Cloud Rebel: R-D 3

by Connie Suttle

  Still, there was no word from Ilya.

  Auggie and Matt were practically living at the White House-I hoped Granville had enough sense left to realize what a colossal mistake he'd made, but I wasn't counting on it.

  James was torn between wanting to go back to D.C. and staying as far from the troubles as he could. The U.N. had launched an investigation into the bombing, as well as the sarin-carrying drone strikes.

  They'd find exactly what the Lyristolyi wanted them to find.

  The villa was supposed to be ours-Ilya's and mine-filtered into my thoughts. I stood, a familiar cup of coffee in my hands, on the villa's terrace, gazing across the landscape. Houses and villas were strewn across the land, and in the distance, the town where we'd had our honeymoon dinner.

  Everything appeared so peaceful. Benign. Somewhere, not really that far away, people fought for their lives and died, victims of an invisible enemy known as radiation poisoning.

  Fuck Earth.

  That phrase returned to haunt me.

  Of course, many rallied to the defense of those responsible for the bombings-in their minds, it was justified retribution for the sarin gas killings.

  They merely had no idea that those they pointed at as responsible actually had nothing to do with either.

  Lies come back to haunt you. If it weren't so tragic, the fact that the insurgency accepted responsibility for the sarin attacks in the beginning was almost laughable.

  It was too late to admit the truth of it now-that they had no idea who was responsible.

  Frankly, too, alerting the media that aliens were in their midst and creating chaos on Earth would be met with skepticism and ridicule at this point. Everybody had a known enemy to blame, and was currently doing just that.

  Blaming.

  While it was something people usually did, the ramifications this time could destroy all of them, with or without help from the Lyristolyi.

  Sales of guns and rifles were skyrocketing, too, as if a bullet could stop sarin gas or a nuclear weapon. Or a plane or a tank or any one of a thousand other bigger, badder things.

  I cursed the drug, then, and those who'd created it. The foul substance was at the root of all these deaths and destruction.

  I understood, too, why the Lyristolyi wanted all of it gone.

  The drug could end up killing all of us, in one way or another.

  * * *

  Notes-Colonel Hunter

  Amelia Sander's funeral was postponed for a second time, due to the chaos after the Iraqi bombings. I worried that the former President would never get her just due, because Earth would be destroyed beforehand.

  Granville's aide ordered Matt and me into another meeting-one where Richard Farrell was also commanded to attend. Farrell knew Jennifer was missing. I feared not only his instability, but the President's as well.

  That's why I asked that Farrell be checked twice for any weapons before he was allowed into the meeting room.

  With a glare in my direction that could melt steel, Farrell strode into the meeting room, jerked a chair away from the table and sat before turning his angry gaze toward Matt.

  Matt pointedly ignored Farrell, as did Opal, who sat beside Matt. My cell phone was outside with the Secret Service, or I'd have called Cori on the spot. Perhaps she could defuse this situation-I was fresh out of tact at the moment.

  "Good morning," an aide announced as she walked into the room. I suppose it was then I noticed it was Laura Quimby-the real one and not Corinne in disguise. Two Secret Service stalked in on her heels, bringing us to our feet for the President's arrival.

  Granville looked even more haggard than the last time I'd seen him. At that point, I wished for Leo Shaw's presence-perhaps someone would listen to him as a licensed physician and psychiatrist.

  Whatever troubled Granville now, it didn't look good. A swift glance in Matt's direction showed me something I hadn't seen before-he looked pale. Beside him, Opal appeared ill.

  They knew something already.

  I merely waited to learn what it was before sinking farther into terror and depression than I ever thought possible.

  "We have video," Laura announced, and I noticed then that she looked queasy. "The President wants to show you this before discussing our next course of action."

  The following ten minutes proved to me that some things can always be worse than your most terrible imaginings.

  I will never forget Phillips' grinning face in that video, while he ordered an obsessed and subjugated Ilya to behead Jennifer. I couldn't keep my eyes open to watch the horror as her blood spattered everywhere.

