by T. C. Edge
"Does Brie know this?" I ask him through a calm whisper. "Does she know he's still alive, in part?"
"Oh, she knows," says Perses. "He has been with her since he fell, guiding her, helping her build her powers, unlocking parts of her mind that, before, were inaccessible to her. He moves between the spectral realm, and the space where a part of him remains, right there in the depths of her mind. He is, I have found, a good, kind, and fiercely loyal man. He protected his sister in life, and now continues to do so in death."
I turn my eyes down, trying to imagine it, trying to picture it. "It must be lonely," I whisper, thinking of such a stark existence. "Caught between life and death like that."
"Lonely," Perses nods. "Perhaps. But not without purpose. Not without meaning."
"And he'll be stuck like that forever?" I feel some vicarious grief at the thought. The endlessness of it. The desperate isolation. "Is Brie aware of that?"
"She doesn't truly understand it," he tells me. "Zander has chosen to keep the full truth from her. He doesn't want to place that burden on her shoulders when she has so much to deal with."
"Burden?" I ask. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," he says, his voice so full of gravity and feeling, more sombre than I've heard it before. "For Zander to leave the spectral realm for good, Brie will have to give him up, and let him go. He doesn't want that yet. Not until her task is done."
His eyes fix to mine, dark, endlessly deep, full of sorrow and yet purpose. Somehow, before he even speaks once more, I know that Perses has changed, just as I have.
I know that he has been set free.
"I have seen the light," he tells me, his words rumbling like thunder in a distant storm. "My rebirth has shown me the way, made clear the task we all must face. I see it in your eyes, Amber. I see the burden has lifted from you too. We have a job to do now. We must save our people, all our people. We must lift the veil that has smothered them for so long. That is our task, like Brie's. We must succeed, together. The very future of our people depends on it."
I stare at him, dumbfounded and amazed. He has escaped the shadows, stepped into the light. And all the doubts I've had, all the niggling concerns of treachery and betrayal, immediately slip away.
Once more, I will stand by Perses's side, an apprentice to his mentor.
And like him, rising from the ashes, we will see our own people reborn.
119
"She was telling the truth all along."
The whisper comes from the President's lips, her eyes staring towards the stone floor, her head shaking lightly. I stand in the main chamber that connects my cell and the infirmary, the gigantic construction equipment still sitting unused, the massive, dusty bunker empty except for a few soldiers covering the exits.
Ahead of me, the President turns silent, trying to come to terms with what I've told her. To her flank, Secretary Burns stands, both of them quickly summoned from their duties, eager to hear of my fateful conversation with Perses.
"It sounds farfetched," Burns says, his voice clear, echoing a little around the chamber. "But plausible at the same time. Brie has always told of Zander's voice, his presence, in her head. It seems she has been vindicated."
The President looks to him, her eyes cast into a frame of mild guilt. I don't exactly think that Burns was posing it as an accusation, but she seems to partially take it that way. She must, I imagine, have doubted her granddaughter somehow. Perhaps she found it too fanciful, too mystical, to be believed.
"She hardly talked about it, especially not recently," the President whispers, shaking her head. "She thought no one believed her, but that wasn't true. It's why she sought out Artemis. He was detached from everything here. He could give her the ear she craved, without the sort of judgement she feared from the rest of us."
"Artemis," I say. "That's her grandfather, Director Cromwell?"
"Yes," says Burns. "He was living in isolation in a facility known as the REEF, about fifteen or so miles west of New Haven. He was exiled for his crimes against the people of this city. Brie had taken to sneaking out to visit him recently. Naturally, it was a point of some...contention, here."
"It's all quite complicated, Amber," the President says, sounding a little bitter over any mention of her ex-husband. To think they went to war against one another, I think. Her leading the Nameless rebels, him leading the ruling party of the city itself. It's a family drama that massively outstrips my own. "Now isn't the best time," she goes on, "to explain our personal troubles to you."
