by J. L. Lyon
“I hope you’re right, Grand Admiral,” Dryfus smiled and addressed his major generals. “All right men, you heard the orders: surround the Tower; kill any who attempt escape.”
-X-
301 made it up the last flight of stairs and paused in front of the door to the roof. The sounds of the conflict now far below, he was completely and utterly alone. His hand hovered above the handle, hesitating with the weight of apprehension that suddenly overcame him. The fate of every soul in the Tower rested on his success, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something else also waited on the other side of that door…something personal. The last time he felt that way, he had chosen not to turn Grace in to the MWR, a decision that had changed his life forever.
He pulled down the handle and shoved it open, letting the cool night air wash over his face. Holding Calumnior firmly by his side, he stepped cautiously out onto the roof and took in his surroundings. The stars still shone brightly in the sky above, and the thin mist of smoke from the battle on the field had just begun to rise over the waist-high walls. It was calm and peaceful, as though the violent battle below were miles and miles away.
301 let his eyes sweep the roof to make sure there would be no surprises, and then focused his attention straight ahead on his target. The rebel’s back was turned to him, fingers flying madly over the controls of the Master Dish. He stepped lightly away from the stairwell and closed the distance between them, “This is the end for you, rebel.”
The rebel froze, but did not immediately turn. Then there came a heavy sigh, and the sound of a woman’s voice, “I had a feeling we would meet again, Shadow Soldier.”
The rebel turned to face him, and 301’s deepest fears became reality.
“Grace.”
13
LONG DARK HAIR FELL lightly on Grace’s shoulders as she lowered her hood and removed her cloak, tossing it aside to reveal the solid black Silent Thunder uniform beneath it. Her new rank stripes shone brightly in the moonlight, and her eyes were alight with that energy he remembered all too well. “Hello, 301,” she said. “It’s been too long since we last saw one another. I’ve missed you.”
She moved calmly away from the Master Dish controls, forming an arc with her steps. 301 matched her arc by moving in the opposite direction, keeping the space between them constant.
“So quiet,” she grinned, though her eyes did shift to the Gladius at his side with momentary suspicion. “There’s no time to get reacquainted, I’m afraid. We have much to discuss, you and I.”
At first 301 did not trust himself to speak. He had prepared for this moment, but the well of emotions her presence brought out threatened to overwhelm him in a crushing torrent. He wanted to run to her, to embrace her and experience that kiss he had taken at their last parting. He wanted to take hold of the joy he had felt while with her, and abandon the hollow existence she had left in her wake.
But then again, would she even allow it? A sharp pain stabbed at his chest. How must Grace be feeling, believing that he had been the one to kill her father? Did she hate him? Did she want revenge? He couldn’t imagine how it felt to lose a parent, having never known that kind of love. Perhaps it was better that way. Maybe she should hate him, if only to erase those six weeks of bliss so they could both move on with their lives. They were enemies, after all, sworn to opposite sides of a war that would not be resolved until one side destroyed the other.
“I got your message,” he said at last.
She nodded somberly, “I wondered. I know the last words my father spoke to you, 301, and I had faith you would put all the pieces together. You must know the truth by now.”
The truth…
Since that night, 301 had attempted to explain away Sawyer’s words any way he could. Perhaps the commander had been lying…one last strike in a place he knew 301 was weak. But why? What did he stand to gain? He could have been delusional, perhaps, but 301 had rejected that as well. Sawyer had seemed incredibly lucid in his final moments; he knew exactly what he was saying, and to whom.
“So that was what? A test?”
She shrugged, “Of a sort. You knew it was meant for you. That was enough.”
“How long have you known?”
“I suspected something, when we first met,” she replied. “I recognized you, but it took me a long time to connect the dots. I finally figured it out the night you freed me, right after we…well, you remember.”
“I remember what I told you would happen if our paths ever crossed again,” he said. “You should not have come here tonight, Grace. You should have fled the city, as I asked.”
Grace flashed a broad smile, and 301’s heart seized up in his chest. She was far more beautiful than he remembered. “You know me better than that. This cannot be finished for me, especially not now.”
“You know what I am,” he said, jaw clenched in determination. “And you know what I have to do.”
“I’m not here to fight you, 301. So before you do anything drastic, I’d like you to listen.”
“We’re long past talk, Grace!” he said in exasperation. “Look where we are! Nothing can change what has to happen here!”
“My father handed you the biggest secret of your life,” she shook her head. “Have you even paused to consider what this means?”
“It means the end of me,” he spat. “All I have built—everything I have spent my life to achieve—will be gone in an instant if word of this gets back to the MWR.”
“301, you are nothing more than the World System’s tool. What you think are personal achievements and rewards are only chains to enslave you. Even now, faced with the knowledge of where you came from, you can’t see past your training. You are such a fool. This is not just about where you came from. It’s about who you are.”
“I am 301-14-A, a Specter Captain—”
“301-14-A is a lie,” she interrupted. “Your entire life for the last fifteen years has been a complete fabrication, built by the Discipliner of the Capital Orphanage to conceal you from us. But now we’ve found you, and it’s time to come home.”