  In the background, an unmistakable wolf howl sounded.

  Farrell went crazy, trying to get his hands on the President. Two Secret Service agents fired at the same time, while the video continued to play in the background. Farrell was dead, bleeding out on the carpet in a meeting room. Jennifer was already dead, her blood pooling on a tile floor somewhere in the past, the President was crazy and, in my mind, responsible for both deaths. As for Ilya-his eyes had been blank as he dutifully carried out Phillips' commands.

  * * *

  Corinne

  I think Auggie had to calm down before he called me. Still, he was upset when he spoke-as he should be.

  "We're pretty sure it was Rafe and not the doppelganger," Auggie's voice shook.

  "How?" Val took the phone away from my shaking hands.

  "We saw a hand of the camera operator," Auggie said. "Matt did everything he could to identify him from what we had. Turns out, Granville's trusted Agent-in-Charge wasn't so trustworthy. That, or he was obsessed early on and was following Phillips' commands."

  "I regret saving Granville's life," I said. The words sounded dead-foreign, even.

  "Cori, you can't second-guess everything," Auggie began, his voice sounding small and ineffective from such a distance.

  "Sure I can," I said. "Has any of this leaked to the media?" I realized I was trembling. I doubted we'd get Ilya back from this-and there was evidence he was guilty of murder, even if we could remove the obsession.

  "Not yet-Phillips doesn't want that, I don't think, although this is as sure a way as I know not to be invited back to the White House," Auggie replied.

  "Then why would he do it? Auggie, tell me," I stuttered.

  "Do you remember the real Phillips' plans, dearest?" Val turned to me. "Perhaps this one has his sights set on larger things after all."

  "The U.N. is calling for Russia to prove that all their stockpiled nuclear weapons are accounted for," Auggie said. "According to the most recent treaty."

  "And since the U.N. was never notified that some of those weapons were handed over to insurgents," my lips felt numb as I said the words.

  "Exactly. The remnants of the insurgency are already issuing death threats against Russia," Auggie confirmed. "For killing their country with nuclear weapons."

  "They were doing a good enough job on their own," I whispered. "Are they complaining, now that somebody else did the job for them?" Yes, I was scrambling-mentally and verbally-to keep from Looking to glean the images from Auggie's brain. Images that showed Ilya-my Ilya-doing a terrible, terrible thing.

  What would he be commanded to do next?

  Who would he be told to betray?

  Would Phillips understand enough to know I meant him harm if Ilya revealed the Larentii to him?

  Once, on the Larentii homeworld, the Sirenali had attempted to bend Larentii to their will.

  Would another Sirenali, without the benefit of knowing that history, attempt to do the same thing? Would Phillips' clone do blackmail, or offer things he didn't intend to give, in order to control a Larentii?

  "Some things are worse than death," I said aloud.

  "What?" Auggie strained to hear what I'd said, since I no longer held the cell phone.

  "Colonel Hunter, we will be there in a moment," Val said and ended the call.

  * * *

  High Council Meeting

  Larentii Ho
meworld

  Breanne

  "Now we see why Larentii do not interfere," one stood and spoke.

  "Yet the Wise Ones are here, and they say to stay the course," Kalenegar responded. It surprised me that he'd listened to the Wise Ones in this matter. His father, Ferrigar, would have blown them off as he often did.

  Turning my head, I studied the five Larentii in question. All were resolute in this-as was I. A part remained to be played and as sad as it could be, it would likely prove necessary.

  Too many outcomes depended on it. Outcomes that had already happened once, but as these events were taking place in our past, it could affect our present as well as our future.

  Even as we stood here, discussing it.

  Stephen Hawking said, "The past, like the future, is indefinite and exists only as a spectrum of possibilities." He was right.

  Only one here knew of my presence-Kalenegar. The others-it was best they didn't know. Kal and I-we'd already had a discussion, and at the end included Nefrigar and Valegar.

  Too many things were uncertain, and Kal's word would be final in the matter. I was merely present to see what the others had to say.

  I wanted to sigh, too, for the hard, hard road that lay ahead. Not just for us, but for others.

