The Book of Olivia

by Paxton Summers

  Dragging my finger across the virtual screen, I adjusted the holo-recorder. This time it was live, projecting out to all the other cities in our great empire. I got one chance to tell the story right—to beg for forgiveness and cooperation. “Good people of Aeropia. I am broadcasting this message from our capital city in the south. Some of you may call me friend, most of you call me enemy, but that is not important. I hope this message reaches you, that you have time to prepare for the wake that will wash up on your defenses if this city falls. If you do anything with this message, I pray you don’t sit by idly and listen.”

  I turned to glance out the window, watching the ships draw closer. We had half an hour at most. “Now is a time for action—a time to bridge the chasm that has opened in our country and divided us. Separated, we cannot stand against our enemies. This is a hard lesson I have learned in the last five years, one I should hope will keep you from making the same mistakes.” I let the holo-recorder follow my gaze. “Today, we either stand together or dig our graves. Choose, and do not let the prejudices of the past be your guide.

  “Every day we make choices. Those decisions will forever alter our lives and the lives of those who we come into contact with. The change can be slight, or massive, but there is always something different because of what we did.

  “Cause and effect have often been described as ripples on a pond. When a stone is thrown into still water, it results in rings that radiate outward. Once it starts, it can’t be stopped, but the ripples can be altered by objects in their paths, and perhaps that’s what we are trying to do now—alter the ripples caused by our actions.

  “One fact—whatever choices you make, you must live with the consequences. If you choose to eat too much, you get fat and encounter health problems. If you do drugs or drink to excess, you may die or find yourself in a situation you would not otherwise be in if you were thinking clearly. The thing is, it was always your choice, no matter what you tell yourself when you reap the consequences of your actions—from that stone you tossed in.

  “My life now is what I made it, a choice I will live with until I die. I cannot blame anyone else, nor do I want to, but I can take ownership of what I’ve done and do what I need to repair some of the damage.

  “Free will is what we continue to fight for, and it’s what got us into this mess. I could have thrown my hands up a hundred times and crossed the border to seek asylum, but that would not be owning up to what I’ve done. That would be running like a coward.”

  Something I’ve never been.

  Axel slipped into the drainage pipe. He tugged on the harness and tightened the rope. Marcus stumbled forward when the clamp on his harness caught and he smacked his head on the top of the drain. Bong!

  “You coming or am I dragging you?”

  “Coming, dear.” Marcus grabbed the rope with both hands and yanked back. A loud thud echoed from down in the pipe, followed by some very colorful words in the clone’s unique tongue. Marcus wasn’t sure what Axel said, but from the tone, it wasn’t pretty. A smile crept onto his face. He stooped down and climbed in.

  “Don’t call me dear,” Axel snarled.

  “Oh, you heard that? I didn’t think so, the way you were whining and carrying on like a little girl.” The rope snapped taut and Marcus slipped, shooting down the pipe. He flew out the end and the rope caught, holding him dangling over the massive cistern. Axel hung a few feet below him, swinging back and forth, glaring up. Auxiliary lights, powered by a mini hydro dam, began to glow when they picked up movement. Half a dozen of the dome-shaped bulbs lit the large chamber like day.

  Marcus glanced down. Dark shadows moved through the water under them. Very big shadows.

  “Tell them to ease off the rope,” Axel yelled up.

  “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

  “We need some slack if we’re going to get to the other side of this chamber.”

  “How do you propose to do that?” Everywhere Marcus had looked, there was nowhere to go but down.

  “We can swing and catch one of the support pillars to climb down.”

  The stone giants didn’t look easy to climb, but they did provide a solution—that was, if they didn’t fall off and into the cistern. Marcus eyed whatever swam below. “And what about our friends in the water?”

  “Don’t worry. If you fall in, the current will suck you into the main and you should drown before they eat you.”

  “Of course. So much better.” He should take his knife and cut the bastard free. However, if he did, the city would drown and then implode into a hole in the ground. The engineers had been unable to locate the master controls to the drains. Marcus glanced up at the pipe and the light pouring down. He lifted his wrist com and spoke. “Lower us.”

