by J. L. Lyon
The Right Hand gave a slow and nearly imperceptible nod, “Yes.”
“Great leaders are not normally those who have had their lives handed to them…they are the ones who rise from the ashes of great fires—disaster, failure, tragedy—and from that point of utter destruction forge themselves anew. Before a hero can rise, sometimes he first must fall.”
“Is there no other way?”
His superior sighed, “My contingency might still be prevented, but I will not call them off. Your only chance would be to complete Shadow Fall before the extraction team arrives.”
“How long do I have?”
“Two days, three at most. But I would caution you not to do anything foolish. I have seen that same look in the eyes of many men when they decide to sacrifice themselves for some perceived greater good.”
“Some things are worth dying for.”
“A fragmenting strategy is not one of those things. We need you.”
“I wouldn’t die for the strategy,” the Right Hand replied. “But for the man…that is different.”
“Just be careful, my friend. It is not just for the sake of the resistance that I wouldn’t want to lose you.”
“Thank you, sir,” the Right Hand nodded. “Serving with you has been a great honor, and the chance at redemption you have offered—it is worth more than any other payment you could have given.”
The man stepped forward to shake his hand, “The honor has been mine.”
“If I succeed, you must be ready to do the rest.”
His superior stepped back and leaned on the staff once again, “I swear it. Good luck to you, friend. I hope our paths cross again.”
The Right Hand bowed his head respectfully, “Until then I say farewell, Benefactor.”
The Benefactor returned the bow, “Farewell.”
19
LIZ COVERED HER NOSE as she followed two Imperial Guardsman into the darkest part of the Division Nine prison, making her best attempt to block the stench of death and decay that hung on the air. Cries of every kind echoed at her from all directions as she made her way down the stone tunnel, and some were brave enough to reach out for her with dirty hands. Those were rewarded with blows from the two guardsman. Some were desperate, some were lustful, and some demanded freedom and justice, as the prison held all manner of the World System’s undesirables and didn’t bother to separate them according to their crimes. Such as it was, murderers and rapists shared cells with freedom fighters and protesters. She wondered if a few of the latter group wouldn’t agree to serve the Imperial Conglomerate just to taste fresh air again.
Crude torchlight provided the only illumination, and as they passed the first line of cells the convulsing figures became little more than shadows playing across the walls. Liz couldn’t help but feel out of place in the archaic atmosphere, having donned her pristine white uniform. She had pulled her hair up into a bun to give herself a more severe look, but that didn’t change the way it shone like gold in the torchlight. She doubted there was a man in the dungeon who wouldn’t remember the sight of her, and the thought made her skin crawl.
“Was there no way to run electricity down here?” Liz asked, trying to distract herself from all those prying eyes.
“Of course, Chief, but what would be the point?” one of the guardsmen replied. “This is where they send people to die a slow death. Disconnecting them from the civilized world adds to the despair and speeds that process, if only a little.”
“I see,” she said wryly. “How merciful. Are we nearly there?”
“The prisoner you seek is down another floor, in solitary confinement. We have to walk through this level to get there, as an added security measure.”
“Understandable, I suppose. Well, lead on.”
Liz had spent most of the time since her arrival in Rome poring over the records that the Ruling Council had stolen from the World System, looking for anything that might help with her plan to make a connection with the rebellion. The man she was on her way to see was one she had discovered very early in her search, but he was the last one she wanted to ask. Unfortunately, despite her extensive research Liz was unable to find a better candidate for the job—if she could sell it to Sullivan.
As they descended into the lowest level of the dungeon Liz asked, “Who ordered him to be kept in solitary?”
“That order came from Grand Admiral Donalson, Chief. He wanted to take every precaution to prevent the prisoner’s escape, especially during the purge of Rome. Donalson believed he still had a decent-sized force in the city, biding their time for an opportunity to break their leader out of prison.”
“But no such attempt was made.”
“No ma’am. No one outside the grand admiral, the division leader, and the guards of this facility even know he is still alive. Which is why I was so surprised when you asked to see him.”
“There’s always a paper trail, Sergeant,” Liz smiled. “I just happened to find it.”
They reached the bottom of the stairs and entered into a quiet corridor, also lit only by torches, but cleaner and more presentable than the squalor she had just seen above. The stone walls seemed old...much older than if the World System had constructed the dungeon. As they strode down the corridor, three sets of boots echoing with every step, Liz saw a single cell come into view at the very end. There was nothing to the right or the left but the ancient stone, as if the hall had been built only to house this prison cell.
A man stood at the bars, elbows resting on the crossbeam as he watched their approach through a disheveled length of hair. Between the hair and the shadows cast by the bars, Liz couldn’t see the man’s face even when they came to a stop just a few feet from his cell.
“You have a visitor,” one of the guardsmen announced.
“Thank you,” he spoke in a smooth, albeit sarcastic, voice. “I can see that.”
“Then stand up straight, you rebel traitor!” The other guardsman commanded. “Show some respect for the Chief of Command!”
