by Wesley Chu
By this time, Elise wasn’t sure if the Flatirons just spoke weirdly or the comm band was translating things wrong. In either case, she wasn’t going to give this guy the satisfaction of talking crap.
“Without our help,” she replied coolly, “you might not have many fights left to watch over us. Get out of my way so I can gather my guardians.”
Elise yanked the door harder than she had intended and hurried inside. “Guardians, up!” Her chest swelled with pride when twenty guardians seemingly appeared out of thin air. The past six months of trials had hardened the tribe’s defenders. “I need thirty more volunteers to help the Flatirons defend the All Galaxy,” she called out. A few moments later, sixty or so more guardians had assembled.
She turned to lead them downstairs when Maanx blocked the door. “Only fifty.”
“Fifty with me,” she called, not taking her eyes off the young man.
“You count as one,” Maanx added.
“Stupid fool,” she muttered under her breath. She probably shouldn’t be going down with the guardians but there was no way she was going to let this jackass order around or abuse any of her people. No, just like Oldest Qawol had when he sent his people to battle, Elise was going to be right there standing alongside them. She reduced her numbers to forty-nine exactly and followed Maanx as he led them down to the besieged barricade.
By the time they reached that part of the floor, the fighting had spread to both eastern barricades. Elise watched open-mouthed as twenty or so defenders struggled to hold back what looked like five or six times their number. This wasn’t a raid; this was an all-out attack. She looked over at the other bridge that was just a little ways down the hall. It wasn’t in much better shape.
Elise pointed at the farther barricade. “We’ll split up my people, half on each side.”
“No, you street vultures stay together so I can keep an eye on you.”
“Oh, for Gaia’s sake, you idiot,” she screamed. “Look at who’s attacking you on the other side. Those are the people you should be worried about!”
Maanx hesitated, and finally nodded. “You stay here. I’ll take half to the other barricade.”
Elise divvied up her teams and urged them forward. She tried to join them on top of the parapet, but was held back by one of the older guardians. When she tried to follow anyway, he threatened to assign someone to babysit and keep her out of danger.
She felt useless watching from a safe distance. Her aim with her wrist beam was too poor to effectively shoot any of the attackers that were able to scale the barricade onto the parapet, and she was too worried about hitting her own people to even try. In the end, she realized that everyone would have been better off if she had just stayed upstairs. No, that wasn’t true. At least that Maanx guy had someone to keep him in check.
The fighting continued for another hour. When it was all over, her tired and exhausted guardians dragged themselves alongside the even wearier fights. They retreated shoulder to shoulder as one unit down the barricades. They were replaced by other fights that, to be honest, weren’t in much better shape than the ones who had just fought. They were just a little more rested. She took a quick inventory of her people and was thankful that there were no casualties, though over half had suffered injuries of some sort. One man had broken his leg falling off the parapet.
Maanx barked orders to the replacements filtering in. It was then that she realized that he wasn’t actually scowling at her. That was just the expression he always wore. He turned and their eyes met, and he gave her an ever-so-slight nod. Then he went back to yelling at his people. Well, the fact that he didn’t even bring up escorting her straight back to the Elfreth floors was progress. It was small, but she’d take it.
Elise directed her people to the infirmary one floor up and sent a runner to retrieve some of the medical supplies from her tribe’s own stash. She stayed there for the next few hours until the growling of her stomach could no longer be ignored, and one of the nurses told her that she had already missed lunch.
Elise went up sixteen levels to the dining floor, which was the only floor where the tribes were allowed to mingle and trade. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Crowe speaking with the food staff. She caught him looking her way, and then he focused back on whatever he was doing. Elise did her best to keep her cool. If the guy was going to say, do, or offer something, he’d do it on his own time. The last thing she wanted was to look desperate, no matter how much so she actually was.
