The Circuit: The Complete Saga

by Bruno, Rhett C.

  “And as they terminate each other, we shall show them the way,” ADIM said.

  “Precisely,” Cassius said.

  ADIM noted the pleased tone of his voice and flagged that statement for future use. Then he continued to rotate the image of Kalliope, studying its outer defenses, which were decidedly limited.

  “The mine remains operational,” ADIM said. “There will be humans present. Shall this unit attempt to transport any survivors to safety first?”

  This time Cassius remained silent for a brief time. An audible breath transmitted from his end before he issued his orders. “It isn’t necessary. The Shadow Chariot’s cockpit could hardly fit more than one small person alongside you. The attack should appear to be a flagrant assault by the Tribune on a profitable but unimportant Ceresian colony. Like they’re trying to send a message in retaliation for the freighter raids.” Another pause. Another deep breath. “Let us hope that our new weapon will bring any miners there to a swift, painless end,” he added.

  “Yes, Creator,” ADIM said. He rotated Kalliope one last time for final analysis before deactivating the map. He had everything he needed to proceed.

  32

  Chapter Thirty-Two—Talon

  An armed escort led by a man Talon assumed to be a Tribunal Hand guided him, Agatha, and Vellish through the ravaged cargo bay of the freighter. The flames had been extinguished, leaving behind a mess of ruptured circuits and blackened slag.

  They exited into a hangar big enough to fit at least ten more freighters. Smaller fighters were docked throughout along with hundreds of engineers and pilots working diligently. The floors and walls were relentlessly smooth and shiny, patterned with softly glowing rifts.

  A New Earth cruiser, Talon marveled. He tried not to be too obvious as he gawked around the hangar, but there were few Ceresians who’d seen the inside of one of these and lived to tell the tale. Not that he imagined he’d survive…

  He glanced over at Agatha to see if she realized where they were. She returned a panicked nod.

  The enormous vessel could give the solar-arks a run for their money in size. There were apparently only four of them in existence, a flagship for each member of the Tribunal Council. Unrivaled in both firepower and defensive capabilities, they had been completed toward the end of the Earth Reclaimer War, or rather, they ended the war.

  Moving into the cruiser’s immense trapezoidal corridors, the flat portion of the ceiling was fitted with a strip of cool light that accentuated the surreal feeling seizing Talon’s entire being. Everything was burnished and sleek. The walls were like the inside of the hangar, while the floors had a white, almost pearlescent luster. Quite a contrast from the unsightly Tribunal freighter with all its exposed circuitry.

  “Much nicer than the hell you come from, huh?” the Tribunal Hand scoffed. “Up this way.” He tugged Vellish into a lift branching off the corridor.

  Talon realized he’d been ogling the cruiser much like his daughter when she saw any ship. It was indeed spectacular, but he didn’t want his enemies knowing he thought that. So he dropped his gaze, swallowed back a witty response for the Hand, and followed them onto the lift.

  Talon had a feeling he knew what awaited them at the top of the unexpectedly long ride. How big is this thing?

  His pulse raced uncontrollably. He’d known he was going to die for a while now, but as the moment neared, he knew for sure he wasn’t ready. He tried to picture Elisha’s face, but it only filled him with anger. This can’t be it.

  He peeked to his left and right.

  Seven soldiers, he counted. It wasn’t an impossible task, even with the effects of Zaimur’s stim pack completely drained from his systems. If he smashed the ones holding his wrists against the wall first, that evened the odds. Breaking free of his bindings was a different story, but Agatha’s arm could help.

  Still, as much as his heart willed him to try, he couldn’t. His life was his own to throw away, but not Agatha’s or Vellish’s. Losing Ulson was already enough to have on his conscience. As the lift came to a gradual halt, he straightened his back and decided that he’d have to face what awaited them with courage.

  The large semicircular door at the top cranked open, and the din of a busy command deck greeted them, though it was unlike any Talon had ever seen. A raised platform of polished black tile ran down the center, reflecting the stars and vastness of space through a gently curving viewport spanning the far half of the oblong room. Down either side were terraces outfitted with almost a hundred workstations dotted with holoscreens and navigation consoles. The viewport itself was trellised with a deep steel structure that bowed perfectly with the transparisteel.

