“There.” Even as she said it, Donnchadh aimed the rifle.
About a hundred meters in front of her, an Airlia stood atop one of the strands, a hatch open in front of it. Donnchadh fired a burst, but her aim was low, the rounds ricocheting off the metal. The creature acted as if nothing had happened, continuing to do whatever it was focused on. Donnchadh pulled the trigger again, but the weapon was empty. In her haste she had forgotten to take extra ammunition from the body.
Gwalcmai didn’t hesitate, rushing past her toward the Airlia. Donnchadh followed, tossing aside the useless weapon and drawing the short black dagger with which she had originally been armed. A ladder was built into the side of the engine strand about halfway between them and the creature and Gwalcmai bounded up it, Donnchadh right behind. Once on top, they had to leap from strand to strand.
The Airlia glanced up and saw them coming. It was not dressed like one of the Airlia soldiers. It wore a white linen robe over which there was a sleeveless shirt of blue and on top of that a long cloak of many colors. The shoulders of the cloak were fastened with what appeared to be glittering stones. Over it was a breastplate covered with more precious stones. On the creature’s head was a crown consisting of three bands.
A gasp escaped Donnchadh’s lips as the Airlia lifted up a chalice-shaped golden object. “The Grail,” she cried out.
Gwalcmai needed no further urging. Every human on the planet knew it was their only hope. The Airlia’s lips were moving as if it were saying some sort of prayer. It set the Grail down on the metal in front of it and reached into the shoulders of the breastplate, removing two glowing stones.
Donnchadh and Gwalcmai were now within twenty meters of the creature. They could clearly see one end of the Grail iris open and the creature place a stone inside. It then flipped the Grail over and did the same on the other side.
Gwalcmai lifted his sword high as he leapt from the last strand to the one on which the Airlia stood. The alien was now holding the Grail out over the open hatch. Gwalcmai swung the sword even as he was still airborne, the blade horizontal, slicing through the Airlia’s neck. As the head toppled from the body, Donnchadh dived low from the last strand, hands outstretched, reaching for the Grail.
Even in the moment of final death, the Airlia’s body did its duty. Its fingers separated, letting go of the Grail. Donnchadh was a fraction of a second too late as the golden object tumbled down into the open hatch. She landed hard, almost falling into the opening herself.
She looked down. There was a pulsing stream of golden power about five meters below. She watched with wide eyes as the Grail hit the stream. There was a flash and the entire ship shook for several moments.
The Grail was gone.
The skin on Donnchadh’s face was red and blistered from the surge in power she had witnessed when the Grail was destroyed. She was in the control room of the mothership, the room filled with other God-killers and scientists. The sense of victory in killing the last of the Airlia was muted by the loss of the Grail, and many a glance was directed at her, accompanied by muttered words.
“It was my fault,” Gwalcmai said, loud enough to be heard not only by Donnchadh but by most in the control room. “I should not have struck as quickly.”
“If you had not, it would have dropped it anyway,” Donnchadh said. “I was too late in—”
A new voice cut him off. “It was no one’s fault.”
A wheelchair-bound woman in a black robe tinged with silver was wheeled into the control room. Everyone inclined their heads toward her as a sign of respect. Her name was Enan and she was the leader of the humans. Her legs and arms were gone, amputated many years ago. She had survived the X-cross and leather bands long enough to be rescued after the Airlia who had put her there thought she was dead and left her body to be picked apart by scavenger birds. Rebels had sneaked up to the cross just after dark and cut her loose. Her limbs, broken and dead from lack of blood, had been removed by a surgeon, and she’d been nursed back to health.
Enan looked slowly back and forth, taking in everyone in the room. “We have done what we did not think we coulddo — we’ve defeated the Airlia. We are free.” With the slightest inclination of her head she indicated for the young woman who pushed her wheelchair to move her to the front of the room. “I have just come from science headquarters. They’ve finally managed to access the history banks of the Master Guardian.”
The room went silent as they waited to hear the truth. Donnchadh felt both fear and anticipation. No one knew when the Airlia had come to this planet and taken over— that was lost in the fog beyond recorded human history. Some said the Airlia had always been here, but Donnchadh and the other scientists did not believe that — the small numbers, the single mothership, and other factors pointed to an occupying force, although why the Airlia had occupied their planet was also a mystery.
Enan closed her eyes and her head drooped slightly as if bearing some terrible weight. With great effort she opened her eyes and lifted her head. “We are not native to this planet as we always thought we were, and the Airlia are not alien invaders who conquered our species long ago in the past.”
A long silence followed this statement, which Enan broke with another startling piece of information. “The Airlia brought us here with them.”
Without even thinking about it, Donnchadh found her hand reaching out and taking Gwalcmai’s as they listened. She was stunned, having never considered the possibility that humans were not native to this planet.
“We always knew that we had certain genetic similarities to the Airlia, given that we breathe the same air and can eat the same food and even appear to be very similar. We thought that was what brought them to this planet and to us. But it is not so. We are similar because we are genetic cousins to them, developed by them. The first humans were grown bythe Airlia through manipulation of their own genetic mapping.”
“Why?” the word escaped someone’s lips.
Enan nodded. “That is the key question and the answer is not a good one. The Airlia have been engaged in an interstellar war against another alien species officially called the Swarm and unofficially the Ancient Enemy. This war has been going on for such a long time that those of our scientists who accessed these data from the Master Guardian could not quantify it. Spread over galaxies, this war seems to have been going on forever as far as we are concerned. At the very least beyond the scope of what we can imagine.
“We are part of a long-range Airlia plan to take part in this war. We were designed to be what we became, rather ironic in a way — soldiers. Except we were supposed to be used against the Swarm, not revolt against the Airlia. When the time came that they needed us, they would have given that generation access to the Grail so we could be better soldiers. Until that time, they kept us mortal, with short life spans. They taught us to worship them as Gods while they bred us like cattle.”
Enan smile grimly. “Except as everyone in this room knows it did not work as they planned. We became more than cannon fodder to be used by them.”
She fell silent, allowing everyone to assimilate this startling and unexpected information.
“That is not all,” Enan finally said. One of the scientists who had entered the room with her went over to the large curving control console for the mothership. He seemed to know what he was doing and Donnchadh had to assume he’d been in physical contact with the Master Guardian and directly learned information about the mothership from the alien computer. How he had done that without being takenover by the alien computer she didn’t know, but Enan had indicated it had been done safely.