by J. L. Lyon
“I made a promise to your father, Grace,” Crenshaw said.
“Did you make the same promise to Jonathan Charity?” she demanded. “Did you make it to your sister?”
“Yes,” Crenshaw said grimly. “But if it is a choice between losing one of you or both, I choose one. It’s too late now Grace. We have to retreat or there will be nothing left of us.”
“Am I still the commander?” she asked.
Crenshaw shook his head in exasperation, “You are compromised by your feelings—”
“Am I still the commander?” she demanded more forcefully.
“Yes,” Crenshaw admitted. “You are still the commander.”
“Then I’m going back. I won’t ask you to come with me.”
“That’s because you don’t have to,” Crenshaw said. “Go. I’ll be right behind you.”
-X-
Derek and 301 faced one another down, the light of their blades gleaming serenely by their sides. 301 still felt the sting of being denied his vengeance when a millisecond more would have been enough, but the sight of his partner standing ready to defend Napoleon Alexander made him sick to his stomach. Just how far was Derek willing to go to preserve the World System?
“Get out of my way, Derek,” he challenged.
“You know I can’t do that.”
“You protect a man responsible for the slaughter of millions of innocent people!”
“I won’t betray the System and all I have become, as you have done.”
“But you would betray the rest of the world just to stand by a lie?” 301 asked. “The System is evil, Derek! It destroys lives and turns people into machines to be used at Alexander’s bidding! This is the only way to stop the cycle. Once the MWR is dead, the world can be free.”
“Free to descend back into the chaos that preceded the System?” Derek asked. “I will gladly fight against the permission of such a travesty!”
“Even if it is me you must fight?”
“I swore to preserve the System against the threat of any foe,” Derek took a deep breath. “Even if that foe is you.”
“I don’t have time for this, Derek!” 301 moved forward. “Step aside!”
He recoiled as Derek’s fist connected with his mouth and forced him back, temporarily stunned. He put his fingers to his throbbing lower lip, pulling them back to see they were glazed with blood. He looked accusingly at his old partner as rain began to fall around them, slowly increasing in intensity. Thunder roared loudly as the moment stretched and both men contemplated what must happen next.
301 raised Pax Aeterna into an offensive position, “I had hoped it wouldn’t be this way.”
Derek frowned with genuine regret, “I’m sorry.”
They moved as one, blades colliding with a high-pitched clash so fierce it could be heard above the thunder. Rain fell in a downpour, soaking through their clothes. Water flew off their bodies with every motion of the battle. Their weapons crashed together again and again in the most intense fight either had ever waged. 301 felt as though he faced a mirror-image of himself. Derek seemed able to anticipate his every move, and why not? They had learned together, sparred together, and trusted one another above all others. Now they were one well-timed blow away from killing one another.
Their movements were an indiscernible blur of white light, their speed and precision enough to shame even the greatest warriors that had preceded them. But in the end, it was a dance of death. One would die, and the other would stand.
-X-
As the duel moved back down the stairs, Napoleon Alexander reemerged from behind his throne. He pulled a silver handgun from his side and slid out the empty magazine. In times past he had been armed with this weapon and a Gladius no matter the occasion, but since the fall of the rebellion he had found it tedious to be armed while surrounded by countless guards. Still, he always kept this gun with him, along with two bullets he had promised long ago to his remaining rivals: Jacob Sawyer and Ellis Crenshaw. But given the occasion, he felt a Charity more than deserving of both.
He carefully placed the bullets in the empty magazine and slid it back into the weapon. Chambering the first round, he stepped down onto the next stair of the platform to watch the duel and wait for the opportune moment.
-X-
The momentum of the fight built up like a storm, but 301 seemed to be gaining the upper hand. His rage-fueled adrenaline gave him superior strength and speed, making it difficult for Derek to keep up. After a few close calls Derek started to pull away, and that’s when it came. In his hesitation Derek had left himself wide open for attack, but there was only a split second for 301 to take it. Before he could even pause to ask himself whether or not he could kill his friend, his rage drove him forward of its own accord.
And by the time 301 recognized the opening as a feint, it was too late to take back his stroke.
Derek spun out of the way just in time and used his own momentum to drive his blade toward 301’s unguarded left side. Exusia stabbed straight through his shoulder, and pain ripped through 301’s body with such force that he lost his grip on Pax Aeterna, leaving the weapon to fall on the wet concrete of the Central Square. His shoulder burned, crawling with the feel of the diamond armor pulsing against his skin. In mere seconds he became too dizzy to stand and fell to his knees.
Filled with shock and agony, 301 looked up at his partner; it was all over. His identity was exposed, his vengeance unattained, and his life at an end. But what about Grace? Had she gotten away?
Derek gazed down upon him, his expression betraying utter horror at what he had done…evidently he hadn’t gotten the chance to consider just how far he was willing to go, either.
The blade had been driven straight through him, but the wound was not life-threatening. The threat came in what Derek would do next, now that 301 was helpless and completely at his mercy.
