by J. L. Lyon
Hundreds of soldiers lined the colonnade, standing at attention in the pristine white of the Imperial Guard and looking like little more than exterior decoration for the basilica. As Liz stepped out of the Halo she saw that the guardsman paid her the same respect they might have one of the advisors...or even Sullivan himself. Chief of Command, Infallible’s captain had called her. Leader of all the armed forces of the Imperial Conglomerate. Not a title earned by her skill, to be sure, but by the symbolism of the weapon on her hip. Had another from Specter made it to Rome, he likely would have gotten the position over her.
Still, it was an honor—an honor she was tempted to decline. This war Sullivan had started would undoubtedly rage on for years, and she had no desire to be caught up in such a struggle. But whether or not she had a choice in the matter remained to be seen.
Liz reached the great stone stair that led up to the basilica and began to ascend, seeing a different group of men assembled at the top. As she drew nearer she saw that Sullivan himself had turned out to greet her, flanked by Holt, Drake, and Colonel Orion several paces behind. Sullivan smiled as she reached them and held out his hands in welcome, “Greetings, Chief Aurora. Thank you for flying here ahead of the fleet. We have important matters to discuss that cannot wait.”
“I understand, sir,” Liz nodded. “I am sorry that the convoy’s attempted siege of Alexandria was foiled. If there is any way I can make amends—”
“Put it out of your mind,” Sullivan smiled. “The attack was never meant to be successful. We only wanted to make a move that would strike fear into Napoleon Alexander and show the world we mean what we say. Even had the jamming equipment remained operational, command would have issued the order to withdraw before the convoy reached the Potomac.”
“I’m afraid I fail to see the point then, sir.”
“Yes, well...think of it like a game of chess, my dear. There are many ways to play the game, but one way is to attack full on to draw out your opponent’s pieces. Then, once he is exposed you withdraw your most valuable pieces and hack away at him with your front line. In so doing, you put him on the defensive right from the start. You take control of the game.”
“I see,” she said dryly. And how many men lost their lives because of your bluff? I nearly lost mine!
Sullivan motioned to the two men on his right and left, “Chief Aurora, may I introduce Christopher Holt and Gordon Drake, of the Imperial High Council.”
Liz stepped forward and shook their hands, “Pleasure to meet you officially, Councilors.” They hadn’t given her the time of day when they thought 301 would be their champion, but she let it slide. She had to keep up appearances if she was to get what she came for.
“The pleasure is ours, Chief Aurora,” Holt replied with mock enthusiasm. She could sense the disappointment in his body’s every subtle line. They had been expecting others besides her...others, in their estimation, who exceeded her in skill.
“Come, Chief Aurora,” Sullivan beckoned toward the interior of the basilica, “Let us walk.”
Liz obliged, and she and Sullivan took the lead while Drake, Holt, and Orion remained a few steps behind. As they walked into the portico, Sullivan spoke in low tones so that no one else could hear them, “You did not complete your mission, Elizabeth. I gave you explicit instructions...”
“No disrespect, sir, but our original agreement did not include the murder of my closest friend. I have delivered on every aspect of what you asked me to do, and it’s no concern of mine that you chose to abandon your quest for 301’s allegiance in the eleventh hour. I would like what you promised me, sir, and I would like it now.”
Sullivan paused, evidently surprised by her forthrightness. So much the better—he might be more apt to give her the information if he thought her worthy of it. At length he spoke, “Very well, my dear. You did deliver on your part. And it only stands to reason that an orphan girl such as yourself would want to know where she came from. So, you may ask, and I will tell you what I can.”
“Are they alive?” Liz asked.
Sullivan nodded, “Some of them, yes. But as of this moment you cannot get to them.”
“Why? Where are they?”
The emperor stopped at the entrance to the nave and sighed, “Your family is on Domination Crisis Eleven, where they have been trapped for near two decades. I’m sorry, Elizabeth.”
Liz looked away. Domination Crisis Eleven, one of the last holdouts against rule by the World System, had gained a reputation as an impregnable fortress when a fleet of warships sent to take the islands had been lost to the sea before ever making landfall. Some believed that the people of the islands stayed the attack with powerful and advanced weaponry, while others thought some great power had risen up from the sea to swallow the fleet before they could threaten the last truly free landmass on the planet. Liz believed both were legend, but even she recognized reaching the islands as all but impossible. After the debacle of losing so many ships, Alexander ordered the construction of a Solithium-powered barrier to seal them away from the rest of the world. So far as anyone knew, no one had come or gone from Domination Crisis Eleven in near twenty years. Liz had heard the theory more than once that separation from the world had led to the utter desolation of the place. Few ever spoke of it. What did it matter if a small population of people managed to fend off the World System?
“I need a ship, then,” Liz said. Impregnable or not, she could not just give up.
Sullivan’s eyebrows arched up in surprise, “A ship? Surely you don’t intend to go there.”
“I can’t give up until I’ve tried,” Liz replied. “I’ve waited years to discover my family. What exactly did you think I was going to do after you told me?”
