A Dome of Blood

by Bella Forrest

  Just then, as if summoned by misfortune itself, Ta’Zan walked in. His brow was furrowed, and there were faint but dark circles under his eyes. He was stressed out of his mind, and he was clearly having trouble keeping it together.

  Amal froze, but offered him a weak smile. “Father. How can we help?” she asked.

  “Prepare another batch of pills for Derek. I’d like to take him out again, tomorrow morning,” Ta’Zan replied.

  “Of course. I’ll have them ready in a few hours,” Amal said.

  I slowly shifted in front of the work table. I didn’t want him to see the tools and parts we’d already placed on it. Not that he knew what we were up to, but I didn’t want him thinking that I was doing anything other than what he’d ordered. He wasn’t stupid. On the contrary.

  He looked at me, and I could almost feel him digging into my soul, the claws scratching away at my conscience and clutching my throat. “Help your sister, Amane,” he muttered, then left.

  The silence he left behind gave me quite a headache. There was something different about him, an intensity of sorts that I’d never seen or felt before. He wasn’t like this. This version of him carried a dark energy that turned my legs into chunks of lead.

  “There’s something odd about him,” I whispered, staring at the door.

  “He’s been injecting himself with some of the bio materials we used to develop the Arch-Perfects,” Amal replied.

  “Well, he’s made himself as difficult to kill, that much I know.”

  “Hm… It’s not just that. He hasn’t told me, but I’m sure there’s more to it. We don’t have an inventory of the genetic materials, though, so I don’t know what he used,” Amal explained. “All I know is that I’m getting a bad vibe from him. He’s been like this since they first took down the comms blockers and bombed his ships.”

  “Genetic modifications on himself? As a live specimen?”

  “Probably. But I wouldn’t know what, exactly, what works and what impact it’s having on him,” Amal said. “However, it does work in our favor a little bit. He’s already frustrated and distracted. Whatever physical changes he’s going through, it has to be tough.”

  “Okay, let’s do his pills and get cracking on the memory wiper.” I sighed. “What pills are we making, exactly?”

  Amal stared at me for a moment, her eyes wide. “That’s right, you weren’t here when he devised the cocktail,” she mumbled.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’ll show you,” she said, then took a deep breath. “It’s nothing complicated. It’s just to help Derek deal with sunlight when he goes out with Ta’Zan.”

  Ta’Zan was a brilliant chemist. When it came to drugs, cures, and treatments, he knew his stuff, combining biology with chemistry and even genetic engineering, if necessary. He’d devised all the treatments for both Perfects and Faulties, and he’d been the one to come up with a healthy and efficient acceleration process for the embryo development, shrinking the pregnancy term from nine months to mere hours.

  But Ta’Zan never did anything out of the sheer goodness of his heart, and I didn’t think Amal knew anything about it. “What’s the recipe?” I asked. “Did you make it?”

  “No. He gave me the quantities and preparation instructions. He came up with the composition,” she said.

  Ta’Zan was doing something with these pills for Derek. I just didn’t know what. I didn’t have his exquisite knowledge of chemistry—I knew my way around it, especially where biological and mechanical processes were concerned, but I had little to do with the medication side of things. Ta’Zan didn’t need to take Derek out on a walk under the sun, unless he was doing something with it.

  I didn’t think the recipe would tell me much, unless I looked into the ingredients and quantities used. Amal would’ve picked up on it, had she known more than me. My stomach churned. I suspected, deep down, that Ta’Zan was up to something.

  The mass memory wiper was our priority, though. Amal asked me to get started on the structure, while she prepared Ta’Zan’s pills. Time wasn’t on our side, and we had too much to deal with, already. We were playing the parts of the obedient assistants, but we were actively plotting our maker’s demise.

  The fear of anything going wrong was permanently ticking in the back of my head, but I followed my sister’s advice and refused to let it get to me. It worked. Before I knew it, I was elbow-deep in the mass memory wiper, connecting circuits and preparing the holding hatch for the serium sticks.

  Once it was done, all it needed was an awakened Hermessi to power it up. At the end of it all, I saw myself jumping in Ridan’s arms and showering him with kisses. The only ending I wanted for this story.

