by Nick James
He shook his head. “You could have done so much more.”
She paused for a moment in silence before continuing. “I’ve failed you, Cassius. I know you think me too prideful to make such an admission, but it’s true. I’m understanding that more and more. Each time I see you in action, I see my own shortcomings.”
“Is this supposed to make me feel better?”
“No,” she said. “We’re past that now, aren’t we? No one feels good about anything anymore. We simply carry on.”
Cassius continued to look out into the night. Part of him wanted to flip the Ridium up over his eyes, just to get away from her, but he didn’t.
“I’m not an apologetic person,” Madame continued. “You know that, I’m sure. I wouldn’t have been able to get where I am today defending myself at every turn. But it doesn’t matter anymore. What use is power if there’s no one to wield it over? The Unified Party is in ruin. It may never be rebuilt. We’ve seen tragedy before, but nothing on this scale.”
Cassius’s brows rose. “If you’ve come here looking for someone to make you feel better, you can save your breath.”
“No,” she replied. “I’m not that naïve. I’ve come to apologize, Cassius, for all I’ve done to you. For your entire life. For the façade I put up when you were younger, for the secrets I kept, and for using and abusing you these past few months. I was drunk on my own ambition. I couldn’t see clearly.” She paused. “I hope you appreciate how difficult this is for me to say.”
He shook his head, chuckling. “It’s always about you.”
Madame sighed. “There was a time, before Pearls started falling. Before the Scarlet Bombings. I was young. The government was already fragmented. The country was like a jigsaw puzzle, so close to falling into fragments. Many of us didn’t want to see that happen. People like myself. People like Jeremiah Alkine.
“I was idealistic.” She scoffed. “Such a long time ago. I thought I could serve my people. Little did I know that serving anyone was not in my nature. Battle lines were already drawn deep when I arrived at the White House. Had our country been spared the initial attack from Haven—had we been forced to work together without the luxury of Pearls—that idealism I felt might have been enough to sew up the fractures. But idealism is the first thing to go when confronted with the horrors of war.” She paused. “Stark realism, and a need to survive. That’s what I am now. That need quickly turned to desperation. Desperation turned to cold, calculated apathy. That’s what I was when you came into my life, Cassius. I’d changed, and it wasn’t something even you could undo.”
He shook his head. “That’s a nice story, but I don’t buy it.”
Her head bowed. She sighed. “Fine. I’m trying, Cassius. I don’t want this to end without some sort of understanding between the two of us.”
He closed his eyes, concentrating on the pulse of the Ridium against his body. It trembled along his skin, spiking upward and out, looping and arching in varying directions like he was some kind of moving art installation. When he opened his eyes again, the substance had settled. “I think it’s too late for that.”
Madame nodded. “I see. Well, I can tell you this much. That old adage they say is correct. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. Take it from someone who experienced it firsthand. Be careful what you do, Cassius. The road to forgiveness is long, and doesn’t always end in the manner you’d hope it would.”
With that, she moved back into the house, leaving him alone with his thoughts. A gust of wind brushed past him. He hardly noticed. Within seconds, he forgot about her and returned to his post. Waiting.
32
I stand in the doorway to my dorm room, hair still wet from the shower, wearing a fresh set of Academy clothing.
As I stare into the room, I notice how small and dirty it is. Nothing’s been tampered with since I last left it. The bed is unmade, blankets sculpted in hollow peaks. The blinds to the window are drawn, though lines of sunlight poke through, especially in the bent places.
That’s where I head first, to open them and let some light in.
Savon enters the room after me. I watch his good eye appraise the place. I can’t tell from his expression what he’s thinking. Not that it really matters.
“This is it,” I say, somewhat embarrassed. “This is where I grew up. Well, for the last few years at least. I used to have a room down on the … ” I trail off. He doesn’t care about these kind of details. Why would he?
My father takes a seat at the edge of my bed, finding the one spot where the blankets actually lie flat.
“Jesse,” he starts, “your brother is getting closer.”
I drop the wand connected to the blinds. “Cassius? How do you know?”
“I sense it,” he says. “Ever since we left the ground, I’ve had this feeling, like a homing signal in my gut. I don’t know what happened, but he’s coming to us. This is good news.”
“I hope you’re right.” I push a pile of clothes into the corner with my foot. “Listen, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something. I’ve been having these dreams. They started a few days ago, but back on the Surface, after I passed out, I saw the visions again.”
“Visions?”
“Fire,” I say. “I’m in the middle of it. Before, Cassius had always controlled it. But this last time, he wasn’t even there until the end. And then … then he came running at me. Right at me. And he sorta disappeared. The fire turned green, like a Pearl, and that was it.”
Savon nods, though he doesn’t look at me. “I wouldn’t put too much stock in dreams, Jesse. You’ve been under a lot of stress lately. We all have. Your subconscious is likely to play tricks on you.”
“See, normally that’s what I’d say.” I cross my arms. “But the past few months, these kind of dreams always lead to something. They’re not normal.”
