by David Brush
“But…”
“It’s for your own good, James,” said his father, a little harsher than he’d intended. “I have someone who’s going to take you to visit my friend Omar again for a little while. You can come back to Maqbara once the fighting is over.”
James watched as the living room faded to black, replaced by a hazy fog. From some unseen place he heard the voice of Omar Karich. “I’m so sorry, James…”
The darkness gave way again, this time on the lab he’d worked in for so many years with his adopted father. Omar regarded the boy, now thirteen, as he stood in front of a fume hood. James looked down at the two flasks in front of him. One held a yellowish liquid and the other a clear liquid.
“Now do you remember what I taught you?” asked the chemist.
James nodded. “Always pour the acid into water, or you’ll burn your face off.”
Omar smiled. “Well, that’s the gist of it anyway. If you pour water into a strong acid, it’ll form heat pockets that might boil. You have to keep your head about you when you’re working with material like this, James. Acids are highly corrosive and they can really hurt you if you’re careless.”
Once again the light faded, and pulsed back. James looked around the forest he was in, taking in the large trees for a moment before feeling the stick whack him in the arm.
“Ow,” he said, rubbing his bicep. “I wasn’t ready yet.”
Matt Donner grinned at him, raising the stick as he stepped back. “A warrior is always ready.”
“Oh yeah?” said James, wrapping his fingers tight around his own branch. He brought the wood tearing down towards Matt, who deflected it. The two raced around the woods, swinging and blocking with wild lunges. James brought his stick down on Matt again, who did a sloppy block just above his shoulder. As they locked, James pivoted his stick underneath and pushed up, sending his friend’s wooden sword hurtling into the undergrowth nearby.
“You wouldn’t hurt your old buddy now, would you?” said Matt with a smile as he raised his hands in defeat. His rotund stomach heaved in and out as he caught his breath.
James smiled back. “Well, even though a warrior is always ready, I’ll let you slide this time.”
“I’m going to miss this,” said Matt, sitting down on a fallen tree trunk nearby.
The smile faded from James’s face. “Me too. I wish you didn’t have to move.”
“I’ll still be pretty close. We’re just moving over a city or two. It takes more than a little distance to get rid of me.”
“Yeah, you’re right. It doesn’t matter how far away we are.”
Matt nodded. “We’re brothers, and nothing will ever change that.”
The light faded once more, returning this time on Kingswood Park. The smell of grass and wildflowers permeated the air as James blinked through the sun, out towards the tall oak tree that sat in the middle of the field. Beneath the shade of the tree, a young woman sat staring at an acorn, turning it over in front of her face as though it held some secret that only she knew about. He walked over to her, stopping just under the shadow. “Why are you studying the acorn like that?”
She regarded him for a moment with her emerald eyes before turning her gaze back to the small brown shell in her hand. “Even giants start small. If you want to understand the oak, you have to understand the acorn.”
He smiled. “I like you. You see things differently, don’t you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I just mean that most people only see a nut when they look at that, but you see deeper. You see the order of the universe, the oneness of it all, the strings tying everything together.”
She looked back at him. “You’re an odd person.”
“Good odd or bad odd?” he asked, flushing lightly.
“Good, I think,” she replied, pushing onto her feet with a small smile. “My name is Haley, Haley Hall.”
“I’m James,” he said with an awkward smile. “James Mercer. It’s nice to meet you, Haley.”
The darkness rose again, and he floated there in the void for a moment before feeling himself begin to fall back into consciousness. James blinked through the blinding light, struggling to sit up in the narrow gurney he’d been sleeping in. The black scar branching across his bare chest shone darker than it had before, and it pulsed with pain as he righted himself. The shrapnel wounds, sown shut, oozed as his skin pulled.
“Haley,” he said as she made her way from the chair in the corner to his bedside. “I saw him. I saw Ryan.”
She stared back at him with a blank face. “I’m sure you saw a lot of things. You’ve been unconscious for nearly a week now.”