“The World System is my home. It’s where I belong.”
“Are you still so blind to what the World System is? To the horrors Napoleon Alexander unleashes on the world every day? You don’t belong there! You belong with us…with me.”
Her words radiated affection and sincerity, and 301 nearly broke. The fledgling desire he had felt to go with her that night suddenly returned, and he realized that his reason for refusing was no longer valid. Grace was the commander of Silent Thunder. His being with her could not make her any more hunted than she already was. But now, there was a different reason he hesitated…one far more personal.
“You wouldn’t say that if you truly knew me,” he said. “We had precious few hours together, Grace. Six weeks of nights where I tried desperately to hide my true self from you, because I knew even then what you would think of me. You speak so often of the monsters in the World System you have dedicated your life to destroy. Well, I am one of those monsters. I am no different than the rest of them.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” she said. “And you proved it that day in the palace courtyard, when Napoleon Alexander gave me to be your slave. You could have done anything you wanted to me. I would have fought you, but I doubt I could have prevented it. In fact, that was all I had thought about in the hours since I was taken. In my mind, my fate was sealed.
“But then there you were,” she took a step toward him, and this time he did not back away. “You looked into my eyes and I knew immediately you were as scared as I was. You melted my fear with your compassion, and comforted me with your care. That is why, despite my lifelong terror of slavery, I continue to bear this mark.” She pulled up her sleeve to show the tattoo of his designation as she continued to close the distance between them. “I will always wear it proudly, as a badge of honor.”
301 could hear nothing but the sound of his own panicked heart. He had tried unsuccessfully to get ove
r her ever since their last meeting, and to do so he had come up with every excuse possible. Chief among them was that Grace had never really cared for him—that she only showed him affection because she had to, because she was a slave and she belonged to him. Even the kiss, he reasoned, she gave out of obligation—a thank you for the gift of her freedom.
This thought—this excuse—for moving past her, was why he had named his Spectral Gladius Calumnior. Because Grace was an adversary. She had used him to survive.
Yet here she was, free and without obligation to him, pleading for him once again to go with her. Was it possible she really did love him?
Grace drew within inches of him, and—as if reading his mind—reached up and placed a hand on his cheek. She spoke softly. “You are not a monster. You are a man, loved by many.” She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “Eli.”
Hearing the name pass from Grace’s lips sparked something in his mind, and he recoiled. Eli, the boy who appeared to him and haunted his dreams…and Elijah Charity, the son of the World System’s most dangerous foe. He had not connected them before, but now it seemed obvious. Eli was a shorter form of Elijah. But what did that mean? How could he be haunted by…himself?
“What if you’re wrong?” he asked, ignoring the hurt expression Grace wore at his withdrawal. “What if I’m not who you think I am?”
“You are,” she said firmly. “It’s been confirmed. And even if it hadn’t, I know. I’ve been dreaming about this my entire life.”
301 shook his head, “What do you mean? That night in the courtyard was the first time you had ever met me.”
Grace watched him with sadness and disappointment, “You still don’t remember.”
“Remember what?”
“You know that story I told you about the friend I lost as a child?”
301 thought back to their conversation all those weeks ago at the palace. The death of her childhood friend was what led to her cutting herself off from others, a tendency that had earned her the nickname Shadow Heart.
“Yes.”
“That boy was you.”
There was no trace of doubt on Grace’s face, no indication she did not believe every word she said. Could it be true? Could he have been the boy Grace thought lost in her childhood? The one whose loss had so damaged her heart that no other man could claim her? It made sense. Eli was hell-bent on protecting Grace. In fact, he was the one who had led him to that platform in the first place. Hadn’t he even called her his best friend at some point? Perhaps they had grown up together.
But then again, it made no sense. Grace might have grown up with a little boy named Eli, but that couldn’t have been him. He had been at the Capital Orphanage long before that…at one or two years old. So he couldn’t be Eli. And if Eli was Elijah Charity, that meant he couldn’t be him, either.
“My file says—”
“The record of your entrance into the World System was fabricated,” Grace explained. “You didn’t arrive at the Capital Orphanage until you were nearly six years old, on a day when a man with the designation 301-14-A was killed in battle. We don’t yet have all the details, but that man’s identity was appropriated for you, to keep your presence at the orphanage from being discovered.”
“Discovered by you?”
She nodded, “Or Napoleon Alexander, I suspect.”
“Who could do that?” he asked. “You would need access to the System’s central computer. Manual replacement of DNA, fingerprints, personal history…”
“There will be plenty of time to talk about all this,” Grace said. “But for now, we must go.”
“Go?” he asked. “Go where?”
She frowned, “The battle will soon finish, and it is time to withdraw. You are coming with me…aren’t you?”
“We’ve been through this, Grace,” 301 sighed. “Even if everything you say about me is true, there’s no place for me in Silent Thunder. Not after all I’ve done. You’re working so hard to convince me that I don’t belong in the World System, and maybe that’s true. But that may just mean I don’t belong anywhere.”
