Meltdown Ophilion - Book One

47_FORCE

The young Ophilion glanced nervously at each other; the 'necessary task' Arthur had mentioned was not what they had imagined. Without expecting it they found themselves at the very heart of the Order itself, facing the very people who were directly responsible for the fact that they were recruited by the Merenthaal in the first place. It was a bizarre state of affairs, but they were not afraid. Standing beside the Antarion they felt safe. And after accomplishing the 'Mission Underground' on their own, this was easy. They didn't even have to do any talking.

The twenty rulers of Kypro, who were laughing when the Merenthaal delegation entered, stopped and stared at the uninvited visitors. It took a few seconds for Greshon to formulate a response. "Who are you?" he asked in surprise.

"We are a delegation concerned with the protection of Ophilion," said Arthur seriously. "We are here to help."

"Help... what?" Greshon answered, still in shock at this unique intrusion.

"Help you – to avoid your deaths, and the deaths of millions of your fellow citizens in the com-zones of Ophilion." Arthur got right to the point; he had no time to waste and he was quite sure that no explanation would convince the ambitious prime rulers of their folly. He also had, at his disposal, the means to make them listen, and at this point he chose to use them.

A dark thought flashed in Greshon's mind. "Are you part of the conspiracy to destroy the explosives project?" He asked carefully.

"No," Arthur responded, "we are not here to destroy the explosives project; we are not permitted to interfere with your experiment. We are here to present information to the people of Ophilion; to all of the people."

The rulers stared in silence.

Arthur continued. "The quantol explosives tests will cause an iridonium-hexolium fusion. There will be multiple waves of radiation... and the com-zones will become death-zones within forty mec-tah after the tests."

Greshon began to laugh nervously, "Oh... oh, I see, but who decided to grace us with this comic relief when we were doing so well on our own. Is this some kind of practical joke?" He looked around the table. "Which one of you invited these... jesters?"

The rulers looked back in shocked silence.

"So, who are you? How did you get in here?"

"That's not important," Arthur said, "What is important is that the population of Ophilion must know what is happening; what you are planning. They must be given a chance to decide."

"Decide what?" Greshon was becoming seriously alarmed.

"Decide to leave the com-zones and save their lives," Arthur answered. "We will take care of them; and you as well, should you decide to leave."

Greshon discretely pressed the emergency button under the table. "In a very short amount of time a large contingent of guards will be here and you will regret that you ever thought of pulling this stunt."

"How are the guards going to get in?" Maria asked him. "I'm the one who locked the doors."

Greshon swallowed hard, looking from one intruder to the other, calculating. He opted for a change in tactics. "Okay, what do you want? Maybe you could be seated at our table and tell us your demands." Without warning and in a smooth practiced motion he pulled a weapon from under the table and fired a deadly energy beam at the leader of the group. The beam traveled through the air in a flash, aimed at Maria's chest. Greshon was a good shot under pressure.

Maria placed her hand forward before the beam could reach her and vaporized it.

The color drained from Greshon's face as the truth dawned on him. "You're the Merenthaal!" He rasped.