She took a moment to compose herself. She didn’t want to sound like she was in pain. “It’s me. Are you alone?”
Larana took half a minute and then responded: “I am now. What’s goin’ on out there?”
“We’ve run into a problem. I need you and everyone aboard the Monarch to leave immediately. Leave the mech, take Elisha, and go.”
“The hangar’s still openin’. There’s plenty of time for you to get here.”
“Captain, if you stay, you’ll all die,” Sage said gravely. “I can’t have that. I know it’s not your place, but you need to keep her safe.”
Larana paused, then asked, “Where’s Talon?”
“I have to go. We’ll find you when this is done.” Sage glanced down at Talon’s motionless body. Even dead, he was dashing. No need to pretty himself up like the Tribunal men back home. He was raw. Real.
“Tell Elisha…” Sage paused to gather herself. “Tell her, her father has to save the Circuit.”
Sage cut the transmission before she could hear a response. Just getting those last words out was a challenge that left her lungs struggling. She leaned against the console, directly beside Talon’s body, and stared into his glassy blue eyes. Crying was an odd sensation for her ever since her training. The slight burn under her eyes. She sort of liked it.
“Contact your people and your fleet, and tell them the issue here has been resolved,” she addressed Zaimur softly.
“You’ll never last with your wounds,” Zaimur bristled. He was sitting nearby, blithely rubbing his jaw and trying not to pay attention to Sage’s weapon. “Let me call for a medic.”
“Contact. The. Fleet.”
She was battered and bruised, but patience was a virtue instilled upon Sage by years of executor service. It was roughly two and a half weeks to Earth from their location, less with how fast the Ceresian fleet would need to burn in order to beat Benjar there once he realized what was happening.
Sage would last as long as she had to. She had a mission again, a renewed purpose. It was one she never wanted, but Talon Rayne was dead, and there was nothing she could do to change that. All she could do was ensure that he, a good man, didn’t die for nothing.
21
Chapter Twenty-One—Cassius
Cassius stared at a bluish-gray planet through the viewport in the command deck of the White Hand. Hints of brown showed here and there, and thin red lines where streams of magma cut across the arid landscape.
Plenty of people had looked upon the planet and wondered what it used to be like. Even Cassius once did. But presently, he saw Earth precisely for what it was—a dead, rotting world being sucked dry of what few resources it had left.
Earth was a shackle holding humanity back.
To Cassius, all anyone really could use from it was the element harbored in its core. And so, he was going to break it open like an egg and show the Circuit the truth: that humanity had truly evolved beyond the world that conceived them, and could look to the stars for new Earths to find, as the Ancients once dreamed of.
Humanity’s survival was no longer in question, and for Cassius a golden age neared, one of expansion and untold advancements in technology. All his species needed to do was look beyond their noses and see it was there for the taking.
Cassius could hardly believe the day had come. The closer the planet grew, the better he could see the battle already raging over Luna. With the mass of Tribune Cordo Yashan’s fleet having embarked to Ceresian space, Earth’s moon would fall quickly. Most of the anti-craft defenses there and on Earth had been around since the last war, and they wouldn’t hold up long against the number of ships Cassius had convinced Zaimur Morastus to bring.
Rail-gun fire lanced across space, from ship to ground and ground to ship. Smoldering hunks of wrecked vessels drifted all around. The Tribunal city on Luna, nestled into a network of deep craters, was ravaged. Black lines of scorched metal and rock lashed across the citadel at its center, as if the claws of a great beast had scraped across it.
Only the Luna Conduit Station remained completely intact, hovering above a fallen space elevator. Nobody but Cassius was bold enough to dare destroy the work of the Ancients.
He could distinguish the bulky outline of the Hound’s Paw floating over the conduit, as if claiming it as the Ceresians’ territory. Explosions burst here and there around it, from the few Tribunal fighters that remained. It looked like a celebration.
How fitting.
