Galois closed his eyes, praying for the strength to betray his only and greatest friend. “I love Uther,” he breathed into her floral scented hair. He clutched her as though she were his life preserver in a great ocean beaten by a storm. “We are like brothers. I am all he has left in that sense.”
“And he has pushed you away,” she said. “I love him too. If it were not for him, we never would have met. How I love him! But Camelot is ours. Our first duty is to her and her people. Uther is not her king.”
Galois gazed instantly into her eyes as she said this. His heart slammed into his ribs with a new fear as realization dawned.
“He will be,” he gasped. “Uther wants to be king. He said I was committing treason. I cannot be because he’s not king. He will fight Vortigern and make himself a king over Camelot. That’s not what his father wanted.” He ran to his glossy desk and took up his uniform and put it back on quickly.
“Constantine wanted a government; a democracy! Uther will kill that dream to have his revenge. He means to be lord of this planet. I cannot let that happen.”
He ran to the door of the room, punched in the security code and called for a few soldiers as back up.
“Galois, my love,” Igrain called. She didn’t move to her com-unit or for her own weapons and uniform. “Try to stop him without killing him. Warn Vortigern, if you must. And please stay safe.”
“I will do what I must, Igrain.”
“Go to him first, please.” Her eyes were dark in the light of the moon. “Please.”
“You are not coming? My tactical and cunning wife?” He almost smiled again.
Igrain wrapped her arms slowly around herself. “No. Not this time.”
The soldiers were waiting outside the door already. Galois nodded, strapped on his gun and ran out to stop Uther before things got out of control or went too far. There was no speed shuttle to take him, so he’d have to go in the slower transport between the planet and its moon. He prayed he arrived before sun up.
The slow swaying of the floating land masses lulled Igrain into a deep contemplation. She was almost asleep while standing when a communication buzzed through her master control desk. Panting at her ill alertness, she looked down at the screen on the top of the desk to see where it came from. A single word: Cantus.
Curious, she flipped open the three-dimensional map of their new solar system and its twelve planets to search for it. The communication still rang in her ear as she looked. Strangely enough, she couldn’t find it. Now she had to wonder if it came from outside of the solar system. If that were true, it would have to be a strong signal indeed. But her questions got the better of her.
“Hello, this is Lothian, second moon of Camelot. Identify, please?”
The answer was a rumbling sound punctuated with cracks and hisses every once in a while, like an angry fire. Like a huge, roaring fire.
“Hello? Are you in trouble? Send coordinates and we can assist you.” She waited. Perhaps someone had called the nearest station and then passed out? “Are you hurt?” she asked. Something was burning for sure.
At last, a voice came through. “Stay your sword, dragon, or you will be burned.”
“Excuse me?” she stuttered. “Dragon? Do you mean to speak to Uther Pendragon?”
But then the roaring, the voice, and the communication ended abruptly. Igrain switched hers off as well and stared at it as though expecting it to burst into flames. Taking a pistol and tying it to her hip, she walked out onto the balcony to look around. For some reason, it seemed plausible that the call came from close by and she thought she might be being watched. No such luck.
She put the gun away and sighed. Surveying the sky, she saw a large, red star that didn’t flicker. It had to be a planet, softly glowing, quiet and beautiful as though a civil war could never break out under its quiet light.
9
Blind
Uther was up early and prepared his uniform before the sun rose. He had decided to strike Vortigern before sunrise to keep the element of surprise on his side. So far, it had been too simple. He got prepped, debriefed, and in Excalibur before most of his troops were in their smaller Avamech. Merlin had assured him that his had been outfitted with the best frames, fuel, and weaponry they had available. When he brought this battle to an end, he planned to see to it that more advanced armors and weapons were in the making. And there was only one way to do that.
“Merlin, have the artillery Avamech follow me now and have the smaller ones with long-range weapons come after. Battalion leaders, do you copy?” he said into his headset.
They all confirmed one after the other. He flexed his toes and shoulders, feeling the power and weight of Excalibur inside his very muscles. This machine was amazing. He could scale mountains in moments and leap rivers. Camelot had just gotten a lot smaller and his reach longer.
“Sir, I’ve had the torque adjusted for the flight,” Merlin’s voice said. “You should be able to easily reach about 780 kilometers per hour in the air. However, flying takes more fuel and will drain your battery life faster.”
“What’s my running speed then?” he asked as he marched forward with his troupes.
“Roughly 270 kilometers per hour if you’re hovering, which I recommend for this stealth assault.” His voice showed no emotion. “The Avamech are quiet, but not undetectable. You have next to no cloaking,
