The Prophesy: Book 4 - Armageddon

 

"So we have 36 days to complete our task here, Gentlemen," said Samson. "Will we finish on time?"

"It will be tight. I have 500,000 technical civilisation recovery systems available, and about 300,000,000 dedicated to recovering life forms. The production chain for each apparatus has been running non-stop since I began the Ark Through Time project. If I take Earth as guide, that planet has 7,000,000,000 or so years of life to get scanned for genetic sampling and ecosystem research; of these 7,000,000,000 or so years, maybe 3,000,000,000 years produced technical artefacts. I will look into the situation to determine if we can consider recovering a sample slice of their living civilisation. It will depend on a lot of factors," said Paschal

"What are these factors?" asked Enron.

"Evidently, the presence of a magical core; but it does not suffice. There must be a sense of ethics, and a potential for integration within Atlantean culture. Even the Orcs have this potential, and, with some work, we can probably incorporate the Dolphins, the Australopithecus, the Pterodactyls, and some Insects and Invertebrates. So I will evidently look at the potential of life form from the air, the earth and the sea."

"Will you search for the dominant species?"

"That and more; I do not think that a dominant species is better suited for integration in our culture, Sitar. In fact, it may be the opposite. Just look at the issues we have had on Earth. Technically advanced does not equate with fit to live with other civilisations and life forms. How many cases of abuse have we found of so-called lower life forms in our project so far? I am not talking about a predator feeding here, but true abuse, doing pain, both physical and mental, needlessly?"

"I agree with Paschal’s analysis of the situation. And we do have an advantage. We will know where evolution is going once we start collecting data. It will help us determine when to do a pickup and whom to pick up, if we so decide," said Ian, getting a nod of approval from Paschal, Enron, and Harold.

"I just wonder how these pickups will be perceived?" Williams wondered.

"Flying saucer abductions!" said Alexander, laughing hard at the image.

"No more jokes, little Brother, the cup is full!" said Ian.

Alexander simply materialised an unbreakable saucer and threw it at Ian, which caught it with a finger and sent it right back at the impertinent brat, thus reinventing the Frisbee.

The exchange continued while they waited on Paschal’s report. Enron’s insertion into orbit was flawless, and Thorsten began scans for resources. After an hour, he came back with his preliminary report.

"The majority of asteroids are carbon-based, and those that have metals seem to be hallow. It just does not fit naturally occurring models. Furthermore, there is a severe lack of water."

"What is your take on these results?"

"A civilisation mined them, leaving only hollowed out shells; it even recovered the water. I am off to pay a visit to Paschal. I need to get an exploratory vessel on that big one, it emits more heat than it receives. I believe there might still be an active energy source."

"Do you expect life?"

"No. I do not detect oxygen."

"Proceed and keep us up to date," decided Ian.

***

Paschal was surprised to see Thorsten walk in.

"Already done?" he asked.

"Yes. Did you find the civilisation that mined the asteroids?"

"What? And I was sure it would come as a surprise! But yes, I found them. They died out some time back, when they ran out of readily mine-able resources. There are failed attempts at interstellar travel due to insufficient resources. I have begun storing genetic data. Their bases are similar to ours, but they do not have the same functionalities. The stop and start codons are not the same. For safety reasons, I have decided to keep only the genetic mappings. The dominant species were what we would call Birds, and very war-like. I do not think we want to get involved with them. Their attitude was what took them out of the race. If you think Orcs were bad, you should see what sample of behaviour the sensors report."

"Have you found anything worth recovering?"

"Their architecture is strange. Every house looks like a bowl of soup. I have also managed to understand their writing, which seemed to be based on chirps. Their numerical system was also way off the track, based on 3 with a blank space for zero."

"Chirps?"

"Well, look at this. It was recovered from one of their numerous battles and as best as I can say, it means: Run four groups of five toward a settlement, a population, the Gods only know. It is very terse military code. Everything is like that. Do not look for poetry or literature. There is none whatsoever. All I can say is this piece of cotton triggered an assault on a group of Birds by 20 others later that day."

Figure 9: ʽBird’ Writing or Chirping

"That seems to be some sort of paper?"

"No, cotton or finely weaved bark. I am trying to track the manufacturing process by following the artefact back in time. The ink is burned out wood, charcoal if you wish, dissolved in a volatile oil. The writing instrument is a type of quill, which I also recovered. That example is weathered. I cleansed it up, but you can see the ink has begun to run on the right edge."

"No printing presses?"

"Not in that late stage of their civilisation. They were so tight on resources they probably used as little energy as possible, and printing presses, in fact metallurgy, is a high-energy endeavour."

"When you say late, how late?"

"About 1,000,000 years before they disappeared completely because their star entered into its final phase before expanding and burning the planet up. The sea evaporated, creating a steam bath well before the star blew up. They were dead by then, and all life forms were gone. I tried to see if they might have found refuge below the surface, but apparently, the lack of metallurgy also prevented the establishment of underground shelters. It would only have delayed the inevitable. It was dying of thirst or dying cooked in a pressure cooker."

