Children of Enochia

by Luke R. Mitchell

  “Is it just me,” I muttered to Johnny as we started down the ramp, “or does it seem like you might have a potential rival for Glenbark’s affections?”

  He frowned at me, gave up preemptively on trying to deny my allegations, and instead turned his frown to Hopper.

  “Whatever,” he muttered. “Guy didn’t kill half the reekers on Enochia today, did he?”

  “You’re the undisputed champion, broto.”

  “Damn straight.”

  “I’d give you a high five,” I said, holding up my splinted wrists, “but…”

  He narrowed his eyes at me but said nothing as Glenbark waved us over to her and Hopper.

  “Straight to the medica with me?” I asked.

  “Actually, I’d prefer we discuss the matter of Alton Parker’s intel immediately.” She glanced at my wrists, her expression softening a few degrees. “If you’re up to it, of course.”

  “I think Calvin gave me enough painkillers to make a haga go huggy. I’ll be all right.”

  “It’s good to see you in one piece, Citizen Raish,” Hopper said, laying a hand on my shoulder. His words sounded sincere enough, but I couldn’t help notice his smile looked a bit strained. I wasn’t sure why, or even that I hadn’t simply imagined it.

  After Johnny and I took a moment to once again give our thanks to Edwards and Dillard and the rest of the Hounds, we departed the landing pads with the two generals, listening attentively as Hopper filled us in on what was happening around Oasis.

  The damage and disrepair wrought on the base from two major battles and a violent—albeit short—hybrid occupation were far from insignificant. Not that that came as much of a shock. Still, as I’d suspected, the foundations of the base still held plenty strong, and Hopper’s crews were well on their way to restoring what critical infrastructure had been lost. My estimations on troop counts hadn’t been far off either.

  Everything else considered, it seemed a not-so-small miracle that they’d managed to marshal such a serious presence in Oasis on such short notice.

  But, as Glenbark pointed out, that was exactly how well-executed leadership often ended up looking: a seeming miracle from the outside, and a long, carefully managed set of checks and smart questions from within. She favored Hopper with a warm smile as she said it, and he returned it with interest, his earlier tension forgotten.

  I didn’t miss the dirty look Johnny shot at the back of the good general’s head during the exchange. There might’ve even been a muttered something or another about married men, but who knew.

  The short trek to Central Command was more of a relief than I’d expected. Hearing numbers was fine, but it was good to actually see the men and women going about their duties with my own eyes—an irrefutable hustle to their step, and a brimming pride to their movements as they stopped to salute their generals. These soldiers believed in what they were doing. You could practically taste it in the air. And while true belief certainly wasn’t a hard requirement for disciplined soldiers to get their jobs done, I would’ve taken a single fireteam of these legionnaires over a squad who knew damn well their High General was a corrupt, lecherous bastard.

  It didn’t hurt, either, that none of them tried to shoot me this time.

  That’s not to say they didn’t look weary as they took me in. Afraid, even. But considering the depths this mess had slid to in only a few short days, that was perfectly reasonable, in my mind.

  Soon enough, the four of us were through the vocal chaos of the still-coming-together central command room and settling down in Glenbark’s new office. It wasn’t the well-polished darkwood museum her Haven office had been, but then again, I wasn’t so sure she’d ever particularly cared for that decor anyway. This office was smaller, the furniture and aesthetic more reminiscent of what I’d expect to find in a Legion encampment out in the field—effective and utterly without gaudy flash.

  It suited her, I decided. As did the dark blue armor she’d swapped her High General’s tunic for.

  “Right then,” Glenbark said, taking a seat at the room’s single battered table and gesturing for us to join her. “Let’s have it all at once, Haldin. What has Alton Parker been hiding?”

