Residual: The Gray-Matter Chronicles Book 3 (The Matter Chronicles 6)

by P. G. Thomas

  As the portal winked out, a dark figure stepped out of an alley, and in the orange light, pulled off his black mask, then headed towards the tunnel under the river.

  *******

  Sleeping at his desk in the office that night, Jedimac heard the knock of opportunity. Feeling his chair shake, he opened his startled eyes to see the entire building quivering. Looking out the window, he saw the buildings on the north side of the Key trembling, like they were in fear. Lampposts swayed from side to side, buildings collapsed, and in the night sky, he saw the orange monster erupt. Rushing to the room across the hall where the night runners slept, steadying himself in the doorway, he gave his instructions. “Dawn races our way with a new opportunity. Go tell all of the guilds to assemble to block the bridges fast. Since Darkpaye will need help, there is no reason we should let them negotiate the wages. No craftsman shall pass unless we have a contract paid in full for services to be rendered. While house servants may pass, any others they want to do the heavy lifting, the rebuilding, they belong to us. Tell them our cut is twenty-five, no twenty percent. We need gold back in this town, and this is our chance to level the playing field, now that Darkpaye has been flattened. GO!”

  *******

  Once at the house, Lauren walked out onto the patio where Gayne had prepared a selection of drinks for their celebration. However, he never saw her approach, as his eyes were focused on the orange and red beast that consumed the pre-dawn skies. When he heard somebody pour a drink, he turned to see Lauren filling a glass with one hand, wiping away her tears with the other.

  She couldn’t look at him, “I never thought—”

  Ryan sat down beside her, “Zymse would’ve killed eighty Bastards, and we would’ve twenty more to fight. We didn’t have a choice.”

  “Who’s the monster now? I heard babies crying and children screaming for their parents…” Then Lauren began to cry harder.

  Picking up a bottle, after Steve took a long drink, he turned to Lauren, “Ryan’s right, we had to do something. If we just freed them, Zymse would know somebody was acting against him. This is just a natural disaster that’ll take him weeks to dig out from, but I’ll bet he doesn’t even try.”

  Lauren pushed her tears away, “Right? How does that wrong,” she pointed to the massive inferno, “make anything right?”

  “While I’ll catch crap for this later, the day Zymse kidnaped your daughters, he declared war on you, and even before that, on Mother. His trollmares killed untold families in the Newlands. His Midnight Sun, there’s no guessing how many died because of it. The desperation caused by the Darkpaye immigrants, kicking the honest citizens out of their homes. How many do you think took a long walk off a short pier? You’re at war, and your daughters are hostages. If this is what we have to do to fight back, then, yes, innocents on both sides will suffer, but if you don’t, more will suffer until we stop Zymse! That includes your daughters!”

  Lauren stood, her face twisted in torment, trying to hold back her tears, “I TOLD YOU NOT TO CALL THEM THAT!”

  He turned his back to her, “You’re in a war, they’re hostages, and from what I know, this will get worse before it gets better.”

  “Children died tonight!” exclaimed Lauren.

  “You’re right, but we just increased the chances of getting yours back.”

  “You’re a black-hearted bastard, you know?” Picking up Lauren, Ryan carried her up to their room.

  Steve continued to stare at the blaze. “I know and that cancer leeched into my soul.”

  Eric walked over, grabbed the bottle, “Do you enjoy making her angry?”

  “No, do you enjoy seeing her cry?” asked Steve.

  “What the hell do you mean by that?”

  “If she loses her daughters, it’ll crush her. If we ended up fighting thirty bastards, well, we wouldn’t stand a chance. Look, I thought earthquake like everybody else. Ground shakes, building falls, but that was the mother of all earthquakes because it went right off the Richter Scale. Still, you can’t go back, undoing what’s done. I’ve tried.”

  “Then why make her angry?”

  “Because the next decision she has to make, it could be worse. If she considers others before her own daughters, it could be the end for all of us. If she wants to hate me, I can take it. I’m just not paying her alimony since that fan club only has two spots, and they’re both taken.”

