by Matt King
“Show them,” Soraste said quietly to Ion.
Ion rose until he hovered above their heads. The air darkened around the group like a curtain being drawn. Ion lit the interior of his shroud, transforming the endless barren hills of the planet into a scene full of life. It reminded August of the time he’d wandered into Aeris’s bedroom and set off the video of her memories that turned her room into a theater. Ion’s projection transported them to a world where skyscrapers lived up to their name, towering into the sky past the wisps of clouds. It was dusk on the busy planet. August looked behind him. A family of four—two men and a pair of young daughters—emerged from an underground tunnel. Circuitry laced their arms and legs.
“This is Series 74,” Soraste said flatly. “Population, recorded at sixty-eight billion.”
A sinking feeling settled in August’s stomach before anything else came on screen. He tried not to focus on the family, but he couldn’t look away. Across from him, Aeris watched with a laser stare.
“There,” Soraste said, pointing. “Along the horizon, you can see the weapon.”
August followed along with the family’s eyes as they first noticed the towering machine in the distance that blocked the low afternoon sun. Its cylindrical face stood in shadow, narrowing to a point where it cracked the ground. All around it were buildings that had toppled after its arrival. A low cloud of dust settled around the base.
Run, August wanted to plead to the family, but there was no use. He knew it just looking at the machine. Whatever Galan had sent to the world, he’d sent it there to destroy, and there would be no escape.
The machine gave off a horrible low groan as a row of yellow lights appeared around its body and began to spin. People were running in the streets now, panicking as tremors began to split the ground beneath their feet. The machine lowered slowly as it drilled its way through the planet’s crust. August looked away to the family, who stood in awe as their world started to crumble around them, maybe frozen by fear, or maybe by the fact that there was no escape, no matter how badly they wanted it. He saw the realization materialize in the faces of the men, who put their arms around the children and faced the end staring at it with determined eyes even as they hid the eyes of their kids.
“Do we have to watch this?” Bear mumbled.
August turned away from the family. Ion kept the image going as the weapon bore into the planet’s crust, spinning like a drill. Buildings swayed, then tumbled. August kept his focus on the drill’s spinning yellow lights as the cries of the children faded under the sound of falling skyscrapers. The world itself came to a pause just before the end, like a dying man savoring what he knows will be his last breath.
An explosion filled the sky around them, ending Ion’s display.
Sixty-eight billion. August turned the number over in his head. It was almost too high to conceive. That’s why Soraste showed them the family, to make sure they knew the cost. He didn’t need a reminder, no matter how big the number was. He had billions on his ledger already and knew the weight of their deaths.
“This was Galan’s doing?” Bear asked.
“He couldn’t have done that alone,” Cerenus answered. His playful tone was long gone, replaced with a somber tremor. “Tamaril’s hand is in this.”
“Tamaril would do no such thing,” Meryn said.
“You don’t know him like I do, Meryn. Tamaril would do exactly this if it meant he could stay alive another day.”
Soraste stepped between them. “We have no evidence of that, but we do know Galan’s machines delivered the device.”
“And this was not the only target,” Meryn said. “One of my planets came under attack at the same time. Heavily populated, just as Series 74 was.”
Was. August looked to Bear and then to Aeris. She caught his stare for only a second before stepping forward.
“Ion believes he knows where the next attacks will occur.”
Ion floated down until he was at their eye level. “They are systematically targeting worlds with the highest populations. They make no efforts to disguise their pattern. When one falls, they move to the next. In all cases, at least one champion accompanies the landing party.”
“They’re calling us out,” August said.
“Yes,” Aeris replied. “And we shall meet them.” She turned her attention to Meryn. “You’ve spoken of having an army.”
“The Orphii, but their numbers are diminished.”
“What do you mean, diminished?” August asked. “Who have they been fighting?”
“I do not know,” Meryn said. “Only those I had hidden are left.”
“Whether they survive or not is a mystery to explore later, when we have time to give it attention,” Aeris said. She spoke to Soraste next. “And what of your armies?”
The god couldn’t return her stare. “I could, possibly—”
“I have one,” Cerenus answered. “Give me a target and I will lead them myself.”
“Good, because that is exactly what I want you to do.” Aeris stepped closer. “Bear and Ion will go with you to a likely next target, one of Soraste’s worlds.” Her purple eyes found August next. “You have fought with the Orphii before?”
“Once or twice, yeah. We’re old pals.”
“I have a small contingency nearby,” Meryn said. “I could have them and you on the next target world as soon as you are ready.”
“We are ready now,” Aeris answered. “But I need your assurance that these Orphii will know what they are going into. They must come of their own free will. That is our sole demand.”
Meryn took in a breath and gave a single nod. “I will ask them.”
Just like that, August thought. Aeris made it look so easy. In two minutes, she’d done more to right their ship than he’d done in a year.
“I don’t like leaving August,” Bear said.
“August is more than capable of defending himself. The Horsemen and I will be there to witness just that.”
