Ascension (The Circle War Book 3)

by Matt King

  “She spoke to me too,” August said. “But not through speaking. It’s like I knew what she was saying without her actually saying anything.”

  “You are describing memory implantation. What she does should not be possible, especially with me.”

  “So what did she say to you?”

  “She let me view the world through her eyes. She sees things differently than others.” Again, Ion stalled, thrumming in place. “When you look at your hand, what do you see?”

  August paused, wondering if it was a trick question. He studied his hand just the same. “Fingers covered in this blue…whatever it is. Metal? I don’t know.”

  “You see your armor.”

  “Well, yeah.” Somehow he’d gotten the question wrong.

  “When Tiale looks at you, she sees the same, but then she sees past the armor to the skin, and then to the layers of tissue that make up your skin. She continues deeper to your living cells. She sees the organisms and cellular components that exist within you. She sees beyond them to the chemical components, to the bonds that hold them together, to the universe of infinitesimally minute life that exists beyond what is known. She does not stop there.”

  “What else is there?”

  “She sees time, both future and past. What she showed me was overwhelming even for the brief moment she shared her sight with me. When she looks beyond the layers of this world, she continues down the fractal to worlds through time. Our worlds. Other universes. She is in a permanent state of mental process, constantly swimming deeper down the fractal. The only way she knows to break the cycle is to kill whatever her eyes have seen through.”

  “But she didn’t kill you,” August said.

  “No, she did not, and this thrilled her. Her whole existence has been a cycle of three things: life, time, and death. When I broke that cycle, it gave her some respite from her prison of thought. She was happy, for a moment.”

  “Sounds like you two really hit things off.”

  “She is of interest to me. Nothing more.”

  The next question that popped in August’s mind made him pause. It felt strange to consider the feelings of a computer. “When it comes down to it,” he said. “Will you be able to kill her?”

  Strings of yellow appeared in the bands around Ion’s shell. “I do not know how.”

  As soon as he said the words, a crash of sparks erupted from the left side of the room as the ship rocked sideways. August fell against the side wall. He drew both swords as he got to his feet. “What was that?”

  Ion retreated to his hull and shut the capsule around himself without answering. The conduit of wires connecting him to the ship erupted in light.

  “August!” Cerenus’ voice came screaming through the loudspeakers. “Get up on the bridge, now!”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  A sound like thunder crashing ricocheted through the ship’s corridors as another explosion rocked the hull. August struggled to make it up the ramp without having to hold onto the walls for balance. By the time he got there, the rest of the Alliance was already staring out the wide windows at the front of the bridge. Outside, small silver warships shaped like two teardrops bound by a cockpit shot past with blue fire trailing behind them. Cannon fire peppered Cerenus’s cruiser from all sides.

  “Somebody talk to me,” August said as he joined the group.

  “Legion,” Aeris replied, and that was enough to explain everything. The Ministers had found them again.

  Cerenus phased through the floor and immediately charged toward the computers. Thin strands of light connected his fingers to the surface as he worked furiously at the controls. “Ion doesn’t have a place for us to go yet. He needs more time.”

  “How much time?” August asked.

  “More than we have.” Cerenus disconnected himself from the consoles and turned to the group. The overhead lights flickered as another cannon shot struck the hull. “There are too many of them out there and my armada isn’t close enough. I’m going to see if I can pull their fire away.”

  Another set of tremors ran through the ship, but it wasn’t from gunfire. The sound was deeper. Everyone went silent as one echoing thud after another vibrated the walls.

  Bear scowled as he stared down the hallway. “Is that what I think it is?”

  August turned his ear as a final thud sounded behind him from the direction of the engines. We’re being boarded.

  “Can you hold off the ones outside?” he asked.

  “In theory,” Cerenus answered.

  “Go. We’ll take care of things here.”

  Cerenus flew toward the ceiling and phased to the outside. Two bright flashes preceded a pair of Galan’s Legion crashing into each other and hurtling past the window in flames. Cerenus flew across the nose of the bridge and burst his way through a passing fighter. The ship exploded in a spray of blue fire.

  Aeris caught August’s eye before walking toward the ramp leading to the control center. Her hands were already covered in flames. “I will take below.”

  “I’ll go left,” Bear said. He nearly took up the entire hallway as he lumbered down the path.

  The Horsemen were already in full combat gear, their flat black face shields barely reflecting the red lights of the bridge. He motioned for them to head to the back of the ship. They took off with curved blades in hand.

  That left August with the path to the engine room. He triggered his mask and unsheathed his blades.

  If they were boarded by Galan’s Legion, that only meant one thing: Ministers. There was no use trying to mask his steps as he walked down the hallway. The Ministers had better senses than Aeris. There was a time when he would’ve felt nervous about walking into a fight he might lose. Those nerves were nowhere to be found anymore. He wondered for a brief moment if they were really gone, or if they were simply replaced with something else. Dr. Ion can fill me in later. For now, he only knew that he was angry, and that was enough to fuel him.

  Something crashed to the floor around the corner ahead of him. He stopped and pressed his back to the wall. At least two sets of footsteps came toward him.