  Six months had passed since Wisdom had approached me to make his suggestion.

  Yes, many of those gods already dead in our current existence had left their own version of landmines behind, to trip us up. I suspected the drug was a part of that, in addition to other, less obvious things.

  Wisdom had pointed to one such. I'd been surprised by his suggestion, yet saw the sense in it before long. Little did I know, then, how it would become intertwined with our current dilemma.

  Together, he and I-Wisdom and Love-had exerted our power.

  What had been designed to destroy now held a desire for the opposite. We couldn't erase the rogue god's influence from the whole of the intended weapon, but we'd neutralized as much as we could.

  That made me smile. Wisdom and I-we'd laid claim to it. It was ours. We would protect it as much as we could, but it had become its own, guided by its own sensibilities. Yes, we felt a bit of pride from our efforts.

  I merely wanted everything else to turn out as well.

  I no longer knew if that were possible.

  "We cannot destroy the Lyristolyi," another Larentii spoke. "It violates everything we do and have done as a race to even consider it."

  * * *

  Corinne

  He's gone. Those two words whirled continuously through my mind as we landed in Auggie's office and I saw what Auggie had seen in Ilya's face.

  No, Ilya wasn't dead. Not physically. I saw the look in his eyes, though, courtesy of Auggie's memory. Inside, Ilya was gone. I couldn't read what he'd been obsessed to do, and likely the original obsession to destroy me had manifested again.

  Perhaps it was similar to fictional characters learning that the one they loved had been taken over by a monster, or had become a zombie.

  Either way, the result was the same.

  Either way, that one was essentially dead.

  Val attempted to massage my neck. I moved away from him. Panic threatened to overwhelm me for a moment as the image of Jen's death settled in my brain. A useless, pointless death.

  Phillips merely wanted to stretch his credibility. He understood how much he could influence the current President by showing how he could command anyone to do anything.

  Since he was Sirenali, there wasn't any way the strongest and most talented among us could find him, either, unless we found a way to track him by mundane means.

  "We took bloodhounds to the site," Auggie said as if reading my mind. "Phillips and company didn't leave in any of the usual ways," he added.

  "Because Ilya can now fold space," I muttered. I'd thought to protect him. I'd done pretty much the opposite. By handing a powerful weapon to a Phillips clone, he now appeared to be on track to become as bad as the original.

  Ilya is gone, ran through my head again. I should have pulled him away when Granville started down this mad path. Jen and Brett, too. Jen was dead. Ilya as good as. Brett-who knew what they'd tell him to do, or whether they'd just kill him out of hand and be done with it.

  Farrell-also dead. Norian Keef and Lendill Schaff, both dead. Hundreds of thousands dead across the globe, thanks to some interfering Lyristolyi.

  Fuck Earth.

  "I need some time," I said, fighting panic yet again. "In the Archives. Will your father mind?" I turned to Val.

  "He will not mind, dearest," Val said gently.

  "Good." I bent time and folded space, traveling to the Archives of the future without waiting for Val.

  * * *

  In the Archives is a section that only a few have ever visited. Most don't realize it exists.

  I'd found it during my yearlong stay, waiting for Kalenegar of the Larentii to decide my fate.

  Perhaps my fate had already been decided, I just didn't realize it at the time.

  I studied the bodies-three of them-that lay on stone slabs in this hidden portion of the Archives.

  These weren't real-doppelgangers, perhaps, but certainly not the originals.

  These replicas of the Three-Strength, Wisdom and Love, lay as if ready to awaken at any moment. They'd served a purpose once, and like all things in the Archives, they'd been kept, pristine and without decay, in these positions.

  Strength was quite tall, with light-brown hair and a beautiful, ageless face. Wisdom was slightly shorter, with dark hair and more than handsome features.

  Love was the only female, with dark hair and a pale, lovely complexion. This was how they'd look if they were to appear-those who'd defeated the enemy during the God Wars, in order to save the universes from chaos and death.

