ADIM heard Cassius sniffle. He was about to ask if he’d displeased him when he answered, “You are ADIM.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll have to get used to that too, then.”
“It is a more efficient term as well.”
“That it is. Now where are you, ADIM? You’ll have to locate me with my systems down.”
A missile burst near the Shadow Chariot, sending a piece of shrapnel shredding through its narrow wing. The interior of the vessel had been rattling from acceleration g-forces, but with its body compromised, it was beginning to tear itself apart.
“I have impaired the Ascendant, and I am now on a course for Mars,” ADIM said.
“Mars?” Cassius asked. “We are going to Ennomos. You’ve bought us the time we needed, and now it’s our chance to show the Circuit what we’ve made.”
“My presence on Ennomos is unnecessary. I have discovered a means to ensure that none can ever stand against your will. Within the New Terrene Enclave, the Vale Protocol requires both an iris scan and a subdermal handprint from an active Tribune to be accessed. I will go there and assume control of the fleet of the New Earth Tribunal so that you always have one.”
A missile locked onto the Shadow Chariot. There was no way for ADIM to evade it in such a state. He had to wait until the last possible moment to eject so they’d think he was destroyed.
“ADIM, you’ll be wasting your time,” Cassius said. “They will have deactivated the protocol in all of their vessels by now to keep me out of it.”
“Yes. However, they moved too quickly into war and believe that by deactivating the protocol, they have eliminated it,” ADIM said. “They have not. I investigated the Ascendant and saw that the coding remains dormant, in fragments. I can take control if I am able to reach the New Terrene Enclave.”
“It was never meant to provide control! It’s just a means of disabling and tracking, you know that.”
“I was not designed to take control of the White Hand, yet I have. ‘Building blocks.’ Your work shall be augmented and allow us to remove your greatest threat from the equation. The gravitum bombs will allow us to begin enlightening the people of the Circuit. Together we will set them on a proper course, just as you always intended.”
ADIM unhooked the cord connecting him to the Shadow Chariot’s power core, tilted the ship down so that the cockpit faced Mars, and then ejected. Inertia sustained his velocity, and right after he was free, the Shadow Chariot was blown into a thousand shimmering pieces.
It was a gift from the Creator that ADIM hoped would never be destroyed, but its sacrifice would allow him to finally provide Cassius with his own gift worthy of everything he’d given.
“ADIM…” Cassius began. His cracking tone insinuated that he was greatly distressed. “I want you at my side when we go to Earth. Nobody else deserves to stand there. We can handle the Tribune afterwards. We always have.”
ADIM’s very memory core seemed to sputter at the thought of being the cause of Cassius’ dismay. It went against everything he was. He knew, however, that he had no other choice. It was the sacrifice he had to make. Humanity had taught him enough lessons to be sure of that.
“I assure you that this is the only way, Creator,” he said.
Cassius swallowed audibly. “The last time I let a child of mine make a decision like this, he never came back.”
“I will not fail.”
“You never do.” Cassius sighed. “I don’t suppose I can stop you, can I, ADIM? Stubborn… just like your father.”
“You cannot. Proceed to Earth, and when you reach it, all our enemies will be eradicated. I must revert to a low-power state to avoid detection on my approach to Mars. I will not be able to communicate.”
“I understand. I hope you can find a way to be there with me when Earth breaks open. It will be a beautiful sight.”
“Do not worry. I will be. Goodbye, Creator.”
Cassius took another deep breath, followed by a pause of two-point-eight seconds. “Goodbye, ADIM.”
15
Chapter Fifteen—Cassius
“Goodbye, Creator,” ADIM said into Cassius’ ear. They were words he’d heard hundreds of times before, but never had ADIM been the first to utter them. It made Cassius’ chest sting in a way he thought it no longer could, like the first time he’d bid farewell to Caleb before he went off to try to fix an unfixable planet.
