Prometheus Wakes (The Great Insurrection Book 4)

by David Beers

  Alistair turned to Thoreaux. "She tell you the same?"

  His second grinned at him. "You worry about your conversations with the AllMother. I'll worry about mine."

  Alistair sighed. He leaned forward, wrapped his arms around his knees, and told them what he'd seen: the building, the destroyed boardroom, the giant, and the man in the suit. He told them how he felt he'd have to choose between them or they all would die. He told them that in the dream, they'd all been cut down.

  "And you think it's real?" Thoreaux asked.

  Alistair nodded. "I know it is. There's no question about it. Caesar, how did Nero know I was seeing something?"

  The giant hadn't said anything during the story, nor had he opened his eyes. At Alistair's question, he did, though. He was silent, only stared at the sky.

  "Caesar?"

  "This is not good," the giant said without looking around.

  "I sorta feel that about your entire home planet, big man," Thoreaux said, "but what's not good about this part?"

  "He is touched." Caesar brought a finger up to his temple and tapped it.

  "Insane?" Alistair asked.

  Caesar shook his head. "No. Touched like you, boss. He cannot see as far as you, nor can he do the things you can, but he is touched all the same."

  Alistair's face grew concerned. "He's a telepath? He can see the future?" As far as he knew, no one could do that, not until he'd dreamed about it a few days ago. The AllMother had never mentioned the future, only the shared dreams and the ability to see across galaxies. His mind was expanding, and now he was being told another creature had a similar power? "Did you know he was touched, Caesar?"

  The giant shook his head. "No. I thought there might be a chance. The touched are rare among us, and every time, they are hunted down and killed, just as he was going to be. The touched cannot follow. They're incapable of it."

  "Why didn't you mention this before, Caesar? Why didn't you tell us he was touched when we first met him?"

  The giant remained calm. "I couldn't know. Even now, I can’t be sure. He might not be touched, just insane. However, if he could tell you were dreaming, I'd venture to say he's probably touched."

  Alistair unhooked his helmet from his neckline and placed it on the ground next to him. What was he going to do, tell this giant such a thing wasn't true because he didn't think it was possible?

  Allie, his wife asked from her place inside his mind. Is someone like you supposed to exist?

  He knew the answer to that as well.

  "I can see how it's possible," Thoreaux said, looking at the sky. "They breed creatures here, but not like we do in our Solar System. There's no mother and father. No procreating. This is all done in a lab, so in a way, they're just another form of the modified. Mutants, as Earth calls them. Truthfully, if they're creating modified humans—which they are since the gigantes' DNA is based on ours—sooner or later they're going to create a modified who has mental abilities. Maybe they do it by mistake, or maybe they do it on purpose. Who knows?"

  "Why would they do it on purpose?" Alistair asked.

  "To teach the gigante to hunt their own kind, even when they’re on the same team." Thoreaux shrugged. "I certainly don't think it's beyond their cruelty to do such a thing."

  Alistair ran his hands through his hair. Perhaps it did make sense, in a way that only this strange part of the universe could. Or maybe it made sense from the way Alistair's solar system did. Because humans had created the modified and now they were second-class citizens, sometimes even hunted. So why wouldn't other humans do it all these miles away?

  He and I are the same in that way, then, Alistair thought. He, Caesar, and me. All Modified, just in different ways.

  Alistair heard the steps before anyone else in his group did and bounded to his feet, his Whip unfurled and ready to kill. The footsteps grew louder, whoever was coming doing nothing to hide their approach. The other two were on their feet seconds after Alistair.

  The strange language came from the wild-colored forest. "It's him," Caesar said, visibly relaxing.

  Nero stepped through purple vines, an animal slung over his right shoulder. The animal had jagged bone-like points across its body, obviously for protection. Its forehead contained an elaborate set of horns, and a tongue lolled from between vicious-looking teeth. It easily weighed two hundred pounds, perhaps more, and looked like a wild cross between a porcupine, a deer, and a wolf, although none of them were Earthborn.

