Sudden movement grabbed their attention.
“Well, well, well,” Alexander’s nasally voice said behind them. “Did someone mention my name?”
They swirled around. A dozen men in white robes jumped from the adjacent roofs and surrounded them. Gella’s eyes opened wide when she spotted a clone among them. Her hand snapped to the dagger hanging from her belt, when the priest pulled something hanging from a gold chain around his neck. A pulsating red light flickered between his fingers.
Alexander clicked his tongue in disapproval and a wave of despair washed over Gella, swallowing her whole. Her surroundings dissolved into a black hole of terrifying images. Her dead husband looked at her for help, blood oozing from his chest. She tried to stop the flow with her bare hands but could only watch him gag in his own blood. She raised her hands, her mind numb with pain.
Parad! Her lover stood within a golden light, his back turned to her. She ran to him, almost reaching him. As soon as her fingers brushed against his skin, the glow burst and he dissolved in a fine ash that twirled in the wind and scattered like gray snowflakes over the city.
Another image burst into her mind, of David watching her from a distance. She took one dizzying step toward him, but her feet turned to lead, then clay. They broke under the weight of her body. Screaming, she tried to drag herself to him with her arms, but they, too, shattered into a million pieces, leaving just her contorting torso. The weight of one loss after another exploded in her heart, consuming her with such ferociousness that even the pain from her missing limbs faded away.
Gella howled in despair and crashed to her knees, sobbing.
“Search them,” Alexander’s voice said from afar.
She turned herself to find the voice, but her pain blinded her. Hands grabbed her, tugged at her clothes. She swiveled her body in an instinctive attempt to fight back, then gave up as a new wave of agonizing despair washed over her. What’s the point?
Fingers searched her clothes, found the hidden compartment in her belt, fished out the crystal. Her whole body now quivered and shook with every sob, her failures crushing her. Please. Let me die. She didn’t fight the hands pulling her back to her feet. Someone accidentally jabbed her wound, but the sharp sting of pain was lost amid the agony in her head.
Alexander’s hand lifted her chin. His touch was surprisingly gentle. “Isn’t this better, child?” He let her head fall to her chest and pulled an e-lib from his robe. When he pressed Paul’s device to its side, the screen flickered to life and displayed numbers, unit information and maps. Alexander guffawed. “Oh, Paul, you are making it too easy.”
Teo
He grinned. The reflection in the mirror grinned back. With just a few days before he left for Jonia, he had been preparing his speech to the troops—one of many similar speeches he had given in the past months—since yesterday. Still, he wasn’t happy, so he had retired early to his bedroom, to work on it before going to sleep. Today he was wearing his silk robe, but when he gave the speech he would be garbed in the red leather vest that had come to symbolize his valor in Ephia.
He cleared his throat and glanced at the e-lib in his hand. “My friends, these are troubling times. We have seen the treachery of Anthea in the North. They have collided with monsters, proving they’ll stop at nothing to bring us down. I have made countless attempts to reason with them, to get them to leave us alone. But they laugh in our faces, saying one thing and doing another. They mock us. They’re not to be trusted.” He studied his sorrowful expression in the mirror. His full lips had a hint of a smile. He snuffed it out. I need to watch out for that tell.
“Will you let them get away with it all? Will you let the cunning scorpions…” He frowned and studied the text, then tapped the screen. No, not scorpions, or Scorpio may take offense. He had to find another animal. Dogs, perhaps? He scratched his chin in thought.
A tap on the door broke his conversation. “What?” he barked.
A guard showed up at the door. “My Lord, his Eminence, Alexander, asks to see you. Says it’s urgent.”
Teo threw the e-lib on his bed. The speech would have to wait. “My office. Five minutes.”
He debated changing clothes, then decided against it. His robe would remind the priest of the inconvenient time. With any luck, he might have enough time to both finish his speech and get some sleep.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. With barely a month before the invasion, he had not a moment to spare. And now some new crisis, no doubt—for why else would the priest be bothering him at this hour? Do I have to do everything myself?
