Conquest

by T. C. Edge

  "A...lucky punch," Herald Kovas grunts, clearly troubled by the show, looking nervously at Ares. "I was expecting a test of strength, not..."

  "It was you who determined the rules, Herald Kovas," the President cuts in. "First to draw blood." Her eyes turn to Atlas, a great crimson puddle gathering around his face, as a number of soldiers step forward to haul his motionless body away. "Is that enough for you?"

  "Yes, well..." Kovas mumbles.

  "Don't feel too bad, young man," my grandmother continues, evidently enjoying herself now. "Ares is the greatest champion ever to have competed in the Imperial Games of Neorome, the Warrior Race as the locals call it. He's had plenty of experience of such fights."

  "Well, that explains it then," Kovas manages to grunt. "Unfortunately for you, this isn't some gladiatorial contest. It is war. And it would seem that you have nothing interesting to say on the matter."

  'You don't find me interesting?" my grandmother asks, feigning insult. "I am insulted, Herald Kovas. I find you awfully interesting. This meeting has been most...enlightening."

  I can sense the joy in her as she speaks, performing her role well. We'd spoken about antagonising the man, trying to put him off his stride. My grandmother has clearly had the better of this particular discussion.

  Once more, I catch eyes with the Overseer. Don't worry about your grandfather, Brie, he says in my head. I'm quite sure you'll be seeing him again...

  He turns his eyes off to Kovas, simmering under the attentions of my grandmother. I can hear the Overseer sighing in my head, and even though he's not physically doing it, I can imagine him shaking his head as he looks upon his leader. Well, it seems I must interject, comes his voice once more. It's been a pleasure communicating with you, Brie.

  He smiles at me briefly, before stepping off towards Kovas's side. I can see him draw the man's eyes to his, clearly speaking with him telepathically, perhaps even putting an order into his head. I try to tune in, but find the connection blocked.

  And as I watch, I wonder whether it is, in fact, the Overseer himself who leads this army. Are they all just under his control? Is he the agent of the Prime here?

  His words, whether orders or merely advice, seem to have some effect. Kovas, with his face starting to redden angrily, turns once more to address our President.

  "I can see that you are unwilling to enter into any form of sensible negotiation," he says, his words simmering, but just about staying in control. "That leaves us no choice but to bring our full force to bear. When we topple your regime, and your city, your people will have only you to thank..."

  "Oh, they will thank me, Herald Kovas," comes my grandmother's response, joyously delivering one final nail in the coffin of this meet. "For leading them, once more, to victory."

  Kovas, clearly, has had enough. Snarling, he lifts a hand to order his retinue to follow, and quickly begins marching off towards his encampment. I see the Overseer moving off as well, glancing at me a final time.

  I'll see you soon, Brie, he whispers. Very soon...

  He turns and continues on, speaking now to the white-haired lady as he goes. The rest follow on. Wrestling my mind from the conversation with the Overseer, I look again to the young Fire-Blood girl, sensing some continued discord in her. I turn my eyes to my grandmother, and send words into her head.

  The Fire-Blood girl, I tell her. Amber. She is faltering. Speak with her, grandma...

  My grandmother nods, instantly understanding. Her voice slips out quietly. "Amber," she says.

  The girl stops in her tracks, stiffening a little.

  "That's your name, isn't it?" the President goes on.

  Slowly, the girl turns, looking towards her. "How...how do you know my name?" she asks softly, but guardedly, her armour beginning to glow a little brighter. I sense some unease building within her, a natural distrust brewing.

  "Oh, we know a lot about you," my grandmother says, smiling. "Your powers are quite something, aren't they? They must be difficult to control."

  Good, I think, sending my thoughts into my grandmother's head. Make her doubt herself. There's a rift between her and Kovas. She doesn't fully believe in this cause...

  The President, quick as a whip, soaks up my words and shapes them to arrows, ready to deliver them with incisive purpose.

  Amber frowns, turning her gaze from the President's, looking to the rest of us. I calm my expression as her eyes find mine, softening my visage, showing something more inviting and warm.