Beneath his armor, August’s skin grew hot, not from embarrassment, but from a building desire to stab something in the face. Whether she meant to or not—and she probably did—Aeris had stoked a fire in him. God help whatever half-machine sons of bitches they ran into on Meryn’s world.
“Go,” Aeris said to Cerenus. “Take your team and your army to Soraste’s world. When you have dealt with Galan’s monstrosities, Soraste will bring you back here.”
“And us?” August asked.
“We leave for Meryn’s world immediately. Gather your things.”
August tapped the ends of his swords. “Got everything I need.”
Aeris half-smiled and walked toward the Horsemen as the Alliance disbanded to prepare. With their face masks on, August couldn’t tell how the Horsemen reacted to Aeris. He should’ve mentioned to her that they weren’t much for taking orders from people they didn’t trust.
What am I saying? She’s basically one of them already.
“She is quite a woman,” Meryn said.
August tried not to show that she’d scared him. “I see you’re still sneaking up on people. Haven’t exactly missed that.”
“I would be surprised to hear you missed anything about me.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel guilty?”
She shook her head and took a hesitant step closer. “Merely a statement of truth. It is good to see you again.”
“Yeah,” August said. He’d forgotten what it was like to look into her eyes. They stood out against her tawny skin, brilliant discs of blue energy. It was a constant reminder of the creature she really was. “You should know this wasn’t my idea.”
“I understand.”
“And you should also know that I still haven’t forgotten what your god damn race did to my world.”
“I imagine you never will.”
He shied away from her and instead watched Soraste form the synapse that would take half of the Alliance off to war. “Even so,” he said. “I suppose it’s a little good to
see you again. Maybe. Don’t tell Aeris I said that.”
Meryn smiled as she nodded. The sadness was never far off in her eyes, though. She looked away before it completely overtook her expression. “Time is too often a forgotten element with my kind, but I think about it more often now. It is one of the few facets of this universe the gods cannot control. It feels as though it is slipping away.”
She seemed lost in thought, so he let her wander.
“Through my eyes,” she said, “meeting you should feel like it happened only an instant ago, and yet it seems so far behind us now.”
“A lot has happened.”
“Yes. Too much.”
He involuntarily scratched the skin around his eyes and caught himself when his fingers clinked against the metal. “It all seems like a blur sometimes.”
“Not for me,” she said. “I see the past clearly.”
“It’d be more helpful if you could see the future.”
She glanced at him before settling her eyes on Bear. “I imagine many futures.”
“What do you imagine ahead of us?”
The look of acceptance on her face was as genuine an expression as he’d ever seen on her. Her fingers folded around his. “An end.”
She let his hand fall and walked past him to a bare space beyond the group. Her body stilled as she formed the synapse in front of her, its face appearing first as milky white and then revealing the world on the other side. August watched along with her as the image came into focus but all he could see was a sheet of solid gray.
He caught Aeris’ eyes as she led the Horsemen toward the doorway before looking to the opposite side where Bear, Ion, and Cerenus were about to go through a doorway of their own. He nodded to Bear, and Bear returned it.
“Are we ready?” Aeris asked.
August motioned toward the synapse. “After you.”
“The Orphii will meet you there,” Meryn said as they passed. “Assuming their involvement, of course.”
Aeris gave her a nod and walked through the wavy face of the synapse without hesitation. August did the same, followed by the Horsemen. When the stomach somersaulting passed, he took in the landscape. He finished his scan in less than a second. The entire planet seemed socked in blanket of fog.
“Can’t see a damned thing,” he said.
“Yes you can,” Aeris replied.
He looked at her before remembering his infrared. She took down her hair at the same time he switched his vision, triggering his version of her enhanced senses. Sense, he corrected. I don’t have digital ears. Yet.
His first thought was that his eyes had malfunctioned. He thought hard about turning the switch to infrared, thinking maybe he’d turned on ultraviolet instead, but his surroundings didn’t change. The setting wasn’t the problem.
“What’s out there? I hear nothing,” Aeris said.
August looked again. A wall of blue filled his entire field of vision. He kept looking back to Aeris and the Horsemen just to make sure he could still see. Their bodies showed hot. Ahead of them, though, was nothing.
“Are we sure we’re on the right planet?” he asked.
He canted his head to look into the sky, hoping to find something beyond the thick layer of fog. When his neck reached as far back as he could go, he finally saw an end. “Jesus shit,” he muttered.
“What?”
“We’re standing at the base of it.”
The drill—for lack of a better term—stood as tall as a mountain in front of them, its cylindrical body stretching beyond the low clouds until it seemed to be connected to the stars above it. It was as wide as two football fields. He felt like a speck of dirt looking up at a blade of grass.
The Horsemen stiffened. Aeris looked suspiciously from side to side. “I hear something,” she said.
His eyes trailed down the length of the drill until he got to the bottom. There seemed to be something around the base, something unsymmetrical. Rocks, maybe, from the impact of its landing.
No, not rocks. Rocks don’t move.
One after another, white hot globes of light turned to see them. Soon he was staring at a sea of eyes.
He drew his swords.
