Planet Wrecker

-45-

Cassius sat in a chair before a small wooden table. He was still on Luna, in a bare room. A shock rod lay on the table, the sole object. A single bulb provided light.

The door swished open. A Highborn in battleoid-armor entered. Behind him followed Maniple Leader Felix. The youthful replica of Cassius had changed subtly since that day on the Julius Caesar. Rage still burned in his eyes, but his features had become sullen, with a hint of mulishness that hadn’t been there before. It was difficult to detect at first, but something vital, a spark of intellect or life force had been drained away. Felix had died, had been injected with Suspend and then he’d been resuscitated. The psychologists claimed he didn’t remember his death, but Cassius didn’t believe it.

Felix wore titanium-reinforced manacles, effectively trapping his wrists before him. As their eyes met, Felix halted.

“You,” said Felix.

Cassius said nothing, he merely watched. It pained him to recognize the resuscitation disease. Some Highborn did better than others when brought back to life. He himself had never died. After studying Felix, it seemed wisest if he never did so.

Lifting the titanium-reinforced manacles, Felix said, “Just how brave are you?”

Cassius clicked a hand-unit. The manacles popped open.

With a snarl, Felix whipped his hands at Cassius, hurling the manacles. Swaying to the side, Cassius dodged them. He’d been expecting that, an elementary maneuver. The manacles clanged against the wall, slid down and hit the floor.

“Wait outside,” Cassius told the battleoid-armored Highborn.

The guard never shrugged or bothered with a warning. He simply marched out, slamming the door behind him.

“I could kill you before he entered again,” Felix said.

“You tried that once already when you had the advantage. My recommendation is to wait before you attempt it again. Try to gain an absolute advantage.”

Felix massaged one of his wrists. He sneered at Cassius. “I’ve been training hard.”

“Good. You’re going to need every ounce of your rage and fighting spirit soon.”

“You’re shooting us at the cyborgs, eh?” Felix spat on the floor. “That’s wise, old man. Otherwise, I would have killed you sooner or later.”

Cassius leaned forward. “Your fury lacks rationality. We possess similar chromosomes. We are alike in many ways. I…I wish you to excel.”

“Is that why you shot my favorite sex object?”

“The premen could have used your girls against you, killing you like an animal.”

“Why do you care?”

“I’ve already stated the reason: our chromosomes.”

Felix’s eyes widened, and he laughed harshly. “You see me as your father?”

A pang of something beat in Cassius’s heart.

“Highborn have no fathers, no mothers,” said Felix. “We are alone. It is one of our strengths.”

“We are the Highborn, the most superior form of life in existence,” said Cassius.

“Do want me to call you father?” Felix jeered.

“I want you to excel,” said Cassius.

“Why?” asked Felix, taking a step nearer.

Cassius groped for the right words, and it surprised him that he didn’t have them.

Felix’s leg muscles tensed.

“Don’t do it,” Cassius whispered. “You already have a mark against you for attempting to assassinate me. A second mark will bring about your destruction.”

“Why do you care?”

“You have the best of genes,” Cassius said. “Someday, you may become the Grand Admiral.”

Felix roared as he leaped for the table. Cassius was closer, if a touch slower. Snatching the shock rod, he switched it to its highest setting. Then he cracked it across Felix’s forehead. With a howl, Felix crashed sideways and collapsed onto the floor.

The door opened as the battleoid-armored guard looked in.

“Get out!” Cassius snarled.

The soldier stepped back, slamming the door shut.

Taking two steps, Cassius crouched beside Felix. “You have courage and you’re full of vigor. Those are excellent traits. Now you must learn to use your mind, to think.”

“I’m going to kill you someday,” Felix whispered.

“First you’re going to have to survive the cyborgs.”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Cassius said. “To survive the cyborgs, you’re going to have to kill all of them. Do you think you can do that?”

Felix turned his head. There was something more than mere rage there.

Cassius looked away, and he stood up. He suddenly felt very tired and alone. It was a dull ache.

“Running away, old man?”

“You have the very best genes,” Cassius whispered.

“I can’t hear you. Why don’t you bend your ear near here by my teeth?”

“You must suppress your fury,” Cassius said. “For you, indulging your anger will bring eventual madness. You must cultivate your higher reasoning abilities and learn to lean on them.”

With a groan, Felix struggled to rise. Old Gaius could have done it, Cassius realized. But Gaius did it through willpower. Felix’s mind had been damaged in death or during resuscitation. There had to be a way to fix that.

“Good luck against the cyborgs, my boy.”

“I’m not your boy. I’m your death waiting to happen.”

The pang of hurt touched Cassius heart again. With a deep breath, he buried that hurt. He steeled himself to the tasks at hand. Then he headed for the door, never once looking back, not even as Felix groaned, fighting to get up.