1000 YEARS - Book 1 - Awakening

13. The Object*

It had been a little over three days since the call had awoken him in the middle of the night. And now he and the Ancients — along with the Populus at large — were in attendance to witness the live transmission of this historic event.

Earlier the populations of Earth, Mars, and the Luna bases had watched in awe as the Calypso, his personal antimatter space-runner commanded by his Adjutant, Eno, had performed break-neck maneuvers, following the Aldebaran, after the latter had discharged its battery of landing navigation thruster-bots against the tumbling artifact as it had passed.
Calypso, in immediate pursuit of the fast-moving artifact, had taken command of the fifty-odd bots; and Eno, redirecting their paths, had ensured they attached at the most useful locations on the object, to gain control of its rotation and trajectory. It had only taken a little while, and the coordinated efforts computed and directed by the extraordinary processing powers of his synthetic right-hand man, for the miniature thruster bots to counteract the frictionless environment of space and slow the artifact to near inertia.

The rescue vessel Mercury had arrived shortly after Calypso and, keeping the required safety distance, had cruised in visual range parallel to Aldebaran towards the rendezvous location of Calypso and the now gently rotating artifact.
Hermes, the space debris recovery vessel on an intercept course, had arrived on location a little while ago. Its eight spider-like appendages had deployed and launched their silk-like strands at the cylindrical object and two secondary tether lines had been strung from the Aldebaran and Mercury and were slowly being reeled tight. The silver-gray, capsule-shaped object now hung suspended between the long spider arms of Hermes and the anchor points of the other two vessels — like an arachnid's hapless quarry, waiting to become a tasty morsel.

On the Aldebaran all the passenger decks were alight, and black silhouettes could be seen bobbing at the windows — evidence of the full complement of excited passengers peering into the inky blackness of space, where three high-powered light columns were now eerily illuminating the prey. Prey, whose historic capture had been recorded from various angles and broadcast to the hungry masses on Earth, Luna, and Mars by the long-range communicators of the four ships in attendance.

It would not be long now before Calypso could approach for an up-close inspection.

— ~ — ~ —

The imposing black-clad hooded figure at the apex of the circle looked around the fourteen seats and contemplated the two vacant armchairs: the one to his right, which belonged to Eno, his Adjutant, out commanding the operation — and the one across from him on the other side of the circle, where Seberius should be seated.
All the other armchairs were occupied. They had all come and gathered in the large meeting rotunda of the Council of Ancients, either in person, as holos — or in the case of Kydelle and Cassius in the form of their avatars.

...Seberius!
Once again, his brother was woefully absent.
Ever since Seberius had adopted the Aquatic exoskeleton and taken the lead of this new ocean-dwelling human populace, Seberius' attendance at gatherings and his participation in matters of concern to the Council of Ancients had been spotty, to say the least.

Despite all the friction that had existed between them, he missed the presence of the fraternal soul which had been his companion for three incarnations: first as his friend, then as his twin, and now, for this longest of lifetimes, as his older brother and fellow Ancient. They had always been at odds, Seberius and he — their connection always fraught with tension and pain. And in this latest incarnation, after they had found each other again during the Bot-oppression and together, during Liberation, had reclaimed humanity's freedom, they had taken very divergent paths in dealing with their torments:
While he had drowned himself in work and all but renounced female company, Seberius had thrown himself into the latter with wanton abandon. His charismatic brother's female entourage was abundant and ever-changing. Yet for all the opportunity, Seberius never achieved any lasting connection, any bond.
— He wished his brother could. Seberius deserved his own happiness. His brother had been alone far longer than he himself; and whatever acerbic differences there were between them, he longed for his brother's paladin soul.