The Esoteric Design: Disbanding Hope

by A. R. Crebs

  “Wonder why they pulled back?” Aren asked. “You think we got to Walten? Think he called off the war?”

  Aria’s expression twisted. She was unsure. “I wouldn’t ever think Walten would be the man to back down, especially when teamed up with Sapphire. I don’t think she’d want him to retreat either. I dunno. Doesn’t feel right. Something’s up.”

  Just then, Aren put his finger to his ear. He looked deep in thought, nodding to himself. Aria watched him. After only a couple of seconds, he lowered his hand and diligently continued his work on her DNAIS.

  “Clarke just called. He says there’s an urgent call on his end. He wants us to meet up with him ASAP,” the young man said. He held Aria firmly in place, not allowing her to tug away. “Almost done, just give me a sec.”

  He poked her pressure points, asking if everything felt alright. She quickly nodded as she tested out her elbow and digits. Aren pinched a capacitor between his tweezers.

  “Just let me place this, and you’ll be all set,” he said in a strained voice as he concentrated on inserting the itty-bitty piece into Aria’s chip. With a tiny click, Aria flinched as the item charged up. “Done!”

  Aren and Aria stood; Troy had already gathered the scattered tools and dropped them into the pilot’s bag. Together they marched downstairs to catch a ride in one of Kovacevic’s buggies to the hospital, Aria tugging the war-hungry general along.

  At the hospital, Aria was relieved to see that James Clarke appeared much healthier. He had color to his face, and his eyes looked less weary. Grayson was still in the corner, right where they had left him. He stood straight as a board, eyes locked on the doorway. He nodded at Aria and her group as they entered the room.

  “What’s up?” Aria asked, plopping into the seat next to Clarke’s bed.

  “I have an unusual call on the line. I figured you would want to be here for this conversation,” Clarke said. He didn’t seem amused, but there was something about the look in his eye that proved things were getting a bit odd.

  “Who’s on the line?” she asked, sincerely interested.

  Clarke clicked onto his DNAIS, a projection hovering above the bed. A giant face fluttered on screen.

  “Feyette!” Aria shouted.

  The man on the screen jumped a bit at the sound of her voice. He looked in her direction, and Aria noticed his tear-streaked face. Had Feyette been crying? Now things were getting weird. Clarke let Aria do all the talking. Most likely, he already knew the details of what was going on.

  “Ms. Ivanov,” Feyette responded, his baritone voice quaking with nervousness.

  “I noticed you pulled out your men. Dare I ask why?” she asked.

  Feyette’s twitchy gaze fled from Aria to the others gathered around her. “It’s…Mr. Walten. He…he’s been murdered.”

  Aria’s eyes widened. She couldn’t help the twitch of her smile. “Oh, really?” she asked, sounding more pleased than intended. “Did he have a run-in with some rogue assassin while he was drinking champagne on the rooftop of his castle?”

  Feyette’s glare typically could cut through anybody’s soul, but it did nothing to hinder Aria’s resolve. “I know you are enjoying this, ma’am, but perhaps you’d like the details before you start your celebrations.”

  Aria rolled her eyes, folding her arms across her chest. She waited, listening intently to what Feyette had to say.

  “As much as you are apparently enjoying the news of Walten’s death, I’d like to make it clear that it was not a rogue assassin, vigilante, or mercenary who had taken his head as a trophy.” Feyette fiddled with his own DNAIS, pulling up a second screen. “It was Sapphire,” he said in a haunted tone.

  Aria stiffened at the sight of the security feed of the rotunda where the elitists held their meetings. The room was covered in human remains. Sapphire stood atop a large wooden table, her eyes locked on a frightened Walten. In a burst of red, the CEO was killed, his body ripped apart. Clarke gave an audible gasp, as did Aren.

  “As you can see…it was a little savage.” Feyette quickly terminated the security video.

  The room was silent. The weight of the situation was nearly suffocating. Humans no longer had to fear each other. There was a greater threat–Sapphire.

  “How does it feel, Feyette, to see the death of Mr. Walten?” Aria asked.

  Feyette glowered at the woman.

