The Risen Gods

by Frank Kennedy

  44

  J AMES DIDN’T CARE ABOUT THE CITY he viewed from the platform’s edge. Even as Valentin pointed out the favorite haunts of his formative years and reminisced about his triumphs in the Philadelphia Redux Kwin-sho Dome, James steadied his eyes on the stunning expanse that dwarfed one of the world’s largest cities.

  Three miles due north, SkyTower rose from the Earth in pure white like a dream of the impossible given form. A two-kilometer-wide spike planted in the ground by the gods. Its skin delivered a polished sheen that blazed in full sunlight. Thousands of landing platforms and windows flickered in different colors of the spectrum. Scram and shuttle traffic orbited the great beast like mosquitoes looking for places to land, their green fuel nacelles twinkling.

  James turned his eyes north, dizzied as the space elevator rose into visual infinity. Clouds appeared to pass through the structure, which climbed beyond the stratosphere, punching through blue skies, toward low Earth orbit. James searched his burgeoning knowledge base and envisioned the entire climb. SkyTower’s two-kilometer diameter decreased in stages. Down to 1.4K at two miles high; down to 0.9K at 10 miles; down to 0.4K at 50 miles; down to 0.2K at 120 miles; down to 500 meters at 200 miles; down to 100 meters at 300 miles to its terminus at 620 miles above the surface.

  “And our father hasn’t left SkyTower in twenty years?”

  James’s question caught Valentin off-guard.

  “Um, no. At least not in my lifetime. Perrone says twenty, but I never talked to Father about it.”

  “Was life good there?”

  “Above the clouds? Honestly, you don’t even realize the difference unless you open a portal. I had everything I needed. Or, most everything. A few childhood friends lived in landings near us, but most lived here in the city. Especially my kwin-sho partners. Without them, I never would have joined the Guard.”

  “But he objected to you joining, right?”

  Valentin nodded. During the hours of conversations that built their bond, James heard only a brief reference to the disagreement. Valentin still harbored anger.

  “I thought he’d use his influence to block my admission.”

  “Why didn’t he?”

  “Mother. She hated the idea as well, but she also knew they couldn’t afford to lose me. Now I realize why.” He sighed. “I stopped loving Mother before I was ten. Father at least I respected. But she … you’ll see, James.”

  James swept his eyes from SkyTower to his brother. He remembered his own early disconnect from Marlena Sheridan, the woman he grew up assuming was his mother.

  “Tell me, Valentin.”

  “It’s hard to put into words. I don’t know what Father ever saw in her. James, you’ve met enough Chancellors to realize we are not tender creatures. We keep our hearts locked away. But Mother is something else. All she knows is strategy. Relationships are necessary only to fulfill the design.” He gazed upon the city, his eyes shining with water. “I cannot remember the last time she allowed me to touch her. When you meet Frances, you’ll understand.”

  James had no words of comfort but sufficient empathy. He blinked and returned to Ignatius Horne.

  “I need to ask you about the man whose name you took.”

  They were walking through a library, its roof and two walls having disappeared. Books lay strewn and shredded amid ash and rubble. Raindrops fell in steady beats.

  “What of him, James?”

  “How deeply did he love? Was he like other Chancellors?”

  Ignatius smiled. “At the end, he loved with all his heart. It allowed him to make the necessary sacrifice.”

  “The wife and daughter you mentioned before?”

  “Indeed.”

  “What was his daughter’s name?”

  “May-La.”

  “Is she still alive?”

  “I assume. She was alive before they assimilated me into you.”

  “Why am I blocked from knowing about Ignatius and his history?”

  “Because you are not the man he was at the end. Therefore, you would not understand or appreciate the choices he made. I will say this much: Ignatius, in a previous life, was as vicious a killer as you seem destined to become.”

  “What changed?”

  Ignatius thumbed through the pages of a tattered book.