"And thirst won the race."

"Yes. Once the star began expanding, the atmosphere evaporated within a short time, maybe a week or so. By the time the star surface reached the planet, it was already gaseous and dissipated into the interstellar void, probably eaten up by the red dwarf."

"Let us go to the Royal meeting Ian called. I think he needs to hear this."

"I might as well. Everything is being recovered automatically and stored in either one of the architecture museums, or, for life, as a genetic pattern with pictures of the animal or plant, with a full description of the ecosystem. It is interesting to look at this with dispassionate eyes."

"And very sobering as well."

The two ported directly to Ian’s Ready Room, and Paschal explained what he had discovered so far.

"If I understand what you are saying, we are witnessing the terminal point of a society that squandered its resources to the point of total collapse and the inability to escape the star to space?" asked Harold.

"Yes. They were so focussed on war and fighting they completely refused to unite and pull together to create a means of escape."

"What else did you discover about that planet?"

"So far, plants were mostly what we would call ferns. I have yet to find a flowering plant. There were a lot of lichens, mostly in the cracks around the seashore. They had some rather impressive Cephalopods, some of which measured over 500 feet in length. The oceans covered 80% of the planet, mostly relatively shallow and warm-watered. The Birds, if you wish to call them that, were flightless, but still had feathers. They had immense problems fighting each other due to the fact that they mostly sailed, and the Cephalopods regularly sank their wooden ships to feed on the Crew. Mammals were very numerous, just about the size of the Mouse or Rat. The Mammals seemed to have been a pest, regularly breaking the eggs to feed on the Bird embryo within. But, from what I observed, the Birds also fed on the Rodents."

"Fair is fair."

"Yes, Ian. I recommend we do not take living samples. We can recreate anything from scrap given we have the genetic maps. It might be dangerous, at least for the Ark project, to do so."

"Why?"

"The planet is rife with microbial life, and who knows what one of these little pests might do if it escaped into our ecosystem."

"What will you do with your sensor array?"

"It is always in inter-dimensional space, Dad. It never comes in contact with the ecosystem. That is why it can observe without disturbing. They will never know we were there. And I plan to take additional precautions. The sensors can survive a short bath in the star surface, so they will pass 10 minutes there, effectively getting disinfected, should anything have managed to contaminate the sensors. As you know, we are firm believers in the adage that states there is never enough precautionary measures."

"What does the mapping reveal on the evolution of this planet?"

"There were repeated massive extinctions, approximately once every 250,000,000 years. For the great majority of the biosphere’s existence, it carried life in relatively simple forms, such as unicellular or multi-cellular Bacteria. Later stages saw the emergence of Cephalopods, or what would be classified as such on the Earth. The colonisation of the limited land mass was quite late, and the discovery of fire, the first sign of civilisation, was even later. The evolution of industry occurred about 2,500,000,000 years before life vanished. By then, the dominant species was Bird-like, already having lost flight a long time before, and having spent a lot of work in developing efficient ways of killing each other. They too lost to massive extinctions, at least four of them. But they never bothered to ask themselves where they came from. Philosophy was non-existent, and existentialist questions seem to have been totally absent of their mind. Their goal was control of resources for food, and it stayed like that for the duration. It is surprising that at least one reached interplanetary travel stage, but they were so focussed on war and defence they refused to sacrifice the necessary weapons or resources to deviate away a major meteorite that wiped them out. They never came back out of the woods, err, ferns. The resurgent civilisation that came out of that last event was short on resources, minds, and time. They never had a chance, because they never settled their differences. From what I understand, a grudge could last forever. There was no such thing as a peaceful settlement. You killed the offending party to the last egg, and that was the rule."

"You mention several massive extinctions?" asked Annabelle.

"Yes, if we consider the four that marred the civilised interval, the first was produced by a change in the ecosystem due to a series of massive volcanic eruptions. The second was due to a deliberate act of war: a group disseminated a Bacterium that killed just about anything, including, ironically, themselves. The third was a change in solar energy flux that produced an ice age. Apparently, the star crossed a dense carbon cloud and that reduced the abundance of light by 25% during the interval. The last one I already told you about."

"Civilisations seem fragile," commented Colibri.

"Yes, they are," replied Enron. "Probably even more than what Paschal makes it look. I am sure the Bird civilisation had many ups and downs."

"Enron is correct. I just gave you an outline of what I have found so far. The full analysis will take months if not years. I have been able to detect the technological evolution of different cultures, and it is apparent that what drove them was not the well-being of the people but the necessity to have a fighting advantage. Any advantage could lead to the growth of an empire and the fall of dozens of others."

"Bird brains!" said Alexander.

