Sage plummeted through the glacial air of Titan. She held her breath as she scrambled to switch on the helmet built into her armor. Even seconds of being exposed to Titan’s atmosphere would’ve been enough to leave her lungs frozen. By the time the helmet encased her head, her face was already completely numb.
Her world went silent. She searched for the other body that was launched out of the transport. It was falling nearby. The atmosphere on the moon was thick and the gravity was low, so the fall was slower then she expected, making it easy for her swim through the air to get close enough to grab it.
She pulled on the body so that it was beneath her, then positioned herself so that her artificial arm would take the brunt of the impact. It wasn’t long before they crashed into the angled lip of the Ksa Crater. There was a scratching sensation around the already numbed nerve endings of her shoulder as they skidded down the slope, but her arm held up fine. The body beneath her wasn’t so lucky. The armor worn by the corpse was shredded by the rocky surface, and by the time they slid to a halt the man’s face was a bloody pulp.
Sage pushed off and rolled wearily onto her side. She swallowed a glob of blood before taking a deep breath. Her whole world was turned upside down. All she had done was tell the truth, and for it she had lost the trust of all those she’d sworn to serve. Benjar clearly feared that she was a traitor, but after what happened there would be no further doubts. By striking his Hand all the forces on Titan would soon be searching for her. The chances of her returning to the simple life she longed for were slipping away.
Is this how Cassius felt when he claims they betrayed him? she thought before quickly telling herself, No. She could never do what he’d apparently done.
She glanced up at the sky and watched the transport continuing on its way toward the Ascendant, barely visible behind the thick shroud of a brewing storm. It wasn’t turning around, and that meant that Elisha was going to be imprisoned on the New Earth Cruiser. Sage knew better than most what that entailed. There was a reason that Yavortha didn’t toss her from the transport. He was going to keep Elisha locked up in order to use her to get the upper hand on Sage if it came to that. She couldn’t bear to fathom what that would entail.
Sage had to get her off of it.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN—TALON
The Last Request of a Dying Man
The Morastus Clan had the largest personal hollow on all of Ceres Prime. It was buried beneath their port on the Buckle—dozens of tunnels and built-out air pockets sealed off from the public eye. The last time Talon was there he’d been dragged in half-conscious by guards after accidentally killing a miner on Kalliope. Now Kalliope was gone, and they let him walk right in with a two guard escort. It was difficult to grasp how much things had changed in so little time.
The Morastus henchmen wielded pulse-rifles, but after Talon was scanned for weapons they were hardly paying any attention to him. No reason to worry about a dying man, he suspected.
Talon wasn’t nearly as relaxed. He checked down every branch they passed in the low corridor, and constantly glanced back over his shoulder. Zaimur’s quarters were at the very end, just like his father’s used to be—safely buried beneath a mile of solid rock. Every mercenary who went by eyed Talon curiously. He didn’t care. All he could think about was how he’d be able to get a gun pointed at Zaimur’s head so that he’d tell him where Julius and Elisha were being held.
They stopped at a bulge in the passage, where a tall, plated-metal hatch was sunken into the rocky surface. One of the henchman stepped to a small HOLO-Screen hovering off to the side of it.
“Sir, Talon Rayne has arrived,” he said.
“Finally,” Zaimur responded. “He is welcome.”
The hatch popped open and Talon was beckoned through. Zaimur sat at a table inside, staring at the projected map of the Circuit hovering above it. He was wearing one of his usually florid tunics, but there were no women accompanying him this time. The bags under his weary eyes told of a man with no time for leisure. Even his usually feathered hair was uncharacteristically messy, as if he’d just been forcefully woken up. It appeared that even he couldn’t find a way to escape what happened on Kalliope in order to focus on the brighter parts of life.
“Talon!” Zaimur exclaimed. “What a surprise seeing you back here.” He bounced up from his seat, and his long-legged dog Magda quickly emerged from beneath the table to stand at his side. She bore her fangs at Talon.