  “Ah. Therein lies the crux. James, I have given you everything else you asked. Allow me this small treasure. Ignatius died thirty-five standard years ago. Leave this alone for now. When you reach the place of desolation where Ignatius found himself, I will tell you the rest of the story. Yes?”

  James blinked away, unsatisfied and also nervous. He suspected Ignatius was withholding the truth in expectation of James making a devastating error. When Ignatius first came to him, he vowed never to manipulate James the way Lydia did during those eight terrifying hours. The promise appeared to be crumbling.

  James resumed his conversation with Valentin.

  “You’re saying my mother wants me dead as much as my father?”

  “She won’t say it, but I’m sure she does.” He laid a hand on James. “I won’t let it happen, brother. If I have to choose between them and you …” He choked up. “It’s a strange thing to admit, but my heart is no longer locked away. You are my brother, and I will fight for you.”

  James’s heart buoyed and his shoulders firmed. “At least you won’t have to worry about dying for me.”

  After an awkward pause, they shared a laugh.

  When Rayna joined them a moment later, she interrupted with a bold declaration, pointing to SkyTower.

  “You are planning attack without me,” she said. “Admiral knows I am essential part of success. You will share all with me.”

  “Trust me, we were only talking as brothers,” Valentin said. “No more. The admiral already discussed operational details.”

  She jumped inside James’s mind.

  - You are very close to brother. I understand. You just met, no?

  - Yes. We have many lost years to make up for.

  - Da. I wished also for brother or sister, but I have nothing. All are gone now. This brother is distraction. You and I must be alone. I wish to be with you for very long time. You wish same. No?

  She did not understand. Even being in the same room with her rose his temperature. James fought every instinct to appear level-headed. Still, the heartbeat they shared grew stronger.

  - Soon, Rayna. We’ll have our time. I promise.

  He felt her break away, leaving a playful itch inside his mind.

  She cut a warrior’s figure in her new, black-and-violet ensemble, which contained wraps and pouches more esoteric than most Chancellors dared to wear, but in which she felt comfortable.

  She pointed to SkyTower. “I think little of this temple you assholes have created.” She focused her dark, searching eyes on Valentin. “I hope you do not mind being called asshole because you are Chancellor. I hear this word years ago when Christian missionary come to my village. He was calm and beautiful man until there was accident and he burned hand. Then he became angry and called us assholes. I never asked for meaning. I assumed.”

  Valentin grinned. “No offense taken. Many of us fit the word. Tell me, what is it you dislike about SkyTower?”

  “It is very big. Yes, very big. But it is made by people who think themselves bigger than universe. Da? It rises forever, as if it is reaching for God. I know of this story from Bible.”

  He turned to James and frowned. “Bible?”

  “Religious book. Scripture. From my Earth and hers.”

  “I see. We eliminated all forms of deity worship three thousand years ago.”

  “I am sure,” Rayna said. “Religious people would never build such thing. They would fear their God. In Bible, there was Tower of Babel. People built it high to find God. But they did not understand, and they displeased him. He cast them out. They appeared elsewhere, speaking many languages. They never tried to reach God again.”

  She paused as Valentin twisted his fa
ce. “Ah,” she said. “You know me for few hours, but you will see. I tell stories to make point.” She laughed. “There was no tower, and there was no God. Is all fantasy, but message is important. Humans who reach beyond themselves will fall. Is inevitable.”

  Valentin twisted between his brother and the second Jewel.

  “And you think this,” he pointed upward, “symbolizes our fall?”

  “No. Not our fall. Theirs.”

  She turned away toward the Scramjet.

  “Valentin, I know you are immortal. Do not look surprised. And no, your brother did not tell me. Not admiral. Not anyone.”

  “Then how?”

  “Does not matter. You too are abomination.” She glanced at James. “Is time for us to take our place, and for other assholes to go away. Da?”

  When she left them behind, Valentin and James shared a quiet moment. James recognized she was a much more volatile weapon than he ever anticipated.

  His spirits rose at the prospect of victory.