-X-
Grace saw from afar as Derek Blaine’s Spectral Gladius stabbed through Eli’s body. She screamed out in fear and despair and tried to run to him. But what she saw next froze her in her tracks. Napoleon Alexander descended the steps of the royal platform, his silver sidearm aimed straight at Eli’s back.
There was nothing she could do but watch.
-X-
301 heard the shots ring out: first one, and then a second. The first sent a sharp pain up his back and through the rest of his body, but the second produced an entirely different sensation. It wasn’t so much pain as his body communicating a clear message of mortal danger—and this was far more terrifying than anything he had ever experienced. As blood began to seep from his wounds he felt a strange combination of warmth and cold, as well as a sense of being emptied of life. He had been in too many battles and seen it too many times to deny what was happening to him: he was dying.
Derek withdrew his blade from 301’s shoulder and tossed it aside, catching 301 in his arms before he fell backward onto the concrete. 301 grew weaker by the second, and cast his gaze upward at the starless sky in a moment of thoughtless confusion. No light, he thought sadly. Only darkness everywhere. Then he found his partner’s face and saw tears forming in Derek’s eyes, visible despite the raindrops that streamed like rivers down his face.
“I’m sorry, 301,” Derek said, struggling against his emotions. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from the deceptions of the Elect. I…I tried my best.”
He shook his head weakly, “No one deceived me…but Alexander. Watch him, Derek. Watch him, and you’ll see for yourself.” His eyes fluttered shut, and in that moment it was as though all the anger and hatred he had been carrying transferred into his partner. With tears of rage, Derek Blaine poured that emotion into the very last promise he would give his friend.
“I will avenge you.”
301’s body went limp.
-X-
Grace stood rooted in place, her mouth open in astonishment. Eli’s hand fell from Derek Blaine’s shoulder, and his head rolled to the side like a dead man’s. She saw the
look of finality on Blaine’s face and knew: Elijah Charity was dead. She let out a loud wail of grief, a mixture of denial and his name, and started to close the distance between them. She would be taken back into custody and killed, she knew it, but she didn’t care. The man she loved was dead. Hope was dead.
Derek Blaine must have heard her scream, for he looked up from over his partner’s body and stared at her with contempt. He let Eli come to rest on the wet concrete, and then reached over for his Spectral Gladius and stood.
Crenshaw took hold of Grace’s arm, stopping her progress. She turned to face him and saw the same hurt and confusion she felt within, but that still could not comfort her or make her see reason. She had to get to him! Maybe if she could be by his side he might not really be dead. If anyone could call him back, it was her.
She struggled against Crenshaw, but he did not let her go, “No, Grace. There’s nothing more we can do. He’s gone!”
“No!” she wailed again, trying to twist from his grip like a madwoman. “He can’t be gone! He can’t be!” But Crenshaw was too strong for her, and he pulled her body into a firm grip so she could go no further.
Davian caught sight of them from several yards away and yelled, “General! We must retreat!”
The general nodded and dragged Grace away from the place where Eli lay unmoving, fighting off soldiers one-handed and holding onto her with the other. In the chaos many of the Great Army soldiers had abandoned their blockade to participate in the battle, so they met little resistance as they passed the parked tanks and withdrew from the Square.
But Grace could not feel relief. She felt nothing but the icy hands of loss clutched cruelly around her heart.
-X-
Derek sat down on the bottom step of the royal platform, clothes still soaked from the pouring rain. As he stared off into the distance, Napoleon Alexander walked down from the platform and placed a hand on Derek’s shoulder, “I am greatly indebted to you, Specter Blaine. If not for your actions, the Shadow Soldier may have won a great victory tonight.”
Derek shook his head, “It wasn’t him, sir. The Elect poisoned his mind and stole away his reason. They are the ones to blame for his death.”
Alexander smiled, though Derek did not see. His voice conveyed a false compassion, “The Elect have taken much from you.”
“Every last one of them deserves to die,” Derek said. “Every last one.”
“And they will,” Alexander reached down and offered Derek his hand. “I can give you the power to make that dream a reality.” Derek took the MWR’s hand without question. “Soon all the world will fear you.”
Alexander moved to ascend the platform, and as the MWR released him, Derek felt something fall from Alexander’s hand into his own. He looked down.
Set against the rain and blood that stained Derek’s palm was a silver X-shaped pin—the grand admiral’s rank pin.
“Sir,” two soldiers motioned to the body of his fallen partner. “What should we do with the body?”
Derek hesitated, then stood and responded coldly, “Follow procedure. Destroy it.”
45
LIZ HAD HEARD THE news as the fleet made its final preparations for battle. Word traveled through the Imperial Guard like a shockwave, as most deemed the Battle of the Central Square to be a great loss for the World System and thus great tidings for the Imperial Conglomerate of Cities. The tally stood with Grand Admiral Donalson dead, the rebel commander Grace Sawyer at large once again, and both Admiral McCall and the Shadow Soldier declared traitors.
It had been three days now, yet still she couldn’t get 301 out of her head. Things had changed between them by the time of her departure, but it was still difficult to think of him as being gone. They had grown up together in the Capital Orphanage, had been allies there and in their soldier training. In their teenage years she had been sure that he loved her, and for that reason was afraid to love him back. Now she would never know what they might have been…he was lost to her forever.
