The Fractured Empire (The World Apart Series Book 1)

by Robin D. Mahle

  Well, there was really only one company on Central these days that fell in that last category, but Redshaw was an impossibly large giant to fell. The MOHP believed it was part of a conglomeration headed by an underground company called Spectrum, but it sounded a little far-fetched to me. In any case, taking them down had to be done in stages. Tonight was supposed to have been a small move in the right direction.

  The lift came to a stop and dumped us out into a large circular room. It was damp and musty, the heat no less pervasive than on the main floor. There were no visible hallways, only a series of doors with placards spread evenly across the curved, plain white wall. Music from one of the barracks, likely ours, was beating into the hallway.

  "We'll talk more when I get back. Go wait for me in the barracks," Xavier ordered.

  I gave an overly exaggerated salute to my brother which was met with an equally-exaggerated eye roll. Without another word, Xavier headed toward the closest door to the left while I made my way to the door labeled "Barracks 3".

  The room was small and lifeless, with a set of bunk beds against the wall and a single bed tucked into the corner. A battered radio with some questionable attachments sat on the only table next to a flickering lamp. The radio was playing some new jazzy tune cranked up so loud it made my ears want to bleed. My younger brother Gunther was perched on the top bunk with his legs crossed. A messy pile of tools and what seemed to be various pieces of useless junk sat in his lap, his gloved hands tinkering away.

  He lit up once he noticed me. "Brother!" He shouted a little too loudly, removing a set of dark leather goggles outfitted with a magnified lens. His light red hair and fair skin were covered in soot, save for the round spots left clean by the goggles. Gunther was deaf, but you would never know it — he was so hyperaware of his surroundings that he never missed a beat.

  When he got into his projects, however, he was just like any other spacey genius. Especially with the music blaring loud enough for him to feel its vibrations, thereby masking the slight tremor from the shutting door.

  "When did you get back?" he asked eagerly, pushing his pile to the side.

  "Do you mind?" I put a finger in one of my ears while pointing another at the obnoxiously loud speaker.

  Gunther got the hint and nodded apologetically as he fished out a small switch from his gizmos and turned the radio off.

  "Thanks," I said as I rubbed at my still-ringing ears.

  "Sorry, brother," Gunther said with a smile. "I was in the zone and didn't notice you come in." He gestured to the items he was working with.

  I waved the apology away as unnecessary.

  "What are you working on?" I asked, taking off my jacket and hoping Gunther wouldn't notice my pain. Out of habit, I added a few of the small hand gestures we had come up with as children to help convey my meaning.

  "You know the rules. No questions until it’s done," he said, placing a blanket over the half-formed project that would likely save my life one day.

  I had long since learned not to doubt Gunther's brilliance.

  "Now then," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Do you want to tell me what happened to your shoulder?"

  I couldn't help but smile. I should have known better than to think I could hide this injury from him. I hoped he thought that was the sole cause for the pinching around my eyes.

  "Long story… one that ends with me jumping out of a skyscraper and landing on a news zeppelin, which, by the way, is nowhere near as soft as it looks." I grabbed at the aching joint.

  Gunther shook his head in disbelief. "Start from the beginning and spare no detail."

  A short time later, while we were sharing another laugh at my expense, the door creaked open and Xavier entered the room, his face tight.

  "Xavier!" Gunther shouted. The sheer volumes of caffeine Gunther inhaled made him markedly more excitable than Xav or me, and he was just naturally happier. "Clark told me what happened. How'd you manage to get that blimp to fly so close to the building, though?" He beamed at Xavier, who looked smugly at me.

  "I radioed in pretending to be from The Director's crew. They weren't about to question him, and they sure as hell weren't going to refuse, no matter how odd it seemed."

  I rolled my eyes. Xavier sprawled on his single bed and pulled out a pulp comic, dismissing me.

  “I’ve got to hit the training room,” I told them.

  “Your shoulder—” Gunther began.