“Chief of Command,” the man chuckled. “Now that’s a position I’ve not heard of before. I didn’t know they were hiring blonde bombshells to march around in white uniforms, either. If this is the direction the Great Army is going, then sign me up.”
The first guardsman raised his baton as if to strike, but Liz stopped him with an upraised hand, “Thank you, gentlemen, that will be all. I would like to speak with the prisoner alone.”
Both gave her an incredulous look, but she did not relent. She couldn’t allow them to listen in on the conversation she was about to have with this man. They hesitated for only a moment before bowing their heads respectfully and then making their way back up the corridor. Liz waited until she heard the echo of the door closing at the top of the stairs, and turned to find the prisoner staring at her with a smile, his hair finally pulled back out of his face.
She paused upon sight of him, and was momentarily speechless. He is remarkably good-looking, she thought, despite how filthy he is. He smiled at her with perfect white teeth, and she understood in an instant why he had been able to amass such a large following so quickly. He was the kind of leader people longed to follow: charming, handsome, and arrogant enough to believe he could do the impossible.
“I don’t know what this is about,” he grinned. “But if you’re here to have a little fun, I’m all yours darling.” He gave her a lustful look up and down, and she rolled her eyes.
“Charles Aurelius Justus,” Liz shook her head. “I wonder what your followers in the Roman rebellion would say if they saw how far you have fallen.”
His expression darkened, “Is this how you think to turn me on, by insulting me?”
“Let’s get something straight,” she took on her commanding tone. “The fact that you think a woman like me would need to come to a dungeon to be pleasured by a lowlife such as yourself tells me that you don’t know as much about women as you think you do.”
“Apologies, my lady,” he said. “It’s just that I’
m used to seeing men in dark green, not beautiful young women in white. I merely assumed it some sort of ceremony. And perhaps it was a bit of wishful thinking on my part. I have been in here for quite some time, deprived of certain comforts...”
“Much has changed since your incarceration, Justus,” Liz explained. “The World System no longer rules this hemisphere.”
The deposed rebel leader’s eyes went wide, “You mean they were defeated? By whom?”
“The World System still holds the Western Hemisphere,” Liz replied. “But the east is controlled by the Ruling Council, who have broken away to form a new government.”
Justus withdrew from the bars and scoffed, “So there really has been no change at all. The System is just at war with itself, and more innocent people will die as they fight over which leader will reign.”
“The Imperial Conglomerate of Cities is preparing for the election of a legislative body called the Citadel,” Liz said. “An event that would never be possible under the reign of Napoleon Alexander. Don’t be too quick to judge when you haven’t even been above ground in over three months.”
“Please,” Justus spat. “The Ruling Council is just as bad as the MWR, if not worse. At least Napoleon Alexander will openly admit that he is a tyrant. Sounds like the Ruling Council is trying to fool everyone just long enough to gain power, after which they will devour and destroy every freedom they supposedly gave. Face it, honey: your uniform might be a different color, but you’re still working for the same System that keeps our world enslaved to tyranny. Don’t insult my intelligence or yours by trying to convince me otherwise.”
Liz’s eyes narrowed. He was going to be a tough one to handle, but she had taken Emperor Sullivan’s advice to heart. Every man had a weakness, and she already knew his. The only thing left to do was exploit it.
She dropped her commanding tone in favor of one softer and more inviting, “I’m not here to convince you of anything, Justus. I have a proposition for you.”
He flashed those bright white teeth again, “I thought you weren’t here for that.”
“You know of Silent Thunder, I take it.”
“Wouldn’t be much of a rebel leader if I didn’t. Everyone knows the story of how the World System was almost defeated by them fifteen years ago, despite how hard Alexander has worked to cover that up. Unfortunate that they were unsuccessful in the end. For them and everyone else.”
“Silent Thunder has returned,” Liz said, pleased to see the excited reaction she expected from him at the announcement. “Right before your takedown, Jacob Sawyer ambushed a squad of soldiers in Alexandria. Since then it has escalated, and the Phantom Army attacked the Communications Tower just hours ago. Donalson has been given the go ahead to purge Alexandria as he did Rome, and we both know what that will do to order in the capital. With the right pressures, the World System could soon be on the verge of collapse.”
“Silent Thunder…big news, for certain,” Justus shrugged. “I’m sure they’re putting up quite a fight, but I don’t see what it has to do with me.”
“We seek an alliance with them,” Liz said. “Sullivan can provide them valuable intel and they have substantial manpower already in Alexandria. Together, we could bring down the World System in half the time.”
“I still don’t see what you want from me.”
“As a renowned rebel leader, you are perhaps the only one who could get their attention to suggest such an alliance. Given your past history with the World System they might find in you a kindred spirit...someone they can trust. And with that trust, you can forge our pact.”
“So you’re asking me to what? Infiltrate Division One and then infiltrate Silent Thunder, all on behalf of a government I could never in good conscience serve? Who are you to make such a request?”
“I am Chief of Command Elizabeth Aurora, supreme commander of the land and naval forces of the Imperial Conglomerate of Cities.”
“That would make you equivalent to what, then? A grand admiral?”
