Sibylla of Earth

by A. D. Baldwin

  Williams’s jaw clenched, and Sibylla realized that she’d gone too far.

  “What I mean is, I can handle myself.”

  Williams sighed in frustration. “I’m sure you can. But obviously your life matters to someone at the brass level, so I don’t want to be the bug that gets squashed when this psycho cuts your head off.”

  Sibylla glanced at the prisoner, eyeing him carefully. “Let me worry about that,” she said.

  “And who’s going to worry ‘bout me?”

  “I will,” she promised.

  He scoffed. “You ain’t got no pull.”

  “And yet, for some strange reason, all of you are here...for me.”

  He paused. As tough as a man as the instructor was, he was still a disciplined soldier, a being that followed orders and asked no questions. “If I let this go on, I can’t guarantee he won’t kill you.”

  Sibylla looked back at him. He was touching his neck, feeling the skin beneath his collar. But he showed no sign of pain, no deep grimace, just a look of solemn acceptance.

  “I’ll be fine,” she assured.

  “Alright,” Williams said. “It’s your ass. You do with it what you want.”

  Sibylla followed the instructor as he marched back to the prisoner. “We’re gonna try this again,” Williams told him. “But if you get out of hand, there’s nothing she can do that’ll save your ass. You feel me?”

  The young man’s gaze shifted to where Williams’s boots were, and for a moment, Sibylla worried that he might attack him. But as his gaze lowered to the matted floor and he stayed silent, Sibylla let out a breath of relief.

  “Okay,” Williams said, turning back to Sibylla. “He’s all yours.”

  Williams ordered his troops to fall back. They lined up against the walls with raised rifles, keeping the prisoner in their sights. Their presence was disconcerting. But maybe, with them out of sight, the prisoner would relax a little.

  “Are you hungry?” Sibylla asked, tilting her head to the side as if speaking to a frightened dog in the street. “I’ve got more.” She reached for the chicken strips in her bag and held one out for him to take.

  He eyed the food with a look excitement, then paused as he seemed to remember the soldiers standing guard behind him.

  “It’s okay,” she assured. “They’re not going to hurt you. I promise.”

  With a careful hand, he reached for the strip, and Sibylla felt the trembling tips of his fingers. His bites were slow at first, tired chews that hinted at deep exhaustion. But after a while, his ravenousness returned with a fury, and he began eating much faster.

  Sibylla smiled. “It’s good, isn’t it?” Watching him eat made her feel better and after a few seconds, she decided to sit down, lowering before him and crossing her legs. “I haven’t eaten meat in years. Not since I was a kid.”

  He gave no response.

  “I was worried that it was going to taste funny at first,” she continued. “But now, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

  As he finished the last of it, he began to suck his fingers, cleaning away the grease from his skin.

  “I have more if you want?”

  He eyed her closely.

  “Here.” She shoved the bag across the matted floor, and he yanked it open, scooping out the last of the food and shoving it into his mouth.

  “Sorry ‘bout the mess, though,” she apologized. “I was kind of in a hurry, and the Eagles aren’t very understanding if you’re late.”

  He glanced at her for a moment, then stuffed one of the strips into his mouth, his gaze lowering back to the bag before him.

  With black hair, white skin and blue eyes, he was exceptionally handsome, and it suddenly made her self-conscious. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she fought to think of something else to say.

  “So…what part of Russia are you from?” she asked. “I’m from El Paso. It’s in Texas. Have you ever heard of it?” When he didn’t answer, she continued. “It’s not the biggest place, but it’s—”

  “What do you want of me?” he finally grumbled.

  She was taken aback by his tone, but quickly regained herself. “I want you to train me.”

  He studied her for a moment, then returned to eating. “No.”

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “Because you are too small. Besides, I have better things to do with my time.” He kicked the bag toward her, and she saw that he’d eaten all the food, leaving the bag completely clean.

