by T. C. Edge
I look through it all and think of how real some of this is now. When I see a drawing of my character, Queen-Brie, cutting through a bunch of empty eyed enemies, I can only think of the Con-Cops I’ve killed. When I see me fighting a large, black-cloaked spectre, I think only of the Stalkers I’ve met and still worry about having to fight.
There’s a prescience to it that Abby can never have known about or expected. She looks from my face to the comic, back and forth as she flips the pages, expecting me to smile each time and tell her how great it is.
I do, of course, and it really is. The girl has talent that I never knew about, talent that, unfortunately, will be wasted in a city like this, at a time like this.
But still, I can’t help but think of the reality of it all as I sit there, struggling with each new turn of the page, each new drawing of me slaughtering my foes, to raise that smile.
It’s a person that, perhaps, I really am becoming. A killer, a soldier, maybe even a hero.
But whatever you call it, it’s something that doesn’t sit light on my shoulders. It’s a burden I never wished for or desired.
When we’re done, Abby shuts the book and looks upon me again.
“I can’t believe you’re real,” she says.
“How do you mean, Abs? Of course I’m real?”
“No…no, I don’t mean Brie, normal Brie. I mean Queen-Brie!” she says. “I saw you today. You’re my hero. I want to be just like you when I grow up.”
Her arms wrap around me again, her head nuzzling against my side. And as she squeezes tight, I whisper to myself: “No, Abs…you really don’t.”
20
I end the evening with my brother.
Before she gets too drunk, Mrs Carmichael calls it a day and leads the kids back to Compton’s Hall. Tess, while she’d prefer to stay, is forced to go with her, begrudgingly tearing her eyes from Zander as she leaves the room.
I’m left with only my twin, who quickly updates me on his day before hearing of my own.
His sounds fairly uneventful by comparison, his primary job now involving security. For the most part, he spent the day making sure the perimeter is well protected, and scouring the streets for any potential troublemakers.
Having taken Inner Haven, now it’s all about occupation and consolidation, rather than invasion.
“Sounds like you had a rough one, though, sis,” he says once I’ve completed my tale. “Sorry about Nate. He seemed a good kid.”
“He was.”
I don’t say anything more than that.
“Well, we’re safe here now,” he says. “The new discussion is what to do with our people out in the mines.”
I widen my stare, despite my fatigue.
“Don’t tell me you’re thinking about bringing them back?”
The idea makes me exhausted just thinking about it. We only got them out there a few days ago. Surely there’s no need to bring them back already?
I’m schooled, as I am so often, by my ‘big’ brother.
“The risk,” he says, “is that Cromwell will find out about them and hunt them down. He’s suffered a pretty serious blow. He might want to wreak some revenge.”
“But he doesn’t know where they are, does he?”
Zander’s lack of immediate response is telling. Then, before he answers, I draw my own conclusion.
“Rafe,” I say. “He’ll have known about the mines, and what the plan was. So, Woolf will too. And, assuming she’s with Cromwell, then…”
“Bingo,” pings Zander’s voice. “If he can’t get to us here, he might just send a bunch of Stalkers out there. It’s a very real risk.”
A rumbling, exhale of stress-filled air blasts from my lungs.
“So…what? You’re bringing them back again?”
“That’s being decided. We’re got a bunch of hybrids and soldiers there, as you know. But they’ll be no match for Cromwell if he sends some of his better agents.”
“And they’re no match for the wild anyway,” I add. “I mean, jeez Zander, we lost about, I don’t know, fifty people on our first go…and that was without running into the Bear-Skins or Fangs, and with Rhoth’s escort to boot.”
“Yeah, I know it all, Brie. And on the way back you did run into Bjorn and his hunters. I know…”
“And we could have all died. Seriously, Bjorn is not a happy bunny after what I did. There’s no way the people can pass through that way without loads more guards. And I mean loads. They’d be slaughtered otherwise.”
“I agree with you. And, as always, we’ve got a problem of numbers. Lady Orlando hardly wants to lose too many of our soldiers here.”
“But you said it yourself. We’re safe, right? And we’ve got City Guards joining up too. They might help…”
“We do, and after Lady Orlando’s speech, our ranks will probably swell. But, having them join us here is one thing. Trying to get them to head out into the outerlands to save a few hundred people…that’s another.”
“But Cromwell’s nowhere to be seen. We’re secure here. I say we get back out there and bring them home. What about Rhoth?”
Zander is already shaking his head.
“No chance in hell will he help. And anyway, he’s a whole other problem right now. We’ve had him moaning down the line, calling for us to get out there and fight his war for him. Adryan’s having a whale of a time dealing with all that, I can tell you.”
“Well he can damn well shut up and stop his moaning!” I announce. “If he’s giving Adryan a hard time, I’ll…”
Zander raises his eyes and smirks.
“You’ll…what exactly?”
“I…I don’t know. I’ll kick his ass, that’s what I’ll do.”
“Well, as much as I’d love to see that, I think we can think of something better. It’s possible we can kill a couple of birds with one stone here. You see what I’m saying?”