  There was a jerk, and then they dropped, hitting the water with a loud splash. As Marcus went under, he made a mental note to explain by means of a few excruciating field exercises the difference between lower and drop—if he made it out alive.

  As promised, the current caught him, washing him toward the main and away from the beasts looking for a meal. That current also took them by a deck. All would be okay if he could get to the surface for air and swim for it.

  As he thought he was about to drown, a hand snagged his wrist and tugged him to the surface. Marcus gasped for air and flailed.

  “Stop splashing.”

  He snagged Axel’s hair and pulled him under, unable to control the panic. Axel grabbed his shoulders while they were submerged, and brought his knee up into his groin. Bubbles whooshed from Marcus’s mouth, racing for the surface. Instant paralysis. He sucked in a lungful of water to replace the wasted oxygen and immediately realized his mistake. His heart raced and he grabbed for Axel in desperation to get to the surface.

  Axel hooked his arm around his neck and arched back. With the crook of his elbow locked around Marcus’s throat, he pulled him to the surface and then tipped them both on their backs to float.

  Marcus vomited up water, desperately trying to suck in air past the liquid obstruction. He coughed and successfully drew a breath. “When I get out of here, I’m going to kill you.”

  “If you keep splashing around like that, there won’t be enough left of you to do it.”

  The shadows. Marcus went still.

  Axel’s voice dropped. “They’re under us. Don’t move. Drift with the current. The crocodiles that live in the underground channels are blind and operate on sound and movement. Vibrations in the water draw them. They’re already searching where we landed.”

  “I’ve never seen crocodiles that big.”

  “They’ve evolved since the war. Big teeth, bigger appetites, and twice the size of any you’d find up north, and they have a taste for Aeropite.”

  “I don’t like you.”

  “Likewise.” Axel tightened his grip.

  As they approached the opening to the main, Axel released him and sank below the water, gliding away. He resurfaced at a deck off to Marcus’s left. “Don’t move. I can see a big one under you.”

  Crap. Don’t move? Kind of hard not to, knowing he was floating on the surface like fish food. Instead, he closed his eyes and lay back, staying on the surface, doing his best to remain calm and afloat. I’m driftwood.

  Something sharp slid along the back of his leg, but he didn’t even flinch. “Anytime now. Something just sliced me.”

  “The top of a building. Get out of the water.”

  “I thought you said no moving.”

  “That’s before you started bleeding. They’ve caught your scent, and they’re headed your way.” Axel pulled himself up onto the dry deck next to the main and tugged the rope. “Kick. Swim. Get your ass out. I can see the blood, and you can bet they can follow it.”

  Marcus kicked and went under, drawing in a lungful of water. The rope yanked, and he resurfaced, coughing, flailing his arms and slapping the surface. “I can’t. The rope is wrapped around whatever is under the water.” Something brushed by his boot, and Marcus
tugged on the rope.

  Axel dropped the rope. “The things I do for that woman.” He dove in, knife in hand. What seemed like minutes later, Axel pushed Marcus up on the deck and disappeared. Several more minutes went by before he reemerged, throwing his knife onto the deck and hefting his body out of the water. He staggered and then dropped to his knees in front of the wall. Marcus’s shoulders rose and fell in heavy breaths. A cough and he rolled to the side to vomit more of the water from his lungs. He rolled to look at his rescuer and blinked. A red pool formed around where Axel kneeled.

  He sucked in and vomited again, clearing his lungs to a watery wheeze. He glanced down to his leg to see a small puddle of blood, drips compared to the pool under Axel. “You’re bleeding.”

  “Yes. A flesh wound,” Axel rasped back. “Valves are open, and the bombs are disarmed.” His voice sounded uneven, strained. “We good now?”

  “As soon as the towers go back up.” Marcus eyed the growing red puddle. “That’s a lot of blood for a flesh wound. Let me see it.”

