The Gender End

Home > Fantasy > The Gender End > Page 22
The Gender End Page 22

by Bella Forrest


  I cursed and leaned forward. “What could he possibly be thinking?” I asked no one in particular. The crown had never before allied with the Porteque gang—even the king wasn’t crazy enough to support those kidnapping, brainwashing thieves. If Maxen had stooped to using Patrus’ most scum-of-the-earth faction, he was more desperate than any of us had given him credit for.

  A voice at the door surprised me with an answer to my rhetorical question. “Why should we care?” I blinked in surprise, turning and seeing Mags, her hair sticking every which way and her uniform disheveled, as though she’d just rolled out of bed and come down here. She stalked through the doorway. “Sorry I didn’t report sooner,” she said, “but I didn’t want to interrupt the briefing. Anyway, the king’s got what—five men with him? He’s not exactly a fighting force. I mean, the heloship is big, but we’ve got eleven more. He’s probably just running while he can, before he gets ousted and has to face the people on the street. He doesn’t have a lot of loyal subjects left.”

  I frowned. A voice in me wanted her to be right, but my gut was telling me Maxen had a plan. He was a coward, and if there was one thing cowards did best, it was lash out blindly when pushed into a corner. But there wasn’t much we could do, so we would just have to wait and see.

  It seemed the king wasn’t keen on waiting: his move came much sooner than any of us could have anticipated, only two hours later. The group of us had had breakfast and too much coffee by then and were deep into discussions about our next move as sunlight grew steadily outside. Drew and Logan had joined us, one coming back from his patrol duties, one from his rest hours—so we were all there when Thomas’ handheld made a horrible noise that none of us had heard before.

  “What the hell is that?” Logan demanded, slopping coffee everywhere as Thomas stared intently at the screen until the sound shut off.

  “It’s the default emergency notification sound from my program for broadcasting to handhelds,” Thomas said, his voice going even flatter than usual as he turned the screen around to show us. King Maxen’s name was flashing on it. Thomas stood up and moved over to the room’s large viewing screen, jacking in the handheld and turning on the screen.

  Instantly an image of Maxen’s face filled the screen, the cockpit of the heloship he’d stolen behind him.

  “Well, at least I know my program works,” said Thomas ruefully, producing another handheld from his pocket and pulling up a screen full of coding. “He must be using the network I set up.”

  The king’s voice sounded out loud in the room—just when we’d thought we would finally stop hearing it in these rooms—and I could see all of us give a collective shudder.

  “My fellow Patrians. I know there has been… some unhappiness with me as of late, and I can’t blame you. I have failed you, my people. I failed to see the threat that was Matrus, just like I failed to be there to fight for you when they invaded.

  “But I am bound to you through a sacred oath, to serve and protect you, always, and while I have failed at that in the past, I am willing to step up and do it now. My people, we worry about all the things we don’t have, the things that at any moment could fail us. Water, food, fuel, power… stability. Well, even as we struggle to rebuild, to bury the dead, Queen Elena of Matrus, the architect of our woes, continues her assault… and now she has resorted to using the mutated freaks that are the fruit of a very tainted womb.” He turned, looking to one side, clearly mouthing the words “Switch cameras” to someone off screen.

  A second later, the image of a dirt road from overhead appeared on the screen, a formation of black-clad figures marching along the road, the green of the night vision making them appear sinister, menacing, downright evil.

  “Viggo, those are the—”

  “I know,” I said softly to Violet, and she leaned toward me in her chair, her hand reaching for mine. I held it tight, the sense that something terrible was about to happen looming over me, the accompanying queasy feeling coming from a gut knowledge that I had no way of stopping this.

  I realized why I thought that a moment later. “That night vision—this video is from at least a few hours ago,” I said to the group.

  Violet nodded next to me, instantly comprehending what I meant. “Thomas, can you kill the transmission? I think we’ve seen enough.”

