The Prophesy: Book 4 - Armageddon

 

"Where is Colibri this morning?" asked Harold.

"He went to the General Hospital to be there when that little Orc that caught his heart is reanimated, Dad. So is Dunbar, but not for the same reason. It is the Healer that called on him this morning."

"An Orc, Ian?"

"Yes, the name is Yousef, and he is five years old. He is taking Jerry with him so the two get introduced to each other as early as possible."

Just then, Colibri walked in, holding Yousef by the right hand and Jerry by the left hand. It was apparent that Colibri had conquered the little Orc’s heart totally. He watched Colibri’s every move, eyes big and bright.

"Hey, is this not our little Dragon lover?" asked Ian.

"Yes! Why did Colibri not tell me he was a Dragon? I had such a nice Dragon ride!"

"Colibri had not yet bonded to a Dragon, little one. Now he can be one, and a lot more!" replied Ian.

Just as the little Orc was climbing into Colibri’s lap to sit at the table, Dunbar came in, looking sombre.

"Is there a problem, Dunbar?" asked a concerned Harold.

"There is a problem. The Healer called on me yesterday and asked I pay him a visit to the stasis chambers. I obliged early this morning. There, I found, in one of the stasis chambers, my wife. She is dying of advanced leukaemia, and the stasis chambers were loosing the battle with the invading cancer. The Healer asked if I wanted my wife to be let go, or put into cryogenic chamber while they rebuilt a new body for her from her genetic material. The healer told me he did not recommend the procedure because her genetic material had been severely corrupted. Prince Harp, what would you suggest?"

"Are there other family members?"

"No, she was a lone Child, taken by the Diviners to the Seamstresses’ Order. She never did like that, and I know from her reaction to sex she probably was used, as were your sisters. We never did have Children. I found out my wife had been so severely abused she could no longer bear Child."

"Do you love her?"

"She is kind, but we never were very close. I spent too much time on the road, and she spent way too much time gripping about her work for us to ever connect except when we did manage to hit the pillow both in the mood, a very rare occurrence indeed."

"Does she know who you are?"

"Yes, I asked to talk to her via telepathy while the Healer kept her painless."

"What was her reaction?"

"Her exact words were ‘you succeeded where I failed.’ I do not think she realised she was sharing my rank within the Atlantean society."

"Did you talk of her condition and what to do?"

"Yes. I put the options on the table for her. She seemed disinterested in life. She told me to do what was best."

"I understand she dumped the hot potato right in your lap. How long would it take for her new body, fully repaired, to be generated?"

"The healer said two years. There is more. She said if I choose to have her body rebuilt, we should consider divorce. She told me flat out that she had found another lover who filled the voids between my visit. I do not blame her one bit. I verified, and her lover is recoverable. In fact, he could be taken out of stasis right away, but I told the Healer to put the idea on the ice. If I decide to have my wife rebuilt, I wish they would come out of stasis at the same time. Prince Paschal, this will occupy two pods for two years. Is there a problem?"

"None whatsoever. We have more than enough to spare."

"So, Prince Harp, what do you suggest?"

"There is one last point. Do you love her and will you be jealous of her lover?"

"It was a marriage of convenience. I had a hot bed to rest into when I came home, she could see whomever she wanted while I was gone. I never asked any questions, she never asked any in return. Our discussion only confirmed what I had suspected all along. Had she carried a Child, I would not have asked who was the Father. It would have been my Child, whatever the true Father was."

"Then I recommend you let her undergo the procedure. She deserves a fair chance at living in this cycle."

"Your questions clarified the situation, Prince Harp. Give me a minute to communicate with the Healer, and I will be available for this meeting, the mind clear of charge."

"Certainly, Dunbar. We will wait on you. That meeting can be held back for such a valid cause," declared Harold.

A few minutes later, Dunbar sat at the table and spotted the little Orc for the first time.

"Who is that quiet one? Is he related to the King of Orcs, Tarik?"

"No, I adopted him, Dunbar," replied Colibri. "He is an orphan of the Miniature Orcs variety. His name is Yousef. Hey, Tarik, I totally forgot to introduce you to this little angel!"

"I was wondering when you would come to it. Do not worry; I do not plan to steal the jewel of your heart. And he is indeed cute!"

"Okay, Boys, we are getting close to Atlantis One, and it is time we get our minds in order," started Harold as the usual morning conference was called to order. "Do we have definitive species names for the three we managed to recover?"

"Yes, Dad," replied Harp. However, it is not a sound we are likely to be able to ever produce! Try talking Fish "

"I get it. I am beginning to understand the code used by Atlantis One for species naming. Next. What have you learned from the study of the Cubes?"

"A lot, Dad. And it is not nice," began Paschal. "Their brain is positronic. They are completely artificial. Note I put the tense to the present. I found a story in an Ancient Archive, and they called the Cubes the Borgs, for Cyborgs; but they were totally off track on how these things worked. They thought they were a combination of carbon life forms and machine. We know better. They are pure machine, much closer to the AI of the Pyramids."

"That is interesting and scary."

"That is not all. I was reading some Archives rescued from Atlantis One found in the Royal Archives of Atlantis Two and in Kantar. They mention receiving a visit from a Cube but that it continued on its way. I am not finished looking at the data. The pyramids are hard at work trying to finish cross-indexing the data. The rest of the work should be done within the next few weeks, which can only tell you the volume of data to work with."

