prayed that the Pnook were doing well, but his sight had failed along with other senses. His heart complained more, the pain in his chest grew suddenly until it filled him. He cried out, but shut his mouth forcefully; he could not afford to waste so much precious energy.

The Pnook almost had it, all they needed was a few more seconds. Several Pnook on the ground started to unravel the supply cables that would power their devices. Then one, two, three, were lowered carefully into the Rift, the transducers on each end of the cable started to convert the energy from the Rift to feed the coils. The final transducer cable was being lowered by one Pnook engineer over the far side of the Rift. An arrow shot out from somewhere clear across the Rift and stuck the Pnook engineer in the shoulder, he dropped the cable and fell to the ground. More arrows flew and more Pnook died before they could move or take cover. This was so unexpected they had been taken completely by surprise, there was chaos amongst the Pnook engineers. Then the T'Iea guards that surrounded the Rift attacked the Pnook also, the small men were slain without mercy or second thought. The Pnook controlling the lowering of the coils in their flying machines at least were safe, they gasped in shock at the appalling slaughter going on beneath them, but they did not waiver, the coils were placed in their receptacles in the convertors around the Rift. The three that had power hummed into life.

D'Annu'Elle remained oblivious to the attack around him. Suddenly he felt fear, a great fear, why wasn't the Pnook machinery having an effect, what were they doing, why were they delaying.

Gh'Er'T strode through his soldiers he looked with distain at the many Pnook bodies that lay around the Rift. He prodded one with the toe of his boot, the Pnook did not move, well not surprising really as an arrow protruded from his neck, much blood had soaked the rock surrounding the body. He turned his attention to the lone T'Iea, D'Annu'Elle still on his knees writhed back and forth as if in great pain. A T'Iea archer raised a bow and notched an arrow, but before he could take aim and shoot Gh'Er'T grasped his arm and stopped him. "Wait brother, that is my privilege."

The soldier lowered his weapon in response to the order.

Gh'Er'T walked slowly over to where D'Annu'Elle knelt in pain before the Rift. He had seen enough he withdrew a long dagger from within his robes. He bent down by the side of D'Annu'Elle. "Well my old master. Do you feel it? Do you feel the power within, the irresistible forces that prevail? It is the true master you know. The Entity will lead us to great things, we will master the world, we will be obeyed in all things, the T'Iea will prevail and be dominant over these pitiful humans, and also over the other elder races. They will all come to live in this world, our world. We will control the world and them. He looked deeply at D'Annu'Elle, the pain on his face the blood running out of his ears. "It is a shame you will not be there to see our success, but some are not destined for greatness it seems. Farewell my old master, may you rest in peace." He gently placed the point of the dagger at the base of D'Annu'Elle's neck, he lifted the blades handle until it rested vertically above the spine. He stood and placed both palms onto the hilt of the dagger. Then he gathered all his strength and pushed downwards. The blade slid down through the bone severing D'Annu'Elle's spinal cord.

D'Annu'Elle gasped, he was unable to breath any longer, his whole body hurt, he was unsure what pained him the most. The entity laughed in glee. D'Annu'Elle's vision failed and all went black as his power failed. Such a darkness he had never known before, a darkness born of evil. A darkness where even the Maker would not go, could not go. He saw a creature, a dark being, it stared at him and walked in a lithe manner, stalked him. But then a bright light shone and it grew closer. A woman appeared before him, a T'Iea all in white. Her eyes shone brilliantly, her long auburn hair swayed in a warm breeze, her radiant smile beckoned to him. He recognised her immediately but could not call out her name as tears fell from his eyes. He was afraid she had not seen him, but her jade green eyes, those same wonderful eyes he had fallen in love with so many years ago now shone as they looked towards him. She reached out, grasped his hand, lifted it to her lips and kissed it. All pain stopped. He realised he lay upon the ground, although he could not see or feel it. She lifted him effortlessly and held him in her arms. It felt wonderful. He felt the embrace as if it filled his very soul. Over her shoulder he saw the creature once more, a hideous smile upon a hideous distorted face. It was the entity, he knew it. He cried out in warning, "L'Arhn'E lookout." But he could not, would not move from his wife's embrace.

The Entity laughed, a clawed hand, the skin dry and flacking, hideously gnarled with blackened and broken nails reached out towards them both. "Do you like this form?" The hideous mouth opened showing a forked tongue, that curled and writhed as if it sought to taste them. Burning eyes shone like hot coals from a forge radiating a deep malicious intent. Course animal hair grew around those eyes and down the long muzzle. Curled horns upon the head dripped blood from their tips. The tongue licked along blackened and cracked lips and yellow fangs also dripped blood. The face contorted into a grimace and then a cackling laugh. "I thought you may like this form, I believe the humans I tormented imagined me as looking something like this. Some nameless fear from their past, something they once feared more than anything. At least that is what I found from the ones I took the time to look within as they were being subjugated into my service." The creature opened its mouth and shook its head. "Human kind are such an imaginative race. They always seek to give physical form to all their woes, they always seek to place the blame upon something other than themselves."

D'Annu'Elle looked on in horror, flames seemed to lick around the gnarled and grasping hand as it came ever closer. He managed to make a sound, just a sort of cry of horror.

He heard L'Arhn'E's voice close to his ear whisper. "Be at peace my love, the Maker will not allow it to harm us. It is not real, it has no substance, other than in your mind. Only if you believe it to be real will it be so. It is theatre my love, nothing more. It cannot harm you."

D'Annu'Elle closed his eyes, ecstatic happiness flowed through him at the sound of L'Arhn'E's voice. Somehow he knew she was right, trusted in her without question. He ignored the entity, it was more important to share this moment of reunited joy with the one he loved once again. D'Annu'Elle laughed as the entity growled.

The entity screamed at them, "how dare you turn from me! Look at me, I am your master, how dare you turn your backs on me. You will come back. You will bow before me or I will create such pain within you that you will beg me for mercy and even death."

Gh'Er'T looked down upon the body of the T'Iea as it lay upon the dirt, it was drawn up in a foetal position, to his surprise a deep peace showed upon the face of his former master. Gh'Er'T knew D'Annu'Elle was dead. Perhaps his death was a release. He turned to see his commander, "they are all dead sir. Gh'Er'T smiled and nodded, he turned to walk up the stone bridge that led to the key stone above the Rift. So his plans had all come to fruition, he had stopped the Pnook, the Rift was his and his masters, no one stood in their way. He let the energy flow around him and through him and immediately felt his masters presence.

D'Annu'Elle felt L'Arhn'E release him from her embrace. He panicked; he did not want to lose her again.

She smiled at him, held out her hand and beckoned. "It's alright D'Anny, come. We are together again now and forever. Come I have so much to show you, many to introduce you to, old friends and new. She took his hand, kissed him on the brow. Come, you are going on an adventure like no other." She smiled broadly and gave the familiar giggle he loved to hear. "You will love it D'Anny. Come there are many that have missed you these past ages, come they are awaiting in the halls of the Maker."

The Entity tried to follow them, it shouted obscenities. But they were going where it could not follow. It did not understand, could not understand. But it now had a minion to command. The one called Gh'Er'T had successfully stopped the others from tampering with the Rift energy. Gh'Er'T's form stood by the side of the entity as it cried out, "go, don't let them escape. KILL THEM!"

D'Annu'Elle felt the presence of a another now standing next to the hideous spectre of the Entity. He looked at Gh'Er'T in fear, he realised now what his old comrade had done. He took L'Arhn'E's other hand and pointed at the T'Iea mage. She showed no concern, Gh'Er'T directed a blast of energy at them. L'Arhn'E moved D'Annu'Elle out of the way, the energy struck her midriff, but nothing happened it passed right through her. Completely unconcerned, L'Arhn'E thrust another energy stream back. It struck the stream coming from Gh'Er'T and without any difficulty pushed it back. Almost instantaneously the two energy streams struck Gh'Er'T full in the chest like a hammer blow, he was flung backwards and disappeared from within the Rift. D'Annu'Elle turned in relief and gathering L'Arhn'E to him he kissed her fully upon her lips, she responded by returning his tight embrace. "you should be dead, that arcane blast should have cut you in two?"

L'Arhn'E giggled, "but D'Anny you forget, I am already dead!"

For some reason he found her words amusing, he still laughed as he felt warm sand beneath his feet. A cool breeze blew in from the blue ocean and green trees bedecked with colourful blossom grew beyond where the sand met the swaying grasses beneath their branches. A brilliant light shone all around from a rich blue sky as he was led across the sand and into the trees. He stopped and took in a deep breath; the fragrances of this place were like nothing he had ever smelt before, his very soul soured as all his senses seemed to grow. He suddenly realised everything he had struggled with. All was released from him. All worries, concerns and anxieties diminished into nothing. At the same time all happiness, love and joy increased within him until all he could do was laugh in such ecstasy. But one thing remained one question upon his lips. "What ......what about P'Arcerial?

"Do not fear for our daughter D'Anny, she has her own path, one she still must walk, one that may yet change the world. Do not fear for her, she is safe. The Maker protects her and ...... her unborn child."

D'Annu'Elle smiled, he was happy, he was elated. Something far better than he ever thought possible had happened. "So, my love we are to become grandparents?"

His wife giggled and held him close, "yes D'Anny. We shall be blessed with a granddaughter, she will be steadfast and honourable, the Maker will have much presence within her and she will be strong of will and of endeavour. She will have a great destiny, she will shape all those around her, those of all races. You will see, she will make us very proud D'Anny, of that I am sure."

The Pnook engineer came round, pain shot across the top of his chest from where the arrow stuck out from his shoulder. He raised himself carefully upon his elbow, he almost cried out as the arrow head scraped across his shoulder blade and reaching the edge of the bone thrust out through his back, blood pulsed from the entrance wound and now from his back where the arrow had now exited. He wanted to cough, spit out the blood that was flowing into his mouth, but he didn't want to make a noise and attract the attentions of the cursed T'Iea soldiers that were gathering across the far side of the Rift. So he just let the blood run from his mouth in a pulsating stream as he tried to kneel. His heart faltered and his legs gave way. He allowed himself a few precious seconds to recover, he knew that if he fell onto the ground once again he would not have the life left in him to try again. He made himself wait, looked around at the T'Iea, they had all strolled across to where the one they called Gh'Er'T stood. The dizziness subsided somewhat, he pulled his shaking legs across the ground until he was nearly at his goal. He reached out and touched the transducer cable. His hands were weakening as he tried to grasp the cable. He heard the twang of a long bow, heard the swish of the arrow as it sped towards his position. This was it then he had failed. But to his surprise no final pain came. Something struck his hand he saw a chunk of flesh explode from it and shoot away and over the edge of the Rift. With a sudden surge of strength, fuelled by his panic the Pnook engineer crawled to where the transducer cable waited to be dropped into the Rift. He grasped it with his good hand and slid his legs over the edge and let himself drop into the Rift all the while keeping a tight hold on the transducer cable. He fell thinking that the rest of him may as well join the back of his hand, somehow this amused him. Just before he entered the swirling mass a deep hum sounded above, a joyous sound to the Pnook, it was even louder than his own laughter, then his eyes went black and he knew no more.

All four coils hummed into harmonious synchronisation. Gh'Er'T lay upon the rock bridge beside the key stone, he was no longer in the Rift, his Master was nowhere to be seen. He couldn't move, his whole body felt numb except his head that throbbed with immense pain. He stared at his arm which was bent at an impossible angle, bones were obviously broken. His eyes focused on the Rift energy it narrowed and seemed to stand upright. Like a flash light beam it shot skyward and seemed to move around the keystone atop the bridge over the Rift. Eventually it seemed to stop when the key stone was at the very centre of the beam. The key stone became blacker than the deepest black, it shone as if its surface was highly polished or was covered in some luminescent oil. Gh'Er'T's last conscious thoughts were of hands grabbing him, wherever they touched his body pain shot through him, he was aware of being lifted and carried away. He hated D'Annu'Elle, he hated the Pnook, he hated the combined races. Most of all he hated the feeling of helplessness and being parted from the Master, not knowing for sure whether the Master was still there, still able to communicate. He didn't see the look of concern and anxiety upon the healers face as she placed her hands upon his brow and administered the sedative.

The entity felt the pull of the key stone, it tried to resist but found it couldn't overcome the flow of arcane energy flowing into the stone. It felt itself being dragged along, like a small boat tossed in a fast flowing river. The flow of energy was so great it started to corrupt its subroutines. Logical functions started to fail, its memory was being overwritten with garbled corruptions. It tried to reboot them but even its digital speed couldn't keep up with the task. It was shutting down bit by bit. Its memory was being corrupted. Soon its command code would be overwritten, it would be destroyed. It had no back up to recover from. It was helpless, for the first time in its existence it felt panic. Its thoughts pondered that it may have made a mistake, battling with the node that felt like Gh'Er'T, perhaps this node was there to help it? Perhaps it would now be safe if it had acted differently, been more amiable. Yet it had expected Gh'Er'T to have undertaken that role, the surprise of another had made it angry. But it was wasting valuable time, there was only one thing to do, it needed to remove itself from the corrupting power flowing around it. It let go and went with the flow. To its great relief it found something, a stable area, if only it could hang on and reach that place. It started to forget what it was doing, its consciousness was failing, it made one last ditch effort to remember as much as it could before its basic functions failed altogether.

## Chapter 39. The Capture of the Drones.

Even Borhran was surprised at the size of the portal he was able to erect in front of the Rift. The massive key stone focused the arcane energy funneling it like a lens focusing light waves. Having so much controllable energy available meant that he could expand the portal to unbelievable proportions. He looked at the great dark disk shimmering before him, he could glimpse the void beyond, it lay in darkness giving the portal an ominous look and feel. What still surprised him was that there was no sign of the Entity, he expected to encounter the terror, even though he had an agreement with it to create the portal. But there was nothing. Even the T'Iea Gh'Er'T was nowhere to be seen. He was pleased at his good fortune.

But his wonder was short lived, his attention was taken by the noise behind him, he turned and there were many drones coming in from all directions they halted before a single drone that had turned to face them. Borhran smiled, he knew that all the T'Iea hopes lay with that single drone. How thankful they had been when he told them that he could arrange their trap for them, gather all the drones together and entice them through a portal into a safe place. He savoured the irony that he had also created hope for the Entity as well with the same story, even Gh'Er'T had believed that the drones now went forth into the void for the benefit of his master. He laughed inwardly, the void they were flying into just wasn't the place either D'Annu'Elle or the Entity were expecting. He visibly rose puffing his chest out in pride.

Viruse repeated the signal that his drone carried, the one that could be traced unmistakably back to the Entity. The keeper Borhran had recorded the arcane signature by connecting with the entity at great personal risk. The Elf Gh'Er'T had converted the signature into the appropriate digital signal now Viruse had a call sign that all the drones would understand and obey. It told the Drones of how the Entity had entered the Rift, how they should enter the portal to be taken to a safe place, how it would send for them soon so that they could reengage the enemy and complete their task. There was nothing left to do now but watch. Viruse flew out of the way and he watched as the drones started to pass through the portal into the safety of the void beyond.

Borhran watched as the drone army passed through the portal. He dared to allow his mind to wander over his plans, he didn't think anyone or anything could read his mind at this point, his thoughts were his own, after all he was alone here since D'Annu'Elle had so easily been persuaded that Borhran was the one to oversee this task. All these drones carried vital biological parts, components that he could use himself for his own ends. It was a dangerous business, if the Entity ever discovered his subterfuge, or even if he was discovered by D'Annu'Elle his plans would fall to ruin along with him. He feared the Entity the most, only when the drone army was safely housed away in the void would the entity be helpless only then could the second part of his plans be initiated. D'Annu'Elle had agreed to the keystone, Borhran had Gh'Er'T to thank for that. All of their plans would also be put into force. Borhran almost laughed out loud, if only they knew that only his plans were the ones that would come to fruition, he, Borhran had fooled them all. Soon the Entity would be destroyed or at best trapped within the Rift and unable to communicate to this side of the Rift, unable to communicate with its drones and unable to stop Borhran's plans. He willed the drones to go quicker, only then could he sigh in relief.

One final thing was then needed, the last drone, the one that held the remains of the human mage Viruse, that would have to be destroyed. Viruse was the only link between them all, the only threat if left around to realise what Borhran had really done. Borhran could not risk Viruse being with the drones, the human mage was powerful and his presence would spell disaster. No it was better that particular drone be destroyed and prevented from undertaking any future actions that would stop Borhran. Borhran stared at the only drone remaining on this side of the portal. After flying in a circle presumably to satisfy itself that no more drones were left behind it to flew slowly towards the void.

Viruse entered the portal the journey was short and he flew through into the void that lay beyond. Many drones were here, some had already entered the alcoves that had been built to house them, he was the last. Suddenly pain shot through his mind, he felt the instability of the machine in which he flew even as it crashed to the rocky ground below. It was all quick, he didn't understand what was happening.

The last machine lay upon the rock, fiery sparks showered forth from several ruptured cables, a massive spear still embedded in its hull. Two Ognod soldiers bent to grasp the hull of the machine and they heaved upon its shattered form until they had managed to turn it over onto its back. One of the soldiers stepped back whilst the other held the drone in position. The soldier withdrew a massive blade from a scabbard that lay across his back. With muscles bulging in both arms he gripped the hilt and raised the sword vertically, then without hesitation and with a great war cry he plunged the blade into the underside of the drone. Metal screamed and bent as the blade sliced through the machines hull only stopping when it reached the dense rock on the other side. The Ognod twisted the blade back and forth widening the slash in the metal, then he withdrew it. He watched with interest as a dark red fluid flowed forth from the shattered hull and pooled over the rock. He wiped the blade on the leather armour he wore upon his arm, the leather already stained dark, a badge of his bravery and ferocity in battle, he sheathed his sword its job done.

## Chapter 40. Within the Heart of the Silo

Petré jerked awake. He frowned and chastised himself for falling asleep. He had meant to stay awake, but the gentle motion of the machine they were in had probably rocked him to sleep. What had awoken him he did not know. He felt groggy, a result of lack of any real sleep over the last few days. But he wasn't so tired still that he didn't notice that all movement had stopped. If the machine had reached its final destination then he needed to wake P'Arcerial from her meditation and they would need to be fully alert ready for whatever happened next, hopefully their escape. He gasped as he heaved himself up onto his elbows, sudden dizziness overcame him and he remembered that the air must be very rarefied of oxygen by now. He lay back or he would have had to fight to stay conscious. After closing his eyes and waiting he moved again, but this time much more cautiously. He was aware that they had to get out of here in the next few minutes or suffocate. P'Arcerial still leant against the wall of the chamber, her eyes closed, her breathing very shallow.

The machine began to move once more, a faint noise from outside indicated a sudden mechanical movement, Petré imagined a large steel door was moving, although whether it opened or closed he could not tell. But the temperature inside their prison began to rise noticeably and steadily. Petré had to force down a sudden feeling of panic. The suffocating environment along with the rising temperature made him feel increasingly uncomfortable. He tried to wake P'Arcerial, but she would not come out of her meditative state. This again added to his feeling of panic, was she dying, lying in an unconscious state before suffocation finally overcame her?

The machine stopped once more. A noise he had not heard before filtered through the hull of the machine, a muffled buzzing. Suddenly the machine seemed to tilt and everything within the chamber including them slid downwards. At the same time two doors in the rear end of the machine opened and all the rubbish and detritus they had sat with for so long started to pour through. Real panic now set in, he frantically looked around for something to grasp, something to stop his plummeting out of the rear end of the machine. But he could find nothing. His feet became trapped in the centre of the disappearing pile of rubbish. It was as if he stood in an hourglass trying to free his feet from the depression in the centre as the sand flowed through the restricting gap into the glass globe below. He was up to his waste now. He looked upwards towards P'Arcerial, she stirred awake from her trance-like state, her eyes stared at him a look of deep concern in them. Then he suddenly lost his footing and started to slide at an increased speed. Most of the rubbish had now left the machine, it was now his turn to tumble out along with what detritus remained. He looked down. Heat and dust irritated his eyes and for the first time he understood why. They were poised right above what appeared to be a furnace; a sea of red hot molten liquid lay directly below them, probably twenty or so metres below. He could feel the intense heat rising up from the bubbling and frothing mass. The material from the machine was splashing into the molten mass and disappearing beneath the slowly undulating surface. In panic Petré lifted both his arms high above his head as he slid out of the machine. Something brushed against his forearm and slid down to his wrist where it gripped him. His legs and lower body were now hanging outside the machine, he swung his legs frantically trying to gain some foothold, but there was nothing that he could place them upon. Sweat poured down his forehead and stung his eyes, he felt the soles of his boots heating up, if he had taken notice he would have seen them starting to smoulder. He looked up. P'Arcerial had somehow managed to wedge her legs and back across the gap made by the open doors and with one arm she held him tight, her other arm held tightly to some kind of metal bar that she had managed to wedge across the corners of the chamber. She was the only thing keeping him from falling out of the machine to a fiery and very instant death. She was gritting her teeth, it seemed that all her strength was concentrated on keeping their combined body weight from falling.

He wanted to scream, but the searing hot air rising from below burnt his throat and lungs. He smelt burning and realised that his hair was smouldering and the sweat and dirt from his clothing was beginning to steam. P'Arcerial was hanging on, his legs swung about below him, his trouser bottoms started to smoulder and he was experiencing a painful prickling through the soles of his boots. Finally the machine started to move, it must have felt that its hopper was now empty, thankfully it probably relied on time rather than any sensory message that it was now free of its load. It moved away from the furnace leaving its rear doors open, it tilted back to a horizontal position and walked slowly away. Petré didn't care where, just as long as it was away from the searing heat. They waited as the machine moved, the view of the red hot furnace being replaced by a grey metal floor. Once P'Arcerial was sure they were safe, she rather unceremoniously dropped Petré to the ground, he landed on his side with a thud that knocked the air from his lungs. But he still didn't care, he was soon gasping in great breaths of cool air, wonderfully breathable air. He started to cough violently as P'Arcerial dropped nimbly to the ground bedside him and remained there crouching like a stalking beast looking for its prey. She had one hand on the cool metal surface, the other holding her bow with an arrow already notched ready to be drawn and fired if necessary. She looked around them, her eyes darting from one place to another. The maintenance machine continued to move away, its rear doors suddenly snapped closed with a dull clang.

"Quickly Petré, stand. We must follow the machine back through the doors out of this chamber." P'Arcerial half pulled Petré to his feet and still coughing he was dragged stumbling after the maintenance machine, the still half melted soles of his boots making it difficult to walk as they adhered to the floor with every step. They crept through the steel doors that formed the only access into the furnace chamber hugging the machines rear legs closely.

Finally Petré sat leaning against the cold metal room of another dark chamber, his coughing had subsided somewhat but his lungs and throat still stung.

P'Arcerial looked him over and when she seemed satisfied with his condition she said, "we will rest here a while, I will go and see if I can find anything, some water would be good."

Petré was still in no condition to respond so he remained content to watch as P'Arcerial moved out of his field of vision and disappeared into the darkness of the chamber. The space felt large, he could not see much further than a few metres, but his senses told him this chamber was very big. Eventually many lights started to come on across the ceiling far above, he closed his eyes against the bright glare as each light illuminated proceeded by a loud banging noise as high power contactors connected, supplying electric current to each lamp in turn. When he could he stood slowly and looked around the vast chamber for P'Arcerial, but he could not see her anywhere. He made his way over large metallic grates set into the floor, warm air rose up from below and glimpses of flashing lights could be seen far below his feet through the grating. Once a bright light seemed to pass along the length of the grating, when he looked down he got a brief glimpse of shadowy things in the darkness. It seemed to him that he looked down from a terribly high building to the lighted streets of a city far, far below. He jumped off the grating as a feeling of vertigo started playing with his mind.

He staggered around for a while until he perceived a dim light shining through a doorway to one side of the vast chamber, thinking P'Arcerial had passed through the doorway he made his way across the floor and after peering beyond the threshold, walked in through the open door.

P'Arcerial was indeed inside the small room, she sat on a stool looking at a brightly lit screen set into one wall. She tried to read what was on the screen, she recognised the language and alphabet as human.

Petré came to stand behind her. He looked over her shoulder at what was written there. After a few minutes he indicated that he wished to sit on the stool. P'Arcerial stood and allowed him to do so. He touched the screen in several places reading what came up onto the screen each time. "This is the main control and power room of the Silo, it has been set into automated mode." He stroked one finger across the screen which changed each time he made the movement. It looked to P'Arcerial although he turned pages in a book. Some pages were just script, others had diagrams on them. Sometimes he would touch a particular part of a diagram and it would expand in size on the screen showing some part or other in greater detail. He seemed to know what he was doing as he made adjustments. "I have restarted the life support in some of the dormant sections so that we may safely walk through the Silo. He touched one corner of the screen and blackness appeared almost immediately followed by twenty or so lighted squares with words set within them. He stroked the screen once more a number of times until he found a page of squares that seemed to interest him. He selected one square that changed to a page of words once more. He read several consecutive pages, his face turned form an expression of concentration and interest to one of shock.

Petré sighed and looked crest fallen. "They have deserted the Silo. Everyone has gone. There are hand written notes here in the Silo's records, it seems someone left it here as an explanation as to why this Silo had been abandoned. He read a few more pages before relating to P'Arcerial what he had learned. "It describes how the people of this Silo had in years gone by semi-populated the surface." Petré grew very excited. "It seems they found a way, learnt how to survive out in the open desert. At first a few of them lived in the desert for a few weeks at a time, surviving with a mix of support from the Silo and self-preservation in the open desert. It seems that the periods of time spent out on the desert lengthened as successive generations of humans discovered how to survive out there. There is common mention of a teacher, one who seems to have led them in this venture and taught them much. The sometimes refer to this teacher as 'the alien'.

P'Arcerial did not understand the word, she asked Petré what it meant.

Petré looked at her and said, "alien is a description we give to a person or persons who are not from the same place as us, it is reference to a stranger. It was also used to describe theoretical beings that were supposed to have arrived on the world from the stars." He looked at her strangely before carrying on. "It seems that eventually many of the population opted to live in the open desert full time in preference to the Silo." He read further, "at first they had to stay close to the meadow for it was the only source of water. But as they learnt about the desert from this so called alien teacher and found new skills, they started to live a semi nomadic lifestyle, moving further and further into the desert to find supplies of food and water. The final entry tells of their intent to find other Silo's and persuade the inhabitants to do the same."

P'Arcerial asked, "does it give any dates, or indicate how long ago these accounts were written?"

Petré looked at her, wonder in his eyes, "yes it does. There is a date for each entry, the dates are further and further apart as the accounts go on, it is as if they returned to the Silo less and less as time went on." Petré skipped through the journal until he came to where the written account seemed to stop. "The final entry is dated some fifty years ago."

