Prometheus Ascends (The Great Insurrection Book 6)

by David Beers

  “The dossier on you says you don’t drink. That’s true?” His voice was soft, but she could hear it well enough.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Why not?”

  Petra had spoken to superior officers before; she knew the protocol for answering questions, even personal ones. She’d never been questioned by someone this high up, though, or been asked such a deep question. Did she tell him about her father’s problems with alcohol as a young man? Did she talk about the allure of it for her—something that seemed dark and forbidding but that she wanted all the same?

  The man was waiting for an answer.

  “Someone my size needs every possible advantage in battle, my liege. Alcohol can dull the wits and slow the body. I mean no disrespect to your majesty by saying such things.”

  The Ascendant smiled and looked at the bottle of wine. “None taken. I don’t usually drink this much, but it has been quite a day. Quite a month, really.” He paused for a moment and didn’t look up from the bottle when he continued. “Your dedication to the Commonwealth. Has anyone ever asked you about it? Have you ever talked about it with anyone?”

  An odd question, but then, nothing about this encounter was what she’d call normal. “There were a few self-psychology tests given in the Academy. I’ve spoken to my parents and brother about it as well, but that’s it.”

  He picked up his wine glass and gently swirled the liquid. “I brought you here because I wanted to hear about it. Why do you hold the Commonwealth in such high regard, Petra?”

  He sipped his wine and set the glass down, then his eyes fell on her. They didn’t look tipsy anymore. To Petra, they looked like they could see through her.

  That gaze forced her answer out almost immediately. “The Commonwealth is what separates us from animals, my liege. Without the Commonwealth…” She dropped her eyes, staring down at the table and remembering what she knew of the past. “War, hunger, disease, hate—all of it existed in quantities we don’t see today. Is there still murder? Of course. Hate? Yes, it still exists. Nothing can completely eradicate the dark side of humanity, but the Commonwealth has made the largest steps of any organization I’ve ever seen.”

  She looked up, unsure if she’d gone too far.

  The Ascendant was looking at her with narrowed eyes. He twirled his fingers, obviously aware that she had more to say on the subject.

  “‘Demockracy’ destroyed nations. The monarchs were never strong enough or wise enough to take care of their people long-term. Every government failed eventually. Even the Roman Empire can’t be compared to ours, my liege. If it took a month to pass a message, the Commonwealth has lasted a thousand times as long as they did. Maybe a million times.” She swallowed. “The Commonwealth is humanity’s first and last light.”

  The penetrating look disappeared and the Ascendant smiled. He tipped his glass toward her slightly, the purple liquid moving closer to the lip. “I’m not sure I could have said it better, Petra.” He placed the glass down and looked at the tank. Petra followed his gaze. “Everything I do, everything I’ve ever done, it’s all been to keep the Commonwealth safe. Perhaps the only way I would differ in my explanation is that the Commonwealth isn’t just the government, it’s the people too. Protecting them from their worst instincts, as well as from foreign enemies, has been my life’s work.

  “I have something I’d like to ask of you, and I was going to do it now, but the wine has made me too talkative. I know you have a big day ahead of you tomorrow, but would you spare me a few more moments?”

  Feeling a bit freer to speak than when she first arrived, Petra blurted the answer. “I may never get another chance to be in front of you, my liege. If you’d like me to listen, nothing could pull me away.”

  “Thank you.” He pursed his lips. “My upbringing was different than anyone else’s to ever live, except for the male heirs in the de Finita lineage…”

  Chapter Seven

  That was what the people who wanted his throne didn’t understand. They hadn’t dedicated the time to earn it. Even Caius, with his enhanced mutant grandson, hadn’t invested what Alexander had. Perhaps as an adult he’d grown complacent, maybe even weak by his ancestors’ standards, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t trained his entire life for what was coming.

  He had.

  It didn’t matter what the Fathers said or how they scoffed during their meetings.

  Alexander knew what he’d grown up under, and he knew the ones who wanted the throne hadn’t.

  The story he told Petra de Osimian was one that had taken place when he was eleven years old. His father would have been about fifty since the de Finita males had their children late, spending the early years of their lives establishing their rule.

  Alexander’s father’s name was Tessius, and he still missed the man. True, he could go speak with his uploaded consciousness or a version of it, but not alone. The others would be there too.

  Tessius had been hard, harder than anyone ever knew. Alexander’s mother had accepted her role when she took Tessius’ hand in marriage. The raising of Alexander would be done under his father’s strict guidance and all-seeing vision.

  Nothing took place within Tessius’ domain that he didn’t have direct knowledge of. Much of Alexander’s day-to-day instruction was given by teachers other than his father. He hadn’t been trained to use the legendary Whip or learned history and advanced mathematics. He was a polymath and a fine physical specimen in his own right.

  Yet his father always took time with him.

  They had gone to the beach that week on what was supposed to be a vacation. His father took one each year, and they usually went to the same place. It was across the Atlantic ocean, and their house resided on a beautiful cliff that looked over the water. At the cliff’s bottom, a beach waited, and in the evenings, their small family would go down to it.