Aeris sparked the fire in her hands. She looked like a tiger, wild for the scent of blood. “They will not fire that machine so long as we draw breath. Steel yourself, Alliance.”
Hundreds of Galan’s Ministers moved toward them, picking up speed as they ran.
August triggered his mask and squeezed the leather wraps of his sword handles. He took a final look at the towering drill before charging behind Aeris with the Horsemen at his side.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The world Bear stepped through the portal to see looked like the bustling planet he’d first met Soraste on, albeit turned inside out.
On the surface, the planet was as barren as the world they’d just left. The air was crisp, maybe even freezing, as rainless storms raged overhead. Small mountains that looked like rose thorns dotted the otherwise flat, dusty earth. Below the surface, though, tucked into cracks that stretched for miles, were huge buildings lined side-by-side up and down the canyon walls.
“Where’s the drill?” Bear asked. “Soraste said it would be here.”
“She said the armies would be guarding something,” Cerenus answered. “She didn’t guarantee another drill. Perhaps Galan sent something even more horrible for us to dismantle.”
An explosion sent fire and black smoke billowing into the ravine near the base of one of the towers.
“Looks as though we’re just in time,” Cerenus said. He eyed the descent and then looked at Bear. “You don’t get sick when you fly, do you?”
“Say again?”
Ion took off like a streak toward the fire, leaving Bear and Cerenus standing on the ledge. Cerenus shrugged his shoulders. “I guess we’ll find out.”
“Look, I’ve never flown—”
Before he could finish, Cerenus took Bear by the arm and lifted him off the ground. Bear’s stomach lurched. The wind rushed over his face mask, whistling as they sped into the canyon. Cerenus dropped Bear on his feet next to Ion, whose shell was now a swirling blood red haze.
They stood side by side as they took in the sight of the destruction.
Men in black armor swarmed the polished metal streets of the city. They carried staffs with ends painted green. Several gathered around the fire still rushing out of the building from the explosion. As the fire spread, the building’s lights flickered, then snuffed out.
“Pyrians,” Ion said.
Bear thought back to what August had told him before about Amara’s army. He said they looked like they were made of stone, and that their skin had fused with some sort of bacteria, making it almost impenetrable. Up close, it shined like the inside of an oyster shell. Talus had been a Pyrian at one point.
Bear’s pulse quickened at the thought.
I hope he’s here.
A woman ran past them toward the burning building. Her clothes were burned to rags, exposing yellow skin that looked half-rotted away, revealing a metal shell underneath. When she looked back at them, she pleaded for help with one eye that glowed blue.
Bear felt helpless in the shadow of the massive fire. “Ion, can you tell if there are any survivors in there?”
“The only life present is above the affected section. All life within the fire is gone.”
Gone. He said it flatly, as though he was talking about a passing train.
The woman kept running even as a second explosion sent another column of fire into the sky. A handful of Pyrians turned toward her. They raised their spears.
“Cerenus!” Bear shouted.
“I’ve got her.”
Cerenus raced across the distance between them and came crashing down in front of the Pyrians, creating a wave of ruptured earth that scattered the party. He grabbed the woman and flew her up to a circular balcony overlooking the canyon floor.
A loud humming noise came off of Ion’s shell.
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“What’s going on?”
“There is a champion here. Their energy signature is close.”
“How close?”
Ion shot out a milky yellow arm that snatched Bear off the pavement and dragged him away. Bear rolled to a stop just as a shockwave tore through the earth where he’d been standing. He looked back to see a hooded figure in a blood red cape standing in a small crater where he’d landed. When the man turned to Bear, he looked down at him with a featureless mask, polished to a mirror shine. Bear saw the orange eyes of his own face mask reflected back at him.
Little by little, the man’s crimson armor started to glow like a burning cinder. It started at his fingers and spread up to the middle of his bicep. Small waves of heat rose off of his arms.
Ion shot a bolt of lightning toward the champion. The shot hit its mark, but not its target, as it destroyed the section of road where the man had been only a half-second before. Impossible, Bear thought. He moved too quickly, almost like he’d never been standing in the spot at all.
The hooded figure looked poised to come after Bear. Before he could, Cerenus came crashing in between them, kicking up a cloud of debris as he landed. He shot out his hands and grabbed the man by the throat. “The Pyrians!” he ordered over his shoulder to Bear before he took off into the sky with the other champion. Whether Cerenus was in control or not, Bear couldn’t tell. It almost looked like the hooded man was steering them. They landed in a cloud of dust on top of the ridge.
It was too soon—and too familiar—to feel the mission slipping away. We’ve got to grab control of this. He looked from the stampeding Pyrians to Ion, whose face still glowed red. Tiny arcs of lightning danced over his shell.
“That thing you just grabbed me with,” Bear said. “Can you use it to throw me?”
Ion paused. “Yes.”
“Good. I want you to throw me.”
“Where?”
Do I really want to do this? He motioned toward the Pyrians before he lost his nerve. “Right in the middle.”
A yellow haze expanded off the face of Ion’s shell and sent out an arm to envelop Bear. Ion lifted him off the ground.