  “Aria!” Clarke reprimanded her.

  She kept her stare locked onto Feyette’s. “You killed a lot of innocent people, Feyette.”

  “By Walten’s orders," Feyette replied.

  “You know the rules! Walten or not, what you did was wrong!” she shouted.

  “As his bodyguard and general to his army, I had to follow his orders,” he quarreled.

  “Ethics and morality go out the window when a rich kid doesn’t get his way, huh?” she remarked.

  Aria knew about Feyette’s history. In the beginning, he was a respected soldier from the Underbelly. He had served and protected for many years beneath Walten’s father. Feyette quickly became a general and had a world-renowned reputation for being a great and honest man. After the death of Walten Sr., and ownership of the company fell onto his thirteen-year-old son’s lap, Feyette’s reputation quickly tarnished. He followed all orders from the boy without hesitation. What began as a father and son relationship between the two had quickly turned into a disgusting display of power-hungry madness. The young Walten’s requests for reign had given Feyette too much power. So much that Feyette had forgotten his roots. The day the Underbelly was destroyed was the day the world lost all respect for General Jeron Feyette.

  “I don’t deny that the actions I’ve made these past few weeks have been less than acceptable by the guidelines of war. In the end, it is still war. And if I had refused, what would have happened to Bio-Tech? You all know very well what it’s like to be branded as traitors,” Feyette said.

  “By Walten’s false accusations! He was pushing the blame on us!” she shouted.

  Clarke finally interrupted the little feud. “Arguing won’t solve a thing. Aria, we all know Feyette is a piece of shit; can we move on to something else?”

  Feyette looked to the President, his dark eyes widening. After a pause, the general nodded. Aria huffed and sat back in her chair, glaring at the projection.

  “So, Walten’s dead. What the hell do you want from us?” she asked.

  “An alliance,” he replied.

  “What?! You want an alliance?! After everything you’ve put us through?” Aria asked, bewildered. “You’ve killed your own people, allowed Sapphire’s demons to destroy the city you grew up in, and have started unjust wars all over the world!”

  “And Fiona. He killed Fiona,” Aren added.

  “You ordered Ivory’s sister to be killed,” Aria stated in a deathly tone.

  Feyette’s expression made no change. He remained numb to her scathing words. “I’m tired, ma’am. I really am. I've had enough of all the fightin’. I’m tired of being a ghost. I’ve lost everything. And all by my own hands. Bio-Tech was my home. Fightin’ was all I knew. Walten, well he was the son I never had. Sure, he was spoiled as hell, but it was my responsibility to make sure he grew up into the fine elitist that he was. I know he was a monster, but I would say that’s because he was greatly misguided by his father’s dying words. In the end, Walten was only trying to bring the Creator back to this world. He had plans to bring Heaven to us. As backward as his methods were, he undoubtedly has gathered some attention. He was only following through with his father’s ideas. It was a dark plan planted in the boy’s head when he was too young to understand how the world worked.”

  Feyette’s tone lowered. “I know it isn’t an excuse, but I’ve lost everything. Allow me to make up for the years I’ve done wrong in my duties. I’ve already sent out a peace signal to all city-states. I’ve got my higher-ups trying to negotiate alliances as we speak.”

  “And if we ally with you, what do you have to offer us?” Aria
asked.

  “My military. You have my army at your disposal,” he offered.

  Aria leaned forward. “You will take orders from me.”

  “I didn’t think it’d be any other way, ma’am,” Feyette agreed.

  “What? We’re actually allying with him?” Aren grumbled.

  Troy grabbed Aren’s shoulder. He nodded at the young man, his face dead serious. As much as the pilot hated the idea of it, he knew it was an invaluable option. They needed the whole world on their side.

  “Is that all?” Aria asked.

  Feyette lifted his chin, looking down at her. “Plans.”

  “Plans?” she repeated.

  “I know what Sapphire plans to do next.”

  Aria clamped her hands together, a wry smile covering her face. Perhaps the man could prove useful to them. “And what is that, exactly?”

