Sage released him, allowing his unconscious body to roll off. Then she checked his pulse. There was none. She unlatched his helmet and pulled it off. His eyelids remained slightly ajar, but as she felt his crushed trachea with her human hand, it began to shiver.
“Forgive me…” she whispered, her throat tight.
As if it were reflex, she spoke a prayer to the Spirit of the Earth for him under her breath. It was the least she could do with so little time. “This day is yet another test of my conviction, but though the Earth may be wreathed in flame and shadow, she remains within me. May those who have left to join this essence guide my daily endeavors. Redemption is near.”
The floor vibrated from a mech placing down another supply crate. Sage pulled the guard’s body as tightly against her own as she could. Her artificial hand was steady, but she couldn’t keep her human one from shaking. Remorse was a new emotion for her. So foreign that she couldn’t even bear to look at the soldier as she removed his armored suit piece by piece.
She knew she couldn’t waste any time before any more patrols strolled through. She had to focus. She swallowed hard and removed her own armor. Once she was down to the tattered tunic Cassius had provided her, she put on the Tribunal armor. It was built for a man, so it didn’t quite fit right, but that at least allowed her artificial arm to slide inside the loose carbon-fiber sleeve.
Once she had everything on except for the helmet, Sage dragged the body and placed it in the duct from where she’d emerged. She reached in, closed his eyes gently, and whispered, “May the Spirit guide you always.”
Then she glanced down at her suit of white nano-armor. It’d been with her since the day the council named her an executor. Every executor had their own unique set. Hers had one bulkier sleeve to house the arm that Cassius had constructed.
The hangar’s bright lights revealed all the blemishes along its plating. There were too many scratches and dents to count. So many that she couldn’t even remember how a single one was caused, but she knew she’d earned all of them.
She’d always served loyally, and no matter what her superiors might have thought, she would never betray them like Cassius did. Once Elisha was safe and her promise to Talon was fulfilled, Sage could work to prove her faith in the Spirit. Then she could come back for her suit.
Using her blade to cut a hole on the inside of the shaft, she stuffed the sleeve of her suit inside to pin it there. She removed the bloody bandage from her head as well and tossed it in. The skin was still tender underneath, but the rest of her body was so sore the pain barely registered. She stretched what was left of her red hair taut and sliced it off with her wrist-blade before throwing it in loose as well. Before long, everything except her armor would be expelled from the ship and buried under layers of Titan’s ice and rock.
After doing her best to reseal the hatch, she picked up the deceased guard’s helmet and placed it over her head. It was wobbly and reeked of sweat, but it would keep her face concealed beyond close inspection.
Her transformation was complete.
21
Chapter Twenty-One—Talon
Talon sat on the ledge of the secluded promontory in the West 534 Housing District. His favorite place on Ceres. Where he’d gone to be alone ever since he was a child.
He held up the holopad Zaimur had given to him and watched surveillance footage from the day Elisha and Julius had left for Kalliope. Julius had his hand wrapped around the side of her head, likely to try to hide her from Zaimur. Just like Talon had asked him to. He made her look tiny.
There was no question that it was her, though. That was evident enough when Julius said something and she turned around to nudge him playfully in the side. At that moment Talon could make out the faint profile of her face and the green of her eyes.
No tears dripped down Talon’s cheeks as he watched. His eyes had already dried out. He didn’t bother to imagine how many times he’d watched the recording on repeat since he’d left the Morastus compound. Every time it started, he felt like his heart was being freshly ripped out.
“Talon,” a man said. He didn’t bother to look. Whoever it was, Talon hoped they would put a bullet in the back of his head before he had a chance to get anybody else killed.
“What are you doing up here?” As the man got closer, Talon could hear the whining of mechanical joints.
He lowered the holopad and glanced back. “I’d ask you the same.”
Tarsis drew a hood back from over his head to reveal his sallow, veiny face. “Kitt went looking for you after you never returned. He spotted you coming up here and told me you’ve been up here for hours. He wanted me to let you know that the inebriated woman you two saw earlier is safe and asleep.”
