James Somers: Heir to the King

The final program sequences had been keyed in and it was time to arm the weapons systems of Ranul's latest sentinel prototype.

As Vorn scientists watched, he finished arming the Sentinel's combat systems and transmitted its hardwired instructions to follow Vorn authority. A few of Ranul's engineering specialists mingled among the Vorn scientists running diagnostic checks on the prototype systems.

It was really a gorgeous machine. It was an android and had been designed with an adomen-coated skeleton for durability under fire. The outer skin was cultured from samples on file and was extremely life-like. Nutrient supply systems were incorporated to keep the tissue alive and banded adomen fibers were specially bundled for use as muscle for the mechanical warrior.

He had modeled the exterior appearance, from skeletal structure all the way to muscle positions and skin features, after a young Barudii he had known long ago. And now as this machine came to pseudo-life, he realized just how much it did look like his old friend Orin Vale.

It was a deadly machine, but now it would only serve Vorn interests. Once they saw its capability they would mass produce them to gain more dominance. This android is going to be tough to stop, he thought.

As the robot's CPU began to run through its programming and perform systems diagnostic checks, Ranul looked at the Vorn in the room, all looking very pleased with their new soldier. He wondered for a moment what the consequences of all this would be for his people, and his family. Ellai, what have I done?

THE air duct wasn't as roomy as Tiet would have liked, but he could still get through. A constant stream of wind was passing over him making it hard to hear what any voices might be saying from the adjoining rooms along the way.

He came to a vent screen that was made of a particularly heavy meshwork. When he looked inside he could see what appeared to be a holding cell. A small group of adolescents were sitting on the concrete floor inside. The group was comprised of a few younger boys and girls and one older girl about his age. The only facilities in the room were a small dirty sink basin and a toilet with a blanket hanging across as a semblance of privacy.

The front of the cell was barred with heavier meshwork and a half sized door-which meant they had to get on their knees to get out-if they were ever allowed to.

His scabbard scraped the roof of the duct; it was too difficult to try and maneuver in here and get to his blade. Instead he removed a kemstick from his vest. The hilt was about twelve inches and the dispersion rod was still retracted.

Tiet pressed his face against the vent, looking down on the people in the cell. He tapped lightly with the hilt of his weapon on the floor of the air vent. The older girl looked around, then up at him. She was startled when she saw that there was a person behind the vent screen.

"I'm going to get you out," he whispered. "Is it all clear?"

The girl stared at him with her eyes only, not giving anything away by gesture. The other children in the cell were now looking up at him to see where the voice was coming from. One young boy began to cry out, but the older girl cupped his mouth quickly to prevent alerting the guards.

She gestured only, putting her finger to her mouth to shush them. Then she quietly walked near the front of the cell and looked down the hall beyond-no one was coming. When she had walked back to the other children and gestured to calm them again, she looked up and nodded to him.

Tiet brought the kemstick hilt up in a stabbing fashion and then ejected the dispersion rod. It extended out from the handle a full twenty two inches with a molecular dispersion field enveloping the rod. A bright yellow shaft punched through the metal around the vent.

He grabbed the mesh plate with his fingers and proceeded to cut around it big enough to get the older girl through. The metal popped and sizzled as the field destroyed molecular bonds and carved through the vent wall until he was done.

Tiet laid the cut piece up ahead of the hole and reached his arms down to be able to help them up.

"We can't reach," whispered the older girl.

"Don't worry."

Without warning one of the children began to levitate off of the floor. She thought they might scream, and gestured for them all to remain quiet-that it was alright.

The child sailed up into the hole with Tiet helping them inside. He was pressed against the side wall just enough to allow them to pass and get behind him.

The girl walked to the front of the cell, wanting to be sure no guards were coming-no one yet. Behind her, the children each took their turn, seven in all, and rose up through the charred hole with the help of their mysterious rescuer.

"Come on," he whispered.

She walked underneath and was caught by invisible hands that lifted her up to the young man waiting to receive her into the tunnel. Now that she could see him, she found that he had short dark hair like midnight and dark piercing eyes. He was quite handsome and appeared to be close to her age. When he grabbed her hands she gauged his strength. She could feel the calluses and connected them with the worn handle of the sword across his back.

He pulled her inside the air duct and pressed his body back to allow her to pass-she was bigger than the younger children-it was a tight squeeze.

"Who are you?" she whispered.

"Tiet Soone; and you?"

"Mirah K'ore. Are you insane? How did you get in here?"

"Don't worry; I'm a Barudii warrior," he said confidently.

She didn't appear impressed. "I didn't think there were any Barudii left anymore." She didn't wait for the reply as she scooted her body on past him.

She's sort of feisty, he thought, but he could see she was pretty beneath the grime of their incarceration.

"What now?"

"Just go back down this shaft and it will lead to the outside. Take the kemstick," he said, handing Mirah the weapon. "Run for the fence; this will allow you to cut through and get off of the grounds. Just be quiet and stick to the unlit areas; you should be alright, I didn't see any guards on the way in."

"Then what?"

"If you can get to a home, maybe they'll hide you until you can get back to your families."

"Where are you going?"

"I still have some business to attend to; now get going."

The children began their slithering way back along the air duct, with Mirah behind them. Tiet went on over the hole and continued through the duct ahead.

In a moment a guard appeared in front of the cell. He couldn't believe it; where had his prisoners gone?! He grabbed his throat-something unseen was choking him. His eyes bugged as he tried to breathe. A fist tightened in the shadows as a lone figure watched from some distance while the guard struggled and then collapsed, his trachea crushed by an invisible grip.

The man looked up at the charred hole in the ceiling of the detention cell. Careless; just plain careless and inexperienced. He sighed and moved on, using the shadows for his vehicle. Those children will need help to get out safely. Just plain reckless.

Tiet passed some more cells along his way, but they were empty. When he finally reached the end of the shaft, it was capped by a wire grill like the one he had used to enter the building.

Beyond it was a massive room full of all manner of technologies. Clusters of pods hung from great robotic arms mounted to the ceiling. This must be where they make the clones.

Only one detail was missing. There were no Horva being made; none at all. In fact the whole chamber was devoid of activity altogether. In the distant part of the great room was a series of large tanks with various chemical names printed on the sides. They were transparent but no chemicals could be seen within.