by David Beers
More days upon days, and Tidus’s madness grew, as much as he tried to tame it. He could see the others in here with him, all frozen in different positions, some with their eyes open, some closed.
Are they losing their minds too? he thought with a weird laughter echoing in his head.
Because that was funny. A tub full of people going crazy.
He lost count of the days, but two very strange things happened. First, he saw a gray static—the Prophet’s gray, actually. It rushed through the pit, changing the black and golden liquid to gray. Tidus thought he was imagining it; that was the only logical conclusion. Just another snap in his breaking mind.
He giggled inside himself.
The gray light eventually left and Tidus thought no more about it.
He wasn’t sure about time anymore, but he didn’t think a day passed before the next strange thing occurred.
His blood started itching. Again, he thought he was imagining it … but this was different than the gray light. He could deny that occurred, the itch beneath his skin, though—it wasn’t going anywhere. If anything, its intensity was growing.
Tidus tried to look around at the others in the pit, but he could tell nothing of their mental state.
He saw his own arms, though, and Tidus knew he’d gone completely mad then. Gray strands were wrapping up his arms, with tails floating lazily in the golden black liquid like tentacles.
Another giggle from Tidus.
Rise.
His mind hadn’t said the word, but it was there all the same, as if someone was speaking inside his head.
I can’t, he said.
Rise, it told him again.
He watched the gray strands stretch upward, and after a second, their slack ended and they were pulling Tidus up through the liquid.
He couldn’t have remained inside the pit if he wanted.
The strands continued, reaching the top and then thrusting Tidus through it as well. Golden black liquid dripped down his face as the static strands pulled him to the edge of the pit. He grabbed hold of the barrier that held the liquid inside and vomited. Unable to catch his breath, he did it again. Black mucus streamed from his nose as his body ejected the liquid from his lungs.
He wiped at his eyes, his arms able to move though the rest of his body was still held firm beneath the surface. No matter how much he tried cleaning himself, Tidus still felt the slick liquid covering him.
He finally stopped, though, and looked at his arms. The strands had climbed up his shoulders, shining in the night’s darkness around him. He stared down into the pit and saw similar static draped across others’ arms. They lit up the golden liquid like gray lights, each arm a beacon.
The Globe of One, the voice said. Go to it. The Ministers are there. They are not to leave.
Tidus looked up into the black sky, his blood almost burning and the Prophet’s words echoing in his head. He laughed and laughed and laughed.
Sixty-Three
Yule stood and walked to the windows lining Trinant’s office.
“They’re confined below, in the lower levels?” he asked.
“Yes,” the general said. The aide had left 10 minutes ago and this woman had returned in her stead. Older, thin, and sounding like any general the Pope had ever met. General Spyden.
“How secure is it?” the First Priest asked. “How secure are we?”
Yule heard the panic in the man’s voice but didn’t turn around to assess him. The True Faith’s new Minister had been through a lot over the past couple of days, Yule had no doubt of that, but he sounded more frayed than anyone else. Everyone was frightened, including the Pope, but the First sounded near panic.
Trinant ignored him, and so did the general.
“Show me what they’ve done so far,” she said.
“Yes, Your Grace.” The windows in front of Yule suddenly changed from a view of the outside world to a vast display. Yule stepped back, taking in the scene.
“The panels are divided up into four quadrants, though what you’ll see on them is very similar in nature. If it’s okay, Your Grace, I’ll speed up the videos.”
“Yes,” Yule heard Trinant say, though he didn’t take his eyes from the scene in front of him.
He focused on the middle-left glass pane, watching as the general spoke. She was giving this report to Trinant, though a single question flashed through Yule’s head: why aren’t we evacuating?
“They reached our bottom docking stations approximately an hour ago. We are still unsure how the transports were commandeered, but they kept some of the crew alive in order to pass security checks. Once docked, they rapidly moved upward, making it through three levels before any sort of alarm was sounded.”
“WHY DIDN’T WE HEAR AN ALARM?” the First Priest shouted.
“The Globe of One is 600 stories high. You are on number 590.. It wasn’t necessary to sound alarms this high up.”
Yule turned and looked at the First Priest. The man collapsed into a chair and let out a sigh—the distance between them and the attackers apparently all he cared about.
The Pope watched the window again, feeling none of the First Priest’s new found peace.
Because what he now saw …
“This has never happened before,” he said.
Men and women were walking up and down halls, gray static draping their arms.
The screens in front of him were showing everything in double time, but the men and women were slinging the static at the One Path’s faithful. Wherever the strands touched, clothing and flesh burnt off. Yule watched as people screamed, their horror thankfully silent in Trinant’s office. People were collapsing everywhere across the massive displays, holding their blood drenched faces and throats.
That wasn’t the worst of it, though. Somehow, the death he watched was only part of it.
“They’re insane,” he heard Benten say as if the man was inside his own head. “Look at their faces. They’re all insane.”
