The Glass Mountains: The Saboteur Chronicles Book 2

by J. V. Roberts

  Pinkerton smiled. “So would I.”

  Caldwell stood, sensing the rising tension in the room. “Alright, what do you boys say we get over to the Hall?”

  “Fine by me.” Dan gave Pinkerton one last look before exiting the room.

  ***

  The Great Hall earned its name and then some. It took up the entire eighth-floor of Tower One. It was supported, on either side, by fat, square pillars. Looming above the open space was an emerald, domed ceiling, inlaid with gold etchings of faceless soldiers carrying crudely drawn rifles into some invisible battle. The room was backed up by three triangle shaped floor to ceiling windows that, by day, acted as brilliant paintings of golden light, so overwhelming in their intensity that it was impossible to look upon them directly. By night those same windows transformed the Great Hall into a land of shadows that danced and contorted as the moon traveled the sky. The Great Hall had been constructed long before Dan was born. It was a beautifully done patchwork job, pieced together from segments of an old railway station. It wasn’t the finished product that amazed him as much as it was the idea that men had broken it all down, drug it across the Outland, and rebuilt it from memory.

  He used to sneak from his room when he was a child, long after the Towers were asleep. The guard patterns were easy to track, easy to memorize. He would slip into the Hall and after he was sure that he was alone, he’d break into a sprint, arms spread like wings, circling the room, weaving around the pillars, absorbing the darkness, the shadows washing up and over him. He didn’t mind the shadows, didn’t mind the company of his own footsteps, he was born a soldier; darkness and solitude were a soldier’s best friends. Afterward, he’d sneak back into bed, breathless and sweaty, and he’d sleep like a rock. Many years had come and gone since Dan had utilized the Great Hall as his own private playground. But as he looked out over the sea of faces, he could still see the ghost of the boy he used to be, he could still recall the cool marble slapping beneath his feet and the pallid moonlight on his face.

  The residents of Genesis packed the Hall from front to back. All non-essential personnel was required to attend the address. Families stood, gathered in small circles, the children more than happy to miss a half day of classes. Workers from mechanical hovered around the pillars in grease-stained coveralls. Pepper’s new superstar bartender, Gerrad, stood at the center of the crowd, still wearing his apron, chatting with a few of his admirers. Up front, standing a few feet from the podium, were the families of the fallen: children without fathers, parents without sons, wives without husbands. They were slack-jawed and sleep deprived. Most of them had finished shedding their tears. All that remained now was the emptiness. A space that would never be filled. Perkins’ wife looked brittle and broken. Dan was sure she’d have welcomed the opportunity to lie down and die, but the young ones biting at her ankles wouldn’t let her, they needed her to take that next step, to remain rooted just a bit longer. Dan felt the weight of it all. The actions he’d taken to sabotage the Lord Marshal’s push for peace had cost lives; more than he’d ever anticipated. But it would preserve the Union, for their children and their grandchildren. They would emerge from the darkness more powerful than ever. He would not let good men die in vain.

  When Hause took the stage, Dan trailing at his heels, they were greeted by murmurings of confusion. With their men dead and an Outlander locked in the dungeon, the people wanted answers. Hause waved and smiled as he approached the podium, but he received neither gesture in return. Dan knew the words that would follow, even before they were spoken. He’d address the grieving families and express his deepest sympathies. He’d portray Dominic as the mastermind behind the attacks against the Union and remind the people that he was to be executed in the coming days; he would invite all of them out to the event. There’d be some talk about moving forward. He’d vaguely mention the second leg of the push for peace, but there’d be no mention of the true cost.

  They don’t want to know the gory details…but they need to.

  While Hause moved through his speech, hitting the predicted notes, Dan stood near the three soldiers lining the back of the stage, watching the crowd attempt to follow Hause’s words. Empty words. Aimless. Discarded leaves trapped on a current of wind. Spirits had begun to lift considerably. The blinds were pulled and the pillows were fluffed, the people had officially cocooned themselves inside a comfortable delusion. But it was weak. Flimsy. Straw houses doused in gasoline. All Dan had to do was light a match.

