"Why didn't I go with them?" Jerry kept asking himself. He wasn't sure if this situation was better or worse than last year's fiasco. As horrifying as it was to get that phone call that Walter had driven off after drinking gallons of beer, at least he had an idea of where he was. Now Walter and Kara were missing, and all Jerry could find after hours of combing his farm was one of the rifles and a weird prop. It looked like a cracked skull mashed together with machines. Jerry had been trying to dismantle it in the living room for the last hour, hoping to find some clue about where it came from. He stopped when he discovered one of his rifle cartridges buried in it. Why was it on his farm? Why did his kids shoot it? What did it have to do with their disappearance?
"Yes, the two are legal adults, but they had no reason to leave. I was making them dinner!" Joanne argued with the police over the phone in the other room.
"Even if they left, Walter would have called us. He's a good boy!" her voice became more unsteady as Jerry entered the room.
"Yes, he had an incident at a party last year, but that was a one-time thing!" Joanne stopped to listen to the police, and her face reddened with each second.
"How dare you insist our son would run off with our guest to…do that! We haven't forbidden it, but I-we never had to talk about…that! They haven't shown any interest in each other like that. What I mean is-." Joanne kept stumbling over her words until Jerry pulled the phone out of her hand and hung it up.
"Joanne," he said calmly, doing his best to hide his frustration. "if they didn't help us the last five times we called them, they're not going to after the sixth."
"Then who else can we call? What else can we do?" Joanne was tearing up, which made Jerry cry as well.
"Jerry! You don't think another monster showed up?" she asked between sobs.
"No!" Jerry said without thinking. The idea had been brewing, but he didn't want to believe it could happen. Only two strange monsters appeared on his farm, two times after over a hundred years since his family owned this farm. Jerry thought back to the last few hours of him frantically running around, trying to look for any clues.
"I don't think so," Jerry added hesitantly. "I saw no footprints, dead animals, or broken farm equipment. The robot skull is new, but other than that, I didn't see anything else out of the ordinary."
Joanne didn't look at him and walked around him in a weary haze. Sensing what she would do, Jerry followed Joanne outside solemnly as if he were a pallbearer. He didn't know if she was mad at him, although he was furious at himself. When the two were outside in the dark, Joanne called for Walter and Kara again. Jerry stood silent, stopping her from collapsing but also holding onto her as if his life depended on it.
"Why didn't I go with them?" Jerry asked. "No. I should have gone out instead. I'm old but not feeble. I could still walk. They were in the middle of their game, so why didn't I just let them play? Whatever happened to them should have happened to an old, useless man like myself."
"Don't start. You're not useless, and you couldn't have known. It was a chore they'd done plenty of times. I would have asked them the same-" Joanne stopped abruptly as her misty eyes widened. Jerry felt her body grow cold and limp as Joanne pointed to the sky and gasped out panicked noises. When Jerry eventually looked at what she was pointing out, he had to fight the urge to faint.
A meteor was careening across the sky, leaving a flaming red streak that made it look like the sky was inflamed. Even after it had passed by, the trail still flickered on for another minute before dissipating, only for the meteor to return burning just as brightly and falling closer than it had before. It passed by the farm again before dipping somewhere in the south. The couple stood still, unsure what was coming next. For a moment, Jerry thought he heard a distant boom, followed by a crack, but he was tired and not in the right state of mind.
"Wherever Walter is, I hope he's asleep," Joanne said, squeezing Jerry's arm. "That would have terrified the poor boy."
"Yeah, no telling how he would react to that. At least he has Kara with him. She's street smart, so I'm sure they can find their way home as long as they're together."
Joanne nodded but looked back at the sky, expecting a second meteor to appear. "I hope that meteor didn't hit anyone."
"We've got enough to worry about. I'm sure we'll hear everything about it tomorrow."
There wasn't anything else for the couple to do. They walked each other back to their bedroom, where they passed out on their worn-out bed. Still in their day clothes, raw from the stress, and nowhere closer to finding their kids.
Jerry woke up hours later. His first instinct was to check on Joanne, who was mumbling in her sleep. She had twisted and rolled in her sleep so Jerry could get up and walk around without waking her. Tip-toeing out of the bedroom, he checked on Walter and Kara's room, hoping they had returned, only to find untouched beds. He expected that but still felt a weight pressing down on his heart. Before he left, Jerry made sure to leave the doors in the same position he had found them so as not to give Joanne the same false hope he had. Walking downstairs, he tried thinking of more hopeful scenarios for where Walter and Kara had gone but stopped once he reached the living room. On one table was the Consortium game Walter and Kara had left. All its pieces were still in place, waiting for their players to return. Sitting right next to them was the shattered skull machine.
