The Antithesis- The Complete Pentalogy

by Terra Whiteman

  I stopped her on our way out. “Are you onboard with this?”

  She pulled my head down and kissed me hard. The frantic crowd around us didn’t seem to notice.

  Leid hurried away, wordless.

  I took that as a yes.

  XXVI

  ANALOG BLUES

  Calenus Karim—;

  ZIRANEL LEANED BACK IN THE CHAIR, his shoulders sagging in succumbence to the attica nod. He’d been at it for a while, the strands of black hair against his forehead now damp with perspiration. We couldn’t see the sereneness of his face as he combed euxodia’s database, a look of half sleep, half consciousness that masked the true strain of his task. The visor covered him from eyes to the bridge of his nose, casting blue iridescence across his skin.

  Ixiah sat across from him, shooting me occasional looks—looks that asked, “What are we doing?”

  “Found some,” murmured Ziranel, his speech slurred from partial sleep. “Several queries were made recently, too.”

  “What are they?” I asked.

  “One is a submission; our genetic map. The other three are search queries of transitus genes, juvenile hormones and something called Faveria tenacae. I’m not familiar with that species.”

  “Was any information brought up?”

  “No.”

  I breathed a sigh, rubbing my chin. I’d really hoped he wouldn’t go down this road, but then again I should have known better. Shame on me.

  “What does this mean?” Ixiah asked. “Why did Qaira copy and upload our genome into attica?”

  Ziranel pulled off the headset, rubbing at the creases it’d created on his face. “To access it at a later time, obviously. I bet he’s got your brother on board for something. Or Leid. Or both.”

  I already knew what he was up to. “He’s looking to remedy expiration. Surprisingly he’s treading down the right path.” Which meant he had help. Yahweh, probably. He certainly wouldn’t have gone to Lucifer.

  My guardians fell silent, staring at me.

  “Remedy expiration?” asked Ixiah. “I wasn’t aware there was a remedy.”

  “Because that information was pulled long before you or Zira arrived here. In the purest sense it isn’t really a remedy, because we can’t place our natural cycle on indefinite pause.”

  “What is Faveria tenacae?” asked Zira.

  “I don’t know,” I said, shrugging. “But judging by his other queries, I’ll assume it’s some sort of insect.”

  I’d piqued their interest. Unfortunately this was neither the time nor place to delve into the truer version of expiration. “Can you explain this to us?” pleaded Ixiah.

  “I will, but not right now. Right now I have to make the executive decision of whether to intervene.”

  “Sharing information like that is a court violation,” seconded Zira. “But if he’s sharing and using it with Leid, it’s not.”

  “It might also be for personal use. We get curious sometimes,” argued Ixiah. “Just because Qaira’s doing some research doesn’t mean he’s violating anything.”

  I smiled. Ixiah had taken a liking to Qaira, and it was saddening to shake him from the delusion that Qaira had been here without an ulterior motive. “You’re right. We have no evidence proving that he’s sharing information with celestials. But it is logical to deduce that since Qaira is not biologically-inclined whatsoever, someone must have pointed him to the transitus gene after comparing it to our genome.”

  Zira shook his head. “Leid is a biochemist.”

  “Leid is expiring, and we all know she’s the type that would welcome it. She also knows that we regularly monitor euxodia, and such queries could make waves.”

  My guardians said nothing, seeing my point.

  “I want to know more about the transitus gene and what Qaira is trying to find,” said Ixiah, growing restless.

  “Ixiah.”

  He wouldn’t relent. “Why weren’t we told of this?”

  “Because the information is useless, and dangerous. When we expire, we grow twice as strong and a hundred times more violent. There is a transitus gene in our DNA that suggests expiration is a stage of metamorphosis. How long the stage lasts is unknown. It could be days, years, or centuries. We don’t have the means to keep violent, powerful Vel’Haru in Exo’daius for centuries. And what is the end result? What do we turn into? Allow me to point you to the statues of our proxies.”

  “Is that a fact?” challenged Zira.