  Herakles

  Nathaniel and his crew updated us on what they’d learned on Calliope, along with how they were going to help us, as we trekked through the jungles toward the colosseum. We contacted Kallisto and the other Faulties along the way. We were due to meet on the southwest border of Ta’Zan’s fortress, according to our plan.

  “I’m amazed that Raphael chose to rebel, with his memories intact,” Nathaniel said.

  We were stocked up on invisibility paste and red lenses, and we’d made liberal use of them throughout the journey. We had to keep a low profile, and being completely unseen was the best way to do it.

  “I don’t think we would’ve turned against Ta’Zan had our memories not been wiped,” Nathaniel added.

  “I was loyal to a fault, from what I was told,” Araquiel replied.

  “Hey, quit lingering on thoughts of your former selves,” I told them, constantly looking around, wary of Perfects stumbling upon us. The last thing we wanted was a fight just as we were about to infiltrate the colosseum. I could see it rising, not far from our location. Sonic booms echoed overhead—soldiers flying around, scouting the nearby islands and most likely looking for me and my people. The rebels. “Focus on what you’ll be doing from now on, with a free will and a clear mind. That’s what will define you, in the end. Not what Ta’Zan programmed you to believe.”

  “Sorry,” Araquiel replied. “I’m still processing all of this.”

  “I know. But we’ve got one crazy mission ahead, and we cannot fail. I really don’t want to spend the rest of my life swimming upstream against Ta’Zan,” I said.

  Movement in the distance caught my eye—movement on the southwest jungle border. With my lens on, I could see the two dozen Faulties and another thirty Draenir. The former were using the invisibility spell—I’d insisted upon it, because we needed more of an edge against the Perfects. The Draenir, however, were hiding beneath makeshift bushes that mimicked the local flora, and they’d also used mud and dried leaves on their skin to help them blend in.

  “There they are,” I whispered.

  “The swamp witch didn’t have enough ingredients to make enough for everyone, I see,” Araquiel replied, following my gaze. “She did warn us about it, but the Draenir didn’t seem to mind that we got dibs first. We’ll need Calliope to send some more, but with the Perfects intercepting almost everything, it’ll be tough. Besides, my team needs the magic more than anyone else, given what we’re about to do.”

  “No argument there,” I said, and chuckled softly. “It just makes for a pretty funny view, because the Draenir can actually pass as genuine trees and bushes. That’s top-grade camouflage. I thought only my kind could pull it off, yet here come the Draenir, putting us to shame. I guess I’ll add that to their repertoire of acquired skills.”

  The Draenir had been hiding for much longer than my Faulties. Years, to be specific. We’d had maybe weeks out in the wilderness, learning to blend in. No wonder the Draenir didn’t even need invisibility magic. They’d learned to use the environment in their favor, in the absence of other artifices.

  We snuck through the woods, going from tree to tree, while Perfects patrolled the areas to our left. As long as they didn’t see us, we could move freely. I led the way, with Araquiel, Nathaniel, Uriel, Deena, and
Angelica right behind me.

  Kallisto was waiting by one of the pink orchid trees, accompanied by my crew, all of them wearing red lenses. As soon as she saw me, she lit up like the sun and waved at me—as if I couldn’t see her already.

  I motioned for her to put her arms down. “I can see you, nimrod,” I hissed.

  “Took you a while,” she said, then stilled at the sound of Perfects flying overhead. The tree crowns were too rich and full for them to see through. Besides, we were invisible. That gave me a certain kind of confidence, with which I felt like I could take on the entire colosseum. As long as they couldn’t see me, I could easily go around and chop their heads off. An effortless rampage.

  “We had a bunch of Perfects trying to intercept the shuttle,” I said. “But Araquiel took care of them.”

  “Ah. So, they’re the wonder kids from Calliope, huh?” Kallisto replied, smiling at Nathaniel and his group. They offered a collective polite nod in return.

  Araquiel introduced them, then shifted his focus back to me. “We know what we have to do, right?”

