The Guardians of Sol (7 page)

Crying out in alarm and pain, the knight bent forward into a head butt. Telamon barely had time to get his good eye out of the way of the horns. The force was such that Telamon thought he saw sparks jump from both helmets. The Spartan felt a little dizzy. Getting too old for this kind of thing, he thought.

Once again the two separated. Telamon shook his head to clear it – not one of his best decisions as it only served to send searing pain shooting through him. Blood was flowing freely from the knight’s shoulder. Holding the overly large sword lightly in his left hand, the knight lunged forward for what he hoped would be the last attack.

Telamon swayed – unintentionally – to the inside of the blade. He crashed the pommel down on the base of the knight’s neck – intentionally. The younger man stumbled and then tripped over Telamon’s outstretched leg, right to the edge of the circle. The old Spartan walked over while the knight was trying to regain his balance, and kicked him firmly in the buttocks.

The knight sprawled out on the ground outside of the ring with a large crash. Telamon bowed to the Emperor, who nodded in turn with a small amused grin. The Spartan staggered slightly as he went back to his compatriots.

He grabbed Michael’s shoulder. “Maybe you should have one of the younger mutts do that from now on… I think I’m going to lie down now.”

Michael chuckled. “Go ahead Tel. And that last kick was a very thoughtful move on your part.” Telamon’s reply was silent, graceful, and to the point as he collapsed onto the grass.

“What was the point of all that?” Arkadios whispered to one of the other Spartans.

“Politics” Was the only answer he got. Michael noticed the poor kid’s confusion and came to his rescue.

“Uther risked very little, because it is known that Guardians are superior warriors, but if his man had won then it would have been a boon to his army’s moral and a potential bane to ours. But because of politics, I couldn’t refuse the challenge because it could be taken as a sign of weakness which would promote attacks on Confederate holdings, or it could be taken as a slight to the other King, could be used as a premise for attacks on Confederate holdings. You see my quandary?”

“Yeah. I don’t think I want to get involved in politics,” Arkadios replied.

“And yet… if Uther truly did want to get a win over a Guardian, then he should have sent Marcus to face Telamon. What kind of game is he playing?” Michael muttered, clearly worried.

*****

They watched the Emperor’s chosen Samurai take apart the opposing Eagle headed knight with little difficulty, literally disarming the man in the process. Michael shook his head. The poorly skilled Eagle knight should never have been a part of the King’s Guard. He could remember the Knights of the Table when Uther’s father was king. Now those had been worthy opponents. Now that they were finally done with the trials of combat, the Emperor led the party to an ornate, and overly large dining hall. Telamon was seated a few chairs away from Michael, who was in turn seated directly to the right of the Emperor.

The Samurai Captain of the Royal Guard flagged down Telamon’s attention. “So, as I was telling you… I really favor the Phoenix team to win the Mecha series next year. If only we could get those beautiful machines to work in more of a wartime environment… Hm, they must be too complex if you ask me. But truly beautiful machines.”

“I actually have my Tiger team engineers working on durability simplification. Who knows what things will be like in a few years?”

From the other side of the Samurai Captain, Arkadios piped in. “What exactly is the ‘Mecha Series’? I’ve heard little details here and there, but nothing really definitive.”

“It’s also called the Mecha Wars. It’s a tournament comprised of fifty different teams of three, fourteen to twenty meter tall robotic armors that are piloted by some of the craziest civilians in existence. Each team’s mecha is customized to that team’s strategy, so no two team’s robots even look the same. They use live ammunition. The pilots are usually protected by the 30 centimeter cage of titanium surrounding them–“

“But accidents have been known to happen from time to time!” interrupted the Samurai captain.

“I’ll show you some of the matches on the holo-viewer when we get back to the apartments after dinner,” Telamon continued. “Until you see it for yourself, you can’t really comprehend just how fun it is to watch. Or to take part. Of course, I’ve only done a little testing on the mechs in my occasional free time.”

“I look forward to that then,” Arkadios said thankfully. He pointed to the Samurai seated next to him. “Think there’s any way me and him could set up a match? You know, like the one you had with that knight?”

“I’ll see what I can do about it, just don’t kill him or we’ll both be in trouble.”

