“Return to your bunk, now, soldier!” he barked.
“Yes, sir!”
I shut the door and practically flew down the hall, forgetting all about my helmet. I wasn’t going to need it anyway; my hopes of being picked for the Diving Fleet were dashed. Cease Lechatelierite would never be able to trust me, now.
Cease Lechatelierite
May twenty-fifth, six-fifty-five.
“Commander, they’re ready for you,” Colonel Austere’s voice came on the intercom in my quarters.
“Thank you, sir.”
Last night, the Trilateral Committee sent me a rather curtly-worded email reminding me that my new soldiers weren’t allowed to see my wheelchair, crutches, IVs or visual band. I had to be free of all physical aides whenever I appeared before my men. So, this morning, I dressed in layers, removed the band and the needles, and stood on unsteady feet. I could walk now, but not like a battle-ready soldier. Nurse Raef told me Dr. Calibre believed I’d make a full recovery by July. It was hard to believe.
That meant I had to train the Nurians without actually joining them in the water for over a month. I would act like a station-commander, giving orders via intercom, while my veterans worked with them in the sea. The academy told everyone this was a special, hands-off training method designed to cultivate their courage and independence. Right. Sure.
As I stretched my aching limbs, I wondered if all this effort to conceal my injuries was futile; one of the Nurians barged in on me while I was undressed in my quarters, last night.
I entered the gymnasium, where all two-hundred rookies were in full diving-suit and helmet, lined up according to number, standing at attention with their arms at their sides. I marched down the line, hands clasped behind my back. It took a lot of effort just to place one foot in front of the other without wobbling.
“Tomorrow morning, one-hundred-thirty of you will be on your way back to the academy,” I said in Nurian. Even I could hear how heavy my accent was. It stuck around no matter how much I practiced this stupid language. “And, seventy of you will come with me to Icicle. But, making it into the fleet isn’t your end goal. Beating the Conflagrians, defending the alliance from imperialism—those are your real objectives. For those whom I’ve selected, I have a warning for you: what you’ve faced in the last seven months is nothing. If you think you’ve seen a challenge yet, you’re sorely mistaken. I’m going to push you beyond the limits of your imagination. Because the Conflagrians sure as hell will.
“Once you’re part of my fleet, the concept of the self is dead. It’s not about you, or your rank, or your personal problems. Drop your baggage at the front door, divers. It’s all about them, the Conflagrians. It’s about what you can do to further us, the Nurro-Ichthyothian Diving Fleet. In my fleet, we always keep our eyes on the bigger picture. So, if you don’t think you’re up to it, you’re commanded to leave the room, now.” I stopped pacing at the center of the line, and no one dared to breathe. “If I call your number, please step forward, remaining at attention.”
I proceeded to recite seventy numbers. Each soldier I called took one, crisp step in my direction, showing neither excitement nor relief. As the list wore on, those who believed they wouldn’t get picked began to slump with disappointment. Which was proof enough they didn’t have what it took to serve in my fleet. My veterans could stand at attention through a snowstorm without so much as a shuffle, if so instructed. Once the list was complete, I dismissed the rejects to the barracks. Then, my chosen men moved closer together, forming a shorter line.
“Remove your helmets,” I said. “I want to look at the faces of my new comrades-in-arms.”
Seventy helmets swept off seventy heads in perfect unison.
“Congratulations,” I said firmly, walking up the line. “Welcome to the Diving Fleet, Nurians. You’ve proven yourselves worthy of the pain ahead of you.” I met each man’s eye, in turn. “You’ll need to have each other’s complete trust and respect. I guarantee, your life will be in the hands of someone standing here at one time or another, in the months and ages to come. Judging from your performances, I trust this won’t be a problem.” With that, I could already feel their allegiance and motivation stirring.
The last soldier in line was the small one, number eighty-seven.
He was a she. The first female diver in Ichthyothian military history. I looked at the girl’s delicate features, wild hair, blotchy skin and shocking eyes. She looked not a day older than fifteen. I recognized her as the one who walked into my quarters, last night—though all I could see at the time was a red and white blur. But, that wasn’t why I was staring. There was something else about her that set off alarms in my mind.
“Name, soldier?”
I was small, but she was smaller; I could tower over her. She stared unblinkingly back, though I could tell she was afraid.
“Scarlet July, sir.”
That’s when it clicked.
“You’re one of them,” I whispered, face inches from hers. In a flash, I had my weapon drawn and pressed against her red neck. Her laser-green eyes went wide. The tension in the air was thick.
I’d fought and killed too many mages in my lifetime not to be able to recognize one when it stared me in the face. I could see her unnaturally bright features. I could see her small muscles that wouldn’t be able to stand military life without magical fortification. Oh yes, she hid her aura well, but her concealment wasn’t absolute; I could feel a radical photon or two hover in the air around her. My doctors and comrades believed I had a sensitivity to the spectral web that was unusual for a Nordic. I didn’t understand why or how that was possible, but at times like these, I was glad for it.
“You may’ve tricked the others,” I spat, “but you’re a fool if you thought you could get past me.”
