Tempus Regit

by Edmund Hughes

  “So you admit it then!”

  “I admit nothing!” He couldn’t stop from blushing a bit as he reached out and took the bottle from her, his fingers brushing against Vivian’s and lingering for a moment.

  There wasn’t much for them to do after they’d finished eating, other than to set up their simple bedrolls and continue drinking. Vivian was still on task enough to warn him about drinking too much, but it seemed as though she wasn’t minding the advice herself. Behind them, their two armor skins stood like two stoic and unmoving statues.

  “What did you mean before?” asked Archer. “The thing you said about the way I eat?”

  They were both lying down now, side by side, close enough to feel each other’s warmth without being in direct contact. Vivian rolled onto her side to look at him.

  “Why?” she asked. “It didn’t get under your skin, did it?”

  Archer shrugged.

  “Maybe it did,” he said. “A little.”

  There’s something else though. It was like she wanted to say more, but held back.

  “You just…” Vivian sighed. “I didn’t want to bring this up. It’s about you and Trevor.”

  Archer scowled.

  “Please, I know,” he said. “I’ve heard it all about how I look like him, or think like him, or whatever. I’m not his fucking replacement.”

  The alcohol was having its effect on him, and Archer only barely managed to stop himself from launching into a rant about how sick he was of the comparisons.

  “That’s not what I was going to say,” said Vivian. “It’s the opposite of it, actually.”

  “…What?”

  Vivian met his gaze, her expression soft, and full of conflicting emotions.

  “Trevor had all of the layers,” she said. “I loved him, but I never was really sure if he… loved me back? Or how he felt about anything. It was just layer after layer. He could lie like nobody I’ve ever met before, wear any emotion he wanted to as a mask…”

  “And what you said before…?”

  Vivian let out a small, sad laugh.

  “You aren’t like him, Archer,” she said. “When I look at you… I see you. Who you are on the inside. I don’t see Trevor.”

  Archer suddenly found himself unable to look away from her. Even in the dim light of the rambler, he could see her green eyes, and the way that she watched him. He saw what she was talking about, and he also saw her soft lips, and the faint freckles of her cheeks.

  He inched a little closer to Vivian. She didn’t slide back, even as he came closer still, his lips approaching hers.

  “Archer…” she whispered.

  He kissed her without really knowing why he wanted and needed to. Vivian kissed back. Archer had an instant to recognize and dismiss all of the reasons why it was a terrible idea, and then they were moving.

  There was a dream like quality to it, brought about both by the liquor and the setting inside the rambler. Archer pulled Vivian’s blouse up and over her head, and she pawed at his crotch, feeling his cock hardening under her touch. He kissed her again, and she pulled his shirt off, her hands shifting to run across the muscles of his chest and stomach.

  It felt dirtier than it should have. Archer hadn’t known Vivian before joining the Metal Squad, never known her as a sister in law, but he had told her that it was what she’d be to him. And now his tongue was inside her mouth, and her hand was unzipping his jeans.

  Archer slipped out of them and ran his fingers along the inside of Vivian’s waist band. She wiggled out of her jeans and then his hand was down her panties, and hers inside his boxers, both of them taking uneven, fast breaths.

  There was excitement in the lead up to all sex, but this went above and beyond anything Archer had felt before. It was a bad idea for a dozen different reasons, and he knew they would both regret it to some degree or another. But the close confines of the back of the rambler, along with the alcohol, the cold air outside the thin metal walls, and their young, athletic bodies, all of it seemed to have contrived the situation in such a way to make them unable to resist.

  He kissed her again, and then his cock was out, and her panties were down. Archer slid his hard tool between her thighs, finding her wet, willing, and ready. She let out a tiny gasp as he slid the first inch or so into her tight hole, and then shivered.

  “This…” she whispered. “Oh my god…”

  “Vivian…” Archer forced himself to stop, even as his entire body throbbed with desperate, needy lust. “Are you… okay?”