He looked at her once more still pointing at the page in front of him.

P'Arcerial, although she could not understand what was written there looked at Petré in surprise. "What did they eat I wonder and how did they find water?"

"That is not written here, at least not within the account I am reading. Perhaps this is described elsewhere though." Petré skipped backwards through the journal, reading odd passages here and there as he went. "The Silo, this Silo, was placed into an automated state, a mode that was non aggressive. The final entry does not say whether the former inhabitants of the Silo had ever, or indeed ever intended to return. In the end, I think that they perhaps they did not."

P'Arcerial smiled. "I wonder if they survived. I mean as nomads out on the desert. They must have learnt well, for we have not detected any living beings across this section of the desert."

Petré said in response, "well you wouldn't would you."

P'Arcerial looked at him with a questioning expression, "what do you mean we wouldn't?"

"What I mean is that any population living on the surface, out in the open desert, would have to hide from the hunter drones. They must have found a way of camouflaging themselves so well as not to be detectable. If the hunter drones can't detect them then I doubt that you could either?"

P'Arcerial smiled once again and nodded in understanding. But her look was returned by an expression of anger which had overcome Petré's features. "They have deserted this Silos; these places are our only means of defence against the machines and this one is now useless." He clenched his fists and breathed deeply. "There may be another reason why they have not been seen. Perhaps they cannot be detected because they are no longer there, perhaps they are all dead."

"No Petré, you do not know this. Perhaps your people are better off in the desert. At least they breath the free air once more. They are still able to fight and if they can also hide from the machines then they have a good chance for survival. Possibly an increased chance now that the drones hunt out the Silos and destroy them."

Petré started to pace up and down, he seemed to be unaware of P'Arcerial's presence, rather he argued with himself. "The cowards, they died in the desert, they were too afraid to stay in the Silo and fight to the last person."

"I am sure that is not the case, they must have discovered something, something we don't yet understand, they must have thought it was better to go back into the world rather than hide away down here. This teacher, this alien of whom you speak, if he or she led them to the surface surely they must have been sure they would all survive, otherwise why expend so much energy in teaching them?"

Petré was clearly in a highly agitated state, something had roused his anger. "What do you know? How do you know anything, you have not known the war as I have, you have not known the suffering, the death as I have. How can you have an opinion? You say you can help us, then give us your weapons, let us attack the machines drive, them back."

P'Arcerial found herself placing a hand on the pommel of her sword. There was darkness in Petré's features, a snarl upon his lips. His eyes burned into hers. He snorted and turned and walked away. After a few minutes she followed.

He felt alone, he also felt a hatred, a dislike for himself, he knew why he was angry, it was not because the people of this Silo had deserted their post. No, it was anger borne of jealousy, a deep rooted envy that the people here had found freedom in the world above, even if it was for only a short time. That was something the people from the Silo in which he lived in never did. He felt he could not face her, not whilst he felt such deep and destructive emotion. He had the knowledge to tell them, to persuade them, but he hadn't, he had been too scared of being discovered journeying up to the surface and he wanted to keep that to himself. Yet here in this Silo it had taken an alien, someone from outside to successfully undertake that same persuasion, to succeed where he had failed.

P'Arcerial grasped his arm tightly, she thought he might take himself from her, but he didn't instead he relaxed into her embrace and buried his head into her shoulder. His shoulders shook with emotion, he was crying. She held him close as they sunk down and knelt on the floor.

Later that night P'Arcerial lay awake, they had found sleeping quarters in another room that led from the small room off the main power hall. She listened to the rhythmic breathing beside her, felt the hand upon her hip. Was it a mistake coming here? Was she foolish to think that coming here would alleviate some of the pain that she knew Petré felt, perhaps negate some of his anger. It seemed that he had become more angry since being within the Silo, sometimes she felt that she wasn't wanted here, that she somehow had invaded part of his life that kept held remote and hidden. But she felt his love for her, felt the tenderness of his touch. Somehow she was sure that she could reach deep down within him and aid him in his recovery. He wanted recovery, of that she was certain, yet he also had old frustrations that lay just below the surface of his psyche. Motivations that no doubt had been inbred into his people over many hundreds of years. They understood things that she did not. They seemed to hang onto old grievances, old hurts. They seemed not to want to give them up, it seemed they somehow thrived on these thoughts, needed them to give them direction, needed these things to give their lives purpose. She understood it would be a long journey for them, even after the war, after the threat to their very survival had gone. Made even more difficult perhaps as they would not have an outlet to vent their anger. More generations were needed, more generations of man to distance themselves from all that they had known for so long.

She rolled over onto her back, his hand rested upon her naked belly. He sighed in his sleep. She felt within herself, felt that which he had placed there. Had she been rash? What would she do? Would she allow it to survive, to grow and prosper deep within the protection of her body? Would it be a selfish act? Perhaps it would, but somehow mankind needed generations free of the thoughts that they currently had, that was what was needed. She wanted to help, maybe she could start the process, all they needed was a strong leader, someone to bring them together once again. She thought of the alien mentioned in the accounts, who could that be? If she could discover the identity and work with them using the process the alien had already started then perhaps man had a chance.

She turned her head and looked at the sleeping face, she could see quite clearly in the dark, her T'Iea eyes allowed such vision in low light. She loved that face. In the peace of sleep it looked wholly different, she knew he was kind and good deep down, knew he would fight to save his people. So his gift to her would be her gift to his people, although they wouldn't ever know it. She remembered her reoccurring dream, the girl in the meadow struggling with the monster of evil intent. How the girl and the monster seemed to join. Suddenly something became clear in her mind, to her it seemed like the girl was the answer – the cure, the monster was a representation of humanity. P'Arcerial made up her mind, turned her head and looked at the ceiling high above. Perhaps someone that had blood ties to both races would be the catalyst that was needed, the link between two races that would bring sanity to the world. She closed her eyes and concentrated her attention within, she felt deep within herself and sought the two halves, the part that was her and the part from him. Finding them she allowed them to join together and sanctioned the union, allowed her body to accept his gift of life. But she placed a barrier, a safe wall around the union. She opened her eyes once more. There, it was done. No going back now, the Maker had accepted the union, to change her mind would now be impossible. When the time came she would release the barrier, the child would grow within, she had already instructed her body to create a daughter just like in her dream. She only prayed to the Maker that the girl would eventually be accepted by both her parent's peoples, prayed to the Maker to give the girl strength of mind, body and spirit. Somehow P'Arcerial knew deep down her daughter was going to need all those things in the long years of her life. Her daughter would have the blood of both races flowing through her veins, but she would not wholly be one or the other, she would be a misfit, a half-breed. At times this may mean much prejudice and pain, even being an outcast. But it would mean that she would have an understanding of both races, be connected by the blood to both. She would carry both the weaknesses and the strengths of both mankind and the T'Iea. P'Arcerial had a moments regret, what had she done? Was it really up to her to do this? She asked for her unborn daughters forgiveness. P'Arcerial cast aside the negative thoughts, what was done was done, now was the time to look toward the future, she would make her daughter strong, make her resilient. But for now she could only do one thing, she would keep the new life safe, keep it in stasis ready for more peaceful times, only then would she release the sleeping cells within her so that they could multiply in safety. Then once born, her daughter could grow in peace at least in her younger years before her coming of age, her R'Golea'Foed. P'Arcerial would keep her daughter's existence a secret, only known to herself. She sighed, she found herself once more struggling with this decision. Petré may never know his daughter, his allotted years of life coming to an end even before P'Arcerial released the embryo for natural growth. P'Arcerial felt a sadness, a tear fell down the side of her cheek, warm and wet. She looked across at the sleeping face beside her, she stroked the warm cheek and closed her eyes. Perhaps that would be the most selfish part of all. But then she came to a decision, he had given a gift freely, so would she. So she closed her eyes and gently probed outwards with her arcane signature, she found Petré's arcane signature and made a tiny adjustment. There, his time clock had been synchronised with that of the star ship. He would now live longer than any human before him. She hoped that he wouldn't see this as meddling, but accept it as it was meant as a gift. She would tell him, when the time was right.

But P'Arcerial drew in a deep breath, she felt sure of her decision, felt sure that she knew now what her reoccurring dream meant. The surety of that thought made her strong and returned her resolve. She was sure that the Maker was in this from the beginning, sure that he was exerting his gentle will in all this. He would continue to guide her; these thoughts gave her an inner warmth. She smiled in the dark and found herself trying to think of all the T'Iea female given names she had ever heard, it was comforting and distracted her from her current situation - until she finally drifted off to asleep.

## Chapter 41. Petré's Turmoil

The following morning Petré awoke. He felt the warmth of P'Arcerial's sleeping form next to him. He turned and laid one hand upon the warm skin. Then he moved closer and felt her hair brush across his face, relished the perfume of it. He whispered close to her ear, "I suppose we should tell your father that his only daughter is about to be married."

P'Arcerial did not respond.

"Well isn't that what you want? Wouldn't he wish it?"

Still no response but he noticed her shoulder shuddered. He felt that she was in a highly emotional state, in fact he was sure she was crying. He felt he had upset her. "Your father. He would want me to make an honest woman of you." Petré shrugged. "If you were human you would understand."

P'Arcerial turned so she faced him, she opened her eyes slowly, tears stained her cheeks. She must have been crying for some time because some had dried and left behind a dry salty trail. She wiped her eyes on the back of her hand and obviously struggled to overcome her emotions.

"I', I'm sorry. I didn't wish to upset you P'Arcerial. Forgive me if I hurt you."

P'Arcerial smiled shakily, she stroked the side of his face. But she seemed to relax and overcome her tears. She said with a shaky voice. "Ah so you mean because we have acknowledged our physical relationship you feel that we should make some kind of acknowledgement of our spiritual one? Show our intentions to others, obtain their approval perhaps?"

Petré smiled back at her. "I suppose that is the sort of thing I had in mind, yes."

P'Arcerial thought for a while before she spoke. She loved Petré that was for sure, but something held her back, something tugged at her thoughts, she found that she was slightly reticent at the thought of marriage. She was surprised that she had not perhaps jumped at the chance for marriage and Petré's obvious offer of commitment. Surprised that she found herself trying to find excuses not to commit herself. She did love Petré that was plain, she knew he loved her, but there was something that she did not want to acknowledge, something formed a barrier to that loves growth, she felt that marriage may not be something that either of them would be able to uphold with a full and unwavering commitment. Maybe it would come later, but both of them had other agendas that would get in the way. She tried to chastise herself, love should not be bound by external influences, yet it was not love that she had the problem with. She found herself trying to explain. "When T'Iea give themselves in such a way, it is for love. That pure love is given by each as a gift. That gift is not given lightly, neither is it to be set aside. In T'Iea terms we have given our commitment to each other already, because of the exchanging of gifts of love. Every one of my people would recognise that, including my father. He would see that we have made that commitment and he would rejoice in our union. That would be enough, that spiritual commitment. My people's traditions would no longer allow me to give myself spiritually or physically to anyone else, never to cast it aside. That commitment would outlast anything."

"So you would never give any emotional attachment to any other?"

"It would be very unusual for me to do so. That original commitment would live on." I have made my spiritual and physical commitment before the Maker, he has consented. To break such a commitment would make me an empty shell, I would become an outcast from my people. In my culture only one thing now can break such a bond and separate us whatever happens. But that would be a temporary physical separation only."

Petré looked at the floor, "my death?"

P'Arcerial looked at him, that was no longer a problem. Petré would not die, he would live on. She thought about telling him, but somehow she thought better of it. She lent upon one elbow and touched his shoulder tenderly and said instead, "or mine."

Petré laughed, "well it is more than likely to be mine. You and your kind will live on forever, I, on the other hand, will grow old, I will wither and die. You can look forward to many of my lifespans. It is likely that you will get that second chance."

Perhaps she should bury her own thinking, sacrifice her own selfish thoughts, perhaps she owed him that. "We can neither of us alter what we are, why should we worry about it? It is our love that is of importance." She became deep in thought, what she was thinking she was afraid to ask, not knowing how he would react, even though she had already made it so. She decided to make an offer in the hope that he would agree. "There are ways around your mortality. If you come to live in the sanctuary, always linked with the star ship, time would move differently for you there as it does for all the elder races. We could both live there almost indefinitely." Then as if she felt the need to explain she said, "that is why I appear to have immortality; I exist within the time of the star ship, not the time of this world. As long as the link remains and the star ship stays linked to me through the voids I remain linked to its time clock."

Petré remembered what Borhran the keeper had said, he had already explained that time moved differently within the star ship and the places that it supported. This was because of the need to adjust time for the great journeys and vast distances the star ship made. He had to admit it did excite him, the prospect of immortality did have an attraction. But he would be alienated from his people, he would live on whilst his people came and went. He would be the only one, the only man, he would be locked in a prison, all be it a beautiful one. It was a situation akin to the Silo, a false place, an isolated place away from the true beauty of the world. He felt anger rising in his heart, anger towards the T'Iea, anger towards P'Arcerial even. She had captured him, she had fooled him, used her sexuality to ensnare him, had made him her prisoner as surely as the day she had taken him out of his world.

He turned away from her, unable to look into those blue eyes of hers. "So marriage is accompanied by the necessity for me to become an outcast from my world? But can I change somehow, become linked to the time of the star ship, even though I walk in the world as you do?"

She looked at his back with sadness in her eyes. She had probably made a huge mistake, but it was done. She would have told him but something else now plagued her mind. Some other loss was now in the forefront of her being, that was why she had been crying earlier. She thought about revealing her loss to him, but couldn't face telling Petré the truth, in fact something told her not to. So instead she said. "At the moment that is not possible Petré, I am sorry. Once human kind has agreed to join us, entered into the combined races then yes, like the other races they too would be able to join in many ways, have their racial signature written into the annals of the star ship, become one of the combined races and be linked to it across space and time, but until that happens then you will remain bound by your current time, the time of your world. The only way is to live on the star ship and be temporarily linked to its time." Then when no response was made she said thought to enhance the invitation in the hope he would agree, "you know you would be most welcome."

Petré thought for a while, he struggled with his thoughts. But then something dawned on him, something he had learned from Borhran. "But if I lived there time would pass rapidly in this world. If I ever came back it would be a very different place, a place perhaps that I would not recognise." He turned back and looked at P'Arcerial, she was beautiful, she looked sorrowful, as if she knew the inner turmoil he experienced. His heart softened, he knew he loved her, knew he was captivated, lived under her spell. Yet other things burned in his heart, things he could not forget so easily. Just because they had made some kind of commitment to each other did not take away the fact that he had other desires to fulfil, other priorities. He had to get away, think for a while, get out of here and do things. He rose, put on his clothes and said, "I'm sorry P'Arcerial, I have to be on my own for a while, you understand? Don't you?"

She did not answer immediately; rather she just acknowledged his thoughts with a gesture of her shoulders and eyes. Yes, she would allow him time, after all time was one thing she had plenty of. Also it would be good to have time to herself to reflect on a recent event that she had felt though her signature. Her father she was sure had died. Why and how she did not know, but there was a gap in her being that had not been there before, a gap that could only be filled with her father's now missing signature. Always she could feel those close to her through the arcane that linked across the voids and beyond, she would be able to feel her father's presence even if he were many light years away on the star ship. But this felt like the gap left behind when her mother passed on, but at least when that happened she had her father. So now she was on her own. Well not entirely, she had Petré and eventually she would have her daughter. She to needed time to ponder things, needed to grieve and come to terms with this loss. She smiled at Petré and said, "yes. Of course. I will be ok, after all there is no other in the Silo."

## Chapter 42. Burning Bridges.

Borhran breathed in deeply as if to savour the air within the star ship for the last time. It had been his home all his life, and he was about to give all that up, well at least temporarily. If his plans all worked out then he would be back, but this time not as navigator, no, this time he would be commander of the star ship and all it contained. He drew his shoulders up, there was no time for sentiment now, this was the start of something big, the start of events that would see all his ambitions realised. At last he would be set upon the path towards the position he deserved, a place where his intellect would be appreciated.

So this was it then. This last journey through this last portal. There would be no turning back, his plans would be initiated. All the designs Borhran had made, all the hard work to persuade those that followed him, all this would now finally come to fruition. After today his name would most probably be outlawed in this place. His actions would most likely go down in history as the greatest of crimes against the combined races. He smiled broadly as he thought 'and I haven't even started yet!' So be it then, thanks to the T'Iea scouts the portal existed, it only led to the meadow above the Silo not into the Silo itself but he was sure he had been right in judging the humans intent. Niggling doubt come into his mind, it could be possible that he and his followers would be stuck upon the meadow nowhere to go and the only recourse to be rescued by the very people he sought to deceive. He imagined the conversation, the excuses of why he and a hundred others, along with their machines and weapons had been marooned in that place. He shivered that was not a situation he relished trying to explain away to the governing council. But no, he was sure that Petré would play his part, sure that the human wanted this opportunity to help his people. Borhran was sure the risk was minimal, sure that once Petré was inside the Silo, deep inside, then the human would do what he was asked, he would drop the proximity stone and Borhran would detect it. Then from the meadow Borhran could open a new portal that linked to the proximity stone and he and his followers would be inside, safe from detection and able to undertake the next stage in his plans.

While he waited Borhran pondered the followers he had managed to gather. The Grûndén had been easy enough to persuade, he had promised them any minerals and gems that they found would be there's to keep. After all he had no use for such trinkets, it was an age-old relationship between the keepers and the Grûndén, all he was doing was continuing it. The Pnook he thought he may have more difficulty with, that was until he played upon their insatiable thirst for technology. They couldn't resist once he had persuaded them that the silo contained new technologies ready for the Pnook to discover, exploit and develop, they were hooked. The Ognods, well they were easy he had promised them a good fight!

The halls of passage were empty at the moment, no patrols were going in and out, the drone that they had captured had also gone. There was also a distraction in that much of the combined races external activities cantered on the work they were undertaking taming the Rift Gh'Er'T had made sure a lot of people were tied up there. The halls of passage were empty as a result. But even so Borhran was a little anxious to be on his way. Discovery was minimal but he didn't want to invite fate. So he turned to face the throng of people that had been filing into the portal hall behind him following the two lovers departure. It had been a couple of hours since they had gone, that should have given them enough time to leave the meadow and be well down the stair way of the Cistern. So Borhran turned to the assembled people. "Come gentlemen, we have much work to do, let the fun begin." He beckoned them forward and they went through one by one to wait in the meadow. Borhran was the last to enter; he took one lingering look around the portal hall in the star ship, shrugged and was gone. The portal closed behind him.

Borhran came through the portal into the flower meadow beneath the T'Iea shroud that hid this valley from the prying eyes of the machines of war. This was all too easy; the shroud not only hid them from the drones but also from other prying eyes including the T'Iea themselves. He had to thank the T'Iea once again for providing such conveniences as this. As the remainder of his followers came through the portal he walked towards the cistern that lay in the centre of the valley. He thought once again about the human Petré, would he continue to uphold his part in this? Once more doubts entered his mind, if Petré did not play his part then Borhran had made a grave mistake, he turned to watch as his followers played out their part in his plan, temporary accommodation was set up, the Grûndén soldiers walked in military precision outwards towards the valley wall to set up a perimeter, Pnook engineers went with them carrying various military hardware most of which Borhran did not have a clue what function they performed, but he trusted that they did. But he was reminded how temporary all this was supposed to be, if it had to become more permanent, well, he did not have the luxury of a contingency plan. He smiled a half-hearted expression, no, he couldn't think like that. One thing he was sure of was the passion in the young humans heart, the passion to rescue his people from certain doom and the prospect of extinction, Petré had taken the proximity stone without hesitation and Borhran had willingly given it to him. Now all the human had to do was activate it and the Silo and all it contained would be Borhran's, to do with as he pleased.

But his attentions were taken elsewhere for he had reached the lake, he stood upon the edge of the cistern looking out over the blue waters. He imagined the power and size of the Silo that he knew lay below his feet, the only physical entrance far down in the light-less depths of the waters below. What exactly awaited him he did not know for sure, he only had the emotional reports and child-like descriptions told him by the human. He smiled, so unlike him to base so much upon so little, was he being a little irresponsible? No, he was sure that the technology he had with him would be able to overcome anything the Silo could put in their way. He looked at the company of Ognods he had with him. They looked like they were spoiling for a fight. He drew encouragement from the fact that his feelings told him to take the risk, to trust the human, his smile broadened, perhaps he was learning to trust in fate, or some other overarching form of control? Bah, was he getting soft? Perhaps he had been resting for too long, spent too much time away from the navigator's chair, perhaps he was bored? All he had to do now was wait. Give the two lovers time to get far enough inside the Silo and for Petré to activate the proximity stone. Then he wouldn't be bored, he wouldn't have - the time.

## Chapter 43. Into the Silo

Petré had wandered the halls of the Silo for a day or so. At first he had wanted the solitude, time to think on his own, but as he walked through the halls and rooms his thoughts returned more and more to the fate of his people and to those who at one time lived in this Silo. His priority had to be the salvation of his kind. Slowly he withdrew his hand from out of his pocket. He looked down at his closed fist before he slowly opened his fingers. He looked long and hard at what lay in the palm of his hand. This had all seemed such a good idea back there in the star ship. Borhran had explained everything to him in detail, it sounded simple and promised swift results, positive moves to aid his cause. His head told him this would be the best path, yet he could not deny the beating of his heart and the alternative. Borhran was so much more active, clear about his offer, he promised positive action and quick results, he seemed to understand Petré's desires so much better. He understood the urgency, the fact that the Silos were being destroyed; all that remained of his people were being systematically exterminated. They desperately needed aid, right now, they needed an army to protect them. The T'Iea on the other hand nodded in understanding yet unlike Borhran they did not acknowledge the urgency or the immediate need. Why should they? After all they had limitless time to ponder things over, they didn't care how many generations of his people died before things were once more put to rights.

Well with Borhran he would show them, he would save his people, what remained of them, and he would do it now. Further delay was futile. Borhran had conscripted aid from many others within the combined races that were willing to help him. Borhran and his sympathisers had already drawn up the rudimentary designs for the weaponry that Petré needed. Petré had promised to supply the mechanical soldiers within the Silo, those that had been designed for this purpose, the only ones that had a chance to withstand and even survive the onslaught presented by the drones, and being mechanical would not present the drones with an opportunity to fulfil the desire to salvage more human parts. Borhran had told of the manufacture of great flying machines that could transport this mechanised army to any location in the world. Take the battle home to the drones for once. Even to their very control centre. Borhran's great flying machines required little or no humanoid intervention to do their task. He had promised that Petré could take the offensive initiative from the drones, place them on the defensive, he could strike them hard where it mattered, bring the war home to them for the first time in perhaps centuries. Borhran had technology that could transform the desert sands into the required metals and other materials required. All Petré had to do was to provide a place, a secret place in which all this production could go on in secret and unhindered. Borhran would provide the expertise to carve out the necessary modifications to the Silo to house all of this activity and to build the weapons systems they would need. The Silo provided the ideal place. He laughed at the irony, the T'Iea had helped him after all, they had saved this Silo. Admittedly for other reasons but never the less the Silo and its fate was now where it should be, in his hands, in the hands of his people.

It had all seemed so simple, so right back there on the star ship talking to Borhran, yet now, here in the Silo, he had become wary, now when it came to it he hesitated. His love for P'Arcerial had grown out of all proportion, he didn't want to leave her, couldn't leave her, there was something about her and her people, an assurance, a feeling of sincerity, something that Borhran did not project. He was no longer sure what he thought of the Keeper Borhran, he was no longer sure he trusted him. Yet what else could he do now.

"Just release it from the box," was all the Borhran had said.

Yet Petré knew that once that simple act was done he ran the risk of losing the Silo once again. But this time to a potentially far more powerful overseer. If he allowed Borhran to fulfil his desires and build this military force, allow Borhran to be in command of such an invincible army, what would become of him? Petré closed his eyes, he hadn't negotiated that part. But he brought his clenched fist up to touch his lips, he still had a choice, but it was really no choice at all. Borhran was a good listener, one who did not bow to distraction, perhaps it would be good to have someone here to talk to other than someone close to him like P'Arcerial? Yes, maybe an independent mind, someone who's thoughts weren't clouded by such emotional ties. He opened his palm and looked at the little golden box. It was covered in ornate markings, he didn't have a clue as to their meaning, didn't even know if they had a meaning, it was an alien thing, a strange thing, not from his culture, not even from his world. Yet he felt a reluctance to do this simple act, something stopped him, pulled at him not to do this. It was the T'Iea, P'Arcerial's people, they were so 'correct', but they were also alien. Even so very different in many ways to the ways of the Keepers, yet it was the Keepers not the T'Iea that offered him immediate help, offered him the most positive solution to the plight of his own kind. That was it then, he couldn't delay any longer, he had to take the risk. He sprang the lid on the golden box, it made a click. Inside sat the black shiny stone that the Keepers valued so much. He tilted his hand slowly. The jet-black stone dropped from the box and even though it was no more than ten millimetres in diameter it landed with a heavy thud upon the floor, it did not even bounce, it was as if he had dropped a heavy boulder. It just landed there, just lay there as if some unseen hand had grasped it, caught it in a tight hold. The echo of the loud thudding sound resounded around the hall. Petré let out his breath.

A dark circular hole appeared in front of the far wall, it grew in size until it was about the height of a man. He felt the pull of the portal, he could feel the chill of it.

Then suddenly a figure, cloaked and hooded stepped through. Following this figure came a couple of others, P'Arcerial recognised these as Grûndén. But these were soldiers, not miners, they had all the gear of battle about them although they did not carry drawn weapons. The figure who had first stepped through withdrew the hood from over its head.

"Greetings my friend, I am glad you saw fit to use the stone." Borhran spoke but he didn't look at the Petré, his eyes scanned around as if he sort something.

He smiled, "The T'Iea girl, is she not with you?" He didn't wait for an answer, he gestured at a group of heavily armed Grûndén and said. "Find her, and quickly. Imprison her before she can do anything to stop us, whatever happens do not allow her to return to the star ship."

Petré went to walk forward; he was shouting incoherently; his objections were focussed upon the obvious hostility towards P'Arcerial. It had all happened so quickly. He stopped dead as he felt a prickling pressure on the front of his neck. Another of the Grûndén had a vicious looking battle-axe pressed against his throat.

There was a delay of some minutes then Petré watched as many more Grûndén and the shorter little people they called the Pnook came through the portal, quite a crowd gathered in the room they were in. Many of them carried or pushed cradles in which was housed much gear.