"I...of course," I say. "I just thought you should know about Brie. About Zander."
"And you did absolutely the right thing informing us," says Burns. "There seems little reason to doubt Perses, though this talk of a spectral realm does raise some fascinating questions. We shall need to dig a little deeper. Find out more about it." He looks to his President. "Perhaps," he says, "what Kira told us is correct?"
The President nods sagely, considering his words. "It would seem that way," she says quietly. "Maybe there is a connection there now..."
I look at them, not understanding, but decide not to probe either. There's something more I need to tell them that's pressing to get off my tongue.
"There's, um, one other thing you should know," I say, drawing their attention back to me.
"And that is?" asks Burns.
"Perses," I say. "He's...well, he's changed. Like I have. I think his death and rebirth has stripped him of the Prime's controls. I'm not sure, but I think his experience in this spectral realm, as he calls it, with Zander, has opened his eyes somewhat as well."
"And you believe him?" asks Burns, narrowing his eyes.
"I do," I say immediately, without a moment's hesitation. "He's always harboured doubts, and I've seen his commitment waver. I saw nothing, Secretary Burns, nothing on his face when he spoke of the Prime. No smile, no joy. He was more circumspect, like I am now. I truly believe he's seen the light."
"Then I will need to test that theory," Burns says. "I will see how he reacts when I probe into his mind as I did with you. That will tell us whether the Prime still holds sway."
"And what of Elian?" asks the President.
"I...I haven't spoken to him yet," I say. I frown, a little perturbed. "I thought you'd be happier. You want Perses to help, don't you? Isn't this great news for all of us?"
"We are Savants," says Burns, a muted smile hovering in one corner of his mouth. "We don't feel emotions well, young Amber."
"He's being facetious," the President says, glancing to her Defence Secretary. "We are happy about this news, but it will do us no good getting our hopes up until we make more concrete, tangible progress. The Olympian army remains on our doorstep, and that is an immediate concern we have to deal with. And," she adds, her voice taking on a weary note, "you'll have to excuse my personal distraction. To hear that Zander might still exist in some form. To have confirmation of that fact. I...I don't know how to feel about that. It pains me a little to think of how that existence must be. And how I haven't given Brie the support she has needed."
"You have, Cornelia," says Burns softly, using her first name. He reaches out and places a comforting hand to her shoulder, squeezing lightly. "It isn't easy juggling everything you have to deal with. We all have such sympathy for Brie after losing Zander, but you were his grandmother, and raised him from a boy. People fail to remember, sometimes, that you have been grieving too."
I see her threatening to crumble a little at his words. Savants they may be, but there's plenty of emotional depth to both of them.
"I have to be President to my people, first and foremost," she says, trying to firm up. Her eyes turn to me. "Good work, Amber. Very good work. Please, visit with Elian. We would like, if only for your sake, to make him see the light as well."
"My sake?" I ask. Then I begin to nod. "He isn't so important, is he?" I say. "If he doesn't turn, it's no matter to you."
Burns steps forward, drawing my eyes as he answers. "That isn't true, Amber,"
he tells me. "Your part in helping us to get through to the others is important, as you know, but the critical elements are still to come. You can be the bridge to unite the people of the Fringe, and Olympus, as you so desire. Elian can be effective there too. He is well respected and liked by the Children of the Prime from what I have discovered. His voice will count too. He may be important in helping to ease a transition once we eliminate the Prime."
His eyes scan me as he voices the final words. A test, perhaps, to see my reaction. Yet where before I might have grown aggressive upon hearing them, now I merely nod my agreement. The stirring deep inside me has no impact. It's as a distant wailing only, the cries of a creature locked deep within.
"I understand," I say. "I'll see what I can do. I'd...also request that Perses and Elian spend some time together. There are things they need to, um, talk about."
"That isn't a problem," says Burns. "I will speak with Perses right now. I'd like to confirm for myself what you have discovered. Speak with Elian, and we will bring them together when we can. For now, both will remain under guard."
