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A.R.Yngve

DARC AGES Book Three
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Chapter 19


Bor Damon read the transcribed laser message over and over to himself, as if it contained a hidden meaning that he must decipher.



My Good Friend,

The time has come to choose your destiny.

For some time, I have intercepted radio wave transmissions from D. You know where I stand. Whatever battles I have fought against outside forces in the past, I remain steadfast. "He" is The One. I bow before him, and look forward to the onset of a new Golden Age under his guidance. This I know in my heart, and my beloved wife supports my belief.

Another important development has come to my attention. A distant relative of mine has revealed by way of a secret laser transmitter in Pasko City, that Tharlos Pasko recently met with several high lords. The outcome was secret, but my source fears a military alliance is forming under Pasko. "He" is thus in immediate jeopardy, as is your brave son. Tharlos Pasko's ambitions are not likely to change. Should he succeed in eliminating "him", Tharlos will undoubtedly seek to dominate the whole of Castilia and all of Juro.

Our friendship has suffered from the absence of your son, who shared my opinion of "him". I implore you to set aside our past differences. You must once more become your former self, and act. We can pick up the shards of the once great alliance of five cities, which was betrayed by the Paskos. Many of our own people are divided in spirit, but one decisive move from you will seize their support. But you must act now. Once we were proud lords. This may be our last opportunity to be such men again.

Signed,
Lord Azuch Obispo Fache,
Fache City, Vemba 2, 940 AM.



Reading Azuch's dense, archaic letter-prose, Bor was in his mind transported to past times -- his violent and intense youth, followed by decades of peace and order, before frozen strangers and turncoat allies had complicated his life. True, the past had been harsh. The roving Leper tribes had pressed on harder than ever before, and only the alliance of the five families had sufficed to break their advance through the heart of Castilia. But even in the darkest moments, Bor had never doubted that he was fighting for a good cause. This had also been Azuch's set of mind -- and now Azuch, of all people, was clinging to a sudden leap of faith. Risking everything he had fought for, for some airy promise of another Golden Age!

Bor could not comprehend it. He knew beyond all doubt that Darc was just a man, precisely because it was Bor who had awakened him and seen him come to life again. A common illness had very nearly snatched Darc back to the grave. And yet -- this sickly, almost foolish man upset Bor's world to the very core. Bor Damon ceased his heavy thoughts when the thirst seized him. He dropped the letter, and looked around the transmission room for wine. He groped for the nearest bottle -- it was empty. He turned to his servant Vhustank, who was standing in a corner of the room. Vhustank had connected himself to a wall socket next to the laser transmission equipment, and was recharging his batteries. A soft, mute hum was all the noise the servant machine made.

"Vhustank," Bor said hoarsely, "bring me some more wine."

The robot's ornamented head turned to attention with an oily click, and Vhustank responded with total objectivity: "I cannot obey that order now, my lord."

Bor grew angry but added, without shouting: "Obey my order as soon as you think you should, then."

He had not intended those words, but rather a harsher reply. His prolonged bout with heavy drinking had blunted his spirit.

Then all of a sudden, Vhustank got stuck in loop of unresolved choices: "Just a moment... just a moment... just a moment... just a moment..." The mechanical mantra went on and on; these rare malfuntions were triggered by contradictory or certain vague commands. Bor sighed, not even bothering to get angry anymore. He sauntered over to the robot, and squinted into the flickering red slit that was its eyes. "Just a moment... just a moment... just a moment..."

Bor giggled a little, scraping his fingers against his chin -- he had been growing a short beard lately -- pointed a finger to Vhustank's forehead plate, and asked: "Will you make up your mind... or must I bash your head in?"

He giggled again.

The robot kept babbling: "Just a moment... just a moment..."

Right there and then, Bor knew that if he assaulted the helpless machine, he would go insane. Then he saw the lettering on Vhustank's gilded forehead, above the family emblem. The name of the machine's owner:

D A M O N

"Just a moment... just a moment..."


A revelation came. Bor was the one who could not make up his mind. He was acting just like that pathetic machine -- repeating the same pattern over and over, stuck in an unending loop. The insight chilled his spine. He had to break the loop, end the paralysis. On an impulse, Bor reached for the short cable that connected Vhustank's torso to the wall socket. He ought to have used the power switch below Vhustank's head -- but he was inept with electronics and too dazed to think clearly. Bor jerked at the wrong end of the cable, and a wire came loose. The socket responded with a loud snap -- a spark of high-voltage electricity shot out from the wall and into Bor's fist.

The shock tossed him backward -- he hit the floor, twisting spasmodically. The epileptic fit lasted another few seconds, and then he lay still -- thinking that his heart had stopped. Yet strangely enough, it was still beating.

In fact Bor was feeling well, if only a little shaky as he staggered to his feet. He shook his head, stumbled over to the open window and took a breath of fresh air. The lights of his city glittered below, and beyond that -- darkness. One could barely make out the faint shimmer of neighboring city-states on the horizon. The moon and the countless stars lit up the freezing, clear sky. Bor took it all in, as if for the first time, cherishing the sight.

"Yes," he said, mouth steaming with vapor in the cold night air. "I can fight one more battle."