The Circuit: The Complete Saga

by Bruno, Rhett C.

  Handle what?

  “So, you’re sure Tarsis wasn’t just lyin’ to get me to stay?” Larana asked Talon. “Cassius Vale really is alive?”

  Every member of the Vergent crew gasped. Kitt tripped up on a wire and sent a shock up Sage’s neck.

  “He was on the ship I shot at before you grabbed us,” Talon answered evenly. “Scanners said he escaped despite the damage, so yes, Cassius Vale is still alive.”

  Sage sat up. Why would he shoot him? As far as she knew, that was never part of the plan. She worried that he was dead, but then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the blinking light of the holorecorder he’d given to her sitting snugly inside a compartment of her artificial forearm that remained intact. It meant someone was trying to contact her, and only Cassius had the twin device capable of doing so.

  Larana shook her head. “I watched him die on Ceres. Die along with answers to where the solar-ark he stole is.”

  “An event he fabricated,” Talon said. His hands, laid flat on the table, were beginning to tremble in rage. “Just like this war, and just like Kalliope.” He glanced again over at Sage, who remained quiet. “I believe he was the true reason that Julius died and my daughter almost joined him. I’m saying we’ve all been fooled from the very start. From the first Tribunal freighter, which he apparently stole.”

  Kalliope? Sage was too busy thinking about how he came to such a definitive conclusion that she forgot to voice her opposition.

  “And you all kept this a secret?” Larana questioned, her pale cheeks pink with anger. “Why?”

  “You know why.” Talon gestured toward the corridor leading to the living quarters where Elisha was sleeping.

  “You’re sure about this?”

  “More sure then I’ve ever been of anything in my life. You saw Kalliope. The Tribune may hate us, but they’ve always tried to preserve all inhabitable areas at all costs. They’ll rupture seals and hangars, but remove a settled asteroid from the Circuit?”

  “You don’t know Benjar Vakari,” Sage chimed in.

  “I know, but even he decided to invade Eureka instead of blowing it to pieces with the entire Lakura army inside. Kalliope has Cassius written all over it, only nobody cared because we were so desperate for war. He destroyed Lutetia more than two decades ago, and now he’s perfected the art.”

  “How’d he do that?” Kitt interrupted. He touched two wires in Sage’s arm together, and a few of her artificial fingers wiggled. There was a subtle, all too familiar pinch in the nerve endings on her shoulder.

  “He did it by feigning treaty talks to get inside and overtax Lutetia’s android factory’s reactor core,” Sage said. The fact that Talon’s argument made sense had her palms sweating. “But why now send ADIM after a weapon you claim he already has?”

  “So that Zaimur, or anybody else, doesn’t question why he has it,” Talon said. “I think he was really there to ensure we got Elisha because she believes ADIM saved her on Kalliope, a fact that might make people think he’s a hero. But ADIM doesn’t help people. He kills them. This is the same android that singlehandedly slaughtered the entire crew of a solar-ark around the same time. That just broke into the Ascendant’s brig with ease. Do you really think that he would’ve failed at saving Kalliope if he really had a chance to?”

  Sage grunted in disbelief. “It’s all a stretch, Talon.”

  “Is it? Cassius returns and all of a sudden the entire Circuit is coming undone. I wasn’t about to give him the chance to get his hands on Elisha and find out.” He leaned on his elbows on the table. “Whatever he plans on doing, there is no doubt in my mind that he started this war for his own reasons.”

  Started this war. Would he go that far to get his revenge?

  Sage found it hard to believe that the Cassius she once knew would do that. The man who’d stood as a hero to the Tribune, helped create the first person Sage ever loved, and gave her younger self a figure to serve as “father.”

  But she’d seen firsthand the type of man he’d become. Shackles. That was what he’d called everything in the Circuit that wasn’t a part of his design. He’d built the abomination ADIM, spat in the face of the Keepers and the Circuit and Titan. He’d allowed thousands to die there just to escape capture. The very people his family had been charged with protecting since the moon was settled.

