Raven's Song

by Launnie Roush

  Del gritted his teeth as both the pain of his wound and his exertions assaulted his flagging endurance. Sweat cascaded down his brow and stung his eyes, his breath was coming in shallow, shuddery pants, and his heart was thudding wildly, yet he refused to submit to his foe. A small blur of motion caught his attention, and without any discernable evidence of doing so, he watched as his Uncle Bert began to creep up behind the White Spider, Richard’s rapier in hand. As his uncle drew close, the White Spider’s head cocked almost imperceptibly to the side.

  He knows Uncle Bert’s coming, Del’s panicked mind shrieked, he knows, and Uncle Bert doesn’t realize!

  The White Spider’s weight subtly shifted to his right leg, and Del quickly deduced his intent. When Bert was close enough, he would release Del’s captive wrist and angle his body so that he could dodge Del’s blow, strike his unaware uncle, and use the angle and momentum of his actions to tear Del’s back open with his kama. Del knew his wound would render him incapacitated before quickly killing him, giving the White Spider free reign to finish his murderous spree. Bert was almost in range of the White Spider, his borrowed sword awkwardly held in preparation for a thrusting strike.

  “UNCLE BERT, STOP!” Del roared.

  Bert stopped short, an expression of bewilderment instantaneously appearing on his face. As Del had desperately hoped would happen, he felt the White Spider’s body relax for the briefest of moments, indicating his fleeting surprise. He had been hoping for this, and when it happened, he acted reflexively. He released his hold on the White Spider’s forearm and instead gripped the man’s bicep before surging forward with all his might. Bert saw the charge and miraculously had the gumption to brace himself and prepare the rapier for the coming impact. All this happened in the span of seconds, and by the time the White Spider was able to react, the blade in Bert’s hands was cleanly piercing his torso.

  The White Spider knew the blade had skewered his liver but also knew that as Del continued charging it would exit the front of his body, at which point he would pull the young man close and impale him on the deadly point as well. Then, with his remaining strength, he would open Del’s flank with his kama, and they would die together in a warrior’s embrace, an honorable end for them both. Before the blade protruded more than half an inch from the White Spider’s front, before he could be granted his honorable death, Del came to a halt. The White Spider felt a kind of angry bewilderment as Del wrenched him off the blade, flung him to the floor, and straddled his body. During this exchange the White Spider had lost his grip on his remaining kama, which Del yanked from his flank with a pained grunt. As Del forced the blades of two separate kamas through his woefully thin chest armor and into his heart, the White Spider silently cursed his arrogance and was ashamed for underestimating this, his last and most worthy opponent.

  #

  The Spiders stood in the gate area, their senses on full alert. There had been no word from the White Spider or any of the chunins or their genins in the arena proper. The head chunin of those assigned to the gate area was starting to get anxious. They had been ordered to remain in the gate area until further notice, but the White Spider had not answered any radio hails in the last few minutes. Although he knew disobeying his orders was punishable by death, the chunin was convinced that something had gone horribly wrong. Just as he was preparing to issue an order for a scouting party to advance into the stadium, the HUD of his mask’s goggles suddenly lit up with two dire words:

  FULL RETREAT

  This order, their red glaring letters burning in the HUD of every living Spider agent present in the stadium, were unquestionable, superseding the orders of even the White Spider himself. As stealthily as they had originally come, the Spiders departed, leaving behind a horrid tableau of devastation and misery.

  #

  After the White Spider’s death, Del felt his body go weak with a mixture of relief, exhaustion, and blood loss. He slowly slid off his opponent’s corpse and attempted to stand, but found the task impossible. As he sat on his knees, he suddenly became acutely aware of his pain. His body was screaming with numerous new injuries, yet his physical pain paled in comparison to the devastated anguish tearing at his heart and soul as his thoughts suddenly turned to his slain mother. His vision began to grow dark, and he gladly welcomed the coming unconsciousness. He felt his body fall forward, but he never hit the floor.

