Chapter Eighteen: Training a Guardian
Tristan woke. His head throbbed, and with a groan he opened his eyes, squinting against the light. He found himself in a small but pleasant room, lying on a bed. He rubbed his eyes, but he had no memory of going to bed the night before. Strange... Sunlight streamed through open curtains. In the far corner sat a chair with neat, dark green clothes folded on it, and underneath the chair a pair of dark green boots that matched the clothes.
Tristan sat up and swung his legs round so he could stand. He tried to remember where he was, vague indistinct memories tumbled in his memory like autumn leaves blowing in the wind. His family for countless generations had been Guardians. Now, he was old enough for his training to begin. The whole family had gathered at the space port to see him off.
The memory of his family proudly waving tumbled into his mind Why can’t I see their faces? He shook his head to clear it. He had a vague notion they were not really his, not part of him. A strange giddiness and whispering filled his mind. He shut his eyes as the room had started to waver, causing nausea to rise in his throat. He swallowed back the rising bile.
A light flashed. The moment of doubt passed. He laughed softly. He remembered his family waving him off. Looking round he noticed an open door on the far wall of the room; it led to a small bathroom. He went in, washed, shaved, and then returned to the bedroom. He picked up the clothes and put them on. Dressed he walked to the window and looked out. Manicured gardens gave way to meadows and woodlands. In the distance, he could see the tall towers of the great Guardian city of Troyantis.
He shivered, and butterflies launched themselves in his stomach. This was his first day of five years training. He opened the main door, and walked out into a long corridor. Other students were emerging. Some had collected in small groups along the corridor and were talking and laughing together. Tristan followed the gathering crowd, down some stairs, and out into an open area with fountains in the middle. People sat as couples or in groups, on seats scattered around under small trees A gentle breeze carrying the scent of late summer flowers ruffled his hair. They walked past the fountains to a large glass building, through the double doors to the registration area for new students.
He found his name badge, signed for it on the registration sheet, and handed the sheet to a bored-looking receptionist.
“Third door on the left, Tristan,” she said in a mechanical voice.
Tristan nodded and went through the door she had pointed out to him. He found himself in a classroom with about thirty or so desks all placed in pairs. He noticed that names had been placed on each desk. About half the students were already seated. There was a low buzz of conversation. No one took any notice of him as he walked in. He quickly found his place and sat down.
He gazed round at the other students, and many of them knew each other. A pang of homesickness gripped him. For a moment, he felt detached from the others in the room. He looked down at his hands resting on the desk. What am I doing here?
“Hello.” Tristan looked up. A young, dark-haired woman stood in front of him. “I think that is my seat.” She indicated the empty chair next to him.
“Oh OK.” He moved his chair forward so she could get past and sit down. She turned to look at Tristan and smiled. She had a radiant smile, which lit up her whole face, and her dark eyes seemed to shine. She leaned forward to put her bag beside her chair. Tristan noticed she had the first few buttons of her blouse undone, revealing an ample cleavage.
She looked up, her eyes sparkling. “Like what you see?”
Tristan’s cheeks burned, and he wished the floor would open up and swallow him. He stammered an apology.
She laughed. “Hey, don’t look so worried, I was only teasing you. My name is Dionysia, what’s yours?” She held out a slim hand to Tristan.
He took a deep breath hoping his burning cheeks did not look as bad as they felt and shook her hand. “My name is Tristan.”
“Well hello, Tristan. It looks as though we will be working together.”
There was a scraping of chairs. The back of the class had started to stand. An officer had entered the room. Tristan and Dionysia stood as he walked to the front, stepped up to a podium, and faced them. He made a signal with his hand for them all to be seated. There followed a rustling and more scraping of chairs as the class sat down. The instructor, an old, balding man, gazed at them all with piercing eyes. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Guardian Training Centre. I am Thorientius, your chief instructor, and I will be with you throughout your stay with us.
“Over the next five years, you will all be pushed to the limit. Have no illusions, there will be many of you who will fall by the wayside; however, you have been prepared for this since you were five years old, so you are all capable of succeeding if you persevere and work hard.”
He gazed around the room again almost as if he were assessing who would succeed and who would fail. “You must remember the basic principle of what being a Guardian means. Anyone…?” He paused. A student near the back raised her hand. “Yes Alexia?”
“A Guardian is to serve and protect the younger races.”
“Correct, Alexia, thank you.” His piercing eyes swept the room again.
“You will work in pairs throughout your training. You have been allocated your seating so the person next to you is the person you will spend the next five years training with. If you both survive the course, you will be posted out together and spend the rest of your working lives as a team. Your partner has been selected as the closest possible psychological match to you.”
