The Transdyne Awakening by Chris Betts Read Free Book Online Page A

dangerous. They had to be taken out of the equation entirely in order to preserve stability. His father never used the word government. All of this was necessary he said, so as to maintain what he called ordered ‘governance’.
    The turning point for Ahab had come as he had witnessed a “G” session. He had been standing with his father on the walkway above the killing floor. It had been in total darkness as they took their positions. The overhead lighting had flickered on, revealing row after row of mechanized guillotine devices. From this elevated position he had sight of the entire cavernous area. In front of each row of machines a deep trench ran down the entire length of the chamber. The large side doors rolled back on their castors and a long line of prisoners were forced into the arena by their Polibro guards. It was obvious to Ahab that the victims had been drugged to render them docile. They were easily brought before the machines and beaten to a kneeling position. Each man’s head was pushed into place and secured with a strap. At the sound of a loud buzzer he had seen the guards step away from the machinery. There was a deafening hiss as five hundred blades fell simultaneously. Each man’s head was severed cleanly from his body and fell forward into the catchment trench. A dark river of human blood flowed down the trench to the drains at the end of the chamber. He would never forget the deep gurgling of that bloody river. The guards stepped forward and bent to their grisly work. The headless corpses were thrown onto big, flatbed terraglides. The monstrous transports moved slowly to accommodate the pace of the clearing crews. In front of the machines, other guards collected heads, throwing them into deep trolleys, which they moved forward on wheels. They were cheerful as they went about their hellish labour. Ahab had watched, stunned. These were dreadful tasks that could have been assigned to droneclone class Trans. It slowly dawned on him that these men actually seemed to be enjoying their ghoulish assignment. The updraught of disinfectant-scented air reached where he stood, crouched over the railings on the lofty walkway. Along with the stink, it carried the crews’ hateful comments about their victims. When the deathly harvest was complete, the crew turned on high pressure sprays. Jets of water washed over the tiled floors, carrying away the remaining debris of execution. The drain ports drank away all traces of this mass killing. The slow moving terraglides with their gruesome cargo disappeared through the open doors at the far end of the building. The high-pressure hoses spluttered and went limp, ceasing their cleansing rain. The tiles glistened under the strong lights. The men filed out of the deathly arena and their footsteps died away to silence; terrible silence. The events of that day had changed Ahab’s life forever. Everything he had been conditioned to accept started to fall away from him. He had been sickened. If his father could endorse and preside over this, then he knew he would never follow him into any kind of political office. If this was the machinery of ‘governance’, then he would take no further part in it.
    The Ahab that Clay knew was born that same day.
    Clay was always amazed at the stuff Ahab surrounded himself with. He knew most of the items of art or sculpture were way outside his range. He could work for a lifetime and still not be able to possess such handsome objects. In the corner stood what looked like an early domestic robot. Ahab looked up from his screens and immediately picked up Clay’s curiosity. There weren’t many things that could distract Ahab from checking profits, but he was always delighted when anyone showed interest in his unusual collection of historica.
    “Robot?” Clay inquired.
    “No, no!” said Ahab, rising from the couch. “It’s an armoured suit worn by ancient soldiers.”
    Clay looked quizzically at him. Ahab joined him before the shiny