Cassius grinned as well. “We’ll make sure they meant something. It’s time the Tribune sees they cannot decide humanity’s future alone.”
“I’ll begin preparations immediately.” Zaimur reached out to cut off the transmission, then froze. He was staring at the screen, but it appeared like he was looking through it, gazing into the future. “We’ll never be forgotten if we pull this off.”
More than a holographic bust in a hallway, Cassius reminded himself.
“You’re right,” he said. “We’d best pull it off, then.”
Before he could receive a response, Cassius switched off the transmission himself. His heart had started to race halfway through their conversation, and he didn’t want to say anything by mistake while he wasn’t fully composed. Being so near to returning to Earth with force after nearly a decade had him feeling especially on edge.
He strolled back off the White Hand, passing his androids that were hard at work on repairs. Cassius let them continue and made his way toward the solar-ark. The damaged android stood outside. It didn’t take part in the repairs because it remained focused only on the ark, as Cassius had requested.
“Creator, the test subject is prepped for viewing,” the android said.
Cassius didn’t answer. He stopped at the ark’s entrance and turned so that each of the five retrofitted Tribunal freighters was visible. Each cargo bay held a bomb with the power to split open a large asteroid from within, through hundreds of meters of solid rock. The entire hangar was painted in a blue aura because of them.
Thank you for being so willing to clear the way, Zaimur.
Cassius savored a long breath and then turned to the android and said, “Show me.”
“Yes, Creator.”
It led him into the ship and up to the cryo-chambers. A few along the bottom rung were filled with his Tribunal captives, the glass so frosted that he could only distinguish their silhouettes. The lid of one chamber on the end was popped open, and the bearded, emaciated man whom Cassius had had first seen loaded in for human testing remained inside.
He shivered intensely, the myriad tubes affixed to his skin rattling against the chamber’s interior. A small monitor inside displayed the status of his bodily functions.
“The subject remains alive,” the android stated. “His vitals remain limited; however, systems show rapid improvement. The chambers required minimal reconfiguration. Fragments of their original programming have been recovered with above ninety-nine percent efficacy.”
“Of course. The Ancients had incredible foresight before the boundaries of the Circuit tainted them.” Cassius leaned forward and ran the back of his fingers across the test subject’s bony cheek. His flesh was as cold as ice.
“Thank you, for your strength,” Cassius whispered.
The man rolled his head and murmured something. Drugs being pumped intravenously to help with the reanimation had him essentially anesthetized. Even his eyes were closed.
Cassius took a step back and pulled out his holorecorder. Still no response from Sage. Before he left for Earth, he had a message for her, and he had no plans of leaving the device behind for her to find one day. Even Sage wasn’t going to keep him from bringing along his first son.
If she’s alive—she is alive, he corrected himself. And she’ll stop at nothing to find this place after what I’m about to do. She’ll need an explanation when she does.
He traversed the halls of the ark one last time, the android following closely behind. ADIM would have been asking questions, inquiring as to how he was feeling. This android stayed as silent as the ark’s halls.
Centuries of history passed with every step. From conduits in the wall that’d been repaired time and time again by generations of Keepers, to air vents set by the ancients themselves, to bloodstains ingrained too deep in metal by his androids to be scrubbed out completely.
There was a time Cassius would’ve done anything to get his hands on a solar-ark so that he could escape the Circuit and all the anguish it reminded him of. But he’d come to learn over his many years that escape was never in the cards for him.
“Begin prepping the Amerigo’s communications relay to broadcast a short-range message encrypted with the code Caleb Vale,” Cassius said as he ascended the grand stairs onto the ship’s command deck.
“Creator, this unit is obligated to warn you that such a transmission could easily be traced to this location by Tribunal scouts,” the android said. “It was a prime directive for the location of Ennomos to remain concealed.”
“It’s too late for them to change anything now. Do as I say.”
“Yes, Creator.”
