by Mark Lingane
“That’s enough of the bad. What’s the good?”
“You have me here to look good.” Memphis smiled.
“We’re at the edge of the death plains,” Niels said. “Denver’s only about two hours away.”
“How can you tell?” Sebastian said.
Niels pointed to the western horizon. It had a faint blue tinge to it. He smiled. Memphis smiled, too, but her head was full of her early deal with the Master. She’d have to face him to save Sebastian. She didn’t know how either would react to seeing each other face-to-face again. She bit her lip as she tried to keep her emotions under control.
“Before we go,” she started, “there’s something you need to know.”
The other two turned to her.
“You remember how they said the Master was coming to get us at the gate? To get to the gate he has to go through Denver. He and I have a bit of a history together, and I’m not totally welcome in his sight. Some things have been said. He tried to imprison me. He’ll probably want to do that again if he ever sees me. In fact, while either one of us is alive he’ll probably want me dead.”
“Maybe he won’t be there,” Sebastian said.
“Let’s hope so. But after everything you’ve done over the last days, you could probably beat him with one hand behind your back.” She gave him a smile.
Sebastian swelled with pride.
“Sebastian, it looks like your suspension’s bent. Can you check it before we head on?” Niels said.
Sebastian sighed theatrically and got up. Niels watched him walk away, then turned to Memphis.
“I’ve worked out who you are,” he said.
Memphis turned to him. “Please don’t say anything.”
“How are you going to deal with seeing him?”
“He never felt the same as me.”
“No. But it’s about what you’ll do. If we see him, I think his reaction will be predictable. Are you someone who can put the past behind them?”
“I’ve chosen someone else,” she said. “We move on.”
“As long as you’re sure.”
71
SEBASTIAN RODE TOWARD Denver, a pile of bright lights on the horizon, with the repaired Veronica cruising behind him. The road was mercifully flat and his spirits were high, although the pain of the radioactive land still gnawed at him, fuzzing his mind. The Master should present little opposition. Memphis would then be free. And when he defeated the Master, the land and its people would be free of this tyranny. This time, it would be done right—without wiping out the entire human species.
He thought back to the cyborgs and his disastrous experience with them. And he thought back to @summer, and felt again the pang of remorse and loss of her. It cut deep into him, a memory still there, still hurting, still longing.
“Come on, superstar,” Memphis cried in his ear, “to freedom.”
He smiled, and they charged on into the town.
“Something’s wrong,” Memphis said. “Everything’s so quiet. Denver should be like Carson, full of life and action.”
“He’s here, isn’t he?” Niels said.
She nodded. “I can feel it, the fear.”
Dark clouds had rolled in during the last hour and the sky was heavy. Spots of rain dotted the ground, cooling it in the warm evening air. They parked on Main Street, the heart of the city. Dark buildings lined the street, silent and watchful. Quick glances down side streets revealed more endless deserted thoroughfares. They moved back to their vehicles, cautiously keeping an eye out.
A bald man stepped out of a nearby building. His hand fell on Memphis’s shoulder. “Got you,” he snarled.
Memphis went rigid at the sight of her old colleague. “Rex! What’re you doing here? How did you get here so quickly?”
“You’ve been a hard lady to track down. I had to shut the shop. You owe me thousands in lost revenue.” He pulled out a long knife and stepped toward them.
Sebastian drew his sword.
“You going to be a hero, boy?”
“I don’t need to be much of a hero to beat you.”
Rex whistled. People emerged from everywhere, streaming out of doorways and alleyways. There were hundreds.
The trio turned and fled.
“Get ’em!” Rex cried, sprinting after them. “Reward goes to the winners.”
The crowd lurched off after them. Memphis grabbed Sebastian’s hand and they all ran down the street, but another mob emerged ahead of them, streaming out across the street blocking their way.
“We’re being forced somewhere,” Niels puffed.
“I know,” Sebastian said. “And that worries me.”
Street by street, they were forced to go where the crowd wanted them to go, channeled toward an unknown destination. The mobs were almost drooling at the sight of them.
“Look!” Niels pointed to a shop window that held a telescreen.
On the screen flashed images of Memphis and Sebastian, along with a one-million-credits reward for their capture.
They burst into a small square that was surrounded by derelict shops on all sides. A dead tree stood in the middle. The mob crowded in on all sides.
Rex stepped forward and faced them. “We’ve been tracking you, and now we have you just where we want you.”
“Rex, what are you doing?” Memphis said. “How can you do this to me after all our runs?”
“After that last stunt you pulled in Steamboat?” He laughed. “Never believed there was honor among thieves.” He looked past them. Out of the shadows emerged a tall, dark figure.
“I believe you owe me some money,” Rex said, looking back at Memphis.
“There’s only one person I owe anything to. Thank you, Memphis, for bringing him to me,” the Master said. His voice echoed out of his imposing armor.
Memphis swung around. “What? No!”
“That was the deal, was it not? Your freedom in return for the young man.”
