The Raising (The Torch Keeper Book 3)

by Steven dos Santos

  Croakley and the council fill the Nexus crew in on the atrocities committed by the Establishment and Thorn Republic, complete with holos, docs, and eyewitness testimonials. But the real turning point comes when the evidence against Straton and Sanctum is presented, corroborating all the horrors I’ve already informed the Nexus team of. That’s when Breck and Saffron begin to earnestly share the history of Nexus and the Clathrate Apocalypse, as well as the devastation of the Ash Wars that spurred its creation.

  By the end of the hours long session, Rios begrudgingly gives me a nod and stands to address the group. “It seems like we owe Commander Spark here a debt of gratitude for bringing both sides together in this most crucial hour.”

  There’s thunderous applause, which makes me very uncomfortable. After it’s all over, I make some small talk, and politely excuse myself to find Cole and check on Digory and my friends.

  I enter the small sleeping quarters Cole’s currently sharing with Corin. “What took you so long?” He’s lying down on the bottom bunk while Corin’s on top, oblivious to my presence, busy working on some gadget that bleeps and buzzes.

  I smile, plopping down next to Cole. “I told you I’d try.”

  His arms wrap around my neck tightly. “I’m sorry.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry about. Ever.”

  “It’s working!” Corin leaps down from his bunk holding out his project.

  It’s a tray with a few dark gloves, and some small cases with clear lenses and tiny ear pieces.

  “What’s it do?” Cole asks.

  He’s beaming. “It’s a com system I’ve been working on. The lenses actually transmit audio and video and are undetectable in body scans. Each fingertip accesses different channels by pressing against the thumb. So you can send and receive transmissions without anyone else being aware of what you’re doing.” He holds out the devices. “Why don’t you guys give it a test drive?”

  Cole and I don the devices and take turns using them. I’m surprised to find myself tuning into Cage, Arrah, Dru and Dahlia, assisting the others get situated in bunks and doling out food rations.

  I pat Corin’s shoulder. “Great job. It’ll come in handy on our next mission.” I turn to Cole. “You going to be okay here, buddy? I just have something I need to take care of.”

  Cole nods. “Sure. I hope he’s all right, too.”

  Nodding, I exit the room, the door sliding shut on their excited chatter. Doing my best not to attract any attention, I make my way to Cephas Decatur’s lab. I spy him and Digory speaking through the glass. Digory nods solemnly.

  I knock on the door before entering. “Sorry to bother you.”

  “Not a problem,” Cephas says. “I was just leaving.”

  As he passes me, I take hold of his arm. “Thanks for keeping the Queran thing and Digory’s presence under wraps until I can figure out how to smooth it over,” I say low enough so Digory can’t hear.

  “I understand,” he says. “But we’re running out of time.”

  Then he’s gone.

  I turn to Digory, pleased to see him on his feet and dressed in a jumpsuit instead of his hospital gown. “Looks like someone’s feeling a lot better.”

  “The doctor gave us something to help control the symptoms.”

  “Symptoms of what?” I move in closer.

  “It does not matter.”

  “It does to me.”

  Digory rests his hands on my shoulders. “Lucian. We have to leave here now.”

  “I know you’re concerned about Rios and the others, but I’ll find a way to make them understand.” I rest tentative hands on his waist.

  “It has got nothing to do with that. It is the Hive. They need me.”

  “So you got what you want, the key to your autonomy, and you’re just leaving.”

  He lets go of me. “We know this is hard to understand after everything we have shared. We can see why you and this vessel grew so close before. But that can never be now. We all have different destinies.”

  Pain and fury swirl in my gut, especially since there’s a part of me that knows he’s right.

  “You have to do what you feel.” My voice is hoarse. “When are you leaving?”

  “Right away.”

  A fresh wave of pain seeps into my still opened wounds. “I guess this is goodbye then.” I turn my back on him, unable to stare into his eyes. “Take care of yourself, Digory.”

  Then I’m out the door, fists clenched, teeth digging into my upper lip until I taste warm blood.

