by T. C. Edge
It will be a glorious coup, built on a terrible act. Such is often the case in this world.
“Why don’t you rest?” asks Rhoth, his hulking frame now drenched across the pew beside me. “You have much work to do, girl. You need to sleep.”
“I can’t,” I say. “Too much on my mind.”
“Yes, the girl and her mind. It is a gift and a curse, that special brain of yours. But to fight, you need rest. You’ve come this far, no sense in dying now.”
My head starts to shake.
“I can’t,” I say. “What about you?”
“I can rest when it suits me. The wilds are always dangerous, so we learn to sleep in bits and pieces…”
“That’s not what I meant,” I say.
“Then what?”
“I mean…are you coming with us? To help take the city?”
His eyes fold up at the suggestion.
“You don’t think we’ve done enough already?”
“You’ve done what you said you would,” I smile. “I’m just thinking…maybe you want to make sure of your investment. You said it yourself, if we die, you don’t get any help out there with your own battles. If you help, though, that’ll be less likely.”
A grin gallops across his lips, and his sharp yellow teeth are bared.
“Clever girl,” he laughs. “Thinking you can get me to fight like this. Oh no, we don’t go into the big city with all the lights. No sense in us dying too if we face something you haven’t planned for.”
I consider his words a second, then ask: “You think we’re making a mistake?”
“I don’t have any opinion on this. I make war in the woods and the wilds. I have no experience of your concrete and metal lands.”
“But you do,” I continue. “You don’t think we should be doing any of this, do you?”
“I have the luxury, girl, of not having to think about such things. My world is a simple one. I will not pretend to understand yours. It is too complicated for men like me. We all make war in our own way.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Rhoth. You’d run the city just as well as Cromwell does, that’s for sure.”
“Ah, the famous Director Cromwell, up in the clouds. Interesting how you say ‘does’, not ‘did’. Was he not meant to be in the big tower when it fell? Is he not meant to be dead? You believe he’s still alive, do you not?”
I go quiet for a moment, then my lungs empty with a sudden breath.
“Something doesn’t add up. I think…I think…”
“You think he got out…”
The sentence is finished for me, but not by Rhoth. Lifting my eyes, I see Adryan hover into view, emerging from the comms room.
“You do, don’t you? You reckon he escaped?”
My lack of immediate answer has Adryan speaking again. He continues to come forwards until he’s next to me, slipping to my other side on the wooden bench and completing the strange threesome.
A hybrid, a hunter, and a Savant.
It sounds like the start of some awful joke…
“I think you’re right,” he continues. “I just spoke with one of our scouts in Inner Haven, a Hawk who had eyes on the High Tower. He said he saw a group of Stalkers rush from the foyer moments before the building came down. They were bunched together, protecting several people. They got into a series of armoured vans and…”
“Cromwell, and the Consortium,” I whisper, cutting in. “They all got out…”
Adryan frowns, his head shaking.
“I don’t know, not for sure. He said there were only a few people being protected. Certainly not twelve, anyway, so it couldn’t be all of the Consortium.”
“And did he see what they were wearing.”
Adryan’s demeanour darkens.
“He couldn’t see that well, not through the Stalkers. But…shades of white. He said he saw shades of white.”
I almost laugh as he speaks. A wry smirk climbs up my face as my head starts to shake. I suck in a breath.
I knew it.
“Have you told Lady Orlando?” I breathe out.
“Just about to. It won’t change anything. Sounds like they were headed away from the city. They probably have some other stronghold somewhere.”
“Yeah, we’ve been there,” I say. “It’s called the REEF. And yup, it kinda does change stuff, Adryan. We just blew up a building to kill a man who probably wasn’t even in the goddamn thing.”
“Well, we didn’t do anything,” he retorts. “I was here and you were out in the woods. What I mean is, we’ll be marching at midnight anyway, and taking control of Inner Haven. The same scout who saw the Stalkers escape, saw a whole load more get caught in the blast. Inner Haven really is there for the taking.”