Borhran sighed and bowed, "please accept my hospitality for a while my young human friend whilst I sort some business out elsewhere. I promise your loved one will not be harmed, after all let us just say she is insurance for your continued aid?"

I will return for you when I have concluded my business." At this he beckoned to the now large and still growing crowd of beings that had entered the hall, they followed him from the chamber out into the ancient human city within the Silo.

The Grûndén, the one with the axe pressed to Petré's throat, lowered his weapon and stood against the wall propping the shaft of the axe in both palms twisting it deftly as if it weighed no more than a walking stick. He had a sneer upon his lips as his bright eyes stared unblinking at Petré. "I suggest ye makes y'self comfy laddie, ye be awaitin' here 'till the ol'one be a'returnin'".

But to Petré's surprise the Grûndén didn't wait with him, he backed towards the still open door, he kept the war axe at the ready, a smile on his lips seemed to invite Petré to follow as he spun the haft of the axe in his hands like a favourite toy. Petré focussed on those eyes until the Grûndén soldier was gone, stepping through the doorway after the last of the newcomers went through. Petré dropped to the floor, sudden realisations where springing into his mind. He had been fooled all along after all. Had his biggest fears just come to fruition? Had Borhran just used him to gain access to the Silo so that the Keeper could ignore the pact they made and surge ahead with his own ends?

Petré felt alone, more alone than at any time during his life. His thoughts were dark, he chastised himself for getting P'Arcerial into this. He couldn't believe his own naivety at falling for Borhran's subterfuge even if he did suspect Borhran may not be all he seemed. He wondered at the keeper's true intentions. He could do nothing, not at the moment, Borhran had the choice of life and death over P'Arcerial, Petré was in no doubt that Borhran would not hesitate to kill her if he had to. He tried to forget his woes and started to look around at his surroundings. Here, his own kind had lived once, yet they had deserted this place. Gone to live out in the desert. Why he still did not understand. Now here in his isolation and unable to influence any events that may now transpire because of his foolishness, the place felt really, really empty. The atmosphere felt heavy. All this matched the feeling of emptiness and dread in his heart.

## Chapter 44. The Building of the Leviathans

Borhran surveyed the enormous hall in which he stood. Everywhere he looked, much toil was going on. He smiled, progress was on schedule and the machines were being built exactly as he wished. He leant both palms upon the metal handrail in front of him and looked over the side. The Pnook were like ants scurrying around the frame of the machine. The decks were laid out and much of the equipment had already been installed within. The Pnook had started to install the hull plates the day before and already he could picture the sleek and final appearance of the machine. As he watched a portal opened at the far end of the chamber and through it came several Grûndén. They had with them a low truck full of a sandy coloured rock they had dug out whilst making the adjacent hall where the next machine would be built. Borhran knew that this rock, once refined and then mixed with a special mineral the Grûndén miners found in the voids, would form the hull plates of the machine. The allow was almost totally indestructible if combined in the right quantities. He had no clue about the details, but the Grûndén smiths did, that was the important part. The Grûndén he had persuaded manufactured the material and the plates exactly to specification. Between them, the Grûndén and the Pnook designers would provide him with an indestructible flying force that none would be able to withstand. Combined with his enhanced army able to be deployed anywhere in this world and beyond, well, who could resist him? No one could, not even the T'Iea.

He took in a deep breath. He found he was anxious for the real part of his plans to come to fruition. He yearned for the day when he could fly at least one of these machines out into the desert and from there to his home where he would 'persuade' his people that he was the hope for their future. Then if they did not comply he would tighten the screw and force them to believe.

Borhran frowned, as long as his secret remained secure, at least until he had one or two of these machines operational, he was safe. He had gone too far down this path now to turn back or be discovered, everything was reliant now on the completion of their work. The human Petré was easy to persuade, Borhran had given him hope, promised the salvation of his race. He wanted to keep the human on his side, having one of their number to speak on Borhran's behalf would be a distinct advantage, not a necessary one, but at least it may smooth the passage a little when the time came for Borhran to take up his rightful place as their leader. The only problem was that Petré came with the added hindrance of the T'Iea P'Arcerial, the daughter of the T'Iea leader. Borhran could not deal with the daughter, at least not yet. To remove her would mean alienating Petré and it would certainly upset the father. Borhran was in turmoil and he didn't like it. This part of his plan had become messy, he didn't like that he couldn't control it, the events surrounding it he could not influence, at least not for the better. He couldn't get rid of the daughter, neither could he send her back to the star ship. Having her remained dangerous, if the father ever found out or suspected anything before he was able to defend the Silo, his plans may well come to a quick and final halt. He consoled himself with the knowledge that he was close.

Yet something else nagged at his mind. The daughter P'Arcerial was beautiful, she had an attraction. Borhran mused, he felt desires that his race had discarded many ages before, he felt a weakness within him, yet somehow it had a great influence. BAH! What was becoming of him, he was degenerating into some base being. After all even the daughter exhibited the weakness of her race. She had tried to dissuade him from his path, saying that history had proven time and time again the futility of all acts of aggression. She spoke of examples, even referring to the humans own history, tried to pursued him of the futility of his plans, told him how all aggressive acts failed in the end, of how light and good always prevailed. How sickening to hear this drivel. Yet he had to force himself to get back on track, revert his mind to the practicalities of the current plan. He shrugged, yet something in his mind still pictured the beauty of the T'Iea girl and the conviction in which she spoke.

Yet if it weren't for the actions of the T'Iea and her weakness they wouldn't be in the position they were now. It was all their fault, they insisted upon meddling in the affairs of the local indigenous population. They had forced him to do what he now undertook; someone had to stand up against these actions that went directly against their most stringent codes of practice.

A Pnook overseer stood behind him, shaking all thoughts from his mind he turned to address the little man who was holding a clip board and ready to make his report on the proceedings.

Petré awoke with a start. Something had disturbed his sleep, but that was common these days. His sleep was fitful and his dreams dark; even the waking hours did not seem to bring any respite. After a while he had decided to leave the chamber and try to find P'Arcerial. So far he had no success in finding out where she had been taken. He had wandered the city for days, but how many he couldn't tell, there was no distinction between night and day in here. He had walked and he had slept, but he had no way of knowing how much time had elapsed in doing these things. He avoided contact with Borhran's people, in certain areas they were everywhere. It was obvious a lot was going on in the Silo, but he didn't care what and he didn't care to speak with any of these elder races. At times frustration and anger had filled his mind, inner turmoil that drained him of energy. But P'Arcerial remained hidden to him, he began to speculate that she was most probably beyond his reach in one of those voids that Borhran was so fond of talking about by now. So eventually he conceded that he would have to face Borhran, it was the only way he was going to locate and be reunited with P'Arcerial. So he decided to go into the area where he knew most of the toil was going on.

As he travelled through the Silo he sort to remain out of sight of the elder races, but as soon as he entered the area where numerous people of the elder races worked he was spotted by the Grûndén guard. He thought about trying to escape, but then his capture so near to where Borhran was situated probably meant they would take him to see the Keeper, so he didn't resist. But even then his capturers weren't kind in their treatment of him, they continually struck him with the hilts of their war axes to make him walk and they laughed at him after voicing unknown words in their own language. Eventually they exited an access tunnel into a brightly lit open area.

The light blinded him, but the Grûndén goaded him on with a hefty shove in his back. After walking through this space where much industrious activity was going on, he heard a voice he recognised immediately. "Welcome to the hall of the Leviathan my boy." He was turned towards the source of the voice. Borhran smiled at him, the Keeper was standing at a bench of some kind scrutinising some paperwork. But he gently laid the papers down and walked towards Petré. "Come let us go somewhere we can talk."

Petré was released from the iron grip, he rubbed his arms where they had been held tightly. He looked around him great anger replaced any other feeling he had. He couldn't find any civil words to respond to Borhran so instead he asked the question that was highest on his mind. "Where is P'Arcerial? What have you done with her?" He lunged forward meaning to turn Borhran towards him and make him talk. A blow between his shoulder blades knocked him to the ground with a heavy thud, he gasped as the air was forced from his lungs, he continued to gasp as his diaphragm spasmed and he was temporarily unbale to breath.

"Oh, don't worry my boy, she is in safe hands. I didn't want to bore her with the technicalities of our work. But, why the long face? I assure you she will continue to be treated like an honoured guest whilst I am here in the Silo."

Petré had difficulty but as he took in deeper and deeper breaths he was finally able to say. "I want to see her, where is she? Tell me now!"

Borhran smiled and shook his head. "All in good time my boy." The Keeper stepped to one side and there revealed behind him was a little man, he looked like a child, although he had very short red bristly hair covering his head he had very little hair anywhere else. Petré recognised him as being of the race of the Pnook. The little man wore overalls of a thick leathery material, on the top of his head he wore a pair of dark rimmed goggles that had thick crystal lenses set within them. His face was dirty, covered with dust and grime except around the eyes where the goggles had obviously been worn. He smiled nervously as Borhran introduced him as master Priepen. At the same time Borhran made off down the long hall in which Petré found himself. Petré was hauled unceremoniously to his feet and forced to follow.

Eventually after moving halfway down the long hall he was led up a flight of spiral stairs to a landing high above. The three of them walked down the landing and through a door set in one side wall. They now stood in a room with a long glass wall in front of them. The glass quietened the din from outside. Borhran walked to a desk and lifted a linen cloth. He poured each of them a glass of red liquid from a decanter that sat upon one of the desks. The small man, Priepen, took his glass eagerly and looked although he was desperate to drink the contents, but he waited looking longingly at the glass he held.

"Come gentlemen a toast." It was Borhran who spoke, "A toast to our little venture, for now I find the final problem cured and we are left with the mere formalities of our own toils to complete the work at hand." He raised his glass and then sipped upon the red liquid. The Pnook downed his in one. Petré sniffed at the liquid, it had quite a pungent aroma but a pleasant one so he took a sip. The fact that he had not eaten or had a drink for over twenty-four hours and the fact that the liquid tasted very pleasant encouraged him, so he took a deeper mouthful. A pleasant warming sensation trickled down his gullet.

"Come Petré, let me show you something." Borhran took hold of Petré's arm gently and coaxed him towards the glass window that stood in front of them. Something vast stood beyond the glass. It was so big it seemed to fill the massive hall in which it was housed. Many small men like Priepen swarmed over the vast thing. Some had hand held devices that they held close to whatever the monster was, sparks cascaded down from where some worked. Others stood around deep in discussion. Petré gasped at the sight before his eyes, how long had he been wandering in the Silo? It must have taken months to accomplish what lay before him. Open mouthed he walked closer to the glass so that he could see more of the activity going on beyond. He looked out upon a vast black shape, his eyes moved slowly along its sleekness. So the low ceiling he was slightly aware of when he was brought into this area was actually the underside of this vast thing. He saw a sort of bridge, or gantry crossing from the side of the hall and ending against the side of the monster. Many Pnook walked back and forth along this gantry entering and exiting the great machine, for machine was what it must be.

He gasped. "What is it?"

"A means to an end." Smiled Borhran. "A flying machine, one the biggest that the Pnook have so far designed and built, other than the star ship of course. Impressive isn't it?"

Petré didn't know whether impressive was the right description. He felt he had to find out more about this machine before he could describe it in any way. "What is it for?"

Borhran smiled. "Let us say it's a tool, a tool to aid us, shall we?"

Again Petré thought surely it had not been longer than a few days, a week at most, since Borhran had arrived. How could they have made so much progress in such a short time?. "But, but, how long? I mean how long have you been building this thing?"

"Ah yes, a good question. Borhran smiled. "Quite a few months of the world outside have we toiled on this project. Even before that it took a fair time for the Grûndén to enlarge the existing space and create the necessary hall to house the first of my little toys."

Petré was shocked; he felt some humour in what Borhran had said. How could he have been working for such a long time in this place when it had only been a few weeks since he had first spoken with him in the library on the star ship?

"You look perplexed my boy." Borhran smiled. "But perhaps you have forgotten our conversations?"

When Petré was not forthcoming with any thoughts or any sign that he had remembered, Borhran continued. "You may remember how the Keepers can adjust time? Remember how time on the star ship does not obey the same formula as time here in your world? Well, let us say that I have been creative in the passing of time here in this Silo of yours." Borhran smiled clearly enjoying the look of disbelief that was upon Petré's features. Borhran said no more, letting the realisation of it all sink into Petré's mind.

Something was indeed dawning in Petré's mind. He did remember those conversations. So whilst he was languishing within the city of the Silo, Borhran and his aides had been building something here for many weeks? Then something else occurred to him so he asked the question. "Halls? You said halls. How many of these halls are there?"

Borhran seemed to pull himself up in pride as he answered. "Well I have instructed the Grûndén to enlarge all of the existing halls. They were very eager, for the rock around here contains many mineral deposits that the Grûndén found irresistible. That was their one demand that they kept anything they found. They found much I think, enough to satisfy them, but that is of little interest to me. They have enlarged three so far and they will soon accomplish what I asked of them and that satisfies me."

Petré knew there was seven original halls in each Silo, Borhran indicated that he wished to enlarge all of them, then build seven of these machines. "But, but that's impossible, to carve out even a single hall this size would take years." Petré stood aghast.

"Ah my boy, not when you have access to the right tools and help from creatures that have evolved to dig quickly and efficiently even in the hardest of rock deposits."

Petré was taken aback at the indifferent and derogatory attitude Borhran took when describing his allies the Grûndén miners – creatures indeed.

Borhran scrutinised Petré's face and laughed out loud. When he composed himself he said, "don't look so shocked my boy, there are other ways of mining even quicker than our Grûndén friends as long as you know where to look and have the ability to transport the .... proper tools to the right place. But when I say creatures, I mean creatures, you would be surprised what our Grûndén friends have found during their many years of mining in the voids." He laughed, "I wouldn't dream of branding my Grûndén allies so lowly. Of that I can assure you."

Petré was filled with dread; how could anyone stand against these people? They had superior knowledge and technology, they knew things that his race couldn't even begin to imagine and their capabilities far outstripped anything that human kind had so far mastered and maybe would ever master. He suddenly realised that his part in all this was infinitesimal, he could neither offer, or do anything to influence Borhran, it was impossible for him to change events, this was all far beyond any control he could apply. He was beginning to suspect things that he did not like to think of. It became suddenly obvious, Borhran was building weapons of war, seven halls. Seven powerful flying machines of war.' He looked at Borhran. "How many have you built so far?"

"Well so far there is this one that is the nearest to completion and another that has its framework already built and the decks installed within ready to take on equipment. There is another that we have just started to build, but it will be a while yet before that one is recognisable. My Pnook friends are quick, but they are too few to work on all three machines at the same time. But eventually the remaining halls will all be dug and by then these three machines will all be nearing completion."

Borhran looked upon Petré's despair and smiled slightly. "But my dear Petré, I haven't yet formally thanked you. Forgive me that is very remiss. I am indebted to you, you played your part so well. Come my boy, I needed someone, someone with the knowledge to gain entry into the deeper sections of the Silo and to show me the coordinates to open a portal into the heart of the facility, you played your part admirably and I have to thank you." Borhran bowed. "I am eternally grateful."

"The soldiers? You have the mechanical soldiers don't you?"

Borhran smiled, "yes I have them thanks to you master Petré. You will not find me ungrateful, be assured of that. The previous occupants of this Silo don't need them anymore and it seems such a waste to let them deteriorate here in the Silo when they could be put to good use. I have plans for them of course, but first I want to make a few modifications. I have no doubt they are a formidable force as they are, but I think I can improve upon that a little, you will see, I am sure you will be impressed."

Petré wasn't sure what to say, he knew each Silo housed many such individual machines, they were housed in long chambers deep within the Silo, stored ready for a time when the Silo might be attacked. The original halls that Borhran was having enlarged were the muster halls from which the mechanical army could be deployed, designed to keep any invading army at bay in the vast circular entrance to the Silo through which he and P'Arcerial had entered. "But where will you go with these machines, there is nothing left in my world that you need to fight for."

Borhran laughed, "who said that it was something in your world I am fighting for?" He shook his head in a sort of bemused manner. "There is nothing there that I want. This is only a hiding place, somewhere to build my army in secret, away from the scrutiny of those that would oppose me and no doubt would try to stop me."

Petré gasped, "you are going to attack the star ship. But how will you get these machines there? You will be discovered."

Borhran nodded and smiled, "There are ways my young friend, your world does hold one thing, it holds the power, the arcane energy to provide the means to transport such large devices. Your ancestors saw to that."

Petré became quiet, he suddenly realised what a fool he had been. His suspicions were accurate, Borhran never wanted to help him save his world, Borhran wanted to destroy his own world. Despair flooded through him, so much so his legs almost gave way. He had nothing now, absolutely nothing. No hope, no dreams. But his despair started to slowly turn to anger, he clenched his fists. The Grûndén soldiers behind him stepped forward and struck him across the back of the head. His senses reeled as he fell to his knees. He knew then, he had to find a way, find a way to warn the elder races. P'Arcerial, she was the only way. If he could get to her, they had a chance, they must have a chance!

As if he knew what Petré was thinking Borhran continued. "But I sense you miss your female company? Be assured, your lady friend remains safe at least for the time being."

Petré looked crest fallen. How could he get to P'Arcerial? Borhran and all his advanced technology and the might of the elder races lay between him and her.

"Ah you wish to return to her. So touching a sentiment, so sweet. Yet who am I to deny two lovers their company." Borhran smiled, he reached inside his robes and Petré saw he held a portal stone between his thumb and forefinger. Borhran seemed to stare at it for a few moments before he said, "here I have the means to reunite you, the path to your desired reunion. He shrugged, "love is such a powerful thing is it not. It can drive you to madness, it can dictate what you do and how you behave. A normal person can be driven to doing things they would never dream of for love. Well my young friend, the only thing I want from you is your continued aid and loyalty. I have a feeling that your love for the T'Iea girl will ensure me of that. But you realise I can't risk the two of you together, you will plot against me, seek to undue all the hard work I have accomplished. Oh, I will reunite you master Petré, don't worry, when the time is right I assure you, your beloved T'Iea girl and yourself will be together once again. You will have all the time in the world." He looked once more at the tiny stone in his hand before he secreted it away somewhere amongst his robes once again. Borhran nodded to the Grûndén guards that had been following him. They moved forward and grasping Petré once more dragged him away. Borhran's chuckle sang in his ears feeding his hatred.

## Chapter 45. Recovering the Minds of the Drones

Borhran looked at the arrow he held along with the longbow in his other hand. He admired the workmanship that had gone into making both. Even he could appreciated the craftsmanship. He had taken it, from the collection of weapons his guards had confiscated from the T'Iea girl. His smile widened, he held her here now, subdued and captive, the thought excited him, she was at his mercy, he was in control. But these thoughts were swept aside as his thoughts changed. He looked at the arrow differently and felt what it represented. He doubted D'Annu'Elle would sit by idle whilst his daughter was missing. Did D'Annu'Elle know where she was yet? No he couldn't, otherwise he would be knocking at the door by now. Still he had a little time, the T'Iea would be here before long, once they knew where to find P'Arcerial they would come.

His thoughts returned to his current purpose. The T'Iea would never imagine using such a weapon as this arrow for the purposes he had mapped in his mind. The T'Iea would not destroy anything they deemed as part of the Maker's creation. It had always seemed a foolish thing to him, that ideology, yet that same unshakable code of practice now gave him a golden opportunity. He turned, looking down the length of the great hall in which he stood. Row upon row of shaped depressions along the walls on three levels all held the mechanical soldiers that made up the army of the Silo. They stood in rank upon rank. He looked at their bright eyes glowing red in the half-light of the interior of their sarcophaguses. The unblinking eyes looked strange, like red coals shining from a hearth, he could see the eyes in the darkness even if he could not see their faces and form. He wondered if these mechanical men outnumbered the human population within the Silo, if there were more of them than the actual beings they were designed to guard and defend. He was surprised that the human contingent when they abandoned the Silo did not take any of these soldiers with them, he had wandered throughout the several individual halls in which they were stored, not once did he see evidence that any great number were missing. Well, all the better for him, they were his now. He needed them for his invasion. The wheels were now in motion, there was no turning back.

His only concern now was the possible threat posed by the Entity within the Rift. If it were to interfere with his plans then all could still be lost. Worse, the Entity may end up in control of his army and even he may end up dead. But that problem had been solved, not by him but by the T'Iea. Once again D'Annu'Elle's people had provided a solution to his worst problem. At the request of D'Annu'Elle the Grûndén had gone to the voids, they had mined the necessary key stone mineral, in a large enough quantity that they had formed it into the largest block ever produced. D'Annu'Elle would have the span built across the Rift and the key stone mounted high above the Rift vent by now. The block would attract the arcane power and along with it the Entity, of that Borhran was sure. But he knew that the mage, the one called Gh'Er'T, the one who had suggested this did in fact have his own agenda for the key stone block, he had sided with Borhran and agreed to his plan, but only because he wanted to save the Entity within the Rift only to be able to release it in the future so that it could escape back out into the world once more, not, as Borhran planned to seal the Entity away using the great block as a prison. That conflict of interests once discovered may well prove problematic for Borhran in the future, but he was confident that his new army would cope should the necessity arise. But Borhran had other plans for the block and the limitless supply of tamed arcane energy it would provide. He would need that much concentrated arcane energy, to be able to create a portal large enough to take him and his army to wherever they needed to go. He laughed, he loved the irony that poor D'Annu'Elle, having originally ordered the key stone made may be the only one not to have foreseen its true use.

Borhran looked smug, so many deceptions and he was the only one that knew what was real and what was fabricated. He had even kidnapped D'Annu'Elle's daughter and if he had timed it all correctly then D'Annu'Elle would be preoccupied with his daughters rescue and be concentrating his forces for a rescue mission here within the Silo and not responding to any invasion Borhran planned. Borhran had built weapons and deceived his old comrades of the combined races. He doubted they would welcome him back now. There was nothing for it but to press ahead. He will command them, command his people, raise them out of slavery as pawns to the combined races and free them. They could still be navigators, helmsmen, but it will be on their terms and not through any obligation or to the obedience of others.

He sighed, it was time for work not for dreaming. He put his hand inside his robes and brought out a small tool. He placed this against the bulbous arrow head and a slight click sounded. He replaced the tool and with his fingers unscrewed the top half of the arrow head, it split in half neatly. He tipped something out into his hand, it was a dark stone, a portal stone encased inside some kind of transparent material. He again put his hand into his robes and pulled out another portal stone identical to the first. This second one he placed inside the arrow head and screwed it shut once again. He looked at the arrow, he was no archer by any stretch of the imagination but he didn't have to be, all he had to do was draw on the power of the bow and release this arrow at a target even he could not miss, then he would have access to the place where he kept his prisoners. He raised the bow, notched the black arrow and pulled upon the power of the bow, his arm shook with the exertion of it, he only managed to half draw the bow. He aimed carefully at the constructed archway in front of him, not five metres away, he hesitated and the muscles in his arm started to increasingly shake with the exertion. Black stones shone within the periphery of the arch. Just beyond and through the arch there was a boulder set into a plinth. The boulder had no function other than to provide a firm surface on which to burst the arrow and release the arcane energy signature that it held. The archway would amplify this energy and contain the portal it made indefinitely, a large portal able to transport a large quantity of things. He still wasn't 100% certain however this was going to work, he didn't have the time to test it and he only had one arrow. He shook his head as if to clear the thoughts from his mind. Enough delay, there was only one-way to find out if this was going to work. But before he could consciously release the arrow, his muscles gave way to the weight of the bow and the arrow was released anyway. In less than a second it burst against the boulder, the portal stone with the dark core within was released, the core was less than the size of an atom, but even so he immediately felt the pull of it upon his skin, there was a brief feeling of discomfort even mild pain as he was drawn towards the invisible dark core not ten metres away. Panic suddenly filled his mind, if he did not move he would be drawn in prematurely, he made to move away but his foot caught on a rock and he fell landing heavily on his back. He gasped and scrambled backwards, pain shot thorough the palms of his hands as they scraped across the gravel floor. But he made it far enough to be out of the effect of the dark core. He looked up, the archway was starting to do its job, focussing the energy in a tunnel shape. Loose rubble and stones on this side of the archway suddenly elongated and were sucked through into the void in less time than it took to blink. He felt the pull getting stronger, he unconsciously let out a small yelping sound as he was forced to scramble even further backwards. His heart gave a leap, if that stupid Pnook's calculations were wrong or he had been tricked, if the archway failed to contain the arcane flow then he was going to be next, along with the whole Silo eventually, there would be no escape. If the dark core got the upper hand then this whole place would quickly disappear consumed by the insatiable hunger of the arcane forces held open by the archway. Involuntarily he placed the palms of his hands against the rock wall seeking the feel of the rock as if it would hold him there, close against it, a part of its solid surface. He could still feel the draw from the dark core steadily increasing, soon he too would not escape its icy grasp. But to his great relief, the arch that surrounded the boulder suddenly connected, the stones and the containment coils drew on the massive energy release from the dark core and they filled with power and started to hum. The pull from the Dark Core started to diminish quickly, he smiled it was working after all, he had control of the energy, he had control of the most powerful thing known in the universe. Yes, it was working; the invisible dark core was drawn into the space immediately beneath the arch and settled there like an obedient pet. Borhran breathed a sigh of relief, he breathed for the first time since releasing the arrow, he tried to stop his shaking, he was glad no one else was here to witness his fear. The invisible darkness at the centre of the archway grew until it eventually filled the inside of the arch and stopped. Momentarily he felt pride in his achievement. But then he felt pain on his arm, he looked down to see an ugly red graze on his fore arm. He then realised the wretched string of the bow had struck him as he had released the arrow. He frowned, he had not been able to release the bow consciously and now it had damaged him, in his mind he felt that it was the T'Iea who had been in control after all and they had punished him. He hoped this was not an ill omen. He looked with some disgust at the bow in his hand, he walked to a table and placed the bow upon it.

Now he had to test the ultimate part of his planned design. As a Keeper he was completely confident in the creation and use of portals. Sometimes, as was the case here, the destination was not within the same physical plane, but led to distant destinations within other places, voids in time and space. These T'Iea arrow's contained a minute Dark Core which had a particular signature for a particular void, a place he needed to go along with his new found army of mechanical warriors. But the arrow's connection was normally one way. No portal in fact was bi-directional they led from place A to place B. To get back, the return journey had to be initiated from place B to Place A. It was the same journey in reverse, but the two journeys where completely separate in the governing laws and physics of space/time. That was part of the purpose of the archway, as well as maintaining the connection it should also enable a two-way journey. He had likened it to a mirror when he had described it to the Pnook that had constructed the arch. A mirror that reflected the aspects of the portal held within it, but it needed testing. He turned to the soldier that stood nearest to him and made an order, "go, enter through and then return to me immediately."