  As I had with Elise and the others, I started with what Parker had shown me in the brig and pushed on from there—though I may have spent a little more time with this audience making it particularly clear why I’d had little choice but to run for my life and drag Parker with me. Aside from several open gapes and a few stutter starts from Hopper, who was summarily waved to silence by a stern-faced Glenbark, they listened without interruption to Parker’s disturbing revelations about Sarentus, the rakul, and our very existence on Enochia.

  When I finished, they were both silent for a while, staring off

  “You both seem to be taking this pretty well,” Johnny said.

  General Hopper stirred, blinking. “I think I might’ve had a brain bleed ten minutes back.” He looked at Glenbark, but she was still lost in thought, staring somewhere just over my shoulder and about a thousand miles away.

  “We can’t just take this on faith,” Hopper continued, turning back to me. “You call this intel, but we’re talking about, what, memories? Memories from an alien mind that you can’t even tell us is reliable with any certainty. Without anything more…” He just shook his head, spreading his upturned palms as if to say, What do you expect us to do with this?

  “I understand,” I said, trying my best to actually mean it. Because much as I wished I could somehow just show them what I’d seen, clearly as I’d seen it, I would’ve been crazy to expect them to swallow any of this without some kind of proof. “I’m just reporting what I’ve learned to the best of my ability.”

  Hopper opened his mouth like he’d been expecting an argument, then closed it, surprised, and gave me an approving nod. “Very well. Thank you, Citizen Raish.” He looked at Glenbark again, silently inviting her to weigh in.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about the Emmútari’s depiction of Sarentus after your capture at Humility?” she finally asked.

  My stomach sank. Out of all the questions she could have asked…

  “He didn’t tell me either, for what it’s worth,” Johnny said, maybe because he wanted to clear his own name in Glenbark’s books, or maybe because he was still a bit miffed about it. Maybe both.

  Glenbark said nothing and continued watching me for an answer.

  “Franco and I agreed it was unnecessarily volatile information to bring up without having first tried to verify it,” I finally managed. “We didn’t want to automatically discredit everything else that’d happened.”

  “That sounds like a Francesco Fields answer,” Glenbark said. “What’s yours?”

  I swallowed. “I was afraid of what it might mean. For my own credibility. For my already strained relationship with the Legion and the Sanctum. And I guess maybe I was afraid it was true, too. I’m sorry for holding it back, sir.”

  She watched me closely.

  “Is there anything else you’re holding back at this point?”

  As many dark secrets as I’d been carrying around lately, I genuinely had to stop and think about it before I could shake my head. “That’s everything, sir. Though I worry that…”

  “Go on,” she said.

  “He’s worried us mere mortals can’t understand how big of a deal this space dragon guy is,” Johnny said when I was slow to answer.

  Glenbark shot me a questioning look, and I tipped my head, not arguing his point.

  “I’m not sure I can stress enough just how strong the rakul may be. Think of what the raknoth were able to do to our legions. Then imagine the telepath who can hammer armies of raknoth into submission. It was…”

  “I understand, Haldin.”

  I looked up and was almost surprised to find that that’s exactly what I saw in Glenbark’s eyes. Understanding—not for the exact nature of what I’d seen, necessarily, but at least for the weight it had left resting firmly on my chest. The wei
ght of knowing full well what doom was headed for our people.

  “Rest assured,” she continued, her tone gentle, “I hear you. And we will not ignore this intel,” she added with a sideways glance at Hopper. “Though we must tread carefully, of course.”

  “Carefully?” Hopper asked. “Sir, if there’s even a fraction of a chance that the Sanctum… that Sarentus was…”

  He trailed off, either unsure what to think or unwilling to share it with us.

  “If everything you’d ever believed was a lie,” Glenbark said slowly, looking at no one in particular, “would you want to know?”

  Hopper’s jaw and brow worked through half a dozen expressions before he finally settled on a stubborn scowl. “Of course I would.”

  Glenbark waited a few seconds, as if offering him the chance to change his mind, before she finally spoke.

  “Good. Because we’re going to proceed as if these are all viable tips, pending confirmation.”