She got the dregs of some sort of soup and sat down, staring at the bowl. She was so tired right now, she could just face-plant and drown in the broth, then she reminded herself that there were a dozen of her people bleeding on the floor downstairs. At least she had been able to walk up here on her own. They were the ones who had sacrificed, and for what?
Elise finished her meager meal alone and snuck one final peek at where she had last seen Crowe. He was no longer there. She swallowed her disappointment and stood up, ready to head back downstairs to the infirmary.
“Oldest, I did not want to disturb your meal,” an old man’s voice said from behind her.
Elise closed her eyes and held the relief back from showing on her face as she turned. “Please, Teacher, any time.”
“My son says your people fought bravely, that perhaps the defense of the eastern walls might have been more difficult without you.”
“Your son … Maanx?” Elise couldn’t hide her surprise. “The sour one?”
“He trusts little, but means well.” Crowe paused. “He is also loathe to offer praise, something I fear he learned from his father. He has had a difficult childhood.”
“He seems like an upstanding young man,” she lied. “Is there something I can help you with, Teacher?”
“I have an offer for you, Oldest. As you can see, the raids lately have increased not only in size but frequency, mostly from the north. We do not know why this is happening, but my people are struggling to hold our building. I would like to offer to share resources in return for shared work.”
“What’s the work?” Elise asked.
“Your guardians on the north and east walls. In return, you are welcome to stay.”
Those were the two most often under attack, but Elise had seen the rest of the Flatirons’ defenders. They needed some time off the front line to recover, and she knew she was buying Crowe’s goodwill if she accepted. More importantly, she could tell he knew that as well.
“The Elfreth will need more floors. Also no more guards and locks. If you are to trust us with your safety, then you are to trust us as we have you.”
Crowe looked thoughtful. “Within limits. You are still our guests, subject to our laws. Your tribe’s labor is your own, not ours.”
“But we are still our own tribe. Your stores are yours and ours are ours,” she said. “We also must be allowed to plant and farm on unused floors.”
Crowe nodded and offered his hand. “If you stay that long, they are yours within reason.”
She shook it. The fact that he didn’t disagree to their farming the upper floors gave her hope that he was offering a long-term stay. She kept her smile small as she went over a few minor details with him, but inside, Elise was ecstatic. For the first time in months, she finally saw a glimmer of hope.
TWENTY-ONE
TITUS
“Are you sure you weren’t sent by those pea-brained shits at the Praetorian society to give old Titus one last tug of the beard before he goes off on his final Light Burst?”
Titus 2.3, Grand Juror of Darkside Prime, having lived a 155 Venusian years, was the oldest man on all of Venus. He was also the foremost inventor of his generation and once considered the second-brightest mind of the century. Once, meaning he had just recently been bumped down to third by some upstart nineteen-year-old little girl named Priestly from those crazy Technology Isolationists. Go figure those jerk-offs couldn’t wait a week and spare him the news of his demotion until after he’d already been fried to a crisp.
Supposedly, this Grace girl had a once-in-a-thousand-years mind. Bah, that’s what they had said about Titus when he was young. A thousand years didn’t count for much any more, did it? Still, he had held on to that title for most of his life, so he was content to let the child bear the burden of brilliance. Titus was pretty tired of being the smartest guy at every party anyway.
The stranger blocking his path to his honorary Light Burst shuttle craned his head back and looked up at the tip of the needle-shaped ship, slated to take off in the next ten minutes. The two stood at an impasse on the platform even as the Light Burst thrusters smoked, and it began its preignition sequence. Titus really should be buckled in by now. Five kilometers away, watching safely in their observation tower, Titus’s family, friends, and peers were all waiting for him to commit suicide.
“I assure you, Grand Juror, as great of an honor as being granted the Light Burst voyage is, flying into the sun is probably one of the worst ways a person could die. As soon as your heat shields—”
“I know what happens, boy. I designed this flaming contraption. It’s Venusian tradition to send us old shits off this way. Blaze of fucking glory,” Titus huffed. “I’ve taken four life extensions already. That’s a record, by the way. Most granted any Venusian, and frankly, my damn back’s too tired to hold me up anymore. I’ve done more than anyone in three lifetimes, and if those dumb jerk-offs want to push me out now, well, I don’t have the energy to argue.”
