Nemesis: Box Set: Books 1 - 3

by David Beers

  Finally, though, she saw what she wanted.

  The humans couldn’t see her because they couldn’t see anything inside the haze’s perimeter, not even the white of the haze itself. To them, the place showed exactly what they expected to see; the haze creating a picture from the culmination of their thoughts and simply replaying it back to everyone. The picture was part of its defense mechanism, because no matter where any one of these newly found people moved, they would see the group’s image of the town, and the group saw it as they had been told it would look. Smoke rising in the distance, from the felled plane, but for the most part a quiet place.

  She knew some of the words to describe what lay before her. Tanks. Guns. Soldiers. All of them had no equivalent on Bynimian.

  Bynimian doesn’t exist anymore. Hasn’t existed for fifty million years, she thought.

  The words hadn’t existed, then, but they did now—because Morena saw and understood what all these different things really were: weapons. The government had arrived and brought…what was it her host had said? The cavalry? Morena smiled at the thought. This was a large cavalry and she felt happy they were here. A group this large, something this powerful, would make a good example for the government, for any other humans on this planet that might want to challenge her.

  Morena moved to the very edge of the haze.

  The tanks stood in rows, five across and ten deep. Fifty. She didn’t know exactly what those things produced, but from her host’s memory, she saw fire, explosions. Men stood in front of the tanks, five hundred, all of them wearing dark green, and holding any number of things that Morena thought were meant to bring damage. She laughed at the thought. The whole of them was meant to bring damage.

  She nodded, thirty feet above the highest tank, as she looked out on the mass sent to destroy her. “Let us start.”

  Morena moved out from the haze’s guard, her platform gliding easily into the air where everyone could see her.

  She watched their faces, the ones standing in front of the tanks, as their minds took in what appeared before them. Disbelief dawned first, with slack jaws and wide eyes. Morena knew what she looked like, could see herself as she imagined they saw her. A being surrounded in a whipping fury of ephemeral color, with a core that they could see, but barely grasp. Arms and legs like theirs, but eyes that shone with an even more ferocious green than the waves reaching out around her.

  Fear came next. Because she wasn’t human. She wasn’t anything they had ever seen, or ever imagined seeing, and they came here to kill her? Something that shouldn’t exist?

  Morena didn’t smile, because in that moment she pitied them the same as she pitied the men who tried to escape the forest. She found no pleasure in this, even if there was pleasure in her children growing. Chilras had feared this.

  It’s too late, Morena. End them mercifully.

  She raised her right hand and her aura moved as well, firing out like flames swimming into the air. She watched the men follow it up into the air, losing sight of her body briefly.

  Morena opened her left hand and stole the breath from everyone looking at her aura. Their lungs collapsed as air shot out of their bodies. Men fell to their knees, gripping their throats and chests, forgetting totally about the creature they had recently been so frightened of. Deep blue veins cropped up on their necks and foreheads as their bodies struggled to find the oxygen that fueled them.

  Morena held onto them even as she turned her attention to the tanks, which were now turning their attention to her as well. She felt the blasts coming a few seconds before they fired, her Knowledge kicking in.

  The shots exited the cannons as huge explosions, but what should have happened in an instant, moved like thick, dripping syrup for Morena. She saw the fifty great pieces of metal as if they floated to her instead of flying at speeds nearing the sound barrier. The aura from her right hand, still high in the air, moved then, swarming out at ten times the speed of the missiles, twisting through their metal. And then they were one with her, the same as her aura.

  She wasted no time in slowing them and then returning each one to its previous owner.

  Fire erupted on the streets below her. There were no screams though, because all of the men lacked the air necessary to make such noises.

  86

  A Long Time Ago, In Another Place

  The Council’s sessions were closed. Nothing that happened in this hall was ever broadcast to the public; indeed, the public didn’t know what the inside of this space even looked like. The gray walls made from rock, the way the planet’s heat never seemed to adequately filter into this room. No adornments hung in The Council’s hall, simply stairs carved from rock ascending on either side of the room as they led to the platform where The Council sat.

  Morena had never wondered what the public might think the hall looked like. Did they think it was decorated with fabulous art or perhaps historical artifacts of Bynimian? The place was bare and stark, which Morena appreciated. The business here was bare and stark; nothing more so than what they would hear today.

  The Council, for the first time in its history, decided to broadcast the proceedings. Every Bynum on the planet would see this playing directly into their minds. They would see their Var prosecuted. No one told Morena why, but they didn’t need to. She imagined Chilras wanted this to be without stain, that when they sentenced the first Var to death, there would be no one who said they hadn’t acted justly. The only way to do that was to make Morena’s humiliation public.

  Morena stood before The Council, her husband to her left, though separated by fifty feet. Auras different from their own, miniature prisons, wrapped around their hands, feet, and necks.

  Morena couldn’t even look over to Briten, though she knew she wouldn’t even if the option existed. She wanted to, of course, but with everyone across the planet watching, she would be nothing less than the ruler of this world.

