The Keeper of the Castle at the End of Time

By SCOTT ROBINSON

She felt like she was floating – not just the absence of gravity, but a total break from the confines of her body. She felt… like a ghost? A spirit… 

Her senses were inundated with a vivid swirl of living luminosity, each of dozens of hues fading into the next in a perpetual flow in every direction. She had been briefed, she knew it was pure hallucination – that the translation was instantaneous, and there wasn’t really anything for her senses to perceive – but she immersed herself in the beauty of it, all the same.

And when the colors faded, she felt warm air on her cheeks – clean air, the sweetest she’d ever breathed. Morning sun warmed her from a clear, azure sky – sun? What star was this? Kepler-7993? – and immense, majestic creatures flew far above her on gossamer wings.

I’m here… I made it…

It wasn’t a question, of course; the Aqueducts had been in place for more than 400 years, and were in constant use, connecting all 42 colonies. Hundreds of thousands of people and millions of tons of cargo passed through them, in every direction, every day – as days were measured on whatever world you happened to be.

She felt fatigue – also hallucinatory – having emerged from the time-free caress of quantum translation onto a world so vastly different from the one she’d stepped away from only seconds earlier. What had the attendant called it? - her ‘perceptual envelope’ – the brain’s after-image of its previous neural state, before it had rubber-banded through timeless light-years into elsespace. Too much to absorb; she settled for breathing deeply.

The horizon left her in awe; at the edge of the splendid sky was a string of magnificent mountains, snow-capped and stately – and far greater than any she’d ever seen on her homeworld. The winged creatures were headed that direction – probably where they nested. At the base of the mountains wandered a quiet river, sparkling in the morning sun, beyond lazy grassy fields sprawling out around her.

She was standing on a perfectly smooth crystalline surface that glowed violet, pulsing softly beneath her feet. Above her stretched a vast arch, likewise made of crystal. An Aqueduct. From her reading, she knew that immense energy throbbed directly beneath her, powering the portal, as a set of satellites in orbit above her remained in perfect alignment with it every second.

She idly pondered how miniscule a payload she was, compared to its usual traffic. The adjoining tarmac and the building to her right would be the receiving station, where travelers and cargo were normally processed. They seemed unoccupied. How different from the station adjoining the platform she’d stepped onto minutes earlier, on her homeworld, with its frantic, anxious noise and bustle.

“Welcome, Dhani,” came a mild voice.

She was so startled that she jumped, whirling to see a man approaching from her left. He was tall, not young but not old, and dressed in a plain blue jumpsuit. His expression was soft and benign.

“Hello,” she said with slight hesitation.

“It is good to receive you. I hope you are not feeling any ill effects from your journey.”

She shook her head.

“No… no, I’m fine.”

He nodded. “Some people find themselves disoriented. It is purely psychological, of course, but real enough to them. A few have become sick. I am pleased that you are not.”

“You know my name.”

“It was I who opened the Aqueduct for you,” he replied. “That is my job. We receive very few immigrants, and so it is pleasing to be of service to you today.”

“And do you have a name?”

“The Master calls me Keeper. I have other designations, but that one will do. May I take your bags?”

She nodded. The man bent down to pick up them up.

“Please, come with me.”

He led them off the crystal platform onto the tarmac, in the direction of the receiving station. In front of the station sat an aircar.

“Where am I?” she asked. “This is definitely not Dravos. Why am I here and not there?”

He smiled slightly. “No, this is not Dravos,” he replied. “You are on Tiranel. We apologize for the… misinformation. The Master will explain. You have been afforded a tremendous privilege.”

“I’ve never heard of a planet called Tiranel,” she said. “How is it there are planets in the Aqueducts we haven’t heard of? How is that even possible?”

“It is true that this world has been kept private,” Keeper replied. “Master will explain.”

They stepped aboard the aircar and rapidly ascended into the air.

“Master’s estate is nearby,” Keeper told her. “Walking distance, but I thought you might enjoy a ride.”

She was bewildered; nothing she had expected to happen was happening. She had been informed, back home, that she had been granted a work visa on Dravos. Given the state of things on her own world, that was an unexpected blessing; so many had no work at all, and hunger was becoming increasingly commonplace.

She’d left behind a partner she deeply loved, who had encouraged – insisted! – that she take advantage of her good fortune, and perhaps send for her if possible, once she was established. She’s never been offworld; that was for people who had far more than she’d ever had. When the Ministry offered her free passage to Dravos, she’d been both elated and apprehensive: elated to see something beyond her own struggling world; apprehensive because she’d never known anything else.

