The Prophesy: Book 4 - Armageddon

 

"It has been an hour since Ian’s innovative method to ferret out magical beings and those with potential. How many species have you found, Harp?" asked Harold.

"Dad! It takes the bubble 8.5 hours to expand by one light-year. We will not be seeing another star system for 76 hours. The point of origin of the bubble is sparsely populated. With stars an average every 10 light-years apart. The first one we meet is the last one we crossed on our way there, nine light-years off. But things will pick up dramatically as the sphere expands according to the formula S = 4πr². As S increases, it is more likely to intercept a star system."

"Luckily for us, the detonation was off centre, located in the far edge of the Local Arm of the Galaxy, the one to which the Earth belonged. I must warn you through. The gravitational wave will create a pressure front on interstellar dust. The consequences will be a burst of new-born stars in about 10 to 15 million years," said Paschal. "And it will be followed by an inner ring of new-born stars as the energy wall pushes on the dust at the speed of light. That one will be slower to form and, to be honest, except for us, no one will be able to associate the two events because they will be too far apart in time and space."

"Have you found mithril or orichalque so far?"

"Yes. Unfortunately, it is dispersed as a fine dust, representing, for mithril about 58 parts per million, and for orichalque, is at 10^-9 parts per million. Fortunately for us, orichalque has a strong binding capacity with itself; unfortunately, the process is only in its infancy here."

"What are we doing here then? There is no life, there is no orichalque to collect "

"You will have to ask Ian. He made the choice."

"I plan to once he is back from his raid on the kitchen."

"I hope he will leave us some food! Given the amount of magical energy he spent, I sent a Guard off to tell the Cook to get out of there before he got to it. The Cook, as you know, is a giant piece of sausage, and given Ian’s hunger He might convert to Sabre-tooth Leopard and have Cook-kabob!"

Just then, Ian returned from the kitchen raid, stomach round and taut with food.

"Did you eat the Cook?" asked Harold, perched on his Admiral seat as he surveyed the Bridge.

"I am not a scavenger! I leave rotten meat to others!"

"Fine by me, Son. I wanted to know why we are here since there is no life."

"There are two reasons. First, no one expects us to go into a dust cloud. It is not true anymore, but for far-away observers, it still is like that. Second, I did a numerical model of atomic generation a few months ago, and I came upon a potential magical atom, tentatively named the X atom. It should be ejected from the core of a super-giant star right before a black hole forms and be very rare, in the order of 10^-25 atoms per million."

"Physical characteristics?" asked Harp as he began programming a filter.

"Let me see. The nucleus is composed of 400 protons and 612 neutrons, giving the nucleus a mass of 1,012, bond by super-gluons wrapped in a hexagonal crystalline structure. The atoms can only bind with each other, because the outer shell of electrons is full. The thing is, according to the model, it resonates in dimension six at a frequency of one teracycle per second. I did some tests, and it came back positive on that. The model predicts that a pair of such atoms bond together has as much magical storage capacity as one of the Crystals. So we do not need to find many to get a substantial boost in energy reserve."

"How?"

"The nucleus is organised in a crystalline form rather than being an amorphous and fluid soup of protons and neutrons. The super gluons keep them immobile, with a hollowed-out vacuum that acts as Magic reserve as the atom spins on itself at subluminal speed. The two atoms spin at -½ and +½ spin, thus respecting the Pauli exclusion principle. These atoms are super-fermions and represent the third level of stability in atoms. Mathematically, there is a fourth range, but not even super-novas can produce them. Maybe the matter-antimatter annihilation process I triggered did, but I cannot be sure of that until we can go check, and that will not be tomorrow! The binding of the two X atoms is not done via electromagnetic forces, which are too weak to handle that kind of massive atom, but by the Magic strings themselves: an atom ‘catches’ the end of a string, another atom catches the other end and they spin toward each other at the speed of light, finally becoming binded by the string as they continue spinning in opposite directions. They store energy through the string. At regular intervals the two atoms instantly reverse spin and the string moves from one atom core to the other until it reaches the end, and then the process repeats in the other direction."

"Can they bond in any other way?"

"No. That is the ultimate noble gas. It will never be anything but a gas."

"Even at absolute zero?"

"It cannot ever reach absolute zero, Dad. Ever."

"Why?"

"Because Magic string energy is not thermal in nature."

"He is right. Magical energy can affect any other form, but it is independent of them."

"What about neutrinos?"

"A neutrino meeting that behaves like a billiard ball meeting a queue. I have finished setting the collector for that elusive X atom. What next, Ian?"

"While we wait for the first magical ping, we travel this area. It contains enough matter we could possibly find a couple of bonded pairs, and possibly a dozen unbounded ones. Establish a search pattern, covering 500 cubic parsecs, Samson."

"Origin?"

"Use our current location."

"Done. I am transferring the pattern to Enron."

