Nothing left to fight for.
Soon he was back in the containment device, locked in place as he had been before. Almost as if nothing happened. Only the smell of fear in the air told otherwise. All in the room had just faced instant annihilation.
Order was gradually restored. Attendants made to remove Kitana’s body but the witch bade them leave it. That Horus might dwell on it longer. She too was badly shaken but regained her haughty demeanor more each passing second. She’d nearly died in that moment twice. Ashikagi watched it all, numb, his own surge of emotions leaving him drained.
Nothing had changed. All was as it had been.
The witch lived.
Why did Kitana not take her?! Why?! What an epic waste. To take her own life and let the witch live.
Oinana moved closer to Horus.
“How sad,” she sneered. “Had you been able to do that an instant sooner, perhaps she would still be with us. Perhaps you would be fighting your way to freedom even now. Not mourning the death of your wife.
“Too bad you found your strength too late.”
Ashikagi noticed a few of the clerics come to life at her words, Oinana’s heartless comments too much even for them—fearful her taunts might give the Kazerai the will to break free again. The witch was truly mad. Ashikagi saw their reactions, made note of each, that he might use their dissension later.
But Horus did not move. Nothing the witch said mattered. He was crushed. A certain sadness had come over his expression, the depths of which Ashikagi could only imagine.
CHAPTER 29: A MOMENT IN TIME
“We’re at minimum safe distance,” Willet yelled above the steady noise of the ornithopter. He confirmed various readings. They’d passed through heavy rain hours earlier, the fresh smell still lingered, and had been flying in clear air since. It was afternoon.
Jess glanced behind her at Darvon. He looked stable. No signs of airsickness. She too felt fine. Hard to believe they’d both been hammered on rice wine the night before. The additional combat stimulants Willet gave them before striking out were working. Like the effects from the other drugs, Jess felt revved up and ready to go. No pain, no queasiness. Even Darvon had a robust sort of glow. Though his face was still showing bruises from the fight.
She turned her attention back to the front, watching the gauges Willet explained earlier, looking ahead at the approaching terrain. The whumping drone of the wings for that many hours was starting to wear thin. It would’ve been nice to have her phone, to escape into her music. She’d forgotten it in the car during her chaotic escape from the airship, not thinking she’d even escape that ordeal at all. Now here she was, hurtling through the air in a giant metal dragonfly, on her way to the next impossible task. When would her luck run out?
Willet began to ease back the speed.
As inefficient as the flight mechanism of this heavy machine was, Jess could only imagine the power it took to keep it in the air, that long, racing along at such a fast clip. Any Earth machine would’ve had to refuel. Probably many times by now. But the fusion plant must last years, and the steam was condensed and reused in a closed system, so these things could probably go months with little maintenance. The idea of having something you could simply turn on and use, without having to gas up or charge batteries, was pretty amazing.
“I’m going to set down here,” Willet advised. So far they’d encountered no sign of civilization; no urban sprawl, no roads, no pockets of humanity—no nothing on the path they flew. The cities, at least in this part of the Dominion, truly were points of isolation.
Willet pulled back on the control surfaces. The pitch of the wings changed under his direction, the craft slowed and they banked sharply to the left. Jess thrilled with the rollercoaster vertigo, looking across Willet at the sandy hills below as his side of the ‘thopter tilted down, tucking into a spiral and heading for the ground.
Within moments they were planing out near the hills, long tail whipping around—visibility quickly obscured by the maelstrom of debris blown up by the heavy, thumping wings. Willet throttled back and a moment later they were settling to a landing. As he flipped off switches the wings beat down slowly, stopped at length and locked into place. Dust thinned and settled, flight systems popping and hissing as the turbine wound down to a final halt. The cacophony of flight was over.
They were landed.
“The Crucible is just over the horizon,” Willet checked a few last items on the control panel. He finished and looked up; at Jessica beside him, Darvon in the rear.