Finally, the main course was served. It consisted of fish and venison, poultry and beef. All were lightly seasoned and quite fresh. Pastas and sauces from all over the world were provided on platters and bowls. Around the halls, conversation was small and polite. Little was actually said, despite all the noises coming from people’s mouths; and despite the European attempts to provoke the Spartans, or Corporate representatives trying to sell new products and investments to anyone who would listen, it was actually a nice meal.

*****

The armor clanged just a little when Telamon set it by the wall. With a great sigh, he fell onto a rich couch in the main room. He would polish the breastplate later. Now was time for sleep.

“Sir, you said that you would show me some Mecha war matches?” Arkadios questioned tentatively, knowing that Telamon could be rather volatile at times. The old man sighed, no sleep for the deserving…

“Yeah son, I did. Well, the viewer is in the corner, turn it on already. You sure are slow, pup.”

Arkadios didn’t say anything, just clenched his jaw and did as he was told. With a small tone, the viewer activated and showed a three dimensional view of the earth.

“Viewer, show the latest Mecha series match. You,” Telamon said pointing at Arkadios. “If you have any other questions or want to watch anything else. Just ask the machine.” Then he clambered up from the couch and went to his own room to rest in peace.

Arkadios on the other hand, stayed up for several hours more, watching match after match, completely enthralled. The last one he watched was the championship bout from the last season. The one where Tortoise team went up against the Falcon team. After that, Arkadios went to bed. Just because he didn’t have any real duties the next day didn’t mean that he didn’t have anything to do.

June 11, 2289. Sol System,
Kyoto Japan

Michael wasn’t happy. He did a good job not showing it, but Telamon knew his friend well enough to tell otherwise. He also knew that the problem lay with the young king of the AEU. The young man just couldn’t seem to get it into his head that it was in the best interests of everyone involved to cooperate and share information.

Telamon stood behind his leader, once again clad in his armor. Next to him was Argentos, with the other two Spartans waiting around back at the apartment. He wouldn’t have minded being in his combat armor though. Despite the size and gleaming surfaces of their armor, the Spartans didn’t actually look all that formidable compared to their equally accoutered counterparts. Spartans had built up quite a formidable reputation that was useful for intimidation. It merely gave credit to the saying that appearances were deceiving.

Their powered armor had no obvious ranged weapons, but held extendable javelins in compartments on their backs. The Spartan armor was filled with other various deadly and inconspicuous armaments as well. The interlocking plates were designed to be reminiscent of their bronze armor, gold-bright on the inside, and copper-red at the edges. Given the impracticality of cloaks in modern combat, their traditional clothe was replaced by a scarlet skirt, made of the same durable material as the ballistic fiber-mesh bodysuits that all Castigars wore under their protective plating. The shields that went with the power armor were half again as large as the ones they carried the day before. Because they were the Sentinel’s Guard, Telamon and his men’s helmet sported black crests and their crimson kilts were edged with ebony.

After the half-hour or so of political niceties, the talks quickly got heated. The Emperor, though most wise, was too old to do much more than conduct. Uther Pendragon was too young and belligerent to get the other sovereigns go along with his designs. If only those designs weren’t quite so opaque. Only Michael had struck the balance between wisdom and action, unfortunately; that did nothing to help him in this situation.

“We need to track down the source of these unprecedented technological instances,” Michael began, and carefully eyed President Roberts and King Lwazi. “Do any of you truly believe that the Republics would have attacked the research base in California if they didn’t possess new weapons? Or that the Zulus could have held back your army last year, Uther?”

“The only reason the Zulus beat my men was because of my
former
General’s ineptitude,” Uther retorted.

“And who appointed him?” The Emperor chided. “Don’t let your pride blind you, young king.”

“Superior strategy and tactics go a very long way toward evening odds,” Lwazi said.

“Even with the superior tactics – compared to the Europeans - that the Zulus tend to use, there still should have been no way that they could have beaten your army so handily.” Michael said candidly. “Both my satellites and those of the Emperor picked up strange images and energy emissions. Something was definitely different about those battles”

“There were reports from the battlefield. I, however, do not trust them,” Uther declared.

“What did these reports say, Uther?”

“The men claimed that Zulu armor was practically as durable as their own. Though, a great deal less agile.”

“I have my own researchers to call on. The Nation is not content to languish and fade into technological obscurity. I assure you,” he said, leveling his attention at Uther. “That the agility problem is being worked upon as we speak.”