"Engage warp nine. Estimate the duration of the search."

"The control says around 40 days."

"Not bad, we can live with that. What search pattern did you select?"

"A three-dimensional spiral rotating on all three axis as we move. That way, we will not miss anything and never need to come back behind to recheck or even change trajectory."

"What about stars?"

"We fly through them."

"Okay. That will be one show I do not want to miss."

"Sit down, and watch. The initial star we are to slam into is a super-giant, and it is a minute off. It is part of a triple-star system, all three giants rotating counter-clockwise around an empty barycentre. The configuration is unstable, and should release one of its members within a few thousand years," said Samson.

"Forward screen open! Rear screen on the left! Global projection from flux on the right," ordered Ian.

"Done. Progressive filtering installed to maintain constant luminosity," Thorsten said.

The Atlantean space ship entered the giant star at warp nine and was out of it in the blink of an eye. Behind the ship, a protuberance several million miles long marked its passage through the star, but before anyone could even evaluate the impact, the sphere had entered and exited the next member of the Triumvirate. The only way they could judge that fact was the navigational display.

"Results?"

"The first star is so massive it will blow up within 10,000 years. The second one not too long afterward."

"And what about atom X, which I hereby name Ianium?" decreed Harold.

"None found. But we are headed straight for the expansion wall of a freshly detonated supernova, and I think we will have a fair chance to find at least a couple of bonded atoms."

"How do you collect them, Harp?"

"I have installed a ship wide network of hooks that catch Magic strings. Those that interest us have a specific resonance when struck by the hook and it automatically slams the Magic string to a clip-eye of sorts for magical strings. To make sure we collect everything I have the string pushed along a collector attached to a counter. It is still at zero. The only issue is that the atoms must still be separated for this to work. Once bonded, the atoms are too close for the hook to catch the string. There, I have implemented a different method. In bonded atoms, they interact with neutrinos, as Ian told you earlier. I have installed a sort of horn made of orichalque wafers that imprisons neutrinos. They will bounce within that horn and get pushed into a collector. As they bounce, they emit cyclotron radiation, and that is detectable even during warp, if faintly, since cyclotron radiation travels faster than light."

"Okay. I have some courtesy visits to make. The Matriarch has been left to her own devices for too long. And I wonder how the Goblins adjust?"

"I paid a visit yesterday. They seem to be adjusting fine. The reproduction machine is still idle, but I suspect it will not stay that way for long, especially since we are giving them a layer in tessaract five. Enough room for them and then some. The AIs have finished analysing their data. Apparently, some data got corrupted, but they are able to recover most of it. The only crucial part missing is their planet of origin, but, apparently, they had already left their home system when they built that space ship. That data may never have been stored in the first place," replied Typhoon.

"That is unlikely, but then, we were not in their shoes when they built that space ship. They were on the run already," replied Harp.

"You do not even wear shoes most of the time, or, for that matter, anything!" Ian quipped.

"Jealous, little Brother?"

"No, I will catch up one of these days. Paschal, have you considered reconstructing the females for them yet?"

"Yes, and it is more complicated than I thought. I have been kept busy with other issues, and since it does not seem to bother the Goblins, I have put it off. What I have begun to do is to gear up a production line for the Goblin incubators. It is not ready yet, but I hope to be done by next year."

"A year? Why so long?"

"Dad, I have been flooded with side-dish orders from Harp, Ian, and Sitar. I cannot do everything. And I admit my Brothers’ requests have been more urgent than giving the Goblins some toys to play with! And I do have another project that needs to be implemented. I want to have Fighters available to patrol over the horizon of our sensor range. That means Fighters with warp capabilities, and able to mount a credible defence and offence. It is not good to go anywhere blindly without advanced warning of local conditions. It could imperil the Ark and Eden projects. The issue is the Fighter needs to be able to not only enter warp, sustain it for some time, explore, put up a fight, and come back. And it must be adjustable for all our allies, from the tiny Fairies to the huge Pegasuses, from bipeds to quadrupeds."

"Paschal, you are going at this the wrong way."

"What do you mean, Alexander?"

"We are all Mages of some potential. Why not design the bridge of these Scout-Fighters so everything is controlled by telekinesis? That would reduce the amount of work."

"I though of that, but I intend to make these ships controllable by those members of our community that are not Mages. Yes, there will be a magical backdoor to the controls, should they fall in the wrong hands, including a self-destruct mechanism, but, essentially, these Scouts-Fighters are to be designed so our Legions do not feel useless. We do not actually need the Scouts-Fighters, but a feeling of uselessness encourages discontent, and we do not need that. Yes, Mages are growing in the population, but we still represent maybe one in 1,000. It will be several generations before all of our population are able to perform credible Magic."

"Oh, okay. I had not thought of that. Sorry."