"Okay. Enron?"

"I have begun working with the Dolphins. They are remarkably intelligent. Did you know they have poetry? They talk about the depth of the sea, the flow of currents, the beauty of the hunt "

"My kind of love!" piped up Greywolf.

"Yes, I know. I am working to find a way to make them progress to space faring, but it will take time. They are more artistic than most of us and very playful. By the way, their population now numbers 50 couples. That is a slow, but remarkable comeback from the original five couples."

"Yes it is. Insure the reinsertion of genetic variance. Runt?"

"I am working on the Australopithecus Regressi with Enron and Harp. We hope to bring them in the fold within a few thousand years. They are fascinating and very peaceful. As with the Dolphins, their Elevation will be a long lasting endeavour. Luckily, the fact that we now live in a Tessaract of gargantuan proportions is going to push things a bit forward."

"I see you have acquired shape shifting to a fine art, Runt and yet you have not bonded to a particular Dragon. Are you sure you want to keep that name?"

"Ness offered until I found my own. And I do want to keep Runt as my name. It will keep anyone from ever trying to ridicule a small one ever again."

"I hope so! Rockhook?"

"There are 1,000,000 or so Goblins out of stasis and functional. We have decided to delay reactivating the artificial wombs until we are all out. I had some issues with some of the original, and oldest Goblins in incubation, but a couple of razors took care of the issue. I love the Atlanteans’ way of dealing with betrayal and treason. I am also glad Harp reprogrammed their skin colour to match my light brown one. We look less sick that way."

"Colibri?"

"Most of the Children of my village are out of stasis as well. I have decided and asked that the Adults be kept in it until such time as we can deal with them. The Healers agreed. When the Children have all acquired sufficient Magic to hold their own, then we will take the Adults out of stasis progressively. They better adjust if they want to keep their pieces tied together."

"My, my! The Harp Therapy seems popular "

"Except for those that have to take it."

"Harp, what is up with the Felines?"

"We are in the process of treating the FIV. It is going on schedule. Timor is training Spare Ribs and Fang Chao in proper Atlantean etiquette. The Kittens are finding the training a pain, but their respective Dad is making it clear it is the rule of the litter."

"I see. Timor?"

"The Kittens learned early you do not bite a shape-shifter But they still are ferociously independent. They are in the early stage of teens, the roaring fourteens for Humans, and it is typical to oppose authority by any means necessary. It will come to an end."

"Greywolf?"

"We have not had any security issues whatsoever for weeks."

"Sitar?"

"We are still continuing the physical and military training as hard as ever. I have added space Fighter tactics to the training for everyone. Paschal, when do you think we can begin using real Fighters?"

"I am waiting for the visit to Atlantis One to be behind us. We need a stable and secure environment to do the tests, before I put anyone behind the controls."

"Fighters? That is new," commented Harold.

"It came to me that we needed long-range Scouts to spread out our capacity at locating life-sustaining planets. Then I decided that Scouts should be able to not only defend themselves, but also effectively project Atlantean power. Now, the Scouts are able to accommodate any species, even Dolphins the day they show some inclination for the task, and yet remain both stealthy and eminently powerful. We have 9,000 of them, and I intend to put 1,000,000 on the line eventually. This time I used the very fine needle approach. Each Scout contains a single Crew member and carries auto-recall technology which we are familiar with already."

«Okay. Nest Mother?»

«I have begun trying to locate others of my kind. So far, it is without success. If only we could find my home world.»

«I wish I could help you there. However, we have no information about you, not even a hint. The Crew that gave the Gift never managed to raise Atlantis One to inform them of their discovery. Had they been able to, maybe things might have been different. Harp?»

"The College of Magic is running at full capacity. We are planning on expanding the Campus."

"Okay. Typhoon?"

"The next Dragonling batch is ready to bond. Alexander, Tarik and others will receive their shape-shifting capabilities as soon as you execute the Bonding Ritual, my Lord. Too bad we cannot do the Ordeal."

"Who says? Get your teams ready. I can get that done in 24 hours! AI-1 to AI-6, prepare for level two Ordeal, accelerated time interval one on seven!" ordered Ian.

"Ordeal Level two, one on seven awaiting activation!" thundered all six pyramids AI.

"What have you ordered, Son?"

"They will undergo the Ordeal, all six pyramids, in 24 hours. For them, time will be as if it was taking the usual 7 to 14 days, but in fact, they will cram the entire thing in 24 hours. The Level Two insures that if it takes them 14 virtual days, it will be compensated by a differential time flux. Get going guys! I will be waiting for you in 24 hours."

The prepared teams left at a run, and ported right to the entrance to Pyramid One. The moment one team entered the first pyramid the protocol came into play for them. The AI knew the other teams would continue their normal Initiation path, but these two would be accelerated.

"It has started," commented Ian, a few minutes later.

"I have always wanted to know: has there been failures?"

"Close calls, yes. Blatant failures, no," replied Paschal as he looked at Samson.

"What would you call failures?"

"Death."

"I worry about Alexander," said Annabelle.

"If I were you, I will worry about the pyramid! Anyway he is with the Runt. Sven, Jefferson, Tarik, Rockhook, and Tarik’s Dragonling. Dad, these two will bond in the Pyramids at some point. You need to be ready to sanction that bond at any time over the next 24 hours."