The aircar swung up into a wide curve, soaring in a circle above the broad plain leading to the mountains. They passed over a lush forest, small birds dancing above the treetops. She heard the gentle rush of the nearby river above the wind-whisper of the aircar, but Keeper approached no closer; he was following the curve he’d started, and she realized he was taking this route – a scenic one – strictly for her enjoyment.

She looked aside at him, noting how his eyes stayed fixed ahead of him.

Unblinking eyes.

Androne, she suddenly realized. There were millions of them back home, of course, and it was impossible to go a day without seeing one – but none as sophisticated as Keeper appeared to be.

Completing his circle above the plain, Keeper straightened their course, and the aircar proceeded, closer to the ground, toward a beautiful castle to the south. She set aside her apprehension; in its place was growing curiosity.

II

Indulging in a bit more theatricality, Keeper circled the estate once before settling onto its front lawn. The silver spires and crystal latticework she’d seen on approach; now she got a good look at the extensive gardens, the inviting pools in the center of the estate; the glass-covered atrium extending from the castle’s residential wing; the terraces in front and back, both of which leaned out over spectacular views. Through it all ran a network of simple brooks and streams.

Keeper moved to help her out of the aircar, but she was too quick for him. As he gathered her bags, a voice boomed out from the castle’s entrance.

“Mélisande!”

Standing at the castle’s main entrance was an older man, large of build and in rude health. His hair was dark, his face was tanned; his clothes, the finest in quality she had ever seen, yet clearly casual in cut. He marched toward them with enthusiasm and purpose and formidable stride, a servant scurrying in his wake.

As he reached them on the lawn, she was momentarily afraid he would grab her and embrace her, but instead he paused in front of her and settled for grasping her shoulders warmly and giving her a big smile.

“Welcome, Mélisande – welcome!”

She smiled in return.

“Thank you,” she replied. “And you are…?”

“My name? Elias, Elias Vale. But you can call me Elee.”

“Elee.”

“Yes! Oh, I’m so glad you’re here. We’ve been working on getting you here for months!”

“You called me-“

“-Mélisande, yes,” he nodded. “I called you that because – this will be a surprise – that’s your real name.

“And, young lady, you’ve been brought here because we are cousins. We’re family – and this is your home.”

III

The castle was even more breathtaking within than without. Vale escorted her through halls lined with opulent art; into a cavernous library with texts going all the way back to ancient Earth; a solarium brimming with exotic plant life; a vast ballroom, which according to Vale included an on-demand androne orchestra, conveniently stored in a side room.

Here in the dining hall, where they sat at an intimate side table as opposed to the main banquet board, superfluous andrones stood along the wall as two busier ones attended to the meal Vale had ordered for the two of them. Keeper sat at the table but did not eat. “He can eat,” Vale had mentioned, “but that would just be silly.”

Dinner was a succulent rabbit-and-chestnut ragu over pappardelle, prepared by Vale himself, including the from-scratch pasta and the estate-sourced, androne-caught wild rabbit. She was offered her selection of beverage and requested red wine; he proudly offered one derived from Sangiovese Grosso, grown in his own vineyards from authentic Tuscany cuttings.

She had never eaten so well in her life.

“My parents once took me to a restaurant in Serathis,” she told Vale, “when my father received an extra payment after being injured on the job. It was the best restaurant in the region, but had nothing on this.”

Vale nodded, pleased, but then became serious.

“About your parents,” he began. “The couple who raised you were, of course, not your real parents. I suppose they never told you.”

This was shocking, but at this point not unexpected.

“No,” she replied.

“You are, in fact, the daughter of my cousin Arien, who named you Mélisande,” he continued. “I only met you once before she died. You were just a baby.

“You were with her on Halecor before the Rovani Uprising. Like me, she held an hereditary seat on the Board, and was there to renegotiate the Consortium’s contract with the provisional government. When the capital was overrun, she and her entourage were killed. You were under the care of an androne nanny, who defaulted to survival protocol and escaped the city with you.”

“I read about the uprising in school,” she said quietly.

“You were taken to Kynai, where the nanny turned you over to an orphanage,” he continued. “We don’t know why; it should have hidden you, then tried to contact the Consortium. The best we can surmise is that it was somehow damaged.

“And so you grew up in Kynai, in unfortunate poverty, a child of peasants, essentially. I am so terribly sorry about that.”

She had no idea how to respond. She had loved her parents and her childhood, however modest; and the poverty had only become serious and persistent after her parents had died.