"It is all right, Alexander. By the way, have you seen Jefferson today?"

"No, I heard he is studying for his Ordeal. I do not know why, we all know each Ordeal is unique."

"He is insecure. Hopefully, when that is done, he will gain some confidence. We trust him, but he does not trust himself. When is your own Ordeal, little Brother?"

"I plan to do it with him. He is a friend and friends stand together in pleasure and misery."

"That is nice of you. Who else do you think will join?"

"My Dragon, that is for sure. I think I will wait on Rockhook, the Runt and P’Tarik, the Orc. By the way, is he not cute? What a dish!"

"You know that this expression was used by gays some years ago, do you not?"

"So? If they had a good sense of taste, who am I to blame them? And I sure like it when we nest together. It is like having a heated fur coat wrapped around me!"

"Timor would do a bigger blanket."

"Yes, if he did not change to Prince charming every night to play with Iridia! These two do not need any blanket, Dad! Rockhook sleeps in the paws of the Runt, and I cannot blame him. The poor guy does not have a single body hair, from top to bottom, and the space ship must feel cold to him some days."

"So, why is the nest room so cold then?"

"It is not cold. Imagine about 60 bodies sleeping together. We manufacture our own heat, especially the Dragon Boys. It warms up pretty fast. And then, getting and keeping each other warm is half the fun of being in a nest. It encourages physical contact and close bonding. We are even sharing dream space now. I would not have it any other way, and I have talked to Sven, he is as happy as can be, feeling secure in the midst of all his big Brothers."

"I understand, Alexander. I gather there is no problems."

"I would not say that. Sitar pees in bed every night and it must be painful, since he moans a lot."

The explosion of laughter from everyone except a very red-faced Sitar took Alexander totally by surprise.

"Boys, see to it that Alexander gets educated!" said Samson, barely able to talk between hiccoughs of uncontrollable laughter. "And talk to Sven as well. He is probably as in the dark as Alexander."

"Sitar, you might use this?" said Harold, as he materialised a tube of K-Y. "That should reduce the pain at night!"

Poor Sitar turned purple at the tube in his hand, barely holding to it with two fingernails.

"Getting even, Harold?" asked Diamondcutter.

"Yes! That Boy has embarrassed me more than his fair share!"

Alexander kept eyeing everyone, wondering what had happened. He decided, wisely, to put off asking questions to when there were only Kids around.

***

"So, how is the Dragonling getting along?"

"Big, real big! I never knew Dragons could grow that big."

"Oh come on, P’Tarik, you took a ride on King Typhoon, and he is the biggest Dragon around."

"I spent most of the trip fighting the urge to empty my bowels on him! Size sure did not come as a priority to me then! There is a difference between seeing Typhoon and raising one. The Dragonling seems to be eating all the time too. I thought I had a big appetite, but this is a meat-eating tornado."

"Have you talked to him about his given name once you two bond for good?"

"Yes. He wants to be called Apophis."

"Well, Typhoon will want to know. Let us visit him in the Dragons’ Tessaract segment."

It took Harp and P’Tarik a few minutes to reach the entrance to the Dragons’ giant lair, and they had to wait for Typhoon to fly to them once he had received the telepathic call.

"You called, Harp?"

"Yes. P’Tarik’s Dragon wants to be called Apophis when P’Tarik is officially bonded by shape shifting to him. Any objections?"

"No, I see none. When will that be done?"

"In three weeks to a month. Then the two can fly out together while P’Tarik teaches his bonded how to hunt," said Harp.

"I see. I will be there, P’Tarik. You will be the first Orc to ever bond with one of ours and receive our gift."

"All the honour is mine, King Typhoon."

"Stop the formality right there. The moment you managed to get Harp’s attention, you were a Brother to us."

P’Tarik blushed furiously but said nothing.

"When will the Ordeal be called?"

"It depends on Alexander. He is waiting on someone to be ready," said Harp as he gave a wink to Typhoon while thrusting his chin toward P’Tarik.

"Oh, I see. Only six Moons to go."

"What is six months away?" asked P’Tarik, taking Harp and Typhoon by surprise at his understanding of the astronomical reference.

"Alexander’s Ordeal," replied Typhoon.

"I thought he was ready a long time ago?"

"He is, but someone else is not and he wants him in his team badly."

"Oh. Okay."

"Let us go see your Dragonling, and tell him the good news."

"Oh, I told him already. But I still need to go anyway. Would you two join me to the nest? I would appreciate some help clearing up the next skin. He is going to get his new skin today. He is already very grumpy, and has begun extracting himself from the old envelope. He is complaining a lot about the itching and the problem of cutting the belly open so he can crawl out."

"Okay. Typhoon and I will fly, you port to keep up with us."

"All right. Lead the way."

