He set his troops to carving a path for Gran Mid through the otherwise impenetrable forest of still-standing corpses and allowed his attention to drift to Gran Pham. He stared at the head and had a thought.
“Can you assimilate specialized Vine ganglia?” Jav said.
“If they are similar in principle to Artifacts, it may be possible,” the Voice said.
8
TITAN SQUAD
SPECIALIST KAPLER
10,923.025.1200
Planet 1612 (Loss)
Root Palace
The Titan Squad was assembled in the war room. Forbis Vays, Brin Karvasti, Ban Kapler, and Spaier Waice occupied one side of the glass-topped oval table. Opposite them sat Gilf Scanlan. Next to Scanlan was a compact holographic screen displaying Icsain. Witchlan stood at the head of the table, next to another, larger holographic screen showing the Emperor. While the Emperor spoke, Witchlan seemed completely devoid of life.
“First General Jav Holson has been compromised by the enemy,” the Emperor said. “Jav Holson has betrayed the Empire.”
Waice recognized the phrasing from his interview with Brin—almost a year ago now—and was not surprised to see that no one really showed any significant reaction. Why would they? This news had been expected, just buried, and along with it came a combination of compulsions: they were forbidden to consider anything Holson might say or any rationale he might offer, they were forbidden to give up or accept their own defeat if they encountered him. These were supported by the promise of wish fulfillment contingent on beating Holson.
“Jav Holson is an enemy of the Empire and must be stopped,” the Emperor continued. “Our two outermost Perimeters have been lost, the decks destroyed.”
“My brother,” Ban said. “What’s happened to my brother?”
“Unknown. A spot communications check with the 4th Perimeter bunker this morning at 0500 failed. Follow-up tests with the 3rd Perimeter bunker similarly failed. Continued communications failures and incomplete test jumps have confirmed the loss of both bunkers. We can only assume that Jav Holson is advancing, on the enemy’s behalf, back towards the Root Palace. Forbis Vays. You and your Squad are to be responsible for intercepting Holson.
“Icsain. Gilf Scanlan. You are to maintain your current positions, offering aid to the Titan Squad if Holson should near your territorial lines.”
“Defeat Jav Holson and your fondest wish, whatever it may be, will be granted. That is all.”
There it was. Waice watched several pairs of eyes glaze over as the Emperor’s words had their impact. Everyone’s fondest wish was his or her own. In his interview, Brin had urged him to think carefully about his fondest wish, to visualize it, to imagine all the possibilities if it were to come true. She’d done this in a suggestive way, though not in the manner required by her assignment, he guessed. She’d run her finger down his jaw, down his chest, and further. He’d done nothing to reciprocate, of course, but if Vays had known, it might have explained that first sparring match.
He wondered about Brin and her motivation. Had she received some other conditioning, or was she completely comfortable turning on one of the Empire’s most valuable assets? And was this the first Vays consciously knew of what was planned for Holson? Waice thought so. Vays was many things, but he wasn’t subtle. If he’d harbored any animosity for Holson, he wouldn’t have hidden it.
“Waice,” Vays said, “I want you to get out to what’s left of Raus’s jump deck to investigate.”
Waice refocused his attention, noted that the Emperor’s holographic screen had shut down and that Witchlan was no longer present. “Me, sir?”
“Yes, you. Do you have a problem with that?”
“No, sir. I just thought—”
“You can start thinking when you are First Specialist,” Vays said, turning to address Ban, who looked like he was vibrating in his skin, anxious and wild-eyed. “Ban, you need to calm down. You’re no good to anyone like this.”
“My brother might be dead. If he’s killed my brother. . . How could General Holson do this?”
Vays shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. If your brother is dead, though, it just means that Holson is one step closer to the Root Palace and to another one of us.”
Waice had to force himself to remain silent. There was no proof that Jav had betrayed them, or that he was still alive. There were no reasons, except for the ones the Empire had created, to even begin to explain why Holson might have turned. Finally, there was no proof that Raus was dead by Jav’s, or anyone else’s, hand. No one thought to raise these questions. They’d been conditioned not to, but it drove Waice a little crazy to see things unfolding the way they were.
