Prometheus Wakes (The Great Insurrection Book 4)

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Prometheus Wakes (The Great Insurrection Book 4) Page 10

by David Beers


  That wasn’t what he’d expected. "What do you mean?"

  "I'm worried that you might become like them and not the man I love. I'm worried that what they did to you might have changed you irrevocably."

  Thoreaux wasn't sure what to say. She was right. He'd been changed when his skin was peeled down to the bone. When he was made to cry and beg and sell out his friends. "I don't know what you want from me, Fai."

  There were tears in her eyes. "I want you to keep your soul through all of this. I want you to be the kind man I first met. You were a warrior, but it wasn't blood you wanted. It was righteousness."

  Thoreaux looked down at the deck. He was silent for what felt like a long time, and Faitrin said nothing. "I'm sorry, Fai. I love you, but I can't undo the past. I can't change what was done to me."

  "I don't want you to change what was done to you," she responded. "I want you to change how you react to it."

  Thoreaux grabbed his bag and helmet. He stepped to the bed and kissed her cheek lightly. "I love you. I'll be back soon."

  Chapter Ten

  The drop was one of the most uncomfortable ones Alistair had ever experienced. It was easily the fastest, combined with the hardest landing, all of it to ensure the corporation that owned this planet wouldn't see them as anything but a natural phenomenon, if they saw anything.

  The ship was the smallest Alistair had ever been in. It was a simple tube the three of them fitted into head to toe. It was aerodynamic, with both ends forming points, and it contained a stealth device that blocked casual viewers from seeing it. The ship was made to launch only once, so structural integrity was not a priority.

  Alistair vomited into the tube as they landed, his stomach unable to handle the jolting any longer. The vomit hit the glass in front of his face, then dripped back down onto him, coating his new armor with the contents of his stomach.

  The ship stopped moving, and Alistair was on his back. "Son of a bitch," he muttered as saliva hit his forehead.

  "Yeah," Thoreaux said over the comm. "That was less than fun."

  "Caesar, you good?" Alistair asked.

  "I'm fine," the giant responded.

  Above Alistair, the doors opened. Alistair's faceplate closed quickly, sensing a slightly different atmosphere than the one inside the bullet ship, which also meant Alistair couldn't wipe away the vomit on his face until the suit identified if the new atmosphere was safe.

  He pulled himself out of the bullet ship and stood. A heads-up display inside the helmet said it was nearly done with the atmosphere test. Thoreaux and Caesar both rose from the ship too and stood next to him.

  "So, Caesar, exactly where in Hades are we?" Thoreaux asked.

  The same question was on Alistair's mind. They were supposed to land on the lightly forested outskirts of a city, but this was something entirely different. They were in a jungle.

  Alistair looked above him and saw the tops of tall trees burning where the ship had fallen through. Unseen animals were screeching, either in pain or alerting others to the intrusion. Alistair scanned the area in front of him and saw nothing but plant life stretching as far as the eye could see. The colors were unlike anything he'd seen before, the deepest hues of purple, blue, red, and orange. There was very little green or the brown of tree trunks.

  "This is not good," Caesar responded.

  "Why is that?"

  Caesar knelt and placed his hand on what appeared to be dirt, although it was a shockingly bright yellow. "We're in the middle of the Institute."

  The HUD registered that the atmosphere was acceptable, and Alistair immediately opened the faceplate. He stuck his hand inside, the finger armor peeling back on itself to let him wipe away the vomit. He did the best he could, tossing it violently to the ground while Thoreaux did the same. "You want to clarify that a bit, Caesar?" Alistair asked. "We're supposed to be near the capital, not in a jungle."

  "All I know is that we're in the battlegrounds. Most likely, scouts have already seen us and are heading this way. They probably think this is some kind of game the makers are playing. They will not let us simply crash-land into the institute."

  Alistair didn't understand how that was possible. He activated the comm to the dreadnought. "Servia, Faitrin, Relm, this is Prometheus. Do you have our location?"