  Sheila arrived just in time to catch Del and pull him into her lap. She sat silently, potent emotion choking her words. Del’s body was quaking, and each breath he took was labored and shuddery. She cradled him close, applied pressure to his flank wound, and gently kissed his head and face, which were fouled with sweat and blood. She had now seen him fight a true battle, had witnessed the killing machine his captors had molded him into. Under ordinary circumstances, his deadly skill would have appalled and even frightened her, yet at this moment she was grateful for said skill. He had put his life on the line without the slightest hesitation to keep his loved ones safe, and though she still could not bring herself to speak, she hoped her tender gestures would adequately convey her endless love and gratitude.

  #

  Rabbit parameds and reinforcement Raven rangers from the nearest garrisons quickly arrived at the stadium and were soon busy tending the wounded, removing the dead, and apprehending any remaining Spiders. A paramed had seen to Max’s wounds, and he now watched with deep concern as they tended to his son. He was proud of his child’s skill and bravery, while at the same time he was filled with great terror at the possibility of losing him, this time forever. As he watched the parameds work another feeling, this one shame, seized him. He was one of the strongest, most skilled warriors in the VSF, if not the entire Federation, and he had utterly and completely failed. His enemies had effortlessly wounded him and, worse yet, had wounded his loved ones and taken the love of his life and mother of his children from him, and he had been unable to do anything to stop them.

  The thought of Caitlyn stirred him to action, and he gently squeezed his son’s hand. The young man was laying on his stomach as the parameds tended his flank wound, and when he looked to him, the tense, pained expression on his face added to Max’s torment. “Del,” Max began, “your mother–”

  “I understand, Dad,” Del assured him, his voice strained.

  Max nodded, knelt down to kiss his son’s temple, then stood, the effort aggravating his chest wound. He made his way into the stands, one arm bracing his chest and his stride heavy and full of purpose. He stepped out of the concourse, blinking his eyes against the glare of the midafternoon sun. Once they had acclimated to the light, the scene he took in before him more closely resembled a horror film than it did a stadium. Countless corpses, some of them Spiders and rangers, but the tragic majority of them innocent Federation citizens of all ages, were splayed about in gruesome poses. Faces were frozen in permanent expressions of absolute terror and agony, bodies were riddled with horrendous wounds, the concrete was slick with blood, and a ghastly smell permeated the air.

  A regiment of parameds worked diligently, moving among the stands in an attempt to save as many lives as possible. Max heaved a deep, shuddery sigh as he started down the steps, his eyes fixed on the governor’s box. As he walked, he suddenly spied his wife, a ring of numerous Spider corpses around her. He quickly surmised that Del had stood over her, keeping the Spiders from approaching his mother’s body. He filed this realization close to his heart as he continued forward.

  Everything suddenly seemed to start moving in slow motion as he came upon Caitlyn, her body soaked with blood. He fell to his knees, pulled her into his lap, and took one of her clammy hands into his own. His mind was filled with memories of her; the first time they met, their first kiss, their first date, the first time they made love, his proposal and their marriage, the birth of their children, and so many countless others. But even these were not enough to satisfy him, and there would be no more. His enemies had robbed him of all the future moments; all the hugs, playful sh
oulder punches, lazy days in bed, outings with their children, kisses . . .

  He leaned down, gently kissed her lips, and upon feeling her cold flesh he let out a loud, wretchedly mournful sob. He tried to look upon her face but was blinded by hot tears. He bowed his head and let small, miserable sobs escape him as he took his one truest love’s lifeless hand and held it to his cheek for a long, long time.

  THIRTY EIGHT

  It was decided that on the sixteenth of July, 3183, Caitlyn would be buried at her father’s house beneath the oak tree she had so loved as a child. The scramjet air transports’ speed meant that, despite being fifteen hundred miles away, her husband and children could be at her side within a couple of hours. She was clothed in her wedding dress and encased in a glass coffin that was accented with silver filigree. The Blessed Anthony Bell performed the funerary service out beneath a brightly shining morning sun. The casket was surrounded by her entire family and all her friends, most of them quietly weeping as the funeral commenced.