“I’ll go right away,” Waice said. He rose and walked towards the personnel jump deck, placing a reassuring hand on Ban’s shoulder as he passed.
“Can you negotiate the conditions out there with your Black Light Rail?” Ban said.
Waice paused, considered. “I think so,” he said then glanced to Vays only because Ban’s question was a valid one and Ban’s Dark Speed was better suited to reconnaissance than was his own Black Light Rail.
Vays stared back at him. “Then get going,” he said, losing his temper.
“Yes, sir.”
Waice stepped onto the deck, and despite the somber mood, found himself having to suppress a bitter laugh. Over the course of transit, he’d found Vays’s temperament, at least regarding him, to be increasingly ridiculous.
He jumped to the deck closest to the Tether Launch bay the Generals had used to establish their bunkers. Tether Launch was still impossible, but he needed height and a view clear of physical obstacles to plot his course. The mist he could ignore for the most part, but he wouldn’t be able to see much.
The bay was unattended but the systems were still up and running. At the control podium, he set the bay doors to open and noted the coordinates for Raus’s launch. He went Dark as Vays contacted him through his Artifact.
“Waice, is Kapler with you?”
“No, sir, he’s not.”
“Damn it!” Vays barked. “Get out there and find him.”
“Find him, sir?”
“I’m pretty sure he’s gone off on his own to look for Holson. Your assignment stands, but try to find Ban and keep him from getting himself killed. His sloppy mindset is dangerous.”
“Yes, sir. I should be at the requested location in moments.” Waice tuned out any further communication. These circumstances worked perfectly for him, and he wasn’t interested in anything else Vays might have to say. Vays had established no timetable and Waice wanted it to keep it that way, at least until he was out of communications range. He would do as he was told and look out for Ban—he certainly didn’t want Ban getting needlessly killed—but he had to consider the possibility that he wasn’t coming back, not for a while. He had to talk to Holson.
Waice stood at the open bay doors. In his Darkened state, he was sheathed in what appeared to be a lavender bodysuit, with living electric blue swirls running up his legs, his torso, to the top of his broad-visored, bulbous helmet, that was, he did not know, very reminiscent of Hilene Tanser’s. His eyes were not visible through the visor, but it allowed him to see through the mist better than most of the Palace’s instruments. He pushed a series of buttons at the side of his helmet, translating the coordinates from the Tether Launch computer into language his Artifact, the Whirl Plate, understood while visually confirming his trajectory. The Whirl Plate, which formed the buckle of his belt, gave the appearance of depth and spun with increasing speed, affecting the cycling electric blue swirls similarly as he jumped from the bay doors. He hung in the air for a moment as his body fell in line with his planned trajectory, then became a purple flash with a corkscrewing blue tail.
He hadn’t boasted about his arrival time. Within seconds, he came to an abrupt stop, resuming his human outline, and dropped from the hundred-meter height into the midst of Raus’s crippled, still-burning bunker. It only took a cursory
look to confirm that all travel from this spot led in one direction. There was clear evidence of Gran Pham’s having been here, and of the passage of a great many troops, but all of them had proceeded west towards the 4th Perimeter and, most likely, Jav Holson.
• • •
Ban Kapler watched Waice disappear from the deck and continued to grind his teeth. Was the First specialist really going to send Waice out there instead of him?
“First Specialist Vays,” Ban said, “please reconsider sending me. He’s my brother.”
“Ban,” Vays said, placing his hands on Ban’s shoulders, “it’s because he’s your brother that you’re staying behind. I want you to jump to Icsain’s bunker and stand by.”
Ban shook his head. He glanced at Brin as Vays turned to address the image of Icsain across the table.
“Icsain,” Vays said, “prepare to receive Ban.”
“I think the young man has decided on his own course of action. First Specialist, sir.”
“What?” Vays said, trying to ignore Icsain’s sarcastic finishing barb.
“See for yourself,” Icsain said, gesturing with a wave of his hand.
