Fall: Cross of the past, key of the future (Numbered Book 4)

by Magus Tor

  “As I'll ever be,” she said, and they set off.

  The going was just as tough as she remembered. On the flat ground, their feet sank past the level of their shoes into the sand, and climbing up the dunes meant sliding one step back for every two steps forward. At least going down again was fun, since they could sit on their behinds and simply slide all the way down.

  Aurelia noticed that the grey on the horizon was becoming darker and thicker as they got closer to the cavern. “What is that?” she asked Nicholas. It looked like a lot more smoke than just a few campfires.

  “Looks like battle smoke,” he said grimly, and kept walking.

  The gnawing dread in her stomach grew, and as much as she tried to ignore the feeling, Aurelia knew it was getting stronger and stronger the closer they got to the Resistance hideout. An hour of walking, then two, and Aurelia was starting to feel panicky. Again and again she got a deep, certain feeling that something was wrong.

  Nicholas offered a hand and pulled her to the top of the dune they were currently climbing. He shielded his eyes with his hand, then nodded and pointed.

  “There,” he said.

  She looked where he was pointing and saw the two towers of rock that marked the entrance to the underground cavern. Saying nothing, she started off down the slope, walking as fast as she could towards her parents.

  The cool of the rocks was like cold water on her skin when she finally came under the shadow of the towers. Ducking down, she entered the small hole that widened out into a tunnel, Nicholas following her. She walked, almost running now. She had been here before, knew where she was going.

  Almost immediately it became clear that something was very, very wrong here. There were people, but they were all hurrying, hands laden, dirty, some bloody. There was no chatter, no laughing, just urgent, tense conversation. No one tried to stop them. Avoiding what she knew to be the large gathering hall in the centre of the complex, Aurelia rushed through smaller tunnels until at last the corridor she was in began to slope upwards. At the top of the slope, she knew she'd find the office that had once been Jonathon's and that her father had taken over. She had no idea if Nicholas was still behind her, and she didn't wait to find out.

  Now she was running. Her feet smacked on the hard rock floor of the tunnel, lungs gasping for air and legs aching as they carried her up and up the slope. The deep, dark feeling of despair rose up inside her, and she was already crying, though she didn't know why. Reaching the top of the slope, she turned and saw that the door to the office was cracked open. She heard weeping coming from inside. With a shaking hand, she pushed at the door until it was wide open and she could see the person sitting at the large desk, head in hands.

  Chapter Seven

  Aurelia stared for a moment, not believing what she was seeing, but knowing inside exactly what had happened. Then she collected herself, wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her uniform, and went inside.

  “Mum?” She put her hand on her mother's shoulder.

  Seeing who it was, her mother stood and immediately took Aurelia into her arms. She could feel her mother's chest heaving as she sobbed. Not knowing what else to do, she held her, stroking her hair as her mother used to do to her when she was small. She didn't know how long they stood there, but eventually her mother's cries became sporadic, and her breathing slowed down.

  “You came fast,” said her mother, pulling out of the embrace. “How did you hear so quickly?”

  Aurelia didn't know how to explain. “I didn't hear,” she said. She sat her mother down on the desk chair. “I was just coming to visit.”

  Her mother's eyes widened. “But...”

  “I know,” said Aurelia, gently. And suddenly it seemed incredibly important that she know exactly what had happened. “Can you tell me about it?”

  Her mother shook her head but started talking anyway. “There have been random attacks here for the last few days. We think they're just testing our defences, trying to work out how we're getting people in and out, where we're hiding. They usually happen around dusk and dawn, when the light is low and before the heat hits.”

  Aurelia perched on the edge of the desk.

  “This morning, your father went out with some of the men. I asked him not to, but...you know what he's like. What he was like. He said that if he was going to make a report that risked the lives of others, then he had a responsibility to see what was happening with his own eyes.”

  Aurelia found herself smiling. That did sound very much like her father.