  "I..." she starts, clearly struggling to respond. Behind her, the other young Fire-Blood has stopped in his tracks, looking her way. He calls out her name, and Amber turns to look at him.

  "You'd better go," my grandmother says softly.

  Amber turns around once more, clearly intrigued.

  The President works up a warm smile. "Slaves get beaten when they don't comply," she says softly, pointedly.

  Good, I think again. Good.

  Her eyes turn towards New Haven, behind us. "There are no slaves here," she continues. "Only good, innocent people."

  I smile at her choice of words, cutting right down deep into the discord within the girl.

  Again, the voice of her ally rushes behind her.

  "Amber," the man calls. "Come on, let's go!"

  We stand, in a line, united as one, looking right at her. She hesitates just a moment, her mind torn in two. And as she turns, finally rushing off back to her camp, we breathe out as one, look at one another, and do the same.

  "Stage one, complete," says Secretary Burns quietly, our cohort marching along at our flanks back towards the city gates. "I would say that went rather well."

  Smiles spread between us, though something continues to tug inside me. I turn back and look into the distance. Far away, the bright robes of the Overseer glimmer under the morning light.

  And his words rise up once more in my head.

  I'll see you soon, Brie. Very soon...

  25

  Brie

  "You going to finish up soon here?" I ask, looking at Mrs Carmichael as she continues to empty the building. Across the main hall of the orphanage, Tess gathers up some of the final occupants, leading them towards the exit along with one of her helpers.

  "We're getting there," says my old guardian wearily, though with a defiant smile. "The other orphanages are clear. Once we're done here, I'll see if I can lend a hand elsewhere."

  I lay a hand on her shoulder. "Sophie could probably do with your help," I say. "The refugees are being considered a lower priority. Think they're gonna be some of the last sent down into the Oasis."

  "Doesn't surprise me," says Mrs Carmichael, raising her eyes. "So much for women and children first, hey."

  I smile, looking across the near empty hall. It's the same all over Inner Haven now, the centre of the city almost entirely evacuated, the people sent down into the safety of our sprawling, and as yet unfinished, bunker beneath the southern quarter. Essentially, it's designed as a gigantic safe room in case of intrusion, only made for tens of thousands of people, rather than just a handful.

  We begin moving towards the exit, stepping out towards the central plaza of the city, the sun now beginning to fade on what has been an eventful day. Though almost entirely evacuated by this point, a number of people are still being gathered up and sent below. It's a large operation being overseen by Secretary Marr, with many of the junior members of the City Guard drafted in to help.

  I see one across the way, helping a group from one of the residential buildings. He's been growing more into the role each day.

  "He suits the uniform, don't you think?" I say, looking across at Drum. He's becoming more of a man now, approaching the age of 18 as he is, losing some of that puppy fat that always used to generously adorn him. His training and workload among the City Guard has certainly helped, though much of it is simply due to him maturing.

  "He's grown up, that's for sure," says Mrs Carmichael, looking at him fondly. "Is he...going to be called to fight?"


  I draw in a sharp breath at the thought, though find my head shaking. Not everyone, of course, knows of our strategy, though of the non-military personnel within the city, my old guardian is certainly one. A little while after the meeting earlier, I came to help out with the evacuation, and found my lips loosening over the exact plan we are hoping to execute.

  I just find it hard lying to her, really. And perhaps, deep down, there's a part of me that needs her to know. Needs to prepare her should something happen to me.

  "So, he won't be included?" she continues, looking across at Drum. He's also taller than he was, perhaps by a good half-foot, and more thickly muscled to boot. It's getting to the stage where he isn't so much a half-Brute, as a full one.

  "No," I say, relieved. "We're going to need to keep order down in the Oasis, and hold back a number of our troops should our plan go wrong. The junior members of the guard are going to take care of that. It isn't going to be a place for a soldier like Drum out there, Brenda, no matter how dedicated he is."

  "Well that's...some relief at least," she says. "Does he know?"