"No, little Brother. The Humans were no different. Even with Atlantean genetic seeding, they behaved the same way, and I would not be surprised if we learned, in our peregrination across the Universe, that this attitude is widespread. If we ever recover the history of Atlantis One, I expect it to be as ugly as this one."

"Enron is correct, Alexander. Civilisations are like living organisms. They compete for survival and only the most adapted to the current environmental conditions prosper and grow. Naturally, a sudden environmental change leads to collapse. It may be a prolonged dry spell, like it was for the Orcs; it might be a sudden cooling, or heating up, or it might be the discovery of a new technology. Human civilisations died out with each progress in metallurgy, from stone to copper to bronze, to iron, and finally steel. Also, the discovery of explosives, of guns, and then the ultimate stupidity, the nuclear weapon, led to the destruction of civilisations on a vast scale."

"You scare me, Paschal. Will our culture die out too?"

"If you mean this exact civilisation, then yes. Being static leads to extinction. The survival of Atlanteans passes through the search for constant improvements, of a dynamic effort to discover new things, and that, in turn, means our civilisation, as we know it now, is doomed to disappear. Just consider this: seven years ago, we lived in a medieval society, now we are space-farers and the medieval society, even if it still structures our political system, is in all intents and purposes dead."

"And I would never have thought I would be teaching Magic to an Orc!" Harp said.

"Is there not anything stable?"

"Yes. Death. And even then, it is a temporary state since we are reborn."

"Will my Uncle be reborn?"

"Yes, Jefferson. But under what form remains to be seen. Who knows? Maybe even nature has immanent justice and he will be reborn in a bonsai, growth hampered and constantly clipped, deprived of its essential resources to reach full potential. I can see him as a 5,000 year old oak measuring less than 16 inches, twisted in pain and suffering!"

"Talking about civilisations, Boys, do you expect we will find many?"

"Actually, it all depends on what you expect, Dad."

"What do you mean, Enron?"

"See, consider the Ancients. They became space faring just barely years before blowing themselves up. If it is a recurrent pattern, the number of stellar species must be limited. Atlantis One never found many, and just look at the situation Goblins were, and, for that matter, we were!"

"The Ancients tried to find civilisations by listening on their transmissions. Consider the Birds here. They entered the radio transmission age barely 250 years before collapsing again due to an internal war, and never recovered from it. The total time interval of transmission is therefore 250 years for a civilisation lasting several billion years. To complicate things further, they were in the radio domain some 3,000,000,000 years before the Humans, and their transmissions had long passed Earth when the Ancients tried their ill-fated SETI¹³¹³ ("SETI: Search for Extra-Terrestrial Intelligence.") project. And I am talking about two civilisations barely 270 light-years apart, a hair width in space. Each exchange would take twice that time, far longer than the radio window width of either civilisation. And we assume the Birds would have been interested in listening and answering, which is unlikely."

"Paschal, your analysis is depressing."

"Yes, well, reality is depressing. No civilisation can evolve without individuals, and individuals are the result of selfishness not of generosity. Civilisations reflect the common psyche of its individual elements. We survived because we manage to overcome part of this and dispose of those that could not. The Birds did not, and died out. Maybe it is the very essence of life that plays against the survival of civilisations. We are well aware of the fact that we will be called upon to fight as we explore the Universe. This is why we continue the military training, and that I continue developing ever more advanced weapons. Thebes is an Ark for Life, but also a battleship."

"Did Atlantis One visit this place?" Harold asked.

"Apparently not. But this should not come as a surprise. Space is vast, and Atlantis One had limited resources. It explored, but it also colonised, and colonisation of a star system consumes a lot of resources. I suspect the exploration was more or less done in a spherical fashion around Atlantis One, with colonisation occurring within the sphere once conditions were deemed acceptable," Samson replied.

"How long before the first Scavenger wave?" Ian wanted to know.

"The sensors we left behind allow me to confirm they are 30 days off."

"Okay. Paschal, I want to be gone before they reach the Oort cloud, preferably a day ahead of them. Make sure you have all your data by then."

"It will be done."

"Enron, plot a course for the Pillars of Creation. We will dive in them. Their distance is such that once we leave the immediate vicinity of this system, plan on using the quantum jump drive."

"All right, Ian."

"Harp, I am planning to cut short the Scavengers tracking us by removing the trail. It will be dangerous Magic, so be warned."

***

The month passed quickly. Paschal spent time designing other forms of Spiders, and then began adding a wider variety of sensors and defensive and offensive weapons, while Harp kept training P’Tarik in Magic. The young Orc was proving a good Mage, but he still lacked something. Colibri put the finger on it one day as he watched the training.

"P’Tarik, you are strong, but you lack flexibility. You take too long to decide on a move and that could cost you your life. My Lord, I think he needs training from the God of War."

