by T. C. Edge
I shrug again. "A couple of hours, maybe."
"Then you'll be fine to take these now. They'll help, trust me."
I look at the little pills in my palm. "They won't interfere with my suppression drugs?" I ask softly. "My intake of anything is being carefully monitored right now."
"It...should be fine," she says. She looks at me in a slightly different way now, as if realising I'm not such a bad person, not someone to be completely distrusted.
"Then, thanks," I tell her. "It is getting a little stiff."
I tip my neck back, with some fairly intense discomfort, and toss the pills into my mouth. The nurse steps over and hands me a glass of water, which I quickly gulp down to send the pills on their way.
"You don't seem so bad," she says, regarding me for a moment. "Why did you come here to destroy us?"
The question is direct, bitterly given, though I sense it's not about me specifically. Nevertheless, I turn my eyes down in shame, as though I'm to blame for everything. Really, the answer is too complicated to present in any straightforward way. I know, were I to try to explain, it would just sound like a series of excuses.
In the end, I give as simple an answer as I can. "Because we were all blind," I say, speaking of the army. "And led down the wrong path, by the only ones who could see..."
My eyes fall as I think of the Prime, detached and distant from me now, leading us all from afar on this great, deadly march to war. And keeping my gaze low, I hear the nurse move off, shutting the door quietly as she leaves.
I take a breath and drop into the seat, falling to my thoughts once again as I sit there, alone. I do so for a while, Jude remaining unconscious, breathing softly. Occasionally I stand and pace a little, or explore the room as if I'll find something interesting to distract me. There's nothing, really. Just a few locked cabinets, a couple of extra chairs, a table and tray used for feeding patients when they're bedridden here for extended periods.
I find myself completely un-interfered with, no one coming to check on me for some time. Here, unlike in the Oasis infirmary, the only window is on the door, the glass frosted and hard to see through. I can vaguely see figures moving occasionally by, but there appear to be no guards on duty. I wonder if this is just an oversight, or a show of trust. Whatever the case, even if I was so inclined, there's nowhere for me to go from here.
There's no clock in that room, giving me no indication of the time. I'm certain that at least an hour passes before I finally get bored and build up the nerve to reach for the door handle. I gently turn it down, eager to check the corridor outside, driven by curiosity if nothing else.
Behind me, Jude snores gently, his state of unconsciousness appearing to move from being 'knocked out', or whatever Kira did to him, to merely sleeping pleasantly. Like when I waited by Elian's bed, I could wake him, but something stays my hand. Probably this rare state of peacefulness he seems to be in. Sleep likely hasn't been easy to come by for him recently. And a comfy hospital bed? I can't take that away from him.
I grip the handle of the door, expecting to find it locked. To my mild surprise, it isn't. I pull down, gently, and slowly draw it open, my ears taking in the growing sounds of activity beyond as the City Guard hospital continues to fill.
I poke my head out furtively, just as a couple of medics walk by in rapid conversation. They glance at me but little more, probably not actually knowing who I am. My eyes scan left and right. There are a couple of guards around, but not specifically assigned to my door. I see Titus still there, down one end, in conversation with the medic who saw to Jude. I'm quick enough to slip back away as he guides his great boulder of a face in my direction.
I keep the door ajar, listening, enjoying the sounds of activity beyond. It seems to build up a little bit at Titus's end of the corridor. I hear footsteps coming, and peer out through the crack. Across the corridor, the medic who checked over Jude arrives, opening the door, and holding it as a couple of soldiers move through, carrying a stretcher with a figure upon it, strapped down under blankets and leather shackles.
Following in behind, I see Titus, and then Secretary Burns. They stop at the doorway.
"You can stop your peeking, Amber," comes Burns's voice, looking the opposite way.
As is always the case when you're caught looking, I feel a quick beat to my heart, that subsides just as swiftly. I step out and into the corridor, leaving the door to Jude's room open. It's clear enough, as I get a look into the opposite room, that it's Elian under supervision and strapped down on the gurney.