  Hopper closed his eyes but said nothing.

  “I don’t wish to see any of this prove true either, Marcus. But we were also told we were alone in this universe, and because of that belief, we nearly lost the entire planet before we even knew the fight was upon us. I will not ignore a reliable source questioning our beliefs any more than I will stand by while the Sanctum seeks to commit genocide.”

  “Reliable?” Hopper frowned at me. “He just admitted he’s lied to you. General, I stand by you in our duty to Enochia, in protecting the people and in checking the reach of the Sanctum. You know I do. But questioning the history of our prophet? Of our entire planet? Where does it end?”

  “With the truth, I should hope,” Glenbark said.

  “And what of Alpha, sir? What of that which we may never prove, even if we all know it to be true in our hearts?”

  Glenbark was silent for a long while before she finally turned to me and Johnny.

  “That’s all for now.”

  Johnny and I traded a look, but she pressed on before we could voice our objections.

  “Get yourselves to the medica and get some rest. Both of you. We’ll gather the Seekers and speak soon about how to deal with the fallout of what happened today.”

  None of us had to ask what fallout she was referring to. Even if our moronically simple original plan had panned out earlier and we’d somehow managed to rescue Four and Eight and escape the White Tower without a single casualty, I had no doubt that, within the hour, the reels would have been teeming with horrid accounts of demonic raids and terroristic attacks. But our plan hadn’t panned out. And people had died.

  The Sanctum was going to unleash everything short of the fury of Alpha himself on us.

  Submitting to the medics and resting up was the last thing I felt like doing at the moment. But Glenbark clearly wanted a moment alone with her right hand general, and I had my own people to check in with anyway.

  For a second, I considered asking Glenbark for aid in checking on Elise’s status in Humility, but my gut told me not to, and for once I listened. I stood instead, and Johnny joined me.

  “Raish,” came Hopper’s voice as we moved for the door.

  I turned back, waiting.

  He looked uncertainly at Glenbark before continuing. “I think we can all agree it’s best if you don’t spread these reports too far before we’re able to formulate a proper plan here.”

  I didn’t particularly love the unspoken implications beneath his words, but the request itself seemed earnest and reasonable enough. Glenbark seemed to agree.

  “Until we say otherwise,” she said, “please treat the information we discussed here as classified.”

  We acknowledged that we understood, and left them to privately discuss Alpha knew what. Maybe their relationship with Alpha himself, if our earlier breakdown in conversation had been any indication. The thought made me a little uneasy, though I couldn’t say why—or couldn’t narrow it down from the few thousand obvious and unsettling possibilities, at least.

  Out in the hallway, Johnny looked even less thrilled than I felt—at first, I assumed, because he was indignant about being let out like children so that mommy and daddy could discuss the big grownup things. But he didn’t say a word about it.

  “You okay, man?” I asked.

  “I don’t know, broto,” he said quietly, absentmindedly shaking his head. “That stuff wasn’t really any easier to listen to the second time around. And…” He shook himself out of his funk and sighed. “I don’t know, man. I just need to get ahold of Therese and check on Bells. It’s all I can think about right now.”

  I laid a hand on his shoulder and was a little surprised to feel a wave of relief when he didn’t shrug it away. That was probably just my guilty conscience talking, though. Much as it seemed like Johnny was angry solely at Alton Parker for what had happened to his sister, I couldn’t pretend like I hadn’t played a part in the whole situation. I had a feeling there was more for us to talk about than we’d had time for since our woodland meeting, but for now…

  “Call Therese,” I said, giving his shoulder a squeeze before I let go.

  “Yeah.” He nodded dazedly. “Yeah, I think I will.”

  “I’ll give you some space,” I said, starting down the bare bones hallway toward the dull roar of the main operations room.

  “Hal,” he called before I’d made it far.