"You may be right, Colibri. I will have you evaluated by Sitar tomorrow. If you are to succeed in the Ordeal, you must be a well-rounded Warrior-Mage. Only those that are exceptional on all fronts succeed. That means top-notch Mage with survival skills that put to shame the test you saw, a sense of opportunity, and advanced if instantaneous capacity at doing the right thing at the right time. Naturally, flair to sense the flow of time and foresee eventualities helps immensely. I think that training under Sitar would help you."

"Why tomorrow?"

"Because I need to be on the Bridge when we leave this system. I do not know what Ian has in mind, but since he forewarned me the Magic he plans is dangerous I need to be there to assist if necessary. We are two days off departure."

"Can I be on the Bridge?"

"I do not see why not. Colibri, be there as well. Enron will be teaching you new tricks I think. It concerns the use of slipstream engines within the confines of a star system. From what I understand, it is dangerous."

***

The next day was extremely busy. Paschal spent the day recalling every single sensor, passing them through the star surface to disinfect them and then storing them in a specific order.

"Why not just dump them in a storeroom?" asked Alexander as he helped his big Brother with them.

"Each one has a specific task, tool set and log. We dumped the essentials data into Pyramid One, but it does not include all of the data. I need to do a thorough memory dump, including failure reports, transitional analysis reports that log the flow back in time, and the fine details of the sensors and their interaction. Sometimes, two or more sensors analyse the same event from different perspectives and it becomes necessary to cross-reference each measurement very precisely. They all have tic marks and even crosstalk, but, as I told you a month ago, analysing everything may take years. Knowing where a sensor is can save me a lot of time if I need to access its contents in more detail."

"Will you not need them once we emerge in another star system?"

"Yes, but by then I hope I will have completed the full recovery."

"Will the Pyramid’s memory ever get full?"

"Not in my lifetime. It is holographic. And, let me tell you a little secret, Alexander. Thebes is also capable of storing data. Before we fill that up, we will have skipped universes, maybe completed our mission."

"Who knows about that?"

"Ian and the protectors, and now you."

"Will it ever fill up completely?"

"Only if we run out of sources for orichalque. As we add layers to the outer skin, we convert inner layers into memory layers on the inside. The actual skin of Thebes stays the same thickness, but moves outward, much like a shell. At some point what is now the outer layer will be used for memory storage, and what is now exposed to the void of space will find itself buried deep within the newly-grown skin."

"Wow!"

"Since everything is orichalque here, even the Atlantean Crystals, we are not likely to need to resort to the skin to store data any time soon. You walk within the memory of Thebes."

"This is nuts!"

"Are you calling me nuts, little Brother?"

"As if there was ever any doubt? But you mentioned there was ablation shielding layers once?"

"Yes, several hundred layers. The outer skin of Thebes is composed of those ablation layers. Since orichalque in that configuration is next to indestructible, the chance that the memory layer will ever get affected is next to nil. And then to lose a single bit of information, all redundant copies must be either altered or destroyed. Try explaining how this could happen over the entire surface of Thebes?"

While Paschal and Alexander spent the day in the storage rooms putting away sensors and recovering maintenance Spiders, Harp brought P’Tarik to Sitar.

"Sitar, test P’Tarik with weapons please. I want him trained in those fields."

"Do you want him trained in riding Dragons and Horses as well?"

"Yes."

"Okay. We will need to get Silver Moon and Yamato on the Horse and Typhoon on the Dragon rides."

"Typhoon is happy with his effort at training his bonded Dragonling. Another six months and he should have himself a ride and probably shape-shifting capabilities."

"That is good. I will get the Lance Master to assign him a Centaur for training with the weapons they are most proficient in; Enron should select a good Archer; and I am sure Thorsten will love training him with the axe and the war hammer. Viola is free to train him in Horse riding; Yamato will give him tactics, and I will see to it he can hit a flower head at full run with a scimitar, a Cavalry pilum and a sword. Do you know how to swim, P’Tarik?"

"Yes, but I am not comfortable in water."

"That is about to change. How far are you in training your Dragonling?"

"Not very far, he is only at his second or third skin. He eats like an Ogre, but he does not fly yet. The wings are too short."

"Okay."

"Anyway, come back here in two days, and we will have set a training regimen for you that will take into consideration the support of a Dragonling."

"Okay. I have to go, my Lord. My Dragonling is about to wake up. I hear him dream of food."

"Okay."

P’Tarik ported on his own to the Dragons’ nest leaving Harp and his Brother to discuss the next few days’ events.

"I will be on the Bridge with P’Tarik and Colibri. Will you be there Sitar?"

"Certainly. After all, we might have surprises as we leave. I want to ask you something."

"Shoot?"

"I noticed P’Tarik has bowed legs, typical of Orcs. It might make for difficult running. Should we adjust our expectancies for that?"

"No. I never noticed, but it is true he has bowed legs and it shortens his stature somewhat. I suspect if it were not for this he would be about our height. I will ask Paschal if something can be done about the issue. Magic could fix the issue on short term, and I will suggest a spell to P’Tarik if it bothers him too much."

