The Unfinished World (The Armor of God Book 2)

by Diego Valenzuela

  How could Zenith get their hands on a Fleck they could subdue and bring into the facility, alive, in the first place? It was not something easily hidden that could be walked through the door without any notice.

  She felt stupid for not knowing. After all, she had easily figured out the big lie they were told about the Creux’s size, the one Ezra had to discover the hard way. She had also found conclusive proof that the explosion that killed Alice Nolan had been sabotage from within.

  There were no plots she couldn’t discover if she put her mind to it.

  Vivian wouldn’t have to remain in a cage of her own dark speculation for much longer. After angrily excusing herself, leaving Tessa alone in the dining hall, she went to the dormitories. She knocked on the door to Nebula 09’s room, but only Jed was there, face still half covered in damp bandages and still in pain. Not even he knew where Rebecca had gone.

  The solitude of her own room was the only place where she found a small form of peace, but that didn’t last long. After half an hour of quiet meditation in her bed, she was awoken by a series of firm knocks on the dormitory door.

  It was General Adams who stood at the other side of the door. Every single member of the Zenith staff, no matter their rank or position, was being summoned to the grand lecture hall, where they would watch a live feed of Governor Heath’s conference.

  “I’m still not hopeful,” the general said, leading her and Jed to the central wing. “But if there’s any chance of winning this vote, it will depend on what he knows, and what he says. This is his last appeal to the citizens, so let’s hope it’s not hot.”

  When she finally reached the grand lecture hall, the conference was already being screened, and all the remaining employees of Zenith were in attendance. She was sad to see that many were already gone.

  “Viv!” she heard Tessa whisper. She was waving at her, inviting Vivian to take a seat next to her. She was reluctant, but tried to remind herself that, though there was a definite strangeness in her recent behavior, Tessa was still a hero. She sat next to her to watch the man address the city.

  “—Number two: the amount of material used to rebuild their own facility just in the last three months of accidents and careless mishaps, not to mention the actual dome that’s protecting us, reduced our reserves by 20 percent,” said Governor Heath in venomous words, and the sounds of a livid crowd boomed through the speakers.

  The citizens’ reaction didn’t make sense to her; why were people angry about using material for the very specific purpose it was gathered and created?

  She understood it was all in how the words were spoken; Heath knew how to control the people through masterful use of inflection and rhetoric—he was quite literally forcing them to be angry, even when they had no reason to be.

  Vivian felt his stomach sink when the screen displayed the image of Director Blanchard sitting behind him, her face a mask of stone, unruffled by the hate directed towards her.

  “Dammit. This isn’t good,” she heard Felix Goodwin say. The pilot of Iron Seraphim, with whom she had only shared a handful of operations, sat in front of her, biting his nails like a nervous child.

  “Number three,” Heath continued.

  It went on for too long, and with every fresh attack against Zenith and its directors, Vivian grew desperate. Nothing being said seemed like substantial arguments to her, and maybe they weren’t meant to be, but they were having the desired effect: the citizens were growing resentful and angry, stupidly swayed into being mad at an imaginary monster that was in reality fighting for their lives.

  “Number eight—and you’ll appreciate this one. The directors in Zenith lied to me, and to you, about their Creux units,” the man said, and couldn’t even pronounce the word correctly. “The agreed-upon destruction of the unit known as Minotaur, which you saw destroy part of the city with your own eyes, was entirely fabricated.”

  The image of the melted-down Equivalency Suit, the result of Vivian’s own plans to save Besoe Nandi from being destroyed, appeared on the screen. The perspective with which the photo was taken made its real size clear.

  The sweat that rolled down the side of her face was cold.

  Then, she heard angry screams from the crowd, and angrier words among the people watching in the hall. Felix turned around towards Tessa. “I’m glad you killed that bitch Covington,” he said with a cold fury that stunned Vivian.