I look at him and frown. "Don't you think the straps are a bit much?" I ask.
"A bit much?" asks Titus, looking at me. "He almost killed you yesterday. Wouldn't have happened if he was strapped down."
"It's important for me to be protected when I work on him," says Burns. "We've upped his dosage of suppression drugs, but as you say, anger seems to burn them off. And he's likely to react quite badly when I attempt to get inside his mind, and sever the Prime's deeply embedded controls."
I shrug. "OK, fair enough," I say. I glance back towards the other room, Jude still sleeping soundly inside. "Was this intentional, putting them opposite one another like this. It's a bit...well, it's a bit weird for me."
"Why should it be weird?" asks Burns. "You are all in the same boat now, in essence. It's best to collect you here together."
"Yeah, I can tell you for sure that Elian and Jude are most certainly not in the same boat, Secretary Burns," I say. "They are very different, and come from entirely different backgrounds."
"But they both care about you deeply," cuts in Burns. "And are both from the northern realm. That gives them much in common. Now, have you spoken with young Jude yet?"
I shake my head, not really liking this new living situation. They'll probably give Perses a room next door to Elian next, with me opposite that. One big happy family. "He's still sleeping," I say. "And Elian's still unconscious?"
"He's been out since yesterday," Titus tells me. "Gave him a good shove into the wall. Not many would wake from that too quickly."
"Or, perhaps it's just the drugs we have him on," says Burns through a slight yawn. "I've instructed the medic to wake him now, and for Titus and his men to stand guard and keep a watch on him. We want him to contemplate, for a time, what he did to you. It will help me find weaknesses in his mental defences."
I nod, watching as the medic injects him with something. I feel a throb in my neck just looking in his direction. "This will help," I say, brushing my hair aside. "When he sees it, maybe it'll help him realise what's inside him." I shake my head. "I didn't know, until you probed at me, Secretary Burns. Perhaps he doesn't know it either."
I see a large frown tumble over Titus's eyes. The Titan is clearly slightly out of the loop here.
"A good idea, Amber," Burns says, looking into the room. "But not for now. I have to be somewhere else, and so, in fact, do you."
Now it's my turn to frown. "What?" I ask.
"Commander Ares and Hendricks have returned from burying the dead workers. They have gathered upstairs with the others to discuss affairs. Perses is there too, to offer his insights. We feel you may have your own to give."
"I..." A bout of nerves hits me. "Everyone is there? Including the Emperor?"
"Everyone who matters," Burns says. His eyes flick to Titus. "Oh, sorry, Titus. You...you know what I mean."
"No offence taken, Mr Secretary," grunts the big man. The slight scowl that follows suggests that at least some offence was taken.
"Well, they're gathering now," says Burns. "I imagine you've had your fair share of leadership meetings with your own army? You're surely used to it by now."
I nod, though hardly think it's the same thing.
"Keep watch, Captain Titus," Burns continues on, glancing up at the big man. "Amber, follow me. It's not far."
With a final look either side of me, first towards Elian, and then towards Jude, I press onwards after Burns at a brisk pace.
Wondering just how m
uch more weird and unexpected my life is going to become.
124
The grouping of people ahead of me is quite eclectic, gathered here from both sides of a vast ocean to discuss the future of their respective nations.
Essentially, as far as I can see it, that's what it boils down to; to ensure the security of both New Haven and Neorome - and, I'm inclined to think, particularly the former - the Prime has to be dealt with. It appears that the goal to oust them has now become intertwined with Brie's own capture and fate. If she should reach them and fall to their power, enhancing her own as a consequence, it might well put us all at risk, the mighty Neorome included, who have a dark history with overpowered telepaths.
I sit to one side, next to Perses, feeling quite happy to be hidden somewhat by his shadow. The room itself is one designed for meetings such as this, fitted with a large, rectangular table in the middle, curved at the corners, and sat around by the great and good gathered here in the city.