The sight broke Jerry all over again, and he ran to the telephone. He dialed the police, despite his dismissal of them the other night, and waited for a response. If they thought his wife was scary when angry, they hadn't seen anything yet! Despite all the insults and threats Jerry thought of, no one picked up. On the other end of the line came a series of loud beeps, indicating a busy signal. Jerry hung up and tried again, only to hear the same beeps. He waited an hour before giving up, but not without feeling disturbed. In all his years, the police had never missed a call. Looking out one of the windows, Jerry couldn't see any storm clouds, and the distant telephone poles were still standing, so he ruled out connection problems. Just to be sure, Jerry turned on the child-sized box radio sitting next to his sofa.
"Riots continue throughout the city as panic spreads-"
Jerry flicked to the next channel. He wasn't familiar with that one, so it must have been some world news broadcast Joanne or Walter listened to earlier yesterday. Jerry just needed to find a local station.
"At 3:00 AM, a large, unidentified object was spotted over-"
Jerry switched to the next channel. He wasn't in the mood for conspiracy theories.
"After violent protest this morning, President Folke Winthers has gone into hiding after his controversial missile launch was leaked to the public-"
He switched to the next channel.
"Tomorrow there's a high chance of temperatures reaching-I-I can't do this. I don't know if we'll even have a planet tomorrow. I'm going home to my family."
Then the next.
"01000010 01100101 00100000 01101110 01101111 01110100 00100000 01100001 01100110 01110010 01100001 01101001 01100100 00101110-"
"An unknown source is hacking our sister news station. All attempts to stop the channel from broadcasting or identify the hacker have failed. In other news-"
"The day of reckoning is upon us. Welcome the creator and destroyer with open arms. We shall-"
"-welcome the captain, referred to as Belvedere Van Romulius, who is planning to visit the capital of the Mainland. Despite last night's display of force, Romulius states he only has peaceful intentions."
Jerry turned the radio off as soon as he noticed Joanne walk downstairs. He hoped to spare her more stress, but the crazed look in her eyes proved she had heard enough.
"Has the whole world gone mad?" she asked.
Jerry was about to comment on how this must have been an elaborate media stunt when someone knocked at their front door. The couple almost fell over each other as they raced to the door, hoping Walter and Kara had returned home. Jerry swung the door open but screamed in horror as his new visitor played trumpet music from his stomach.
The visitor looked like a zombie in a horror movie, only except for exposed bones and gore. He had wires and metal parts sticking out from his flesh. His hands were replaced with metal pinchers, a stereo was built into his chest, and metal plates and glass visors covered every part of his head above his top jaw. Jerry stretched an arm across Joanne protectively and pushed her back.
"Name confirmation," the cybernetic man stained out.
"Who are you?" Jerry shouted.
The cybernetic man let out a pained moan. "Not registered. Need name confirmation."
Not wanting to fight a man with metal claws and hoping he would go away, Jerry caved. "Alfredson. I'm Jerry Alfredson, and this is my wife."
"You don't sound well, sir. Do you need help?" Joanne asked.
The man let out another moan as a beam of green light shot out from his visor. A hologram of a pretty young woman appeared before them and bowed.
"Greetings, Alfredsons," the hologram said through the cyborg's speakers. "My name is Aphrodite Van Romulius. Your charges, Walter and Kara, are safe on my family's starship. Once your planet confederates to the Imperium, we can reunite you. Until then, please accept this servitor as a gift and an apology for any concerns Walter and Kara's departure may have caused. It was an accident, but one that I'm sure will lead to a bountiful future for all of us. Praise the Emperor!"
The hologram ended and the cyborg, or rather, servitor, stood there blankly.
"Did…she say starship?" Jerry asked.
"Walter and Kara are with her?" Joanne added.
"Did she just give us a slave?" Jerry looked at the servitor. "What more do you know about this?" he asked it.
"Order not recognized."
"What is your name?"
"Servitor 1031."
"Where did you come from?"
"Archmagos Talos manufactured this unit in the Titanborn, a universe class mass conveyor starship."
"Can you take us to where Walter and Kara are?"
"Order not recognized."
"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Jerry screamed as he tried to push the stranger out of his doorway. "I need to know who the hell sent you and where you're holding my son. Get the hell out of the way!"