The android typed away at one of the command consoles. Cassius positioned himself in front of it and slowly removed his enviro-suit’s helmet. He wanted his words to be heard clearly, and he was protected enough from the gravitum bombs within the ark.
“Ready for transmission,” the android said.
It stood straight, and a holoscreen bloomed above the console to initiate recording. In it, Cassius could see himself clearly. His eyelids were wrinkled and sagging. His hair was messy, and every bit of its former color had given way to gray over the last months without him noticing.
He took a deep breath and then began. “Sage,” he said. He spread his arms wide and looked around the command deck. “All of this is for you…”
18
Chapter Eighteen—Talon
“Alright, Elisha, are you ready to see the command deck?” Talon asked. It’d been a few days since they’d broken her out of the Ascendant, and her face was getting fuller. She wasn’t back to her lively, exuberant self, but she’d stopped looking at Talon like a stranger and started hugging him like she meant it. She’d stopped walking as if stepping on shards of glass.
“Ready.” She nodded firmly.
Talon held her hand and led her down the corridor of the Monarch. Ships had always been one of her favorite things, and he hoped being imprisoned on one wouldn’t change that. The passageways didn’t impress her, but as the blinking lights and dated monitors of the command deck filled her vision, her eyes went wide.
She picked up her pace, so much so that she wound up being the one pulling Talon. Sweeping into the room, she darted left and right as fast as her tiny legs could carry her. Talon sighed in relief. Try as they may, the Tribune hadn’t ruined her after all.
She paused when her gaze reached the viewport. The grandest asteroid in all the Circuit floated beyond it. Her home.
“Is that Ceres?” she asked.
“Yep,” Kitt answered before Talon could. He sat at the controls beside Larana, completely in charge of navigation. “You wanna see how this all works?”
Elisha gawked up at Talon with her big pretty eyes, and he couldn’t stomach saying no.
“Go ahead,” he said.
Kitt squished over to let her get closer and started introducing her to all the controls. Tech jargon that Talon barely understood, which meant Elisha certainly didn’t, but her brain was like a sponge. Soon, she’d know more than he would. Probably would be a pilot one day. Of course, he’d be dead long before all of that, but as he watched her learning, he couldn’t help but imagine what she might look like all grown up.
“It’s not just Ceres.” Larana rotated in her seat to say to just Talon, tearing him from his imagination.
Talon blinked his wet eyes away, then moved behind the captain and squinted through the viewport. Hovering nearby Ceres was the ringed conduit station through which the solar-arks served all of Ceresian space. Between it and the asteroid, the entirety of the Ceresian fleet docked. Frigates, fighters, carriers, and transports—everything imaginable. None of them matched in appearance like a Tribunal fleet, but Talon recognized the Hound’s Paw in the center.
“By all the Ancients there ever were,” he said, a chill running up his spine. “That’s all of it. Every ship we’ve got still standing that’s worth a damn.”
“One last stand?” Larana asked.
“I don’t think so. That’s not a defensive formation. Looks like they’re about to travel.” He bit his lip. “What is Cassius planning?”
“Transmission coming through,” Kitt said, swinging in his chair. He showed Elisha what commands to hit to play it and let her press them. A smile spread across her face, so contagious even Talon couldn’t control his cheek muscles. The expression felt odd in the face of such potential ruin.
“Unidentified vessel, this is the Hound’s Paw,” said an officer on the other end. “State your reason for approaching Ceres or you will be shot down.”
“Unidentified? Still?” Talon raised an eyebrow at Larana.
She shrugged. “We’re good at what we do.” She went to open comms, but Talon placed his hand over hers.
“Let me talk to them?”
She nodded and leaned back so Talon could get closer to the command console. He cleared his throat and forced his smile away. “This is Talon Rayne on the Vergent ship Monarch,” he announced. “We’ve had business on Ceres before. I must speak with Zaimur Morastus. It’s urgent.”