“Good. That makes one of us.”
“The docks are a madhouse. That was the only way I was able to slip past the crowds without being spotted. Mercenaries wearing yellow emblems have flocked from all corners of Ceres, shouting about how they’re going to show the Tribune real justice. Endless lines of Ceresians are being recruited onto their warships.”
“Warships? So it’s really happening.”
“Trust me, I may be from the Verge, but I know a ship prepped for battle when I see one. These aren’t just normal transports.”
“It’s the Lakura Clan. They’re going to strike the Tribune first.”
“Alone?”
“Most likely.” Talon sighed. “One last suicide run to honor our ancestors.”
“Don’t talk like that.” It took some effort with his mechanical exoskeleton on, but Tarsis took a seat beside Talon. “What’s that?” He pointed to the pad in Talon’s hands.
It took a few seconds for Talon to muster the strength to speak. “She’s… she’s gone, she…” Talon sniveled. “All that and she’s just gone.”
“Who’s gone?” Tarsis asked.
“Elisha.” Saying it out loud made it all too real. “They killed her, and we’ve already seen her grave. We just didn’t know it. Julius too.” Talon’s jaw trembled. “I left her behind with him before leaving her,” he explained. “He took her there to keep her safe and now… I thought Kalliope had already taken everything it could from me… But what did I—”
Before he could say another word, Tarsis pulled Talon’s head to his chest. He didn’t fight it. He listened to his new friend’s ragged breaths as he cried, finally letting it all out. He’d survived hell and returned, for nothing. Even with the blue death, he’d gotten his daughter killed before him.
Once Talon was able to soften his sobs, Tarsis held him at arm’s length.
“Kalliope was just a floating rock,” he said. “They took her from you.”
Talon wiped his cheeks and took a few short breaths. “They’ll take us all before they’re done. Who would’ve ever thought Cassius Vale would be right?”
“I’m sure the bastard would be happy to hear that.”
They sat quietly after that, staring out at the bright lights of the Dome together. For a second, Talon considered visiting there and scrounging up as much synthrol and pharma as he could to help numb the pain in his chest. That was until he remembered the last time he’d turned to the bottle for help, when he’d accidentally killed the miner on Kalliope and got caught up in Zaimur Morastus’ plotting.
Instead, he closed his eyes and tried to picture Elisha as best he could. He remembered the devilish little smile she’d put on when she didn’t feel like bathing or eating the nutrient supplements he bought for her.
“So what now, Talon Rayne?” Tarsis asked.
“I really don’t know,” Talon admitted. “But I’m sorry I got you into this.”
“I don’t want to hear it. We’re here now, and because of you I got to see something I never thought I’d see again. If there is a Spirit of the Earth, I’m starting to doubt it gives two shits about the vows of one broken old Keeper.”
“Well, I know I’m not going to stay here, at least.”
“Thinking about doing something s
tupid?”
Talon glared directly into Tarsis’ eyes. “I’m going to kill all of them, Tarsis,” he said, seething. “Every single one. If the Tribune wants a war, I’m going to help give it to them.”
“Well, you aren’t going to do it alone. You think they’ll take me like this?” Tarsis held out his arm and ran the fingers of his other hand down the exo-suit parts along the length of it.
“I think they’ll take every gun they can get,” Talon said, placing his hand on Tarsis’ shoulder. “Too bad you’re not coming. You’ve got a crew to help now.”
“Too bad I don’t take orders from Ceresians,” Tarsis joked, and then his lips straightened into a line. “I had a crew once. It was nice to see my people again, but we’re in this together now.”
“Tarsis, I—” Talon paused and exhaled. “The last time I was standing on this lookout, I begged the closest friend I had in the world to stay behind with my only daughter while I did something stupid. Now they’re—”
“Dead,” Tarsis finished. “And it’s not your fault what happened on Kalliope. And it won’t be your fault when I go either. In the end, I chose to leave that ark with you because you helped me remember what was beyond it. I’m tired of invisible enemies, waiting to die. Let’s go kill some people we know deserve it.”