I let my ire settle, and then it comes to me.
“Right…right,” I say, nodding. “Help Rhoth take out the Bear-Skins, and go and fetch our people on the way. Smart.”
“Why thank you. Although, that was Kira’s.”
“Yeah, she’s smart too. Damn, that girl’s got some moves, Zander. She was great today.”
“She’s great everyday,” says my brother quickly.
“You don’t…like her do you?” I query, leaning in. “You seemed to be getting on pretty well with Tess earlier. I won’t have you messing with my girls.”
His laugh is wild and abundant. It fills the room right up to the brim.
“First, none of your business. Second, I’ve got no time to ‘like’ people right now. This isn’t school, Brie, this is war.”
I smile at his attempt to side-step the issue, and sneak right into his head to survey his thoughts. They’re a little less pleasant than I’d like, so I quickly retreat.
“Ew…Zander.”
He grins.
“I knew you’d try that. Thought I’d show you something you didn’t want to see.”
I pick up a few chips from a bowl and toss them into his face. He dodges them with annoying ease.
“Anyway, we’re getting off-topic here. The simple fact is, no decisions have been made yet. There are other things at play too…”
“Such as?” I ask quickly.
“Well, such as you let me speak and get to my point,” he glares. I’m not buying it. He’s just sore because I brought up his love life. “Cromwell,” he continues, “is priority one. We’re sending out some scouts tonight to try to find some clues. Right now, he’s completely AWOL, and still no word from Burns.”
“Right, well let him rot out there,” I say. “We have the city now, what can he do to us…”
“Brie, you’re being naïve. Never underestimate a man like that. If we can blow the High Tower with what we had at our disposal, I’m sure he can think of something.”
Why does he have to put me in my place so damn often? Why, Zander, why?
“OK, anything
else?” I ask.
“That’s not enough for you?”
“Oh, it’s plenty. It just seems like you’re building up to something…”
“Actually, no. That’s all I’ve got. Overall, it’s not a bad place to be. I mean, I’ve looked forward to something like this for years. I never actually believed we’d be here.”
“Well, it’s hardly ideal. It would have been a lot easier if Burns had just secretly taken Cromwell’s place.”
My brother doesn’t agree with me immediately. I briefly survey his thoughts once more and see that, despite it all, he’s enjoying this. That, in a way, he’s glad it went down as it did.
“Brie, stop it,” he says firmly. “I thought Lady Orlando told you not to invade people’s private thoughts?”
“Ah, yeah. Sorry. I’m trying.”
“Try harder,” he snaps. “You’ve got no right to do that.”
He stands from the table. I’ve irritated him, I can tell. No need for thought-reading for that one.
But then, I think it’s more than that. I think he’s perhaps a little ashamed by how alive all this is making him feel. That war, perhaps, is all he knows. That growing up with the Nameless has made the idea of peace, of total victory, unpalatable to him.
He thrives in turmoil and conflict. It gives him purpose, gives him meaning, allows him to make use of his wondrous gifts.
Without all of that, what would he be? Just a boy of 18, living a normal, boring, quiet life.
And while he seems to abhor such a thing, my mind is quite different.
In the end, this night has shown me that it’s all I long for.
Family, friends, laughter and joy. That’s what I’m fighting for.
And the sooner a real, lasting peace can be struck, the better.
21
I wake the following morning with a sore head in a room allocated to me within the City Guard HQ.
Like the last few years at the academy, I have a roommate. The blonde locks of Tess have been replaced by the red ones of Kira, deemed to be an appropriate sleeping buddy for me given our mutual roles and powers.
Here, on this floor, two up from the lobby, all of the offices have been given over for the housing of our more influential members. Over the course of the previous day, personnel were assigned to ensure that mattresses were fitted; simple, thin ones with little padding and the sparsest allowance of bedding too.
The bed was comfortable enough, though, and merely tucked up against one corner of the room, with Kira’s on the other side. When I come around, I find that hers is empty, just as it was last night. The only reason I know I’m staying with her, in fact, is because I woke up several times in the night in cold sweats and spotted her fiery hair across the room.
I quickly dress and gather my weapons, before heading down into the main lobby, which has now been filled with desks and chairs and all manner of equipment, the rebel technicians quick to configure a fairly advanced looking base of command.
It’s certainly a level up from the set up in the church, a necessity given how Lady Orlando and her underlings now have to try to run an entire city, and not just a few derelict buildings and damp, underground caves.
My first port of call is to chug down as much water as my belly will allow, the whiskey from last night still lingering a little in my veins. I’d say that Mrs Carmichael would be in a far worse state, but know her too well for that. She’s so conditioned to the stuff that a full bottle to herself would most probably result in a pretty bad case of ‘alcohol breath’ and little more.
As I stand at the water station in the atrium, swigging as if my life depended on it, it becomes evidently clear that I’m not going to get a chance for any RnR today. Already, more of our soldiers are ‘suiting up’ in their tactical armour and fetching their weapons from the stock room.
“Lock and load,” I hear one particular grunt call out, before marching off through the main hall with a force of about a dozen men at his back.