  With the events happening on Earth in the past, that victory was threatened. For a moment, my vision wavered and I witnessed a change-as if the Three in reality lay before me instead of their replicas.

  I had to think on this.

  Ilya was gone.

  Fuck Earth.

  * * *

  Captain Brett Walker

  As long as I remained wolf, they couldn't work their mojo on me. I'd attacked them twice, and managed to rip an arm off one of them.

  It didn't matter-they'd ordered Rafe to kill Jen and I wasn't going to let them get away with that. They'd have to kill me first.

  They'd already shot me twice. I howled at them in return. They learned not to come into the room where I was; I finally killed one of the fuckers.

  Instead, they had something new up their sleeves. If I wasn't going to behave and do as they ordered, they'd just send me elsewhere.

  I yelped when I hit the floor inside the Oval Office. If one of the Secret Service agents hadn't stopped his buddies from firing, I'd have died immediately.

  My consciousness fled before I could consider turning human.

  * * *

  Notes-Colonel Hunter

  "So we're depending on a veterinarian to save his life?" Opal and Matt had shown up unannounced at my office to let me know that Brett had been dumped-in werewolf form-in the oval office.

  Not only had he been shot twice, but there was evidence that he'd attacked some of his attackers.

  I was grateful he was still alive, wolf or not. The President had called Matt, shouting gibberish after Brett's sudden appearance. Matt had gone to the White House immediately.

  I still hadn't figured out how he'd gotten Brett out of there so fast.

  We needed Farrell, but he was just as dead that afternoon as he'd been that morning.

  "Screw that, we need Cori," I muttered.

  "Corinne is unavailable," Valegar appeared inside my office. "I will heal Captain Walker for you, in her stead."

  "Where is she?" I asked.

  "She is thinking and cannot be disturbed. We should have considered her role as Vhanaraszh all along, instead of keeping her away from those things." Val's eyes carried sadness
, and I couldn't say particularly why that was.

  "What's that?" I said.

  "We must tend to Captain Walker," Val brushed away my question and transported us to the animal hospital where Brett's wolf was being tended.

  * * *

  "Do you know where you were?" Matt asked when Brett woke. He lay on a hospital bed inside the ugly building in Arlington. Val had effected the change from wolf to human before healing Brett of his wounds.

  "Hmmph," Brett snorted and named an Asian country I'd suspected all along. "I guess they think I don't recognize it when somebody speaks the language."

  "Phillips is calling in his favors," Opal muttered from her seat nearby. "Toss a few crown jewels in somebody's direction and Bob's your uncle."

  I'd forgotten about those, to be honest. Somebody hadn't forgotten, though.

  "Tell me what happened with Rafe," Matt said.

  "Agent Smith," Brett growled. "He was leading us in, his rifle in his hand, when he turned back. I thought he was going to tell us something. Instead, he knocks Rafe out with the butt of his rifle and his agents have their guns trained on Jen and me immediately. They forced us into Phillips' house, two of Smith's agents dragging Rafe between them. Phillips and several others were there waiting for us. They knew we were coming."

  "Fuck," I wiped a hand across my face. Rafe had gone to protect Jen and Brett. Instead, he'd ended up killing Jen.

  "The minute Rafe woke, Phillips was there, telling him he'd only do what he said from now on. It was uncanny how fast it happened. His eyes just went dead-as if he wasn't who he was anymore. When he killed-Jen, I knew it for certain."

  "Did you see the other one-Rafe's doppelganger?" Opal asked.

  "Dead-at least two days, if my nose was correct. Shot multiple times, as near as I could tell. Looked like he'd gone nuts and tried to destroy everything around him before it happened," Brett shook his head.

  "So they were desperate to get their hands on Rafe," Matt sighed. "As a replacement. The other one went animal on them and they couldn't control him any longer."

  "Has anyone told Katya-about her father?" Opal asked.

  "I don't think so," I said. "This will kill her."

  "Maybe she shouldn't know-it's not his fault. It isn't him anymore," Brett said and stared at his hands. "It happened so fast-nobody expected Smith to turn on us like that."