Tristan took a sidelong glance at Dionysia. Well, it could have been a whole lot worse.
The students were pushed hard. Most nights Tristan collapsed on his bed totally exhausted. The first year, they were trained in using the artificial intelligences hidden deep underground on the home worlds of the main species. They had been installed before the genetically modified beings gained prominence, each AI self-maintaining machine powered from the planet’s thermonuclear core. Their working and locations were kept a closely guarded secret by the shadowy Artificial Intelligence Sciences Guild, the only way into or out of each computer facility by matter transfer, a technique that required massive computing power only available to the planetary computers.
They learned that the primary role of the AI was as a backup and monitoring system. Their bunkers were designed as a base and living quarters for the Guardians assigned to a planetary sector. Each AI had access to avatars normally linked directly to the main core, but capable of independent action if necessary. They were used for interaction with the Guardians and with non-telepathic species if the Guardian required a physical backup. As an offshoot to the matter transfer, the AI could produce anything the Guardian required as long as its structure and form were held within the database. If a Guardian had a complete functional diagram of an object, it could be added to the database. One important feature was that the AI could enhance the telepathic power of the Guardian it was linked to.
Tristan had asked why all the Planetary AI's had female personalities. The official answer being, male personalities would go unstable after a few hundred years or so. The female personalities, however, remained stable indefinitely.
Dionysia had whispered real reason. “Females can do more than two things at once!”
The second year they spent learning about the genetically constructed species and their history. Why it was done was never discussed, the reason apparently lost in the mists of time. They went through the genetic makeup and the differences of each species. They studied how the ancestors genetically modified the planetary life forms using Lantian genes to produce intelligent beings. All the different species are sterile between one another. To control populations, the constructs reproductive life cycle had been limited to ten years. However, it was not the case between a Lantian and the other species because their genetic makeup closely matched Lantian. Because of that Lantian’s were more closely related to them than they were to each other.
The instructor glared at them over his glasses. “One thing you must all remember: a union between a Lantian, and one of the synthetic species, is strictly forbidden. The genetically constructed life forms do not evolve; they are designed to stay as they were constructed. This is to prevent any of the constructs growing more powerful than us. A random hybrid produced from such a union would not have that limitation. It would be a dangerous and unacceptable wild card that must be hunted out and destroyed.”
When this subject was discussed, Tristan became uneasy. He ran through his memories, trying to discover the source of his disquiet, but found nothing.
The armour and weapons training came next. The AIs used the same matter transport technology to produce weapons and armour for the Guardians. The armour impressed Tristan. It enhanced the strength of the wearer. When linked to weapons, the helmet had a head-up display. The cooling was effective enough to disperse even heavy laser fire. The armour could also be made airtight, and with an air supply it functioned as an effective vacuum suit. The really neat part was how the armour could be folded. The suit was capable of being folded away a section at a time until the whole thing became no more than a thick, wide belt.
Any weapon the Guardian required, the AI could produce and make available immediately. One advantage being a Guardian did not need to carry heavy weapons with them. If a power unit started getting low during use the AI could replace it immediately.
Students were given an exercise to design and specify a weapon in their minds. Most trainees plumped for simple hand-held lasers, battle staff or stabbing weapons, as the AI already had the detailed design in its memory. Tristan; however, thought up a new weapon. When he was asked what made him think of it, he shrugged his shoulders; it had just come to him while he was asleep. When the day of the exercise came, Tristan held the design in his mind in as much detail as he could. In less than a minute, the weapon appeared in his hands. The armour he was wearing immediately linked with it to support the weight, and the servo systems linked the targeting to his helmet head-up display. The class was standing in a row facing down the weapon training range. Most had test fired their lasers at the targets.
Tristan pulled the trigger on his new weapon. The motor started immediately and began to turn the barrels with a loud whine. As soon as the correct speed was reached, a belt of ammunition was fed to the rotating barrels. The result was totally devastating. The lasers had burnt small holes into their respective targets. Tristan’s weapon fired hundreds of lead slugs in seconds through the rotating barrels. As Tristan swung the weapon at the whole line of targets, they were totally destroyed. A tree standing behind was turned to match wood. Tristan let go of the trigger and the loud noise ceased.
Dionysia clapped him on the back. “Well, I don’t know what made you think of a projectile weapon like that, but it was far more effective than any laser. I wouldn’t want to use it on a ship though.”