Darvon spoke, for what seemed like the first time in a long time. “They always described it as a holy place,” he reflected.
“Hardly,” Willet assured him. “Built for one thing only: to make the super soldiers you guys use to wreak fear and havoc on the rest of us.”
Jess still hated the way everyone seemed to think of the Kazerai, though she was starting to understand how they got that viewpoint. The other one, Kang, the one that fought Zac, definitely fit the descriptions. Based on him alone she could see why people despised them.
Willet rose and soon they were standing outside, looking far and wide across the rolling terrain—which looked a lot like the African Serengeti. Jess had never been to Africa but she’d seen pictures, and this looked just like it. A herd of large animals grazed in the distance, too far away to make out clearly, shadowed by a flocks of birds. She realized it was the first concentration of large animals she’d seen since being there, and she found herself wanting to get closer. To see what an alien beast looked like. Everything else there seemed so Earth-like. Was there an Anitran version of a zebra?
And again reality overwhelmed her. How could a world like this even exist? More, how could such exact versions of humans exist? Exact, perfect examples. No differences. They even spoke English, as a result of the Emperor’s influence so long ago. He came from Earth but how did the rest of them get there? These weren’t his offspring. Not even close. Anitra had been full of humans, with a long history, when he arrived.
Whatever the answer, the fact remained that this was an Earth-like world with English-speaking humans and you couldn’t ask for much more if you were going to be stranded. Maybe she could live there. Get used to it. Make a new life for herself.
But the thought of that only brought a fresh wave of determination.
Willet was on to the matters at hand.
“Okay,” he said. “We should be just outside their detection envelope. We flew in on a path that should’ve kept us off other lines. It looks like it worked. If they’d seen us we’d already be dealing with a welcome party.”
Jess wondered how they would actually do this, now that they were close. Would they really walk to the Crucible in the Skull Boy armor? How hard would it be to work the menacing suits? The armor looked technologically complex.
Furtively she glanced at Willet’s profile, as he gazed off into the distance.
Then, unexpectedly, he turned to her and grinned.
“Scared?”
It broke the spell. She gave him a look, held it a moment then shook her head with a forced chuckle.
“Are you kidding?” She looked at him like he was crazy if he thought otherwise. “I’m so puckered right now, if I tried to fart it would come out my nose.”
Willet laughed. Even Darvon.
“I’m ready, though,” she assured them. Darvon, in turn, was with her. For better or for worse. And she wondered if he would be the death of them. Would he become a hindrance?
“We’ll see if we can’t relax that pucker,” Willet was still smiling at her graphic statement. “In the meantime let’s get a little rest. It’s going to be a long night.”
* *
One of Oinana’s aides entered the upper floor of the control building with news.
“Maza has entered the chamber,” he reported.
Oinana smiled, reviewing the expressions in the room; as if daring any of them not to share her enthusiasm. Following the unexpected events of earlie
r she’d been working the clerics, rebuilding their confidence. It was hard not to have been touched by the death of Kitana, for even the most heartless, and only the witch seemed not to care. Ashikagi resolved to act, soon, to use the Council’s temporary perspective before she sucked them back into her wake.
“A new serum is ready,” the aide added.
“Very well.” And she smiled wider. “This has been but a small setback. Perhaps this was God’s way of disposing of the traitor. We must act faster, it would seem, in dealing with our enemies. Lest He intervene for our failings.” Kitana’s body had finally been removed, unceremoniously, and when she was gone Ashikagi could swear he saw tears in Horuses’ eyes.
“We will wait no longer where this one is concerned,” Oinana glanced at the great Horus, where he stood like a statue in the Raza field. “Soon this will be resolved and we will move forward, into a new age.
“When Maza emerges, the Dominion will be whole again.”
Ashikagi wasn’t sure exactly who she was talking to. Truly her mania had grown. This was good for his purposes, however, for it drove his confidence that he could more easily justify her removal. Already she’d violated too many sacred tenets, usurped too much power even for her position. She acted as Empress, when her proper role was humble servant to the Word.
