Eventually the train arrived. It glided to a stop on the rails, lit by a blue headlight that pierced the light fog. The air-brakes hissed and the doors whisked open. Caythis stepped inside and took his place, standing near an exit. The few people on the train gave him a wide berth because of his enforcer armor. Soon they were on their way.
He began brainstorming how to get past the guardgate that protected the borough. But, without seeing it, he couldn’t really plan what he would do, so instead he enjoyed the view out the window. Trying to soothe his nerves.
The train rounded a sharp corner, followed by a jolt as it pushed up the ramp and onto the Silverwind Bridge. Through the dirty plastic windows, he could see the massive Silverwind river flowing. Its glassy surface gleamed as the torrent broke over the large boulders. A powerful wind was roaring through the pass, splashing huge waves below. He found it a peaceful sight... until an argument distracted him.
“No he isn’t—that’s ridiculous!” said one young man with a book bag to another teen. The second wore ragged clothes, torn pants, and had greasy hair, but most striking of all were the blue alpha tattoos on the backs of his hands, which, quite unusually, he made no effort to conceal. That meant the Rigilian movement was gaining in power if not popularity.
“I swear it! How else could he have done it all? Because he isn’t human, that’s how!” the second boy said.
“Look,” the student replied. “Nobody knows exactly why it happened, just like nobody knows exactly why magic works. Just that it does, and that—“
“Of course we do! It’s the gods! Antares and Rigil are gods! They created magic. They came down to our world. Just look what happened to Andar. You think that was some kind of coincidence? That was the second apocalypse! The scourging of the wicked!”
“Oh, I see. And thousands of people, all in the same city, conveniently, just happen to be the wicked ones. So he comes, straight from the Academy, and torches the city and that’s that?”
“And disappears back to his heavens where he came from,” the greasy-haired boy said. “That’s why nobody knows what happened to him. He left the world. And told Rigil to rule in his stead, we must embrace his leadership. Only when Silverwind bows to Rigil will Antares return.”
“First of all, we don’t want him to return. Secondly, spare me your religious bullshit. You cultists are all the same, always trying to bend reality to fit some sort of impossible mythology. Maybe, before you swear yourself to something stupid, you should try studying it first."
“Antares was eighteen,” the boy’s tone remained darkly calm. “Only eighteen. And he had more power in one finger than all of the masters combined! Killed them all. Then wiped out Andar. And you say he was just some mere mortal?”
The student looked out the window and didn't turn back.
“I’m talking to you!” The greasy-haired boy said. “Don’t you know what happened to Caythis?”
Caythis’ ears perked up, but at the same moment the greasy-haired boy made eye contact with him, noticed his enforcer armor, and jumped from his seat. He ran for an exit and got off at the next stop.
Caythis felt slighted he didn’t get to hear what kind of god or devil he supposedly was—but, interesting as it might have been, it was profoundly stupid. Serving only to give him some insight into the Rigilians. Their movement was just one manifestation of the fear that held everybody hostage day to day. That Antares, the menace who’d disappeared, would return someday. And his wrath would pour out onto Silverwind this time. The Untouched City. The only place that escaped the effects of Antares’ violent revolution five years ago.
Eventually, the train arrived at the edge of Manors Borough. Caythis exited and marched directly towards the guardgate that processed people trying to enter. Housing the government and the upper class, it was the most secure borough in the city.
Most of the borough was hidden behind walls but some of the taller buildings could be seen peeking over it. Magnificent glass edifices, huge displays of wealth, it really was a whole different world. A world that someday would have to wake up and take responsibility for the inequality that plagued the rest of the city. That allowed groups like the enforcers to plunder and the Rigilians to terrorize. The day of reckoning would come eventually, but it wasn’t for Lucida to bring about. It wasn’t her place to shatter the small amount of order that existed here and proceed to oppress the people even more.
He approached the guardgate and a guard tried to stop him.