  The small man blinked, and then his fingers went flying, as Maxen’s voice droned on over the video. “As you can see, she’s sent some of the very same freaks she tried to turn us into only a few days ago. I was notified of her plans by several informants—the True Sons of Patrus—led by this man, Peter White.” I narrowed my eyes, and I heard Violet gasp as the camera changed, and we both recognized Peter. He was a leader in the Porteque gang, and we’d encountered him more than once. Probably the leader, now that most of them were dead and gone.

  Peter smiled—a charming smile that showed dimples—but the guileless expression was tainted in my mind by the knowledge of what kind of man he really was. There was only the briefest picture of him, and then the view came back to the boys marching, the camera moving in a slow circle around them as Peter’s voice presided over the footage.

  “Thank you, King Maxen. As you can see, these creatures are well within our borders, an hour or two outside of town, heading for you even now. We’ve been watching them since last night, and their pace is relentless. They don’t seem to need to stop to eat or drink or even to sleep. Luckily, our king has provided us with the weapon we need to stop them.”

  Violet’s face was rapidly turning from worried to downright sick. “The boys have been in the country for the whole night?” she murmured. “Why didn’t we know? We could have—We could have changed this—”

  “We don’t have enough people or equipment to monitor the whole country, Violet,” Ms. Dale said, her voice full of regret. “We’d been concentrating on the city… and on you being gone…”

  “We missed the country entirely,” Mags breathed, finishing the thought. All of us stared at the video, transfixed, and the feeling that something horrible was happening grew in my gut like the anticipation of being punched.

  The view changed. It was still aerial, but two heavy machine gun muzzles jutted out into the top of the screen, angled toward the enhanced boys in black. Before I could say or do anything—even cry out in horror—the muzzles began to spin, and then the muffled noise of gunfire erupted through the speakers as bullets began to tear through the ranks. Some of them started running, fast, but the guns followed them until they were all mowed down. Tracking them was clearly a simple task thanks to the night-vision camera.

  I looked away for a moment, my stomach churning as a wave of fury seized me, forcing me to ball my free hand into a fist. Those boys were innocent—victims, even—and he had butchered them. Maxen’s voice started up again, carrying with it a deep and resolute promise with sincerity that made me want to put my fist through something.

  “My people, I will keep you safe from these creatures. I will keep you safe from Queen Elena. Even now, my team and I are planning an incursion into Matrus. The mission will be dangerous and full of peril, but if I am successful, I will bring down Queen Elena and the tyrannical government of Matrus, securing our people’s future. Patrus is in a difficult place now, but soon we—”

  The sound stopped midsentence, and then the screen clicked off. Thomas looked up, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and I had no doubt that even though he didn’t show much else, the video had affected him too.

  “That took longer than it should have,” he whispered, wiping sweat off his forehead. “Of course, I didn’t expect to be hacking into my own program using a remote terminal on a really awful connection… That was certainly difficult, and…”

  “You don’t have to defend yourself, Thomas,” Owen said softly, interrupting the small man’s rapidly devolving babble. “You did the best you could.” I looked over to see Owen staring at the screen, a dark fury overshadowing everything else on his face.

  “How effect
ive is that going to be?” I asked. “I mean, not everyone has handhelds, so surely…”

  “We gave them handhelds, Viggo,” Ms. Dale said after a moment, her mouth thinning. “We tried to hand out one to each group or family. Thomas was working on that mass broadcasting program, and it was supposed to be a way to notify everyone of an emergency.”

  “I changed my mind,” Mags announced grimly. “We have to hunt him down. He’s going to be a threat to what we’re trying to accomplish.”

  “I agree with Mags,” Drew said. “In fact, I don’t even understand why he was allowed to roam free in the first place.”

  “We couldn’t have held him prisoner,” Ms. Dale said. “He’s a terrible person, but he isn’t a criminal. The only reason we took him was to keep him safe from Elena, because his death would help solidify her control, however she decided to play it.”

  “He just murdered a dozen or so of the boys,” Violet grated out. “He is a criminal, and he deserves to die for what he just did.”

