The Anathema

by Rawlins, Zachary

  Anastasia crossed her arms and planted her feet, not worrying for the moment about the velvet in her skirt, no doubt damaged beyond repair by the soot.

  “You flooded my island. You destroyed my house and you ruined my dinner. You made my sisters cry, and you failed your own sister, you pitiable thing. You had better show yourself and get it over with. I know you are out there. Renton is telling me so.”

  “I am not hiding,” Therese said calmly, walking out into the open, dressed for a day in the office in grey slacks and a white blouse, her hair back in a neat bun. “I was simply waiting to see which of your servants you planned to hide behind.”

  “None of them. Not for you, dear,” Anastasia, said, walking toward her. “For you, I’m making an exception. Back when you used to work for the Hegemony, you would have dreamed of having this opportunity. Congratulations are in order. You are about to find out what my protocol can do.”

  Therese’s smile was sickly, even in the dark.

  “Your mistake, Anastasia. The Outer Dark has been kind to me,” she gloated. “I have heard the rumors of you, the anomaly in the Martynova clan, and your mysterious deviant protocol. Whatever your secret, you are no match for what I have become.”

  “Therese,” Anastasia said, her voice suddenly soft. “Tell me you didn’t plan it this way. Tell me this all went horrible awry, that you did not deliberately let them do that to your sister.”

  Therese froze, and her expression became muddied, uncertain.

  “Why? What does it matter? Because you were ‘friends’ with her? Please. You were trying to play Emily.”

  “Of course,” Anastasia acknowledged. “Honestly, I was getting tired of acting the lonely and secretly self-conscious heiress. But that isn’t that point. She is your sister,” Anastasia added, glaring. “That is a responsibility that I take seriously.”

  “You have no idea,” Therese barked. “Don’t give me that crap, rich girl. You’ve never had to do anything for your sisters. You have no idea what it was like with Emily. I did everything I could to protect her.”

  “You gave her to the Outer Dark, and they made her a walking corpse, a Drown. Don’t bother with the good sister act. We are way past that now. Tell me,” Anastasia said softly, taking one deliberate step toward her, then another, “did they put you in that pool, first? Or did you let them do that to her? She was a really good cook, too. I won’t forgive you for it, whatever your reasons or rationale.”

  “I am not a Drown,” Therese hissed, the air around both of her hands smoking and steaming. “They have made me so much more than that. You cannot imagine, Martynova, the scale and the sheer power of the Outer Dark.”

  “Then give me a demonstration,” Anastasia invited. “I have a a bit of a surprise planned for you, too. Shall we see whose is better?”

  25.

  “Mr. Windsor?”

  “No need to be so formal, Katya. Please call me Gerald, both of you. We aren’t in class, and you’ve earned the right.”

  “Alright, whatever,” Katya said, tossing her hair. “Are we safe with you?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Don’t play dumb,” Katya said, sighing. “Your protocol, teach. Can you do anything notable? It’s my job to keep this kid,” she said, jerking her thumb at Alex, “safe. So I’d like to know if you are going to be any help. Because, you know, I could have found the infirmary on my own.”

  Mr. Windsor laughed pleasantly, ignoring Katya’s contemptuous expression.

  “Not to worry, Katya, I’m not going to be entirely useless to you. I do have abilities of my own, you realize. However, I don’t think you need to exercise such vigilance, not while we are on campus, anyway. It may not look like it, but we have things well in hand, here.”

  “Really?” Alex cut in. “Because, no offense, but it doesn’t really look that way.”

  “Of course not, Alex,” Mr. Windsor said cheerfully, glancing back at him. “The Director plays his cards close to his vest. Since the attack started, we haven’t lost anyone on the campus. Things in Central proper may have gone poorly,” he said, a shadow briefly crossing his face, “but, for the moment, here, we are still in control.”