  He’s not worthy of me. Of course he betrayed me like all the rest. Forget him.

  My com bleeps to life. “Spark,” Cage says. “You’d best come down to the control center, Mate.”

  “On my way.”

  Forcing myself not to think about anything else, I make my way to command central, where Cage is waiting with Arrah, Dahlia, Dru, Rios, and a team of techs.

  I approach the monitors they’re all staring at. “What’s up?”

  “Looks like some kind of virus has infected the systems,” Arrah says.

  “Everything’s shutting down,” Dru continues. “Your Nexus pals aren’t sure what’s triggered it. They’re investigating the servers now.”

  There’s something very familiar about the unintelligible code displayed on the screens.

  I know this code. It’s a failsafe.

  A failsafe I built into the system, so very long ago.

  Focusing on the monitors, I punch in commands on the keyboard. “Don’t worry, I think I know what’s wrong.” In seconds, the systems start coming back online.

  “How did you do that?” Rios asks, his question laced with suspicion.

  I shake my head. “I’ve been here longer than you. I’ve had more time to study their systems.”

  There’s a series of loud bleeps. “What’s happening now?” Dahlia asks.

  Data is rapidly streaming on every single monitor creating a strobe effect. I recognize glimpses of silver, as well as a map displaying a myriad of locations, all connected to Nexus Prime.

  Breck and Saffron burst into the control center. “Someone’s accessing the servers, downloading and deleting files,” Breck cries.

  The screens go black, followed by static, and then a face appears on every single one of the monitors.

  Cassius Thorn.

  “Greetings from the Thorn Republic,” he says with a smile. “I must say I was rather dismayed at the less than hospitable welcome my ships received upon entering your airspace. Unfortunately, that’s an action that will have consequences.”

  His face fills me with rage. “What do you want, Cassius?”

  “Funny it should be you that asks, Lucian. I actually would like to inform your friends of the traitors in their midst.”

  “What traitors?” Rios barks.

  Cassius licks his lips. “At this very moment, your former ally turned Flesher conspirator, Digory Tycho is hidden in Nexus, harbored here by the one you call Lucian Spark.”

  “Tycho’s here?” Cage asks, his eyes fill with shock and accusation.

  “Yes,” I say. “But I can explain everything.”

  “Go ahead then,” Cassius cuts in. “Tell them how you knowingly used Tycho to access your memories so he would bring you here to obtain this place’s secrets all for yourself. Fortunately, the nanotech inside Tycho allowed me to track him here and stop you before you could betray your friends.”

  Arrah grips my arm. “Betray your friends? What the hell is he talking about, Spark?”

  Cassius shakes his head. “And therein lies the heart of the betrayal. You all know him as Lucian Spark. That’s just not the case.”

  I push past Arrah to stare at the main screen head on. “Cassius, don’t do this. You said you wouldn’t.” I realize as the words escape from my throat how incriminating they must sound to the others.

  But Cassius won’t be deterred. “All this time the resistance hasn’t realized that they’ve been harboring their greatest enemy right u
nder their noses. An enemy that makes a mockery of your entire movement and will destroy you all.”

  Rios pushes me out of the way and approaches the main monitor. “We’re listening.”

  Cassius leans into the screen. “Lucian Spark is Queran Embers, founder of the very Establishment you’ve been fighting. The information he just transmitted was the classified locations of the other installations in the Nexus, as well as the coordinates for an arsenal of nuclear warheads.”

  “Liar! I haven’t transmitted anything. You’re trying to set me up.” My heart’s pounding like it’s about to explode.

  Sighs and chuckles erupt. Even Rios shakes his head. “It appears that you’ve lost your mind, Thorn.”

  Cassius smiles. “I’m sure once you’ve seen the evidence you won’t doubt my sanity, General.”

  For the next few agonizing minutes, the screens fill with details of the Sowing experiments, including the history of Queran Embers, complete with photos of his youth. The resemblance is undeniable.