  Everyone waited for an answer, but after a minute, none had come.

  "Jeeves," Alistair asked. "Jeeves, are you hearing me?"

  Again, no answer came. They were cut off from the ship and their AI. Caesar was still kneeling, feeling the earth. Alistair turned to him. "What happens when the scouts find us, Caesar?"

  "They'll either kill us here or incapacitate us and drag us back to their domain. From there, they will probably torture us until we tell them what they want to hear, which will most likely be that the other clans inside the Institute sent us."

  "Well, that sounds great," Thoreaux said. He was slowly scanning the perimeter, letting his HUD tell him what it could see. "Personally, I've had enough torture for my lifetime, so I'm going to pass on it. Pro, what's the plan?"

  Alistair could only come up with one answer to what had happened. The corporation had seen through their maneuver, and rather than blast them out of the sky, they had altered their landing plans and sent them into the middle of this school's game. That, or somehow Jeeves had managed to fuck up the entire landing, which didn't seem possible.

  "For right now, we've got to get away from this bullet ship. Caesar, what exactly are you doing on the ground?"

  "Understanding where the gigantes are. They seem to have fled but are pausing."

  Alistair didn't understand how that was possible, but he knew the giant wasn't lying to him. "Do you know where we can hide for a bit?"

  "Maybe." The giant stood. "I haven't been here for years, but it's possible the place is still there. Come. Follow me."

  The giant was the only one not wearing Fire Starter armor. The Terram didn't have anything near his size, plus the giant felt more comfortable in his own armor.

  Alistair and Thoreaux followed him as he moved through the dense jungle. The giant was extremely agile, able to move around the vines and plants like he was an Earth-born monkey and not a creature even bigger than Alistair.

  They walked silently for a long time, or as silently as they could. The unseen animals above let out screeches from time to time, alerting the other creatures to these newcomers.

  "How far away are we?" Alistair asked. His HUD showed they'd walked over six miles already and that three hours had passed.

  "Almost there," the giant said.

  "What happens if the place isn't as you remember it?" Thoreaux asked.

  "We will most likely die," Caesar responded, sounding as frightened as he always did in these circumstances. Which was to say, not at all.

  "I should start asking this stuff before we begin the journey," Thoreaux remarked.

  They walked another half-mile and then the jungle opened before them. They stood on the face of a cliff, staring off at a river that Alistair's HUD said was over a mile wide. The drop was nearly a third of a mile, and to Alistair, it looked as if something was swimming upstream in the waters.

  "Where do we go from here?" Alistair asked.

  "Down," the giant said. He squatted on the edge of the cliff, then flipped over the edge. Alistair jumped forward, about to scream, then saw the giant quickly climbing down. His hands and feet caught the rocks necessary to descend almost without him looking.

  Thoreaux stepped up next to Alistair and watched the giant moving down. "I'm glad you didn't have to fight him on this cliff face. I don't think he would have joined us."

  "Thanks for your vote of confidence," Alistair said. "I can tell you one thing I don't like about this armor already. It doesn't have jetpacks on the boots."

  They were going to have to climb, just like the gigante.

  Very slowly and carefully, Alistair lowered himself down the cliff face. Caesar was already a quarter of the way down, not lookin
g at them. Thoreaux came behind Alistair, slightly to the left to prevent rocks from falling on his head.

  Ten minutes into their glacially paced descent, Alistair checked to see where Caesar was. He couldn't see him anywhere, and the giant didn't appear to have dropped to his death below. "CAESAR!" Alistair shouted.

  There was no response for twenty seconds or so. Alistair didn’t move but scanned the area below. He glanced up and saw Thoreaux doing the same.

  The shot nearly took off his right shoulder. Rock exploded next to him, then stones were falling on his head. Alistair looked up quickly and saw Thoreaux hanging by one arm from a jutting boulder.

  "Go!" he shouted. "I'm fine."

