Good. Now push out until you find someone.
Why don’t you do it?
I’ve already told you. I can’t. I’m breaking enough rules as it is.
Fine. David let a wave of frustration wash over him and fade away, refusing to attach any importance to it. He expanded his mind’s view to include the rest of the cell, then focused on the door. To his surprise, he moved his vision beyond it and into the corridor, where he found a guard. The short man was sitting down, scratching his chin. I’ve found one. Now what?
Nothing. You must find an animal.
David’s eyes snapped open. There are no animals in this cursed place!
“What’s wrong?” Cyrus asked. “Can’t you do it?”
David breathed loudly through his nostrils, nickering like a horse. “I did. But I can find no animals to help us.”
Gella, sitting cross-legged across the room, looked up. “I still don’t get what he’s trying to do.”
David pushed his palms against his eyes until sparkling dots filled the darkness. “If I can get an animal to press the button that opens our door, perhaps we could escape.”
“An animal?” Gella asked.
David looked up and opened his mouth, but Cyrus spoke first.
“Yes, like a rat, or a cat or something. Problem is, David can’t find a suitable animal around.”
“No, I mean, David can what? Force an animal to do his will?” Gella unwrapped her arms from around her legs, sounding incredulous.
“Pretty much,” Cyrus said, bobbing his head. “He’s done it before.”
Sadness stabbed at David at the memory of Satsi, Two-Horns’ son. “Just once,” he murmured. “It’s harder than I remember. But I can’t find any animals around.”
“I don’t get it. If he can force an animal, why can’t he do the same with a guard?” Gella asked.
“Yes, why can’t he?” Cyrus asked in a mocking tone.
“I can’t,” David snapped. “You know why.”
“I don’t,” Gella said. She rose slowly to her feet, leaning against the wall for support. “Won’t someone please explain?”
“If I possess a human, I’m no better than the Whispers,” David said with a tired sigh.
“If you don’t, Pearseus dies,” Gella pointed out.
David rose to his feet, his legs aching from being still for so long. “So be it. What’s the point of becoming a Whisper in order to fight them? I don’t want humanity to live with me as a new sort of Whisper. I want us to live in order to make this a better world.”
Gella shuffled closer and took his hand in hers. “You’re exaggerating.”
“Am I? If we use the Whispers’ tools, we’re no better than them. Why should we survive then? What difference does it make if we live or die?”
Gella let go of his hand and glared at him. “Isn’t bending your principles just once a small price to pay to save mankind? To save us?”
David bit his lip in frustration. They don’t get it! Before he could respond, the door opened and Sebastian walked in.
“A clone!” Gella shouted and stepped between Sebastian and David. She lowered her body, preparing for an attack. The sudden exertion made the blood leave her face.
She’s so weak. David pulled her back, doing his best to hide his anxiety. “It’s all right. This is Sebastian.”
Gella’s eyebrow shot upward. “They have names?”
“This one does,” Sebastian said. He closed the door behind him and stared at the three companions for a long time.
Cyrus looked up from the corner where he’d been lying down. He, too, looked exhausted. “Well, speak up.”
“I’m here to help you escape.”
Fennel Bay
Sol
Bands of pink blended into the dark purple of the horizon as the day rose. Beside her, the standard-bearer patiently awaited her command. Her gaze studied the shore, where countless fires were dying out, their flicker highlighting simple tents. To the right, an awkward protrusion showed where Teo’s hated contraption stood.
Between them lay the silent, sandy field that separated them from the invaders. Attacking was the right decision, but came with a potentially terrible cost. And yet, not attacking comes with an even greater cost. She pressed her lips together and turned quietly around. Line after line of soldiers dressed for battle met her gaze. They lifted their eyes to her.
“Teo Altman,” she started, looking them one after another in the eye. “We know him well. Thirteen years ago, he tried to establish his tyranny. Anthea exiled him. He has now returned, seeking revenge. But a hunter who hunts for revenge—not to protect, nor to survive—shall soon become prey himself.”
Her gaze lifted to the banner flapping in the wind, carrying Anthea’s owl in silver and gold thread, an olive laurel in her claws. “And yet, today is not about Altman. It’s about Anthea. And I don’t stand before you as a general, nor as a leader. I stand as a citizen.
“They call us the Democracies. But what does that mean? Yes, we hold elections. We choose our leaders. And our administration is in the hands of the many and not of the few. But it also means that we don’t enter into rivalry with others. We don’t copy our neighbors, but are an example to them.
“Our law secures equal justice to all alike. Respect for the authorities and the laws prevents us from doing wrong. But we also observe those unwritten laws that distinguish man from beast. We don’t follow the law’s letter, we follow its spirit.
“Yet, while we’re all equal before the law, we also recognize excellence. When a citizen is in any way distinguished, he is preferred to public service, not as a matter of privilege, but as a reward of merit. Neither is poverty a bar. Any man may benefit our city, whatever his social status. There is no exclusiveness in our public life, and in our private lives we are not suspicious of one another, nor angry with our neighbor if he does what he likes.