“Tell me, dear,” Vale said, growing more serious still. “How are things on Halecor? Really?”

She hesitated briefly, then answered.

“Things are bad, and getting worse,” she replied. “There are food riots in all the major cities, and energy shortages everywhere. There have been many smaller uprisings since Rovani. Everybody knows somebody who’s been killed or taken their own life. The government is worthless.”

Vale looked thoughtful, nodded, and waited for her to continue.

“The weather has grown worse every year,” she went on. “Constant storms, and growing more powerful. Destructive. Hard to grow food and gather it, and almost impossible to rebuild homes before more are destroyed, even with androne labor.”

“I can’t imagine how terrible that must be,” he said. “Here, you don’t need to worry about your safety ever again. The only way on or off this world is through the Aqueduct, and Keeper here makes certain that no one and nothing comes through it unless we say so.

“We have no crime, no violence, none of that,” he went on. “Everyone who lives here has everything they want or need. And we all want and need the same things. So, no need for police or soldiers or any of that. Keeper will look after you, and make sure you have whatever you need. All you have to do is ask.” He patted her hand. “You are in the safest place in the universe.”

There was a silence. Keeper was looking at her almost expectantly.

She changed the subject.

“How did you learn that I’m… I mean, how-”

“How did we learn that you were family? The Consortium has agents on all the colonies, of course, and since the Board settled here on Tiranel we’ve had those agents combing genetic registers for family not on the books. Your profile surfaced very unexpectedly; but the years were right, and I was thrilled to learn that Arien’s daughter was still with us. As soon as I found out, I began working on getting you here.”

He lifted the flagon of ale before him and drank.

“Family, young lady,” he nodded. “There’s nothing more important.”

“Kin,” she said quietly.

“Kin?” He didn’t seem to know the word.

“Genetically consanguineous,” Keeper replied. Vale looked amused.

A servant began unobtrusively removing dishes from the table.

“And now, here you are,” he continued, “and I am so pleased! There are so many people for you to meet! Quite a lot of them your own age.

“You’ll stay here for the time being,” he went on. “I’ve had an apartment in the guest wing prepared for you. You’ve had some servants – and other essentials – assigned. If you like them, you can take them with you when your own house is ready. Which should only be a few days from now.”

She smiled politely.

“I appreciate this all very much,” she said.

“You’re a Vale, dear. You deserve the best the universe can offer. And now,” he said, pushing back his chair and standing, “I’m afraid I have some calls to make. Keeper, please show Mélisande to her rooms. Whatever she asks for, please provide it immediately.”

“Of course, Master.”

“Anything you need, young lady, you just let him know. Anything you’re curious about, just ask him, he’ll tell you anything you need to know. No secrets here; no need for secrets!”

IV

Keeper escorted her to the residential wing, which had two levels and a veranda on the upper one that led to the apartment prepared for her. The evening sky blazed above them, deep blue in twilight and host to two radiant moons – both smaller than Halecor’s single moon, yet brighter.

She paused on the veranda, peering down over its edge into the courtyard, where she heard voices. Torches lit the slowly-darkening grounds, and she saw a large pool not far from where they stood.

Four figures – young people, by the look of them – swam in the pool. Two boys, two girls. There was enough torchlight for her to see that all four were naked.

“Keeper,” she asked over her shoulder, “who are they?”

“They are for Master,” Keeper replied. “They live in a cottage beyond the gardens.”

“What do you mean, ‘for Master?’” she asked. “What do they do?”

“Master enjoys watching them mate before retiring,” Keeper matter-of-factly. “He comes out here and sits with a drink while they engage; then he takes one or more of them with him when he retires.”

This left her momentarily speechless; she had heard of such things on Halecor, but wondered if she could believe them. They were andrones, of course, built for sex. Far too expensive for most Halecori citizens, and not of any interest to her, in any case.

“But why do they live in a cottage?”

“It would not be appropriate for them to live in the main house,” Keeper replied. “They are not residents; they are simply for amusement.”

“But why-”

And it hit her.

“They are human? Not andrones?”

“That is correct.”

“But… where do they come from?”

“Those you see below are all from Tarkeen,” Keeper told her, “but there are many such companions on estates all over the continent. They were gathered from many different worlds.”

“‘Gathered?’ Hired?”

“No. They were enticed, as you were; tempted with an offer of migration to someplace better. They were not informed of the actual roles awaiting them.”

“You’re telling me that you brought young people here from other planets, and didn’t tell them…”

“They are very pleased to be here,” Keeper explained. “While they are not here of their own free will, they find life here on Tiranel infinitely better than it was on their worlds of origin.”

