The Sons of Sora

by Paul Tassi

  What are we doing here? he asked himself. For revenge. For glory. For family. Everything his brother had set forth as reasons seemed so petty now in the face of certain death.

  You’ll see her again, he thought. But his faith had been shaken so many times over the past few months that he wasn’t even sure he believed that anymore. Yet still he prayed. He hadn’t stopped praying for most of the flight. It had kept him safe so far. But not her, said the voice.

  They were inside the larger ship now and could see nothing in the hangar bay. A rustle of whispers and they decided they should probably move toward the exit bay, but before they could, they were deafened by the shearing of metal.

  Noah watched in amazement and horror as the entire viewscreen and nose of the ship was pulled off of the transport by an unseen force. The rusted metal tore like paper, and once it was all shorn away, the entire front half of the CIC, including all the controls to the ship, was flung into the darkness in the corner of the hangar. All of them were untouched.

  “Forward,” came the voice, needles and knives in Noah’s head.

  The five of them walked cautiously into the darkness, where they found the creature they sought.

  Noah had only seen the Archon during his brief video message to Sora, but in person he was far more imposing, even unarmored and unarmed. His skin shimmered like it was wet, and he was taller and lankier than most Xalans. His claws were long, thin razors, and he had no sharp Xalan teeth, as he had no mouth at all. There were no rings in his eyes, only a swirl of stars of every color, and no color. They said he wasn’t Xalan at all, but he had to be on some level. For every difference from a typical Xalan, there were two similarities. The thing in front of him … didn’t make sense. And that’s what chilled him the most.

  “You are accompanied by quite a vanguard,” the Archon said, looking over the group of them. They were all armed to the teeth, each with hands hovering over their weapons of choice. Noah had his hammer and a rifle, Erik his pistols, Asha her Magnum and sword. Even Alpha had a scattergun. Only Lucas was unarmed. Perhaps it was certain death to bear arms against the Archon, but they had to try. Noah waited for a signal to attack, but Lucas simply stared at the Archon.

  “They are my family,” Lucas said.

  “More humans.” The Archon nodded. “And this new ‘Chancellor’ among them. They will join you by ascending to immortality soon enough. I see you are making great strides with your transformation.”

  The blackness had reached Lucas’s jawline now. His blue eyes blazed angrily.

  “And you,” the Archon said, turning to Alpha. “You have caused me many problems these past years. Your whole clan had so much promise. It was a shame to execute them for treason.”

  Alpha glowered at him. “You claim they died at your hand?”

  “There is nothing that has occurred in the history of Xala that was not at my hand,” the Archon said.

  It was clear Alpha didn’t know quite what to make of that, but he seethed all the same.

  “I suppose you mean to kill me,” the Archon continued, sounding almost bored. “Go on, make your attempt.”

  Asha didn’t need to be asked twice. She raised her Magnum, but she was the only one. Noah found himself frozen, unable to lift his rifle. Alpha and Erik struggled similarly to aim their own weapons. Asha’s finger hovered over the Magnum’s trigger, but she couldn’t fire.

  Noah hated this feeling. It was exactly how he was rendered helpless as the Corsair killed Kyra. He strained every muscle, but received nothing for his effort but pain. The psionic power of the Archon was too much to bear.

  But then there was Lucas. Somehow, he’d found a way past the Archon’s influence and dove at the creature. Noah saw the glint of a black blade that had been hidden in the armor plating of his forearm, and it raced toward the Archon’s galactic eye faster than Noah could even process.

  But it didn’t reach its target. Noah blinked and the Archon was a foot to the left, grabbing Lucas by the neck and slamming him into the ground. The Archon stamped down on his arm which shattered the plating, the blade, and probably the bone, judging by how Lucas cried out.

  “Futile, as ever,” the Archon said, his voice echoing in all their minds. “I will grow tired of this quickly, so I will ensure we can avoid this sort of occurrence going forward.”