It won’t be like that, Cassius told himself before he responded, “Goodbye, ADIM.” As soon as he said the words, the feed went quiet, another oddity, since usually it was he who deactivated the comm-link.
There was no doubt that ADIM’s strategy was logical. In truth, Cassius hadn’t planned for what would happen after he split apart Earth with gravitum bombs like he had Kalliope. What followed he’d always intended to leave in the hands of the Circuit. It was a dangerous proposition, one that clearly made ADIM uncomfortable.
My creation after all, Cassius thought, holding back a smirk.
He stared through the viewport of the White Hand. The stars were the only source of illumination, as everything but the command console beside his seat was deactivated. After being hit by a rail gun on his approach to the Ascendant, the main energy line for the White Hand’s ion drives had been severed, forcing him to divert power from the rest of the ship’s systems to be able to outrun the Tribune.
He could only hope that Sage was safe, since neither she nor Talon were answering on the established comms channel. She also wouldn’t respond to the messages he’d transmitted through their twin holorecorders. His scanners did manage to pick up the Vergent ship Monarch retrieving her before he switched them off, but that didn’t mean she’d escaped the Tribunal fleet.
There was no time to blindly seek out the Vergents in the vastness of space. As it was, the White Hand had taken more damage than Cassius could ever recall. Shots from rail guns had come inches from crippling the engines entirely, and one had torn open a portion of the rear hull.
With the power required to utilize the plasmatic shield impaired, the entire ship was peppered with holes and scorched by errant missile fire. Cassius’ own arsenal of weapons was low from having to destroy six fighters before he was in the clear.
They weren’t the results Cassius expected when he, ADIM, and Sage had devised their plan, though it would successfully buy him the time he and the Ceresians needed, as well as provide him with a realistic explanation for having a gravitum bomb.
He reached up and switched on the comm-link in his left ear, connected to his lesser androids on Ennomos. “My creations,” he said, “I will be at Ennomos in approximately four days. I expect the bombs to be ready upon my arrival. Prepare them for transport.”
“Yes, Creator,” they replied as one. “Preparations are set to be completed in seventy-six hours and thirty-six minutes.”
He sighed in relief. His bold attack on Benjar had bought them almost exactly enough time; otherwise Benjar would already be on his way to conquering Pallus without any resistance.
“And the work on converting the solar-ark?” Cassius asked.
“The cryo-chambers are now able to achieve true absolute zero. The test subjects were lost upon attempted thawing; however, the latest to be removed remains alive and on respirators. These units will perform further tests while the creator is traveling.”
“Excellent! It will be ready for her, then. Keep up the good work. The day of the Circuit’s reckoning is coming.”
“Yes, Creator.”
Cassius leaned back. The command deck was quieter than ever. He could barely hear the hum of the few systems remaining operational, little more than the air recyclers and engines. There was nothing to do other than continue to watch the stars.
He couldn’t contact Zaimur and inform him that the Ascendant had been successfully hindered. He couldn’t switch on any newsfeeds and learn the fate of the latest Ceresian colony to be conquered by Cordo Yashan’s fleet. All he could do was stare out into the infinite depths of space and wonder if
maybe there was another Earth around one of the countless glistening specks he saw there—another world with gravitum, or so suitable for human life that they wouldn’t need to alter anything.
Freedom, he thought.
There was nothing left to stand in his way. Earth, the very planet that stole his son from him, was going to die. For good this time.
He closed his eyes and let the gentle currents of space lull him into a much-needed slumber.
16
Chapter Sixteen—Sage
Sage limped quietly down the dim corridors. Kitt had a few other handy skills beyond piloting. He’d been busy in the med-bay, trying to repair Sage’s artificial arm, before Captain Larana summoned everyone to the galley.
The arm was so extensively damaged that it remained mostly useless. Circuits and wires jutted out from a wide gash around the elbow, and Sage knew it would never look as sleek as it had after Cassius completed it. Though Kitt’s work did allow her to achieve a slight twitch of the pinky finger at least.