P’Tarik demonstrated his mastery of in-flux porting by keeping up smoothly with the two Dragons. An hour after leaving the Tessaract entrance, he negotiated the narrow chimney leading to the Dragons’ nest with ease.

«Damn it! I need to replace the granite rocks on the moulting bed. It has been twice already. Hold on, my friend.»

P’Tarik quickly disposed of the residual rocks, replacing them with new granite.

"When he is done, incorporate diamonds in the rock, P’Tarik. It will help in the next moult. The skin is getting thicker," said Typhoon.

"Oh, okay. That will help!"

The Dragonling had finished and clamoured for food. P’Tarik flew out, sat down on the side of the volcanic cone, materialised a dead Ceros, and then ported it gradually inside, dripping blood and still hot from an apparent fresh kill.

«There you are. I have another one waiting, but I will let it cool down while you eat that one.»

"Where did you find a Ceros? They are all in the Ark project!"

"I materialised it, Harp. Why hunt when you can create food out of thin air? And the Ceros has a thick hide, he is going to have to work the jaws to get his meal!"

"I like the Orc’s mental set, Harp! That Dragonling needs to work some for his food!"

«I like him too. It is not something I would admit readily, but that little Orc impresses me every day,» said the Nest Mother.

"Let us clean up the nest while he is busy eating his breakfast!" said P’Tarik as he took control of a big piece of hide and ported it out to the nearest volcano. In short order the biggest pieces were gone, and P’Tarik materialised three rakes.

"I like a well manicured sand floor. Let us start at the far end, where his two siblings are still asleep. I can tell their bonded will be back soon, and I see no reason to give them work for my big Brother’s moult."

"And you give us work instead?" asked Harp.

"Sure, what are friends for?"

The Nest Mother could not help herself from snickering.

«His quick sense of repartee is what endears him to me the most. I have never had so much fun in several centuries.»

By the time they had done about half of the cave, the Dragonling was eyeing them with interest.

«Still hungry, buddy?» asked P’Tarik.

«Yes! Yes! Yes! Does moulting itch?»

«I gather it does and that you are hungry. I will be right back.»

The Orc took off and was back with a deeply frozen Ceros.

«There you are. It is time you clean your teeth up, and I have been unable to make you chew on rocks so it is frozen meat that will have to do the job, you big slob.»

"I gather you have some issues with discipline?" asked Typhoon.

"Yes. He has Dragon breath, and it is not a figure of speech."

"You know he can rinse his mouth with lava to remove any residue?"

"Yes, but since he cannot fly, he does not have access to it, Typhoon. And I am not about to take steel brushes to clean his teeth while mister lazy arse enjoys my hard work. He is got to do some part of the work. If only he would breathe out fire, but he is no more ready for that than flying. I am grateful for that: working behind a firewall in this oven is not my idea of a vacation on a volcanic beach! I polish his skin every day, inspect every bit of skin for fungi or Bacteria, and he purrs, err, roars with contentment while I do it, but he has to learn to do some things for himself. Flying is going to be tiring, and if he is already lazy on hygiene, how will it be when it comes to flying? I will have to whip his wings for him? No way Sir!"

«I agree this one is a big lazy slob. The bonded has shown remarkable patience with him, but the Dragonling better shape up or I will be kicking him out of the nest,» said the Nest Mother, as she eyed disapprovingly at the Gold Dragonling finishing the last leg of the Ceros while ignoring everyone else around him. «He takes everything for granted, and shows no respect for the efforts of his bonded. Did you notice he did not even greet him on his return?»

«And he has not greeted his King either,» added P’Tarik, «He better shape up or else! My patience is growing thin.»

«Given the date he hatched and that he is got most of his moulting done, he should have learned basic etiquette. Do what must,» decided Typhoon.

«Let us start right away, before he falls asleep. It is time he at least notices your presence, my Lord. We can not put up with rebellious Adolescents, and he is nearing that stage at every wing beat.»

The other Dragonlings had woken up and were showing their respects to Typhoon, his guest, and their friends and bonded. Even P’Tarik got more greetings from them than he got from his own bonded. The contrast between their behaviour and the big Gold Dragonling was made even more apparent by his bully attitude toward the other nest mates. That pissed off Typhoon, Harp and P’Tarik to no end.

«Stop this right now!» ordered P’Tarik, sending a powerful jolt of electricity toward the Dragonling, which roared in pain and lashed out toward the Orc. P’Tarik was in no mood to put up with any more attitude from the Dragonling, and, after deviating the tail swipe, he fired a powerful blue-white flame from his extended right hand, hitting the Dragonling squarely in the chest. «You have shamed me one too many times! Today, you learn respect!»

«I am the bigger one! You serve me!»

«That is where you are wrong! We are born equal, and shall share in all aspects of our lives, my bonded! I am small, but as strong as you are, I am even stronger! Be warned, you shall respect everyone, from the big to the puny! Everyone is worthy of respect, and shall get it!»