  The battle was already lost, but Heath was not quite done yet. Intermittent shots of Director Blanchard showed the woman slowly giving up her façade of calm; it broke Vivian’s heart.

  “Number nine: about a project known within Zenith as ‘Subject Edward.’ The scientific research team decided that the most efficient way to study the Laani virus is by deliberately infecting citizens.”

  All hell broke loose. People got up in anger, yelled profanities at the screen. The normally calm Jed Townsend forced them to settle down with one firm, commanding roar that took everyone by surprise. It wasn’t until order was restored that they could hear the rest of the address.

  Vivian shook her head, trying to process what she had just heard. Was Subject Edward really the result of the deliberate infection of a citizen? She looked back at Dr. Mizrahi, and the shame she saw in her eyes was authentic. The reaction in the room made it clear that this was something kept even from the most seasoned pilots.

  So how did Tessa know?

  “Number ten: about the director of Zenith, Tara Blanchard herself,” hissed Governor Heath.

  Vivian didn’t want to listen. She didn’t want to know anymore.

  She didn’t want to lose faith in the director. In Zenith.

  “She’s considered an outstanding member of this society, as her family has been for many generations. Yet, not only did she know, and approve, of everything I’ve shared with you tonight, she’s also been responsible for the deaths and cover-up of dozens of citizens and military personnel, all in the name of Zenith. Out of respect for the victims, I will not reveal their names now, but I will make this information available through the Roue Armed Forces. If a loved one has been missing, or disappeared under suspicious circumstances, please visit Base 1A.”

  The camera had focused on Director Blanchard for this last part, and Vivian could see the exact moment of defeat; the woman closed her eyes, turned her face away from the camera, and gracefully wiped small tears.

  Vivian was glad Ezra Blanchard was not there to see it.

  The camera, and the eyes of everyone watching, remained on the director, and she took it as a cue to speak up. For the first time ever, Vivian could see anger in her, and frustration. She walked, her chin up, toward the podium, branded with the emblem of Roue.

  “I’m trying to do my part, but you,” she said, injecting venom into the plural, “—are making it harder and harder to save you.”

  She walked away, out of frame.

  Governor Heath was smiling, and for one split second, Vivian thought she saw Tessa do the same.

  ф

  On the remainder of their journey towards Kerek, Phoenix Atlas led them dragging her feet. Ezra knew Erin would rather be back inside Lazarus and not Phoenix, a Creux she had often complained about; having to leave behind something as powerful as that Creux took a toll on her determination, and it showed.

  Ezra wanted to ask her about what he had overheard of their conversation. Was Erin really expecting a son or daughter? Respecting their secrecy would prove difficult, but he knew he had no business interfering in what little privacy his friends still had.

  Something doesn’t smell right, said Nandi, a voice he had once more grown to associate with the monstrous. Where have you been? What did you find? What changed?

  We found someone. Someone like you.

  She wants it back, he purred. I know it.

  Yes, she does, thought Ezra in reply; it was the first time in days he had engaged in conversation with Nandi. He had to fight his urge to converse with his one inseparable companion; he no longer trusted the
Minotaur’s influence in him. Nandi. Who is Lazarus?

  I don’t know. He must have changed after me. I remember your friends, most of your friends, I remember them.

  Ezra clenched Nandi’s fists, frustrated, and kept walking.

  They had assumed a safe and conservative V formation to traverse the remains of the desert towards the peak, where the remains of Kerek waited for them. Jade Arjuna, blessed with superior vision, walked in the front scanning for any potential threats. Behind her, to either side, walked Nandi and Phoenix. Ares’ massive bulk covered their backs.

  Every now and then, whenever the opportunity presented itself in the shape of a target of any sort—a large stone, an off-colored spot on the side of a mountain, or even the rarely seen solitary Carrier, separated from its Flash—Jena would hone her skills with Jade’s power. She’d thrust her Creux’s left arm forward, collapsing the ends of a bow, before drawing back her right, thus creating, with the motion, an arc and a shaft of light: an arrow.

