Sailing through the air, Jav watched the Loss Commander spin. It was mesmerizing. The stingers shone, sheathed in some kind of energy that made him light up like a tangle of whipping neon cord.
CINSAUT
LOSS HEAVY AIR DIVISION COMMANDER
Jav couldn’t communicate directly with the Lightning Gunners, but trusted that they wouldn’t target the Loss Commander—or him—while he was on the way or they were engaged. The Loss Commander came out of his spin, pausing briefly and looking like a dancer given over completely to his art despite his size and mass. Jav paused in the air some fifteen meters from him.
“That is a fine technique,” Jav said, “but I’ve seen through it. I am Jav Holson, First General of the Viscain Empire.”
“Cinsaut, Loss Commander, Heavy Air Division,” the other said in a calm, bassy voice. “Seeing through it doesn’t invalidate it. It’ll kill you just the same.
“Do you know art, Jav Holson?” Cinsaut said, throwing his head back and beginning to spin, to light up like a fiery pinwheel, rolling through the air.
“I believe I do.” Jav shot forward, using his keen spatial sense along with his supernormal speed to reach into the spin, to grip Cinsaut’s left upper arm with his right hand while swiping with a vicious left claw-hand up from under the left side of Cincaut’s chin. Jav’s strength, augmented by the sudden, jolting shift in momentum, sheared the Loss Commander’s head from his shoulders. The stress shattered the left clavicle, causing his torso to split. Blood erupted and rained down. Then Jav released his hold on the barely connected left arm, and the Loss Commander followed the wash of blood to the ground below.
• • •
Raus, still holding Sacy’s limp form in his arms, stared with awe and disgust at how easily Jav had dispatched the Heavy Air Division Commander. He swallowed hard, dwelling for some unknown reason of how things would proceed here on Loss. Loss? That was strange. For the first time, he couldn’t think of an acquisition by its number. He shrugged these thoughts off, and addressed the dead woman in his arms.
“Better if you’d come of your own volition, but today, I need not be picky.”
Electricity flickered in motes and flecks of light around them. Her body jumped in his arms, setting her head to roll upon its slack neck until finally righting itself. She was his. Or her body was.
Jav lighted upon the raised platform upon Gran Mal’s back, joining Scanlan there.
“Report,” Jav said.
“All courtyard wall emplacements active and functioning within expected parameters. The ten factories are still expanding, but already producing. The amount of available raw materials is expediting production beyond initial estimates. None have as yet been specifically targeted, though that appears to be changing now. Two facilities have been the recipients of collateral damage. Still, far better than we anticipated, and along with the increased production from the other facilities, we will be operating at one hundred percent in less than forty-eight hours.”
Jav nodded. “Icsain,” he said through his Artifact. “Finish the naval troops, return to the city proper to aid with clean-up efforts.
“Raus, continue to take as many troops as you’re able for future use.”
“There are still quite a few fliers,” Scanlan said.
“Yes,” Jav said, staring up at the scattered Light and Heavy Air Division soldiers. The latter were targeting Viscain troops on the ground with their wrist stingers and the Palace with their shoulder stingers. The former engaged ground forces exclusively. Some had the vision to begin targeting Scanlan’s factories, but only the Heavy Air soldiers met with any success.
Infiltration Division troops remained, and could use their wings as Duras could, but in a manner slightly different and far less potent. Several had gathered around a factory and upset the intricate workings of Scanlan’s machines there, but pausing to do this made them exceedingly vulnerable to skeleton troops, who were unfazed by the vibratory assault.
Soon Scanlan’s factories developed their own defenses, though, and not even the Heavy Air Division could make effective attack runs on them. Motion sensitive energy projectors, modeled after the devastating Farmington hand weapons, kept the factories safe from harm while they continued their automated growth.
“Raus, Icsain, continue to oversee troop activity. Personal engagement is discretionary. Scanlan will provide a timeline for when we can pull out and allow his troops to secure and patrol the city.”
Jav was gone in an instant to return to Gran Mid, his sudden absence giving Scanlan a bit of a start.
10,923.021.2000
Planet 1612 (Loss)
Root Palace (Aurinel Coast)
“In the initial skirmish,” Witchlan said from his usual place in the war room, “it looks as though we’ve accounted for nearly half of this planet’s active military force. However, the two largest bodies yet remain: the Light and Heavy Land Divisions. The Light Division is en route to us even now, but we cannot seem to locate the Heavy Division. There may be other forces we were not able to identify prior to planetfall, but groups of such size are difficult to conceal, so we are not overly concerned, especially in light of your performance yesterday. Congratulations Generals. You have put yourselves and your colleagues one step closer to retirement,” he said, glancing now to Ban Kapler and Spaier Waice, “or promotion.
“For what it’s worth, General Holson has deduced that our foes, these Loss Commanders, are powered by what we are assuming are organic gyroscopes. General Scanlan has some theories on these, and if you’re interested, you can pose your questions to him when we are finished here.
“Now, on to future business. We will not wait for the rest of the local armies to come to us. Since planetfall, we have not been able to identify our ultimate target with any of our instruments. We know the general direction of the tower which must house The Place with Many Doors, as we were able to observe it from space, but now there seems to be some interference that prevents all observation.