He draped his shoulders with a long cloak of spun wool and marched straight to his office. As soon as he sat on the leather chair, someone knocked on the door.
“Come,” he barked.
Alexander broke the threshold first. He nodded at someone behind him. Priests dragged into the room two more people, who avoided Teo’s shocked gaze.
Paul? And Gella? His jaw slackened. “What is the meaning of this?”
Paul opened his mouth to speak, but Alexander spoke first. “My Lord, we caught the two of them conspiring against the Capital.”
“Nonsense,” Paul burst in. “Gella is an envoy from Anthea. She only wanted to ask me if I could expedite your meeting with her. Is it true she’s been here a week without you seeing her?”
“If your meeting was so innocent, why not go through the proper channels?” Alexander asked.
Teo studied the priest, who seemed to be enjoying some private joke. At whose expense, though? He then eyed Gella, who seemed to be studying her boots. Her arms hung limply, all life drained from her. Every now and then, she let out a sniffle. Teo’s eyebrows flew up. Is she… crying? She looks so broken.
“She tried that, but the Regent hadn’t responded,” Paul said. “My Lord, it’s true; my behavior was inappropriate, and for that I apologize. Gella merely wished to ask whether she should return to Anthea. There’s no sense in her waiting here, if you had no wish to meet with her, and that’s what I told her.”
Teo steepled his hands. “Where did this meeting take place?”
“In the slums,” Alexander said. “My men happened upon them by pure chance and found it wise to let me know.”
Pure chance, huh? Teo barely contained a smirk. In other words, you had them followed round the clock. His fingers played a slow rhythm on the leather arm of his chair. Your men must be really good if Gella failed to spot them. His mood darkened. Do you do the same with me? He realized how many priests had been lying around the Chambers lately. As soon as I’m back from Anthea, I have to deal with you. He cleared his throat. “I apologize for the delay in meeting with the envoy of our friends beyond the sea. We have been preoccupied by…”—he flipped the e-lib with all the invasion data upside down—“other matters. But this is hardly the time or place.” He shot Paul a glare. “Or the proper process, meeting with you behind my back.”
To his shock, Paul spat at Gella. Even more shocking, she failed to react in any way, letting the spittle drip from her cheek; she didn’t even seem to acknowledge the people in the room. “I can assure you,” Paul said, raising an eyebrow, “I have no wish to spend a single moment with the Butcher of Ephia. I was merely trying to ascertain her intentions.”
Teo studied him. He looked sincere but for the raised eyebrow. A tell he remembered well from all those nights playing poker. What are you really up to, old friend? The stench of betrayal hung over the man, despite his professed innocence.
Alexander started to speak, but Teo silenced him with a raised finger. “Paul, I’m disappointed in you. I’ve given you everything, and this is how you repay me.” He rapped his fingers against the armrest. “I’d love to hear more about this, but it can wait. A little jail time will probably—”
“My Lord, if I may?” Alexander interrupted him.
Teo frowned but waved for him to speak.
“If you release them to my custody, I can find out what they were really discussing.”
<
br /> Well, if there’s a man who can get someone to talk, that’s Alexander. But should I torture Anthea’s envoy? He glanced at Gella, or whatever was left of her. Were it not for the two priests holding her, Teo had no doubt she would collapse on the floor. What has he done to her?
The priest rubbed his finger absentmindedly with his amulet. The red stone glowed and pulsed hypnotically, a dark spot at its center drawing in Teo’s gaze. “With everything going on, you may prefer to leave the prisoners to me,” he said in a monotonous voice. “You have the campaign and so much more to focus on.”
He continued talking, but the words sounded garbled and blurry. When he stopped, Teo jerked his head and snapped out of a strange trance. He blinked repeatedly to clear his mind. Everyone in the room was staring at him. “Fine,” he said in a hoarse voice. “You take them.”
“Thank you, my Lord,” Alexander said and took a deep bow.