  Those were some of the sweetest memories Alexander had. For a few moments, his father forgot everything or appeared to and they were simply a family.

  Most of the time.

  The day he told Petra about, the rain was coming, and it would be a hard storm. Dark clouds danced overhead, and the wind was whipping the grassy lawn as if it were angry. In the distance, Alexander could see lightning touching down on the ocean.

  He was outside, sitting in a chair a few feet from the cliff. It was about time to go in, he knew that, but he wanted to study a bit longer. Alexander took his studies seriously, even at that young age, and he wanted to read his papers one more time. He would have a verbal test when they returned home, and he knew Professor Alrain wouldn’t care where he’d been.

  Alexander stood up to leave, and the wind ripped the papers from his hand.

  His hands shot out to grab them, but the wind was too strong. He watched as all hundred sheets rushed higher than he could jump, then tumbled over the cliff.

  He stepped forward and watched them streaming toward the sand, caught in a wind tunnel. It’d been his father who’d insisted he use paper and not a DataTrack, saying paper helped the mind learn better.

  Now the paper was scattered, and rain was coming.

  As he turned, knowing he would have to tell his father, it started to fall. Big fat wet drops hit his head.

  He reached the porch door and went inside. His father was sitting on a couch, a DataTrack in his lap.

  Alexander opened his mouth to say something, but his father spoke first. “Do you understand what you just did?”

  “I lost my studies,” the boy answered.

  Thunder ripped through the outside air, loud and cracking.

  “Do you know the work that goes into creating the paper you use, Alexander? You’re privileged in ways you won’t understand until you’re older. Countless man-hours are spent so you can have the very best because one day, mankind’s hopes are going to rest on your shoulders.” Tessius finally looked up, his face lean like all the de Finita men. “You were careless with that paper, waiting too long to come back in. You were careless with
those man-hours spent on you, and you were careless with the future of our people.”

  Alexander’s eyes didn’t fill with tears, nor did his face quiver.

  His father continued, “I shut the elevator down for maintenance earlier today. You don’t have any copies of those papers, do you?”

  Alexander shook his head.

  “Go get them, son. Hurry before they’re lost. Other people can be careless, but a de Finita can’t. Your future as well as humanity’s is down there on those papers.” With that, his father turned back to the DataTrack.

  Alexander knew he had a choice. His father wasn’t the type to command, yell, or rage. He’d given him an instruction and the reasoning behind it, but if he decided to remain in the house, Tessius wouldn’t mention it again.

  A de Finita didn’t follow orders because he didn’t need to. A de Finita was the most disciplined of men as well as the wisest.

  Alexander’s discipline forced him back out into the storm.

  The rain hit so hard it stung. The waves were growing larger, and the wind?

  Alexander understood it was hopeless. That the papers, if they weren’t floating in the white-capped waves, were soaked or had ripped apart on rocks.

  Alexander understood what his father had meant when he’d said the elevator was out of service. There was only one other way down: the cliff face.

  He started running across the lawn, heading toward the shortest part of the cliff face he knew of. He knew how to rock-climb; he’d trained on it for years, but usually one had ropes, pulleys, and supports.

  None of that existed now.

  He made his way down as fast as he could. The strength of the wind was growing with each passing minute, but Alexander couldn’t focus on or worry about that. He had to concentrate on each piece of drenched rock he touched.

  The rain beat on him so hard he could barely see.

  Ten feet from the bottom, he lost his grip.

  The fall wasn’t long, but he landed on his back, which knocked the wind out of him. Thunder roared across the sky as blood dripped from a gash across his forehead. He’d broken his left arm in the fall. The pain was excruciating, and at first, combined with the lack of oxygen, he couldn’t compartmentalize it all.

  After sixty seconds or so, Alexander was able to focus again. He shoved the pain down, almost able to disconnect it due to his training. He got to his feet and looked across the wind-swept beach. He saw no papers. He could hardly see anything, the rain was so thick.

  Alexander never glanced at the cliff or where his home resided atop it. He understood his duty. He went forward into wind that knocked him down from time to time.

  He searched up and down the beach, venturing into the water.

  For hours and hours, he looked. The storm grew worse and lightning lit the night sky, but the young man didn’t shirk his task. Tessius never came down to look for him, not even as the light grew brighter in the distance, the sun making its presence known.

  The storm finally passed, and Alexander stood bleeding, broken, and exhausted at the bottom of the cliff. He knew what was required of him. He had to climb back up, but he also knew there was no way his arm would support him. He couldn’t do it with only three limbs, which meant he’d failed.

  A small ding came from the cliff’s elevator. Alexander could just see it from where he stood; the door was open. It would only occur to him much later that maybe the elevator had not been out of service.

  Alexander stumbled across the sand toward it. He’d lost one shoe when a wave had unexpectedly crashed down on him, and he had discarded the other at some point.

  No one met him at the elevator; it was empty, waiting for a single occupant. Alexander stepped inside, and the door closed.

  His muscles shook as he ascended to the house. He’d never been so tired in his life.

  Finally, Alexander reached the lawn and stepped out of the elevator. He slowly walked to the porch and then inside the house. His father was in the same position he’d been when Alexander had left.