«You have no right to impose anything to me! This is my home!»

«There, you are wrong again!» intervened the Nest Mother. «Your bonded is your surrogate Father, replacing the male that fertilised your egg. He has all rights inherent to that role. He has done a remarkable job of taking care of your physical needs, but, contrary to your nest Brothers, you have shown no respect toward him, not even the gratitude of a filled stomach. Now, he is putting his foot down and laying the law of the nest on you. You better abide by it!»

«Who dared put that Worm in charge?»

«I did!» said Typhoon, converting to his full Adult and very Royal Dragon form.

«And who are you to impose this piece of food as surrogate Father?»

«I am King Typhoon of the Royal Dragon House. This piece of food is a close friend of mine and you shall show him the respect due him for his hard work to reach such a coveted status.»

«You keep strange mates!»

That last comment was the drop that broke the bucket’s bottom. Typhoon walked quickly to the Dragonling and seized him by the neck with his mouth, before shaking him violently and throwing him right across the nest to smash on the far wall.

«You will respect me or you will meet your maker!»

The Dragonling was unharmed, but severely shaken. He charged Typhoon, but before he could even make three steps, P’Tarik threw him right back at the wall with a simple flick of the fingers.

«I suggest you think twice before fighting your King, little fool. This would be considered an attempt at regicide, and Atlantean laws are very clear: it is a death sentence. Get over your attitude or face the consequences,» said P’Tarik. «I love you and my heart would be devastated if it had to come to this, but I have no say in the application of the law of Atlantis, and even if I had a say, I would not stand against the judgement of King Typhoon, or even less against the judgement of Pharaoh Horus."

By then P’Tarik was glowing with Magic, bringing into the nest the power of a rising Sun. Even the Dragonling was scared, something he had never known before.

«Fear is the first step toward sagacity, Dragonling. Never forget you can meet more powerful than you, even after you have bonded with P’Tarik and done the Sharing."

«And who are you?»

«Ah! You finally acknowledge a member of the Royal Family of your Liege Lord. You took your time. I am Harp, the Prince of Magic, and probably the only one capable of breaking the Magic bond already uniting you to P’Tarik, my esteemed Orc friend.»

«I am lost! I thought these were stories to scare little Dragonlings into submission!»

«Have you not been listening to anything I have told you?»

«But they are stories for Children! I found them interesting and fun, but nothing more.»

«Be it as it may, these stories are all true. They are part of your basic education. From now on, you will consider the stories told to you by P’Tarik as based on facts!» thundered Typhoon.

Turning to face the Nest Mother, Typhoon said, in a very ferocious voice, «If this one shows any further disrespect toward you, his bonded, his nest mates or any other members of the extended family of our Liege Lord, he dies! We shall not endanger our bonds to Atlantis to satisfy the temper of this one! He is already a disgrace, and has a long flight to undertake in order to get back in my favours! I will not let him dishonour P’Tarik, an Orc that has earned my respect by his courage and intelligence, in any way! Drive that through his stout skin before I drive my teeth in his neck! The only oath-breakers were Black Dragons, and it will not be under my reign that a Gold Dragon will begin to break the Oath that bonds the Dragons to Atlantis and survive!»

«It shall be done, Lord Typhoon of the Dragons,» replied the Nest Mother.

«Come, P’Tarik! Let us go fly. I need to calm down before I lose it completely. It seems my bonded Brother Ian’s temper is crossing through the bond. Prince Harp, would you join us?»

«Certainly.»

Harp changed to a Gold Dragon slightly smaller than Typhoon and they followed P’Tarik out of the chimney to the still bright morning. A thunderstorm was brewing in the distance, and a couple dozen Dragons were training with their bonded in the art of hunting while a couple were enjoying a lava bath. Harp and Typhoon kept doing vertical figure eights, playing Chicken while P’Tarik watched a small group of Dragons learning basic flight techniques. Further off, in a lava pool, a group of young Dragonlings were playing fire-ball, throwing molten lava at each other, organised in two teams that mimicked water-polo.

***

Down in the nest, the Dragon female was looking at the Gold Dragonling with sorrow.

«I will tell you this, young one. You have made a powerful enemy today. Our King is bonded to the Heir of Atlantis, and has therefore access to more Magic than all Dragon kind combined. If you value your life, act with the utmost care. Think twice before talking, and three times before acting. Size is not everything, as P’Tarik has shown when he slammed you in the wall without even moving a muscle. He is a powerful Mage, a protégé of the Imperial Family, and you have acted with utmost disregard for him, treating him as a slave while he has shown you respect and love. Your life is hanging by a scale, and you better adjust your attitude, not only outwardly but also inwardly. When your bond is consecrated and you get your Name, the bond is binding by Magic, little impertinent, and it will kill you instantly if your heart and conscience is not fully engaged in the commitment. The King made the threat, but it is Magic that will carry it out. You have a month to fix things in your mind. At the next moult, you will be able to fly and Harold himself will crystallise the bond by Imperial Magic. You may not care much about what I think, but seeing you die in this nest would be most disturbing to your siblings and me. Dragonling, you are of Royal lineage, and P’Tarik, even if he acts with kindness and modesty, has shown more of this than you have! I have no idea what lineage P’Tarik has, but he has won the heart of the Emperor himself and of your King, while you have managed to cross all three in a single day! You should have been honoured to be P’Tarik’s bonded, but you treated him and his friends with contempt.»