"It will have some influence on the design of his uniform for his incorporation in the Army. For now, he is like us, nude, but when it comes to really becoming part of the Atlantean Army, the uniform has its importance, if only to indicate rank and Centurie. Even the Canines and Equines recognise the fact and accept the uniform in service, even if they strip the moment their turn of duty is over."

"What Centurie would you think him best suited?"

"You are casting the fish line before reaching the water. Let us see how basic training goes and we will set that once I can better understand his strengths and weaknesses. I will be evaluating him personally. Hey, do not look at me like that. I am not sure I am doing him a favour. You know me: everything has to be perfect!"

"Oh yes, I know. But I also know you will give him the proper encouragements in failure, and praise in success. It is unfortunately not the case of everyone."

"I noticed. Believe me, I noticed! And they usually do not last long as Trainers. I send them back down the pyramid pretty fast. Quite a few Sergeants found they were back in the Corporal stripes due to their attitude. We want the best out of everyone, and that is more surely obtained with fairness and encouragements rather than debasement and abuse. I did have a case where I did not have to demote the Sergeant recently."

"Oh?"

"The Trainee went nuts and cut the Sergeant’s head off so fast the Sergeant never managed to escape his fate. After analysis, I realised the guy only got what he deserved. He was promoted on wrong assumptions of competence, while he had been pitted against poor opponents his entire military career. I took over the training of the head-hunter, and he seems to be adjusting well now. He has made progress in leaps and jumps. And no, I did not punish the Trainee. He had been pushed too far and defended himself in a situation where he had little control and few options. Believe me, it is not fun holding a grown Man crying his heart out and shaking like a leaf. The guy was at least my own size and then some."

"I never knew being a Sergeant in an Army at peace could be so dangerous!"

"We are just waiting for the next call to duty by either Dad or Ian, and you know it. We never will really be at peace."

"Do you know the history of your Trainee?"

"In fact, I do. He is one of the head-hunters rescued by Ian some time back, the first out of the reprogramming stasis chambers."

"Push natural behaviours away and they come back at a gallop, I guess."

"Did I hear P’Tarik right? I thought he said he could hear his Dragonling?"

"Telepathy. He is getting pretty good with it. I have introduced him to Typhoon, Thorsten, Timor, Lord Agramon, and Greywolf on a telepathic level. He already knew them physically but it was interesting to watch his mind open up to other species. I have brought him to the Fairies as well. The next species he will meet is the Centaurs and then the Pegasuses. He has seen the Centaurs from afar, and he has seen the Pegasuses fly, but, apart from his own flying lessons with me, he has not talked to Black White-Wing, and, come to think of it, neither has he talked to Golden Horn, the Unicorn. I will add these two to the meeting list this afternoon."

"Talking about the Fairies, did you notice that Iridia smells differently?"

"Yes. She is pregnant! And you can guess who is the proud Father!"

"Not Timor?"

"Yes. He shape-shifted into a very charming Fairy Prince, and they married and consumed their union. I am monitoring the growth of the foetus, blocking the expression of the majority of the traits of Timor so Iridia survives the pregnancy. Once the Baby is out, I will remove the blocks."

"And we were not invited?"

"That was the first marriage. They are in their trial period. They are now hard at work organising the Royal wedding. According to the Fairies, a wedding is only real when the first Child is born. The Royal, and Official, wedding is held the day after the Baby is born. So many interesting customs too: the Child’s birthday is the same day as the official wedding, and, according to the Fairies, serves as a reminder of their love."

"The Mother must be very tired. Giving birth is no more fun for them than it is for us. I only need to fish in my past lives to understand the meaning of ‘pains of labour’!"

"Yes. It is funny I cannot access a memory of a stay as a Fairy in previous lives. I have access to a profusion of Human, Elf, Equine, and Canine, and even some Dwarf passages, but no Fairies."

"Or Orcs and Trolls."

"Or Orcs and Trolls. We need to figure out why. What is your impression of P’Tool?"

"The Orc? He lost his superb. He realised quickly even a two-year old Atlantean could send him to the Hospital, and he now works hard to catch up. I cannot say he is happy, he is not, but he knows better than to voice is discontent. Harp, I will be honest with you. I do not trust him. I have a feeling he is bidding his time."

"That is why he has a set of magical traps in his mind. The moment he goes too far, he ends up in the brig. He will get his memory bleached for his efforts. He will not even know his name the day he gets out of there."

"How come you did that?"

"P’Tarik pointed him out to me. I installed the blocks immediately, and then I did a full memory scan. That guy is a first-class prick, as so clearly identified by P’Tarik."

"I am reassured. His motor training will not go away when his cognitive memory is wiped, so the training will not be lost."

"Especially since I will personally wipe his mind to a clean slate."

"I gather you have some vested interests in the whole affair?"