  Neither said a word as they returned to the Scramjet and prepared to meet their parents.

  45

  SkyTower, 2.1 miles above Earth

  Bouchet Compound, Level 6

  South Platform

  V ALENTIN BOUCHET LOVED HIS NEW BROTHER, yet this redirected loyalty unsettled him. These conflicting emotions clouded his goals and baffled his strategic decisions. His father would call these shudders a tragic flaw; Valentin would not disagree.

  As he stepped off the Scramjet amid familiar surroundings, Valentin felt as if he were part of an army invading his own home. A traitor to his name. Then he remembered what his parents did to their boys.

  “I’ve been on this platform a thousand times,” he told James. “When I was little, I loitered out here watching the ships come and go. The deck crew taught me how to control the cascade barrier and glidetrax.” He pointed to the platform’s open portal, which provided an epic view of wispy clouds slipping across the sky as if coming in for a landing. “I was raised to believe I was a god. Seems Father took it all too literally. Brother, you understand we have to hear him out first?”

  James took a quick, pensive survey of the platform, as if soaking in memories that should have been his as well. Valentin saw a rock-hard, sculpted warrior standing in place of the scrawny, petulant creature he met outside the IDF. He sported the early outline of a rough-hewn, blond beard.

  “Yes,” James said. “He’ll give his version of the truth. Then we’ll tell him to cut the crap or we’ll kill both him and our mother.”

  His words didn’t sound like an order, but they weren’t too far removed from what Valentin feared might happen before day’s end. His brother was committed to taking the most ruthless path to victory. Valentin saw it in his eyes when he emerged from the admiral’s cloaked office and severed his connection to his closest friends. He also sensed a mysterious relationship developing between James and Rayna – if only in brief, aching glances. His brother was forming a new family.

  “I am with you, James, so long as we make unified decisions.”

  The crew spread out per the admiral’s orders. Already, guards under Perrone’s employ were stationed at key positions on the platform, some wearing Solomon attire. The admiral huddled with Col. Lamar Onyx, who was No. 2 in the compound’s takeover. They reviewed the mission sit-rep with Maj. Sexton Marshall via circastream. Valentin and James awaited orders.

  “What do you think of it all?” Valentin asked his brother, who was studying the approaching cloud bank.

  James shrugged, as if unimpressed by the spectacle.

  “Hell of a garage, for sure.” He motioned to idle machinery near the landing dock. “Last place I lived, you could fit the entire shithole inside those two cargo loaders.”

  “You told me of your home. All this has to be something out of a dream. Yet it seems mundane to you, as if you’ve always lived here. How have you adjusted with such ease?”

  James fixed brown, piercing eyes on Perrone. His jaw tightened.

  “People.” His voice was flat, resolute. “I spent the last eight hours of my first life running from people I cared about. Some trying to kill me, some trying to turn me into a monster. Then I found out they aren’t any better over here. When you are not so impressed with the people, I reckon you have little regard for the things they make. As Michael would say, you get my speed?”

  Valentin nodded, but he saw a flinch when James mentioned his best friend’s name. Did he regret the decision to sever ties?

  “I get your speed,” Valentin said. “But if everything goes the way we hope, I think you’ll find there are wonders beyond Earth to drive even a cynic to tears.”

  Perrone and Onyx interrupted their musings.

  “Gentlemen,” Perrone began, “we have three mission objectives and a delicate timetable. After consulting with Col. Onyx and Maj. Marshall, we agreed our operations can be safely sustained for no more than thirty standard hours. By that time, automated protocols will trigger unkind attention to the compound. If the Marks Presidium, of which your father is the ranking member, determines he is being held under military siege, myself and anyone under my command may be subject to Articles of Treason under Chancellory bylaws. Your career,” he said to Valentin, “will be destroyed despite your name, and you,” he told James, “will be summarily executed. On the hopeful side, if we achieve our objectives, they will hail us as heroes.”