  “You’re not making a lot of sense right now.”

  Steve held out his hand for the bottle. “Look, I’ve seen this before, when missions—go bad. It was the reason why I left the service, but I thought we had the bastard that night. Weeks later, sitting stateside, I was still going through debriefings. A general called me to a meeting room, showed me some footage taken by a helicopter flying over a mountain valley, and the entire thing was a mass grave. The bastard flew in bulldozers to dig the pits! That night we killed about a hundred, mostly innocent, and that was why we didn’t complete our mission, as we thought the price was too high. That sick bastard, he escaped, eradicating an entire religious population, and I wondered if we had actually torched the rest of the town, like we were ordered to, if we would’ve killed him, putting an end to his madness.” Steve took another drink. “I agree with Lauren, rights don’t correct wrongs, and wrongs can’t be undone.”

  “Then what do we do?”

  Letting out a small chuckle, he turned to Eric, “Oh, you were serious?”

  “Yes!”

  “They told me I was one of the good guys, fighting the good fight. The leaders on the other side, well, they told their men the same thing. The truth is, there are no good fights, no good guys, just fights. There used to be good reasons, but they died when the nuclear age was born, and now there is just gray—ever-shifting shades of gray. One day you’re a hero, the next a villain. They praised me for killing the bad guys, praised me for letting them live. You kill a warlord who’s terrorizing a town, who even takes their kids, and the next time you drive through it, they fling crap at you. Why? Even though they hated him, he still looked after them. Yeah, I’ve seen monsters through a scope, and I’ve seen them when I shave in the morning. What do we do? We keep doing wrongs and rights until we run out of them.”

  “Then?”

  “The victor writes the history, omitting the wrongs, glorifying the rights.”

  “That guy, the mass grave in the valley?”

  Steve took a long drink, trying to wash the disturbing film from his memory, “Did you ever hear about that bastard on the news? Let me save you the trouble of trying to remember because you didn’t. It only exists in classified files because we un-wrote all of the wrongs—at least back home, and that, my friend, is what we need to do here. Make everything right, trying to forget how we did it, because our way to heaven is through hell. On this journey, it’s the destination that’s important, not this path of the damned we walk that leads to our salvation.” Before heading into the house, he finished the bottle.

  “There is something peculiar about your friend,” advised Gayne.

  Eric nodded.

  *******

  Logan raced through the smoke-filled streets, putting out the fires, but even though the earthquake had stopped, there seemed to be an increasing number, as he still saw fires in the distant dark. When a young child ran out into the street crying in distress, he grabbed her, trying to comfort her, but the roaring fires drowned out his words. Pulling the young one to his chest, he ran against the hot winds trying to break free from the smoke, looking for another to take it to safety, and spotted a young lad who he called to for help.

  The young man accepted the child, “You should come with me!”

  “No, I’m a Bastard. I’m trying to put out the fires!”

  The youth turned, “Father, brothers. There’s a Bastard here putting them out.”

  As the breeze shifted, smoke swirled around Logan, and he heard a voice from behind him. “He seems to be doing an incredible job. How can this be?”

  L
ogan coughed out smoke, “I’m the first Bastard.”

  “Really?”

  Feeling an intense chill, Logan began to shake. Calling the warmth of the nearest fire to him, being so cold, he was unable to concentrate. Exhausted from his fight, not understanding why the cold now attacked him, he felt a blow to the back of his head, which sent him reeling into darkness.

  As the smoke cleared, Zymse Darpac looked down at Logan and the Black Bastard who stood beside him. “You have done well, my son.” He turned to the others. “You all have done well this night. They bought all of these properties, spending all of their wealth trying to corner the market, so when new immigrants arrive, they could sell them these meager dwellings at inflated prices. This night, those dreams went up in smoke, so now I am still the richest from Darkpaye, and shortly, I will rule all of the lands.” A carriage with several mounted guards pulled up behind him, “Strip him, tie him up, and put him inside.” The one youth who held the child, dropped it, retrieving a rope from the carriage, and the remaining Black Bastards helped to secure the unconscious Logan. The entire time, Zymse carefully observing each. Calling one to his side, he pointed to the rest, “You will continue your destruction.” Then they started to head down a dark street, looking for suitable places to illuminate the night.

