by J. L. Lyon
“But before I can do any of that, I need you to trust me, Crenshaw. We cannot linger here. There are greater threats in the Wilderness than the Spectorium. Please.”
Everything about this rubbed Crenshaw the wrong way. To go willingly into a World System fortress, carried by Great Army soldiers? That was just asking for death. But then again, if someone was pulling Grace’s strings, and they had wanted Silent Thunder dead, they could have done it several times already. And there was that one fact that swayed him above all others.
He did trust her. Like he imagined he would trust his own daughter.
The blade of Renovatio went dark, and he returned it to his side. Then he, too, stepped forward to embrace her. A wave of emotion nearly overcame him, and tears formed in his eyes, “I am glad to see you, Grace. I missed you.”
She returned his embrace and patted him affectionately on the back, “I missed you, too.”
34
SILENCE REIGNED IN THE Stone Hall as Grace finished bringing Crenshaw and Davian up to speed on everything that had transpired since the attack on the camp. Both men wore the very same look of consternation, though Davian also spent a significant amount of time trying not to stare at Liz, who leaned against the wall a couple of yards from them.
She had wanted it to only be her most trusted friends, and it seemed right to include Liz, but in retrospect she wondered if that had been the best choice. Liz appeared aloof the majority of the time, as if uncomfortable being there. It brought the various worlds Grace was now a part of into sharp focus, and she wondered if she was foolish to have believed the two could be reconciled. But if she couldn't bring Liz into the fold with Davian and Crenshaw, how could she even attempt what she had to do next?
“I suppose we should begin by addressing the most important part of your story,” Crenshaw said. He turned toward Liz, and Grace felt a lump rise in her throat, fearing the worst. Liz had been their enemy for the majority of her life, and Crenshaw had not experienced her actions the Wilderness, actions that redeemed Liz in her eyes.
Liz watched warily as Crenshaw closed the distance between them. She might try to pretend that none of this mattered to her, but Grace knew better. More than anything else in the world, Liz wanted a place to belong, to feel safe in who she truly was. She believed she would only find that in the family she had never met, but Grace hoped to show her otherwise.
Crenshaw held out his hand, “It is good to finally meet you, Elizabeth Aurora. We are connected in many ways, you and I, for two people who have never crossed paths.”
Liz looked down at Crenshaw’s hand suspiciously, then over at Grace, who merely shrugged. Not really having any other choice, Liz reached out and took the general's hand, “Nice to meet y—” Her eyes went wide as he pulled her forward into a full hug, and Grace couldn't help but laugh. Liz's body was stiff and uncertain as she accepted Crenshaw's invasion of her space, and she breathed out a sigh of relief when he finally released her.
“Thank you,” Crenshaw said sincerely, “for all you've done. There is nothing we can do to repay you for returning her to us.”
“She saved me just as much as I saved her,” Liz said sheepishly. “You owe me nothing.”
“When Davian told me that he had brought you into the camp and all signs pointed to the two of you leaving together, I feared the worst—that you planned to sell her back to the World System, or to Sullivan. But I was wrong. Just the fact that you are here, in this room with the three of us, is a testament to how much Grace trusts you, and that speaks volumes for me.”
Grace turned her attention to Davian, “You were the one who brought her into the camp?”
Davian nodded, “I didn’t know who she was at first. We found her nearly dead on our way back from leading the Spectorium off-course. Attacked by a wild animal it looked like. Catastrophic blood loss, hypothermia maybe. It didn’t look good, but I couldn’t just leave her there. We brought her back and the doctor was able to stabilize her, but,” he turned his attention back to Liz, “you were still in pretty bad shape. I’m shocked you were even able to stand, much less fight.”
“I thought I had sat down in that ruin to die,” Liz said, watching Davian now with greater interest. “Thank you, for saving my life.”
Davian reddened, and an awkward silence followed during which Grace felt a pit in her stomach. Davian had been the one who had brought Liz into the camp, which might explain why he had been acting so strangely around her. Had he been thinking of her—the beautiful woman he had saved in the Wilderness—more often than he thought of Grace?
She recognized that look. It was the very same one Davian had been giving her for years. Now it belonged to another.
A part of her wanted to be jealous, but she couldn't fault Davian for wanting to move on. She had made him wait too long. And, truth be told, she no longer believed love was in the cards for her. She had been willing to explore something with Davian, but seeing his attentions diverted, she was surprised to learn that all she really felt was relief.
He deserved happiness of the kind she could never provide.
“I do trust Liz, and that is the main reason she is here,” Grace said. “But there is another reason. We are in a precarious situation here, and Liz has more knowledge and experience concerning the World System than we can learn in the short time we have. Liz, we need you to help us navigate this world. I need you.”
Liz stood a little straighter, eyes beaming with gratefulness, and opened her mouth to speak. Davian, however, cut across her, “I take that to mean your first order of business will not be to dismantle the System’s infrastructure in the city.”