  “Now,” he said, rising to his feet and turning to the Eagles behind him. “Take me back to my cell.”

  Sibylla jumped to her feet. “I just saved your life.”

  “Yes, and provided me with cold meat and sloppy potatoes, which were not very good by the way.”

  “I can’t believe this,” Sibylla said. “You’re just going to leave now?”

  He nodded.

  “Can’t you just give me a chance?”

  “I already have.”

  “And when was that? When I saved your life? When I gave you food?”

  “Yes,” he said. “All of that.”

  “But I don’t understand.”

  He shook his head. “You are too merciful to your enemies and too trusting of strangers.” He turned to the Eagles and raised his hands in a lazy surrender.

  “I can learn,” Sibylla called after.

  “Dogs can learn. Fighters are born.”

  “Wow,” Sibylla remarked in disbelief. “You’re real jerk.”

  “That is better. But not enough.”

  He was already approaching the Eagles, his hands lowering behind his back for them to be cuffed, when Sibylla yelled out, “Wait!”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Because,” she said, “I’ll do anything you want. Just please, help me.”

  He glanced over his shoulder, his beautiful blue eyes lighting with mischief as he examined her body from head to toe. With a captivating grin, he said, “Anything?”

  * * *

  They stood in the middle of the dome under the watch of guards, she holding her blade at the ready, he scratching his beard in boredom.

  “What’s your name?” Sibylla asked.

  “Why?”

  “Because, if you’re going to train me, I figure I should know what to call you.”

  “Who says I’m going to train you?”

  “So, this is another test?”

  “Yes. One you are already failing. Now, show me your stance.”

  Despite her tiredness, Sibylla did her best to recreate a fighter’s pose. It was a clumsy version of the one that she’d learned earlier in the day from a female instructor who insulted more than she taught. Raising her blade, she steadied it out before her.

  “And what is this?” he asked, baffled.

  “It’s my fighter’s stance,” Sibylla said defensively.

  “I see.” He arched a brow. “Impressive.”

  Sibylla was about to say something when she suddenly felt something hit her grip. The blade lifted into the air, and she watched as it fell end over end, finally landing deftly in his grasp.

  In the background, she heard the sound of rifles cocking, but she quickly raised a hand to steady them.

  “How’d you do that?” Sibylla asked, glaring at the empty space in her palm.

  “You are slow,” he murmured. With a squinted eye, he examined the tip of the blade and frowned. “Like old man.”

  “Thanks,” Sibylla said. “Now give it back to me.” She reached out to take the blade from him, but at the last moment, he snapped it back, causing her to lose her balance, and she fell to the floor.

  “And Clumsy,” he added.

  Sibylla shot to her feet, eyeing him in anger as she blew the loose strands of hair from her face. “What the fuck, bro?”

  “You have a fighter’s spirit,” he said. “But you are not a warrior. So, tell me. Why are you here?”

  “Because I need to survive.”

  “For what?”

 
“It’s none of your business.”

  “Fine,” he said with a shrug. “I will leave then.”

  “Okay,” Sibylla said. “I…have somebody.”

  “Who?”

  “A friend.”

  “Ah, loyalty. That is a good trait. One that will get you killed.”

  “Don’t you have friends?”

  “Friends are liabilities.”

  “Wow,” Sibylla said. “You must be really fun at parties. Now, are you going to train me or not?”

  Without a word, he slid in behind her, and she felt the weight of his arms pressing against hers as he lead her into what she assumed to be a choreographed sword pattern. He was strong, coordinated. And she was quickly swept away by his embrace, marveling at the smoothness of his control.

  “Tell me,” he whispered, his voice warm in her ear. “You live on the base, yes?”

  Sibylla nodded, her gaze turning to Williams who was watching them from the other side of the dome.

  “Is it big?” he asked.

  “You've never seen it?” Sibylla replied.

  “No. But I’ve imagined it. What does it look like?”

  “Mountains, mostly. And forests…covered in snow.”

