by Celeste Raye
The general nodded. “I am aware of that. I have always been a man who followed orders. I have always been a man who believed in the greater good. The greater good is no longer being served so I can no longer follow the orders that I have been given. The Federation must fall.”
Jeval nodded. He didn’t want to agree. He didn’t want to go to war. He was tired of fighting and running and hiding. He was sick and tired of a life spent dealing with the scars and wounds and bloody consequences of war.
But the universe had been at war for centuries, many of them. The period of peace that The Federation had brought had been short-lived as The Federation grew greedier and more demanding of its citizens. It took more for itself and left less for those who were merely citizens of a planet that The Federation ruled.
Talon looked down at the table. “There is one thing that I demand in order to join up with you and to assist you.”
General Bates face took on a hopeful expression. “So you would consider it then?”
Talon said, “I didn’t say that. I’m just saying that Old Earth needs assistance now. They need food, and they need water. They need medical assistance. They need the rovers eliminated. Can you promise that some sort of assistance will be sent to them when this is over?”
The general said, “Your ships must not have been there in the last few weeks then.”
The brothers exchanged glances. Jeval asked, “We have a ship headed there now but what do you mean?”
The general said, “It is destroyed. Did you not hear that news? Oh, I suppose you did not. You’re far too isolated, and you don’t have the tech to get news from that far across the universe.”
His eyes looked down at the desk, and his shoulders slumped. “They claim that it was an invasion by hostile species, but it wasn’t. The Federation decided that the war there was too much to deal with and the promises that they had made too expensive to keep. They couldn’t have the rest of the universe looking on and saying that The Federation did not keep its promises to one of its first Allied planets, so they destroyed it.”
A huge and yawning chasm opened up in Jeval’s chest. Old Earth had indeed been one of the first to ally itself with The Federation. At the time, it had been one of the strongest and most powerful planets in the universe.
The Federation had seen to it that it had fallen, and had become nothing more than a figurehead.
He knew just how many people had been there, and how many people had died. His mind went back to Margie, the woman that he loved whether he wanted to admit it or not, and he didn’t. Loving her was way too dangerous and there would be consequences such as he had never known before. His voice was thick and tight. “How did they destroy it?”
Bates said, “With mega-neutron atomizers. It’s dust now. There is nothing left. They even destroyed the moon and the outlying planets even though they were uninhabited and always have been.”
Jeval sighed inwardly. Bates was a man on a mission, and not just a mission to rebel against The Federation, but a mission to keep his son from dying—or maybe to join him in death. The two things were equal in the longest view.
He twisted a bit in the chair. Bates regarded them all. His eyebrows beetled together. “Do you know about…about my son?”
Renall said, “I think the better question is are you doing this to simply save your son? Because the truth is if that is your reason, then you put all of our lives at risk.”
Bates hung his head. His voice was gruff. “I am doing it because of him, in part, yes. But the larger part is that The Federation plans to kill anyone and everyone in its way. They’ve discovered a wormhole, one they don’t yet have the tech to use, but they have time to work it out, and the brain power. Beyond that wormhole lies parts of the universe we have never seen before. They intend to go after it, to take it as their own. Imagine that: even more planets and worlds that they could rule if they could only open that wormhole.”
Jeval stiffened. He had read only as far as he needed to in Bates’ mind. That the man wanted to atone for what he considered his past sins was obvious. This he had not seen but the bitterness in Bates’ voice told him it was the truth, and all of his siblings heard that truth tolling through those words too.
Bates continued. “Right now the best way to strike at The Federation is to close that wormhole. It can be done, but there will be much sacrifice on all sides. The first part would be, of course, to get to the labs trying to work out the process and destroy them before they can.”
Marik pointed out, “You are talking about taking a massive amount of lives.”
“The greater good, right?” Bates tone was bleak. “I am aware of that just as I am aware that not all who work there are totally loyal or even feel right about what it is that they are doing. But as long as any of those with any of that information lives, they will be a threat to the safety of the universe. We have no idea what lies beyond that wormhole. It may be too big for even The Federation to handle. Their arrogance could destroy everything, and add their greed to it and you have a recipe for total annihilation.”
Marik said, “You’re saying whatever beings exist over there, they may be powerful enough to take The Federation on, so why not let them?”
“I’d prefer The Federation not sacrifice most of the population of what we have always thought was the universe while they tried to do so,” Bates said in a tart voice.
Jeval said, “That’s logical.”
Bates said, “I had to weigh the choices. I expect you will as well. Yes, we will have to take a lot of lives. I understand this. But the loss of life that could happen if we don’t is too great.”
Jeval already knew that. They all did. He said, “We want peace.”
“As do I,” Bates said, “But we all know there’s only one real path to it, and it is a bloody one.”
Renall rested his forehead in his hands. “So why our planet?”
