T Southwell - Prophecy

"Shadowen, what's the probability that this Atlantean legend is true, and Rayne is the Golden Child?"

"The human female who accompanied you earlier?" At Tarke's nod, the ship went on, "I would say slim, if not for some recent data collected from the Atlantean space net. Apparently, on a trip to her former home world, Vengeance encountered a mysterious ship that claimed to be the Golden Child's guide. The ship was huge, and immune to the Atlanteans' weapons. It also used the transfer Net to leave the area instantaneously."

"It used the Net to make a complete transfer?"

"Correct."

Tarke frowned at the winking crystals before him. "Are you sure?"

"I am sure that is what the Atlantean space net’s information said, yes."

"You know the legend of the Golden Child, don't you?"

"Just as you do."

"Refresh my memory." Tarke laced his fingers and settled back.

"Translated into simple language, the legend says that at a certain time, the Atlanteans must save a golden girl child from a dying planet. She will, apparently, be able to avert a terrible catastrophe that will otherwise befall the Empire, and save it. This is not only an Atlantean legend, however, the Draycons have it too, but in their version, they must kill the Golden Child in order to rule the Atlantean Empire."

"But there's no mention of this strange ship in either of them?"

"No."

"So, the Draycons will soon find out she's still alive, and Atlan's protection is pretty shoddy," Tarke mused. "If Atlan falls, I'll be next on Drevina's extermination list. Perhaps it would be worthwhile to take out some insurance. What would happen if Drevina and her brother were to die suddenly?"

"They have no true heirs. By Drayconar tradition, she must bear her brother's twins. Drevina has a child by another male, but he's not considered a true heir. Draycon would be plunged into chaos, even civil war."

Tarke rubbed his chin, his eyes narrowed. "That might be a good thing." He sighed. "I want the Drayconar battle cruiser Norron destroyed. Send out the order."

"This will focus Atlan's attention even more on you."

He shrugged. "So be it."

"You have no idea what monster might emerge at the head of the Drayconar Empire. You might make it worse. And if the Draycons find out who killed their Empress, there would be reprisals."

"Then there must be no survivors. I have a feeling that by the time the Draycons sort themselves out and kill off all but one potential leader, whatever catastrophe is coming to Atlan will have run its course. It will prevent the Draycons from interfering any further in the prophecy. I have no love for Atlanteans, but at least they keep the Draycons quiet. Send the order."

Rayne sat back and rubbed her temples, switching off the data screen with a flick of her thoughts. Weariness tugged at her eyelids, but she forced herself to stretch and rise to wander over and gaze out at the soft rain that soaked the land outside. Since her return to Atlan three months ago, a great many things had happened. The beacon in her brain had been deactivated at her insistence, much to Rawn's delight. Tallyn had argued against it, but her status now allowed her to make certain demands, which the Atlanteans were obliged to fulfil in order to keep her good will. She had been questioned about her time with the Shrike, and had answered all the questions honestly.

They did not ask for his true name, and she did not offer it, so it remained her secret. Drevina's murderous plot would have earned her a severe reprimand from the Atlantean Council, and perhaps even a token visit by a warship, had she lived long enough. The debris of her ship, Norron, had been discovered in an asteroid belt not far from Drevga B, a Brentar mining colony. The Draycons had threatened the peaceful Brentar with retribution, then Atlan, before turning on each other. A bloody civil war now raged on Amranon and Periabel, the two principal Drayconar planets.

Soon after her return, she and Rawn had been taught to use their cyber implants, gaining easy access to all the Atlantean machines and data links. Whereas before they had to view the data via a screen, or listen to it, now they used a sensor pad and allowed the information to stream directly into their minds, accompanied by images and sensations, where necessary. They had also been allocated their own dwelling, and Rawn had started dating a low cast Atlantean girl. Once again, Rayne had forgone the social whirl to bury herself in research, primarily on the Shrike's empire, uncovering many unpleasant facts.

Most disturbing was the crime that had earned him a death sentence from the Atlanteans, the extermination of his race, the Antians, fifty years ago. The report was brief and sketchy, but said that a planetary distress signal had been received from the Antian home world, Elliadaren. By the time an Atlantean ship had reached it, the world was lifeless, rapidly descending into a nuclear winter. The only ship in orbit had been an outlaw craft called Night Hawk. Its pilot, when challenged, had identified himself as the Shrike, claimed responsibility for the destruction of Antian civilisation, and fled.

Rayne thought the situation demanded further investigation, but none had been attempted. The Atlanteans had accepted the confession and passed a sentence of death on the unknown individual who called himself the Shrike. Why had Tarke destroyed the Antians, and how? To do that to an entire civilisation should have been impossible, even with an armada of warships. It made no sense, and she resolved to find out more through other channels, if possible.

The rest of her research had confirmed his story, a list of bloody deeds performed in the building of a giant empire of ships and manpower, untold wealth and immense political might. The Shrike was certainly a force to be reckoned with, but the file lacked any sort of personal details other than an estimate of his age, a list of possible species and a description of his usual garb. It did contain a three-dimensional space map of his territory, which spanned a fair stretch of space, mostly populated with useless, barren planets.

In another file, she found a list of all his crimes since he had exterminated his race, any of which would have earned him a death sentence. He was blamed for seventy-four murders, all of which, oddly, were fellow slavers and outlaws who were also sentenced to death. In addition, he was supposed to be responsible for two massacres on slaver space stations, apparently instigated by him. She continued to dig, but only found a file that listed all his known aliases, one of which was the one the Rentarian had used, Grey Shrike. The file also listed his ships, whose number and strength amazed her, even though the file was several years out of date.

Rayne then requested data on the Antians, curious about why he had destroyed them. It took several hours for the information to be located and transferred from old archives, but when it reached her, she found it surprising. The Antians had been the eldest of what were known as the Younger Races, people who had developed after the Elder Races had left or died out. Elliadaren had been similar to Earth in many ways, except the climate was better, lacking hurricanes, quakes, tidal waves and volcanoes.

The weather had been gentle and predictable; the seasons followed a set pattern that did not deviate by more than a centimetre of rain. The Antians had more land than sea, their polar caps were small and their sun was an old, stable yellow dwarf, like Sol. One could argue that their system was old and decaying, but several million years had still been ahead of them. The Antians had not expanded into space, but had chosen to control their numbers and remain on their home world.

They had also forgone the usual armada of warships most advanced people kept for defence and aggression, although their home world was equipped with extensive defences that made their destruction at the hands of a single man in a small armed cargo ship even harder to believe. She searched in vain for a picture of an Antian, and the lack of one surprised her. At the end of the file, a single word blinked in red capitals. Extinct.