Vays spun around to find that Ban was indeed gone, though the jump deck had gone unused since Waice’s departure. He looked at Brin who shrugged and wore an inscrutable smirk. He sighed dramatically and called Waice through his Artifact.
• • •
Ban Kapler was submerged in a shadow sea, traveling at Dark Speed. As far as he knew, he was the only living thing within it. Though he had nothing to fear within what was essentially his own personal dimension, he was Dark with the power of the Carving Knife, and was hardly discernible from the shadows through which he drifted. In his Darkened state, Ban was covered in what appeared to be a tattered black poncho. His head was encased in a black shell with a wide all-around brim jutting from just above slit eyes. Though impossible to tell, he held the Carving Knife under his poncho, ready.
Above him, like looking up through the surface of a pool of water, the terrain of Planet 1612 flashed by at a dizzying pace, but he missed nothing. He passed Icsain’s bunker and arrived at the smoldering remains of his brother’s in seconds. The terrain between showed no sign of Raus or Jav. Once or twice he thought he caught a glimpse of something curious, something potentially out of place, but both times whatever it was was gone as soon as he saw it. Large insects? Not men in stylized armor, but actual insects, and extremely large? Maybe.
He moved forward, slowing, but only relatively, since his passage would ultimately be near instantaneous, at least in real time and to outside observers. The path Raus and his army had taken was clear. The tall steppeland grasses had been beaten down to bare earth in a wide, unbroken column that stretched for kilometers. After following this course for some time, he slowed, not to scrutinize for signs of his brother, but out of fear that he might find him.
He slowed further as he came upon the corpse army his brother had led. None of them moved. All remained stock still, standing in place, waiting for orders that Ban was starting to believe would never come. There was smoke up ahead, which, as he drew closer, he could see rose from an area that had been burned clear of corpse soldiers. Intermixed with those still standing were inert skeleton troops as well.
He nearly swallowed his heart when he saw that the main source of smoke was what was left of Gran Pham and another fire that burned despite its apparent lack of fuel. Movement near Gran Pham caught his eye and for a brief, fleeting instant hope swelled in his breast.
But drawing still closer, he could see that it was Jav Holson, tinkering with Gran Pham’s decapitated head, and he suddenly knew for certain that the strange fire burning off the bare ground nearby was all that was left of his brother. Anger and hate bloomed inside him, blackening his waning hope.
Ban circled with deliberate precision, positioning himself himself so that he was directly below Gran Pham’s head, then shot forth, a lancing diagonal, from the shadow it cast, dragging the Carving Knife across Jav’s side, just below his ribs on the right. He landed upon the ruin of Pham’s burned out carcass and held the Carving Knife before him.
Jav reflexively gripped the reopened wound at his side, tracked Ban to his perch, and watched as the blade of the Carving Knife pulsed/resonated/flashed. Blood splashed out from the fresh wound, pumping through his clutching fingers. Other cuts received from Biggs, which had recently healed due to the influence of the Kaiser Bones, opened again, as if unzipped, and spouted blood. Jav dropped to one knee from the sudden explosive loss.
Ban stepped from Pham’s angular shoulder, and descended into the shadow below, where he was swallowed whole.
• • •
Jav was starting to hyperventilate from blood loss, but managed to compose himself.
“A prolonged engagement is not sustainable,” the Voice of a Hundred Heroes said.
Jav snorted. “Just fix me the best you can.”
There was no mistaking Ban Kapler and his Dark Speed. Though the situation didn’t look good, Jav knew that Ban’s ability to enter shadow relied on Approaching Infinity, which meant that the fight wasn’t over yet. He hoped to avoid a fight altogether, if possible, but he would have to lure Ban from his hiding place.
Jav felt some of the more superficial wounds closing. The blood loss had slowed dramatically, and this enabled him to concentrate fully on anticipating Ban’s next exit point. He backed away from Pham’s head to give himself more room to move and allowed his spatial sense to radiate out. All was still except for crackling flames and billowing smoke. Nothing could come near him without his knowing, and knowing was tantamount to countering.