A moment ago, as I entered, I found myself introduced to the group in abbreviated fashion. It was Burns who filled the task, motioning me forward and simply saying, "You all know Amber, whether personally or by reputation. She has insights that may prove useful."
That's all he said, before pointing me towards a spare seat beside Perses, nicely tucked away at one of the curved corners. I find myself there now, scanning the table for the few people I haven't yet met. Along one side, the Neoromans sit, including Kira and her husband-to-be, Emperor Domitian, with Ares and Maximus on either side of them. Unlike the three I've met, who appear to adopt perpetually stern and serious demeanours, the Emperor himself looks a little more friendly of face.
He nods to me with a smile from across the room. He may be the most senior, and politically powerful figure in the room, but also appears to be the most down to earth, carrying an affable energy along with him.
The other side of the table is filled with the Havenites, including Commander Hendricks, Deputy Commander Winchester, and the young man called Adryan who I know to be the President's senior aid, who I recognise from the meeting between our leadership parties upon the plains.
Then, there's the President at the top, directing matters, and Burns, thankfully, at the bottom, right next to me. I would have expected a few more people to have been here, such as other senior secretaries within the city hierarchy, but it seems that they're not required. This, Burns told me on the way, is a military operation only, and therefore those without military expertise haven't been included.
It's a tight group, it would appear, who have been through a fair bit together, particularly recently. I don't imagine there's going to be a huge amount of dissent or disagreement here. It is more a discussion to determine just how best to proceed, given what we now know.
And to that end, the President is currently speaking. The topic of reinforcements from Neorome - a critical one, it would appear - is currently on the table.
"Emperor Domitian," she says to the young man with the olive skin, luxuriant, curly brown hair, and warm eyes to match. I can immediately see what Kira sees in him. Power. Good looks. A charming personality and smile. He reminds me a little of Jude, and a little of Elian, actually, a combination of the two. More like Jude in looks, and Elian in lazy charm.
Well, the old Elian, at least...
"What is the current state of affairs in Neorome?" the President continues, breaking me from my childish whimsy. "I hear you've made some progress?"
The Emperor stands and addresses the room, passing a smile to each of us before speaking. "Progress, yes," he informs us, his accent slightly exotic, warm as his locks and looks. "Emperor Lucius has been working hard to secure more men. He has managed to bend enough of the senate to our cause. I believe this news of the Olympian retreat will further aid in his attempts to sway Senator Tiberius."
I listen to the names, trying to work out the political system they employ. I'm no detective, but it sounds to me that Domitian is but one of two Emperors, and that they cannot do much without the support of their senate. If I were to guess, I'd say the structure has changed since he took the leadership from his mother, Empress Vesper, and now they're looking to share power around a little more.
A good idea in theory, but perhaps, in this case, not so much in practice.
"Excellent news," says the President. "Do we have any idea of numbers, or a possible timescale?"
"Not as of yet," the Emperor says. "I believe they are gathering now to discuss these new developments. I'm hoping it will be the final straw in forcing Senator Tiberius's hand. To continue to deny support now would present him as a coward. That isn't something a Neoroman, even a career politician, can stomach."
"And if it turns out as you say?" asks the President, pressing him a little. He appears the sort who likes to speak a lot when holding the floor.
"Then our forces could be assembled within a day or two. Then they'd have to get here. So, another week, perhaps."
"Then ten days?" says the President, summing up.
"Roughly."
"It's too long," grunts Kira, quite different to her betrothed in character. She doesn't stand, but merely sits forward, hands in front of her and resting on the table, fingers gripped tight together. "The Olympians will be halfway back home by then. We can't give them that much of a head start."
Beside me, I see Perses shift his movement, drawing the attention of the President.
"Yes, Perses," she says. "You have something to say?"