“The World System still holds the barrier around Domination Crisis Eleven,” Sullivan said. “There’s no way you can make it there, and to send you would be a waste of a ship and its crew. Still…perhaps we might strike a new arrangement, one more to your liking than our last. You need a way to Domination Crisis Eleven, and I need someone to lead my armies against the World System—preferably a Spectral-adept. If you provide one, in time I believe I can provide the other. Eventually we will take the barrier, and then you might be able to find a way ashore.”
“I have little taste for this war, Emperor. It will be long and bloody—my family, however many of them still live, could be dead of natural causes by the time I fulfill my end of the bargain.”
Sullivan’s lips thinned with frustration, “Going to those islands with anything short of an armada is suicide. I can’t give you something for nothing, Elizabeth. Let’s say...one year. One year of service as Chief of Command, and perhaps we will have enough clout to assault the barrier.”
“And then? Will I be forced to stay on as Chief of Command, or will you release me?”
Sullivan smiled, “If you agree to train more Spectral-adepts, I will release you from your charge. Then you will be free...or at least as free as you can be in this present time.”
Liz hesitated. She didn’t have enough skill to effectively train a new group of warriors to use the Spectral Gladius. It had been difficult enough to learn it herself, always struggling to keep up with the stellar progress of 301 and Derek Blaine. But then, maybe being trained in their shadow had simply done a number on her self-esteem. They were, according to McCall, the best with the Gladius since the glory days of Silent Thunder—whatever that meant. No, she couldn’t allow lack of confidence to get in her way.
“Agreed,” she nodded. “I’ll lead your army for a year and train others to use the Gladius, but I require one thing more.”
“Yes?”
“I had 301 primed and ready for recruitment, and instead you asked me to murder him. Why the change of heart?”
“Ah,” the emperor glanced back at the two councilors and spoke nonchalantly, “Can you give us a moment, gentlemen?”
Liz doubted that Holt and Drake could hear them even from where they originally stood, but Sullivan apparen
tly did not want to take any chances. Once the high councilors had moved to a safer distance, Sullivan turned back to her, “You have gone far and sacrificed much to find your family, Elizabeth.”
His continued use of her full name irked her. No one called her Elizabeth. “Indeed, sir, I have.”
“If you went to Domination Crisis Eleven and found that the World System, of which I was then a part, brutally murdered members of your family, would you continue to serve me?”
Liz searched the emperor’s eyes for a trick in the question. Then, satisfied he wasn’t testing her, she answered honestly, “No. I would join sides with your enemies.”
“And I have no reason to believe he would do differently.”
She shook her head and laughed lightly, “But that could never happen. 301 doesn’t even know his given name, much less who his family is. Unless they are trapped on Domination Crisis Eleven as well?”
Sullivan frowned, “No. But things are not quite what they seem with him. Tell me, Elizabeth, when did you and he first become friends?”
“We’ve always been friends. We grew up together.”
“At the Capital Orphanage, I know. But when? Do you remember how old you were?”
“I was...” Liz searched her memory for the moment she and 301 had met, but came up short. She had never really considered it before.
“Do you have any memories with him before you were say...six or seven?”
Liz paused, sure she would be able to recall something if she only focused upon it. But all her memories of him in the Capital Orphanage were from after that time. Before, there was nothing.
“You don’t remember because he wasn’t there,” Sullivan said. “He didn’t come to the orphanage until he was nearly six years old, on the night Jonathan Charity died and Lauren Charity was captured. His memories were modified—and perhaps yours as well to better keep the secret—but I have reason to believe they will return. And once they do, I don’t want to be the one in his crosshairs.”
“Why?”
“Because, my dear,” Sullivan smiled wryly, “Your friend 301-14-A is actually Elijah Charity.”
Liz’s mouth dropped open and she whispered louder than she meant to, “What?”
“Yes, I was surprised as well when I found out...but I assure you it is the truth. I consider it a personal failure that I didn’t figure it out sooner, considering how much he looks like his father.”
“You knew Jonathan Charity?”
“In another life, yes,” Sullivan replied. “Now do you understand why I asked you to kill him?”
Liz let the shock roll off her, aware that Sullivan and even the councilors nearby would take it as a sign of weakness. The truth about 301 would take time to process, but for now she chose to accept what Sullivan told her and work out the particulars later. “I can see why you thought to protect yourself from him. But I think you made a terrible error, sir.”
“Is that so?” he asked with the air of a magnanimous politician. “Enlighten me then, on what I should have done.”
Liz accepted the slight without offense. Combat might not be her forte, but when it came to intelligence and conspiracy she had no equal. “I’m sure you’ve considered the implications for Silent Thunder, if this information becomes public?”
“I have. If he joins them, it will swell their ranks and Division One will be overrun. His death would deal the rebellion a great morale blow that they would not likely survive. I prefer the latter.”
“So you have allowed fear to cloud your vision when fate has already handed you a chance for victory in this war.”
Sullivan bristled, “Are you calling me a coward, Chief Aurora?”
“No, sir. I am merely pointing out that your experience with past events has colored your view of the present. You see the return of the rebellion as a threat to any who would rule in Alexandria, but I see an opportunity to crush our primary enemy.”