Her expression hardened, “So what then? You’ll stay with them? Continue to serve a maniacal tyrant who wants to destroy everything I love? Rub shoulders with the man who murdered my father? Look at me, Eli!”
301 complied, and paused at the look in her eyes. He had never seen her fury. As the wind blew through her hair, that fiery expression made her seem like something more than a human. Beautiful, powerful, fearless—in that moment, he had no problem seeing why she had ascended to her father’s position. She was a force—one to be reckoned with.
“Don’t walk away from me again, Eli. I know how you feel about me, I can see it in your eyes. The only excuse you have for not coming is your own cowardice.”
“You’re asking me to leave behind everything I have ever known—”
“No,” she insisted. “I’m asking you to accept who you are. I’m asking you to do what you know is right. You know who Napoleon Alexander is—what he is—and yet you can still serve him? Forget about my father. Napoleon Alexander murdered your parents, Eli! He destroyed your family and stole your life!”
“A family that I can’t even remember!” he yelled, and suddenly he lifted his Spectral Gladius between them as if to shield himself from the onslaught of her words. “I don’t remember any of it, Grace! So what am I supposed to do? This isn’t about cowardice. It’s about reality. I am what I am, and you can’t change me.”
“Eli—”
“Do not call me that,” he growled. Her countenance fell and she stepped backward, as stunned as if he had slapped her. “The boy you knew is dead. Elijah Charity…is dead. It’s time for you—for both of us—to move on.”
301 turned his back to her and took a deep breath. This is the real world, he thought, not some fairytale. Sometimes there are no happy endings. The light of his Spectral Gladius died and the blade retreated back within the hilt. “I’ll tell them you escaped. And though I know you won’t listen, I’ll warn you again that you should get out of Alexandria. I may not be able to spare you next time.”
“301, please,” Grace said. “Don’t go.”
He kept his eyes on the door, knowing that if he faced her again he might not be able to do what was necessary. “I’m sorry, Grace. But we are not meant to be together. We never were.” He made for the door to exit the roof, each step away from her more painful than the last.
“Eli,” Grace said, her voice quiet with a deep sorrow. “He burned your mother alive.”
301 froze mid-step. The world suddenly swayed beneath his feet as he passed halfway between the real world and the world of his visions. He saw the flames, the green eyes within, and felt an anguish the likes of which he had never known—an anguish he had no desire to remember. Yet despite his wish, Grace’s words triggered it, and opened him up to the pain of that moment.
Were the visions of fire actually memories of his mother’s death?
He violated his own intentions and turned back to Grace. An involuntary tear fell down his cheek, and he wiped it shamefully away. Soldiers do not cry, he reminded himself. Emotion is weakness. But the way she looked at him, so full of pity, made it seem like the event had only just happened. His mother had just died, and he wanted to spill forth all the tears that his soldier’s life had denied him. Why? He didn’t even know the woman. She had been dead for fifteen years!
Grace smiled weakly and began to approach him again. In that moment he knew: she had him. When she asked again, he would not be able to say no. Love was a gift he felt he didn’t deserve, and so he could turn away from it. But this grief, and the strangely powerful anger that accompanied it, he could not just push away. The world was out of balance. Justice had not been served.
And he would set it to rights.
But as Grace opened her mouth to speak again, the door behind 301 burst open and Derek Blaine’s voice cut through the silence, “Don’t move!”
Derek circled around
301 with his sidearm trained on Grace, and 301’s breath caught in his throat. It was over. Silent Thunder would retreat, and Grace would be kept here until she could be taken into custody. Then she would be forced to endure whatever Napoleon Alexander had planned for her, and knowing him the end would not come easy.
“Hands where I can see them!” Derek ordered.
Grace complied and slowly lifted her hands above her head. Strangely, she did not appear the slightest bit alarmed or worried at Derek’s arrival. She just continued to watch 301 with that same intense sadness, keeping him rooted in their last conversation.
He burned your mother alive. A similar if not worse fate undoubtedly awaited Grace if she was taken by the World System. He would be forced to endure it, to watch as she was subjected to horror and death at the hands of the men he considered his allies. And he would do so without lifting a finger to help her.
No, he thought suddenly. That is something the System soldier would do. I am not just 301-14-A any more. Before he had fully thought through the ramifications, his sidearm was drawn and trained on his partner.
Derek’s head turned slightly, and his eyes widened with shock, “Captain? What are you doing?”
“Stand down, Derek.”
“Are you crazy? We have orders to bring her in.”
“I have no intention of handing her over to be butchered by the MWR,” 301 said. “Lower your weapon.”
“Or what?”
“Derek, this is not a request. I am ordering you: lower your weapon!”
“Then you’d better be ready to shoot me, Captain,” Derek spat. “Because that’s the only way she is leaving this roof without me. I should have known better than to ignore what Liz said on the deck of that ship. You helped her escape from the palace, didn’t you? And now you’re trying to help her escape again. I don’t know what sort of spell she has you under—”
“I’m warning you, Derek! This is not a game to me!”