“No! I … look…” Her face flushed and she staggered back. “No, no, no.” She turned to Sebastian, nearly dropping to her knees. “Please, you have to listen to me. When we first met I was going to, but then everything changed.”
“That’s right, tell him what you want to clear your conscience,” the Master said.
“How could you do this to me?” Sebastian pushed her away. “I opened my heart to you, and this is how you treat me.”
“No, I promise,” she pleaded, “it’s not like that.”
“You wanted your ride to Denver, well, you got it.”
Lightning cracked across the sky and rain began to fall. The dust of the death plains streaked down his face. He looked at the Master. “I can beat you. You don’t scare me.”
The Master withdrew a shiny sword. It gleamed in contrast to Sebastian’s scarred and battle-damaged blade.
The two men crashed together, the swords ringing out in the silence. Sebastian managed to force the Master backward, and brought his sword down repeatedly. The Master swiped his blade from side to side, deflecting Sebastian’s onslaught. Sebastian pushed back, forcing the Master into one of the buildings. The swords smashed through the brittle and crumbling walls.
Sebastian smashed aside the Master’s gleaming blade, knocking the point into the ground. He stamped down on it, pinning it to the floor and forcing it out of the Master’s hand. He kicked out. The Master stumbled backward and through a wall. Sebastian grabbed him, spun him around, and forced him head first through another wall and back out into the square.
The Master fell to his knees. Sebastian walked around him, dragging the edge of his blade across the ground. He glanced up. The mob was silent, staring at the two dueling opponents.
Sebastian spoke to the Master. “Do they know you’re a tyrant? Do they know you’ve destroyed your government?”
“They don’t care. They do as they’re told.”
“But do they know?”
The Master staggered to his feet, visibly shaken by Sebastian’s supremacy. “L
ook at them. Under me, they have purpose and life. Under their chosen government, they had nothing. They hid themselves away in luxury while other people died.”
“But they didn’t choose this.”
“No, I made it happen,” the Master said. “They were lost, ignorant, and scared, living in their tiny little world, knowing that the next thing to come along could kill them. I gave them hope against the dark.”
“But they didn’t know that you were the dark.”
“They didn’t care. For a tiny flash of hope or inspiration, they’ll sell their souls. And because it’s the only hope they have, they’ll fight for it, against anyone I say is a threat or even disrespectful.”
“You can’t kill people for being disrespectful.”
“Disrespect comes from freedom of thought, which leads to debate, which leads to revolution. There will be no revolution, only the truth. And if I command it, it’ll be the truth.”
“That ends today. Fear me, because I’m a tesla.” Sebastian raised his hand and drew back his sword.
“I have no fear of you, tesla.”
The Master shouted, and several soldiers pushed through the crowd. They moved in tight formation, with professional precision. They stepped aside to reveal a collection of dirty and hunched young men. Sebastian recognized them.
“We already have many of these men,” the Master said, “and they’re no use to me. So weak and disappointing.”
“You’ve been abducting them?”
“Call it what you will. International trade is trade. I have better plans for these disposable washouts,” the Master said.
“I will fight for their freedom.” Sebastian swung the sword in front of him.
The Master clapped his hands. A soldier stepped up and passed him something wrapped in black cloth. The cloth slipped away as the Master took the sword in his hand. He held it up, and watched the light dance up and down the blade. “Old school,” the Master muttered.
Niels gasped.
The Master smiled at Sebastian. “That very clever man next to you invented this. Watch.”
A tesla was brought forward. He struggled against his captors, but like all the other teslas he was weak. The Master approached him and raised the sword. The tesla struggled and a blue sphere appeared around him. The Master thrust the sword through the force field and straight into the tesla. There was no resistance. Whatever powers the tesla might once have had were gone.
The Master turned toward Sebastian. He raised the gleaming sword then brought it down. He was surprised to see Sebastian parrying, expertly deflecting the blow. “So your tesla powers are not as weak as the others’.”
“No. I’m a mega-tesla.” He knocked the Master’s sword aside, spun and brought his own sword around. It thudded into the Master’s armor and knocked him sideways.
The Master roared, and charged at him. “If you have tesla powers, why don’t you use them?”
“Because every time I do, it hurts. And you’re not worth the pain.”
“I’ve seen the future. You cannot win.”
“I’m here to rewrite the future.”
“Not this time.” The Master kicked out at Sebastian, catching him on the leg and spinning him away.
As one, the group of teslas turned toward Sebastian. His mind became jumbled and he fought for clarity, only to find he was incapable of clear thought.
The Master laughed. “You know what they’re doing? We discovered that if teslas work together as a hive they could affect the electrical impulses in people’s minds. And pain is something you only feel in your mind. Pain unlike anything you have ever experienced. It might not work on you completely, but it’ll still have an impact.”
The line of withered men turned toward Sebastian. The constant stinging in his mind made his eyes water. The pain unrelentingly stabbed into him. He stumbled backward, but his mind spun out of control. Spots of bright light clouded his vision.
He tried again to clear his mind and unleash his own power. He knew it was going to hurt, but his situation was dire.