“And what does that do, anyway?” I can feel my blood beginning to boil in that typical, emotional way of mine. I hate it when it does that. I take a breath and try to recompose myself. “What’s the point in taking Inner Haven? Just spell it out for me, because everyone seems to know what the hell’s going on except me.”
My raised voice attracts a bit of attention. In a place like this, anything more than a whisper seems to echo.
“You want it spelled out? It’s simple, Brie.” Sarcasm. Is that sarcasm from a damn Savant? “We have to take Inner Haven first because it’s much smaller and surrounded by a wall. It’s also currently largely undefended. We take it, then go from there. This is about saving the city. You do realise that, right?”
“Then why the hell does it feel like we’re invading it? We’ve just destroyed half the damn city. We’re hardly saving it, Adryan.”
“OK, OK, cool those tongues, children,” comes Rhoth’s voice. “No need to wake sleeping men. Mr Savant should take this information to your leader. There is no time for lovers to argue now.”
“Lovers,” I huff. “Hardly.”
Adryan glares at me and shakes his head, before standing sharply and moving off. The entire episode is greeted by the soundtrack of Rhoth’s gurgling laughter.
“Ah, to be young and in love,” he chuckles.
“In love? I’ve got no time for love. I don’t want it either.”
He keeps laughing as he speaks.
“You two are so strange. All these Savants are meant to have no emotion. But this Adryan boy…I see it all over his face. And you, Brie, are part Savant, but you’re the most emotional girl I’ve ever met! Our tribal girls are more like Savants than you.”
His laughter grows, a strange irony given how he just told us to keep it down for being too loud. It rumbles around the chamber and I see some of his hunters roll their eyes at the sight. I suspect he enjoys teasing and taunting people as one of his pastimes.
It gets to the point, though, that my ire is assuaged, the image of the chuckling beast enough to lighten the situation a bit. I even laugh myself, a rare reminder that such things happen so infrequently now.
“All right, all right, Rhoth, you’ve had your fun. I take your point. I need to lighten up.”
“Yes, that’s the phrase. Lighten up. Don’t take it all so seriously.”
I find the suggestion odd from a man like him. And at a time like this.
“Noted,” is all I say.
And then I fall silent.
173
The newly lit mood of mine, naturally, doesn’t last too long. A few minutes after Adryan disappears into Lady Orlando’s chambers, he reappears and calls me in.
I leave Rhoth, still with a smile on his face that suggests he gets a rather perverse enjoyment out of all of this, and head straight for the door. I pass by Adryan in a rather frosty manner as he heads off towards the sleeping quarters of the church, away to the left.
He appears again shortly after with the rest of the strike force assembled once more, their allowance of sleep cut short by the latest news. They got about an hour or so. To a man, they look like they could do with a couple dozen more.
We gather in the room and shut the door. The time is rushing q
uickly towards 10 PM, D-day only a matter of hours away.
“Troubling news, ladies and gentlemen,” starts Lady Orlando, trying to stay cool. “We’ve heard from Inner Haven. It looks as though Artemis might have escaped before the tower fell.”
A stunned silence swamps us. Actually, it’s more one of total deflation, rather than shock. As if we all knew this might happen, and were just waiting for the bad news.
“I knew it,” whispers Rycard. “That snake slithered away…”
“It changes nothing,” booms Beckett’s voice. “We continue with the plan. We take Inner Haven.”
“Hang on, hang on,” says Kira, the green-eyed, red-haired, multi-Enhanced spy adding her smooth voice to the room. “We should talk about this a little before jumping in, right?” She looks around the room and sees little agreement. “No? Just me. OK then…”
“Kira, Beckett is right,” says Lady Orlando. “If what we’ve heard is accurate, it seems Artemis was secreted away, along with a few other members of the Consortium, by a troop of his Stalkers just before the tower fell. Others – many others – were caught in the blast and killed. Artemis will have been taken somewhere safe and secure, and that probably means outside of the city. He may not be dead – not yet, anyway - but much of what we planned for is still in operation. There can be no doubt that he learned of the plot at the final minute, too late to save all of the Consortium and other high-ranking officials in the High Tower…”
“We also faced very limited opposition in the underlands beneath the structure,” adds Zander, coming back to life. “They only came right before it blew. If they’d had any further warning, we’d have been caught in the act and surrounded.”
