Tempus Regit

by Edmund Hughes

  Her breasts pushed upward, drawing the fabric of her gown taut, showing the points of her nipples underneath. Archer felt something primal surge up, sweeping the rest of his concerns into the background, at least for the moment. He felt underneath the bottom hem of Leigh’s gown, between her thighs. She wasn’t wearing any panties.

  He surged forward, pulling her onto him as he thrust. Leigh let out a gasp and wrapped her arms around him. Archer forced himself to go slow. He didn’t move for a moment, and just held her, looking into her eyes, feeling the emotional connection along with the physical.

  Then, he began sliding back and forth, pumping his cock into her. Leigh made small noises of pleasure, each one an aphrodisiac to him in his already aroused state. Archer groped at her breasts and kissed her neck. He savored her, his attendant, his lover. She was his to take, and he loved her.

  He let himself speed up a little. Leigh shifted on the couch, spreading her thighs wider. Archer gripped her buttocks tightly and let himself get into the rhythm of sex, thrusting and touching, his hands moving across her body and luxuriating in her softness.

  So many different emotions flooded over him. Predominant over all of them was a deep, young, eager sense of arousal and need. Leigh was beautiful and open to him. He cared for her, but in that moment, haunted by everything he’d seen over the past day, all he wanted to do was sate his base instincts.

  Leigh’s legs wrapped around him for a moment. Archer was thrusting too fast for them to stay where they were. He pulled her night gown up and over her head roughly, seeing her naked body as if for the first time. He kissed each of her breasts and then squeezed them, eliciting a hot little squeal from her.

  “Archer,” she whispered. “You’re… too rough.”

  He barely heard her, animal instincts pushing him to fuck fast and fuck hard. Leigh let out another little squeal, more of pain this time then pleasure. Archer leaned in to give her a passionate kiss, and she set both hands on either side of her face, forcing him to look into her eyes.

  “Relax.” She leaned back, pushing her breasts out. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  It was exactly what he needed to hear. Archer thrust forward again, this time gentler than he had before. Leigh cupped his cheek, dominating him with a gaze that managed to be sensual and lewd at the same time. It was more intimate than anything he’d ever experienced before.

  Slowly, and together, they built back up into a mutually pleasurable rhythm. They were both sweaty from their exertions. Archer was grunting slightly as he thrust into her, and Leigh softly moaned, her voice high, clear and angelic.

  She arched her back and let out a wordless cry as her climax found her. Archer was thrusting as deep as he could go, feeling her and loving the sensation. He pulled her in close as he reached his limit, his arms hugging her, but also protecting her. He didn’t pull out, and Leigh didn’t say anything about it. The pleasure was vivid and soft.

  They stayed like that for several minutes, enjoying each other’s warmth. Archer rolled over so that Leigh could rest her head on his chest. He was surprised when he looked at her and saw tears in her eyes.

  “Hey,” he said, stroking her hair. “What’s wrong?”

  “…I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “Archer… I’m so sorry.”

  “Leigh, you haven’t done anything wrong,” he said. “It’s okay. We’ll be alright.”

  I just need to protect her and the people I care about. It’s so clear to me, now.

  “Archer…” whispered Leigh. “She ordered me to kill you.”

  He stared at her, sure that he’d misheard, or misunderstood. Leigh had her eyes closed, and didn’t see him shake his head in confusion.

  “…What?” he asked. “Leigh… what are you talking about?”

  “I can’t do it,” she said. “I won’t. Even if it means… something happens to Riley.”

  Archer put his hand on her head, frantically connecting the dots.

  “Your sister,” he said. “Is she being threatened? By who?”

  Leigh finally opened her eyes to look at him. He figured it out at the same time as she gave her answer.

  “Emily,” she said.

  Archer stood up, still being gentle with her. She had trusted him enough to tell him, and even though he was sure that her deceit probably extended into being a spy for Emily, he felt like he could trust her, too. At least, now he could.

  “Why?” said Archer. “Why does she want me dead?”

  “I… I don’t know,” said Leigh. “It has something to do with the city, and her promised land. Archer, I knew I couldn’t do it. Maybe when we’d first met, before I knew you, but not now. You have to believe me.”

  “I believe you,” he said. “This just… doesn’t make any sense. What would she have to gain by killing me?”

  Leigh shook her head, and Archer knew that the only way he’d get answers would be from the source. He didn’t bother waiting, instead pulling his clothes back on and immediately heading for the door.

  “No!” shouted Leigh. “Archer, if she finds out that I told you, she’ll hurt Riley!”

  “Leigh,” he said. “I’ll protect you and your sister. Trust me. I won’t let any harm come to the two of you.”

  It was a bold claim to make, but somehow, he knew that he’d stand by it, no matter what. It was easy now. He saw a path forward, and even if the details weren’t in focus yet, the picture was starting to come together.

  “She’ll kill you Archer.” Leigh stood up and walked over to him naked, taking his hand into hers.

  “No,” he said. “She won’t.”