“Sit.” He motions to his side, waiting for me to join him. “Before long, we’ll be joined in battle. There won’t be time to talk … only to fight. I want you to know, Jesse … you and Cassius both.” He pauses.
“I haven’t been around to watch you grow up. Trust me when I say there’s nothing I would have rather done than follow you to Earth immediately. But it wasn’t to be. Still, I have a great deal of respect for you and what you’ve been through. I know it wasn’t easy, what your mother and I asked of you, but our hands were forced. We needed to get you to safety, and we needed a way to ensure our allies would be able to fight against the Authority.”
I nod. “I understand.”
“All the sacrifices we made,” he continues. “All the doubt you harbored, will be for nothing if we let Matigo win. You and Cassius, you mean the world to me. So promise me this.”
“Anything,” I say.
“When the battle is upon us”—he turns to me—“look out for each other. It is vital that neither one of you falls. Absolutely vital.”
“Yeah,” I reply. “I get it. Neither one of us wants to fail.”
“No,” he says. “You must stay close. The Key and the—”
“Catalyst,” I finish.
“Yes,” he says. “Stay close to me.”
I rub the back of my shoulder, trying to work out a twisted muscle. “Of course.”
He nods. “Together, you’re stronger than anything. Alone, you’re a scared child. And scared children don’t win wars.”
I grit my teeth. “So that’s why we’re waiting for Cassius.”
“Yes,” he replies. “That’s why.”
“And if he doesn’t come?”
Savon stands. “He will.”
I nod, taking a deep breath as my gaze falls to the floor. “What’s the first thing we’re going to do, after the war?”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s a stupid question,” I continue. “I know. I just … I can’t help thinking about what happens after the Authority is gone. We have … we have a whole life together. How’s it going to be?”
Savon rests his chin in h
is hands. “I … I suppose we’ll remain on Earth. Find your mother, if that’s what fate has in store.”
“There’s so much I can show you,” I say. “There’s … this whole world is new to you, right?”
He nods.
“Cassius and I … we can both show you what it’s like to be on Earth.”
“I’d like that.”
I bite my lip, shoulders slumping. “Me too. That would be … that would be pretty flaunt, huh?” I glance around the room as I try to think of what to say to him next. “There’s nothing special in here, I guess. You want to see where I used to train?”
“Of course,” he says. “Show me your ship. It’s best to know your surroundings in case of an emergency, right?”
“Yeah.” I stand and head for the door. “Yeah, of course.”
As we walk into the hallway, the image of our family won’t leave my mind. What will we all look like together? How can we possibly live a normal life after all that’s happened?
Then I remember. Cassius doesn’t even know that Savon’s alive. We’ve been out of contact for so long. I can’t imagine what his reaction will be when he finds us, but I can’t wait to see it. Having him here will make everything seem real.
Just as I close the door, I hear a beep from the com-pad Alkine gave me before leaving. He’s ready for us.
I look up to my father. “Guess we’ll have to take a rain check on that grand tour. We’ve got a meeting with Alkine.”
“So be it.”
“This way.” I motion. “The elevators are the fastest. You don’t want to be late when Captain Alkine calls. Trust me.”
Savon follows me. “I’m not worried about your captain, Jesse. I’ve survived years under the Authority’s rule. I doubt whether anything could intimidate me.”
I laugh. “Okay, then. Well, he still scares the crap out of me. So let’s hustle.”
33
Cassius took a seat at the edge of the porch, fighting the lure of sleep. He had only thirty minutes more before Eva arrived to take over lookout, and he wanted to make the most of it.
He opened a slot in the Ridium suit to get to his pocket. There were still four senso-cubes in there. He knew it wasn’t very safe to go off into a memory when he was supposed to be keeping watch over the house, but he told himself that they would be quick. And more than that, they would be important. The first two had already shown him so much. More than anything, he craved to learn what had happened to his parents. The Authority had captured them. Had they escaped? He was desperate to find out.
With that thought, he delved into the first cube. It turned out to be a disappointment, sharing no more than an extended look at a street corner, most likely a sliver of one of Haven’s vast cities. While initially fascinating, given the strange, free-flowing architecture and the crowds of interestingly dressed civilians, it didn’t offer any answers. Cassius could barely even make out individual conversations. The city was so bustling and noisy.
The next two cubes offered looks at similar scenes— shots of buildings and the interiors of hallways. Whispered conversations too quiet and fast to pick up, even though they’d been translated to English for his brain.
The fourth and final cube, though, held a different story.
At first, he wasn’t sure if it had worked, for the surroundings he found himself in were as dark as the one he’d left on the front porch of the farmhouse.
But soon, he felt trapped. He stood in the corner of a tight room. No windows, no doors that he could see. There were, however, two large objects in the center of the room. Cassius couldn’t make out details, but they seemed to be a pair of tables.
Then, out of nowhere, a voice rumbled through the room.
“This is not a request. A request you can shirk. This is a demand.”
