The Bearer's Burden

by Chad Queen

  Jace spoke first. “Yes, of course, it is our pleasure as well, Miss…?”

  “Oh! I forget myself. I am Faye Yooley. And our humble outpost here is the Principality of Carl.”

  “Carl?” Jace asked.

  “Yes! The head of the Foundation. Come, he will be very excited to see you have made it safely. We weren’t sure you were all going to make it.” She leaned in a bit closer and lowered her voice, even though no one else was around. “Something big is happening. Carl won’t talk about it much, but I think that’s mostly because we don’t know anything yet. Everyone’s a bit on edge.”

  As they walked, Cade noticed the street wasn’t really a street at all. It was made of a dull, solid gray metal.

  Noticing his gaze, Faye spoke. “I see you’ve already discovered one of our secrets here on Vanter Island: it’s not an island at all.”

  Jace kneeled and ran his hand along the corrugated metal. “What exactly is it?”

  “The best we can tell it was built by the Ancients. It’s not really like any of the other structures we have seen, but we believe it is likely a Gen 3 in terms of technology.”

  Jace rubbed his chin. “But what’s its purpose? Surely it is more than a floating platform.”

  Faye nodded. “We’ve sent divers to investigate, and we discovered there are large intake ports all around the structure. From what we can tell, it’s a self-sustaining filtration system for the lake. The water in this lake is exceptionally pure; that’s the reason it was given the name Bluewash. Our theory is that it converts what it filters into a power source. And even though the movements of the island seem random, it is quite predictable, because it follows the same path every 1,024 days.”

  Jace, who looked lost in thought, nodded, still staring at the metal. “I wonder why they felt the need to filter this particular lake.”

  Faye shrugged. “Another mystery of the Ancients, unfortunately. It would have been nice for them to leave an instruction booklet or something. Let’s keep moving, if you don’t mind. Carl will be very excited to see all of you.”

  Faye pointed out details of the island to the group with the ebullient enthusiasm of a camp counselor. “To the right we have the Commons, where we get together and have meetings. To the left we have our intelligence headquarters, where the majority of our strategic planning takes place, and off in the corner there, we have our very own restaurant! I probably don’t have to tell you, but the grilled fish there is simply to die for!”

  They came upon the largest building of them all, which reminded Cade of the gigantic hangars built near docks to construct large ships. Protruding from its center, a tall cylindrical lighthouse stood watch. Faye stopped and turned to face them. “And here is the pride and joy of our humble operation: Phantom Works.” She swung the large door open and ushered them inside.

  It looked even bigger than it had from the outside. As far as the eye could see were tables with various artifacts, creations of steel and wood, workstations arrayed with mechanical tools the likes of which Cade had never seen. Men and women in long coats were bustling about, hard at work or locked in heated debate.

  A solid-looking man, dressed military-style, with a massive barrel chest and arms that could have been hewn from the trunks of trees, noticed them and beamed as they filed into the room. He strode over to greet them.

  Cade’s jaw fell open. Before him stood Carlon “The Fist” Stront, Commander General of the Unified Armies of Chalice, heralded as the strategist who had brought about the end of the Wraith War.

  He fell in and saluted. Soldier habits die hard. “General Stront. You…”

  “No, no, none of that, I am not a general anymore…I’m a prince!” The man threw his head back and roared with laughter. “And please, call me Carl.”

  The three of them looked at each other, uncertain.

  He swept a large arm out toward the hangar. “Welcome, friends, to the resistance!”

  15

  Foundation

  With over one hundred confirmed Skex kills to his credit, General Stront is an anomaly of military leadership. His divergent strategies in dealing with the Wraiths culminated in the battle on Gigan’s Hill, which was the inciting incident that led to the Accord.

