Machines are neither more nor less than we make them.
— RAQUELLA BERTO-ANIRUL,
Essays from the Edge of Consciousness
Agamemnon, Juno, and Dante soared along in immense warrior bodies. The general felt exhilarated to be planning a military assault again, seizing a place far from Richese where they would be safe from Omnius’s dull-witted machine marauders. A place where they could regroup, grow stronger, and plan the next phase of their new cymek empire.
The three Titans were accompanied by a large force of neo-cymek battleships, each an extension of a single human brain with thoughtrode connections. All of these neos professed their loyalty with great enthusiasm, especially since they knew Agamemnon could activate selective termination switches and kill any of them on a whim. Still, he felt confident enough in their allegiance and dedication. Once their brains had been removed from biological bodies, what else were the neo-cymeks to do?
After abandoning Richese, the swarm of ferocious-looking ships converged upon the frozen planetoid of Hessra, where the Ivory Tower Cogitors had isolated themselves for many centuries.
“According to our projections, there should be no defenses here,” Dante said. “The Cogitors pretend not to participate in any outside activities. They simply hide and think.”
Juno made a derisive, guttural sound. “They can pretend all they like, but the Cogitors were never as neutral as they claimed to be. They’ve always had a meddling finger inserted somewhere.”
“As b-ba-bad as hrethgir,” damaged Beowulf transmitted in his hitching voice. While tolerant of Beowulf because of his past service, Agamemnon was annoyed that the neo-cymek had eavesdropped on a private discussion among Titans.
With exaggerated patience, Dante said, “My point was that our victory is assured. I foresee no military difficulties whatsoever in taking Hessra.”
“Nevertheless, I intend to relish every moment of it.” Agamemnon directed his force of cymek ships to encircle and descend. With expendable neos in front, the angular vessels converged in an expanded attack formation above the glacier-encrusted fortress of ancient philosophers.
While the Ivory Tower Cogitors professed disinterest in the outside galaxy and held to their isolation, they were not totally self-sufficient. They had long operated a secret business supplying the cymeks with electrafluid, even after Agamemnon and his rebels had broken free of the Synchronized Worlds.
Unwilling to be completely dependent on Vidad and his ilk, Dante had established the Titans’ own electrafluid-manufacturing facilities on Bela Tegeuse and Richese. While the mass-produced fluid was adequate for neo-cymeks, Agamemnon and his Titans demanded better quality, and no electrafluid was superior to the concoction made for the Ivory Tower Cogitors. Today, the Titan general would seize the facilities for himself, claiming Hessra as his new headquarters, and beginning his long-delayed march on history….
The black towers of the isolated citadel protruded from thick glaciers, nearly engulfed by slow rivers of ice that had built up over the centuries. The once-tall spires that housed the disembodied brains looked as if they were drowning in a flood of crawling snow and ice.
Agamemnon and Juno, flying in the lead, delighted in activating their integrated flamethrowers augmented by streams of oxygen from the thin air of Hessra. Tongues of fire lashed out from the cymek craft, pummeling the black stone walls, breaking away huge chunks of ice, and sending a prodigious cloud of camouflaging steam roiling into the dim sky.
“That will clear more operational area for us,” Agamemnon said, setting down his ship.
In a dry voice, Dante delivered instructions to the neo-cymeks. His optic threads detected three yellow-robed secondaries rushing to tower windows and balconies. Mouths agape, they took in the situation of the unexpected attack, then fled for shelter inside.
Neo-cymeks continued to land like carrion crows around the immense Titan ships. Agamemnon transferred his brain canister into a small but powerful walker-form that would fit within the corridors of the stronghold. He summoned a group of neos to lead the charge, blasting open walls and battering aside doors. After exchanging their large mechanical vessels for smaller walker-bodies, they marched in like a procession of mechanized army ants loaded with weapons. Agamemnon clattered triumphantly behind them. The sharp legs of his walker-body struck sparks against the stone floor.
