by F. C. Reed
“My loyalties are not in question, and those who were with me on the battlefield can attest to the fact that I made every attempt to take his life.”
“This proves my very point. Every time Bastille presents himself, he somehow manages to slip away. He is a hulking, brooding, humongous man. How is it he gets away every time? Please make me understand.”
“The details of war are never easy. They’re never straightforward. It may seem like convenience, but—
“I was the one who pulled the general away from what may have been a very decisive blow to the Iron General, to be sure. I pulled her away for her own safety and the safety of her men,” Captain Ursin said.
“Oh, then you are to blame?” the sky marshal said, turning towards Captain Ursin.
“He is not to blame,” the primus said, his voice hinting at irritation. “If anyone is to blame, then let it be me. After all, my lineage is charged with keeping this realm from harm.”
“But Primus, if I may be permitted,” the sky marshal started.
“You are not permitted,” the primus growled. “In the heat of battle, we do what we must. Even I as your primus know that.” The primus paused, frowning. “I would welcome no more comments from you, sky marshal. Thank you for your… observations.”
“Her loyalty to this man, this monster, is to be rewarded with praise? She cannot kill him. We all know why. She has shown us this time and time again. Would you be able to do the same in her position?”
“Mind your tone, Sky Marshal,” the primus warned.
Sky Marshal Sesanji continued without hesitation. “Would you be able to kill your kinsman, even if he was branded an enemy of the nation-state and a traitor? Would you be able to preside over such a thing as this? Where do your loyalties lie?”
“Sky marshal, that is enough!” the primus boomed. “I have tolerated your faithless arrogance to the last. Remove yourself from this hall. Now.”
The sky marshal bowed her head slightly and stood up.
The primus continued once she began marching herself toward the exit. “I will present that General Strann’s command of the Crimson Bloodguard has been one of honor, duty, and courage, even with this last encounter weighing so heavily on us. And I feel as though no other commander general has performed that duty as successfully as she has. It is my intention to make her the Prime Chancellor in—
“Hold that thought, Primus,” the sky marshal said as she spun on her heel to face the council. “That really won’t be necessary.”
The primus sighed with an impatience that permeated the room in a wave. “You have been dismissed, Sky Marshal.”
“Oh shut up, you old fool, and listen for once,” the sky marshal said.
The primus shot upright, toppling his chair. “I beg your pardon?”
“I said shut up. There is much more to discuss. But I will not sit through an endless barrage of bickering the same as every other day. I’m about to change the way we do business.” Before returning to her seat, she opened the doors to the conference hall. More than a dozen skyguard and six armed and armored Imperium agents, telltale in their long black coats, marched in and lined themselves up against the walls of the conference room.
“Remember who it is you are addressing, sky marshal. My mood cannot support your attitude today. You will leave before I see fit to relieve you.”
“Tetra?” General Strann asked, much more concerned than annoyed. “What are you doing?”
“Your mood, sir?” the sky marshal said, ignoring General Strann. “Your mood, pathetically enough, still reflects your wife’s death some years ago. Her death obstructs the effectiveness of your performance. And it shouldn’t. She is no longer alive to worry you with her deceit, lies, and mistrust.”
“Tetra Sesanji, I hereby relieve you of all rank and privilege of the command position of sky marshal. Guards, get this woman out of here.”
None of them so much as moved a muscle. The primus pointed to guards along the wall and lined at the back exit. “Remove her,” he repeated, his voice stern and strained.
Sky Marshal Sesanji laughed. “You forget, dear primus, precisely to whom the Skyguard are truly loyal.” She smiled. “Now shut the hells up and let me finish.”
The primus, his mouth agape, stared incredulously at the soldiers lining the walls, a hint of confusion creasing his brow.
“You may as well sit down too,” she motioned.
General Strann stood from her seat. “Sky marshal, have you gone mad? This is mutinous behavior.”