“Mr. Morastus is occupied,” the officer responded.
“Tell him it concerns a mutual friend of ours.”
The line went silent for nearly a minute before an answer came through. Talon was beginning to worry that he’d been forgotten. Shrugged off, just like with the freighter.
“He’ll see you. Proceed to the private hangar bay of the Hound’s Paw immediately. We’re preparing for departure.”
“For where?”
“That is classified.”
“Fine. We’re on our way.”
“That was easy,” Larana said.
Talon shrugged. “I have a history with the family. Though I’m not sure if it’ll get him to consider listening to me or shoot me in the back. Zaimur’s nothing like his father was.”
“You sure you want to do this?”
Talon stared at Elisha. The Monarch turned subtly as it altered course for the massive Hound’s Paw. Kitt was showing her how he did it. He even let her strike a few commands. The rest of the universe might as well not even have existed. Only Talon could ensure that it remained safe from Cassius Vale.
“I have to do this,” he said. “I’ll go in alone, and if anything happens, you get out of there as quick as you can even if you have to bust through the hangar. I hate to admit it, but the Monarch is faster than any Ceresian ship.”
Larana put on a wry grin and slapped one of the old consoles, the screen flickering. “Never thought I’d hear that from an Insider. I’ll keep her engines runnin’. Take us in smoothly, Kitt. Don’t want to cause any suspicion.”
“Yes, Cap’n.” Kitt took the controls back from Elisha.
“Thank you, Captain,” Talon whispered.
“Thank me when you’re done,” she replied.
Elisha’s head suddenly whipped around. Tears were forming in the corners of her eyes. She hopped down, ran over to Talon, and wrapped her tiny arms around his leg.
“Where are you going?” she sniveled.
Talon fell to one knee and embraced her, hands running up over the back of her head. “I’ll only been gone for a little while,” he said softly, voice cracking. “Don’t worry, Elisha. I’m just going to have a talk with Mr. Morastus.”
“Do you promise?”
Talon was terrified to make another promise to her. “Of course,” he said anyway. “Just stay up here with Kitt and learn something so that one day you can pilot one of these things for yourself.”
He rustled her hair and planted a kiss on her forehead, holding it there for longer than he cared to consider. Then she ran back over to Kitt, who started back up explaining more controls to her. Whether he noticed her agitation and tried to soothe her or not, he wasn’t sure. But Elisha was right where she ought to be, behind the controls of a ship.
Talon had to climb over the leg of the stolen combat mech upon reaching the cargo bay. When he crossed to the other side, Sage was waiting there, leaning against the wall. She stared at her artificial arm, grimacing as she bent it at the elbow joint over and over again. Kitt’s repairs had returned her ability to operate it, but it didn’t move anywhere near as smoothly as it had. Sounded more like Tarsis’ suit than anything.
Talon’s breath caught as that thought passed his mind, but he fought through it and moved closer to her, leaning near the exit ramp’s controls.
“How’s it holding up?” he asked.
Sage glanced up as if only then noticing him. “It moves at least.” She let the arm extend all the way down to her hip and then tried to bend it again.
“They can’t all be Cassius Vale, I suppose.”
“No.” She let out a single, sympathetic chuckle. “Zaimur’s going to see you?”
“That’s what I’m told,” Talon said.
Sage let her arm fall straight and stopped trying to force the movement. Her lips parted to say something, then closed, and then, finally, she spoke. “I never would have guessed I’d wind up on a ship full of Vergents heading for a meeting with the Morastus leader.”
“At least we have that in common.”
They exchanged a pair of scant smiles.
“Do you really think he’ll listen?” Sage asked.
“You heard us in the command deck?” Talon said.
Sage nodded.
“Zaimur, probably not,” Talon admitted. “His father would’ve. Either way, I have to try.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“No. These are my people, Sage. I’ll handle this alone.”
