The Phoenix Fallacy_Book III_Magnus

by Jon Sourbeer,

  The Praetor shook his head woefully, and Keats left without further comment.

  Hawkes slammed his hand on the table and stood up.

  “Colonel Hawkes? Are you going somewhere?” The Praetor asked calmly.

  Hawkes froze, and then grimaced. “No. Sir.” A moment later, the grimace disappeared and he sat down, “Merely felt the need to stretch my legs, sir.”

  The Praetor titled his head, “Then let us plan our next moves quickly.” He leaned over the table, “The Corporations are certain to jump on this opportunity for expansion after years of stagnation. They will see this as a boon, and ignore the dangers. So we will have to act in a way only we can, hitting Delacroix directly, at Phoenix.

  “But do we really want to stop him?” Marcus asked. The room became quiet. Marcus motioned to the door. “The Corporations hoard power. They treat people like property. Delacroix is about to cripple their leadership and their armies. So what if he seizes control? From Norm’s story it sounds like he did more for Titan than the rest of the Executors ever did. Who cares about his motivations?” Marcus pointed to Hawkes, “Why should we risk someone like Keats, to save those who wouldn’t give her, give any of us a second thought?”

  The Praetor shook his head, “It’s not that simple, lad.”

  Marcus nodded, “I know that, sir. But the Corporations need change. We all know the current system can’t hold. And Delacroix won’t have control of us, or the other legions. With Delacroix’s power play, we could unite the Legions. Use what we’ve discovered about cryonics and Nanytes to help level the playing field. And while he’s assuming power, he might even hire us to help maintain order. Asserting control like that would be no easy feat, even with his army. If the Corporations stop fighting each other, maybe we can stop our need for missions. Stop our need to bury our friends,” he looked at Janus, “our families.”

  Janus studied Marcus. There was truth to his words. The slums had taught him that. But despite his hatred for Cerberus, for the Corporations, he felt twisted up inside. The Corporations had to change. People suffered every day. But what about Marcus? Janus eyes flickered to Celes. Not every Trooper was evil. Just like the regular men and women in Norm’s story. His eyes wandered the room. Like the men and women here. His gaze settled on Clara. She did not fight battles or wars. She did not participate in plots to control the world. Up until a few days ago, she merely survived as best she could.

  “Thought about this a lot, have you?” Wouris growled. Janus started from his reverie.

  Marcus nodded carefully, “Since the outpost assault. When many of our friends didn’t come home, I’ve wondered about our place here. Generations suffering to sustain a system that needs to die.”

  “And you are certain that Delacroix will improve that system?”

  Marcus looked Wouris in the eye, “Delacroix doesn’t want to rule a broken system. He wants to stand above the greatest one to ever rule humanity.”

  “And how will he accomplish such a thing?” Wouris asked. “By simply willing it? We both know how. By making choices. By making sacrifices. Sacrifices not everyone will want to go along with.”

  “How is that different from now? How is that different from us? Our orders?” Marcus demanded.

  Wouris motioned to the door, “You can leave any time.” Marcus grimaced. “You have a choice to fight. Others don’t. The Corporate system is broken. Many of the Executors are without compassion. Even more are ill-equipped to lead humanity to a brighter future. But what happens when Delacroix rules? What happens when he heads to Medusa?”

  Marcus looked away, and Wouris leaned in, “When he decides that the best course is to let half the population starve? Or give them the Phoenix poison? What will you do then? What if he does it to our families and friends we left behind? Will you help us?”

  Wouris studied his face carefully, “Because it will be too late. We know what happens in that battle. We saw it the Titan mining outpost. We lost. Against a fraction of his troops, we lost. Because, for the last 20 years, he has been planning how to fight us. To fight everyone.’

  ‘You’re right, we don’t have to fight. We don’t have to risk our family here to face him. We owe the Corporations nothing. But eventually we will have to risk something. Because your ‘better life’ will come at a cost. It will come at the cost of choice. Of freedom. Do you think we will have that under Delacroix? Do you think anyone will have it? Do you really believe that the only hope for change within the Corporations is a war that will decimate millions of lives and hand over all of our choices to a selfish, arrogant dictator?”