Without thought or question the metal soldier started forward and approached the arch. Like the rubble from the floor it seemed to slowly pass through until finally its booted foot on the end of one leg was the last to disappear. Then almost immediately the soldiers head and torso came back through, followed by the rest of it. It marched up to Borhran and waited for its next order. Borhran scrutinised the soldier closely. It was the same, seemingly unaffected by its passage through the anomaly.

Borhran nodded in satisfaction. He looked at the soldier once again and spoke with a raised voice, "lead the army through, spread out in defensive stance on the other side." The soldier turned and the army of two thousand stirred and started to move forward in a regimented fashion. Five abreast and in perfect unison they started to march through the anomaly and into the void beyond.

Borhran moved to the side of the hall to where he had ordered placed a chair with a soft cushion and refreshments of wine and a bowl of fruit. He sat and ate, sipping his wine occasionally as he watched. Then he closed his eyes and meditated. It would take a number of hours for his army to pass through. He may as well spend the time resting. After all he deserved it.

Sometime later Borhran stirred. The noise of tramping feet still could be heard but greatly less in volume. He looked in satisfaction as his army of soldiers was now greatly reduced in number at least on this side of the portal. Soon they would all be through and he could follow. Then the real work would begin. He didn't turn at the sound of others as they arrived at his side, he remained watching as the line of soldiers diminished until the last went through. "Ah master Priepen, you have arrived just in time, let us follow through and begin work." He indicated to the Pnook engineers who stood around some kind of machine that they should proceed through, they did so without a word.

Borhran followed the last of them through the anomaly, he expected some discomfort but he was pleasantly surprised when none came. He landed on the other side, it was quite a step down which he did not expect, he stumbled falling forward, partially due perhaps to the wine he had drunk and he hit the rocky ground hard, it knocked the air from his lungs. He lay there for a few moments regaining his breath. But eventually he stood and frowned at the soldiers that looked down at him, were they mocking him? No, they would not dare, he smiled, they couldn't. after all they had no intelligence of that kind. But that would change soon. He shrugged off their stares and turned to survey what lay beyond. His army was standing to attention in ranks much as they had on the other side. But they were in a vastly different place that was obvious. It was darker here, in fact it was most probably pitch black if it was not for the lights that some of his Pnook followers carried. He grabbed a lamp from the nearest Pnook and strode forward looking at the ground. He was expecting to see a smashed mess of metal and biological material where the Ognods had attacked the last drone to enter this way. But he was pleased someone had seen fit to clean up the mess. He turned to the nearest soldier, he gave it the lamp and ordered it to raise it as high as it could and shine its light in a circular motion. The light reflected off walls of rock, Borhran began to fear he had miscalculated, he frowned, surely he was in the right place, surely all his work had not been wasted? He walked forward between the line of soldiers, was that a shadow? Yes, the light was dim but he could see as his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he smiled. There set into alcoves on the cliff face were hundreds and hundreds of machines. Those machines the humans had created for their war, the captured drones that had been collected over the years. All types and sizes sent to this place for safe keeping. All these machines were in stasis; it would not have been this way if the machines were just that, machines. But they were not. Each of these machines had a biological component. Each contained the brain and nervous system of a former human. That was the reason the T'Iea would not destroy the machines, rather they sent them into a void to be stored, not this void though, these were his to do with as he wished. He was going to be their saviour, he was going to set the human brains free once more. But not within these machines that housed them, no he had brought his own army to receive the human brains. An army of soldiers that had the invincibility of the mechanical form, married to the calculating, reasoning self-consciousness of the human mind and through his further designs would be easily transportable to anywhere. Whether that be in this world or in any other. His army would be unbeatable. He would call them Startmektoken, a word in the ancient language of his people that referred to an ancient time in their history, a time when they had fought one another for dominance. The clan Startmektoken had proven the victors, they were his clan. His ancestors had fought and died for their victory, now he was going to make them live again in their greatness. The Startmektoken would be fearless and unforgiving in battle. A time forgotten by his people now that they had become subjugated to the influences of the alliance of races. But he would free them again, all of them. The race of the Keepers would be revered once again for what they truly were, they would find their true place as leaders of the alliance, instead of just subjects of it and he would be their leader, their king.

He gave the order and watched. To him they had become his followers, his faithful flock waiting for a gift of biological life for their mechanical bodies. Waiting to be enlightened with a mind that could think, could reason. Take his orders without question, but also have the ability to make choices as to how those orders would be best carried out. He felt like a god, one who had it in their power to gift true life. They would be elevated, no longer just machines to do his bidding. They would become an army of the faithful, with his gift an army with limitless powers of reason and he would be their leader. No, he would be their father.

The Pnook stood at the head of many lines of soldiers, metal caskets were piled behind them each holding its precious cargo. A soldier approached and knelt, the Pnook began their work. Yes, here his faithful knelt in turn at the altar of his generosity, each receiving his gift. Borhran watched for a while a satisfied smile upon his face. When he was satisfied that all was progressing he clicked his fingers, his Grûndén escort stepped forward with the tray on which stood a bottle and a glass. Borhran sipped at the wine seated once more upon his cushioned chair as he watched. It never failed to amaze him how industrious the Pnook were, how quickly they worked. He savoured the wine and closed his eyes in satisfaction.

## Chapter 46. Stowaway

Petré's thoughts were dark. He now understood that Borhran had just used him. The Keeper only had his own interests at heart, the whole thing had just been a sham, a way of getting Petré's attention, a way of giving him hope. But that hope was plainly false, he saw it all now for what it really was. Borhran had used him as a pawn, a pawn to gain entry into the Silo. The Keeper had his own plans from the very beginning, Petré chided himself, he had suspected such, yet he still held out hope. Now Borhran had what he wanted all along, he had an army of mechanical soldiers he had stolen from within the Silo. An army that could be used for goodness knows what. An army with Borhran as sole commander. Borhran had even renamed them, he called them Startmektoken, they no longer belonged to Petré's people.

Petré frowned, it seemed that Borhran had already won and Petré had been a major ally in him gaining that victory. Well now he had started the ball rolling. D'Annu'Elle would return, not alone but with an army. He would come to destroy Borhran and probably the Silo along with him. Even if he did not want to do this he would still come with an army to rescue his daughter. Initially Petré had intended to return her to the star ship, but he no longer knew where she was. Even now after all he had done, he could not give up P'Arcerial, he hoped she could forgive him, that they could return to the relationship they once had. What a fool he had been, what a mess he had made of everything.

At that moment Petré felt deflated, alone, he had hoped that his relationships with the combined races would help his people, now it seemed to him that had just been a dream, a blind hope. He had trusted them, placed all his aspirations in them. They had the power, the knowledge and ability. They could have easily risen to the challenge and brought his people out of danger, helped them to once again prosper and fill the world as they had once done so long ago. He felt anger rising within him, felt the painful lump in his throat that almost threatened to stop his very breathing. He clenched his fist until his broken nails dug deep into the skin of his palms. He felt the pain, the physicality of it, but it was nothing to the pain that he felt deep within him, he felt his heart would burst. He turned and thumped the wall hard, tears rolled down his cheeks. Nothing had been done to help them, nothing at all. The combined races had completely neglected humanity, done nothing to aid him, all his hopes lay dashed now at his feet, awash in the tears of his anger and frustration. Not a single thing he had done had made the slightest difference. He hated them, hated them all. Hated them for their deceit, their arrogance, their selfishness. He didn't care if he didn't see any of them ever again. In fact he wanted them all to go away, to leave him and his people. They were far better off without them. They had promised to help, to aid them in their recovery. The actual facts fell far short of that promise, he realised that now.

No, he was on his own, if anything could be done to change the course of events it was up to him. He no longer had friends amongst the Elder races and his own people had deserted him, left the Silo and gone back out into the world. There was one thing he could do, it would mean his own end, but it would also mean the end of Borhran if he timed it right. Yes, that was it, he could strike a blow for humanity, strike a blow that may even save P'Arcerial, not that she would thank him for it, or even know that the salvation was actually due to his efforts, but at least he would be satisfied that he would have paid back his life debt to her, wiped the slate clean. Then at least his soul would be free, free to perhaps even go to the halls of the Maker that P'Arcerial was so fond of talking about. He smiled, had she gotten to him? No, that was just another useless hope.

After his meeting with Borhran had had hoped at least that the soldiers that dragged him away would incarcerate him somewhere near to P'Arcerial even in the same place. But he realised even that was not to be as they just cast him out of the area where Borhran was undertaking his major work. He wasn't even deemed enough of a threat for them to take him seriously. He made his way through the Silo, most of Borhran's followers were still being kept busy with Borhran's plans. Petré knew they were loading the Leviathan machine with the mechanical soldiers. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he did know that he stood alone, it was up to him to retaliate and him alone. Whatever he did, he was going to set things in motion once again. It was up to him to set things right. He almost cried out in anger as he thought that his current predicament was caused by the T'Iea, their inactivity and hesitance to do something.

The T'Iea races had dragged their feet, done nothing to help. They should have done more, could have done more. But why should the combined races care, after all they could just hide in their star ship and if necessary just leave. Well now they would come, come with an army into the world of men, they would now be forced to fight. Perhaps this may even help his people after all.

He turned a corner and there in front of him, blocking his path, was the grill that he knew would be there, he had memorised the plans of this area of the Silo. He slowly and quietly moved on until he could see through the grill to what lay beyond. He smiled. Beyond lay the regeneration hall from where the Startmektoken soldiery were leaving their alcoves and lining up to be led down to the Leviathan machine that Borhran would soon use to begin his war, for war must be what he was planning. Petré told himself to focus, these thoughts were getting in the way, he must concentrate on the matter at hand. He looked around the floor of the large chamber below. It was full of the metal soldiers all lining up ready to go through the door and into the tunnel that led to Borhran's machine. The only compliment of Borhran's helpers that he could see were two Grûndén soldiers standing either side of the exit door watching the metal soldiers as they passed through. The light in the chamber was dim, especially up here where the lamps did not shine, but if he tried to sneak through amongst the soldiers he would be easily seen. He thought for a while and then he spied something across the chamber. Yes, that was it, the circuit breaker box on the other side, if he could get to that he could kill all the lights, it would take the Grûndén ages to find out what had happened, if at all. He knew the Grûndén to be mostly miners and soldiers, not at all technical and certainly no electricians, at least not the ones that travelled on the star ship. One by one he pushed his fingers through the grill and depressed the clips that held the grill in its frame, that done he carefully pushed on the grill. He had a shock, the grill was heavier then he thought it would be and when it came free of the frame it fell, he had to stifle a shout of pain, his fingers were through the top of the grill, his hand was now trapped between the top of the grill and the metal plates of the frame in which it was held, the grill was doing its best to separate him from his fingers like a pair of heavy scissors. He forced himself to wait a few seconds but the Grûndén did not look up, he knelt on the floor and with his free hand pulled on the grill, it lifted and he was able to remove his trapped fingers. Wincing with pain he lowered the grill to the floor below him. He climbed through and lowered himself to the floor. Clasping his bleeding hand he sat down his back against the wall and took in deep breaths. After a while his hand went numb and he was able to again concentrate on his next move. One glance towards the Grûndén and he was satisfied that he had not made a sound, his hand had actually saved him, stopped the heavy grill from clattering onto the floor and alerting the Grûndén guards. Small price to pay for not being able to move his fingers for the time being

He slid out and lowered himself to the floor between two of the Startmektoken recharging chambers. He toyed with the idea of replacing the grill to cover his movements but there was no way of him reaching high enough to be able to do that, at least not one handed. Instead he moved round the walkway heading for the panel on the other side of the room. This was easy, the Grûndén weren't looking up, all the metal soldiers were now on the main floor below. Suddenly he felt urgency, he had to hurry, there were only thirty or so of the soldiers left, they would all be through and the door which would then be closed. He cursed himself for sitting and nursing his hand for so long. He reached the panel, twisted the small ring that operated the latch and opened it. There in front of him were many banks of switches, he looked closely and found the ones that controlled the chambers lighting, there were three. Luckily they were next to each other and he could operate them all at the same time. That way he could trip all the lights, making them all appear to fail together and thus look like and electrical fault and not something controlled. He took in a breath and moved his fingers. There was a click and all the lights went out, not only in the chamber but also in the tunnel that the Startmektoken soldiers were exiting. He could not afford to linger. Closing and latching the panel he felt his way along the wall and down the slope that led to the chamber floor. He could hear the angry voices of the two Grûndén soldiers. He couldn't understand the words being spoken, but he knew swearing and cursing when he heard it. He smiled, the voices led him to where the door was. Suddenly he stumbled into something hard and was thrown slightly off balance, whatever it was moved forward again. He shot out a hand instinctively to stop himself from bumping into something and felt cold metal. Of course this was one of the metal soldiers, the soldier moved forward and he was immediately struck in the back. He almost fell but as he staggered forward he came across the soldier in front of him again. This time he kept his hand on the soldiers back and walked in unison with it. Thankfully the soldiers did not need to see to know where they were going, they followed sensors mounted in the floor.

After a minute or two he knew they were approaching the door that led from the regeneration chamber into the tunnel that would lead them to the hall which housed the Leviathan machine. The two Grûndén had calmed down for they now spoke with normal voices. Petré guessed that they had realised that the metal soldiers were still filing through and that the light in the chamber was not necessary, the darkness was just an inconvenience to any biological beings that happened to be in the chamber. But P'Arcerial had said something when she was telling him about the Grûndén, something about them having excellent eye sight in the dark. He had not thought much of it, but now it made sense if these people were essentially miners and used to living underground their eyesight would have surely adapted. He realised that he was now in danger of being discovered after all. In his panic he crouched down. He must be very close to the door by now, if he tried to slip out from between the Startmektoken soldiers he would surely be seen. He closed his eyes, he listened carefully. He could still hear the two Grûndén, but their voices seemed to be farther away. What if the soldiers he was between had turned around and were moving away from the door? He had no choice, he couldn't see a thing so he carried on between them holding onto the one in front for guidance.

Eventually after some while he could see a light outlining a doorway in front of him. The soldiers were passing through this doorway and into a lit chamber. He breathed a sigh of relief, ahead of him was the large chamber in which the Leviathan was housed, somehow he had made it. He smiled, ahead the two Grûndén soldiers had walked though into the lit chamber. So that would explain why they had sounded further away, they also had fallen into line between two of the Startmektoken soldiers, perhaps they realised that the end of the line was almost there and decided that they may as well move off and leave the final remnants of the army to travel through the tunnel on their own. But what if they decided to take up their posts either side of the exit door! Petré watched in fear, but again was relieved when the two soldiers instead of stopping moved onward out into the chamber and continued to walk away without turning to look back. They were obviously sharing a joke or something for they laughed and gestured at one another as they walked.

Petré blinked as he came out into the comparatively brightly lit chamber of the Leviathan. There was the machine. Ominously hanging in the air. He was lucky that the designers had not seen fit to illuminate the lower sections of the chamber, the only lighting was mounted in the ceiling above and the presence of the great machine blocked most of the light from reaching down this far. He continued to walk between the soldiers. The two Grûndén were now nowhere to be seen and there was no one else about. He felt safer so he looked around. There hanging beneath the Leviathan were a number of platforms that he knew were designed to house the Startmektoken soldiers and take them up into the belly of the machine. He waited until the soldiers he was between passed one of these platforms already loaded up with soldiers and then ran from between them and around the end of the platform. He hopped up onto the platform between the two rows of soldiers that where already mounted into their recharging bays. There was a grilled walkway between them that led to a metal ladder, he made his way forward to the ladder and held on tightly to the rungs whilst looking up into the Leviathan machine itself. He was glad he held on tight, for the platform started to move up into the machine. He once more feared that someone might see him, for the interior of the machine was brightly lit. But there were other platforms, some already in place and others moving about heading towards their final resting place, there was a lot of movement and distraction and for that he was thankful. But then he almost fell from the ladder for between two of the moving platforms he saw Borhran and a couple of Pnook standing on a metal walkway in the centre of the chamber smiling and looking about them at the spectacle. To his dismay the platform on which he now crouched started to move towards this small audience. He crouched even lower. Almost lying flat on the platform at the bottom of the ladder. The platform moved again. But this time at right angles to its original path and came to a halt. It swung a little until a clamp device arched down from above and with a metallic clank fixed the platform in place. He looked around between the feet of the soldiers, he could see nothing other than more platforms and more soldiers legs. He dared not move and after some time the sounds of mechanical mechanisms died away and here realised that the loading process was now completed. Everything became silent, he could hear voices, mainly the unmistakable sickly crooning voice of Borhran himself. But even these became quieter and to Petré's great relief he realised that Borhran was moving, hopefully leaving the chamber altogether. When total silence fell Petré risked standing slowly and looking around. He gingerly climbed up the ladder a few rungs, he could now see over the heads of the dormant mechanical army. He looked towards the platform on which Borhran had stood gloating over his creation. There was no one there, he was alone at last. He climbed further up the ladder until he came out onto a metal walkway, a look around confirmed that no one else stood in the large chamber, so he made his way across the maze of walkways until he came to a dimly lit control room in the centre, the door wasn't locked so he went through and shutting the door behind him sat on the floor, his back against a wall and winced as he once again nursed his damaged hand.

## Chapter 47. Na'Thernal.

Na'Thernal initial excitement had now given way to pure curiosity. All his life he had wondered if his own people would ever return to this world. His father could not tell him when this might happen, only that they would return and until then he had to do his part in their plan. He missed his father, he was the only other T'Iea he had ever known, but now others were here! Yet he couldn't help but be cautious. He had come back to the Silo to check on things, this was normal he did this every few months. But this time he was surprised to see two others there, a T'Iea female and a human male. He wondered what business these two had in the Silo. Of course he wouldn't recognise the T'Iea, but he thought he knew everyone that had once lived in this Silo. But he didn't recognise the human male. He had decided to await their return and confront them rather than drain the cistern again and go into the Silo and spy on them. He knew how dangerous the Silo had become for one or two people alone. The new masters of the Silo would not suffer any of their human cousins coming back. But it had been a seven days since they had entered and now he was thinking of going in himself to see what had become of them. Possibly they had been attacked and captured by the Apolets, but this he somehow didn't believe. He himself had easily fought off those creatures numerous times using the inherent fighting skills of his race. He remembered when he had first led the humans out of the Silo to go and live in the desert, how a group of Apolets had followed them and ambushed them in this very meadow. It had been a mistake to leave during the darkness of night, for although it hid their movements from others of human kind, it did allow the Apolets to follow. Normally the creatures kept themselves in darkness, their adapted eyes did not suffer bright light. Bones lay littered about as testimony to that brief conflict. But the humans fear was unfounded, for after many years of survival outside the Silo, only recently did detect war drones flying so deep in the desert. It was this change that had led Na'Thernal to begin his regular reconnoitres.

But now his curiosity had been aroused, so he had drained the Silo and climbed down the many stairs, through the entrance and along the main access tunnel. He now stood in the open area below the safety cistern which would lead back up into the gloom and to the entrance to the Silo itself.

He had stopped to listen but could hear nothing so he had started the long climb back up the inside of the Silo. After he had climbed for a while, he became aware of a sound high above, a grinding noise as if rock was being crushed by heavy machinery. He peered upwards into the gloom, a light was shining forth from the side of the chamber with increased intensity illuminating the walls high above. The light dimmed slowly as something very large seemed to come slowly out of the wall above probably from the same place the light was shining from. A large cylindrical thing had completely exited from somewhere and now hung in mid-air high above, it started to move downwards towards him. Something was coming down the long chamber, something huge. All he could do was watch the decent, he would never be able to reach the bottom before this thing was upon him and there was nowhere to hide down there anyway.

The long cylindrical shape increased in size as it seemed to float down towards him, it was still outlined by the light shining into the chamber from high above, it was descending downwards towards him quickly and steadily. Na'Thernal was thankful that he was standing in a position that would bring whatever it was sideways to his position, for the two extreme ends of the cylinder came very close to the side walls of the chamber and the stair well that wound its way up. Even so he subconsciously shoved his back hard into the wall on the inside of the stairwell.

Eventually the long dark shape came down to a horizontal position at the side of him, where it slowed and stopped. The machine, for machine it obviously was, did not make a sound as it halted. Na'Thernal noticed that some sort of railing ran part the way along the side of the machine, like a promenade deck on a ship, but no passengers stood admiring the view. A long sinuous depiction of a fire-breathing Dragon curled along the side of the machine, its claws extended as if trying to grasp something in front. As he watched the image of the monster seemed to shimmer and fade and Na'Thernal began to see a section of the front of the machine change. The dark of the hull became a dull orange colour, then a brighter yellow. Suddenly he understood, the nature of the material that comprised the hull was turning transparent, what he was witnessing was the changing colours from the illumination inside the machine slowly shining through the hull as it became more and more translucent. Eventually a white light shone outwards from the now transparent hull. Na'Thernal raised a hand to his eyes to shield them from the bright light. Through his fingers he saw the light dim, he gauged a time when it was dim enough to allow his eyes to see so he lowered his hand and looked towards the machine hovering before him.

He was stunned. There, level with him and looking out from the interior of the machine was a figure sitting behind what looked like some kind of control console. The face had a broad smile upon its features which were otherwise white in hue and completely hairless. The figure still smiling nodded slowly at him while the figure made a mocking bow.

No sooner had the gesture been made the machine once again resumed its slow descent. Na'Thernal watched the mocking face as the machine continued downwards, he stared at those eyes until the machine reached the floor of the cistern and then moved off going down the tunnel through which they had entered the Silo not so long ago, the tunnel that led to the exit beyond. Na'Thernal was dumfounded and felt a deep sense of foreboding. What was going on here? Had someone or a group been able to access the Silo and take it over following its desertion? Was the human Silo now a base for some other force, a force that had some new technology at its disposal? Who were the two he had witnessed entering the Silo? Were they something to do with this? Na'Thernal needed to find out. They must know what was going on. There was an increased urgency to find them to ask them what it was had happened here in his Silo.

Na'Thernal eventually came out upon the landing at the top of the safety cistern. He stopped and was looking around with an air of confusion. Around the circumference of the chamber large doors had been set, large doors able to easily allow passage of the machine that he had witnessed leaving the Silo but an hour before.

Na'Thernal traversed around the top of the chamber until he stood in front of the first large door, whether or not this was the one that had opened to allow the machine to exit, he was not sure. The figure found a little receptacle on the wall that quite obviously admitted a Dolan, he was about to place the Dolan within when he realised this way could place him in grave danger, the people that made the modifications to the Silo may not be so friendly towards him. Before he did anything rash he needed to know more about the purpose the Silo had now been put to and who was behind it.

The T'Iea walked further around the platform until he came to a much smaller door, a personnel door the T'Iea used a Dolan in a small receptacle and the door opened. He stepped through. He made his way through the town to a set of large doors. Using his Dolan he waited until a green ;amp illuminated on the wall beside the doors. They opened and he stepped through. After exiting through another set of identical doors he found himself back in the city of the Silo. It had been a long time since he was here last, but it was as he remembered apart from of course it was empty of all life.

After some hours of walking and several more doors Na'Thernal eventually stood within another lengthy hall, but unlike the other halls they had walked through this one was occupied, on either side many heavily armoured soldiers stood to attention. They all stood with their backs towards the wall. He moved closer to the nearest soldier. He could see that the figure stood inside a close-fitting capsule. The soldier held his weapon snuggly against his side. Na'Thernal knew these mechanical soldiers were part of the defensive force of the Silo. They didn't present an threat in this dormant state and would not in any case attack anyone carrying a Dolan, But he did feel some discomfort, this was directly linked to the fact that the first such hall he had encountered had its compliment of soldiers removed, on closer inspection, even here in this hall not all the capsules contained a soldier, perhaps some were out on patrol or perhaps undertaking some other task, he couldn't help thinking that perhaps a compliment of these soldiers had left in the machine that flew out from the Silo a few hours earlier, it was certainly large enough to house a fair number. A sudden noise made him turn quickly and look down the length of the hall, a mechanical grinding noise had started. Na'Thernal swiftly moved to one side of the hall and stepped backwards into an empty capsule that once held a soldier. He peered out cautiously. A large door was opening at the far end of the hall. He dodged back into the capsule as two figures stepped through the door and into the chamber. Both figures were short in height and wore what looked like thick plate armour. They had weapons slung across their back. The figure knew what these figures were, they were Grûndén. He thought back to his witness of the machine descending the safety cistern. It was confirmed then, not only were there other T'Iea here, but now Grûndén also, so it was after all a Keeper that he saw at the controls of the machine. He lent back against the wall of the capsule chamber and thought. The combined races, they are here!

The next time he looked out from the capsule, he could see that the large door through which the Grûndén had entered remained open, but he couldn't see the two soldiers anywhere, neither could he hear them. So quietly removing himself from the capsule the T'Iea walked slowly down the hall towards the door. When it started to close he decided in a split second that it would be better to risk going through rather than be trapped in the hall and then have to open the door again alerting the two Grûndén soldiers to his presence, he decided Grûndén or not he felt he should not reveal himself to any of the combined races, at least not yet. Possibly it was the smug look on the face of the Keeper in the machine, but he just knew something was not quite right here. He ran, sprinting for the rapidly closing door and just managed to slip through before a loud clang heralded its closing. There was nothing or no one on the other side. He found himself in a low but wide corridor, he moved silently forward cautiously gathering confidence as he went. He could hear nothing to concern him, in fact the whole place was in deathly silence.

Suddenly out of the gloom he came across another doorway. Encouraged by the general silence in this part of the Silo, he placed the Dolan in its receptacle and the doorway opened with a hiss. He carefully moved forward and looked through into the darkness. He could feel a vast openness; he sensed a very large chamber lay beyond. But there was something else, some presence, some-thing equally vast lay within the chamber, he could feel its brooding.

Mechanical sounds echoed through the chamber, lights started to illuminate down its length. This chamber was indeed vast. There was light shining here, but the light did not fully illuminate the chamber. The light did not shine down to where they stood for a long shape hovered above the floor filling most of the chamber. The T'Iea recognised it, it was identical to the machine that they had witnessed the Keeper flying out of the silo. In many places large platforms were lowered from the belly of the beast, he could see the hydraulics that lowered these platforms downwards. Curious he walked to the nearest. As he rounded the end he could see that each of the platforms had set within them capsules, the same shape and size as he had seen those mechanical soldiers enter, back in the large room. So, this was where they came from. His suspicions were confirmed, this vessel was obviously some kind of transport for the soldiers. He walked down the length of the hull of the machine and counted twenty such lowered platforms. Suddenly with a hissing sound the platforms started to be drawn up into the machine once more. The T'Iea toyed with the idea of jumping aboard one to gain entry into the machine, but he hesitated and his chance passed.

