King of Ends

by Sam Ryder

  The crowd consisted of male Enders, who packed the place shoulder to shoulder, their blue skin radiating the sunlight. A buzz ran through their ranks as we entered the square, all eyes following our progress as we moved the crowd, which parted before us. I didn’t look forward, like every instinct was telling me to do. No, I met the eyes of each male I passed, offering nods of thanks. Their mutations were varied. Some of the men had horns growing from their lips, while others had long, sharp horns curving out from their scalps. There were bulging eyes and bulbous noses, reptilian skin and skin with bumps all over it. They were hideous and a sight for sore eyes all at the same time. They were my army, so long as I didn’t screw up this speech.

  All six of us mounted the steps, our footfalls echoing across the square and quieting the crowd’s murmurs.

  Thankfully, Lustak addressed them first, for which I was grateful. “Men!” Lustak shouted. “Thank you for answering the call of the Corps.” I enjoyed watching this version of Lustak do his thing. Though he bore the mutations suffered by all male Enders, his voice boomed with authority and pride. I could imagine him standing in front of soldiers on the cusp of the Nor-Kor-Russian War. He was in his element. “Now, I ask that you give your attention to the man responsible for all of this. Without him, we would be stuck in the mire, waiting to be slaughtered.”

  I swallowed hard and stepped forward, trying not to show the pain from my injured leg on my face. Lustak grabbed my shoulder on the way past and whispered, “Mean what you say, soldier.”

  His advice helped more than he probably knew. A strange calm settled over me as I stood to address the men. Like before, I didn’t avoid eye contact. I didn’t stare at the floor. I met their gazes and stared right back at them.

  Then I spoke:

  “Trust is earned, not given. So is respect. I’m not an Ender. Humans have spent the past decade slaughtering your families, your friends. Many of my kind have committed atrocities against your kind.”

  There were nodding heads, which I took for a good thing. I continued:

  “Just a few weeks ago, an Ender woman entered my life. This woman here. Gehn is her name.” Gehn’s eyes met mine, giving me a measure of strength. “Before her, I kept away from Enders. I kept away from everyone. I didn’t live in Rome or Paris or Geneva. I didn’t go near the other cities. Instead, I hung around outposts, avoiding the conflict. I was ignorant. I blamed both sides. I was wrong. For that, I’m sorry.”

  Many of the men shifted on their feet at that statement, many stares narrowing to fine poinits. For a second, I worried they would rush the platform and tear me apart. My apology meant nothing without action. I hurried onward.

  “I was wrong,” I repeated. “I know that now. In my time with Enders, I’ve learned of your suffering. You are not all good. You are not all bad. You are not all perfect, just like me. You may not be considered human anymore, but in my mind we are the same. You’ve been persecuted for a transformation you had no control over. I say fuck that. That ends starting today.”

  The crowd began murmuring again. It sounded positive, especially because it was coupled with more nodding heads. Someone shouted, “Hoo-rah!” Someone ex-military. That made me feel even more comfortable, despite the dozens of sets of eyes focused entirely on me, the dozens of ears listening to my every word.

  “As soldiers, you will fight the Rising, but not alone as Enders only. Our army will consist of humans and Enders, standing and fighting together. United for a greater good. Today, I ask you to follow me onto the battlefield. To fight alongside me and my kind. I was a soldier in the United States military when the Blast struck. That Blast stole many brothers from me. We didn’t always see eye to eye, but when we fought, we were united.

  “Let’s forge a new brotherhood together. Let’s fight the Rising together. And when we win this war, we will unite the Ends. I know, I know, there are plenty of you who doubt whether this is possible. I get that. But I am the proof that it is possible. You don’t know me, but you can see that I’m here. You’ve seen me fight the Guild. Believe what your eyes have seen. Don’t do it for me yet. Do it for your mothers and your fathers. Do it for your brothers and your sisters. Your martyrs. Your survivors. Find that person who will fuel the fire inside you, until it cannot be extinguished. And then, let’s march into Rome and kick the Rising’s asses into the dust.”

  A smattering of cheers and hoo-rahs! erupted from the crowd. It felt good, though I suspected the males had been planted by Lustak. “Not bad,” he said. “Maybe we’ll make an officer of you yet.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “What next?”

  “I’ll get a fresh count of our number and have my men start to train them up.”

  “What about weapons? We have some, but we’ll need more. Guns are in short supply but we’ll scour the city for them. Also, anything sharp will be collected.”

  It wasn’t the best, but it would have to do. “Okay. Perfect.” I turned to Adi. “It’s time for you to round up some more willing medics.”

  She nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

  Hannah said, “I’ll come with you.” Belenie also went with them, threading through the crowd with the two Enders flanking Hannah. Though we seemed to have allies, there was still a degree of risk that could not be ignored.

  Gehn would come with me and Lustak. I had a feeling she would be helpful in the next conversation, the most important one yet. It was time to meet with Belogon.

  Chapter 19

  Dead Enders

  “I think you won them over,” Gehn said as we walked out of the meeting space.