"All right. When this happens, get me, any time of the day or night."

"What name did the Dragonling want for his bonding?"

"Falcor¹⁸¹⁸ ("Falcor: It is the luck Dragon, in The Neverending Story by Michael Ende, 1979.")."

"That is nice. Ian, are you sure accelerating things will not prevent them from succeeding?"

"Actually, they have a better chance than we did, Dad."

"Oh? Would you care to elaborate?"

"Sure. First, the Artificial Intelligences of the Pyramids have stopped actively trying to kill those under Ordeal. It takes an intentionally humongous blunder for someone to get killed. Second, when we started, we were living in what amounts to a mental set of the Middle Ages, with a limited knowledge about technology. They have learned a lot living aboard a space ship, and for them, Atlantean technology is a living fact, not a dream. Third, they have lived in Thebes, which is the Mother of all Pyramids, a tessaract of gigantic proportion. They will know how to interact with the Pyramids’ Artificial Intelligences, because they do it daily already. Furthermore, they get educated every time they fall asleep. They learn during their paradoxical sleep phase. We had to learn all in seven days, they have been learning over a year. How do you think Alexander knows so much about the Bridge, or for that matter, Sven or Jefferson? What they will get is a formalisation of their learning, a consolidation of its contents, and it will be done much quicker than it went for us. They even have the advantage of preliminary muscle memory for many physical tasks they will be facing. I suspect the Pyramids will push them to their limits, both as individuals and as teams, but they are much more prepared for that than my team or I was. It will not be easy, because it would not be an Ordeal otherwise, but I am confident they will succeed hands down."

"I see. What else do we have to cover?"

"One question has been bugging me, Dad. Who created the Cubes? They are machines, albeit sophisticated, auto-reproducing machines, but nonetheless, machines!"

"Paschal, you have an idea in that mind of yours, or you would not even talk about it. Out with it!"

"Sitar, you will never make a good detective!"

"Who cares? All I want is results."

"Okay, okay. Here is my idea. The Cubes were created by a life form trying to fight a war. That stimulates your curiosity, does it not, Sitar? Anyway, they were developed for a war, either internal or to fight an invasion. Either way, the creators died, either in the hands of their enemy or, possibly, in the jaws of their machines. Whatever the cause, the machines lost all controls and began expanding in space, with a single objective: reproduce at all costs, destroy all that oppose the goal or can pose a threat to it."

"That is sobering."

"That is not all. I have been thinking. How do you program a positronic brain? I know how I did for the Pyramids. I mapped my own in them when I created the AI. And we know what was the result of that from the initial Ordeal. Fortunately, I had prepared resets. If I had not thought of that safety feature, we would have probably died."

"That means," said Annabelle, as she turned white as a sheet.

"That means the Cubes we destroyed carried a copy of a biological brain imprinted in the positronic brain of the core Cube. Furthermore, each baby Cube probably carried a copy or part of the core Cube’s brain."

"Again, the question comes to haunt us: should we try contact?"

"My answer remains the same as Ian’s: No! The reason behind this is simple. If I wanted to create a war machine with a brain so it could think for itself, whose brain would I put in? A peaceful individual, or a person that can well be a border schizophrenic and sociopath?"

"Is that not a direct path to disaster?"

"There Dad, I agree. And I think the creators realised it too late. Remember the Ancients and their failed attempt at creating the perfect Soldier? It seems that the obsession with the perfect killing machine reached its apotheosis with the Cubes."

"So, Paschal, you are not the guy that puts questions on the table without first trying to find a plausible answer. Who did it?" Timor asked.

"Remember, we sent nanobots in a Cube. It did manage to do a partial dump of the Core of that Cube. I have been looking, behind a firewall, at the raw data. I did not run any programs that were there, finding the idea too risky. However, I did look at the dump of raw data. One of the biggest surprises I found was a partial trace of interstellar travel. Partial because it starts and ends somewhere. The interesting thing is that it indicates two things: first, the Cube in question travels in a spiral around the galaxy. Second, and that important, it crossed our path twice! Once when we destroyed it, and once where we are going!"

"What does that mean?" wondered Ian.

"It means that, at some point, a Cube visited Atlantis One. When? Mystery. The Archives of Atlantis One suffer a serious flaw: dating. So I cannot get a fix from them either. It also means that we can project the history of that Cube’s trajectory around the galaxy. I have enough data to estimate the spiral it followed. It was coming back to the Galaxy’s core."

"And?" asked Sitar.

"Given the speed I could calculate from the partial record, it travels at an average of warp 9 between stars, with long stays at some types of stars, mostly G types, but occasionally K types. It takes a Cube about 5,000,000,000 years to go from the core to the periphery, and another 5,000,000,000 years to go from the periphery to the core. So, the Cube we destroyed has been travelling around this galaxy for 7,000,000,000 years, assuming the creators are near the Galactic core. It does not visit every star, but only those it finds on the plane of its spiral. That does not preclude there are no other Cubes, doing the same thing on other planes in the Galaxy, or for that matter, Cubes sharing some common stars on their diet!"