  “They were hit. About a kilometre or so from here. Ambushed. A force was waiting for them, outnumbering them two to one. They didn't stand a chance. By pure luck, another scouting party heard screaming and went to investigate. They got everyone back here, but...”

  “It was too late,” said Aurelia, quietly.

  “It was too late,” said her mother.

  The problem was that Aurelia knew what battle casualties looked like by now, and she couldn't help but morbidly wonder how her father looked. Was he one of the lucky ones? The ones who looked like they'd fallen asleep, the ones caught by the stunner at just the right angle? Or was he...not? She took deep breaths, trying to get the pictures out of her mind. There was a cough from the doorway.

  “May I come in?” asked Nicholas, looking awkward.

  Aurelia nodded.

  “I've just heard, Aurelia. And I'm very, very sorry.” His eyes were pained, his face pale. “And Mrs. Cole, please accept my sympathy.”

  Aurelia's mother looked at him, then recognised who he was. “Nicholas,” she said, her voice not quite breaking. “Perhaps you can call me Sasha now?”

  It was those things—the little politenesses, the little normal, everyday things that just kept happening that made Aurelia hold herself together. Her father was gone, and she felt like she'd lost her centre, that her world should crumble around her. But people went on eating and drinking and laughing and introducing themselves to each other, reminding her again and again in the smallest of ways that life would, did, continue.

  “Er... There's something I need to ask you, Sasha,” said Nicholas, uncertainly. “You see, we need to know what to do...” His voice trailed off as he tried to think of how to put things diplomatically.

  “You need to know what to do with my husband's body,” said Aurelia's mother. “I understand. Aurelia, I think that your father would like to be here, in these caverns. It's where he was happy; he was always happy working. And with everything he'd worked for finally coming to fruition, here is where he was at his happiest. What do you think?”

  Aurelia nodded. “I think he would have liked that,” she said.

  Nicholas looked from one woman to the other. “Are you sure?” When they assented, he sighed. “That makes things easier. Would you object to burial?”

  Burial was unusual in the Empire; most bodies were cremated in the huge Crematoria outside of the Cities. But instinctively, Aurelia knew that having a piece of her father here was the right thing to do, so she shook her head.

  “Let me make the arrangements, then,” said Nicholas, turning to leave.

  Aurelia's mother sank back into her chair. She looked exhausted. But the two women weren't alone for long. Moments after Nicholas left, there was a knock at the door and a young soldier entered.

  “Ma'am, I'm sorry to disturb you at this time, but...”

  He didn't have time to finish his sentence.

  “But the evening patrols need organising and the grid patterns decided and authorised,” said her mother. “I'll be there momentarily.” She dismissed him with a sharp nod of the head.

  Aurelia raised her eyebrows. She was astonished to see her mother looking almost angry.

  “I've lost my husband, the only man I've ever loved,” said her mother, voice like iron and eyes flashing. “And I'm damned if I'm going to lose the thing that he loved. We will win this War.”

  Her mother swept out of the room, leaving Aurelia feeling confused. She'd rarely seen her mot
her angry, even when she was a child. To be honest, she'd been a good kid, and her mother really hadn't had reason to be angry with her. Her sense told her that her mother wasn't angry with her now—she was hurting and needed to do something, needed to be active. But still, Aurelia thought that she could have taken a while to recover before going back to work.

  Looking around the small office, she found the com system and placed a call to Jonathon. He was the only person she wanted to talk to right now. But the com rang out, he didn't pick up, and Aurelia felt herself sliding into black sadness. She collapsed onto the desk chair and allowed herself to cry, feeling the hot tears slipping down her cheeks and the ragged sobs tearing at her throat. But she couldn't cry forever.