“What business do you have here in Manors?”
Caythis kept moving.
“Hey, stop!” he said, scrambling to get around. Two other guards came running out of the guardstation to block his path.
Caythis ignored them.
“I said, what business do you have here? Don’t make us resort to violence.”
Mistrust between the enforcers and the legal government was very common in every city, but legendary in Silverwind. He reasoned that nothing he told them would be taken seriously. Their orders were firm. Keep out the riff raff, especially the enforcers. Still it was worth a try, he supposed.
“Your prefect is going to die, if he isn’t dead already,” said Caythis. “I’m here to save him.”
To his credit, the soldier didn’t laugh. But he did crack a smile. “We have the situation under control. Move along.”
They didn’t believe him. Caythis wasn’t surprised. He kept moving toward the gate, he was only meters away now.
“Unless you have proper authorization, you are ordered to turn around and leave.”
“Here’s my proper authorization,” he said, drawing his sword. He activated it and carved it into the gate’s locking mechanism. Very slowly cutting in. He didn’t want the radiation from his sword to injure any of these guards, so he kept his body between them and his blade, trying to limit their exposure.
Gunfire sounded behind him and slugs plinked against his back. The armor protected him valiantly. After a few seconds, the locking mechanism was destroyed. With the assistance of his powered armor, he pushed the gate open enough to slip through.
“I am going to the Prefect’s estate,” he said very clearly, turning off his sword.
He then set fire to the guardstation with magic. It was a tame enough blaze that anyone inside could escape, but severe enough that it would take effort and equipment to put it out. That would keep the guards off his tail for now. They would no doubt call for backup, alert their organization, and scramble the TAC teams to try and contain him. He was counting on that.
Once inside, he bolted for the Prefect’s estate, glad it was close by. It was the dominant mansion on the southeast side and only minutes away at a jog’s pace.
There was no industry presence here and very little commerce, restricted mostly to fine restaurants, cinemas, boutiques and the like. Marble pillars and sculpted shrubberies were popular, with gardens and lawns perfectly manicured and landscaped.
He took a moment to glance at the handcomputer again. Most of the other enforcers had stopped about a hundred feet north of the estate but one or two were approaching the house.
Caythis put the handcomputer away and sprinted along the west side. He hopped a fence and jogged up to the side entrance. He kicked in the door and stormed into the house.
“EVERYBODY OUT, NOW!” He said, after adjusting his suit to amplify the sound of his voice twenty times.
People started coming out of bedrooms, looking confused. One of the maids saw him and screamed. He ignored her and kept moving through the house, towards the north entrance. Ready to pull his sword but hoping he wouldn’t have to until the last minute, since the people here were even less protected from the acute radiation than the guards had been.
“EVERYONE LEAVE! YOU’RE IN DANGER HERE!”
Fortunately, he didn’t have to say it again. The family and servants were running helter skelter, giving him fearful looks and scrambling to get out of the house. He hoped he wasn’t corralling them into the arms of the enfor
cers, but there was nothing he could do about that except hope the police had arrived. They were due any second—since the guardpost soldiers must have reported his whereabouts.
When he reached the north kitchen, he caught sight of two enforcers in green armor. They were heading for the east wing. Where, perhaps, the prefect’s room was. Caythis ran to intercept them and shot a small blast of flame to get their attention. It caught a table on fire. He didn’t want to burn down the house but he had to fight. He drew his sword and activated it. The two enforcers did the same.
He blocked the path leading to the east wing and stood his ground against both of them. He was an excellent swordsman, and felt fortunate that his skills were more basic than his other memories and had stayed with him, but he couldn’t fend off two professional enforcers for long. Especially when they felt uninhibited with their own magic.
A rush of air slammed into him, throwing him against a wall. Before he could recover, the second enforcer raised his hand and fired a burst of plasma at him. His ring, somehow, was modifying his magic into something new, and deadly. Caythis had seen that before. All of Lucida’s enforcers seemed to have the ability. Probably a weapon of her own design. Something that translated their magical energy into something even deadlier.