  Morena did want to smile though. Guards covered the hall. They lined the stairs leading up to The Council’s platform, surrounded both her and Briten, and stood strategically on the floor. There were more guards here than Morena had brought with her when she captured The Council.

  That was humorous.

  She couldn’t laugh aloud though; she would need to keep it inside. A spectacle—that’s all this was, as if either her or Briten could escape from the auras holding them. Chilras may want it to look on the up and up, but this little show was created to give her a direct advantage.

  The Council walked out of their chambers, moving from behind the stone entryway and out onto their platform. Morena had seen no other Council members since her coup until now, only Chilras.

  She struggled to keep from gasping.

  All of them, all six, had aged at least as much as Chilras. Their auras fading so substantially that at least two of them appeared to be blackening.

  What have I done?

  Had it, their capture, really taken such a toll? Would they die soon after this? Had she sentenced them to death the same as they would her in just a few minutes? Now she wanted to look at her husband, wanted to see his reaction and understand if he felt the same.

  They did this, she said to herself, the part of her that moved on them in the first place. Your chains, their auras, all of it because of their ignorance and arrogance.

  She watched The Council sit, steeling herself against the auras they showed. They were here to kill and they wouldn’t show any mercy; she must remember that. They were here to kill Briten, and perhaps show even less mercy for him than for her.

  “Morena Var and Briten of Lornarus, you both are here to have your crimes read to you and then be sentenced based on such crimes.” Chilas stood as she spoke, her aura flowing outward, showing the strength she wanted the world to see. She couldn’t hide the fading color, but she certainly didn’t feel small in front of Morena right now.

  “Morena Var, you are accused of committing treason against all of Bynimian, and Briten of Lornarus, you are charged as a co
-conspirator.” Chilras stared down at Morena, not bothering to cast a single glance at Briten. Morena held her gaze, her face still and her aura spreading as far as it could given her constraints.

  “I could go on,” Chilras said, “and name other crimes, but the six of us have determined that there is no reason for such extraneous issues. No crime you have committed, or will be accused of committing, can compare to trying to destroy our customs, the customs you were born to protect.”

  Morena felt the anger rise in her, saw her aura flaring around her at the accusation. Those seeing from outside would see it, but she could do nothing to prevent it.

  “We have found you guilty, Morena, as well as your husband.” Still no look toward Briten. Chilras’ eyes burned with a fury that her aura would never match again. This was her vengeance, this whole show, and Morena her foe. “Do you have anything to say before sentencing?”

  Morena felt her aura wanting to reach out, to grapple the old creature and throw her to the ground, smothering her beneath Morena’s own power. She had to maintain control though, had to get a grasp on her own feelings, because this moment would be remembered forever. Her aura may never reach the Tower, not anymore, but Bynums would remember. They would tell the story of the one and only trial a Var ever received. It would filter down for generations, forever, or until Bynimian died.

  Think of mother. What would she have done?

  That thought struck Morena to the core. She remembered the first time she saw Briten and her mother’s calm even when she probably knew what would happen. That her daughter would marry this otherworldly creature, spoiling a bloodline that stretched back to The Makers. Helos had looked on in that banquet hall without her aura changing a bit.

  Morena could do the same now.

  She could be strong. The same strength that allowed her overthrow attempt, she need only focus it at a different place.

  “Alright then,” Chilras said, taking Morena’s thought and silence as having nothing to say. “We will—”

  “No,” Morena said. “I would like to speak.”

  Chilras nodded slowly. “Go on then.”

  “It is imperative, crucially so, that everyone hearing my words now look into the research that my husband did. Whether or not you agree with my actions, when you look into his work, you will see why I felt I had no choice. This world is dying and there is no way to save it. The only option for our species' survival is colonization. If you do not act soon, it will be too late, and your children will never have children.”

  “Guards—”

  “I am not finished,” Morena said. She looked on, not speaking though, daring Chilras to continue, daring her to not yield the floor. After a few seconds, she continued. “This Council puts the entire planet at risk with their refusal to acknowledge the facts before them. You all are acting recklessly and endangering countless lives, those of our species that are not even yet born. You, especially, Chilras, do this because of some misplaced notion that someone other than a Bynum cannot have a thought worth thinking. When this planet dies, and with it all we have built or will ever build, the blame will rest on the six placing judgment on me now. There will be no one to judge you, then, though—because everyone and everything you know will be dead.”

  Silence ruled across the floor, across the entire chamber. No one moved, not so much as breathed loudly. Morena’s words rested in everyone’s minds, and though she didn’t know what they felt about those words, she knew she was heard.

  “Is there anything else, former Var?” Chilras said.

  “You cannot and will not take away my bloodline.”

  “You did that yourself. Now let us be done with this. The Council has found both of you guilty and sentence you to death through public execution, to be completed two days from now.”

  * * *

  Their cells were separated. Briten imagined it was to stop the possibility of collusion. Briten sat alone, seeing nothing but white surrounding him.

