Archon Than: Episode 1

Archon Than

Episode 1: The Vovokan Death Machine

by Michael McCloskey

Copyright 2013 Michael McCloskey

Smashwords Edition

ISBN: 978-0991052417

Cover art by Lindsey Look

Author’s Note

This is a work of super powered fiction (a superhero story). Though its setting resembles that of a science fiction novel, it is not really focused on future science and its repercussions, but rather on telling the tales of certain amazing individuals.

Athapon is a world where titles are of inflated importance, and in order to reflect that, the Author has used a few more capitalizations than the Reader may be used to: Titles such as Citizens and Archons, as well as professions (which are titles on Athapon) such as Armorer and Historian, are capitalized (even in the non-specific cases) to bring the atmosphere of Athapon closer to the Reader.

This novel has a soundtrack (in my mind). Here it is. All songs are property of their respective copyright holders; none of the songs are mine.

Pro 1 A Thousand Stars / Monster Magnet

Pro 2: My World / Emigrate

Ch 1: Who Wants to Be Alone / Tiesto

Ch 2: Artificial World / Julee Cruise with The Flow

Ch 3: Beautiful Killer / Madonna

Ch 4: Supersonic Killer / Kissin’ Dynamite

Ch 5: Closer / Destrophy

Ch 6: Killer in Me / D’Amato

Ch 7: Better Than Her / Matisse

Ch 8: Dangerous Power / Gabriel & Dresden

Ch 9: Skin Against Skin / DJ Crush

Ch 10: Fire It Up / Thousand Foot Krutch

Ch 11: Daughters of Darkness / Halestorm

Ch 12: Perfect Insanity / Disturbed

Ch 13: Be Still / Kaskade

Ch 14: Heavy Metal / Don Felder

Ch 15: Breathe Without You / Milk Inc

Ch 16: Move / Thousand Foot Krutch

Ch 17: She’s a Killer / Kissin’ Dynamite

Ch 18: Be Quick or Be Dead / Iron Maiden

Ch 19: Solex (Close to the Edge) / Michael Woods

Ch 20: Kiss the Sky / Danielle Bollinger

Ch 21: Indestructible / Disturbed

Ch 22: Death By Robot / Feed Me

Ch 23: Come...(Into My Dream) / Foggy

Prologue 1: A Thousand Stars

Hundreds of brightly clad Athapones milled about the royal court as they had every day for centuries. The court’s carbon and crystal walls soared above them twelve stories tall. Though it was dark outside, within the palace, alternating transparent and mirrored wall cells created a bright, confusing blend of colored lights and reflected images.

The center of the room held a raised dais, upon which rested the Emperor of Athapon. Emperor Chaln 2 sat surrounded by his magnificent guardsmachines, each a shining and perfect biped twice the size of any native Athapone. Though the guardsmachines were molded as near-naked Athapones, their shining skin of thick metal and ceramic rendered them near invulnerable to most weapons. The throne under the Emperor was actually seven solid diamond thrones interposed together across nine dimensions, or so the artisan who had presented it claimed. The brilliant lights of the hall shone in its facets, darkened only by the Emperor himself as he sat upon it.

The Emperor’s court felt his bad mood. He glared at his supplicants from his throne, grumbling about everything that came to his attention. Any conversation occurring upon the Imperial Dais was amplified and transmitted to be heard by every member of the court, whether physically present or not.

His court feared his current disposition, though not for their lives: the Imperial Codex asserted that every Citizen’s life was protected. He could only cause extensive inconvenience by giving orders and making laws. The Emperor was not a Citizen, and thus could be killed by any Citizen willing to replace him.

Yet the Emperor ruled on. Surrounded by cowardly immortals, he led Athapon, so long as he did not push anyone too far. Emperor Chaln 2 had grown bolder over the centuries. No Athapone would be willing to give up their Citizenship and kill him for any minor issue, since then their own life would be in danger in turn.

One woman, a newcomer, dared to approach the throne despite all the signs. The woman was tall, elegant, and striking. She wore a sparkling green dress that showed off her perfect light brown skin. Jewels adorned her at ear, forehead, and neck.

A Herald stepped forward meekly to introduce the woman, but the Emperor sent him scampering away with a look. The woman was not fazed. She stepped onto the Imperial Dais before the bedazzling Imperial Throne.

I am Historian Daphne 447, she said, dropping to her knee. Her voice echoed through the vast chamber, overpowering the low murmurs of courtesan chat. She held up her perfect face just long enough to be appreciated before bowing her head, causing it to be lost in abundant golden hair. The Emperor leaned forward. Everyone in the court held their breath, ready to see what punishment he would bring to bear on the insolent Historian.

