What the scud was he thinking?
“It is true,” the High Cleric continued, “that for centuries, such demons have walked among us. I would like nothing more than to tell you that I was ignorant of these unholy abominations until now, that it was only brought to my attention after my elevation to High Cleric of the Sanctum. But that would not be the truth. For nearly two decades, now, I have been on the forefront of the clandestine fight to banish this evil from our world. It has not been an easy fight. The demons are devious, their roots as persistent as they are pernicious. But we have fought on, nonetheless. Then came the raknoth, the beings some misguided spirits would have you believe are aliens from another galaxy, come to visit their fury on us for reasons unknown.”
He paused to look around at those gathered before him. “Aliens.” He shook his head—a slow, mournful gesture. “I have a better explanation. One which does not spit in the face of Alpha’s teachings.” A troubled look settled over his features. “One which I have lacked the courage to share from the beginning, for fear it would tear our beloved world apart. But Alpha has come to me in our time of need. He has shone his light that we might all find our way. And I know now what I must do.”
He licked his lips, gathering the courage to press on. My heart was thundering, not caring that this was a replay and that I already knew how it was going to end. It was almost worse, knowing the man on the screen was going to declare war by the end of this—like I already had the casualty list but was simply watching the footage for a more explicit look at the gory details of this slow motion tram wreck.
“The raknoth are not aliens. They are but the next stage of demonic evil, the harrowing test each and every one of us must now face for our collective transgressions in these troubled times.” The High Cleric dropped his gaze, bowing his head. “They are the punishment awoken by our failure to protect this world from evil. Because we have failed to protect you, my beloved Enochians. And for that, I am immeasurably sorry. Innocent blood has been spilled. Faithful lives ruined. This burden lies squarely on myself and the rest of the Sanctum, I do not deny it. But now we stand at a crossroads, hanging to the light by bare threads even as darkness threatens to swallow us whole.”
The High Cleric surveyed his flock, raising a solitary fist in a quiet show of power.
“I do not intend to let it be so, Enochia.”
I could practically feel his audience responding, shifting on their feet, leaning desperately in for the answers to the frightening world of problems he’d just splattered down at their feet.
“For too long has the Sanctum attempted to contain this darkness on its own. For too long have we let our own pride and honor convince us that it was the only way.” He looked back and forth, reeling the crowd in with his magnetic drama. “For far too long has evil roamed our streets, twisting and corrupting the minds of Alpha’s children to suit their unholy needs. Call them demons, call them raknoth, it matters little. By the Will of Alpha, they must be stopped.”
He paused—at first, I thought, simply to allow the surge of reverent cries and applause to settle, but then he gestured to someone off screen, and the vid cut to a feed featuring a dramatically spliced together montage of raknoth horrors. Monstrous hybrids flooding the streets of a dozen different cities, grabbing up helpless civilians, killing those who put up a fight. Black smoke rising from Oasis as scaly green forms swarmed its ramparts.
And through it all were flashes of Shaper mysticism—always visually startling, never in context. There was me inexplicably floating in midair at the Sanctum gallows, the noose hanging limp and useless around my neck. Me sailing through the air in an impossible leap from the great worship hall in Humility. There was Four conjuring a swirling firestorm around himself—I wasn’t sure where, but that hardly mattered.
My heart panged when a vid snippet of blood-crazed hybrids gave way to footage of Carlisle dropping into the Great Hall on a rain of shattered duraglass. Coming to save me. Coming to his death.
The High Cleric’s voice returned, speaking over the shocking footage as the montage continued.
“I will not tell you to belay your fear, my children, for these are fearful times, even for the most faithful of Alpha’s servants. What I plead is that you do not forsake hope in these dark times. Yes, we have strayed. But it is only when the night is dark and our feet have lost the path that we are offered the chance to find our way back. To find redemption.”