  Two. I can handle two, right?

  A third Minister landed nearby.

  Shit. The others might be able to handle the numbers, but he wasn’t so sure. One weak strand was all it took to break the rope. If he fell, so fell the people he was trying to keep safe, and he wasn’t going to let that happen again.

  You’ve fought them before and won. You can do it again.

  He took a deep breath and rounded the corner.

  The trio of Ministers waited for him with their violet energy staffs already in hand. They wore new suits of armor in place of their old energy shields—light gray tunics made of thick fabric, covering everything except their smooth, shiny heads. Brilliant blue eyes stared back at him, as unfeeling as they were probing. He wondered what went through what was left of their brains. Were they using Coburn’s implanted knowledge to assess his weaknesses? He could’ve saved them some trouble—Coburn thought everything about him was weak. If it was only combat they drew from Coburn, August knew it well. It was as brutal as the man who developed it.

  “You could’ve knocked,” August said, pointing one of his swords to the hole in the hull. The fact that the hallway hadn’t turned into a giant vacuum meant that the Ministers’ ships were still attached somehow.

  The Minister in front shrank his irises before he spoke. That never stops being creepy.

  “You will yield, or you will die screaming.” Their voices were eerily similar to Coburn’s, each word like an oak door grinding on its hinges.

  “The only way I die screaming is if Christina Hendricks decides to act out the entirety of Kama Sutra with me. Until then, you guys are gonna end up like every other electronic device I’ve ever owned—smashed into pieces because you don’t work right.”

  And there it was, the moment of hesitation Galan’s machines always had when he talked to them. They were built to give orders and kill things
, not interpret stupid jokes, and he used the small window of time to make the first move.

  He charged toward the Ministers and ducked into a slide across the polished ship floors just before a staff came sweeping toward him. His swords took the legs out from under the first two. He jumped to his feet and pushed the last one against the wall, releasing a flurry of slashes to find a way past the cyborg’s defense before the others got up. The machine countered everything he tried. He was running out of time. The machines were programmed to fight like Coburn, meaning they wanted a methodical, tactical, artistically-choreographed fight. So let’s switch things up. August buried his foot into the Minister’s stomach, sheathed his swords, and started a brawl.

  Just as he hoped, the Minister wasn’t sure how to fight back against being tackled to the ground. The other two lunged at him. Without his blades, August was fast enough to grab one and toss him end-over-end against the side of the hallway. He heard the third Minister swing for him with his staff. The weapon tore through the metal walls as August ducked beneath it. He grabbed the cyborg’s arms from behind and pulled the staff back into its chest. The heat from the weapon’s edge cut through the hide of the Minister’s armor. August kept pulling until it sliced the machine in half. A mixture of blood and oily tissue spilled to the floor, filling the hallway with a metallic stench.

  He hesitated too long watching the machine die. A Minister swung for him, the tip of its staff drawing a long slash across August’s chest, breaking through to his skin. Even though his armor mended itself quickly, he could still feel the heat along the cut. Blood pooled beneath his suit.

  The remaining Ministers started to work as a team, maneuvering until they had him pinned to a wall, their staffs kept just out of August’s reach. He had no choice but to draw his weapons again. He waited until they both came for him, one swinging toward his head and the other toward his legs. August swatted both staffs away, his blades singing through the air. Instead of keeping an eye on both of them, he went full bore toward the one in front. He hacked away at the machine, unaware at first that he was screaming.

  Their weapons became tangled. With arms intertwined, August pinned the machine to the ground. Both held fast, unwilling to give an inch. The Minister’s eyes shifted just slightly over August’s shoulder. Its irises narrowed.

  Son of a bitch.

  August threw himself sideways just in time to avoid the staff slicing toward his back. The weapon sank into the throat of the prone machine. While he was pinned, August freed his swords and threw the standing Minister against the wall. He jammed a sword through his midsection, feeling the tip of the blade sink through the metal wall behind it. He took his other sword and swung as hard as he could, first chopping off its head and then ripping through the torso above and below. All that was left of the cyborg was the section of its thorax still pinned to the wall.

  The remaining Minister stirred beneath him. A string of black oil ran from his mouth. “You will never kill us all,” he sputtered.

  “Maybe not, but I can sure as hell kill you, fucko.”

  He took the staff still buried in the thing’s neck and pulled it hard through the midsection, cutting it in two.

  After a few disbelieving breaths, he stood in the scattered remains of the Ministers and slowly let himself relax. He stared at the face of each machine to make sure their light had truly gone out.

  “All clear here,” Aeris said through his comm device.

  Her voice snapped him back to reality. He had to think for a second before he remembered that he was supposed to keep track of the rest of his team. Especially her.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “I shall be an old, decrepit woman before creatures such as these can best me.”

  She’s okay.

  “Meet me back on the bridge. We’ll check the others.”

  He took his first step only to stop again in the middle of the hallway. More crashing sounds thrummed against the hull, twice as many as before.

  The Ministers were still coming.

  He counted a dozen new boardings before he made it back to the bridge. Everyone else was already there. He could see in their eyes that they were thinking the same thing he was. It’s going to be too much for us soon.