“I’m not here for a reunion, Zaimur.” Talon stormed in, “What the fuck did you do with Julius? What did you do with my daughter?”
Zaimur allowed his beast to edge a little nearer to Talon. “Now, now Talon, we don’t want a repeat of last time. Sit, I’ll have someone fetch us a drink and we’ll talk. I have a lot I want to ask you about how you found yourself back here. It isn’t every day a man escapes the Tribune.”
“Where is she?”
Zaimur shook his head in disappointment. “You know, my father always spoke highly of your professionalism. He must have been losing his memory even then.”
Talon noticed Zaimur shoot a subtle nod toward his henchman. He knew what it meant. He braced himself and tried to ignore how sore his arm remained from the punch he’d thrown back outside of Dome 534. He waited until he could feel their breath on his neck, then he sprang at the closest one. He grasped the henchman’s rifle and twisted it around until it was wrapped around the man’s neck. Then, while choking him, he aimed it directly at Zaimur.
“Tell me!” Talon snarled. The gagging henchman used his hands to beg his comrade not to shoot. Zaimur kept his eyes fixed on the barrel of the gun, his hands lain gently upon his dog’s head.
“You think I took them?” The signs of a grin touched Zaimur’s lips. “Why would I? You failed your mission and the shipments of Gravitum to the Belt are as low as they have ever been. What could I possibly have needed from them? Julius already worked in my mine and your daughter is so young that the Tribune may be crawling through this place by the time she’s old enough to be of any real use.”
“Stop lying! I know you don’t want to die.” Talon glanced down at where the sleeve of his tunic was pulled up enough to reveal his forearm and the visible symptoms of the Blue Death. He made sure Zaimur noticed it as well. “But I don’t have any choice, as you know. Now tell me where they are, or I’ll paint this room with your brain without a second thought.”
“You’ll do no such thing, boy,” the feeble voice of an old man said.
Talon and Zaimur’s heads snapped toward its origin.
Zargo Morastus came shuffling through the entrance of an adjacent room. A guard on either shoulder helped him stay upright. The pieces of his skin that showed were sagging, but even that wasn’t enough to hide his veins. They were as blue as Tarsis’s, maybe even more so, and his face was so gaunt that he looked to be disintegrating.
An android followed closely behind him. Talon recognized it. Zargo kept many in his employ, but this one had a distinctive dent in its side that was put there when the Gravity Generator overloaded on Kalliope and sentenced both he and Talon to death. Presently, it was carrying a glass of genuine, golden-hued alcohol in its hands and remaining quiet.
The henchman Talon restrained punched the barrel of the rifle up, allowing him to easily break free of Talon’s grasp and elbow him so hard in the stomach that he keeled forward. Before Talon could do a thing two guns were pointed at his head. He could hear the footsteps of even more henchman approaching from down the hall.
“Zargo,” Talon mouthed.
Seeing him helped him ignore his present situation. Instead he found himself lowering his head slightly in reverence. Nobody had seen the true leader of the Morastus clan much since he contracted the Blue Death, but there he was. It seemed like a lifetime ago that he was the closest thing Talon had to a father. It was difficult to see him so fragile.
“Lower your weapons,” Zargo ordered.
Though he’d only had the disease as long as Talon, even s
peaking seemed to be a strenuous activity for him. Being an elderly man made his body too frail to keep the wave of symptoms even slightly at bay.
“Don’t let him out of your sight,” Zaimur said sternly to his henchman. “Go back to sleep father, I’ll handle this.”
Zargo moved further into the room. “Soon I’ll be sleeping forever, boy. For now, I am the leader of this clan. You will lower your weapons. Now.”
The henchmen took a step back and positioned themselves on either side of the room’s entrance. Zaimur scowled, but only took a seat.
“You look well, old friend,” Zargo said.
“So do you.” Talon grasped the old man’s hand. It felt weak enough to crumple in his hand, like the paper in the books of the Ancients.