“Alone? How do you know Zaimur hasn’t been working with Cassius since before he sent us after that freighter? I’ve looked into that man’s eyes and I don’t trust him. A Ceresian going through all this trouble to help Cassius Vale doesn’t make any sense. Think about Elisha.”
“I am.”
“You won’t even know I’m there,” Sage insisted. “I’ll be like a shadow.”
“Never again. You’ve done enough already.” Talon swallowed hard. “I never thought I’d be able to look at you again, but I saw on the Ascendant why Cassius risked everything just to help you. You aren’t a shadow, Sage Volus. Not anymore. Whatever horrors you’ve committed in the name of the Tribune, leave them in the past.”
“Talon…” She stepped forward, grasping his hand with her human one. It gave him chills before he pulled away.
“I’ve done things that I can never forget. Horrible things. Broken men’s jaws just because they owed a bit. Shattered people’s dreams just because they slighted the wrong man. But after all of it, after all of this, there is nowhere I would rather be than on this ship. To get my daughter home, you allowed yourself to be abandoned by your people. Give me the chance to try to save my own.”
Tears rolled down Sage’s cheeks. They stared into each other’s eyes, quiet. She really was stunning. And in another life, Talon wondered if there could have been something here. A life where he didn’t get sick. A life where she didn’t get his friends killed or crippled.
“How do you do it?” he asked.
She turned away, wiping her eyes with her shoulder like she didn’t want him to see her doing it. Then she answered, “Do what?”
“Pretend to be something you’re not. It seemed so easy for you. So natural.”
“I…” She bit her lip. Rolled her shoulders. “It was easy,” she said matter-of-factly. “Until it wasn’t.”
“Very specific.”
She scowled. “It’s the truth.”
“I know. Sorry. I was just playing around.”
“That’s exactly it. Right there. Around Mars, the only Ceresians I ever met were ones who wanted us dead. Terrorists and merchant scammers. Bad people. Growing up after the war, all we learned about was how your people were heathens, greedy monsters, bent on replacing people with bots.”
Talon chuckled softly. “I mean, there’s some truth to that.”
“There is, and there isn’t. But spending ti
me on Ceres with you and the others, do you want to know what I saw?”
Talon nodded her along.
“I saw friends, families, children and…” She leveled her gaze upon him. “Fathers. People doing their best to survive. And yes, there are some greedy monsters like Zaimur Morastus, but I see now that there are bad people in every corner of the Circuit. Even where I’m from.”
Talon wasn’t sure what to say. He’d had no intention of opening the eyes of a Tribunal. But he had no intention of ever talking with Sage again either. Of ever feeling like deep in his heart, he wanted to forgive her.
“Are you sure it wasn’t just my dashing good looks?” he asked, sidling closer to her.
This time, she chuckled. It felt genuine, the way her cheeks lifted, and the sound emanated from deep in her gut. It was a nice sound. A pleasant one. And forever, Talon could be remembered as the man who could make an executor laugh.
“It was many things,” she said finally. “But I really am sorry. For everything.”
Talon got closer until their arms brushed together. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking. He couldn’t help it. Like she had a magnetic force to her.
“I know, I can tell,” he said. “And so am I. I should never have gone after that freighter. Never got in trouble with Zaimur. I should have been at home with my daughter, spending every last second with her.”
“‘Life is a series of mistakes,’” Sage said softly.
“Who said that?”
“Caleb Vale. A long time ago, after his dad missed his goodbye party before he set off for Earth. I wasn’t sure how he could forgive him so fast, but he did.”
“What’s more universal than crappy parents?” Talon asked. He hoped his joking tone came across well. It seemed to. Sage turned her face closer; their noses were centimeters apart. He could feel her warm breath on his face.
“I tried my best not to be,” Talon said. “But you brought me my daughter back.” Before he knew what he was doing, he found his fingers entwined in her hair, stroking it back over her ear. “I forgive you, Sage Volus. I—”
The Circuit: The Complete Saga Page 66