The stranger recognized that order and stepped back. Jerry almost fell over, but Joanne caught him by the arm as he stumbled out the front door. Servitor 1031 did not acknowledge them as he walked off the front porch and pointed to the sky. High above the clouds, barely visible to the naked eye, was what looked like a toy aircraft carrier. Jerry would have assumed it was just another cloud, yet he could see it gradually growing as it descended from the heavens, as small ships scattered around it like a swarm around a hive.
The Imperium of Mankind had many horrible things, and its citizens did not fill Kara with confidence. However, the one thing they did have right was their beds. After her interrogation by Abigail, Aphrodite brought Kara to the officer's quarters. She was allowed to use one of the spare bed chambers to rest for the night. Sleeping seemed impossible after seeing floating skulls, psychic inquisitors, fanatical spacemen, orbital cannons, a giant superhuman, and her best friend shot. But the instant Kara's skin made contact with the bed, it molded around her and adjusted its temperature and sturdiness to just the right level that would put anyone to sleep. She didn't know what was behind such a device, but from what she had gathered about the Imperium, it was probably better not to ask.
Kara was awoken the following day by a servo-skull carrying a breakfast tray for her. It disturbed Kara how accustomed she had become towards servo-skulls as she eagerly grabbed her tray and thanked the skull as it floated away. Like many things on this ship, the food was familiar yet alien. There was a thick steak with traces of scales, purple clumps of some sponge-like growth, and an egg the size of a melon. The egg was cracked in half and presented to her like two bowls of cereal. At least there was a glass of water.
Despite the oddities, Kara wasted no time in devouring it. She expected it to taste awful, but like the bed, everything seemed just right for her. Kara only left one of the strange sponge things (which had a savory umami flavor), as she wanted Walter to try some if he was still alive. She didn't want to wait for another stranger to drag her around the ship, and she wouldn't believe Walter was safe until she saw for herself.
Aphrodite arrived soon after Kara had finished. Her hair was tucked in buns, and she wore a golden nightgown that resembled a long dress. Servo-skulls trailed behind her, carrying similar pajamas that were all Kara's size.
"Good morning, Kara. Did you enjoy the grox meat? Do you even have grox on your planet?"
"I don't know what a grox is," Kara answered, swatting away a servo-skull approaching her. "Where's Walter?"
"Huh? Oh, the eldar! Yes, I received the medical reports. He's made a full recovery, and last I check, he's been chatting all night with the ship's other eldar."
"Wait, you have another eldar?"
"Yes. I'm told she's a tired old thing that doesn't do much these days, so I imagine she likes having the company of another eldar."
Kara had to think about that comment for a moment. She wanted to write off all these people as lunatics, but hearing there was another eldar made the reality sink in. Walter, her best friend, the man who saved her from the dog monster, wasn't a human. His abilities and mental state were truly alien. It was strange but somehow comforting. Walter being an alien, xeno, eldar, or whatever, explained all his quirks, even his height and ears. However, that didn't change the fact that Walter was still the nicest man she knew, and alien or not, he was more human to her than anyone else on this ship. Kara wouldn't mind meeting another eldar.
"Can I please go see Walter now?" she asked.
Aphrodite's smile faded as she rocked back and forth on her heels. Kara knew the answer was no, but she would get an overly complicated reason as to why.
"So-normally, xenos stay in the lowest decks. Father says everyone is happier that way."
Kara had to stop herself from laughing. Aphrodite was a bit older than her, but listening to her was like having a toddler lecture you. Still, this was the closest thing Kara had to an ally, as she might have saved her from Abigail, unintentionally or not.
"Okay, but we can visit him? You are the captain's daughter. Shouldn't you be allowed to take me to Walter? I'm sure seeing me will make him even happier."
"Well, I don't know. Walter might be a friendly xeno, but Father tells me we have a lot of others who are rather unpleasant. That's why they're not allowed to leave the lowest decks. I can have Father bring us Walter, but he's busy at the moment…"
"Think of it this way," Kara interrupted. "Everyone on Malcula thinks Walter is a human. I'm still struggling with the fact that he is not. Your father only saved Walter because I pointed that out to him. Now I get the Imperium doesn't like xenos, and I'm sure the people of Malcula will learn to hate them too, but Walter is a prized student, athlete, and farmer. A few people will notice if I go missing, but a lot of people will care about what happens to Walter."