  Though she was still far from a perfect shot, her abilities had improved immensely. She had become gracious and quick; all she needed was to maintain that grace and quickness in battle, where Ezra could tell she would sometimes panic—this was the reason why he was still uncomfortable at letting her shoot through Nandi’s horns to amplify her arrows’ strength; he knew it wouldn’t hurt him, but he wasn’t sure about the possibility of pain, or how Nandi would take it.

  Ezra began trying to do the same, but the pulses of light that gathered between his horns and shot through its hands, though more powerful, had far less range; trying to shoot at the same targets Jena did was almost embarrassing, and he could hear Garros chuckle at his failed attempts. Ezra wondered if there were any secret ways to improve Nandi’s technomantic powers.

  There is.

  The group moved through the large wasteland. The peak was so big it gave him a mistaken impression of its distance, but both Erin and Jena had been sure it wouldn’t take much longer. He had no problem trusting their instincts.

  Tracks on the land, like the wake of something big dragging awkwardly shaped parts of its grotesque body along the dead ground, warned them of a possible threat.

  “I think I saw something moving beyond those hills,” said Garros, and they couldn’t communicate with Jena for confirmation. “It might have been nothing.”

  As they came closer and closer to their destination, the terrain changed so gradually it was almost unnoticeable. The dry desert land then changed into sandy dunes. Pieces of what could only be the crushed remains of man-made structures poked through the sand, and some were crushed under the Creuxen’s careless feet.

  Where am I now? Nandi asked. This doesn’t feel right.

  “Erin, are we okay in this sand?” asked Ezra, misunderstanding Nandi’s concerns.

  “Probably,” she said, and Phoenix stopped for a moment. “I never heard of sand messing with a Creux. Why do you ask?”

  When Nandi said nothing else, Ezra dismissed the matter as well.

  Then, after climbing up a particularly tall hill of treacherous terrain, they stopped to take a good look at their destination.

  It was the remains of the city of Kerek: crush and dust buried under sand in what used to be a basin about three-fourths the size of Roue. Not one single building stood anymore, as though the Laani had intentionally destroyed it, wanting to make sure not even its memory remained.

  Tens of thousands of lives lost to the disease, hundreds infected and changed, taken away to become a part of the cruel god Lys. It was a grim look into a future in which they failed.

  Beyond the city, not far from the far end of the basin, was the base of the peak they had seen from a distance. Clouds gathered and circled over its highest point: a thin rocky formation, like a deliberately crafted spire. He could feel a strange kind of energy, or power, coming from the spire.

  “The end of the world,” whispered Garros.

  The world ended long ago.

  A sudden loud roar made the remains of Kerek tremble; pieces of stone rolled down the sides of the steel basin, crashing into the destroyed buildings one body length beneath.

  Still lost in the depressing sight of stone and steel, he didn’t see Jade Arjuna draw her arm back. Her arrows were suddenly flying downward at invisible targets, making no noise in their immateriality.

  He hadn’t noticed it at all, but there was a Flash hiding in the ruins of the city, and when his mind finally prepared itself for a battle, it was already underway.

  But as Ezra moved down the basin to join Ares and Phoenix, he stopped so suddenly he almost sent the mass of Nandi rolling down. There was an even more unexpected sight than the Flash guarding Kerek.

  Even from Nandi’s height, he could see a different kind of movement amid the ruins: a young woman, a human being, looking up at the Minotaur as though there was no other danger in sight.

  Don’t fall for her lie, warned a voice, and he could no longer tell whose thoughts he was hearing.

  Chapter 7

  The Voices Speak

  Though Ezra had grown more confident in a fight, the battle that broke over the ruins of Kerek proved to be even more of a challenge than usual. Fighting in the Creux was already difficult for many reasons—from the trials of moving such a large form to the fear of being lost to bloodlust—but having to fight and protect someone while trying not to crush her under one’s huge feet was proving to be almost impossible.