“Essentially, this changes nothing. As stated, we will advance. The Palace will be secure in another fourteen hours. Once security measures are complete, First General Holson, you will be sent by Tether Launch along with materials to establish our extreme perimeter and front line twelve hundred kilometers due west. General Kapler, you will be sent likewise to establish our secondary line eight hundred kilometers out. General Icsain, you and your army will form our tertiary line four hundred kilometers out.
“Since we cannot discern the exact location of the tower, General Holson, you must find it for us. Test firings of the Tether Launch system have shown that the same interference which prohibits our detection equipment prohibits Tether Launch placement beyond the planned delivery point of your bunker. Using our pre-landing imagery, it looks as though you will be between fifty and a hundred kilometers from your target.”
“That’s a lot of ground,” Jav said.
Witchlan shrugged, turned his attention to the Titan squad members.
Waice flinched unconsciously at this dismissal.
“Once again, and you have our apologies,” Witchlan said, “the Titan Squad will remain in reserve. This time, however, with the majority of our forces away from the Palace, your role as a precaution becomes far more important. First Specialist Vays, gentlemen, lady, please ensure that you do not underestimate the gravity of being prepared, ready at a moment’s notice.”
“Yes, minister,” they said mostly together. Waice’s reply alone was delayed. He and Jav locked eyes for a moment and a chill ran up and down Waice’s spine. Waice wanted to communicate with him, could do so privately via Artifact right here in the war room with everyone ignorant of the content of their conversation, but it was too soon. But if it was too soon, if Holson were entirely ignorant of what was planned for him, why did he stare at Waice with such intensity? Waice couldn’t stand it and looked away, trying to focus on Witchlan again.
Witchlan continued. “Technicians are busy in the Tether Launch bay
s preparing materials for the perimeter-establishing forays. General Scanlan?”
“Thank you, minister,” Scanlan said. “Each package sent along with you, once activated upon arrival, will set about to create a fortified bunker. Central to these bunkers will be a heavy-capacity industrial jump deck, designed for troop and cargo transport. Built-in protocols will communicate with the Palace, requesting additional materials through an automated handshake system to finalize the bunker’s completion. Total construction should take twenty-two hours. Each of you will be sent with a thousand of your troops, but beyond that you must be able to make use of existing resources to defend yourself and your bunker, for several hours at least. Once completed, the bunkers will, of course, be jump capable, have direct communication links with the Palace, and will be equipped with ‘smart’ Farmington projectors.”
“Grans?” Jav said.
Scanlan nodded. “Special accommodations have been incorporated into the plans of your bunkers. Gran transport should be possible five hours into production. Limited troop transport should also be possible.”
“Now,” Witchlan said, “if there’s nothing left, we believe that General Scanlan’s provisions, even at seventy percent, have made it so that those of you who are weary may get some rest. Tether Launch is scheduled for tomorrow at 1800.
“Titan Squad members, though you are not required to be on active vigil, you will be responsible for Palace security should General Scanlan’s machines prove insufficient while they strive towards maturity.
“That is all.”
10,923.022.1900
Planet 1612 (Loss)
Root Palace (Aurinel Coast)
Salton Stoakes, clad in soft, charcoal gray clothing, knelt upon one knee in the Emperor’s chamber. Above and before him, the pale, fleshy gourd spanned four meters across, its carved features revealing the flickering firelight within.
“Salton Stoakes,” the Emperor whispered thunder. “Do you know why I summoned you here?”
“For my final assignment, Lord Emperor.”
Sputtering laughter filled the chamber. “That you survived our previous acquisition is a testament to both your resourcefulness and your good fortune. It pleases me to be able to make good on the terms of our agreement. You have been an invaluable asset to the Empire.
“No, Salton Stoakes. Your work is done. I made you wait out transit and planetfall only as a precaution, only as insurance against the impossible chance that The Place with Many Doors would not be here. But we have rooted here on Planet 1612 and all that you could do, you have done prior to arrival.
“Elements have been put in place to isolate and secure The Place with Many Doors. What lies ahead will require more than mere stealth and an assassin’s blade. Besides, you cannot hide the fact that your heart is no longer suited to such work, at least not with regard to the intended subject. I must confess disappointment, but we bargained in good faith, you and I.
“Rise and step forward. For what is to be done to you requires physical contact. Only bathing in the fires of my true being can cleanse the years from you.
“Yes, Lord Emperor.”
Stoakes did as he was told and stopped at the Emperor’s prompting.
The triangle cuts forming the Emperor’s eyes narrowed, the jagged-gash mouth opened wide and spectral flames shot forth like vomit, engulfing Stoakes.
Stoakes reacted as if being struck by a gust of powerful wind, but showed no signs of distress. Indeed, as the wrinkles melted away, as his hair darkened to glossy black, he regarded his hands within the glow of the fire, watching the age spots vanish before his eyes. The flames ceased, were once again confined to within the Emperor. Stoakes ran his fingers through his hair, noting the subtle change in texture. He produced the Suicide Knife and drank in his own reflection, seeing the truth of the Emperor’s word in the face of an eighteen-year-old boy. His skin was a porcelain white, very nearly the match of his lover, Ana Tain, except for her sprays of light freckles.