  Feyette returned her crooked smirk. He pulled up a map for them to view. The southern part of the United Americas highlighted in red. As the map zoomed in, a circle marked around the Amazonian Desert, home to the largest resource of Earth’s natural water. The Amazonian Desert also housed the giant water spigots that sprayed hundreds of millions of gallons of ocean water into the atmosphere each day as a way to tame the harsh solar radiation from the sun.

  “Oh, shit…” Aria mumbled.

  “I get that you understand what this means,” Feyette said.

  “Yup. I would guess that she not only wants to destroy our natural water supply, but she also wants to cook us slowly.” The woman grimaced at the thought.

  “Hmm…barbecue,” Troy added his two cents.

  “I…I don’t want to be a hotdog,” Aren muttered.

  Kovacevic slapped the two men upside their heads, causing them both to groan.

  “Sounds about right,” Feyette continued. “I’m not completely up to date on the details. She usually kept her meetings private with Walten. As far as I know, she’s more than capable of causing some damage down there. Not only that, but Camery had fashioned together a rather hefty Faze Shield of sorts, something capable of disrupting energy fields by at least fifty meters.”

  “Holy crap, what would she want with that?” Troy asked, rubbing the back of his head.

  “All I know is…she’s got more friends she wants to bring to this party. I don’t know how many nor how big, but this is about to get messy,” Feyette said.

  “Sounds like fun.” Aria stood from her chair. “Anything else we need to know?”

  “If you want to stop her, you’d better plan on moving out soon. She plans on attacking first thing in the morning,” he advised.

  Aria set the watch's timer on her DNAIS. “Never a dull moment.”

  “I will have all of my men regroup at Bio-Tech. I will be announcing to the world in a moment the death of Walten and our agreed upon alliance.” Feyette then looked over to Kovacevic. “Do I have your alliance as well?”

  “Aw, shit…seeing as you killed a good number of my men today…” the general of Saray puffed on his cigar, “why the hell not?” He shrugged. “As long as you agree to keep the alliance permanent between us. I’m gettin’ too old for this shit.”

  “Then it is agreed. From this day forward, Bio-Tech Military Corporation vows to cease all militaristic attacks against all other city-states and has joined an alliance with Saray. Do I have a concurrence with this statement?” Feyette looked to Clarke.

  Clarke sat up in his bed. “I, President James Clarke of Bio-Tech Military Corporation, agree upon the alliance between Bio-Tech and Saray.”

  “And of those present in this room?” Feyette looked to Aria.

  “It is agreed,” she stated firmly.

  “It is agreed,” Troy followed. He eyed Aren.

  “Uh…it’s agreed,” the pilot quietly replied.

  “It is agreed,” sounded Grayson from the corner of the room.

  Feyette looked toward Kovacevic. “And does Saray agree?”

  Kovacevic straightened his posture. “Seeing as, uh, Alijah Dizdarevic ain’t around, and I’m the head of Saray’s military, and it’s been my men you’ve been killing, then I’ll act like the man in charge. It is agreed.”

  “It is agreed,” Feyette echoed. “I will follow up with peace negotiations between the other states and will get back with you afterward. My men are to regroup in Fountains and depart for the Amazonian Desert at 0500 this following morning. We will await orders upon your arrival.” Feyette saluted.

  Aria gave him a quick salute in return, and the call terminated. She silently remained in her place as she stared out the large window of the hospital room. So many people had died today, and just like that, the tables had turned. Seeing Mr. Walten’s death on camera was a little unsettling and not simply because of how gruesome it was. It revealed that Sapphire wasn’t playing by any specific rules. Her plan was still her plan, and now that nothing was holding her back, Aria feared the worst for humanity.

  “Well…today has been an interesting day.” She heaved a tired sigh. The sound grated on Troy’s nerves.

  “Damn it, woman! I thought I told you to stop making that noise!” He ran his hand across his forehead.