  The city was quiet outside, and the pedestrians who were out seemed normal and unaffected. Archer headed through the citizen’s district and into the outskirts, drawing a baffled look from the guard at the gate as he headed outside.

  He found the warehouse where Leigh had taken him to meet with the realists easy enough. The lights were on inside, and Archer hesitated, waiting and watching from across the street instead of barging in without a plan.

  Through one of the windows, he could hear an animated discussion taking place. Emily was wearing a long, white robe, and she appeared to be giving a lecture or a sermon to a group of people. Archer recognized a few of them from the meeting Leigh had brought him to.

  There was someone else there, too. Someone Archer hadn’t been expecting to see, but recognized in an instant. It was the man they’d rescued from Syprus, cleaned up now, with different clothing.

  I wish I could hear what they’re saying. I need to know what’s going on here.

  Several minutes passed by, around half an hour in total. Most of the people in the warehouse left in a large group. Archer couldn’t tell if the Syprus survivor was among them with how tightly they were crowded together, but he could still see Emily, alone and inside.

  He waited until the group was out of sight, and then crossed the street. The door was unlocked, and he slipped in through it. Emily stood on the far side of the large room, writing something in a notebook she held in one hand.

  “What’s your game?” he said, voice loud and sharp.

  Emily flinched visibly, and Archer took a small amount of enjoyment in the way her expression shifted through several different reactions. She settled on a small, confident smile and closed her notebook.

  “I’m surprised that she told you,” said Emily. “Leigh is dedicated to her sister. I assumed that she’d find a way to do it, despite her hesitation at the request when I initially made it.”

  “You won’t be touching her sister,” said Archer. “That much goes without saying. I came here for answers. You don’t arrange an assassination without having some kind of plan that it fits into.”

  Emily sighed. She started walking across the floor toward him. Archer kept his eyes on her hands, ready to dodge if she made any fast movements.

  “The plan is the future,” said Emily. “Of all humanity. The plan is freedom. The plan is for us to leave our cage, and finally mak
e the pilgrimage to the Promised Land.”

  Archer stared at her.

  “Have you completely lost touch with reality?” he asked. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about. I’ve been outside Tempus, recently. There is no promised land waiting for you and your cult, Emily.”

  “We haven’t found it yet,” she said, slowly. “But it is out there, in some form. Perhaps it isn’t a physical place. Possibly, it might not even be accessible to us, in our current forms.”

  “You call yourselves the realists,” he said. “It’s like some kind of sick joke.”

  Her smile widened, and something dangerous flashed in her eyes.

  “You saw Syprus,” she said. “You know that we aren’t joking.”

  …What?

  “I wanted you indisposed tonight,” said Emily. “I wanted Leigh to kill you, but if she couldn’t manage that much, I wanted her to give her body to you, and distract you for the night. And at least in that, she managed to fulfill her duty.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  Emily just smiled at him. Archer gritted his teeth and took a step toward her, but before he could go any further, the sound of a massive explosion echoed through the room, along with a shockwave powerful enough to shatter all of the warehouses windows.

  CHAPTER 40

  Archer stood up and assessed the damage. Exploding glass from the nearest window had opened small cuts on his forehead and chin. His ears were ringing, and he felt a little shaky, but beyond that, he was okay. Emily looked ecstatic, the notebook held tight in front of her breasts, her eyes wide with the empty, passionate expression of religious fervor.

  “What have you done?” he shouted, as much to hear his own voice as to express his anger.

  “Fertilizer from the underground farms,” said Emily. “It was almost too easy for us to collect what we needed. Doing the math to work out how much it would take took longer than building the bomb.”

  “You…” Archer stared at her, shaking his head. “You’re insane.”

  “I’ve opened the doorway,” said Emily. “And you helped me.”

  “I didn’t help you with anything!”

  “You brought Julius back,” said Emily. “One of those tasked with carrying the message of Syprus forward. We were waiting for him, and now that he’s here, we can leave, and face our destiny together.”

  The strange man that survived the carnage in Syprus… He was one of the realist terrorists?

  It took all of Archer’s willpower to keep from striking out at her. People were already screaming and panicking outside, and he knew that the chaos would get worse before it got better. He had a job to do, and the lives of an entire city depended on him doing it to the very best of his ability.

  He saw the explosion’s damage as soon as he stepped outside the warehouse. An entire fifty foot section of the outer wall had been demolished, along with at least five or six dozen of the buildings nearest to the sight of the explosion. Archer was half a mile away from the scene, at least, and a shocking amount of destruction lay around him.

  How many people did she just kill? Innocent smogs, born too close to the wall, killed for no reason.

  He suppressed cold rage and started running, desperate to make it to the North Compound, to the only thing that would let him defend against the fabricants that would be drawn to the city’s vulnerability. Everybody around him was running, parents carrying injured children, people desperately shouting out the names of loved ones. There were people looting, breaking into grocers, storage facilities, grabbing whatever they thought they needed.

  There was only one guard at the gate, and he was numb with shock. He waved Archer through without question. The citizen’s district had kept a modicum of calm, but people were still on the streets, scared and curious over the explosion.