  Tribunal honor guards were arrayed down the center aisle, each of their ornate chest plates stamped with the emblem of the Tribune. Green capes draped over their left shoulders. Their gold-trimmed pulse-rifles were as shiny as everything else on the cruiser.

  Down at the end of the platform was a tall seat, the back rising into a sculpture of five offset plates of metal that could almost be said to resemble the open palm of a hand. What could only be a Tribune sat in it, the folds of his silken cloak tumbling down over his shoulders and most of his arms.

  He wasn’t wearing a crown, but he might as well have been. A spectacularly molded chest plate covered a fitted black tunic to grant him an undeniably regal appearance. This was the grand throne of a ship worthy of a king.

  “The Ascendant is quite a vessel, isn’t she?” the Tribune asked, wearing a rapacious grin. He stood. The moment he did, the entire crew stopped working. Nobody even dared to breathe loudly.

  Talon and the other prisoners were forced to their knees, waiting in silence as the Tribune’s echoing footsteps neared. Vellish was barely conscious, but a soldier behind him was keeping him from collapsing. Agatha hung her head so that her dark hair covered her face.

  The Tribune himself wasn’t as impressive looking once he got close. He was a short man, with a prim beard that perfectly framed his shit-eating grin. His eyes and lips were accentuated by black and gold-tinted makeup, which Talon thought only made him look ridiculous.

  “You may be wondering why I brought you all the way up here,” the Tribune said, folding his hands behind his back and leaning over to address them. “I am Tribune Benjar Vakari, and I trust you appreciate my more than gracious treatment of you heretics so far. It is my hope that you may see what majesty you attempt to defile.” He swept his open palm in a wide arc, gesturing to the spectacular cruiser.

  “It’s a little too pretty for me,” Talon said. Enough was enough. He couldn’t help himself.

  “Don’t address the Tribune!” the Tribunal Hand snarled, kicking him in the gut.

  Talon folded over, trying to grasp his stomach as the wind was knocked out of him, but unable to with his hands bound. He squinted over to see if Agatha was looking, but through the strands of her hair he noticed that her eyes were closed.

  “Now, now, Yavortha. That is no way to treat our guests,” Tribune Vakari scolded. He began to briskly pace back and forth before stopping to look directly at Talon. “What an attempt! I haven’t had the luxury of watching a splinter assault fail for decades. When will you foolish Ceresians learn?”

  Talon straightened his back and wheezed, “Didn’t stop us from taking your other ships.” If they were going to die, he figured he would at least draw the ire of the Tribune. Maybe that would lessen the torture inflicted on the others.

  “Oh, stop. I know your motley crew wasn’t responsible for that.”

  Benjar quickly turned to Agatha and knelt in front of her. She didn’t move. He reached out and lifted her chin with one finger. Every part of her face seemed to be shaking as her eyes opened to face him. “There is no need to hide,” he whispered, running his hand across her cheek.

  Talon’s stomach churned as he watched. He was about to launch himself at the creep and beat in his skull when the Tribune suddenly rose to speak.

  “Thank you for delivering thes
e dissidents to us, my dear Sage,” he said. He nodded to Yavortha. “Remove her cuffs.”

  Sage? Talon thought. The nauseous feeling was quickly replaced by a stinging in his chest. His arms began to wobble, and he felt all the air sucked from his lungs again.

  Yavortha let her loose and she slowly rose. Talon hoped for a moment that she’d use the opportunity to snap the Tribune’s neck with her artificial arm, but she only stood there, silently staring down at her empty palms as if she’d find something in them.

  “Excellent work. I should never have doubted you.” Benjar embraced her, kissing her cheek as if he’d warmed the spot up for his own foul lips. She didn’t move, just continued wearing the forlorn expression that made Talon wonder what he was missing.

  “Now, as a reward I will allow you to finish what you started,” Benjar said. “Yavortha, return Agent Volus’ pistol.”