Outside, the clumsy neo-cymek Beowulf misjudged his landing and crashed, tumbling off a cliff and coming to rest helplessly inside a new crevasse of the broken glacier. When the neo-cymeks reported the blunder, Agamemnon considered simply leaving Beowulf there where he could freeze and be covered up by the slow but inexorable closing of the glacial jaws.
But Beowulf had once been a valuable ally, far more dependable and talented than the inept Xerxes, who had a much longer résumé of failure. Grudgingly, the Titan general issued orders for the removal of Beowulf’s brain canister from the ruins of his ship-body and its insertion into a neo-cymek mechanical walker. I am running out of excuses to keep Beowulf alive. The brain-damaged neo-cymek was no longer an asset, and was rapidly becoming an actual liability.
Inside the frozen Cogitor fortress, neo-cymek warriors encountered and dispatched more than a dozen yellow-robed secondaries. Agamemnon killed two of them himself, using the antique projectile weapon that he had obtained from Thurr on Wallach IX. It worked perfectly.
Just ahead of the general, his neo-cymeks found libraries and work-rooms where the monklike secondaries had spent their days copying and transcribing. It seemed the attendants had been particularly fascinated with all known manifestations of the mysterious Muadru runes found on scattered planets.
Additional chambers deep in the bowels of the fortress were devoted to electrafluid chemistry. Saffron-robed workers in the laboratories cowered as neo-cymeks stormed in, interrupting their chanting, ritualistic processes of converting water into the life-sustaining liquid.
Agamemnon issued explicit instructions and sent Dante to enforce them. “Find out how these factories work and then kill most, but not all, of the underlings. We need at least some of them alive.”
Other secondaries fled into a large central chamber where the Cogitors rested on their pedestals. When finally Agamemnon emerged into the enclosure and surveyed the shimmering canisters of the Ivory Tower Cogitors, he was distressed to find only five brains floating in individual cylinders of bluish life-preserving liquid.
One of the six was missing.
“General Agamemnon, your arrival is needlessly destructive and chaotic,” one of the ancient philosophers said through the pedestal’s speakerpatch. “How may we assist you? Are you here to procure a supply of electrafluid?”
“That’s part of it. I also intend to take over Hessra and destroy all Cogitors. Which one of you is not here?” He raised a mechanical arm, pointing its sharp end toward the empty pedestal.
Guileless, the philosopher brains hummed and answered honestly, “Vidad has taken up temporary residence on Salusa Secundus to advise and observe the League of Nobles. We need further data and discussions to continue to grow.”
“That isn’t going to happen after today,” Juno said, strutting her ominous body into the chamber beside Agamemnon’s. She’d always had a particular dislike for the meddling Cogitors, especially the one named Eklo, who had worked with Iblis Ginjo to foment a rebellion on Earth. That had been the beginning of this appalling, destructive Jihad.
Even though the League’s crusade against machines had allowed the cymeks to launch their own rebellion and break free of the evermind’s control, Agamemnon still harbored a deep grudge against the Cogitors. “Do you have any final brilliant revelations before we execute you?”
One of the Cogitors, speaking in a female voice, said with strange placidity, “We have a great many areas in which to enlighten you, General Agamemnon.”
“Unfortunately for you, I am not interested in being what you would consider enlightened.”
Instructing the neo-cymek walker-forms to continue searching the corridors and chambers of the Hessra installation, Agamemnon and Juno moved forward. They wanted to do this for themselves. It was a way for the two Titans to show their love for each other.
Raising powerful mechanical arms, they toppled the pedestals, smashing the transparent canisters that held the ancient Cogitors, and took great delight in grinding the quivering brains into oozing pulp with mechanical fists, one after another. It was over far too soon.
Finally, standing in the dripping wreckage, Agamemnon declared that Hessra was now theirs. There had never been any doubt of the matter.