He ducked the blast, which incinerated the bottom part of the stairs, and fired back with more of his own magic. Feeling less restrained now, he tried to melt the enforcers but they scurried apart.
Fire was spreading wildly, consuming most of the kitchen and some of the entry into the east wing. Caythis hoped there were other exits. As he threw himself back into the fray, with aggressive sword strokes, he was surprised to see the green enforcers take fire from behind. Bullets bounced off their armor and a few extremely powerful rounds sunk in, though none deep enough to crack their defenses.
Their concentration broke and they turned to see the new threat. This gave Caythis a chance to carve into one of the enforcer’s shoulders, wounding him severely.
The injured man turned and fled, assisted by his friend, and the two of them escaped through the inferno that was roaring in the kitchen, back the way they’d come. Smoke was filling the air thickly now, making it difficult to see. But he had little trouble breathing, thanks to the air filters on his helmet.
On the far side of the room he saw a man in a red radiation suit. It wasn’t enforcer armor, and Caythis doubted it would stop any bullets, but it did protect him from radiation and probably helped him breathe in the smoky environment. The stranger appeared to be male and held a high-power carbine in his hands. He aimed it at Caythis but lowered it suddenly.
“Caythis? Is that you?” a voice came over his helmet.
“Yes,” he replied.
The building was becoming structurally unsound, and parts of the ceiling were falling as they were consumed by the flames.
“We have to get out of here, now!” said Caythis.
“I don’t think Jesse made it out yet,” the stranger replied, trying to get through the roaring fire and debris to Caythis’ side of the room.
“Where is he?”
“I think he got scared and ran to the east wing.”
Caythis looked behind him. The stairs were gone, the entrance was furiously ablaze. Smoke choked the rooms. If anyone was in there, they would be dead soon. Part of the upper floor collapsed, crushing the south part of the building.
“Get the hell out of here,” said Caythis. “I’ll get Jesse!”
Without waiting to see if he’d been obeyed, Caythis turned and leapt through the fire, climbing awkwardly up what was left of the metal railing to the east wing’s entrance. He was impervious to fire, but he still felt the heat. And he still choked on the increasing smoke that was leaking into his helmet, despite the valiant efforts of his filters.
He kicked open a burning door and charged through the fire. The closest rooms were torched but the fire hadn’t spread to the end of the hall yet. If Jesse were smart, that’s where he’d be.
Caythis sprinted to the end of the hall and shouted “JESSE!” His suit’s external speakers boomed.
He thought he heard a faint reply behind the door to his right. He tested the handle but it was locked.
“STAND AWAY FROM THE DOOR.” He warned, then charged into it, breaking it down.
He entered an inelegant guest bedroom. Smoke had already penetrated it but nothing was on fire. The window had been shattered and that seemed to be helping keep the air clear. In the distant corner, he saw a young blonde-headed boy kneeling down, coughing. His eyes were red and he looked terrified. Caythis ran to him, scooped him up, and then jumped out the window.
The fall was longer than he’d expected but his suit’s reinforced knees helped him absorb the impact. Once on the ground he let go of the boy.
The stranger in red was nearby, the boy ran to him and hugged him around his knees. The stranger knelt down and hugged the boy in return, then sent him running toward the street where emergency vehicles could be seen arriving.
“Thank you,” the stranger said.
Caythis nodded. “The Prefect and Lt. Prefect are the targets. There are other enforcers here north of the building.” He pointed. He checked the handcomputer to see if their positions had changed. Unfortunately, the smoke and the heat had affected it and it didn’t seem to be working anymore.
“I’ll follow you,” the stranger said.
Caythis tossed the broken handcomputer aside and led the way around the house. Along the side the police hadn’t surrounded yet, thinking that’s where the enforcers would probably be. If they hadn’t escaped already. If he could delay them, maybe the TAC teams would arrive and take them out. Specialists designed for only one task, handling enforcers.