Kara watched Aphrodite for any change in expression, hoping she was convincing her. She found Aphrodite one of the hardest people to read, as her face seemed permanently stuck to look like a confused airhead. Then again, according to the Inquisitor, Aphrodite was close to being a blank, so maybe that was affecting Kara's abilities. Regardless, Aphrodite was still unsure, so Kara needed to push more. She loved her dad, that much was clear, so Kara decided to learn into that.
"I know Belvedere thinks he can use me to make the people of Malcula like him, but that will only work if Walter is safe and with me. You can help with that. You can make your dad's job easier. That way, we can all stick it to Abigail for being rude."
At the mention of opposing Abigail, Aphrodite beamed and hopped around. "Yes, yes, this is just what I wanted. I'll dress you up like a noble and show you the best of the Imperium. It's a real-life rags-to-riches story. We'll present you to your world, and everyone will want to join the Imperium."
Kara had to bite her tongue at the rags-to-riches comment. "I'll only help if you bring me Walter."
Aphrodite stopped her dancing when Kara reminded her of Walter. "Right! Yes, I'll assemble a squad to retrieve Walter right away. Father and his advisors will be so proud of me. And to think they didn't think you were worth saving."
"Wait. What was that last part?"
"Goodness, I'm still in my sleeping garments. Pick a dress that suits you, Kara. I'll be back in a moment."
"Wait, Aphrodite!"
It was no use. Aphrodite was in her own world and dashed out of the room, talking to herself about what she would wear. By the time Kara threw off her covers, Aphrodite had disappeared into the hallways, leaving Kara with only servo-skulls. The bedroom lost any comfort it had as Kara kept imagining Corwin or Abigail coming in any moment and blasting her head off. It didn't have to be them if what Aphrodite said was true. She was a strange homeless girl yet again, and no one would care if a homeless girl were to disappear. Aphrodite's fascination didn't even strike Kara as genuine, but rather like that of a child with a new toy, and children often grew bored of toys. What would happen to Kara and Walter once Aphrodite grew bored of them?
Minutes crept away like hours, and all the while, Kara felt more agitated. The distant echoes of hums, hymns, and distorted screams became more horrific as Kara realized this was likely normal in the Imperium. She tried counting down the time that passed but stopped at around 150 seconds when she heard a loud thud that she mistook for a space marine's footsteps.
"Hey, can you take me to Walter?" Kara asked the servo-skull holding her empty plates.
It looked at her blankly.
"Can you take me to Aphrodite? I don't feel safe here."
The servo-skull spun around and hovered out the automatic door. Not knowing where else to go, Kara followed the skull, hoping that if someone tried to bother her, she could lie and say she was ordered to follow it. The best-case scenario is that it could lead her to one of the Romuliuses, Walter, a map of the ship, or even better, an automatic aircraft that could get her and Walter away from this nightmare. Worst case, she would at least get a better idea of what was in the starship. She tried not to imagine what would happen if she ran into anyone who wanted her dead.
Walking through the officer's quarters, Kara noted how much more refined and spacious they were than the cramp and metallic landing bay. The floors, walls, and ceiling were made of marble, with chandeliers in every hallway being tended to by servo-skulls. Portraits and artifacts from various worlds were displayed, including everything from jeweled ceremonial weapons, sculptures, vases, and taxidermy animals- at least, that's what Kara hoped they were. Knowing the Imperium's views on xenos, those could have been intelligent beings with family and friends that Belvedere had shot. Thankfully, none looked like an eldar.
One that caught Kara's attention was a hulking creature with a blue and red exoskeleton and scythe-like arms. It wouldn't be out of place on Malcula except for the tendrils that made up its mouth. Beneath it was a golden plaque.
Tyranicus chameleo - Tyranid Lictor. Killed on the Forge World of Arcetri by Lanto Van Romulius.
Despite her curiosity about this creature, she had to keep up with the breakfast servo-skull. She passed a few crew members walking around the ship. Word might have spread about her, as Kara noticed a few muttering to one another and looking in her direction. Did they know of her encounter with Abigail? Had they learned she was a psyker? How many of them want her dead or would be indifferent if she were stabbed in front of them? A few had metallic implants throughout their body, but those didn't even look in Kara's direction. One had bristles for feet and a mop attached to its arms. It breathlessly cleaned the floors before tripping. Despite her better judgment, she ran over to help it get back on its feet.
"Are you okay?" Kara asked.
The cleaning man only moaned, its mouth obscured by filters and breathing regulators.
"Damn it, cleaner 101 is malfunctioning again," Kara overheard an onlooker say.
"He's been stumbling for a while now," another worker added. "I think Talos should just recycle what's left of him. The lower desks just above the xenos are filled with criminals he can repurpose."
