Divine Born

by O. J. Lowe

  “He’s still alive,” Subtractor said. “Though I cannot help you with that. He is the current property of Criffen. Wherever Criffen goes, Ulikku ultimately goes as well. Though how much anything they can pull off Ulikku is worth these days, I don’t know.”

  “Yes, well…” Rocastle sounded annoyed, a hint of petulance in his voice at the interruption.

  “You’re welcome. I moved swiftly,” Subtractor said. “You’d have lost a lab if not for my efforts. I managed to get into position, take one of the Ista Neroux and wipe out the team. They think it was a trap and they got caught up in it. They’re not going to quickly trust anything Ulikku says again.”

  THE TRUTH AWAITS YOU. IT MAY NOT BE THE TRUTH YOU SEEK BUT A TRUTH REGARDLESS.

  She tried to hide the hint of pride in the very centre of her being. Her faith in Subtractor was growing by the second. She hadn’t sanctioned his mission, nor his use of the Ista Neroux. They were specialised spirits, the very best, the most powerful in all the kingdoms. They’d been engineered to be the strongest. Two had already been lost, one to Nicholas Roper in the Unialiv, a being that was supposed to all the Unisco invaders when they’d invaded her most personal sanctuary. The Sabuyak had been lost for months, at least until she’d recently seen it at the Quin-C final. It had always been regarded as the runt of the litter, one scheduled for termination. Currently in the care of a noted spirit caller, she’d made the choice to leave it there, curious if he could coax the best out of it.

  “This was a defeat that cost them,” Subtractor continued. “I took the Lazaridis and wiped them out.” She approved. The golden-green serpent was a beast she took exceptional pride in. The camouflage alone was worth every effort they’d put into developing it. When it held still, it was almost undetectable by human senses. Add in the impervious skin and the poisonous jaws, she could almost pity the Unisco team. “One of their best teams and they’re gone in a flash of blood. Nicholas Roper took a hell of a can for that. He’s not going to be a problem for the time being. They want him out the way.”

  He looked over at Mazoud. “Incidentally, do you know a Unisco team entered Vazara recently to investigate your new-found fauna?”

  Mazoud snorted. “Preposterous. I would know. Immigration checks are one of my top priorities. Anyone entered announcing themselves as Unisco agents would have been turned away at the border. And besides, what business do they have in examining a phenomenon like that?”

  “Excuse me?!” Rocastle said. Again, that delicious petulance. “I believe I had the floor.”

  THE TRUTH OF ALL THINGS WILL COME TO YOU. LIFE. DEATH. GOOD. EVIL. THESE ARE JUST WORDS.

  “Continue,” she said, not letting her face betray any emotion as she glanced at him. “You did indeed. Do not interrupt the man until after he has finished enlightening us.”

  “You don’t have to be like that,” Rocastle murmured. She let it go. “Ulikku is lost to us. No great loss. He knew the risks. He was careless. I had high hopes, but he was never likely to succeed. I knew that early on. Unfortunately, some of his lifestyle choices left a lot to be desired where this venture was concerned. We have many more. We can move on. I currently have fifty in my class, fifty potentials marked up by Mister Costa over there. Early evaluations show that maybe half could be ready to be deployed at the end of the year. The rest may not pass muster.” He shrugged, as if he were trying to read the inscrutable expression on her face. She’d kept it blank. Inside, she wasn’t impressed by his predictions of numbers. She wanted better results than a guaranteed half. A lot better. Still, the days were early. Give it time, maybe the yield could be improved. “I only have so much time to bring about my personal brand of experience to their lives, I’m working day and night with some of them, but they still won’t learn. They won’t cast aside their empathy for their fellow human and it sickens me.” He said empathy like it was a disgusting word, almost spat it out as if it left a foul taste on his tongue. “It must be cut out of them and I am the knife to do it. Leave them with me, Mistress. They’ll do, or they’ll die.”

  “Remember, a true teacher gets through to the unteachable. Not just those that want to learn,” she said, not meaning it as an admonishment. Knowing him, he’d probably take it that way though. She wasn’t pussyfooting around his emotions. She didn’t have time. If she stroked his ego every time, she’d never get anything done.