If I’d been breathing at all, I stopped when the vid montage cut to footage from earlier that very day at the tavern. I watched in horrid fascination as, through the chaotic sea of limbs, the shaky videographer caught snippets of me blurring from attacker to attacker faster than seemed possible, always in motion, sending a steady stream of civilians crashing into furniture or walls or floors all around me.
I didn’t look human.
Which was exactly what the High Cleric intended to communicate, I realized, as the vid finally cut back to him in the Great Hall. His expression was that of a parent who’d just had the sad but necessary task of revealing to his children that the family pet had died in the night.
“Our world lies in the clutches of darkness,” he continued, “and for too long has the Sanctum stubbornly ignored our only true hope at resolving this conflict. But Alpha has shown me. Which is why I’ve come here today to ask for your help, Enochia. Today, I ask you to take up the call. Together, let us finish this war we have too long kept hidden, too few in number to properly see through. Together, let us bring an end to these fearful times, that we might find our way back to Alpha’s Grace.”
The crowd was tensed. On the hook, but not quite ready to burst. They sensed what was coming. Sensed it, and welcomed it. A fresh world, free from the evils that’d had the collective planet ducking for cover these past seasons, rightfully worried that each and every day could be the last for them and their families.
I felt sick.
The High Cleric spread his hands wide, reaching as if to envelop his flock across all the world.
“Together,” he called, “let us banish from our world the demons, and the raknoth, and all else that would seek to turn us from the light.”
Cheers spilled forth in a tidal wave that built and built until the High Cleric finally fanned it down.
“Your commitment to Alpha humbles me, my children. Indeed, it makes me marvel that, for so long, my predecessors have continued clinging to the failing ideal that we alone can win this fight. Which is why today, in the name of Alpha, as the High Cleric of the Sanctum, I hereby declare open war on the evil that plagues Enochia. You know what is at stake. You know who threatens it. Go forth, my children, and help us clear the way, that Alpha’s light may shine on us all, free of taint or burden. Go forth in the name of Alpha.”
“In the name of Alpha!” someone screamed in the moment before the thunderous roar burst forth, putting everything before it to shame. I watched until the vid reached its end, unable to move.
Open war.
Open war with no clear target. None except me, at least, and Four and the few others who’d been featured in the propaganda reel, provided anyone actually recognized them. They must’ve been Seekers like Four and Eight—ones I hadn’t yet met. Wouldn’t meet at all, I guess, if the High Cleric had his way.
Convenient, that he’d forgotten to mention those demons of his had been on Sanctum payroll up till about a cycle ago.
I looked at Johnny and Elise. They were watching me, neither of them sure what to say. I wasn’t sure either. Mostly, I just wanted to disappear. I would’ve even taken a good, healthy surge of rage. But I couldn’t seem to do anything at all except sit there in shock.
Then something thumped against the hallway door, and my faculties returned in a startled jump. I’d pulled a telekinetic barrier around us almost before I knew it, half-expecting the door to fly out of its housing on the back end of breach charges. My thinking brain caught up and reminded me that, aside from the fact that anyone looking to kill me
would probably just open the door and toss a bomb in, I had more productive ways of establishing our immediate safety.
I reached out to take stock with my extended senses and breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s Dillard.”
That discovery was followed by another blip of panic. Because what if the ordo had heard the High Cleric’s call and decided the herald of Alpha might just outrank his Legion orders? But as quick as it came, I pushed the thought aside as ridiculous. The look of understanding on Johnny’s face confirmed my gut feeling.
“Yeah, that…” he let out his own deep breath, relaxing his shoulders and standing to go to the door. “I knew that. Totally.”
Elise and I stood to follow. I didn’t remember having grabbed her hand, but the mutual deathgrip we shared suggested one of us had made the move somewhere along the way.
What little relief I’d felt at Dillard’s presence soured somewhat when Johnny got the door open and I took in the ordo’s expression, shortly followed by Edwards’ hulking form over his shoulder, and what looked like all of First Squad lined up behind them in the max security hallway.
