“I killed no one!” Uther shouted a little too quickly and too loudly. “Where are you from and what do you want with me?”
Hengist nodded his great horned head and reseated himself in his throne. He placed his hand on a large, round shield next to his throne. It was dented, burned, and looked as though blood had spattered on it. “But you did kill, Pendragon. My brother had come to Camelot to investigate you and this man Vortigern told us of your treachery. My brother took council from me and volunteered to supply Vortigern with any supplies he may need. During the negotiation, you attacked.”
Uther remembered the strange weapon Vortigern had shot at him with. It had been powerful enough to hit and slow Excalibur down. It must have been from these alien creatures and their fiery planet.
“I did not know your brother was in Vortigern’s palace.” Uther felt the need to stand to address this alien. “But if he was, know that you threw your lot in with the wrong man. Vortigern was a traitor and a murderer. He killed my brother. I understand your pain.”
A strange, deep, and guttural sound emitted from Hengist’s throat after Uther’s last statement and the court was astonished to realize the alien demon laughed as his shoulders began to quake.
“Uther Pendragon!” he shouted and the screens went black with static. “You know nothing of pain!”
Just as suddenly as everyone had vanished from the screens, they were back. An outrage of cries and questions pulverized Uther’s ears as every representative began to shout out for answers. Uther had none.
“Pellinore, you’ve lived in this solar system longer than we have, of course. Who was that?”
Closing his large black eyes, Pellinore looked pale. “That is Hengist of Cantus XII, a fire planet of poisonous gasses and industry. They are known for their ever-advancing manufactory. Their number, twelve, is a description of the number of revolutions they have had in this lifetime. No one understands their calendar. But for all their efforts into moving forward, they are a backwards people. They kill for the throne and have abandoned all morals and religion.”
Uther began to tremble. A frightening being had declared his hate for him and may have even threatened him and he didn’t know where to begin.
“Might I suggest banning your men and settlers from pursuing Cantus XII,” Pellinore said.
“Yes,” Uther said to the representatives present. “I will put out a system-wide ban on Cantus XII. Ector, get a note to Merlin and Nimueh about it and have Nimueh inform the other D.R.U.I.Ds. No one is to speak to them or come in any contact with Hengist or Cantus XII!”
***
Igrain was driven nearly mad over the next three days. Uther raged with the threat from Cantus XII and would not sit still to listen to reason, advice, or council from her. She didn’t matter now that military issues had to be taken into account. The threat to Camelot became more important and Camelot was Uther’s first love.
“I do not want you involved in this!” he shouted one morning when he had found her looking at astral maps and polishing her pistols. “Perhaps I shall send you away for safety. I cannot think with you near!”
“Uther, please,” Igrain tried to laugh it off. “I am only being prepared. You wouldn’t have me stranded if an attack came, would you?”
“I would be here to protect you, now go!” In a blinding anger, he waved the maps away and took her guns from the table then stormed out shouting something about a war meeting.
Waiting about four breaths before she moved, Igrain stomped to the window and looked out. The city’s edge below was out of her sight now. It seemed to go on all the way into the horizon. What had once been a ship had become a palace and city. Now the metropolis of Pendragon reached beyond normal sight. The flying vehicles were busily zooming around for jobs and pleasure now. Uther really had done it. He had made a new planet, settled, and established in less than a year. She wondered if this is what life had been like for her ancestors on Original Earth. She would never know. She was disconnected from the human race’s origins.
“Merlin,” she said into her wrist com-unit. “I am ready to depart when you are. Meet me in the hanger.”
***
“Thank you,” Igrain panted, taking Merlin’s offered hand as they made their way up that now-familiar slope to the mountain ridge where Excalibur lay trapped. “I feel so huge these days, I’m afraid to step on stairs sometimes.” She laughed.
“It is good to see you smile, Igrain,” Merlin said. “I cannot imagine how these last few days have been for you.”
“I’ll tell you if you don’t mind the ravings of an ex-soldier mixed with the ramblings of a woman with child.”
They broke over the last great climb and through the foliage to the great sight of the mecha, kneeling in the mountain. Flora growth covered parts of the mecha and small animals had made their homes in its hand and on its shoulders near its head.
“It almost looks sad,” she commented.
“Avalonian mecha are strange that way,” he explained. “There is something about them we do not understand. Something more Avalon and less tangible.”
Igrain looked at Merlin sideways and asked sadly, “Do you ever wonder about Avalon? About where you came from?”
He began to pick leaves off of the mecha’s fingers. “I don’t know. I don’t even know if I’ve ever seen it. Some D.R.U.I.Ds who are less Avalonian than others have memory implants taken from true Avalonians. I do not know if what is in my head is there from the microchips or from my life. I know things, but I cannot explain how I know