  Nero slung the animal down in front of them and smiled from ear to ear. "Eat. Tomorrow we die."

  Alistair ate the meat after having watched the two gigantes skin and clean the animal as if they were surgeons. Despite the different modes, they'd both grown up learning how to do this, and they both knew the animal well.

  They carved the meat down to the bone and made a small fire to cook it. They did all this quickly and efficiently, then scattered dirt on the fire so it wouldn't be seen. They ate in silence, not out of fear but out of hunger. The meat was gamey and tougher than anything Alistair had experienced before, but he ate it gratefully. Given how hungry he'd been, it might have been the greatest meal of his life.

  After they were finished, Alistair looked at the two moons in the sky. Everyone was quiet and had been since the meal was finished.

  Alistair understood what Nero's clan leader was attempting. Tomorrow would be extremely dangerous for his group. In a way, Alistair admired it. The plan was something he might have tried if he'd had the limitations placed on him by this game.

  "How far are we from the nests, Nero?" he asked.

  "Not far," the giant answered.

  Alistair sat up. "I'd like to see them."

  Thoreaux followed suit, looking at Alistair. "You think that's a good idea, Pro? The clan will be getting ready to grab the creatures soon."

  Alistair climbed to his feet, picking up his helmet. "It's fine. Nero, can you keep us from being seen?"

  The gigante was squatting, stretching his quads. "Yes, I should be able to."

  Alistair smiled at Thoreaux. "See, everything is fine."

  The gigante nodded without looking at either of them. “It is fine. We die tomorrow. Not tonight."

  Thoreaux didn't look pleased. "You want us to come, Pro?"

  "No, you two stay here. We'll be back shortly. I just want a look at what we'll be going up against tomorrow."

  Thoreaux didn't argue, and Caesar remained quiet. Both of them knew that wasn't the only reason he wanted to walk with Nero. They'd just have to trust he could keep himself alive in this strange jungle.

  The two started walking. Alistair didn't ask how long it would take, and truthfully, he didn't care. Getting an eye on the creatures was secondary to the conversation he wanted to have. He waited until they were out of earshot of his friends, admiring the way the giant moved through the jungle as if he were a much smaller creature. He stepped lightly and dodged vines in a way Alistair never could.

  The giant made no movements that suggested he might try to hurt Alistair. He seemed completely enveloped in moving through the dark forest, his senses alert to everything around him.

  Alistair walked a few feet behind him, but the gigante didn't seem nervous about that either. Whether it was him being touched or him simply trusting Alistair was anyone's guess.

  "Do you know what touched means, Nero?" he finally asked from behind the giant.

  The big creature nodded. "I do."

  "Are you touched? Is that how you knew I was dreaming?"

  Nero stopped walking, putting Alistair on edge. He didn't turn around but only looked at the ground. "I don't know if I am touched. I see things sometimes. Not all the time. I saw you were dreaming something important, but I didn't know what."

  "What else do you see?"

  Nero looked into the forest. "I saw the death of my clan leader. I saw you. The other things fade over time. I do not know why."

  "You told your clan leader you saw him fall?" Alistair asked.

 
; "No. There was no need. He knew I saw it, so he tried to kill me." Nero laughed, again sounding mad. "I didn't see that coming, though."

  "You saw me coming?"

  Nero pointed into the sky, his head following his finger. "You floated down by yourself. You had a weapon like the one you have now, and your armor was mostly destroyed, but I saw you coming days before you got here."

  Alistair had seen his armor badly damaged too in his dream. He didn't doubt Caesar any longer. Touched or modified, it all came down to the same thing. This gigante had powers different from those on this planet, or at least most of them, and he was hunted for it. Alistair didn't know if the rest of what Caesar had said was true, whether the gigante could never follow anyone, or if he'd have to be killed in the end.

  Alistair would have to find that out on his own.

  He had one more question to ask. "Can you see what happens tomorrow? Or after?"