  He looked toward Asha’s Magnum, which was still pointed where the Archon had been standing moments earlier, her finger millimeters from the trigger.

  The Archon’s eyes brightened momentarily as he mentally pulled the weapon from her grasp, and it floated in the air in front of all of them. Noah was still frozen, but his eyes followed the slowly drifting gun as it came to rest in the air in front of the Archon.

  And then the gun came apart. It didn’t break or shatter; it simply started to disassemble itself in midair. The barrel, grip, trigger, hammer, the ammunition chamber, and fifty other pieces Noah couldn’t identify slowly detached themselves from one another and floated separately in the air. Asha’s eyes widened. Noah knew she’d had that weapon since Earth, though she’d never shared the exact significance of it.

  Suddenly every piece clattered to the ground except one, the barrel. It twisted in the air as the Archon observed it, and then suddenly bits and pieces of it started falling away from it. The metal barrel was being sliced like a vegetable, and incredibly thin rings of metal cascaded to the ground as it grew smaller and smaller until there were only two identical rings left. As they rotated, they were so thin, they could barely be seen when they turned sideways.

  “It seems the millions at Elyria are not enough to stay your hands. Perhaps this will be.”

  The rings, no bigger than a coin and thinner than a razor, disappeared from sight. Then, they reappeared, floating in the air once more. But this time as the light caught them, they glistened red.

  Noah felt a twinge of pain in his neck, just above the collar of his armor. He touched the spot, and when he pulled his fingers back, saw a small smear of red. He look over at his Erik, who also had his hand at a similar point next to his throat. When he took it away, Noah saw a small, thin red line on his brother’s neck, but there was no blood spilling from it. He touched his own cut again, and this time, the wound was dry.

  “What—” he began.

  Lucas and Asha were looking frantically between the two of them.

  “What did you do?” Lucas growled. It felt like a bee sting. Noah didn’t understand.

  “To ensure our next endeavor proceeds without incident, I have severed arteries in your sons’ necks.”

  The two razor discs dropped to the floor and clinked lightly next to the other pieces of the Magnum scattered there.

  “I don’t—” Noah tried again. He felt almost no pain at all. And there was no more blood. How—

  “They continue to live only because I now guide the blood through their detached veins with psionic force. Such a task requires precise, constant concentration.”

  Lucas’s eyes narrowed.

  “Another outburst like before and they will die in seconds if you cause me to shift my attention to defend myself,” the Archon continued.

  Noah clutched the wound instinctively, though he knew that his life was now literally in the hands of the creature before him. The blood still coursed on a proper path through a torn artery because the Archon willed it. This was a power this world, any world, had never known.

  Noah was shaking. He couldn’t help himself. Erik had gone pale as the moon, and kept touching the sliver of a cut, checking for fresh blood. There was none.

  “What … do you … want,” Lucas said slowly, every muscle tense, his chest heaving with rage.

  “Your cooperation,” the Archon said coolly. “And when I have it, your sons will be healed. I would not waste such prize human specimens on petty spite or vengeance. Your kind has proven too valuable.”

  “So valuable you killed our entire planet,” Asha said.

  “I was unaware of the potential of yo
ur subspecies,” the Archon replied, turning his stone gaze toward her. “The Earth campaign was rife with unfortunate errors I do not mean to repeat.”

  “What are you, demon?” Alpha growled.

  “Come,” the Archon said, turning away and walking into the darkness of the ship, “and you will learn.”

  40

  His cell inside the ship was pure light, a five-sided box of searing forcefields that even Lucas with all his power couldn’t hope to get past. Only the floor was metal—pure darksteel that had to be at least six feet thick. Lucas supposed with enough time and effort he could break through it and tear the entire ship apart with his bare hands, hoping the Archon would die in the ensuing fiery crash. But there was Elyria to consider, and now his family.

  Why did you let them come? he thought. Of course they would become hostages.