  I turned, expecting maybe a thanks or a friendly jab—hoping that maybe he’d tell me to grop off with the sensitivity and come listen in. But he was just standing there, looking pleasantly surprised, his palmlight held up for my inspection.

  My heart surged. “Franco?”

  His grin was all the answer I needed. I hurried back to him. The device buzzed with a new message, and he turned it back to himself to read. “Ah. Pretty sure it’s Elise, actually.”

  The palmlight buzzed again, and again, and Johnny’s expression shifted from relieved to amused to guilty as he skimmed through. I pushed in to look over his shoulder, and he angled the display to give me a better look at the stream of incoming messages.

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  “Guess they got back to the Lights,” Johnny murmured, shooting me that knowing look that was half-amused, half-guilty. “You think maybe we should tell her we’re okay?”

  I was already reaching to jab at the icon to connect us in a call. “Yeah, Johnny. I think we should probably tell her we’re okay.”

  I could’ve laughed or cried, or maybe both. The sight of Elise’s words—the knowledge that she was safe and that my growing worries had been baseless… it was too much relief to process for a moment. Maybe I was just still too wired from the White Tower courtyard. Either way, I nearly lost it when Elise’s face filled the palmlight display.

  “Oh, thank Alpha,” we both sighed at the same time.

  “Warms the heart,” Johnny said, shaking his head.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  Elise shot me an exasperated look. “Are you? I just had a pair of eccentric shut-ins to worry about over here—no offense, guys—but you? I saw the reels, Hal. I…”

  She kept going. Something about knowing a reeker when she saw one, bullscud headlines be damned. But I was still caught up on that one little detail. No offense, guys, she’d said. Like those two eccentric shut-ins were sitting within earshot. Which meant…

  “Wait, are you… Is Kovaks there right now? Are you—where are you?”

  Elise glanced surreptitiously at her surroundings. “We’re safe.”

  “As in safe in the creepy torture dungeon, safe?” Johnny asked.

  In the background, I heard the grumble of a gruff voice that took my mind straight to unpleasant memories of arca
ne wands, hawkish noses, and greasy dispositions. Burton Kovaks. I might not have recognized the voice out of the blue, but in the moment, I was sure.

  “We’ve… established contact,” Elise said slowly. “Yeah.” She looked up at something, and I thought I heard Franco’s voice in the background. Elise nodded at whatever he said, then looked back to us and let out a heavy breath. “Yeah… I guess we have a lot to talk about.”

  28

  Flunked

  “What happened today, Hal?” Elise asked once Johnny and I had found a private room with a working wall display and settled in for that long talk. “Why did the reekers crash the execution? And why the scud were you out there by yourself trying to go full Carlisle on their asses?”

  “They were going after civilians, Lise. It was a slaughter. I think… I don’t know. You said you saw the reels.”

  She nodded.

  “Did you notice how the sneaky bastards kept the scales and the red eyes under wraps until the very end?”

  Elise looked up, presumably at Franco. “We noticed. And you should know that the red eyes never made it onto the reels. The vids all cut before it happens.”

  “Imagine my surprise,” I muttered.

  Of course they would’ve nixed that part from the footage. I felt stupid for even assuming Elise might’ve seen it.

  “So the reekers and the Sanctum are both trying to make it look like this was all just Shaper-on-Shaper violence?” Johnny asked.

  “Seems that way,” Elise said.

  “Showing the whole world what happens when demons roam free,” I said.

  Johnny was frowning at the floor, looking disturbed. “They couldn’t be working together, could they?”

  “I find that unlikely,” came Franco’s voice, a second before he stepped into the display frame over Elise’s shoulder. “Believing that the raknoth would wish to further destabilize Enochia by perpetuating the demon crisis, though… that seems quite within their operational parameters. They must have their reasons.” He focused a meaningful look on me. “Perhaps you should consult your own domesticated raknoth as to what those reasons might be. If we understand their game, we’ll have a better chance of predicting their next move.”