  Axel did a face plant into the deck, his arm, or what should be his arm, was now clearly visible. Everything from two inches below the elbow didn’t exist. Not neat, or clean, but torn off in ragged flesh with bone jutting out. Blood squirted with each beat of his heart, the only indication the clone wasn’t dead.

  “Shit.” Flesh wound indeed. Marcus crawled over to Axel, fumbling with the rope while the clone leader gasped and rolled to his back.

  “Shit hurts.” His face remained like stone, but pain radiated from his eyes.

  “No kidding. Who’d have thought a scratch would hurt that bad?”

  Axel barked out a laugh and cringed, pulling his stump to his chest. “There go my dreams of playing the violin.”

  “Seriously?” Marcus looked at him.

  “Nah, a joke. To lighten the mood.”

  “Right. I didn’t know psychopaths had a sense of humor. Stay still. I’m going put a tourniquet on you. If I don’t, you’re going to bleed out.”

  “You think?” Axel snorted.

  “Yeah, I think, and I’m not going to let you.” Marcus cut a section of the rope and snagged Axel’s discarded knife.

  “Why are you doing this?” His voice came out in labored gasps. Shock wasn’t far off. Neither was death. “I’m a clone. Why don’t you just let me die?”

  “You’re still human… and a friend.”

  “Can’t say I’d have returned the favor.”

  “You already did. You hauled my butt out of that water. Why?” Marcus grabbed his arm and slid the hemp section around it, slipping the knife handle under it. “This might hurt a bit.”

  Axel raised a brow.

  “Never mind.” Marcus gave it several twists, until the flow of blood stopped. He fastened the tourniquet with a torn strip of fabric and dropped next to Axel, leaning against the wall. “A fine picture we present.”

  Axel closed his eyes and nodded. “Next time, I won’t use my fist to knock its teeth down its throat.”

  “You got any other ideas?” Marcus watched the water that churned and foamed from the crocodiles feeding off the carcass of their dead friend, the one with Axel’s arm in its guts.

  “No. You?” Axel closed his eyes, resting his head back against the stone block, somehow still conscious through the shock and pain. Any other man would have succumbed an hour ago.

  The water had only dropped a foot. They’d released the valve, but it could take hours for the water to drain enough that they could access the tunnels into the palace. Marcus only hoped the power came back up soon.

  Marcus groaned and stretched his legs out in front of him. The cut ached, his body hurt, and his head still spun. The last thing he wanted was to owe his life to the bastard who sat next to him, pathetic as he looked.

  “So,” Axel said. “How are we going to handle this?”

  “I think we’re going to keep our butts parked on this deck until those beasts gorge themselves on their dead buddy and lose interest in us. They already got a taste for you, and from the looks of it, they liked it. Then we can make our way over to the tunnel into my office.”

  Axel snorted. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

  Marcus shifted, trying to take the weight of his body off the injury on the back of his thigh. “Olivia?”

  “Yes.”

  “She’s my wife. End of discussion.”

  “Is it? I love that woman more than my life, and I’m not under your laws. No laws that govern me say she’s married to you.”

  “Then what do you suggest we do? I’m not letting her go.”

  “You’re probably not going to like this, but let her decide who she wants to be with. Whoever she doesn’t choose will walk away… let her go.”

  “What?”

  “You got a better idea?

  “I can’t marry again. I get one shot. Aeropia’s church prohibits divorce.”

  Axel sighed. “I’m serious. She was never given a choice before. Let her have it. I’ll honor whatever it is. Will you?”

  “It will kill me, but yes. I’ll walk away.” All the lights popped on. Marcus squinted, trying to let his eyes adjust to the glare. “Generators are up. Looks like we got the job done.”

  “Sir, everyone okay?” someone shouted down the drain.

  “No, we need medical treatment and help out of here.”

  “We’re on our way. The tunnels are almost clear. Shields are up and our friends from the United Regions are in for a nasty surprise. Hang on. We’re bringing a boat to you.”

