Blushing a bright tomato red, Hayden put in, “Mortifying.”
“One’a us oughta stay behind with you,” Mordecai said. “‘Cause obviously, accidents happen.”
“I’ll stay. Can’t be that bad. Besides,” Gideon twirled his knife around his fingers and grinned toothily down at the Vee, “he might still need persuadin’.”
“Alright, me and Gid, then.”
After snapping her fingers to get their attention, Nivy pointed to herself. Reece didn’t have a problem with her staying. It didn’t get much safer than sitting in a room with Nivy and an armed Gideon—provided they were on your side.
Ten minutes later, Reece, sitting between Gideon and Nivy, faced the Vee on what felt for the first time like even ground. They were all under the influence of the airborne compulsor that Reece had unstopped from its bottle after Hayden and Mordecai had gone, but the Vee was clearly feeling its effects most keenly. He didn’t know the trick was in not thinking about everything you had to hide. His black eyes kept twitching like they were reading a datascope’s memory archive.
“Let’s start out simple. Do you have a name?”
The Vee’s adam’s apple bobbed as he tried to swallow his answer. “Yes,” he hissed contemptuously, against his will.
“What is it?”
“One Thousand Two Hundred and One.”
“Your name is One Thousand Two Hundred and One?”
“There are only numbers to distinguish the one from the many.”
“Does he have’ta talk like that? It spooks me out,” Gideon complained beneath his breath before clearing his throat. “I mean, it’s annoyin’, is all.”
Reece heard a grunt and assumed Nivy had elbowed him. “That’s a mouthful. You’ll have to make due with a nickname. Oh-one. Owon, if you will.”
There was a long pause as the Vee dropped his eyes to his lap and closed them as if in meditation. Reece leaned back, and folding his arms over his chest, waited. He tried to breathe shallowly, but he could still taste the compulsor on his tongue, like an aftertaste of sugar water.
“Kill us now, Reece Sheppard,” the Vee designated Owon finally whispered. “If you have an ounce of pity, you will. There is no life after betrayal for The Veritas.”
Again the words life and Veritas mingled strangely in Reece’s mind. Maybe somewhere behind those depthless eyes, there was a humanness the serum hadn’t touched. Or maybe the Vee was just playing him.
“I’m going to start asking questions now. You can try to fight the compulsor, or you can—”
“We hope we are among the brothers who bring you to the brink, Reece Sheppard. A broken bone is but a small sampling of that pain. We regret that we could not do you more harm with the chance we had.”
“Alright then, your choice. Who controls The Veritas?”
The Vee’s forehead crinkled as all of his concentration went into deflecting the question. His jaw went taut; his long, spidery fingers curled around the edge of his chair and clutched it angrily.
“Owon,” Reece persisted, “who controls The Veritas?”
“Headmaster…Charles…Eldritch.”
Reece hadn’t realized, but his heart had been thudding unevenly, anxious. Now it did a merry skip out of pure relief. It wasn’t as if this news was actually good at all—but bogrosh, did it ever feel nice to get a straight answer, no strings attached.
“Since when?”
“Our conception,” Owon gave haltingly as a bead of sweat slipped down his sharply-boned face. “Thirty-five years past.”
“He created you?”
“Yes.”
“To help him get a foot in the door of Parliament…or to keep the people suppressed…” The Vee said nothing, so Reece appended, “Is that why he created you?”
His teeth clenched together, Owon raised his head, found Reece’s brown eyes, and stared into them fiercely. “He created us to uphold peace and truth, to seek out those—”
“Well, that ain’t what you do,” Gideon snapped, leaning into Reece’s peripheral vision. “What you do is tromp around and abuse folk and leave them with nightmares’a you comin’ to—”
“That is part of our purpose.” The Vee was losing the cool grip he had on his voice, and sounded all the more frightening for it. “Fear is the motivator we use, a tool of power. A man who has nightmares of being punished will avoid being caught in the wrong at all costs. The easiest way for him to do so is to not do wrong to begin with.”
“Do you really believe that?” Reece asked before Gideon could get in another angry word. “You think that’s your purpose? You think that’s why Eldritch created you?”