  I waved him off. “It’ll be fine. I’ve still got one good arm.”

  I walked out of the room and nearly collided with Jayce, who had apparently been waiting for me outside my door like a lovesick suitor. His father, Commander Aegis, was a surprisingly fair and even-tempered man.

  Jayce, on the other hand, was the biggest jerk in this place. He had also volunteered for the Redshaw job, but Xav and I outperformed him by a long shot. His body was taut with anger. Just what I needed.

  "Sorry, but my dance card's all full tonight," I told him. I doubted it was the first time he had heard it. With his lank, mousy hair and plain features, Jayce was no catch even if you could get past his personality.

  "You think you're so clever, Clark. I heard you nearly botched the mission. My mission. You're going to get yours one day, and I can't wait to be the one who sees it through."

  "You'll be waiting a long time, Jayce. You'd have to actually be better than me for that to happen."

  "Who says I'm not?" he demanded.

  I laughed in his face. "Your father, when he gives me all your missions." I turned to go.

  "You'd be surprised what I can do, what I have already done," he said.

  I didn't bother to respond. He had always been dramatic. I just kept on walking toward the training facilities. Jayce could spend all his time stewing in jealousy, gossiping and stirring up trouble, while I spent mine in the training room.

  That was why he would never be better than me.

  The Heiress

  The frigid air and full-bellied laughter reddened Amelie's cheeks while we constructed a lopsided snowman in front of our modest house on Alpina Island. The snow had seeped through my leather gloves, nearly numbing my fingers, but I was having too much fun to care. My mother watched us from inside, a smile gracing her symmetrical features. My father's shiny, new, black automobile drove up, and Amelie and I abandoned our project to swarm him as he exited the driver's seat.

  He scooped us into his arms, laughing, and kissed us each on the cheek.

  "I was coming home to my little ladies only to have these two ragamuffins attack me?" he said with mock disappointment. This was our daily ritual, Amelie and I always too adventurous to fall entirely into the role of proper young ladies. While Papa may have joked, he always said he was proud that we were so capable.

  The three of us strode arm in arm into the house where my mother met him with a kiss.

  "How's my beautiful wife?"

  "Also brilliant and charming, thank you for asking," my mother shot back, granting him another kiss.

  They were always like this. Ami and I pretended to gag, but secretly, I loved their adoration for one another. My sister and I went to clean up for dinner, but we could hear their conversation drifting through the house. My father had been offered a position as the Director of Redshaw Corporation, an up-and-coming company based in Central. His business acumen had caught the eye of someone powerful, and he sounded excited about the prospect.

  My mother was more hesitant.

  "You could do that from here?" she asked.

  "Well, no, Darling. We'd have to move to Central. But you'll love it there. There will be so much more opportunity for the girls."

  They had discussed a little more, stopping when we came into the room. Over the next few days, we could hear my mother coming up with every reason we had to stay, and my Papa always rebutting them with reasons to go. He was convinced, and nothing would change his mind. In only a matter of months, we boarded a transport ship and watched everything we knew grow smaller behind us unti
l we could see nothing but the teal-colored waves. I wasn't worried, though. With Amelie at my side and my parents supporting us, we could face whatever life threw at us.

  Chapter Five

  Adelaide

  The ride from Fourth Sector to Second had never felt longer. Central Island was like a four-tiered cake with a palace for a topper. On the north side of the Fourth Sector were seaside resorts, but the south was a seedier part of town. Third Sector was primarily suburbs and quaint shops. Second Sector was a bustling downtown area with towering buildings and skyrise complexes. The wealthiest of society made their homes there, and that’s where my father and I lived.

  A river fed from the giant lake near the palace and cascaded down the east and west sides of the island. The sea was sucked up through natural tunnels in the earth to complete the endless cycle. The car ride got markedly bumpier as we crossed the East Third Sector Bridge. We continued on a steep incline to Second Sector.