“You can’t do this,” Paul cried out as priests dragged him out of the room.
“I’m Anthea’s envoy,” Gella whispered in a broken voice.
Her flat, monotonous tone made Teo cringe. He watched with relief as the bizarre party left his office. I’m glad she’s not my problem anymore. With a sigh, he sank into his chair and closed his eyes, fighting an overwhelming desire to sleep. His jaw hung in a monstrous yawn. I have been overdoing it. Perhaps I do deserve an early night before leaving for Jonia.
Alexander
“Take them to my private cells,” Alexander ordered. He grinned at the look on Paul’s face as the priests dragged him away. “Except for him. He’s a common criminal, so he goes to the common cells.”
“Wait,” Paul said.
Alexander nodded and the priests froze in place. He approached the prisoner.
“Why didn’t you tell him about the crystal?” Paul whispered, avoiding Alexander’s eyes. “It’s not like you to be merciful.”
“My dear Paul,” Alexander said with a snigger, “had I done so, our Regent would have killed you both on the spot. No, I have other plans for you. I may still need you.” He caressed Gella’s wet cheek with the back of his hand. “You’re the lucky beneficiary of that need. Besides, had Teo killed you, I would have no opportunity to interrogate you, would I?”
A visible shudder went through Paul’s body. “You’re a monster,” he hissed.
Alexander waved the priests away. “Not you,” he told Sebastian.
The man paused and turned back, approaching him. “Why are you letting them live?” he asked when the prisoners were out of earshot.
Alexander’s lips parted in a half-smile. “The Servants are very fond of you, you know that?” Should I tell him what comes next? He patted the man’s back. The muscles felt hard as stone under his skin. He thought of the next steps of his plan, steps that required Sebastian’s help—and Sebastian’s strength. “I guess I can tell you.” He tugged at the man’s arm and glanced around to make sure no one heard them. “Walk with me.”
They exchanged no words until they reached Themis’ temple. As they stepped through the open heavy doors, Alexander noticed an older woman on her knees at the foot of the statue of Themis. He approached her silently, but the woman noticed him and jumped to her feet.
“Eminence,” she whispered reverently.
He extended his hand, and she bowed to place a fleeting kiss on his knuckles. He placed his other hand on her head. “What troubles you, my child?”
“It’s my daughter-in-law,” the woman whined, hate marring her face. “She’s turned my son against me. They are forcing me out of my home. The house my husband—rest his soul—built with his own two hands.”
Alexander closed his eyes and placed a hand over his amulet. The stone burned his palm as he sought out the nearest Servant. He found him atop the statue of Themis and joined with him. He fought a dizzy spell as he looked down through the creature’s eyes, watching himself from the unusual angle. Go, he gave the silent command. Pass Themis’ judgment.
The creature let out a shrill cry and vanished in a puff of black mist, breaking the connection. Alexander opened his eyes. To his surprise, Sebastian was staring at the place where the Servant had stood. Can he see them?
“Themis’ power has no bounds,” he told both Sebastian and the woman. He touched the woman’s shoulder. “Your daughter-in-law shall trouble you no more,” he promised. “That is, if you’re telling me the truth. If not…” He let his voice trail off, nodding toward Themis.
“It’s true, I swear,” the woman protested in a shrill voice. Her face twitched in fear.
“It is not me you need to convince,” he said, smiling. “Themis sees all.”
The woman kissed his hand again before rushing out of the temple as if chased by demons.
“What just happened?” Sebastian asked.
“Justice. The woman asked for it, and Themis’ servant shall gave it to her.”
“Why, then, did she look so scared?”
“Because she hasn’t contemplated her own role in all of this. Has she been kind to her daughter-in-law? Has she respected her? Or has she been poisoning her son against his wife with her words?” Alexander smiled knowingly. “The Servants see all, and more than likely will punish them both. Had she forgiven her daughter-in-law, she would have been forgiven herself. By invoking Themis’ justice, she no longer has a right to Her mercy.”