  Hand Yavortha reached behind his belt and removed Sage’s gun. Talon watched in awe as it was placed in her hands. He could no longer deny it.

  It was her, he thought, fuming. He’d only just met her, but somehow, never in his whole life had he felt so betrayed. The air felt like it was sucked right out of his lungs.

  “Redemption is near,” Benjar said. “It is time we returned their vagrant souls to the unifying spirit.” He closed her fingers around the handle of the pistol and turned her around to face Talon and Vellish. She didn’t look at them, more like through them. And there was no pride in her blank stare as would be expected after springing a successful trap. She looked lost.

  “Do it,” Benjar instructed.

  Sage remained still.

  Benjar gestured to Talon. “Go on. Take the lively one first.”

  “I… I can’t…” Sage whimpered, her voice cracking.

  The Tribune’s face soured. “What?”

  “I can’t… He has… he has the blue death.”

  Talon wished she would’ve simply shot him in the head. Her eyes met his for the shortest moment, and it was more torturous than anything the Tribune could muster. Everything he’d spilled to her was just a way for her to feel less guilty—to keep him alive so that his blood wouldn’t be on her hands.

  His lips parted to curse her, but it was no use. He couldn’t get any words out.

  “Does he now?” Benjar eyed Talon curiously.

  “Yes, I promise.” Sage grasped the Tribune’s arm, finally showing some vim.

  Benjar rubbed the chin beneath his arrogant grin before he flicked her hands off him. “Then perhaps he is of further use to us. The Keepers are always looking for new recruits, and we are so close to showing them the proper path. A noble gesture, Sage.”

  He patted her face, then turned her face toward Vellish. “But an attack on the Tribune must be punished,” he said. “Put the injured one out of his misery. Make this diseased filth watch.”

  Unable to take any more, Talon screamed and sprang at Benjar with all his might. Yavortha’s fist crashed across his jaw and sent him sprawling onto all fours, where he was restrained by other soldiers.

  He stared at Sage as they shoved his head down, but she didn’t look back or move her gun. Benjar placed his hands around her hips like a vise, slowly turning her body. Then he lifted her hand until her gun aimed at Vellish’s forehead. Her hand quaked.

  Benjar regarded Talon with a sinister smile that put all the others to shame. “Has another fallen under your spell, Sage?” he asked. “How precious.” He strode over and seized Talon by the face, forcing him to look straight at Vellish.

  “Kill him,” Benjar ordered.

  “Agatha…” Talon forced out as Benjar squeezed his jaw, even though he knew the name wasn’t real.

  Vellish puffed out his chest and lifted his head toward the barrel of the gun. “It’s okay, Tal,” he said, mustering the energy to speak. “At least I’ll go down like a true Ceresian.” He spat at Sage’s feet. Talon could tell it took all he had to get those words out. “Do it, you traitorous bitch.”

  “Go on,” Benjar urged her. “Remember who you are.”

  “I am a knight in the darkness. A vessel of their wisdom.” She began to mumble something under her breath that sounded as if it were part of a prayer. All the while, she stared just over the crown of Vellish’s head.

  “Agatha, don’t!” Talon shouted, but it was too late.

  The bang of her pistol drowned out his words. Blood splattered across the polished floor, and Vellish toppled over, a gaping hole in the center of his forehead.

  Talon’s blood boiled with rage as his friend’s head rolled to face him, eyes stuck open. But just before he could attempt another charge, a blow to the back of the head knocked him flat onto his face, unconscious.

  33

  Chapter Thirty-Three—Sage

  Sage twirled a fork in her fingers, watching as tiny droplets of water tumbled along the veins of a piece of the greenest lettuce she’d ever seen. Her distorted reflection in the wide handle of the utensil stared back at her, and it almost slipped through her fingers when she looked away.

  Her wavy red hair had returned along with her skin’s healthy glow, but she felt more lost than ever.

  “I dare say that there has never been a woman so stunning in all the Circuit,” Benjar Vakari admired, entering the dining room of his personal quarters aboard the Ascendant.