“No,” her gaze shifted between the three of them. “It will not. In fact I have no intentions of dismantling Corridor Prime’s infrastructure in my capacity as magistrate.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“You understand what this will mean, Grace,” Crenshaw exerted his calmer tone over Davian’s incredulity. “The men will not take this well. You have taken a city without firing a shot, and if we can withstand the forces of this General Van Dorn you will control the entire Corridor. They will expect you to end the World System’s tyranny and raise the United States flag over the Stone Hall.”
“And what of the people of this city, and what they want?” Grace asked. “Would it not just be another form of tyranny to force them to accept a government they did not choose for themselves?”
“They didn’t choose the World System!” Davian said.
“No,” Grace conceded. “Not in the beginning. But there are those who would fight now to preserve what they have, and not only the soldiers and the rulers.” She turned to Crenshaw. “You once told me that the people would never rise up against the World System because it works for them. That the central computer gets it right for all but about fifteen percent of the population.”
Crenshaw nodded, “I did.”
“And the economy of this city has been dependent on Systemics for over sixteen years now. What will happen if I suddenly take that away?”
“The cities of the Imperial Conglomerate were forcibly disconnected from Systemics,” Liz said. “Their stability has been slipping ever since. People are going hungry again. Soon, they will be starving under the burden of Emperor Sullivan’s war.”
“And how long do you suppose I will remain in power if I dismantle the process that put me there? Van Dorn is not the only general with reservations, he is just the only one prepared to do something about it because of what he has to gain. If the generals waiting in Corridor North and South feel that their positions are in jeopardy, they will march to Van Dorn’s aid. I need to keep the allegiances I have and prevent Van Dorn from gaining any more.”
“What about Silent Thunder’s allegiance?” Davian asked quietly. “How long can your new army withstand Grand Admiral Blaine and his Spectorium without Spectral-adepts at their core?”
“Do you think those men will so quickly abandon me, after all we have been through?�
� Grace asked, cold and harsh. “Will you, Davian?”
Davian’s expression softened to a childish smolder, “Of course not.”
“They will have to trust me, as you will have to trust me,” Grace went on. “There will be reforms to give those who are disenfranchised by the World System a chance to change their circumstances. I don’t know exactly what, or how, but between Liz and Jeremiah Bruce, we should be able to find a way. Then, yes, we will have a vote, and the citizens of the Corridor will decide if they want to remain in the System’s model, or return to their Old World democratic republic. Should they choose the latter, we will begin the process of restoring the old infrastructures. But if they do not, Silent Thunder will have to accept the will of the people. That is what we are fighting for. Not a particular form of government.”
“You’re right, of course,” Crenshaw said. “But Davian is right as well. The men won’t see it that way. For years restoring the rights of the people has been synonymous with restoring the old ways. They will start to wonder if you have been corrupted by this new position…perhaps not at first, but eventually it is inevitable.”
“We will cross that bridge when we come to it,” Grace replied, already dreading the day. “But none of that will matter if we can’t hold the city. Everything hinges on the defeat of Van Dorn’s army.”
“The men will not like fighting alongside Great Army soldiers,” Davian said. “Even if it is to kill other Great Army soldiers. These are the same soldiers that have been hunting us down, killing our people in the Wilderness, and making our lives hell, Grace. And you want us to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with them?”
“For the greater good, yes, I do.”
“And what about the Great Army?” Crenshaw turned to Liz. “How will they react to Undocumented in their ranks?”
“The soldiers will do as they are told,” Liz replied. “It is the generals who are the concern. If the tide of battle turns, they may seek to save their own skins and throw their support to Van Dorn. Turning on Silent Thunder in the course of the fight would be the best way to signal the defection to Van Dorn.”
“Both of the generals in the city seem to be in Bruce's inner circle,” Grace said. “I doubt they would betray us.”
“It is a risk to assume we can even trust Bruce to remain loyal at this point,” Liz went on. “He opposed Van Dorn when it appeared he might have something to gain from it, as he remained acting magistrate so long as the Code Zero was in effect. He may only be paying lip service to these System fanatics now because of the hard line he took. But if it serves his interests to turn, he will, Grace. And he may take both generals with him.”
Grace paused, the air of the Stone Hall seeming to press in upon her. If she joined her forces, she risked death. If she didn't, death. If she used her power to dismantle the System in the city she risked betrayal from her new allies. If she didn't, betrayal by her old ones. Death and betrayal on every side, and still that nagging sense that she didn't have a clue what she was doing, that she had ventured so far from her core strengths that at any moment she would be proven a fool and an imposter.
She had never wanted to be a Silent Thunder commander, but the situation had demanded it. She had never wanted to rule a city, though now she saw how naive that had been. She had always imagined handing over power to someone older and wiser after her conquest. Where she had planned to find that person, she no longer knew. For in military conquests, the conqueror rules. She had not conquered Corridor Prime with an army, but she would need that army to seize all the rest. Every city would one day be hers, and she would give them all the gift she had been denied all her life: freedom.
Grace would rule, and she would conquer, but not because it was what she wanted. It was because that was what the situation demanded.
Only one option stood out to her as capable of delaying the web of death and betrayal that spun all around her, and she could see the glint of it in Liz's imploring eyes.
“I would like to speak with General Crenshaw alone, please,” Grace said.
