by David Beers
The walk to his father's house had been long. That's all he really knew. One foot after another with Julie walking right beside him, and both of them dropping to the ground any time a car drove by on the road. His calves trembled now and he had never wanted anything as bad as he wanted sleep, but he couldn't think about that. He couldn't dwell on sleep because he couldn't have it.
The trailer was dark, not a single light on in the entire thing, at least none that Michael could see. He and Julie stood across the street, their bodies close to one of his neighbor's trailers, peering around the side but not daring to venture out into the open. Michael didn't see anything obvious, but even the thought that someone might see him was too much to consider.
He didn't know what to do, though. It didn't look like his father was there, even his truck was gone. So they could hide here behind this trailer, but not forever. The sun would come up, and people would come out. He and Julie would be seen.
For the first time since this all started, Michael felt a crushing hopelessness. Somehow, up until this point, he had kept a kernel of hope inside his mind, a hope that they would get out of this. That Thera and Bryan would get out of this. That whatever was happening would end, and they could find their way back—all of them—and if not to normalcy, then something close. Looking at his trailer from across the street, the moonlight casting its white glow across the cracked asphalt, he understood that there would never be normalcy again. Not for him or Julie, and probably not for anyone in this town.
This was as normal as life would get, and Michael thought that the people inside the trailer he now hid behind would soon be brought into his new world. That the people who stole him would come for them as well.
He didn't even know if Wren was alive. He heard them say it, but that was hours ago, and in all that passing time, they could have easily killed him.
"Do you see anything?" Julie whispered from his side. She wasn't trying to peer around, just standing with her back to the white metal of the trailer.
"No." Just an empty house.
"What are we going to do?"
"I don't think we should go in there," he said. "Not without knowing if someone is waiting for us."
The headlights made Michael jump as they filled up the dark road in front of the trailer. He didn't know the time, but this was the first car he'd seen in his neighborhood. It moved slow, so that all he could see were the headlights as they grew larger and larger. Michael didn't think anyone could see him from the road, especially not in a car, but even so his breathing stopped.
He saw the hood of the vehicle as it rolled into his line of sight, slowly growing larger with each turn of its wheels.
And then, as if he'd been staring at one of those trick pictures—the ones with dual images, he saw what was in front of him.
His father's truck.
Joy burst into his brain like a cop using a no-knock warrant.
He looked behind to Julie, but she wasn't with him, didn’t seem interested in the slightest about whatever vehicle was rolling down the street.
"Stay here," he said, completely not caring if this was some kind of trick, unable to hold back from rushing to the road. He stepped out from behind the trailer and started a silent jog across the small yard, his hands waving above him, trying to get the vehicle to see him. He didn't want to shout, but he would if he had to. He would do whatever it took to get that familiar truck to halt.
The truck stopped and the door opened.
Michael couldn't see who was inside, couldn't see who stepped out, only that someone was coming for him. Michael stopped then, fear and caution finally grabbing hold of him.
The person ran through the shadows, not saying a word; the truck had stopped in the middle of the road with the door wide open. Michael wanted to run, wanted to turn and flee for his life, but he only stood there, stuck in the moonlight the same as the vehicle.
And then his father was hugging him, wrapping his arms around Michael, saying words that Michael couldn't understand and didn't try to. The only thing Michael knew for sure was that he wasn't crying, yet his face was wet from touching his father's tears.
59
Present Day
Morena's first host, the male named Bryan, was back in the pit Morena had found earlier. Morena was there with him too, but not nearly as much as she had been the past few days. A piece of Morena was with him and the female, or rather, her presence still filled their mind and body, but little else.
Morena had to concentrate elsewhere, and that concentration was growing almost exponentially.
She saw from twenty different viewpoints at once, all spread out across the woods, all having different capabilities and mental aptitudes. All of them struggling to regain control of their body, of their mind. The first five she had managed with ease, moving them just as she moved Thera and Bryan, having them walk to the next person in line, having them spread her along. As the numbers grew, though, so did the difficulty.
She commanded each body differently, each person on a different mini-mission, and Morena had to see them all at once, had to direct them.
She didn't know exactly how many men were in this forest because she hadn't been at a vantage point to see each one walk in, but she knew that people were beginning to notice the chaos. The first few had been easy to take, staring straight ahead until the last moment, when she fell on them with hands outstretched. Now though, the men were alert, they were looking around; they knew they were being hunted even if a single shot hadn't been fired.
She stood twenty feet from a man crouched against a tree, his gun raised to his shoulder, peering down a scope. Morena didn't know what she looked like, but she knew that the man in front of her would trust this body more than Bryan; he would recognize this body to a degree.
Morena stepped from behind the tree that hid her and walked across the woods, doing her best to keep her feet quiet, and trying not to look like something was wrong. The man turned to see her, but not just with his face. He moved his weapon too, and Morena saw the black barrel stare at her for a split second.