  "I cannot see as far as your dream. I cannot see to the makers' rooms. I only see death. Rivers of death. You are bringing those rivers, but I do not know if you will be swept up in them as well. The whole planet may be swept away in one red river."

  Alistair swallowed, wishing he hadn’t asked. "Let's go, Nero. We'll need some sleep before tomorrow, so we should hurry."

  The giant nodded and started forward as if nothing had been discussed. They continued through the jungle, Alistair's HUD working similarly to Nero's senses, both constantly relaying any possible dangers to them.

  After another hour of hiking, the giant abruptly squatted and motioned for Alistair to do the same at his side.

  They'd reached another cliff edge, although Alistair had no idea where it was in relation to the original one they'd nearly died at. He heard no water rushing at the bottom, which hopefully meant none of those murderous eels waited there. Alistair squatted next to Nero and felt the giant carefully lean into his side.

  The whisper was nearly noiseless. Alistair had to turn up the volume on his helmet to hear it. "Move to the edge of the cliff. Look down. Make no noise or you will die, spaceman."

  Alistair cranked the volume of his voice down to match the giant's. "You're not coming?"

  The giant shook his head. "Do not worry. You will not die at my hands if you make too much noise." He smiled, the moon twinkling off his big white teeth and dark-brown eyes.

  "Thanks, buddy," Alistair said. He laid on his stomach and slowly crawled forward, his HUD telling him the distance until he reached the edge.

  His head crossed the plane from ground to air and he looked down, not sure what to expect.

  His mouth opened, and he drew a breath. He turned the night vision down on his helmet, letting the moons' natural glow illuminate the miraculous creatures beneath him.

  The beasts below him had wings. Giant birds. That was the first way his brain tried to translate what he saw, yet such primitive words failed. As he lay there watching them, he saw one coming in to land on the massive ledge beneath him. It flew in at high speed, and fifty yards away, it started to slow, its flapping wings sending huge gusts of winds to buffet the rock face.

  Alistair saw the creature in full at that moment. It had talons the color of steel. The talons were attached to massive legs covered with feathers like a bird's, but instead of a single pair of legs, there were two, one in front and the other in back.

  Alistair could see the muscle rippling beneath its feathers.

  The other beasts moved out of its way as it landed with a dead animal hanging from one of its talons. They were night hunters, and Alistair was glad none had taken a liking to him since he saw no way of killing the thing. From beak to tail, it was twenty-five yards long, double the size of the largest creature he'd ever seen. The creature opened its mouth, and where a bird might have tiny teeth if any, this thing had the sharp, pointed teeth of an Earth shark. Alistair understood that the beast would shake its head in giant arcs, and the teeth would cut its enemy to shreds. There was no need to bite or readjust. It only had to shake its head and the teeth would do the rest.

  The “nest” beneath him stretched across the entire cliff face. The birds had built it, not the makers. Alistair hadn't believed it possible when Nero first explained it, but now he had no doubt. Their steel-colored beaks had carved out the platform over long years. Alistair might think of them as beasts, but there was intelligence in these animals.

  Alistair slowly and quietly crept back to where Nero waited for him.

  He said nothing as they turned and left.

  Only one thought held firm in his mind. What the giant had told him earlier.

  I only see death. Rivers of death.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Caesar silently stood from his place on the ground. He'd purposely slept farther away from Alistair and Thoreaux, knowing what he would do tonight. He'd been thinking a lot about what to do, about Alistair's plan.

  There were things about this world Alistair and Thoreaux didn't understand. There were creatures here they would never see, some that had eyes on them right now. Caesar knew them—or at least most of them—but some of the makers' creations were beyond what Caesar would know about.

  He and Nero both knew of the creatures they would soon come up against. Nero had kept silent about them for the most part, and Caesar had said nothing either.

  What Caesar wanted to know was why Nero had said so little. He'd only told them of the physical nature of the beasts, but the...

  Caesar’s thoughts broke off for a moment when the word he wanted eluded his grasp. It was a new word that had been introduced to him since meeting Alistair. Something he was just starting to come to understand beyond intuitively.