  "Defending Saray"

  Chapter 11

  The sound of morning birds stirred Dovian from his slumber. Taking a deep inhale, the sweet scent of wet orchids and honeysuckle tickled his nostrils. The man sprawled across the mattress on his back; a warm blanket lay diagonally across his naked form. With his arm pinned, he turned to look down at Ivory, who was sound asleep. A tiny hand lay on his chest beside her squished cheek. Blonde curls coiled about her face and scattered across his torso. He couldn’t help but give a smile. His arm was wrapped around her, his hand resting on the small of her back. She looked peaceful in her sleep; he didn’t want to leave her side. Pulling the covers over her bare shoulders, he placed a gentle kiss atop her head.

  Ivory made a little groan, twisting and pulling the covers with her, unveiling Dovian. He gave a hushed laugh and pulled his arm away, stretching. He had no idea how long he had slept, but he felt very chipper and at ease for a change. Taking another deep breath, he sat up in bed, scratched his head, and gave a low yawn. The blonde beside him did not move. He watched her for a moment, wondering if she was capable of sleeping and if she even had dreams. As memories of the night passed him by, Dovian’s guilt returned. Had he pushed himself on the woman, or had she actually wanted him? He knew Ivory had feelings for him, but was she giving herself to him in an attempt to appease him in some way? Dovian gave a small scoff through his smile. Whether she was Ivory or I’Lanthe in her mind, it was certainly something he both needed and wanted. Ivory was as gorgeous as anyone could get, and her innocent behaviors were quite adorable. She would never have to ask twice to get Dovian into bed with her.

  He scowled as he felt a bit repulsed by the idea, but then shrugged it off. Who cared? He spent long enough without having the company of a woman. He deserved a night or two of fun after all he’d been through. Selfish or not, he wasn’t going to regret last night.

  His stomach gave a gurgle, reminding him of how famished he was. The idea of breakfast in bed sounded rather pleasant. And as he thought of surprising Ivory with pancakes and watching her eat them while covered in a bed sheet, he grinned. Oh, she would believe it would be lovely.

  Dovian slid off the bed and swept up his scarlet coat, pulling it around him like a bathrobe. Tiptoeing, he cautiously stepped around the sleeping Hector and Petey. As Dovian made his way toward the kitchen, soaking in the rays of sunlight that shimmered between the broken panes of stained-glass, he thought over the cupboard’s inventory. Did he still have that old bottle of maple syrup he found inside the vacation home? As he strode into the kitchen, Dovian’s simple, thoughtless smirk fell from his face. There was an intruder.

  “Who the hell are you?” Dovian asked.

  There was a woman sitting on the center island of the kitchen. She had a cup of tea in her hands, dipping a tiny bag up and down rep
eatedly. Her chocolate eyes flickered with amusement, her pink smile widening.

  “Well, good morning to you, too,” she said with a velvety voice.

  Dovian glared at the woman. Her hair flowed to her waist like a black waterfall, half the strands dropping over the front of one shoulder. Her skin was of a darker shade. Tall and with an hourglass figure, she was exotic in appearance. The clothing she wore was like a glaring neon sign that read, “open for business.” And her body posture only enhanced her sexual presence as she arched her back to stick out her full chest. The force of her bust pressed against the red and purple bustier pushed an ample amount of cleavage up toward her collarbone. She swung a long leg over the other; glossy leather with tall black heeled boots only completed the look of the whole costume.

  “I’m not asking again,” Dovian murmured.

  The woman narrowed her dark eyes at him. With a clink, she set down the porcelain cup before hopping off the countertop. Her heels clacked against the marble floor. Dovian eyed her warily as she swirled her dark hair with a manicured finger.

  “My name is Lilith,” she said, wetting her lips. She kept her mouth parted slightly as she walked toward Dovian.

  “How fitting,” Dovian grumbled, not amused. “I assume you are one of Sapphire’s pets.”

  “I’m one of her favorites,” she said. “I guess you could say we are like sisters.”

  Dovian took a step back. The presence of the woman made him exceedingly uncomfortable. All he wanted was pancakes. Why couldn’t he just make some damn pancakes and be left alone?

  The woman laid a hand on his shoulder. Casually, she slung her other hand around his neck. She smelled like flowers and death.

  “And if I’m Sapphire’s sister…” she pressed into him, her hips grinding against his, “then I guess that makes you my daddy.” Chocolate eyes full of lust peered over Dovian’s face.