  She paused, letting her words sink in, and Marcus pounded his fists upon the table. “And are we supposed to just wait for something to happen? To hope that our patience is rewarded?”

  Wouris shook her head, “Something is happening. No matter what we do, a few days from now, the world will have changed.”

  Marcus stood, “And so we wait. Protecting our way of life. It sounds like we are simply selfishly guarding our own position, just like the Executors. Just like Delacroix. Maybe we can’t let him win, but are we just as afraid of change as everyone else? We survive off the Corporations. Our livelihood depends on their system.”

  Wouris cocked her head. “Does it? That is the advantage of freedom. You have the ability to choose how you live in the world. So, today, I’m choosing to fight. Because the world is about to change, one way or another, and I don’t want to let Delacroix be the one to decide it for all of us.”

  Celes stood up and looked at Marcus, “If he succeeds, the Corporations will be thrown into chaos, and millions will die. Even Troopers have families. The Executors are far from perfect, but suddenly removing them will be like pulling the rug from underneath millions of citizens within the middle levels.” Marcus met her eyes with doubt.

  “Outskirters like us prob’bly won’t be able ta keep hiding with Delacroix desperate for resources, either,” Lyn lamented. Ramirez nodded.

  “I assure you, Marcus, that no matter what your reasons are, and whatever he once was, Magnus is no longer the change you want,” Norm added softly.

  Hawkes put a hand on Marcus’ shoulder, and Marcus looked at him in surprise. After a moment, Marcus sat down, staring at the table.

  “What that change will be is up to us,” the Praetor interjected. “We can all have different reasons for going. We don’t all have to feel the same way about it. That is the value of our way of life.” Marcus looked up. “But I want everyone to be in agreement: Delacroix must be stopped.”

  Around the table, heads nodded. Slowly, Marcus nodded as well. All eyes turned to Janus. “And what about you?” Hawkes asked.

  “Are you fine with taking down your father?” Wouris asked.

  Janus looked at the group in shock. He hadn’t really thought about it. It had seemed obvious that he would need to stop him. He held no affection for the man. And he certainly wasn’t going to let his friends go in alone. And while the Corporations needed to change, he certainly didn’t think his father was the one to do it. He looked at Clara as he spoke. “I have no intention of letting Delacroix hurt anyone who is a part of my family.”

  Wouris nodded in approval and stood, “I suppose that means I should get on that second Longboat then?” Janus looked at her in surprise.

  The Praetor spoke, “Safe travels, Sergeant, though you may find some resistance along the—”

  Wouris cut in, “Don’t worry, Praetor. The other Legions will know, even if they don’t act on it.”

  The Praetor nodded, “Good luck, Sergeant.” Wouris saluted, turned on her heel, and left the room.

  “What now, Sir?” Celes asked the Praetor.

  “Now we plan for what we will do if the Corporations and Legions cannot be swayed,” the Praetor said solemnly.

  “Do ya really think that could happen?” Lyn asked skeptically, mouth agape.

  The Praetor looked solemn, “Would you believe that someone would be willing to sacrifice millions withou
t a second thought? That the largest army ever assembled is just waiting to wake up? Could you believe an Executor is willing to risk his Corporation, his position, his legacy, and his life for a chance at more power? Do you really think that those who are slowly allowing humanity to stagnate into oblivion will believe any of that?”

  The room was silent.

  “So what do we do?” Marcus asked, looking troubled.

  Norm stood up, “We go back to where it all began.”

  The Praetor nodded, “To Phoenix. Where it all began.”

  Chapter 39: Division and Determination

  The days following their dark revelation were a blur, and yet dragged on endlessly to Janus. Every moment he wondered if they were already too late.

  Valhalla ran at full power, making haste towards Phoenix while running production at full tilt. Graham, Chiles, and their assistants worked without rest. Spare weapons, supplies, ammunition – all of it needed to be manufactured, maintained, and made ready.

  The Praetor gave constant reassurance that the Corporations couldn’t mobilize faster than Valhalla, but that couldn’t keep the growing sense of dread from his gut. Magnus was a formidable foe, and every moment gave him greater power.