  “Mother, wife, daughter, sister, aunt, and friend. Caitlyn touched so many lives in her brief time with us. She was a pillar of strength and a ray of hope for those who were fortunate enough to know her. She is not gone from our lives completely as her spirit will live on and protect those she loved so completely in life. We must remember the good times that were shared with Caitlyn and be strong for her,” Blessed Bell recited.

  Just then Eve, who had been sitting in her father’s lap, his arms wrapped about her, began struggling against him. “No! I gotta wake mommy up! She promised we’d go to the zoo, so I gotta wake her up! Lemme go, daddy, please!”

  If the hearts of those in attendance were breaking already, then the little girl’s actions utterly destroyed them. Max stood, and with Eve still in his arms, he went to the casket and knelt beside it. Eve continued to sob as she threw her head down on her mother’s casket. Max attempted to console his daughter, whispering soothing words and holding her tight.

  Del looked on with a grim expression, no tears falling from his eyes. He was devastated beyond human description by his mother’s death, but he was still unable to weep. He knew that one day he would shed tears for his mother, but for now he would focus his energies on helping his father and sister overcome their grief. With this in mind, he went to his father’s side and assisted in consoling Eve.

  After the funeral had finished, everyone moved to the house for the repast. Max, however, remained behind and had kneeled down and laid his head down upon Caitlyn’s casket. An hour later, Michael, Bert, Daryl, and Ronald returned and stood nearby, watching him with somber expressions.

  “He is taking this terribly,” Daryl observed softly.

  “Yeah, but what can we do?” Ronald wondered.

  Bert shook his head, “I don’t know, but we have to try something.”

  The men strolled over to Max, and Bert broke the ice by gently laying his hand on his brother’s shoulder.

  “Leave me alone!” Max snapped.

  “It’s us,” Bert said quietly.

  “Us?” Max asked.

  “Your brothers,” Michael answered.

  “What do you want?” Max asked with a sudden hollowness.

  “We want to help you,” Bert told him.

  “You can’t help me,” Max insisted.

  “We could try,” Bert offered.

  Max suddenly leapt to his feet and grabbed Bert by the lapels of his jacket, “YOU CAN’T HELP ME!”

  “Max, please,” Bert soothed.

  “To the Abyss with ya! All of ya! Y’all come over here and expect me to just cheer up all nice and easy-like?! Oh in-fuggin’-deed! I lose a wife, and my children lose their mother, and I’m supposed to be happy?! Damn you, Bertram! Damn you all!” Max countered, releasing Bert and glaring at the entire group as he finished speaking.

  “No one’s askin’ you to cheer up, Max. We just want you to be strong. Caitlyn’d want you to be strong, for yourself and your kids,” Michael explained.

  “Yeah?! Like I was strong for her at the gridiron match?!” Max challenged.

  “It wasn’t your fault, Max,” Ronald soothed.

  “Of course it’s my fault, you asshole! I couldn’t protect her! I pulled her in front of that fuckin’ arrow, then stood over her like a braindead fuckin’ moron and watched her die! None of you saw her face! She looked so confused, like she couldn’t figure out why I let her come to harm, why I failed her!” Max raged, gesturing wildly and tearing at his clothes as he spoke.

  “Maximilian, I am certain she did not blame you. I am equally certain her final thoughts were of you and your children, the loves of her life. She would not want your grief to consume you or cause you to neglect your children. You need each other now more than ever before,” Daryl cut in.

  “I know, but how can I face ‘em? I could do nothin’ to prevent the death of their mother. I failed them, too,” Max sobbed, his body sagging under the weight of his grief.

  “Your daughter cries for her mother at this very moment, and you can only sit there and feel sorry for yourself? You need to act like a man and go to your children,” Daryl commanded.

  “How would you know what I need to do?! You are a SIR! A soulless fucking robot! You don’t know, can never know, what it’s like to truly love!” Max blasted as he thrust an accusatory finger at Daryl.