The Nurians began to break discipline a little now, staring and gaping. Their confused faces told me they didn’t see what I saw; Scarlet July looked like a normal girl to them. That didn’t exactly surprise me. None of them had ever seen a mage before her. They didn’t know what to look for. Sensing a concealed aura wasn’t really something that could be learned in a classroom.
I was in no condition to fight with anyone, but I didn’t have to. I had seventy trained soldiers with me in the room.
“Number seven, number twenty-five,” I called at random, “take her to the diffusion cell, now.”
In a flash, two of the men who’d been her trusting comrades-in-arms for the greater part of the age had her restrained with deadline and out the door. She didn’t use her magic against them or even say a word. She let them take her.
She’d managed to dupe the recruiters, her comrades and all her teachers. If she was clever enough to trick Colonel Austere for seven months, she could very possibly dupe anyone who interrogated her. Except me.
I dismissed everyone and returned to my quarters. After strapping on my visual band, sitting down in my wheelchair and re-attaching my IVs, I began to make my way to Scarlet July’s cell.
I was halfway down the hall when a white glove reached out and caught a handlebar.
“And, where do you think you’re going, looking like that?” came the voice of the Colonel.
I sighed through gritted teeth. I may’ve been the Leader of the Ichthyothian Resistance, but I supposed, in Austere’s eyes, I’d always be one of his little students.
“I have a prisoner in a diffusion cell,” I answered, coolly. “I think one of the Nurian recruits may be a spy.”
Austere raised an eyebrow. “And, you’re facing him like this?”
I just told him we’d been infiltrated, and that what he was concerned about? This could very well be the biggest security leak in Ichthyothian military history.
“I’d see her face much better with the band on.” Analyzing facial expressions—especially subtle eye movements—was critical in determining truthfulness.
Austere paused for a moment. “Her,” he breathed, suddenly stricken. “Not July?”
�
�Were there any other women in your class?” I retorted.
“But… she’s the best student I’ve ever seen. After you, of course. Could answer any question. Remembered everything. Top scores on all assignments and exams.”
“She’s a mage,” I spat. “And, after I extract all possible intel from her, I’m going to kill her.”
Austere, blue eyes wide, only nodded.
I rolled away.
“Commander!”
I halted. “Yes, sir?” I spoke through tight lips.
“You can keep your band on, but at least forgo the bags.”
I concentrated much better when hooked to the IV pain medications. I couldn’t afford to let anything detract from my focus, when interrogating the mage. There was a lot at stake here. I needed to be on my A-game. Besides…
“Sir, she already knows,” I said, quietly.
There was a tense pause. “Excuse me?”
“She already knows about my… condition.”
“Do you mean to say she has some sort of mind-reading magic?”
It was my turn to get impatient; he was wasting time.
“No, she walked in on me while I was in my quarters, last night.”
“You didn’t lock your door?”
“I did.”
More silence.
“Exactly. I don’t know what her source is or what her powers are, but I assure you, I will find out, and exactly how she’s used them against us,” I said.
Austere began another question, but I cut him off. “I’m sorry, sir, but I have an urgent duty to attend. Dismissed.”
The Colonel looked slapped. I’d never dismissed him like that before. He saluted stiffly and disappeared down the hall.
Scarlet July was bound, hand and foot, in a diffusion cell. Diffusion cells scrambled the electromagnetic frequencies of anyone inside, essentially rendering mages magicless. It was cutting-edge spectroscopy.
When I walked in, I saw no sign of a struggle. Scarlet July didn’t even glare back at me in hatred like so many of the POWs I’d dealt with before her. She kept her enormous green eyes on the table between us, face resigned.
So, this fire-savage was an actress.
“Scarlet July,” I snapped. She still didn’t lift her gaze.
I’d brought her enlistment forms, and her test results from both her branch placement last fall and her written finals from this past week. Of the two-hundred candidates, I was most impressed with number eighty-seven’s performance in the sea yesterday and wasn’t too surprised to discover that the class’s top, written-exam scores belonged to the same individual. It’d been a long time since I’d gotten this excited about a subordinate. I was eager to meet this soldier face-to-face. I couldn’t wait to see what I could do with ‘him.’
I never imagined our first meeting would be like this.
I pulled out ‘General Information 71D’ and placed it on the table before Scarlet.
“This says you were born in Alcove City,” I said in Nurian, studying her face. “Is this true?”
“No, sir,” she responded, in Ichthyothian.
POWs tended to call me a variety of names during an interrogation, but ‘sir’ usually wasn’t one of them. She was showing respect, as though I were still her commander. And, she was speaking Ichthyothian. She could tell from my accent I had difficulty with Nurian, so she was… trying to make it easier for me to question her…?
“Are you from the South Conflagrablaze Captive?” I barked in Nurian, refusing to submit to her lingual shift. Switching would be an admission I needed her help.
She hesitated.
“Yes or no?”
“Yes, sir, I was born in Conflagria,” she worded carefully, still in Ichthyothian.
“You lied on your enlistment forms,” I pressed.
“Yes, sir.”
She was offering no resistance. This was too easy.
“You lied on your enlistment forms with the goal of infiltrating the Nurro-Ichthyothian Diving Fleet to convey intel to the System.”