Zargo blurted out in laughter, which quickly transitioned to a cough. “No need to be dishonest with me,” he grated. “Not you, of all people. I get enough of that.”
Talon grinned as he got to his feet. “You look like shit, sir.”
“So do you.”
“Are you two finished yet?” Zaimur said impatiently. “A fine example of Morastus justice you’re showing here, father. This man aimed a gun at your son!”
Zargo shot him an irritated glare. “This man helped put down the Chulen Clan uprising on Pallus Major when you were no taller than your chair. You will show some damn respect.”
“Yes, I remember,” Zaimur grumbled. “And then he left us. So what does that make him now? Another one of your lost followers?”
“An old friend, whom I would advise to request speaking with me next time he needs information rather than barging in here.” Zargo took a measured breath. “If you beat everyone who speaks against you, my son, you won’t have any friends left.”
“Forgive me, sir,” Talon replied earnestly. “The Blue Death causes me to lose my composure from time to time.”
“You and me both,” Zargo said.
“But I believe your son knows where my daughter is. I don’t want any more problems with him; I just want to see her again.”
“Is that true?” Zargo asked Zaimur.
Zaimur shrugged without looking up. “Parts of it,” he said. “But I don’t respond well to having guns pointed at me. Unless you’d rather be left without an heir when you finally go.”
“Is it!?” Zargo barked. The booming voice of his father forced shades of fear into Zaimur’s face.
“Fine. If you want to hear. She…she was on Kalliope.”
Talon stormed toward Zaimur. The henchmen standing guard stirred, reaching for their belts. The hound lunged forward and growled at him, but Talon got as close as he could manage without getting bitten. “What are you talking about?” he questioned. “She was here, with Julius!”
“She was, until your friend, Julius, volunteered for the next shift on Kalliope. Left with her for the asteroid only a few days after the Tribune captured you.”
“You’re lying!” Talon reached out and grabbed Zaimur by the collar. The henchmen quickly had their rifles aimed at his back. The dog would have dug her fangs into his leg if Zargo didn’t hold her at bay.
“I have the transport charter and recordings to prove it if you’d like to see.”
“You’re lying…” Talon stumbled backwards. His legs wobbled and he fell to his knees. “You’re lying!”
“I actually wish that I was,” Zaimur sneered. “He was a good worker, and that was a valuable rock the Tribune desecrated.”
His heart was racing so fast that it felt like it was going to burst through his rib cage. Talon hunched over on the floor, struggling to draw a breath.
“Talon,” a voice said.
He couldn’t respond. His throat was too constricted for him to even attempt to squeeze any words out.
“Talon,” the voice repeated softly. Then a hand fell on his shoulder and he looked up through wet eyes to see the blurry outline of Zargo Morastus’s face hovering over him. The old man had left his helpers behind and his skinny legs were trembling beneath his own weight.
“The Tribune will pay for what they’ve done,” Zargo declared. “The clans are convening today to discuss our options. Hell, the Lakura Clan is already preparing their forces to attack the Tribunal Port on 5261 Eureka against my advice.”
“Discuss?” Talon replied weakly after he was finally able to inhale. “What is there left to discuss?”
“How we can possibly survive this war,” Zaimur chimed in.
“We won’t!” Talon snarled.
Another henchman came running into the room and whispered something in Zaimur’s ear. “Father, I’m afraid I must cut this short,” he said. “I have urgent matters I must attend to before the clan meeting.”
“Son, this is not the—” Zargo was cut off by Talon managing to lift himself to his feet.
Talon looked down at the hunched, broken-down lord of the Morastus. “Thank you, sir,” he said. “For everything. Discuss what you need to. There’s nothing more for me here.” He stepped past him toward the exit.
“Talon, where are you going?”
“To say goodbye.” He took another step, and then stopped without looking back. “I know we’ve had our differences, Zaimur, but is it possible for me to see the surveillance recordings at the dock my daughter left from? Please. It’s the last request of a dying man.”