Directly outside Cassius’ viewport were five retrofitted Tribunal freighters. On the exterior, they were unassuming, dressed in a layer of extra ablative plating, but not much beyond that. On the inside, however, they were each being piloted by one of Cassius’ androids and holding gravitum bombs, each the same potency as the one that destroyed Kalliope. The sixth bomb was in the cargo bay of the White Hand, being monitored by Cassius’ damaged android.
Yet, even with all of that, as Cassius watched Earth and the surrounding battle grow ever nearer, he couldn’t help but feel like something was missing. He raised his hand to his right ear and tapped the comm-link fixed to the inside of his lobe.
ADIM, he thought, where are you? He hadn’t heard from him in weeks. As proud as he was that the android had finally made his own decision, he’d always wanted for them to arrive at Earth together. ADIM was going to ensure that everything went smoothly from his end, but all Cassius could think about was how there was a cold, empty space beside his chair, meant for a son.
The command console chirped that a transmission was coming through. Cassius patched through himself before shifting a holoscreen around in front of him.
Zaimur Morastus popped up, alone. No girls or guards in the background, only him, and he appeared more exhausted than ever before. Bloodshot eyes. A look like he stunk something foul. His usually styled blond hair clung to his sweating forehead, and his cheeks appeared gaunt.
Cassius wasn’t surprised. Attacking Earth was no simple endeavor. They might have been winning this first battle, but the Morastus leader had to know what was approaching. Somewhere in the dark expanse behind Cassius was the combined fleet of both Tribune Cordo Yashan and Benjar Vakari, intent on protecting the world they worshipped. Whether he had faith in Cassius’ plan or not, Zaimur didn’t have the experience of war to harden him.
“You sure took your time, Vale,” Zaimur said. Even his voice had lost much of its former gaiety.
“Ensuring the safe transport of our stolen weapon took longer than expected,” Cassius replied.
“How convenient, you show up after the battle starts. It doesn’t matter. Luna’s surface is taken, and it won’t be long before we secure its tunnels. They knew we were coming, but you were right, there wasn’t enough here to repel us.”
“Excellent. Shall I transport to Earth immediately, then, or would you like to see the weapon first?”
Zaimur was quiet for a few seconds. “Earth,” he said. “I saw the scans. Scouts tell me the Tribune is burning through fuel and will reach us within hours. There’s no time to waste. We’ve been bombing the turrets on the surface around our target for a day now, so you should be able to land cleanly. Supervise the delivery of the weapon to the Euro-Continent Mine before the Tribunal fleet arrives.”
Finally, willing to hand over control, Cassius thought. Either war has finally broken him, or something’s wrong.
“Zaimur, we need you focused for the meeting to come,” Cassius said. “Don’t let your—”
“I’m fine!” Zaimur bristled. “Now go make Earth our hostage. As soon as you’re done, report to me here.”
“Only once you assure me that Benjar Vakari is on your ship.”
“He’ll be here.”
“ADIM and I will deliver the weapon to Euro-Continent Mine 3 at once, then. Your men should expect to see an android with it.”
It was the largest mine on the planet, where they’d planned to threaten the Tribune and make a show of force if necessary. A detonation there would leave Earth an even more unstable
place, but Cassius had no intention of making idle threats. Unbeknownst to Zaimur, Cassius hadn’t stolen the gravitum bomb, he’d invented it. And he had six of them.
One for each of the deepest mines on the planet, piercing the planet’s mantle. His five freighters would hover high above the others, hiding in the clouds, and on Cassius’ command, the androids would drop straight into them with their bombs.
“I’m counting on you, Vale,” Zaimur said. He looked around before sighing and glaring straight at Cassius. Someone was with him. “We both know I’ll need you here to help convince Benjar we’re not bluffing when he arrives. Blowing the mine is a last resort.”
“Like I would miss a chance for a face-to-face with Benjar?” Cassius asked playfully. “Just ensure that the defenses are down and my passage is safe. ADIM is controlling an escort for me, but I don’t want to see what happens if this bomb meets a rocket.”
“It’s safe. Move fast.”
Zaimur ended the transmission. Cassius’ heart began to race like it used to when he was merely a soldier, not yet trained in the arts of the executor. It raced like it had when an infant Caleb showed up at his doorstep, the product of a dalliance with a whore on Lutetia.