  "He should have been informed by Titus of his duties," I say. "Obviously, don't share this around, but the plan is to assault their encampment with the very best we have. We're talking all the Neoromans. All the Stalkers. All the hybrids and skilled fighters we can muster. Drum shouldn't feel bad. I think even Rycard is staying out of this one."

  "Well, that's nothing to be ashamed of, with his injuries."

  I nod. Rycard, of course, was always a highly talented Hawk and soldier, but lost an eye during the civil conflict, before going on to lose a leg during the fighting with the Cure. He has a bionic one now in place of his original limb, but it's never going to be quite as mobile as what he lost.

  And, well, the simple fact is, Rycard was only ever a hawk. Even so fine a fighter as he is, the coming battle might well be far too dangerous for him. And, as Deputy Commander, it'll be down to him to take charge of the City Guard should Commander Hendricks fall.

  From the side, Tess comes jogging, panting a little as she moves up towards us. "Right, kids are all wrapped up, Brenda," she says. "Are we heading down to make sure they're all settled in OK? I hear it's a tight squeeze. Place isn't nearly finished."

  "It's not," I say. "But you won't be down there long, don't worry."

  "OK," says Tess, narrowing her eyes on me. "So, go on then, what's the plan?"

  "Plan?"

  "Yeah, the plan of attack," she says. She looks towards our old guardian. "I see you two talking. You're thick as thieves you are. You've told Brenda. So tell me. You know I'll get it out of her anyway."

  I look at Mrs Carmichael, who lifts her brows and shrugs, as if to say 'she's right'.

  I can't help but smile and shake my head.

  "The plan's pretty simple, Tess," I say. "But first of all, don't share it around, OK? I mean, it shouldn't really matter, but the President won't be too happy about me blabbing."

  "Sure." She pinches her fingers, running them along her lips as if to zip them up. "Lips sealed. Now go."

  "OK," I start. "So, um, all this bombing was intended by the enemy to get us into Inner Haven..."

  At that moment, another explosion sounds in the far distance. "That bombing?" Tess says wryly.

  "Yeah, that bombing. The enemy plan was to force us to evacuate here, then sneak into the underlands, move beneath the city, and come up in the centre of Inner Haven. I'm guessing, some time during the middle of the night when everyone's asleep."

  "And...attack?"

  "Yeah. They've got some extremely potent Fire Elementals in their ranks. The idea was - is - to get them into the middle of the city and then, well...roast us all alive."

  Tess raises her eyes. "Charming."

  "Quite."

  "So, that's their plan," she goes on. "How do you know about that, by the way?"

  "Long story. That bit is classified. Or...more classified."

  "Fine. But, yeah, that's their plan. So...what's ours? So far, this doesn't sound great, Brie."

  "It's not," I smile. "But it will be. I...hope."

  "You don't seem convinced."

  I go quiet for a moment. Because...I'm not. Even if this plan of ours works, and we catch them by surprise, do we even have the numbers to inflict enough damage to their base and their army? Mightn't it just delay the inevitable if we're beaten back from their camp?

  Tess nudges me in the arm. "So?"

  I draw a long breath, casting off my doubts. "So....the idea," I say, "is to attack them whilst they're all here. We think they're going to send a group of their finest soldiers to the heart of the city, and that will leave their camp exposed. That's when we attack with our best soldiers. We rip into them, and hopefully do enough damage that their campaign is no longer sustainable."

  She doesn't respond for a moment, as though she's some great military thinker, considering all possible angles. Really, she has only the basics. She's a smart enough girl, but there's nothing she's going to be able to say that we haven't already considered.

  "And this is all on a schedule, is it?" she asks, doubtfully. "I mean, how do you know when they're going to attack? Why haven't they done it already?"

  "Because they don't know the way in," I say. "We're going to leak it, the secret entrance to the underlands. The one the Nameless used to use. I used to use. Once they have it, with everything that happened during the meeting this morning, we're pretty sure they're going to attack. And then...so will we."

  She purses her lips, interested by the prospect. "OK, two more questions, if that's cool?"

  "Sure."

  "Um, first...how are you going to leak the location?"