The invaders moved rapidly across the glass panels, using strands, hands, and even blades to kill those in front of them.
“What is this?” the First Priest asked, finally coming to see what Yule did. “What in Corinth’s name is all of this?”
Yule turned around and looked at General Spyden.
“We haven’t seen anything like that before. I understand they’re a long way from us, but why haven’t we evacuated yet? Why are we still here?”
The general swallowed, the first sign of doubt she’d shown. She turned to Trinant before speaking. “Your Grace, we can’t leave.”
Sixty-Four
David stared up into the sky and watched the transport. It was approaching the beach quickly. He hadn’t communicated with Rhett since saving him inside the True Faith. David was stretching himself thin now, especially with what was happening at the Globe. He couldn’t spare any more of himself to Rhett, not right now.
Right before he returned—when deep in the ocean—David had made a choice, and now he was dealing with the consequence. He had expected this, though it was different to live with something rather than anticipating it.
He also had to determine how much to tell Rhett and Christine.
Think about it later, he told himself. Now you deal with Rebecca.
The transport had arrived and was above David. He moved backward as it slowly descended. Its turbines pushed air at him, blowing sand across the beach. He shielded his eyes with his hands, though he could have used the gray if he’d wanted—but such frivolous usage couldn’t happen right now. Maybe not ever again.
The transport finally landed and the blowing wind and sand ended.
David looked inside. He saw four people. He could see Rhett’s face, and two others in the front. He thought he recognized the woman …
She was at the compound when they attacked. You spared her. Only her.
He looked away, toward the rear. Rebecca. He only saw the back of her head; she hadn’t turned around to look at him.
&nbs
p; The door on Rhett’s side opened and he stepped out. He walked around the front and then simply stopped and stared. Another door opened and a man David didn’t recognize stepped out. He went to Rhett, then stopped too. David sensed his Blood in the man, but he didn’t gaze at him. He only looked at Rhett.
There were tears in his old friend’s eyes.
“It’s real?” Rhett said. “You’re real?”
David nodded. “Yes.”
Rhett walked across the sand and without another word, wrapped David in his arms.
David slowly embraced his friend, though not feeling comfortable as he did it. It wasn’t natural to him, to touch, to show affection like this. He and Rhett had never hugged like this before, but yet Rhett wasn’t letting go.
“I thought you were dead,” he said, his voice full of pain.
“I’m not.” David pulled back some, placing his hands on Rhett’s shoulders. “Where’s Christine?”
“She’s lying down in the back. She’s been going in and out of consciousness, but she’s improving.” Rhett dropped his eyes to the sand. “They really hurt her.”
David nodded, looking to the man behind Rhett. “He’s one of ours?”
“Yes. It’s … The whole damned thing is complicated,” he said, laughing and reaching up to wipe away his tears. “The woman. I don’t even know where to start.”
David let him go and stepped to the side. He looked at the woman sitting in the front. “You can get out.”
Her skin was whiter than bone. The transport door opened and he watched her step outside, her hands jittering. She didn’t look at him but quickly stepped next to the other stranger. David didn’t understand why she would go to him, not if the stranger carried the Blood, but he wasn’t concerned.
“Rebecca,” David called across the short space. “Don’t you want to see your brother?”
A second passed, and then she stood inside the ship. She turned around and faced the door as it opened.
There was nothing separating them now, and David looked at her, knowing she had betrayed him. She was the one who killed Stellan. She was the one who nearly ended the Unformed’s Union.
David’s eyes lit, and gray webs sparked from them. They raced across the sandy beach like horizontal lightening, wrapping around her with a hungriness that resembled animals. She barely had time to open her mouth, let alone make noise.
David stared on with blazing eyes as the web wrapped her thick in its gray cocoon. Rebecca could no longer be seen from within the shell he’d created. David nodded and the static coffin fell over. His eyes went silent and he turned back to Rhett.
“I’ll deal with her tonight. We should talk first.”
Rhett nodded. David walked across the sand, noticing the woman look away as he did—not even wanting to make eye contact with him. Yes, she’d been there. She’d witnessed him destroy an entire army. Now she could witness him do two things, care for those he loved, and kill his sister.
David passed by Rebecca lying unseen beneath his static gray. He went to the back of the transport, bent down, and picked up Christine.
It’s him, Rhett thought. It really is.
He had to tell himself that over and over, because his mind refused to believe it. It’d only been a few weeks, but Rhett had believed it so fully that now it seemed … well, like it couldn’t be true. David couldn’t be alive.
Yet all Rhett had to do was look up, and he’d be there, the Prophet.
Rebecca was back on the beach, the gray static sure to protect her from any poaching animals, though Rhett couldn’t care less if they clawed her eyes out.
David had taken them a few hundred yards from the shore. He’d managed to clear out brush and bramble—clearly with his static, as the ground and surrounding shrubbery looked burnt; he’d created a little fire pit and a place for them to sit, and sleep if need be.