“Ryna,” She spat the name in disgust. “The biggest liar of them all. I’d be willing to bet this was your idea, but I’ll get to you soon enough. We’ll talk about treason and lawlessness and anarchy and mutinous behavior. You know, things that make the world go around.”
The primus righted his chair and took his seat again. “Let her dig her grave, general.”
“Thank you,” she nodded to the primus. “Although I’m sure I am about to dig the both of yours. Now I was berating you about your wife, if I recall. All living things die in time, primus. And it is for that reason I will not give you my sympathy. Your grief should have long passed, which surprised me for a man of your former stature. And all for what? Today, tomorrow, and forever, your wife will still be among the dead. I predicted your grief to be your downfall and also proof to us all how the aethersphere itself was in such err to have put you as its primus. But something misguided me. Your involvement in this ascension charade for the last fifteen years was much more damaging than my grief stricken old man theory. You’re guilty of far more than that.”
The primus glanced at General Strann before facing the sky marshal. “Guilty? What nonsense are you talking about? And what is it you think I’ve done?” he asked, his voice shaky with anxiety.
The guards closed in on the rest of the occupants as the sky marshal stood.
“Valister Argos, you are guilty of treason, conspiracy to commit treason, inciting the populace to revolt, warmongering, and perjury for asserting that the Amalia girl is an Itaran descendant and the Lioness of the Red,” she said with a small triumphant grin.
General Strann swallowed hard before speaking. “Sky marshal, I don’t know what you think you’ve found—
“Shut. Up.” Sky Marshal Sesanji barked. “I have had enough of your lies. Fifteen years of lies. The girl is a clone of the commander general, fed dreams and personality and memory by Marchand Gadot. She had an entire emotional experience fashioned to hone her responses to traumatic events. Emotions implanted into her psyche so she knew love and hate and resentment and jealousy.”
The room sat quietly in the revelation. There seemed to be a collective holding of breaths in the moments that followed.
“It’s all quite clever. Rather than having a clueless genetic fleshbag flopping about like a fish out of water, you have tempered her temperament and given her emotional experience. I would not have thought it possible, but again, I was wrong.”
General Strann’s head slumped, but her eyes burned with rage. “Don’t do this. We need her.”
Sky Marshal Sesanji turned on her and flashed another smile. “That’s your argument for breaking the most fundamental of laws on this plane and misleading the people you are sworn to protect? By telling them that this clone is an Itaran descendant of the Red Lion?” Her smile broke and twisted her features. “You need her? That’s what you’ve been telling yourselves all this time?” Sky Marshal Sesanji paused long enough to curl up her lip. “She’s a clone!” The sky marshal was nearly yelling. “She’s a clone of you, and you are less than half Itaran yourself. What purpose does any of this serve? The Itarans are gone. All of them. Swallow that like bad medicine.” She eyeballed the general who glared back at her. “This half-breed sought to rekindle her Itaran people with a clone of herself. Isn’t that right, Ryna?”
General Strann said nothing.
“Arrest them. Anyone associated with Strann or her clone is to be detained. As of this moment, I re-t
ask this realm as a military nation-state under my jurisdiction. Effective immediately, my authority is absolute and in effect until further notice.”
The soldiers moved in to detain them, placing shock-locks on their wrists, meant to give a disabling jolt if their wrists stray too far apart.
“Place them into the detention cells. Except the former primus. Place him under house arrest. He’ll be dead in a handful of weeks from the red terror, anyway.” She turned a thoughtful eye upon him. “It does makes me wonder about your son, with all this cloning going on. Which is why he would be more than happy to speak with us, I’m sure.”
“Leave him out of this,” the primus hissed. “He’s done nothing wrong.”
The sky marshal smiled. “Let’s see… how old is Thanial? And when did your wife die?” she paused for effect. “It may seem that something doesn’t fit where it should. Or you have a consort.” Then she grimaced. “But somehow I doubt that.”
The primus grit his teeth and attempted to keep the snarl from sneaking onto his face.
General Strann made eye contact with Captain Ursin as she was being escorted away. He was not in shock-locks. He stood with his shoulder to her, his face grayed over with emotion.
