The smile on Alexander’s face broadened. “Who are you?”
“Everyone calls me Jeb.”
Alexander placed a hand on Jeb’s shoulder. “We have no quarrel with you, Jeb. Just let me have a few words with your priest, and we’ll be on our way.”
Jeb stared at his feet for a moment. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. We have no priest. Not of Themis, anyway.”
A woman nodded toward the building with the cross above the door. “We have no use for your false goddess.”
“I thought you might say that,” Alexander said, his face a mask of sadness. With one swift motion, he drew a dagger from his robe and plunged it deep into Jeb’s stomach. He thrust it upward and released it. Blood trickled from the soaked blade onto his hand.
Jeb gasped and doubled over, clutching his gut. Lightning flashed, showing the surprise on his face. Alexander kicked him down and stood over the dying man, taking care not to soil his boots in the blood that painted the puddles red.
“You can kill the believers, but not their faith,” Jeb said with his dying breath.
“We shall see about that, old man.”
A roar of shock and outrage broke from the crowd. They moved toward Alexander like a wall of hatred. The Head Priest’s guards raised their swords and spears, but he lifted one hand to stop them. His other hand pulled out a second amulet from his robe, this one with a fiery red stone set on a silver disk. A dark spot at its center made it resemble a spiteful eye. When he rubbed it, jet black, smoky tendrils sprang from within to reach into the crowd. Whenever a twisting tentacle touched someone, they stepped back, an expression of terror in their contorted faces. Men wailed and sank to their knees, clutching their heads.
“This did not strike me as a village filled with law-abiding, Themis-loving citizens,” Alexander roared to be heard over the storm. “Thankfully, we have ways of dealing with heretics.”
He raised the amulet and a hungry red light came to life between his fingers. With his other hand, he motioned for his men to start moving outward, like a porcupine with its spikes raised. The guard’s estimate of a hundred soldiers was born out of fear, but they still formed a formidable group—especially with the villagers on their knees.
A dark tendril slithered toward David. Everywhere it touched, the grass withered and died, letting out a shrill scream. Worms, bugs, flowers, everything twisted and died in writhing agony. The shrieks filled David’s head, paralyzing him. He wanted to run away, but his feet refused to obey him. He spotted Cyrus near him, twitching on the ground.
The tendril drew closer, inching toward David like a skinless snake on broken glass. When it touched David’s skull, his soul sank into a bottomless pit of despair. He screamed in pain and anguish as he squirmed on the ground. Everything is lost, a voice whispered in his head. Why not give up, servant boy?
He ground his teeth and thrashed in the mud. Everything you’ve ever fought for is gone, the voice continued. It twisted in his head like dark, oily tentacles. Something pulsed against his thigh. Just let me in and I’ll be merciful. He lowered his hand to his leg. His fingers clutched the Sheim-h’thor. Why fight? the voice scoffed. It’s too late. He slapped the Sheim-h’thor against his chest and slammed the button. It sprang to life, as a scream exploded in his head.
The device covered his body in a second, bringing blissful silence with it. He blinked to clear his vision. A guard had raised a sword to strike at him, but the Sheim-h’thor startled him. David lifted his arm. His Sheimlek-dar clicked in position. A burst of blue light bolted from its twin prongs and struck the guard in his chest. The man flew backward, a stunned look on his face.
David crawled to his feet. Two more guards ran his way with drawn swords. David lifted his hand again, but a terrified group of villagers escaping the square like a panicked herd came between him and the soldiers. If I shoot, I’ll hit the villagers. He pushed through the throng and drew his sword. The Head Priest was waving frantically in his direction, barking orders. Smoky black tentacles rushed toward David, shriveling away as soon as they touched his armor.
David rushed over to his companion. “Cyrus! Wake up,” he shouted. The man was lying unconscious in the mud, a short sword in his hand. David kneeled next to him and shook him. Why didn’t you get your Sheim-h’thor?