He lay Christine down first, then knelt beside her. Rhett watched as his Prophet touched her temple and then closed his own eyes. Rhett saw them light up beneath his eyelids.
David opened his eyes.
She was staring back at David.
Neither of them said anything as they stared at each other. After a moment, Christine shook her head weakly, tears coating her eyes.
“No,” she said. “No…”
David only smiled.
“Am I dead?” she asked, but there was no smile on her face. She was serious, unable to believe.
“You’re not dead,” Rhett said. “He’s real. It’s all real.”
Christine, in a gesture he’d never seen from her before, reached up and took hold of David’s neck. She pulled him down and hugged him as tightly as she could. Rhett had felt the awkwardness when he had done the same, and now he witnessed it from a few feet off. David simply didn’t like physical touch, and Rhett smiled as he was forced to endure it for the second time in a day.
Finally, Christine let go and David sat back up, doing his best to not show how uncomfortable the act had made him.
“I want you to sleep some more,” he told her.
“No.” She shook her head.
David nodded, reaching down with his fingers again and touching her temple. “I’ll be here when you wake up.” His eyes sparked for only a moment, and Christine’s closed, her breathing relaxing immediately.
Rhett understood that if anyone else had even attempted something similar on Christine, when she awoke, whoever had done it might not live to see another morning. None of that mattered with David, though. He was back, and things would change now. They would win.
He looked over to Rhett.
“What do we do?” Rhett asked.
“Not yet. When she wakes, we’ll talk.”
“You’re kidding me? I have no idea what’s happening and now I have to wait longer?”
“We need to deal with them,” David said, glancing up and to the beach where the two strangers stood. “What’s their story?”
“The man’s name is Reinheld. Manor Reinheld. He’s one of ours. From the best I can gather, he became romantic with the woman.” Rhett stopped and looked away from the two, back at David. “How much do you know about what Rebecca did?”
“Only that she’s the traitor.”
Rhett nodded and looked down at the dead fire pit, black ashes from wood burned the night before.
“That man over there,” Rhett said, not looking up. “He told Christine about those ships. The ones nobody saw. The ones that shot you. Christine told Rebecca about them, and ….”
Rhett said nothing else. There wasn’t anything he could say, because those few sentences covered everything.
“The woman, then? What role does she play besides sleeping with Reinheld?” David spoke as if he hadn’t just heard how his sister attempted his execution.
“I don’t really know. She’s the reason we escaped, though. She came to Rebecca and me, told us what we were going to do, and then planned the whole thing. We would have died if not for you, but she would have died right beside us … She hasn’t said much since finding out we were coming to you.”
“Has she communicated with the True Faith? Do you know?”
Rhett shook his head. “I didn’t see her nanotech light up, but I can’t say for sure. I mean, though, she did just plan and execute the escape of highly valuable prisoners. I don’t think the True Faith is going to have much to do with her anymore.”
“Alright,” David said and stood up. He walked around the fire, Rhett standing up to follow. They walked down to the beach.
“You know who I am,” David said.
It wasn’t a question, but both newcomers nodded.
“You’ve taken the Blood, and there’s no untaking it, you understand?” he asked the man.
Reinheld nodded.
“I’m David Hollowborne,” he said, extending his hand in a custom that had somehow survived millennia.
Reinheld stepped forward and shook it. “I’m … I’m more than honored.”
“You’re
one of us,” David said, and Rhett saw the magnetism working. Not the gray from his eyes, but the light from his life. He might not like hugging, but the man always made people feel like they were the only ones alive, the only person that mattered in the entire world.
Rhett didn’t think Reinheld realized what he was doing as he walked over to David’s side, releasing his hand and then looking back to Brinson.
David turned his focus on her.
“You can either take the Blood or deal with the coming storm. The decision is yours.”
The woman stepped back, looking like it was involuntary. She shook her head.
David’s eyes grayed over, static filling them. “Okay.” Webs shot out across the empty space—
“NO!”
The static webs stopped, pausing in midair.
“Don’t, please,” Reinheld said. “Don’t hurt her.”
David turned his head, the static lines still halted in their spill from his eyes. He said nothing, only stared at the man, and Manor Reinheld finally understood what Rhett had for years.
David was hard. He was cruel. There was love in him, but there was a ruthless anger that drove him. David was the Prophet, and death was as much a part of him as life.
“She’ll take the Blood. Give her time. She will.” Reinheld’s tongue was nearly stumbling over his words, and still David stared without flinching. “She saved us. She gave up Corinth, her life in the True Faith, everything because she’s got potential. She’s got potential to believe in the truth. She’ll take the Blood. I … I give you my word.”
Rhett had never seen anything like this in his life, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it. A man so in love with an infidel that he promised the Prophet he’d convert her. Rhett felt more interest in David’s reaction than any actual result.
The moment felt like it might not end, David staring with gray, expressionless eyes as if seeing some new kind of insect. Something strange and not of this world.
“And if she doesn’t?” David finally asked. “Will you take her place?”