  —From First Contact to First Combat: The One-Month War

  “Thanks to a loophole in our wonderfully bureaucratic government, any location that is not considered stationary,” he said, stomping his foot on the ground, “…such as Vanter, is not technically considered part of the country. After we signed the Accord, I requested my boon from our dear King Liam, and that was for permission to operate Vanter as a wholly independent principality within Chalice. It buys us political…discretions…we would not have otherwise. We were able to get our operations here up and running quickly, and the location does wonders to keep out unwanted visitors.”

  A handful of people on a floating island in the middle of nowhere didn’t sound like much of a resistance. As if on cue, Carlon continued, “Now, I know it doesn’t look like much. I imagine you all were conjuring up grandiose imagery of barrack upon barrack of multi-Pact Bearers encoding with the lost alloys, armed to the teeth with fully loaded casters in each hand.” He snorted, his powerful chest threatening to tear the buttons off his shirt. Carlon’s uniform happened to be the same type of dark royal blue that high-ranking officers wore in the field. “Truth is it wouldn’t make a difference, not how the Wraiths are fighting. Vanter? This is just one cell of many. We have agent cells in every nook and cranny of Chalice, gathering intelligence and capable of running completely autonomously. If our cell falls, the Foundation survives.”

  He motioned for them to follow and led them down the main drag of the long hangar. The man had a stocky frame but walked more quickly than his bulk would have suggested. He moved with crisp efficiency and purpose, as if he would not tolerate any motion to be wasted. They had to walk fast to keep up with him.

  “You see that?” Carlon said, pointing to what looked like a row of guns welded together. “That right there is an anti-siege gun developed by my team here. Skex always swarm in groups, making them easy to take down if you can get the ammo out fast enough. These guns here each have a rotation barrel, capable of delivering three rounds per second once it gets spun up. We’ve linked them together so we can man the weapon with only one gunner and one loader to feed the belt through. Sure to come in handy once they start sending those damned overgrown bugs at us.”

  They continued walking. One of the scientists was attacking a man wearing curious dark gray armor. “Ah! And that right there is the new field armor we’ve been testing. Strong and nearly impervious to Skex claws. We actually got the inspiration from the Skex exoskeletons.” He scowled and grunted. “Can’t stop bullets…yet. Now this here…this is really something,” he said, picking up a small cylinder and tossing it to Jace. “This is a new type of grenade we’ve been working on.” Jace snapped up, startled, and fumbled the cylinder before he caught it and held it to his chest, eyes frantic. The man bellowed with laughter. “Don’t worry, it won’t do much to us, though it makes a right mess. It’s got a goo in it that kills the damned symbiotic moss that grows on Skex. No moss—no energy.”

  Faye, who had been following close behind, opened a door at the end of the hangar and gestured for them to enter. The room was austere, except for a host of military medals and plaques hanging from the walls.

  Carlon sat down in the large command chair behind the solid wood desk at the back of the room and motioned for them to sit down on the plush leather chairs in front of them. The seating seemed uncharacteristic of a remote military installation, considering it must have been transported at great expense. They sat down, eager for answers.

  “I was at the helm of the Wraith War from day one. Every operation, every mission was approved by me. Hells, I even fought in some of the engagements myself, as much as that pissed off the king. If it wasn’t for Cade here, I probably would have kept doing it until I got killed myself. But
you know what I learned at the end of it all? The Wraiths cannot be beaten. They are too advanced, too strong, and they are a hell of a lot smarter than we are.”

  Carlon leaned back, laced his fingers together, and rested his hands on his stomach. “Sounds a bit defeatist, doesn’t it? But that’s truth for you. You can put a dress on it, call it pretty and take it to dinner, but that won’t change what it is, no matter how bad you want it to. Now here’s the part that’s really going to get your butts on edge: I think the Wraiths orchestrated the whole Accord from the very beginning. They wanted the war to end. Not because they were afraid of us, and definitely not because they thought we might have stood a chance of defeating them, but because they wanted us to think they were afraid of us.”

  This was a radical way of thinking, and not one Cade had considered.

  Jace spoke first. “What proof do you have?”