  “I’m curious as to what even qualifies you to do it.” Fuller finally spoke up. Unlike Rocastle, her feelings towards Alana were cordial, warm even. The woman had proven herself countless times. She’d been her right hand at Reims. She’d kept Ritellia close during the Quin-C, at great personal humiliation to herself. Apart from Domis, Fuller remained the one she trusted the most. She’d earned it. If she were to baulk, she’d have done it before now.

  NEVER SHALL YOU KNOW PEACE UNTIL YOU REACH THE END OF THE ROAD. IF YOU EVER REACH THIS PLACE AGAIN, IT WILL BE AS A SUCCESS.

  “Dear Alana, the council whore,” Rocastle said, his face contorted into the rictus of a grin, the curves at the corners of his mouth so wicked they might have been slashed in with a blade. “Remind me what you bring to this whole operation again? Other than fucking Ritellia to death, I don’t think you’ve made one single…”

  “Harvey!” she warned, stepping in. Fuller looked furious. Claudia knew she’d started to carry a blaster, there’d been threats against her life because of her tryst with Ritellia, and even though no harm would befall her here, she thought it might change the atmosphere of the meeting if she blasted Rocastle through the face with it. “Ms Fuller has my full backing. She has the most important role of you all. Because after all, without credits, everything grinds to a halt. Would you like to enlighten us, my dear?”

  “As we all know, the Senate clamped down on Reims,” Alana eventually said, patting her lips with her tongue to moisten them. “That was no great loss. All our Mistress’ capital had already gone from it. About the only thing of value that was left with it was the name and that value was lost about the same time our efforts came into the open. I’ve been apportioned some of that fortune, my orders have been to ensure that we have a fresh stream of revenue coming in where we can get it. Reims made millions every day. Though the investments have not yet paid off anything like that, I believe it is only a matter of time before we can strike back from the financial shadows.”

  It had been the only job she would have trusted Alana with. The funds, while not exhausted yet, would soon be in danger if they didn’t get some replenishment in. Hence Alana quietly buying up controlling interests in companies that looked like they’d be going places soon. Especially weapons and transport. The militaries were going to want better and better in both and that meant a boom was coming, one that had been steadily building ever since the start of this whole damn war. When the boom came, she’d profit from the other side. A genius effort on her part, she had to admit.

  SHOULD YOU REACH THIS CHAMBER AGAIN, WE WILL DISCUSS MORE. YOU KNOW WHAT YOU MUST DO, EVEN IF YOU ARE NOT AWARE THAT YOU DO.

  She didn’t expect anything from Sinkins. Subtractor would say his piece shortly, in additions to the ones he’d already made amidst other’s declarations. Hota stood up, cleared his throat. “Jutht a quick note,” he said with his lisp. “Thubject Apex. Firtht trial was a thucceth. We thent her after the traitor Davith Teela. He hath been terminated. With prejudith. Hith part in Rebirth will not be mithed. Already I theek a replathement.”

  Betrayal sickened her. She was trying to change the kingdoms for the better and the idea that her people grow a conscience all of a sudden was unhelpful.

  “Thank you, Doctor Hota,” she said. Apex had been a gamble, one that looked certain to come good sooner rather than later. Rebirth was even more of a risk, but she had high hopes for it. Only she and Hota knew in this room. Not even Domis had been informed. “Most helpful.”

  He smiled at her, sat back in his seat. That only left…

  “Master Carson,” she said. “You’ve been q
uiet amidst all this.”

  The Vedo master raised his head and studied her. Her own personal Vedo, as tarnished and ruined as he might be. He owed her. That was what he believed. He’d made a deal and his own personal sense of honour compelled him to follow it to the end. He didn’t like it though. She could tell that with minimal effort. For a man like him, sullying himself with the likes of her must be true torment. If he was conflicted, she didn’t care. She’d helped him in his darkest hour and now he could help her through her most trying times. He’d had nothing, and she’d given him something back, a purpose he’d desired. He proclaimed to be a man of his word and he’d given his word that he’d help her. He could swallow down any conflict he might have within himself.

  “I have been listening to what you all say, I truly find myself wondering if you have considered every possible ramification of what you set out to do. You speak and speak like this like the kingdoms are your enemy, you preach war as your own personal weapon, the people like enemy combatants. They are not. You’re dragging them into something that none of them want to be a part of. You think they care, truly, whether you win or not? Most just want to live their lives.”