“We had secrecy, that much is clear. At least until the last minute,” says Beckett. “Whatever happens from now, Cromwell, if he is alive, has lost most of his top brass, as well as all of the residents of the High Tower. They were to be the core of his new world, and are now gone. He is a leader with no one to lead. We have defeated him regardless.”
Heads nod. Whispers of agreement shiver through the room. I find myself agreeing too, something I perhaps wouldn’t expect. Whatever happens from now, surely Cromwell’s plans are scuppered?
“And Commander Burns?” asks Zander. “Was he in the High Tower when it fell?”
“No,” I say. “I heard him in my head…”
“Are you sure, Brie?” asks my brother sharply. “You’re tired. You’ve been through a lot. Are you absolutely sure you heard him?”
I’m not, not a hundred per cent. Perhaps eighty…seventy-five…I don’t know.
I nod anyway.
“I’m sure.”
“Then if that’s true,” says Beckett, “it’s quite possible that Burns leaving the High Tower is precisely what alerted Cromwell to its downfall. He’d have made sure that all Consortium members were on lockdown. If Burns tried to sneak out, perhaps he was caught. It could be that he was one of the people being secreted away by the Stalkers.”
“Sounds about right,” says Kira.
Rycard and Freya nod.
“Hmmmm, that’s a loss,” muses Lady Orlando. “Leyton was a key cog in the plan, as he has been all along. He keeps missing the plays.”
“Yeah, and it’s probably Woolf’s fault…” I grumble quietly.
“Woolf?” asks Kira.
Her keen ears caught my voice. All eyes swing to me.
“Well, maybe,” I say, shrugging. “Like Beckett said, it could have been Burns himself who led to Cromwell finding out about the plan. Or…you know, maybe it was Woolf. Adryan told me that no one’s found her yet. She might have got back to the city and sent word of the plot…”
All eyes switch to Adryan.
“True,” he says. “Our people at the northern and western gates haven’t seen her.”
“And when were you last in contact with them?” quizzes Beckett fiercely.
Adryan swallows.
“The team at the northern gate, half an hour or so ago.”
“And the west?” glares Beckett.
Adryan delays. He must have realised this was coming.
“Several hours,” he admits. “Before…before the tower went down.”
“Goddammit,” shouts Beckett, pacing off around the room.
I look to see Zander’s hazel eyes turning to slits. And it’s not because he’s tired.
“Beckett, calm down,” says Lady Orlando. “We’ll have time for cursing later, and when we do find Agent Woolf, we’ll make her pay. But right now, how Artemis found out is entirely irrelevant. We need to keep our eye on the prize here, and continue with our own plan. We take Inner Haven, give sanctuary to those who support us, and bring the people together. Yes, this is an unfortunate turn of events, but wars never go without a few hiccups. We will prevail, in time. We need to stay focused, and stay strong. Can you all do that?”
Collectively, we commit to agree. Beckett even apologises for his outburst.
“Good,” continues the Lady of the Nameless. “Now, the clock is ticking, and the city is waiting. Make your final preparations and get ready to march. Beckett, Zander, Marler, head to the eastern quarter when you’re ready, sneak back into Inner Haven, and make sure the northern gates are open. The rest of us will work through the northern quarter with our full strength. Adryan, where are we on that?”
“Getting there, Lady Orlando. Our people are moving to their appropriate positions in district two of the north. With the Con-Cops heading east, they’re seeing less resistance.”
“Good. We all know the plan. Enough talking now. Let’s get to it.”
