“How are they piloted?” he asked, growing impatient. “We need them for the imminent battle.”
At this, Vivian narrowed her eyes and frowned. “It is not written thus,” she said. She looked up and down the clear screens separating her and Uther where the battle strategy was playing out and statistics were being solved. “You are only half the army. Why do you fight Vortigern?”
Now he became frantic. “Listen, D.R.U.I.D, we have only hours—maybe—before Vortigern’s army is here. I simply want to defend what is mine. After Vortigern is neutralized, we can go over what needs to be done.”
“Our land,” Vivian said firmly. “The first Constantine promised us land. The mecha are ours. We are to receive part of this planet. Can you promise that after your victory?”
Uther paced away from her and Merlin, nervously pulling his hair back with both his hands. “Of course, I can. I just need the mecha now to defend us all.”
When he turned around, Vivian stared right at him with violet eyes. He couldn’t find any emotion in them. After all, she was mostly machine, right? How would she know if he upheld his end of the deal? Surely a way existed to shut them all down and just be rid of them if he needed to. Lot made the right choice to take Morgues to Lothian where they could start from scratch. No D.R.U.I.Ds.
“The mecha is a war machine like no other,” Vivian said at last. “Merlin knows this. He also knows what was written.” She reached up and touched the screen with one finger. Everything went blank and the moaning of the power grid dulled out. They were in near blackness. All the voices stopped talking at once.
“I will show you the mecha,” Vivian said.
In the huge hanger, Vivian led Uther, Merlin, and a group of soldiers of rank to the edge of the large open door used for freight ships and air craft carriers. Below them sparkled the lake they had nearly crashed in where Vivian had appeared and saved them with the mecha.
“The hanger that first was built sank into the lake,” she explained and pointed. “Underneath this great city of hovering buildings and floating gardens is the first city and the first base. The lake swallowed it up. The mecha still rest there at the bottom with the greatest one ever built being Excalibur.”
“That’s the one!” Uther said, excitedly. “Bring me that one and I shall find the rest easily if they are where you claim.”
Merlin stepped forward. “That mecha can only be piloted by the one who programmed it. It reads not the hands nor the voice of its pilot, but something deeper. Something only the blood of Constantine has.”
Uther looked back and forth between the D.R.U.I.Ds. “I am my father’s son. I am not Constans with his courage and mind, but I am of the same blood. If it is hemo-sensative, then I can pilot it.”
“That is only a mere part of the payment for piloting Excalibur,” Vivian said, a warning in her voice.
“Enough!” Uther barked at last. “Bring me Excalibur, D.R.U.I.D. Land it on those rocks there and I will meet you to take control. Merlin, with me.”
Uther took his men with him, crossing out of the hangar and to the large rock face near the fort where he waited for Vivian to bring him the great mecha.
“It doesn’t matter if it is hemo-sensative or not,” he said quietly to Merlin. “I have the blood and can pilot it.”
Merlin crossed his white arms, but did not look at his master as he spoke. “These mecha bind with the mind, Uther.” He did not address him properly and Uther felt the sting. “Once the flight helmet is attached to your head, the system accesses your cerebellum where you humans believe the soul is located. It then becomes you.”
Uther turned his head toward Merlin at this. “So, it’s some sort of a psychic connection?”
“You could say that,” Merlin sighed. “Here is your chance to find out what happens.”
The great white and silver mecha rose up out of the lake and drifted towards Uther and his troupe where they waited. With expert grace and management of the thrusters and rudders, Vivian sat the beautiful machine down upon the rocks and exited it from the front cockpit where the “face” should have been.
She vaulted from the shoulder to the mecha’s open palm as though it had been waiting for her, then down to the ground. Excalibur knelt, waiting for Uther to enter.
“Why do you hesitate?” Vivian smiled wickedly. “After all, if a machine can pilot a machine, surely the great heir of Constantine the First can do it.”
Thinking of Camelot, of Vortigern, and then of Igrain and how she had spoken of her dreams for Camelot, Uther marched toward the giant robot. It knelt down on one knee, its palm out and the cockpit still open as though it called to him. Mustering his lordly strength, he ascended a little shakily into the open space.
Inside, the mecha gleamed clean, but felt small. The cockpit was big enough for the one in the pilot’s seat and perhaps a tiny space for two to stand behind. The soft chair had two wings rising on the sides to protect the head from bouncing. There were also three belts to hold the pilot in. In the seat rested the helmet Merlin had mentioned.
Uther wondered what would happen once he put it on. What if the machine didn’t recognize him? What if it searched for something in his brain that only firstborns have? What if his mind couldn’t handle the task?
For Camelot.
He picked up the black helmet and shoved it onto his head. He now looked through a mirrored visor. When he sat down, the belts activated and held him in place firmly against the soft chair. In a flash, something stung his forehead, then a blinding light erupted into his eyes. His body went limp and he