  They walked along silently, across a sidewalk that was mercifully free of the bodies that had littered the road to the Academy. Alex could see now that Mr. Windsor was right – there was superficial damage to a number of buildings, and there were scattered signs of battle, but he saw no evidence of the chaos and savagery that seemed to be consuming much of the surrounding area. As they walked along the path, the streetlights in front of them flickered to life, and then shut off again after they passed underneath them, a mobile island of yellow light that led them across the silent campus. It had been such a long day that Alex barely even noticed, and even when he did, he didn’t have the energy to question it. Then, abruptly, he came up with another, much more urgent query.

  “Mr. Windsor?” Alex asked. “Did you know where Eerie is? If she is okay?”

  “I know where she was, which was on campus,” he said carefully, obviously considering his words. “She came back yesterday. I haven’t personally seen her since the attacks started, but if she’s still here, she’s fine.”

  “Why was she here?” Alex asked, stepping across a section of chaotic sidewalk, buckled by some sort of upheaval. “I thought she was supposed to be coding down in Central.”

  “She was,” Mr. Windsor said curtly. “Circumstances changed. If you want to know more about it, you’ll have to ask her. She’s entitled to her privacy.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Alex demanded, balling his fists at his sides. “Don’t fuck around with me. Is she okay?”

  “In all seriousness, it’s none of your business. And watch your language, Alex.”

  “He’s been like that all day,” Katya said sympathetically. “He lost Girl A so now he’s going to mad dog everybody to try and prove that he’s really serious about Girl B. It’s really tiresome.”

  He thought about arguing, and then told himself he didn’t have the energy. He told himself that he was too worried about Eerie, and maybe part of that was even true. But he wasn’t completely sure she was wrong. Katya didn’t blame him for what had happened to Emily, but she might be the only one who felt that way right now. He dreaded the larger, public reaction once the events of the break became common knowledge. He might even doubt it himself. Was that really why it was so important to him that he find Eerie? Because of the way it would look to other people? He hoped not. Nevertheless, he couldn’t say that he was certain.

  “Is that so? Well, I’m certain that everything will eventually be resolved to his satisfaction,” Mr. Windsor said, as they rounded the main lecture hall and their goal came into view. “Fortunately, the Director didn’t send me to answer questions. My job is to make sure that you find your way into the infirmary.”

  Alex didn’t wonder why they would need the help. There was a person standing in front of the infirmary, amongst the wreckage, and everything about his body language said he planned on trying to stop them. Alex couldn’t begin to imagine what had happened in front of the infirmary, but gouges were torn in the concrete and the facade of the building had collapsed. A water main had been breached, and the area was scattered with puddles and sinkholes. In the distance, a downed electrical line sparkled and danced, and a fire alarm wailed on endlessly.

  There was no need for Alex to ask for an introduction. After all, Alex knew him by name, and he remembered that same man preventing him from visiting Rebecca in the hospital. Suddenly, he had a very good idea why.

  “That sounds like a hard job,” Alistair said cheerfully, walking casually amidst the water and wreckage. “Your boss is shafting you. You should complain.”

  “I’m afraid not,” Mr. Windsor said politely, clearing his throat as he moved to stand between Alistair and Alex and Katya. “The Director isn’t the type to listen to that sort of nonsense.”

  “Then maybe you should find yourself
a new boss,” Alistair suggested helpfully.

  “Again, I will have to disappoint you. Though not as much, I hope, as you have disappointed me.”

  “Don’t take it personally, Gerald,” Alistair said softly, almost apologetically. “Do yourself a favor and back down. Everyone knows you used up the last of your power binding Mitsuru all those years ago. That’s why you retired to teach. How are you going to stop me without a protocol?”

  “It was never my job to stop you,” Mr. Windsor said dryly. “All I was instructed to do was to distract you until Miss Aoki could arrive.”

  “Oh, please,” Alistair laughed. “You don’t actually expect me to… oh, no. Oh, dear. Hello, Mitzi.”