She tried to say something, to calm him, but her host's mind exploded in tiny black fragments, obliterating her vision and causing a momentary, monumental pain to erupt in her own consciousness. She screamed, briefly, and then it was over, leaving her with the rest of the bodies she possessed. That body, though, the one she was going to spread herself with, was gone—passed from her control.
Dead, the word rose to the top of her mind like an air bubble escaping an ocean floor. She couldn't use the body anymore, couldn't reach any part of it, not even its mental state. It had passed from her control and passed from this world at the same time.
The man shot her, as Thera and Bryan said he would. The man had killed the host that he should have recognized.
Morena hadn't heard the sound of the bullet firing, it all happened too quickly, but now she heard explosions in the woods. Tiny cracks ripping out across the expanse.
"What is it?" she said, her voice only directed at her two original hosts.
"Those are bullets," Thera said. "They're all shooting now."
"You have to leave, Morena," Bryan said. "Now, before it's too late."
Morena ignored the boy, concentrating on they're all shooting now. And so they were. At what, maybe they didn't know, but the sound of guns echoed throughout the forest. The men were scared, all of them, not just the one's Morena possessed. Scared and shooting at nothing, shooting at everything, because something was wrong in these woods and they didn't know what. They could only feel it.
Good, she thought. Let them fire. Let them shoot each other until the ground was stained red. Her job wasn't to keep these people alive, but to kill them all, and if they wanted to assist in the process, then fine. Still, she needed to be careful. She saw how easily the 'bullet' evaporated the consciousness of the man she inhabited. She didn't have time to fuck this up, didn't have time to lose too many more men, because she wouldn't be able to find more. She
needed the ones she currently possessed to survive, at least for a bit longer, until she could move closer to the middle, closer to her ship.
Morena slowly dropped each person she controlled outside of the pit to their stomachs. She still needed them alive, still needed to spread through these frightened animals, at least until they all killed each other off.
She started them crawling across the pine-straw carpeted ground, focusing with each pair of eyes on the next target, on bringing down everyone around her.
60
A Long Time Ago, in Another Place
"And the Assistants?" Morena said.
"No word yet, Var."
Morena looked at her Head of Guard. The man held no fear, like a stone. She had never needed him before, his position closer to decoration than function. And now she found herself depending on him more than anyone in her life. She needed him to find the Assistants, every one of them. Morena's ambition was a gift, but it brought a curse, too: the impulse to rush into things quickly. She should have found the Assistants first, should have brought them in before going to The Council.
It was too late to dwell on those things now, though.
She stood in The Council's chambers, standing directly behind the chair she had sat in when Briten gave his recommendations. Everyone underneath her command was searching, looking the planet over, to find The Council's Assistants. A group of six that heard what Morena did and went into hiding. A group of six sworn to protect The Council, just as Morena's Head of Guard was sworn to protect her. None of them thought something requiring their protection would ever occur, not really. They couldn't have, but the time had come, and now sides were being drawn.
Or at least Morena believed they were. She couldn't know for sure, because she couldn't find the Assistants. That in itself, though, was enough to say that the Assistants weren't with her. If they were, they could have come to her, could have asked for sanctuary, and she would have given it.
She looked to Briten, who stood with his back to the guard, looking up to the ceiling.
"How are you going to find them?" Briten asked the guard.
"We're searching the entire capital."
"There's more than the capital on Bynimian," Briten said.
His comments relayed his worry as much as his thoughts. He didn't speak like this, ever—but the missing Assistants frightened him. Morena didn't need him to say it, but knew it was the first time she had ever been in danger.
"I want you to put the message out that if they come to me, I will take them as my own, and they will have the privilege of serving the next Council. Any one of them that comes forward will not be harmed, nor punished in any way," Morena said, turning her head from her husband.
"Yes, Var." The Guard kept his stance, looking up at her from the floor below. Morena wondered if this would be his proudest moment? He had been born to serve her, to protect her, and now she had finally given him his chance. He would stand down there, hold his weapon just as he did now, all night if she asked him to. He would never mention his exhaustion. He would never glance to the left or right. He would focus only on her and what she needed.
She looked at Briten again. "It's time for volunteers."
"Before we've dealt with The Council?" he asked. "Shouldn't we focus here, on them and their underlings at this point? It's not going to matter how many volunteers we gather if we lose."
He still didn't look at her.
"We began this not to consolidate power, but to ensure my bloodline continues. I won't slow down that process."
"Don't let your nobility cloud your judgement, Morena."
He thought this was foolish, her going forward without the Assistants accounted for. Her going forward with The Council still alive.
"How are you going to gather volunteers?"
"The same way that you convinced me this is the only possible way. I'll tell them the truth, and they'll see things as I do."
"In the open, after what just occurred?"