  “I think Defense Minister Adams has a few words that he’d like to say as well.” Hause stepped back from the podium.

  Dan nodded and took Hause’s place, greeting the crowd. “It’s good to see everyone here today. I know that a lot has been said, so I won’t take up too much more of your time.” The crowd had mentally dismissed after Hause’s speech, most were now checking the designs on the ceiling, or studying the backs of their hands. “I’d like to start out by offering up my sympathies to those that have recently lost someone. I hope you know we are all with you and that if you ever need anything, all you have to do is ask.” His eyes lingered on Amanda and the kids. “We’ve all been there, haven’t we? It wasn’t that long ago that we were at war. I’m willing to venture that, during the fighting, most of us lost someone that we held dear. I know that, for me, the wounds are still fresh.” He was regaining some of their lost interest. Nods had begun to fall in agreement with his words. He was squeezing pressure points. “I can only echo what the Lord Marshal said. What this land needs is peace. We can accomplish that by spreading our way of life and building Genesis Towers across the Outland. I also agree with his sentiment, and I believe you do as well, that such a scenario is not only ideal but achievable. The looming question is how do we get there?” He was standing at a precipice, one foot dangling over the edge, the words that fell from his lips next would either send him tumbling into the abyss or pull him back to safety. “And this, I’m afraid, is a point on which the Lord Marshal and I part ways. How many men have we lost this month? A dozen? Two dozen? I’ve lost track. And what did they die for? There’s still no peace. So, what’s the next step? Do we throw more men and more coin at the Outlanders, hoping that they’ll break words rather than shoot us?”

  “More coin? What are you talking about? We’re giving these assholes more coin?” He was a greasy faced mechanic that looked as if he’d never missed a meal. The crowd around him shifted as he stepped forward, lugging an enormous wrench across one shoulder.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Hause’s voice was like a distant thunder, a storm rolling in at his back; Dan couldn’t see it, but he could feel the electricity in the air. The impending downpour gave him pause, but he’d already taken the step, he’d committed, whatever waited for him at the bottom, he’d see it with a smile.

  “Our men were looking for a chest of stolen coin when they were killed; it was supposed to be a gesture of our good faith towards the Outlanders, but rather than negotiate peace, they killed the escorts and took it.”

  “That’s what my husband was killed over? Coin? And now you want to give these animals more?” Perkins’ wife wasn’t out of tears after all. Her kids clung to both legs, howling and red-faced, struck by the sudden revelation that Daddy wasn’t out saving the world.

  Hause shoved Dan aside, displaying a quivering smile, fanning the turbulent crowd with both hands. “The Defense Minister speaks out of turn—”

  “When were you gonna tell us?”

  “In due time.”

  “After more of our boys were sent back to the mud? After more of our wealth was thrown away? What else are you hiding, Lord Marshal?”

  Brett marched to the edge of the stage; he wasn’t exactly pointing his rifle, but it wasn’t at rest either. “This is your Lord Marshal, you will show him respect!” The crowd was inconsolable, fighting to make their voices heard above the swell. “I’m not going to ask you people again!” Now Brett was pointing his weapon.

  “Bad mov
e,” Dan spoke from the corner of his mouth.

  The man with the wrench swaggered towards the stage. “There aren’t enough bullets in Genesis to kill the half of us. Go ahead, boy. Pull that trigger. See what happens.”

  “Stand down!” Hause grabbed Brett’s gun by the barrel and pushed it towards the ceiling before he could seal their fates. “Listen, citizens of Genesis, let’s see reason and talk—”

  “We don’t want to hear from you. We want to hear from him.” He waved the head of the wrench at Dan, a king knighting his chosen.

  Hause wasn’t afraid of the fat man with the wrench. It was the expanse of rage filled eyes bobbing up and down in agreement with the fat man’s words that stilled him. “Very well. Defense Minister Adams…the stage is yours.”