  “Your point, Master Carson?” she asked. If she’d had something in her hand, she’d have been tapping it listlessly against the table right now. “I’m assuming you’re going to make one.”

  “People are going to die, that is the natural order of things of course. The old must die, the new must replace them. It has always been and always will. My point is that there’s a right way to win and a wrong way.”

  “You know what I must say to that?” she said. “The victory is all that matters. We can move from there. If there’s a cost to it, so be it.”

  YOUR CONVICTION WILL GUIDE YOU. FOLLOW YOUR HEART ALL THE WAY. YOUR INSTINCTS MAY MISLEAD YOU BUT FALTER YOU MUST NOT FOR FAIL YOU THEY CANNOT.

  He shook his head. “A victory with a solid foundation will always trump one that was built on sand. If you slaughter half the population indiscriminately to achieve it, you’ll be laying down the embers of your own destruction before you’ve even begun. Wipe out your enemy’s army if you must but I hear stories of how fleeing civilians were gunned down.”

  “This is true,” Mazoud said proudly. “They didn’t welcome us as conquerors…”

  “They saw you as invaders, you ass,” Carson said. “Armed invaders shooting anything that moved. I’d run too. What did you expect them to do?”

  “It is the nature of all true Vazarans to embrace what I did in ensuring that Nwakili was removed from power. I have given the kingdom its independence back.”

  “You’ve exposed it to attack,” Carson said. “You have discontent now, you’ll have insurrections tomorrow. A week from now, you’ll have rebellions and give it a month, you’ll have civil war if you carry on down this path.”

  “With the greatest of respect, Carson, I could care less of the word of some fraudulent shaman,” Mazoud said. “Where are you, hiding down some hole in Serran? You…”

  His eyes bulged, his words cut off with a choke. Wim Carson’s holographic form studied him, one hand extended up in a pincer motion.

  “Fraudulent, you say?” he asked. There was no mistaking the exaggerated politeness in his voice for anything other than a threat. “Because you cannot comprehend the intricacies of anything that is not spelled out for you in bright colours and one-syllable words, I feel the need to avoid explaining myself to you. We are all connected, Mazoud. It’s the reason I can reach out and touch you from a kingdom away. I could kill you if I desired.”

  “Release him! Now!” Claudia said, though the temptation to allow him to continue was there. “If you kill him, I’ll have to find another Premier for Vazara and I don’t think he’s outlived his usefulness just yet. Master Carson, you’ve made your point, let him go!”

  This was the test, she thought. If Carson obeyed her, she’d be fine. If he defied her for a few moments longer or even failed to let up at all, the first cracks would have appeared in her domination.

  For a second, she was left wondering. Carson lowered his hand and Mazoud dropped to all fours, gasping for air, his eyes bulging and tears streaming from them.

  “You dare lay a hand on the Premier of Vazara!” he snarled. “I’ll have you killed for this!”

  “I think you’ll find that I didn’t touch you,” Carson smiled. “Did anyone see me touch him? As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted… Anyone else want to do that by the way?” He playfully waggled his fingers and she saw the light in his eyes, the spark of madness that would blow them all up given the chance. She wondered how in control he truly was of himself. “There’s a right way to do it and a wrong way. For now, I look to other threats that might fall upon you beyond Unisco, Madam Coppinger. I look for weapons to combat them, I look for men and women beyond what you have. Because some things cannot be created or manipulated, they can only be forged amidst a fire.”

  He bowed his head. “I have nothing more to say.”

  Before she could say anything else to him, the comms beeped on her desk and she hit the button to reply. “Copy?”

  “Mistress? We’ve arrived at your coordinates. We hope to locate the wreckage of the Aerius very shortly.”

  She cut the contact, smiled at the room. “This has been a productive use of our time. Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe we have a pressing issue to deal with imminently. Let’s split for the time being, we will meet again very soon. I think you’ve been kept apart long enough. If we are to succeed, we will do it together. Not as individuals. Thank you for your time, ladies and gentlemen. The best of luck on all your endeavours and may we meet again under more fortuitous circumstances.”

  Chapter Seven. The Broken Man.