“I had thought that the Zulu nation was still technologically behind the Republics.” Michael took a moment to ponder. “I commend your people on their industriousness.”

“Thank you, Sentinel,” Lwazi replied gratefully. “I am sure my people will be honored when they hear of your regard.”

“Perhaps our peoples could work together on something? Like a joint research project. We’ll talk more later.”

“What if the lesser nations were given their new technology? Perhaps they didn’t develop them on their own?” Uther asked.

“Take care before calling a nation ‘lesser’ when its holdings and populations triple your own,” Lwazi warned.

Sighing, the Emperor spoke quietly. “One would think that these leaps are too large for the normal evolution of knowledge, even accounting for the occasional data theft. Natural progression does not rule such leaps out.”

Uther’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I think that it would be wise for all of us to look into this. To pool our resources, as it were,” He said slyly. “Of course, any information we glean will gladly be shared…”

*****

Back in the courtyard, Arkadios walked around the ring where only the day before had his Captain defeated his opponent so… nicely. Now, thanks to Telamon’s persuasion, Arkadios was going to get a chance to test his own mettle against a most worthy opponent.

They had managed to find a rather impartial judge in the form of Marcus Santiago. The surprise was that the man was from the AEU delegation. The Spanish knight was an oddity for his remarkably even-temper, as well as the fact that he was a part of the Table. Normally, the Pendragon family only raised other Britons to their personal guard. When he had heard of a duel taking place for the sheer joy of competition, Marcus, the Wolf Knight, had immediately volunteered his services.

Arkadios started going through the practiced stretches of his chosen martial art. While at first the thought was generally that martial arts wouldn’t mesh with the phalanx battle style of the Spartans, it quickly went away; not every battle could make use of a phalanx. All Spartans, indeed, all Guardians, mastered at least one style during their training. It seemed to add a much needed grace and surety to their movements, in or out of battle.

On the other side of the garden, Arkadios’ opponent, Kiyoshi, ran through his own ritual, which appeared to combine elements of Aikido and Jujutsu. Neither was hurried in either of their movements, with their masters locked up in a room for hours on end neither had any duties this day.

Marcus stood between the last of the Spartans, Nestor, and a Samurai, Kou. Their cultures were made very apparent by their clothing. Marcus relaxed in loose jeans, a t-shirt, and a worn leather jacket, with a sword incongruously strapped to his back. Nestor sat attentively on a bench, clad only in a black wool kilt and his scarlet cloak. Kou, wearing loose robes, seemed almost happy as he talked animatedly with Marcus.

Taking several deep breaths, Arkadios walked to the edge of the circle to signify his readiness. A few minutes later, Kiyoshi followed suit. Their respective companions moved over the help them put on their armor.

Now that he was properly appareled for the fight Arkadios stepped into the blue and white ring. He carried much the same armament as Telamon did the day before: heavy round shield, eight-foot spear, and two razor-sharp leaf-bladed short swords. In contrast, Kiyoshi had on a lighter variety of Samurai armor, and held his own three-pointed spear in a two-handed grip. Katana and Wakizashi were belted around his waist.

Marcus rang the gong; the match began. They stalked each other for a few moments, Arkadios with a grin and Kiyoshi very calm. Kiyoshi swept his spear into a straight shot for the Spartan’s face, but before Arkadios could block, the samurai reversed the flow of his attack to strike at his opponent’s foot. Arkadios stepped back lightly to avoid the blow, and responded with a powerful overhead thrust of his own.

*****

“So how have you punished the Republics for their attack?” Uther asked. He was trying to stare down the High Sentinel, the fool.

Michael just looked at the young king with a funny face. “That is one of the items on my agenda. If you truly didn’t know this already then perhaps you should make sure that your intelligence agency is up to its task,” he said blithely.

Pendragon grimaced slightly. Michael had begun to take a new tact with the young man: be happy and whimsical. Uther kept getting so frustrated that he couldn’t properly pursue an agenda that was almost certainly only to his gain. A positive result in Michael’s book.

“As I have already explained,” President Roberts reiterated. “The attack on your research facility was undertaken by a rogue black ops group that had already been dismantled and disavowed well before the assault.”

