What caught his eye the most was a set of shiny black enforcer armor sitting on the nearest table. It seemed complete with breastplate, backplate, greaves, helmet, boots, and bracers. All of which sat atop a thin, flexible body-suit that was worn underneath.
He walked closer to examine the items more carefully. Their size was just small enough not to fit him. He picked up the breastplate and found it was very light. The advanced, flexible polymer was able to repel bullets yet hinder the wearer only slightly. And some models, when completely interconnected, could enhance the strength of the wearer. Amazing technology. This particular unit seemed coated by a slick black substance. He scratched some of it off, revealing crimson armor underneath. The owner had probably coated it to limit its heat signature—make the armor less visible to the superior eyes of an enforcer’s visor. A tactic that would probably work, so long as the wearer wasn’t holding an active sword or casting fire magic. It was the kind of clever thing Caythis would probably try, if he wanted to avoid detection.
Unfortunately, even if it had fit him, the armor was not functional anymore. A large crack had split along one edge, so it wouldn’t protect the wearer from radiation. There was other damage too, scorch marks and smaller cracks. Worst of all, a piece of what would’ve protected the lower abdomen was completely gone, ostensibly burned off by a plasma sword.
“You did that, you know,” a woman’s voice said from directly behind him. Caythis whirled around, startled that he hadn’t heard her enter.
She was an enforcer, and wore lavender armor. The unusual color marked her as an overseer, probably the person in charge of the whole Silverwind detachment. She wore no helmet, and her silver hair was tied behind her head. She had dark eyes, like unreadable opals, and looked older than he was. Probably in her mid-thirties. She was thin and tall and probably intimidated most people. But not Caythis.
“I did what?” he asked, puzzled by her statement.
She moved closer, looking pleased with herself and smug. Like she were the queen of Citadel.
“You damaged that armor,” her alto voice was smooth.
Caythis brushed the melted cavity with the tip of his finger, it did seem oddly familiar. He set the breastplate down and looked her in the eyes. “Who are you?”
“Lucida Selona, overseer of Silverwind City. Not that you could ever forget.”
Was this another game? Or should he remember her? Doubtless he’d dealt with her before, but she did not seem familiar at all. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”
“It means, we were together, Caythis. You and I.” She advanced another step. “First at the Academy and later here. Don’t tell me you don’t remember.” Her smile gave him the chills.
“I don’t think so,” said Caythis dryly. She was beautiful, in her own spooky way, but she was ten years older than him, maybe more, and not at all his type. He felt no attraction to her now, and so doubted he ever had. Especially since she was the person most responsible for the atrocious behavior of the local enforcers. And, Caythis believed, ultimately responsible for Raven’s death. Almach had done the deed, Lucida had ordered it done. Or, at least, approved of the idea. That made her Caythis’ enemy.
He almost attacked her, right then and there. Wanted to scorch her to death with his fire. But, somehow, he held it in. Didn’t let himself lose control. He still didn’t have enough information to exact his revenge, and knew acting on such dark impulses, without thinking twice, was not something he should do. He was Caythis. He was better than that. So he pretended he felt nothing.
“Do you remember destroying that cuirass,” she asked.
He thought back. Tried to imagine his fight with Antares, believing that was Antares’ armor on the table. He saw a cliff. Remembered gunfire. And a dark figure in armor coming towards him, almost like a silhouette. But he did not remember killing him.
“No.”
“Do you know who the armor belonged to?”
“Antares.”
“That’s right. You killed him. Are you sure you don’t remember?”
He closed his eyes and saw the shadow of armor standing opposite him. He and his adversary were both surrounded by fire and corpses. But his memory was still unclear.
“How are you so sure that Antares is dead?”
She pointed to the damaged part of the armor. “That’s from a plasma sword. Your plasma sword.”
“Did you see his body?”
“I didn’t have to. You’re the one who told me he was dead. You said, in no uncertain terms, that you’d killed him with your own two hands. That the world’s cries for justice had been heard and answered.”
It was plausible, but Caythis did not trust her. And he wasn’t going to let himself be taken in. She was his enemy, nothing changed that.
“I told you that?” he said. “Why would I tell you?”
“I think we both know the answer to that question,” Lucida’s eyes glowed with passion and Caythis felt nauseous. “Because I meant everything to you. We met at the academy, we studied together, we fell in love. You were named champion-elect, you were given the station of overseer of Citadel and you took it and left me. You said it was the hardest decision you’d ever made, and that you’d regretted it ever since. I took my place here in Silverwind, where I’ve remained. And now, at long last, we’re together again.”
No. That wasn’t right. She was older than him, they couldn’t have studied at the academy together. Not in the same group. Perhaps their time there had overlapped some… He looked her over, looked into her dark eyes. Tested her for sincerity. And... he just couldn’t believe any of it. There was no chance he would have been romantically involved with this woman. A part of him wondered if he doubted her story only because he wanted it to be false. Because it made it easier for her to be his enemy, and he needed an enemy. Someone to blame. But he silenced that line of thinking and convinced himself her story was patently false.