Kara looked back at the cyborg cleaner before dropping him and running after the servo-skull. She cussed repeatedly to herself as she tried to fathom how an empire touting the superiority of humans could do this to their own. When Kara reached the servo-skull, she pushed it forward.
"Can't you fly any faster? Get me out of here!"
The servo-skull fluttered at a sluggish pass until it reached another automatic door. An emblem of a half-cybernetic skull in front of a gear was engraved on the steel door, which opened up to let Kara and the servo-skull inside. Kara wished she hadn't followed as the room reeked of oil. It reminded her too much of her father, her real father. He had been an engineer who loved working on other people's cars. Many nights, he would come home coated in the stuff. Before he died, life at home wasn't so bad. Kara wiped away a tear as she examined the new room.
It was a macabre hybrid of a cathedral and workshop. Crimson banners hung on the walls, along with shelves of mechanical parts, censers of various metals, and partially melted wax candles. Wires and cables were sprawled out all over the floor and ceiling like webs. At the back of the room was a golden pedestal with a silvery block resting on top. A light had been positioned to shine a column over the block, giving it a heavenly glow.
The servo-skull lowered itself onto a table with several others before its eyes stopped glowing. Kara figured it was never purposefully leading her and that she had misunderstood its actions. She turned to leave until she heard a high-pitched ding like a bell coming from the object on the golden pedestal. A strong, burning scent started to overpower everything else in the room. It wasn't like a fried circuit or a machine breaking, but rather a familiar flavor that triggered Kara's appetite. Curiosity won over, and she went back to investigate. The silvery block, displayed on a purple pillow as if it were a king's crown, was nothing more than a toaster with a slice of overcooked toast.
Kara laughed for the first time since arriving on the Titanborn, and it was not out of nervousness but of genuine amusement. How could one not find it funny that something as mundane as a toaster was being venerated in a horrific place like this? Once she had finished laughing, she pulled out the toast. It didn't matter that she had a full breakfast; she was in a strange place away from her only friend and had learned years ago never to waste food. The toaster must have had one of those gimmicky heaters that burnt poorly made images into the bread. Back on Malcula, Kara had seen some that made smiling faces (in reality, just black scorch marks), but this one was more advanced. The toast had a thin circle in the center of it, with eight arrows running through it. Even though the design was cool, it was still severely burnt, and something about the symbol gave Kara a headache just from looking at it.
"Observation: You have disturbed the prophet," A distorted, robotic voice announced from behind Kara.
"What?" Kara barely said above a whisper as she turned around. She screamed as she saw a being made of wires and random parts welded together into the rough outline of a man in a large red hood. This was a far cry from the cybernetic workers she had seen earlier, as nothing organic was visible on this man. Kara dropped the toast and tried to run away, crushing the toast into crumbs. She didn't get far as the machine man grabbed her arm with one of his metal claws and lifted her.
"Reprimand: You have disturbed the prophet! An ancient machine spirit that has seen the rise and fall of the Age of Technology and survived the Age of Strife! It has witnessed tens of thousands of years worth of the failing of flesh and must never be touched by the impure! And now you have also destroyed its sacred message it has been preparing."
"I'm sorry! I thought it was a toaster!" Kara said, confused.
"Scanning: Identification not found. Review: Only sanctioned members of Adeptus Mechanicus may approach the prophet! Threat: For violating Titanborn laws, failing to have Imperium identification, defiling a holy relic, and speaking blasphemy to a magos, you are sentenced to servitor conversion!"
The stranger extended four additional mechanical arms from his back, pushing through his red robe. One had a drill revved up as he lowered it toward Kara's forehead.
"It's just a toaster!" Kara cried out again but couldn't hear her voice over the drill. As it drew inches away from her, the room door opened again. Aphrodite skipped into the room wearing a pink and violet frilled dress embellished with golden embroidery that matched the gold ribbons in her hair.
"Kara, I was looking for you. I see you've become acquainted with Archmagos Talos. Good morning, Talos," Aphrodite waved. "Goodness, is everything alright here?"
Talos stopped his drill and retracted his arms. His most prominent green eye was focused on her, but smaller eyes opened up on his head and turned towards Aphrodite.
"Inquiry: You are familiar with this infidel?" Talos asked, his volume significantly reduced.
"Aphrodite, he was threatening me over a toaster!" Kara yelled as she fought to free herself from Talos.
