"So . . ." Addy rubbed her eyes. "Kemi turned into a seashell?"
Lailani groaned. "Addy! Her soul rose from her body. It entered this mystical vessel. The soul is a force of light, of energy, of consciousness, and we witnessed a miracle here. We witnessed her soul rising. And . . ." Seeing Addy's perplexed expression, Lailani sighed. "Fine. Yes, Addy. She turned into a seashell."
Addy gave an impressed whistle. "Damn. That's some Buddhist magic right there."
Marco looked up at Eldest, holding the conch with both hands.
"What do I do with it?" he whispered.
"We'll take her with us!" Addy said, answering for the yurei. "We'll carry seashell-Kemi everywhere! We'll buy her a seat at hockey games, give her a place at the poker table, and at night, she can sleep in a fishbowl."
"Addy!" Lailani groaned.
"Fine, fine," Addy said. "We'll buy her an aquarium. A small, affordable one. Maybe a couple goldfish for company."
Lailani pulled Addy back. "Come, Addy, let's give Marco some space. Let's go find some tall buildings to raise our flags on."
Blessedly, Addy liked the idea, and she wandered off with Lailani.
Same old Addy after all, Marco thought.
He gazed at the seashell in his hand. He looked back up at Eldest.
"Can Kemi hear me?" he said. "Is she still conscious? Do we do as Addy said, and just . . . keep her in here? You said that the shell is temporary."
Eldest placed a hand upon the shell. She gazed into Marco's eyes.
"I do not know the mysteries of the afterlife," Eldest said, "only legends, only songs and tales from ancient days. But I know, Marco, that the soul will not live forever in a shell. Every turn of the moon, more of her light will escape, until one day the shell is cold and barren and the soul is nothing but a memory."
"Then why did you give me this shell?" Marco said. "That seems cruel."
Eldest removed her mask, revealing her scarred face, a face destroyed by a war long ago. She smiled at him sadly. "So that you could say goodbye. So that I can take her with me, if you wish it. We keep some yurei souls in our ships, where they fill our forests, where they power our engines, where they shine their light upon our enemies. We release others among the stars. Some we release onto the surfaces of worlds, where they live in memory forever, or so our tales tell. If you wish it, I will take the soulshell with me. And I will release Kemi in the Deep Sky, and there perhaps she will find eternal peace and joy among the fallen yurei, living in a world of dreams and memories."
Marco thought back to the illusionary world inside the black hole. The place that had tested him. Perhaps the yurei could create such a world for Kemi. A place of fairytales. Of unicorns and knights and castles. Yet it seemed to Marco unbearably lonely. To spend a second life, perhaps an eternal one, on a distant world, a mere illusion, to be among the souls of alien life who could never understand her experience?
"No," he said softly. "I will find a place for her here. On Earth. The way some among us spread the ashes of the dead in beautiful places, I will release her soul in a place of peace. Here upon her world that she fought for, that she died to save. How long do I have, Eldest? Before she fades away?"
"Perhaps a year," said Eldest. "Perhaps two or three. I don't know how it will be with human souls, and this future I cannot see. It depends on how strong her soul is."
"It's strong," he said.
Eldest smiled again, and this time her smile was warm, a smile full of goodness, of joy. She placed her hands atop his.
"Heed her advice, Marco. Be happy. Should the darkness creep again, should the weight of memories seem too heavy to bear, look at the stars. We will be there, Marco. We will be with you always, even in your darkest hours." Eldest placed a small wooden box in his hands. "When you're ready, when the grief is too great, open this box. This is my parting gift to you. Goodbye, Marco."
Eldest placed her kabuki mask back on. She hovered away like a ghost, fading into the gliding ash. All across the city, the yurei flowed away, as if they too were wisps of souls. Their ships rose higher in the sky, vanishing into the light.
* * * * *
Addy climbed the stairwell, banner in hand. Lailani climbed behind her, still holding her gun, seeking marauders. They found no more aliens. Not in this building. Not anywhere on their way here. The enemy had fallen. The city was theirs.
Earth is ours, Addy thought.