The brig attendants had probably loved that.
“We need to get you both to Central Command, immediately,” Dillard said, looking between me and Elise. “Glenbark’s orders.”
“We’re with you,” Elise said.
I just nodded dumbly. I still couldn’t seem to find words.
Had Dillard seen the High Cleric’s broadcast? Did his Hounds understand what was happening?
Did I?
We fell in and hurried silently down the hallways at the center of their formation, Dillard keeping close enough that I heard the steady stream of orders he delivered to Carter and Second Squad, who sounded to be prepping the area outside the brig for our expedient exit. The tense silence of the Hounds rattled me. Not that any of Dillard’s men normally shirked their duties during an escort, but this felt different. This felt like we were already in an active combat zone.
I wanted to step aside with Dillard and ask him for an honest rundown of what we were about to step into, but I also wasn’t sure I’d manage to find the words, and it felt like we didn’t have the time to spare besides. So I just held Elise’s hand and did my best to match her gentle telepathic reassurances. We didn’t exchange words exactly, more just a general sentiment that we were okay and that whatever was happening, we’d get through it.
I almost had myself convinced this wasn’t even all that different than my time being declared Enemy of Enochia when Dillard pulled us aside and halted First Squad right at the brig exit.
“If anything happens out there,” he said quietly, “let us handle it. Protect yourselves if it becomes absolutely necessary, but you cannot—I repeat cannot—make it look like you’ve attacked Legion personnel. Do you understand me?”
I traded an uneasy look with Elise.
“Do you expect something to happen out there?” Elise asked Dillard quietly.
He chewed his lip, something I’d only seen him do maybe twice before. “We’ve got you covered, no matter what.”
It wasn’t exactly an answer. But he was already giving the signal to move before we could argue. The Hounds plunged forward, sweeping out of the brig ahead. I was starting to fall in with them beside Elise when Dillard laid a hand on my shoulder, holding me up with a meaningful look.
“Eyes open and shields up, Raish.”
It wasn’t a comforting last command.
5
Safe Haven
Outside, there was no surprise ambush. No bombs or sudden hails of gunfire. In fact, nothing really seemed awry at all, except for the few curious glances we drew as the 51st Hounds shuffled us across base in a march that was a little too hurried—not to mention a little too cover-oriented—to appear as casual as we all tried to make it seem. There were looks at me and Elise, of course. There were always looks. I was the Demon of Divinity, and even those who didn’t know who Elise was—which seemed to be a dwindling number among the Haven population—were usually tempted to take a second look at her anyway. But most of the looks didn’t strike me as particularly murderous. I tried to pay them no mind.
Word of the High Cleric’s bold declaration of war would no doubt be spreading across base already, but maybe it hadn’t reached all that many ears just yet. Still, it was going to take more than a lack of death glares to get me to relax and let go of the energy I’d been holding in reserve ever since we’d stepped out in the open. Especially once the big amps kicked on and delivered an oddly ambiguous reminder.
“Hear the call, Haven, and heed this warning. Any legionnaire raising arms within base premises and without explicit orders from Legion command will face the full available repercussions for their insubordination. Such actions will be regarded as treason where possible. For anyone questioning the matter, the highest chain of command we know, as stated in the Legionnaire’s Oath, ends with the High General of the Legion. That is all.”
It was impossible to miss the ripple that caused across Haven. We pushed on, trying to hurry without hurrying. It wasn’t far now. Less than half a mile.
At first, I was encouraged by the number of legionnaires I saw shooting genuinely confused looks up at the amps. It had been a strange announcement, after all. They should look confused, unless they happened to know exactly who and what it was intended to warn them off of.
Which is why it put a lump of cold softsteel in my gut when I noticed one legionnaire glaring at a nearby amp, his brow working overtime, his rifle gripped too tight. And he wasn’t alone. He stood with at least one full fireteam, all of them pointedly not looking at us.