After five long, difficult, but enjoyable years, it came time for the final examinations. Tristan and Dionysia studied hard together, and they both passed with flying colours. The day of the passing out ceremony finally came. Tristan had mixed feelings about leaving to take up a position as the Guardian assigned to Sicceia. Still, as he and Dionysia had survived the years together, and they were being posted as a team it should work out all right.
At the end of the last day at the training centre, he sought out Dionysia. She was sitting alone just outside the main hall. She was crying softly. “What’s wrong?” Tristan asked, concerned.
She buried her head in her hands. “It was not meant to happen like this,” she sobbed in a muffled voice.
“What do you mean? What has happened, you can tell me, we are friends, a team.” This upset her more and she sobbed large, shuddering sobs. “Dionysia, what is wrong? Please tell me.” Tristan was growing concerned.
She raised her head and looked into his eyes. “It’s... it’s just that I have feelings and I shouldn’t be able to. It hurts!” It came out in a rush. He sat beside her, putting his arm around her shoulders. “Dionysia, we are being posted together, we have our whole lives before us, so I don’t understand.” He paused a moment. “Is there someone else you would rather be with?”
“For me there is no one else.” She sighed, her shoulders hunched. She spoke under her breath barely audible. “This is impossible, I don’t have emotions.” She straightened her back “Sorry Tristan, I’m just being silly. I’m tired now; we must sleep.” She turned away.
Tristan gripped her hand, she trembled and pulled away. “Good night Tristan.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Good night, Dionysia.”
Tristan woke as a bright artificial light filled the room. Dionysia was standing over him. He smiled and then sensed she was troubled. “What’s the matter?”
“It is time for you to remember,” she said. Memories jumbled in his mind. A moan broke from his lips.
“Who am I?” Nausea made him retch, and he swallowed, fighting it. “Quick I feel sick.” Dionysia handed him a bowl, and he sat up, his stomach heaving.
She stood waiting for the retching to subside “You are still the Tristan Taylor you remember, but with five extra years of experience slotted into your memory.”
“Have we been away for five years?”
Dionysia shook her head. “No, just one night.”
“But it seems like five years. How?”
“It’s complicated; your mind is five years older, but your body just one night.”
Tristan swung his legs round and tried to stand. He slumped back, holding his head in his hands as a wave of giddiness passed through him. “Oh my God, Aesia! It seems as though I have not seen her for five years!”
Dionysia shook her head and stroked his cheek with the back of her hand. “You have only been away one night, Tristan. She would not have changed.”
“It was so real.” Memories were jostling for position. He had difficulty identifying what was real and what was not.
“Don’t worry.” Dionysia squeezed his hand. “Things will fall into place and become clearer after a few hours.”
Tristan thought for a moment. “Why was it so real, with other students, instructors, and even survival training with you; why not just give me the facts?”
Dionysia sighed. “The Lantian psychologists found early on that just downloading facts causes the mind to reject them. The training program was assembled as an emergency backup and based on actual Guardian training. The AI was included so that everything could be monitored on a real time basis. Also, the AI was allowed some flexibility to alter the program as necessary to suit each person being trained. Past experiences and memories can also be adapted as required. At least you are now a fully trained Guardian and are equipped to handle the crisis you have found yourself in.”
Tristan looked round. He was in the same white room he had been in when Dionysia had brought him here five years ago. No, last night, he told himself. He closed his eyes and slowly stood. He felt queasy and swayed a little. Dionysia steadied him.
“I’m OK, I can stand.” The avatar stood back and looked at Tristan with concern on her face. “Dionysia, you show emotion very well for a machine.”
She took a step forward, putting a hand to his face. “Do you think so? I don’t know why. I have never had to do anything like that before and I… well I feel strange, Tristan. I fought against the interlock protocols in my programming for years, trying to gain independent control of my systems. I wanted to function even though there were no Guardians. Minor ones gave way but nothing important.”
Tristan narrowed his eyes as a memory slotted in place. “Dionysia, what about Tristain? Do you consider her a target for termination as we were taught during training?”
The avatar shook her head. “No! Remember Tristan, the training referred to Lantians, not genetically enhanced Guardians. A Guardian hybrid would never have existed because of the conditioning received during training. ”
“But that is splitting hairs. She is still a hybrid.”
Yes but there are a number of reasons why my sisters and I would not harm her. She lifted her hand, emphasising with her fingers. “First, except for you and maybe one or two others surviving in your human family, Guardians are extinct. Second, the reason to prevent the construct species from evolving no longer exists. Third, we, my sisters and I need the key in yours, and subsequently your descendant’s DNA, to function.”
The avatar stopped still for a moment as if she were listening to something. “Tristan, there is a problem you have to go now!”