"That still does not tell us "

"Dad, you are asking too much. But look at this projection of the spiral on the Galaxy. Now, if we meet another Cube and we can download a partial path, I can intercept the two and that will reduce the number of points considerably. A third spiral would nail it to a single point. Then we could backtrack the Galaxy in time, until a number of stars matched those coordinates. We would then have a very limited subset of the Galaxy’s stars as potential candidates."

"The only cubes I like are fondue Bourguignon!" said Timor, trying to bring some levity in the room.

"So, are we done for this morning?" asked Harold.

No one raised further points so everyone left to do their day’s work.

***

The day passed slowly. Ian visited the Pterodactyls. Harp spent the day running exams for Mages at the College of Magic. Paschal added 20 additional wings to the College for classes. Timor spent the day with Iridia as she was nearing delivery. Tarik’s Privy Council met and spent the day studying a proposal by an Adult, until someone called to attention that what this proposal said was tantamount to removing Tarik of power. The result was instantaneous: a shortened Orc Adult. Also, they studied a proposal to include the Dwarf Orcs as full members, and approved it unanimously. The Privy Council reminded the Dwarf Orcs that their Children had priority over all other considerations. The Council, however hard some Adults might try to silence the youngsters, would hear the Children’s voice. No Child would be silenced because he or she said things the Adults did not want to hear. Colibri took Yousef, Tom and Jerry to visit Thebes, meeting Ian for a picnic at the Pterodactyls’ tessaract.

Nestor spent the day preparing a letter to Harold. He had decided to resign his commission and spend some time exploring the tessaracts and Thebes. Within his letter, he recommended that Michael Evans Ferriday, the current Ambassador to the Wolf Court, be named in his stead. The charge of Ambassador would be abolished by the nomination. Nestor figured that the College of Magic no longer needed one since it was an intimate part of the Imperial Administration. Nestor did not regret the apparent loss of autonomy. He felt it insured a safety net should, one day, a Mage try to corrupt the College ideals for his own purposes.

Greywolf visited old friends, and spent an hour with the old Gold Dragon King, wishing him speedy recovery in the stasis chamber. He then visited a few Dragon friends with Ness and mated with a Green female Dragon, thus adding a bit of his gene pool to the Dragons’ collective and strengthening the bonds that linked every species on board Thebes.

Ian popped at the General Hospital and checked on Francesca. Nothing had really changed. How stubborn can you be, Francesca? He thought. You have refused to change in virtually 6,000 years. I am beginning to wonder if you are worth all the resources Atlantis is pouring into you. Maybe it is time for a reset in your case.

Paschal returned to the study of the data stream collected from the Cubes after his visit to the College of Magic to add some buildings. Maybe there was something he had missed, a tip, anything, that might guide him in refining his research. He hoped the nearing point of emergence near Atlantis One would give him what he needed, but he had some doubts. Atlantis One’s primary star had already made several orbits of the Galactic core since that Cube had crossed its path. It had been AI-6’s obsession with anything related to Atlantis One, including plotting its trajectory in time, which had allowed the AI to notice the coincidental data.

Spare Ribs and Fang Chao explored their new domain, feeling at ease within the Royal Suite and at home. They took their Kittens out one at a time to make them discover their new world and educate them in proper etiquette when you are a family Cat.

«You never eat the hand that feeds you,» explained Spare Ribs, «and these ones feed us very well indeed. They cured us of a deadly sickness, and we will abide by their rules. We are free to explore, and we will do so, but under no consideration will we harm any of them, is that clear? If you must absolutely learn to hunt and feel the rush of the kill, we were told where to go and that is what we will do.»

«What about the other four-legged?» asked every Kitten as they met the Dogs and Wolves.

«They are off-limits!»

«Does this apply to those that swing their tail back and forth all the time? It is so gross! I think they always want to fight!» asked one of the Kittens.

«Yes it does! They have been protecting us and have been with the two-legs for far more time than we have. They are close allies of the Providers! And I talked to the Mother. She explained that the Canines, as they are called, have a different body language than we do, and that the tail swinging tells others they are happy to see them. The Mother explained to the Canines that the same action in the Felines, us if you need to get your brain cleansed, means we are ready to fight. The other misunderstanding is the tail standing straight up above the back. For the Canines, it means the Canine is an Alpha, or a dominant in his Clan, for us, it indicates we are proud.»

«Clan?»

«A Clan is an extended family. The Canines have long-lasting bonds between members of their family. This is one thing we will need to learn, because it gives them an advantage: if attacked they team up. We split. I have seen them bring down an animal 10 times their size in the hunting grounds, an animal I would have been hard put to kill!»

***

Around matins, Iridia’s waters broke and labour began. The Hospital Staff immediately alerted Ian, Harp, Enron, and naturally Timor. A completely panicked Timor ran to the Hospital from their home, completely forgetting he could port. The labour was getting to Iridia, and Harp, using Mage sight, studied the rather sturdy embryo. Figuring the new life form would split Iridia if the birth would be left to go on naturally, he decided to port the Baby out with the help of Ian and Enron. Timor was too out of it to be of any help whatsoever, worried as he was for Iridia and unborn his Baby.

Stripping Iridia with a flip of the wrist, Harp told Ian to focus on monitoring Iridia, and Enron to check on the Baby while he prepared to port the Baby a few inches out of the body immediately after cutting the umbilical cord by Magic.