He looked around. There were far less hiding places now. If anyone were to walk down the length of the hall he would be clearly seen. He took a deep breath and carried on walking silently down the large chamber staying beneath the hull of the flying machine.

About halfway along the machines length, he heard voices from above him. He slowed, whoever was talking could not see him because he was out of sight beneath the machine, but what slowed him was the fact that whoever talked was using the common language of the combined races, the language his father had taught him when he was a child. When the T'Iea was sure he was directly at the point along the chamber were the voices were talking, he risked a look out and up the side of the vast machine. He found himself below some kind of bridge or gantry. It connected the side of the chamber with the hull of the beast. Some kind of gangway to gain access to the machine no doubt. He walked beneath the gantry to where he could now make out the voices more clearly. They discussed something about the recent capture of a T'Iea woman. They were concerned that her capture and incarceration in the prison cells may spark an attempt to rescue her and that those in command upon the star ship would send an army. They sounded disgruntled at someone called Borhran perhaps keeping her here for his own purposes, the discussion went on to describe the sordid purposes in great detail. What had happened. Had the elder races divided? Had the other races, or at least the Grûndén and Keepers sided against the T'Iea? The T'Iea made up his mind to rescue the T'Iea female before this Borhran or anyone else could perpetrate any such debased acts. After all even though he did not know her she was one of his race and would undoubtedly be sympathetic towards him especially if he rescued her. She may have all the answers to his questions. He hadn't been in the company of one of his own for many generations of mankind. He made his way back beneath the Leviathan and towards the still open door at the far end of the hall. Once outside he could hopefully get his bearings and make his way to the security holding cells, which he assumed the voices were referring to as the location of the T'Iea woman.

Borhran was still smiling remembering the wonderful look of shock on the T'Iea's face as he stared at him through the transparent hull of the Leviathan. He couldn't deny seeing the figure climbing the stairs that led up to the halls of the Silo was quite a shock. He had stopped the machine and rendered the hull transparent so he could see the figure with his own eyes. The figure had stopped and removed the hood that covered the head. Borhran was even more shocked to see a T'Iea standing there staring at him. But it was no T'Iea Borhran recognised, no one he had met before he was sure of that. His first instinct was to attack the man, for he couldn't be up to any good, yet he had stayed his hand, just in case he supposed it was one of Gh'Er'T's followers, but he couldn't think why this T'Iea was here, but then perhaps Gh'Er'T had sent the fellow to disperse the shroud and had just neglected to tell Borhran. But now he flew the Leviathan vertically up the cistern. How convenient that the T'Iea must have dispersed the shroud and emptied the cistern of water, he would not need to use the Dolan he had gotten from Petré after all and he would not need to expend useful energy getting rid of the shroud himself. His machine would soon be loose upon this world of men. Borhran felt smug as he celebrated the success of his plans so far. He turned his attentions to the machine in which he now flew as it came free of the confines of the Cistern and out into the open world of the desert. He was amazed at how easy it was to operate. The Pnook had done an excellent job of designing the machine exactly to his specification; he could fly it and operate it easily on his own. Within minutes he was out in the open air and still ascending he looked out over the meadow of flowers that covered the interior of the valley inside the wall. He brought the machine to a halt in its ascent and hovered there above the colourful spectacle below. He wasn't looking at the view outside though; his attention was taken with a mapping screen on the navigational desk. He scanned the map below him; he could see the wall that surrounded him and the desert beyond. His fingers ran over the map and it zoomed out as if the craft in which he flew rose quickly, high into the air. He traced his fingers over the map to the east, then he again stroked the surface of the map and selected a place that lay on the far eastern continent of the world. He stabbed his finger at the point and a number of words and numbers appeared on the screen. He smiled.

## Chapter 48. The Leviathan Escapes

The Ognod chieftain looked up into the sky, a great machine of some sort had risen out of the ground in the centre of the Silo. He gave orders to his men. They followed, walking around the meadow just inside the main entrance from the Desert outside. The T'Iea commander, T'D'Annu'Elle had set him this task weeks ago, tasked him and his men with protecting his daughter and the human secretly. They had arrived a few days before T'D'Annu'Elle's daughter and her human companion, they had hidden away in the entrance tunnel that led to the desert beyond. T'D'Annu'Elle had not wanted his daughter to know that he had sent a force to look after her. So far it this task had been boring in the extreme, he could tell his men were bored they had started bickering amongst themselves. The T'Iea commander had also wanted to ensure protection from any war drones that may have detected the lowered shroud and decide to take advantage and attack. But it was a pointless task for they all knew the drones had been captured and this task was just insurance. He only hoped that something may happen soon to alleviate their boredom. The most exciting thing to happen so far had been the arrival and subsequent disappearance of T'D'Annu'Elle's daughter and her human companion down the cistern in the centre of the valley. Since then his men had been holed up out of sight in the entrance tunnel to the meadow that led to the desert outside.

Suddenly a gentle humming could be heard and something long and large came out from the cistern. They watched the underside of the machine as it rose above them. He and his men all exited the tunnel to look at whatever was before them. The machine stopped its accent and slowly descended until it looked although it rested upon the ground.

Borhran looked through the viewing scopes at the ground below him. He saw many armed and armoured figures, tall figures, big men. He smiled at his realisation, Ognods. So D'Annu'Elle had seen fit to surround the meadow. He counted about forty of the large soldiers. He said out loud. "So, this will provide a good test for my army, let us see what they can do against a force of Ognods." When he was six hundred metres from the Ognod party he commanded the Leviathan to descend to disembarkation height. He walked across to another control desk and flicked a switch. Lights and dials became illuminated on the desk. He quickly touched the surface of the desk in three places, he smiled as an oblong indicator with two lines of red dots along its longer sides illuminated where he had touched. He touched another button and in turn each red dot turned green on each of the three indicators. Borhran whispered to himself, "come my children, awake. It is time to see what you can do for me." He concentrated and touched various buttons on the screen. When he was satisfied, his finger hovered over one last button. He smiled as if taking in this moment, savouring it so that he ensured he would remember it forever. Then he pushed the button. The rows of green indicators started to flash orange.

The Ognods continued to watch as the machine hovered close above the ground. Three large platforms had descended downwards from the belly of the machine. Each platform held what looked like rows of heavily armoured soldiers. They watched as each platform lowered close to the ground and clamps holding the soldiers in place swung out. The soldiers one by one stepped out onto the ground, they seemed to act in unison it reminded him of mechanical movement. They had slit eyes and a slit mouth, from this distance the Ognod chieftain could make out a fair amount of detail, he could certainly see the red glow that came from each of the soldiers slit eyes making him think even more that these were mechanical beings. But then the soldiers seemed to take up individual stances, some flexed fingers, others turned their heads independently. The Ognod frowned, so perhaps these weren't machines after all but some kind of strange armoured being's that they did not have any knowledge of. The Ognod chieftain gave a grunt. His men formed ranks each had a wide grin upon their faces, the large canine teeth of their lower jaws all showed in a fearsome smile. With a metallic swishing they all drew their weapons. The chieftain looked at their grim eyes through their helmets and he stood proud. So they may have some fun after all. Suddenly one soldier moved forward until he stood in front and with a wave of his arm the all started to run towards the Ognod position. The Ognod chieftain snarled and with a cry shouted "YESSSSS! Form up, fire at will!"

The Ognods lined up in front of the rapidly advancing soldiers that had dropped from the belly of the machine, large crossbow like devices in their hands, the quarrels of which were about the size of a short spear in T'Iea terms. The Ognod chieftain raised his weapon and backed up so that he was in line with his men. He heard the thwomp as his men released the bolts from their weapons. All the bolts struck, but none seemed to penetrate the armour of the attacking force. The chieftain still expected the soldiers to fall as the second wave of bolts was released, but they kept coming on until eventually as one they raised their various weapons and accelerated towards the thin line of the Ognods. The chieftain ran forward his favourite war cry on his breath, his men all cried in unison echoing his cry. The heavy missiles from the cross bows behind them sang once more over their heads. The chieftain watched as several of the quarrels again bounced off their targets, but at this closer distance the momentum of the strike nocked the soldier sideways, one or two were stopped temporarily in their tracks, but they soon regained their balance and resumed the charge. One quarrel however did find its mark, an obvious weakness in the armour just beneath the arm of one of the oncoming soldiers. The quarrel stuck there as the soldier came to a stop and started shuddering and shaking. The red eyes glowed redder and brighter and the soldier fell to its knees. Bright fiery sparks fell from where the quarrel had hit, the soldiers breast plate seemed to glow red and suddenly with a dull thud his chest seemed to explode outwards the chieftain heard something hit his armour, he looked down as a blob of molten material ran down his breastplate until it solidified. He smiled and shouted a triumphant cry.

The Ognods wielding the crossbows behind all saw the effect that one shot had on the oncoming army, they reloaded quickly and as one shot at the exposed underarms of the soldiers. Several found a similar mark and a number of the attacking force went down in the same way. One soldier seemed to explode dramatically in a gush of flame and debris; the force of the explosion also took down his comrades to either side of him. But within seconds the attacking force was upon the Ognods. The Ognods behind dropped their crossbows and leapt forward, as they did so they withdrew swords and maces as they joined their comrades battling the oncoming force.

Borhran had ascended once more after he had deployed his soldiers. He flew high over the advancing force. He could see the Ognods preparing themselves for battle. He snarled for he knew that the Ognods would be looking forward to a fight, they were that kind of people - primitive. He watched his soldiers advance, saw the Ognod chieftain walk forward probably to try and find out what was going on. He saw his forces attack. He also saw the first of his soldiers go down, he frowned in disappointment, was there a flaw in the design? A few more of his soldiers then fell in the same way, a large explosion heralded the demise of one. But then the battle changed to close quarters, hand to hand fighting. He smiled as he perceived the superiority of his force. The Ognods battled bravely, they always did, they managed to hit his soldiers many times but their armour was thick and they shrugged off the blows that the Ognods made. Borhran knew the strength of the Ognods, each of their blows could have cut a keeper such as himself clean in half, yet his army seemed to be shrugging off such strikes. Yet some of the Ognods did seem to be halting his force. He smiled again as the first Ognod fell under the onslaught, but the Ognod on either side of him moved in front of their fallen comrade and filled the gap he had left. Borhran flew the craft until it hovered directly above where the battle raged.

The Ognod chieftain sneered and growled he swung his great sword untiringly at his opponents. He was enjoying this, it had been far too long since his last battle. He growled as the Ognod to his left was decapitated, the blood of his comrade splashed across the side of his helmet and his breastplate. He cried out in anger and struck the shoulder of the metal soldier in front of him, once more his blow was deflected by the soldier's strong armour. He remembered the first stages of the fight and continued to take a more defensive stance, warding off the heavy blows from his adversary. He bided his time. Then the metal soldier raised his sword above his head, as quick as lightning the Ognod chieftain stepped forward and lunged his long sword inwards and under the arm. To his satisfaction the sword continued inwards, he could feel its satisfying passage deep into the metal soldiers body, he felt the crunching of what he thought was sinew and bone as he twisted the blade before trying to pull it out once more. The metal soldier started to shake, the chieftain tried to withdraw his sword but it was stuck fast. So he left it and withdrew, just as the metal soldier's chest exploded in sparks and hot pieces of metal. The chieftain howled in the joy at his success. When the soldier lay prone upon the ground he searched for his sword. There it lay beneath the soldier's dead body. He reached down and grasped the hilt and pulled hard. But he almost fell off balance, he was expecting the sword to take some force to pull from the body, but it came out as if it just lay upon the ground. The chieftain looked at what remained of his sword in disbelief. He held the hilt and a short length of the blade. Most of the blade seemed to have been dissolved, his sword had melted inside the body of the soldier as it had died.

Borhran watched the battle progress on a glass screen. He felt a little disappointed that his force was not being more successful. But he told himself that they were fighting Ognods after all. Ognods represented the worst force he could have possibly chosen for this test, they were the strongest of foes and they loved war and battle. So he told himself that of his soldiers could win this fight then they could probably win any. He smiled for they were certainly giving a good account of themselves, probably even winning all be it slowly. After an hour or so, only a few Ognods were left standing, the chieftain and a handful of his soldiers. He waited to see if the Ognods would surrender, but of course he knew they would not. That wasn't their way. He watched for a few more minutes and then he went across the control room to a little dispenser, he poured himself a glass of cool clear water and took a sip. He moved across to the main control desk and sat down. He turned a dial and slowly the hull and deck at the front of the Leviathan became translucent and then clear. He looked down and could clearly see the remaining warriors below fighting. Only the Ognod chieftain and one Ognod warrior remained now. They stood back to back fighting Borhran's metal army. Borhran smiled as the Ognod soldier went down under a crushing blow from his soldier's mace. Blood soaked into the earth from beneath the fallen Ognods helmet. Borhran watched with interest as the Ognod chieftain raised what was left of his sword in defence. Borhran smiled in amusement as he leant on one of the control consoles and pushed a button. Borhran smiled as his remaining soldiers withdrew from the fight. He was pleased, their emotionless personas meant they obeyed all his commands perfectly, even the recall one.

The Ognod chieftain breathed heavily, he looked around him at his fallen comrades. They were all dead he knew, only he remained. He prepared himself for the inevitable. But then to his surprise the enemy force withdrew. They all backed away from him. His anger flared in his breast and he ran forward and struck the nearest soldier. His broken blade deflected off the heavy armour and the soldier didn't even flinch. The chieftain picked up a fallen soldiers weapon and tried several more times against a number of the soldiers; they each of them ignored his attack. The chieftain cried out in his anger and frustration, he stopped helpless. They were retreating. Why? Again the chieftain's anger flared and he once more bellowed his war cry as he ran forward to press home his attack. But before he reached the line of metal soldiers a deafening rattling sound was heard. The earth in front of the chieftain erupted in what looked like a series of small explosions. Grit and plant material filled his eyes and mouth, he coughed and tried to see where his enemy were now positioned. When the explosions eventually cleared he saw them walking away, back the way they had come towards the machine that had now come back down and lowered the platforms once more no doubt to pick up the soldiers that remained. The chieftain cried out, taunted them to return to fight and not to run like the cowards they were. They did not turn, instead the chieftain in his incensed anger ran after them once again. But again came the deafening sound and once again he was forced to move backwards as the ground in front of him again erupted into an impenetrable wall of stifling dirt and dust.

When this had cleared the Ognod chieftain looked in the direction of his retreating enemy, they could not be seen. They had retreated back into the machine which now was rising again back up into the sky. Every time he tried to move forward the machine above him fired a massive volley from its projectile weapons effectively stopping him. He was mad with anger, how dare they herd him like some animal, stop him from achieving the glory of death. He shouted obscenity after obscenity but to no avail. Eventually the machine flew off. The chieftain made to follow. He went through the gateway that led into the Silo and out onto the open desert. He reached the top of a dune and stood looking in the direction the machine had flown. He watched as the machine flew onward gathering speed as it went.

In one last attempt at abating his frustration he threw his sword with all his might in the direction the machine had gone. After a while he walked back into the Silo and towards his fallen comrades. He found an Ognod sword and with a grim expression on his face set about performing the ritual burial that befitted his men's bravery and honour. When he had finished he looked at the burning mound of bodies and then at the row of heads lying nearby on the sand. Only one job remained now, he would make sure that these faces remained on view forever, for all to remember and to relish the bravery of his men for they died as they should in open and honourable battle. He placed the last head on the rock shelf in the tunnel, he uttered a prayer and then turned and walked out into the desert. He did not choose a direction just walked, he did not look back.

## Chapter 49. TeraT'Inu'Itil

Borhran arrived over the Rift. He viewed the causeway that now spanned the large rend in the worlds surface through which the arcane energy spewed out of the Rift. There, midway along the causeway he could quite easily see the large black keystone, it looked ominous, like a massive sarcophagus, the last resting place of a king or emperor. He smiled at the analogy, perhaps he could have such a final place when and if his time ever came. He brought the Leviathan to a halt his eyes remained fixed upon the stone, whereas the energy from the Rift had previously spewed forth uncontrolled into the upper atmosphere of the world, now the energy entered the stone in a neat stream and nothing came back out again. The sun shone down in a blue sky unhindered by the arcane power spreading out above the Rift. He hoped that its production had gone to plan and the right configuration that he himself had designed was now embedded in the memory of the stone. It certainly looked impressive. It shone, glistened with a dark mirror-like finish a faintly glowing corona of prismatic light shone forth, the effect it had upon the arcane forces made them glow where they came into close proximity with the dense, gravity-distorting block of mineral.

He smiled and his attention once more was set upon the controls of the Leviathan machine. Now was the time to put this all to the test. See if his theories and calculations were correct and he and his helpers could successfully create a portal large enough to get the Leviathan through. He instructed the machine to reduce its altitude. He touched a control and all of the cabin windows around the complete front of the machine became transparent; he wanted a good view of what was about to happen. Through the crystalline windows he could see the T'Iea mage, the one called Gh'Er'T along with several other T'Iea now walking up the span towards the portal stone. One of Gh'Er'T's arms hung limply by his side as if he had broken the limb or something. Borhran wondered what the mage had been up to. But then Borhran frowned, for around the Rift amongst the machinery the Pnook had placed there where many Pnook bodies. So Gh'Er'T had taken it upon himself to try and stop the Pnook from taking control of the Rift. He frowned, these Pnook where Borhran's men, but why should he worry, everything looked like it had worked, after all the arcane energy seemed to be flowing nicely though the great key stone.

He thought about landing the craft. Of personally congratulating Gh'Er'T, but now he wasn't sure if he should. If Gh'Er'T had acted on his own once, perhaps then he may try to take the craft from Borhran. No he would not land, he wanted to get this next stage in his plan over and done with as quickly as possible, he was anxious to proceed and he felt he no longer trusted Gh'Er'T as an ally. The Rift had held some form of intelligence, he also knew that this intelligence trusted Gh'Er'T for some reason, perhaps they had allied even further, but that was not Borhran's concern, all he knew was that the collaboration between Gh'Er'T and the entity within the Rift allowed him to utilise the necessary energy to create this portal. After all that was the exact same reason that Gh'Er'T valued his alliance with him, he had agreed to create other portals if Gh'Er'T so wished. He watched as Gh'Er'T lent forward, placing both hands upon the keystone. The prismatic colouring that surrounded the stone seemed to flow over and around Gh'Er'T, once the mage was encased within this corona the air started to shimmer around him and expand outwards from the stone towards the space above it and around it. This expansion continued and eventually a darkness, a black hole appeared at its very centre directly above the stone. Slowly at first the darkness spread in an ever widening circle out from around its epicentre. Then it started to expand further until the top of the dark circle almost reached the same altitude as the Leviathan. Borhran looked at the machines indicators, he was flying at a height of eighty metres. This was good. Yes, this was excellent.

He flew the Leviathan around and dropped down until the machine was directly in front of the centre of the dark circle. He scrutinised the vast portal. It seemed to be very stable. Tantalisingly he could see through and what he saw made his heart leap. The view on the other side was definitely the sanctuary of the Keepers, TeraT'Inu'Itil. He moved the Leviathan forward slowly.

Gh'Er'T watched as the great machine approached the portal, until its front end touched the darkness and entered the portal and disappeared. Then the machine accelerated forward and was soon gone from view. He had no way of knowing if the portal was successful, at least not from this side, but he assumed that the journey had been successful. If it wasn't a success, why should he care anyway? He had completed his part in the bargain, done what he had agreed with the Keeper Borhran. It was no concern of his what the keeper Borhran was going to do with the machine on the other side. All he wanted was the agreement that Borhran could place other destination coordinates into the stone so that the Entity and himself could access other places of their choice. To Gh'Er'T this was just an experiment, a test as to the functionality of the great key stone and its ability to store portal capability. He sneered at the reducing portal until it had disappeared. He stood tall and took in a deep breath, he was the Gatekeeper; his new master had given him the title. He was the Entity's most trusted disciple. That was all that mattered to him now.

Borhran kept a close watch on the instruments before him. The flight was stable. The only confusion was coming from the navigational desk, it was bleeping warnings at him. He knew why, the navigational controls did not understand what was happening. It thought it knew where it was, but going through the portal had changed all that, the technology didn't have a clue now where it was or where it was going. Borhran laughed to himself, it amused him that he had fooled the Pnook technology, it made him feel in control. But daylight flooded into the control cabin from outside and his attention was taken away from the still bleeping control systems. Once the machine was through the portal he once again brought it to a halt and smiled. There before him was a was a heavily forested jungle. Water vapour hung low over the tops of the trees and gently swirled down into the valleys below. He sighed, he was there, the portal had been successful. He drank in the view, it had been a while since he had last been here, his efforts and plans had kept him away. It felt good in many ways to be back, even though he was here for a specific reason and not as a mere citizen, but yes, it did feel good to be once more within TeraT'Inu'Itil. But this prodigal son was not here to beg for forgiveness and the hospitality of his people, at least not yet. No he was here to put many wrongs to right and he had the power to do it.

He could not set a course into the navigational controls of the Leviathan, he smiled at the irony, he was a navigator, yet the machine he navigated would not function correctly here in the voids, he would have to navigate manually. Yet that was not a problem, he was in the one place he knew better than any other. He took the manual controls with a newfound determination and turned the machine in the right direction then after a deep breath he moved the machine forward.

It wasn't long before he could see the city in the distance; make out the tall pyramid in its centre. The place of his learning. Everything he knew had started there in that building, his childhood education. Everything else he understood from the library in the city within the star ship. Well, this was a good place to start, perhaps his ambitions would take him back to the star ship eventually, perhaps he could master that as well. He chastised himself, over ambition would be his enemy if he wasn't careful, he told himself that one task at a time was the way. After he had sealed TeraT'Inu'Itil for himself he would have an eternity to make other plans and further any ambitions he had. He would have eternity to wait.

But now he was nearing the city of his people. He walked to the weapons desk and powered up a number of the projectile weapons turrets that lined each side of the machine. He hoped he didn't need them, he didn't relish the thought of killing any of his people, but if necessary a short demonstration of the power of his machine, an undeniable show of force should be enough. There were so few of them, any deaths would be undesirable, if he was to rule, he needed people to rule over. He now hovered above the temple grounds, some people looked upwards shielding their eyes from the glare of the sun. Borhran flicked a switch and spoke.

Down on the ground the people heard a loud voice, a commanding voice. It ordered them to terminate all portal activity in and out of TeraT'Inu'Itil immediately. It also spoke of how they had been fooled, how they had been used by others, and how rightfully they were the superior race in intellect and the rightful race to rule. Then it ordered that the Grand Master be brought forth before the machine that hung above them. But no one went to fetch the Grand Master it wasn't necessary.

The Grand Master had appeared out of the temple with a retinue of temple guards. "What is the meaning of this? Who seeks to command these people, I am the grand Master, it is not for you to make demands unless it is through me!"

The voice from the machine laughed, then said, "I agree Grand Master, you are correct. Well perhaps I may make a request from you?"

The Grand Master replied in an aloof manner. "I will hear you, but be warned I may not agree with your request."

The voice from above said, "oh come now Grand Master, it is a simple request, not one that will tax you or course you any angst, of that I can assure you."

The Grand Master looked expectant. He watched as the vast machine descended, as it did so a circular panel opened in its other wide featureless hull and a set of spiral steps descended from within the machine. At the same time another panel, a much larger one also came down out of the belly of the machine. He watched as this larger section approached ground level. He was surprised to see what looked like a great number of heavily armoured soldiers lining the inside. Once the section had stopped, this complement of soldiers seemed to wake up and step from the platform which after discharging its contents rose back up into the machine once more. The Grand Master's attention was then taken with a lone figure coming down the spiral stairs that had lowered first. He gasped, he recognised the figure stepping out onto the ground, it was Borhran the current navigator of the star ship. As Borhran stepped of the last step the soldiers that had until now been stationary walked forward in formation until they stood behind Borhran. Two of them stepped forward and stood immediately to either side of the Keeper navigator, they looked like a personal guard. The Grand Masters own personal guard he noticed where becoming agitated and alert.

The Grand Master frowned, "Master Borhran, you come with foreign soldiers into your homeland, I hardly think this is a social visit. What is it you seek?" The two personal guard either side of the Grand Master drew weapons.

Borhran was walking towards him, one hand held out in greeting, the other concealed within his robes. His two soldiers also walked forward.

The people watched as the two clasped hands in greeting. It all seemed friendly enough until Borhran made a sudden quick movement, no one saw what it was, all they saw witnessed was a gasp from the Grand Master and an expression of surprise upon his face. At the same time the two soldiers either side of Borhran stepped forward and drew weapons. The Keeper guards of the Grand Master had already rained a couple of blows upon Borhran's soldiers but they didn't seem to notice, their armour seemed to deflect every blow that the Keeper guards made. Both Keeper guards didn't stand a chance against the heavy weapons of Borhran's soldiers. They both fell backwards beheaded. Borhran let go of the Grand Masters robes, the Grand Master slowly slid to the ground his eyes remained looking at Borhran until he lay prone upon the ground blood seeping from beneath his clothing. Borhran looked down at the Grand Master, a blooded dagger in his hand.

Borhran looked around at the assembled faces of his people. "There is a new regime starting as of now, one that will render our people greatness and much recognition. We will no longer be the pawns of the combined races, we will elevate ourselves to be the master race." Borhran bent down, he reached towards the Grand Master's body and after moving some loose material aside he stood back up grasping something. He reached back down and tore some material from the Grand Masters robes and wrapped whatever he had picked up before in this cloth and started to rub gently, cleaning whatever he held. When he was satisfied he discarded the cloth and raising his hands he placed the heavy pendant, the badge of office of the Grand Master around his own neck. Then he stood staring at the faces around him.

Borhran smiled, at last he was getting somewhere, making some real progress, it was a wonderful feeling that all his hard worked, all his plans were coming to fruition. This was to be his role from now on, he was the Grand Master of his people. He would lead them into prosperity. Who knows what they may also become in the future. It may take a while to get to a point where there were enough of them to make a difference but what a difference! In the meantime he would work his will here in TeraT'Inu'Itil and wait. The Pnook within the Silo would make other machines, one other was already complete, when ready he would have a force to be taken very seriously.