  He had begun to doubt whether he had actually seen someone or not—it seemed impossible to think a human being could have wandered into these unprotected ruins, which hadn’t seen human life for decades. To Ezra’s eye, she appeared to be a girl, no older than Ezra himself, and it was like she was appearing and disappearing, coming in and out of Nandi’s sight.

  He finally saw her again, crouched behind a dead tree with bark as white as the ashes it shed. Her hands were on her ears, covering the deafening sounds of the battle—roaring monsters and machines, of earth being crushed and life extinguished.

  A canine-looking Trooper came too close to the ashen tree, and Ezra was quick enough to grab it by its thick, lizard-like tail. Nandi’s strength proved enough to pull it back towards him, away from the girl. With one quick, practiced motion, Ezra put Nandi’s hands around the creature’s head. It roared, furious, and snapped its jaws at Nandi.

  They’re monsters, just monsters. Nothing but monsters.

  Energy gathered in the space between the Minotaur’s horns.

  . . . nothing but monsters . . .

  He thrust his hands forward and the power burst through. He threw the Trooper’s body away, and blood splashed on the sand.

  They’re monsters they’re monsters just monsters . . . oh my god . . .

  It wasn’t easy. Even after all the psychological training that took place in Zenith without his noticing, killing something that might have once been a human being was not easy in any context.

  “Blanchard! What the hell are you doing over there?” called Erin’s voice.

  He looked ahead and saw Phoenix fighting a Trooper—a very big one—with several others surrounding her. Ares and Jade were busy, so he was forced to leave the girl to her own devices.

  Nandi rammed the Trooper like a charging bull, goring it with his horns and sending it crashing far away, dead or very hurt. He gave Phoenix his back to face the Troopers that surrounded them, and they engaged in a two-man attack. Nandi would send orbs of power to the sides, arms stretched as far as his armored shoulders allowed him, while Phoenix attacked in one of the many offensive forms she had perfected through the years.

  He had always wished to watch her fight as a spectator and not a teammate also involved in battle. Ezra was too busy commanding the Minotaur to see clearly, but it was always a spectacle. For all its communications problems, Phoenix Atlas was both fast and strong—bird-like in its grace. When she launched her technomantic power and created a bright shadow of herself, imitating her movements, it was like performance art
.

  With monsters and violence.

  Every chance he could, Ezra looked back at the area of the city where he had seen the girl to make sure no monster was near. No Carrier to infect her or Trooper to crush her.

  She’s doing it again! Nandi yelled, sounding strangely alarmed.

  He hadn’t noticed, but Jade had already positioned herself behind him. Ezra knew what it meant. He locked his arms in an L to avoid shooting, and began to make a pool of power in his horns.

  Jena shot, and enormous versions of Jade’s arrows flew through the dusty air to strike and kill.

  Nandi hated it, and a part of Ezra did too; it made him feel less like a fighter and more like a tool, but the results were hard to ignore—no Trooper could stand after two hits of Jade’s magnified arrows.

  Ezra could feel in his human neck the strain Jade was putting on Nandi’s, as she repositioned his head and horns like she was about to use them like a slingshot.

  Then, suddenly, there were no monsters hiding behind the clouds of dust and sand—only silent emptiness that made everything feel more desolate. There was always a feeling of guilt and sadness after a fight, but at least then there was some life around them. Seeing Kerek truly empty around them gave them a weighty sense of despair stronger than even the empty desert.

  There was a city here. It’s gone now.

  “What took you so long?” asked Garros, and he was angry. Though he couldn’t see it in Ares’ face, Ezra knew he was talking to him.

  “I saw—there’s someone in here. A girl. I was trying to protect her.”

  “A girl?”

  “Yes, a young girl. She was—,” Ezra started walking back to the spot where he had seen her—the ashen tree, the base of a destroyed building. He turned around to see Ares and Phoenix walking behind him. Jade Arjuna was not in sight.