"I do, Madam President," rumbles his voice. He stands to his feet, and eyes the room. I look up at him from my perch by his side, starting to see something of the old Perses, so commanding and authoritative, reappear. "It may," he begins, speaking slowly, "take the Olympian army less time to get home. They are a sleeker outfit now given their losses, and the route has already been carved and travelled. It took us three weeks to get here, but the delay was largely caused by the circumstances we faced, such as having to forge large parts of the route ourselves, clearing away debris and other such obstacles in our path as we went. Travelling to war is also different to retreating from it. The army will not need to rest so much, or be in a fit state to fight when they arrive. Nor will they be concerned about attacks, as we were when we drew closer to this city, or have to consider strategy during the approach." He takes a breath and looks around the room. "They will travel light, and fast," he says. "It will not take them so long."
"So what are you saying, Herald Perses?" asks the President. "How long might it take them?"
I see him flinch just a little at the use of his title. It is, perhaps, a reminder of what he was. The man who died, and has been reborn, no longer carries it.
He considers it a second, then speaks. "Half that, at the very most," he says, drawing a few concerned looks from the room. "However, I wouldn't be surprised if they managed it in less than a week."
"Less than a week?" asks Kira, growing more animated. She stands to her feet, and flicks her cat-like eyes towards the President, prowling like a predator. "We can't wait," she says. "They'd be back home before the reinforcements even get here!"
"How many men do you currently have?" asks Perses, increasing in presence. He looks to the various commanders.
Burns takes the floor. "Not enough," he says. "At least, not enough to offer an active siege. We were always outnumbered by your forces, Perses. Your soldiers suffered more greatly than ours, but we are still significantly behind in sheer volume of fighting men. And I assume you have your own reinforcements back in Olympus?"
Perses nods. It's a test, almost, to see how far he's really come. To reveal military information from his own home? To give them to what was, only days ago, his enemy? It can't be easy for him, even now. Yet he, like me, has made his bed.
It's time to snuggle up and fall asleep in that thing.
"We left soldiers there in the city, yes, and protecting our borders," he says. "The army that marched here was only a portion of our available forces. A large portion,
yes, but..."
"How large?" cuts in Hendricks. "We need specifics, Perses. If you're truly committed to helping us make a change in your lands, then you can't give us simple platitudes."
Perses nods, taking a pause. "You're right, Commander Hendricks," he says. "Of course you need specifics." He looks around the room again. "Half," he says. "Our numbers here amounted to half of our available soldiers."
"Half?" says Hendricks, his eyes widening. "But you came here with five thousand men! You're saying your army is ten thousand strong?" He looks to Burns specifically, the senior military commander in attendance. "We cannot deal with those numbers," he says. "We simply don't have the strength."
Burns nods sagely. "We learned, Perses," he says, his voice ever calm and measured, "that many of your fighting men here were inexperienced. Is that true?"
I look up at Perses, who has now taken his seat. Still, he towers above me.
"Yes, it is true," he says, confirming what I always suspected. "I would say that most of our army here hadn't seen conflict of this sort before. Many were straight out of the academy. They had been prepared for war, but hadn't yet experienced it."
"And I can therefore suppose that the remaining five thousand that you left behind are similarly inexperienced?" asks Burns.
"That would be accurate," Perses says. "Their commanders have seen conflict, but that isn't true of most of the men."
Burns looks to Ares. "You reported that the bulk of the Olympian army wasn't a match for your Neoroman troops," he says.
Ares nods, glancing at Perses. "Yes, Secretary Burns," comes his resounding voice. "However, we have some of the finest Neoroman troops here with us. They would outmatch most opponents, even those considered elite."
"Any reinforcements we get from Neorome," adds the Emperor, "will not be quite so formidable, at least not in single combat. The Imperial Guards we have here are some of the finest gladiators and even champions Neorome has produced. The standing army isn't the same. Man for man, they aren't as powerful, though as a collective unit, they are extremely potent."