The Nest Mother eyed the big Dragonling, trying to figure out what was going on in that stubborn mind.

«Just so you know, it is not by weakness that you are still alive, in case you thought so. The King gave you a chance to do amends, but do not mistake this for lack of resolve on his part, the part of the Atlantean Prince Harp, or P’Tarik. I may not be good at reading Orc body language, but I have learned how to read Dragon and Atlantean of the Line body language very well. They have no intention of backing off if they need to dispose of you. Just so you know, that little Prince is the one that killed the last two Black Dragons and removed that shameful blemish from our species, and he was several years younger!»

«My name is Apophis! Why is everyone refusing to use it?»

«Apophis will be your name only when the bond has been consecrated. Until then, you have no name! It has its importance too. The King can kill you and it will not mar his line as long as you have no name. Do not believe he will not kill you after you get your name, he will, but the consequences will be more enduring. I pity the fate of the one that shames our King!»

«You said I was of Royal blood? Is this because of my colour?»

«No, it is because you are one of the many descendants of our King. He has many, some Gold, like you, some Green, and some Red. He has bonded the Dragons by his actions far better than any oath. He took care to give you an exceptionally good bonded, and there you go throwing the Orc away like rotten meat! You are a shame!»

«If he dies, I inherit the Throne! Yes!»

«Wipe that idea out of your mind right at this instant! The Heir to the Dragon Throne is not you, and it has nothing to do with order of birth! It has to do with the Emperor recognising one Dragon as King, and from your attitude, you removed yourself from these considerations!»

«Why are strangers telling us what to do?»

«Because we took a vow of fealty in exchange for our survival, you idiot! Had we not been bonded, we would be dead because Gaia is dead! We live in their home, in case you did not listen to P’Tarik, not the other way around!»

The Dragonling grumbled but a roar from the Nest Mother accompanied by a white-hot flame brought the point across to the Dragonling. His days were numbered if he did not adjust his attitude inside out.

***

P’Tarik returned to the Dragons’ nest to help the others with their respective bonded. His Dragonling eyed him with some jealousy, as the others greeted him with kindness and respect. The Orc Mage ignored the Dragonling superbly.

«I am hungry!»

«So?» replied P’Tarik.

«But I am hungry!»

«Again, so?»

«Feed me!»

«No.»

«But it is your job to feed me!»

«No, it is not my job, as you say. My job is to raise you properly, and you will learn to ask politely or you will starve!»

«I will eat you then!»

«You can always try, but I can promise you a heartburn that will make hunger pangs look mild!»

«You do not know what hunger pangs are! You are always well fed!»

«I spent 12 years being hungry, you ungrateful brat! Twelve years! If there is one thing I know about, it is hunger pangs! And you dare complain about hunger and threaten me to boot? Has it ever occurred to you that if you did manage to eat me, it would be your last meal? You do not have enough reserve for your next moult, and you are unable to fly much less hunt for your sustenance!»

The Dragonling tried to strike down P’Tarik, but, once again, he ended up slammed hard against the back wall of the nest.

«I am off to train, Dragonling. No one, and I really mean no one, is to feed that jerk until tomorrow morning! And if I hear you stole the food of the other Dragonlings or tried to harm any of their bonded, you will not see the Sun set!»

«But that is three meals!»

«Live on your reserves. You will learn to talk to me politely, say please and thank you or you will find I can be a damn bad arse too!»

«I will complain to Dad, he is the King and he will get you punished!»

«I doubt it, and if he does, he will be told to raise you himself! Nest Mother, I will be in constant contact with you. This one will learn his place, or he will lose it altogether!»

«I know, P’Tarik. I doubt Typhoon will appreciate this attempt at blackmail from the Dragonling.»

«I am sure he does not. I heard him laugh at the repartee to my bonded.»

P’Tarik popped out of the nest rather than fly as he usually did, much to the surprise of the Nest Mother and the Dragonlings present.

«See what I mean by making dangerous enemies, Dragonling? He has more power than all of us combined, and he does not even need the King to exercise it. He has shown restraint in his use of Power worthy of a Great Mage, and you saw this as a weakness. Fool! Fool! Fool!»