"Yes. I am grooming P’Tarik to take the leadership of the Orcs, and P’Tool is bound to be a thorn in the side of that project."

"Does P’Tarik know of your intentions?"

"No. He will earn his way to Orc Royalty the same way we did, by hard work. By the time the Adults begin getting out of reprogramming, he will have a solid base, and the Adults will be forced to deal with him, without too many interventions from us. Orcs are proud people, and they deserve the illusion of self-governance. I am sure P’Tarik will not be fooled, but he will go along. He is way too bright to miss the boat."

***

The next morning came early for everyone. Paschal as well as Alexander had gone to bed in the wee hours of the night. Alexander was still sleeping. Everyone realised his presence on the Bridge was unnecessary. P’Tarik hopped to the Dragons’ nest to feed his Dragonling, and then came back to the Royal Suite for the trip to the Bridge. Enron was verifying his calculations over and over again with the help of AI-5. He had spent the previous day running simulations in AI-6’s simulator. Everyone understood how serious things were when Ian came out of his suite in full Captain’s uniform rather than his usual bare-arsed self. Each one scurried to their room to reorganise their appearance. Harp came out with his Royal Prince Mage toga, a sparkling deep-sea blue silk bordered on the sleeves with gold filigrees, Bata held firmly in his right hand. Timor bore his black leather and gold stash along with his finely hammered leather belt tightening his forest-green dress robe around his hips. Iridia came back with a delicate pink dress tied at the hip by a gold string. Samson came out of his suite wearing a three-piece suit in the colours of an oak in the fall. Enron wore a similar suit, but in the spring colours of the oak. Colibri had a suit made of Bird feathers that gave him the appearance of his namesake. Sitar made his appearance in a blood red uniform with a double-breasted vest adorned with gold buttons engraved with the image of different weapons. Dunbar and Williams made their way to the salon wearing their respective Orders’ colours: Earth-brown and gold for Dunbar, and redwood and silver for Williams. Paschal made his way to the room in a white toga laced with a fine drawing representing the working tools of an Architect: a compass holding a pendulum and a ruler. Harold was not to be outdone so he emerged in full Royal regalia, Crown on the head and command mace at hand. Typhoon came out in full gold, shining like a rising Sun, his scales polished to the point other squinted as he walked by. He wore a simple gold breechcloth, which matched his skin colour perfectly. The last to come to the hall was P’Tarik. He wore his Mage toga, a white linen piece of cloth, with a gold stash across the breast and a gold string tied around his waist.

"Well done, P’Tarik. That white cloth contrasts perfectly with your black fur and you look superb!" said Sitar as he spotted the young Orc walking in. The others applauded loudly to his good taste and P’Tarik blushed furiously.

"Let us get to the mess hall and have a quick breakfast. Thorsten will meet us there. He got his mithril chainmail on today, but he had to finish polishing his axe. Greywolf is already there, in full uniform," said Ian as he walked to the portal nexus and programmed the destination.

The arrival of the Royals created a hush in the hall. If any doubt remained of the importance of that day, it evaporated instantly. Greywolf was already at the Royal table, dispatching orders for the day. His uniform, black and foreboding, showed the pins of his rank; the only concession he did to the entire thing was the presence of a gold collar and sleeves. Beside him stood Lord Agramon, wearing a deep purple and gold-bordered open-breast cape with no sleeves tied around his neck by a gold pin. The cloth descended to his calves and was tied at his waist by a gold tie string. Finally, a few minutes after the others, Thorsten made his entry, shining in his mithril chainmail and wearing his axe and hammer proudly.

"Let us eat. Departure is in three hours, at tierce, on-board time," Ian said. "Status report as of now?"

"Dianne is in secondary Bridge and her Crew will be replaced by Alaric an hour before departure; the primary Bridge is currently under command of Aido-Hwedo," reported the Quartermaster. "Everything is tied up except the kitchen, and that will be done in an hour, after the mess hall has been cleared. All decks report ready for departure. Animals are currently in their den, waiting for the signal to take to their couches. The Elves and Humans in charge of the Ark Zoo are reporting the Birds are in their safety nets, and the Fishes have taken to the bottom. Everything else is in place. Even the Bees and Wasps are staying indoors. Security detail is currently in the process of rotation. Emergency repair teams are in their assigned stations, and Spider Crews are boarding as we speak."

"Thank you for the information."

"At your service, Prince Ian. I must now transfer the reports to my replacement. She just walked in."

***

The day Crew took their station an hour before tierce, and the night Crew reported to their travel station after a quick lunch. Half an hour before orbital escape, the earliest traces of the Scavengers were reported, half a light-year and four hours and 15 minutes away.

"Detonate the sensors closest to the Sol system. They are now useless," ordered Ian. ‘Enron, Paschal, slipstream status?"

"Ready!" said both Boys at the same time.

"Typhoon, shields?"

"At full power."

"Sitar, weapons?"

"Active and scanning for targets."