  But he knew it could have been far worse if there were no one there with him. He felt like he was losing himself more and more with each passing minute. And who could bring him back from the brink if not his family? He often found his mind wandering and warping as of late, but one look at them snapped him back into reality. He needed them here, but hated that their lives were at risk.

  They were all in danger anyway, he supposed. Nowhere was safe now. But still, Colony One or the Colossus wouldn’t have left his sons seconds away from death.

  They’re strong boys, they’ll endure, he told himself. But he was fearful all the same.

  The others had all been separated and imprisoned elsewhere, the Archon promising their destination was close at hand. Lucas had no idea what to expect, but was preparing himself, trying to hold together the slipping pieces of his sanity.

  “Fight it,” came a voice in the darkness outside the searing yellow light of the cage. The hair stood up on the back of Lucas’s neck. It was a voice he knew. “Trust me, you won’t like what happens when it takes over.”

  Mars Maston walked through the incinerating wall of light like it wasn’t even there. Maston, not the Corsair. The man in front of him was as tall and dashing as he ever was in life, skin tanned, eyes brown, hair curled and jet black. He was wearing the military dress blues he’d donned when Lucas first met him during the Earth Gala, all those years ago, full of stiff, straight lines and gleaming medals. His dark eyes flashed; his face betrayed a hint of a smile.

  “Is this real?” Lucas said, head reeling. “Or am I completely lost now?”

  Maston shrugged.

  “The definition of ‘real’ is a bit perplexing here. It’s a strange place, this Circle.”

  Another vision from the Circle then, like the Desecrator and Omicron before him. But this was no monster, it was the man.

  “But you’re you,” Lucas said stupidly. “Like you were before. Weren’t you only a clone? Didn’t the Archon drive you insane?”

  Maston nodded and slowly walked around the cramped space, staring up at the corners of the cube. He cast no shadow in the light of the cage.

  “Things are much clearer on the other side. I suppose that thing that died wasn’t really me, but it had all my memories. All his memories, however you want to say it. As I said, it’s a bit confusing.”

  “Do you remember, though?” Lucas asked. Maston’s face darkened and Lucas knew the answer before he spoke.

  “It feels like a bad dream, but I know it happened. So many dead at my hand. You’ve only seen the aftermath of what the Archon forced me to do. Imagine living through it, unable to change course.”

  “I have,” Lucas said, remembering the thousands he’d killed at the listening post.

  Maston shook his head. “I know what you’ve done, but it still pales in comparison to the chaos I’ve wrought. And then, the girl. That … young Cora. A clone?”

  “A clone, yes, but more than that,” Lucas said soberly.

  “That was the most tragic of all.”

  “For you, or her?”

  Maston stared into the nothingness outside the cell, his gaze a thousand miles away.

  “She almost brought me back. Just for a moment. But then the madness returned, and killed her. My death was a mercy after that.”

  Maston looked away.

  “I’m not here about that. We need to talk.”

  “You want to be free of the Circle too, then,” Lucas said, already knowing where this was going.

  Maston nodded and folded his arms.

  “And you know what has to happen,” he said.

  Lucas picked nervously at the black skin on his wrist.

  “Believe me, our goals are the same, but how do you kill an immortal?”

  Maston shook his head.

  “Not immortal. Though that’s what he’d have you believe.”

  “Do you know what he is, then?” Lucas asked.

  “I know enough,” Maston said, “to know he can be killed. The rest you’ll discover soon.”

  “What am I supposed to do?” Lucas asked. “I’m talking to thin air, and about to become the next … you.”

  “You’re different,” Maston said coolly. “But you already know that. You’re all they talk about here, you know.”

  Lucas looked around, and a jolt ran through him as he saw electric blue eyes blinking in the darkness around the lightcell. There were dozens.

  “They’re here?”

  “We’re always here,” Maston said. “And most of us want the same thing. The Archon executed many ‘disloyal’ Shadows after the resistance took up arms. Only a few survived like your friend Tau.”

  “That’s what Omicron and the Desecrator were saying, though it’s hard to trust two monsters that tried to kill you.”