He registered a disturbance from behind, turned with blinding speed to block the Carving Knife with his forearm Bones. He could have followed up with a strike, but refrained.
“Ban! Talk to me. Let me explain,” he shouted after the flash of black.
Ban arced past him, sank into shadow, and disappeared again.
Jav didn’t know if Ban could hear him while in shadow, but called out anyway. “Ban, please. Come out of the shadows and talk to me.”
Almost immediately, Ban came for him again, but again wasn’t fast enough, despite his stealth, to lay his blade upon Jav. This time, Jav took Ban’s leading wrist, and yanked it in the opposite direction, hurling him into the midst of corpse soldiers. Ban careened upside-down into the troops, but found his feet instantly and retreated into shadow.
Jav decided that he needed a captive audience if any conversations were to take place. He focused again and waited. Ban rose up from below, seeking to split him in two from groin to crown. Jav stepped back deftly, took hold of Ban’s rising Knife hand then his other, gripping both wrists with irresistible force. Jav held Ban’s arms out and drove a front kick into his midsection that nearly knocked him unconscious.
“You will hear what I have to say, Ban.”
“You killed my brother! You’re a traitor,” Ban sputtered.
“I’ve opened my eyes, Ban. We’re all killers, but we can stop. We don’t have to kill for the Emperor.”
“My brother!”
“Yes!” Jav cried, matching Ban’s fervor. “I killed my friend who would have killed me. Would you bow down and die? Brother or not, would you bow down and just die?”
Ban didn’t answer, but continued to struggle against Jav’s grip.
Jav twisted Ban’s arms to lock the elbows and pushed him a few meters back and to the ground.
“I’m sorry about your brother, Ban. He was my friend. But what the Empire is doing is wrong. Without Shades, the Emperor cannot continue. We have to stop. We have to stop him.”
Ban’s shoulders started to shake. Jav thought he might be weeping, but it was laughter, not tears, that came forth.
“Jav Holson cowed by the enemy,” Ban said. “The great Jav Holson, hero of the Empire. My brother always spoke highly of you. The histories speak highly of you. You were a role model to thousands. To me! What a joke.”
&
nbsp; “I never asked to be a role model or for anyone to speak highly of me. I’m a murderer, Ban. And I’m trying to keep you from becoming the same.”
“By murdering your friends. Yes, I see how this is a compelling argument.”
“I told you, Ban, he would have killed me. When I talk of murder, I don’t mean your brother, or the Loss Commanders, or the soldiery we’ve gone up against—though some might argue this. Those who fight have chosen to do so. Some are equipped with the means, some are not. I speak of the men, women, and children who have no means to defend themselves, who tend homes and fields and die as collateral or ultimately through infection.”
“You would have us save them?”
“Without Shades, the frontier goes nowhere.”
“What does it matter anyway? We are here. The Place with Many Doors is ours for the taking.”
“No, not yet. You can help me stop any further advance.”
“And why would I do this?”
“Because you’re a good person. I’ve known you since before your cure, Ban. I got to know you from your brother’s stories, and then by observing you personally. I haven’t been myself for a long time, but nothing has been lost on me. I know you’re a good person.”
“And are you a good person?”
Jav looked away, unable to hold Ban’s gaze. “No. I’m responsible for the deaths of billions and I hate myself for it.”
“The mighty Jav Holson felled by something so ephemeral as conscience. It’s enough to make one weep. Or laugh out loud. ” Ban shook his head. “I never listened to the terrible things Cov Merasec said about you. I don’t think he got all the details right, but maybe his final assessment of you is essentially accurate: if in the end you’re cowed by guilt, sympathizing with prey, then your legend amounts to little more than hype. I want nothing to do with you or your new mission.
“Guilt is useless. I see no reason to change the eleven-thousand-year course the Empire has taken, or see it come to an end. First, we are predators. The Emperor must feed, the Empire must continue. Second—and this is perhaps most important—you killed my brother!”
The Loss Queen (Approaching Infinity Book 5) Page 15