***

P’Tarik began the return flight to the Royal suite with Harp and Typhoon, feeling sad. Would he lose his bonded? He loved the Gold Dragonling, and saw him as the love of his life and a Child that needed to be brought back in the right path, but he has no idea on how to proceed with that endeavour. His mood did not escape his flight comrade, and Typhoon’s boiling temper told other Dragons now was not the time to bother their King. No one knew what the issue was, but they all knew it was not the time for frivolities.

«Can we go visit your Dad, Typhoon? I need to think, and I have always found the room where he is being healed a calming place.»

«Certainly, P’Tarik! I did not know you visited my Dad?»

«I have no family, and I sort of adopted your Dad. I do not know how he feels about it, but I have always felt a keen sense of belonging while I am there.»

«Dad will be okay about it when he wakes up. We still have a long way to go, but you will still be a young Mage when he gets out of stasis, so you will have a lot of time to learn to know him in person.»

«It is true this room is peaceful. The stasis chamber is so silent, yet we see the nanites and the fluids work on your Dad. The changes are so slow, but if you run an animated movie of the pictures taken daily, you can see the changes,» replied Harp. «How did you discover this room, P’Tarik?»

«I was walking along the valley and I noticed that Dragons entered that crack in the cliff face. Initially, I thought it was a nest, but then I realised it was not the case for many reasons. First, your nests are all entered by chimneys, never by cracks; second, the only ones entering the nests are the bonded and the Dragonlings, but this one was visited by all Dragons capable of flight. One day, after doing some exercise in Magic flying, I decided to go visit that crack, and I found this place. There was no one present, and I saw the stasis chamber. A peek inside revealed a Gold Dragon, and some questions let me learn who it was. I have come here every week ever since.»

«No one ever told me?»

«I do not know why. I go there because it is quiet and I like it there to think, to ask counsel from the old Dragon, and sometimes, I hear some slow, painstaking reply. Usually, when I come in, there are Dragons around, and when I leave, there are none. It is like everyone leaves while I am inside. I need to talk to your Dad, Typhoon, I need counsel on what to do with the situation.»

«We are almost there, P’Tarik. We will not bother you while you talk to Dad. I wish I had your patience, but for now I will have to take your word for it. Tell him I miss him terribly.»

«He knows already.»

P’Tarik sat down on the floor in the lotus position and relaxed. After 15 minutes, he began to levitate and glow gently, rising until he was overlooking the Dragon’s stasis chamber. Harp and Typhoon looked at the unfolding events with a smile, while the other Dragons watched from a distance.

"No wonder he is left alone by other Dragons, Typhoon. That kind of Magic is the sign of Power. I do hope he accepts to be part of the Royal family before the final bonding within a month."

"Pray his Dragonling amends, because I have vowed to protect Atlantis, and if it means killing the Dragonling, then so be it. I know it will hurt P’Tarik, but I have an Oath to fulfil."

"I feel reticence in fulfilling this vow?"

"Yes. After all, he is one of my Sons."

"I did not know that, Typhoon. I feel sorry for your bind."

"Feel sorry for that idiot, not for me."

"You do know that if he is not honest with his vow, Mitsuko will kill him instantly?"

"Yes. Nonetheless, I feel sad for my family name. He has shamed Dragon kind by his actions toward P’Tarik."

P’Tarik stayed in levitation for an hour before gently coming back down. The glow slowly faded and he stood up on shaky legs. He was surprised to see Harp, Typhoon, Paschal, Sitar and Harold sitting down on the floor in an arc behind him.

"Welcome back amongst us, P’Tarik," said Harold.

"My Lord? I did not expect to meet you today!"

"Expect the unexpected, P’Tarik. How are you feeling?"

"Relaxed, as is usual after a visit to the Dragon."

"Have you learned anything of this visit?"

"I was told my doubts about myself were unfounded, and that I had to seize the opportunity when it came. I do not really understand."

"We do, P’Tarik, we do. Sitar, do you have Mitsuko with you?"

Sitar took the Sword of the Light out of a dimensional fold and brought it to rest on his knees.

"Do you wish to become Atlantean, P’Tarik?"

"Yes! Oh yes!"

Sitar stood and placed the sword on P’Tarik’s right shoulder.

"Swear the Oath of Fealty to Atlantis with me, P’Tarik, and become one of us, as representative of the Orcs," continued Harold.

The Oath was sworn and accepted by the Sword as true of heart, as it glowed bright green.

"You are now Atlantean. We, Harold, Pharaoh Horus, summon you to be King of Orcs and reign in our name over the Orcs. Do you accept this duty in your name, for the benefit of the Orcs, for you and your descendants?"

Remembering the counsel given to him by the Dragon, P’Tarik looked at Harold in the eyes and said, "I accept."

"So be sworn as King of the Orcs on this day, at this moment, by our will. Let your reign be just, peaceful, profitable, and long, King P’Tarik!"