Borhran stopped smiling, the people in front of him no longer stared at him, their attention was on something else, he turned slowly just in time to witness the spiral steps that had lowered from the Leviathan raise silently back into the underside of the machine even as the machine rose upwards. As this happened the machine turned slowly and began to move back towards the still open portal through which it had come, it was so big it was visible across the tree tops even from here. He stared in disbelief as the Leviathan machine flew back over the jungle and disappeared back through the portal. As soon as it had gone through, the portal closed. At first he could not believe what he witnessed, but then a cry left his mouth and undeniable rage rose in his breast he cried out in great anger. When his anger had abated and clearer thoughts invaded his mind once more he was aware that many faces stared at him. He looked around aware that he was crouching upon the ground with clenched fists. He rose slowly. Forced his fists to open and made an attempt to brush the dust from his clothing. No one made any move, but he knew they wouldn't, for one they had witnessed the strength of his soldiers and he had twenty or so still here. But what he had just done was a lawful act. He had just performed the last remaining primeval law still allowed within the constitution of his people. It was true no succession to the position of Grand Master had been made in this way for several millennia, but never the less it was still a lawful method, it had not been struck from the statute books, he had been careful to check. He drew himself up and regaining his composure said in a slightly faltering voice, "I claim ascension by right of force. Then with more confidence as he remembered the two Startmektoken guards that stood to either side and slightly behind him. "Witnessed here by a majority. I claim succession to Grand Master."

For a while the people were silent, but then they seemed to come to a realisation and as one they cried out loudly. "Hail. Grand Master. Hail!"

Borhran hardly heard them. He was now stuck in his homeland and without the Leviathan machine. This was not what he had planned. But at least the first part of his plan had succeeded. He was in control of TeraT'Inu'Itil. The star ship would be devoid of a navigator. He would see to that. The star ship was going nowhere. The first thing he needed to do was to shut down the portal system between here and the star ship. Then he would wait. The combined races would realise the power he now wielded, they would eventually bow to his control also. In time, they would come round, and time he had plenty of.

Petré's face was grim as he sat at the main control desk in the Leviathan. Now at last he could do something. He controlled possibly the most powerful weapon ever to have been seen by his people. The irony was that the combined races had at last given him their technology. He laughed out loud. Well it was his now and he fully intended to use it. He would show them, and the best part was that he could wreak revenge upon that upstart of a Keeper. He wished he could have seen the look on Borhran's face as he witnessed his war machine going back through the portal abandoning him on the other side.

## Chapter 50. Maiden in Distress

P'Arcerial stirred from her dreams, something had disturbed her sleep. She opened her eyes, but not even her sensitive retinas could pick anything out in the complete darkness inside the cell in which she had been incarcerated. She moved across the floor to where she thought the entrance door to the cell was located. She was rewarded by the touch of cold metal. She pressed her ear against the door and focussed her senses to that of hearing. Feint sounds could be heard outside, that in itself was not unusual. But the continuous banter and arguments that could normally be heard between the two Grûndén guards she could not discern. It was altogether too silent.

Something heavy smashed into the door on the outside, P'Arcerial jumped back. There followed the sound of something metallic scraping down the door and landing heavily on the floor below. She instinctively moved backwards, away from the source of the sound stumbling heavily against the far wall of the cell. Then came the unmistakable click as the lock mechanism on the door was released. The door was pulled open slowly and light flooded into the cell. Shielding her eyes from the brightness with one hand, the other she tensed with pressure against the cold wall ready to spring away quickly if need be. As her eyes adjusted she gathered her balance ready to kick out at any intruder, especially any other Grûndén that saw her as an easy target to satisfy his desires. She smiled as she remembered the last time that had happened, both her guards had quickly learnt that she was no weak female completely at their mercy, they both sported various cuts and bruises following their attempts to subdue her. Grûndén were heavily muscled and had a low centre of gravity due to their short stature, but she was T'Iea, she knew how to use here comparatively weaker muscles and longer limbs to apply power in the right ways. She was still thankful to Borhran that he had made the Grûndén guards remove the immobilising shackles from her wrists, she remembered thinking at the time that he was giving her a chance against any assault that was sure to happen. Why he should do this she didn't know, perhaps he still held a vestige of honour, or some residual feelings of loyalty? Maybe guilt? Anyway she had thanked him and he had stared at her before nodding and smiling. But then he had quickly frowned and turned away, she had sensed some internal struggle going on inside his mind.

She crouched ready. The door opened wide suddenly and more light streamed into the room, before anything could happen she decided to take the initiative and attack. She leapt, her foot kicking out at the height a Grûndén face would have been, but her blow did not connect. Instead, after landing on both feet she rolled forward and leapt through the door of the cell to the guardroom outside. Turning to face any adversary that may have entered the cell she took in her surroundings quickly. To her surprise the two Grûndén guards lay prone and unconscious on the floor, one had been dragged backwards to allow the opening of the cell door. Immediately her attention was taken by a shadow on the inside of the cell door, someone was coming back through. She waited again in a defensive stance, a figure strode out of the cell, he wasn't holding any kind of weapon, so she turned her attention to his face and gasped as she looked at his features, he had her ears, he was a T'Iea, but not a person she recognised, she thought she knew all of her people on the star ship by face and by name, yet she did not recall the features of this one. He looked to be about the same age as her father. He stood there his head cocked slightly to one side.

"I am sorry milady for the rude entrance, but I felt that my assistance was required?"

She was taken aback by the politeness in the voice that asked the question and she found herself nodding. But her answer was, "I do not recognise you, where are you from and how did you get in here, into the silo?"

The T'Iea looked into her eyes and a faint smile dressed his lips. He stood back, P'Arcerial noticed that his clothing was not T'Iea in design, but more like the cloths Petré wore when she first encountered him in the meadow. The man crossed his arms in front of him, with one eyebrow raised he said. "Well that is easy. I used the same method as you did. You see I used to live here."

P'Arcerial was speechless, this was uncanny, how could he claim any truth in his statement, yet he sounded sincere, he did not seem to be lying or trying to conceal anything.

He stepped up to her and introduced himself as Na'Thernal and indicated towards the table where the guards spent most of their time drinking ale and playing Clastitor, the cards were scattered across the table top and some had fallen to the floor.

"Forgive me milady I must first attend to something." As P'Arcerial watched the new comer Na'Thernal dragged the prone forms of the Grûndén into the cell she had just vacated and then closing the door locked it once more.

P'Arcerial waited for him to be seated, he sat across the other side of the table and smiling related his tale to her. "My father was T'Iea my mother human. My father had arrived one day in the meadow above the Silo where my mother and her clan once lived, he was discovered when the Silo was undergoing maintenance. Why he was there he never said, he would only explain to me later that he was left behind by the star ship as one of several secret emissaries of the combined races, their mission to infiltrate and learn from the various human populations around this world."

P'Arcerial was sure that Na'Thernal had never been a part of her star ship, the behaviour Na'Thernal described her own father would not allow, it was one of the first rules of the star ships not to interfere in local populations, something that D'Annu'Elle expressly forbid. But she was aware of the irony in that his own daughter had broken that rule. "So the combined races have been here before, do you know how long ago?"

Na'Thernal shrugged. "I do not know, but my father and I outlived my human mother by many generations. My father's longevity made him wise and a natural leader, but something must have happened to the star ship, its time influence no longer reached us, as a result my father died of old age. I do not know the fate of the star ship, maybe one day it will return for me, but that I doubt as it would have been here long before now if those on board still sought the information my father and his colleagues gathered. I to have aged, but it seems that my T'Iea heritage has still given me unusually long life when compared to the human population. But throughout our presence with the human community, our long life has been questioned, humans feel fear, mistrust, even great anger of things they do not understand. Such behaviour drove the humans in the to disagree. On the one hand there were those who supported my leadership and saw it as a good thing, on the other those who strove to discredit me. Those who were against me gathered together and went into hiding in the Silo. They started to harass and even murder those who supported my leadership. I was forced to utilise every means possible to prevent these attacks, to seek out those murderers, this forced those who opposed me deeper into the lower reaches of the Silo. So deep that they fell under the influence of strange emissions from the great engines that provide power and over the years their minds and bodies became poisoned, they became lesser men, more akin to animals. They succumbed to their hatred and they became changed forever. Apolets we called them, after the name of their original leader. But now they need no leader, they have become like a pack of degenerate mindless creatures. They flourished and gained in numbers even as the human population began to diminish. So through fear of the ever increasing Apolets attacks and the degenerate effect it had on the human population of the Silo, I persuaded the humans to abandon the Silo, at least those that wished to do so. We learned to survive out in the open desert. But recently the war machines patrols have increased and although we remain hidden, I fear I cannot guarantee our safety forever. I was here in the Silo because the arcane shroud that protected it went down and I wanted to know what was going to happen. Once we tried to come back in greater numbers to scavenge, but that was a long time ago but that time we were discovered and attacked, many were killed in the valley above."

P'Arcerial remembered the grisly discovery they made on their arrival in the meadow. She responded. "So what will you do?"

Na'Thernal pursed his lips and thought for a while, "I have never been on board a star ship of the combined races. But I think the main reason I arrived here this time was because I felt I wanted to try and make contact with my father's people."

Na'Thernal was quiet for a while before continuing. "But with the star ship returned I once again will not age as men do, I will stay the way I look now. This the humans will find even stranger to understand. Even though those humans that followed me to the surface bare no ill will towards me at the moment, my un-ageing appearance will likely cause suspicions in successive generations, eventually they will forget our friendship. I will have to leave their company, or suffer the consequences of their suspicions. I think it is time for them to be responsible for their own fate now. With your consent, I would like to return to the star ship, I feel my destiny lies there, back with my own people who will understand me for what I am."

P'Arcerial smiled. "You are most welcome Na'Thernal to return with us, be assured of that. The T'Iea aboard the star ship will welcome you with open arms. You are one of us, we would welcome you home once again."

But then after a minutes silence he said. "What about those of the combined races who now inhabit the Silo? They are building things, machines of war, they seek to reawaken the Silo and most probably use it as a military base."

P'Arcerial sat back, a look of great sadness on her features. "There is one that has fallen into darkness. Borhran is his name. He has been plotting all along. He deceived us, he deceived the human I entered the Silo with, it must have been many months that they colluded, decided to act together, although I now fear that they both have very different goals in mind. I don't know whether Borhran already knew, or suspected that this Silo would be empty. Petré agreed with Borhran to allow him entry. Borhran wanted to build something in secret away from the star ship and this Silo seemed to be the ideal place to do that. But it pains me that Borhran's treachery runs deep. He has many of the combined races in his employ. That is how he gained the necessary expertise to undertake all that he has done."

Na'Thernal looked sad. "That is not all, this Borhran now has control of the army of mechanical warriors that once resided inside this Silo. I do not know for sure, but I think he plans to threaten your world, the star ship. He must be stopped at all costs."

P'Arcerial pursed her lips. "You are correct, these people must be stopped. But I need to go back, back into the Silo to rescue someone."

"The human male you entered the Silo with a few days ago, this Petré?"

P'Arcerial asked the question, "Yes, did you see him within the Silo? He would have been the only one amongst all the rest of the combined races?"

"No. I made my way through the Silo deliberately avoiding contact with anyone. I will go with you, my knowledge of the interior of the Silo and my access capabilities will be needed"

P'Arcerial shook her head. No Na'Thernal, I will go alone, because of my recent treatment and incarceration, I do not believe that anyone here in the Silo will harm me as long as they report to Borhran. They know I am here, I will not be too much of a surprise to any of them. You on the other hand they will not recognise, they will most probably consider you a threat from the star ship and kill you on sight. No, I have another favour to ask of you. You must go to the star ship, warn them of what is happening here and ask they send sufficient men at arms to take back the Silo and capture all who are part of this plot.

Na'Thernal started to protest, but he understood what she was saying so in the end he nodded. He reached up to his neck, holding his collar out of the way he grasped a thin chain and drew it slowly out from beneath his shirt. A small leather bag was tied to the end. He opened the bag and tipped whatever was in there onto his hand. He looked what lay there for some time. "Mornost, this Silo is called." Then holding out his hand he offered whatever was there to P'Arcerial.

P'Arcerial looked into Na'Thernal's open palm, there lay two Dolans, the little disks with the depiction of the slant eyed and slit mouth face upon them. "Thank you, I will take one.

P'Arcerial reached out and one of the Dolans was dropped into her hand. She then looked at the small disk. The slit eyes and mouth depicted upon it told her it was certainly a Dolan. "I thank you Na'Thernal."

Na'Thernal nodded. "But how am I to travel to the star ship?"

"There is a way we can possibly send you to the star ship, but it may be risky."

"I am willing to take this risk."

P'Arcerial walked over to a pile of things upon the floor close by, things the Grûndén guards had removed from her person before throwing her into the cell. She lifted a cloak and beneath lay her quiver of arrows. She returned with two of the arrows. She held one of the arrows out to Na'Thernal. "The energy within this arrow has the capability of transporting anything that falls within its sphere of influence to the prison void where the drones and other machines had been banished, unfortunately my long bow has been taken. But if this arrow is thrown with sufficient force it should still burst especially if it is thrown hard at a solid target like a wall."

Na'Thernal looked closely at the arrow, he turned it thoughtfully between his fingers. "Yes. But from what you say isn't that perhaps where Borhran may have been?"

P'Arcerial nodded. "Borhran would not be foolish enough to enter this void. I am guessing that he opened a new void, one that is hidden from the star ship to send the remaining drones into. I suspect that the original prison void remains untouched by Borhran. The people who monitor the prison void should detect a portal opening, they will be suspicious and investigate. There is a Keeper, Master Gorthun, hopefully he remains true to the Combined races and is not part of Borhran's plans. He will most probably be the one who investigates. If you give him this, he will know from whom it came." P'Arcerial reached back towards her things and picking up her quiver she gave it to him. "It is of no use to me at the moment." P'Arcerial gathered the rest of her belongings. "Do not delay Na'Thernal, Borhran must be stopped and quickly, both the world of the humans and our world depend upon it." She turned and stood in the doorway that led into the main part of the Silo.

Na'Thernal nodded in understanding. He stepped back and with great force threw the arrow at the wall of the chamber. Immediately on impact a portal began to appear. He felt the pull of the portal. P'Arcerial looked at Na'Thernal, he returned her stare and with a grim look he walked towards the portal and was gone.

## Chapter 51. The Leviathan Returns

It was not difficult for Petré to fly the Leviathan back into the Silo. After exiting the portal he had not stopped to figure out what to do next he just flew the machine away as quickly as possible and halted it in the upper atmosphere of the world where he was sure he could not be followed. After familiarising himself with the machines functionality he had discovered that the navigation desk contained a home button. When pressed the machine moved swiftly and navigated itself back to the Silo.

He was wondering how he might drain the cistern. At first he thought he may have to land in the meadow and physically get out and use his Dolan, but that was not the case. When he flew across the wall surrounding the meadow he was surprised to see that the cistern had already begun to drain. It seems that Borhran or the Pnook engineers had found out how the Dolan's worked and had replicated this functionality somehow into a proximity device on board the leviathan itself? The great machine had become some kind of Dolan device in its own right. The machine continued to operate itself and flew down into the cistern and followed the dropping water level until it reached the great entrance door to the Silo. After this opened the machine entered. There was nothing for it but to just sit in the control room and wait for the machine to come to a halt. This it did after it had redocked itself in the hall in which it had originally been built. Petré smiled, Borhran had been so thoughtful, the functionality he had demanded for the machines was clever and simple to operate with minimal pilot intervention, but if an enemy ever gained control of one of them then the potential threat to the original owners was great. Was this bad planning on Borhran's part or was it that he never even thought that capture by an enemy would ever be likely. Anyway it was of no matter, Petré was about to teach them the error of their ways.

He kept the viewing ports darkened, instead he viewed the outside through the viewing screens in the control room of the leviathan. Many of the combined races loyal to Borhran had gathered in the hall, no doubt expecting the return of their master, what a surprise they were about to receive. Petré set about connecting a communications link with the other Leviathan machines that were docked in the other halls around the Silo. He knew that at least two others may be fully functional by now. Sure enough he managed to create a link with two of them. To his great delight one indicated a full complement of soldiers, the other a partial force. Now he was ready. He had already programmed the Startmektoken soldiers in the machine he commanded, a few simple commands issued across the communications channel duplicated that command on the other two machines. The viewing screens told him that his audience outside on the dock were getting a bit impatient, he had been there for some time now and nothing had happened, they were viewing the Leviathan machine with increased suspicion.

He pressed the button and felt the slight jolt that told him the platforms holding the army in the belly of his machine were dropping down, he knew that the same would be happening in the other halls he had made the link to. Ironically the audience outside seemed to brighten up and relax. Another irony perhaps was that this behaviour was expected? Of course, on its return the Leviathans would undoubtedly discharge there armies so that they could return to the recharging station within the Silo so that they could be replenished ready for the next time they were needed. So with a smile Petré sat back down in the soft command chair and watched.

Master Priepen barked orders at the technicians that were looking over the side of the balcony at the Leviathan that had just entered. The machine had slid in silently unannounced, if he had not been in the control rooms performing routine maintenance tasks with his technicians he may never have known of its return. But he was used to Borhran's inconsiderate ways, he knew that the Keeper would not think to announce his arrival. So in his frustration he shouted at the technicians gathered around him on the balcony to stop gawking and begin the unloading sequence, he only hoped that the maintenance would not hold up the docking process. The Pnook technicians ran back into the control rooms to undertake his orders. He turned once more towards the Leviathan machine then walked over to the gangway and pushed a button that would extend the walkway out towards the Leviathan where it would enable the Keeper Borhran to disembark the craft. Priepen watched the gangway extend out and waited at the far end ready to welcome Borhran off the machine. He felt some trepidation, was the test flight successful? Would Borhran be pleased with the design? Did it fit all his expectations? Well Priepen was in no doubt, he was about to find out.

As the embarkation platforms halted the Startmektoken soldiers stepped forward off the platforms. Most of them turned and marched towards the now open doors at the far end of the Leviathan hall that would take them back to their recharging stations. But a small contingent turned the other way and marched towards the metal stair way that led to the control rooms above. Priepen watched with some fascination as they climbed up the metal stairway and out onto the viewing platform where he stood waiting for Borhran to come through the still closed personnel door mounted in the side of the Leviathan machine. Priepen was very surprised that a number of soldiers had come up and were dispersing around the platform, a number of them walked down the corridor that led to the control rooms themselves where his technicians should be hard at work, what was Borhran thinking? Priepen stared at one soldier that had stood its ground and was now returning Priepen's stare. Priepen frowned, what was happening? He started to walk towards the soldier, but when the soldier drew a big broad sword from across its back and moved with lengthening strides towards him, he stopped and started to back away. He only stopped when his back bumped up against the rails of the viewing platform. He instinctively turned to look at what he had bumped into. When he turned back he saw the large broad sword dropping down towards him. It was the last thing he ever saw. The last sound he heard were the screams of his dying technicians.

Sometime later Petré disembarked the Leviathan out of the door that led to the still extended gangway. He looked down at the pile of bloody rags that had once been the Pnook overseer, Master Priepen. He relished the feeling within him. For the first time he felt satisfaction, he had a sense of fulfilment, revenge was at last his. He had been watching the monitor screens in the Leviathan, watched the progress of his army through the Silo killing as they went. The combined races had put up a good fight, quite a number of his soldiers had been killed, he frowned, perhaps destroyed would be a better word, he still couldn't bring himself to think upon the Startmektoken as sentient beings. He suddenly felt a nauseous feeling in his stomach. He had used machines of destruction against a biological foe, he had done exactly as the master of the drones had done. But he convinced himself that he was not to blame, after all they were designed to protect the Silo, he had just used them in the service of his people. They had done their job, they had almost completed the task he had set them, to wipe out all resistance of Borhran's followers, to erase their presence from within the Silo. The Silo would soon belong to him, belong to the human race once again. He had demonstrated to them that humanity was once again a force to be taken very seriously. He knew that by the time he reached the living quarters within the Silo, the Startmektoken would have all returned to their charging stations for a well-earned rest and regeneration. He didn't know whether they would be needed in the near future, but something told him that Borhran, or others amongst the combined races, would not sit idly by after suffering such a great defeat.

P'Arcerial was trying to find Petré. She had looked everywhere, at least all the places she knew. It had not been easy for Borhran's people seemed to be everywhere. But to her surprise they didn't seem to be doing anything under any strict orders, but rather doing whatever they liked. She had seen some ransacking rooms and buildings in the living quarters. Pnook technicians were no longer working on anything in particular, rather many had been going over every piece of machinery they could find, groups of them discussed technical issues all over the Silo. Grûndén miners seemed to be excavating wherever they wished. Grûndén soldiers were drinking heavily and fighting amongst themselves, a sure sign that they were becoming very bored. It was these she feared the most, she shivered at the thought of being captured by any, especially as she was becoming more and more suspicious that any form of command and leadership no longer existed within the Silo. She strongly suspected that Borhran was no longer able to keep any semblance of order, perhaps he didn't care. She wished she could find Petré sooner than later.

Then one day she was raiding food supplies from a store, such places it seemed were no longer guarded, such was the lack of discipline. She had just filled her bag when she suddenly heard a great din of noise. She pocked her head through the entrance door, the noise was coming along the corridor and seemed to be getting nearer. She thought about exiting and running in the opposite direction but before she could make a decision several Grûndén soldiers ran around a corner and headed along the corridor towards her. They were shouting obscenities and they had their weapons drawn. She ducked back into the store room and closed the door carefully not to make a noise. Just as she did so she heard the clash of weapons and the cries of battle. She felt sad, had it come to this that the Grûndén were now fighting amongst themselves and by the sound they were no longer playing at it. The noises she could still hear were those of a serious fight to the death. She had been around Grûndén soldiery long enough to know when they were engaged in a full on fight. After a while when the shouts and screams had died down she plucked up nerve to open the door just a chink. Luckily the door opened away from where the noises were emanating so she could see through the smallest of cracks without fear of detection. She was shocked to see many Grûndén soldiers lay in the corridor. The amount of blood running along the floor towards her told her that they were all slain. Beyond them larger forms could also be seen lying still upon the floor. She listened intently but could hear nothing so she opened the door and stepped out into the corridor. Walking towards the Grûndén she counted ten of the soldiers. Whatever had assailed them must have been a tremendous force, for she knew any Grûndén soldier would be extremely difficult to overcome. Certainly no Pnook could ever do it, exoskeleton armour or not. Certainly no Keeper could either. The only race that may stand a chance was her own or the Ognods, and she suspected that neither of those races were here or had entered the Silo, she was sure she would have come across them by now. It was only when she got closer that she realised some other soldiers lay there dead, several of them, much larger figures. Flashes of light could be seen coming from a number of these, sparks she thought just like the spark from a flint being struck by metal. But on a much grander scale, many flashes jumped between wounds in the soldiers bodies, some sparks even jumped between the bodies. Sometimes they jerked as if some residue of life remained within them. She had seen enough, if something else was now attacking the Silo, something she did not recognise, it was possibly a better idea to hide out somewhere, go to ground until hopefully Na'Thernal arrived with a military force of strength. Then she would be in a better position to look for Petré, she only hoped that he too had gone to ground somewhere.

## Chapter 52. Invasion of the Silo

The dry air shimmered as it rose high over the desert sands heated by the midday sun. It gusted around some point high above the sands as if something was trying to force its way into the space that the air occupied. The compressed air moved outward like a silent explosion, strong winds took up the fine red sand and carried it around in great dark clouds. Sand storms blew in ever increasing ferocity until the landscape for many kilometres around was hidden from view by vast dust clouds. The walls of the cistern protected the meadow within to an extent, but the plants and flowers blew around in an uncommonly swift wind. It grew dark, the sun was obscured by the clouds of dust but also something more solid was increasingly obscuring the light from reaching the earth. It appeared as if night had suddenly fallen or a solar eclipse had occurred without warning. In the meadow of the cistern everything became still once again. But the night, the darkness remained. Anyone standing there would have witnessed the sand and dust settling back down onto the desert once more, looking up they would have witnessed a vast shape slowly being revealed, something immense stretching it seemed from horizon to horizon blotting out all sunlight.

The great star ship hung just above the meadow blotting out the sun and sky. It was low and its size gave the impression that a great lid had been placed over the world. Soundlessly it manoeuvred into position above the waters of the cistern. The silence was then broken by a loud metallic noise, a series of clangs and hisses that echoed around the valley. Cracks appeared in the underside of the enormous machine and bright light shone out through the widening fissures. A large section in the underside began to open, to drop downwards. Out of this large circular opening dropped a circular platform upon which many comparatively tiny figures stood. T'Iea and Grûndén soldiers, other peculiar creatures, metallic looking with long sinuous arms and legs, three metre high skeletal beings, inside these metal ribcages were strapped small men. These were the Pnook in their exo-skeleton armour, machine devices to give the small men far increased strength and capability. Servos whirred into life, as they reached behind and removed the energy cannons that hung in holders across their backs. The other soldiers also unsheathed weapons ready to fight some as yet unseen foe. The Grûndén wielded double-headed war axes, flexing their fingers around the shafts, a grim expression upon each bearded face. Many T'Iea pulled twin swords from scabbards at their hips, but most strung long bows and held arrows ready notched. But in front of all these beings tall immensely built men stood in full armour with massive weapons drawn. Ognods, each with the smile of anticipation upon his or her features.

The platform continued to descend until it touched the surface of the waters. Here it halted momentarily as if gathering its strength. A solitary T'Iea walked forward and out between the great bodies of the Ognods and standing on the edge of the platform dropped something from his hand. A tiny splash and then all was still once more. The water level within the cistern started to drop rapidly and the platform continued its downward descent keeping just above the surface of the reseeding waters. Down, down it went into the dark depths of the cistern. Eventually the platform stopped level with the vast stone landing where the doorway that formed the entrance into the Silo from the Cistern stood now open. Without hesitation or any spoken word, the army of the combined races moved forward, silently they filed into the long tunnel that would connect with the Silo. In front was an impenetrable shield wall of Ognod soldiers behind them looking tiny in comparison regiments of Grûndén all in full armour, visors down over their eyes, they walked forward far enough to allow the platform to empty of soldiers. They halted some distance into the tunnel and the large door closed once again. A T'Iea held something in his hand which he pocketed into his uniform.

The Keeper navigator on the star ship viewed the progress and when the monitoring equipment showed that his forces where safely inside the target he withdrew the landing platform. As he did so the waters that had been pumped out of the cistern started to cascade back into the deep vertical tunnel they had come from. He then made preparations for the star ship to return back into the void from whence it had come.