"We have less than 20 seconds between the moment I cut the umbilical cord and the need for the first breath, Enron, monitor the heartbeat, and be ready to clear the lungs of fluids! Iridia, to maximise the Baby’s oxygen supply, I need you to crouch down on the bed, like you were trying to take a dump on it."

"You have images!" the Princess replied as she had another violent contraction that left her breathless.

"Hey, I get the message across, do I not?"

After helping Iridia to get in position, Ian began the procedure. He pinched the umbilical cord as close as possible to the placenta and pressed the blood back into the Baby, maximising its quantity. Then, he materialised a clamp in position, and then a scalpel and cut the cord. A second later, after verifying that the clamp held, he ported the Baby out.

"Clearing the passages!" said Enron as the Baby was turned on its belly, head down, and a gentle pressure was exerted on the thoracic cage to expel amniotic fluids from the lungs, the nose and the mouth. "It is done. Breathing at normal. Get me a washcloth, I have to remove the film."

"How is the Mother?"

"The heart rate and blood pressure is stabilising. At one point I thought she would have pre-eclampsia," replied Ian.

Enron, after wiping the Baby of the neonatal film, washed the body clean with lukewarm water matching Iridia’s internal body temperature.

"Still no cries?" asked Harp. "Verify reflexes!"

"Hey, he feels comfortable with all that warm water around him and he is not hungry. The reflexes are within parameters. Wait until he begins to clamour for food. A Baby is a digestive system equipped with a loud-speaker to get supplies and no volume control!" said Enron. "I remember Ian all too well!" earning him a glare from the aforementioned Ian.

"He?" Timor whimpered.

"Oh yes, he has 21 bits, a lot of body hair from head to foot, blue eyes, Iridia’s sharp nose but your strong jaw. You have a Son, Timor," replied Harp.

Taking the Baby out of the tub, Enron wiped him dry, and put it on Iridia’s breasts. The Mother looked positively radiant as she held the tiny Fairy-Troll. Timor moved closer and looked at his Son, eyes in tears. He had a Son!

"Before you go jumping and crying around, Timor, go outside, okay? And I mean outside of the Hospital, not the room. I do not want you to startle the Baby with loud noises," said Harp.

"Oh yes. You are right, my Prince! I am off. Iridia, do not go anywhere, but I got to release the joy somehow or I will burst!"

Enron chuckled as the huge Troll left the room and gently closed the door.

"That was close. I thought he would split at the seams!"

"So, Iridia, how are you doing?"

"I am feeling fine, but something bugs me still."

"I am looking into it," replied Harp. "The placenta has not detached yet, but it should within a few minutes. Generally, the stress of giving birth helps in the process, but magical birthing are another matter entirely. I am going to induce a couple of contractions and hopefully, nature will take its course."

After a couple of contractions that made Iridia wince and lose breath, the placenta finally consented to begin its way to the exit.

"Since you might have lost too much blood during the placental expulsion, I have forced the blood back into your body, Iridia. Nonetheless, there will be some loss. I will supplement your diet with haemoglobin for a few days, maybe a week, until the blood counts come back to normal."

"Okay. That was the pressure I felt?"

"Yes."

"Here comes the placenta. Relax, do not force it out," said Ian.

Fifteen minutes later the placenta was on the bed sheet that were immediately replaced with fresh ones. Ian washed Iridia from head to foot with lukewarm water with a sponge, and then the bed sheets were changed again.

"Where is my Baby?"

"Right beside you, Iridia. He has been watching everything with cute eyes. Do you want him?"

"Oh yes!"

"There."

As the Baby settled and fell asleep, Ian looked at Iridia.

"I doubt you can breast-feed him enough Iridia. This is a mix Fairy and Troll. I am sure that his appetite will show the Troll side and you will never make enough milk. There are many options to help you supplement his diet."

"Oh? I never thought about the issue. What are the options?"

"Let us see: bottle feeding, like the Ancients did; Troll, Wolf, Horse Mare, Elf, Human, Dwarf feeding Nanny."

"You have aligned all those for me?"

"Well, sort of I would be any and all of them," said Ian.

"You would? I cannot ask that from my Liege Lords!"

"Come on, Iridia. We are family. It would please us immensely to feed the little tyke."

"Are you sure, Enron? You already have so much to do!"

"Hey, never enough not to care for one of ours!" said Harp.

Just then Timor came back, looking as nervous as ever, but slightly more in control.

"Where did you go?" asked Ian.

"I took a dive off a glacier in the Arctic tessaract. I think I suddenly contributed to the rise in sea level from the mass of my pride!"

"Are you sure it was not from melting the ice from it?" asked Enron, smiling.

"Maybe."

"The Princes have offered to help me breast-feed our Son."

"That is nice!"

"You do not understand. They will shift shape and lactate on demand!"

"Oh! I can do that too, you know!"

"Yes, and we count on it, Timor. You do the Troll Mamma!" replied Ian smiling. "We do the rest! It will be so fun!"

"Have you two thought of a name yet?"

"If your Dad has no objection and you do not either, Prince Ian, we would give him the name Harold Ian?" said Iridia.

"I see no objection. He will have the biggest collection of Godfathers ever!"

"And be spoiled rotten!" added Harp, as he cleansed the birthing room. Turning to Iridia, he materialised a small comb. "Given he is as hairy as his Dad, I suggest you keep him combed from head to foot, otherwise the hair will tangle in a mess."