  “Unfortunately, the rest of the country might not see it that way,” Henrik said gently but soberly, his tone delivering the terrible truth. “All they’ll see is enemy soldiers invading their country. To some of them, even knowing that the boys are being controlled, it will seem justifiable as self-defense.”

  Violet looked away, then up at me, the wounds in her heart plain in those storm-gray eyes. I squeezed her hand, trying to reassure her that at least I felt her pain and understood it. Like me, Violet felt a responsibility to keep the boys safe. This was made harder by the fact that as long as they were under Elena’s control through the Benuxupane, they were a threat to us, and to Patrus as well. But Maxen’s way was beyond wrong—it was cowardly. And unlike most of the populace, he didn’t have the excuse of ignorance.

  The silence spread out over the table for a second, and then Henrik sighed, the sound telling us he was about to let out another uncomfortable truth. “We can’t waste time trying to hunt him down,” he announced grimly. “The biggest threat to us is Elena, and now, it’s a race to see who gets to her first.”

  “Who cares?” Drew spat. “I hope they kill each other.”

  Mags gave him a warning look and leaned forward, running a hand through the dark mass of her hair. “Why does it matter who gets to her first?”

  It was Morgan who answered, her voice soft as she comprehended the situation. “If we want to get the Matrian government to accept the coup we’ve been planning, then Elena has to be taken alive,” she said. “She has to stand trial for what she did, or else… Well, it would look really convenient if she were assassinated, and then all of this information came out accusing her of being a war criminal. The leaders might not be willing to accept it.”

  “That could mean a civil war in Matrus, which is something Patrus cannot afford,” Henrik added. “We’re already destabilized, with little to no supplies to carry us all the way through winter. We need Matrus strong, because frankly, we’re going to have to rely on Matrian aid to rebuild. It’s a hard fact, but it’s true.”

  “Also, if he manages to kill Elena, you know Maxen is going to make a play for the throne,” Amber added. “And the people here are scared and want stability. If they found out he actually came through and killed her, they’d rally around him in a heartbeat.”

  Mags took that in, and then shook her head. “I’m still for hunting him down here. He’d be mad to try to go after Elena with only a handful of men. The palace is heavily guarded, and even we’ve had a hard time getting anything on it…”

  Thomas cleared his throat and shuffled closer to the table. “One of the things they stole from me was a blueprint we recovered from one of the government buildings. It’s a map—likely made by a Patrian spy—that details a series of caves under the Matrian palace. The report theorized they were designed to be some sort of fallout shelter. There are several entrances and exits into the castle, and, most importantly, one exit about a kilometer away from the palace, in a wooded area.”

  Mags fell quiet, fiddling with her sling, and then looked at Henrik. “You’re in charge,” she said softly, and Henrik nodded.

  “We need to maintain order here, and release a statement of our own to the people. I’ll let Ms. Dale and Thomas brainstorm something up. Viggo, Violet, we’re gonna have to step up your mission. I don’t want to take any chances—we need you out of here in case he is stupid enough to try to come back and claim this place first. We don’t want the mission to fail because you were caught up in a firefight here.”

  “We need to question all the guards who were on duty when he escaped,” Ms. Dale added. “I need to find out if anyone who wanted to join us is actually associated with the Porteque gang. I wouldn’t put it past them to try some espionage.”

  “How are you going to do that?” asked Logan, and Ms. Dale met his gaze, and forced a smile onto her lips. Logan seemed to need no more information from her. “Right. So what should the ones not going into Matrus do?”

  “We need to heighten patrols,” said Mags. “If there’s a Porteque element still around, we’ll need to patrol the streets more, and use two heloships instead of one as support. What happened last night showed us how little it takes to overwhelm our patrols.”

  “We’ll also need to increase guards on this compound,” Ms. Dale added. “Even consider moving to another building in another part of town.”

  “There’s not really another good place to store and hide eleven heloships,” Henrik pointed out, and Ms. Dale grimaced and then nodded in agreement. “We’ll have to stay here for now, but I think we’ll be fine. Maxen is desperate to win back the support of the people, which means he won’t start with us… He’ll just make us obsolete once we lose their support.”