Harold created a gold Crown out of thin air, a Sword of Swearing, and a Mace of Authority made of ebony, a now extinct hardwood. He also created a Royal Seal, a flag, and finally, a beautiful mithril armour that fitted the young Orc perfectly.

"You are hereby convened to the next meeting of the Privy Council of Atlantis, to be held in a week. I suggest you assemble your own Privy Council to help you in handling internal Orc Affairs."

P’Tarik was shocked to the point he could not even speak, so he just nodded.

"P’Tarik, you have six months to build your base amongst the young Orcs before we begin releasing the Adults. The more solidly you will be implemented, the wider your base, the less trouble there will be. You have Magic. Use it to determine whom you can trust. Mitsuko and Sitar are at your disposal during that time and any other time you need to assess the truth about something or someone’s intentions. Do not hesitate to dispose of traitors, and there are many, believe me. Enron has had his share, and so did I."

"Thank you for your counsel, my Lord."

"Do not thank me too fast, you might have to behead a childhood friend one day."

"P’Tool? He has been running after a shortened lifespan for quite a while."

"P’Tool is already earmarked for a rather nasty execution if he tries anything. It is the others that are the most dangerous. You do need to promulgate laws."

"Can we not just follow yours?"

"Certainly, be my guest. The lesser variety in laws, the easier it is to live together."

"Let us go have lunch. It is nearing sext. You will have a hungry Dragonling tomorrow morning, P’Tarik."

"I know. I hope he gets the message."

"We will see at the official bonding."

***

Two weeks later, Harp was woken up in the middle of the night by a call from Anbraxias, currently commanding the Bridge.

"What is up, Anbraxias?"

"The sensors report a pair of atoms of Ianium were captured two minutes ago!"

"Finally! I am going to the nuclear laboratory. Wake up Ian and Paschal as well and send them to the nuclear laboratory! Continue search pattern!"

"At your command!"

The three Princes watched the capture process unfold in the magical field with a lot of interest. The resonant string was violently pulling the two atoms toward each other.

"How long is that string?" asked Paschal.

"Its length is 20 light-years as calculated from its current base frequency. They are moving toward each other at warp 9.9999 and should collide in 52.8 minutes."

"That makes for a lot of energy!"

"I told you, a pair is equal in energy to a loaded Crystal," said Ian. "With one pair, we will be able to jump Universes without even tapping into the big Crystal. If we get two, well, it is even more interesting..."

"My Lords, Anbraxias here! We captured another pair! No! Two!"

"Accessing frequency measurements The additional pairs are respectively 28 light-years apart and the other pair is 42 light-years apart. Anbraxias, can you confirm another captured pair? It just was added to the list! And another one! This is weird! I thought they would be rarer! What are the current external conditions?"

"We are currently within the sphere of a supernova explosion in expansion, Harp. We should exit it in two seconds. Another two pairs popped up! This brings the total number of atoms to 12! We are exiting the supernova remains! Should I continue the search pattern? We are 10 days to completion."

"Yes, continue. We might find some bonded pairs."

"As you wish, Prince Ian."

The three Princes studied the newly discovered noble gas. It became apparent that Ian’s model was on the dot.

"That is interesting. We now not only have enough reserves to jump Universes, but we could do it without any of the jumps taxing our energy reserve," said Harp as he viewed the energy dispersion diagram.

"Let us move all six pairs to a more secure field. These atoms are worth more than the entire ship. Ian, I need a level-10 force field, in the form of a quadruple helix loop. Place it here, near the centre of the hexagon created by the Crystals. It must measure 15 feet in circumference and offer six ports for energy. Since we now know where to find these atoms, we will add more as we search the galaxy for life. If this is an average, there may be several million in the Universe lurking around. However finding them will be a difficult task."

"We will pick some while we travel. I wonder if the number of atoms would increase as we get closer to a supernova origin?"

"Maybe, Harp, but the issue is that they must be apart somehow for the capture to occur. This supernova is a few thousand years old."

"Are you aware you are telling us these atoms travelled at warp speed before they bonded?"

"Yes, and why are you so surprised? They travel, bind to a string at one end and the other binds to the other end and bang they start converging."

"That means these atoms may not come from the same supernova! It might take some time for an atom to find a string, and for two to find the same string may take thousands of years!"

"I had not thought of that. Well, anyway, it does not matter. Apparently, supernova remains are where to look for them."

"Red alert! Red alert! Incoming life form!" rang across the spaceship as the three Princes were working on the magical capacities of Ianium atoms. "Primary Crew on Bridge!"

"Porting to Bridge!" replied Harp, as the other Princes looked at each other and they too prepared to leave the nuclear Physics laboratory.

"I finished the containment field, Paschal. The energy connectors are available for you as soon as you require them."

"Okay, Ian. Let us follow Harp."