“Your mind is still as sharp as ever, Titus.”
“Address me as Grand Juror, boy. I’ve earned the title.”
“As you wish, Grand Juror. I am here to offer you an opportunity to continue your work.”
“Are you sure you’re not from the Praetorian?”
“I assure you I am not, Grand Juror. If you do not believe me, then by all means step into the Light Burst and be on your way. I won’t stop you. However, my scans have confirmed that you are still healthy and may live for several more years. If you wish to put those to good use, then you should come with me.”
Titus hesitated. He had already said goodbye to his husband and two wives. He had held court for his grandchildren and played with his great-grandchildren one last time, making sure they all realized he wasn’t returning from this voyage. The boys at the Praetorian Society had thrown him a grand party. They had even given him a prostitute, though Titus didn’t know what he was flaming supposed to do with the young thing without hurting himself.
Everything felt pretty final. Sometimes, an old guy just has to recognize the end credits when they roll by. Still, the opportunity this stranger presented was interesting. After all, a couple of more years were nothing to sneeze at. It had only taken him two to invent the reflective rad shields everyone on the colony currently wore. That achievement had earned him his invitation to the Praetorian. There was also the matter of tradition. Isn’t this what he was supposed to do as an elder honored citizen of Venus? What if word got out that he skipped out on his own Light Burst? It would be a scandal! How could his familial clan—
“Excuse me, Grand Juror, time is running out. The Light Burst is going to take off in the next six minutes. I need to be away from the blast radius when it does. Regardless, you need to be on that ship or with me.”
“Don’t rush me, boy,” Titus snapped. “Do you know who I am?”
“Yes, Grand Juror, you are—”
“I was being facetious, you little flaming punk. This is a big decision to make. I don’t like being rushed. Where are we going anyway?”
“A place that needs your skills and intelligence. A place where you can continue to do good. So can I assume you will come?”
“Assume all you want. I’m still thinking. How did you get past security anyway? You know, I designed this entire launch bay. Call it professional curiosity, so in my next life, I can build a better system to keep creepy assholes like you out. This is a private party.”
“Your two honor guards at the door do not know I am here.”
“Really? Guards! Get your lazy asses in here.”
The stranger sighed. “I really wish you hadn’t done that.”
The two red-clad Venusian Royal Honor Guards came running into the room, both carrying their battery tridents. Their insect-like armor, more ceremonial than functional, of that jackass Novein’s worthless design aesthetic, no less, was modeled after a type of old Earth beetle that used to be worshiped as a god. The two men, however, were elite warriors specifically chosen by the Praetorians to honor Titus 2.3’s Light Burst.
“Stand aside, Grand Juror,” one of the guards said, leveling his battery trident at the stranger.
For a second, Titus feared that the stranger would use him as a human shield and that he would die at the base of his own Light Burst ship before even getting the chance to kill himself properly. That would have just been a final indignation. To his pleasant surprise, though, the stranger did not stop Titus from waddling off to the side to safety. The honor guard who had spoken aimed his battery trident and fired a lightning arc at the stranger. The stranger tilted just a couple of centimeters to his left and let the arc shoot harmlessly past his head.
“You have really good reflexes,” Titus observed, admittedly entertained.
The second honor guard charged in closer and fired his trident as well. Titus’s chest puffed up a little. He recognized one of his babies. It was a kinesis spear, one of his later inventions, which could wrap a kinetic field around an object and manipulate it. He watched as the blue field shot out and enveloped the stranger. Then, to his surprise, nothing happened. The field that was supposed to surround the guy just popped like a bubble.