  The Imperial Ascendant didn’t look up from his DataTrack. “Did you retrieve them?”

  Alexander swallowed, knowing he’d failed. “I found fifty-two.”

  “Out of how many?” his father asked.

  “A hundred.”

  Tessius looked up, though he wasn’t facing his son. He nodded with pursed lips. “Your carelessness lost quite a few. I think you injured your arm as well, and you’ll need to get it looked at immediately. Those are more resources that will need to be spent because of your carelessness, Alexander.” His father finally turned to meet the boy’s eyes. He held all the papers he’d found in his right hand. They were torn, dirty, and bent, but he held them just the same. “You messed up, but you did the best you could to make things right. In some ways, those papers are like humanity. Your carelessness can put them in danger, Alexander, but some of those papers wouldn’t be found if I sent a team out there after them. Some papers will always be lost, and some of our people will too.”

  Tessius stood up then. He didn’t hug his son or offer condolences. “Go to the med-room and have that looked at. I hope you learned your lesson.”

  Alexander had.

  Chapter Eight

  The Imperial Ascendant finished speaking. He tapped the side of his glass, staring at it. He was quiet for a long moment, and Petra didn’t dare interrupt the silence.

  “I’ve never told anyone that story. You’re the first and most likely will be the last.”

  Petra was surprised by her next question. “Why?”

  De Finita didn’t look up, only kept tapping his glass. “Because of what I’m going to ask you to do.”

  “What’s that?”

  He glanced at her. “You’ve met your commander for the coming invasion?”

  “Yes, my liege.”

  The Ascendant turned so that he faced her and moved the glass of wine to the side of the table. “His name is Hector de Gracilis. His grandfather is Caius de Gracilis. You’ve heard of him, yes?”

  “One of the greatest Titans ever to live, and the first to jump to propraetor,” she answered.

  “That’s right. What I’m going to tell you next, Petra, cannot be repeated. Only I am privileged to know this information, so if it spreads, there’s only one person I’m going to look at for an explanation. Do you understand?”

  Petra nodded. She understood what he was saying. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear it, though. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear any more about any of this—not his history, not the future. She only wanted to be a soldier.

  None of that mattered, apparently. Life had other plans for her.

  “Caius and his grandson Hector are plotting to overthrow me.”

  Petra couldn’t hold back her surprise. Her eyes widened, and her hands gripped her thighs. The Ascendant nodded, noticing her shock.

  “It won’t be a violent coup d’état, at least not in the beginning. Caius has been planning this for long years, and only now has he shown his final card: the mutant Hector.” He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “What I’m asking you to do, Petra, is be at his side all the time. I want to know what he does, when he does it, how he thinks, and anything that could relate to them overthrowing the Commonwealth.”

  “Hector?” Petra asked, feeling stupid the second the word left her mouth.

  The Ascendant nodded again. “There are a few details you should know before you decide to accept this. I’ve arranged for you to be his capo, his second in command. He’s going to suspect you of being my plant, but there’s not a lot that can be done about that. He’ll be surrounded by his own warriors for the most part, Mars born and bred. I won’t say it won’t be dangerous for you because I imagine if they find out you’re a scout for me, an accident might befall you. Do you understand?”

  “I think so,” Petra replied.

  “If you do accept this assignment, you’ll be doing the Commonwealth a great service. We are facing the greatest threat since
its inception, and risking a coup at the same time would be too much for the pillars of our government to withstand. If you accept this task, you’ll help hold those pillars together.”

  Petra’s mind was rapidly assimilating everything she was being told. At first, it’d been hard to take everything in. “May I ask how often you’ll need me to report, my liege?”

  “As often as necessary.” Any trace of the tipsiness he’d shown in the beginning was gone. “At least once a week, and in the beginning, perhaps once every few days. I am relatively certain he’s using stealth technology to block his conversations, though I can’t accuse him of it yet. You’ll be the Commonwealth’s way around that.”

  “May I ask why someone would want to overthrow you, my liege?”

  The Ascendant leaned back in his chair and tilted his head to watch the glass tank. After a few moments, he shrugged. “Everyone wants more power. It’s in our nature to accumulate more. Perhaps Caius thinks he could rule better than me? He probably does because everything looks easier to the man watching. Only those performing know how hard it is to achieve every day. In the end, I guess it’s that simple.” He met her eyes. “In my position, I tell no one everything. I’m the only one who holds all the knowledge of the Commonwealth. I tell very few most things. Tonight you have been elevated to a level almost no one else will ever reach. It is both a privilege and a duty to know such things. The reason they want the throne is that they think they could do my job better, and they want to accumulate more power for their families. Do you have any other questions, Petra?”

  She felt like the entire night had been rushed and her whole life had changed in a matter of seconds. She’d been prepared to die over the next few weeks because of the threat the former Titan posed. Now she was being told that another threat existed inside the Commonwealth, and she was being asked to…

  Help the Commonwealth.

  Only one question came to her mind at that moment, though later, there would be many more. For now, she could only think of a single important possibility. “Will I be tasked with killing him?”