eugenesis-text

‘I hope you’ll excuse the incredulity in my voice when I say this, Xenon, but everything is going to
plan.’
‘What about the armour’
‘Well, we’ve just bagged ourselves another prize. Haxian’s been busy modifying the basic design for
more accurate targeting.’
‘You see, Rodern Everything is coming together.’
Rodern stepped to the edge of the balcony and leaned on the chest-high railing. In a puerile way he
enjoyed doing things that Xenon, with his impractical, idiotic bodyshell, found impossible.
‘If I may speak candidly, Xenon, the launch cannot come soon enough. My troops are restless and
I’m tired of laying low. Why are we developing all these contingency plans All we need is a well-equipped
army and the element of surprise. All these precautions, all these fail-safes – are they really necessary’
‘We are not taking “precautions”. Taking precautions implies an element of doubt as to our victory.’
Xenon slid a damp synthi-flesh tentacle around General Rodern’s neck. ‘You do not appreciate the
importance of strategy: you only see the short-term. I see the greater picture. That is why I am the Imperial
Majestrix and you, General Rodern, will never be anything more than a fourth-batch Neoseed.’
Xenon lifted Rodern off the floor. Death’s Head shrank into the shadows, engrossed.
‘I sometimes think you forget, Rodern, that it was I who gathered the scattered remnants of this race. It was
I who oversaw the construction of this base and the retrieval of our dead warriors. If this campaign fails, we
are lost. Can you not sense the significance of it all If you had any appreciation of our heritage you would
realise that we stand on the brink of a new epoch, just as our ancestors did before the Raid.’
Xenon moved Rodern over the edge of the balcony. ‘If success was ever essential, it is now.’
Rodern’s legs hung limply over the crowd, hundreds of metres below.
‘Never overestimate your importance to me. I could kill you now and ten more would rise to take
your place. Unicron made millions of Neoseeds, but there can only be one Majestrix.’
He dumped Rodern back onto the balcony. ‘Return to your troops and prepare for departure.’
Rodern rubbed his neck. ‘Yes, my Lord.’
As Death’s Head leant forward to catch the last word, his cloak sensed an opportunity. Dragging itself
across his shield and loosening its folds, the red rag dangled between the rafters. Death’s Head reached out
to scoop it up and saw General Rodern staring up at him. Rodern tugged the cloak, Death’s Head fell, and
Xenon’s tentacles were on him like cling-film.
Xenon turned Death’s Head over in the air as if looking for a watermark or a brand name. ‘What
have we here What’s your name, eavesdropper’
‘Prefer to remain anonymous, yes’
Rodern watched the mercenary with detached interest, pleased that someone else had stolen Xenon’s
attention. ‘How did you get in here’ he croaked.
‘You left the back door open.’
‘You have quite a sense of humour,’ said Xenon. ‘Perhaps this will impress upon you the gravity of
your situation.’
He threw Death’s Head off the balcony.
The bounty hunter’s descent was over in seconds, but, broken down into flashes and fragments, he
would have experienced it like this: free-floating disbelief, a headfirst lurch of gravity, spin-wheeling arms, a
rush of warm air and a cluttered floor turning cartwheels as it raced closer. He smashed through a Trident’s
windscreen, wrapped himself around the cockpit controls and passed out.
Xenon looked mournfully at the damage he had caused. ‘Have someone repair that Trident
immediately.’
‘And the intruder’
‘Bring him to the courtroom for interrogation… If he’s still alive.’
Haxian reappeared on the balcony. ‘Lord Xenon, we’ve detected a hypershuttle heading this way.’
‘Approaching orbit The first batch of Tridents has already been transferred to the Enslaver. Have
them treat the craft as hostile, but bring whoever’s inside to me. If they know the location of this base, I
want to know how.’ He turned to Rodern. ‘This is a sign, you know. It’s starting.’
On board the stolen Autobot hypershuttle: