by David Beers
His eyes flicked to the right as he heard the train arriving. It was slowing down, and the air it pushed forward rushed across his bare face.
Alistair stood, not rolling his helmet up. He kept his Whip in hand but didn’t unfurl it. His old friend was ready to kill, though; Alistair could tell. Its sentience felt him, and it was ready to do the business it knew so well.
The train pulled to a stop.
Alistair stepped forward.
He watched as the kill squad stepped off.
They’d seen him at the train depot since he arrived, and Petra had watched as Hector stood up, staring at the screen in front of him. Hector didn’t move an inch, only stood staring at the man he’d come to kill.
They’d been getting updates, and while her Primus felt certain he wasn’t by himself, they’d found no one else. Petra realized the Commonwealth’s arrogance had gotten the better of them this time. They’d thought the Terram hadn’t built on this side of the world, out of laziness or lack of time or something else. The fire surrounding the planet should have immediately told them that wasn’t the case, but no one had thought it through.
Turned out, this side of the planet was meant for hiding, at least of some sort. The camera system wasn’t as sophisticated, and the tunnels were not as plentiful on the blueprints they had. The Terram had feared the Commonwealth enough to create a protective coat over the world, then they’d built half of it to allow them to hide.
At least, that was what Petra thought. She hadn’t said a word about it since they’d been on this train, but it made sense in her mind. She imagined Hector thought the same, though she didn’t dare say anything to him right now.
He was radiating danger, and the closer they moved to Kane, the hotter it baked off him.
Finally, the train stopped.
The doors remained closed, and Hector turned toward them. “You may all step off, but if he attacks, no one is to join in unless I fall. If you do join in, I promise I will cut you down myself. Is that understood?”
Petra rolled her suit’s helmet up and quickly scanned the room.
“We understand,” she said.
“I need everyone to say it,” Hector commanded.
“Understood.” The response came as one.
He nodded. He took his helmet from his waist and sat it on the ground, then unsheathed his sabers, though he didn’t activate them.
“Open the doors,” he told the train.
He stepped off first, Petra close behind him, then made room for the rest of the troops. She moved to the far wall, her Whip in her hand, though it was also still off.
Her eyes focused on the former Titan, the former Primus, taking him in face to face for the first time.
He was smaller than Hector by a good margin, though he was by no means small. Compared to mere mortals, he was a giant. She could only see his head; the rest was covered by his suit. She remembered him, though his hair was longer now.
His eyes fell on Hector, and a madness like nothing she’d ever seen flooded Kane’s face. He’d been calm before they’d stepped out. Before he’d seen Hector. He’d been calm during the train ride over as if he was a regular guy heading to work.
Now, though, that was gone, and his Whip unfurled. Red lasers began twirling in front of him.
“What’s your name?” he barked across the three meters separating him from their group. He didn’t sound like a god because a god could never hold so much hate against something so far beneath him. He spoke as if they were evil, perhaps the evilest things to ever exist, and he a knight of old meant to cast it out. He spoke as if they had no right to be here.
“Hector de Gracilis. You are Alistair Kane?” Hector’s voice remained calm despite the danger that pulsed with each beat of his heart.
“Are you the man who married my wife?”
Hector looked at the ground for a second. When he looked up, he didn’t smile or gloat. He said simply, “I am.”
Something was going on in the former Primus’ head. Petra had no idea what he was thinking, and truthfully, she’d never considered the marriage as being a factor. This had been a mission and nothing more, but understanding came to her in a revelation.
This man on the other side, speaking to them as if they carried the human species’ death in their pockets, was in love.
The expression on his face wasn’t madness, it was…
Love, she thought. He loves that woman all the way back on Earth.
Kane’s Whip picked up its pace. Petra knew what that meant. It was reading him, his rage infecting it.
Hector’s sabers extended to both sides.
Alistair was gone. He had not just been put back inside the mind that shared the dual personality but thrown, cast away like a stone.
He was so far back, his screams couldn’t be heard.
Prometheus had stepped forward the moment he saw the giant, the one who’d taken his wife as a bride. He’d unfurled the Whip without even thinking. He’d only wanted to know two things. The name of the man he was about to kill, and the assurance that it was the right person.
No, the voice said, the only one that could possibly break through Prometheus’ grip on the shared mind. While he was in some ways separate from Alistair Kane, he was still a part of him. It was his wife’s voice that came through. Luna Kane. No, Allie. There will be time, but you’ve learned to move past your recklessness. You learned it back with the Ice Queen. This isn’t the paradigm shift you need, and if you cut him down here, all is lost. You’ll never come back home to me, and you know it.
Prometheus gritted his teeth and shoved her back.
He couldn’t hold her, though. Where Alistair had failed, Luna did not.
There will be time. You will have your vengeance. Right now, you lead. You kill for yourself later, when it is time. Sheath it, soldier. Sheath the Whip and do as you planned.
Prometheus took a huge breath, and when he exhaled, Alistair was back in control. The hatred was still there, his pulse having finally risen to a normal human’s level.
He pressed on his Whip, and it retracted.
Another breath, staring at the man in front of him. His size hadn’t mattered. His dual blades. His kill squad behind him. He would have cut this man down, everything else be damned.
Relm is waiting for me, he thought. Aspen trusted me. A people needs me. There will be time.
“I come alone. I’m requesting to speak to your Primuses, both on this planet and in your fleet. I’ll offer no resistance.” He tossed his Whip across the floor. It slid to a stop in front of de Gracilis’ foot. “Do you wish to clip me?”
De Gracilis retracted his sabers and hooked them on his back. For the first time, Alistair saw emotion on his face. It was brief and hard to detect, but it was there all the same: disappointment.
He’d wanted this as badly as Alistair.
You’ll have it soon enough, Prometheus whispered from somewhere. I promise you that, big man.
“No clip,” de Gracilis said. “If you change your mind on the way to the Primus, go ahead and ask for your Whip back. You’ll die like a warrior.”
He squatted easily and picked up the Whip, finding a place on his belt for it. The giant stepped to the side, and the rest of the kill squad formed a path to the train.
Alistair had understood this would happen. All of them were probably under orders to take him alive if possible since the Ascendant would rather make a spectacle of his death than have him fall in these tunnels sight unseen.
Alistair moved through the human tunnel into the train and took a seat at the front.
The rest followed him in.
Chapter Twenty-Four
About ten dead lay behind Relm, deep in tunnels that seemed to have no end. The vomit on Obs had been replaced with blood, his maw looking more like a demon’s mouth than the lovable drathe’s.
Relm couldn’t have been happier about the three warriors Aspen had brought along. Those damned gloves were life-savers.
He only had one of the kills.
He looked down at the Commonwealth soldier they’d just killed, the blue substance still eating through the woman’s bones. “If we make it out of this, when I get back, one of you three is training me on those. I’m hanging up this pulse.”
He meant it.
The three women had moved like hellcats the entire time, working almost as if they were a single person.
“I’ll do it,” one of them said, “if you train me on the pulse.”
“Deal.” Relm was having a hard time telling them apart. The Monaham family all looked like the ice they’d come from—white hair, blue eyes. Practically triplets.
He threw his HUD out in front of his helmet so everyone could see it. They’d been traveling the tunnels for two hours and had no idea where Pro was. The HUD’s mapping system was the only thing showing them where they were going, and according to what it now displayed, they were half a kilometer from the place they needed to be.
Obs was staying near Aspen except when he needed to kill. After that, it was right back to the family leader’s heels. He was doing a good job. He only knew his single piece, keep Aspen alive, but he was doing it superbly.
“Aspen, to the front,” Relm commanded.
De Monaham slid by his warrior.
“Ya done good, kid.” Relm felt a little odd calling the leader of an entire world “kid,” but that was what he was. He’d still be in the Academy on Earth. “Your time is almost here, and I need you to be ready. Pro didn’t bring you down here to kill folks, though your kin here are doing a damned fine job.”
He swallowed. There was blood on his cheek. “What’s my role?”
“When the fire starts, the four of us here are going to get back to killing and a lot of it. You’re going to have tens of thousands of Terram who need to be led. Regardless of what kinda people they are in normal times, they’ve lost their planet and loved ones. They probably think they’ve lost everything. They are not going to be capable of leading themselves, at least not at first.” Relm reached to his belt and pulled off a small comm. “Put this in your ear.”
Aspen had turned an even paler shade, but he did as was asked.
“Jeeves is there. Say ‘Hello, Jeeves.’”
“Hello, Jeeves,” he whispered.
His eyes widened as the AI came through.
“Now, that thing has a camera on it. It’s going to show you the layout. Ole Prometheus has already mapped out the way to a weapons cache that hopefully hasn’t been raided yet. You get these thousands there, then you do what’s in your blood. You send ‘em to kill because we’re going to need the fire support.”
Aspen shook his head. “This makes no sense. Anyone could do this. Any of us. Why in hades would he put me down here?”
The kid was on the verge of collapse.
Relm’s hand armor went back, and he slapped him across the face.
“Because fucking Prometheus, bringer of godsdamn fire, said it’s your place. That’s fucking why. Because your godsdamn liege said it’s time to put the mantle of your people on your back and do something.”
A red mark bloomed on Aspen’s cheek. The three women stepped forward to defend their leader. Obs gave a growl.
Level head, broth, Relm told himself. Keep it steady.
“Everybody calm their pants.” He looked at the women, then back at Aspen. “I’m not Prometheus, but you think I’m the best fighter he has? Not by a long shot. Yet, he chose me down here. You think he’s less protected with his drathe sitting here next to you? No, but that’s what he chose. Because he’s the best of us, and whether or not any of us sees what he does, he does. You were asked here for this specific reason, and I gave you a choice to stay because I knew you weren’t a coward. Do I see what he does in ya? Hades, no, but that’s not my place to see. My part was to get us here, then to get to killin’ on the other side of the door we’re coming to. Half of my part is done. It’s your time now. You got your sister’s blood in ya, kid, and I know it ain’t yellow. Are you ready to be a warrior?”
He didn’t think it was as good a speech as Pro could give, but he’d kept his head, which was what mattered.
The color didn’t reappear in Aspen’s face, but he nodded. He gritted his teeth, then said, “Let’s go.”
Relm shook his head and looked down at Obs, his HUD back in his helmet. “You do exactly what Pro told ya.” He turned to the three. “I need you banshees to not kill me for slappin’ your boss, okay, brothesses? We’re all on the same team, and that is Team Get Out of Here A-Fucking-Live, right?”
The near-triplets nodded, stepping back a bit.
Relm sighed. He wasn’t built for this shit. He liked his jokes and killing the enemy. This leading stuff was for masochists. “All right. Let’s go save the planet.”
They fled through the tunnel, finding no one else. They used a few secret passages that appeared to have been vacated a long time ago, but the HUD’s blueprint was right, and so was Prometheus. As they moved through the tunnels, he thought he had been more right about the Terram than he’d imagined during his little speech. They hadn’t left the jail through these places because they were terrified. They’d watched everything they owned be pillaged and their loved ones die in their arms.
Their only hope was Prometheus, and with so many dead, they wouldn’t risk any more.
Relm’s helmet cast light down the last tunnel.
“Holy fucking hades,” he whispered. A single Terram waited at the end. Short, stout, muscular—a lone man sitting beneath the cavern that waited above.
“Ave, Prometheus,” Relm called down the tunnel. He turned the audio on his helmet to five and heard the Terram gasp.