Cassius hadn’t looked upon Earth with his own eyes since the day Caleb died, and now he passed over its moon and through a field of wreckage and ruin that was all his design.
He expected that the sight of Earth would’ve filled him with rage. Instead, it was difficult not to smile. His chance at retribution was so near he could taste it. There was some time before he would enter its muddy atmosphere, but he couldn’t even think about closing his eyes.
He took out the holorecorder holding Caleb’s final moments on Earth and placed it beside him.
“Here we are, my son,” he said. “At last.”
The Tribunal freighters controlled by his androids fell into a diamond formation around the White Hand. Only their scanners and piloting abilities could guide him safely through the debris.
Cassius wasn’t used to piloting manually through a field of slag that may as well have been countless bombs. The White Hand’s plasmatic shield was far more apt at deflecting energy-based attacks. With a weapon in his cargo bay as volatile as Earth, he didn’t want to reduce the Ceresian fleet to dust before Benjar even arrived. The freighters had been re-armored like floating tanks precisely for the purpose of withstanding physical collisions and keeping them all safe.
It took some time to reach Earth’s upper atmosphere from there, but Cassius couldn’t peel his gaze away the entire way. His androids’ formation had worked to perfection, deflecting wreckage both current and ancient, orbiting Earth since the days it was settled centuries before.
“Creator.” The androids spoke into his ear. “We have successfully penetrated the atmosphere of planet Earth.”
Cassius’ seat rattled, and with it, his heart thumped faster. He couldn’t believe what he was feeling. Here he was, entering the atmosphere of Earth, as shrouded by clouds and storms as Titan’s atmosphere.
“Proceed to your assigned locations,” Cassius strained to say. “Remember, if you’re asked, you are all ADIM.”
“Yes, Creator.”
Cassius could barely see the blur of the freighters branching off onto their own courses. His bones vibrated from entry, but that didn’t stop him from grabbing his holorecorder. He set it to play and paused it once Caleb’s face was fully formed in light.
“Look, Caleb,” he said. “I finally made it.”
The White Hand pierced a layer of dark clouds, and the surface of Earth was revealed. The gray, desolate landscape extended for miles beneath him. There wasn’t a color to be found except for a stream of magma glowing in the distance, oozing out of a massive rift in the ground.
Cassius’ hands went numb. He hadn’t looked upon the true face of humanity’s homeworld since he was named a Tribune and had to take his vows while standing upon its surface. It looked no different now. No more healed by the Spirit or the efforts Caleb had spearheaded.
This was a planet ready to die.
The White Hand rocked to the side, too abruptly to still be from re-entry. Cassius saw the reflection of an explosion off the ship’s portside. Then another at the bow.
So much for clearing the defenses.
Cassius snapped out of his trance, threw on the ship’s scramblers, and set the plasmatic shields to full power. Then he began weaving his way through the clouds, evading missile fire emerging from turrets hidden throughout the arid plains.
According to navigation, the Euro-Continent Mine was located a few dozen kilometers beyond the rift he was heading towards. It was a familiar place to Cassius. The mine he’d sent ADIM to study and the molten rift had been the location where Caleb’s laboratory once stood.
No sign of that installation remained. It was as if the very lake from which Caleb had pulled the plant sitting at the heart of the Tribune spewed magma.
Cassius evaded a spray of missile shrapnel as the White Hand darted over the rift. Knowing Caleb’s last message had been recorded straight below had his eyes welling up, his store of tears finally returning from all those many years of rewatching Caleb’s transmission. He glanced at the hologram of his son, resolute in why he was doing what he was about to do.
The Ancients couldn’t. The Tribunes’ faith couldn’t. Caleb couldn’t.
Only I can save Earth by driving our kind to finally seek out a new one. By finishing the job the Ancients started long ago.
