Three Square Meals Ch. 121

"No... that's fine," he said hesitantly, face-to-face with the small synthetic creature. "I... ah... didn't know you guys could talk."

"It is a recent development," the robot said noncommittally. It bowed its head and continued, "The Invictus_Node_Collective would like to invite you to a ceremony."

With Rachel's help, Dana stood on shaky legs and walked over to join them. "What kind of ceremony, Little one?"

"To commemorate Meta_Faye," the robot replied, looking up at her. "You are her friends and family... as are we. She would have... wanted you to be there."

Dana put a hand over her mouth as her eyes filled with fresh tears. Unable to reply, she trembled as she nodded.

John reached up to squeeze her other hand, then turned back to the robot. "We'd like to join you..."

It reversed and half turned, then gestured towards the airlock with one of its tiny metallic limbs.

After sharing a startled look with Alyssa, John lurched to his feet and shook himself off. He put his arm around Dana, who was barely keeping it together, and walked slowly towards the Invictus, accompanying the cleaning robot as it trundled across the clearing. With its movement limited by tracks, the automaton had to make wide detours around fallen trees, but it sped up to stay just ahead of them until it rolled through the airlock door.

John and the girls followed it inside, then turned right to go through the broad open doors into the Primary Hangar. Dana froze at the sight within, then leaned heavily against John as she began to cry.

Faye's petite form had been laid to rest on a raised bier, her purple hands carefully folded across her chest. It almost looked like she was sleeping, her purple skin and white dress as pristine as the day of her body's creation. Above her, a flickering hologram showed Faye's elfin face lit up by a beautiful smile, one that John had seen almost every day since she'd joined them. She looked so happy and full of life...striking John as ironic that a synthetic creature could possess such incredible joie de vivre.

There were three grinning masks placed at the foot of her bier, their presence a mystery to John until he did a quick headcount of the maintenance bots lined up to either side of Faye. There were 21 in attendance and he immediately understood the significance of the missing three.

"God... their faces..." Dana whispered, staring at the robots through her tears.

The maintenance robots no longer wore the faces that Dana had created for them. The rictus grins that had become a long-running joke, had been replaced by freshly fabricated titanium faceplates. Their sculpted features would have been endearing, if not for their sorrowful expressions... and the single tear marked on their right cheek.

"Oh, Faye... what did you do..." Irillith murmured, staring wide-eyed at the legion of grief-stricken robots.

"They all loved her like we did," Dana sobbed, before turning away and weeping into John's chest.

John turned to look at their mysterious guide and saw that the cleaning robot had its head bowed, shoulders slumped in an uncanny approximation of grief. His heart ached for the small automaton and he reached out to gently touch its domed head.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," he said quietly. "We'll never forget Faye either."

***

Rahn'hagon strode along the corridor towards the Observation Lounge, his mind in turmoil. After nearly ten thousand years spent alone on Arcadia, the last forty years had been a blur of excitement and pleasure, spent exclusively in Jessica's delightful company. Then he'd endured a week as Larn'kelnar's prisoner, subjected to constant interrogations and attempts to break into his mind. However, he could scarcely believe the rollercoaster of emotions he'd experienced in the last hour, with nothing in his extraordinarily long life remotely preparing him for this.

Seeing his son return as he always hoped he would, had filled Rahn'hagon with joy, along with a heady rush of paternal pride... something he'd never expected. Then to discover that he'd been deceived... that Xar'aziuth and his minions were more of a threat than ever... it had been a crushing blow. To think of those thousands of years of meticulous research being all for naught, as well as the dreadful realisation that a horde of Progenitors might soon be swarming over this area of space... the sheer scale of the disappointment and terror had left him reeling.

Making the final decision to end John's life had been far more difficult than he could have ever imagined. Rahn'hagon had resigned himself to it, knowing that claiming the Maliri was his only chance of survival. He'd believed the guide... a failsafe implemented to make sure that John would never turn against him, but in the light of subsequent events, nothing the guide said made sense. It had called John weak and powerless, possessing merely a thousand thralls... but John fought back with the strength and fury of a Progenitor at the apex of his power.

After that, all sense of logic disappeared as one of John's thralls revealed herself to be a phenomenally potent psychic. There was something else about Alyssa too... an eerie familiarity in those pointed ears... but that train of thought went to absurd destinations. Finally, Jessica had revealed that it wasn't just Alyssa that was gifted, but all the thralls accompanying John had similar abilities. He would have assumed she was simply mistaken, but Jessica had been present during the confrontation with Larn'kelnar... and her descriptions of the powers they'd used were far too vivid to be a misunderstanding.

At least, from what he'd been able to understand through all her crying...

That in itself was unsettling enough. In the forty years that he'd known the enchanting Terran female, he'd never seen her shed a single tear... and now she was disconsolate. It appeared he wasn't the only one deeply affected by the reappearance of their long-lost son.

Nearing the Observation Lounge, Rahn'hagon gestured towards the door, which opened obediently before him. He had spent long hours in this location on his own ship, watching one-sided battles unfold as his legion of thralls destroyed all before him. He'd lost count of the number of times he'd watched a Quantum Annihilator obliterate a planet from this choice spot, usually at the culmination of a long and glorious campaign. But this time, he felt anxious and concerned as he entered the long room, feelings that intensified when he laid eyes on Jessica.

The brunette stood by one of the broad windows, staring bleakly at Arcadia, the planet that had been their home for most of her adult life. Rahn'hagon walked towards her and was surprised that she didn't turn to smile at him.

"Jessica... I hope you're feeling better now..." he began awkwardly. Clearing his throat, he continued, "I've been preparing the ship for departure... we'll be leaving shortly."

"So we're just going to run away?" she muttered, her gaze never leaving the planet.

"It would be prudent," he replied, rubbing his chin nervously. "The site of Larn'kelnar's death would be the logical place to start looking for his killers. It's only a matter of time until Xar'aziuth sends someone to probe this sanctuary in an attempt to discover what happened."

If Jessica had heard the reply to her question, she didn't react to it in any way. Still staring straight ahead, she asked coldly, "Who started the fight?"

Rahn'hagon paused, her frosty tone making him hesitant.

"Jess..." he said in a conciliatory manner, gently touching her shoulder.

That brief contact triggered a reaction, but not one he'd ever expected.

Jessica shrugged off his hand and fixed Rahn'hagon with a furious glare, a look that he'd never seen before from the usually cheerful brunette. She brushed past him and stalked towards the door, without giving him so much as a backwards glance.