  There was no word from Keats, and Hawkes became more surly every day. But he kept everything moving at a good clip, as a result. He barked orders constantly, and the adepts surrounding him learned that the easiest way to raise his ire was to allow the flow of work to slack.

  Wouris was similarly silent. Not even the Praetor could tell exactly how long she would be gone. There were fewer Legions, but she would have to find them. And some would surely not be amenable to her. Would she find even one before the battle started?

  Every day, Janus would drop, exhausted, onto the floor of his room, only to rise bleary-eyed the next. He knew he needed more sleep. He knew he had to prepare mentally. It must have been obvious to the others, but he couldn’t tell if Celes’ concern, Clara’s fretting, or Marcus’ scowl was because of him, or the mission. Every night was a battle in his mind.

  Dreams of his father. Dreams of his mother. Dreams of death and destruction and misery, where one moment Magnus stood atop the Corporations laughing, and the next, it was Janus. Dreams where victory and defeat were paid in equal measure, with the empty eyes of Celes staring back at him.

  On the third night of restless, tortured sleep, a knock upon his door tore him from his nightmares and he woke to a drenching sweat.

  “Janus?” The voice sounded softly.

  “Ce-Celes?” Janus yawned. “What? What time is it?” His clock read 0314. Less than two hours to revelry.

  “Janus, I wanted to talk to you, and I couldn’t sleep,” her voice was muffled through the door.

  She jumped back a step as he slid open the door.

  “So you thought that you should keep me up as well?” Janus said sleepily.

  Celes looked away, “Oh…sorry, I was just out here and I thought I heard you moving around your room.” She fidgeted nervously and Janus bit his lip, regretting his words.

  He rubbed his eyes, “No, no. I wasn’t sleeping well. I’m glad you got me up, I wasn’t getting much rest anyway,” he stifled another yawn. Shaking himself awake, he said, “Come on, maybe the mess is open.”

  Celes smiled.

  As they walked along the silent corridors of Valhalla, Janus stared at the bright stars twinkling through the sturdy windows. His trip back through the slums had reminded him of just how far he had come.

  “I never thanked you the other day,” Celes said quietly.

  “For what?”

  “For saving my life. For carrying me all that way.”

  “Yes, you did. I remember. Besides, as Wouris said, any one of us would have done the same.”

  “Perhaps… but you always seem to be…well…” Celes voice trailed off.

  Janus looked uncomfortably at the stars outside. “I haven’t done anything that the others wouldn’t do. I am sure that Lyn, or Ramirez, or…Marcus… would gladly have carried you back to Valhalla.”

  Celes studied him. “You are a great deal like him, I can tell,” she said, stopping in the hall.

  Janus looked back, confused. “Like who? Marcus?”

  Celes shook her head, “No. Your father.”

  “What?” Janus yelped.

  Celes motioned for him to keep his voice down, but was smiling the whole time, “Oh, don’t get upset. You know I wouldn’t insult you. Despite his shortcomings, your father has many admirable qualities. You can tell from the way Norm describes him. Your father is strong… determined… brave… clever… charismatic… a born leader. And from what Norm described regarding his affection for your mother, it sounds like deep down, there is some part of a decent man inside. But it is all lost because he has one fatal flaw: pride. Pride has taken all those admirable qualities and turned them into something terrible. And you, Janus, you have it too.”

  Janus looked at her with narrowed eyes – arrogant? She thinks I’m arrogant like my father?

  She put a hand on his face, her eyes sad. “And here it is.” She gently turned his face towards the mirrored glass, lowering her head from him as she did so.

  Janus was startled to see the expression on his face. It was dark, just as he envisioned his father’s face in his dreams. Did I really look at Celes that way?

  “All it took was for you to be called your father’s son,” she said. Celes smiled sadly, still keeping her head down. “Why do you get so tense when I mention Marcus? Are you not his friend? Both of you are so competitive. Sometimes, I think you two would rather be bitter enemies. Arrogance is powerful, and destructive. Well, Janus, the next time you feel the need to demonstrate your superiority, just remember what happened to your father, and those closest to him.”