“Yes. Justice is our highest priority.”
It seemed that unless Owon had broken through the compulsor’s spell, he really believed that. Reece’s dilemma took on a horrible new light.
“Don’t you think it’s hypocritical to claim justice as your highest priority when Eldritch has done so much wrong to get to his place of power…and you’ve helped him?”
The Vee hesitated. “We…do not understand the question.”
“Eldritch has killed. He’s stolen. I have reason to think he’s kidnapped. Everything The Veritas do helps him get a firmer footing over the Honorans. How can you call that justice?”
There was an air about Owon as he gathered his answer that Reece didn’t like at all. He wanted Reece to hear this, wanted him to feel its sting deep between his lungs.
“When Charles Eldritch rules Honora, he and The Veritas will rewrite the law. Democracy leaves opportunity for corruption and private agendas…we will cleanse Parliament of these things. We will establish a kingship and a king, and The Veritas will be handed the power to properly flush out the disease that erodes Honora’s foundations, the criminals, the lies, those dark places where the Pantedans hide and live off the work of society…”
Reece’s chest, his stomach, his head, they all felt empty, like his feelings had just dropped dead at his feet. Distantly, someone touched his arm, and he knew it was Nivy, but that meant nothing to him, because Owon’s words were turning spirals in his head, and he felt dizzy. Charles Eldritch ruling Honora. Not a duke—a king.
“And the Grand Duke?” he asked hoarsely.
Owon gave a wicked smile, and there was no “almost” about the emotion in it. It was spite, pure and simple. “He will be…removed.”
Reece’s chair teetered on its back legs as he jumped up and began pacing, breathing hard. Here it was, then, the pinnacle of Eldritch’s plan. An assassination. For a second, Reece was able to look past everything the duke had and hadn’t done to him, was able to push aside the terrible night of their last fight, and imagine a world without the man who had taught him all about airships and flying.
“So naïve,” the Vee suddenly cackled.
“What’s that?” Reece said, turning.
The Vee shook his bald pate, clearly savoring the moment. “Reece Sheppard, these things must happen. Can you not sense it? These times are truly bigger than the life of one forgettable duke. Things are happening, things that—”
Reece took two steps forward, wound back his good fist, and punched the Vee squarely in the mouth. The Vee’s head snapped back and smacked the wall behind him. Very satisfying.
“Hey, are we gonna—” Gideon began, sounding excited, and then cut off with a grunt that suggested Nivy had elbowed him again.
Refusing to massage his raw knuckles, Reece stood before Owon and glared down at him. “What do you know about The Kreft?”
The Vee froze, contemplating Reece through eyes that were little more than dark slits. “You know of them?” His eyes flickered to Nivy; he seemed surprised.
“Answer my question,” Reece demanded, stepping to the left to bar Nivy from the Vee’s stare. “Why are they trying to take over Honora?”
“They are not.”
Pausing, Reece studied the Vee, not entirely convinced he wasn’t somehow fighting the compulsor. “But Eldritch…”
; “Naïve,” Owon repeated, very nearly snorting. He shook his head disdainfully. “Reece Sheppard, you think through the lens of your lifetime. These things that happen, they feel important to you, but they are not. Thaddeus Sheppard will not be the first leader to die for the advancement of mankind. There have been a hundred deaths spread over a dozen planets. All according to The Kreft’s design.”
Deciding to be more direct, Reece asked, “Who are The Kreft?” He sat down between Gideon and Nivy, glancing sideways at the latter. She seemed engrossed in the Vee’s words, as if trying to glean some information from them for herself.
“The Kreft are an ancient collection of beings who have been the political power in the Epimetheus Galaxy for nearly a thousand years,” the Vee calmly answered. His lips curled as Reece fell back in his seat as though slapped.
“That’s—”
“It is very possible,” Owon cut him off. “They are artists at manipulation, thriving in the shadows of ambiguity. A duke who came to know too much of them might indeed find himself tangled in a web of conspiracy. He might perhaps find himself with a target over his heart.”