  When it’s over, not a sound can be heard. Rios turns to Saffron and Breck. “Is this possible?”

  Breck looks at me gravely. She thinks I betrayed them, transferred the Nexus files to Cassius. She turns back to Rios. “Yes. It is.”

  The look of shock and horror on my friends’ faces is unbearable.

  Cage takes a step closer. “Is it true? Are you really bloody Queran Embers?”

  After an eternity I can only say one word. “Yes.”

  Rios draws his weapon. “Take him into custody.”

  An explosion rocks the control center, knocking everyone off their feet. Beams come crashing down, smashing into smoking computer banks. Cassius’s face disappears. The lights flicker off, replaced by the swirling red of emergency strobes. Through the grit and smoke, I make out Digory standing at the level above, another grenade held in his fist. He disappears into the shadows.

  Was he the one that set me up and transmitted those files? Is he still working with Cassius? Or did he just give me a chance to escape? As everyone stirs in the chaos, I crawl through a broken duct, into a side hallway. Rising on shaky legs, I sprint through a maze of corridors, ignoring the shouts. My former comrades are already hot on my tail. But they don’t know this place like I do.

  After all, I helped design it.

  Attention! Rios’s voice blares through the coms. Lucian Spark is wanted for treason and should be taken into custody by any means necessary for interrogation. Repeat. Apprehend Lucian Spark at all cost for interrogation!

  They’ve all turned against me. Just like before. But I don’t need them anymore.

  I’m just about to access a hidden elevator to the surface when someone dashes out from the shadows.

  It’s Cole.

  “Here,” he says, throwing me a small, silver box. “You’ll need this.”

  Our eyes connect for one moment. Then he runs away, and I dash inside the elevator which whisks me to a hidden hangar containing my transportation out of this mess.

  As the resistance pilots scramble to their ships, I’m already up and away from Nexus Prime, speeding into the darkening skies.

  An enemy of the Thorn Republic, the Flesher regime, and the Resistance, with nowhere to hide.

  PART III

  DESTINIES

  TWENTY-SIX

  Just like I was able to pilot the drones by siphoning Queran’s memories, I again tap into that same dark well, combining that arcane knowledge with my own piloting skills to navigate the systems of this antique heap. According to the gauges, I have just enough fuel left. The same can’t be said of my spirits. That’s okay. I just need to focus on one, final task.

  I bite my lower lip. This whole odyssey began back in the Parish, with me purposely breaking curfew in order to get caught by Imps and taken into the presence of my once trusted soul mate, Cassius Thorn.

  And now, after all that’s happened, here I am completing the cycle that changed my life forever, piloting this piece of junk into Thorn airspace, in hopes of getting captured and taken before Cassius one last time.

  Ironically, Cassius is the only one left I can turn to. The resistance will never trust me again, no matter what I say. And my friends—those terrible expressions on their faces—I’ve lost them forever, too.

  All I have left now are memories. The memories of another lifetime. Where once I fought them, deluding myself that they weren’t part of me, I embrace them now, peeling away the last layers that separate Lucian Spark from the ghosts of the past.

  Every bit of pain, jealousy, and betrayal I experienced as Queran churns through me, filling the numbness and empty void that was once Lucian Spark. I know why Queran—why I—did what I did. That obsessive quest for power all makes sense. It’s all so freeing. I don’t have to rely on anyone else ever again or beg for their approval. Nor am I emotionally vulnerable to people that don’t have my best interests at heart. Everyone who’s ever hurt me will pay the price.

  Beginning with Cassius Thorn.

  He’s made a big mistake by awakening me at last.

  Whatever time I have left will be spent on utterly destroying him and his republic, including his underlings, Delvecchio and the others. And when I’m finished with them I’ll turn my vengeance on—

  A barrage of images and feelings makes my head spin. Cole’s face. Digory’s. Then Cage, Arrah, Dru, Dahlia, Corin—

  The headache’s intense. Once again, warm blood oozes from my nostrils and seeps between my lips. I savor the coppery taste. It conjures flashes of gleaming silver.