"Talos, this is the girl father wanted to save from Abigail. You left before we discussed that. Well, I recovered her from Abigail's interrogation and wished to have her help us bring Malcula into the Imperium peacefully. You must forgive her for not knowing about the laws of the Titanborn, much less of the Adeptus Mechanicus."
"Reflection: Kara's actions now make sense. Servitor conversion would be drastic, especially given her value as an ambassador. However, much work is needed to appease the prophet."
"You would know best, Archmagos. Would it help if we joined you in prayer?"
"You may, but please do so from a distance. The presence of flesh distresses the ancient one. Do not attempt to speak the prophet's language; any mistake will be disastrous."
When Talos let go of Kara, she immediately ran towards the door but stopped once it opened up, and she looked down the labyrinthian that was the Titanborn. Not wanting to wander into the wrong room again, she sulked back to Aphrodite, who was near the room's entrance. Aphrodite sat down on her knees, doing her best to avoid the wires, and Kara followed suit, hoping to appease Talos, who was currently on the top of Kara's list of craziest people on this ship. Talos's mechanical eye extended to look behind him and did not retract until both women were in prayer positions. The Archmagos then began chanting binary codes at a rapid pace. To Kara's relief, Aphrodite didn't even try to repeat the sequence and just spoke the code's translation. However, Kara couldn't be sure if it was entirely accurate or if Aphrodite added parts.
"To the Machine God, creator of all technology, forgive this child for falling short of your grand plan. Let the machine spirit inside your wise prophet return to us and guide us with your wisdom. To the Motive Force, sustain humanity until we may regain our lost greatness. To the Omnissiah, the Machine God in human form, the God Emperor, bridge the gap between man and machine."
When the prayer was finished, Talos retrieved a chrome censer, lit it, and started walking in circles around the toaster, repeating the same binary stream.
"What is going on here?" Kara asked Aphrodite.
Aphrodite tilted her head at Kara. She looked at Kara puzzledly until something clicked for her. "Ah, I almost forgot your world wouldn't have or know of tech-priests. They are essential to the Imperium."
"Yes, because what could we do without toast!"
Kara covered her mouth, afraid she had offended her only ally. But to her great relief, Aphrodite giggled and tried to hide it from Talos.
"Yes, well, Talos is rather eccentric, even by the standards of his order, but he is talented. You see, much technology was lost during the Age of Strife. Thanks to tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus, humanity recovered from that dreadful time."
Kara looked back to Talos, who was now carefully applying oil over the toaster. She thought about Aphrodite's prayer and all the talk of a God Emperor in the Imperium, and something wasn't making sense.
"So, does the Imperium believe in a Machine God?" Kara asked. "When Belvedere took me on the ship, he told me the God Emperor was the only god. Which is it?"
Aphrodite glanced back at Talos and swayed her head as she hummed to herself before answering.
"Well, the God Emperor is the only god, but he's a god, so he takes many different forms. The Adeptus Mechanicus believes he is the human embodiment of machines. Or something like that. I must apologize to you, Kara. I don't know much about the Adeptus Mechanicus, as they keep much of their history and ways to themselves. But rest assured they are loyal to the Imperium and are beyond all our technological achievements."
Kara cringed. "Does that include the servitors and servo-skulls?"
"Why yes," Aphrodite answered. "He even agreed to send one of our ship's best servitors to the Alfredsons."
"Why? Aphrodite, I asked you to send a person to deliver the message, not a creepy robot zombie."
Aphrodite looked like a kicked puppy as she tried to hold back tears. Kara didn't think she was that loud to her, but even if she was, she didn't care right now. How would the poor Alfredsons react to seeing a servitor?
"I'm sorry, Kara, I thought I was being generous. Hopefully, they'll appreciate having a servitor around to do their choirs."
"Why don't you just build robots?" Kara asked. "You have spaceships, and Malcula isn't that advanced, but we have computers, so why can't the Imperium just make an actual machine to do work instead of hooking up wires to people."
At this, Talos stopped his rituals. "Explanation: What you are describing Kara is Abominable Intelligence. These machines inflicted countless atrocities on humans during the Dark Age of Technology. Servitors are safer, for they are the condemned who have had their minds stripped down to only the essentials needed to serve the Imperium."
Kara felt like throwing up as she realized that had Aphrodite not stepped in, she would have been lobotomized. Every other room in this ship had some new type of horror. She didn't care what she had to say so long as she could get off this ship with Walter as soon as possible. Unfortunately, with no other friends on the spaceship, Kara would have to play the part of Aphrodite's doll.