  “Trust me, then,” Maston said sharply. “The Archon must die, and you’re the only one who can kill him.”

  Lucas shook his head violently.

  “How?” he said loudly, his arms lifting from his sides. “I did what the Desecrator said. I know my pain inside and out, enough to resist him. But it’s not enough.”

  “Of course resistance isn’t enough, it’s only the first step,” Maston shot back.

  “What’s the second, then?”

  There were whispers in the shadows around them. Blue eyes blinked. Lucas swore he caught a flash of a pair of orange rings in the black.

  “They think that the Circle can be bent before it’s broken,” Maston said. “With enough power. Your power.”

  “Bent?” Lucas asked, cocking his head. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean bent,” Maston said, and streaked his finger along the lightcell wall. It made a trail and a low hiss, with just a tiny wisp of smoke. Lucas’s eyes widened. Did he—

  “But more is required,” Maston said, passing his hand through Lucas’s arm. He felt a dull chill, but nothing more.

  “There’s no more power to find, no more pain to draw on,” Lucas said.

  More whispers. Maston glared at the eyes in the darkness.

  “They laugh at me,” he said. “But I know the way forward.”

  “What way?” Lucas asked.

  “In my final moments, I did something I never thought I could.”

  He paused, and gazed at the floor.

  “I let go.”

  Lucas was confused.

  “Let go of what?”

  “All of it,” Maston said. “Cora, Tulwar, Talis, Vitalla, Rhylos, Makari, everything. All of it. All the pain.”

  Lucas remained silent.

  “In that final second, I felt power like I never had before. I was myself again, or whoever Mars Maston used to be. I was transformed.”

  “But you died,” Lucas said.

  “But what if I hadn’t? What if you don’t?” Maston pressed. “What if the key to true power isn’t simply hoarding pain, but releasing it?”

  More whispers and Maston shot the unseen Shadows a sharp look.

  “All I know is what I felt in that moment, and that I stand before you now a man, not a monster.”

  “Are you telling me it’s a cure?” Lucas asked, incredulous.


  “A cure, a weapon, both, neither. I can’t say for sure. But these other fools have no better ideas, clinging to the notions the Archon himself implanted in them.”

  “What happens then, if I bend the Circle?” Lucas asked.

  “Who can say?” Maston shrugged. “But it’s a better alternative to simply letting the pain consume you and allowing the transformation to complete. You’ll kill millions without even knowing it, and there may be no hope for you, nor anyone you love after that.”

  “But there was for you.”

  “I saw a glimmer of what was possible,” Maston said. “But that shard of light was enough to convince me there’s a way out of the darkness for all of us. Let the pain go, if you can. It may only be possible facing certain death, but I imagine that will happen often, given what’s about to take place.”

  “Where is he taking us?” Lucas asked.

  “To the truth,” Maston said. “And that will change everything if you survive this war.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You don’t have to, yet. But remember what I said. That’s why I came here. I don’t know if I’m the friend you once had, but I feel like the man I was, that’s all I can say. If you ever trusted him, trust me.”

  And with that, Mars Maston turned and walked through the wall of light, and the blue eyes slowly snapped shut all around the room. Lucas was alone again.

  There wasn’t much time to reflect on anything Maston had said. Soon enough, the ship lurched to a halt, and Lucas’s stomach jumped as the ship rapidly descended. The craft touched down softly on the earth. One by one, the light walls flickered, then faded. There were no eyes in the darkness this time.

  The opposite door opened with a labored groan, and Lucas walked off his prison platform toward a lit hallway. He followed the lights to an exit where he found everyone else waiting for him already.

  Asha, Alpha, and his sons were there, standing in the red dust of Rhylos, hands clamped in metal bindings. Noah and Erik still had red slices on their necks, but there was only dry blood around the wounds. The Archon stood next to them, beckoning Lucas to exit the ship. When he did, the sight of his surroundings sent a chill surging through him.