  Taking a deep breath, she saw a small, painted stone on the desk and picked it up. Then she smiled. She remembered this. She'd picked it up one day when she was very young, not even in training yet, and had desperately wanted to give it to her father with the eagerness of a small child, thinking that maybe it was precious. Of course, it wasn't at all. But her mother had from somewhere found paint, and she had decorated the stone and presented it to her father proudly. And he had loved it. He'd used it as a paperweight on his desk for as long as she could remember, and now, here it was, in 05.

  She shook her head. Her father wouldn't want this. He was the most logical of men. If he'd seen her crying in this way, he'd have immediately found her something to do with her time, something to take her focus off her feelings.

  “Give them time to get control of themselves,” he'd used to say about feelings. “Or else they get control of you.”

  Again, she smiled. Getting up from the desk, she pocketed the painted stone. She needed to work.

  The injured men from the earlier attack were in one of the lower-level tunnels, and Aurelia was satisfied to see that one of Elza's medical teams was hard at work stabilising them. She made herself known to the team leader and was put to work, tending to the wounded and giving comfort where she could.

  She spent hours underground, until eventually all that could be done was done, and then she stood, stretched her aching back. She was surprised to see Nicholas standing and waiting for her.

  “How long have you been here?” she asked.

  “A little while,” he said. “I like watching you work. How are you feeling?”

  She considered the question. “I guess I'm okay,” she said.

  He nodded and smiled at her a little. “It's almost time.”

  “For what?”

  “Your father...” He paused for a moment. “People wanted to say goodbye. Your mother agreed. She said that you didn't have to come if you didn't want to, but I thought you would want to be there.”

  Aurelia pushed her hair off her damp forehead. “Yes,” she said. “I would.”

  She followed Nicholas down the long tunnel, thinking how surreal this all was. She had never lost anyone so close to her before, and the whole concept of what had happened hadn't really sunk in yet. She had seen her mother grieve privately for her grandmother, a deep sadness inside her that she didn't allow to prevent her from working. Maybe that's how it’s done, she thought. You just go on and push yourself to do the things you have to do until the crippling depression has passed.

  Nicholas took her up a level, then turned, and she knew where they were going. Sure enough, a few turns later he stopped at the entrance to what she knew was a stage and a large auditorium. Her mother was already there.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked Aurelia.

  Aurelia nodded. She could hear the voices as other people were filing into the cavern, and she turned to Nicholas.

  “Don't worry,” he said. “I'm here.”

  He went out onto the stage. Sasha took her daughter's hand, and they followed. The room was filled with an awesome quiet—so many people, so many faces. Standing on either side of Nicholas, Aurelia and her mother let him speak. He kept it short and simple.

  “We're here to say goodbye to a good man. A great man,” he began quietly. “He worked endlessly and tirelessly to create a world that was free and equal for all of us. He will not see the results of his work, but we will all strive even harder to accomplish his goals for him.”

  Aurelia swallowed back tears.

  “Nearly all of you knew Stefan. It's only right that you are here to send him on his way. And whatever happens, wherever he is now, his legacy will live through us.”

  Nicholas took a step back, then gently ushered Aurelia and her mother down the stairs to the front of the stage, where a rectangular box was lying on a stand. Aurelia knew what this was and took a deep breath before approaching it.

  She allowed her mother to go first, watching as she laid her small hand on the top of the box. Her lips moved as though she were saying something, then she half smiled and walked away.

  Aurelia put her own hand on the box, feeling the rough texture of the plastic under her skin. What should she say? There was so much that she wanted to tell him, that she'd never had time to tell him. The tears almost started again, and she bit them back.

  “I'm proud of you, Dad,” she whispered. “And I love you.”

  She joined her mother, and they watched as a long line of Resistance fighters slowly paid their respects to her father. And when she could watch no more, Aurelia quietly slipped out of the room.

  What she was doing was dangerous—she knew that, but she couldn't help it. Running up the tunnel, she could see a pale, soft glow at the end. There could be Elite Army soldiers anywhere around here, but she didn't care. In a rush, she spilled out of the tunnel mouth and then was outside, taking deep, full breaths of the night air.