  “Yup. But first, my crew here needs to go visible,” I replied, pointing a thumb at Kallisto, in particular, who rolled her eyes in response.

  “I like it like this,” she moaned.

  “I know, sweetie, but the Draenir will get their asses fried if the Perfects don’t see you guys around,” I replied. “And we need all of you to keep the southwest gate busy.”

  The Draenir stood still, hidden beneath their waxed leaves, but they were all listening, ready to spring into action when summoned. I had to appreciate that about them. They weren’t as fast or as powerful as we were, but they sure were ready and determined to help. That gave them more value in the field than a thousand Arch-Perfects, or whatever the hell else Ta’Zan had cooked up in his labs.

  Kallisto and a few other Faulties came forward and split open their satchels, which were loaded with explosive charges devised by Lumi, Amal, and Amane. Another group gave us extra weapons and hundreds of pulverizer pellets to go around.

  Nathaniel, Uriel, Angelica, and Deena had their own weapons now, plus their backpacks filled with ammunition, while Araquiel distributed the explosive charges between them.

  “We’ll infiltrate the colosseum and plant the packages,” Araquiel said, his voice low. “You’ll handle the offensive here, like we agreed, right?” he asked me.

  “You bet,” I replied, then gave Kallisto a nudge. “This vicious screamer here will be my second-in-command.”

  “Good. I’ll stay invisible. Nathaniel, Uriel, Angelica, and Deena will be seen, because the Perfects are using thermal scanners on a regular basis,” Araquiel said. “I may be able to sneak around and bypass them, but the same can’t be guaranteed for all of us. It’s better this way.”

  Kallisto smiled. “It works in your favor that no one kept track of who got lost in orbit when the GASP fleet first came in. No one will care who you are or what you’re doing. Plus, you’re rocking the silk tunics. That’ll work in your favor as well.”

  “It’ll be easier for us to drop the charges, for sure, if we blend in,” Nathaniel replied.

  The guard was changing on the south and west gates. Judging by the sun’s position in the sky, sinking into a reddish sunset, it was about time. The night shift was coming in, and Ta’Zan was probably resting on his laurels, thinking we’d all scattered and run off—certainly not preparing to ambush his people and blow this place up.

  “I’ll start the attack on the southwest, but I’ll pull them toward the south gate to get more of them involved,” I said. “We’ll put our weapons on bullet-mode to piss them off, first, then pulverize as many as we can. They’ll go into a panic and call for backup. By the time you guys are setting the charges, this entire south wing will be popping!”

  “The Draenir should keep their weapons in pulverizer-mode and not risk it, though,” Kallisto said, giving Wallah and his crew a sideways glance. “We don’t want them dying out here.”

  I nodded in agreement, then pointed a finger at Wallah, who was barely visible under his leafy cover. “You heard her, right? Don’t be cheap with the ammo. Fire at will. We didn’t milk those devil-vipers to be conservative with our firepower in the face of danger,” I said.

  Araquiel shook my hand, giving me a stern look. “Thank you for everything,” he murmured.

  “You say that as if this will be the last time we see each other. Don’t be an oaf. Get out of this place alive, dude. I’ve yet to kick your ass in close combat, and I’m itching for a rematch,” I said with a smirk. I looked at Nathaniel. “You all be careful in there, okay? We’ve got a lot more work after this. Once this place goes down, the fae will be coming in. They’ll need our protection.”

  “You can count on us. We’ll see you soon,” Nathaniel replied.

  Araquiel guided them toward the western entrance, darting through the jungle like swift breezes, unseen and unheard by the Perfect guards in the area. I turned to face Kallisto and my rogue Faulties, gripping my pulverizer weapon.

  “Okay. Let’s go annoy some Perfects, then,” I quipped. “Morfuris.”

  A second later, I was visible again. I took the lead and headed toward the southwest entrance. Behind me, the Faulties whispered, “Morfuris,” and revealed themselves. The Draenir stayed close, moving bushes that flanked us as we made our way through the lush jungle.

  I loved this place, and I looked forward to liberating it. This world needed a good cleansing, and I was more than happy to deliver it. What made me even happier was spotting Jakkhiel in charge of the southwest gate guardians.

