The longboat slammed into the docking fields and Simon enveloped the smaller vessel. Zero-Four shook his head, turned silently and went to the control chamber.
The earth tore itself apart.
Shiva rejoined Simon in space.
The Jennings family sat quietly together.
West was troubled, lost in his thoughts.
((my sensors indicated four humans on the surface. where are the other two?))
“They were—I don’t know, Simon. I don’t know.”
((i’d hoped that the shadow signature was maggie’s.))
“Me too, Simon.”
((is everything all right, michael?))
Zero-Four looked up, into the eyes of the nearly transparent, silver image that floated in the spherical expanse before him. A momentary flicker of interference clouded the image, which then returned to its former clarity. Standing like a phantom in the black of the control chamber, a perfect, somehow metallic image of the man he had just let fall into the crevasse in the dying earth was projected before him. Simon Hayes.
“No, Simon. It’s—I don’t know what’s going on.”
It’s falling apart. Our worlds are colliding. The Program is collapsing.
The vessel shook gently.
((the planet, michael. do you want to witness totality?))
“Not this time, old friend. Not this time.”
He retreated into his thoughts.
They watched from the viewscreens as the planet was torn apart in the fury of the black hole. Implosion and cessation, the process was complete. The Enemy had won another When. They turned from the image with tears wetting their faces. Everything they had known, everything they had loved, was gone.
Brave new world.
The planet fell upon itself, died.
Earth, planet of humanity. Planet of mankind.
Planet of the dead.
[course of action?]
((send a beacon to command. call for all available judas to converge upon next harvest when, coordinates to follow. the enemy’s been routed, and in this moment of their weakness, we have to strike. from all whens, from all alternities, from all of eternity, the judas must converge.))
[precise nextwhen coordinates have been calculated from extrapolation of enemy purpose contrail transit data.]
((good. transmit the coordinates to the fleet, and we’ll go join malachi.))
[affirmative.]
((preparing to disembark on nextwhen transit.))
“Understood, Simon. Another When, another war.” Zero-Four locked the hatch on the stasis chamber, felt the shift and the wash of phase space. He hoped in the instant before his pattern was uploaded into the Whenstream that this time he would not dream.
A pause, a silence. A quiet but troubled sleep of aeons.
The warriors of the Judas faded from existence once more upon paths into damnation.
time of the damned
once upon a time
la la la!
within the black
the man who was Judas
screamed
and held on to
the last strands of
sanity
the vessel that was
Judas Simon
struggled to force
the memories of
her
from his soul
the Enemy sought their Purpose
the deception was
complete
and the
end times
began.
a white place, out of time.
“Incoming beacon.”
“Read it.”
“It’s encrypted for Commander Kilbourne.”
“Who sent it?”
“Mujahadin Malachi.”
“Patch it through to her immediately.”
It began.
Applause over the helmet speakers.
“I dub thee Anubis.”
From her position on the open docking ring of the Judas Lazarus II, Judas Commander Hannah Kilbourne tossed the bottle of champagne at the gunship below her.
End over end over end. Impact.
More applause.
“And with that, comrades, the newest class of Judas is ready for operation.”
Kilbourne looked around at the spectators. Hundreds? Thousands? The number changed daily. Hourly. Especially within this last engagement. So many had perished at the hands of the damned. So many sacrifices…
“Ladies and gentlemen, I present the Mujahadin.”
Roars of applause. Cheering.
Mujahadin. Soldiers of god.
The final hope.
It slept but did not sleep.
It was aware of the incoming projectile. It judged that it was harmless and let the champagne bottle shatter against the top surface of its port weapons nacelle.
So now it was a Judas.
With all of its mechanical intellect it sensed the urgency of the mission, the vast importance of success.
It did not fear.
It was not programmed to fear.
As only a machine can, it smiled inwardly.
Almost time…
“Commander Kilbourne? Priority message from Mujahadin Malachi.”
She had been admiring the new fleet but quickly boarded the vessel upon hearing this.
She pulled off her helmet. “Patch it through.” She placed her hand on the security scanner and waited as the machine withdrew a miniscule blood sample, tested it, coded her DNA and interpreted her pattern, identified her, and decrypted the message.
She read the message.
PREDATOR BECOMES PREY. PREY BECOMES PREDATOR.
Good. That problem had been eliminated.
No one would know. No one.
Events were being set into motion. Preparations were almost complete.
It was time.
black
from within the impossibility of hope and reason, a countless number of raging voices appeared, a tide of the wails of the damned. the voices rose and fell, but each contributed to the atmosphere of ((panic despair hate)) within the blackness.
THEY THEY CAN’T DO THAT THEY CAN’T—
THE PURPOSE IS LOST THE PURPOSE IS DEFEATED—
THEY WILL PAY FOR THIS THE PURPOSE WILL OVERCOME THEM—
and over all, a calm voice resonated.
SILENCE. THE PURPOSE WILL BE COMPLETED.
BUT—
SILENCE. SUBMIT OR CEASE.
I OBEY. WE OBEY.
THE VERMIN SEE NOT VICTORY, BUT ARE BLINDED BY FALSE HOPE. ONE WEB WAS LOST. IS ONE WEB THE TURNPOINT OF THE PURPOSE((?)) I THINK NOT.
BUT OUR FORCES—
—WERE DESTROYED IN THAT WHEN. SOULS WERE LOST. DOES THAT DEFEAT THE ENTIRE PURPOSE((?)) HAVE THE VERMIN NOT TAKEN MANY OF US BEFORE((?)) THEY HAVE STOLEN ONLY FRAGMENTS OF THE PATTERN. OMEGA’S GLORY STRETCHES FURTHER THAN THE CONTAGION CAN EVER BEGIN TO REALIZE.
…
THEY THINK WE ARE WEAK. ARE WE((?))
…
ARE WE((?))
NO.
AND IF THEY SEE US AS WEAKLINGS, IT IS THEY WHO ARE AT A DISADVANTAGE.
YES.
THEY ASSUME WE FEAR THEM.
…
WE DO NOT FEAR. THE JUDAS ARE A VIRUS. A CONTAGION. AN EPIDEMIC. THEY WILL BE ELIMINATED. THEY WILL BE PURGED FROM THE END PATTERN.
realization.
DO YOU SO SOON FORGET THE LAST ENGAGEMENT((?))
THE AMBUSH. A RUSE. A TRAP. VICTORY.
YES.
insight.
WE SHALL STRIKE FIRST.
WE SHALL STRIKE FIRST.
the black closes
The interface gauntlets slid from her hands.
A mesh of wires released her body from its brutally silken embrace. Her thin form sat alone in the battle chamber of the Judas Mara.
Sapphire.
She let the waves of exhaustion sweep through her, and she shuddered with the emotion of the battle. She began to shake, and she wept.
In the chamber, she seemed to float in a dizzying field of debris, remnants of the last wave of the Enemy horde. She reached out, as if she could touch one of the shards. The spherical battle chamber holoprojector was far from top-of-the-line, but it was still unsettlingly realistic.