  “I’m putting you in charge of this program. I think you’ve got potential, Mister Rocastle. You recruited quite a bunch of these people involved in it, therefore I think it’s only right you should have a part in what they become. They’re your responsibility now. Let’s see if you can impress me. I suggest you don’t dwell on what will happen to you if you don’t. It’s good to avoid distractions. A busy mind does that. You’re in charge of the Angel’s program now. The conditioning will take care of itself. I want you to forge them into my sword and my spear. You’re going to be far too busy to dwell on your obsession with… Well, you know who. I’m not going to say her name.”

  Claudia Coppinger to Harvey Rocastle, months ago on his promotion.

  The holograms faded, and the Mistress was first out the door, Harvey Rocastle leaned back in his seat and stroked his silken chin with his unruined hand. He tried not to acknowledge the other one any longer, not more than he had to certainly. It disgusted him if he was truthful. He’d always had beautiful hands, big but not too big and a certain smoothness to them that hid what he’d used them for too many times. He was an artist and his hands were an extension of his soul, he always dreamed of the day when he’d wrap them around some poor little bitch’s throat and squeeze and squeeze until he felt her slut body go limp under his touch.

  Those days had been too few and too far between. He’d always held himself back, too scared of the consequences of getting caught. He knew that if he started, he’d never stop, he was lucky that he’d gotten away with it as long as he had before they’d started to know his name. Anonymity was one thing he’d never wanted but at the same time, he’d known that it had its perks. When nobody knew your name, nobody looked for you. Nobody wanted to find you. Nobody wanted to look for you. Nobody wanted you dead.

  There were too many who wanted him dead in these times. He had a feeling that the Mistress only kept him alive out of loyalty and the moment he betrayed her, she’d put him down. Worse, she’d probably have that big goon, Domis, do it. There was no fighting someone like him. Harvey didn’t know who or what Domis really was, but he couldn’t be human, not entirely. He’d suspected he might be a Vedo or have some element of that power but as time went by, it appeared increasing
ly unlikely. He’d even asked Carson about it, that smug self-proclaimed expert and he’d come up empty in answers.

  Typical. Couldn’t rely on anyone except himself.

  His stump ached, he glanced down at his leg, tried to avoid thinking about it. He could remember it being broken, could recall the snap as it had shattered. Still suffered from the memories of the way the bone had torn through his skin. Nicholas fucking Roper. When he thought of the beating he’d been given, he felt the stabs of anger rushing through him. He was glad that he’d killed his bitch fiancé. His only regrets were that he hadn’t dragged it out longer, that she hadn’t suffered more, that he hadn’t taken that fancy laser sword of hers and cut her skin off inch by inch, maimed and mutilated her until she was unrecognisable.

  Roper might have broken it. The Mistress had taken it though. She’d ordered Hota to amputate while he was unconscious, passed out before he’d been broken by the pain. Hota, being the good little endroid, hadn’t hesitated. Harvey had to give the doctor credit though, he’d helped him through the physiotherapy that had followed. Those first steps with his new leg had been hard, it had just felt so alien, so different to what he’d been used to. He felt clumsy and ungainly, he wept for the grace he’d had before and lost now. Light footsteps were always going to be replaced with the ugly clump the foot made when it came down on the ground. There’d been nights when he’d lain with the sheets at the base of the bed, silent tears streaming down his face as he stared at his stump.

  The wounds to his hand hadn’t affected him as badly as this. He’d lost a few fingers to that little bitch they’d kept locked up, the one that they’d found on the mountain, but that had been down to his own carelessness. Finger prosthetics weren’t as bad once you got used to them. After six months, the false skin had become barely indistinguishable from his own, taken on the same colour, the same texture worn down by hours of activity. Should they cease working, it didn’t impede movement. When his cybernetic leg had once ceased working, he’d fallen over right in front of his class and their silent laughter had rung through his ears as they took in his moment of humiliation. There’d been no sound, any of them who had shown audible mirth would have been punished. He’d have seen to that if it was the last thing he’d ever done. It wouldn’t have been a swift punishment either, death by inches. He’d seen it in some of their faces as his trousers had ripped, the lower half of his leg left stood at the front of the classroom while he was flat on his face.