“Then they were remarkably well outfitted and manned. At least we picked up some interesting bits of tech from the forces we captured. So nothing for restitutions? Even disavowed, the group was still your responsibility to contain,” Michael probed, and then smiled after no answer was forthcoming. “Personally, I think that the best way to regain global balance is for all of our nations to unite in singular purpose. Or, at least appear that way. Pooling our resources should prevent large scale destruction and allow our species to reach heights undreamed of.”

“Just what do you propose this ‘singular purpose’ be, O mighty Sentinel?” Uther questioned.

“Why, expansion on a scale such that even the horrors of another World War wouldn’t imperil the future our species. A golden age of peace and prosperity.”

“So all of our space colonies aren’t up to that task? Why then, did we even construct them in the first place? I believe it was one of your predecessors who convinced my grandfather to build them in the first place.”

“It was a necessary first step. Don’t ever think that all the effort that has been put into the colonies was wasted. Now that we have sufficiently large populations adapted to life in a void, we can send out colony ships equipped with Archimedes drives to inhabitable star systems again.”

“I can remember the last few times the Confederacy sent out such expeditions,” the Emperor said. “As I recall, you still have yet to here word from any of them.”

“They were sent without that expectation. But that is just another reason to send out expeditions. If they have settled their planets, then they will probably have developed technology divergent from our own and that is potentially very beneficial. If they have not settled, we need to know what happened to them anyway, so that we can avoid such fates in the future. Our destiny does not lie in this one small system.”

The Emperor leaned back, taking a deep breath. “A lovely speech, and a most intriguing prospect. Are you confident in the newest series of Archimedes drives though?”

“As much as any of us can be without actual tests outside of the system,” Michael grinned. “However, we have gotten the last few production lines so accurate that our courier ships don’t need to use Gates to navigate between the various outposts and colony clusters. We should be able to keep in better touch with anyone we send out.”

“I will consider this. As should we all. If this possibility is truly as good as Michael says it is then we all stand to benefit. Now let us move on to more… terrestrial things.”

*****

The spear rebounded off his great round shield, scoring an abundance of sparks off the surface. Arkadios was surprised at his opponent; the man was almost as resilient as a Spartan. Granted, Telamon had warned him that the Samurai were tough. Worthy opponents he had said. Unfortunately, Arkadios hadn’t thought he’d have a true challenge. Give it to a humble Samurai to reveal a Spartan’s one true weakness – pride. Interestingly the Spartans who had been humbled in their lifetimes were the ones that were most effective; accomplishing the most missions successfully and surviving most often.

Kiyoshi whipped his spear, his yari, across his chest, turning aside Arkadios’ own blade. Arkadios moved forward with his attack, bringing up his shield to push back the Samurai. He spun on his heel, whipping his spear’s butt spike around to shatter one of the lacquered wood panels making up Kiyoshi’s breastplate.

Pressing his advantage, Arkadios jabbed with the spear. Kiyoshi was not as off-balanced as he appeared, and caught the spear blade inside the right-angled tines of his yari. Kiyoshi wrenched both weapons as hard as he could, and was rewarded with the snap of hardened ash from the Spartan’s spear. Unfortunately, the force needed to destroy his opponent’s weapon, had also fractured the bamboo shaft of Kiyoshi’s own yari.

Arkadios immediately hopped back, drawing one of his short swords from it’s sheathe in his shield. Kiyoshi tossed the broken shaft of his yari at Arkadios, blocking with his shield. The Samurai used those precious few seconds to draw both katana and wakizashi.

The two warriors circled, each testing the other’s defense. What few attacks got past his heavy bronze shield, Arkadios’ sword easily handled. Comparably, the Samurai’s two swords defeated each of Arkadios’ attacks in turn. A low blow deflected by the Spartan’s round shield ended up cutting a line on his upper arm.

Arkadios pushed with all his might, the Samurai stumbled, fell. Kiyoshi rolled back to his feet, ready once again for the onslaught.

*****

“On a brighter note, in working with the Corporations, we’ve managed to reclaim almost fifty percent of the irradiated regions in North America.” Michael reported, glancing at the dossier in front of him.

“One wonders, if this technology might be made available to my people. We’re still struggling with the greater area of China, and it would be nice to be able to produce more food for those depending on me,” inquired the Emperor.

“Aye; and I do it gladly. Nothing would please me more than to see the Earth whole once more. We’ve already adapted some of the techniques to help the Zulus recover land from the Sahara and make it arable.”