  Valentin thought the admiral would have been a much better fit for his mother. Like Frances Bouchet, Perrone judged life by strategic design, but with more flair. So strategic, he was certainly withholding key information. James was right: Don’t trust this man.

  “We understand, sir. Should my brother and I proceed?”

  “You may. When you talk to your parents, make sure they understand our terms. Yes?”

  Valentin offered a side-nod, even though the upcoming script might not follow the admiral’s precise orders.

  “Very good,” Perrone told them. “I realize you both have valid personal conflicts to resolve, but do not allow them to cloud our greater purpose. Maj. Marshall will expect to receive your report.” He looked past them to where Rayna stood, silent, hands behind her back, forelock dangling over one eye. “While you are gathering intelligence, I will join Rayna, Misha, our esteemed Dr. Tomelin, and Col. Onyx on a tour of your father’s biogenic labs.”

  “If I may, sir,” Valentin said. “From your tone, I gather my parents have not been forthcoming with the Major?”

  “I never expected them to be. No. They are banking on the element of time, which is why the two of you are our best option.”

  Valentin shared a sideways glance with his brother. I am a soldier of the Guard. I will obey my commanding officer. His thoughts did not feel convincing. He despised Perrone for assuming loyalty while placing Valentin in an impossible situation. He would have exchanged duties for full combat in a hot zone on Moroccan Prime.

  “We will see it done, sir,” he told Perrone with his most definitive side-nod. “We are prepared to do what’s necessary.”

  Valentin directed James to a fleet of small coaches sitting outside the Bouchet residence. He chose the closest two-seater. When James jumped in, Valentin waved his hand over a holographic control, and the vehicle created a buffer ten inches between itself and the floor. The still-seats magnetized their passengers.

  “We call them rifters,” he told his brother. “Stands for restricted intra-facilities transit. This model is two hundred years old.” He pressed his hand against the control, and the rifter shimmied forward through the residential access portal in silence. “Most people don’t realize how huge the compound is until they try to take it on foot. If we hiked every level, every promenade, we’d be walking for five hours. There are only eight private lifts, and we never use the Transport Core.”

  James flexed a brow. “Why? That’s the center of SkyTower.”

  “Father dismantled local access to T-Core long before I was born. Violates
every safety protocol. No one else has ever had the leverage to do the same. He said it gave us security. We control three platforms and the airspace outside each. He thought it would prevent an incursion like the one Perrone made today.”

  “Guess he thought wrong,” James said. “Tell me something, brother. You think our father would make that kind of mistake?”

  There it was. James hit on the nagging itch that troubled Valentin from the first minute he learned how Perrone lured away Emil Bouchet’s primary security team. It seemed too stunning to be true, even then.

  “You believe something else is happening here?”

  James shook his head. “Maybe. If there’s one thing I’ve learned the hard way – nothing is how it seems. Not people, and damn sure not our own lives.”

  “Good. At least we’re both paranoid. Gives us a better chance to expect the surprise before it hurts.”

  Valentin eased the rifter through the huge promenades connecting the many segments of the residence. James commented on the endless nature of the facility. Valentin explained to him about the suites for each Bouchet, the leisure and recreation simulators, the botanical gardens, the aquarium, the ballroom, the art gallery, the guest wings, the staff quarters, and the music hall.

  “When I first learned how to operate one of these,” Valentin said with a sly grin, “I caused endless chaos to staff. If not for the anti-collision buffer, I would have killed people before I was six.”

  They entered the widest promenade and most lit. Hidden spotlights cast glows upon the walls to illuminate artifacts. Everything from bones to fabrics to urns to glistening jewels to paintings aligned both sides for more than a hundred meters.

  “This is the colonial exhibit,” he told James. “Father’s acquisitions from all thirty-nine colonies. There’s more net worth on these walls than most Chancellors can find in their entire estate.”

  James seemed impressed at last. “How does he do it? How does anybody become this rich?”