  The one that remained, who had first found Logan, looked at Zymse. “Of me, Father?”

  “I have a special reward for you. Kneel.” When the Black Bastard did so, Zymse drove his dagger pommel into the base of his skull, knocking him unconscious, and then he called to his guards. “Dress him in the First Bastard’s clothes.” He then pointed to the crying youth on the street. “After you wrap that dead child in his arms, place his body face down in a building. Before you leave him, crush his skull with a beam, and set the house back on fire. Make it look like an accident, that he was trying to save somebody, but the burning house killed him.”

  After the gruesome scene had been staged, the carriage with guards left. Then a dark figure stepped out from the shadows, pulling off the black mask that concealed his pale face, and he tried to understand what was just witnessed.

  “You, what are you doing?”

  The night thief turned, seeing the Darkpaye Watch, cursed at his misfortune, “Just trying to get back home, boss.”

  The six guards approached him, “Where do you work?”

  “Three streets up, four over, boss.”

  “Do you have your papers?”

  “No, boss, they was in the house when she burnt.”

  The Darkpaye guard nodded. “Too bad you did not leave your weapons with them. We really dislike it when scum like you come here to loot.”

  “Was not looting, boss.”

  “Turn around. We are taking you in for questioning.”

  Chapter 17

  In front of Alron’s statue, the five wagons from the prison break stopped, and hundreds jumped into action, placing the sleeping Bastards onto the makeshift stretchers, which they carried to the various facilities that had been prepared that day. Nur with Gingaar did their best to look at each briefly, seeing if any injuries were more extensive, but with such horrific wounds, they both wondered how many would live.

  Ramy found John sitting on the steps of Pintar’s two hours later, walked inside, pouring two mugs of beer before returning. As he sat down, he handed John one, taking a sip of his own, “You did a good thing tonight.”

  We all know that no good deed goes unpunished. “Thanks,” John said. “How’re they doing?”

  “Too soon to tell because they are all in rough shape. Had to keep them gagged and tied to their beds. No idea on what happened to them, as I have never seen eyes so filled with horror before, they almost seemed like their eyes screamed. The Earth Mothers and their protectors went out to the forest today, harvested a large crop of gifts from Mother. Then they spent the rest of the day explaining the gifts to the volunteers. It will take some time” Ramy took a drink. “A lot of time for some, but you know what our Earth Mothers can do.”

  John set down his mug, “We really didn’t have any choice but to bring them here. How have things been?”

  “Quiet. Quiet in a good way, but I sometimes wonder if that is a bad thing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “As we have not had a flying beast in weeks, I keep thinking that magic tree out front one day will be green again. The boys on the wall used to be a tight group, but standing up there all day, it is getting boring. We have lots of food, picked up a number of wagons of grain, so the beer barons have lots to work with, but without the dwarves in town, they are thinking of dropping the prices. Otherwise, their stocks will go bad. Are you heading back tonight?”

  “I thought I might stick around for a few days, enjoying the quiet.”

  *******

  Jedimac had stayed up late the night before, writing out his orders, once the ground had stopped shaking. The last message repositioned one of the Black Watch squads to observe the old guild hall, including directions on how to access the secret in the walls. More specifically, giving instructions that the smallest who understood Darkpaye should access the tunnels, listening to any meetings of those who entered it. When the morning sun shining through the window woke him, he turned to see how bad the damage was on the north side and smiled. Standing on the south side of the closest bridge, an equal representation from each guild, including his second in command, who all had formed a blockade to prevent any do-gooders from being taken advantage of. On the north side, the brightest of the guilds were negotiating with Darkpaye citizens, who were desperately looking for help. Rubbing the stubble on his cheeks, he splashed some water onto his face before heading outside. Once at the edge of the crowd, he waited.