“Being poor bears no disgrace for us; the only disgrace is in doing nothing to avoid it. An Anthean citizen doesn’t neglect the state because he takes care of his own household; and even those of us who are engaged in business have a pretty good idea of politics. We alone regard a man who takes no interest in public affairs, not as harmless, but as dangerous; and although few of us legislate, we are all sound judges of a policy.
“We are unlike others, for we make our friends by conferring favors, not by receiving them. We alone do good to our neighbors not upon a calculation of interest, but in the confidence of freedom. That is why Anthea is the school of Pearseus, and each of us an example to others.
“That is what you’re fighting today to preserve. Many of us shall perish. But such a death gives the true measure of a man's worth. It may be the first revelation of his virtues, or their final seal. For even those who come short in other ways may justly plead the valor with which they’ve fought for Anthea. They have blotted out any evil with their battles, and have benefited the city more by their service than they have injured her by their private actions.
“None of you are here because you’ve resigned life’s pleasures. You’re here because the protection of our city is sweeter than any pleasure. And now that war is upon us, you have chosen to resist and suffer, rather than to run and save your lives. Even though you’ve run away from dishonor, on the battlefield your feet will stand fast. And should you die in the field today, it will be at the height of your fortune, when you meet undying glory.”
She pointed at the flapping banner. “You are all children of Anthea and worthy of her. Fix your eyes upon her greatness, until you become filled with love for her; and while you’re impressed by her glory, reflect that this city has been built by men who knew their duty and had the courage to do it. The collective sacrifice we make today will be individually repaid, for each and every one of us shall receive a praise which shall never grow old. Let your courage be your freedom, and your freedom be your happiness. For cowardice and disaster are far more bitter than death to a man of spirit.
�
�These are no passing and idle words, but truth and fact; and the proof lies in the position to which these qualities have raised Anthea. For, in this hour of trial, Anthea stands alone. And alone it shall prevail.” She shouted these last words, intoning every one of them.
The men and women thumped their spears on the soft sand, their eyes filled with emotion. The ground shook with a low rumble.
Sol nodded to the standard-bearer, a young blond boy not older than Saul would have been. Had Altman not murdered him. She clenched her teeth in rage as the boy raised the standard and a shout rose to the heavens.
The Capital
Sebastian
Sebastian stared at the bug-eyed group before him. If only you knew. Or has the priest already told you what you’ve become?
“Why?” Gella asked, a frown marring her forehead as she scanned his face.
“Because…” He fought to find the right words, keenly aware of the choice he had to make. Do I really help them? Or do I lead them to freedom—and to their kind’s death? His mouth twisted. What the hell. So what if their kind dies away? It’s only just. “Because I don’t—” Anna’s vision flickered at the room’s edge, interrupting him. He fixed his gaze on her. Blood was trickling from a thin line around her throat, where he had cut her. Again, she was holding her baby in her arms. Her unborn baby. Sick rose to his throat, burning him.
“Who are you?” she asked in a hushed whisper before fading away like a pale wisp of smoke.
He gaped at the empty space for what felt like hours, his thoughts bouncing inside his head like tiny rubber balls. He chewed on one thought after another, gnawing away as if they there were seeds or pulp, then spat it out again. Every time he felt he had managed to balance his thoughts atop each other to reach a conclusion, the simple question echoed in his head and it all came tumbling down.
Who are you? Her voice echoed in his head, drowning out every other thought.
He let out a frustrated scream and banged his fist against the wall. “Enough!” he hollered. His breath came out heavy, as if he had been running. “Enough,” he repeated, quietly this time.
He scanned the shocked faces gawking at him. “The priest wants me to help you escape.” Eerie calm filled him. “I was going to take you close to an exit, then let you overpower me.” He glanced at their drawn faces and their frail bodies. “Like that could happen,” he muttered.
“Why?” Cyrus asked.
“The plague. You’re all carriers by now. Anyone you meet will die in a few weeks.”
They recoiled from him, eyeing him like a monster. He avoided their shocked stares, studying his boots instead.
“Why are you telling us this?” David asked.
Sebastian considered explaining about Anna. They wouldn’t understand. “Much as it pains me to admit, this planet needs you. You’re all it’s got left. We…” His voice choked with emotion. “We have lost. The Iotas are no more. Even a planet overcome with vermin is better than a dead one.”
“Thank you,” David said softly.
“For what?” Cyrus groaned, rolling his eyes. “How do we even know he’s telling us the truth?”
David studied Sebastian. “He’s telling the truth,” he said after a while. “Of that, I have no doubt. Sebastian’s not a clone, he’s as human as you and I.”
“Not a compliment in my mind,” Sebastian said with a growl that spilled into a hearty laugh.
“Do clones laugh?” Gella whispered in David’s ear.
“Didn’t you hear? Apparently, I’m human now,” Sebastian said, clasping his ribs and trying to stop chortling. He wiped tears from his eyes. “I’m human.”
“That’s great,” Cyrus said, interrupting him. “But what do we do?”
“Is there no cure?” Gella asked.
“To humanity?” Sebastian joked. “I doubt it.” The hope in her eyes soured the joke and made him look away, the laughter dying on his lips. “To the plague? I don’t know.”