  “Sage… you have to see it,” Talon said, leaning closer. “He murdered my oldest friend. He manipulated the Tribune and now my people. He manipulated you. He—”

  “I see it!” Sage snapped. This time her entire artificial arm moved, slamming against the viewport’s sill and leaving a dent. Kitt was thrown backwards, his nimble Vergent body allowing him to catch himself on a ledge. Sage winced in pain and grasped at her bullet wound.

  “By the Spirit, I see it,” she groaned. “But whatever he’s planning, I promise you it’s to harm the Tribune. Why complain? He’s on your side now.”

  “Same as he was on the Tribune’s all those years ago?” Talon asked. “Cassius Vale has always done whatever he wants. Every Ceresian knows that. And now he has the ear of the most powerful Ceresian there is, an entire fleet following his desires, and an android servant that can disguise itself as any man in existence. We’ve seen it, for the Ancients’ sake!”

  That was a notion Sage couldn’t stomach. She didn’t even want to consider it.

  “Even if what you say is true, what do you plan on doing about it?” she said. “If we’d gone with him, I could’ve gotten him alone. Now we have no idea where he is.”

  “I don’t know.” Talon released a mouthful of air and slumped back.

  “I say we head back to the Verge, beyond the war,” Kitt said.

  “I’ve thought about it,” Larana admitted. “We can only hope Talon knocked out his life support and he suffocated.”

  “He didn’t,” Sage said matter-of-factly. She brushed Kitt aside, opened the compartment in her arm, and pulled out the holorecorder. She dropped it on the table.

  The Vergents watched in petrified silence as the device rolled across the surface until Talon stopped it with one hand.

  “What is it?” Tarsis asked.

  “It belonged to his son,” Sage said, taking note of how Talon’s face momentarily scrunched at the mention of Caleb. “An encrypted recorder that can also be used to exchange messages over long distances or short-range transmit directly. See that light blinking? It means he attempted to contact me.”

  Larana sprang to her feet and stuck out an accusatory finger. “What did you tell him?”

  Sage stayed calm. “Nothing. I have no interest in listening to what he has to say through this. If I ever speak to him again, it’ll be face-to-face. I won’t let him keep lying. All I know for sure is that he’s alive.”

  Larana didn’t back down. “Can he track us with that?”

  Probably, Sage thought, frowning. It was built by Cassius Vale. “I’m not sure.” She picked up the device. Before she could think twice, she pried her uncontrollable artificial fingers open and placed it on her palm. With the three she could control, she crushed it until its lights went dark and it was as flat as a disc. Then she dropped it and returned to her seat.

  “It’s better if he doesn’t know whether we’re alive or dead for now,” Sage said.

  “I agree with that,” Talon said. “I just don’t understand what he’s after.”

  “Vengeance. He wants to destroy the Tribune completely. Break its faith. It’s that simple. He blames them for letting his son die, all because of a plant that grew on Earth. When they wouldn’t return what he believed was his son’s work, Benjar tried to have him assassinated. But before the final blow, the other Tribunes decided to show him mercy for all that he’d done for them. Now he’ll stop at nothing to show them their mistake.”

  “No offense, Sage, but there isn’t a Ceresian in existence who hasn’t wished they’d wake up one day and the Tribune would be gone. But not like this. Zaimur’s made a deal with a devil, and my peopl
e are the pawns.”

  “Now us too,” Larana added.

  Talon nodded. “Our colonies are falling one by one, and whatever he’s planning, I fear none of us will survive it. I didn’t go through all of this to save Elisha just to watch her world burn.”

  Sage wanted to tell him that he had no other choice. She wanted to tell him that when it came to Cassius, there was nothing he wasn’t prepared for.

  “So what are you going to do?” she asked when she could think of nothing else.

  “This isn’t my ship. So whether or not Larana wants to take us there, I’m going to find Zaimur and try to get him to see the truth. That’s all I can do.”

  “And if he doesn’t listen?” Larana asked.

  “I haven’t gotten that far yet. I guess then I’ll have to try to help Sage earn that face-to-face.”

  Sage remained silent.