The clock continues to rattle along, seconds ticking at twice their normal speed. Within only a few minutes, our mini covert team of Beckett, Zander, and Marler are preparing to step back into the city, using one of the only tunnels to the north that remains undiscovered and un-collapsed.
Zander leaves me with a few words of support, as he always does.
“Keep Lady Orlando safe, Brie,” he says. “Rhoth told me how great you were on the journey to the mines. Do the same here, OK. And be prepared for conflict.”
He bends down and kisses my forehead as Beckett calls for him to hurry. Then, the three super-hybrids head straight off into the night, leaving me amid the now bustling church.
It seems that all are preparing to clear out, the church set to be almost fully abandoned. It has served its purpose for years now, building to this point. Soon enough, the Nameless will be seeing a significant upgrade. An old derelict church and town, to the centre of the city of Haven. Not bad.
I spend a bit of time gathering my things and making sure my armour and weaponry are fully operational. I’m still getting used to the different settings on my pulse rifle, something that Kira helps me with.
Noticing me fumble about, she darts over with her sharp green eyes and flowing red hair, seemingly less affected by a lack of sleep than the rest. There’s a boundless energy to her, and a little smile painted across her lips, as if she was born for all of this.
“Here,” she says, scooping up the rifle. “Let me…”
She sets about giving me a crash course on the various functions of the weapon. Mostly, it’s about turning the dial to ensure that the round of energy spat out of the end of it is suitable for the intended purpose, whether that’s simply knocking someone out cold or cutting a hole right through their body.
There are settings, too, for energy blasts intended for disabling vehicles and other electronic equipment, as well as those capable of wreaking terrible carnage to buildings, walls, and more sturdy objects.
The only thing I can’t figure out is why some rifles shoot blue energy, and others shoot green or red.
“Status,” says Kira, “or something like that. I think the red ones are used by the Stalkers mostly. Green for the Con-Cops. Blue for the City Guard.”
“Right, kinda makes sense. What colour’s yours?”
“This one,” says Kira, lifting her weapon, “is a bl
ue. Like yours. Others have red or green. Just depends on who we scavenged them from really.”
“Here’s a hunch,” I say. “Beckett’s got a red one? Am I right?”
She smiles, revealing sparkly white teeth.
“Nice call. He’s used the same one for years. Took it off a Stalker in a pretty awesome battle. I saw it myself.”
“I’d like to be a fly on the wall for that! What about yours? You snatch it off some badass City Guard or something?”
“Badass City Guard? No such thing, Brie! I mean, come on, single Enhanced? Pfff. We’re hybrids. A normal Enhanced ain’t got nothing on us!”
She lifts her eyes and they flash a brighter shade of green. I can’t quite tell if she’s being sarcastic or not.
Still, her comment wasn’t missed by Freya, sitting nearby and polishing her minigun. Being only part Brute, she might well take such comments as insults.
Kira sees her watching too.
“Ooops,” she whispers, smiling at me. “Just joking, Freya…in case you were listening,” she calls out.
“I wasn’t,” growls the white haired half-Brute.
She clearly was.
The levity of the conversation is slightly out of place, though. Kira just seems like the type to make light of things, experienced as she is with all of this. Unlike me, new to the game and constantly worrying.
I look at her and see someone to admire, to emulate. Even someone as young as she is.
“How old are you, by the way?” I ask her. “That’s not rude, is it? I never know…”
“Come on, Brie, we’re about to march to war and you’re worrying about being rude asking my age?! It must be so busy up there in that head of yours,” she grins.
“Yup…too busy.”
“I’m 22, though. You’re what, 18, like your bro? Must be…twins,” she says to herself.
“Yeah, 19 soon enough. So you’ve been through all this stuff a fair bit, right? How long have you been with the Nameless?”
“Hmmmm, good question. It’s been so long I can barely remember.” She thinks for a moment. “Joined over ten years ago now. It was always in my blood.”