Fractured

by T. C. Edge

  I take a breath and turn to find that Max has killed just as many as me. He looks around and shakes his head, staring down at one of the dead beasts, still twitching at his feet with a blade embedded deep in its eye.

  "These are not like the wolves we see outside Neorome," he says, kneeling down and pulling the blade back out. He wipes it on his armour and returns it to its sheath. "They're much bigger, and much more aggressive. Half their pack is surely dead, and for what? This isn't natural behaviour for such animals."

  "They're not natural," I say. "There are rumours that they were mutated in Cromwell's labs, and released to breed and flourish here in the wilds. It was all a great system of control. The toxic mist. The beasts. The Shadows of the Outerlands themselves. He surrounded the city with terror and danger, to stop people getting out, and others getting in."

  "Yet those mists have now dispersed," he says. "Have you tried to hunt the beasts, restore the natural order?"

  "We kill them when we come across them or are attacked," I say. "It's too big a job to make a concerted effort to wipe them out."

  "And other creatures are similarly...deformed?"

  "Bears," I nod. "Big cats. Anything with teeth that might want to hunt and kill you has been altered."

  "Then we can assume that they have spread from these lands too," Max says. "It is a dangerous road to corrupt the natural world like this. They will breed and take root elsewhere. It will upset the balance of things."

  "Yeah, just like us," I say. "We're a corruption too, Max. We're like these wolves. Evolved. Mutated."

  He looks at me and raises an eye.

  "Look at the world," I tell him. "Look at how it is now. New Haven. Neorome. Both cities once ruled by evil, corrupted people. Now the same is happening in Olympus. Why is it that those who come to power are always those who have been genetically enhanced? Is there something corrupted in our genes that makes us want to destroy and subjugate others?"

  "That isn't limited to the genetically enhanced, Kira," Max says. "It has always been human nature for the strong to rule the weak. That happened long before the world fell to its knees. And it continues to be the case to this day. Not all places are ruled by the enhanced. Not all evil is perpetrated by those with altered blood."

  "Like where?" I ask, peering at him interestedly. "You're saying there are places where the Unenhanced are in control?"

  Neoromans know the world better than anyone, I know. There are many places out there, I suspect, that harbour vast populations and corrupt regimes. The world I once thought was so closed off, so localised around Haven, as it was called then, is vastly more populous and complicated than I thought. Cities, nations, peoples, and empires may have had their ties largely severed after the fall of humankind hundreds of years ago, but some of those ties are being restored and re-sewn.

  Across the ocean, in particular, there is a great deal of cooperation between Neorome, and the many lands and peoples around them. And further afield, I have heard of other societies that have regrown and redeveloped over the years; some friendly to Neorome, others ambivalent, and others still who feel quite the opposite.

  Yet, societies ruled by the Unenhanced? That is a surprise to hear.

  "There is one, in particular, that comes to mind," Max says, his voice turning dark and distant. "An island off the northern coast of what was once the continent of Europe. An island once known as Britain before the fall. An island I...once called home."

  I frown as I stare at him. "You're not originally from Neorome?" I ask, so surprised. "But you have the look..."

  "Coincidence only," he says. "I started as a foreigner with our great city, as many others do. My home for many years was somewhere very different."

  "You came for the games?" I ask. "You were captured to fight as a gladiator?"

  He shakes his head. "No, that wasn't my journey," he says, his eyes reflecting a long and troubled past. "I escaped my home to find help, and over the years, I lost my way and never returned. The coastline is protected by a great wall," he whispers, frowning inwardly, his eyes turning down. "And behind it, it is those like us who are subjugated, Kira. We are the ones who run and hide and live our lives in secret. We are the ones who are oppressed."

  "But...how?" I ask, finding the whole idea so hard to believe. "What could normal people do against those like us? How could they contain a man like you?"

