by David Beers
He didn't want that for his son. In many ways, Adrian had sold his soul. Not all of it, but a portion? Certainly.
"I don't know if I'll be able to explain this to you, son. Not in the way I want. In the future, if you feel you might have to give up your honor to rise higher, choose your honor. It is better to be a low man with honor than a high one with none."
Chapter Sixteen
“The gigantes are nameless war machines. They will do your bidding until their dying breath.”
—Pamphlet from The Orion Corporation
"You ready for a name?" Alistair asked the gigante.
The creature raised both eyebrows in the most comic fashion Alistair had ever seen. Now that he wasn't trying to kill the beast, he'd taken time to study him. The gigante stood at least a half-meter taller than him, and his muscles made Alistair look small.
He was a freak who had been bred in a laboratory. When there was time, Alistair wanted to know how they did it, what they spliced to create this half-rock, half-man.
"I have no name," he responded to Alistair. "I serve."
"I know, I know, but if you're going to serve me, you're going to have a name."
The beast cocked his head. He couldn't defeat the logic in Alistair's words. He served, and if his master said he needed a name, then he would have one. He nodded. "I serve. What is my name, master?"
"Caesar."
"Yes, master."
It was clear to Alistair that he didn't understand the meaning of the name, but there would be time for that later. He had brought Caesar into the room with the rest of his council, but the giant didn’t seem to notice them. Obs was lying at the gigante's huge feet, resting his head on the left one as if it were a pillow.
"Now, Caesar," Alistair continued, "two things. How do we get to the rest of those who serve, and how do we not get killed doing it?"
The giant pursed his lips as if considering the question. Lying wasn't in him. Alistair wondered if he'd ever been deceptive in his life, but he didn't think so.
Finally, Caesar answered. "I can get us there. I don't know if I can keep us from being killed." He nodded as if confirming what he'd said.
Servia crossed her arms and glared at Alistair. "Well, that sounds grand."
Alistair smirked. "Hey, no one's died yet, and look at Faitrin. She's as good as new. Come on, Caesar, let's plan this thing and go get your buddies."
"I have no—"
Alistair raised a hand to stop him. "As long as you're with me, let's not be so literal, okay? Just let those things go."
Caesar looked at Obs, and the drathe stared back at him, then gave an exasperated sigh. The giant nodded as if the two were sharing a moment about their master.
They all slept except Caesar. He stood watch in front of the door like a machine, not moving.
When they woke, they left the hotel, following Caesar's lead. He still had the equipment he'd brought with him. He called it a kill kit, and that was what it was. There were weapons Alistair had never seen and tools he couldn't begin to understand. Caesar paid none of that any attention but pulled out a card. It was black and looked tiny in the giant's hand. If he made a fist, he could crush it to dust.
Alistair was amazed he'd killed one. The sheer size of these beings was beyond anything he'd seen. They were even bigger than the Myrmidons.
"We will use this," the being said in his stilted language.
"What is it?" Servia asked.
They'd turned down a back alley, though it wasn't empty. On this planet, people walked almost constantly.
Caesar tilted his head toward the sky. "They watch all the time. This will make it so they cannot watch." He touched two fingers to the card, one on either side. The edge of the black card lit up, flashing bright gold for a brief moment before returning to its original color.
"Come. Walk," Caesar commanded, slipping his card into his pocket.
Alistair waited until the rest of the group started forward before moving. He didn't know where they were heading, but somehow he'd found another loyal soul—as long as he kept winning.
The AllMother was walking next to him, which was what he wanted. "When we get to these creatures, things are going to get very dangerous. I'm sure you know I don't have a plan yet, but the goal is to convince all those beings that look like Caesar to follow me. Right now, they're going to try to kill me the moment I'm in sight. I know you get that. I want you to be careful. I'm going to ask Caesar to hide you somewhere, but if we can't..." He chuckled and looked at her. "If we can't, you have to promise me you’ll stay alive."
"As you told them, I haven't died yet."
Alistair nodded at the giant. "Any thoughts about him?"
The AllMother raised a skeptical eyebrow.
"I'm not asking for advice," he added with a grin. "I've already made my decision. I'm asking for your thoughts about what you know so far."
She was quiet for a moment, her face taking on a pensive look. "My brother is the one who talks about fate, but the more I see, the more I believe in it. The kings of old had knights. Their best ones were feared throughout the lands." She pointed a bony finger at the giant. "That's your knight. Your first one. I think he'll kill multitudes for you, and I think he'll be feared throughout the universe. I believe Fate is building us an army."
"Not all of my choices have been the right ones," he said softly. "I know you don't want to help me make decisions—"
The old woman put her hand on his. "Not now. Now we go get the rest of your knights. We can talk about your nagging doubts another time."
Alistair nodded. "Yes, ma'am." Perhaps she'd sensed what was coming next, or maybe she didn't want him thinking negatively before a battle. Either way, a transport dropped from the sky directly in front of Caesar.
The gigante stepped to the passenger door, which was standing open. He said something to the AI inside, then pulled his head back and looked at Alistair. "Master, we are ready."