  Alistair probably meant to turn around. Alex guessed that was what he intended to do, before Mitsuru came out of the shadows behind him, an enormous knife held in a reversed grip, edge out, slashing at his unprotected side. Alistair sighed and stepped casually out of the way. Alex was confused for a moment, and then he remembered with a terrible, sinking feeling that Alistair was a powerful telepath, capable of reading Mitsuru’s intentions before she moved. Unless she was much faster than Alistair was, she would be incapable of hitting him.

  “Mitzi,” he said, moving his head to the side of an ice-pick style stab. “I was hoping we would have an opportunity to talk. Naturally, I thought that you would join us, once you saw how much of what we’re trying to do makes sense. Can we talk this over?”

  “Don’t call me that name,” Mitsuru hissed, her hair wild and disheveled, her face contorted with rage. She kicked at his midsection, and then followed up with her blade, moving forward the whole time, striking and hunting for openings. “Never call me that again.”

  “Mitsuru,” Alistair said urgently, stepping backwards so the knife passed just centimeters from his chest. “Mitzi, calm down. No one was actually trying to kill you. That was for show. They were supposed to take care of Alice and Xia, not you.”

  Mitsuru threw a leg kick, but without any real force behind it, and in return caught a right hand from Alistair to the forehead that she didn’t manage to duck. She brought up her left knee into the meat of his thigh, but he slapped it aside. Mitsuru had to scramble to parry a knee of his own that he threw on the opposite side. Stepping past it, moving inside, she drove the point of her knife forward with both hands, aiming for his solar plexus, but he drifted, frustratingly out of reach of the trembling point of her blade. Mitsuru stepped back and gasped for air.

  “Get ready, now,” Gerald said, in a low voice, the air around him crawling with faint white sparks, here and then gone again, so fast that Alex couldn’t decide for sure if they were really there. “When I say go, you two run inside, and don’t stop until you get to the third floor, middle staircase. Rebecca’s in the third room from the stairwell.”

  Mitsuru and Alistair continued to fight, Alistair dodging and counterstriking, keeping up his constant patter, while Mitsuru’s strikes grew increasingly wild and desperate. She threw a kick at his head and he caught her leg in mid-strike, then he sent her sprawling backwards, very nearly flipping her over. If he had followed her down, Alex knew from instincts pounded into him in the Program, it probably would have ended there. Then again, he also knew that if Mitsuru were actually going one-hundred percent, Alistair never would have been able to toss her so easily.

  Alistair, apparently, did not know that. Apparently, he also didn’t see the angry black man that had quietly emerged from the building behind him, tattoos pulsing with violet light.

  “Look, Mitzi, this is completely unnecessary…”

  Alex couldn’t figure out how Alistair could miss the violet pulse that presaged Michael’s attack. A bolt of purplish light tore through the air to connect with Alistair’s back, and his face contorted in agony when it made contact, so that made everything seem worth it.

  For a moment.

  Then Alistair laughed cheerfully from a few feet away, while a light fixture disintegrated at the spot where Michael had aimed his protocol. No one said anything, Alistair’s grin daring them to try.

  “Can we please stop this nonsense? None of you are capable of stopping me, and I think we all know that. Now, if we could talk this thing out, I think you would all see that a transition in power would be to your benefit...”

  Mitsuru grabbed him by the hair, jerking his head back so that she could slit his exposed throat. She drew her knife across his jugular, so fast that Alex never even saw any blood.

  It made no difference. There was no body to hit the ground in front of her. To Mitsuru’s credit, she realized what had happened, and tried to move to avoid what she knew must be coming, but it was impossible. Alistair appeared behind her, his arms wrapping around her throat before she had the time to react. He pulled the choke tight, ignoring her frantic kicks and elbows, cutting off the flow of blood to the brain. Michael ran to help her, but it was over in seconds. Alistair set her neatly on the ground.

  “You bastard,” Michael said, spearing Alistair with his shoulder, driving forward from his thighs and his back, his arms out wide. Alistair was lifted completely off his feet, and Michael caught him before he could hit the ground, grabbing him by the shoulder and slamming him, neck first, into the sidewalk.