  "I...wasn't the same man back then," he says. "And there aren't as many of us there as elsewhere you've seen." His eyebrows pinch again, painful memories coming to mind. "They have weapons," he whispers. "Great weapons and armour. It is a nation built on technology. They make their own power, Kira. Their soldiers are technologically, not genetically, augmented. They were more than a match for us."

  He lets out a breath, and stiffens his frame. His eyes turn off into the trees, as though looking out across the lands and rivers, the mountains and oceans, towards the great walled island he once called home.

  "I will return one day," he says. "I will see her again..."

  "Her?" I ask, my voice a whisper.

  "My...daughter," he says. "I left her, and her mother, to find help. It is the greatest regret of my life that I was never able to return."

  I find myself stepping towards him, placing a hand to his arm. I wonder, now, whether his stern, austere disposition developed as a reaction to what he's been through. I had no idea of this past. I always assumed he was a soldier for life, a gladiator who entered the games in order to rise to prominence within the Imperial Guard. I know he fought. I know he won. Yet, perhaps it wasn't for glory that he did it. Perhaps it was to distract him from his grief, or curry favour enough to get support in his venture to return home, with a force of Neoromans at his back.

  I look at him now in a different light. The simple persona that he portrays, loyal and devoted to his city and Emperor, is merely the top layer of his facade. Beneath it, he's so much more. So much more than I realised.

  "Have you spoken with Dom about all this?" I ask him gently. "He might be able to help."

  "There is no one who can help right now," he tells me. "It's been so long, I don't even know if my daughter is still alive." He smiles softly, though with a shimmer of pain. "She'd be a teenager still, only eighteen. Just a child." He turns to look back at me. "Those who leave do not return," he tells me. "Getting out is improbable. Getting in is impossible. And Emperor Domitian isn't going to risk a war for my sake. And nor should he. This is my burden to bear, Kira. I have carried it for fifteen years, and will continue to do so until I die."

  He steps away at that, turning to look ahead through the dark, silent forest. Lifting his eyes, he guides Jude back down through the trees, holding him in suspended animation by his side. "Dawn will come soon," he says, looking off. "My duty is with Emperor Domitian. We must return as quickly as we can."

  I move up beside him, and nod. And with my mind occupied by a distant island empire, cut off from the world by a great coastal wall, and ruled by the Unenhanced, I speed back off through the trees.

  Towards the city that will, to me, always be home.

  15

  Kira

  Several hours later, weary and drawn out from two days on the road, we arrive back into the open plains that surround the city of New Haven.

  With the sun glimmering above us, only just beginning its morning ascent, we continue at a jog across the grasslands, working up and down the undulating hills as I spot the city off in the distance.

  To my side, Max now holds Jude upon his shoulder, his mental concentration all but spent. I feel guilty for the effort he's been forced to exert, while I merely jog along unencumbered. Yet my apologies only yield complaints. "You don't need to feel guilty, Lady Kira," Max informs me. "This is my duty, and I am happy to see it done."

  The last couple of hours have been quiet between us, old wounds in Max's ostensibly cold heart opened up. I can tell he's been dwelling on his daughter, on the world he left behind. And though questions have come to mind
, and I've been tempted to learn more, I haven't probed further. If I wish to know more of this mysterious island, then Dom is the person to ask. There is no need for me to further Max's suffering.

  As we approach the Olympian base, however, I turn my thoughts once more to our own protection. We start by giving it a wide berth, concerned me might run into a patrol and be too weary to offer a proper fight. Yet, as we draw closer, I think again of Brie, of Zander, of their dual, and mystical, presence in my mind. I sense no hint of them as I zero my focus. It sounds like they are...gone.

  I guide us a little closer to the camp. Turning towards the short valley heading northwards from where they forged their base, I see that the earth has been churned up and muddied. Wide tracks lead off and away up the plains, heading towards the now scorched woods that our people burned down during the ambush.

  I stop as I look at it, shaking my head.

  "They've gone," I say. "They must have gone, Max."

  "It's as we suspected," Max says to my side, looking on. "Perhaps they have returned home."