  Larana rubbed her chin and stared out into space through a viewport. “Tarsis trusted you,” she said finally. “I knew him most of my life, even though he lied. I‘ll trust you further, Insider. If the Morastus prince can help stop the man who took out an ark, then we go to him. Kitt, set a course.”

  “Yes, Cap’n,” Kitt replied. He hopped to his feet and set off for the command deck without even bothering to clean up his tools.

  Sage still wasn’t sure if everything Talon had determined was one hundred percent true, but there was one thing she did know—escaping the influence of Cassius was impossible for her. For better or worse, their lives were bound. There was still a shred of humanity in him. The same one that convinced him to help her rescue Elisha even if he wanted to attack the Ascendant for his own desires as well. Only she could bring it out of him, and somehow, she knew she was destined to stand before him again.

  It wasn’t a mission. It was fate. And it would be up to him whether she did so with a gun in her hand or not.

  17

  Chapter Seventeen—Cassius

  Cassius imagined he got more sleep in the days it took to reach Ennomos than in all the years that had passed since Caleb died. In what seemed like no time, the asteroid hovered in the White Hand’s flight path.

  He hadn’t heard from either ADIM or Sage yet, but knew better than to dwell on it. ADIM would contact him as soon as he could. He always did.

  If Sage, on the other hand, had already reached Ceres Prime, then she’d be out of range for real-time communication between their holorecorders. He’d sent a few additional messages throughout his voyage and continued to receive nothing back.

  The thought that maybe it, and her, was floating through the vacuum briefly entered his mind. He didn’t allow it to stick. That wasn’t a fitting end for Sage Volus, and if it were the case, he had little doubt she would resolve to contact him rather than suffocate alone. If the Tribune had her or her body, then there was no question they would’ve discovered the device, found those messages, and replied merely to taunt him.

  She’s alive, he told himself. Whatever the reason for her lack of contact, he knew that she was alive.

  Cassius assumed the White Hand’s controls from autopilot and guided it toward the narrow channel leading into his facility’s hangar. He was still rusty at having to operate everything manually. The bottom of his ship scraped across a portion of the rock, but not hard enough to leave a scratch more noticeable than the ones already there from battle.

  The hangar’s outer seal opened upon reading the White Hand’s signal, and Cassius flew it in slowly. He maneuvered it over the docked solar-ark and to the other end of the lofty space, right beside the line of five stolen Tribunal freighters.

  The androids’ red eye-lenses snapped toward his position, each of them loading a gravitum bomb into one of the freighters. Even with the hangar lights on, the weapons glowed so bright Cassius had to shield his eyes. If he took one step beyond the protected hull of his ship without wearing an enviro-suit, he’d risk contracting the blue death. Then he’d have something in common with that grimy Ceresian Sage was so fond of.

  Switching off the White Hand’s engines, Cassius made his way to the cargo bay. He dressed in a full enviro-suit and helmet, checking every seal twice before lowering the ship’s ramp. The five androids greeted him immediately. Beyond them he could see the sixth, the one that ADIM had impaired, limping out of the solar-ark.

  “The White Hand is severely damaged, Creator,” the androids addressed him in perfect unison. “Does the Creator require medical assistance?”

  “I’m fine,” Cassius said. “Patch her up as best you can and repair the power lines. There is no time to waste.”

  “Her?” the androids questioned.

  “The White Hand. I need it up and running as quickly as possible. When the work is completed, load the last bomb into the cargo bay.”

  “Yes, Creator.”

  The androids hurried to work, no questions, no better ideas. Every day ADIM became more and more superior to them and the value of living more apparent. Uploading them with every shred of data on the universe was one thing, but there was no substitute for life experience.

  Cassius watched them go by, and then took a moment to survey the condition of his ship beyond just what internal scanners had told him. It looked as though it’d been through a real war. Portions of its outer hull were either missing completely or peeling away. Its pearly coat was sullied, and where there weren’t fist-size bullet holes from flak cannons, there were streaks of scorch marks.

  “Only one more battle, old girl,” he said as he patted the hull. The androids hooked power and fuel lines to it, and soon after, the interior lights began to flicker on. Cassius quickly made his way back to the command deck.