  Despite Alex’s screamed warnings, Michael didn’t seem to realize that it was Gerald Windsor he was attacking until after he drove him into the concrete, breaking his shoulder with a sickening certainty.

  “Oh, no!” Michael cried out in horror. “Gerald! I’m so sorry...”

  He didn’t have long to be sorry. Alistair used a chunk of concrete to the skull to make certain of that.

  “What is it that you people have against speech? It’s the foundation of civilization, you know,” Alistair said, breathing hard and rubbing his hands together, “All of this violence is completely unnecessary. Oh, wait. Except for Katya. I’m afraid you are far too dangerous to let live, and not nearly useful enough to recruit. Terribly sorry...”

  Alex had no idea what Alistair planned to do to Katya, who was crouched beside Mr. Windsor, bandaging his head with more tenderness than he had seen Katya show anyone. He stepped firmly in Alistair’s path, water from the puddle he stood in seeping through his sneakers, determined not to find out.

  “I get it now,” Alex said, focusing all his anger, all his frustration, on the man in front of him. “I understand why you wouldn’t let me see Rebecca. It’s the catalyst effect, right? My protocol would have enhanced her powers, and she could wake herself up.”

  “Maybe,” Alistair said, amused. “I’m afraid that’s purely rhetorical at this point.”

  “’Fraid not,” Alex said, walking toward Alistair. “I’m going in there, and I’m going to wake Rebecca up. Care to try and stop me?”

  “Alex!” Katya yelled from somewhere behind him. “Have you gone insane? Let me handle this.”

  “She’s right, you know,” Alistair said conversationally, walking toward Alex as casually as if he intended to shake his hand. “Did you see what I did to your teachers? And I wasn’t even trying hard. Katya Zharova has some real training, at least. She might last all of a few seconds against me. You, Alex? Well, I don’t want to embarrass you...”

  “Go ahead and try,” Alex encourage, opening the Black Door and attempting to freeze Alistair’s horrible brain.

  “Nice try,” Alistair said, from the top of a nearby rock pile. “But I’m not impressed with your protocol. You do realize that you’ll never hit me, right? I can always make you think I’m somewhere else. That’s how telepathy works.”

  Alex aimed for his head again, breaching the Ether and letting in the terrible cold. Alistair appeared to his side, and before he could react, he slammed one knee into Alex’s chest, dropping him instantly into the water at their feet. It was all he could do to roll away as if he was on fire, putting several feet of distance between them, much to Alistair’s amusement.

  “Congratulations, Alex,” Alistair laughed. “That was definitely the most
ridiculous way anyone has tried to get away from me. Are we done here?”

  “Not quite,” Alex said, dragging himself to his feet, one arm across his chest.

  “Give me a break,” Alistair said, snarling and taking a step forward. “This is...”

  Alistair never actually gave his opinion. Because he slipped on the ice beneath him and went crashing down, landing on his elbows and backside, and then yelling out in pain and surprise. Alex had realized quickly that he wasn’t going to be able to hit Alistair. So, all he could do, he reasoned, was stand in a puddle and then wait for Alistair to hit him. Even telepaths can slip on ice.

  Alex jumped for Alistair, and they scrambled on the splintering ice. It was ugly, and his knees cried out as they cracked against the ice, but Alex came out on top, pinning Alistair’s midsection with his legs while Alistair struggled to find purchase against the slick ground. Alex straightened his back to create distance, and then started to batter Alistair around the head and shoulders with fists and elbows, moving quickly to avoid getting tied up.

  It worked. Alistair rolled and made it halfway to his feet, then they slipped from underneath him again. Alex hit him full force with his left elbow, dragging the point across his forehead to break it open. Alistair fell back onto the ice with Alex on top of him, struggling to drive his thumbs into his blood-smeared eyes. Alex leaned forward, putting all of his weight on his thumbs, and then, somehow, he fell right through Alistair, his hands pushing against the frozen ground beneath him, his head surrounded by a cloud of ashes and burning embers.

  “What the fuck?”