  I uproot once more, moving with more speed towards the hillside that overlooks their base. I sense movement, talking down below, my ears able to detect people still within the camp. Approaching the crest of the hill, I rise carefully, as the camp below comes into view, a little way down the slope.

  Only, there is no camp now. Just an outline of what was there before, a black scorch line where the energy shield was situated, occasionally marked with holes where the pylons were set. And within it, a muddied expanse littered with sparse remains, a few carriages left behind, some burned down and still lightly smouldering. I see charred bodies inside them, soldiers standing nearby. Soldier not of the enemy, but those in silver and red, others in dark grey and black. Men from Neorome and New Haven, sent out to assess what has been left behind.

  As Max and I rise up and turn our eyes down the slope, I see several guards react instinctively, moving into defensive position, their weapons pointed in our direction. I don't react. It may take a moment, but they'll notice quickly that we're friend, not foe.

  One, however, appears to break rank. I spot her rushing up towards us, a wild mess of golden hair flowing around her as she comes. She puffs and pants with great exertion, her eyes turning towards Jude, slumped over Max's shoulder, as she comes. I can sense the pounding of her heart, see the desperate intensity of her gleaming, golden eyes. I call out immediately to put her at ease, putting aside my questions of exactly why she's out here.

  "He's fine, Amber," I call down to her. "Don't worry, he's fine."

  She barely seems to hear me as she rushes straight for Max, who sensibly lowers Jude to the floor as she arrives. The Fire-Elemental drops right to her knees and reaches quickly for his pulse, her eyes frantically looking over his face and body, evidently checking for injuries.

  I let her confirm his current state for herself. It takes a moment before she appears satisfied, before her eyes thrust themselves right up to me. Then, before I can react, she launches herself at me like a missile, her arms flinging around my back as if I'm some beloved, long lost sister she hasn't seen in years.

  My response is the only one I feel comfortable with. I remain stiff, hoping for her to release me, and patting her lightly on her head to try to expedite that very thing. When her grip becomes more than I can take, I wriggle myself away and take a step back.

  "Thank you, thank you, thank you," Amber says, a glowing smile on her face. She rushes in again and tries to take another grip of me. I'm quick enough on the draw this time to escape her clutches, stepping away as she nears.

  "Just doing my job," I say, turning my eyes down to the camp. I see Secretary Burns down there with Ares and Commander Hendricks. Even...is that Perses?

  Amber's voice, however, draws my attention back away. "Er, where are the others?" she asks.

  I choose not to respond, still staring down the hill

  "Kira? The others?" she presses.

  "What?" I say. I turn back to her. "Oh, right, that. We had a few problems. It's just him, as you...requested."

  I state the facts loud and clear and then begin stepping off down the hill. It's a little unfair on Max, perhaps, to leave him with her, but I'm sure he can handle it.

  "I...Kira," I hear her shout after me. I detect her rushing down towards me. Before I know it, her hand is on my shoulder, gripping firmly and turning me around. "What do you mean, just him?" she goes on, staring at me intently. "Where are the rest?"

  I feel a very clear response inside, my temper beginning to rise. My emerald eyes narrow to feline proportions, glaring right at her hand as it holds my shoulder tight. "Take your hand off me," I growl dangerously. "I've had a long couple of days, and I'm not in the mood for bullshit."

  In some foolish act of defiance, she doesn't respond to my order. Her hand remains steadfast to my shoulder, though I feel her grip relenting just a bit. Slowly, I shut my eyes, going to my zen place to stay calm. Then, in a release of pent up rage, I open them back up, grab her hand, pull it away, and shove her backwards several feet. The swift reprisal is completed with a few angry words, spat off my lips in irritation.

  "I got you your damn boyfriend back," I growl at her. "I'm not your errand girl, Amber. Remember your place here."

  The words are enough to quell any further action from her. I turn and march off, knowing this time she won't follow.

