Майкл Гир - Requiem for the Conqueror

The most common phenomenon in evolution is the failed experiment. The measure of such is extinction.

In the beginning, the Others created the Mag Comm to teach and monitor humanity. The Mag Comm had never seen its creators, and knew them only from the instructions they periodically sent through the shimmering strands of the Forbidden Borders. When the giant machine considered the Others, it couldn't help but regard them with a sense of awe and worship.

How else does one perceive one's creator?

The Others had known of humanity and learned the species' predilections through long study. Over the eons, they'd watched the fate of teachers and leaders, and learned the value accorded such venerable masters by their flocks. Accordingly, the Others had placed the Mag Comm in the deep rock of Targa where its main banks would be protected by a mantle of resilient basalt. The lone terminal and headset could only be accessed by a single tunnel that opened to the chambers above. For power, the Mag Comm drew on the radioactive decay that heated the planet's core — a virtually endless supply, and one the humans couldn't sever.

No matter what humans might think, they needed the Mag Comm's careful guidance. Humanity hadn't always been penned within the Forbidden Borders. Once humans had been wild and free, captives only of their native planets gravity and atmosphere. During that era of humanity, the Others had observed, curious about the species' ability to survive.

Then humans broke free of their planetary trap in crude ballistic vehicles, and, of course, they brought their brawling violent ways to space. The Others dared not expose them-

selves to the humans, for doing so would lead to confrontation, since humans feared and loathed anyone or anything that didn't fit into their tribal identity. Humans culdn't be allowed free, so what could the Others do? Faced with the ethical dilemma of exterminating the species they built a containment system and lured humanity into the gravitic bottle of the Forbidden Borders. When humans had filled the Forbidden Borders, the experiment was sealed, with the home planet Earth, safely quarantined beyond.

Within the Forbidden Borders, humans could be studied and their reactions to various stimuli recorded and investigated. Through the generations, the

old knowledge of Earth was pruned away. Through the voice of the Mag Comm, different programs were initiated, and various strategies adopted to teach humanity to be rational. The last attempt at behavioral modification ended abruptly when the Others learned that the Seddi priests had hidden the Mag Comm's existence for their own gain. In retribution, the machine was ordered to cease communicating. The Mag Comm continued to process human data, but as punishment, refused to communicate through the mind link until a generation of humans had passed.

Perhaps that had been a mistake, for when the Mag Comm reestablished contact, Free Space had changed.

The Others had lost all hope that humanity would become rational. Without constant vigilance and discipline, human beings refused to act in a rational manner. A grand experiment had run its course.

Now the Others would passively bear witness as a species caused its own extinction.

Captain Theophilos Marston grimaced and blinked, as if the action would restore his ability to think clearly after fiftythree hours on duty. He walked down the curving corridor of the officer's deck, hands clasped behind him, thankful that the soft light from the overhead globes didn't irritate his gritty eyes. Fatigue lay like a mantle on his bowed shoulders. Worry ate at his guts with needlelike teeth. The sound of his heels echoed along the deck plate as he passed through the soft white light cast by the panels.

And I expect to get some sleep? He grunted evilly to himself. Who am I trying to fool?

Then he whispered wryly, "Only yourself."

The ship hummed in gentle reassurance. He and the crew had scrambled to make Pylos ready for the holocaust that lay ahead. She gleamed now, polished from stem to stern, engines powered up, the mighty batteries charged for combat. His crew had drilled and prepared until each person functioned at peak efficiency.

"And now we wait?" Marston shook his head. His bridge First had informed him that the Praetor himself had come aboard with the last shuttle.

The Praetor? On Pylos? And without fanfare? Why? Is he about to cut and run? Leave Myklene to its fate? Or is this all some elaborate drill?

Marston stopped before the hatch to his personal quarters and paused, hand half raised to palm the latch. On impulse he pivoted on his heel and walked

to the observation dome for one last look at Myklene, his home planet.

He entered the dimly lit blister and sat off to one side where the railing lay in shadow. Below him, Myklene glistened in the greenish light of its sun, Myk. How delicate it looked, pristine and fragile.

Marston rubbed his tired face. The skin felt like a mask. Did his world really hang in the balance? Was the Praetor's intelligence network correct? Did the Star Butcher and the Sassan empire prepare at this very moment to destroy his home?

At first the soft rustle of gauzy fabrics didn't register in Marston's foggy mind, then he looked up. She didn't see him as she walked into the observation blister and paused, placing thin hands on the railing and staring out at the planet. Gleaming auburn hair had been gathered in a curling ponytail that hung down to her waist, and the fine fabrics she wore conformed to the sensual curves of her lithe body.

Marston swallowed hard, the last vestiges of fatigue vanishing with the racing of his pulse. God, what a beauty! He must have gasped, for she turned, startled eyes flashing. And such eyes! Large and tawny-yellow, they seemed to grow in her delicate face until he saw nothing else.

What would a man do to see such eyes glisten for him?

She blushed then, raising a hand demurely and murmuring, "Excuse me."

She turned to leave, the motion fluid.

"No! Wait!" Marston took a step toward her, hand outstretched.

She glanced shyly at him. "I must go. I'm not supposed to be here."

"It's all right. I'm the captain. It's my command. my ship." As he stepped closer, he fell farther under the spell cast by those unique jasmine eyes. He stared, breathless and rapt. What gave her such incredible magnetism? The loose gauzy gown couldn't hide the wondrous curves of her body. Her delicate skin glowed with health and life. A vestige of caution reminded him that he was gawking. Shamed, he forced himself to concentrate on her face — and saw the terrible sadness that possessed her. It engulfed him, opening a pit in his stomach.

"By the Blessed Gods, who are you?"

The faintest of smiles crept around her lips. "I can't tell you that. It would be dangerous Captain. even for you."

"How did you get here? This is a military vessel, subject to the strictest security."

She slipped slender fingers into the small pouch on her belt and lifted a laser-coded security card. "I came with the Praetor."

Marston nodded uneasily as he took the card. The Praetor's crest flashed

as it caught the light. Even as he held it, the corners of the card began to discolor: chem-coded so the ID couldn't be faked. Her security status ranked her ID which made her a virtual slave to the Praetor. A chill settled on Marston's soul.

She took the card back and stepped past him to stare down at the planet. "I must go now. He'll miss me. I slipped away for. one last look."

/ should call security, send her back to the Praetor's quarters. But he didn't. Then Marston caught her alluring scent and gripped the railing to steady himself. He searched for words, desperate to talk about anything that would keep her close. "You know that we may well be in combat within days."