Cassius plastered himself against the wall. He looked down and noticed that he wasn’t wearing the Ridium suit any longer. He felt more vulnerable in normal clothing.
He recognized the voice immediately from another saved memory he’d witnessed. The characteristic boom, the impossible harshness of it. It was Matigo, leader of the Authority. But Matigo wasn’t in the room now. His voice came from speakers, or some similar kind of technology.
“I’m aware that you cannot speak any longer,” the voice continued. “That is fine. I don’t need your words. I already have your voices. What I crave now are your thoughts.”
Cassius continued to look around the room, convinced that there was someone else in there with him. The longer his eyes had to adjust to his surroundings, the more he could see—bottles full of strange liquids lining dusty counters on one wall, sharp tools hanging on another. It was like being stuck in some mad scientist’s underground laboratory.
“Pearls,” Matigo said. “I understand their significance now. Soon, the Authority will have its own armada, twice as strong as your Resistance.” His voice paused, then cut through the silence once more. “It’s not Pearl energy that I’m interested in, it’s Pearlbreakers. The Key and the Catalyst. You’ve found a weapon against my Ridium, haven’t you? A weapon that needs to be destroyed before it becomes a threat to my people.”
Cassius swallowed, listening carefully while trying to work up the courage to venture deeper into the darkness. He knew that nothing in the room could hurt him or even touch him, but he was scared of what he could find if he moved closer to the tables. More than that, he was scared of how helpless he would feel. There was nothing he could do here but watch. And listen.
He took a step forward as Matigo spoke again. “Even now I am pulling the secrets from your brains. Things you’ve forgotten you’ve stored, things you haven’t even told each other … not that it will matter once I’m done.”
He laughed—a dry, hollow sound.
Cassius took another step. The walls vibrated with Matigo’s voice.
“Rest with the knowledge that I’ll find and kill your children just as easily as I’ve captured you. You won’t be around to see it happen, so you’ll have to trust me. Sending them to Earth was a mistake.”
Another step.
Cassius reached out, making sure that he wouldn’t bump into anything in the darkness. As the pair of tables grew closer, he could make out more details. Etchings wound around the sides of the slabs. They’d been carved from some sort of stone, cool to the touch when he ran his fingers across the surface.
Before he had a chance to peer closer, the ceiling lit up. Red.
He bounded backward, shocked by the sudden change in the room. He had to shield his eyes as a powerful crimson glow emanated from somewhere far beyond the ceiling.
It illuminated the bodies on the stone tables.
Cassius forced himself to look down.
He recognized the two of them at once, though he’d only seen one photo back in Seattle when Madame’s Ridium-
constructed box had opened and revealed the image of his parents.
Savon and Adaylla. They were unmistakable, even with the lower half of their faces obscured by heavy clamps and their legs and arms harnessed to the slabs.
They lay on their backs, like human sacrifices to some powerful scarlet god above them. Even though Cassius could see very little skin outside their stained white clothing, he could tell that they were injured. Bruised, beaten up. His father had a black eye, his mother a large scar across her forehead. They both wore large, constricting vests of metal, which weighed their midsections down against the stone. Cassius recognized this particular device as the same one he’d seen in the forest—the weapon the Authority woman had used on the man called Jorbun. The one that had ultimately killed him.
His first instinct was to rush forward, to wrap his fingers around the restraints and try to pull them off, but he knew that it would do no good. This was all in the past. He couldn’t help them. He couldn’t even talk to them.
Matigo’s assured, frustratingly elusive voice came again. “Your allies think you’ve gone into hiding. That’s the message we’ve fed to you
r networks. They won’t know the truth until well after you’re gone.”
Cassius watched his father glance over at his mother, a subtle expression in his eyes that—even though neither could talk—could only mean goodbye.
“It’s a brave battle you’ve waged,” Matigo continued. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. You were simply not up to the challenge.”
Cassius backed away, looking straight up at the glowing red, trying to see past it. Maybe there was an added dimension, the kind he’d seen with the suit of Ridium across his face.
If there was, he couldn’t break through it. The brightness forced his eyes away as Matigo delivered his final words.
“I have what I need,” he said. “It’s been an honor. Say goodbye to all of this.”
“No,” Cassius replied, not even trying to keep his emotions at bay any longer. “No.”
The devices around his parents activated and suddenly the room was filled with a sickly smell as their bodies decomposed right in front of him, reduced to a pile of flesh, bones, and soaking blood that spilled over the sides of the tables.
Cassius reached out a hand as if to pull them back into life. “No.”
With that, the memory dismantled around him, fading into blackness before it was replaced by the horizon of the Fringe Town in front of him. He stood on the porch, bolt upright, and looked out into the night.
His breath was a tangle in his throat. His shoulders heaved. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there before Madame’s voice interrupted his panic.
“Cassius.”
He turned to see her standing in the doorway again, hair messy. Her face was free of glasses—scuffed up and tired. She looked older, somehow.
He stood for a moment, staring at her, saying nothing.
“You shouted,” she whispered, glancing over his shoulder at the darkness beyond.