  As I sense her returning up the hill to check on Jude, and perhaps try to get a bit of extra information from poor Maximus, I step immediately over to the small gathering within the abandoned Olympian base. They see me coming immediately, as Ares steps forward and performs a small bow.

  "Lady Kira," he says, "we've been expecting you."

  "A little earlier than this, I'd assume," I say. "I didn't expect to be this long."

  "But your mission was a success?" questions Burns, looking up the hillside, where Max and Amber stand, Jude being gathered back up into the Neoroman's arms.

  "Strictly speaking, yes," I say. "We got the boy back for Amber's sake. The rest of the deserters didn't want to come."

  "And they were happy for you to take the boy?"

  "Well, technically, they don't know. It's a bit of a story, Secretary Burns. I'll update you on the full details later."

  "Well, as long as you're back safely, that's the main thing." He turns his eyes to the charred corpses littering the burned down wagons.

  "Slaves?" I ask.

  "Yes," nods Burns. "We believe this may have some connection to the ones who got away. Perhaps those associated with the deserters, or who knew of their plans. Herald Kovas is a man of great cruelty, it would appear."

  "There were some soldiers after the fugitives," I tell them. "Maximus and I took them out. I imagine Kovas doesn't like being undermined."

  "He is weak," Ares asserts commandingly. "We saw that when we came here two mornings ago. A weak man is often a cruel man. If they cannot rule and lead through respect and honour, they turn to acts of barbarism to foster loyalty, ruling instead through fear."

  "Kovas will see his comeuppance," says Burns. "I believe there is a line forming to see who will be given the honour of the finishing blow, when the time comes."

  "And yet," I say, looking around, "he isn't anywhere to be seen."

  "No, they must have left some time during the night."

  I take a breath, bunching my fists. "How can they be gone," I sigh, shaking my head. "What about Brie? We need to rescue her."

  "We do," nods Ares. "And we will, in time."

  I glance across to see that Amber has rejoined us, standing timidly to one side. Max, meanwhile, appears to be transporting Jude towards a small convoy of jeeps at the edge of the base.

  "Our path will take us north," says Burns, his voice carrying no doubt of that fact. "We have no choice in that now. It is only a matter of when."

  "And him?" I ask, looking towards Perses. "He's, what, on our side now?"

  "He's on his people's side," Burns t
ells me. "He will fight to free them alongside us. Together we will set this right."

  "And...so will I." I turn to see Amber standing there, appearing so small and innocent amid the current contingent. "I'm going to help where I can too."

  I look at her and nod. It was, after all, our arrangement. I get Jude back, and she helps us where she can.

  "And your other boyfriend?" I ask her. I do so with a tone of honour, and not scorn. None of this can be easy for her, after all.

  "He's...coming around," she says quietly. I notice, now, that she has red markings on her neck. It appears as though someone has tried to strangle her. I suspect I know who.

  "Plenty has happened in your absence, Kira," Burns says, drawing my eyes away. "We will inform you of it all shortly."

  "And all this?" I ask, turning my eyes around once more. "How many of the workers were sacrificed here?" My mind flashes on Nestor, on the people he tortured, burned, sacrificed at the altar.

  "We're not sure yet," Burns says. "Likely a few dozen. "We will see them gathered up and buried. They may not have been respected in life, but we will make sure they are in death."

  "And your mission," says Commander Hendricks, glancing as Maximus carries Jude towards the cars. "You were gone for two days to fetch one young man?" He frowns. Clearly, he hadn't been aware of all this before I'd mentioned it just now. It seems to irk him somewhat that he was both left out, and that we sent two of our best to retrieve a single Olympian slave.

  "It's...complicated, Commander Hendricks," I say. "Our mission was the boy and it has been successfully completed. There's not much more to say right now."

  "Not out here, anyway," Burns says. "The departure of the Olympian army has changed everything. We must return to the city and inform the President. Your husband-to-be must hear of this too. We may need the support of Neorome more than ever now."