“A funeral spectacle will be prepared,” she went on, addressing Horus now more than any other, though she continued to speak for all to hear. “The story of your heresy will be given to the people, so that they might know you killed your wife, blasphemed the Holy Relic and forced your own destruction at the hands of the Council.”
Outright fabrication, and Ashikagi watched as the clerics shifted uncomfortably at the witch’s lies. What she intended would implicate them as well; describe their hand in the death of Horus, hide their participation in the suicide of his wife.
While they followed along—so far—it was plain they wanted no part of what she proposed.
And so Ashikagi’s resolve grew.
Oinana turned back to the general assembly. “We will announce the ascension of Maza,” she said, and proceeded to describe her plans with flourish, effectively removing everyone else from her monologue. This was her vision, her future, her claim to the Dominion. To her they were mere servants, which acted as further catalyst for Ashikagi’s hatred.
Perhaps it fueled the private thoughts of the clerics as well.
Suddenly he was ashamed of his prior hesitation. Kitana was dead as a result. And the witch still lived.
Carefully he continued to scrutinize the people in the room, anticipating their reactions, estimating how to deal with them.
Piecing together his plot.
CHAPTER 30: ASHIKAGI’S MOVE
And so, by sundown, the moment was upon him. Ashikagi made sure to position himself near as the witch once more prepared the ceremony. He waited, tense, as she stood before Horus with her cordon of clerics, ready to administer the poison to the Kazerai whose minutes were now numbered. A new syringe filled with brilliant blue liquid was brought, the room grew expectant, Oinana took the needle with careful attention to ritual, a wickedly satisfied grin on her face, turned to Horus who stood, resigned, unable to muster the passion to free himself as he had before, brought it close in both hands, babbling words the others no longer listened to and …
Ashikagi rushed her. Parting the clerics, past them before they could react, before they knew anything was happening. It was the fastest he’d moved in a great long time. The witch was still grinning as he wrenched the needle around and … jammed it between her ribs. Death came so quickly, in fact, her grin remained as she fell.
Fitting, he thought in that brief instant, that she should die wearing the same sneer she wore so often in life.
Shock registered on the faces of the clerics around her only as their leader hit the floor. It was all too unexpected. Too sudden. After Kitana’s ordeal they were done with surprises. Now this.
But Ashikagi had no time to let things sink in. No time to allow them to act. Swallowing, he turned immediately to the next phase of his plan, more afraid of the consequences of this next action. He stepped close and … hit the field on the containment device, releasing Horus. Before anyone saw what he was doing, before anyone could move to stop him.
The clerics scrambled at this new threat, the murder of Oinana completely forgotten in that moment, robes swirling as they tripped over themselves in yet another terrified panic, putting useless distance between themselves and the lethal warrior.
But their attention was now squarely on the Kazerai.
Horus staggered from the device, as shocked as anyone, having been prepared to die only a moment before, but disorientation was fleeting. In an instant he was ready to act
Ashikagi’s heart raced. The hardest part was yet to come. He had to control the entire room, quickly, or all would be lost.
“HOLD!” he bellowed at the priest warriors, who were raising their staffs—turning his back on Horus to do so. This made his skin crawl, in anticipation of a blow from the Kazerai that might come at any second, but he must first control the warriors that would act to contain the mighty Hand of God. To override their impulse and get them to stand down.
In that first split-instant they did as instructed. The moment stretched. Ashikagi still stood; alive. No sound of Horus, who was but a step behind. Once the Shogun was sure the priest warriors would adhere to his command, for now, he turned his attention around the room slowly.
“Hold!” he repeated, to the others. Clerics and attendants alike. Then, directly to Horus: “Hold. Please.”