  She looked away from him, and then answered by pushing her hips upward and gripping his buttocks, pulling him into her. Archer was more than happy to oblige her, and started thrusting as he kissed her neck and caressed her soft breasts.

  There was a certain element of revenge to it. Archer would have been lying to himself if he’d pretended otherwise. Trevor had always been the older brother, taking whatever he wanted, getting away with whatever he decided to do. And now here was his former fiancée, alone, eager, and willing.

  I’m a bad brother. But so was he…

  Vivian moaned, and Archer locked lips with her in a passionate, sensual kiss. He pumped into her a little faster, resisting the urge to be rough and take out his leftover feelings for Trevor on her. She had her own demons in the mix, her own hang-ups and struggle to work through in the morning.

  The acoustics of the back of the rambler made every sound reverberate from wall to wall in lewd, rhythmic glory. It was the only time that sex between the two of them could have happened, with Leigh in Archer’s apartment back in Tempus, and Vivian with her guard up. They were out of the city, and in a way, out of their normal lives. They could do it, such a dirty, wrong, pleasurable, wonderful thing.

  He was pumping into her faster, and faster. It felt a bit like the first fight they’d had in the way their bodies moved together, knowing each other’s muscles and speed, strengths and weaknesses. Vivian was vulnerable to sexual pleasure, just like all the women Archer had been with. And he was vulnerable to her seduction.

  Is that what this is? Did she seduce me?

  Vivian’s hips were bucking, and she was moaning. Archer was fucking her hard, but he listened, and heard something else along with the moans.

  “Vivian…” He stopped, though it took all of his willpower. “Are you… crying?”

  She pushed herself up on one elbow and quickly wiped her eyes. Archer wasn’t sure what to do, and before he could think about it, she’d flipped him underneath her, mounting him and assuming the dominant position. It was clearly what she needed in the moment, so he let her have it.

  Vivian rode him as though each movement actually took her forward. Like she was riding his cock into the distance, to escape something chasing her at break neck speed. Archer ran his hands up her fit body, groping at her breasts. He gripped her buttocks as though they were handholds, and used his own muscles to grind her down against him even more forcefully.

  “Oh god!” She leaned forward, pressing her body into his and kissing him.

  “Vivian!” Archer bounced her lower half as he thrust upward with the last of the energy in his hips. The two of them came in perfect unison. The pleasure of it was a double edged sword, sweet and overwhelming, but lined with betrayal, and the beginning thread of deep regret.

  CHAPTER 36

  The two of them were separate on their bedrolls, giving each other space and room to think. Archer had pulled his boxers and shirt back on, and felt a little cold. Vivian was fully dressed and staring up at the ceiling.

  “We shouldn’t have done that,” she whispered.

  Archer sighed.

  “I know,” he said. “It was stupid.”

  He still felt drunk, and it was probably the only thing keeping the situation from being as awkward as it deserved to be. He pulled his simple sleeping bag up over him, using it unzipped as a blanket, rather than as intended.

  “Archer,” said Vivian. “What really happened between you and Trevor?”
>
  He tensed up at her question, as though she’d poked a raw bruise that he’d forgotten about.

  Why would she ask that question now, of all times?

  He took a deep breath, and resolved to give her as much of an answer as he could.

  “The so called assassination attempt,” he said. “That’s what you’re asking about, right?”

  He saw her nod out of the corner of his eye.

  “I was twelve,” he said. “It was when my mom first started to get sick, and when Trevor first left for the citizen’s district, for his training to join the Metal Squad. Mom was in the hospital… This was before they’d put her on sedatives, so she was just confused, and scared all of the time.”

  “I’m sorry,” whispered Vivian.

  “Don’t be,” he said. “It was a long time ago. Anyway, it was me and my dad. And then… it was so sudden. I was out helping at my part time job at the recycling center, sorting trash. I came home, and there was a Watcher there waiting for me. He told me… well, you probably already know this part. They found my dad with a bullet hole in his chest. Dead.”