“I’ve heard these arguments before,” Sullivan warned. “And I’m not sure you appreciate just how dangerous a fully reunited Silent Thunder would be.”
“Even if they could be made to serve you?” Liz asked. “Think of it, Emperor. You have knowledge of the World System the rebellion’s leaders could only dream of, but you have no forces in striking distance of Alexandria. They are in Alexandria, but don’t have a full picture of what it would take to bring Napoleon Alexander’s beast to its knees. With your knowledge and their Spectral Gladii, just how long do you think it would be before Alexander came to you begging for reprieve?”
Sullivan’s eyes alighted at the notion of the MWR begging him for mercy, and then a smile spread slowly across his face, “You are quite the seductress, Elizabeth. I think you will do very well among the political sharks that will soon descend upon this city.”
“I was merely stating a perceived tactical advantage—”
“Please, it was meant as a compliment,” Sullivan raised a hand to dismiss his comment. “There are, after all, many forms of seduction. If you know what a man wants most, you will find yourself in power over that man.”
“My only concern, sir, is putting the Conglomerate in a position of strength from which it can easily take the barrier around Domination Crisis Eleven. You could have used Elijah Charity to gain access to the rebellion and form an alliance.”
“Yes, but I’m afraid that bridge has burned,” Sullivan said. “You were my only link to him, and I doubt he took your betrayal lightly.”
“No, it cannot be me.”
“It cannot be Charity either, Chief Aurora. I recognize the merits of what you suggest, but to place a Charity at the head of Silent Thunder is pure foolishness. We would never be able to achieve our goals with the weight of support he would bring to the rebellion.”
“But how else could we convince the rebellion to join with us?”
“I’m sure there is a way,” Sullivan smiled. “You have a good amount of time before the fleet returns—time you may use to peruse the archives we seized upon our takeover of the city. As fate would have it, the world is filled with rebels who would love nothing more than to see the World System fall. All you need is to find the right one.”
“Are you giving approval for me to pursue this plan, sir?”
“I’m open to suggestions, yes. But there are limits to what I will accept. We cannot afford to pursue plans that can never come to fruition, not when the World System is planning a counterattack even as we speak.”
“How long do I have?”
“Two days, maybe three,” Sullivan replied. “You bring me a viable plan by then, and I will make sure it is put onto play.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“I just hope you know what you’re doing,” Sullivan sighed. “But for now, I suggest you get some rest. You’ve had quite an exciting day.”
Liz nodded, though she had no intention of sleeping. If she only had two days to form this plan, she needed to get started right away. If it didn’t work, it could be years before the civil war ended. She wasn’t naive enough to think that Sullivan would actually keep his word in a year’s time; she had to make it worth his while to assault the barrier around Domination Crisis Eleven, or it would never happen.
Sullivan made a motion for Colonel Orion to approach, “The colonel will show you to your quarters. I hope you’ll find them adequate.”
Orion smiled and gave a short bow as he came near, “Good to see you again, Miss Aurora. If you’ll follow me...”
The colonel started to walk away from the main structure of the basilica to one of the buildings that embraced the colonnade, and Liz made to follow.
“Just one more thing, Elizabeth,” Sullivan stopped her.
“Yes?”
The emperor stepped up and whispered threateningly, “If you breathe a word of this conversation to anyone, not only will I make sure you never see your family again, but I will make it my life’s mission to break down that barrier and burn all of Domination Crisis Eleven to the ground. Is that clear?�
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“Crystal, sir,” Liz replied, jaw set in anger.
“Excellent,” Sullivan brightened. “Then welcome to Rome, Chief of Command.”
16
301’S FIST CONNECTED AGAIN with the bag, the force of his combined blows finally bringing out a soreness in his arms. A distant throb also nagged him from his forehead, the lingering effects of where his head had been stitched up when they returned from the Tower. Still, he didn’t stop. It was good to keep moving, to be taking some sort of action. If he slowed down, even for a moment, he might go insane with the thoughts competing for his attention. As the greatest mystery of his life continued to emerge before his eyes, it gave birth to new questions—new fears.
He had all but given up hope that he would ever discover the truth about his parents or the circumstances that brought him to the Capital Orphanage of Alexandria. Most of the children there were orphans almost from birth and wouldn’t have known their real parents if they walked up to them on the street. He had accepted this reality at a young age and resolved never to look back, refusing to wallow in a past he could not change.
But the past had found him nonetheless, and now it threatened to swallow him. Whether he wanted to embrace it or not, the fact remained that he was the son of Jonathan Charity. Despite his wishful doubts and thin excuses, he couldn’t deny it any longer.
He burned your mother alive.
301 punched the bag a little harder, embracing the pain as it spread up his arms and to his shoulders. Since leaving the Communications Tower he couldn’t get the vision of the flames out of his head. He felt the sadness…tasted the despair…and grasped at a memory so horrible he almost wanted it to stay forgotten. It was not the fire that hurt him the most. It was the eyes, green pools of anguish that seared his soul more than fire ever could.
And he had spent his life serving the man responsible.
“You know, if you don’t get any sleep you’re not going to be any use on the battlefield.”