"Sorry for shouting earlier. Thank you for all you've done, Lady Aphrodite. I think I'd like to try some of those dresses earlier."
Aphrodite grabbed Kara's wrist and dragged her out of the room, gushing about various worlds and fashion styles she wanted to put Kara into. The last thing Kara saw before leaving the tech-priest's room was Talos scooping up the toast crumbs and trying to reassemble them.
Why did I wonder? Why did I have to talk to Belvedere? Why couldn't he just live like a human?
Walter's chest tightened as he relived watching the Titanborn's nova cannon strike his homeworld. Even that most frozen, desolated part of his home was still an irreplaceable treasure. Entire ecosystems were destroyed, and hundreds of species were rendered extinct. Researchers stationed there would have vaporized by nothing they could have foreseen. Word would travel across Malcula, killing thousands who could not bear the grief and fear of the impending force of the Imperium. Many would join the dead as rioters burned cities out of hate or love for the ship that, to them, seemed like a divine tool. Walter had no way of knowing this, yet the more he thought about it, the more real and intense it felt. If he concentrated, he could see all over Malcula as if he were standing in the middle of the chaos. Countless minds shattered and lives broken from a single shot.
The worst part was not knowing if this was due to being an eldar, or if he really did suffer from a mixture of mental disorders. Could both be possible?
"Walter, are you okay?" Isidore asked Walter for what was likely the hundredth time.
"Where are we right now?" Walter asked, looking around as his vision kept switching between what was and what could be. He wasn't even sure who he was talking to.
"You're in a starship called the Titanborn. I'm your friend, Isidore. I'm taking you to see Gran so she can help you out."
As Isidore repeated his answer calmly, Walter focused on everything real around him: Isidore's furry hand gripping his arm, the awful spell of the Titanborn's lowest decks, and the silent ticking of Jerry's wristwatch. Isidore led Walter to a black metal door with locks and lifted bars attached to it. It reminded Walter of doors used to keep people in solitary confinement, but he had only seen that in movies.
"She's in there," Isidore answered.
"Is she…safe?" Walter asked. "She's not like DokChoppa or Alrok…is she?"
Isidore's palm and brow began to sweat, and his face twisted as he cobbled an answer.
"She is only dangerous when she needs to be. Although I think it would be best if I waited outside."
Walter couldn't remember if he had other questions or if he hesitated, as the next lucid memory he had was standing inside the room behind the metal door. The room was so small that if Walter and another eldar were laying down straight on their backs, one in front of the other, they could touch the room walls. A torn-up cot was the only form of bedding in the room. At the back of the room was a chair resembling spears and black thorny vines wrapped around the skulls and bones of alien creatures. Sitting on that chair was an ancient corpse.
There was no mistaking it for anything other than an eldar. It had Walter's pointy ears and slender build, but it had withered away to the point it looked like its bones would pierce its nearly translucent wrinkly skin at any moment. Black tattoos were printed around the being's hallowed-out eyes, and thin grey webs of hair hung loosely from its scalp.
For a moment, Walter feared Isidore would lock the door behind him and leave Walter to rot away in this cell like this other Eldar until he saw one of its bony fingers twitch.
"Asuryani, Rillietann, Drukhari, Eshairr?" the being Walter once thought was a corpse said in a strained voice.
Walter fell into the wall in panic, knocking over several ornaments hung beside the bunk beds that Walter had previously missed. Various weapons and strange devices made Walter feel sicker the longer he looked at them. The mummy let out a cackle as Walter squirmed and fidgeted, fighting with himself to stay inside the room.
"I'm sorry. I can't understand you," he said, trying not to cry again.
The mummy's demeanor changed. Her mouth lowered into a frown, and she seemed to shrink in her chair.
"How do you not know the language of our people?" she struggled to speak each word, taking deep breaths between each one.
"Are you, Gran?" Walter asked, his fear having been replaced by sympathy.
"That is what the mon-keigh call me, although not without good reason. I am rather ancient." At that, Gran laughed again, which Walter found himself laughing at, too, if only because of the relief that he wasn't in danger. They only stopped when Gran had a violent coughing fit.
"Are you alright?" Walter asked.
"No, but that is fine. I'm more concerned with you! Come closer, let me get a look at you."
Walter did as he was told and even let her feel his face with her talon-like nails.
"You wear the clothes of the cresistauead, speak slowly like a child, and your movements are stifled. You should be at your prime, child. What has done this to you?"
"I'm sorry, but I don't know what cresistauead means. As for how I talk, most people say I talk too fast."