Before I could tell Elise, I felt her mental alarm and realized she’d spotted another suspicious cluster. We both looked around for Dillard—right as he broke off from his side of the detail, charging straight for us.
It was a testament to my growing trust for the man that my jittery nerves didn’t demand I stop him with a telekinetic sucker punch, just to be safe. It was good I didn’t. He caught us both in a two-armed tackle even as he cried, “Take cover!”
We hit permacrete, and the gunfire began.
It was over almost as fast as it started. A few slugs pelted off the telekinetic barrier I pulled over the three of us. One of our Hounds, a woman they called Jinn, dropped to one knee, spitting curses and holding a wounded shoulder. Edwards, Johnny, and the rest of First Squad snapped weapons to the ready, but no one fired. No one needed to.
A Legion base, it turned out, is not a good place to try to assassinate someone, even if you are a legionnaire.
The shooters, as far as I could see, had been tackled down by their fellow soldiers nearly as soon as they’d opened fire. Most of our impromptu allies didn’t seem to know precisely what was happening, aside from that I was involved—which seemed to surprise no one—but Demon of Divinity or no, when slugs started flying, the ones doing the shooting were the ones who got incapacitated until the proper questions could be asked.
Thank Alpha—or the doceres and their drills, rather—for that.
Still, the ill-advised ambush hadn’t been without effect. Jinn was definitely hit, though she appeared to be handling it okay. The surrounding area was quickly becoming a mad house of activity as our rescuers restrained our would-be attackers and others flooded in to see what the fuss had been all about.
Except judging by the furtive looks I was noticing from the crowd here and there, I got the distinct impression there were still at least a few gun hands who were thinking about trying their luck now that their brothers had drawn the attention.
“Come on,” Dillard said, pulling Elise to her feet and turning to me. “We need to move.”
I didn’t argue, nor did anyone else as Dillard ordered Fireteam C to get Jinn to the medica and got the rest of the Hounds marching for Central Command again. Even if anyone had wanted to, I think we were all too shocked to form the words right then.
Legionnaires didn’t shoot other legionnaires. It simply didn
’t happen. Once the training was survived, once the oaths were sworn…
There were your blood relatives—your mother and father, your brothers and sisters. And then there were your fellow legionnaires. Like them or hate them, it didn’t really matter. They were yours in more than blood.
That wasn’t to say friendly fire couldn’t happen by accident in the field. And then there was the catastrophic scudstorm the raknoth and their hybrids had wrought when they’d had the sinister idea to telepathically compel our people to turn their weapons on one another. No one here would ever forget that horror. But to see presumably mentally intact legionnaires willingly turning their rifles on their own brothers and sisters just to chance a questionable shot at me…
I felt sick that anyone could be that desperate to see me dead. But not surprised, I realized, as the initial shock began to subside. Because the High Cleric had finally given the word loud and clear. And when the mouth of Alpha spoke, Enochia listened.
He’d taken the entire raknoth invasion, and pretty much every other bit of evil that ailed this world, and thrown it all straight on my head. Well, my head, and the heads of every other gifted individual on Enochia. Maybe gifted wasn’t the right word anymore.
For the first time, it truly hit me how serious the situation was. Open war. It was easy to say that, but it didn’t really mean much. Not until we saw how far either side was willing to go—and, more importantly, whose side was whose. By the letter, the Legion and the Sanctum had been parted into two discrete entities for a couple hundred years now, but even as tyros, we’d all known the real truth. The Sanctum got what it wanted. They held the hearts of the people. They held the sanctity of our spirits, for the love of Alpha.
The Legion, on the other hand, just made sure no one got rowdy and shot the good people. And clearly, there were plenty of legionnaires who cared about the former more than the latter.
Maybe that’s why it was only a small comfort when we arrived at Central Command without further incident. Safe for the moment. But what would happen when the High Cleric’s message had spread to the entirety of the Legion? How many would honor their oaths over the purported Word of Alpha? Would they even have to?
Children of Enochia Page 4