“Colonel Ursin,” the sky marshal said to him. “See to it that all of her contacts, allies, and acquaintances, are arrested for conspiracy and accessory.” She gave him a stern look. “Marchand Gadot, Thanial Dumiir, and that fat hen of a medicus are your prime targets. Bring the girl to me. Kill her if you must. I don’t particularly care. But if you do, know that you will have to answer to the Imperium.”
She strode toward the exit, acknowledging the shackled general with a nod.
“Oh, that reminds me. Send someone to pick up that uncivilized baboon who calls herself an admiral. She’ll come in handy, I’m sure.” Then she stopped in her tracks. “And do something with her mouth. Tape it shut. She’s likely to chat us all to death. Gods, I can hear that farmer’s accent now,” she said with a shudder. “Fixin’ and y’all and caint. I’d rather have a stick run through my eye.”
General Strann’s jaws clenched. She focused that anger at her former side officer. “Colonel Ursin?” General Strann hissed. When he did not look at her, she knew. Trembling with fury, she said, “Have the gods-be-damned courage to look me in the eye when you betray me.” It came out as a growl as she scanned the rest of the men. “Who else has turned? Lieutenant Larue? You were a sergeant yesterday. And Major Innso, also promoted beyond your station. I can see that lots of advancement come with betrayal.”
“I am a First Tier Colonel,” Ursin said with a sneer. “The Crimson Bloodguard are under my command now. I don’t yet wear the red cloak, but that will settle soon enough across my shoulders.”
“The Bloodguard are loyal to me,” General Strann said. “They were loyal to us. You have found it in yourself to support this woman and turn against all that we stand for.”
“They are not loyal to you anymore. Neither am I. Your guard all but died in the last defense, thanks to your leadership.” Ursin watched her for a moment, the contempt playing across his features. “It’s interesting that you keep throwing this word ‘betrayal’ around. I didn’t betray you.”
“What the hells are you talking about, Jay? Listen to yourself, for the gods’ sake.”
“Don’t call me that. It was you who betrayed your nation-state. It was you who betrayed our trust, and it was you who betrayed me,” Colonel Ursin spat, his words glossed over with anger. “Keeping the girl’s origins a secret shows your trust in me. Or lack thereof. Had I known you were growing your very own goldenblooded skinjob, I would never have pledged my loyalty to you all those years ago. What a waste of my service.”
He turned to his entourage as they shoved Strann out of the room. “Lieutenant, take a large detail to the medicarium for Oshalla Vennone. You’ll need it. Major Innso, see if you can gather up Thanial Dumiir, the primus regent, although I suspect he is long gone by now. And I will bring in the armsmaster, Marchand Gadot.”
General Strann, a foot taller than any of her escorts, squared her shoulders as she allowed herself to be led out. She couldn’t help but wonder why the sky marshal didn’t call for the arrest of Dorran Visig or the taskmaster. And based on that, she also couldn’t help but wonder if the treachery and betrayal of her fellow senior commanders stopped with Ursin, or started with him.
Chapter Forty
“Great. Finally, you’re here,” Janil said. His face pinched in concern. “And you came alone?” he grabbed Amalia’s arm and pulled her into the room before glancing out the door.
“Janil, what’s this about?” she scanned his face.
“I’ve finally figured it all out,” he said in an excited but anxious tone. His hurried speech made her even more concerned. “Look at this.” He shoved a black notebook into Amalia’s hand. It was an old and worn leather-bound brief, filled with yellowing paper. She glanced at it, then shrugged it off.
“So what?”
“What do you mean, ‘so what?’ Look at what’s in it.” Janil flapped a hand toward the book impatiently.
Thumbing through the pages gave her no further clues what she was looking at. The book held what looked like complex chemical formulas, scribblings, notes, and cross-outs with more numbers, figures, and calculations. Finally, she shrugged and said, “I’m sorry. I have no idea what this is supposed to be. A recipe for coleslaw, perhaps?”