  “Gaia, open transmission with the Hound’s Paw,” he said. His words were received only by silence. He’d forgotten for a moment about ADIM’s upgrades, and it didn’t take him long to figure out what the issue was. When they were severed, Gaia’s program was corrupted, split between the ship and ADIM’s memory core. Useless.

  So you’ve left me truly alone, haven’t you, ADIM? Cassius thought. Without anywhere near the time to reconstruct her coding, he was back to running the ship manually, just like when he’d first received it after the Earth Reclaimer War.

  He walked over to the communications console. It took him a few extra minutes to reacquaint himself with the controls, but eventually he was able to open comms with the Hound’s Paw. Zaimur Morastus spoke before Cassius could.

  “So now he decides to answer me,” he said, his face popping up on the holoscreen. His cheeks were red with anger, and his usually prim blond hair was a mess. “I figured you died over Fortuna. What a relief that would’ve been after having me delay the fleet with no real excuse!”

  “Forgive me,” Cassius said. “The attack left me unable to respond until now, but—”

  “Attack?” Zaimur scoffed. “Tribune Vakari has already set off from Fortuna and is bound for Pallus. He’ll be there in a few days. Cordo Yashan is due to provide reinforcements shortly after to maintain order before they turn all their attention to Ceres. This plan is failing!”

  “Remember who you’re talking to, boy!” Cassius growled. The shock on Zaimur’s expression was plain. Cassius took a calming breath and continued, “Pallus would be taken already if it wasn’t for me. The Ascendant is hampered, and even if Benjar won’t let that show, these extra days have given us the advantage.”

  “I fail to see any advantage,” Zaimur grumbled. “Pallus itself won’t last a week with what little defenses I’ve left there, thanks to you.”

  “The Tribune thinks you’re conserving all your resources for the defense of Ceres. We stick to the plan. As they’re closing in on Pallus, you dispatch nearly your entire fleet on a hard burn for Earth.”

  “Right. And allow our second largest settlement to be torn apart. I’ve put plenty of faith into this, Vale. It had better work.”

  Cassius almost wanted to laugh in Zaimur’s face for being so foolish, but knew he needed to stay on his good side
for only a short while longer, sick as it made him feel. “Or what?” he asked. “If this fails, then we’ll both be dead.”

  “Well, I plan on doing a whole lot more living. So where’s the weapon?”

  “ADIM—” Cassius paused. It was barely for a second, so he doubted Zaimur would notice, but he knew he had to get the android out of his thoughts and stay focused. “ADIM is examining it now.”

  Zaimur’s eyes narrowed. “Examining it where? I thought we had an agreement that you’d deliver it to my ship before we set off for Earth.”

  “That was before my ship was nearly destroyed during our escape. The White Hand is fast. I’ll be able to catch up after you’re already on your way.”

  “After? You expect me to do all of this without any proof you even have it?”

  He’s lucky I’m almost through with him. He bit back the harsh words festering in his throat, and then said, “How many times must I remind you we’re on the same side? I’ll transmit rough schematics and imagery as soon as we’re through loading it onto my ship. Is that acceptable to you?”

  Zaimur leaned back in his chair and clenched his jaw. Magda laid her snout across his lap. “Fine.”

  “Once you’re beyond the Tribune’s ability to intercept, you must broadcast our intentions, whether I’m there yet or not. Say that if the Tribune even attempts to approach Ceres, we’ll blow the gravitum mines.”

  “I’d rather not plug the mines if I don’t have to, Vale. The element will help us rebuild.”

  “You don’t need it.”

  He sighed. “You’re sure the Tribune will fall for this?”

  ”Without question. To them the mines are more than just a resource. They’re sacred. Physical conduits of the Earth Spirit’s essence. They’ll come rushing back, and there, over the remnants of our once lush homeworld, you’ll have your victory.”

  Zaimur smirked, displaying the rebellious spark Cassius had seen in him initially. They very spark he’d preyed on.

  “Okay, Cassius Vale,” he said. “Let’s make the Tribune kneel. Many Ceresians lives were lost to get us this opportunity.”