  The air calmed her. After a few minutes, she sat on a large rock under the shelter of one of the towers and rested her head against the stone. She looked out into the night, trying not to think. The smells were different out here, the burning scent of hot sun on sand that still hadn't faded, though the night was getting cooler now. There was a hint of smoke in the breeze too. Slowly, she filtered sand through her fingers, letting the grains flow through the gaps before reaching down to pick up another handful.

  She'd been sitting for a half hour or so before Nicholas found her.

  “You really shouldn't be out here,” he said, but came to sit next to her anyway.

  “I know,” she said. “But I needed the air.”

  “It gets a little stuffy down there, doesn't it?” he said.

  “Mmm.”

  They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes.

  “Are you going to be alright?” he asked her eventually.

  “I...I guess. In time. It's hard.”

  “I can't imagine,” Nicholas said. He put his hand on her leg and squeezed gently. It wasn't a sign of love as it had often been in the past, but one of friendship, and she was glad he was with her.

  “Thank you for everything you've done today,” she said.

  “Your father has been buried,” he answered, not acknowledging her thanks.

  “I thought so. I just couldn't watch it, that's all.”

  “Too final,” he said, understanding quickly.

  “Something like that.”

  Again they sat in silence, the night breeze ruffling their hair, and Aurelia was reminded of the quiet nights they'd spent on Lunar outside the dome. At first, the silence there had terrified her, but she'd come to appreciate the peace, the chance to just let her thoughts empty out of her head.

  Her back was starting to ache against the rough stone of the tower. She adjusted her position a little, and Nicholas caught her eye.

  “Ready to go back in?” he said.

  She nodded.

  He stood and offered her his hand, pulling her up. They were both brushing sand off themselves when there was a huge roar from the cavern.

  “What was that?” Aurelia said, turning quickly towards the cavern entrance.

  Nicholas put a hand on her arm to hold her back, and the sound came again.

&nbs
p; “It's people,” he said.

  For a third time, the sound rang out into the still, quiet night.

  “They're cheering,” Aurelia said, finally identifying the roar.

  Hurriedly, they both stepped back inside the cavern entrance and began to run down the tunnels, shoes clicking against the floor, making for the source of the noise. Aurelia's heart was racing. The sound of so many men cheering together was still ringing in her ears, but why? What on Earth could there be to celebrate? They were joined by others, all running in the same direction.

  As they got closer to the auditorium, men began coming the other way, slapping each other on the back, obviously celebrating. Nicholas pulled on Aurelia's arm to stop her.

  “Wait!” he said. He pulled up one of the men exiting the hall. “What's going on?”

  The man laughed. “You haven't heard? We've taken 02!”

  Nicholas let the man go and turned to Aurelia, who shook her head in wonder. “We've only been gone a day,” she said.

  They went into the auditorium anyway, the room echoing with shouts of celebration. Men were everywhere, smiling and laughing; and despite her sadness, Aurelia found the mood contagious. Then there was a loud yell and a whistle from the front of the room. Turning, Aurelia was shocked to see her mother standing on the stage.

  “Men!” she cried, her voice powerful for such a small woman. She waited for the room to quieten before continuing. “You've obviously all heard, but there should be an official announcement anyway,” she said, smiling a little.

  “Today is a sad day. I have lost my husband, you your leader. But it is also a day that Stefan would have been very proud of. As of six o'clock this evening, the Resistance Army is officially in control of City 02. The central islands have been taken, and the inhabitants of 02 have surrendered to the Resistance.”

  Another rousing cheer shook the room, and Aurelia found herself cheering too. But this was impossible. How had Jonathon done it? In a mere twenty-four hours, he had taken the City. She looked at Nicholas, who was grinning, and had a feeling that he knew exactly how it had been done. Tugging at his arm, she pulled him out of the chamber.