  “None, save for common sense. Should I remind everyone that our Wraith friends came to us in a vessel that flew in from another planet? I can’t fathom the technology required to do such a thing. If they can navigate the stars, chances are their combat capability is far greater than they let on. It is simple hubris that drives the belief we are a match for them.”

  Cade cut in. “But we had the Bearer Corps. Those are the same abilities that allowed the Ancients to defeat the Wraiths in the first war.”

  Carlon belted out a laugh. “The same Ancients that could mine Rynthium? And build ships that navigated the depths of the ocean? The same ones that built the casters? The Ancients who had the Traveler in their corner to help them?”

  Cade did not offer a reply.

  Carlon leaned forward in his chair. “The Wraiths came here for something, right? Maybe they came for retribution after they got beat down in the first Wraith War with the Ancients, or maybe they came for the Rynthium. After they signed the Accord, the war effectively ended. And our intelligence shows they aren’t mining any Rynthium. So why are they still here? Likely they are here for whatever they came for back when they were here fighting the Ancients. And we’re just whiny pawns to be moved about a board of their own devising. They waged their mock war until they learned how they could get what they needed, and ended it.”

  “And what do they need?” asked Jace.

  Carlon did not skip a beat. “People. Dead ones. But you already knew that. We’ve all known this, but everyone is too damn afraid to confront the Wraiths again, so we let them have their way. We have no idea what they are doing with the people they take, but we know that all roads lead to the Thread. It’s the one place we cannot get near; it’s too well-guarded.”

  Jace nodded. “That is what we’ve heard as well. But as you said, the place is impenetrable. We can’t hope to learn more. Especially if the Wraiths are as powerful as you say.”

  Carlon raised his index finger. “And that is precisely why I have asked you all to come here. I believe we can fight the Wraiths.”

  Cade spoke, confused. “I thought you just said that we could not hope to beat them?”

  “We know their movements have increased lately. Skex have been spotted in both Rynth and Toltaire. Something is about to happen, and they are distracted. This is the opening we’ve been waiting for.”

  Cade frowned. “You’re not suggesting…”

  “I am,” Carlon replied.

  Horrible images of the assault on Gigan’s Hill flashed in Cade’s mind. He could feel his muscles tense at the memories that still felt fresh. “You can’t be serious. You remember what happened last time, right?”

  Carlon’s expression darkened. “I don’t need any reminders. The difference this time is we have the underground railway that runs concurrently with the Pathways to the Thread.”

  “You’re going to sneak in through an underground train?” Ashlyn asked.

  “In a sense, yes. There’s a collection of trains under Wraith control that only move between Rynth and the Thread. They are the only trains permitted near the Thread.”

  “Well, there is the No Man,” Jace corrected. The No Man was an anomaly of the Pathway rail network. It never stopped moving, and as such, no one could board it.

  Carlon ignored Jace and continued, “We were able to retrieve a schedule from an Acolyte we rescued. We believe we can commandeer one of these trains.”

  “But how can we mount an entire assault with only one train of soldiers?” Ashlyn asked.

  “Simple,” Carlon said, looking at Ashlyn. “We don’t put soldiers on the train. We put a bomb on it.”

  Cade sat back in the chair. “What kind of payload could hope to devastate a structure of the Ancients?”

  Carlon smiled. “There is an agent in Toltaire who has not only built an explosive more powerful than anything we’ve ever used before but has also rigged the explosive with the ability to fire off caster shells, like a frag grenade.”

  “You’re trying to take out the structure and the Wraiths in one go,” Cade said.

  “Oh no, you’re not working with…” said Jace, burying his face in his palm.

  “Yes, we are working with Agent Beatrix.”

  Cade stifled a laugh.

  Ashlyn made a face. “I feel like I’m missing something.”

  “It’s nothing,” Jace said, dismissing the question. “What about the Nexus in Rynth? There has to be something there that can help us, I’m sure of it.”