Her arm was only one of many problems, however. She’d spent hours recovering in the med-bay after injuries caused her to black out in space. The leg Yavortha twisted wasn’t broken, but she couldn’t put all of her weight on it. She also had to lean on the walls with her human arm due to the relentless throbbing of the bullet hole in her hip. The Vergents had offered her the finest treatment they were capable of, but that was a far cry from what she would have received in the hands of Cassius or on New Terrene.
They’d rubbed some synthrol on the bullet hole and stitched it up by hand with a needle. It was so excruciating without her executor implant that she even considered ripping the bottle out of her surgeon’s hands and taking a drink to dull the pain. It wasn’t worth the awful taste.
As she limped along in the present, Sage realized that she had no mission at all anymore. There was nowhere for her to go. Nothing she needed to do. It helped her understand the Vergents, who made space their home, traveling from place to place.
The struggle to survive was their eternal mission, yet even out in the darkness of the void, one of them found faith. Tarsis had managed to find the Spirit before he died, so Sage still knew it was with her. She could feel it deep within her soul, driving her hand as if it wanted her to remove the blaspheming Yavortha from the Circuit. She couldn’t be sure why she was being set on the path she was, but thanks to Tarsis’ faith, she was no longer afraid.
She wasn’t even sure yet how she’d wound up on the Vergent vessel after escaping the Ascendant. “Need help?” Kitt asked from behind her. He didn’t dare place his hands on her to help without permission.
“I’m fine,” Sage muttered. “You go ahead.”
Kitt nodded and hurried along. He made sure to keep his distance and not brush her. Sage groaned just at the sight of how easy he made moving look.
She noticed Talon sitting on the edge of one of the bunks inside a side room. He stared at Elisha. Unlike Sage, the young girl rested. Sage knew from her experience of Tribunal cells that it was likely the first time Elisha was able to sleep peacefully since being detained.
“Talon,” Sage said softly. Projecting her voice only caused a sharper ache to pull at her lower abdomen. He continued gazing at Elisha like he didn’t hear her. She’d never seen him appear so at peace.
“Talon, are you coming?” she asked.
“What?” He glanced up. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, I’ll be right there.”
Talon leaned over and whispered something into Elisha’s ear before placing a kiss on her forehead. He lingered for a few moments longer to run his fingers through her hair before finally turning away.
He had to grab hold of the side of the bunk to lift himself to his feet, moaning gently as he did. Sage could tell he was acting stoic. All the action aboard the Ascendant clearly had his ailing body even sorer than usual.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Better,” Sage lied. “The bullet didn’t hit anything vital.”
“I’m glad.”
He stopped outside the galley and placed his hand on Sage’s human arm, causing goose bumps to rise all along it. She turned and looked into his watery blue eyes. They matched the web of bright veins over his temples.
“Thank you, Sage,” he whispered. “We couldn’t have gotten her without you.”
Her throat went dry. A million responses raced through her battle-weary mind until she settled on one that sounded somewhat Ceresian.
“You saved my life out there with your mech. Call us even.”
She felt foolish just saying it, but Talon smirked.
“We’re getting there,” he replied.
He took a seat across from Captain Larana at the long dining table tucked against a booth along the galley wall. She wore a stern look on her face. Her entire crew was gathered around her, sitting wherever they could find space or leaning on rails.
Sage went to the nearest viewport and sat on the narrow sill. Every Vergent except for Kitt eyed her, like they were ready for her to explode. Kitt propped himself up between two walls nearby and motioned for her artificial arm.
She stretched it out using her human hand onto his lap so that he could pick at some exposed wires with a set of crude tools. Then she stared out through the viewport, out into the starry blackness of open space. They’d escaped the fighters of the Tribune but were speeding along on a course unknown to her.
Somehow, she didn’t mind. She could sail along, absent a mission. Absent everything. The Tribune wouldn’t take her back after killing a Hand, misguided as Yavortha was. There would be no protecting New Terrene for her. No knight in the darkness. Never again.