Talon couldn’t fight the smile tugging on the corner of his lips. “I’ll owe you one.”
“You’re just lucky I have nowhere else to be.”
* * *
They met up with Kitt and made their way back to the Monarch. Talon wondered if they were the strangest group to ever stroll through the heart of Ceres without cuffs around their wrists. Two Vergents, one of whom was so deeply affected by the blue death that he needed an entire exoskeletal suit to help him walk, and one Ceresian outcast who would soon need a suit of his own. The people of Ceres were in such a frenzy that nobody seemed to notice.
And Tarsis hadn’t been lying. The Buckle was more packed than Talon could ever remember seeing it. He had been just a small child during the Earth Reclaimer War, so he couldn’t say what it’d been like then. And this was only one clan leading the movement. When the Morastus Clan and others joined in, he pictured the entire asteroid beginning to spin faster under the weight of its inhabitants flooding to the Buckle.
Talon took them on the quickest route to reaching the dock where the Monarch was waiting. Once they were close enough, he tugged on Kitt’s collar.
“Tell your captain that she has my eternal gratitude,” Talon said.
“Not comin’?” Kitt asked.
“Listen carefully. Tell her I’m sorry I can’t get her a deal right now, but to wait a few days after the Lakura fleet sets off. Exchange what you have for fuel, and then let the Morastus dockmasters know you’re the ones who transported me here. They should let you all leave without a fuss, and if they don’t, ask to speak with Zargo Morastus. Use my name. Once you’re out, track the fleet to 5261 Eureka. That’s where they’ll be attacking, and there’ll be plenty for you to scavenge after the battle. You got all that?”
Kitt nodded hesitantly. He looked toward Tarsis. “And you?”
“I’m going with him,” Tarsis said, his scraggly beard lifting from a smirk. “You’ll have to wait a bit to kick my ass in chess again. Now go. It’s good advice he’s giving you. I’ve seen my fair share of scrapyards after warships go at it. You’ll be sitting on riches by the time you get back to the Verge.”
Kitt waited in silence for a few moments, like he wasn’t sure what to do next. Talon decided not to drag it out. He was getting tired of goodbyes. He patted the young Vergent on the shoulder twice and then headed in the other direction. Tarsis and the boy exchanged a few more words before he hurried to catch up, his suit creaking from moving so fast.
“You sure about this?” Tarsis asked, wheezing from the short jog.
“I’m sure,” Talon responded.
They weaved through traffic toward the Lakura docking shaft and found the shortest line onto their main warship, the Lutetia—named after their once-proud android production colony.
The frigate appeared as if it were wrapped in a great metal quilt, every plate along its blocky hull originating from a different mine or time period. Some of them were aged enough to show clear signs of oxidation, while others remained shiny. It boasted an impressive array of weapons systems snugly along its hull too, including a row of familiar-looking ship-buster chambers.
Talon didn’t care. He knew exactly what he was signing up for.
Lakura mercs sat behind a table, accepting recruits of any background. Behind them, watching from the shadows, was a woman Talon hadn’t seen since the days he used to accompany Zargo Morastus to Ceresian Pact meetings.
Yara Lakura’s hard, unyielding glare was infamous, and it was being used to full effect as she watched her people prepare for battle, twirling her jagged knife on a table.
Seeing her made things perfectly clear, beyond a shadow of a doubt. A war was about to start, and Ceres might not live to see the end of it.
“Can you use two more?” Talon asked one of the Lakura mercs outside the ship.
The man looked them over. His gaze lingered for a while on Tarsis, whose brightly colored veins and exo-suit were impossible not to notice in such close proximity. He turned to Yara for her opinion. Her stern features didn’t shift in the slightest; she just kept spinning her knife.