“Thank you, Lord Emperor,” Stoakes said, nearly out of breath with disbelief, awe, and appreciation.
“Payment is made, but there remains a condition.”
“Lord Emperor?”
“Once again, you are retired, free to do as you will anywhere in the Empire, but you mustn’t interfere in anything that comes to pass here on Planet 1612.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It is a simple condition. You have but to uphold it. You have grown soft, Salton Stoakes. I know you regret what you have done so many times in the name of our bargain. You mustn’t let your freedom and your regret conspire to cause you to do something that will jeopardize the Empire’s future.”
“Of course not, Lord Emperor.”
“You acknowledge the condition, which brings our business to a close. You may continue to utilize your quarters here within the Palace or take up public accommodation with your Ana Tain. You are free to go, to do as you wish.
“That is all.”
• • •
Stoakes walked the route to Ana Tain’s quarters, not seeing anything. He couldn’t take his probing fingers from his face—his skin was so different from what it had been just twenty minutes ago. He’d left her thinking he wouldn’t see her again for a least a few days. It never occurred to him that he wouldn’t have to go, or if he went that he might not come back. A chill racked him at this last thought, but he smiled it away. What did it matter now? Wanting to surprise her, he knocked on Ana’s door rather than use the code he’d set for her.
When she opened the door she stood and stared, her mouth opening slightly, momentarily incapable of speech. She wore a simple white shift, only a shade away from her own perfect white skin. The pale freckles across her nose and cheeks stood out as she flushed. She swallowed and stepped from the threshold still holding the door and brushing the tips of her breasts against him. She appeared to be nervous, looked left then right down the corridor, searching for someone.
Stoakes broke into an involuntary grin that widened as the seconds ticked by.
“Mr. Stoakes?” she finally whispered uncertainly, her eyes still darting about before settling on his. “Where have you come from? Does your father know you’re here?”
His breath caught in his chest, a left-over mannerism from so long ago when he was mortal. His thoughts raced. He hadn’t expected to be made so young, but didn’t think that it would have upset his connection to Ana Tain. His appearance had changed, but she was supposed to be able to recognize him by scent, by touch, on a genetic level.
“Don’t you know me, Ana?” he said, whispering as she was, and taking hold of one of her hands.
“We’ve never met, but there can be no mistake: you must be his son.”
“No, Ana. It’s me,” he said.
She demurred coquettishly, her cheeks reddening further, but she didn’t back away, and he was acutely aware of her nipples, hard against him. “You’re trying to trick me,” she said. “What’s your name, young man?”
He wasn’t completely comfortable with her inability to recognize him—something she was coded to do—but he was too intrigued by the color in her cheeks to care at the moment.
“Let’s find out, shall we?” He said pushing her gently through the door.
“Oh,” she gasped, but didn’t otherwise protest.
He closed the door behind them.
• • •
She was on the bed, lying on her stomach with only a sheet half-covering her. She held her chin in her upraised hands and chewed on her lower lip while staring at him.
“That was very nice,” she said.
Stoakes, his back against a bank of pillows, smiled and ran his fingers through her red curls, noting again, as he looked down the length of his arm, how his myriad scars—many of which he’d received recently on Planet 1607—had abandoned him along with his years.
“But we can’t do it again. We shouldn’t have done it at all, you know.” She didn’t sound entirely convinced. “Your
father will be back in a few days,” she added.
Stoakes stared into her eyes and read all there was to read. He understood. She did recognize him, but on an unconscious level. Perhaps being cosmetically altered by the Emperor had somehow affected the criteria she used to identify him. It complicated things somewhat, but complications could be interesting and they could be fun.
“In a few days, you say?”
She nodded, her eyes big and questioning.
“Well, then, until he comes back, what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.”
He reached for her wrists and gently pulled her towards him. When she responded and moved forward, he shifted his hands, reached for her buttocks, and placed her on his lap, their eyes level, their noses touching.
“We really shouldn’t do this,” she said, eyes worrying.
“I know. Tell me if you want me to stop.”
• • •
He watched her while she slept now, thinking of all they could do together. Once the external jump decks were up and running, where would they go? What would they do? He’d taken a number of iterations of Ana Tain to his retirement world between acquisitions and assignments, but to settle there seemed anticlimactic, especially since she was essentially immortal and he was clothed in the illusion of youth.
They had some time before the decks would be operational, though they’d come online faster and faster ever since Planet 1401—when he came out of retirement—and there would certainly be more fighting. The Place with Many Doors was here, but it wasn’t theirs yet. And what had the Emperor meant about interference? Had he reached so far into Stoakes’s head to know that he as much as sympathized with Holson? Perhaps felt more for Holson now than Holson did for himself? And why not? He was responsible. Holson’s loss of everything resembling humanity was unequivocally Stoakes’s fault, and here he was basking in the spoils of making it so.
The Loss Queen (Approaching Infinity Book 5) Page 6