  “Snow?” The amazement in his voice caught her off guard, and she realized that it must’ve been some time since he’d last seen it. Being from Russia, he probably missed it more than anything.

  He nodded sternly as he took in the information and it was then that she realized what it was that he was after.

  “You want to escape,” she whispered.

  His grip tightened around her wrists, and she heard the threat in his voice. “I could snap you in two,” he warned. “It would be easier than taking breath.”

  Sibylla grimaced from the pain, and one of the Eagles seemed to notice. He craned his neck, took a step forward, then paused as he listened closer.

  “If you kill me, I won’t be able to give you the information you need,” Sibylla whispered.

  His grip loosened. “What are you talking about?”

  “I can help you.”

  “And why would you do that?”

  “Because I want to leave as well.”

  “No,” he said. “You would just be in the way.”

  At that moment, Sibylla dropped to a squat, slipping out of his embrace and spinning around to face him. He raised a brow at her, impressed.

  “I’m not as clumsy as you think I am, especially when it comes to escaping.”

  He gripped her by the wrist and tugged her back into his body, his lips settling into a straight line. “Why should I believe you?”

  “Because I’m your only chance. This place is a fortress.”

  “I’ve broken out of fortresses before.”

  “Not like this one,” Sibylla said. “There are cameras everywhere. Plus, the A.I.s can scan your body from feet away. You’d have a better chance at sprouting wings.”

  He looked at her. “I’m still waiting for you to convince me.”

  Sibylla lowered her gaze as she thought. What would it take to convince him? How could she prove that she was worth taking along? Quirking her lips to the side, she nodded.

  “What if I told you where they’re keeping you?”

  He snorted. “Impossible.”

  “Try me.”

  He glared down at her in suspicion, the sharpness of his nose and jaw coming into full view. They were perfect. “Very well then, tell me.”

  Sibylla took a moment. The base was large, and with him being blindfolded there wasn’t much he could tell her. “When they came for you, did you walk for very long?”

  “Twenty paces.”

  “Hmm,” Sibylla said. And I thought I was the only one who counted their steps.

  That was a short distance. But as she thought back to the day before, she remembered that there was a curvature to the sides of the facility, almost a flattening that pressed down on the rest of the building, leaving little room for anything else. It didn’t make sense. He was keeping something from her. Another test.

  “They drove you here.”

  He flinched. “How’d you know?”

  Her lips curled proudly. “There’s no room for cells in the back of the Forge, which means that they would’ve had to have transported you here. Now, let’s see….” Which building had the best security? The Data Center? Yes. But the delicate infrastructure and scientists didn’t make sense for a Russian war criminal. No. It had to be the armory.

  “I know where they’re keeping you,” she whispered.

  “Where?” he seethed, his grip tightening again.

  “Train me,” she said. “Train me and let me come with you. And I’ll help you. That’s my deal.”

  She felt his grip growing tighter around her wrists. Her ultimatum had angered him, which meant, prisoner or not, he was used to getting his way. Finally, his hands softened, and they lifted to her wrists, transferring full control to her.

  “Very well,” he said. “I will teach you. And in return, you will give me the information we need to escape. But I must warn you. It will not be easy, and you will suffer. Are you sure this is what you want?”

  “It is.”

  “Very well,” he said. “But there is something you must know.” He rested his head on her shoulder and like a lover leaning in for a kiss, whispered into her ear, “If I decide you are lying to me, I will kill you.”

  20

  A Rich History

  The Hall of Remembrance was a tribute to the Eagles of past, warriors who’d proven themselves amidst the feats of their fellow brethren. It was a place of reverence, of beauty, a shrine dedicated to a rich history that only a few were ever lucky to see firsthand. But as Sibylla stood before its columned entrance, dwarfed by its looming beauty, all she could do was wish she was somewhere else.

  “We’re going to be late,” Sibylla said.