  Dan heard the promise of retribution in Hause’s tone. He saw the daggers forming behind his eyes, the ones that would no doubt be used to cut flesh from bone later. But right then, standing on the stage with the people of Genesis at his back, he was safe. “I’d like to echo the Lord Marshal’s sentiments and ask that everyone take a moment to catch their breath. When the Lord Marshal sent men and coin to try to negotiate peace, he did it because he thought that’s what was best for Genesis. While I didn’t condone that course of action, I understood it. The war is fresh, for all of us. Ensnaring Genesis in another campaign is not a decision to be made lightly.”

  “Our boys are still being killed! And now we’re giving our coin away on top of it! How’s this any better?”

  “The time for talk is over! Let’s crush the bastards!”

  Dan nodded. “I hear you and I share your feelings.”

  Hause stepped forward again, cautiously, as if the floorboards might drop from beneath his feet. “We have a man due to be executed in mere days for these horrific crimes against the Union.”

  “A man you trusted! You let him into our home! He ate our food and drank our whiskey!”

  “And you’re gonna turn around and give his kind more of our coin and more of our men to slaughter!”

  “They should all be executed!”

  Dan could barely contain the glow filling his chest. He was soaring, hands behind his head, basking in the scenery as it passed him by.

  “Fine! I hear you!” Hause’s voice went off like a cannon and the room fell silent. “You want a war?”

  “Hell yeah!”

  “Kill those sonsofbitches!”

  “You’ve got your war!” Hause raised his fists triumphantly.

  “No! Wait! Settle down, people!” Dan had his hands on either side of his mouth, amplifying his voice. “These are the empty promises of a man that wants to stay in power, nothing more.” The enthusiasm in the crowd seemed to die a bit as they chewed and digested his words. “We’ve tried it his way. Our men died because of it. How many more do we have to lose before we say, together, that enough is enough?”

  “And my way worked for many years. Did it not?” Hause extended his arms out over the crowd. “It brought us great victory and, with that, great prosperity. I’ve never given up on Genesis. Everything I’ve done has been in the interest of our great society. Am I perfect? Absolutely not. But if we’re going to go to war, don’t you want me leading the charge? Haven’t I proven myself to all of you on the battlefield?”

  No no no no no! I’m losing them!

  Hause smiled, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. “You trusted me during the Great War! You trusted me to take your boys through the Battle of the Canyons! When the Rebel hoards were bearing down on us, on our way of life, you trusted me to lead! I did not fail you then and I will not fail you now! I’ve heard your voices and I’ve taken your words to heart! From here on out, there will be no mercy! There will be no compromise! We will crush the Rebels! We will get the justice our fallen heroes deserve! And Genesis will, once and for all, rule the Outland!”

  The cheers were deafening. Dan was freefalling. The ground below was approaching at a rapid pace, all sharp teeth and packed earth. This wasn’t the plan. Hause was afraid of another war, afraid of the impact that the potential losses could have on public opinion, afraid that he didn’t have enough fight left in his bones. Hause was content to grow fat and comfortable. Dan had been banking on those assumptions, assumptions that had been carefully constructed from a lifetime of knowledge about the man.

  Never underestimate the flexibility of a politician.

  “Hold on one second! Everyone, please, can I get your attention?” Dan’s words were dying against the force-field of bloodlust.

  “I admire your ambition, but you’ve lost, old friend. You’re done as my Defense Minister. You’re done in Genesis. Feel free to start packing your things.” Hause was still grinning for the crowd, his fists raised high in the air.

  The fruit had fallen from the vine before it’d had time to flourish. Dan was scrambling around on the ground, frantically trying to reattach it. Lerah’s life depended on it. “If you’ll just give me one…people…please?” They were chanting Hause’s name, hugging and dancing in circles, singing about a march to victory that hadn’t even begun. What the hell had he been thinking? Trying to turn Genesis against the longest sitting Lord Marshal in history was a suicide mission. Did he really think he could beat Hause that easily? The man hadn’t been elevated by the wings of fate alone. He’d clawed and spilled blood to get to where he was. It’d been a stupid plan, strategically weak. Under normal circumstances, Dan would have never gone in so recklessly. But he’d seen an opening, a chance to save Lerah. It was over. He’d be exiled, Dominic would be executed, and Lerah would be left to whatever cruel fate the Rebels had chosen for her.