  “Maximilian, no!” Michael gasped, the cruelty of his brother-in-law’s words leaving him, Ronald, and Bert appalled.

  “I know one aspect of love is that you would rather face all the pain and horrors of this life and the next so that ones you love never has to. I feel that way about many people, including Caitlyn. I would have gladly taken her place and been removed from existence if it meant she could have lived for even one more second. I assure you I know what love is, Maximilian,” Daryl returned gently.

  Max was silent for a long time.

  “Maximilian, please,” Bert pleaded.

  Max hung his head, heaved a watery sigh, then looked to each man in turn. “I’m so sorry. Daryl, all of you, I’m sorry. You’re all absolutely right. I know my wife wouldn’t want me to leave our children lost in their grief. I’ll go to them, I’ll be there for them,” Max declared before starting towards his father-in-law’s house, the other men in tow.

  #

  Abraham, every fiber of his being wracked with grief, met Max outside the parlor, “Max–”

  Max cut him off, “My children.”

  Abraham nodded with understanding and stepped aside. “In their mother’s old room.”

  Max went to the bedroom where his wife had spent a large part of her childhood. It had been left untouched since she had moved out after graduating high school. Kendo trophies and other keepsakes stood on shelves, and the décor was tasteful and decidedly feminine. Del was sitting on his mother’s old full-sized bed alongside Sheila, where they attempted to comfort Eve, who sat sobbing in his lap. Max went and took a seat beside them. When she noticed him, Eve crawled into his lap, and he took her into arms.

  “I want mommy!” she sobbed.

  “We all do, love, and we’ll see her again someday, but we’ll have to be patient till then,” Max soothed, fresh tears brimming his eyes.

  The quartet was silent for a long time. Del’s arm draped across Max’s shoulder, and he looked to find his son regarding him with a pained expression. “She was absolutely wonderful to me. I hardly knew her, but I’ll always love her,” he said.

  “And she never stopped lovin’ you,” Max assured him.

  “What happens now?” Del asked.

  “With what?” Max countered.

  “The Spiders, the election, us. Everything.”

  Max kissed the top of Eve’s head, “Well, Big Guy, whatever we have to endure, we’ll endure together.”

  EPILOGUE

  “On the third Wednesday of June in the year 3184, a vote was held to determine which state governor would be elected President of the Democratic Federation of States. It was by an overwhelming ma
rgin that Bertram Von Raben won the election. Making good on Caitlyn’s promise, Bertram made it his first order of business to cure the mutations affecting the children of the Scarab citizens. Unfortunately, he also took on the staggering political turmoil his father’s feuding had created. Nonetheless, he was determined to resolve this issue as well, in addition to solving any other problems that might confront him so long as he held office. Luckily he had Angelina and Peter at his side, the couple performing as able assistants when they weren’t caught up in their romantic escapades.

  “Richard Fulsom’s misappropriation of Liberty Enterprise’s funds and his and his father’s dealings with the House of Spiders had been unearthed, and the corporation, now under new leadership, ceased all hostilities with Veriform Holdings, effectively ending the centuries-long Von Raben-Fulsom feud. Controlling interest of Veriform Holdings was turned over Annaliesa, who ran the corporation with integrity and a powerful business acumen. Michael served her dutifully as her husband and general of the VSF, though the security force had assumed a peacetime deployment. James did his parents proud by quickly becoming the standout ranger recruit of his platoon, and his charming, good-humored personality won him the adulation of his fellow recruits.

  “Maximilian dedicated his every spare moment to his children, attempting to make them as happy as they made him. Del continued to adjust to freedom, his family, friends, and Sheila helping him every step of the way. Though he despised having to do so, he dutifully adhered to his career assignment, though he fervently hoped his career transfer would go through. Eve was haunted by her mother’s passing for some time, but eventually made peace with her loss and resumed her happy and relatively carefree childhood. Love would, once again, become a tangible thing for Max, and it would be the plinth upon which he would support his little family.