It was more than Reece could comprehend, much more than he should believe. He felt like he should be shouting, or laughing, or running, afraid. This eerie calm was much worse, because it meant that he did believe.
“Tell me more.”
The Vee smiled mirthlessly as he stared defiantly into Reece’s colorless face.
Gideon stepped in, his voice gruff. “So why is this all happenin’ now? All the plottin’ and—”
“It is not happening now, Pan. It has been happening for a thousand years. For every planet, for every prime minister or duke or king, there is a strategically-placed Kreft. Every political move…every civil war…” The Vee’s eyes took on a decidedly wicked glint, and he chuckled throatily. Reece heard Gideon draw a sharp breath. “…all pioneered for their purposes. They are marauders, conquerors, as ancient as The Voice of Space itself. This is not the first galaxy they have conquered, and it will not be their last.”
It was Reece’s turn to cover for Gideon as his friend stared, poleaxed, at the Vee, clearly gathering up the steam for an explosion. If the Vee wasn’t somehow lying, then the massacre of Panteda likely hadn’t been a violent, unstoppable accident—it had been a ploy, manufactured. All those hundreds of thousands of Pans, dead because of a strategic move in someone’s idea of a game.
“So you’re saying The Kreft just came to Epimetheus and set up camp for the long haul? According to you, they have it conquered. Why stay? Why not move onto the next galaxy and start reupholstering that one?”
In the chair next to Reece, Nivy stirred uncomfortably, frowning. The Vee’s eyes narrowed in on her, cold and studious.
“True, Reece Sheppard, but The Kreft do not yet consider this galaxy conquered, for it is the only galaxy they have encountered true opposition in. As long as there are those who rebel, as long as there is something left to overcome…” Again, the Vee gave Nivy an almost pointed look. “…they will not leave. All opposition must be destroyed. An interesting dilemma, is it not? They cannot be conquerors without something to conquer. While a rebellion provides them that, it also holds them here. The alternative to rebellion is lying down and allowing subjugation. There can be no winner until one has destroyed the other.”
Suddenly, Nivy stood and walked calmly from the room, hugging herself. The curtain of her hair hid her expression, but there was something in her walk that suggested she was feeling very deeply, almost as if her emotions were too much to carry.
Reece knew this much: he might not understand who Nivy was or where she had come from, but what she did, she did to fight these beings known as The Kreft.
And he knew this: he was going to help her.
It was after midnight when Reece finished with the Vee and called a conference in Mordecai’s sitting room. Mordecai, Hayden, Nivy, and Gideon sat staggered about the room, all of them with bleary eyes and cups of tea and burnthroat steaming in their hands. Reece paced before them, hands behind his back.
“So Eldritch established The Veritas thirty-five years ago, meaning to use them to build up his power over the people,” Hayden typed into his datascope, balanced on his knee. “He wants to reinstate a kingship with him as king so he can have the absolute power of a monarch to weed the Westerners and Pantedans out of Honoran society. All in accordance with The Kreft’s grand plan for the Epimetheus.” He looked up. “How…how could we have never known?”
“Because they didn’t want us to.” Reece’s face and voice were both utterly deadpan. A stillness came over the room when he spoke, as if they were all wary of his mood, or lack thereof. “Because they’ve been in control the whole time. The duke was unfortunate enough to catch onto Eldritch, and now he’ll die for it. The Vee said The Kreft exist in the shadows. The Epimetheus is just their puppet box, and us, we’re just the puppets. All of us.”
“Bad stuff, that,” Mordecai murmured, brushing his thumb over his mustache. “Makes a man want to spit.”
“But I don’t see how Honora will ever stand for a kingship,” Hayden said quietly. “We haven’t had a kingship in nine, maybe ten generations—”
“Eleven,” Reece corrected without feeling. “Eldritch told me in passing, that day we spoke and he gave me back my hob.”
For a time, they sat in near silence, listening to the wind hoot as it whirled down Mordecai’s chimney. That’s what Reece felt like. A hollow space with a cold storm trapped inside.