  “Of course not, but can we risk it?” I frowned, annoyed. “What if the metamorphosis stage takes three hundred years and the end result is the monsters featured at the Sanctuary? Considering our second generation had to kill them and their reign lasted well beyond our point of expiration, I can only assume that they are the final products. Crazy, barbaric, blood-lusting.”

  Their expressions darkened. It seemed I was finally getting through to my guardians.

  “If euthanizing us before we reach that state prevents hundreds of Oraniquitis Lorens from hatching across Exo’daius, then so be it.”

  Zira slumped back into his chair. “Hear, hear.”

  “How do we intervene?” asked Ixiah.

  “Let me think,” I said.

  This was delicate all around. The violets were already on thin ice. Traveling to The Atrium with my scholars would prove easy enough. Leid would be weak as her expiration approached, therefore unable to put up much of a fight.

  But then there were her guardians. Demanding Leid and her kin return to The Atrium wouldn’t sit well with Qaira and Adrial. Zhevraine, I didn’t know. Hopefully she would understand.

  Playing God with Vel’Haru nature was a lethal thing, especially when you knew nothing of it. Qaira’s probing at longevity placed The Atrium in danger, yet again, and should Leid expire there we would have another mess to deal with. A mess that might permanently stain something.

  This had to be civil. It’d been centuries since any scholars fought each other, and doing battle on a lesser world would cost the lives of too many. That left me with one option:

  Speak to Leid myself.

  But that wouldn’t be easy. Getting past her guardians undetected could prove a task. Reconnaissance was crucial.

  “Ixiah, Zira, head to The Atrium and locate Leid and her guardians. I want to know exactly where they are. When you find them, let me know.”

  Zira raised a brow. “Right now?”

  “Yes, right now.”

  They marched off, glancing over their shoulders on the way out of our library. Confusion and alarm played on their faces. I was never so abrupt. They didn’t know how urgent this was.

  As soon as they were gone I winced, lurching forward to massage my head. I’d had a headache for half a day, the pain getting worse by the hour. How ironic that the two nobles left were expiring simultaneously. I’d never thought about dying until now, and admittedly the idea was frightening. Worse yet was the pain; it served as a warning that my time was almost up. Perhaps this wouldn’t have been so harrowing if I’d had a successor—if I’d had a Queen to continue our line. But there was no Queen. Not here.

  And what would happen to Exo’daius without a noble male?

  If only Aipocinus had known that his reluctant first guardian would be the end of us all. All the trouble she’d brought, all the death she’d caused, and for what? The King Leid had sought to main was already dead, so she settled for doing the rest of us in.

  Leid Koseling.

  Killing her would be such a pleasure.

  XXVII

  MEDITATIO ONE

  Qaira Eltruan—;

  THE ATTACK WAS A RUSE. JUST A couple hundred jets that didn’t even make it through Seyestin’s team. I had to wonder how General Trede was doing. I hadn’t seen him since yesterday afternoon, which meant he’d been leading front line defense for twelve hours straight.

  Yahweh held Ezekiel on guard. The attack seemed suspect— maybe bait to a larger ambush down the road. We had entered Lohr airspace half an hour ago, y
et had seen very little in terms of enemy activity. That had surprised everyone, considering we’d all been certain of a hostile welcome wagon.

  Raith wasn’t proving as predictable as Telei had thought.

  Naberius and Belial surveyed Lohr’s skies on deck, both of them wearing looks of concern. They, too, feared something was amiss. We were less than an hour away from Golheim; one of Archdemon Uhnem’s troops should have tried to contact him or Ezekiel by now.

  The specialists had completed my armor customizations. After giving them a look-over, also noticing the armorsmith’s unnerving glare as I held up the helmet—which was nearly identical to the Sanctum Enforcers’ standard issue, albeit with some upgraded tech—I decided it would do. I sent my recruits to the armory to get fitted, waiting on deck with the two rebel demons, Adrial and Zhevraine.