  Corackas walked over, nodded, “You are up early today.”

  Both walked to a less crowded section of the stone wall, and once a sufficient distance from any curious ears, Jedimac nodded towards the bridge, “What can you tell me?”

  “Me? Tell you?”

  Jedimac smiled, “Is everything under control?”

  “More or less. Even though the Darkpaye citizens are livid, they have little choice, and I never knew we had this many craftsmen in Calicon.”

  “Are the rates fair?”

  “For those on this side of the river, yes. Our cut is reasonable like the Unknown ordered. On the north side, we are committing legal robbery.”

  “Any opposition?”

  “When a few Darkpaye Watch tried to push our guys back, Tiny gave them swimming lessons from the top of the bridge, so they agreed to entertain our terms.”

  “Is there a sufficient representation on the far side, ensuring all transactions are being recorded accurately, so everybody gets their fair share?”

  “The Black Watch commanded it, and besides, with all here, everybody is watching everybody. It is a shame that one guild did not see it first to gain the advantage.”

  “Yes, I know, but there are rules. If the Unknown had only informed his own guild, in a very short period of time they would be calling him the Beheaded. No, I think he was right, as it is better to share the profits for now. If you were in charge, what would you do next?”

  Corackas had become accustomed to Jedimac’s questions, as each was a lesson. “Not sure. I sent one of our brightest across to survey the damage, seeing if he could spot where it started, looking for patterns, oddities. Watching most of it last night from the roof, even from that distance, something looked out of place. I would not act until I had a small idea of what had happened. It is what I was taught: the path to opportunity starts with knowledge.”

  “Golden words to live by, my friend.” Then Jedimac wandered down the street.

  *******

  Lauren walked out onto the patio around noon, looking north, she saw the hundreds of black wisps of smoke floating skyward, wondering how many contained lost souls looking for their version of heaven.

  As Ryan walked up behind her carrying two mugs of hot bean juice, he saw her
wiping away the tears. “My love, we had to free them.”

  Sitting down, she turned her back to the smoldering destruction. Accepting the mug handed to her, with the black contents reminding her of the smoke, she threw it against the house. “What the hell have we done? Last time, I never wanted to raise an army, sending fathers and brothers into battle, but now I burn children in their sleep!”

  Ryan took a slow sip of his drink, “I know.” Realizing there was no safe position in this conversation, he knew that Lauren just wanted somebody to listen and not to tell her what to do.

  “Ryan, what do I do? Seriously! Last night I became a mass murderer, but I didn’t extinguish their lives with mercy, like chopping off their heads. Instead, I burned them alive. Of all of the hellish ways to die, I chose the most horrific.”

  “We didn’t know.”

  “No, you’re wrong. Tranquil told us ‘anybody who lived nearby could be damaged or worse,’ but I was only thinking of the ones who tortured the Bastards. Have I become so blinded by—everything that I no longer care about anything?”

  “Lauren—”

  “Ryan, there are mothers out there right now, burying their children, crying like I do every night that I’ve been in this damn world. Why? Because some faceless monster did something to their most precious creation, and guess what, I’m now that faceless monster they curse at!”

  “Lauren—”

  Steve walked out onto the patio, “What do you want him to say? Do you want him to agree with you, calling you a monster? Or try to convince you it was necessary?”

  She shook her head, “When I first met you, I hated you, but over time, I began to like you. Right now, we’re back to where we started!”

  “When we get back home, I’ll find my ex-wives to introduce you to them. You’ll fit right in. Before you say it, yeah, the number one reason why they’re my ex’s, is because I’m the world’s biggest number two. When I was in the service, they put me through a special class for conflict management. They called it sniper school, which I liked for a while. The conversations were short, distant, one-sided, but it really didn’t translate into civilian life.” Steve could see both Lauren and Ryan’s anger growing. He handed them a picture of their daughters, “I went into your room, took this.”