“No, sir!” she burst—in Nurian this time—as her face grew even redder. Her eyes shifted frantically across the table.
“Are you in contact with any other mages?”
“No, sir! I’m not a spy, Commander Lechatelierite. I’m not passing information to the enemy!” she piped, switching back to Ichthyothian.
She called Conflagria ‘the enemy.’ Interesting.
“Respond to me in Nurian. We aren’t playing language games,” I ordered, coldly. “Why are you here?”
“The same reason you are, sir. I want to fight the System.” She still wouldn’t look at me. “I have no loyalty to my homeland. None, whatsoever, to anybody there. I swear.”
I detached my IVs, emerged from my chair, removed my band and leaned over the table. I gripped her chin and tilted her head up, so her gaze would meet mine. Her jaw trembled in my hand. I fixed my eyes on hers for quite some time. She didn’t blink once. It was the longest I’d touched the bare skin of a mage without killing or destroying. I searched and searched, but couldn’t find a trace of malice in her large, glassy stare.
“Did you use magic at the academy?”
“Yes, sir,” she said, quietly. “But, never to hurt anyone, and never in a way that could benefit the System. I used it to help me study and perform. I have no special gift of communication or anything that’d allow me to contact anyone in Conflagria.”
“What is your source?”
“My hair,” she said, which didn’t surprise me, considering how thick and wiry it looked, “and my eyes.”
I froze. Was it possible the Multi-Source Enchant was sitting before me? Moreover, she wanted to offer her talents to my nation? Did the most powerful mage in history actually turn against her own people and hand herself to me? No. That’d be too good to be true.
The general Conflagrian population wasn’t aware of the war. Only the System and their military knew.
“How did you find out about the war?”
“I was deported to Nuria when I was ten. I lived there five ages before coming to the academy. I learned about the war last fall, like everyone else.” Her face burned; I could feel the heat on my fingertips.
There was something really fishy about that story. “You were deported?”
“Yes, sir, because of my eyes. The System didn’t know how to train me. The shortages came, and I was declared Useless—a waste of island resources.”
How very nice of her to define what a ‘Useless’ was, as if I wouldn’t already know. Moreover, the System didn’t deport Uselesses when times got rough. They killed them.
Scarlet answered my unvoiced question: “They tried to execute me, but couldn’t. I was the first one they couldn’t kill when they wanted to. So, they murdered my family and shipped me off to Nuria.” Her voice quivered.
It all became clear.
“The military is no place to seek revenge,” I said, pitch low. I released her chin. “My fleet will not be used for your personal vendettas.”
“That’s not my intention, sir.”
“Then, what is your intention?” I growled.
“I came here because I want to fight the System. The System, not Conflagria. They’re separate entities, sir. The Conflagrians are innocent; the System isn’t. My goal isn’t merely revenge, but to destroy the oppressors of my homeland to liberate my people. I didn’t think any of the other officers would understand, but I was hoping… I was hoping…”
“You were hoping I’d be the one to understand,” I finished, quietly.
She nodded.
I thought back to the emotional turmoil I suffered when I was six, when I first leaned about Conflagria’s dictatorship. I’d long since been aware of the distinction between the System and its constituency. I already saw what Scarlet wanted me to see. And, as she predicted, no one else in the Nurro-Ichthyothian military world really did. Even Colonel Austere shut me down when I tried to talk to him about it, eleven ages ago. Scarlet was right to try to
seek me out.
“You were the one I wanted to reveal my magehood to, sir,” she continued. “Ever since I learned about you, Commander Lechatelierite, I knew I had to find you, talk to you. That’s why I wanted to be a diver. So, I could be a part of your fleet, not the Air Force or the Ground Troops. Because I believed that, of anyone in your military, you could be trusted with this information and you’d know how to use me best. I wanted to come to you with the truth as soon as was feasible. But, then, this happened before I had the chance.”
There was a pause. I didn’t speak.
“Sir,” Scarlet breathed, “my magic could be a great asset to you. I know things about the spectrum and about Conflagrian society that could benefit the alliance. I’m the only chance you’ve got, to fight fire with fire.”
I turned away, unwilling to meet her earnest eyes any longer. I simply didn’t know what to do. She seemed sincere and full of good intentions, but I couldn’t help but still feel uneasy about her. She very emphatically declared her allegiance not only to Ichthyosis but to me in particular, yet she still called the Conflagrians ‘my people.’ I knew, no matter what, she’d never be one of us. The Nurians were our brothers, but magicfolk might as well be a different species, altogether. In the end, she’d always be a person of the fire and we’d always be people of the ice.
“I’m sorry, Scarlet, but I don’t think we can trust you,” I said, back still turned.
“Is it your fleet who can’t trust me, or just you?” she growled. “Because I’ve seen the legendary Commander Cease Lechatelierite crippled and half-blind?”
I was definitely taken aback. She just told me, moments ago, how she wanted to be a diver just so she could work with me—how she believed, out of anyone in the alliance, I’d be the one to listen to her, understand where she was coming from, and make optimal use of her talents—and, now, she was turning around and attacking me personally.
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