He turns to the President, who nods her agreement. "Then let us get on," she says. "There is much that needs to be done."
With that, we disperse, the President heading back to her critical duties above, where the state of the war remains in limbo, and Secretary Burns and I returning to the infirmary. I watch as Burns heads off towards Perses's well guarded room, wishing I could be a part of that interaction too. I'd be intrigued to know just how fully Perses has cast off the yoke, or whether the influence of the Prime remains, subtly directing him, even now.
I give it little thought, knowing what I'm like when I dwell on things too long. Feeling more clear-headed, more narrow-of-view, than I have, perhaps, in my entire life, I march towards Elian's room, bracing myself for yet another strained conversation.
I'm greeted, upon entering, by a pair of sharp, golden eyes, staring right at me as I pass by the soldiers and into the room. Elian stops in his pacing - by the looks of things, he's being doing that for a while - and turns right towards me as I enter.
"Finally," he grunts, his voice heavy and a little raw. "Just what the hell has taken you so long, Amber! I've been waiting here on my own all damn night."
"I've been busy, Elian," I say, my voice calm and filled with a clarity of purpose.
"Right. That important appointment you had yesterday. What was that about, by the way? And don't even get me started on the Perses thing. What the hell were you thinking, springing that on me before you walked off! You knew it would be on my mind all Prime-damned night!"
"I thought," I say calmly, "that I'd be able to see you sooner. Just calm down, Elian, and stop being a baby. We're prisoners of our 'apparent' enemy. Be grateful you're not being tortured and beaten for information right now."
"Pfft," he huffs, snatching his eyes towards the window, at the shadows of the guards outside. "It's bad enough having that lot watching over me all the time. Coming in every five minutes to force drugs down my throat. If that's not torture, I don't know what is."
"Jeez, Elian," I sigh. "I'll say it again; stop being such a baby!" I shake my head, frowning at him as I do so. "They have to keep us drugged so our powers don't come back. If our fires light back up it'll be much more difficult to suppress them again. How do you not get that?"
"I do get it, Amber," he returns fiercely. "Maybe I'm just fed up of being stuck in here and kept in the dark. Maybe, I don't know, and call me a baby all you want, but maybe I'm pissed off that we've been captured at all!"
"Yeah, well I'm not," I say, launching the words at him like a net to snare his attention. "I'm glad we got captured. I'm glad we're here in New Haven. And I'm glad that I'm finally on the right side..."
His eyes narrow, and he begins to nod. "So you said yesterday," he growls darkly.
"Don't use that tone of voice with me," I retort, beginning to grow angry at his total blindness. "You know why we were made Chosen and Herald. You know we were only here to kill an entire people. How is that right? How is that not total manipulation?"
"It's war," he says, sticking to his guns. "And I wasn't just made Chosen to come here and team up with you. I was always going to be Chosen Fire-Blood. Don't try to take that away from me."
I look at him, my eyes not moving away, nodding just slightly. My tone takes on an interrogative note as I speak. "And what exactly is being a Chosen?" I ask. "What is the point, really?"
"Er," he says, frowning at me, evidently thinking the question to be completely dumb, "It's...well, it's..." He stops for a moment, giving himself a second to think.
"It shouldn't be this hard, Elian," I say.
"You're putting me on the spot and I'm flustered, OK. Just give me a chance."
I purse my lips, fold my arms, and wait, looking at him expectantly the entire time. Eventually, he finds the words he was perhaps looking for.
I still find them entirely unconvincing.
"It's...ceremonial," he says. "We are the favoured Children. We are the ones for the people to look up to. We have earned our place, and our right, to be at Mother and Father's side. And when their will needs to be done, we are the ones who carry it out."