As the rain continued to fall, the Master slashed down with his sword. Sebastian felt an intense pain in his back, forcing him to the ground. He collapsed to his knees. He focused on the Master’s sword and searched for the electrons. He held out his hand to reverse the polarity and rip the sword away from him. Nothing happened. A wave of excruciating pain rolled over him, drowning him in its crippling wash.
The Master brought down the sword again and again, ferociously and recklessly. The intensity overwhelmed Sebastian; he retreated under the animalistic attack. Sebastian’s sword twisted, cracked, and shattered into pieces.
The Master’s sword sliced into Sebastian’s left arm, deeply and thoroughly, and the arm fell free. He howled in pain and collapsed.
Memphis’s disconsolate howling was lost in the rain, her tears ineffectual against the horror and loss before her.
The Master stepped back, breathing heavily. He looked down on the fallen figure and rammed his sword into the ground. He took a couple of unsteady steps before turning away to hide his fatigue and collect himself.
He walked over to Memphis and picked her up by her collar. He stared into her face. “I had such hope for you, apprentice. You’ve been … a disappointment.” He dropped her into the mud.
“What shall we do with him, Master?” Reeves called out.
“He’s of no use to me. Let him rot in the cells until his life has withered away and all hope is gone. Then burn him.”
“And the other two?”
The Master looked at Niels. “Keep the scientist alive. Do what you want with the girl. I will now head back to New York and fulfill my destiny.”
Reeves picked up Sebastian and slung him over his shoulder, grunting under the weight. He kicked the severed arm away, and a pack of dogs ran in and started to rip it apart. Sebastian’s sword lay broken on the ground. Niels hurriedly picked up the shattered remains. The pommel of a soldier’s sword cracked across his back, but he didn’t stop picking up the pieces. Just like Sebastian, it was broken and useless.
72
THE MASTER RUBBED his hands together. This was the moment he’d been waiting for, the pivot point. The telescreen flashed as his call was answered. One way or another, the future had been sealed. Either way, he would walk away the winner.
“I believe you said we’d never talk again,” the Peacemaker said.
“I lied.”
“What do you want?”
“Do you know I can fix her?” the Master said.
“You can’t. There’s only one person who can, and he’s missing.”
“Do you mean Niels, who is currently locked away in my cells?”
“As you just stated, you’re a liar.”
“Believe me. Give me Acacia and I’ll have her cured.”
“Never.”
“You’d rather her be a corpse by your side than living and breathing again? You’re a broken individual if you believe that’s some kind of life for her.”
“I’d let her go in a heartbeat if it was anyone but you.”
“Now who’s the liar?” the Master said. “Somewhere in that dark heart of yours resides the truth, and it’ll destroy you.”
“It is I who will destroy you.”
“You’d better be careful with your threats,” the Master said. “The accord is over. And from what I can see, your armies are squabbling again. It’s almost a perfect time for someone to attack—if there was someone with an army.”
“This isn’t about the girl. It’s your guilt playing out because of what you did to Mother,” the Peacemaker spat.
There was a deathly silence from the Master. “We agreed never to talk about that. Any scrap of compassion I had for you—because of family—is now gone.”
“What compassion? You were so quick to step into the shoes of that murderous, backstabbing monster. And how he chose that … that—”
“Be careful how you describe her. I see your emotions getti
ng the better of you again.”
“This is your fault,” the Peacemaker said.
“My, how your deceit has twisted your memories. You need to watch the footage again,” the Master replied coolly.
“I watch it every day. The words are burned into my brain. Just like his actions when he walked out the door. He was a betrayer. Hateful and duplicitous.”
“He was a glorious warrior who realized the error of his ways. He saw the truth.”
“Hah! The truth prevails. You didn’t see the truth, what happened to Mother after he betrayed her. I had to live with it, until you—”
“What happened to her,” the Master mimicked. “You forget how she treated that poor man. He offered his life selflessly every day, and she treated him as less than dirt.”
Had the comms call gone well? The Peacemaker didn’t know. It was always hard to see behind his brother’s impenetrable mask. He had a simpleton’s mind that was hard to derail once an idea had taken hold. There was only one path forward, and he had always known that one day it would come to this. The past had arrived.
“Christopher,” the Peacemaker called.
“Yes.”
“Play the full footage.”
“This contradicts your earlier instructions.”
The Peacemaker tapped away on the keyboard.
“Override granted,” Christopher intoned. “Are you sure you want to continue?”
“Yes. I need to be angry.”
And the footage played …
He stands next to the great tropical plants. The bitter winter winds roar past the window, frosting in the cold air. Snow tumbles past in the blizzard.
Acacia stands facing him but staring at the ground. “Please, let me go. I’m sorry, but … I love him. It’s always been him,” she whispers.
“How dare you do this to me after all I’ve done for you,” the Peacemaker shouts.
“You never did it for me,” she says. “It was always for yourself. I / will never / love you.”
“Stop it. Quiet!” He swings, and the back of his hand smashes against her face. She flies back, crashing through the glass wall.