  Sage looked up. The whole room was enclosed by one extensive holoscreen, displaying a seamless image of what Sage assumed was ancient Earth. Blades of green grass swayed with the wind. Puffy white clouds drifted across a preposterously blue sky. Mountains rose in the distance to cut through them, painted a pale mauve by the looming vapor.

  And the sun… It glimmered like a radiant jewel, casting its light upon all that was visible.

  It was truly a remarkable scene, but at that moment she couldn’t bring herself to imagine anything like it ever existing on the hellish wasteland Earth had become.

  “Come now. Eat,” Benjar implored. “You must be hungry after living amongst those animals.”

  Sage lifted a piece of lettuce to her mouth. She was starving for anything besides pills, but the sick feeling in her stomach made it almost impossible to eat. She managed a small bite and forced it down, and then instantly discovered why lettuce was considered a delicacy.

  “Good, see? I had it brought up especially for you.”

  After the first bite, Sage began to quickly shovel it into her mouth, each piece helping erase the foul taste in her mouth and helping to settle her stomach. She washed it all down with a tall glass of crystalline Tribune-harvested water.

  “We need you to stay strong.” Benjar appeared beside her, staring at the artificial hand resting on her thigh. She froze as he grazed her artificial arm, exposed since all she wore was a tight-fitting boilersuit with no sleeves.

  She pulled away out of reflex. When Benjar tried again, however, she found herself unable to resist.

  “It really is remarkable,” he whispered, pulling the artificial arm closer to analyze all its facets. He was careful to leave his free hand on her thigh and gently squeeze.

  Sage looked up and stared into the light above the table, trying her best to ignore the tingling sensation beginning to seize her body.

  “I never truly took the time to admire his work.” Benjar studied it from every angle, playing with the fingers, testing the wrist’s range of motion. All she could feel were his fingers moving slowly down her inner thigh. The tiny pinch she used to feel in her shoulder whenever she moved the arm had been absent since the explosion on Mars.

  Suddenly, Sage saw Talon’s face in the light. His shattered gaze as the truth about her was revealed.

  She pushed Benjar’s hand away from her thigh. “He’s very talented,” she said coldly, lifting her fork to continue eating.

  “Indeed,” Benjar said, though he was clearly dissatisfied by her rejection.

  He stood, then ambled around to the other end of the long table, where a similar meal had been brought up for him. He
sat, elegantly unfolding a napkin and laying it over his lap before picking up his fork. His flawlessly white teeth tore through a chunk of lettuce, water running over his loudly smacking lips that made it appear like he either wasn’t enjoying the taste or he was ravenously hungry.

  “Onto the next mission, I suppose,” he said, crunching loudly without looking up.

  “What happened to Talon?” Sage asked softly. It took all her courage.

  “Talon?” Benjar began to chortle, spewing tiny bits of his meal onto the table before taking a long sip of water to wash it all down. “Who in the name of Earth is Talon?”

  “The man…” She chose her words carefully. “The Ceresian with the blue death.”

  “Oh yes, him.” Benjar glared up at her. “He was dispatched to become a Keeper of the Circuit, like you requested. Those self-righteous bastards. Better if we could have just killed him here for what he did.” He sighed. “No matter. The Spirit is just, afflicting him so. Why do you care?”

  Sage remained silent. She didn’t even feel her expression shift, but she could see by the way Benjar reacted it did. Of all the Tribunes, he was the most attuned to her feelings. As if he could see right through her.

  “I see. The incomparable Sage Volus as taken with a mercenary from Ceres as he is with her.” Benjar began to laugh so hard that he almost choked on his latest bite. More water helped him clear his throat. “You always have had a peculiar taste in men. What was his name before?”

  “Stop it…” she whispered, her artificial hand squeezing the table so hard that the surface began to cave.

  “Caleb. That’s right. Caleb Va—”

  “Stop it!” she screamed, slapping her plate into the wall with her artificial hand and disturbing the tranquil projection of Earth. Her head fell into her palms, and she sobbed from the uncontrollable storm of thoughts and visions racing through her consciousness. Fire and ash, blood and water. Her head began to pound as if the concussion on Mars had never healed.