“It’s far enough out of the way to stay out of The Federation’s spotlight. It corners the universe, and it would be a good place to hide ships and weaponry, to stockpile those things as there is so much open surface.”
The general’s answer didn’t surprise any of them. They’d already reasoned that out as well but hearing it from his lips made it seem so much more like a foregone conclusion.
They had no choice. If what Bates thought might happen actually could happen, they and everything else in the universe would die.
He said, “I have one more question.”
Bates said, “Only one?”
Jeval gave him a tight smile. “Only one that I can think of right now. They destroyed Old Earth, so what is to stop them from destroying us as well?”
Bates sighed. “Nothing. The odds of any of us surviving this are so low they might as well not exist. But if we can make sure the tech they are using to try to open the wormhole, and none who might have the science used to work out a plan to do so survive, we could stave this off.”
Renall said, “Stave it off?”
Bates said, “We have to let the universe know what it is The Federation plans. Until all stand against them, there’s no way to kill them off. You know this. There must be a total rebellion, not just the pockets of it we have seen over the years.”
Bates’ eyes turned to Jeval. “I need you because I know of that thing you possess. You could topple their entire research lab from a distance, and you know it.”
Marik leaped from the chair he sat in. “To do so would mean his death! To do that would drain him totally dry and kill him!”
Bates said, “Then give enough for the men I command, that we will all command, to get into that place and level it. If it means dying inside those walls as they implode around me, I am willing to do that. I am willing to die for this. I am. I do not expect you to feel the same, of course.”
They would all die, most likely. On that score, Bates had been one hundred percent correct. The retribution for destroying that research lab would be swift and harsh. Jeval said, “I will he
lp. I think they all will too, but I want a promise from you.”
Bates said, “If I can give that to you, I will.”
It was a concession, but not enough of one. “If we all die there, you must have some sort of decoy in place; you must be able to make it look as if the attack came from elsewhere, was plotted out elsewhere, so that the people here don’t find themselves being hit with the same weapon blast that destroyed Old Earth.”
Bates’ smile was not nice. “Oh, I have a plan for that already. I have spent the last year inserting evidence that proves, substantially, that several of the highest-ranking Federation officials are our allies. Because of that, they shall die too. The best way to kill off anything is with a headshot; don’t you agree?”
Jeval couldn’t argue that. None of them could.
Bates asked, “Do we have an accord?”
Jeval looked at his siblings. They had all known for some time that the war was coming. They had all known that the rebellion against The Federation would catch them up in its grip. But were they willing to cast their lot with this man and his plot and risk everything when it might be simpler to just sit it out and wait to see if his dire predictions about the unknown wormhole and The Federation’s opening of it, and the possible consequences of that action, came true?
They were.
They had no choice at all really.
Margie stood by the door as he came out of it. His gaze went to her. He had refused to allow himself to consider the words and actions she had used when Bates had demanded an audience.
He’d had to block that from his mind because if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to focus on that conversation with Bates, and he would have been distracted by all the questions her words and her being there at his side brought up.
Now that the thing with Bates was over, he had no choice but to let those questions come. They would not stay buried anymore.
His siblings and their mates drifted off. Bates left and got back on his ship, but the ships didn’t leave. Margie stood there, her wide eyes locked onto his face and her bright lips slightly parted.
Those lips he wanted to kiss so badly, that face he wanted to cup between his hands and just stare at until he burned every detail into his memory.
Because he might not come back from the mission he had just agreed to undertake.
Margie looked down at her feet and then back up at his face. A wry smile played out on her mouth. “You’re not going to tell me what just happened, are you?”
“Yes, but…but not here.” That surprised him. He had not meant to tell her. It was not the time. The last thing he needed was to have a heartache left behind. This was a suicide mission, and that was why he had insisted that Renall and Marik stay behind. He and Jessica and Talon alone would go with Bates to the research lab, and Bates damn well better be able to provide the backup and troops he had promised, but even if he did, there was little likelihood he would return alive.
Jessica would know the odds, but she would go anyway. She would because that was her nature and she would die with Talon before she lived without him.
For one moment, he really wondered if he could say the same thing about Margie, and if he could, would he allow her to go?
No.
Hell no.
He loved her too much to see her die.
Loved her.
That hit him like a jagged bolt of the purest and most deadly lightning. He loved her, and the last thing he wanted was for her to die.
They set off, and she asked, “Do you want to come to my hut? I have some honey and those figs you like. I…I picked them this morning.”
Just that morning, after he had made love to her and left her. Had she picked them just for him?
She had, and he knew it. She disliked the fruit, hated it in fact, with a real and vibrant intensity and made no secret of it. His chest hurt; he was sure if he touched a finger to that chest of his, he’d feel his heart breaking right there below the skin. “Yes, thank you.”
They turned up a grassy path. She said, “You know what?”