"Thorsten, long range sensors?"

"Detecting the front of the warp bubble from the Scavengers."

"Samson, course for the Pillars of Creation?"

"Course laid out."

"Ten minutes to tierce."

"Acknowledged."

The on-board clock seemed to slow to a standstill as it counted the last minutes. Everyone wondered what Ian had up his sleeves.

"Harp, block Magic sensors on everyone, including yourself."

"Acknowledged. Done."

"Two minutes to departure."

"Engage thrusters and navigate to pre-established jump point."

"Set the elevation at 33° 14' 12". Quarter impulse!" reported Enron, as the huge ship slowly left orbit heading for the southern pole of the orbital plane.

"Half impulse," fed Enron to Ian, as the space ship moved further from the binary star system. "Estimate to jump point at four hours."

A few minutes later, Enron felt safe enough to call out: "Full impulse. Estimate to jump point at two hours."

"All right. Let us wait. By then they will be looking for us with long-range sensors, and seeing no outgoing warp signature, they will conclude we are still in the system. We will be, but they will not be expecting what their sensors will tell them and probably completely misjudge the situation."

"Why block Magic senses so early?" asked Harp.

"I just about put everyone to sleep so no one has headaches, Harp. The only ones still awake are the active Crew. What I will do could burn even a weak Mage. I will even do the task blind, because even I could get burned otherwise."

"You are scaring me."

"Good. It should put the fear of God into the Scavengers as well, if they survive."

The cameras on the space ship showed the sphere navigating with an elegant grace within the debris flying around the star system. As they passed the piece of junk that had so intrigued Harp on their arrival, Ian asked what his research had revealed.

"It was a mining robot. It still is functioning because it derives its energy from the mineral it mines. It is doomed to run out of fuel within the next 500,000 years."

"And what kind of energy source was that?"

"Low-grade uranium."

"Okay. Anyway, it will be gone when I am done. Have you and Enron studied the technology?"

"Yes. It is primitive compared to the mining Spiders."

"Okay."

"Five minutes to jump point," said Enron.

"Alignment?"

"Within tolerance for now. It is improving as we get closer."

"Samson, tick the minutes, and then the seconds during the last minute!"

"Okay, Ian."

"Paschal, quantum drive ready?"

"Ready to engage on Enron’s command."

At one minute, Samson’s voice was heard counting the time backward. At 10 to zero, the tension on the Bridge was palpable.

"Five four three two one "

"Disappear!" ordered Ian just as the Atlantean space ship jumped into inter-dimensional space and found itself transported 6,500 light-years away in the blink of an eye.

"Disengage quantum drive!" ordered Ian almost in the same breath he had ordered the binary stars to disappear by Magic.

As the space ship returned to normal space, it was met with a barrage of hard radiation. The Pillars of Creation had dissipated, to be replaced by a nursery of young stars of all sizes.

"Harp, you can release the lock on Magic. We are safe."

"Thank Gaia! Are you nuts doing what you did?"

"Hey, remember your lessons that explained the difference between dispersing and disintegrating? Can you imagine the energy wall that is currently devouring what was once a binary star system? The Scavengers will be hit by a wall of energy so intense they will burn up before figuring out what happened. And those following them will be taken as much by surprise. This is in the order of a double whammy of a supernova. They too will be either killed or blinded. No sensor array equals death in space. We can study this nursery in peace. There are now no chances whatsoever that the Scavengers will be able to follow us. And the sensor array we left behind is adding to the confusion and total energy output. For all it may concern, this space ship got blown up in that humongous explosion."

Harp was white as a ghost, shaking on his legs. Sitar hugged him and tried to comfort the Prince of Magic.

"You do not understand, Sitar. What he ordered was the total annihilation of a binary star system: stars, planets, everything. Do the maths! That is bound to create a tidal wave in the gravitational continuum. It will dissipate but, Brother, it might cross the entire galaxy before it dampens enough to be undetectable. And what about time! You know time is affected by gravity! Time will slow down, and stop while the crest passes, and then it will accelerate. If there are aftershocks, and I think there will be, that process will repeat itself for some time, like a cosmological earthquake."

"I figured as much. What will happen to the magical continuum? That is what I want to know, Prince of Magic, Brother mine!"

Harp’s eyes almost got out of their sockets as he realised the importance of Sitar’s question. After some thinking, he came to the inevitable conclusion.

"Magic will be unstable at the crest, because it is intimately related to the fabric of space-time. However, it will still be practical. There might be spontaneous cases of Magic in otherwise non-magical being across the Galaxy but it should not spread any further. Paschal, I want you to establish a Magic beacon. Any individual of any species showing Magic as the wave passes is to be ported to Thebes without further warning. Tie it to the crest. It is still mere minutes off the star system, so port it from here."

"Talk about a long-distance port: 6,725 light-years."

"So? You can do it. So can any of us."