Out of the corner of his eye he caught a charging guard, his drawn sword ready to strike. David sank to his knees and spun around, cutting the man’s stomach. With a swirl of his body, he drew the sword out and plunged it into a second guard’s abdomen. Something pushed against his back. A guard had struck him with a spear, but the armor had absorbed the brunt of the impact. David blasted the guard with his Sheimlek-dar. The man flew in the air and David pressed toward Alexander, whose eyes were as wide as the moons.
With no villagers between him and his quarry, David raised his arm and blasted away at the guards. They fled, leaving Alexander standing alone, cursing at his men. Best take him alive. Let’s see what’s really happening at the Capital.
David grabbed the Head Priest, who slammed his fist against the armor. David laughed. “I’d like to ask you some questions, Priest.” He grabbed Alexander’s hair and dragged the screaming man behind him. A dagger appeared in Alexander’s hand. He thrust it into David’s thigh, but it bounced against the armor.
David slapped the dagger away. “Enough of that nonsense. I just—”
A blast on his back threw him into the air. He splashed into the mud and spun around. Alexander stood in the rain, mouth gaping. Behind him, a tattoo-covered man aimed a glowing rod at David and fired again.
The Valley
Seventeen
Protect him! The order in his head could not be clearer. Seventeen pushed the white-robed man behind him to keep him safe. He reeked of the same darkness that coursed through his own veins. Instinctively, he knew him for an ally.
Seventeen focused on the man in the strange suit. He took aim and a red blast shot from the end of his weapon. His prey darted off to the side. The energy bolt exploded behind him, raining mud and soil. The dark-clad figure spun around and raised his hand. A blue light shot forward. With a curse, Seventeen activated the shield on his weapon. A pale crimson light engulfed him. The blue light crackled against it and dissipated.
Well done, my child. Shoot at his heart.
Seventeen noticed a faint glow on his quarry’s chest, like someone was highlighting a target for him. A target he wouldn't miss. As his prey prepared to fire another bolt, Seventeen fired. His shot exploded right in the middle of the man’s chest. A screech filled the air, then the armor clicked away, revealing a bearded man in a long coat. Seventeen whirled around, avoiding another blast from the man’s wrist. He covered the distance between them in a second. With a twirl of his wrist, he slashed away a bracelet from the man’s hand. Smoking, it clanged to the ground as the man screamed and clutched his wounded wrist.
I hate screamers. Seventeen whacked him on the head with the butt of his weapon. The man crashed into the mud, silent.
Seventeen kicked a smoldering, scarab-shaped fragment away. It landed in a puddle of water and hissed, steam rising into the rain.
Someone tapped his shoulder and the clone spun around, firing up his weapon’s fiery blade.
“No need for that, friend.” The white-robed man ran shaking fingers through his silver hair.
Seventeen studied the man’s shaken face. Eyes the color—and warmth—of ice stared back at him. Gaunt and tall, this was someone clearly bred to lead. With some help, of course. He extinguished his weapon’s flame and offered his arm.
The man clutched it, his grip still unsteady. “I’m Alexander.”
“Sev…” A number is no name for a human. Seventeen coughed. “Sebastian.”
Sebastian
“You saved my life,” Alexander said. “Thank you.” There was genuine gratitude in the man’s eyes, but also an appraising glint. “Now, to gather those cowards.” His eyes scanned the deserted square and he scratched his
clean-shaven chin. “Bastards. I’ll have their hide.”
A strange sight caught Seventeen’s—no, Sebastian’s—breath. Tiny smoky tendrils seemed to come out of a glowing ember on Alexander’s chest. They imbued the man’s every pore, like he were no more than a vessel for the shadowy presence. Is this what saved me? Despite himself, Sebastian fought a shudder and nodded toward the fallen warrior. “What should I do with him?”
A spiteful glow lit up Alexander’s face. He glanced at the helpless villagers on the ground. Most were unconscious, others were clutching their heads, muttering. “Kill them all.” He raised his head, still searching for his guards. “Will you need help with that?”
“No.” Sebastian flicked the weapon back to life. The hungry blade split the night in a bright red flame. He moved closer to the fallen warrior and raised his hand.