"Should I hide in here? If I do, how would you suggest I make the needed preparations?"
Briten sighed, turning around to look at Morena. "I'm not saying to hide in here, at least not forever, but there's nothing wrong with a bit of caution right now. You don't know where the Assistants are, nor what they're planning. A day, even a week, isn't going to stop us from doing what we need to."
Waiting wasn't in the cards. Not for Morena. Even so, some part of her tugged at her reasoning, trying to say that maybe Briten was right, that maybe caution wouldn't be the worst thing to occur. At least a part of her knew this decision was wrong, a touch of the Knowledge coming in again, speaking to her.
Morena's decision was made, however. She would not wait. She would not be held captive by anyone on this planet.
She turned from her husband to the Head of Guard. "Make it known I will speak tonight. That is all."
"Yes, Var," he said, turning and leaving them alone in the chamber.
* * *
The sea of auras weren't calm before Morena. They weren't raging like some wind-savaged ocean, but they were agitated, confused, nervous. They didn't hold the calm sway of Briten's, nor of her own. Morena couldn't see many individuals in the thousands before her, but their auras fed off each other, giving her an overall sense of the crowd.
She stood without her Guard. She decided to present herself to her people alone, without anyone to protect her, without anything separating them from her. She stood on a large rock stage, built in ancient times for addresses that needed to be given to the masses. Back then only those in front of her would hear her voice, but now, what she said would be transferred across the world instantaneously, directly into the minds of all Bynums.
The stage and the space in front of her—the space filled with the swirling auras—was surrounded by massive buildings, those that her ancestors had built. Those that housed her children standing before her. The same buildings that would be erased as if they had never been built if she didn't act. She looked up at them, seeing their walls shimmer underneath the massive lights surrounding the planet. The buildings were empty, if just for this one hour, but they would fill up shortly after. They would fill up with auras and buzz from what she said next.
She stood maybe ten feet back from the edge, not ready to speak just yet. She knew her message, knew it well, but she didn't want to say it. She didn't want to tell her people what she had done, not because she feared that she was wrong, but because she feared her words wouldn't adequately explain her reasons.
Briten was behind her, back in their sanctuary, in their room most likely, ready to listen just like everyone else.
She was alone.
Morena stepped forward without any notes to look at. The auras beneath her slowed as the talking died down. A beautiful mix of colors, stretching from fuchsia to bright green, and every other color imaginable. Morena peered past them though, wanting to see the beings beneath the auras.
"I am Morena, your Var." She paused, taking a breath. "The news I bring you today will not be easy to understand, but it is the truth, and if we don't face it courageously and with openness, we risk everything. Our planet is dying, the core inside that gives us life is slowly cooling."
She let her words settle amongst the crowd.
"If we do nothing, our world dies and we die with it. Not just us, though. Our children and those yet to be born. Our way of life, our very soul, will die with this planet."
Morena closed her eyes, taking in the atmosphere around her, feeling the little bit of Knowledge she possessed tell her what those below thought and felt. Confusion. Fear. Yet underneath all of that was a trust in her, in Morena, and even more so in her as Var. That the news she delivered would be awful, but somehow she could protect them, even from a dying planet.
Makers, give me the strength, she thought. Give me the strength to do what is necessary, what will deliver them all from sure extinction.
The Makers didn't answer her. They never had. Strangely, she thought about
her mother as the moment of silence stretched on. No one below speaking, all waiting on her, and yet Morena's mind went to the Var before her. Had The Makers answered her? Had they come when she called, or was she left on her own like Morena?
It didn't matter; Morena could neither ask The Makers nor her mother at this point. She was here and the people below all that mattered.
Morena opened her eyes and began speaking again.
* * *
Veral watched the Var speaking, not caring in the slightest about the words she said. He was watching for something out of the ordinary, for something that might go against his plan. It had been easier than he thought, and that scared him. She stood alone in front of a deep crowd, speaking as though she was a Maker and not a Var, as though she was infallible and her decisions unbreakable law. That's why this had been so easy, because she forgot her place. Because regardless of whether she was right or wrong, she took as given rights that she did not possess. That no Bynum possessed.
And so today this Var would fall. The first Var to fall, and hopefully the last. Hopefully what they did here today would leave a mark on Bynimian forever, as a caution against anyone who thought they stood above the laws, the traditions. Veral did this for Chilras, but he also did it for the rest of his planet.
Today would be the end of Morena and her husband. Veral couldn't deny that he felt a certain satisfaction at how this was going to unfold. Chilras deserved better than what befell her. She deserved better than the disgrace Morena gave; the entire Council did. He didn't want to feel that satisfaction, because he wanted to be doing this solely for the good of others. Yet he couldn't deny that he would enjoy what came next.
Veral brought a finger to his temple, and as he touched it, he said, "Go."