  Vivian reached her hand out and touched his shoulder. She left it there, though Archer could tell that it was stirring up the same feelings in her that had led to them making the mistake they’d made earlier.

  “I was numb, for days, weeks after that,” said Archer. “It’s hard to explain, really, what it was like. I was so sure that Trevor… was going to come back. That he was going to save me, me and my mom. Make everything alright. He was 16, old enough that he could have made a difference, given me someone to trust.”

  “He didn’t… tell me any of this,” whispered Vivian. “He just never talked about it.”

  “Of course not,” said Archer, smiling grimly. “So after a couple of days, the funeral came and went. Trevor didn’t show. And then they had me meet with one of the local administrators to work out my dad’s inheritance.”

  Archer took a deep breath. Vivian waited for him to continue.

  “He was there for that,” he said. “He… insisted that all of it, the money, the rusty shack. Everything, go to him. I didn’t understand why. I still don’t. He was so insistent and cold about it. I’d already lost everyone I loved, and there he was, come back to betray me and steal what was left of my pathetic life.”

  “Archer…” whispered Vivian.

  “I did try to kill him,” said Archer. “I attacked him as soon as we were outside, punching, kicking. I wanted him dead. He threw me into a pile of trash cans, and do you know what he said?”

  Archer sat up, nodding, blinking a little too quickly.

  “He told me that I wasn’t his little brother anymore,” he said. “That we were just strangers to each other, from now on.”

  Archer sighed and closed his eyes, feeling a great weight release from his shoulders. He’d only told the story in bits and pieces before, mostly to Sabrina when drunk. It wasn’t something that he’d ever explained to someone who’d known both him and his brother. He waited, wondering how Vivian would react.

  A loud crash, almost like an explosion, broke through the silence outside the rambler. Archer bolted to his feet. Vivian was right there, next to him, but he held a finger up to his lips.

  “I’ll take a look,” he said. “You stay here.”

  “We both go,” hissed Vivian.

  “No.” Archer shook his head. “It could be a trap designed to separate us from our vehicle. And besides, you’re still injured. I’m in good shape.”

  Vivian didn’t say anything, but that was enough of an answer for him. He stripped off his clothes and pulled on his undersuit, not caring enough after what had happened between them to mind being naked in front of her.

  She pulled the zipper on the back of the suit up for him, and then Archer wordlessly climbed into his armor skin. The inside felt cold even through his undersuit, and the feeling didn’t go away once he powered it up.

  He pulled the rambler’s back door up, letting Vivian through so she could move to the driver’s seat of the vehicle in case a quick escape became necessary. Archer’s view screen flickered with battery and diagnostic information. He ignored it and focused on scanning the horizon, unsure of which direction the noise had originated.

  “I told you not to touch her.” Trevor appeared twenty or so feet in front of Archer, his voice unmistakable, but his body just a vague, shadowy shape against the darkness of the empty wasteland at night. Archer made sure his mic was off before walking toward him.

  “I don’t take orders from you, Trevor,” he said. “You’re dead. And you were a piss poor excuse for a brother, even when you were alive.”

  Why do I even pretend like he’s really here? This is a hallucination. This isn’t anything real.

  “I loved her,” said Trevor. “You have no idea what this feels like. Betrayal on this level. But maybe you will someday.”

  A chill ran up the back of Archer’s spine. Trevor took a step toward him. Archer tried to ignore him and focus on the potential threat, whatever the noise was that had drawn his attention initially.

  “You betrayed me long before any of this began, Trevor,” said Archer. “You were supposed to be my brother. Not an opportunistic bastard. Not someone who forgot about his family as soon as they became inconvenient.”

  “I never forgot about you, Archer,” said Trevor.

  A silence hung on the air between them. Archer felt suddenly on edge. He was ready for anything, an attack from the dark of night, or from his brother’s ghost standing in front of him. Nothing came. He did a slow circle, looking back toward the rambler to make sure Vivian was still okay.