A flock of clunky Ceresian bombers raced in front of his view, taking the aim of anti-air artillery off him as they pummeled the parched ground with explosives. The stilts of the plasmatic drill suspended over the Euro-Continent Mine glinted on the horizon. Bodies of fallen Tribunal combat mechs littered the ground around a hole that was roughly three hundred feet in diameter and black as space in its center. An array of Ceresian vessels were arranged around it, ground troops dispersed between. Dust swirled about it all, kicked up from the light fighting, providing Cassius with an easy approach.
He banked the White Hand around the drill slowly so that he could cleanly position the cargo-bay ramp a short distance from the pit. There was no reason to risk anything happening to the bomb. He knew from experience that it was impossible to predict when Earth would split or tremor.
The landing gear touched down gently. Cassius wasted no time undoing his restraints and heading out of the command deck. His legs were slightly wobbly from nerves, a sensation he never thought he’d feel again.
He felt alive.
Plucking the bulbous helmet of his enviro-suit off a shelf beside the entrance to the cargo bay, he placed it over his head. He’d been wearing the suit the entire journey—just in case. Ready from the start.
The door opened with a whoosh, and inside, even the red glow of his damaged android’s eyes was drowned out by oppressive gravitum blue. The bomb looked identical to the one from Kalliope, and Cassius was close enough to feel his appendages tingle. There was so much raw energy locked in the weapon, he was amazed he and ADIM had ever found a way to control it.
Cassius placed his hand on the android’s shoulder and said, “My creation, it’s time. On my mark, deliver the bomb as deep into the Earth as the mine goes.”
“Yes, Creator,” it said, immediately starting to prep the bomb for transportation. The delivery was a one-way trip, yet it didn’t question the order at all. No concern over whether or not Cassius would be safe without it around. No worrying about the future. ADIM truly had surpassed these things. So much so, Cassius couldn’t even see their potential in this infant state.
But this was the way. There was no saying what obstructions lay inside the mine. Without all six bombs going off as deep into the planet’s mantle as possible, the cumulative blast wouldn’t have the effect Cassius intended. He’d built his androids sturdy enough to make the plunge.
“Is this it?” A Morastus agent addressed the android after the ship’s exit ramp opened. Others with
her stayed back, looks of terror plastered upon their faces. Seeing such power had that effect on people.
Cassius stepped back into the shadow, completely out of sight. The agent wore a space-worthy suit keeping her safe from Earth’s poisonous air and the exposed gravitum. Cassius couldn’t decide which was more toxic.
“Yes,” the android replied. It began to slide the bomb out on a hover tray.
“Lord Morastus said to expect a bot. Didn’t expect it to be half beat to shit.” The woman stepped into the cargo bay and circled around the pulsing blue bomb. Cassius couldn’t see her expression from where he was hiding, but he could imagine.
“So this is it?” she asked. “The weapon that blew Kalliope?”
“A comparable model, yes,” the android replied as it moved.
“Well, get it out fast, then. How the hell did I get posted here?”
She hurried out of the cargo bay, and the android followed behind as quickly as it could. Due to ADIM’s assault, this one remained slower than the others. And it didn’t look back as Cassius signaled the cargo bay to reseal. It didn’t turn and show him its rotating red eyes as it asked a question only Cassius could answer.
How does this work? Why is this? Who is that? All those innocent, curious questions so much like what young Caleb used to ask whenever Cassius was actually around. Before he grew up and knew more than Cassius ever could.
Where are you, ADIM? Cassius thought.
He wanted his creation, his son, at his side for this. But it was only while watching a bad imitation of ADIM walk to its doom without a thought in its head that Cassius realized how much.
“Cr… a… tor.” A muddled voice spoke suddenly, as if answering his thoughts. Cassius wheeled around, searching for its origin before he realized that it wasn’t coming from the White Hand or the comm-link connected to his six inferior androids. It was coming from ADIM’s, in his right ear.
“ADIM, is that you?” Cassius asked.
“I… at… Mar…”
Cassius immediately knew what was wrong. Earth’s thick, stormy atmosphere was impeding their ability to communicate clearly. “I can’t hear you, ADIM. I’m here. I’m on Earth.”
The Circuit: The Complete Saga Page 69