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Here’s the thing about Ender males—they wear their hearts on their sleeves,” Gehn said. “If they didn’t like you, you’d know it. You would’ve been spat upon, jeered. And since they don’t do a great job of controlling their tempers, you’d be dead already if they really wanted you dead.”

  She was right. The very fact I was breathing was a positive sign, as strange as that was.

  “Where are we meeting Belogon?” Gehn asked.

  “Back at the Corp.”

  We made our way back to Lustak’s office, discovering the door open and waiting for our arrival. Belogon and Lustak were staring at each other when we walked in, saying nothing.

  “What’d I miss?” I asked.

  “This asshole thinks hell would have to freeze over before we defeat the Rising,” Lustak said.

  Belogon snorted. “An inaccurate paraphrase. You never were very detail-oriented.”

  Lustak rose to his feet, upsetting his chair in the process. He looked ready to leap across the desk for some old-fashioned fisticuffs, but I rushed forward and planted myself between them. “The Rising won’t have to kill us if we kill each other first.”

  Lustak stared at me for a long second, but then laughed and slapped me on the back. “A fair point. No infighting. You’re right. This bastard just gets my temper up.”

  I didn’t point out that his temper was already up most of the time. I turned toward Belogon. “Can you control your tongue? You wanted Lustak sober, so this is the version you get.”

  Lustak sat down hard.

  Belogon said nothing, unfurling a hand-drawn map and spreading it out across Lustak’s desk.

  “This is a rough sketch of Rome,” he said, pointing to various points on the map. “It’s the largest city in the Ends. You plan to breach the city’s defenses and fight your way to Atticus’s headquarters, break down some doors, and then kill him dead. Correct?”

  “Something like that. But the details need to be worked out. That’s where we’ll need your advice.”

  “OK, then I’ll give it. See here and here?” He pointed to the two main thoroughfares into the city, which was walled in around the rest of the perimeter.

  I shrugged. “So what?”

  Atticus isn’t a fool. He designed this city to protect himself. It’s his stronghold. These two entrances are choke points. Even with ten thousand men, you�
��d lose thousands just trying to get through these spots, which will be heavily defended.”

  I frowned. His point made a lot of sense. No matter how many men we had, only ten or so would be able to enter the city at a time if they were shoulder to shoulder.

  “What are you saying? What’s the alternative?”

  “I’m saying you shouldn’t attack Rome. Find a way to draw his forces out onto the open plains. Then you might stand a fool’s chance of victory.”

  “What if he doesn’t rise to the bait?” I asked.

  “A siege,” Belogon said, practically licking his chops at the prospect. “Surround the city. Prevent any supplies from coming in from the outposts. Rome is self-sufficient in some ways, but not others. They have plenty of water from ground wells, but food is an issue. They have some animals that can be slaughtered over time, but most of their food comes from farmers working land near the various outposts.”

  “You think that would work?”

  “This is all hypothetical, but yes. However, you will still lose. That’s what I was telling Lustak before you arrived. The numbers are simply not there. Even with the new recruits from today, you’ll be hundreds short of what you’ll need.

  “We aren’t done recruiting.”

  “What? You think Geneva will be interested in joining our cause?”

  I didn’t point out that he’d said our. Instead, I said, “No, I do not. We’ll be recruiting on my turf—the outposts.

  “You’ll be lucky to get a dozen able-bodied men at each outpost. Plus, what makes you think humans would be interested in our cause.”

  “I’m human.”

  “Yeah, I’m still trying to figure out why you’re so dumb—were you dropped as a baby?”

  “Ha. Funny. Look, Gehn here saw a vision of me and an army storming Rome. So, though I value your opinion and you’re making a lot of sense, I have to politely say, “Fuck you.”

  Belogon’s expression changed, and I thought he might try to rearrange my face, but then he smiled once more. “Lustak told me you gave a helluva speech at the center square, so perhaps you used up all your silver-tongued words.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just speaking to you in the language you understand. Look, we need your help. We want your help. But I won’t beg. I won’t offer you the world or money or power. All I can offer is a chance to take out the Rising once and for all. Maybe then the world can begin to be rebuilt.”

  Belogon looked at me with interest. “You really think you can recruit human men to the Ender cause?”

  “Definitely,” I thought. These were my people, I knew how to talk to them. “But I’ll need some coin to grease the wheels.”

  “That can be arranged,” Belogon said. “Leave it to me.”

  “So you’re with us?”

  “I didn’t say that. I’m still on the fence. If you can prove you stand half a chance, I’m on board.”

  It was good enough for me. It had to be. “Thank you. Any chance you’d be willing to share your thoughts on our attack strategy for Rome?”

  “I have some thoughts. If we end up having the numbers, you split your force, making one group extremely visible, not trying to mask their progress toward Rome. Atticus will prepare for them the standard way, prepared to kill as many as possible at the choke points into the city.”

  “And the other group?”

  “They travel the long route under the cover of darkness. We build ladders and ropes with grappling hooks. When night falls on the eve of the battle, we breach the city’s walls and attack the Rising when they are unprepared.”

  “Does anyone know the approximate size of the Rising’s military force?” I asked. It was a question I should’ve asked sooner. Though I’d been to Rome, I hadn’t exactly had time to take a tour of the Rising’s military barracks.