After a few seconds, she nodded. The merc looked back and grinned.
“I’m not even gonna ask, but you two sure as hell ain’t no spies with them veins,” he said. “Screw the Keepers. Grab some armor and a pulse-rifle; we can use all the hands we can get. Let’s go kill us some Tribunals.”
22
Chapter Twenty-Two—Sage
Sage was accustomed to having to take on false identities. She’d probably spent more time over the recent years pretending not to be Sage Volus than she had being herself.
It felt different this time though. Everything felt different.
She emerged from the storage crates in the Ascendant’s hangar, making sure to walk slightly up on the balls of her feet so that she would more closely match the height of the soldier she was replacing. On an average day it might’ve been noticeable that something was off, but there were too many ships and supplies being carried in, too many people.
Hundreds of soldiers in armor identical to hers were now being shepherded onto the Ascendant. Security scanned their retinas as they entered, likely searching for her. Even grungy-looking citizens of Titan were being allowed entry—refugees from the shaft colonies Cassius had crippled. New conscripts.
Already within the ship, Sage quickly folded into the ranks of a formation closest to the end of the hangar leading deeper into the Ascendant. As the soldiers stood still, an Earth Whisperer came walking by, his cane clicking against the metal floor.
The man had a long scraggly gray beard and bushy eyebrows, which did enough to draw the attention away from the scars rendering his eyes useless. Just like all those of his order, his dark green robe had a sash crafted from thin strands of interwoven tree bark.
“The heretics have struck here at our hearts in order to attempt to shake your spirits,” he shouted. His voice was raspy, though powerful enough to fill that area of the room over the din of the watching crowd. “But we are as unshakable as the trees of ancient Earth. Our roots run deep in faith. Your Tribune shall watch over you now. Those responsible shall be punished!”
The soldier next to Sage turned to her and whispered, “About time. I had family here. If those Ceresians think Cassius Vale can save them, they’re dead wrong.”
She wasn’t sure what exactly he meant, but she couldn’t imagine that Cassius would ever join them, or that they would ever accept his help.
“We are blessed with ground beneath us,” the Earth Whisperer began the communal prayer. He crouched and grazed the floor with his fingertips. Everyone in the hangar did the same, and between every sentence from the priest came l
ong pauses and haunting silence. Even the mechs stopped moving.
Sage kneeled as well, though she didn’t repeat the prayers. All she could think about was how she wanted to yank the Earth Whisperer aside and ask him what the Spirit wanted from her—why she was being so vigorously tested. She held herself back. She would have plenty of time to ask the Spirit of the Earth after she was dead. For now, she knew she had to blend in as best she could.
“May my faith be eternal and unwavering,” the Earth Whisperer continued. “So that I may one day walk the Earth’s untainted surface with those deserving at my side.”
Sage managed to bring herself to repeat those last words at least, which always served to soothe her.
The Earth Whisperer stood, and the entire hangar mimicked him. Then a flood of Tribunal honor guards marched into the hangar. They fanned out to a line in front of the waiting army, and in their center stood Tribune Benjar Vakari.
It really is war, Sage thought. He rarely presented himself publically unless it was an important message.
Holorecorders were aimed at him, and projections of the other two living Tribunes popped up at his side, watching. The entire New Earth Tribunal was going to hear his words. Even as Sage watched the man who’d apparently ordered her death prepare to speak, a shiver shot up her spine. She couldn’t deny that she had been waiting for this day for years—the day when the Tribune was finally going to unite all of humanity and help them see the truth of the Spirit.
“My people!” Benjar announced. His voice was so amplified that each word made the floor vibrate. “For too long we have sat idly by, hoping our enemies would heed our faith. Too long we have seen the Circuit suffer under the sullied hands of those unwilling to see the light. We showed the Ceresians mercy all those long years ago, and for it they have not repented. They have not changed their ways. Instead, they have turned to the help of an exile and a traitor. Cassius Vale!
The Circuit: The Complete Saga Page 43