There are plenty of faces about that I don’t recognise. And a few that I do. Among the latter, the grizzled visage of Beckett stands out, the primary commander of the rebel army doing what he does best; barking orders here and there, calling the shots like a master conductor.
I shuffle on over to him to get an update on what happened overnight. Our relationship is hardly friendly, but I wish for it to at least be professional. So I address him as a good soldier should, formal and respectful.
Nevertheless, he appears a little too busy to deal with me right now.
“Kira is outside,” he tells me. “She’ll fill you in.”
That’s all I get.
“Thank you, sir,” I say, before heading straight out of the large double doors.
The morning air is still dusty, trillions of tiny, invisible particles and grains teaming up to create a cloud that continues to hover over the main platform and street right at the city’s core. It will take time to settle, the falling of the High Tower creating a coating of the stuff that’s now colonising just about every street in a two mile radius.
It makes visibility poor, not helped by the dark cloudy skies above. Through the fog, I search ahead and note that several hundred people continue to pick at the remains of the High Tower, removing the dead and searching for the living. It will be a long job that will last days and perhaps weeks, but one that needs to be done.
There are a fair number of soldiers around too, mostly ours by the looks of their outfits. However, among them I see City Guards, adorned in their distinguished uniforms and gathering into a troop. Among them, two giant frames stand out.
I rush over and find that they belong to Titus and Magnus, the Brute brothers having made it here safe and sound. They look like they’ve been through it, though, their uniforms grimy and large faces peppered with soot. By my reckoning, neither have slept.
“You got here then?!” I say, dancing forward.
Magnus notices me first, his tablet-like teeth showing up well against his soot-darkened skin. “Sure did,” his voice rumbles, spreading across the morning air.
“Looks like you brought a few friends with you too,” I say, surveying the gathering of their colleagues. “Did they take much convincing?”
It’s Titus who answers.
“Not from us,” he says. “Your rebel leader did that herself. I sure would like to meet her.”
“And I’m sure you will. So good to have you with us, though.”
I smile, and even draw one from Titus’ lips.
Then, another voice sings from my right, and I turn to see the half-Hawk face of Rycard coming into view through the smog.
“It sure is,” he says. “And they’re still coming. We’ve had a couple hundred come through the gates already, with more still pouring in. Some are taking longer to come round, but the tide is definitely turning.”
“I guess it’s some vindication for you,” I say to Rycard. “Seeing all these City Guards follow in your footsteps.”
“Just a matter of showing them the light,” he says. “Some take more convincing, and that’s where I come in. I know a lot of them, and have been given command of their transition. All I have to do is talk about the attack on the market, and they’re on board. Lots of them lost friends that day.”
I look to the Brute brothers again, who nod solemnly.
“It’s unforgivable,” growls Titus.
“Completely unforgivable,” adds his younger brother.
“So how about you? You guys know each other?”
“We’ve crossed paths,” says Rycard. “I mean, look at the size of them…they’re not exactly easy to miss.”
His good eye glints.
“Yeah, well Rycard here is more forgettable,” retorts Magnus with a lopsided grin. “At least, he was until he got that fetching eye patch.”
Rycard laughs, seemingly coming to terms with his disability. Until now, it’s hardly hindered him. He’s been fully involved with the Nameless since he joined up, and now seems t
o have been given the control of the City Guard too.
Quite the promotion. And well deserved.
“So, what’s going on then?” I ask, looking around at the continual movement of troops. “Looks like we’re mobilising.”
“Not the whole army,” says Rycard. “Just squads. There are pockets of Con-Cops causing havoc around the streets, killing people as they try to reach the gates. We have to protect them.”
“Yeah, we saw the same when we came here yesterday,” I say. “Is it bad?”
“Pretty bad. Hundreds have been killed already. Others are just staying in their homes because they’re too afraid to leave.”
“We took down quite a few on the way here,” says Titus. “Escorted a whole bunch of civilians, a lot of them from the concert hall, and got them here safe. The Con-Cops are dumb, but fearless. They don’t care if they lose their lives, and don’t care about taking them either.”
“Well, where’s my brother?” I ask. “And Kira…I was told she was out here?”
“She is, over there,” says Rycard, pointing down the street. “More squads are being prepared. I saw Zander about too, think they’re heading out momentarily.”
“Not without me they’re not!” I say. “I’ll see you guys later…”
I twist on the spot and leave them there, heading straight for my roommate. As I reach her, Zander appears as if from nowhere, swishing from the dusty gloom, fully locked and loaded and ready to go.
“You’re heading out?” I ask. They both spin to look at me. “Why didn’t anyone wake me up? What, you think you can just leave without me, is that it?”
“Thought you needed some rest,” says Zander flatly. “We have plenty of soldiers now. We don’t need you.”
I lift up my brows.
“You don’t need me? Wow, that’s hurtful.”
“Come on, sis, you know what I mean. It’s simple search and destroy squads. We’re dealing with Con-Cops only, with perhaps the odd City Guard troop loyal to Cromwell. Take the day off. Hang out with your friends.”