  I put my arms out, prompting my people to come to a sudden halt. I narrowed my eyes and quickly analyzed the scene waiting for us, just a hundred feet away. Jakkhiel and I had some unresolved issues, and I’d often dreamed of ripping his spine out if I got the chance.

  “Kallisto, do you see the tall, blond-haired fella with a golden chest plate?” I asked quietly.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I’ll start a conversation with that bastard, while the rest of you fan out and prepare to engage,” I said.

  I didn’t wait for her to reply. I knew she’d do as I asked. Instead, I sauntered through the woods, as if I’d just gone out for a walk. I was a Faulty, after all. I wasn’t cause for immediate concern. Not until they saw my weapon, at least.

  Unsurprisingly, as I got closer to the southwest gate, Jakkhiel was the first to hear me and turn around to look at me. The instant frown on his face told me everything I needed to know. He remembered me, and he knew that he was in a world of pain if I got my hands on him.

  “Look what the tide dragged in,” he called out, his voice echoing between the trees.

  “For all the pain you caused me, all the torment and torture, did you really think I’d let you live in peace, Jerkiel?” I shouted, grinning like a hungry turquoise tiger, ready to devour its prey.

  He pointed a clawed finger at me, the thirst for my blood glimmering in his eyes.

  “It’s about time someone put you out of your misery,” he said.

  I took another step forward and pointed my weapon at him. The color drained from his face as he realized what I was holding. I could almost taste his fear on the tip of my tongue.

  “Tell you what, let’s talk about that after I fill you with holes,” I replied.

  The other Perfects around me were tense, gripping their own weapons with such strength that their knuckles had turned white. They nearly broke down when they saw my rogue Faulties moving out and closing in around them, pointing their pulverizers at them. The atmosphere changed in a millisecond. The jungle went silent, as if anticipating the incoming carnage.

  This had quickly turned into a whoever-shoots-first-gets-to-live kind of scenario. And it was my only opportunity to keep my word to Jakkhiel. Not that long ago, he’d nearly flayed me like a fish, purely for the fun of it. In my book, he was as cruel and as horrible as Abaddon. He didn’t deserve a fresh start. Nothing could be done to wipe
away the murders and pain he’d left behind. Jakkhiel was evil.

  Ta’Zan’s indoctrination had merely served to amplify that. I’d seen enough of these creatures to separate the decent from the monsters. And Jakkhiel was definitely a monster, begging for my bullets. Fortunately, I had plenty to spare.

  Elonora

  Kailani, Lumi, Corrine, and Ibrahim were huddled together, talking about the bilocation spell. From what I’d understood, they all needed to be perfectly in sync with each other while they performed the ritual. That meant four clear minds and peaceful hearts. The latter was tough, since Kailani carried the accidental deaths of four Draenir on her conscience.

  Meanwhile, I stayed close to Hunter, Nevis, and the others in my crew, as we listened to Rose, Ben, Derek, and Sofia talk about the evacuation procedure. There were hundreds of us in this diamond dome, and we needed to leave as smoothly and as quietly as possible.

  Isda and her Faulties were present, delivering food, water, and fresh blood in glass pitchers. She stayed close to our group, while the prisoners flanked us and obstructed the Perfect guards’ view. Those by the door seemed pretty jaded and bored, but the ones outside, stationed on the outer passageways affixed to the dome, liked to keep an eye on us.

  “Isda, have you seen Amal and Amane?” Derek asked her.

  “Yes. They’ve asked me to tell you that they have all the pieces they need for the memory wiper,” Isda replied. “They’re having trouble putting it together because Ta’Zan keeps giving them stuff to do. At first, he wanted Amal to prepare some daylight pills for you, for a stroll tomorrow morning. But now, he’s asked her to hurry up and get it done this afternoon. I think Ta’Zan has something to tell you, away from everyone else.”

  Derek frowned. “That’s… odd, to say the least.”

  “And not a good sign, given how much we’ve annoyed him so far,” I chimed in. “I doubt he has good intentions. Can you refuse his invitation for a… stroll? Is that what he calls it? A stroll?”