He motioned for Sebastian to follow him and marched into his office. As soon as the door was closed behind them, he sat down behind his desk. “My men are preparing a virus, with the help of Themis’ servants,” he said in a hushed voice.
“A virus?” Sebastian sounded genuinely surprised. “You would unleash that on your own kind?”
Alexander steepled his fingers, frowning. “What a strange thing to say. My kind, as you put it, is the faithful. The virus will only kill non-believers.”
Sebastian crossed his arms, looking unconvinced. “You have a vaccine, then.”
Alexander swallowed to contain the excitement in his voice. “Obviously. The faithful shall be ready to inherit this planet, while the rest of humanity kills each other off.” He swiveled his chair. “That is why Anthea must put up a decent fight. Besides, the easier Altman finds it to win the war, the harder he will be to replace. Also, if enough troops survive the war, they might contain the outbreak. So, I need to make sure that Anthea has a chance to even the odds.” His lips parted in a wide grin. “That is why I shall send them the crystal Paul gave Gella. They cannot win, of course, but they may inflict enough damage for the disease to take hold before the Old Woman can intervene.”
“You said you need my help, but it sounds like you’ve got everything planned.” Sebastian looked away, his voice tired, resigned.
Alexander leaned forward, studying the man. Can he be trusted? He thought of the faith the Servants had in the man and dismissed his worries. “I need you to arrange an escape.”
Sebastian’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Escape?”
“Yes. Not right now, of course. In a few weeks’ time. First, we must make sure the prisoners are as contagious as possible. That will take time. Once they are ready, they must escape in order to carry the disease with them.”
“Won’t the virus kill them?”
Alexander nodded. “Eventually, yes. That is why we need to calibrate this perfectly. Gella is the odd one out. She will surely go to Anthea. It takes up to two weeks for her to reach the West, then we need another two before the first symptoms appear. So, they need to remain contagious but otherwise healthy for a month. And we need some time before we can even start preparing them.” He rolled his eyes. “As my physicians keep telling me, ‘we need to run some tests first.’ It will be April before they are ready.”
Sebastian frowned, as if working out something in his head. “If Gella can’t return to Anthea for that long, how will she pass on Paul’s information in time? That won’t give Anthea enough time to prepare against Altman, will it?”
He’s smart. “No,
” Alexander said, satisfied that the Servants were—as always—right in their judgment: Sebastian was the perfect tool for the job. “Our Regent is about to invade. That is why I am having the crystal delivered to Sol as we speak. By the time Gella arrives to Anthea, she shall find a city devastated by war. A city ripe for the cleansing fire of Themis. From there, the plague will spread throughout the Democracies in the West, while that other prisoner—David—contaminates the Capital. From there, it will spread east and to the New Capital. Only the faithful shall survive.” He opened his palms and bowed his head in a display of humility. “It is Themis’ will.”
March 29, The Capital
David
“What time do you think it is?”
Cyrus didn’t stop running his fingers down the door’s seams. “Damned if I know. Impossible to tell down here.”
David stifled a yawn. “If the physicians—”
“Doctors,” Cyrus corrected him, reminding him of the unusual title the men used among themselves.
“Doctors,” David agreed, his head heavy with exhaustion. He rolled the strange word on his tongue. “If they come every twelve hours, I make it early morning. They should be back any minute now, so, how about you stop that and get some rest?”
Cyrus mumbled something under his breath, glaring at the door. “I don’t think it’s possible.”
David stifled a yawn. “To rest?”
“To escape. I’ve search every inch of this room. Can’t find a way out.” Cyrus rapped his knuckles against the smooth wall. “I don’t even know what this stuff is. It’s warm to the touch and it glows, but it’s nothing I’ve ever seen before.” He slumped to the floor. “I think this is it. We’re done for.”
“We’ll figure something out.”
Cyrus rubbed red eyes. “Not this time. Don’t you get it? Alexander has spent years planning this. The Whispers even longer. How can we fight them, let alone hope to win this war?”
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