  Nero hadn't told Alistair of the beasts' “spirituality.” Caesar had no idea if the makers knew about this spiritual part of them, and he didn't care. The gigantes knew of it. They envied it because of their brutish lives. They had been given no souls or told they had none so many times that there was very little difference in the end. The beasts they would soon battle weren't like that.

  Caesar stood in the darkness. He'd slept near Nero, and the giant was staring at him from his spot on the ground. He raised a finger to his lips, telling the other to be quiet. Nero understood, and he rose silently from the jungle floor.

  Alistair was powerful, god-like in some ways. However, on this world, in this jungle, Caesar held the advantage. He and Nero had been born into this mess, and they could move without either human hearing them.

  Caesar and Nero walked into the night, neither saying anything. The sounds their steps made were indistinguishable from the rest of the jungle noises.

  When they were well out of earshot of the humans, Caesar squatted. Nero squatted too, the giants facing each other.

  Caesar spoke in their native tongue, the one that hardly anyone outside of the gigantes knew. Perhaps the makers knew it, although they never spoke it. He asked his question, then stared at Nero. The gigante was touched, whether or not Alistair believed it, and Caesar believed he'd have to be killed in the end. Right now, though, he needed to understand why the touched gigante hadn't told Alistair more about the animals that would surely try to kill them all.

  The moon lit the giant's square face, and Nero looked at the ground. He stuck his finger in it and drew a large circle in the dirt. He said something in their native language, then placed his finger in the dirt five times, creating five dots.

  He looked up at Caesar and spoke one more sentence.

  He looked back down and scattered four of the five dots, leaving one remaining.

  Nero said one more thing and then stood, leaving the circle and the last dot there.

  Caesar stared at it for a long time. The two moons continued their rotation, moving closer and closer to the horizon, but he didn't move. He had to make a decision, one he didn't feel comfortable about. He knew he no longer had to follow Prometheus. He could go his own way. He was free; that was something Pro had shown him. He followed the man because he wanted to. In his way, Pro had become a
maker, remaking Caesar into something very different from the beast he had first met.

  Now Caesar had a choice. Nero had already made his. The gigante was touched, and there wasn't anything Caesar could do to convince him to make a different decision.

  Would Caesar tell him of the spiritual nature of these beasts, or would he let Pro walk into it blind?

  Caesar understood this was his part in making Prometheus. To come out of this alive would be to come out of it greater than he had ventured into it. To conquer these beasts, he'd have to become more than he currently was.

  Would telling Prometheus this hinder or hurt him?

  The planet's star was about to rise when Caesar made his decision. He and Pro were very different creatures, the gigante realized. Caesar had needed to be molded by a potter's hand, gently letting him come to realizations.

  Prometheus had been and would continue to be molded by a blacksmith's forge. Hard and hot.

  For better or worse, Caesar decided to keep silent. He would let the hard and hot jungle and the heat of battle forge what Prometheus would become. Nero was right, and as Caesar stood, he looked at the remaining dot. Everyone else here could die, and the circle would hold. Prometheus held the circle together. Telling him of the future might break him. Pro must meet the future on his own terms and in his own time.

  That was how Caesar could help make him.

  Binsum Tinsert Immorium Dax woke up before dawn, having no idea what the gigante now named Nero saw for this day. To him, the only bothersome thing was the dreadnought still floating above the planet. They had killed the intruders a few days ago, and the scans had shown no signs of life where the flames had burned.

  Bin had transferred as much to the dreadnought, letting them know there was no reason for them to remain. The people they'd sent were dead. Their remains destroyed, burnt to ashes.

  The dreadnought still had not moved. It was too far out of the planet's orbit to cause damage but close enough to embark on a landing if it wished. That bothered Bin. He hadn't attacked yet because he still wasn't sure where this dreadnought was from. His corporation's buyers stretched across galaxies. Regardless of the three-man invasion, Bin didn't want to anger possible customers by killing an untold number of people in a so-far-peaceful dreadnought.