Horus waited, tall and strong, able to do what he wanted in that moment but choosing, thankfully, to listen. He knew the priest warriors could lock him down. He could not yet fathom why the Shogun released him. In short, as Ashikagi had hoped, there were too many uncertainties facing all of them to act rashly.
Now was his only chance.
“The witch is dead,” he announced. Gave that a moment to sink in. The clerics huddled across the room.
“Horus,” he looked into his face. Adopted as much sadness as he could; tried to feel his Kazerai’s pain. Feel it, to such a degree, that Horus would believe his empathy. “I’ve failed you. My apology can never undo this tragedy.”
Horus just looked at him. Seething.
“I’ve suspected the witch for some time,” Ashikagi continued. “When I brought you in, I expected that you would remember. Who you were. That, given time, you would regain your senses.” He paused, knowing what needed to be explained next, hoping he might deliver it in such a way so as not to inflame already raw nerves: “I had hope for Kitana, too,” he said. “Though she was already branded a traitor. I suspect the enemy got to her, and that she in turn got to you. I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, but the witch pursued her agenda against her. And, ultimately, against you.” He looked into Horuses’ steady gaze, trying to gauge whether his words were having any effect. Either way, at least Horus was listening. He hadn’t started laying waste. For now that was everything Ashikagi had hoped for.
He checked to see that everyone else held position.
“I should’ve challenged her long ago,” he announced, for all to hear. “I blame myself for what’s happened. The witch lied, as Kitana said. Kitana was right.” He mustered sadness again; spoke to Horus from the heart. “Your wife was right.
“I saw it too late.”
Horus was still listening. Ashikagi turned to the rest of them.
“Oinana violated our Codes!” he raised his voice in anger. And his anger, unlike his sadness, was real. “She had no right to instigate this ceremony, and at her own choosing!” He challenged the clerics; rallied their devotion: “She consulted no one!” The actions of the witch were an affront, truly. They all knew it. “This was not her decision to make! This decision belonged to the Council! A decision of this magnitude required a full tribunal!” He eyed each of them. “She treated you like children. Mere decoration f
or ‘her’ Council. For ‘her’ events of State. Surely you all saw that.”
They had.
“She had to be stopped.” Ashikagi breathed a little easier. His suspicions were panning out. The clerics had also been looking for a way. Now he’d given it to them, albeit in alarming fashion—with a murder—but the goal had been achieved.
Without the witch, however, they were lost.
He needed to fix that quickly.
“Navid,” he called on the lead cleric, the titular Fajid, “Scribe of God”, the one who administered the Decrees. During Oinana’s reign he’d been her right-hand man. A servant, like the rest. “Come.”
Navid hesitated, then separated himself from the cowering group and came closer—not only to Ashikagi, but to the lethal Kazerai, who stood behind and to the side. Ashikagi allowed himself the luxury of an inward smile. Things were shaping up. Though Horus didn’t realize it, nor intend it, he stood now in his proper position in relation to his Shogun. Behind and to the right.
Ashikagi certainly intended it.
Before Navid could speak Ashikagi did. “This is not the first time she violated our laws,” he informed the lead cleric. “I can relate to you others. Though I’m sure you are already aware of each.” Tacit admission of guilt was in Navid’s stare. “She made to raise a new Kazerai, solely of her own choosing.” Ashikagi was furious with the things the witch had done. His rage was quite real. “She was about to destroy Horus!” He turned briefly; checked to see that Horus was getting all this. “Our most decorated Kazerai! Guardian of Osaka! Legion Commander of the Holy Center!” An outrage. The others, too, must surely feel their own, suppressed rage.
He was counting on it.
“She’d gone mad,” he added. “I did what needed to be done. My only regret is that I did not act sooner.” He glanced at Oinana on the floor, eyes open, smile still stretched wide in the rictus of death; then passed his gaze once more to Horus, to reassure him, to remind him of his feelings at the tragedy of Kitana, then back to Navid.
Star Angel: Awakening (Star Angel Book 1) Page 28