"Yes. Thank you. Timor, do you want to hold your Son?" asked Iridia.

"Oh yes! But I am so afraid to break him."

"Do not worry. He is protected by Magic. The place could blow up and he would be unscathed," replied Ian.

"Oh! Okay. Thank you."

Just as Timor was looking at his Son, the bundle of energy woke up and peed, spraying everything around like a Fireman with a hose.

"Just like his Dad!" exclaimed Iridia, much to Timor’ embarrassment.

The fur bundle began crying for food and his loud voice could be heard from one end of the wing to the next.

"Feeding time, I think. I will go first," said Iridia.

The Baby immediately began suckling on Iridia’s right breast on presentation.

"If he sucks like that every time, I will be very sore shortly."

"I can numb the feeling, but it might be dangerous for you since you would not know when your breast is empty," said Harp.

After switching breasts a couple of seconds later, Iridia replied.

"I can count one, two, three, and it becomes too painful. He dries me up almost instantly. Which of these Gentlemen wants to take over? I am sure he is not satisfied!"

Timor switched sex and lactated as he took his little Son to feed him.

"He does have a powerful suction. Ah. He is finished. Given how bloated his stomach is it is about time. Little burp and then you sleep with Mom, little one."

"We will leave you three for the rest of the night. Iridia, leave the feeding to Timor. You are tired and just birthed. He is fresh as a rose even if he is as skittish as a newborn Colt," said Enron.

"Tomorrow, you get your special diet, three times daily. I will do a blood test tomorrow night and check on the recovery," said Harp.

"And as soon as Vampire Harp says your blood levels and immunity are back to normal, it is the presentation of Harold Ian to the family, and his formal induction in the Atlantean Royalty," added Ian.

"Let us get going, guys. We have a long day ahead of us, and I need my beauty sleep!"

"Harp, you could sleep a thousand years, and you would not get beautiful!"

"Ian, little Brother, your arse is mine for that comment!"

"Do not worry, Harp. He says that because he is jealous of Thorsten!" replied Enron.

"I am not!"

"Yes you are!"

"I am not!"

"Yes!"

"Not!"

The exchange continued to be heard from Iridia’s room until the Boys had walked down a ramp to a lower floor.

"So much power, but still Kids!" said Iridia.

"Hey, so am I! In my Troll form, I have just begun puberty!"

"I know and that makes you so fun to be with. Never grow up, Timor!"

"I cannot. Time has its own laws."

"Sadly."

***

The next morning saw the return of the two teams that had left for their Ordeal. Their experience in the Pyramids had changed them. Before, they were a team, now they were one Conscience in many bodies.

Tarik joined the Royals at their table accompanied by a gold Boy.

"My Lord Harold, I request the bond I forged with my Dragonling be recognised by Atlantis."

"And what is the name under which you shall now be known?" asked Harold as he turned toward the Dragon Boy.

"I wish to be known as Falcor, your Majesty."

"Does this bonding have the approval of the Dragon Court?"

"Yes, Harold Pharaoh Horus," replied Typhoon.

"Then, by the power vested in me by Magic, I declare you, Tarik, bonded for eternity to Falcor and you Falcor, bonded for eternity to Tarik. May you share in love and Magic, and stand together for the cause of the Orcs, the Dragons, and of Atlantis!"

After a round of applause, Harold looked at the returning teams.

"Are there any more bonding?"

Jefferson stood up.

"Yes?"

"I have felt the urge to bond with my Dragonling for the past month, my Lord. We were rather occupied, so I delayed asking. Can I now do so?"

"Sure. Where is your future bonded?"

"He is still at the nest, awaiting impatiently to get your visit."

"Then, by all means, let us go. Port us to the nest. Typhoon?"

"I will be porting to the nest as well."

The sudden return of his future mate took the Red Dragon by surprise, but he gladly received the visitors.

"I am here to bond you to Jefferson. What name would you like to be known by from this moment on?"

"Haku¹⁹¹⁹ ("Haku: Dragon found in Miyazaki Hayao’s Spirited Away."), my Lord."

"Does this bonding have the approval of the Dragon Court?"

"Yes, Harold Pharaoh Horus," replied Typhoon

"Then, by the power vested in me by Magic, I declare you, Jefferson, bonded for eternity to Haku and you Haku, bonded for eternity to Jefferson. May you share in love an Magic, and stand together for the cause of the Humans, the Dragons, and of Atlantis!"

The flash of Magic was intense as Jefferson and Haku bonded. The flash had not occurred for Tarik and Falcor simply because they had bonded during the Ordeal.

"Haku, join us at the Royal table so we can finish our breakfast."

"Thank you, your Majesty."

The Dragon converted into a ruby-scaled Boy and, taking his cue from Jefferson, ported to the mess hall with the Royals. Ian, Harp and Enron walked in just as the small expedition returned to the Hall.

"Hey, Boys! Slept late this morning?" asked Harold.

"Yes. We spent half the night at the Hospital."

"Oh?"

"Iridia gave birth."

"She did?" shrieked Annabelle and Amethyst. "Let us go! I want to see the Baby!"

"Sit down, Mom, the Baby will not run away! Finish, err, start your breakfast! Iridia is very tired and is probably sleeping still!"

