"Why not?"
"Because whatever caused this transformation—if it even was a transformation, didn't take place over geological spans of time: I think it happened virtually overnight. But then I've just arrived. I'm sure you've looked more deeply into the geological formations already."
Valerian hadn't had the chance to go any deeper than observational study, but suspected his father already knew that, and was bandying about his knowledge in an unconscious display of superiority.
"Of course," said Valerian, attempting to reassert his power. "My studies have shown that this formation is a blend of natural forces and artificial engineering. See here, where the natural camber of the rock has been molded and interfaced with what looks like some kind of metal reinforcement"
Arcturus looked closely at the rock Valerian indicated. "Yes, like a neosteel rebar in plascrete."
Valerian waved his father onward. "Come on, let's go inside: it's quite something. You'll not have seen anything like it."
"Don't be so sure—I've seen a lot these last few years."
"Nothing like this," promised Valerian.
His father stood in the center of the cave, though to call it such was to vastly diminish its unbelievable, incomprehensible scale. It was a gargantuan cathedral of light and stone and metal, fashioned deep in the bean of a mountain by an ancient race of gods. For surely no beings but gods could have hollowed out so massive a peak and not have it collapse in the millions, probably billions of years since they had first devised the means of its construction.
Gracefully curving ribs of rock soared overhead, each one thicker than the hull of a battlecruiser. Corbels the size of siege tanks jutted out of the walls and airy flying buttresses supported hanging finials and graceful descending archways of stone. Distance rendered them slim and delicate, but Valerian guessed most were at least twenty meters thick.
The very walls seemed to shimmer with internal bioluminescence, scads of light darting along the lengths of metal set in the stone like flickering embers of electrical current. Gems pulsed with a faint glow, as though in time with an infinitely slow and inaudible heartbeat.
Fluted stalactites descended in tapering spears, penetrating the roof like an inverted crown of ice pushed through the mountain's summit. A light mist hung in the upper reaches of the enormous cavern, a cloud system that kept the air moist and reduced the internal humidity.
The interior of the cave seemed to point even more conclusively to a deliberate hand in its creation, its scale making a mockery of any such human constructions. Entire fleets could fit within this enormous cavern andm for all Valerian knew, perhaps they had.
"It's incredible," said Arcturus, and Valerian was surprised to hear genuine emotion in his voice. "I've never seen the like."
"Told you," said Valerian, pleased he had been able to surprise his father.
"And you think this is alien?"
"Don't you?" replied Valerian, surprised at the question.
"I suppose it's possible," conceded his father, "but even if it's true, what does it matter? Whoever built this is long dead and gone."
"Aren't you curious about who built it? What great secrets we might learn from them?"
"Not especially. They are nothing but dust now and no one remembers them. How great could they have been?"
Valerian's frustration at his father's obstinate refusal to grasp the enormity of such revelations grew with every word Arcturus uttered, and his temper began to fray. He realized he'd been sucked into his father's reality by the man's apparent interest in the ancient cave. Valerian shook himself free of it as all the things he had wanted to say to his father suddenly rushed to the forefront of his mind.
"Where have you been all these years?" he blurted. "Why did you never come for us? Didn't you care for us?"
His father turned from his contemplation of the vast cavern, its majesty forgotten in an instant as he saw that the pleasant fiction of a father and son bonding was at an end.
"It was too dangerous," he said simply. "The Confederacy wants me dead and if they knew where you were, they would use you to get to me. There's no great mystery to it, Valerian."
"My mother is ill," said Valerian. "Did you know?"
"Yes, I know."
"Do you care?"
"Of course I care," snapped Arcturus. "What kind of childish question is that?"
"Childish? Is it childish to wonder where you were when the mother of your son is dying?"
"Ailin told me your mother's cancer was inoperable," said Arcturus. "Is he right?"
"He is," confirmed Valerian, fighting to control his anger and hurt. "And all this running from planet to planet and moon to moon isn't doing her any good. It's just making her worse."
"And what would it have achieved if I had come rushing to your side, save put you both in danger?" said Arcturus. "Did you want me to come and help you hold your mother's hand as she lay on her deathbed? Is that it? Well, Valerian, I'm sorry, but that would have achieved nothing. I have greater concerns than comforting you. Or your mother."
Valerian wanted to launch himself al his father and wipe the uncaring expression from his face with his fists, but he kept his anger locked tightly within himself. Though he hated to admit it, Valerian found himself admiring the man's ability to think logically and focus in the face of what would have broken the composure of a lesser man.
But still, he had things to say to his father that needed saying, regardless of whether or not they would penetrate his armor of conceit
"Greater concerns? Like overthrowing the Confederacy?"
"Exactly," said Arcturus. "And such a goal requires sacrifice. We have all lost people in the course of this war, son, including me: my parents, Dorothy, Achton."
"Who?"
"He was my father's head of security, and a good man."
"What happened to him?"
"He was on Korhal when the missiles hit."
"Ah."
"But their deaths will gain meaning when the Confederacy lies in ruins and you and I step in to fill the void. We can do it, Valerian. I have an army behind me that is the equal of anything the Confederacy can field. It's only a matter of time until they break and we can rule what they leave behind. But we can do it right, and found an empire for the good of humanity."
"The good of humanity?" spat Valerian. "You mean the benefit of the Mengsk dynasty."
Arcturus shrugged. "I see no difference between the two," he said.
"And you'd want me beside you?" said Valerian, trying to keep the hope from his voice.
"Of course," replied Arcturus, coming over and gripping his shoulders. “You are my son and you are a Mengsk. Who else would be worthy to stand at my side as my successor?"
"You didn't think so before," pointed out Valerian. "I heard what you said about me. You called me bookish, effeminate, and weak."
"Words spoken in anger long ago," said Arcturus, dismissing the hurt his words had done with a wave of the hand." But look at you now! You have done me proud, boy. And I'm impressed: I can't pretend I'm not. You have achieved a lot since I saw you last."
"I didn't do it for you, Father," he said. "I did it for me."
"I know that, and that's good. A man should never do anything to impress others: he must always do things on his own and for his own sense of validation."
"And what if I don't want to your successor?" said Valerian. "You've been controlling my life from afar for so long now. I think you've gotten used to the idea that I'll always jump at your command. Well, I'm not like that, Father. I am my own man and I make my own decisions."