  To my surprise, it was Gehn who answered. “Fifteen hundred, give or take. But that’s excluding any members of the Guild who are working for them now. According to Hannah, the Guild was at least five hundred strong while she was with them.”

  Two thousand. It was more than I’d expected. It made Belogon’s thought that we’d need a thousand to be safe sound way too low.

  “They’ll also be well-armed,” Belogon said. “The Rising’s resources have made sure of that.”

  I could see why the ex-military strategist was on the fence about joining us. Thus far, it was sounding like a suicide mission. “So we’re fucked,” I said.

  “Not necessarily,” Belogon said. “Defeating a force double your size is difficult, but not impossible with the right military strategy.”

  The only problem, I quickly realized, was that their force was currently closer to ten times our size, which made growing our army to a thousand even more crucial.

  “Let’s assume we get a thousand soldiers and split them like you suggested,” Lustak said. “You said the second group sneaks over the wall under cover of darkness. What does the first group do, besides being a distraction?”

  “They will handle what I like to call the ‘blunt force trauma.’ They will attack the two entry points hard. They will be outnumbered and outgunned but will pull our enemy away from the area in which the real attack will commence. A small contingent from the second group will be responsible for breaching Atticus’s palace and taking him out. Leaderless, the Rising will be more likely to fold, maybe even surrender.”

  “They’re not going to surrender,” Gehn said. It wasn’t an opinion, or a guess; no, this was a statement of fact from someone who’d seen the streets of Rome run red with rivers of blood. The only question that remained was how much would be ours versus our enemy’s.

  “And you really think this will work?” I asked. “No disrespect, but it seems pretty simplistic. Smash on one side and grab on the other. We might as well be holding up a liquor store.”

  Belogon held up one finger. “Being a good strategist has nothing to do with brilliant or creative concepts,” he said. “All the creativity in the world does not matter if you don’t have the personnel to carry it out. A smart strategist will play to his unit’s strengths and cover for their weaknesses.”

  “And how does this do that?” I asked.

  “We currently only have about two hundred soldiers,” he said. “Only a few dozen or so are properly trained, if we’re lucky. Everyone else is a layman. It’s a volunteer, amateur military operation. A militia, if you will. We cannot expect them to carry out an elite mission requiring extensive training. They are not navy seals or marines. But they are aggressive, big, and can hit as hard as a battering ram. So let’s use that to our advantage.”

  “Fair enough. Any other options to consider, or is this the best one?”

  “Not with this group,” Belogon continued. “I mean, you could train them for a year or two and then maybe they’d be ready to serve. I don’t think we have that kind of time.”

  “No, I guess we don’t,” I agreed. In two years, the Rising would only be more powerful and by then they might’ve launched their own attack on Paris.

  “As much as I hate to admit it, I agree with Belogon,” Lustak said. “Speed is king, especially after the latest Guild attack.”

  “How soon can we get them out and pull the trigger on this?” I asked.

  “Two days,” Belogon replied.

  “Seriously?” I asked. “With no proper training?”

  “They don’t need proper military training,” Belogon said. “They just need enough to know how to storm these entrances. We can do that in a day.”

  I admired his confidence. The two-day turnaround time made me a little nervous, but if they were good with it, I had to be too. The bigger problem would be recruiting out in the field. We needed to time our arrival in Rome with both groups, all while stopping at outposts and trying to convince others to join our cause. But I had one more question before we broke up our little meeting.

  “And you believe the Ender males will fight when the time comes?”

  Lustak looked at Belogon
. Belogon looked at Lustak. I could sense that a few thoughts passed between them in that look. I didn’t like what I saw. “What are you not telling me?” I asked.

  Belogon sighed. “Your question is a good one. I’m sorry, but you might not like the answer. I cannot guarantee the Enders won’t cut and run when the time comes.”

  I frowned. That was not was I wanted to hear. “Why? I thought Enders were drawn to violence? Wouldn’t the prospect of a battle excite them—you?”

  “Yes and no,” Belogon said. “Cutter, you haven’t seen into the minds of Enders like me and Lustak. Nobody banished us here as a group. We are a group because we live in the same city, but that’s not how we got there. We got here because the Rising killed any Enders who didn’t flee after transformation. If one of us escaped, we came here. Paris became a safe haven for our kind This happened one person or one family at a time. Think of the city’s growth as a trickle rather than a deluge. That puts us at a psychological disadvantage.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “People bond over shared experiences. But as Enders, we went through our banishment individually. So we coped individually. We hardened ourselves on our own. As Ender males, we don’t feel the emotions most humans, including the females, are accustomed to. Our emotions consist of anger, malice, vengeance…”

  “But you’re—you seem normal.” I knew it wasn’t the best word choice, but it was the only one I could come up with in that moment.

  Belogon laughed. “No one is normal these days. But when it comes to male Enders, there are those of us who are better at co-existing with humans. It takes a great effort though, I must admit. If you hadn’t showed up when you did, Lustak and I may have fought to the death.”

  Lustak nodded. “I am still restraining myself, trying to be cordial when every ounce of my being wants to leap over this desk and rip Belogon’s head from his neck.”