  When he turned to face his brother again, he was gone. The feeling of it went deeper than Trevor just being out of sight. Trevor was gone, and Archer could feel now that there had been something there, not in his head, but in the armor skin. But whatever it was, he knew it now only by its absence. Archer could practically taste his emotions now, anger at everything Trevor had done, guilt over everything he’d done.

  “Archer,” said Vivian, over the speaker. “See anything?”

  Archer took a breath and focused on the night, listening as much as looking. He unmuted his mic.

  “No,” he said. “There’s nothing here.”

  CHAPTER 37

  The two of them slept through the rest of the night. Archer woke up quietly the next morning and shared a quick look with Vivian that told him all that he needed to know. Things were still normal between them. They would pretend like nothing had happened.

  They ate granola bars for breakfast, discussing the logistics of their path forward. Archer walked outside the rambler, shocked by how impressive the bridge and the waterfall still appeared. A short time later they set off.

  The bridge was only a stone’s throw away from them, but as they closed in on it, Archer saw the problem. It had been built after the first purge, but it was still ancient, probably close to two hundred years old. The metal was of the recycled variety, and though it has still standing, there were holes in places, and so much rust that it made more sense to talk of the few clear sections, rather than the mostly compromised core.

  “I’ll drive carefully,” said Vivian.

  “If we fall in, it won’t matter if we make it out of the rambler,” said Archer. “The radiation in the water will kill us within weeks from direct exposure.”

  “I’ll drive carefully,” she repeated.

  Vivian held true to her word. The bridge was wide enough for two vehicles to pass abreast, and that meant that they were able to maneuver around most of the holes, only having trouble with one or two. Archer realized, once they were halfway across, that the smart thing to do would have been to cross wearing the armor skins, and leave the rambler behind.

  Of course, then we’d be escorting the Senator back on foot.

  Once they’d made it to the other side of the river, their journey became as straightforward as it had been in the very beginning. Vivian used the rambler’s
compass and a simple map to orient them. They traveled northwest, scanning the wasteland ahead of them as they went.

  There was no need, as they soon realized. About an hour after crossing the bridge, something appeared on the horizon that was impossible for either of them to miss. A thick, dark tendril, pooling into a black cloud as it rose up into the sky.

  “That’s smoke,” muttered Archer. “Speed up.”

  Vivian glanced over at him. For a moment, he thought she was going to chew him out for suggesting it. Then, she hammered her foot down, and the rambler surged across the dusty ground, toward whatever bad omens awaited them in Syprus.

  Archer had never seen detailed photos of Syprus, and as such, he had nothing to compare the destruction and carnage that soon came into view. Syprus had been a haven much like Tempus, except built with its back against a mountain, a natural wall to save having to ring out a complete circle for safety.

  What stood before them now looked like the aftermath of a volcanic eruption, as though the mountain that had provided safety for the haven had suddenly had a change of heart. The wall was nonexistent in most places and charred black where it was still standing. No building higher than Archer was tall remained standing. Most of the visible fires had gone out, but everything seemed to give off smoke, and ash fluttered through the air like snow during the deep of winter.

  “This is… unbelievable,” whispered Vivian. “No. This can’t be happening.”

  “Don’t go directly into the city,” said Archer. “If there is anything still in there, it will only be begging it to attack us.”

  Vivian didn’t seem to hear him. She was already steering the rambler toward what Archer supposed had once been the haven’s main gate. It had been completely destroyed, but he could see the faint pattern of a street behind it. Black lumps were scattered across it.

  Corpses. Burned out people, caught trying to escape.

  “Vivian!” he snapped, pulling himself back to reality. “Don’t go into the city. Stop.”

  He reached over and grabbed one of her hands, pulling it from the steering wheel and finally snapping her out of her dark reverie. She looked over at him and shook her head back and forth quickly. Archer squeezed her hand.