“What?”
“I don’t regret it. None of it.”
His head ached now too. The pressure building in his brain was from his mind trying to tell him to stay silent, to not put into words the feelings he had managed to hold at bay for so long. “Oh?”
“I don’t. Not going. Not being your sex slave, and being your sex slave,” there was a laugh lurking in her voice, but there was sadness in her words too. “I don’t even regret having killed that being that tried to kill you. In fact, I would kill any who would try and never regret it.”
She stopped walking. The sun lay on her face and hair, and there were silvery tears running down her face now. His thumb pressed against the bottom of her eye, rubbing one tear away. He said, “Margie, you know why this can’t be.”
“Because you can kill people, blow things up just by wanting to. Because you are afraid that you will somehow get me pregnant and that our child will die.”
Now was the time to tell her that he had to go. That he probably wouldn’t come back.
He said, “Let’s go inside. This is private.”
Her crestfallen face hurt him to the core, but she didn’t argue, and for that he was grateful.
Chapter Seven
How could she tell him that she was pregnant? He would find out eventually. Jenny kept no secrets from Marik, and even if she kept that one, Marik too would be able to sense her impending child. He was a natural healer like Jenny, and she knew it was far better for Jeval to hear it from her than to hear it from one of them, but fear kept her silent as they entered her home.
The table that one of her fellow Revants had made from a few bits of wood and stone was pretty, and the flowers she had plucked and set into a small drinking vessel and water that graced the center of that table lent a bright splash of color to it as well. The figs were in a bowl and the honey in a container made of some clever material that was clear. The sun lit the flowers, streamed through the golden honey, and sent a wash of light through the room.
Her heart ached. She understood why so many who had had so much back on Old Earth felt they were being downgraded, but for her, that simple place with its simple furnishings and pleasures was the best place that she had ever known, and she felt a pang of sheer love for it—and for the being who stood in the center of the one-room structure, gazing at her with his incredible eyes and a troubled expression on his face that hurt her to the heart. She asked, “I have bread too; would you like…we can have a small meal.”
He strode across the room. His hands cupped her face, and he stared down into her eyes. “Why is it you are so able to hide from me?”
“You can’t read people or beings unless they let you in, or you go into them. You never have with me.”
And she really hoped that he wouldn’t try it just then either. She had a lot to hide.
He said, “That’s not what I mean. I mean most beings, well, humans anyway, wear everything right on their face. Their expressions and body language make it easy to know just what they are thinking and feeling but you…you always keep everything hidden. You seem to be happy and smiling, but you aren’t, most of the time. I can see that. I just don’t know why you hide one or the other.”
“Most humans do.” Her throat was so raw that the words hurt. She swallowed back a salty lump. “Jeval, I love you. You have to know that.”
“I do.” His eyes didn’t move away from hers. “You have to know I care for you too Margie but…but we cannot be mates. We can’t be life mates.”
“Why?”
Everything was in that question. She knew every answer he would give, and she knew that for every answer he gave, there would be a massive blow leveled onto her heart, but she knew she had to hear him list them, so she could argue against them.
Above everything else the Revant were logical. They valued that, they valued logic over emotion, and maybe if she could make him see that his fears about a c
hild, and falling in love, and life mating were emotional things, she might be able to convince him that it was only logical that they remain together—that they be life mates.
She expected him to say any number of things. Nothing could have prepared her for his answer. “I might not live much longer.”
Every cell, every nerve, every fiber of her being, went taut and tingling. Her body went so rigid that pain from those stiffened muscles traveled upward, exploding agony into her skull. Her mouth hung agape, and she squinted at him, trying to puzzle out the meaning behind those words. “Jeval…what? What are you saying?”
He looked away from her then. He swallowed so hard she could see his throat working. “We need to talk.”
She struggled to drag air into her lungs. Her legs were so stiff she couldn’t unlock them long enough to move, so she just stood there, rooted to the spot and staring at him. “Please tell me…”
His hand propelled her to the chairs at the table. He pulled one out and sat her down. Her bottom hit the hard wood and she sat there, clenched like a fist and with that pain traveling all through her, rocketing across every inner system and leaving a sick and dazed feeling in its wake.
Jeval was dying?
No.
Please no!
His hands lay on the table. Their fingers were so close, close enough that if she moved hers just a bit she could take his hands, but that shock kept her immobile, kept her from reaching out. There was a hard and sharp stone just below her breast, and the weight of it made her body sag a bit. Tears went running down her face, but she didn’t notice them. Her lips finally shaped out words. “What is it? What is happening?”
He lifted a hand from the table and ran it through his hair. “You know as well as I do that the rebellion has been small and widely flung until now.”
Horror rose up. “Are you saying it isn’t anymore? We have thought for a long time that it would grow and that the rebels would decide to take on The Federation head on, but so far they haven’t.”