Liz raised her eyebrows, but said nothing as she pushed away from the wall and made for the door. Davian looked as if he might object, but seeing Liz's retreating form thought better of it, and followed her out. Grace couldn't help but smile at his obvious intentions despite the lingering pang of jealousy and regret. His path would diverge from hers now, and she would have to learn to rejoice for him. She just hoped Liz did not break his heart. She would not be an easy pursuit.
The Stone Hall's doors shut loudly, leaving Grace and Crenshaw alone in the hollow expanse. He watched her for a moment in silence, as if still reconciling her presence with reality. Perhaps he had feared her dead and given up hope of ever seeing her again. It brought to mind the face of her father and the way he had looked at her in those weeks after her return from captivity.
“You remind me of him sometimes,” she said. “Dad, I mean.”
“I was just thinking the same about you,” Crenshaw replied. “He always had that tendency to throw himself at any given situation, to do whatever was necessary for the greater good. You lack his impulsiveness, however. You can thank your mother for that.”
She laughed lightly, “One day I will.” A familiar heaviness settled on her chest, and her tone became somber, “Do you think they can see me, from where they are?”
“I do,” Crenshaw nodded. “Love is what tethers us to those who have moved on to the next life, and if I know anything at all about Jacob, he would not let anything stand in the way of watching over you, in whatever way he can. Your mother, too. They would both be proud of you, Grace. I have no doubt about that.”
“I hope you are right,” she said. “I miss him, so very much. They were both taken from me too early, my mother before I even got to know her, and my father just when I needed him more than ever. So many people taken by this war...you have to wonder when it will end.”
“When the last tyrant falls.”
“There will always be more tyrants waiting in the wings,” she said. “There are tyrants in every form of government, fueled by the basest instincts of corruption and greed. So a smart man once said to me.”
“I should be more careful with my words, now that I know you're listening,” he smiled. “Yes. Even if we are victorious against Napoleon Alexander, there will always be another war. We may achieve peace in our lifetime, but it will shatter one day. It is inevitable.”
“Then we must be pragmatic and attempt to mitigate loss where we can. I am tired of all the death and destruction. I don't want any more fathers and brothers and husbands to die. Daughters now, too. I hear that there are two girls in the ranks now training with the Gladius.”
“Yes, inspired by you of course,” Crenshaw said. “Though one lost her father as the Spectorium harried us west.”
The heaviness in Grace's chest clenched around her heart. She knew the girl's pain all too well. “How old is she?”
“Sixteen, I believe.”
“Once this is over, I will be the one to complete her training,” Grace said. “Can you see to it?”
“Of course.”
“This endless cycle of suffering...I may not have the power to stop it. But perhaps I can slow it down. I need the Great Army to do that, and I can't destroy the only thread that binds the generals and rulers to me. You understand that, don't you?”
“Yes,” Crenshaw said. “Your choice is wise, Grace, but that doesn't mean it will be easy.”
“You're right. What I need is to consolidate my power over the Corridor so we can begin to build a rival state to The Alexandrian System and the Imperial Conglomerate. Only Van Dorn stands in my way.”
“And the soldiers at his back.”
“No, they will follow whoever leads them. It is only Van Dorn.” She paused to take a deep breath. “My generals recommend sending an assassin to eliminate him. Liz believes the same, and even volunteered to do it herself.”
Crenshaw pursed his lips into a troubled line, “She seems
quite eager to gain your approval and trust.”
Grace cocked an eyebrow, “And you were so accommodating. But of course you don't really trust her...I thought you warmed to her a little too quickly. I would trust Liz with my life, Crenshaw, which she delivered to me several times while we were out there.”
“I don't doubt it,” Crenshaw said. “And for your sake I hope you're right, but I will be watching her discreetly. Often people become what they know you expect them to be, so it is best if she continues to believe she has been accepted into the fold.”
“Clever,” Grace said dryly. “But I'm not wrong about her.”
Crenshaw tilted his head in acquiescence, though she could see he was still not convinced. “In any case,” he went on. “Assassination seems like a World System tactic.”
“Wasn't that the entire premise of the assault on Alexandria?”
“And it failed,” Crenshaw shrugged. “Yet still it was a tactic planned by the Resistance, not by you. Don't get me wrong, Grace, the suggestion may very well work, and if you choose to go that route I will stand behind you. But, all this talk of the System's central computer choosing you...doesn't it make you wonder why? That perhaps it sees a pattern in the data collected on your life that suggests you can alter the course of the System for the better?
“It seems to me that instead of conforming to the ways of the World System, you might try conforming the World System to you. Find a better way.”
Grace sighed, and as she exhaled some of that weight on her chest subsided. She smiled, “I have missed you, General. Thank you.”
“I will help you through this in whatever way I can.”
“I know you will,” she said. “And I also know you have business in Corridor Prime. You have said nothing of the fragment since your arrival. Is there some reason?”
“The fragment can wait,” he said. “If what you said about Aiken is true, the weapon may be lost to us forever, and perhaps that is just as well. I have always been a little troubled by what I might find at the end of that journey. Part of me wishes now that I had never involved any of you in the search.”