  “Cerenus, we have a situation here,” he said.

  “Tell Ion to hurry up and pick a damned escape route!” Cerenus yelled back through the headset. “There are too many of these machines.”

  “Yeah, and we’re about to be boarded by a hundred more. Get your ass back here.”

  “If I come back there now, you’ll be blown to pieces before they ever get to you.”

  An explosion ended the godclone’s transmission.

  August felt sweat beading on his skin. The Ministers’ landings sounded like drum beats against the ship’s hull.

  “We need to get out of here,” he muttered to himself. He turned and looked at the situation outside. Cerenus was a speck flying from one warship to the next, killing one to every three that came flashing through a synapse.

  He pressed everything that looked like a button near the speaker for the control center. “Ion! Can you find us a spot or not?”

  Bear shook his head as he looked down at the consoles. “Now is not the time for this. You know Cerenus is the only one that can communicate with him.”

  “Ion!” August yelled again.

  “He can’t—” Aeris began, but stopped when she saw Soraste’s champion emerge from the ramp leading to the Control Center.

  “There are no coordinates to report,” Ion said.

  Aeris and Bear stared at him with mouths agape. The Horsemen traded looks.

  The “I told you so” talk is going to have to wait. “What do you mean there are no coordinates?” he asked.

  “There are no coordinates because there are no engines to take us there.”

  As soon as Ion finished speaking, footsteps rumbled from all sides of them.

  Ion floated toward the center of the room. Ministers appeared from every direction, sprinting down the hallways with their staffs glowing. Before they got to the bridge, metal doors slid shut over every entrance, sealing the Alliance inside.

  “We have thirty seconds until the doorways no longer function,” Ion said.

  A heavy thud struck the door to the engine room. August switched to infrared. A small disc of red appeared in the center of the door, growing by the second. They’re melting through it.

  “Cerenus, we need a synapse,” he said.

  The godclone’s voice crackled through his speaker. “I’m a little busy!”

  “Now! We’re sitting ducks in here.”

  “I don’t know what that means and I don’t care. If I make a synapse, it will only be for us. I can’t take the ship that far.”

  “We don’t have a ship anymore.”

  “What did you do to my ship?!”

  A hole appeared in the engine room door as the Ministers’ weapons burned through the metal.

  “Cerenus, do it now!”

  Like a streak of lightning, Cerenus phased through the hull and landed in the center of the Alliance. He threw out his hand and created a disk of white light just as the metal doorways gave way. August and the rest of the group sprinted through, unaware of where they were about to land as they went tumbling across to the other side. Cerenus came streaking past the synapse membrane just ahead of a battalion of Ministers. He closed the portal with a ragged wave of his arm. The Ministers blinked away in a mist.

  “Where are we?” Aeris said groggily. She extended her hand to help August up.

  “We’re stuck, is where we are,” Cerenus said.

  “Stuck where?” August pawed at the layer of gray dirt covering his armor. Combined with the low clouds overhead, the overbaked planet reminded him of Vontanu. Just like on Aeris’s home world, all he could see were miles of barren hills on all sides. The air tasted thin.

  Cerenus got in his face. “‘Home’ should be what you call it, because you bett
er get used to these surroundings. We’re stranded on this rock because of you.”

  “Because of me?”

  “Yes, you. You’re the one who led us here.”

  “Excuse me, but which one of us just created a portal to Dustworld?”

  “I saved our lives!” Cerenus thundered. “Lives you put in danger. Again. I should’ve never listened to you. To think that for so long, I thought you actually meant to win this war.”

  “What are you talking about? Of course I’m trying to win it.”

  “No, you’re not. We need armies to fight armies, and because of your childish rules, we don’t have any. All you mean to do is rid yourself of guilt and you’re willing to kill yourself and everyone else to make that happen.”

  “Maybe we should all take a breath,” Bear said.

  “No, let him get it out,” August replied, still glaring at Cerenus. “He’s obviously got a lot to say.”

  “It’s not just me. They’re all thinking it, I’m just the only one who dares tell the great August Dillon that he’s the single worst leader in the known universe.”

  The words stung more than August thought they would. “What do you know about leadership? Before you joined us, all you did was sit around and drink.”

  “In peace, you idiot! Or did you miss that part? I drank in peace because I knew how to keep it. And I won’t sit here and have my leadership skills questioned by a man who doesn’t even know the first thing about the team he’s leading because he can’t be bothered to see past himself.”

  August shook his head. “This is crazy.”

  “I’ll prove it to you,” Cerenus said. He walked to Aeris’s side. “Do you even know her father’s name? The one she still mourns? Do you?”

  Aeris’s heavy expression answered for him.

  “And the brothers,” Cerenus said. “I bet you don’t even know which one of them is mute.”

  “They’re all mute,” August said gingerly.

  Cerenus smiled. “You see? There it is. You don’t care enough about anyone to ask. Only one of them is mute. The others stay silent out of solidarity. There’s a term you ought to spend some time with someday—solidarity. I hear they have a good discussion about it the first day of leadership academy.”