“The vaccine,” Cyrus said. “The priest said there’s one. Maybe it’s a cure, too. Do you know where it is?”
Sebastian thought of the lower levels, the ones he had seen the doctors come from. “I think so. I can take you there. But we may have to fight our way through the guards.”
Gella’s lips broke into a wide grin. She rolled her shoulder as if working out kinks and cracked frail-looking knuckles. “Good.”
Fennel Bay
Teo
“My Lord, the Antheans are attacking!”
The aide’s shrill voice woke him from a deep slumber. It took a few moments for the words to sink in, then his eyes flew open. “What?” His voice sounded gravelly with sleep.
“The Antheans,” the woman repeated, out of breath. “They’re marching down the field.”
He threw the blanket off him and swiveled his feet onto the soft carpet. “Now?”
“Now!”
She draped him with a woolen cloak and he bolted out the tent, shouting for his officers.
The general ran to him first. “My Lord—”
“I’ve heard,” Teo barked. “Where’s the cavalry?”
“It’s reached the far end of the marshes. They’re disembarking.”
“Signal them to return. Now!”
“Yes, my Lord.” The man paused, as if debating whether to speak or not. “But the Antheans will be upon us within minutes.”
“Then do your job,” Teo screamed. “Fight them! Stop them!”
“Yes, my Lord,” the general shouted louder than necessary and ran away, bellowing orders.
Teo hurried to the cannon. The engineer was clanging away at a furious pace. At least this guy knows what he’s doing. “Tell me we’re ready.”
The man lifted his head from a bolt he was pounding with a wrench. His moustache quivered. “Not yet, my Lord. I need at least an hour—”
“We don’t have an hour,” Teo roared. “They’re coming! You’ve got to fire now.”
The man’s face reddened. “My Lord, it could blow up the—”
“I don’t care if it splits the planet in two. Do it!”
“Yes, my Lord!”
The man disappeared into the beast’s bowels. When he reappeared, he bit his lip and motioned everyone to clear the area, then tapped the controls. A tremor passed under the metal skin. With a loud groan and a quiver like a wet dog shaking off water, the weapon lifted its nozzle, ready for the first shot.
The Antheans were now visible up the hill, marching in three tight groups.
“Fire!” Teo screamed.
For a moment, the cannon hesitated, as if considering the order. It then recoiled in anger. Ba-Thump! A thin line of smoke split the morning fog. It overtook the marching Antheans to disappear behind them.
“Lower!”
The engineer moved various sliders and rotated a small wheel. The barrel inched downward. He hit a button. The cannon shook and shivered. Blistering steam covered it. The engineer punched controls furiously.
Ba-Thump! Another thin line of smoke rose in the air. It landed where the rapidly advancing Antheans had been a few moments ago, raising a thick cloud of sand.
The engineer swore. His hands flew all over the controls. He peeked through a scope and hit a button. The tremors intensified. Bolts flew. One of them caught a running soldier and tore a piece of his arm away. The man screamed and fell to the ground, blood pouring onto the sand.
Teo jumped to the ground and covered his head. Son of a…
Ba-Thump! The fat nozzle spat out a third shot. It flew over the Anthean lines to raise another cloud of sand.
“What are you doing?” Teo screamed, still on the ground. “Hit them!”
“I can’t,” the engineer cried out. “By the time I take aim, they’ve moved.” He peered through the scope again. “They’re too close for another shot, my Lord. We risk blowing up our own troops.”
Teo rose slowly and kicked the cannon, wincing at the pain. He briefly considered killing the engineer on the spot. I’d bet
ter do it later. That way, all will see what happens to idiots. “Forget it. The archers will take care of them.” The Anthean fortifications caught his eye. Sol would be standing over there, sniggering. Let’s wipe the smile from her face. “Aim at their fortifications. I want them reduced to toothpicks by the time the battle’s over.”
The engineer’s eyes showed his relief. He pulled levers and the tremors subsided. “Yes, my Lord.”
The Capital
David
Sebastian placed his palm on a box outside the door.
“DNA confirmed,” a woman’s voice said, and the door swished open.
Sebastian motioned them to wait while he walked through. A moment later, he waved for them to follow him. They stepped over the bodies of two dead guards, their eyes still open in shock.
“Wait!” Gella searched the first corpse and took a dagger for herself. She threw a short sword to Cyrus and a silver cylinder to David.
“What about me?” Cyrus complained, while sheathing the sword. “Don’t I get a silver thingy?”
Gella moved to the second body and picked up a second dagger before throwing Cyrus a cylinder. “Hope you two know how to use these things.”
David raised his weapon. His finger found the indentation he expected, and a spark crackled at its tip. An ancient word bubbled to his mind. “They’re called tasers. They will stun anyone they touch. Just press this.” He pointed at the button.
Cyrus fiddled with his taser and a satisfied grin appeared on his face as a spark appeared. “How about something long-range?”
“I’ve got my weapon,” Sebastian said, and pulled out a rod. “Sorry, just the one.”
“If they know you’re supposed to help us escape, things should be pretty quiet,” David said.
Pearseus Bundle: The Complete Pearseus Sci-fi/Fantasy Series Page 105