"Ah, I see now," Gran said with a playful smile. "You are among the Rillietann, the Harlequins. This is some joke or act you are performing. Very well, I'm old and dying and have seen enough. What is your business here?"
"A harlequin? You mean like a clown? Sorry, I'm not a clown."
"What?"
"While…maybe I am. I don't know. I was hoping you could help me."
Walter spent the next hours retelling his story to Gran. Several times, he was afraid she had passed away while listening, only to hear a labored breath escape her lips. She never interrupted him, letting him speak in detail until he reached the present.
"Well, I'm now convinced you aren't a Harlequin," Gran told him when he had finished. "They would have acted out the story and probably included some riddles, morality themes, and more references to Aeldari lore." She then snickered at her joke.
It was hard to describe, but Walter felt he understood the joke. He understood that the Rillietann, or Harlequins, were known for their over-the-top performances. Yet, if their people could live for so long and react much faster than humans, they would obviously take their art to heights humans could only dream of. Of course, he couldn't imagine what a Harlequin looked like or name one of their plays, but he had a sense that he had learned of them long ago. He laughed alongside Gran once again until she suffered another coughing attack.
"I can almost hear the gods taunting us," Gran groaned bitterly. "You've lost so much child and have been holding back your true potential. How those mon-keigh treated you…it may have been with good intentions, but they did more harm than good. It is a miracle you did not tear yourself to shreds years ago."
"What does mon-keigh mean?" Walter asked.
Gran held her head down, letting a string of mucus dangle from her lip-less mouth. "My apologies, it is an insulting word, used by our kind to describe less…advanced races. Cresistauead is a more proper word to describe humans, although it has rarely been used for the last millennia."
"But what do you mean by holding myself back? How were they hurting me?"
"Child, how you see and feel the world is natural for our kind, the Aeldari. We feel and sense the world much more intensely than humans do. Our people have ways of dealing with this, but to try and suppress it with mon-keigh drugs and blame your focus on deficiencies? Dear child, I don't think you could have survived much longer living amongst them."
"Then how do you deal with it? How have you lived for so long?"
"I don't deal with it, and I have lived far too long," Gran answered casually. "I was of the Drukhari, and we focused only on indulging feelings that brought us joy. Thoughts of mercy, empathy, fear, sadness, we buried these feelings to the point we forgot what they were. I lost myself to this mindset and did something unforgivable, so I am letting myself suffer the thirst until She Who Thirsts claims me."
At the mention of that name, Walter heard whispers in his ears and felt something claw at his back. Gran herself grasped her chest and recoiled in pain.
"Who is that?" Walter asked in a whisper as if they were in the room with them. "She's chased me in the past. They spoke to me when I was shot. What is she?"
"She is not just a she," Gran answered, tightening her clenched hand. "She can be a he, them, or anything and everything. They are excess and pleasure incarnate, the culmination of our ancestor's sins. You know her because she is tied to every eldar from the moment they are born. These storms that happen every year on your planet are windows into her realm. You are lucky to be alive. No more, child. I know you have more questions, but I do not have the strength. Let me rest. If She does not claim me, then I shall tell you more. If you take anything away from our meeting, remember this: you must never return to Malcula."
"Why? What about the Alfredsons? What did you mean by 'windows into her realm'? Will She attack them? Who is She Who Thirsts?"
Gran shivered at the name again, but the brief jolt of life in her faded away, leaving her as little more than the husk Walter had found her as. He sat in front of her, waiting for her to wake up. It was only now that the talking had stopped that Walter considered what sins Gran must have committed that would lead her to wish for a slow death. Suddenly, Belvedere shooting Walter no longer seemed like a rash action, and Walter thought back to how casually his kind used a slur like mon-keigh. For years, he wanted answers to his past, but now they were more trouble and vile than it was worth. He wanted nothing more than to return home, ignorant of all he had learned, and return to being a Cresistauead farm boy.
The door to the eldar room opened, and Isidore entered. He approached Walter and placed a hand on Walter's shoulder. Despite the friendly gesture, Walter couldn't help but notice he had a large gun in his other hand.
"Did everything go alright with Gran?" he asked. "You were talking to her all night- at least from your world's perspective."
"She was nice," was all Walter felt comfortable sharing. "Can I stay in case she wakes up soon?"
"I'm afraid not. Lady Aphrodite Van Romulius has requested your presence."
"It's not really a request, is it?"
"No, but she says it's to bring you back to your friend."
Walter excitedly ran past Isidore, only stopping for him once he realized he could not reach Kara without his help.