“I’ve never even seen you before,” he said. “You mean nothing to me.”
She looked hurt. Or was she acting? Her eyes went to the floor, her smile faded. Perfectly realistic. He even felt a stab of guilt. What if it was true?
No! It wasn’t! She was trying to deceive him. Manipulate him. She was the person who refused to order her enforcers to help those around her. She allowed, or commanded, her enforcers to perform atrocious acts of violence against unarmed civilians. She hoarded resources others desperately needed. And most damning of all, she must have been complicit in Raven’s murder. Caythis would not show her weakness.
“Why else would you be here,” she said, looking up at him once more. Her eyes pleading. “Why do you think you came to Silverwind at all? After defeating Antares you couldn’t go back to Citadel. That city fell. In part because you abandoned it in order to slay Antares. A noble effort but that deed alone couldn’t stop the revolution from seizing the capital city. So you couldn’t go there. And you couldn’t stay in Andar. It was destroyed. However, you could have gone to Skyhaven, but you didn’t. You came here. To me. You brought Antares’ armor with you too, why else would we have it? Don’t you see? You came here and I’ve kept you a secret ever since. Which is why the world doesn’t know the outcome of your battle. This was all your idea. Why don’t you remember? Can you see any other explanation that makes sense?”
“No,” he admitted. As he added it all together in his head, it all seemed to fit with everything else he knew. Everything except for his involvement with the CTC. If he weren’t so certain of his feelings for Raven, that he would have wanted to protect her, he might have believed everything Lucida told him. Instead he doubted her. Believed she was telling lies spun around partial truths. Taking advantage of him because of his condition.
He turned his attention away from her and felt drawn to a sword on the farthest table. He went to it, picked it up. It felt comfortable in his grip. The handle connected two joined rods which formed the blade. A thin coil above the sturdy handguard allowed the weapon to be ch
arged with furious amounts of energy. It was the traditional weapon of an enforcer. Only someone well protected from radiation would ever use one, and it allowed a spare hand for summoning magic.
He swung the sword deftly, gliding into form without much thought. The blade swished harmlessly in a perfect rendition of K-style, a style he’d learned at the Academy.
“You invented that form,” said Lucida.
Caythis stopped mid-swing. What? He turned to face her. “I learned it at the academy.” He remembered standing in the sparring room, being taught by a gray-bearded man... but the memory blurred as he pressed it. Suddenly his teacher seemed younger and beardless. Then he was gone completely and Caythis didn’t remember how he’d learned it. On second thought, he did remember spending countless hours trying to craft the perfect counter to the T-form. Maybe she was right.
“No, you definitely invented that form. A pity you don’t recall, considering how tirelessly you worked on it, but at least you seem to remember your sword.”
That too felt wrong. As he handled the sword, it was comfortable in his grip. But it seemed strange to him. He set it down when he spotted another sword, on another table. “No, this one is my sword,” he said, picking it up. He knew it, he recognized it, even the scratches on it were familiar. But as he flicked it around, it felt all wrong. The weight wasn’t balanced to his arm and it was a little too short. Making it clumsy. So he decided it must not be his sword after all.
“You are more confused than I’d thought,” said Lucida, “but you will remember everything in time. Perhaps getting back into the rhythm of things will speed your recovery.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’m ordering you to accompany Almach on a mission tomorrow. Being on the job again might jog your memories.”
“I don’t take orders from you.”
Lucida raised her eyebrows. “Oh no? I am the ranking enforcer in this city and I have given you sanctuary, of course you take orders from me.”
The thought of working for Lucida was unacceptable and he decided that, whatever his role used to be here—if any—he wasn’t going to be complicit with anything she did. That said, he needed more information about her and her operation before he could decide what to do and where to go. So that meant playing along for now and waiting for the opportune moment to escape, take her down, or both.
“What’s the mission?” he asked.
“Do you remember the Code of Coalition?”
He did. He’d never read it but knew it was the primary governing document, it had been written by the Founders after the End of the World a hundred years ago. Now that humanity merely existed on a small continent of only four cities, it had been necessary to frame a new legal structure to assure humanity’s future. But no amount of rules or guaranteed freedoms had proven enough to prevent the rise of Antares, who had once again threatened the existence of humanity.
“What about them?”
“Do you recall the beginning of the last article? The enforcer clause?”
“Sounds familiar.”
“In it is written the purpose of the enforcers, it’s effectively our mission statement. You and everyone else had to memorize it at the academy, we recited it every day during our first year.”
He did remember. “To enforce justice and peace by any means necessary, so that our hopeful future shall survive.”
“That’s right,” she said. “And so it has fallen on us to use any and every means to defend that future.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The capstone of our mission, our very purpose, is to protect justice so the people may live in peace and be preserved.”
“Okay…” said Caythis carefully. Thinking how Lucida obviously didn’t believe in that.
“With the rise of Antares, the old order became outmoded. Our society is crumbling into anarchy. Each city stands separately. And each will fall separately. Look at what happened to Andar, wiped completely off the map.”
“Where are you going with this?”