  It felt like it took an eternity to reach the North Compound, and when Archer finally did, he immediately went down the elevator. The armory was dimly lit, but full of activity. Archer saw Overseer Tensmoth and Vivian at the head of it.

  “The wall!” he shouted. “There’s a hole in the outer wall! I need to get out there!”

  Nobody said anything. Archer was already moving across the floor, heading toward his undersuit in his locker. Tensmoth moved as though to intercept him on the way.

  “What are you talking about?” barked the Overseer. “That’s impossible!”

  “That’s reality,” said Archer. “Vivian, can you head out with me?”

  Vivian had a similarly shocked look on her face, but it was clear that her mind was turning over possibilities in her head.

  “They’re still repairing the damage to my armor skin after the last fight,” she said. “One of the leg joints is bad, I wouldn’t be able to move in it.”

  “Fine,” said Archer. “Just… handle logistics, then. Over the communications system.”

  “I give the orders here!” boomed Overseer Tensmoth. He balled his hands into fists, standing squarely in front of the door Archer needed to go through.

  The feeling is mutual. I want to punch him in the face.

  “You’ve already done enough,” said Archer. “We need Ada now more than ever, and you fucking fired her. Now get out of my way and let me do my job!”

  The look the Overseer gave him in return was icy cold.

  “I won’t forget this,” whispered Tensmoth.

  “You’ll be lucky if you live to remember it,” said Archer. He pushed forward, his shoulder banging against the Overseer’s as he passed.

  Archer pulled on his undersuit in record time and then sprinted back out to his armor skin. He climbed into it, watching the familiar diagnostic information flash across the view screen. Part of him expected Trevor to be there, waiting for him, but he wasn’t. A different part of him was disappointed by that.

  “Are you going out through one of the release tunnels?” asked Vivian. “I can ready one that would-”

  “There’s no point,” said Archer. “The wall is compromised. I need to make sure the city is secure, anyway.”

  He bolted across the armory, watching the techs clamor to get out of his way. The elevator took what felt like eons to reach ground level, but once he was there, Archer took off at a dead sprint.

  Each of his long, leaping steps carried him easily three times the distance he would have gone unaided. He was careful, avoiding the people in the streets, but he didn’t need to be after the first minute. People could hear him coming, the heavy hydraulic clanking of his metal feet against concrete. People stood and watched in awe, knowing that him being in his armor skin, in the city, meant that the threat was real.

  The gate leading out into the coal district was already open, which Archer knew was a bad sign. A group of Watchers was holding off a small mob of smogs, desperate to get away from the compromised section of the city.

  “One of them is through the wall!” shrieked a woman. “It will kill us!”

  “Get back!” snapped the Watcher. “We will shoot if you don’t get back!”

  Archer set a metal gauntleted hand on the man’s shoulder and gave a small squeeze that would probably leave a bruise.

  “Let them through,” he said.

  The Watcher glanced from Archer, to the people, and then back to Archer, tall and dark and menacing in his armor skin.

  “But… they’re smogs?” he said, confused.

  “They’re people,” said Archer. “You let them through, or I’ll break your arms, and let them through myself.”

  The Watcher nodded and gestured to the others in his group. They backed away, and about a hundred people from the coal district walked through the gates into the citizen’s district, probably for the first time in their lives.

  Archer didn’t have time for any more distractions. He sprinted through the streets of the coal district, which was now descending into complete chaos. The only people left out in the streets were looting, fighting with one another, or preparing suicide attacks against the appro
aching fabricant with grim determination.

  The fabricant wasn’t a big one, smaller than the one he’d faced with Bart and Vivian in his first battle. It had the same humanoid torso with the scorpion body, and it moved down the street slowly, skewering the people that it came into contact with.

  Archer looked past it toward the hole in the wall. Nothing else was heading in through it, at least not yet. If he could deal with the fabricant in the city, and then find a way to block off the opening, perhaps they would stand a chance.

  It’s my only hope. I just need to move fast and hope for the best.

  He reached around to his back and pulled loose his Frequency Claymore. It hummed with energy, and felt good in his hands. The fabricant was facing the other direction as he approached. Archer leapt the last few feet toward, swinging his sword in a downward, killing arc.

  He’d forgotten about the fabricant’s fingers. They came out of the tail just as he moved in close to it, swarming his view screen and spoiling his vision. Archer’s attack went wide by about a foot, and he stumbled as he landed, within range of the fabricant.

  A heavy leg slammed into his chest, knocking him back hard enough to throw him through a nearby building. It was painful, but he was saved by the armor skin’s durability.

  Staggering back out into the street, Archer saw what the fingers could do to an unarmored opponent. The cloud of tiny nanobots swept down on a fleeing civilian, stripping all of the clothing and flesh from their body. A pile of blackened bones fell to the ground, some of them shattering into ash as they hit.

  The fabricant had turned its attention toward a small group of women, children, and elderly, all of whom had made the mistake of heading down an alleyway without exit. Archer let out a roar and threw himself in the way, blocking the fingers with his body, feeling tiny, painful electrical surges pulsing through him.