Janil’s face fell flat. “Bah, well I suppose you wouldn’t know.” He scratched at the back of his head. “How do I explain this?” His voice trailed off as he searched the corners of his brain.
“Just say it,” Amalia huffed. “How bad could it really be?”
Janil took a deep breath as he looked back at her with a hardness to his face. “Okay. Well, remember when we pulled you through the transdimensional sourceway, and I was all like, ‘what the green hells, General Strann. That there transdimensional sourceway is impossibly unable to host another person.’”
“You didn’t quite say that, but yes, I remember. I remember throwing up on you too. Never apologized for that. Sorry.”
“Oh, don’t mention it. Anyway, then I was all like, ‘what the green hells! Is this the Lioness of the Red? She’s so short.’ And then your—
“Yes, I remember. What does this have to do with anything?” Amalia said, irritation growing on her features.
“Well, when you came through the sourceway, you had a distinct pattern of little blue glowing circles down the insides of your arms and also down the back of your neck. And probably your spine, too.”
“Yes, I was marked in the other plane. You and Kharius had to scrub the mark so I wouldn’t be traced.”
“Oh, the tales men tell,” he replied with a shake of his head. “Those blue circles. That pattern. I’ve seen it before.”
“Really? Where?”
“On myself. Same pattern, same placement. Same blue circles. I didn’t think anything of it until you popped through that sourceway.”
“So they marked you at some point?”
Janil shook his head. “Nope. Never. Never even been to another plane, because I’m no Munara Tai and I have no Itaran ancestry. Shifting to other planes is impossible for me. Besides, I doubt I’m even important enough to mark.”
Amalia’s brow furrowed. “Well, maybe it’s a side effect of passing through the transdimensional sourceway. Who knows?”
Janil shook his head again. “I’ve never been through a sourceway. I don’t even know if anyone else can create them. It’s kinda General Strann’s thing and only responds to her biosignature.”
Amalia frowned now. “That can’t be right, then. I’m a completely unique person. If it only responds to her biosignature—
“Then you should not have been able to pass through,” Janil finished. “This was odd to me, and I did some snooping around. A lot of snooping, actually. My dear brother, the bastard, forgot to codelock a storage unit in the lab one day, and I was
curious to see what was inside. I found this book. Odd, given that nobody handwrites anything anymore, unless they want it to be inaccessible electronically. I also found a row of containment systems, used for stasis and other, more medical stuff, but these were heavily modified with all sorts of things I won’t go into. They all were empty except for one. And when I walked over to it and peeked in, I was terribly surprised to see that the damn thing inside looked just like me. Those notes in your hand? They’re calculation adjustments and observations for the other me inside that containment system.”
Amalia followed his story, not knowing if whether or not she wanted to believe him. “I don’t like where this is going,” she whispered.
“Amalia, do you know how old I am?” he said, with a sad look. “I’m three. I’m three gods-be-damned years old. And from what I have been able to decipher, there have been at least four other models before me. They keep expiring. I just hope my lifespan is a lot longer than three years.”
“I definitely don’t like where this is going,” Amalia said.
“The biomass inside the containment system had electrodes and tubes,” he said, gesturing up and down the insides of his arms and then his neck. “Stuck in spots where we’ve both had strange little blue circles.”
Amalia swallowed hard. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Not even. I have a family. I have memories of my mother and father. A lifetime of memories. School, bullies, tests, lacrosse.”
“All crafted. All implanted. Think about it. There’s no way I can know all that I know as an arkineer in three years. And I have a wealth of history as my brother’s twin. I’m forced to believe that they’re all lies implanted for effect.”
“I refuse to—
Janil thumbed through the logbook and pulled out a holophoto. A grainy blue and green image materialized when he placed his thumb over the activation circle in its corner. Once the picture was clear, he shoved it at Amalia.
“Is this a picture of me? I don’t remember taking this.” She frowned. “And I don’t recognize anyone else in the—