The AllMother smiled. "It's a very strange universe, isn't it? Who would have thought all these majestic things existed?"
Alistair wasn't sure if she was talking about the transport, the giant, or everything else that had happened. He kept his mouth shut and got in.
Chapter Seventeen
“We have all done things we aren’t proud of.”
—The AllMother
The AllMother closed her eyes and allowed herself to fall asleep as the transport flew through the sky. She didn't know how it worked or if she’d be protected from those who wished to do her harm, but she had faith. She hadn't been lying to Alistair when she said this new being was like a knight of old. Caesar would never meet anyone stronger than Alistair; the AllMother knew that to be true, so he would go to battle for the man.
The AllMother was so very, very tired. She did her best to keep up with these people who were not even a tenth her age, but it was wearing her down. She'd keep going, putting one foot in front of the other, but all she wanted to do was rest.
Rather than worry if she'd be protected during this flight to wherever, she did just that.
Her mind took her back.
It remembered things from long ago, things she hadn’t ever wanted to think about again.
Alex opened her eyes, then blinked.
She didn't understand where she was at first. Her body hurt tremendously, and she appeared to be in some kind of glass capsule.
Alex turned her head to the left and saw herself. She wasn't looking into a mirror but another capsule. She tried to understand how she could be in two places at once.
It wasn't possible.
Yet her vision didn’t clear.
"She's awake."
Alex didn't know the voice. It came from her right, so she sluggishly turned her head in that direction. A man was standing there in a black robe, meaning he was medical. He was staring at her, and Alex could see a comm in his ear. He looked scared, she thought. He's scared of me.
"She's awake, godsdamn it. They both are from the l
ook of it. Gas the tanks. Put 'em both to sleep," the doctor nearly screamed into his comm. His fear was making Alex very nervous.
Gas shot into the capsule and Alex panicked. She didn't know what was going on or where she was.
Only that this doctor was trying to knock her out.
Something happened that Alex had never before experienced. Her mind reached out like a physical hand and slammed into the glass harder than she could have punched, shattering it.
Every bit of it at once. The glass started to fall toward her, and she was scared of being cut.
Her mind reached out again, and the glass paused in mid-air, not falling nor shooting outward, frozen.
How am I doing this? she wondered. She turned her head to look at the woman in the other tank. Her mind was still refusing to believe it was her. The gas flowed into the capsule, and the other person's eyes closed as she succumbed.
Alex turned to the right then. The man's mouth opened and closed but no words exited. His bladder let loose, and his robe darkened in the front.
"SHE'S OUT!" he shouted, then he turned and ran. He didn't look back or slow. He fled as if for his life.
Alex turned back to the glass hovering around her, and a question came to her: What do I do with it? She decided she didn't want it around her, then she saw it rush across the room and slam into the wall. Alex swung her feet off the platform she lay on but didn't hop down to the floor. She didn't trust her legs.
Instead, she stared at the girl in the other capsule. Her eyes were closed, but Alex couldn't deny it anymore. She was staring at herself.
She remembered what her father had done to her when she was staring at this replica.
Her eyes are red, she thought about the girl who looked like her. They had been red when she first looked out of the capsule at her. "Are mine?" she asked aloud, the memories of her father's awful plans rushing back. Alex started trembling, her arms, her legs, even her lips. She saw a mirror across the room and knew she couldn't get to it, but it floated over to her.
She didn't need to look in any mirror to know her eyes were red. She'd seen the proof ever since she'd awoken. She did look, though, and sure enough, red eyes stared back at her. She was now a mutant, modified.
Alex glanced over her shoulder at the sleeping woman who looked exactly like her. Alex's body was still trembling, and real fear sank in.
She didn't know who was who. She didn't know if she or the other woman was the clone. That was the whole point, the cells copying their very memories. Was she real, or was the other one?
Footfalls, many of them, echoed in a hallway leading to this room. The little doctor had brought people, perhaps her father's Titans or the Praetorian Guard.
Still trembling, Alex hopped off the platform. Her legs gave out immediately, and she fell to one knee. She looked up in time to see her father enter the room. His Praetorians trailed him in two rows. Her father was wearing the same purple as always, looking royal even as his daughter wore a gown showing her ass.
He stopped when he saw her eyes and the red irises. His mouth opened to say something, but like the doctor before him, he seemed to have lost the ability to speak. Alex's trembling had stopped. She remembered how savagely this man had beaten her. He'd knocked her unconscious, then locked her away for a month.
Very carefully, Alex rose to her feet. Her father was still standing there, as dumbfounded as if this hadn't been what he'd wanted all along. His eyes flashed to the capsule behind Alex, then quickly came back to her.
"Two of us, Father, as you asked for," Alex said. Her voice was cruel, and she no longer questioned what her mind could do. Perhaps she didn't know everything, but she knew it felt like another appendage. She could control it, and these men standing here with all their weapons couldn't.
"I need you to lie back down on that platform, Alexandria," her father instructed. "Right now."