  “Not going anywhere.”

  Marcus glanced around the cistern. “First chance, I want to see what it was Herod was hiding down here. The United Regions don’t need this city, but they sure are trying damn hard to get their hands on it. I believe my brother has something to do with it, that he’s helping them.”

  “Yeah, I have a feeling you’re right. There’s something down here they want, and the sooner we know what that is, the better.”

  When the power came back on, the city drew in a deep breath and exhaled. I could feel the exchange of energy as certain as if someone slapped me awake. The fear I’d carried, the tension in my shoulders, the churning in my stomach, all flowed from my body, and my grip on the windowsill eased. My fingers tingled as the blood rushed to them.

  Why did I do it? Why did I become a traitor? Pilot’s question came back to me.

  I did it for the love of a man I can never have.

  Outside my window, ships hit the pulse field, and the charge that kept them in the sky snapped off. A primary law of physics played out before me. I could feel it in my heart and soul. From here on out, things would be different for all of us.

  Energy could neither be created nor destroyed. It merely transferred, as it did when you smacked a newborn’s backside and they cried, or fired off a rocket to watch it shoot into the heavens by pushing off the backward momentum—or as it did when the enemy craft that had been headed for us dropped into a nosedive.

  The crowd outside cheered as enemy ships impacted the shield. Boom, boom, boom. Their destruction rolled across the horizon like thunder. The windows in my room rattled and the floor shook, equaled in fervor by the celebratory ruckus several floors below on the streets.

  Boot steps rushing beside gurneys down the hall outside my door drew my attention. The shouts for a surgeon brought that energy back to me full circle, knotting my guts. I rushed as fast as I could go with my healing injuries and watched nurses and doctors drift by.

  Only because of the nanites, I’d lived and begun to heal quickly. Axel didn’t have the luxury. Blood soaked the sheets covering him. He appeared to sleep, and his face was the palest I’d ever seen it. My chest constricted, and I forgot to breathe.

  I’d come to terms with our separation. It was his death I could not get a grasp on. I doubted I would ever be ready for it and seeing him like that nearly destroyed me.

  Marcus came next. He caught my gaze and reached for me as
he limped by. “He’s alive.”

  My strength drained, and my knees hit the tile. Then tears I’d held for years poured from my eyes. Relief. Fear. The words Marcus had chosen to speak in passing were exactly what I needed to hear—and feared most.

  I pressed my hand over my belly. The birth control shot I’d been given before my handfasting had run out. With my weak heart, my parents had been advised I should take precautions against conception. It had been a temporary fix, meant to protect me until I had a transplant.

  I have not told them yet. I did not know which man helped me to create the baby, but I knew without a doubt who the father would be.

  There were choices you made—not because you wanted to, but because you had to. I had to let Axel go. I had clung to him as a crutch, and our relationship had been based on dependence. I now knew who I belonged with, where I needed to be.

  I’d also realized on this crazy journey, Axel was in love with an idea, and I had represented all he’d wanted. And Marcus, he wanted me. He had never tried to change me and saw me as a woman, not a means to obtaining power and control. Clone or not, I was his Olivia and always would be.

  How I wished I could say the same of my own feelings, but a piece of my heart belonged to a clone, a man I’d loved since I’d met him as a teenager. I chose to stay with Marcus, but it did not mean I loved him. We’d only begun to delve into who we were together, and our feelings for each other were not as cultivated as what I had with Axel.

  You cannot turn love off. I knew this. When I closed my eyes at night, it was not Marcus’s face I saw, but another. Axel was not right for me. He never was, and it was my hope, some night when I drifted off into sleep, my husband would be there in my dreams, and it would no longer be the clone I danced with in my hidden garden or snuck glances at across the courtyard.

  Someday, I would love Marcus.

  Axel would have to find his soul, and perhaps along the way he’d find the love of a woman who could give him what he so desperately needed—acceptance and her whole heart, not a fragment—a woman whose only duty would be to stand beside him.