  "We're staging raids tonight. Secretary Burns and I are going to put the relevant info into the heads of some Con-Cops. They're...well, they're pretty useless fighters, so we're expecting some of them to be captured. That'll give the enemy the information. Hopefully, they won't see that we've set them up. They have no idea, as far as we know, that we're aware of their strategy."

  "OK. Speculative, but OK. It does rely on the Con-Cops being captured. If they're not?"

  "Then we'll think of something else. Or try again."

  "Right," she says, glancing dubiously at Mrs Carmichael. "And, well, that sort of answers my second question, I suppose."

  "Which is?"

  "How long we'll be down in the Oasis," she says. "Obviously, we're being sent down there for this whole plan to work. Any idea when we'll come back out?"

  "No," I say, rather bluntly. "Could be days, could be a lot longer. If our plan doesn't work, then we'll probably keep the people down there until we can figure out how to win this war."

  "So..."

  I shrug. "I don't know, Tess," I say softly.

  Mrs Carmichael coughs to the side, looking at the two of us. "And, Neorome?" she asks, cautiously. "They're not standing by the alliance?"

  I shake my head, my energy sapped by the thought. "As far as I hear, they're still deliberating. They've gone pretty much cold on us. I think we're on our own here, Brenda."

  "But...Kira's there. And Domitian," says Tess, frowning heavily. "He's the Emperor for goodness sake. Why can't he make this happen."

  "Because their system is screwed up when it comes to things like this," I say. "And the treaty hasn't outlined what happens in the event of an attack on either city. His hands are tied, Tess. I know he'll be fighting to get support sent to us, but there might be nothing he can do."

  "And Kira? You think she's just going to be sat there, doing nothing?" Tess shakes her head. "That doesn't sound like her."

  "Not at all like her," I say. "But again, what can she do?"

  We stand, as a three, nodding solemnly as we discuss the fate of our city. As we consider this alliance that brought with it such hope, yet now, perhaps, has seen fit to abandon us to our fate at the final moment.

  I look around, watching as Drum moves off towards the south with some of the final stragglers in
the city, ready to send them down into the depths, into the Oasis project that we've been working on, night and day, to give our people at least some protection in the event of a full blown invasion.

  A lot of people were opposed to it, the effort, the money, the time it would take to complete. They wondered why we needed to bother when we'd already beaten the Cure. Why we needed to built this great, underground sanctuary when the city itself lay ravaged. Wasn't the rebuilding of the walls enough? Wasn't the bolstering of the Inner Haven defences sufficient?

  Many people asked those questions, but I never had my doubts.

  And now, here we stand, looking out upon a city being hastily evacuated below ground. Wondering just how it has come to this again. How war has returned to our dear city so quickly after what came before.

  I let out a sigh, feeling weary from it all, and yet hopeful, distantly hopeful, about the plan we have forged.

  Yes, it relies on a lot. Yes, many things need to go our way. And yes, we're likely to lose a lot of good soldiers anyway.

  But, really, what choice do we have?

  None, comes a whisper in my head. You have no choice at all.

  I nod at the sound of Zander's words, helping to strengthen my resolve once more.

  And with that, I hug Brenda and Tess goodbye, knowing I won't see them until it's over. Knowing that, perhaps, I'll never see them again.

  They grip me back, firmer than usual. Neither speak words to that effect. I know they're thinking it, yet neither voice it. They merely hold me tighter, and smile at me as I slip away, moving off towards the City Guard HQ, the main square growing so quiet beneath the dying light, the monument to the dead in its centre now, so rarely, standing alone.

  My duty now is simple; to prepare the Con-Cops for their task ahead. Men and women, stripped of their humanity and emotions, sent to battle as decoys, as canon fodder. As necessary sacrifices to a larger cause.

  And tonight, when they're out on their raids, I will be out there too. Watching from afar, with Marcus, with Ares, we will make sure that some are taken. We will not interfere, and not engage. We will merely watch in secret as these people are slaughtered and taken, hoping at least a few suffer the latter fate.