  Missiles.

  The ones I ordered to be deployed against my enemies.

  The ones I will deploy again and again, until there’s no one left to oppose me.

  No one left to hurt me.

  A sensor bleeps.

  Unidentified ships approaching, the computer nav’s crackly voice announces.

  On the scanners, a squad of Thorn Republic cruisers zooms my way. Instead of firing, they pull back, disappearing into the horizon.

  “Looks like you’re waiting for me,” I mutter.

  The Parish looms ahead. The place I once called home.

  The place where it all ends.

  With no one to stop me, I maneuver the ship past the familiar smoke stacks of the Industrial Borough, which cough up puffs of blackness like dying lungs rasping their final breaths.

  Swerving past the Dome of the Citadel, I soar over the rubble of my former neighborhood, flying over the sewage treatment centers, steering the craft over the cemetery and woods. I finally set down by the banks of Fortune’s River.

  The ship’s engines sputter and die.

  Fuel’s almost gone. But that doesn’t matter.

  I’ll never be leaving here again.

  Leaning back in my seat, I take a deep breath and catch sight of something forgotten in the co-pilot’s seat.

  It’s the small, silver box that Cole tossed me before I escaped. Grabbing it, I pop the lid open and stare down at its contents.

  A black glove, along with a tiny case of clear lenses. Corin’s device. What did he call it? An Opticom? The one the resistance planned on using during their next mission.

  I’m about to close the lid, but I can’t quite bring myself to do it. Instead, I slip the glove onto my right hand and insert the lenses over my eyes.

  Could it possibly be functional?

  I press the tip of my index finger against the thumb.

  A small rectangular window opens in the lower right corner of my field of vision. It’s completely disorienting and uncomfortable at first. My eyes flit from side to side, up and down. The image retains its relativity and aspect ratio.

  “—once we get through the access tunnels underground and emerge from this duct right into the main server room.”

  It’s Cage’s voice, even though I’m seeing images of Arrah, Dru, Dahlia, and a few other members of my former squad standing at attention, including Rios. This must be Cage’s Opticom unit, feeding me footage from his
own cam.

  Rios pops in a fresh ammo cartridge. “Is everything set with your contacts, Private Ryland?”

  Drusilla zips her pack closed. “My Worm contacts will meet up with us at the rendezvous point and supply us with the proper I.D.s and codes to gain access, Sir.”

  “Are you sure we can trust them, Dru?” Dahlia asks.

  “They have no love for the Thorn Republic, I can tell you that. Besides, with the Culling on ice, they’ve learned to adapt their skills from assuming Incentive identities to infiltrating government facilities quite nicely.”

  Arrah’s face is rigid. “How much of a window do we have to introduce the virus into their computer network before they pick up our scent?”

  “Not much,” Cage continues. “But we only need a few minutes to compromise their entire defense grid.”

  When I press my third finger into my thumb, the view point changes. Cage’s face fills the box in my field of vision now. “The moment the Thorn fleet’s systems are infected, our own ships will begin bombardment of the Citadel, while our ground troops strike from these strategic locations.”

  As Cage points out these areas on a holo map, I find that if I roll my third finger up and down my thumb, the image zooms in and out, autofocusing. It’s almost better than actually being there.

  The image pans right, then left. The user must be shifting his or her head. I’m able to see the others and deduce that the third finger must control the feed for Arrah’s unit.

  My ring finger presses against my thumb, changing the channel again.

  “So it looks like this entire plan hinges on our little team here.” Dahlia’s voice. Her camera pans the team’s faces. So Cage’s com is the index finger, Arrah’s is the third finger, and Dahlia’s unit is controlled by the ring finger. It takes me a few moments, but in no time I develop a rhythm of tapping and rolling my fingers against my thumb which allows me to follow all their interactions, as if I were still a part of their group, instead of the outsider I’ve become.

  Dru squeezes Arrah’s hand. “Time to get this show going.”