He nodded. “I dreamt of Dunton, my parents, my childhood, and then there was you. Do you remember the day we met?”
A small smile traced her lips. “Of course I do. I was sitting underneath that oak tree in Kingswood Park and you walked over to me and asked why I was staring at the acorns so intently.”
James grinned. “Yeah, that was it. I think I fell in love with you right then and there. I saw you for what you really were: not a person, but a force of nature. Together, we were unstoppable. I knew that someday we’d build an empire; I just didn’t know what it would cost you.”
She looked down. “If you could choose again, would you still do it?”
He hesitated for a moment. “I don’t know, Haley. I want to say I wouldn’t, but I was never as strong as you. I hate myself for what I did, but I don’t know if I’m any less selfish now than I was then.”
She twitched lightly, trying her best to conceal it. “Then maybe I should have killed you when I had the chance.”
James lowered his head. “That’s what Ryan said too. Why didn’t you? You don’t need me to escape Dawn, and if I’m dead, I’m no good to the sphinxes either.”
“I knew that if I killed you like that, while you were defenseless, I’d be a monster too, and then you would have destroyed me a second time.”
He nodded. “When we get off of this planet, the empire is yours. You don’t have to go into exile, I will. You don’t have to start again.”
“I don’t want to rule the empire.”
“And that’s exactly why you’re the perfect person to do it. Humanity needs a leader like you, not like me or Nightrick. With us in power, there’ll be no true peace with the sphinxes. You though, you could be greater than either of us.”
“That’s if we even make it off of Dawn.”
“You haven’t repelled the sphinxes?”
“No. They’ve been laying siege to the facility, or at least they think they are. I’ve had our planes circling overhead and our troops keeping them back. Truth be told, we have them surrounded out there too, but I wanted to avoid any further fighting if it was at all possible.”
“If they haven’t detected our forces, it probably means their flagship is either damaged or destroyed. Either way, they won’t surrender until we show them our strength. They’ll agree to peace if we can convince them that we’re here to help cure the Plague.”
Haley’s face twisted a touch. “About that… there’s no need to discover a cure anymore.”
“What do you mean? You figured out a solution while I was out?”
“Yes and no. James… Nightrick created the Plague as a weapon. Doudna told me everything. I don’t know if he released it or not, but it doesn’t matter, really. Once the sphinxes find out that we’re responsible, they’ll unite the galaxy behind them when they move to crush us.”
“That son of a bitch… he let us come down here and meet with them without the slightest warning. He knew all along.”
Haley nodded. “He betrayed us all. I don’t know who killed him, or why, but whoever it was, he had it coming.”
James clumsily swung himself out of the gurney. “We need to find out what they know and what they’ve been able to transmit before we do anything else.”
“And how do you suggest we do that?”
“Easy,” said James, reach
ing for the red shirt Haley had folded over the back of the chair across from him. “We’re going to march into their camp and ask.”
Dr. Nightrick woke to the sound of a metal lock being unlatched. His body throbbed, especially around his battered forearms. Weakly, he pushed himself up off of the table he’d been placed on, feeling the rough stone against his fingers as he did.
“And so the jumper rises at last,” said the Dread Lord, stepping through the tall doorframe. “You never told me you were a depressive, Dr. Nightrick. If I had known, I would have started lacing your serum with lithium.”
The doctor shook his head. “I slipped. I was looking for a way out.”
“No. You dove. You thought that killing yourself would keep your people safe when they finally arrived, as if I needed you to shield myself. How noble. One forgets what a magnanimous leader you are when they’ve been away for too long. It’s a good thing that Dr. Mudaw spotted you from the top of the Spire, or we would have lost you to the sea. As it is, we nearly did anyway.”
“Is he ok?”