  “I think Commander Raith figured out your plan,” said Zhevraine, watching the sky turn. The third layer’s horizon had taken on a two-tone iridescence; one of fiery amber and cool navy. Lohr had once been Celca, an outside rural territory of Sanctum. Despite the rest of the scenery, the sky hadn’t changed at all. Looking at it left a lump in my throat.

  “We should have seen some activity,” said Naberius. “I can’t believe my city would surrender so soon. They didn’t want this war. The enlistment protests and public rallies said it all.”

  “Lucifer could have cut them off before they made it out here,” offered Adrial, malay cigarette in hand. It seemed he never went anywhere without one these days. Vel’Haru loved mind-altering substances, if that wasn’t already apparent.

  “Chatter is useless until we see what happened,” said Belial, clicking his teeth. “Speculations are a waste of time. Either way we’re winning.”

  “Winning,” I repeated, unenthused. “We’ve faced one tiny army and have survived the poor, lowly-populated armpits of Hell. Hooray, us.”

  Belial frowned. “Stop being such a negative nelly. Let me tell you, I thought we were done for after Avernai. Your lot has surprised me, so let’s try to keep our chins up.”

  “Easy for you to say.” Naberius sulked. “Your city isn’t facing total destruction.”

  “That has yet to be seen. Besides, Tehlor isn’t my city anymore. I don’t have a city. The only thing I have here is a noose with my name on it.”

  Adrial removed himself from the conversation, joining my side. “Some of the soldiers are filing complaints to Cereli about your method of training.”

  I shrugged. “Let them say what they want. Yahweh has given me free reign over how I train my men.”

  “Just giving you a heads-up, in case she says anything to you.”

  “And what would she say? If she has a problem she’ll have to take that up with Yahweh.”

  “How is the armor design going?”

  “It’s done. My men are being fitted as we speak.”

  “Is it as disturbing as the primers’?”

  I smirked. “They’ve got nothing on this.”

  Adrial raised a brow. “Ooh, I’m intrigued. Mind if I take a look?”

  “Help yourself.”

  He nodded, departing for the armory.

  Adrial would be back in a few minutes to tell me how deranged and insensitive I was, so I high-tailed it to the command station.

  Two guards stood sentry at the door. Yahweh and Leid were stationed around the holo-map of Lohr. Leid was entering coordinates into the control panel, while Yahweh spoke to someone through his audio-feed headset. It only took a second to know that he was speaking to Seyestin, and the apprehension in his eyes warned of bad news.

  In contrast to the evident tension, Leid seemed adrift as ever, surveying optimal routes of passage over Golheim. Yahweh had taken a sample from her a little while ago. A finger, like me. A small kerchief was wrapped around her regenerating thumb, and a box of paperweights rested on the navigation desk. She hadn’t used any yet.

  Yahweh severed the call and gazed at the window, perplexed.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Golheim is practically a crater. Lucifer ordered a fire strike on the entire city.”

  Brutal, and uncharacteristic. “So we skip the city and continue on.”

  “A few of Seyestin’s pilots got close enough to the scene. There’s no aerial defense, and soldiers were spotted in the ruins. None of them can discern if they’re friend or foe.”

  “Too risky. Keep moving.”

  “I already said that,” added Leid.

  Yahweh shook his head. “If there are survivors, we should get them. More soldiers are always better.”

  “They won’t have the things we need. If the city’s gone, so is their war-machinery and artillery.”

  “After the battle of Azenou, Cereli desperately needs reinforcements. I understand the risk. I’ve ordered Seyestin and his team to take some photographs and send them over. Hopefully Naberius and Belial can shed some light on the identity of the soldiers in Golheim.”

  Yahweh’s mind was made up. If he’d refuted Leid, nothing I said would sway him either.

  “Do what you want, but if there are two Judges telling you otherwise, it’s probably a bad idea.”

  “Thanks for everyone’s opinion, but sometimes erring on the side of safety isn’t the best tactic. If they’re allies, the risk is worth it. Not to mention our willingness to rescue demon survivors attacked by their own territory would make us look all the better. Let’s be heroic.”

  I smirked, impressed. “Plus one for heart.”