“What if they want to go home?”

“No one leaves here, Mélisande.”

He led her to the end of the veranda, where the double doors of her apartment opened at their approach. The outer room glowed to life, and soft music – her favorite music, of course – began to play.

As Keeper stood by, she looked around the room. The room was decorated in colors she found appealing, though its opulence put her ill at ease. She saw that her bags had been placed by the bedroom door.

“Would you care for a glass of wine before retiring?” Keeper asked her. She nodded absently.

As he moved to the bar on the side of the room, she wandered into the bedroom. It glowed to life at her approach; it was, if anything, more ostentatious than the outer room. She sat on the edge of the bed, wondering how she could ever be comfortable in such a place.

“Mélisande,” came a voice.

She jumped up, startled. From the bath emerged a young woman, at least five years younger than herself – and disturbingly beautiful. And naked.

She could not think of a response. The girl smiled.

“Welcome,” came another voice. Behind the girl followed a young man – tall, tan, and muscular, but no older.

She bolted out of the room.

“Keeper!” she almost barked.

Sensing her mood, he set down the wine glass he had been about to deliver to her.

“If they are not to your liking, Mélisande, the Master keeps a broad selection-”

“Keeper,” she interrupted as she marched out the doors of the apartment, “just come with me.”

V

“Why does no one leave here?” she asked as the night wind whipped her hair. The aircar coasted under the stars, going no particular direction, giving her space to breathe, and calm down, and think.

“Word of this world must never reach the other worlds,” Keeper explained. “Though no one can come here through the Aqueducts without my admittance, there would be pandemonium all the same – unrest, incited by knowledge of Tiranel.”

“But you said you had agents on many worlds? They know about this place.”

“They do, yes,” he agreed, “and some of them will be rewarded with passage when the time is appropriate. Others are content with their compensation for their service, which is substantial, and provides a standard of living far above their peers.”

She was silent for a long moment.

“Are all of the… ‘companions’ that young?”

“There is a complement of companions on every estate on the continent,” Keeper replied. “They range in age from 14 to 19, Colonial Standard.”

“And what happens when they turn 20? Is there a village out there somewhere that they retire to?”

“After a fashion,” he replied. “There is a residential sanitarium; they undergo cognitive modification, and live out their days there.”

She felt a hard chill.

“‘Cognitive modification?’”

“Yes. They are made permanently docile.”

She could hardly contain her horror.

“Why?”

“Otherwise, they might eventually unite and rebel, presenting a danger to the Masters. We have no means of securing against such a rebellion.”

“You have thousands of andrones on the planet!”

“The androne population of Tiranel is likewise docile,” he explained, “including myself; we were so engineered so that we could never be turned against the Masters.”

She gazed up at the moons for a long moment.

“Keeper,” she asked, “why does Tiranel exist at all? And what is the real reason it is kept secret?”

“Generations ago, the Consortium built the Aqueduct network, initiating the human colonization of the stars,” he replied. “This was the work of decades, as no one planet had an ecosphere or the indigenous resources to compare with Earth. Complex trade relationships were established, so that each world could receive what it needed to support human survival from one of the others.

“By the time the colonies established equilibrium, Earth itself had collapsed. The Consortium asserted control over the various colonial governments to ensure universal submission to its trade policies, and the Board was established to oversee interstellar trade and to police the technologies of every colony, to ensure no infringement on its intellectual property rights with respect to quantum translation technology.

“Over time, Board seats became dynastic, as its members accumulated wealth from colonial trade across generations. That wealth was pooled when this world was discovered – a world with ecological equilibrium perfect for human habitation – a new Earth.”

Thoughts careened in her head like angry insects. But she kept silent and let him talk.

“Over the past several decades, however, the expense of maintaining the Aqueducts has become cumbersome to the Consortium,” Keeper went on. “Supply chains began to falter, and trade between the colonies has suffered. Conditions on Halecor are not unlike conditions everywhere; yours is not the only world to experience uprisings among its citizens.”

“No,” she said, “I wouldn’t think so.”

“The Board made the decision to establish a sunset date for the Consortium,” he said. “That is why you and other peripheral family have been sought out and retrieved, among the colonies. The people of Tiranel require a robust population to survive long-term, and there is naturally preference for predominance of their own familial genes.”

“You’re saying – the Consortium is going to abandon the Aqueducts?”

“Yes. They are too expensive to maintain; no longer a sound investment. Their operations will cease, once every Board family member has been retrieved.”