On the side of the house, not far away, were several small structures. They looked like storage buildings, a greenhouse, and something that might have been a guesthouse. He approached them quickly since they were the only hiding places left.
An explosion rocked the street, the force of it blew him forward. He crashed face down on his hands. His armor scraped across the blacktop a few feet and he cut his hand. Behind him the garage had been blown completely apart, the skeletons of a few vehicles were barely discernible. Other debris was spread over the lawn and road.
Caythis knew there hadn’t been nearly enough fuel in the vehicles' tanks to explode the whole garage. He looked from left to right, men-at-arms and the fire brigade were rushing over. A deafening boom shook the house and the west wing collapsed on itself, crumbling apart. Many of the emergency responders were injured by flying debris. He stood up and looked around.
There was a lot of shouting and a lot of panic as the men-at-arms pulled their line inward, tearing people away from the scene: hysterical servants and employees, family members, and many onlookers. A patrol of soldiers snaked through the street, trying to lockdown the whole property.
“Come on,” said Caythis.
The stranger in red seemed almost unresponsive as he soaked it all in. “Right. Let’s find these bastards.”
As they entered the first building, a storage garage, he saw that several objects had been thrown to the floor and arranged into makeshift cover. There was a lot of blood on the floor, and from behind the cover he could hear someone groaning.
Holding his sword ready and activated, he charged around to the other side and ran into a band of ragtag rebels. They were dressed like Rigilians, but something was wrong…
He deactivated his sword. “Oh my god,” he said. Only one was alive, the rest were dead.
The stranger in red leveled his rifle at the only survivor.
“Hold your fire!” said Caythis, deactivating his own sword. He bent down and tried to apply first aid but the woman seemed dazed and too far gone. There were five of them, and they’d all been recently shot.
“Zero,” she said.
“Stay with me,” said Caythis, supporting her neck. He recognized her face. Recognized all their faces. Scarlet, Jakob, Dmitri, Da
ve, and Kumar. They were members of the CTC. The enforcers had kept them alive after all, and planted them here. Waited to kill them until now. Leaving them to take the blame for the attack tonight. They’d been dressed in Rigilian clothing and had fresh alpha tattoos on their hands now. It was sick, turning them into the very thing they gave up everything to fight against.
“Max,” Scarlet coughed up blood. “Wanted… you to,” she struggled to get out the words. “was sorry. Max… sorry. Sorry he never told you. He knew… but never told you…”
He had the vague sense that he’d been looking for something, and that Max was supposed to be helping him find it. “Is Max alive?” he asked.
Scarlet’s eyes looked very sad. And she struggled to get out the word. She wasn’t able to do it before she died. But Caythis knew what she was trying to say. No. Max was not alive. She and Max had been lovers and she probably had been shown his deceased corpse. Perhaps they’d even made her watch as they killed him. Lucida’s combine was full of very sick people. He closed Scarlet’s eyes for her then stood up.
“If these people were your friends, I’m sorry for your loss,” said the red stranger.
“Thank you,” said Caythis. “These people were good people. They risked everything to try and make Silverwind a safer place. They deserved better.”
“I take it this means the enforcers are long gone,” said the stranger.
“I’m sure it does. These people were left behind to take the blame for the attack. To slow down any pursuit. By now the other enforcers are somewhere in the underground. Maybe even outside of the borough. We won’t be able to catch them. But we know where they’re going. Those bastards will still get what’s coming to them.”
“It’s been a hell of a day, Caythis. But I have to say. I am glad to see you again. It’s been too long. I thought you were dead. We all did.”
“What?”
Just then men-at-arms stormed the building with weapons raised. “Drop your weapon, hands on your head!”
Caythis complied, setting his sword down and raising his hands.
Secrets of Silverwind Page 6