The Emperor’s eyes played across the beauty of his guest upon the dais. Fate rolled its dice. The Emperor smiled. Apparently, the fact he had enjoyed a different mate every night of his long, long, life did not diminish his appetite for her.

You’re a vision, Historian Daphne four, four, seven. Tell me of yourself. He spoke each digit of her unique identifier as a separate number, with a brief but distinct pause between each. This was an affectation only the Emperor had which none dared copy lest he begin to issue decrees restricting the speaking patterns of Citizens.

I specialize in the ancient history of lost civilizations, forgotten wars, and extinct races across the universe.

The court hummed with the subdued sounds of an impressed audience surrounding them.

Interesting, the Emperor said neutrally, examining her lithe body and tanned skin. He leaned forward on the throne to focus on the Historian with greater intensity.

I am aged one hundred imperial rotations on this very day, she replied formally. It is a memorial birthday indeed, to be able to speak with your staggering magnificence.

The Emperor slid still closer to her, bringing him to the edge of the throne. He drank in her youthful beauty. Himself aged over three hundred imperial rotations, the Emperor had been kept alive by the finest scientists birthed across a thousand planet-bearing stars. As it was, he looked only at the cusp of middle age.

Your birthday! So wonderful, my beauty. Ask of me anything. Anything at all to please you.

That earned the Historian many dark glares from the Citizens of the court. In one bold move, she had earned what they sought and made it seem effortless. Historian Daphne 447 paused the exact right amount of time to pause. Her sense of decorum was without flaw.

I am a Historian, so... perhaps an event of great moment to record... perhaps... a conquest launched?

The Emperor’s eyes became large and round. Then a look of awe and wonderment took hold of his face. Finally, he simply smiled.

A conquest launched! he exclaimed in glee. Cartographer! he bellowed.

From amid the throng, a hologram of an Athapone dashed forward to grovel.

Yes, my Emperor?

Who and where are you, Cartographer?

Cartographer Carter 713, on Brisbane the Fifth, on the Moor in Ariticus.

Very good. And tell me, what enemies do we have in the universe?

None, my Emperor. The Cartographer’s voice was apologetic.

An awkward pause reigned. Only a handful of the Emperor’s closest dared to watch the proceedings openly; though surely a million others watched events unfold surreptitiously from all across Athapon and beyond.

The Emperor put a finger to his chin.

Then tell me, what powerful forces exist outside the Empire? What strong, fierce foe can we find? We need a formidable enemy, most deadly and ferocious, one that is not lightly stirred, so that the campaign will be of great import to the lovely Historian Daphne four, four, seven.

No such are known to me, my Emperor, said the Cartographer cautiously. He glanced at the mesmerizing Historian with disdain. Yet even his eyes flickered across her body for a fraction of a second.

The Emperor frowned. He turned back to look upon the glowingly beautiful Daphne.

Then we will send out scout ships to the farthest corners of existence! The Emperor declared.

Pardon my insolence, Most Grand and Powerful of Emperors of a Long Line of the Divine, Daphne said, bowing low. I myself know of an enemy. A foe so terrible they strike fear into the hearts of a hundred races.

What? What is this foe? the Emperor asked, shifting eagerly on his brilliant throne.

Well, sir, there is Vovok.

Vaaaavok, echoed the Emperor slowly. That place really exists?

It does, Most Grand— replied Historian Daphne until cut off by a wave of the Emperor’s hand. It does, she finished.

Cartographer?

There was a half second of silence.

I do not know—

Its location is buried in the depths of time, Daphne interrupted swiftly. But I have uncovered it.

A virtual star map appeared in their minds, a three dimensional image of the huge Empire spinning around and around until finally coming to rest on a red glowing point well outside even its extensive boundaries.

How ever more intriguing you are! the Emperor exclaimed. Armorers! Master Builder!

Yes— said several Armorers simultaneously.

And yes, your Majesty, finished the Master Builder without missing a beat.

The Emperor advanced to the edge of his balcony. He flung out his arm across the dark ocean that lay hundreds of meters below.

With me. Look out upon the placid waters of the Grand Marnmir.

The addressed court subjects came to the many balconies of the main palace. A few were there incarnate; the others were holographic ghosts from a handful of distant cities. They flitted off after him like drones following a queen bee in flight.

There, the Emperor said. His finger pointed dramatically across the Marnmir. A video feed of the ocean came up on a virtual display before his outstretched arm. The view shot forward across the waters to bring a distant island into plain sight.

"That island. What a fine spot for a fortress. A tall tower of blackest obsidian rising from the ocean. And it shall have only rooms dedicated