He spoke in Relm’s language, guttural and rough, but he said, “Ave, Prometheus.”
“Thank the gods,” Relm whispered and started trotting toward the man. His pulse was at the ready in case this turned into a trick.
“Are you him? Are you Prometheus?” the Terram asked as they arrived.
“No, broth, and I wouldn’t wish that burden on anyone, but he sent us. You understand what I’m saying?”
The Terram nodded, and Relm could see him better. His right shoulder was bandaged and his left forearm as well, but he looked functional.
“What are you doing down here?” Relm asked. “You deserting?”
Disgust crossed the Terram’s face. “Fuck yourself. I’ve been waiting for you or Prometheus or someone.” He pointed at the circular rock door above him. “Not good up there. The Terram are scared, and there’s no leadership. I snuck down here in case anyone came. Small chance, but they say Prometheus is a god, and if anyone else knew these tunnels, he would.”
Relm switched his comm to his team. “Aspen, you’ve got a group of terrified men, women, and children up there. Some of them are going to be warriors, though. You find whatever Prometheus sees and get them to where they need to go.”
“Got it,” Aspen came back over the comm. He didn’t sound confident, but he didn’t sound scared either.
Good enough, Relm thought.
“Are you ready to save us? Is Prometheus?” the Terram asked.
“Hold your corvette, broth. We’re here to save folks, but we’re waiting for the bossman to give us the signal.” He looked at the large rock. “You know how to move it?”
The Terram pounded the rock wall to his left. Relm turned his helmet’s light to it. A panel waited there. “It can read your signature?”
The Terram nodded.
“See, broths and brothesses, things are looking up. I thought we were going to have to move the damn thing ourselves.” He looked at the Terram. “I’d ask your name, but I know I won’t be able to pronounce it, so don’t take offense. When I tell you, hit that panel.” He looked over his shoulder at the banshees. “I’m going first. You three are right after me, bam, bam, bam like, understand? Anyone short like this little man here, they’re on our side. Anyone not short, drop ‘em like they’re hot.”
On
e of the women smiled at the phrase, but they all nodded.
“Now, my Terram broth, there are more escape tunnels like this, right?”
He nodded.
“Your job, good broth, is to get to the rest of them as soon as this one clears and open them. My crew here and I will take care of everything above.”
“You sure you don’t need my help?”
Relm rolled his eyes and thought, No one wants to do their part. Everyone wants to do something else. Gods bless Pro for dealing with this bullshit.
“I’m sure,” he answered. “Get the rest of the holes open.”
The banshee who had smiled whispered, “That’s what she said.”
Relm whipped around, his face shocked behind his helmet. “Well done.”
The Terram didn’t get the joke and skipped right over it. “What’s next?”
“Next? We wait for bossman to tell us it’s time.”
“How will we know?” the Terram asked.
Relm rolled his helmet down into his neckline and raised an eyebrow. “This is your first time, I take it? Trust me, when he’s ready for us, everyone on this planet is going to know.”
Alistair studied the man across the train. They sat facing each other, and Alistair finally let himself take the enemy in.
He didn’t have the red eyes of the modified, but Alistair wasn’t buying that for a second. The man was a mutant, and whoever had worked on him was the greatest to ever do it. Hector de Gracilis was a marvel. He was the size of Caesar, but there had been no crossbreeding. He was a modified human who dwarfed anything ever done before.
Yet, Alistair felt no fear of the man. Dual-wielding, holding a MechPulse, it didn’t matter—the man across the train was dead.
Alistair saw four Martians on the train, wearing the de Gracilis armor. After giving himself some time to think, he’d recognized the de Gracilis name. Only his anger had kept him from seeing clearly in the beginning. The man’s grandfather ran Mars and was a propraetor. He’d been the greatest Titan ever to live until Alistair came along. He’d heard the rumors that if Caius had been in his prime, he could have bested Alistair.