Alexander caught his wrist. “Not him. He should suffer. Tie him up, then gather my men. As of now, you are a captain of my guard. Kneel.” He pulled the golden scales from his neck and motioned for Sebastian to kneel before him. He placed a hand on his head. Instead of clutching the scales with his other hand, he held the dark, glowing ruby hanging from his neck and murmured something in a language Sebastian failed to recognize. It reeked of the fury consuming them both.
“Now, rise.”
A priest standing next to them coughed gently. He was clutching a crystal cube in his hand. “We searched the ape that attacked you, Eminence. Found this in his pocket.”
Alexander took the artifact and grinned. “An information crystal. The Librarian will love this.” He pocketed the cube and studied the new captain for a moment, before placing a hand on his shoulder. “Capture all the villagers you can lay your hands on. I’ll teach this village a lesson they won’t forget any time soon.” He nodded toward a house overlooking the plaza. “I shall be there when you are done.”
Sebastian revealed his teeth in a wide grin and twirled his weapon. The villagers on the square weren’t going anywhere. As for the rest, they were probably hiding in their homes. This made things easier. Together, they might pose a threat. He would visit enough homes to satisfy Alexander. Then, the priest would take him to the Capital. From there, he would wait for the whispering presence to guide him.
He approached the first door, made of thick wood, and kicked it in. After two kicks, the lock splintered and the door heaved inside. He entered a dark hallway. Sudden movement caught his eye. He whirled around and lifted his blade, then froze. Anna?
A tall woman with disheveled blond hair stood before him, a sleeping baby in her arms. She pressed her hand to her mouth to stop from screaming. Her eyes, wide as the twin moons, pleaded silently with him. A young girl with a golden braid hid behind her. More women and children ran out of rooms, halting in their tracks as they saw him.
He prepared to strike. You don’t have to do this, Anna’s voice said inside his head. His eyes widened. In place of the blond woman, Anna was standing before him, a beatific baby boy in her arms, his hair as red as hers.
“You’re dead,” he hollered. “I killed you.”
She laughed an easy laugh that echoed crystal notes in the small hallway. “How presumptuous,” she scolded him and clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “Can you give life, clone?”
“What?” He wiped thick beads of sweat from his brow. “No.”
“How can you take it, then?” She shook her head, her beautiful face turning serious. “Nothing ever dies. But we must still respect all life. That’s why you will spare these people.”
Kill them, the raging voice in his head screamed. What are you waiting for? His body refused to obey, frozen in place. His hand trembled. Resigned, he lowered his blade. “Hide,” he growled.
Before he could blink, the corridor stood empty, the house deserted.
What have you done? the voice roared in his head. Why did you let them live?
Screw you. Sebastian sat heavily on the stairs and ran his hand through the stubble on his head. What the freezing hell is wrong with me?
March 16, The Valley
Sebastian
“This. This is what I want.” Alexander stabbed the e-lib screen with a gaunt finger and leaned back on his chair. “That cross on their church gave me the idea. What do you think?”
The morning sun filtered through the windows, cutting him up in rectangles of light and dark. The long tables no doubt had held happy families and steaming bowls of stew just a day ago. For some inexplicable reason, Seventeen—no, Sebastian, he reminded himself—found the thought depressing. He took a look at the screen and fought a sneer of contempt. Why not just kill them? “Very well.”
Alexander cocked an eyebrow. “You disagree?”
“It’s just…” Sebastian searched for the right word. “Inefficient. We have dozens of prisoners. To build enough crosses, we’ll need a week. Why not just slaughter them like the cattle that they are?”
The priest’s eyes narrowed disapprovingly. “You do like your blood, do you not?” He shook his head and returned his attention to the e-lib in his hands, flicking through images of tortured, contorted bodies. “You think me a monster.”
Absolutely. “Of course not.”
Alexander gently placed the e-lib on the table. “Why do you think we are here?”
To rid our planet from humanity? “To put the fear of Themis in the villagers’ hearts.”
