Unknown

The army fosters technology, and technology breeds anarchy because it distributes the terrible machines of destruction. Even before this Jihad, one man alone could create and apply enough violence to ravage an entire planet. It happened! Why do you think the computer became anathema?

As their numbers dwindled, the surviving cymeks saw their conspiracy against Omnius fading. The chances for success and a bright new Time of Titans dimmed with each passing year. Twenty of the original conquerors had joined forces to overthrow the Old Empire, but after losing Ajax, Barbarossa, Alexander, Tamerlane, Tlaloc, and all the others, only four remained.

At times, Agamemnon had considered simply destroying all of the parasite watcheyes and fleeing into space, never to return. He could take his lover Juno with him and Dante— perhaps even the dolt Xerxes. They could set up an empire of their own far from the oppressive evermind.

The cymek general doubted Omnius would bother to hunt them down, and the evermind certainly could not grasp the concept of revenge, but Agamemnon and his comrades had been Titans, exalted conquerors of the Old Empire. If they fled into darkness— a quartet of survivors ruling nothing— that would be a more shameful defeat than their outright destruction. No, Agamemnon wanted to conquer the Synchronized Worlds for himself. He would settle for nothing less than total domination.

Returning from their assignments and depredations, stamping out flickers of rebellion that continued to flare into bonfires on random Synchronized Worlds, he and his fellow Titans held a meeting in the wilderness of deep space.

Agamemnon had hoped for a secret gathering, since he had rarely been able to orchestrate his plans under the constant scrutiny of Omnius’s watcheyes, whether they were fixed or mobile units. But this time he, Juno, Dante, and Xerxes were joined by the relative newcomer Beowulf, and Beowulf had not been able to shake his surveillance. They would have to be especially careful.

Agamemnon had always been slow to trust anyone, even another cymek who had endured for centuries. The Titans must always be cautious. Still, the general was intrigued by Beowulf’s audacity.

Their ships linked up in deep space, and their hatches joined to form a cluster of artificial craft like a geometrical space station in an empty void far from any solar system. Stars sparkled like jewels all around them in the vastness of the cosmos. The middle of nowhere.

Installing his preservation canister into a small, resilient walker form, Agamemnon scuttled out of his ship and through the hatchway connected to Juno’s vessel. The two of them strode side by side on limber segmented legs into the central vessel. Dante entered from the opposite side.

Standing beside Beowulf’s walker-form, Xerxes was already there, on leave from his orgy of mayhem on Ix. Xerxes seemed agitated or perhaps eager, but Agamemnon was accustomed to the weak-willed Titan overreacting under most circumstances. The sooner Xerxes returned to Ix, the happier Agamemnon would be.

Overhead, lenses gleamed on hovering mobile watcheyes, recording every moment. Agamemnon chafed under the constant surveillance, as he had for the past eleven centuries.

“Hail to Lord Omnius,” he said, sounding bored at the formal beginning of their meeting. His words were spoken with no particular enthusiasm. The computer evermind did not know how to interpret inflections of voice.

“On the contrary,” Beowulf said boldly, “curses upon Omnius! May the evermind wither and the Synchronized Worlds fall into ruin until cymeks rule again.”

Astonished, Juno reared back in her crablike body, though she harbored the same thoughts herself. The watcheyes glimmered down at them, and Agamemnon wondered what punishment Omnius would devise for the cymeks once the recordings were analyzed. The cymeks could not simply destroy the watcheyes before they reported to the evermind, or that would tip their hand and set back their plans, which were already centuries in the making.

Thanks to Barbarossa’s ancient programming restrictions, the evermind could not kill any of the original Twenty Titans. However, as a mere neocymek, brash young Beowulf had no such protection. Despite his vulnerability, he had just called down a death sentence upon himself.

Xerxes could not contain his glee. “You have done it then, Beowulf? You’ve achieved success after all this time?”

“The reprogramming was straightforward enough. The real trick was to do it in such a way that Omnius would never suspect.” With a segmented limb, he gestured toward the floating spherical lenses. “These watcheyes are diligently recording a completely artificial version of our meeting, an innocuous discussion of the human rebels. Omnius will be satisfied— and we can speak those thoughts that must be aired.”

“Wait and listen,” he answered, remaining motionless. His optic threads glimmered in the direction of Beowulf.

“I put him up to this, Agamemnon,” Xerxes said with pride. “Beowulf hates Omnius as much as we do, and he’s been under the evermind’s control for nearly as long as we have. I believe his skill can bring much to our plans. Now, at last, we have a chance.”

Agamemnon could barely contain his outrage. “You have plotted against Omnius, and now you attempt to implicate us? Xerxes, you are more of a fool than even I suspected. Do you mean to destroy us all?”

“No, no, Agamemnon. Beowulf is a programming genius, just like Barbarossa was. He’s found a way to create an instructional loop that places false recordings into the watcheyes. Now we can meet whenever we wish, and Omnius will never know the difference.”

Beowulf twitched his mechanical legs and took two steps forward. “General Agamemnon, I trained under your friend Barbarossa. He taught me how to manipulate the thinking machines, and I have continued to study secretly for centuries. I had hoped the Titans were chafing under the evermind’s rule, as I have been… but I was not certain until Xerxes approached me.”

But Dante, ever logical, ever methodical, pointed out the obvious. “The four of us are too few to accomplish what must be done. If more cymeks join our ranks, we have a better chance against Omnius.”

Even Juno agreed. “We need fresh blood, my love. Unless we recruit new conspirators, we will spend another millennium talking and complaining… those of us who survive. With Beowulf’s help, we can at last move forward. By planning openly and frequently, we will achieve more in a few months than we have been able to accomplish in decades.”

Still anxious, Xerxes said, “If we take no risks, we are no better than the apathetic humans who wallowed in the excesses of the Old Empire.”

Beowulf waited for judgment to be passed on his inclusion in the conspiracy. Agamemnon admitted to himself that, of all the neo-cymeks, Beowulf would have been his first choice.

Despite his annoyance with the unilateral behavior of Xerxes, the general could not convince himself to refuse the offer. Finally he said, “Very well. This gives us the breathing room we need, the chance to move our plans forward.” He swiveled his head turret, scanning Juno, Dante, Xerxes, and finally the expectant Beowulf. “Working together, we shall bring about the fall of Omnius. At last, the waiting is over.”