He already was, she thought. He would never look at me the same again, not after I betrayed him. When she learned that he had thrown in his lot with the rebellion she felt sure that he would have come with her during the separation if she had only asked. He obviously bore no lasting loyalty to the World System. Perhaps then he would be standing beside her now rather than being burnt to ash in some Alexandrian alley.
She stared out beyond the deck of Infallible to the calm sea, feeling the rush of wind as it blew through her hair. It was so peaceful, and she wanted to hold on to it for as long as she could. For at the end of this journey there would be no peace. When they reached their destination it would be war, and the destruction would not stop until one government fell to the mercies of the other.
“Still pining away after that Shadow Soldier, I see.”
Liz didn’t bother to turn as Justus came up beside her, leaning over on the railing as though he was on a yacht. I am the Chief of Command, you disrespectful fool, she wanted to say. But she didn’t, as she knew Justus to be the kind of man who thrived off the imbalance of others. If he thought his actions bothered her, he would only repeat them.
“Major,” she said, using the rank Sullivan had given him. “I trust you and your men are ready. I expect to make landfall in less than an hour.”
“We’ve been ready, Chief,” he grinned. “But seriously, what is it—was it, sorry—about that guy? I hear he had Miss USA, that Grace Sawyer, wrapped around his finger as well. Two of the world’s youngest, hottest, most powerful women…just curious to know his secret.”
“He and I were close, once,” she replied with a slight edge in her voice. “But that ended long ago. As to his secrets, I suppose they died with him.” Though he had many, she reflected. No official announcement had been made declaring his true identity, as she suspected the System wanted to keep that quiet. But she knew, as did a select few others, that he hadn’t simply been another enigma in the World System. He had been the son of a legend.
“You don’t trust me very much, Chief Aurora. I find that ironic considering you were the one who came to me with this insane plan.”
“I needed you,” Liz replied. “But no, I do not trust you. I saw the look in your eyes when you agreed to help us, Major, and it was not the look of a desperate man. You have your own agenda in this, though I can’t imagine what there could be for you in Alexandria.”
“Not Alexandria, per se,” Justus said. “But well done. I thought perhaps I might keep at least this one thing to myself, but it seems I underestimated you. What were you before Sullivan sullied your allegiance to the World System?”
“I was a Specter,” she said, placing a hand self-consciously on her Gladius. Not the best, perhaps, but a Specter all the same. “And before that I was an intelligence officer working in London.”
“Ah, London,” Justus nodded. “A terrible mess what happened with London and Edinburgh just before my rebellion gained traction. If they had held out a little longer we might have joined forces.”
“Neither of you even made safe your cities,” Liz retorted. “A fleeting dream that you might have sent any form of aid to one another. But yes, it was a mess, after. Part of my job was rooting out their rebel leaders and overseeing their interrogations. I did the same with Silent Thunder in Specter, but that’s not where this conversation is headed, is it? You work for me now, Major Justus. Tell me your endgame.”
Justus let out a short laugh, “There is no endgame, Chief Aurora…just a fool’s hope.”
“Armed only with hope some rebels become kings,” Liz replied. “Tell me.”
“You know, most say that Napoleon Alexander would not have been able to forge the World System without the aid of the US fleet, most notably this grand ship of yours we sail upon at this very moment. The government of that time hid it away with the hope that some of its absentee members might return and use it to push back the Persians. But instead they were used to prop history’s most powerful dictator on his throne.
A testament to the value of the biggest stick.”
“So you want to what?” Liz asked. “Steal the fleet?”
“No,” he grinned. “I want to find an even bigger stick.”
She laughed, “I’m sure you would.”
“Have you ever heard of Doctor Reginald Rose, Chief?”
“Of course I have,” she said. “The inventor of Solithium.”
“And the Spectral Gladius, and more besides,” Justus said. “But what you may not know is that the Spectral Gladius was simply the first step toward the construction of a super-weapon that would make a nuclear bomb look like a firecracker. Rumor has it that the good doctor was killed trying to stabilize a power source for this weapon. Imagine if you found it. If Alexander could build his System with these boats, what might we do with a weapon like that?”
Liz turned to look at him through narrowed eyes, “Sounds like little more than a legend to me, Major. You would do better to focus on the task at hand and forget such fantasies.”
“Ah,” he ran his eyes over her. “Must I forget them all?”
She opened her mouth to tell him just what he could do with those fantasies, but stopped at the approach of Infallible’s captain. “Chief of Command,” he spoke briskly. “We’ve come within range of the System’s patrol fleet.”
Liz pushed past Justus and led the way to the bridge, “Sound battle stations. Torpedoes only for the patrol, Captain. Save our other ammunition for the bombardment of the shore. Let’s see if we can’t get Napoleon Alexander’s attention.”
-X-
“Grand Admiral…I bring word from the Division One patrol fleet.”
“Proceed.”
“A fleet of warships has passed into System waters and is headed straight for the bay. The lead ship has been tagged as the Infallible, flying the flag of the Ruling Council’s Imperial Conglomerate. They are requesting weapons free.”