  “If he succeeds,” Mags amended, unnecessarily. “There’s no guarantee of that. I’ll go get started on the patrols.”

  She stood up and left, Drew by her side, and Logan a few steps behind—although he lingered for a few moments.

  Ms. Dale watched them go, arching an eyebrow. “So I’ve got to start questioning the guards, provided the meeting is over?”

  “It apparently is,” Henrik grumbled, and then nodded. “No, it is. That girl knows when it’s time to exit and get to work. Viggo, Violet—Thomas is going to explain to you the plan for how to get into Matrus. Everyone else was briefed last night after you two… disappeared.” To Henrik’s credit, the knowing pause in the sentence was barely noticeable, but I still saw Violet flush, and squeezed her hand again. “Afterward, send me a finalized list of what you’ll need, and I’ll make sure it’s on your bird and waiting for you. All right, everyone. Let’s get to work.”

  Henrik scooped up the papers in front of him and stood up, and immediately everyone leapt into motion—except for Violet, Thomas, and me. Within seconds, the conference room was empty, and Thomas was looking at us, a wide smile on his face.

  “I don’t normally brag, but I’m pretty proud of this plan,” he said, and I found that his enthusiasm was chasing away just a tiny bit of the anger and pain Maxen’s actions had stirred up.

  “Then tell us,” I said, leaning forward, ready to finally put an end to this mess, once and for all.

  OceanofPDF.com

  23

  OceanofPDF.com

  VIOLET

  Viggo tugged the straps tighter across my chest, making sure I was fully strapped in, and I exhaled nervously. “Why are we doing this again?”

  It had to be the fifth time I’d asked the question, but to Viggo’s credit, he didn’t laugh at me. “Because we have to,” he said simply, pulling the strap to tighten it until it was snug against my shoulder.

  I looked around the room, needing something to focus on. My eyes drifted over to Tim, and he gave me a thumbs-up. It took me a moment to conjure up a reassuring smile for him, but I managed.

  “I think I need you to explain why one more time,” I breathed, and the heloship shuddered underneath me, making me grab onto the straps. For the hundredth
time, I checked the area under my seat where I’d tied down my bag, reaching out to pat its solid weight. It was loaded down with all my gear and the precious silver egg I was going to have to carry around with me, I hoped, just one last time.

  “C’mon, Violet,” Amber said over her shoulder, and I looked past Viggo to where she sat at the controls. “You’ve been flying with me dozens of times.”

  “Yeah… It’s not you, Amber,” I said, trying not to panic as the heloship jerked and shuddered again. “It’s this plan. Just the first part, really…”

  “The machines I saw when I was scouting with the drone are a design of Mr. Ashabee’s,” Thomas reminded me, his fingers flying over his handheld. He was also strapped in to a hard seat on the side of the ship, but the difference was… he looked indifferent. “It’s a defense mechanism that prevents unauthorized ships from traveling into Matrus, and I have to say, it’s quite well made. It was designed to pick up on the heat and vibrations of a heloship, and then automatically fire missiles at it—no warning. In order to defeat that system, we have to make it seem like the ship isn’t there. No vibrations, no heat. The only way to do that is if the engines are completely cut off.”

  “There’s a bit more turbulence coming. The air up here is getting thin,” Amber commented on the tail of Thomas’ statement, and he grunted.

  “It’s to be expected. We’re very high up. How are the thermals reading?”

  “Outside is…” She paused and whistled. “Negative seven degrees.”

  “Are we high enough up to, uh, drop?” I asked.

  “Don’t think about it,” Viggo murmured, swinging himself into the seat next to me and starting to hook himself in tightly as well. “Just hold my hand and remember to breathe.”

  I nodded and placed my hand on his thigh, trying to still the nervous way my breath was coming in and out of me. The cabin was definitely chilly, and even though I was bundled up, I could feel the cold trying to seep in. I knew heloships were designed to go high into the air—Amber had once explained to me that the cabin was pressurized and had an oxygen supply if necessary—but I didn’t like the way it just felt different up here.

 

‹ Prev