“Close enough. We are here to return these lost children to Her grace. To remind them of their place in the world. Everyone serves someone. We all serve Themis.” He waved around him. “This lost flock has lost their way. They forgot who their real master is.” He steepled his hands and met Sebastian’s gaze. “I was like you, once. Indecisive. Weak.” His eyes glazed like he were reliving his past. “I was the youngest in our family. My elder brothers joined the army. I became a priest. Not out of conviction, but because I could not think of a better alternative. I got married to a wonderful woman. We had a beautiful daughter. The joy of my life. Until the fire claimed them.” The corners of his mouth twitched and dropped, making Alexander lose his constant sneer. “When I lost them, I lost my faith. I turned to drink. Gambling. Whoring. I was lost for years. Then, the servants of Themis found me. They showed me why I had lost my family. It was because I did not deserve them.” A furious spark flashed in his eyes. “Don’t you see? My lack of faith killed them. I am to blame.”
“I don’t think it works that way,” Sebastian said with a gentle voice.
Alexander banged his fist on the table. “That is exactly how it works. Bad things happen to the faithless. But Themis showed me how to be strong. She gave me faith. And she has never lied to me. Ever since I became Her servant, Themis has guided my every step, leading me to where I am now: one of the most powerful men on the planet.” His sneer returned as abruptly as it had disappeared. “And soon enough, the most powerful man on the planet.” He rubbed his chin for a while, lost in thought. “That is why I must stamp out this heathen village from the planet,” he continued. “She wants me to make an example out of them, so as to strengthen people’s faith.”
You’re nuts. “So, why not just kill them?”
Alexander let out a sigh. “How many villagers would you say this village has?”
“A few hundred?”
“At least. They are hiding, of course. No sense looking for them all over the mountains. So, we do the next best thing. We take the ones we have captured and line the streets with their bodies.” He pointed at a screen full of bodies hanging from lampposts. “Sure, we could hang them. But a crucifixion is so much more…” He seemed to struggle to find the right word. “Appropriate, wouldn’t you say? It ties in with their false god. Besides, I hear it takes them days to die. They drown slowly. Some may even still be alive by the time we leave.” He tapped the e-lib’s screen off and shoved it away, avoiding the images. It slid on the table, stopping inches from the edge. “Think of the effect something like that has on a man. They shall never ignore Themis again.” He so
unded deflated, as if trying to convince himself. “Now, why would building forty crosses take a week?”
“To cut down enough trees—”
“Why not save us both some time and tear apart their homes? Surely they have enough wooden beams there to build all the crosses you will need?”
Why didn’t I think of that? Sebastian clenched his jaw. It’s that accursed Anna. Why won’t she leave me alone? He’d been seeing the specter everywhere. He swallowed a sigh.
The priest’s eyes bore a hole in his head. “You still do not like it, do you?”
How can I explain to you about Anna? “What about ‘justice without compassion is but tyranny?’ ” he asked, to change the subject.
“I am compassionate.” Alexander leaned back. “What do you know of our religion?” He rubbed his temples as he continued without waiting for an answer. “Nirvana. The return to the source. Theosis. Most religions describe the same thing as a soul’s destiny: to rejoin its maker. Our religion is no different. We shall be judged after death, and shall either join our Creator in Heaven, or be condemned to a lifetime of suffering. Even you and I shall be judged.”
Will I? Do clones have a soul? He found the thought intriguing. “And Themis?”
“Themis represents the laws that govern this process.” He lowered his voice to a revering whisper, darting glances around the room like someone might hear him. “But She is as real as you and I. Let no one tell you otherwise. I’ve seen Her.” He closed his eyes, as if in silent prayer, his face taut.
Sebastian glanced wistfully outside, a sudden longing to leave all this nonsense behind him. Spending time with humans was proving more taxing than he had expected. “What does all that have to do with the prisoners?”
Alexander snapped his eyes open. “There are two principles in the world toward which people are instinctively drawn. Pleasure and pain. Most gravitate toward pleasure. But it is pain that shapes us, betters us.”
Pearseus Bundle: The Complete Pearseus Sci-fi/Fantasy Series Page 96