Zaimur was already rushing out of the room ahead of him, but he slowed down and said, “I’ll have one of my men upload it to a HOLO-Pad. Grab it on your way out. Consider it payment for your former service, Talon Rayne.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN—CASSIUS
The Enemy of my Enemy
A host of Morastus ships led the White Hand into the clan’s private hangar on Ceres Prime. ADIM made sure to keep him informed of the missiles locked on their position throughout the entire arrival. He didn’t concern himself with it. He knew the risk he was taking by cruising into the den of the people he had battered. But they would need him once the bullets started flying, and he needed them as well.
“ADIM, Ceres is going to be different than anywhere else we’ve ever been,” Cassius said as he guided the White Hand down a rocky, vertical tunnel as slowly as he could.
ADIM turned his head to him, but his eyes weren’t spinning. “I understand.”
“Do you? They are going to curse me. They may even try to kill me.”
“They have already tried. This Unit will ensure your safety.”
The White Hand touched down gently and Cassius stood to look directly into his Creation’s face. “I have no doubt that you could. But it is important that you conceal yourself for now. There will be other androids here, weaker than the imitations of you that I built. They are capable of little more than menial tasks, and if you cannot hide, this is what you must pretend you are. You must blend in, however you can.”
Cassius reached up and pulled the com-links out of both of his ears. He held them out in an open palm. With his other hand he then reached into the satchel by his belt and pulled out the HOLO-Sphere with the only known recording of Caleb Vale on it.
“They will strip me of everything. I’m leaving these in your hands for now,” he said evenly.
ADIM took the three devices and held them up. The tiny lights around ADIM’s blazing red eyes spun wildly. “How will this Unit be able to contact you?”
“Track me. Use the gifts I gave you to blend in. They must not know you exist until I have their support.”
“Creator, this Unit will not let them harm you.”
“I was an Executor,” he proclaimed. “Ceresians don’t concern me. I’ll handle myself.”
ADIM’s eyes slowed in their rotation. He opened up a plate of his right arm and placed the com-links and recorder inside. “This Unit will not be found. ‘There is no weapon more valuable than being underestimated,’” he recited words Cassius had spoken on the 403rd day of his existence.
“You never forget anything I say, do you?”
“This Unit was created not to.”
&n
bsp; “Trust me. I know,” Cassius answered. “Now, I also need you to store all of the White Hand’s data banks in your memory core. Ennomos, our navigation charts, and especially the last recorded imagery provided by the Vale Protocol. The Ceresians must not be able to see until I permit it.”
“Yes, Creator,” ADIM responded. He reached down to the console beside Cassius’s chair and spread his fingers out over it.
“Gaia, please transmit all data over to ADIM. Now.”
“Yes, Captain,” Gaia answered. “Shall I also store my own memory banks with him?”
“For now, yes.”
“This Unit does not require her assistance in order to access the files,” ADIM insisted.
Cassius looked past him. A mass of Morastus soldiers formed around the ship. “Just trying to speed things—”
“Finished.” ADIM said. There was a low-pitched whine as the ship’s power quickly turned off, all of the lights with it.
Cassius snickered. He wasn’t sure why he constantly let himself be surprised by ADIM. “Keep them safe.”
“Yes, Creator.”
“And yourself too. Good luck, ADIM, even though I know you don’t require it.”
“This Unit will not be far.”
“I hope not.” He sighed and headed down to the cargo bay. His ear felt naked without being synced to his creation, and he knew ADIM likely shared that sentiment. But if everything went according to plan then they wouldn’t be separated for long.
“Gaia, lower the ramp.” Cassius said to the dark ceiling. The silent response reminded him that he’d just stored her. It’d been a long time since he had to physically press the commands to open up his ship. Once he was sure nobody was going to storm onto his ship he strolled slowly down the sunken ramp. He knew that the Ceresians were going to be cautious, but it appeared that the Morastus Clan was a little less willing to throw themselves at him then their Lakura kin.
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