  She turned away and walked back towards the barracks. Janus watched her go in silence, feeling like a precious moment had been lost. There was nothing left to say.

  Janus walked slowly towards the mess. He had felt awkward going back to bed and following Celes, and frankly, he probably wouldn’t have slept anyways. Celes…

  “Little distracted, are we?”

  Janus almost jumped in surprise. Marcus had appeared from almost nowhere. “Hey, Marcus.”

  “You’ll need to be more alert than that if you plan on surviving this battle,” Marcus grimaced.

  “Just preoccupied.”

  “Do you think that the officers would take that as an excuse?” Marcus responded curtly.

  “Probably not,” Janus answered, with a forced smile.

  “Can’t sleep?” Marcus asked. He didn’t wait for a response, “Neither can I. I passed Celes. She seemed distracted, herself. Pretty sure she was headed back to bed, but at least she said hello.”

  Janus was too tired to go for the bait, “Probably a good decision. Still plenty of time to catch some shuteye.”

  The main hall was still. Even the fountains had been turned off to give a tiny boost of extra power to the other systems. The Eye of ODIN was dark and the tree was quiet.

  “Ahhhh, at this point, I think I would rather just have a leisurely breakfast,” Marcus said. “Besides, going back to bed now will probably just make it tougher to wake up later.”

  Janus shrugged indifferently, “Perhaps. But it’s still her choice.” The words resonated in his mind: her choice…

  Marcus gave him a quizzical look, “Maybe you should consider going back to bed.”

  “Why is that?” Janus asked with a yawn.

  “Well, Lieutenant, some of expect you to be in peak condition when you lead,” Marcus said.

  “Hey, you’re not sleeping right now either,” Janus said defensively. Marcus stopped in front of him.

  “I’m not the leader. You have a responsibility to get some rest.” Marcus poked him in the chest. The great tree of ODIN stretched itself above them.

  “And what about you? You not worth much if you can’t think straight,” Janus shot back, he was having
trouble reading Marcus. Janus really did just want to go to bed.

  Marcus laughed confidently, “I’m not worried about myself. I am concerned about my squad-mates. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to them.”

  “Well, they, at least, will be fully rested and able to follow orders,” Janus joked with a smile.

  Marcus face became serious, “It won’t do them much good if your orders get them killed.”

  Janus stopped smiling. Marcus wasn’t joking. Celes’s voice rang in his head, just remember what happened to your father…and those closest to him. Janus looked him in the eye, “I won’t let anything happen to anyone on my team. Not to Lyn, not to Ramirez, not to Celes, not to you.”

  “Well, that’s good. Tell that to Alexis and Hastings,” Marcus said coldly.

  Janus’ temperature surged, “What’s your problem, Marcus? If this is about my rank…” Both of you are so competitive…arrogant…

  “Don’t insult me,” Marcus said. “This is about you, and your recklessness. You abandoned your squad during the first mission so that you could check out a hunch. You jumped into that Cerberus base without any sort of exit strategy. You led us directly into a trap at Cerberus because you were so eager to see your mother. Now, you don’t even have the decency to admit that you were wrong. You put people in danger without a second thought. You are so damn proud of yourself, it makes me sick.”

  Janus had had enough of Marcus’ tirade, but he was exhausted and Celes’ voice was still ringing in his head, “Well, at least I have troops skilled enough that I can rely on them to pull through even after I mess up.”

  “Yeah, well, unfortunately, not everyone sees what I see,” Marcus moved closer, his greater height in evidence. “We both know that the Praetor will have his favorite Adept assault Phoenix. Some of your troops will blindly follow you wherever you go. And all of them are important to me. I may not have grown up in the slums, but at least you had a mother. At least you had a chance to see her again. Life in the factories isn’t pleasant, especially when your siblings aren’t even old enough to work. You may consider this place a blessing, but the only reason I’m here is that I showed up some Overlords’ son in training, and now I don’t have a place to go back to, and no way to know what’s happening. I’m not going to lose Celes or anyone else because of you.”