A strained laugh filled the chamber. “He survived, though not entirely intact. After we dredged you two up, we found Dr. Mudaw’s wings severely damaged from the impact. Mangled, perhaps, is the better word. It wasn’t all for nothing, though. As I watched him soar off of the roof to rescue you, it occurred to me that perhaps I’d given the sphinxes here too much freedom. I’d been operating under the basic principle of ‘where would they go if they escaped?’ Seeing his shattered limbs inspired me. I’ve had every sphinx on Dusk’s wings clipped. Now they’ll fly as well as you do.”
Nightrick paled a shade. “He should have let me fall.”
“Yes, he should have. Tell me, Doctor, how familiar with sphingian culture are you? Did you know that they consider the wingspan of a male to be the defining characteristic of masculinity? Without their plumage, they’re as good as eunuchs in the eyes of their communities. This is the effect you have on every being you come into contact with. Your very presence is corrosive. Everyone who interacts with you is invariably worse off for having done so. The universe would be a better place had the waves taken you. However, it isn’t for you to decide the time. When I will that you die, you will, and everyone from here to the far reaches of time and space will rejoice at your passing. But try to kill yourself like that again, and I’ll wipe away mankind without a second thought. If you think the Plague is bad now, wait until I seed the human strain throughout your little empire.”
Nightrick closed his eyes for a moment, trying to suppress the dizzy spell that continued to swing the room around his field of vision. “What do you mean the human strain?”
“When we initiated the outbreak of the Plague, we didn’t simply count on the other species to destroy you when they discovered the truth. We needed a contingency plan for a scenario in which humanity proved to be more resilient than I’d hoped. I had the chemists, your own chemists, engineer a new strain of the Plague that would target the Passover Sequence, as opposed to spare it. Why do you think Mudaw is here? I needed his help to work out the kinks in the alteration. Your friend has given me the tool I need to finish crushing mankind. If I release the pathogen, your empire will wither just like all the others have. I wonder, Doctor, what you thought would happen when the Fourth Fleet disappeared? An entire armory full of the most lethal weapon ever created, and you simply allowed it to slip between your fingers.”
“We looked endlessly for the Fourth Fleet, Francis,” said Nightrick, leaning forward. “We tried everything to find you all, but there weren’t any signals to go on. This planet, this Anomaly of yours, they distort our equipment. They made locating you impossible.”
“Impossible? Tell that to the men and women you left behind. They thought you would come for them. They worshiped you, Nightrick, but I knew better than to place my faith in you. When I left the dreadnought after it crashed here, they thought I was a madman. They told me to wait, that you would send another fleet to rescue us, as if salvation were waiting in the stars. But again, I knew better. I knew what I really was in your eyes: a piece of equipment. FR-CS, the first member of the Wraith Initiative. How many people have you forced back from the great beyond since then? How many lives have you restored just to feed the cycle of pain that your precious science thrives on? When I use the Anomaly to reach the Transcendent, I’m taking them with me, all the wraiths you’ve created and all the lost souls you’ve left in your wake.”
“I gave you life, Francis. What more could I have done for you?”
The Dread Lord regarded him for a moment. “You don’t understand death at all, do you? My suffering had ended. All I could think of after you brought me back was fading away again. One round through my head and I’d sink back into the dark sea that you drew me from. But as I sat there with a pistol wrapped between my deformed fingers, a thought occurred to me. I might be able to free myself, but how many countless others would be trapped in your grasp? You, the sphinxes, the slugs, all of you have learned how to avoid death. You’ve learned how to reach your feeble hands into the darkness and draw the departed back from eternity. Endless life is not a kindness; it’s slavery.”
“If you believe that, then why bother trying to reach the Transcendent? You and your followers will live forever.”
“No,” replied the Dread Lord, crossing his arms. “Transcendence isn’t immortality; it’s divinity. It’s stepping into the void between life and death. With that sort of power, I could free the billions of slaves you’ve created. I could end Induction and wipe away the IMMORTAL Initiative with all of its bastard descendants.”