  Slow minutes crawled by while horns blared from half the cars on the street in the late downtown traffic. I was unsurprised when we turned right toward Redshaw Tower instead of left toward Redshaw Hotel. When the echoing silence in the halls of the expansive manor had become too much, we had relocated to the penthouse suites of the hotel. Mostly, it had just allowed my father to spend even more time at his office, where he undoubtedly was now.

  Sure enough, we pulled under the awning of the tallest tower in Ceithre. A glowering guard let us in, Locke sticking closer to my heels than he normally did. I narrowed my eyes at the doorman, and his expression cleared.

  Odd. I dismissed his behavior and moved on.

  The lobby was blessedly cooler than the night air. I took a moment to enjoy it before heading to the airless elevator. There was no lift operator at this time of night, so Locke cranked the lever into position for the correct floor. The highest one, of course.

  My bodyguard and I stepped out of the oppressive space into an airy hallway. The first thing I noticed was my father’s heavy oak door hanging askew on its hinges. My body tensed up. I had assumed I was being called in regard to my actions tonight, but now Locke’s proximity made more sense.

  The second thing I noticed was the three men in black, leather suits standing in my father’s office. Their backs were to me, blocking my view of The Director. One was speaking in low tones, his voice vaguely threatening.

  I could only catch every other word, but I thought I heard the word “spectrum” and something about “has to be done.” I inched closer to better discern what they were saying, but Locke held a hand out to stop me. I looked at him, and he shook his head. My eyebrows raised, and I prepared to argue when the men abruptly turned around.

  "We'll be in touch, Sebastian," one of the men said over his shoulder. The way he said it sounded less like a follow-up and more like a warning. Then he turned and gave me a wink that made my skin crawl. I lifted my chin, and he let out a low laugh before all three men entered the lift. No time to think about that, though. It was time for my meeting with The Director.

  "Locke, kindly come in as well," my father ordered.

  We both entered the spacious room. Locke removed his helmet. His dark bald head shone in the glow of the gilded light fixtures. I had asked him once if he shaved his head because he couldn't grow any hair or so his helmet would be more comfortable. It was the first time I ever heard the stern man laugh.

  I did a double take when I walked inside. Usually, the only thing impressive about my father's office was the view. The rest of it displayed his infinite pragmatism.

  His entire office consisted of a solid oak desk and a comfortable leather chair faced by two less comfortable but equally sturdy chairs. The only adornment was a photo of my family as it once was. He had no awards, trophies, or pictures of himself with important people. Sebastian Kensington did not need such things to convince people he was powerful. It was in everything he did.

  Tonight, the view was marred by the yellow tape that crisscrossed the gaping hole where the window used to be. My jaw dropped.

  Locke’s face didn’t display a trace of surprise as he stood guard in front of the door. I sat down too quickly, my backside connecting solidly with the hard, wooden chair. I stared at Locke for a long moment before turning to face my father. My father was tall and broad-shouldered, with short, salt-and-pepper hair. His strong jaw was clenched in anger as he, too, stared out the window. There was a glass of what I presumed to be scotch in front of him.

  This apple hadn't fallen far from the tree.

  I waited for him to acknowledge my presence. It was a familiar feeling. My corset chafed against the dampness of sweat and rain, and my temples throbbed with the lingering effects of the alcohol. I wanted to know what the hell was going on, but mostly I just wanted to go home.

  "Where was she?" Of course, he addressed Locke before me.

  "A dance establishment in the Fourth District." That was a gentle way of putting it. I could have been on the resort side, the way he phrased it.

  My father narrowed his eyes. "Which side?"

  "The south side, Sir." Was I imagining the slightly sarcastic tone of the title? I rarely saw Locke and my father interact directly.

  "You didn’t stop her?" my father demanded.

  "My orders were to stick to her side, not to detain her." Locke might have been the only person in the Empire outside the monarchy who could get away with speaking to my father in this manner. Years of protecting Sebastian Kensington's only remaining family member had earned him that right. So, although my father's face darkened, he didn't argue. Besides, nothing Locke had said was untrue.