"Have you seen Alexander, Father? Is he like me?" she asked. "Where is he? I'd like to see him?"
"Lie down!" he screamed, red heat rising on his cheeks.
She'd never seen him this angry except when he'd beaten her.
"No," Alex answered. "I want to see him." She dipped her chin slightly so her red eyes were full in his vision. Alex smiled, and at that moment, she understood how her father had felt when he hit her. She wanted to hurt something.
She waved her hand to the right, and the two rows of Praetorians flew through the air and slammed into the wall. Concrete shattered, and dust floated upward. The Praetorians didn't even have time to grunt. They were dead or unconscious, and she didn't care which. She had become her father, and now the weak were in front of her.
Aurelius de Finita, Imperial Ascendant, looked to his left. His men lay there, broken and unmoving. "Alexandria," he whispered, "you've got to stop this."
On unsteady feet, the young woman walked toward her father, the man who had been capable of breaking her a month ago. He turned his head to look at her, and to his credit, he wasn't shaking. He also wasn't stupid, and he made no movements.
"Is this what you wanted, Father?" Alex asked. "You wanted your genes to always be in power." She stopped a half-meter from him. "Do your genes feel powerful now? Tell me."
His jaw flexed as anger rolled through him. Perhaps for the first time in his life, the Ascendant stood in front of something he couldn't control or bend to his will.
"I'm going to go find my brother now. I wonder if he's happy with this little experiment? I wonder if I'll know which one is him and which is the clone. Can you tell?"
He stared at her.
For a second, she thought that would be it. His arrogance ruled the day, though, as it had his entire life. His hand was fast, and it moved to strike her in the throat, but her mind was faster than either of their bodies could ever be. She blinked, and her father rose into the air and smashed into the ceiling. Lights shattered and glass fell to the ground, though none of it touched Alex.
She glared at him, her red eyes glowing in the new darkness. "The first Aurelius knew when he'd reached his limits, Father. You would have been wise to understand the same."
Alex walked forward and flung her father to the floor with as much force as she could muster.
She left the room then, silence the only sound behind her.
Chapter Eighteen
“These humans do not seem to care much about living.”
—Internal thought of Jeeves
The AllMother's eyes flashed open and she gasped for breath. All these years later, she didn't know where she was. She blinked, then in her peripheral vision, she watched the gigante lean forward. He was sitting next to her now, having switched places. His eyes were wide, and he stared at the AllMother with the closest thing to concern he could show.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice a raspy whisper everyone in the transport could easily hear.
The AllMother remembered now, as she had when she’d woken up in that capsule. She'd been dreaming, or maybe remembering was closer. "I'm okay. Thanks." She patted the giant's massive leg.
The AllMother ignored the creature's surprise and leaned her head back against the seat. She hadn't thought about those first actions for a long time, centuries, maybe. For a very brief time, she'd known how her father had done what he'd done. She could have acted the same, conquering an entire planet only to bend it to her will while saying she was doing it for the people.
She closed her eyes again, though she doubted she'd fall asleep. She was still tired, but just now, she wasn't interested in remembering the horrible things she'd done.
Alistair stared at his surroundings, taking them in very carefully. He had his SkinSuit on and the hood over his head, the eye mechanisms allowing him to see kilometers in front of him. Obs was at his feet, and Relm and Faitrin were on his right. Caesar and Servia stood on his left, and the AllMother was behind them.
The fortress was about ten kilometers away. Caesar had been right about the little card he held. The transport wasn't detected by anyone
, and Caesar hadn't been able to explain why it hadn’t been, only that they were safe. Faitrin ended up explaining that the card allowed stealth transports to pick up assets. Technology shielded them from eyes searching for their whereabouts.
It didn't matter now.
Caesar said this is where the gigantes were—and Thoreaux.
Once again, Alistair found himself wondering what in the hell they were to do. “Fortress” might not be the right term. It'd taken them almost thirty-six hours to get to this place, and the planet's star was starting to recede beneath the horizon. That might make this a little easier, but not much. What Alistair was looking at surely had the technology to see in darkness.
The gangsters on this planet were like a government, and Alistair now stared at the capital. The actual governments on this planet had to be insanely powerful to hold these criminals at bay.
A tall tower stood in front of the building. Nothing but wilderness lay in all directions: no homes, no businesses, only that massive building. "What is that?" Alistair asked as he pointed at the tower.
"Laser defense system," Caesar answered.
"Can it shoot the transport?"
"Yes. Hiding does not work here," the giant answered calmly.
"That's great," Relm said. "Exactly what I wanted to hear."
"Okay." Alistair looked past the defense tower at the wall that wrapped around the building. Sentries walked the top of it. "Are those androids or people or gigantes?"
"Mixture," Caesar responded.
Alistair also saw turrets on top of the wall, most likely bearing plasma guns or lasers. Who knew what it would look like when they got in, but he couldn't concern himself with that at the moment. "Caesar, where are your kind kept? Do they roam free, or are they in a specific spot?"
"We are only called for certain tasks. Otherwise, we are kept beneath the ground."