“You’d be surprised how many folk will jump at the idea of a king,” Mordecai finally said, sighing as he hoisted himself up off his couch, mug in hand. “Lotsa them don’t like havin’ to think for themselves, just wanna be safe, protected. Havin’ a king does that. Makes a person feel like the responsibility is on someone else’s hands if somethin’ goes amiss. Makes them feel like they’ve got a hero if nothin’ does.”
“You know,” Hayden said after a pause. “I bet that’s the real purpose of The Veritas. To sedate the people enough so that when…when a change in rule happens,” he glanced uncertainly at Reece, “they’ll accept it without putting up a fight. The Kreft might have been planning to use them for that from the beginning.”
“Peh.” Tipping back his head, Gideon finished his tea with a noisy gulp and then clapped his empty mug triumphantly onto the end table. “We won’t go for a king meanin’ to kill the rest’a us off.” It was clear that by we and us, he meant Pantedans. “There’re enough’a us. Paired with the Westerners, I bet we could give the bleedin’ Kreft a heckuva time with it.”
Reece pivoted on the spot, facing Gideon was a hard stare. Nivy was already shaking her head at him. “You’d start a civil war. Innocent people would die. And in the end, you’d be wiped out…because if it comes to choosing sides, the Honorans will side with their own.”
For the briefest of seconds, something unfamiliar flickered in Gideon’s eyes. Reece almost wondered if for the first time in ten years, he’d gotten through that thick Pantedan skin and cut him to the quick.
“The Vee did say there was a war comin’,” Gid grumbled.
“But he doesn’t understand what it’s over any more than we do. Eldritch only trusts The Veritas so far. They know about The Kreft, but they aren’t part of them.” With a heavy sigh, Reece stopped pacing and sat down next to Nivy, leaning his back against the cold, potbellied coal stove and looking at her. “I wonder if this is what Liem knew.”
Nivy looked up at him slowly, her mouth drawn thin. His eyes slid down her neck, hesitated on the collar she wore, and then jerked away. He very likely could have asked the Vee about where she had come from and why Eldritch wanted her, but, as much as he disagreed with her people’s methods, Nivy wore her collar for a reason. And he wanted her to be able to tell him herself.
“Somehow, all this ties in with you, Nivy, and with Aurelia.” The others were quiet, straining to hear him. “I asked you before who Charles Eldritch was…but I think I
should’ve asked who you are. Eldritch is the most powerful man on Honora, and he wants you. Because you’re fighting him. Your people…whoever and wherever they are…they’re resisting The Kreft, aren’t they?”
Nivy smiled at him, then dropped her shoulders in a heavy, silent sigh. It felt like they had come to an impasse, and yet Reece couldn’t sit still. He studied her for a moment longer, then stood and started pacing again.
“I have to go to Honora. I have to speak with the duke.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Hayden doubtfully frowned. “The Veritas will be on the lookout for whoever broke into their base. And The Kreft…Eldritch—”
Reece cut him off. “Eldritch thinks he’s dealt with me by getting me drafted. If he was really all that worried about what I’m up to, it’s well within his power to have done something else with me.”
“But The Veritas that came for me and Gideon…”
“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have questions. It just means I’m not his biggest priority. Look, out of all of you, I’m the best off. I’m Palatine Second…or First, I don’t even know which anymore. My father’s the grand duke. That gives me protection that the rest of you haven’t been afforded.”
By the others’ uncomfortable silence, he knew they knew he was right. He was the only one who would be missed if he suddenly and conspicuously disappeared.
That should’ve made him feel better, but it didn’t.
XVII
Up in Flames
Bright and early the next morning, while it was still misty and blue outside, Reece got up, pulled on his riding jacket and goggles, and took a piece of marmalade toast to eat on his way to the bus-ship docks. Gideon and Hayden were still sleeping, but Mordecai and Nivy were awake, sitting on the back stoop of the upstairs workshop with a chess board balanced across their knees. Mordecai was teaching her to play, but Reece wasn’t sure he was being exactly fair: she was down to her king and knights while he’d held onto everything but a few expendable pawns.
Palatine First (The Aurelian Archives) Page 21