“Yes,” she nodded.
Justus broke out in a loud stream of laughter that echoed all the way back down the corridor, “You, commander of the Ruling Council’s armies? Am I missing something? Because all I see is a young blonde who probably slept her way into—”
Liz pulled Ignis from her belt and the blade flashed toward the bars, slicing cleanly through them and leaving a trail of smoke in its wake. One more swipe and she could cut the bars free, but she preferred to keep Justus caged while he considered her offer. He had put his back to the wall furthest from the bars, though the cell was so small she could still have reached him without difficulty if she wanted.
“You were saying?” she asked.
Justus put up his hands as if to surrender, “Specter has returned too then, I take it.”
“Yes, and all save myself still serve the World System. But you will find many more Spectral adepts in the service of the rebellion, so you needn’t fear.”
“There’s one major flaw in this plan of yours, Chief of Command Aurora. I don’t have anything Jacob Sawyer wants. Sure, you hold the promise of great intel, but Silent Thunder will need little help in that regard.”
“You will not be dealing with Jacob Sawyer,” Liz said. “He died a few days ago. You will be dealing with his daughter Grace, who has assumed command.”
Justus gave a short chuckle, “Of course she has. Seems like the world has become a girls’ party during my time in this cell.”
“You would be unwise to underestimate either of us,” Liz warned. “But especially not her. Her father trained her with the Gladius himself, and it was she who led the Phantom Army’s attack on the Communications Tower.”
“All well and good, but the problem still remains. What do I have to offer Grace Sawyer?”
“You mean besides your charm and chivalry?” Liz retorted sarcastically. “I’m sure you can come up with something, Justus. Are you or are you not the rebel leader who managed to liberate Rome for eighteen full months?”
Justus crossed his arms, still eying her Spectral Gladius fearfully, “I am.”
“And I’m sure that took quite a bit of planning and advance recon. I’m not asking you to walk right in there with the expectation of becoming her best friend. We will stage another attack on Division One to drop you off with a team of our best intelligence operatives, after which you will study the movements of the rebellion. Find out what they’re after, their primary goals, and find a way to make them need you. If Sawyer has a reason to want to trust you, that should make your life a whole lot easier.”
“Then it’s just a simple matter of feeding them highly classified intel from a man they despise nearly as much as Napoleon Alexander. I admit meeting Grace Sawyer and convincing her to need me is quite an intriguing thought, but I’m just not sure it’s worth the risk. If they discover my intel comes from Sullivan, they would execute me as a traitor and a spy.”
“Don’t be too sure of that,” Liz smiled. “I’m sure that even now many of Silent Thunder see the rise of the Imperial Conglomerate as a chance to strike hard and fast at the World System to bring down Napoleon Alexander. They may not trust us, but they will fight with us if the end result is the System’s downfall. They’ve waited too long and spent too much blood to pass up that opportunity.”
“Let’s say you’re right,” Justus conceded. “Let’s say I am able to convince Sawyer to trust me and we start weakening the System from within so you can hammer away at them from outside. What’s in it for me?”
“I would have thought the prospect of doing something good to be enough for a man like you.”
“Well you also have to consider who you’re asking me to do it for. To be honest, Chief Aurora, I don’t trust you...and I certainly don’t trust Sullivan. So if you want me to agree to this plan of yours then you need to have something I want. There needs to be something in it for me.”
Liz smiled grimly. She had come prepared for this. “How about revenge, Justus? Revenge fo
r your people.”
“My people have suffered for the better part of twenty years, Chief,” he said. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”
She returned Ignis to her belt and looked at the rebel leader sadly. This was the conversation she had been looking forward to least. Giving horrible news was never easy.
“Justus...” she began. “It pains me to tell you that Rome has never suffered as it has in the last three months. No city has, not since the Persian Resurgence.”
“Explain.”
“As punishment for the support given to your rebellion, the MWR ordered the city downgraded from a class four city to a class two. Half the city was burned—buildings, natural resources—and half the population summarily executed. They’ve come to call it the Rape of Rome. It was the most brutal event to date in the Systemic Era.”
Justus turned away from her, using a hand to steady himself against the wall while the other covered his heart. Liz remained respectfully silent, until he turned back to her and asked, “How many? How many dead?”
“I don’t know the exact count—”
“How many?” he demanded, his yell echoing back at them several times before finally fading back into silence.
“Five million,” she replied in a near whisper.
Justus released a sorrowful sigh, and Liz could tell he was on the verge of tears. To many across the world, five million was just a number—a terrible and horrifying number, to be sure—but one that affected them little. To Justus, that number was intensely personal—citizens who dwelt in the city he had tried to save, and who had perished because he failed.
“Who was responsible?”
“Napoleon Alexander gave the order,” Liz answered. “Grand Admiral Donalson carried it out.”
“Such inhumanity,” Justus whispered. “I bet the MWR didn’t even bat an eye.”
“No,” she said. “And Donalson did his work with relish. Such men must not be allowed to keep power, Justus. Such men must not be allowed to live in this world with the rest of us.”