  "Very well. You are dismissed," my father said.

  Locke went to the hallway to give us the illusion of privacy.

  “What happened? And who were those men?” I asked.

  "Just the owners of Redshaw. See, Adelaide, even I answer to other people. Your behavior tonight was unacceptable. You offended one of the few families whose status rivals ours, as well as the monarchy itself. And most importantly, you put yourself in unnecessary danger."

  "Apparently not, if Locke was there the entire time. What happened to the window?" I asked again. I didn’t know why I was bothering to argue about the danger when I just wanted this conversation to be over.

  "I contacted Locke when I learned of a break-in at my office. The man beat up my guards and allegedly leapt from my office window. That is the kind of person who is after our family. Locke is the best, but he is not unbeatable."

  My blood ran cold in spite of myself. Who could take out several Red Sons by himself? I must have voiced the question aloud.

  "Only two Red Sons. The others were Peace Keepers. I thought to give most of my men the night off in light of the evening."

  "How kind of you to allow them that luxury. If only you’d been so hospitable to your own daughter. Truly, your magnanimity knows no bounds." The words were out before I could stop them. I reminded myself I wanted to shorten this conversation, not prolong it.

  "I tire of this attitude. Your appearance was important, as I have already explained, and your early departure reflected very badly upon us."

  "That would be your concern.” I could scarcely see straight through my mounting fury. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but a small piece of me still wanted to believe he was better than that.

  "Adelaide, I lack the luxury of drowning in my sorrows." There was an unspoken 'unlike you' somewhere in there. "I told you what this evening represented, and you made a mockery of it. As such, I cannot allow you to further flout the monarchy by going against custom." He paused as if waiting for me to put the pieces together.

  Dread pooled like lead in my stomach, but I hadn't quite made the connection. He went on.

  "You know your trip to the Ever Falls has raised eyebrows. The Empress went so far as to call it improper. You are legally an adult and may do as you please, but I rescind my offer to fund your trip to the Ever Falls as you have not lived up to your end of our agreement." He s
ounded every inch the businessman. There was no allowance for emotion. That he would take away the last piece of my sister on the anniversary of her death was proof of that.

  I blurted out the first thing that came to mind, the thing I had never brought up. "Why did you bring us here, to Central? I know Mama begged you not to."

  He furrowed his brow. "I wanted a better life for us."

  "Well, that worked out well, didn't it?" I got up to leave, ignoring the flicker of pain in his walnut eyes. If he had no room for my feelings, then I hardly saw need to accommodate his. "And here you are again, controlling what family you have left for reasons only you understand, making me miserable in the process. I guess at least I lived long enough to resent you."

  I walked out the door. My knees nearly sagged with the weight of the day, but I held my head high and propelled myself forward. Only minutes away, there was a fluffy fat cat and a soft bed waiting for me.

  One foot in front of the other, I reminded myself.

  Locke was waiting in the hallway with his helmet back on.

  “Come, Ms. Kensington. I’ll take you home.” The gentleness in his voice was evident even through his mouthpiece. I nodded past the lump in my throat, keeping my expression neutral as we headed for the hotel.

  Nightmares plagued my rest. In some, I watched my mother and sister crushed to death under the rubble. In others, I relived the funeral over and over, only this time, I threw myself out to sea with their ceremonial rafts like I had wanted to. Those were still preferable to the dreams where I forgot, where I woke up thinking the explosion had been a dream, expecting my sister to be waiting down the hall of a house we no longer occupied. Last night, I had been treated to all three kinds.

  Before I woke up, I always saw the eerie flash of blue light that had filled my window that day. There had been no noise, at least, not until the screaming. Not that I had been close enough to hear that, but people talk. Seasoned war veterans and scientists alike were baffled by the silent explosion that left a quarter of our largest sector devastated. A small part of Third Sector had been hit as well, but it had been mostly mountainside and trees.