  Carlon shook his head. “I’m aware of your line of research, Exile. But even if that were true, we are no closer to gaining access to the Nexus in Rynth. And if we get inside and there was something there, how long would it take for us to learn how to use it? We don’t have the time.”

  Carlon turned to Ashlyn. “This leads me to why we need your help, Ashlyn.” He met her gaze. “With Rolan gone…we need your Order’s help. You can get us access to an underground railbus that can transport the weapon to Rynth from Toltaire.

  Ashlyn nodded, expression now solemn at the mention of Rolan. “What about my father? He will help, I’m sure of it. Have you approached him?”

  “The king? Princess, our intelligence tells us that he is helping the Wraiths. His meetings with them have increased recently, and with cities on the interior disappearing, well, it’s obvious he’s turning a blind eye. We can’t risk including him in our plans.”

  Ashlyn sighed, dejected. “I guess I already knew.”

  Carlon shrugged. “What else can he do? If he opposed them, the Accord would crumble, and we would lose any confrontation we had with them. Your father is backed into a corner.” He shook his head. “But we have to assume he cannot be trusted. That is why we worked through Rolan. I know this is hard for you, Princess. But we are so close, and we need your help.”

  She lifted her head and met Carlon’s eyes, face stern. “Tell me what we need to do.”

  16

  Too Little to Lose

  Skex are a cross between a man and a beetle, best we can tell. While their exoskeletons give them a natural armor against most attacks, they are mortal. They can be easily dispatched with traditional firearms using approved LRSX ammunition. If you deplete your ammunition store, they can be attacked with the standard-issue weighted sword. Take care to aim for the joints indicated in Figure 2.1.

  —From Bearer Corps Combat Tactics

  Cade wound his way up the steel spiral staircase of the giant lighthouse, lost in thought. Carlon had pulled him aside after the briefing and left Jace and Ashlyn with Faye.

  “We don’t ever turn the primary light on, not anymore. The harder we are to find, the better,” Carlon chuckled. “Here we are.”

  They entered a large, circular room with immense curved glass panels all around the perimeter. “Welcome to the Watchtower.”

  Cade was underwhelmed. The ever-present fog of the Bluewash allowed only a superficial view of the surroundings. Carlon, who was watching his reaction, roared with laughter. “Never gets old! I love doing that to newcomers.” He gestured to one of the men sitting at a station near the door. The
man nodded and flipped the large switch next to him.

  Though no light emerged from the tower, the fog seemed to disappear, allowing them to see far and wide. Everything looked as if they were viewing through green-glasses. Details Cade would only expect to see in daylight were easily visible.

  “That’s more like it, eh?” The man slapped his thick paw on Cade’s back.

  “How?” was all Cade could manage.

  “Good question! With the Ancients and their technology, there are always more questions than answers. I wish I knew. And I’ve made it my business to. But for now, I’m focused on the questions I can answer.” He motioned for Cade to sit on one of the many chairs that punctuated the long table in the center of the room.

  Carlon threw a large file filled with loose papers onto the table in front of Cade.

  “What’s this?”

  “An answer.”

  Cade opened the file and noticed his name on the first page. He flipped through the reports. “You’ve been watching me?”

  Carlon nodded. “For quite some time now. There was a point when we thought to recruit you into our resistance.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  Carlon smiled. “Now you’re asking questions you already know the answer to.”

  “With all due respect, sir—Carl. I don’t have time for this. I have to prepare for the mission.”

  Carlon shook his head. “You’re not going.”

  “What? Why?”

  Carlon picked up the file and tossed a report onto the table. “The warehouse explosion in Solak. The blast set nearly the entire block on fire.” He pulled the next file. “The broken dam in Hyridge. They had to evacuate the valley.” Cade shifted in his seat. “And let’s not forget the incident in Kayvant. It goes on.”

  Carlon put the file down, linked his arms behind his back, and walked to the nearby window. “We thought a man, a Bearer no less, with nothing to lose, could be a powerful ally.” Cade remained silent. “Until we realized how dangerous a man with nothing to lose really was.”