"Fuckin' marauders." Lailani panted behind her on the staircase. "Worst thing they ever did was break the damn elevator."
"Come on!" Addy said. "It's only thirty stories."
Lailani gave a sound halfway between groan and squeal. "Easy for you! Your legs are longer than my entire body."
Addy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well, you also weigh about as much as one of my legs, Tiny, so you should have an easy climb."
They kept climbing. Finally they emerged onto the roof of the building, one of the few that still stood in Toronto. From up here, they could see for kilometers in every direction.
Addy stared upon her home.
"Damn," she said.
Nearly all the city was gone. Buildings lay flattened. Street after street lay in ruins. Piles of rubble rose everywhere. Piles of corpses too. Addy had been a soldier for years, but she had never seen such destruction.
"It looks like the ruins of Stalingrad from the old photos," she said.
Lailani emerged onto the roof behind her. She fell to her knees, panting. "At least most of the tall buildings are gone. Bloody hell."
Addy didn't answer. For a moment she couldn't speak, only gaze at her home. She could see her old street from here, the place where she had grown up. A few streets away, she saw the block where the library had stood. Her childhood, her youth—gone. All these places—existing now only in memory.
She could see Steve below. That hulking, stupid, lovable brute had joined Marco, and the two were clearing away rubble, seeking survivors. Addy knew there would be few. Almost everyone she had known growing up here was gone.
"I fought the marauders for a year," she whispered. "And every day, I thought that I would die." Her voice choked. "I lost many friends. I thought our battle was doomed, that dying in battle was preferable to dying in the slaughterhouse, fattened up and butchered like an animal. I wanted to die in battle, Lailani. But we won." She turned toward her friend, tears on her cheeks. "We won."
Lailani embraced her. "We won."
"So why does it feel so bad?" Addy whispered.
Lailani wiped her eyes. "There are no true winners in war. There is no victory without sacrifice. There is no peace without spilling blood to earn it. We won, but we lost so much. We found new life, but we saw so much death. And it hurts. And it will always hurt. And we'll always miss those we lost."
Addy thought of them, all those who had fallen. Her parents. Most of her friends from basic training. Most of her fellow rebels. Kemi, one of her dearest, oldest friends. And she thought of Haven, how even after defeating the scum, they had fought the memories for years. How they had never left the abyss of Corpus.
"Can we ever be happy again?" Addy said. "Or will this be like after the scum? We go back to a haunted, scarred life, wretched beggars in the ruins of a world we saved?"
"We will be scarred," Lailani said. "Our bodies. Our souls. We will be haunted. Peace? Not for us. There is never peace for veterans. We fought for another generation. We fought so that the children born after this war can grow up in peace, in joy. Those children will never understand us. When they grow up. When they rebuild this world. They won't understand the pain we lived through. And that's good." She laughed through her tears. "Let them worry about other things."
Addy looked over the ruins and sighed. "So, off to a life of nightmares and poverty."
Lailani smiled thinly. "No. Not poverty, maybe." She reached into her pocket, then held out her palm. "Before they left, the yurei gave me this. They told me I have to share, but . . ." She shrugged and winked. "We'll see."
&
nbsp; Addy's eyes widened. "Fucking hell! Are those azoth crystals?"
"I think so," Lailani said. "Unless they're fake. The yurei know they're valuable to us humans, that we use them for interstellar travel. They're worth a lot, you know. More than diamonds. People will still need to build azoth engines, to power the great starships of the future." She hefted the azoth crystals in her hand. They chinked. "I don't think we'll be poor."
Addy rubbed her eyes. "Are you telling me we're rich?"
Lailani nodded. "We're rich."
"We're rich," Addy repeated.
"Yes, as I said."
Addy laughed. "We're rich! We're wealthy! We can buy all the hot dogs we could eat! We can buy mansions and thrones and—" She bit her lip. She looked at Lailani. "We should probably use the money to rebuild, right? To help the survivors."
Lailani nodded. "That would be the noble thing to do."
"But we can keep a little bit," Addy said. "Just enough to build that house on the beach. Marco would insist. Can't let the boy down."