“The people are not united in Silverwind, small factions are common and groups band together, promoting violence. The nobility have pressed their power too thin and they’ve lost their grip on the city. If we do not take over, total anarchy will.”
Caythis raised a curious eyebrow. Was she really suggesting the enforcers usurp control from the government?
“There is a major division and, without the king’s soldiers, order will be impossible. We’re simply too few. I have asked the Prefect to work with our plans, or to submit his troops to our control. He has refused. Things are getting worse every day and now the hour has come to take the city.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“In the absence of the Prefect the troops fall to the command of the Lieutenant Prefect, after him they fall to the command of the enforcer Overseer. My command. They’d be ours, Caythis. And it just so happens that the Prefect and Lt. Prefect are father and son. Jonathan and Jaden Turk. Living together under the same roof.”
“I don’t like where this is going.”
“Tomorrow you will help us eliminate them,” said Lucida eagerly. “Two stubborn, worthless men is a small price to pay for peace.”
“What you’re suggesting is murder. Seems a strange way of bringing about peace and justice.”
“Remember that, in the enforcer Clause, peace comes after justice. That is their proper order. And the Founders wrote the article to reflect that! This is our finest hour, Caythis! We must reconstruct our society. It is our duty. When you deserted Citadel to face Antares, you abandoned your post. You ran from duty. Now is your chance to redeem yourself!”
Caythis felt stung inside. Ran from duty once before? He shook the thought away, he wasn’t about to bend to her manipulative tactics.
He pointed to the table next to her, “A table is a table, the floor is the floor, and the murder of government officials is murder. Looking at something from a different angle doesn’t change what it is.”
“Acceptable collateral damage, Caythis, can’t you see the bigger picture? With those two men in the way, hundreds of thousands of people will keep suffering, and dying. Orphans die in the streets every day, and for what? So the Prefect can keep his men marching around his precious mansion and ignore the chaos?”
He doubted that was the real situation but it did seem to be true that the men-at-arms had no presence here in this borough, even though they should. Was that because the Prefect turned a blind eye to the needs here? Or was there some better reason. Perhaps he expected the enforcers to maintain order here, something Lucida was wantonly not doing.
“The ends justify the means, Caythis. Cut off one slice of the pie to spare the rest!”
“Interesting how the rest of the pie is yours.”
“And yours!” She said frantically. “You certainly had a different attitude before we sent you off to track down those CTC criminals!” An icy reminder of Raven. “And we agreed we would unite this city together. Our city. The Founders wanted the world to stay united, they didn’t care who was in charge or how it was ruled, just that we, the enforcers, were the glue that held it together.”
“The Founders are dead,” said Caythis. “They don’t get a say here. They molded together the best government they could think of, trying to prevent a second apocalypse and the total extinction of the human race, but they were just people. And they lived a long time ago.”
“Are you telling me you’d rather sit idle, again, while another city throws itself to the gutter? Breaks apart? Will you watch as the little children suffer and die?”
All he could think, as she spoke, was of the abuses he saw the enforcers do to the children. And he knew any kind of “order” Lucida dreamed of would only make things worse for the people, not better.
He could not talk sense into her. She was too far gone. So arguing with her served no purpose. What he needed to do was get her to loosen his leash, offer him a window to frustrate he
r plans and escape. That meant kissing Lucida’s ass for now. But he promised himself that she would pay for what’d happened to Raven, and for what she was trying to do to this city.
“I see I have a lot to remember,” he said. His voice was calm, even pleasant, and he sounded utterly defeated.
Lucida’s face remained tight for a moment. “So, you’ll do it?”
“If that is what you order me to do,” said Caythis.
“Even if you don’t agree with my order?”
“Responsibility for an order lies with the person who gave it, not the person who followed it,” he said. That was something he did not believe. If Lucida had given the order to kill Raven, and Almach had done the killing, they were both still responsible. And they both deserved to pay. But he knew this was the kind of rhetoric Lucida wanted to hear, so he put on his best acting face.
Lucida smiled. “Then it is time Caythis’ armor was returned to him.” She pointed to a set of bronze armor on another table.
He played along, realizing his time at the Elite Quarter was about to end.
5
There was a pounding on the door. “Main hall, ten minutes!” said Almach’s muffled voice.
Caythis was already awake. He’d scarcely been able to sleep in this luxury prison, especially now that he’d planned to betray them. They were bad people, he reminded himself. Selfish enforcers who terrorized and preyed on the weak, they were plotting to overthrow the government, and they were responsible for Raven’s death. Keeping all of that in mind, he knew what he had to do. There was no other way.
He fastened the bronze armor, snapped the bracers into place over the long sleeves of the black suit and, with a tug, pulled the right glove on tightly. There was no left glove. He instinctively wanted to strap a sword to his back, but they hadn’t given him one. Probably wise on their part. He picked up the helmet last.
He hesitated before putting it on, feeling its weight in his hands, realizing the moment he wore it and flipped down the visor he’d be one of them. Completely covered in the armor of the enforcer Combine.
Secrets of Silverwind Page 4