  “One step at a time,” said Leid, incredulous. “Get Naberius in here to identify them, and then we’ll talk plans.”

  *

  No one seemed to like my elite customized armor.

  I’d seen it coming, but hadn’t expected everyone to flip out this much.

  Only twenty minutes after my squad arrived on deck, Yahweh was forced to halt the entire Golheim recovery operation after uproar raged across the ship.

  Naberius had identified the demons in Golheim as his own. The red chalice emblem on their armor marked them as Lohr Imperial, one of the main factions working against the Obsidian Court.

  That had settled it. Yahweh ordered an extraction team into Golheim to recover the demon allies. Cereli led the charge, accompanied by Zhevraine and Adrial.

  My team was ordered to go as well, serving to defend the extraction team in case of an ambush. Suited up, we headed on deck for the transporter lift, and then everyone started shouting. Some even ran. The only one unscathed by the sight of us was Belial, who’d laughed out loud.

  I found everyone’s horror kind of flattering.

  Yahweh and Cereli didn’t seem to think so. I was pulled into the command station and accused of being insensitive and abusive toward their history.

  “You asked me to train an elite unit on par with the enforcers,” I reminded Telei. “You wanted enforcers, you got enforcers.”

  Yahweh scowled. “I said to train them like enforcers. I didn’t say dress them like enforcers. Qaira, the sight of them alone is a trigger. I don’t have to recount what you—they—did to us pre-settlement.”

  “Yeah, it’s frightening. It’s a trigger. It’s supposed to be. The demons were angels, too. If they see a group coming after them dressed in enforcer gear, it’s likely they’ll shit their pants. Isn’t that what you want? The primers use scare-tactics, too. Let’s raise the bar.”

  “This isn’t about raising the bar,” spat Cereli. “Qaira’s masturbating to his glory days.”

  I shot her a mean grin. “Masturbating? The idea of whites dressed in Nehelian armor makes me want to puke. But if that’s what it takes to intimidate the enemy, pass me a fucking bucket.”

  “Keep this civil, please,” Yahweh sighed.

  Leid was silent behind him, trying not to smile.

  “We don’t have time for this,” said Adrial. “It’s too late to change the armor. We can hold an assembly after the extraction is done, but for now everyone will have to deal with it until we’r
e out of Golheim in one piece.”

  “I kind of like it,” said Belial, looking me up and down. “It gives off a holy-shit-what-the-fuck-is-that vibe. I think Qaira’s on to something.”

  “You’re demented,” muttered Zhevraine.

  “Suck it up, people,” I said. “Your history is no less twisted. Here we are, invading Hell, killing demon armies even though four hundred years ago you enslaved and murdered them. Are we going to sit here discussing how Argentia armor might be a trigger for them?”

  Silence.

  “No? Good. Let’s all move along and try to focus on winning the war.”

  *

  Cereli’s group moved ahead of us, barely visible through the smoke clouds and heavy debris. There was a tense feeling in the air, and the silence was ominous.

  Golheim was massive and it would have taken hours to scour just half the city. The transporter dropped us off where Seyestin’s jets had spotted ally activity. Oddly enough, none of these allies revealed themselves when we’d landed. Red flag number one.

  The extraction team moved down the street in clear view, while we covered them from behind walls and within alleys. Our opticams were boosted by heat-signature, but it didn’t help much. Everything was hot from the strike, a few fires still raging several blocks away. Our squad had been out here for twenty minutes. None of the survivors had come to greet us yet. We hadn’t even seen anyone else. Red flag number two.

  I kept tabs on the open channel between Seyestin and Yahweh, listening from the radio embedded inside my mask. There were no signs of airstrike activity near or around Golheim’s perimeter. Ezekiel’s jets circled the city, holding firm aerial defense. Their engines broke sound-space now and then as they soared across the district, concealed by a blanket of smoke that hung over the city like smog. The only other sound was of our boots hitting puddles on the streets from broken waterlines. Bodies lay abandoned in gutters and doorways of collapsed abodes.