"That Marco!" Lailani shook her head. "He'd probably insist we buy a few pet Dobermans too. Cute ones. With floppy ears."
"He's so selfish!" Addy said. "He'll insist we buy new hockey gear too. And a new motorcycle." She shook her head sadly. "Some people just won't think of others. Now come on. Let's raise this flag so we can go shopping."
They unfurled the flag, and they hung it from the edge of the building. It billowed in the wind, a blue circle in a black sky. The flag of Earth. Below, across the city, survivors saw the flag waving, and they stood and saluted.
Earth, Addy thought. Our planet. May you never more weep. May blood and tears and ash never more stain your soil. Earth. You are our world. You are precious. You will forever be our home.
* * * * *
James Petty groaned, shoved aside the metal beam, and saw sunlight.
He gasped like a fish out of water.
Cold air flowed into his lungs.
The air of Earth.
He grunted, pain pounding across him, and shoved aside another beam. He gripped a crack in the hull, and he pulled himself toward the light.
Coughing, Petty managed to crawl out onto the battered, burnt roof of the HDFS Minotaur.
He knelt, struggling for breath, looking around him. The massive warship lay in the ruins of Toronto, stretching across several city blocks. He knew it would never fly again. The bridge had shattered. The engines had detached from the hull. The hangars had caved in. The old bird, the oldest and toughest in the fleet, was dead.
But you went down with honor, girl. You went down with a roar.
The battle, it seemed, was over. Human troops were marching through the city, chanting of their victory. Marauders lay dead on the roadsides. The ravagers lay smashed across the city.
"We won, sir." The voice came from beside him. "The Ghost Fleet was here! You missed it, sir. They were beautiful. They were so beautiful."
Petty turned to see Osiris lying nearby on the Minotaur's roof. The android was still missing her lower half, and cables dangled from her torso. Petty groaned and sat down beside her. Below, rescue crews and medics were rushing in and out of the ship; they had carved openings in the hull. Petty knew that he should join them, should help them seek survivors. But right now, he couldn't stand up.
He rested beside Osiris, gazing at the ruins with her.
"I'm sorry I missed the Ghost Fleet," he said.
Osiris smiled. "They flew all over the world, sir! Many are still flying. I'm picking up reports from major cities around the globe. Tokyo. Beijing. Jerusalem. Paris. Hundreds of other cities. The marauders are fleeing Earth, sir. Those that still live, at least, and there aren't many of those. They're leaving our planet." She clasped his hand. "We won, sir. We won this war."
"And you served admirably, Osiris," he said. "When they first assigned you to my ship, I disliked you. I mistrusted androids. But you are a fine officer. I'm proud to have fought with you."
Osiris placed a hand on his knee and smiled. "Why did the android lose her legs, sir?"
"Why?"
"Because the marauders shook her starship while she was shaving them. It's funny because androids don't shave their legs, sir. We're naturally hairless."
Petty couldn't help it. He burst out laughing.
"We'll get you new legs," he said. "Hairy ones this time."
She gasped. "Sir!" She thought for a moment. "Yes. Yes, I'd like that."
He was laughing again when he saw the soldier below on the street.
His laughter died.
She was a young woman, grime staining her long blond hair, ash and blood covering her face. She wore a tattered olive green uniform, and a rifle hung across her back. She paused below the Minotaur, and she gazed up at him.
Petty rose to his feet. Carefully, he climbed down toward the road. His body was bruised and scratched, and every movement shot pain through him, but he forced himself to keep moving. He limped toward her.
She smiled, eyes damp, and saluted. "Sir."
Petty felt a lump in his throat. He returned the salute. "Captain Ben-Ari."
She gave a small sound halfway between laugh and sob. "I've been demoted to private, remember, sir?"
He could no longer speak. He pulled her into his arms.
"You did it, Einav."
She wrapped her arms around him and laid her cheek against his chest. "We both did, sir." Suddenly Ben-Ari was crying against him. "And we lost many."
Petty nodded and stroked her hair.
Yes, we lost many.
Thousands of soldiers he had commanded—gone. His family—gone.