  He wondered, for a long time, what type of ruler he would have made on his home planet. His temperament was very different from that of his father, or any of the other rulers that presided over their dominions. He was different, but this much so? No. He held some of the rage that the rest of his planet seemed to breed with happiness. Focused rage. That’s what his species wanted.

  Here he was though, sitting in a cell, having just heard his death sentence, and only feeling the early stirrings of something that might grow into rage.

  His parents, his people, they would have killed this world if someone tried to imprison them. Simply crushed any living soul on this rock. He though, Briten, he sat cross-legged on the floor, only considering such things. Was it Morena that helped him learn this calm? Or was this simply what The Makers set out as his path?

  He smiled, thinking about Morena.

  She might have made a better ruler on his planet than on hers.

  He knew that if he contacted someone from his planet, he might be able to start a war, one that would free him and Morena. Bynimian could never hold up to the might that his father would bring to this place. It was too late for that though, because he couldn’t make contact. He would die here on this planet, and his parents wouldn’t know.

  These thoughts went through his mind as he sat alone on the floor, but the stirrings inside him grew as well.

  They came from his DNA rather than his conscious thought.

  The DNA built from a lineage of warriors, and even if through luck or learning he had managed to curb that DNA, it rose to the surface now. He told Morena that if the opportunity presented itself, then he would fight. She said she thought it would. He didn’t know if she still believed that, but Morena had never predicted something that didn’t come to be. Her Knowledge was weak, but when it came, it was right.

  He had agreed to die for her, and sitting in this cage, his inner workings decided that he was going to kill for her. His own death…perhaps that was where his calm came from. All creatures die and he knew that from a very, very young age—his whole species did, and had to when war came as natural to them as their auras. He accepted that he one day would die, but he didn’t think until today that he had accepted Morena would die too.

  The rage grew, like a hurricane over an ocean. Large clouds beginning to swirl inside him, picking up speed as more of his anger evaporated into the winds.

  They were going to kill her because of him.

  They would murder his wife, the person that he left a planet for, gave up his life to be with.

  The Council and all their inner machinations had considered so many options, so many variables, but Briten thought they forgot about him. He was only Morena’s toady. He was something that shouldn’t exist on this planet, but was harmless overall. His sense of calm throughout his time here left them feeling he was nothing to be reckoned with.

  In his cell, alone, Briten contemplated what it meant that his wife would be murdered, and in that contemplation, murder was finally born in his heart.

  * * *

  It went as Morena thought it would.

  Death sent down from a group dying themselves.

  The thought, that she would die very, very soon, felt strange. Bynums lived. They lived for a long time, and by any standard, she was just now reaching middle age. She had another half of her life to live, and yet a group decided that her time was over.

  She finally understood Chilras' fear of colonizing other planets. Before, she had only been concerned with Bynimian’s survival, but now she saw why Chilras didn’t want to kill. The Makers decided when life ended; it was planned that way, and for another being to decide they know more than The Makers bordered on blasphemy.

  Shut up with that nonsense, Morena.

  If that was the truth, then why did The Makers create free will? She thought such idiocy right now because she was just told she would die. Chilras was frightened because she was old and couldn’t see around the corner, though someone was standing on the other side screaming at her what t
o expect. The Makers created this place, but they didn’t dictate what happened in it.

  And if they did, if this illusion of free will was nothing more than that, then Chilras never had a choice in killing Morena. Her Knowledge grew in strength, telling her that whatever she needed to be looking for was rapidly approaching. She would die here, but only if she messed up. She would never get to the point of having her aura smothered if she paid attention and acted.

  She wanted Briten next to her. Whatever happened over the next two days, they were going to meet their fate together, whether that be death or life. When the chance showed itself, she would only take it if Briten could take it too.

  The world saw Briten as a slow moving river, or perhaps a still lake. She knew differently, though, because she saw inside his aura. She knew that if pushed, the power bred inside him would erupt on this world as lethal as any exploding core. Morena needed to get to him, somehow. She had to get out of this cage and find her husband, and then they would face their fate together.

  Calm down; it’s coming.

  Her thoughts were running away from her, would continue to if she allowed them. She had been sentenced to death and perhaps such a decree caused one to lose focus.

  The decree didn’t matter, though. That’s what she was coming to realize. The moment of opportunity was approaching, and Morena smiled as she thought about it, because all of Chilras’ well laid plans would lay scattered like sand during a storm. Morena might not be able to save her people, but with each passing second, she felt she could save herself and her husband.

  87

  Present Day

  The path out of the dark, for Bryan, took a few hours in reality, but in his head, the path stretched on nearly forever.

  He walked it, because in darkness such as he found himself, there was no other way to travel. He didn’t know where he was going, only that he had to move forward, because to turn back meant death—if not of the physical kind, then certainly of the mental variety. He carried all the pieces of him, that shattered glass, in a bag over his shoulder, and he trudged a road that he couldn’t see, hoping it led to light. That’s what he was searching for, some kind of light. Something to illuminate the place his mind had become.