“Sorry for the wait, Talon,” Larana said. “I wanted to be sure we were clear before discussin’ what happened.”
“That’s fine,” Talon replied.
Larana blew out. “I’m sure most of you’ve noticed, but one of us didn’t make it back. I heard what some of you have been guessin’, but Tarsis didn’t get on another ship or get captured. He fell. It ain’t our custom to die in battle, but the Ancients woulda been proud the way he went.”
Sage felt Kitt’s fingers stop working. He appeared to take the news the hardest. Talon appeared solemn, but Tarsis’ fate was a fact he seemed to have come to grips with. There is little more noble than dying to save a friend’s child. The Spirit would reward the Vergent. Sage knew that, and maybe, deep down, so did Talon.
She herself was used to the feeling of losing comrades in arms. But she was supposed to be the one in Tarsis’ mech. He’d traded his life for hers.
“He was an honorable man,” she said. She only realized she’d said it out loud when everyone glared at her.
“He was,” Talon agreed. He got up and shuffled over to a cooling box. Talon opened the frosty container, which was barely operational like the rest of the ship, and removed the bottle of synthrol left over from Sage’s surgery.
“I don’t know how you all say goodbye to your dead, but where I come from, we bury them first,” he said. “Since we don’t have any rock way out here to do that, I say we skip to the part where we have a drink and remember him fondly.” He lifted the bottle to his mouth and took a swig.
When he was done, he held it up for Larana. “We give the bodies of our fallen back to the Circuit,” Larana said. She remained still for a few more seconds before finally stretching her arm as far as it could go and grasping the bottle. “But Tarsis gave his body up long ago for this place. Your way will have to do.”
Larana handed the bottle to the Vergents nearest to her next, and they passed it around the crew. When it finally reached Sage, she had to swallow the lump in her throat before mustering the courage to take the ice-cold bottle. She couldn’t help but remember the first time she’d tried synthrol back on Ceres, when she spat it out and earned the laughter of Talon’s friends. She didn’t want to embarrass herself. Not in the name of a man who’d taken her death.
“Never thought I’d be sharing a drink with a Tribunal,�
� Talon remarked, clearly having noticed her hesitation.
Now she really didn’t want to embarrass herself.
Trained to be an executor of the Tribune and scared of a taste?
There was no reason to pretend she was still a member of the Tribune anymore. Any hopes of earning the forgiveness of her former masters had died with Yavortha. And would she even want it? Seeing how they’d left Elisha alone in a cell, terrified.
“We’re all part of the Circuit today.” She shrugged, closed her eyes, and threw back only as much of the green liquid as could fit through the mouth of the bottle. The taste was so bitter that she almost spit it out, but she clenched her jaw and tilted her head back. She coughed a few times after it was down, but she did it.
Nobody laughed. Talon grinned and nodded in Kitt’s direction. Sage offered the bottle to the kid to take, but as soon as his long, thin fingers wrapped around it, Larana cleared her throat. He froze.
“Can’t fly if you can’t see straight, Kitt,” Larana scolded.
Kitt sighed. “Or repair.” He handed the bottle to Talon and turned his attention back to Sage’s arm.
The bottle was almost empty by then, and Talon chugged down the rest. Sage didn’t blame him for it. His condition, his daughter, his friend—he needed it. Probably more than anyone else in the Circuit. Though a small part of her wished he’d left some more for her. Even after just a sip her head felt lighter and her body warmer. The Vergents sure did enjoy a nice, cold ship.
“I wish that was all I asked you all here for,” Larana said. “Tarsis’ passin’ was too soon. He was a Vergent and a Keeper and won’t be forgotten, but before he died, he told me somethin’ I almost didn’t believe.” She shot a distrustful glare in Sage’s direction. “Are you sure she should listen to this?” she whispered to Talon, as if Sage couldn’t hear. “Knowin’ her history?”
Talon looked at Sage for a long moment. “She can handle it,” he decided.
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