I lift a corner of my mouth into a nostalgic, almost superior smile. My eyes fall away to one side as I think. Think of all those days I spent mocking the devout people of Pine Lake with Jude and my grandmother. Of all those times I looked at Collector Ceres and his ridiculous retinue, feeling like all of this was just one gigantic sham, a lie to force the Fringe to work beneath the thumb of the divine rulers above them.
Those same feelings stir again now, as I listen to Elian's words. No matter how magnificent the city of Olympus is, no matter how many good, righteous people there might be there, everything Elian is saying right now reminds me of the person I used to be.
The girl outside of the system, doubting it every step of the way, until she was assimilated through a series of carefully created controls.
No longer.
"I'm going to tell you, Elian," I begin, knowing there's no point in delaying right now, knowing it might just be best to cut to the chase, "exactly what is happening here." I steer my eyes directly towards him, bracing myself just a little. "What you're thinking about me right now is true. I'm not lying when I tell you we are on the wrong side. I'm not lying when I tell you I have defected."
His lips curl up a little bit. He opens his mouth and takes a breath, ready to speak, but I cut him off.
"You know what I want, Elian. You helped me begin it all on the journey here," I say. "I want to see that my people are no longer treated as lesser beings. I want, essentially, for Olympus to adopt the same structure that they have here. Did you know that New Haven have taken in over ten thousand refugees in the last few months? Both Enhanced and Unenhanced alike. Or, what we might call, Children of the Prime, and Fringers, if they were born where we come from..."
"They are not the same as us," Elian grunts. His eyes turn to the window again, towards the soldiers outside. "Just because they have power, doesn't mean they're the same, Amber."
I let out a long, almost dismissive sigh. "You know that isn't true, Elian. Whatever you say, you know it."
"I..."
"The people here," I continue, cutting him off, "are thought as equal in their standing. They had a system like ours not long ago, and it has since been abolished. They are the progressive ones, not us. And I am going to do everything I can to help them bring the same system to our lands."
Now his eyes do narrow, something dark brewing inside him.
I don't take a step back. I don't withdraw. No, now is the time to stick the knife in deep, twist, and see just how he reacts.
"We're going to eliminate the Prime," I say, speaking loudly, directly, and not turning away. "We're going to remove them both, and free everyone in Olympus from their..."
My sentence is cut off abruptly as Elian, eyes firing into a terrible rage, launches himself towards me in a su
dden, violent motion.
He reaches out, arms outstretched, as I stumble and back away, a fear bursting within me as the monster is unleashed. Specks of fire even seem to swirl around him, sparks crackling around his head as though something is short-circuiting in his mind, as he rushes at me and takes a grip of my throat, pressing me to the floor with a dull thump as we hit.
I reach immediately to his hands, trying to draw them away, but he's far too strong for me.
"Elian...Elian, stop..." I rasp, my voice strangled to a hiss.
I can feel my neck being crushed, the air stopped in its tracks as it tries to rush in and out, my face burning to a heavy hue of red as I struggle and try to tear myself away.
I can't.
His weight on top of me is too much.
I wriggle only with a futile effort as his grip continues to strengthen, coiling like a python as his eyes, open and staring and full of rage and hate, stare directly at me, watching as I choke.
With a final burst I try to call out, to struggle from his grip, but it's no use. Hardly a peep comes from me as he silently strangles me, my mind turning foggy as the blackness begins to close in.
Elian's fingers don't relent, nor does that look of hate in his eyes.
Elian, this man who cares about me so deeply.
Murdering me right there on the hospital floor.
And just as my mind begins to close in, I hear a sudden commotion as the door flies open, and footsteps come rushing in from outside. With a tug, Elian's hands are torn from my neck, his body thrown off me and to one side. I just about sense him going crashing into a wall, crumpling to the floor as a huge figure looms above me, a New Haven Titan with arms as thick as legs, easily tossing Elian to one side.
And then, as other soldiers come rushing through to secure Elian, the darkness suddenly floods like water from a broken dam.
And my mind shuts off, drawing unconscious.
120
I've never liked wearing shirts, or anything with a collar.