  At the back of the crowd, like a mirage in a hostile desert, he saw the faces of Caldwell and Reyes. They were bumping through the press of bodies, making their way towards the exit. Dan thought it wise to do the same.

  A hand fell hard across Dan’s left shoulder, buckling him. “You have until tonight to be out, old friend.” Hause squeezed and let go.

  Dan took the stairs off the back of the stage. He jumped the final three and made a dash for the exit. He charged into the hall and landed in the arms of Caldwell and Reyes. “No, you have to let me through.” Their hands lingered near the pistols attached to their hips. Shit! They must have been swayed by the speech! “Please, I’ll disappear into the Outland! I’ll never come back! The Lord Marshal will never know you saw me!”

  “To hell with the Lord Marshal,” Reyes said.

  “What?”

  “We’re with you,” Caldwell said.

  Dan shook his head, trying to find the meaning in their words.

  “We won’t fight another war under his command,” Caldwell continued. “We don’t want another tepid campaign or some bullshit truce. We want to annihilate those fuckers. We respect the Lord Marshal, but he’s not the man for the job, you are.”

  Reyes nodded. There were dark circles under his eyes.

  “And your men?”

  “Will do as instructed. They’re all waiting for you as we speak.” Reyes was a short man and soft around the middle. His goatee was scraggly, his bald head lumpy and misshapen, and his limbs didn’t quite fit his body; visually speaking, he was the antithesis of intimidation. But he was as fierce as they came. If anyone could take a group of fighting men and convince them to march into the bowels of hell, it was him.

  Dan could still hear the cheers rising in response to Hause’s baritone vocals, weaving lie upon lie, trading any principles he had left for his one true aspiration: power. “What about Pinkerton?”

  “What about him?” Pinkerton had been waiting around the corner, near the stairwell, listening to their conversation.

  “We’re taking Genesis. We could use the extra guns.” Dan pushed confidently to the front of their small troop.

  There was a hint of pity as Pinkerton looked them over. “Taking Genesis?” He dabbed at his chalky eyeball. It appeared as if half of him was weeping over their impending doom. “Sounds to me like y’all are outnum
bered.” Pinkerton looked towards the Great Hall. At any moment the verbose doublespeak would come to an end and the horde would converge and devour them. “Put this notion of rebellion to bed. Spare the Towers more bloodshed, namely yours.”

  “Pinkerton, if you’re not with us, get out of our way.” Dan eyed the single door to the stairwell, their only means of escape. He eyed Pinkerton’s right hand, resting just above the gun on his hip. “You won’t make it, so don’t even try.”

  Pinkerton held his hands up in surrender and stepped aside. “Make sure your last meal is a hearty one.”

  “Don’t get involved. This is your only warning. After everything we’ve been through, I’d hate to be the one to have to put you down.”

  “Likewise, old friend.”

  As Dan led the charge down the stairs, he felt the calm of battle wash over him. Some men got the jitters. Some threw up. Some took up card games and chain smoking. Dan got calm and quiet. He let the tension leave his body and slowly settled into the emptiness that it left behind. He knew that a war had started and soon the first shots would be fired.

  5

  Pinkerton had let his cardio go. His wife had always encouraged him to stay in shape and eat right. During the war he’d been as svelte as the men half his age; sun-soaked marches and potato rations had a habit of doing that to a man. But with peace time in full swing, and with his better half on the other side of eternity, he’d become an old, broken-down, half-blind soldier. The toughest battles he fought these days were against his bladder. Lately, he’d been getting up three times a night just to take a piss. He was huffing and puffing to keep up with Hause as they spiraled up the Tower One staircase towards his office. Hause was taking the stairs two at a time, moving as if he were floating on clouds, climbing up them faster than most men came down.

  “Who’s with him?”

  “Caldwell and Reyes…sir.” His chest was starting to burn.