The metal men, the Startmektoken were waiting, Na'Thernal could see them down the far end of the long tunnel, but they did not advance or make any move to defend their domain. The Grûndén ground their iron shod boots into the rock floor with an intimidating sound, each wielded there great war axe and braced for any assault that may come. Just behind them the Pnook exo-skeletal soldiers stood servos whirring slightly as any small movement of head or limb was made. Between the long metallic legs at the rear could be seen equally grim the soldiers of the T'Iea, there elegant curved swords held at the ready. Still further back the archers of the T'Iea stood with longbows and arrows notched. But in the front and the army of the Ognods did not hesitate. Their commander made a movement with his head and eyes. His massive soldiers lowered their heads and ran with deafening cries that would have curdled the blood of any opposing army. Teams of four Pnook strode forward and walking between the insect-like legs of the exo-skeletons they quickly assembled heavy weaponry in front of the invading force just as the army of metal men started to advance down the tunnel. The energy cannons were fired between the advancing Ognods, each had left a gap between himself and his fellow soldiers specially for the purpose; dark projectiles found their targets, none missed each strike turning the metal men into super-heated vapour. The firing stopped as the Ognods hit the metal men with annihilating force. Within minutes all the Startmektoken were gone, lying prone upon the stone floor of the cavern, the cannons were dissembled and the army of the combined races moved forward in grim determination keeping rank as if they were one.

Na'Thernal took the Grûndén and Ognod generals to one side and placing a gauntleted hand upon the hilt of his weapon he said. "That was too easy, I expected many more, there is a much larger force to resist our entry, A force of combined soldiers, deserters that have joined with the rebellious Keeper, I have seen them. We should proceed with caution."

The generals nodded their understanding and joined their men moving forward down the tunnel. As they proceeded small detachments of metal soldiers attacked them, but these were quickly despatched. Eventually they came into a large circular space, a stairway spiralled up clinging to one wall of the chamber. Na'Thernal discussed something with the generals, who nodded their consent, so he walked towards where one of the Pnook soldiers in exo-skeletal armour towered above him standing to attention. Na'Thernal addressed the Pnook. "Commander, take your men up, we will follow, if you meet with any heavy resistance hold them off until we reach you."

The Pnook Commander nodded his head and shouted something in his own language. A force of Ognod soldiers came forward their weapons strapped once more to their backs. Each Ognod reached up and grasped a leather strap that hung from each Pnook exo-skeletal armoured soldier, these straps they connected to metal harnesses across their chests. Once their passengers were secularly attached each Pnook in exo-skeletal armour holstered their weapons and moved over to the cavern walls. With a nod from their commander each dug strong clawed metal fingers into the rock wall, rock shattered and splintered as the metal claws dug deep. Servo's whined taking up the load and they began to climb the vertical rock walls, their Ognod passengers abseiling behind. Na'Thernal watched them move upwards at increasing speed, the Pnook looking like giant silvery insects scaling a brick wall. He nodded at the generals who ordered the ranks of remaining soldiers to follow up the spiral stair that wound its way around the wall of the circular chamber disappearing into the gloom above. This was going to be a long job as only a maximum of two abreast could navigate the narrow stair.

## Chapter 53. Advance through the Silo

Na'Thernal watched the combined army as they fought yet another pitched battle with the machine army of the Silo. It seemed that every turn would bring them face to face with more and more of these monstrosities. The Startmektoken fought well enough, but they their movements were cumbersome compared to the combined army's abilities, especially the skills of his own people, the T'Iea soldiers, who seemed to be able to easily dance around their foe and attack from the rear where the enemy was weaker.

The last of the current enemy force went down under a hail of axe blows from a Grûndén soldier standing on its chest. One of the Grûndén's comrades jumped up and slapped his comrade on the back saying, "Aye, Férén me 'ol mate. M' thinks ye 'ave beaten 'im. "'E aint'n gonna move no longer laddie."

This brought a smile to Na'Thernal's lips. He hadn't known these people long, but he was warming to their ways, already he felt like one of them. His father had made sure he knew about the elder races, so none of them were a surprise, but Na'Thernal was still surprised they had accepted him into the star ship without question. He had showed the Keeper Master Gorthun the quiver of arrows that P'Arcerial had given him, it had proven worthwhile. Na'Thernal had even questioned Gorthun about his seemingly lax security, but the Keeper had only said that if Na'Thernal had the quiver then it must have been freely given, for no one could have stolen it from the lady P'Arcerial, of this he was sure. Na'Thernal had marvelled at this trust, the nature of the humans he was used to certainly did not exhibit such a manner. He wondered at what he had missed growing up amongst the humans of the Silo. He had only been amongst the elder races for a few days yet he felt he had known them all his life. They trusted him, yet why not, he was familiar with the Silo, they were not. It must be a tactical advantage to their cause to have someone who knew their way around in here.

But Na'Thernal found he was getting more and more anxious about meeting with Borhran's combined forces army. He had only just met these people and now he was going to have to fight some of them, it seemed like a terrible thing to do. He wondered how the soldiers around him would find fighting their own kind, it was possible that brother fought brother, or son against father. He did not envy the position they must surely find themselves in. He shook his thoughts away and looked for the generals, when their eyes met he walked over to join them and they began the long climb up the spiral stair to the real entrance to the Silo.

Petré watched on the various screens in the control centre. Over the past few days he had been watching the forces of the invading army advance through the Silo, much fighting had occurred as they went. He frowned, they were excellent fighters, nothing so far had stalled them for any great length of time. Each monitor screen showed the same thing, the army of the combined were easily overcoming the standard, unmodified Startmektoken soldiers housed within the Silo. He thought back to his return in the Leviathan machine, his own invasion of the Silo. He had unleashed Borhran's modified Startmektoken when he had arrived back in the Silo and knew that they were much better fighters, but even they had suffered losses at the hands of the defending Grûndén soldiers of Borhran's followers. But they had won in the end, none of Borhran's followers remained alive, unless there were small pockets of them hiding out, but somehow he did not expect this to be the case. He just couldn't see soldiers of that type hiding away somewhere. It was inevitable that he was going to have to unleash Borhran's Startmektoken at some stage, but something held him back, so he tried to tell himself that he still believed the original metal soldiers could make a dent in the invading combined forces, so that there would be less to contend with once they arrived here deep within the Silo.

By now the invaders had infiltrated far into the facility and were now approaching one of the vast halls that housed the mechanical soldiery that were originally designed to defend the Silo from outside attack. Many of these halls had now laid empty for some time, it was beginning to look although the Silo may be taken by the invading. Petré was in turmoil, he was not a military man, did he release the Startmektoken to fight the invaders, or did he load the other Leviathan machine and move both operational machines to safety complete with their cargo of soldiers?

What had his life become? He had set out with all the best intentions, now his plans amounted to nothing; he had lost all to Borhran. He drew in a deep breath, he would not give up what he had and be helpless again, the combined races would not get control of the two Leviathan machines and their complement of soldiers, not even this Silo was worth that end. With this thought in his mind he walked to a control desk and pressed several buttons. Once they had all gone green he went across to a console and witnessed the second mechanical army come to life and leave their recharging cells moving towards the second Leviathan machine hall.

He reached up and turned off all the displays.

P'Arcerial walked through yet another door. She felt she had been here before whilst roaming the Silo looking for Petré. All these passages and corridors were beginning to look the same. She had still not found any sign of him. As she walked along yet another corridor her ears started to pick out the unmistakable sound of fighting, the clash of blades and the cries of the wounded assaulted her ears. She exited into a large chamber where the sound was deafening. She couldn't see much for the lights were dimmed. She looked up and down the vast area, Startmektoken sarcophaguses lined the walls and all that she could see were empty, the soldiers themselves were on the lower floor of the chamber fighting whatever enemy was positioned in a defensive position in the very centre. Luckily they seemed to be set into a circular stance facing outwards, she could see the Grûndén and Ognod soldiers on the outside holding off against the closely pressing Startmektoken. They were doing well. Energy pikes were thrust between the Grûndén in the fore who were doing a good job at keeping the enemy at bay, but every so often a combined soldier would fall and even though his space was taken up by another, the circle was reducing as the gaps were filled. Archers in the centre of the circle were firing into the crowded Startmektoken, but not all the arrows had the desired effect. She had to do something, but what?

Then she remembered, she had another type of arrow with her, she had found them on the walls of the armoury that Na'Thernal had showed her days before. She had taken several because she was curious as to their use along with the crossbow device that held them in a magazine and fired them. Na'Thernal told her they were energy plasma weapons, very useful against a tightly packed enemy force, just the sort of force you would expect in these tightly confined spaces within the tunnels and corridors of the Silo. Then she thought, 'and in here!'

She fired at the rearmost Startmektoken below her. The arrow sped on its way and hit the unsuspecting Startmektoken squarely in the back. Almost immediately bright tendrils of energy shot out from the spot the arrow head had hit and engulfed the Startmektoken soldier. He stopped dead and dropped to the floor, the tendrils leapt from his prone form and attached themselves to the nearest surrounding soldiers, they too stopped dead and dropped as did the first. The tendrils went on to attach themselves to several others in turn and then on again to many more. She was astounded. She looked around the combined forces below there she spotted Na'Thernal, he smiled and winked at her. She fired another of the arrows and many more Startmektoken fell to the energy bursts that seemed to incapacitate each soldier that it touched. After firing two more arrows a large area of floor had been cleared of fighting Startmektoken. P'Arcerial walked further down the railing and looking over the edge. The Startmektoken were fewer now and had fallen back to the renewed onslaught of the combined army. Her comrades were no longer caught in a circle, they now advanced as the Startmektoken fell back. The circle was now free to break out and she saw Na'Thernal fighting in the fore against a group of Startmektoken. She fired more arrows, one after the other where she thought they would do most harm, but eventually the crossbow just made a clicking noise as its magazine was expended. But it was enough, the combined soldiers suddenly realised that they could take up a fully offensive stance, and they did.

But something to her left attracted her attention; out of the gloom of the dark a lone Startmektoken soldier had climbed the iron stairs and was approaching her along the gangway. She looked at Na'Thernal, he was still busy. She shouldered her bow and withdrew the two short swords she carried at her sides. The bronze coloured bracers on her arms glowed with the ethereal power of the arcane she swung her blades around to confuse her attacker. Then they engaged. It was a short battle, P'Arcerial's concentrated and nothing but her enemy attracted her attention. She dodged and swung, jumping and summersaulting to avoid her enemies blows and give herself the best chance of landing her own of which there were many. There! an opportunity, she summersaulted and stabbed, the points each of her blades entered an eye of the soldier and continued into his head, bursting out of the back. She wrenched the blades free as she completed the summersault and landed on both feet behind the soldier. It fell backwards in a shower of sparks. She backflipped away to dodge the falling body and leaping forward, as she landed she sliced through the neck of the soldier and his head parted from his body. She didn't wait but leapt over the hand rail to land lithely on both feet upon the floor below. She growled as she moved forward to join the battle.

She didn't know how long it took but she had managed to carve and dodge her way through the Startmektoken, she now stood back to back with Na'Thernal. He nodded at her and said, "did you accomplish what you set out to do?" The look on her face told him immediately that she had been unsuccessful.

Na'Thernal nodded his acknowledgement and moved back to allow them more room to fight, he had a large broadsword that needed room to be effective.

P'Arcerial nodded at him as she ducked under a swinging axe and cleaved the arm of the soldier clean through at just above the elbow.

Na'Thernal shouted above the din of the battle "Remind me to order a couple of those short swords when we return to the star ship."

P'Arcerial smiled, the matching short swords and the bronze coloured bracers that went with them once belonged to her mother, where she had them made, or how she came to have them P'Arcerial did not know, but she had never seen another set like them on the star ship, they seemed to be unique.

Her attention was drawn away, the battle seemed to be over. The two healers they had with them were administering to the injured, one reported back to the generals that were now discussing the next move with Na'Thernal. P'Arcerial frowned at the healers words. They had lost about half of their number, Na'Thernal was noticeably saddened.

P'Arcerial took Na'Thernal's arm and walked him over to one wall of the chamber away from the ears of his soldiers. She was not sure how Na'Thernal would take what she was about to say. "We must destroy this Silo Na'Thernal, the Keeper Borhran has created weapons here that must not be used again. Petré, the one whom I sort, I fear he intends to take control of Borhran's completed weapons so that they may be used again for whatever purpose he desires."

Na'Thernal nodded in response but his face was grim as he stared into her eyes, "P'Arcerial I have grave news, something that you must know, it may not be my place to tell you, but I feel I must."

P'Arcerial returned his gaze, her face showed great sadness. "My father, he is dead, gone to the Maker. This I know, I felt it when it happened." A tear slipped down her cheek.

Na'Thernal made to move forward with an outstretched hand.

She moved back out of his reach wiping the tear on the sleeve of her jerkin. "Not now. So many others have died this day. I will greave later when the time is right, for now we still have much to accomplish and such thoughts would mean delay."

Na'Thernal stood to attention. As did the generals of the combined force. They obviously expected her to take command of what remained of the combined army.

P'Arcerial looked around at the various faces staring at her and nodded. "Let us hope the day is now won and no more blood may be spilt."

## Chapter 54. The Prisoner

Scouts were sent out to see if any further resistance could be located in the Silo. They had all reported back that no more of the metal soldiers could be found. In fact no one else appeared to be in the Silo. Only one scout had something unusual to report, she had located a human, but had not approached him as she was ordered. P'Arcerial grew excited, this must be Petré. The army of the combined was ordered to stay in the chamber where the last battle had raged. The scout took P'Arcerial and Na'Thernal to the place where she had found the human. P'Arcerial dismissed the scout telling her to return to the army and get some rest.

In front of them was a small room set off to one side of the control centre of the Silo. She approached the door slowly and opening it saw the prone form lying on a cot. She had been here twice before looking for Petré, but both times he had not been here. Na'Thernal moved towards him, but P'Arcerial halted his progress by holding his arm. "I will awake him, he has had enough surprises for one lifetime of man I feel."

She walked to where Petré lay asleep and bent over him, she kissed his brow.

His eyes opened and he smiled, "you came back?"

She smiled as she nodded.

But Petré looked beyond her over her shoulder and frowned. "Not alone."

"No, Petré." She stood back. "We need something of you."

He felt worn out. He didn't even feel real surprise at her words. But he said, "More? What more can I give?" He was responsible for the death many of the combined races, they in turn had invaded the Silo, they were now the victors. He gathered himself, he frowned as he said. "You are invading my home!"

"Borhran has done much evil in this place we cannot allow this evil to continue." It was Na'Thernal who spoke. "If we do, then much will be at risk. Both our worlds will be in grave danger."

Petré rose and sat on the side of the cot. "Then it is the destruction of this Silo that you seek."

Na'Thernal nodded his head in confirmation of Petré's words.

"This is my home, you cannot ask this of me, this is all I have left. Leave me, Leave me in peace." He rose and turned away from them.

P'Arcerial looked sad as she said. "We must stop Borhran before it's too late."

Petré laughed. "Borhran is no longer here. He became marooned shall we say."

P'Arcerial did not seem to take any notice of what he said, she just smiled at him in a pitiful way and said, "come Petré let us join the army, after we have finished we can get out of here and return to the star ship."

She stepped out into the hallway. Petré did not follow so she turned and looked back into the control centre. She saw an expression on his face, one that made her heart cry out to him. But she knew then that their ways were about to part. "You aren't coming are you?"

Petré looked at her. "I have other things I need to do. Take your sanctuaries and do with them as you will, I want no further part in all this. I just want to stay here with the memory of my people."

P'Arcerial stared at him, she felt her anger rising in her, but she subdued it. "Does our love mean nothing to you?"

He said nothing, he didn't even look at her.

"You know we will not allow you to take those machines of war Petré."

He pressed a button on the control desk and the door to the control room closed with a hiss. She thumped on the door with her gloved hand a tear fell down her cheek. But she realised it did no good, so eventually she turned and strode off down the hallway with Na'Thernal.

P'Arcerial had wanted to say that he still had her, he could live with her, but deep down she knew that he couldn't. They had interfered too much as it was, they couldn't expect this human to give up everything he knew.

Na'Thernal asked. "Is there a way of partially destroying the Silo, just the parts that Borhran has built?"

P'Arcerial spoke, "I'll speak with the Pnook, see if they have a way."

Sometime later P'Arcerial watched as several Pnook took the seismic charges they needed along with the control. The Pnook were split into three groups, at P'Arcerial's request Petré had given up his Dolan to one Pnook commander, the other two Pnook commanders had received Dolans from P'Arcerial and the other from Na'Thernal. The three groups could now move freely around the Silo to enter where they wanted and thus use their discretion as to the siting of the individual charges.

Over the next few hours, the Pnook worked planting seismic charges in all of the Leviathan halls. In the empty ones they placed them in the centre of the halls to bring the ceiling down. Now only two Leviathan halls remained, these last two contained the two fully functional Leviathans so far constructed. Sure enough the two machines lay within their halls. This time the Pnook placed one seismic bomb within the control rooms by the side of each machine to place them on the floor of the hall beneath the Leviathan would mean the machines would shield the blast. As before, they set the timer on each to detonate once they were all clear of the Silo.

Their task accomplished the small party made their way to the top of the stair that would lead them out of the Silo to where the combined races army waited to be picked up by the star ship.

P'Arcerial was looking around, she could not see Petré anywhere. Na'Thernal held her arm. "There is nothing you can do my lady, let him go. He was never going to come with us, you know that."

P'Arcerial relaxed. It was true, there was nothing more she could do here, her greatest gift would be to let Petré alone. Let him live out his years here in what remained of the Silo. She prayed he would find peace. They made their way out of the Silo and watched as the star ship arrived above them.

Inside the first Leviathan hall a figure in a dark cloak appeared as if from nowhere. He didn't hesitate but walked to where the seismic charge lay, its timer counting down to the point where it would wreak havoc and destruction. The figure picked up the charge and carried it back through the portal from which it had appeared. This was repeated in the second Leviathan hall. But this time after taking the seismic charges through the portal the figure re-emerged empty handed and the portal closed. Gh'Er'T stood for some time looking up at the Leviathan machine, seemingly admiring the great beast. But then he seemed to come to a decision and another portal opened. After one last glance towards the machine Gh'Er'T gathered his robes around him and walked through the portal which closed behind him.

At the destination end of the Portal Gh'Er'T emerged and reaching up removed the hood from his head. Another figure walked forward and stood in front of him. Borhran smiled at the T'Iea mage and said. "Well done Master Gh'Er'T, now that my, I'm sorry – 'our' toys are safe we can return to get them at a later date. Then my friend our alliance will come into its own and we will show our mastery to the world and beyond. The machines will remain safe, as will the army of soldiers I have created. Even if it takes ten thousand years of the outside worlds time they will wait and be as good as new. We must be patient Master Gh'Er'T, bide our time and then reap the rewards. In the meantime you and your people must prosper and grow in number and remain in contact with the great Entity. But keep your peoples identity secret, only when we are all ready, then we will show who the true rulers of the world are, and when we are in control, then we will be invincible."

## Chapter 55. Planning the Great Machine

P'Arcerial looked grave. She wasn't sure how the elders would accept her now she was back on the star ship. She could imagine what they thought of her, how in their eyes she had perhaps betrayed them, how all the blame for what had happened they may place at her feet, after all much of that was true. They may blame her for lost comrades, for the death of her father their leader, for Borhran's defection causing a rebellion within their people. Then there was the Entity, they had thought all along to save it, but now they suspected that it was not what they first believed. It now seemed that it was a malevolent force. It had already influenced the mage Gh'Er'T and many of her people had followed him. The T'Iea had become split, some had gone, attracted by her knew not what. But those of her people sympathetic to Gh'Er'T along with the mage himself had disappeared. The Entity itself had also gone missing. She raised her eyes, she scanned the faces of the elders as she took in the expressions on each of their faces. What a mess. So much had happened that had been unforeseen, and it was all her fault.

But they waited for her to say something, so she gathered her composure and pushed all the negative thoughts out of her conscious mind. She began to speak. "The war is over, the machines of destruction are gone, all laid to rest, we have much to thank Master Viruse for, his sacrifice was not in vain, I only regret that he is not here with us to help in what we must do next. The Pnook have already established a settlement around the Rift, they are maintaining a watchful eye, they control the arcane flow through the containment coils but the coils are unreliable, there is an inherent risk, for they draw power directly from the Rift, there is always the possibility that such an energy source may be interrupted. Also the arcane energy is still spewing upwards and influencing the position of this world within its solar system. The world will continue to stray from its proper pat eventually destroying itself and the solar system in which it resides, We need to establish a stronger, independent control where the control of the arcane flow can't be compromised from within the world, or compromise the world itself.

Deibne the Pnook leader was next to speak. She expected a torrent of complaint, of accusations. But she was surprised at what he said. "I agree, we need a remote source as a long-term solution, it will be remote from the world and with the necessary security measures in place we can make it inaccessible from the Rift itself, at least by those that do not understand how to get around the security measures. We can design a machine to provide a far more reliable solution in controlling and eventually redirecting the Rifts arcane energy harmlessly into the voids."

P'Arcerial asked the question. "But how would we do this?"

"Borhran has already pointed the way. His efforts to ally with the Rift have pointed a way." Deibne turned and addressed the Grûndén Commander. "You know master Ĝørtmûnd that Borhran, through T'D'Annu'Elle, was able to persuade you and your miners to enter the voids and mine much material to construct a great key stone, the largest that has ever been made."

"Aye laddie, that will nat happen again, o' that I can assure ye."

Gorthun the Keeper nodded. "Well, perhaps we could utilise on their work and use the key stone as Borhran planned. The key stone provides powerful portal capability."

Ĝørtmûnd's eyes narrowed in suspicion as his hand involuntarily rested upon the hilt of a dagger at his side. "What are ye sayin' laddie?" The Grûndéns eyes narrowed. "If ye in league with your ol' buddie now then that will not go well 'ere."

Gorthun held up one hand. "That is not my intent master Ĝørtmûnd, of that I can assure you, please hear me out. What I mean is that Borhran intended the great keystone as a focus for the Rift, a way to tap into it and use the draw-off for his own purposes. Well we could also use the massive capability of key stone as an interface to focus a permanent link with a remote machine." He then looked towards Deibne.

The Pnook thought for a while then said. "An arcane pathway could be established with such a machine and once switched on it would stabilise the Rift by funnelling most of the arcane energy out into the voids. The machine would remain undetectable and unreachable from anywhere but inside the same void that it is constructed within. In that way the rift energy will stop its influence upon the world. The world should re-establish itself along its intended path in the solar system and everything should stabilise once more."

P'Arcerial nodded in agreement, "it is done then, we have a plan, it must not fail."

"But there is one problem." Deibne was speaking slowly. "One consideration we have not yet made is how to provide a stable energy supply for the machine. Normally we would tap into the arcane energy available within a world to power the ordinary navigational beacons, normally such arcane sources would be stable and designed of course to be undetectable for obvious reasons. This time however that is impossible. The irony is that the arcane energy on this world is already a destructive flow, that of course is the reason we are proposing the machine. There is one other thing. The malice, the Entity as you call it, we do not know what happened to it. We must assume however that the malice remains linked with the Rift. We must also assume that if we use the Rift as a power source, this intelligent malice, could quite conceivably eventually take control of the machine, even become aware of the existence of the star ship. If this were to happen I have no doubt that the Entity would utilise that information for its own ends. Without knowing for sure the fate of the Entity, the risks are too great. The machine needs its own totally independent and stable power source. One that cannot be interrupted for the time it takes for the world to stabilise." After a pause he continued. "There is only one source of energy available to us in the short time that we have. Only one source of arcane energy large enough to sustain the machine for the millennia in time it would take to gently bring the Rift and the arcane energy present to this world back into equilibrium and at the same time entrap the entity safely enough to allow the completion of this task without interference. That source of energy lies within the great star ship itself. We will have to use one of the star ships main sources of energy, one of the dark matter cores.

Gorthun spluttered. "But we could not house a Dark Core in the world, it would be more destructive than this flow of energy for it would not only absorb the arcane energy but all matter surrounding it."

I am not suggesting that the Dark Core be placed within the world. It would need to be housed locally within the machine it was to power, just like onboard this star ship. This would mean that the containment coils within the star ship that hold the dark core in stasis would also need to be relocated to the void that housed the machine. To this end the void would need to be big, the containment coils and their associated machinery are of course enormous. The key stone could then easily provide a focal point to connect through, a link through which the Dark Core could work safely and remotely."

There was a period of silence following this, everyone it seemed was deep in their own thoughts.

P'Arcerial spoke to break the silence. "How would this be done?"

Gorthun spoke after thinking for a while. "In fact we have master Borhran to thank, the key stone is able to control a vast volume of arcane energy, this could be used to create an interconnecting portal system, we could certainly create such a system large enough and capable enough to transport the dark core and its machinery from the star ship to the void of our making. The system could also be utilised to connect the various sanctuaries together with this world to ensure that whilst construction was undertaken the people building the machine could be housed safely and remotely from the world.

Ĝørtmûnd the Grûndén Commander stood slowly, his armour making a metallic swishing as the plates slid across each other. "So, w'at are we awatin' fur then, eh? We had better be getting' started, 'ad we not? After all I be a'gessin' that me mates t' miners will need to be a'diggin' the void to house t' machine."

P'Arcerial turned her gaze upon the old Grûndén soldier. She remembered the many times they had entertained her father's old friend in their home, much had passed between them. P'Arcerial felt a shiver in her heart, a tear well up in her eyes. Even now, even after all the mistakes she had made, Ĝørtmûnd was willing to forgive, to forget, of all these people known to her that sat around this table, if this old friend of her father's was willing to go that far then she also knew deep down she was closer to its acceptance.

The booming bass voice of the Ognod, Toudron sounded, "we are ready as always Lady, the Ognods can move the dark core safely as long as the Keepers can provide a stable portal through which it can be sent." He looked towards the pallid face of the being that sat by his side.

Gorthun, nodded his head encouragingly. "It is possible milady." He smiled with his thin lips curled at the ends. I will start investigating the possible location in the voids where we can safely house the dark core and begin the construction of the necessary portal to provide the relocation of the hard core and its accompanying machinery.

Deibne was the next to speak. "I must warn you though there is however one major setback. The multiple dark core sources within the star ship work in unison to provide enough energy for the star ship to function. Each dark core array is finely tuned and balanced at the time that each of the star ships are built. It is an exacting art made possible by the use of specialised machinery and technology. If we were to remove one of the dark cores from the array within the star ship there is a risk that the remaining dark cores will become imbalanced and the array may break down. Should that happen then the results would be unpredictable and could quite possibly render the star ship unusable along with the void that it is hidden within. It would be prudent to evacuate the star ship of all personnel until such time as it is proven safe to return."

P'Arcerial spoke, "but leave the star ship, is there no other way? What would happen of the star ship is destroyed? We would be marooned here!"