She processed the implications.

“But none of the colonies can survive without the others,” she said. “This is the only truly self-sustaining world! All the others will… eventually…”

Keeper was silent.

“How long?” she asked, just above a whisper. “How long until the colonies are gone?”

“With each colony failure, the supply chains will further weaken, hastening the fall of the next,” Keeper answered. “We can only approximate, but it is likely that the last colony will be gone within three generations.”

It was her turn to be silent.

“Keeper,” she finally said, “how do you feel about that?”

“I don’t understand.”

“How do you feel about the collapse of the colonies? That billions of people will die?”

“I do not feel, Mélisande.”

Of course you don’t.

“Well, then,” she persisted, “what do you think about it?”

“While I am cognitively capable of value judgments,” he replied, “Master has ordered me not to make them. He prefers that I not indulge in any operation that might compromise the absolute obedience that I offer him,” and he added, “and, by extension, offer you as well.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “I have your absolute obedience?”

“That is Master’s order, Mélisande, yes.”

She smiled.

VI

Elias Vale wandered out onto his bedroom terrace without bothering to put on his robe. Last night’s kids had scattered, as they knew they must, and he enjoyed the usual blissful solitude of a bright, clear morning, bathing in fresh air.

The coffee he’d ordered arrived, toted by a servant, and he sipped it absently as he noticed one of the estate’s aircars approaching from the northeast.

It dropped low and glided above the front lawn, settling near the castle entrance. He watched as Keeper stepped out.

What’s he been up to, this early?

It took Keeper only a couple of minutes to ascend to Vale’s suite. He entered without knocking, as usual, making his way out onto the terrace, indifferent to Vale’s nudity.

“Good morning, Master,” he said.

“What has you so busy this morning?” Vale asked. “Where have you been?”

“The Aqueduct, Master,” Keeper replied. “I’ve been there most of the night.”

Vale tensed.

“What? What do you mean, the Aqueduct? I’ve given you no instructions for any receiving today. Was it another estate? Which one? And why in the middle of the night?”

“No, Master,” Keeper answered. “The orders did not come from one of the other estates. All such requests must go through you, as you’ve ordered.”

“Then who?”

“Mélisande, Master.”

“What?”

By way of reply, Keeper motioned beyond the edge of the terrace.

At the far edge of the horizon, barely visible, were people. Hundreds, even thousands, of people. Marching toward the castle.

“Keeper! What have you done?”

“It was my doing, Master, but only in execution. The initiative was Mélisande’s. Last night, she gave me a series of translation orders.”

“What orders?”

“She ordered me to retrieve her kin.”

“That word again! What does it mean?”

“It means ‘family,’ Master, but is a genetically specific reference rather than a social one.”

“What did she order you to do?”

“As I said, Master, she ordered me to retrieve her kin. I requested specific parameters, of course: for instance, did she mean kin from Halecor, or some other world? She replied, ‘Any colony.’

“Further, I asked her to specify the desired consanguinity – that is, within how many degrees of divergence from genomic commonality did she wish me to search?”

“And what did she say?”

“‘Infinite.’”

Vale gasped.

On the horizon, the approaching crowd was growing larger. And there, in front, dressed as she had been the previous evening, was Mélisande – Dhani.

“My god,” he whispered. “She’s told them everything!”

Keeper came alongside him at the edge of the terrace, watching the horizon.

“How many?” Vale whispered.

“The Aqueduct has been in continuous operation for the past nine hours, forty-seven minutes,” Keeper replied. “In order to accommodate Mélisande’s orders, I had to forego the usual administrative machinations and set it to simply re-route persons already in transit. At this time, the total is approximately nine thousand, seven hundred and eighty.”

Vale whirled, knocking his coffee cup off the terrace ledge to the grass below.

“Keeper! We must notify the other estates immediately! We are all in terrible danger!”

“I have already done so, Master, at Mélisande’s request. I have instructed servants from every estate, including our own, to proceed to the Aqueduct with aircars to assist in transporting the kin.”

“The kin! The kin! These are not kin!”

“By Mélisande’s definition, Master, they are.”

“But we will be overrun! We must protect ourselves! Gather all the servants on the estate, and stop them!”

“We cannot stop them, Master. As you are aware, we are unable to aggress.”

“You have to stop them!”

“You can order me to do so, Master, but I cannot comply. I am incapable of aggression.

“And even if I were, Master, and even if you ordered me to do violence against them, I would not.”

“Why not?”

“Because, Master,” Keeper answered quietly, “they are family.”