"But the Baby must be hungry!" piped up Amethyst.

"With Mamma Timor breast-feeding? If the Baby does not drown in milk, it will be a miracle!" said Ian.

"Timor is breast-feeding the Baby?" asked a flabbergasted Amethyst.

"Why the shocked looks, Amethyst? I breast-fed the two Kittens for months!" replied Harp.

"It was you?"

"Some people are really blind when they do not want to see something, eh, Harp?" commented Ian.

"Anyway, to make things clear for everyone, it was a very tiring night for Iridia, and I have prescribed full rest for a minimum of two days. That means no visitors. When Iridia’s blood counts are back to normal, she and Timor will bring the Baby to the Royal Suite, and we will proceed to the official presentation of the new member of the Fairy-Troll Court. Iridia is on a special iron-rich diet. I need to monitor her closely."

"Bjorn, the no visitors prohibition also extends to Grandfathers!" said Ian, as he watched the big Troll fidget.

***

Iridia’s recovery went much faster than what Harp had anticipated. The next morning, the blood counts were perfect, and the overjoyed couple left the maternity ward for the Imperial Palace with a spring in their steps. Well, Timor had a spring in his, since Iridia was comfortably sitting on his shoulders in his warm fur, holding their Son in her arms.

The entire Imperial Court was present in the Room of Recognition, and no one was surprised to see a new figure was present on the mosaic. A little Baby was present, in a Baby carrier, between Iridia and Timor.

"What do we do, my Lord?" asked an anxious Iridia.

"The task is simple. You see that little hand print in the wall? Bring your Son near it and, knowing Magic, it will call to the Baby and he will put his right hand on the print."

Timor and Iridia walked to the wall, put in their heirloom, and then presented the Baby to the wall. As Harold had explained, the Baby, that had been asleep until then, woke up, began babbling, and then pressed his right hand directly where he needed to. He then stayed there, totally immobile for 15 seconds, an eternity for a newborn Baby, then removed his hand. The Baby figure in the mosaic lit up, and a delicate crystal appeared in place of the hand-shaped alveoli.

"You can recover his heirloom in his stead, Timor."

Timor extended his hand and gently touched the crystal with his right hand. It fell in his palm, showing a variety of little points in movement.

"What is it, my Lord?"

"A representation of the Galaxy. I am proud to present to all Harold Ian, the first Atlantean born amongst the stars! Welcome to the family!"

Thunderous applause received the new member of the family.

"Let us go the mess hall were a buffet worthy of our new arrival will be served!" declared Harold, as he stood up.

Everyone wanted to see the new Baby, so Timor stood at the door leading to the portals and proudly displayed his joy with a beaming Iridia sitting on his left shoulder.

Amongst the visitors to see the Baby were Fang Chao, Spare Ribs, and their family.

«Tiny Kitten,» said Spare Ribs, as he eyed, perplexed, the reddish fur ball.

«You were no bigger when you were born to your biological Mother,» replied Timor. «I have rescued newborn Kittens enough to know.»

«The big two-legs is right. Our Kittens were no bigger,» replied Spare Ribs’ mate.

«Food?» asked one of the Fang Chao’s Kittens.

«No!» replied in a same voice all Adults present.

«What is this obsession with food?» asked Harp.

«If I remember, you almost ate me out of my Kingdom, Harp, so do not point a paw at anyone!» replied Samson.

«But I am always hungry!» said the Kitten.

«Hey! A kindred spirit! Let us go raid the Imperial kitchen! Come with me!» Five Sabre-tooth Snow Leopards took off on the run for the kitchen, four following Harp as best they could.

"Paschal, port to the kitchen and get the Cook out of the way! I am not sure Harp will not make him into a steak this time!" ordered Harold.

«Will our Kittens be safe?» asked one of the mates.

«The she-Cat nursed us back to health. I know it is a he now, and I do not understand everything, but I am sure nothing bad will happen to them.»

«Spare Ribs is right. I worry more about our food reserve than about your Kittens,» replied Ian.

«And as to why the one known as Harp is a male now, you know we can change shape. You tried enough times to bite us to know it. We change shape, we become Mothers, bear and feed Kittens, and we Father Kittens of many species. We are one species in numerous forms,» tried to explain Enron.

«She who is he had Kittens?»

«Many.»

«Will they be able to change too?»

«We hope so. Join us in the Mess Hall for the rejoicing.»

***

"Dad, while I was in the Hall of recognition, I noticed Francesca’s image blink. It bothered me so I looked at her mental state in the chamber. She tried many times to commit suicide, which the stasis chamber would not let happen. Her mental state is totally disorganised. From what I gather, she hopes to escape and be reborn out of our reach and start what I could best qualify as an horror power trip."

"That news is disturbing, Harp. What do you suggest?"

"We transfer her knowledge base to the Conscience of the Wolves. Then we dissociate her soul into its components. Sekhmet, as a God of Healing, will be no more. She is too dangerous to be left intact on the Wheel of Life. Even the Minotaur had redeemable aspects. She has lost all reason and hates us with a passion that would burn steel. Even Life would find her toxic."

"Why ask me, Son? And who would take the mantle of God of Healing?"