  “It’ll just be a minute,” Anais promised. “There’s something I need to check out.”

  “What?”

  Before Anais could answer, Sibylla heard the sound of boots and saw Yumiko and Tayshaun walking up the steps behind her.

  “And where do you think you two are going?” Yumiko asked with crossed arms.

  “We were sightseeing,” Anais answered.

  The reply had come quickly, and Sibylla couldn’t help but notice the hint of clumsiness to her voice. She was worried, which meant that she was hiding something.

  “Sightseeing?” Yumiko repeated, shooting Sibylla a suspicious glare. “Really?”

  “Sure,” Sibylla said. If anything, Sibylla could examine more of the grounds firsthand, add it to the mental maps she’d been preparing since the first day. Seeing the inside of the Hall might actually be helpful. “I was bored and wanted to come and check it out. So, Anais was kind enough to show me.”

  “Huh,” Yumiko said as she pondered her answer. “Well, as cool as that is we have Roll Call in fifteen minutes, so we should be getting back.”

  “It’ll only take five,” Anais promised.

  “We don’t have five,” Yumiko said.

  “Sure, we do.” Tayshaun planted a hand on Yumiko’s shoulder as he strode toward Anais. “I’ve been wanting to check out this place for a while. Might as well take the chance while we got it, right?”

  Anais brightened under the Marine’s gaze, and she quickly fell into step alongside him as he accompanied her through the entrance. “A man after my own heart.”

  Sibylla shared a glance with Yumiko, and the two of them rolled their eyes.

  “Come on,” Sibylla said. “Let’s get this over with.”

  The Hall was a large rotunda with white marble floors, accentuated by a colorful pattern of granite tiles. Along the sides were thick stone columns, while overhead, the afternoon light was spilling through the center of the ceiling, illuminating the classical room with a heavenly glow that gave off a golden sheen to the surrounding masterpieces.

  Sibylla wandered in amazement. She saw guns a
nd knives, pieces of artillery and tattered uniforms—all protected under the delicate care of glass cases.

  Throughout the room, arranged in a circular pattern, the stone busts of past Eagles stared at her through blank eyes, watching her every movement. They were studying her, she felt, judging her as if they could see the truth in her heart, and knew that she didn’t belong there. She looked away.

  “Man, I could live here,” Yumiko marveled, her eyes wide as she took in the splendor. At one point she’d stopped in the center of the room, lifting her gaze to the painted dome ceiling above, blinking in amazement.

  “You’re going to hurt your neck if you keep staring like that,” Sibylla joked.

  “It’ll be worth it,” Yumiko said.

  Across the room, standing noticeably close to one another, Anais and Tayshaun were examining the Dallas Memorial. They’d been there a while now, unmoving as Anais closely examined the black and white photos streaming across the monitor with unblinking eyes. What was she looking for?

  It was strange, Sibylla thought with a frown, confused as to how the destruction of an entire city could spark such gruesome fascination.

  According to government reports, the city’s destruction had been the result of a Muslim terrorist attack, a pair of brothers who’d smuggled in a miniature nuclear device. But no one could really be for sure, considering that no one was allowed to even get close to the site, due to the supposed high levels of radiation.

  “Hey,” Yumiko called out, waving for Sibylla to follow.

  Sibylla dragged her feet as she followed her toward the other side of the rotunda. There wasn’t anything about the place that could help her with the escape. Besides, everything she saw just made her feel uncomfortable and alienated. Sighing, she came to a halt as she was hit by the sight of something she’d not been expecting.

  Sitting atop a stone pillar was a gold plaque with beautiful engraving written across the front of it. Sibylla traced the deep grooves of the lettering with a finger, feeling a chill as she read the title quietly to herself. “Blood Oath.”

  Sibylla knew the story well. Everyone did. Three Eagles. A hundred and twenty soldiers. That was all that had stood between the residents of Kharkiv, the second largest city in the Ukraine, and the Russian army that waited at its doorstep.