He reached into his pocket, and he felt Coleen's tags there.
I lost one daughter, he thought, holding Ben-Ari. But I gained another.
The medics rushed toward them, and Petty let them tend to him. His wounds would heal quickly, he knew. Earth's wounds would take longer to heal. It would take years, maybe decades to recover, to rebuild. Even centuries later, perhaps, Earth would reel from these two devastating wars. There was still much work to do.
I can no longer save this world for you, Coleen. But I can make this a good world for millions who still live. For millions of young men and women who will seek a new life, who will defend this world from future enemies. They are all my children. I will build a good life for them.
* * * * *
They buried Kemi in the northern woods. For a year, the forces of the Rebellion had hidden among these trees, had fought here through the winter and searing summer, and the forest still bore the memories of their war. Bullets and casings, marauder claws, burnt army vehicles, and skeletons littered the forest.
But Marco and his friends found a hill lush with maples and oaks, and from its crest they could see a meadow and lake. Dragonflies flitted over rushes, and crickets and blackbirds sang. In a desolate landscape, here was an oasis of beauty. Marco realized that he knew this place, that he had hiked here once with Kemi, that they had paused upon the hill, gazed at the lake, and rested in the shade of the maples. He knew that she should rest here.
They buried her on the hill under a maple. They buried her with a view of the water. But Marco knew they were burying only an empty vessel, and when they lowered her into the grave, he felt the soulshell's warmth in his pocket.
He stood above the grave, and he looked at his companions. At Ben-Ari. At Lailani. At Addy.
"I don't know what to say." Marco lowered his head. "I'm a writer. I'm trying to be a writer, at least. I've always loved words, have prided myself on my ability to weave them. But right now, I don't know what to say. I want to speak about how much I loved Kemi. How much her smile warmed my heart. How, even through so much pain and struggle, she remained so sweet, so happy. How whenever I felt lonely or sad or scared, just seeing her smile, just being in her presence, instantly made me so happy. How she was so brave, strong, intelligent, but much more importantly—how kind she was. And how she made everyone around her instantly smile with
her."
Ben-Ari touched his shoulder. "I think you know exactly what to say, and you just said it." The captain turned toward the grave. She spoke softly. "You were not only my soldier, Kemi. You were not only the best pilot I've known. You were also my friend. You were my best friend. I loved you like a sister. Goodbye, Captain Kemi Abasi."
She had given her pilot a posthumous promotion. Captain Abasi, heroine of Earth.
Lailani knelt and placed lilacs on the grave. "Goodbye, Kemi," she whispered, able to say no more, then stepped back and leaned against Ben-Ari.
Addy hesitated, then placed a single coin on the grave. "I saved it," she said. "It's from when you and I went to a movie together. Remember? Marco was supposed to join us, but he stayed home to study, because he's a huge nerd." She shot Marco a glare, then looked back at the grave, and her eyes softened. "But we had lots of fun, Kemi. We became really good friends that day. I'll miss you. Even though you turned into a seashell, and you're probably eavesdropping from Marco's pocket." She sniffed. "I promise that whenever I eat oysters, I'll think of you."
Marco placed a hand on her shoulder. "I think we get the point, Addy, thank you. That was beautiful."
Addy blew her nose. "I didn't get to the part about how mermaids wear seashell bras because B-shells are too small and D-shells are too big."
"Jesus, she's turned into Osiris," Marco said.
Lailani took hold of Addy's arm. "Come, Addy, it's walking time again."
After the two women stepped downhill, Marco remained by the grave, staring down at it.
"Are you all right, Marco?" Ben-Ari said softly. She put a hand on his shoulder.
He nodded, wiped his eyes, and smiled. "Yes, ma'am. For the first time in a very long time, I think that I'm all right."
Surprising him, his commander kissed his cheek. "I'll go join the others. Take as much time here as you need."
Marco remained on the hill, alone with Kemi, for a long time. He listened to the maples rustle and the insects chirp. He watched ducks in the lake below and the butterflies that flitted between the wildflowers. He inhaled the deep, rich scent of the forest.
Earth Valor (Earthrise Book 6) Page 24