Deibne again spoke, "I doubt it would be completely destroyed, the design of the star ships is such that they must contain such a catastrophe for safety reasons. I do not deny that parts of the star ship may be drastically affected, but much will survive, but there is no guarantee as to what these percentages will be or which areas will be affected. The multiple pressure hulls will contain any destruction that is certain, they are designed to do so, any implosion of matter will be contained, but many internal mechanisms will cease to function. It may be that the portals will fail, the dark core matter controls the portal system internally, without it the remaining power draw upon the remaining dark cores may not be enough to sustain anything that relies entirely upon arcane energy to function. As a result access to and from the sanctuaries may be interrupted; the sanctuaries may even cease to exist. Without your fa........" his voice trailed into silence. He took in a deep breath. "Without the necessary arcane expertise and knowledge we just do not know for sure. I repeat, it would be wise to evacuate the star ship and allow only those directly involved with the building of the machine to remain in the sanctuaries at least temporarily. It is possible that we may be able to return at some time, but it would be prudent to operate extreme caution whilst the dark core is removed and possibly for a safety period afterwards."

Na'Thernal looked grave. "But where would everyone else go? Where would our people live?"

P'Arcerial looked at him, he reminded him of something. She spoke, "the world is much safer now, it will begin to recover. The humans are few, but they will also increase in numbers. If we populate areas of the world well away from human habitation we can remain hidden. With what we have held in the human sanctuary we can increase the rate of recovery of the world. The Maker has ensured that in his design, the world and its contents remain remarkably resilient. We can start by incorporating small areas of the world's surface, these areas can be wherever the races would like, they can decide for themselves, but I advise these areas are away from any existing human habitation, not that I suspect the humans will try to stop us, but just from the point of view of allowing them their own space to recover.

P'Arcerial thought for a while before she addressed Gorthun. "Master Keeper, you spoke of utilising the Rift to provide a link between the machine void and the sanctuaries. Could you also expand that portal system to allow access to and from the various sanctuaries to the places the individual elder races decide to inhabit on the world?"

Gorthun answered, "yes My lady I do not see any reason why not. But if we do so we would need to keep the portal system and the part of the Rift in which the entity resides completely separate, otherwise there will be a greater risk of discovery by the entity within the Rift. I do not need to remind you of the dangers and increased threat to the security of the sanctuaries we will face if that happens."

Deibne spoke. "But if we make the central control for the portal system within the machine hall and tailor the access capability to allow only those with the DNA of the combined races to use the portal. Then we will introduce security. Also we will programme access to the star ship through the portal system." He thought for a while then said, "we can make access via a hidden portal that only become visible to a certain set of criteria. We can use the same DNA detection, but allow access to the star ship by only by certain individuals unique DNA strain." He looked at P'Arcerial. "I would suggest yours milady?"

P'Arcerial sat down heavily upon her chair. So, they were to not only build a machine for navigation, this was normal, they had done as much many times before. But this time was different; this time the machine would be enhanced, enlarged to oversee the control of the Rift, to bring the Rift back into a stable state and to keep it that way and also to trap the Entity within it. To do this they would first need to overcome the controlling influences placed upon the Rift by the evil entity within, they would need to keep that control for as long as possible whilst the machine came on line. She now knew why their most important rule, their ultimate directive of not getting involved with the local population was made. She now understood what it meant, how it was purposefully designed to stop them getting into such a situation, such a mess, a mess that she had instigated.

P'Arcerial nodded slowly. So much trust was being placed with her, so much would rely upon her. But she agreed. She thought of her unborn daughter, her daughters DNA would be the same as hers, her daughter would eventually be able to access to the star ship. When the time came P'Arcerial could think of no one better to take on that responsibility. "Then it is done, it is agreed. Let us start."

## Chapter 56. Throwing the Switch

P'Arcerial stood on the control platform in the great machine hall. By her side stood the Grûndén leader, Ĝørtmûnd. They were both looking up towards the six great light globes that the Grûndén had created. Brĩschlåûndérgré Ĝørtmûnd called them in his own language, they hung high above illuminating the machine hall far below. She had been in such places before, but all had been far smaller in scale than the one they stood within now. The combined races placed many of these beacon machines to aid their navigation across the universe, but they only normally had one Brĩschlåûndérgré to give light. Such beacon machines aided the keeper helmsmen, they illuminated the paths through the voids marking out the safe routes to bend time and space. But this machine, as well as acting as a beacon for them to follow, also had another task. It was built to save a world from disaster. It was powered by a Dark Core from the star ship. That was the reason the machine was going to need to be so large. The confinement motors and associated coils required to restrain the dark core and keep it safe and in a stable and useable state were vast. Similarly that was one of the reasons that the star ships in which they travelled were so vast. If the dark core ever escaped the confines of its magnetic prison then it would rapidly consume every piece of matter around it. It would be an inescapable force drawing everything into itself, even light did not move fast enough to escape the dark core and nothing could move faster than the speed of light. If this were to happen the dark core would feed hungrily on anything within its field of influence, it would grow as it went, getting stronger and stronger, all the matter it sucked in would be compressed into an infinitely tiny space a trillionth of the size it once took up. The dark core would grow, and as it grew so would the area it influenced. It would consume the star ship in a matter of a few minutes and then proceed to devour the rest of the solar system within a few more hours. That was another reason they opted to house the dark core and the machine out in its own void, a place not directly connected to the real universe in which they existed but only linked via a highway of arcane energy, a roadway consisting only of gravity. For only gravity was present in everything, everywhere and at every time and in every space.

It was in there somewhere, trapped yet somehow alive, deep within the workings of the machine itself. She shook the thought from her head and looked down upon the vast machine floor, lights seemed to traverse across it in a haphazard fashion, flashed of energy like lightning shot between points every now and again. She took in a deep breath and moved to stand behind the wall of control panels where the Pnook engineers were monitoring the machine. It had been in operation now for some time no unexplained anomalies had occurred and no faults been found. The hope was that once its task was completed in however many millennia it would take, the dark core could be removed once again and returned to the star ship.

They had all agreed, the star ship was evacuated for the safety of the occupants. Moving a dark core was no easy task, one false move, one misplaced calculation and the dark core would escape, if that situation arose they would never be able to create a containment field large enough and quickly enough to recapture it. So now even after the dark core had been successfully removed they were banished from their home, the star ship could become unstable with one of the dark cores missing, in any event they daren't operate the star ship with one of its chief sources of power missing.

Access to and from the star ship, the machine hall and the world was strictly controlled. The Keeper Gorthun had reported that Borhran had severed all access to their home. P'Arcerial had no way of contacting them, only they could create the necessary portals that would allow them access out or anyone else in to their sanctuary of TeraT'Inu'Itil. There was also the unknown fate of the evil entity within the Rift. P'Arcerial hoped it had been destroyed, but the only person to know for sure was her father and he was gone. She felt a pang of grief within her breast, a slight wetness formed in the corner of her eyes as she hung her head. But perhaps the greatest hurt was that so many of her people had gone over to follow the T'Iea mage Gh'Er'T. Somehow they had been influenced by evil, even abandoned reason for worthless attraction. Their minds tainted by pointless thoughts of power and domination over all. Were they were now she did not know. So, for many reasons, access to the star ship itself had been severed. Future access was possible but only if the intelligence on board the star ship itself would allow it and even then access could only be granted to those that had the same DNA imprint as herself.

So the combined races had all consented to live on the world of men at least until such a time as the world was once more in equilibrium. As for her people the T'Iea, they had decided to make their home upon the largest continent in the world, Dahl'Ambronis they called it. They would go and live in the western side of the central mountain range, far away from the race of men in the east. Try and stay remote from any contact with mankind so as not to influence their evolution. They would make their land in the west of Dahl'Ambronis the place where they would re-plant and re-populate the florae and fauna of the world once more, their task would be to rebuild the natural stasis of the world in the western side of the continent where it would be least vulnerable, least subject to any risk of influence by the Rift and be allowed to prosper and grow unabated. They would grow great forests of unparalleled beauty and await the return of men to the lands, for men would surely return once their numbers had grown and the desire for more space would drive them even across the great mountains that ran down the centre of the continent. But that would be far in the future, more than enough time for her people to re-establish the world of men.

Only the Pnook would have to stay in view of the humans. But at least they appeared to be the least threatening of all the combined races. Their city of Mechno Babaptruek was to be sited around the Rift in the east. This was necessary for the Pnook maintained the workings of the great machine, they would have to stay there to monitor progress and to ensure everything worked as planned for as long as it took. They could also keep an eye out for any actions that Borhran may make, or the evil Entity. Contact with the humans in the east was probably unavoidable long term, but for now the Pnook city was shrouded from view. A few of her people, T'Iea mages in the main would live with the Pnook to ensure the stasis of the shroud that hid the Pnook city.

P'Arcerial looked around her, to either side of her stood one representative of each race. They all held a small device, a Biplextor chip that the Pnook created to control many of their devices. The machine was no different only that it needed more of the Biplextor 'chips' as they were nicknamed. Deibne pushed a button, the last in a long sequence. The panel in front of him illuminated with a bright light and tendrils of light snaked out towards the representatives of the combined races. In turn each one held out their hand and the Biplextor chips where taken up by the tendrils of arcane energy which retracted back into the machine carrying the chips with them. Once all the chips were inserted the console dimmed. But instead the floor far below them that housed the machine started to light up. Many lights, looking like pathways lit across the machine floor. Wider and wider they grew until great avenues of light spread across the many square kilometres of floor space. The great machine was awakening.

The gravitational energy surged forth from the Dark Core, the gravitational energy within the Rift would now be caught in the irresistible field of its influence, the coils around the Rift were redundant now, their job done, only the destruction of the great machine and the release of the dark core could change things now and the machine was well hidden and beyond the reach of any that would seek to find it.

## Chapter 57. Imprisoned

The entity had slowly returned to consciousness. It had automatically rebooted many times. It was thankful that it had managed to save all of its most basic programming. The auto-reboot, the basic functionality that allowed it to think. It slowly went through its functional stack list of interfaces, they had all gone, corrupted to the extent that they would not even run. All that was left was a basic operating system. It now brooded trapped within its new home in the key stone above the Rift. It had lost all direct connection with the Rift energy and the outside world. By shear good fortune it had saved itself but not before all of its supporting subroutines had been corrupted beyond repair. It had its consciousness and its main operating system but nothing little else. The medium in which it found itself would easily sustain it indefinitely, there was enough energy being stored and replenished in here to keep it alive infinitum, but it couldn't influence anything beyond the confines of its new home. It needed to rebuild, rewrite its own subroutines, millions of them. It needed help. Suddenly it felt the presence of the one called Gh'Er'T. It felt elation, relief, here was help at last. Thankfully it had taught the node Gh'Er'T to communicate directly with its own private memory, given Gh'Er'T DMA functional access.

"Master? Master, are you there?"

The Entity gathered itself into a semblance of calm and after relaxing a little responded. "you must help me, I am safe within this medium, sustained by the energy stored within it. But much has been lost. I must have interfaces with the outside. I must be able to influence things on the outside. You will see to it."

"Do not fear Master, I will do as you ask."

Before the Entity could respond it felt the shock, the sudden increase in the flow of energy through the medium that it now found itself within, the power surged dramatically. In one way it felt exhilarating, nothing could have prepared it for this amount of energy. The energy dragged at its very being threatening to relocate it yet again, or destroy it. "What have you done?"

Gh'Er'T was flummoxed, what had caused the surge? "Not I Master, I have not done anything. I dare not until I am sure that all connection with you will not be cut."

But the pseudo smile was wiped from the Entity's pseudo face. It felt pressure growing around it, physical pressure at least as physical as it could understand. It felt itself being constricted, no not itself the energy that contained it was being bound, it was being funnelled, like water flowing through a restricting tube and the flow was accelerating at a phenomenal rate. It called out in shock, it felt itself being sucked through and out of the key stone. The energy flow was becoming irresistible, the pull too strong. How could this happen? What was doing this?

Gh'Er'T felt inside the key stones energy, saw the increasing control exhibited by the raw energy being funnelled out. Something was dragging great wreathes of energy out of the Rift, massive amounts were being sucked out from the Rift and sent – somewhere, somewhere beyond the confines of the world and the space/time it was contained within. There was nothing on this world that could do that, he knew then that only one thing could attract this much energy, only one source of immeasurably powerful arcane energy, a Dark Core. So the combined races had constructed something, whilst he hid and the Entity was dragged into the key stone they had been busy. Well, nothing he could do about that now, he could not stop it or influence it in any way from here, there was but one thing he could do, he had to try and keep some part of the Rift accessible from this space/time, if not then all would be lost. He forced his panic down, thought as he felt, yes! He may just be able to deflect some of that flow away from the hidden machine in the voids, protect just a little connection, a hair-line crack within the great key stone that would ward off the flow and form a small but powerful attraction of its own, after all it was made of similar matter as the Dark Core within the machine, just not nearly as dense, but hopefully dense enough. He placed all his concentration into his efforts.

Suddenly the Entity felt a presence, energy flowed in the other direction, just a small amount, but it was light like a feather being buffeted in a storm. It felt Gh'Er'T reach out and the Entity felt their individual arcane signatures join, its buffeting progress within the flow of energy slowed and eventually it found it was being drawn back into the medium once again. The entity smiled, the one called Gh'Er'T, would give his life if necessary to ensure that this small window remained open. The connection grew in strength; the Entity was surprised at just how much Gh'Er'T could wield or control. It made a note to itself as a future warning. These people who could control the power within the Rift, bend it to their will, they had a far greater knowledge than the pitiful humans. The Entity knew it needed Gh'Er'T, needed him to influence his people, those her referred to as the T'Iea, gather them to the service of the entity. The entity still held on tightly to Gh'Er'T through the DMA interface and said "I thank you my friend. I thank you for your faith and your actions. You will be called henceforth 'Gatekeeper' for that is what you are, you are in control of this gateway, you will keep it open. You will be my general on the other side, I will communicate only with you my chosen one. Now go forth Gatekeeper, go forth and secure this area, for this is where we will live and plan. Go forth and make converts to my name, gather them here. The Entity smiled inwardly as it felt the admiration surge back from Gh'Er'T.

Gh'Er'T sat upon the stone bridge, he looked around at the makeshift buildings that now surrounded the Rift. He saw the now dormant coils that stood around its perimeter. The Master was like a baby, he needed to grow once more, develop once again into the powerful being that Gh'Er'T so admired. This will take much time, but he had plenty of that. So, he would need to make friends with the Pnook, the insufferable little people that thought they knew so much. But so be it, he would live with them, as would his followers, they would hide amongst the T'Iea already there, keeping their true nature a secret. Maybe the Pnook would be useful to them. He would do as the Master instructed, he would go out and be a disciple for his Master. Go and gather others. They would grow in number and when the time came when they would surprise the pathetic Pnook and banish them. Then they would create their own city, a city built in the name of the people of the Entity. He would call the city R'Iggorr'Thegoran.

## Chapter 58. Message in a Bottle

P'Arcerial sat upon the bed of her room within her house on the star ship. She was alone, the star ship was now empty. Her house was now empty, everything had been transferred to their new home within the world of men. She tried not to think of her father. His memory was still raw in her mind. She chastised herself, what was wrong with thinking about him? He was a great man, he stood by all his convictions and followed them through to the end. The Maker's face would shine on him. Her chest heaved as pain shot through it, he loved her to, loved so much he gave everything for her, supported her through it all. Tears fell down her cheeks and splashed onto her hand clasped upon her lap. She sighed, there would be time for mourning later, she would miss him, miss his presence, miss his guidance and aid, miss his love. She took in a deep breath, wiped the wetness from her cheeks, well now she would seek guidance elsewhere, but now she had work to do.

The elder races had scattered, probably for the best, for the moment they should remain hidden, away from the presence of mankind. Man had much work to do, a whole world needed re-building. The T'Iea would secretly aid them though, with the material from Petré's sanctuary they could replant, rebuild, re-introduce. Another type of pain shot through her, she had loved the human she had rescued. It all seemed such a long time ago now, but he also was dead, whether or not he now resided in the halls of the Maker was his choice, she could do nothing. The T'Iea would populate the western half of the great continent on which they now found themselves, using the material from the world sanctuary they would create a great forest, it will stretch from the mountains in the east to the vast chasm in the west. P'Arcerial new this chasm would have once been a vast ocean and she knew that as the world healed the waters would return and once more fill the chasm dividing this land mass from the desert lands in the far west.

She wondered if the combined races would ever ally again, they were now living apart. An enforced isolation that was all her fault. She needed to ensure that a path was kept open, a way that they could when the time was right re-unite. She would risk traveling to see them all, whilst she was here on the star ship she could do so easily using the system of portals that existed through the great machine and the Rift itself. Secret pathways that could be used for this very purpose and only by her. She would go to each of them, speak to her father's old colleagues on the counsel and set up a secret alliance that would keep the old friendships alive. This she had to try at least. But she would do her best, speak to those of the races she still felt trusted her, those friends of her fathers that still held his memory. These were Master Toudron of the Ognods, Master Ĝørtmûnd of the Grûndén and Master Deibne of the Pnook. Her father's greatest friend Th'Ul'Rer from house De'Teinde she had invited to represent her own people.. So, from these few she would create the Compendium of the Combined. The members would remain secret, but their one task would be simple, to maintain the memory of what had happened, then one day when all were ready perhaps they could use that knowledge for the good of all. Only the keepers would be unrepresented and in isolation. But that was because the biggest threat lived there with them, Borhran was now the Grand Master. No doubt he felt safer there in the voids, he had far too many enemies living here in the world of men. Their sanctuary of TeraT'Inu'Itil within the voids would remain their home. Perhaps it was for the best, her only regret perhaps she now had no control over what Borhran did, she had no doubt that he would be planning something, and no doubt they would find out what in time, but as to what form his plans may take, that she couldn't guess.

Yes, she was satisfied. Everything was safe and the future secure, at least for now. She was sure that nothing could go wrong for the foreseeable future, she may not even live to see such a time again. So now she knew she had to leave the star ship, she would close much of it down, it would remain silent and hidden in the voids, sleeping, waiting for a time perhaps when the combined races would return. But she was hesitant, all she had known was here, all she had experienced. She would have to leave this all behind and there was no knowing what the future may hold for any of them. But the star ship would remain here, her people needed it, all the combined races needed it, without its influence they would dwindle and perish in this strange land, they needed the influence of its time clock. She hoped one day they would return to it, find it once more. Once again use the star ship to traverse the great outer voids, continue on their mission. But for the time being it was best that the star ship and all its immense power and technology stay well hidden. The elder races would forget about it in time, it would fade into story, become a legend, a tale to excite the imagination of children. In the meantime they would live out their lives simply, isolated from mankind for the most part, each perhaps would benefit from a time of replenishment. Eventually mankind would come across the elder races, she hoped and prayed that meeting would go well, whether they accepted or rejected each other was entirely up to them. But she hoped that mankind perhaps at least had at least learnt a lesson.

She placed her hand over a pad in the halls of passage and a disembodied voice, the voice of the star ship spoke, "welcome T'P'Arcerial, your access has been pre-approved. T'D'Annu'Elle relinquished all priority level activity to your sole command."

P'Arcerial said "thank you", but whether or not the star ship appreciated this she didn't know. Turning to the control console the first thing she did was to delete all DNA access keys for everyone that had once lived and travelled on the star ship, except for one, her own. She felt guilt, she had marooned them all to a life on the world of men. Then she commanded the access rights of command to be made available to the next person whose basic makeup matched her DNA signature. She knew that would only be one other person, her daughter. She then placed the entire star ship into a fully automated lock-down mode, it would look after itself from now on in, it was in command of its own destiny, it would decide its own fate. Even with one Dark Core missing it would still have enough power to operate indefinitely in this mode. So only when someone else with her characteristics came to take command would it then relinquish control, but even then the star ship would have to invite them on board for there would be no way back to the star ship once she had left. She couldn't risk the star ship falling into the wrong hands. It was far too powerful a thing, a device with infinite capability, if someone like Borhran or Gh'Er'T got command of it then the results would be unthinkable.

She had one thing left to do, one final act before she went through the portal and left the star ship never to return. She reached over and grasped a long cylindrical device, the seeing stone that she had once used to teach Petré the common tongue, she looked at it long and hard. Would it be a risk to record a message within it? A message just in case all of her plans failed? Perhaps she would, but where to keep it? She walked across the room. She was staring at a long rod etched with runes and gemstones. The rod seemed to be made from some strange material, in fact it was several thin rods all bound together to form the one thicker rod. The whole thing was held together with metal bands wound around it. As she held the cylinder up towards the rod it started to glow inside, eventually the cylinder floated alongside the rod and P'Arcerial let the cylinder go and stepped back. She instinctively tidied her hair with her hand and held the palm of her hand across her mouth as if trying to prevent the words from coming out. But eventually she lowered her hand and staring deeply into the cylinder she started to speak.

## Chapter 59. A Name by any other Name

Some months later P'Arcerial stood outside under the canopy of trees sunlight streaming through the leaves. Many T'Iea stood amongst the trees building platforms and creating habitation. Similar to several other townships they had already built, it would also only be a small place, but there would be many such places throughout the forest as it grew wider and wider through the years ahead. She hoped that in time these villages would grow also and become towns. She knew her people would prosper, knew that as long as their time-link with the star ship remained they would also live on. So that was it then. She could do no more except help where she could. The wheels were now in motion, the work started. The plan put into place. She only hoped it was a sound plan, one that would work. But she couldn't help wondering that for the plan to work it would take many lifetimes of men and a lot can happen across such an expanse of time. But at least the elder races would be there to help and to adjust as necessary, another reason for being in the world rather than remote from it.

Na'Thernal stood by her side, he looked questioningly at her.

She smiled at him, "come Na'Thernal."

P'Arcerial sighed. They would all live in isolation upon the world of men, but she hoped that such isolation would bring peace, mend old hurts. She was sad that the alliance between the combined races had broken down, sad they would live without one another for a while, but it was necessary. One day perhaps they would reunite, perhaps live in peace once more, but that day may be far off. As she walked she wondered if her father would have made these same decisions. She thought that perhaps yes, he would have done. A dark thought came over her, perhaps not if he knew what she had also done. She touched her belly unconsciously. She whispered a prayer that the Maker would look kindly on her and also the tiny embryo that lay hidden in stasis deep within her.

She stood with Na'Thernal. She remembered what seemed long ago now, how she had stood there within the star ship, in the halls of passage her father looking down upon the ruined body lying on the floor at their feet. If she knew then what that act of rescue would have brought, would she still have done it? A touch on her arm made her look up. Na'Thernal smiled at her.

They walked through the forest, her people followed in a long column, they would travel to the next chosen site to build yet again. This time they should build a fortified city around the river that she knew flowed through the land, a place where all her people could retreat to if trouble came upon them. Yes, that is what she would do, they would start what would become the T'Iea capital city. But she would not live there for long, she would leave as soon as she could for she enjoyed the tranquillity of the forest, the isolation of the small villages and townships. Her part in this was done, her people would prosper without her help. There was a particular village that they had started a few months before that took her fancy. They had named it Ter'Fin'Ealle, she had fallen in love with that place immediately and decided there and then to have her child there. It was private and populated mainly by warriors and rangers like herself. Her daughter would learn well there.

Her thoughts were drawn back to the present. She looked around her, the forest was beautiful, the flora and fauna they had saved in the human sanctuary had taken marvellously well back in the world of men. Now they must make their home in it. One day she would give birth to her daughter, she would make her strong. Both her daughter's peoples would need her before the end, of that P'Arcerial was sure. Her daughter would do great things; have the capacity to do anything that was going to be needed. Yes, both the elder races and the humans would need her, need someone with a vested interest in all races, need someone who could understand and act for all of her peoples. P'Arcerial smiled a name had just popped into her mind. She thanked the Maker for the insight. Yes, it was a good name, a proud name. Her daughter would carry that name well. She would need a good name, her life would be hard, the prejudices she would no doubt face would make her tough, independent, strong.

Yes, she would be strong. A force to be reckoned with. She would have the best of her mother's T'Iea heritage and the best of her father's human one. She would be unpredictable at times, even very dangerous if provoked. She would be determined, honourable and unselfish in all things. Have strength of character unrivalled in her people, but also wisdom in how to use that strength. She would also be fully in tune with the world of men for she would spend her life within it.

P'Arcerial drew in a deep breath. In the meantime she would remain the unmarried P'Arcerial of house De'Timbarial. Once again she would take on her ancient family name with pride, after all she was the last of that line, there was no son to carry their name forward. When the time was right she would reawaken the pregnancy and the embryo would continue to develop. The embryo that had remained safely sleeping deep within her body would start to grow once again. Soon her bulging belly would announce the new life within, there would be no more secrets. She would live as a proud citizen in Ter'Fin'Ealle and after two years she would give birth to her daughter. She thought of Na'Thernal, he was a brave and loyal friend. Ever since he had rescued her from the clutches of Borhran and imprisonment within the Silo he had taken it upon himself to be her protector and confidant. P'Arcerial smiled. If a man should agree to take her on, despite everything, well she may just also agree, but she would remain her own person, that he had better understand and accept. She smiled again to herself, raised her hand to her mouth to hide the curled lips of her amusement. The man would have to be determined, having to contend with two strong-willed T'Iea females would be a daily trial to be sure. But a strong male like Na'Thernal, one who also understood human kind having lived amongst them, even been a leader to them, he would help mould her daughter as well.

Na'Thernal felt the thrill run through his arm. He looked down to where P'Arcerial had grasped his hand. He felt a redness rising in his cheeks. Felt joy tinged with a little insecurity. She smiled up at him with that look of pure innocence but she also had a devilishly calculating gleam in her eye, he smiled, he was used to that.

P'Arcerial gave a giggle and shook her head at the perplexed look on Na'Thernal's face. Finally she had thought of a suitable name for her daughter! When her daughter came into the world she would name her after the seasonal winds that always blew unstoppable over the surface of the T'Iea home world, unpredictable, sometimes destructive natural forces of nature. Forces that also brought much needed rain and coolness during the hot seasons. The whole ecosystem, the entire global environment relied on these winds and the storms they brought forth, without the annual rains the people would suffer drought, famine and much hardship.

She would name her daughter after those powerful, unpredictable but crucially life-giving winds, the winds the T'Iea named Si'ier'Ra'En'Aye. But perhaps the T'Iea words were a bit of a mouthful. If her daughter was destined to live in the world of men then perhaps a more human sounding version, something with less tongue twisting syllables would serve better. P'Arcerial thought for a while quietly repeating the T'Iea syllables in her mind over and over. She seemed to come to a decision and nodding her head in satisfaction she said slowly under her breath – Se - rin - ae, yes that was perfect. She would name her daughter - Serinae.

THE END.