  Another shot pulverized the rock below him, and Alistair started moving. Hand over hand, foot over foot, he rushed down the rock. Something tagged his right calf, and the HUD said it weakened the armor there by fifty percent. Alistair ignored it all, including the shots coming every few seconds. He figured the only way they were missing was that they were on the other side of the river, miles away.

  He had no idea where he was going, rushing down in a mad sprint, hoping to find safety somewhere below.

  The yell above him told him what was happening before he saw it. Alistair's head jerked up as Thoreaux fell past him, a shot having made him lose purchase on the cliff face. Alistair didn't think, he simply reacted. He leaned off the cliff, letting go with his left arm, and grabbed Thoreaux's outstretched forearm as he passed.

  The weight was too much even for Alistair's superior strength, and physics pulled him off. He didn't release Thoreaux as he felt his right hand lose its grip and his feet start to slip.

  Then they were both falling, the HUD reading distance and moments to impact. Alistair's body remained calm as it always did, his mind telling him their armor would be crushed on impact, along with the two of them.

  Then, as if from nowhere, two massive hands reached out and grabbed them. Alistair felt as if a god had grabbed him as he was wrenched sideways, surely to be broken against the cliff face.

  Instead, he was flung backward and hit the ground, skidding across it. He reacted as quickly as he could, pulling his Whip free as he rolled to a crouching position, the red tentacles circling in the air.

  The enemy before him was smiling. Caesar. "In this jungle, never yell no matter what. Death is always listening."

  The three of them were in a cavern that was hidden in the cliff. Because of the distance from the cliff to land, it looked like another piece of rock with no hole to climb inside.

  Caesar had found it when he was young while he was being chased through the jungle above. His pursuers thought he'd fallen off and been washed away by the river, but he'd hidden there.

  Alistair had been right; the shots were coming from the other side of the river. Scouts must have been placed there, and the shout had made them scan the cliff.

  "Are they going to try to find us?" Alistair asked once he was sure no one was injured, including Caesar. Regardless of how great a warrior Alistair was, he would never come close to the giant's strength.

  "Most definitely," Caesar responded.

  "This is bad," Thoreaux said. "Like, really bad. We have no contact with the dreadnought, no contact with Jeeves, and only the gods know how many giants are chasing us."

  Caesar was standing at the edge of the cavern, staring beyond the river. "One thousand."

  "Huh?" Thoreaux asked.

  "One thousand gigantes are coming after us. Each year, one thousand are bred. This planet is large enough for five classes to attend the Institute at once. We are in groupings of five hundred versus five hundred. By now, word is spreading to the Magnus on both sides."

  "I'm going to assume," Alistair said, "that Magnus is the person in command."

  "You assume correctly." The gigante didn't sound worried. If anything, he sounded contemplative.

  Alistair stepped up next to him. "I need your help, Caesar. What do we do from here?"

  "I'm considering," the giant remarked without looking at him. "If we wait here, they will find us. I am sure of that. I nearly died here, and it was only through this place I was able to rise to Magnus."

  Thoreaux came up on Alistair's right side. "You were the greatest of your group?"

  Caesar looked at him. "I was Magnus of my clan, and Lord Magnus over the entire Institute. There was none higher than me at my graduation."

  Thoreaux's faceplate was retracted, and Alistair saw him smile. "Sorry, sorry, big man. I didn't mean to ruffle any feathers. I believe ya."

  Caesar stared at him for another second as if not trusting the mea culpa. Finally, he looked back over the river. "Strength can be built from secrecy. That was what I did after I nearly died in here. If we want to survive, we must build strength. It is all the gigantes will follow. There are five thousand gigantes on this planet fighting wars right now. Many will die, most likely half in each part of the institute. Without air support from the council, we will have to win over this institute first."

  "What do you mean?" Thoreaux asked.

  Alistair understood. "He means we're going to have to kill gigantes until they decide to follow us. I got that about right, Caesar?"

  The giant was solemn as he answered. "Unfortunately, for now, that is the only way. Some must die so the rest can be free."