“You must have a defective spear,” Titus commented, his face turning a little red. His mouth dropped when a strange yellow crackle of energy leaped out of the stranger. At first, it looked like the battery trident had malfunctioned and was causing energy feedback, then Titus realized the stranger was surrounded by a nearly translucent field of yellow light.
The kinesis spear exploded in the honor guard’s hands, and then the stranger seemed to have somehow teleported, or moved really, really fast, next to the guard. There was a clumsy exchange, and the honor guard flew into the air and slammed into the wall on the far side of the silo.
The remaining guard fired again; this time, his lightning arc hit the stranger square in the chest, but the blue arc harmlessly fragmented into thousands of pieces off the stranger’s yellow field. A similar yellow surge followed, and an invisible force struck the honor guard, cracking his chestplate in half. The impact slammed the guard into one of the railings.
The stranger turned to Titus. “I’m sorry that had to happen, Grand Juror. If you do not wish to come with me, I will not force you.”
Titus, a lifelong pacifist, harrumphed. “You young men, always thinking with your dicks and biceps. All right, now you’ve really piqued my curiosity. If I go with you, what’s my guarantee what you’re offering is true?”
“Would you like a cyanide pill before we leave? If you change your mind, you are free to still commit suicide.”
Titus looked as the Light Burst began its final sequence. Sixty seconds until they were both burned to a crisp. It was too late to get away and too late to get into the rocket. It was the story of his life, always taking too long to make decisions.
On one hand, that’s why he never got his proper due, and why he was only considered the second-best mind of his generation. He was much smarter than Novein, that hack. The only reason Novein always got the credit was because he knew how to work their peers at the Praetorian. He was also always first to market, decisive, and admittedly had better taste. That was why he was ranked first while Titus was always the bridesmaid. Analysis paralysis was what his second wife called it. On the other hand, his careful decision-making had allowed him to live this long. Well, except in this case, where his indecision was going to kill them both.
“Oh, fine,” he grumbled. “Though I flaming think it’s too
late…”
In a split second, the stranger grabbed Titus and cradled him close to his body. Just as the rocket ignited, the stranger and Titus launched up the tube, as if they had their own invisible rockets strapped to their asses. They shot straight through the launch opening and cleared the planet.
A few minutes later, in the black depths of space, Titus and the stranger watched as a spark of light erupted from Venus’s surface, leaving a thin yellow trail. They floated for twenty minutes, watching his coffin disappear toward the sun.
“Like watching my own damn funeral,” Titus grumbled.
“A spectacular event, Grand Juror,” the stranger said.
“Now what? Why are we still floating here? It’s making me dizzy. Makes me want to shit my pants. Where are we going next?” He paused. “How are you doing this?”
The stranger smiled for the first time. “Please stand by. We will need to wait until we are cleared to jump back.”
“Go figure. You hurry me up and make me wait. How flaming rude. What do you mean, jump, anyway? Where are we going?”
“To the future.”
Titus wasn’t surprised. He had surmised as much when he saw all the stranger’s powers. “Holy hell. I knew it! Talk about burying the lead. You know, boy, you should have opened with that line. I’d have hopped in your sack right away if you hadn’t beaten around the bush and wasted my time. I look forward to the medical developments that will make my life more bearable.”
“Apologies, Grand Juror, there isn’t a cure for old age.”
“Fuck.” Titus paused. “Is the future at least nice? Like a utopian paradise?”
The stranger shook his head. “I hate to disappoint you.”
“Flaming fuck. I might as well have stayed in the rocket, then.”
“Would you like your cyanide pill now or when we get there?”
* * *
There was a bright yellow flash. Followed by intense pain. And then nothing. A few seconds later, James woke up to a voice screaming in his head as he stared at the abandoned Venusian colonies against the planet’s angry red landscape. His skin burned from the intense heat of the sun, yet at the same time, he felt a bone-shaking chill spread through his body. He looked to his left and saw Titus floating next to him.