"All right. Give me 20 minutes to get that beacon up and to tie it to the wave. By then it should not have reached the Scavengers, who will be the first hit."

"I am not worried about them. The energy wall will disperse them. It is further afield that things can become iffy."

"Right. Everyone back to work. We have a sea of new star systems to study. Harp, since Paschal is busy, you join Thorsten in trying to locate orichalque and mithril."

"Okay. Ian."

***

It took half an hour and Harp’s help for Paschal to successfully assemble a beacon and a relay that would ride the gravity wave, surfing it as it expanded throughout the Milky Way.

"Why surf the gravity wave?" asked Enron.

"A simple fact: the Magic wave crests just picoseconds before the gravity wave. By the time the gravity wave reaches the location, the magical signature will get frozen, and the individual ported, stopping it from doing any change whatsoever in the backwash of the gravity wave. I calculated we have less than half a pico-second to collect the individual, stop the Magic from enacting a decision or a wish, and otherwise perturb the natural flow of events," said Harp, still looking crossly at Ian sitting comfortably in the Captain’s chair.

"The beacon not only brings us the individual, but records its time-space point of origin. We will be able to hop from one point to the next to study the magical potential of the species, especially if there are many from the same source."

"I understand, Paschal. Is this not a blessing in disguise?"

"I do not see how?" asked Harp, as pissed as ever.

"Well, what are we trying to do?"

"Save lives?"

"Aye, but all lives or a subset of it?"

"Well, I would give preference to high-order life forms. I do not see the interest in saving plankton," said Harp.

"And what kind of life is Magic-capable?"

"High-order life forms. Their nature may vary greatly, but it is a pre-requisite that the individual must have the capacity to create a functional image of his environment and picture his needs for Magic to take hold."

"Do you not get it? By pointing to us where Magic occurs, this wave gives us the means to assess where high-order life forms exist. We prioritise these locations over the others, and we have a better chance to get what we are looking for. I am not saying we must neglect the rest, but at least we will not be fishing blindly. And the fact that an area gives more Mages indicates a higher potential for Magic within the general population. Is that not an added bonus?"

"Wipe that smirk off your face Ian, before I dunk you in the Oceanic layer of the Ark tessaract!" thundered Harp, unwilling to admit the little pest had outsmarted him.

"Sore loser!" quipped Ian, bringing a round of laughter from the rest of the Crew.

"Do not push your luck, twit!"

"What you need to do before materialising the incoming port is to hold it in transit so you can prepare the receptacle for the life form, Paschal. After all, not every life form thrived on oxygen, and not all life forms are bathed by an atmosphere at one kilobar."

"Damn it, Enron is right. Luckily we have time to set this in place. Harp, back to the laboratory. We have to design a holding pen."

"By the way, put it in a level five containment field as well. Who knows what that higher life form may be carrying? And I am not talking about weapons, but more about microbial life. Make sure the pen is sterile on arrival and gets sterilised before opening the force field."

"Shit! Shit! Shit! Let us get going!"

Harp and Paschal ported directly to the biological laboratory and began designing a replicable and extensible holding pen. Another hour was required to finish the whole task. They then returned to the Bridge.

"It is done, Enron. Thanks for bringing these weaknesses to our attention," said Paschal.

"Just in time Boys. The shock wave has just reached the closest star system from its point of origin. Harp, monitor magical signature bursts. From our long-range sensor readings, it held no life, but who knows?" said Harold.

"I have a sound alarm the moment a magical burst occurs. If you hear the charge of the light Cavalry, it means there was a burst. The counters there tell us two things: the total number of magical bursts, and their maximum frequency by unit time."

The first star system got swept without triggering a magical burst, and, according to Samson, the next star system was 11 light-years away from the centre, or nine light-years away from the current wave.

"Is it not strange that the wave travels at warp speed?" asked Thorsten.

"It is not matter, it is not light, it is gravity pushing a Magic wave ahead, and so it is not restricted by Einsteinian laws of Physics. Since it seems to have met the Scavengers at half the distance, giving them barely an inkling of Magic before they got destroyed, I can safely estimate that the wave travels at warp eight," said Samson. "The Scavengers were hit by the gravity wave and probably disabled some three minutes ahead of the energy front. They were less than slightly over eight light minutes off system when we jumped. By the time the first gravitational wave hit them they had come closer by an additional three light-minutes, putting them at five light-minutes from the stars. They lost the warp drive instantly, and probably imploded upon colliding with the gravitational wave. We all know what happens to a warp drive in these situations. By the time they emerged, probably as dust particles, from warp, the energy wave was on them, less than a minute away. They were dispersed into a thin cloud of dust."

"Animae omnium fidelium defunctorum per Dei misericordiam requiescant in pace¹⁴¹⁴ ("May the souls of all the departed faithful by God’s mercy rest in peace.")," said Harp, sending the epitaph of the Scavengers to the winds of space and time for eternity.

"Amen!" replied the others solemnly.