  Alistair looked at Caesar. He saw sadness on the giant's face, an emotion he wasn't sure he'd seen from the giant. He understood it, though, or he thought he did.

  Since Caesar finally understood freedom, he could finally feel sympathy for those bred like him. He realized what he needed to do, and he hated that he would have to do it.

  Chapter Eleven

  The cave they'd entered wound back into the cliff and down a slope that twisted back around to the river. It took the three of them an hour to walk down to it, and when Alistair had tried to unholster his Whip, Caesar told him not to.

  "Light, noise, both are dangerous on this world. It is best to move silently in darkness."

  They found themselves about six miles up from the river, and Alistair marveled at the color. The purple rush ran below him, and now that he was closer, he could see the creatures swimming upstream. They weren't fish like one would see on Earth. They appeared to be giant eels. Each one stretched at least three feet long, and they kept a wide distance from each other.

  "What are they?" Alistair asked.

  "They're what's protecting us right now," Caesar answered. "This river divides the two clans. Those down there are waiting for someone to try and cross. Someone who thinks they're brave and wants to show how strong they are."

  Caesar's eyes widened. He raised a hand and pointed about fifty yards on the right.

  "There. He will try to come over here and find us. He thinks it's his way to glory. Once he enters the river, we will cross."

  "We're going to cross the river?" Thoreaux asked. "The one with those big eel things that are supposedly keeping us safe?"

  "We can't go back up," Caesar answered. "The other clan is most likely at the top of the cliff and moving down. They will find the lair soon, then they will find us here. The only path to survival is forward across the river. Swim strong and fast. The brave up there will do the rest for us."

  Alistair took a step closer to the edge. The giant was almost at the river, and it was as if the eel-like creatures could smell him. Alistair could see they were surging forward through the purple water, moving closer to each other as at least ten of them tried to get upstream fast enough. The giant was a young brave, showing none of the scars that littered Caesar's body. Looking at the eels, Alistair didn't see any way that the brave would make it, nor would he be able to heal himself with the nanotechnology in his hands.

  It was a fool's errand that would only end in death, all to prove he was the strongest.

  "Wait for my command," Caesar said. "Then we go. Do not look upstream or down. Only at the other side."

  "Have you ever done this?" Thoreaux asked.

&n
bsp; Caesar nodded. "Once." That was all he said, and there wasn't time to ask more questions.

  Alistair's faceplate was closed, and he was watching the massive brave standing on the river's edge. He wore armor different from Caesar's. It was newer and left his arms and head exposed. The brave was quiet, not boasting or screaming, and that made Alistair feel more pity for him. On this world, the only way to greatness was foolish tasks like this. To show yourself the strongest so evil men could buy and sell you later for greater sums of currency.

  They were coming to kill Alistair now, and he was going to kill as many of them as it took to free them.

  The brave held a laser blade in each hand. He didn't appear to be trying to out-swim the beasts coming for him but to cut them down.

  He stepped into the water.

  "Go," Caesar whispered harshly. He jumped off the ledge, and Thoreaux followed, both hitting the ground. Alistair didn't move. He watched the brave.

  The young gigante sliced through the water with his blades. Steam rose from the lasers and the sound of screeching tires filled the air. It could only be the screams of the dying eels. The purple water ahead was suddenly stained with red. The brave began marching forward, his eyes on the water.

  Alistair remained where he was as his friends touched the river.

  Thoreaux turned back to look at him, and Alistair knew waiting like this was endangering everyone. He still couldn't pull away.

  The first eel to make contact launched out of the water like a missile shot. It came from behind the brave and caught his left shoulder. The creature's mouth opened wide, and Alistair saw long, needle-like teeth that couldn't possibly fit in their owner’s mouth. The eyes were cold and dead as if seeing nothing and everything at the same time.

  The eel grabbed the brave's shoulder, its teeth sinking through flesh, tendon, and bone. The brave let out a horrific scream as his arm was separated from his body and hit the water.

 

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