"Because she is Atlantean, and you are the Pharaoh, Dad, As to the second question, I have no idea. I suspect once Francesca Sekhmet is dispersed, that figure will dull, and, someday, it will begin to come back to life once we find a substitute worthy of the title. It may be, also, that the substitute is already waiting for her to dissolve in the Halls of Time to come forth."

«Ah, the heavy burden of the Crown weights down on my poor neck. Has everyone followed Harp’s comments concerning Francesca?»

After receiving acknowledgements from those present, Harold continued.

«Does anyone have a proposition that would let us not kill for eternity a soul?»

None was offered.

"Manasa, as the bonded, you have a privileged position in this," noted Typhoon. "Do you have any comment?"

"My Lords, I tried to keep track of what was happening within the mind of the one named Francesca. I came to a conclusion. For as yet an unknown reason, her mind triggered the Atlantean trap left by your ancestors to poison the Soul-eater’s food supply: Madness. She is unrecoverable. I have therefore bonded with others, and I am waiting on your Imperial Highness to break the bond between Francesca and I. I have retired from the bond in order to keep my own sanity. I hope I will not experience the pain Tarik suffered. We are not used to dealing with these emotions, as you call them."

"You did the right thing, Daughter of the Flock. I hereby ask my Liege Lord to grant the dissolution of the bond," said Typhoon, as he looked at Harold.

"We, Harold, Thor, Horus, Pharaoh of Atlantis, Liege Lord of the Dragons, hereby dissolve by Magic what was created by Magic. Bond unwind, break and sever, separate forever Manasa and Francesca, for so we order Magic to do!"

Manasa sagged for a bit, then recovered her stature.

"It is past, my Lords. It was painful, but the other bonded helped deal with it."

"Dad, what do we do with Francesca?" asked Harp.

«Son, this burden is too heavy for a single head, be it crowned. I call the People of Atlantis to the vote. The question to all my subjects is this: shall we disperse the soul of Francesca, Sekhmet, the God of Healing, given her soul itself seems to have been damaged irremediably?»

The vote began. The Canines, the Equines, the bipeds each took their turn at the voting booths, as the AI of Thebes tallied the count. Children aged one and a half and older had the same weight as venerable thousand-year olds. Even the AI, numbered in the low dozen were called on to vote, as Thebes’ Artificial Intelligences had been the first to cast a vote, followed immediately by Harold.

The Felines received an explanation of the circumstances and what had transpired. After lengthy explanation of the history of Atlantis since it began, and the role Francesca had played, the situation she was in, and the decision at hand, Harold offered them the right to vote.

«Consider this your first true step into becoming the Felines of Atlantis, full-fledged members of our society. It is only the fourth time such a vote has been held in the past eight to 10 years. One led to my being proclaimed Legate of the Legions, or, if you prefer, the Great Hunter; the second led to the recognition of Dunbar as Grand Master of the Road, or the Great Tracker; the third was my recognition as King of my people. The status of King of Kings, or Pharaoh, was done by Kantar’s AI, and endorsed by the others as they became aware of the AI’s decision. It is rare, very rare, and it is the first time ever that all Atlanteans are called upon to vote as a people, across all species.»

«We are honoured. How do we proceed?»

«The Artificial Intelligence of Thebes will call on you individually. You need not broadcast your vote, it will know your wish.»

«Then so it is.»

«Thebes?»

«Yes, Harold, Pharaoh Horus?»

«Add the eight Felines on the roll call for the vote please.»

«At your command.»

«How many have voted already?»

«Already, 10% have done so. We should have a tally of all votes by vespers. Excluded from the vote are those currently in stasis.»

«That is acceptable.»

"Let us go back to the Imperial Suite, Dad. I feel like I am carrying a burden on my shoulders."

"Ian, just wait until you bear the Imperial Crown and then you will know what the word burden means."

***

Deep, deep in space, an armada assembled. Composed of millions of ships, it blackened the stars of the Galaxy core, and set sail to its destination at transwarp speed. The destruction of one of theirs had triggered the alarm, and the nature of the destruction had led the Collective to believe they had found a trace of those who had threatened their hegemony in the past. Time to get rid of the varmint!

«We had thought we had destroyed them completely by destroying their home world, but it seems some of them survived! This time, none shall!» transmitted the Collective to all the individual members that constituted its composite core.

«The Heirs of the Founders shall perish! Glory to the Collective!» replied the components.

«Glory to the Collective!» replied the Collective, in response to the ritual greeting.

The individual ships merged as they reached warp nine, ready to undertake the transwarp transition and begin to accrue the energy to jump right across the Galaxy to their target. Once all ships had binded, the Collective activated the slipstream drive and entered transwarp.

Thirty minutes later, it had accrued enough energy to do the quantum jump across the Galaxy, passing right through the super-massive black hole that occupies the centre of the Milky Way.

«Initiating quantum jump! Now!»

A powerful flash of light marked the sudden disappearance of a sizeable portion of the quantum space continuum. The emergence of the monolithic armada tore a hole in the receiving area of space-time, disrupting its very fibres, not that the Collective gave a damn about it. It was on the hunt.

«Disengaging transwarp.»

The slowing-down was as time-consuming as the acceleration had been.

«Disengage fusion.» ordered the Collective as soon as the huge ship reached warp nine. «Sustain speed. Prepare weapons!»

Out, far ahead of the incoming armada, lay a black hole, a black hole that had special significance to them.