Nightrick frowned. “You’re deluded. You’ve killed trillions for nothing.”
“The Plague is a necessary evil. Without it, I could never have hoped to stand against the great empires of this galaxy. Now, in the aftermath of the outbreak, I’ll rise at last.”
“All you’ll accomplish by activating that probe is an even greater genocide than the one you’ve already unleashed.”
“We’ll see, Doctor. I promised you long ago that I would break every chain you ever built. Listen now, as the universe cries out in despair. Your chains are cracking. And when the last one gives, when the last light fades from your dying empire, I want you to remember something that you’ve long forgotten. You are death, destroyer of worlds, and I am your instrument, dread. Together, we will darken eternity.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
James walked out of the command bunker in the middle of Outpost Delta cradling a coil rifle across his chest, flanked by a squad of automatons. The ten or so droids marched in unison behind their master, stepping quickly to match his striding pace. They ground to a halt as he stopped to catch his breath. Hunching over, he steadied himself by pushing his rifle into the pavement like a cane, riding out the wave of pain that had gone coursing through his chest. Around him, the courtyard was barren, littered with the debris of wasted efforts from the sphinxes to enter the command bunker. The pulsing agony passed, and he pushed his back up straight, waving towards the lip of the cliff above.
“Are you alright?” came Haley’s voice through the receiver tucked into his ear.
“Yeah, just a little afterglow from being detonated,” he replied. “I’m fine. It’s nothing compared to what I’ll be feeling if one of those feathered fucks on the cliff decides to get trigger happy and put another one through my chest. Third time’s the charm, as they say.”
The small procession continued forward, slowing as James carefully slogged his way up the incline. He made small, deliberate steps, trying his best not to go careening into the war droids behind him, who were having no difficulty with the uneven terrain.
“The others are in position?” he said, grabbing hold of a low-hanging branch and pulling himself up the last stretch of the climb.
The receiver buzzed. “Yes. I have the planes flying low overhead and the other strike teams are moving into position now. The sphinxes know you’re coming. I see them withdrawing their scou
ts already.”
“Good. Let’s hope they’re feeling diplomatic.”
The group pushed on, slowing again only once the outline of the sphingian camp came into view. James raised his hand, signaling for the squad to halt. “Haley, are you ready?”
“Go.”
James waved his hand forward, then stepped through the last bit of foliage into the clearing. The small group moved unhindered into the camp, passing sphinx after sphinx, each of whom turned and stared as the team moved past.
As they approached the towering command tent in the center of the camp, James raised his hand again, ending the advance. “Field Marshal Corticon, I presume.”
The old xarkulthian commander in the tent turned from his holoscreen towards the commotion. “You dare? For twenty years we’ve maintained our truce, and you throw it all away without even the honor to declare war again. Pathetic.”
James tossed his coil rifle into the dirt in front of the tent. “We didn’t declare war on you because we didn’t attack you. Whatever hit your fleet hit ours too. Tell your forces to stand down and we can work together as we’d intended from the beginning.”
Corticon raised his feathered brow. “Work together? And where may I ask is the search party I sent after you?”
“You mean the hunting party you deployed? They’re dead. They opened fire on us after breaching Outpost Delta. Your species still doesn’t properly respect ours if you think that we’ll be hunted like animals on our own worlds.”
“Cruel, stupid, and powerful. What a combination you humans are.”
“Better than just cruel and stupid. We can keep fighting if you like, but if we do, not a single sentient being will walk out of this camp alive. We have you surrounded with an army large enough to end your occupation of Dawn. We want peace, or you’d be dead already. I still don’t know what hit us in orbit, but whatever it is, it’s technologically beyond either of our civilizations. Only together can we hope to stand against it. The choice is yours.”
The field marshal shifted, giving a sideways glance to the war council standing beside him. “My primary directive when we were deployed was to combat the Plague, not your upstart species. In that regard, you’re very lucky, Dr. Mercer.”
